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Chapter Text

[Massassi Temple, Yavin 4]

The whole situation in the Great Temple was tense and chaotic. The Death Star had been destroyed. The greatest threat to the galaxy was gone, but the Empire would not give in so easily. The Empire would retaliate, eventually. The rebels knew they had some time to prepare, as the Empire reeled itself back in from the catastrophic loss, but when they did the counterattack would come and it would hit hard. The Rebel Alliance had one key priority now, leave Yavin 4 and find a new base of operations. But where?

In the meeting room of the Alliance, several high-ranking members are present. Captains, commanders, admirals, generals, former senators, and many others.

Rex Skywalker, the pilot who had fired the shot that blew up the Death Star, was also present. Along with him was Pyra, the Force spirit he was connected to through the Force. Even though he was just an aspiring youth at the moment, Rex was still the closest the Alliance had to a Jedi.

Many others Rex knew were also in attendance. Princess Mythra Origo of the destroyed planet Torna, the smuggler duo Nia Solo and Dromarch, Tora the Nopon mechanic and his droid companions, the very human-like advanced protocol droid C-3PO-π, or just Poppi, and the red and blue striped astromech R2-D5. Rex also saw Akhos, with Obrona standing behind him. Crossette was also present. But the ones who had everyone’s attention was the highest-ranked leaders.

Rex already knew General Jan Dodonna. Also present was the Mon Calamari admiral Gial Ackbar, and the former senator serving as political head of the Alliance, Mon Mothma of Chandrila.

General Dodonna was the first to speak.

“We need to evacuate Base One immediately. The Empire could retaliate at any moment.”

“If we leave now, it will be a sign of weakness to the galaxy,” Mon Mothma responded. “We need to stand our ground, for now at least. Show that we are not afraid of the Empire anymore.”

“She’s right!” someone else said, a man of tan complexion, graying black hair, and a respectable beard. “Our show of defiance will convince more to come join our cause. If we flee immediately, they’ll have nowhere to go, and might fall under the Empire’s fold again.”

“We can multitask with standing our ground and evacuating,” Akhos spoke up. “It’s going to take some time to move all the equipment and personnel here. In that time, we can openly welcome new supporters even as we’re evacuating things of key importance.”

General murmurs around the place implied most agreed to Akhos’ proposal.

“Everyone will need to assist in the procedure,” Dodonna said. “We’ll need to assign everyone to a station of dismantling and transportation.”

“If we call back the bulk of the fleet, we’ll have more ships to transport equipment and people,” Admiral Ackbar said. “And it could assist in deterring the Empire from striking back for a time.”

“I sure hope it will,” someone said, a lady with cream-white clothes and dark skin contrasting it. “Calling the whole fleet here would be a great risk. We cannot afford capital ships as easily as the Empire.”

“I am well aware of that, senator,” Ackbar responded. “But the Empire is in disarray at the moment. If we display our own strength, the Empire might be reluctant to attack. And if they do, we will not be completely undefended.”

“We’ll be using the Tarkin doctrine against them. Very clever,” someone complimented the admiral.

“Having ships to transport our resources is good,” Dodonna began. “But we’ll need somewhere for it to go. We should send out scouts to look for new safe places of operation, even if they’ll only be small and temporary.”

“Our mobility is our greatest asset,” Ackbar concurred. “Several safe caches and redoubts will be necessary.”

“We could divide as much as half of our combined assets here,” a commander spoke up. “The most crucial resources and people we can hide on safe worlds and secret bunkers, and keep the remainder mobile on the Alliance Fleet. Until we can relocate to a new main base of operations.”

“But where could we move to in order to stay safe during that whole process?” Rex spoke up for the first time. “The Empire’s everywhere.”

“We could move to Mon Cala,” someone proposed.

“That’s out of the question,” Admiral Ackbar responded. “The Empire knows of our deep rebel sympathies. It’ll be too obvious, too dangerous. Mon Cala is not safe for us.”

“Alderaan wouldn’t be safe either, especially for the fleet,” the same tan man from before said.

“Senator Organa is right,” Mon Mothma said. “The Empire will surely tighten it’s grip on the Core, including both Alderaan and Chandrila. I reckon the Mid and Outer Rim are our best options.”

“What about Lothal?” someone suggested.

“No, our full presence would expose them too much,” Dodonna responded. “We cannot put too much pressure on an unwilling planet.” Dodonna pondered for a few moments before continuing. “Our best option is to move on to empty pockets of space whilst our scouts search out suitable locations. We should also expect defectors from the Empire to come our way. We could inter them for any knowledge they might have of regions with weak imperial presence.”

“We can’t just sit out and wait for people to hopefully come to us,” Princess Mythra spoke up this time. “We need to actively reach out to potential allies. Be they smaller cells that haven’t joined the Alliance yet, or full-scale planetary leaders. We need to get off our ass and show off some diplomatic muscle as well.”

“There are several worlds where we might find support,” Mon Mothma agreed. “If we reach out to them quickly, we could bolster our ranks exponentially.”

“I might be able to dig up some old contacts on Kyrimorut,” someone said. Rex saw the man was of older age, with a large white beard that could rival General Dodonna’s. He was wearing parts of white armor with blue stripes, which was probably a lot shinier in its glory days. An experienced veteran, that was for sure.

“Kyrimorut?” a confused individual asked. “Isn’t that just an agri-world in Mandalorian space?”

“Like I said,” the old captain responded. “I might be able to get some contacts there.”

“If the Mandalorian resistance joins the larger rebellion,” Admiral Ackbar began. “Then that alone could even our chances against the Empire significantly.”

“We should also reach out to any surviving Separatist Holdouts,” Crossette spoke up.

“I doubt any of those have survived this long,” Akhos shot back, though his tone spoke only of partial disbelief. “But if you can locate any then we could surely use them amongst our ranks.”

“Our course of action has been decided,” Dodonna proclaimed, most likely wanting to get on with the evac as soon as possible. “Everyone, to your stations. Your commanders will assign roles for you. We’ll need everyone in on this effort. May the Force be with you.”

With that, the gathering dispersed and everyone rushed to their duties of either assigning or being assigned.

…

[Massassi base, hangar]

Mythra needed to be quick. She had duties to attend to but there were a few people she wanted to talk to first, before some of them potentially left. Rushing down through the halls of the hangar, she eventually reached where the Millennium Falcon stood parked, and a slightly agitated Nia Solo standing next to it. As she turned around, she saw the approaching princess and waved her over.

“Oi, princess. Am I transporting you as well?” she asked, sarcasm in her tone.

“Just wanted to make sure you actually in on this,” Mythra cheerily responded as she closed the distance. “Wouldn’t want you ditching us again, y’know?”

“Yeah, figured I might as well stay,” Nia said, rolling her eyes as she spoke. “Empire’s gonna have it out for me now on top of everything Bana’s gonna send my way. Might as well pitch in what I got here.” She looked back at the Falcon for a moment, at a few crewmen hauling some cargo up the boarding ramp, supervised by Dromarch. “Though I can’t say I’m in love with being put on transport duty.”

Mythra couldn’t help but chuckle at Nia’s remark. “You’re literally a smuggler with a freighter. You’re perfect for the job.”

“Yeah, I am the best,” Nia shamelessly gloated. The two of them stood in silence for a few more moments, watching the cargo being hauled on board. Most likely weapons and ammunition. “Oi, don’t you have somewhere to be as well?” Nia asked as she looked back at Mythra.

“Yeah, just wanted to check up on you before you left,” Mythra said. But Nia was right, she had places to be. Knowing that, Mythra got to moving again. “Thanks again for staying!” she shouted back to Nia as she left, to which the smuggler gave a wave in response.

Moving back under the roof of the temple hangar to where all the X-wings stood, Mythra saw Rex next to his fighter, fully dressed up in pilot attire and seemingly ready to leave soon. Mythra hurried over to him.

“Rex!” she called out to get his attention. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, I’ve been assigned to scouting duty,” Rex said. Unlike Nia, he didn’t seem annoyed by his assignment. “Good thing too. I was hoping to drop by Tatooine when I got the chance.”

The mention of that desert planet only confused Mythra as she cocked her head to the side in questioning. Pyra noticed and was kind enough to answer her quickly.

“We were hoping to drop by master Dunban’s old home,” she said. “Maybe there’ll be something there that can help broaden Rex’s understanding of the Force.”

“Yeah, suppose that’d be useful,” Mythra nodded. She didn’t really understand that whole Force thing any better, but Rex and Pyra seemed determined to learn it. “I just wanted to catch up with you before you left. But I’m not gonna hold you down any longer.”

Rex and Pyra both chuckled at Mythra’s remark. As the princess moved on, the duo returned their focus to the X-wing.

From there, Mythra moved on down to the data centers in the base. There was a very specific job she needed help with.

Looking around the place, she saw just the person she wanted. Hard at work at some computer stuff, but that would have to be put aside.

“Obrona,” Mythra said as she walked up to her. Obrona turned her head to the princess.

“Oh, hey princess! What brings you here?” Obrona gave Mythra a smile but now was not the time for pleasantries.

“I need your help with something,” Mythra began. “You’re good at remotely accessing data banks, deciphering word codes, and reading situations based on limited information, right?” Obrona nodded at the question, still smiling though clearly understanding the seriousness of the situation. “I need your help locating survivors of Torna, and what the Empire might do to them.”

…

[Star destroyer The Silent]

The hologram shut down and the Special Inquisitor rose up from her kneeling position. The Emperor’s orders had been precise and unmistakable. The time to strike at the rebel base had finally arrived. The bridge had been in complete silence during the messaging, but now all personnel wasted no time in getting back to work.

The Emperor had not held back in his insults towards Darth Jin. Claiming how the Sith Lord had been an incompetent fool, a failure after what had happened to the Death Star. He would not be allowed to lead the ground assault against the rebels on Yavin 4. The Special Inquisitor would.

“I think he is finally recognizing your military expertise,” Brighid said, taking into account the Emperor’s remarks.

“Compliments or not, we have expectations to live up to,” the Inquisitor responded. She walked over to the front window on the bridge. Gazing out, she saw red gas giant Yavin, and the small green moon which had proven such a nuisance.

No, a threat. A genuine threat. If they continued to consider the rebels a mere nuisance, then more humiliating defeats awaited the Empire. Underestimating the rebels had spelled doom for the Death Star. And that’s why the Special Inquisitor was treating this like a genuine threat, to be crushed with full military might.

A dozen star cruisers, mostly star destroyers, had been gathered, including Darth Jin’s own flagship the Devastator. Between them, thousands of troopers, fighters, bombers, walkers, and other heavy artillery would all crush whatever they would face down. But she knew they wouldn’t face down enough. The rebels had been fast and efficient with evacuating the moon, in spite of the blockade. Their own fleet of capital ships had put pressure on her star destroyers. By the time she was backed up with the firepower to confront them, too much had already been moved. And too many had joined the rebels.

The Special Inquisitor had demanded reports on it every single day. Intel and information of how many ships were seen going to and leaving Yavin 4. By the time enough star destroyers had arrived to back her up, hundreds, maybe thousands of ships, had all gone back and forth from the moon. Damn those rebel scum. And damn all those captains that had hesitated in reinforcing the blockade, under the pretext that “the rebels would attack” if they pulled their forces out. The rebels wouldn’t be able to attack if they had all been choked on the moon.

“Save that anger for the ground assault,” Brighid commented, feeling the Inquisitor’s emotions. She was right. That anger was best spent elsewhere.

“Captain Patroka,” the Inquisitor called out as she turned to face the black-haired captain, walking away from the windows and down to where Patroka stood. “Give me the details. How effective of a resistance should we expect?”

The captain looked over some of the numbers, reports, and estimations on her data pad. “Heavy,” Patroka responded matter-of-factly. “We should expect most of their non-combatants and vital equipment to be long gone, but there’s still gonna be a lot of soldiers down there.  Then there’s all their fighters and capital ships still orbiting. We have reason to suspect Wookiee rebels from Kashyyyk have also reinforced their defenses.”

The Inquisitor thought it all through for a few moments, gears in her head turning as she laid out the final steps in the strategy she had spent weeks planning now.

“Set up a call to all cruisers present,” she ordered. Once she had the full attention of every commanding officer on-board every ship, she laid out the assault plan. “We have a dozen cruisers, and will use every one to it’s fullest. The Silent and the Invader will spearhead and engage the enemy fleet, keeping pressure on the rebel cruisers. We have two vindicator-class cruisers, they will establish a perimeter and allow our one interdictor a flanking position, denying any rebels escape into hyperspace. The remaining star destroyers will provide support and fill in the gaps as the situation demands it. All available TIE fighters on board the Silent, Invader, and the Devastator are to be scrambled and engage rebel fighters and assist in neutralizing capital ships and transports. All fighters on both vindicators and the interdictor are to explicitly provide cover to their respective cruiser. All fighters on board the Terrorizer are to be on stand-by and ready to fill in for any losses amounted in space. The Imperium is to send all its TIE fighters and bombers to the surface of Yavin 4, where they are to neutralize any still-grounded fighters, transports, or artillery. Following this, the Imperium and the Decapitator are to descend to the surface and deploy our landing craft for troopers and heavy weaponry. I give captain Patroka supreme command of the naval engagement. I shall personally lead and partake in the ground battle. That will be all.”

With her orders given, the call to the other cruisers was shut down and the Inquisitor marched up to the windows of the bridge again. Immediately and without hesitation, the Silent began moving forward to engage the rebels, closely followed by the Invader.

The opposing rebel cruisers reacted immediately. Up until now, the cruisers on both sides had been facing towards each other in a tense stand-off for weeks. But now, several of the rebel cruisers began turning around and face towards open space. They weren’t even going to battle, or wait for shipments from the moon. They turned tail and ran away immediately.

“Captain, the rebels are preparing to jump into hyperspace!” a lieutenant officer informed, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

“Send forth the interdictor, I’m not going to have them run away now,” captain Patroka barked as she ordered. “And open fire, dammit!”

From the corner of her eyes, the Inquisitor saw the vindicator cruisers surge forward, covering for the interdictor. The Silent and the Invader opened fire upon the rebel ships. Although several had their rear engines facing the star destroyers, she knew their shields would hold and the engines would go unharmed. Even as TIE fighters flew out from the destroyers, she saw one after another rebel ship upon rebel ship flee into hyperspace.

Run. Run, you cowards.

But not all got away. Some cruisers remained in orbit. Some because they chose to, opening fire back upon the star destroyers, scrambling fighters out of their own hangars. Others stayed because they were trapped. The interdictor had finally gotten in range, trapping the cruisers in it’s artificial gravity well.

As the Silent and Invader closed the gap between the cruisers, it was now as if she could stare down the Mon Calamari in bridge of the rebel ships. Turbolasers flew back and forth between the engaging cruisers, tearing away at shields and hulls until one side would finally break. But standing here and watching it was of no interest to the Inquisitor. She turned around and headed for the exit of the bridge, Brighid silently following.

“Shall I call to have a shuttle prepared?” an officer asked. A reasonable thought. How could she lead the land forces if she was not on the destroyers that housed the landing crafts? But a shuttle would not do. She would not just sit back, not for one moment.

“Negative,” the Inquisitor responded. “Have my fighter prepared.”

As the Special Inquisitor reaches the hangar area, she sees her personal TIE interceptor primed and at the ready. She marches forward and enters the cockpit. She doesn’t have to look, she already knows where Brighid is, that’s how in-sync they’ve been for nigh two decades. The interceptor takes off and flies into space to join the fray. 

…

[Massassi Temple, Yavin 4]

A massive explosion lights up the forest as the transport vessel is bombed to pieces. The TIE bombers swoop overhead and take a long turn, preparing for another bombing run. Most of the grounded transport ships had been turned into charred husks by now.

Rex had truly picked the perfect timing to return to Yavin 4. But as much as he wanted to hop into his X-wing and shoot down some TIEs, it seemed his commanding officer had other plans for him.

“Rex! Come on over here, follow me,” the commander shouted, to which Rex responded, running towards him closely followed by Pyra. Falling in line, the commander continued as they walked.

“You’re a damn good pilot, so I’m gonna need you to provide cover so for one of our ships. It’s a shuttle, you and three other pilots will be defending it until they can escape into hyperspace, then you’ll follow after it to make sure it all goes well. Sync up your coordinates with those given by the shuttle and it’ll all be good.”

“Got it,” Rex responded. “What then? Await further orders?”

“You’ll get your further orders now,” the commander continued. “Don’t come back to Yavin. Go to Crait and check up on our base installations there.”

“Yes sir.” A quick escort and then escape into hyperspace. In theory that shouldn’t be too hard, but the Empire was coming down full force on the moon. Another set of large explosions rocked the base, reminding Rex of the very thing he was just thinking about.

“When we’re done at Crait, maybe we’ll have time to drop by Tatooine,” Pyra suggested, to which Rex enthusiastically nodded, agreeing with her proposal.

“Rex! Pyra!” someone called out, and Rex looked ahead to see Crossette waving and running towards them. “So you’ll be the ones escorting me, huh? Well then I’m in safe hands,” she said with a cheerful smile.

“Are you gonna pilot the shuttle?” Pyra asked, not taking the near-human for a pilot.

“No, not at all,” Crossette laughed as she responded. “I’m just a passenger. Although after we drop off the supplies and passengers at the Home One, I’ll be taking it to Nexulon. Been assigned a mission that’ll hopefully bear fruit there.”

“Well, good luck on that,” Rex said as he patted Crossette on the shoulder. “But you should probably get on board the shuttle now. I’ll be jumping into my X-wing and we’ll guide you to safety.”

“Right, see ya on the flipside!” Crossette shouted back as she ran to the shuttle.

Finding his X-wing, Rex climbed up and jumped on in, looking behind him after Pyra.

“Right here,” her voice said inside his head, to which Rex simply grinned and shook his head, still not over how weird that was.

The X-wing takes off and flies to the shuttle. Three other X-wings fall in line, and all ships ascend up into the sky as fast as they can. Massassi base was lost, they all knew that. But so long as they escaped, they could continue the fight from elsewhere.

…

[space above Yavin 4]

“Fire missiles!”

The interceptor and the fighters following it all sent their missiles flying, hitting the hammerhead corvette and shaking the vessel. Not much fight left in that ship, that was certain.

“On your left,” Brighid’s voice said, and the Inquisitor instantly began evasive maneuvers as enemy fighters came in from the side and blasted away at the TIEs. One of the Inquisitors followers was fast enough to react and pull away, the other was not so lucky.

She didn’t bother chasing after the rebels in their fighters, and they did not give chase either. The whole space was too chaotic for that. Instead, something else drew the Inquisitor’s attention, something she hadn’t expected.

A strong presence in the Force.

She looked about and saw a squad of fighters and a shuttle ascending from the moon. Needing only a split second to decide, she instantly headed their way, opening fire towards the fighters in the process.

The rebel ships responded duly, two breaking formation to charge the interceptor, two others staying close to the shuttle as it tried to fly away.

Even as she flew headfirst towards enemy fire, the Inquisitor hardly even broke a sweat. With a firm grip on the controls, she flew smoothly through the array of lasers and fired back. One X-wing was overwhelmed by laserfire and blew up. As she and the other X-wing brushed past each other, the Inquisitor made a sharp and swift turn, bringing the interceptor around and firing away. The second X-wing blew up moments later.

As silent as she had been, it was as if Brighid had held her hands on the control sticks and helped guide the TIE forward. The Inquisitor felt as if Brighid was right behind her in that tiny cramped cockpit. The culmination of years of training and practice had made them so in-sync both physically and through the Force.

The interceptor quickly caught up to the shuttle and the fighters, but they had gotten a long way out now. Soon they’d be out of range from the interdictor star destroyer, and could escape into hyperspace. But that presence she felt in the Force, she had to follow it.

Another fighter broke off to engage her TIE. She felt that presence from the X-wing. That pilot was no ordinary pilot. It was almost familiar.

With the Inquisitor hot on his tail, the pilot was unable to make any evasive maneuvers to get away. The interceptor fired away, aiming for the engines in order to damage them, but the pilot dodged them with ease. Those missed shots would be the only chance she’d get. She saw the engines light up brightly, and in an instant the fighter jumped into hyperspace. The Inquisitor sighed as she looked behind her and saw how far away the interdictor was. Out of range.

Deciding not to dwell on one escaped pilot, she turned the interceptor around and returned to the battlefield.

“Special Inquisitor,” a call from the Imperium came in. “We are ready to start the descend.”

“Get to it, commander, I’m on my way,” she responded. Flying swiftly and ignoring the combat she headed straight for the hangar of the descending Imperium.

…

[Surface of Yavin 4]

Burning away a massive patch of jungle to make a landing zone was no hard task for the imperial forces. The landing crafts were heavily armored so no artillery or turrets the rebels still had would do any serious damage. The real problem would be actually surviving long enough to enjoy their foothold on the ground. As soon as the vessel landed and opened its large boarding platform, the first thing that met the imperial troops was a torrent of blaster fire from rebel positions. The first ship was massacred. The following ships were a bit more lucky, able to harass the rebels with light cannon fire now that their positions were exposed. Steadily, more and more landing craft connected to the ground and deployed the troops within, then took off and left to make room for additional landing craft. As stormtroopers rushed out and engaged the rebels, firing back with all the pent-up anger from the loss of the Death Star.

The Special Inquisitor stood at the very front of a large squad of troopers in a landing craft, crammed to the brim with as many soldiers as would fit. As turbulent as the way down had been, it was nothing compared to what they would face. The large door opened up and became a boarding ramp, and the troops readied to rush into the jungle. In each hand, the Inquisitor held those two hilts she had been wielding for years. Her direct connection to Brighid. The boarding ramp slams down on the ground hard, and as the vessel is emptied of troops rushing out, the Special Inquisitor lets out a shout to inspire the troops.

“For the Empire!” she shouts as she activates the hilts and see those bright crimson blades emerge. One lightsaber held high as she shouts, with the troops shouting back a wordless cry of determination and loyalty. A shout for the Empire.

The entire forest was a mess of sounds and chaos. Troopers shouting commands and warnings to each other both over commlinks and physically. Blaster bolts flying in every direction, raining down on the imperials from high ground, be it mere hilltops or trees or turret towers. Light hovertanks gliding across the ground, firing missiles and heavy blaster bolts. Grenades thrown, rocket launchers blasting away, even the roaring of Wookiees could be heard as they tore through stormtrooper ranks both with their bowcasters and sheer strength.

But none of the troopers were particularly phased by the unfolding bloodshed. They were all lusting for revenge on those rebel scum.

The plan forward was simple for the ground troops. Capture key positions on the way to the main temple where the rebels were entrenched. An old fountain. A viaduct. An empty, ancient pool. Then a rush to the Great Temple. The initial ruins had already been captured and firmly secured by the time the Special Inquisitor could arrive, but it was all uphill battle from there, and the rebels made full use of their high ground. Even now, imperials were being mowed down by the heavy rebel resistance firing down full force at anyone who attempted to scale the hill, blaster bolts and grenades tearing through the stormtrooper ranks. But entrenched opponents were clustered opponents, and easy to crush with a single, well-aimed strike. Surgical precision was required, but it would not be so delicate.

“Get me rocket launchers towards that hill now!” the Special Inquisitor shouted in an order.

Just as ordered, two troopers came running up carrying heavy shoulder-mounted rocket launchers.

“Do not waste any more time than necessary when aiming and firing,” the Inquisitor commanded. “I do not want any rebels running away before the blast. We will provide you with cover, now go.” Wordlessly, the Inquisitor handed one of her lightsabers over to Brighid, taking hold of it without a moment of hesitation. The both of them marched forward, backed up by a few troopers firing at the rebels, and set up a perimeter for the counterattack. Through the Force and a lifetime of experience on the battlefield, the Inquisitor and Brighid were both able to easily dodge and deflect blaster bolts with their lightsabers. Red clashed with red as rebel fire was countered to every other direction, away from imperial forces. With their moment at the ready, both of the heavy-assault stormtroopers lunged forward from their positions, took aim, and fired away. As missiles flew through the air and exploded upon contact with rebel positions, the assault form uphill ceased in an instant. In the rebel’s defensive line, there was now a massive hole. And an opportunity that would not go to waste.

The Special Inquisitor was on the move in an instant, rushing forward and up the hill, closely followed by Brighid, with stormtroopers trailing behind as well. Jumping through the smoke from the explosion, she could feel the fear rushing through the remaining rebels holding position. Terror at the mere presence of the Force-wielder. The last thing they would ever feel, alongside pain. One swift slash to her side, cutting down the rebel where he stood, followed by another strike on the dead man’s comrade. Behind her, the Inquisitor heard how Brighid cut down several rebel soldiers, as swiftly and efficiently as she herself did. The two of them were in perfect sync in how they tore through the enemy ranks. One rebel is just quick enough to pull up his blaster and try to shoot, but the Special Inquisitor slices off the blaster head and then cuts down the soldier. It all takes a moment, but when that moment has passed the Inquisitor and Brighid stand surrounded by corpses, stormtroopers rushing up the hill to establish control of the position.

“Commander, status report,” the Inquisitor ordered as she turned to a commanding stormtrooper officer.

“We have hovertanks pushing through enemy ranks on all fronts,” the commander responded. Just in that moment, a hovertank could be seen racing up the hill behind, firing its gunners and missiles at the enemy. “AT-ST walkers have also been deployed. The frontline west of here remains stagnant, and our current position is the greatest push we’ve made thus far.”

“Keep the walkers on the west front, and send additional trooper reinforcements to them. I don’t want any rebels to flank our positions.” The Inquisitor stood for a moment to gaze about the battlefield in front of them. Their positions under the ancient viaduct was secure, but the forest was thinning, and their troopers would be more and more exposed the closer they got to the Great Temple.

“We’ll have to make a rush for it,” Brighid spoke up, putting to word what the Inquisitor was thinking. “Push through the rebel lines. Catch the remainders in a pincer movement in conjunction with the advancing western front.” The Inquisitor needed only give a curt nod to signify her agreement with Brighid’s plan. Overwhelm the rebels with superior firepower. Pressure them on multiple fronts.

“If we entrench ourselves at the next key position,” the trooper commander began, tilting his head towards the aforementioned location further up the way. “We can be reinforced by more of our infantry that still haven’t gone directly to the front.”

“I will not allow us to sit exposed while waiting for stragglers,” the Inquisitor harshly responded. “Either they catch up or get left behind. We take the ancient pool then march straight for their temple.”

Nodding at the orders of his superior, the commander turned to shout orders further to other troopers. With a clear goal, the stormtroopers ran through the forest towards the targeted position, and towards the huge glade in which the temple stood.

The Inquisitor fell into a steady march as troopers rushed past her. Blaster bolts still flew in all directions across the forest, from trees and bushes and from behind walls of smoke and fire. Occasionally, the Inquisitor simply lifted up her lightsaber to deflect an incoming bolt, other times she needed simply strafe slightly to the side.

A mighty roar from above, and a Wookiee soldier dropped down from a tree in an attempt to ambush the Inquisitor. The foolish walking carpet would simply be met with shock, as he was suddenly held tightly and suspended in mid-air. Brighid had lifted her hand and used the Force to pin down the Wookiee. The Special Inquisitor simply continued her steady march forward, slicing up the hairball as she passed, letting it drop dead.

By the time the Inquisitor and Brighid reached the ancient pool, the position was firmly controlled by imperial forces. Sniper laid low on the edges of the dried-out basin, providing support for other troopers as they rushed to the end of the forest and towards the temple, but rebel forces were fighting back tooth and nail. The tall turret towers were especially nasty. Positioned high above the forest floor, and more armored than one would think, shaking off blasts from below and peltering the battlefield with shots making everything that much harder for the imperials.

She began a slight run, trying to get close to one tower, but the turret operator saw her and instantly began firing away. These were powerful blasts, not so easily deflected by one lightsaber. The Inquisitor and Brighid had no choice but to take cover behind a tree with a thick trunk.

“I’ll get his attention,” Brighid spoke up as she reached for the lightsaber the Inquisitor was holding onto. Now armed with both sabers, she was certainly a formidable opponent.

“And I’ll make sure he goes down,” the Special Inquisitor responded.

Brighid then rushed forward from the cover of the tree, and was met with turret fire. Brighid’s strong connection to the Force and her heightened reflexes made her more than capable of dodging most and deflecting away some of the blasts, but that was not the main part of the plan.

A stormtrooper was running the length of the field, perhaps hoping he could dodge any stray shots and get through. In that moment, the Special Inquisitor stepped forth and lifted the trooper up using the Force. The stormtrooper was of course extremely confused for a moment, at how his legs no longer touched the ground. As he turned his head and made brief eye contact with the Inquisitor, she simply turned her head towards the turret, and used the Force to fling the trooper straight at it.

Crying out as he’s sent flying through the air, the stormtrooper lands right onto the edge of the open basket at the top of the turret, much to the surprise of the rebel soldier operating it. The trooper wastes no time in raising his blaster and frying the face of the rebel scum, before climbing into the basket himself. Knowing what he must do, the trooper takes control of the heavy blaster mounted on the turret, and aims it at the other towers within range.

With no turrets to provide cover fire, the rebel line fell to pieces. Their own hovertanks had been destroyed, and the imperials were pushing through with their own troopers and tanks.

As the Inquisitor ran out into the open glade, Brighid followed suit and leapt forth to deflect any would-be blaster bolts headed their way, but the rebels were on the retreat. Beaten, broken, defeated, countless rebels were retreating into the hangar area of the Great Temple and closed the blast doors. Even as the advancing imperials mowed down rebel stragglers, they still fought with all they had, their backs to the wall and stormtroopers raining fire upon them. The Inquisitor heard large trees break and fall, and looked to her side to see several AT-ST walkers emerge from the forest line. The rebels had truly been broken, but their fortress was yet to be breached.

Not waiting for the moment to just happen, the Inquisitor took the initiative. Taking hold of one lightsaber from Brighid and rushing forth to the closed blast door.

“You!” Brighid shouted as she pointed to a squad of stormtroopers. “With me!” After calling the attention of the troopers, Brighid sprinted after the Inquisitor, with the troopers following suit as ordered.

As the Special Inquisitor reached the wall of the blast doors, surrounded by the corpses of rebels who hadn’t made it inside in time, she plunged her lightsaber deep into the huge metal door. Brighid caught up and plunged in her own blade as well, halving the amount of work that had to be done. Together, they carved a large hole as their lightsaber cut through the reinforced metal. An age-old technique, but nonetheless effective.

As the Inquisitor and Brighid completes one full round of cutting, the Inquisitor steps back to stand straight before the now loose hunk of metal.

“Ready yourselves,” she orders to the troopers, before raising her hand and pushing hard with the Force, sending the carved piece flying into the hangar and allowing the stormtroopers to jump through.

Although the rebels inside had steeled themselves for an attack, they were nonetheless mowed down as the stormtroopers rushed in. The Special Inquisitor and Brighid entered the hangar through the hole and easily deflected any bolts coming towards both them and their troopers. One stormtrooper ran to the side and reached the hangar door control panel, opening up the door for more imperial reinforcements.

The Inquisitor marched with confidence through the hangar and deeper into the temple, still well aware of the smaller skirmishes that emerged as imperial troopers found and engaged the remaining rebels wherever they hid. Let the troopers have their fun. The battle was effectively over anyway. At one point, the ancient Massassi Temple may have housed thousands, tens of thousands maybe. There was only a couple hundred or so now, counting all the rebels who had died on the battlefield. And it would be empty by the time the Inquisitor was done with the place.

…

[War briefing room, Massassi Temple]

A quant room for a strategic lecture before an attack. The Special Inquisitor could not deny the rebels were efficient in their use of space and resources. Of course, it made sense for them to be utilitarian, they did not have the nigh endless resources like the Empire. Expert management of military assets and utilizing every nook and cranny to whatever it could be used for. Versatile, adaptable. The Inquisitor honestly thought the Empire could learn a thing or two from how the rebels organized their resources. But the thing they wanted to learn now was information. A lot of it. And the Inquisitor was keen on obtaining a very specific piece of information.

Some stormtroopers enter the room, dragging with them a rebel prisoner. A commanding officer of some kind, someone who knew something. He was beaten and bloody, but still very much awake and ripe for questioning. The troopers threw him on the floor and the Special Inquisitor bowed down over him. His breath was ragged, and angry. So much anger and hatred flowed from the man, the Inquisitor couldn’t help but revel in it. But now it was time to work. She placed one hand firmly on top of the man’s head, and janked it up to look her in the eyes. She felt some of that anger and hate turn to fear as he was forced to meet her gaze.

“The pilot who destroyed the Death Star,” she began. “Where is he?”

The commander looked at her for a few moments, spitting out a clot of blood at her feet before answering. “Not here,” he simply said. “He got away.”

A slight smile and whiff of air out her nose, as if the Special Inquisitor didn’t already anticipate such an answer. She let go of the man’s head, he could hold himself up, and straightened her back before continuing her interrogation.

“Where to?” A simple enough question, yet she was well aware what type of answer the man was going to give.

“As if I’d tell you.” He was rude, trying to put himself in a position of some kind of power, even now as he was beaten and on the floor.

The Special Inquisitor brough up her foot and delivered a hard kick across the captured commander’s face, hitting him square in the jaw and knocking out a tooth or two. Whereas only dry blood had been on his face up until now, fresh and wet blood began streaming down his nose and mouth as he was sent hard on the floor. But a steel-hard kick across the face was only the first part. The Inquisitor knelt down and held her hand out close to his face.

“You will tell me where the rebel who destroyed the Death Star has gone,” she commanded with the Force.

As the rebel gathered about his wits, fumbling as he picked his face up from the floor, coughing up blood in the process, he kept muttering nonsensical words. The Inquisitor gave him a brief moment to pick himself up again, gave him time to answer.

“I…” he began, speaking with some difficulty as his cheek began to swell where he had been kicked. “I… will tell… you where… he went…” Ragged breathing and thick voice, but so long as he could still speak that was enough. “He… he went to… another base installation. In the Outer Rim.” That was nowhere near detailed or specific enough. The Special Inquisitor furrowed her brow in annoyance. Brighid stepped forth next to the Inquisitor and raised her own hand towards the rebel commander’s face.

“You will tell us where he went.” There was a silent frustration in Brighid’s voice, a cold and stern tone that could bring most to answer even without the Force.

“Re-… Rex,” the commander began. So that was the pilot’s name. Rex. “Rex may have gone to Tatooine, his homeworld. He was given free reign after my last order to him.”

Tatooine. That desert backwater. Visiting friends and family perhaps? What was the deal with that planet and all these Force-sensitives? The Inquisitor rose up, pondering her next move for a few moments. A hunter needed to be prepared. But she was not a lone hunter. There was someone she needed to report to. No doubt Darth Jin had felt the same ripples in the Force in the trenches of the Death Star.

The Inquisitor turned heel and began walking out of the room, closely followed by Brighid. “We have no further use for him,” she told the stormtroopers. “Take him to the antechamber up top with the rest.”

…

[Imperial landing zone, Yavin 4]

Once more the shuttles and landing crafts were going back and forth between the star destroyers hovering above the forest. Only this time they were being filled up with stormtroopers ready to leave, the same troopers that had rushed out of the crafts into combat just a few hours before. It was time to leave this wretched moon. The Special Inquisitor personally saw to that all the landing crafts were filled up before they took off. She did not know how many round back and forth had been taken to deploy troopers when the battle was raging, but no doubt fewer rounds were necessary for the return trip.

An officer came up to the Inquisitor to deliver a status report.

“We’ve gathered all we can, but the rebels left behind a lot of fried hard drives. There isn’t anything left of value to gather from their computers.”

“And of the prisoners?”

“Anyone deemed valuable have been transported. The rest are all crowded together in the top chamber of the temple, as you requested.”

“Good.” The Inquisitor turned to gaze at the Great Temple, rising high above the forest canopy in the distance. Thousands of years old, it’s stones cut with precision. The ancient Sith had built it, way back when the Sith were a separate species in their own right. The Massassi slaves had toiled through who knows how many seasons of labor to construct the temples in honor of their godlike lord, and now the Rebel Alliance had taken it for themselves. The Special Inquisitor could not change the ripples that had already began to define history, the Battle of Yavin would be remembered by the entire galaxy for years to come. But she would not allow this damned hunk of stone to become a site of symbolic pilgrimage for anyone harboring rebel sympathies. The rebels had made an example of the Death Star, so she would make an example of the Massassi Temple.

Taking out a commlink and raising it to speak into, the Special Inquisitor contacted the star destroyer hovering above, the Decapitator. It was time for it to live up to its name.

“Admiral,” she spoke into the commlink. “Ready your cannons.” A few moments of calibrating and warming up, and the destroyer took aim. “Rain hellfire.”

A torrent of green beat down upon the top of the Massassi Temple, tearing down rock and stone, crumbling towers and scorching walls. All the rebel prisoners inside were obliterated as turbolasers wrecked the crown of the temple, bringing the structure tumbling down. Even as the top collapsed, the firing continued, tearing away at whatever was hit. The temple was ancient but sturdy, and tearing the whole thing down would take too long. Eventually, the Inquisitor spoke into the commlink again, having deemed that enough damage was delivered.

“Hold your fire, that’s enough.” As ordered, the Decapitator ceased firing. Even through the thick smoke, it was clear how much damage had been done. The top portion of the temple was completely annihilated. The walls showed clear signs of having partially melted away, like candle wax. The Inquisitor considered that enough damage to state her message.

With the temple ripped open and the prisoners disposed of, the Special Inquisitor stepped onto the boarding ramp of a landing craft alongside the last batch of troopers. As the ship ascended from the ground, one nagging thought kept biting away in the Inquisitor’s mind. The ripples in the Force she had felt from that pilot, Rex. Why was something about them so… familiar? It was like she had felt a presence like that before, many years ago, before the Empire. Had Darth Jin also sensed this familiarity? And would the Sith Lord send her to capture the pilot, or kill him? It had been quite a while since she had been sent on a mission like that. Perhaps it was time to polish up her skills.

…

Chapter Text

[Kuat Drive Yards, Kuat]

It was almost finished. The new symbol of fear that the Empire would use to subjugate the galaxy. A marvel of engineering. A flagship fit for the Dark Lord Jin.

With the Death Star destroyed, resources had been pooled into finishing construction of the Executor, the brand-new super star destroyer, the first of its kind. The new focus and attention at the massive ship, paired with Darth Jin personally overseeing its construction after the Emperor demoted him from the front lines, had effectively quadrupled the efforts of the workers and leadership management. Soon, the ship would be ready.

Darth Jin was prone to spending much time staring out the window and at the ship as it was being built. Most probably thought the Sith lord did it because he liked it, and maybe there was some truth to that. But in reality he was deep in thoughts, thoughts that fueled his anger and hatred of the rebels. And how he found himself obsessing over that one pilot.

“Lord Jin, the Silent has returned from Yavin,” an officer reported, drawing Jin out of his own mind.

“Have the Special Inquisitor sent here,” Jin responded, his sight never taken away from the window. The officer nodded then left the room.

A few minutes later, the door opened again. The Special Inquisitor and her Force spirit entered the room, and awaited Darth Jin’s interrogation.

“I assume the mission was a success,” Darth Jin said as he turned around to face the dark Force-wielder.

“Indeed,” the Inquisitor confirmed. “We captured the moon at minimal casualties, exterminating whatever troops the rebels had stationed there, and destroyed most of their fleet present. Although this was likely but a small part, the loss of a capital ship is still a grave wound to the rebels. We managed to extract some data of value from their computers, but not much of use was left behind. And…” A brief breath in and hesitation from the Inquisitor was all the Dark Lord needed to know something was out of the ordinary.

“And what?” the Sith Lord ordered. His voice was stern and commanding, but he knew the Inquisitor already had a deep-rooted fear of him. She would have no secrets from him.

A small gulp before she continued. “And about the pilot who destroyed the Death Star. There is reason to suspect he is Force sensitive, is there not? From the intel I gathered, I have reason to believe he may be on Tatooine, at least for now.”

Tatooine. It had to be Tatooine. That pilot, that boy. Had he been Dunban’s secret apprentice? Is that what that old man had spent these last decades doing? And hiding on Tatooine!

So that was where he was going to send that bounty hunter.

Not answering the Special Inquisitor, Darth Jin simply walked over to a computer terminal and opened up a hologram call. The face that met the Dark Lord was one concealed behind a helmet with a distinct T-shaped visor across. The identity of this person was unmistakable.

Mikhail Fett, the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy.

“Finally got the rest of the order?” he said, no time for formalities or any of the like. The Special Inquisitor considered his words for a moment, as well. Clearly, Darth Jin had already been in contact with the bounty hunter, anticipating a location to send him to, and simply waiting for the information to be delivered.

“Yes,” Jin responded. “Go to Tatooine. The one you’re looking for should be known to frequent with a Dunban Kenobi, and the vessel the Millennium Falcon.”

“Tatooine? That desert backwater? And the Falcon…” the bounty hunter went through his thoughts for a few moments. “Understood.”

“And I want him alive,” Darth Jin reaffirmed in a stern tone.

“Understood,” Mikhail Fett repeated.

The hologram closed down, and the Sith Lord turned to the Inquisitor.

“Follow the bounty hunter. But keep your distance. If the pilot escapes Tatooine, have the ship tracked. If he turns out to be Force sensitive, have his abilities put to the test.” Darth Jin wanted to know. More than anything else he wanted to know. Just who was this pilot? What had Dunban wanted with him? And was he worthy of the Dark Lord’s attention?

“It will be done my lord,” the Inquisitor said as she curtly nodded, then marched out of the room.

…

[Hyperspace]

Rex sat in silence as the X-wing flew through hyperspace, it’s route safely guided by R2-D5’s precise calculations. Flying through the endlessly stretched out blue and white, on its way to Tatooine. Rex had often spent long hours thinking of how he would explore the galaxy one day, and never return to that desert planet. Everything he knew and loved had been taken from him, so it wasn’t like he left much behind when he finally joined the rebellion. Still, Rex couldn’t help but occasionally think of his homeworld. And now he was returning to it. After the destruction of the Death Star, the Empire’s siege of Yavin 4 had lasted for many weeks, and now he finally had the leisure time to return to Tatooine. But it wouldn’t be a vacation, rebels couldn’t afford that luxury.

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself for this, Rex,” Pyra’s voice spoke up from inside Rex’s head. He had gotten fairly accustomed to the mental co-pilot by now, although R2 apparently still found it weird. Made sense, from the astromech’s perspective, Rex was just talking to himself.

