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Snippets and Drabbles: Jedi Edition

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Jari walked slowly into the cave, glowrod held out in front of her. The soft yellow light filled the weathered passageway hewn into the rock. She had to nearly crouch to stop her head from hitting the ceiling. Strange runes and symbols stretched across the walls, completely different than anything she had ever seen or studied. She reached up with a single gloved hand, tracing an etching of what appeared to be a horizontal hand inside of a circle. She shook her head, puzzled. The most curious thing was the size of the passage. She could think of a dozen species off the top of her head that would create corridors of this size, but none originated anywhere near the backwater jungle moon this cave was located on. The number of questions grew, and the number of answers remained firmly at zero.

“Dammit,” she hissed, having accidentally hit her head on the ceiling. She crouched down further, rubbing the top of her head and muttering a creative arrangement of words originating from six different languages. She shuffled further down the tunnel, her glowrod steadily illuminating the now-familiar rune covered walls. Then, something caught her eye.

“Hold on here…” she mumbled, switching off the glow rod. Several long and dark seconds later, her eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness, and she confirmed her suspicion.

There was, quite literally, a light at the end of the tunnel. It shone a dull white, barely illuminating the tunnel in front of her, yet it was enchanting. She felt as if she needed to get to it, to touch it, to bathe in its ethereal embrace.

Ok, she thought, that last one was kind of weird. Shaking her head, she proceeded onwards. Even if she ignored the primal desire the light seemed to evoke, she was still extremely curious about it. She had not spent a whole thirty minutes of her valuable time slogging through a cave just to turn around because she saw a weird light. And anyways, aren’t lights at the ends of tunnels good things?

The light grew brighter as she neared, and her pace quickened, almost on its own accord. She was so close.


She tumbled headfirst into a spherical room, rolling down the bottom half of the chamber. A second later she came to a painful halt, colliding with a pillar at the center of the room. Groaning and rubbing her head, she sat up. Why couldn’t I have become an accountant or something? She asked herself with a sigh, inspecting her body for any serious injuries. Why did I have to pick the job where I fall into pits and get injured?

Eventually, she found that she had sustained wounds no more severe than several nasty bruises. Letting out a breath in relief, she allowed her attention to stray towards her surroundings.

The walls were covered entirely by symbols similar to the ones in the tunnel, except these ones were more organized. Linear. They told a story.

She gazed around the room in awe, her brain racing to try and comprehend the sight before her. She couldn’t truly understand the tale etched on the ancient stone walls, but she could definitely appreciate it. A soft humming in the back of her awareness snapped her eyes away from the walls, and she suddenly twisted her torso, looking up and back. Her breath caught.

There it was.

Sitting on the pillar was a glowing ball, swirling slowly with a thousand intertwined rainbows. She stood up slowly, turning around so that she was facing the pillar. She reached up towards it, hands shaking. Her eyes could not leave it. Her fingers clasped around it, suddenly tingling with a warm, unmistakably ancient energy.

She had no time to react, and unconsciousness took her.


-FINIS… or is it-

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Hello! I’m very sorry, but today’s snippet has been moved to it’s own fic, under the same title as this chapter. Tune in tomorrow for the next snippet. It’ll be another Star Wars one.

Have a great day, and may the force be with you.

Chapter Text

Jahath screamed.

A figure in the darkness. A fire in the cave. Walking closer. Flickering. The stench of death. No, not death. Rot. Disease. She shuddered. The flame flickered out. Black. White. Flashes. Grey. She groaned.

“We’ve been wanting to speak with us, face to face, we might say, for some time.”

Her breath caught. She whipped her head up, but then collapsed at the spike of pain. Her vision flickered. She was looking at her own body, curled up on the dark floor and moaning. Blood matted her maroon hair to her forehead, and her body convulsed wildly.

“Ah, yes, we’re sorry about that. An unfortunate side effect of such an action, as we might know,” she rasped. It rasped? They rasped? Panic bubbled up through the oceans of pain that filled her awareness, and suddenly she was lying on the floor. She slowly turned her head, then she froze. The eyes.

No. Her eyes.

There was a mass of swirling black, grey, and red. At the center you could make out a flickering female silhouette. And where the head should have been, a cloud of mist with two green and gold eyes. Her eyes.

No. Their eyes.

They met their gaze, and suddenly their vision flickered again. And again. And again. It was flashing darkness, green and gold spots flitting around. Echoed screams. Pain.


Hours later, she slowly came back to consciousness, her head pounding dully.

That was interesting, a soft voice in her head said with a familiar rasp. My apologies, we never introduced ourself. How rude. We’re you, nice to meet us.



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Blood dripped off her fist as she slammed it into the mirror. The glass reappeared, and where her reflection was supposed to be, It stared at her. She let out an unholy shriek, a thousand emotions leaking into it.


She smashed it again. A spike of white hot pain shot up her arm. The mirror reformed.


Shards of glass embedded themselves in her skin, as if even in destruction the mirror was determined to cause her pain. The mirror reformed.


It leered at her, then cracked, then crumbled, an empty frame yet again. The mirror reformed.


She ignited her lightsaber, bringing it down on the object. The mirror reformed.


She lashed out with the force, and everything in the small room crumbled. The ground shook, and chunks fell from the ceiling. Most importantly, the mirror was no more. Defeated. She had won.

Her surroundings darkened, and mist filled the air. An icy hand settled on her shoulder, and she jumped. Her adrenaline spiked, flooding her veins as she instinctively swung her lightsaber. The glowing purple blade phased through It.


The eyes narrowed dangerously, and a literal ghost of a smile appeared on It’s ‘face’. “My my, we do seem to have some anger issues, don’t we?”

She screamed, and everything faded away. Mist turned to dust. She was standing in front of a deep hole in the wall. The room around her was destroyed, barely reminiscent of the original construction. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she slumped to the floor and wept.



Chapter Text

The force thrummed, and Josue’s eyes flickered open. His brain tried to organize itself.

The darkness that filled the room told him it was still nighttime on the ship, and he had no recollection of anything that should have woken him up.

The force thrummed again, more intense this time.

He reached out, trying to pinpoint the origin of the vibrations. His eyebrows raised when he found that it was coming from his newest crewmate.

A third, violent thrum.

He scrambled out of his bed, climbing to his feet and stretching. Blearily, he strode to the door and keyed it open. He peered into the hall, and found nothing but darkness. Stepping into the corridor, he made his way to the next door to his left, where he knew Ghislain was sleeping.

He was about to open the door, but paused, considering whether he should enter the room of a girl he barely knew in the middle of the night because the Force was acting up.

“‘Sorry for walking into your room while you were sleeping; I swear, the force made me do it.’ Yeah that’ll go over well,” he muttered. He may have absolutely no social experience whatsoever, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Another thrum, the worst one yet.

He huffed, and entered the override on the lock. Maybe he was an idiot after all. Pushing away the feeling that he was invading her privacy, he entered the cabin.

It was completely bare. He knew she’d had very little to call her own over the span of her life, but there was absolutely nothing in the room. No clothes, not personal effects, nothing.

Resolving to fix that issue as soon as possible, he crept towards the bed. He found her thrashing in her sheets, whimpering. He froze.

The droids had given him all sorts of social training. Proper etiquette, dos and don’ts, basic social rules, were just a few of the numerous things they had taught him. Seen as he had never interacted with an actual person for the majority of his formative years, he thought they had done a pretty good job. But none of his training had prepared him for this.

She whimpered again, and instinct kicked in. He brushed against her mind, surrounding and permeating it with calming energy. The thrashing subsided almost immediately. Feeling that she was calming down, he drained some of the fear from her mind, taking it into his own and dispersing it into the force. He was a bit surprised at how easily it was; he had only ever practiced on distressed animals, but never on something as complicated as a human. Of course, a human was really just a particularly smart animal, so why would it be harder? Finding she was still in the nightmare, he gently pulled her awake.

His eyes snapped open at the same moment as hers did, and their gazes locked. Almost immediately, she looked away.

“‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

His brow furrowed. “You didn’t cause any trouble at all.” That was not entirely true, since his sleep had been interrupted, but it wasn’t as if he cared about that. Not more than her well being. She didn’t answer, and burrowed into her bed a bit. Feeling her discomfort, he smiled at her.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Alright. Can I help you sleep better?”

Another nod, this time a bit hesitant. “Ok.”

He closed his eyes, and brushed up against her mind again, but this time filled her awareness with peace and calm. Satisfied, he opened his eyes, and confirmed that she was peacefully asleep. He smiled, and stood. Sometimes, he thought, being an empath wasn’t quite such a bad thing.



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A rifle, a target, and a marksman. The three base ingredients for a job for a sniper.

Faylin squinted down the sight of her custom slugthrower, twisting a dial on it. Her vision snapped into focus, and a heads up display appeared around the crosshair. She smiled, and surveyed the area, searching for her kill.

“There you are,” she murmured, setting her sights on a man at the center of the party, who was laughing while his hands made exaggerated movements. She trained her finger on the trigger, but a smiling woman walked between her and the target, causing her to growl. Wait, wait, there. She’s out of the way. She set her sights on the man again. Watching him for a moment, she realized he was telling a story. She hoped he wasn’t at a cliffhanger.

Breathe out. Hold. Squeeze.


A hole the size of his head was now present in his torso, and she smirked. Another job done.

Ignoring the panicked party-goers that filled her vision, she crawled backwards, away from the edge of the roof. Swiftly deconstructing her weapon, she allowed herself a moment of pleasure.

Another corrupt bastard dead. Only a couple million left to go.



Chapter Text

“You left me.”

It was a statement. Cold. Emotionless.

“No... I didn’t...”

“You left me.”

Its rumbling, mechanical bass mixed with a familiar but unplaceable voice, warping it. The electronic quality waxed and waned as it spoke.

A red lightsaber ignited in the gloom, illuminating the faintest outline of a masked face. Its eyes burned red, reflecting the angry light from the energy blade. Dark mist whirled around, dancing with and distorting the dim glow of the lightsaber. From time to time, she could catch the barest glimpse of an armored form. She became aware that she was lying on the floor.

“What... who...” she asked frantically, scrambling backwards. Her hand felt for the floor but found nothing but air. She screamed and thudded dully against the ground. A puff of ash enveloped her, and she coughed violently. As the ash cleared, she peered around in the gloom, clutching her throat. As far as she could tell, the monster was nowhere to be found.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she pulled herself to her feet and investigated the landscape closely. It seemed to be completely devoid of life. In the gloom, she could make out hundreds of statues of ash, locked in some sort of battle. It felt wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She turned around, trying to find a ship of some sort, or some other method of transportation.

The red blade bore down on her. She had no time to react. No time to defend herself. Not even time to scream.

She was cold. Everything was cold. She was kneeling in the snow, which stretched as far as the eye could see. Around her, dozens of sticks were lodged into the icy ground, like flagpoles. But instead of flags, frozen clone trooper helmets were perched atop the wooden rods. She knew where this was.

But there was something that stood out. Something that shouldn’t be there. Her curiosity got the better of her; she stood up and moved closer to it. It was a large lump, covered in cloth of various shades of black and brown. She cautiously touched it, but nothing happened. She turned it over, and her breath caught.

Staring up at her were Anakin’s lifeless eyes. Long, empty tunnels of death.

“No... no!”

She grabbed his head and shook it, but nothing happened. “Master, please...” she trailed off after she took her hands away, shocked.

Smeared on her palms was bright red blood, standing out starkly against the pure, shimmering snow that surrounded her. “That’s his blood on your hands, you know.” Her head whipped towards the corpse, and Anakin’s face was twisted into a sick grin. His lifeless eyes now burned bright red, overflowing with hatred and pain. “You fool. You just had to be such an arrogant brat, doing everything your own way. Too good for the Jedi. Too good for your pathetic smuggler friends. Too good for your master.”

She was shaking her head, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her mouth worked, trying desperately to say something. To tell him it wasn’t true. To dispel the lies that filled her ears, searing into her mind. But no sound was made.

“You haven’t changed. You’re still the same little girl that trusted just a bit too much. And where did that get her? Bitten!” Anakin cackled. “That blood is his. That blood is Obi-Wan’s. That blood is Plo’s. That blood is the blood smeared on the inside of every one of these helmets,” he motioned with an arm, and she realized every helmet was facing her, a bloody handprint over the visor. She shook madly, sobbing, but still made no sounds.

“Oh, don’t cry, Snips,” he emphasized the nickname, poisoning it with mockery, “you did what you felt was right. I’m sure if you wash your hands it’ll all come off...”

With a sneer, the body became lifeless again, cold dead eyes staring at her. The sneer remained. She stared at her shaking, blood-covered hand before she noticed with horror that blood was leaking from Anakin’s body into the snow. She watched, transfixed, as the blindingly white snow was dyed a vivid red at an increasingly rapid rate.

She blinked, and the entire ground was crimson. A second later, red stained ash fluttered down. As she looked up, the sky darkened, becoming a blanket of maroon. Looking back down, she saw through her tears that the helmets and Anakin’s corpse had disappeared.

Collapsing to the ground, she curled up and sobbed. Her tears ran dry neither a short nor long time later. Time had no meaning. She closed her still-wet eyes. She just wanted it all to be over.

“You left me. You left us all.”

She sprung up instantly, adrenaline flowing. The monster was standing there. It gazed unflinchingly at her. Its lightsaber was ignited, loosely gripped in its gloved hand. A bloody handprint was present on its mask, and red liquid trickled from the eyes. A second later, it crumbled, dissolving into red mist, which blew out of sight, borne by a wind unfelt. Its lightsaber clattered to the ground. Everything darkened, and she was once again surrounded by inky mist.

“You left me. You will pay.”

The blood red saber ignited, and an unseen hand plunged it into her chest. Her sternum burned impossibly hot, and she fell to the floor.

Gasping, Ahsoka’s eyes snapped open. She was in her bed, wrapped in a very mussed sheet which clung to her sweat covered body. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up. Her breaths came heavily and quickly, and her chest burned like a white hot poker had been lodged in it. She unconsciously glanced down, assuring herself that she was completely healthy. With a shake of her head, she strode to her kitchen, making herself a cup of caf with the only appliance in the room; a secondhand caf machine. It was obvious she wasn’t going to be getting much sleep that night, so why be miserable on top of it.

With a slight quiver, she loaded the caf maker and sighed. Another night of hell, it seemed. Time to get out the holocards.



Chapter Text


“Snips! Language!”

“But Master,” she grunted, flipping over a droid, bisecting it, “you swear all the time!”

Anakin violently force pushed a trio of B1s into a wall. “Yes, but that’s not how this works. I’m your Master; I can say whatever I want. You’re the Padawan, so I need to instill proper values and habits into you.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, leaping into a battle droid that was about to shoot Anakin in the back, augmenting her strength with the force and dashing it against the side of the hallway. “Good job leading by example there, Skyguy.”

“I will have you know,” he used the force to pull two droids into Ahsoka’s lightsabers as she executed a complex stunt of acrobatics, which resulted in seven different sparking piles of scrap metal, including the remains of a B2, “that I am on my best behavior!”

“Obi-Wan must faint when he sees you on your worst behavior.”

He smirked, deflecting a series of blaster bolts back to their points of origin. “He’s never seen me on anything but my best behavior.”

“Really? Scared of little old Obi-Wan?”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to hide in the supply closet for the debriefing after we crashed that shuttle!” He retorted, plunging his lightsaber into a blast door and starting to carve a passageway through it. Ahsoka automatically took up the position of defender, deflecting and blocking the hail of blasterfire that streaked down the hallway.

“Ha! You’re avoiding my question!”

“And you’re avoiding my question!”

They both turned their heads, gazes locked, even as Ahsoka’s twin sabers whirled furiously. After a second, they both huffed, and returned their attention to their tasks.

Several seconds later, a durasteel cylinder thudded against the ground, and the two Jedi retreated through the hole. Ignoring the approaching droids and the alarms that rang through the room they had just entered, they returned the cylinder to its original position, and Ahsoka quickly welded it to the rest of the door with her lightsabers.

“Do you think we needed that?” She asked, glancing back at the now sealed blast door as they pelted further into the complex.

“You want to go back there?”

“I’m just saying, if Obi-Wan doesn’t come through—“

“He will.”

“—for some reason, we’ve kind of cornered ourselves.”

Anakin nudged her with his shoulder, and was rewarded with a small fist to the kidney when it hit her montrals. “Stop thinking like some fancy general,” he replied carelessly, rubbing his side, “our job is to create a diversion; we can worry about all the boring stuff when we get to it.”

“R-ight. Aren’t you a general?”

He grinned at her. “Not a fancy one.”



