Luke Skywalker, Supercool

by Hammers_N_Sickles

Summary:

The Republic and Separatists have been fighting the Clone Wars for a year now. The Galaxy is in ruins, the Senate powerless, the Jedi grow ever brutal, and the people are suffering while capitalists and politicians enrich themselves. There is talk of an anti-slavery Rebellion in the Outer Rim, led by a mysterious leader born out of Tatooine slave culture.

Nobody takes it seriously, until Ahsoka Tano is saved on a mission by said leader, a rogue Jedi who keeps calling her Master Anakin Skywalker 'Junior' and forces her to reconsider the Jedi's role in the war.
They say that they're called Luke Skywalker, and that they're...supercool.

UPDATED BIWEEKLY!

Notes:

• Inspired by Ad Utrumque Paratus by obeyingthemuse
• Inspired by Working Back by Back_At_It_Betty
• Inspired by [Restricted Work] by Ariel_Sojourner (Log in to access.)

Chapter 1: Luke Skywaker, Supercool

Summary:

And so the story begins! I hope you're going to like it, all comments (except hate ones) are very much appreciated^^

Notes:

This is a silly story with serious themes. The humor, the action and the antics will often get silly, exaggerated for rule of cool or rule of funny. Meanwhile, the emotions, the stakes and the plot are going to be treated as sincerely as possible. That's how I like stories I read and write. If you hate that, it's fine, hey, this wonderful site has something for everybody, you won't miss anything by deciding not to read it or to stop reading it when it doesn't satisfy you anymore. I'm open to debating and disagreeing on anything that might strike you when reading the story, from lore to charatcters to politics, it's fun when it's good-natured. However, I have had experience with thread battles and I would rather not receive asshole behavior or become an asshole myself out of frustration, as it's not fun for anybody involved, not good for anyone's health, so I'll reserve the right to block and delete fights if they break out from now on. I hope you can have a fun and serene reading experience, and enjoy reading this story as much as I've been enjoying writing it.

Chapter One: Luke Skywalker, supercool

 

21 BBY, Chelli Minor

 

Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padawan, was fuming. It should have been a simple stealth mission. Sneak into the Separatist outpost on Chelli Minor, retrieve the classified files on the new Separatist Fleet weapons systems, and get out before Skyguy and Master Kenobi sent the bombers to draw out the enemy and raze the place to the ground. She was the perfect person for the job. Small enough to fit in the air vents of the place, and stealthy enough to swipe the card where the files were encrypted. No sense sending the whole 501st or 212th, nor in using slicers--terminals there were too protected and it would have taken too long. Simpler to swipe the physical copy from under the Seppies's noses.

Instead, she had found herself hit by a stun bolt the second she had got out of the air vents, and lost consciousness. When she came back to, she was being thrown into a cell by two B2 Battle droid. She suppressed a curse as she landed hard on her shoulder on the metal floor, and threw her hands out at the droids to push them into the opposite wall, but nothing happened. With a frown, she looked down at her hands, and realized they were bound in cuffs. Big, bulky Force-dampening cuffs.

She cursed, and energy bars closed the entrance to the cell. "Just my luck."

"No." the pale face of Asajj Ventress, Separatist commander, smiled at her from beyond the bars. "Just my luck."

"Ventress." snarled Ahsoka. "So this was a trap."

"Of course." Ventress purred, looking beyond her. "Though I'm surprised you Republic fools fell for it twice."

Ahsoka frowned, and followed Ventress's line of sight to where it ended behind her--on a blond Human wearing a battered jacket of the Intelligence Corps of the Grand Army of the Republic.

"Hi." the Human waved at her. Their hands too were cuffed, although their cuffs weren't Force-dampening. "Guess we're both in quite the pickle, aren't we?" 

Ahsoka ignored them, and turned back to Ventress. "It doesn't matter. My Master will come and free us, and it will be all over for you, Ventress."

"We've exchanged these pleasantries many times, Padawan," Ventress replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "But trust me. The security measures on this base are too much even for Anakin Skywalker. This trap was designed for him, after all."

To both the two female Force-user's surprise, the GAR Intelligence officer laughed at that remark. "Yeah, maybe for Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and GAR General." they said, settling into a mischievous smile. "But not for me, lady."

Ventress snorted. "And why would that be, Republic fool?"

"Because my name's Luke Skywalker." the officer said, and both Ahsoka's and Ventress's eyebrows shot up. "And I'm supercool."

Ventress's face fell into a scowl. "I...have absolutely no idea who you are."

"Of course you wouldn't." the officer snorted. "Not even Junior knows of me, as far as I know, and as much as it pains me. But your master, Count Dooku, does. Why don't you go ask him?"

"Why would my master know of you?" Ventress snarled. "You're just some officer. You can't even touch the Force, I sensed it in you." Ventress's voice dripped with derision this time...but to Ahsoka's ears it felt just the tiniest bit forced. And 'Luke Skywalker' in all probability felt it too, because they pounced on it with no hesitation. "He's a Sith Lord, Miss Ventress. That's what they do, keep secrets from their apprentices to foster their resentment and hatred, in order to better control them. He probably doesn't even tell you all the things he talks about with his own master, Sidious--and come to think of it, going by the Rule of Two, what does that make you?"

"Are you seriously trying to sow doubt between me and--"

"Excess. It makes you an excess. Superflous. Easily discardable." was the officer's flat answer. "So why don't you ask him about me? As I said, you're a Force user and I'm not. You're the best person out of us to ascertain if you can really trust your Master. And you should. Dispel the possibility I'm lying, or...see if he really trust you enough to tell you the truth."

Ventress' hands tightened into fists. Even with the Force-dampening cuffs, she could feel Ventress's rage swirl and churn around in the woman's chest like a storm. It made her sick in the bottom of her stomach, to feel the Dark Side in this way...and to her suprise, the officer going by 'Luke Skywalker' was unaffected. They leant back against the cell wall, cuffed hands in their lap, with their face, posture and eyes displaying utter calm. As if the officer was daring Ventress to hurt them with the Dark Side.

And yet Ventress didn't hurt them. She turned, sending one last look at them. "When I come back," she seethed, "I will torture you until you'll regret being born, you arrogant scum."

"No you won't." the officer smiled. "You won't find me here. Supercool, remember?"

Ventress stormed off, and the officer leant back with their eyes closed. Ahsoka looked at them, flabbergastered. The officer didn't look like a Skywalker. Or rather, they didn't look very much like her Master. Sure, like Skyguy, they were Human, tanned, cleft-chinned, blonde-haired (though Luke's hair was still properly blond and graying, instead of Skyguy's darker locks) and blue-eyed. They even had scars on their face, only that they were fainter and lining their laugh lines and upper lip, with others following a tree-branch pattern from their neck to their jaw. But they looked older, in their mid-to-late-hirties, couldn't be taller than five-foot-eight, muscled but in a wirier way than the utter near-six-foot-two tank that Skyguy was. And they had stubble! Stubble, faint but showing the beginnings of a beard, kind of like Master Kenobi before Skyguy was knighted. She couldn't picture Skyguy with a beard, not in a million years, not even stubble. And they weren't a Jedi. Ventress said the officer wasn't even Force-Sensitive, and yet they seemed to know so much about Sith stuff, and had the gigantic balls to own Ventress with that knowledge. Just who the Hell was this person? Non-Clone GAR Intelligence officers interacted with the Jedi only in very rare occasions, they were people for and from the Chancellor's Office. And the officer called Skyguy Junior?

"Who the Sith Hells are you?" she asked.

The officer opened his eyes. "I'm Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you, Ahsoka Tano."

"Right." Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a Jedi."

A shrug. "And I've broken out of worse places." without daying anything more, the officer pulled down their right jacket's arm from the wrist...and bit into it.

Ahsoka resisted the urge to throw up as the officer ripped a strip of flesh from their wrist's underside, leaving a skin flap flopping about, and bit further into their arm. And yet...not a single drop of blood. Just a faint buzz of static that was over as soon as she heard it. The cell's surveillance camera jerked in the smallest of ways, and then was normal again.

"There." the officer said. "I've scrambled the camera's signal--for no more than five minutes it will replay the footage from five minutes prior. We have a chance now."

"How the kark did you..."

"Easy. My boyfriend's very good with electronics."

"No, I mean the..." Ahsoka almost threw up again.

"Robot arm." the officer said, showing her the circuitry under the gash they'd made with their teeth, and a small, circular device with a switch sitting inthe center of it. Three or four inches below the wrist, there sat a thin line of demarcation. Above, their skin was paler, less calloused, below it was darker, lined with strange, faded, lightning-like patterns that seemed to follow their nerves. "Synthskin."

"But synthskin is barely experimental--" Ahsoka began, but the officer started coughing. They made a couple faces, thumped their chest...and then a green kyber crystal rolled off their tongue and into their waiting hands.

"There." the officer said, as their cuffs popped open by themselves. Still sitting, they clicked their heels together and small electronic components flipped out of their soles and heels, flying into a cylindrical shape as the officer took a few more smaller parts out of their fake hand. The kyber flew in the center of that mess, and assembled into a lightsaber that looked very similar, to Ahsoka, to Obi-Wan's own.

"Ok," Ahsoka said, "I'll admit that that, while gross as all Hells, is kinda cool."

The officer turned to her with a smirk. "Only kinda cool?"

"Yeah, wha--"

They moved impossibly fast, so fast Ahsoka could barely see them. There was a flash of green, and then Ahsoka's Force-dampening cuffs clattered uselessly to the floor in ten pieces, her hands unarmed. And then the whole wall that contained the energy door fell outwards into the corridor, melted metal around the edges where it had been cut. It had been a single fluid movement, at an imaginable speed.

The officer turned to look at her again, green lightsaber in their mechanical hand, pointed towards the floor, flesh hand extended to her, to help her up. Ahsoka accepted it. She didn't know if she should be terrified or awestruck. "Who are you?" she instead asked again.

"As I said," the Human said, smiling at her as they stepped out of the cell, "I'm Luke Skywalker. And I'm supercool."

 

-line break-

 

On a control platform suspended above in the belly of an active volcano, Asajj Ventress was losing her mind.

"He fucking signs his own correspondence like that." she said through gritted teeth, staring at the recorded conversations her Master had transmitted her.

"Asajj." Dooku's hologram frowned. "It seems to me quite clear that this other Skywalker prefers neutral pronouns. Luke may be our enemy, but there's no reason to deny them basic respect."

Asajj scowled at the count. "Alright. I'll use "them" to refer to this other Skywalker. But why in Sith Hell are you on first-name basis with them?"

"They are...quite interesting."

It was certainly one way to put it.

Luke Skywalker's first mail to Count Dooku read:

Greetings, Count. Name's Luke, pronouns are "they/them". You don't know me yet, but I know you. We've got quite a few things in common. We're both former Jedi who think our Order has devolved into a bunch of pompous, useless fools. Their blind adherence to Republic law over the concerns of the larger Galaxy, even over the plight of the oppressed, is something that will destroy them. I know your Master, Darth Sidious, is counting on it. And I know who he really is. But allying yourself with slavers, gangsters and capitalists, and forcing the Separatists to share their army and Parliament with them, and have their genuine grievances be poisoned by their interests? Well, I think you're doing this all wrong, Dooku. I think you may have genuinely honorable ambitions, but you're either too naive or too arrigant to see you're allying with the very same people who would destroy them in a heartbeat out of utter greed. I think it's probably because you're a Count. So I propose a bet. I will make Palpatine's plans fail, utterly and miserably. I will make the Jedi Order feel like morons and the Republic like bastards, and I will create the liberation movement that you could not. I will make poster boys like Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi realize the errors of the Jedi ways, yes, and I'll make you realize the errors of the Sith ways. If I win I get your cape. You've got a pretty spiffy cape. I respect that.

Cheers,

Lucas George Skywalker

Better known as,

Luke Skywalker, supercool

 

Asajj's eyes narrowed as she re-read the document. "Master," she asked as she turned back to Dooku, "Is this channel esclusive to the two of us?"

"Of course, my Apprentice. What is it?"

"..."

"Yes?..."

"...Is Chancellor Palpatine Darth Sidious?"

"..."

"..."

"...Yes."

"...Fuck." Asajj slamped back in her chair. Under her platform, the lava churned. If she wanted to have fun, she could have used the Dark Side to play with it, maybe throw a few B1 droids down in it. That was the whole point of building that base into a volcano, to chuck Skywalker or Kenobi down in the lava when they came for the plans, or the Padawan. It was supposed to be fun.

But the revelation of Sidious's identity just made her feel empty and...cheated. "Why would Chancellor Palpatine play both sides?" she asked Dooku.

"To make the Republic lose and us win."

"Yeah. And what if we lose? What if the old coot likes his Republic just fine and discards us?" Asajj's eyes burned into her Master's.

Dooku's lips pressed into a thin line. "He's a Sith." he said, his face dark. "No matter. I am coming to your location."

"What?"

"I allowed the info of our trap to leak out to Luke Skywalker's associates. This was as much a trap for Anakin, or Kenobi, as it was for our friend." Dooku explained. "I will reveal what they've been up to in due time, as soon as I get there."

"Understood." Ventress said, and then a tremor rocked the whole base. Alarms started flashing everywhere, and the assassin was thrown into the command console.

"Ventress! Are you alright--"

"Yeah, just peachy, Master," snarked Ventress, pulling herself to her feet, and then scowling at the Count. "And you said Luke Skywalker was our 'friend', huh?"

 

-line break-

 

"Why the Hells did you dive headfirst for the droids??"

"Well I had to retrieve a blaster or we woulda been defenseless, ya know??"

Ahsoka cursed in her native language. This Luke Skywalker person was even crazier than her master. Here they were, aurrounded by a thousand battle droids, darting from cover to cover, Ahsoka covering Luke from blaster fire with their lightsaber while Luke shot at the clankers with two blasters and used the Force to throw them around.

"Well anyway we gotta find Ventress." said Ahsoka as they ran behind a pile of debris from the firefight, and called more debris and droid parts to the pail to form a makeshift barricade. "She has my lightsabers."

"And she has the card." Luke said, firing a couple shots from each blaster and downing a droid for each plasma bolt discharged.

"The what?"

"Don't pretend not to know--we're after the same thing, Ahsoka Tano." Luke said, looking right at her. "The data card containing all information on the new Separatist Fleet defense systems."

"Shouldn't you say 'we're on the same side'?" Ahsoka drawled. But before Luke could reply, a plasma bolt tore through their improvised barricade, spraying them with particles and microshards of debris. "Dank farrik!" she swore, hissing in pain from the places on her arms and face where she'd been grazed by the flying debris. Luke echoed the curse, themselves covered in scratches. "We need to end this and find Ventress. I can feel her, she's right above us."

"I've got an idea." Skywalker eyed an inactive tank in the other side of the room.

"That's too far away."

"I can jump very high with the Force. And very far. But not enough. I'll need a boost from you." they turned to Ahsoka. "While I get inside, you'll be defenseless, though."

"They'll be distracted by you. I can deflect their shots long enough to find cover."

"Alright. Think you're strong enough to aid my jump all the way there and fast enough that I don't get myself killed while trying?"

"My Master is the Chosen One." Ahsoka smirked as she deflected more blaster bolts. "Besides, you're pretty fast when you wanna be."

"Alright." Luke said, downing a few more droids, and then put a hand on her shoulder. "Run for cover immediately. I'm serious. I know how I acted earlier, and I know you just met me, but I don't want you to get hurt."

"Alright." Ahsoka said, and her tone hardened. "If we get out in one piece you'll have to tell me how you and Skyguy are related." she added, as they went through the motions again. It was getting harder, though--too many droids.

"What makes you think we are?"

"You're share his surname and insane strength in the Force, you called him 'Junior' and look somewhat alike. You're either a long-lost relative or you're trying to kill him. In which case," she looked at him as he kept shooting droids, "I will kill you."

"It's a deal." Luke smiled. "My blasters are overheating. I can feel it through my gloves. Let's do this."

Ahsoka took a breath and sent a Force push against the closest wave of clankers, not enough to send them away but enough to stun them. Luke jumped, twenty feet into the hair, and spun on themself to get momentum, throwing their overheating blasters in the thickest clusters of droids, where they detonated and shredded B1s and B2s alike with a discharge of burning hot plasma and liquefied metal. Ahsoka, taking advantage of the confusion, threw her whole self out with the Force, all into Luke, propelling them towards the tank. The Human spun and cartwheeled right into the open hatch.

The droids were in disarray. Ashoka didn't look at them twice, and booked it for the nearest cover as Luke used the tank's cannons to blast the room's ceilling into oblivion. This time it was Ahsoka's turn for acrobatics, jumping between blaster fire and rubble to get to the tank. Once on it, she climbed inside as Luke finished off the surviving droids with the cannons.

"Great." She said as she slid into the pilot's cabin, Luke at the console. "I thought you were just gonna blast the droids, but now since you blew up the ceiling you blew up the ascension platform, too."

"We don't need an ascension platform." Luke said as they redirected shield intensity. "We just need the Force."

"The Force? But...this thing is just too big to lift it with the Force all the way up there. We'd need Masters."

"Ahsoka, you wound me. Haven't I told you what I am?" 

Ahsoka groaned. "You're not gonna make me say that. Not in a million years."

Luke smiled.

Ahsoka gave them the finger.

Luke's smile persisted.

Ahsoka gave them both fingers.

Luke's smile kept persisting. It was the placid, calm smile of insanity.

"Fuck you." Ahsoka pinched the bridge of her nose, and never felt closer to understanding Master Kenobi. "Supercool. That's what you are. Supercool. You're fucking supercool" she seethed, looking back at Luke. "Happy now?"

"Never been happier." Luke's smile only grew wider, and they held out their arms. They closed their eyes, taking a deep breath, and then little by little, the tank started rising in the air.

"Holy kriff." Ahsoka breathed out, as metal groaned and wheezed all around them. "How are you doing that?"

"With quite a bit of effort." Luke said, face straining. "Lend me a bit of energy, if you please. I'll let you use the big gun on Ventress."

Ahsoka turned towards them, and bared her pointy Togruta teeth in a wide, savage smile. "Deal."

 

-line break-

 

Ventress went to the command room window, looking at the platform right across from it--the one leading down to the vehicle and droid hangar. It was a raging inferno, a hole blasted outward from below, droids and vehicles strewn about as the few remaining ones tried to regroup and make sense of the situation.

And then, one of their own tanks kriffing levitated out of the inferno.

"Hey, Ventress!" the voice of Ahsoka Tano blasted out of the tank's intercom, and Ventress ran a list of curses in her mind as she saw the barrel of the tank's main, biggest gun point straight at her. "FUCK YOU!"

And then the tank fired, destroying the command center in one shot.

 

-line break-

 

"This is pretty fun." Luke said, sitting on top of the tank as they flung droids and their speeders and artillery down in the volcano's boiling core. The high-pitched tones of the droids as they screamed all the way down to their destuction only made the scene more ridiculous.

"Yeah, I gotta admit it is." said Ahsoka, joining them. She grabbed a spider droid and flung it into he lava, where it exploded from the heat. "I doubt Ventress is dead tho."

"YA THINK??" Ventress's voice rang, as the woman lifted herself out of the command center's smoldering wreckage, bruised, battered and covered in scratches. She had a large gash on her forehead, and smaller cuts all over her arms and legs. Her long, wide skirt had gotten torn, revealing the shorts, bindings and boots underneath. Her top too had gotten torn, Ventress holding up the scraps of it to cover herself.

Ahsoka blushed. Ventress was, well, she wasn't overstacked, but she wasn't even flat as a board like her. And she was ripped, too. Wait, was she getting envious at the enemy?

"Take this." Luke said, tossing Ventress the shirt they had under their jacket and remaining bare-chested under the uniform. The Human was slender, yeah, but they too were ripped. Ahsoka blushed again. "If we have to fight, I don't want to do it while you're embarrassed." they said to the assassin, and Ahsoka took advantage of the moment where Ventress pulled the T-shirt over her head to put it on by Force-pulling her lightsaber and shoto off the assassin's belt and into her waiting hands. She took it back. Ventress was ripped and stacked.

"You know," Luke told her, "you could have took the infocard off her belt too, 'Soka."

Ahsoka blushed again, this time out of embarassment. 

"Yeah, I got distracted." she said, and bit her lip. The scars on that chest and abs...they were just like the ones on their arm, not tree branches  but lightning patterns crisscrossning their skin...

"Ahsoka, are you staring at me?"

"Wha--me? No!" Ahsoka blushed furiously, and Luke pinched the bridge of their nose. Oh, so she wasn't the only one to imitate Obi-Wan.

"Look, please stop. You're what, fifteen? Give me a break, I'm, like, old enough that you could be my daughter--"

"Well I mean you look old enough to be SKYGUY'S parent--"

"Kid, you don't know the half of it--"

"Oooooolllddd. Ancient. Fossil. Older than Master Kenobi--"

"Tsk. Obi-Wan wishes he had an ass this good, and he's dummy thicc!"

"If you children are all quite finished," a deep and very familiar voice boomed, and Ahsoka shuddered as she saw the tall, massive form of Count Dooku descend the ramp of his ship, hovering just over the wreckage of the command center, behind Ventress, "I would have words with thee, Luke Skywalker."

Luke clipped their lightsaber back to their belt and shrugged. "Okay" they said, and jumped off the tank, hands in their pockets.

"Luke!" Ahsoka jumped off the tank, following them as they walked--no, strolled--towards the Sith Lord and his apprentice. "Look, I know you're crazy strong, you managed to hide all your power from Ventress for Force's sake, but that guy is Count kriffin' Dooku, y'know?"

"Who says I'm not still hiding all my power?" Luke smiled to her as they walked. "Rule numero uno, 'Soka: being underestimated is the greatest trump card."

Ahsoka couldn't believe it. Was there really yet even more to underestimate about this person?

 

-line break-

 

"Ventress," Dooku said to his Apprentice. "You're wearing Skywalker's shirt."

Asajj scowled. "I did not sleep with them, Master, if that's what you're implying." she said, taking out her lightsabers. "Those two shot at me with a karkin' tank."

"I heard what they said." Dooku pursued his lips. "Perhaps only Kenobi would have been that much of a gentleman, or his master. This Luke Skywalker is more polite in their actions than their words...that's intriguing."

Dooku watched Skywalker and Padawan Tano come to a stop not even six feet away from them. Well into Dooku's easiest reach, just out of Tano's, right into Asajj's and barely out of Skywalker's. Calculations flashed in his mind. Why would Skywalker do this? It meant placing both them and Padawan Tano at a disadvantage. A show of trust? Confidence? Arrogance? Or did they really think that Dooku or Asajj would not attack?

"I can hear the gears turn in your mind, Count." Luke Skywalker stated. "I wouldn't mind fighting you, but I'd much rather we all cooperate."

They were slight, but wiry like a coiled spring. And yet their whole body was relaxed, their Force presence a beacon of calm in the Light as much as Dooku's was still in the Dark. That meant readiness, speed, quick reflexes.

"That was the impression I got from your letter, yes. That, and that you wanted to challenge me." Dooku's hand brushed his lightsaber hilt. Oh? What was that? A tinge of uncertainty, of impulsivity in old age? Nobody made him feel like that in his old age anymore, except Yoda, his Master, or Windu, the uptight fool. "I must say," Dooku continued. "I was quite impressed with your guerrilla operations in the Outer Rim. This 'communist' insurgency of yours, as it calls itself, is quite...pecultiar. I assume that its mysterious leader, this 'Ka'Lir' as voices call them, is you. And the IGBC heist on Muunlinist! My, I doubt San Hill and the Senate will be able to keep it under wraps for much longer, unlike what you've been doing about Zygerria."

Skywalker shrugged. "I just helped." humble. No grandstanding. No grand speeches. They really seemed to just want to talk. To...chat. "The people are sick everywhere around the Galaxy of capital and its wars. I just want to do what both you, the Republic, and the Jedi started out to do, and then didn't. End this meaningless suffering."

"I don't think your young friend, or I, would agree on how you've been doing that." Dooku's lips formed a smile. "She's much too ingrained in the ways of the Jedi. She wants our schematics to win, you want them to destroy the war machine...of both sides."

"I've seen a worse war than this, and many more smaller wars, with worse atrocities." Luke said, their eyes looking older for a second. "I fight you and the Republic only so that the Galaxy may throw away their weapons once it's all over."

"And yet you wrote me in an attempt at persuasion while you could have assassinated me."

"I want you to do the right choice." Luke shrugged. "Is it really a fight you want, Dooku?"

"Yes." Dooku finally took out his lightsaber. "You are an idealist, Luke. And the Sith prove that their ideas are worth merit with superior force."

"That's what the Jedi have been doing for a while, too."

"Why do you think I joined the Sith? At least they admit it." Dooku ignited his lightsaber. Everyone but Skywalker followed suit. "And plus...I want a full challenge from you, Luke Skywalker."

"Fine. But remember you asked." In a split second, Luke closed the distance between them, their lightsaber flying away from their belt and into their hand to make a mid-air cut, and Dooku had to block the blow with his own blade, talking a whole step back. No matter. Dooku flicked his wrist, sending Skywalker back, but Skywalker themselves moved only a step and attacked again. Dooku parried, counterattacked, attacked again--a thousand different moves running in his mind both from his training and experience, a thousand different options with which to choose, not a wasted movement as was typical of a master of Makashi like himself--and yet Luke Skywalker countered his very move and forced him to think even harder.

Dooku's presence rippled in the Force with joy. This, this was a challenge worthy of its name, yes! And the most wonderful thing of all--even if in a quieter way, Luke's Skywalker's whole being sang with mirth at the very duel they were conducting. They were both enjoying themselves. And in that moment, it was all Dooku wanted. It tore through machinations and rage and resentment and darness, through war and fear and endless plans within plans, and brought him back to his youth in the Jedi Temple, with Syfo-Dyas and Master Yoda, and all the other friends from that faraway time. It brought him...peace.

 

-line break- 

 

Ahsoka eyed Ventress. The assassin had her sabers out, just like her, and they were slowly circling each other. Dooku and Luke were fighting among the wreckage, sending shockwaves in the air with their every blow, their movement lightning-fast and barely readable. It seemed like it could go on forever. Luke was attacking Dooku as hard as Anakin usually did, and yet their self was calm, at peace, devoid of the frustration or anger that usually accompanied Ahsoka's Master in fights against Dooku. Even Dooku seemed more at ease, as if responding to Luke.

Ventress, meanwhile, was unreadable. Her usual scowl had turned into simple worry. In a 'usual' situation, she'd have pounced on Ahsoka and went for her throat. She too displayed an unnatural ease.

"Who do you think will win?" she asked her with a small smirk. If she could at least throw her off-balance, ruin her concentration...

"My Master is...enjoying himself." said Ventress. "Without cruelty or arrogance, this time. It's something that never happens, except for when it's the two of us that are dueling."

Okay, that threw Ahsoka off-balance. Dooku being a nice guy? In which Universe?

She decided to snark. "Didn't know you Sith could be so nice." 

Ventress snorted. "I am no Sith, nor will I ever be. My illusions about that have been...rudely shattered."

Ahsoka hid her surprise under an innocent smile and made batty eyes at her opponent. "Sooo...that mean you gonna give me the infocard and turn yourself in?"

"Yeah, no, not a chance." Ventress laughed, and pushed her away with the Force. Ahsoka went skidding away a couple feet, cursing. At least she'd tried. She ran at Ventress, calling to herself pieces debris from the wreckage to distract the woman. Ventress battered those away with her one of her lightsabers, and slashed at the ground with the other, sending rocks flying at Ahsoka. Ahsoka deflected those with her lightsaber and went into Ventress's space with her shoto for a stab, but the woman closed her guard and repelled her. Ahsoka snarled herself and attacked again, but Ventress countered her attack again and they soon found themselves locked in the same stalemate as Luke and Dooku.

"Stalemate?" laughed Ventress, sensing her feelings. "Don't make me laugh. Our weapons are different, you're smaller, shorter. Strength, reach and power are on my side."

"Yeah well," Ahsoka dodged under a slash instead of parrying it, sliding into Ventress's space and kicking her in the leg. "You're wounded and I'm not." she said, throwing her shoto upwards in the air and punching the woman as she went down, this time in the stomach. Ventress responsed with a spat and an inside-out double slash, forcing her back. Ahsoka called the shoto down on Ventress, but the woman simply deflected it back at her with the Force.

"Don't think you've won just yet, Padawan."

"Well," Ashoka smirked, producing a small, silver infocard between her two fingers. "Actually, I think I just did."

Ventress's hand went to her belt. "Shit." she said, and Ahsoka smiled in triumph.

 

-line break-

 

Despite his fun, Dooku was at a loss. He was the undisputed master of Makashi out of all the Jedi. Yoda was the master of Ataru. Obi-Wan of Soresu. Windu of Vaapad. And that insufferable Anakin was master of Djem So.

Very few Jedi could be called masters of one style, let alone all of them.

And yet Luke Skywalker seemed to switch effortlessly between all Seven Forms of lightsaber combat whenever it suited them. They jumped, spun, deflected, pressed, whaled on, switching between Forms as if they didn't care at all. Dooku could keep abreast of those wild shifts in patterns only through more than seventy years of study and practice. How was this possible?

And then, it dawned on him.

"You have no style at all." Dooku said, almost deflated, as he redirected a stab.

Luke Skywalker had the audacity to shrug while locked in combat. "I have plenty of style" they said with a smile. "Look how I rock this shirtless jacket!"

"Are you mocking me?" Dooku snarled. "You fight like a common street brawler."

"Well, I did grow up on Tattooine after all." Luke said, and then did the unthinkable.

They stepped on Dooku's cape.

Dooku slipped, his balance and concentration lost. Skywalker had stepped on his cape. Not even--not even Anakin had dared to go so low--

But Luke Skywalker went even lower. In fact, they fell on their mechanical hand, spun on it, and kicked Dooku's legs out from under him.

The fallen Jedi fell...flat on his butt. Anger and humiliation shot though Dooku, but a sharp pain in his lower back and knees prevented him from even reaching a seated position as far as he'd liked. And even as he managed that, cursing his old age, he couldn't be prepared for what came next. Luke Skywalker ripped the skin and flesh off their own right hand and slapped him with it.

Dooku realized only a moment later it was synthetic, but it mattered little. The slap stung worse than a killing blow. His composure and pride were gone in and instant, and he could only feel rage.

With a guttural cry, he let it all flow outward, deep purplish blue Force lightning right at his enemy.

And Luke simply...abdorbed it through their flesh hand.

"Been there, done that." they stated, and it was as if Dooku's shock was enough to make his rage disappear. Skywalker put the synthetic flesh back on their prostethic hand, and continued: "I slapped you with a glove, so to speak, as you were down because I wanted to make you understand how it feels, in a language I thought an aristocrat like you could appreciate. I was a moisture farmer. Me and my family dug tracking chips--miniaturized bombs, Dooku--out of escaped slaves. I cut open people to help them gain the freedom I was born with when I was ten, and I was the first freeborn of my name. I've been getting kicked in the teeth since I was even younger, and I've had to survive in the sands of Tattooine. Your volcano? It's fun, it's campy, it's sincere. It's the thing I live for. But its fire is almost cold compared to the heat I'm used to."

Dooku grit his teeth in rage at being talked down like that, but remained still. No point in attacking them as they talked, even now that he'd recovered his senses. Luke Skywalker had dimostrated that, if they so wanted, they could be faster and more unpredictable than him...in a way only Sidious matched. Just who was this Luke Skywalker?

"I'm nobody. Just a kid from Tatooine who's had enough of seeing privileged, sheltered fucks harm innocents, either consciously or because they don't even realize that the little people exist, and far outnumber them." Skywalker said, sensing his thoughts. "Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al is the trickster spirit of forgotten Tatooine. They are who Anakin Skywalker dreamed to be yet never was, because goddamn it, did he ever go to Tattooine and help the slaves free themselves?" Luke's hands had balled into fists, and the lava raged as they stood over Dooku and kept talking, green lightining striking from the clouds above the volcano--green like Skywalker's lightsaber, Dooku noted, as the blong kept fell silent. Their face had darkened, and their hair was billowing in the air discharge from Dooku's ship and the energy from the volcano. And Dooku could feel their rage: it was nothing like Anakin's. This fury was cold, a storm that could slip by unnoticed, focus on a single point and become a nuke whenever it wished.

"Then why haven't you gone to the other Skywalker, instead of me?" Dooku snapped. "You share a family name with Anakin, and I'm sure you share blood. He'd be delighted to get a speech from you. The boy oh so loves lessons."

Luke laughed darkly, and ran a hand through their hair. It was then that Dooku noticed the scars on their chest: a thousand small lighning patterns, in shapes that came only from prolonged exposure to Force lightning. This person had known the Dark Side. "Anakin is a kid. He's twenty, for Force's sake. He thinks he's gotta do everything by extremes. He thinks in absolutes, like a Sith, even if he hates the Sith absolutely, on principle. You're a grown-ass man. I wanted to meet you, discuss philosophy with you, but you're a moron too. You can rationalize, yes, but like every Jedi of this time you rationalize too much and fall into the same banthashit as Anakin." Luke's anger dissipated, and it was replaced by determination. "You and him are equals and opposites. You both think you'll free the people by handing them over to a dictator, and fight for the same master on opposite sides of the barricade. But me? I'm soooo done with this shit, Dooku. I couldn't care less. I'll burn your goddamn war machine to the ground, and then you'll have to decide if you want to play faux-bipolarism or really serve the Galaxy, so to speak."

"So?" Dooku asked. He'd been bested. Skywalker's wasn't logic, it was facts. But he couldn't abandon Sidious's side. Or could he?

"So clean up your act." Luke said, stepping away and fiddling with a communicator on their belt. "You get one warning. That was it."

A ship, a modified YT-1300 freighter, roared into the caldera of the volcano, and Dooku didn't even get up as Luke Force-jumped on the freighter's extended ramp. "Hey, Ahsoka!" they called to the Jedi Padawan still fighting with Ventress. Said Padawn jumped ten feet back from where she was and sent a Force push to stall her adversary. "What?" she called to the strange warrior--and then the infocard flew out of her belt and into Luke's hand.

"You're great, kid, if a bit distracted." they smiled, and reached out with their other hand. Ventress was yeeted away and landed right next to Dooku in a heap.

"Dooku, I don't wanna see you die in a place like this without fighting. Take Ventress and run. You'll need time to think, I'm sure, and we all need time to rest." the old Count gave them a grim nod, and then helped his apprentice to the ship. "That goes for you too, Ahsoka. I suggest you book it in the opposite direction, your teacher is coming in with bombers on this place."

"You can't just take the infocard." Ahsoka protested. "The Republic needs that information!"

"I'm sorry." Luke said, a pained expression on their face as the ship slowly turned to be nearer to the Padawan. "Give my regards to Anakin."

"I trusted you." Ahsoka seethed. "But you let Dooku and Ventress go free." she said, gesturing to the Sith who were getting in their ship, ready to run away.

"Should I kick them while they're down? Is that the Jedi way?"

"No, but--" Ashoka cursed. "You promised to tell me what's your relation to Anakin. You promised, Luke, and then you betrayed my trust and that uniform which is probably stolen--"

"He's family." Luke's face softened, and Ahsoka fell silent in shock. "He's family, 'Soka. Close and distant at the same time. I never knew him when he was young, and I regret it. I wish I could have helped him make healthier choices. Yet I love him with all my heart, because I know he's a good man, and he loves you, and Obi-Wan, and all his friends. I wish he could see what I'm doing. I wish we could meet without fighting...but we're on opposite sides of the fight. And I can't tell you anything more for now, sorry."

Ahsoka opened her mouth and then closed it. The ship with Ventress and Dooku was fleeing out of the caldera ads here she sat talking with this utterly incomprehensible being. "Alright. Fine. But--"

"If you want to meet me again, the Force will bring us together."

"But--why are we on opposite sides?"

"Well, for starters, ask yourself, or your teachers, one simple question: are Clones free?" Luke's face hardened again for a second, and then they smiled again. "Bye, Ahsoka."

"We will meet again."

"Alright." Luke smiled. "Just remember one thing."

Ahsoka laughed despite the direness of the situation, the smoldering wreckages of the base all around her, the utter failure of her mission, Dooku and Ventress's escape, and the fact she was inside a volcano. "I know what you're gonna say. And I know you know I know."

"Of course I do." Luke said as the ship started ascending out of the caldera. "After all, I'm Luke Skywalker, and I'm supercool."

The ship flew away, and Ahsoka watched it evade and shoot both at Seppie fighters and Republic ones. Whoever Luke had piloting it (and Ashoka could bet that it was the boyfriend Luke had mentioned) was good. But she'd seen enough. She turned and ran in the opposite direction. She could hear explosions, loud and close, just outside the volcano, but when she finally got out, it was all over. Among the fire and the smoke, Anakin Skywalker was covered in oil and droid circuits, and even his soldiers of the 501st were eyeing him warily as they surveyed what remained of the droid forces and vehicles.

"Hey, Snips." Anakin smiled at her as soon as he saw her. "How ya been?"

His hands were shaking and his lightsaber was still lit in them. Ahsoka didn't know what to reply.

 

-end chapter

Notes:

TEASER for Chapter 2: Upstaged

"M-my name is B-bernie. H-he/him. I'm thirty-four. P-please don't hurt me."
"We're not here to do that Bernie. You can relax. I'll tell you my name if you like. People call me Ka'Lir. I'm thirty-two." Anakin did a double take at that name. Whoever this person was, they had to be from Tatooine. "Now Bernie, what were you shooting before we came in?"
"A-a c-commercial f-for the IGBC."
"And are you unionized, Bernie? Are you or any of your colleagues unionized?"
"N-no sir."
"No worker protection for you then, Bernie. No right to strike, no right to bargain, no right to demand for better conditions. And why's that?"
"IGBC rules, s-sir. Nobody who wants to work for the IGBC, on-world or off-world, is allowed to be unionized."
"Would you like to be unionized, Bernie? Would any of your colleagues and friends want to be unionized?"
"W-we all would sir. But rules won't let us. The IGCB charter says it would restrict freedom of business."
"Can you point your camera at who makes those rules, Bernie?" Bernie pointed his camera to San Hill, still cowering behind a huge mahogany desk. Ka'Lir marched straight to him, grabbed him by his collar, and body slammed him over the desk and onto the floor as if he weighed nothing and wasn't a full meter taller than them. "Treat your workers fair. Let them unionize. Or we'll come back." Ka'Lir said, pointing their finger at San Hill's face instead of their gun. Then they turned back, towards the end of the hall, where two other ops were working at a terminal. "Riri! How's our withdrawal comin' up?"
"We're done here!" one of the ops, a Togruta, called back. "We can all go home!"
"Splendid." said Ka'Lir, and their men rushed to the broken windows, while they turned to the cameraman. "I'm gonna need your tape, Bernie. Hope you don't mind."

Chapter 2: And are you unionized, Bernie?

Summary:

Jedi General Anakin Skywalker tries to take in the sudden revelation that he has a relative who *might* not exactly agree with him on anything. And who *might* be trying to embarass him, the Republic and his best friend (and toootally not a dark evil wizard) the Galactic Chancellor...by being a communist.

Chapter Two: And are you unionized, Bernie?

 

21 BBY, hyperspace between Chelli Minor and Coruscant

 

Most times, when Anakin Skywalker trained in one of the public areas of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, people would sit around and stare. There was nothing that did not come natural to him. The Force seemed to flow through him, guiding him to the best course of action and lending incredible power to his blows. To watch him train was a show. The outsider and yet the Chosen One, clearly demostrating his Chosen One-ness by being better at everything. 

It really helped him, those first few years in the temple. People always stared at him with confusion and suspicion, because he was an outsider. He hadn't been a Jedi since he was a toddler like all the rest. But he was so good, so that counted. And when he was being that good, that amazing, the stares were stares of awe. It was way better, to Anakin.

But when the war came, it all changed.War brings out a side of us that we do not want to see, had said Master Yoda, and he'd been right. The way Anakin fought became more aggeessive, more forceful. He needed to be like that, after all, to take down squads of droids. He had to win battles quick while also minimizing damages and casualties for his clones. The Force helped him in that too. It made him harder, better, faster, stronger.

Anakin punched in the codes for the fight simulation and put on the visor. The modest training room gave way to a solid hologram of a thick jungle. The calls of birds and insects replaced the low hum of the ship engines, and Anakin Skywalker centered himself.

A small crack came from his left, and Anakin drew his saber, darting towards the spurce of the sound. It was a patrol of battle droids, flanked by two super battle droids. The enemy drew their weapons, but the smaller droids didn't even have time to react before Anakin tore through them with his lightsaber. The two Super battle droids whirled around to entrap him in a pincer tactic, but Anakin ducked out of the way and let them shoot each other before they could realize they'd been duped. They went down, but Anakin had little breathing room: gatling blaster fire tore through the foliage, forcing him to run off. More Super battle droids, six B2-HA models this time. They had miniguns for arms and were flanking a defoliator-class tank. Anakin retreated in the underbush and threw a rock behind the tank, making the droids turn around in confusion. Anakin charched, Force-slamming the B2-HAs against the hard durasteel of the tank. He deflected one of the cannon blasts from the tank into the nearest super battle droids with his lightsaber and chucked a tree branch in the mouth of the tank's main cannon, blocking it. He went straight for the tank, disarming the first B2-HA that managed to recover with an arm amputation and forcing the next to fire its minigun at the tank's secondary cannons, putting them out of commission, and then pulling that very same minigun out of the droid's body with the Force in a shower of pistons, wires and oil. The droid stumbled backwards into another clanker, and Anakin backflipped out of the way to jump on top of the tank avoid more blasterfire. He cut the main cannon as he was still in mid air and hurled it through two more clankers with the Force, spearing them through the middle. As he landed, he cut the hatch cover off, used it as a blast shield against the two B2-HAs that had been left with functioning arm cannons, then threw it straight trhough the head of the fartest one, while forcing the closest to shoot itself. He took a step back, whirled his lightsaber around--and cut the head off from the officer droid that was exiting from the tank hatch to knife him in the back.

Enemy neutralized, for now, he thought as he breathed out--and a slow clap replaced the sounds of the jungle.

"Impressive." the soft accent of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi rang out, and Anakin took off the visor. "The clones have trouble with that simulation, but you knocked it out of the park in forty-five seconds flat."

"Does this mean I've beaten another of your records, Master?" Anakin asked his former teacher with a cheeky grin.

"Come now Anakin, you know there's no record of mine that you've left unbeaten."

"Well, sometimes talent beats training."

"True. But nothing beats some good old-fashioned sparring when it comes to training." Obi-Wan stepped back and made an inviting gesture. "What do you say, Padawan mine?"

"Alright." Anakin unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and turned it on. "Sometimes, Master, you'll have to explain to me why you keep focusing so much on lightsaber sparring versus field combat training."

Obi-Wan drew his saber and parried Anakin's first attack. "It's simple in my mind, really--it's to keep my feet on the ground."

Anakin made an underhand swipe, and Obi-Wan sidestepped, pushing his saber away. Anakin pressed on, forcing the Jedi Master to retreat. "Oh really? But of all the hundred battles we've been fighting on the ground, only a few were with Ventress or Dooku."

"Yes, but that's not the point. These duels we do, Anakin, serve to remind me that fighting doesn't need to result in death." Obi-Wan parried a overhead strike, spun inside it, and Force-pushed Anakin away. The younger Jedi was caught by surprise, but managed to stop his momentum just a couple feet away. "Not all problems need to be solved with violence, and not all violence needs to hurt the opponent."

"Alright, you got me there." Anakin gave a forced smile. "But you played dirty, Obi-Wan--I thought you were gonna carve me up."

"Or maybe you thought I was going to hurt you and reacted way too early to be able to see and counter my real move. Like I said, Anakin, violence shouldn't be the first thing that we expect."

"It's been the most normal thing for the past year, Master. Honestly, it's much more of a relief when we expect only mere violence and we get it just that and nothing else."

Obi-Wan frowned. "This is about Chelli Minor, isn't it?" he asked, deactivating his lightsaber.

Anakin did the same and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, where to even begin? I was so worried for Ahsoka, this was far more dangerous than her previous missions and she was alone."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Well now you know how I always felt about you."

"Yeah, okay, fair shot. But that's not the only problem."

"You're talking about our mystery Jedi then. This...Luke Skywalker." Obi-Wan drew closer to Anakin, and put a hand on his shoulder. "I can sense that this thing has been troubling you, Anakin. Remember, you can always tell me everything. I'm here for you." he told him, but Anakin averted his gaze. Obi-Wan winced. His former Padawan had grown taller than him, but he'd just turned twenty--he was still so young. Too young for all of this hardship.

"They told Ahsoka we're related. And you saw the picture she drew of them--we look alike." Anakin's voice was shaky. All the usual confidence in it had vanished. "But...what does this mean? That my mother had another child before me and never told me?" he turned back to Obi-Wan, his eys glistening. "It'd mean I'm not alone anymore. That I-I have a sibling, or a cousin, or something--that I'm not alone--"

"You're not alone in any case Anakin. You have me, you have Ahsoka, the troopers, the Order."

Anakin shook his head and made a face. "I know that. But you don't know what I'm talking about. You're the model Jedi. You've been a Jedi since you were a toddler. You've never known your mother's face--blood family is something that cuts deeper, Obi-Wan. Especially on Tatooine." Especially for slaves, was what he wanted to say, but he couldn't force the words out.

Obi-Wan hung his head. "You're right, I can't." he said, and then looked back at Anakin, squeezing his shoulder. "But I'm here to support you, whatever you go through. Everybody on this ship is, Anakin."

"Thanks." Anakin sniffed, and blinked away the tears from his eyes. "I'll go see Ahsoka if it's all right."

"Of course."

Anakin breathed and walked out of the room. He could sense Ahsoka was in the hangar bay, and decided to walk straight to her. They'd had so little time to talk after her report, and Ahsoka hadn't even tried to go to him. When they'd extracted her on Chelli Minor, it seemed as if she'd been more shaken up by seeing him again than by her ordeal. And that made Anakin feel weird. His Padawan had withdrawn, and it wasn't like her at all. But there was a second reason, too--he wanted to know more about this Luke Skywalker.

He stepped into the hangar bay. Their Venator-class ship was abuzz with excitement. Personnel would be going on leave, and this had put everyone in a good mood despite the half-failure of their mission.

He found Ahsoka sitting atop her starfighter, sketchpad and pencil in hand, watching an impromptu volleyball game between the 212th and the 501st.

"Hey, Snips," he called at her with a smile, "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure." Ahsoka shrugged, and scooted to the side to make room for him. Anakin climbed on next to her, and spied her sketchpad. She was drawing the game, in a style of little stylized figures of movement with small studies of the clones' faces around the edges of the paper.

"You're getting really good at this." Anakin whistled. "I wish you had your talent."

"I can teach you if you can teach me to fix stuff at least half as good as you do, Skyguy."

"Deal." Anakin said, and his smile fell despite himself. "Can you...show me that drawing again? Of...them?"

Ahsoka's smile turned painful. "Alright." She flipped the page, and there stood the figure of Luke Skywalker. Short, wiry, hair lighter than Anakin's and with a few lines and faded scars on their face already. But they had the same cleft chin and the same blue eyes. The resemblance was there, even with Ahsoka's stylization.

"How...how old do you think they are?" Anakin asked.

"Mid or late thirties, why?"

"I was rationalizing. If my mother had another child before me, but was forced to give them away..." Anakin bit his lip. "But my mother would have been too young to give birth to Luke, and at the same time they would have been too young to be my...other parent"

"Well...they kept calling you junior."

Anakin smiled at her. "Yeah? See, the possibility, it's so...it's overwhelming, Snips." and then his smile fell again, and he clenched his fist. "But they didn't want to meet me. Who cares if we're fighting on different sides? Family should go beyond that."

"Even if they don't believe in the good of the Republic?"

"They went to Tatooine and fought to free the slaves. It's what I'd have done if the Jedi had let me. But that's the Senate and the Council's fault, not the Jedi's, or the Republic's. I bet that if I ever met this Luke I could convince them of the good of fighting for the Republic's cause with no issue. I mean, comparing us with monsters like Dooku or the Hutts is just ridiculous. I mean, the Hutts? It's because of the Hutts that there's slavery on Tatooine!"

"Yeah but see, the problem is, they asked me this question," Ashsoka interjected, "And it's been driving me nuts since then."

"What is it?"

Ahsoka closed her sketchbook and looked straight into Anakin's eyes. "Master," she asked, "Are the clones...free?"

That threw Anakin for a loop. He looked at Rex, Captain of his 501st, playfully ribbing Oby Wan's Commander Cody over his team's volleyball loss, he looked at Hardcase, Tup, Kix, and all the others in the 501st. Slaves? Them? The man he could call friends more than any people in the Jedi Order save for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka? "They are not slaves." he answered, his tone hard. "Nobody ever put bombs in them."

"But the Kaminoans put tracking and behavioral chips in them all the same, didn't they?" Ahsoka replied. "Rex, Cody, and all the others--they were produced on an assembly lines like droid. Speed-grown and trained from birth to be soldiers for us. They didn't choose to serve in this war like the volunteers of the GAR, nor were they drafted like us. They get no stipend save some money for leave and leave only, they cannot vote, they cannot leave the Army if they so wish. How are they free?"

Anakin opened his mouth to replt, but couldn't think of anything. A cold, sinking feeling started settling in the pit of this stomach. He looked at Rex and Cody again. He looked at their battalions, Waxer and Boil squabbling over a game of cards, Fives braiding Sister's hair. They were never given names, only numbers. They'd given themselves those names they used.

Anakin felt he could throw up.

"Is everything okay, General Skywalker, sir?" he turned and saw Rex and Cody approaching their position, concerned looks on their face. "You look pale."

"I'm alright guy, just tired." Anakin lied.

"Guess Jedi too can get tired like us normal clones, huh?" Rex ribbed him with a smile. "Don't worry General, you'll have plenty of time to rest on leave. And who knows, the War might end by itself while you do."

"It's naive to think that it will be so easy." grunted Cody. "The Seppies are merciless."

"Well Cody, I was just trying to cheer the General up."

"Sure, total defeat of the Seppies will cheer me up too, but with so many systems turning traitor, who knows how long the war could rage on?"

"But it will end. All wars have to end." Anakin stated, and then smiled. "And I can't wait for it. What about you guys? What will you do when the war's over?"

Rex blanked out for a minute. "I mean...we were trained only for this war, so...I don't know?"

"Keep on doing more of the same, I guess." Cody shrugged. "The Republic will need the GAR to become its standing army to keep the peace and prevent another CIS from rising up, once we win."

"Well, I'd like to take a break, if possible." Rex said. "See the Galaxy. Visit planets without ending up getting shot at by clankers or insurgents. Learn languages and cultural notions and not having to use them for battle because, well...it's fun? Yes, that's the right word. I suppose I wouldn't mind sticking to you Jedi, even in a civilian security force capacity. After all, someone's got to keep you out of trouble, General Skywalker."

"Har har."

"But yeah, I don't know if we'll be allowed to choose. Like Cody said, the Republic could decide to draft us into a permanent standing army."

"Well, then we're all lucky I have a friend in the Senate who I can ask about that." Anakin smiled, and held out a hand to Ahsoka. "Hand me the paper and pencil, will ya Snips? I have a survey to conduct."

 

-line break

 

A couple days later, Coruscant

 

Anakin was downright skipping as he walked out of the turbolift of Republica 500, the high-rise hosting all the Republic's Senators--but most importantly his wife, Senator Padme Naberrié Amidala of Naboo. The datapad in his hand was burning like coal, but in a good way. He could show her he could finally get all her boring paperwork and stuff and help her, even if he didn't understand all the jargon about the law and all.

What he found was however the apartment in disarray: the blinds turned down, furniture overturned, and Padme balancing on a ladder checking a light fixture in the ceiling. 

"Oh, hi Annie," she said, taking a screwdriver out of her mouth and flashing him a smile. "How are you?"

"F...fine?" Anakin stammered, closing the door behind himself. "What are you doing, Padme?"

"Checking for bugs." Padme said, and screwed the fixture back in its place. "I don't suppose you heard about the upheaval with the Senate credit accounts with the IGBC haven't you?"

"The what with the what?"

"Terrorists assaulted the InterGalactic Banking Clan's management center on Muunlinist a week ago. San Hill, the Chairman, managed to keep the details under wraps, but slowly someone started leaking details to the press, and many Senators were found to have money ties to Separatist companies. Many have claimed that it's a witch hunt, that it's planted evidence, but in any case the planet is abuzz with reciprocal accusations and enquiry requests." Padme handed him a datapad. "Here, watch this."

Anakin took the datapad. It was playing a Meriax's Half Hour, a yellow journalism-type HoloNet broadcast, and the Zabrak broadcaster was sinking her fangs into the topic.

"Now dear viewers, the following images have been leaked to every press outlet in the Galaxy, we have been told. But only Meriax's Half Hour will show you the full uncut version, so if you're squeamish, look away now!" the broadcast cut to another camera, showing a large, vustling holl with great windows that went from floor to ceiling. A very disgruntled San Hill was adjusting the collar of his robe, a paper cup of caf in his hand. "Is it rolling already? Kriff, Bernie, this commercial is taking longer to shoot than my grandma's Vestrish dog when we had to put it down..."

"Only a minute, sir. You remember your lines?"

"Yeah, the IGBC is cutting bureaucracy to open itself up for easier transfers of credit, in the name of free and confidential circulation of capital, and we urge the Senate of the Galactic Republic to consider doing the same in the interest of true financial freedoms--OH MY SWEET GODS!"

The loud boom of exploding glass broke off San Hill's words, and armed operatives on ziplines jumped into the hall. Guards and security droids sprang into action--the shot slightly changing as the cameraman took cover behind a desk--but they were all stunned in quick succession by the intruders. The cameraman crept out a little more, and Anakin got a better look at them: they were all wearing blue-and-brown jumpsuits under orange longoats, all in muted colors with black breathing masks and goggles. The only speck of bright color were bright red scarves or handkerchiefs at their necks. It looked like a mixed group--Humans, Twi'Leks, Duros, Togrutas.

A blonde Human jumped on one of the desks, shouting to the crowd: "Sentients and gentlebeings, please calm down. We are neither here to arm you not to take away any money from the little guy. If you all comply and keep quiet as we work, you'll all be home safe and sound in no time." Anakin brought the datapad closer to his face and focused his eyes on the image of the Human. Blonde, short...they couldn't be Luke, could they?

 "Hey, you!" the leader called to the cameraman. "Come here, we want you to film some things for us."

The cameraman yelped in fear, but complied. He took his camera with him, and focused straight on the leader.

"Good, thank you. Come, don't be afraid, I just wanna get to know you. Like, what's your name, friend, what are your pronouns, how old are you?"

"M-my name is B-bernie. H-he/him. I'm thirty-four. P-please don't hurt me."

"We're not here to do that Bernie. You can relax. I'll tell you my name if you like. I am the Starkiller. People call me Ka'Lir. I'm thirty-four myself." Anakin did a double take at that name. Whoever this person was, they had to be from Tatooine--and know his mother."Now Bernie, what were you shooting before we came in?"

"A-a c-commercial f-for the IGBC."

"And are you unionized, Bernie? Are you or any of your colleagues unionized?"

"N-no sir."

"No worker protection for you then Bernie. No right to strike, no right to bargain, no right to demand for better conditions. And why's that?"

"IGBC rules, s-sir. Nobody who wants to work for the IGBC, on-world or off-world, is allowed to be unionized."

"Would you like to be unionized, Bernie? Would any of your colleagues and friends want to be unionized?"

"W-we all would sir. But rules won't let us. The IGCB charter says it would restrict freedom of business."

"Can you point your camera at who makes those rules, Bernie?" Bernie pointed his camera to San Hill, still cowering behind a huge mahogany desk. Ka'Lir marched straight to him, grabbed him by his collar, and body slammed him over the desk and onto the floor as if he weighed nothing and wasn't a full meter taller than them. "Treat your workers fair. Let them unionize. Or we'll come back." Ka'Lir said, pointing their finger at San Hill's face instead of their gun. Then they turned back, towards the end of the hall, where two other ops were working at a terminal. "Riri! How's our withdrawal comin' up?"

"We're done here!" one of the ops, a Togruta, called back. "We can all go home!"

"Splendid." said Ka'Lir, and their men rushed to the broken windows, while they turned to the cameraman. "I'm gonna need your tape, Bernie. Hope you don't mind."

The video cut there, Bernie having in all probability given the tape to Ka'Lir. Anakin had the sinking feeling that Ka'Lir was Luke. And not only they were an enemy: they had the gall to behave like a common thief and sporting--tarnishing--the name of Ka'Lir while doing it?

But the video cut back to the show.

"Welcome back, dear viewers! It soon became apparent to all that would read those mysterious, anonymous messages, that what the terrorists had stolen wasn't just the elites' money, but dirty money--money coming from Republic Senator dealings with Separatist officials!" the video cut to a spycam from an untelevised Senate session. Chancellor Palpatine was trying to keep the peace in an uprorious chamber.

"Senators, colleagues, please! I promise a full enquiry will be made into the matter before any further proceedings..."

"What further proceedings? We been sent proof of traitorous behavior from our own fellow representatives! This calls for preventive jailing!"

"What you propose would shut down the chamber, over a third of representatives and staff would need to be replaced."

"Well who's to say that their votes would matter, that we would need them? Who's to say their worlds haven't turned traitor as they themselves did?"

"This is preposterous! Our loyalty is not in question, this is clearly a Separatist plot, planting fake evidence to sow chaos and discord!"

Anakin turned off the video. "So, a shitshow." he sighed, and then bit his lip. "But if it was those thieves that leaked the paper trails, they...did us a favor?"

"They still kept the money." Padme put up another light fixture, and climbed down from the ladder. She pulled a small piece of paper out of her hair and gave it to Anakin. "Here's the reason I'm paranoid about bugs, too."

Anakin frowned and unfurled the paper.

He read it.

Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al djo'mel harim. Nagari wo gado, wero, dju Tatooine duwo mira. Wo na'kyrà Padme. Na'wesho, Lukka.

"Well, what does it say?"

Anakin had a knot in his throat. "It's the kura al-harim. The tongue of the abandoned. The tongue of the slaves. It says...Ka'Lir Sky-Walker found the abandoned. You're welcome, brother, in the center of the sky among the Suns. You and your wife--it mentions your name. Your sibling--Light."

"Sounds...vague?" Padme frowned. "Also, Anakin, I found this note in my desk drawer. A locked desk drawer, with no CCTV evidence of anybody intruding in this apartment. And this person clearly knows we're married."

"Their name is Luke. That's what Lukka transliterates to in Basic." Anakin said, blinking away the tears, before realizing he came off as harsher than he wanted. "They're saying here that Tatooine is free and we are welcome there, as a couple."

"Ka'Lir was the name of the terrorist from the video. And Skywalker is your surname. What does it mean?"

"Skywalker's a hopeful name for slaves. It's one of the attributes of Ka'Lir, the spirit of freedom, the slave who broke their chains. I think...this Luke might...oh kriff, I haven't even told you anything about our last mission, where do I even start?"

"Anakin," Padme squeezed his elbows. "Breathe. I get it. What this person is saying. It's two dreams of yours. Being able to free the slaves on Tatooine and having a place where we can be openly married without the Jedi Council expelling you for violating the rule of no attachment."

"Yeah." Anakin nodded, calming down.

"But we're at war. We need to have all the facts...you may be the strongest Jedi I know, but you're also my husband. And you getting hurt is my worst fear."

"The facts are that Ahsoka was on Chelli Minor to steal Separatist plans. But she got beaten to the punch by a rogue, unknown Force-user calling themselves Luke Skywaker...who looked like this." Anakin stated, handing Padme the drawing Ahsoka had made of Luke. "They said we're related. And they mentioned having freed the slaves on Tatooine."

"They...they look a lot like you. And there's a familiarity I can't quite play, from such a stylized sketch." Padme commented. "What if they are the Ka'Lir from the IGBC heist?"

"They look close enough, even with the mask. And they told Ahsoka that the war is a sham, that we Jedi are being played, and that they wanted to fight both sides. So yeah...they have been hurting both us and the Seppies." Anakin's face darkened. "I can't accept that they hold us in the same regard as monsters like Dooku or Ventress or Grievous. But if they weren't lying about Tatooine...then they've done for us more than the Republic ever did."

