The dusty haze of Lothal's twin suns made the skyline shimmer as the day bled toward evening. Vendors shouted in the markets, stormtroopers patrolled lazily, and speeders cut through the air. To most, it was just another day under the Empire's grip. But to Kael, every passing hour was another reminder of how close the timeline was inching toward the story he already knew.
He sat in the shadow of a stone wall near the market square, hood pulled low to cover his face. At twelve years old now, his frame was wiry but hard, shaped by years of training and scavenging. He wasn't strong enough to challenge the Empire directly, but he was no helpless child either. His eyes flicked constantly, tracking movement, noting exits, counting weapons. He had lived on Lothal for long enough to know how quickly things could go wrong.
The familiar chime rang in his vision.
[System Notice: Stealth Skill Increased to Level 3. Observation Skill Increased to Level 2.]
The blue text faded quickly, and Kael smirked. The System was subtle, never flashy, but always there—growing with him, pushing him to sharpen what he already knew from his old life. He had never told anyone about it. He never would. This was his secret weapon.
A commotion broke his focus. Near one of the fruit stalls, a group of stormtroopers shoved a Rodian farmer into the dirt. His cart of meiloorun fruit spilled, rolling across the ground. The Rodian tried to protest, but one of the troopers cracked him in the side with a blaster rifle. The crowd looked away, silent, afraid.
Kael clenched his jaw. This was the Empire—domination through fear. He had seen this scene a dozen times since living here, and every time it burned. He wanted to leap in, to fight, to stop them—but he knew better. He couldn't reveal himself, not yet. He had ten years to prepare, and he wasn't about to waste them on a fight he couldn't win.
Still, he moved. Not openly—just a subtle drift into the crowd, close enough to where a small distraction could make a difference. His hand brushed against a loose stone near a merchant's stand. With a practiced flick, he tossed it toward a nearby alley. The clatter echoed loud.
The stormtroopers stiffened, turning their helmets toward the sound. In that split second, the Rodian scrambled to his feet and bolted, vanishing into the press of the market. By the time the troopers turned back, their victim was gone. They cursed, scanning the crowd, but moved on without further incident.
Kael allowed himself a tiny grin. A win was a win. He slipped back into the shadows before anyone could notice.
Later, he returned to the small safehouse he had carved for himself on the outskirts of the settlement—an abandoned storage shed, patched and reinforced with scrap metal. Inside, the dim glow of a lantern revealed shelves lined with scavenged parts, makeshift training equipment, and a carefully hidden stash of credits and supplies. It wasn't much, but it was his.
He collapsed onto the cot, staring at the ceiling. Memories of his old life surfaced—Earth, the twenty-five years he had lived there, the nights spent binging Star Wars marathons, the heated forum debates, the endless theories. Now, those same memories were maps and warnings. He knew who was coming, what the future held. He knew of Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, Hera Syndulla, and the spark they would light. And he knew he had to be ready to stand beside them—not as a passive bystander, but as someone who could shape the outcome.
The chime returned.
[System Mission: Survive and Prepare.]
[Objective 1: Strengthen Combat Ability – Progress 18%.]
[Objective 2: Establish Resources – Progress 22%.]
[Objective 3: Build Network – Progress 5%.]
[Reward: Skill Point +1.]
Kael sighed. The System always phrased things in cold, game-like terms, but he had come to rely on it. Slowly, steadily, he was climbing.
The next morning, he traveled to the outskirts of the grasslands. Lothal's endless plains stretched in all directions, dotted with herds of grazers and the occasional settlement. It was quiet here, away from the eyes of stormtroopers. He used the space to train.
With a scavenged electrostaff, he ran through drills—strikes, parries, footwork. Sweat ran down his brow, muscles burning. Every swing reminded him of how far he had to go, but also how much stronger he had become. He practiced blaster aim with a cobbled-together pistol, firing at rocks he had painted with makeshift targets. Each time he hit the center, the System rewarded him with tiny progress notifications.
Hours later, he collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, staring at the sky. Twin suns glared down, unforgiving. But he felt good. He felt alive.
Back in town, whispers spread of growing resistance movements. Farmers angry at taxes, smugglers frustrated with Imperial patrols, families mourning lost sons. Kael listened, carefully storing away every name, every hint of rebellion. He couldn't reveal himself, not yet. But he could learn. He could prepare.
And then came the moment that changed his week.
He was in the marketplace again when he saw her—a girl about his age, dark hair cropped short, eyes sharp, movements confident. She walked with purpose, a satchel slung across her shoulder. Kael's breath caught. He knew that face. Sabine Wren.
Not yet the artist-saboteur of the Ghost crew, not yet the warrior she would become, but still unmistakably her. She was younger, still finding herself, but already radiating the spark of rebellion. She moved through the crowd unnoticed, but Kael's heart raced. This was it—the beginning. The timeline was moving closer.
He pulled his hood lower, forcing himself to stay calm. He couldn't approach her. Not yet. But seeing her here, alive, real—it reminded him why he was fighting, why he was preparing. The story he had once watched from afar was now reality. And he wasn't just an observer anymore.
That night, as he lay on his cot, the System chimed one last time.
[System Notice: Destiny Encounter – Sabine Wren. Timeline Proximity Confirmed.]
Kael stared at the glowing text, his chest tight. It was beginning. He had ten years to prepare, but already, the future was catching up to him. And when it arrived, he intended to be ready—not as a spectator, but as a force that would shape the galaxy alongside them.