Chapter Text

She huffed, interrupting their argument which had quickly become less and less serious over its five minute duration. “You can’t just say ‘Because I said so’!”

He grinned at her. “Why not?”

She threw her hands up, but a smile was spreading across her face despite herself. “You just can’t!”

He reached over, and before she could react, booped her nose. “That’s a silly reason.”

She scowled halfheartedly, swatting his hand away. Grinning even wider, he attempted to boop her nose again, but she batted it away. His attack redoubled, bringing his other hand into the fray. She narrowed his eyes at him.

“Alright, I see how it is!”

She suddenly thrust her hand forward, booping his nose.

“Oh, it’s on!”



Chapter Text

A pair of speeders whizzed by, the pale green grass flapping wildly in its wake. Atop them was a scrawny, blue haired boy in orange, and a green clad man with a ponytail.

“Bro! What the fuck?! Do you have to be so disruptive?!” A Lothcat meowed, watching the figures retreat into the distance. Shaking with fury, he turned around, where his similarly disgruntled compatriot sat.

“No respect,” the other Lothcat meowed in return, shaking his head with disgust. “We’ve been here for thousands of years, and those up-jumped Lothmonkeys came out of the sky and started acting like they own the place!”

“I know right? Like, we’re people too!”

“Exactly! But no, they’re all ‘oh they’re just pests that can’t even talk’. Yeah, well maybe you just can’t understand us because you’re all a bunch of dumb motherfuckers!”

“And now they’re polluting everything too. I heard Mike say that the Southern ‘Cats got fed up with those shiny things creating so much noise and pollution, so they raided them. Did ya hear what happened to them?”

“Nah. What happened?”

“Absolutely nothing! It was ridiculous! A whole colony was attacking the shiny thing, and no one tried to stop them! The complete lack of respect!”

The first Lothcat was furious. “How could they?!”

“Exactly! It was completely outrageous and unfair!”

“Did they at least destroy the shiny thing?”

He grimaced. “No. It endured all of the headbutts and bites rather admirably. They may be disrespectful and stupid, but they have making shiny things down to a science.”

“Damn… wait, what the fuck’s a science?”

“What? I don’t fucking know. Why the hell’d you ask me?”

“I dunno, you seemed like you’d know.”

“Well I don’t, so fuck off!”

“Whatever… yo! There’s a Lothrat!”

“Really? Where?” His head whipped around frantically, all other thoughts suddenly erased from his mind.



“No! There!”

“Oh, you mean there.”

“Yes! There! Quick, before it gets away!”

“Alright, calm down, it won’t—“

“And… it’s gone. Fuck you bro. Now what am I supposed to bring home for dinner?! I have a family!”



Chapter Text

“Ow! What the kark Sabine?” Ezra cried, stumbling back as an armored elbow made contact with his face.

“Sorry! You surprised me!”

Rubbing his mouth, Ezra grimaced as his eyes watered slightly. “Yeah well don’t worry, I won’t be doing that again.”

Sabine looked at him, and the anger quickly drained from her face. She glanced at her feet, before looking back at Ezra. “Sorry,” she said after a moment, staring at the floor between them.

“It’s fine. It just hurts. A lot.” Ezra mumbled, hand still covering his mouth. After a couple seconds of silence, he took the hand away from his face and turned to her. “I don’t have a chipped tooth or anything, right?”

She looked up, and shook her head after a quick inspection. “No. Your lip is split pretty badly though,” she reported, wincing slightly at the sight of the wound.

“Karabast. Hera won’t be happy.

She cocked her head. “Any more than normal?”

“Yeah. This’ll be the third time this week I’ve had to raid the first-aid kit.”

“Third? I can only remember the egghead thing.”

Ezra scowled, an action which was intensified by the blood that had made its way from his swollen lip and down his chin. “A couple days after the cranial injury,” he emphasized the last two words, and Sabine partially stifled a smirk, “I busted the kriff out of my knee. I didn’t want Zeb to tease me about it, so I managed to keep it between Hera and I.”

“How exactly did you mess up your knee? Is that why you’ve been limping?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Er, yeah, well, while it’s a very exciting and heroic story, how about I tell you about that later. I really would like this lip fixed as soon as possible; it hurts like a Nexu bite.”

Sabine narrowed her eyes at him, before shaking her head. “Yeah yeah ok. I’ll see if I can deflect Hera some. Just remember, I wanna know about that knee.”

“Yeah… alright…”

———Two Days Earlier———

Ezra whistled, striding towards the exit with a grin on his face. Everything was in place. Soon, his head would be avenged. Retribution for all of the cruel jokes it had been the butt… or, rather, the head of. Zeb would pay for his insolence.

His thoughts still fixed upon the imagined expression of shock and horror he was sure Zeb would be wearing the next morning, he passed through the doorway.


His knee suddenly smashed into the corner of the wall, sending him sprawling to the grey metal floor.

“Force damn it all!”

After several moments of deep breathing, he managed to dispel the tears that had gathered in his eyes and block out the worst of the pain. Popping his head up, he glanced around to make sure there were no witnesses, then pushed himself into a kneeling position. He hissed when the injured leg made contact with the ground. After several moments of struggling, and just as many muttered curses, he managed to stand up.

“Now… how do I go about this?” He asked, gazing down the long twisted hall that led to the medbay with unfettered irritation. Reaching the only logical conclusion, he started hopping down the corridor, grunting with every landing.

“This prank better be karking worth it.”



Chapter Text

“Auntie ‘Soka!”

Ahsoka turned, and found a teary eyed Luke standing in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

He sniffled, pointing at his knee. “I fell and hurt my leg.”

She squatted down, and inspected the injury in question. It was an angry red, with several slightly bleeding areas. “Ooh, that looks painful.” Luke nodded, lip quivering. She slipped her bag off her shoulder and dug through it. Several seconds later, she make a noise of triumph and pulled out a domestic bacta patch.

“Ok, here we go. You ready? It’ll sting a little.” Luke nodded again. She peeled the coating off, then gently stuck it on his knee.

“Almost done,” she reassured him, sensing his discomfort. Running her hand over it tenderly, she stood back up.

“How does it feel now?”

He bent it. “It’s better.”

“Good. Do you want to stay with me, or go back out and play with Leia?”

His face screwed up as he carefully considered his options. “I wanna go back and play.”

“Good choice, little guy. Now, if I’m not mistaken, I think the grav-slide is free,” she said slyly, looking down at the little boy. His eyes lit up, all thoughts about his injury driven out by the prospect of getting to play on the slide. Without another word, he raced off, and Ahsoka smiled.

The sun was shining, no one was dead, and she had two of the most adorable little kids to look after. Life couldn’t be better.



Chapter Text

“Hello Boba. It’s been a while.”

She received a hard stare in response.

“There’s a rather large bounty out for you. You and a human girl.” He said after several seconds, his voice a low rasp.

She shrugged. “I have a penchant for pissing people off.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you now. You have no lightsaber, and this time you’re all alone.”

She smiled, channeling her inner Obi-Wan. “Because we’re old friends?” His finger slid onto the trigger, and she switched gears. “Ok, maybe not. But, if you shoot me, there’s no chance of finding Uma.”

He cocked his head. “Is there now? I expect it wouldn’t be hard to find a helpless little girl.”

A grin stretched across her face. “Sorry buddy, but she isn’t helpless.”

Suddenly, Boba crumpled to the floor, unconscious. On the back of his neck below his helmet, singed cloth could be seen. Where he stood, a short human girl was holding a blaster with a grin.

“Too easy,” she said, holstering her blaster with a flourish. “They always fall for that.”

Ahsoka laughed, tension leaving her body, walking over to Umaru and high-fiving her, before looking back down at the bounty hunter.

“You did use stun, right?”

“Uh… yeah, I think.”



Chapter Text

“Why are we having nerf steak for the fifth time this week?” Ezra asked, plopping down in his chair.

Sabine punched his arm lightly, sitting down next to him. “Because Zeb only knows how to cook one thing,” she said, before furrowing her brow. “That one thing definitely isn’t nerf, though. I think he’s just lazy.”

Zeb made a rude hand gesture, and Ezra laughed. Hera narrowed her eyes at Zeb, turning to Sabine and Ezra once the Lasat was sufficiently cowed. “Stop being rude. He’s trying his best.”

Kanan snickered, and Hera turned her emerald gaze to him. His amusement was instantly quelled. Hera nodded firmly at them all, before taking a bite out of the brown meat which had been set on her plate. She immediately made a face, which was too much for Sabine and Ezra, who burst out laughing, clutching each other in a vain attempt to keep themselves upright. Kanan joined in a second later.

Glowering almost as much as Zeb, she swept her gaze around the table with the most threatening glare she could muster. Within seconds, though, the glare slipped from her face and she started chuckling as well.

“Zeb… you really need to broaden your culinary horizons. Otherwise we’ll have to live off of rations,” Sabine wheezed once her laughter had subsided enough for coherent speech, her face still half buried in Ezra’s shoulder. This set everyone off into another round of hysterics, which even Zeb had been swept up in.

“Alright, lets see you cook nerf,” Zeb retorted once they had all collected themselves. All eyes suddenly turned to her, and Sabine raised her hands.

“Hey, I blow osik up, not cook.”

“Oh come on, try it. Force knows my taste buds need a break from all that Mandalorian stuff you always make,” Ezra told her with a mischievous grin, and she glared at him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

He grinned. “I hold no allegiance to anyone or anything but my poor abused mouth.”

That one earned him a punch.



Chapter Text

He heard the sound of a drink slamming down onto his table. In an instant, a blaster was out of its holster and pointed at the source. He opened his eyes, wanting to see which politician with too many credits and not enough sense was trying to hire him this time.

“What do you want?”

The man met his helmeted gaze. “I need someone dead, and I need it done in the next four hours.”

“Why are you coming to me?”

“Because none of these dumb bastards have a chance. No one except you,” his potential employer said with a smirk. A couple of the patrons who had heard the man over the din glared at him, but returned to their drinks as it was returned by the man. Boba smiled slightly behind his helmet, before turning his attention back to business.

“You can’t do it yourself? You seem fairly capable.”

“I do not have the specific skill set required for this job.”

Boba was silent for a moment, mulling the situation over. “How much are you paying?”

The man grinned, plucking a credit chip out of his pocket. “Half a million.”

“How much upfront?”


Boba leaned forward cautiously. “What’s the job?”

The man barked a triumphant laugh, causing the patrons to glance at him again. “I’ll tell you on the way.”



Chapter Text

“What do you want from me?” Kanan gasped, blood dripping from his mouth as he hung limp in his chains. The shadows of her face twisted into something reminiscent of a smile.

“Me? Why, I’m just a simple being with a simple goal. Nothing as important as your own noble goals, Master Jedi,” she rasped.

Kanan’s head lifted, staring unseeingly into her luminescent red eyes. “Might I have the pleasure of knowing these goals?”

Her ‘grin’ stretched wider. “It’s really quite straightforward. I want to crush the pitiful Icarii you call a friend. I want her to be alone. I want her to be ruined.

“I want her to be shattered.”

“You’re talking about Jahath?”

Her smile turned to a sneer. “Who else?”

His eyes closed, and he bowed his head. “I think you will fail.”

She laughed. “That is where you are wrong. You think I can be defeated, but it is impossible. I have no limits! What is not alive cannot die, and I assure you, I am not alive.”

She cackled again, forcing his head up. “And soon, you won’t be either.”

Suddenly, Kanan screamed, the chains going taut and yanking him into a vertical spread-eagle position.

After several seconds of watching this, her vision slowly faded out, Kanan’s screams echoing in her head. Abruptly, Jahath’s eyes snapped open, and she rapidly looked around the room, sucking in air rapidly. It was dark and sparse, the only furnishings being the bed she was
In and the small desk, upon which was her lightsaber. Relief flooded into her body.

I’d check on your friends when morning comes, a familiar rasp said in her head, and that relief became short lived. Her heart rate doubled, and she scrambled out of the bunk, throwing the door open and dashing into the halls of Base One.


Chapter Text

A flash of green light, and the planet of Alderaan ceased to exist.

Hayden’s blood ran cold, unbelieving of the sight before him.

“They- Alderaan was- they said they wouldn’t use it on…” he breathed. This was not keeping the peace. The deaths of thousands of innocents…

He clenched his fist, smoldering fury rising up in his gut.

“Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?” A booming voice behind him asked. He whipped around, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears. They said Vader could read minds, and he wasn’t particularly keen to be the one to confirm that rumor.

“No sir,” he said quickly, trying to clear his mind of traitorous thoughts, even as his hands shook. His eyes were fixed upon Vader’s boots, but he could tell he was being scrutinized.

“No need to concern yourself, Lieutenant. The Rebels may think they are safe, but the Empire has many resources. Such traitors are always dealt with.”

Without another word, Vader stalked off, leaving a shaking Hayden alone. He forced himself to calm down, but every time he looked out the viewport, the remnants of Alderaan stared back at him.

Consequences be damned, he thought furiously, I will do everything in my power to stop this monstrosity.



Chapter Text



“-kriff, sorry!”

Ezra leapt out of his seat with a yelp, clutching his groin.

“Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot!”

“Osik, are you okay?”

“No, not really! I’m sorry!”

Sabine blinked, staring at him. “Sorry for what? I literally just spilled hot soup on your lap.”

Still clutching himself, his gaze was suddenly fixed to her boots, and a small blush crept onto his cheeks. “Um… nothing,” he muttered. She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“I mean, you just spilled scalding liquid on my hypersensitive reproductive organs, so maybe that?” He said, switching tone suddenly. Her eyes snapped down to his crotch, before widening again as her face turned apologetic.

“Oh, yeah, uh… can I, uh, help, or something?” She stammered. He shot her an odd look, even as a blush spread across his face again, almost outpacing her own reddening face. She attempted to apply reason to the situation.

“Well, it’s not as if I haven’t…”

Ezra’s newly dead eyes conveyed his opinion of that logic. She thought hard, but each possible line of dialogue was lewder than the next.

“Er… what if I kiss you? Y’know, to distract you?”

“Don’t make out in the living room!” Kanan chimed in, his voice coming from down the hall.

“Would you rather us go in my room?” Sabine called back. There was a moment of silence.

“Ok, fine!”

She grinned, before launching herself at Ezra. Needless to say, he was very thoroughly distracted.



Chapter Text

Oi! Girly! Wake the kark up already. I’m kriffing bored.

Jari groaned, feeling like her brain was trying to escape from her skull using a turbohammer. Her eyes flickered open, and suddenly the memories came flooding back.

“Ow… what the kark happened?”

You touched me, that’s what happened! A voice yelled in her head, causing her headache to intensify. I would call you an idiot, but honestly I’m kind of glad you’re an unintelligent monkey; otherwise you would’ve been smart enough not to touch me.

She gasped, sitting up rapidly and whipping her head around. She cried out, clutching her head as spikes of pain lanced through it.

Are you serious? The voice asked. Why the hell would you do that? You have, as far as I can tell, the worst headache of your life, and you decide to play pinball with your brain? Force, why couldn’t someone smarter have stumbled upon me?

“Who the shab are you, and why are you in my karking head?”

I’m Eylainarayd, you laser-brained nerf herder, and I’m in your head because you decided that yes, it’s definitely a good idea to touch a mysterious glow-y thing. It’s shocking you’re not dead already, considering you’re an archaeologist.

She glanced carefully around the dim room, finally spotting the now dim sphere, which was flickering erratically, before sighing.

“Ugh,” she said, rubbing her eyes with her palms.

Imagine how I feel.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have to imagine,” she muttered, cautiously getting to her feet.

Schutta, Eylain retorted. Jari sighed again.

“What the hell is my life?”



Chapter Text

Sabine gasped, rapidly sitting up as her eyes snapped open. Her breaths came fast and ragged, her body tearing air into her lungs. She threw off the sheets, climbing uneasily out of bed. She absently grabbed a blaster, shakily shoving it into her waistband.

Slowly padding through the tower, she ran her hand carefully across the walls, tracing the lines of her paintings. Years of paintings. The blues. The oranges.

Her mind was numb, like it always was. She had gotten over the tears a long time ago. Now, she could almost ignore the hole in her heart. She could tape it up and paint it over. But it wasn’t the same. No amount of paint could cover up the pain she bore.

But she moved forwards. She was a Mandalorian. She was Sabine Wren. She never quit. She always moved forwards, because there was no where else to go.

That’s what they all thought.

When the citizens of Lothal looked at their Commander-In-Chief, they saw a woman who had battled the Empire countless times. A warrior ready to defend their planet with every ounce of her being. A symbol of strength and resilience.

