An Insignificant Thing

The wind swirled through the plain, rustling leaves and grass. It was a caress, a gentle touch, that traced swirls across the exposed skin of her arms and forehead.

It almost felt like the touch of an old, long-lost lover.

The rustle of the grass was a whisper in her ears.

It almost sounded like the voice from her past. Someone whose voice she had not heard from in far too long. Someone whose voice she would do anything--even fall to the Dark--in order to hear again. Someone whose voice she had fallen to the Dark in order to hear just one more time.

She stared out at the empty savanna, before lifting her eyes to the curved ceiling in the distance.

It had taken her years, but she had finally arrived.

Ten years of hunting through the nether regions of the galaxy after her failure at Jacen's hands.

Ten years of searching, and struggling. Of pain and loneliness.

Ten years.

But she had succeeded. She had found the place where her heart had died.

She had found the place where her life had shattered.

She had found the place where her world had crumbled.

She had finally managed to find the dying remains of the Baanu Rass.

After over 25 years, she had finally returned, ready to face the ghosts of her past, ready to conquer them.

Jacen had taken her to a Baanu Rass all those years ago, but they had been out in the middle of space, in high orbit around Myrkr, not on the Koros-strohna itself.

She had gone to visit the Aing-Tii and she had learned what Jacen had teased her with. She had learned Flow Walking.

Clearing her mind, she she settled into a meditation pose.

With a slow exhale, she subsumed herself into the Force, feeling the Flow of Time as it tried to pull her forward. With a shift of her will, she trudged backwards, fighting the Flow, enforcing her will upon it, turning it backwards.

She knew that with the Force, all was possible.

She knew that with the Force, she would be able to go back in time.

She knew that with the Force, she would be able to unanchor herself from the present, and travel into the past.

She opened her eyes, and knew the Force was with her. All around her, she saw a mixture of Yuuzhan Vong and coral-implanted slaves.

And there in the midst of them was a group of Jedi.

They were young, nothing more than children, and not for the first time, she wondered why in the name of the Force, that Master Skywalker had allowed them to go on that insane mission.

Her eyes tracked them, and then she ignited her saber.

All movement stopped, and for the first time in nearly a decade, Tahiri Viela smiled.

As a fifteen year old apprentice, she had no concept of what a fully-trained Jedi would be capable of fighting like. Yes, she had seen the Masters fight one another, and even fight against the Yuuzhan Vong; but it was one thing to watch, and another thing entirely to be able to do such herself.

She became a blur.

Her saber flashed, and flashed.

It was a sheet of blue lightning, that tore apart Yuuzhan Vong warriors and coral-implanted slaves alike.

Finally, she stopped, and found herself standing amongst the Young Jedi. They stared at her, wide-eyed, and confused.

Then her heart began hammering in her chest, and she found it difficult to breath. Neither physiological action had anything to do with the battle she had just fought.

It was a reaction to what she saw. Who she saw.

Anakin.

He was standing between his sister and her own, younger self, and she noticed that he was holding his hand over the open, bleeding wound of his stomach. She knew that she had been too late, and without saying a word to any of them, she released her grip on the Force, and allowed the Flow of Time to pull her back to the present.

Time flowed around her, a jumbled mish-mash of potentials and possibilities. A cacophony of futures and pasts, and possible presents.

With a gasp, she stumbled forward, once again finding herself on the empty wind-swept plain of her present.

She was still in the slave-city from so many years ago, but now, those buildings had died, and just their mummified remains were left for her to see.

Then memories slammed into her.

They seared through her synapses, bright and shining and powerful.

Anakin proud and strong, even though he was wounded. Her still denying him that last kiss. His still dying. Him still throwing away his life away in a vain attempt to destroy a few dozen cases of voxyn clone embryos.

Tears flowed through her. Burning hot as they slashed down her face. She had sacrificed so much, only to still fail.

