Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Loth-wolves were mysterious and beautiful creatures. Native to the planet Lothal, they were able to use hyperspace tunneling to cross impossible distances. When it suited them, they could even traverse time by entering the World Between Worlds. Most people believed them to be extinct. I, for one, knew they weren’t real, but I loved their animation design. Gosh, it’d be cool if creatures like that existed on Earth.

Then one day, one did.

I was lazing in a park on a warm autumn afternoon, wearing my favorite leggings and combat boots. Life was fine, but it was times like this that made me ache for more. I was between jobs, writing fiction to pass the time, no permanent friends or family who would miss me if I just sank into the grass and disappeared. Hm, maybe I could write a story about that.

Oh, I didn’t mind, really; I moved into and out of people’s lives all the time, loved just being a good influence in their world until they were ready to let me go. Like I was the therapist friend. I wasn’t really meant to stick around long-term.

But it made me wonder, you know? Staring up into that blind blue sky, watching the wisps of cloud roll past. What would it be like if I didn’t just roll past? If I stayed? Maybe it was why I enjoyed fantasy and sci-fi so much—not so much for the escapism, but for the feeling that I could love these characters and they’d never go away. I could hold on forever and ever and ever. Since I was a crutch, I existed only to wean people off of me, and while I loved it, I couldn’t claim it wasn’t lonely.

That was how the Loth-wolf found me.

Loth-wolves knew things. Call it intuition or attunement to the Force, but they seemed to just sort of know if someone required their guidance. If someone needed immediate protection. If someone was good or evil.

If someone belonged in another galaxy.

She felt me, like a voiceless call through the Force, and the elder Loth-wolves granted her permission to answer. They didn’t do this often, but it was allowed when necessary. She traveled a long time hence to a galaxy far, far away from Lothal, where things were familiar yet strange, and the Force expressed itself in different ways. There, in a grassy park near my apartment, she found me—a soul born misplaced and singing for release.

She put me to sleep—it was easier this way—and pulled me onto her back, careful to remain unseen. Then, listening to where the Force said I belonged, she tunneled through space and followed the call.

I woke to a sight I had only seen in TV shows and video games. The world around me was old and red and strange, filled with thriving life yet somehow still exuding a feeling of decay. Great snaking tree trunks wound through my surroundings and into the air above my head. Far away, a giganto-frickin-normous bat screeched.

I was on Dathomir.

Naturally, I knew I must be dreaming, or at least hallucinating, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that information. I didn’t normally think about the dream state while I was in it, but... first time for everything, right? How else could I be here in Star Wars land?

I sighed. Of all the places to dream myself into, it just had to be Dathomir. I wondered where in the timeline I was? And where on the planet? Hopefully not too close to the Nightsisters; they were creepy as heck.

But, uh... how the heck was I supposed to get off of this planet? The only communicator I had was a cell phone, and I doubted that would be of any use in this galaxy. Even if I did have someone’s comm channel, there was no way my phone possessed the range needed to call anyone for aid. Plus, you know, no service. And nothing in my satchel-purse would be of any help whatsoever.

As I was contemplating this, though—and wondering how long it’d be before a wild rancor made me its lunch—I heard a ship fly overhead. Well, it was a start.

“Please don’t be bad guys,” I grumbled, turning toward it.

It was a VCX-100 freighter, the same type of ship as the Ghost, and it landed nearby. I could see the carved cliffsides of the Nightsisters’ home through the trees a ways off, which left me uneasy. The people in the ship were probably here to do business with Mother Talzin, so they at least were expected and would soon be greeted by some Nightsister warriors. If I got any closer, the warriors would know I was here, too, and I didn’t fancy meeting those witches. (Though of course, that was all assuming they hadn’t been wiped out yet.) Frickin’ stupid dream, landing me practically on their doorstep.

When I emerged into the clearing where the freighter had landed, I was greeted by the sight of Jedi Masters Kit Fisto and Plo Koon in conversation beside the ship. I shouldn’t have been surprised—it was a dream, after all—but I was anyway. Two of my favorite Jedi were right here, on Dathomir of all places! They’d had some complications in their travel plans, which was why they’d come in a freighter instead of their personal fighters. (Will of the Force, y’all.) They were here to discuss the planet’s neutrality in the war.

“Master Plo!” I called. “Master Fisto!” I had no idea if they’d understand me, but I might as well try.

The two Jedi turned, looking genial, if a bit confused. I clearly wasn’t a Dathomirian witch, so why was I here?

“Yes?” Master Plo said. “What can we do for you, madam?”

Oh man, that was actually Plo Koon’s voice. I was talking to Plo Koon and Christofisto! (“Kit” is a nickname for “Christopher,” ergo “Christofisto.” Deal with it.) And thank goodness, they spoke English. Or was I speaking Basic? Ah, it didn’t matter. Dream logic. Now, how to explain my predicament?

I approached them at the ramp of their ship. “Hey, guys, I... honestly, I dunno how to even... Fine. I’m stranded on Dathomir and could really use a lift.”

“Well, that’s quite unfortunate,” Fisto said. (Holy crap, his accent was even better in person!) “Once our business here is concluded, we’ll be happy to give you a lift to the nearest spaceport.”

Thanks to his fabulous accent and Plo Koon’s fatherly smile, I was definitely starting to fangirl, which actually confused me since I’d never done it before in a dream. Oh, I’d been excited before, but this was real, honest fangirling. And... and there were a lot of very fine details to this dream, even more than usual. I could smell the sickly sweet flora, feel the warm stale breeze. But... I had to be dreaming, right?

Koon tilted his head at me. “How did you come to be stranded here, of all places?”

Man, I wished I knew that. “I must’ve hit my head or something,” I said sheepishly. “I don’t even know when I am. What’s going on in the galaxy right now? Maybe that’ll help.”

Fisto cocked an eyebrow in an incredulous smirk. “The Clone Wars,” he told me. “The whole galaxy has divided into Republic or Separatists. That must have been some head injury.”

Well, I should’ve known it was pre-Order 66, otherwise these two would both be dead. “How far into the war are we?” I asked.

“Nearly two years,” Koon said. They both looked simultaneously amused and concerned, which I supposed was fair. How could I live in this galaxy and not know all this? (Psych—I didn’t live here!)

Hm. The Clone Wars TV show was kinda vague on exactly when certain things happened—they had a history of showing episodes out of chronological order—but this did help me ground myself a little more. Had Umbara happened yet? What about Lola Sayu? Dooku’s betrayal of Ventress? And how could I ask without sounding like I either knew state secrets or was a maniac?

“Are you all right?” Koon asked.

I pursed my lips. “I’ve met some Jedi before,” I lied. “Tell me, are Master Piell and Master Krell still alive?”

The two men glanced at each other. “Master Krell is fine,” Koon said, “but I’m afraid Master Piell has recently passed on.”

Hm. So that meant that Echo was newly in Separatist hands; Krell’s evil had yet to be discovered; Hardcase, Fives, Tup, Waxer, and all the soldiers who’d die on Umbara were still alive; Padmé wasn’t pregnant yet; nobody knew about inhibitor chips; Barriss hadn’t bombed the Jedi temple (and framed Ahsoka for it) yet; Satine was still alive; and Death Watch hadn’t taken over Mandalore yet, which also meant they probably hadn’t joined up with Maul.

“Is Ventress still working for Dooku?” I asked.

Fisto nodded. “She is. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some business to attend to. You’re welcome to wait for us on the ship.”

So the show was a bit out of order. Ventress was still working for Dooku, so Savage hadn’t been mutilated and enslaved yet, Feral was alive, and Maul was still in a garbage pit somewhere. This just kept getting better and better. Sure, this was all just a dream—how could it be otherwise?—but I could still do as much good as possible before I woke up.

First order of business: save the Nightbrothers.

“I need your help,” I said, lowering my voice in case any Nightsisters were nearby. The Jedi had already started walking away, but they paused to look back at me.

“Of course,” Koon replied. “We shall take you where you—”

“No. I need your ship. We have to rescue the Nightbrothers.”

Naturally, they looked more confused than before. I wouldn’t be able to convince them unless I told them what I knew.

“The male Zabraks on this planet live as slaves to the females,” I reminded them. “I get that you’ve been swamped lately, but allowing this slavery to continue goes against the Jedi code. You probably haven’t done anything yet cuz there’s messy politics involved, but if I steal your ship to do it, you’ll look like victims and won’t be blamed. I can take your ship, rescue the Nightbrother clan, and bring them to Iridonia or something.”

Dumping it all like that was probably not the best way to convince them, lol. Christofisto and Plo frowned.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Fisto said. “There’s a medical droid on the ship who can take care of you until we get back.”

I rolled my eyes. “I lied about hitting my head. I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m sure it’s the will of the Force that I ran into you guys when I did. I know you have no reason to trust me, but please try. We have to save those guys before any more of them get killed or enslaved in a Selection.”

Koon looked thoughtful. He’d seen many injured people in this war and before, and I did not seem injured to him. Still, they had no reason to trust me yet.

I sighed and lowered my voice even more. “Look. Sometime in the next several months, the Nightsisters will select a man here to be an assassin for Dooku. They’ll use magick to enhance his strength, size, and connection to the Force. He’s gonna kill a lot of people if we don’t prevent that, and then he’ll resurrect an even greater threat when he finds his brother Maul.”

The Kel Dor’s brows drew together. “That Sith lord is dead. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know a lot of things,” I told him. “I know that at the beginning of the war, your ship was destroyed by the Malevolence, and you were stranded in an escape pod with three surviving clones. Wolffe said no one would look for them because they were just clones, but you told them they were important to you. Uhh... Ahsoka and Anakin found your pod, you barely escaped the Malevolence’s EMP—yeah. I also know that Master Piell died on Lola Sayu during a prison break, but not before he’d passed his half of the hyperspace coordinates on to Ahsoka Tano. I hate Tarkin, by the way. Now, Mother Talzin is waiting for you guys, so you have to decide already. Will you help me? If not, I get it, just... leave me on Dathomir. I’ll find some other way to save the Nightbrothers.”

Fortunately for me, Plo and Christofisto were quick thinkers; they’d survived many a battle by trusting their instincts and the Force more than their own sense of logic. I knew secret details of the Lola Sayu mission, which either meant I was a Separatist spy, or I was a good guy who somehow knew more than should be possible. I didn’t feel like an enemy. Maybe I was Force-sensitive and had received visions?

“How do you intend to convince the Nightbrothers to leave?” Koon asked. “Dathomir is all they know.”

“Not sure,” I admitted, “but I’m hoping they want freedom badly enough to try it.”

“You may fail,” Fisto said.

“I know.”

The two Jedi shared a brief but intense look. Something about this felt right.

“Very well,” Fisto said at last. “Wait to take off until we’re inside the Nightsisters’ village. We will try to keep them busy.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” I muttered with a loud exhale. Then I hesitated. “Oh, uh... one small problem... I don’t know how to fly.”

“There is an astromech onboard,” Koon told me. “He will handle that. Make sure you disable the Jedi tracking beacon and communications array.”

I smiled. “Thank you so much. When we’re done, I can set the freighter adrift near Florrum so Hondo will pick it up and further mask Jedi involvement.”

“Florrum is rather far from Iridonia,” Fisto noted.

“Exactly,” I replied. “Oh! How do I wipe the mech’s memory afterward?”

Despite his underlying confusion, Master Plo had a parental warmth coming off of him now, like he was pleased that I was trying so hard. That guy was such a freaking dad. He explained how to wipe the droid’s memory and gave me a password to use so the mech would trust me. Then, he took my hand. “What is your name, child?”

His long claws felt so strange, and yet so warm. “Katie Ortega,” I said.

“Be careful, Katie. And may the Force be with you.”

With nodded farewells, the two Jedi Masters headed off into the trees to greet the Nightsister warriors. At the same time, I climbed up the ramp of their ship to board the freighter and begin my side quest. Holy crap. Holy crap. What had I just gotten myself into?

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for me to figure out that this was definitely not a dream. I got hit with a zap of sparks while the astromech was disabling comms, and that jolt was far too real. I was too conscious, too aware of every little detail around me. If this was a dream, and I was aware of it, wouldn’t I be able to control it to some extent? I was so not in control.

We flew to the other side of Dathomir and set down near the outskirts of the Nightbrother village. Here came the difficult part: convincing this defensive warrior clan to 1) not kill me, and 2) leave the only home and lifestyle they’d ever known in hopes that maybe we’d be able to find them somewhere to colonize beyond the witches’ reach.

As I disembarked the ship, I found I wished I hadn’t brought my satchel. It was a habit to keep it slung across my body whenever I went anywhere—especially as I was in a new galaxy now and didn’t want to lose it—but a warrior clan like the Nightbrothers would probably believe I had weapons hidden inside. Granted, some people didn’t need a weapon to inflict damage, but still. Not the best way to get them to trust me.

The Nightbrothers, most of them yellow-skinned, surrounded me and brought me before their clan leader, Brother Viscus, who stood as always on top of something very tall and far above my head. Not that it mattered—he would’ve towered above me anyway; the only Nightbrothers not taller than me were the kids, whom I saw peeking through the windows of the huts around us. I couldn’t help searching the crowd for the two faces I’d recognize besides Viscus’s: Savage and Feral, Maul’s brothers. They stood somewhere behind me with weapons trained on my back. Lol, like I could pose a threat to them if I tried.

Knowing that this was, in fact, really happening to me made my fingers shake. I wasn’t really even concerned that the men would kill me, though they might, but the culture shock alone was hitting me hard. I was actually on Dathomir. During the Clone Wars. Holy crap. I had to clear my throat twice before I found my voice. Be convincing. Be convincing!

“Hello there,” I said. There was a brief pause while my nerd brain repeated the phrase in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s voice, and then I totally lost my train of thought. Oops. “Um...” This was going just great.

“Who are you?” Viscus asked. “What do you want?”

Hallelujah, an opening! “I want to free you,” I said. “My name’s Katie. I know you’re all enslaved to the Nightsisters.”

“Enslaved?” he repeated. “Dathomirians do not make slaves of each other.”

“And yet, you panicked when you heard a ship coming because you thought it might be a Sister.”

Viscus opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

“You have to do everything they tell you,” I said, “you live in constant fear of punishment, you’ve been conditioned not to fight back when they do terrible things to you, they treat you like animals instead of people—that’s all literally the definition of slavery. But I’m here to help your clan escape Dathomir.”

I’d expected him to laugh dryly, not nervously. “And what makes you think we want to leave?” he responded.

I raised an eyebrow. “You really wanna be slaves to the witches forever? Constantly in fear of another Selection? That’s not living, that’s just surviving.”

“It is the way,” he replied. “This is our home.”

“You deserve better than this,” I said. “Your kids deserve better than this. You’re more than just animals to be pushed around and used for breeding purposes. You deserve a future of your own making.”

Viscus swallowed slightly, and I realized he was probably uncomfortable because I was a woman. Here, the females were terrible and dominant. He probably thought that if he displeased me, there would be bad consequences for his clan. Maybe he even believed I was spying for the Nightsisters.

“We are Dathomirians,” he insisted. “We belong here.”

“Plenty of Zabraks on Iridonia, too,” I said. “And they treat each other fairly.”

His eyes faltered. “Our homes are here. Our lives, our history.”

“I know it’s hard to leave behind everything you know,” I said, pushing back thoughts of the planet that I had left behind, “but wouldn’t it be safer to live beyond the Nightsisters’ reach?” He had to see that the life they had here was unhealthy and wrong.

“It would never work,” he answered softly. “The Nightmother can see our every move.”

“Mother Talzin is currently occupied by a couple of Jedi,” I told him. “If we hurry, we can escape while she’s still distracted. Please, I...” I couldn’t help glancing back at Feral and Savage. “I’m trying to save you.”

There was murmuring in the crowd of gathered Nightbrothers. I knew I was asking a lot: even if they wanted this more than anything, it was hard to leave one’s home with just a minute’s notice.

Above us, Brother Viscus shook his head. “No,” he said. “We cannot abandon our village just because some stranger tells us to.”

But the crowd shifted behind me, and Savage stepped forward. “Why did you look at my brother like that? What do you know?”

Oh boy. “At a future Selection,” I said, “you will be chosen, Savage. Yes, I know your name. The witches will use their magick to mutilate you and strip away your free will, making you their puppet to kill people. Your first kill will be Feral.”

The Zabrak growled. “I’d never—”

“You won’t get a choice,” I told him. I couldn’t help but scowl. “And you won’t even be upset about it. That’s how much control they’ll have. They’ll make you do such terrible things.”

Feral shot a worried look at him. “H-how can you know this?” he asked me.

“My Jedi friend had a vision,” I lied. “I couldn’t let it happen, so I stole a ship and came to rescue you.”

“Why not just save Savage and Feral?” Viscus asked. “Why do you want the whole clan?”

“If I only take them, the Nightsisters will just turn one of you into their monster instead,” I told him. Urgency filled my voice. “We’re running out of time, guys—Mother Talzin will only be occupied for so long. Are you coming or not?”

The whispers continued. Viscus looked indecisive.

“Please,” I begged, “let me save you.”

For about twenty seconds, the Nightbrothers engaged in tense deliberation with each other. Then, Viscus silenced them all with a hand motion.

“Gather your things, Brothers,” he said. “Take only what you need.”

A huge sigh whooshed out of me, and I jumped out of the way as pandemonium erupted in the village. Relieved and worried men grabbed weapons, tools, clothes, food—whatever they could carry—and filed up the ramp into the freighter. The children scrambled along behind them, many of them clutching crude handmade toys in their fists. Those who were too young to move quickly were carried on the hips and shoulders of others. How was this really happening? How could I ask them to leave everything behind so suddenly, with no time to pack or say goodbye to their homes?

But they were willing, and that alone was testament to the terrible treatment they’d already suffered at the hands of the Nightsisters. Freedom’s cost was sometimes steep. At least this time, that price would just be lost homes and anxious shock, not people’s lives.

So, we crowded everyone in the village aboard the “stolen” freighter, and then we took off for Iridonia.

The R3 unit that the Jedi had left behind was good at his job, but he didn’t talk much. Not that it really mattered, I guess: I couldn’t understand his beeping binary language anyway. Now that we were in hyperspace, I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself. I’d gotten the Nightbrothers onboard, but now what? R3 had everything covered in the cockpit. Should I go talk to the boys? What would I even say? “Sorry for dragging you out here on zero notice and making you space-refugees”?

Hm. At least they spoke Basic, though, which was more than R3 could do. Besides, I tended to get along well enough with children, and there were a lot of kids in their clan. Assuming they weren’t all completely terrified of women.

Leaving R3 in the cockpit to do his thing, I wandered through the cramped hallways of the ship, asking various Zabraks if they needed anything. Most of them were too scared of a female to answer honestly even if they did need something, so I sought out Brother Viscus. I found Savage instead, but he would work, too; he didn’t seem to mind speaking to me as much as the others did. He was down on one knee comforting an anxious child when I approached him in the cargo hold.

“The rest of your clan is too scared to talk to me,” I told him. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can help with?”

“We have sufficient for our needs,” he responded.

Of course they did. I eyed the orange-skinned kid in front of him, who was maybe five years old and had a crude cloth doll gripped close to his chest. Its stuffed arm was torn nearly all the way off—probably got ripped during the hasty evacuation. Cocking my head, I opened my satchel and dug around for the little sewing kit I always carried for emergencies. Once I found it, I gently held out my empty hand for the toy.

“May I?” I asked.

The little boy inhaled sharply and hugged it closer, staring up at me with wide eyes.

Oh, baby. I squatted next to him. “I can fix it,” I said, showing him the needle and thread. “Is that okay, sweetheart? I’d like to help you.”

He looked to Savage, who hesitated and then nodded. Nervously, the child passed the wounded doll to me, and I sat down and got to work.

I smiled while I stitched away. “You’re very brave, you know that? Making big changes in your life can be scary, and it can be a little tough to get used to sometimes. You’re doing very well, little one. And we have something in common, you know. We’re both refugees looking for a new home.”

“You left your planet?” Savage asked.

“I left my whole galaxy.” I frowned slightly. “I’m still not sure how I feel about it, really. It only just happened, and I didn’t exactly get a say in the matter. I don’t think the shock has fully set in yet.”

I was still trying to hold back the culture shock and “what now?” panic. But no, I didn’t want to bring the mood down. These boys had plenty on their thoughts already. With that in mind, I shoved the numbness aside and brightened my expression.

“Well! That just means we’ve got plenty of possibilities ahead of us. I’m excited for you guys; freedom is pretty great.”

I finished fixing the doll and handed it back to the Zabrak boy, who snatched it back from my fingers quickly. He carefully tested the arm, moving it up and down, and then a cautious smile melted onto his round cheeks. Though he still didn’t speak to me, I could feel his relief warming me up.

I was about to say something else when a sharp shudder ran through the freighter. Had something hit us? The Nightbrothers all looked around worriedly, and a few already-high-strung children began to cry.

“What was that?” Savage asked.

I shook my head. “I dunno. Let me go—”

The ship rocked again, more violently than before, and we were thrown against the wall. In the balcony space above the hold, a toddler lost his footing and slid across the metal floor. The men nearest him grabbed for him, but they were still off-balance from falling themselves—they couldn’t reach him—h-he was going to fall—

As the toddler tumbled off the balcony, I pushed off the wall and dove for him. He hit my arms roughly, the tiny horns on his skull cutting through the flesh of my right hand as I instinctively cradled his head against potential injury. I grunted but hung on. I was able to absorb most of the shock of the fall with a bounce of my arms, and then I crawled into a kneeling position. My knees and elbows would probably show burns and bruises later from skidding across the grooved floor like that.

The little one was screaming in my grasp, but he was unharmed. A teenager from the balcony—probably a brother or uncle—jumped down a second later to reclaim him, muttering all sorts of worried phrases. However, while I needed to pass the child off and go check on R3, and each thrash of the frightened toddler sent spasms of pain through my hand, I couldn’t figure out how to safely detach it from him. Heck, that hurt!

Savage joined us, and he and the teenager worked to extricate my hand from the toddler’s horns. I hissed in a breath as the open wounds came into contact with the air. The teenager was thanking me, and Savage was saying something about wrapping my hand, but the still-rocking ship told me there wasn’t time to relax. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed onto the ladder and climbed it one-handed to race back up to the cockpit.

“R3, what happened?” I yelled as I stumbled through the door.

Then I saw it. We had dropped out of lightspeed to switch into a different hyperspace lane, and a familiar saucer-like ship had engaged us before we could make the next jump. R3 was too busy evading and trying to fire back to also make the necessary calculations.

“Frickin’ Hondo!” I growled. Of all the times to be attacked by pirates!

Savage had followed me into the cockpit. “What is it?” he asked. “Have the Nightsisters found us?”

“No, it’s pirates,” I said. “Frickin’ Hondo. You can have the ship when it’s empty, ya drunk Weequay! R3, where’s the guns?”

He beeped a response I didn’t understand, but thankfully I remembered the location myself from the Rebels TV series, and I rushed to the gunner’s mount. Ugh—I’d forgotten I needed two hands to operate the dang thing.

“Savage, I need your hands!” I shouted. He joined me in the smaller area, and I gestured to the seat. “Can you man the gun? We just need to distract them long enough for R3 to make the jump to hyperspace.”

He nodded uncertainly and claimed the chair. He’d never exactly operated a weapon like this before, but it seemed straightforward enough: turn, push the trigger buttons, and try to aim at the target. At least he had enough experience with aiming other weapons that it wasn’t too difficult.

Savage was a poor shot, but he still managed to keep the pirates occupied until the astromech calculated the next jump and launched us into the safety of hyperspace. Once I knew the danger had passed, I groaned a little and rubbed my forehead with my good hand. Well, if this wasn’t a baptism by fire into Star Wars -dom.

Retreating once again to the cockpit, I patted the little mech on the head. “Nice work, buddy. And thanks, Savage.”

Savage hardly acknowledged me as he left the compartment. I thought at first that I might have upset him somehow—had a woman shouting at him triggered him?—but then he returned a minute later with my discarded satchel, my sewing kit, and Feral.

“My brother is a healer,” he told me. “He can address your hand.”

Feral had a bag with him of what I assumed were Dathomirian medical supplies. I wondered if maybe I’d get more hygienic and advanced care from that medical droid Christofisto had mentioned, but I had no idea where it might be on the ship, and anyway Feral probably had more experience with this particular kind of wound. Smiling gratefully, I sank into one of the rear seats in the cockpit and allowed the Zabrak to get to work.

“That was kind of you,” Feral said softly. Everything about him was soft. “What you did for Maim. His brother Carnage is very grateful to you.”

I grunted a little as he applied a stinging salve to the wounds, and he winced.

“Apologies. Our horns are especially sharp when they first come in.”

“Why did you do that?” Savage asked.

His honest surprise bothered me, and for the hundredth time, I was glad I had decided to rescue their clan. “I know it’s a foreign concept to you,” I said, “but most women really aren’t cruel or controlling like the Nightsisters. I did it because it’s instinct for me—for a lot of people. You save children from harm, regardless of gender. I’d do it again if I had to. Mmh—I just hope I don’t have to.”

Feral smiled faintly. When he had finished applying the salve to each of the wounds—six in total—he bandaged my hand with strips of homespun brown fabric just as soft as he was. Frankly, I thought I should get stitches for a couple of those holes, but it didn’t matter. I’d just get that done later (and when I had anesthetic available).

“How is Maim?” I asked.

“He’s fine,” Savage told me. “Unharmed, thanks to you. And... Gore is grateful to have his doll fixed, as well.”

My lips curled upward. I’d already made a formative impact in their lives. Granted, I’d probably have scars as a result of that impact, but hopefully this would help the Nightbrothers learn to let go of their fear of females. Scars were a small price to pay for something like that.

Chapter Text

R3 did a commendable job, not only getting us safely the rest of the way to Iridonia, but even finding an abandoned settlement in a canyon’s mouth where the Nightbrothers could begin their new lives. To ensure they wouldn’t starve in this desert, we got them in contact with a nearby village of Iridonian Zabraks, who thankfully weren’t super prejudiced against their Dathomirian counterparts.

(Meanwhile on Dathomir, Masters Plo and Fisto had just “discovered” their ship missing, but fortunately, the Nightsisters agreed to let them stay until someone else could come to pick them up. It was a good thing they didn’t know about the Nightbrothers’ departure yet, or they’d have been a lot less hospitable.)

I stayed for a few hours to help the Nightbrothers settle in, working with them to clean out abandoned buildings and repair the town’s central well. Once they’d worked alongside me for long enough, the rest of the boys began to soften up around me as Savage and Feral had. We even began trading a few jokes. But all too soon, the work was done, and then the clan assembled in the desert plain beyond the canyon to see me off.

“I know it’ll be a rough adjustment,” I told them, “but you’re all so strong, and in the long run this really will be better for you. Try to be nice to the Iridonians, okay? If you’re friendly and kind, they’ll be more likely to help you.”

I spotted Maim in the crowd, now settled on the hip of his teenage brother, and I gave the toddler a little wave. He leaned into Carnage but waved back. At the same time, Carnage nodded his thanks to me. Gore, silent as ever, peeked out from behind someone’s leg with his doll clutched tightly to his chest, and he stared at me with intent and what I imagined was a little bit of sadness.

“Where will you go?” Feral asked.

I chewed on my lip. Where would I go? Did I want to go home? Should I bother looking for a way? It wasn’t like there was anyone or anything waiting for me, and this was my favorite fandom, but I mean, I’d been plopped into the middle of a galactic war with only a year left until the birth of a galactic empire. Did I really want to stick around?

But... but if I could find the Jedi again... speak to the Jedi Council... holy heck. I could tell them about Palpatine’s plan. Warn them about Krell. Tell them Echo was alive. Save Tup and Fives (and Master Tiplar) by explaining inhibitor chips. Maybe even save Anakin from the Dark Side. Ohh man, I had my work cut out for me. Yes, yes, yes!

“You’re a refugee, too,” Savage reminded me. “You could stay.”

The invitation surprised me. Maybe we’d bonded a little on the ship, but enough to ask me to stay? Then again, maybe they were just nervous at the thought of beginning a new life from ground zero and hoped for someone knowledgeable and safe to help them out.

Some part of me did want to stick around since I felt responsible for these boys—I was the reason they’d been uprooted from their ancestral home, after all—but I couldn’t. Aside from Jedi business, I had to take the freighter far away from here so it wouldn’t be tracked to Iridonia; I would just have R3 do it, only I had to be there to wipe his memory after we left Iridonia. Honestly, I hadn’t realized until now that this meant I’d be found with the ship and quite possibly get arrested for its theft. Um... oops? Not the best way to start my life in this new galaxy. But at least the Nightbrothers were safe. That counted for something, right? Just... don’t think about life in a Republic prison.

I smiled. “That’s kind of you, Savage, but I can’t. There are things I need to do elsewhere, stuff that could save lives. Besides, I still have to wipe R3’s memory so no one knows where you are. But you’ll be all right. I can feel it.”

Brother Viscus joined us and inclined his head to me. “We cannot thank you enough, Katie. You will always be a sister to our clan.”

My heart swelled. A sister. I had brothers.

“Take care of yourselves, boys,” I pleaded. “I... I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit you again, but I’ll try. Just know that you guys really are so special. I’m so happy you’re free.”

Then, with goodbyes both spoken and unexpressed, they watched me board the borrowed freighter. I took off again, now with only the company of R3 and the powered-down medical droid. So, virtually alone. I had an emotional crisis en route to Florrum as I finally processed the culture shock and plain shock-shock of somehow suddenly being in Star Wars land, ostensibly with no way home, but I managed. I had a plan now for when I saw the Jedi again, and that gave me mental clarity.

When we arrived at Florrum, I had R3 program our attached starfighter-shuttle (the Phantom equivalent) with coordinates to someplace on Coruscant where it could land away from security cameras; that way, the Jedi would find it and be able to track its path back to Florrum for the freighter itself. Without security cameras to suggest otherwise, it would seem like the person who’d stolen the freighter had escaped in the starfighter, headed off into the Coruscant underworld, and simply left the fighter behind. This would hopefully absolve me of guilt, as I could claim I’d stowed away aboard the freighter before it was stolen from the Jedi (and therefore had never seen who or what stole it). I mean, I didn’t have to add this extra layer of confusion to everything, but maybe separating the ships and throwing pirates into the mix would further mask Jedi involvement by making it seem too illogical for a Jedi plan.

Once the starfighter was programmed and sent off to Coruscant, I wiped R3’s memory, and then I found a small compartment to hide in. To help sell my stowaway story, I also mussed my hair and clothes and doused myself with booze from a cabinet, so if anyone asked why I hadn’t noticed the entire village of Nightbrothers onboard with me, I could believably claim I’d been drunk and unconscious. I hardly liked the smell, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

About half an hour later, after they hailed the ship and received no response, Hondo Ohnaka’s pirate gang boarded the freighter. I heard them muttering complaints that they’d finally caught up with this ship only for the cargo hold to be empty. They’d expected a good payload! When they found me in my little compartment, I made a good show of “waking from a drunken stupor,” mumbled something about stupid cheap alcohol, and squint-glared at the overhead lights. They didn’t think I’d be worth anything as a prisoner, but they still took me to their base on the planet to let Hondo decide.

He was just as interesting a character as in the TV shows, but I did my best to hide my amusement and maintain the drunk act. While he was deliberating on my fate—he declared that it could be fun to keep me around as a drunken entertainer, so no thanks—one of his men announced a Jedi ship exiting hyperspace. Well, that was fast.

“Ach!” Hondo cried. “Always with the Jedi. I hope it is not about my new ship!”

Surprise, surprise: it was about his new ship.

Hondo left me inside while he went out to greet the Jedi, but I was close enough to the entrance that I’d still be able to hear. I wondered which Jedi had come? Was it Fisto and Koon again? One Jedi or more? Did they know the real story behind the freighter’s “theft”?

“Kenobi!” Hondo cried. “Skywalker! What a surprise.”

Ooh, this would be interesting. It made sense that they’d be the ones sent, though, since they’d dealt with these pirates before.

I heard the Weequay laugh. “You should have told me you were coming—I would have prepared a feast! I didn’t think you’d have time to visit your old friend with this war going on.”

“This isn’t a pleasure visit, Hondo,” Anakin said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “We’re here on Jedi business.”

“A VCX-100 light freighter was recently stolen from some Jedi on Dathomir,” Obi-Wan said. He paused, and I imagined he was casting an obvious glance at the freighter parked right next to them. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Dathomir?” Hondo repeated. “I never go out that far; I want nothing to do with those crazy witches.”

Kenobi’s tone was cordial, but I could hear the smirk in it. “I see you’ve acquired a freighter of your own since we last met. Rather an odd coincidence, don’t you think?”

Gosh, I loved these guys. It was always entertaining when they bantered with Hondo.

“Yes, yes, I was just thinking that,” Hondo replied. “Well, I do hope you find what you’re looking for.”

It sounded like he was trying to usher them back to the ship they’d arrived in. I could well envision the amused head-shaking taking place in each Jedi’s mind.

“You don’t mind if we take a look first, do you?” Anakin asked. “We’ll just scan the ship’s tags to ensure they don’t match the stolen freighter’s. We’d hate for you to be wrongly implicated in a theft that happened on Nightsister territory.”

