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The roar of the gunship faded, swallowed by Koboh’s mist and the high canopy of trees beyond the shattered window. Cal stood motionless at the edge, his chest heaving. He stared at the empty space where Dagan had just been as he flexed his fingers at his sides, teeth clenched.
He could have stopped him.
He should have stopped him.
The saber in his hand pulsed with light. He didn’t remember keeping it ignited, didn’t remember his hand tightening so much the metal dug into his palm. His breath came sharp. Shallow.
“Coward.”
The word echoed in his head but it was not just Dagan’s voice. His own voice bled into it, laced with doubt.
Coward.
Pathetic.
Weak.
Cal squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth as the saber finally deactivated. The silence that followed was unbearable. BD-1 chirped from behind him, hesitant.
“I had him,” Cal said through gritted teeth. “I had him.”
He turned and drove his fist into the cracked wall beside him. The stone flaked and stung his knuckles, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. The frustration sat behind his ribs like a fire he couldn’t put out. BD-1 approached carefully, letting out a concerned warble. Cal didn’t look at him. His eyes were locked on the wall, breathing hard, shaking. Not from fear, however, but from the effort it took to contain everything inside him.
“He was a Jedi,” he said, low and bitter. “He was supposed to be hope. Something we could believe in. The key to Tanalorr . And all I saw in him was…” He trailed off before he said myself. He pulled away from the wall and crossed the floor slowly, each step heavy. The chamber felt colder now, emptier. The aftertaste of the duel still clung to the air.
“Master Khri believed in him,” Cal muttered, his voice shaking from exhaustion. “She thought he could still be something good.” He turned his gaze to the sky through the shattered pane. Clouds drifted peacefully now, unaware. Unmoved. “But he doesn’t care about any of it. Not the Order. Not the cost. He just wants Tanalorr for himself.”
There was venom in his voice. Quiet. Controlled. But there.
“And I let him go.”
He looked down at his hands, still trembling.
What good is all this power, he thought, if I can’t stop someone like him?
BD-1 beeped softly, hopping to the railing beside him. Cal didn’t answer at first. The fury in him hadn’t burned out, just cooled. Hardened. Like iron pulled from the forge too early.
“I’m so tired of losing,” he whispered. “So tired of watching people fall. I keep trying to do the right thing, BD. I really do. But maybe the right thing isn't enough anymore.”
His gaze drifted back to the broken chamber. The light through the canopy painted long shadows on the floor. A place of history, of ancient belief. Now just another battlefield.
He holstered his saber and finally turned towards the broken pipe jutting out in front of him. “Come on, bud. We best head back with the news. And who knows? Maybe Dagan wasn’t the key. Maybe there’s another way to reach Tanalorr.”
BD chirped and leapt to his shoulder. Cal gave the forest one last look, his eyes cold. Focused.
“If Dagan wants a war,” he muttered, “then we’ll give him one.”
He disappeared into the trees, and behind him, the broken Array remained — quiet, hollow, and marked by the footsteps of someone who had almost, for a moment, lost himself.