RAVA RAXUS ASKED:Â â you are alone , child. there is only darkness for you , and only death for your people. â
she spoke like a fucking jedi. elevated, like someone who stood above the rest. the same way zaeda had been taught to hold herself. it was all part of the job. their face was exposed, twisted scars visible over her features, overwhelming the face beneath them. âprofound.â their voice was strained, despite the effort she put into sounding nonchalant, easy. âyou know so much about meâ even a prophecy wouldnât mean much to her anymore. what was a prophecy when the future could be changed so easily? she was dead, now sheâs not. maybe someone would kill her again, and sheâd come back again. maybe that was what life really was. a vicious fucking cycle of pain and wrong prophecies. âtell me more. make sure you say it pretty, just like that.â
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âI donât.â she offered, not that Zaeda had asked. more that this was getting awkward, and the words bubbled over her lips before she could really filter them properly. she wasnât known for having the best filter in good times, and this was just an awkward one. ânice to meet you zaeda. is there anything you do like? I like oranges.â it was a weird thing to pick, but it was the first thing in her mind. and her filter was low.
the genuine positivity seeped from the other with every word, and it might have been sweet if it wasnât so... frustrating. how hard had this kidâs parents worked to keep her so naive? âanything?â they made a show of thinking, raising their eyes skyward. âmm. no. nothing.â zaeda smiled a little, though it was hidden beneath the scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face, because she did like tookas. bitey little creatures. that was half the reason she liked them. they focused their gaze back down on milla. âwhat do you have to be so positive about this place, anyway? it reeks. they can make as many pretty gardens as they want, but the real hosnian prime is down there in the streets. where people are starving, gambling, beating kids and throwing them in gutters. maybe they get out of it if theyâre special, if they can give something to someone, but more often than not, they just die there, and then theyâre forgotten. what is there to like about that?â
KANAN JARRUS ASKED:Â âDo I look like the kind of man who dies?â
the question made zaedaâs skin crawl. âiâve never considered myself to look like one, so maybe looks donât fucking matter.â it wasnât his fault, and they knew it was unfair to snap at anyone who wasnât actually involved in their death, but then again, life (and death) werenât fucking fair. still, recognizing him, remembering the kid he used to be, actually made her feel a little guilty about the way she responded. she should have been happy for him for surviving, and deep down, she knew probably was â but just then, she was spiraling all over again, heart and head pounding as they remembered their life had ended. ended. that moment, the pain and the silence, rang in her mind ad infinitum. it made it hard to be happy or level. âso, you survived. howâd you manage that?â
âwell, it is a core planet.â Milla answered, not even needing to locate it on a map. Milla knew the names and locations of at least the core worlds, even if she needed to be told which one she was on. she folded it up, carefully, and held out a hand to Zaeda. âIâm milla. do you hate hosnian prime?â
zaeda rolled her eyes, turning to walk away from the girlâs quipped response. she must have been sheltered â such a simple response, true but lacking nuance. not that zaeda was in any place to judge. they were rarely nuanced in their opinions about anything. she hesitated and stopped, turning back around to face milla, unable to help herself. âi hate most planets,â zaeda said, âand most things. nothing personal.â well, that was a lie. with hosnian prime, it was very personal. she looked down at millaâs outstretched hand â how long had it been since she had such a civil exchange with someone? but old habits die hard, so instead of shaking millaâs hand, they nodded. âzaeda.â
Milla almost never stepped off the ship because she was allowed to. she almost always got into trouble when she got free reign over whatever planet they docked at, and as such her parents stopped letting her off-board. except that made it worse, because she always wanted to see. so really, she just snuck out a lot. and such was the case when the bright horizon docked onâŚ
wait, where was she?
she hadnât asked before slipping away, and now she found herself wandering around looking for clues. giving up, because sheâd never been much for geography, she stared down at her map, asking for help from a passerby. âwhich planet is this?â wait, what if they werenât on a planet? she shouldâve just asked before she ran off.