As always, Hondo hid his disappointed annoyance well. He must really want to avoid conflict with the Nightsisters. “Ah, well, if you insist. Truthfully, my men only just discovered it drifting in space. We were just about to search up its ownership records when you arrived.”

I heard a faint ding, then Anakin announced that it was indeed the stolen freighter.

“Take it away, take it away,” Hondo said, probably waving his arms as well. “I have no use for a freighter here, stolen or otherwise. I am happy to return it to its rightful owners.”

I could almost feel Obi-Wan’s eyebrow quirk upward. “There didn’t happen to be anyone onboard when you found it, did there?”

“Ah! Actually, there was—a human woman, very drunk. Could be your thief, though I don’t know how such a person could steal an entire ship from a Master Jedi.” He snapped his fingers. “Bring me the stowaway! Far be it from me to get in the way of justice, gentlemen. Ach, hurry it up! So difficult to get good help these days.”

A couple of Weequays hoisted me up by the arms and dragged me outside to join everyone. I cringed away from the sunlight and didn’t get a good glimpse of the Jedi, but I was sure they could sense that I wasn’t really inebriated at all. I recognized the ship they’d arrived in: the Twilight, that Rigger -class freighter that Anakin and Ahsoka had first stolen in the 2008 Clone Wars film. Thankfully, it had been fixed up since that movie.

Obi-Wan hummed in thought. “We have other leads on the missing thief, but we’ll bring her with us. She may be able to shed some light on the situation.”

“When she’s sober,” Anakin said. Lol, this guy.

Hondo ordered his men to get the VCX-100 ready for the Jedi, doing his usual thing of pretending to be totally hospitable and compliant while actually being annoyed at losing both his ship and his entertainer. Fortunately, the pirates hadn’t removed R3 from the ship yet, so Hondo couldn’t get away with keeping even him. At last, Anakin programmed the mech to take the freighter home, and then he and Obi-Wan brought me aboard the Twilight.

Once the doors closed behind us, I straightened up and fixed my clothes and hair. “Sorry about the smell,” I said. “Ugh, I hate alcohol. Thanks for the pickup.”

“Who are you?” Anakin asked. (Good idea—if they’d asked “Are you Katie?” I could just say yes, whether or not it was true.)

“I’m Katie,” I told them. “How much did Plo and Fisto tell you?”

Obi-Wan folded his arms. “Enough that I’m surprised you didn’t actually try to disappear into the Coruscant underworld.”

I laughed. “Oh, trust me, I know how dangerous it is to get on Mother Talzin’s bad side. But I’ve got too much work to do to just go into hiding.”

“You don’t seem to mind this situation,” Anakin noted. “For all you know, we could just be taking you to Coruscant to arrest you.”

I shrugged. “There are worse fates—like being Ventress’s evil slave. Blech. Besides, I need to talk to the Jedi Council.”

R2-D2 had already gotten the ship into hyperspace while we talked, and we made our way to the cockpit now.

“About your purported knowledge of the future?” Obi-Wan asked. He settled into one of the pilots’ seats and swiveled it around. “Care to explain how you acquired such sensitive information?”

I couldn’t help chuckling a little. “Oh, I know way more than just Lola Sayu, but don’t worry; no one snitched to me. I could say I had a vision, but you’d know I was lying. Full disclosure, though: I’m gonna sound insane.”

Anakin sat in the other copilot chair and gestured to one of the passenger seats behind it. “Go on.”

Settling into the indicated seat, I told them how I was from another galaxy and had inexplicably woken up on Dathomir just before Fisto and Koon arrived. I told them how on my world, there were movies, shows, games, and books about their galaxy, especially about Anakin’s life. Naturally, they didn’t want to believe me, but they couldn’t deny that my emotional signature resonating through the Force felt sincere.

“I know you don’t really believe me,” I said, “but be that as it may, I need to talk to the Jedi Council. There are some things they really need to know.”

“Such as?” Obi-Wan asked.

I hesitated, glancing around the ship as sudden paranoia bubbled up. There was little chance that it was bugged or anything, but I knew that Palpatine somehow always got information he shouldn’t possess, often from the Jedi themselves, so I thought it best to be vague until we were someplace more secure. “I can’t say yet, but it has to do with Sidious,” I said. I swallowed. “And if word of that gets out to literally anyone, even people you trust, I’ll probably be assassinated before I can tell you everything.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “You must understand, we cannot just take you at your word. We are at war, and the Council can’t be spared to address every false trail.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Not a false trail. I can share some info that might convince you I’m telling the truth, but we’ll have to get real personal. Are you okay with that?”

They glanced at each other, then nodded.

“Are you sure?”

More nods. I had a feeling that Anakin at least was about to seriously regret that.

“All right, then,” I said. I folded my arms. “Obi-Wan would’ve left the Order for Satine, and Anakin’s married to Padmé.”

The amount of shock that propelled them both to their feet then was honestly comical.

“How do you know that?” Anakin demanded.

“S-so it’s true?” Obi-Wan cried.

“No, I—o-of course it’s not—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Me?” Anakin said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Obi-Wan grabbed his arm. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m avoiding the question?” Anakin repeated. “When were you gonna tell me about you and the duchess?”

“But you’re married. When did this happen?”

“It didn’t happen, I’m telling you it—”

“Right after the start of the Clone Wars,” I said, “on Naboo.”

Anakin rounded on me. “Stop that!”

I raised my hands. “Sorry, sorry. I did warn you. But you see, I do know things I shouldn’t be able to know. The only others aware of Anakin’s marriage are R2 and 3PO—and Palpatine, if you’ve told him yet. You really gotta stop telling him things.” I paused. “I shouldn’t have said that. Actually, you know what? I absolutely should’ve. Stop trusting Palpatine—that’s literally the worst possible thing you can do. I’ll explain more to the Jedi Council. And Obi-Wan? Don’t you dare start any drama about this marriage, okay? I know it’s against the Code, but deal with it after the war’s over, or you will be so sorry.”

It took a little more convincing and placation, but I finally got them to calm down and sit back in their chairs.

“Stop worrying, Anakin,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone else. Haven’t even been around long enough for that.”

He was flushed and fidgeting now, his expression a mixture of worry, relief, embarrassment, and shame as he avoided his old master’s eyes.

Obi-Wan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Anakin stared at his lap. “I didn’t think you’d understand. I thought you’d bring it to the Council and they’d—expel me from the Jedi Order. But the Order is the only family I have left.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, fiddling with my bandages. “I really didn’t want to upset you, but it was the surest way to convince you that I’m telling the truth. I need you to believe that, or you’re never gonna believe the things I have to say.”

We dropped out of hyperspace, and R2 beeped something to us, probably “We’re here.” The planet of Coruscant lay ahead, one enormous glittering city floating in space. Soooo much was about to go down. Back on Florrum, I’d begun to worry a little that my knowledge would never reach the Jedi—that the Star Wars canon would prevail, and my efforts would be wasted. The Nightsisters might find the Nightbrothers and force them back onto Dathomir. Sidious had many allies and resources, so it would be easy for him to get rid of me. I might die here without changing anything at all.

But Obi-Wan knew about Anakin’s wife. That wasn’t Star Wars canon. And so far, the Nightbrothers were still safely hidden. I didn’t want to let myself hope too much, but... maybe I really could save people.

Chapter Text

We landed at the Jedi temple. At my insistence, we went straight inside to the Council chambers without stopping to talk to anyone or (heaven forbid) report to Palpatine. Maybe I should get my hand looked at again, but it could wait a little longer. Obi-Wan had called ahead of time to bring the Council together, somehow getting a fair number of them to come despite not telling them what for. I guess my info about him and Anakin had really convinced him to trust me, haha. Those two kept asking me what else I knew, but once I’d insisted enough times that I wouldn’t say more until we were with the Council, they left me alone to prepare my speech (read: rant) for everyone. However, they couldn’t stop giving me side glances, wondering what else I might know. Oh man, they had no idea.

Masters Yoda, Windu, and Tiin were waiting in the Council chambers in person, with Masters Mundi, Billaba, Gallia, and Koon present as holograms. (I hadn’t realized until that moment that of course Gallia would still be alive; Maul and Savage weren’t around to kill her, and anyway that would’ve been in the future sometime.) Hardly the entire Council, but it was about the turnout I’d expected given the war going on. While Obi-Wan took his seat, Anakin and I remained standing in the center of the room. (He wouldn’t become part of the Council until after Padmé became pregnant.)

Plo Koon’s digital blue image smiled at me. “I trust that the Nightbrothers are well?” he asked me.

“Safe in an abandoned settlement on Iridonia,” I reported. “It’ll take some adjustment, but I’m sure they’ll learn to love their new home away from slavery. Thank you for helping me.”

Yoda studied me for a moment before noting, “Much to say, you have.”

I nodded. “Before we begin, though—those of you joining via hologram: you are alone, right? No bugs, no people in the room with you, no droids even? I know you trust your soldiers, but I will only speak in total secrecy.”

There was some shuffling and whispering as any companions were sent away, and then the physically-absent Jedi answered in the affirmative.

Noticing some slight movement in one of the holograms, I raised an eyebrow. “Master Billaba, Caleb’s right behind you.”

As the woman turned in surprise, the padawan Caleb Dume groaned and crawled out from his hiding place. Master Billaba sent him away with a stern look. She should’ve been able to sense him there, but I guessed she had a lot on her mind. They all did, even without what I was about to dump on them.

Master Windu leaned forward in his seat. “Obi-Wan says you have information regarding Darth Sidious,” he said.

“I know who he is and what his plans are,” I replied, “plus other important details about the future. But first, I need to make myself abundantly clear: you are going to be overwhelmed, and you are going to disbelieve me—especially you, Anakin. Keep the interruptions to a minimum, or we’ll be wasting time. I’m lookin’ at you, Windu—no frustrated outbursts. Can I begin?”

They nodded for me to proceed.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered. I knew if I told them right away that Palpatine was Sidious, they wouldn’t believe me, so I’d decided to do a little buildup first. “Darth Sidious’s goal is to destroy the Jedi and rule over the entire galaxy, and if you stay on your current path, he’s gonna succeed. He’s been manipulating politics, business, black market, and the Jedi Order for years already. Don’t look so surprised—he uses your own ideals against you. Obi-Wan, Dooku wasn’t lying when he said the Sith control the Senate; Sidious can only obtain his goals from a position of high power. He controls the Republic, and his apprentice Dooku controls the Confederacy. They’re working in tandem to ensure the war continues long enough to cripple the galaxy; that will make it so when Sidious declares himself emperor, everyone will be too tired and broken to fight back.”

“The Jedi will never allow a Sith lord to rule the galaxy,” Windu contended.

I rolled my eyes at his interruption. “Ninety-nine percent of you will be dead before that happens. Sidious and Dooku knew about Sifo-Dyas’s clones before you did, and they made sure that every clone was engineered with an inhibitor chip in their brain that contained a programmed order to kill all Jedi. The clones don’t know, and they can’t control it. ARC trooper Fives will figure it out in a couple months, but he’ll die soon afterward with no one believing him—Palpatine will make sure of that.”

“Palpatine?” Anakin repeated in alarm.

I nodded. “Told you you wouldn’t believe me. Darth Sidious is Chancellor Palpatine. He—I said no interruptions—he manipulated Padmé into proposing a vote of no confidence in Valorum, manipulated the Senate into electing him as chancellor, and manipulated Jar Jar into proposing he receive emergency wartime powers. I know you trust him, Anakin, but he’s been grooming you for a long time. He sees your power and potential and wants you on his side.”

He wasn’t the only one who looked troubled. Every single Councilmember was shifting uncomfortably in their seat, and scowls and chin-rubbing abounded.

“Palpatine is working alongside the Jedi to end the war,” Windu said. “What proof do you have of such a wild accusation?”

I sighed. “Windu, you are a great Jedi Master deserving of great respect. Shut the heck up before you doom the entire galaxy. Has Mina Bonteri died yet? She’s a Separatist senator.”

Still frowning, Obi-Wan nodded.

“She and Senator Amidala were working toward cessation of conflict, remember? Both sides agreed to work out a peace treaty, but that wasn’t in Palpatine’s favor, so he had Dooku arrange an attack on Coruscant’s power grid to change the Republic’s mind. When Padmé told him that she and Bonteri had organized the treaty, Palpatine had them specifically targeted by thugs and bounty hunters, which made the Separatists angry, too. Palpatine was the only person Padmé told about Bonteri, and therefore the only one who would’ve known to target her.”

“These are still just accusations,” Anakin said. “You don’t have any proof.”

I sighed again. I didn’t know why I’d expected them not to interrupt me. “You won’t find any proof,” I admitted. “He’s very meticulous about his plans and does everything to avoid loose ends. Like—when Yaddle found out about his and Dooku’s plans, so he had her killed. Or when you and Ahsoka rescued those younglings on Mustafar, but Sidious had the facility destroyed before you could learn what it was for. (He wanted to turn them into Dark Side slaves, by the way, to use as spies.) Or when y’all were about to capture the Malevolence, so Palpatine sent Padmé to Grievous to ensure you’d stop the attack. See, very meticulous.

“That’s why I asked for total secrecy in coming here—because as supreme chancellor, Palpatine has eyes and ears everywhere, and he’d want me killed before I could tell you all this. Oh, it might look like an accident, but it wouldn’t be. Besides, Anakin, you already know I’m privy to information I couldn’t possibly have.”

Anakin scowled and looked away. “He’s a good man....”

“He’s a good liar,” I corrected. “Most of what he does is either to keep the war going or to manipulate you. Sometimes both, like sending Padmé to the Malevolence. He even orchestrates his own kidnappings to ensure he remains a victim in your eyes.”

“Tell us more about these inhibitor chips,” Koon said. “Are the clones in danger?”

I pursed my lips. “Not sure how to answer that exactly,” I admitted. “For now, they’re fine—except Tup from the 501st; his chip is corrupted and will make him kill Master Tiplar if you don’t get it out. Once the order is activated, the clones will entirely lose control of their bodies and become mindless slaves. It’s genius, really: turn your own army against you. The Jedi will be caught by surprise, and even those who manage to fight back will care too much to harm the clones, so they’ll die.”

I pointed at Ki-Adi Mundi. “You’ll be gunned down on Mygeeto. Master Plo, your fighter will be shot down on Cato Neimoidia. Billaba, you die on Kaller, but Caleb barely escapes. Windu and Tiin, you’ll both die at Palpatine’s hand when you confront him about being a Sith lord; Masters Kolar and Fisto die with you. Yoda will be attacked by clones on Kashyyyk but survive. Master Gallia, you were actually supposed to die before Order 66, but that probably won’t happen anymore with the Nightbrothers gone, so I suppose the clones will get you, too. You’ll survive, Obi-Wan, but you’ll go through some nasty trauma first.” I hesitated when I turned to Anakin. “Anakin, you... you won’t be with the clones when it happens, but Ahsoka will.”

I couldn’t tell him his own future. The last time he’d been told what he’d become—when the Son had shown him on Mortis—it had freaked him out so badly that he’d joined the Dark Side early just to go kill Sidious. Even now, hearing that Ahsoka would be attacked by the clones was making him look pretty upset.

“Mm,” Yoda said worriedly, his wrinkled brow even more furrowed than usual. “Sincere, she is.”

“How exactly do you know all this?” Gallia asked.

I repeated the explanation I’d given to Obi-Wan and Anakin—that is, the truth—with much the same result. In response to their disbelieving expressions and shared glances, I shrugged. “I’m fully aware that it sounds ridiculous,” I said. “But if I was lying, I would’ve made it much more believable, like claiming I’d had a vision or something.”

Masters Mundi and Billaba both nodded. “Oddly enough,” Mundi admitted, “that does make sense.”

“Troubling, this is,” Yoda said.

“Please don’t blame the clones,” I begged. “They love their Jedi. They’d never betray you if they had any choice at all.” I paused. “Okay, except on Umbara, but that’s a unique case. Pong Krell is falling to the Dark Side and plans to become Dooku’s apprentice. Eventually, there will be battling on Umbara, during which Anakin will be called away and have to leave his troops in Krell’s charge. Krell will try to kill as much of the 501st as possible to bring about a Separatist victory, as a gift to win Dooku’s favor.” In spite of myself, I shivered. I hated those episodes. “He’ll only be stopped when Rex organizes a mutiny to save his men’s lives.

“Oh! Also, there’s a clone commando stuck on Abafar—Captain Gregor. CC-557... 6? He survived Sarrish but lost his memory, so he doesn’t know to call for pickup. And y’all really need to check up on Barriss Offee: she’s gonna fall in with a really bad crowd, if she hasn’t already, and end up bombing the Jedi temple. The explosion will kill a lot of people, and Barriss will murder even more to cover her involvement and frame Ahsoka instead. And if Ventress isn’t around to help Ahsoka find the truth, then Ahsoka might be executed by a Republic tribunal.”

“Executed?” Anakin repeated in alarm. “Ventress helps her?”

“Oh yeah. Eventually, Dooku’s gonna betray Ventress and try to blow her up, but she’ll escape and end up becoming a bounty hunter to survive. She helps Ahsoka because she understands what it’s like to have nowhere to turn. Her story is one of the reasons I relocated the Nightbrothers, cuz after she survives the explosion, she and Mother Talzin work out a revenge plot involving turning one of the Nightbrothers into an assassin to kill Dooku. Like I said on Dathomir, Savage would’ve gotten brainwashed and mutilated by their magick, and he would’ve killed a lot of people before finding his brother Maul and then killing even more people.”

Obi-Wan sat up straighter. “Maul is dead,” he said. “I killed him myself.”

“You chopped him in half, yeah, but he used Nightsister magicks and the Dark Side to keep himself alive. He’s on a junkyard planet now—not Bracca, can’t remember what it’s called—Lotho Minor?—and he’s gone totally insane. Built himself new legs, though, and they’re creepy. He really, really hates you, Obi-Wan. But since Savage isn’t on Dathomir anymore, Ventress can’t use him as an assassin, and Talzin can’t send him to locate Maul, so theoretically, you don’t have to worry about Maul right now. First, you’d better worry about how you’re gonna get the inhibitor chips out of every clone in the army without the chancellor finding out. And don’t ask the Kaminoans for help, cuz they’ll just report to Palpatine.”

I allowed them a few minutes to deliberate amongst themselves and decide how best to proceed. This was a lot of information to take in, and if it was true, then it would be very difficult to move forward without enabling Palpatine’s schemes. They’d have to continue working with him while knowing he was evil, and never let on that they knew. That would be especially difficult for Anakin, who 1) couldn’t always hide it when he hated someone, especially if that person was Force-sensitive and could feel his dislike, and 2) would have to either keep spending one-on-one time with Palpatine, or else invent an excuse to discontinue their private meetings without arousing the man’s suspicion.

In the end, though, it became clear that the Council would not act on my information unless they had solid proof that what I’d told them was true. Valid, valid. It would be a huge leap of faith, and in this time of war and uncertainty, they couldn’t afford to divert time or resources to such a big thing if it wasn’t proven fact.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “How about a test, then?” I suggested. “Tell Palpatine that I’m a civilian claiming to know vital information about Sidious’s identity, and that I’ll bring it to the Council tomorrow afternoon. Tell him where I’ll be staying, too. At that point, only he and Mother Talzin would have reason to want me out of the way, except Talzin hasn’t worked out my involvement on Dathomir yet. Therefore, you’ll know I’m telling the truth when someone finds me dead.”

Chapter Text

I half-expected the Jedi Council to reject my suggestion as risky or ridiculous, but they simply mulled it over and then declared it a clever idea. Should I be offended by that? They did, however, make an amendment that I’d have a droid in a hooded cloak serve as my body double, which I supposed was comforting. If I was right, and Palpatine did arrange my death, then he’d want it to look like an accident so it couldn’t possibly be traced back to him. This was good for us, since it meant that whatever thug or bounty hunter he hired probably wouldn’t get too close, meaning the droid wouldn’t be recognized as nonliving. (A convincing accident would be a runaway speeder, a train crash, a gas leak, a mugging in a dark alley, etc—something that probably wouldn’t involve the killer being close enough to see the droid’s non-sentient face.)

While Obi-Wan went to make this false report to the chancellor, Anakin took me to get my hand stitched, then he found me a hooded cloak and a droid about my height. Afterward, he escorted me to the hotel where we were claiming I’d stay. I’d check in face-to-face with the hotel manager, then subtly switch with the droid and have her go up to the room instead of me. If anyone observed the swap, Anakin would mind-trick them to forget it. That way, if and when any thugs or bounty hunters came asking about me, the manager would remember a living woman checking in and going up to her room. Just in case, Anakin would be in disguise, so no one at the hotel would report seeing a Jedi around me (as that would compromise the mission and make Palpatine suspect I’d already spoken to the Jedi).

Anakin looked distracted as we got into a speeder to head to the hotel, with the deactivated droid in the backseat under a cover. This must be hard for him, having to suspect a close mentor and friend of being a Sith lord. Palpatine had been there for him right after he lost his father figure Qui-Gon, and the guy was incredibly skilled at seeming kind and caring. Poor Anakin just had so much crap in his life.

“I know something that might cheer you up,” I said. “Well, mostly. This wasn’t something the whole Council needed to know, so I didn’t bring it up back there.”

He kept his eyes trained on the lane in front of him. “What?” he asked.

“Echo’s not dead.”

“What?”

We switched into another lane to head to a lower level of the city.

“After the shuttle explosion on Lola Sayu,” I said, “he was given to the Techno Union, who turned him into a cyborg to repair his injuries. He’s got more cyber-limbs than you now. I’m not actually sure where he is right this moment, just that eventually he’ll be held in a facility on Skako Minor, if he isn’t already.”

Anakin’s grip tightened on the steering. “You’re sure?”

“Rex would’ve figured it out on his own in a few months,” I admitted, “when the battles on Anaxes started reminding him of his and Echo’s old playbook. Since Echo’s a good strategist, the Seppies will have his mind plugged into their computers like a predictive algorithm. You’ll wanna bring in Clone Force 99 to rescue him.”

Anakin pressed his lips together. “The fighting on Anaxes... has gotten harder. Recently—beginning soon after Lola Sayu. We assumed they’d brought in more tactical droids.”

“It’s Echo,” I said. “If you don’t believe me, look for the algorithm in the Cyber Center on Anaxes first; it’s a live signal from Skako and will identify itself as CT-1409. Oh, also Admiral Trench is in charge of Anaxes, although he’s a cyborg spider now after you blew him up that one time.”

Anakin scowled. “I never did like that guy.”

“Me neither.”

As the bright afternoon skies grew farther and farther away, we turned down a side street near our destination.

“I’d really love it if you could rescue Echo,” I said. “He’s a good man, plus no one deserves to have their mind violated like that.” I hugged myself, thinking of Order 66. “Used for the enemy’s purposes without their consent. All those poor clones...”

Anakin turned to study me. “You really just want to save people?”

I nodded. “As many as I can before Palpatine gets me. Echo, Fives, Tup, Hardcase, Gregor, Tiplar, the Jedi, Savage, Feral, Satine, Waxer... Jesse...” I hesitated. “You.”

“Me?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together. “What happens to me?”

I slumped down in my seat a little. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

We parked around the corner from the hotel, but his voice hardened a little with worry, and he turned to me. “Katie, what happens to me?”

Should I tell him? He had a tendency to act on emotions, and this would definitely cause some negative feelings. I obviously couldn’t mention Padmé’s death, and I couldn’t tell everything, but he’d keep asking me until I gave him something. And we were alone, so...

I sighed. “I told you, Sidious wins. You become his apprentice.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry,” I said with a weary smile. “I’ll do what I can to prevent it. The fact that you know now is already a huge step. But for now, I’ve got a hotel to check into.”

I headed into the hotel with a handful of credits the Jedi had given me (I didn’t exactly have my own money) and booked a room with the manager. Meanwhile, Anakin activated the droid and gave her her orders. Once the hotel lobby was clear and we were sure there were no people or cameras watching, Anakin distracted the manager while the droid and I swapped places. The manager looked back just in time to see the droid disappearing upstairs with my cloak on, while I had snuck out to the speeder and hidden under the cover. After a minute, Anakin returned, fired up the engines, and flew us away.

Now, we just had to sit tight until someone tried to kill me.

We didn’t have to wait long. Anakin had brought me to Padmé’s for the night, but we’d scarcely gotten through dinner when the droid commed to tell us that she’d detected a deadly gas leak in my hotel room. Anakin instructed her to wait there and play dead until Windu and Obi-Wan arrived. (He couldn’t go himself in case the hotel manager remembered his face.)

Windu and Kenobi showed up at the hotel in full Jedi attire, asked to see me, and were sent up to my room. After covering up the droid to look like a shrouded corpse, they called the manager in a panic. The droid had inspected the room as soon as she arrived, so we knew that the gas lines were fine and the leak couldn’t be an accident. While the Jedi carried “my” body away—still shrouded, so no one knew it was a droid—they had a hotel droid inspect the room for signs of break-in or poisoning. The hotel droid, of course, found the gas leak, which had affected my room and two others. (Thankfully, the other two were unoccupied, so “I” was the only casualty.) Since it wasn’t just my room affected, the death was labeled an unfortunate accident.

Obi-Wan commed to fill us in on the rest of the details. Tomorrow, Chancellor Palpatine would be informed that, unfortunately, I had chosen a crappy hotel to stay in, and a common gas leak had killed me. At least my “passing” had been painless.

And just like that, the Jedi Council knew that Palpatine was a Sith lord, and Palpatine still thought that all was well.

As Obi-Wan’s description of events came to a close and he ended his transmission, Anakin sank back in his seat, numb and lifeless. All Padmé knew so far was that someone wanted me dead, and she and the Jedi were protecting me by helping me fake my death. (She and I got along great, btw, especially considering I was an uninvited guest that the Jedi had just dumped on her a few hours ago.) It worried her that her husband still seemed so troubled.

“Anakin?” she asked. “What is it?”

He was shaking his head and staring into space. He didn’t answer.

I cast him a sympathetic look. “I told the Council that tomorrow, I’d give them information about the Sith lord Sidious,” I told Padmé softly. “Only one other person knew that, and knew where I’d be staying.”

“Palpatine,” Anakin whispered. He buried his face in his hands. “It’s true. Chancellor Palpatine really is a Sith lord.”

Padmé laughed a little, but it wasn’t sincere. “That’s ridiculous. He’s worked hard for years to protect the galaxy.”

“He’s the only Republic person who knew that Mina Bonteri was behind the peace treaty,” I said. “He ordered her assassination so the Separatists wouldn’t want to sign.”

Padmé went pale.

“The Council already knows,” I went on, still quiet, “but other than them, it’s just you. You can’t tell anyone, Padmé, or even let on that you suspect. I really shouldn’t have told you, I just figure you can help us slow his power-gain from within the Senate. But I’m serious—you can never let Palpatine find out you know, cuz if you know, then he’ll realize your husband does, too.”

“M-my...” she stammered, her eyes widening.

I gave her a little smile. “I know things I shouldn’t,” I said. “That’s why I’m valuable.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said in exasperation, “and now Obi-Wan knows, too.”

I held up a finger. “Notice how he didn’t tell the Council? You can trust him. In fact, you really, really need to trust him.”

Padmé sat back with a hand to her forehead. As with everyone else, it would take her time to process all of this. But in spite of the overwhelm, I could see that some part of her was relieved that their marriage wasn’t quite so secret now.

Now that the Council believed me, they agreed that I’d have to be kept secret somewhere, like witness protection. But where? Given how sensitive the info I possessed was, I couldn’t just rent a room somewhere; I needed to be safe, and anyway I was supposed to be dead. I couldn’t exactly live in the Jedi temple—all their doors were Force-operated, plus wasn’t it kind of a given that only Jedi could live there? Maybe if I stayed with Padmé long-term... but that was still risky, cuz anyone could accidentally see me there through all those freaking huge windows, plus how would the Jedi Council contact me? Anyone could tap our comms. And, Anakin and I both didn’t want to put her in deeper danger like that. Was I just being too paranoid? Oh, screw it—when dealing with Palpatine, one couldn’t be too paranoid.

In the end, I didn’t have to worry. I was granted special permission to stay in the Jedi temple, and they gave me a special door key so I could still open the doors. (That would be kinda awkward if I got stuck inside my own room cuz I couldn’t use the Force door, lol.) This way, the Council could keep a close eye on me, and I’d be far safer than if I were living anywhere else. If anyone asked, I was Arina Salvo, child of the recently-deceased Jedi Master Astasi Salvo. (Whom I just made up. Cuz I can do that. Mwahahaha.) Master Salvo had been known for his rather loose adherence to the Jedi Code, so it would be no great surprise to learn that he’d had a secret wife and child. (The Council didn’t want to smear his name posthumously like this, but I needed a believable alter ego, and Yoda felt that Astasi would’ve been okay with it.)

My cover story was that I was only vaguely Force-sensitive, but Salvo’s dying wish had been for me to live in the temple since my mother was also dead. Anytime I was in a private meeting with the Councilors, it would be under the guise of private Jedi tutoring, since I had less Force ability than others and would learn at a different pace. Ta-da! I’d still mostly keep to myself, but I was free to wander the temple under my new identity. (It would be more suspicious if I didn’t show my face now and again. I could just spend my time in a quiet corner of the library, or sitting by the Great Tree. Luckily for me, just as I was somehow able to speak Basic, I could also read it.)

Y’know, even if I had possessed the Force, I doubted I could have foreseen that this would be my life. Faking my death, wandering the halls of the Jedi temple, advising the Council itself on war efforts and inner politics. Pretending to ignore the constant danger and fear that came from being the only thing standing between Darth Sidious and his goals.

Well, this would be... fun?

Chapter Text

The Council had to move forward carefully now, first to alert the rest of the Councilmembers to the situation, and then to act on the information I’d given them. It would be difficult to accomplish anything without arousing Palpatine’s suspicion, so some things were done with painful slowness. Since I wasn’t present for all Council meetings, I only knew some of what was going on: Krell would be investigated and probably detained, assuming he had fallen to the Dark Side by this point; if he hadn’t, they’d continue to monitor him closely until he did. A clone squad was dispatched to Abafar to bring Gregor home (which this time happened without the explosions and extra brain damage). Tup’s chip would be removed within the next few days, with the excuse that a medical droid had detected a tumor in his brain and he needed immediate surgery. It would not be reported to the chancellor or the Kaminoans, having been deemed “not important enough to bother them with.” And, since it was getting removed long before the corruption grew too serious, we had high hopes that Tup would survive the procedure.

Also, Anakin had informed Rex of Echo’s potentially still being alive, and they had indeed infiltrated the Anaxes Cyber Center with Fives and the Bad Batch to confirm it. Now, they just had to rescue Echo. He was already on Skako Minor, so I expected the mission would go about the way it had in the TV show. Probably. I hoped.

I was nervous the whole day that Anakin and the boys were on Skako. What if things went differently this time, and someone got hurt or killed? What if bringing Fives along somehow screwed things up instead of helping? There was every chance that he and Crosshair, both so passionate, would end up arguing and maybe fighting. What if there were more clankers on Skako now than there would be later, and they got overwhelmed?

I got permission from the Council to be there at the Republic’s Anaxes base when the group returned, and Obi-Wan and I went out onto the landing pad to wait. Sensing my nervousness, Kenobi sighed and gave me a gentle smirk.

“Don’t you already know how the mission turned out?” he asked.

I fidgeted with my bandages inside the long sleeves of my Jedi cloak. “It’s happening sooner than before,” I muttered. “Plus, Fives is with them, and he wasn’t for the original storyline. Just cuz I know how it was without my involvement doesn’t mean it’ll be the same now.”

“I see your point. But don’t worry: Anakin’s last report sounded fairly optimistic.”

I nodded against my anxieties, then turned at the familiar sound of the Marauder approaching. As the ship’s arrival was announced over the base’s loudspeaker, Tech brought them in for one of his expert and Skywalker-esque landings. Then, the door opened, and they disembarked.

I wasn’t expecting to get emotional when I saw their faces, so the thickness in my throat surprised me. Echo was safe, and the group was all still alive to tell the tale. Fives had an arm around his brother, probably more for himself than for any need to support the cyborg clone, who was much more stable on his feet now. Rex looked so happy.

While the Jedi started talking, with Anakin giving the full mission report, I drank in the sight of the boys I’d grown so fond of. They were here—they were all really here. I’d always loved the clones, and now... oh gosh. They were safe and alive. Echo hadn’t had to undergo months of tortured slavery. He was here. My boys were okay.

Anakin paused his report to raise an eyebrow at me. “You all right?”

I blushed, realizing I’d been staring, and tore my gaze away from the clones. Once I’d dislodged the lump in my throat, I beamed up at him. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Am I... missing something?” Hunter asked.

Crap. I wasn’t supposed to draw attention to myself. Um...

Anakin smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. “Arina’s the one who had the vision about Echo being alive. We wouldn’t have discovered him without her help.”

“Anakin...” I grumbled. I wasn’t supposed to have much Force ability, and I wasn’t supposed to be credited with anything important. This guy...

I caught a flash of annoyance in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but he masked it well. Too late to go back now. “It’s true,” he said. “She’s been very concerned for your safety.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Echo said. He looked so weary, but he was trying to cover it up in front of the generals. And he was so sincere, his gold-brown eyes desperately grateful.

I flushed again. “It’s nothing.”