Then with a sad sigh, she realized the truth. She had attempted to change too much. Killing all of those warriors, intendents and slaves had been too much.

The Aing-Tii had taught her that the past could not be change significantly. That any significant changes would be corrected by the Force, and once more flow into the gentle Way of Time.

What they had not taught her, was what they meant by significant.

Tahiri knew that she did not need to make a significant change in order to bring about changes to the present.

She exhaled, and stood up, looking around her. Then she found what she was looking for, a small alcove, an entry way that led deeper into the Baanu Rass. Deep into its bowels, and the warrens where the wild, escaped voxyn had made their nests.

The warrens where the young Jedi had fled after that fatal fight when Anakin had been injured.

Gingerly, she walked through the warrens; the spicy scent of voxyn still hung heavy on the air, and the mummified remains of sterile eggs were arranged in nests of straw and dried grass, surrounded by the bones of their would-be parents.

It reminded her so much of her own life. A terrible waste. The end result of a terrible war. Pointless, vain hopes, that ended in dust and misery.

Finally, she found her destination: the mummified remains of the hovel where the young Jedi had spent a few hours trying to rest and sleep after the disaster within the slave village.

Smiling, she once more pulled the Force to her.

She twisted the Force, and imposed her sense of self upon the Flow of Time to force it to take her back to the past.

And it obeyed her will, depositing her into the time and place she desired.

She watched the hovel and waited, her robe pulled tightly over her head, helping her to hide in the shadows of the warrens.

She did not have to wait long.

Her younger self stepped out of the hovel, for what Tahiri knew was to be the first watch.

She stood up, and threw back the hood from her head and then walked forward.

The younger Tahiri glared at her, and then her eyes flickered across the scars that were still prominent on her forehead.

"Who's there?" The younger Tahiri asked as her hand slapped down to the saber on her belt.

"Hello, Tahiri," she said to herself.

Her younger self's eyes opened wider, "You... you're me!"

Tahiri chuckled slightly. "From a certain point of view."

"Wha... how? Why?" her younger self asked in a stammering voice.

Tahiri smiled. "It's a long story, and not that important."

"Why is it not important? I'm confused..."

"That's all right," she replied calmly. "What you need to know, what I've came back to tell you is this... whatever happens, kiss Anakin."

"Why?"

"Because love can ignite the stars. Love can change everything. Love can make the strongest, and most canny fighters, try harder and do better."

A frown flashed across her younger face. "I don't understand..."

Tahiri smiled sadly as she started to release her strangle hold on the Force. "You will."

"I-"

Tahiri interrupted her younger self. "No. No more questions. Just remember: kiss Anakin."

Then she was back in the Flow of the Force, in the river of time.

As she watched time itself twist around her. She realized something.

She found something, that for far too long she had believed to be dead within her.

She found that she did have hope.

Even though for her the majority of her life, those hopes had been in vain, they were still there and still burned brightly. Her dreams were still alive, her faith in once again having a home and a life were merely a banked fire; one ready to burst out into a blazing inferno with but the merest hint of possibility.

She found that she had a faith in her younger self, and the love that still burned brightly in her chest.

She hoped that her younger self would kiss Anakin.

She had faith that her younger self would give Anakin that kiss.

She knew that that could, would, give him something to fight for.

She had hope.

She had life.

She had her love.

She knew that all three could change the world. The galaxy. The universe.

She knew that it was unfair to place such a burden upon such a simple thing as a kiss.

But still, she had faith that that single kiss would be one of those eternal moments on which the world hinged.

She had faith in that kiss.

She had faith in that simple act, and its ability to save her present.

After all, it was such an insignificant thing, a kiss.

A kiss was merely a sign of love or affection between two people.

The press of lips against lips. In so many ways, it was so... insignificant.

Yet she still knew... she still hoped that a kiss could change her life.

A kiss could give him something to live for.

A kiss could ignite the stars.

A kiss could change the world.