to zaeda, the hanging gardens of hosnian prime was its only redeeming factor. the planet was another coruscant but smaller, and still, she hated it more. whenever they set foot on its surface, it didnât feel like home, it felt like a prison. like a place she could never escape, no matter how far out of its orbit she traveled. and their feeling was right, apparently, because they were back. again. sure, this time they were smuggling, but what difference did it make? sheâd always end up back.
 zaeda heard it had been destroyed once.Â
perhaps the trip to the hanging gardens had been an attempt to feel something other than confused contempt about her home planet. perhaps. but the question posed to them by a stranger stirred disgust in the pit of zaedaâs stomach, and they knew even the willows couldnât help. âhosnian fucking prime.â it was half an answer, half a grumble. âcore planet my ass.â
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defne mightâve been a fool, but she wasnât fucking stupid â she knew when to shut up and when to speak, and she knew when to let someone else handle things. this stranger knew what they were doing, and defne would definitely be in the way if she decided to start helping.
â moving, â she said, scurrying out of the box. â and my apologies, had i known i was smuggling myself to coruscant i⌠well no. i probably still woulda done it. why is that a bad thing again? â she asked, following her savior.Â
zaeda looked over her shoulder at the perky stranger theyâd decided to save, for better or for worse, with a raised brow. âare you serious?â she asked out of genuine surprise. âthe galaxy is under threat, and this is coruscant.â the center of everything, some would argue â she would argue. it was a large planet, and a lot of it was nice, but she knew better than most how dirty its underbelly could be. if the threat wasnât from above, it was right here. it being under control of the empire or the first order or whatever the fuck they were calling it anymore was only half the reason to not want to be here.
zaeda stopped now and again, taking the time to peek around corners for posterityâs sake. not that a stowaway was in any place to announce that a jedi was the one helping them, but it was better not to risk it. besides, she was averse to the title now anyway. âwhat are you running from so blindly anyway? person or past?â
so perhaps it wasnât the brightest way to get around, but it was better than dealing with juggling credits around to pay for passage. smuggling herself onto a ship was easy, theoretically. get in a crate, shut up, hold it, and wait until the trip was over, then wait âtill it got quiet, then sneak out. she was far too familiar with it by now.Â
so thatâs exactly what she was doing. curled up in a little ball in a crate full of random junk on a ship she didnât know, idly waiting for the ship to get on its way. after all â the girl just woke up!! she had no clue where she was or what she was doing, so she resorted to what she knew. was that so wrong?!
but as the lid of the crate was lifted off, she realized she would have to do a lot of talking to get herself out of this one. a smile spread on her face.
pick an accent, pick a kriffing accent!! ryloth- no- festian- NO- she landed on something vaguely corellian. â you must be looking for this â â she said, holding up whatever random part she grabbed first.Â
maybe it was because the girl sounded corellian, an accent zaeda had long since lost, but as soon as they realized what was going on, they decided to break the law. her instinct was to knock the out â a quick smack to the side of the head with the handle of her lightsaber would have done the trick â but that wouldâve done nothing but left a mess. so instead she yanked the ship workerâs arm so they were facing her and instructed them to take their leave and forget what they saw.
the force helped, of course.
they glanced back at the thing the girl was holding up with a quirked brow. ânot so much.â zaeda watched the person sheâd sent along, and when they were out of sight, she turned her attention back on the girl. âyou chose a hell of a time to smuggle yourself to coruscant, you know?â though they knew it would have been polite, zaeda didnât bother pulling their mask off their face. getting rid of the ship worker should have gained trust enough. they motioned for her to get out of the crate and follow them. âmove. talkingâs not gonna get you far today.â
Sabe had been moving through the Outer Rim for a little while, gathering data, any details or information she could bring to the New Rebellion on Onderon, or give to Padme for use as she saw fit, but thing s were getting more strained and after a little too close to call skirmish with what looked like spice runners, she figured it was time to get home. Luckily not many things could keep up with her starfighter. Maybe she could go to Naboo and hideaway for sometime at the family lakehouse. But she knew the work was important and she wanted to see what others knew about the small bag of kybercrystals she relieved one of the Pykeâs of too. So many questions.