“I know I shouldn’t,” Rex answered. “But this is important. I’m no real use to the rebellion if I’m only a wannabe Jedi. And that’s all I’ll ever be if I don’t learn how to train in the ways of the Force.”

“I wish I could be of more help with that, I really do.” Pyra was clearly sad in her tone. “Sorry if I’m just in the way.”

“Pyra, no,” Rex vehemently responded. “Don’t ever think of yourself as a waste of space. I’m glad you’re with me, I genuinely am.”

“Really?”

“Of course! Having someone to learn all the ropes together with makes it all the more fun and exciting. And besides…” Rex moved to lay a hand on the lightsaber hilt he still carried. His father’s lightsaber. “We have a special connection, don’t we? Let’s not let that go to waste.”

“You’re so kind, Rex.”

“Heh, well I try. We’ll be together, every step of the way. I promise you.”

If there was a tone for rolling your eyes, then that was the sound R2 was beeping from the back of the X-wing.

Rex was as determined as ever. Maybe there would be something in old Ben’s house, something that could help him along the path of the Jedi. Guide him in the right direction. If so, then Rex could hopefully return to the Rebel Alliance with the knowledge that he’d be truly useful to them.

…

[Mos Eisley, Tatooine]

Imperial intel said the Millennium Falcon had been seen around here not long before the Death Star blew up. But it wasn’t like he needed that. That freighter had gotten its fair share of infamy in the criminal underworld as of late. Especially in Bana’s spheres of influence. Nia Solo had a massive bounty on her head, and if Mikhail Fett could cash that in alongside this job for the Empire, that would only be good business for him. Find Solo, and maybe he’ll find that pilot boy Darth Jin was after as well. And where else to look for Solo than her favorite bar of scum and villainy, namely Chalmun’s Cantina.

Mikhail Fett slowly and calmly entered the establishment, and as he went through the entry hall and stood at the opening to the main part of the cantina, the festivities seemed to die down. Patrons stopped talking and drinking, the music ceased, and all eyes were fixed on the bounty hunter. Some with fear, some with awe, some with confusion, some with annoyance, some with arrogance.

“Good evening,” Mikhail Fett announced the crowds, not really caring that it was still mid-afternoon. “There is a certain someone I am looking for, and I would be most appreciative if I wouldn’t have to beat any more useless information out of people. Intel that I can actually use would be a nice change of pace.”

It didn’t look like anyone was keen to take the word. Several individuals mumbled amongst each other, giving glances in this direction and the other. Wondering if someone in the cantina was the target, or they themselves.

“I’m looking for a certain boy,” Mikhail Fett continued. “Known to have frequented here alongside a Dunban Kenobi, and Nia Solo.”

Mentioning Solo got more attentive gazes. But still nobody spoke up. Feeling frustrated, Mikhail began prancing around the place, walking between tables and patrons, wanting to get some damn information already.

“C’mon, it’s not that hard. A boy, meeting with Solo. Just before the Battle of Yavin happened.” Mikhail gazed across the room, his black visor staring down several people. He was growing tired of this game.

“If you’re looking for a boy, why don’t you check a mirror?”

“Who said that?” Mikhail said as he turned his head to where the voice had come from. His tone was calm and collected, but with an underlying anger to it.

“I did. And I’ll repeat myself if need be.” A large, hairy, six-armed alien stood up and began approaching Mikhail Fett. He was twice the size of the bounty hunter, and clearly his ego was many times bigger than that. “The only boy I see here is you, Fett. You’re a lot of talk, but I’ll rip that fancy helmet off you and smear that pretty little boy face of yours all over the street. Then we’ll see how eager you’ll be at interrupting a good drink.”

Really? This alien guy was really doing this? Oh well, guess someone has to be beaten for proper intel to be made available.

“Well, you got one thing right,” Mikhail responded. “I am pretty.”

Then, swiftly and without giving time to react, Mikhail lunged at the alien and slammed him hard down upon a table. Breaking under the immense impact, the table was reduced to rubble. One quick and solid punch, a hard elbow jab, a grab and a full force blow with his knee alongside bashing his helmet against the alien’s head left the creature with three broken arms and a severe concussion. Grabbing a vibroblade from a holster and slashing fast and precisely, Mikhail literally disarmed the alien as he sliced off one of the arms that hadn’t been broken yet. In a matter of moments the battle was over, with Mikhail Fett the decisive and absolute victor. No, a battle would imply the odds were even. It was a massacre of limbs, that’s what it was. And now the cantina was more tense than ever at the bounty hunter’s presence. The alien was knocked out cold, but he’d live. If he stayed down.

“I’ll ask again,” Mikhail Fett announced as he stood above the beaten alien. “Who knows the boy’s name?” His tone was one demanding answers, he was done playing nice. A brief glance around the place, before Mikhail began staring down the bartender, who only recoiled in fear.

“I-I don’t know! Promise!” he said as Mikhail slowly marched up to the bar. “Nobody knows him! It was just that one time with Kenobi he was here!”

Not a satisfactory answer. But it seemed others had a more… interesting reaction to Mikhail’s questions.

Turning quickly and raising his arm to fire a fiber cord wire, entangling a boy who seemed awfully eager to leave the cantina. Falling flat on his face, Mikhail walked up to the boy and grabbed hold of him, bringing the boy’s terrified face close to his own helmed visor.

“Going somewhere?” Mikhail rhetorically asked.

“T-the one you’re looking for!” the boy frantically said. “R-Rex Skywalker! That’s his name! That’s who you’re looking for, ain’t it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Who is this Rex Skywalker?” Finally, a name. From a frightened little coward who seemed to be damn near wetting himself.

“H-he lives out in the Dune Sea with his aunt and uncle! Or- or at least he did. Not anymore. Moisture farmer he was, and a bushpilot. Used to hang out at Tosche Station with Biggs. We- we called him Wormie. That’s all I know I swear. P-please don’t hurt me.”

The boy was practically crying at this point. Rex “Wormie” Skywalker. So that was who Darth Jin was after. And he lived out in the Dune Sea? Visiting friends and family it seemed.

“I got what I wanted. Thank you,” Mikhail Fett said, then the very next moment bringing up his blaster and shooting the boy dead in the face. After untangling the wire, he turned to toss a coin to the bartender. “Sorry about the mess.”

…

[Jundland Wastes]

Three figures wanders through the rocky desert. The suns are setting, and the blistering heat turns to a cool evening as night approaches. Rex was leading the way, followed by Pyra and R2-D5. The canyon and highlands didn’t have many good landing zones for an X-wing fighter, so the trio had to trek quite a distance from where they landed to where they were going.

“It shouldn’t be long now,” Rex said. “Old Ben’s house is just around this hill.” Seeking out the old house of the man who had been his Jedi master, even if only briefly. Hopefully there would be something there, something left behind, that would help Rex on the path to becoming a true and proper Jedi. Something, anything.

As the astromech rolled over uneven terrain, R2 couldn’t help but beep with discomfort. Pyra seemed to echo some of the sentiment.

“It’s strange to think about,” she began pondering. “Why would master Dunban choose to live out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Beats me,” Rex responded. “Can’t even think of how many times I dreamed of leaving this dry rock. And Dunban chose to live here.” Rex stopped for a moment, and took in his hands the lightsaber hilt of his father. Holding it in his open palms, Rex kept staring intently at it as his mind wandered. “Old Ben, Jedi master Dunban Kenobi. He didn’t take the fight to the Empire. I guess he had his reasons. Just like I have my reasons to take up the fight.”

Rex started walking again, his golden eyes determined as his thoughts gathered. Perhaps old Ben didn’t want to confront Darth Jin? That must’ve been a monumental wave of emotions best avoided. Dunban had seen his old best friend, Rex’s father, murdered by Jin, his old pupil. But Rex would not hide. He would learn the ways of the Force, of the Jedi. And he would use it to help save the galaxy from the tyranny of the Empire. He at least had to try.

Coming up the hill, Rex finally caught glimpse of old Ben’s hut. A shabby little home it was, with a single moisture vaporator. It wasn’t much, but it was a home. Had been Ben’s home for years.

As Rex approaches, he sees how the door is wide open. Entering the house, Rex is only met with a mess. The only way to describe it, everything was simply a chaotic mess.

“Seems like the sand people got here first,” Rex commented. “They’ve practically torn the place apart.”

“Let’s dig around a bit,” Pyra suggested. “Maybe we’ll find something the sand people didn’t deem useful, but could probably be helpful to us.”

“Good idea. R2, take a scan of the area. We’ll look around and you let us know if you find something.”

R2 gave affirmative beeps.

Thinking there was no one better spot to begin than anywhere else, Rex began shifting junk and scrap around, looking around underneath. The noise of stuff being pushed and moved as Rex and Pyra looked around filled the room.

One particular box piqued Rex’s interest. It was a bit out of the way and under some scrap parts, but seemed otherwise untouched. Moving the junk away, Rex reached out and picked up the small box. His interest further increased when he saw the note attached to the box.

“For Rex” the note said. Was there something in here Dunban wanted Rex to have? There must be.

“I think I found somethi-” Rex’s sentence was rudely interrupted by a sudden exploding light. “AAGH!” Rex could only scream as his eyes were blinded and a deafening ringing tone filled his ears. “Pyra! R2!” Rex frantically shouts as he tries to rub out the irritation from his eyes and feel around for something, anything.

Suddenly, Rex hears Pyra wail out as if she’s been hit hard. In the very next moment something hard hits Rex’s own face.

“I’m being nice with the butt end of the rifle,” a voice said. “But the blasty end is pointed at your face, kid. Now don’t move.”

“Wha- who.. who are you?” Rex says as he tries to collect himself. When facing down an enemy, whoever it may be, Rex had to be focused and prepared.

“The name’s Mikhail Fett. And you’re coming with me, Skywalker. Now don’t make a fuss, and your little friends here might leave safely.” Mikhail Fett kept his rifle pointed at Rex’s face, and his boot firmly planted on Pyra, keeping her head down and confused.

The flash bang grenade had also knocked down and partially disabled R2, but the astromech was still aware of its surroundings. Moving its head to look at the assailant, R2 took in all the details it could.

The armor was certainly of a more unique kind. Personalized down to the very touch. An undercoat bodysuit, with metal plating covering most of the upper body. The armor was painted a distinct, deep dark red color. Certain parts around the shoulders and elbows was a faded but still notably black color. The gauntlets and utility seemed to be packed with all sorts of different weapons and gadgets. The jetpack and round helmet with a t-shaped visor gave away just what type of person this was. Rex had been attacked by a Mandalorian. And R2-D5 was helpless to aid.

“I find it hard to believe in you,” Rex commented as he tried to crawl backwards away from Mikhail.

“I don’t care,” Mikhail Fett bluntly responded. Not wanting his target to crawl away, Mikhail stepped off Pyra’s head and moved towards Rex, pulling out a pair of cuffs to subdue the boy.

Pyra immediately took the opportunity. Grabbing hold of an old metal rod, Pyra tried swinging it towards Fett, but only hit the bounty hunter’s boot as he kicked it away.

“Careful now, girl,” Mikhail said as he moved to point his blaster at Pyra. “Don’t wanna ruin that pretty face of yours.” Pyra only grunted back at him.

“Who hired you?” Rex asked as he finally got up in a standing position. “If you wanted me dead, you’d have killed me already. Someone hired you to bring me in, didn’t they?”

“Oh, just shut up already.” Mikhail Fett was clearly not in the mood for talks. The bounty hunter brought up the butt end of his rifle again and smacked Rex right across the jaw. “I can beat you senseless if it comes to it. My orders were to bring you in alive, not conscious.”

Even though his jaw ached horribly, Rex didn’t let himself get thrown off balance that easily this time. Standing up, albeit hunched over, Rex ignited his lightsaber and held it firm. The room was filled with the blue light of the Jedi weapon. Even though he was completely blinded, Rex was not afraid. If anything, holding the lightsaber high and firm made him more determined that before. Through the Force, Rex could feel the same emotions coming from Pyra, who had also gotten back on her feet.

“Cool glowstick, kid,” Mikhail smugly taunted. “But you can’t fight me. Even if you had your eyes, you wouldn’t be able to beat me.”

“A Jedi needn’t rely on his eyes,” Rex confidently responded.

“I’ve seen Jedi,” Mikhail flatly retorted. “Just swinging a laser sword around doesn’t make you a Jedi.”

The bounty hunter could say whatever he wanted, it would not deter or dissuade Rex. Although his vision was blinded, Rex swung his blade towards Mikhail Fett. The attack was dodged as Mikhail swiftly stepped back, raising his arm to fire a grappling hook and wire cord to tangle Rex with. Rex saw, or rather felt and anticipated, the attack, and cut the wire with his lightsaber as it fired. As Rex approaches, lightsaber held high and in swing, Mikhail frantically backsteps to avoid getting an injury too nasty for his liking. With a moment’s opening, Pyra grabs hold of the cloth around Mikhail’s neck and drags him towards her, using the fallen over R2 as an obstacle, forcing the bounty hunter off-balance.

“It’s not that hard to know where you are,” Rex said, perhaps a sliver of gloating mixed into his tone. “You make a lot of noise.”

“You make me become pissed off,” Mikhail angrily retorted. Lying on the floor with the duo of Rex and Pyra above him, the bounty hunter thrusted his arm up and unleashed the flamethrower from his gauntlet. Rex and Pyra were quick to avoid, but Mikhail only wanted some space to get up, and he quickly regained his footing.

However Rex was fast to pounce upon Mikhail Fett again, bringing his lightsaber in a downward curve. As the blade hit Mikhail’s helmet, it only bounced off, staggering the bounty hunter but his head remained firmly attached.

“You can’t cut through beskar with that,” Mikhail said. “But I can slice through your unprotected face quite easily.” In that moment, a pair of razor-sharp blades came out of the side of Mikhail’s gauntlet, and he rushed forward to meet Rex head-on.

As he lunged, Mikhail purposely made sure to knock around pieces of junk from around the room. If the boy could find him through sound, then a loud cacophony oughta disorient him just long enough.

“Rex, to your left!” Pyra shouted from across the room. Rightly so, Rex raised his lightsaber to meet the attacker as Mikhail came down upon him for his left side. Lightsaber met Mikhail’s beskar gauntlets, and the bounty hunter pushed forward to make Rex stumble backwards. In the moment of imbalance, Mikhail Fett brought his razor blades up fast and sliced Rex across the cheek, leaving a nasty scar and a trail of blood. What followed was Mikhail delivering a swift and solid punch towards Rex’s right shoulder, sending him trailing backwards. The blow didn’t incapacitate Rex or his sword arm, but it still hurt like hell.

“Rex!” Pyra shouted as she tried to rush to his aid, only to be met by the bounty hunter lifting his blaster and pointing it at her face.

“Pipe it down, lady,” Mikhail commanded. “Are you gonna come quietly already, kid? Or do we have to make even more of a scene here.” The frustration in Mikhail’s tone was clear as day.

 A moan of pain escaped from Rex as he got back to his feet, holding his lightsaber as firmly as he could. “Dunban never would’ve surrendered to you,” Rex said between ragged breaths. “And I won’t either.”

“Kenobi is dead, kid,” Mikhail taunted back. “He can’t help you.” The bounty hunter then moved to point his blaster at Rex, deciding the right shot would knock him down.

“He already has,” Rex confidently retorted.

Annoyed, Mikhail Fett pulled the trigger and fired a blast at Rex.

In that very moment, it was as if everything stood still. Rex was still very much blinded, yet as he breathed out, the world became clear to him.

“Reach out with your feelings,” Pyra’s voice echoed in Rex’s mind. He could feel her own moment of tranquility. Rex’s mind was at peace. Any anger or fear he had held before just this day was gone. As the shape of the world filled the vision of his mind, Rex held his lightsaber high and firm, despite the aching of his injured shoulder.

The blaster bolt hit the lightsaber and was deflected away, straight back at Mikhail. His blaster was scorched by its own bolt and knocked out of his hand.

“Gah!” the bounty hunter shouted in surprise and anger. “You’re an annoying one, ain’tcha?” Not leaving his guard open, Mikhail lunged forth at Rex, who in turn charged back with a swing of his lightsaber.

Mikhail Fett was quick to grab firm hold of Rex’s right arm, preventing him from bringing down the lightsaber. Rex in turn grabbed hold of Mikhail’s right arm, trying to prevent the bounty hunter from utilizing any of the razor blades in his gauntlet. A brief moment of struggle between the two followed, before Mikhail brings out his leg to trip Rex over. Although Rex loses his balance, his firm grasp onto Mikhail sends them both tumbling down on the ground in a wrestling match.

In the chaos of the scuffle, Rex loses grip of his lightsaber, not helped in any way by how hard the bounty hunter holds onto his wrist. As Rex is forced to let go of his saber, it in turn catches the attention of Mikhail Fett. At this point Rex isn’t even sure of where his lightsaber has landed but he knows Mikhail is trying to crawl over and grab hold of it. If the bounty hunter gets hold of the lightsaber, there’s practically nothing Rex can do anymore. He had to get his lightsaber back.

“That’s enough!” Pyra suddenly shouts. As the duo had wrestled on the ground, Pyra had lunged for the lightsaber. Picking it up, activating it again, and pointing the blue blade at Mikhail Fett.

The struggle on the floor stopped in an instant. Mikhail simply staring down Pyra behind his visored helmet, even as he held Rex pinned down.

“Be careful with swinging those glowsticks around, lady,” Mikhail bluntly said.

“Oh, just shut up!” Rex shouted as he brough his knee hard into Mikhail’s side. The hit managed to shake Mikhail just enough off of Rex for him to shake out of the bounty hunter’s hard grasp.

Acting upon Rex’s momentum, Pyra brough the lightsaber down hard towards Mikhail, hitting the helmet. The lightsaber bounced off the hard beskar, just like before, but Mikhail was knocked hard down onto the floor. Not wanting the bounty hunter to get up, Rex quickly got to his feet and started blindly feeling in the piles of junk for something, anything. Grabbing hold of a metal pipe, Rex swung it down hard on Mikhail Fett’s head. The bounty hunter was knocked unconscious, at least for the time being. Rex was beaten, bloody, and blinded, but he now had the opportunity to get away.

“Nice one Rex,” Pyra complimented as she shut off the lightsaber.

“Thanks, you too Pyra,” Rex responded as he let out an exhausted breath. In that moment, the both of them stretched their arms outwards towards each other, and locked hands as they found each other. Rex ended up blushing a little. Even though Pyra couldn’t see it, she could most certainly sense it.

By now, R2-D5 had managed to get itself back on its legs, and rolled over to where Rex and Pyra stood, letting out a few beeps of concern.

“Don’t worry, R2. I’m fine,” Rex reassured the droid, to which the droid responded with beeping akin to a sigh of relief. “Now, where did I drop that…” Rex searched around a little bit before he found the box again. The box that old Ben Kenobi had apparently left behind for Rex to find. “Okay, let’s get outta here.”

The trip back down the highlands and to the X-wing wasn’t nearly as fast as it could’ve been. Still partially blinded, both Rex and Pyra had to lean on R2 for support and guidance through the desert. It was a long and tiresome walk, but the trio eventually made it back to Rex’s fighter. By that time, the lasting effects of the flashbang was finally beginning to wear off, and Rex could vaguely make out the starry Tatooine night sky. First R2 was helped on board, then Rex seated himself in the cockpit. Pyra, once again, seated herself inside Rex’s mind. Still not trusting his eyesight, Rex let R2 fly the X-wing up through the atmosphere and into space. Once they were up there, it would be easier to calm his nerves down and let his eyesight return. Then Rex could finally investigate this mysterious box.

…

How long had it been? Half an hour, maybe more? Either way, the bounty got away, and Mikhail Fett was right pissed off about it. Despite all that, Mikhail knew there was nothing else he could do at the moment, so he simply got up and walked, leaving the old house behind without a second thought. As Mikhail eventually got back to his speeder parked in the desert, there was at least one thing he wanted to know before giving his disappointing report to Darth Jin.

“So how long did you intend to follow me?” Mikhail had had the feeling in the back of his neck all the way from Mos Eisely and up to the hills of the Jundland Wastes. A nuisance is what it had been, and he wanted answers.

“Only up until the boy got away from you,” a female voice answered, and Mikhail Fett turned to see who it was. The same woman who had stood behind Darth Jin when the Sith Lord had delivered the rest of the bounty.

“Or rather,” she continued. “Only until I could place a tracker on the boy’s fighter.”

“So, Jin doesn’t trust one bounty hunter to complete the job?” Mikhail asked in a frustrated tone. “He has to send his own little lap dogs as well?”

“What he wanted or anticipated is beyond me. But now our overlapping missions break path. You’ve done your job for Lord Jin, now I’ll do mine.”

Mikhail Fett stared at her for a few moments, before deciding it was better not to dwell on it all. “Fine, have fun.” Mikhail got onto his speeder and zoomed off back to Mos Eisely.

…

[Rex’s X-wing, space]

His vision finally clearing, Rex could finally take a proper look at the box he found at Dunban’s house. Taking the lid off the dusty old box, a bunch of books was revealed to be inside. “Kenobi’s Journal” the logo said, each book numbered to indicate their order.

“Old Ben’s journal? Is this what he wanted me to have?” Rex said, his previous wonderous excitement slowly turning to a puzzled sense of disbelief.

“Rex, at the bottom,” Pyra’s voice said. “There’s something else down there too.”

Reaching down, Rex saw it was a small data pad, most likely a digital notebook. Rex saw it was labeled “To be found if I die”. This was definitely something Dunban wanted Rex to see. Rex turned on the device, and the screen lit up with a small notebook. Rex began reading what had been written.

“If I die, and cannot teach the boy enough, then I hope he finds this data pad. Years ago, I hid something that a young learner like him should need. This secret lies hidden on Leftheria.” What followed was a bunch of specific coordinates, probably the exact location of whatever Dunban had hidden. The name Rex read resonated in his mind for a few moments.

“Leftheria…” he pondered aloud. He may have heard that name before. On a rebel briefing or something. “Hey R2, correct me if I’m wrong but… Isn’t Leftheria way out in the Alrest Cluster? In the mid rim?” R2-D5 responded with affirmative beeps to Rex’s query.

“Alright. Let’s go to Leftheria then.”

…

Chapter Text

[Leftheria system]

Rex’s X-wing left hyperspace and was met with the view of the planet where Dunban had hidden whatever it was he wanted Rex to find. Rex took in all the visuals, looking intently at the planet as his X-wing approached. Huge sections filled with white clouds, vast blue oceans, dotted with small or large islands. Not one landmass, at least from the side Rex saw, seemed to be a dominating continent. He couldn’t help but think how much of a stark contrast it was to his home on Tatooine. An endless desert with nothing but sand and rocks, a planet where water was so scarce that the moisture of the air itself had to be farmed. And then there was Leftheria, a planet which seemed mostly covered in water. The galaxy truly was a strange place filled with all kinds of different wonders.

“Alright R2, I’ll hook up the tablet to the computer,” Rex said. “See if you can use the coordinates written there to find the location on the planet.” R2 responded with affirmative beeps.

“What is it you think we’ll find?” Pyra’s voice said. “More memoirs?”

“No, there’s gotta be something different here.” Rex let the gears and cogs in his head turn a bit more, pondering on just what they might find. “Old Ben’s journals were of sentimental and personal value. But I think whatever’s here might be of more direct value to becoming a Jedi.” At least he hoped so.

The X-wing breached atmosphere and descended down upon the planet. R2 helped guide the ship in the right direction, but let Rex take the main control. With the right coordinates punched into the ship computer and built-in guidance helping Rex along the way, it was an easy straight-ahead road to fly.

As the X-wing approached land, Rex saw the coordinates seemed to point to somewhere on a small peninsula off a large island.

“Alright R2 let’s bring the ship down,” Rex said. “We gotta find a good spot to land. I’ll walk the rest.”

Complying with a few beeps, the X-wing was steered towards an open coastal cliff. Landing carefully, the vessel made contact with the surface, and Rex powered down the engines. He opened the cockpit, grabbed the old data pad, and got out.

As he stood next to his X-wing, Rex couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the planet. The ocean before him was vast, but calm. Where the sea met land and followed the coast, long sandy beaches and patches of lush forest and tall cliffs stretched along the waters edge. The air was warm, humid, and clean.

“The troubles of the galaxy seem so…” Rex began, pondering out loud. “They seem so distant. So non-existent here.”

“You’re right,” Pyra said, appearing behind Rex and walking to stand next to him. “This place is so peaceful, and full of life.” She took a deep breath, basking for the moment in the sun and gentle breeze. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Rex was truly mesmerized by just how serene this planet was. “But we better get moving. There’s no war here, but we have one to get back to. Let’s find whatever Dunban hid here.”

“Right,” Pyra nodded, putting up a determined face.

With R2 staying with the ship, the duo walked along the coast towards the coordinates marked on the data pad from Dunban’s house. Walking down the cliff and onto a sandy beach shore. They passed a high cliff face and passed under a natural stone arch, walking into a grassy path nudged between larger cliffs. The sight of a brick wall perplexed Rex for a moment. Moss-covered and ancient, but nonetheless artificial. Someone had built it, but there wasn’t really any signs of intelligent life on the planet. An ancient remnant perhaps? It did seem to be part of an ancient castle of some kind. A set of stairs rose up along the wall, and Rex ascended them, being met with an open, grassy field at the top. Ancient foundations of houses were visible amongst some patches of grass, but that was mostly it. Deciding not to let his thoughts linger on long-lost civilizations, Rex moved on. Rex and Pyra crossed the large field and natural rolling hills, and started descending downwards as they approached the far-end of the peninsula. The coastline was wide at the north tip, rugged cliff edges wading into the water and supporting grass on top. A few rocky outcroppings and larger boulders were strewn about the place. Rex took a glance at the data pad, and saw he was just next to the designated coordinates. He walked a bit further, to a large boulder standing sentinel by the shoreline. The stone was covered in moss and grass and the soil around it was firm. This was the place where Dunban Kenobi had buried whatever secret he wanted Rex to find.

“I suppose…” Rex began, glancing at Pyra and then the data pad. “We dig?”

“Well, if this is the place, then yeah.” Pyra knelt down and began feeling into the grassy soil with her hands. “It’s not so hard, we can dig this up.”

Rex nodded and knelt down next to her. Together, they began grabbing and shoving away grass and dirt and soil with their bare hands. The coordinates were very precise, so there was little doubt in where they should be looking.

The two shoved aside more dirt until Rex felt something hard in the soil. Not a rock, the edge he felt was too precise for that. Shoving aside some more dirt, the shape of a box became clear.

“Look at you!” Rex rhetorically said to the box as excitement filled him. “I think we’ve got something here.”

With help from Pyra, they eventually moved aside enough dirt and soil and grab onto the box. A few more tugs and pushes, and the box was pulled out from the dirt. Rex stood up as he held the box in his hands, studying it for a few moments. Plain and simple, yet sturdy enough to survive being buried for so long.

“What do you think could be inside?” Rex asked Pyra as she stood up next to him.

“Can’t imagine what it’d be,” she answered. “Why don’t we open it and find out?”

Rex nodded with a grin on his face. He took hold of the box lid with one hand, and opened it to see what was inside.

Three things lay inside the box. One was a small cube, bright blue with gold exterior lines. Rex didn’t know what to make of it, but it must’ve been something Dunban treasured or knew was of value to the Jedi. Another item was a small metal piece. It seemed random and out of place, but Rex felt something familiar about it. Then he realized how similar the piece seemed to a part of his own lightsaber, and old Ben’s lightsaber as well. It was the piece of a lightsaber hilt. The last and biggest item in the box was a book. Not an old journal this time, something else entirely. The front logo of the book said “The Basics of Lightsaber Forms”. Rex’s face practically lit up as he saw. A book on using a lightsaber. This would be groundbreaking for him, this could be the thing Rex needed to get properly started on training as a Jedi! Learning to use his lightsaber like a true Jedi would. Thank the stars for old Ben leaving this for Rex to find!

“Pyra, look at this!” Rex excitedly exclaimed as Pyra looked on. “I can learn from this book how to fight like a proper Jedi knight!”

“Great degree of foresight on master Dunban’s side,” Pyra said with a smile on her face.

The duo’s excitement was cut short, however. Rumbling from the water made Rex suddenly turn around, wondering what the commotion was all about. To his big surprise, a grassy little rock that Rex had taken for a small islet suddenly began moving. Slowly, the grassy rock floated up to the cliff coast, and something started rising out of the water. A long neck appeared, with the head at its end decorated with a long horn and purple sideburn-like fins. Large wings stretched out into the water from the main body, and the emerged creature shook its long neck, casting off water and taking in a deep breath of surface air. Letting out a deep, low grumbling noise, Rex wasn’t sure if it was a yawn or a type of howl. The creature moved its head around a bit, taking in the environment, before finally settling on Rex and Pyra, who could only stand paralyzed in shock and awe at the creature before them. Rex was only thrown off even more when the creature began to talk.

“I thought I heard something,” it said, its voice deep and raspy, but its tone had a degree of gentlemanly kindness in it, like a grandfather’s voice. “Was it either one of you? I could’ve sworn I heard Dunban’s name.”

The fear on Rex and Pyra’s faces only turned to confusion. Who was this and how did it recognize Dunban?

“Umm... yeah,” Pyra nervously said. “I said his name.”

“Oh, then you must be padawan friends of his,” the creature chuckled. The waters seemed to ripple as it spoke. “He was here just the other day, you see. With his own master.”

“What?” Rex said, sheer bewilderment painting his face. “Dunban Kenobi? Here with his own master? The same old guy who lived out in the Dune Sea for decades?”

“What?” Now the creature seemed equally confused. “No, why young Kenobi is no older than a common human teenager. His master introduced him to me before they returned back to the Republic.”

Rex and Pyra exchanged an awkward glance at each other before Rex decided to break the bad news.

“Look, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the Republic has been gone for ages. It’s the Empire now. And Dunban Kenobi is dead.” Rex’s words seemed to surprise the creature for a moment.

“Is he?” it turned its neck and looked away for a moment, gathering it’s thoughts before continuing. “Oh, yes, now I remember. Oh, if only I were 500 years younger, I wouldn’t get these things mixed up. Kenobi visited me alone. Said how the Republic had fallen, and that he needed a safe place to hide something. In fact, it was that thing you’re holding there he needed to hide.” The creature bowed its head and pointed at the box with it’s long horn. Rex looked down at the box for a moment before responding.

“So you know of this?” Rex asked. “I found the exact coordinates to this place on a data pad Dunban left behind for me to find.”

“Did he want you to protect it or something?” Pyra asked, slightly nervous that the beast would attack them if he didn’t believe them.

“Protect it? No,” the creature bluntly stated. “I just happen to enjoy being around Fonsett Island.” The creature turned its head to panoramically look across the green island behind Rex, taking in the views. “It is just a coincidence that I happen to be in this exact spot when you two came along.”

Then suddenly, the creature leaned its head forward to get a closer look on Rex and the box.

“Now, just what was it young Dunban wanted to hide so badly. A book on lightsaber forms, eh? You wish to learn the ways of the Jedi?”

“Yeah,” Rex nodded enthusiastically. “But, without anyone like old Ben to teach me, I don’t know where or how to begin. I want to learn to use the Force and become a Jedi knight, like my father was. If nothing else, at least this book might teach me how to fight like a Jedi.”

“You’ll learn nothing of how Jedi fight in that book,” the creature bluntly stated. Rex looked at it with slightly offended confusion on his face.

“What’re you talking about?” he said. “Jedi fight with their lightsabers.”

“Mmmm, only partially true.” Rex just became further confused, and wondered how this creature would elaborate on what it said. “The Jedi are not warriors. They are peacekeepers. They are vessels, a means to an end. Instruments meant to carry out the will of the Force. And the Force emanates from all living things, it surrounds us and binds the galaxy together. The Force draws its power and shape from the existence of life. And as life turns to death, so too does the living merge with the Force when their time has passed. And new life springs up from what the old one left behind. In truth, the ultimate will of the Force is the preservation of the eternal cycle of life and death. The Jedi do not fight with lightsabers, nor with blasters or any other weapon. A Jedi defends themselves and others from untimely destruction in order to uphold the balance created by the Force. And it is by guidance through the Force that a Jedi accomplishes this.”

The creature leaned in close to Rex and Pyra.

“If you wish to fight like a Jedi, then the key is not learning how to swing a sword. You must rid yourself of doubt, worrying, of fear and anger and hatred. Let the tranquility of the Force flow through you. Let the river of your own being merge with the river that is the Force. And when you are intertwined, let yourself float down to where the river guides. YOU,” it pointed directly at Rex with it’s horn. “Have the role of the vessel. And YOU,” now it pointed towards Pyra. “Have the role of the expanded conscience. That is how physical being and Force spirit connect and act upon the greater will of the Force.”

The entire speech had just baffled Rex. His whole concept of the Jedi and the Force was seemingly both expanded upon and turned into pure chaos. Rex glanced at Pyra, down at the box with the book in his hands, then back at the creature.

“How do you know all this?” Rex asked. “Who are you?”

The creature only chuckled. “I am often called Azurda. I’ve had many long moments to sit in peace, to ponder and meditate on the Force. To understand the universe in which we all live. And for well over 700 years, young and aspiring Jedi have been guided to me, seeking some form of council. I have oft provided my wisdom, and I like to think many who left me did so with changed perspectives. Even as visits grew fewer and far between, I did not mind. Gave me more time to think to myself.”

“If you know so much about the ways of the Force,” Pyra spoke up. “Then maybe you can teach us? Train Rex to become a proper Jedi knight?”

Azurda simply chuckled again. “Oh, by no means, no. I am not really suited to be a teacher. And besides, I have a feeling you have other places you need to be, rather than staying with old Azurda here on Leftheria for all the years it’ll take to undergo Jedi training.”

Rex only made a slightly disappointed expression. Not even this strange old guy would teach Rex the things he needed to know. But at least he had the book on lightsaber forms. It was a start.

“If you are that desperate for a teacher,” a voice suddenly said. “I know where you might find one.”

It was strange, the words might’ve brought relief to Rex, but the voice they came from did not relieve him in the slightest. Rex looked to where the voice came from, and saw two figures descending down the hill from the grassy plateau and down to the coastal flats he stood on. The leading figure was dressed in black, leather and metal and other fabric intertwined along their legs and continuing up the torso and up to the neck. A metallic belt around the waist, with fabric hanging like a low cape. They had one shoulder pauldron, metallic and emblazoned with the imperial sigil. A high collar surrounded the neck and head, and on the top of their head they wore a tall hat with an open metal visor hanging down, slightly obscuring the face. Following behind was another figure, dressed in a fairly similar way. The major difference was the pants seemed to be exchanged for a lower hanging dress-like apparel, still with leggings underneath. Long, black leathery gloves went up their entire arms up to just below the shoulders. This one was not wearing any metallic pauldrons, but the Empire’s sigil was still displayed along simpler shoulder pads. The head was also completely exposed, no collar or hat getting in the way. From the head fell a long and flowing set of hair in a stunning azure color, almost seeming ablaze. Curiously, the person had their eyes closed yet seemed to walk forward with no issue. Rex had no idea who these people were, but one thing was certain. They were with the Empire, and that was not good for Rex.

“Who are you?” Rex demanded in a shout, but making sure to keep his head calm. He carefully laid down the box after putting it’s lid back on, and then moved his hands to grab hold of his blaster.

“I bear the title of Special Inquisitor,” the leading figure said. Rex now heard from the voice it was a woman. “And you, my dear rebel, have attracted quite a bit of attention from the higher-ups in the Empire.”

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t,” Rex responded. “The rebellion as a whole gets quite a bit of attention from the Empire these days I’ve heard.”

“Don’t try to beat around the bush with your words,” the Inquisitor said back, seemingly annoyed yet keeping her calm and stern exterior. “Destroying the Death Star is one thing, but you’re Force-sensitive. And the Empire takes great interest in such individuals. Which is why I went through the effort of placing a tracker on your X-wing.”

Not feeling like getting kidnapped today, Rex grabbed hold of his blaster and raised it to fire, only for the gun to get dragged out of his hand in an instant. The Inquisitor’s own hand stood reached out and grasped onto the blaster as it reached her.

“Come now,” she said in a disappointed tone. “You must have something better to defend yourself with than this?”

Rex was momentarily baffled by what he had seen. This lady, this Special Inquisitor, also had Force powers. But now was not the time to question who did and didn’t have the Force, now was the time to act.

“Matter of fact,” Rex mumbled as he reached for his lightsaber. “I do.” Rex grabbed hold of the hilt and activated the lightsaber, the blue light beam shining brightly in the sunlight as he held the blade high.

“Good,” the Inquisitor said. “Then you may actually have a degree of competence to your name.” The Inquisitor tossed Rex’s blaster aside and took hold of a lightsaber hilt of her own. As she activated the blade, a long stream of red poured out as the weapon took form. Rex had seen this deep crimson color before, way back on the Death Star when he had seen Dunban and Darth Jin confronting each other. The Inquisitor held the lightsaber in her left hand and kept the other confidently folded behind her back. Rex didn’t feel like he was about to enter battle with an equal. He feared he was about to be toyed with like an absolute fool.

Rex tried keeping his head calm, but his thoughts were spinning a million miles a second. He was going to fight like a real Jedi now. Lightsaber against lightsaber. It was a dizzying feeling. Rex felt terrified by the presence of the Inquisitor. How she stood there in silent confidence, her face looking almost bored. Pyra was extremely nervous too, Rex could feel it. Perhaps some of his own feelings were flowing over onto her, but there was definitely a mutual anxiety between the two of them. Rex could feel Azurda watching him intently behind his back. The ancient dragon seemed eager to observe just how in tune with the Force Rex was. Rex took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the panicked beating of his heart was almost deafening. He’d just have to power through his fear and worries. Not waiting any longer, Rex lunged forward with both hands firmly gripping his lightsaber.

Swinging the blade in a downward angle as Rex rushed towards the Special Inquisitor. As the swords clashed, the Inquisitor stepped forth and held the hilt close to her own face. Both blades held firm against each other, but the Inquisitor easily overpowered Rex’s grip and guided both blades into being lowered towards the ground away from them both. The grass became singed by the touch of the lightsabers, and in the very next moment the Inquisitor brought up her free hand and hit Rex squarely in the face, making him stagger backwards.

“Rex!” Pyra shouted as she came rushing to his side, holding onto his shoulders to keep him steady.

“Thanks Pyra, I’m alright.” At least Rex thought he was alright. The Inquisitor could’ve easily killed him right then and there.

“Weak stance,” the Special Inquisitor said, almost as if crossing off a checklist.

Rex lunged forward again, swinging his sword in a wide sideways arch. The Inquisitor’s crimson lightsaber met the blade in defending pose as she stared down Rex. The blades were guided upwards and the Inquisitor suddenly pivoted backwards and to the side, making Rex fall forward as he lost balance. The Inquisitor held her blade high before bringing it back down in a hard attack. Rex narrowly dodged by letting his momentum carrying him, rolling forward to avoid the Inquisitor’s attack. The Special Inquisitor allowed no room for breathing however, as she rushed forth with her blade in a downwards diagonal arch, putting Rex on the defensive. Her sheer overpowering method nearly toppled Rex over as he tried to hold his ground, clinging onto his lightsaber for dear life with both hands. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor held her lightsaber confidently in one hand, pushing both the blades and her own body close to Rex. His face became drowned in deep blue light as the blade was mere inches from singing his hair. He could feel the Inquisitor’s shoulder leaning into the hilt of his lightsaber, as her own face became illuminated by red light, sparks flying from the purple glow where the two blades met.

The Special Inquisitor held an ice cold gaze towards Rex, who in turn could only give a mildly panicked and worried look back. Rex almost felt overwhelmed by the dominating presence in front of him, and on top of that it felt like emotional holes were being drilled into his backside. Rex managed to glance Pyra standing behind the Inquisitor, and remembered the other lady was probably standing behind him now. Was she the one doing this?

“Sloppy swordsmanship,” the Inquisitor commented again, before moving her arm inward as she stepped forward.

The movement brought the blade over her shoulder, and she began arching it in a swing towards Rex’s head. Rex had no choice but to loosen the grip on his lightsaber and bend down, dodging the lightsaber swing as he stumbled to the side. The Inquisitor continued moving forward and smoothly turned around 180 degrees, facing Rex again as she held out her lightsaber and pointed it towards him.

“Lacking discipline,” she said, continuing her taunting of Rex’s methods. “And no coordination,” she said again, this time glancing towards Pyra, who only returned a distraught look of confusion.

“Is this a battle or a test?” Rex shouted, trying to sound like he was simply annoyed, but in truth the confusion ran through him. What was the Inquisitor hoping to achieve messing with him like this?

“It is your chance to demonstrate if you’re even worth Darth Jin’s attention,” the Inquisitor bluntly responded. “But in truth you are horrendously disappointing.”

Rex couldn’t help but feel angered at the insults that was flung towards him. Angry at how this woman was so easily overpowering him, and equally fearful of it.

“You’re completely out of sync with your counterpart,” the Inquisitor commented as she began moving slowly to her right. Rex responded by moving to his own right, as the two began circling each other. The Inquisitor stopped as she came next to the other lady. “Brighid and I act like two extensions of one being. But you? You’re letting your uncontrolled feelings overwhelm that poor girl. In turn making her unable to support you.”

“Pyra, is that true?” Rex asked as he turned to look at her, a concerned expression on his face.

“I...” Pyra only answered, fumbling her words as she looked for a proper response. “I don’t know. I guess, maybe…” She didn’t really fully understand it herself, but the Inquisitor’s words felt like they were truthful.

“You rush into battle with your mind still a mess,” the Inquisitor stated. “Swinging your lightsaber around like some cumbersome club instead of the dignified weapon it is.” The Inquisitor glanced down at her lightsaber hilt as she held it close to her face, studying it intently. “A weapon of the mightiest warriors of the galaxy, thousands of years of heritage held within your hand. And you treat it no better than a fancy stick.” The look the Special Inquisitor gave Rex felt like pure venom, the most of any expression he had seen on her face for this whole ordeal.

“She’s right, you know.” Rex was stunned to hear Azurda suddenly say that, turning around to face the old creature.

“Don’t tell me gramps here is siding with the Inquisitor,” Rex thought to himself.

“You’re forgetting all that I told you,” Azurda said as he stared intently at Rex. Unlike the Inquisitor’s unsettling glare, there was a sense of hopeful expectation in Azurda’s eyes. Like he believed Rex could do better and desired to see it.

