The Children of the Stars

Hellhound Two

All Allana Skywalker knew about her mother's childhood was that she'd lived in a tipped over AT-AT known as the Hellhound Two. Having been lucky enough to only see the war machinery in Holos or models or museums, she found it almost charming. Like one of those old holos for kids that Face Loran would be in.

Seeing the reality, however, felt completely different.

Allana had heard from her father that feelings and memories could remain in the Force, trapped in certain objects and places, like a sort of residue. That was the idea behind the masks that the Acolytes of the Beyond used.

The Hellhound Two was another one of these places, Allana decided as she followed Valin under the canvas covering the doorway created by the missing bottom panel of the AT-AT. Loneliness pervaded the oxygen of the space, made Allana's arms unnaturally cold.

The space was so small. How had her mother lived there for fourteen years? There was a hammock in the corner, the makeshift kitchen, and a few pots of attempts at preserving what greenery could be found on Jakku.

Allana stood on tip-toe to reach a shelf where there was a doll made of scraps. It resembled an X-wing pilot. Allana had one like it at home, one that her mother made for her as a little girl.

Rey had made this one for herself, Allana realized, her heart breaking at the thought.

"Hey, you gotta come take a look at this."

Allana turned to see what Valin was talking about.

One wall of the AT-At was covered in tally marks, going up the entirety of it.

"She was counting the days." Allana reached out to feel the metal and the cut ridges. "She'd done it since—"

"Since she was first left here," Valin said. "By her parents. I can't imagine— if this was what it took to keep her safe—"

Allana shook her head. "I don't believe that. No parent leaves their child in a place like this forever."

Her parents had left her for a little while. But now, Allana had something to be grateful for. At least she wasn't alone, in those years of exile.

At least she'd had companionship, had been cared for, and Tenel Ka had been watching out for her.

Allana's stomach turned with guilt in memory of the trick that she and the handmaidens had played on her, were playing on her.

Tenel Ka didn't deserve her heir to be running around the galaxy while a fraud stayed in her place.

"We should scout the perimeter."

Valin's voice tugged her out of her guilt and spiral of emotions. Her hand rested on her lightsaber hilt as she nodded.

"Let's check it out, then."

The outside of the AT-AT was empty, except for where an X-wing pilot lay, hidden against the foot of the formerly great war machine.

Allana knelt down to pick it up.

"This belonged to Dosmit Raeh."

Allana thought that part was funny. Then the thought occurred to her— was Rey even really her mother's name by birth? She was so young. . .

Allana set the helmet down, and stood. She could feel Valin's eyes on her.

"I never knew," she said simply. "I'd heard the stories— all of us had. But I don't think any of us really understood what she went through."

Allana could see it all now. She knew factually, why her mother tended to hoard food cans and overstocked the Praxeum's pantry. Coruscanti psychologists could tell anyone that.