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In the moments after Cal uses the Force to save him Prauf has a lot of thoughts. At first he’s shocked. He has known the kid for years. Practically watched him grow up. And sure, he acted a bit strange sometimes, but Prauf would have never thought he had the Force. That anyone with that power would pick Bracca to hide out on.
He’d just assumed it was being on Bracca. That it was some traumatic past making him so skittish and wary. That’s probably true though, just not in the way he had thought. He had been pretty scared when Prauf found him. Cal had never told him, and Prauf had never asked.
But no. Cal is a Jedi.
Or...he’s supposed to be one at least. The Jedi Order died the day the Empire rose to power.
Then Prauf feels a rush of gratitude. Cal risked a lot to save him. It’s dangerous. Just that little moment is enough to put Cal’s entire life at stake. Prauf is not blind or deaf. He knows the Empire hunts Jedi. Their propaganda is everywhere. Having these Force powers is not safe. He doesn’t know what they do to them, but it can’t be good. And Cal is only seventeen. He’s just a kid.
He’s just a kid .
The Empire doesn’t care.
Lastly, Prauf is overcome with concern. Absolute horror at the idea that the Empire might get ahold of him. Cal is a good kid. Even after years on Bracca he has remained kind and gentle. A rare quality to find on the planet. The Empire is not kind to its normal citizens. It will rip him apart. Prauf is sure of it.
Cal can’t stay. The realisation crushes something in him. Cal is his friend. His best friend. Cal has grown up in front of his eyes. Prauf still remembers when he needed new clothes almost every week because he just wouldn’t stop growing. There’s no one in the galaxy Prauf trusts more than Cal. But it’s not safe here. It’s not worth the risk for him to stay. Cal needs to get out of here. It’s not safe for him.
The thought of Cal leaving Bracca settles heavily in the pit of his belly. Bracca without Cal feels cold and lonely. But if it means Cal is not dissected by the Empire it’s a sacrifice Prauf is willing to make. Cal is young. He has so much longer left. Prauf has already lived most of his life without Cal by his side. He can handle a couple more.
Cal sleeps peacefully next to him. As peacefully as it gets. He mutters unintelligibly under his breath as his head rests against the durasteel. Cal has never been a big guy - not even for a human - but he looks impossibly small now. A mop of fiery, red hair, a small frame obscured by a rigger poncho, and a scarred face.
The world has not been kind to Cal Kestis. But the world is seldom kind to anyone these days. It’s not fair. It really isn’t.
Prauf has a lot of questions. About the Force. About the Jedi. About how he landed on Bracca of all places. About a lot of things. But this isn’t the place to ask them. It’s not the time to ask them. It probably never will be now. Cal will leave Bracca and disappear without a trace. Prauf might never see him again after today.
The train stops. Prauf’s heart sinks. This can’t be good. It never is.
How could they know already? It was just him and Cal. It’s not even been an hour since it happened. Panicked thoughts race through his mind as they line up outside.
Cal is shaking like a leaf next to him.
Either Cal comes forward or all of them die. The Empire doesn’t care about their lives, but Cal does. And Prauf knows that.
Before Cal can even think of doing something stupid Prauf steps forward. Cal tries to stop him. Practically pleads for him to stop. It almost works. It’s always been hard to say no to him.
It’s too late. And Prauf is tired. It’s about time he said his piece.
It doesn’t go well. Not that he expected it to. It’s the Empire after all. He’s right. They don’t care. Expendable. Every single one of them.
As an engineer lightsabers had always fascinated him. How they’re built. How they work. It’s not like the average guy could get ahold of them, after all. And now one has gone straight through him, as if he was just a sheet of flimsi.
He just wishes Cal didn’t have to see it. The look on his face would surely kill him if he wasn’t already sure he was dying.
Cal screams. A guttural and heartbreaking sound. Prauf has never heard him yell like that. Not even when he used to wake up every night from nightmares.
His lightsaber shines a brilliant blue as it clashes against the inquisitor’s red one. Prauf has always liked blue better than red anyway.
Prauf has never met a Jedi before Cal. He had all kinds of ideas of what they were during the Clone Wars. Even before. Kenobi and Skywalker are names he recalls from back then. The Republic’s poster boys. He had scoffed at it at the time, but looking back at it he prefers that over the Empire. Back then they at least pretended to care. Back then he had a life. Back then kids like Cal didn’t have to grow up on scrapyards. Back then they had a choice.
He hopes Cal gets away. The galaxy is not fair, but he hopes it will be a little fair to Cal for once. Just for a little while, at least. If not for Cal’s sake, then for his. His life might not be worth a lot, but he hopes it’s enough to save the kid.
Dying’s not that bad, Prauf muses, if it means people like Cal get a fighting chance.
The last thought he has before the darkness takes him, is that Cal is what he thinks a Jedi should be.