But they didn’t see past the surface. She didn’t let them. They needed a powerful figure to rally behind. They didn’t see her when she woke up in the middle of the night, screaming. They didn’t see her when she was an emotionless husk, dead in every way except physically.

She stared into the blue orbs. They were a vivid electric blue. A blue that had once held the fire of life and purpose. Now they were just memories and paintings. Hollow echoes of the real things. She might never see them again.

A spike of pain stabbed through her, followed by a trickle of determination. She breathed out, pulling her hand from the portrait.

She knew there was no guarantee. There was no real likelihood he was alive. But she did not let go of hope. If anyone could do it, it’d be Ezra Bridger. One day, someone was going to find him, and bring him back. Bring him home. And she was going to try her damndest to make sure she was that someone. And until then, she would keep Lothal safe and secure. She would make sure he had a home to be brought back to.

That’s what kept her going. That faint hope that burned deep in her heart. That’s how she got up every morning, put on that brave face, and did what had to be done. After all, what was anyone without hope?



Chapter Text

“Not just the men, but the women and the children too!”

Padme stared at him. “What the actual hell? Are you kriffing kidding me? You’re saying you committed genocide?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it—“

“Ugh!” She planted her face in her hands, shaking her head. Anakin glanced around awkwardly, studying the ground. Padme sighed, and he looked back up, having already undeniably concluded that the floor was positively floor-like.

“Ok, I need to contact the council.”


She rounded on him, aggressively pointing a finger at him. “No, you wait! This is a serious issue, Ani! You just killed an entire tribe of tusken raiders! Out of revenge! That’s not a good sign, especially for a Jedi! So, you’re going to shut the hell up and stay right here while I contact the council. Am I understood?”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

“Am. I. Understood?”

He nodded meekly.

“Excellent. Now, I’ll be right back. Behave, or I’ll sic Artoo on you.”



Chapter Text

Palpatine stared down at the charred corpse of his late apprentice with rapidly growing fury. Thirteen years of work, all down the drain. Stupid Jedi.

He growled, whirling around and stalking back towards the shuttle, his clone accompaniment scrambling to keep up. “Who should I… what happened to those… hm, I think the Jedi destroyed that. Kriff, those bastards are thorough. Ok, I can work with this…”

Continuing his muttering, he stormed up the boarding ramp and into the ship. Seconds later, he was standing in front of his Evil Plot flowchart. Skimming over it, he was frustrated to find that there were no convenient apprentice options left.

“Why did I have to kill them all off? I should have planned for that!”

He shook his head, making a mental note to create a Backup Evil Plot flowchart sometime.

“Ok Sheev, pull yourself together. You’re the Emperor of the entire galaxy; you can do this.”

He stared at the chart for several long moments, before groaning.

“Why is this thing so damn convoluted…”



Chapter Text

“Er, Master?”


“We’re supposed to be searching for our contact?”

Obi-Wan sighed, glancing at the smoking drink in his hand. “But, that can wait, right? Like, just one more drink.”

“Master, you’ve already had three.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “And they were damn good, too. Your point?”

Anakin facepalmed, before shaking his head and moving into the crowd. “I’ll get you when it’s time to go.”



Chapter Text

“No, my father didn’t fight in the wars, he was a navigator on a spice freighter,” Luke said, fiddling with C3PO’s arm. Obi-Wan sighed, grabbing a dusty bottle off of a shelf. Popping the cork, he took a long drink, before looking at it appreciatively.

“Ah, a classic: Iridonian ale. I used to keep at least a barrel in stock at all times. Unfortunately, I drank it all,” he said, his gaze distant. “Anyways, what were we talking about again?”

Luke gave him a look, before shaking his head. “We were talking about my father.”

“Oh! Yes! I remember him. Excellent drinking buddy, and a damn good Jedi to boot.”


“Did you know, one time he got me a brewery for my birthday?”


Obi-Wan stared at him. “What kind of question is that?”


Chapter Text

“Sir, Yavin IV has been destroyed.”

Vader breathed approvingly. “Set course for Tatooine.”

“Tatooine, my lord?”

His breathing became angry. “Do not make me repeat myself, technician.”

“Of course sir. Setting course for Tatooine.”

The technician scurried off, leaving Vader alone. He stomped over to a viewport, gazing out into space.

“At last… the Sand shall be annihilated, and my victory complete.”



Chapter Text

“My lord?”

Vader turned from the river of lava he had been brooding at. “Yes?”

“We have the updated blueprints, and we thought you would want to see them,” the lavatrooper said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Well don’t just stand there. Show me.”

“U-uh yeah, sure, my lord. Just, er, come over here…”

Vader huffed, following the trooper with a shake of his head. For some reason, whenever he talked to them, they just got all scared and tried to find excuses to leave. For example, last time he had tried to strike up conversation with an ensign, they had died of a heart attack. Vader had just wanted to know what the ensign thought of the Empire’s stance on nature preservation.

Shaking his head again, Vader was lead to a folding table upon which the flimsiplast blueprints laid. He crossed his arms, inspecting the design carefully.

After a minute of hard thinking, he turned to the trooper.

“More lava. Of the extra ominous variety, if you can find it.”

The trooper bowed. “It will be done, my lord.”



Chapter Text

Vader strode out onto the rampart, watching impassively as the AT-AT wreaked havoc upon the Empire’s forces. His lightsaber ignited, blood red light staining his mask. The AT-AT’s head swiveled towards him. A second. Then it shot.

He watched the bolts speed towards him, and extended his arm, bracing himself. Another second. Impact.

One bolt landed several feet to the right, sprinkling him with dust and debris. The other struck his hand, flowing into it. He growled, leaning back, the energy of the bolt straining him. He struggled for a moment. Just a moment. Then, it was done.

He gave the AT-AT a long stare, reveling in fear the Jedi pilot was emitting, basking in it. Then, he extended his now-smoking hand again, before making a fist.

The AT-AT buckled.

He wrenched his hand down, using the fear the pilot was releasing to empower his force abilities.

It collapsed to the ground with a mighty boom.

Vader leapt from the wall a second later, plunging down into the marsh below.



Chapter Text

Tarre strode into the hangar, boots thumping against the duracrete floor.

“Everyone, put your hands up and stop what you’re doing!” He boomed, sweeping his gaze around the room. A graphic popped up in his vision, informing him that he had twelve targets.

Immediately, everyone’s blasters were pointed at him, another two men rushing out of the ship. A long second passed, before a red twi’lek stepped forward. “We have you fifteen to one, mando, armor or not. This is our business, and I think it’s better for your health that you don’t make it yours.”

Tarre rolled his eyes. “Last warning.” He summoned his lightsaber from his belt, igniting the blade.

The twi’lek’s eyes widened, and he stepped back. Tarre laughed. “Funny, that. No respect until I light up the laser sword.”

“What- what did you do to it?” A woman said, her blaster trained on him.

“What, this?” He asked, looking at the glowing black blade. “This is your death.”

He thrust out a hand, tossing a trio of the criminals against the wall. He heard blasters start to fire, but he was already moving. His lightsaber cleaved through flesh, cauterizing instantly. He felt bolts strike his armor, but ignored it. He’d have time to touch up the paint later.

He turned his attention to the red twi’lek, stalking towards him. But he noticed their ship whir to life, so he took a detour to the thrusters. A second later, they were a molten mass of durasteel, the ship crippled. He strode over to the boarding ramp, using the Force to key it closed. He then welded it shut with his saber, determined not to let anyone get away.

Turning back to the twi’lek, he called upon the Force and made a fist. His neck snapped. He turned to the few that were still shooting, and hurled his lightsaber at them. Their screams died almost as soon as they started.

Looking around impassively, he turned, moving towards the front of the ship. Trying to sense where the last three were, he moved to the cockpit. He peered through the transparisteel, and found them frantically trying to restore the ship to working order. He knocked on the viewport, and their heads whipped up. He waved.

And then his view was blocked by blood.



Chapter Text

The rancor growled, grasping irritatedly at the little man in his cage.

“What the fuck? Bro, it’s not like you’re escaping. Just let me fucking eat you already.”

The man seemed to be of a different opinion, running to the gate. The rancor huffed. “Did you not hear me?”

He stomped after the man. “Come on now, this is getting a bit tiresome. Just-“

He was cut off by the gate slamming down on his head, forcing him to the floor.

“Ow! Fuck you!”



Chapter Text

“H-how aren’t y-y-you freezing-g-g?” Sabine asked, clutching her arms close. Ezra turned to her, grinning.

“My sheer awesomeness produces warmth.”

She made a rude hand gesture, causing him to laugh again. She huffed. “Not funny! S-seriously! How a-are you s-s-so warm?”

He waved his lightsaber. “Jedi stuff.”

She growled.



Chapter Text

“Uh… Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan groaned. “What?”

“The Council needs you. There’s an emergency,” Ahsoka said.

Obi-Wan rolled over, groaning again. “The Council can go suck my dick. There’s a much more pressing emergency in my head. Tell ‘em I’ll be there in about a day.”

Ahsoka’s eyebrow tattoos raised. “Obi-Wan… this is the Council. The Jedi High Council. Are you sure you know who I’m talking about?”

“Of course I know. You think I’d allow someone random to suck my dick?”

“Lives are at stake.”

“And I’ll probably loose mine if I try to stand up.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You will either get out of that bed, or I will come over there and drag you from it!”

“You wouldn’t!” He gasped, before wincing.

“Oh yes, I would. Don’t think I have any sympathy for you just because you got drunk last night.”

“Ugh, fine! Demon spawn.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, though he wasn’t able to see it. “Just remember, meeting in briefing room five in fifteen minutes.”



Chapter Text

“I knew you would come, Darth Vader. Or, should I say, Anakin Skywalker?”

The only answer was breathing. Heavy, loud, rhythmic to a fault. Cold and dark. Oppressive.

“I see… what you once were… yes… sad. Very sad. Betrayed by the one you thought you could trust, led astray by those who purportedly knew best… very sad indeed.”

“You know nothing.”

Aryata smiled slightly. “Ah, but I do. The Force grants me knowledge, cursed as it may be. The past, the present…” he rose, turning to face Vader, “the future.”

He got no answer. “Ah, but you would know about such things, would you not? Yes… you are familiar with cursed visions of the future…”

“I have not come to listen to your riddles.”

Aryata chuckled. “That, I can believe.” His expression turned regretful, and he drew his lightsaber. “There is no way I can turn you from this path. I will fight you.”

“It will be your doom.”

A red blade sprung into being, the sickly light dancing around the chapel. Aryata shook his head, igniting his own green blade, bringing it into a guard. The breathing remained unchanged.

Instantly, Vader’s saber was upon him, battering against him relentlessly. Aryata smoothly parried every strike, unfazed by the crackling sabers clashing mere inches from his face. He was the Force. He was peace.

Just as they were beginning to form a pattern, he parried the Sith Lord’s blade violently, slipping to the side and attempting to bisect him. His attack was met by Vader’s lightsaber, but he was already moving, pushing him back. It was a dance of green and red, every action taking place over a split second, the incessant, unpausing breathing of Vader providing the rhythm.

Vader growled, stretching his off hand out behind him. A whisper from the Force, and Aryata was already leaping out of the way, not a moment to soon, as chunks of stone and duracrete pummeled the spot he had just been standing. Vader’s silhouette strode through the dust, blood red illuminating his polished black helmet.


“The Force tells me much.”

Aryata ducked, plasma sweeping over his head, then threw himself to the floor as boulders hurled themselves at him. Another whisper, and he swung his saber through the air. He heard a crackle and a whoosh, Vader’s blade deflecting off his own.

He jumped to his feet, calling on the Force and thrusting his hand in Vader’s direction as he circled around to the newly created opening in the wall. The stone to his left exploded, showering him in debris; the majority of which he deftly dodged. He reached out with the Force, trying to place where Vader was. He found the cyborg in the process of standing up.

Aryata stumbled back, a streak of red staining his vision, accompanied by a whirling hum. Something above him crackled, causing him to look up.


Several tons of rubbled crashed down around him, sharp spikes of pain erupting all around his body even as he leapt away. He thudded dully to the ground with a groan.

“Is that all you have? Pathetic.”

He summoned his lightsaber, bringing it up just in time to lock with Vader’s. He grimaced, staring into Vader’s battered mask.

In. Out. In. Out. Lifeless.

The building shuddered, and a moment later Vader stepped away from him.


A durasteel bar slammed into the ground where Aryata had been an instant before. He bounded to his feet, rushing from the collapsing building.

“I think not,” Vader boomed, and he was thrown back into the building by an unyielding, invisible force. Aryata grit his teeth, landing with a roll. A duracrete beam narrowly missed his head, and he called upon the Force again. A second later, he was soaring through the hole in the roof, arcing down onto the street below.

He landed with a grunt, pain spearing up through his legs as he rolled to his feet. He whipped around, searching for his enemy.

Nothing but an empty street.

His eyes narrowed, and he began to reach out with the force, before he heard it.

The breathing.

He spun around, barely catching the Sith’s blade with his own.

“You are persistent,” Vader noted impassively, “but all it will bring you is death.”

Aryata backpedaled, frantically deflecting Vader’s strikes. A screeching noise caught his attention, and he glanced up, before flipping backwards. A second later, a large sign crashed onto the street, the display flickering out.

He gasped for breath, slowly backing up.

“Fleeing, Jedi?”

Out of nowhere, a red blade striking his own, knocking it from his grasp. He reached out for it, using the Force to pull it back to him.


It soared away from him, flying neatly into the cyborg’s palm. Vader clenched his hand, the saber breaking in his grip, and Aryata felt the crystal shatter. A pang went through his heart.

“You cannot escape now, Jedi.”

“I will fight to the end,” he replied resolutely, not betraying anything.

“So be it.”

Suddenly, his throat constricted, as if it was being crushed by an invisible hand. He was being lifted from the ground. He clutched at his throat, fear setting in as Vader’s unceasing breaths filled his awareness. Mechanical and exact. Relentless.

He had never had a chance.

“You cannot begin to match the power of the Dark Side. It was inevitable.”

Vader’s fist closed, and everything went black.



Chapter Text

Aristide’s lip curled unpleasantly, glaring down into the crate. He shook his head, turning to his companion.

“Spice. More spice.”

Sonam made a noise of agreement, scrolling through her datapad. “That is apt to happen in a galaxy where everyone and their tooka are addicts.”

He turned back to the crate. “I want to burn it.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “That doesn’t really seem super productive.”

“You know how I feel about this… stuff. It should be destroyed before it ruins more lives.”

She chuckled, finally fixing him with her gaze. “Oh? And you think that all twenty of those that would have bought this are all the sudden going to go sober? No, they’ll just buy from a different source.”

He glanced at the crate. “Every ounce of this shavit we take out of circulation is one step closer to shutting down the trade. We should burn it.”

She shrugged. “Too bad. My ship, my rules; we need funds, and there’s no better way than by selling spice.”

He snarled. “You’re contributing to the problem.”

“No, I’m just being practical and taking advantage of the problem.” He opened his mouth to retort, and she glared at him. “How about you try paying for everything; we’ll see how fast you’ll be selling spice.”



Chapter Text

It was dark. So dark. Everything, everywhere. No light. No warmth. Just dark.

It was a penetrating cold. Cutting him to the bone. Freezing. Was that it? Was he frozen?

He inhaled, exhaled. There was air. He could move. No. Not frozen.

He took a tentative step. Waiting to see what would happen. Nothing. Nothing? Nothing. Not even a sound.

He groped at his side, searching for his lightsaber. Where- wait- ah, there. He unhooked it, feeling the familiar contours of the weapon. His weapon. Like an old friend. An old friend…


She had his lightsaber! He gave it to her! When he… he died? No. Disappeared. Yes… the blue man. T-something. Thrawn.

He huffed. Stupid blue man.

Shaming his head, he returned his attention to his lightsaber. He felt for the ignition switch, flipping it.

A blade.

A green blade.


He could see!

He glanced at his body, taking in the signature orange jacket. A smile graced his lips at the sight. Tearing his attention from himself, he turned his gaze to his… surroundings.

Where was he?

It was still dark. The glow of his lightsaber illuminating nothing.

Hm… wait…

Another light. Small. Blue. Approaching. Familiar.


He shook his head. No, Sabine didn’t have a lightsaber.

Memories slowly resurfaced. A man. Eyes. Blue eyes. Then white eyes.

He gasped.


The light blinked out, and his brow furrowed.

“Hello, Ezra. It’s about time. Come quickly; there is much to do.”



Chapter Text

I hate you.

You turned her against me.

From my point of view, the Jedi are evil.

Ben Kenobi couldn’t stop staring at it. So many memories.

You underestimate my power.

A relic of a bygone era. Just like him.