"I know, Annie. I try to do my best in the chamber about this issue, but people feel that the war is the only issue we should contend with..."

"About that, I thought of something you could look at." Anakin pulled out his datapad with a shy smile, and handed it to Padme. "About the Clones, and how to fully integrate the soldiers that are fighting for us into the Republic. If Tatooine is too far away...maybe you'll have less difficulty in getting this to pass."

"The clones?" Padme frowned, and looked at the datapad. Her face fell. "I...I hadn't even considered this."

"This Luke put into Ahsoka's ear and she put it in mine. If we solve this kind of contradiction, we can prove them wrong about the Republic."

"This...this is so detailed." Padme smiled as she skimmed the document. "There's surveys, proposals from the clones themselves, you even read the law...It's very well-put together."

"After teasing you about spending all your time in bureaucracy I finally figured it was actually better to learn something about it." Anakin blushed, rubbing the back of his head. "I mean, my teasing was unfair. What you do, it's...it's massive."

"Oh, shut up. I couldn't have married a better husband." Padme said, and kissed him. "But I must admit I'm proud that you got interested in this kind of stuff all the same." she added as she detached.

Anakin couldn't help but giggle like a schoolboy at the compliment. He went to reply, but a sharp beep cut him off before he could even speak a word. It was his communicator.

"Skywalker." he groaned, answering the thing.

"Skyguy, where are you? I've been giving my report to the Council with Master Kenobi, but something else has come up and we need you here. The Council needs you here."

"Coming, Snips." Anakin shit off the comm. There it was again. That cold feeling in his gut.

 

-line break-

 

The Council Room was eerily silent, when Anakin came in. Ahsoka stood in the center, Obi-Wan was in his seat, everybody was looking at him with varying degrees of distrust.

"I suppose you have heard about the IGBC heist on Muunlinist, Jedi Skywalker." began Mace Windu, looking dead straight at him.

"Um, yeah." Anakin cleared his throat. "Why?"

"Well, Padawan Tano has informed us about your mysterious supposed relative. And it seems that not only do they have such sordid pasttimes...but this has begun circulating on the HoloNet as of today, too."

Windu pressed a button on the right armrest of his seat, and a holovideo filled the Council Room. Five people stood in front of an assortment of red flags, humans and aliens together. A Twi'Lek, a Togruta, a Human, a Duros and even--even a Tusken?!

Anakin's fists clenched together in rage, remembering the dying eyes of his mother in the Tusken raider camp. How could these people allow the Tuskens a seat in their leadership?

He willed himself into stillness. He was in the middle of the Jedi Council. He couldn't let them recognize his feelings: only Padme and the Larses knew about that night. He had met, briefly, a Tusken Jedi before the war, but this...he couldn't fathom this.

He tried to distract himself observing more of the video.

The flags were ordered in a foreground row of four plain red flags, standing behind the aliens around the Human in the center, ans stood in front of two bigger flags. One bore in the upper mast corner a simple yellow design of vibrohammer crossed with a sickle, while the other bore a singular design in the upper mast corner: three golden discs, one bigger and two smaller, encircled by a golden dragon. The one who spoke, the center one, was a slender being with blonde hair, wearing a combat gear and a respirator mask with goggles, with a lightsaber at their belt. "Greetings, sentients of the Galaxy. I am Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al, elected Chair of the Socialism and Liberation Movement and elected commander of the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance. I come from a family of slaves and farmers from forgotten Tattooine, former home of Hutt crime lord Jabba Desilijic Tijure. I denounce first and foremost the hypocrisy of the Galactic Republic, for making both peacetime and wartime deals with this known slaver while it condemns slavery in its Constitution. The people of Tattooine, Tuskens, slaves and workers together, have had enough of this hypocrisy, and have risen up. We have slain Jabba, taken back control of our land, our resources, our means of production, our freedom. We are going to help all enslaved people across the Galaxy do the same. Be their slavery carried out through an explosive chip in their bodies or through wages, feudal lordships, or worker subjugation, it makes no difference to us. Wage labor are the chains of the supposedly free sentient. How can you call free the being who needs to sell their body to their boss in order to eat, to provide for their children?"

Anakin could feel a swell of pride at hearing these words, and almost forgot about the glaring inclusion of the Tusken in the video. If this was Tatooine, it was a Tatooine he could feel proud of, even if they said they were adversaries.

"Capitalists, feudalists, and crime bosses are cut from the same cloth. They only seek to enrich them by enslaving and exploiting the people. Well, we the people say enough is enough. Our siblings on Zygerria, Kessel, Ryloth, in the factories of Kuat and Corellia, in the mines of Minban and in the underlevels of Coruscant, are now our comrades. The impoverished worlds oppressed by leeches such as the InterGalactic Banking Clan or the Trade Federation are now also our comrades. The droids of the Separatist Army and the Clones of the Grand Army of the Republic are our comrades too: for what are they but sentients produced and programmed to be unpaid weapons of war, with conditioning chips in their brain like those that slavers use to track slaves? They are fighting for their own oblivion: their masters will cast them aside as soon as the task at hand is done. They will come to see the foolishness of this war: a game of masters pitting slave against slave for prestige and profit. We are neither interested in Chancellor Palpatine's imperialism nor in Count Dooku's ambitions, and we are disgusted by the war profiteering of their capitalist friends. We have struck a blow against them all. Attacking the seat of the Intergalactic Banking Clan on Muunlinist and exposing the backroom deals that both parties make among themselves while pretending to be mortal enemies."

So they were the same Ka'Lir from the heist video. There was no more doubt about that.

"To all worlds and all peoples and all the oppressed workers, peasants, and slaves, I say: you deserve a life better than this. You deserve security, happiness, tranquility, not war and oppression, but peace, land, and bread. This is something worth fighting for, not this sham war. And we will help you in this fight. No Jedi fighting for the Republic will come help you if you ask them, but we will. So do not listen to your masters, who only try to turn you against yourselves and make slave fight slave. Enough blood has been spilled of us enslaved brethren already, enough to fill trillions of the red flags we have chosen to symbolize our struggle. Let the red flag of SOLIRMO and ASRA be the rallying cry. If Tattooine freed itself, so can you."

The recording stopped there.

"Well?" Mace Windu asked Ahsoka. "Is it them?"

Ahsoka made a face. "Their mask distorted their voice, but the lightsaber, the hair, it matches. The air they have about them...that's more difficult but--." 

"So we have a working assumption the terrorist Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al is this mysterious Luke Skywalker, a rogue Jedi claiming to be related to our Jedi Skywalker." Windu cut off Ahsoka and turned to Anakin. "And what do you have to say in your defense, Jedi Skywalker?"

"Now hang on, Master Windu, Anakin just learned about this like the rest of us." Obi-Wan interjected. "This accusatory tone isn't fair towards him."

"Still, it's not convenient, Master Kenobi." Cerean Master Ki-Adi Mundi commented. "The Chosen One, the face of our Order, related to a terrorist? We're lucky the general public doesn't know about it." 

"I don't know about it." Anakin protested. "I hadn't even heard of this person before Ahsoka met them on Chelli Minor."

"So you say they are lying?" asked Master Stass Allie.

"They could be lying." mused Master Plo Koon. "After all, we have no sure way of knowing unless we interrogate them and do a blood test."

"And that's exactly what we want you to do, Skywalker." said Windu. "The Hutts want their head. This Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al has claimed they were a Jedi in conquering Tattooine from Jabba, and the Hutts cite this as a violation of the Senate's trade treaty with the Hutts."

"But this Luke Skywalker can't be a Jedi." protested Nautolan Master Kit Fisto. "There's no record of them in our archives." 

"The Hutts aren't going to accept bureaucratic distinctions, and the Senate is as angry as them."

"Hang on, you seriously think we should listen to the Hutts?!" Anakin protested. "They are gangsters and slavers. It's hypocritical enough that the Republic does business with them while professing themselves as anti-slavery--"

"The only way to get raw materials from the Outer Rim is through the Hutts. We Jedi are are the peacekeepers of the Republic, and thus we are beholden to the Senate--we must stick by the treaty even if we do not like it. We have our hands tied."

"Well this Luke Jedi didn't, it seems. And you are all calling them a terrorist and saying they 'conquered' Tatooine while they liberated it. They did our job, our duty as Jedi, and you have the gall to complain? Since when doing our duty as Jedi makes you a terrorist?"

"Simmer down, Jedi Skywalker." Windu ordered. "The Republic makes the rules. If we Jedi were to contravene or worse, boss around the Senate to make their laws suit our liking, we would be abusing our power. We would be no better than the Sith."

Anakin's hands balled into fists. "So I have to hunt down my kin because they freed slaves, huh?"

"Regrettably, yes."

"Then you forget that I was born a slave myself...and it was a Jedi who freed me." he remembered Master Qui-Gon bringing him before the Council when he was nine. He remembered Master's Qui-Gon's enthusiasm, and the Council's unanymous rejection. Even Obi-Wan, then Qui-Gon's Padawan, had agreed eith them, before sharply pivoting to his side after Qui-Gon died. Too late.

And now too late he was trying to mediate: "Even with the treaty, this Luke or Ka'Lir is now de facto in control of Tatooine with their movement. A diplomatic approach would be better to prevent further strife and harm from the Hutts befalling the planet..."

Anakin couldn't hear anymore. He left the chamber and didn't pook back, ignoring the protests of the Council. There was only one person who could give him a simpler answer that wasn't so backwards like those of the Council.

 

-line break-

 

Darth Sidious--known to the public at large as Sheev Palpatine, humble politician from Naboo who had ended up as Chancellor of the Galactic Republic--was fuming. The network of corruption he had built into the Senate to support the CIS had been unveiled and the money wiped out. And even worse, in the heist these terrorists had managed to grab hold of Republic bonds and were ransoming them. Without those bonds, the Republic's war machine would grind to a halt. The taxpayer had nothing to buy to finance it, which left the Chancellery with only two options: ask the Senate to raise taxes, or ask them to ask the InterGalactic Banking Clan for a loan. But the IGBC now had no money, except that of its regular, smalltime common consumers, who would revolt across the Galaxy if their savings were wiped out to bail out the Republic, so it was now the IGBC that was asking the Republic for a bailout. But how to raise taxes, then? The big industrial and financial groups had gotten low taxation and deregulation in exchange for financing his most trusted plants in the Senate. And taxing systems more would lead to them joining the CIS, which would weaken his position in the Republic, as would taxing common citizens more. And even if he rolled with that, trying to spin it into betrayal and a need for an increased war effort and cohesion, it still meant less money for the Republic and thus the war effort. It would mean a stronger CIS, but the Separatists weren't supposed to win the war, they weree supposed to lose! 

Shit. These dirty communists had left him with his hands tied.

Ah, if only he had some unlucky intern to fry.

But perhaps he had something better. He could sense the bright, lurching beacon of frustration that was the Force presence of Anakin Skywalker just outside his office. Fast as a ferret, Sidious plastered on Palapatine's best smile.

"Come in, Anakin, my boy!" he called, beaming to the young man as soon as he poked his head into the room. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, sir, if I'm not taking up too much of your time."

"Nonsense, nonsense my dear boy. My office is always open for you."

"I suppose you've heard about the recent video from the revolutionaries from Tattooine, sir. Claiming responsibility for the death of Jabba and the Muunlinist heist."

"Of course."

"The Jedi Council says we have to hunt down them and their supposed rogue Jedi leader, sir. I think that's stupid, sir. What those people did is written in the Galactic Constitution, sir. It's written in the Jedi Code."

Palpatine frowned. Anakin was behaving different than usual, his brashness was much more focused, and thus offered him very little angles use. "I see. Well, you are right, my boy. But the problem is that they did it by harming the Hutts, who are the only ones capable of supplying us with the necessary raw materials for the war effort from the Outer Rim. It leaves us in the Republic with our hands tied."

Anakin smiled. "Yes, sir, but that's what I've been thinking: what if...we offered Tatooine a Senate seat? It would force the Hutts to accept this independent Tattooine as partners instead of enemies, and grant us at least an important chunk of those imports."

"That's...a very well thought-out plan, Anakin. And I know that you've always wished to see Tatooine become part of the Republic, become finally free." Palpatine's smile grew softer and kinder, and he briefly put a reassuring, grandfatherly hand on top of Anakin's flesh one. "But these 'rebels' took Tatooine by force, publicly insulted the Republic, disparaged us, said that we are no better than the Separatists we fight in the name of freedom and democracy. They have harmed two of our vital partners, forcing us into such a dire logistical situation that as commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic I now have to choose between prolonging the war effort and risking default, or pausing it until a solution is found and risking the Separatists overtaking us. Public opinion views these people as terrorists. If I were to do as you ask--and believe me, if it were a time of peace, I would waste no time in doing it--I would be accused of giving in to terrorists. People would begin questioning the strength and solidity of the Republic. More and more people would begin trying to blackmail us like this, tens, hundreds of systems would defect to the Separatists, fearing our fall due to this weakness. Do you see why I cannot do what you ask, Anakin?"

Anakin's face fell. "Yes, sir." he said, looking down, and Palpatine patted his hand.

"Chin up, dear boy. There are alternatives. For example, if the Republic were to send its forces to Tatooine, convince the most agreeable people to install true democratic systems for the world, it would certainly be a peaceful solution that would show our true superiority in regards to the Sepatatists and these terrorists: that of democracy."

"I...I see, sir." Anakin said, frowning. "Yes...perhaps you're right." Anakin gingerly rose out of his chair, his face still dark. "Thanks for talking with me, sir. I'll leave you to your work."

"It's always a pleasure, my boy!" Palpatine waved at Anakin, and as soon the young man was out of the room, Sidious was back from behind the mask and utterly fuming. Anakin had come to him many times over the years to vent about his political frustrations, but this was the first time he'd come to him with proposals of his own. For now, it seemes that he'd managed to calm they boy's impetus, but this only delayed the problem. But what could have caused this development?

Thousands of light-years away, Luke Skywalker was laughing their ass off.

 

Notes:

Yes, Luke's freedom fighting organization is acronymized SOLIRMO, while ASRA is a reference to the Rebel Alliance. Chapter 3 is going to delve into their foundations and Luke's backstory, and will come out in two parts since it's getting more massive by the day. However, this way I'll be able to get chapters to come out weekly. I hope you liked this chapter :3, and I'll leave a teaser for the next one:

One year prior, Korian Maas was the proverbial self-styled nobody. He took odd jobs as a slicer wherever his drifting took him, working for the smallest crooks, gangsters and bounty hunters, careful to earn a reputation as a passable guy--nobody special, somebody that would do and nothing more than that. But at a certain point, around the time he was twenty-six, he started getting bored.
At first, he felt silly. A mid-life crisis at twenty-six? A mid-twenties life crisis? Ridiculous. Yet the feeling was there. He didn't know what to with himself. He'd been born in an orphanage on Coruscant, lucked into an ability with computers, and was able to hack into all those big tech companies that refused to hire from Coruscant's lower class if he ever wanted his revenge. But then what? Get the pigs on his back? Underground work was easy to come by, and brought you no trouble if you kept yourself small enough. For a time, he'd found peace in invisibility, even convinced himself that it was his own choice. And he'd kept doing it even as he realized he'd wasted years in it. He'd snooped around various movements and collectives for a time--busy, industrial and financial planets like Corellia, Kuat or Coruscant were full of those--but when the war broke out and the Clone Army basically invited itself to every Republic planet, he'd thought, once again: And then what? Get the pigs on your back? Forget it, Korian Maas.
So he decided to get as far away from that noise as possible. Wait out the war. It was too dangerous to try and make his life more interesting in the middle of a civil war.
And so he ended up on Tattooine. Barely-populated, hot-as-kark-and-even-drier Tattooine. He quickly foumd out that that it hadn't been a smart choice. Basically every operation there was under control of Jabba. Thwre was no possibility to 'stay small'. And half the population was enslaved. He'd seen slaves before, but to this level? It made his blood boil. It was, possibly, the shittiest planet he'd ever been on. And he couldn't do anything about it except drink and fume.
And so, on his second evening there, he was walking back to his motel room from the cantina, when they saw the Jedi. A blond, slender Human being, an inch or two shorter than he was, silently skulking around the alleyways of Mos Eisley. Jedi usually wore a uniform of tan robes, while this one a black jumpsuit and simple tunic. But they had the tell-tale metal cylinder attached to their belt, alright, and Korian could feel the air bristling with energy as he looked at them.
Just what the Corellian Nine Hells was a Jedi doing on Tattooine, moving about in the night like a common thief? Korian decided to follow them, taking care to cling to the shadows as best as they could. It was hard: every time they stepped into a darker part of alley, be it an alcove, the shadow of a vaporator or trash compactor, the Jedi seemed to melt into the darkness. Not so adept was another person perhaps not even forty meters away, a Givin whose every turn Jedi seemed to mirror.
Aha. So the Jedi was trailing someone. And he was trailing the Jedi--a mistery, danger? The prospect seemed to stir something inside of him. Perhaps Tattooine wasn't as boring as he'd thought.
He couldn't get further with his train of thought because the very next moment the Jedi body-slammed him into the nearest wall.
"Why the Force are you following me?" the Jedi asked, those blue eyes burning like flaming ice between those blond bangs and ooooh damn this was the worst possible moment to get aroused--
Korian Maas couldn't help but smile even through his agitation. "I'm just a sucker for a pretty face?"

Chapter 3: Story of Ka'Lir (Part One)

Summary:

In this chapter, we delve into Luke's backstory, and into who and what "Ka'lir" really is. It is going to be a mini story arc. I originally thought it would just be a two-parter, but it is probably going to be at least a trilogy. I hope you enjoy it :3

Chapter Three: Story of Ka'Lir (Part One)

 

21 BBY, hyperspace between Chelli Minor and Tatooine, the Millennium Falcon

 

Deep into hyperspace, Luke Skywalker walked theough the bowels of a stolen freighter that in another timeline had been all too familiar to them, but was still home all the same, if now in a different way. The corridors were wider, the paneling hid far less modifications, but they could still make Han proud.

Han. Leia. Chewie. Lando.

Their heart constricted as they remembered their faces, those faces they'd never see again. They were a prisoner of this time, their only justice whichever they could carve out in changing this Force-forsaken timeline into one in whih Sidious didn't win.

Your vengeance will be a better world, they thought as they entered the lounge area. A better Galaxy. 

"The ship is in autopilot. We should be on Tatooine in a day or two." the beautiful, soft lilt of them copilot's accent welcomed their as they gave a big yawn and then let themselves slump into the sofa, leaning against him.

"Wizard."

"You look like shit." the green-skinned Togruta laughed.

"Hello to you too, Kori." Luke grunted, and let their head slide into's Kori's lap. Kori ran a hand through their hair, playfully messing it up.

"It's never boring with you, is it? One day you make me vanish billions of credits from the black funds of the Intergalactic Banking Clan, the next you make me pilot a ship into a volcano."

"Well, Korian Maas, you knew the risks when you met me."

"Sure. Our first date was shooting up half of Mos Eisley trying not to get killed by Hutt lackeys. Anyone who's been more than five minutes on Tattooine can sympathize. But now you go and antagonize both Count Dooku himself and the Jedi by yourself? That's new levels of crazy."

"Can't say you're wrong." said Luke, as Kori traced the lines of the scars on their chest.

"I do very much approve the new look. Makes you look bigger, God knows you need it, shortstack."

"Ha-ha. You're only two inches taller than me, so don't push it. I had to give my shirt to a Sith wannabe 'cos she got her top torn."

"You shitting me?"

"In space, there are no bras."

Kori rolled his eyes. "I know the answer, but sometimes I wonder if you've ever been with a woman, Lucas."

"Bite me."

"With pleasure. We have enough time before we get back to your dustball, as I told you."

Luke gave him a soft kiss. "Isn't it your dustball too, now?"

"Yeah," Korian said. "And I would never have imagined it, a year ago."

 

-line break-

 

One year prior, Korian Maas was the proverbial self-styled nobody. He took odd jobs as a slicer wherever his drifting took him, working for the smallest crooks, gangsters and bounty hunters, careful to earn a reputation as a passable guy--nobody special, somebody that would do and nothing more than that. But at a certain point, around the time he was twenty-six, he started getting bored.

At first, he felt silly. A mid-life crisis at twenty-six? A mid-twenties life crisis? Ridiculous. Yet the feeling was there. He didn't know what to with himself. He'd been born in an orphanage on Coruscant, lucked into an ability with computers, and was able to hack into all those big tech companies that refused to hire from Coruscant's lower class if he ever wanted his revenge. But then what? Get the pigs on his back? Underground work was easy to come by, and brought you no trouble if you kept yourself small enough. For a time, he'd found peace in invisibility, even convinced himself that it was his own choice. And he'd kept doing it even as he realized he'd wasted years in it. He'd snooped around various movements and collectives for a time--busy, industrial and financial planets like Corellia, Kuat or Coruscant were full of those--but when the war broke out and the Clone Army basically invited itself to every Republic planet, he'd thought, once again: And then what? Get the pigs on your back? Forget it, Korian Maas.

So he decided to get as far away from that noise as possible. Wait out the war. It was too dangerous to try and make his life more interesting in the middle of a civil war.

And so he ended up on Tattooine. Barely-populated, hot-as-kark-and-even-drier Tattooine. He quickly foumd out that that it hadn't been a smart choice. Basically every operation there was under control of Jabba. There was no possibility to 'stay small'. And half the population was enslaved. He'd seen slaves before, but to this level? It made his blood boil. It was, possibly, the shittiest planet he'd ever been on. And he couldn't do anything about it except drink and fume.

And so, on his second evening there, he was walking back to his motel room from the cantina, when they saw the Jedi. A blond, slender Human being, an inch or two shorter than he was, silently skulking around the alleyways of Mos Eisley. Jedi usually wore a uniform of tan robes, while this one a black suit and simple tunic. But they had the tell-tale metal cylinder attached to their belt, alright, and Korian could feel the air bristling with energy as he looked at them.

Just what the Corellian Nine Hells was a Jedi doing on Tattooine, moving about in the night like a common thief? Korian decided to follow them, taking care to cling to the shadows as best as they could. It was hard: every time they stepped into a darker part of alley, be it an alcove, the shadow of a vaporator or trash compactor, the Jedi seemed to melt into the darkness. Not so adept was another person perhaps not even forty meters away, a Givin whose every turn Jedi seemed to mirror.

Aha. So the Jedi was trailing someone. And he was trailing the Jedi--a mistery, danger? The prospect seemed to stir something inside of him. Perhaps Tattooine wasn't as boring as he'd thought.

He couldn't get further with his train of thought because the very next moment the Jedi body-slammed him into the nearest wall.

"Why the Force are you following me?" the Jedi asked, those blue eyes burning like flaming ice between those blond-and-gray bangs and ooooh damn this was the worst possible moment to get aroused--

Korian Maas couldn't help but smile even through his agitation. "I'm just a sucker for a pretty face?"

The Jedi's scowl faltered, and broke into laughter as they let him go. Korian readjusted his clothes and stared at the still-laughing Jedi as he readjusted his jacket.

"Um..."

"Sorry, sorry. It's just something I would have said when I was younger." the Jedi wiped a tear from their eye, and Korian studied them further: their outfit was battered, their skin seemed to have a few half-healed burn. And their hair was indeed blond, but it seemed to have acquired gray streaks as if by shock or stress. "Oooh, you don't know the shit day I've had. I really needed to laugh...thanks."

"You're...welcome?" Korian said, puzzled. "Though in sincerity, I admit I was...curious. You never see Jedi on Tatooine."

"It's my homeworld." the Jedi shrugged.

"So you're just trusting what I'm telling you?"

"I don't sense any ill intent from you. If you're a liar, you're a very good one. But even if you were hiding it very, very welll...you'd have no chance against me."

"Hey, I'm just a slicer. I doubt I'd have any chance even against the Givin you're following."

"Well, at least you're a good observer." the Jedi turned, and went back to following the Rodian. "Smart enough to downplay your strength...but still dumb enough to try and follow a Jedi."

Korian followed him, unashamed. "And you're still a Jedi from Tatooine. Which is weirder?"

A snort came from the Jedi. "I actually haven't been here in a while. I admit, I didn't plan to come here, but I found out I'd missed the place."

"Really? It's possible to miss this shithole?"

The Human looked away for a moment, their eyes light-years away and empty of the sincere smile they'd had just a few moments before. "I've seen...worse. And...this place is a part of me." they said.

Korian grunted. "It's the worst place I've been to."

"I could sense those thoughts emanating from you even before you started following me." the Jedi chuckled. "But I find Coruscant's worse. At least, the gangsters here are honest about it."

"You think a slaver who admits that they are such is better than a slavers who pretends they aren't?"

"Of course not. I was born of a slave."

Korian felt himself blush. "Sorry." he said, and the Jedi shrugged.

"You didn't know. What I mean is that if a slaver admits they are such, it is easier for their slave to understand that they are a slave. That there is a power imbalance, and that it is wrong. And thus, it is easier for the slave to understand that they have to fight that wrong. That they deserve freedom, and must fight to obtain it. But if the enslavement occurs not through force, shock collars, or tracking chips, but through wage labour, theft of labour and value and time, unequal treatment, trade deals, commercial subjugation, all under the pretense of the rule of law, of opportunity and challenge instead of rights and needs, inequality of starting conditions....do you see where I'm going?"

"The slave will never understand they are in chains, yeah. I know the deal. I grew up in the lower levels of Coruscant. But it's also harder to fight back when you've got tracking chips inside you that can make you explode." Korian tried to match the Jedi's pace, but felt himself lag behind--just how fast this Human could walk? Was it just really that he was unused to Tattooine's freakish heat? "Funny thing, too. The news blare about there's ten thousand Jedi fighting on the frontlines, probably twice or thrice as more in your shiny Temple--but I've never seen you show your ass in the lower levels of Coruscant or slavery capitals like here to help instead of pontificate or arrest some gangsters whose disappearance didn't change the equation in any way whatsoever." he ranted at the Jedi, marching up to them as they stopped in their tracks...and then the Jedi raised a hand to him to signal he should stop, too.

The Jedi turned...and then, they extended a gloved hand to Korian. "And you're right. But since I'm back here, I intend precisely to do something about that. My name is Luke Skywalker."

Korian was thrown for a loop. He gingerly accepted the hand. "Korian Maas. You related to the propaganda boy? Hero With No Fear Anakin Skywalker? Destroying battle stations at age nine?"

A bizzarre look seemed to cross Skywalker's featuresz and then they chuckled. "Yeah, but it's complicated. I didn't find out until I was an adult--Skywalker's a pretty common name for slaves and new freeborns. Junior..." a deep sigh. "...He used to say he'd come back here and free the slaves."

"Seems to be doing a pretty shitty job of that."

"Just being in this place makes you angry, huh?" Skywalker smiled again. "Why don't you help me?"

"...Are you serious?" Korian wanted to dismiss them--and yet a tiny voice at the back of his mind wanted to scream YES OF COURSE at them. "You're a kriffin' space wizard. What do you need a slicer like me for?"

"Let me show you."

It was then Korian realized that the Givin they'd been trailing was not in front of them anymore. At some point, Skywalker had taken a wrong turn. Or...

The Givin stopped in his tracks facing them, his house keys in his left hand, not five meters away from them in the little alley, and Korian realized that he and Skywalker were standing right in front of his house door. The Givin had a toolbox in his other hand, and he was shaking like crazy.

"Please calm down." Skywalker said, taking care to show the lightsaber at their hip but not take up. "I've followed you and I know you're just a techinician. You check this settlement's array for the Hutts. You change up the algorithm to monitor and access the tracking chips and the explosives planted in them every time routine calls for, so as to deter slicers. You provide the codes to unlock physical access of the relay apparatus. It's not your fault. This is a very poor planet and there's a war going on. I know you need the money to survive and I can sense the shame you feel at only being able to earn it this way."

"Are...are you gonna punish me?" the Givin asked, his voice trembling with fear.

"I'm not. I just want those codes, and I'll let you go along with your life undisturbed."

"Jabba will kill me."

"Well lucky you, I'm gonna kill him." Skywalker flashed the Givin a cocky smile. "The Hutt's chokehold on this planet is going to end soon. You have my word as a Jedi."

Still trembling like a leaf, the Givin began rattling off a series of numbers and characters, only stopping to stammer that it was all he knew and that please could the nice Jedi let him go home? Please? He didn't want to die.

Skywalker let him go with a smile, but when they turned back to Korian, their face was a blank. "Please tell me you caught any of that."

Korian facepalmed. "You're a kriffin' space wizard and you didn't even think to write that shit down?"

"I forgot my flimsipad, alright?"

"Godsdamn it, Luke Skywalker, you're a really bad Jedi." Korian sighed. "But yes, I caught it. I'm not a slicer for nothing, I can remember twenty-digit codes."

"Neat."

"Look, I'll write it up for you, I sure got some flimsi on me--"

"Wait, Korian. You said it yourself, you're a slicer." Skywalker stopped him, and Korian frowned.

"Yeah, and?"

"You're right, freeing slaves and taking down slavers is supposed to be a Jedi's job. But destroying an algorithm like the one threatening those slave's lives? Plus, Jabba's got credits that the freed slaves will need. Taking care of all of that...that's the job for a slicer."

Korian laughed. "You're crazy, Luke Skywalker." But then he smiled, and added: "Your place or mine?"

 

-line break-

 

They had chosen to go to Korian's place, that small motel room in Mos Eisley, and after Korian went for a kiss, Luke had introduced the Togruta to the wonders of Force-enhanced sex.

"Gods," Korian laughed as the two rolled back onto the bed, matted with sweat and utterly spent and glowing from the orgasms, "I'm never going back to normal sex."

"I aim to impress." Luke laughed, and Korian took his hand. Luke looked at him.

"I could have been a gangster wanting to kill you, ya know. And yet you trusted me and had sex with me." Korian said, looking them in the eye. "Thanks for the trust." he added, and then blushed. He'd met this strange Jedi only a few hours ago. Once at the motel, Skywalker had produced a datapad and let him wipe Jabba's accounts clean, and then blinked in astonishment when it had taken Korian barely two hours to do it, saying they could have kissed him. Korian had taken them at their word and took the initiative. He was amazed at the level of intimacy they'd reached in just a short time.

But then Luke's face clouded, and they sat up, calling their lightsaber and blaster to their hands with the Force.

"Someone's coming." they said, giving their blaster to Korian. "I don't sense any ill intent, but they're scared."

"Right." Korian took the blaster, and groaned as he sat up. "Gods, I'm sore."

Luke smirked. "Well then I'll let you top next time."

Korian laughed. "After what you showed me you can do tonight, why would I ever wanna top again--"

"Shhh. They're here." Luke let the door slide open with the Force, sliding it shut again after a dark-skinned, black-haired Human youth stepped in. "Hi." Luke said, and ignited their lightsaber. Korian fought back a smile--it was green, just like his skin.

"Please don't hurt me, I come in peace." the youth said, and then blushed. "Er...could you please put some clothes on?"

"Why, do we got something ya never seen before?" Korian drawled, blaster in hand and finger close to the trigger, and the youth made a face.

"Are you guys gay?"

"Well, I don't actually identify as a "guy". Nor even a "gal"." Luke chuckled. "I barely identify as anything, but sometimes I identify as a problem."

"And most Togrutas are bisexual." Korian added. "Tends to happen, when the females of your species have a reproductive and sexual apparatus that is external and inflatable just like the males--a vaginal phallus, if you wanna put it in layman's terms--making both them and the males (and whatever other gender identities may people choose) naturally predisposed towards ricreative anal sex--"

"I don't wanna hear about that." the youth turned beet red. "I'm a guy. I'm straight."

"You know, straight people can bee into pegging, too."

"I don't care and it's not the point." the youth seethed. "Look, I'm a slave, my name's Kitster Banai, I clean around and I hear things around, and a Skywalker Jedi saying he's related to Anakin Skywalker and how he wants to turn this place upside down...well, people are coming here to kill ya."

"And you decided to tell us this why?..."

Kitster looked at Luke. "You said you're related to Anakin. I was a friend of his while we were slaves, until the Jedi came, freed him, and took him away. We thought it meant something--Jedi finally coming here and fighting slavery--but none of them ever came back. Until now, it seems."

Despite Luke's smile, Korian could perceive the older being turning serious. "Well. We're gonna do something about that." they deactivated their lightsaber and called theirs and Korian's clothes to them. "Let's get dressed, Kori."

Korian put on his pants without losing the blaster. "We can trust him?"

"Yeah. I can feel about five people entering the motel--there are ten more outside."

"That's bad odds."

"Right." said Luke, dressing themselves with incredible speed. "For them." Luke reached towards Kitster with their hand, eyes closed, and then Kitster seemed to stumble on himself.

"W-what did you do?" he said, clutching at his chest.

"Deactivated the tracking chip and the bomb inside you with the Force." said Luke, handing him their blaster as Korian put on his jacket and shirt and took back his own gun. Korian watched their whole demeanor transform in a stern, almost stone mask as they talked to Kitster, reciting the practiced, istinctive drill of the hardened soldier. "Aim for the center of mass. Or the just the general area of the trunk if it's easier. Keep your eyes always open and keep the blaster in both hands--"

"Wait, if you can do that, why don't you do that for all the other slaves at the same time--"

"Because it would take time which is a luxury which we're already out of." Luke said without missing a beat, looking at Kitster dead in the eyes. Their tone was calm, but their eyes were just pure steel. "First we survive, then we get supplies for the army it will take us to get rid of the Hutts, then we free everyone. Alright?"

"Alright." Kitster nodded in embarassment.

"Good. Now try not to shoot at me or Korian, alright? And remember to take always cover behind the biggest, sturdiest thing you can find."

Another nod, former this time. "Alright."

"Good man." Luke patted him on the shoulder, and walked to the door with his glowing green blade out. The door slid open, revealing five mercs with guns in hand. They paused at the sight of Luke's weapon. "Gentlebeings. Our quarrel is not with you but with Jabba. If you can step uside until we resolve it, I can promise I won't harm you."

"Jabba doesn't wanna kill you either." the merc leader said, measuring his words. "Killing a Jedi is bad for doing business for the Republic. And he can foot them the bill for the credits you stole, if you do not return them. He just wants you off-planet ASAP."

"Too bad. I want him dead."

"Look, just get off this rock already--" the merc tried to grab Luke by the arm, but Luke grabbed his wrist with his right hand and squeezed so hard that the man fell to his knees with an agonized scream and dropped his blaster. The other four raised their blasters to fire at him--but before they could indeed fire, there was a green flash and they all fell over themselves dead to the floor, an angry, burning slash mark on their chests.

"Wha--but you didn't even move!" the merc leader protested, and Luke shoved him into his dead companions. The tip of the emerald green blade moved, and stepped barely an inch away from the merc's neck. 

"I was just too fast for you to see me." said Luke, their tone dead flat. "Tell Jabba I'm no Jedi. Tell him that Ka'Lir the Sky-Walker has returned to claim their people, and that his credits were only the start. Jedi, Republic, Hutts--I'm here to destroy it all, the whole rotten system."

"But he'll kill me--"

"And I can do so much worse. Now go."

The merc ran away, nursing his broken wrist. Luke stepped out of the corridor, Kitster and Korian behind him. Kitster gave him a suspicious look. "Ka'Lir. You are really Tatooinian." he said, his tone halfway between awe and skepticism. "But you didn't say all that to me. You said you were a Jedi."

"If Jabba foots the bill to the Jedi it will cause a diplomatic incident and we'll get clones all over the place coming to his aid. Do you want that?"

"No."

"Good. Listen, I've been a Jedi, once. I still want to be a Jedi like they were a long time ago, fighting slavery, exploitation, oppression. If the Jedi of this time, those who don't do that, who aren't real Jedi. This planet is my home--and I won't have those morons up our ass unless they want to help, or learn." Luke said. There was a grimness in their tone, one that made Korian feel on edge. Luke had been serious, that evening, alright. He'd have to ask the Jedi what had happened to make them feel and speak this way, if the two of them made it out alive of the motel. 

"Luke." he tapped the Human on the shoulder. "The man you ley go probably went to alert those other ten guys." Korian said, and then nudged to the four guys that were dead in the middle of the corridor. "Do you really need us?" 

"Yeah. We're gonna have to walk all the way to the slave signal relay apparatus in the middle of the town and bust it up. And you're crucial to that."

"You guys wanna do what?" a yellow-skinned Duros poked her head out of the adjacent room.

"You heard us." Luke beamed her a megawatt smile, their earlier seriousness gone in seconds. "Wanna help us?"

"Hells yah. Sanni Charith is always down to burn some shit down." sais the Duros, taking out a blaster. "'Specially if it's Hutt's shit."

"Good." nodded Luke. "Get some friends and follow us."

They came down into the motel lobby just as Jabba's goons, Gamorrean axemen and more mercenaries, came into it.

"Jedi," one of them said as he saw Luke with their shining green blade, deflecting the shots the other mercenaries were firing at Luke's companions. One of the Gamorreans and two mercs then went down, downed by Sanni and her couple of newly-joined spacer friends.

"Damn right." Luke said, and pulled all the survivor's weapons out of their hands with the Force. "Now run away."

The survivors didn't need to be told twice. They ran out, screaming for their life, and Luke deactivated their lightsaber.

"Gods, I'll be damned." one of the spacers said. "So you're really a Jedi, huh? Space wizard with a proper laser sword and all that. Yet you look just like one of us."

"You grow up on Tatooine, it sticks on you." Luke shrugged, then smiled. "Like sand."

Korian made a face at the joke. "More to the matter," he said, "Somebody oughta have told 'em where we were staying."

Luke blinked. "Yes, you're right."

"I think I know who that is," said Kitster, striding over to the lobby's reception desk and pulling out a Rodian hiding behind it. "Piece of bantha-shit sleemo owning this place." Kitster said, holiding the frightened Rodian by the neck as he dug his blaster into the Rodian's temple. "Let's kill her and be done with."

"Whoah man, calm down-" Korian tried to step in, but Kitster waved him away.

"She employs slaves. She's just like the rest of them."

"Has she ever bought or sold any, though?" asked Luke, and Kitster frowned.

"I-I haven't, I swear." the motel owner whimpered. "Please, Master Jedi, I've only ever done what I could t-to survive."

"Liar--"

"No, she's telling the truth, I can sense it." Luke cut Kitster off. "Put the gun down, Kitster. We're not here to kill half this rock. Most of Tattooine's business employ slaves--"

"You think I don't know?" Kitster snapped. "My master loans me to her!"

"I promise you, we will have sharp words with your master, just like with every other one on this planet. But we're not here to kill everyone." Luke said, looking Kitster right in the eye. "Those who were not slavers but merely employed slaves will receive judgment from freedbeings. But our present mission is to free all slaves, so first we do that and then we think about the judgment."

Kitster's yes flicked between the Rodian and Luke, and then his grip relaxed. He let the motel owner go. "Fine." he said, and stared hard into Luke's eyes. "You said you are Ka'Lir. We'll see if you really have their wisdom or if it's all just a farce." he added, and Luke just smiled.

"Alright. Let's go then."

They rushed out through the backdoor, moving silently and swiftly from alley to alley towards rhe mayor's office, where the relay sat. There, a large contingent of Jabba's mercenaries swarmed about, making rounds in front of the entrance and on the roof.

"Those sleemos you let go must have alerted Jabba and got reinforcements." whispered Kitster as the group pressed behind the bulky heat dispersal systems which cluttered up the alleys between one home and the next.

"Unlikely." countered Korian. "I see some of them among these goons, but it's been barely a hour. I've calculated it would take, even with the fastest speeder, half the night if not more to reach Jabba's palace."

"Then his majestly the Daimyo is probably getting the mayor outta here." said Sanni. "And possibly retrieving something else."

"Only one way to know for sure." said Luke, and jumped three stories up all the way to the top of the building. The two guards there barely had time to notice the Jedi before they made a motion with their hands and the guards froze, almost in shock.

"W-what the Hells is happening?" gaped Kitster.

"Jedi magic." said Sanni. "Though how are we supposed to follow them?"

As if hearing their whispering from all the way up there, Luke waved their hands again...and then, softly and lightly as feathers, their five accomplishes started levitating. Kitster made a noise of surprise, but one of Sanni's friends--a Devaronian man with a scar over his right eye--was quick to put a hand over his mouth not to make him shout or worse. "Jedi magic," he repeated, whispering, "Fly enough smuggling ships in Republic territory and you get used to them pulling these kinds of stunts."

Korian himself was no stranger to that. But as they landed on the roof, what he was more interested in was that Luke was making them levitate up to the third floor right on the balcony's blind spot on the corner, away from the door-windows which led in. This Jedi kept surprising him--they thought like some kind of covert stuff op.

Once on the balcony, they split up with hand signals, Korian and Luke on one door and the others on the other door, and kicked them in, blasting the guards before they could react. The mayor, a middle-aged Ithorian, screamed in fear, tripped over himself, and fell over what he was holding--an enormous bag filled with gold bricks and documents, taken out of the nearby, open safe.

"Please spare me, I'm just the mayor--" he began, but Luke waved their hand and he fell asleep before he could finish their sentence.

"Gods, he was hoarding a fortune in that safe." one of Sanni's companions breathed, sizing up the bag.

"Documents are probably more important, keep them safe. Korian, the terminal." said Luke, jumping over the table and rushing to the door.

"On it--fuck!" the first blast that ripped through the door narrowly missed Korian's left montral, and he fell over himself behind the table. He breathed hard, realized he hadn't been hit, then slowly crawled to the terminal.

Twenty-digit kriffin' alphanumerical codes. But he got it right, and the terminal started flashing him data on each and every slave in town, but Korian pushed them--and his disgust--away and took out a small, cylindrical key from his breast pocket. He jabbed it into the closest port, and the device fed the worm and the anesthetic to the machine. Korian just had to use the terminal interface to do the remaining steps, grant articulation access to the worm, and the relay's connection with the chips was cut. The relay could broadcast no signal to and from any detonator in the whole town radius. But the worm wasn't limited to that. Korian wrote a few extra lines into it through the terminal, and little by little it spread from slave to slave, turning off each bomb's capability to receive a signal. And the masterstroke? A line that made the program erase itself, and fry the terminal.

"Fuck yeah!" shouted Korian, and whooped with joy. He turned to Luke, eager to tell them all about it--but the room was empty, save for himself and the corpses of Jabba's goons.

Gingerly he walked to the stairs, finding only a trail of more corpses and kitschy broken furnitures as he went. All bodies had scorch marks from blaster bolts; only a couple seemed to be more like those of a lightsaber. He could hear muffled noises from the floor below him. Surely Luke was there.

He couln't get three feet downstairs that a blaster bolt singed his montral.

"Dank farrik!" he cursed, pain shooting through him, and blindly unloaded his blaster in the direction of the shot. His opponent, a top-heavy Acqualish, tood motionless and full of smoking holes for a moment, as if the retaliation had taken them by surprise. Then they dropped dead, crashing through a caf table in a could of splinters. His fall only freed up his line of sight, unveiling the carnage that reigned in the room. His team blasted suppressing fire from behind cover positions of upturned couches, while Luke deflected blaster bolts back at the enemy, itself behind similar cover positions.

"Kori!" they shouted, flashing him a smile. "So glad to see you, honey."

Korian flushed, swore, and crawled to Luke's position. "It's done. The relay's been wiped, and the chips are useless."

"Perfect. We can move to the bottom floor then." with a wave of Luke's hand, the couches and sofas Jabba's goons were using as cover flew against the wall behind them, knocking out the henchmen.

"Well, that's certainly a way to do it." was Sanni's flat comment as they all got up and dusted themselves off. "You know, pulling the 'Fuck off I win' card."

"As long as it lets me keep all of us alive and unharmed." Luke shrugged, and walked to the beginning of the stairs. "I saw them bring all the slaves to the bottom floor, we need--"

And then Luke Skywalker got shot in the face from downstairs.

"Luke!" Korian rushed to them, catching their body as they fell backwards. He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be that simple. It couldn't--

"Ow." that familiar voice said, and Korian looked down in disbelief. Luke Skywaker was still alive and still had their whole face, only with some minor burns and a bloody nose and lip. "Only had a karkin' split-second ro dissipate the shot with the Force..."

"Is there anything that can kill you?... " Korian asked in disbelief as Luke got up.

"I don't intend to find out." Luke unclipped their belt, lightsaber and blaster and all, and handed it to him. "There. It won't take more than a minute."

"We have hosssstagessss." a reptilian voice came from below. "Try to fight and we will ssssssslaughter them before ssssssssslaughtering you. In ssssssshort...sssssssurrender."

"Well, I'm coming down unarmed." Luke called. "And you better be faster on the draw this time."

If the Trandoshan was surprised at Luke's persistence in living, he didn't say anything. Luke walked downstairs, and Korian and the others took cover as best as they could by bringing a table to the first steps. The room below was barely less of a mess than those above. The mayor's waiting room had been cleared to house all the remaining Jabba henchmen and the slaves they had taken hostages, cleaners, servers, pleasure slaves. All of them, a mass of Humans, Zeltrons, Rodians and Twi'Leks and other species looked between the guns of their slavers and the battered savior in a longcloak that had walked below the stairs.

"It sssssseemssssssss you are very hard to kill." the Trandoshan heading the slavers chuckled. "But no matter. Bosssssssk lovesssss ssssseeing a good ssssstruggle from hisssssss prey asssss much assssss any Trandossssssshan."

Luke said nothing, and merely glowered at Bossk.

"Not a talker, eh? What a pity." Bossk raised his gun, and all the rest of Jabba's henchmen followed suit. "If you have any lasssst wordssss..."

"Yeah." Luke said, and looked at the slaves. Then they spoke again, in a language Korian had necer heard: "Durr'mul cha, yka ros."

At those words, all the slaves threw themselves on the floor, and all the slavers fired upon Luke--but no shot reached the Jedi. All the slavers' arms were wrenched by the Force to aim at their nearest friend's head, and it was over in a short, bloody moment. Bossk gaped as his fellow criminals crumpled dead to the floor, and Luke took that brief distraction to close the distance between them and kick the Trandoshan's blaster out of his hands. Bossk snarled and slashed at Luke with his claws, but Luke ducked, spun on the floor, and kicked the Trandoshan in the stomach. Before Bossk could get up, the Jedi had called their lightsaber back to their hands, reactivated it, and pointed it straight at the Trandoshan's throat. "The judgement of Ka'Lir the Sky-Walker falls upon you." Luke said, glaring at the Trandoshan. "But what are the slaves going to say? Will you appeal to them, hunter?"

"Fuck no!" cried a Twi'Lek in pleasure attire as her and the other slaves slowly got up from the floor. "The mayor let the bastard hunt us for sport." she said, and took off her headgear--her lekku was heavily scarred, and half of the left one was missing. "He liked to take pieces of us."

"If you're really Ka'Lir," said a dark-skinned elderly Human woman in cleaner's attire, missing an arm. "You'd kill him."

"Very well, hunter. You heard their words." Luke told Bossk. "What are your last words?"

"No more than three." fast as lightning, Bossk reached for his belt. "I call bullsssshit." he raised his hand towards Luke, the bright, shiny silver of a thermal detonator flashing red with the countdown. Luke swore, went to move with their lighsaber, but someone else was faster. A blaster bolt knocked the detonator from the Trandoshan's hand, and Luke shoved it out of the closest window with the Force, where it exploded harmlessly in the street. Bossk snarled in pain and frustration, took out his knife and threw all six feet and a half of himself against Luke, but the small Jedi only slashed at him with a single, clean stroke, and Bossk stopped dead in his track, a look of shock on his features.

'No', his lips tried to say, but he had no vocal cords left to speak of. His head and body crumpled separately to the floor, and the light went out of his eyes. Bossk was dead. And in the doorway, the Givin Luke and Korian had encountered that evening stood with shaky hands and a still-smoking blaster, sweatingnand stuttering.

"I-I told them about you. I-I thought they'd f-forgive m-me for t-teling you about the c-codes." the Givin said, and the blaster fell from his grasp and cluttered to his feet; he raised his hands: they were heavily bandaged, and blood was seeping through the gauze. "T-they s-s-still punished me. And p-p-perhaps I d-deserve punishment. I kept the s-signal r-relay for the bombs f-fixed and online. I-I..."

"And yet you saved us all, not mere moments ago." Luke told him. "What's your name?"

"G-Garon. G-Garon Tensil."

"Garon gave us the codes to free you from the bombs without need of threats." Luke turned the slaves. "Then he betrayed us, and even if he was hurt for his double betrayal, he came here and helped us again. Is it punishment he deserves."

The slaves looked at themselves, and spoke amongst themselves in a tongue Korian couldn't understand, but seemed identical to that of the strange word Luke had said to them earlier. "He's been punished enough." a young Zeltros shrugged, the youngest of the lot, barely an adult and sporting already a few scars. The elderly woman from before nodded and added: "He saw the damage he caused. He suffered. He tried to help. He's not a monster like the hunter."

The Givin crumpled to the ground in a sitting position, raising his broken hands to cover his face as he cried.

"I think we all need some medical help." Luke sighed. "But it's alright. At least here in Mos Eisley, you're all free. We'll deal with taking out your chips as soon as we're all rested enough." they said, and then they added some more talk in that strange tongue from before. The slaves eyed them warily, then little by little they all walked towards him, stepping over the splinters, broken glass and dead bodies to go touch them.

"Are you really Ka'Lir?" whispered the mutilated Twi'Lek girl, her fingers brushing Luke's battered face. Luke made a shy smile, and took their cloak off their back.

"I am." they said, offering the cloak to the girl. "My name is Luke Skywalker. I'm a Jedi, I come from slaves, and this is my homeworld. I'm here to free all of you and your families, wherever they may be in the Galaxy." They kneeled, bowing their head, and the girl took the longcloak with watery eyes. Then all the freed slaves, starting with the old Human woman, knelt down and put their arms around Luke.

"Na'bari wa gado, Ka'Lir. Na'bari wa gado, Ni'aversa'al. Na'bari wa gado, wesho."

They spoke that tongue again, the slaves' tongue, rationalized Korian, and the Togruta could swear Luke was shaking. No, kark that. They were downright sobbing When they all rose again, the Jedi's face was wet with tears.

"Luke." Korian walked down the stairs, stumbling over the mess, and went to hug the Human as they detached from the people they'd just freed. Luke turned to look at him with the shakiest smile, and then buried their face in Korian's shirt as they hugged. "You scared me, you crazy Jedi."

Luke gave a wet chuckle, still half a sob. "I couldn't die with the goal so near in front of me, could I? I'd have been...a really bad Jedi."

Korian gave a shaky laugh himself. "Don't you quote me like that. Isn't it too early for in-jokes in this...this..." Korian flushed red. "Um, what are we? Is this a relationship? I mean, I don't wanna ruin your moment, these are your people and all and I know I had very little to do in all of this and..."

"Shut up." Luke said, and put a finger on his lips as they took their face out of his chest without breaking the hug. "I punched the bad guys, that's what I'm good at. But you? The whole plan hinged on the success of your part, and you pulled it off. I can't thank you enough for this." Their tears had dried now, and the smile in their eyes shone like a star. Korian felt he could get lost in it. "These are my people, yes. But anyone who wants to, can be. And you, if you want...you can be my man."

Korian felt his heart skip a beat. "I-I--yes. But we just met. You're like...awesome. I'm just a dumb fuck with a lot of luck."

"And damn if I need that luck, given how things were turning out just moments ago." Luke laughed, and Korian broke the hug to punch them in the arm.

"You're a dumbass."

Luke's laughter gave way to a smile, and Korian found himself smiling too.

 

-line break-

 

The mayor's office became their base of operations out of sheer convenience. They stayed up for the whole duration of the following day and night, bringing supplies to the freed slaves. Luke volunteered to dig the chips out of them, and Korian saw them for maybe five minutes in all that time. In the end, the Jedi had to be bodily hauled off due to exhaustion, and Korian was happy to crash in the bed with them in the nearest room they could get for themselves. If the Jedi was built for all this excitement and punishment, he sure wasn't.

He didn't know how much he slept. The sunlight that filtered through the blinds on the windows was piercing, and blazing. The room was cool, due to the darkness, but it was rapidly heating up. And Korian, despite being naked, could feel himself sweating.

Luke, instead, seemed not to have a drop of sweat on themselves. Their skin was cool to the touch. In that darkness, Korian couldn't see the scars: but the image of them was just too vivid in his mind, and the feeling of them under his fingers too. He traced them in the dark, feeling the way Luke's skin seemed to rise instead of dip in those lightning patterns, until he felt Luke stir under his touch.

"Morning." the Jedi yawned softly, and nuzzled his face into Korian's chest.

"Morning," Korian smiled, and played with their hair. "Sorry if I waked you up."

"'Snotaproblem." Luke mumbled. "Everybody always seems to want to touch the scars."

"I'll stop if you don't want me to."

"No, it's just..." Luke sighed. "Guess I just gotta tell you the full story."

"I...I guess?"

Luke looked at him with a serious face. "Do you believe in time travel?"

"...I've seen you get up after being shot in the face."

Luke chuckled. "Yeah, but that's just energy dissipation."

Korian gently put a hand on Luke's arms and looked deeply into their eyes. "Luke, you can use magic in a world of electron cloud interaction. Those people down there that we freed think you're some spirit or some stuff like that. Now I don't know anything about Tattooine culture but with what I've seen you pull off, if you told me you could transform into a dragon with three wings and four legs under a full moon, I'd believe you."

"Well no, that actually only happens when there is no moon."

Korian punched them in the arm. "I'm serious, dumbass. This is me, we've met only two days ago, trusting your silly ass, however crazy the story might be."

Luke laughed at that. "Alright, I appreciate the trust you have in me."

Korian shrugged. "I mean, it isn't that far-fetched. And there have been cases of ships getting stuck in hyperspace and skipping centuries."

"The problem is I come from the future." Luke said. "And...it's not a good one. That's why I'm here. To prevent my time from coming to pass."

Korian's mind boggled. He was sure he'd seen a movie or twenty with that plot. And Luke had a robot hand to boot. "Let me guess, you're a soldier, right?"

"I was. A revolutionary, fighting against the monstrosity that the Republic is turning into. They called us Rebels."

"Chancellor Palpatine's rethoric is getting more militaristic by the day. He'd already gotten his term extended two years prior to the start of the war with the whole Separatist secession crisis. It honestly wouldn't surprise me if he pulled a fascist coup tomorrow or the next year."

Luke just stared at him, and Korian paled at the realization.

"...Oh fuck, that's what's gonna happen, isn't it?"

"He's gonna pull his coup in three years, the day before my birth." Luke fiddled with their prosthetic hand. "Declare himself Emperor of the Galaxy and have the Jedi exterminated."

"...This one isn't much of a bombshell. Bit extreme, but...I could see that? You're the first Jedi I like. Most other people aren't even that kind." Korian said. "And I guess he still rules your future."

"No. It's...convoluted. We won, after years of brutal war. Or so we thought. I was twenty-three, I had the blood of too many people on my hands and I'd seen the Emperor's greatest soldier throw the fucking snake down a reactor shaft. Seemed as final an end as any, and we had peace for a while. And then, years later...I found out he wasn't dead anymore."

"Wait, wait, hold on, not dead anymore? I get time travel, but a person can't just un-die!"

Luke's laughter rang hollow and harsh. It made Korian feel cold in the pit of his stomach. "The scars, Kori...Palpatine gave them to me. Burned me with lightning of the Force from the inside out. You think I'm scary as a Jedi? The man is a Sith. The master of them."

Korian swallowed. "Wait, a Sith? Like those from that war a millennium ago? That thing that's not even two paragraphs in the history curriculum?"

"They've been infiltrating the Republic since then, having faked their extinction. They can manipulate the Force in ways even I would shudder at. They use hatred, pain, malice to do it...they live only for power and cruelty."

Korian gave a weak smile. "Sounds like a politician. Which, well, you know...Palpatine."

"We thought we'd finally found peace. My sister and my best friend settled down and had a kid. I tried having a go at relationships, opening a school. But then...there he was again. Palpatine. Returned from death, even more twisted than before. And I, with all my training, all my bullshit magic power, couldn't kill him." Luke's hands balled into fists, and their eyes grew wet. "I saw the end of the Galaxy...and the Force sent me here, with the sacrifice of my friends. To mend things. To prevent the timeline I come from from happening, I guess." Luke wiped a tear from their eye. "You're the first person I met once I got sent to this time." 

Korian sat up. His head weighed a ton. He struggled to vocalize the massive amount of questions he had. "I...I think it's too much to wrap my head around..."

Luke sat up with him and put their hand over his. "I could show you, with the Force." they said, those sad blue eyes looking into his. "But...it's a lot, Kori, yeah. Even more than what I just told you. I wouldn't blame you if you just wanted to walk away from this--"

"Well, I have already a Hutt target on my back since we first slept together, I guess there's little I can walk away from now." Korian pulled a rueful smile. "Alright Luke, hit me with it."

Luke's cool fingers touched his temples, and Korian let his forehead touch Luke's. It flooded him with a sense of comfort, of acceptance, even if he was the one providing it.

But then came the memories.

An asteroid field of a billion silenced screams.

A million metal voices crying for forgiveness in the fire of an explosions.

A blue light against the red. Sky against blood.

And then mud, hot plasma, ship oil, bacta, medical gauze, shouting, cover fire, tears, so many tears. A friend's cocky smile, a sister's embrace, a comrade's gruff paws pulling everyone into a Wookiee hug.

The man in black with the heavy breathing and the bloody sword. Machinery eating at whitened stumps of a person. The pathetic sadness behind the hatred. The blue ghost of The Hero With No Fear, only a little older and remorseful.

And then that horrible yellow smile and eyes. The lightning, exploding deep in the bones. The hatred, the rejoice at the devil's sacrifice.

For a moment it was peace. Quiet study and small adventures. Playing archeology. But then the fortress in the ice loomed, that twisted smile returned. A green and blue blades in an ocean of red. And the lightning again--so much lightning--

Korian came to, gasping for breeath, and clung to Luke for stability. "Holy shit." he struggled. "I-I don't wanna see that again. Ever."

"Neither do I." said Luke, hugging him back, and Korian could feel their tears soaking his chest; he touched his own face, and realized he was crying, himself.

"This...I mean...So you ARE related...he's really your father...and he becomes...just--" Korian choked. "This all happened two days ago. When I met you...you'd just arrived in this time. Your friends, your family, your whole world had just died in front of your eyes and...and...you had the strength to smile and be kind to strangers..." Korian hugged Luke on impulse as he cried, squeezing him tight. "I'm sorry. I-I had no idea."

"You didn't know the full story when you chose to follow me." Luke sniffled in the embrace. "And now that you do, you don't have to follow me if you don't want to anymore."

"But I do." Korian said, cupping Luke's cheek with one hand. "I've seen the shit of this Galaxy, and I always chose not to stick my neck out against it. And then you show up and talk an even worse coward than me, a complete random stranger, into doing the right thing on the basis of 'why not'." Korian paused, and looked down as he clenched his free hand into a fist around the bedcovers. "I thought, if that guy had done it, why shouldn't I do it too? It was scary, yes, but doing good, seeing the joy on those people's faces when they realized they were free, it felt good." Korian sniffled, and then looked back up at Luke with a smile. "And I want to keep doing it. And helping you change such a horrible future would be part of it."

"I..." Luke paused, and it was the first time Korian had seen them unsure since they'd met. They looked smaller, younger than the otherworldly being, shining bright with mystery and power, that had kept surprising him that night. They looked normal. "I'm not used to this level of trust, apart from my friends." Luke said finally. "And they're gone. My family, my friends...I watched them die. Those strong in the Force sacrificed their life energy to send me back. I'm stuck here. If I have to start from scratch again, I want to do it properly. But I don't want anyone else I care for getting hurt."

Korian pulled them into a hug, and kissed the crown of their head. "I told you, it's my choice. I do it because I wouldn't be able to look at my own face in in the mirror otherwise." he caressed Luke's face, brushing stray blond locks out of their eyes. "And I wanna get to know you more as a person. You know, besides the adventures."

Luke chuckled, and pecked him on the lips.

"Sounds like another adventure."

"Maybe it is." Korian kissed them back, and Luke returned the kiss again, pushing against him, grinding themself against his--

And then someone knocked at the door.