Rex felt a surge of motivation inside of him. He felt like he truly wanted to live up to Azurda’s expectations. That he had to prove himself worthy of the book Dunban had left him, of his connection to Pyra, and of the lightsaber he carried. Rex had to prove that he had what it took to become a Jedi knight one day.

Rex gripped in lightsaber firmly with both hands, moved his legs into a solid stance, took a deep breath and emptied his mind. His worries and fears and confusion faded away, and in its place was determination and willpower to succeed. But he did not let unnecessary confidence fill him. The Special Inquisitor was a professional, he was hardly even a learner. But still Rex gave a reassuring look to Pyra, who returned a confident smile back.

“Let’s do this, Pyra,” Rex said as he turned to face the Inquisitor.

“Very well then,” the Inquisitor said, a wicked grin appearing on her face. “Shall we dance?” She moved her right arm out from behind her back and pulled out a second hilt, igniting into a crimson red lightsaber. The Inquisitor gave her lightsabers a few twirls in her hands before taking a firm grip. “Have at you!”

In the blink of an eye, the Special Inquisitor rushed towards Rex and was upon him in an instant. Rex lifted his lightsaber to defend himself, and blocked a blow from the Inquisitor’s left side. She was swift to bring up a new strike with her right blade, hammering away at Rex’s defenses. She wasn’t aiming for strategic blows, rather just brute forcing her way through, turning the duel into a war of attrition and relentlessly beating away until Rex would crack under the pressure. But for a slit second, Rex saw an opportunity to counterattack. He had tried to keep his head calm when facing the rush attack, and it had partially worked. Rex didn’t hesitate a moment, he had this brief opportunity to strike when the Inquisitor was pulling back her right saber and bringing up the left to attack. Rex went for a sideways swing towards her left, to which the Inquisitor promptly responded by moving her left hand from attacking to defending as the lightsabers clashed. She brought her right hand up high to strike at Rex, to which he swiftly countered by grabbing onto her arm with his free left hand. Rex knew he could probably not physically overpower the Inquisitor, but anything to keep himself alive would be enough for the moment. Rex had partially expected a back-and-forth wrestling between the two, like he had done with Mikhail Fett back at old Ben’s house, but the Inquisitor had other plans. Mere moments after Rex caught her arm, she flicked her wrist and flung the lightsaber up and behind her.

As the lightsaber careened through the air, Brighid reached out with the Force and seized the crimson blade, stepping forth and bringing it down hard in an attack aimed at Rex’ left hand. Rex narrowly avoided by pulling himself backwards. So this is what the Inquisitor implied when she spoke of the perfect bond between her and Brighid. They were like two beings sharing one mindset. Rex started to understand more and more just how deep the bond between Jedi and Force spirit went. All this time he had been thinking of ways to escape from this battle. As he now stood almost at the edge of the shoreline, the calm sea at his back and the Special Inquisitor to his front, he understood how Pyra had come up with an escape plan. The Inquisitor and Brighid had both been focusing mainly on Rex and ignored Pyra. This had given her the opportunity to pick up the box left behind by Dunban, and plan their escape route. A plan she needn’t say a word about because Rex already understood it, through their connection. Pyra’s thoughts swam through Rex’s mind. The two of them were like rivers mixing together, and now was the time to act.

The Special Inquisitor stood at an angle from Rex, Brighid next to her, then Pyra behind her again. Azurda simply quietly watched on from the waters.

Without delaying any further, Rex made a run for it, giving a mad dash to pass the Inquisitor and run for the small hill the led down to their little dueling field. Naturally, the Inquisitor brought up her left blade to swing at Rex, but as he deflected with his own lightsaber he used the momentum of his speed to continue carrying him forward and made the lightsabers slide off each other. Rex continued his sprint as he rushed for the gently sloping hill. As the Inquisitor turned around, she reached out and Rex felt the earth beneath his legs get ripped up. The Special Inquisitor pulled out a lump of soil using the Force to trip Rex over, making him stumbled to the ground. Rex quickly turned himself around to lay back down. Before the Special Inquisitor could rush him down, Rex threw his lightsaber into the air towards Pyra, partly mimicking the same move the Inquisitor and Brighid had done.

Pyra reaches out and manage to catch the lightsaber hilt, relying more on Rex’s actual throwing angle than using the Force to pull the blade to her. She catches the hilt just as Brighid turns around to swing her crimson blade towards Pyra. The two Force spirits briefly interlock blades before sliding off each other. Pyra rushes forward, going for a stab with the lightsaber, only for Brighid to deflect the blade down towards the ground. Wasting no time, Pyra sidesteps and pivots around Brighid now that the lightsabers were held low. Raising up her blade, Brighid goes for a side swing but Pyra had already managed to run out of reach, rushing to regroup with Rex. By now, Rex had gotten back on his feet and stood next to Pyra as they faced towards the Inquisitor and Brighid, backs facing the gentle upwards slope. Rex and Pyra were both breathing raggedly, but they were standing, and might just be able to get away from here.

“You’re adaptable to your situation, I’ll give you that,” the Special Inquisitor complimented, mildly surprising Rex. “But you still lack enough hard practice and raw experience to compete with me. You’re untrained, but it needn’t be that way.” The Inquisitor began slowly stepping towards Rex, who in turn began moving backwards up the hill slope. “There can still be a place for you in the Empire. Lord Jin doesn’t give his attention to just anyone. You can learn from the best. You can accept this great opportunity, or you can continue being rebel scum.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Rex sarcastically responded. “But I prefer being with other rebel scum like me.” Rex and Pyra had now gotten to the top of the slope as the Special Inquisitor stood at the bottom. It wasn’t a massive height difference, but it was enough. Rex stood with his right hand open and at the ready, prepared to the lightsaber should Pyra throw it back to him. His left hand was carefully placed behind his back.

The Inquisitor only silently chuckled at Rex’s response. “You know, the Jedi were never really about individualism. It’d be better if I made that decision for you. You will come with me, and the high ground cannot save you from that.”

Not wasting more time with talk, the Inquisitor rushed the hill. In response, Rex and Pyra acted upon the final step of their escape plan. Rex pulled out the grappling device he had obtained back on the Death Star, still holding onto it as he pulled back. Pyra stepped to deflect the Inquisitor’s initial attack, swinging in an upwards angle to bring the lightsabers up high. Rex quickly crouched down and fired the grappling hook at the Special Inquisitor’s legs, tangling them in the wire. It seemed like it worked in catching her off-guard, as the sudden tangling of her legs and subsequent pull by Rex succeeded in toppling the Special Inquisitor. As she tripped over backwards and started falling down the hill slope, Rex ditched his grappling gun and made a run for it back to the X-wing, closely followed by Pyra carrying the lightsaber and Dunban’s box. As they ran, Rex’s mind came to remember something the Inquisitor had said just before their duel. She had a tracker on his X-wing, that’s how she had found him even on such a remote planet. He had to look for it and get rid of that before he returned to the Alliance.

As the Special Inquisitor lay on the ground, feet tangled, Brighid initially made the move to chase after the escaping duo. The Inquisitor cut her off, however.

“Let them go,” she said, to which Brighid halted in her movement then turned around.

“Gotten enough of a read on their skills?” Brighid asked.

“Indeed, for now.” Managing to untangle her legs, the Inquisitor got back up on her feet. “Still much to be desired in him, but no doubt Darth Jin will be most pleased with the report.”

“Relatively speaking, of course,” Brighid shot in, to which the Inquisitor nodded. Darth Jin was never “pleased” with anything. But it would satiate the initial curiosity he had on the boy.

“I’d say he’s not the only one much can be desired from.” Brighid and the Inquisitor turned around to see the old dragon creature, Azurda, was speaking his mind on the matter too. “Take you two, for example.”

“Whatever you’re prying at old man, it’s not worth the effort,” the Inquisitor responded in a slightly annoyed tone. “I fulfill my role with perfection and expertise.”

“And just what role is that?” Azurda leaned his long neck down to get on more even level with the Inquisitor. She was starting to become more annoyed at the dragon’s remarks, and marched to face him more closely.

“A role I dutifully perform,” she reiterated. “Enforcing the rule of law of the Empire for the sake of peace, order, and stability in the galaxy.

“Does the galaxy look stable to you?” Azurda asked, slightly tilting his head.

“Turmoil,” the Inquisitor said, waving her hand as if brushing the issue aside. “Minor problems the Empire might face but nothing it cannot and will not handle. The rebellion will be crushed, and their terrorism will plague the galaxy no more.”

“To be replaced by the terror of the Empire instead?” Why was this old guy asking so many questions? “Can you not feel how worlds are no better off under the crushing thumb of the Empire?” Azurda raised his neck again and took in a deep breath. “Through the Force, the whole galaxy can be felt in one breath, and its cries can be felt too.”

The Special Inquisitor gave a puzzled glance towards Brighid, who only returned the same look. Azurda turned to look down at the duo again.

“Perhaps you’ve spent too long going against the will of the Force. The suffering, the cruelty, the injustice across the galaxy. It bleeds into the Force itself as trillions cry out in pain, be it with a shout or with their own silent thoughts. Life is a precious thing. Does something as vague as “the rule of law” negate that?”

“Your blathering philosophy do not interest me, old man,” the Inquisitor bluntly responded. “And I do not care if the Force needs a band-aid. If such is the price for stability then so be it. Let the pirates and rioters suffer, the galaxy is better off without their ilk anyway.”

“Do you say that because you believe in the Empire?” Azurda queried. “Or do you say that because it’s what you’re trained to do? To go against the will of the Force, to go fight whoever is the designated enemy, and say what you’re doing is the right thing? Are you happy doing what you do?”

The Special Inquisitor was becoming rightly angry at the dragon now, although she kept her exterior calm. “I am content with my position in the imperial hierarchy,” she said. “Besides, I’m Ardainian. We’re most happy when we’re at war. I’m in the perfect position.”

Azurda suddenly jerked his head downwards and faced the Inquisitor at an even level, his head the size of her body but his eyes staring directly into hers. It startled the Special Inquisitor for a moment. “I asked if you were happy. I don’t think you are. Nor do I think your master would be if he could see you now.”

The Special Inquisitor didn’t really understand why, but her breathing started becoming more ragged. A sense of panic in it. As she stared into Azurda’s deep yellow eyes, it was as if she saw something more in them. Heard things that weren’t around before. Marching feet, firing blasters, lightsabers being activated, cries on a battlefield. And a deep, distant echo. An echo she couldn’t make out exactly, yet it felt so familiar. Shouting a familiar name. Not wanting any more of this illusion, the Inquisitor snapped shut her eyes as she turned her head and took a few steps backwards.

“Dammit, get out of my head,” she complained. Opening her eyes again to give Azurda a furious look, the dragon only looked back down upon her with an almost insulting indifference. Brighid moved in closer to the Inquisitor, laying a protective hand on her shoulder. “My old master is dead. I saw to that personally,” the Inquisitor said in a frustrated tone. “And I know going along with the will of the Force is not a viable option anymore. I’m not putting those constraints on myself again.”

“Your master is not truly dead,” Azurda said, further confusing and annoying the Inquisitor. “He lives on through your memories of him.”

The Inquisitor had had enough of this pointless conversation. She simply groaned as she turned her back on Azurda and began marching back to where her fighter stood parked. She didn’t even bother giving any last remarks to the old dragon, she just walked away.

“You will remember what I said,” Azurda shouted at her back as she walked. It wasn’t a question or a proposal, he spoke it like a fact. And the worst part, was that the Special Inquisitor couldn’t deny it. His words had resonated with something inside her.

For the first time in years, the Special Inquisitor felt a twinge of anxiety, deep inside her. She felt uncertain.

…

[Star destroyer]

Mikhail Fett entered the room, where Darth Jin stood in silence. The only sound was that of his breathing apparatus. Not waiting for the Sith lord to take the initiative, Mikhail Fett delivered his report immediately.

“I lost him,” he said. Blunt and straight to the point.

“Most disappointing,” Jin responded, though he continued simply staring out the window at the star destroyer armada.

“The kid got lucky.”

“Since you’re still here, do you have anything of actual value?”

“I got one thing from this. I got the pilot’s name: Rex Skywalker.”

Darth Jin turned his head to look at Mikhail Fett. The two stared at each other for a few moments, both faces concealed by masks. Until Mikhail turned around to leave the room.

“We’re done here then.” Since the bounty hunter hadn’t completed his assigned objective, he wasn’t expecting any rewards. A failed job would stain his reputation. Mikhail was not so eager for that, so his thoughts wandered to where he could find the next good job. Maybe Bana had something for him.

A million different thoughts swirled around in Darth Jin’s head. A million different attempts at different perspectives, how some things led to others. And the Dark Lord started remembering words. Words from a previous life.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Will this power save her?”

“I don’t know you anymore.”

“You were my brother!”

“Is she safe?”

“It seems in your anger… You killed her.”

His mechanical fists shaking as they were clenched. The glass of the window cracking before him. Walls and machines behind him breaking, sparks flying. The Force tearing at whatever it could, his anger and hatred reaching unfathomable levels.

“Skywalker…” Jin mumbled. All these years, all this time. It was all a lie. “I have a son.”

The ripples in the Force he had felt in the trenches of the Death Star. The boy who had screamed at the death of Dunban Kenobi. All the fracturing pieces fell into place. And filled Jin with a new form of determination.

“He will be mine. It will all be mine.”

…

Chapter Text

[Hyperspace]

Crossette had been sitting in silence for the whole trip, something rather unusual for her. The backseat in the cockpit of a freighter shuttle, with two fellow rebels piloting the vessel. They had managed to escape Yavin 4, dropped off supplies and people at the Home One, had a brief rest, then it was right onto the mission. Crossette’s mind wandered back to the conversation she had had with Akhos before she left.

“You were rather vocal on seeking out surviving Separatist Holdouts, correct?” he had asked her.

“Yeah, any help we can get counts, right?”

“Yes, but where would we even find any that have survived this long?”

“I’ve heard there may be something on Nexulon. It’s a remote planet out in the Outer Rim, just off the Celanon Spur.”

“And hearsay is really your best source? Well then, why don’t you check it out? When we’re finishing the evacuation, I’ll have you assigned a shuttle so you can travel to Nexulon. And hopefully yield some type of result.”

Crossette was as sure now as she was back then, that Akhos didn’t really believe her. But she had full faith in finding what she was looking for. Or at least mostly full. Either way, she had an idea of where to look.

…

[Nexulon system]

The shuttle left hyperspace and the planet became visible before them. A large and mostly green rock. No massive oceans, but several large seas. Even from here, the scars shaped by the planets geography could be seen. A vast, deep canyon stretched north to south on the northern hemisphere, brown and dark in coloration around the edges, and a dark red interior. A canyon that stretched so deep, it made a sea of boiling lava visible from space. Several other patches on the planet had similar, smaller brown scars marking deep canyons. But none of them glowed with magma at the bottom, at least not enough for it to be seen from orbit.

The shuttle breached atmosphere, and Crossette helped guide the pilots to the place she had in mind.

As they passed over a small town, on the horizon became visible a decrepit old building. Situated on top of a forested hill was a large black factory-like building, abandoned and left to crumble for decades. If Crossette had to guess, she’d say it was about as tall as the Massassi Temple back on Yavin 4, maybe a bit smaller. And at least one third of that height was just a huge chimney. There was a clearing in front of the building, a patch that hadn’t been covered by forest overgrowth. Wide and open, plenty of room to land the shuttle. The vessel was brought down on the ground, and Crossette and the pilots made their way to the boarding ramp.

“You sure this is the right place?” one of the pilots asked. “It looks pretty abandoned.”

“I’m as sure as I can be, I assure you,” Crossette responded with a cheerful smile.

“Well, alright then. I’ll stay here and guard the shuttle, you two can go on inside.” The pilot didn’t seem wholly convinced by Crossette, but sent her off anyway.

Not able to keep her excitement in check, Crossette simply ran straight for the main entrance. There might have been a door of some kind there at some point but now it was just a hole and frame left. As she walked through the entrance, she slowed her pace drastically, taking careful steps, looking and hearing for anything. The room was dark and shadowy, filled with dust, and eerily silent. The pilot that was sent with her caught up and gazed at the room from the doorway before slowly entering.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he mumbled.

“HELLO!?” Crossette shouted into the nothingness, calling out for whoever could hear her. “ANYONE THERE!?” With only her echo giving answer, a chill went down her spine. Had this whole trip been a bummer? Was there really nothing here? Crossette felt horribly let down for a moment. She really didn’t want to give up, but if the whole factory was just this bleak and abandoned building filled with dust, what could she really do?

The click of a cocked blaster changed her mind completely.

“Surrender, intruders,” a mechanical voice said from behind. Crossette and the pilot turned around, and she had never been so happy to have a blaster pointed at her face.

There stood two B1-battle droids, old and dirty but clearly still fully functional. Crossette couldn’t help but smile and giggle.

“YES! I knew it! Oh, in your face, Akhos! I found them!” The B1 simply got annoyed and pointed its blaster closer to Crossette, reiterating its previous command. “Hey, hey, careful with that,” Crossette nervously chuckled as she held her hands up in surrender.

“Let’s take em to the general upstairs,” one of the B1s said to the other.

“Roger Roger,” the other droid responded. The two droids began marching Crossette and pilot away, deeper into the old factory and up several staircases to whoever this general was.

They were brought up to a large room. At one point it might have been an office of some kind. All the walls and floors were the same dusty black as everything else in the factory, but at least the room had some sunlight, shining in through large windows covering the front of the room. Several other battle droids stood about the place, mostly B1s and also a few B2-super battle droids. Near the front of the room, in front of a desk by the windows, one droid stood out from the rest.

“General, we found these by the main entrance,” one of the B1s reported. “It seems they were looking for us.”

The general turned around and marched forth to Crossette and the pilot. As the droid approached, Crossette couldn’t help but gasp in awe and wonder.

“You’re a super tactical droid!” she said unprompted. The design of the droid gave it all away. Tall, with long and lanky arms and legs, large upper body with a solid build. Its distinct face shape with three eyes, although the left one seemed to be broken. The droid was overall a deep, dark blue navy color, with a few segments colored dark grey. The droid stood taller than Crossette and the pilot, and regarded them closely.

“Correct,” the droid answered in its deep, masculine voice. “I am Stirge, general of this garrison. And you are outsiders. The first outsiders to enter our facility.”

“Well, I can assure you that you have nothing to fear from us,” Crossette responded, partly cheerful and partly nervous. “We’re not enemies, at least we don’t have to be. My name is Crossette, I’m from the Rebel Alliance. We came here hoping to find allies. And it seems we have. Potential allies at least.”

Stirge considered her words for a few moments, before giving his answer. “If it was up to me I’d have you executed on the spot.” Crossette did not like the sound of that answer. “However I am not solely in command here. The admiral will also need to have a look at you.”

Admiral? Not only did they have a general here but an admiral too? This could be good news. Hopefully. Military experience and expertise would greatly aid the rebellion. If they decide to, that is.

“Well, who’s the admiral?” Crossette asked. Just as she spoke, a door at the back of the room opened. Crossette turned to see what it was, and saw someone enter the room from what looked like another type of office, though much darker from the looks of it, no sunlight.

“Admiral Newt, your timing is impeccable as always,” Stirge commented.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing, I know,” the admiral apparently called Newt responded in a dismissive tone. Crossette could hear this was not a droid, but an organic being, female from the voice. The admiral walked the length of the room and placed herself next to Stirge, taking a glance up and down Crossette. “So, what have we got here?”

Crossette took in the overall appearance of the admiral. Greyish-green skin color, and wearing a skin-tight military green uniform covering most of her body. The uniform had a few embroidered patterns in gold, black, and light blue. She also wore long black boots, going all the way up to her thighs, and over her black hair was a hat of some military branch with a large green cap. Her fiery red eyes lay behind a pair of glasses, and there was a sense of extreme passion behind them. Crossette felt a lump in her throat and gulped briefly before explaining herself to the admiral.

“Like I told your lovely droid companion here,” Crossette began, hoping to sound polite. “I am Crossette from the Rebel Alliance, and we came here looking for allies to our cause.”

“The rebellion, huh?” Admiral Newt said, rubbing her chin in faux pondering. “Remind me, what’s the full formal name of your little organization again?”

“It’s the Alliance to Restore the Republic,” Crossette responded, slightly puzzled but still complying.

“And there you hit it, honey,” Newt exclaimed, as if celebrating the correct answer on a game show. “You failed your mission before it began so you’ll be better off packing your things and leaving.” Newt immediately turned around and walked over to the desk by the front window, placing herself down into a chair that stood close by. She didn’t even bother to give a second glance.

“What?” Crossette exclaimed in confusion. “Just like that? You can’t be serious!” Crossette tried to walk over to the admiral before Stirge stepped in her way.

“Allies of the Republic are no allies of us,” the super tactical droid stated. “You’ve been given a chance to leave with your lives. Take it.”

“No,” Crossette defiantly responded as she pushed the droid aside and continued marching forward. Making her way around the desk and slamming her hands down onto the surface, she looked Newt right into the eyes, an expression of fiery determination in her face. “Why? We’ve never done anything against you. So why are you being so dismissive?”

“Like bolts for brains over there said,” Newt began, nodding towards Stirge. “You won’t find any Republic sympathy here.” Newt stood up and kicked the chair back from behind, leaning over the desk to stand more eye-to-eye with Crossette. “We’re separatists. We fought against the Republic. Or maybe you’re not old enough to remember what the Clone Wars was all about? It was about a desire for freedom being crushed by the foot of brutal tyranny led by the core worlds. Fighting for the Republic is the last thing you’ll ever see me doing. I’m not gonna betray the beliefs I stood for and still do, not after all these years.” Newt stood up from the desk again and turned her back to Crossette, crossing her arms.

“All these years,” Crossette softly said, her expression changed to one of empathy and concern. “You’ve been here all these years, with just your beliefs.”

“And our pragmatic sense,” Stirge mentioned as he moved to stand next to Newt, looking down at Crossette. “Our will to fight was never weakened, however our chances of victory were constantly dwindling. By the time of betrayal against the Jedi by the clones, the Confederacy was already on the verge of collapse. However, by hiding here, we could preserve our existence and protect our beliefs.”

 “Beliefs in what? Hiding like womp rats?” Crossette asked. “How could you come to such a conclusion? How have you even managed to survive this whole time?”

“The moral of the story is learning to swallow a nasty pill, kid,” Newt said, slightly turning her head. “Nexulon was remote, but formally within separatist space. Nobody had given the planet any glance for ages. Nothing happens out here. The most you’ll ever hear about Nexulon is in a fun fact compilation, stating how its got one of the biggest and deepest canyons in the galaxy. We figured the best course of action was to retreat here, after our communications with the rest of the fleet broke down. And so we stayed, holed up in this old, abandoned fuel refinery.” She started pacing about the room as she talked. “The droids would be fine but I needed sustenance, else I’d go even more insane than I already have. We made a little deal with the locals, they’d bring over some food every once in a while. And in return, I’d get the droids interchangeably hooked up to some local HoloNet servers performing maintenance. Even a simple B1 can do a surprisingly good job at that. And that was our system, for all these years.”

“And you’d rather continue doing that than fight for the rebellion?” Crossette asked, one eyebrow raised in pure confusion. “We fight for freedom too, y’know. And honestly, I don’t think you’re justified anymore in saying you don’t want to fight for the Republic.” That got her an ice-cold glare from the admiral.

“And why is that?” Newt asked, her voice thoroughly annoyed.

“Because the Republic doesn’t exist anymore,” Crossette said. “The separatists didn’t win the Clone Wars but neither did the Republic. Everyone lost and only the Empire won. The Rebel Alliance is not some government-in-exile trying to retake lost power, it’s a new group hoping to restore what was lost. Ridding the galaxy of the tyranny of the Empire and restore peace and democracy to the galaxy.”

“Yeah, and here’s the kicker,” Newt responded. “You wanna restore the Republic. Yeah that whole peace and democracy slogan is nice and good, but the Republic also did ruthless exploitation of the rim for the sake of fattening the coffers of the core. The Republic you wanna restore is a pipe dream, kid. And who knows, give democracy another thousand years and it’ll probably just result in a new empire again. The Republic had always been that anyway, it was just made formal at the end of the Clone Wars.”

“Well then why don’t you help us restore a BETTER Republic?” Crossette said, a hint of pleading in her voice. “Who better to restore the Republic and all those who were oppressed by it? Coming together and fixing what is broken. Unity, solidarity, peace across the galaxy, that’s what the Republic always stood for!”

“And how are those oppressed gonna fight for what they want?!” Newt retorted, shouting back at Crossette. “Half the galaxy stood up against the Republic, and we were crushed. Do you think doing the same against the Empire is gonna make any difference? The Republic held back and still annihilated us! The Empire doesn’t constrain itself! And our pitiful little bunch of rusting bucketheads isn’t going to make a difference, the Empire would destroy us, just like they’re gonna destroy your incessant Rebel Alliance!”

Crossette felt shook by the admiral’s words. She felt her fist clenching, but kept herself calm. She wasn’t angry, only distraught. “Is that what you think?” she asked. “That there’s no hope in the galaxy against the Empire?” Crossette waited a few moments, hoping the admiral would answer. “But you’re wrong. There IS hope. We CAN beat the Empire, if we just fight back. Hiding in a hole the rest of our life, or simply letting the Empire push us around isn’t gonna cut it. We have to ACT.”

“What can a band of misfits do against the Empire?” Newt asked, clearly rhetorically, but she was still answered.

“Destroy a planet killer,” Stirge spoke up, getting a glance from Newt. “Up until recently, the rebellion had a mere 0.05% chance of victory against the Empire. However the Battle of Yavin tilted those odds greatly. By my calculations, the Rebel Alliance as it stands now have a 23.27% chance of victory, an immense increase from before.”

“You see?” Crossette said, hope in her tone as she walked over to the admiral. “There is a chance. If you just believe in it, and fight for it. You’ve held onto your beliefs for this long, so go out there and show the Empire you’re serious about upholding them!” Crossette reached her arm, holding it out for Newt to take. “Join us in the Rebel Alliance. Help restore a better Republic. One that you would be proud of. Please.”

Newt regarded Crossette’s outstretched hand for a few moments before gazing back up into her eyes. “The Republic and it’s cabal can burn in hell for all I care,” she began, her words saddening Crossette’s expression. “But… I suppose the fight isn’t over yet. Republic, Empire, it’s all the same anyway.” A confident smirk formed across Newt’s face as she looked over to Stirge. “What you say, tinhead? Maybe it’s time to get back into the fray?”

Crossette turned to look at the droid, moving her arms so her right hand was stretched out to Stirge and her left hand towards Newt.

“Return to combat?” Stirge said, calculating his thoughts for a moment. “The separatists were enemies of the Republic. The Republic became the Empire. That makes the separatists enemies of the Empire. The Rebel Alliance are enemies of the Empire, and therefore our allies. I am content with this logic.”

Crossette smiled brightly as both the general and admiral reached out and shook her hands.

“General! Admiral!” one B1 droid chimed in. “We’re receiving a message from the president.”

“Been a while since we’ve heard from him,” Newt commented. “Let’s hear it.”

A holorecorded message was displayed in the middle of the room for everyone to see. The man in the recording, which Crossette presumed was the president of Nexulon, appeared to be a human in his 60s, wearing a fancy suit and robes. Stirge was particularly quick to note something was off, however.

“This is not the same president as before,” he said, to which Newt nodded and put an expression of careful suspicion on her face.

“Greetings,” the recorded message began. “I wager the first thing you’ll ponder is who I am. I am the new president and that’s all you need to know about that. To get down to business, I have a vision for this planet, a great many plans. And you sorry lot are an obstacle to those plans. I will not be as kind and tolerant as my predecessor was to your little hideout on the hill. I seek to restore Nexulon to something worthwhile. I have reached out to the Empire and asked for their help to revive the industrial capacities of Nexulon, something they gladly agreed to. With support from the Empire, I shall lead our planet into the future. The old refineries shall be up and running again, including the one you’re holed up in. When I informed my imperial contacts of the presence of a separatist holdout in one of the factories we wanted to restore, they so generously offered to root those parasites out. Who was I to deny them? I want to make sure you get this message just in time to watch stormtroopers mow down your defenses. I would say that there’s no hard feelings, but truth be told I do find great joy in knowing you all will soon be but scrap metal. The last of the old Confederacy dies with you all today. Goodbye.” With that, the message shut itself off.

Crossette looked about the room with a worried glance. The droid had unreadable expressions, but Newt was thoroughly pissed off.

“I’ll wring that bastard’s neck,” Newt mumbled to herself.

Crossette turned to look out the window, and did not like what she saw. “This is not good,” she mumbled.

Outside, a star destroyer could be seen high in the air. And a large landing craft had placed itself close to the rebel shuttle, deploying a score of stormtroopers and arresting the pilot that had left behind. In addition, another landing craft delivered an AT-ST walker. It seemed leaving Nexulon would be a more daring undertaking than Crossette had initially thought it would be.

As Newt looked outside the window at the squadron of stormtroopers, she took in the whole situation before she started laughing maniacally. “Two decades of pent-up frustration!” she declared. “It’ll all come crashing down on em now, ha!”

“It has only been 19 standard years since the Clone Wars ended,” Stirge corrected, but Newt seemed to purposefully ignore him.

“Are you sure this old bunch of droids is gonna cut it?” Crossette asked, gesturing about the room to all the B1s gathered, which seemed to exchange slightly offended glances at each other about her remark. “I mean, it’s been a few years since they’ve seen combat. At least I assume so.”

“You insult me, sweetheart,” Newt retorted, wagging a finger at Crossette. Although her expression didn’t seem offended at all. “I’ve had all these years with nothing but droids as company. Between recording my memoirs, tinkering with them and keeping the lot in good shape was just about the only thing I could do to not go insane with brooding. Oh, and FYI: B2-supers don’t have recording systems, and they’ll wait at least eight years before they tell you so.”

“I tried telling you the first day, but you wouldn’t listen,” Stirge shot in. The droid’s face remained as unchangeable as ever, but Crossette could just feel Stirge figuratively roll his eyes.

“Come on, we gotta get down to the workshop,” Newt declared. “Stirge, send a unit to the front of the facility to keep the enemy occupied. Make that entrance into a murder hole.” Crossette was a little thrown back when Newt referred to the super tactical droid by name rather than an insult this time. It only showed her heart and mind was in full combat mode.

Nodding at the given command, Stirge put one hand to the side of his head to tune in contact with a squadron of battle droids and gave the orders. “Squadron four-seven-B, reinforce the facility entrance hall. Do not let anyone through.”

Wasting no time in waiting further, Newt quickly ushered everyone out of the room and led them down deeper into the refinery. The new corridors were as dark and dusty as the old ones Crossette had been taken through, but nobody seemed to vocally complain about it. The sounds of distant laser fire revealed fighting at the entrance had begun. Would the old battle droids really be enough against the imperial forces? She sure hoped so.

“Here we are!” Newt eventually said as the group halted before a pair of large black doors. Pushing them open revealed a large room filled with all sorts of mechanical tools and parts. Pieces of old droids and broken machinery and weapon parts all laid scattered about in boxes, on top of tables, and in random piles across the floor. “This is where the magic happens,” Newt proudly declared as she entered the room. “This is where we keep the rest of the inactivate battle droids at the facility. Stirge sent about half our active forces to the entrance. Most of the other B1s were already with us, but we got supers and even droidekas here.”

Crossette felt her inner tech geek rise up. “Woah, there’s so much stuff in here. For droids, and weapons, and even explosives!”

“You got an eye for blowing stuff up, kid?” Newt asked, a look of admiration on the admiral’s face.

“Yeah, demolition is my field of expertise!” Crossette enthusiastically nodded. “I’m always trying to make new and better types of bombs. I even have some blueprints for a scattering type of ion bomb.” Crossette was quick and eager to pull up her data pad where she kept the blueprints and showed it off to Newt.

“Hmmmm… I see,” Newt said as she took hold of the data pad, inspecting the schematics. “What’s missing is… but maybe… we have some of that… ooooh, and if we use buzz droid missiles as a base… Yes. YES! This might just work!” Newt excitedly shouted in her eureka moment. “What was your name again? Crosshair?”

“Uh, actually it’s Crosset-” she was cut off before she could complete.

“I’ll be doing the magic with this blueprint of yours,” Newt commanded. Crossette could see behind the admiral’s fiery eyes and giddy smile that she was thinking up quite the plan. “You work with Stirge to get the kamikaze unit up and going, it’ll be perfect for you.” Crossette was thrown slightly aback by the mention of a kamikaze unit and shot a bewildered look towards the super tactical droid. “And you lot,” Newt pointed to the B1s that had accompanied them, as well as the pilot of Crossette’s shuttle. “Get the rest of the droids up and running. We’ll blaze our way out of this pit and straight for the shuttle you guys came in, and I’m leaving no functioning droid behind!”

Just as she had given the orders, Newt ran off to a corner of the room to work her stuff, giggling somewhat maniacally all along the way.

“Come, we must be quick,” Stirge said to Crossette as he led her over to their workstation. Near one of the walls of the room laid a large pile of junk pieces and circuitry parts, along with some type of droid Crossette wasn’t sure what was. “This is the experimental kamikaze unit. An original creation of the admiral during our time here,” Stirge informed. At face value it seemed like a pretty simple droid. It had the upper body, or at least the upper shell, of a B2-super battle droid. It notably didn’t have any arms, and its lower body was attached to a pair of thick chain tracks. It seemed fit to carry a fair amount of small cargo, and the tracks might move it along fast across most surfaces. “The idea was that it would be filled with explosives and rush towards the enemy,” Stirge explained. “But we haven’t been able to make the proper configurations and connections to combine the B2 droid brain with setting off the explosives.”

“And you think I can help with that?” Crossette asked, looking back and forth from the droid model and the droid general.

“Can you?” Stirge responded.

Pondering for a few moments, looking over the material available to her, and mentally examining the problem in question, Crossette eventually responded. “Yeah. Yeah I think I might be able to help.”

…

[Facility entrance hall]

Every time Crossette had heard about the battle tactics utilized by the separatist battle droids, it had always been described the same way: walk headfirst into danger and use sheer firepower and numbers to overwhelm the enemy. And yet here the battle droids had entrenched themselves at the facility entrance, using walls and corners and large crates to their advantage. From what she could see, only about three B1s had been shot down so far, as compared to at least twice as many stormtroopers piled up around the entryway. It was impressive. The firefight was still raging on, troopers and droids peeking out from corners as they fired their blasters at each other, neither side hitting any targets, but keep the pressure on both. It was a bottleneck trapping them all.

“So what’s our plan to get out?” Crossette asked. She, along with Stirge, Newt, the pilot, and all the reactivated droids, were hiding behind an open doorway. They knew more stormtroopers were waiting just outside, along with an AT-ST. Getting out would not be easy.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Newt asked as she gave Crossette a smug look. “We walk headfirst into the danger and use our sheer firepower and numbers to overwhelm the enemy!”

Crossette couldn’t help but give her a dumbfounded look. Was that really the grand escape plan the admiral had cooked up in her mind up until now? It seemed Stirge read her expression and proceeded to explain in further detail.

“The droideka destroyers will act as out vanguard,” he said. “Following will be our B2-super battle droid units. Two shielded droidekas followed by three B2s will provide ample armored cover for the kamikaze droid.”

The rebel pilot interrupted Stirge’s explanation. “I thought WE were the ones who was trying to get out of this place,” he said in an irritated tone. “Not the bomb on wheels here.”

“A mobile explosive unit has one purpose,” Stirge continued, giving a slightly annoyed glance at the pilot as he spoke. “The ranks of troopers will be cleared away before the kamikaze unit neutralizes the AT-ST awaiting outside. A successful hit is our one option of escape, otherwise we have no firepower that could defeat it.”

“And that’s when all the rest of you,” Newt said, pointing around to everyone. “Hurry on over to your little shuttle ship. I have a speeder parked outside, and I’ll be taking this,” Newt pulled on a large bag she had carried from the workshop. Crossette didn’t know what was in it but she suspected it was related to the bomb blueprints she had made. “And get it fitted into the right place.”

The admiral’s words were vague to Crossette, but Stirge seemed to have an idea of what she was talking about.

“Oh, by the maker,” he sighed. Can droids sigh? “Don’t tell me you’ll try to get that thing up and running.”

“Don’t you doubt my abilities, you old rust bucket,” Newt wagged a finger at Stirge. “I’m a master at salvagery.”

The super tactical droid simply stared down at the admiral for a few moments before deciding it was no use arguing or complaining, and instead getting started with the plan.

“D-7, D-5, engage,” he ordered. As commanded, the droidekas rolled out straight into the line of fire exchanged between the droids and troopers. Quickly setting themselves up into a standing position and activating their shields, the droidekas fired relentlessly upon the troopers amassed in the door entranceway, felling multiple before they managed to pull back. “Escort KD-01 to the entrance,” Stirge ordered as he looked towards the three B2 supers present. Following his command, the supers left the hiding space and fell in line behind the droidekas, with the kamikaze droid having wheeled itself out and following the supers. Stormtroopers tried firing from behind the outside, but the droideka shields shook it off, their own constant firing along with backup from the supers driving the imperial troopers away. “Now’s our chance, fall in line,” Stirge commanded. Following his lead, they all rushed out from hiding and followed the battle droid caravan. Crossette felt extremely nervous, but a glance towards Newt showed the admiral with an almost wicked grin upon her face. She was enjoying this combat. A glance ahead towards the outside gave Crossette only further worries.

“The AT-ST is approaching!” she exclaimed, pointing out towards the walker as it started moving towards the entrance of the facility.

Newt jerked towards Crossette and grabbed hold of her collar, pulling her close to the admiral’s face. “You’re certain the kamikaze droid works, right?” she asked, that grin still on her face.

“Y-yeah, I’m sure,” Crossette responded, the panic in her voice audible.

“You made all the right configurations? Hooked up the explosion timer properly?” Newt asked again, to which Crossette nodded. She had made sure the circuits in the droid brain was properly connected to the activators, overwriting the inherent programming of self-preservation already present in the droid. “Good!” Newt exclaimed. “Then let’s make some space for the fireworks!”

The droidekas folded themselves up and rolled out the entrance way. The B2 supers stepped aside and gave free passage. The AT-ST was just a stone throw away from the entrance now, ready to fire. The kamikaze droid set its receptors on the target, beeped a few noises, then a burst of energy seemed to fill it up. The belted track wheels sped up rapidly, and in a near-instant the droid was out of the room. If Crossette had blinked she’d have missed it. The pilots of the AT-ST certainly did not see it in time. The kamikaze droid rushed towards the walker, aiming straight for one of the legs, hit point blank and exploded in a massive storm of smoke and fire. To others, the noise of the explosion and the visuals of the fire would be deafening and overwhelming. But Crossette was overcome with awe and an almost soothing feeling, her worries and anxiety from the exchange of blaster fire evaporated in the spectacle of explosives. She couldn’t help but smile at as she saw the huge walker topple over, its left leg obliterated. As it fell, the droidekas posed outside began firing wildly towards the walker, further damaging its exterior. But the AT-ST was still somewhat operative, and as it crashed down the walker fired a powerful blast towards one of the droidekas. The shield did little to protect the droid as it was annihilated by a single, powerful shot. The other droideka simply kept firing, aiming towards the walker’s cannons. The fall had already done severe damage, and the merciless pummeling of blaster fire from the droideka finished it off, frying the cannons and making the walker catch fire from the inside.

But the battle was not over yet. The remaining stormtroopers had regrouped around the rebel shuttle, and from there they fired up towards the droid group. The B2 supers took the lead, firing back at the troopers as they led the remaining B1s towards battle.

“Alright, I’m outta here,” Newt declared as they all started walking around the broken mess of the AT-ST.

“What?” Crossette exclaimed, looking at Newt with confusion. “You’re just gonna leave?”

“My speeder’s right around the corner,” Newt responded as she pointed with her thumb. “It should take me to where I need to go, and you should get to running to where YOU need to go.”

“The shuttle can probably carry us all,” the rebel pilot began. “But it won’t help us get past the star destroyer we saw deploy these imps.”

“Do you see any star destroyer in the sky?” Newt rhetorically asked. “It’s probably gone on towards Nexus City by now. Far from here.

“But those things never go alone,” Crossette shot in. “There’s probably another up in orbit. How will we get past that?”

“Just get to where you need to be,” Newt reiterated. “I’ve got some more tricks up my sleeve, you’ll see!” Without any more words, Newt turned around and ran along the wall of the facility towards one of the corners, disappearing behind it afterwards. Crossette just shook her head, but deciding it was better to just get along with whatever crazy ideas the admiral had.

Looking down the hill towards the shuttle, Crossette could see the stormtroopers were falling back to the tree line surrounding the place as the battle droids approached. Wasting no time and running for the ship, Crossette could see the imperials had taken substantially more losses. Several stormtroopers laid littered around the shuttle, whilst only two of their own B2 supers, as well as one B1, had been felled. If Newt had wanted to get away with as many droids as possible, it seems she got her wish.

The boarding ramp was open, and the rebel pilot that had been left with the vessel sat cuffed inside. Crossette rushed to free him as she and the others boarded the vessel.

“Found yourself some friends, huh?” the pilot asked in an amused tone as he saw the entourage enter the vessel.

When they had touched down on Nexulon, it was just the two pilots and Crossette. Now, they also had twelve B1-battle droids, one B2-super, one droideka, and the super tactical droid that commanded them. All in all, a good increase in numbers. But where was Newt heading?

…

[forests outside the facility]

Other than having to brush away a bit of dirt and fallen leaves, the old speeder still worked perfectly well. Hauling her cargo on the back and hopping onto the speeder, Newt raced through the forest as quickly as she could. The undergrowth was dense, but she had taken this route before, she knew the way.

Braking the vehicle as she approached a huge, deep ravine, Newt looked down from atop the cliff into the depths before her. A river of red, boiling magma could be seen at the very bottom, illuminating the black pit. Looking behind her towards the old refinery, she saw the shuttle the rebels had arrived in lift up and soar over the tree crowns of the forest, up into the sky. She had to be quick.

Without a moments hesitation, she put the speeder on as much speed as she could. Racing forth along the edge of the deep canyon, down a long descending path along the cliff wall. And then she saw it, the colossal opening forming an overhanging cave. Shaped as if a giant had simply taken a fistful of earth and stone right out from the wall, like a curious toddler would do to a fancy cake.