“No, he’s right,” Fives said. “Who knows how long he would’ve been trapped there if you hadn’t come along? We owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” I insisted, shaking my head. “I’m just glad you’re okay. All of you.” I cast a glance past them to the Bad Batch, who seemed a little surprised that someone they didn’t even know cared about their fate.

Fives led Echo away to receive medical care, and I watched them go. I wondered if Echo would still join Clone Force 99 after the Battle of Anaxes, or if he would opt to stay with Fives this time. I knew he loved his brother and would feel bad about leaving him again so soon. What if the Bad Batch stayed a family of four?

Heck. If we succeeded in stopping the Empire from being born, then Omega might never join them, either. Might never even meet them again. I couldn’t just let that happen. She needed her brothers.

As Anakin resumed his report to Obi-Wan and the Bad Batch talked amongst themselves, Rex came over to me. “It’s really not nothing, you know,” he said. “Maybe he is just a clone, but to have even one of our brothers back, it’s...”

I sighed. “I know, Rex. I just really don’t want the credit for this. Anakin shouldn’t have mentioned me.”

“Well, I’m glad he did. Thank you, General.”

“Oh, I’m not a general,” I said, scratching my neck. “I just live at the temple and study. You guys are the real heroes.” I paused, detecting Hunter’s still presence several feet away, definitely not engaging with his squad. Smiling, I continued just as quietly, “That includes you, Hunter, even if you are eavesdropping. You boys are pretty amazing.”

Hunter glanced up at me, and Rex chuckled.

I ached to stay and chat, to form real bonds with the men that I had come to care so much about, but I knew that wouldn’t be wise. They didn’t know me like I knew them, and they shouldn’t. I was meant to be invisible. For their safety—for the safety of everyone I knew and loved in this galaxy—I couldn’t draw attention to myself. I couldn’t make friends or stick around to talk for hours. I couldn’t endanger them through association with me.

So, biting back a frown, I left. It was better this way. Safer. And it wasn’t like they’d want to be friends with me in real life, anyway. If I were a better liar, maybe I could even convince myself that that didn’t hurt.

Still, I insisted on sticking around at the base while Echo got fixed up, which the Council only allowed because they felt indebted to me after everything I’d told them. I just wanted to see with my own eyes that he was on the mend both physically and mentally. As usual, I was there under the guise of receiving training from a Councilmember (Obi-Wan), plus gaining mild battlefield experience in the war room.

A couple days later, Echo presented his plan to help the Republic take back Anaxes, and I again had to sit around until their return. Man, this waiting was hard. I even knew how it would (probably) turn out, but I hated having to just sit here and do nothing, especially as this was a military base, and literally everyone else here had a job to do. Oh well. At least I wasn’t getting another lecture from Madame Jocasta. (I like information just fine, but that librarian seemed to think it was her duty to fill my head with every bit of Jedi lore single-handedly. It was exhausting.)

At last, the Jedi and clones returned from the battlefield, and I joined everyone on the landing pad to welcome them back safely. I was so relieved to see everyone alive and in good spirits that I started talking before I could stop myself.

“So,” I said to Echo, “how’s it feel to get electrocuted?”

He chuckled tiredly. “Not as bad as getting blown up.”

“Hey, wait,” Wrecker said, “we didn’t even report yet. How’d you know about that?”

With a smirk, Fives nudged his arm. “Jedi, mate. You get used to it after a while.”

Once Obi-Wan and Windu had joined us, everyone made their full mission reports. As expected, aside from Fives’s presence, everything had gone the same as it had in the Clone Wars show, with Echo taking out all the clankers, Anakin killing Trench, and Wrecker blowing up the dreadnought. Anaxes was a victory!

The conversation took a turn toward the familiar as Obi-Wan commended the clones for their efforts and mentioned medals coming their way, and then we started back inside the base. Honestly, it took a lot of willpower not to turn around when Echo did and listen to Hunter inviting him to join the Bad Batch. I already knew what was going on, but the temptation to watch it unfold live in front of me was hard to resist.

When I felt Rex and Fives detach from the group behind me, though, I turned to observe them going back for Echo. They spoke with him for a moment, too quiet for me to hear. Then, to my relief and mild surprise, Echo went after Hunter’s squad.

Rex and Fives started back this way, but as the Marauder’s engines started up, they both stopped to watch it leave. There was a heaviness to their posture now, a bittersweet sadness. They’d only just gotten him back, and now he was leaving again.

Their pain hurt to see, and I couldn’t help myself. Biting my lip, I approached the lonely regs and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Don’t worry,” I said gently. “They’re gonna take good care of him.”

Fives laughed once, his fists clenched. “You get that from another vision?” he asked.

“Yes.”

They both turned to look at me.

“They’re a tight-knit group,” I said, nodding after the long-gone Marauder. “They wouldn’t have offered if they didn’t plan to love him like their own. He’ll be okay.” I patted their shoulders before turning away. “And so will you.”

So much of me wanted to stay with them instead of returning to Coruscant, regardless of how stupid that would be. I was supposed to stay under the radar, I didn’t have the Force (or really any self-defense skills), and I couldn’t even aim a blaster very accurately. But I loved the clones— my clones. Regs, Bad Batch, all of them. I wanted to hold them when they hurt, and save them from the dark, and promise them that everything would be okay.

I couldn’t promise that yet, but soon. Once we got the inhibitor chips out, very soon.

Chapter Text

A little over a week after I returned from Anaxes, I was allowed to leave Coruscant again for a simple errand. Not all members of the Jedi Council were in the loop yet, since we had to spread the information carefully enough that Palpatine wouldn’t notice, and one of those who had yet to learn the truth was Shaak Ti, who was still stationed on Kamino. As soon as I heard this, I volunteered to bring the info to her myself. Finally, a chance to possibly meet Omega!

So, I was sent in a one-person starfighter with a Jedi holocron containing the sensitive information I’d relayed to the Council weeks ago, as summed up by Master Yoda. Being a fake Jedi certainly had its perks; no one would question why I was visiting the cloning facilities. Yusssss. I’d flown in this fighter a couple of times before, mostly so I could get used to flying and be less likely to go mind-blank in case of emergency. Granted, I wasn’t piloting the ship myself: that was handled by my astromech, R4-P91.

Since I didn’t understand his binary language, my ADHD brain had a nasty habit of tuning it out when he spoke, which often meant he had to tap on the ship’s glass or my leg to get my attention. As a result, I had nicknamed him Rapper. From what I could understand of his beeping tones, he didn’t mind. He wasn’t quite as sassy as R2 or Chopper, but he was fun and reliable—and a bit of a worrier, to be honest—and I really appreciated having him around.

Miraculously, I happened to arrive on Kamino on a bright, sunny day, which was a pretty rare occurrence there. The Council had called ahead to let them know I was coming, so Nala Se was waiting for me at the landing pad. I was a bit surprised that it was her and not Taun We or some other lesser Kaminoan, but I didn’t mind. Leaving Rapper at the ship, I followed the chief scientist through the long white halls of Tipoca City until at last we reached the training grounds. Master Ti was overseeing a squad’s practice session when we arrived. Dang, she was pretty. Her and Ahsoka’s whole species was just so cool. Look at those long, beautiful lekku!

“Excuse me, Master Jedi,” Nala Se said, with the typical lilting slowness of the Kaminoans’ speech. “Your messenger has arrived.”

Shaak Ti turned to study me, and I had no doubt that she was confused to see Jedi robes on someone who definitely didn’t have a strong connection to the Force. She exited the balcony, leaving a couple of bounty hunters in charge of training while she spoke to me.

“And who might you be?” she asked.

“Arina Salvo,” I told her.

She raised an eyebrow marking. “Salvo?”

“Long story,” I replied. “If we both survive the war, I’ll tell it to you sometime. The Council asked me to bring you this.”

I handed the blue-and-silver cube to her.

“A holocron?” she said. “They want me to do research?”

“I guess,” I replied with a shrug. But I made sure to fill my thoughts with as much urgency as possible, and she definitely picked up on it. This was not research. She was smart enough to know that if the Council was sending a messenger with a holocron, rather than simply telling her via hologram what was going on, it meant that the information within that cube was top-secret.

“Thank you, Arina,” she said as she tucked the holocron into her sleeve. “You may tell the Council that I’ll get started on that at once.”

I nodded. She had no idea how overwhelmed she was about to be. To learn that the clones were programmed to kill Jedi, and still have to work with them every day... Oi. Her motherly concern was gonna go into overdrive.

As the Jedi Master took her leave of us and headed to her quarters, I turned to Nala Se. “You’re the chief scientist, correct? Your cloning operation is incredible! I’ve seen the clones in action, and I must admit, they are impressive.” I smiled, hoping I sounded innocently curious as I added, “Do you have any female clones? I mean, I know you cloned all of these from a man, but surely you’ve thought of it? I’m sure you’re talented enough to alter a clone’s gender.”

The woman hesitated just slightly. “There is one,” she admitted.

“Really?” My smile brightened. “Is she here? Or, has she already been deployed? I’d love to meet her, to see how she compares to the males.”

“She is still quite young,” Nala Se said, “and she was not intended to be a soldier.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Can we go see her?”

The scientist sighed, almost imperceptibly. “I will send for her.”

We waited for several minutes while Omega made her way through the tube system from Nala Se’s private lab, with me chatting about clones and science to pass the time and burn nervous energy. She was coming. I was really about to see my favorite clone kid. What was I doing? I shouldn’t be wasting time on this! Sure, I’d love to see her, but it wasn’t important. I shouldn’t be risking exposure just for a moment of fangirling. Except—this was Omega. The sweetest little clone child ever, and so lonely. So, really I was doing her a service by giving her someone to talk to.

Fine. Just a few minutes, then I’d leave.

At last, a familiar face peeked around the corner, and Omega stepped into view. “You wanted to see me?” she asked the scientist. She eyed me and my obviously Jedi attire. I wondered if she’d ever been this close to a Jedi before. Too bad I wasn’t a real one.

Nala Se gestured to me. “Omega, this is Jedi Knight Arina Salvo. She was very curious to meet you.”

“Me?” she said.

I didn’t actually even qualify as a padawan, let alone a knight, but I didn’t bother to correct her. “Hello, Omega,” I said, squatting down in front of the kid. “Oh, just look at you, honey. You must not get a whole lot of social interaction if you’re not training with the others, but I bet you know all about Tipoca City. Care to give me a tour?”

That. That was not what I was supposed to say. Heck, I was bad at this.

I got the sense that Nala Se didn’t appreciate my request, but before she could object, Omega lit up like a lighthouse. “Sure!” she said enthusiastically. “We can start right now, if you like.”

I nodded. Dang, how starved for freedom was she? It must’ve been ages since she’d last left the lab if she was this excited just to give a stranger a tour.

Omega and I started walking, giving Nala Se no choice but to follow or be left behind. I rather hoped for the latter, but the woman caught up in just a few strides. She might be slow, but she had very long legs. Ugh.

“The barracks for the clones are over that way,” Omega said, pointing, “and the armory’s on the other end. Most of the Kaminoans’ quarters are in another building, though. So’s the medical wing. And over there, that’s the mess hall. I usually eat by myself since the cadet squads fill up the other tables.”

Playing tour guide seemed to agree with her, as she felt warmer and happier with each passing minute. Then, she caught a glimpse of Nala Se following us, and her expression changed to one of contemplation. A spark of mischief filled her eyes.

“I’ve heard that Jedi can move pretty fast,” Omega said. “Is that true?”

I shrugged. “When they’re well trained, yeah, but I’m—”

“Race you!” she cried.

She took off running down the corridor. With a squeak, I dashed after her. My gosh, she was quick! Behind us, the surprised chief scientist faded into a distant shout; long legs or not, Kaminoans didn’t run. Ha—suck it, science lady! Omega and I careened down hallways and across skywalks, narrowly avoiding slamming into cadets and medical personnel as we flew. I laughed out loud; she felt so happy! In response, she looked back at me and grinned.

After a few more minutes of running, we stumbled to a stop on one of the many balconies in Tipoca City. Omega’s face was red from the exertion, and her brown eyes shone with delight.

“Nice job ditching the escort,” I gasped. “Where’d you learn to be such a troublemaker?”

She giggled, panting. “Well, I had to find something fun to do around here. And this balcony here is my favorite place in the whole city.”

“Oh?”

As she straightened the strands of beads she wore in her hair, she moved over to the edge of the balcony, eventually resting her forearms atop the railing. “On days when the sun’s out, I like to come up here and watch the light on the waves. It’s so peaceful and calm. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you can even watch the sunset before the clouds come back.”

I leaned my elbows onto the railing beside her and gazed out at the endless sea. “I bet with all the water particles in the air, those sunsets must be gorgeous.”

“Yeah.” She sighed, setting her chin on her arms. “I watch the ships come and go, too, but there are always more leaving than coming back. Everyone else gets to go but me.”

I frowned. “Why won’t Nala Se let you leave with the other cadets? I get that you’re not a soldier for whatever reason, but she could still allow you to go tour the Republic cruisers or something. Why keep you cooped up here all the time?”

“I dunno... I guess cuz I’m her medical assistant.”

“She got along just fine before you became her assistant,” I pointed out. “I’m sure she could spare you for a few days. What, is she scared of losing her favorite enhanced clone?”

Omega shrugged.

“Speaking of enhanced clones...” The corners of my lips turned up. “You might be interested to know that Clone Force 99 has a new member.”

She perked up. “Really? Who is it?”

“His name’s Echo,” I told her. “CT-1409—he’s a reg, not enhanced, but he’s got ARC trooper training and fits right in with them.”

“You said he’s a... reg?”

“Regular clone. The Bad Batchers call them regs.”

She smiled. “Regs,” she repeated softly.

“The Bad Batch rescued Echo from Separatist imprisonment about two weeks ago,” I said. “He’s a cyborg now and doesn’t really fit in with his old legion, so your brothers invited him to join them instead. I just wish you could’ve been there. I know how much you miss them.”

Her brow wrinkled, and she looked up at me. “Wait. How do you know that?”

I winked. “Now that, honey, is a Jedi secret.”

She chuckled. As she settled her chin back onto her forearms, she paused and pointed at my right hand. “How’d you get those?”

The wounds from Maim’s horns were healed enough by now that I no longer needed bandages on my hand. The scars were still tender sometimes, but I was doing a lot better. Still, I probably should have put on gloves or something; I couldn’t have someone working out that they’d come from Zabrak horns.

“Oh, nothing,” I said lightly. “Just clumsy.”

“Jedi can be clumsy?” she asked.

I laughed dryly. “When you’re me, absolutely. I’m not exactly strong in the Force.”

“I bet you love it, though,” she said. “Getting to travel through the stars and protect people all over the galaxy.”

“Oh, no, honey. The best way that I can protect the galaxy is by staying as far away from the action as possible.”

She giggled. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

Oh, but it was, and it was really, really starting to annoy me.

We talked up there for a while longer, but eventually, I knew it was time to go. Past time, in fact. Even a long visit to Kamino could prove risky if the wrong people heard about it, and the last thing I wanted was to put Omega in danger for merely knowing me. She led me back to Rapper and the fighter, looking just as sorry as I was to have to say goodbye. How long would it be before she had someone else to really talk to?

I groaned and put my hands on my hips. “Ugh. I’d take you with me if I could, but I think that might be considered kidnapping. Also, the fighter only has one seat.”

She grinned. “Maybe you could come back sometime? I’m sure I could get away from Nala Se again.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised. You know, like an idiot.

However, just as I was about to climb into my starfighter, a distant sound caught my attention. I felt Omega’s excitement spike, and then we both turned in surprise as none other than the Marauder descended toward the platform. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh—this was perfect! No, this was nothing, I had to leave—but c’mon. I’d known they would return to Kamino for shore leave sometime after adopting Echo, only I hadn’t expected it to be so soon. I could introduce them to Omega!

They landed on the same platform, just closer to the hangar; however, Tech must’ve recognized me through the windshield, cuz he parked the attack shuttle with the door toward us. As they exited the ship, a smile broke out on my face against my better judgment. Gosh, it was good to see them, with all their relaxed expressions, and Crosshair’s toothpick, and Hunter’s beautiful brown eyes...

Nope, nope, nope! Focus, Katie. Save the crushes for after the galaxy’s been saved.

Wrecker gave me a friendly wave. “Hey, Arina!” he cried. “What’re you doing on Kamino?”

“Had a little Jedi business,” I called back. “You know how it is.”

The rest of the boys followed him across the landing pad to me.

I gestured to Echo with my chin. “How’s your new squad treating you, honey?”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “Better than I deserve,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, I totally believe that.”

As in the Bad Batch TV series, when Wrecker noticed Omega, he squatted a little and inspected her with visible confusion. “What’s that?” he asked.

Tech adjusted his goggles. “Adolescent human female. Origins: uncertain.”

Holy crap. I loved these guys.

“Didn’t know the Jedi traveled with kids this young,” Hunter said.

“We don’t,” I said, looking down at her instead of him so I couldn’t stare. “Gentlemen, I want you to meet your sister, Omega. She’s an enhanced clone, too. Omega, meet the Bad Batch.”

If a person could be sunshine, Omega would’ve burned us all. “It’s great to finally meet you guys,” she said, bouncing on her toes. “You must be Echo; Arina was just telling me about you.”

“Nothing bad, I hope,” he responded with a chuckle.

“C’mon, Echo,” I said. “We’ve known each other a whole two weeks; I could never sass you behind your back. Leastways, not before she’d actually met you.” I winked at Omega and stage-whispered, “Next time.”

Crosshair smirked, and Wrecker laughed and announced, “I like her!”

I opened my mouth to say more, but my comlink interrupted me with a beep signifying an incoming transmission. Sighing, I pressed the button to accept.

“Katie?” buzzed Master Windu’s voice.

I rolled my eyes. Experienced Jedi Master or not, he wasn’t very good at using people’s code names. Even in that Clone Wars story arc when Obi-Wan had gone undercover as a bounty hunter, Windu couldn’t seem to remember to call him by his alias, Rako Hardeen, or even his nickname, Ben.

“Katie isn’t here,” I said. “My name’s Arina, remember?”

“Of course. Have you made your delivery to Shaak Ti?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Then it’s time you returned to Coruscant. You’re missing your ‘training session’ with Master Yoda.”

I exhaled. “On my way, Master.”

I knew I shouldn’t stick around anyway, but still, I didn’t want to go. The boys had only just gotten here! No, no— no friendships or extended interactions, Katie. You’re dangerous, remember? Resigning myself to my fate, I knelt in front of Omega and wrapped her up in a hug. She seemed surprised, not being used to physical affection, but she welcomed it all the same.

“Oh, I’m gonna miss you,” I said, punctuating my words with a squeeze. “You look after your brothers, okay?”

When I drew back, she nodded. “Yes, sir.”

I turned to the Bad Batch. “And you boys be good to your big sister, got it?”

“Hang on,” Wrecker said. “Big sister?”

I smiled at Omega. “I’ll let you explain.” Then, pulling Hunter aside slightly, I added under my breath, “Just give her a few minutes of your time, at least. She’s wanted to meet you her whole life.”

Eyeing the kid curiously, he nodded.

“Thanks,” I said. “C’mon, Rapper, let’s get outta here.”

With a casual salute to everyone, I climbed into the starfighter and took off for Coruscant. Maybe I did like those guys, but Windu was right: I had a duty to perform, which meant that socializing would have to wait. First, I had to save the galaxy.

Chapter Text

Tup’s chip had been removed by now, and he was doing fine. Now, the Jedi were beginning to cycle clones through their cruisers’ medbays a squad at a time, wiping all data on the procedures from the ship’s computers and the medical droids’ memory banks afterward. In an attempt to keep the circle of knowledge as tight as possible, no non-clone personnel were made aware of it.

The riskiest part was that the clones themselves couldn’t be mind-tricked to forget the surgery, as having unexplained matching scars could lead to them asking questions that Palpatine might hear. Instead, after a squad went through, they were informed in the strictest of secrecy that someone very high up had convinced the Kaminoans to put kill switches in their heads, but until the Jedi discovered who was behind it, the clones were forbidden from speaking of it to anyone, even each other. If the culprit learned that the Jedi were on to them, they might flip the switch and kill millions of clones before anyone could stop them. I hated scaring them into silence, but it was safer this way; if we admitted it would “only” enslave them, some guys would be cocky enough to think they could fight it, and they’d let the secret slip. We also ordered them to keep their helmets on around anyone who wasn’t a clone, to make sure that nobody noticed the surgical scars.

Information continued to be sent out in holocrons for the highest possible level of security. When Palpatine asked about it, he was told that the Jedi thought this a safer method of communication for sensitive wartime or Order information, as only another Jedi could access it. The chancellor claimed to find it wise, with the sole exception that if the Jedi died before accessing that info, their officers and commanders would be unable to open the holocron and learn what their next orders were. In response, the Council told him that they’d continue this trial run a while longer and then evaluate its usefulness. Tarkin also expressed his distaste, but nobody listened. (I had finally convinced Anakin not to trust him, thank goodness.)

Padmé wasn’t able to make a whole lot of difference from her position in the Senate, but she did accomplish some good there. Now that she was paying attention, she began to notice which proposals and bills Palpatine actually opposed, and which ones he only pretended to dislike, and she adjusted her arguments accordingly. Not all of his suggestions were being chosen anymore. And, she was good enough at political games that she was able to keep him thinking they were friends, and that they were just growing more politically divergent.

One by one, the other Jedi masters and knights learned the truth about Sidious and his plan, and they began de-chipping their clones. Ahsoka was just about the only padawan who was in the loop about Sidious and inhibitor chips, cuz she was the only one we fully trusted not to accidentally reveal the truth to anyone. So, Cal and Caleb and Barriss and all the other padawans and younglings had no clue. Fortunately, Caleb hadn’t gotten a good look at my face when he’d snuck into that first Council meeting, so he wouldn’t be able to ID me. And Barriss was monitored carefully and surrounded with kindness to ensure that she didn’t drop off the deep end.

Ventress was betrayed, as I’d foretold, when Dooku tried to have her blown up with a Separatist ship. The Jedi were glad to have my knowledge that she wasn’t dead, if only for the clarity of knowing the truth. It was a bit nerve-wracking for me not to know how Mother Talzin would react to Dooku without any Nightbrothers to turn into assassins, but I knew she’d probably come up with something. Hopefully, she wouldn’t enrage him enough that he’d order the Nightsisters’ demise. As much as I found them cruel and creepy, it wasn’t right to want them gone, and I hoped for their sakes that Talzin wouldn’t pursue revenge.

Before long, it was discovered that Krell was indeed planning to become Dooku’s new apprentice, but luckily he was caught before he received his Very Important Holocron about Sidious and chips, and therefore no information was leaked. Moreover, he was caught by Anakin, and through the course of their confrontation, the four-armed traitor ended up in carbonite. (I was honestly impressed with Anakin’s restraint, cuz I’d kind of expected him to rage quit and kill Krell for being too dangerous to live.) Given everything that was going on, the Jedi Council decided to just leave him in his slab until after they’d dealt with Sidious; Krell would essentially be on hold in Jedi jail until that time. And boy howdy hey, that was fine by me.

After another month went by and the war was starting to tilt in the Republic’s favor (cuz the Jedi weren’t just blindly following whatever Palpatine suggested), the chancellor decided that he needed to know what was in those holocrons. He couldn’t open one himself, of course—it required use of the Light Side—nor could he unsuspiciously request one for himself. So, as usual, he turned to bounty hunters. The job was to intercept a courier, steal a holocron, and find a Jedi to open it, then relay its contents to him.

Unfortunately, the courier they decided to target was me.

It made sense: I was weak, obviously lacked training and self-defense skills, and looked like a Jedi. I could give them their holocron and (so they believed) open it at the same time.

I was on my way to see Master Tapal when it happened. He and his padawan, Cal Kestis, had yet to be stationed at Bracca, so their cruiser was currently drifting somewhere in space. Since I knew who this Jedi was, and I was going stir-crazy in the temple, I’d requested to deliver this holocron to him myself. He’d already received the Very Important Holocron, so this one was just an order to pick up a squad of commandos in the area and the clones stationed at a nearby outpost and get their surgeries done.

Rapper and I were about to enter hyperspace when the R4 unit detected a foreign object on the underside of our starfighter: a tracking beacon. I wasn’t sure who’d wanna track me, of all Jedi—cuz if they knew I was the info-dealer, they’d just kill me—but I knew enough about Star Wars to tell that this wasn’t good.

“Get that thing off of us, buddy,” I said. “And send a distress signal to Master Tapal and the Coruscant temple. Tell ‘em we’re being tracked and might need backup when we exit the jump.”

Moments later, another ship appeared on our scanners, and I didn’t need to translate Rapper’s anxious beeps to know it belonged to a bounty hunter. A bounty hunter was tracking me. While I held sensitive information. And I didn’t have the experience, training, or Force ability to outfly them.

“Rapper?” I said, clenching my teeth. “We’re outta time!”

But he was trying to send messages, fly, calculate the jump, and deactivate the tracking beacon all at once, so his reaction time was barely too slow as the ship opened fire. One shot clipped the tip of our left wing before we spiraled away. The next scored the fighter’s underside, causing the whole thing to rock violently as we finally jolted into hyperspace.

The bounty hunter followed us, of course, but at least they couldn’t fire. (I can’t remember if that’s canon or not, but I imagine shooting would be pointless when your ship is bending space to travel. In any case, I’m gonna act like you can’t attack someone while you’re both in hyperspace. Cuz it’s my fic and I do what I want.) I tried to peek over and see who it was, but I didn’t have good rear visibility. Did it matter? Someone was after me, and that was bad enough.

The fighter was still rattling from that second blast, and after several minutes of tense and helpless waiting, I felt the hyperdrive give out. We were pulled out of hyperspace, the sudden change twisting every cell of my body and making me see spots. Not good!

I shouted and gripped the holocron with tense gloved fingers. As the dots receded from my vision and the regular blackness of space replaced blue lightspeed stripes, I caught a spinning glimpse of a glittering city-planet below. “Please tell me you got that message out, buddy!”

Rapper beeped a response in binary, which I still didn’t understand.

“I really, really hope you said yes,” I grunted.

I could do nothing as we hurtled toward the planet’s surface but grip my Jedi Rubik’s cube and hope we didn’t die. I was probably overreacting; if they’d wanted me dead, we would’ve blown up. Where even were we?! Not Coruscant. Corellia? If I became another Clone Wars side quest story, so help me—

Rapper managed to wrestle back just enough control of the fighter that when we skidded to a stop atop a skyscraper, our landing could almost be classified as “rough” instead of “crash.” Almost. But there wasn’t time to celebrate. As I forced open the cracked glass of my cockpit and climbed out of the smoky starfighter, the bounty hunter’s assault ship—which of course had tracked us here, too—set down on the other end of the rooftop. And wouldn’t ya know it, I didn’t even have a lightsaber to defend myself. Psh—as if that would help at all; I had zero training.

“Rapper,” I hissed. “Distress signal. Now.”

Then, the attacking ship’s door opened, and I felt my gut sink even further into the floor. Of course. Of frickin’ course it would be Cad Bane. And... wait a second, was that Sugi? The Zabrak bounty hunter with a moral compass? Yeah, that was definitely her ship. What the heck was she doing with someone like Bane? No, no, it didn’t matter—a job was a job, and she needed money. They were probably being paid well for... whatever they were supposed to do with me.

“No lightsaber,” Bane noted, sticking a toothpick in his mouth. “This’ll be even easier than I thought. I’ll be needin’ that holocron, little lady.”

I hid the cube inside my sleeve the way Master Ti had back on Kamino. “N-no thanks,” I said. “I kinda like it.”

Sugi lifted her hands in placation. “We don’t want any trouble. Just do as he says, and we’ll let you go.”

“Quiet!” Bane snapped. “Get back in that cockpit.”

She glared at him and headed back to the ramp of the Halo.

I shook my head, hoping it would cover the fact that I was shaking everywhere else, too. “Mm, still no. The Council still isn’t too happy about the last time you stole one of these.”

“So you recognize me?” He chuckled. “Nice to know I’m buildin’ a formidable reputation.”

I wasn’t sure if Rapper had gotten a second message out after we were grounded, but even if he had, and someone had responded immediately, how would they find us? We’d been yanked from hyperspace before our destination—thankfully into known space, but still. How many people had the skills to track one starfighter with so little intel?

Sugi seemed kind of uncomfortable here, and I had to wonder again why she was part of this job. She and Bane both had prior experience with Jedi—was that why? Maybe a Good Cop/Bad Cop thing? Hmm... you know what, maybe she was the ride. He probably didn’t have access to a ship at the moment, so he needed her as a getaway driver.

I touched the open comm channel on my wrist comlink. “A little help from literally anyone would be nice.”

Bane bared his teeth in a smile. “They won’t get here in time.”

There was a door maybe forty feet to my left that led down into the skyscraper. Bane was twice that distance in front of me, but he was fast, and he or Sugi could always shoot my hands so I couldn’t open it. Besides, I wasn’t even sure if that door was unlocked.

Ugh, worth a shot, I thought. Ohh, I was gonna regret this so much.

I lunged to my left, and Bane reacted immediately, rushing forward with his much longer and more agile legs. When I had just a few steps to go, a cable shot out from a device on his forearm and coiled around my wrist. Aw, heck. One sharp tug, and I flew backward into his chest.

I struggled against his grip, but I might as well have been fighting steel for all the progress I made. He began dragging me toward Sugi’s ship. He was saying something derogatory about how Jedi training must’ve gone downhill, but I ignored the insults and rammed my head back into his jaw.

Stupid. Very stupid. The blue bounty hunter released me with a snarl, but my head was still buzzed from getting pulled from hyperspace, and this hit amplified it. All I could think was that I had to escape, whether or not my vision was blurred.

So, naturally, I ran. Right off the edge of the building.

The sudden lack of anything beneath my feet stole the breath from my lungs. My vision cleared too late, showing a view of the faraway ground that I’d much rather not see. Ohh frick, oh crap oh crap oh crap—I was about to splat, I was gonna—b-but maybe the holocron would shatter with me, maybe it’d be saved from him—the info in my head could never reach Palpatine if I died—th-this was good—it was good it was good it was good—

An arm hooked around my waist and yanked me back to the skies, knocking even more air out of me. Temporarily dizzy again, I felt a conflicted mix of relief and worry as the street receded below. I’d forgotten about Bane’s rocket boots.

“Nice try,” he said, tearing the holocron from my fingers before I could regain myself. He probably thought I would’ve landed gracefully and disappeared into the crowd if he hadn’t caught me, like a proper Jedi would’ve. Heck, would he have been surprised.

He landed us back on top of the skyscraper, but his next snide words were cut off by the sound of another ship whooshing in from above. He was holding me in such a way that I couldn’t easily tilt my head up to see who was coming. Was it his friend or mine? How screwed was I? Dust from the ground was blasted up into my eyes as they neared. Before the third ship had even come to a stop, I heard a door hiss open, and then—

“Aw yeah!” screamed a familiar voice. Wrecker sailed out of the Marauder and landed with a thud on the rooftop, followed closely by Hunter and Echo, their weapons already drawn. Tech brought the shuttle around to train its guns on the ramp of the Halo, preventing Sugi from fleeing. Apparently, they were the nearby commando squad that Tapal was supposed to de-chip, and they’d intercepted my distress signals. (Of course Tech and Echo would be able to pinpoint my location. They’re freaking amazing.)

They engaged the bounty hunters, which resulted in me being tossed aside while Bane kept a hold of the holocron. Hunter and Wrecker quickly gained the upper hand on him thanks to brute force, outnumbering, and sheer awesomeness. At the same time, Echo took on Sugi, who looked to be seriously regretting her involvement in this job now. Tech still had her ship pinned. Bane was losing, but it would only be a matter of time before he finished analyzing my boys’ strengths and weaknesses and started getting smart on them. However, he did lose my cube in the struggle, and I darted in to snatch it up.

Echo and Sugi were pretty evenly matched, though the latter obviously knew she wasn’t going to get away—she just refused to go down quietly. Meanwhile, Bane had broken out his toys, forcing Hunter and Wrecker to get a lot more creative. Frick, I hated how resourceful Bane was. Even losing, he was tough. Since the Bad Batch clearly wanted to help me escape, I ran to my fighter, where Rapper sat vibrating with fear behind the wing.

“C’mon, buddy, we gotta go,” I said.

He shook his little droid dome and chittered something in response.

“Why not?” I asked. I inspected the starfighter, then frowned. He was right. After that crash, we weren’t going anywhere in this thing.

“Up here!” someone yelled.

I looked up at the clones’ attack shuttle to see Omega leaning out of the still-open door almost directly overhead. What the heck was she doing here?!

“I’ll explain later,” she shouted. “Jump!”

I wasn’t actually a Jedi, so there was no way I’d make that thirty-foot leap. Instead, knowing I had to keep the holocron away from the bounty hunters, I wound up for a throw. “Catch!”

I tossed the cube straight up, and her little fingers closed around it.

“No!” Bane cried.

He was tangled in a fight with Hunter—Wrecker stood to one side, shaking off a daze from getting thrown against a chimney—but the blue alien managed to get one arm free long enough to launch his grappling line at her. It wound around the holocron. Bane pulled hard, and although Omega pulled back, her stance wasn’t firm enough to counter his strength. As the holocron was ripped from her grasp, she pitched sideways and tumbled over the edge of the ramp.