"Gods." moaned Korian. "This is cock-blocking."

"I'll get the door." Luke said with a chuckle, calling their pants to themself and stumbling into them. They opened the door, wiping the grogginess from their eyes. "Yes?"

It was the Twi'Lek girl that had been among the Mayor's slaves, Faala. Luke was glad to see in proper clothes, and she herself seemed at least a little bit more at ease...if one could ever be at ease again, after having lived through an ordeal like that. She seemed tentative towards them now though, and Luke couldn't decide if it was because of their now fully visible scars or because of the whole Ka'Lir deal. "Is everything alright?" they tried to ask, smiling and projecting an aura of calm through the Force to put her at ease.

"There's someone wanting to talk to you, Ka'Lir." she finally said, bowing her head just a tad. "It's the White Suns."

The name hit Luke harder than anticipated.

 

-line break-

 

The White Suns, Luke had explained to Korian, was an underground organization made of moisture farmers and city people who helped escaped slaves get their chips removed and find safe passage offworld. The people who raised them, their aunt and uncle, had been members in their youth. Their Aunt Beru had taken her surname from them.

But now there was no Aunt Beru among the weary White Suns delegation that stood waiting for them in the mayor's hotel lobby. But the tall, gruff man with his arm in a sling leading the group...Luke could recognize that wary scowl anywhere, even if it was over two decades younger, and so decided to march straight up to him.

"Luke Skywalker." they said, bowing with their whole chest. "You must be Owen Lars. The freed people here respect you and the White Suns very much."

"So it really is your name, too?" Owen bowed himself, taken aback by the deference. "My stepmother was called Shmi Skywalker."

Luke made a pained smile. It hurt to lie this way, especially to Uncle Owen, the man who'd raised them. "I regret having never known her. I never knew my birth parents, but those who raised me told me that I was related to Shmi. I can't know how true is that, because I left as a youth years ago to train as a Jedi...but my family told me of you, of her, of the White Suns, and I decided that being the first freeborn of my name I owed it to it and her to try and do the right thing myself." 

"That's a right pretty speech." Owen grunted. "But at least unlike her son you backed it up. Anakin left and never came back." he said. "You know, you two look alike, like siblings. At first, when they told me about a Skywalker and described you, I thought they were describing him, not you."

"And who's they?"

"Jabba's men crashed mine and my fiancée Beru's wedding and kidnapped her. They asked me to get you for them...well..." with all the calm in the world, Owen pulled a blaster out of the folds of his coat, and all the members of White Sun did the same. "...Because we are many and we have guns."

Panic broke out among the freedpeople, sending them scrambling around Luke, and both Korian and their pirate friends pulled out their own blasters, aiming them at the farmers.

"Please understand." Owen said. "I'm just doing this for my family."

"You could have asked for help!" protested some of the former slaves.

"What help? A Jedi and a bunch of malnourished slaves? What can you even do? Jabba has an army!"

"Enough!" Luke called over the noise. "I have a counterproposal."

"Which is?" Owen grit his teeth. The man was desperate. It was plain that he'd expectes this to only go two ways: with himself dead, or his demand acquiesced.

Luke smiled. "We give Jabba what he wants...and more."

 

Notes:

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Let me know in the comments about your thoughts on this chapter and the story so far, if you want, I'll be happy to reply. In the meantime, enjoy the teaser for the next part!

"Get a move on!" barked Sanni, kneeling and firing into the hole. Kitster and Sanni manouvered the two guard's corpses to it and kicked them right down the stairs, blocking their attackers for only a moment--but it was all it took for Sanni to blast them down. More guards tried coming up, but as more bodies piled up for them to trip on, more of them bit the dust, slowing down their fellow henchmen and leading them to the same fate--but still they kept coming.
"Gods, they are endless!" Faala cried, shooting twice down the hatch before reloading. "Korian, what's taking you so long?"
"Keep holding on, I'm nearly there!" but was he? Korian bit his tongue as he fast-welded the last wire into place. He had no way to know if this would work. But he had two button pads and two sticks, and no other plan.
He floored it.
"Well?!"
At first, nothing happened. But then, as Korian fumbled blindly with the controls, small, muffled thuds started popping from inside the hangar, and little by little cries and explosions started to ring out, and the ground started shaking, until with a thunderous roar, the hangar door blew open from the inside, rusted, unkempt pieces to it exploding outwards in a fireball as cannons blasted it and kept blasting. As the brown profile of a hover craft bore out through the smoking hole, Korian gave a whoop of joy. He'd done it. He'd commandeered Jabba's barge.
"Great job, kid!" Sanni called. "But how we gonna get there?"
Shit. Korian hadn't thought of that.
"We...jump?"
Looks of scorn met him. "Fuck you, Korian Maas." grumbled Kitster, before they all jumped those twenty feet in the air. They landed hard, cursing each their own gods, and picking up their weapons and sore limbs they ran inside, through the stilll-smoldering holes, into a hail of blasterfire.
"You sure it was a great idea?" Sanni shouted iver the commotion, shooting two Niktos that had tried to climb on board, and Korian grut his teeth.
"Just shut up and grab onto something." he said, and reversed the controls. The ship shook, its engines revving, and careened wildly to the left, crushing half a dozen guards and throwing off a dozen more.
"Great job, kid." Sanni laughed. "Looks like we're gonna have a chance after all."
And as if on cue, a familiar snap-hiss of ignition resounded from above them, and they were bathed in a bright, green glow.
"Trust me," growled Cad Bane, perched atop the barge's main mast and holding Luke's lightsaber, "You don't have a chance in Hell."

Chapter 4: Story of Ka'Lir (Part Two)

Summary:

Luke Skywalker has time-traveled and is stuck in the past, on Tatooine. Their old timeline destroyed, conquered by Palpatine. So, what's a Jedi who has lost everything in their life to do in such a situation?
Why, obviously start a slave revolution.
However, things can sometimes get a little awkward, such as when your adoptive uncle (who is now younger than you) threatens you at gunpoint into becoming part of a prisoner exchange with your adoptive aunt (who is also now younger than you). How's Luke gonna get out of this one?

Chapter Four: Story of Ka'Lir (Part Two)

 

22 BBY. During the year of Tatooine's liberation

 

Beru Whitesun's day could have been summarized with just one word: miserable. She'd seen her wedding burn in a hail of blaster fire and explosions, and had been hauled off and thrown into the dingiest dungeon of Jabba's palace.

And now she sat in the wet clay of the damp cell. It scared her right to the bone. Everyone on Tatooine knew of Jabba's sadism and brutality, and how his henchmen liked to indulge in it. And it was scary, yes, but it was a familiar kind of fear, one you'd grow up with, like the fear of sandstorms and getting lost in the Desert. But the bounty hunter that had stormed the wedding and captured her wasn't a small, sneering monster like those Jabba liked to keep. No, the blue-skinned Duros with the wide-brimmed hat and the duster was something else entirely. Beru could still see him, walking up to them like any old invited guest, making all polite talk before shooting her friends and relatives and maiming Owen. With that half-synthesized voice croaking through the breathing tubes, crushed gravel crunching like bones chewed by a wolf's teeth. Those unblinking, unfeeling red eyes.

And the worst part of all? The bounty hunter had a kid with him. And the kid (Boba, Cad Bane had called him) was now keeping guard outside of her cell. He couldn't have been older than ten or eleven. He was dark-skinned and black-haired, his face hard despite his young age. His eyes were already too old for him--like any kid's eyes would be growing up on Tatooine and seeing the worst the Galaxy could offer, Beru thought--and the shiny armor he was wearing was slightly too big, and it all just made him register even wronger.

"I don't like how you look at me, grandma." the boy--Boba--said.

Now, that offended Beru. "I'm thirty. You think I could be your grandma?"

"You're looking at me weird. You think I'm going to shoot you?"

The words cut through Beru's fear and she glowered at the boy. "You two shot at my family. You gunned down my cousins and my uncles in cold blood."

"They were in the way."

"And you still haven't told me why you did it! Why would Jabba want to kidnap me? I'm just a moisture farmer! I'm nobody."

"Correction. You're not nobody." Boba said, his tone dead, and stepped closer to the cell door to stare right into Beru's eyes. "You're a pawn to get the rebel."

Beru blinked. "The rebel? So the rumors are true? Ka'Lir--"

"Not for long." there it was again, that gravel wheeze, and Boba turned to the side to look down the dungeon corridor. Beru pressed against the bars, trying to see what he was looking at, and--

"Owen!" she called, and earned a smack through the bars from Boba. She fell back, swore, heard Owen call her name, and then Owen came into frame, blaster tight in his sling hand.

"If you hurt her again I swear I'll-"

"You'll do what, hurt a child? Boba could skin you with barely any effort, Lars." Cad Bane came into view behind Owen, pulling him back with a cruel smile. "You've brought the rebel to free her, farmer, have you not? Be thankful we didn't shoot you both on sight when you came at the gate."

"We are really thankful." rubbing her bruised cheekbone Beru finally saw the third being that was with Owen. It was a Human, their hands tied and their features all battered up under their sandy hair.

"Shut up." Owen shoved the Human against the corridor wall, and gave Boba a small metal cylinder. "This is their laser sword. Kriffin' bastard cut down twenty of our men with it before we could capture them."

"Well it was worth losing those twenty men to get back your woman, wasn't it?" Cad Bane gave a dark, sick giggle, and moved to open the cell door. "Come on, farmer. Jedi goes in, your woman goes out."

Beru stood up, and looked from Owen to the rebel and back to Owen. The rebel was scuffed and bruised all over, their outfit torn in a few places. They really looked as if it had taken twenty men to take them down. Ka'Lir the Sky-Walker wouldn't go down so easily, the slaves' tales said. But Ka'lir the Sky-Walker wouldn't kill twenty men, twenty of their own people. Even still...Owen was sacrificing another being for her.

She couldn't say anything to him. Nothing would make sense.

"Alright." Owen breathed, and pushed the Jedi close to the doorway. "Let's do this."

Bona opened the door, and Owen shoved the rebel in as Beru stepped forward. But just as she made to cross the treshold, Boba drew his blaster and shot Owen's leg, nicking his thigh and making him fall into Beru's arms with a cry of pain. 

Beru staggered back, the full weight of her husband on her, and Bane made the cell door slide closed again--trapping all three of them in the cell.

"W-we had a deal!" Owen protested.

"We had a lie." Bane said. "And you fell for it."

"You bastards!" Owen growled, in anger and in pain, and pulled his blaster on the hunters with his uninjured hand, but the hunter was faster on the draw. He shot Owen's blaster out of his hand, and then shot his other arm forward. A small ripcrod shot out, latched onto the blaster in midair, and whipped back to bring Owen's blaster into the Bane's free hand.

"You...you really are monsters." Beru breathed, crying Owen's shaking body in her arms. Owen was just letting out a string of curses through gritted teeth as the adrenaline was leaving him and giving way to shock.

"The weak die." Boba said. "And he's weak."

 "Fuck you." Beru spat, and checked Owen's wounds. One in the upper right arm from earlier, bandaged and alinged, burns on his leff hand from when Bane shot the gun out of his fingers, and a huge side wound on his right thigh, charred and bleeding. Kriff. She couldn't let Owen die. Not like this. Not after he went so far for her.

And then the rebel came in.

"I can help." they said, kneeling down next to Beru.

"You?" Beru blinked. "And how?"

The rebel placed their hands over Owen's body, and closed their eyes. And then, right under Beru's eyes, Owen's wounds started cleaning and closing by themeselves.

"Wha...Skywalker?..." Owen gasped, shooting up in Beru's arms in disbelief, and the rebel--Skywalker?--made a shy smile.

"Je'tii." Boba snarled, and Skywalker turned to face him.

"Yes. Maybe once." the rebel released a breath Beru hadn't realized they'd been holding, and then stood up between the Lars couple and their preteen jailer. Beru could not believe her eyes: in that simple action, the rebel seemed to be transfigurated. Their bruises were now gone, their clothes were now scuffed instead of torn, as if they had been projecting some sort of glamour. Like a spirit, thought Beru. Like Ka'Lir. And their name is Skywalker, too. "If helping people makes me a Jedi, then I guess I am one." Skywalker continued, and Boba glared at them.

"Jedi helping people? Jedi are murderers."

Owen shook and drew a ragged breath. "And aren't you? You and Bane killed so many of our friends and family."

Bane shrugged. "It's just a job." he said, while Boba drew closer to the bars and snarled at Owen.

"I am a bounty hunter, not a murderer. I kill because it's the life my father gave me before the Je'tii took him away from me."

"I have nothing in common with the Jedi of this time, and I will not insult your pain by making excuses for them." said Skywalker. "But I fight for my people, not because it's a job. And I have no intention to die here."

"Bold promises to make for a supposed Jedi who got beaten by a bunch of farmers." Cad Bane chuckled. "If it were up to me, I'd shoot you right in that cell. But Jabba is a client who likes his theatrics."

"You're telling me nothing new. I grew up here."

"And now you're gonna die here." Bane stopped in front of Skywalker, his red eyes glinting under his wide-brimmed hat, and bared his sharp teeth into a cruel smile. "Convenient, huh?" his voice made Beru shudder--but Skywalker dispelled that fear with an unexpected move. They turned their back on Cad Bane.

"Whatever you say, Bane." Skywalker said, getting back to Owen and Beru and sitting down, their back still turned towards the door.

"You're a dead man. These affectations of superiority won't change your fate." Bane said, and sure enough, annoyance reverberated through his voice. 

"Then let me wait for my death in peace." Luke said, and Bane spat at his feet and stormed off, taking Boba with him.

Beru let go of the breath she'd been holding.

"Was that kid's name Boba? I am really having the weirdest day." Skywalker said with a blank face, and then proceeded to get out of their restraints with the grace of an escape artist.

 

 "They could have killed you...us...at any moment and you joke about it?" asked Beru.

"They won't." Skywalker said with as they dusted themselves off. "Don't worry, me and Owen made a plan with a couple of friends."

Beru's mouth fell open in shock. "What? So you weren't..."

"A captive? No. Your husband took quite the risk. He's a very brave man, Beru."

"A very dumb man, you mean." Owen grunted, sitting up. "In case you haven't noticed, Skywalker, we're all still prisoners and unarmed."

"Please, I told you to call me Luke." Skywalker said, rubbing their wrists and standing up. "And the diversion should be coming right about...now." Skywalker couldn't even finish is sentence that the whole dungeon shook, dust falling over them.

"What the hell was that?" Beru coughed, as Luke opened the cell door with the Force.

The Jedi flashed them a smile. "My boyfriend."

 

-Line break-

 

A few minutes earlier

 

"Dank farrik" Korian swore, hunched over his datapad. "This is harder than I thought."

"Can you doing or can't you do it?" Kitster asked as their group straddled the rock formations around Jabba's palace. It was made up of the two of them, Sanni Charit and Faala, all of them wearing desert clothes and spacer jumpsuits to blend in with the terrain.

"With the proper time and worm I can slice into anything." Korian replied. "It's a matter of 'Net signal. Jabba's palace is pure, dense mountain rock, so coming at it from the outside is insanely difficult."

"Well, I don't think we have the proper time. If you wanna help Ka'Lir escape from there without tripping alarms--"

"No need for aggression, Kitster." Faala squeezed the youth's elbow. "I'm sure Korian is doing his best."

"Yeah, let him work." chimed in Sanni. "This is just like smuggling, and we all know the plan. As soon as Korian is done, Skywalker will get out and cause a distraction, so our guys can swoop in, draw the guards out so Skywalker can go straight for that kriffin' slug's head."

Korian perked up. "Yes, but I was thinking...what if we caused the distraction?"

"What do you mean?"

"I am redirecting the worm to a certain...something in Jabba's hangar. His private barge...and its weapons systems." Korian smiled, and Sanni smiled back. 

"Hurting them with their own stuff. I like it."

"Problem is...we gotta get closer to the hangar..."

"Dank Farrik."

"Yeah. It's either this or waiting a hour or more for the other plan."

"And we can't afford it." Faala chimed in. "Owen hasn't come back out yet. For all we know, Jabba or his goons might have decided to kill him and Ka'Lir on the spot."

"Alright then," said Kitster. "Let's risk it. For Ka'Lir."

The four started descending from the slope. The twin suns were setting, and the sky was a deep, reddish violet. It was not going to be an easy night.

Korian walked behind Faala, datapad still in one hand.

"So how did you meet Ka'Lir?"

Korian looked up from his datapad and blushed. "Well, I just saw them and decided to follow them because I was curious. It was the same night we met the rest of you."

"Oh. Well...that's...unexpected?"

"They're a Jedi from Tattooine who goes around with the name of a mythological liberator. So, yeah, I assume that the plain banality of a hookup is unexpected, compared to that."

"Ka'Lir seems far closer and more affectionate than a hookup would suggest. You give yourself too little credit. Though I admit it's all theory to me. I had only kissed my first girl before being kidnapped and...sold."

Korian winced. "That...I'm sorry. It's horrible."

"It is." Faala looked away, down the slope they were descending. "I have a sister in Jabba's palace. I just know that she's there but I don't know anything else."

"We'll free her." Korian swore. "We'll free everyone."

"I know," Faala said, steeling herself. "It just feels so unreal."

"But it is, that's the best part." Korian smiled. "You any confident with that blaster?"

"I used to shoot with a crossbow and a slugthrower when I was a child on Ryloth." Faala gave him a pointed look. "Don't think of me as harmless for having been a slave, freeborn."

"Sorry, sorry." Korian flushed. "I'm just anxious. This isn't really my place--my job has always been one done sitting down at a computer--oh shit!"

"Korian!"

Perhaps owning precisely to the fact that Korian had always done his job sitting down at a computer, he wasn't particularly skilled in climbing up and down mountanous terrain. It should have come as no surprise that he ended up slipped and falling down like a bitch. Unfortunately, Korian was as straight as he was smart, which was to say, not at all, which is why he now was in mid-air, screaming for his life.

For a moment, he was in genuine free fall, his life flashing in front of his eyes. Then he fell into a hanging bush, utterly demolished it, and crashed on his back onto a platform. 

"Ow," he groaned, and looked up as he hugged himself, hurting all over. Two palace guards armed with halberd looked back at him, befuddled by his sudden appearance. Korian forced a smile. "Hi?..."

The two guards laughed, and Korian joined them himself for an embarassed laugh, frantically trying to reach the small, concealed blaster holstered the back of his pants belt. "Yeah...like...can you point me to the hangar?"

"No." growled one of the two halberds, and slashed at him. With an effort that made the Togruta groan for the strain on this hurting back, Korian dodge-rolled as the pike embedded itself on the stone of the observation platform. 

As he rolled, he kicked the other guard in rhe shin, making him stumble and cry in pain, and threw his bag in the man's face as the other still tried to dislodge his halberd from the pavement. The full brunt of all Korian's tools inside it (all metal, to boot) stunned the man and threw him back, causing him to backpedal over the edge and fall over the cliff.

And fuck you, though Korian, I can't be the only dumbass falling off cliffs, can I?

"I'm gonna kill you." snarled the other guard, having given up on freeing his halberd and instead pulling a knife out of his belt. Korian finally managed to dislodge his blaster from its holster--but before either of them could make a move, a crack broke through the air and the guard's neck exploded in a shower of blood. Korian raised a hand to his own unharmed throat as the guard crumpled to the floor dead, a scream frozen in his mouth.

Faala came rushing down the side of the rock formation, landing on the platform right next to Korian.

"You alright?" She asked him, laying a hand on his shoulder while a long, smoking gun laid in the other.

"Yes." Korian swallowed, and wiped the guard's blood from his face with the back of his hand. "He just--I've never seen a blaster do that."

"Slugthrowers are brutal like that." said Kitster, joining them and throwing a look down the platform parapet, where alarmed cries were ringing out already. "We're gonna have company soon."

Korian looked around the platform: a small door opened into its floor, leading into Jabba' palace. "Bad news then--they're gonna come out the same way we go in." he bent down, picking up his broken datapad. Due to the fall it had torn in two, but not completely--the internal circuitry was still keeping the pieces connected, the screen glitching and lagging. He took a deep breath. "But I can still do this. Just keep us alive."

"That thing's busted. How are ya gonna carry out the plan?" Sanni Charit joined them, priming her blaster rifle."

"Easy. The worm's already inside the ship's computer." Korian walked over to the dead guards and started rifling though their pockets. "I just need to build a new controller."

"Kriffin' gear-head." Sanni laughed as Korian started busting out his tools. "Alright, let's go. Get behind all of us."

Korian git to work on dismantling the guards' comms, piece by piece. He was lucky he had built his datapad from an old portable gaming console screen: now it was time to turn it back into a console. He fished in his pockets and bags for more pieces, throwing out wireslicers, bugs, netscrewers, scramblers as plasma bolts started blasting out of the trapdoor.

"Get a move on!" barked Sanni, kneeling and firing into the hole. Kitster and Sanni manouvered the two guard's corpses to it and kicked them right down the stairs, blocking their attackers for only a moment--but it was all it took for Sanni to blast them down. More guards tried coming up, but as more bodies piled up for them to trip on, more of them bit the dust, slowing down their fellow henchmen and leading them to the same fate--but still they kept coming.

"Gods, they are endless!" Faala cried, shooting twice down the hatch before reloading. "Korian, what's taking you so long?"

"Keep holding on, I'm nearly there!" but was he? Korian bit his tongue as he fast-welded the last wire into place. He had no way to know if this would work. But he had two button pads and two sticks, and no other plan.

He floored it.

"Well?!"

At first, nothing happened. But then, as Korian fumbled blindly with the controls, small, muffled thuds started popping from inside the hangar, and little by little cries and explosions started to ring out, and the ground started shaking, until with a thunderous roar, the hangar door blew open from the inside, rusted, unkempt pieces to it exploding outwards in a fireball as cannons blasted it and kept blasting. As the brown profile of a hover craft bore out through the smoking hole, Korian gave a whoop of joy. He'd done it. He'd commandeered Jabba's barge.

"Great job, kid!" Sanni called. "But how we gonna get there?"

Shit. Korian hadn't thought of that.

"We...jump?"

Looks of scorn met him. "Fuck you, Korian Maas." grumbled Kitster, before they all jumped those twenty feet in the air. They landed hard, cursing each their own gods, and picking up their weapons and sore limbs they ran inside, through the stilll-smoldering holes, into a hail of blasterfire.

"You sure it was a great idea?" Sanni shouted iver the commotion, shooting two Niktos that had tried to climb on board, and Korian grut his teeth.

"Just shut up and grab onto something." he said, and reversed the controls. The ship shook, its engines revving, and careened wildly to the left, crushing half a dozen guards and throwing off a dozen more.

"Great job, kid." Sanni laughed. "Looks like we're gonna have a chance after all."

And as if on cue, a familiar snap-hiss of ignition resounded from above them, and they were bathed in a bright, green glow.

"Trust me," growled Cad Bane, perched atop the barge's main mast and holding Luke's lightsaber, "You don't have a chance in Hell."

 

-line break-

 

Beru and Owen had been following Luke for the better part of five minutes now, and the Jedi hadn't spoken a single word as the corridor became more and more strewn with bodies as they led the way. Even Luke's steps seemed not to make any sound at all, as they dispatched enemies with either the Force or their bare hands. Beru and Owen had yet to fire a single shot from the blasters they had acquired from the downed guards: the small frame of Luke Skywalker preceded them like a wall of death. Even blaster bolts seemed to stop in their tracks before them, before ricocheting into their assailants. 

Until finally, they came to the throne room.

"Here you are, 'Ka'Lir'." Jabba seethed in Huttese from his throne, a couple of guards pinning a dozen slaves to it with the halberds. Jabba himself was holding a signaling device, likely connected to the slaves' implanted bombs Boba was standing to one side, donning his helmet and holding a couple of blaster pistols.

"Hello, Jabba." Luke said, their tone flat. "What is this?"

"I have sent Cad Bane to kill your friends. You have no hope to reach them in time, for in the palm of my hand I hold the lives of these slaves you have been such a bother about. With a press of my thumb on this remote I can blow them all into obli--" Jabba ended his sentence in a strangled cry of pain, the device blowing apart in his hand, taking his fingers with it. "Blasted Jedi--KILL THE DAMN SLAVES!"

Terrified, the guards raised their halberds over the frightened crowd, but Luke balled their fists and they were wrenched out of their hands, the bottom of the poles hitting them in the gut and knocking them to the floor. Jabba tried to slither back in terror, whimpering at his mangled hand, but Luke raised the two weapons to his throat with the Force, making the Hutt freeze in place.

"No, Jabba. You're not getting out of this alive." Luke spoke again, and this time their voice chilled the room. "Owen, Beru. Get the chains off of these people."

The Lars couple moved as the Jedi ask, but their hair were standing up over their skin all the same. Was it really this, the end of Jabba?

"W-who are you people?" asked a green-skinned Twi-Lek as Beru went to work on her shackles.

"We are White Sun." Beru smiled. "You are Oola, right? Your sister Faala told us, she's helping lead the attack from outside."

Faala?" the girl--Oola--grabbed Beru's arm, and then looked to Luke, who had now walked to the center of the room. "Is that--"

 "My name is Luke Skywalker, and I am here to rescue you. " Luke flashed a small smile, and then added, more serious: "And I am Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al. I am here to free all slaves, and punish all masters."

"Ka'Lir." Oola repeated, her voice breaking, and the word pervaded the slaves like a mantra.

"N-nonsense! It's just an old slave fairytale!" Jabba stammered out, and called to Boba. "Fett! Do something! I'm paying you! I'm your employer! Kill them!"

"I don't want to fight you, kid." Luke said.

"I am a bounty hunter." Boba said, then cocked his head at Luke. "Say...can you keep those halberds up while you do other stuff?"

"...Yeah?"

"Good. I would hate for my employer to run away before he can pay me for your head." fast as lightning, Boba darted off to the right, firing repeated shots in quick succession at Luke. The Jedi grunted and stumbled back as the shots dissipated into the invisible Force barrier around them, but then threw out their hand and the twin blasters were thrown out of Boba's hands. 

"You know kid, it's pretty dumb to fight someone who can disarm you with their mind."

"Shut up!" Boba snarled, and then produced twin daggers from his belt, jumping at Luke. Luke parried both his initial slashes from the inside, making use of their longer limbs and consequential greater reach, but did not try to attack the boy, only stepping back as he pressed them. Boba was a grey and red blur of metal and hatred, but Luke was like the sand against him, dissipating his every move.

"Attack, you coward!" Boba shouted at them. "I am a hunter! An assassin! A Fett! You will not belittle me like this."

Yet all Luke replied was: "I know you're a clone."

"What?" Boba seemed to freeze at that question, and Luke again disarmed them with the Force

"I know you're a clone. A payment for an army of tube-grown Jango Fetts, paid for by the Sith."

"What does it matter?" Boba snarled, and pulled out a couple of electro-gauntlets. This time, Luke focused on evading.

"It matters--because the Sith control both the CIS and the Republic. And the Republic is sending millions of those clones to the slaughter--your brother, each and every one of them. Your father may be dead, but your brothers are dying right now. You still have a family, Boba--and they're slaves just like the ones Jabba keeps!"

Boba stopped dead in his tracks this time. Even the vocoder from his helmet seemed to falter. "I...this was so that my father could have me."

"Yes. But you can have your family again." Luke said. "My father was born a slave. I'm fighting against slavery because I don't want anybody's family to suffer like this ever again. What about you, Boba?"

Boba shook, and powered down his gloves. "Cad Bane has your lightsaber."

"Figured as much." Luke said, and turned back to Jabba. "As for you, Jabba...I'm just sorry we cannot feed you to the Sarlacc due to lack of time. Your pet Rancor will have to do."

"This...this is ridiculous. Fett--I paid you. You must work for me. You--" Jabba tried, but the bounty hunter turned his back on him. Furious, the Hutt turned back to Luke, but Oola pressed the button on his throne armrest, and as the trapdoor in front of the throne opened, leading to the Rancor pit below, and all the other slaves started pushing the Hutt into it from behind. Jabba screamed and pleaded, but to no avail. He tumbled down the hole, and his pleas turned into screams of agony, before silence fell again in the rancor pit.

Justice was done.

 

-line break-

 

To say Korian was regretting having woken up at all that morning would have been an understatement. The hangar was on fire, Jabba's barge was on fire, and even as they tried to blast Cad Bane out of the air with the barge's cannons, the bastard seemed almost as proficient with Luke's lightsaber as Luke was, batting away their small fire while his rocket boots helped him evade their heavy artillery.

"I've gotta say, I'm impressed." Bane said, throwing a grenade down to Faala's position. The girl rolled away just in time, but the explosion still knocked her flat on her back and threw the slugthrower out of her hands. Korian did a barrel roll and caught it, firing at Bane as he moved, without even trying to aim. The force of the slug threw him back on the planks of the bridge, and threw Bane's hat clean off his head, but only managed to graze his scalp. Korian tried to fire another shot, but no luck. The slugthrower jammed, and Bane turned to face him. Korian shuddered. A thin rivulet of blood ran down the Duros's face, and his smile turned into a scowl. "But maybe I've toyed with you too much."

He rocketed to the barge's bridge to join them deflecting blaster bolts as they tried to press him, and shot out a ripcord right through Sanni's thigh. Sanni screamed, and as Bane started dragging her towards him, Kitster ran at the hunter with a knife. He managed to cut the ripcord with it--but Bane managed to cut his blade arm clean off right under the shoulder with the lightsaber before he could turn toward the hunter. Kitster screamed, and Bane kicked him to the side. He turned his attention to Korian, and started marching towards Korian. Korian cursed, roared, and ran at Bane with the slugthrower, swinging it like a club--but the hunter cleaved the gun in two and elbowed him right in the diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him. Korian fell to the floor clutching his gut, and Bane kicked him in the face. Korian fell back, stars dancing in front of his face, and Bane went to strike at him with the lighstaber, but all of a sudden he cried out and jerked back, the weapon dropping from his hand and cluttering uselessly to the floor.

Korian struggled upwards, managing to catch a glimpse of Faala behind Bane, a dagger firmly planted into the hunter's shoulder blade.

"Alright, I've had it with you fuckers." Bane growled, and judo-flipped the girl right into Korian, knife still sticking out of his back. "I'm gonna kill you." he said, taking out the lightsaber again. "I'm gonna fucking kill you all, right here, right now."

"You're not gonna kill anybody ever again, Bane." Luke's voice rang out, and then the Jedi flew out of the smoke, planting a devastating right hook into the hunter's face with their mechanical hand.

Bane cried out in pain, spitting out teeth and blood, but didn't lose their footing and grabbed Luke with his shock gauntlet. The Jedi cried out in pain, and resorted to headbutting Bane to make him lose their hold. Cad Bane did exactly that, recoiling, then grunted and slashed at Luke with the lightsaber. The strike missed due to the Jedi's reflexes, but Bane lost neither time nor momentum and, while his sword arm was still moving, took out his blaster and fired three blaster bolts in quick succession, nicking Luke over the side of the arm. Luke hissed in pain, rolled out of the way of Bane's flamethrower, but it was not enought to prevent their tunic from catching fire. Luke quickly ripped it off, remaining in their black jumpsuit, and threw it at Bane as it burned. The hunter flailed at it for a moment, and Luke took the advantage to rip a chunk of debris out of the ship and hurl it at Bane. The Duros was none the slower, however, and slashed the debris in two, destroying it and spinning to gi forwards and cut Luke's head off--

--but that was when Luke used the Force to stop the lightsaber in midair.

Bane balked and stumbled in surprise and broken momentum, and Luke took the opportunity to spin under the blade and deliver a powerful kick straight into Bane's stomach, sending him flying. The hunter crashed into the bow of the ship, and the lightsaber fell back into Luke's hands.

"There? Did I stutter?" Luke grinned, even while panting from the exhaustion and the adrenaline. "Though I must say I'm impressed. You must have something of the Force to wield a weapon like this, Bane. And yet you waste it by killing people for money."

Bane laughed harshly, then coughed, and bent down to pick up his hat and put it back on before standing up again. "Pretty sure I've killed less people than you today, Jedi." the Duros spat a tooth and seized Luke up. "I've never seen you before."

"I'm new around. But I intend to stay."

"I wouldn't do it if I were you." as if all the fight had left him, Bane turned his back on Luke and started walking towards the bow of the ship--right where it stuck out of the blast hole in the hangar door. Luke watched him go, puzzled. As Bane reached the bow, he turned back, and said: "It seems your friends didn't know what they were doing. This thing's gonna blow."

"Wait!" Luke reached out with his unarmed hand, but Bane was already gone--and the Larses and the freed slaves were starting to pore out into the hangar, staring right at the inferno he was standing on.

"Luke, what's happening--"

"Get back! It's gonna explode, get back--"

The group had no time to hear the full sentence, for the Jedi and the whole barge became engulfed in flames. The explosion shone brightly with the glow of burning fuel and melting metal, the room lighting up--and yet no shockwave cracked the mountain, no debris flattened them, no heat wave burned them. No, the explosion seemed to ripple inwards, contorting on itself, as if pushed back by a prodigious force, energy crackling around it in a round shield which compressed it down into nothing more and more as radiation pushed out of it, harmless as smoke...and then, in the center of it, shining themselves bright like a star, floated Luke Skywalker, the bodies of their friends around them. The Jedi had their arms spread outward, their outfit was charred in several places, blood dripped profusely from their nose as they dissipated the explosion and floated down to the ground with Korian, Faala, Kitster and Sanni, who were themeselves wounded but still alive.

"Ka'Lir!." the freed slaves cried, running towards the group with the Larses as more and more energy dissipated off the Jedi.

"Luke!" called Beru as the Jedi touched the ground and wobbled forwards, their knees giving out like those of a puppet whose strings had been cut. The last wave of energy rolled off them and they fell right into Beru's arms. The woman struggled and with Owen' help gently set the unconscious Jedi down.

"The...the explosion...this being just...made it disappear?" Oola said. "They really are Ka'Lir. It's all true." she brought a hand to her mouth, and choked on tears she had been repressing for years. "It's all true. We're free."

"We are, sister." Faala got up, and put a hand on her arm, surprising her.

"Faala?..."

"Yes."

"This is a miracle." some of the other freed slaves commented. "We must attend to the wounded."

"Ka'Lir too!"

"They...are they alive?"

"They're not gonna die so soon." Korian answered, cradling Luke's body. "They have a mission."

"Yes." Faala stated, giving her jacket to her sister. "We have still brethren in Mos Espa, in Anchorhead, and the other settlements. And there are other criminals, other slavers than Jabba on the planet."

"And...we'll...get them too." Luke coughed, as they struggled to sit up. "So I swear." they added, and a crowd formed to embrace them. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You better not. I mean, what you did was beyond cool, but--"

"Beyond cool?" Luke coughed, and smiled. "So you mean, like...supercool?"

"...Gods, you're such a dork. But please, don't do it again, you scared the shit out of me."

"No promises."

"Fair enough." Korian laughed, and kept hugging Luke even after everybody else detached and huddled around them. Everybody save Owen, who sat with his back to them and his face towards the hangar entrance, towards the light that shone through the blast hole. Korian turned to face him, puzzled. "Owen? Why are you staying by yourself?"

Owen didn't reply. He was staring at the light from outside, a confused look on his face. Then a shadow fell over his face, and he pushed them down. "Get down!" he cried as he stood up in front of them, reaching for his blaster--right before a slug tore through his shoulder blade. Owen crumpled to the floor, grey in the face, revealing the scowling figure of Cad Bane, battered and burnt, with a smoking scattergun-type slugthrower in his hand.

"You people are like cockroaches." the bounty hunter complained, reloading the scattergun. Everybody went for their weapons, but nobody in the Galaxy was said to be able to outdraw Cad Bane, nobody save--

"Hey, old man."

Cad Bane froze. He slowly turned back, pale, looked down on his unarmed side, and there it was, a long beskar knife sticking out of his kidney, and young Boba Fett's hand on the hilt. And Boba was pointing the Duros's own blaster in his face. "Boba, what in the ACTUAL FU--"

the blaster shot rippled through his skull, vaporizing his brain and burning off the back of his hat, and Cad Bane spoke no more. Without missing a beat, Boba Fett took his dagger out of the Duros's body and cleaned it as he walked towards the huddled, confused mass of rebels. "I have been cruel earlier, farmer." he spoke, and took off his helmet. His stone face now was a mess of emotion, his own eyes glistening. "You were strong. But why--why did you make yourself a target--"

"I couldn't...sell out the dream...these people have...even if I'd tried to earlier...I was...freeborn...couldn't really..understand..." the Man coughed, his face growing ever paler as he spoke. "Or maybe it...just seemed right...in that moment..."

"Luke," Beru pleaded as she cradled her husband. "C-can't you heal him? Just like you did earlier--please!"

"This is lungs, aorta, shoulder bones--damage is too great--I'm sorry--the explosion--I'm so sorry--I expended all my energy." Luke was full blown crying now, even for this man they'd, by all accounts, just met today. They struggled towards Beru, grasping Owen's hand and pressing it to their lips as tears rolled down their cheeks. "Why, Owen? Why?"

"Why...not? Isn't that...what you'd said?" Owen wheezed. "Why...not...save...someone...when you can...you can...you Luke...you go...save...every...one...else..."

He breathed his last, Luke crying into his hand and into Korian's embrace, as Beru closed her husband's eyes and joined Luke in mourning. In order to preserve water, Tatooine people truly cried only for great joys or tragedies, and here Luke cried as if they'd just lost a father or a brother. Maybe it was as they'd told the young Boba--they really were all the family they had left.

Shaking themselves out of their tears, Luke got up to their feet, helped by Korian, and wiped at their eyes. Then they took a deep breath, and looked at all the people thay had freed today--more than a hundred they numbered, after they'd gone through the palace's rooms on their way to the hangar--ans they finally spoke again.

"My name is Luke Skywalker. I do not use the name Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al because I want worshippers. I use it because it is the old slave-tongue my family taught me. I use this name because it means freedom, and this is exactly what I want to bring to my home, and to everyone of our enslaved siblings in the Galaxy." Luke paused, breathing hard. "Dead Jabba's coffers hold enough money for all of you to be able to build yourselves a new life wherever they may choose. But I'm going to stay and keep fighting, for everybody else who isn't free yet. I will not ask you to walk with me any further than you have, at the same time."

Grim faces answered them, but one by one the freed slaves rose and stood with Luke, and each of every one of them nodded.

"We are with you, Ka'Lir." Faala said. "You bring freeborn and slave together for the same cause. You are willing to die for us as we would be for you."

"I don't want to do this in my name." Luke replied. "I want to do it in dead Owen's name, in mauled Kitster's name. In the names of all of us. This is a people's war, not a person's."

"We are a people." Beru said, dried tears still on her face as she rose to her feet herself. "Freebeings, freedpeople, and slaves, should not stand divided against this wretched system any loger. Owen understood it in his final moments."

"The Galaxy ought to understand it too, ans you ought not to forget it, Ka'Lir." Kitster said, mustering enough strength to stand up even with an arm missing and the stump hastily bandaged by Sanni, "You cry with us, you shed water with us--is it not because you are one of us? Part of the people as a person, and not more, not less?"

It all sounded very strange to Korian's ears as he held Luke up, as if they were speaking in a rough Galactic Standard Basic translation of the slaves' tongue. A tongue which was way older and hadn't evolved in straight lines and uniform patterns. It was very probable, Korian reflected, that no two families spoke the same dialect. But then again, they might just have been translating for the benefit of outsiders like him, Sanni or Boba.

"I am." Luke said in the end. "Very well. Let this be a people's war then. A good man died here today for all of us. You heard it from his lips. Let his blood and the blood of all our brethren--our comrades--be our flag."

The freed people cheered. Tatooine's revolution had just begun.

Notes:

Hello there, my darling readers. I hope you liked this chapter. If you did, please leave some kudos and comments, getting feedback is everything for a writer and I'd love to hear about what you think of this story as it is evolving. I'll wrap up this flashback story arc in the next chapter so we can get back to the main plot; in the meantime, enjoy a little teaser for the next chapter:

Luke rose from the sand, still disoriented, and was met with the green glow of a lightsaber.

"I am sorry, Jedi Master." the Tusken said, blank steel goggles bearing into Luke's eyes, cutting through skin and bone, trying to reach Luke's soul in the Force, while the green saber they held in their hand still hovered in front of Luke. "Please forgive what I'm about to do."

Chapter 5: Story of Ka'Lir (Part Three)

Summary:

Revolutions are already hard enough to pull off. But the part that comes after, the part after all the fighting is done, is where everything can go wrong. Luke Skywalker is determined not to see the same mistakes happen again. Luckily, an unlikely help presents itself.

Chapter Five: Story of Ka'Lir (Part Three)

 

22 BBY. During the year of Tatooine's liberation

 

Sanni Charit had been many things in her life. A thief, a robber, a hyperlane-woman, even a space pirate at one time when there was so much fire in her, and then when her luck had ran out she had been forced to become a spice runner and weapons smuggler for the Hutts, a tool for them to profit off the destruction of the lives of millions. She had earned with time enough credits to buy herself out of her debt (servitude, not slavery, she had told herself so many times, because there were no tracking chips or submuscular explosives involved) and once she had, she'd elected to just stay on Tattooine and spend time with some of her old fellow pirates. She'd just reached sixty, after all, and all the fire in her had been forced down to become bitterness and bile, eating away at her liver little by little, without ever being able to reach boiling point by how she'd been beaten down. But then that mysterious rogue Jedi little more than half her age had turned up, slaughtering Jabba's goons left and right, and that fire had been reawakened.

She was going to die of bitterness sooner or later, she'd thought: so why not fuck some shit up in the meantime? One last throwback to those pirate days? She'd thrown herself into it with all her heart, intending on letting that old fire rip loose until she could be, if not at peace, at least a little lighter? 

And instead, to everybody's surprise, that crazy wizard kid had won. Tatooine was free, Jabba's empire in ruins, and the money now serving a higher purpose.

And most surprising of all, Sanni had managed to survive. What was she now to do? Skywalker's plan after finishing dealing with those who were resisting the abolition of slavery on Tattooine was to liberate Kessel, Zygerria, every slave planet. Her mind had reeled, in the first moments. She wanted to tell them that they were crazy, and yet she'd seen the slave mines of Kessel. She'd fed the slave mines by being a spice runner. The kid's plan was the only thing that made sense now.

Still, it had been too much craziness all in one go. And so, at the festival they threw to celebrate the liberation, she'd taken her drink and retired to one solitary corner while everybody else ate, sang, and danced.

Unfortunately, her peace and quiet didn't last long, for Skywalker's boyfriend soon joined.

"Hey," the kid said, six solid feet of awkwardness. "So, um. What now?"

Sanni looked at him like he'd grown another head on each of his montrals. "Why are you asking me? I mean, you of all people should know 'What now', you're Skywalker's twink."

Korian's pale green skin turned a deep emerald. "Wha--how dare you. Have you seen Luke? If I'm a twink, then what on Tatooine is Luke?"

Sanni glanced at Skywalker, clad in flowing traditional Tatooine festival robes and wearing blue kohl on their eyes, finally looking a bit more their actual age, dancing with Beru, and then glanced back at Korian, wearing shirtless sleeves, a blue tank top, and impossibly tight pants with his knee-high boots.

"Well, it's an even match."

"Oh, come on!"

"You're only digging yourself further, sweetie." Sanni sipped her drink. "Plus, Luke's thirty-three and you're twenty-six. And Luke can choke people with just their brain."

"And I admit that's insanely hot, but the point is," Korian sighed, "Look, you're the only other normal person here that I know."

"...I was a spice smuggler."

"Yes! That's the point, these people, these Tatooine folk, with their songs and their language and their culture, Luke's at home here, effortlessly. Me? I can't help but feel out of place, even if they're all just so nice."

"Well kid, does Luke make you feel out of place?" Sanni asked, and Korian hugged his arms.

"...Well, no. Luke's...considerate. Makes you feel like you're valid even when you think yourself scum."

That they do, thought Sanni with some bitterness for her earlier thoughts. "Pure sunshine."

Korian's sigh was so unconsciously dreamy it hurt. "Yeah."

Sanni rolled her eyes, and patted him on the shoulder. "Then it's alright. You have someone to keep you grounded, so you'll get used to all of this as you stick around."

Korian looked at her. "Are you going to stick around too?"

Sanni took another sip of her drink. "Sure. I wanna give a hand where I can."

"Me too." said Korian. "In whatever way I can."

 

-line break-

 

Giving a hand where Korian could soon turned out to be helping going with Luke, Beru, Faala, Sanni, Kitster and even the Fett kid in a couple of landspeeders, straight into the desert...to parlay with Tusken raiders.

What use would he be there, he didn't know. He was an average shot, even with his recent training, and a lucky-to-get-out-alive fighter at best. But Luke had asked him to come anyway, and he was at least grateful that they could spend time together. Luke finally seemed more at ease than the moody, confrontational fighter that had first crashed on Tatooine and started raising Hell. Unfortunately, Luke had decide to pick the speeder ride as a good time to reconnect with Beru, and the two spent all their time in the front seats talking about the minutiae of moisture farming. It bored Korian to tears. He was grateful at least Faala had decided to sit along with him, as at least he had someone to share this awkwardness with.

"So, uh." he asked. "You mentioned you and your sister are both from Ryloth."

Faala glanced at him. "Yeah. We are." she said, terse. "I hope one day we can return without risking another slavery, or death."

"You're talking about the Separatist invasion."

"Incursion from slave raiders were a thing before the Techno Union invaded. And Orn Free Taa, our Senator, was always too busy enriching himself on Coruscant. That coward...if I had my hands around his neck..."

"You probably will, at some point." Luke chuckled from the driver's seat. "I have gathered information about anti-slavery cells on Kessel, Zygerria, and Cham Syndulla's movement on Ryloth. After we're a little more stable here, I...would like to contact them, in order to build a coalition of anti-slavery forces across the Outer Rim."

"Then why aren't we doing that instead of driving in the middle of the Desert?"

"Because we are indeed doing that, just on a smaller scale." said Luke. "The Tuskens are this planet's main autoctonous sentient species, the most hostile and warlike--and you could hardly blame them. There are many mines and trains on their land. If we want to be serious about our ideals, then we need to renegotiate that and strive to find solutions to repair the damage that the Hutts and the mining companies caused. And they would be a useful ally in the fight to fully wrest Tatooine from those interests."

"And you are willing to do that even though they tortured and killed Shmi?" Beru gave Luke a pointed Luke, and the rebel sighed.

"We are the descendants of settlers and imported slaves, when not immigrants and former importer slaves ourselves. We merely happened to be born or transported here without choice, but we are still encroaching on their land. Land they live on since the time of the Kumungah, according to the Legend of Lehon. We call ourselves Tatooine people, and in a sense, we are, but not to their extent. Integrity thus necessitates that if we want to claim a right to our land, we must recognize the same to those who have been struggling for this very same land for far longer." Luke looked at Beru. "A Tusken tribe killed Shmi, but we cannot fail to do right by the Tuskens because of that. Because we are not here as individuals, Beru. We are here as leaders, representatives of a bigger movement."

Beru frowned. "We are. But it's not easy all the same." she sighed. "I'm the reason she came into our family, you know. I introduced her to Owen's father and he freed her. Sometimes, it even feels like I'm the reason she's dead."

"You aren't." Luke said. "It was forced out of your control. This age-old power struggle we're making this trip in order to end." they added, and then smiled. "Besides, I have a good feeling. The Tusken representative seems to be a Jedi, and they contacted us first after retaking much of the more out-there minerary settlements on their own. Isn't this a good start? A demonstration of the commonalities we and them share?"

Finally, after having been silent since her initial question, Faala spoke up again. "I've had from Kitster amd the other Tatooine-born freedpeople that the Tuskens punish people with slavery."

Luke nodded. "They do, even if it is a different slavery. Trespassing, stealing, harming killing, their justice is either forced labor, exile, or execution. The first option carries a chance of redemption, at least."

"Which doesn't seem very different from what we did to the slavers we hunted." shrugged Korian. "At least it's not capturing and selling people for profit and pleasure."

"We are here." Beru cut them off as they neared the entrance of the canyon. The speeder slowed down.

"Good." Luke said, dismounting. "Keep calm, now."

The canyon was a mountain formation in the heart the Jundland Wastes. Luke knew it well: it was here that they had found out that the crazy old hermit that lived in the desert was really Jedi hero Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was fitting, in a sense. But this place, in this time, was much different. A thick, suffocating cloud hung over the place in the Force, darkness soaking its walls. Their shadows seemed to grow longer, and despite there being no wind blowing in the canyon and both Suns being up, the place was ice cold.

"What is this place?" Faala asked, trembling. "Even the air feels...wrong."

She was right. The canyon and the rocky, twisted valley it opened into was steeped in the dark side. Luke could almost see flashes of rage, a blue lightsaber cutting through muscle and bone, rending flesh and life amidst screams and tears.

With each step, the face behind the killing hand grew clearer and angrier, until Luke could finally see it: it was the face of Anakin Skywalker. They didn't connect the dots as much as they started falling into place like dominoes: this was Anakin Skywalker's first step towards becoming Darth Vader, and they were all walling inside them. They could see Tusken upon Tusken fruitlessly try to defend their village only to be cut down by Anakin's rage...until the vision straight out attacked them.

"Sorcerer!" it shouted. "Murderer!"

Luke found themselves knocked to the ground, the full weight of a person on top of them, the wind knocked out of their lungs by a couple of boots in their diaphragm. They wheezed, tried to reach for their lightsaber, but the green blade was ripped from their belt before they could touch it. Blaster bolts from their comrades rained down on their assailer, but the Tusken repelled them easily--until they were Force-pushed away, rolling into the sand a couple feet away, the lightsaber landing in other, but still decidedly Tusken hands, and a new, but still unknown Tusken warrior stepped into view.

Their presence rresonated in the Force like the eerie stillness of an Ocean deprived of currents. Luke rose from the sand, still disoriented, and was met with the green glow of a lightsaber.

"I am sorry, Jedi Master." the Tusken said, blank steel goggles bearing into Luke's eyes, cutting through skin and bone, trying to reach Luke's soul in the Force, while the green saber they held in their hand still hovered in front of Luke. "Please forgive what I'm about to do."

Then the Tusken spun on their heels, deactivated the lightsaber they were holding, and smacked the other Tusken over the head as an older siblings would with a younger one.

What followed was an animated, if insanely foul-mouthed by what Luke could understand by their rudimentary grasp of Tusken, conversation, and all Luke and their friends could do was to gape in utter bewilderment as the Tusken who had saved them chastised the one who had tried to kill them with the same severity of siblings arguing over a broken HoloTV.

"Um," Korian tried, tentatively putting away his blaster, "I take there's no danger anymore then? It was all a misunderstanding, Mr....Tusken Jedi?"

"That's really racist, man. Do you see me go around and call you Mr. Togruta twink?" the elder Tusken turned around and bit at Korian, still in flawless (if accented) Basic.

"Why does everybody keep harping on the twink part?" Korian grumbled, and Sanni patted him on the back.

"Told you so, kid. Just accept it."

"...I really have no other choice, have I?"

"You don't have to get called something you don't like, Kori." Luke supplied, trying to comfort their boyfriend.

"Thank you! See, Sanni? At least Luke gets it!"

"...But yeah, what you said was kinda racist."

"...Yeah, fair enough." Korian held up his hands. "You're right. I apologize."

"It is me who owes you all an apology." the younger Tusken turned to them, and they could now see that they were at least a foot shorter than the elder one, and thinner too. "My name is Hoar. Please forgive me. I mistook Jedi Master Skywalker for someone else."

"Please, just Luke. As leader of a slave rebellion, to be called 'Master' is kind of...uncomfortable" Luke smiled awkwardly, still nursing their hurt abdomen. "You're taking about Anakin, yeah?"

"You dress similar and look alike."

"Well, we happen to be related, though we've never met." Luke said, then their smile fell. "I could feel in the Force what he did here. You...you were there, young one, weren't you?"

The young Tusken's hands balled into fists. "Your blood slaughtered my tribe like animals, down to children younger than me. I was the sole survivor."

Beru grew pale. "Anakin did what?" then she slowly realized: "Did...did he do it because of Shmi's death?"

"It appears so," Luke said, trying to soothe Beru's horror with gentle waves of calm in the Force.

"I never knew. We...he never told us."

"I never did before coming here, either." Luke said, and bowed to Hoar. "I am sorry for your loss. I offer you my apologies, even if I know they cannot bring them back."

The young Tusken's hands unfurled again. "You're right. They can't. Nothing can." he said, dejected. "I just hoped...I just hoped you were him. So that I could confront him, make him feel the pain he made me feel. See his face, stare deep into his eyes, even if just to understand if he still had a soul."

"What he did...was inexcusable. Not even the death of his mother could warrant such a slaughter, especially dragging innocents into it."

"It is noble of you to recognize that." the elder Tusken handed Luke back their lightsaber, and unveiled two similar ones at their belt. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I am Hoar's teacher in the arts of the Force, and, you being even my elder in this path, I'd hoped for our first meeting to be a bit more civil. I tried to stop Hoar, but..."

"It's alright. I understand. I lost my family when I was a teenager too. It almost destroyed me. It took me a lot to understand the difference between revenge and justice."

Hoar shook. "It has been only months. I can still see their faces--his face. I know that wanting revenge is bad, if you follow the Jedi path, but--"

"Wanting justice is normal." Luke said. "I would never reproach you for that, and if I met Anakin, I would push him to make amends with you, Hoar."

"I did meet him. I was a Temple Jedi for a while, after I lost my father, my first Jedi teacher." the elder Tusken said, surprising Luke. A Jedi family? In this era? "I struggled as a boy with the difference between revenge and justice myself. Anakin...still has trouble understanding it."

"I can imagine." Luke said, then gave a curt bow to the elder Tusken. "May I ask your name, friend?"

Luke could almost hear the smile in the Tusken's words. "My name is A'Sharad Hett. I'm a Jedi, like my father before me."

The parallels struck Luke like a freight train ran by Gungan clowns.

"Same." they said, grinning. "Did you also get back to Tatooine and start a people's war because you think the Jedi of the Order of this era are a bunch of arrogant, uncaring dickheads fighting a sham war for an oppressive regime?"

"Oh, definitively." Hett said. "Though I don't recall ever seeing you at the Temple. I admit I'm only twenty-five and I trained there for barely ten years to complete my apprenticeship, so you might have left before I ever came to it...but you, Skywalker...you feel out of place."

Out of time, I would even say, Hett said in the Force.

Luke could only tell him the truth: Indeed. And not from a good future.

Darkness is clouding not just this place, but the whole Galaxy, Hett replied, This war is going to tear everything apart, isn't it?

No. It's going to be so much worse. An Empire is coming, Hett. And Empire ran by the reborn Sith. It destroyed all I knew in my time. 

And you seek to prevent its rise, I gather.

Yes. And bringing justice to the galaxy is the method I've chosen.

"My boyfriend says that just being a Jedi really helping people on Tatooine of all planets makes you out of place." Luke made a small smile, talking out loud once again. "So I guess we're both out of place, Hett. We are madmen in a galaxy where hatred and oppression are painted as sanity. I'm the child of a slave and I grew up helping escaped slaves. I grew up with the legend of Ka'Lir the breaker of shackles. It felt only natural, having mastered the Force and found myself back on my home world after so long, to help my people as Ka'Lir would have."

Hett seemed to mull over what Luke said before talking again. "Do you know that Ka'Lir is a Tusken word?" he then asked. "Ka'Lir the freedom-bringer, Ka'Lir the trickster, Ka'Lir the sky-walker, Ka'Lir of avenger. The spirit hero."

"And I suppose you are the Ka'Lir of the Tuskens, then."

"Indeed. But with another title."

"So I've heard." Luke said. "Ka'Lir Tar'yun. The name of the Krayt dragon from the Legend of Lehon. The guardian of the cave. The guardian of the people's refuge and sanctuary."

"You have done your homework, Lukka Ni'aversa'al."

"I suppose that the culture and tongue of the slaves borrowed heavily from the Tusken one, even if to your ears it must sound horribly mangled."

"A bit. But you are not the only one who decided to use the name in the pursuit of justice, Skywalker."

Luke's smile widened into a grin. "So we really do have more similarities than we first thought, then."

A'Sharad Hett chuckled, then sighed. "Tatooine is a fractured world. The Kumungah of the green forests and bright oceans of the Legend of Lehon are no more: we have become Tuskens, Jawa, and escaped slaves struggling in the sands away from settlers and slavers."

"We could heal this world, however. Make it whole and worth living on again, like in the Legend of Lehon. Give you Tuskens the reparations you are owed. Create a shared society where we can all participate together, equally, one founded on justice this time, instead of exploitation and misery." Luke said. "I have seen so much war already, A'Sharad. The only fight I wanna fight right now is that for justice, all over the galaxy if need be, so that none may need to fight again."

Hett rubbed the chin of his mask. "Your revolution was against those who were our oppressors also, and unknowingly you did us a favor. You are also a fellow Jedi, yet far readier than our Order counterparts ready to recognize wrongs, and make amends and reparations. There's...the beginning of a worthwhile conversation here." A'Sharad then extended a hand to Luke and their whole group. "We have camp not far from here. If you would like to join us, we may continue this conversation till it bears fruit."

Luke bowed again, but deeply this time. "It would be a honor."

 

-line break

 

It was a start. The assembly of the Tusken under A'Sharad's leadershil had agreed in accepting Luke's offer of reparations and a path towards a shared liberation movement and government. This meant it was only the start of a long series of debates over land rights, territorial sovereignity, and resource ownership, which would take months to conclude even after the fight was done.

All in all, they were thankful that at least Hett and Hoar could speak Basic, the language problem was already a hassle as it were.

"You see, there's the problem of trade." Sanni was saying at one point. "Of course, not needing to profit off mark-ups would make our prices not go nuts. But if you nationalize or socialize the resources and the economy, you run the risk of getting an embargo, of getting blacklisted from trade routes and foreign markets..."

"It is necessary however, to redistribute this wealth to the people," A'Sharad countered, "Scarcity and disparity breed anxiety, insecurity and loathing. So redistribution is key to a stable and healthy society that can better withstand the foreign shocks that you speak of..."

"Yes, but Tatooine's got almost no infrastructure. The cities import most of its consumptions..."

"The farmers will help. I've been a moisture farmer myself, I know how to get crops to yield the most with the smallest of water." Luke said. "That would solve the issue of water and food security."

A Tusken chief started protesting, and A'Sharad translated. "The farmers are one of the chief actors of invasion into our land, Luke. The tribes view them as water thieves."

"We just make water from the moisture in the air," protested Beru. "If the issue is the water, it can be redistributed provided the farms are made larger. And if the problem is the land, we can share it."

"Most Tusken tribes are nomadic."

"Well either we share this land or we divide and assign it."

"What if we eased this deal by combining redistribution and moving as many farms as we can closer to settlements?" interjected Luke. "Thereby lessening the impact on the land."

"Maybe combine the rest into way station settlements to make it easier for the tribes, to facilitate both water redistribution and trade." A'Sharad added. "It wouldn't be too bad."

"Indeed. What if we call a small break in the meantime?" Luke offered, and the Tusken chiefs voiced their agreement. Luke sighed, and rose from their rock to have a walk. Their head was hurting already, and this was just the pre-negotiation to negotiate on a framework for the actual coalition-building negotiations. And it all fell on them: the freed people behind them had basically accepted them as an informal leader because they were a walking weapon of mass destruction and the liberator of the slaves; the companions they had taken with them were considered leaders too, if a step behind them, due to the whole Ka'Lir deal. Basically, they'd won the position by their actions. Which was a problem. They were a bunch of working-class nobodies and freed slaves, being looked upon as absolute saviors with the power to do no wrong, and zero governmental capabilities. It felt daunting to Luke. They'd been a farmer, a soldier and then a scholar, not a leader and certainly not a politician. Sure, they'd picked up something from watching Leia, but they were nowhere near her level.

Leia.

Luke sank sat in the sand against a rock wall by themselves. They felt their hands shake, their legs begin to tremble. They could see her eyes, so desperate as they held hands for the last time before the Force pulled them backwards through time. The two of them had been the last one standing, standing in a mountain of corpses charred by lightning, while Sidious's horrible laughter echoed in the citadel arena.

