Star Wars Echoes Novels & Stories

Lily sits alone in the safehouse command room, surrounded by Echo’s flickering projections. The silence from the others grows unbearable as emotional tension simmers beneath the surface. Echo reports fragmented traces of proto-Echo infiltrating urban systems. The hum of the generator was steady, but everything else in the room felt off-kilter, tilted at some impossible angle Lily couldn’t right.

Chapter 61: Shards of the Mirror The silence was unbearable. Isla sat alone in the observation room of ECHO-3, a vast, high-ceilinged chamber lined with sleek glass panels and flickering holo-screens. A distant hum vibrated beneath her boots—the sound of a hidden world still turning. She stared at the holographic projection of her DNA spiral spinning slowly in midair. It glowed violet, like a cursed constellation. Data poured beside it—words she could no longer make sense of. Words that used to belong to scientists, not to monsters.

They gripped each other’s wrists, identical hands, trembling with strain. Not fear. Not hesitation. Just tension. Years of it. Lydia’s breath was sharp, ragged. Echo’s was smooth, almost serene. “You were made to survive,” Echo whispered, twisting her grip, lips close enough to taste Lydia’s breath. “But I was made to replace.” Lydia bared her teeth. “Then why haven’t you?” Echo’s smile was devastatingly calm. “Because I was waiting for you to become me.” A grunt escaped Lydia’s throat as Echo spun her, slamming her back into the steel exam table. Cold metal kissed her spine. But Lydia’s hand shot out—grabbing a shattered shard of mirror from the floor.

“Echo. AQ.” Nova stared at the screen. “They weren’t trying to replace you with a system,” she whispered. “They were trying to replicate your voice.” Cassian read aloud, his voice like steel. “Subject Echo.AQ to be deployed in limited districts to assess pliability of public reaction to synthesized emotion derived from subject Quinn’s unique trauma cadence. Objective: restructure Eden without organic volatility.” Aria stood very still. “So they didn’t just record me,” she said. “They mapped my pain into a machine.”

Mira yelled, struggling to access the dampener console. But the Echo didn’t move. Didn’t need to. He just stood in the center of it all—hands at his sides, eyes closed, like a god in prayer. Then he opened his mouth— And every voice in the room spoke at once. Their own voices. Distorted. Replayed. Mimicked. “Carl Maddox, Ophelia Wolfe, Mira Kassel, Nadine Ayre.” Each name echoed from their own lips—except they hadn’t spoken.

I opened my eyes to the dark. “Then let him come.” Far from Hollow Base, beneath the ruins of the first lab, Subject One stood in silence. Behind him, rows of dark figures rose from long-sealed chambers. They are not clones and not soldiers either. They are Echoes, early test subjects that were rejected and forgotten. Now waking. He turned toward them, eyes glowing violet. “She’s ready,” he said. “And so are we.” And the mountain shook.

"Nora, it doesn't need power. It needs the specific gravity of the three things Nana cared about." ​I placed my hand on the first indentation. Liam placed his hand over the heart. And Rowan, clutching a withered, blackened lily from the garden, pressed the flower into the third. ​With a heavy, pneumatic hiss, the hatch spiraled open. ​"Everyone in! Move!" I commanded. ​The forty-two Echoes tumbled into the dark, followed by Sofia and Hestia. I was the last one in, looking back just as the greenhouse doors were kicked open. A Sterling Recovery soldier in a white tactical visor leveled his rifle at me.

She walked toward the nearest Echo, her small hand reaching out. "Maya, get back!" Killian screamed, but he was pinned by two of the Echoes, their strength far exceeding that of a natural wolf. The Echo didn't attack her. It stopped. It tilted its head in that same rhythmic, mechanical way that Caleb did. It looked down at Maya, and for a split second, the milky white in its eyes cleared, revealing a flash of a terrified, human soul trapped beneath the surface. "The resonance is recognized," the Echo said, its voice a discordant, synthesized version of Harlen’s. "The vessel is priority. Protect the vessel."

"You stand there and look serious." "I always look serious," Marcus grunted, but he straightened up. The room went quiet. Then, the iPad on the coffee table crackled to life. Ethan had chosen the track. It wasn't Mendelssohn. It wasn't Pachelbel. It was The Imperial March from Star Wars. Marcus snorted, covering a laugh with a cough. Liam smiled. It was ridiculous. It was perfect. He looked toward the hallway. Aurora walked in.

After a moment of staring at me, Harrison suddenly broke his silence. “Mia, Mia, where is Mia, I want to see Mia”, he stammered. Liam got his phone and dialed. “ Hello security, Please come in, we have an intruder. Okay, thank you”. He spoke. Harrison turned his gaze and looked at Liam, he folded his hands and pleaded. “Please Sir, please let me see my daughter just once, I am begging you please”.