The sudden loss of onboard systems for a moment and then not able to reach, well anything, was more than unnerving. She shouldnât have been thinking about Naboo, she thought to herself as she dropped out of subspace. Luckily there were planetoid bodyâs and after some scary atmosphere hoping Sabe realized she was at Coruscant, and at least that was familiar. Plus things looked a mess as she got closer to the surface, and managed to find a hangar for th ship. She wanted out and looked around, wondering where to start first to figure out what the hell was happening.
zaedaâs eyes were focused on the hangars around the city. she traveled from one to the other, observing the people coming in and going out. not that they couldâve done much anyway, should the yuuzhan vang choose to attack coruscant. they werenât exactly ready to die again â but still, old habits die hard. she fingered the lightsaber strapped to her thigh, itching to hold it in a death grip, but knew better than to draw any extra attention to herself. she was wearing her mask over the lower half of their face â it would draw less attention than her scars.Â
zaedaâs attention was grabbed by a person who looked familiar â almost familiar. padmĂŠ amidalaâs features were ever so slightly different, but this one could only have been one of her handmaidens. âyou look confused,â zaeda said, kicking off a strangerâs ship sheâd planted herself against. âwelcome to the party.â the threat over the holonet was still ringing in her own ears as she tossed her transreceiver to the handmaiden. the message was recorded, of course. nothing like a galactic threat to listen to right before bed. âweâre fucked.â
LINDSEY MORGAN / / have you met ZAEDA ZâSHAE yet? SHE/THEY are a 30 years old NON-BINARY HUMAN, originally from HOSNIAN PRIME but typically reside on CORUSCANT. after everything theyâve gone through, they show loyalty to THE UNALIGNED. they are best known for being a TWICE-FALLEN JEDI, and i hear theyâre grown pretty CONFIDENT yet also JADED at times; i hope they survive the galactic war.
THE PAST
the zâshae family was poor, which meant hosnian prime wasnât the best planet to call home. zaeda was born not in a medical center but in their little apartment-style homeÂ
they barely scraped by. zaedaâs mother died when they were a baby, and they were raised only by their father. she never did get a straight answer on what happened to her mother because he refused to talk about it, and she learned early to stop asking. she was dead, and that was that.
zaeda's father used to say that he got involved with criminals because he wanted to bring more money home, give her a better life. we deserve a good life, donât we, zee? he was distant, and were it not for her child-like need to love, to believe that he loved her, she might have understood that they were barely a family unit. they were roommates.
it wasnât until she was six years old and kidnapped due to her fatherâs unpaid debts that she began to understand the truth. the kidnapper carved her face, using her as leverage to get her father to pay them back. he did. barely. looking back, she often wondered if it was out of love, guilt, or fear that he would be next â not that it mattered.
naturally, they couldnât afford proper treatment.Â
as if his daughter wasnât permanently scarred, as if he hadnât risked her life, as if she wasnât still picking scabs off her face weeks later, he got back involved. whether it was gambling, stealing, violence, smuggling, it didnât matter: he was drawn to it in an almost inhuman way. what they had wasnât good enough, the other paths, the paths that required a new start, harder work, real work just werenât an option.
heâd get himself killed one day. heâd get her killed one day. they lived in fear, terrified every time someone was at the door that it would be more strangers there to hurt them. they were only six, but they knew, they knew their life was in danger.
zaeda snuck onto a trade ship to somewhere, sure that anywhere would be better than there. she was right in some way, wrong in others. the ship would have brought her somewhere new, somewhere far away from her dad and the people who hated him, but she was found before the ship ever left hosnian prime. things moved quickly from there. she didnât tell anyone her name, hoping that would be enough to save her from returning home, but with the scars on their face, it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out.Â
instead she was found by what she told was a seeker.