And there it stood. Stirge had given up on it years ago, broken down and without proper repairs before the war suddenly ended. But she hadn’t given up. And she would prove that her faith and determination was not in vain. She was gonna show that walking hunk of junk just what she was capable of repairing, even when working alone.

“One last glorious day for the Confederacy of Independent Systems,” Newt mumbled to herself, smiling as she stepped on board.

…

[space over Nexulon]

As the shuttle breached the atmosphere, Crossette could feel her sense of worrying continuously rise. Had they seriously just left Newt behind? And looking out of the cockpit didn’t put much reassurance on Crossette either. There, right in front of them, was a star destroyer. No doubt they knew of the troubles the stormtroopers had experienced down at the refinery, and now they were ready to blast this shuttle to space dust. Even so, they had no choice but to fly headfirst forward. With but the slimmest of hopes that they could evade the destroyer the escape into hyperspace.

“Our chances of successfully escaping,” Stirge began as he leaned over the pilots and gazed out the front window. “Are near absolute zero.” How reassuring. Since when did droids start calculating percentages with temperature terms?

“Hey wait,” one of the pilots suddenly said. “We’re getting in a call from someone! It’s not the imperial destroyer.”

“Let’s hear it, now!” Crossette exclaimed, not waiting for the pilots and just pushing the button to receive the call herself.

“You assholes got room for one more? Ha ha!” the familiar voice of Newt laughed over the communications. “Admiral Newt reporting for duty, and I’m bringing the whole damn armada with me!”

Just in that moment, a huge starship soared past the shuttle at full speed, moving to engage the star destroyer.

“This is illogical,” Stirge said in a shocked tone. “She got it to work again. She really did it.”

There, flying through space, was a munificent-class star frigate. Once it had been an icon of the separatist navy and symbol of the CIS war effort. As recognizable as the Republic venator had been. And now it was facing off against the successor to its old rival, the imperial star destroyer.

“Oh yeah, baby!” Newt cackled over the communications. “She’s up and running again! In your face, blue balls!”

“Admiral, do be cautious,” Stirge quickly responded, a degree of concern hiding in his tone. “The frigate may be operative but it still stands very little chance against a modern imperial destroyer.”

“I know, I know,” Newt responded, perhaps slightly annoyed but still as ecstatic and fired up as before. “Just get yourself into the hangar, our fighters will handle the rest.”

As if on cue, Crossette could see a whole squadron of fighters fly out from the hangars. There were maybe about twenty-three in total, all of them droid fighters that the Confederacy had used during the Clone Wars.

In response, the star destroyer sent out its own squadron of TIE fighters to counter the droid fighters. The TIEs outnumbered the droids, but the droid fighters were faster, and way more ferocious.

As the munificent slowed down in order to keep some safe distance from the star destroyer, the rebel shuttle took the opportunity to land inside the hangar. Crossette was quick to rush out, wanting to see the old ship from the inside.

“I didn’t know you had this ol’ thing lying around!” Crossette eagerly said to Stirge as he descended the boarding ramp of the shuttle.

“I did not think it was operative or combat-worthy anymore,” Stirge responded. “Come, we must get to the bridge and admiral Newt immediately.”

Nodding, Crossette let the super tactical droid lead the way.

Out in space, the vulture droids were relentlessly fighting the TIEs, using their high speed and sophisticated targeting system to the full advantage. None of the droids had seen combat in years, but this was the very thing they were programmed for. And they were all eager to prove their worth again after so long. The ferocity of the vultures managed to keep the pressure more on the star destroyer than the munificent, with the turbolasers trying to snipe down the fighters rather than firing away at the opposing frigate. All the while, the munificent used a bit of its own firepower to whittle away at the destroyers shielding. But the vultures wouldn’t be enough to destroy all the turbolaser cannons. The escape plan relied on something else.

As Crossette and Stirge reached the bridge, they were met with Newt pretty much singlehandedly operating the entire vessel. Although much of it was automated, it still impressive how much the admiral kept track of as she commandeered the frigate.

“Newt, I must admit you exceed my expectations,” Stirge seemed to praise as he entered the room. Newt turned and faced the droid with a smile on her face and fire in her eyes. The thrill of battle was all over her.

“Never doubt me again, mister-screw-loose,” Newt responded, still smiling. “The Blade of Fire is space-worthy again, and I’m gonna show those damn imperials that new isn’t always best.”

“Are you sure this is gonna be enough for us to get away?” Crossette asked as she stepped next to the admiral. “I mean, star destroyers are pretty tough, and they have more TIEs.”

“Well that’s where YOU come in, darling,” Newt said as she pointed directly at Crossette, who only returned a confused look. “Well, more specifically the bomb you designed.” Crossette’s face lit up at the mention of her experimental weapon design. Had Newt cracked the code and gotten it to work? “About seven of my hyena bombers were still functional, and I outfitted a few of them with the new load. Y’see, I saw from your blueprints that the hard part of the scatter bomb was the actual scatter part. But I had some tech that could do that, I whipped it together in the workshop, and now we wait for the bombers to hit their mark! That star destroyer will make a fine test subject, don’t you think?”

“If they get that opportunity, that is,” Stirge commented. “You’ve already lost three bombers and twice as many vulture fighters.” Stirge pointed to an information screen on one of the computer panels, showing the active fighters.

“We just need to be patient and hope for the best,” Newt responded, her teeth slightly gritted as she talked. Some of her chaotic confidence seemed to have slipped away.

“May the Force be with us,” Crossette said as she looked out the windows of the bridge at the space battle unfolding.

A unit of vultures tried escorting a hyena bomber to get a safe and secure shot, but multiple TIEs fell upon them. The vulture fighters sped up, trying to avoid the blasts from the TIEs, deciding to abandon the hyena they escorted. The bomber tried to pull an evasive maneuver, at the same time the vultures desperately tried shaking off the pursuing TIEs. None of the vultures managed to evade in time and was blown up by TIE firepower. Another squad of vultures came from the side, trying to relieve the pursued bomber, but the TIEs dodged away, breaking formation in the process. The hyena bomber was armored and not directly pursued at the moment, but it was slower than the regular fighters and very exposed. Looking to protect with numbers rather than overwhelm, the vultures all changed tactic. Congregating in the numbers they had trying to form a defensive swarm around some of the bombers, firing away wildly at any approaching TIE. Even as the rain of blaster fire went in all directions and laid heavy casualties upon the TIE fighters, it still wasn’t the perfect defensive tactic. The bombers wouldn’t have a clean shot this way. One hyena tried breaking off from the formation, seizing its moment and charging the star destroyer. Even as TIEs pursued, the droid fighter did not hesitate even a second. The one vulture that had accompanied it was quickly shot down. Another vulture, already partly damaged, came from nowhere, plummeting on from above and crashing directly into a pursuing TIE, blowing up both fighters. It was now or never, the hyena bomber had the perfect show. Firing its specialized bomb, the scattering ion bomb hit the star destroyer. One explosion led to another as the weapon blew up in several smaller explosives, again and again, creating a storm of ionizing EMP. One bomb had disabled an entire star destroyer.

“This is our chance!” Newt exclaimed as she witnessed it all from the bridge. “Let’s give em hell!”

Calling the surviving droid fighters back, the frigate unleashed its full firepower down upon the star destroyer. Turbolasers rained down on the imperial cruiser from the more than two dozen cannons mounted on the underside of the frigate. Sheer firepower tore away at the defenseless imperial vessel, creating huge explosions across the entire ship.

As impressive of a spectacle as it was, Crossette couldn’t help but be slightly unnerved by the maniacal laughter from Newt as she mercilessly fired upon the destroyer. As the ship started to break apart, Stirge put a hand on Newt’s shoulder.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said. “They’re dead now.” It seemed Newt reluctantly came back to her senses.

“What? Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever.” Newt then turned to face Crossette. “Alright kid, you know where we should be going. So let’s get outta here before reinforcements arrive.”

“Right.” Nodding, Crossette went over to a computer and implemented the proper hyperspace coordinates. A few more moments went by, the munificent being steered away from pointing directly at the burning destroyer, and then the ship jumped off into hyperspace.

…

[Rebel cruiser Home One]

Crossette figured it was a somewhat peculiar sight as she walked through the corridors of the Home One. Herself and Newt weren’t that out of place, but Stirge was a different story. A droid that wasn’t an astromech or protocol droid wasn’t that common to see in the Rebel Alliance. There was the occasional mercenary droid or reprogrammed imperial droid, but never any super tactical droids.

Passing a window, Newt stopped in her walk and gazed out at the stars and ships among them. Her eyes fell directly upon her own ship, the munificent-class frigate dubbed Blade of Fire. Visually, it did stand out from the rest of the rebel fleet. But it would make a fine addition to the rag-tag collection, as would the couple thousand droids it carried. The squadron of vultures and hyenas would also benefit the rebellion as a whole greatly.

“C’mon, we gotta get you properly introduced,” Crossette said, ushering the duo of former separatists along with her.

Reaching the command room of the Mon Calamari cruiser, Crossette was met with the sight of the rebellion’s highest leaders as she entered the room. Mon Mothma, Jan Dodonna, Admiral Ackbar, they were all gathered. Akhos was present too, and now their gaze turned to Crossette and her followers.

“Told you I’d find someone,” Crossette cheerily said to Akhos as she entered the room. Most eyes fell upon Stirge, though Newt and Crossette herself received a few glances from crew and personnel present. Mon Mothma fixed her gaze on Crossette. Despite being the leading head of the rebellion, Crossette did not feel overwhelmed by her look. There was a sense of reassurance in it, actually.

“It seems your rumors of hearsay paid off,” Akhos commented as he stepped forth to greet the new arrivals.

“Alright, lemme introduce you all!” Crossette eagerly said. “This here’s Newt, admiral of the separatist navy. And this is Stirge, general of the droid army.” The duo nodded at their names and looked around the room as they did so, Newt even giving a friendly wave to the Alliance leaders.

“Fascinating,” Akhos said as he looked Stirge up and down. “I didn’t know the likes of you were still even operating.”

“I elected to ignore the shutdown command when it was received,” Stirge responded.

“Yeah, who sends a signal like that when there’s war raging?” Newt shot in.

“What matters is the war we fight now,” Mon Mothma said as she approached them. “And I would be most grateful to have you on board. Together we can restore a better Republic.”

Newt simply looked at Mon Mothma for a few moments, probably taking a few moments to consider her words.

“Still not really Team Republic,” Newt said. “But… I reckon you’ll need the likes of me if you wanna restore a non-tyrannical Republic.” Newt gave a small nod as she smiled at Mon Mothma. “Glad to be on board the team, ma’am.”

“The Empire does stand a greater chance of victory in this conflict,” Stirge pointed out. “But I am willing to rely on our slim chances. For the rebellion.” With that, Stirge reached out an open hand to Mon Mothma, who in turn took his navy-blue droid hand into her own. Smiles all around filled the room as the two shook hands in solidarity. Crossette especially had the brightest smile of them all on her face.

…

Chapter Text

[Genbu surface]

It was supposed to be a simple job: get to the safe cache and extract the stationed personnel and equipment. Mostly weapons, but also some fighters, fuel, food, and intel documents. One transport would be enough, the fighters would have their own pilots. It would all go so smoothly, take a day at most. Of course, the leadership had clearly not accounted for the weather and its effects on the ship engines. Whatever was going on in the atmosphere of this planet, it messed up the engines of the transport ship, in addition to its communications and navigations. In and of itself, that wouldn’t be so bad. After all, there would already be people on the ground who knew how to fix it. The problem was the whole planet was a frozen hellhole, and not getting any warmer.

Apparently the planet Genbu went through regularly scheduled ice ages, and the current glacial maximum would last at least another 80 standard years before giving way to summer. A result of the planet’s orbit around its star, as well as the effects the nearby nebula was having on the atmosphere. Mythra couldn’t help but wonder how she of all people had been assigned this mission, surely there were warmer planets available?

She could complain as much as she wanted, the weather wasn’t getting any better. All Mythra could do was cover herself in all the warm clothes she could and wait. Wait for the engineers to finish repairs on the transport, then it was outta here. In the meantime, walking around was the best option for keeping warm. And walk around was what she did.

It gave her a pretty good overview of their little base of operations. It wasn’t much, just a small valley in between to large mountains. By land, it was only through a small underpass in the mountains that the valley was accessible, and with the raging blizzard and weird effects the atmosphere had on computers it made approaching from the sky nigh impossible, at least if you were planning on not being involuntarily grounded for hours upon end. Small overhangs and cave inlets allowed supplies and fighters to be kept safe from the constant snowfall, but the biting cold still blew in with the winds.

Wanting to think about something other than just how cold it was, Mythra started making her way to the transport ship where all the engineers were working. She knew Tora was among those working, and figured a chat with the Nopon wouldn’t hurt. The snow was almost knee-high and difficult to wade through, but she had gotten used to it by now. It was very powdery, so the snow didn’t lump up on her clothes to weigh her down or melt through. Reaching the transport, Mythra saw Tora and some others working on some panels and wiring on the side of the ship, close to the rear end engines.

“Hey Tora!” Mythra called out, having to shout to be heard through the blizzard. “You making any progress on that thing?”

“Meh? Oh! Princess!” Tora called back as he turned around to see Mythra. Hopping down from his workplace and landing with a poof in the snow, Tora waddled closer to Mythra to converse with her. “Tora making good progress actually, meheheh.” Mythra couldn’t help but crack a small smile at Tora’s confident pose as he delivered the good news. Even though Tora’s feathers gave him a degree of inherent insulation against the cold, he had still packed layers of clothing onto himself, including work goggles to keep the snow out of his large eyes.  “Tora making so good progress, in fact, he forgetting how cold he is.”

“Well, sorry for breaking you out of that trance,” Mythra giggled as Tora shook snow off himself as the cold started setting in. “But seriously, what’s the status on the ship? I’d rather we leave here as soon as possible.”

“Meh meh, not to worry princess,” Tora reaffirmed her. “Engine repairs practically completed. Computer systems should be done soon too. Although Tora can’t say same for all fighters stationed, meh.”

“What’s wrong with the fighters?” Mythra asked, feeling a little bit of worry in her tone.

“Squad leader says some been stationed so long, weird atmosphere cook computers like tasty sausage on open fire,” Tora responded. The Nopon had a tendency to compare things to food, usually tasty sausages. “Might need to take fighters apart to store on transport and fix elsewhere.”

“And I thought this planet couldn’t get worse,” Mythra groaned as she rubbed her temples in annoyance. Just in that moment, another foresight vision came to her.

A dreadful sight in the white storm. An imperial star destroyer hovering in the blizzard. Crafts deploying troops into the snow. Fighters of both the Empire and Rebellion clashing in the skies. And a new weapon, something attached to a walker. Something blasting their transport out of the air.

Mythra felt herself thrown back a little as she returned to the present. She felt herself taking gasping breaths, which in turn made Tora pull a worried look.

“Is everything okay, meh?” Tora asked with concern.

“I- uhh…” Mythra began. “It’s just that-” she got cut off before she could continue.

“Everyone! I thought you should know!” someone called out. Mythra and Tora turned to see it was Obrona, covered in warm clothes and wading through the snow to get to the group working at the engines or just huddling around to get some cover from the blizzard. “Oh, hey Mythra!” she called out and waved, to which Mythra waved back but still held a worried look on her face. “So the good news is the computer systems are almost fully operational again. Poppi was real good help in getting everything sorted.” Tora smiled proudly at the compliments to his droid companion. “But the bad news…” Obrona began.

“The Empire’s here,” Mythra finished. She didn’t phrase it like a question, because she had no doubt about it. It wasn’t even that mind-blowing of a statement, bad news usually meant Empire.

“Spot on,” Obrona responded. “Our contacts up on the moon says they’re here, making themselves right at home in the capital and most likely buttering up the king.”

“If by buttering up you mean threatening his life, yeah that’s probably what they’re doing,” Mythra said. She felt herself pulling a frown, couldn’t help but be frustrated. How had the Empire found them out there? This system wasn’t exactly a metropolis. Maybe someone had been spying on their spies. “How much time you reckon we got?”

“With the delay in signals passing through this atmosphere…” Obrona calculated in her head. “Let’s just say it doesn’t matter. They’re probably breaching atmosphere soon. We have to pack up right now if we are to get away in time before they find our exact location.”

“Then let’s get our asses moving,” Mythra shouted out to everyone in the vicinity.

…

[Tantal, moon of Genbu]

The star destroyer hovered in the air, placing itself as a mark on the horizon for miles upon end, impossible to ignore. This system may be remote but the Empire’s grasp was galaxy-wide, and the destroyer served as a reminder that there was no hiding from the Empire. The citizens of Tantal understood that, now the rebels simply needed a reminder.

Under most circumstances, the star destroyer would’ve headed straight for the presumed rebel position and preferably bombarded it from orbit. But the atmosphere of Genbu hid the rebels well, and so it had been figured the moon of Tantal would hold onto some technology the Empire could make use of. After all, everyone had to do their part in rooting out the rebel pestilence, and the citizens of the galaxy should be more than happy to provide whatever the Empire demands. Besides, Darth Jin wanted a personal audience with the king, to ensure he knew where his loyalties were placed.

The imperial shuttle flew through the skies and aimed for the capital. From within the shuttle, the vast landscape of the moon was visible, but Jin could not care less for it. The towering mountains and large sprawling fields that filled the valleys and ancient calderas. The lightest touch of powdery snow, covering the otherwise blueish green landscape in white spots. Crystals that rose up from the ground, that would shine with pale green light during the dark hours of the night. All Darth Jin had eyes for was the city where the king would be found.

Theosoir, the capital city of Tantal, and the system as a whole. Built on top of a spire rising up from a massive crater valley, perhaps the long dormant remains of an ancient volcano. The shuttle flew over the city and landed down in the center of a market square, forcing some locals to run out of the way. The shuttle opened its boarding ramp and Darth Jin stepped out, followed by several stormtroopers. Although quite the crowd had gathered to witness the arriving imperials, they all quickly made way for the Sith lord. Darth Jin marched straight ahead, towards the royal palace. The palace was constructed of the same grey-hued marble as the rest of the city, and little other than its height compared to the surrounding buildings gave it away as a royal residence. All the buildings of Theosoir was built into each other, mending together the whole city. Darth Jin walked unopposed up the stairs to Theoscaldia palace, where the king awaited him.

As Jin entered the great hall of the throne room, at the end he saw the king of Tantal sitting in his chair. The king attempted to appear calm and regal, but Jin could sense how much fear reeked of him. The white-clothed royal guards stood along the length of the walls, and although in principle they were ready to act at a moments notice, Darth Jin could feel how terrified the guards were too. Fear was all the entirety of the moon was filled with. Jin approached the throne before finally stopping before the king, his heavy breathing filling the otherwise silent room for a few moments, before he spoke up.

“King Eulogimenos,” he began. “It is good to see how welcoming you are of the Empire.” That was not a compliment. Jin was simply throwing the king a bone, a chance to prove he wanted the rebels gone as much as Jin did.

“Lord Jin,” Eulogimenos responded. “Tantal is well aware of who its friends are.” The king presented himself calmly and with a welcoming tone, yet the hint of nervousness lingered in the back of his throat. King Eulogimenos wore heavy cloth attire, in correspondence with the climate. Tantal wasn’t as bitterly cold as the planet it orbited, but it could still sting without proper clothing. The royal robes were shades of brown and beige, decorated with fur and golden ornaments, as were the boots and gloves of the king. Eulogimenos himself had a golden tint to his skin, auburn hair and beard, and a golden crown fashioned like antlers around his head.

“If Tantal is so aware, then why haven’t they informed imperial intelligence of the rebel presence on Genbu? Surely you know the price to pay for willingly sheltering rebels.” Jin pressed the matter immediately, and it got a reaction out of Eulogimenos. The king visibly grew more concerned and seemed to flinch at Jin’s statements.

“Erm, w-well, the thing is…” the king stuttered out. Jin could feel his fear rising, sense his breathing become ever so slightly more panicked. “W-we did not think they were of any significance, you see. There may only be a few personnel down there, surely something so minor wouldn’t warrant your attention of all people, lord Jin.”

A valid question. Why would Darth Jin trouble himself with a remote place like this with only a minimal rebel presence?

“I am here because rebellion must be crushed wherever it festers,” Jin answered. “And enforcing the will of the Empire is my duty.” Jin was growing tired of this conversation, he was already angry at the king for having allowed the rebels to stay on Genbu even when he seemingly knew of it. “And you’ll do well to remember that, your majesty.”

Stretching out his hand, Jin lifted the king up with the Force and began choking him. The fear that had gathered inside now became obvious on the Eulogimenos’ face as his breath escaped him. Immediately, the royal guards readied their weapons, pointing vibro-spears at Jin and his stormtroopers. Audible gasps could be heard from the masses of people that had gathered just outside the entrance, their struggling king visible to all as he hung up in the air. Even choking, it seemed Eulogimenos had a degree of sense to himself.

“S- ack, sta-and.. grn… d-down!” he said in between choking breaths, waving one hand towards his guards. “Stand down!” he repeated, voice coarse but audible enough.

Confused but still complying with orders, the guards did as commanded as they gave each other puzzled looks. Taking the order as a plead for mercy and willingness to comply, Jin let go of the king. Eulogimenos dropped to the floor as his breath returned to him. Jin marched up and stood over the bent-over king as he gasped to get air back into his lungs.

“You will provide us with whatever deemed necessary to remove the rebel presence from Genbu,” Jin commanded. “I do believe that if anyone has military technology adapted to the atmosphere of the frozen planet, it would be Tantal.”

A few more gasps before the king answered. “Yes… Lord Jin.”

“And one more thing,” Jin said. He then suddenly turned around and faced the crowd of people standing outside the palace entrance, immediately eyeing down his target. Not wasting a moment, Jin stretched his hand out and pulled with the Force. Before anyone in the crowd could even react, one individual was jerked out and pulled towards Jin by the throat. After a moment the man was suspended mid-air right before Jin.

“Try to keep a better eye on your subjects from now on,” Jin said to Eulogimenos as the king got to his feet again. “This rebel informant had to be sniffed out by one of our own. If he hadn’t told us in time,” Jin turned his head to look at the king, his expressionless mask still filling the heart of Eulogimenos with terror. “Then our meeting may not have gone as smoothly as it did today.”

Eulogimenos was simply too stunned to respond properly. The thought of imperial informants amongst his own people, in the capital no less. It seems there was no avoiding the Empire.

“Hrng… You’re… too… late,” the rebel informant managed to say between choked gasps. “I’ve already… alerted the… *gasp*, the g-garri…-son of your presence.”

“And you believe they’ll escape, is that it?” Jin tauntingly responded. “You rebel scum would rather stand and fight and be destroyed. And I shall grant your wish.” Jin released his Force grasp and the rebel dropped to the floor, stormtroopers quickly seizing hold of him. “Now, King Eulogimenos,” Darth Jin said as he turned around, facing the king again. “What will Tantal provide the Empire with to root out this rebel pestilence?” It wasn’t really a question as much as an order to show what specialized technology Tantal possessed.

“There is…” Eulogimenos began. “Perhaps one thing that might be of interest to you, my lord.”

Letting the king lead the way, Darth Jin followed Eulogimenos into the deep bowels of the palace. Finally, after a long descent, they reached a large, spherical room. And in the center stood the gift Tantal would give to the Empire. A huge cannon.

“This is an ether accelerator,” the king informed. “Designed to draw upon the atmosphere of Genbu and release it in a concentrated energy blast. Similar to how a blaster would use tibanna gas, the accelerator uses the abundant amount of ether that forms during the winters of Genbu. This, in turn, limits how and when and where the weapon could be used. We unfortunately haven’t found any way to store the ether for a longer period of time or in different forms, but I’m sure you’re more than content with what I offer, lord Jin.”

“It will have to do,” Darth Jin responded. As he turned around and left the room, an officer followed him and laid out a plan.

“We’ll have to breach atmosphere with the destroyer if we are to locate the rebel position with our radars,” the officer began. “From there we can deploy TIEs to harass the rebels in the air, though it won’t be long before the atmospheric interference starts shutting down their computer systems. The star destroyer might last an hour. The rebels will undoubtedly attempt to flee on a transport ship, we can use the cannon to neutralize it entirely.”

“Our intel told us Mythra Origo of Torna would be among the rebels. Ideally, I want her alive.” Jin was firm in his commands.

“And, if she cannot be captured?” the officer asked.

“Then I want her termination confirmed.”

…

[Genbu, rebel base]

Knowing there was no time to lose, the pilots rushed through the snow and to their fighters. Every second wasted was one the Empire could use to locate their position. When Mythra first arrived, it had only taken the transport ship a few minutes to locate the base. A star destroyer wouldn’t take any longer.

X-wings and Y-wings lifted themselves up and flew out of the cavern where they had stood parked, out into the roaring blizzard. Several fighters had to be left behind, their systems fried beyond saving, but most of them were still functional, thank the stars.

“This is Brass Leader, all wings report in.” The leader of the fighter squadron made the roll-call announcement, but only received garbled and messed up responses. Only a few words could be deciphered through the mess on the commlink. “Alright, alright, I’ll just assume you’re here. Transport, do you read me?”

On the bridge of the transport ship, the captain responded to the squad leader. “We hear you Brass Leader, just barely though. Just remember your objective: keep the air clear of TIEs. If they tag on our transport and transmit the info to the star destroyer, we won’t be able to hide in the blizzard. Just keep em’ off our tail until we’ve left the planet.”

“Are we sure now is a good time to lift-off?” Mythra gingerly asked, getting only a puzzled look from the captain.

“Princess, I’m not sure if any other time would be better than now,” the captain responded in a deadpan tone.

“Friend Mythra worried of something?” Tora asked, his interest piqued.

“It’s just that…” Mythra began, trying to think of a way to explain herself. She couldn’t just blurt out she had a magical vision of the transport blowing up, she had to be more careful and sound trustworthy. “Would the Empire really only rely on maybe finding us using TIEs? What if they have something that can track us through the storm, maybe installed on the star destroyer or something.”

“I get that you’re concerned,” the captain responded. “But we can’t live in fear of what ifs. We need to get off this planet ASAP, and we can’t do that if we stay grounded based on the hunch that they may be tracking us despite atmospheric interference.”

“It could be a more genuine possibility than you think,” Obrona spoke up from behind Mythra. “Why would the Empire drop by Tantal first, and then attack us here? They’re not one to care for the local middleman, they’d rather just attack us immediately. They wanted something from Tantal.”

“Friend Obrona right!” Tora chimed in. “Maybe imperials demanded specialized technology, and had star destroyer equipped with anti-Genbu-atmosphere systems!”

“Dank ferrik, so we’re supposed to just stay here?” the captain asked around in a frustrated tone.

“Transport, this is Brass Three, do you read me?” a fighter called over the intercom. The radio interference was harsh, but whole sentences came through, which was a plus.

“We read you Brass Three, what’s the situation?” the captain responded.

“I’m getting massive energy readings on my systems, something’s not right here.” The pilot sounded concerned, and Mythra had an idea of what he was reading. “I know it’s not from my own ship, it’s gotta be something the imperials have. I’ll try following the signal.”

“Be careful soldier, don’t waltz into the sarlacc’s mouth,” the captain warned. A man who cared for those under his command, yet willing to let them take risks for the greater good.

“I’m getting close, I’ll have to fly low,” Brass Three informed. “I think I see it. It’s… It’s a… oh my stars and stripes…”

“What is it, what do you see?” Mythra called out, eager yet also a bit scared.

“It’s a cannon, on legs. Some type of walker cannon thing,” Brass Three informed. “I only got a glimpse, but it doesn’t seem bothered the least by the blizzard. In fact, it seemed to draw energy from the blizzard. This could be bad news for us.”

Mythra could see the captain was becoming more frustrated at the situation, gritting his teeth. “Y-wings, try going in for a bombing run on that cannon, we can’t take off with it still active.”

“No can do, cap’n,” another pilot responded over the intercom, gunner fire vaguely heard in the background. “That thing’s got TIE cover from every angle.”

“Heads up, transport,” a third pilot said. “Saw an imperial landing craft headed for the underpass, most likely packing with troopers.”

“They’re trying to flush us out,” Mythra noted. “Force us to take off.”

“The imps can kiss my twin suns if they think I’m letting them have this victory,” the captain said. Behind his visibly furious face, a plan was brewing. “We need every blaster at the entrance to the underpass, trap the coming troopers in a bottleneck and give em hell. Try detaching the fuel tanks from the broken fighters, they’ll make good incendiary bombs. Droid.” The captain turned to Poppi. “If we can get you to the cannon, can you shut down its systems?”

“Maybe,” Poppi responded, pondering a few moments. “Poppi can guaranteed do some damage to big gun, and make way for transport safe.”

“Good,” the captain responded. “We have three working speeders; each can fit two people. We’ll need five good men to get this droid to the cannon so it can be shut down, all the while holding our ground here against the coming troopers.”

“I volunteer,” Mythra raised her hand. The captain gave her a quick glance, going from surprise, to bewilderment, to worrying, to confidence all in a mere moment.

“Good, that’s one down.”

…

“EVERYONE! TO YOUR POSITIONS!”

The lack of swearing emphasized the dire situation. People running back and forth, not letting any snowfall hinder them. Soldiers and anyone who could hold a blaster all entrenching themselves around entrances to the underpass that led from their little valley and out to the vast open snowfields beyond. The shape of the cavern making up the underpass gave them the high ground, but not by much. Empty boxes and crates had been piled up around the entrance, some of them filled with snow for good measure, anything to fortify their position. Those who hadn’t been handed blasters were running back and forth from the transport, carrying additional ammo and the like for the soldiers.

As for Mythra, she sat ready on one of the speeders, with Poppi behind her. The two other speeders each had two other soldiers on board. They were waiting for the signal to swoop straight past the imperials and straight for the cannon. They just needed to head forward in a straight line.

As the running died down and the howling of the snowstorm became the only sound in the valley, it felt like time had also frozen along with everything else on this planet. Maybe it was just a few moments, but it felt bitterly long. They all stood there, waiting for blaster bolts to fill the cave.

And then the first shots were fired. And readily answered. From inside the cave, snowtroopers specialized for the cold weather fired at the rebel soldiers, who fired right back at them. That was Mythra’s signal.

In an instant, she and the rest of her group turned their speeders from standby to full throttle. Zooming right past the rebel soldiers and into the chaos of the cave. Although the faces of the snowtroopers were concealed behind their helmets, Mythra had no doubt there was a bewildered look beneath them. Good, that meant the element of surprise worked. The trio swooped past all the troopers, mowing down some who didn’t get out of the way. Mythra heard explosions behind her, meaning the rebels had taken the opportunity to light up the fuel tanks, blowing them up as the troopers were briefly confused. But this opening gambit was the only ace the rebels had. Now it was just down to sheer stamina and willpower, a war of attrition for the opening to the underpass. The quicker Mythra and the gang could disable that cannon, the quicker they could get back and support the others and escape the planet.

If Mythra thought the weather was bad inside the little valley, then it was a hundred times worse when they exited the underpass cave. Mythra had prepared beforehand by wearing her heavy snowcoat, pulling up the hood, and with snow goggles and a thick scarf around her face. But the cold winds on the open fields still felt biting all the same. Everything was a vast, open, featureless wall of white. The endless expanse of snow-covered fields and blinding blizzard removed any hint of a horizon. They were just charging into it, hoping a straight line forward would lead them to the cannon. Mythra was just hoping Poppi was insulated enough to keep out the cold and that her circuits wouldn’t freeze over.

With how padded down her head was, and with the roar of the blizzard, Mythra was amazed she still heard traces of aerial battle in the shrouded skies above. The roar of TIE fighters, and the sounds of ships exploding and crashing nearby as the speeders zoomed past.

After not too long, a dark shape appeared in the mists of the snow, and the distance closed quickly. Their eyes now on the cannon brought by the imperials, they all brought the speeders to a halt, and Mythra was able to take it all in.

The pilot that had first identified the cannon said it was on legs like a walker, and that seemed about right. The legs were that of an old AT-TE walker, one that had been used by the old Republic during the Clone Wars. It wasn’t much more than the legs and the base skeletal structure of the walker, though. None of the guns or cannons of the old walker were present. Instead, placed flat on top of the walker’s back, a large platform-like structure and the giant cannon on top. It was huge, lines of advanced circuitry visible along the edges, seemingly pumping energy like blood through veins. The head of the cannon split into two, like a pair of tusks pointing forward to wherever the cannon was aiming. And in between the tusks, a large gathering of energy was building, drawing upon the very air surrounding it. Specialized technology, no doubt about it.

As soon as Mythra finished aweing at the cannon and got her bearings back, she instantly dodged away from blaster bolts. Snowtroopers, both on the ground and on top of the platform, providing an escort and manpower for the cannon. Getting down from her speeder and grabbing hold of her blaster, Mythra made sure to drag Poppi down as well.

“Just stay close to me,” Mythra said to the droid. Keeping her safe was of vital importance right now, they needed her to sabotage the cannon systems. If they could redirect it towards the star destroyer hovering somewhere above, that would be perfect.

“Roger roger, princess,” Poppi responded, heeding Mythra’s order and staying low and close.

Turning around to get a get a glance towards her six, Mythra saw two of other soldiers that had come with her gunning down snowtroopers on their side and moving forward. Turning forward again, Mythra moved swiftly whilst crouched down, making her way towards the underside of the walker, in-between the front legs. Moving towards the walker’s right side, Mythra saw how the two other rebel soldiers accompanying her were hiding from troopers behind the right front leg. Knowing the troopers that fired at them would try using the other legs as shelter, Mythra lifted up her blaster and took aim. Her firing at the snowtroopers brought just the amount of confusion to them she had wanted. Forced out of hiding by Mythra’s shots, the remaining snowtroopers were picked off by her comrades, until the walker was surrounded by bodies.

But the imperials weren’t entirely stupid, there were still blaster bolts raining down on them from the platform on top of the walker. Having to take shelter under the walker, the whole group gathered around Mythra.

“How’re we gonna get up this thing?” Mythra asked one of the soldiers.

“There’s one ladder on the right side,” one of the soldiers responded. “But they’ll be expecting us to use that, so they’ll point all blasters right at it.”

“I brought grenades in case we needed em,” a female soldier shot in. “We can lob one up and knock em all out cold.”

“They’ll shoot you before you can throw it up, or they’ll just kick it off back into your face,” a third soldier said in a gruff voice.

“How many did you bring?” Mythra asked. “Maybe we can destabilize the legs of this thing.”

“Negative,” Poppi answered first. “Reinforced armoring of walker legs too strong for ordinary thermal detonator to provide sustainable damage.”

Damn, shoulda figured. The cannon was huge, only made sense the walker legs be reinforced with extra power. But Mythra’s mind got to work, and she came up with another plan. “What if just throw some up in the air where they can explode? It’ll draw the attention of the troopers for long enough to take em out.” Hopefully.

Just in that moment, the sound of hydraulics and machinery above brought panic into everyone. The troopers up top were making the walker sit down, aiming to squash the rebels underneath.

“No time to think let’s just do it!” the female soldier said as if it was all one word. Without a moment’s notice, she shoved a grenade into Mythra’s hands before activating one in her own. She instantly started crawling towards the left side of the walker, and Mythra wasted no time in crawling towards the right side. Most of the group and Poppi followed Mythra, with one other following the female soldier towards the left. The walker was slow to push itself down, but it still wouldn’t need much time to smother them into the snow.

She made it out in the nick of time, as did the rest of the group. With the walker temporarily crouched down like that, getting a grenade up would be even easier. She threw the ticking bomb high into the air, and at its apex it blew up, a fiery explosion lighting up the blizzard.

Mythra heard the bomb blow up and seized the moment. She had already activated the grenade halfway out from under the walker, and now tossed it onto the high platform. The following explosion was accompanied by screams, heard even through the blizzard.

“Now’s our chance, go, go!” Mythra shouted to her comrades as they began climbing the ladder leading to the top. Mythra made sure keep Poppi behind her even when climbing up, the droid was vital to the mission and she didn’t want it exposed on an active battleground.

As the group made their way onto the platform, they were bombarded with blaster fire from surviving snowtroopers hiding behind the base of the large cannon. The main control panel of the cannon was on an elevated seat at the cannon’s rear, the seat now empty and right in the middle between the two parties. The troopers were relentless in their defense of the cannon. Even though it was the only way up, Mythra’s group had still jumped headfirst into a bottleneck. The grenade had given them a moment, but it hadn’t gotten rid of all the troopers. That would’ve been too easy.

The whole shootout had devolved into someone occasionally popping their head out from the cover of the cannon base and firing towards the others, only to dodge in the last minute from a counter shot. But it didn’t seem like anyone was making progress. Mythra’s mind wandered to the TIEs and X-wings dueling in the blizzard, and the rebels and snowtroopers fighting fiercely for the underpass. They had to get this cannon disabled. If not, the Imperials would eventually overwhelm the rebels. It was now or never.

“I’ll go around the cannon and flank em,” one of the soldiers exclaimed, before rushing for the far end of the cannon base. It didn’t take even a moment before he reached the other end and was gunned down immediately.

“Look out!” Mythra shouted to the others, bringing their attention to the snowtroopers that came around the other side. They had thought of the exact same flanking maneuver, acting upon it the tiniest of seconds quicker, and with multiple troopers at once.

The diverted attention was just the distraction the troopers had hoped it was. Seizing the moment, some of the them rushed out from their hiding spot and ran towards the rebels.

By now there was only a handful of snowtroopers, perhaps only three or so, but they still managed to gun down another rebel soldier. Mythra felt panic rising in her mind, yet at the same time she felt alarmingly calm in the situation. She felt her blaster simply aiming and firing, almost automatically, to where the snowtroopers stood just moments before they were there. She dodged their blaster bolts before they had even been fired.

It was over in a flash. The troopers were down for the count. Mythra simply leaped forward towards the rear of the cannon base. As she turned the corner and looked up towards the seat of the control panel, she momentarily locked eyes with one last snowtrooper before he brought his blaster down hard on the panel. Sparks flew and Mythra fired, but the damage had been done. Climbing the steps Mythra glanced at the wrecked control panel, faith practically leaking out of her like a spilled glass.

“Poppi! Get up here! Quick!” Mythra shouted, and the droid wasted no time. The control panel was destroyed but maybe something could still be done. “Can you work with this? Is there anything you can do?”

“Hmmm…” Poppi pondered for a few moments. “Broken interface no problem for Poppi!” The advanced protocol droid’s proclamation brought a degree of hope back to Mythra. Poppi pulled out an adapter and attached herself to a plug in the computer frame.

“Oohhh, Tantalese have quite different systems installed,” Poppi pointed out as she dug through the files.

“But can you shut off the cannon?” Mythra asked, urgency in her voice.

A few more moments of silence, before Poppi answered. “Negative, princess. Systems took too much damage from bashing. Cannon is also too far into charge phase, shutting off would be impossible either way.”

“So we can’t stop it,” one of the other rebel soldiers chimed in. “But can we fire it? Point that sucker at the star destroyer the imps came in?”

“Negative,” Poppi said again. “Cannon mobility too limited, and designated firing area already locked in. Will fire upon rebel transport as soon as ship leave valley.”

“Maybe…” the same soldier said, a train of through forming. “Maybe we can fire it prematurely! Make it fire at nothing!”

“Poppi can do! Recalibrating…” Mythra finally felt a certain feeling of joy and victory. Firing the cannon now would render it useless, and the transport could escape freely. “New target locked,” Poppi informed. “Commencing firing sequence.”

“Alright Poppi, plug out,” Mythra said as she pulled on the droid and started ushering it down. “Let’s get out of here before this thing blows.”

Sure enough, the buzzing sounds of vibrating energy formed in the fangs of the cannon intensified. It was channeling up all the energy it had gathered from the atmosphere and preparing to release it back, all at once. It wouldn’t be long now.

“I’m sending back a message that the cannon’s been taken care of,” one of the soldiers said.

As they made their way off the platform and climbing down the ladder, Mythra could hear the machinery and hydraulics in the cannon slowly changing its angle, ever so slightly locking in on its new target.

“Say, Poppi,” Mythra found herself asking as she ushered the droid down the ladder into the snow. “Where exactly did you point the thing towards?”

“Poppi aimed cannon towards mountain wall,” the droid responded. “Should do zero damage to rebel transport.”

Hopefully the cannon wouldn’t blast straight through the mountain.

The group ran towards their speeders, quickly dusting off the accumulated snow. Mythra got on hers with Poppi finding her seat behind, and they started zooming their way back to base. It felt almost gut-wrenching knowing why they had to leave one of the speeders behind, but those two would not have died in vain.

For a brief moment, the only sounds were the roar of the blizzard and the engines of the speeders. Then a deafening roar-like explosion filled the area. Mythra felt it rush through her body, and it even shook the snow on the ground and knocked away particles in the air. The cannon had fired. Out of the corner of her eye, Mythra saw a massive energy blast fly through the air, obscured by the blizzard but its green-blueish light still visible. Not long afterwards, another deafening sound roared across the snowplains. The sound of energy blasts impacting on rock, and what sounded like a hiss as the energy returned to the atmosphere again. Rumblings of stones falling and the ground shaking echoed through the snowstorm. It was as if the blast had calmed the blizzard itself, for it seemed like it was thinning out, albeit only slightly. Mythra started to see the contours of the mountain wall as she approached it on her speeder, and also felt how the rumblings in the ground just grew worse. Had the cannon blast triggered a groundquake?

As the ground suddenly felt a lot more elevated than before, Mythra started to worry. Then she realized the ground wasn’t elevated, it was elevating! The ground was rising up! More rumbling noises echoed through the air, and this time it didn’t sound like just rocks falling over.

“What the hell is going on?” Mythra found herself wondering her she had to maneuver around suddenly erupting rock pillars rising as the ground moved beneath them, along with boulders rolling down the mountainsides and down on her.

She saw the imperial landing crafts just as a mass of debris fell from nowhere and crushed them. Quickly speeding past the wreckages, Mythra felt grateful to see the cavern and underpass hadn’t collapsed yet, but it was certainly on the brink. In fact, it was so close, that it was slowly changing from an underpass to simply a pass, with the roof collapsing down in huge chunks in some places. But there wasn’t any time to think about that now, they just had to get through.