Where had he gone wrong?

I see through the lies of the Jedi.

If only… he shook his head, unwilling to go down that path. What was done was done.

Don’t make me kill you.

He slammed the lid closed.



Chapter Text

“Hello there.”

“General Ken- wait, Skywalker? What the kark are you doing here?”

The Jedi Knight shrugged, his lightsaber hanging loosely in his hand. “I got bored.”

Grievous coughed. “Ah, dammit. I swear, I need a raise one of these days…”

Anakin grimaced. “You good?”

Grievous shook his head. “I’m fine, it’s just my-“ another coughing fit took him, “my Jedi allergies acting up.”

Anakin’s eyebrow raised. “And you work as a Jedi Hunter?”

“Hey, it was either this or death.”

“… ah, well, uh, that sucks. Want a cough drop?”



Chapter Text


Gromsk pelted across the sand, panting heavily.


“Hands up!” A vocoded voice yelled behind him. He ran faster.


“Hey! You! Last warning!”

His boots pounded desperately against the ground.

A screeching blaster bolt.






Chapter Text

Cal’s breath caught, hearing the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting. He spun around.

“Hello… Cal Kestis. Looking for someone?”

Merrin’s eyes were wide, flickering silently around the room as a red plasma blade hummed just next to her throat. Cal growled. “Get that away from her right now.”

The zabrak smirked. “You know, I don’t think I will…” he cackled quietly, “no… I’ve been in need of a new apprentice, and you, my friend, are quite… convenient.”

.“Let her go, Maul. Or else.”

“Ah, so you do know who I am.”

“I’ve heard things.”

“Good. That makes this easier.”

Cal’s jaw tightened, leveling his saber at Maul, attempting to aim past the captive Nightsister. “Last warning.”

Maul chuckled. “My, you care quite a bit, don’t you? What a shame… the last time a Jedi cared this much for a woman, she met an… unfortunate end.”

With a snarl, Cal Force-pulled the saber, trying to wrest it from Maul’s grip. He grunted as what felt like an invisible wall slammed into his shins, causing him to tumble forwards even as the former Sith Apprentice’s lightsaber flew across the room.
Dully, Cal heard the lightsaber clatter across the floor behind him. His eyes were wide, gaze frozen. The hum of his blade filling his mind.

Shock fluttered in her eyes.

She slowly fell backwards, slipping from the blade. Numb.


And it all came crashing down.


His lightsaber rattled against the ground, an afterthought. He fell to his knees, cradling her against his chest. Dead weight in his arms, the putrid stench of burning flesh filling his nose.

“It- no- I’m so- it’ll be-“ he gasped, tears prickling against his cheeks. She lifted a finger, placing it against his lips.

“It was not your fault… Cal Kestis…” her breaths grew shorter. His body jerked with sobs, clutching her close.

“No… Merrin… please don’t leave me… I-“ he buried his face in her hair. A small hand pressed against his shoulder, and he pulled back, finding fading eyes staring into his.

“Goodbye… Cal…”


But it was too late.

Her body grew still, truly dead weight.

“No!” He screamed, grabbing her face. “Merrin! Please! Come back… I can’t… again…”

There was no response. Nothing. And then quiet laughter, barely a whisper.

“Ah… so sad… the noble and great Jedi… broken… now, I wonder why they forbade attachments…”

Cal roared, leaping to his feet. He whipped around.


Teeth bared, he thrust out his hand, and the zabrak slammed into the wall. Cal heard the distinct snapping of bone as Maul thumped to the floor, but felt no sympathy. His fist clenched.

A howl.

Every remaining horn shattered. One after another.

Cal crouched down, yanking the man’s abused head up. He relished the wide, clouded eyes that stared back at him.

“I warned you.”

Maul opened his mouth to respond, but no air came out. He started thrashing, grabbing desperately at his throat.

Cal’s knuckles went white, his fist shaking, every vein in his hand bulging.

A final, sickening crunch, dulled by flesh. Maul went limp.

Cal watched blankly as a slithering trail of blood crept from the corner of the corpse’s mouth, dripping from the chin.

And then all came crashing down. Again.

Numbness gave way to pain, a soul searing sensation that completely overtook his awareness. He wanted it to end. All of it.

He swayed for a long moment, staring at his handiwork. Then the reality hit him through the haze.

He was a murderer.

He stumbled backwards, dropping to his knee. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. The bloodied corpse stark and crisp in his out of focus vision. Faint echoes reverberated in his mind, haunted by the noises.

The noises of death.

Then he remembered. He remembered excruciatingly.

“No…” he moaned, sobs beginning to overtake him again. A shaking hand reached out, grasping Merrin’s. “Merrin, I didn’t mean-“

It was cold.

And it all came crashing down.



Chapter Text

“Hey Skyguy.”

Anakin grunted, not looking up from his datapad.

“What’s this?” She asked, turning her own pad around and showing the screen to her master. A second later, he glanced up, before his eyes widened.

“No, no no no, you- no. Do not go there again.”


“Ahsoka, just- no. Force, if Obi-Wan had seen that… I really don’t want to have to deal with that…” he muttered, returning to his own datapad.

“Whoa, what’s-“




Chapter Text


Anakin sighed. “For the last time, Ahsoka, you’re not doing karaoke.”

“Why not?”

“We’re on a mission-“

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“-and that means we need to be focusing. This is work, not fun.”

Ahsoka didn’t answer, glancing around, before a smirk overtook her. She felt around in her pocket, pulling out a handful of credits. Anakin’s eyes narrowed.

“Well… what if I got you a drink? Y’know, because I’m so kind.”

Anakin looked at the bar longingly, before glaring at her. He crossed his arms. “I’m not Obi-Wan; alcohol bribes don’t work on me.”

Ahsoka raised a not-eyebrow, jangling the credits. Then she looked at them, feigning surprise. “Huh, there must be at least fifty right here. Enough for even a couple of glasses of Alderaanian wine…”

Anakin glanced at the bar again. Ahsoka grinned. “I might even not tell Obi-Wan you skipped that briefing…”

His eyes widened, and his hand shot out. “Alright, alright, you can go. Just give me the credits, and for the love of god, please don’t tell Obi-Wan about any of this. Including the briefing.”

She dropped the credits in his hand, already making her way towards the stage.

“Don’t worry, I won’t!” She called over her shoulder, a beaming grin stretching across her face.

“I mean it, Ahsoka!”

She was already lost in the crowd.



Chapter Text


A desert planet, devoid of rain and yet host to many diverse forms of life. These numerous life forms include but are not limited to: the vicious sarlacc, several ruthless crime bosses, people with nothing better to do than collect water, and-


Ah, yes, him too.

Anakin barreled over a sand dune, screaming unceasingly.

This is the rare Anakin Skywalker in his natural habitat.

“AHHH-“ Anakin’s screams were cut off when he lost his footing, tumbling down the dune’s massive face.

“IT’S EVERYWHERE!” He screeched, hopping around frantically, trying without much success to de-sand himself.


He tripped again, falling face-first into the sand.

Ah, well, he might be a bit emotionally scarred, but despite this, one cannot help but appreciate the glory of such a rare specimen.

“THIS WAS A PLOT BY THE JEDI! I HATE YOU ALL! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!” He shouted, writhing on the ground.

Er, yes, only a bit of scarring.



Chapter Text

The lock clicked open, and he stepped through the door. A thousand sounds assaulted him. The clank of pots and pans in the kitchen, his wife’s joyous humming. His daughter’s babbling. A crash as her grav-block tower tumbled to the floor.

His eyes closed for a moment, taking it in.

He strode to the kitchen, approaching his wife from behind. Hugging her. A dozen foreign scents filled his nose, forming a mouth watering aroma that he couldn’t quite place.

She laughed. “Stop it, silly. I’m busy here, can’t you see?” He grinned back, but didn’t feel it fully. He captured her in his arms, kissing her.

“You know I love you, yeah?”

She smiled. “Of course I do. And I love you too.”

He squeezed her tight, before letting go.

“Goodbye, love.”

She gave him an amused look. “You’re just going in the other room. So dramatic.” She swatted his arm playfully. “Food’ll be ready in a couple minutes, aye?”

He nodded, moving into the other room.


He beamed, dropping to his knees and stretching his arms out. A tiny bundle of energy slammed into him, knocking him over.

“Hello, Princess,” he said, taking her giggling form off his chest. “How was your day?”

“It was awesome! Mommy took me on a speeder ride, and we fed the Kondaaks by the pond! Then we came back home and made cookies!”

He laughed. “Did you? That sounds amazing.”

She nodded vigorously. “It was. What did you do today?”

His smile grew somber, and he stared into his daughter’s eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed, her young brain working to understand what was going on. He stroked her cheek.

“I love you, Princess.”

She smiled innocently, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.”

He buried his face in her hair, smelling the shampoo he had used to wash it not even a day previously. A tear crept down his cheek.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?”

He smiled, rubbing her back. “Nothing’s wrong, Princess. It’ll all be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

He put his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure.”

She smiled.

And then caught fire.

“No!” He screamed, frantically trying to extinguish the flames. But he was too late. Far too late.

He numbly watched ash flow from his hands into his lap. The finer particles drifted to the floor, coating it in a thin layer of death.

“Why did you do it?”

He jerked, whipping around to see his wife standing there, tears in her eyes, staining her apron.

“Why did you kill me?”

He was frozen by her gaze. He wanted to say so much. But he couldn’t.

Their time was past.

He looked down at his shaking hand, ash flittering from it.

“Why did you kill her?”

It was a whisper, so quiet, yet so loud, so cataclysmic, that his world crashed down. The cracks finally giving way.


Darth Vader’s eyes burst open. Everything was white and black. Cold and sterile. He shuddered, his head racing. Yet his breaths remained constant. Mechanical. Unnatural.

His eyes prickled with tears he could not weep. That had been taken from him. Along with his limbs. His lungs. His mind.

His love.

Consumed by the darkness, entombed in a torture cell of durasteel. Doomed to his fate.

Outside his tank, a droid exploded.



Chapter Text

“Do you mind?”

Ahsoka snickered, stealing another fry. Anakin groaned, rolling his eyes. “Get your own!”

Ahsoka bit her lip, looking upwards with a finger on her chin. “Nope!” She said after a moment.

She stole another fry.

Anakin gave her a flat stare, before standing up. “I’m going to go buy more. Don’t get yourself killed.”

She shrugged, her focus entirely on the now completely undefended fries.

“Little bugger,” he muttered under his breath, striding away from their table.

“I heard that!”



Chapter Text

Kar’jal flailed against the grip of the clone, attempting to break free.


But there would be no answer. No answer but blasterfire. A red hail of death.

But he couldn’t leave her there. She had to be alive. He had to save her.

He had to save her.


“No! Let me-“

“Kar! She’s gone! We have to go!”

“No!” He shrieked, fighting desperately. The screams of blasterfire grew closer.

“I’m sorry, Kar,” the clone said in his ear, before picking him up.


He had to save her.

“Vy!” A clone yelled, beckoning at the soldier holding him. “Let’s go! They’re almost here!”

Tears stained his vision, his muscles burned, but he kept fighting. At some point, in the back of his mind he registered the gunship lifting off, but payed it no attention.

“Someone, get a sedative!”


He jerked, feeling a needle enter his arm, but it was too late.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry.”

And then it was black.



Chapter Text

“Ahsoka!” Anakin gasped, rushing into the room. A flash of blue, and the padawan fell from her shackles into his arms. He heard the thumps of boots as the 501st flooded into the room, securing it. Her eyes flittered open.

“Hey… Skyguy…”


She smiled weakly. “What’re… you doin’?”

“Ahsoka, we’ve rescued you. You’re okay now.”

“D’worry… I didn’t give away any… secr’s…” her eyes closed.

“What?” He asked. “No, no, Ahsoka, you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“Mm… yeah… m’fine… d’need t’wery…” her eyes fluttered open, then closed. He felt her go slack in his arms, and her life-force fade. His heart raced, eyes wide.

“No. No! Ahsoka! Medic! We need a medic right now!”

A clone rushed over, pulling out a variety of devices as he frantically went to work.

It was too late.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

But Anakin couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything. A spark made itself known in his gut as he stared at her rapidly cooling body. The spark suddenly snapped into a flame, quickly growing into a raging inferno, consuming his entire being.

“Sir, your robes are on fire. Would like me to get some water?”



Chapter Text

It looked like a dessert.

Sabine stared down at the swirling colors that made up Haskar.

Blue… white… it looked like some sort of frozen treat. One big, super-hot, galactic frozen treat.

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes. She needed sleep.

But she couldn’t. The Empire could show up at any minute, and she had to be ready to jump in a turret and blow some TIEs into dust. This planet most likely wouldn’t hide them forever.

She sighed, her breath visible in the cold air. All non-essential functions were to be shut down, Hera had said. They needed every drop of fuel if they were going to get out alive.

Apparently heating wasn’t a critical function.

She placed a hand on the glass, feeling the almost searing chill.

Kanan and Hera, they’d tried to keep morale up. To act normal. To act like they’d get out of this one fine. Just like they had every other time.

But she saw. She saw the feathering of Kanan’s jaw as he went about his tasks. The crinkling of Hera’s eyes as she put on a cheery face, even as her gaze held emptiness. She saw as even Chopper stayed oddly somber.

She slowly traced the eye of the storm on the window. It was the darkest blue spot. Fifty-thousand miles wide. Spinning so fast that it crept around in circles before her very eyes. So slow from where she stood, half a million miles away, yet fast enough to tear her to shreds if she had been anywhere near it. Dead in an instant.

Well, it was looking like her fate would be pretty similar to that regardless.

The low rumble of Zeb’s voice met her ears, and though she was unable to understand exactly what he was saying, the sound of him made her relax. Just a bit.

She had been in dangerous situations for years and years, always brushing close to death, but always surviving. Yet she had never quite thought about it. About death. She had always been in and out so fast, so suddenly, that it was always over by the time she had the opportunity to consider it. And then she was moving on.

This time, though. This time she had to wait. To stand at attention and await the arrival of death. She finally had the time to think it over. To consider it.

So many questions, too many uncomfortable answers.

She knew she should paint. Hide herself away in her room and just ignore it all. Like she always did. But something made her stop.

If she was going to die, would she want to spend her last moments alone, staring at an imitation of life? When she could be looking at life in its true glory?

“Hey,” a quiet voice said, and Sabine jumped, whipping around and reaching for her blaster. “Hey, hey, it’s just me. No need to shoot me a new hole.”

A small smile crept onto Sabine’s face as she lowered her hand. She stood on her tip-toes, knocking her forehead against Ezra’s.

“Su’cuy, cyar’ika.”

He grinned, his eyes bright and smile wide as he looked at her, even in the atmosphere of despair that dominated the Ghost. “Su’cuy. You done being moody down here, love?” He stretched his arms.

She chuckled, accepting his invitation and relaxing into his embrace. She purred as his fingers idly began running through her hair. He laughed, rumbling against her back. “You like that, eh?”

She swatted at him, twisting her head back to look him in the eyes. “You know I do. Now keep going.”

He laughed again, and her stomach to flipped. “As my lady commands,” he said lowly, and began again. She almost collapsed then and there.

He snickered, and she swatted at him again, though a smile was firmly affixed to her face. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

He smirked. “What do you mean? I’m not enjoying this at all…”

She nearly moaned as his other hand went to her shoulders, automatically knowing just where to work. She heard him snicker.

“Oh, shab off,” she said halfheartedly, almost entirely limp against his chest.

“Oh? I mean, if you want me to go…”

She spun around fast as lightning, grabbing him. “Oh, no you shabla don’t.”

He chuckled, giving her that infuriating half-smirk that she couldn’t help but be melted by. He gently spun her back around, taking her into his arms and resuming his ministrations. She smiled, feeling the tender touch of her riduur. This was what she wanted to be doing in her last moments.

“Ni kyr'tayli gar darasuum, Ezra.”

“Ni kyr'tayli gar darasuum, Sabine.”

This was life in its true glory.



Chapter Text

“What color was your armor originally?”

Sabine’s hand stayed, her mind torn from the painting she’d been working on. She had barely noticed Ezra was in the room. She turned. “Grey and yellow. The colors of my clan.”

“Sounds boring,” he smirked. She nodded.

“Which is why I changed it to look like this,” she replied, motioning to her vividly colored armor. She turned back to her painting, carefully adding lines.

“Why those colors?”

She turned again. “Why what colors? The ones on my armor, or the ones my clan use?”

He shrugged. “Both.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Well, I paint my armor with these colors because I like them. Also, they’re the ones I have on hand.” She gestured to her box of paint cans. “And my clan use yellow and grey because…” she bit her lip for a moment, “I don’t know, actually. That’s just how it’s always been done.”