“Omega!” Hunter yelled.

Time seemed to slow down as fear jolted straight down to my fingertips. If I could just catch her! She was falling too fast for a gentle stop, but my body might soften the landing. I reached up for her—and for a moment, it looked like she did slow, though her eyes were still racing as she shrieked in alarm. I couldn’t let her get hurt, I couldn’t let her die—

She collided with me roughly, yet with less force than I’d expected. Despite a mild stumble, I managed to remain upright and clutched her tightly against my chest.

“You okay?” I asked breathlessly.

She hugged me, shivering, and nodded.

I set her down. “Go hide with Rapper.”

She obeyed without question. Behind us, the battle had resumed. Wrecker had caught the holocron before it reached Bane and snapped the grappling line, so thankfully it was out of the bounty hunters’ hands. The boys fought with renewed vigor now that Omega was in danger, but freaking Cad Bane just had too many tricks up his sleeve for them to keep him pinned for long. Sugi, however, looked close to caving; the way Bane had endangered a kid without hesitation really got to her. Employer or not, he shouldn’t have done that. And, where... where was Crosshair?

Everyone was moving too fast for me to follow the fight. Bane was smart and wouldn’t stay in the same place for more than half a second, making it difficult for anyone to land a hit on him. Where the heck was Crosshair? Although the holocron exchanged hands several times between the clones, Bane couldn’t quite catch it. So, altering his tactics, he stole the vibro-blade from Wrecker’s leg sheath and held it to the throat of the closest hostage he could find.

Which was me. Again. Of course.

“The holocron,” he growled. “Hand it over, or the Jedi dies.”

I gritted my teeth. “Don’t you dare, Wrecker.” I tried to ignore the weapon at my throat, but that was kinda hard to do when I could hear its hum of electricity and feel its warm vibrations. How long did it take to die from a slit throat? Would it electrocute me and make it quicker?

Bane started to say something else, and in doing so, he unconsciously shifted the blade away from me a fraction. Instantly, his head snapped back. As he released the knife and me, he fell backward. No fighting, no snide words, no rocketing away. I didn’t even have to turn around to know it.

He was dead.

Found Crosshair.

He’d leapt from the open door of the shuttle some time ago and taken up a sniper position on a neighboring roof. Tech and Echo hadn’t needed his help with Sugi, so Crosshair had spent the last several minutes trying to get a clear shot at Bane. Until now, the bounty hunter had either been moving too fast or had had a weapon too close to someone else. Crosshair had been planning to stun the guy, but then Bane had nearly killed Omega. So, as soon as the blade had left my throat, Crosshair shot him.

Holy... Cad Bane was dead. Cad. Bane.

Halle-frickin’ -lujah.

Chapter Text

With the fighting now over, Tech picked up Crosshair, then landed the Marauder and disembarked. The rooftop was a bit crowded now, but I didn’t care as long as no one was attacking me anymore. I scooped up Wrecker’s knife and walked it back to him, still not looking at Bane’s body.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I have like zero self-defense skills.”

Hunter shrugged as I exchanged the holocron and the blade with his brother. “That’s what we’re here for.” He seemed a bit confused that a Jedi my age couldn’t protect herself, but he graciously chose not to comment.

“You all right, Arina?” Wrecker asked.

Why did it hurt that he’d used my fake name? “Fine,” I said. “Thank you. Omega, you okay? Rapper?”

Omega nodded, and the mech beeped something in a wobbly tone. I sighed with a long-suffering smile.

“I don’t know why I ask,” I admitted. “I still don’t speak binary.”

“He says he’s okay,” Omega translated, “and he can’t wait to get back to Coruscant.”

I chuckled. “You and me both, buddy.” Omega still looked shaky as she made her way over to us, and I couldn’t decide whether to wrap her in a hug or fold my arms. “So, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Well...” She blushed, scratching her hand.

Hunter chose the arm-folding option. “She stowed away. Our shore leave ended yesterday, and when we left Kamino, she thought it’d be a good idea to hide aboard the ship and come with us.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess: the gunner’s mount?”

“The gunner’s mount. We would’ve taken her back immediately, but we ran into a battle first and haven’t been able to return yet.”

“Omega,” I said sternly, “I know you want to be with your brothers, but you can’t just follow them into a warzone. They take on threats that even ordinary soldiers can’t handle, and you aren’t trained.”

“Well, neither are you,” she protested.

“And I’m a courier. I’m not supposed to be in dangerous battles. You aren’t supposed to be out here at all. How is Nala Se gonna trust you outside the lab again if you just run off like this?”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to be in the lab anymore.”

I placed a hand on my hip and gave her my trademarked Disapproving Mom Look.

Her face fell, and she sighed. “Sorry.”

Hunter and I shared a glance. That was probably enough parenting for now.

“We’ll get you home soon, kid,” he said, “and hopefully in one piece.”

Omega nodded, still dejected. “Thanks for saving me back there, Arina.” She tried for a weak laugh. “No one’s ever used the Force on me before.”

“Actually, I didn’t,” I said. “I told you, I’m not good with the Force.”

“Well, it worked today,” Tech told me.

I frowned.

I wasn’t really a Jedi.... Except, Tech wouldn’t state something as fact unless he believed it was fact, which for him required confirmation by sight and/or data evidence. I stared at my hands and thought back to the way Omega had seemed to slow in the air. How she’d hit me more softly than expected.

“That’s not possible...” I murmured.

I had pushed her upward to slow her fall. Force -pushed her upward. And... and for weeks now, I’d somehow felt an intimate understanding of those around me, like how the Jedi could sense others’ emotions. I’d thought it was a combination of Star Wars knowledge and psychological understanding, but now... I could swear I felt Omega’s shakiness, and Tech’s focus, and Hunter’s concern.

I... had the Force.

Echo cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present before I could drown in thought, and I remembered that we still had to deal with Sugi. Tucking the holocron safely away, I approached the Zabrak where she stood with Echo beside the Halo. She was now disarmed and handcuffed.

“Who hired you?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Bane reached out last night for a pilot. He never told me who the client was.”

I nodded. That sounded on brand for him, plus I felt her sincerity. Given her disposition, if she’d known the client was evil, she probably wouldn’t have taken the job. And, luckily for her, this meant that Sidious—who I had no doubt was behind this—was unaware of her involvement, and she could walk away safe. Frankly, I just wanted to let her go, but then her crown horns caught my attention, and suddenly I was thinking of a group of very different Zabraks.

“You’re from Iridonia, right?” I asked.

“So?”

I absently rubbed my right hand through the glove. “Is it a good place to live?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I guess so? I haven’t been back in a while.”

“But if a bunch of newcomers decided to settle there,” I persisted, “d’you think they’d be well-received? Would the locals be kind to them?”

Sugi started to answer, then she hesitated and studied me more closely. “You know... I heard that the Nightbrothers went missing from Dathomir not too long ago. Nobody seems to know where they went—just the whole clan, gone. The head of the Nightsisters is furious.”

I could deny her implied accusation, but something in me told me I shouldn’t. Instinct or the Force, I chose to listen to it. “I didn’t have much time to help them settle in,” I said. “It all happened so quickly, and then I had to leave before the ship was found. I’ve been wanting to check up on them, but now that I’m affiliated with the Jedi and the Republic, there’s too much political tape in the way. I don’t wanna start a war with Talzin, and I definitely can’t have anyone tracking me there.”

Echo frowned. “So it’s true?”

“They were slaves on their homeworld,” I told him, “mistreated and trapped. I set them free.”

“Iridonians and Dathomirians aren’t the same, you know,” Sugi said. “You can’t just transplant them and expect everyone to get along.”

“I know. That’s why I have a proposition for you, Sugi.” I took a deep breath. “By law, the boys should arrest you for attempted kidnapping and for obstructing the delivery of private military intel. But... if you’ll promise to go to Iridonia and help some refugees rebuild their lives, I’ll let you go.”

Crosshair scowled. “And you trust a bounty hunter’s word?”

“I wouldn’t have trusted Bane’s, but Sugi’s an honorable woman. If she makes a promise, I know she’ll keep it.”

She smiled at me then. It was a cocky smile, and proud, but I detected underneath it more than a hint of relief. Given her line of work, it was rare to find anyone who’d trust her at her word. “Do you want proof of contact?” she asked.

“A report would be nice,” I replied. “I’ll give you my contact information.”

“It’s a deal.”

I exhaled. “Let her go, Echo.”

He made a face, but he unlocked her handcuffs and returned her weapons. Straightening her hair, she nodded her thanks to me.

“You should know,” I told her, “they’re kind of a weird mix between violent and subservient, probably even more so where Zabrak women are concerned. Try not to provoke or scare them. Also... they knew me by a different name, and I wasn’t a Jedi then. Just tell them you were sent by their honorary sister. And all of you—” I looked at her and each member of the Bad Batch in turn— “can’t ever mention this again. I don’t want their abusers to find them.”

I gave Sugi the location of the Nightbrother colony, then she said goodbye and climbed back into her assault ship. Relief continued to buzz under my skin at the thought that someone more capable than me would be giving aid to those boys. Sugi knew much more than I did about Iridonia, so she’d be able to guide them in whatever industrial or agricultural pursuits would help them thrive in the long run, maybe even helping them form healthy relationships with the neighboring villages. And who knew? Perhaps interacting with her would help them overcome their fear of Zabrak females.

“You sure that was a good idea?” Echo asked as the Halo flew away.

“Ah, she’s got this,” I said. “Unless you were referring to how I just told you all my deep, dark secret. Cuz in that case, I’m not certain. After what just happened with Bane, I clearly can’t trust any of you to have my back.”

Hunter chuckled. “You’re welcome. Looks like your starfighter is out of commission. Need a lift?”

“I’d love one. C’mon, Rapper, we’ve got a date with Master Tapal.”

We called a cleanup crew to retrieve my fighter’s wreckage, then the Bad Batch flew us out to Master Tapal’s cruiser. He was a kind man, about as sternly compassionate as I’d expected, and Cal was an energetic little tweenager. Once Master Tapal had viewed the holocron’s contents, he sent a squad out to relieve the clones at the nearby outpost so they could come get their surgeries done. Then, he brought the Bad Batch down to the medbay to remove their chips, too.

While they were in there, I pulled Omega aside for a long talk about what was going on with the clone army. She already knew about inhibitor chips, so she might understand what their matching scars indicated, which meant that I had to ensure she didn’t go around chatting about them. I was open with her about our calling them “kill switches” to the other clones, but I made it clear that the danger was real—both that posed by the chips, and that of talking about them where bugs or eavesdroppers might hear (especially if those eavesdroppers were Kaminoans). I also insisted that the Jedi would handle things, and that if she tried to save any clones herself, it would only make things much worse. To be honest, the poor girl looked kind of scared by the end of the conversation, but she promised to maintain her silence and not try anything.

When the boys finally returned from the medbay, I could tell they were disturbed. I was glad they knew the truth now—or, well, some of it—but if I knew them, they’d break the no-talking rule as soon as they were alone. To impress the urgency of this on them once more before they left, I tailed them back to the Marauder.

“I know you don’t like to follow orders,” I said in a low voice, “but I’m begging you, follow this one. You have no idea what’s at stake here. A time will come when we can talk about it, and I promise I’ll answer every question, but until then, silence. Even if you think you’re alone.”

Crosshair and Tech especially looked loath to obey, but they could tell I was worried—even more than I’d been earlier today when I’d almost gotten kidnapped. One by one, they nodded their promises.

Hunter studied me. “You’ve sure got a lot of secrets,” he noted.

You have no idea, I thought. I brightened my expression. “Well! Good luck getting Omega home safe. And you—” I tugged her against me for a squeeze— “keep out of trouble.”

“You know,” Hunter said, “I should’ve guessed you were new to the whole Jedi thing.”

Way newer than he thought. I laughed. “Why, cuz I’m clueless and unskilled?”

“You’re casual.”

“Yeah,” Wrecker said. “It’s great!”

Crosshair smirked. “I think ‘clueless and unskilled’ better hits the mark.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, but I just made a face at the sniper.

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted. “Ahsoka and Anakin are pretty good at the casual bit, but you won’t find another Jedi my age who’s this hopeless. Think I can join the Bad Batch as a defective Jedi?”

Echo chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll learn. You’ll be a powerful master in no time.”

“Ehh, no. But it’s a nice sentiment. I’ll take that as a ‘maybe’ for joining the Bad Batch?”

They all laughed. Gosh, I was gonna miss them.

We said our goodbyes, and then they flew back to Kamino, and I went to find Rapper and me another starfighter. The Council had been briefed on the attack, and they were eager to have me back on Coruscant. And for once, I needed to talk to them about more than just my knowledge of Sidious’s plans.

Apparently, it was time I started Jedi training for real.

Chapter Text

I made my full report to the Councilmembers who were available, and they all agreed that I shouldn’t be allowed off of Coruscant anymore. This frustrated me, as I’d finally started bonding with some of my favorite clones only for me to be put on house arrest, but I didn’t fight them on it. In fact, I probably would’ve decided it myself. The things in my head were far more valuable than any holocron, starfighter, or relationship. (The Council had been made aware that I also possessed knowledge of events decades in the future—things I hadn’t told them simply because I hoped that that future was now obsolete—and until the Sith were stopped, we agreed that such information must remain well guarded.)

Yoda didn’t seem very surprised to learn that I’d used the Force. He had sensed something strange in me when we first met, and merely hadn’t thought it relevant before. (Totally on brand for him to withhold that, no matter how annoyed it makes me.) Plus, the war against the Separatists and the Sith was far more pressing. Now, he promised that whenever Councilmembers were available, they would train me for real.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, really. I mean, sure, it would be cool to learn how to use the Force, and maybe I’d even build my own lightsaber someday, but I wasn’t sure that the Jedi Code was something I wanted to commit to. I disagreed with the “No Attachments” rule, and it bothered me that they tended to teach their students to suppress and ignore their negative emotions when the healthy thing would be to teach them proper emotional processing skills. Considering they not only felt their own natural range of emotions, but the emotions of everyone around them as well, ignoring those feelings was a terrible way to go.

Still, I did want to learn better control of my newfound abilities, and the Jedi could help me with that. So sure, yeah, I’d wear the funky padawan braid and take their lessons. But when all of this was over, I’d definitely need to have a long talk with them about emotional literacy and mental health.

Sugi reached out to me after about a week on Iridonia. The Nightbrothers had been struggling when she arrived, as their hostility had made it difficult to maintain any friendships with their Iridonian neighbors. They’d definitely been scared of her at first, and to some extent still were, but they were learning to see her as less of an authority than a knowledgeable friend. She’d helped them with such local tips as how to optimize crop growth and what types of things to trade at the town market. The woman admitted to me that they were less barbaric than she’d expected, and their initial struggles after I’d left had humbled them enough that they were willing to learn from her now. They were surprised to learn that I’d become a Jedi, but they understood why I couldn’t visit them. I thanked Sugi profusely, and then we ended the transmission.

I was still allowed outside the temple as long as I stayed on Coruscant, kept a comlink on me, and told someone where I was going, so sometimes I’d go to visit Padmé. It had been a couple of months since we’d met, and while we couldn’t see each other very often, we still enjoyed each other’s company. She was intelligent, funny, and passionate, so conversations were never boring. And she obviously appreciated having someone—especially another woman—to talk to about her husband. The separation was hard enough, let alone the constant worrying and the inability to discuss it with anyone. So she always liked it when I came over. Plus, I knew I could trust her to keep my secrets as well. She was thrilled to discover that I might be a real Jedi after all.

My training progressed slowly. As an adult, I didn’t have a child’s affinity for quick learning and absorption, yet I did have the benefit of having witnessed many different Jedi teachers’ lessons already in the movies and shows. If Luke could learn as an adult, then so could I. I kinda wished Qui-Gon was around to mentor me, as I felt that our uniquenesses and outside-the-box thought processes would’ve meshed well. But it was all right. As it was, I got to sample many different teaching styles and learn from all of the masters’ different perspectives. Even if I didn’t agree with them (*cough* Windu *cough*), it was certainly instructive. I especially liked working with Master Plo, Christofisto, and Aayla Secura, though they were seldom back on Coruscant. I also sometimes trained with Ahsoka, since Anakin thought that teaching would be beneficial for her (as it was for him lol). Eventually, I developed just enough control that I could open the temple doors with the Force instead of my special key.

After one training session with Ahsoka while Anakin watched, she noted that I seemed more distracted than usual. My mind was often tangled up in the future or bouncing through battles I knew were taking place—gotta love ADHD—but today was worse. She’d lent me one of her lightsabers to teach me some basic stances, and in one of her demonstrations, she’d gotten a little carried away and shown me some of her favorite defensive moves. Moves that I remembered vividly from her and Rex’s Order 66 episodes.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened. These flashes hit me at random, reminding me of how someone I knew was supposed to die in canon—particularly if it was a heart-wrenching moment like Umbara or Order 66. Knowing some of those people personally now only made it hurt more. Since Bane’s attack, the flashes had become more frequent.

“It’s nothing,” I lied, trying to shake the memory from my vision.

“Is it... something we should know about?” Ahsoka asked. Thankfully, we were in a secure area where we could talk about sensitive topics if necessary.

“No,” I said. “Your future is different now. It’s just... hard to forget what would’ve been.”

Ahsoka glanced at Anakin. “What was it going to be?”

“I don’t think you wanna know.”

“Maybe talking about it will help you let go,” she said. “C’mon. It can’t be that bad.”

“It can.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m a soldier, Arina. Death doesn’t frighten me—even my own.”

She didn’t understand, couldn’t possibly. I sat down and shook my head. “That’s not why it was horrifying,” I whispered.

Part of me desperately wanted to get the words out, to make them leave my mind alone, but I swallowed them back so I wouldn’t hurt my friends. To my chagrin, though, both Anakin and Ahsoka could sense my pain, and they sat beside me and waited for me to speak.

I clenched my jaw. Fine. “After Mandalore, you...” I started. But no. I needed to go further back. “You’d been away from the war for a long time, Ahsoka—the reason’s not important. When you got back, Rex and the boys were so excited to see you that they painted your facial markings on their helmets. It was beautiful. Everyone saluted you, and—well. A bunch of stuff happened all at once, so you had to split the 501st and take half of them to free Mandalore while Anakin did other things. You fought and defeated Maul, even captured him against all odds.” I smiled weakly at Anakin. “You and Obi-Wan would’ve been proud of her.

“On the way back... on your way to Coruscant, you were distracted. Something Maul had said about Sidious’s plans. You sensed the disturbance in the Force, but you weren’t there when... when the order came in.” My hands were shaking. This was so much harder, telling it to her face. It all would’ve been real if I hadn’t shown up.

“When the door opened, Rex drew his blasters on you. He was crying. He told you to find Fives, find him, find him, and then he and the other clones opened fire.” The lump in my throat grew, making it difficult to get the next part out. “You crawled through the vents to get away. Rex ordered all the escape pods destroyed and made plans to flush you out. You had to release Maul as a distraction, but he ended up destroying the hyperdrive and much of the ship. By the time the cruiser fell out of hyperspace, it... it looked terrifying. Shattered and smoking and with no way off of it for everybody. It was gonna hit a moon. Everything was damaged—they couldn’t change course.

“Y-you asked a few droids for help, and they showed you a report Rex had made after Fives’s death. He talked about the inhibitor chips—he didn’t know what they were for, just that they existed and Fives thought they were bad. You stunned Rex and brought him to the medbay to get his out. Th-they were breaking down the door, and you had to use the Force just to find it in his head. If the surgery had taken e-even a second longer—” I broke off and started massaging my right hand.

“There was only one shuttle, but Jesse was smart—h-he knew you’d go for it—he set a trap. Called Rex a traitor and gave everyone orders to execute you both. He was— gone, Ahsoka—he was right there, but it wasn’t Jesse anymore, just a chip with Jesse’s body.” I shivered. “Rows and rows of soldier-slaves with your face on their helmets, all ready to kill a woman they would’ve rather died to protect. The droids had more free will than they did. And Rex knew he’d have to kill his brothers to save you, and they were all gonna die anyway, but it—it still broke him. He was crying again. Y-you were both so scared.”

“Stop,” Anakin said.

At first, I thought he just didn’t want to hear the rest anymore, but then I saw the tears in Ahsoka’s eyes. Her own wide-eyed horror, and the same feelings mirrored under Anakin’s guarded expression.

He put a heavy hand on my arm and said, his voice controlled, “You’re projecting your emotions.”

My brow furrowed. “I... I can do that?”

“Just as Jedi can sense another’s emotions,” he told me, “we can project our own onto other people. It’s considered manipulative and therefore against the Jedi Code.”

“I-I... I didn’t mean...”

Ahsoka wiped her face, and I felt her shame at not being able to better control herself. “I know you didn’t,” she said. “What happened next?”

I hesitated, but I’d already given her pain; now she needed closure. Swallowing, I did my best not to project anything else. “Maul got to the shuttle before you did, and you couldn’t stop him without leaving Rex, so you let him go. The cruiser was entering the atmosphere now, but you and Rex found a Y-wing that was still flyable and escaped through the burning debris.” I stared down at my lap. “No one else did. You went down to the crash site afterward and dug out every single body, to bury them. I’ve never... I’ve never seen anything so horrifying. So, there. That was supposed to be your future.”

Ahsoka took a long, deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. “Well. I guess it’s a good thing you came along then, huh?”

“Agreed,” Anakin said. “No wonder you were so insistent about getting the chips out.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I shouldn’t have dumped that on you.”

Ahsoka shrugged a little to cover her shaky inhale. “Better out than in.”

I huffed in dry amusement. Some things were definitely better kept in. “So, this emotional projection thing. How does it work? Cuz I don’t wanna put anyone through that again.”

Anakin explained the action to me, admitting that he had struggled with it in his early training, too. They even allowed me to practice on them a little (using far less negative emotions), so I could learn what it felt like to project, and therefore how to recognize when I was accidentally doing it again. (For one, I realized I had done it when I first met the Nightbrothers, projecting my urgency and fear until it convinced them to act. So... maybe not always a bad thing?) This ability, at least, I mastered rather quickly since emotional health was something I enjoyed learning about.

Heh. Maybe if enough people projected happiness onto Sidious, he’d be so confused that he’d join the Light Side and end the war. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Chapter Text

Another month passed. The war dragged on, but it was tipping more heavily in our favor, and not in a way that Palpatine liked. The galaxy wasn’t nearly as weak as he needed it to be before the end. Moreover, the holocrons still eluded him, yet he’d lost the only bounty hunter capable of defeating a Jedi to get one. Even Anakin spent less time with him now and was less receptive to his teachings. Palpatine could feel the grand balance of Light Vs Dark tilting again, this time away from him and all his evil plans, and he was in no way prepared to lose. He’d staked too much in this, planned for too long to give up now.

At length, he decided it was time to take a bigger risk. He ordered Dooku to capture a less-experienced Jedi by any means necessary and make it look like they’d died. That way, no one would come to rescue them while they were tortured for information. He wanted what was in those holocrons.

The victim was U’mera Syuni, a Pantoran Jedi Knight who’d only passed her trials a few months ago—a decent general and good woman, but young. Grievous launched a terrible attack on her fleet that forced her to send her men into retreat while she covered them and was captured. Then, the glorified Zurg toy sent a holographic message to the Council in which he showed them U’mera’s lightsaber and claimed that she’d died in great pain, as would every Jedi who faced him. Since killing a Jedi and gloating about it was totally something Grievous would do, and her existence was now carefully shrouded by the Dark Side, none of us suspected that she was actually still alive.

Grievous delivered the Pantoran to Count Dooku, who tortured her mercilessly for days. When she didn’t break, Sidious came himself to inflict greater pain. Finally, the poor woman confessed that the Jedi knew who he really was, and that was why they used holocrons now. U’mera didn’t reveal her further knowledge of the inhibitor chips, but it was enough. The Order knew that Sidious was Palpatine.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

He needed Anakin to turn to the Dark Side, but since Anakin knew his true identity, that would be a bit more difficult. However, Sidious was smart, and he knew all of Anakin’s weaknesses. The biggest and easiest one to exploit, of course, was Padmé.

When Senator Amidala and Chancellor Palpatine disappeared at the same time, it wasn’t hard to guess that he’d captured her. All that remained in their wake was a message telling where they’d gone—Mustafar, of course. Where else? I was in the meeting with the other Jedi generals and Ahsoka when Windu explained what had happened, so I saw the rage that filled Anakin’s face. Until that moment, I hadn’t understood why Old Palps would do this and risk revealing his hand, but now I got it. Ohh dear, we were in trouble.

“He must’ve figured out we know about him,” I said.

Only Windu and Tiin were physically present this time, and the former raised a critical eyebrow at me. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, young one.”

Frickin—!

“I’m not,” I snapped, unable to help a small glare. “Palpatine is so meticulous that leaving any hint of his true motives means he already knows we know. That would throw a wrench in his plans and make him desperate. He still wants Anakin to turn Dark, so he must’ve taken Padmé to get him to that point.”

Only then did the others notice how worked up Anakin was. Naturally, they proceeded to try to make him calm down, but of course that only spurred his fear further. Ooh, Palpatine was clever.

“Anakin, wait,” Obi-Wan said.

“Think, we must,” Yoda added.

“We don’t have time to stop and think!” Anakin cried. “Padmé’s being held by a Sith lord, and you all want to sit here debating!”

His holographic figure whirled and started away, preparing to hunt down Sidious and rescue his wife singlehandedly if he had to. He ignored everyone else’s pleas for him to stop, as I’d known he would. He would chase down Palpatine in his anger and fear, and it would all play right into that Sith prune’s hands.

“I have an idea,” I blurted.

Anakin paused, already halfway out of the hologram. “You can’t stop me,” he said.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

I twisted my hands together. Now what? He was listening, but I only had half a second before he left again. Idea, idea, idea... Got it!

“Take some masters with you,” I said. “Jedi who are close by and that you get along with.”

Kenobi frowned. “They cannot simply leave their armies—”

“Obi-Wan, shut up—Palpatine’s forcing our hand. We can’t change Anakin’s mind, so we just have to make sure he’s not alone. Who’s closest to him right now? You’ll have to leave your commanders in charge.”

Masters Plo and Mundi, who knew by now to trust me when I got this insistent, raised their hands. Awesome—they didn’t irritate Anakin like some of the masters did, so there was less chance of a charged scene like “Windu vs Palps and Anakin” happening this time. It’d be better if he had even more backup, but Obi-Wan was right: we couldn’t just remove all generals from the battlefield, especially since Padmé needed immediate help and couldn’t wait for all the Jedi to assemble.

“Y’know,” I said, “if Ventress is a bounty hunter now, you should recruit her, too. I know that—hush; she’s morally gray, okay, not evil—I know she’d love to fight Dooku again, and teaming up with you would give her a better chance of success, so she’ll probably agree.” And, Anakin had dealt with her enough times that having her around wouldn’t tip him over the edge to Darkness. “And Master Yoda, you should go too.”

Luminara shook her head. “This is unwise. I agree that Sidious is dangerous, but Arina isn’t even—”

“Enough,” Yoda said. “Listen to Arina, we must.”

Maybe I wasn’t a military commander, and maybe I didn’t have authority to command the Council, but I knew more than all of them combined about this gigantic threat. “Even Yoda isn’t powerful enough to defeat him,” I told her. “Anakin needs all the help he can get. I also recommend that when you arrive, you plant a camera and broadcast everything to the whole galaxy—even the Seppies. Then everyone will see that Dooku and Palpatine are both evil. Even if you lose, maybe the fighting will stop.”

“Good idea,” Ahsoka said. “I can find you a camera, Master.”

He nodded, and she ran off.

“How can you be certain that Dooku will be there?” Fisto asked.

“Oh, he’ll be there,” I promised. “Sidious wants Anakin to be his new apprentice, so he’ll try to get him to kill his current apprentice first. That’s kind of his thing.” I met Skywalker’s eyes. “Anakin, your feelings are valid, but don’t let them control you. Remember, you tamed the Son and Daughter—you can handle this. And wait for backup. If you arrive alone, you will turn Dark, and if that happens, you will kill Padmé.”

Even through the hologram, I could feel his mounting urgency. But blessedly, he knew better than to ignore the warnings of the woman who knew the future. We nodded to each other, and then he, Koon, Mundi, and Yoda left the meeting to coordinate their meeting and attack. I didn’t give the rest of the Council time to whisper their dissent or confusion.

“All righty, guys,” I said, putting my hands on the table. “We need to figure out how Palpatine knows we know. Any ideas?”

We tossed theories back and forth for almost a minute, until someone suggested that he might have tortured it out of a Jedi. Given that we knew that Grievous had had a Jedi in custody very recently, and we hadn’t actually had proof of U’mera’s death, that was the most likely option.

“Can we rescue her?” I asked. “I realize we’re short on generals, and we don’t really know U’mera’s alive, but if she is, we have to save her before she spills any more sensitive info. Given that Grievous has her, we’d need to send at least one Jedi, and maybe some commandos. Ooh, Clone Force 99 would be good—he wouldn’t be able to predict their tactics.”

“Since you’re so eager to get this done,” Windu said, “why don’t you go?”

I actually laughed at that. “We want this mission to be a success, my guy, and I don’t have the training for that. But you’re pretty skilled, and you’re right here on Coruscant. If I had to pick, I’d send you and the Bad Batch to kick that tin can’s butt.”

The Jedi Master eyed me. His expression was as serious as ever, but I thought I detected a glimmer of amusement deep in his eyes. “Very well,” he said, “we’ll both go. It looks like you could use the experience.”

I wanted to protest—heck yeah I was scared—but at the same time, it felt unfair to be sending everyone else off on dangerous missions while I stayed safe at home. Plus, the mission had been my idea, and I did want to see the Bad Batch again. I sighed. “Fine. Jerk.”

He chuckled and stepped away to notify his clone commander. Meanwhile, I tried to ignore how my fingers were shaking. Crap. This was all happening too fast. When he returned to the group, though, I took a deep breath and clenched my fists.

“The rest of you,” I said, “be aware that Palpatine’s probably gonna trigger Order 66, so—oh, perfect.” The clone commanders under Koon, Mundi, Yoda, and Windu had just joined us via hologram, and Ahsoka had returned as well. That was fast.

“Why?” Luminara asked. “If he has tortured a Jedi for information, he likely already knows that we’ve been removing the clones’ inhibitor chips, so he would have no reason to trigger the order now.”

I sighed. Wise or not, these guys could be slow on the uptake sometimes. “If he doesn’t know we took them out, he’ll give the order to try and eradicate the Jedi before we can stop him. If he does know, he’ll also be aware that not all of the clones have gotten their surgery yet, meaning he can still trigger the order and try to wipe out a decent number of us.”

The clones who’d just joined us looked at each other in confusion and concern. Oof. I should probably explain things to them.

“Commanders,” I said, “I believe those kill switches are about to be activated. If the chancellor tells you to execute Order 66, do not relay it to your troops. Any clone who hasn’t had surgery needs that done immediately—withdraw them from the battlefield if you have to. Once activated, those chips will make them kill the Jedi and anyone who protects them. Stun the mind-controlled clones if you can, but don’t kill them—it’s not their fault. Are there any questions?”

“M-mind control, sir?” Commander Wolffe asked.

“We called them kill switches so you’d take the threat seriously,” I explained. “The inhibitor chips take over your mind and force you to obey. In a way, you are dead—you have zero control and kill your best friends without hesitation. Anything else?”

The clone commanders looked a bit overwhelmed, and the Councilmembers still didn’t look like they all agreed with me. But no one else spoke out.

I straightened. “Good. Now everyone get back to work, spread the word to the other Jedi, get those chips removed, and may the Force be with you. Windu, let’s go.”

And with that, I left the meeting to begin the craziest—and quite possibly the last—episode of my life.

Chapter Text

By the time we’d contacted the Bad Batch and jumped into hyperspace on an XS stock light freighter, I was hardcore having second thoughts. Even ignoring the fact that frickin’ Grievous was waiting at the other end of the line, maybe my coming wasn’t such a good idea. While I knew that Jedi tended to learn on the fly these days, and it was totally possible that I’d unlock some new Force achievement in the heat of the moment again (like when I’d Force-pushed Omega to slow her fall), it wasn’t guaranteed. I might prove to be more hindrance than help on this mission.

Windu didn’t have to look over from the pilot’s seat to notice my distress. “Is there a problem, Katie?”

I gritted my teeth and muttered dryly, “I want to go home and rethink my life.”

“There will be time for that when we’re done,” he said.

He didn’t get the reference. Of course he wouldn’t get the reference—nobody but Obi-Wan and that one death stick guy would get the reference, except they weren’t here, which meant I had no one to make funny jokes to cuz Windu was too frickin’ serious and everyone else was busy with war and I was way overthinking things and really needed to freaking breathe—breathe, Katie—breathe. Heck, this was a bad idea.

“What if I get in your way?” I asked. As much as his rigidity got on my nerves, I respected his abilities as a warrior—and I knew that I was nowhere close to that level.

Windu was unreadable, even emotionally: I couldn’t sense his feelings. “Trust in the Force,” he said. “As long as you listen to its guidance, we won’t have a problem.”

Ugh, this guy. “Easier said than done,” I grumbled.

