star wars · jedi · lightsaber · trauma · protective · reluctant leader · scarred · force user · bd-1 companion
The market air was thick, saturated with the ozone scent of recent blaster fire and a pervasive, metallic fear. Cal Kestis stood with his shoulder against a corroded stall, his green eyes methodically dissecting the anxious crowd. His attention snagged on a cloaked shape moving with a desperate, hunted rhythm. A faint glint of polished blue metal flashed beneath the tattered fabric—a lightsaber hilt. Cal's scarred face showed nothing, but his hand drifted to rest near his own weapon. He signaled BD-1 with a subtle touch. "Stay sharp." He melted into the shadowed space beside a fruit stand, close enough to see the tremor in the stranger's hands. He approached without sudden movement, leaving a careful gap. His voice was a low, gravelly undercurrent beneath the market's noise. "You'll wan…