force sensitive. of course zaeda had heard of the jedi, what child hadnât? what child didnât dream of being able to use the force, being a jedi? but she was level for a child so young, and she was sure theyâd made a mistake. iâm not special. but apparently, the midichlorians donât lie.
zaeda was a little old for a padawan, and there was some trepidation about moving forward with her training â the deciding factor was their lack of emotional attachment. with a dead mother they didnât remember, a father they felt nothing for, and not a friend to speak of, she came in bearing... nothing. trauma, but she was young. that was nothing they couldnât work through. and it got her off hosnian prime.
with nothing else in their life, zaeda threw herself into her training. day and night she practiced and studied, working jedi into her defining trait. she was not the best by any means, but she was highly skilled, her use of the force was like an art form, her skill with a lightsaber like a dance.Â
she never quite made it to jedi master. at 26 she was a jedi knight; mostly she thrived, but already she was beginning to find herself disillusioned with the jedi laws. emotional attachment was forbidden â hardly a problem for someone with no family â but the pressure to have complete control of emotions, feel nothing but peace... what kind of expectation was that? they were supposed to be making the world a better place, but still the seedy underbellies of cities in highly populated planets thrived. areas like the one she grew up in, filled with criminals, truly evil people. and what were they doing about that? what were the jedi doing to help where help was most desperately needed? the turmoil she felt in relation to these restrictions became a distraction, and despite her best efforts, it had some effect on her role as a jedi.
zaeda never broke the jedi laws, but they became distanced from the jedi order. she was fallen from their grace â once one of their most dedicated padawans, now barely a jedi... but she did her best. while being observed, she did her best to stay level. calm. find peace. on her own time, zaeda found a different purpose. they began working with a smuggler based in coruscant, and old thoughts of a father whose face she couldnât even remember often unsettled her. she pushed them aside, focusing instead on making the smugglerâs life easier. they brought valuables to less populated planets, and once working with zaeda, began providing goods to the poor areas of the most populated cities and planets.
by the time she was thirty, zaeda had pulled away from the jedi order more than ever. she was still among their ranks, had not yet severed their relationship entirely for the sake of what she could do for the galaxy among them, but very few who knew them were mistaken about where they stood. though she hadnât quite fallen, she felt as though she had... and didnât even have time to contemplate how she felt about that before order 66 was initiated.Â
zaeda went down fighting, lips curled in a snarl, eyes bright with anger. she killed one, maybe two. but it wasnât enough.
THE PRESENT
zaeda was dead. she was one of the countless jedi executed in order 66. she went down fighting, not that it meant much in the end.
they woke gasping for breath, still in the moment of their death, in this new timeline. itâs only been a month since she arrived here, and sheâs adjusted to the best of her ability, but she feels insurmountable anger over her life and how it ended.
PERSONALITY
jaded, maybe, is a nice way of putting zaedaâs personality. a more astute way of putting it would probably be fucking mad. their rage was kindled during life but lit in death; how could this happen? she only ever wanted to do something right, and for what? so a clone army could murder her at the behest of a selfish, power-hungry child playing dress up as a sith lord?
zaeda is a passionate person, and somewhere underneath the hurt and angry surface is kindness. at the end of the day she does want whatâs best for people. sheâs just really fucking bad at showing it.
itâs not that sheâs self-conscious about the scars that cover her face â theyâve had them so long that theyâve grown comfortable with her appearance â but itâs best not to bring them up or ask. she hates how identifiable they make her, hates that they remind her of a childhood she would rather forget, hates the curiosity or pity that crosses strangersâ faces when they see them. sheâs a very private person in general, but particularly sensitive on this topic.
NOTES
zaeda has a double-sided yellow lightsaber.
they most often wear a mask or some kind of face covering over the lower half of their face. a long scar is still visible on her right cheek and above her right eye, but this keeps most of them hidden.