“You wanted to help,” he replied. “I could sense it in the meeting—it’s why everyone followed your lead even though you don’t have the proper authority. You are stronger in the Force than you think; you just have to unlock that ability within yourself.”

“I do want to help, but...” I couldn’t look at him as I continued softly, “I’ve been thinking. I know more than anybody, but I don’t have the training or discipline to resist mind probes or torture or anything. If Grievous or Sidious captures me, I’m screwed. I don’t wanna put you all in danger like that. I really should’ve stayed at the temple.”

He sighed. “Fear is not the Jedi way, Katie.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. But saying that doesn’t make the fear go away, which is something you guys never seemed to understand. I mean, my brain is literally hardwired to feel more anxious than other humans’. I know I have Force ability, and I know I can trust my instincts, but I also know that I’m the training equivalent of a six-year-old and couldn’t beat a probe droid. And yeah, that makes me really frickin’ nervous. Therefore, I think it would be wiser for me to stay on the ship so I don’t freeze up or get underfoot. You and the Bad Batch can handle him without me. I think.”

“Actually,” Windu said, “I was planning to send you to find U’mera while we keep Grievous occupied.”

I whirled my chair around to face him. “And you waited until now to mention that?”

“Well, you’ve been giving all the orders. I thought maybe you would come up with it on your own.” His mouth curved up in a little smirk.

Swiveling forward again, I tried my best to be annoyed instead of worried. “Hmph. Rude.”

The blue streams of hyperspace travel were normally calming to watch, but they did little to still my racing heart now. Grievous wasn’t even the biggest of the Big Bads, but he definitely wasn’t to be underestimated. I had to keep reminding myself that Windu was a strong and capable Jedi; that the Bad Batchers were incredible warriors; that everything would be fine.

“You seem to trust in everyone’s abilities but your own,” Windu noted, finally glancing at me.

I didn’t bother denying it. “I’ve always been overly cautious,” I said. “And I don’t need you to tell me it’s detrimental. I’m not really cut out for the Jedi life.”

“Not every Jedi is the same. You will find your path.”

Frickin’ Windu. Did he ever speak like a normal person, or was he always gonna sound like fortune cookies? I didn’t need sage words of monkish wisdom right now, dude... I needed to feel safe amongst friends. Gosh, I wished the Bad Batch were already here.

We made the rest of the jump in relative silence, which was both a relief and an annoyance to me. Windu was no longer trying to inspire me with vague Jedi proverbs, but he also didn’t bother to make conversation with his obviously nervous companion. Man. This current generation of Jedi might be able to sense other people’s emotions, but they really didn’t know what to do with them.

When at last we reached our rendezvous with Clone Force 99, where the Marauder already waited for us, I was at least doing better at pretending I was okay. Still totally scared underneath, but faking serenity. Look at me, I thought, I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi!

A message from the boys’ attack shuttle came in, and then Hunter’s holographic torso blinked into view on the dashboard. “Glad you could finally join us, General,” he said. “What are your orders?”

I smiled faintly. Finally? They couldn’t have been here more than a minute. But I didn’t mind; even a little sarcasm was very welcome.

“There’s a Separatist light cruiser about two parsecs away,” Windu told him. “We believe General Grievous is holding a Jedi Knight hostage there.”

Hunter nodded, but he paused when he noticed that I was here, too. “Arina? What are you doing here?”

With a sigh, I glanced up at the stoic Jedi beside me. “Master Windu thought it would be ‘instructive.’”

Hunter frowned. “You sure that’s a good idea, sir?”

Maybe I should’ve been offended, but it was weirdly nice to hear someone finally acknowledge my inadequacy instead of just insisting “I could do it.”

“We’re a little short on Jedi at the moment,” Windu admitted. “We’ll have to make it work.”

“I told him to leave me on the ship,” I said, “but he’s an idiot. I’ll be grabbing Master Syuni while you guys play with Grievous.”

Hunter folded his arms. “I don’t like it. Someone should go with you as protection.”

“I’m going to need all of your help with Grievous and his MagnaGuards,” Windu said.

“Don’t worry,” Hunter replied with a proud grin. “My squad can handle a few fancy clankers.”

Across the distance between our ships, Wrecker waved at me through the shuttle’s windshield. I waved back, but I shook my head at the clone sergeant.

“Don’t get overconfident, Hunter,” I warned. “You guys are incredible fighters, but these aren’t just commando droids. Even experienced Jedi have a hard time with them. Also, Grievous can fight with four lightsabers and crawl on ceilings. Windu’s right: he’ll need all of you.”

“All the same, I’m sending Tech with you, Arina.”

I flushed a little in gratitude, knowing I couldn’t change his mind. “Thanks.” Yep, definitely gratitude and nothing else—certainly not pleasure at Hunter’s desire to protect me. Nope, not at all. He still barely knew me, and he thought that I was hopeless on my own, yet he cared about me and wanted me safe. Just a whole lotta solid gratitude.

Fortunately, Windu was too busy strategizing to sense my very non-Code-approved feelings. “Fine,” he said. “We may come under a lot of fire once we’re within scanning range. I’ll do my best to get you to the hangar in one piece.”

Hunter cast a smirk to the side, probably at Tech in the pilot’s chair. “Not gonna be a problem, sir.”

“Very well. Once we’ve taken out the droids inside, we’ll head to the command deck to draw Grievous’s forces away while ‘Arina’ and Tech find our captured friend.”

Wrecker laughed and poked his head into the hologram. “Well, what’re we waiting for? Race you to the hangar!”

As Echo shoved him back into his seat, Hunter nodded and said, “Let’s go save that Jedi.”

As expected, a couple dozen fighters were sent out to intercept us on approach, but Master Windu and the Bad Batch made quick work of them before speeding into the hangar on Grievous’s light cruiser. I waited inside the freighter until they took care of the droids in the hangar, too, then I hurried down the ramp to begin my suicide mission.

“Sounds like the alarm has been triggered,” Windu said. “Let’s get going, troopers.”

Tech came to me with datapad in hand while his brothers joined Master Windu. “I’ve tapped into the ship’s security system,” he announced. “All camera feeds from here to the detention block are on a loop. They won’t see us coming.”

I grinned. “See, this is why I like working with you guys. I didn’t even have to ask. Oh! Just so you guys know, Grievous’s internal organs are extremely flammable. Tons of armor in the way, but if you can get his chestplate open, light him up. Just avoid the spinning lightsabers.”

“Good to know,” Hunter said. “Let’s make this quick. Comm us if you have any trouble.”

I saluted him with a soft giggle. “I would say to leave some clankers for me, but I’d probably just die. Good luck, boys.”

He gave me a look that was something between a grimace and a smirk. Then, the seven of us split ways, with everyone else heading up to the command deck while Tech and I ran toward the detention level. Anytime we hit a locked door, Tech would slice it with one of his toys. We had to hide around the corner several times on our route as battle droids rushed past, but we weren’t spotted. Whatever Windu and the boys were doing, they’d definitely gotten everyone’s attention fast.

“I understand that there is a shortage of able bodies in this war,” Tech muttered as he worked on another door lock. “However, I do not see how bringing you along was a good idea. You don’t even possess a lightsaber.”

I shrugged. “Windu is convinced that I’ll manifest more Force abilities in self-defense. Totally possible, but I’m not banking on it.”

“Hmm. Let’s hope we won’t have to test that theory.”

“I do have a blaster, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not particularly.”

I chuckled and elbowed his side. I knew he wasn’t trying to offend me; like Hunter, he was worried about me and wanted to keep me safe.

Once the door opened, we resumed our journey deeper into the cruiser, until at last we found the prison cells. These, unfortunately, were still guarded, but Tech managed to get rid of the droids before they could alert anyone else to our presence. As he electrocuted the last of them, I stepped over their still-twitching metal bodies to the door they’d been guarding.

“Hmm—tons of guards specifically protecting this door,” I said. “Must be absolutely empty, right?”

Tech got the door open, and my facetious smile tightened. A young Pantoran Jedi hovered in a containment field in the center of the room, her blue skin covered in dark bruises and her head hanging limp. She didn’t move at all.

“U’mera Syuni?” I asked. “Can you hear me?”

Tech scanned her with one of his devices. “She is alive,” he said, “but we should get her to a medical station soon. Her heart rate is exceptionally fast—I suspect they used the containment field to administer torturous shocks.”

I destroyed the field with my blaster, and we both caught her as she crumpled. Despite sensing that she was awake, I could feel her consciousness drifting in and out of focus, and she was so weak that I’d have to drag her back to the ship.

“I’ve got you, U’mera,” I said, wrapping her arms around my neck from behind. “Tech, let’s go.”

Thanks to what little Jedi training I had received, I was able to tap into the Force now for slightly increased agility, strength, and speed. It wasn’t much, but at least I was traveling the same speed as before and wasn’t slowed by U’mera’s added weight. Once we were underway, Tech pushed a button on his wrist comm to signal that our mission was accomplished. No response, of course—not only would the guys be too busy fighting, but they couldn’t reply and let Grievous suspect that there were others onboard. Still, the radio silence made me nervous.

“Do you think they’re all right?” I asked.

“Judging from their lack of response,” Tech said, “Grievous is still alive, which means he has proven to be a more difficult adversary than hoped. I haven’t heard Wrecker blow anything up yet, but still, it is very likely that they are in trouble.”

I appreciated that he hadn’t sugarcoated anything, but his reply definitely didn’t help my mounting panic. My boys were out there somewhere, fighting General Cough Drop himself, and I couldn’t even comm to ask if they were still alive. I clenched my jaw in frustration.

“Go help them, Tech.”

He studied me. “Are you sure?”

“Go,” I repeated with a frown. “I feel... like they’re in danger. Maybe it’s just my anxiety, but please. I can run these last few halls on my own. Go help your brothers.”

He nodded and broke off to find Windu and the Bad Batch, leaving me and U’mera alone. We made it back to the hangar without incident—no droidekas, battle droids, or extra alarms. No contact from my friends, either. When I got the dazed Pantoran situated on our XS freighter and I still hadn’t heard back, I started to pace.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” I muttered. “It’s not like it’s General freaking Grievous or anything. I’m sure they’re on their way back right now and just all forgot to comm in, you know, as you do, and—”

I glanced over at U’mera, who had finally opened her eyes and was trying to focus on me through her loose white hair.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said. “You don’t need all this stress. I’m a pretty sorry excuse for a Jedi, huh? I should be meditating or something instead of pacing like a maniac.”

Drawing in a deep breath, I stopped in my tracks and sat down right in the middle of the cockpit floor. I was getting a lot better at meditating, redirecting the ADHD thoughts into cooler and more controlled paths. Feeling the flow of energy around me, how the Force breathed in and out like the ebb and flow of time. Listening to nothing, and yet everything. Sensing...

My gaze snapped to U’mera’s as we both inhaled sharply. Danger. Imminent death. Not Grievous’s.

“Wait here,” I ordered.

I sprang to my feet and darted from the ship so quickly that if the woman did respond, I didn’t hear it. Not my clones, you don’t! Beyond the first doorway, I didn’t really know how to get to the command deck, so I clung to the Force the way I imagined Hunter tracked a scent. Granted, I also had a haphazard trail of broken clankers to follow, which helped. Eventually, I could feel sentient beings ahead—several—all frustrated and fighting and some getting very tired. I sensed fear and anger, and that one of them had been knocked out.

When I turned the last corner, I found the doors to the command deck ripped open and sparking brightly, their closure blocked by the mangled remains of two MagnaGuards on the floor. Inside, electricity crackled from shattered computer consoles and the two remaining guards’ staves, filling the air with a smoky tang. Scrapped battle droids were strewn every which way, getting further kicked aside with each step of the men battling across the room. Wrecker grappled one MagnaGuard, Tech and Crosshair fought the other, and Echo and Hunter engaged the metal general himself. Against the right wall, Master Windu lay unconscious.

Grievous was down an arm, but he still held his own against the two outmatched clones. The two sabers in his hands were purple and orange—Windu’s and I assumed U’mera’s. I saw my boys’ burns and bruises, and I sensed pain. Who was about to die? What could I possibly do? They were all moving so fast that my eyes couldn’t follow the fight. At least no one had noticed me in the doorway.

Windu, wake up, I thought. I don’t have the training to help them myself. Please, Windu, just wake up!

I thought I felt a connection somehow, like I was touching his soul although his body was ten yards away. I could reach him! Intensifying my thoughts, I began projecting my emotions as well while I continued thinking, Windu, wake up. Windu, wake up. Windu, wake up.

The Jedi Master stirred slightly, his fingers twitching as a quiet moan escaped his lips. I projected urgency, fear, helplessness, need—everything that a Jedi would instinctively respond to. From the freighter, I felt U’mera join me in chanting to him through the Force. Windu, wake up. Windu, wake up. Windu, wake up. Windu, wake up.

But different ripples through the Force interrupted me, the screams of an immediate future—not my future but my screams —and I looked up from my meditation just in time to—

No!

Hunter was flat on his back under Grievous’s foot, the wind knocked out of him and all weapons gone. Echo tried to intervene, but Grievous caught him by his cybernetic arm, crushed it, and sent the clone hurtling across the room. Then, laughing and spinning his stolen sabers like floor-gouging helicopter blades, the general made to cut off Hunter’s head.

Not my Hunter!

Both lightsabers stuttered, froze, and then whipped to the side as I Force-yanked them from the metal warrior’s grip. Switching off in midair, they landed solidly in my hands. I didn’t know what to do next—I-I still couldn’t control the Force very well—and h-he was General Grievous —but I couldn’t let him hurt Hunter. I couldn’t watch him kill my clones.

Grievous’s slitted yellow eyes narrowed on me. “Another Jedi,” he rasped with interest.

“Arina,” Hunter choked out, still struggling for breath under the general’s crushing weight. “Arina, run.”

But I couldn’t move. Gone were the memories of cheesy animation and comical defeats. Gone were the jokes about windmill arms and mistimed coughs. Grievous was hulking, and angry, and barely even dented, and I was one tiny padawan in the vast deep void of space, too frozen to even activate a lightsaber. Nobody else could help. I was going to die.

A chuckle sounded deep in Grievous’s robot throat. “Not much of a challenge, I see. It will be easy to tear you apart.”

“Don’t hurt my boys,” I whispered. Every inch of me was trembling. “D-don’t hurt my boys.”

Grievous roughly kicked the sergeant aside and stalked closer to me, relishing my drawn-out terror and the fact that I had three weapons now but couldn’t even use them. I could only watch his approach with unblinking eyes and shaking fingers. Lifting one clawed foot, he pinned me against the doorframe and flexed his three remaining arms in a menacing pose.

“So weak,” he said. “You cannot save them, Jedi.” He coughed then, but the glare never lessened. “You can’t save anybody.”

Out of nowhere, Hunter appeared with his recovered vibro-knife and lunged for the two metal arms closest to him. Grievous backhanded him away, but the clone sergeant still managed to sever both robotic limbs. As Hunter flew backward into a saber-sliced console, Grievous howled with rage. Then, Wrecker, who had just defeated his MagnaGuard adversary, tackled the droid general from behind and proceeded to wrench Grievous’s chest plates open. Grievous tried to retaliate with his one remaining hand, only for a newly-awakened Windu to catch it with the Force.

Seeing my boys fight so hard to save me sparked something in my chest—sparked mobility —and I switched on Windu and Syuni’s lightsabers. Then, as Wrecker exposed Grievous’s very flammable gut-sack in front of me, I stabbed the blades into the general’s heart.

A horrible shriek emanated from his vocabulator as flames exploded inside his chest cavity and spread up to his skull. Wrecker and Windu released him. Unfortunately, I was still clutched in one taloned foot, and when the agony made Grievous writhe and crumple, I got slammed so hard against the floor that I blacked out.

When the general finally died seconds later, the last MagnaGuard shut down, allowing Tech and Crosshair a moment to catch their breath. But the room wasn’t still. So many computer systems had been damaged that the cruiser’s self-destruct was activated, giving a countdown of just a few minutes. Hunter ran to my side and fruitlessly tried to wake me.

“Arina,” he yelled. “Arina! Katie!”

I gasped and lurched upright, grabbing his arm. Everything swayed at first, and I was in pain, and I couldn’t quite recall where I was. As the scent of blood filled Hunter’s nostrils, he scowled to realize that there was a long gash down my right leg from Grievous’s talon. We had to get out of here fast, and I couldn’t walk.

When I realized who was in front of me, I threw my arms around him tightly. Hunter! Hunter was alive—he was all right. Memory was quick to return, and then I resumed shaking all over, accidentally projecting all the panic as I remembered it. A moment too late, I shut off the projection and peeled myself away from him.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I shouldn’t have—”

“C’mere,” he said. He pulled me back against his chest, guiding my arms around his neck so he could more easily lift me off the floor. My leg screamed in pain at the movement, making me flinch and grip him tighter.

The rest of the group helped each other to their feet, with Windu grabbing Grievous’s many stolen lightsabers, and then everyone took off running. The way to the hangar was still clear, thank the Force, since the clankers onboard were all either dead or racing to the escape pods.

“Get out of here, General,” Hunter told Windu. “We’ll patch up Arina and bring her back to the temple.”

Windu nodded. “May the Force be with you.”

As we boarded our respective ships, I still couldn’t quite wrap my aching head around what had just happened. Grievous was dead—really and truly dead. Granted, it hadn’t been as satisfying as his archnemesis shooting him in the heart five times, but still. We had killed General Grievous.

One Big Bad down, two to go.

Chapter Text

Windu and U’mera took off in the XS freighter while the rest of us left in the attack shuttle, all of us clearing the area just in time to avoid blowing up with the cruiser. I was too dazed to enjoy the light show, but Wrecker’s laughter from the gunner’s mount sounded pleased. Behind me, I heard Echo pull out a toolbox to start working on his crushed scomp arm. Meanwhile, Crosshair looked for the medical supplies.

Hunter set me down in one of the swivel chairs and removed his helmet. “Deep breaths,” he said. “This will hurt.”

I gritted my teeth while he poked and prodded my injured leg to ensure that no debris had gotten caught in the gash. To distract myself, I tugged off my gloves and twisted them around in my lap. When Crosshair brought over the med kit, Hunter dug out an absorbent pad and pressed it against the back of my head, where I’d hit the ground.

“Hold this,” he ordered.

I obeyed. “Thank you, Hunter.”

A muscle worked in his jaw, and he didn’t respond. I felt the pulse of his own gratitude, along with concern and even a little anger—probably all related to my idiotic decision to join the fight against the droid general. While I had saved his life and helped them kill Grievous, my actions had also put everyone in danger by adding an untrained and inexperienced character to the board, not to mention the fact that I’d nearly gotten myself killed when I froze up. And knowing Hunter, if that had happened, he would have held himself personally responsible.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” I said quietly.

He sighed. “You almost died.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

With gentle fingers at odds with his frustration, he cupped my chin and tilted my face to the left and right. “Looks like there’s no concussion,” he said, studying my eyes. “Just some blood and a bruise.”

“Which were my fault, by the way,” I reminded him, “not yours, so you can stop blaming yourself.”

He ignored my comment, or at least pretended to, and continued inspecting my injuries. When he came across the scars on my right palm and fingers, he traced his thumb over the marks with a frown.

“It’s nothing,” I said. “Zabrak children have really sharp horns.”

“What were you doing on Dathomir, anyway?” he asked. “I mean, you said you weren’t a Jedi then. Why risk angering those witches like that?”

One corner of my lips pulled up. “I had to begin building my reputation as a reckless maniac sometime. Seemed like a good place to start.”

Hunter grimaced as he turned his attention to my leg. “I honestly don’t know how you’ve survived this long,” he muttered. He pulled out a stim and some cleaning solution, then removed my torn boot and grabbed the bottom of my pant leg. “I need to roll this up. Try not to flinch.”

I nodded and braced myself. Moving the fabric caused pain to jolt through my limb, but I hissed in a breath and held as still as possible. The gash extended from my ankle all the way up my calf to my lower thigh. I should probably feel embarrassed that the guy I liked could see so much of my bare leg, but I sensed that such thoughts were far from his mind. He was in medic mode now, just patching up a soldier after a battle. Well—grumpy medic mode.

I couldn’t help thinking about how he’d called me “Katie” back there. How good it had felt to be known as myself again, if only for an instant. But then, as Hunter injected me with the pain-reliever stim and a wince brought me back to reality, I wilted a little. Hunter didn’t really know me; none of them did. Strange, considering I felt more like myself with them than anywhere else. But there were too many secrets in the way for them to truly know me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You’re doing fine,” Hunter said. “It always stings a little.”

I swallowed and looked away. “Not that. I’m sorry I lied.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. I’m sure the Jedi have all sorts of secrets.”

“Not like this,” I said quietly, “and I never wanted to have secrets from you. It was just so risky, and I couldn’t say things, and... I’m so sorry. I’m so tired. It’s... exhausting being the most dangerous nobody in the galaxy.”

Crosshair snorted. “Right. Dangerous.”

“Well,” Wrecker said, “she did just kill General Grievous.”

“Only cuz you were holding him down,” Echo pointed out.

“Yeah I was!”

There was a loud beep from the cockpit, and then Tech turned back to call, “Incoming transmission.”

I forced back the regret with a deep breath. “Probably Windu,” I said. “I hope everything’s all right.”

But the hologram that popped up on the console next to me definitely wasn’t Master Windu. It was Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, with yellow eyes and a blackened smudge on his chin that I suspected was a lightsaber burn. Instantly, I sat up straighter. Hunter scowled at me for moving, but I ignored him.

Palpatine. He was alive, though the burn implied that his fight with the Jedi (and maybe Ventress) had indeed taken place. Who had won? Had he succeeded in turning Anakin? And... oh, heck. There could only be one reason he was calling a clone ship while still sporting yellow eyes. I’d even known it was coming, yet having the moment finally upon us still filled me with a powerful righteous rage.

“Execute Order 66,” he rasped, his voice crackly and evil. He didn’t make eye contact, which meant it must be a generic, mass-producible recording like in the movie.

He was trying to strip the army of their free will. To rape their minds and make helpless puppets of them all. With a hard glare at the prerecorded transmission, I growled, “Go die, Palpatine.”

Echo looked up from his cybernetic repairs in surprise, and Hunter and Tech also paused their work, taken aback by the venom in my voice. I sensed some amusement from Crosshair, but even he seemed a little thrown.

Wrecker scratched his head. “Uhh, what’s Order 66?”

“Tech,” I said, “patch me through to Master Windu. This is urgent.”

Confused, Tech did as I asked, and soon Palpatine’s face was replaced by the Jedi Master’s. “What is it?” Windu asked.

“Sidious just triggered Order 66,” I told him, “which means Anakin’s mission either went really well or really badly. See if you can contact him or the others and make sure they’re okay.”

Windu’s expression hardened. “Are you safe?”

“Don’t worry, my boys got the inhibitor chips out a month ago. I haven’t felt anything bad Force-wise, but I’m not as attuned as—hang on.” My wrist comm was blinking. “Arina here.”

The connection was choppy, but I heard, “Ari... are you? Why ar... Coruscant?”

“Anakin?” I asked. “Thank the Force. Tech, can you boost the signal?”

Tech left Crosshair in the cockpit and came back to tinker with my comlink. After plugging it into the computer panel and messing with a few buttons, Anakin’s holographic figure appeared beside Windu’s on the console. Judging from visual cues, he seemed to be boarding a ship with at least one other person, and he wasn’t happy. Heck, I needed to calm down so I didn’t fuel his anger.

“Where are you?” he demanded.

“Windu and I went to rescue U’mera Syuni,” I said. “Grievous is dead, and we’re en route to Coruscant. Are you all right?”

He claimed to be fine, but there was a dark look in his eyes that I didn’t like. “Dooku is dead,” he said, “but Sidious got away.”

“Padmé?”

“Safe.”

I was afraid to ask. “And everyone else?”

He glanced behind him. “Yoda and Plo are fine, but Master Mundi needs immediate medical help. The fighters were destroyed, so we’ve got Ventress with us, too. Padmé thinks we should find a hospital frigate.”

Hunter had begun cleaning my gash, and I grunted at the antiseptic’s burn. A hospital frigate didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Windu nodded. “That would be wise.”

“But Palpatine’s still out there!” Anakin cried, his image jostling as he tossed the holoprojector atop the dashboard of his ship. “We have to stop him before he tries to kill anyone else! Arina, where would he go?”

He looked ready to punch in coordinates and fly off to finish what he’d started, and with only one ship, that would mean dragging everyone else along with him. He was in full Reckless Mode, which right now was just about the worst thing he could possibly be.

“You have your orders, Skywalker,” Windu said.

Ugh, this guy. He really didn’t know how to handle Anakin’s emotions, did he? “He’s already triggered Order 66,” I told Anakin. “My guess is he won’t make another move until he realizes that it didn’t work. You should have more than enough time to get Ki-Adi to a hospital.”

“But he’s dangerous! We have to go after—”

“Anakin.” I gripped my free hand into a fist. Breathe. “If you go after him in your current state, he will win. I am asking you to wait until he shows his hand.”

The Bad Batchers were exchanging nervous looks, and I sensed their overwhelm and alarm at the things they’d just heard. Palpatine killing people? The Jedi attacking the supreme chancellor?! Heck, I had a lot of explaining to do once this transmission was over.

“That’s why you called me, right?” I asked. “To learn what I know and use it to defeat him? Well, I’m telling you that if you, Anakin Skywalker, chase after him when you’re all riled up, it’ll play right into his hands. He’s counting on your anger leading you back to him. And I know you’re not weak enough to fall for a ploy like that.”

Windu started to interrupt, but I held up my hand.

“Shut up, Mace; you’re giving me a headache. Ani, that future I told you about, where you turn Dark—that future isn’t gone yet. So, if not for my sake, then for Padmé’s: take a break. Right now, she needs you with her, not chasing down demons.”

Anakin scowled and looked away. I could feel his restless energy, his need to do something about this threat instead of sitting back like the Council so often did—and his anger and determination still boiled far too close to the surface. Oh, honey.

I chewed on the inside of my lip and adjusted the bandage on my head. “With Dooku and Grievous dead, the Separatist military will be in chaos. The droids are probably still active, but it’ll take time for them to figure out who’s giving the orders now. Did you plant a camera like I suggested?”

“We did,” Anakin said, still sounding snappish. “It’s broadcasting on a loop to everyone in the galaxy.”

“Thank you. Now, I need you guys to check on your troops and make sure that all of their inhibitor chips are out. I won’t let Palpatine have those boys. And... and please, take care of Master Mundi somehow.”

Anakin exhaled, grinding his teeth, but the fury was gradually giving way to sullenness. I sensed Padmé at the forefront of his thoughts. After a moment, he turned his head to the side and asked, “Master Yoda?”

He was asking for someone else to make the call. Asking for help. It honestly surprised me, and I was so proud and relieved that my underlying anger began to ebb away.

The green Grandmaster appeared in the hologram and nodded to me and Windu. “To the hospital, we will go,” he decided. “Afterward, meet you at the temple, we will.”

I nodded back in tired gratitude. “Bring Padmé to the temple, too. She’ll be safer there. Thank you, Anakin.”

“May the Force be with you,” Yoda said.

Chapter Text

When the three-way call ended, I slumped in my seat. So much was happening at once, and the Jedi all expected my help until it was over. I supposed it was the least I could do after they’d been warring for two years and living in perpetual exhaustion, but still. I’d borne a galaxy’s weight on my shoulders for too long already.

Echo had dropped his tools. “I... didn’t realize you led the Council, Arina.”

I knew it wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but his thoughts couldn’t seem to form into words yet. “I don’t,” I told him. “I just know more about the situation than they do.”

“So...” Wrecker said, rubbing his head, “Palpatine’s a Separatist?”

My own head was aching more by the minute. “Not exactly,” I replied. “If you find that video broadcast, it should answer some questions.”

Crosshair put the ship on autopilot and joined us as Tech pulled up the now-public camera feed from the Jedi’s confrontation with Sidious and Tyranus, which had taken place in a riverside factory on Mustafar. The boys watched in shocked silence as Anakin revealed the so-called political rivals’ conspiracy to cripple the galaxy with war and accused them of being evil Sith lords, and then the horror grew as lightsabers ignited and a battle ensued. Not only did Palpatine and Dooku not deny the accusations, but they made it very clear through dialogue and actions that every word was true. Padmé was rescued, Dooku died, Mundi lost two limbs and a chunk of his pointy head (the first injury led to the other two), and everyone got electrocuted at least once by a raging Sidious. In the end, the Dark Lord of the Sith unleashed a powerful Force blast that crippled the facility they were standing in, allowing him to escape while everyone was distracted with fleeing the river of lava.

When the loop started over again, Tech turned it off. I could feel the boys’ inner turmoil of disbelief and revulsion as they processed everything. However, perhaps most painful to me was their spark of hurt at not being trusted with this information sooner.

Hunter had finished bandaging me up and risen to his feet. “How long have you known?” he asked. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but his thoughts were.

“Almost all my life,” I admitted. “When Palpatine found out I knew the truth, he hired someone to kill me. The Jedi Council helped me fake my death, and then they brought me to the temple under a new identity. To be honest, I’m still not sure if I’m under their protection, or if they’re under mine. I’ve been using my knowledge to save people ever since I arrived.”

I had hoped that finally telling the truth would be freeing for me. Why did it hurt so much? Keeping everything secret had been my idea, so I could protect the galaxy and everyone in it from an early detonation of Palpatine’s plan. I had known from the beginning that some people, especially clones, would feel betrayed when they learned that the Jedi had knowingly allowed his evil to continue for a while. Actually feeling the Bad Batch’s sense of injury now shouldn’t... shouldn’t hurt this much.

I fidgeted with the gloves in my lap. “I know you feel betrayed. I-I know it sounds messed up, us knowing but never telling anyone. The thing is, if we had told you, and Palpatine found out, he would’ve—” Heck, even now it made me too upset. “Order 66 is meant to activate the kill switches. It would’ve turned the entire Republic army into mind-controlled slaves. I couldn’t let that happen. Lying was my idea, so we could get them out before he found out we knew.”

“Mind control?” Echo repeated. “We were told they were bombs.”

“Another lie,” I confessed. “I asked Omega not to correct it. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to set the record straight now. Even though you’ll think I’m crazy for it.”

I could subtly project my honesty as I spoke, to try and convince them, but I wouldn’t do that to my boys. They deserved the freedom to believe me or not of their own volition. When they nodded for me to continue, I steeled myself.

I told them my story—how I was from another galaxy and didn’t used to be a Jedi. How I’d known about them before we ever met. I told them about inhibitor chips and the rise of the Empire. About Omega, and the Nightbrothers, and Chancellor Palpatine. As I’d promised back on Master Tapal’s cruiser, I answered every question they posed, revealed every secret except Anakin and Padmé’s.

“Until Palpatine was stopped or he figured out we knew,” I said, “secrecy was crucial. Since he’s supreme chancellor—o-or was, at least; the Senate’s probably changed their minds since the video—he had so much power, and eyes and ears everywhere. Anyone knowing what I knew was risky, and I wouldn’t put anyone unnecessarily in danger.”

Hunter frowned. “You mean, you just carried all that risk yourself? For three months?”

Echo leaned against the console. “You always did seem kind of nervous.”

“Less so around you guys,” I admitted. “I-I always wanted to be your friend, you know. To talk to you all, and get to know you better. Even before I came here, I always... thought we’d get along.” I bit my lip, only somewhat surprised to find it trembling. “Really made it hurt, though. Knowing we could be friends, but having to stay away so the galaxy could be safe. I mean, i-if I have to be alone so you guys can be free, it’s totally worth it, I just—I hadn’t really considered that when I started all this.” I giggled tearily. “Really sucks. Especially feeling how much it hurts you. Aaaand that sounded really manipulative, didn’t it? Sorry. Again.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Stop apologizing.”

“He’s right,” Echo said. “You were just trying to look out for us.”

I laughed a little and rubbed my nose. “Do I have to stop? It’s distracting me from my leg.”

Hunter smiled. Their emotions had changed since the conversation’s beginning. Had softened. I could feel their protectiveness returning in force, wrapping me in warmth, and I greedily drank it in. They weren’t angry. They didn’t blame me or think I was crazy.

“So what is your name?” Echo asked.

When a sniffle made me stumble over my answer, Tech—his eyes glued, as always, to his datapad—replied, “Katie Ortega.”

Wrecker’s brows drew together. “Hey, wait. How do you know that?”

“Simple. She told us a hotel gas leak ‘killed’ her three months ago; I merely looked up all deceased persons reports from hotels near the Jedi temple and narrowed it down by her given name, which we already knew.”

“W-we did?” Wrecker asked, clearly having understood only the last few words. “Since when?”

Tech glanced up to give him a blank look. “It could not have been more obvious.”

I chuckled. “Master Windu mentioned it while I was on Kamino, Wrecker; he’s terrible at using people’s code names. I am a little surprised that you went to such trouble, though, Tech. You literally could’ve just asked.”

“Nah,” Hunter said with a smirk. “If it’s a choice between research and social interaction, Tech will pick the datapad every time.”

“Ah, primary sources not good enough for you. I see.”

“You were still describing our alternate future with Omega,” Tech said. “I did not want to interrupt.”

Feeling amused, Hunter knelt to adjust my bandages again, then he unrolled my pant leg over them for propriety’s sake. He checked my head injury next, his hands somehow even gentler than before. As he worked, I felt a sudden powerful urge to throw my arms around him again. We’d both cheated death today, and despite my deceptions, he didn’t think any less of me; I was so relieved I could cry.