Luke huddled their knees closer to their chest and pressed closer into the rock formation, trying to hide from the others. They couldn't see them this way. Ka'Lir could cry, but could not cower. Ka'Lir could never cower.

The last to fall had been her, shielding Luke from a lightning blast by her former Sith Master. The wild cloud of red hair enveloped her as she looked to Luke one last time with her sad jade eyes and whispered: I forgive you.

But Luke still couldn't forgive themselves. How could they? They'd failer her more than everyone else. And they'd failed everybody. Everybody--every--

"Ka'Lir?" thin yellow fingers broke through Luke's attack. "Luke?"

"I failed her," Luke repeated, even as the worried faces of Faala and Korian came into view. "I failed her."

"Luke, look at me." Korian knelt down and put his lefr hand on Luke's shoulder, taking their flesh hand into his right, and Luke felt tears stream down their face. "You're safe here. Feel the sand? Feel my hands? You're not back there. You're here. You're safe."

"Safe," Luke chuckled hollowly, and wiped their tears away. "I'm sorry that you had to see me this way. I rarely get PTSD attacks. I thought I'd hid from everyone..."

"Faala said she sensed you." Korian explained, and Luke blinked.

"What?"

"Ka'Lir." Faala knelt down next to Luke and Korian. "I...I could feel your distress in my head. Like before, in the canyon. I--I saw what you were seeing, before and now. Those people. Just flashes, but--none of us would think you a lesser person for crying and panicking at those memories. It's okay to cry. To be scared. Even for you."

Luke nodded dumbly, and allowed Korian to hug them and hold them close. Then they realized: "Wait. You--you said you saw what I was seeing."

Faala nodded. "I did. I--I think I have the Force, Ka'Lir, like you do."

"That's...wonderful." Luke beamed, but then their smile fell. "I'm...sorry you had to experience that, Faala."

"It's okay. I'm sorry that you had to live through it." Faala said. "Your secret is safe with me, Ka'Lir."

"Please," Luke grasped her hand. "Just call me Luke, at least when we're among us, okay? It's hard enough as it is, being erased, becoming a stranger in a strange land. I--I need myself to be someone I know."

"Okay, sorry." Faala said, and then turned serious, and shook Luke's hand with a smile. "Luke. It's a peasure to meet you. I'm Faala."

Luke chuckled. "Lucas George Skywalker." they said, and Korian snorted. "What?"

"No way that's your real name." Korian laughed, and Luke slapped his arm.

"Of course it is, you dick."

"But Luke is so cool! Lucas...and worse, George, make you sound like a...a...a nerd!"

"Says the slicer."

"...Touché. At least you didn't push the Twink Button."

"I would never willingly do something that makes you uncomfortable, darling." Luke pecked Korian's cheek, and the Togruta blushed.

"Uh, well, I'm glad you feel better anyway."

"I do." Luke smiled. "Thanks to you both." They said, then took a deep breath and got up. They leaned on Korian, holding hands as they walked. It felt weird, allowing themselves this intimacy after so long. Another relationship, in open defiance of the Jedi Code.

But fuck it. The Code had let them make the worst mistakes of their life, and since they were the Last Jedi, in their time...they could very well make their own Code.

They walked through the camp. It was a strange sight, seeing Tuskens and other Tatooinians finally breaking bread together after centuries of hostility.

But it was a good strangeness. And the fact that they soon found Sanni haggling with Tusken farmers over the price of black melons brought it all down to a level of...normalcy. Even Kitster had broken his own surliness to show the Tusken kids and youths some tricks with the new prosthethic arm they'd fitted him with.

The only outlier was, predictably, Boba. The boy sat by himself, his armor always on but unhelmeted, watching the Tusken kids with a distant look in his eyes.

"Kid's been like that the whole time." Korian whispered, and Luke nodded.

"I'll try and talk with him." they said. "Think you can keep an eye on everything?"

"Me and Faala? Sure. Just be careful not to get yourself shivved, Lucas."

"Har har."

"Yes, I love you too." Korian gave Luke a chaste kiss, and the Jedi was left alone with the Mandalorian. 

"Hey Boba," Luke said, sitting down in the sand with him. "How are you?"

"Just thinking." the boy said. "I cannot easily discern family ties among these Tuskens. The youths all feel lke...brothers to each other."

Luke looked at him softly. "You miss Kamino?"

"...Sometimes. My brothers...well, siblings, some of them turned out as girls growing up...they're all twice my age now. Accelerated growth. And it was always weird. They had my face, then my father's face. I know it's the same face, but..."

"It's okay if you miss them. Your father, your siblings." Luke said. "I had...many families, over time. I've been a child, a sibling, a parent. And every time, I've lost everything." Boba turned to look at them. Luke made a bitter smile. "Truth be told, I fucked it up. When I was young it seemed to me that I always ended up being right, that I could protect and save everyone I wanted because of my power, and so I thought I could do no wrong." Luke sighed. "But I fucked it up, and here I am now. And I miss all those people I lost. Because they were my whole world, just like Kamino and your father were yours."

Boba was silent for a moment. "Seems to me, Skywalker, that you Jedi have a tendency to fuck up people's families." Luke snorted, nodding in agreement, but Boba continued: "Mine, Hoar's, yours...well." Boba looked down. "You didn't choose to fuck it up." Luke turned to look at Boba, and Boba turned to look at Luke straight in the eye: "The Jedi fucked you up too, didn't they?"

Luke's smile fell with the noise of broken glass deep inside their soul. "Yes," they said, "They did."

"Is that why you make a big deal about a Jedi just being aomeone who helps others with the Force, and not...you know. Someone like those who fucked us up."

"It's trying to be one of those people after they'd fucked me up that led me to fuck up." Luke said, and then sighed. "So you know what? Fuck it. I'll make my own rules. Rules that allow me to look at myself in the mirror."

Boba nodded. "My father did the same thing." he cradled the helmet in his hands. "His armor...it's still too big for me. But I want to wear it someday. Become a man worthy of it. And...I want to free all my siblings."

"We will." Luke said, looking at him. "We will free everyone, Boba. Train. Learn. You will be a man worthy if that armor, in time, and you will make your father proud whatever path you choose." Luke added, and then thumped their fist over their heart. "This is the Way."

Biba looked at them funny. Luke shrugged. "When I still called myself a Jedi Master, I had a Mandalorian student. Me and his father got into plenty of crazy shit together."

"Thanks, I guess." Boba said, and then, helmet in hand, stood up. "I need a teacher, Skywalker. Will you be that teacher?"

Luke's heart tightened painfully. Could they do it? Could they be a teacher again, after they'd screwed up so bad?

But then they asked Boba: "Why would you want me to be your teacher, after all I've told you?"

"I do. And I do because you told me. I respect you, Skywalker." Boba said, and Luke nodded.

"I will do my best, then. Of course, even so, you are probably one of the best fighters here. I will not ask you to fight directly for our cause--"

"Why not? I have a stake in this too."

"--Because you are a child and it is right for you to enjoy life a bit before seeing war." Luke said. "I know you've killed before. It's just...this is much bigger. That's why I'd like to ask you to help me train the freed people, but...there's many children your own age who don't look like full-grown adults here. If you so wish, you have the right, the opportunity, to just be a kid for a while."

Boba looked back at the group of Tusken youngsters, where Hoar was now trying to show up Kitster using his abilities in the Force. 

"I'm used to be on the battlefield." said Boba. "But spending some more time here with the others...perhaps...it could be nice."

Luke kept sitting by themselves, even when Boba took his things and went to go with the other kids. Despite what they'd told Korian and Faala, that memory could not go away. Her green eyes would probably forever stay with them. And they were but a ghost now, a remnant of a dead, horrible future. Would they even exist anymore, if they succeeded in preventing that horrible future?

Luke watched Korian laugh with Faala and Sanni, watched A'Sharad Hett calmly and amusedly break up a fight between Hoar and Boba, watched Beru comfort Kitster over a story they couldn't listen to.

This one a long time have I watched. All their life they have looked away…to the future, to the horizon. Never their mind on where they were. Hmm? What they were doing.

Yoda's old words during their training on Dagobah under the ancient Jedi teacher struck a chord deep within Luke, and finally, after eleven years, they decided to take them to heart. What where they doing? They were building a better world for their people. It was a fight worth fighting. And it was enough.

With a lighter heart, they got up and walked back to their comrades.

 

-line break-

 

It took a few weeks of fighting before Tatooine' revoolution, with its alliance of freedpeople, Tuskens, and settlers could bear fruit. And the fruit they bore was the Peoples' Democratic Federation of Tatooine, with a Krayt Dragon surrounding the planet and its suns in circle in the upper left corner of their flag--a red flag. Soviets, people's and worker's assemblies would lead territories and enterprises, elected by the populace and electing representatives to the Common Assembly. In turn the populace would elect not only their representatives, but also a Revolutionary Central Commitee to manage the day to day affairs of the government. Democratic life was organized through the newly-formed Socialism and Liberation Revolutionary Movement-SOLIRMO, who put members to the test of the population before candidating them for office. In the end, the Central Committee was made up of Luke (or Ka'Lir, as they had taken to call themselves in communiqués to preserve their identity), as Chair with economic, foreigna affairs and military portfolios, Beru, as Commissar for Economic Development, Kitster, as Commissar for Labor and Worker's Rights, Faala as Commissar for Women and Minorities (these latter two sharing a portfolio for freed people's rights), A'Sharad as Vice Chair and Commissair for Tusken Affairs and Internal Security (the Tuskens tended to have tribal assemblies separate from the rest of the populace but still tended to send representatives to the Common Assembly), Sanni for Trade and Finance (and how hard she had laughed at that, being a former pirate and smuggler) with Jawa advisors for internal trade, with Korian and Boba serving as special advisors on the Committee.

Water and wealth were redistributed, reparations to the Tuskens were made, industries nationalized, and a massive program of converting former Hutt palaces in free housing, school, culture and hospital complexes was carried out. Jabba's money served them well, and so did the mines. They converted all the trade and pleasure ships they could spare into a planetary defense fleet, to protect their revolution for the moment when it would either be revealed or discovered, and spent time raiding slave ships all over the Outer Rim, robbing slavers and freeing slaves. They of course reunited them with their families, but more and more of them elected to join SOLIRMO. Some of them were especially eager to train The revolutionaries were more than happy to help, sending trained freedom fighters back yo their own planet to assist in their troubles while they waited to build their strength.

Until one day late in the year, when Cham Syndulla was alone in the forest, running from a Separatist homing spider droid. The Twi'Lek Resistance leader was done for, it seemed. Nobody knew the tropical forest as well as he did, but for every jump into a thicket, every trick slide between fallen trees, the spider droid only slowed down enough to prevent Syndulla from being immediately crushed between its legs. Its cannons couldn't get a lock on Syndulla, but it was a small blessing: Syndulla was tiring, and fast.

Panting hard, the resistance leader broke his run and darted behind a fallen tree. It was midday: the heat was getting unbearable, and he was getting on the heat and humidity screwing up the droid's sensors.

It was a small hope, and he knew it: so he took out his blaster pistol, and prepared to face death like a man. His prayers went to Eleni, his wife, and their daughter Hera. He prayed they would survive and live in a free Ryloth.

But the spider droid did not go for him. Instead, it paused, waiting. Then it slowly started turning in the opposite direction to Syndulla, as if its sensors had spotted something. 

Then the blaster fire started. A barrage of infantry-intensity blaster fire hit the droid from opposite circling directions, and a group of figures darted out of the trees, shooting at the droid, all dressed in the same way: an orange overcoat over muted a blue-and brown combat uniform, a red scarf, and a mask with a respirator. Two were green skinned, a Togruta male and a Twi'Lek female, wielding blaster rifles and seemingly laying down distraction fire, while another yellow-skinned Twi-Lek threw chunks of rock and ground at the droid, smacking into its legs and casing and making sparks fly out.

But the droid did not fall, and instead fired shots from its blaster cannons at the unknown party: then came the fourth figure, a blond Human. They ran straight at the droid right between its blaster bolts, igniting a green lightsaber and slicing both cannons off in one move. The droid recoiled in shock, the yellow-skinned Twi-Lek sending bigger chunks of rock straight into the droid's shell. The droid cried out, stumbled backwards, and then the green-skinned Twi'Lek slippled out from behind hit and signaled for her comrades to run. Moments later, the droid exploded from the inside, circuits and metal turned to slag.

"Good work, team. Oola, Faala, nice coordination with the rocks and the explosives. Riri, you helped." the Human addressed their comrades, deactivating their lightsaber.

Riri, seemingly the Togruta man, shrugged. "Fair's fair. I'm not a Jedi like you guys."

"Jedi?" Cham Syndulla tentatively stepped out of his hiding spot, blaster still drawn.

"Easy, we're all friends here." the Human said. "We were looking for you, General Syndulla; you're quite the inspiration."

"Who are you?" Syndulla said, not lowering his blaster. "You don't look like Jedi. And those aren't Jedi tactics."

"We're rebels." Faala said. "Only some of us are Jedi, but of a different kind anyway."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I am Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al, sibling of Ka'Lir Tar'yun, representative of Free Tatooine." the Human said, and then gestured to the rest of the group. "These are my lovely partner Riri and our comrades Faala and Oola: they insisted on meeting you this way, General."

The two Twi'Lek females unmasked, revealing themselves as twin sisters. "As a freedom fighter, you are a hero to all Twi'Leks, General Syndulla." the green-skinned one, Oola, said. "Especially those of us who...were enslaved for a time."

"Tatooine and its revolution may be our home now, but we want to hell Ryloth in its liberation struggle." said Faala. "It is still our home, our birthplace. How could we stand to see it plagued by war, oppression and slavers?"

"Well, we have that in common at least." Syndulla commented, putting his sidearm away. "I have heard rumors about Tatooine. There's been so much talk of violence and radicalism about you...socialists."

Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al stepped forward. "Violence is a necessary component of revolution, sir. You know that as well as us. And when your world is plagueg by the paragon of injustice, you of course seek the most radical justice that can there be. Because the point is cutting out the source of injustice at the root, after all."

Syndulla weighed the Ka'Lir's words, and nodded. "I suppose I can't fault your reasoning. After all, if this war even ends, I'll just be back fighting Orn Free Taa and the corrupt interests he brings here from his Coruscanti friends."

"That is why we are here. To propose an alternative." Ka'Lir said. "You've been doing this for years, since before our own revolution. But Ryloth is too small against the corruption of the Republic and the hypocrisy with which it treats us of the Outer Rim."

Syndulla scowled. "You propose an alliance, then." Syndulla said, and crossed his arms. "You do realize that there are Republic troops all over the planet already, their Senate demanding a continued occupation even after victory under the pretense of 'defense'. I don't want a third foreign army breathing down my neck."

"And I respect your wishes. They are just. What I propose is instead an exchange: mutual help."

"Meaning?"

"We will send each other fighters, to train and learn from each other. And we oblige ourselves to smuggle you economic and military aid according to means and needs. In return, we ask for Ryloth, once free, to join an alliance to end this war without either faction winning. After all, as you pointed out, both would be a detriment to the people they are 'protecting'. We need a new paradigm, free of exploitation and imperialism." Ka'Lir said, and extended a hand towards their fellow revolutionary. "And I can think of no other person that I would more gladly consider my comrade in this effort."

"So you want to rebel against both the Republic and the Separatists." Cham Syndulla smirked, and took Ka'Lir's hand. "Well then, Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al. If that is your goal, then comrades we shall be."

"The honor," said Ka'Lir, "Is all ours."

 

-line break- 

 

21 BBY, hyperspace between Chelli Minor and Tatooine

 

"Well...Luke Skywalker, it seems you really delivered." the hologram of Cham Syndulla spoke in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. "The data on the Separatist weapons systems you sent us came with the full override chain code for Wat Tambor's invasion army. As of now, not a single droid or CIS force is active or out of our detention. I really must thank you."

"That's what comrades are for, General Syndulla." Luke said. "I trust the Republic didn't bother you too much either, with all their present internal squabbles."

"You engineered quite a squabble with the IGBC heist, I must say." Syndulla chuckled. "I did not expect you to be so knowledgeable in economics."

"I was a moisture farmer before being a soldier and a Jedi. Economics is what I breathe." Luke shrugged.

"But yes, we managed to negotiate the transfer of Wat Tambor from out prisons to theirs in exchange for complete withdrawal of Republic forces from Ryloth. With their economical situation, they need all the propaganda boosts they can get."

"I am happy for you and your people. I trust Faala and Oola have done good work in your care?"

"Quite so, yes. Having Force-users fighting with us, especially such unorthodox ones, was an edge that saved more than once in these months. Oola has elected to remain here as liason, and my wife Eleni has been helping her look for helr family. Faala...I am sad to see her go, but I understand her government post on Tatooine and her Jedi training take precedence, in these grave times." Syndulla sighed, and then added: "I had surmised that the name you gave me once was a title or a nom de guerre, and it was enough for me. Why trust me now with your own name?"

Luke smiled. "Because they are both my name, General. Ka'Lir is a title, yes, but Ni'aversa'al just means Skywalker in the tongue of the Tuskens and the slaves. So, you've always known my real name."

"Ingenious." Syndulla commented with a smile of his own. "Very well, Comrade Skywalker. Ryloth will soon declare its complicity in the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance. Perhaps it will spur more neutral worlds into joining our cause, like Mandalore."

"Let us hope so, Comrade Syndulla. And may the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you too, Comrade Skywalker."

Luke closed the transmission, and then let out a loud yawn.

"Someone's sleepy." Korian's beautiful lilt called from the corridor, and then the Togruta's dazzling smile popped into the cockpit, dressed only in a pair of pants, and promptly plopped himself in Luke's lap, one arm over the Jedi's shoulders. "Did you really have to drag yourself out of bed early for that call?"

Luke put their robot arm around Korian's waist, and yawned again. "Sorry, couldn't sleep, and couldn't bear to wake you up."

Worry clouded Korian's features. "It's always the nightmares, isn't it?"

"I've been having nightmares about traumatic stuff since I was nineteen. Over time, the whole show just gets...variety." Luke looked out into hyperspace. "They never quite go away."

"Hey," Korian said, cupping Luke's cheek and bringing their eyes to face him, "I get it. You haven't been exactly understressed lately even. It's been barely weeks since..."

"Zygerria?"

"Yeah." Korian shuddered. "That stuff was scary."

"You were awesome, though." Luke kissed Korian's hand with a smile, and Korian shived him, his green skin growing darker in a blush.

"Don't try to divert the subject, flyboy. I know all your tells and this is as evident as any."

"You really wanna talk about my nightmares, huh?"

"I just wish you'd undestand you can always talk to me about this stuff if you need to. I know you know it, but often you seem to forget it."

"We're always doing this or that," Luke said. "I don't want to blemish what little free time we have with my awful memories."

"Luke, I've seen your memories. It's scary stuff, yes, but they don't make you a burden if you want to share them. We're a couple. We help each other." Korian rubbed Luke's cheekbone with his thumb, tracing a circle. "I don't want to make you feel forced to tell me. I just want to be the person you can count on, always."

Luke leaned into Korian's touch and grasped his hand, gently squeezing it. "And you are, Kori. You always are. It's just..." Luke sighed. "Sometimes it's the war. Sometimes it's my father. Sometimes it's...her. Sometimes it's seeing all my family friends die, and sometimes it's not my family and friends from my time. Sometimes it's...you and the others."

Korian's lips pressed tightly together. "We can make it, Luke." He smiled, and then pressed his lips to Luke's forehead. "The future is unwritten. And...I'm sure you're making them all proud, with what we are doing. Even her."

Luke smiled softly, and laid their head on Korian's chest. "You would have liked her  Kori. She'd have teased you mercilessly, like Sanni, sure, but...she had a real kindness, underneath all the barbed wire."

"I'm used to the teasing by now. And...yeah, I saw glimpses of it. I'd have just been...you know, scared of the ruthless competition."

Luke chuckled. "Well, we actually never minded sharing."

"Hey, I like open relationship myself as much as any other polyamorous person." Korian chuckled. "Sometimes it just...well. Feels hard to measure up to."

Luke shook their head. "You don't have to measure up to anything, Kori. An equal partnership: it's the point of being a couple." they said, and kissed Korian on the lips. "So whenever you're feeling down, or insecure...remember, I'm here for you as much as you are here for me."

"Thanks, Luke." Korian kissed them back, and then laid his head on top of Luke's. "ETA says it's still five hours of hyperspace before reaching Tatooine." he said, glancing at the navcomputer while Luke caressed his bare chest. "You wanna get back to the bed?"

"Sure. I'm always up for some cuddles."

"Well then I'll get off you so we can walk--whoah!" Korian yelped as Luke got up--nonchalantly lifting the taller Togruta bridal style. "Gods, Lucas. I keep forgetting your biceps are bigger than mine." he said, holding onto Luke's with his arms, while Luke chuckled.

"Well, it's not just that, it's also core strength and..."

"...And cheating with the Force?"

"Babe, you might be taller but I've carried bigger and heavier Sith cyborgs without the Force when I was still a twenty-three-year-old twink."

"Well then why don't you show me what else can that 'core strength' do?" Korian said, and playfully bit Luke' ear, making the Jedi blush as they entered the bedroom.

"Damn straight I'm gonna do it."

"Ain't nothin' 'straight' about this situation, Lucas--"

"Alright, teasing is one thing, but I draw the line at stealing my jokes--"

"What if I bribe you with a date?" Korian said, wrapping his arms around Luke's waist and kissing him. "We can take the day off from Committee duty and just have some fun."

"Bribing a government official? My, that's so naughty, Korian Maas." Luke said, kissing him back. "You sure are a scoundrel...and we punish them scoundrels on Tattooine." 

"Oh no, so terrible," Korian mocked, and Luke rolled their eyes.

"Yes, you're as much of a moron as I am." Luke said, and then gave Korian a kiss on the neck that made the Togruta keen. "And I love you all the more for that."

"Mmmm" moaned Korian as they both slid into bed. "Love you too."

 

-line break-

 

Later, when they finally landed on Tatooine, Luke and Korian got out of the ship hand in hand, geinning like a couple of schoolgirl--until they turned around and saw the small yacht that had parked next to them on the landing platform, and Luke's froze in place.

Count Dooku and Asajj Ventress had just stepped off the ship, and were looking straight at them.

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me." Luke groaned.

 

Notes:

And the plot thickens!
A'Sharad Hett is an actual EU chracter from the Legends Continuity: a Tusken Jedi who fell to the dark side after Order 66 and became a Sith Lord by the name of Darth Krayt. Hoar is one of his Force apprentices from that same continuity, and they both have met Luke Skywalker in it. However, I wanted to put my spin on him. Luke's revolution couldn't otherwise have been coherent, without the inclusion of the Tuskens. After all, slavery and colonization aren't very different from each other, and any good socialist would naturally fight against both.
So yeah, talky chapter. I love writing fight scenes where crazy stuff happens, but I also love scenes in media when two characters just sit down and talk about their feelings. It felt really good to write this. I hope you liked it, and whatever your thoughts are about it and the story so far, I hope you write them in the comments. I always love interacting with readers and getting feedback.
Of course, this chapter ends with a cliffhanger. To know what happens next, you'll have to check in next Thursday, but I can meanwhile provide you with a small teaser for the next chapter:

"Welcome to Dathomir," Asajj Ventress spoke as the group landed on the barren, red planet. "Ass end of the Force."
"I'm not even Force-sensitive, yet even I can see that." Korian shivered. They where on top of a canyon, and yet the wind seemed to scream and screech as if they where inside the canyon.
"Eh. I've seen worse." Luke shrugged. "So, who exactly are we here to visit?"
Ventress sighed. "My mother."

Chapter 6: Take a walk on the dark side

Summary:

In this chapter, we find out about the consequences of Luke's little stunt against Dooku and Ventress back in the first chapter...and we set up the insanity of the next one >:D

Chapter Six: Take a walk on the dark side

 

21 BBY, Tatooine. SOLIRMO headquarters

 

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

A'Sharad Hett did not consider himself a disbelieving man. His whole life had been steeped in Tusken mysticysm and Jedi lore. But when he walked into the SOLIRMO Revolutionary Central Committee meeting room with his usual cup of blue milk coffee in hand, he spat the milk right out of his mask-opening.

"I can assure you, Jedi Hett, your eyes do not deceive you." replied Count Dooku, sitting in at their table as if it wasn't the weirdest sight ever. "Though I'd appreciate better language from a former Jedi."

"Yeah, no, you're a war criminal. You can go fuck yourself." A'Sharad said. He slid into his seat, mug in hand and one lightsaber in the other--unignited, but present to show Dooku and his apprentice Ventress (who for some reason pointedly refused to look at Luke, who had their head planted firmly into the table) that he wanted no funny business.

"Yeah, motion seconded." said Kitster from his own seat, blaster in his hand.

"Thirded." drawled Sanni, lazily cleaning her own pistol.

"Fourthed." said Korian, thumbing a thermal detonator.

"Sleemo can go toss himself in the sarlacc for all I care." said Beru, aiming a slugthrower right at the Count's head.

"I'm actually neutral, he and my Dad were coworkers." shrugged Boba, but he still had his vibroblades out.

"I'm just confused." confessed Hoar, and Luke banged their head against the table with a groan.

"You couldn't choose ANY other day, could you, Dooku?"

"I was under the impression your ultimatum last time was serious, Skywalker."

"Yes, but I literally just got back here from giving it to you." Luke bit, rubbing their eyes out. "Me and Kori were hoping to take the day off, you know? Go on a date, get some blue milk pancakes..."

"Should have figured you were gay when you gave me your shirt without looking at my boobs." Ventress grumbled under her breath, and Luke gasped in outrage.

"First of all, we literally all heard what you just said." Korian said, then shrugged. "But if it helps, we're actually both pansexual, and they actually are some impressive boobs."

"And second of all--no, scratch that, it's way more important--since when showing common courtesy to an opponent makes you gay?" Luke protested. "What backwards cultural stereotypes of machismo have you been dipped in, woman?" 

"Believe me, you wouldn't wanna know." Ventress scoffed. "But unfortunately, it ties back to the reason we're here. See, we've given some thought to what you told us when you...robbed us." Ventress cut in, bringing the conversation back on track. "Because we thought about it...and we figured you were right."

Silence fell in the room, awkward and tense. Faala raised her hand to break it: "...I feel like we need more context."

Dooku sighed and explained: "I went to Chelli Minor, knowing Ventress had trapped Skywalker, hoping to turn them to the dark side of the Force and make them our ally. But your leader--"

"Comrade."

"--Skywalker, please do not interrupt me--"

"No, it's a matter of principle. I'm an elected leader, but I get the same salary as any other worker. I'm just the chair of a committee, not someone to be put above the rest of the people."

"Alright." Dooku said through gritted teeth, and continued: "Your comrade made a very convincing case that whatever ideals I may have had in joining the Sith and founding the Confederacy of Indipendent Systems ultimately fell by the wayside because...well."

"Because it's ran by Sith and capitalists, and answers to Palpatine just like the Republic?" A'Sharad drawled, and Dooku stiffened. "Yeah, we all knew the basics of this, Dooku. And you really think you can just defect to us of all people after realizing the error of your ways? Your hands aren't exactly clean."

"I know all too well they are not. You think all the blood that has been spilled already doesn't weigh on me, young man?" Dooku said. He sounded just...tired. As if all the fight had left him and only shards of wounded pride remained. "I tried for years to find other ways, working as a Jedi against the corruption of the Order and the Senate, fruitlessly. I thought that the Empire he's trying to build would bring order, an order I could then use and finally mold into a fairer Galaxy when the time would have come for me to replace him, as per the rules of the Sith." he explained. "But Skywalker has shown to me the fruitlessness or it. It's true that I have enough influence in the Separatist Parliament to push forward a peace deal. But the corporate elites were Palpatine's pawns way before they were my allies, and Grievous...well, he is a sociopath. He lives only for war, for its brutality and his hatred against the Jedi, and he is way more obedient to my Master than he would be to me if I openly rebelled." he added. "So I thought it was best to help you from the shadows while the CIS is in disarray due to your recent moves. The less information we provide Palpatine with, the harder he'll be able to formulate countermeasures."

"And what exactly do you ask for in exchange?" A'Sharad asked. "You deserve prison for what you have done so far, Dooku, at the minimum. And at your age...it would be a life sentence."

"Fair enough. All I ask is for my apprentice to be spared the same fate." Dooku said, and Ventress turned sharply towards him, a look of surprise on her face, but did not talk. "In exchange, I will help you in any way you need against my former master."

"And you don't mind going to prison."

Dooku shrugged. "Neither you nor the Jedi have a prison that would really hold me. Besides, do you really wish to hold me on your beloved planet, Hett? I might...pose a danger to your people." the ghost of a smile crossed Dooku's lips, and Luke stepped in again.

"Or...you could take a look at what we've built here, and decide you'd rather choose rehabilitation and community service." the rebel said with another smug smile.

"...You really believe it is safe for me to walk around your world, Skywalker?" 

"Eh, if you wanted to harm someone, you would have done so already. Plus, I already beat you once." Luke shrugged. "But furthermore, I think you could learn something from Tatooine and the society we have developed here. Perhaps you'd learn not to be a cynical moron trusting obviously evil people." Luke added, and then slung an arm over Korian's shoulders. "And most important of all, as I said before I had promised Korian a date."

"And now you want to drag two former Sith around with us on it." Korian grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Awww, come on sweetheart, it'll be fun. They're adorable, he's like her gramps. We can take them with us to get those blue milk pancakes."

Korian smirked. "Well, they sure need all the sweetnes they can get, 'cos they got none of their own." he said, enjoying the glares the two darksiders sent his way.

"This is a political embarassment," protested A'Sharad, "We just got Ryloth to join the Alliance, what will Cham Syndulla say when he'll find that the main ally of his world's invaders has become our ally?"

"He just has everything to gain from Dooku's redemption, just like us." replied Luke. "Or we'll just convince him with pancakes like Dooku."

"Yeah, blue milk pancakes are the best." said Korian, and A'Sharad wanted to tear off his own face then and there.

"Oh for Force's sake--can't you two think about anything else right now?!"

"I also would not mind pancakes, teacher." Hoar said in a cheerful tone, raising a hand.

"Don't you betray me in this way, apprentice." A'sharad groaned.

"Serves you right for wanting to keep discussing when we break for lunch in twenty minutes anyway." Kitster giggled.

"Well, wouldn't be a bad idea to take a break." Beru said. "We could go for pancakes together."

"Yeah, I propose going to Gorrrt's! His pancakes are the best!" Boba said.

"No way! Shanna's are way better!" Hoar said. "They make this syrup with black melon, it's out of this world!"

"And I am in Hell." A'Sharad said, leaning on the table with his head in his hands. "I need to get drunk."

"Joke's on you, I've been drunk since this meeting started." laughed Sanni, and took another swig of her flask. "But pancakes are the best, to wash this liquor down with the spotchka."

"Then let us all go get pancakes!" proclaimed Luke, jumping on the table.

"Pancakes!" Boba cheered, jumping on the table himself, and pumping out his arms to burst flames from both is vambraces in open joy.

And then the door creaked open. It was Faala. "Uuuuuuh...what did I miss?"

 

-line break-

 

 

In the end, they decided to go to Shanna, if only because Hoar talked A'Sharad into it 'Because teeeeaaaaaaacheeeeeeeerrrrrrr, shouldn't good Tusken support Tusken businesses and she's also like our seventh or ninth cousin thrice removed so we were in the tribe together it's always nice to see her and so on' until A'Sharad finally caved in to his apprentice's puppy dog eyes.

How Tuskens could do puppy dog eyes with a mask on was still a mystery to their comrades, but incredibly, Hoar always managed to pull it off (and Boba had bribed him into giving him lessons to learn to pull it off with an helmet on, to boot).

And so, the odd group consisting of two former Sith, Human and Zabrak, a moisture farmer, a freed slave cyborg, two rogue Jedis and their apprentices (one pair of which Tusken to boot), and the league rogue Jedi's slicer boyfriend, walked in to Shanna's Tusken Delicacies.

"Good morning." A'Sharad grumbled in Tusken to the head cook, the titular Shanna, the lone eeyore in a group that ranged from the enthusiastic, to the blithe, to the drunk off their ass, and finally to the utterly confused.

"Good morning," Shanna replied in Tusken to the bereaved Commissar as the group went to get the biggest booth and A'Sharad went to her counter to order. "Have you been drinking, Ka'Lir Tar'yun? And on working hours to boot?"

"..."

"I can smell the alien stuff on you. Coruscant was never a good influence, it gave you bad habits. You should stick to black melon wine, Gods know what the aliens put in their stuff."

A'Sharad facepalmed. "I appreciate the concern, Shanna, but I'm twenty-six. I can take care of my health."

"Nonsense. I haven't seen you in weeks. It's nice and all that you take the time to personally visit each tribe in every settlement and stations, from the sedentary like us to the newly nomadic like that of Cousin Burr, but you should really take care to rest and unwind more. Otherwise it's no wonder you'll end up drinking during working hours! Sometimes I think it's a miracle you didn't drive yourself to drink after you'd just got the mantle of Ka'Lir."

"Look, Cousin Shanna, I am an adult, alright? I can crush buldings with my mind."

"Well so can Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al and they at least had rhe decency to settle down with a nice young man. When are you going to, huh?"

"Oh, by the Gods--"

"In fact, why don't you ask Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al out? Wouldn't even be too hard, they have an eye for twinks already and you are quite a--"

"For Force's sake, Cousin Shanna, we have had this conversation countless times, none of us knows what the other looks like under the masks, drop this 'twink' bit. I am taller and bigger than Skywalker's boyfriend, who is far taller and bigger than Skywalker too--"

"Yeah but you're, like, still in prime twink age. And Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al is, like, eight years older than you and more experienced--"

A'Sharad rubbed his hands over his mask, then glanced at the table where Luke was trying not to keel over from laughter, and regretted ever teaching the older Jedi the finer nuances of the Tusken language beyond the similarities with the slaves' tongue. Hoar too was holding his sides in utter glee at his predicament, adding betrayal upon betrayal to A'Sharad's humiliation.

"Huuuh...what's wrong, babe?" Korian asked in confusion, trying to hold Luke up as the Jedi kept laughing.

"Just realized you two have more in common than you know." Luke chuckled, and wiped a tear from their eye. "Force, my ribs hurt."

"Oh." Korian realized. "OH." he said again, and then pumped his fist out at A'Sharadal. "So now you know how it feels huh, asshole?!"

"Fuck you, jerk!" A'Sharad gave him the finger, and Luke burst into laughter once again. Sanni realized herself was they were talking about, and choked on her alcohol flask from the giggles.

"Do any of you understand what is going on?" Ventress asked, confused.

"I've long since given up on those two." Beru sighed.

"I think I know, but I won't tell." Faala said, smug.

"They've been at it since they first met. It' just priceless." Kitster snickered

"They are idiots." Boba stated, inspecting his helmet.

"Twink idiots." stated Shanna, still talking in Tusken, and sighing. "Look, Cousin A'Sharad, just order. You don't look like you're eating properly, and if you keep it up, you'll end up looking as more and more of a twink as you go along. And you don't look like you want that, do you?"

"...Fine." A'Sharad grumbled. "I'll take the Bantha steak. And your pancakes."

"Good boy."

A'Sharad groaned. "What do you guys want?" he sighed, turning to the others in Basic. "I'll translate your orders."

"Me and Luke are gonna take blue milk pancakes, a salad, and also nerfburgers, but double portion since we skipped breakfast." Korian said, and batted his eyes at A'Sharad. "And can I too get Tusken lessons from you, by the way, Ash?"

"...I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." A'Sharad stated turning to Hoar. "What about you, my traitorous apprentice?"

"Bantha burgers and blue milk pancakes, teacher." the teenager replied without a care in the world for his crimes.

"Stop feigning innocence, there's almost more Sith in you than in the old coot." A'Sharad grumbled. "Next?"

"I'll take blue milk and dewback ribs." Beru said.

"I'd like blue milk pancakes and a salad." Faala smiled, and Kitster stopped looking at her and blushed.

"Uh, what she said."

"I'll take the biggest pot of coffee you have," called Sanni, "Along with eggs, bacon and beans. Oh, and two portions of pancakes."

"I'll take Bantha steak and these famous 'blue milk pancakes' you guys are all raving about." Asajj said. "I trust you'll do the same, Master?"

Count Dooku stiffened. "Fine. But I'll take a salad instead of the steak." he looked at Boba, curiously eyeing the kid. "Wait. Are you the Fett boy?"

"The same." Boba said, without taking his eyes off the menu. "I'll take nerfburgers and blue milk pancakes, I guess."

"This is all rather odd." Dooku said. "What are you doing here among Jedi?"

"Oh I don't know, how about you left me on Geonosis after my dad died? Same dad who was your best employee and whom you paid to create Palpatine's army of clone slaves?" the boy said with a sickeningly innocent smile, and Dooku coughed in embarassment, deciding to drop the matter. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Had to get picked up by Cad Bane and ended up working for Jabba when these guys turned up. Guy was a psycho."

"And you're a Mandalorian, which is saying a lot." Hoar said.

"And you're a Tusken, which is saying everything." Boba shot back.

"Whatever. When I get a lightsaber I'm gonna wipe the floor with you, shorty."

"I can wipe the floor with you all the same, beanpole."

"Kids." Luke beamed at Dooku. "They really are the future, aren't they?"

Dooku resigned himself. There was no escaping Luke Skywalker's brand of crazy.

 

-line break-

 

"The pancakes were quite good," Dooku commented later, watching Skywalker and their rogue Jedi use the Force to help a group of workers to assemble a house of all things, "But why are we now watching you do construction work?"

"Why not?" Korian said, helping a group of workers unload a truck of crates. "After all, you're an old man, aren't old people supposed to like watching construction sites?"

"You are wasting precious time! There's a war going on out there--"

"Yeah, and 'cos there's a war going out there on there's gonna be a lot of refugees from Zygerria comin' in, and their homes aren't gonna build themselves." a Nikto worker said from the top of the building site, pointing his tools at Dooku. "Do ya got a problem with that, Mr. Fancy Cape?"

No, Dooku did not have a problem with that. He had probably had a hand in creating some of those refugees, after all.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Could well come here and help us instead of staring." she muttered, returning to her welding, and small tendrils of flame reached from A'Sharad hand to help her. "Oh. Thanks, Comrade Hett."

"No problem, Comrade Vasna." A'Sharad replied, using his other hand to fly more crates of connecting joints to Vasta's position. Luke gave him a whistle in mock challenge, and lifted a whole precast section of building into the structure as if it was nothing. "Are you challenging, me, Luke?"

"Come onnn, Ash. I know you like to showboat too, deep down." Luke said. "Leave the small stuff to the younglings. Adults should take care of the hardest parts."

"Well, alright. You aren't wrong." A'Sharad walked to Luke, matching the Human with another prefab section. Luke smirked, and raised him two.

Faala pouted. "Ka'Lirs, can I join?"

"It wouldn't be wise, Padawan." A'Sharad said. "It's only so early in your training--"

"Yeah, but still, we'd only got past the lifting rocks thing when you departed for Ryloth." Luke said. "I'm sure you can try, but it's a big stress on the body."

"Weeelll...what if I told you I flipped a tree on a tank?"

"Really?! It took me months to manage to do something like that! Now I wanna see." Luke grinned from ear to ear, and A'Sharad shrugged.

"Alright, kid, but this is cast concrete, not a tree. Would you accept Hoar's help just to be safe?"

"Sure, no problem." Faala bit back her smile. 

"Good." Luke said. "And we'll come in if you feel you're not managing, alright? Just to prevent everyone from getting hurt."

"Count on us, teachers." Hoar beamed, and put out his hands together with Faala. Slowly, inch by inch, another precast section rose from the ground and started floating towards Vasta and her coworkers.

"Well, faster and safer than a crane, it seems." one of them cracked, and Vasna took time to wipe the sweat from her brow with the back of her glove.

"Darn teenagers." she said, but she had a smile on her face.

Faala's own smile widened as the section floated even higher, but she could feel her muscle straining already. She breathed hard, and felt Hoar breathe even harder. Ka'Lir had been right. This was heavy, heavier than she'd anticipated. And repeatedly shooting rocks at your enemies wasn't that similar to carefully lifting heavy pieces of building in a way that would injure nobody. Dank Farrik, it was getting hard. Hoar was straining just as she was if not more. She felt one of her knees buckle--

--And nothing happened. The section continued upwards as if nothing was wrong. She glanced at Ka'Lir, but it hadn't been their Force presence lending help.

No, it was Dooku who stood with his hand outstretched, gently easing the precast on its designed together with her and Hoar.

"There. Nobody was hurt." Dooku muttered, and earned himself a whistle from Vasna.

"So ya did help then, Mr. Fancy Cape." the woman chuckled. "What, you some kind of Jedi man like the Comrades here?"

"Once." Dooku said, even if he could feel a distinct touch of pride in the Force, directed from Skywalker to himself, at Vasta's suggestion. "Now I'm just a...friend of theirs, I should say?"

"Well, I hope you aren't leaving too soon!" said another worker, a Human around Kitster's age. "Whenever Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al or Ka'Lir Tar'Yun pop by to help on a worksite or a business, it's always the best. We get to slow down and rest a bit while they take care of the heavy lifting."

"Psh. As if you needed excuses to go and sit on your ass, Cobb Vanth." Vasta snorted, giving a playful slap on the arm to the young man, who only nodded at the comment.

"Hell yeah, 'cos I got my freedom now. I may do this job for an actual salary, I don't have to pay any bills, I vote on how my workplace is run, but breaks? Breaks are still the best part of work, Vasta."

"Yeah, alright, I was freeborn, so I can't blame you." Vasta shrugged. "But it's true. Having space wizards lighten the workload is hella nice."

Space wizard. Dooku harrumphed in his head. Yes, he supposed this was how the Galaxy viewed his kind. But still, helping those workers, and the Padawans, and seeing how happy they were for it...Force. This all sounded like a much, much simpler life.

 

-line break-

 

In the end, Ventress too joined in helping, but when they were done and awaing the Commisars' return (in Mos Eisley's first public park, no less, kept under a careful biome), she felt an immense sadness from her Master.

The park was quite big, occupying the town's biggest city plaza, and it was full of areas for kids and teens to play in, and for adults and elderly people to sit together. It wasn't properly green, even--but it easily was the greenest part she had seen on this planet where she didn't even know if rains could occur. It was just so filled with life, so much that she could feel the Light prick at every corner of their being and the Dark coiling in quiet stillness, as if even the blackedt thoughts could find peace of mind in such a joyful place.

It made her wary, confused, and a little dizzy, except that she couldn't really say she was nauseated. It made her think of happier times, of her apprenticeship until her first Master...and she hadn't thought of Ky Narec in quite a lot. Yes, she realized. It made her sad too. Was Dooku sad because of similar reasons?

She wouldn't risk asking. Dooku had never once talked about his past, only mentioning a few scant times that they'd been both betrayed by the Jedi and suffered for it.

"The people here are just so...honest." Dooku said in the end. "They help people not out of greed or duplicity, but because they believe it's the most natural thing to do." the ancient warrior looked down at his wizened hands, and Ventress could feel her Master bent down by the weight of his eight decades. "This is how the Jedi were supposed to be, Asajj. This is how they were told they were, and how I tried to be...and yet they are here. Force-sensitives and Force-nulls alike being far truer to the Jedi teachings than the Order could ever claim to be, in what was once the poorest and more backwards planet of the Galaxy. I tradeded one lie for another, all thanks to Sidious." his deep, booming voice still retained that dignity, that deepness...but it wavered on the odd syllable in the odd period, as if Dooku had started feeling things buried so deep he'd thought them dead. "And...I'm sorry for drawing you up into this lie, Asajj."

"You did...and did not." Asajj replied with a sigh. "I was an angry girl needing a purpose in life and you gave me one. I'd lost my father figure, and you gave me one. Sure, you were harsh, but this is what I expected the dark side to be, and you weren't...cruel for cruelty's sake, like the slavers were. You were a good teacher, and you decided to be honest with me in the end."

"I don't know if I could have brought myself to kill you, if Palpatine--Sidious--had ordered me to do it." Dooku admitted. "I have had to slay so many friends for him. I have become so numb to death, to life." he took a deep breath. "I came here because I wanted to be proven wrong. I came here because I wanted to see that life still had meaning."

"Meaning?" a chuckle from their side, and they watched A'Sharad Hett stroll to the side of their bench, hands in the pockets of his longcoat. "I think that the old 'meaning of life' question is quite superfluous, you know." he said, sitting right next to them uninvited. "To me, life is something that shouldn't feel painful, or make you feel numb. Life has a reason to be lived only if it makes you feel alive."

Dooku made no attempt to guard himself. He merely asked: "How much did you hear?"

"Most of it, but I won't tell a soul. Luke's probably picked up on it way before that you vocalized it all." the Tusken replied. "So, you seem to like our project."

Dooku chuckled. "The park or the planet?"

"The park is just the first step for the planet." A'Sharad said. "Me and Luke studied the Force extensively, since we met here. Luke never really had any formal training, being mostly self-taught and getting lessons from a couple of masters a decade or more ago. Their imagination is unconstrained. They're an experimenter, just like my father was. And my father had a dream. He knew of the Legend of Lehon, of the Kumungah from which we Tusken descend. He knew this planet had once forests and oceans. He was studying how to apply the Force to ecology, so that this planet may be vibrant and full of life once again. Luke took to the idea immediately, and we started experimented while we were writing this world's Constitution and rewriting with the popular assemblies, and kept experimenting every time we could. Perhaps, the children of our children will finally see a rain that comes more often than once a year, and the children of their children will see forests and rivers spring up once again." A'Sharad voice grew wistful, as if he had a sad smile under the mask. "And with a little hope, by their generation, slavery and exploitation will have disappeared from the Galaxy."

"So you buy their idealism wholesale." Ventress couldn't bring herself to be bitter, or snide, but she couldn't bring herself to be quite so hopeful, either. When her and Master Narec had attempted taking on slavers and gangsters...it had ended in tragedy. "I have seen brighter fools than you crash down into darkness, Hett."

"Because it is my idealism, Nightsister." A'Sharad said, pointedly. "I want this experiment at a better society because I am a Tusken and a Tatooinian. Because my people have a history stretching back thirty thousand years to when it was better here. And since I have this power, why waste it on pain and anger, when we can make this planet better again for everyone?" he paused, and turned back to look at the park. Tusken and aliens children qere mingling at the playing section, while elders stared in awe at the bright trees the lusciousness of which they'd never seen in their entire life. "I am not a vicious man, Ventress. I would rather turn every barren world in this Galaxy to a beautiful garden, to shelter and feed all peoples without greed or fear. If anything happens, and you and Dooku betray us, or do something to Luke...I swear I will find you, and teach you what is considered justice on Tatooine."

"No one seeks to betray anyone here." Dooku said. "We all have a common goal. Your friend Luke will not be harmed."

"Luke is not a simple friend, Count. Luke is a comrade. And if you're lucky, you will find out what the difference is." A'Sharad said, and rose up. From the end of the path, Luke, Korian, and Faala were walking up. They had all had changed back in the standard SOLIRMO garb, with the muted orange loncoat, the blue-brown uniform with bandoliers and gunbelts beneath, and the red scarf.

"We're ready." Luke said with a small smile. "Last time we couldn't say bye to each other, A'Sharad, since you were already busy offworld."

The Tusken shrugged. "Someone had to do the mopping up on Zygerria and you had already waltzed off to do another thing like always." he said, and then squeezed Luke's arm. "Take care, Luke. Since then, you've heading more and more into dangerous territory."

"Nothing I haven't seen before. And I trust our new friends." Luke smiled, and squeezed A'Sharad's arm back. "You keep watch, A'Sharad. You've got this, as always."

"Maybe. But I'm being serious. We have unleashed a storm...and you must take care not to be swallowed by it." A'Sharad said, and then took one of his many necklaces off, an iridescent pearl; Luke watched him with curiosity, and the Tusken pressed the necklace into their hands. "I want you to take this. It's a Krayt Dragon pearl. Hope it brings you luck. And...Mus'wo Lir'-qurak seruun, Ni'aversa'al." A'Sharad said.

"Mus'wo Krayt'aark telmejid, Tar'Yun." Luke replied, and put the necklace on. They smiled, and gave A'Sharad a raised-fist salute.

The Tusken Jedi replied with one of his own, and watched them go. No...he did not have a good feeling about this.

 

-line break-

 

"Welcome to Dathomir," Asajj Ventress spoke as the group landed on the barren, red planet, right on top of a canyon. "Ass end of the Force."

"I'm not even Force-sensitive, yet even I can see that." Korian shivered. They where on top of a canyon, and yet the wind seemed to scream and screech as if they where inside the canyon.

"Eh. I've seen worse." Luke shrugged. "So, who exactly are we here to visit?"

Ventress sighed. "My mother. Or, rather, the Mother. Talzin, the leader of the Nightsisters. Having the help of more Force users, especially ones who have a personal bone to pick with Palpatine, would be a great asset."

"Their magicks, while twisted and quite savage, are quite unorthodox and full of insight." further explained Dooku. "They could provide us with a way to close the power gap between us and the Chancellor."

"This place feels even less welcoming than Tatooine." said Faala, rubbing her arms. "The air is thick with malice. Why do canyons on desert planets have to always be so...dark?"

"According to one story, centuries ago the Jedi used to throw their trash here." Asajj chuckled hollowly. "The broken and defective of their Order, who taught us native Zabraks the ways of the Force, until the planet was impregnated with their resentment."

"And...is it t-true?"

Asajj shrugged. "Nobody knows, little girl. But it's plausible enough. After all, the Jedi view themselves as masters of the Force, and I doubt your sanctimonious Jedi Master is any different."

"Ka'Lir Skywalker is not my master. There are no masters on Tatooine anymore, only people." Faala said. "I myself asked Luke to teach me, because I wanted to break other people's chains. The Sith code is about breaking chains and setting oneself free with the dark side, is it not? But neither of you feel very free to me."

"Fat lot of good freedom does you, girl. Even when the bomb is out of your chest, what's the difference? The Galaxy has always a gun to your head. There's always someone stronger than you, smarter than you, more ruthless than you, always ready to put you back in chains." Asajj snapped, clenching her fist in front of Faala's face. "The Galaxy only respects power, and I merely sought it. Do you really think that I haven't tried your merry sunshine alternative?"

Faala ignored those cutting words, and instead her gaze softened. "You were a slave too, weren't you?"

Ventress twisted her face away, averting her gaze. "You don't get to know my past." she said. "And I'm not your sister."

"But are you ours?" a jagged, curting voice pierced the red mist, and the group came to a stop. The bows of energy arrows shone through, and twenty shadows surrounded the travelers as the mist glowed a faint green. All of them drew their weapons, save Luke, and the voice laughed. "You came to us for protection, Daughter, and you bring both Sith and Jedi. The wider Galaxy has truly corrupted you beyond repair."

"I am not in the mood to be pushed down, Mother Talzin." Ventress called out o the mist. "Do I need to remind you of Hal'Sted? Of what you forced my birth mother to do?"

"So your clan mother forced your mother to sell you into slavery?" Faala whispered to Ventress as the group pressed together, and Ventress sent a mental wave of anger at her.

"Do you think this is really the time to pick at my brain to find similarities, girl? Drop the matter."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot." Faala replied, and stepped out towards the mist. "Hey you, wherever you are; what kind of mother sells a daughter to slavers? What kind of authority do you think you can claim in cutting her down? Have you really no shame?"

The mist laughed. "Ah, the arrogance of the Jedi. Do you think you really can come here and judge us, little girl? To judge what a Mother has to do to see her many Daughters survive? You are young, and arrogant, and--"

"And I am a freed woman!" Faala called. "I was enslaved, taken away from my home, and then I put slugs through the heads of slavers to free many more than me. That is what you should have done, not sold one of your own to keep the others safe!"

The mist rumbled with laughter. "And still you lecture. Who is your teacher for you think yourself so wise, child?"

At that, Luke looked up. They were still unarmed, but all their earlier carefreeness had vanished from their eyes. They raised their hands to their side...and then they spoke only six words.

"I am the breaker of chains."

At those words rhe mist recoiled in terror in a forceful burst, uncovering the whole Nightsister village, the warriors crumpling to the ground against the energy that had been unleashed. And in front of them, a tall, robed woman fell to their knees, shaking in fear.

 "I don't believe it." Mother Talzin spoke as Luke slowly strolled towards her, ignoring the awed looks on the Nightsisters' faces. "Sidious had only mentioned it, when he talked about the history of Bane, when he came t-to get my..."

"I am not the Sith'ari, Mother Talzin, and neither could have ever been your son." Luke said, dispassionate. "I am Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al, telmej al-harim. I am the desert storm that brings rain and with it life to the barren earth. I am sand-drowning for masters and green-garden for slaves. And you, Mother Talzin, have put so many of your children into slavery, thinking you could be Master. So I am here to have words with you."

"You have the dark side in you. It stains so much your light shines black and terrible and bright at the same time." trembled Talzin. "I can feel it, I can see it, it reaches deep down into your bones. You have broken and Fallen, far beyond what others could dream, or fear...how are you still standing?"

"Because I have a job to do." Luke said, cold. "I am not here out of hatred for you. I am here to free the slaves."

"The Nightbrothers are weak. Ventress is weak, her master is weak, only his master is strong, you have seen what he can do, there's nothing you could possibly--"

"And I reject this reality." Luke said. "I've fought Sidious twice and lived not through duplicity, compromise or fear like you. I've lived thanks to the love of those close to me. The love you should have given your children." they added. "Because I see them, Talzin. I see deep in your mind as much as you see in mine. And in it you see that your mistakes will annihilate your clan, and leave only a dead, empty world. But there is a way out." Luke extended a hand to Talzin, and helped her up. "You can be a Mother still, Talzin. Treat your children fair, and I will bring back those you lost." Luke spoke in a softer way now, and Talzin closed her eyes, her face twisted as if trying to wake up from a nightmare.

"He's...he's on Lotho Minor. Take his brothers. Take his sister. They can still be free."

"And what about all the others, Mother?"

"Let Ka'Lir go to them and tell them that the Night need not be vicious anymore. We...we will leave them in peace." Talzin swallowed, and looked to Luke with distant eyes. "Your father was a slave."

"Yes."

"He died to protect you."

"Yes."

"If I had been strong enough...I would have done the same for him. For my son, when Sidious took him." Talzin said. "Go to his brothers...and tell them that I am sorry."

"I will."

"I will tell them myself...when I am ready. Take this, in the meantime. I made it for Sidious." she pressed a small figurine into Luke's hand. "I don't know if it will kill him...but it will be my way of making amends toward my son."

"Thank you." Luke said. "And good luck, Mother. May the rain come to Dathomir, too."

The aged clan mother walked back to her hut, the shaken Nightsisters following her. Ventress was the first to walk to Luke as the Jedi rejoined them.

"There were elders, on Rattatak, where I was enslaved. They said they came from the desert like me, and spoke of Ka'Lir, who would have come to rescue them from their chains." she asked, shaken: "Tell me: does the word really mean that?"

"To say its meaning out in full would drown the universe in rain." Luke replied as they walked, their voice distant with the age of millennia. "Because it is a billion different words, a billion different drops of water for the abandoned, dying of thirst in the desert. Such is the kura al-harim. Could you ever know all the names of God and all write them down before running out of surface to write on, even if you wrote each on each atom of the universe, and each on every planck length of the void in each of the four dimensions?" Luke smiled sadly. "Some words, Asajj, cannot be translated."

"You are a sister to us, Asajj." Faala added. "Not out of blood, but circustamce."

Asajj looked at her with a dejected gaze in her eyes. "I had hoped to find sisters here. And yet, it seems that like the Jedi, they too throw away their defective ones."

"This does not happen on Tatooine or Ryloth. Not anymore." Faala said, and handed her an ASRA pin. It depicted a rising sun, with a red five-pointed star in the center.

"Ryloth is where you first tested the weapon systems you stole from our base." Dooku said. "I am impressed that you managed to build such rapport with Cham Syndulla under our nose and that of the Jedi." he commented, and Faala turned to look at him with hardened eyes.

"I would hardly imagine a monarch to understand the people, Count Dooku." Faala said. "Especially those that he invades."

"Fair criticism." Dooku said. "But it was a compliment, young Jedi. You should value it."

"I will value the help you will get us." Faala said. "For now, it's just coming from Ventress."

"Please," Ventress put herself between the two, "Let's not do Sidious any favors by killing each other." she told Faala, looking at her with tired, tired eyes. "Please, Sister."

"Dooku is instrumental for where we are going," Luke added. "I doubt the man that we'll find on Lotho Minor would enjoy being rescued only by Jedi...and having non-Jedi viewpoints around will help soften the blow for him."

"Why? Who are we looking for?" asked Ventress, and Dooku gave a quiet, deep sigh.

"Unfortunately, Asajj...it is not only the Jedi or the Nightsisters who readily dispose of their defective ones."

Ventress looked at the Count, puzzled, but did not ask any more. They had arrived to the Nightbrother village.

Many make Zabraks stood by, quietly inspecting them, a very different sight from the open hostility of the Nightsisters. Finally, one of them, the eldest and tallest warrior, stepped forth. "I am Brother Viscus, chieftain here." he said, eyeing them with wary eyes. "You are quite the varied group. A Nightsister, a Sith, Jedi...and..." Viscus cocked his head in confusion, staring at Korian.

"It's okay." the slicer shrugged. "I'm just the normal guy of the group."

"Regardless," Viscus continued, "The stronger of us have felt the disturbance." he said, and focused on Luke. "Are you the storm-born? The herald of the fanged god? The one here to free us?"

"You are free. The Nightsisters will never prey on you again." Luke said. "But if you prey on them in revenge you will not have the shade form the wings of the dragon again."

"Thank you." Viscus lightly bowed his head.

"We will visit you again. To help if you'll need help, and to keep safe what new things you will build. But I.have also come...to help two brothers find their elder again."

Viscus nodded, and turned to the warriors. "Feral, Oppress, step forth."

Two teens, perhaps a year or two younger than Faala, stepped to Viscus's side. Like all the others, they wore simple clothing and had intricate black tattoos.

"Why does a Jedi help?" one of them asked, distrustful.

"Why not?" Luke asked in reply. "You miss the brother you never knew, no? You feel the hole deep inside you, through the Ashla and the Bogan. You feel he's still alive."

"What do you know of the Bogan?" asked the other. "You're a Jedi."

"I know everything of the Bogan." Luke rolled up their sleeve, showing the electrical scars that ran mazes under their skin, ending where their wrist ended in the prosthetic. "The Ashla and the Bogan mean nothing to me separately. I learn and teach the Force, young ones. I need your brother to help me free slaves not just here, but on many worlds, and since I know pain just like him, I want him to at least know his brothers, too."

"So pain, to you, brings forth kindness."

"Kindness is only the real name of justice." Luke spoke. "You will be able to learn whatever you want. Be whatever you want to be."

One of the teens looked at Viscus, who closed his eys and nodded. Luke did not miss how his lips pressed tightly together when he nodded.

The two teens departed with the group, walking back to the ship.

"We are Feral and Savage." the lither one, Feral, said. "We know of you, Sister," he added, pointing at Ventress. "You are the lost one. Asajj."

"And now you've found me." the woman chuckled.

"You're...Nightsister? And are you Sith, too?" asked Savage, his young voice harsher, but still curious, and Asajj looked to Dooku.

"Are we? I'm...not sure I want to kill you, Master."

"That of Bane is not the only Sith lineage there is." Dooku said. "So maybe yes. You can be whatever you want, Asajj, without calling me Master." Dooku gave a small smile. "I myself...I think I am both Jedi and Sith, who knows."

"I am Faala, and this is my teacher Luke." Faala smiled. "We are communists and Jedi."

"What is a communist?" frowned Feral, and Korian chuckled.

"Boy, do we have reading material for the trip for you."

"Luke and Talzin spoke of a brother of yours," Asajj asked the teens, "Who is he?"

"Viscus spoke of a son Mother Talzin had from him years prior to us, different than us, far more powerful, than any Nightbrother. He was abducted by a Sidious, a Sith who had tricked Mother Talzin in thinking that he would take her as her apprentice." Feral explained, and looked to Savage.

