December, 3987 ABY
Tatooine
The fire roared like a beast. I was shoved to the ground.
Heat licked my face. Sand choked my mouth.
"Don't look away, Lorenzo." The Inquisitor's grip tightened.
I wanted to scream. To run. But my feet sank into burning sand.
Behind me, my mother's voice cracked, "One day, you will have to make a choice."
"A choice?" My voice trembled, confused and afraid.
"Yes, Lorenzo," she whispered. "Between life and death.
I can't hold your hand forever. When that day comes… look to the sky. I will be watching."
"I know you will make us proud."
I was six, watching fire engulf them, not understanding a word.
Days later, the Manchins found me scavenging for food, lost and starving in the branded wastelands.
They took me in, made me one of their own.
We ran from system to system, smuggling, escort runs, scavenging warzones.
I'd traveled the galaxy: Coruscant, Hoth, Endor… but never Dathomir.
That place whispered my name across the stars.
Dathomir.
Eventually, I forgot the sound of my parents' voices, the warmth they gave, the way they spoke.
And then the visions began.
They came slowly at first, then faster, sharp as a blade pressed against my skull.
The same vision, relentless and cold.
Each time, my world twisted, changed.
I felt the sun's heat on my face, the sting of sand beneath my fingers.
But always, there was a figure ahead on Dathomir. Someone I'd never met. But knew.
During an escort mission near Dathomir's outer system, I finally told the crew about the visions.
Their faces went pale.
The air thickened, heavy, like a death sentence.
"Dathomir is dead," one muttered.
"No one goes there. No one lives there. What connection do you have with that place?"
I froze.
Couldn't speak.
Couldn't move.
Because deep down, I knew the answer.
And it terrified me.
"Look, son," my captain said, placing a hand on my shoulder, eyes warm but heavy with sorrow.
"If you truly want to go to Dathomir... then go."
"I'm no role model for a kid like you," he said with a half-smile.
"But if you need help... remember us. In here."
He tapped his chest.
"In your heart."
He led me to the escape pod.
"Ever used one of these before?" His voice held concern.
I shrugged. "Maybe once or twice," I said, trying to mask the fear.
He gave me a half-amused, half-worried look.
"Alright then. Good luck, son."
The pod door sealed.
I was flung into space.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Just me and the stars.
The Manchins drifted away, their ship vanishing into hyperspace.
Alone.
Then I saw it.
Dathomir.
The red, cracked surface bled against the viewport, revealing a world dark, alive, and waiting.
The pod tore through the blood-red sky like a meteor.
I gripped the edges as fire licked the viewport, Dathomir pulling me in like a dying god.
Impact.
Sand and ash exploded, rattling the pod like a tin can.
When the dust settled, I stepped into a world unlike any I'd known.
Smoke and whispers filled the air.
The sky bled red above jagged mountains.
Trees twisted unnaturally.
The ground pulsed beneath my feet like a living creature.
Quiet, but not silent.
Something was always listening.