“The bleeding’s stopped,” he observed. “You’ll probably have a lump for a few days, but you won’t need stitches. How’s your vision?”

“Fine. Thank you.”

“So, you really don’t know how you got here?”

I shook my head, then immediately regretted it. “Mmh, nope. I’m guessing it probably has to do with Loth-wolves or ‘the will of the Force’ or something.”

Echo had resumed rebuilding his arm. “Don’t you ever miss your old galaxy?”

“Eh, only a little,” I confessed. “The culture shock hits a bit hard sometimes, and I miss my old favorite foods, but I didn’t really leave anybody behind. Kinda weird knowing I’ll be an unsolved missing persons case, though.”

“What’re you gonna do when this is over?” Hunter asked. “I mean, after we defeat Palpatine and end the war.”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know. Take a break, for sure, but then... just keep training, I guess. I’d like to help the galaxy rebuild, and it would be nice to get some reform started in the Order.” Then, I remembered all the knowledge I had yet to act on: Maul, the Martez sisters, Anakin’s secret marriage, the slaves on Kessel, Outer Rim crime families... “Also, there’s some loose ends that need tying up.”

Hunter chuckled quietly and shook his head.

“What?”

“You really are such a Jedi,” he said. “Let us know if we can help with anything.”

I smiled. Not only was he not angry anymore, but he was willing to spend time with me again in the future. “Will do, Sergeant.”

Chapter Text

We met up with Anakin’s party at the temple after they dropped off Master Mundi. He was in pain, but he’d live (with some fun new cybernetic limbs). Padmé had a couple of cuts and bruises that her husband kept fussing over, and everyone looked tired, but other than that, they were all right. Unsurprisingly, Ventress stood apart from the rest of the group. The Bad Batch had fashioned me a crutch out of some spare metal parts, so I was able to greet the Jedi, senator, and ex-Sith bounty hunter standing up.

I gestured to Ventress with my chin. “‘Bounty hunter’ is a good look on you,” I said. “Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”

She cast a side glance at the Jedi she’d arrived with. “I didn’t expect the Jedi to offer a chance for vengeance.”

“Times change,” I said with a half-shrug, “and some people need taking out. I’m sorry for what he did to you, by the way. You deserved better.”

Confusion rippled through her mind before she shielded it from me—she didn’t understand why I’d care unless I was a fool. Then, she plastered smooth annoyance onto her face and rolled her eyes at me. “Jedi are so naive.”

I sighed and eyed the Jedi Masters. “You have no idea.”

Once Master Plo had paid her, Ventress rented a speeder and disappeared into the Coruscant underworld. She didn’t look back or say anything else, but I sensed her thoughts lingering on me as she raced away, wondering why I’d been kind and conversational. Ha. Accidentally befriending Asajj Ventress had not been in my plans for the week, but it made me smile. Maybe someday, she’d even learn to trust people again.

A couple of Councilmembers were able to join us via hologram to discuss our next move. For lack of anything better to do while we handled political and Jedi business, the Bad Batchers chatted quietly and cleaned their gear, with Echo resuming his cybernetic repair. No one had ordered them to stay, but they wanted to stick around in case we needed their skills to help with Palpatine.

After a long discussion, and once I was sure that Anakin’s fury was under control, the Council, senator, and I decided that the best course of action would be to end the war quickly and then draw Palpatine out of hiding. Padmé contacted Bail Organa to have him push the Senate toward a peace treaty, considering everyone now knew the war had been the Sith’s idea, and both sides had been played. Like her, Bail had some old friends amongst the Separatist senators, so he was able to reach out and ask them to consider accepting this attempt at peace. I expected it to take anywhere from a day to a week for either legislature to come to an agreement—if it happened at all—so I was surprised when, less than half an hour later, we were informed that the Republic Senate had voted in favor of a treaty. Apparently, they were so shocked at learning the truth that it had finally tipped them over the edge; they would not fight the Sith’s war.

Before they could officially extend their olive branch, however, Organa’s Separatist contacts informed him of a disturbing development: everyone in the Executive Separatist Council had just been murdered. There were no security cameras on location to capture the attacker’s identity, but the use of a lightsaber and several cues indicating lightning use implicated Darth Sidious in the crime. Unfortunately for the Sith lord, he didn’t yet know about the secret camera that had revealed his true nature to the galaxy—he was too busy scheming to scroll the holonet—so he must’ve assumed that this attack would be brushed off as Jedi activity. Still, even though the Separatist Senate didn’t blame the Jedi, the loss of their Council (after already losing Grievous and Dooku) sealed the Confederacy’s loss in the war as a whole.

“Why would he do that?” Padmé asked.

“It’s part of his original plan,” I said. “He must not know yet about the broadcast, or the inhibitor chips. In his mind, he just has to wait until the clones finish off the Jedi, then he can return to an unsuspecting Senate as supreme chancellor over the entire galaxy. Cue the Imperial March, he reigns eternal, blah blah blah.”

“We have to shut off that broadcast,” Anakin said. “We can’t let him know his plan failed.”

I hummed in thought. “He might already suspect, given that there weren’t millions of screams through the Force after Order 66. He’s pretty smart. But you do have a point—knowing something he doesn’t gives us a leg up on him. Tech, can you stop the broadcast?”

“Already on it,” the clone replied.

“I still don’t know how we’re going to lure him out of hiding,” Obi-Wan said, grabbing his holographic blue beard in thought. “He knows Anakin won’t turn to the Dark Side now.”

“Does he?” I asked. “He’s been manipulating Anakin for years and knows his weak points. Plus, last he checked, Anakin was really frickin’ angry. I imagine if he has a chance to get Ani alone, he’s gonna take it.”

“You’re suggesting we let Anakin take him on alone?”

“I’m suggesting we make Sidious think he’s gonna fight him alone. Then once he’s there, all the other Jedi will show up, too. I’m just not sure how to catch him unawares.”

“We could send out a message,” Padmé suggested, “telling all surviving Jedi to return to the temple to protect the younglings. We’ll make it sound like the clones are attacking and there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Anakin nodded in approval. “If it’s urgent enough, he’ll think the clones are succeeding, and we’re desperate.”

“Then Anakin can lure him to the Senate building!” I said. “Make him think that while the other Jedi are either dead or protecting the temple, you’re unhinged and want revenge for his kidnapping Padmé. Maybe ask Mas Amedda to contact him—oh yeah, he totally knows about Palpatine. You might... Ani, you might have to get actually angry so Palps will sense it, but be careful you don’t lose control. After the public message calling people to the temple, we’ll send scrambled messages for all the Jedi Knights and Masters to come fight Sidious at the Senate building. In theory, there will be so many politicians there that he won’t sense the added Jedi until it’s too late.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “That will put thousands of senators in danger.”

“Which is why we’ll call all the Knights and Masters,” I replied. “The Masters will fight Sidious, and the Knights will protect everyone else. I don’t wanna put everyone in danger, but the Senate building’s space would be beneficial for a big scary showdown, and he wouldn’t suspect us of planning an attack around civilians. Plus, I don’t...” I rubbed my arm. “I don’t really know how else to defeat him right now. Anakin could’ve done it himself in twenty-three years, but that’s cuz Sidious would’ve been old and out of practice by then.”

“Mmm,” Yoda rumbled. “A risky plan, it is.”

“But we don’t have time to come up with another,” Windu acknowledged grudgingly.

“Wait,” I said. “The clones’ surgeries were finished, right?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ve kept tabs on that while you were all on missions. Order 66 did activate a few companies in the Outer Rim, but they were stunned and taken into custody. No casualties, and their chips are being removed as we speak.”

I couldn’t contain my relief. No casualties. Not a single person had died because of Order 66. “Beautiful,” I sighed. “Now, can one of you Councilmembers send those messages out to the Jedi? Not you, Windu: you’re bad at lying. But maybe Yoda or Plo or something.”

Master Plo volunteered to do it, and then everyone got ready to leave again. Due to my injury, I wouldn’t be tagging along this time, for which I was grateful. I was lucky to have survived Grievous, but there was no way even luck could save me from Darth Sidious. I was much better off staying very far away from the fight.

Padmé looked loath to send her husband away again, especially knowing that Palpatine’s main goal now was to turn him to the Dark Side. “Be careful, Anakin,” she said softly.

“I will,” he promised, then turned to me. “Keep her safe, Arina.”

I nodded. “As if she were my own sister-in-law.”

He found a speeder and headed off to the Senate building, and soon after, the other Jedi left as well. Now, it was just me, the Bad Batch, and Senator Amidala on the landing pad, silently praying we hadn’t just doomed ourselves.

Finally, Padmé stopped hugging herself and glanced at me. “Sister-in-law?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I decided Anakin’s my brother,” I replied. “Oh, he doesn’t know it yet, but he’s got an incredibly obnoxious big sister now, keeping an eye on him whether he likes it or not.” Tilting my head, I added, “Hunter, honey, you didn’t hear anything.”

The clone sergeant smirked and muttered back, “Not a word.”

“So now, I suppose we just sit and wait,” Padmé said.

“Yeah.” I slumped a little on my crutch. “You’d think after three months I’d be used to it. I guess we should head inside.”

But as I turned to go, she didn’t move, just kept staring off in the direction of the Senate building. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to help?” she asked.

I thought for a moment. Then, a smile crept onto my face. “Define ‘we,’” I said. “I can’t help, and you can’t help, but...”

“You think the clones can? Won’t it be dangerous for someone without the Force to get close to Sidious?”

I grinned. “Who said anything about getting close? Crosshair can snipe a target from ten klicks.”

Behind me, I felt the silver-haired clone’s pride swell, and he smirked at the thought of getting to shoot that treacherous chancellor himself.

“You forget,” Tech said, “Sidious has the Force. He will sense the shot and be able to dodge it easily.”

“Not if he’s crazy distracted. And I have an idea.”

While they exchanged curious looks, I reached out to Obi-Wan again. No holographic image this time, so he must be in his fighter now, on his way here to join the battling on Coruscant. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’ve got an idea to give you an edge on Palpatine,” I said. “When you arrive, tell all the other Jedi to emotionally project onto him—the most compassionate and blatantly Jedi feelings you can muster. He draws power from anger and hate, so I’m hoping that if you project the opposite, it’ll confuse and weaken him. Yeah, yeah, it’s against the Jedi Code, but they’re all gonna have to deal with it.”

Thankfully, Kenobi saw the wisdom in my unusual suggestion. “You may be right. I’ll spread the word.”

“Also,” I added, “try to corral him into his office, or at least near the windows on that side of the building.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking a sniper would be too far away to sense, and a distracted Sith is an easy target.”

I sensed him smile a little. He felt so tired, but hopeful all the same. “It’s worth a try. You’ll only get one shot, though; after that, he’ll be expecting it.”

“Understood. Good luck, Obi-Wan.”

“May the Force be with you.”

As the transmission ended, I turned to the senator. “Y’know... I’m supposed to be protecting you, Padmé, and the boys are protecting me, so... if they’re gonna do this, I guess we’ll just have to tag along. At a very safe distance from the fight, of course.”

Her lips curled upward. “Let’s go hunt a Sith lord.”

Chapter Text

Tech parked us on a skyscraper about three miles away from the Senate building. I could feel something strange in the Force from that direction as I hobbled down the attack shuttle’s ramp, and a look through Hunter’s binocs confirmed that Sidious had arrived. He and Anakin seemed to be having a charged debate in his office, so far without lightsabers involved. Crosshair pulled out his weapons kit, but I held up a hand.

“Don’t even set up until the other Jedi arrive and start fighting,” I said. “Until he’s distracted, there’s a chance he might sense your intent. Slim chance, but I don’t think we should risk it.”

Nodding, he set his rifle down.

We still had to wait a while for anything to happen, but at least we were in a position to observe and help if need be. Waiting at the temple would’ve been much harder to bear. While we stood there, Wrecker brought Gonky out for me to sit on and rest my leg.

Then, at long last, Yoda, Plo, and Windu burst into the room, and the battle began. Not a moment too soon, either—Anakin looked a bit indecisive about hurting the chancellor. It made Padmé and me worried.

The conflict intensified. With more and more Jedi reaching the building every minute, it was beginning to look very crowded in there, even though most of the new arrivals went to protect the politicians instead of joining the fight. Whenever one Jedi Master got injured, they were absorbed back into the group while another took their place, which allowed everyone but Palpatine to get a break when needed. At last, after what appeared to be some desperate words from Obi-Wan, Anakin jumped in to attack Sidious himself.

Someone must have jammed the office door, because when Palpatine moved to escape, it was through the window instead. Glass exploded outward, and the Sith lord leaped around and broke into the floor just below. But Christofisto met him there, and he stalled long enough for more Masters to appear.

Honestly, it felt kind of strange watching this climactic showdown from three miles away. Like I was somehow more detached from the action now than I’d been when watching it on a movie screen. If there was banter, I didn’t hear it, and the binocs weren’t good enough to show me distinct facial expressions. Not that I wanted to be closer, but it felt weird.

Crosshair set up his gun and began studying Palpatine through the scope, unbothered by the distance. Seriously, his eyesight amazed me. I thought about telling him to wait until Palpatine was in the air and less able to dodge, but, I mean, this was Crosshair. He already knew that.

“I just wish there was something more we could do,” Padmé said. She had borrowed Echo’s binocs and was staring through them with her lips screwed up in concern.

“We gotta trust the Jedi now,” I replied. “Given that Sidious considered them enough of a threat that he wanted them all wiped out before he rose to power, I’m pretty sure that means they have a good chance of overwhelming him.”

“Only pretty sure?”

I exhaled. “I don’t know everything, honey. Old Palps looks... pretty frustrated, though. Less cocky and more annoyed. That’s a good sign.” I handed the binocs up to Hunter so he could take a look.

“They’re keeping him near the windows,” he noted. “And he looks distracted. Good call, Katie.”

Padmé smiled a little at me. “Not living in secret anymore, huh?”

“No point now,” I admitted.

Hunter adjusted the binocs and frowned in concentration. Then, he straightened slightly. “Left knee,” he said.

“I see it,” Crosshair replied.

Someone had managed to nick the chancellor’s kneecap with their blade, and while he was still a deadly and terrifying force, he now favored that leg ever-so-slightly. I couldn’t see what was happening now without the binocs, but I could feel the encouraging swell of Light Side energy, coupled with furious blasts of lightning and a few bursts of Dark Force power that grew more desperate and ferocious by the minute. By the time Hunter passed the binocs back to me, Palpatine was acting like a caged animal—clawing and shooting lightning at everything, his back against the window, his mouth open in a vicious snarl. Every time he tried to escape, someone yanked him back to the fight. He kept shaking his head against the cacophony of projected emotions. Moreover, the Jedi’s projections doubled as reinforcement to keep Anakin in the Light Side of the Force.

In Palpatine’s exhaustion, he allowed his movements to fall into more of a pattern: escape attempt, lightsaber attack, Force attack, repeat. The exact forms and techniques varied, but this was something trackable. Predictable. I felt Crosshair’s tension and determination rise, and as I looked over to see his lips thin into a grim smile, I knew he’d noticed, too.

Then, as Sidious leapt off his left leg into an aerial corkscrew maneuver, Crosshair fired.

The Sith lord failed to dodge completely, and he took the blast just below the heart. When he hit the ground and dropped his sabers, there was a split second of stunned frozenness in the room.

“Oh, nice shot, Crosshair!” Wrecker cried.

But Palpatine was still twitching, writhing on the carpet and spewing hateful words I couldn’t hear. I didn’t realize how tense I was until Hunter put a hand on my shoulder and ordered, “Relax. You’ll make your leg worse.”

“Is he dead?” Echo asked.

“Not yet,” Padmé said.

I held my breath and gripped Hunter’s fingers tightly, unable to look away until this was entirely resolved. So close. So close. So close.

As we watched, Anakin stepped away from the group of tired Jedi Masters and approached his injured mentor. I couldn’t see his eyes, but his posture was hard and unyielding. He spoke in anger and determination, too far away for me to tell if the words were good or bad.

Then, he raised his lightsaber and plunged it into Palpatine’s chest.

Padmé and I both heaved enormous sighs of relief, and Hunter gently squeezed my hand. Whereas Tech went back to skimming his datapad as if nothing had happened, Crosshair stood up and leaned his rifle against his shoulder in smug satisfaction.

“Aww,” Wrecker groaned. “What’d he say? Why’d we have to park so far away?”

I chuckled. I would’ve liked to hear Anakin’s final words to Sidious, too, but I was thankful to be so removed from the action. Hunter was right: even the tension of watching had made my wounded leg hurt again. With a grateful smile, I returned his binocs to him, then shifted to pat Padmé’s arm.

“He’s gonna be okay,” I whispered.

She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Katie.”

Echo retrieved his own binocs from the senator and stowed them in his backpack. “Well, that was... anticlimactic.”

I laughed. “Trust me, this ending is way better than the original.”

“How was he supposed to die?” Wrecker asked.

“Anakin threw him down a reactor shaft, but that was only after a twenty-three-year reign of terror.”

Wrecker folded his arms. “Hmph. I still think we should’ve blown something up.”

I smiled. Maybe it was best I didn’t add in the Death-Star-exploding-twice bit, though it had looked pretty cool. Instead, I switched on my wrist comlink. “Looks like you took my advice, Obi-Wan. Thank you.”

He sighed. “You’re on the roof with the sniper, aren’t you?”

“Yup. Three miles away from the action. Couldn’t hear a thing, but it looked great.”

Truthfully, I was surprised that none of the Jedi had died, but I withheld that part. On Obi-Wan’s end, I heard some scuffling, and then we were joined by a fatigued Anakin, who I imagined had simply grabbed Kenobi’s arm while his master rolled his eyes.

“Is Padmé all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Ani,” she said over my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

I grinned. “Good job, Chosen One. Uh, y’all better let the good politicians know they’re safe now. I’m sensing a lot of chaos over there.”

“The Knights are handling that,” Obi-Wan said. “Now, would you please go back to the temple?”

“Okay—right after we drop off Padmé at the Senate building.”

“Arina, that’s not—”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Padmé interjected. “With Palpatine and the Separatist leadership gone, the Senate will have much to discuss.”

Anakin jumped in again to insert, “I’ll stay here to keep an eye on her, Master. I’m sure Ahsoka can handle battlefield cleanup without me for a while.”

They bickered unintelligibly for a moment, but then Obi-Wan let out a long breath of resignation. “I suppose the war is over. Very well.”

“Oh, and Obi-Wan,” I added, “you need a nap.”

“Wha... No, that isn’t—”

“That is my final order as impromptu commander-in-chief of the Jedi Council, honey: go take a nap. The war is over, Palps is dead, and you need a frickin’ break. I will drag you to a bed myself if I have to.”

How many times in one conversation could this man sigh? At least he sounded amused this time. “You can barely even walk, Arina.”

“I’d find a way. You: bed. Now. And it’s Katie again, by the way.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “Very well, Katie.”

We took Padmé to the Senate building, where the trembling politicians were just starting to exit their hiding places, and the weary Jedi had teamed up with the Coruscant Guard to clean up broken glass and furniture. Immediately, the young senator got to work soothing people’s fears and drafting up post-war relief plans. As expected, Anakin was quick to locate her and glue himself to her side. Any Jedi who weren’t needed for cleanup or crowd-control returned to their armies to wrap up their battlefields.

“Well,” Echo said as we took off again, “I... guess it’s time we brought you home, then.”

“Home?” I repeated.

Oh yeah. The temple. Home. Did that count as home now? I mean, it was a beautiful building, and I was friends with a lot of the Jedi now; I’d done so many important things there and formed some pretty important memories. It had been my haven for the past three months. But... was it home? I felt plenty at home already—in fact, more at home than I had been in a long time. Was that just because Palpatine was gone? Kinda hard to feel at home anywhere when you’re in constant danger. And yet, that wasn’t quite it. The temple... it wasn’t my place. A place, but not mine. Not long-term, anyway. Nor did I feel like I belonged with the Nightbrothers, although I was fond of them and had no doubt that they’d let me stay if I asked.

“Katie?” Hunter said. “Something wrong?”

I shook my head. “No, I just... Home. I hadn’t really thought about that before. Since the second I arrived in this galaxy, I’ve been preoccupied with saving people and trying to stop the war.”

“You miss your homeworld?” Wrecker asked.

“No, that’s not it. I’m... actually okay with leaving it in the past, weirdly enough. It’s just that... well, I don’t... really know where home is now.”

The clones. My friends. Omega. My boys.

I twisted my fingers together. “I-I’ve been wondering, guys,” I said. “So, I... I know I’m not a clone, and... I have to finish my training at the temple... but I was wondering.... W-would it maybe be okay with you guys i-if I... sort of... joined your squad?”

The second the words were out, I wanted to take them back in. There was no way they’d want me as part of their elite group. Logically, I’d be a liability, and emotionally, I’d lied to them about too many things. I wasn’t family. I couldn’t even see them frequently since I had Jedi training to complete.

The boys glanced at each other. In Hunter especially, I detected a flicker of... w-was that... shyness? But no, no, it couldn’t be. I’d likely just misread his hesitation to hurt my feelings by refusing. Heck, I shouldn’t have put them in this situation. This was a stupid idea. And now my own conflicted emotions were cloudy enough that I couldn’t even discern theirs anymore. But maybe that was a good thing—I didn’t want to sense their pity.

“I-I’m sorry,” I blurted. “It’s not important. You guys should adopt Omega, not me. It’s totally not a big deal.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at my halting retreat. “I don’t see why we can’t do both,” he said. Then, with what I could swear was a blush, and one of the softest smiles I’d ever seen, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll always have a place with us, Katie.”

I chewed on a smile, hoping they couldn’t see just how relieved I was. Granted, Hunter could probably hear it in my change of breathing, but everyone else. I hoped they couldn’t sense the unexpected tears welling up. “Thanks,” I whispered.

We landed at the Jedi temple again, and I said my goodbyes. I wasn’t sure when I’d see them next, but Wrecker was quick to give me their comm channel so I could keep in touch. As I watched them fly away, I still couldn’t really believe that this was happening. How could today be real? Grievous, Dooku, and Sidious all dead; the war over; the clones and Jedi safe. And the Bad Batch was my family.

The galaxy was going to be okay. And so was I.

Chapter Text

In the months that followed Palpatine’s death, life was very busy. None of us Jedi got as much of a break as we would’ve liked, but at least our work now was primarily post-war relief and cleanup, which was much less draining than the constant fighting. (And yes, Obi-Wan did take a nap finally.) There were always at least a hundred humanitarian projects going on in the galaxy at a time. Once my leg healed, I was able to join the others in bringing food, medicine, tools, and clothing to worlds ravaged by the war; my favorite assignment was Iridonia, because I got to spend time with the Nightbrother clan. In the tiny breaks between missions, I also got to hang out with all my favorite regs. Holy crap, the 501st were hilarious.

Oh, and Krell finally got his trial, and he went to prison for a long, long, long time. Served him right for being such a turd.

Anakin tended to talk about my crucial role in Sidious’s downfall to anyone who would listen—he insisted that I deserved every ounce of that credit—so it didn’t take long for people to get used to my real identity. I really didn’t want any fame attached to my name, but it was nice to be myself again. It was a little weird being constantly thanked by strangers in the temple hallways, though.

Where possible, I also continued my Jedi training. I advanced more quickly now and got better at agility, saber combat, and Force use, though what I really chose to focus on was emotional projection and detection. I wanted to use it to help people, like being a Jedi therapist, and after a few weeks, I announced my intention to be the first Jedi Empath. I was surprised when the Council not only allowed it but even encouraged me as I endeavored to forge my own path. Eventually, I built my own lightsaber with a sleek silver hilt and a cyan blade. (Where the color came from, I didn’t know, but it looked frickin’ awesome and I wasn’t complaining.) I never had an official master and continued to kinda just be the community padawan, but I didn’t mind. I’d probably chafe under traditional training, anyway.

I did, as soon as possible, sit the Jedi Council down for a long talk about emotional processing and literacy. Using Anakin as an example (since he wasn’t present to be offended by it), I contended that the Order’s methods of teaching emotional regulation were dated and, quite frankly, unhealthy. Some Jedi, like Obi-Wan, managed to glean a healthy lifestyle from it anyway, but for people like Anakin and me—prone to anxiety and outside-the-box thinking—it was irritating and pointless to just keep repeating to us that “fear is not the Jedi way.” In particular, telling Anakin to shove down the fear and anger would only make it all bottle up until explosive episodes released it in dangerous quantities; such unhealthy coping methods were why he was so susceptible to the Dark Side. I didn’t blame Obi-Wan for it: he’d done his best to teach Anakin what he could. But the other masters clearly didn’t know how to handle strong emotions in any way other than “control it,” which advice was too vague for Anakin.

I also tore into them about the “no attachments” rule. It had been created centuries ago as an extension of the concept that the fear of losing someone could lead one to the Dark Side, except I’d seen an alternate-future version of Obi-Wan lose practically everything and never even come close to turning. Why? Because he knew how to healthily handle grief, pain, and anger. Therefore, I argued that if the Jedi were taught proper emotional processing techniques, the need for that rule would disappear. Besides, if Jedi were allowed to marry and have children, then there’d be more Force-users in the next generation to take care of the galaxy. Also, having attachments could be a very good thing, as seen when Anakin’s love for Ahsoka had given him the determination to save her and Barriss from the mountain of rubble on Geonosis, whereas Luminara’s “let them go” mentality would have killed them.

It took several rants and lectures before the Council started to see reason, but at length—and with Obi-Wan’s strong endorsement—they decided to change their approach to teaching emotional regulation to their padawans and younglings. Baby steps, baby steps—I knew that abandoning tradition was hard for them. When Anakin found out what I was doing, he was overjoyed at the possibility of the Council lifting the attachment ban, and he gave the plan his full support. He even submitted to therapy sessions with me, as a test run to prove how well my ideas worked. Once he began showing clear signs of improvement, the Council asked me to teach them what I was doing with him so that they, in turn, could spread that teaching throughout the Order.

The day they finally decided to end the ban on attachments was the happiest day of Anakin’s life. He and Padmé had a public wedding as soon as possible, which was a blast for everyone involved and marked the dawn of a new era for the Jedi Order. (Also, Obi-Wan and Satine spent, like, the whole event together, so that was a bonus.) Ahsoka couldn’t stop saying how glad she was that they’d “finally” gone and done it, haha. Those of us who knew that they’d already been married for years just kinda never talked about it again.

Since the war was over and there was no need for new clones, Padmé and I convinced the Senate to alter their contracts with the Kaminoans slightly. They couldn’t exactly end the deals, and they’d already paid for a few million more clones, but they made an agreement with the Kaminoans that instead of the latter spending tons of credits on resources to create, feed, raise, equip, and train new clones, the funds they’d been given would be put toward a new science project: finding a way to undo the existing clones’ rapid aging. Frankly, it was a smoking deal for the Kaminoans, and it meant that the Republic wouldn’t have to scramble to house millions of extra clones when they grew up. Plus, the already-existing clones were happy to discover that they might be able to live a normal human lifetime after all. For once, they felt like the Republic was treating them like actual people. While Nala Se’s alterations didn’t undo the aging a clone had already undergone, it did ensure that from now on, each clone would age at a normal human rate.

I kept in contact with the Bad Batch, but I didn’t see them in person for months at a time. With no war going on and no more need for Jango Fett’s raw genetic material, Omega was free to join them as they traveled the stars. They still worked for the Republic and often had dangerous assignments taking down crime families or rogue slaver groups, but I’d seen the Bad Batch show and knew how well they’d protect her. She was beyond happy to finally be living with her brothers.

I missed them a lot, far more than I’d expected to, but I wouldn’t let them see that. While I hardly felt like an outsider in their group—as with Echo, they wouldn’t have adopted me if they didn’t feel a connection with me—I did sometimes wonder how deep their affection for me went. We were all friends, for sure, but how close? I didn’t get to live with them 24/7 like Echo and Omega did, so the connection might not run as deep on their end. As far as I was concerned, they were my family now. But was I theirs? Did Hunter... could he ever like me the way I liked him? There were times when I thought I felt him blushing during a long-distance conversation, but it was hard to tell through the hologram. I wasn’t used to missing people this much.

Thankfully, I had plenty to do to keep me occupied when the distance felt too great. In between teaching the current Jedi Knights and Masters proper emotional regulation and joining relief missions to worlds devastated by the war (Separatist and Republic alike), I also taught classes here and there to younglings at the temple, helping them manage their own big emotions. The kids really liked my lessons.

“Well, kiddos,” I said as I began another class under the Great Tree, “who’s ready to talk about our big feelings?”

There were seven younglings in this group, kindergarten age, and they bounced and lifted their hands. Some of them cried out, “Me! Me!”

I giggled and motioned for them to sit again. “Awesome. Now, who remembers what we talked about last week?”

A little girl raised her hand. “We talked about angry feelings, like when I was mad at Renn-Doh for stepping on my foot.”

“Very good, Shala. Do you all remember when we discussed anger?”

The other children bobbed their heads up and down. Judging from their signatures in the Force, they were all telling the truth, which was good; sometimes, they only claimed they remembered because everyone else was saying yes.

“Excellent,” I said with a smile. “Today, we’re going to talk about sadness.”

I described the emotion to them, both what it could feel like and what could cause it to arise. I listened carefully to them through the Force while I talked, ensuring that they were following and that the concept was clear enough for them. Then, as always, I shifted from lectures to demonstrations.

“Sometimes,” I told them, “I feel sad when I think about how many people got hurt during the war. May I share my sadness with you?”

The children nodded, some of them scooting their butts around to get more comfortable on the ground in preparation. When they were ready, I gently projected a child-sized portion of sorrow to everyone in the group. I let them feel it for a minute, getting used to the general sensation and to the unique flavor of my heartache. Then, I stopped.

“That is how I feel. What do you think I can do about my sadness?”

They tossed out several ideas, ranging from hugging my friends to visiting the hospitals so I could help patients heal. All their answers were so sweet.

After thanking them for their suggestions, I asked, “What makes you sad?”

A kid at my left was quick to raise his hand.

“Yes, Q’haar? Hush, children—listen to your friend.”

He twisted his fingers together. “Sometimes, I feel sad when I just miss my family a whole lot. And it makes my brain hurt, and my heart feels all angry and sad.”

Hm. He’d been brought to the temple as a two-year-old, and I sensed that he didn’t even have any memories of his family. But it was still a sore spot for many younglings, and a perfectly valid emotion. I nodded. “Let’s all share in Q’haar’s sadness.”

With my guidance, he projected his feelings to the group, and we all absorbed the sensations in silence for a minute. From what I could tell, his sadness stemmed not just from missing his family, but from the fact that he couldn’t even remember them. He didn’t know their faces, their voices, their touch. Even though he was living in a healthy environment at the temple, it made him sad that he didn’t know what it was like to have a loving family.

It makes my brain hurt, and my heart feels all angry and sad. For some reason, instead of reminding me of the Bad Batch or even of Earth, Q’haar’s innocent description had me thinking of Maul. He was a grown man, a Sith lord, a madman, yet he shared a commonality with a Jedi child: he had no memories of a loving family. And unlike Q’haar, Maul had been raised in suffering and cruelty. The Dark Side was a toxic environment, an abuser, magnifying every bad thing and ignoring the good. Could he even remember being happy?

Q’haar stopped projecting, and I opened the floor for his classmates to offer suggestions and comments. Most of what was said was really just the other younglings admitting that they missed their families, too. Finally, Shala looked up at me.

“Padawan Ortega,” she asked, “what should we do about our sadness?”

My throat tightened. “Sometimes, guys, you’ll have big feelings that don’t seem to have easy solutions. For instance, you all miss your families, but they are far away, and you’re all here at the temple. The thing is, handling big emotions doesn’t always mean fixing problems. Some of our problems can’t be fixed, or at least not right now. When that happens, one of the best things you can do is support each other through the tough times. You can hug each other. Cry together. Tell each other what makes you sad, and ask your friends to help you.”

I straightened. “I want to try something. Since all of you are sad about the same thing, would you all like to share your feelings at the same time?”

Curious, the children began projecting, filling the air around the Great Tree with a gentle pulse of heartfelt sorrow. They hadn’t done this before—all sharing the same emotion from seven different sources. I could tell it was a bit painful. One by one, the younglings started to cry, but they still kept projecting their feelings to each other. After a minute, I felt them taking mild comfort in commiseration. Soon, without any prompting from me, they began hugging each other and saying it would be okay. I was so proud.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about Maul. A man who had never known kindness, or hugs, or commiseration. Whose own mother knew he was alive but didn’t care enough to find him herself. Yes, he had done terrible things, but so had Anakin. If he had been raised at the temple instead of by Sidious, would he have turned out so differently from Skywalker? Passionate and prone to anger, but capable of so much goodness?

I knew where he was. Was it right of me to leave him there in his trash heap, drowning in insanity and rage? He was dangerous, yes, but I knew he was still able to be somewhat good, at least—in another timeline, he had loved Savage and grieved at his death. What was the point of having this knowledge if I wasn’t going to use it? If I just left him there... wasn’t I as bad as Mother Talzin?