He nodded. “Seems as good a reason as any, I guess.”

She nodded slowly, still thinking.

“Uh, hey, uh, your paint’s drying.”



Chapter Text

“Is that my shirt?”

“You mean our shirt?”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “No, I mean my shirt. See how it’s entirely orange, and was in my closet with all of my other orange shirts?”

Sabine smirked. “You lost all rights to those clothes when you kissed me for the first time. I’m just graciously allowing you to partake in ownership.”

“Really? I remember very clearly paying my hard stolen money for those shirts back on Lothal.”

“Like I said: you forfeited ownership.”

He stared at her. “Why do you want to wear my shirts anyways? Don’t you have your own?”

She shrugged. “I like yours better.”

His gaze was blank. “Why?”

“You smell nice,” she said simply, walking over to him and kissing his cheek, before slipping past. He blinked, turning to watch her walk down the hall. He shook his head.

“Unbelievable…” he muttered under his breath. “Lucky I can’t fit into her armor…”



Chapter Text

“What are you doing?” Ezra asked, opening his eyes and glaring down at her, his meditation having been abruptly interrupted by Sabine’s head. She grinned at him.

“You took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one.”

“You do know that I’m sitting on said pillows, right? You know, because my normal meditation pillow got torched by Chopper?”

She nodded, still smiling. He opened his mouth, about to protest further, before shaking his head. He looked back down at her, ignoring her smug grin. “Is that even comfortable?”

She shrugged. “Sort of.”

He sighed, picking himself up and displacing her head. Her face contorted, and her mouth opened, but she was quickly mollified when he sat back down again, this time with his legs stretched out in a normal seating position. He patted his thighs, and her grin sprang back, twice as large. A second later, her head was back in his lap.

“Ah… now that’s more like it… your knees were really digging into my neck before.”

He shook his head once more, but a small smile stubbornly affixed itself to his face. He flicked her nose. “Now, can I go back to meditating?”

She swatted his hand away. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

He nodded, closing his eyes and beginning the exercise again. Several seconds later, his concentration was broken again as Sabine began wiggling her head in his lap. He groaned, before glaring down at her.

“What?” She asked, wide eyed, though a small smirk tugged at her lips, betraying her. His gaze narrowed.

“I know where your paint is stored…”



Chapter Text

Ezra grimaced at the door, trying to think of a way of getting through that avoided permanent damage. He glanced down at the console, resolving to give it one last shot.

A couple taps later, it flashed red, and the door remained firmly closed. He growled, pounding his fist against the unyielding metal surface. He grit his teeth, trying to remember the passcode Hera had given him.

“Having trouble?”

A voice interrupted his musings, and he turned around. Before him stood Sabine, clad in her signature painted armor, and her hand firmly placed on her hip. He gestured at the door. “This stupid thing won’t open.”

“Did you try using the code?”

“Of course.”

She strode past him, bending over slightly as she fiddled with the console. A second later, it flashed green, and the door hissed open. She turned back to him as his eyebrows raised.

“What did you do?” He asked.

“I used the code.”

He gave a flat stare.



Chapter Text

“Can I take your lightsaber apart?”

Ezra glanced away from his datapad, and over at Sabine. His brow furrowed. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve wanted to for a while, but Kanan would never let me do anything to his.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” he said dryly, but tossed it to her nonetheless. “Just don’t break it.”

She nodded absently, already engrossed in inspecting the device. He shook his head, a small smile clinging to his face as he turned back to his task. It immediately morphed into a grimace.

Right, he thought, ration prices.



Chapter Text

“Er, Ezra?”


“Your nose is bleeding.”

His hand went up to his face, and came away red. His eyes widened. “Ah, kriff.”

“You should probably get some absorbants,” Sabine said.

“Really? Wow. Thank you for the insight.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” She punched his shoulder, strolling past him. “Seriously though, stop the blood; Hera’ll have you scrubbing it out of whatever you get it on with your toothbrush.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered, already moving towards the refresher.



Chapter Text

“Hey, Sabine!”

Sabine turned. “Yes?”

“What score’d you get on that exam?”

“Which one?”

“The explosives one,” Ketsu clarified.


Ketsu’s eyebrows shot up, before she shook her head. “You’re scary.”

Sabine grinned, punching the other girl’s shoulder. “Good. Now come on; Fayrim is going to kill us if we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”



Chapter Text

“Alright: fuck, marry, kill… Vader, Tarkin, Sloane.”

TK-2645 spat out his drink, frantically wiping the liquid from his chest as his squadmates roared with laughter. He sighed, glancing at TK-2136’s smirking face. “Just… why? Like, Sloane is normal, but Tarkin and Vader?”

They all fell back into a second round of hysterics. Finally, he pulled himself together, and began considering his options. “Okay… um…” he grimaced, “fuck Sloane, uh, kill Vader, marry Tarkin?”

“Oh, you don’t want to fuck Vader? Damn, I would’ve thought you would totally be into that droid dick.”



Chapter Text

“Lord Vader, the scan has completed. She has no way out. Orders?”

He stared out the viewport for a moment, watching lightning flash on the planet’s surface through red tinted lenses. “Prepare a shuttle. Inform squad one that we are departing at oh-five-hundred.”

“Yes sir.”

Vader listened as the officer’s footfalls receded, before turning his attention back to the planet before him. His eyes narrowed behind the helmet.

“You will not escape me this time, Ahsoka.”



Chapter Text

Everything about her was a lie.

Anakin grit his teeth, contemplating his newly empty bank account. How was he supposed to know that there really weren’t hot singles looking for love in his area? Obi-Wan had never taught him about this.

He shook his head. It hadn’t been his fault he had been lied to.

“Now… how to explain this to the council…”



Chapter Text

Her only way out was through the entrance to the tunnel.

She clenched her jaw and set her shoulders back, mentally preparing herself. “Alright… alright…” she muttered, and began walking forward. Her hand planted itself on her blaster’s grip. Dull thumps echoed around her as she strode towards the light. Five yards. Four yards. Three yards.

Her step faltered, but she forced herself onwards, heart racing. She had to escape. She had to.

Two yards. One yard.

She paused at the entrance, glancing around carefully. She winced as an ear piercing shriek made itself know, accompanied by a massive shadow that swept across the landscape. Her body froze, save for the slight trembling of her hands.

“Oh, hell no,” she said, slinking back into the tunnel.



Chapter Text

As she searched, her movements were frantic.

“No… no, no… I can’t…” she muttered, emptying her purse. She exhaled forcefully, whipping around and throwing a drawer open.

“Er, what’s going on?” Han asked, entering the room. “I heard things-“

“I need my presentation. It was on a datachip and I meant to back it up last night, but Ben wasn’t sleeping and I forgot,” she told him, still going through her desk.

“Oh, this one?”

Leia spun around. “Yes, that one. Where did you get that?”

He handed it to her. “It was on your desk.”



Chapter Text

“Hey, hey, you.”

Aya turned, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Okay…” she said slowly, her brow furrowed. “What do you want?”

A grin stretched across his face. “Ah, excellent. Someone listened. I need to send a message, but I can’t do it myself, unfortunately.”


He pulled a paper letter from his coat, and her brow furrowed further. People hadn’t used real paper, let alone real letters for ten-thousand years. Still, she grabbed it from him after a moment.

“The address is written on it.”

She looked down, turning it over in her hands, before reading it. “Okay… uh, yeah, goodbye,” she hurriedly said, the man’s presence setting her on edge. He grinned again.

“Goodbye! Have a good rest of your day!”

“Yeah…” she muttered, merging back with the crowds.

He sat still for several minutes, before getting up and checking his datapad. A couple swipes later, and a program labeled ‘Pockmarker’ was activated.

A moment later, many quite a bit away, several levels were annihilated in a fiery blaze, leaving nothing left but smoking corpses and shattered buildings.



Chapter Text

“I feel much… conflict in you, apprentice.”

“It is nothing, master,” Vader replied.

“The boy. You wish to make an inquisitor of him.”

Vader stayed silent for moment. “Yes.”

“Convince me.”

Vader turned, pushing aside his momentary spike of surprise. “To kill him would be a waste of a potential recruit, especially one of such power. I propose a fake execution, so as to not aggravate the public.”

“The commonfolk thirst for blood. If this… scheme is ever to be found out-“

“Then the reward will still be worth the risk.”

Palpatine stared at him for a second, before a small smile stretched across his face, yellowed and twisted teeth baring themselves to the world. “You continue to impress, Lord Vader. See that it is done.”



Chapter Text


Anakin jumped, whipping around towards the door. A pajama-clad Ahsoka stared at him.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he said, glancing down at the noodle bowl in his hands. “What’re you doing up?”

She blinked owlishly. “I could ask the same of you.”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Got hungry.”

She made a grunting noise of acceptance and shuffled past him, opening the fridge. A second later, she turned to him, eyes narrowed. “What, exactly, happened to my noodles?”



Chapter Text

“Hey, what’s a ten letter word that starts with ‘g’ and means to push someone into taking action?”

Anakin poured himself a glass of meiloorun juice. “Those things are impossible.”

“Glamor… izer?” She guessed. “And anyways, Obi-Wan is able to finish them.”

“Obi-Wan is a freak of nature. Try ‘galvanizer’.”

She shrugged assent, and wrote Anakin’s guess. She pumped her fist a moment later. “Thanks, Master. Now, all I need to do is figure out the other nineteen words.”

He took a sip of his juice, and turned away. “Ok, good luck. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”




Chapter Text

Zander grimaced. “I am not flying my ship through that.”

“Come on, we need this.”

He turned to her. “Yeah, well, unless you want to be scrubbing carbon-scoring off the hull for the next twenty years, we’re skipping this. We’re desperate, but not that desperate.”

She sighed. “Fine, but you’re finding the next one.”



Chapter Text

He grimaced, inspecting the wound. “Er… I mean, at least it’s cauterized…?”

She stared at him. “My arm was karking severed.”

“Well, now you won’t need to deal with infection.”



Chapter Text

“Wanna buy some death sticks?”

Obi-Wan glanced down at the man, before looking around the bar. He nodded upon seeing that Anakin was occupied, and turned back to him. “Sure. How much?”



Chapter Text

Ezra stared up at the stars of Lothal, running it back over in his mind. Again. What could he have done differently, he wondered. Could he have saved him? There had to have been something. Something he could’ve done. There had to have been something. He shivered, and the flames burned in his vision once again.

There had to have been something.

“Ez?” A small voice in the darkness.

He turned, a small part of him warming at the sound of her voice. “Hey, Sabine,” he said, his voice quiet, worn down to a dull rasp by tears.

She shuffled over to him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wore no armor; just a plain tunic and leggings. “I need someone to hold me,” she whispered.

He opened his arms wordlessly.

She practically collapsed into his lap, burying her face in his chest. A second later, she began shaking.

He held her tighter, even as tears prickled in his own eyes. Just when he had thought he couldn’t cry more. Just when he though he’d had no more tears to spend.

“I miss him,” Sabine mumbled.

He squeezed her, vision swimming. “I do too.”



Chapter Text

Obi-Wan strode through the doors to Cex’s Coffeehouse, walking up to the counter.

“Kenobi? Is that you? I don’t believe you were that wrinkled last time we saw each other,” Cex said, grinning. “What can I get you?”

“Unless there’s some other handsome Jedi running around, I do believe it’s me. Just a black will suffice, thank you,” he replied.

She inclined her head with a laugh. “I see the years have not changed you much. Please, take a seat over there.” She waved to an empty table. “I’ll have it ready in a moment.”

“Thank you,” he said, and turned away. A second later, he was relaxing into the wonderfully cushy seats. He remembered fondly taking refuge in the cafe during his padawan days. He’d always preferred it over Dex’s Diner, if only due to the fact that it was so much comfier. He turned upon hearing footsteps approach.

“Here you are,” the Besalisk said, setting a steaming mug down on his table. He leaned forward.

The smell assaulted him, dozens of memories resurfacing in a tidal wave of nostalgia. He peered inside the chipped duraporcelain cup, and found that the coffee was just the same as it had been all those years before. Before Anakin, and before the war.

Oh, those were the days.

“Thank you,” he told her, grasping the handle and bringing the cup to his mouth. She grinned at him.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

He chuckled, and took a sip. Despite the scalding heat, he enjoyed the bitter flavor it left on his tongue. He looked up at her, where she still stood, watching. “Did you change the recipe?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Privately grown beans straight from Garlat. The process is still the same, too.”

“Will you finally tell me your secret?”

She laughed, a tinkling sound, uplifting to his heavy heart. “Not a chance.” She winked at him. “How else will I keep you coming back?”



Chapter Text

Ezra awakened to a person squirming next to him.

He grunted, opening his eyes and trying to identify who it was. “What’s going on?”

He heard a quiet string of Mandalorian curses. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What are you doing?” He asked, adjusting to allow her more room.

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

He sighed. “I assume there’s no point in complaining?”

“Nope,” she said, and pecked him on the lips. “Now, sleep.”



Chapter Text

“Does it hurt?”

Kanan smiled, his head turned to face his son. “No, not anymore.”

“Did it hurt?”

He chuckled. “Yes, it did.”

“How much? Did it hurt a lot?”

Kanan nodded. “It did hurt a lot, yeah. But I got better.”

He turned as the door hissed open, and Hera entered, a burning beacon of passion and joy in the Force. “Hey,” he said. “How was the flight? Is everyone doing fine?”

“Yes, it was fine. Long and uneventful. They’re good. Sabine and Ezra are getting ready to go off with Luke to some backwater slimehole. There’s a temple there he wants to investigate.”

Kanan felt Jacen’s finger trace the scar on his face. “Interesting. And Zeb?”

“Same old,” she said, sliding next to him and leaning on his shoulder. “The Lasats are still trying to get him to become their leader. He’s still fighting.”

“How long do you bet until he folds?”

She chuckled. “I don’t give him more than a year, at most.”

Jacen interjected. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt? It looks like it hurts.”

He pressed a kiss against the boy’s forehead. “It doesn’t hurt one bit.”



Chapter Text

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, tears flowing down his face, puddling on the cold metal floor. He shuddered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “You- I- I didn’t-“ he gasped again, sobbing silently. “I’m sorry.” His voice broke.

He wanted to scream. To kill. To destroy every atom of this place. He wanted to watch her killer’s blood flow as they bled out. He wanted them to feel the same pain she had when she’d died. “I’m sorry.”

He still had time. Before they came. He still had time.

He unclipped his lightsaber, his hands shaking. Shaking so much. Against his will, he glanced at her again. At the burn marks, the scorched skin. The severed lek. The blackened montrals. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Where had it gone wrong?

He ignited his lightsaber, and in one quick motion, slashed its burning blue blade across his wrist. The pain was so much. So, so much. He wanted it to end. Right then.

He sobbed. Audibly, this time. Where had it gone wrong? She was supposed to join him. Why had she fought? Why?

Where had it gone wrong?!

He clawed at the wound. It felt as if his hand was aflame. He was glad.

He pulled his mechanical hand away, blood coating the glove. It wasn’t enough.

A furious, wounded roar burst forth, and he tore at it again. His padawan, however long it had been since she had borne that title, was dead! The pain fueled him, morphing into fury, which in turn resulted in more pain. Ironic, a small part of him noted. He began to feel lightheaded, but his efforts did not cease.

The blood came quicker, and a pool had formed, staining the well of his tears red. A deep, angry red. The cold body in his arms, so small and fragile, was barely even there anymore. Nothing was there anymore. It was him, blood, and hatred. Hatred of himself. Hatred of the world.

And then he stopped.

He stopped and stared. Watching.

And suddenly, his raging wrath disappeared. Retreated. It cooled, hardened into a icy fury. He watched, his very life draining before his eyes. He watched.

Footsteps sounded behind him, quiet at first, then louder. A familiar presence. The pool rippled with each step.

The blood kept flowing. His vision began to swim. The footsteps grew even closer. They were close.

Then, they stopped.

“Anakin… what have you done?”

He did not remove his gaze from the wound. “I’m sorry.”

He slumped to the floor, and unconsciousness took him.



Chapter Text

“Did you hear Zeb earlier?” Sabine asked, and Ezra chuckled.

“It would’ve been hard not to. What happened?”

Sabine snickered. “Apparently Chopper’s treads got messed up, and he smashed into Zeb in the hallway.”

Ezra began laughing, and she found herself laughing alongside him. “That went so much better than I thought it was going to go,” he said, and she twisted around to face him.

“Ezra!” She grabbed him and smacked his face with the pillow, though she had a grin that matched his own. “That could’ve gone very badly!”