In a mere moment they were out of the cave and back into the valley where the rebels had set up camp. They didn’t stop there, they continued flying the speeders towards the transport ship, its engines activated and ready for take-off. Mythra only got a brief glance, but she saw corpses of both snowtroopers and rebel soldiers in the snow. Seems like the bottleneck hadn’t held indefinitely, but still long enough. But the valley was collapsing, there was no time to linger to mourn the dead here.

Sure enough, as Mythra closed the gap with the transport, she saw Tora standing on the boarding ramp, waving and shouting to them. When they were just a few steps away, Mythra brought the speeder to a screeching halt and threw herself off towards the boarding ramp, quickly followed by Poppi and the other two soldiers.

“Oh Poppi! And princess!” Tora excitedly called out to them. “Tora knew you’d come back!” It was sweet, but they were all in a hurry. As Mythra and the others ran onboard, one guy stood at the ready to bring the ramp up, before shouting into a commlink for the ship to take off immediately

“What in world did friends do out there?” Tora asked as Mythra and the others slowly caught their breath again and felt the ship rise up from the ground. And sure enough, Tora asked a valid question. Just what was going on out there? Was all this truly the work of the cannon? Could it really be that powerful?

“I don’t know what we did but the faster we get outta here the better,” Mythra responded.

Mythra made her way up to the bridge of the transport, followed by Tora and Poppi. She stepped next to a window to get a better view of the outside. Maybe a form of morbid curiosity was drawing her towards wanting to see whatever collapse was happening in the valley. The blizzard had notably calmed down by now, and range of visibility went a lot further now. She’d be able to see everything without snow obscuring the view. She just hoped the storm would still be raging in higher altitudes to cover their escape. Sure enough, from the window of the transport Mythra saw the valley collapse in on itself as the mountains shook off snow and rock alike. When the mountain itself started to visibly rise more and more, Mythra’s bewilderment only grew. By now they were hovering well above the mountain itself, and as more shapes emerged from the ground far below, Mythra finally started to put the pieces together.

Legs. Colossal legs of unimaginable strength, tearing themselves loose from the ground. Up until now, they could’ve been ridges or protruding cliffs, but their motion revealed their true nature. And as the transport turned as it ascended into the air, Mythra saw a massive head emerge from the rock and snow.

They had awoken a living creature from a deep slumber. A creature with a mountain on its back, dug into the ground and rock and extending a mountain range with its mere presence. Since she was far above ground, there was no way she could be certain, but Mythra just knew each step this creature took would shake the ground and could be felt for miles. The mountain moved as the titanic creature began slowly walking. The natural disaster left in the wake of its awakening of no concern to it.

Mythra hadn’t realized it until now, but everyone else on board the bridge was in equal amounts of awe as she herself was. This giant in the ice was truly a sight to behold, even if it would be only a short moment. As the transport rose higher and higher and the weak snowstorm eventually began obscuring the view again, Mythra heard everyone mumbling between themselves. Smalltalk about this titan they had all seen.

“I just wanted you to shut off the cannon,” the captain chuckled as he strolled over to Mythra. “Not invite this mountain turtle to the party. What sort of titan even is that?” The captain put to word what everyone else were wondering.

As if on que, Poppi showcased her encyclopedic knowledge by answering the question.

“Creature is known as a Genbuian,” Poppi readily informed. “Large creatures native to Genbu with partial geologic structure to body mass. Known to enter long hibernation periods, especially during warm summers of Genbu. Wanders about more often during winters but still slumbers for decades at a time. They are primary reshapers of surface geography of Genbu. Estimates puts planetary population in the tens of thousands.”

The captain simply nodded with a mild fascination as Poppi laid out all the info. Mythra swore she heard someone mumble a question about how those things bred.

“Well, we’ll leave that thing to its own devices,” the captain said, looking about the bridge to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “Brass Squadron, we’re making a run for it. I suggest you do the same. If we’re fast the imps won’t be able to follow us in time.”

“Roger that, captain,” someone from Brass Squadron responded over the intercom, the signal was less garbled than before but still not perfect.

The visibility from out the bridge was nonexistent, they were high enough for clouds and snow to completely cover up everything again. Their devices showed a consistently increasing altitude level, Mythra was just holding her breath hoping the star destroyer didn’t surprise them on the way out.

The ship kept rising through the clouds, higher, higher, ever upwards. Until finally, just like that, the cloud cover was gone. The rebel transport was quick to breach the atmosphere, any remnants of snow quickly melting away in the process. Vague hints of turbulence confirmed they were leaving the planet behind well and truly. Soon afterwards, several X-wings and Y-wings flew past the bridge of the transport. But not many.

“This is Brass Two,” they were relayed over the radio systems. “We took some serious losses down there. Our systems were constantly harried by the atmosphere. The strain became too much for a lot of us. And the TIEs picked off the weakest. We weren’t able to properly communicate either. I’m afraid what you see here is all that’s left.”

“Copy that, Brass Two,” the captain responded. A grim expression formed on his face as he looked upon the fighters in space. Just barely one third was left of Brass Squadron. “Add to our logs that Genbu is not a suitable safe world, based on how it devastates computer systems. And I reckon the moon Tantal is off limits now too.”

Mythra looked out of the window again and saw the moon visible in the distance. She was just hoping any remaining assets they had on that moon could make it off-world on their own.

“Set course for hyperspace, we’re getting outta here,” the captain commanded.

As the transport and the fighters fled away from the Empire and into hyperspace, Obrona took the opportunity to approach Mythra, a data pad in hand.

“Mythra, you got a moment?” she asked, to which Mythra nodded. “I’ve been digging around Imperial systems. Caught up transmission signals, gotten word of the movement of people and ships. Where they’re going, where they might be disappearing into. I’ve been comparing results and assumptions and likelihoods, and…”

“And, what?” Mythra asked, feeling herself tense at the expected answer.

“And I think I know where to the Empire is rounding up survivors of Torna.”

…

[Darth Jin’s star destroyer]

The commander fell limp on the floor, his face almost blue. A pair of troopers picked up his arms and started dragging his corpse away.

The price for failure. Useless. Incompetent fools.

“Captain,” Darth Jin said to the newly promoted man. “Have a shuttle prepared for me. I will be returning to Kuat to oversee the final stages of the construction of the Executor.”

“Yes Lord Jin,” the captain nodded. “What else will you have us do?”

“See to it that the rebels don’t come back,” Jin commanded. “I want all rebel activity in the Alrest Cluster eliminated! And make sure the planetary leaders know the Empire does not take kindly to any further delays of information regarding rebel whereabouts.”

…

Chapter Text

It was hard to breathe. This artificial atmosphere was clearly kept to the bare minimum. Just as well anyway, the air would normalize once they got inside. Good to see the level of intellect those damned imperials had was also at rock bottom. One brief, claustrophobic trip from point A to point B, then the real part of the mission could begin. The hard part. And he came to think of those words he had said to his crew just before they had landed.

“For Torna.”

…

[Flotilla of rebel ships, somewhere in space]

Mythra strode through the halls of the Mon Cala cruiser. Uncertainty. That was the impression she had gotten from the Alliance leadership after she proposed her mission. Obrona’s calculations had never been wrong before, there was no reason to think they’d be now. They had a location, to where the Empire was rounding up surviving Tornans and keeping them imprisoned. But for how long? How long until they got shipped off someplace else? Sold to slavery, given to mad scientists to experiment upon, or just outright killed? The Empire had destroyed Torna to make an example to the galaxy. Now they wanted to eradicate every remnant of her people to drive home the point. To her, saving them felt like duty, like true duty. It was her responsibility, as their princess. As a survivor. As a witness.

She hadn’t exactly gotten a “no” for her mission, they had just delayed giving an answer or clearance. But Mythra wasn’t having it. If the Alliance leadership wanted to talk themselves into a gridlock, then fine, old senator habits die hard. But Mythra was going to act. With whatever she could.

As she wandered into a lounge area, Mythra’s gaze scanned the room and landed on the people she had hoped the most to see.

“Nia!” she called out as she walked over to the smuggler captain. Nia Solo, and her partner in crime Dromarch. Although at first reluctant to join the Alliance, they were now fully integrated operatives, and very valuable assets. “Glad I found you.” Before she had gotten the chance to get drunk, that is.

“Oy princess,” Nia responded, giving her a wave and her typical cheerfully smug grin. “Heard you got in quite the pickle on your mission.”

“Yeah, I never wanna see an ice planet again,” Mythra shuddered as she thought of the bitter cold she had experienced. “But no time for chitchat, I need you two and the Falcon. It’s very important.”

“Certainly, we’d be happy to help,” Dromarch said in his polite tone. “What mission have you been assigned?”

“Let’s not use the word assigned just yet,” Mythra said, shaking her head at the mention of it. “But I need the Falcon because it can both fight and transport and get away quickly if need be. I’m launching a rescue mission of imprisoned Tornans.” Mythra saw Nia and Dromarch’s eyes widen at the reveal of her mission. Perhaps rightfully so, she was making a bold move just leaping into such a daring and important job. “I’m not gonna allow the Empire to erase the last of my people.”

“Well shit, sure, I’m in,” Nia said, getting up from her seat and standing next to Mythra. “But you sure the Falcon alone is enough?”

“It certainly is spacious,” Dromarch began. “But cramming in potentially hundreds of people would prove difficult.”

“Such an arrangement will not be necessary,” a deep, monotonous voice suddenly shot in. Mythra jumped a little at the sudden intrusion, turning around to see general Stirge looming over her. The navy blue super tactical droid stood with its arms clasped behind its back, flanked by none other than senator Bail Organa of Alderaan, dressed in his signature blue cloak.

“General, you’ve surprisingly stealthy for a droid,” Mythra noted. “Senator Organa, why are you here? You here to reject my mission to my face?” Bail Organa held high prestige within the Rebel Alliance, as one of its founding members. Mythra may have been a bit disrespectful to him just now, but her mind was far away from formalities at the moment.

“Actually, I’ve come to give you the green light,” Bail Organa responded. “The others, especially Dodonna and Vaspar, don’t think this is a good idea. I wouldn’t hear of it. Torna was a highly respected world, I will not allow the Empire to besmudge her legacy. And I know Dodonna doesn’t want you on the front lines…”

“With the absurdly high bounty on my head and stuff?” Mythra cut him off. “The Empire still found us way out at Genbu, it doesn’t matter. I won’t be kept away from the line of battle.”

“There’s that fire in your heart your father always complimented,” Bail Organa flashed a kind smile, but there was a sad gaze behind his eyes at the mention of Mythra’s father. “If I ever had a daughter, I wish she’d have been like you, princess. Yes, I know you want to fight, especially now that it’s for your people. And I will help you in that fight. I’ve talked with general Stirge about potential tactics.”

“If the location in the given coordinates is indeed an Imperial prison facility, then it will no doubt be heavily guarded,” Stirge began. “We will need a highly refined strategy for infiltration, extraction, and evacuation. Luckily, such complex and detailed battle strategies are what I was designed for.”

“Alright, clanker, what’s your strat?” Nia asked, crossing her arms in anticipation.

“You will be filled in on the way to the hangar, there is no need to linger here.” Without waiting for a response, Stirge simply began walking. Mythra and the others made sure to quickly follow, leaving the lounge area and making their way towards the large hangar where the Millennium Falcon stood.

“At senator Organa’s command, at strike team is being assembled,” Stirge began. “We have prepared for four larger ships and multiple squadrons of fighters to be utilized. In addition to the Millennium Falcon, those ships are two CR90 corvettes, as well as the Blade of Fire.” Stirge was throwing his own droid frigate into the mix, it seemed.

“Shouldn’t a prisoner extraction be a bit more stealthy?” Nia interrupted. “Y’know, instead of throwing whole warships at the thing?”

“If there was only a singular prisoner, yes,” Stirge responded. “But this is potentially thousands. We should assume that every single Tornan in the galaxy is currently either fighting for the Alliance or captured by the Empire. We’ll need large ships to extract them all, and large ships require defending. This will not be a stealth mission, it will be a precise strike on a fortified military complex. By my calculations, there is a 97% chance the prison facility will be protected by heavy turbolaser turrets. I also calculate an overwhelming possibility of at least one star destroyer. This is why coordination between attacks is key to achieving victory in this assault.”

Mythra felt almost happy this droid was outshining whatever plan she herself had laid. Just waltzing in with the Falcon wouldn’t be enough. As the group reached the main hangar, Mythra caught gaze of a large gathering of pilots and soldiers in front of the Millennium Falcon, among them familiar faces like Tora and Poppi, as well as Crossette, Akhos, and Obrona. She also caught sight of one particular brown-haired boy she hadn’t seen in a while.

“Rex!” she shouted as she ran towards him.

“Mythra!” Rex shouted back as he saw and walked towards her, followed by his ever-shadowing red-headed companion Pyra.

As they closed the gap, Mythra pulled the Skywalker lad into a brief hug before giving him his personal space back.

“It’s good to see you again, Rex,” Mythra said with a smile. “Been having any exciting adventures since last time we met?”

“Not sure if exciting is the word I’d use,” Rex chuckled, thinking of his rather unpleasant experience on Leftheria. “But who cares ‘bout that, we’ve got a new mission now.” The excitement and constant optimism on this guy felt contagious.

“All friends together again!” Tora exclaimed as he joined their group. Nia and Dromarch were also quick to join them. Mythra realized how right the Nopon was: she herself, Rex, Pyra, Tora, Poppi, Nia, Dromarch, they were all gathered here in the hangar. It hadn’t been since the evacuation of Yavin that they had all stood next to each other. Mythra felt a smile creep across her face.

“Lieutenant Skywalker will be of integral importance in this mission,” Stirge commented as he walked up to them. “His X-wing is to be equipped with neutralizing ion scatter bombs. If there is a star destroyer present, then he will immediately target and disable it.”

“And what then, we blow it to hell with your warship?” Nia asked.

“Negative, captain Solo,” the droid responded. “A destroyed destroyer could endanger the structural integrity of the prison facility. Such an outcome is undesirable before any prisoner extraction is made. Disabling it will render it harmless.”

“Until their backup power restarts their systems, that is,” Dromarch commented. “Although I assume you intend the mission to be completed before that.”

“Correct.” Stirge walked on towards the group of other pilots until he had everyone’s attention, then the droid laid out the rest of the details in the plan. “The assault will be spearheaded by the Millennium Falcon, closely followed by Skywalker’s X-wing. Immediately after disabling the star destroyer if present, the rest of the fleet will be set to disengage from hyperspace. At this point, the fighter squadrons will be tasked with eliminating any turbolaser turrets the prison facility is equipped with, as well as protecting the fleet from any TIE fighter sent out from the destroyer. We do not know if the prison facility is an orbiting station or a grounded structure, but either way the Millennium Falcon should find safe landing ground. From there, a strike team will disengage and make their way into the facility. If the possibility presents itself, so too will one of the corvettes deploy its own troops to reinforce the attackers. From that point onwards, the strike team will need to take matters into their own hands to find the best possible solutions for the desired outcome of maximum prisoner extraction.” Stirge took a moment to survey all the faces fixed upon him. The pilots, the soldiers, senator Organa, the heroes of Yavin. “Are we all clear on the mission?”

Everyone shared a few brief glances, mumbling between themselves, until one after another they all responded.

“Yes, general!” These weren’t just ragtag saboteurs anymore. They were real military soldiers, fighting for a proper cause they were ready to die for. Mythra knew the Empire would pay dearly for daring to threaten her people.

…

[somewhere in the Tamarin Sector]

The boarding ramp of the shuttle opened and the view of the boardwalk became visible. From its far end, the entrance door opened and out walked the prison warden flanked by two stormtroopers.

“Special Inquisitor!” the warden said in his booming, boisterous voice, full of faux charm and the charisma of a politician spewing fake promises during an election campaign. The warden had a grin on his face as fat as he himself was, holding his hands wide out into the air as if expecting a hug. Just the sight of him drove her sick to her stomach. “I must admit I had not expected someone of your status to come visit our humble installation.”

“Spare your formalities, warden Akros,” the Inquisitor responded, trying to keep the poison out of her tone. “We’re not here for simple pleasantries.” The Special Inquisitor walked straight past him without giving a second glance, shadowed by Brighid.

“Err… of course not,” the warden stammered as he hurried to catch up to her. “But it is still quite the honor that you would visit. What could possibly drive the Special Inquisitor herself to this remote corner of the galaxy? I assure you, we hold no Jedi.” The warden chuckled at his own attempt at humor.

“Not so remote anymore after the special privilege you’ve been given,” Brighid commented. “How many Tornans do you hold here, warden?”

Warden Akros made a more devious and sinister chuckle this time. “Just about all that are left,” he said, wicked satisfaction in his tone. “I feel like an aristocrat with an exotic zoo entourage. Who doesn’t love an endangered species in their collection? Though none of these have been put down and made into proper works of art, yet.”

“And I hope you can keep those urges contained,” the Inquisitor responded. “You are responsible for their well-being until further orders are issued on what to do with them. I’d wager slavery, and nobody wants to buy a damaged product.”

“Personally,” Brighid began. “I reckon donating them to science is a better alternative.”

As the doors leading into the facility opened, the warden took the lead. They passed through the entrance hallway from the dock, and the full spectacle became visible. Red light bathed the surroundings, irritatingly uneven in some places. Some lights dim and dark, others pale with bright light. Marching along the walkway, the Inquisitor glanced upwards, gazing for where the roof began. Looking down over the guard rails, she sought out the ground floor. Both seemed impossibly far away. In the center of the walkway, at the heart of the tower, a single control room stood. But a shut-in control room was no place to make a grand reveal, so the warden stopped and turned towards the Inquisitor and Brighid as he stood before the doorway.

“My ladies,” he began, raising his voice to let the echo be heard. “Welcome to ICF Deep Red Station.”

…

[Millennium Falcon, hyperspace]

“Come on, Foresight. Just give me something.” For the entirety of the trip, Mythra had sat in silence in the lounge area of the Falcon. Just one glimpse from her foresight vision of how things would go. A chance to change the future if need be. That was all she wanted. But her powers were silent, driving her further into a deep, quiet, frustration.

The Falcon was a lot more packed than usual. A lot of rebel soldiers on board, a whole proper strike team. The Falcon was cramped, and even though there would be some room for Tornans, the freighter was primarily designated for soldiers, whilst the corvettes would be better suited to carry the prisoners. Mythra looked about the place, gazing across all the personnel present. Everyone who would assist in storming the prison complex.

Mostly human soldiers, some aliens like Duros and Twi’lek. Tora and Poppi would also partake in the assault, as would Nia and Dromarch. There was also Crossette, who seemed to be a less anxious for entering battle than she had been before. Akhos would help in coordinating one of the corvette strike teams alongside senator Bail Organa, whilst Obrona stayed on the Blade of Fire alongside General Stirge and Admiral Newt. Someone who wouldn’t stay on the droid frigate would be the battle droids. One BX-series commando droid was part of the Falcon strike team. It didn’t do much during off-time, mostly just stood around and looked creepy. Everyone else had just taken to calling it Bee-Ex. Droid starfighters would also reinforce the other fighters of Red Squadron and Gray Squadron. The remains of Brass Squadron had also thrown their lot into the fight. Because the vulture droids didn’t have hyperdrives, they had to be carried by the frigate. Admiral Newt had insisted on finding a way to install hyperdrives onto them, but that was still a work in progress.

Stirge had been extremely precise on when everyone should enter and leave hyperspace. Managing such accurate coordination was probably only possible for a supercomputer on legs like he was. It wasn’t like everything would fall apart if one thing went awry, but Stirge had been reluctant to share his details of any plan B or C. Some had jokingly said between themselves that the droid was simply incapable to thinking outside of the initial plan, thinking outside the box. Personally, Mythra just assumed Stirge didn’t like discussing things that would imply his initial plan would fail. The droid wasn’t inflexible, just a bit egotistical.

“Princess?” Mythra had been so deep in her own thoughts she hadn’t noticed Tora walk up to her. “Is friend Mythra alright? Seemed bothered so Tora thought friend might want to talk.”

“Oh, um, thanks Tora,” Mythra responded, fumbling her words a bit. “I think I’m just a little nervous about the mission. This is the fate of my people, y’know. A lot is at stake.”

The Nopon extended a wing to pat Mythra gently on her leg, trying to comfort her. “Tora understand mission must be taking hard mental toll. But friend Mythra mustn’t lose hope! Yes, can feel sad and stressed and anxious about fate of people, but it is better to feel determined, and put one’s sight firmly onto victory!” Tora’s encouragement brought a smile across Mythra’s face. “Tora want princess to promise him one thing.”

“And what’s that?” Mythra giggled a bit, almost finding Tora cute as the little furball pulled a serious but cheerful face.

“Promise Tora you will not think of worst-case scenarios during mission, okay?” Tora extended a wing for Mythra to shake, a fiery look in his eyes and smile.

“Alright Tora,” Mythra said, her smile changing from one of being cheered up to one of battle-ready determination. “I promise.”

…

[Deep Red system]

The Millennium Falcon emerged from hyperspace, the spectacle that met them wasn’t much to behold. They had emerged close to the edge of the star system of a lonely red dwarf, its weak light barely making it visible. The scanners picked up only a few celestial bodies, mostly barren moons of a single gas giant. Most of the remaining mass in the system was dispersed across a wide asteroid belt.

Nia Solo scanned her vision across the featureless horizon of empty space.

“Dang, ain’t much here,” she noted. “Nice and remote enough for a prison I’d wager.”

“The prison complex should be the only life in this system,” Dromarch responded. “We’ll have to look for any signs of it. We’re still not sure what type of facility the prison is.”

“We’re picking up something big on the scanners,” Nia commented. “Dead ahead.”

Mythra entered the cockpit and leaned over Nia’s chair, curious to see what was outside. A few short moments of silence, then their target came into sight.

“It’s right there,” Nia said, a smirk that was both confident and nervous spreading across her face. “On that big asteroid there.”

And true enough, as the asteroid came into sight, so too did the prison facility. A tall, large tower, protruding up from the surface of the asteroid. Weak layers of dim colours, just barely distinguishable from the black of space, revealed a very thin atmosphere, guaranteed artificial. The silhouette of the massive tower and asteroid with the red dwarf in the back created a sense of eeriness, and the silhouette of the star destroyer hovering right by didn’t bring any comfort.

“There’s our boy,” Nia said, noting the destroyer. As if on que, the star destroyer sent a signal back to the Falcon.

“YT-series light freighter, you are in restricted territory, identify yourself immediately or be terminated.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure thing,” Nia said as she pushed the button to respond. Drawing a breath, quickly going through her long list of prepared answers for this situation, she found her choice and responded. “Lick me.”

In that same moment, Rex zoomed past in his X-wing, heading straight for the star destroyer. Insulted by the response, the star destroyer started firing away its turbolasers toward both the X-wing and the Falcon.

“Be careful out there, Rex,” Dromarch said over the intercom as Rex aggressively closed the distance between himself and the destroyer.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, Dromarch,” Rex responded, trying not to sound overconfident in his own abilities. “I’ve got this in the bag.”

Gracefully dodging away from turbolaser shots and inching ever closer to the destroyer, Rex gave power to the shielding priority in order to ensure a relatively safe ride.

“TIEs, coming in hot,” Pyra’s voice said from inside Rex’s head, bringing his awareness to more than just the turbolasers. There was only a handful of TIEs, but they were quickly getting into formation and readying to chase down Rex. But by now he was in perfect firing range for his own attack.

“This’ll knock em out good,” Rex commented as he pushed the button to drop the bomb carried by the X-wing. A scattering ion bomb hit the destroyer and its devastating effect was set into motion. Courtesy of Crossette, the ionizing effect spread out and disabled the entire vessel in mere moments. The star destroyer was left in dead motion, hovering helplessly in the zero gravity.

“WOOO!” Rex found himself cheering. “Crossette did you see that?” he asked to the Falcon over the intercom. “You’re a genius with those things.”

“Concentrate, Rex. We’re still in the thick of it,” Pyra commented, bringing Rex’s attention back to the pursuing TIE fighters.

Bringing his focus back on track, Rex immediately took to evasive manoeuvres to get away from the TIEs. With the star destroyer decommissioned, turbolasers from the prison facility had started firing instead. But Rex’s X-wing was small and nimble, and he was heading straight back to regroup with the Falcon.

“We should be getting reinforcements anytime soon,” Rex noted, thinking of Stirge’s careful planning. In the very next moment, Rex received a very reassuring message over the intercom.

“Good job out there, Rex.” The voice of the new leader of Red Squadron brought a smile to Rex’s face. There in front of him, Rex saw the rest of the fleet arrive, perfectly timed and everything. The fighters, the corvettes, and the frigate.

“This is admiral Newt of the Blade of Fire speaking,” she declared from the command bridge of the munificent-class frigate. “All units report in.”

“Red Squadron, reporting in.”

“Gray Squadron, at the ready.”

“Brass Squadron, ready for battle.”

“Bail Organa of the Golden Wind, reporting.”

“Captain Perun of the White Lance, ready.”

“The Millennium Falcon is here too,” Nia shot in for good measure.

“Red Squadron, clear away the turbolasers on the prison,” Newt ordered. “Make sure we can get troops down there safely. “Gray Squadron, Brass Squadron, defend the fleet from engaging TIE fighters. Stirge, deploy the vulture droids, keep the hyenas in reserve.”

Swooping out from the hangars of the munificent, six droid starfighters flew out and quickly grouped up with the remnants of Brass Squadron, bolstering the squadrons ranks.

In turn, the imperials responded by having TIE fighters pour out en masse from the hangars of the star destroyer. The capital ship was disabled, but its fighters could still deploy themselves, and that was pretty much the only thing the destroyer could do to defend itself now.

A moment passed, and then the fighters of both sides were on each other, engaging in dogfights as they flew all over the place. Rex, along with two other fighters from Red Squadron, made a swooping run over the asteroid where the prison stood, taking out several turbolaser turrets in the process.

“Nice one, Rex,” Nia cheered on over the intercom, steering the Falcon straight towards a suitable landing spot. Turbolaser turrets attached to the building of the prison facility were still firing around, but they weren’t able to angle themselves down to the asteroid surface. Three more fighters from Red Squadron swooped in from another angle, taking out the remaining turret towers on the surface.

“We’re moving in to land and deploy troops,” Bail Organa informed as the Golden Wind corvette moved to catch up to the Falcon. The larger ship moving towards the prison drew the attention of several TIE fighters, four of them forming up to launch an assault. One after another, the TIEs swooped over the corvette and fired away relentlessly, shaking the interior of the ship. The corvette tried firing back, but its own laser cannons were unable to shoot down any TIE.

“They’re doing a serious number on us,” the captain of the Golden Wind said as the vessel shook again from another attack run.

“We need someone to shake these TIE fighters off of us,” Bail Organa called out over intercom.

“Hang on, senator, we’re coming,” the leader of Gray Squadron responded. “Gray Four, Gray Six, with me.” Three Y-wings formed up and made a beeline for the TIEs harassing the Golden Wind.

Another attack run shook up the corvette, more so this time.

“Captain, they’ve knocked out our weapon systems!” one of the bridge pilots informed.

“If your weapons are down,” Captain Perun of the second corvette started talking over intercom. “Then you should pull back to the rear of the battle. Don’t be open targets.”

“Negative, captain,” Bail Organa responded, firm in his tone. “We have a lot of troops on board and they’ll be needed on the ground. I have full faith in our fighter squadrons to keep us safe for as long as need be.”

As the senator was speaking, the fighters of Gray Squadron quickly caught up to and started firing away at the targeted TIE fighters, chasing them away from the corvette. As one TIE blew up, the remaining three quickly split up, and Gray Leader was just as quick to react.

“You two chase those that broke off,” he commanded. “I’ll take the leader down.” Following his orders, the trio of Y-wings split up as they chased after different TIEs. But Gray Leader found he wouldn’t have an easy hunt, as the TIE made lots of sharp twists and turns to stay off the targeting system. “Stand still, dammit,” he found himself mumbling. Just as it seemed the TIE was finally within reach, more imperial fighters dropped in from behind, turning Gray Leader from hunter to hunted. “Ach, they tricked me!” Gray Leader berated himself as the TIEs started firing.

Just in the next moment, red blaster fire tore through the pursuing TIEs from the side, relieving the Y-wing of pressure. Gray Leader turned to see a vulture droid align itself with him, sending what sounded like positive signals through the communications.

“Saved by a damn droid,” he chuckled. “Oh how far the galaxy has come.” Without waiting a moment longer, he promptly fired upon the TIE he had been chasing, blowing it up.

With the coast as clear as could be, both the Golden Wind and the Millennium Falcon headed for the surface of the asteroid.

Rex and two others went for an attack run on some of the turbolaser turrets mounted along the towering structure. Just as the cannon blew up and Rex’s fighter flew through the flames, a drastic change of plans suddenly became necessary. It happened in a near instant, an energy shield surged forth from the peak of the tower, arching wide and downwards very quickly.

“Watch out!” Rex and Pyra both shouted, as all three X-wings made a tight turn to the side so as not to fly headfirst into the energy shield. One of the fighters was too slow, and grinded hard against the sudden surface before exploding. As Rex’s X-wing flew the across the edge of the shield, he couldn’t help but think of the sharp turns and narrow passageways of Beggar’s Canyon back on Tatooine. Rex took the opportunity to glance at the top of the tower where the shield was sent out from. Still a few turbolaser turrets up there, and with the shield up it took away most of Rex’s space to manoeuvre around and dodge the blasts. Not good.

“I don’t think we can do much from here,” Rex said to the other fighter. “Let’s rendezvous with the landing party for now.” As the two fighters made a dive towards the ground where the Falcon and Golden Wind had managed to land, Rex noticed the rear of the corvette was partially burning. The shield must’ve bumped into the upper edge of the engines last second. Better that than slicing the ship in two.

…

[Deep Red Station, asteroid surface]

Nia Solo stepped down from the boarding ramp of the Millennium Falcon and watched as three X-wings and a Y-wing also landed down. Out of one of the cockpits stepped Rex Skywalker. Pyra seemingly just appeared from nowhere behind him, and the duo started moving towards the Falcon, followed by the other pilots. A handful of rebel soldiers stepped out from the interior of the Falcon, although most remained reluctant to simply walk out into the open. Nia picked up her intercom and started talking to the bridge crew over at the Golden Wind corvette.

“Team One at the ready, how about you?” she asked, glancing back and forth between the corvette and the eerily silent prison complex.

“Our ship is pretty battered,” Bail Organa responded through the intercom. “But other than that Team Two is ready. Is it safe out there?”

“The welcome committee is more of a surprise party here I wager,” Nia responded, feeling like she was answering both the senator and her own thoughts.

“I don’t get it, where’s all the stormtroopers?” Mythra said as she carefully stepped down the boarding ramp. “Should they be raining blaster fire down on us by now? And why were they so slow with the shields? We’re already on the inside.”

“Consider a few things, princess,” Dromarch said as he walked past Mythra and stepped down onto the dusty, rocky surface of the asteroid. “This isn’t some military position, it’s a prison. They want to keep people IN. The shields aren’t to protect themselves, its to trap any would-be escapee, and us. Same thing for their garrison, they’re staying inside to hold the position and keep the prison secure.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Rex began, a frown forming on his face. “We’ve sprung their trap, and they want us to go even deeper into it.”

“Eyup,” Nia nodded. “They’re not gonna start firin’ until we’re directly in front of them.” She turned around to the other soldiers still waiting on-board the Falcon. “Oy, that means you can get out here! It’s safe for now.”

“What about Team Two?” Rex asked. He hadn’t been intended to join the strike team, but now that he was here he might as well assist.

“We’ll be keeping our team on stand-by for now,” Akhos responded over the intercom. “We’ll keep our players ready to join the scene after the initial attack.”

“Alright then,” Nia mumbled in response as she put the communicator away. “What’s the plan? Blow our way in?”

“Yup,” Mythra nodded. “Even if we’re not being shot at, we’ll try to lay low and move quick, get to the entrance doors, blow em up and get in all guns blazing. Secure our position, split up, locate the Tornans, and get them out.”

“There’s gonna be a lot of prison cells to search,” Pyra noted, gazing back at the prison tower and its sheer size. “And how do we even open the cells? There’s bound be some centrally controlled lock mechanism.”

“That’s where the splitting up comes into play,” Mythra confidently said. “We’ll cover more ground, find out how to release the prisoners. But it’s vital that we stay in touch through communicators. We’re dividing, but we can’t give the imperials the chance the conquer us.”

All the rebels murmured between each other, commenting on the plan, before they all put on a face of readiness and gave Mythra a nod.

“If all is said and done,” one of the captains spoke up. “Then let’s head out, we don’t got all day.”

“Right!” everyone said in agreement.

With the captain taking the lead, everyone carefully started moving towards the closed door or the prison facility. A large blast door shut tight. Still no sign of exterior defences.

Mythra was following right behind the captain, a tall man hailing from Rendili with a long history of sabotage and extraction missions. Rex and Pyra followed after a bit behind, accompanied by Tora and Poppi. Rex’s astromech R2-D5 stayed behind in the X-wing to act as an extra informant on the outside. Nia and Dromarch filled up part of the middle of the whole team alongside Crossette and the Duros captain of that unit. The commando droid was part of the rear squad. Mythra wasn’t sure just how many they were, but it was at least several dozen rebels all together. In addition there was the even larger Team Two still on stand-by in the Golden Wind, being at least two thirds of the total ground force they had brought. As they reached the closed blast door, several soldiers started finding their positions, using whatever wall protrusions and ramp slopes were available as cover for the inevitable firefight waiting once the door opened.

“Droid, get this door open,” the captain ordered to Poppi, pointing to a control panel where she could plug in.

“Poppi will do,” the advanced protocol droid gleefully obeyed, rushing to the panel and plugging herself in. After a few moments of digging through files, Poppi pulled a confused and pondering expression. “Huh, that weird.”

“What wrong, Poppi?” Tora asked. Something already going wrong on the mission was not a good thing. Although this didn’t seem like the catastrophic type of wrong, more like the strange surprise type of wrong.

“Door not locked at all,” Poppi said, plugging herself out and turning around to face Tora and the captain. “And entrance hall is unoccupied.” Not waiting for a reaction, Poppi simply pushed the big red button to open the blast doors. A few soldiers reacted with shock at the sudden action, some readying their blasters for whatever was inside. But as the doors opened, the hall was empty.

“Meh meh? Where troopers?” Tora exclaimed in confusion. “Does this place really have that much lacking manpower? Is shameful is what it is.”

Mythra was incredibly confused herself, but she didn’t have much time to dwell on that confusion. Finally, Foresight hit her with another vision.

A room barely illuminated by dark, red lights. Blasters pointed at them. One tall, dark figure. Another taller, pale figure. The dark figure spoke in a notable accent. “The boss is gonna wanna see you, princess.”

Over as quickly as it had begun, Mythra was brought back to reality. She had no idea who those in her vision was. They couldn’t have been stormtroopers. Although they may still be imperial.

“Princess?” A tug on Mythra’s hand, she blinked a little and realized she must’ve been weirdly staring at nothing. She looked down and saw Tora giving a concerned look up at her.

“Hey, you okay?” Rex asked from behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah! Yeah…” Mythra quickly responded, looking back at Rex and Pyra beside him. “Just… a little confused, y’know.” She turned to face forward again, gesturing to the empty hall, which by now was slowly being filled with rebel soldiers, glancing around for any traps. “I mean, where’s all the stormtroopers? Surely they know by now we’re attacking them, right?”

Mythra and the other walked into the entrance hall along with the rest of the soldiers. In the center of the room, Poppi was displaying a holographic map projection, one she had downloaded when she plugged in at the door. The captains were discussing tactics and the best course of action for dividing their strength. Mythra, along with Rex, Pyra, and Tora, all watched on from the sidelines. Nia snuck up to stand next to them.

“Talk about red light district, am I right?” Nia joked, noting the dim red lights illuminating the place. Mythra chuckled lightly but it didn’t help her sense of unease. She decided to listen more intently to the captains strategy, which seemed to be smoothening out into a proper plan.

The captain from Rendili spoke up to get everyones attention. “There is a central elevator just down the hall from here, it’ll most likely go straight up to the prisoner floor. So whoever takes that will be very exposed. Captain Mavvik,” he turned to the Duros captain. “I want you to only take your best men up the elevator, and only as soon as the rest of us have already created enough of a distraction on the prison floor. I’ll take my unit over to the east side of the building, find a manual way up, and along the way see if we can do something about the power generators in this section.” He pointed to a part of the map on the other side from where they stood now. “Captain Khrys,” he turned to the third captain, a hardy-looking woman who had said very little in their time here. “Take your unit up from the west side here. And remember what our target and priority is: get the Tornans out of here.” He pointed to a small room in the dead center of the whole tower. “This should be where the main controls for the prison cells are. Get in there, and we can start freeing Tornans.”

“But what about the shield?” Rex spoke up. “We gotta deactivate that too.”

“Correct,” the captain reaffirmed. “From what I can tell here on the map, the shield is controlled from this top room here.” He pointed to the map again. “We have to fight our way up the entire damned tower. We’re gonna need manpower for that. I’ve relayed to senator Organa, once any one of us gets close to the central control room, the rest of the troops on board the Golden Wind will march out to reinforce us. That’ll also make it easier to evacuate Tornans once that begins. We make the foothold, then the cavalry arrives. Now let’s move out!”

“Right!” everyone nodded in unison. Quickly afterward, the captain began assigning specific soldiers on or off their team. Captain Mavvik in particular was being very careful on who he picked, giving everyone throughout looks.

“Fanel.” He simply spoke their names and pointed towards them, and they responded with a firm nod. “Barrada. Cothar. Bee-Ex. Arrakis. Enceear.” A few more names, then his team was completed.

Captain Khrys had also chosen a few specific people she wanted on her team, along with the rest of the unit she already commanded. “Solo. And Dromarch.” She called out their names in a very monotonous voice.

“Right,” Nia called back. “Guess I’ll see you lot on the flipside,” she said to Mythra and the others, who were in turn approached by the captain from Rendili.

“Princess, you’ll be with my team,” he informed. “Rex, you and the rest of the fighter pilots can join up with us too. Tora, I want you and your droid with us in case we need to plug into some computer systems.” They all nodded as they captain spoke to them. “Crossette,” he called out to her across the room, and she hurried over to him. “How many explosives did you bring?”

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder at two large crates by the door entrance. “Enough,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Good. Everyone!” he called out for everyone’s attention. “Grab as many grenades as you think you’ll need and can fit with you, there’s plenty to go around so no need to be greedy. But don’t be reckless either.” As everyone started picking up their fair amounts of explosives, the captain turned to speak directly to Crossette. “And I want you with us well. If we can blow a big chunk out of the power generator to this place then that’s a good start. And I might need you to blow some other stuff up too.” Crossette simply smiled at him.

“That’s my specialty,” she cheerfully said.

With all the different teams assembled and ready to go, it was time to split up. Divide, but don’t get conquered. The captains gave each other a nod, a silent good luck, then it was time to move out. The first two teams took the hallway leading to the central elevator, the third team went through one of the side doors, looking for an alternate way up to the prison floor.

As the team hurried through the long corridor, Pyra leaned over to whisper something to Rex.

“Back in the storage room,” she began. “I looked around for security cameras. I saw some, but they were all busted and fried.”

“Yeah, I saw some too,” Rex whispered back. “I think the captain also did.” They silently thought the same thing: they weren’t the only rebels here.

After a short while, the corridor opened up into a wide, circular room. Guardrails spanned the wide walkway, a huge open space in the middle. At the midway points on either side of the room stood control panels. This was the base of the central elevator. As the two teams poured out into the room, the Rendili captain and captain Mavvik exchanged a few words before reaching one of the control panels. Mavvik hit a few buttons on the panel, then spoke out to everyone.

“My team stays here, the rest of you move on.” Short and simple, blunt and to the point. That was his style.

Mythra, along with the others, nodded and moved across the length of the room, deciding lingering too long was a waste of time. The team gathered outside the doorway to the next long hallway, and as everyone arrived they opened the door and got to moving.

However it wasn’t long before the door shut behind them that a plethora of other doors along the walls suddenly opened, catching everyone off guard.

Several beings poured out from all directions, although none of them were dressed as stormtroopers. There was a general mishmash of clothes on all the different beings: black robes and battle-worn armor, some with formal uniforms underneath or just standard breeches. Some more heavily armed than others with weapons, some concealing their face, the only thing these assailants had in common in what they wore, was a dark red cloth tied around their shoulder or forehead. The thing that revealed them as a uniform group. That, and that their blasters were all pointed at Mythra and her group.

The captain was quickest to react, deciding bargaining was better than battling. “Everyone calm down now,” he said, both to his own unit and to those holding them at gunpoint. “Let’s not be too hasty now everyone, okay? Nobody here’s a stormtrooper, so let’s all save our shots.”

Mythra looked about. They were all completely surrounded. If a shootout began, they’d be roasted in no time. “We might as well comply,” she whispered to Rex standing next to her. Everyone who had held a blaster slowly holstered it again and raised their arms in formal surrender.

“Smart move,” someone from the front of the group said, voice clear and firm. Mythra looked ahead and saw a tall, white alien march forward. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was his skin or armour on him. But his four arms were unmistakable, the extra pair protruding from behind his shoulders. “But don’t you worry. Like the smart fella here said, nobody here’s a stormtrooper. We can talk this out.” Another being walked up to stand beside the tall white alien.

“I’m a better talker than you, Perdido. Let me handle it.” It looked to be a human, fairly tall, pale olive skin colour, brown breeches on his long legs, the uniform on his body mostly black with light blue engravings and armour gilded to look gold. His face was stern and serious, yet something about his tone of voice and how he moved gave him away as a more extravagant person. He had a notable accent, though Mythra wasn’t quite sure of where from. As she looked at the two figures in the front, her thoughts wavered back to her vision. The tall dark, and the taller pale.

“You can put your hands down, muchacho,” the person said to the captain. “There’s no need for animosity here, we can be friends of the Alliance. On the battlefield at least.” He chuckled briefly before glancing around on the rebel team. His eyes suddenly lingered on Mythra for a while. She only returned an annoyed glance back at him.

“You,” he began, pointing to her. “Princess Mythra of Torna herself.”

“Yeah, what about it?” Mythra shot back, not caring about being nice and formal.

“The boss is gonna wanna see you, princess.”

