Wayward On My Own

Quiet dilemma
The trip home seemed fairly short this night. Zaran knew the road well enough to take it in something of a mental autopilot, and that was fine. The local wildlife in the fields outside the wood were small enough that it was almost impossible to harm one with the vehicle she rode. Turmoil rought her enough as it was without adding the death of an innocent veilan rat to her list of things to mull over.

Kala was sitting on the front door step with an old friend of hers when Zaran arrived, bringing a small smile to her face once again. She waved at them, but neither seemed to notice. Her smile disappeared. They'd always wave back... unless the news was troubling. Bema came by more and more often these days since her husband passed on, but Kala was always glad to have her. Zaran guiltily trudged past and settled the speeder inside the garage. She moved along the sidewalk to a sidedoor, avoiding the two in their privacy.

Inside, she was greeted with a wonderful smell, one that made her mouth water and her stomach rumble. She winced slightly. It hadn't occurred to her just how hungry she was until that point. Following the smells, Zaran entered the kitchen to see Borison there, working over a pot of something. He turned his aged face to her, grinning his usual silly grin at her sight.

"Hey, girl!" he said and almost immediately gaped, horrified, and pointed with a mixing spoon to the tear in her shirt. "Well what's that there? Did you fall off the speeder again?"

Zaran looked down; her face tinted the slightest hint of pink. Apparently she'd forgotten about her injury too. She forced a humorous laugh. "Very funny... I tripped over a root while I was looking around the site again." It wasn't a lie, but she didn't want to immediately bring up the stranger she'd met. It wasn't good to startle Borison while he was cooking.

"You'd best get that cleaned before you regret it." The elderly man eyed her for a moment as though he didn't quite believe it, but then shrugged and went back to his cooking. "So, was your day productive? Did you find anything new?"

Zaran stepped over to the sink to wash her injury. "I did, actually. A weapon of sorts. You might want to have a look at it." His eyes were on her from the mention of the word "weapon" and she knew it. He'd always been a weapons fanatic. Blasters, shielding, blades, anything most anyone could invent. Just name it, Borison probably knew about it.

"Oh did you?"

Odd. He's normally so happy to hear about things like this.

Zaran dried her hands on a towel and removed the lightsaber from her pouch. She held it out to her caretaker, but he seemed all at once almost reluctant to take it. His shoulders slumped defeatedly and he suddenly looked much older as he laid eyes on the hilt, and her own eyes tensed at the sight. "Is something wrong? I thought you'd be crazy about this thing."

He stared at the saber for a moment or two before huffing a sigh and setting the spoon aside. "Well, that explains everything."

One blink, then another. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed again and motioned for her to sit at the table as he waddled over to take up a chair of his own. He took the lightsaber from her and turned it this way and that, flipping it upside down and right side up, examining it from tip to tip. All the while, Zaran waited quietly, concerned and curious. He knew something and he was not telling her.

Finally, he laid the weapon on the table in front of her and sat back in his seat with a groan. She simply watched him and waited.

"Zaran..." Borison began with a heavy sigh. "Girl, there's something I never bothered to tell you. You remember the day that Bema's husband died?"

She nodded, lowering her eyes to the side. "How could I forget? I am the one who knew it was going to happen."

"Don't feel bad about it." Borison's tone was filled with all his sympathy. She knew it would be. The old man would care for a bounty hunter if given the chance. "Things like that happen. Now I want to tell you why I brought it up. Some people see, feel things like that. There doesn't ever seem to be an explanation for it, they just do. And not many people have this ability either, only about a handful. Take me for example. I was one of the 'lucky' ones, shall we say."

Zaran's eyes widened as she regarded him in shock. "You have premonitions too?" She opened her mouth to say more, but thought against it. He seemed even more sad than before for some reason.

"Yes, I've got it too, but that's not what I meant to say. You met someone today, didn't you? A man, I believe."

If he had not just told her he had visions as well, she would've questioned him about it immediately. It was too accurate to be coincidental, and now what he had to tell her seemed all that much more important. She leaned forward in her seat a little, elbow pressing into the table as she did to listen.

Her silence was enough to satisfy him, and Borison continued with another sigh. "Zaran... I'll just be blunt with you. Your finding this lightsaber was no random happening. It was yours in a time before you can remember. I've seen it in dreams. And yes, I know what you're thinking. Those dreams were of a Jedi Knight." He paused for a moment to let that sink in, and almost felt bad about telling her anything at all. He knew she had been told much today already. But she needed to hear this. Time was running out for her.

Zaran lowered her head, stood, and began pacing in a slow circle, hands at her temples. So the soldier she met earlier was right. Borison would never lie to her, this much she knew, and if he was confirming everything she had ever worried about, then she would believe it. No one had to tell her that it wouldn't be easy.

"I don't understand," she said finally, suddenly stopping in her tracks. Just outside the front door, she could hear Bema sob a few times and then quiet again, but for the moment, she didn't let it get to her. "I mean... I do understand... but why? Why did you wait until now to tell me you believed it?"

The man shrugged helplessly. "I didn't at first. Most times, I'm not wrong, but I'm not infallible."

"So are you a Jedi too? Were you one?"

"No, girl. I only knew one. He was my brother, Thadeus. They say having strength in the ways of the Force comes to you through blood, though there are some who can learn it through hard work and practice. I didn't want that kind of life though, so I took a different path. What you have is definitely no coincidental thing."

Drained from the day's events and the shock of the news, Zaran slumped in her chair, letting her head come to rest heavily against her palms, fighting herself to either deny it or not and finding no neutral ground in the between. It was all so sudden, so drastic that it was hard to not feel lost. She knew the outcome of this: her life would be changed forever, no matter whose side the gunner in the forest was truly on. And she had no choice but to go with him now.

The idea still had not sunk in with her, and she knew it would not for several days... perhaps even for a time longer after she was gone. But there was so much to do, and it didn't seem she had enough time for it all. No one ever did, but that was the way of it. You either rolled with the punches or you fell and didn't get back up.

Good thing I prefer not to lie on the ground.

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