“Hey, it was fine! I made sure that I could undo it if we had a surprise mission,” he protested, grabbing a pillow as well. He struck her with it, and her eyes narrowed.

“You have no idea what you’ve unleashed. Never pick a fight with a Mando. Especially not a pillow fight.”

“Bring it on!”



Chapter Text

“Hey, Snips.”

Ahsoka made a noise in the back of her throat, not looking up from her datapad.

“What does a chrono do when it’s hungry?”

She shrugged.

“It goes back four seconds.”

She was silent for a second, before she sighed and looked up. “Master, that sucked.”

He huffed. “Wow, okay, you don’t have to be mean about it.”



Chapter Text

“… Master…”

Anakin stirred, a groan escaping him.

“Master,” the voice repeated. Ahsoka.

His eyes flicked open, and found his padawan staring down at him. He groaned again, as her arms quickly wrapped around him, squeezing with a strength her small frame belied. “Uh, hey, Snips? Ease it up a bit, please.”

She quickly retracted, apologizing. He waved it off, and glanced around the room. Everything was drenched in a soft white that you could only ever find in a medbay. He grimaced, memories of time spent in the medbay making themselves known. He broke into a coughing fit, and turned back to Ahsoka.

“Where are we?” He asked hoarsely after the fit had subsided.

“We’re on the Negotiator. Remember Gadren?”

He shook his head.

“Ah,” she glanced away uncomfortably for a second, then focusing on him once again. “Well, you got caught by a plasma mine. You’re intact, but full of holes.”

He nodded slowly, before swiftly lifting up the covers on his bed.

“I wouldn’t-“

“Karking hell; you didn’t say there was that much blood!”



Chapter Text

“Hold it right there, Skywalker, or I’ll blow a hole right through her pretty head.”

Anakin’s jaw clenched, but he did as the man said.

“Now drop the laser sword and stick your hands where I can see ‘em.”

The clank of his lightsaber striking the floor make his heart sink immediately.

“Excellent. Where’s the holocron? I know you have it. Remember, pretty face here can be made pretty dead in an instant.”

“Don’t do it, Master!” Ahsoka’s desperate voice chimed in. Despite all that had happened, she was still fighting. It was a relief.

He thought for a long second, but his calculations were cut clean off by the man. “Lay it on the floor within five seconds, or she dies.”

He growled, and stuck a hand in his pocket. A moment later, he lobbed the artifact to the floor, the cube clattering across the ground. A second later, it shot from the ground into the man’s hand.

“Ah… perfect… what else…?”

“I did my part,” Anakin ground out, and the man snapped his fingers.

“Oh, of course, how could I forget? It’ll be at least two-thirds of my paycheck,” he announced cheerfully.

And then his blaster fired.



Chapter Text

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, Skyguy!”

Anakin pressed his body against the wall, gasping for air as loudly as he dared. Where was she? He strained to try and hear footsteps, but heard nothing. He grit his teeth.

“Oh, master, I tire of this game. If you reveal yourself, I’ll kill you quickly. If not, well…” she trailed off, leaving the threat hanging in the air. A shiver went down his spine, but he didn’t move. Silence stretched on for seconds, and then minutes. Had she gone? Was she still stalking him? He didn’t know. He had to move. He couldn’t take it. He shifted to stand up, then froze.

“Why, hello there, Skyguy.”

A flash of burning red.



Chapter Text

“Tell me, Lord Vader, what do you desire?”

“You know what I want, Master.”

“Humor me.”

Vader didn’t respond for several seconds. “Padme.”

The Emperor smiled, something that most beings in the galaxy would wish to never witness. “What if I told you that there was a way you could see her again…?”



Chapter Text


Boba groaned. “Why can’t I sleep in.”

“Up, now, or you’ll clean out the engine tonight.”

The boy huffed, climbing from bed and onto his feet. “Why do I have to be up so early, dad?”

Jango gave him a look. “You know why. Now, go run the preflights.”

Boba grumbled, but trudged towards the cockpit anyways. “Early hunter catches the prey? More like early hunter gets sleep deprived.”



Chapter Text

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

“I want to watch a horror.”

She groaned, grabbing at the projector. “Why? They’re so stupid, and they aren’t even scary.”

He waved a hand haphazardly, still clicking through the holos as he tried kept the device away for his padawan. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re boring.”

Her eyes narrowed. “At least I don’t scream at every single jumpscare!”



Chapter Text

The Eleventh Brother sighed, cracking his neck. He glanced down at his helmet, inspecting the fresh coat of black paint. Pride swelled in him at the sight, a grin making its way onto his face. He unclipped his seatbelt, snatching the helmet up as he climbed to his feet. A second later, it slid over his head, blocking out his vision for a moment. And then, it lit up.

He took note of the small chrono display in the corner, calculating that they would arrive within minutes, if the pilot’s estimate had been correct. He brushed aside the thought, starting towards the cockpit, his mind slipping into work mode, running calculations and checks. He automatically ran through his orders, and then his preparations, checking them off of his mental list as he went. Ecstasy coursed through him for not the first time, the realization that he was finally going on a mission hitting him. Finally, after all the training.

“Sir,” the pilot said as he stepped in, her hand snapping up. The Eleventh Brother stalked up the the viewport, drawing up to his full height —as short as he was— behind the navigator’s chair.

“When will we arrive?” He asked, his voice distorted by the helmet, cold and deadly. He stared out at the dark planet before them, noticing bright clusters where the dome-cities laid.

“Three minutes, sir. We entered atmosphere one minute ago.”

“Why did you not alert me?” His head turned, gazing down at her. He felt her fear in the Force, and smiled.

“I- uh, I thought it would be wiser to wait until we were closer to the dome, sir. I was about to inform you just a moment ago,” she replied, her voice quivering almost unnoticeably. He felt a measure of approval at her control.

“You are lucky I am merciful,” he said, after a long moment. “However,” he continued, feeling her relief, “do not let it happen again, or you will suffer a far more lasting lesson.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He was once again silent for a moment, before turning and striding from the cockpit, his boots thumping against the metal on his way out.



Chapter Text

“Hai, where’s my lightsaber?”

“Check your desk.”

A second of near silence, save the sound of drawers being slammed open and closed. “It’s not here!”

“Huh. Where-“

“Oh, wait, found it! It was on my belt!”

Hai facepalmed.



Chapter Text

“Why…?” Kanan asked feebly, staring up from the floor as he clutched his stomach. His brow was furrowed. “Where did I fail…?”

“I had to,” Ezra whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks. “He would kill me if I didn’t.” He shook, practically falling to the ground, lying beside his master.


Ezra was silent for a moment. “He’ll kill me…”

“Who?” Kanan asked more forcefully, despite his now laborious breathing.

“The demon. Malachor.”

“That long?”

“He’ll kill me…”

“I’m sorry, Ezra.”



Chapter Text

Hera sighed, watching Boba step away from the smoking corpse. He turned around, walking back over to her as normality returned to the bar.

“Cyar’ika, you don’t have to keep doing that,” she said, knocking her forehead against his helmet as he sat down. He glanced at her.

“‘Lek, I do. They need to learn somehow, and a marev to the face is as good a method as any,” he replied, snaking his arm around her shoulders.

She glanced over at the pile of lifeless bodies in the corner, and then at the bouncer who was dragging the latest unfortunate patron over to it. “I think you’re giving them a bit more than just a marev to the face.”

He waved a hand. “Details.”

She smiled, shaking her head, before getting to her feet. “How about we go home before you cause an interplanetary incident? I’m sure we can… find something to do,” she said, a smirk crossing her face. He chuckled lowly.

“I’m sure we can.”



Chapter Text

“Have you ever witnessed the effects of spice overdose?” Aristide asked. The twi’lek shrugged, though his movements were inhibited by his bindings. Aristide began pacing.

“No. Why do you care?”

A wolfish grin took Aristide’s face. “Why?” He chuckled darkly. “Because I have. I’ve had men, women- hell, even children, die in my arms. Because of spice.” A look of fury flashed on his face, but was immediately quashed, and his expression returned to its standard cold reservedness. “Children. Children. Are you grasping this fully? Children,” he repeated, anger flickering again.

The twi’lek’s muscles were tensed —in fight or flight mode, Aristide reckoned with an icy satisfaction— but he once again shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just the dealer. What people choose to do with the stuff isn’t my problem.”

Aristide ceased his pacing, stopping in front of his captive. He leaned down, his face leveling with the twi’lek’s. “Yes, I suppose it isn’t,” he said slowly, his gaze locked unblinkingly on the twi’lek’s eyes. “Who cares what happens to them? It’s their problem they overdosed. It’s their problem they died. It’s their problem they left behind grieving friends and family. It’s all them. You’re innocent, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

Aristide’s ice blue eyes crinkled, his lips twitching upwards the smallest bit. “Yes… yes… you’re safe in your little moral loophole, aren’t you? Yes. You are. I’d like to change that. Maybe shock some morality into you. If you survive, that is, though I find that unlikely…”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of pink-red liquid. “This,” he said, almost bored-sounding as he inspected it, “is Sansanna spice. I’m sure you’re familiar with it, seen as this very batch came from your hold. Terribly dangerous. Especially in such a form, would you not agree?”

The twi’lek swallowed, his breathing slightly faster than normal, but still did not respond as he stared at the bottle.

“I know what you’re thinking. And the answer is yes. So, unless you’d like me to cut a hole in your throat, drink. And don’t worry, I have backups, and if you misbehave, I will not hesitate to reach for the scalpel.”

He straightened back up, placing the bottle on a table besides the chair, and then drawing a roll of clear tubing from his pocket. He inserted the tube into the bottle, and then held the other end in front of the twi’lek’s face. “Open up.”

He obliged.

“Excellent,” Aristide said after putting the tube in his mouth. “Your cooperation is… much appreciated. Now,” he turned around, heading for the door, “unless you are exceedingly lucky, you will be dead by the two hour mark. Enjoy the high on your way, though.” He stopped, looking back, meeting wide eyes. “You may even have the opportunity to consider everything we’ve spoken about, and so much more… assuming you’ll be lucid enough.”

And then the door slammed shut.



Chapter Text

“This is Grand Admiral Thrawn. Abandon ship. I repeat: abandon ship.”

“Sir! What are you doing?”

Thrawn inclined his head, placing. “Initiating the Chimera’s self destruct function via the captain’s word method, Commodore.”

Faro’s eyes were wide. “Sir- you can come with us! You can escape!”

He shook his head calmly, as if this were another of his carefully planned miracles. She knew better. “Lord Vader has one specialty: killing. He will not allow me to get away alive. You, however, can retreat and continue the fight. You’re now in command, Commodore. Do not abandon your post.”

An alarm went off.

“They are almost here,” Thrawn said. “Leave. That’s an order, Faro.”

Tears prickled at her eyes, but she nodded, before snapping her hand up in a salute. “Sir.”

Thrawn mirrored the gesture.

And then she left.

Thrawn turned back to the console, swiftly punching in a code. It beeped, asking for confirmation. He pressed a key.

The doors slammed shut.

He nodded in satisfaction, watching a timer appear, and then begin counting down. He turned his attention out the viewport, awaiting the arrival of his death. He was not disappointed.

A red blade suddenly protruded from one of the doors, rapidly carving a hole in its center. A second later, a chunk of the door flew inwards, and a completely black clad, armored figure stepped through the hole, into the room.

“Thrawn,” it said, after a moment.

“Skywalker. My, this is ironic, is it not?”

“Get the self-destruct,” Vader ordered, motioning at the console, ignoring Thrawn.

“I, twice a traitor, killed by you, once a traitor. I suppose we’re all demons in hell.”

Vader’s boots clanged against the polished metal floor as he approached Thrawn, his lightsaber still lit a blood red, throwing crimson shadows across his twisted mask. “Mind games are no use to the dead.”

Thrawn finally turned, coming face to face with the monster. “On the contrary, mind games are all the dead have, isn’t that so, Skywalker?”

“Sir! This thing- it’s all in some weird language; my helmet doesn’t recognize it!”

A thin smile appeared on Thrawn’s face. “Ah, I must’ve forgotten about that.”

Somewhere deep in the ship, a rumble sounded. A moment later, a flash of light. Then, a wave of fire. Glorious fire.

Somewhere off the starboard side of the ship, Commadore Faro watched, eyes teary, as the ISD Chimera detonated.



Chapter Text

“Anakin, what is that?”

Anakin gasped, practically leaping out of his skin, before quickly wiping away the white powder. He turned, hastily stuffing a straw in his pocket. “What is what, Master?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I’d start with the stuff on your hands.”

Anakin glanced at his hands, his eyes widening. “Uh, I was… baking.”

“Mhm. What were you baking?”

“… meiloorun pie.”

“In your bedroom?”

Anakin didn’t answer. Obi-Wan sighed, before extending a hand. “At least give me some. And quick, before Ahsoka gets here.”



Chapter Text

Aqua sighed, watching the pair of hotshots argue, before vaulting over the bar. “Hey! You two!”

They looked over, their debate momentarily interrupted.

“If you’re gonna shoot each other up, do it outside! Otherwise, stop trying to out-macho each other!”

One of them eyed her, looking as if he was going to try and argue. Her hand slid to the pistol on her belt.

“Alright…” they muttered, backing off from each other. She narrowed her eyes, but a gloved hand set itself on her shoulder, and she whipped around, ready to blow a hole in someone.

“You want help getting rid of the bodies, mesh’la?”

She immediately relaxed, holstering the blaster. “No, I’m fine. I do, however, need some help carrying table seven’s food.”

His helmet cocked to the side, and she could imagine his expression. “A Fett carrying drinks? That wasn’t in the job description.”

“Ooh, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ll have you cleaning the ‘fresher, instead. Your choice!”

“What would my associates think if they saw this?”

She grinned, turning, and with a small hop, lightly tapping her forehead against Boba’s helmet. “They’d think that you’re a good riduur. Now, take that tray, please.”

He shook his head, but picked it up nonetheless. “At least tell me Bossk isn’t here.”

She snickered.



Chapter Text

“Anakin…” a small voice gasped. He spun around, eyes widening.

“Ahsoka!” He rushed over, grabbing her as she collapsed. He inspected her body, searching for injuries. He was not disappointed, a burnt hole in her torso very quickly coming to his attention.

“Anakin… leave…”

He shook his head, digging frantically through his field first aid kit. “I won’t leave you, Snips.”

“He’s coming…”

“Tano is quite right,” a man said, interrupting his reply. Anakin spun around, eyes narrowing.

“I won’t let you hurt her, Sith!” He spat, igniting his lightsaber. Maul chuckled.

“I think I’ve already done that, Skywalker. Now, you have quite the choice, don’t you?” He motioned to Ahsoka. “You might be able to save her if you properly treat her immediately. Maybe not. But, you’ll have to let me run free once again.” He shook his head in mock sadness. “All this effort, wasted…”

Anakin froze. No, he couldn’t choose. He couldn’t. But he had to.

“Go… Skyguy…” Ahsoka managed to say, and he glanced back at her, eyes wide and breaths quick.

“I can’t, Snips. I can’t just-“

“I’m dead… either way… get him…”

Anakin watched, transfixed, as she turned her head and gave him a smile, before her eyes fluttered shut. Still breathing. Barely.

“Time is running out,” Maul said, and Anakin swallowed, even as tears began slowly slipping down his cheeks.

“‘M sorry Snips… I’m so sorry…” he sobbed, before turning to the Zabrak. His jaw was clenched, and he glared at him through tears. The Zabrak smiled.

“I see I’ve caught your attention. Come, play!”



Chapter Text

“Do you know what the Empire has really been doing on Lothal? Why they’ve been destroying the planet?”

Ezra shrugged. “The Empire does what the Empire does. And that sometimes involves strip-mining a planet.”

Hera’s face darkened. “It’s worse. Lothal is the base of Rom Mohc’s Darktrooper project.”

His eyes widened. “The Darktroopers are…” he searched for the right word, ”created here?”

Kanan nodded. “And if it isn’t stopped soon, it could spell the end for any possible rebellion against the Empire. Imagine millions of heavily-armored mechanical deathbringers. And we don’t even fully know their capabilities. All we know is that they come from Lothal. Everything else is just rumor.”

He nodded slowly, his mind whirring with this new information. Darktroopers. He knew the rumors. Everyone did. Though most didn’t even believe they were true. One man would say they were five yards tall, could fly, and would kill you in a split second. Another would say they were elite assasins, dressed in nothing but a modest suit of pitch black armor, yet were impossible to kill. And another would claim they were the Emperor’s personal stormtrooper detachment, forged from the flesh of dead clones. But no matter who you asked, all would agree that if you met one —or, god forbid, multiple— on the battlefield, there would not be much of you left to bury.