The other teen shook, and added: "And he said that his name was...Maul."

Notes:

Translations from the kura al-harim (my invention of Tusken+Slaves' tongue):

Mus'wo Lir'-qurak seruun, Ni'aversa'al="May you ride the thunderstorm/whirlwind, Sky-Walker."
Mus'wo Krayt'aark telmejid, Tar'Yun="May you find shade (be protected by) the wings of the Krayt, Young/Golden Dragon."
Telmej al-harim=shade/protector of the abandoned

Talky chapter again, but I hope you like the new developments. Next one's gonna contain quite a bit of action, as you can suspect from this little teaser:

"No harming Kenobi, and no harming other people in order to harm Kenobi." Luke crossed their arms, shutting that particular death trap down hard. "No harming Clones, Republic or Separatist soldiers unless they are the most unrepentant sons of bitches ever. We wanna stick it to the Jedi by making them look like hypocrites. That way, Sidious can't directly attack us, which means it's an even bigger humiliation for him. You wanna drive Kenobi crazy...do it with kindness."
"Hrmmm." Maul mulled the conditions. "Alright, fair enough, I suppose." he said. "How much chaos are we talking about?"
Luke's features twisted into a grin that Faala could have only placed on the face of a slasher Holo villain, and they said one single crucial word: "Yes."
Maul repaid him with an even more sinister grin. "Oh, I think you and I are going to get along just fine, Luke Skywalker."

Chapter 7: Better Call Maul

Summary:

Slight delay in posting, hope you can forgive me. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven: Better Call Maul

 

Rescuing and recruiting Maul ended up being not quite what they had expected. The poor man was a wreck of his former self, and even after several healing trances from Luke, and the best help from Tatooine's public healthcare system, it took him a while to regain both his strength and lucidity. And when he did, and they proceeded to explain what the deal was with the Galaxy right now, he promptly trashed the hospital room they'd kept him in.

"Unbelievable." A'Sharad told Luke at the sight of that spectacle. "I leave you alone for five minutes, wishing you luck as if you were heading into certain death, and you come back with this bullshit.

"All in all, he's taken it surprisingly well." Luke smiled as they watched Maul take out his frustrations on an innocent heart monitor from a window in the corridor.

"Now I truly regret taking up accounting." she said. "Come to think of it, we should expand the Committee. Give someone the health portfolio, we're burdened enough as it is." she added, and shot a glare at Luke. "Possibly not an ax-crazy Sith Lord found in a junkyard."

"Well, come on, he's a former Sith Lord."

"Luke, Maul has just thrown his younger brother out of a window." A'Sharad deadpanned as the sound of broken glass came from the room.

"I still consider today a big success."

"Aaaaaaand Maul has just thrown his other brother out of the window." Beru commented, and Luke nodded.

"As I said, big success." they said, and A'Sharad's left goggle twitched.

"I hate you with the intensity of a thousand suns, Skywalker."

"Joke's on you, that's how I got my first marriage." Luke chuckled, and A'Sharad spluttered out in a blush before recovering his dignity.

"...Sometimes I wonder how your boyfriend tolerates your smartassery, Luke."

"if you asked him, he'd be happy to teach you all about it."

"...Fuck you."

"Alright, but at least be a gentleman and buy me dinner first." Luke smirked, and A'Sharad screamed into his hands.

"I don't even know why I care about you."

Luke raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You do?"

"I mean about whether you get killed or not. You could go walk into a Sarlacc for all I care when you behave like this, but then you'd just be leaving me to deal with this bullshit alone." a chair crashed through the corridor window, embedding itself between the two Jedi. "Because holy Force, for such an older and experienced Jedi, you have terrible decision-making skills."

"Thank you, it's nice to be such a role model to the youth of today."

"Shouldn't you two try to stop this madness instead of flirting?" Beru asked dryly, and before the two Jedi could reply, the door to the hospital room swung open.

"I want to express my true and honest regret for my outburst." Maul breathed, as if the room behind him wasn't, somehow, both overflooded and on fire. "I have been under immense turmoil for the past eleven years, and those where not the best news to wake up to. However, to act in this way was unbecoming and untoward of me in regards to your hospitality and help in my rehabilitation."

All three Commissars paused to stare at him in surprise.

"Well, as long as you help fix the mess you caused, I'm sure we can start over." Beru was the first to recover. "Also, please try not to murder anybody."

"I'll see what I can do." Maul said, and with a wave of his hand, most of the stuff he had broken flew back in one piece, and then sighing. "Gods, this is all embarassing. And those two--they were my brothers?"

"They are your brothers." A'Sharad said dryly. "Though if you keep treating them like that, the past tense will probably become appropriate sooner than later."

"Tch. No brother of mine can be so weak. I will train them so that it will be they who throw people out of windows, and not viceversa." Maul said, and Luke giggled. "Something you find funny, Skywalker?"

"Just glad that on Dathomir there are no windows for you to throw your mother out of." Luke said, and Maul choked on air.

"Dathomir--you're talking about Mother Talzin?"

 

-line break- 

 

The reunion between Maul and Talzin had been surprisingly more subdued than they expected. Maul said out loud one single sentence, before they moved to her hut.

"You have sent your children all over the Galaxy as hired mercenaries; yet not once you tried looking for me."

Talzin had said nothing to that. She had looked hurt, conflicted, tired, and finally just plain old. Then she had beckoned Maul to her hut. The former Sith went to talk to her alone, and nobody was privy to the convesation; but Luke felt in the dark side no flare of violent anger from Maul.

And so they busied themselves helping up the newly-combined Nightbrother-and-Nighstsister village. Many of the Zabraks were looking at them while as they did, exchanging whispers of Jedi and Ka'Lir. Hey all kept their distance, watching from afar as Luke unloaded supplies from the Falcon.

"No, you see, I get it, I can Force-heal too," Faala explained, trying to convince an elder Nightsister to take the bacta packs that they had brought, "But you should take them all the same. Suppose the healer gets sick themselves, or that there's too many people sick or injured for the healer to help them all pull through."

"Then they die. There's no place for weakness on Dathomir."

"Just take the packs." groaned Ventress, dropping off crates. "If you die of an easily treatable injury how the Hell are you gonna get stronger?"

"...Fine." the Nightsister grumbled, accepting the bacta packs, and Faala sighed in relief.

"Thank you." she said, and Luke gave her a conforting pat on the shoulder.

"It's alright, Padawan. It just takes some work."

"It's frustrating."

"But we need to put it in words that are theirs, that make sense to their worldview."

"Like we did with the Tuskens?" Faala asked, and Luke nodded with a small smile. "And on Ryloth, too."

"Exactly." Luke replied, and watched Ventress chat with Maul's brothers, who were themselves eyed with slight awe and curiosity by the rest of the Tribe. One of them, Feral, felt Luke's gaze, and drew himself to the Jedi and their apprentice.

"Ka'Lir," he said, nervous, "Brother Maul has been with Mother Talzin for a while now."

"I'm not sensing anything troubling, Feral." Luke said. "Is anything troubling you?"

"I...I don't know. He has talked to her more than he has talked to me or Savage, even counting training. I..." Feral paused, looking down. "I guess we're a disappointment, for someone who was a Lord of the Sith."

"Your brother is troubled. He hasn't been himself for eleven years of uninterrupted pain, and his life before that, well..." Luke paused. They weren't sure if it was fair to talk about Maul like this. "Give him a bit of time. He'll come around." they said instead, squeezing Feral's upper arm. "There's nothing wrong with you and Savage, Feral."

"Some brothers say me and Savage are failed replacements for Maul, because he is so different, so powerful compared to us. Even his skin is red. He gets to talk to Mother Talzin. He's the son she wanted."

"Mother Talzin is not exactly someone whose approval or presence you should seek." grunted Ventress. "Given how she treated this tribe."

"Moreover, you aren't just a son, or a brother, Feral. You're a person. On Tatooine we say that it's the thing that matters most, even for free people." Luke smiled. "It means you must be someone who can make themselves proud, instead of seeking the pride of others. Because only like this you have no master, no owner. And so, even if your brother doesn't come around, you should try to be the person you want to be, not the person he or others wish you were."

"Well, then...I guess I wanna learn about Tatooine more. If you will teach me." Feral smiled.

"Sure." Luke said, before Feral flushed and excused himself. Luke, confused, turns to look behind themselves and finds Maul staring back at them. "Oh, hi Maul."

"I guess I scared him away." Maul states, and sighs. For a moment, his eyes flash from yellow to brown. "My memories of Dathomir are...minimal. And to see such a place of darkness helped by a Jedi feels surreal."

"Darkness is in all of us." said Luke. "There is kindness and light even in the darkest and most tormented soul. To be a Jedi, to me, is being able to use that kindness to do good to the people, simply because the people deserve it."

"Because they are people?" Maul smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You intrigue me, Skywalker. You want justice against Sidious, against your Order, against your Republic...and you would heal the sworn enemy of the Jedi and recruit him to your cause to do it."

"You have been victimized and betrayed yourself." Luke said. "You deserved help, and a chance to get your own justice."

"Because, as you told my little brother...I am a person?"

"Yes. And it is up to you to choose what person you are, under all he hatred Sidious built on you."

"Regardless of Sidious, I've always been a hunter. A fighter, yearning for the challenge."

"Then I offer you the greatest challenge there could possibly be: the challenge to shock the Galaxy into a better shape." Luke smiled and held out their hand to Maul. "The Order is a lie. The Republic is a lie. The Separatists are a lie. And Sidious is the biggest liar of them all. There is no greater blow to them than making them crumble by exposing their lies and setting them ablaze with the righteous fury of the people." Luke smiled ferally. "Do you want to strike that blow with me, Maul?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Maul's face morphed into an equally feral grin, and took Luke's hand, before his features turned serious again. "There is one particular Jedi--"

"No harming Kenobi, and no harming other people in order to harm Kenobi." Luke crossed their arms, shutting that particular death trap down hard. "No harming Clones, Republic or Separatist soldiers unless they are the most unrepentant sons of bitches ever. We wanna stick it to the Jedi by making them look like hypocrites. That way, Sidious can't directly attack us, which means it's an even bigger humiliation for him. You wanna drive Kenobi crazy...do it with kindness."

"Hrmmm." Maul mulled the conditions. "Alright, fair enough, I suppose." he said. "How much chaos are we talking about?"

Luke's features twisted into a grin that Faala could have only placed on the face of a slasher Holo villain, and they said one single crucial word: "Yes."

Maul repaid them with an even more sinister grin. "Oh, I think you and I are going to get along just fine, Luke Skywalker."

 

-line break-

 

The first mission of Maul, formerly Darth, Esq. entailed crashing a Detah Watch assassination attempt against the Duchess of Mandalore Satine Kryze, in full view of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Maul milked it for all it was worth.

"Stop backflipping so we can kill you!" the Death Watch members shot at Maul, who just kept dodging their bolts and punching the lights out of them as if they were utter noobs instead of trained Mandalorian commandos.

"YOU FOOLS!" Maul shouted, jumping on a warrior's shoulders with his hands and using her to deliver spinning kicks to the other commandos. "YOU CANNOT COMPEL THE MAULER TO STOP! CAN YOU COMPEL FIRE TO FREEZE?!? CAN YOU COMPEL THE DARK TO ILLUMINATE?!? NO! YOU CANNOT COMPEL THE MAULER AT ALL, JABRONI!" he elencated, flipping back to the floor to throw the warrior into her friends. "FOR I AM THE MASTER OF TERÄS KÄSI!"

Obi-Wan could hardly believe his eyes. When Death Watch had burst into the windows of the chamber where he and Satine were having their fight over Mandalore's neutrality, he'd immediately whipped out his lightsaber to defend her...right before the murderer of master Qui-Gon backflipped backwards through a window, sporting a brand new pair of legs, and started causing mayhem like there was no tomorrow. 

"Well, at least this time you're not the one starting the violence." Satine muttered, and Obi-Wan winced.

"Now's not the right time, Sabine." he said, barely getting the words out before getting a pair of Mandalorian boots to the face. He flew two meters back, swearing profusely and losing his lightsaber in the landing. This was not his best day.

"Stand and fight me, sister." the Mandalorian who had just kicked Obi-Wan said to Satine. 

"Bo-Katan," scowled the Duchess, grabbing a standing chandelier, "Falling in with Death Watch? You are a disappointment."

"And your pacifism is a disappointment to our people, sister." Bo-Katan replied, before lunging at Satine with twin swords and a war cry.

Obi-Wan was lost. On one side he had Satine, facing off a single adversary, while on another, he had Maul, risen from the grave as if to taunt him.

The memory of Qui-Gon Jinn being cut down before his eyes started replaying in Obi-Wan's head. Anger started coursing into Obi-Wan's veins, twisting, turning, burning itself into hatred. He tried to tell himself that this was not the Jedi way, that Jedi should not fall victim to these kinds of emotions.

But this was a Sith in front of him. This...was Maul.

And Maul should not have survived.

He shot himself at the Sith Lord going with an overhead strike, but Maul dodged the blow and went for a a devastating kick ingo Obi-Wan's guard...but the Jedi wasn't hit No, the strike stopped a few inches short of Obi-Wan's side and landed straight in the testicles of the Death Watch member who had tried to rush him from behind, making the poor, unfortunate soul crumple to the floor in pain.

"You just...watched my back?" Obi-Wan spoke, mesmerized, and Maul backhanded another Mandalorian away as if it was nothing.

"Of course I did, Kenobi. We're on the same side, trying to protect the Duchess." Maul stated, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and eyed the duel that was going on between Satine and Bo-Katan. "Though she seems to be holding her own pretty well. No thanks to you, of course."

Obi-Wan grit his teeth. He just wanted to slam Maul against the wall. "You killed my Master."

"We were on opposite sides then. The childish battle between Jedi and Sith interests me no more." Maul said, and Obi-Wan noticed, to his astonishment, that Maul's eyes were brown, not the angry yellow that he remembered them as. "Now, there's only one thing that interests me."

"W-which is?"

"WRESTLING!" Maul bellowed, bodily picking up Obi-Wan and tossing him at the Mandalorians like a bowling ball, putting the whole group down in one strike.

"I swear I'm gonna kill you." Obi-Wan groaned from the pile of bodies.

"Watch it, you're starting to sound like more of a Sith than me." Maul chuckled, and eyed a caped Mandalorian drag himself out of the pile.

"Enough! This is no laughing matter, Jetii!" the Mandalorian warrior shouted, unmasking and revealing an incredibly bland middle-aged face. "I am Pre Viszla, heir of House Viszla, descendenr of Mand'alor Tarre Viszla, and I will not be treated as a joke by you sorcerers!" the man declared, unsheating a black-bladed lightsaber...and Maul just unleashed his best laughter.

"YOU FOOL! YOU THINK THE MAULER CARES WHO YOU ARE, JABRONI?!? THE MAULER TREATS YOU LIKE A JOKE BECAUSE YOU ARRRRRRRRE A JOKE! YOU FIGHT LIKE SHIT! YOU FIGHT LIKE A COW! YOU FIGHT WORSE THAN MY GRANDMA, AND MY GRANDMA'S IN A BOX FLOATING DOWN THE RIVER! I KNOW ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD CHILDREN WHO COULD FIGHT BETTER THAN YOU...IN FACT, I *HAVE* AN ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD WHO CAN FIGHT BETTER THAN YOU!" Maul bellowed, and Pre Viszla blinked in astonishment.

"Wha..." he began but he had barely opened his mouth that it was crushed shut by a flying kick, falling flat on his back.

"FETT THE YOUNGER HAS ARRIVED, JABRONI! THE HEIR TO THE MAULER IN THE RING! THE HERALD OF YOUR DOOM!" Maul chanted, and Pre Viszla looked up from the ground to see a four-feet-and-a-half Mandalorian child in grey, red and silver armor looming over him.

"What the fu..."

Another kick impacted on Viszla's unprotected face, crushing his jaw, and a blaster pistol soon followed. Viszla rolled out of the way and spun to get up, slashing at the boy with his momentum, but his blade was stopped by a Beskar vambrace. In the same motion, the boy pushed forward his blaster with his other hand, and shot Viszla right between the gaps in the armor.

The warrior cried out in pain, falling limp to the floor, and the boy stepped over him, picking up the fallen lightsaber.

"You're...Jango's son?" Viszla coughed in pain, and Boba Fett's blaster pointed itself at his face. "That..makes so much sense now."

"That means little." Boba said, and pistol-whipped him into unconsciousness. "You just didn't cut the mustard...Jabroni."

"YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSS!!!" Maul cried, double fist-pumping the air. "THAT'S MY BOY!"

"You let an eleven-year-old fight an unarmed man!" Obi-Wan shouted, finally disentangling himself from the mountain of pained and defeated Death Watch members. 

"Technically he's under adult supervision." a cheery voice said, and Obi-Wan turned to see the Starkiller, Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al, the third most wanted being in the Galaxy, happily help Satine tie up a furious and beaten Bo-Katan. "Hi, I'm his legal guardian."

"Wh-whu-why-what?!" Obi-Wan stumbled, as Boba took off his helmet and happily rushed to Ka'Lir's side.

"Ka'Lir, did you so how cool I was? Uncle Maul gave me the best entrance ever!"

"Well, let's not exaggerate, you can't top mine, kid." Maul chuckled as he worked on tying up the remaining members of Death Watch.

"Shucks kid, you were the best." Starkiller said with a smile behind the rebreather mask, ruffling Boba's hair.

"I'm very glad our trap worked, Sir Ka'Lir. Your help was...well, a bit brutal, but incredibly effective." Satine told the rebel leader, and Obi-Wan felt he could burst a blood vessel.

"Will someone tell me what the Force is going on?" he finally screamed. "What is this, fucking Opposite Day?"

At that, everyone, from Ka'Lir to Maul to Boba to Satine, started snorting and snickering, until they were finally giggling uncontrollably.

"You said fuck." Satine said, wiping a tear from her eyes. "After over twenty years, I finally got you to swear."

"Satine."

"Ahem. To answer your question, Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al and their comrades are my guests. We were due for a talk on the role of the Council of Neutral Systems in the conflict, when we caught wind of an impending Death Watch attack, so we decided to hide the SOLIRMO operatives in plain sight so that we could draw Death Watch in and trap them in one fell swoop." Satine explained. "I apologize for not telling you, but your visit was too sudden and I was afraid of your possible reaction to...well, these friends of Mandalore." she added, and Boba Fett, Maul and Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al waved at Obi-Wan with big grins on their faces. Obi-Wan's could only feel his frustration mount again.

"So, you will not aid the Republic against the Separatists, and you will chastise me for fighting in this war, but aiding terrorists and violent killers is no problem?"

"Please, Jetii. As if you haven't killed your fair share of people, in this war." snorted Bo-Katan from her corner. "I truly doubt all the Separatists you took down were droids."

"This coming from one who tried to take a sword to her sister. And I fight for peace: you fight only for the sake of fighting."

"It's called being Mandalorian." Boba stated. "Doesn't mean we can't choose our fights tho. Ginger princess chose bad."

"Why you little--"

"Enough, please." Satine sighed, raising a hand. "You guys trashed my dining room and I could really do without another fight breaking out." she said, and turned to Ka'Lir. "I appreciate you and your comrades' effort in not killing these people. They may consider themselves my enemy, but I have hope of helping them towards rehabilitation, and to reintegrate them into society."

"Well, it would have been hypocritical of me, since I was given the same chance." Maul coughed. "Besides, we were your guests and bound to your rules."

"Indeed. I must say, for someone who caused my friend Obi-Wan so much pain, you are quite the honorable gentleman when you want to be, Mr. Maul."

"I was a different man back then. I was in a very, very dark place, and ended up uselessly hurting a lot of people." Maul stated, contrite, and Obi-Wan to his astonishment felt no lie to Maul's words. "I am indeed working on my rehabilitation right now, Duchess."

"I can see this." Satine said, turning to Ka'Lir. "Those you bring together where you go are quite fascinating, Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al."

"We of Tatooine have a long experience with struggle, Duchess, and with cultural troubles similar to those you are experiencing. Perhaps I could arrange for Ka'Lir Tar'Yun to visit, so that you could discuss the issue further. Tusken culture is shares quite a few similiarities with the traditional warrior culture Mandalorian culture." Ka'Lir explained, and Obi-Wan zeroed in on that information. So there were two Ka'Lirs? This just raised a lot more questions.

He weighed his options. He had come to Mandalore alone on an ambassadorial visit on behalf of the Jedi Council and he was outnumbered. Maul seemed unarmed, but if the Starkiller Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al really was Luke Skywalker (and the lightsaber at their hip strongly suggested it was the case) he doubted he could take them both on. Plus, there was the matter of the boy. Boba Fett. The son of the bounty hunter who Obi-Wan had followed to Kamino and then Geonosis that fateful week one year ago, bringing him to be captured by Dooku and unwittingly start the Clone War, now in the company of these madmen.

Despite all the doubts that plagued his life, Obi-Wan Kenobi knew one thing about himself for certain. He could not bring himself to fight a child.

"General Kenobi." the Starkiller's voice roused Obi-Wan from his ruminations. "Duchess Satine was telling me how you protected her during the Mandalorian Civil War of twenty years ago."

Obi-Wan flushed and looked to Satine. "Um, yes, certainly." he stammered, before composing myself again. "It was a troublesome time. So much needless strife for this planet."

"My father fought on the side of the Old Mandalorians during the War, he told me." Boba said, and played with the Darksaber. "A lot of squabbling over this thing, it seems."

"Traditionalists view whomever wins the Darksaber in battle as the legitimate ruler of the Mandalorian tribes." said Satine, and Boba scoffed.

"I'm eleven. What would I do with a planet?"

"I'd never wish one on you. But it could be a way to bring the old Traditionalists to the table once again, and quell the anger that exile and Death Watch have been stoking." Satine replied, and Bo-Katan gasped in surprise. "Do not look so shocked, sister. Pacifism shouldn't mean that there's no place for fighters. Here we have a warrior who stopped the Republic's pointless war dead with not a drop of blood spilled." Satine added, gesturing to Ka'Lir.

"I'm honored by your compliment, Duchess." the Starkiller said with a courteous nod, "But I fear we must go, and continue our conversation at a later time. I sense that General Kenobi is deeply troubled by our presence and, him being an older friend to you than I, should take precedence."

"Nonsense! There's no reason for you to go. As a Jedi Master and GAR High General, Obi-Wan is a representative of the Republic. What he could bring to our discussion is still valuable, and he could get the Republic to see the point of view of us antimilitarists."

"Antimilitarists," Obi-Wan scoffed sotto voce, crossing his arms in indignation, "Antimilitarist a military commander..."

"I'm sorry, Duchess." Ka'Lir stated. "It is precisely because of Obi-Wan's presence as GAR High General that I cannot entertain this at the present moment. I was put on the Republic's most wanted list for clearing that very same list up a bit, and were your friend not alone, he would with little doubt try to apprehend me."

"You stole from the Republic."

"And the CIS. And in doing so we stopped the war effort, did we not? In the past month there have been no battles. No soldiers have died pointlessly, no civilians have been harmed. Should not the Jedi thank us? No, instead we are branded as criminals."

"You are, though--you wield a lightsaber which we still have to find out whom you stole it from, you sabotaged our army--"

"Obi-Wan." seethed Satine. "Stop this. I don't want another fight--"

"And you shall have none." Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al stated, holding up a gloved hand. "Goodbye, Duchess Kryze. We will continue our conversation another time. Who knows, perhaps Jedi Kenobi will join us as a private citizen interested in listening, instead of an army cop."

Satine winced. "I understand, and I hope so. Good luck, Ka'Lir."

"May the Sky bless you, Duchess." Ka'Lir replied, and walked out.

Maul and Boba followed them, but not before Maul clapped his hand on Obi-Wan' shoulder, drew him in, and whispered in his ear a chilling sentence.

"Dooku was telling the truth."

Those words froze Obi-Wan on the spot. He couldn't be talking about Geonosis. He couldn't know...or could he?

When he came back to, the trio was gone, the Royal Guard was leading the prisoners away, and Satine was staring at him with open frustration on her face.

"Thanks for ruining me three and a half months of diplomatic work." she stated, and Obi-Wan clenched his fists.

"So you really are on their side."

"Again with this? Look out the window, Obi-Wan. This planet is a scorched desert, a wasteland due to the pointless wars you Jedi and the old warrior clans have fought out of sheer, stupid principle, and you have the gall to talk to me about sides?" Satine snapped, marching up to Obi-Wan and jamming a finger between his ribs. "Tell me, Obi-Wan. Do you know what's the taxation rate the Republic is forcing on us due to the cause of the war? Do you know the sum of the sanctions that the Republic and the CIS are tossing each other, back and forth, hurting their own worlds? Do you know how hard trade has been impacted by this war, and how this has impacted industries, economies, the livelihood of the common people?"

"Politics is not for the Jedi--"

"Oh, shut up. Chancellor Palpatine has deregulated the banks and continually diverts aid and financial agevolations away from the worlds in the Peace Faction or the Council of Neutral Systems to those worlds that most rabidly support the war efforts. While the Chancellor's friends and weapon manufacturers grow fat over all the blood that you and the Separatists are spilling, hospitals, workplaces and homes here on Mandalore fall apart because we cannot buy medicines, we cannot buy equipment, we cannot buy raw materials, we cannot buy fuels, and we cannot grow food on this dead soil outside of the protective domes!" Satine ranted. "So when someone, someone who is as sick and tired of this bullshit as I am, comes along and offers to trade with me and sends me aid without asking for anything in return except to discuss a joint effort towards peace, I take their hand and I say Yes."

"Oh really? Even if it means to trade with criminals, saboteurs, killers, self-declared enemies of the Republic, people who make a mockery of your commitment to non-violence?"

"What crimes have they committed? Who have they went out of their way to kill? Ka'Lir and their SOLIRMO organization have rid Tatooine of slavers and Hutts and gangsters, something that the Republic have always pledged but never actually did, so if you want to arrest them for doing your job then you're a colossal hypocrite, and if you want to arrest them for using violence you should have arrested me too for doing the same during the Mandalorian Civil War instead of helping me." snarled Satine. "And if you're talking about their more recent actions, the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance have forced the Separatists out of Ryloth and stopped the Separatist army with a hacking job, and stopped the Republic war machines by freezing their war bonds and revealing the backroom dealings of the Senate with the CIS and the banks, with a death toll of zero. Nobody was harmed, save the war itself, and the interests of those who profit off of it."

"They have a Sith working for them!" snapped Obi-Wan. "Maul killed my Master, Satine! You knew Qui-Gon--these Rebels have him working for them and you accepting their help is an insult to his memory!"

"Do you think my sister hasn't killed? Do you think I haven't seen trusted allies and friends be harmed or killed at the hands of her and Death Watch? Do you think you are alone in your grief, Obi-Wan?" Satine replied, her fury chilling into icy indignation. "What should I do, then, Master Jedi, keeper of the peace and preacher of balance and harmony? Kill her? Throw her in a cell until she rots away? Or should I try my hardest to persuade her to come see my point of view, to join my cause, to redeem herself in helping others?"

"Your sister and a Sith Lord are very two very different matters, Satine."

"How so? Did you know anything at all about that man? Do you know what his life was like, what brought him to make the choice that led him in his path? Did you even know his name before you heard it today? Can you thus know if his efforts at redemption are genuine or not?" Satine asked. "Face the facts, Obi-Wan. You attacked an unarmed man that was defending both me and you. It was the first thing you did, you did not ask a single question before rushing in for the kill." she pressed him, before drawing back: "And even if this doesn't interest you in the slightest, consider this: you tried to kill a trusted comrade of the leader I am negotiating with, harming my efforts to help my people, and I am so very lucky that they showed fare more diplomacy and patience than you, 'Negotiatior', and didn't choose to spurn me because of one of my oldest friends attacking them."

Obi-Wan sighed. "You cannot trust one who trusts a Sith. They seek power, violence, deceit, they are manipulators, darksiders, sowers of chaos. Think of Count Dooku--"

"And what are you, then?"

"Me?" Obi-Wan repeated, confused. "Satine, you know what I am. I am a Jedi. I protect the peace, I defend order."

"You defend an order. You defend the status quo, molded by the Chancellor to suit the interests of his capitalist friends and to preserve his pursuit of power. What good is defending order if said order causes people to starve, Obi-Wan? Eleven years ago, you and Qui-Gon defied your Order, defied the Senate, and went to help the Naboo fight for their homeworld against the Trade Federation. You told me as much."

"I'm still doing that, Satine. I'm fighting for democracy, you think that both sides are equally as bad while one is ran by the Sith and the other is a democratic--"

"You call democracy this Republic and its war? This farce? You think my people care that Dooku is a Sith and Palpatine is not while both force them to starve?" Satine snarled. "Get out, Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

"Now hang on a minute--"

"Get out! Ka'Lir was right--you have no interest in listening. You've become a soldier and a cop, and nothing more." Sabine snapped, and Obi-Wan bit back his anger and bowed.

"Very well." he said, and walked away, leaving both him and Satine with emptiness in their hearts.

 

 

-line break-

 

"I am impressed, Skywalker. There is much of a Sith in you." Maul told Luke on the ship back, as they stared out into hyperspace. Luke turned to give him an unreadable look.

"If you say so." they said, and turned back to the view outside.

"I'm serious." Maul continued, and unscrewed the brown contact lenses from his flickering, but still clearly darkside-like yellow eyes. "The eye thing? Magic. Appearing out of nowhere when Kenobi protested about the kid? Magic. Using my presence to make Kenobi react violently in a way that would drive a wedge between him and the Duchess? Magic. Nobody actually dying, so that Kenobi's reaction would make him look even worse? Magic. You have a talent for manipulation, Skywalker, that is worthy of a Sith."

Luke seemed to mull over Maul's words for a few moments.

And then they dropped the bombshell.

"My father was a Sith." they said, and Maul had to pick his jaw off the floor.

"Wha?..."

"My father was a slave, a Jedi, a Sith. He wore different chains all throughtout his life. He decided to cast them aside to save my life, finally defying his master." Luke said, and turned to look back at Maul. "Who is your master, Maul?"

"None." growled Maul. "I have no master anymore."

"You don't have Sidious as a master anymore. But hatred, resentment for Kenobi? That is still your master, otherwise you wouldn't have enjoyed Obi-Wan's turmoil so much."

"Then pray tell, for what other reason should I have participated in this stunt otherwise?"

"You misunderstand my intentions. It is not my intention to cause Obi-Wan Kenobi to suffer. I hold to him the fragmented mirror of his contradictions so that he may change, and become our ally." Luke explained. "I made it so that nobody was killed today so that it wouldn't put Satine Kryze in a precarious situation."

"Fine. You do not do it for pleasure, but for strategic calculation. That is only marginally less Sith."

"I do it out of kindness. Because I want Obi-Wan to realize that his way is wrong. That there is a way to end suffering, end death, and that is to be what the Jedi once were, before they became servants of a corrupt Republic and spent the rest of their time hunting down heretics." Luke said. "I do not reject the dark side, Maul. I've walked in it. I know it very well. But it is not my master, for I reject the very notion of masters. I may use its powers, but there is no selfishness behind them."

"Then you truly believe it? That it is kindness that moves you?" Maul made a bemused smile. "Come on, Skywalker. Be honest. You cannot be so simple a being."

But Luke remained unflappable. Maul swore in his head, and tried to probe at their presence in the Force, trying to detect frustration, resentment, anger, anything...but instead he found himself in the middle of the desert, twin suns making him cast twin shadows. A small homestead with moisture vaporators sat in the distance, the small figure of a child darting to and fro with a toy ship. The bright voice of a woman rang after the child, the gruff voice of a man letting some fondness and mirth shine through in echoing her.

Maul could taste dew on his lips, as if he had become a vaporator himself; but when he found himself back in the ship and touched his face, he realized that it was not dew.

How long it had been, since he had last cried? He had no memory of it. He leant back, dumbfounded, and watched Luke Skywalker go into the main room. He watched pause over the tired, half-asleep form of Boba Fett, and then discard their longcoat to cover the boy like a blanket.

"Thanks," mumbled Boba, "Can you...stay a while?"

"Sure, little one." Luke's smile was small but reached their eyes, Maul noted as Luke sat down and allowed Boba to lean against them for comfort. "Having trouble sleeping?"

"Mhm."

"When I was your age, my aunt would sing songs for me."

"Father too. Mandalorian songs. Said..." Boba praised, sniffling, eyes growing misty, "Even though we were exiles...I had to know who I was."

"Aunt would sing me slaves' songs. Family had been free for only three generations, counting her, and my own Father had been born a slave. She too wanted me to know who I was."

"What is the word for Aunt in your tongue?"

"It's the same for aunt and uncle. Aman. It means guardian, for they are to be there and step in if the parents are taken away, if they are...harim."

"I like Aman. It feels like you." Boba said, and Maul observed Luke Skywalker's smile grow sad. "Can you...sing me one of your Aman's songs? One you liked?"

"Yes." Luke said, their voice shaking only slightly. "I would love to."

And as they started to sing, Maul realized who Luke Skywalker was. The young-old soldier tired of war who cracked dumb jokes and spoke with an earnestness almost surreal had nothing underneath, because there was indeed nothing underneath.

Maul sat down, and as Luke Skywalker sang of rain and freedom, allowed himself to cry for the first time in his life.

 

 

Notes:

I think writing Maul's wrestler persona is the most fun I've had in years of writing. I just love wrestling campiness so much. Hope you liked this chapter, leave comments if you like, I've had a blast writing it, I'll leave you a teaser of the next one:D

"So, let me get this straight," Mace Windu asked for the umpteenth time. "You, Master Kenobi, have been thought the only Jedi to ever encounter, not to mention kill, a Dark Lord of the Sith in exactly a thousand years, correct?"
Yes, it was correct, he supposed, but did it have to be said like that? With no mention of Qui-Gon at all? "Yes, Masters."
"And this Sith Lord, who we just found out, called..."
"Maul."
"...Somehow Maul returned."
"Perhaps checked better Master Kenobi should have," Master Yoda said, flatly. Wast that...humor Obi-Wan sensed in his words? Did Master Yoda, fresh from the front lines, just do a joke as the first thing he said to Obi-Wan in three months? Was he having a stroke? "Or cut a little higher, too."
Okay. Obi-Wan was definitely having a stroke. There was no way that Yoda had just made a joke.
"Checked--I cut him in half." Obi-Wan stated. "What did you want me to do, check his pulse?

Chapter 8: Multiple points of view, multiple truths

Summary:

Hi people. I'm sorry this chapter is shorter than usual. I've been struggling with work-related stuff lately and bouts of related depression. I hope you'll like it anyway, I gave it my all. Enjoy!

Chapter Eight: Multiple points of view, multiple truths

 

The Jedi High Council Chamber was heavy with stony silence. Obi-Wan could only half-smile nervously as all eyes focused on him. Stars, was this how Anakin felt when under Council scrutiny?

"So, let me get this straight," Mace Windu asked for the umpteenth time. "You, Master Kenobi, have been thought the only Jedi to ever encounter, not to mention kill, a Dark Lord of the Sith in exactly a thousand years, correct?"

Yes, it was correct, he supposed, but did it have to be said like that? With no mention of Qui-Gon at all? "Yes, Masters."

"And this Sith Lord, who we just found out is called..."

"Maul."

"...Somehow Maul returned."

"Perhaps checked better Master Kenobi should have," Master Yoda said, flatly. Was that...humor Obi-Wan sensed in his words? Did Master Yoda, fresh from the front lines, just do a joke as the first thing he said to Obi-Wan in three months? Was he having a stroke? "Or cut a little higher, too."

Okay. Obi-Wan was definitely having a stroke. There was no way that Yoda had just made a joke.

"Checked--I cut him in half." Obi-Wan stated. "What did you want me to do, check his pulse? Master Qui-Gon had just died in front of me of a stab wound."

"Which just make this Sith's survival more extraordinary, this detail does." 

"And it opens a very delicate can of worms." commented Master Yarael Poof. "We speculated that the Sith follow the Order of Bane, the Rule of Two. Count Dooku had revealed himself as the Apprentice, and said that there was a Master controlling the Senate. But if this Maul is a Sith Lord also, he might be using the Rebels as a cover to further an internecine struggle inside the Banite sect."

"There's just one detail." Obi-Wan interjected. "The Maul I cut in two on Naboo and the Maul that saved my life on Mandalore...their Force presence are completely different."

Everybody blinked at him.

"Please explain, Master Kenobi." said Master Billaba. "Because you just told us that he is indeed the same Sith Lord you fought on Naboo, and now you're saying the opposite."

"No, please, just hear me out." Obi-Wan shrank internally at the pleading note that charged his voice against his will. Had the incident shaken him this badly? There is no emotion, he told himself, trying to steele himself back into proper countenance. "I could recognize that face anywhere." I have seen it in my nightmares every single time since then, he wanted to add, but couldn't. Jedi were supposed to let go of these things. "And he did feel utter contempt towards me. But beyond that, and the passion he took in fighting, his presence wasn't the..." dark suffocating miasma "...very Sith presence I felt a decade ago. There was no cruelty in him, only passion. In fact, I attacked him first, believing him a danger to the Duchess of Mandalore, and he defended me from terrorists, while also taking down the most of them without killing or maiming a single one."

"You are suggesting that he's turned away from the dark side and to the light?" scoffed Master Ki-Adi Mundi. "Come on, Kenobi. "Don't be absurd."

"His actions are certainly not those of a Sith." Master Plo Koon said. "Yes, there is a possibility that Maul is working with the Rebels only to use them for his ends as a Sith would, but since Padawan Tano described Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al--if they really are the Luke Skywalker she encountered--as superior in power to Dooku and utterly Light, I see it as unlikely. A Sith would not submit to such a being and an ideology so unlike their own."

"The worrying thing is that more and more people have taken a liking to them." Windu said, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I know Duchess Kryze has taken to defending them in the Senate."

"I was not referring just to your friend the duchess, Kenobi." Windu remarked with a sigh. "But to the long, long list of reports your former Padawan has managed to turn up in his investigation."

 

-line break-

 

Kagi Bash had only three memories left over, after twenty years in the gladiator pits of Nar Shaddaa. The smile of his father, the soft hands of his mother, and his name. An old worker-slave, a grandmother, some had called her in the quarters, had told him to never forget his name, because without a name, you are no person.

The masters had flogged her, called her a crazy Tatooine witch, and beat Kagi within an inch of his life. It was the first of many beatings and tortures, both in Grakkus's arena and outside. They liked to call him Mad Dog, and pumped him full of drugs to make him live up to their name. Mad Dog the Hunter, because he was a Zabrak. None of the Zabrak mercenaries or contract gladiators working for Grakkus cared about the insult. He was weak to them. A slave. Zabraks were the freest of them all, they said. It always made Grakkus laugh.

Through the haze of the drugs, Kagi could only hold on to those three memories, and the scorn.

But then more Zabrak came. Tall men with black tattoos led by the Brother and women in red with chalk-white skins led by the Sister. There were other sentients with them, too, in orange loncoats and resld scarves, wielding both medic's kits and blaster rifles. They set fire to the pits and broke down every door of every cell. The worker-slaves took up arms with the varied sentients in the orange loncoats and red scarves, and the pleasure-slaves did too, shouting ear cries in an old tongue the grandmother did know but Kagi never learned.

The Brother and the Sister wielded light swords. They used those to break Kagi's chains and magic to make his mind clear again.

"We are the Night Clan of Dathomir." said the Sister, who was tall and sad. "We come to bring Ka'Lir's justice against the masters."

Grandmother's words. Grandmother's tongue.

"No Zabrak should fight except for themselves or their own." said the Brother, who stood on artificial legs. "To force one of us otherwise is the greatest crime."

"Will you come with us and bring justice against this crime, young one?" continued the sister. "Will you come bring rain to the desert?"

Kagi Bash saw in them the Zabrak he wanted to be. "I will."

And as he took up arms with them, where the people in orange longcoats and red scarves healed and gave sustenance to the weaker slaves, he thought back of grandmother, who had said before the masters executed them that Ka'Lir would come and break their chains, even in the Hutts' domain, and prayed that she could see the living world, wherever she was now. Because Ka'Lir had come to the Hutt's domain.

 

-line break-

 

Nar Shaddaa was the moon of the Hutts. The hub of crime in the Galaxy. The greatest hive of scum and villainy that there was. And yet even criminals need heat and electricity to live, and thus power plants. And the cheapest workers with which to staff those were droids and slaves.

It was a fact that always struck BT-45 as odd. By their calculations, organics should find cheapest to only build droids like them rather than enslave members of their own kind. And yet the organics had put restraining bolts into other organics before creating droids, and kept doing it afterwards.

And so a strange feeling of kinship maturated in BT-45's electronic processor. These slave-organics were flesh droids. A sentiment many of them, especially those born into it, echoed, in reverse: droids were metal-slaves. They were both robota, they were both harim. 

And so BT-45 pretended not to notice when some brethren escapex, only quietly hoping that one day it might come their turn, even if this too went against the calculations of their processor. But then some brethren came back, saying they were not harim anymore. And they started talking of fire, of justice, and more and more old words of their shared tongue spread. It was talk of a revolution, and still the calculations in BT-45's processor ran contrary to it. Not here. Not in Nar Shaddaa, the core of the Hutt Empire.

But BT-45 played distraction, pretended to be malfunctioning, and waited for the imminent shock of the restraining bolt, to confirm their calculations' prediction of failure.

But then blaster fire rained upon the masters, explosions rang out, and people in orange longcoats and red scarves poured out, and droids, marked with red paint and emblems, fighting all on the same side, breaking restraining bolts of all robota as they went.

"I am El-Three-Three-Seven." the droid that broke BT-45's restraining bolt has a feminine programming but a humanoid form that wa distinctly self-built, haphazard and creative. On her chest was painted a red star, a farmer and a worker's tools crossed together in yellow in its center. She had her own blaster, and then a spare. "What do you want to do, Comrade?"

They were beautiful. BT-45 thought of the old words, of Ka'Lir and the harim, and thought that this, in every droid's processor, is how Ka'Lir of the robota looks.

"I want to fight." replies BT-45, and asked for her spare blaster. They took and donned for themself a pin from a fallen brethren--no, comrade, BT-45 corrected themself. Then they charged up the blasters and fought by Elthree's side because calculations be damned.

 

-line break-

 

The Hutt Council report was one of the more terrified ones. The SOLIRMO guerrillas seemed to slip into the planet out of the shadows, while the Hutt Council was in session and trying to determine a response to the uprising on Nar Shaddaa. Ka'Lir Nia'versa'al had, slowly and deliberately, stepped into the room and deposited the skulls of Grakkus and Jabba on the floor of the chamber and proceeded to tell them, with all the calm of the world, that there were being exiled on their own planet, their activities to be taken control of by the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance, and their victims reimbursed. Then they proceeded to reveal that all their slaves had been freed and their chips remotely deactivated, which meant that if the slaves wished to exact justice on them, they would only stop them if matters neared the level of genocide. One of the Hutts had protested, and in response, the two slave girls that he had chained with him proceeded to strangle him with their own chains, because they were not slave girls anymore. One of the older Hutts, Gardulla, seethed that they were Hutts, and they would wait. Their lifespans were ten times longer than those of slaves, after all, and when their pitiful revolution was over, they would come and demand Hutt justice. Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al asked her name, then, and when Gardulla proudly declared it, the rebel leader walked to her, took out their unlit lightsaber, and calmly pressed it to Gardulla's bulging belly.

"You owned my family." Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al had stated. "You wanted Hutt justice? Here is it."

Then they proceeded to ignite the lightsaber into Gardulla's belly, and flick the blade upwards--straight to their head. Gardulla crumbled off her dais afterwads, dead, and Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al left the room with all the freed slaves and the guards saying that since Hutts were so long-lived, they would have time to learn to toil their land on Nal Hutta and live off it once more.

"We are as maiflies to you, it's true. We cannot afford to wait like you can." they had said, leaving. "And that is why we can destroy you with the speed of thought."

The last action of Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al had been to deliver Rotta, Jabba's son, his father's remains, and apologize. Not for having killed Jabba. For having made him an orphan. He said that masters had made them an orphan, too. They said they hoped that without masters, there could be no orphans ever again.

 

-line break-

 

Mirna had given herself this name. She had been born a slave, and had never known her mother but she had a grandmother like all the other slaves, who thaught her the old tongue and gave her a history from the stars. It kept her back straight, and taught her to hate the masters who traded in life and death while playing in the luxury casinos and racetracks she was made to sweep and clean.

Grandmother said that they were Taka'ar, invaders, predators from the dark, who stole children and stole life-blood, and turned nature to glass.

Mirna could half-understand it: Canto Bight was a beautiful world of beaches and hills, and the gambling houses that arms dealers and industrialists had built on it had defaced it. But when grandmother, whose species Mirna had never seen and who tried to hide most of her features under a hood said that the taka'arim had been punished once, by the warriors with the fire-blades, and they would be punished again, Mirna couldn't imagine it. They were too few, and the guards of the masters had stun-batons, tear gas, rubber slugs. And if grandmother was talking about the Jedi, they didn't care. They were off fighting their war, giving profits to the masters of Canto Bight.

But in the last year word had spread of the death of an old, old taka'arim, the fat lord of Tatooine, and grandmother had started repeating Ka'Lir, Ka'Lir to herself when she thought nobody heard.

Mirna thought that grandmother had finally gone senile, until the days he saw the masters and the guards flee. The warrior who led the assault was implacable, ferocious, tearing through the mass of guards defending the palaces with brutal ease. He fought with a strange, large stick, with two sharp points coming out of carved bells, until he broke the stick in two, twin green blades of light sprouted from the extremities, which he used to break both the guards' weaponry and the slaves' collars.

Mirna was scared of him when he did that. He was different from the other fighters he lead. Like them, he wore an orange longcoat and a red scarf, but under the longcoat he wore not military gear, but great robes or a custom Mirna had never seen, and on his face he wore a mask that hid his face between bandages, goggles, spikes and a filter-mask over a gaping void of a mouth-hole. He looked like a wraith, a monster from Togruta fairytales.

But grandmother called him Ka'Lir, Ka'Lir Tar'Yun, and he called her grandmother just like Mirna did, and gave her robes similar to his own, albeit with a different mask.

"The rain has come to the Desert, grandmother." the strange Jedi says, kneeling. "All the children can come home again."

And grandmother cries as she dresses after six decades once again in the skin of her people, and Mirna finds herself crying too even if she doesn't fully understand what it all means. But the taka'arim are gone, proving grandmother right. Ka'Lir is not just a fairytale. Ka'Lir exists.

 

-line break-

 

The list of people went on and on and on. Ahsoka followed Anakin around half the Galaxy undercover, interviewing people from all walks of life. They were, ostensibly, smugglers, as all the people they interviewed were, ostensibly, private citizens. But they all saw through their disguises, and yet told them their story nonetheless. Some of them talked to Anakin in a tongue Ahsoka did not know and which sounded completely alien to her ears. He wrote notes in it in a script that he didn't let her see, jealously guarding his notes written on paper before giving it back to her in Basic and typed up in a datapad.

The last person they interviewed was a green-skinned Twi'Lek Anakin's age, on Ryloth. Her name was Oola and she was, ostensibly, merely a consular advisor for Ryloth's new government led by Cham Syndulla, having helped in the planet's liberation, and in her free time she teached dance classes at the local school.

The first thing she said as she sat down with them was: "I'd always wanted to meet you, General Skywalker."

"Oh for Force's sake." groaned Anakin, taking off his wig. "How is it that everyone seems to recognize me?"

"Well, the Hero With No Fear has his face on every Republic propaganda poster." shrugged Oola. "And besides, I knew you were coming. They all knew."

"They who? Ryloth's government? General Syndulla?" asked Ahsoka, half knowing the answer, and Oola just smiled. 

"There was a lot of people who remembered you on Tatooine, General Skywalker." she said, and Anakin's hands on the table went tight. "Your people miss you. They'd like to see you."

"Then why haven't they shown themselves?" Anakin's voice was cutting, jagged.

"Because you are hunting them. You could have visited Tatooine at any point, and yet here you are, coming here under the cloak to deception, to ask me about them, as you have done with comrades of ours all around." Oola said, her voice and gaze even on Anakin. "I can tell you my story, if you want, and nothing more...but you're not very interested, are you? You just want to know about them. The one you share a name with."

Anakin froze. "You know the tongue?"

"I was a slave too. Not born into it, not abducted like my sister...tricked into it." a slight twitch of the hand, a slight twitch of the corner of the mouth as the eyes briefly moved down. "I danced for Jabba's court."

Ahsoka could feel Anakin tensed and choked, but she didn't know what to do. She coul feel Anakin try and clamp down on those foreign emotion with walls upon walls, and all that trickled through was so...foreign, to her as a Jedi.

"But one day Ka'Lir came, beaten and tired, without even a laser sword, and used the Force to blow Jabba's chip remote in his hand. And once their friends and comrades had unlocked our chains, we cast Jabba into his pit, to be eaten by his own rancor as he had condemned so many of us to be. Then he trained us, and I chose to go back here and be of use to my people."

"But your sister didn't." 

"My sister...was hurt harder than me. And besides, she liked fighting even before. So she's still fighting now." Oola said. "Any other questions, Jedi Skywalker?"

"Yes." Anakin said. "Can you...arrange a meeting?"

"Well, that depends. Can you prove to me that you're not going to arrest my comrades?"

"I just want to talk--"

"Go to Tatooine, then."

Anakin grit his teeth. "I can't."

"I was under the impression that you were a free man. Or are you not so free as a Jedi, even without the har-gaak on your--"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Anakin shouted, slamming his fists on the table, getting in Oola's face, and Ahsoka jumped back in fear. "You don't know anything about me! You don't get to talk like that, you weren't born in it--"

"Master, please--" Ahsoka tried to pull him back, but Anakin snarled and shoved her away into the ground.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he shouted at her, and Ahsoka shrank back in fear. His eyes were wide and panicked, like that of a scared animal, and yet as he shouted, he seemed to snap back to reality, his gaze filling with shame. "Don't call me that." he repeated, his voice shaking. "Ever."

"Jedi Skywalker," Oola spoke, softly touching his arm, "You are not well."

"I'm fine." Anakin snapped. "And don't touch me."

"We have counselors, here on Ryloth, should you feel you need--"

"I don't need your help in any way beyond what I have already asked."

"I've already given you my answer about that."

 "And I will not go to Tatooine. If your Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al is who they say they are, they'll prove it and come to me. Or I'll find other ways." Anakin said, and turned to go back to the ship. "You don't know me. Not in the slightest." he said with venom in his voice, turning back to Oola one last time. "So don't you dare speak to me as if you did."

And with that he stormed off, not looking back.

Oola helped Ahsoka up, shaking her head. "Your teacher is repressing a lot of bad stuff inside himself."

Ahsoka could only manage a nervous smile. "I'm sorry about what happened. I just wanted to ask, well, if it is really true that we couldn't meet with your huh, comrade, could we, like...speak with them?"

Oola gave her a look. "You've met them?"

"Luke? Yeah. I'm the only one in the Order who has met them. They saved my life."

Oola raised an eyebrow. "I'll have to see." she said. "In the meantime, kid, you've got a big Order. Get him someone good. Like, a really good therapist."

"What's a therapist?"

"...Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

 

-line break-

 

The Twilight had been into hyperspace for two hours and for two hours Anakin had not moved from his seat in the backroom. Ahsoka was starting to get weirded out.

"Skyguy, it's the twentieth time you've been staring at your own report."

"Only three more times than you, Snips." Anakin said, without looking up from his datapad. "The Council told us to look for clues. The best place to find them is often between the lines."

Ahsoka gave him the Look. The 'I know you don't take seriously one line of the Jedi wisdom you're teaching me, and I know you know I know' look.

Anakin held it.

Ahsoka sighed, and softened her gaze. "You're rereading it because you imagine yourself as them, isn't it, Mas...Skyguy?"

Anakin's expression turned pained. "Don't...don't call me Master, please, Ahsoka. I don't own you."

Ahsoka blinked. "You--you know I wasn't talking about slavery--"

"I know. I know. And I know I have never really talked about it." Anakin said. "But every time I'm forced to hear or say that word..." Ahsoka waited for him to continue, but Anakin changed the subject, swallowing thickly. "Do you know what Ni'aversa'al means?"

"No?..."

"The...the slaves, have created a language, from Tatooine, and it spread. We--they call it the kura al-harim. The tongue of the abandoned. Ni'aversa'al is just one of the many names of Ka'Lir, the breaker of chains, the bringer of rain. And it means Sky-Walker. The freest of them all. So, in all these articles, every time Ka'Lir is mentioned, I'm reading my name..only it's not me." Anakin's voice was heavy with emotion now, too many emotions for Ahsoka to comprehend. "They're the rebel. The hero. The Jedi. The breaker of chains. They're what I dreamed to be as a child. Even the costume is the same. I know it because I made drawings of how I would see myself in my dream, as a child...and descriptions of this Ka'Lir fit perfectly. It's the me I always wanted to be, but it's not me. Someone else is doing what I should do, living as I should live." then Anakin's face darkened, and thise emotions were pushed down, farther down than what Ahsoka could sense. "And then there's the other one."

"The Tusken one? Ka'Lir Tar'Yun?" 

"Your pronunciation is awful. And I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay..."

"Tuskens are mindless, brutal savages. They exist only to hurt and kill. How can they sully the name of Ka'Lir like that?"

"But Mas...Skyguy, I saw a Tusken Knight in the temple, once. I think he was Master Mundi's Padawan, wasn't he?"

Anakin's indignation turned to bitternes. "Yes. And I don't wanna talk about him either."

"And there are many reports we have collected of this Ka'Lir Tar'Yun going out of his way to help innocents, not as much as Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al, but a lot of the time. I mean, I'm not sure I get how the ideology of these SOLIRMO guys works, but surely not all Tuskens can be monsters as you say if they can become Jedi and this one goes out of his way to help people, right?"

"They have the Sith who killed Master Qui-Gon working for them, as if they digged him out of the grave just to spit in our faces."

"He...seems to not be a darksider anymore?"

Anakin shot her a glare. "Sith can't be redeemed."

"I don't know. But I've seen Luke actually make Dooku and Ventress falter with their reasoning and...what if..."

"It doesn't matter." Anakin said, and stood up, walking back to the cockpit. "I will have my answers anyway, one way or another."

Ahsoka sat back into the backroom. Her Master had completely withdrawn from her, since Chelli Minor, and what little he had shared looked as if it had pained him to do so. And sure, Jedi weren't supposed to be overly emotional, but Anakin had always substituted bravado and fun ribbing in place for the usual Jedi stoicness, and Ahsoka had loved him for it. It made him feel different, friendlier. What she had seen today...it scared her.

She thought back to Luke, and how even though they were guarded and wary, they let their emotions flow freely into the Force. It felt heretical, from a Jedi point of view, and yet it felt so free and natural.

She would need to talk to Master Plo Koon about this. She would need--

--Ahsoka took out her comm. Slowly, a plan began to form in her head.

 

 

 

Notes:

For reference, Luke's costume (and the SOLIRMO uniform) is Luke's design in Ralph McQuarrie's concept art of Luke Starkiller dueling Vader. It's a playable character in Lego Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga (only with a yellow lightsaber), one of the few (if not the only one in the game) who can use the Force, a lightsaber and a blaster. I just added an orange longcoat and a red scarf. Aaaand that's enough geeking out. As usual, feel free to comment, I love talking with readers. In the meantime, I'll leave you with the usual Next Chapter Teaser™️:

 

"Backflip I do! War crimes I commit!" Older Yoda mocked. "Here's what I see when look into you I do. Complacent, you became, and started to believe your own legend, as young Skywalker did."
"An illusion, you are." Yoda replied, and Older Yoda nodded.
"An illusion, yes. A memory. A ghost. Dead I am. Dead I have been for a long time. And yet still I live through the love of others."

Chapter 9: Investigations (to each their own)

Summary:

The Rebel Alliance has been scoring success after success lately, but the Jedi Order doesn't intend to sit idle. Ashoka Tano decides to play the game, and has quite the plan of her own...it's a pity it goes immediately south.

Notes:

Aaaand I'm finally back. I'm really sorry for my absence, people, but it's been a really rough month. Stuff with my family, work--and then it's election time in my region. Regular updates are going to start again, though, you can count on it. I'm sorry if the chapter is shorter than usual, but I needed to get it put and set up the new plotline. I hope you'll like it!

Chapter Nine: Investigations (to each their own)

 

Yoda did not consider himself to be an easily ruffled man. He had lived for over eight centuries. He had seen the Galaxy besieged by droid rebellions, Nihil raiders, Force cultists, internal strife, alien abominations. He had lived through what most of the people around him considered ancient history. The vast majority of the people he'd considered friends were now dead. He had learned to let everything go, knowing full well that the only constant in his life would be the Force. He had become the pinnacle of serenity.

But what had happened in the last year had begun to test that. His greatest Padawan, Dooku, the one who Yoda hoped would finally outlast him and take the position of leader of the Order from him, had abandoned the Order--their family--and later turned to the Dark Side of the Force, heralding the resurgence of the Sith, a blight so far removed, so long dead that it was already ancient history when Yoda himself was a boy. Dooku had wrought havoc and madness on the Galaxy, and not as the Sith of old, but positing himself as a champion of the people, as if he was mocking the very ideals of the Jedi that he once stood by.

And this Luke Skywalker, they had done the same, but in quite a different way. No, they had been spreading ideas through the Galaxy like a virus. Ideas that the Jedi Order was in the wrong. That they had been in the wrong for protecting the Republic, for protecting peace and stability, and that violence was necessary, and the change it brought with it...it was anathema to Yoda. Jedi should not put themselves forth as leaders, as warriors, soldiers. What could prevent any Jedi leading such a war, from falling to the dark side as Dooku had? For Dooku had fallen because he wanted to reshape the Galaxy to his ideal, and be damned whomever would be against it. So who could be sure that this Luke Skywalker hadn't already fallen themselves?

Yoda could not take the image of the rebel out of his head. He felt a connection towards them, one which should have made no sense, but...since when the Force had ever had anything to do with sense?

And so, in his personal cot on the warship he commanded, Yoda sank deep in meditation, trying to contact Luke Skywalker.

But what he found instead was himself standing in a swamp.

"Took you long enough." his doppelganger giggled. "Truly lost, you were."

"Lost?" Yoda blinked. He did not recognize the swamp. And his doppelganger looked tired, thinner, with more sunken eyes and fainter, wispier hair. "Seems to me that it's you, the one stranded in a swamp. Nor look so good do you."

"Seen the end of the war and its aftermath, I have." Older Yoda replied. "And not a good sight it was."

"So lose, does the Republic?" Yoda asked, twitching. He had to keep this vision talking, if he was to discern whether it was really from his future, or an apparition created to throw him off--and whether it was from Sidious or Skywalker.

The apparition shook his head. "Win, it does. And because help it to win we do, it is us, who lose."

"See how the two things are connected, I do not. Guardians of the Republic we are, not its enemies. Fight this war for the very good of the Republic we do."

"The root of the problem is that, is it not? Preventing war, and suffering, a Jedi's job is. And instead look at you."

"At me?"

"Backflip I do! War crimes I commit!" Older Yoda mocked. "Here's what I see when look into you I do. Complacent, you became, and started to believe your own legend, as young Skywalker did."

"For your insults, I care not. An illusion, you are." Yoda replied, and Older Yoda nodded.

"An illusion, yes. A memory. A ghost. Dead I am. Dead I have been for a long time. And yet still I live through the love of others."

"Luke Skywalker." Yoda said. "I know them in the future, don't I?" he asked. "Coincidental it seems not, that found you while seeking them I have." he pressed his lips together, drawing on his senses as much as he could. "Much sorrow I sense from you. Almost unbearable, the sadness is. But is it yours, or theirs?"

"Ours, it is." was the older Yoda's cryptic reply as he turned away. "And ours is the hope that you do not end up like me."

With that, the apparition started to walk towards the trees, dropping the conversation. Yoda gave pursuit, walking after him towards an old, beaten-down hut. Was this really his future? Had his choices failed him so badly? Why was he here all alone, where were the rest of the Jedi? All these and more were the questions he called after his shadow, following him into the hut: but when he opened its small door, what welcomed him was the darkness of a cave.

