The planet of Dagobah was a place where light seemed to die.
Thick, humid air clung to everything, and the swamp stretched endlessly in every direction.
The sounds of alien creatures echoed across the fog-choked marshlands, a cacophony of distant roars and the occasional flicker of movement among the trees. It was a place forgotten by time, avoided by most, and yet... it was where the last Jedi Master had gone into exile.
Aaron's ship descended into the thick mist, the landing pad barely visible through the haze. The hull groaned as it hit the marshland floor, but he didn't flinch. He had come this far—faced the shadows of the Empire, fought an Inquisitor—and now, he stood at the precipice of something even more terrifying.
The Force whispered to him, faint, like a flickering star in a sea of darkness.
He's here. You're close.
Finding the Path
Stepping out of his ship, Aaron's boots sank into the soggy ground. The air was heavy with moisture, the humidity so thick it felt as though the very atmosphere was trying to smother him. The planet was alive with the pulse of the Force, but it was wild, untamed.
Chaotic.
This wasn't the serene environment of the Jedi Temple or the calm meditation chambers of Ahch-To. This was a place of struggle, of life clashing with death, and it would test everything Aaron had learned.
Yoda is here... somewhere.
Aaron moved forward, his senses stretched outward, his hand never straying far from the lightsaber at his side. The mist parted as he pushed through the underbrush, navigating by instinct and the subtle pull of the Force.
The trees were ancient, their roots winding like serpents through the muck. Every step seemed to echo in the vast emptiness.
But there were no answers. No Yoda. No clear path.
The swamp seemed to swallow him whole.
Hours passed. The sun struggled to break through the thick canopy above, casting long shadows that twisted and turned with the wind. Aaron's frustration began to grow. His body was tired from the journey, his mind weary from years of isolation. But this was a test. He knew it. His patience, his perseverance... it would all be tested here.
He sat cross-legged in a clearing, lightsaber resting in his lap. The Force pulsed around him as he entered a deep meditation, calling upon the teachings he'd learned. He focused, opening himself to the currents of the planet, letting his mind reach out.
The swamp responded.
Whispers. Faint at first, but then stronger. The Force was calling to him, guiding him, but it was as if the swamp itself had a will—impossible to control. Aaron's senses began to stretch outward, but instead of a clear vision of Yoda, he felt only chaos. Swirling emotions, flickering images of things he couldn't make sense of. It was like trying to see through a storm.
A scream rang out through the trees.
The Dark Side of Dagobah
Aaron snapped to his feet, his heart racing. The scream was not from a creature, but from something... someone. It was an unmistakable cry of anguish.
Without thinking, he ran toward the sound.
The swamp was dense, and every step seemed to slow him down. The mud sucked at his boots, and the thick vines threatened to pull him under. But still, the scream echoed in his mind. His pulse raced as he followed the sound.
When he reached the clearing, he stopped dead in his tracks.
A figure lay sprawled on the ground, face down. At first, Aaron thought it was a creature, but then he saw the humanoid shape. A man, dressed in tattered robes, his face obscured by a hood. The body was crumpled in a heap, breathing shallowly.
Aaron knelt beside the stranger, immediately reaching out with the Force to sense his condition. The man was alive—barely—but his aura was a mess, a storm of raw emotions and hatred. His body trembled with pain and weakness, as though he'd been running for his life.
"Who are you?" Aaron asked, his voice steady but concerned.
The figure coughed, blood spattering the ground. "I... I'm nothing. Just... another victim of this place."
Aaron's brow furrowed. The man's words rang hollow, but there was something about him—something familiar. It was as if he, too, had once been a Jedi. But Aaron couldn't be sure. He could only sense the overwhelming anger that clung to him like a shadow.
Suddenly, the man's eyes snapped open, and he looked directly at Aaron. His eyes were not human—glowing with a deep, malevolent red. The anger surged forward, and before Aaron could react, the man surged to his feet, drawing a broken lightsaber from his belt. The red blade flared to life.
"You're like me," the man hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "Another one who thought they could escape it all. But the darkness... it follows you."
Aaron stood, igniting his own white blade in response. "I'm not like you."
The man smiled bitterly. "We all are. Don't fool yourself."
And just like that, the man attacked.
A Fight in the Swamp
The two combatants clashed in a blur of motion, their lightsabers meeting with a deafening crack. Aaron's white blade danced through the air with precision, but the man—his movements erratic—was like a creature of the swamp. Wild. Uncontrolled.
Aaron parried, but the broken lightsaber of the stranger was fierce, slashing unpredictably. There was an animalistic energy to his attacks—raw power fueled by rage and pain. Each strike pushed Aaron back, each movement challenging his defense.
It didn't take long for Aaron to realize the true danger here.
The man wasn't fighting like a Jedi. He was fighting like someone who had abandoned everything—someone who had given into the darkness completely. His rage was palpable, his every move driven by pure aggression.
Aaron parried another brutal strike, his shoulder aching from the impact. He had fought many times, but this felt different. The Inquisitor on that distant moon had been trained, disciplined. This man—he was feral.
He needed to end this quickly.
Aaron closed his eyes for a brief moment, focusing his mind. The Force surged through him, bringing clarity. He saw the opening.
With a sudden burst of speed, Aaron attacked, disarming the man in a fluid motion.
The man stumbled back, his lightsaber falling to the ground. But Aaron didn't strike him down. Instead, he held his blade at the man's throat.
"You don't have to keep running," Aaron said softly.
The man spat, blood staining his lips. "You're just as lost as I am, boy. You think you can save yourself? There's no redemption in the darkness."
Aaron's grip tightened on his saber hilt.
"There's always a choice."
With that, he knocked the man unconscious and left him in the swamp, his lightsaber flashing brightly as he turned away.
A Swamp of the Mind
As Aaron stood alone in the clearing, the echoes of the fight still lingered in his mind.
The swamp seemed to close in on him again, the Force now an overwhelming presence that he couldn't escape.
Yoda is close. You must find him, Aaron.
He knew the truth now—he couldn't face what lay ahead of him alone. His power was vast, but raw. Unrefined. If he wanted to defeat the darkness that loomed over the galaxy... if he wanted to truly understand the Force, he needed guidance.
With a heavy heart, Aaron resumed his search.
Yoda was waiting.
And this time, Aaron would not stop until he found him.