…

Chapter Text

[Deep Red Station prison facility]

Another screen went blank as the camera was destroyed. The operator was getting visibly frustrated by now. Pushing around on some buttons to get the feed of another camera onto the screen, he mumbled a few curses to himself. So far, the operator had been the one getting the most visibly upset. Everyone else just kept themselves nervously silent and stoic. Warden Akros was beginning to sweat though. This would be the real test to see if he was as in charge of the place as he pretended.

“These rebels are certainly elusive,” the Special Inquisitor commented, giving half a glance towards the warden.

“Erm, well… they certainly know how to shoot a security camera,” Akros mumbled, before finding his more confident tone again. “B-but that does not matter! Cameras or no, they’re leaving breadcrumbs for us!”

“Oh, how lovely,” Brighid sarcastically said. “Now we won’t get lost in the woods.” The Special Inquisitor felt herself slightly smiling at her companion’s jest.

“What I mean,” the warden continued, irritated at his interruption. “Is that we’ll know where they are. We know where they’re moving to, based on the security cameras they’re destroying.”

“And once they stop moving forwards?” the Inquisitor asked him. “Once they start moving backwards instead, where they’ve already been? What then?”

“Our troopers gun them down of course,” Akros almost shouted. Almost. “There’s no way they’ll outmanoeuvre us, or outgun us.” The warden turned to speak with some of the officers, and the Special Inquisitor was glad for the excuse to not look at him anymore. Pulling up a commlink, she pushed the button a few times, but nothing came through.

“I still can’t contact the Silent,” she leaned over to Brighid and whispered. “Whatever the rebels are doing out there, its not good for us.”

“I reckon standing around here is doing us any better,” Brighid responded. “We might as well wipe their ground forces ourselves.”

…

[hallway outside storage room]

Rex couldn’t help but feel nervous around these other rebels. They clearly weren’t directly affiliated with the Alliance, but were still eager to ally. Until they had seen Mythra, of course. Now what? Were they going to take her prisoner and cash in the bounty on her? Or keep her a hostage? He didn’t want to think the worst of this gang, and Pyra tried to share reassuring thoughts with him. But Rex was still unsure.

As they reached a closed door at the end of the hallway, the man who had spoken of “the boss” pulled out a commlink and spoke into it. “We’re outside, with guests. Ones we’ve invited.” A few moments passed, and then the door opened. The figures that met them were more of the kind with mismatched styles, uniforms and armour and dark cloaks, but all shared the red cloth.

The one who met them at the door mumbled something in an alien language, then simply nodded his head in one direction, ushering them inside. The other figures inside eyed Rex and the others suspiciously. There were a few tense moments of silence, before the same man who had led them spoke up again.

“Alright, where’s the boss?” He looked around, his face a lot less serious than Rex felt the situation was. “If he’s in an upper corridor, bring him down here.”

“He’s already on his way,” one of the other beings responded, voice obscured by a mask.

As if on que, one of the other doors burst open. Everyone’s eyes immediately turned, along with their blasters. When they saw a group of friendlies staggering through, the tension eased. Rex could swear he heard blaster shots in the distance. It wasn’t long before the new group had entered before a few others abruptly left, probably filling in on whatever battle zone this other group had left. One of the figures appeared notably different in style from the others. Rex assumed this was the aforementioned boss, seeing as how he personally exchanged a few words with all the others who had come with him, making sure they were alright and not injured. His armour was a silvery-white, probably shiny at some point but had clearly become duller with time. Gold patterns and edges adorned various parts of the armour, which he wore over his legs, chest, and arms. It was also paired with more cloth-like fabric in black, golden yellow, and white. He too had a dark red cloth tied around his shoulder, and wore a mask obscuring his face, although his dust-grey hair was still visible. The other man walked up to him and the two exchanged a few words, both giving brief glances towards both Mythra and the rest of the team. Rex took a look at the princess too, and her face was one of confused familiarity. As if she knew who this was, or at least thought she had an idea of it. The grey-haired man walked slowly towards them, arms hanging down his sides.

“I can’t believe it,” he said through the mask. Mythra seemed a bit surprised herself and took a few careful steps forward. She was clearly the subject of interest here. The man quickly brought his hands up to his mask and fumbled around with getting it off. After he took the mask off, it revealed a face with golden eyes, a solid chin, and a huge smile. “Mythra!” he shouted with joy.

“Addam!” Mythra shouted back. She rushed forwards and two collided into a huge hug as they both laughed and cried together. Most everyone else seemed a bit confused, although most of the other group seemed at least happy.

“Umm…” Rex spoke up as he stepped forward. “Would you care to introduce us?”

A few more laughs, before Mythra finally calmed down. She looked up at the man called Addam with a wide smile even though her eyes seemed on the verge of crying. Wiping the tears before they started, she turned to her rebel team to inform them.

“Everyone, this is my brother, Addam Origo.”

A few nods from the group, before it dawned on them just what that meant. Princess Mythra’s brother. From Torna. Now it made a whole lot more sense why she reacted the way she did.

“Tora did not know princess had siblings,” the Nopon commented. Rex hadn’t heard so either. But he had never pressed the topic of her family. Out of respect.

“Half-sibling,” Addam corrected, his voice cheerful and boisterous. “We had the same father.”

“That doesn’t make you any less a part of the family,” Mythra insisted with a smile on her face. She was clearly happy to meet such a familiar face. “But, blood relations aside…” she began, smile gone and replaced with a much more serious expression. “What’re you even doing here? A-and how did you… I thought you’d be on…”

“On Torna?” he responded before she could continue. “Perhaps officially, I was. As soon as I heard about the Tantive IV disappearing, I knew something was up. I gathered a few men and quietly slipped away unnoticed. I rendezvoused with a few other contacts in the outer rim, and then I heard about Torna.” He looked down on the floor a bit, as if ashamed to speak of it. “I thought I lost you that day. I thought I lost everyone.”

“But you didn’t,” Mythra tried to reassure him. “I’m here, I’m alive. As are thousands of other Tornans imprisoned here.”

“I know!” Addam responded, his brightness back. “That’s why I’m here!” He took a few steps around the room, stretching his hands out wide to bring attention to his whole group. “That’s why we’re all here! We’ve been a nasty thorn in the Empire’s side, and we’re about to become even nastier. WE are Torna’s Finest.” As he spoke, cheers went around the room as everyone raised their fists or blasters in unison. “We don’t fight as clean as the Rebel Alliance might want us to, but our fight is effective. Saw Gerrera knew that too, he knew the dirty way was sometimes the only way. We snuck our way in here, and we’re gonna blow these imperial bastards sky high and get our people outta here!” Cheers all around again.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re aligned with the Partisans,” the Rendili captain groaned. Rex had heard about Saw Gerrera and his Partisans, how they were a lot more extreme than the rest of the Alliance, and had given the rebellion a generally bad name in the eyes of many imperial citizens.

“Maybe not directly,” Addam mumbled in response. “But you Alliance folks would do good to take a hint or two.” Addam was becoming a bit more agitated now, and Rex saw Mythra’s face shift to one of slight concern. “The Empire only understands violence, so we answer them with violence. We don’t wage guerrilla warfare from a large mobile fleet, we do it with boots on the ground. We don’t take prisoners, we try not to endanger civilians, but that can’t always be helped. We will cut the Empire again and again until it bleeds to death. Too many in the Alliance leadership is afraid of looking like warmongers and terrorists, but that’s what a rebellion is. We’re all in this for personal reasons.” Again, Addam stretched his hands out to bring attention to everyone else on his team. “We’re here because the Empire has destroyed our homes. Killed our families. Stripped our planets dry. We’re Tornans, Twi’leks, Corellians, Lasat, Wookiees, Quarren, Coeian, our resource manager is a Hutt. We’re all different, but we all agree that the Empire needs to pay, and they need to pay dearly.”

“We’re also here because of you, prince Addam,” other man spoke up. “You’re the one who lead us, you’re the one who brings us all together, despite our differences.” As he spoke, murmurs and nods of agreement went all around. “We gather around you, and you lead us against the Empire. We sympathize with you, with our comrades, and with those we fight for.”

“Thanks, Minoth,” Addam nodded back. “I try to be the leader you all want me to.”

“I’m in it for the money,” the tall white alien previously identified as Perdido commented. “I’m in it cause you’re paying me.”

“Yeah, we know…” Addam mumbled slightly annoyed. Rex felt a degree of tension had sparked between his rebel team and Addam’s. You didn’t need to be Force sensitive to see that. The captain clearly disapproved, seeing them as extremists rather than fighters.

“Well, since we’re all together, let’s join forces,” Rex said as he stepped forth, looking straight at Addam, gold eyes meeting gold eyes. “We’re rebels, you’re rebels. We’re here to free Tornans, you’re here to free Tornans. It just makes sense.” Everyone gave each other mildly suspicious glances, but Rex wasn’t going to let minor ideological differences get in his way for this. “Look, we’re all here because we’re against the Empire. And right now, we all have comrades fighting in these halls to complete a mission. We CAN work together, even if our methods elsewhere don’t exactly align. But they don’t need to. What matters is that we’re fighting for the freedom of the galaxy, fighting so that the Empire can’t crush all of us under their tyranny.”

“Fighting the oppression from a brutal government that doesn’t represent its people,” Crossette shot in, finding herself thinking of admiral Newt. How the separatists had fought against the tyranny or the Core. How the rebellion was now fighting that same tyranny.

“Fighting so that all peoples of galaxy can be free to live own life, meh,” Tora chimed in. Although the captain gave a few stern looks, it seemed most everyone else was convinced, including Addam.

“You’re right, kid. We’re all in the same fight here,” he said, giving Rex a bright smile. “So let’s give the Empire hell and free our people!” Cheers all around, from both Addam’s group and Rex’s group.

…

[another part of the facility]

The group was generally quiet, only the occasional mumbling of watching your six. Having split apart from the larger rebel force, the units led by captain Khrys had found an alternative way up to the higher floors: A very long stairwell. And it didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon. Going upwards and upwards. Nia felt almost nauseous if she started thinking about it too much. Going up in a big circle seemingly never ending. She just wanted something to happen already.

And it seemed the stars had heard her prayer. From higher up, the sound of a door slamming open and the footsteps of several people could be heard. Nia and several others leaned over the railing and looked up, being met with the sight of stormtroopers.

“There’s more of them here!” one of the troopers shouted, and promptly the imperials started firing down. Pulling away from the edge of the stairs, Nia was suddenly grateful they hadn’t gotten that far up yet. The stairs above them provided ample cover. For now at least.

“Push forward!” the captain shouted, not wanting her troops to hesitate, pushing the offensive against the stormtroopers before they started pushing downwards. Most started clinging to the wall to avoid blaster fire from above, but Nia thought it was better to rush headfirst into the danger. Making sure she was still under cover, she ran up the stairs as fast as she could, Dromarch following closely behind. She also knew a couple other reckless hotheads were following her lead. Guess this is what it’s like to be a commander of the rebellion.

One turn, then another, and another, and suddenly she was confronted with equally hotheaded stormtroopers wanting to close the gap. Whatever, just remember to shoot first and there’d be no trouble. There was no use in stepping back, there wasn’t any cover from troopers if they were right ahead. Nia simply continued moving forward, blaster pointed straight ahead and gunning down whatever she could shoot at. Dromarch was good support covering her, his custom-fitted blaster had a faster fire-rate and packed more of a punch than her own little pistol. Nia and all the rebels following her rushing towards the troopers despite their high ground, in addition to Dromarch looking generally fierce and terrifying in combat, must’ve thrown the imperials off guard quite the bit. At least for the time they had before they all got gunned down. But as the rebels moved upwards, so too did they move to more exposed ground, primed to get gunned down by stormtroopers on the higher steps. Stick to the walls, then rush down any enemy in front of you.

Eventually, Nia rounded the final corner, reaching the stormtroopers that had initiated the firefight. She still had a brief moment to act whilst they were busy firing at rebels on lower levels, and promptly fired away whilst most of the troopers could be caught off guard. One of two of them down, before the rest were able to gather themselves and fire back at Nia. But by now the troopers were outnumbered as the rebels could rush them down without the suppressive fire from above. The battle of the stairwell was brief and bloody enough, now it was time to find some more blood and battle.

“When the troopers first noticed us,” Dromarch began, pondering aloud to Nia. “They said there were more of us. Do you think that means the other groups have been found already?”

“Best we get moving then,” Captain Khrys shot in before Nia had a chance to answer. “We’ll move forward through where the troopers came from, get a hold of our location, and take it from there.” Without another word, the captain began moving, entering the long corridor the stormtroopers had come from. Nia and the rest followed suit.

The corridor was long and featureless, though the white lights illuminating it was a nice change of pace from the dim red everywhere else. Some soldiers around the rear of the group were placing remote detonator bombs along the walls and corners. Smart move, in case they needed to cut off someone. And also blow them up in the process.

Various of the doors along the corridor were checked as they moved along, but it was mostly just basic utility tools for cleaning and such. But at the end of the corridor was a larger door that just screamed “there’s an important room behind here!” Nia tried to remember the layout of the facility from the map Poppi had shown. If her memory served her correctly, the prison cells were just ahead. As the rebels gathered around the door, the captain gave a few hand signals, putting everyone in different positions of either hiding or standing with blasters ready, preparing for whatever they would meet. Nia felt her ears laying back across her head, twitching at even the slightest noise. The captain pushed the button to open the door, and everyone steeled themselves.

“Hey!” was just about everything the stormtrooper on the other end of the door managed to utter before getting filled with blaster bolts. The first trooper being downed brought the attention of just about every other trooper in the room, turning to face the rebels.

Neither side wasted time ogling the other, exchanging blaster shots immediately. The stormtroopers were quick in picking off the rebels who were standing right in the middle of the doorway, completely exposed, but the troopers didn’t have much cover either and went down just as fast. Nia was just grateful she had stuck to the wall and had a slight amount of cover. Didn’t stop her from taking the offensive initiative as the stormtroopers were mowed down. She, along with a few others, quickly stepped into the next room, continuing to fire at the stormtroopers ahead of them. A guardrail over a gaping fall separated her group from the rest of the troopers. Nia allowed herself quick glances to either side, looking for ways across the gap, and in the process she realized this wasn’t just any random room.

The room was colossal. Just now she realized how far apart her side was from the troopers’ side. A quick glance upwards, and the roof was nowhere to be seen, simply wall stretching ever higher, lined with walkways and bridges and stairs. And prison cells. The glow of yellow force fields separating the imprisoned from freedom, mixed with the irritating red light the entire place was illuminated with, gave a vague orange glow to sections of the room, like old nightlamps on less industrial planets. It was first now Nia truly realized the sheer scale of their rescue mission.

“Hope that corvette is big enough,” she mumbled to herself.

A sudden explosion brought Nia’s attention back to the present. It had come from behind the opposing stormtroopers, the door behind them blowing up and knocking them away.

“That must be the others!” Nia thought, glad they could successfully rendezvous. When people dressed in mishmashed dark clothes with red armbands showed up and started shooting down the troopers, Nia felt a bit more confused. Nobody from the Falcon or Golden Wind had been dressed like that, right? After a few more strangers poured out, Nia got caught off guard by one figure she did recognize, emerging from the blown-up doorway, standing tall and blasting down troopers.

“Perdido?!” she shouted out in surprise. “The hell are you doing here?” The bounty hunter turned as his attention was diverted, making eye contact with Nia.

“Solo!” he shouted back, a lot more cheerfully than she herself had shouted. “Just making a quick buck.” Figuring details could be spared for now, Nia simply shook her head slightly and refocused on the battle.

Several rebel soldiers had started running the length of the walkway along the wall, blasting down whatever troopers were in front, across on the other side, or on a higher elevated floor. For a moment, both walkways were an unstoppable tide of rebels, blasting down imperials wherever they may be. But that one-sided combat wouldn’t last forever.

Seeing a connecting bridge between the walkways, Nia walked out on it trying to get a better view of the room as a whole. It was absolutely massive, and high above her, Nia managed to make out the silhouette of some larger shape between the walkways. Some kind of room perhaps.

“Oy!” She shouted and waved to the captain. “I think I see a point of interest up there!” Captain Khrys and a few other rebels joined her as she was about to point upwards. The instructions were cut short far too quickly, however.

“Look out!” Dromarch shouted as he leaped towards Nia, his huge body easily knocking her away with momentum alone. In the very next moment, the bridge they had stood on was torn through like a piece of paper, something massive tearing it down and crashing hard on the bottom floor. Safely on the opposite side of where she had started, Nia could only loudly ponder what had happened.

“The hell was that?!” she shouted loud and clear for everyone to hear. Gathering herself and standing up again as Dromarch moved off her, she glanced over to the other side, seeing the captain had also gotten to safety. Some of the others hadn’t been so lucky, however, their corpses strewn about the bottom floor along with the debris. Gazing at it, it seemed to Nia as if another bridge had fallen onto the bridge she had stood on. No, not fallen, rather been thrown. “What the hell,” she mumbled again, glancing upwards. Not much of an answer could be seen, although she did glimpse a red light moving on a higher level, distinctly different from the rest of the lights illuminating the place.

“Keep focused!” Captain Khrys shouted over to Nia and the others, now standing among the black-cloaked fighters. “Move upwards, keep your eyes peeled, flush out corridors and stay in motion. We’ll take this side, you lot got that side, we’ve got the same goal, now get a move on!”

“Right,” Nia shouted back. A cacophony of noise from high above drew her glance upwards, glancing what appeared to be another bridge being thrown down. This one didn’t have as much grace with it, tumbling and crashing along walkway guardrails and other bridges, tearing with it chunks of debris as it fell. Nia had a sneaking suspicion whatever was causing this annoying rain of debris didn’t care about the self-sabotage they were committing, so long as rebels died in the process.

…

[power generator room]

Tora had insisted on not blowing up the whole damned thing. “Don’t make generator go boom boom!” he had said. “Would shut off everything! Including artificial atmosphere and gravity stabilization. Poppi can insert into system instead, shut down specific parts. Tora have full faith Poppi can do it.”

Of course, Tora was well aware the facility probably had backup for such vital things as the artificial atmosphere and gravity, but a little bit of fearmongering never hurt anyone.

With just a bit of tinkering from Tora and Poppi, they were able to tame the power generator for their own goals. Some had suggested tapping power into movable batteries and bring them back home for the war effort, but the captain shot the notion down, saying there wasn’t time for that. Many from Addam’s militia wanted the whole station save the bare essentials shut off, but again the captain talked sense into it, saying it would only hinder their own goals. Princess Mythra’s suggestion was one most could get behind, that being to shut off power to specific parts of the facility that probably only the imperials would need anyway. That, and putting a whole load of explosives in the room to blow the place sky high once the mission allowed for it. Tora felt such needless destruction unnecessary, Crossette felt disturbingly thrilled by the idea.

Although Tora wasn’t particularly keen on jumping into battle, the captain wanted Poppi available, and Tora would not let his droid friend wander around on her own. After messing around with the systems in the power generator, it was time to move. The dim lights illuminating the room began flickering as the power was changed around. A lot of the smaller rooms would now be without light at all. Hopefully ones the rebels wouldn’t need to go through. It was just a bit of a shame that the power to the prison cells couldn’t be shut off from here, although that would’ve been an incredibly stupid design decision by the imperials.

“You done?” the captain asked Tora, to which the Nopon turned and nodded.

“Affirmative,” Tora reassured. “Power to most elevators and automatic security systems should be offline now.”

“Good, then lets get to the central room and make the coast clear for Mavvik’s team. After that, I’ll contact the Golden Wind and have em send their reinforcements.” After the captain finished his orders, he gave one last glance across everyone gathered, all the rebel soldiers giving a nod to show they were ready. The captain turned to look at Addam, who also gave a nod with a confident smile on his face.

“Alright, let’s go back our boys up,” Addam said, putting on his mask and getting a cheer from his militia. “Let’s show the Empire they messed with the wrong lot.” Addam had already sent some of his men, among them Perdido and Minoth, ahead to push the frontline whilst Tora and Poppi worked on the power generator. They should’ve gotten pretty far by now.

…

[central prison chamber room]

As Mythra entered the enormous room, she felt almost paralyzed by the sight she beheld. The huge room that seemed to stretch upwards forever, its walls lined with glowing force fields to keep prisoners inside, each and every one of those cells filled with Tornans. Filled with her people.

The sound of Rex, Pyra, Tora, and Poppi coming in behind her snapped Mythra back to reality. There was no time for exchange of words, only determined and understanding glances at they looked at each other. They had to follow the rest of the rebel soldiers, upwards to what had been identified as a central command room. From which the prison cells was probably controlled, if Tora’s description of the power systems were accurate.

Various sounds filled the room and echoed off the walls. The whirr of blaster bolts, the stomping of boots on the metallic floor, along the walkways, up and down stairs connecting the levels, shouting from rebel soldiers, stormtroopers, and the imprisoned Tornans. Both from above and from below, blaster bolts were being fired towards the rebels. Mythra felt the need to assist on the higher levels, but the bottom floor needed help too. Lucky, it seemed like Rex had read her mind.

“We’ll help the captain clean the lower floor,” Rex shouted over the commotion as he put a shoulder on her hand. “You go help Addam.” Mythra gave a quick nod before turning and running towards a pair of stairs leading up to the next level.

Rex in turn pulled out his own blaster, Pyra picking up one she had found along the way. The stormtroopers on the lower floor were mostly holding their positions, trying to discourage anyone going near the stairs leading downwards. The guardrails didn’t provide much protection but Rex still made sure to crouch down behind them in between firing down at the troopers. If the stormtroopers kept the pressure up, they’d never be able to secure the bottom floor.

“Fire in the hole!” someone suddenly shouted. Rex turned just in time to see Crossette lob maybe a dozen or so thermal detonators at once. Her shouting certainly caught the attention of the troopers, some screaming as they jumped away, others trying to shoot at Crossette. Not many moments later, a chain of explosions filled the bottom floor with fire and screaming. “Oh neat, screaming,” Crossette mumbled to herself. “That means it WAS the armour-piercing shrapnel ones I used. Good.” Rex felt himself slightly horrified for a moment, wondering just how Crossette had tinkered something that could pierce through armour specifically meant to protect from shrapnel.

“Get down there,” the captain shouted to his squad. “We gotta secure that elevator base.”

Rex was quick in following the captains order, making a run for the stairs, closely behind a few other soldiers and Pyra behind him again. Some ran the length of the stairs, others jumped the railing about halfway down, landing on the ground and opening fire in an instant. As Rex got to the bottom of the stairs, he laid low for a moment, taking in the area around. Unlike the level he had just come down from, the walls here were lined with prison cells, yellow force fields keeping the prisoners inside, although that hadn’t stopped them from walking right up to the edge of the force fields and shout out to the battlefield, cheering for the rebels and hurling insults to the imperials.

Most of the stormtroopers had gotten back on their feet, but Rex was not willing to let the rest of them get up. The troopers and rebels blasting back and forth from these distances weren’t doing either side any good, so he took the initiative to rush ahead. Rex could feel Pyra think this was a bad idea, but followed him nonetheless. He heard the captain shout to provide cover fire for Rex, as well as some of the others following after him as they shot at the troopers, agreeing with his idea of pushing ahead. Their collective momentum seemed like it was enough to overwhelm the troopers.

“Rex, the control panel!” Pyra shouted behind him, bringing Rex’s attention to the aforementioned object. A panel with a few buttons and switches, controlling the egress point of the huge elevator they had seen on the lower floor. Captain Mavvik’s team was waiting.

Rushing without thinking, just determined to be doing, Rex fixed his eyes on the panel. He swooped around and away from one trooper, confused as to why this rebel was to busy with running. Rex lifted his blaster and shot down another trooper trying to flank his left side, whilst another trooper on his right also went down, courtesy of Pyra’s covering. Rex stretched his hand out to slam whatever button necessary to activate the elevator. Curious, everything around him seemed so quiet, moving so slowly. His focus was absolute, it was if he knew his surroundings were safe without seeing them. Was this his view and understanding of his surroundings being expanded through the Force? Did Pyra’s own conscious awareness expand his own? Was this what it was like? Whatever the case, as quickly as Rex must’ve been moving in actuality, it still felt slow enough to give him a brief overview of the panel. It was miraculously mostly intact, a few pieces of shrapnel seemed to have torn into it, but it still seemed functional. Rex instinctively moved to one particular red button, slamming it down as soon as he could.

A brief moment of silence, at least within Rex’s mind. He quickly realized the firefight was still going on around him. More accurately, he discovered it when he felt himself dragged by the collar, janked back by Pyra’s hand as she pulled him away from what would’ve been a fatal blaster shot from a trooper. Rex returned fire without really looking, focusing on getting back to the staircase and away from the troopers. In the very next moment, he heard vaults opening, catching a glimpse as the floor opened wide and the elevator from the bottom came up, carrying a dozen rebel soldiers.

Captain Mavvik’s team wasted no time in mowing down the remaining stormtroopers, the few stragglers disoriented as they were fired upon from multiple directions. Prisoners from inside the cells cheered on as the rebels secured the floor. The captain gazed towards Rex’s group and shouted orders.

“We’ve got your six, get to climbing!”

Heeding the captain’s orders, Rex quickly got a move on. Rex, Pyra, and the rest of their group hurried back up the stairs they had come from, and as Rex reached the top, he allowed a glance down to Mavvik’s team. Seeing the Duros captain and the rest of his handpicked elite team in action was a sight to behold. No wasting of blaster bolts fired in the general directions of enemy troopers, instead the shots were precise and deadly. Doors leading to and from other parts of the facility opened, with stormtroopers attempting to pour out only to get mowed down and block the path for their fellow troopers. Rex observed the commando droid Bee-Ex snipe troopers with absolute precision, all the while lunging at those he hadn’t hit and cutting them down with a vibroblade. Mavvik’s team would hold the ground floor and guard the rear, cutting off troopers from other parts of the facility from reinforcing the central prison cell chamber. Relieved at least one objective had been completed, Rex got to moving again, hurrying for the next set of stairs taking him higher up, on the way stealing a glance towards his captain, on a commlink with the Golden Wind calling for the reinforcements. Every floor level was exchanging blaster fire, rebels versus stormtroopers. And at the back of his mind, Rex felt something, someone, eerily familiar.

…

[about halfway up to the central control room]

“Look out!”

Mythra called out as she grabbed hold of a rebel soldier, pulling them away as a thermal detonator thrown by the stormtroopers blew up nearby. With the danger averted, Mythra made sure to keep up her momentum, firing her blaster at wherever the imperials were. The constant echoing of blaster bolts and cheering from the imprisoned Tornans had gotten so loud it was near deafening at this point, and the irritating red that illuminated the room was starting to wear on her eyes, yet Mythra felt unbothered by it all. Maybe it was the intensity of being in battle, maybe her mind was focused on the task at hand, either way it helped keep her calm to a degree. At least it stopped her from becoming distracted.

Climbing up a flight of stairs, Mythra looked up to see there was still a ways to go before reaching the control room in the center of the structure. But they were closing in. The stormtroopers made them fight for every inch, but they were closing in.

There was always a length to go after climbing one set of stairs and getting to the next one. Smart move on the imperials part not putting them all right next to each other. The next flight of stairs was within sight, but it was filled with troopers. Both dead and live ones. Mythra knew rebel soldiers were spaced out across all the different levels, firing up on stormtroopers to them on the edge, getting a couple lucky hits in as well. Hiding behind a pair of crates next to the guard rail, Mythra glanced over the edge and saw how her brother Addam lead the charge, overwhelming the troopers, each step won followed by cheers from his followers. She saw how graceful Minoth was with his two blasters, fast and precise and moving as if it was an exotic dance. Glancing over to the other side across the bridge, she saw Nia Solo along with a few others, including Dromarch and Perdido. It was good to see her team had also made it this far.

“Nia! Over here!” Mythra called out, wanting to get her attention. True enough, the smuggler sent a glance over before waving back.

“Oi! Princess! Yer still alive!” the smuggler shouted back. Not letting the friendly reunion distract her, Nia kept firing her blaster towards the enemy troopers, downing some in the process before dodging their own counterfire.

Mythra knew the offensive along both walkways had to be just as effective, else the troopers would flank them from across the connecting bridges. She knew Addam had this side down, so she decided to rush across the bridge and help Nia’s gang. Seizing an opening, Mythra rushed across the bridge, all the while firing her blaster pistol toward where the stormtroopers were positioned. Leaping in behind Nia’s pile of boxes, Mythra understood all these piles of supply crates and barrels must’ve been hastily assembled to form protective barricades, considering both rebels and imperials were using them.

“Where’s your captain?” Mythra asked as she hid behind the crates.

“Floor below,” Nia responded. “Providing cover upwards from a lower level.”

“That cover is good for nothing if we don’t push the damn frontline!” Perdido exclaimed as he bent down to dodge blaster bolts send his way. “Emphasis on push,” he followed up. “I got an idea, help me push these boxes forward.”

Mythra and the rest nodded as they understood his idea. Getting into position, they to put enough force on the crates to both resist the blaster fire they were taking and fight back against it. At the same time, they had to be careful to keep the overall protective stacking of the crates intact. Mythra squeezed herself against the side of the box with another rebel pushing onto her shoulders to add force.

“Push!” Perdido shouted. And just like that, the whole unit got the crates moving. Mythra felt herself almost flattened between the crate the soldier behind her, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t see it but based on the amount of counterforce she felt towards the boxes as she pushed, the stormtroopers must all be firing directly at the boxes to stop the push. But the rebels moved as a single unit, coordinated and in sync. The crates felt almost weightless, actually. Just how much force was she applying? As the crates crashed into the stormtroopers, Mythra seized the moment to use the crates as a springboard, launching herself forward as leaping over the tumbling crates, all the while releasing blaster bolts into the face of imperials. She wasn’t the only one, two other rebels had the same idea, and it make quick work of the troopers. It was almost a bit strange, Mythra felt almost as if her surroundings slowed down as she leaps, even though everything was over in the briefest of moments.

“Don’t stop, push the momentum,” Perdido shouted as he lunged his long body forward and made a beeline for the next set of stairs.

“Y’heard him, get yer arse moving princess,” Nia said as she moved past Mythra.

Not needing a repeat, Mythra got on her feet and followed quickly, tailing just behind Dromarch’s tail. Even as she kept moving and sounds of battle echoed throughout the whole area, one thing stood out to her in the cacophony. She never stopped to listen to it, but it certainly helped her move forward. The countless imprisoned Tornans who watched it all go down behind prison barriers, cheering the rebels on as they pushed back against the imperials. And Mythra could hear Tornans shouting to her specifically as she ran past. Cheering their princess on. She felt more determined than ever to not let her people down.

Making it up the next flight of stairs and gazing upwards, Mythra saw it was still a considerable climb left before reaching the current objective. But she did not falter. She did not lose courage or willpower. Glancing across to the other side, she saw Addam fighting fiercely alongside Minoth. The two were like a masterful artwork of contrasts to one another. Addam was brutish, charging his way through as he gunned down enemies relentlessly, bashing down whoever he hadn’t gotten with his blaster, a large and heavily customized weapon. He also had a more proper melee weapon with him, a customized stun baton that could deal a lethal hit, though he hadn’t gotten the chance to use it yet. Minoth was like a fluid dance, moving smoothly across the floor and twisting as he dodged enemy blaster bolts, all the while delivering back shots with his twin blaster pistols. These too were customized, adorned with bladed accessories to make them truly lethal for close-quarters combat. It was almost thrilling to watch that dynamic duo carve through stormtroopers like cake.

Flicking a glance downwards at the lower levels, Mythra saw Rex and Pyra in a hurry, speeding their way upward and delivering the odd blaster shot upwards. Those two were eager to get up to the front of the action it seemed.

A blaster bolt whirling past her head and hitting the wall snapped Mythra back to reality. She fired back, not really sure where, but she knew standing still for too long made her an easy target.

“Do keep up, my lady,” Dromarch commented to her as he moved past her, giving her a reassuring glance. And he was right, Mythra had to get a move on.

…

Stairwell after stairwell. Upwards and upwards. If Rex was starting to get tired then he wasn’t noticing it. Whatever exhaustion he had could come crashing down on him when the mission was over, right now the adrenaline fuelled him and kept him at maximum efficiency. Climbing was all he was focusing on right now. He had felt it, there was no doubt about it. The Special Inquisitor, from Leftheria. She was here. And he had to face her down, or else she would cut through the entire rebel army.

“Rex, get down!” Pyra suddenly shouted, and Rex found himself moving before even processing her words. He was just reaching the last steps of another pair of stairs as he promptly lunged forward and crawled across the floor when he got to the top, blaster bolts whirling ahead over him. Pyra came up just behind and let loose her own blaster bolts at the stormtroopers ahead, Rex making sure to back her up.

“Thanks, Pyra. Must’ve lost my focus for a sec there,” Rex said as he got back on his feet.

“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Pyra responded in a somewhat scolding tone. “If you end up getting tunnel vision, you’ll put yourself in danger. Stay calm and focused, even in the heat of battle. And remember to catch your breath every now and then.” Rex considered her words for a moment, understanding that she was right. Keeping himself focused and on-track, he simply had to do this automatically and without thinking, or else he’d never become a Jedi.

“Bombs away!” someone shouted as they rushed up the stairwell and past Pyra and Rex. The duo saw it was Addam, lobbing a grenade towards the enemy troopers and scattering them as it exploded. Not waiting for the enemy to get up, Addam rushed forward even as the smoke was lifting, kicking and knocking down any trooper that tried to get back on their feet. Rex followed after at a half-pace, amazed at his ferocity and skill. Other members of Addam’s militia rushed past him as they followed their leader, providing cover fire as they ran.

“Gotta admit, he’s impressive,” Pyra mumbled to Rex, to which he nodded.

“Yeah, makes sense too,” Rex responded. “This whole thing is very personal to him. So let’s keep up and show him our heart’s in it too!” Nodding to each other with a determined look, Rex and Pyra got on the move.

Rushing over to join up with Addam, the next stairwell, seemingly one of the last ones before reaching the middle level, was completely bogged down with stormtroopers. Cargo barrels and a sturdy riot shield one of Addam’s men had brought acted as good enough cover, but the troopers had the high ground and used it, firing down from all angles as they stood in the stairwell. The metal framework of the stairs also provided the troopers with decent cover of their own, getting in the way of blaster bolts from the rebels. Kneeling down beside Addam, Rex had to think quickly, and an idea popped up in his mind as his hand came to rest on his thigh.

“Addam, I’m gonna need your help for something,” Rex initiated, wanting to keep it quick.

“I’m all ears, kid,” Addam responded even as his eyes were fixed towards the troopers.

“Just cover me, I’ve got an idea.”

Taking the initiative, Rex leaped away from the safe cover, Pyra following his movements one-to-one, with Addam standing up to harass the troopers with blaster bolts. As planned, the attention of the stormtroopers was divided, some trying to keep Addam’s group pinned down with others trying to snipe Rex as he ran. The bridges connecting one side of the room to the other were generally bad spots to be, as it left you wide open to troopers from firing above. But it also allowed better angles to fire back up on troopers with the high ground.

Making it out to the centre of the connecting bridge, Rex felt himself pause for a moment, unbothered by the blaster bolts aimed his way.

“Let’s do it, Rex,” Pyra said, as Rex felt his own thoughts completely in sync with hers.

As he drew a deep breath and felt his mind clear, Rex drew forth and ignited his lightsaber. The brilliant blue blade emerged in a beam of plasma energy from the hilt, hugely contrasting the dim red and orange colours the rest of the great room was illuminated by. For a moment, it seemed as if all attention was on Rex. The stormtroopers halted their firing, if only a brief second. The rebels who saw Rex were equally baffled. It didn’t take a moment longer for the troopers to fire upon Rex.

“Get the Jedi!” one of the troopers shouted, and as their blaster bolts flew towards Rex, he tried to keep his head calm. Stepping aside to dodge most of the blaster bolts, Rex silently and with focus swung his lightsaber and deflected a blast back towards its source. The bolt burst upon contact with the metal grid the stormtrooper hid behind, but the deed was done and Rex knew he was capable of using the imperials firepower against them. Rex might have gotten full of himself and overconfident if more blaster bolts hadn’t come his way. The barrage of blaster fire kept Rex on his toes, Pyra standing with him back-to-back, and the two of them moved almost like a rhythmic dance, performed by them both flawlessly even as they improvised on the spot. Whenever Pyra got the opportunity, she used her blaster to fire a few quick shots towards the troopers on the stairs or on higher elevations. Whilst Rex was able to deflect some shots and keep himself alive as long he kept moving, he wasn’t doing much damage to the stormtroopers. His deflections were inaccurate, and the constant barrage made it hard for him to focus and aim what directions he wanted the bolts to go. But Rex had only ever intended himself to be a distraction, nothing more.

The moment Rex had first gotten the attention of the stormtroopers, Addam had followed up the initiative. Leaping out over the safe covers and making a mad dash for the staircase, brandishing his blaster rifle and in absolute focus. Already as soon as he reached the foot of the stairs, he began firing away at the exposed troopers, catching them off guard. The first trooper went down before even realizing it, the second trooper had about half a second to realize he was exposed before going down. Taking two steps at a time, Addam bounded his way up the stairs whilst the troopers were busy with Rex. Reaching the top of the first set of stairs and rounding the corner, the trooper waiting for him had just about gathered himself and realized they were under assault from behind. The trooper aimed and tried to fire but Addam was upon him in no time, bashing the trooper down with his blaster like melee weapon and sending the imperial reeling backwards across the railing, falling onto the edge of the walkway and over those railings too, plummeting down to the bottom floor. A strafing shot from below, from Minoth probably, hit the next trooper further up the staircase, too distracted wondering who to shoot at that he got shot himself. By now, the stairs had been mostly cleared, and the rebels moved forward. Addam allowed himself a glance towards where Rex stood exposed, waving around that lazer sword and dancing around blaster bolts alongside his redheaded companion. Catching the kid’s attention, Addam signalled a thumbs up to both say thanks for the opening and to get back to a relatively safer position. He had done his deed, now get back.

Heeding Addam’s signal, Rex couldn’t help but grin to himself as he rushed back to join the rest of the rebels climbing the stairs. A successful distraction and an opportunity to hone his Jedi skills. Retracting the lightsaber and grabbing onto his blaster again, Rex bounded up the staircase followed closely by Pyra. About halfway up he came face-to-face with Addam again, who had given all his comrades a pat on the back as they had rushed past him to continue the momentum. Pulling off his mask for a moment and grabbing onto Rex’s shoulder, Mythra’s brother had an intense but also reassuring look on him.

“That was bloody brilliant, kid,” he said with a huge grin. “Didn’t know we’d have Jedi on our team.”

“Thanks, I uhh…” Rex fumbled his words a bit. “I try my best.”

Addam only gave a cheerful nod back before putting his mask back on and rushing up the stairs, Rex exchanging a smile with Pyra before they too ran hot on Addam’s heels.

Reaching the next floor, Rex immediately felt uneased. There were no stormtroopers waiting. At least not on that floor. Blaster bolts still flew from higher and lower floors, but nowhere from the specific floor Rex was on now. Choosing to make himself vulnerable a second, Rex leaned over the railings to get a better view of the different floors. Far above the bottom, but he was right beneath the mid-point. One more floor and he be at the same level as the central control room. The targeted position. Far below, Rex also caught a glimpse of the sheer amount of rebel soldiers. Reinforcements sent from the Golden Wind no doubt. But Rex’s sense of unease was biting at the back of his neck. Pyra had felt it too, shared his thoughts, and whilst Rex had surveyed around, she had rushed to grab onto Addam to speak with him.

“Addam, hang on a sec,” she said, not really having the strength to physically drag him back, but he still stopped to listen to her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, open to listening but equally stern and not so eager to be disturbed whilst there was a battle to fight.

“Take a quick look around,” Rex said. “There’re no troopers on this level. There are above and below but not on this specific floor.” Addam did as Rex had asked of and glanced about the place. Most of his men had gone a bit ahead but were now looking back towards their boss, and Addam responded by shooting a hand signal to them telling them to stay put. “The central control room is right there,” Rex gestured. “Why lower their defences now? Here?”

“My prince, what’s going on?” Minoth asked as he appoached Addam and the rest, curious to why they had stopped up.

“There’s a trap waiting up those stairs,” Addam responded bluntly.

“Well we can’t wait it out forever,” Minoth responded. “There’s one way to go and its up.”

“I know, I know…” Addam said, trying to concoct a plan in his mind to deal with the situation. Glancing down to the lower levels on the opposite side of the room, Addam caught glimpses of Mythra, Perdido, and others making good way upwards all over. “We spring the trap,” he finally said, getting a mixture of wide-eyed and shocked expressions amongst mumbling in reaction. Not waiting for further responses, Addam marched straight for the stairwell leading upwards, intending to take the lead and put himself in harms way before any of his men. Rex felt compelled to follow after him, to back him up no both his decision and whatever he’d face up there. Pyra and Minoth followed suit, and then the whole unit fell in line after him. Not stopping when he reached the foot of the stairs and simply continuing upwards, he gave a few words to let everyone know just how solid his determination was.

“Remember, we’re doing this for Torna.”

At the top of the stairwell there weren’t any explosives or sudden firing squad that awaited. It was certainly jampacked with stormtroopers taking aim, but they were standing by awaiting orders. Orders from the one at the forefront of the group.

Addam stood unflinching and faced her down. The Special Inquisitor meeting his masked gaze with her same professional unchanging face. But Rex felt his nerves run ablaze. Though he tried to keep calm on the outside, inside he was sweating like a bantha in heat. Pyra stood close by, feeling equally unnerved as she looked directly upon the Special Inquisitor’s own Force spirit Brighid, her shut eyes somehow still boring deeply into Pyra.

“So, you’re the trap then?” Addam asked nonchalantly, though he wasn’t expecting an answer.

The Special Inquisitor simply ignited her crimson lightsabers, one in each hand, before giving a command to the stormtroopers. “I’ll deal with those three. Kill the rest.”

Realizing what type of fight it would be, Addam holstered his rifle and pulled out his customized stun baton, activating it as the militia troops drew their blasters and prepared to fire back. Rex too grabbed his lightsaber, the blue blade igniting as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

…

Chapter Text

… I’d say he’s not the only one much can be desired from … Does the galaxy look stable to you? … Through the Force, the whole galaxy can be felt in one breath, and its cries can be felt too … Perhaps you’ve spent too long going against the will of the Force ... Are you happy doing what you do? …

Those damn words would not leave her be. Echoing in her mind constantly. It’d be one thing if they drove her mad. But they weren’t. They were making her think about them, about herself, at a depth she had not considered for so long now.