“So, are you sure you want to join?”

Ezra exhaled, turning his head to meet Hera’s gaze, a small smirk forming. “Well, that depends on how nice a gun you guys can scrounge up for me.”



Chapter Text

“Spectre Two and Five are in position.”

Ezra nodded, waiting for Zeb to report.

A second later. “Spectre Four is ready to crack some heads.”

Ezra smiled, but began clearing his mind. It was just him and the targets. He tried to apply the techniques Kanan had taught him.

“Op is go in ten seconds.”

He breathed in, and then out, letting go of his happiness and anticipation before it could take hold. He counted, waiting. Six. Five. Four. He opened his eyes, staring down the scope as he sat dead still, save for the slight, rhythmic pressing of his chest against the floor. Yet, he felt alive in a way he never did except when sharpshooting. He was the bolt of death you never knew existed until it was too late. Even from miles away, he could extinguish a life —an Imperial’s life— with naught but a pull of the trigger. It made his heart beat a little faster.





He heard the scream of his blaster, felt it kick against his shoulder, and a small grin formed on his face. Nevertheless, without pause, he swivelled the tiniest bit, his sight swinging over to another stormtrooper. Click. Dead. Swivel. Click. Dead. Swivel.

And every shot landed. He didn’t even have to look.

That small, dangerous part of him flared to life, as it always did when he killed Imperials. His shots came a bit faster; still never missing, though. He didn’t know if he even could miss at such a short distance. The pitch of his bolts’ screeches crept higher and higher with every shot. A warning. A sign. Telling him to stop. But he kept going.

And then they were dead.

He peered down his sight, watching as his teammates picked their way through the scattered white-clad bodies, smoking black holes the size of a fist in several. The others, marked with the signature burn patterns of a bo-rifle and lightsaber. A thin smile presented itself.

A dozen down, a couple billion more to go.



Chapter Text

“Focus, Ezra!”

He grit his teeth, reaching out once again, trying to sense where the can was.


He flinched away, hearing something collide loudly with his helmet. Chopper and Zeb’s laughter filled the air, and he snarled. Anger pooled in his stomach as his dammed up frustration began to leak through. Suddenly, his limbs didn’t feel so heavy, and his footing grew more certain. He slipped into his ready stance.

Where was it? He knew it was coming. Where… where… and then, a flicker in his awareness. The lightsaber shot to the side, and a split second later, he felt the can strike it, melting immediately. He grinned, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Another flicker. He shifted his feet, stepping back as he dropped the blade down. Another. Swing. Block. Another. Swing. Block.

“Stop. You can open the visor, Ezra.”

Ezra switched the saber off, reaching up and opening the visor. He watched Kanan give him an odd look, before striding away, towards the entrance to the ship. “Follow me.”



Chapter Text

“Zeb, get to the EP!” Ezra called into his comm as he grabbed Sabine with the Force, slowing her fall as she jumped from the window without hesitation.

“Sorry, Ezra, but I’m not coming with you.”

Ezra froze. “What? Of course you are!”

He heard blasterfire on the other end of the comm. “Even if the bucketheads let me out, they’d still have these bombs disabled before I could get up there. This is more important than me. Go.”

Ezra’s mind searched rapidly for a solution, in the end coming up with nothing.

“Ezra! What’s going on?” Sabine asked, her voice slightly distorted by the speakers. He didn’t answer, before keying Zeb’s channel.

“Okay… okay… we’ll go… just-”

“Now, kid! I can’t hold them off forever!”

He blinked tears out of his eyes, before following out of the window, activating as he fell. “Come on, let’s go quick,” he told her, rolling to his feet besides her. He suspected his attempts to keep his voice steady had failed.

“What about Zeb?”

He didn’t answer.

Seconds later, he swung into the pilot’s seat of a gunship, immediately firing up the engines. The pre-flight check could wait. His chair rumbled as the ship came to life, lifting from the ground. He threw the throttle forward, and felt the ship push into his back as they tore away from the Dome. He checked the sensors, and found that they had reached a safe distance. He choked back a sob, lifting his comm to his face.


“It was an honor, kid. Tell you and Sabine’s kiddos ‘bout their Uncle Zeb, will ya?”

“We will.” He sniffled. “We will, Zeb.”

“Good. Now blow this bastard out of sky, and make the Empire pay.”

And then the line went dead.

Shivers took Ezra’s body as tears slipped down his cheeks. He put the ship in hover, before standing. He slowly walked back, where Sabine stood, helmet off. Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them. Suddenly, it was more real. It cut a bit deeper. It wasn’t just him. It wasn’t just a hallucination. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she looked down at her hands, where the detonator was tightly grasped. She held it up, placing her finger on the switch.

He stepped towards her, reached out, placing his own hand over hers. It was warm.


An eruption of fire. Blue fire, purple fire. Red fire, yellow fire. Green fire, pink fire. They watched the show.

And a show it was.

Thousands of people dying as the floor melted beneath their feet and their blood boiled in their veins. More —the lucky ones who were close to the blast— were atomized immediately. All of them. Gone.

Zeb. Gone.

Ezra staggered, clutching Sabine for support even as she hung onto him. His vision swam with tears. He could hear Sabine’s soft sobs beside him, buried in his shoulder. His world suddenly felt a little less colorful.

He lifted his comm up to his mouth, slowly. His thumb hovered over the call button. For a second. Just a second. Then, he clicked it, steeling himself.

“Spectre Six to Spectre One. The Dome has been destroyed,” he said, forcing his voice to be steady.

Silence. He watched as the burning structure plunged into the ocean, and a part of him idly wondered how deep it was at that spot.

“We copy, Spectre Six. Good luck down there.”

And then the line went dead.



Chapter Text

“Just in case,” Ezra had said, tossing a comm to him. “If you ever want out, let us know.”

Kallus stared down at his hand, the device sitting innocently in his palm. Should he? He knew he would never be able to come back. Back to his comfortable, normal life.

He found that he didn’t care. Comfort meant nothing if it resulted in him partaking in atrocities. Again.

A stab of guilt, though he shoved it down.

Could he? How would he avoid capture? As easy as the Ghost’s crew made it look, he knew escaping the Empire absolutely was a nearly insurmountable task. But, with intelligence, it could be done. And he was nothing if not intelligent.

Would he? He glanced around the room, checking that the lock was active and that the cameras were still covered. His muscles were tense, as if stormtroopers would burst through the door and gun him down that second. He took a deep breath, before clicking the comm on.

“This is Disruptor. I got stuck in a cave recently, and I realized that the wall I was chipping away at was going to collapse on me if I kept going. I decided I wanted to try a new wall. Thoughts?”

Yes. He would.



Chapter Text

Kanan steadied himself as the ship rocked, and heard something thump to the ground in the back. The pole he was holding onto vibrated worryingly, but it seemed to be fine. For the time being.

“Lieutenant Jarrus! Bronskee says we’re landing in thirty seconds!” Rex shouted as another bout of rumbling began.

He nodded. “Thank you!” He looked around the room, giving the soldiers a smirk. “You heard the corporal! Run your last checks and brace for impact!”

He heard a chorus of affirmatives, and smiled, before beginning to focus inwards. His mind once more ran through the plan, and its contingencies. He grimaced, once again reminded of the chance of failure. So many moving parts. It was like watching an old-school mechanical chrono’s gears turn, except they were all made of glass. And the whole contraption was on the edge of a cliff. In a strong wind.

Suddenly, he got a little push from the Force. Instinctively acting on it, he braced himself.


The floor shook as he fought to keep his feet. He heard thumps as people fell to the floor, swearing in a dozen languages. He listened as the lasers activated, a steady whir as they cut a hole in the ISD’s hull.

Seconds later, he heard Rex yell. “Launching airlock!”

A clunk, and another several seconds of silence. Then, the airlock opened with a hiss. He grinned.

“Let’s go steal ourselves a Star Destroyer!”



Chapter Text

Josue stared out the viewport, in awe as the ship descended into the derelict durasteel maze. Giant towers, stretching high into the sky, glimmering under the sun. Everything was so… cold. Suddenly he felt so very small.

Beside him, his astromech gave a slow string of beeps. He nodded. “Yeah…”

Tentatively, he reached out with the Force. Everything was so lifeless. It chilled him to the bone, but he continued to reach around. Where… where… wait, was that it? It was certainly something. It felt familiar… warm and embracing. It almost felt like home.




Chapter Text


His hand quivered, the comm threatening to fall from his hand as he stared at it. He rewound the message. It couldn’t be true.

“Citizen Hyv, we regret to inform you that Lieutenant Hyv was killed three days ago in a rebel attack. Her body was unrecoverable,” the comm repeated.

And then the message stopped. Short, blunt, and by the gods, it was painful.

Tears welled in his eyes. Maydel… gone… he sobbed. His hand clenched almost on its own accord, quickly turning white.

Why… why… he shouted an unintelligible cry, slamming his fist on the wall. The pain registered, but he didn’t truly feel it. Apparently there was a limit to how much pain you could feel at once. His breaths came ragged and shaky.

He began repeating it, slamming his hand into the wall over and over again, his shouts becoming more and more a roar. And then he stopped, collapsing to the floor and curling up.

“You’re going to regret it,” he whispered, his head in a pool of tears. “You’re going to regret it…”



Chapter Text

“Cadet Hyv!”

Dreydel stepped forward, jaw set. He grabbed the E-11, checking the charge, and then clicking the safety off. He pressed the stock to his shoulder, peering down the scope, imagining the face of Luke Skywalker on the target. Fury flared up in him, and an instant later, his finger snapped to the trigger, firing.

He heard the bolt connect, swung over to the next target, and then fired. And then again. And again. And again. A few seconds later, he lowered the blaster, clicking the safety back on. The rifle made a soft clunk as he set it down, and stepped away, turning to his instructor.

“Report to the administration officer at seventeen-hundred for your score,” the man said. “Dismissed!”

“Yes, sir!” He responded, snapping off a salute, before walking away.



Chapter Text

“Ah, good morning. Please, take a seat.”

Dreydel nodded, lowering himself into the metal chair.

“So,” the recruiter steepled his fingers, “you want to join the military, huh?”

He nodded again. “Yes. I’ve visited the Navy and Stormtrooper Corp recruiters, too.”

“I see. What did you think?”

“I’m leaning stormtrooper, at the moment.”

“Ah,” the recruiter said, leaning forward. “You’re interested in an elite career path?”

“I want to kill as many rebels as possible.” He stared the recruiter dead in the eye. “Is there a position in the Army that will allow me more action than the Stormtrooper Corps?”

The recruiter chuckled. “Such passion for defending the Empire. I like it.” He shook his head. “Well, then. Of course, the stormtroopers are the primary fighting force of the Imperial Military, and generally see the most action. But, we have our own elite soldiers, which I think might suit you more.

“Imperial Army Special Missions. They are few in number, but are some of the best in the Army, able to compete with even stormtroopers. But here’s what makes them more suited for you: they are much fewer in number than stormtroopers.”

Dreydel cocked an eyebrow. “So?”

“This means that you will rarely find an IASM platoon doing guard duty, or some other less… action-packed task. But stormtroopers are numerous enough that they are frequently used as guards for high value objectives.”

“What does IASM do, then?”

He spread his hands. “Primarily counter-insurgency. They will often be sent to hunt down and eliminate guerrilla groups.”

Dreydel nodded slowly, his mind turning. Several seconds later, he looked back at the recruiter.

“Where do I sign up?”



Chapter Text

“Alright, cadets. Time to prove your mettle. You will each have ten minutes to find and disable every bomb in your ATR-E. Fail this and you’re out. Go.”

Dreydel’s eyes widened slightly, before he slipped his game face on. He had a job to do. Along with a sea of other cadets, he pushed forward, rushing into the hallway, searching for his room. His mind noted the seconds ticking away as he scrambled.

Aha. This one.

He quickly keyed the door, peering in as it hissed open.

It was pitch black.

He grimaced, the dozens of ATR horror stories he had heard floating into his mind. He shook his head, before sliding his visor down and pressing into the room.



Chapter Text

“Sergeant Hyv reporting for duty, sir.”

The lieutenant turned away from the holo-display. “Ah, Sergeant. I believe I have a task for you and your squad.”

“Yes, sir?”

The lieutenant beckoned, turning back to the display. Upon approaching, he realized it was a map. More specifically, a map of the city they were besieging.

“Your mission will be to infiltrate the city via the sewers, take out the power plant, and on your way out, cause as much of a distraction as possible. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any questions?”

A moment. “No, sir.”

“Good. The details will be sent to your datapads. The operation commences tomorrow at oh-five-hundred. Dismissed.”



Chapter Text

“I hate sand.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, flicking sand at him with her leg. “Shocker.”

“It’s true.”

“We only have fifteen miles left, and if you can just shut the kark up for them all, I won’t tell Obi-Wan about that stunt you pulled at the outpost. Deal?”

He whipped around, pointing a finger. “If you do that, I’ll tell him about the turret incident.”

She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“I thought so.”



Chapter Text

“I would like to rage!”

Obi-Wan facepalmed. “Anakin, you do know there are at least a dozen more suitable responses than to-“

“Quiet, Sir Smites-A-Lot. As I was saying: I. Would like. To rage.”

Yoda sighed. “What else?”

“I want to attack the big one.”

“Roll to hit, you must.”

A second later. “Fourteen.”

“Miss, you do.”


Yoda shuffled his papers. “Hm… Ahsoka. Your turn, it is.”

She grinned. “I would like to cast fireball.”

Yoda gave her a long, dead stare. “Force choke you all, I will.”



Chapter Text

“How… how could you do this…”

“My loyalty-“

“Loyalty?! You have the gall to speak of loyalty?” She asked, fists clenched even as tears ran down her face. “To me?”

He flinched, almost unnoticeably. And then it was gone, and he was staring her in the eyes, expression hard. “I promised I would finish it. I am playing the long game. All of this,” he waved a hand around, “is just another move.” He shrugged. “You’re just… just a pawn. One I must sacrifice.”

She said nothing, just looking down, silently shaking. He stepped towards her.

“I love you. I always will.” He slipped a syringe from his pocket. “But I have a duty.”

He lunged forward, slipping the needle into her neck, and a second later, eased her to the ground as she slipped into unconsciousness.

She didn’t even try to resist.



Chapter Text

“What is this?” Kallus asked, staring at the vaguely tree-shaped monstrosity that was filling half the common area. He was pushed aside slightly as Sabine and Ezra carried a massive container past him.

“Can’t you see? It’s a Life Day Tree,” Ezra replied, setting the crate down. He keyed it open, and shoved the lid to the floor. Inside was dozens of ornaments. Kallus’ face contorted.

“Is it a requirement to make it look as terrible as possible, lest you fail to fully capture the spirit of Life Day?”

Sabine snorted. “I told you it looked bad.”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were on my side.”

She raised one hand defensively as the other swept through the sea of brightly colored ornaments. “I am. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make fun of your tree construction skills.”

Kallus sighed. “Can it at least not be so… prominent?”

Ezra grinned, hanging a miniature blaster on a branch. “Nope! Come on, stop being so grumpy and just enjoy! It’s Life Day!”

He sighed again. “Unfortunately, I am aware.”



Chapter Text


“I know, I know!”

Ezra took a shot at a stormtrooper, before keying the door shut between them. “Well if you know, then fix it already!

“Well it’s hard to concentrate when you’re complaining!”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t be complaining if you’d just-“

“Need help?”

Ezra’s eyes widened, and he spun around. Sure enough, she was standing right there.

“Sabine?! Why are you-“

“Because you di’kute obviously need help. Now, come on!”



Chapter Text

“So… how do I look?”

Sabine looked up, a grin rapidly spreading across her face. Ezra was standing in the doorway, completely clad in orange and purple painted beskar armor. She stood up. “It looks great, cyar’ika. Who did the paint?”

He slid the helmet off, laughing. “Some girl I know. She’s been painting for a while now.”

“Oh?” She tapped her forehead against his, before kissing him. “Well, let her know it looks good.”

“I certainly will. And there’s something else I want to let her know.”

She snaked an arm around him, pulling herself close. “What might that be?”

“Ni kar’taylir gar darasuum.”



Chapter Text

"Looking for someone?"

The man spun around, firing his blaster. Ruzena smiled, cocking her head as she heard the bolt spend itself on her armor. "You are aware of the properties of beskar, yes?"

He growled, squeezing off another shot. She dodged, simultaneously firing a cable. Her armed jerked as the hook caught on his blaster, and she yanked it from his hands.


"To be honest, I though you would've been a tougher fight. They made you out to be this dangerous smuggler."