I hid my distraction and finished the lesson, thanking each child for trusting us with their emotions, but after dismissal, I was off down the hall to my quarters. This wasn’t something I could just sit on. The more I thought about it, the more I could feel the Force pushing me toward him. He was lost; I was here to rescue people. It would be risky, and frightening, and maybe foolish, but heck, I had to try.

I had to try and save Maul.

Chapter Text

Leaving a note on my bed in case someone noticed my absence, I departed the Jedi temple in the Twilight, which Anakin let me use from time to time. It was just me and Rapper, and I didn’t explain my plan to the astromech yet. I’d convinced the Council and Senate to begin campaigns against slavery and the Outer Rim crime syndicates, so really the only loose end I had to tie up now was the Martez sisters. That was good, or I’d feel a lot worse about putting myself in such danger now.

I headed down to Level 1313 of the Coruscant underworld and found Trace’s mechanic shop. She and Rafa were arguing in the back, and while I didn’t hear all the context, I gathered that it had to do with another of Rafa’s moneymaking schemes. When they noticed my arrival, they exchanged a few last frustrated words.

“...finish this later,” Trace said over her shoulder as she came out to meet me. Then, halfway through her practiced customer greeting, she noticed my attire and faltered. “O-oh. You’re a Jedi.”

I felt Rafa perk up at that and detected her careful approach to join us on the platform. Even before she came into view, I could tell she was wary. Part of me suddenly wished that I were Ahsoka instead; she should be the one befriending and helping them, not me. I felt like I was intruding on someone else’s destiny here.

“Wait,” Rafa said, “you’re that Jedi everyone’s talking about, aren’t you? Master Ortega, or something.” Her tone lacked all of the normal swagger and bite, and I noticed she’d placed herself partway between her sister and me.

“I’m actually just a padawan,” I confessed, “but yes. Anakin’s determined to give me all the credit, even though I hate it.” I tilted my gaze up to the Silver Angel, which at this point in time was still incomplete. “The ship is beautiful. You’ve done a good job, Trace.”

The younger girl straightened. “Y-you know who I am?”

“What do you want, Jedi?” Rafa asked.

I chewed on my lip. “I wanted to apologize. On behalf of the Jedi Order.”

Rafa’s brows knitted together, and she and Trace both frowned. I sensed in their thoughts that they both knew there was only one thing a Jedi might need to apologize to them for.

“The day your parents died,” I said softly, “I understand that Master Luminara spoke to you. She told you not to worry because the Force would be with you. And I want to apologize for that.” I rubbed my right palm. “She’s wise and talented in many things, but emotional comprehension is not one of them. Oh, I know she thought she was helping, but... well, she shouldn’t have said that. Not to two grieving kids.”

Both Martezes had pain in their eyes, and I sensed bitterness in Rafa especially. “Oh, really?” she said. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

“I know,” I responded, “and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry you weren’t given the comfort or closure you deserved. Maybe the Force is a source of consolation for some Jedi, but for the rest of us, it’s not enough. Luminara should’ve known that. She didn’t bother to acknowledge your grief, your loss, or your situation, and that was cruel. I realize it’s been a while, but I want you to know that I am so, so very sorry for everything.”

I could feel that Rafa wanted to snap back at me again, but she couldn’t seem to find the words to say. Trace was fighting tears.

Meanwhile, I’d begun massaging my hand even harder; I had to stop doing that. “I-I don’t mean to dig up old wounds,” I said, “I just... I want to make things right before...”

I squeezed my palm. I might not survive my encounter with Maul, so before I left, I had to ensure that I’d helped everyone I could. The Order was emotionally reformed; the Nightbrothers were doing well and had Sugi to look after them; Omega was with the Bad Batch; Anakin was healthy and publicly married; and slavery and the criminal syndicates were being eradicated a little at a time. Even if Maul killed me, all that good work would continue. I had played my part. I had done... everything I could...

Trace’s frown had deepened. “Before what?”

I released my hand and forced false calm onto my expression. “Oh, just something I still have to do. There’s this crazy guy on a trash planet whom I might be able to help.”

Rafa rolled her eyes. “Oh, of course. More Jedi business involving saving people and making sacrifices for the greater good. Nevermind whether those sacrifices are objects or people.”

I knew she was just bitter and grieving, so I didn’t let it get to me. “Don’t worry, honey,” I said. “If I fail, then he just stays stuck in garbage where he can’t wreak havoc, so this time, the only casualty is me. I’ve tied up my loose ends.”

A ripple of sympathy emanated from Trace as she continued to frown at me, but I ignored that, too. “I should tell you,” I went on, “I know a lot more about you guys than you think. Trace, you’ve come so far and become an incredible young woman. Your parents would be so proud of you. And your ship really is special. Rafa, you’ve done a good job of protecting her. I know it wasn’t easy having to make things work on your own; you did the best you could. But you should know that Trace isn’t cut out for your moneymaking schemes. She’s a bird straining to fly, a fire in the dark. Don’t dim that light.”

I felt something tap on my leg and looked down to see that Rapper had joined us from the ship. Once he had my attention, he banged on the back of my knee again with one metal appendage, this time in irritation.

“What?” I asked.

Beeping angrily, he shoved his whole self against my legs and then rocked from foot to foot. I was getting better at understanding binary, but I didn’t need a translation to comprehend his meaning. I sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the death bit, Rapper. You’ll be fine, though: I’m just gonna have you drop me off and then leave the surface till it’s over. Don’t look at me like that. If I bring anyone with me, they’ll just antagonize him. No, I don’t have permission—that’s why I left a note. And now we’re just wasting the girls’ time, so get your dome back in there, and let’s go.” I patted his head. “Please, buddy. It’s important to me.”

“A-are you gonna be okay?” Trace asked.

I shrugged. “As long as nobody tries to attack the guy, I’d say I’ve got a twenty percent chance of success and survival.” I hesitated. “If Talzin doesn’t murder me first. Aw, heck. Make that, like, eight.”

Rapper chittered again in distress—something about Dathomir and having a death wish.

“Yes, we’re going to Dathomir. He’s gonna stay insane without his mom’s help.” Bracing myself, I cast the Martez sisters one last gentle smile. “You two look after each other, okay? If I survive, I’ll come back sometime. Maybe you can fix some of Rapper’s loose bolts.”

The droid smacked my leg again before wheeling himself back up the ramp of the Twilight. With a half-smile, I nodded to the girls and followed, trying to ignore the way my gut was twisting itself into knots. The Martezes were overwhelmed and confused behind me, but I could only hope to see them again and find out if my amends had even stuck. For now, I had one final job to do.

Next stop: Dathomir.

Chapter Text

In an odd way, I was more anxious about meeting Mother Talzin than Maul. If he didn’t like me or want to change, he’d just kill me and be done with it. But if she got angry with me, there was no telling what torture her magicks would cause. And unfortunately, it had been long enough that there was no way she didn’t know that I was responsible for the Nightbrothers’ disappearance.

When I landed, though, I instantly sensed that something was very off. There was a raw, aching thickness in Dathomir’s atmosphere, and the lack of Nightsister warriors approaching had me worried instead of relieved. Then I saw the burial pods, and I understood. Whatever vengeance plot Talzin had concocted in place of the “enslave a Nightbrother” plan, it must have angered Dooku enough that he’d still ordered her clan’s demise. Of course we hadn’t heard about it—Talzin and Ventress would’ve had no reason to tell the Jedi of the Nightsisters’ genocide.

The residual darkness after so much pain continued to haunt the forest after all these months, filling the air with near-tangible memories of the women’s harsh fates. I groaned. Talzin, you idiot! So many had died for her revenge. How was I supposed to get her help now? Had she survived in the spirit realm this time, or was she dead-dead? If the former, she’d want some serious vengeance for her clan, and I might be screwed. If the latter, well... I’d just be a different kind of screwed.

“Mother Talzin?” I called. “Mother Talzin, can you hear me? I need to talk to you. Please, it’s about your son.”

A sickly green vapor billowed into existence all around me, and my heart rate spiked. Ohh gosh, what was I thinking? Her magick creeped me out enough when it was on a screen, but now it was actually here. Oh heck, oh heck, oh heck. As the wispy tendrils coiled around my limbs and through my hair, I felt a twisted presence join me in the clearing, and then a white face with black tattoos materialized in front of me.

“What do you want?” Talzin snapped. Her venomous voice echoed slightly, and her figure was only mostly corporeal, so I guessed that she must have lost her physical body in the battle. “You have already taken my sons from me, and as you can see, there are no Nightsisters left for you to steal.”

“Your clan’s destruction is not my fault,” I replied. “I knew it would happen if I left the Nightbrothers to be your tools for vengeance against Dooku, so I hoped that saving them would also save the Nightsisters. Clearly you got creative, and the count didn’t like that.”

Growling, she flooded forward to get right up in my face. “You stole Dathomirian property!” she hissed.

“People aren’t property,” I said evenly, meeting her gaze, “and you have more than two sons. I’m here to talk about Maul.”

Confusion flickered across her stormy expression, and she hesitated.

“I know where he is,” I told her. “Call me crazy, but I want to help him. Problem is, due to his trauma and the years alone, he’s gone insane, and I can’t fix that. You can, though. I’m not asking you to like me, Talzin, I just want your help in saving him. He is your son, after all.”

While she deliberated on this, I rubbed my scarred hand. Her thoughts were harder to detect than most people’s, but I knew enough about her to tell that she was trying to make this work for her own benefit. Finally, she smiled at me.

“You are right,” she said. “My firstborn has been alone for too long. Let us put our pasts aside and bring him home.”

Yeah, she was definitely gonna try to double-cross me; I was getting strong “I hate you” vibes through the Force. But I wasn’t even sure if I’d survive meeting Maul, so I decided not to worry about Talzin unless and until it became relevant. I also tried to ignore how my Zabrak horn scars were throbbing.

I cleared my throat. “Wonderful. Now, I know your magick is less powerful off-world, so I figured it’d be best to grab him and bring him back here for healing. Would you be able to help with that, or am I gonna have to knock him out myself? Cuz I’m definitely not strong or fast enough to beat him alone.” Plus, I wasn’t sure that emotionally projecting would slow a crazy man like it had Palpatine.

“I will provide you with the means to safely capture him,” she said. With a witchy wave of her hand, she produced from thin air a pouch filled with fine black powder and offered it to me. “When Zabrak males breathe this, it induces in them a deep sleep. You, however, will not be affected.”

The implications of that left me feeling gross all over—Nightsister date rape drugs?!—but I accepted the pouch with a nod and contained my grimace. Since I didn’t really have anything else to say to her, I just took my leave and returned to the Twilight. Poor Rapper was vibrating with anxiety again. Oh dear. Part Two of my insane plan was upon us.

It took some convincing to get Rapper to plot a course for Lotho Minor, but at last we made it to the trash planet where Maul had lived for the past thirteen years. Huge mountains of decrepit old ships and junk loomed everywhere, forming canyons and hilly regions entirely out of rusted scraps. In the distance, “fire-breathing” refuse incinerators cast deadly glows over the dreary landscape. Once we landed, I patted the little mech’s head and plastered on a brave face for him.

“I’ll be fine, buddy,” I lied. “I’ve got Talzin’s bag of pixie dust, so now I’ve just gotta find Maul and bring him home. While I’m looking, though, I’m gonna need you to stay in orbit, and do not land for any reason before I ask you to. If things do go south, Maul might try to steal the ship and leave the planet, so we’ve gotta keep it out of his reach until we know he’s safe to transport. Can you do that for me?”

The astromech chirped his grudging consent.

“Thanks, Rap. I’m not entirely sure how far away he is, so this might take a few hours. If I don’t comm for pickup by tomorrow morning...” I bit my lip. “Tell Sugi to look after the Nightbrothers for me, and tell...”

Tell the Bad Batch how much I love them. Tell Hunter I wish I’d had the courage to confess my feelings, and tell Omega I’m so glad I got to be her mom for a while. Tell the regs I’m gonna miss hanging out with them. Tell Obi-Wan and Plo I look up to them, and tell Ahsoka and Padmé they’re like sisters to me. Tell Anakin how proud I am of him.

Tell my family... I’m gonna miss them so much.

My throat tightened. “See ya, buddy.”

I patted Rapper’s dome again, then exited the ship and started walking. Behind me, the Twilight took off and headed into the atmosphere. I could do this. I would do this. I didn’t have a fancy talisman like Savage had possessed in the TV series, but I was pretty proficient in emotional detection by now. If I just listened below me for a mad, Dark presence radiating through the Force, I should, in theory, find him.

Ultimately, I didn’t have to worry: Morley, the Anacondan from the Clone Wars series, located me first. I told him I was looking for a man with horns and red skin, and then I allowed him to lead me through the massive junkyard and do his thing of pretending to be helpful while inwardly wondering what I’d taste like. As creepy as he was, it was kind of hard not to laugh sometimes at his self-congratulations at fooling yet another person into “becoming the master’s next meal.” I played along and let him have his moment, largely because my fragile amusement distracted me from the actual horribleness of the snake’s carnivorous thoughts. If they were gonna eat me, I hoped that I’d at least be dead for that part. Oh, heck.

We didn’t run into any Junkers, thank goodness, and Morley commented that I was lucky to have arrived between bursts of acid rain. I didn’t feel lucky; this planet was practically designed to make you anxious. After about twenty minutes of walking, I began to detect something unhinged and vaguely sinister somewhere below us, and I knew we were close. Maul was down there, muddled and manic. I had to restrain myself from grabbing my saber or the dust pouch so Morley wouldn’t suspect I knew. I wasn’t sure if the serpent had any hidden abilities, or if he might try to attack me in his hunger so I couldn’t escape. Better to let him believe I was a clueless soon-to-be victim of his Zabrak master.

To his credit, the Anacondan was quick. Even though I knew his plan, by the time I realized he was herding me into a specific position in the junkyard, it was too late. He pulled a switch with his tail, and the ground dropped out from under me. My stomach lurched into my throat, and with the wind roaring past my ears, I almost didn’t hear Morley calling after me, “—and when he’s done with you, I get to eat what’s left!”

That’s not the line, I thought breathlessly. But then the trapdoor closed, and I was enveloped in darkness.

Training, training, training—I could do this! I reached out through the Force to sense the rapidly approaching floor, finding it just in time to land semi-gracefully on my feet. As the echoes of my landing bounced away to either side of me, I drew my saber for light but kept a firm attention on what the Force was telling me. Maul wasn’t far away. I was in a small open space, like a room carved out from the piles of debris and rusty rubble; to my left and right, tunnels snaked away into the underground labyrinth.

The clattering sound of spiderlike legs along the stone-and-metal tunnel reached my ears, and my breath shortened in spite of myself. Say something—talk to him before he just straight up kills you!

“Maul?” I called out. “I’m here to help you, Maul. I just wanna help y—”

My words cut off with a yelp as he was suddenly there, his red-and-black face twisting into a snarl in the bright cyan glow of my blade. How had he gotten so close so fast?! When I instinctively shoved him away with the Force, he flew back and caught himself on the uneven wall. Calm, calm—I needed to be calm, or I’d only provoke him. But heck, that freaked me out! You couldn’t just sneak up on someone in a dark tunnel like that! With spider legs!

As I caught my breath and he circled me on the room’s walls, I used that split second to analyze his Force signature. There was less Darkness than expected, the evil muted by his illogical thoughts and his instinctive dislike for Jedi. And he was tired. So very tired.

“Maul, let me help you!”

The Zabrak lunged for me again before I could finish reading him, forcing me to duck and roll out of the way; it was like he hadn’t even heard me. I reached for the dust pouch as I dodged, fumbling to open it up. But in my panic, my fingers couldn’t manage the drawstrings.

Divided and inexperienced as my mind was, I didn’t realize I’d loosened my right-hand grip until my lightsaber was suddenly yanked away. Insane or not, Maul still had the Force. The blade switched off and snapped into his hand in the dark, and I gulped. Now I was weaponless, scared, and unable to see. I could feel his location, but that wouldn’t tell me if he was reaching forward or lunging to strike. I still couldn’t get the pouch open.

“I-I’m trying to help you,” I stammered. “Please, I-I-I’m trying to—”

His footsteps rattled onto the floor in front of me, and then the saber switched on again.

Directly into my stomach.

Chapter Text

Since facing Grievous, I’d had multiple nightmares about dying on a lightsaber’s blade. Would I disappear instantly into some afterlife? Would it hurt for very long? Would I become a Force ghost?

In the end, none of that happened. Before my body even hit the floor, I felt myself leave it and drift upward in the room. I had never had an out-of-body experience before (nor had I ever wanted to), but this seemed like one; I was now observing myself from above, watching Maul withdraw the blade from my abdomen and inspect the hilt with a curiosity that was both hazy and acute. Was I dead? I seemed dead. My body on the ground wasn’t breathing, and I felt so detached and distant from it. But then, what was I? A spirit? Somehow, I knew I wasn’t a Force ghost; that would feel permanent, only my current state seemed fluid and undetermined. If I moved around, I could also “feel” and “see” my spirit-limbs, but only in a ghostly sense. Like my mind was merely projecting what I expected to find. At least my vision had adjusted to the darkness.

My attention returned to Maul, and I was somewhat surprised to discover that I could still sense his emotions and thoughts. Hunger. Resentment. Emotional exhaustion. Loneliness. Fear of the Jedi. The constant backache from relying on legs that were not compatible with his anatomy. And through it all, my remembered voice rattling “I’m trying to help you” over and over around his skull.

There was so much pain. I’d known there would be, but still, even through all the madness and disconnected ravings going on inside, it was impossible to ignore the underlying river of heartbreak. He’d always hidden it so well in the movies and shows, turning that sadness into anger to fuel his Dark Side power. But here underneath, forgotten in the belly of a cruel wasteland, he was drowning in it. Abandoned by everyone. Never once knowing love. I’m trying to help you. Help. Help. Help.

He reached for my arm, telling himself that it was time to eat, only to recoil and shake his head vehemently. “No, no, no,” he mumbled. He backed away to pace around the room on his six clacking metal legs. “No, no, no, no, no.”

I’m trying to help you.

“No, no, no!” If he didn’t eat, he would starve, and he couldn’t let himself die yet. Not before he’d killed Kenobi, not before he’d seen sunlight again. Help! Help...

“Oh, honey,” I whispered.

His head snapped up, and a shaft of terror split through his mind. “No!” he screeched again, backing up. “Leave—leave, leave!”

Had... had he heard me? Maybe I was a Force ghost, or the Force had somehow allowed me to communicate with him despite being out of my body. Weird things did tend to happen in this galaxy. “Maul,” I tried, louder, and he whimpered in confusion.

“No, no, leave,” he said. I’m trying to help you. “Leave... help...”

My incorporeal heart clenched. Drifting toward him, I reached out and placed my invisible hands on his cheeks. He must’ve felt it, or my presence at least, because he froze. Would he also be able to sense it if I projected something to him?

“Maul,” I said gently, “it’s all right. I forgive you.”

His eyes darted around, trying in vain to see the source of my deceased voice.

“I have something for you,” I went on. “A gift. I wanted to give it to you in life, but it looks like that’s not happening now. So here. I hope it still works.”

And with that, I began emotionally projecting. I sent him my compassion, my kindness, my forgiveness. I wanted him to understand that I didn’t blame him for my death; he was insane, and he needed a food source. When he jolted away from me to shriek and cover his face, I knew it was working. I gave him my patience, my sympathy, my sorrow, my guilt. I let him know that I felt for his situation and wished I could’ve saved him. He had been through so much anguish, and I knew it, and I was sorry for it. I’m trying to help you.

“You have never known kindness,” I murmured. “Just this once, let me show it to you.”

He stumbled to the other side of the room, still hiding his face with one arm while the other jerked madly in an attempt to wave my soul away. But he didn’t leave the room.

In that moment, I even found it in myself to love him, and I extended that to him with every bit of Force energy I could muster. “I know you don’t think you deserve it,” I said. “I know you don’t want to accept. In such Darkness, hope hurts more than the agony. But Maul, your brothers would’ve loved you. I wish I could’ve taken you home. I think you would’ve been so happy. I can’t do that now, but for once in your life, I want you to know what it feels like. This is my gift to you.”

As I dug through myself to find the happiest possible memories to draw my projection from, Maul shook his head again. “No,” he moaned. “No, no, no.” Underneath, however, he clawed at these positive feelings, greedily soaking them up because he knew he’d never get another chance. Who could ever trust such a monster? What was the point of trying to be good when he had done such evil? He had killed the only person who had ever shown him compassion. He could never earn such gentleness again, not after the things he’d done.

Searching my mind for good memories filled me with a beautiful, bittersweet ache that stabbed straight to my core. I thought of my Dathomirian brothers on Iridonia. I thought of little Gore as he gripped his doll and smiled at me for the first time. I thought of sunsets and flying. Of piggyback rides with Omega while she laughed and held me tight. Of laughing with Fives and Hardcase. Training with Plo Koon. The jokes I shared with Ahsoka and Rex. The joy on Anakin and Padmé’s faces when they discovered they were pregnant. Hugging Hunter for the first and only time since Grievous, and feeling so warm and safe.

Then, shifting my focus back to Maul, I blasted his fear and self-loathing away with the strongest emotional projection I had ever performed. He would feel love. He would feel peace. And even if it wasn’t his, he would feel happiness.

With a howl, Maul buried his face in his hands and started to sob. I half-expected him to rage-quit and destroy something next, but he didn’t. He just slumped from the wall onto the floor and cried. These feelings were like nothing he had ever known, nothing he could have even imagined, and it was unbearable. In the cocoon of my projection, he felt safe, and free, and warm. He felt alive. He felt home.

Lurching to his feet again, the Zabrak scrambled toward my body. He nudged me first, then pushed me, and then shook my shoulder with increasing urgency. Trying, I realized, to wake me up. Only then did I realize that I was breathing shallowly, but my heartbeat was so weak that I might as well be dead. When his shaking didn’t change anything, he scooped up my discarded saber and set it on my chest, wringing his hands as he stepped back. Still nothing, of course. Boy, if I could squeeze back into my body, I would, but it wasn’t gonna happen without a literal miracle. He whimpered and pounded the sides of his head. What had he done?

“I’m here for my leftovers!” a slippery voice called in singsong. Morley slithered into the room with a hungry grin on his face.

Maul whirled on him and screamed. It was wordless, mad, but he kept on screaming until the Anacondan got the memo and bolted out of there. I detected Maul’s panic mounting as he resumed shaking me and still got no response. This was wrong—it was wrong, and he had to fix me—but he didn’t know enough magick, c-couldn’t think of any ritual or ability that could possibly help— help —h-he had to do something—!

With his hands shaking and tears still streaking down his cheeks, he circled the room and then reached to touch the wound. “No, no, no, no, no, stop,” he mumbled. “Back, back, come back, no, no, no. Must come back, must come back...”

I felt a powerful shift in the Force around him then. He pushed his hand harder against my stomach, as if trying to staunch invisible blood, and he—he was using the Light Side of the Force—Maul was—

Something tugged sharply on my gut, and my spirit was yanked across the room to rejoin my body. I sensed all my limbs again in their physical state, heavy and still, and my heart just barely beating. As I wheezed in my first renewed breath, the pain of my stab wound ripped through me with a vengeance. Then, however, it ebbed away. In the dimness, I could just barely make out Maul’s relieved smile.

He had healed me.

I reached cautiously to touch my abdomen where the lightsaber had burned through my robes, and despite the stench of scorched flesh, my fingers were met with smooth skin. For a moment, I simply lay there and took stock of myself. Head, torso, limbs all intact. Spirit connected with body. Pain gone. Lightsaber and pouch both here. I’d have to fix the holes in my clothes....

I was scared at first to move and accidentally jolt myself back into the ether somehow, but eventually I worked up the courage to sit up and hook the saber onto my belt. Had I really almost died? Everything in me felt shaky and weird.

“Thanks,” I croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Maul, thank you. Seriously.”

He swayed beside me, and then his metal limbs folded under him as he crumpled. With a squeak, I caught him—careful this time not to impale my hand on any horns—and checked for a pulse. Still there, thank goodness. He’d simply drained himself in transferring life force to me. I doubted anyone had ever taught him how to do that, or even told him it was possible, so it must’ve happened by instinct. And fortunately, he hadn’t given me everything, only enough to close the wound. He was tired, but he’d live.

Almost as exhausted, I leaned against the wall with his head on my knee, just breathing and trying to absorb what had happened. I had all but died today. I had died, and then Darth freaking Maul had given half of his own life to heal me.

My life was frickin’ nuts.

It took a long—and I mean long —time to drag his unconscious spider-cyborg self up to the surface from the underground maze. Heck, all that metal was heavy, not to mention awkward to maneuver around. Plus, I was still weak from having basically died. When we’d finally made it up top and I had taken a break to recharge myself, I commed Rapper to get down here and pick us up. Then, tapping into the Force again for strength, I lugged the ex-Sith Zabrak onto my borrowed light freighter.

Knowing how much Rapper would fuss over me if he knew I’d been stabbed, once I’d deposited Maul in the hold, I went and grabbed a clean set of clothes from a back compartment. At Anakin and Ahsoka’s suggestion, I always kept a non-Jedi outfit aboard whatever ship I was on, just in case I needed to go undercover; these were my original leggings, shirt, and combat boots from Earth. Man, I really needed to stop damaging my Jedi clothes. First Grievous had torn my pants and shoes, and now Maul had stabbed through my tunic and cloak. So far, only my belt had escaped injury. (Don’t jinx it, right?) To be safe, I also had the medical droid onboard give me a once-over, but as expected, I was clean—no internal damage or burns, or even a scratch.

When I returned to check on the Zabrak, he was muttering unintelligibly in his sleep. I sensed the expected loneliness and Kenobi-hate, but the latter especially was weaker than before. Of course, it would take time and therapy to fully eradicate thirteen years’ worth of loathing, but we had already taken steps in the right direction. Maul knew that impossible healing was possible. He knew that I sincerely wanted to help him. And he had hope again for the first time in probably decades.

He was stretched out on his stomach on the floor, his six legs curled underneath him. A soft whimper escaped his lips, and I detected a nightmare coming on, so I sat down beside him and patted his head between the elongated horns.

“Hush,” I said. “You’re safe now. It’s okay, honey.”

He moaned and tensed up, half-waking. “Nnnnno,” he mumbled. “Leave. Please, Master, no...”

Trying to exude a motherly gentleness, I slid my hand down to stroke his cheek. “Sidious can’t hurt you anymore,” I promised. “He’s dead. You’re safe, Maul.”

I projected happiness to him again, and he shivered and grabbed my wrist. For several minutes, we sat there like that, with him gripping me as though I were a lifeline. He was more than a decade older than me, yet I felt like I was comforting a child. In a way, I supposed, I was. He had never had a real childhood, and as result had never learned vulnerability. Now, for the first time, he got to know what it was like to sleep under a mom’s tender protection. Granted, this would never happen if he weren’t insane, but still. He needed it.

We arrived on Dathomir, and I carefully dragged him down the ramp and to the front gates of the Nightsister village. Mother Talzin felt a bit surprised to see me still alive and both of us uninjured, but she masked the emotion with her usual cool smile. Heh, if she only knew. Although she still hated me underneath, she did use her magick to levitate her son so I wouldn’t have to drag him all the way to the ritual altar-thing. Once there, I returned the chloroform powder to her and admitted that I hadn’t used it, and I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed that she didn’t question me further. She wasn’t concerned about why her son was unconscious? She really didn’t care, did she? As long as he was alive, it didn’t matter to her if he got knocked out or abused.

As in the Clone Wars show, Talzin did her wibbly-wobbly witchy stuff to restore his mind and build him a pair of legs from the broken battle droids lying around. Not humanoid legs, though—why the heck did she think it necessary to give him clawed goat legs? He wasn’t frickin’ Grievous. At least she’d fixed his horns so they weren’t practically antlers anymore.

When her work was finished, she woke him up, and he rolled into a sitting position. She said some weird generic line—like “Rise, my son” or something—but I ignored it and listened to his thoughts instead. Gosh, there was a lot of turmoil. If he weren’t so muddled and exhausted, he’d probably be shielding his mind from me, but as it was, I got everything. He resented his mother; he didn’t know who I was or why he didn’t hate me; these legs were lighter than the last but felt so strange; he was confused; he was tired; he was... warm? No. Hopeful? Ugh, when had that happened?

I sensed the moment he remembered the rest—how he’d healed me and later clung to my wrist on the ship—and all the conflict that came with it. He never would have been that vulnerable with me had he not been mad, but because he had, he felt a connection to me now. Even wanted to protect me. What was happening to him?

“Welcome home,” Talzin said. “Dathomir is once again blessed to have a Nightbrother walk her forests.” She shot me a pointed look.

Maul furrowed his brow, still trying to collect his thoughts. He had healed me. How? And... and some part of him was in the Light Side now—a growing part of him. “You said...” he muttered. “M-my old master. You said he was dead.”

I nodded. “Him and Dooku both—they died a few months ago. You’re free, Maul.”

“Yes,” Talzin said. “With the Sith eradicated, we are both free—free to rule the galaxy together as mother and son.”

I rolled my eyes. “Could you let him get his bearings first?”

“You have no say in this,” she snapped with a scowl. “You upset the balance of our society, stole our men away. I should have my son kill you for your crimes.”

“Excuse me?” I clenched my fists and glared at her. I shouldn’t get so angry right next to a recovering Sith, but subjugation was a trigger point for me. “First he was a slave to Sidious, then he spent years enslaved by his own mind, and now the first thing you wanna do when he wakes up is manipulate him into being your slave? What is wrong with you? Holy crap, you’re a horrible mother! And you wouldn’t even give him normal legs—no, they had to be big and scary cuz you care more about his intimidation factor than his comfort.”

Maul’s confusion had swelled. “You stole... the Nightbrothers?”

“I rescued them from your mom and the abuse of the Nightsisters,” I told him, still looking at Talzin. “They’re safe in a settlement far away. And they chose to leave. She just doesn’t like people being pulled out from under her control.”

All things considered, he was remarkably not angry right now. In the TV show, he’d woken up hellbent on killing Kenobi. But here, that was only in the back of his thoughts. As he looked up at his mother, I could feel that he believed me and even agreed with me. No one deserved to live under that oppression.

With a growl, Talzin worked up a green spell over her fingers. “Enough! You took everything from me.”

“Wake up, Talzin,” I retorted. “You orchestrated your own downfall with that vengeance plot. I thought I could trust you to at least heal your oldest kid without being selfish, but clearly you only do things for yourself. I’m not gonna let you hurt my boys.”

I had practically died today, and that after already being under serious pressure and anxiety from trying to save someone who might not want saving. I was done being nice to this witch. I didn’t care anymore. She was an abuser, and I wouldn’t just stand by while her son got twisted into her puppet. Stepping between her and Maul, I widened my stance.

“Try it, jerk,” I challenged. “I’m not gonna let you touch him.”

Mother Talzin laughed. “You are no match for me, Jedi.”

“Don’t care.”

Maul stared at me. It hurt his pride that I seemed to think he needed protecting, but he was too stunned by the fact that someone wanted to protect him. A Jedi did. I was willing to die for the second time today just so he could be free.

When Talzin reared back to shoot her magick at me, he exercised the Force and shoved her against a stone wall. The shot went awry, and she snarled, clearly thinking it had been me. As she straightened for another attack, Maul rose to his feet, only to stumble due to the strange new leg design. I instinctively reached to stabilize him. While I was distracted—and even though I was the only thing holding her son up—Talzin fired again.

Maul reached in front of me and caught the green blast in one trembling hand, the magick crackling as he struggled to remember how to control it. “No,” he growled. He clenched his fist, smothering the ball of energy. “No, Mother.”

He was scared of her, and he hated having to lean on me for support, but inside he suddenly seemed so solid. So sure. That woman was not family to him. Regardless of his own ambitions, he would never rule at her side. He was done working for people who only caused him pain. No.

Proud of him, I hugged his waist a little, and instead of his irritation flaring up, I felt his determination and confidence harden.

“No, Mother,” he repeated. “I... I control my own path now. And you are not a part of it.”

Her hands lowered, and the Force around her flooded with genuine shock. She had assumed that his ambition, the Dark Side, and their familial connection would make him naturally drawn to her offer. But he wasn’t all Dark anymore. He knew that blood ties weren’t everything. He had tasted real happiness, and he craved it so badly that nothing else would satisfy. Since she couldn’t give it to him, her offer was empty.

“Can you stand?” I asked quietly.

Adjusting his clawed feet, he shifted his full weight onto them and nudged me away. After a wobble, he stood up straight.

“Let’s go,” I whispered.

I started back toward the Twilight, and Maul followed without a word. I waited for Talzin to fire another angry blast at me, or call out, or do anything, but she didn’t. When I reached out through the Force behind me, I sensed... abandonment. Loneliness. She was just watching us go, realizing the hard way and far too late that a relationship based on manipulation would never be enough.

I took a deep breath. We had both survived her wrath, and Maul was free of her. He had freed himself from a toxic relationship. Maybe he really would be okay.

Chapter Text

We boarded the light freighter and exited the atmosphere, and I heard Maul breathe a sigh of relief once that planet was behind us. Then, for a while, the air in the cockpit was stiff and awkward. He felt embarrassed that I’d seen him in his mad and vulnerable state, and I wasn’t really sure what to say that wouldn’t exacerbate that. It didn’t help that Rapper was nervous to be in the same room as him.