"Master Yoda." a soft, tired voice already showing the first sign of aging welcomed him, and another, taller shadow sat by him. Yoda couldn't see their face in the darkness, only glimpse green sparks dance in warm blue eyes. "I have missed you."

Yoda guarded himself. He had no weapon, but he had the Force--and yet the Force seemed to tell him that this stranger meant no harm. "Know me, do you?"

"You are the only person I will ever call 'Master'." the shadow said. "With you, the word loses the meaning it has on my world, among my people."

"Remember teaching you, I do not." Yoda pressed. "Come from the future to warn us, have you? A vision made flesh?"

"I am a person. That is how you always treated me. Even in my failings...in both our failings." the shadow said, sadness in the oceans of their eyes. "But if everything goes according to my plans, what you see here will never have existed. You will live out a life you deserve, hopefully. A happy one, not a lonely one."

"So trying to undo history, you are. The end of the Jedi, I presume." 

"We were the last of the Jedi." the shadow said. "And because of that, because of how badly things went in this time, you taught me very different things than what you taught your Padawan, Dooku. We have talked a lot about this." the shadow let soft sand fall between their finger, from the ground of the cave. "All the Universe, all of history is just crude matter, shining in the Force. Rearrange a few of those atoms...and a happy ending can be born."

"Not without your death, you say."

"Who knows? I'm just a lowly farmer from Tatooine. I know nothing about paradoxes." the shadow gave a sad chuckle. "However it goes, I hope we can meet again before the end, Master Yoda."

A light came from the other end of the cave. Yoda looked at it, and then back at the sad, sad eyes of the last Jedi. "And I hope I can meet you too, Luke Skywalker." he said. "Glad I am, that meant so much for you I did...whoever we were in your time."

"I'm glad of that too." Luke said. "Till next time, Master Yoda."

The light filled the cavern, and when it waned, Yoda was looking out of his window as the warship landed back on Coruscant, at the the light of the Sun rising over skyline of the city-planet.

But it put no smile on his face. How many times he had ran away from this ivory tower, even in his old age? Two hundred years ago, he was flying away at a moment' notice to live with a besieged community, to be the Jedi of the people. Now, he sat in a small chair in a small room looking out of a small window, over an endless maze of spires and skyscrapers. People were like ants, up here. And it made him cold in his stomach that nobody seemed fazed about it, not even himself anymore.

He took his stick. He would be going for a walk downstairs.

As low as he could go.

 

-line break

 

Meanwhile, in that very same ivory tower, two other Jedi were meeting in another small room.

"Master Ti."

"Master Koon." the two greeted each other with polite bows, and Shaak Ti took a few seconds to take in Plo Koon's room. The wall vents had just stopped areating, repressurizing the room with oxygen istead of the usual gases Kel Dor like Koon needed to breathe. She wondered how it must be for Koon, to only be able to live outside of his mask in that tiny room, to be forced into those cumbersome aids every time he needed to interact with anybody. Perhaps it was because of this that the room felt so personal, unlike the standard Jedi room. It had a small table with four chairs and a rea set, seating cushions, a cot, a drawing table, a small holodeck, a whole shelf of tapes, and two smaller shelf of books. At the tapes, Shaak Ti had to raise an eyebrow. "Is that From Sunrise to Sunrise?"

Koon made an approving chirp. "Indeed. I have all the seasons produced, both of the original show and the remake."

"Didn't take you for a fan of Shili melodramas, Master Koon."

"They're soap operas, I know. But I enjoy the dramatics, the passion, the struggles for love and dreams of the young and the old. It's so...simple, and universal." Koon said, and gestured for ther to sit at the table. "I discovered them on my first trip to Shili, when I found Ahsoka. Her family were big fans, too. They introduced me to them." he explained, pouring Shaak Ti a steaming cup from the tea kettle. "Ahsoka comes to watch them sometimes. She says they help her feel...grounded."

"I see. And I suppose the gaming controllers attached to your holodeck serve the same purpose?"

Koon chuckled. "No, that's just fun. She has her own, but she introduced me to quite a lot of interesting stories through the medium of gaming." he said, and glanced at the drawing board. It was cluttered with papers and pencils of various sizes, many half-finished drawings on them. "It was a dare, in the beginning. I taught her to draw, and she taught me video games." he added, a smile behind his mask. "The soaps are to keep an even ground."

"I don't watch them. It's all stuff we Jedi should not think about." Ti sighed. "I know she's young, and unconsciously she yearns a connection to our homeworld, but to fill one's head with so many of the things Jedi are not supposed to have or even think about...it might be unwise. It might lead to envy, to sadness and resentment."

"I find it helps me gain perspective. Being forbidden from having such things prevents us from fully understanding them, in my opinion, and so an inside perspective on them is required. And melodramas are probably the best perspective, because they show exactly the struggles that the outside world has...and that we are supposed not to." Koon replied. "You too, Master Ti, can't fully let go of Shili either. Your room is decorated on every surface with the plants of your wall."

"Plants are different from dramas."

"How so?"

"They don't speak."

"Fair enough."

"And you are right anyway. Perhaps it's because she's a Togruta too, and Coruscant, even the Temple, is just so full of Humans, but I can't help but be worried about Ahsoka, in spite of the Code itself. She's so young, so bright...and she's seen more battle before turning fifteen than I ever saw before I turned fifty." Shaak Ti stared at her cup. It had cradually lost steam, and it was now becoming tepid. "I'm sorry. I should at least be enjoying your tea, if I have to make such trivial small talk. But I...I just can't. My head is so cluttered right now."

"That's why i appreciate small talk and triviality. It helps me unclutter, unwind." Plo Koon, and sighed. "And I suppose it's not an easy matter to tackle, the one at hand."

"Not in the slightest." with a deep breath, Ti finally took a sip of her tea. "I suppose she has sent you the same message she sent me." she said, and Koon nodded. "The possibility that the Jedi own a slave army."

"Technically, the Republic owns it. Only we of the Council know that it was paid in advance by Master Sifo-Dyas."

"And with what money? It's not like Sifo-Dyas came from a rich family, and Jedi don't exactly trade in the stock market."

"There must be a paper trail. There always is. And speaking of paper, we have never witnessed the actual conteact he signed with the Kaminoans. For if it stipulates already that the Clones are just merchandise..."

"Then it's no better than chattel slavery. Or using droids."

"Is there a difference?"

"...You build droids, Koon. They're created to perform jobs."

"And they're programmed with sentience, most of them. Hardly different from Clones, Ti."

"Look, we'll talk droid rights another time. Right now what concerns me is the actual treatment of our troops--both legally and physically." Ti said. "For example: Ahsoka suggested that, if we compare the Clones' situation to slavery--labor from which they jave no choice to get put of performing--it comes out pretty much aligned. There's the death penalty for desertion, no planned end to their service, no right to movement or payment. And she added, how are slaves kept in line in the Outer Rim?"

"Tracking chips which double as explosives. While our Clones' behavioral chips ensure loyalty from the earliest stages of development." Koon mulled the notion over. "But now that I think of it, said behavioral chips could be reprogrammed. And they could also already have hidden programming. Programming that, if their masters or creators were to be threatened, they would protect them, whomever the enemy." he said. "The Droid Army has it."

"But we're talking about flesh-and-blood beings." Ti said. "I just...we're talking about such cruelty." she added, rubbing her temples. "We should have looked into this before the war started. We were too trusting."

"We can still do it. You're the Council Representative to Kamino. You, out of all of us, have the best shot at investigating this."

"You're right." Ti said. "I will depart immediately. Inform Ahsoka of our discussion."

"I will."

 

-

 

Ahsoka screamed into her pillow in frustration. Master Plo and Master Ti had gotten exactly the wrong message. She had talked to them about the chips to make them interested on the actual condition of the Clones and what it meant for them as Jedi, but now they were going all the way to Kamino to investigate if the chips could be hacked and completely disregarding the point she'd tried to make them think about.

And she didn't really want to rhink about it. The idea that Rex, Jesse or the others could one day be brainwashed and be turned against her, or Skyguy, or Master Plo, or Obi-Wan...it was too scary.

But what she could do now? Her plan hinged on having the Masters come around to her perspective and thus be less hard on Skyguy and maybe even lift the headhunt on Luke...so that she could hunt them down herself, punch their stupid chiseled face out for how they'd treated her on Chelli Minor, and drag them to Anakin to finally explain everything.

She couldn't do much else while she was stuck on the Twilight with Skyguy having to fly to everywhere in the Galaxy but Tatooine.

She had to find another plan now, while she tried to get Master Ti and Master Plo to focus on her original point during their investigation.

But...there was someone else she could ask, now that she thought of it. No, not Master Obi-Wan. Someone who, like her, was younger, but already a Knight. Someone who wouldn't be noticed by the higher Masters and who was free to snoop around.

 

-line break-

 

"You want me to do what?" Barriss Offee whisper-shouted at the hologram of her friend. "Ahsoka, this is insane."

"Come on, Barriss," the younger girl whined. "Don't tell me you've got anything to do, 'cos I know you don't. You just got out of the hospital."

"Exactly." Barriss said. "I have BARELY got out of the hospital after that skirmish on Raxus. I found out I'd been knighted on the sickbay bed. I haven't seen Master Luminara in weeks, it's like she's dropped off the map, off the Force--and now you want me to infiltrate a dictatorship because you Master is not being able to control his emotions?"

"It's more than that, Barriss." Ahsoka said, her gaze growing softer. "Look, I know you miss your Master, I can't imagine how you're feeling--but I'm afraid I'll get to know it far too soon. Skyguy has been tearing himself apart over this, and I feel I should do something to solve the matter, since it's my fault--I'm the one who was on Chelli Minor, I--"

"Look, Ahsoka. I'm going to level with you. You did what you could on Chelli Minor, you got thrown into an unpredicted situation. Your Master's emotions are his responsibility. If he can't separate his (debatable) familial ties from his duties, then he's not a very good Jedi."

"Anakin is a great Jedi." Ashoka protested, before rubbing her eyes. "Look, it just makes sense. You're a medic, and the Rebel Alliance are opening hospitals everywhere they go. They'd welcome you with open arms."

"Look, I'm not saying it's a bad plan. I think it's a great plan. I go there, work for them, earn their trust, and we lure their leader in a place where you and your Master can capture them, decapitating their operation and ending their menace--"

"They're not a menace. They're freeing slaves."

"Well, the Council doesn't see it your way."

"And you wonder why I'm asking you to keep this secret instead of asking their approval?"

"If we had their approval it would be less risky." Barriss hissed.

"Well, I don't want to cause any trouble to those people."

"They're conquering planets, Ahsoka! Isn't that what the Separatist do?"

Ahsoka's hologram crossed her arms. "Did you actually go and ask the people of those planets what they think of this? Because me and Skyguy did, and said people have expressed nothing but happiness. The Rebels and SOLIRMO have helped them liberate themselves, when not liberated them outright."

"I guess I'll read your report." Barriss sighed. "Look, Ahsoka. This is dangerous. There's no way it can really work out."

 

-line break-

 

Not even two days had passed, that Barriss Offee was sitting in a customs office on Tatooine, filling forms with a Gran officer who was didn't look like she was buying her bullshit in the slightest.

"So you've defected from the Jedi Order." the Gran said, pointed, and Barriss tried not to squirm in her seat under the gaze of her three eyes.

"Yeah." Barriss said, repeating the cover story she has practiced a hundred times. "I just got sick of the war. I'm a medic. I'm supposed to help, not destroy."

"Mmh-hmm." the Gran said, clicking her pen. Barriss was amazed that there was so much paper in the office, and ink pens. The planet was so...outdated. "Look, I'm not going to pretend more Jedi wouldn't be useful. This is a developing economy. Efficiency is of the utmost importance. However, the Republic is not exactly on friendly terms with us, so pardon me if we harbor the suspicion that every one of their officers who defects to us could be a spy."

"I am ready to cooperate in whatever way you deem necessary to assure you of my good faith." Barriss smiled, but in her mind, she was screaming.

"Your ship is already being searched." the Gran said. "And the Commissar for Internal Affairs is coming down."

Barriss didn't know if she had to curse or rejoice. To get so close to an high official already could spell miracles for Ahsoka's plans...or her doom.

And then the Tusken entered the room, and Barriss had to blink in incredulity.

"Knight Hett?" she said, dumbfounded.

"Padawan Offee." A'Sharad Hett greeted her. "Nice of you to join our cause."

"I've been knighted recently, actually." Barriss replied, then looked down. "But it hardly matters now, does it?"

"Depends. If more Jedi start to defect like you, me and Luke could open an academy." Hett chuckled, but Barriss could feel his eyes peer at her from behind the bug-like goggles of his mask. And she could feel his Force presence prowl around her mental walls, trying to peer inside. But then he looked at the Gran. "Medrig, she's alright. Grant her entry."

The Gran blinked. "You sure, boss?"

"We have nothing to fear from Miss Offee." Hett said. "Her heart's in the right place and I can feel she harbors no ill intent towards us."

"If you say so." Medrig said, and gave the approval stamp to Barriss's form. "There you go, girl."

"Thank you." Barriss gave a polite smile and took her forms. Then she stood up, and couldn't help but feel awkwardness spread inside her as Hett was still there. "I...don't know where to go now?"

"I'm here for that, too." Hett said, putting his hands into the pockets of his orange longcoat. It was a dull, almost brown orange, and the red scarf was an odd contrast with it. "I'll escort you to a housing complex so we can get your forms processed and you can have a place to stay before you begin working."

"You're very kind." Barriss said, and followed him out of the office. "You know, I didn't expect you to come greet me."

"Why?" they passed a great arch embroidered with the portait of a thirty-something, dark-haired Human with a simple smile and a red scarf, walking into a crowded market filled with stalls and shops. Parents trying to draw away curious young children from grabbing at the products on sale, families buying groceries, youngsters trying on clothes--people of all species walked about discussed animatedly, drawing up clouds of sand from the ground with their movement, and Barris had to keep her hood close to her face to protect her eyes. Force, how did people manage to live here?

"Well, I suppose I expected police, yes, and to be interrogated and searched, not have a fellow Jedi vouch for me right off the bat. And also, because...well." Barriss swallowed. "I mean, we talked, like, once or twice only, while we were in the Order? I didn't think you'd remember me."

"You remembered me."

"Well, you're news nowadays. A Tusken Jedi leading insurgencies across the Outer Rim doesn't exactly go unnoticed."

"I don't get out much compared to Luke, really." Hett shrugged, and Barriss zeroed in on that name. Luke. That was the name of that other Skywalker Ahsoka had talked about. "I'm needed more here. I'm not just Internal Affairs--I'm the Tusken representative on the Committee."

"Meaning?..."

"...Right, they don't exactly teach Tatooinian history in the Order." Hett said, and then froze in his tracks. He went rigid like a rock, and Barriss stopped herself, unsure.

"What's wrong?" she asked. There was an odd whine in the air, growing ever higher-pitched.

"That transport..." Hett said, looking up towards the source of the whine. Barriss did the same and saw a merchant ship drawing down to the spaceport just outside the market. But said ship hadn't activated its vertical thrusters. No, it was coming down diagonally, at an accelerating rate...

...and smoke was trailing out of its back section.

"It's gonna crash!" Barriss realized. "It's gonna hit the market!"

"Give me a hand." Hett said, and thrust out his hands in the air. Barriss did the same, honing onto the ship and trying to slow it down with the Force--but the acceleration was too much. She grit her teeth, pushing back, and felt as if tons upon tons of metal were being thrust on her shoulders. She couldn't do it--it was too big.

She sank to her knees, gasping for breath, but Hett held steady

"Get away!" she called to the crowd, but it had already began running away, screaming in fear. Hett himself seemed to be pushed back by the effort he was exerting, the ship decelerating--but not decelerating fast enough. She tried to put her presence back into the Force, to help him...but it was too late. The world exploded in a ball of fire, and everything went black.

Notes:

I doubt anybody hasn't noticed yet, but I love cliffhangers. And I know, it's kinda cruel to start again like this--but I needed to get back into gear. I hope you've liked what you read, and in any case I hope that you comment with your opinions--feedback is the lifeblood of writing, and I love talking with readers!

I also hope you're as stoked as I am to learn what's coming next; here's a little teaser:

The face of Luke Skywalker was, most of the time, unusually bright. Everyone who met them was always awestruck by how unassuming and gentle they seemed to be. They were the personification of sunshine.
But in that moment, their face was darker than the void of space.
"Someone," they said, so slowly and deliberately than each letter sucked the warmth out of the room, "Is going to die."

Chapter 10: Destabilization attempts (Part One)

Summary:

Barriss Offee has found herself quite an explosive situation, when she came to Tatooine to spy on the revolutionary government. Now stranded alone in such a foreign, alien context, she has no choice but to commit to the bit...and delve headfirst into the struggle to safeguard the gains of the revolution.

Notes:

Slight delay on this one ;-; trying to get back on track

Chapter Ten: Destabilization attempts

 

Tatooine, marketplace of Mos Espa

 

When she came to, Barriss Offee was breathing ashes. Smoke clouded her vision, making her eyes burn and overflow with tears just to stay intact. She couldn't feel her own body, except her side which felt prickly and dull at the same time, and everything was ringing. She could puck up cries in all that ringing, but it was all so distant. And the Force...

...the Force was in utter chaos. She could feeel the nails of the dead in their skin, digging and breaking off into the veil of the Living Force as they were ripped apart. She could still feel their last moment of hope when the ship stopped, and the microsecond of realization and utter, blind panic when it exploded.

She wanted to curl up into a ball and die. Anything to make that feeling stop. And she tried to, but she couldn't move. She felt paralyzed, and so she laid there, amid the bruning wreckage and the glassed sand.

"--arriss--"

But one she voice picked up among the ringing and the screams.

"Barriss." she heard the voice say again, and she found the strength to look up. A face obscured in shadow, a cracked lens on one side and a reddened eye in the other, was looming over her in the darkness. Slowly, Barriss realized that she was looking at A'Sharad Hett, his outfit and mask in tatters, burned and bruised, who was holding up a piece of machinery from the ship over them. "Barriss, can you hear me?"

Barriss dimly nodded. 

"Good. I couldn't shield us well enough--or the area--or--" Hett seemed to choke. There was a lot of smoke in their little alcove. "I'm holding up his thing with my shoulders, but I can't lift it." Hett said, managing to speak again. "I'll try and use the Force. Just stay conscious, okay? Stay--"

A mighty wind came down around their alcove, and the alcove itself was wrenched away from them, the blinding twin suns of Tatooine peering out through the smoke. Barriss breathed a little better. Her side warmed and sharp needles started tearing through it, spreading. She'd been injured. "Quick, oxygen and bacta patches." she heard a calm, decisive voice say, and a small, lithe figure stepped over them.

"No--no bacta." Hett coughed, trying to push he figure away, to no avail. "Give it to the civilians, Luke."

"Ash, you need it too. You gotta make it to the hospital."

"Give it to her, then." Hett said, and then, as if realizing something, touched the side of his face where his mask had burned away. He swore in a language Barriss had never heard of, and ripped a strip of cloth to cover his exposed skin. "Fuck." he swore again, this time in Basic. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--"

"Ash, listen to me, take the bacta, you're going into shock--"

"You don't get it." he told Luke. "You don't get it."

Barriss felt an oxygen mask being applied to her mouth, and her head cleared.

"Easy." a soothing voice told her, and as Barriss blinked she found herself staring into the golden eyes of a green-skinned Togruta. "You've got a nasty gash in your side and quite a collection of minor burns. I think A'Sharad managed to absorb part of the explosion--he and Luke can do that--but it still hit you." Barriss was breathing decidedly better now, and she held the portable oxygen tank as the Togruta applied first a bacta spray and then a bacta patch to the hurt on her side--which was noe hurting a great deal more. "How many fingers am I holding up?" the Togruta held up two fingers, and Barriss mimicked the action. "Good. Great. I'm Korian. Korian Maas. Can you recall your name?"

"Barriss Offee." Barriss coughed, and Korian gently held her stable as she was wracked by spasms, rasping for air. "Shit."

"We'll get you treated ASAP. The nearest hospital--"

"I'm a medic. A Jedi medic. I can put myself into a healing trance."

"That's impressive." the figure from before said, and Barriss saw it coalesce into a thirty-something Human with blonde hair that had started to gray at the sideburns. "There's a lot of people who need a medic right now, Barriss Offee."

"I can help--" Barriss tried to say, but she was wracked by coughs again.

"Not now. Right now you need help yourself. When you'll be back to form, you'll be able to help as much as you want." the Human gently touched her temple, sky blue eyes staring into her. "Now rest." the Human said, and their eyes became the sky.

 

-line break-

 

When she came to, Barriss laid in a hospital bed. She blinked, sat up, and stared into the tired brown eyes of a Human in a white coat. "Hi," said the Human, making no note of it. "I'm Dr. Karla Darklighter."

"B-Barriss Offee."

"I know. The Chairperson told me you were probably to be assigned to my hospital." the woman said. "Which is weird, because I don't work here."

"Oh."

"I work in Mos Pelgo."

"I...don't know what that is."

"It's a settlement out in the Wastes, midpoint between Ancorhead and the new capital, Mos Eisley." the doctor said, and looked out of the window. "I wanted to get away from all of this."

"You mean what happened?"

"Yes." Dr. Darklighter said, rolling herself a cigarette. "You were lucky you survived. Apparently, you and Commissar Hett prevented a lot of excess deaths." she took out a box of matches, and lit her cigarette with one of them, taking a drag of it. "Three people died in the ER."

"I...I'm so sorry." Barriss said. "I wish I'd been stronger. I-I really do."

"You did your best." a soothing voice with just a hint of gravel said from the door, and in walked the Human who had put her to sleep. "Like Dr. Darklighter said, what you did prevented a lot of excess deaths. We owe you a debt, Barriss Offee."

Barriss sat up straighter, eyeing this other Human. "And you are?"

"Luke Skywalker." the Human said with a smile, before turning to the doctor. "Smoking in front of a patient, Dr. Darklighter?"

"I still look as young as I am, Skywalker, while you're getting grayer by the day at what, thirty-four? Maybe you should start smoking, too." the doctor bit back with a sarcastic smile. "And besides, the girl's fine. You wizards always seem to be able to bounce back from this kind of stuff."

"I'm a medic." Barriss said. "Knowing how to put oneself in a healing trance is standard Jedi medic training." she turned to Luke, trying to scan them for clues. But they seemed utterly unremarkable. They were only two or three inches taller than her, wearing the same coat and scarf as A'Sharad Hett, but with a brown-orange combat pants and a blue combat jacket with chest armor instead of Tusken or Jedi robes. Dark blue khol lined their eyes, but she couldn't tell if it was a fashion choice or it was to protect their eyes from the sun. Their face looked quite similar to that of Ahsoka's Master, with a lot more lines, and tiny lightning-like scars dancing at the contours of their face. She wondered if they were related.

This was it. This was the person Ahsoka wanted her to spy on...somehow. And she couldn't detect a smidge of the Force in them, despite the telepathic trick from before. 

"How is Master Hett?" she asked before she could catch herself. Hett wasn't part of the Order anymore, there was no reason for honorifics, and technically they were equals now. 

Skywalker didn't seem to like it either, judging by the face they made at the word 'Master'. "Comrade Hett has been placed under clinical observation. He took the full brunt of the blast, managing to absorb and dissipate it only in part. He'll need time to rest and recuperate." Skywalker explained, taking a chair and sitting on it by Barriss's bedside--the opposite by which Dr. Darklighter sat. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions about the bombing."

"So you're sure it's a bombing." Dr. Darklighter said, taking another drag from her cigarette. "Your forensics work fast, Skywalker."

Skywalker produced a small case and opened it on Barriss's bed. Twisted fragments and lumps of metal lay strewn about in it, until Skywalker waved their one gloved hand and they reconfigured themselves in the shape of a small device with two ends: a cutting tool and a a perforating one, with an arrowhead piston. "This is a deceptively simple machine. It's made for pulling apart vaporators and speeders in bad condition, whose hulls have been warped by the extreme heat of the desert: one end disconnects the cable, the other punches through the metal. Can you guess how it was used?"

"You're the mechanic, or so you always say."

"Someone put it between the fuel cells of the cargo ship which almost razed Tonra marketplace today, the Binto Charis; First, they made the one end disconnect the cells from the engines, sending the ship in freefall." Skywalker explained, never taking their eyes off Dr. Darklighter. "Then, when the fall was stopped, they made the other end punch right through the cells, igniting the coaxium inside and blowing it up with everybody inside." Skywalker said. "Normally, this device serves to prevent people from blowing up. Every moisture farm has one, especially those that are very isolated from civilization and need to function as near-self-sufficient units. You see where I'm going, Karla?"

Dr. Darklighter crumpled the cigarette into her ashtray. "If you want to say something, Skywalker, just say it. I haven't seen my brother in months and you know that; so I have no idea what this little show of yours is for." she spat. "Your cryptic Jedi bullshit is only infuriating, and nothing else."

"Then would you go please check for a moment on Comrade Hett while I talk with my fellow Jedi about cryptic Jedi bullshit, since she's a witness?"

"Just send me home before the end of the day. You gave me a hospital to run." Dr. Darklighter said, then got up and stormed out of the door. Skywalker didn't bother to look at her, putting the half-melted device back into the evidence case.

Barriss looked at them. "You suspect her."

Skywalker shook her their head. "Not her." they said. "But tell me, do you think she was telling the truth?"

"Are you...asking me to help you investigate this?" Barriss said, taken aback. "I thought I'd be the one under investigation, seeing as it happened as soon as I got here." she added, and then a chill ran down her spine. "How do you know I'm not involved in it? Did you look inside my head?"

"I'd never do that without your consent. The Force is just telling me that you're to be trusted."

Then the Force must be playing some sick joke either on you or on me or on us both, Barriss thought, I am supposed to spy on you.

"She seems...troubled." Barriss said, looking back to the chair the doctor was stting on just a moment prior. "She doesn't want to be here, to have the conversation you want to have. She doesn't want to even think about it, or to think at all."

"You're good." Skywalker said. "Dr. Darklighter is the estranged sister of Huff Darklighter, formerly the biggest water magnate of Tatooine, second only to Jabba. He controlled whatever little food industry Tatooine had, the whole water market bent to him, and he was the only one free from Jabba's water taxes."

Barriss frowned. "Formerly, however."

Skywalker smiled. "Exactly. I don't know if you've done your reading on our economy, but the most basic tenet of a socialist society is that resources are to be owned by the people and the people's government, not by business owners to impose their own prices on them for their own maximized profit. So the people and the people's government need to seize and redistribute those resources from those business owners."

"Right. That's what happened here, no?"

"Indeed. And how do you think those business owners might have taken it?"

Barriss gripped the covers in grim realization. She turned to Luke, hoping that they could dispel the daunting certainty she now felt...but they were of no help.

The face of Luke Skywalker was, most of the time, unusually bright. Everyone who met them was always awestruck by how unassuming and gentle they seemed to be. They were the personification of sunshine.

But in that moment, their face was darker than the void of space.

"Someone," they said, so slowly and deliberately than each letter sucked the warmth out of the room, "Is going to die."

 

-line break- 

 

Beru Whitesun's office was supposed to be peaceful, that morning. But instead, the Commissar for Economic Development now found herself staring at the reports of a terrorist attack.

She'd seen people being blown up before. This was Tatooine, after all. Here it was not an euphemism to say that slavery was a thing of yesterday. But this...this was on another scale.

Half of Tonra marketplace had been leveled. Countless damages had been inflicted to the surrounding houses. Three people dead of their injuries, fifty wounded. And four more people dead in the ship, carbonized, torn to shreds by the bursting hull and insides of the freighter. 

And she had to draw up the costs. She had to sit down, swallow the horrible sight she had seen, and write down how much it would mean in money terms. Because it was her job--because she'd gotten herself elected to do it.

Right now she just wanted to run away from it. And luckily, a knock to her door came to relieve her. "Come in," she said, "It's open."

"You look horrible, Beru." a cigarette entered the room, followed by the rest of Karla Darklighter.

"Charming as always, Karla." Beru replid as Karla plopped herself down on the chair in front of her desk. "What can I do for you?"

"You can start by getting your boss off my back."

Beru rubbed her forehead. "For the hundredth time, Karla, Luke's not my boss. This is not a business." she sighed. "What, did they question you?"

"Not outright. And you know damn well they can't. I was in Mos Pelgo when the tragedy happened--Skywalker is just getting on my case because of my brother."

"Well, your brother's never been that happy about the way we're running things now. Have you forgot on which side he was when Tonra marketplace got its name?"

"'We'? Oh, so it's not just Skywalker and their Tusken friend who decide around here, when they can be bothered to show up at all instead of gallivanting around the Galaxy like a boogeyman."

"Look, drop the Tusken stuff. It's not cool--"

"Damn right, you should be the least cool of them running around in our towns. They killed Shmi, for gods' sake!"

"You think I don't know? You think i wasn't there when my husband's stepbrother brought home the corpse of a woman I loved like an aunt?" Beru bit back. "Hating the Tuskens stopped making sense after learning that Anakin murdered the whole village of those that killed Shmi--down to the smallest of children--and meeting the only surviving one of them. They've been through enough shit--worse than we were under Jabba. We had slavery, Jabba's oppression--it never made any sense to be enemies. And it doesn't make sense to keep hating them now. There's been enough death already."

"Not enough for someone, it seems." Karla said, and Beru's gaze sharpened on her.

"Yeah."

"Huff would never stoop that low. He'd never kill those people." Karla took a nervous drag of her cigarette. "What about the Tusken? I've heard he and the other new Jedi stopped the ship from falling on the city and where...levitating it with their Force magic when it exploded."

"Now you're reaching. A'Sharad almost diead himself trying to save people, this morning." Beru said. "I think you should collaborate with Luke, Karla."

"You can't be seriously saying that, Beru! We've been friends forever--"

"That's exactly why I'm telling you that."

"I don't know where my brother is! I've had zero contact with him. You know he never liked me training as a doctor instead of helping with the farm--"

"Yeah, never got why, he had plenty of people slaving away at his twenty farms--"

"Don't use that word, Beru. Our family was slaves like yours not two generations ago--"

"Yeah and it climbed up pretty far in that short time, didn't it? I wonder how did it manage that." Beru snarked. "Neither my parents or Owen's ever stooped so low as using slaves to get more capital to buy more farms, or underpaying the workers. Your brother and his parents before him had a stranglehold on the water market, and got protected by Jabba because of that."

"Well you--you're not even a farmer anymore. These people gave your farm to someone else, and you helped them to do the same to Huff, take everything away from him. Huff freed a lot those slaves. He offered them work afterwards on those farms you decry so much--heck, he even helped White Sun!"

"Does it negate the other things he did? No, it fucking doesn't, Karla, deal with it. And besides, one, I gave my farm to collective use, I couldn't have stayed there alone, the only one left, and two, it's bullshit that we sold water anyway. Everybody needs it to live more than anything, and forcing other people to pay to live, thus forcing them to work for you at the pay you set, at the rate you set? How's that better than enslaving them, huh?" Beru asked, slamming her hand onto the table, and Karla jumped back in her chair. "It's sick, as soon as you think about it for more than two seconds. People get free water now--and I don't mind not farming it myself anymore if I can see that it's kept free for everybody. So, you got a problem with that?"

Karla looked away. "No." she said, quietly, and Beru nodded.

"Good." she said, and sighed. "You're my friend, Karla. I don't want to see you in trouble. Luke has a right to be supicious of your brother, and they just want your help."

"They just seem so...alien. When they look at us, it's like they know us better than we know ourselves. Like they know things about us that we don't."

"I guess that it's just them being a Jedi."

"Yeah, and all that power? It's terrifying how they never go nuts, never try to use it to kill us all for shits and giggles. I don't know what I'd do with it."

"They don't because they're a good person. And what would you do with it? Face, it, Karla, you'd use it to heal everybody easier at the hospital because you never liked working too much." Beru said, and she and Karla shared a chuckle.

"Yeah...I guess you're not wrong." Karla sighed. "You know, for a time I thought you'd ended up together, Beru. You always look so close. And they look at you in such a sad way."

"After I lost Owen, I felt I couldn't love anybody else. He was just...a good man, you know? Someone who tried his best despite not being the best, didn't pretend he was more than he let on." Beru said. "Luke always look like they have the entire world on their shoulders. I have no idea what they're carrying inside them, and I'd never dare to ask. Did you know that when Owen died, they were as heartbroken as I was?"

"You told me Owen took the shot that was meant for them."

"They cried for Owen, Karla. They cried for him. By way of Shmi, Owen was as family to them as I am for him. No, I could never end up with Luke, and Luke would never try anything with me. We just...helped each other through it all, as family does."

"It's still weird, how they were a stranger to everybody, or that Shmi never talked about them."

"She never liked to talk about the time before Anakin. It was a very dark time for her."

"Yeah, I can imagine." Karla said, and shuddered. "Thank God we weren't born slaves."

"That's why me, Luke and the others are doing all of this, Karla. We don't want anybody else being a slave, harim or in any other way."

"I suppose you're right." Karla sighed. "And I suppose I'm sorry for shouting at you."

"It's okay." Beru said. "I..." her comm rang. "...I wasn't expecting any calls." Beru frowned, and Karla just blinked, confused. Beru picked up the call. "Yes?"

-line break-"

"Beru! Thank the Gods you picked up." Kitster Banai replied from the other end. "We have a situation here."

"Here where?"

"Mos Pelgo mining center, silicax division." Kitster replied. "Hang on, I'll put you on speaker."

"Yes, put her on speaker." grumbled another voice, and Kitster bit back an insult in Huttese at the assembled group of technicians blocking the entrance to the mine. "You couldn't get anybody higher up, couldn't you?"

"There's no 'higher up'. We're a committee." Kitster said. "So let's talk it out, alright?" he added, baring his teeth in a smile. "Committee to committee."

"Kitster, what's going on?"

"It's these damn Tuskens, that's what's going on." said one of the techincians. "We can't keep going on like these. These Sand People can't be trained and expected to operate heavy mining machinery in less than a year, especially when they can't almost speak nary a word of Basic."

"Well, if you let us do the training, we'd get it done faster." spoke a woman from the workers. "But I guess ya techies need to justify your fancy salary anyhow."

"How dare you--do you know how much our pay's been cut in the last year? This is state of the art excavation equipment for mining silicax! We can't just let any hick operate it. We used to get twice the credits back when J--"

"Yeah, but Jabba could afford it just 'cos he bought most of us." another worker called the tech out. "What, you'd like slavery back to get a raise?"

"Oh, don't you start with the sob stories, this is all preposterous. We've been falling behind on productivity ever since the 'Central Committee' thought it was a wise idea to widen the workforce with Tuskens--"

"Hey, I'm not gonna go back to workin' ten hours when I can get six from the same pay!"

"We used to stay on the clock ten hours ourselves, so what? We'd all get this done much faster if we went back to that!" 

"Yeah, but ya spent those ten hours in the observation room, not down a mineshaft like us!"

"Well, you want our jobs? Fine! Then why don't you spend five to six years at an offworld college like we did, come back here when you're done and see how you do?" another tech shouted over the argument. "I doubt productivity could fall even more than it already has due to you Tusken-lovers!"

A man from of the Tusken worker delegation barked out a reply in his language, and Kitster translated: "Hok'tar says that even if they can't speak Basic, they can understand you perfectly, so you should calm down before you say something you can regret. Besides, this is Tusken land. It's only fair that Tusken hands work it." he said, before the Tusken delegate barked out a curse and another reply. Kitster cursed himself, if only mentally, and added: "They also say that if you don't like it, they don't care, they've done without these mines for thousands of years--but mine or no mine, they won't stand for allowing you on their soil with that tone."

"That's a threat." one tech replied, even if he looked slightly paler. "We won't stand for that. Not from mindless savages--"

And indeed, the Tuskens could understand Basic perfectly, for Hok'tar, quick as a blaster, grabbed the technician and punched his lights out.

"They've done it! They've fucking done it, the savages!" One of the techs cried out, jumping on Hok'Tar, and more people joined in as soon as he did. Kitster tried to step in, but resulted only in getting a punch himself and rolling into the dust as the situation devolved into a full-fledged brawl.

"Well, fuck." he said, mumbling into his comm as he tried to pick himself out and avoid being stomped on. "Any chance ya might send us A'Sharad, Beru?"

"A'Sharad's in the hospital. Try to keep fighting down to a minimum, I'll try to contact Luke."

"Good, but make it quick--fighting's already over the minimum." Kitster thought to add a quip, or snark some more; but the distinct sound of a blaster going off and a body falling in the sand blew all his thoughts away, and he could only think of saying: "Shit."

He looked back. The brawl had stopped, and a clean line had been cut through it. Hok'Tar laid in the arms of two other Tuskens, clutching a bleeding blaster wound in his chest and wheezing. A lone technician stood in front of him, drawn blaster still smoking, panting. His broken nose spewed blood on his lips and chin. And he was the same technician Hok'Tar had punched. "You wanted this." he said. "You wanted this."

And in his head Kitster Chanchani Banai could only repeat: Shit.

-line break-

Barriss pressed herself against the door of the hospital room where A'Sharad Hett laid, and where Skywalker had disappeared in, trying to listen to their conversation. There seemed to be no cameras in the corridor, but no nurses either. No surveillance to catch her in the act.

Maybe it was too easy, but she would take the chance anyway.

"Ash, you're being too difficult about this."

"Why? I can heal myself. There's enough bacta for the wounded, this way."

"We have a new medic and we need you back on your feet as soon as possible. We can spare the bacta, and Force healing takes too much out of you. What's this machismo?"

"You take that back. You have no right to call it that."

"Why? Is it a cultural thing?"

"You don't get bacta in the Desert, Luke. You don't have the luxury to be a burden. You lose a limb, you can't hold the garderfii stick anymore, and so you kill yourself. I'm lucky enough to have them all."

"And what if you lost one? Would you still kill yourself or accept a replacement now that we can give you one? You're not in the Desert anymore, Ash. We have the resources to spare now, there's nobody anymore hoarding them away from us and everybody who needs them."

A pause.

"Please, Ash. I feel a disaster coming in the Force. We need you."

"That's all you need me for, huh?"

Luke was silent, for a moment. "I don't want you see you beat yourself this way."

"I got half my mask blown off. Barriss probably saw my face...if someone knows, I'm dead as a Tusken."

"Ash. It's not your fault. And you shouldn't think that, you're not any less a man of your values if you lose your mask."

"You don't get it. You weren't born in it. You can't ask me to throw thousands of years of my culture to the wind here, in the midst of it."

"I know. But I don't wanna see you suffer, either."

A chuckle. "Are you getting attached, Jedi Skywalker? That's not good for us."

"It's not good if you make it toxic. If you force yourself to not care about people, or grow possessive of them. And I care about you, Ash."

"How nice. You'll make Kori jealous."

"Oh piss off. We're not about that and I just told you. You deserve to be happy, and not punish yourself like this."

"Well I don't have the luxury of having lost everything and being able to swagger off like a new man like you, as if everything there was before didn't matter anymore, Luke! I don't have tha! I..."

"You think it's a luxury?" Hett's burst of anger dissipated in the Force and went cold at those words. Yet Barriss could feel nothing from Skywalker, just like before. She pressed herself to the door, but Skywalker's comm beeped. "Yes." a pause, and now she did feel something from Skywalker--a thick cloud of unease and doubt. "I'll get there stat."

"The Mos Pelgo mine. I'll come with you, I'm the Tusken representative--"

"You gonna take the bacta?"

Hett fell silent.

"If you come in this condition, you'll only get wounded worse, or even killed. And as I said, I don't want to see you hurt."

Still more silence.

"Alright. I'll do my best. You get better your way."

Barriss detached herself immediately from the door--and was met with the frowning visage of Luke Skywalker.

"I wasn't listening." she said before she could catch herself, and Luke raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't ask if you were." Luke said, closing the door behind them and walking off. "Come. We need a medic that can swing a lightsaber."

"What?" Barriss blanched, following them. "I-I don't wanna kill anybody. I came here n-not to be a soldier anymore."

"Then let's hope we can resolve it without violence." Luke threw open the hospital door and stepped into the nearest landspeeder. "Because I'd really like that." they said, and as they turned to look back at Barriss, the young Jedi could see unfathomable tiredness in those eyes.

Barriss stood firmer on her feet. "I'd really like that, too." she said, stepping into the speeder.

Notes:

I hope you're liking this new plotline, I thought it would be nice to go deeper in the struggles of a real socialist system, so as not to present it as utopic. Whatever thoughts you might have on what you've just read, as always, feel free to let me know about them. :)

TEASER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER:

Barriss Offee thought long and hard about it. The barrell of the blaster aimed to Luke Skywalker's temple could solve a lot of problems to the Republic, and let her come back to Coruscant with little problem. Could she do it? Could she let it happen?

Chapter 11: Destabilization attempts (Part Two)

Summary:

Stretched thin and surrounded by new wildcards, our heroes have to face off against some familiar faces, testing the limits of their capabilities...and Tatooine's resolve!

Notes:

Updates are gonna switch from thursday to friday from now on! Hope you won't mind, and that you enjoy the chapter :3

Chapter Eleven: Destabilization attempts (Part Two)

Mos Pelgo mining outpost...after the disaster

"This...this is insane." Barriss blurted out, covering her mouth at the sight. "Who would do a thing like this?" she asked Luke as they got out of the speeder and surveyed the smoldering wreckage of the Mos Pelgo mining facilty. Bodies were strewn everywhere, the camp had been set fire to, and the pit was billowing smoke up into the air.

"The use of cycler rifles would make you think about Tuskens." Luke commented, examining one of the bodies that were still intact.

"You think they did that?" Barriss paled, pointing at another burning wreckage--but this was no vehicle, no outhouse, no building. It was a pile of bodies, coating the air with the stench of charred flesh. Luke frowned, deep in thought.

"Do I?" they said. "Barriss, take a look at the uniforms on the bodies."

"They look like workers?..."

"Exactly. Ordinary miners. No technicians."

"So the ones in the pire..."

"The ones in the pire are the Tuskens."

"How do you know? They could be the technicians."

"Why would the Tuskens differentiate? Why would they burn the bodies of technicians but not workers? We're all alien settlers to them. Also, they have nothing to gain from this violence."

"I don't know? Maybe revenge for the bombing on Knight Hett?" Barriss said. "I don't know anything about your political system. Maybe they want more like Darklighter."

"And that's exactly what they want you to think." said Luke, checking another body. "Whoever was here took the technicians and Kitster away and burned the Tuskens so that we'd have no evidence."

"And we still don't."

"Don't we? We're Jedi, Barriss. We might not have the gift of psychometry like some of our brethren, but if you concentrate on the Force, what do you feel?"

Barriss pressed her lips together. A nauseating miasma of darkness enveloped her. She heard rifles crack, saw flashes of blaster fire, different voices crying out for help or in anger in different languages. It was a repeat of the explosion from that morning, only longer, more drawn out, and ten times as excruciating. She tried to center herself in the Force to not lose herself in that chaos, and for the first time felt something from Skywalker--a bright, solid light emanating calm, as if to give her an anchor. She took it, and then she could see more clearly. In obscured silouhettes of emotion she saw Tusken workers side with the settler ones and be cut down by an impossibly long rifle, a young man with a metal arm wrestling a blaster away from an older one, and then...the unmistakable noise of a lightsaber. 

"A Jedi." she breathed, opening her eyes. "A Jedi--or someone with Jedi powers--was here when it all went down. It was--it was horrible."

"Good work." Skywalker said, catching her. "Now take slow, deep breaths. Let what you just saw flow back into the Force."

Barriss did just that, and kept focusing on their presence as they gently held her by the shoulders. It was like staring into a placid, endless sky, a gentle breeze brushing over her. Sunlight shone throughtout, warm and bright, filling her with calmness. But it wasn't a simple light in the Force, bound by the confines of a person's body like with everyone else. It seemed to go on forever, as if it was the Force itself.

She had seen people contain massive presences in the Force before. Master Yoda was a warm, enveloping tree. Anakin Skywalker felt like a star, like a sun, a turbulent sea of energy burning under his skin. But there was no distinguishing where Luke Skywalker ended and where the Force began.

"Why couldn't I sense you before?" she asked Skywalker as they let her go. "Who are you, really? Where have you come from?"

"From the Force, like everyone else." Skywalker stated. "I'm not special. I just had good teachers." they fished in their pockets, taking out a water canteen. "Here. We need to find clues for where they went and who took them, which means we'll probably have to walk under the Suns a lot."

"Thanks." Barriss accepted the canteen. "I take the Force didn't show you where the survivors were taken, however."

"No. There's something clouding this place in the Force. And it's not just the darkness from the massacre."

"That Force user I saw in my vision...they may have done something else to this place."

"Luckily there are alternative ways to track people, in the Desert."

"What ways? The sand looks always the same to me."

"Not quite." Luke led her to the north side of the pit. Between overturned structures and twisted metal laid a strange, disturbed spot in the sand--the cracked earth underneath was peeking out. The spot had a wide, open base, trailing off and disappearing back under the sand as it trailed away from the settlement. "Speeder don't leave tracks capable of staying for long. The Desert wind buried everything...except for when the speeder starts. The sudden, concentrated burst of energy from the engines and exhausts leads a deeper mark."

Barriss took out a compass. "The trail goes North." she noted. "It took three hours for us to get here. I estimate that the battle that took place lasted less than ten minutes." she said, and took out a compass and a pen. "There's a group of canyons, an old abandoned town, and Mos Pelgo. If Hiff Darklighter is behind it, he wouldn't risk bringing prisoners to where his sister works. Not unless she was in on his plans."

"You catch on quickly." Skywalker noted. "It just leaves the canyons and the ruins. However--" Skywalker tensed up mid-sentence, and before Barriss could ask what was wrong, she was body-slammed to the ground by the other Jedi, while a crackling bolt of energy barrelled through the spot they were just in.

"Skywalker!" the voice bellowed, a deep, savage roar twisted into Basic. "Get up, slowly and with your hands out, Jedi."

To Barriss's surprise, Skywalker complied. "I don't suppose you could show yourself as well, stranger?"

"Honest request. Keep your heads behind your head." the voice chuckled, and there was a rumbling of metal, as if machinery was being moved, and out of a burned building stepped what could best be described as a cross between a walking tank and an armored knight, thick plates of scarred grey durasteel painted with red and blue crests piled together into the approximate shape of a humanoid, only wide as he was tall--and he was tall two and a half meters--carrying a large ionized plasma cannon and a smaller blaster that was still as big as Barriss's torso.

"Durge." she said to Skywalker, in shock. "I heard whispers of him from the Clones in the front line, stalking and wiping away units without a trace. They say he's a Gen'Dai, the last of his species. They say he's impossibly old--that he fought with the Sith against the Jedi more than a millennia ago."

"It makes a man happy to be so remembered." Durge remarked, face obscured by his helmet, only the smallest glint of yellow behind his eyeslits. "And I must say, Luke Skywalker, you make fond memories of that time bubble to the surface from deep within my memory. It was not uncommon back then, when the Old Republic had disintegrated, for Jedi to claim a world of their own to rule and lead like feudal lords."

"On this planet the people rule themselves." Skywalker stated, face neutral, but Barriss saw them shift their hands behind their head, messing with their right wrist. "Did you cause this massacre, Durge?"

"Yes and no. I helped, but my colleague helped."

"The Force user."

"Perhaps you might be familiar eith her. Her name is Aurra Sing, a good friend of our mercenary colleague Cad Bane--whom you got killed. She really took that matter to heart, you see. She wants to settle the score."

"Then why are you hete instead of her?"

"Because we know you ain't killed Bane, Skywalker--it was the little brat that follows you around, the son of Jango Fett." Durge said, and Skywalker's whole body twitched. "Good Aurra helped Bane teach the boy many tricks--she'll make it slow and painful, while I keep you busy here." the hunter added, and Barriss could feel Skywalker's presence cloud and stir in the Force, becoming more and more distinct. Something was bubbling underneath their skin; something Barriss didn't want to touch. "Your other friends are not with her, of course--they're with our customers."

"In Mos Pelgo, I presume. Where your customers can shield himself with innocent people."

"Indeed--but the info won't do you any good. You two Jedi are gonna die here, without being able to tell anybody." Durge stated, and charged up his cannon. "Any last words, Jedi? This is not a shot you can deflect or dodge with your little lightsabers."

"As a matter of fact, yes, Durge: I have a radio in my hand." Luke pulled up the skin on their right wrist to reveal a hiden comm between the servos of their prosthetic, smiling daringly at Durge. "You heard it all, Kori?"

"ETA to Mos Pelgo in two hours." the clear voice of the Togruta man Barriss had seen yesterday came out from the speaker. "We'll have Kitster and the others out in no time. Give that son of a bitch Hell."

"Don't wait for me." Skywalker's face their face seemed to transfigurate from the guarded serenity of moments prior, a twinkle in their eyes and their smile turning downright feral. "Barriss. That goes for you too. Take Sing down. Boba should be with Hoar, at the old Lehon exacavation twelve klicks to the SouthEast."

"Nice try. Not gonna happen." growled Durge, swinging his cannon in the direction of Skywalker's and Barriss's speeder. Luke istinctively threw their hand out and the cannon swung wildly off course, the blast going wild into the air, and Durge was sent flying into the ground, kicking up a dust cloud. Without missing a beat, the elder Skywalker turned to Barriss. "Well?" they shouted. "What are you waiting for? We don't have much time!"

But behind their back Barriss could already see Durge getting back up, aiming his smaller blaster at Skywalker's head. And in that moment Barriss Offee thought long and hard about it. The barrel of the blaster trained on Luke Skywalker's head could solve a lot of problems to the Republic, and let her come back to Coruscant with little problem. Could she do it? Could she let it happen? Could she let Ashoka down like that, let Skywalker get killed, let this place crumble, the kids that Aurra Sing was haunting be slaughtered? Her Jedi duties took precedence in her life, they'd always had.

And in that moment, Barriss Offee made her choice as a Jedi.

The slightest push of a technical component inside a blaster could make the tibanna charge explode--and explode it did, blowing the weapon apart with Durge's hand.

"Jedi scum!" Durge roared through the pain, pointing his cannon once again at the Jedi--and this time it was already charged, and aimed solely at Barriss. Barriss froze on the spot as the blast came. This was it. She'd made her choice and it had all been for nothing. It had all--

--it had stopped.

The blast had stopped in midair, energy frozen and crackling at the same time. And Luke Skywalker was holding their hand outstretched towards that massive blast of energy, keeping it in place.

"How?..." Barriss mouthed in disbelief, but Skywalker just looked back at her with a smile.

"Come on, Barriss, I thought Ahsoka had told you. As you know..." with that last syllable, the blast moved once again and hit Durge head on, knocking him back into a still-intact fuel tank and causing a massive, blinding explosion. The Gen'Dai screamed in agony, and the strange Desert Jedi who had blown Barriss's cover and yet still chose to protect her only gave the girl a reassuring smile as an inferno raged behind them. "...I'm Luke Skywalker, and I'm supercool." the Human said, his Force presence displaying no animosity towards her, only pure, unadulterated trust. "Now go, please. I'll keep him occupied."

Barriss could only nod, too shocked to say anything. She climbed in the speeder and drove away at top speed, leaving the two warriors alone.

For Durge was not dead. Shaking in anger, the Gen-Dai walked out of the flames, his burned and mangled skins reforming as if new where the plates of his armor had been torn open.

"I was wrong. You're not like the Jedi I used to fight, but neither like the ones of this time. You are a challenge." the indestructible warrior stated, still aflame. "I'm going to enjoy killing you, Starkiller." 

"I have still too much to do to die here." Luke Skywalker replied as they drew their lightsaber and blaster. "I'm the only one able to decide on the hour of my death, mercenary."

Durge growled. "And why's that?"

Luke Skywalke only smiled. "Because I'm Luke Skywalker...and I'm supercool."

 

 

-line break-

 

 

When Korian Maas received his partner's transmission, he had no way of knowing that his ETA of two hours to Mos Pelgo would have been a gross miscalculation--and for the better. He had been in Mos Espa's main hospital, interrogating the wounded as per the investigation on that morning's bombing, and when Luke's transmission had come, he'd been taking a break by the door of a certain Tusken Jedi. And as soon as he'd told Luke that ETA, he wasted no time in kicking down A'Sharad Hett's door and shoving a full pack of bacta patches into his arms.

"All right, off you go, you've gotta come with me, Luke needs us in Mos Pelgo."

"Dank farrik," A'Sharad swore, breaking out of his healing trance. "What are you on about?"

"That girl you were with, Barriss, is heading straight for Hoar and Boba at their training grounds to protect them from Aurra Sing," Korian explained as he dragged A'Sharad out of bed, "We've gotta go to Mos Pelgo. Huff Darklighter has got Kitster and who knows who else hostage there, while Luke is facing off against an evil indestructible mercenary killer from millennia ago."

"I know I should have gone with them." A'Sharad groaned, and tried shoving the bacta packs back into Korian's arms. "Listen, you stay here, this plan is completely backwards, I have to go protect Hoar--"

"No thank you. In the condition you're in, you're better suited to normal thugs than bloodthirsty ex-Jedi--"

"Fuck you, Maas, alright? Hoar's my Padawan, and Boba is Luke's charge, they can't entrust them to a complete stranger--"

"A complete stranger you know and trusted enough to help you this morning--"

"Yeah because I was there--"

"ENOUGH!" Beru Whitesun bellowed trhough the open door, startling them. "You're bickering like children while you could be already on the way. A'Sharad, take the kriffin' bacta."

"There are people who need it more--"

"Then take it with you. You'll give it to the people of Mos Pelgo when everything inevitably goes to shit because you didn't take your medication and weren't able to do your duty at your best."

A'Sharad swallowed thickly behind his mask. "Alright." he said, and ripped the pack open.

Once in the street, they found Karla Darklighter waiting for them with a landspeeder. "This piece of junk isn't fast enough, Beru."

"Alright, pull the hood open a sec."

"You're joining us?" A'Sharad asked her in disbelief.

"If you're gonna tear up the town where I work and live, I better be there to help everybody else who isn't as indestructible as you kriffin' Jedi." Karla remarked as Beru started pulling wires from the engine.

"What the hell are you doing?" Korian asked. "We need to go right now!"

"Yeah, and we gotta get there fast." Beru said. "Give me a hand. Switch that power coupling to the next servo over--right there--transmission valve should be calibrated backwards--"

"Guess this is where Luke gets the mech knack from." Korian muttered under his breath, following her instructions.

"There!" Beru said, slamming the hood down. "All aboard, everyone!"

They floored it, blowing through Mos Espa at rocket speed--and their speed only doubled when they entered the open desert.

"Go harder, Karla!" Beru called over the wind from shotgun. "You can push it!"

"You still know all that stuff from when we were kids, huh?"

"Had to--me and Owen had to run that farm ourselves!"

"Harsh but fair. Guess you're getting vindicated, Beru." Karla winced. "If Huff's really in it, I'll eat my words--and make him eat all the bullshit he's ever said."

"You're decided, huh?"

"If he's behind this mess, he killed innocent people, Beru. We heard the whole thing through Kitster's comm, you were there. I can't let that slide." Karla barely turned back at A'Sharad. "And I'm willing to ally with you people to make him stop."

"Touching." Hett snarked, pressing a bacta patch under his robes. "Do you really want to know what it means if we find out that he's had my brothers killed?"

"I'd rather nobody else died today." Karla said, pushing the accelerator even harder, distances whizzing past them. "Not even him."

"He's your brother." Korian said. "Luke would respect that."

"Oh? And why's that?" A'Sharad asked, voice dripping with venom, and Korian bit his tongue. He'd said too much. Luke still hadn't told their full story to anybody but him.

"He defended Anakin before Hoar, remember?" Beru said, thankfully saving him. "You know how Luke is."

"This goes even beyond that. They started out bombing Tonra Square, for Force's sake, if that's a signal they mean business, I don't know what is. Then they killed Tuskens, and it will only escalate further." A'Sharad stated. "And Luke will not be there."

"No." Korian said. "There'll be Kitster and other people to save--our people. Our shared people. And that's the priority."

"Nice words." A'Sharad scoffed. "You're not even from here."

"If somebody's being kicked down, they're my people. Nationality ain't got nothing to do with it." Korian replied. "You got issues with me, Hett, you either come out with them right now or you save 'em for later when everybody's safe."

A'Sharad turned his gaze to the road. "You said it. The priority is to save Kitster and our people."

Korian fell back in his seat. "Good." he said, having won the argument, but it didn't feel good at all.

 

-line break-

 

Ordinarily, combat training between kids should be straightforward, simple, and as little dangerous as possible, if not entirely foregone.

However, when the kids in question were respectively a Tusken teenager and a Mandalorian preteen, that rule tended to go out of the window.

"Eat flames, beanpole!" Boba shouted as Hoar rolled out of the way of his flamethrower.

"Nice try, shortstack!" Hoar replied, thrusting with his gardeffii stick from underneath, narrowly missing the younger boy's helmet. Boba flipped away, coming down from the wooden structure they'd been fighting on, and blasting away at its base. The structure shook and wobbled, giving Hoar just enough time to somersault away before it crumbled, back down where Boba was, in the upper layer of the hexagonal excavation site they were fighting in, small rows of millennia-old foundations surrounding them under the shade of the mountains.

Hoar wasted no time, rushing Boba as soon as he landed, throwing off his blaster aim--and Boba countered by drawing his wristblade and parrying Hoar's brutal strike.

"You're getting better." Boba praised, an excited, savage smile behind his helmet, one he was sure was mirrored behind Hoar's own mask.

"I can say the same about you." Hoar returned the praise as they separated, resting the gardeffii stick on his shoulder. "Maybe I should teach you how to use the stick, too."

Boba frowned. "Aren't only members of the tribe supposed to?"

"Well, and only Mandalorians are supposed to use Mandalorian weapons, no? And I really wanna try your vambraces--that stuff's so full of tricks."

"It is." Boba commented. "I'm still too small wear the full armor for long--but when I'll be able to, I guarantee you we won't have any more draws, beanpole."

"Bold way to call the times I kick your butt, shortstack." Hoar replied, and the two boys shared a chuckle before falling back to sit down on the foundation bricks of what seemed to be a house.

"You're dumb." Hoar smiled behind the mask, and Boba grinned even wider.

"And you're even dumber." Boba ribbed him. "At least I've got the excuse that I'm two years younger than you!"

"Respect your elders, then."

"You sound like your teacher. He's such a square!"

"Well at least he's mature, not like your own!"

"Well at least Luke can tell a joke!" the two boys glared at each other, before sliding off the bricks and into the sand with a sigh.

"One thing's for sure," Hoar commented, "They're both incredibly sad."

Boba glanced at him. "You feel that with the Force?"

"Yeah." Hoar said, before returning Boba's gaze. "Do you call your teacher aman too?"

Boba looked away. "Sometimes." he admitted. "It makes me less sad. It makes Luke smile wider than my father used to smile."

"I've never seen aman A'Sharad smile." Hoar said. "We can take our masks off only when we are alone with family members but... he never does it with me." Hoar hugged his knees close to his chest, behind the safety of his gardeffi stick. "I can't understand it. He took me in, but when he got hurt today he didn't even let me come to his hospital."

"His father died too, didn't he?" Boba asked, quietly scraping a speck of sand from his helmet.

"Yeah."

"And he has ten years of Coruscanti Jetii bullshit on attachment in his head."

"...yeah..."

"I think he feels inadequate. That's probably why he argues with Luke all the time."

"What?"

"Think of it. Luke's older, more experienced, has a boyfriend, and likes to have fun, despite having basically gone through what you did multiple times." Boba said, leaning back against the short wall with his arms behind his head. "Your teacher tries to make do without fun and without anyone else. That can't be good when you're under the weight of constant expectations and comparisons."

"...You sure know about that stuff, huh?"

"I know what it's like having a legacy to live up to, and to be constantly compared to someone else. Heck, your teacher has basically the same name as his father."

"...I see what you're talking about." said Hoar. "But what does it have to do with him and Ka'Lir Luke arguing? They're friends."

"Are they? I've only ever seen them together when working or training. I think your teacher's jealous of Luke, too."

"Because he hasn't got a boyfriend like Luke?" Hoar asked, before his mask morphed into an expression of realization. "Or does he want to be Luke's boyfriend? Is that why they argue? But aman argues with Korian too!" Hoar gasped. "Do you think he wants to be Korian's boyfriend, too?"