He charged at her, swinging, but she blocked his strikes, countering with a helmeted headbutt.

"All I see is a fool."

She grabbed him as he stumbled to the floor, sweeping his legs from under him. He dropped to the floor, moaning. She shook her head, and slipped binders on his wrists.



Chapter Text

"Looking for someone?"

The man spun around, firing his blaster. Ruzena smiled, cocking her head as she heard the bolt spend itself on her armor. "You are aware of the properties of beskar, yes?"

He growled, squeezing off another shot. She dodged, simultaneously firing a cable. Her armed jerked as the hook caught on his blaster, and she yanked it from his hands.


"To be honest, I though you would've been a tougher fight. They made you out to be this dangerous smuggler."

He charged at her, swinging, but she blocked his strikes, countering with a helmeted headbutt.

"All I see is a fool."

She grabbed him as he stumbled to the floor, sweeping his legs from under him. He dropped to the floor, moaning. She shook her head, and slipped binders on his wrists.



Chapter Text

"Why hello there, Lady Tano."

"What do you want, Maul?"

He smiled, spreading his hands. "I once again seek an alliance. Times have changed, and I believe your time as a dead woman might have changed your... stance."

"Why now?"

He chuckled, sending chills down her spine. "You know. You felt it the same as I."

She stared at him, unimpressed.

"Have you not realized? The Emperor is dead, and that means Vader is on the throne..."



Chapter Text

"Are they finished?"

Maul shook his head, and Ahsoka's lip curled. "Bastards. They're probably-"

Maul cut her off. "Do not act rashly. While I quite agree, that does not mean we will not continue to utilize their services. They are valuable."

She sighed. "Yes, yes, I know. Doesn't mean I like it."

"Indeed. Now, go ensure that the ship is ready. I will not be caught unprepared."



Chapter Text

"You can open your eyes now, Skyguy."

He glared at her. "Look, it hurt a lot."

She rolled her eyes, pulling him to his feet. "Yes, all the screaming you were doing was my first clue."

"I'll shoot you with a blaster, and we'll see who's screaming then."

Ahsoka snickered. "Alright, I'll make sure to get someone to scrape you off the floor once HR is finished."



Chapter Text

"Anakin, the Council-"

"Who cares what the Council says? They're not here, and you guys won't tell, will ya?" Anakin said, grinning as he put his arm around Rex. The clone sighed, but was smiling nonetheless.

"Anakin, you are aware this is considered a war crime, yes?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't count if we win."



Chapter Text


Ahsoka's eyes widened. How did they know? She hadn't told anyone. "Who are you?" She asked, her voice wavering. The darkness pouring off this creature was almost overwhelming, yet there was something in it that was vaguely familiar.

She felt a shift, and the figure spoke. "I am death," It said, its voice a deep boom. A red blade leapt into existence, crimson shimmering off the polished black armor.

Before she could even react, the creature was bearing down on her.



Chapter Text

"Mm, yes, feel the ket- er, meth- er, coke?" Yoda shrugged. "Anyway, feel it flow through you."

Luke gave him a stare. "Master, how many drugs are you on?"

"Hm, far too few. Hard to acquire on Dagobah, heroin is."



Chapter Text

"Luke, I am your father."

Luke blinked. "What?"

Vader faltered. "Um, I said... I am your father."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "You're full of poodoo."

"Uh, no? Why would I lie about this?"

"Look, I'm just thinking: it must be awfully hard to do that sort of thing in that suit."

Vader gave him a stare. "You do know I haven't always worn this suit, right?"



Chapter Text

"Hey, Luke!"


Han put a hand on his shoulder. "I was wondering, what's going on between you and the princess?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you two were awfully friendly back there."

Luke laughed. "Oh, yeah, no, that was nothing. I think."

"You think?"

He shrugged. "I honestly have no clue."

"Alright then."


They stood, silent, for a moment. Luke looked up, opening his mouth. "Well, I gotta-"

"I probably should-"

Han smirked. "See ya at the strategy meeting, kid."

Luke nodded. "Good luck."

Han gave him a look, before smiling. "I don't need luck."



Chapter Text

"Er, Kanan?"


He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at his feet. "Well, suppose there was this girl that I really liked, but I-"

"Is it Sabine?"

Ezra looked away, and Kanan laughed. "Ezra, I may not have my sight anymore, but I am observant."


"Look." He put a hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Just ask. I can tell you she certainly appreciates directness, and it takes a certain kind of bravery to be direct, which won't hurt. Worst case scenario, she's not interested, and things continue on how they are now. She won't bite."


"Come on. Go."

"But she's painting."

"I'm certain she won't mind."



Chapter Text

"If you scream, I will tear your vocal chords from your throat."

The man gulped, and Sabine smiled. "Good. Now, tell me where he is."

"I- I don't-"

She pressed the knife harder to his throat. "The Jedi. He was taken here. Where is he?"

"They don't tell me that stuff. I don't have the clearance."

"Who does?"

"I don't-"

She snarled, opening the man's throat in a single smooth gesture, before letting him fall to the ground. She ignored his gurgling, snatching the code cylinder from his chest. "At least I got something useful."



Chapter Text

"Sir! There's an unidentified enemy combatant on the left flank!"

Anakin turned to Rex, yelling above the roar of blasterfire. "Are they dangerous?!"

"They haven't engaged us, but I assume they are! They have a lightsaber! A red one!"

Anakin's eyes widened.

"A Sith?!" Ahsoka asked.

Anakin glanced at her, and then at Rex, running over his memories to try and remember if the council had ever said anything about another Sith. Was this Darth Sidious? "You two stay here and hold the line!"

"I'm coming with you!"

Anakin gave her a stern look, which she responded to by narrowing her eyes. Teenagers, Anakin thought with a sigh. "It's too dangerous, Ahsoka! I need you here with Rex!"

"I can hold my own! Rex will be fine, and I want to stay with you! I'm not going to let you fight a Sith on your own!"

Anakin opened his mouth to argue, but the look on her face told him he probably wasn't going to win this one. "Fine!" He glanced at Rex. "Are you going to be okay without her?!"

Rex nodded. "We'll be fine!"

Anakin nodded back, before bringing his wrist-comm up to his face. "This is General Skywalker. I'm at the south bridge, and I need a ride to the plaza."

"Copy. Someone should be picking you up in a moment, General."

"Thank you."

"Do you think it's really a Sith?!" Ahsoka asked from beside him. He glanced down at her, before shrugging.

"Maybe! I hope not! But it's rare you just find someone waving around a red lightsaber, and it's even rarer when that person isn't a Sith!"

Ahsoka was about to reply, but a LAAT swooped into view, landing a couple meters in front of them. The side hatches slid open, and a clone waved them inside. Anakin rushed over, entering the vehicle.

"Let's go!" he yelled to the pilot. The floor shook beneath him, and the battlefield began shrinking below them. His wrist buzzed, and he lifted the comm to his face once again.

"General! We're being swarmed! We need reinforcements! And this thing- it uses the force-" the signal cut out for a moment. "Where- Rex-"

The line went dead, and Anakin glanced at Ahsoka once more. Her face was calm, but he could pick out the tension in her jaw, and the hand perched on her lightsaber.

"Well... guess they are a Sith, huh?" He said, weakly trying to make a joke. The floor jolted beneath them, and suddenly they were descending.

This was going to be interesting.

"Will you want us to stay, sir?"

He shook his head. "No. We'll be fine."

Something niggled him in the back of his mind, but before he could try and think about it more, the hatch slid open.

The moment he exited, he felt a wave of darkness. And there was only one possible source.

At the center of the plaza was a dark, hulking figure. Dressed in all black, it wielded a crimson lightsaber with deadly efficiency. A tattered cape fluttered behind it, and its skull-like mask showed no emotion as the monster tore through dozens of clone troopers.

It was like a whirlwind of death. Men were crushed in its telekinetic grip, while the red blade twirled around effortlessly, deflecting every bolt of the barrage of plasma.

And then it turned, meeting his gaze.

Red lenses on blue eyes.

A chill went down his spine.

It started walking towards him, eyes never leaving him as it strode. It casually deflected every blaster bolt fired at it, but never retaliated. It was the hunter, and he was the prey.

Yet he could not bring himself to look away.

"Master... what is it doing?!"

Anakin unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, igniting it as he slipped into a ready stance. "Get behind me, Snips."


"Now." His voice was steely, leaving no room for arguing. He felt her back away. Good.

Ten meters.

He could hear breaths, now. Cold and inhuman.

Seven. Five. Four. Three.

He pounced.

Leaping into action, his saber swirled around him in a blazing blue onslaught. Yet somehow, his every strike was met. It was like fighting a wall.

A twinge from the Force, and Anakin threw himself to the side. The red blade sliced through where his torso had just been. He scrambled back, but the demon was already on him. Always pushing. Matching his every move. It was too much. Mechanical, rhythmic breaths crowded his ears.

He swung wildly at the monster's leg, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would meet. Maybe he would have a reprieve, however slight.

But his arm froze, held in place by some force. The Force. The demon stared at him for a moment. No emotion. He couldn't even feel anything from it in the force, except death. And pain. So much pain.

He closed his eyes, ready.

And then he heard the signature hiss of locked lightsabers.

He opened his eyes, and saw Ahsoka furiously batting at the monster. No. No. No, no, no.

"Ahsoka, no-" he tried to scream, but it was too late. Her head thumped dully to the ground at his feet, followed by her body. Dead eyes stared back at him as smoked curled from her neck.

A black boot crunched down on one of her lightsabers, and he looked up. Tears gathered in his eyes as he stared into those blank lenses.

"What are you?" he asked, voice a hoarse whisper.

No answer but a red flash. His world went dark.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in. Life.

Breath out. Torture.

Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, woke up.



Chapter Text

A scream.

Omega woke up, instantly alert. What was going on? She looked around the dark room, completely silent. Her brow furrowed. Had she dreamt it?

She sat for a moment, debating, before turning to her side, about to ask Hera if she'd heard it too. Her eyes widened.

Hera was gone.

Omega instantly got up. She wouldn't have left without telling her, would she? Not so soon after a mission.

She slid out of bed, grabbing the pistol from her nightstand, and flipped the safety off. Her slippers made nearly no sounds as she walked across the hardwood floors, ears straining for any noise. Her surroundings grew brighter and brighter with each room she cleared as her eyes became more used to the darkness. Nothing.

She entered the kitchen, checking every corner of the cramped space. Still nothing.


She whipped around instantly, but quickly realized that the source of the sound was above her. Upstairs.

The nursery.

She felt a rush of adrenaline. No one hurt her babies. She ran to the stairs, going up them as quickly as she dared. Hallway, clear. Bedroom, clear. Bathroom, clear.

Blaster at the ready, she entered, quickly scanning the room. Nothing.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she rushed over to the crib.

The babies were gone.

She gasped, eyes wide. "No... no..." she whispered, frantically inspecting it as if they were somehow hiding in the blankets.


She froze.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Omega spun, pointing her blaster around the room. Her breaths came quickly, and she could feel her heart pounding against her chest. Something in the closet shifted, and she trained the gun on it.

"Show yourself!" she demanded, though her voice betrayed her, quavering.


A small object rolled out from the closet, mostly round besides the oddly shaped chunks taken out of it. It left a trail of strange liquid. She whipped the blaster down, training the barrel on it. Her eyes narrowed, and then widened.

The object rolled to a stop, and small, dead eyes stared at her. She looked back up.

Her blaster clattered to the ground, slipping from her hands.

Hera stepped out of the closet, her normally green eyes an angry red. In her arms, she was softly rocking a pair of limp infants, one of which was headless. Her nightclothes were covered in blood, the deep crimson staining her hands and face.

"H-h-hera?" she asked, backing away. Hera grinned, showing rows of red-dyed teeth.

"Wonderful little snacks. A perfect appetizer, wouldn't you say?"



Chapter Text


The officer stood at attention. "They are both very resistant to torture. The Jedi, in particular."

Thrawn nodded. "Very good. Dismissed."

The officer's face flashed with confusion, but he followed orders, leaving Thrawn alone. He watched the torture footage on a holodisplay, muting the sound and instead focusing on the prisoners' behavior. Yes. Quite resistant.

He turned away, contemplating the situation. It was only a matter of time before the Ghost's crew came to save them, and Thrawn doubted they would fail. They rarely did.

No, he could not afford to waste time. Coming to a decision, he left the room, taking a lift down to the prison levels.

Reports told him that Bridger and Sabine had a relationship. Of what sort, it was unclear. But they were certainly close. And while Bridger would not bend to pain, Jedi had quite the weakness for others' pain.

He strode off the lift, moving towards the two rebels' cells. Thrawn gave the officers behind the desk a glance. "Have Ezra Bridger brought to Sabine Wren's cell."

"Yes sir!"

He strode down the corridor, passing dozens of identical grey cell doors. As he approached the correct cell, he unclipped his code cylinder, plugging it into the reader. It blinked for a moment, before buzzing green. The cell hissed open, and he entered, eyes immediately going to the torture chair in the center of the room. Or, more specifically, the Mandalorian in it.

Wren gave him a poisonous glare, which he ignored, and instead paced leisurely around the room.

"What do you want, Thrawn?" she spat.

He fixed his eyes on her, answering flatly. "Information on the location of the rebel base."

She sneered. "You won't be getting it from me, then."

He looked at her for a moment, before inclining his head. "It's not you I plan on breaking, Wren."

The door hissed open once again, and a pair of stormtroopers entered, dragging a heavily-bound Bridger with them. Thrawn gave a thin smile. "Ah, here we are. Excellent. Can you hear me, Bridger? The mixture of drugs you have been dosed with is carefully measured for your physiology, but there are always outliers. Particularly when the Force is involved."

Bridger, unable to speak due to the gag stuffed in his mouth, answered by narrowing his eyes at him. Thrawn nodded. "That will suffice. Shall we begin?"

"What's your game, Thrawn? Ezra won't break, though I'm sure you know that."

Thrawn procured a small device, inspecting the numerous buttons on it. "I wouldn't be so sure, With the right stimulus, anyone can be broken."

He looked to Bridger, displaying the device. His eyes widened, and he felt a small note of satisfaction. "This is your last chance, Bridger. Tell me where the rebel base is, and you both will be spared, likely sent off to some Imperial prison. Not exactly a glamorous life, but it is life, and relatively free of pain."

Bridger seemed indecisive for a moment, before shaking his head vehemently. Thrawn sighed. "Your stubbornness is unfortunate."

He clicked a button on the device, and electricity suddenly coursed through Wren. She began screaming, muscles spasming. He watched Bridger closely, several emotions playing out on his face. The boy was incredibly easy to read. Seeing that he was not yet vulnerable, Thrawn increased the electricity's intensity. Wren's screams grew louder.

After several moments, Thrawn switched the torture device off, turning to inspect Wren. She was still spasming slightly, and a whimper escaped her. He turned back to Bridger. "This is only scratching the surface, though I'm sure you are aware. These machines are truly impressive."

He noted the conflict on Bridger's face. Perhaps this would be over faster than he had originally anticipated. He needed to look further into their relationship; it was obviously deeper than he had expected.

"Ezra... don't..."

Bridger closed his eyes, face scrunched up as if in pain. "I'm sorry... I can't watch you suffer because of me."

He met Thrawn's eyes, before looking away.

"Atollon. The base is on Atollon."



Chapter Text

Hera shivered, the night air sharp against her skin. Lothal's twin moons shone down on her, faintly illuminating the surrounding fields. Miles and miles of long pale green grass. She remembered when they had first met Ezra here, all those years ago. Now, there were only memories left.

In the distance, she could see the city shimmering. It had changed so much since then. Everything had. She felt a soft pang. The years had dulled the sharp edges of her broken heart, but they would never go away.

In the distance, she heard a lone howl. She jerked slightly, eyes scanning the darkness. Since the Empire had been driven away, the Lothwolves had made a resurgence, but sighting one was still rare.

She saw a large, white form move through the grass, off in the distance. The wolf. Its fur glinted in the light, a ghost among the sea of green. It paused, and a second later, howled again. Somehow, she knew it was looking at her. At her side, an old, comforting presence formed, like a thick, worn blanket from years past she had just found buried in her closet.

"Kanan," she whispered, eyes still locked with the wolf. Around her, answering howls sounded, so numerous it was as if they had appeared out of thin air. Tears began forming in her eyes as a flood of memories came back to her. Kanan, her friend. Kanan, her partner. Kanan, her lover.

The wind picked up slightly, and she could've sworn she had heard a whisper among the chorus of bays. "I love you..."

The presence enveloped her for a long, warm moment, before dissolving.