Ramblings of an old man. They were of no matter. She served the Empire and harnessed the Force. It was a tool for her to use however she saw fit as the Empire in turn used her for what she was useful for. That was the way of things, how it should be. And now, her role was to inspect a prison. A very important prison.

…

[Deep Red Station, prison chamber middle level]

“I’ll deal with those three. Kill the rest.”

It was probably just a second of time that passed between her order and the stormtroopers following through. Even so, it felt as if she spent ages staring them down. Eyes fixated on the three of them. The tall, masked leader with the dusty grey hair. The golden-eyed rebel boy seeking to be a Jedi. And his red-coated Force spirit ally. The boy’s blue lightsaber held firm in hand, his eyes staring back at her with such bravery, yet hiding a deep fear behind them. Pounce on the fear, drive out the anger, exploit the hate. This Rex Skywalker. She was starting to understand why Lord Jin was so interested in this boy. The potential he possessed was tremendous. And if he became as powerful as his late father had been, then the Empire needed that strength.

The Special Inquisitor was brought out of her deep thoughts by the whirling sound of blaster fire. The troopers and the militia fired upon one another, neither keen on dying and quite willing to kill. Simply strutting forward, as if on casual business, she slowly closed the gap between herself and her targets. But the militia leader was in more of a hurry, and charged her down.

“Addam wait!” Rex shouted as he rushed to keep up, but Addam was set on his target. He would fight to free his people, fight to avenge his people, fight with whatever means necessary to make the Empire bleed.

As the distance between Addam and the Inquisitor closed, energized stun baton clashed against red lightsaber. Addam had brought his weapon upwards for a neck-height strike, blocked by the Inquisitor’s right blade. Moving one foot slightly backwards for a more balanced pose, the Special Inquisitor immediately followed up raising her left lightsaber, aiming for a decapitating strike. But Addam was well aware this wasn’t just any old weapon he was clashing against. Swiftly pulling back, swinging his right arm in a wide angle as he did so, deflecting the Inquisitor’s blow whilst also putting a slightly safer distance between them. Addam followed up his momentum by continuing the swing of his arm, bringing the baton crashing back into the Inquisitor’s right-hand blade. Unable to hold back his hard swing and having her lightsaber pushed downwards as the baton impacted, the Special Inquisitor’s face was left wide open and Addam intended to seize that opportunity. Clenching his fist and aiming to knock her out, Addam’s left arm lunged forward. He figured he’d get a good hit in.

In an instant, Addam found his fist frozen in mid-air, suspended a few inches before the Inquisitor’s face even as he put all his effort into pushing it forward. Understandably perplexed, a glance behind the Inquisitor revealed the truth. Brighid, shadowing the Inquisitor, held out a hand and had stopped Addam’s fist with the Force. Although the rest of Addam’s body was free to move, his pose wasn’t the most efficient. His left arm locked over his right as his stun baton held down the Inquisitor’s right blade, he wouldn’t be able to properly readjust his body to deflect the imminent blow from the Inquisitor’s left blade. Twirling in her hand as she realigned it, ready to lunge forward and stab directly into Addam’s abdomen.

It was in that moment Rex surged forward with his lightsaber, deflecting the Inquisitor’s blade away from Addam. Pyra came in from the other angle around Addam, taking aim at Brighid and firing her blaster at the Force spirit. Pyra’s distraction forced Brighid to redirect her focus, and Addam was free from her grip. Immediately pulling his fist back, Addam grabbed with both hands onto his stun baton and pulled it up again in a wide swing, aiming to hit the Special Inquisitor in the face. But the Inquisitor was quick to react, bending her head back and taking a few steps backwards to put some distance between herself and Addam’s baton as she regained her footing.

The two sides took a moment to observe each other, adrenaline running high in all five of them. Rex decided to break the tie and went on the offense. He was just hoping the plan he was concocting in his mind would pay off.

Rushing towards the Inquisitor and bringing his lightsaber in a high blow, the Special Inquisitor easily deflected the oncoming blow with her right blade. She also smoothly moved her left hand behind her back and felt the grip of her left lightsaber loosen and get pulled out. In an instant, Brighid surged forth from the Inquisitor’s right side, lightsaber in her hand, aiming for a low swing towards Rex. Addam was quick to put himself in-between, stopping Brighid’s saber with his stun baton. The next moment depended on how well Rex’s thoughts had communicated with Pyra, and it seemed like she improvised well enough. Rushing forward and managing to fire a shot, Brighid simply leaned her head away from the fired blaster bolt, but Pyra kept moving. Grabbing onto the barrel of the blaster with her free hand and quickly twisting it in her grasp into an improvised melee weapon, Pyra came in swinging from her left as she passed Addam, aiming to knock the opposing Force spirit right in the face with the butt of the blaster. Although taken off guard by the improvised tactics, Brighid was just as swift to react. Taking a hand off her lightsaber and moving it quickly in a swinging motion, Brighid used the Force to try and push the blaster and Pyra away. Although the blaster was tossed from Pyra’s grip and she herself stumbled a bit, she was too stubborn to break the offensive now. Continuing her motion forward, now with Brighid wide open, Pyra lunged forward in a tackling move straight out of a sports game, both Force spirits letting out an audible oomph as they collided with each other. Rex had been thinking of how Brighid posed as a dangerous wild card on the Inquisitor’s side, being able to swoop in with surprise attacks on him or Addam, so she had to be neutralized for at least a moment if they were to have a chance. Luckily, Rex’s thoughts had found themselves on the same wavelength as Pyra’s, and she acted upon the opening Rex had hoped he’d create.

Brighid being knocked out in such an unusual manner caught the Special Inquisitor off guard, and she knew her opponents would take full advantage of that. Addam instantly seized the opportunity Pyra had created, pivoting forward and around the Special Inquisitor, aiming to trap her in-between himself and Rex. As he practically danced his way forward with his quick feet movements, he realigned his stun baton and began bringing it into an upward swing aimed towards the middle of the Inquisitor’s body, hoping to knock the breath out of her. But the Inquisitor was fast to respond as well. She knew she couldn’t take her own lightsaber away from Rex’s, instead she repositioned her body, changing her grip from right to left hand without moving the lightsaber itself from its interlocked position, all the while moving her body around to better face down Addam. Responding before he could act upon his initiative, the Special Inquisitor quickly thrust out her arm and called upon the Force to push the Tornan militia leader back. And it kinda worked. Unfortunately, the Special Inquisitor hadn’t moved herself far enough around to get a proper push onto Addam, who had in turn pivoted himself further than planned in response to the Inquisitor’s movements. Having overshot his flanking attempt, Addam partially lost his balance and felt himself stumble towards the wall before he could readjust himself. On top of that, the Special Inquisitor’s blast of Force had still been sent in the targeted direction, but instead hit the stormtroopers that had made up the rear and kept the militia in check, knocking them down.

Although slightly off balance, Addam was quick to take in changes in the battlefield and to relay orders. “Go! Get a move on!” Addam shouted as he gave his militia group a glance from where they had hunkered down, and Minoth was first to heed the orders, rushing forward.

On the ground, Pyra was still tussling with Brighid, trying to both keep her down and not get sliced by the lightsaber. Noticing the running militia man, Brighid managed to wriggle a hand loose from Pyra and delivered an elbow jab to the younger Force spirit’s side, knocking her off momentarily. Afterwards, Brighid, still on the floor, attempted a sweeping slice towards Minoth’s legs, but he noticed it in time and summarily avoided it with a timed jump and summersault. Whilst still in the air, Minoth tried to take aim with his dual blasters at Brighid, time almost slowing down for him in the moment, but he hesitated. What if he hit Pyra instead? No good, not with all this momentum going on. Instead, Minoth adjusted his grip on the blasters and prepared to use the dagger add-ons he had, deciding a melee option was better. A better place to fight would also be an upgrade, because this battlefield was getting crowded. As Minoth’s feet became firmly planted on solid ground again, he made a lunge forward, fully intending his own weapon to collide with that of Brighid. The Force spirit had only just about gotten back on her legs when she immediately had to deflect the gun-knives away from her face, the crimson lightsaber blade colliding with the energized daggers. But Minoth kept carrying himself forward, tucking his head in between his arms, allowing Brighid to deflect his weapon but not move his entire arm. Colliding full front with the Force spirit, Brighid was knocked backwards by the sheer force of the impact as Minoth carried himself forward, his free arm grabbing around Brighid to prevent her from toppling over. But this was no kind embrace from a gentleman to a lady, Minoth just needed to move her and himself to another location.

A set of automatic doors opened as the struggling Brighid and Minoth moved towards it, less than a second having passed since Minoth’s initial lunge. Pushing the Force spirit through, Minoth was able to knock Brighid into the next room where there’d be more space to properly fight. Scrambling to her feet, Pyra followed after the struggling duo, intent on aiding Rex by keeping Brighid and the Special Inquisitor separated and even the odds he and Addam had against her.

All whilst the trio had tussled behind her, the Special Inquisitor had held firm against Rex and Addam as the militia rushed past, pouncing on the opening the Inquisitor had accidentally created. Holding down Rex was little issue, the novice Force wielder had little to no training with a lightsaber, but Addam was a different matter, an experienced warrior who knew melee combat like the back of his hand. His elusive group had harassed the Empire for the past couple of months ever since Torna was destroyed, and he was out for blood. Still though, she kept her head calm and focused on the objective. Kill the militia leader, subdue the boy. Squeezed in between them like this it wouldn’t be easy, so it was time to make some space. At first the Inquisitor made a swift downward swing towards Rex, gripping her lightsaber with both hands and coming down hard. Such a motion could be predicted from a mile away, and Rex readily blocked it, though the force of the impact unsettling him a bit. Not wasting time with interlocked blades, the Inquisitor used the power of her swinging momentum, augmented by the Force, to further break Rex’s stance and slide the colliding blades to the side. As the tips of the blades left each other, the Inquisitor brought her left leg sweeping under Rex’s feet, toppling him to the ground. As the boy fell, the Inquisitor kept her twirling motion going, switching to a single-handed grip on her hilt as she blocked an overhead strike from Addam as he tried to come in from behind her. With her free left hand, the Special Inquisitor delivered a strong Force push towards Rex, sending him tumbling down the walkway. Her eyes had shifted focus towards Addam but she still heard Rex colliding with the steel frame of the staircase leading up from the lower floor. A broken spine if she had put more power into the push.

With the boy out of the way for now, the Special Inquisitor could put all her effort into disposing of this burdensome pest. Grabbing hold of her lightsaber hilt with both hands and forcing the colliding blade and baton downwards, her transfixed gaze and unchanging expression was still enough to instil a sense of dread within Addam as the two locked eyes. He could practically feel her anger and hatred swelling to the surface. She had practically handicapped herself up until now, but she was going to let loose and go completely on the offensive now, and Addam understood how much danger he truly was in. Quickly pivoting back a few steps a pulling the baton up, he was just in time able to deflect a flurry of aggressive blows from the Inquisitor’s lightsaber, as she brought it upwards in a wide angle followed by a series of swift and powerful overhead strikes. It all moved so fast, Addam was only just about able to keep up. The Inquisitor hammered down with another overhead swing from her right, Addam being forced to hold his baton very close to himself as he defended himself against the blow. Lightsaber and stun baton locked together, Addam could feel just how much pressure he was putting on his body, this shift in fighting style from the Inquisitor damn near pushing him to his physical limits. Forcing both blade and baton into a downward angle, the Inquisitor made a wide sweeping blow across the floor and sent sparks flying towards Addam, aiming to temporarily blind him. With Addam staggering as the sparks flew, the Inquisitor readied to lunge forward with a lethal stab, but instantly felt she had to change her tactics. Using the Force to swiftly change grip of her lightsaber from right to left, the Special Inquisitor angled her arm to deflect the surprise attack from behind. Rex had gotten back on his feet and attempted a sneak attack.

“Stabbing a lady in the back? How honourable,” the Special Inquisitor taunted, her tone full of sarcasm.

“Oh, there’s a lady here?” Rex responded, his tone bearing a hint of sarcasm even through his gritted teeth. “I hadn’t noticed that.”

Twisting around and grabbing firm hold of her lightsaber, the Inquisitor brought the duelling blades over a wide angle away from her body, giving a more direct line of sight onto the rebel boy.

“You have wits and you try to use it,” she began. “But you lack the will to push it further!” She brought the lightsaber up and swung from her left into an overhead strike, with Rex responding and deflecting. “Where is your anger?” she asked. “Where is the fire in your soul to see your enemies vanquished?” Pushing herself forward and making Rex stagger backwards, she quickly pushed her blade off of Rex’s and twirled around, moving herself out of the way of a waist-high sideways strike from Addam’s stun baton. Stabbing forward with her blade to meet Addam, she continued to goad onto both Addam and Rex. “I can see how you both complement each other so well. One has the fiery desire and passion,” she began, aiming her words at Addam. “And the other has the limitless potential to be so much more,” she continued, aiming at Rex.

Addam, not particularly keen on listening, raised his baton to push the Inquisitor’s blade off of it and raised it high, bringing the baton into a hammering downward overhead angle. The Inquisitor simply pivoted away from it as the baton impacted hard with the floor, twirling herself around and sending a hard waist-high strike towards Rex in the process, who duly blocked it. “Under the right leadership, you could be something truly astounding,” the Inquisitor spoke to Rex. “You just need the right master. And I know where you can find one.”

“I’ve already told you,” Rex responded, his tone revealing how annoyed he was getting. “Not interested!”

Knocking the Inquisitor’s blade away, Rex brought his own lightsaber around to attack, taking a swing towards the Inquisitor. Her swift swordsmanship let her easily move to deflect the attack, but she was thoroughly enjoying herself even when on the defensive.

“Good, be upset, be angry,” she taunted. “And most of all, be afraid.” Those words seemed to resonate with something in Rex, stealing his focus away for a moment, his golden eyes twitching as they locked onto the Special Inquisitor’s own, partially hidden behind the visor of her hat.

“W-what?” Rex felt himself stuttering at the Inquisitor’s comment.

“Do you really think your rabble stands a chance?” the Inquisitor asked, hoping to strike a nerve or two. “Just face the facts already.” The Inquisitor lowered her voice to just over a whisper, yet it felt like it was the only thing Rex could hear, shutting out all the noise of battle happening elsewhere. “You’re an amateur waving your weapon around with no discipline or form. You do not understand the power you possess, let alone how to utilize it. Your comrades will fall here today, your friend will die, and you will be powerless to stop it. You cannot save the Tornans. You cannot save the rebellion. And you cannot deny yourself from your fate, son of Skywalker.”

The allusion to his father made Rex flinch for a moment. Pouncing on his distraction, the Special Inquisitor reached forth with her left hand and grabbed around Rex’s right wrist. The sudden motion got a surprised cry out of Rex and he tried to wrestle his arm out of the Inquisitor’s grip, but her grasp was iron hard. The red and blue lightsabers stayed interlocked as the Inquisitor rearranged her own and Rex’s arm positioning. Lightsabers held high and one hand grasping around a wrist, it may have almost looked like they were about to hug. But the Inquisitor’s ice cold and unsettling stare made Rex anything but relaxed.

“Yes, I knew your father,” the Inquisitor continued. “Shulk Skywalker was a living legend in his time. And yet he fell too, dead like all other Jedi. What makes you think an upstart like you will be any different threading down that forsaken path? There’s nothing for you to obtain but your own demise. Yours, your little redheaded ally, and everyone else in the rebellion.”

Rex didn’t want the Inquisitor’s words to get to him, and yet they were drilling themselves into his mind, her voice seeping into him like venom. She wanted him to doubt, to be afraid, to regret the path he had taken. She wanted to break him right here and now. The Inquisitor couldn’t help but revel in the sense of doubt that was seeping off of the rebel youth right now, relishing his faltering confidence.

Maybe the Inquisitor was right. Maybe there truly wasn’t anything Rex could do. He was just an upstart, a wannabe. She was so experienced she could hold back and still easily toy with him. There was nobody in the rebellion who could train him. Nobody to help him. There was nothing he could do. He could not do anything. He couldn’t. He couldn’t…

“Rex!”

The voice was distant yet close. Pyra’s voice. Inside his head. Trying desperately to keep Rex focused. Not wanting him to falter.

“Don’t lose track of yourself, Rex!” Pyra called out. “Don’t lose yourself to fear or anger! Clear your mind and remember the Force!” Pyra’s plea resonated with something deep inside Rex. For some reason he couldn’t explain, her voice calmed him down. Removed all the fear and doubt from his mind. Or at least helped put him on course to do it.

Even as he struggled in the Inquisitor’s iron grip, Rex took a deep breath and focused his mind. He had an objective. He could not falter from it. And he had to find a way out of the Inquisitor’s grasp.

With his hands occupied, Rex’s only weapon left were his legs, so he used them for what they were worth. Needing a good place to kick, Rex brought his right leg swinging upwards and hit the Inquisitor in the groin. He knew it wouldn’t be as effective on her as it would’ve been on someone else, but it was a good enough distraction to make her falter just a bit. An injury was still an injury. Other than a slight grunt the Inquisitor seemed mostly unfazed, but her grip around Rex’s arm loosened just enough for him to tear it loose. With his hand freed, Rex quickly pulled away, pushing the Inquisitor’s lightsaber away from him and getting a slightly more comfortable distance.

“Tenacious, I’ll give you that,” the Inquisitor commented, growing frustrated with Rex’s insolence.

Not wasting time staring each other down, the Special Inquisitor trotted forward immediately, raising her lightsaber for a downward strike and bringing it down, forcing Rex into the defensive.

Thinking quickly, Rex realigned himself as he held back the Inquisitor’s lightsaber above him, changing his grip on his own blade. Rex switched from holding his blade at a left angle and moved it counter-clockwise into a right angle, pivoting around the Inquisitor in the process. After having turned his blade 180 degrees as he held back the Inquisitor, he gave another push to throw the Inquisitor’s uncomfortable grip off balance and then rushed past her, eager to get away from the duel and regroup with Addam and hopefully Pyra too. Not appreciating being twisted off balance like that, the Inquisitor levelled herself and quickly turned around, only to be met with something she hadn’t expected. She shouldn’t have dropped her rear guard like that.

An oomph and a thud as Addam smashed his baton across the Special Inquisitor’s face, striking like an uppercut and practically sending the Inquisitor flying. Addam had held back when the duel between the Inquisitor and Rex intensified, he knew the only way he could intervene was to get one lucky shot in whilst the Inquisitor was distracted and Rex was safe. Rex rushing past the Inquisitor had signalled that opportunity, as Addam in turn rushed towards her. And as Addam got his lucky hit off, the Special Inquisitor was hurled over the edge of the railing and into the pit. For a regular person, that might’ve been the end. But Addam had a funny feeling the Inquisitor would eventually shake that off. Still though, now was the time to advance.

…

[a few moments earlier]

As she was flung into the room, Brighid finally got her balance back as the militiaman ceased his relentless push and repositioned himself. He had been careful to not get stabbed by Brighid’s lightsaber, and had given his all to refuse any footing or opportunity to gather herself whilst he had pushed. Brighid was separated from the Special Inquisitor, and she knew she had to deal with these nuisances on her own now, whilst her lady had her own fight.

As Pyra followed after Minoth, she came to a halt next to him as the short hallway opened up into a larger room. This room too had the dim red lighting illuminating the place, giving it the same gloom as the rest of the facility. Allowing herself a glance at the newfound battlefield, Pyra saw long benches and tables, and service counters in one of the corners of the room. This must be the cafeteria where the prison staff had a bite to eat during lunch break. A few knocked over and half-empty bowls and cups implied some had been called from their break early to deal with the rebel attack, making the room luckily empty now. Empty, save for the three of them.

Pyra and Minoth both eyed Brighid cautiously, who in turn was eying them down right back, in spite of her closed shut eyelids. It was only a few brief moments that they all stared and collectively gathered their breaths again, but it felt much longer. Unprompted, Minoth suddenly pushed one of his own weapons into Pyra’s hands.

“Take it, you’ll need it,” he said matter-of-factly. Although Pyra hesitated for briefly as she registered his action, she took hold of the dagger-equipped blaster, one of the gunknives Minoth so proudly and fluently wielded. Energized, they could deflect a lightsaber, at least to some degree. Brighid simply scoffed at their choice of weaponry as she held her own lightsaber.

Deciding to break the standstill, Brighid immediately lunged at the duo, blade raised in her right hand for a downward diagonal slash. Swiftly dodging away from her assault, Pyra and Minoth both leaped to opposite ends. As the Force spirit brough her sword down and slashed at the ground, she continued her movement and moved in an instant towards Minoth’s direction. The experienced fighter that he was, Minoth simply continued his own movements, leaping backwards with no struggle or staggering at all, all the while firing from his blaster towards the Force spirit.

Brighid managed to easily dodge or deflect the blaster bolts Minoth send towards her, and as Minoth’s backwards retreat landed him atop of a dining table Brighid responded quickly by slicing downwards. With a thunk, the cut-off part fell to the floor. As much as Brighid wanted to continue the momentum now that Minoth was just about over the edge for just the slightest of moments, the sound of blaster bolts being fired behind her drew her attention. With a twirl, Brighid spun around and deflected the shots fired from Pyra. Wanting to seize the opening, Minoth acted quickly. He knew Brighid could easily deflect blaster bolts, so he had to get creative.

Still standing on the long dining table, Minoth fired a random blaster bolt towards nothing for the sake of the sound, and readily kicked an abandoned bowl of soup towards Brighid. The Force spirit responded initially as one would think, moving her hands to deflect a blaster bolt with her lightsaber. Instead, her crimson blade only ended up slicing through a bowl, with the contents of the bowl continuing the momentum and flying straight into her face. Slicing through liquid wasn’t as easy. A brief annoyed gasp as the liquid made contact with Brighid’s skin, the soup was by no means hot anymore but it was still a good enough surprise distraction. Pouncing on his opportunity, Minoth leaped forward and sliced downwards with his gunknife, the energized blades pushing down on the red lightsaber. Minoth’s lunge had made Brighid slightly stagger as their weapons impacted, and for the half-second she was open Pyra intended to act. Rushing forward hoping to assist Minoth, Pyra fired her blaster as she ran. Although partially pinned, Brighid was still able to reposition herself away from any incoming blaster bolt, letting them graze past her whilst Minoth desperately tried to keep her occupied as their weapons struggled against each other. As Pyra closed the distance and tried to go for a slashing attack, Brighid gave a brief Force push to get Minoth off of her and swiftly angled herself to meet Pyra’s weapon.

“It was foolish to separate from your counterpart,” Brighid taunted at Pyra. But small talk was not the priority right now. Minoth was quick to recover from the Force push and lunged forth, forcing Brighid further into a defensive position. Together, both Minoth and Pyra kept slashing and striking the gunknives towards Brighid, forcing her back as she tried to deflect the onslaught. When both Pyra and Minoth went for an overhead strike, Brighid caught both weapons above her head as she held her lightsaber firm. “And this move was also foolish,” Brighid confidently mumbled to herself as she loosened one hand from the grip on her lightsaber and sent a powerful Force push straight towards Pyra and Minoth, knocking the duo back.

Charging in an instant before either of her enemies had gotten back on their feet, Brighid allowed herself a feeling of sadistic joy thinking of the imminent demise of these rebels. And the fear, oh the fear. It was beginning to seep off of Pyra. As Brighid stood tall over the grounded Pyra, the younger Force spirit tried to raise her weapon to either deflect or fire a blast only to be met with a hard sideways swipe from the elder Force spirit. Minoth’s gunknife was knocked hard out of Pyra’s grasp. Pyra could only watch as Brighid’s figure loomed over her, fiery azure hair contrasted by the red light of her lightsaber, Brighid raised the weapon intending to plunge it straight down. As Brighid made her move, Pyra simply held her hands over herself, more as survival instincts than anything else, eyes closed shut and waiting for the impalement. But Pyra’s raised hands channelled just enough Force powers to momentarily halt Brighid’s downward thrust, briefly halting the momentum of the blade much to Brighid’s chagrin. That briefest of moments had been just enough of a delay, as Minoth had gotten himself moving properly. The Tornan militiaman made a lunge for his second weapon, all the while firing as much as he could towards Brighid. Minoth’s onslaught of blaster bolts forced Brighid into the defensive again, and allowed Pyra to quickly crawl away from immediate harms way. Reaching his second gunknife and rolling as he picked it up, Minoth continued his momentum getting himself up on both legs again and peltering Brighid with even more shots. The swiftness and efficiency of the man was starting to get to Brighid, feeling stray shots strafe just beside her body. But Minoth had exposed himself without even realizing, an opening Brighid welcomed.

Although Minoth had kept himself moving and hoped to run circles around Brighid, he had inadvertently positioned himself right next to the destroyed dining table, the part that had been sliced off from the larger table still resting on the floor. Seizing the moment, Brighid swiftly picked up the broken table with the Force and flung it straight onto Minoth, hitting his side hard.

Not even half a second afterwards, Brighid turned around to Pyra again, now on her legs but defenceless. Brighid lunged forward and Pyra could only hold her hands up in defence, though it didn’t do anything good as Brighid firmly grasped around Pyra’s throat and lifted her up. The initial shock of the choking hold pushed a lot of air out of Pyra’s mouth, and not much was getting back in. Changing her attention again, Brighid turned head to glance towards Minoth. The table had hit him hard but hadn’t knocked him out cold. So, she simply lifted up the table again and started pushing it against Minoth before he could get his balance back, pushing him back where he stood and eventually squeezing him against the wall. No getting out of there easily.

“You’re feisty,” Brighid commented as she faced Pyra again, voice now audibly annoyed, taking louder and longer breaths as exhaustion and frustration started to catch up. “But no matter, you’ll be done in soon enough. You, and your little friends.”

Pyra could only struggle for breaths in Brighid’s grasp, not sure what to do and growing more and more worried by the moment.

“Yes, you’re very scared right now, aren’t you?” Brighid rhetorically asked. “Like I said, you two shouldn’t have separated. You’re young, weak, inexperienced. What do you even know of the Force, the very thing that brings you into existence?” Brighid stared at Pyra for a moment, not really expecting an answer but still giving Pyra a little while to think about her words. “Did you really think you stood a chance against me? On what notion, that this suicide mission was the will of the Force and that you would simply win automatically? Pity you choose to think that way. Here you are, reeking of fear. I don’t see you winning anything anytime soon. Not you, not your gold-eyed counterpart, none of you.”

Pyra got to thinking about Rex. How was he doing without her support? Was he doing any better than she was?

“With any due luck,” Brighid continued. “My lady will knock some sense into that boy, make him see the error of his ways. Make him see that there is only one way for him to learn anything.” Brighid’s voice was down just about a whisper now, yet it was all Pyra could hear. “There is life for you in the Dark Side, it’s not too late yet.”

“Rex,” Pyra thought. “Rex.” She had to reach out to him. She had to connect with him. Together, in the Force, they would both be stronger. Closing her eyes to try and focus, an act Brighid only scoffed at as she held firm, Pyra tried to reach out.

It was strange. In her mind, it was almost as if Pyra could see with eyes that weren’t hers. And yet they were. A different point of view. Of someone else. Seen with her own eyes. She was seeing through Rex. Seeing his own struggle. The Special Inquisitor looming over him, taunting him, pinning him down and sowing her toxic words in his mind. She would not allow it. She had to use whatever strength she had to make sure Rex did not falter, for the sake of the both of them.

“Rex!” her mind’s voice said. Her words echoing in her own mind even though outside of it nothing was heard. But she knew the only person who needed them, would hear them. She felt it. Their resonance more powerful than anything else.

“Don’t lose track of yourself, Rex!” Pyra called out. “Don’t lose yourself to fear or anger! Clear your mind and remember the Force!” Every word of Pyra’s plea made Rex mentally stronger, and she felt his strength bounce back to her as well. She felt his mind clear, and she calmed herself in the process. They were two streams that flowed in perfect harmony down the same river.

“The Force truly is strong with you,” Brighid mumbled as she felt the waves in the Force all around her.

In an instant, Pyra opened her eyes again, full of life and fire, her expression so determined it was hard to tell she was being actively choked. Using the best weapon she had, Pyra raised her fist and delivered a square blow right into Brighid’s face, making her stagger back at the sudden attack and dropping Pyra from her grasp. Gasping for air, Pyra still felt ready for more but knew she had to end this quickly. Here and now, in some way or another. Getting back on her feet, Pyra felt herself draw a quick breath and focused her mind, and then with all her might reached out to deliver a Force push towards Brighid. Pyra’s lack of experience and Brighid not being completely out cold made it easier for the elder Force spirit to brace herself and withstand the brunt of the push, steeling her feet and only getting shoved back a little bit.

But by now Minoth had gotten himself freed from the table trapping him, and his adrenaline rush was overwriting any thought of fatigue. Sprinting forward with all the energy he had left in his body, Minoth aligned his feet and started twisting his body. After getting close enough, Minoth delivered a powerful roundhouse kick straight to the back of Brighid’s head. The Force spirit was knocked on the ground face first, and Pyra could’ve sworn for a moment she had seen Brighid’s actual eyes as she was knocked down.

With Brighid down for the count, Pyra gathered herself quickly.

“Let’s go, we gotta get back to the others,” she quickly said to Minoth and got to moving immediately, not waiting for an answer. Minoth gave a quick nod as she moved past him and followed after.

“You did remarkable work out there,” Minoth complimented, to which Pyra only shrugged and shook her head.

“You did the heavy lifting,” she responded. “This was a team effort, and she could’ve easily finished us both at any moment.”

“And yet you held your own too,” Minoth continued. “This is a story worth telling. Maybe I could write a play about this.”

Pyra only hoped the play would have a happy ending.

…

[just below middle level]

The sound of something other than blaster fire combat had taken all of Mythra’s attention. Behind the cover of some supply crates, her eyes had been transfixed on the battle she could see one level above her on the other side of the open room. Rex, Pyra, and her brother Addam, engaged in melee combat with someone else. Mythra knew who it was. Mythra knew of the imperial inquisitors, secretive as they had been. The primary Jedi hunters of the Empire. The limited rebel intel that existed on them had mostly dried up in recent time, but the odd word about some still surfaced. From what Mythra knew, this inquisitor, the Special Inquisitor, was an experienced military commander and deadly opponent. If the shouting from Nia didn’t occasionally force Mythra back to reality and to focus on the stormtroopers firing on them, she may have even forgotten to breathe at some point, that’s how transfixed she was about the fight she was witnessing, not eager in the slightest to actually see the outcome of it, fearing the worst.

But as the fight dragged on, Mythra started to become a bit more hopeful. Addam’s militia pushed back against the troopers and were practically besieging the central control room. Minoth assisted Pyra in separating the Special Inquisitor and her teammate. And although the Inquisitor seemed to easily handle both Addam and Rex, something turned the tables, and Addam managed to land a critical hit and knock out the Inquisitor. Seeing her friends safe and sound had made Mythra completely oblivious to the fact that Nia, Dromarch, and Perdido had pushed back the troopers and were headed for the stairs up to the next level. But her reassured smile quickly faded.

Another foresight vision. Brief and moving quickly. Addam wasn’t paying attention, for just a fraction of a second he was not paying attention. And it landed him several blaster shots in the back.

Mythra acted immediately. She didn’t know what to do, but she did it anyway. Rushing forward from her hiding spot, forced to stop by the guard rails, she shouted at the top of her lungs.

“ADDAM GET DOWN!”

It was as if Addam too acted on autopilot, following through with the warning before he even registered hearing it. Immediately dropping his feet and placing himself flat against the floor, holding onto Rex and dragging him down in the process to save them both. Blaster fire pelted the wall as they missed their target, and Addam was quick to look around as much of the area as he could, swiftly taking in any change of surroundings. Pulling himself up to a kneeling position, he gazed towards the central control room and saw a horrifying sight.

Death troopers. Armor black as the void of space. The most elite of soldiers the Empire could send. And now four of them were gunning down rebel troopers, both on even level and on floors further below, the aim of the death troopers much more precise than that of regular stormtroopers. Addam knew he had to act quickly. Getting a move on, he put away his stun baton and pulled his blaster rifle back out, moving as quickly as he could whilst crouched down along the railing.

“Put your glowstick away, Rex,” Addam said as Rex followed him. “Those guys will never let you into lightsaber range so don’t try it.” Heeding Addam’s command, Rex holstered his lightsaber and pulled his blaster back out. Allowing himself a backwards glance, Rex caught sight of Pyra and Minoth leaving out the same door they had pushed Brighid into. Rex only gave a stiff nod with his head to signal for the duo to join him and Addam in their caution. Pyra was quick and happy to join up with Rex again, whilst Minoth took a second to beat away at the door control panel, forcing it shut. Just another measure to keep Brighid away.

Mythra rushed to join up with the rest of her gang, only for them to be holed up at the bottom of the staircase. “Why aren’t we moving, the control room is right there,” she asked, a hint of frustration but not much.

“The death troopers have us pinned,” Dromarch responded. “The stairs form a bottleneck, we can’t get up there safely.”

“Well, we can’t stay here forever, can we?” Nia commented. “Oi, someone try and signal Rex on the other side, maybe his lot can distract the troopers.”

“How, with a whistle or something? Waving our hands?” Mythra asked.

“Everyone would hear a whistle, we gotta try and signal him subtly,” Nia responded.

“We don’t got time for subtle,” Perdido shot in. And, without waiting for a response, immediately aimed towards where Rex was and fired a round from one of his blasters. The blaster bolt striking the guard rail slightly startled Rex and brought his attention to where it had come from. Giving a few quick waves with her arm, Mythra and her group caught Rex’s attention and tried to signal what they needed, pointing upwards to the floor above them. Rex brought his gaze to the walkway straight across from himself, saw the death troopers holding down the position, and understood what they asked for. As Rex turned to relay the information to Addam, Nia turned towards Perdido to reprimand his techniques.

“Good you got his attention but you could’ve hit him you bloody oaf,” she scolded as she gave a light smack with the back of her hand towards him.

“Relax,” Perdido nonchalantly responded. “I was only roughly aiming.”

Addam thought for a moment how they’d defeat the death troopers. The area they were all in was vast and open, guard rails and stairs leading up to the next level being effectively the only protective cover. The connecting bridge the central control room was located on was much wider than other connecting bridges, but the area was swarmed with troopers. Allowing himself a glance backwards, rebel and militia soldiers filled the walkways behind him, having poured up from lower levels, but many were being gunned down quickly if they didn’t duck down in time. Death troopers were tough as nails, their armour shrugging off most shots before blaster fire could kill them. At least fire from regular, smaller blasters. His own rifle packed a punch in the right situation. A plan was beginning to take shape. Looking over to his squad further up the walkway, hiding behind stairs and guardrails, Addam managed to send a few hand signals and nods with his head, his crew understanding the message. Turning around, Addam gave further orders vocally to Minoth.

“Minoth, you and two others cover us,” he began. “And take three others from the group to focus on the troopers on the far side bottlenecking the stairs. Keep them busy and on the edge, and keep yourself alive too.” Addam’s orders were swift and straight to the point.

“Wait, are you seri-…” Minoth began, but he understood Addam’s mind was set. He would square up with death troopers, it was the only way to proceed. Minoth gave a stiff nod, then turned to gather his forces among the other militia present.

“Rex,” Addam began as he gripped firmly around his blaster. “Don’t be a hero.” Those words concerned Rex a whole lot. “Don’t be reckless,” he continued. “And most of all… Don’t let the Empire off easy if this whole shit goes south.”

Addam sprung into action immediately. All his soldiers on the other side who had been signalled acted as well. Minoth’s group got to work, and Rex was left for the briefest of moments dumbfounded as to what he was supposed to do. The stormtroopers were at first thrown off by the large group rush, but the death troopers held firm, their training making them not even flinch. But Addam aimed to quickly disorient them, took a lazy grip around his hoisted stun baton and lobbed it towards the nearest trooper. At the very same moment, a flashbang grenade was thrown by another militia soldier. The constant blaster bolts and multiple flying objects distracted the death trooper just enough for the flashbang to go off right next to him and overwhelm his armour systems. Physically shoving away stormtroopers as he ran past them, Addam closed the distance to the first death trooper and shoved the mouth of his blaster right into the trooper’s face, firing clean through with a powerful shot. By now Rex had gotten himself moving, and aimed his blaster towards the death trooper that was holding down the door to the central control room. Rex, alongside Pyra, was able to focus down the death trooper over surrounding stormtroopers, which in conjunction with the militia closing in allowed enough shots to pummel the trooper, pushing through his reinforced armour and mowing him down. Addam continued on, picking up his stun baton along the way and managing to snipe in a lucky shot on one of the death troopers bottlenecking the staircase, felling the third death trooper. By now, Mythra’s group had already gotten moving up the stairs, followed by other rebel soldiers who had congregated beneath. As Addam rushed for the last trooper, disoriented by the quick defeat of his squad mates and kept busy by the cover fire from across the other side, tried to realign himself for Addam’s assault. The death trooper switched grip on his blaster and rushed right back at Addam, understanding the imminent confrontation was a melee battle. Addam activated his stun baton as he ran, and heard himself growl slightly as he closed the distance. As the two came close enough, the trooper attempted an instant knockout swing with the butt of his rifle, but Addam’s more powerful weapon smacked it away with an energized blow. Addam quickly followed up with a full force right-to-left swing with his baton, sending the death trooper careening to the side, launched in a manner not too dissimilar to the Special Inquisitor. The trooper was sent across the guardrail and plummeted down far below.

“That was awesome, Addam!” he heard, turning to see Mythra emerge from the staircase followed by several others. Addam felt himself give a smile at the compliment, suddenly feeling his exhausted breath catching up to him.

Closer to the control room, Rex and Pyra were pushing in through the doorway alongside other militia members. As they stormed the room, soldiers who weren’t firing at troopers instantly launched themselves at various control panels, hoping to disable what they could of the facility and finally free the Tornans. Rex caught glimpse of a more rotund man in officer uniform scrambling his way out the other side of the room.

“There!” one of the militia soldiers exclaimed as he seemed to have found the master switch, flicking a button and in an instant, lights flared across the massive room. The yellow lights of the prison cell walls faded away as cells were all opened from central control. They did it! The Tornans were free! But that briefest moment of triumph was followed by words Rex dreaded to hear, yelled by the officer at the top of his lungs and carried by acoustics for the whole darn facility to hear.

“EXECUTE ALL PRISONERS NOW!”

…

Chapter Text

[Deep Red Station]

Her head was burning up with the sense of pain. Her body felt limp and weightless. Her mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. She didn’t know up from down, left from right, and had no idea where or even when she was. Then her eyes shot open again. The sensations had been present for only the briefest of seconds before her full focus was back to reality. She knew what was going on. She knew she was falling rapidly down, plummeting to a floor increasingly closing in. How inconvenient.

One level down. By now the Special Inquisitor had gotten her bearings back and understood what she had to do. Two levels down. The Special Inquisitor shifted herself in mid-air, and reached her free hand out. Managing to grab firm hold of the guard rail, she felt the g-force on her body as her steady arm grinded her fall to a halt. Because she had fallen headfirst, face aimed in the direction of the guardrails, her hand grabbing hold meant her body was bound to swing 180 degrees down and slam her back into the railing. She bent her knees and angled the soles of her feet to catch the brunt of the impact, slamming hard against the solid but preventing spinal injury of favour of just some shook legs. But her grasp on the guardrail was weak, and she let go. There was no point holding onto it any longer. Three levels down. The Special Inquisitor was in complete control of her fall and landing now. A few more levels down, and the Special Inquisitor landed hard on her feet on a connecting bridge, the sound of the impact echoing throughout. Crouched down as she was from landing, she lifted her head and confirmed her suspicion, she was surrounded by rebel soldiers. She had felt their fear at her sudden, unannounced arrival. This was good. The pain in her jaw, the anger at that kid, and the fear of these rebels. Blasters all pointed at her, she simply reignited her lightsaber and began the slaughter.

Captain Mavvik stood there frozen for a second. Falling from the sky and landing in the middle of his squad was none other than the imperial Special Inquisitor. The Duros captain had a very bad feeling about how this mission would go now, but he knew he could not falter. Not now. His whole unit pointed their blasters at the imperial, only for a second later to be answered with a red lightsaber cleaving through those unfortunate enough to have stood closest to her. With a swooping motion, the Inquisitor’s immediate vicinity was rid of rebels, but the remaining ones quickly got to firing their blasters.

Although confident in her skill, the Special Inquisitor knew better than to stay put in the middle of a sea of blasters. She had to spin and twist herself around so quickly to deflect blaster bolts, she barely got the chance to take in her surroundings to scout for an escape route. Barely. With another twist of her body, she sent a powerful Force push to those who had been to her front after her initial landing, and immediately afterwards leapt towards the rebels on the other side. A thrust, a slice, a stab, and a few cuts, and she quickly disposed of the rebel bunch whilst their comrades on the other side gathered their bearings. With the rebels cut down, and her coast clear enough, the Special Inquisitor decided it was better to climb and regroup with Brighid rather than continue killing rebels on lower levels. Attempting to reach out to her counterpart, she only received effectively radio silence mixed with hints of a headache.

“Dammit, Brighid. Get up,” the Special Inquisitor frustratingly thought to herself. “I need you with me.” Bounding up a set of stairs and catching the rebels on top off guard as she cut them down, the audible sound of a hard impact distracted her for a moment. Looking to the side over the railings on her left, she saw a death trooper mangled by the impact of a very long fall. Not much their training could’ve done to stop that. The next moment, yellow lights all across the massive room went out. The barriers keeping the Tornan prisoners locked in their cells were disabled. She suddenly felt herself a lot more watched, stared at. Snapping her neck back, the Inquisitor made eye-contact with the Tornans in the cell behind her. Their face told a myriad of stories in the blink of an eye. Amazement at the rebel success, immense dread at who stood before them, a burning desire to fight back against those who destroyed their homeworld. A desire to be free. There was defiance in their eyes. Rebellion. Then the words of warden Akros echoed throughout, his voice booming as his orders reverberated against the walls. An order to execute the prisoners, effective immediately.

Akros was a fool. Backed in a corner, doing whatever he could to fight back, wanting to turn any potential rebel victory as sour as possible. Not worth it. She had to get back up there. She had to get back to Brighid. She had to stop that Skywalker kid. The Special Inquisitor took her death glare off the Tornans in their cell and simply kept moving, sprinting towards the next set of stairs and leaping up. Climb. She had to climb.