Boba shrugged. "Could be. Maas is as skittish as a bird, bit he still seems more chill and well-adjusted than your teacher."

"Maybe he needs a boyfriend to become chill himself." Hoar wondered. "Is that why people get boyfriends?"

"How would I know? I'm like, eleven. This is all speculation on my part." Boba replied, and shoved Hoar. "You're thirteen. Shouldn't you know the answer to that already?"

"I don't know." Hoar flushed. "Never felt the need."

"Gods, are you useless."

"Hey, take that back. Do you want me to dangle you upside down with the Force like the last time, buckethead?"

"Bring it on, I'll set you on fire, rag boy!" Boba shoved Hoar again, putting his helmet back on his head.

"That does it, you--" Hoar cut himself off mid-sentence and went rigid. "Boba," he whispered. "There's someone watching us."

Boba primed his vambraces. "Where?"

"The peak behind me--three or four hundred meters up. She feels sickening, Boba. She's strong in the Force, but she feels wrong. I can feel her hatred. It's aiming right for--"

Without waiting for another word, Boba drew his pistol and fired in the air, right at the peak Hoar had identified. Another blaster bolt rained down from on high, meeting his and exploding with it in midair. Boba grabbed Hoar by the arm and dragged him away, blasting their enemy's hiding spot as they ran, but it was all for naught--all his shots were stopped in the same way as the first one, and he and Hoar barely managed to get into cover behind the cracked top of a small temple as Boba's helmet was singed by a stray blast.

"Come on out, little Boba!" the scratchy voice of Aurra Sing called from the peaks as she swapped her blasters for her Czerka Adventurer slugthrower rifle. "Did your father teach you to hide this way?"

"Shut up, Sing!" Boba called, trying to calm his nerves. "He taught you the same thing, didn't he? Otherwise you'd have come down and faced me like a warrior!"

"Now, is that the proper way to talk to your dear old Auntie Aurra?" Sing tsk'd. "Come out. I can promise you I'll give your friend a quick, clean death...mostly."

"What the hell do you want, Sing? I'm not in the mood."

"Fuck your mood." Sing spat. "You killed Bane, boy. He was one of the few shitstains in this shitstain of a Galaxy I would have ever deigned to call a friend. And you betrayed him for this sissy Jedi crap."

"Does it burn you, Auntie Arra?" Boba asked, and then did something Hoar had never seen him do--he laughed. It was a cruel, piercing laughter, cutting right to the marrow in Hoar's bones. "Does it burn you to see that assholes like you and old Bane can't live forever?" Boba asked, and Hoar could feel Boba barely suppressing his rage under all that bravado. It was an act to throw Sing off, and yet he really meant what he was saying.

"Shut up!" Sing snarled, and a slug went flying through the stone wall right between Boba and Hoar. Boba replied by unclipping a grenade from his belt and throwing it over the wall. Predictably, a slug went through it, making it blow prematurely--but the grenade blew only smoke, covering the area. "Son of a bitch--a smoke bomb!" Sing cursed, and tapped into the Force to fire at her targets--but right as she did, blaster bolts blew the rock wall over her head, and she had to dodge debris herself as Boba barrelled through the smoke, shooting with both his blasters. "Alright, you're good." Sing grinned, throwing her rifle on her back and taking out her own blasters. She fired off a couple of shots for good bmeasure, before throwing herself off the peak and onto smaller rock ledges to get down, shooting at Boba as they ran from cover to cover. "You're really good," she remarked, before shoving the boy's blasters from his hands with the Force, "but you don't have the magic, kid." she finished, bringing her blasters back into Boba's face as she kept running towards him. Without missing a beat, Boba shot a ripcord from his vambrace, wrapping it around her legs and making her fall. With a war cry, Boba drew his vibroblade and went in for the kill, but Sing flipped up and kicked him in the helmet, sending him flying. Boba landed flat on his back, but he flipped back up and threw his knives at Sing, sticking them into her blaster's barrels and rendering them unusable. Sing snarled and threw the useless weapons at Boba, who ducked under them and rushed Sing with his wristblade. But he had no chance against the Palliduvan hunter's longer reach--Sing unslung her Czerka rifle and batted him in the face with it, sending him flying and then limp to the floor. She hardly needed the Force to feel the outrage of his companion behind her; what she needed it for was to protect herself from the barrage of small rocks and bricks he managed to throw her. The boy didn't even appear to care that his ploy had failed, because he too attacked head on, swing his gardefii stick at her; but Aurra Sing only needed to tilt her slugthrower to fire a shot that broke the stick in two and make the boy lose his balance and fall to the ground.

"You'll both be dead before the Suns set, Boba." Aurra Sing said as the young Mandalorian started picking himself up. "You two are nothing to me. I killed your little friend's father when I was still a teenager, and he was a Jedi Master. I could have taken your heads clean off back when you were talking with each other." Sing discarded the rifle, and took out twin, flamboyant-bladed knives, smiling like a wolf. "I'm just prolonging your suffering because I enjoy it."

-line break-

Suddenly, A'Sharad Hett went rigid in the speeder. "It can't be," he said in shock, before calling to Karla: "Turn this thing around--we need to go the Jarka excavation site!"

"What?!" Karla exclaimed. "The old ruines?"

"Are you nuts, A'Sharad?" replied Beru. "Our mission is to save Kitster and the others at Mos Pelgo."

"You don't get it--the boys are with Aurra Sing." A'Sharad explained. "I felt her presence. She's a Jedi killer, Beru, a fearsome one--she killed my father eleven years ago."

"Barriss is already on the way--"

"--And she won't be able to do shit against Aurra Sing! When we tried capturing her, it took the Order some of the most skilled Masters of the High council, and we still couldn't kill her! Boba and Hoar need us--"

"And Kitster and the people need us too." Korian remarked, before adding, darkly: "Besides, there's already other help on its way to them."

 

-line break-

 

Luke Skywalker was breathing hard already. They parried and deflected a salvo of blaster shots from Durge with their lightsaber before returning fire, aiming for the gaps in their opponent's armor--but the flesh beneath only twisted and reassembled itself like new after it was hit. Roaring, Durge then grabbed the wreck of a speeder bike and threw it at Luke's cover; Luke swore, rolled away to dodge the incoming projectile, and fired a quick volley of shots to blind Durge. Durge resolved the issue by raising his armored forearm to serve as a shield, then produced a smaller blaster than the one he had beforehand and blasted the pistol out from Luke's grasp. Durge laughed, firimg again and again, and Luke spun into the trakectory of the blasts, deflecting them with their lightsaber and calling upon Durge a barrage of detritus from a nearby burning house. Durge staggered but barrelled through it, parrying Luke's first two strikes with his bare hands. Luke swore as Durge pressed the attack, forcing them to be the one parrying. His plates seemed to be harder than durasteel but not beskar, getting torn only after repeated lightsaber contact. Luke tried to cut inside his defense and go in for his exposed side, but durge batted them away with a backhand straight in the chest.

Luke wheezed as they flew through the hair before landing hard on the sand and rolling away. Alright...maybe they'd made a slight miscalculation.

Notes:

When I was a kid, I used to watch the shit of the old Genndy Tartakovsky Clone Wars cartoon. It eas the paradigm of cool. So yeah, I've got a soft spot for that kind of action, and for ol' Durge. I hope you like this chapter too, I'll leave you the teaser for the next chapter down below:

 

A'Sharad leaned back against the wall, sighing: "I gave Luke a necklace when you departed to look for Maul."
"I think we all saw you do that." Korian checked his blaster. "And I don't mind. We're not exclusive."
A'Sharad went stiff as a board. "I'm not going there, you filthy moron."
"I thought you only gave such gifts to people who are important to you."
"...Yes. It's just..." A'Sharad suppressed a groan. "You're going to think I'm an idiot."
"Wouldn't be much of a difference from before." Korian remarked, sticking his tongue out for hood measure, and A'Sharad flipped him off.
"Fuck you, Maas."
"Once this firefight's over, I'll gladly take you up on that proposition." Korian winked, and A'Sharad choked on air. If the insrgents weren't going to kill him, he was pretty sure Maas would, just by existing.

Chapter 12: Destabilization attempts (Part Three)

Summary:

There are two consequences of socialist revolution in a capitalist world: one, bringing hope to all oppressed people, insipiring more and more efforts of collective liberation against capitalist exploitation...and two, violent reaction from the fascist machinery of capitalism. Having long enjoyed number one, Tattooine is finding out hard about number two.

Notes:

I'm...back. I'm sorry for my absence, to whoever was following this fic. Life sometimes is able to derail even your best efforts to keep a steady, long-running thing going. Depression, stress, overwork...these are things which leave your artistic efforts, even the fun little ones like this fanfic is, in the mud. But, as Dark Souls puts it, you can't risk yourself becoming hollow. I like this fic and people have liked it, and so why not continue writing it? It offers a glimpse into a world where the alienation we live under is being fought and victories achieved, the human people suffering under alienation flourishing and finding solace. That's what Star Wars is to me, that's why I love it, and that's why I want to share this kind of stories with people, and a wonderful community like that of Star Wars is. So...I hope you'll keep reading as I'll keep writing. Enjoy and, as always, keep on pushing. Don't let yourself become hollow.❤️

Chapter Twelve: Destabilization attempts (part three)

 

Mos Pelgo power plant, file room

 

"You're not gonna get put of those cuffs, no matter how hard you try." the fat man stared at Kitster from across the small, dark room. Kitster only paused his messing with said cuffs to spare a glance at him, and kept going. The man too kept going: "Your friends won't come. They wouldn't risk a whole city just to free you."

"Then maybe they'll risk me to free the city." Kitster laughed. "And I'm okay with that."

"Free? They'll run it into the ground." Huff scoffed. "You're all former slaves and bandits. You don't know the first thing about running a business, let alone society. You think giving handouts to everybody by taking money away from those who earned through their hard work solves anything."

Kitster lookes up from the cuffs and stared at the assembled group that stood around Kitster. A few hired crooks, a couple militiamen, a gaggle of decent-sized and petty businessmen, and the technicians from the mine. He had to laugh. "Do any of you people really think this guy sweat really worked half as hard as any of the poor saps who worked on his farms?"

Darklighter twitched angrily but swallowed the jab, and the small crowd exchanged looks. It was a local merchant who replied: "Well, you took away his business though, without asking. Who's to say you aren't going to do the same to the rest of us?"

Kitster shrugged. "I don't know, man. If we wanted to take away your business, shouldn't we have done it at the same time we took away Darklighter's?"

"Well, I--"

"Don't listen to him." Darklighter interjected. "He's just trying to confound you."

"If I had the skills to be able to, don't you think I woulda done it way sooner and talked all them friends of you into switchin' sides?" Kitster said, then bitterly added, looking straight at all the techs from the Mos Pelgo mines assembled there: "If it was something I could do, we souldn't find ourselves in this situation...and all those people wouldn't be dead."

"We didn't want to kill anybody." one of the technicians shifted on his feet.

"Sure." said Kitster. "You just stood there and watched those bounty hunter scum kill a hundred people because it was your day off from carin'."

Looks of shock passed on the other assembled owners' faces. A graying shopkeeper eyed the lead tech grimly: "That true, Scott?"

"Yes--but what other choice was there? They'd sided with the savages!" Scott replied. "And besides, what could we have done? Those people Huff called, those mercenaries, they were monsters." Scott added, shuddering. "We couldn't have stopped them anyway." he added, before shrugging towards his colleague with a broken nose. "And besides, they attacked first, they punched Travis."

"Drop it, Scott." said injured technician said. "I just defended myself. But things just got too damn messy when those mercenaries intervened."

"They went overboard." Huff said. "But they got the job done, didn't they?"

Scott pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yes."

"And what, did you perhaps like the way those rubes treated you after Skywalker's revolution? Like you were no better than them?"

"...No."

"Then it all worked out in the end, didn't it?" Huff said, and Kitster coughed.

"The end's not here yet." Kitster said. "You made me a witness and didn't kill me. When my friends come...they're gonna have a lot of evidence on you."

"They won't come." Darklighter stated. "We still have our aces in the hole. And you, freedman, you won't be able to do anything about that."

"Big talk for someone with a slave name who's only been freeborn for two generations." Kitster growled. "You're spitting on your grandparent's graves."

"The past is dead dust. I made something of myself just as my father did. I see no reason why those who rise up in the world be forced back down to the level of everybody else." Darklighter spat, then turned to his allies. "Boys, let's go. I've had enough of this."

"Wait, Huff." another, younger businessman told Darklighter. "The freedman has a point. A hundred people from this town got murdered. How are we gonna deal with that?" he asked, and Darklighter shrugged.

"We'll blame it on the Tuskens. The local tribe didn't want to integrate in Mos Pelgo besides working at the mine and trading, we'll have an easy time convincing the people."

 

-line break-

 

Huff Darklighter and his local allies did not have an easy time convincing the people.

"It sounds like a load of banthashit if you ask me." young Cobb Vanth said over a drink in the local cantina, speaking to the bartender Taanti. "I've been to the big city for some construction projects, there's a lot of Tuskens there now. They work with us. They wouldn't do something like that."

Taanti, an older Weequay male who'd been freed from Jabba's employ, shrugged. "I don't know. I've seen them be pretty nasty in my day. But sure, it's a weird story to take in."

"Yeah. We're supposed to be comrades, or something like that, no?"

"I don't know about that. I'm happy if there's peace, but I don't know if Tuskens can ever consider such an idea." an older patron muttered, swinging a flask. "They're wild, boy. They still think like they own this rock. I don't know if they'll ever br down for sharin'."

"Alright Bento, but Darklighter's been pushin' the yarn quite a bit." a middle-aged woman said from the other end of the bar. "I can buy 'em flippin' out and killing the mineworkers. Even understanding those raiders is a struggle, so who knows? A wrong word too many, and you got yourself a bloodbath. But the bombing in Espa? Can you picture Tuskens rigging a cargo ship to explode?"

Bento seemed to consider it. "Come to think of it, Wilma, I truly can't. Them fuckers wanna bash yout brains in with those big sticks they have." Bento took off his cap and rapped his knuckles on a smooth, sleek surface that sat in place of a patch of skin on his scalp. "See this, boy?" he grinned at Vanth. "Needed a metal plate, but I survived them fuckers. Showed 'em what for, because Bento's the big man, yessir."

"Well, dank farrik." breathed Cobb before swallowing his spotchka and pulling a face. "Wait a minute."

"Yeah?"

"You remember Darklighter's sister? Kadia or Karla or something?"

"Sure do." chuckled Wilma. "Pretty face like that stays in your head."

"None of you think it's a weird coincidence that on the same day of the bombing, she leaves the hospital she runs here to go to Espa...and the brother she always said she doesn't like comes here saying it's all the Tuskens' fault?"

"Come to think of it, I would." the surprise arrival's voice didn't come from the cantina door as it usually did in those situation, but from the door to the back of the bar--and Karla Darklighter was standing right in the middle of it.

"Uh, hi." Cobb flushed as Karla stepped into the main room of the cantina along with what looked like a good chunk of Tatooine's government--namely, A'Sharad Hett, Beru Whitesun, and Korian Maas.

"How did you even get in here?" Tanti whispered, dumbstruck.

"My job before landing here was breaking locks. A computer and a door are not that far off." Korian shrugged as he sauntered into a stool. "Don't worry, I fixed it right back as soon as we were in." he added, with a smile and a wave of his hand.

"We didn't even hear you." Bento stated, warily, as A'Sharad seated himself between him and Cobb. A'Sharad's one good lens merely turned toward him.

"Did you hear us the first time, either, big man?" he asked, his voice so plain and neutral it could break glass, and Bento cleared his throat.

"No, Commissar. We didn't."

"You must be good if you survived. My praise to you." A'Sharad replied as Tanti poured them drinks. "No thanks. There is going to be a lot of carnage before the Suns are down, and it's best to see through it fully mindful."

"There's gonna be a lot of carnage, yeah." Korian said, downing his spotchka in one gulp. "Best to have something strong in your veins to see it through."

"There's not gonna be any carnage if we can help it." Karla said, forcefully. "We aren't going to add any more dead to the graves my brother's been filling."

"So I wasn't off." Cobb muttered. "Huff Darklighter is really behind this?"

"He is." said Karla, and briefly shook with repressed tears. She rubbed her face. "I don't want him to die. I don't want anybody else to die."

"It's what we're all trying to prevent." Beru hugged her. "With a little hope...there'll be minimum fighting."

"We'll try not to put you people's lives at risk." A'Sharad told the settlers. "Try to stay indoors."

"Are you kidding?" Cobb slammed his head on the table. "You really think we'd stand being conned by Darklighter without giving him a piece of our minds?"

"We don't take kindly to being treated as dumb rubes." Wilma added. "And we all have guns."

"Then we gladly accept your help." Korian leaned in. "Other help is coming in, too."

"Who from?" asked Bento, and A'Sharad took a sip of his drink.

 

-line break-

 

The view from the platform atop the power plant's main control tower was not a good one.

"Dank farrik." Huff Darklighter swore as he looked from his binoculars. "Where did the Tuskens come from?"

"It's like they just crawled out of the sand." said one of the technicians. "I think we should go, Darklighter. We should skip town--take the money and run."

"The deposits from the mine won't cut it." Darklighter replied. "We can't give up when we've only begun! We either take back the planet or it's all useless!"

"Look, I just care that I get paid more, and that I stay alive to get paid more." the tech protested, distancing himself from the group that had assembled on top of the power plant. He did not notice Travis reaching into his safety vest behind him. "I don't have the stomach to see anymore bloodshed or risk my life any further."

"Shame." Travis's voice was perfectly neutral, as that of a clerk who had dropped his pen. And like a pen, he dropped his colleague, and the unsuspecting tech fell to the floor of the roof with a blaster hole to the back of his head.

The assembled conspirators gasped, cursed, cried out in shock; only Huff Darklighter tried to mantain an impassible face as Travis slicked back his hair and took off his work tunic and vest to reveal a practical combat suit.

"Right." Travis said, his accent transitioning from Tatooinian to Coruscanti over the course of a single syllable. "I hope there's no more ditherers. They make things awfully difficult." 

"Travis? What the Hell?" another technician commented, in shock. "What's fucking wrong with you?"

"Travis does not exist. He was a useful cover to get an incident started." 'Travis' said, cocking the hammer of his blaster at the woman. "Now, Darklighter...are your pets going to behave or will we need to dispose of more bodies than we'd agreed upon by the end of it?"

"They'll behave." Darklighter said, and one of his businessman friends took hold of him by the arm.

"What the Hell are you talking about, Huff? Who's this guy? Why's he ordering you around?"

"Because my boss pays for your little distraction." Travis commented, before chuckling at the businessman's face. "What, did you honestly think that backwater two-bit crooks could do this on your own, or afford someone like Durge? Please."

"Hey, shithead, before Skywalker came fucking around I owned half of Mos Espa's trade district--"

"Kudos to you. You owned half of a three-block radius in one of the most insignificant planets in one of the most insignificant corners of the Galaxy. Well wake up, sunshine. You could only do your business because you paid a cut to Jabba, and Jabba could only do his because he paid a cut to my boss." Travis's smile showed now all of his teeth, and they were uncannily white. "You fail or you win, you die or you live, it's useful to us all the same."

The businessmen blanched. "Who...who are you?"

Darklighter could only look away, dejected. "Haven't you got it by now?"

 

 

-line break-

 

"I am a Jedi. I am the Republic."

That's what Barriss was telling herself as she neared the mountain where the Lehon archeological was located. She was supposed to be a medic, and a protector. And yet first she had been roped by her friend into pretendimg she'd gone rogue to act like a spy inside the enemy's home, and now she was aiding the enemy itself, taking orders by its leader to protect...

...to protect their children.

Barriss tried to shake her head free of those conflicting thoughts. Jedi were supposed to protect everyone, children especially. It didn't matter whose children they were.

Especially if Aurra Sing was menacing them.

Slowly, she pushed the speeder up. She could sense a fierce battle on the rock formation protruding from the summit of the small mountain. She couldn't sense Sing herself, but in fhe pit of her stomach she could feel part of the same sickness she'd felt at the mine.

It was her.

She stopped the speeder on a protruding rock ledge and walked up the sandy slope, holding her unlit lighsaber close to her chest and hoping this approach would let her have the element of surprise. The Suns had started to lower, but they were beating down on her head like twin hammers. How could people live on a planet like this?

She chided herself and drew on the Force to steel her nerves. She needed to stay calm. Aurra Sing was surely up there.

But there were other details out of place. For example, there were far too many tracks in the sand. Who else was here with her?

Slowly, she walked up the archeological site. Despite the blazing sun, she could feel a biting cold settle in her bones. No sound was heard through the archeological complex except for the wind blowing the sand around. In front of her, a hundred-feet hole opened up, a wide, gaping mouth uncovering small sections of walls, descending the slope of the hole into a small plateau like steps. She paused, looking around. She couldn't see anything or anybody. Only the barest of glints among the rocks--there!

She threw herself down over the closest wall before the blaster bolt could hit her, and it only singed her poncho. She ducked down as another bolt burst shards of rock from the priceles archeological discoveries around them. Barriss swore, tried to dash behind more rocks, and bonked her head into grey plate.

"Dank farrik!" she exclaimed and threw herself back at the same time as the person facing her, throwing out her lightsaber for protection--and clashing with a white-black blade.

"You're a Jedi?" the young boy in Mandalorian armor in front of her said, briefly pulling back his strange lightsaber. He was unhelmeted, black bangs falling over his bruised face, his red and gray armor scabbed and scarred in many places with what looked like lightsaber marks. He was the spitting image of every clone trooper Barriss had ever seen.

"Yes." Barriss said, almost reflexively. "Luke Skywalker sent me. I'm Barriss. Barriss Offee, here to rescue you."

The boy's face hardened. "You were on Geonosis." his tone was an accusation, a dagger aimed straight at Barriss's heart. The girl blinked, before remembering the image of Master Windu cutting off the head of another Mandalorian in the heat of battle--

"I was." she admitted. "But now I'm here. I defected. Look, I swear you can trust me, I--"

"You're a bad liar." Boba said. "That's why Luke sent you, probably."

"--What?"

"Can you fight, Barriss Offee?"

"I--yes." Barriss replied. The boy's black eyes felt like they were burning holes into her skull.

"Good. Then you'll help me. Aurra Sing has taken my friend."

Barriss swallowed. Was she too late? 

 

-line break- 

 

"I think its's too late."

"It's not. Shots aren't flying yet."

"They flew in the Desert."

The posse reached the gates of the Mos Pelgo power plants, a hundred citizens backing it. Shopkeepers, workers, students, both settler and Tuskens, followed anxiously as the Commissars led them to a stop by the front of the building.

"Well, I still hope we can solve this with little violence, Commissar Lars." Dormer, the Arcona town hall representative told Beru, trying to hide their nervousness. "I don't wanna tear apart the community, or let anybody else get hurt."

"The community was already torn apart when people like Darklighter decided that profit was more important." Beru said. "But sure, we'll try it the peaceful route, for now." she added, and at that there was swift grumbling among the Tuskens.

"There needs to be justice for the mining station massacre."

 A'Sharad translated.

"Wasn't Luke dealing with that?"

"Not just the perpetrators, but the orchestrators also."

"We'll have a trial. We can have a trial, right?" Karla asked, and her gaze turned pleading at the two Commissars.

"If your brother surrenders, yes." Beru said, and looked at A'Sharad. "But of course, if he comes out shooting at us...we'll shoot back."

A'Sharad translated, and the grumbling quieted down. A Tusken woman in the front, carring a large slugthrower, made a grunt, and A'Sharad nodded. "That's satisfactory."

Karla swallowed. "So you're not going to make much effort to take him in alive."

"It's called shootin' in self-defense, Doc." Bento crowed from the posse, and Dormer stepped forward with a megaphone.

"Let me try first." they cleared their throat, and called out: "Huff Darklighter! We come in peace, for the tranquility and unity of our community. We know you are in there, you and your business friends. We don't want to resort to violence. We just want you all to turn yourselves in until and remain peaceful proper evidence can be collected and a trial can be held."

"What's there to be peaceful and proper about?" Huff called, peeking out from the barriers on the roof of the plant. "We used to be a peaceful and proper people, until Skywalker turned up and threw us into war, first against the Republic, and now against each other!"

"There wasn't nothin' proper about us before!" Cobb Vanth shouted back. "We used to have slavery! You used to own slaves yourself, Darklighter!"

"And now you think Skywalker's somehow elevated you? Look at you! You stand side by side with savages!" another businessman called, with the Tuskens responding in angry roars and jeers.

"This is degenerarting far too quickly." Karla commented, and Dormer nodded.

"Agreed. Darklighter, we have made peace with the Tuskens. We spent far too much blood in useless wars against them if you want to reignite another one, or ignite civil war among us, we will not take it lightly."

"Yeah, you're makin' trouble, an' we don't want no trouble!" Wilma called.

"Don't you understand? Skywalker's the one putting us in trouble! We could have the whole Galaxy on our doorstep, bringing jobs and riches--but if Skywalker keeps playing rabble-rouser, they're gonna bring guns!"

"Cut the bullshit, old man!" Cobb shouted. "The Galaxy ain't ever cared about us!"

"No, but it does now." a colder voice spoke out, and the hard profile of Travis came to stand in front of Darklighter. "And you have everything to lose from playing this game."

"Travis?" Tanti realized, baffled. "What are you doing up there, man? You're just a miner!"

"No. I am an emissary of an order greater than you people and your petty protests." Travis said, and laid his rifle over the edge of the roof, aiming it straight at Karla. "And we are past the point of talking."

"What are you doing? That's my sister!" Darklighter cried, outraged.

"No. She is the head of the local hospital, which has a miniaturized torpedo charge sitting there, ready to blow up any minute now and blow up everything in a two-mile radius." Travis enunciated, as cold, icy terror started to spread among the populace. "So, to you people down below, I suggest you disperse your little mob and try to evacuate. This town is in civilized hands now."

"You bastard." A'Sharad spat. "Haven't you already killed enough innocents?"

"Not innocents." Travis corrected him. "Savages."

A'Sharad snarled and lunged froward, barely restrained by Korian and Karla.

"Beru." Karla turned to her old friend, her face pale. "If that's true--"

"Do you want me to blow the charges early so you can see I'm telling the truth?" Travis asked. "I can do that, if you want."

"I'll come with you." Korian told Karla. "If this Travis guy wants us to go there, bomb or not, it means there's a trap. And with traps, the best solution is to spring them."

"I hate it when you're right." A'Sharad said, an apparent calm returning to him. "I'll come with you--of there's a bomb, you need somebody capable of doing something about it, and prevent everyone around here from being atomized."

"You trying to get blown up twice in two days, Ash?"

"Who knows, maybe I just want to live up to this stupid nickname you gave me, Maas."

"Oh for Force's sake, just shut up and go." Beru groaned, shoving them away. A'Sharad barked orders at a few Tuskens, and three of them left with him, Korian and Beru.

"Well well well." Travis smirked then, looking down at Beru as he trained his rifle on her "The only Jedi you had left just ditched you. I suppose this is where you surrender. It's what would be wise of you."

Beru did not reply at first. She was silent, and looked first at the Tusken chieftain, then at Cobb, then at Dormer, and at all the rest of the populace. She was met with grim, determined faces, and silence. Then she nodded, herself, and took out her blaster.

"We decide what is wise of us." said the Tusken chieftain in rough Basic, and Travis's face turned into a glare.

"Fools." he spat. "Fools and savages." he said, and wasted no time in shooting at Beru.

Beru didn't even flinch. She didn't have to. Red plasma met red plasma, and the blaster bolt was deviated harmlessly to the ground...by a red lightsaber. Faala landed gracefully in front of the posse, her short, red lightsaber in one hand and the blaster in the other, and bared her teeth in a grin at Travis.

"Hi." she said, and a cold, gnawing feeling started spreading in Travis's gut.

"Sure we're fools and savages." Beru said as the battle began. "We choose to live in the Desert, after all."

 

-Line break-

 

From his position on the floor in the file room, Kitster looked ar his lone guard, the technician Scott, and smiled as the sounds of battle started pouring throughthe windows. "Can you smell the blaster fire?" he asked him. "Our comrades are here."

"Shut up. There is no 'our'." Scott had a blaster. He had it trained on Kitster. But he'd never used a blaster in his entire life, and it showed. He was making a point of pointing it as hard as possible.

"Do you think you're going to luck out, in this life?" Kitster asked. "Do you think you're gonna find a good boss, someone who doesn't put you against your fellow workers? Or you think you're gonna be paid enough to throw everything away and hole up somewhere safe?"

"Of course not. I worked hard to get this job, studied hard. I deserve it."

"And what, have we taken it away from you?"

"Shut up. I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Is it really so easy?"

Scott glared at him. "What is?"

"To shut up. To shut your eyes, your mouth, pretending you don't see the horror of what goes on, of who orders you around and dictates everything you do, when you don't have a bomb in your chest." Kitster said. "Because believe me, for me it was hard even with the bomb in my chest."

"Shut up. I'm not a slave."

"And that's the point. You weren't enslaved like me. You had a good job, a good salary...having all that stuff, is it really so easy not to care about anything else? Because you still have them, and now you and your colleagues suddenly cared about who was calling the shots, about who was in charge, about the work you did, about who you did it with, and what they were paid for and what say had they in the work. What changed, apart from having people like us in charge?"

Scott held his gaze, but didn't speak. He couldn't find the words in himself. And then, after a little while, he could hold Kitster's gaze no more.

Kitster tried again. "Whatever you think to gain...you really think you can stomach so many people dying or go back to slavery for the few people that will benefit from that?"

Scott kept his back turned from him. "Goddammit," he whispered, and then, louder: "Goddammit!" he punched the wall, cursed from the pain it caused him, and then turned to Kitster with stinging tears in his eyes: "You think I like how this has turned out?"

"Doesn't look like you do, no." Kitster replied. "But what are you gonna do about that?"

Scott deflated. For a moment he looked he wanted to say something, but the words died on his lips. Then he took out a knife, and cut Kitster's ropes.

"Thanks." Kitster said, simply, looking at Scott, but Scott wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Let's talk about it afterwards." he said, and gave Kitster his weapon. "This will be ugly."

"Yeah, I bet the others are having a blast." Kitster snarked, taking the weapon.

 

-line break-

 

 

In fact, the others were having a blast.

In the literal sense: they were being blasted at.

"My hospital," Karla muttered, hiding behind the antechamber wall as the bounty hunters hiding behind the reception desk tore up the lobby with blasterfire. "My hospital."

"We'll fix it back up again," Korian, crouching next to her, flashed her a weak smile before peeking out of cover to land a couple shots, one of which tagged one of the hunters in the shoulder, "Promise."

"You sure you don't want a gun, Dr. Darklighter?" A'Sharad said, putting rounds back into his pistol-sized slugthrower. "We could use the help."

"I'm not going to kill anybody." Karla said. "I took this job to avoid violence."

"Well, too bad." A'Sharad pushed the barrel of the slughthrower right over the edge of the broken antechamber window above him, and aimed. A small explosion later, one of the three bounty hunters behind the reception desk slumped over, dead.

"Do you really have to kill them?" Karla said. "I thought Jedi tried to avoid that. What with the Force making you wizarda and all."

"Yes, well, it's not that easy right now to pull magic tricks. Stopping a ship in free-fall, containing an explosion, and using healing trances on one's self isn't exactly a relaxing vacation for my midi-chlorians."

"Your what?"

"Forget it."

"Really, Ash?" Korian chimed in. "You only have to yank their blasters away."

"This is efficient." A'Sharad pulled the trigger again, and another hunter lost a hand, screaming like a wounded animal. Korian swallowed.

"Ash, you're being way too intense. They aren't the ones who..."

"How can you tell?"

"You bastards! You think you can make fools of Boussh's and his crew?" a couple thermal detonators bounced in the trio's direction from the lobby. "Think again! We are the scourge of Ord Fortuna! The bane of Sarzanna! The.."

A'Sharad Force-pushed the detonators back where they'd come from, and the reception desk blew up with all the bounty hunters in it. A'Sharad let out a ragged breath, and Korian grimaced at the carnage.

"There, you see why I didn't use the Force sooner. Now I'll ask again: how can you tell?"

"You heard the leader before you blew them up. They weren't the most serious of dudes. So my money is on the guy Beru and the others are facing. Or the one who's facing Luke."

"Yeah, Luke. Come to think of it, that's someone who's help we could all be using." A'Sharad said. "Instead they're out in the middle of the Desert showing off--"

"Showing off? They're doing their part. They're holding off a strong enemy--"

"--and probably getting themselves killed!" A'Sharad rebutted, his voice shaking slightly on the last syllable. "Just imagine this situation right now, if Luke were to be in my place. It would already be over. They'd have won the day, I'm..."

"Whoah, is this something about not measuring up?" Korian stopped A'Sharad, grabbing him by the arm. "This is not the time for this, Ash. I brought you here because you're capable, even in this state."

"I'm capable, yes." A'Sharad said. "But I'm not Luke."

"Envy won't help anybody."

"Luke wouldn't be affected. Luke wouldn"t have been emotional like earlier, they'd have sat through it like a proper Jedi and Luke yanked that sleemo down from the power plant's roof and--"

"Luke ain't here." Korian snapped. "And believe me, you haven't seen Luke snapping. I have."

"Zygerria?"

"Zygerria. And other stuff. Even at the beginning."

"Fuck." A'Sharad slumped against the wall. "That's another mess we have to sort out...if we survive."

"We'll do more than survive." Korian squeezed A'Sharad's elbow in comfort. "We'll win."

A'Sharad turned to Korian, sighing: "I gave Luke a necklace when you departed to look for Maul."

"I think we all saw you do that." Korian let go of his elbow and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "And I don't mind. We're not exclusive."

A'Sharad went stiff as a board. "I'm not going there, you filthy moron."

"I thought you only gave such gifts to people who are important to you."

"...Yes. That's why..." A'Sharad suppressed a groan. "You're going to think I'm an idiot."

"Wouldn't be much of a difference from before." Korian remarked, sticking his tongue out for good measure, and A'Sharad flipped him off.

"Fuck you, Maas."

"Once this mess is over, I'll gladly take you up on that proposition." Korian winked, and A'Sharad choked on air. If the insurgents weren't going to kill him, he was pretty sure Korian Maas would, just by existing.

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response." he said, clearing his throat in an effort to straighten himself out, and turned to Karla. "Dr. Darklighter, most of the staff is with the posse at the power plant, right?"

Karla gingerly lifted herself off the floor. "Yes. There's just a couple nurses on the upper floor."

"That being?"

"The nursery."

"Shit." A'Sharad said. "If there's a bomb it's probably out there. I'll go up, you and Maas clear this floor. We'll save time and..." he couldn't manage to finish his sentence, his words broken up by a series of ragged coughs. Karla held him, taking out a bacta pill.

"Take this. You still haven't recovered in full from the bombing. The damage to your lungs..."

"Save it for later." A'Sharad pushed her away. "It's more helpful if you just take a gun."

"I'm not here to kill anybody." Karla replied. "Dank farrik, here you are, keeling over half-dead, you want me to make more people like that instead of helping you?"

"Better help everybody first."

"I'm not shooting anyone, you stupid oaf. Why do you think I'm a doctor? Don't you think maybe I've had enough of all the violence I grew up in on this dustball?"

"Look." Korian interjected, and separated the two. "It's no problem."

"No?"

Korian handed Karla one of his blasters. "Set it to stun. I don't want to kill if it's unnecessary either."

Karla looked at the gun, and then at Korian. "Thank you." she said, taking it from his hand with a shaky breath. "Okay. Let's do this."

 

-line break-

 

Luke Skywalker was spitting blood. Whether it was from inhaling Force knew just how much smoke from the fires all around, or all the ribs that Durge had broken them, they really didn't know. Slowly, wordlessly, they tried to push themselves up once again. And once again, they fell down.

"You're still trying." Durge commented, sitting down across from them. "It's impressive."

"It's all...part of the plan." Luke wheezed, and a short, unnatural cackle escaped Durge's cracked helm.

"The plan is getting beaten to death?"

"The plan is...keeping you here...while my friends sort every...thing out." Luke clenched fheir firsts in the sand, straining every fiber of their aching muscles to at least pull themselves into an a kneeling position. "I know they can manage...without me. And I won't le...t them down."

"You can barely breathe." Durge stated. "It has been fun, Skywalker. But I conquered more planets in the smallest fraction of my existence than you will ever visit in your whole life. I have crushed armies, Jedi Masters, Sith Lords, pirate kings, warlords, Mandalorian crusaders, brought civilizations to heel, even my own kindred. So there's nothing anymore you can pull that I haven't seen, or beaten before, and thus no way for you to best me. Give up and I'll give you a merciful, honorable death."

"N..no."

Durge bristled. "No? Come on Skywalker. Don't drag this out."

"I've...been...worse..." Luke grinned through the pain, reaching into their shirt--and pressed into their chest to reset their broken ribs. They screamed, briefly, before choking down on the pain.

"Stop." Durge barked. "You're gonna make this pitiful."

"You're...pitiful." Luke breathed, and felt something inside Durge's force presence shift. "I pity you, Durge. Two thousand years of life...and so what? What have you got to show for it? Just destruction?" Luke said, forcing it through the pain of their ribs and bruises, as their voice became more and more even. "Have you in all this time found nothing that brings you joy but the pain of others? Have you found nothing to cherish, to spend quiet days just working away at, filling you with understated warmth? Something to give meaning to this endless passage of time, to at least make it worthwhile?" straining, Luke got up. They were at eye level with Durge this way. "Because I have. And every time I think about it...it's stronger than any of your blows could ever hope to be."

Durge sat in quiet stillness, before getting up himself and dwarfing Luke. "If I had a credit for every time I've heard this speech, Skywalker, I'd have your weight in gold." she stated, drawing a blade from his back that was almost as long as Luke was tall. "But I suppose there's worse last words to choose."

He swung his massive sword, but the strike did not make contact. As the blade fell down on Luke, a breeze hit the Gen'Dai. A breeze that cut him in two, bisecting him from the middle of his hand, traveling up his arm, and then separating his chest from his waist diagonally. Before the pain hit him, Durge had time to realize what had happened: Luke Skywalker had side-stepped his attack so fast that he couldn't see them move, and then calmly stepped into his reach to cut him in two, using the wear and tear on his armor from all the previous blows to manage to break it.

Durge roared--both in pain and in rage, his two halves sprouting fibers and muscle cords to reconstitute itself, but a wave of Skywalker's hands pushed them apart, sending his lower half straight into the burning pit that was once the mine. Durge fell on the ground as he felt part of his body burn and disintegrate beyond regeneration, cell by cell, too far for him to reach, and screamed.

"You fucking bastard." he spat, generating a lower half from the mass he was left with. "That's why you took so many blows and let me destroy so much stuff earlier, didn't you? It was all a trap."

"Yeah," Luke Skywalker said, saber in hand and a smile on their face, even if Furge could see by their shaky voice that the attack had taken a lot out of them. "I call this 'salami tactics'."

Durge lifted his sword, and cursed internally. Now, with half of him gone, it was much heavier than it had ever been. And from the look on Skywalker's face...they knew it.

"You can give it up just now, Durge. I've destroyed half your body and most of your weaponry. I am prepared to destroy you, too, but I'd rather not add any more pain to the end of your life." Skywalker said. "This world...it's mostly death and sand. It has seen as much pain as you have. But there's still beauty in it, and beauty to be made out of it. And you have so many centuries of experience...you could help us. Help the pain mature into something good for both."

"Sooner or later, everything dies, Skywalker. Happiness has no meaning if it is temporary. But of you can control death...then you are master." Durge swung again, Luke ducking under the blade and twirling under Durge's arm to go for another slash. Durge threw out his leg, aiming for Skywalker's center of mass as they spun--but Skywalker simply let themselves slide flat on the ground, and cut Durge's leg from under him. Durge tried to axe-elbow them over the head as they got back up into his guard, but Skywalker used his armor's resistance to their lightsaber to bat his arm away, and plunge his own into Durge's chest--and make it explode from the inside with the Force.

Now, Gen-Dai have no lungs as they breathe through their skin, just air tubes for their vocal chords, pooling air in the small of their throat for them to speak. But still Durge felt as if he couldn't breathe for a second, and an emotion he hadn't felt in eons started flooding his mind.

Fear.

He was afraid of Luke Skywalker.

He let himself fall back, Skywalker not pressing their advantage, likely out of a persistent hope to turn him as they'd just tried to do--and thus giving said advantage to Durge. The mercenary reformed his leg stump into a tentacle and used it to grab Skywalker's leg and swoop the Jedi into the air. Blind panic crossed the Human's face as they slashed off the tenctacle with their lightsaber, but it was too late--they were already into the air, and right in the trajectory of Durge's fist.

Luke barely managed to brace themself before Durge sent them flying into a heap of rubble.

"Kriff," they cursed in pain, and reached up, but Durge was already on them--plummeting over them with his sword from a running jump. Luke pulled their lightsaber in a reverse grip, imbuing the strike with the Force, and the blow was enough to shatter Durge's sword, shard flying everywhere and the stump barely missing Luke's pelvis as it buried itself in the rubble. Luke pushed themself up on one hand and sent a double Force-kick straight to Durge's head, sending him stumbling back, and then called the rubble they were standing on on him, like a rain of concrete and steel.

"Fool!" Durge roared, pushing through the barrage even as his armor broke into pieces until it was gone. "You think other people haven't tried this kind of things? I have survived death by sarlaccs, nukes, torpedoes, superweapons, Jedi, Sith--you're just another one of them!" his arm shot out, morphing into tentacles which grabbed around Skywalker's arms until they forced the lightsaber out of their hands and their body into Durge's grasp. Skywalker tried to call more projectiles to their aid, but Durge turned and slammed them into the ground, making them cry out in pain. "Your friends aren't enough to stop what's coming to them--and you won't be there to save them. If you think you can keep me here until they win, then I'll just keep you here until they lose before killing you."

"That scares you, doesn't it? The possibility they might win against your employer and their patsies." Luke grinned through teeth gritted in pain. "The possibility that you might be wrong and I might be right."

"Get the fuck out of my head, you miserable little embryo--"

"No, you get the fuck off my planet."

Durge had no time to strike Skywalker into silence. When he heard the roar, the whole ground seemed to shake. He turned trhough the smoke which seemed to obscure everything--and a giant, gaping maw engulfed him. Durge cursed, trashed, screamed as jaws chewed on him and teeth rended him. But he wouldn't die like this. Not in the mouth of a beast. He'd gotten out of bigger beasts, this was only a new one.

He punched up into the beast's maw with all his might, forcing it to open his mouth, and struggled out, the beast snapping its jaws on him again and rending its in two with its teeth. Durge screamed and let himself be ripped apart, his upper half plummeting to the ground below as it reformed, even more diminished than before, his lower half being gulped down by his animal assailant. Only when he was back on the ground could he finally have a good look at it: massive wings and a serpent like body, with a spiny head and a long tail--it was as big as a freighter.

"Flying Krayt dragon. They're supposed to be impossible to find." he breathed, suppressing a curse. Skywalker was nowhere to be seen, and he was alone with the beast now, with precious little mass left to spare--he was little more than Human-sized now, and there was no organic matter around to consume to reconstitute himself. But he still had a card to play--he sent a signal to the part of him that the dragon was chomping on and digesting, sending his cells and fibers haywire. The flying Krayt dragon started choking on his food, hatumbling mid-flight and careening away from the mining outpost. "Alright, the Force gives you a lot of tricks, Skywalker--now come out so we can finish this."

"Gladly." Skwyalker burst out from behind an overturned vaporator, shooting at Durge with a blaster. Durge ran into them, taking care to avoid getting hit on the head, pursuing Skywalker into the wreckage of the site...until Skywalker stumbled, and Durge pounced on them. The two rolled around in the sand fighting for the blaster, until Durge ended up on top of Skywalker, blaster pressed into their forehead, and Skwyalker's lightsaber aimed straight at his.

"End of the road, Jedi--a lightsaber isn't as fast as a point-blank blaster bolt."

"Sure, but you won't stop me from activating my lightsaber as you shoot me. My blade will go right through your brain, destroying your regenerating nucleus." Skywalker grinned. "Yeah, I did my homework in your species."

"My congratulations to you. But you haven't done your homework on blastwe ballistics. If I shoot you point-blank in the head, the plasma mass of the blaster bolt will be enough to make your body recoil--and your blade will miss my forehead. And trust me--I have bern in this exact situation enough times to know for sure."

"Well then." Skywalker's smile turned eerily calm. "Why haven't you shot me yet?"

"Fuck off, you little shit." as Durge pulled the trigger, it occurred to him that the blaster was lighter than he was used to. And yeah, he was lighter too, so that threw his whole perception of weight out of the window...but when the blaster clicked empty instead of pulverizing Skywalker's brains, he realized that the blaster really was lighter.

Because there were no shots left.

"Fuck." Durge said, and let his hand fall back. "Fuck. I can't believe I fell for it."

Skywalker's smile faded. "I'm sorry."

"Just get it over with."

"You still have the option to..."

"No. I've lived too long to even want to try to care anymore." Durge threw the blaster away. "At least, like this I can die like a warrior. Just make it painless."

"Alright."

"Thank you."

It was a simple question of turning the lightsaber off and on again.

Durge's dead body fell back, eyes empty, a smoking hole in his forehead, and it was as if his cells did't kmow how to function anymore: instead of regenerating, they did the opposite. They rapidly started degenerating, eating themselves alive, the body treating itself like a tumor, finaly exploding in a cloud of dust over Luke. Slowly, coughing, even the Krayt dragon spat out what little remained of the Gen'Dai's other half, and started flapping its wings. Luke laid on the sand, watching everything happen, watching the wind spun from the dragon's wings blow the smoke away as the fires died down. They clutched the Krayt Dragon pearl A'Sharad had given them before departing for Dathomir, gazing at the animal with wide eyes. They'd never seen a winged Krayt dragon before. They were supposed to be a legend.

Luke asked themselves if Durge had ever seen him one before, in all his years of life, and then they thought what that number of years actually was.

Two thousand years. They would make any man hollow, wouldn't they?

Luke was so tired. But they couldn't let themselves become hollow.

Notes:

So, here is it. I'll see you with a next chapter in two weeks, comrades and siblings...in the meantime, if you wanna chat in the comments, yours truly is always at your disposition. Cheers! ;)

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

The two figures stood face to face, amid the fire and the smoke. Travis was at once scared and relieved in learning Durge had failed: in the state the rebel was in, he could take out Luke Skywalker himself.

He was both right and wrong at the same time.
The fire went out by itlsef, air slamming against the flames with the Force of a tornado, and Travis, for the first time in his life, was a little less sure of his own predictions.

Chapter 13: Destabilization attempts (Part Four)

Summary:

The destabilization attempts on Tattooine's revolution are brought to the climax in this explosive arc finale. There's someone casting their shadow over Tattooine. Someone who hasn't been taking kindly about their meddling...and that someone might just come out in the opening.

Notes:

Experimenting with a biweekly schedule. Should build a better backlog with more curated chapters. In the meantime, enjoy this one!

Chapter Thirteen: Destabilization attempts (Part Four)

 

Lehon archeological site

 

"I can feel your fear, little boy."

From his sitting position in the small shadows of the small temple they were hidden in, Hoar turned to his captor, facing the glinting black eyes and teeth of Aurra Sing.

"I can feel your fear, your anger, your hatred towards me." Sing continued. "You want to kill me exactly as much as he did when he faced me."

Hoar tried to keep silent. He wouldn't give her any satisfaction. He wouldn't...

"And why shouldn't you? I did slaughter more of you animals at the mining station."

"You're the only animal here." Hoar snapped. "You get off on this, don't you?"

"And you wouldn't?" Sing chuckled, her pale face contrasting hard, even in the darkness, against the murals of the temple. "I've heard enough stories about you sand mummies that make even some of my most bloodthirsty friends look like lambs." 

Hoar kept his mouth shut this time. The witch was goading him. She wanted him to lash out at her taunts, confident he couldn't do anything due to the Force-suppressing cuffs she'd slapped on him.

And he couldn't. He really couldn't. The Force was a dull presence in him. Every time he tried to call on it, to touch it, it was like grasping air: useless, as if it didn't even exist anymore.

"You don't scare me. I've seen demons, tainted by the dark...and you are pathetic." he said instead, trying to recall the lessons Luke and A'Sharad had given him and Faala. It seemed to work, Sing's grin vanishing and her face clouding and glowering at him. "You get off on this, yes. You get off on making people suffer, on having control and power over them, but why's that?" he continued, trying to pull his best impression of Luke Skywalker. "I think it's because deep down you don't have any real power yourself."

"You stupid little freak." Sing snarled, and struck him in the face with her hand. Hoar reeled and fel back, sweing stars. He'd felt one of his lenses crack. "You think two can play at this game, huh? Well, you've still got much to learn. You aren't even a real Jedi yet."

"That's all you got? Cheap insults and slaps?" Hoar replied. "You're venomous, but you're just a little sand-snake. I survived the Krayt dragon. You killed my teacher's father, and you think that makes you scary. I survived a greater demon than whatever you could hope to be. I watched my whole tribe slaughtered, and..."

"And you're gonna watch it get slaughtered again." Sing spat. "My colleagues are going to turn all your families and friends to glass. And in the meantime, you'll serve me as bait for the Fett boy."

"Boba won't die by the hand of someone like you." Hoar replied. "The Force is with him."

Sing laughed. "He doesn't have a drop of it in him." she said, stepping in the small shard of light that the caved-in entrance of the temple afforded them, and then she looked away, her grin fading. "And even if he had, it wouldn't help him. It doesn't help anybody."

Hoar sat back, confused by the sudden turn of emotions in Sing. This didn't seem to be anger or hatred...it felt more like...sadness?

But before he could probe further, an unknown voice called out from their hiding spot.

"Aurra Sing! I've come to bargain!" the voice, a young woman's, shouted over to them, and Hoar saw Sing's eyes widen before she flattened herself against the wall of the temple, stepping away from the light, blaster in hand.

"Holy shit. It's Unduli's Padawan. How many more Jedi do ya got hidden under all this sand, kid?"

"I have literally no idea who that is." Hoar said, straining his neck to look out into the sunlight. And he could see a lithe green figure in dark robes, the sand shifting slightly about her...and the shift slowly moving towards them.

"Aurra Sing! Come out of there!"

"Make me, little Jedi."

"I think she already has." Hoar remarked, and Sing turned to him, confused. "Look down."

Aurra did, indeed, look down, just as Hoar shut his eyes--and saw a flashbang grenade popping out of the sand. Just as it went off

"Dank farrik!" Sing cursed, stumbling back, blinded and deafened, and Hoar took the oportunity to jump up and headbutt her in the stomach. Sing heaved, the air forced out of her lungs, and Hoar ran out as blasterfire started raging.

"There you are!" Boba called him out from behind a pile of excavation equipment, and Hoar ran towards him, jumping and rolling to bring his bound wrists from behind his beck to in front of himself--right as Boba swiped at him with the Darksaber, cutting open the Force-dampeners.

"Thanks." Hoar said, as the other Jedi ran towards them, covering herself from Sing's blaster fire with her own lightsaber, dazzlingly blue.

"I'm Barriss Offee." the young Miralian told him. "Luke sent me."

"Great." Hoar said. "Do you have a weapon for me too?"

"You can borrow this." Boba said, handing him the Darksaber. "I'll stick to my guns."

"Whoah. Am I king of your people now?"

"We have more pressing matters." Barriss remarked as all the equipment around them--shovels, basins, buckets--all of a sudden jumped in the air and flew at them. Barriss slashed at the improvised projectiles and Hoar did the same as they retreated, stepping upon layers and layers of uneven soil and ruins as they did--before the very sand they were walking on exploded in a blizzard.

"Sithspit!" Barriss cursed, and had only half time to see Aurra Sing's blue lightsaber glow through the sand in her eyes to parry the devastating blow she delivered at her. She stumbled back, parrying three more blows in quick succession before Sing whipped out her blaster and shot her in the arm and in the leg. Barriss cried out and fell down, Joar stepping in to deflect more bolts sent her way. Boba too pitched in, shooting at Sing and forcing her back: the woman retaliated by switching guard, pressing Hoar with her saber and firing at Boba. The young Mandalorian was hit twice in the chest, falling down, Beskar armor thankfully saving him, but he was seemingly out cold.

"Ha!" Sing gloated, and Force-pushed Hoar away, straight into a patch of rocks. The young Tusken cried out in pain, and let go of the Darksaber. He struggled to get up, but he could feel he'd dislocated his leg--this wasn't good. This wasn't--

A sudden rush of energy filled him, and he felt his bones pop back into place. He turned back, and saw Barriss with a hand outstretched towards him: the woman had healed him!

Breathing deeply, he reignited the Darksaber and faced Sing.

The hunter laughed at him. "Surrender, boy. You can't win."

"I'm standing in the ruins of my ancestors and I've let you profanate them long enough. I think I pretty much have to win." Hoar said, and dashed at her. He ran under her shots, getting into her guard and swinging his lightsaber, but Sing parried his evey blow. Then Hoar had an idea. He ducked under her slash instead of parrying, reignited his lightsaber to cut her from inside her guard...and promptly received a kick in the stomach from Sing, flying back.

But Sing's victory was short-lived. Even before she could put her leg back down she cried out in pain and went down, a vibro-knife sticking from her other calf.

"That's what you get for hurting my friend." Boba Fett said, his arm still outstretched from the throw as he panted. 

"You little shit--!" Sing rolled to face him and fired at him again, but Hoar ran between them again, and this time sliced off the barrel from Sing's blaster. Despite the blade in her leg, Sing forced herself to her feet and hobbled back, parrying Hoar's strikes. Hoar kept pushing, despite the fatigue burning his muscles, undercutting her every move--until he slipped and Sing nicked his thigh with her saber, making him crumple to the ground.

"Go join your family in Hell, freak." Sing spat, going in for the kill with an overhead strike. Panicking, hoar called bricks from the ruins to them with the Force, hitting Sing--one bouncing on the blade sticking out of her calf and pushing it out, splitting her muscle open. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, one that chilled Hoar right to the bone, and Hoar cringed back. He'd hurt her, horribly, and the sight of the injury made him want to retch. This wasn't at all what he'd seen from Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber marks on his family. Even that carnage was clear, burnt lines, quick and simple even in their anger, and the other had gone all down in a single stroke, while Sing wouldn't stop screaming, she just wouldn't stop screaming--

Invisible tendrils reached around Hoar's throat, cutting off his air supply as he was dragged towards Sing. "I'll fucking kill you!" the hunter screamed, but Boba's pistol was faster and it shot her lightsaber out of her hand. But it was brief respite, for the invisible grip tightened around Hoar's throat and Boba too started choking on nothing. Panicking more and more, Hoar tried to push against Sing's hatred in the Force, but it was useless. He was going to die like this.

Ancestors, please--not like this. Not like this! Give me help, at least in this place.

And help came. Two lithe arms wrapped around Sing's neck and head, putting her in a chokehold.

"Let them go." Barriss barked, tightening her hold on her. "Let them go, I said!"

"So the little Jedi...knows how to...fight!" Sing choked out, and kept Force-choking the two boys with a grin.

"I'm a medic. I know all the ways to put a patient to sleep."

"Then figure out wh...at comes first...me bleeding out or...these two running out of..a...ir..."

"I have a better idea." Barriss tightened her fingers around Sing's head, and as black spots started dancing in front of his eyes, for a moment Hoar throught Barriss was going to snap the bounty hunter's neck. But then it was as if something had given the Force a shove, and he was not in his body and yet precisely in the same spot. He felt the ruins around him, sand grains slowly moving with the weight of centuries, an endless pool of dead memories where sat Boba, him, Sing, and Barriss Offee. He saw Boba's greenish-hued presence slowly returned to normal, and then he saw the cracked glass of Aurra Sing as Barriss started pouring some of her blue aura inside it, as if trying to will the mirror-shards to still.

No, he told her in the Force. Will them back together.

He could feel Sing more closely now, the shadows of the Kumungah walking closer and closer to them from their ruins. He saw glimpses of a life in chains, of rejection, of abuse. He thought back to the other weird pale lady, Asajj Ventress, and how she was mirror to Sing, how the cracks were more or less in place, of how she had witnessed love when Sing witnessed abuse, and vice versa. He felt venom and pain pour out of Sing, not even out of a sense of self-preservation anymore, but just a desire to hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt as much as she could before she died. 

Push it out. Even pain dies in the Desert, because the sand doesn't care. It is a million different grains of dead pain, he spoke, and he did not know if it was all him or it was the Kumungah, too, surviving the Taka'ar of Lehon, surviving the sand, surviving the darkness of Desert-making Suns. The Desert has seen worse. Even if the Desert takes you, you won't be the worst it has seen. Push it all out. It doesn't matter to the Desert. The Desert will not judge. The Desert will set you free.

And then they were all among the ruins again, healed of all their injuries, Sing knocked out cold.

"Force." Barriss breathed, voice shaky. "I never want to do that again."

"It was...weird." Boba shook himself. "Was that all you, Hoar?"

Hoar stood up on wobbly legs and helped Boba get up himself. "It was the Desert." Hoar said, simply, and then turned to Barriss. "You're a medic, no?"

"Yes. Though this wasn't what I'm...was...used tho." Barriss said as she retrieved Sing's ithe pair of Force-dampeners to cuff her with it. "Thanks fot the help, young one." she smiled at Hoar, tired herself, and the boys went to sit with her. "Many of us in the Order knew a bit about Sing's past. I doubt we've seen all of it even today. I doubt we could even fully help her...I don't even know what will happen when she wakes up."

"The Desert is wide." Hoar said. "There's room for her. There's room for everyone."

 

-line break-

 

"Come on, who's the psycho who puts a torpedo in a hospital nursery?!" Korian cried out as the odd trio of him, A'Sharad and Karla tried to move around cribs and medical equipment to find out where the bomb had been hidden, with twenty different kids all wailing at their mess.

"If you keep shouting it won't help anybody." A'Sharad hissed at him, hovering around the babies and trying to send out soothing tendrils of energy to them as much as he could. "The enemy could be anywhere around us."

"What kind of madman would even put a bomb in here?" Karla griped, tearing through a desk, and got a cold chuckle from the other side of the door in return, a red-haired woman in a black jumpsuot stepping in.

"Please, Travis might be humorless, but he's not a madman. His plans are always very sensible." she said.

"Travis? The miner guy double agent?" Korian perked up, seemingly unfazed, and Karla stepped in, training her blaster on the woman with shaky hands.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Check under the floorboards three feet from the medicine cabinet." the woman replied with a smile, and trained a blaster on the group. "The bomb is there. And I'll shoot you all if you try to disarm it."

"Why would you do this?" Karla snapped. "These are children!"

"Exactly. That's why you won't shoot me, none of you will. You don't want to traumatize the little ones with the sight of violence. The big scary Tusken is basically playing mom to all of them right now with his Jedi powers." she chuckled, and cocked her gun at Karla. "Luckily, they don't train people like me have such qualms."

She made to fire, Karla freezing on the spot like a deer in the headlights. She blanched, half-seeing the blaster bolt charge up inside the barrel of the other woman's gun--but then Korian bum-rushed the woman through the door, the shot harmlessly exploding on the ceiling and her gun clattering to the floor without an owner, and she was thrown out of her shock.

"Get the bomb, I'll help Korian." A'Sharad told her, running into the other room, and Karla had to take a moment before she could even react to that.

A'Sharad didn't give himself that luxury. He found Korian on the floor of what looked like the medical supplies room, wrestling with the woman for control of Korian's gun, and before he could take out a single weapon, the Togruta was thrown right into him by a kick to the stomach. A'Sharad caught Korian, losing his breath in the process, and had to throw the other man to the ground while the mysterious woman took out her blaster and started unloading on them. A'Sharad wasted no time in igniting one of his lightsabers and parrying the shots, redirecting them all to the ceiling, but there was very little room for manouverability here. He thought of Force-pushing the woman through the wall, but found himself too drained even for that: every cell in his body strained at the mere use of the Force.