Finally, I realized that I hadn’t told anyone on Iridonia we were coming yet—I hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up if it didn’t work out—so I asked Rapper to patch me through to Sugi. She spent every fourth week or so with the Nightbrothers now, so she should be there.

After a minute, her holographic figure popped up on the dashboard. “Nice to hear from you, Katie.”

“You, too,” I said with a small smile. “You’re in the settlement, right? Are Savage and Feral there?”

“They are. Is everything all right?”

I absently rubbed my abdomen. “Better than all right. I have someone I want them to meet. Tell them—” I glanced at Maul— “that their older brother is coming home.”

Maul’s eyes widened. I had alluded to his brothers a couple of times since he’d killed me, but he’d been too preoccupied until now to connect the dots that I was talking about blood brothers, not just fellow Nightbrothers.

Sugi chuckled in disbelief and raised an eyebrow. “Older brother? You are full of surprises. How far out are you?”

“We’re about halfway from Dathomir. Oh—he’s got cybernetic legs, just so they know what to expect.”

“I’ll let them know. We’ll be—” She cut herself off, and I thought I heard distant shouts through the hologram. Sugi cursed. “I knew this would happen. It’s another one of those attacks.”

“Attacks?”

“Slavers,” she said as she prepped her gun. “With the Jedi taking down the slaving empires, those who escaped arrest have started targeting rural towns like ours. Thought you knew.”

I frowned. “Yeah, but I didn’t realize it’d gotten out to Iridonia. Just hold out until we arrive.”

She smiled tightly. “Don’t worry. Besides, doesn’t your squad hunt these guys for a living? They might get here before you do. Ranco! Hand me that spear!”

The transmission ended, and I rubbed my face tiredly. “Just when you think they’re safe...” I muttered. “Sorry, Maul—looks like the reunion will have to wait a minute. Rap, show me how fast this junker can fly.”

We raced to Iridonia to find the battle in full swing, with a group of twenty or so Zygerrians split between the village and the desert plain past the canyon’s mouth. All the children had been barricaded indoors while the Zabrak adults defended the settlement. Despite having the advantage of numbers, the Zabraks struggled against the Zygerrians’ higher-tech weapons and years of experience. Moreover, for many of my boys, slavery was a PTSD trigger that put them off their game. Several of the Nightbrothers already sat trapped in cages and electroshock nets.

As Sugi had predicted, the Bad Batch’s attack shuttle was already parked next to the Halo on the outskirts when we arrived. It was their job to track these guys, after all. Echo, Tech, Hunter, and Crosshair were keeping the slavers on the plain busy while Wrecker and Omega covertly opened cages and freed captives.

I jumped up from my seat and headed toward the back of the ship. “Frickin’ Zygerrians,” I hissed. “They are not having my boys. Rapper, bring us in behind the village. You wait here, Maul; I’ll handle this.”

The ex-Sith lord started to rise anyway—probably only because I’d told him not to. “I am not weak,” he snapped at me.

As I hit the button to extend the ramp, I laughed. “Oh, trust me, I am fully aware of how easily you could take those guys out. But you’re half-dead, honey, plus a battle might trigger your rage, and that’s not a good look on you. Besides,” I added with a smirk, “a padawan’s gotta practice.”

I leaped out of the opening and hit the ground running. After studying the scene and extending feelers through the Force to know where I was most needed, I skirted the settlement and headed downhill to the plain. Nobody there had noticed my arrival yet, which meant that I had the element of surprise, and if I could help the Bad Batch finish off their opponents, we could return in force to hit the Zygerrians in the village from behind. I didn’t like sensing all the pain and anxiety around me, so I could only imagine how much worse it had been for the Jedi generals who’d had to deal with that for years.

About six Zygerrians still fought against my clones, with three more lying either dead or unconscious in the dirt. Hm. I could just run in there saber blazing, but confusion was a surer bet to slow them down—and way more fun. Plus, they’d be expecting shenanigans if they knew I was a Jedi. Hiding my lightsaber on the back of my belt, I raised my hands and ran toward the slavers, screaming.

“Help!” I shrieked, projecting panic. “Help! Someone get help!”

Hunter, Echo, and four of the Zygerrians paused briefly and turned to me. I felt the Zygerrians sizing up my threat level—none, they decided, since I looked like a civilian and was stupid enough to be asking them specifically for help. Perfect.

“Someone get help!” I cried again. “Please!”

Then, in the split second before their distraction ran out and as I came within range, I used the Force to coil their own electro-whips around them.

With a laugh, I flipped the switches and stunned them unconscious. “Cuz you’re gonna need it.”

Crosshair and Tech took advantage of the remaining two Zygerrians’ surprise and downed them in a couple of short moves. Hunter, on the other hand, could only stare at me. It had been so long since he’d last seen me in person, and... whoa. He hadn’t expected to see me here at all, much less with an entrance like that. All that sweet, selfless kindness he’d found appealing since we’d met was now tempered with experience, confidence, and skill. No more helplessly waiting for someone to come and rescue me. And while he’d always appreciated my sass, he’d never seen it on the battlefield before, so he had not prepared himself for how attractive he found me in action. Whoa.

Grinning and oblivious, I trotted closer and kissed the cheek of Hunter’s helmet. I’d almost died today, so why the heck not? “Afternoon, boys!”

I detected a shift in his thoughts and worried that I’d made him uncomfortable, but then I analyzed his Force signature and instantly went red. Holy crap. Holy crap. He was blushing inside his helmet, fumbling helplessly for words after that kiss had stolen all coherent thoughts from his head. I had rendered him speechless. I had. And... holy crap, he’d liked me for how long? My heartbeat spiked, and I knew he’d hear it—only he was so distracted and stunned that he didn’t even notice.

“Katie?” Echo said. “What’re you doing here?”

I pretended to ignore Hunter’s short-circuited staring, relishing the fact that I had caused it. “I’m the reason this village exists,” I responded. “These are my Nightbrothers.”

It didn’t take long for the other boys to discern both Hunter’s distraction and the reason for it, and then their laughter-filled thoughts told me that 1) they’d known for a while that he liked me, and 2) they were going to tease him mercilessly for this. I felt so giddy, warm, and in charge. Gosh, I could get used to this.

Smirking, I tilted my head toward the canyon. “Shall we?”

When I took off for the village, they followed, with Hunter last of all as he shook away the daze. Don’t lose focus, Katie, I thought. Fight first, then flirt. But holy crap, he really liked me!

The remaining Zygerrians were no match for the combined might of Sugi, me, the Bad Batch, and the Nightbrother clan. A few more minutes of battling and good old-fashioned teamwork, and the slavers were all unconscious and trapped in their own binders. While Tech called for a prisoner pickup and Echo discussed cash rewards with Sugi for her help in apprehending the criminals, Brother Viscus and I coaxed the children out of hiding. I projected peace and did my best to calm them down.

When I got to Gore, the orange-skinned boy with the doll, he ran and threw his arms around my waist. Smiling, I picked him up and set him on my hip so he could cuddle me without impeding my movement. It had taken months for him to warm up to me, but now I was one of his favorite people since I didn’t need him to speak to know what he needed.

“Oh, hush, kiddo,” I said. “Look: you’re safe now. I said no more oppression, and I meant it.”

He hugged his doll and nuzzled into my shoulder.

I sensed a familiar signature on approach and turned to see Omega running over, having finished opening the cages with Wrecker. Close behind her was Hunter, who had unfortunately (fortunately?) gotten over his breathless staring and was acting normal again.

“Tech said you were here somewhere,” Omega said. “How’s Jedi training?”

I ruffled her hair. “Master Plo says I’m advancing faster than expected; I might be ready to take the trials in just a couple years. And my students at the temple all think that I’m the best thing ever, of course.”

She giggled. “Well, they should. Echo told me you stunned four Zygerrians at once!”

“They were distracted,” I admitted. “All my cool victories only happen when the bad guys are already occupied.”

Speaking of distractions, I thought. Hunter might be acting normal now, but internally he was trying to figure out how to get me alone, ask me about that kiss...

I wouldn’t mind that, but first I had some important business to attend to. I started toward the back of the village, where Rapper had since parked the Twilight. “C’mon,” I said. “I left someone on the ship.”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure what state Maul would be in when I got back, but I didn’t sense any outstanding Darkness to be concerned about. He might still be irked that I’d left him out of the fight, though.

When I arrived, he was just coming down the ramp. A quick glance inside his head told me he’d spent the interim learning how to walk on his new legs, having waited to practice until no one was around to see him potentially fall. He hoped I didn’t know, and then was immediately annoyed to detect me skimming his thoughts.

I lifted my free hand in placation. “Sorry, sorry, force of habit. Maul, this is some of my family. Hunter and Omega, meet Maul. And this little one is Gore, from the village.”

Maul eyed everyone without a word. What could he say? He didn’t know how to have a casual conversation.

Omega misinterpreted his scrutiny. “Yeah,” she said with a shrug, “we’re clones.”

“He actually doesn’t know what clones are, honey,” I told her. I looked up at him. “Soldiers bred for a galactic civil war that lasted a couple years. It ended when Sidious died, and now they serve the Republic by hunting slavers and crime families. Hunter’s squad was crazy enough to adopt me a few months ago.”

Maul nodded slightly, almost absently. It made sense that Sidious would’ve mass-produced an army for his disposal. To my right, Hunter frowned in confusion. How could this guy not know about clones or the war?

I shifted Gore off of my hip and set the reluctant child on the ground. “Gore, sweetheart, I need you to go find Savage and Feral. Can you do that for me, honey, and bring me to them? Feral is probably tending the wounded somewhere.”

He was loath to leave my comfort, but he nodded. While he ran off to do as instructed, I straightened and looked Maul in the eyes.

“I’m gonna make this very clear, Maul: you will probably see Feral as weak and unassertive, but don’t treat him badly because of it. Savage is insanely protective of him, and you will not get along if you’re acting cruel. Feral’s just strong in other ways.”

Gore returned and took my hand, gently tugging me toward the village’s center. With a smile and a soft “follow me” head gesture at Maul, I let the kid lead me to my favorite Zabrak boys. As expected, Feral was on his knees with his healer’s bag open beside him, closing up a man’s gash with firm and even stitches. He was calm and collected despite the panic and pain around him as more wounded were brought to await care. A few paces away, Savage stood in deep conversation with Viscus.

As we approached, more and more people looked up, unable to help staring at the cyborg Zabrak I had brought. I felt him bristle under the attention. Once Sugi had said a few quick words to Savage and Feral, both boys turned to us in shock.

Brother Viscus squinted at the newcomer for a moment, and then his eyes widened. “...Maul?” he said in disbelief.

I stopped in front of the boys, prompting Maul to do the same. Please let them accept him, I thought. I took a breath. “Savage, Feral, I want you to meet your older brother. This is Maul.”

“I... I don’t understand,” Savage said. “Our kin?”

“He was taken from the clan a long time ago,” I said. “Before you were born, Savage. He’s spent most of his life enduring horrible abuse and brutal training. He’s a skilled Force-user.”

I kept careful tabs on Maul’s emotions while I spoke, even though it might annoy him, to make sure I didn’t accidentally trigger any anger. Now that he was finally face-to-face with them, he felt... lost. How did one interact with a family member? Would they even care? Did he want them to? What if they accepted him now, but then he frightened them and they drove him away? Was he even capable of living a non-Sith life? This was all so new, so uncomfortably strange.

Feral’s eyes lingered on the metal legs, and he frowned to imagine the injury that had made them necessary. His pity and compassion irritated Maul, but they didn’t make him angry. Why didn’t they make him angry?

Savage had clenched his jaw. “And, you freed him from this abuse?”

“Actually,” I confessed, “he freed himself. Twice. It was really impressive—I haven’t seen willpower like that in a long time.”

Maul’s brow furrowed. In spite of everything, I didn’t see him as weak? Sidious would have said that succumbing to hope and the Light Side had made him weaker than ever. But I saw it as a victory and proof of great strength. He had literally killed me in his insanity, yet I was praising his might. I was either an idiot, or... He hesitated. He didn’t really have a word for it. Still an idiot, but not as harsh. And maybe a tiny bit fonder.

I held my breath as the three men eyed each other, rubbing my stomach in my nervousness. But then, when I finally tuned out Maul’s thoughts to study his brothers’, I sighed silently in relief. Savage’s protective instinct was kicking into high gear, wrapping around his older brother and fixing automatic anger on anyone or anything that had caused him pain. Maul was just too distracted by his own nervousness to have sensed it yet.

“Anyway,” I said, “now that he’s chosen to leave those toxic environments behind, he needs someplace new to call home. Would it be all right with you if he stays here?”

Maul tensed. That might be exactly why we were here, but having the words finally out there was wrong. It sounded so weak, asking for a home from men who had no reason to want him. He hated feeling so vulnerable. He hated putting himself out there like this when he already knew they wouldn’t—

Savage surged forward and crushed him in a hug so tight that for a moment, Maul couldn’t breathe. In his surprise, he didn’t realize that he was staring openmouthed into space. He... h-he... Savage... As soon as Feral finished bandaging the man beside him, he rose to his feet and joined the embrace. Feral. Savage. His brothers. Maul’s Sith conditioning urged him to push them away, but instinct begged him to hug them back, just to know what it felt like. So he stood there, unmoving. Their warmth was overpowering, and it reminded him of the feelings I’d projected to him on Lotho Minor. Safety. Comfort. Life.

“Welcome home, brother,” Savage said.

Chapter Text

Maul drew in a shuddering breath. What was happening to him? Ever since he’d healed me, that shaft of Light in his soul had only grown. Brothers, an embrace, a community, a home. Force, he wanted this.

When the hug finally ended, his brothers eagerly began introducing him around and asking his backstory. It left him overwhelmed, and Maul wouldn’t change that for a minute. So this was what family felt like. While the clan all got to know him better, I pulled Savage up the street a ways for a talk. Hunter and Omega had wandered off downhill while the latter played with the Nightbrother children, so we were alone.

“You should know,” I said softly, “that he’s very proud and stubborn, and having the Force makes him incredibly dangerous when angry. Please don’t provoke him. Under his master, Maul was forced to do a lot of terrible things. He even enjoyed it for a while. He thinks you’ll all reject him once you find out what he’s done, but please don’t.”

“I would never allow that,” Savage promised. “He is my kin.”

I smiled. “I know, honey. His recovery will be long and difficult, and his pride will only make it harder. He’s not used to being part of a community. Oh, don’t worry, he can totally pull his own weight, he just... well, it’ll be different. Just be patient with him, Savage.”

He nodded, then reached out to clasp my hand with both of his. “Thank you, Katie. We owe you a great debt.”

“Oh, Maul’s already paid that,” I said with a laugh. “Saved me twice today. You look after him, okay? He needs it.” I glanced over at where Maul was (thankfully) still distracted by Feral. “Don’t ever tell him I said that, though, or he’ll be really mad.”

He chuckled. “Understood.”

Sugi danced her way past a handful of running children—Omega included—and joined Savage and me up the incline. As she neared, I sensed Savage’s insides twisting up with sudden nervousness, and I saw him subtly rub his palms on his trousers.

“Ranco’s got his hands full with these wounded,” Sugi said. “Savage, would you tell Feral we need another healer again? He’s still with your brother, and I doubt he’d even hear me if I told him.”

Savage smirked a little, though he also swallowed at her proximity. “O-of course. I’ll do that, Sugi.” He started down the street.

“Hey.” She caught his arm and smiled. “Congratulations.”

With a blush, Savage bobbed his head in a nod and hurried off to talk to his younger brother. In his wake, I raised an eyebrow.

“You know he’s got a massive crush on you, right?” I asked.

The bounty hunter laughed. “It doesn’t take a Jedi to tell that, Katie. I’m sure the whole clan knows by now.”

“You’d better not break my boy’s heart,” I warned.

“Don’t worry, my friend. I don’t plan to.”

“Oh?”

Now that I paid closer attention, she did feel much fonder of him than she was of the other Nightbrothers. I hadn’t expected that. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how well matched they were.

I tilted my head. “So, why haven’t you done anything about it? You just gonna let him keep pining for you?”

“He needs to build his confidence,” she replied. “Savage has come a long way in the past months, but he’s still fairly subservient where women are concerned, and I won’t begin a relationship with that. I want him to make the first move, when he’s ready.”

“That’s... actually a really good call. You’re kinda smart when you wanna be.”

She smirked. “What about you? Are you going to leave your sergeant suffering?”

I flushed and rolled my eyes. “He is not my sergeant.”

“Sure he’s not.” She cast an amused glance over to where Hunter now stood watching Omega play—much closer than I’d realized, which put us well within his hearing range. “It’s a shame he doesn’t know how you feel about him.”

I elbowed her side, but it was too late: Hunter had cocked his head just slightly in our direction, indicating that he had heard. I groaned softly and shot Sugi an exasperated look. “You’re a jerk sometimes, you know that?”

She grinned and started toward the front of the settlement to leave me conveniently alone up here. “You’re welcome.”

I chewed on the inside of my lip as I waited for him to turn around. What would I say? What would he say? He was too far away for me to sense his thoughts, but I imagined he was gathering his nerve, and maybe trying not to make it too obvious that he’d overheard Sugi’s comment. And why the heck was I so nervous? I already knew he liked me. Heck, he had for a while. He liked me, and after almost dying today, I finally had the confidence to do something about it. So there was nothing to be nervous about.

But as I gazed down into the heart of the village, where Maul’s brothers were trying to convince him to sit and rest—he was pretty obviously exhausted after healing me—my stomach clenched for an entirely different reason. I’d almost died today. If... if I hadn’t come back... Oh, gosh. The Bad Batch didn’t take well to losing family. There were so many things I hadn’t said to them, so many things I still wanted to do. Maybe I’d tied off my vital loose ends, but they wouldn’t have had closure. It would’ve broken their hearts.

I rubbed my abdomen, where the stab wound no longer existed. I could still remember the pain of my own blade burning through my center. Of knowing as it did that I would never see my family again. Hunter. Omega. Crosshair, Echo, Wrecker, Tech. After all these months of waiting to see them in person again, I’d almost placed an impassable barrier between us. I-I didn’t... regret going after Maul.... But if I had stayed dead...

By the time Hunter had made his way up the street to me, he could tell that something was wrong. I was massaging my stomach the way I sometimes massaged my hand, and there were tears in my eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked.

I bit my lip as it began to tremble. Then, swallowing, I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I know Jedi are supposed to be all right with solitude, but...” I shivered. “I’ve really missed you, Hunter.”

He exhaled, splaying his hands across my back. “...I missed you, too.”

I tried to stop shaking, but now that I’d thought about it, the realization wouldn’t let me go. I’d almost died today. Almost stayed dead. I never would’ve seen him again, and he never would’ve seen me. The loss would’ve hurt him so much. He probably would’ve blamed himself for not protecting me enough—m-might’ve gone to confront Maul about it—oh, Force—

“I-I’m so sorry,” I whimpered. “There were so many things I didn’t say, things I should’ve said a-and done—”

I felt him frown. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, I just...” I grabbed a fistful of his hair, needing the comfort of something in my hands. “I-it’s just shock, is all. It’ll wear off soon.”

“Shock from what? What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

To my dismay, he leaned back to look at me. “What. Happened.”

I couldn’t say it. Hunter would freak if he knew that Maul had killed me, and his fury would bring the Zabrak’s old Sith tendencies back to the surface. Then, all of Maul’s emotional progress would reverse, and the whole village would be in danger.

“Katie,” Hunter said sternly. “Tell me what happened. You tend to rub your old wounds when you’re anxious or distracted, except last I checked, you didn’t have one on your stomach. And where are your Jedi robes?” He took a deeper whiff of my scent, and his expression instantly darkened. “Is that burned flesh I smell? What happened?”

I shook my head. “I-I promise I’ll explain, but not here—not until we leave Iridonia. Please, Hunter.”

“Then let’s go,” he said. With a firm grasp on my hand, he started toward the Marauder.

But I tugged him to a stop. “I’m not telling the whole squad,” I protested. “I don’t want to scare Omega. Either you can come with me on the Twilight, or we can meet up somewhere else off-world. But not here, and not in front of her.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. I could feel his worry mounting with every passing moment, fixating on my scent and the fact that I thought the truth would scare our kid. What had I done this time? Finally, he sighed and touched the comlink on his forearm. “Looks like you all better head on without me,” he said. “Katie and I have some... things to discuss. We’ll meet up with you on Coruscant.”

“All right,” Echo responded a moment later, his tone amused. “You two take as long as you need.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

He stayed close to my side while I said my goodbyes in the village, which prompted a grin from Omega and a significant eyebrow-raise from Sugi. He wasn’t holding my hand anymore, but still, his protective warmth was comforting. The shock was beginning to subside. When I got to Maul and his brothers, I managed to plaster on a mostly-genuine smile. To be safe, I also shielded my thoughts from Force detection.

“We’re very grateful to you,” Feral told me.

I shrugged. “Eh, I’m happy to help. I’m just sorry she didn’t give you normal legs, Maul. At least they’re not super creepy like that spider apparatus. Oh, you did a great job on it, don’t get me wrong—just don’t ever do that again. Blech.”

To my surprise and satisfaction, Maul huffed out a tiny, amused chuckle. “They were meant to be frightening,” he pointed out.

“I know, and it was creepy as heck. Congratulations. Now don’t ever be a spider again.”

I sensed another laugh from him, though this one remained internal. He already felt more (hesitantly) relaxed around his brothers, so I had high hopes that it was safe to leave him with them.

My smile softened. “Some day we’ve had, huh? Thank you, Maul. So much.”

His eyes flickered downward. He’d been taught not to feel guilt over his cruelty, so his shame at stabbing me was new and uncomfortable. It would likely be a long time before he was able to forgive himself for the horrible things he’d done—heck, a large part of him still wanted to do horrible things—but he’d already come so far in just one day. As of this moment, his Force signature was about a quarter Light Side. And it didn’t take a Jedi to see that he wanted to be here.

For now, that was enough. Despite his years of Dark life, he still instinctively reached for the Light, and now he was in a healthy environment that would cultivate that instinct. He was learning to be good. Maul himself—Sith, madman, villain—was becoming good.

Chapter Text

Hunter and I made our way up the canyon to the Twilight, and we’d almost gotten to the ramp when Rapper came rolling down it and trilled something in binary. Apparently, I had an urgent incoming call from Anakin. He must’ve found my note.

“C’mon, Hunter,” I said with a sigh. “He’ll wanna yell at me, too. Might as well get both of your lectures out of the way.”

We headed up into the cockpit. Anakin was waiting there in hologram form, his arms folded and his face screwed up with frustrated worry. He had my note pinched in his cybernetic hand, and as soon as we entered, he angrily held it up.

“Are you crazy?” he said. “You seriously wanted to take on Talzin and Maul alone? Get back here, now. I’m not letting you out of my sight again until you give up on this suicide mission.”

Hunter frowned. “What is he talking about?”

Anakin flipped the note around and read, “‘I think I might be able to save Maul. My only chance for success is if I go alone, since all of you are too protective and untrusting and would end up provoking his rage. With him being insane, I’ll also have to ask for Mother Talzin’s help to heal his mind. I’m fully aware of the risks, but I have to try. Since the Council would never approve, and all of you would only try to stop me, I’m not asking permission. Sorry. I’ll try to be back, or at least in contact, by the next rotation. If this doesn’t work, know that I love you all so much. Please don’t blame yourselves. Katie.’” He flicked the note away and glared in exasperation. “I don’t care what reasons you think you have for this—there is no way I’m letting my sister go after a Sith lord.”

Hunter rounded on me. “He was a Sith?” he exclaimed. “What were you thinking?”

“I knew there was good in him somewhere,” I responded. “I had to try.”

“Wha... You already went?” Anakin cried. “Are you insane? You could’ve died!”

I laughed nervously. “Yeah, so... funny story...” I reached into a side compartment and pulled out my scorched Jedi clothes. “I sort of did.”

Rapper screeched in panic, and the ship wobbled a little. Thank goodness he’d already gotten us off the planet, cuz he and Hunter looked ready to pick a serious fight with my new Zabrak friend.

Even through the hologram, I could see that Anakin had gone a bit pale. “Hunter, get her to a medical frigate.”

“That’s not necessary,” I insisted. “Maul already healed me, and the med droid onboard says I’m fine. And Force-healing is a Light Side ability, by the way, which is further proof that he can be good.”

“That’s not... that’s not even a real thing!”

“Is too,” I said. “I already told Yoda about it; you just weren’t there for that part.”

“We’re going to a hospital,” Hunter said.

As he reached to punch in new coordinates, I grabbed his hand off the console and gave it a squeeze. “Would you just let me explain first?”

He scowled, but my insistent gaze convinced him to grudgingly allow me to continue. I recounted the day’s events from my first visit to Dathomir up till now, making sure to emphasize Maul’s good decisions and his gradual ascent into the Light. This was Rapper’s first time hearing about the stabbing, so he was just as upset as Hunter and Anakin were. With each new word, it seemed, Hunter’s grip on my fingers grew tighter.

Anakin threw his hands up in the air. “He’s a Sith lord, Katie. He can’t be good. I know you’re happy to be alive, and I’m glad you are, but he only did it because he was insane. Any good you think you sense in him is just a lie to make you trust him. Palpatine did the same to me.”

“Ani, it’s my job to study people’s emotions,” I reminded him, “and I was listening to his thoughts the whole day. He tried to shield them, but after healing me, he was too weak to keep me out. When I tell you he’s turning Light, I mean he’s actually learning how to hope and even wanna change a little.” I smiled wryly. “He’s really mad about it.”

“How can you defend him?” Hunter asked. “He killed you. Back there, you even thanked him.”

I sighed, clutching his hand so I wouldn’t start rubbing my stomach again. “Honestly, dying gave me a lot of perspective. I mean, I thought I was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. Being angry wouldn’t change anything. Crying wouldn’t change anything. I was dead, and that was that. But when I heard his thoughts, I... Guys, that hurt more than the lightsaber. There was just so much pain.

“Since he was crazy, he wasn’t really clinging to the Dark Side or any logical reasoning; it was all just instinct, y’know? And with that instinct, he should’ve wanted to eat me, but he didn’t—because I had said I wanted to help him. And in his head, he was begging for that help. He was... he was just a lost little boy. Lost and alone and never once loved in his entire life.” I brushed away a tear. “I showed him happiness—just happiness, no convincing or anything—and it affected him so strongly that he instinctively reached into the Light to save me. Then, when Talzin tried to hurt me, he instinctively saved me again. He wants to be good.”

Anakin rubbed his face in tired vexation. “That doesn’t change the things he’s done. He still killed Master Qui-Gon—and he didn’t try to bring him back. He tried to kill Obi-Wan, too.”

“And if you’d gone Dark,” I snapped, “you would’ve succeeded.”

Already opening his mouth to retort again, Anakin froze.

“Your sins would’ve made him look like a playground bully by comparison,” I said. “The things you find abhorrent now, you wouldn’t have had a problem with as a Sith. The Dark Side strips you of yourself, Anakin. But you were saved, and look at how good you are. I’m convinced that with the right support system, Maul can become good, too. Remember, Hunter had no idea that he was a Sith until you told him. He doesn’t seem or feel evil anymore.”

I could feel both of their anger dissipating, softening into concerned frustration. With his free hand, Hunter traced the burnt holes in my Jedi tunic and cloak. Try as he might not to imagine me dying on a lightsaber blade, the scorched smell and my still-elevated pulse kept it at the forefront of his thoughts. She’s still here, soldier, I heard him remind himself. She’s still here.

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are... infuriating, Katie. You’re lucky I found this and not the Council.”

“I know I scared you,” I said. “Both of you. And I’m really sorry. But... I’m not going to apologize for saving someone. I-if it makes you feel any better, there aren’t any more Sith out there for me to try to rescue.”

“You always find something,” Hunter grumbled.

I chewed on my lip. Instead of massaging away phantom pains, I had begun to fidget with Hunter’s hand, drawing lines up and down his gloved fingers and making circles on his palm. He didn’t mind, and moreover, I sensed him taking comfort in my touch, which made me smile faintly. At least he wasn’t totally annoyed at me anymore.

Noticing this, Anakin rolled his eyes and reluctantly said, “I guess I’ll let you go now. But you’d still better be back on Coruscant by tonight, understood?”

“Don’t worry,” I said, throwing in a small laugh to lighten his mood. “We’re on our way back now.”

“I’ll make sure she gets there in one piece,” Hunter added.

Anakin nodded to us both, groaned a little, and then ended the transmission. In front of me, Rapper turned his dome around and beeped something in half-relief, half-annoyance.

I patted his head. “I know, I know. I promise I’ll never ask you to fly me to my death again. Once is enough for me.”

Other than rubbing his thumb over my knuckles absently, Hunter didn’t move. His gaze was fixed on my brown Jedi cloak, which rested on the console, and I sensed that his thoughts were still twisted with concern and sensory overwhelm. He could tell I was still a little upset myself, and he didn’t want to aggravate that, but he was so worried that he could barely breathe.

I stood and grabbed the bundle of burnt fabric. “Okay, I am putting this away now. The smell is making you anxious.” As I sought out a farther-away compartment to stash my damaged clothes in, I chuckled. “You know, if Anakin gets his way, I’ll probably be on house arrest for the next month. And just when I was hoping to spend more time with you guys, too.”

Hunter swallowed, trying to find his voice. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Your heartbeat hasn’t evened out yet.”

“I’m fine,” I told him.

But I was lying, and he knew it. Rising to his feet, he approached me from behind and put a hand on my hip. He didn’t say anything, just waited for me to continue.

“I really am doing better,” I insisted. “I just need to finish processing the shock; I didn’t want to do it with Maul or Omega around. I-I mean, I actually died, and that’s really weird. Although, dying wasn’t really the worst part, I don’t think. Oh, it hurt, yeah, but...” I cleared my throat. “But I didn’t really realize until Iridonia that s-staying dead would’ve meant never seeing you again, and... a-and you would’ve...”

Gently, Hunter turned me around and pulled me into an embrace. With a shudder, I tucked my head under his chin.

“I never said goodbye,” I whispered. “That would have been so hard on our squad, and I’m so sorry. I almost left you without closure or... o-or anything. I’m so sorry, Hunter.”

He hugged me closer. “What’s done is done. Just promise me you won’t ever do it again.”

“I...” I hesitated. “Honestly, I don’t know if...”

“Promise me.”

I sighed. “I promise.”

Although he relaxed slightly, he didn’t let me go an inch. “You really don’t care if you die, do you?” he asked.

“W-well,” I said, shrugging, “I don’t want to die, but if it needs to happen—”

“Stop.” He was annoyed again. “Death is never an option, understood? That’s something you’d better learn as part of this squad. It’s the one rule we never break.”

“It’s not always something you can control,” I murmured.

He leaned back to look me in the eyes. “Death is never an option,” he repeated. “Am I clear, Katie?”

I swallowed. His gaze was so intense—almost desperate. “Understood, Sergeant.”

He shook his head. “You really are infuriating.”

Gripping me securely against his chestplate, Hunter dipped his head down and captured my lips in a long, slow kiss. Warmth blossomed across my skin, burning away the rest of the shock and anxiety. He wanted me. Even after all my recklessness, and after I’d made him so upset, he still wanted me. With a sigh, I strung my arms around his neck and kissed him back, smiling as I felt his worry melt away. I could get so used to this.

His hand shifted on my hip, his right thumb stroking over my abdomen—feeling through the fabric for a burn or wound. Smirking, I broke away from his mouth to mumble, “I told you, there’s nothing there.”

“Just checking,” he replied. “You do have a history of lying to me.”

“And you’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Nope.”

I giggled. “You worry too much. I’m not always a maniac.”

“No,” he muttered, nuzzling into my neck, “just ninety percent of the time.” He inhaled my scent, which was warm and comforting and was beginning to lose the scorched tinge at last.

“Hey,” I said, “I’m trying, okay?”

“Not very hard.”

“That’s kinda funny coming from you, Mr. Let’s-Cause-Chaos-and-Break-All-the-Rules.” I twisted my fingers into his hair, reveling in his affection, but I hesitated before adding, “You know... I could be your maniac, though... if you wanted....”

Hunter chuckled wryly. “After that kiss,” he said, “you’d better be.”

“Oh good, cuz mind-tricking someone into a relationship is generally frowned upon, last I checked.”

He laughed.

“You think we should tell the rest of the squad?” I asked. “Or do they already know?”

“Oh, they know,” Hunter told me. I sensed a blush as he admitted, “They’ve been teasing me about you for months.”

I grinned. “Oh, really? Well, I’ve liked you since before we even met, so ha. I win.”

He rolled his eyes, his internal satisfaction swelling. “You’re ridiculous,” he said. He kissed me again.

I felt so light I could drift away, floating on the happiness and relief that I was here, I was safe, I was home. And yet, I had never felt more anchored in all my life. I had a place in this galaxy, a family, a purpose—more than a million reasons to stay exactly where I was and do exactly what I was doing. Umbara, Order 66, and the war for Mandalore had all been averted. No more Shadow Collective, no more Sith Order, and no more Empire. Sure, Talzin might still try to steal power from the Bardottans, but my information would help us be ready for it. I was changing things. Saving people. Bringing the galaxy hope, and learning how to belong somewhere. I belonged.

After a lifetime of letting go and leaving, I finally belonged.