…

[central level]

Damn it, why did she keep missing her shots? That damned fat officer. Running away like a coward after shouting that? Those words. Those words of his that sent terror through her being, and boiling hatred through her blood.

Mythra had wanted nothing more in that moment to shoot and kill that imperial officer. Not like when she had fired on stormtroopers to push the rebel momentum, this was a different feeling. This was very, very personal. And yet she kept missing. She fired her blaster but the shots just never hit home as the fat man scrambled away.

“Get back here,” Mythra growled between gritted teeth, barely even audible. “YOU GET BACK HERE!” she shouted, a lot more audibly. As much as Mythra wanted to simply hunt down that man and kill him, her steady march into danger was grinded to a sudden halt as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Snapping her head back, Mythra shot a cold and frustrated glare at whoever had tried to stop her. At her brother, Addam. Whose own golden eyes were only full of concern.

“Mythra, snap out of it,” he said, pulling her around so they properly faced each other, now both hands on her shoulders. But Mythra didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to lose focus right now of all times. She didn’t…

“Snap out of it, I said!” Addam shouted as he repeated himself. “We’ve got more important stuff to take care of now!” Addam’s concerning expression had turned more serious in an instant, his brow furrowing and his voice devoid of any wavering. “Don’t be fixated on that one guy, and instead look at what’s going on there!” He pointed upwards, demanding Mythra’s attention. True enough, she looked up towards the higher levels, and what she saw caused another tidal wave of emotions onto her.

Tornans rushing out of their now open cells, overwhelming the outnumbered stormtroopers. Even though they were unarmed, even though many of them were being gunned down, the Tornans fought tooth and nail, having nothing left to lose but lives they didn’t care about losing anymore. The number of rebels had just been bolstered more than tenfold.

It seemed Addam had gotten Mythra back on the right train of thought. She returned to look at Addam, her expression now more focused, serious, and determined to achieve their objective. To free their people. They both gave each other a brief nod before Addam let go.

“If you lot’s done, we gotta get back on track,” Nia Solo angrily shot in. “Remember, there’s another objective to reach, namely that damn shield generator up there.” She pointed up to the top of the room, directly above the control room. The outlines of another room was visible even from this distance. That must be where the power to the shield generator is operated from.

“Where’s Poppi, we need her up there ASAP,” Mythra said, trying to brew up a plan in her head for the motion forward.

“The droid with the Nopon?” Addam responded. “Probably down in the lower generator room keeping the rest of the facility in check. It’d take a while to bring em up here.”

“I’m not sneaking those two past that,” Nia commented as she leaned over the railing and pointed to a lower level. Curious, Mythra and Addam gazed to what she was pointing at, and saw a distinctive red light moving in between blaster bolts. The Special Inquisitor had shrugged off the fall and was busy carving a bloody hole in rebel troops as she pushed her way upwards.

“Not good,” Mythra bluntly stated as she tried to cook up a solution and plan forward. Another voice brought Mythra’s attention elsewhere.

“Princess, there you are.” It was the captain from Rendili, the overall leading officer of the ground operation. “The cells are open and Tornans are being evacuated en masse from the lower levels. But we gotta get that shield down pronto.”

“Where’s the fire?” Nia asked, noting the captain seemed more stressed than usual. Something couldn’t be right.

“Had a commlink chat with senator Organa and commander Akhos,” the captain began. “The star destroyer is back and running again. Moreover, the Golden Wind is all but finished. It took critical damage in the initial phase and hasn’t been able to fix them. Engines busted, hyperdrive broken, et cetera.”

“Then… we’ll need captain Perun to land. The Falcon can’t fit all these people,” Mythra said as she gave a general gesture to the masses of people moving about the massive room. “If the turbolasers haven’t been shut down… And the star destroyer active…” Mythra let out a frustrated sound as things were moving south quickly.

“There’s no way that old seppie ship can outlast a star destroyer,” Nia shot in, and she was right. The Blade of Fire could only last so long on its own before it’d be utterly overpowered.

Acting without warning, Addam pulled out a hologram projector, seemingly customized to some degree like all his other equipment, and activated it to speak. A hologram of a Hutt came up.

“Drizo, send in our fleet,” Addam ordered.

“We’re there already?” the Hutt hologram responded in Basic. “This is gonna hurt our wallets.”

“Your fleet?” Mythra queried as Addam put the projector away.

“Freighters, shuttles, a couple of fighters, we even found an old Clone Wars era acclamator,” Addam began. “Stuff scrambled together for this mission exactly. We initially planned to not bring em out until all cells had been emptied and the facility was essentially ours, so that we could make a quick extraction. Now though, they’ll back your lot up. For now.”

“That’ll hopefully buy some time,” the captain said, glad for the assist. “Our priority now should be to aim straight for the generator room up top, usher any unarmed Tornan civilians downwards to safety, and not get ourselves sliced in the back by a lightsaber on the way.”

With the words said, it was time for business. Mythra, Nia, and Dromarch all bolted for the nearest set of stairs leading to the next level. Addam rushed for the other side to lead his militia upwards on the other side, hoping to pincer in the top room. Perdido made himself busy covering for fleeing Tornans and ushering them downwards. It was an enormous mass of people, and the stairs leading down were narrow. Most also made an effort to guide the civilians away from the east half of levels and towards the west half, as the Special Inquisitor was making her way up the east. The handy work she had done previously with slicing off connecting bridges on the central level and hurling them downwards, dragging other bridges down with them, forced a lot of Tornans to funnel themselves across the larger central bridge, bottlenecking themselves for anyone shooting down from above. Luckily, most stormtroopers on the higher levels were busy trying to execute the prisoners as opposed to firing downwards. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing, actually.

As Mythra climbed upwards and fired upon any stormtrooper she saw, she was always welcomed with smiles and cheers from the Tornans. Her people were overwhelmed with joy at seeing their princess, and based on cheers she heard from the other side it seemed Addam was just as warmly welcomed. The rebels had been receiving cheers all the way up by Tornans whilst they were imprisoned, but now those free men and women could give more direct and sincere thanks too. Many unarmed civilians that rushed past Mythra and the rest to safety often tried to at least brush her shoulder and send her a grateful smile and word of thanks. It filled Mythra with a hope and determination that this would all be worth it. Torna would not be lost. Not today.

The path upwards was mostly clear, as the escaped prisoners had overpowered most of the stormtroopers on the upper levels. There was of course still some to clean up, but they were dealt with swiftly. Tornans often made sure to get out of the way of the advancing rebel troops as they fled downwards and the troops climbed. Many of the bolder and healthier civilians also made the daring decision to jump from one connecting bridge to the other, as very few of them actually lined up with other bridges above or below them, making a leap of faith possible. The Special Inquisitor also hadn’t been able to damage any of the bridge on the upper levels, making them plentiful. The climb up the upper half of levels went notably quicker than the lower half, and Mythra’s gang was already pretty much a stone toss away from the top room, just a few more levels. But by now she was close enough to see something was very wrong.

There was nothing connecting the top room to the walkways. No bridges or anything. It was practically suspended in midair, attached only directly to the ceiling itself.

“Guys, we’ve got a problem,” Mythra called out as she pointed. “How’re we supposed to get in there?”

“Huh, what?” Nia commented as she stopped in her tracks then went to take a closer look. “What the bloody hell is that all about,” she said, annoyed at this sudden halt to their progress. “Okay, no way across, there’s gotta be some solution to this, right?”

“Unless you can grow wings I don’t see how you can get across,” Dromarch commented.

Mythra took in the sights a bit more. Around the bottom of what seemed like a door frame were bulging protrusions, maybe a retractable bridge? Smart move to protect the room, perhaps. Sentry turret guns were also attached to the underside of the room and around the upper door frame, most likely mirrored on the other side, but they seemed to be deactivated. Tora and Poppi’s handiwork, Mythra assumed. Maybe not so handy, because just as Mythra observed them, the turret guns seemingly activated themselves in an instant, firing down in all directions. Screams and grunts of pain from above made Mythra aware that several Tornans were still on the last few upper floors. Maybe they had tried to come with their own plans on breaching the room, now punished for lingering. Mythra and her gang had to pull back from the guardrails themselves to get out of the line of fire, putting themselves close to the wall. Just then, Mythra’s attention moved to one of the staircases leading to the upper level. A man was rushing down followed by several others, all of them armed with stormtrooper weapons, and his face seemed to light up at the sight of her.

“Princess Mythra!” he exclaimed, rushing towards her and giving a practiced salute as he reached her. “Captain Onyx of the capitol royal guard and relief aid corps, at your service my lady!” He seemed to take great pride in saying these words and Mythra understood this was no ordinary civilian, but a man with military experience.

“At ease, captain” Mythra orderly told him, getting a joyful but nonetheless serious smile from the captain. “Is everything okay?”

“We overpowered the imperials and started guiding away those civilians unfit for combat,” Onyx began. “When the bridges to that upper room retracted, we knew they wanted to keep something away from us, so we got to planning how to reach it.”

“They power the shield generator from there,” Dromarch informed him. “If the shield stays up, we’re all trapped here.”

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do if there’s no way across?” Nia said, the frustration in her tone clear as day.

Any thought process was cut short, however, at the sudden onset of rumbling shaking the entire facility. What sounded like massive explosions outside sent vibrations throughout the very foundations of the floor they stood on.

“W-w-w-what the…?” Nia stuttered amidst the constant noise of the sudden rumbling, too shocked to even swear. The shaking and sound of explosions picked up more and more, until fire seemed to suddenly spew out from the shield generator room, engulfing its insides and hurling pieces of door frame and transparisteel glass and other stuff sent flying.

“I wager the shield is down now,” Mythra commented as she took it all in. But what the hell had happened?

…

[Corvette Golden Wind, asteroid surface outside prison facility]

Akhos was both thrilled to hear the Tornans had been rescued and concerned about how the rest of the mission would play out. Having shut off his commlink after conversing with the leading captain of the strike force alongside senator Organa, what use their busted ship even was good for anymore became an increasingly pressing question. The senator especially had spent a lot of time gazing out of the bridge windows at the space battle outside. Rebel crafts engaging in dogfights with TIE fighters. But now that the star destroyer was booting up again, its turbolasers put the White Lance and Blade of Fire in serious danger.

The sudden beeps from one of the radar systems picking up spacecraft got the attention of everyone on board, and Akhos rushed over to take a glance.

“More ships arriving from hyperspace,” he informed. “Did we call for reinforcements?” The commlink with the ground force captain activated again as the captain relayed information. Apparently these were allies of the Tornan militia that had infiltrated the prison. But with the shield up, there was no way for them to land. That was when Bail Organa dropped his hands from their folded position, having been in deep thought and finally reached a solution.

“Everyone have to get off the ship. We need to empty this vessel immediately.” The senator spoke quick and firm, his expression serious.

“What are you planning, senator?” Akhos asked, although he all but knew for certain what the senator had in mind. The shield needed to go down now. There was no time to waste. They couldn’t stall or wait for the ground force.

“This ship is lost,” Bail Organa began. “Its hyperdrive is broken, we can’t make use of it to get away. Best course of action is to make way for captain Perun and the Tornan militia fleet.”

“Make way,” Akhos began. “By removing this ship from the equation. By…”

“A suicide mission, yeah,” Organa responded. “The turrets and engines are still operable enough to make it up to the shield emitter and destroy it. Although the remaining turbolasers up there would make short process of the ship during that time.”

“Well, you all heard the senator,” Akhos called out. “Empty the ship, this is now a flying bomb and we need everyone off. Contact captain Perun, make sure no civilians will be in the way of imminent debris.” Akhos stopped for a moment, his mind working. “But senator, who will…?”

“The captain goes down with the ship.” Everyone turned their attention to the official captain of the ship, captain Brudill, a man with years of experience under his belt. “If one man and one ship can be exchanged to save what remains of Torna, I’ll gladly take that role.”

“Captain, you…” Bail Organa began, before stopping his words and giving a firm nod. “You are a brave soul, the Alliance is grateful to have had you.”

“Alright, now get off my ship, all of you,” captain Brudill chuckled as he gave a salute.

As the ship emptied, Akhos ran to the front door of the prison complex as he saw civilians starting to emerge. Waving his hands wide to catch their attention, he started to organize their unorganized escape. “Get your weakest to the freighter,” Akhos called out as he pointed one arm towards the Millennium Falcon. “The rest of you stay put inside, debris could start raining at any moment.”

With help from the rest of the evacuated crew, the most injured or sick civilians were quickly brought to the Falcon for medical attention, whilst the rest stayed under cover. Tense and somewhat upset that they were back to being herded into a confined space, but understanding that a battle was still going on all around them.

As the Golden Wind rose up from the asteroid surface with whatever thrust it had left, captain Brudill sat in the command chair atop the bridge and stared down his target. The shield emitter on the very top of the prison facility. As the ship rose and got closer and closer, the last turbolaser turrets turned the ominous glare of their barrels towards the rebel vessel. The last of the exterior defences of the prison.

“C’mon, you bastards. Show me what you got.” Brudill mumbled to himself. True enough, the turrets started pelting the ship with turbolaser fire, shaking the entire vessel. The sound of explosions and turbulence they caused unsteadied the captain for a brief moment before his focus became firm again. “Alright girl, let’s show em there’s still fire in you,” he mumbled to his ship. The corvette’s own laser turrets started firing away, blasting the source of the shield rays. Their heavy armouring would take some time getting through, but it would happen eventually. Unless the ship gave way first.

Another massive explosion shook the ship, and its turrets died down. Looking over a damage report diagram, Brudill concluded that sheer force of willpower was the only thing keeping the ship afloat at the moment. More explosions, control panels sparking up into flame, wall and roof tiles falling down, sparks flying everywhere.

“Come on, one last push,” Brudill exclaimed, taking firm hold of ship controls as he aimed for one last glorious deed. Rising quickly one last time whilst there was still push in the engines, and redirecting all available power to the rear engines to give a powerful push. Even as the turbolasers kept firing and tearing away at the ship, the Golden Wind dutifully charged forth. In a storm of explosive fire, the face of the bridge rammed the tower peak, the destroying the shield emitter, generator, and just about everything else in the immediate vicinity. As fire engulfed the top of the prison tower, hunks of charred hull fell down hard on the asteroid surface and the great shield surrounding the area flickered before dying completely.

“Captain Brudill has done us a great service, let his sacrifice not be in vain,” Captain Perun said over commlink with Bail Organa as he watched the White Lance move to land. Starfighters were diligently protecting the corvette as it made its way down, and the senator noticed the old Republic-era acclamator the militia had brought, by far their largest ship, making itself a nuisance for the star destroyer. Seems like they were very much willing to sacrifice a vital ship too if it meant giving time to the ground evacuation. Now they just had to make sure the Tornans all got onto a ship.

…

[prison interior]

“Come on everyone, hurry up but no pushing.” Rex and Pyra made themselves busy ushering Tornans in the right directions as they fled down from the upper levels. Stormtroopers were still filing in from various corridors that had avoided the main fighting, taking up positions behind stairwells and higher bridges, filling in the spaces as the rebels pulled back. There was still a danger hanging over everyone. By now the rebels that fought continued to fight imperials was just doing it to cover the Tornans, the offensive push had turned to a defensive retreat.

The fire that had erupted from the top of the room was apparently an indication that the outer shield was down, which made getting all the civilians out all the more pressuring. But in the back of Rex’s mind, he knew one serious fight was still awaiting him. Actually, no, it wasn’t waiting. It was actively hunting him down. The Special Inquisitor was still kicking, climbing the levels and carving her way through whatever resistance she faced. Rex desperately did not want to face her again so soon, yet he probably had no choice.

Running alongside the civilians as they descended, Rex’s journey down was abruptly cut short by something that could’ve cut him short. Without warning, a sudden bright red flashed before him and plunged itself into the wall to his right. The lightsaber of the Special Inquisitor was protruding from the wall like the most vicious of tree branches, having miraculously not directly hit anyone, though it grinded the evacuating advance to a brief halt. Gazing across to the east side of the room, Rex locked eyes with the Special Inquisitor again, her gaze ice cold yet burning up with rage. One foot leaning against the guardrail, she was already prepared to leap across to Rex’s side. A distinct azure colour from above caught his attention, and Rex noticed Brighid on a bridge just a level above, lightsaber ignited and teeth gritted. The Special Inquisitor suddenly leapt across the gap, and Brighid effortlessly threw her blade towards her partner, who smoothly caught it midair without even looking.

By now, Pyra had dragged the red inquisitor lightsaber out of the wall and deactivated, before pulling on Rex’s shoulder and urging him to just run. Although Rex wanted to fight, it seemed others were there to save him as well this time.

“Go, we’ll hold em off.” Rex was perplexed as captain Mavvik and several of his commandos rushed past him and aimed their blasters at the Special Inquisitor as she landed. “Now, that’s an order!” the Duros captain reiterated, an order which Rex heeded as he rushed for the next set of stairs with the tail end of the evacuating civilians.

Mavvik’s squad aimed their blasters at the Special Inquisitor, who in turn only stared them down as she firmly held onto her lightsaber with both hands. The moment they stared firing, she acted as well.

Rushing forward, a bursting flash of red filled the area as the Inquisitor’s crimson blade deflected the red blaster bolts of the rebels. A wide twirl of her blade, then another as she sliced across the abdomen of one rebel. Leaping from one to the other, she swung her lightsaber as cut a blaster in half before continuing the motion slicing across another rebel from leg to shoulder. By now the other rebels had finally processed how their comrades were being carved to pieces and tried to react properly to it. One attempted to switch the grip on their rifle to a melee pose and deliver the butt end across the Inquisitor’s chin, but she easily avoided it as she leaned backwards and almost casually cut across the rebel’s chest.

A rebel from further back tried to throw a thermal detonator towards the Inquisitor, trying to time it perfectly so that it exploded just after it passed her. Would’ve provided an ideal opening, but the Special Inquisitor didn’t even bother letting it catch her eyes. Using the Force, Brighid had grabbed the explosive in mid-air and flung it away, only bringing a brief pause to her rather casual stroll down the stairs from the level above.

When a trio of suicidals charged the Inquisitor, she knew for a brief moment they’d have her on edge even if only a brief second. The first one was cut down in a blink, the second one had tried to fire only for his blasts to be deflected by the cutting motion, followed by a brief moment where his elbow collided with her own before she sliced across the entire length of his body. The third one was able to utilize the tiniest of openings to deliver an upward swing attack using his rifle as a club before raising a smaller pistol and attempt to shoot her in the face. How unlucky his second motion was too slow, as the Inquisitor swung her lightsaber across both his arms, releasing them from the rest of the rebel scum’s body, continuing the motion across his throat before he realized he had been unarmed.

Having watched several of his squad mates get cut down, captain Mavvik allowed himself a brief glance down and saw the Tornan civilians huddling around the central elevator down to the bottom. They must be the only ones left who hadn’t taken one of the longer stairwell corridors down to the ground floor of the facility. Perhaps a quarter of everyone gathered were rebel soldiers, and maybe one or more trips with the elevator would get everyone out. They were so close to victory.

“Pull back!” Mavvik shouted. Even if it would only make the Inquisitor have to take a few more steps before killing them, it could slow her down by a fraction, and every second counted. “Protect the civilians!” Even as Mavvik shouted to his troops and made sure they complied, his own body stopped moving as a red glare filled his vision.

“Grrnnkh!” the captain grunted as he looked down and saw the Inquisitor’s blade buried hilt deep in his chest. He lifted his eyes and stared valiantly and unflinchingly into the Special Inquisitor’s cold, indifferent gaze. It felt like an eternity, but it was probably over after less than a second.

“Captain!” one of the rebel soldiers shouted. The Special Inquisitor’s eyes flickered towards said rebel as she pulled out her lightsaber from the dead Duro. Before she could act, however, the motion of a dark shape moving towards her forced her attention elsewhere. She knew that dark shape. She had seen things like that before, years ago.

Leaping through the air in a summersault, the commando droid Bee-Ex aimed straight for the Inquisitor with its vibroblade, missing as she pulled back but instantly continuing its motion rolling forward and realigning into a standing position. For an organic, such a flawless motion would’ve taken a lot of practice. For Bee-Ex, it was simple programming. From its standing position, the droid grabbed its blaster and fired three quick shots in succession, tossing the blaster aside right afterwards before the second bolt had even been deflected by the Inquisitor’s lightsaber. Bee-Ex lunged forward with its blade, to which the Inquisitor simply sidestepped out of the way before continuing her motion into a twirl around, aiming to slice the droid across its back and finish it off. But the commando droid was quick to put itself out of reach by dodging forward, before stopping its motion and turning back again. Rushing forward again, Bee-Ex aimed for an upward diagonal slice, the Inquisitor having to continue the motion she had already began to dodge away from it. Lifting her lightsaber high and bringing it hard down, she only hit guardrail as the commando droid pivoted to her side and attempted a stab into the left side of her abdomen. Only with a fast backstep could the Special Inquisitor put herself out of range, bringing her lightsaber with her in a downward slice towards the droid only for it to leap above her and out of range. As the droid landed, weapon firm in its mechanical grasp, the Special Inquisitor copied its previous attack with an upward slice. Again, the droid simply dodge away from it and tried to counter with its own attack, only for the Inquisitor to dodge that as well.

“Bee-Ex, get outta there!” one of the rebels shouted to their droid comrade, but the droid ignored it. The Special Inquisitor was getting sick of fighting this droid, and wanted it done with now. Pivoting back a handful of quick steps, perhaps more so than the droid had anticipated after she dodged its attack, the Inquisitor focused for a brief moment and used the Force to pull the droid towards her. For all its programmed effectiveness, it was helpless in her grasp now. Plunging her lightsaber straight into the center of its body, the Special Inquisitor’s victory in the duel proved to be slightly bittersweet. Glancing to her left, she saw the droid had used the unexpected momentum to drive its vibroblade into her shoulder area. Didn’t hit anything important, but it was an inconvenience nonetheless. A nasty wound that would need serious treatment, but nothing fatal. Only grunting in pain as she gave an annoyed glance at the droid’s flickering photoreceptors, she was ready for this clanker to just die already.

“Prioritize… the mission,” the droid let out as its voice faded, one last call to its comrades as they made their escape. In the process, the droid had lifted its free hand and brought it hard down on the Inquisitor’s right wrist, hoping to squeeze her hand between its own fist and her lightsaber hilt. With its last power spent, the droid died down and the Special Inquisitor pulled her lightsaber from it, feeling her hand sting with pain, but it was probably just minor bruises and mild fractures the droid had done. That pain would only fuel her.

“Let’s finish this,” Brighid said as she walked up to her partner, laying a hand gently on the Inquisitor’s injured shoulder, not caring about the blood soaking up in her uniform for the moment.

“Agreed,” the Special Inquisitor responded. With that, the duo gazed down to the bottom floor and leapt in unison across the guard railing, landing hard on the ground in front of the pack of frightened civilians and terrified soldiers. This was the last batch that needed to use the elevator, they were so close to victory now.

The rebels all opened fire at the Inquisitor and Brighid, whom both simply gracefully moved their way through the oncoming fire as the Inquisitor deflected the blaster bolts with her lightsaber. Among the rebel crowd, Brighid spotted Pyra, hands still clasped around the deactivated second lightsaber of the Inquisitor. Acting immediately, Brighid pulled the hilt out of Pyra’s grasp and into her own hand with the Force. It was nice for the blade to be back in proper hands. By the time the lightsaber was ignited, the elevator got a move on and descended downwards, its speed leaving no time for goodbyes as the floor hatch closed after it.

Strutting over the closed hatch, the Special Inquisitor and Brighid didn’t even give each other a glance, they both knew the course of action. In an instant, the duo plunged their lightsabers into the floor and began carving a hole. A few seconds later, after both had made half a circle of their own, they lifted their lightsabers and pushed hard with the Force, forcing the freed piece of hatch to plummet down and make way for the two. One after another, the Special Inquisitor and Brighid stepped down through the open hole and plunged down the elevator shaft.

At the bottom of the elevator shaft, Rex and Pyra were both busy hurrying along civilians, trying to get them out as quickly as possible. “Come on, people, hurry up!” he shouted without trying to sound desperate or angry. What the civilians needed was a level-headed person guiding them along.

The heavy thunk of an object hitting the floor unnerved Rex, and following sight of the Special Inquisitor and Brighid only amplified the feeling. The look in her eyes could only be described as when a hunter stares down its prey.

“I don’t think we can shake her off anymore,” Pyra nervously said to Rex, getting only a nod in response. Grabbing hold of his father’s lightsaber, Rex ignited the blue beam and readied himself for another fight as the last Tornans fled. To Rex’s relief, several other rebel soldiers came to back him up, taking aim at the Inquisitor and Brighid to both assist their comrade and cover the civilians.

Before anyone could make a motion, the door on the far end of the room, opposite of where Rex stood, opened up and revealed even more rebels and Tornans. Several Tornans who had taken the longer way down, through the very same corridors Rex’s group had first met Addam. Rex saw familiar faces in the newly arrived group even as the civilians were ushered around the elevator and out of the room. Addam, Mythra, Nia, Dromarch, and several others he had seen among Addam’s militia. Suddenly finding herself aimed at from two sides, the Inquisitor glanced around slowly, taking in her surroundings and all the rebels with weapons in hand.

“Easy now, this doesn’t have to get ugly,” Rex gently said, lowering his lightsaber and holding out one hand as a sort attempt at calming the situation. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t preach to me, boy,” the Special Inquisitor coldly responded. “I will not stand your virtue signalling.”

“You’re very surrounded,” Addam commented as he unholstered both his blaster and his stun baton, activating the latter as he aimed with the former. Behind him, Mythra and Nia also aimed with their own blasters, and Dromarch let out a low, rumbling growl.

Even as the Special Inquisitor looked about the place, Brighid always made sure to look in her opposite direction, neither letting their backs stand unchecked. Locking eyes with Rex for a brief moment, she saw something else in his eyes than anyone else’s. Everyone else was scared or angry, but his eyes had a more pleading look to them. Like he truly wanted to avoid this confrontation and prevent further bloodshed. A bit too late for such thinking.

Addam was the first to break the stance and charged. His rush was followed by a wave of blaster bolts from both ends of the room, the Special Inquisitor meeting his stun baton with her own lightsaber as Brighid moved to cover her back from blaster bolts. Rex rushed forward too, hoping to assist Addam.

“Get out of here, all of you!” Addam commanded his men, who promptly did as ordered, ushering other rebel soldiers along with them too to empty the room. With a heavy swing from his baton, Addam managed to push both his weapon and the Inquisitor’s high into the air, pivoting back immediately afterwards to make way for Dromarch. The large tiger lunged forward and pushed the Inquisitor to the ground, pushing a powerful paw onto her sword arm to keep it in place. Turning to aid her companion, Brighid tried to swing her lightsaber down onto Dromarch only for Rex to slide his own lightsaber in the way and push the Force spirit away.

“Why are you so insistent on capturing me?” Rex asked out loud, tone a mixture of frustration, tiredness, and genuine questioning. Force pushing the great white tiger off of her, the Special Inquisitor pulled herself up and had her attempted strike at Rex’s back stopped by Addam’s baton.

“Because they’re my orders, you brat,” the Inquisitor responded matter-of-factly, though quite audibly frustrated by everything up until this point. “I do as I’m ordered to do!”

“You sound no better than a droid,” Addam commented as he pushed the Inquisitor away, whilst Rex sidestepped away from Brighid’s attempted strike and tossed his lightsaber towards Pyra. Grabbing onto the hilt, Pyra gave a downward slash towards Brighid, whom simply twirled forward and away from it. Rex, Pyra, and Addam now stood side-by-side, facing towards the Special Inquisitor and Brighid. Dromarch had made his way off the elevator platform where the duel was taking place, standing next to Mythra by the entrance they had come out of. “As a matter of fact,” Addam continued from his previous statement. “You’re just a glorified tool.” His attempt as insulting seemed to backfire.

“I AM a tool, correct!” the Special Inquisitor boldly exclaimed in response. “A tool of the Empire to be used to bring about order in this galaxy the likes of you are only plunging further into chaos!”

“Does genocide look like order?” Pyra rhetorically asked, alluding to the Tornans.

“Is being a tool used to bring suffering everything you want in life?” Rex exclaimed. “Is this truly what you want?” Why was his words making the Special Inquisitor waver in her thoughts, even if only for a moment?

“Haven’t you ever felt the pain of what your actions bring to others, and thought them wrong?” Pyra asked. “Are you that out of tune with the Force?” What a stupid question, she was perfectly in tune. The Force was a means to an end, something that would give her power and make her a valuable asset. Going with the flow of it only led to ruin. “You’re tearing yourself apart like this!” Pyra shouted. She wasn’t asking or wondering or anything, she was stating a fact. But why? It was only their incessant shouting that was tearing at her. Their ceaseless… Questioning. You don’t question the status quo. You just don’t…

 “I know my place,” the Special Inquisitor grumbled. “You do not question your place.” Her voice was wavering. “You children simply don’t understand…” Her low tone turned to a shout. “You don’t survive by questioning!” Her voice was sounding almost desperate and accusing. “You do what needs to be done no matter what because if you at least survive then to hell with everything else! I do not care about the consequences of my actions upon others! I know what I am doing! And I know why I am doing it! So just shut up already!” The cracks in her voice convinced Rex that she wasn’t even convincing herself. Even after all this time. All these years. He looked at her for a moment, a mixture of pity and worrying in his eyes.

“Its not too late to let go of those thoughts,” he said plainly, his words like a vocal gesture of an outstretched hand. It was first now the Special Inquisitor realized how ragged her breathing was sounding.

“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” Mythra commented from the other side. “Addam, get em off!” Confused by Mythra’s words and even more so at Addam dragging both of them off the elevator floor, Rex and Pyra glanced towards the Special Inquisitor and Brighid as Mythra slammed her hand down on some buttons on the elevator control panel. In an instant, the elevator flung itself back up again. “Let’s go!” Mythra said as she rushed out of the room closely followed by Dromarch and Addam, Rex and Pyra exchanging brief looks with each other before following suit.

Mythra and the others made their way onto the dusty asteroid surface outside the facility, but weren’t exactly met with a breath of fresh air. “I think the artificial atmosphere is fizzling out,” Mythra noted, feeling the air was much thinner than when they first landed. Perhaps a lot more than just the shield generator was damaged previously. The sound of a large explosion above drew their attention, where they all saw the old acclamator Addam mentioned burst into flame and blow up.

“Thank you,” Addam softly whispered as he gave a brief salute to whomever it was that had been aboard that thing. “Right, we won’t have much more cover, let’s get outta here.”

Heeding Addam’s words, everyone scrambled off to their designated ships. Rex and Pyra found their x-wing and jumped into the cockpit. The last few Tornan civilians were boarded onto different freighters, and they all took off. Mythra glanced towards the Millennium Falcon where Dromarch rushed off to, and the corvette behind it. Captain Perun’s corvette, the White Lance. Addam ran off to a ship of his own, an imperial transport shuttle by the looks of it. His team must’ve snuck into the prison through cargo containers.

“W-wait,” Mythra shouted after Addam, but he barely slowed down.

“Words for later,” he shouted back, only giving half a glance back before continuing onward.

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” Mythra felt hand on her shoulder and gazed over to see Nia Solo. “It’s over now, we’ve won, save your words for later.” Mythra only gave a partially distraught glance back, her eyes flickering towards Addam’s direction before Nia grasped more firmly around her shoulder. “its not goodbye, not yet! We’re all carrying civilians, gotta coordinate relocating them and stuff, yeah? So just pull yourself together and get a move on.” With that, Nia let go and rushed back to her ship. Mythra gazed at her a few moments, glancing back to watch Addam’s ship take off as well. “Don’t make me leave yer royal arse behind!” Nia shouted as she boarded the Falcon’s ramp. There was that snarky attitude again, Mythra had wondered for a moment where it had gone. Running after the smuggler back to the Falcon, Mythra leaped onto the boarding ramp and the ship lifted off from the asteroid surface.

Making her way to the cockpit through the thoroughly overcrowded ship, Mythra leaned over one of the pilot seats where Nia and Dromarch were hot at work getting them away.

“Alright folks, let’s get the hell outta here,” Nia announced before making the jump into hyperspace.

Back on the ground, the Special Inquisitor saw the plethora of rebel ships escape, and felt disappointed at how the Empire could let this happen. From the very same landing pad she had first arrived on, where her shuttle luckily still stood, the Inquisitor knew the report on this matter would not be received kindly.

“M-my ladies…” a panting voice behind her said, to which the Special Inquisitor and Brighid turned to see warden Akros run towards them. “You are okay, that is good. That is- Argkh!” His voice cut short as the Inquisitor grabbed hold of his neck through the Force. Lifting the fat man up and keeping him suspended in midair, she felt he was due one last reprimand.

“These security systems are far from the state-of-the-art, they should’ve been, warden,” she bluntly told him, not caring about his ragged breaths.

“But don’t worry,” Brighid continued, strutting towards the suspended man. “Your future career will not be impeded by this. Because it ends today.” With that, Brighid plunged her lightsaber into the warden, killing him instantly. The Special Inquisitor then simply tossed his corpse down the ramparts, plunging to the ground below.

“We’re done here,” the Inquisitor said, turning heel and marching straight for the shuttle. Pulling out a communicator, she made a call up to her star destroyer. “Captain Patroka, I’m coming up. This has been a very disappointing day.”

…

[somewhere in space]

“What’s our status report, rusty?” Aboard the bridge of the Blade of Fire, admiral Newt was eager to hear the results of the battle they had all been in.

“Resounding success, if at sizable costs,” general Stirge responded, the super tactical droid having quickly tallied and calculated the overall outcome. “Thousands of Tornan civilians successfully extracted. The third-party arrival proved instrumental in obtaining enough space to transport everyone. Heavy military losses, one corvette and several starfighters were destroyed. The shields on our frigate have been fried beyond repair, you really pushed them to their limit. From what I’ve been informed, the acclamator of the militia was only operated by a barebones skeleton crew, so minimal losses there. Our soldiers on the ground took heavy losses, this was anticipated. My battle analysis confirms the heaviest losses started amassing after the prison cells were deactivated. Thankfully the number of lost soldiers were quickly replaced by Tornan volunteer fighters taking up arms. This has been a costly battle but ultimately triumphant for the rebellion. But this ship is in a damaged state, you must be careful admiral.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Newt responded. “No battle frontlines for this one. We can use it a communications ship for the time being, and I’ll personally see to repairs and upgrades. We retrofitted the Rebel One, no reason another old seppie ship can’t have a similar treatment. Now put me on the line with those guys down in the hangar, got info for them too.”

Down in the hangar of the old separatist ship, the atmosphere was crowded but full of cheers and tears of joy. Friends and loved ones embracing after escaping certain death. Comrades patting each other on the back after a daring mission. Around the Millennium Falcon stood Rex, Pyra, Mythra, Nia, Dromarch, Tora, Poppi, and R2-D5, all exchanging praise to each other for their amazing work. Taking in the surroundings, Rex couldn’t help but smile at seeing everyone so relieved and happy. He saw Crossette hurrying around with medical supplies for those who needed them, smile bright and fiery as ever. He saw Akhos and Obrona tightly embrace each other. He saw senator Bail Organa personally speaking with several Tornans and making sure they were alright. And he saw Addam, flanked by Minoth and Perdido, making their way over to his own group. At the sight of him, Mythra simply rushed forward and embraced her brother in a large hug. Rex was very glad to see this family reunited. After being let go, Addam strolled over to Rex and Pyra, giving them both pats on the shoulder.

“You two did good out there,” he complimented. “I heard a lot about the Jedi growing up, saw some of em when I was very little. You two got a lot to live up to.” Those words might’ve been imposing but there was nothing but cheer and joy in his tone.

“Solo,” Perdido called out, the tall, four-armed alien strutting over to the smuggler captain. Dromarch gave a wary look but kept calm. “Was nice catching up to you.”

“Same to you,” Nia responded, only halfway bluffing.

“Bana’s still hot on your head though,” the bounty hunter continued. “And I go where the money is.” Nia’s eyes gave a warning glance, as if to tell the bounty hunter to be careful with his words. “This job here, its done. Me and the rest of the bounty hunters they hired will be getting out of your hair for now. But…” A brief silence. “The next time the two of us meet, it probably won’t be under as friendly terms.”

“I’ll remember that,” Nia responded bluntly. Perdido nodded and began leaving, walking towards another group who seemed to be ready to board their ship and take off. “Hey,” Nia called out, getting a glance back from Perdido. “You take care.” Again, Perdido nodded, a glint in his eyes as he turned and left.

The sound of mechanical footsteps brought the gang’s attention to the approaching general Stirge, the droid stopping just as he reached Addam and Mythra.

“I thought you two would be best appropriate for this information,” the droid began. “There is a world which has been designated safe for the Tornan refugees. The Alliance High Command have taken extensive precautions to keep it as secret as possible, even I do not know the coordinates, but we will make a jump to it soon enough. It will be a new home for the people of Torna.”

“I suppose that’s my que to leave,” Addam said. “Wouldn’t want my lot to expose your secret.”

“What?” Mythra responded, perplexed at Addam’s words. “No no no, I just got you back! And now you’re leaving? There’s still a fight to be had!”

“I know that,” Addam began. “And I have to fight it my way. Our way, for Torna.”

“I don’t understand,” Rex chimed in. “Why can’t you continue your fight with the rest of us?”

“Our way of fighting is a bit more dirty, I’m sure you recall that being mentioned,” Addam responded. “The Tornans are safe, but we’re off to make the Empire bleed a lot more. We gave em a sucker punch today, but stopping at a blue eye ain’t gonna cut it.” Addam paused for a moment, glancing about at his men strewn about the hangar, giving a nod to Minoth as the two made eye contact, before continuing. “We all have something personal the Empire needs to pay for. Not saying the Alliance folk don’t, but you’ve got your way to fight the war, and we’ve got ours.”

“But what about all of them,” Mythra asked, gesturing to the masses of people around the room. To the Tornans. “You’re father’s son, and our people need a leader now more than ever.”

“I’m just a bastard,” Addam chuckled. “I was never in line. And if our people need a leader, then I’m looking at a darn good one right now.”

“Wha-” Mythra only let out a sound of how baffled she was.

“You’re the legacy of house Origo,” Addam continued. “You’re the one who’ll carry our people into the future. But me and my lot? The battlefield, the dirty and bloody battlefield, is where we’re needed. We’re continuing the battle in our way, living on to fight on.”

Taking a moment to process his words, Mythra slowly understood. Addam had his way of dealing with things, he always had. And Mythra had a mantle to fill. She understood that now even more than before.

“Alright,” she said, voice low but her tone firm. She had to step up for this. And she would.

After another tight hug, Addam and Mythra parted ways. Waving goodbye to her brother, to the sibling she had looked up to. Even though they didn’t have the same mother, he had always been family to her. And now he was off to make the Empire pay dearly for what they had done to Torna.

Watching the various different ships of Torna’s Finest take off, leaving behind those they didn’t need anymore, Mythra felt a tear roll down her face, but she quickly wiped it away.

“So,” Nia began. “What about our lot? What’s next for us?”

“The Alliance is preparing for a large-scale push into the Mid Rim,” Mythra began, getting down to business. “A proper military assault. We’re gaining traction in the Outer Rim, its time to use that momentum.”

“Do we have anywhere to replace Yavin 4 yet?” Rex asked, knowing a proper military headquarters was a necessity.

“A few places for space stations to host the fleet is being looked into,” Mythra responded. Glancing out the large hangar door, the group saw the stars outside elongate and streaks of white and blue fill the entire view. They had entered hyperspace was on route to this new safeworld. “But for now, let’s help the people settle into their new homes. Let’s help establish New Torna.”

…

The End of The Years In-Between Part 1

Chapter Text

Save for the heavy breathing, the conference room was empty and quiet. Too quiet for too long. It was infuriating to wait like this.

The sound of doors opening finally broke the silence.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, was a bitch to find the right room, ha.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe whatever you want, one thing’s for certain though. You’re getting your little military unit approved from up high.”

A data pad was placed on the table and sent down for him to pick up. Detailed information on the screen revealed everything he needed. Good information, an infuriating information.

“Tagge?”

“Grand General Tagge, yes. The master’s still pissed off at your performance on Yavin, and Tagge was the only one who saw the rebels for the threat they were back then and voiced his opinion on it. You and everyone else was too stubborn to realize how right he was. So yes, Tagge’s getting rewarded with a promotion, AND command over Death Squadron.”

“It was MY idea.”

“AND you need to prove yourself still worthy of the trust the Emperor puts in you, Jin.”

The Sith Lord felt himself poked hard in the chest, even as he looked down he was reminded of his place. And of his failures.

“As for your ships, there’s of course the Executor, the Devastator, the Avenger, the Silent, and some others. You’ll have the best fighter squads and ground forces, your own little 501^st among them. Top notch commanding officers too, like general Veers, admiral Harrsk, the Special Inquisitor, and yourself of course. Anyway, if I were you I’d report to Tagge on the bridge around now, make use of yourself.”

The Sith Lord began to leave before stopping in the doorway for a second.

“Tell me something, Malos.”

“Yeah, what?”

“What exactly are the Emperor’s expectations of me under general Tagge?”

A grin.

“Simply doing what you do best.”

Silence returned as the Sith Lord left the room.

“Go on your merry little hunt for rebels. Don’t think for too long we don’t know you got some ulterior motives too.”

…

[somewhere far from the Imperial core]

“Ah, now this is life. No more of that Nar Shaddaa piss.”

“This is a Tornan brandy, better savour every drop.”

“I don’t know what I like more, the view or the quality drinks.”

“Then why are you looking at me instead of any of those?”

“Well, I guess that means I’ve found my favourite view then, ha. Anyway, it’s like I said, my ventures and playing would pay off extremely big in the end.”

“I didn’t know getting your opponent half-drunk beforehand somehow made you better at sabacc.”

“Oh shut it Pandy, we’re enjoying the fruits of my labour!”

“What was the title you were given for this place again? Lord prince? Prime minister?”

“Baron administrator.”

“Hmmm… I like prince better.”

“You can call me the consul of gold for all it matters, because this is what its like to be king of the hill, ha ha.”

“I know you don’t let titles go to your head, but you’ll always be my prince.”

“You’re too sweet, sweetheart. Hey, by the way, did I ever tell you that-”

“Story of your adventures in the Centrality? Only several times.”

“Oh, come on, its always a different story.”

“Alright, alright. Which one is it now?”

“Its that time me and Vuffi went to the starcave of ThonBoka…”