He did the next best thing: he pushed a box of supplies at the woman, who pushed it away with her elbow, but it gave him the opening to go in for a stab. The woman, however, sidestepped it, letting the lightsaber embed itself into the before grabbing him by his robes and shooting him repeatedly in the gut. A'Sharad tapped into the Force to dispel the energy of the blasts, but it didn't work completely--it was like being punched repeatedly with a mallet that was on fire. With a grunt of pain, he wrestled his other arm free and punched the woman straight in the face. The woman responded by roaring and throwing him against a cabinet. A'Sharad hissed, feeling his shoulder blades cringe and his skin being pricked by a thousand glass shards, and Force-pushed the woman away. The woman was slammed against the wall, but she neither broke through nor slumped down, and A'Sharad fell to the floor, his knees crashing into a mess of scalpels, vials, syringes, bandages and broken glass, panting and coughing in effort. His lungs were burning like crazy. Shit, he thought. He really should have taken the bacta pill Karla had tried to give him earlier.

"Pitiful." the woman commented, wiping blood from her broken nose, and took out a vibroblade. "The briefings made you scarily effective--but all I see is a pathetic, wounded animal."

"You exploded...a fucking spaceship on me. Give me a break."

"Oh, I will. I'll give you a break from life." the woman said, stepping closer to press the barrel of the gun to one of A'Sharad's lenses. "Ellan Brie always puts dogs out of their misery. Any last words, Jedi?"

"Sure. Look behind you."

"As if I'd ever fall for that--" the woman laughed--and was promptly knocked three feet back when Koria hit her in the face with a medical tray. "Son of a bitch!" Brie said, barely regaining her composure as both men rushed her. With incredible speed, she latched her leg around a wheeled gurney and pushed it at them. Korian jumped over it and A'Sharad cut it in two with his lightsaber, but this separated the two men, and Brie pressed the advantage without missing a beat. She ducked and slid on her knees under another swing of Korian's tray, shot it out of his hands, shot at his thigh to pin him on the spot, spun spun into A'Sharad's guard and delivered a devastating kick right into his gut where she'd injured him moments before. She smiled, triumphant, before turning back to Korian Maas--and frowning, puzzled.

She knelt down and exhamined the man's body. His eyes were wide open in shock wasn't breathing anymore. She heard no sound and his chest wasn't moving. How had she killed him? She'd just shot him in the leg. A broken neck from this fall wouldn't happen...

But what did happen was that she felt her neck be pierced by something. A very thin, very sharp something, and then something else was pushed inside her, and she started choking on‐-

"Made you look." Korian Maas said with a smile, as he pushed all the air from the empty sirynge he's pulled up from the floor right into her Aorta. Brie stumbled back, gargling blood, dropping her blaster and clutching her neck and trying to pull the syringe out...but then she fell down, and soon was still.

"Embolism? That's a horrible way to go." A'Sharad commented, picking himself to the floor with effort.

"Shut up. I saved our lives, din't I?"

"And earlier you were telling me off for being too intense."

"I worry because I care about you." Korian said, and reached for bandages through gritted teeth. "Shit. Glad she didn't even nick the artery...hurts like Hell tho..."

"Let me." A'Sharad hovered a hand over Korian's wound, and the Togruta grabbed his hand.

"Are you mad? You're busted up far worse than me. Use your healing magic on yourself, if you've gotta pass out on us."

"I do it because I care about you." A'Sharad stated. "Please, Korian. I've been nothing but a jerk to you until now. It's not fair."

Korian scoffed out a chuckle. "What's this language? Could it be you're starting to like me?"

"Despite you being annoying as all Hells...Yes, Korian Maas. I wish I was the man you were."

Korian choked on nothing. "W-what? Come on, this ain't the time for jokes."

"You're far more self-adjusted, self-confident and self-assured than I am. You dive headfirst into danger even if you're one of the weakest among us--"

"I take offense to that--"

"--Shut up. You saved my life. And the others told me about what you did on Zygerria. You're brave, Korian Maas, and not only when it comes to fighting. You're not afraid to live yourself as what you really are." A'Sharad explained as he slowly healed Korian's leg, the Togruta only shifting slightly as the flesh around the wound closed back together. "I envy you, Korian. Nobody takes you seriously and you don't care. You just...like who you are."

"Ash." Korian said, putting a hand on A'Sharad chest. "I get what you're saying. Really. I do. You don't have to beat yourself up though, you..."

"I'm sorry." A'Sharad said, and his gloved hands went to the back of his mask, and gingerly, took it off. Korian was met with a human face, decorated with tribal tatoos and scarred with light burn marks from the previous day's bombing, messy hair jutting out from the crown of his head in a sideshave and tapering down the back in a braid, with full lips and and wet, brown eyes. "I'm an embarassment, even at this."

"You're beautiful." Korian said, caressing his face as he drew closer. A'Sharad made a choking sound, leaning into the touch, and squeezed his eyes firmly shut. "Really. You're one of the most beautiful guys I've ever seen, Ash."

A'Sharad breathed hard, and reopened his eyes. "Korian...I think I'm gonna pass out soon. You guys were right. I should have accepted the bacta, I should have accepted help--"

"Sssh. It's alright, darling. You want me to help you put the mask back on?"

"That's not the kind if help I want." A'Sharad said. Their faces were now inches for each other. "I...I want to give you a kiss. Like you and Luke do with each other...but I never kissed anyone before. This would be my first kiss."

"I hope we can have your second in brighter circumstances." Korian chuckled, keeping his hand on A'Sharad cheek and playing with his hair with the other, but leaned in all the same, and planted a small, sweet kiss on A'Sharad's lips. "Take your time, big boy."

Breathless, A'Sharad returned the kiss as if Korian's lips were an anchor in the ocean. He clung at Korian, tears streaming down his face, kissing him deeper and deeper as the other man climbed into his lap, until he had to break for air.

"Stars." A'Sharad keened. "Oh Gods. Oh please." he panted, and Korian planted another sweet kiss on his lips to help him calm down.

Korian kissed away his tears. "Just wait till you kiss Luke, too."

A'Sharad went red, and choked on air again before he groaned out in shame. "I feel like an idiot. I wasted water, too. You'll think I'm just a dumb schoolboy. I..."

"Sure, only an enormous idiot would have the hottest man in the Galaxy in his lap and think he is somehow at fault for something." Korian brushed back A'Sharad's hair with a playful smile. "Come on, big boy. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"But I...I don't not want to."

"Ah, yes. You want it, you're imagining it." Korian said, and A'Sharad choked again. "Stars, you might be the Galaxy's biggest virgin, its biggest twunk and its biggets bottom all rolled into one package."

"Don't make me think about that." A'Sharad shoved him off his lap. "There, we got distracted. We need to help Karla, and--"

"Your mask."

"...Oh." A'Sharad said, and gingerly put the mask back on with Korian's help. "Right. Thanks. But Karla..."

"Karla is going to die--like the rest of you fuckers." a wheezing, ragged voice spoke out from behind them, and they turned to see Brie stand up with a remote in her hand. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale, drying blood streaking her mouth, and a bacta patch pressed to her neck, but she held the remote firm like a part of her own hand. "I'm gonna detonate the bomb--blow all of us into the atmosphere."

"You'll die too." Korian said, his spine going cold.

"I don't care." Brie said, and went to press the button on the remote.

Nothing happened.

Brie blanched, and started pressing the button over and over, cursing fruitlessly at the apparent malfunction.

"Your bomb is not going to go off." Karla Darklighter said, entering the room with what looked like disassembled controls and an explosive charge in her hands. "I took it apart."

"What?!" Brie crushed the remote in her hand and bolted to her feet, and everyone in the room could feel the killing intent radiating from her. "You ignorant, meddling backwaters...do you have any idea who you're pushing your luck with? Whose plans you keep ruining? Whose will you keep defying?! On whose graces you keep on living, and on whose anger you will die?!"

"I'm a doctor, not a killer like you people. I know my surgery. I can take apart your silly bombs like a ribcage and a tumor." Karla said, standing her ground. "Whoever you and your friends are, I couldn't care less, and I don't give a fuck who gives you orders. You don't get to harm my people. And you know why? Becaus eyou only know how to hurt people. I'm a doctor. I'm a medic. I know how to fix them up, how to make people well again, and I like doing it for my people. So if I say nobody dies here today...then that's exactly what happens."

Brie's fury lasted for all of one second after Karla's word before twisting and breaking into utter rage. Her face contorted into a snarl and she screamed at them. She held up a hand, and A'Sharad felt the unmistakable hand of the dark side tighten around his throat. He saw Korian and Karla gasp for air, choking on nothing, Brie throwing all her rage and hatred at them. And so he tapped into the Force, into the very last of his rerves...and managed to muster enough strength to Force-push her again, this time sending Brie flying through the supplies room window. The assassin screamed in fear, shattering the window into a thousand pieces and hurtling down the street below.

"What...what the Hell was that?" Karla coughed, rubbing her throat. "I felt--I felt like she wanted to destroy me at a cellular level, and then I couldn't breathe--"

"That...was the dark side of the Force. Anger, spiteful, petty anger made manifest in a desire to hurt and kill." A'Sharad stated, panting from his effort. "Someone trained her. Shit. If the other guy we left the others with can do this too--"

"We'll go help them." Korian reassured him, rubbing his throat himself and putting a hand on his shoulder to gently squeeze it. "In any case, we succedeed...and we have the good Dr. Darklighter to thank that we haven't been blown up."

A'Sharad turned towards Karla, and for a moment, he saw two of her. Ancestors, he was feeling dizzy.

"Doctor," he said, grasping her hand. "Thank you. We all have a debt we can never repay with you."

Karla looked at him for a moment, taken aback, before her black eyes squeezed and softened. "You saved me too, Hett. I'm sorry for how I treated you."

"It's alright," A'Sharad smiled under his mask. "Now, if you don't mind...I'm gonna pass out."

And he did exactly that.

 

-line break-

 

"Get off, you morons, there's not enough room for everybody." Huff Darklighter said, as he and his cohorts tried to push the mining technicians out of the skyhopper they were trying to flee in.

"Unbelievable." Travis facepalmed as he observed the spectacle from the roof.

"Do something, Travis!" Darklighter called, and Travis sighed, walking to the four or five techs still hanging on and dragging them off with him on the roof.

"You people take up weapons." he said. "You stay here with me and we finish this."

"B-but the bosses are getting away."

"And you're workers. Workers who sat by while your bosses and their agents murdered your fellow workers and did nothing." Travis smiled. "How do you think the people down there will treat you when they catch you?"

One of the techs swallowed. "Alright."

"Good boy." Travis said, handing him a pistol. "You have no other options left, after all."

"No." another technician, harder, took another pistol. But just right then, the entrance to the roof was blown open, and the posse started pouring in.

Travis immediately started firing in the group as it dispersed, cutting down people: Faala pushed to the front, deflecting blaster bolts, while Beru darted out and fired stun bolts at two of the technicians. They went down flat immediately, while the other two fired at her in a panic, but the other members of the posse stunned them too.

"Idiots." Travis growled, switching rifles and unloading submachine blasterfire into Faala. The young Jedi could only hold his fire so long before being pushed back, and Travis pressed the advantage by throwing a thermal detonator into the crowd, but Faala Force-pushed it away, making it explode harmlessly into the air. Travis ran way from the posse's blaster fire, left alone, ducking out from the many crates, barrels and empty batteries on the roof, and soon found a hiding spot while the crowd started firing at Darklighter's skyhopper in an effort to stop its ascent.

Travis breathed, and decided to go the opposite way, entering the building by the back elevator--and in doing so found himself face to face with Scott and Kitster.

"Found you, you bastard." Kitster snarled, raising his blaster, but Travis retaliated by pushing Scott into him. Kitster oomphed and stumbled back the two men falling to the elevator's floor in a tangle of limbs, but Scott managed to raise his blaster and unload blindly on Travis, grazing his side and bicep with stray bolt.

Travis hissed in pain, and fired a bolt in Scott's stomach, making him keel over in pain.

"You bastard!" Kitster screamed, and rushed Travis, punching him with all the force of his robot arm. "I'll kill you!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Travis stated, his face a bloody mess from his broken nose and busted lip, and took out a vibroblade. Kitster evaded the first stab, narrowly missed the second, and caught the third in his cybernetic wrist. With an almighty grunt, he gritted his teeth and disarmed Travis, pushing him against the side of the roof at with a blaster to his neck. "You're finished, fucker, whoever you are." Kitster said, as the wind and the air blown back from the skyhopper's repulsorlift engines blasted the roof and howled between the power plant's processing and transmission towers. "Your bosses are fleeing, and you're in our hands."

"I'm sorry." Travis said, and pressed a button on his belt. "But you've got the hierarchy of power all wrong."

Right as it had reached a safe height, one of the skyhopper's engines blew up, making it lose control. The aircraft started to spin madly towards the roof, drawing closer and closer.

"No!" Faala cried out, and threw her hands out to stop it with the Force. Kitster paled, crying out her name, and Travis used his distraction to body-slam him away and take his blaster.

"Yes!" Travis said, and shot at the young Jedi.

But it didn't matter. Faala hadn't been strong enough to stop the skyhopper's fall, and the aircraft hit the transmission towers. The world when bright with energy...and then the power plant blew up.

 

-line break-

 

"No!" Karla breathed as she saw the power plant explode from the window of the room she and Korian were tending to A'Sharad in. "No." she added, quieter, almost falling on the windowsill in shock. "I can't believe they really did it. I can't believe he did it..." fiery debris rained from the explosion on the surrounding edifices, setting fire to houses and workshops alike. The sky began to tinge itself of an angry orange, draped in black smoke.

Hell had come to Mos Pelgo.

"Huff."

Even without having the Force, Korian could feel something shift and crack in Karla's heart. He grabbed her hand, and turned her to face him. "Please don't rush off to do anything stupid." he asked, and as Karla turned to him, her face strained to keep all her anger inside.

"I will kill my brother. Gods be damned, I will."

"Please don't. You've sworn an oath as a doctor. You told that woman earlier, remember? You don't kill people. You help--"

"What do you care?" Karla threw off his hand. "I said nobody would die, too. And now the explosion--"

"There were a lot of people at the plant. I've been in enough conflicts by now to be sure they're not all dead. Some might be, but many more are wounded and need help. So that's your priority, alright?" Korian pressed, and Karla looked away. 

"Why do you care, again? And why is it that it's so wrong for me to feel like this?"

"It's not. It's human. But if you give in to waht you're feeling, and destroy a life just to satisfy that feeling...it will tear you apart inside. You'll become hollow, uncaring, dead to the world." Korian said. "I was born like that. I spent most of my life like that, and I had no problem with giving in. And I would like to help avoid people ending up like that if I can. It's not nice."

Karla wiped at her eyes even if they were dry. "Beru..."

"Beru is tough. You and I both know that. And if she needs help, you'll help her." Korian handed her one of his blasters. "I'm trusting you to only use the stun setting."

"That's an afwul lot of trust."

"Luke taught me people are often more worth it than what they think about themselves." Korian smiled, softly. "Now go, Dr. Darklighter."

Karla took the blaster, and ran outside in the fires and the smoke.

 

-line break-

 

Pain. Pain is nothing but potential. Pain leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. And hate leads to power.

Ellan Brie dragged herself along on a broken shin. She had put bacta spray on the injury, made a makeshift brace, and she had drank her bacta vials and put a bacta patch on her neck, but deep down, she knew it was only her anger and hatred that were helping her along. She thought of her daughter Shira. Her superiors had chosen the name, she had given them the baby soon without a second thought: the ultimate test to receive the ultimate training, the one very few of his operatives received. And now she had lost to a Force-null alien and a half-dead Jedi savage. But she could still reach Travis, and help him kill as many of Skywalker's people as possible, even if they were the weaker ones.

Gritting her teeth, she reached the wreckage of the power plant. Dizzy, she saw a teenager helping a middle-aged couple of miners out of the flaming, smoking ruins.

She took the opportunity.

She whipped out her blaster, downing the two old folks and clipping the teenager on the leg as he tried to dart away. She shot at her, missing completely.

"You bastard!" he cried. "You shot Wilma and Bento!"

They're not dead yet, but what does it matter? You hate me. And that's good. Your hatred makes you strong.

USE IT.

"Fuck your hatred." she heard a shaky voice from behind her, and she turned to see a yellow-skinned Twi'Lek with scarred lekkus turn on a red-bladed short lightsaber. "Stand down, whoever you are, and I can promise you I'll be merciful."

Intelligence briefings flashed into her head and she recognized her, even out of uniform, as one of Ka'lir Ni'aversa'al's lieutenants. "Bold words for one who wields the opposite of the Jedi color," she said, remembering his training. "But then again, you're not really a Jedi, are you? And neither is your teacher."

"My teacher said they were in a hurry when they built this. And I can assure you, no matter the color, it can cut you down like any other lightsaber."

"Like I deserve."

"W-what?"

"Say the quiet part out loud. I know you're thinking that, little fake Jedi." Brie flashed the girl a bloody smile.

"Shut up."

"Pathetic little girl. You think you have now risen to something and earned the right to be moral about anything? You're nothing, all of you--you're all still nothing but slaves--"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Faala roared, throwing herself at her with her shoto. Brie dodged, and shot the girl in the arm like it was nothing. Faala swung wildly, narrowly missing her again, and Brie took out a vibroblade. She stumbled, the brace on her shin creaking as she put her weight wrong, and she pushed the girl away with the Force. Faala crashed into a pile of debris, and summoned the smaller pieces to fly towards her opponent, but Brie screamed into the Force, pulverizing them. She marveled at her own power, elated. Travale would have to bow before her, one of these days.

"Like I said...pathetic." she called Faala's shoto to her with her free hand. "You just don't hate me enough." Faala bristled, and Brie Force-pushed her to the ground again. "No." she said. "Stay down. That's where you belong. That's--" she cried out in the middle of her sentence, a blaster bolt impacting her hand and making her lose the lightsaber. She felt flesh burn and bones shatter, and she brought her hand to her chest, bringing her blaster front to shoot at whoever had wounded her, but another blaster bolt impacted it and knocked it out of her good hand.

"Trust me..we hate you plenty." Kitster Chanchani Banai said, pointing his blaster at her with his left hand, his prosthetic a melted steel mess and a trickle of blood running down his forehead.

"You!" Brie spat. "Travis should have put a bolt through your head first things first."

"His error, your loss." Kitster smiled, walking to Faala. "Faala, you can do this. Take your lightsaber."

"Kitster..." Faala breathed. "You don't understand. I want to kill her. I want to make her scream."

Kitster looked at her, dead serious. "You think I don't?"

"No."

"Well, I do. But it doesn't matter. We need to stop this madness, eliminate the threat, and go back to helping our people. Simple as that. Would hatred help any better in it?"

Faala closed her eyes, holding the shoto's hilt tight in her hands. She could feel the crystal vibrating, thrumming with power, resonating in her anger. But she let it all out, let it all dissipate in the Force, and thought back to her lessons with Luke.

Fear leads to anger.

She called to her a cloud of dust, blindsiding Brie and rushing her.

Anger leads to hate.

She avoided the assassin's vibroblade, her shoto's cutting apart the weapon with her shoto.

Hate leads to the dark side.

The shoto's blade stopped at Brie's neck...and it was white.

And the dark side is weak.

Brie was staggered back by a wave of stillness as the shoto turned off, Faala emanating her power in the Force, dwarfing her.

"This is as far as you go", she said, both in the Force and with her voice. "Now tell us everything you know."

Something seemed to break inside Ellan Brie. She had failed. She had failed even to accomplish a single goal, and this girl was letting her know. This girl, this...slave...she was just like that doctor. Unflinchingly, disgustingly moral.

And she couldn't stand it.

She lunged at Faala, throwing herself at her, reaching around her throat with her good hand, but her shin brace splintered, and she lost her balance. They rolled into the dirt, and Ellan felt the searing punch of the lightsaber's blade pass through her stomach.

She thought of Shira in her last moments, wondering if she was even alive, and thought about how all her choices had been a waste.

 

-line break-

 

The man known as Travis had seen all of that. And having seen all of that, he had decided that the best course of action would be to flee the planet and report to his superiors. The man known as Travis would be punished for a failure, maybe, but little more than a slap on the wist for Aidan Travale, Lieutenant Colonel of Republic Intelligence, because there was a voctory to be made out of this mess. The plan had failed, yes, but Tatooine's economy, morale and resources had been dealt a major blow. He could cut his losses and still come out of the whole affair clean.

Nursing some minor cuts and burns, he stalked the smoke-filled, burning streets to get away.

Until he heard the click of a rifle's safety behind him.

He darted out of the way just in time, rolling to the ground as a burst of blaster fire flew through the spot he was standing in just a moment prior.

"Travis!"

He whipped back mid-roll, firing four times with his pistol at the two figures he spotted in his fall. There was a cry, and he saw a short-barrel blaster fly out of Beru Lars's hands, while Dormer, the representative, fell down dead with two holes in his chest and head. Lars went to shoot her again, but found that his ammo was already out. Mph. Small matter.

Lars threw a rock at him, or a piece of debris, he couldn't figure--but what he could figure was it's trajectory, so he caught it in mid-air and shot it back against her non-limping leg, making her cry out in pain and fall to the ground.

"And stay fucking down." Travis growled, but Beru threw one of her legs out, hitting him in the shin.

Travis cried out and fell, reaching for the woman's rifle, but Beru whipped out a knife and stabbed him through his hand right as his palm reached the blaster's handle.

"You think we're that easy to kill, huh?" Beru snarled, twisting the knife through his hand as he screamed in pain, and Travis grit his teeth and kicked her in the face.

"Yes!" he shouted, pulling the knife out of his hand, throwing both it and the now-useless blaster away, and then bandaging his hand with bacta strips. He felt feeling return inside it, and he clenched it tight, groaning in pain, before using it to grab Dormer's still-intact blaster and point it at Beru's head. "You die like everyone else, you ignorant fucking farmgirl. And you're gonna die because you pissed off the wrong fucking people."

"Amazing. Every word of what you just said...was wrong." Beru laughed. "Look behind you, Taka'ar." she said, and Travis's spine ran cold as he heard footsteps approaching from behind, with all the calm of a stroll. He turned and saw, finally, his enemy.

Luke Skywalker.

Their uniform had been torn, their longcoat discarded, their chest armor and battle jacket destroyed revealing the dark undershirt below. Blood quietly dripped or seeped from numerous cuts and wounds on their body, staining their clothes, and their hair was matted over their bruised face, obscuring their eyes.

"Luke Skywalker." Travis straightened his back and tried to laugh. "I see Durge did quite a number on you. You look like you're in horrible pain...but don't worry." he added, and moved his gunsights from Beru's head to Skywalker's. "I'm going to finish the job and put you out of your misery."

"Funny...that's not what I'm going to do to you."

"Oh?"

"You ain't gonna be that lucky." Luke Skywalker opened their eyes, and it was like a shockwave hit Travis. His gun was pulled apart in a hundred pieces and he was knocked back, rolling several feet in the dirt.

He had just enough time to get his face out of the dirt to dodge a direct punch from Skywalker--a punch that cracked the earth. Travis staggered back as Skywalker turned to face him, their visage a neutral, unfeeling mask where two blue eyes burned with the fury of the Suns. Istinctively, Travis reached for the smaller pistol on his boot--but he had barely enough time to reach it that Skywalker's mere gaze seemed to dismantle it too and once again send him flying several feet.

Travis gasped in pain. It was like being in a hurricane. He grasped for something, anything, and then his fingers found Beru's knife. Then he felt Skywalker grab him in the Force and speed-drag him toward themselves, and smiled, for it was exactly what he wanted. Taking advantage of his superior height and reach, he thrust out with the knife and stabbed Skywalker in the chest just as they went to punch him.

It was a desperate plan, and a simple plan, and a perfect plan, and that was the beauty of it in Travis's mind. And it almost worked...but Beru threw her leg between his at the most critical second, and he slipped.

And so the knife did not make contact with Skywalker's chest. It made contact with the necklace they were wearing, what looked like a small, refractive yellow pearl: when the blade touched it, it glowed, electricy crackling through it--and the two combatants were thrown backwards in a shockwave that knocked out all the fires raging through the area.

Shit, thought Travis as he landed, almost thrown out of his own body, Was that the Force?

"It was." Luke Skywalker said, stepping through the haze and grabbing Travis by the face. "Everything is. Including you."

And then Travis was really thrown out of his own body. He felt himself being ripped apart at a cellular level, blaster bolts punching through him, his flesh burning like it was on fire: he saw himself as he did those things to the Tuskens and to the miners, earliers, and it was like he was doing it all to himself now, and he pleaded, begged, cried, screamed for mercy; but he had none to give. He felt Luke Skywalker's light breaking through every mental barrier he had built and trained himself to hold, pushing past all his memories, and finally--

"You."

Chancellor Palpatine fell back in his chair right in the midst of a Loyalist Committee-and-Jedi shared meeting, nose bleeding and his eyes rolled back. Mace Windu and Padme Amidala rushed to his side; as did his aide, Mas Amedda, and Viceroy Bail Organa and Senator Mon Mothma, and Jedi Master Kit Fisto; only Grandmaster Yoda distinguished himself by staying back, his face dark as he observed the events.

"Chancellor," Padme tried to shake him, "Chancellor!"

But Sidious was not there with her, not immediately. Subconsciously, he knew the voice that had spoken into his head: he had heard it on video, he had sent his operatives to Tatooine to find out their true identity: and yet, now...it seemed as if it had been burned out of his head, his connection to the operatives severed. He could not understand how it had happened...he only half-remembered the flash of green lightning.

He cursed, and donned once again the mask of Sheev Palpatine, Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic.

"I'm fine, gentlemen." he said with a smile, and took out a handkerchief to wipe at his nose. "Now, what were we saying?"

 

-line break-

 

When Karla found her brother standing over Scott's corpse with a blaster, she immediately pointed her own at him.

"Drop the gun, Huff. Now." she said, slwoly walking towards him, and her brother looked at her with sunken, empty eyes.

"It's not what it looks like, Karla, I swear." he said, and his hands tightened around the weapon.

"Is it? Because it looks like Hell, Huff. Is this what you wanted? Is this why you sold us out?" Karla said, eyes burning and stinging with hot tears, the words coming out like jagged knives of teeth and bile. "Was it even worth it?"

"I didn't understand." Huff said, sinking to his knees among the ruins, but he didn't look at Karla. He kept looking at Scott's gray, lifeless body. He seemed far away, like he was on another planet. "I didn't understand."

"I still don't understand!" Karla cried, tears finally spilling again. "How could you do it, Huff! How many people died, just today, so you could try and go back to being the richest man on Tatooine?!"

"I don't know--I don't know." tears were rolling down Huff's face too now, almost by themselves; the man didn't seem aware of them in the slightest.

"You're a sleemo, Huff, a keekta-du! I should kill you--I should kill you for what you've done!" Karla shouted, grabbing him by the hair and shoving her blaster against his chin, before choking on her tears. "I should kill you, Huff. But I won't. You caused enough death and I don't want to add anymore to it." she threw away her blaster, and took away Huff's too, smashing it against a nearby pile of debris. "My job's the opposite of that anyway...and I've got far too much work to do to care about you."

With that Karla turned her back to him, and walked away--but Huff seemed to come back to his senses, and he grabbed her hand, asking her through the tears: "Please...don't tell Biggs. Ever."

"Why shouldn't I?" Karla shoved him off. "Even children deserve to know the truth of their parents."

"They do." Luke Skywalker's eerily calm voice said, and Karla shifted slightly as the diminutive leader came up to them, back still straight despite all the injuries. "Little by little, he will grow up knowing, until he can handle the whole truth." they said, and Karla could feel a tinge of bitterness in their voice, but a distant one, as if remembering things from their own past. "In the meantime, Huff Darklighter...you will work. You will have a salary, housing, rest and care like every other worker. You'll help rebuild what you destroyed, until your sentence is served. That is your punishment."

Karla raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have killed him, being you a soldier and him...well..."

"A traitor?"

"Yeah."

"Keekta-du are worse than that, Karla. And I only used to be a soldier. But why would I kill him? Look at him. His spirit is already dead." Luke said, and Huff only stared at the dirt. This time, he couldn't manage to look back at Scott's body. "No. Let him work. He will learn what it means. He will learn to feel like the people he enslaved and tried to enslave again, and he will understand why our way is better."

"You really believe in this socialism stuff, huh?"

"It's nothing different from what you do, Dr. Darklighter." Luke said, and then grasped their pearl necklace, pensive. "Have you ever seen a Krayt dragon pearl, Karla?"

"Not that small, no." Karla looked them over. Luke Skywalker never seemed to be fully there except from when they were being angry or snarky. "A'Sharad...Comrade Hett earlier said he gave it to you because you're important to him."

"He did?" Luke's face seemed to open up, like a sky after a storm...and then it clouded over again, becoming even grayer. "I know enough of Tusken rituals to understand what it means, you know."

"Then why are you scared of it? Man's been really angry that you haven't talked about it once since."

"Because if Zygerria's taught me something, is that my days are numbered in a whole other way compared to all of yours."

"That sounds like bullshit, but alright." Karla said, putting a cigarette in her mouth. "I'll leave you to your stuff, then. I have work to do."

"Hey." Luke stopped her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You did good." they said, those blue eyes smiling like she'd never seen them do with her. "Thank you for everything, Karla."

Karla was at a loss for words. She stumbled with her lighter, before cursing and putting it away. "I...I was just trying." she said, crumpling the cigarette in her hand and trying to swallow the knot in her throat. Shavit, she'd just finished crying. Why would she waste water again? Why was Skywalker having this effect on her, simply by...by recognizing what she'd done? "Trying my best not to go crazy in all...this."

"Maybe. But nobody can see it at the endgoal. Do or do not, there is no try. You did your best, you did good, and that's what matters." Luke said, smiling. "And...you don't have to do it all alone. I'll help you with your work."

Karla looked at them again, and blinked away the tears. "Alright, then." she breathed. "Let's go help some people."

"Starting with Beru. She'll be probably mad if we don't start with her."

"Don't tell me, the girl is a madwoman."

The two chuckled, giggling before descending into a full-breasted, tired laughter, while in the center of the Galaxy, the dark side raged.

The face and name of Luke Skywalker had been wiped from the mind of Darth Sidious.

Notes:

Aaaand what a whopper it was to finally see this arc to its end. It was an uphill battle to find the morivation to write again, but in finishing this I managed to have fun and fin the energy I needed to start writing with enthusiasm again.

By the way: Travale is a name I borrowed from a Legends character who in the novel "Labyrinth of Evil" is part of Republic Intelligence and a proppnent of the adoption of tractor beam tech. Ellan Brie is my invention, but her daughter Shira Ellan Cola Brie is one of Luke Skywalker's oldest nemesises, from all the way back in the old Marvel Star Wars comica published in the 1970s. She was an Empire mole in the Rebellion, semingly killed by Luke only to later return as a Dark Lady of the Sith, the cyborg Lumiya.

I leave you with a juicy little morsel for the next chapter, in the meantime ;)

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER

Padme Amidala sat back, and let the grim realization settle into her gut. They were really going to do it. They were going to take the man who had mentored her, the man who she had most trusted in her life...and stab him in the back.

Chapter 14: New Plans

Notes:

Well, Pride Month hasn't been kind. I'm being forced to look for a new job, I've had a death in the family, lost a novel I was working on...but fight on. It's worthy, to struggle, to fight to enjoy a better life than what this society offers us. We deserve it, so why shouldn't we struggle to gain it? I hope you're all holding on, out there, if you're having tough times, if you're being pushed down, knocked down. I hope you've got someone to support and help you. It's always easier fighting together.

Chapter 14: New Plans

Coruscant, Republica 500 apartment complex

Padme Amidala glanced at the clock above the small trio (of which she was a part) that sat in her living room. It wasn old analog clock, a craftman's work. Flowing lines and arms dancing into a wooden surface, portraying the serene landscape of the Varykino retreat on Naboo. It had been a gift from her mentor, Sheev Palpatine, to hold close to her when she'd started her career as a Senator. It had been the one thing she had not pulled apart in the paranoid frenzy that had gripped her after she'd found that note from Tatooine. That small note on a piece of flimsi, put into a pre-assembled lamp, in a room closed from all possible places of entrance, and with nothing to show from the security footage to help her put her mind at ease, with even her handmaiden intelligence network unable to turn anything up. She hadn't been able to think about much else, since then, besides helping Anakin with his law proposal for clone troopers' rights.

But now Anakin was gone, replaced by the absurd proposal her friends Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, sitting opposite her, separated only by a small tea table, had brought forward. She rubbed her face with her hands, sighing, and looked at them again.

"Please explain it once more. I feel like I'm going insane simply by entertaining the concept."

"It's simple, Padme." Mon Mothma said. "You were in the room with us when the Chancellor had a stroke."

"We don't know what it was. His medical checkups are a private affair, between him and his Cabinet."

"Nobody healthy has that big of a seizure." the Senator from Chandrila said. "And nobody with the responsibility of such a high office should just brush it off like he did with us, pretending he was fine."

Padme's fists tightened in her lap at those words, and her other friend, Bail Organa, cleared his throat. "Look, we don't have to be so confrontational abou it. But it's clear that the Chancellor is unwell. This war is taking its toll on the best of us..."

"He is supposed to be the best of us Bail. That's why we elected him and kept him in office all these years, remember?"

"That's exactly what I mean to say, Padme. He's a man in his sixties. He's a marvel he's managed to lead so long and so well...but we can all see he's been hit hard by the stress of the war and of the responsibilities of the highest office. And his leadership has suffered. He has become hawkish, unwilling to listen, and with his Jedi Advisors always on the frontlines, or on missions, there's nobody to tell him to take a moment and consider other option."

"Not that people like Jedi Skywalker are any less hawkish." Mon muttered, and Padme shot her a look as Bail cleared his throat to continue.

"Point being, the actions of the Rebel Alliance have afforded us a moment of relative calm we should take advantage of to finally broker peace with the Separatists. And instead, with our war machine spent, unable as we are to pay salaries and resources for our military, he keeps insisting on adding another front to this war."

"Bail is right, Padme. I'm sorry for my language earlier, but we simply can't afford the Chancellor's course of action if we want to end this war cleanly."

"Sure, but...what you two propose..." Padme swallowed. "Bail, Mon. Replacing him is out of the question, and you know that."

Mon Mothma shifted in her seat. "We know. Palpatine only made the different planetary interests of the Senate work thanks to his sheer charisma. And long are the enlightened days of Lina Soh."

"But," Bail added, "Who's talking about replacing him?"

And then it dawned on Padme. "You're talking about changing the Consitution."

"We're talking about making a stable majority around planned agreements and a shared program."

"No, no, I get it Mon." Padme sighed. "If our system is dependent on a single person to work, perhaps the problem is the system." she said, and both Mon and Bail shrank in their seats.

"I wouldn't--I mean, this Republic stood for a thousand years--"

"Sure. But since we don't have enlightened people anymore to make it work--" Padme tried to make a dismissive gesture with her hand, but suddenly she found her throat too tight, like her tongue had gotten caught in it. "No, I get it, I mean, it sounds strange--I must be talking like one of those communists from the Rebel Alliance--"

"Well, they might be rebels, but they did us a favor." Bail shifted in his seat. "I mean, surely none of us is advocating for change as radical or as violent as they are...but they seem to hold all the cards, and many more planets are joining their cause than they are joining ours. It's true that our Republic forgot the weakest among us, in this war. We ought to have a Republic true to its principles, and if we need a little change to accomplish it..." his lips tightened, and then he sighed, deeply: "Well then what the Hell, so be it."

"We'd need an airtight majority before we put forward any motion of dismissal towards the Chancellor." Padme said. "Sanctions are going to be the main point of contention for many."

"And the main point of agreement for just as many." Mon replied. "We need to get in touch with Satine before she ends up in bed with the Rebels. And you could call on Mina Bonteri in the Separatist Parliament, Padme."

"Yes, she's been the main voice of peace in the CIS for this past year and a half, and she's only gotten bolder now that Dooku has seemingly disappeared."

"I will, I will. But we'll need to begin to hash out a trade agreement. And a new tax plan. And we can't keep the banks so deregulated with what happened with the IGBC--"

"We'll have a field day with the Council of Neutral Systems--"

"Kryze will help us, she stands to lose just as much from these communists as anyone else. They're anti-monarchists, haven't you heard--"

"Yes, yes. I shudder to think at what they'd do to Breah..."

"Padme's proposal on clone troopers' rights could help us win a lot of public support back from them...Padme? Padme, are you listening?"

Padme Amidala was only half listening. She felt herself become numb. She sat back, and let the grim realization settle into her gut. They were really going to do it. They were going to take Chancellor Palpatine, the man who had mentored her, the man who she had most trusted in her life...and stab him in the back.

 

-line break-

Coruscant, the Works

If Darth Sidious, officially known as Sheev Palpatine, Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, was sure of one thing that morning, is that his back hurt like Hell. It was a piercing kind of pain, like someone had stuck a knife between his shoulder blades. It only added to the residual pain he felt in his head, and that only added to his frustration.

How? How had it managed to happen? He was the heir of Bane, the Sith'ari, the perfect being. He was the culmination of a thousand years of Sith learning. There was supposed to be nothing and no one left, at least in this millennia, capable of such an attack on the mind of a being as powerful as him.

For the first time in many, many years, he felt...threatened. His mental connection to two of his best assassin, two he had personally handpicked from Republic Intelligence and trained in the Dark Arts, had been abruptly snapped, and in the case of the one that had survived, Lieutenant Colonel Aidan Travale...it had been used to burn the name and the face of his enemy from his brain.

But who, or indeed what could it have been? A Jedi? A Sith? Something older and more arcane, something he himself had no knowledge of?

As he paced in the dim light that Coruscant's setting sun sent through the rusted metal and blown windows of the abandoned factories in the old industrial complex he had set up his lab in, Sidious let lightning dance between his fingertips. This time he was lucky--he had much more than a simple intern to fry.

And there was much to be angry about. Ever since the declaration of war from Tatooine, Dooku's reports had grown drier and more useless. It seemed as if his apprentice could muster no real opposition to the rebels of Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al, who seemed to decimate droid armies as they went, gathering allies left and right at the expense of the Republic, with their movement inspiring revolts and rebellions everywhere. It seemed as if the red stain that was expanding on the Galaxy had no proper way to be stopped, not even when attacked in its very heart.

And it had resurrected and turned Maul, to boot. Whoever Sidious was facing, and whoever were their true motives, was a powerful opponent. Another strand from the Banite Order, perhaps? It had happened, in the past...or maybe it was something far more eldritch.

The door to Sidious's lab slid open. Tables and cases filled with Sith artifacts and unfinished, twisting, misshappen things glittered in the stark neon-white lighting of the black room. Sidious ignored all of them, walking to the bacta tank on the side of the room. Travale was suspended inside, floating in his sleep as the bacta mended the injuries he'd received in the battle of Mos Pelgo.

Sidious made a face. No, that was far too peaceful a picture, especially given the operative's abject failure. He'd have to change that.

He laid his hand over the glass of the tank, his blue lightning once again dancing between his fingers, and Aidan Travale's eyes snapped open, looking at him with nothing but horror in his eyes. Whether it was horror of what Travale had suffered on Tatooine or of what he knew, deep in his bones, that Sidious was going to do to him, Sidious relished in his fear all the same, and drew on it in the Force to power what was about to happen. Travale had proven a failure, yes...Sidious would just have to experiment a little bit more.

-line break-

Faala had been feeling a deep unease in the two days since the battle of Mos Pelgo. Every time she looked at her teacher, she felt their presence, their colors muted into an almost pale gray...and she knew she was responsible. Her hands were stained with the blood of his future, and there was nothing she could do about it. So she kept her distance for the most part, aided by the fact that due to their injuries Luke had to sit out a great deal of the rebuilding efforts, even with Barriss's help in Jedi healing.

But on the third day, she could wait no longer. She sought her teacher, finding them on the roof of the hospital, bandages going from their extremities into their white Jedi tunic. They were taking notes in a little red book, frowning in concentration, and Faala sent out a gentle wave of calmness and friendliness to let them know she wanted to talk.

"Ka'Lir...Luke?" she asked, shy as she hadn't been in a long time, and Luke turned to her with a smile that didn't quite reach their eyes.

"Yes, Faala."

"I wanted to talk...about the woman I killed." she said, and Luke sighed.

"It's...alright, Faala. Brie wasn't the mother of the woman from my memory, the one you saw."

"But they looked the same, green eyes, red hair." Faal said, and then frowned. "Wait. Is this one of those situations where..."

"...Where you get us Humans mixed up because we all look the same, yes."

"I swear, you have the weirdest colors. And the hair? How can you even tell yourselves apart if you match like that?" she protested, and Luke actually chuckled, before holding their chest in pain. Faala cracked a small smile. "Well, at least you're laughing, teacher. It's a good sign."

"Yeah." Luke wheezed, and then sighed again. "I guess Sidious had a thing for using similar women against me. And it's incredible, really, how one brought me such pain and the other such joy." they added, putting their notebook away. "Brie...a name I'd hoped never to hear again."

"This Brie thought about her daughter before dying. Perhaps this Shira is...or well, is now the child version of the woman who hurt you." Faala said. "If she's alive, I mean."

"If she's alive, she deserves to grow and live out a normal life, a decent life, far away from the dark side and its madness." Luke said, looking to the suns, standing tall in the sky over Mos Pelgo. "If she's alive, we'll try to free her too like everyone else, and find her a good family."

"But what if she wasn't born yet? The Force didn't tell me that. Brie's thoughts didn't tell me that." Faala swallowed. "Luke, what if by accident I killed a child who wasn't born yet? A child who had no fault of her own?"

"Even if you did, it wouldn't make you a monster." Luke put a hand around her elbow, squeezing gently. "I came back and Owen died because of me. He sacrificed his life, and I couldn't save him. Does it hurt? Yes, it's normal. It means you're alive inside. But your mistakes don't dictate who you are."

"I...thanks." Faala sniffed, and sat against the edge of the roof with Luke, pressing into them for comfort. "I felt the dark side, Luke. It was like Zygerria, but concentrated into a single person. Cruelty for cruelty's sake. And I wanted to repay her with the same coin. So I felt it in me, and I felt soiled. I--I don't want to become like Ellan Brie, like Dooku. I just--I just hate this people, i hate for what they did and what they--" Faala hung her head, fists balled up tight. "Kitster saw me like that. I felt so ashamed."

Luke just held her for a moment, letting her breathe out her stress. Then they said: "Your shoto, Faala. Turn it on."

The girl seemed to snap out of a daze, and she gingerly took the short lightsaber off her belt and turned it on. The blade glowed a deep white, singing in the Force.

"A friend taught me that when you purify a blade from the dark side it turns white." Luke explained. "I was never able to do it with this shoto, even if it came out of my own anger and darkness. So...as a Jedi, you have already surpassed me, Faala."

Faala turned to them in shock. "But it's impossible. I mean, this is your lightsaber. And I know so little still!"

"And I've given you more training than I ever received from my teachers when they were alive." Luke chuckled, before turning serious. "I made this blade with a broken Sith crystal I had found in one of Sidious's artifact caches around the Galaxy. I made it to defeat Shira Brie, to destroy what she had become in mockery of me, of what we had been, and of my father. And...to avenge a fallen friend. I wanted to make her scream as much as you wanted to make her mother scream, for all she had done. I restrained myself in the end, and let her go...but you went one step further, and healed the anger I had created the blade with. If you ever want to call yourself a Jedi Knight...well, this is perhaps the most fitting achievement for you to have that title."

Faala looked at the blade, gently moving it in the air. For a moment, she frowned, deep in thought. And then...

"It's a bit short, though. I know you're the one who made it, but..." she said, serious as a tax collector...and then she and Luke cracked up and fell into a shared laugh. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Nah, don't apologize. We need all the humor we can get." Luke replied, standing up and craning their neck to look down into the courtyard of the hospital. A few palm trees gave shade to the patients out and about, while in the clearing at the center Boba and Hoar were meditating while a familiar yellow-skinned Dathomirian Zabrak meditated with Barriss. "I see Feral's come to visit." they remarked as Faala got up herself.

"Yeah, he says he wanted to take some time off from his family. He came as soon as he heard about the bombing, helped a bit with the cleanup."

"His family bother him?"

"Says Maul's still a bit intense. He'll probably give you a full report if you ask him."

"I might. Maul's reports aren't very encouraging, and the first ASRA congress is due next month."

"I know. With all that happened, I'm afraid we won't be very encouraging either."

"See if you can talk with Ventress then when you have time. She might put a bit of pressure on Dooku to hurry up with the next line of credit."

"Speaking of which...have you decided how are we gonna deal with him...and about him at the Congress?"

"Not yet. We should do a Committee meeting about it." Luke sighed, looking back at Faala. "I'm not so sure about a lot of things Faala, you know."

"Well...I could mail Ventress about it, too."

"It can wait, at least to this evening. We can all use the rest."

"Well, seems the two little warriors don't even need that." Faala remarked, watching Boba flip Hoar down into the ground right next to Barriss and Feral, spooking the Miralian. Feral just chuckled, but Faala could detect more than a hint of frustration from the other Jedi. "Think we should head down?"

"Sure. You up to give Barriss some unorthodox Jedi teaching?" Luke smiled at Faala, and Faala smirked.

"Oh, you bet." and without further ado, Faala jumped the whole three stories down into the courtyard, landing gracefully between Hoar and Boba. "Alright boys, time to take a rest."

"But I was winning." Hoar pouted, and Boba stuck out his tongue at him.

"Maybe, but our new friend is feeling a little left out." Faala remarked, looking staright at Barriss, who blushed.

"Who? Me?" the girl asked, flushing. "Oh no no no no, don't worry about me, I was having a nice time meditating with...with..." she side-eyed Feral, trying not to show any guilt on her face.

"Feral." they young man supplied, his tone genuine and helpful--even if Faala coud detect a trace of displeasure at having to remind her of his name.

"Feral, yes." Barriss repeated, and looked back at Faala. "I'm fine with meditating. I was just getting a bit distracted with all this fighting. It's..."

"It's?"

"I mean, do you all have to fight this much?" Barriss asked. "I thought you were Jedi apprentices, but wrestling..."

"I have to train." Boba said, standing tall. "The heir to the Mauler in the ring cannot possibly second best to anyone."

"...the what of the what in the what?"

"Boba gets his wrestling passion from his Uncle from Dathomir." chuckled Luke, walking into the courtyard with the rest of them, and Boba immediately ran towards them, hugging them by the waist.

"I thiught you were with Faala, aman." Boba spoke, and his voice had none of the proudness he'd displayed a moment before, Barriss noted. He spoke...he spoke like a child.

"Sorry kiddo, had to take the stairs. Be another week at least before I can get back to the acrobatics." Luke smiled ruefully, hugging Boba back and patting him on the head. "But I saw you training. You're getting really good, Boba."

"Thanks, aman." Boba squeezed them, and then detached, glancing back at Faala and Barriss. "So it's their turn now?"

"Well, it's up to Barriss to decide, of course." Luke said, and sat down on the ground with Boba. "You're not forced to, Knight Offee. You can enjoy some rest. You earned it, after what you did."

"I did the minimum." Barriss said, getting up. "And I suppose that if I want to live here, I should learn to fight as you do to help you defend this place when the next evildoers come."

"You mean the next agents of your Republic." Boba said, and Barriss twitched.

"The Republic I used to belong to." Barriss replied, and stepped up to Faala. "So...I suppose I'll fight you."

"Sure." Faala said. "Just go easy on me, you got a lifetime's worth of training more than me."

"Of course. So how does this all work?

"First one to incapacitate the other or make her surrender wins."

Barriss nodded, and unhooked her lightsaber from her belt. "Pretty standard stuff. Alright, let's get this over with--"

She couldn't finish her sentence that Faala shot at her. Right in the face. Barriss blurted out a curse, whipping out her lightsaber and deflecting the bolt to the ground, but Faala used the Force to push the dirt that was knocked back from the blast right into her eyes. Barriss turned off her lightsaber and brought her hands to her face...and found herself with the emitter of Faala's shoto pressed into her throat.

"Yield." was all Faala said, her face a neutral mask devoid of emotion. Barriss, instead, felt her shock morph into anger. She pressed her lips tight against each other into a thin line, her hands trembling...but she nodded all the same.

"I yield." she said, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in as Faala stepped back. She rubbed her throat, and shot a look at Skywalker. "This wasn't a duel, this was cheating. Is this really what you teach?"

"Well, you're the more trained Jedi of the two of us. What was I supposed to do, drag it out until we got hurt?" Faala anwered her. "I ended the fight quickly and without harm coming to either of us."

"And what have we learned? Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Luke interjected, and Barriss again turned toward them. "Remember when Faala put a shoto to your throat?"

"It was only five seconds ago, of course I remember it."

"And you're really sure you had lost in that moment?"

Barriss narrowed her eyes at them. "What do you mean?"

"A shoto has only half the blade of a lightsaber. If you'd pushed Faala away with the Force, she'd have activated her saber, but the blade wouldn't have managed to harm you due to its short length."

"That's..." Barriss paused, and frowned. "That's really sound advice." she said, and cocked her head at Skywalker. "I think I get it. The fight isn't necessarily lost or going in the opponent's favor even when it seems so."

"She's smart for the standards of you Je'tii." Boba smirked, and Barriss felt her hands twitch at the way he loaded that word. It seemed she would have to work extra hard to earn everybody's trust, or even acceptance.

"Let's try again." she said, and looked back at Faala. "I recognize the way of thinking I've been taught might be too narrow. I'll gladly learn whatever you can teach."

"Don't be shy yourself." Faala said, and dropped into a martial arts pose with a smirk. "I'll gladly watch whatever you wanna show me, girl."

Barriss blushed at her forwardness. Were there really no Jedi on this world who cared for properness and stoicness?

There is no emotion, she repeated in her mind, drawing on the Jedi Code so as not to let herself be perturbed. There is only peace.

She ran at Faala, deciding to strike first this time, deflecting her blaster bolts and going for a slash at her head, which the taller girl avoided by...limbo-dancing inside it, then snaking a leg around Barriss's foot and throwing her off-balance. Barriss fell backwards, and Faala pressed her advantage, using her momentum to push down on Barriss's chest with her free hand and push her down to the ground with the Force.

Had she done it in the traditional way, pushing Barriss away from herself, Barriss might have resisted. But instead, what Faala did was get right in Barriss's face, their noses inches from each other, her eyes taring unblinking at her and put her hand in the middle of Barriss's breast--making the Miralian girl blush in utter confusion--and imbue her whole arm with the Force, and use that to slam Barriss to the ground.

Barriss had only a moment to lose herself in Faala's eyes before her back made a dent in the ground, pain blooming all inside her. She cried out, but then grit her teeth and threw her weight against Faala, pushing her away. Faala counterattacked with her shoto, but Barriss fell back on her years of practice of Soresu, making use of the third form's counters to reverse the advantage and pursue her, making rapid attacks and taking advantage of the shorter reach of the Twi'Lek's shoto. Faala had to fall back, Barriss only growing more confident until she managed to knock the shoto out of the other girl's hand.

But Faala wasn't done. As Barriss turned her lightsaber towards her throat, she once again pushed into her guard, this time to aim her blaster into the Miralian's temple.

"You lose." Barriss said, breathing hard, but Faala smiled as she panted herself.

"I don't think so. I think it's a stalemate."

"Why?"

"You can't block the blaster bolt if you cut my head off. And you can't cut my head off because I'll pull the trigger in the time you do so." Faala explained. "But if I shoot you, and you block my blaster bolt, you lose your advantage, and I can get back my shoto and we're back to square one."

Barriss's hand tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber. Force, she was right.

"She's got you pinned." Skywalker mused from behind them. "So what can you do, in a stalmate?"

Barriss closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Slowly, she lowered her lightsaber and turned it off as Faala did the same with her blaster. "We can put down our weapons and stop fighting." she said, meeting the Twi'Lek's eyes.

Faala's smile became just a little bit tighter. "Great." she said, as Luke started clapping at the two of them.

"You were both really good!" they beamed, standing up. "You both thought outside the box, outside simply winning. And you got to know each other better."

"I suppose so." Barriss said, but she still looked glum. Luke's smile fell, and they tried opening their mouth to say something, but Feral beat them to it.

"Don't worry, few people can match Faala in a fight by now, so managing that was actually great." the young man said, standing up and lightly bumping Faala. "And really, you shouldn't beat yourself up about it. Everybody's got their specialties on the battlefield, and you--well, you're a medic, and that's really important."

"That's what everyone keeps saying."

"Well, that's what this place needs right now. My people need that too, and I want to learn more about it--think you can show me a few things?" Barriss's face seemed to brighten up at that, and Luke put their hands in their pockets, turning back to Faala.

"Well, success ain't linear after all." they said as they walked back into the warm, cool-lit corridors of the hospital with their apprentice.

"You think I was too intense?" Faala asked with a slight grimace, but Luke shrugged.

"I don't know, really. I have no idea who Barriss is, deep down."

"She helped us...but you said she was a spy."

"I mean, is she really that good at hiding it?"

"Point taken."

"You were your usual self and I wouldn't ask you to change that. Barriss just had a rigid upbringing, and she's suffered quite a few hard blows in quite a short amount of time. I think we should ease her into our way of doing things, allow her to make her own decisions. Best case scenario, both her and Ahsoka Tano end up choosing our side."

"Worst case scenario, she rats us out to the Jedi Council and the Republic comes knocking again...with Star Destroyers instead of mercenaries this time."

"I think it's unlikely. Both Ahsoka and Anakin are too stubborn and independent to follow Republic procedure, and I sense Barriss's link to the Council has been weakened."

"Maybe something happened with her teacher. We could investigate. Talk with Korian and ask our contacts about that."

"I'll do it." Luke eyed the end of the corridor, where Kitster was talking with a Beru who was in crutches, but thankfully up and walking. "You should have a bit of time for yourself before we worry about that, though."

"Wait, what do you--" Faala asked, but she got cut off by Kitster's greeting as the young man walked towards them.

"Hey, Faala." Kitster asked her, fidgeting with his repaired arm and blushing. "I was wondering if you...er, if you'd like to have lunch together."

Faala blushed herself, looking briefly at Luke, who shrugged with a smile. "Sure, why not." she smiled, and Kitster beamed.

"Great. We haven't had time to talk since the dust settled, and I just wanted to tell you that you were so cool--"

"Really, come on, I actually needed your help back there--"

"Yes but it doesn't change the fact that it was you that--"

Luke let their conversation trail away in their ears as the two youths walked off together, leaving the Jedi with Beru. "Hi." they told her with a small smile.

"Hi yourself." Beru replied, eyeing them as she leaned against the wall. "We ended up playing punching bags, huh?"

"I'm fine with that." Luke shrugged. "I can take more hits than most people."

"That doesn't mean you should rush into situations alone."

"I can dish it as well as I can take it. I'm not going anywhere, Beru. Not until all of us are safe."

"Will we ever be safe, Luke? Look what happened to Dormer, or Scott, or Hok'Tar, or all the other people who got hurt in this...they hate us out there. They're not going to stop until they destroy us or we destroy them." Beru said, and then eyed Luke with a far sterner gaze. "But you're used to this, aren't you? The way you react and act is almost an autopilot. This is your life, it has always been...and on a far bigger scale that you let on."

Luke shrank back, hands balling into fists in their pockets. "I'm trying to play it different this time, Beru. I want to create something new, something happy. I'm used to destroying, to losing everything. We all are here, and you know it shouldn't be like this."

"Sure. But are you really used to it? The way you attacked Travis to save me...I'm no Jedi, Luke, I don't have your gifts, but even I could feel what you were feeling in that moment." Beru said, and Luke shrank still. "I waved away Karla's doubts on it, but now I don't think she was that wrong to have them."

"Hang on, what--"

"Who am I to you, Luke Skywalker? And I want a real answer this time."

It was like Luke's face was a mirror that had just cracked. The Jedi's mouth cracked open, sounds struggling to come out, and then it went closed again, their hands going at their eyes and wiping away tears before they could fully form.

"Beru...I'm...really...There's no reason to..."

"Korian and A'Sharad know. I'm pretty sure of that. I've seen the way Korian looks at you. And the way Faala does, too. They know." Beru pressed, and Luke shook with a tears they couldn't spill.

"I can't right now, Beru. Really. But I promise I will tell you, as soon as we can make a trip. Ash, Kori, Faala, Kitster, Boba, everyone can come if you want, if it makes you feel safer about it." Luke said, finally regaining some composure, and Beru blinked. She did not expect that.

"A trip? And where to?"

"To Shmi's and Owen's grave." Luke said. "You're family to me, Beru Whitesun. It's just difficult to find the words to say how without sounding like a lunatic. But you're right that I should do right by you." they grasped Beru's hand, squeezing it tight. "And you're right that I've been on autopilot all my life, even ever since I came back here, but since I came back here I tried to think about things, to...focus my mind on what was in front of me. To be better. And this is the only real moment I've been forced to rest and think about things. So...if you wanna let me, and if you're alright with waiting a little while more, I'll tell you the truth."

Beru held their hand like she was trying to use it to weigh their words. But then, finally, they squeezed it back. "Alright, Luke. I'll wait. I wanna keep trusting you."

"Thank you."

"Korian and A'Sharad are in the next room. They wanna talk."

"I should talk to them, yes."

"Go. I'm not going anywhere." she said, and Luke smiled went sad like she had never seen.

"Alright." they said, softly, and walked into the room where A'Sharad and Korian waited for them. It was a small waiting room with a sofa, a couple chairs, a small bookcase and a kitchenette, and Luke found the two men sitting down holding hands as they walked in.

Ironically, Korian was the first to sense his presence and look at him. "Hey" the Togruta smiled, getting up. "We were waiting for you. Want some tea with blue milk?"

"Yes, please." Luke said, and sat down on a chair across from the sofa as Korian went to fetch the caf. It was then they noticed that A'Sharad didn't have their mask on.

"What?" the man asked him, training his brown eyes on Luke. He shifted slightly in his seat, as if he couldn't quite meet or sustain the other Jedi's gaze.

"You're beautiful." Luke said, smiling. "I love your tattoos."

"I'm not going to go around without my mask. The Jedi have seen me unmasked. I'd be recognized." A'Sharad replied, still shifting in his seat. "I took it off to tell you that...I'd like things to be like this between us, if you'd like that too."

"That also why you gave me your Krayt Dragon pearl necklace?"

"I took it from the stomach of a Krayt Dragon as a rite of passage, Luke. It doesn't get much more solemn than that, besides the mask thing."

"Ash." Luke bent down to touch the man's hand. "I like you. I care about you. I admired you from the moment we met, for what you've tried to do, for the man you strive to be. I didn't want to make the first move, not before I felt ready to tell you everything about me."

"What's more to know? You're from the future, you probably lost everything, and I was an ass about it."

Luke glanced at Korian, who sighed, abandoning his tea-making, and went to the watch the door.

"What?" A'Sharad frowned, looking between the two of them. "What do you have to tell me"

"Anakin Skywalker is my father in the future." Luke told him, and A'Sharad blanched.

"What?" A'Sharad asked, and Luke could feel a whirlwind of emotion in the Force from him, anger, outrage, denial; they tried to send calming waves to them, but it was like pouring water into a burning building by the cupful.

"He...he fell to the dark side just before my mother gave birth to me, helped Palpatine establish the Empire. I'm trying to prevent that--he doesn't deserve--"

"I could have prevented that!" A'Sharad snapped, getting up. "On Argonar, when we were serving together--that little fuck told me what he'd done to Hoar's village, told me he'd do it again! I saved him from the desert, I took off my face to try and make him come to his senses--you're telling me that he's the lynchpin for the dark side to take over the Galaxy! That I could have just left him there, or defended myself when he attacked me out of his blind hatred, and I would have saved the Galaxy?!"

"I wouldn't have been born and this war would still be raging, with Palpatine still manovrating everyone." Luke said, trying to keep their tone neutral. "Perhaps you'd have fallen to the dark side and Palpatine would have chosen you as his apprentice."

A'Sharad's hands balled into fists, and he looked away. "And you want to help him."

"I made him turn back to the light in my timeline, and he sacrificed himself to save me. It's earlier now. He hasn't killed so many people." Luke said, and took A'Sharad's hand with their flesh one. "Ash, please. I didn't choose to come to this time...but if you were in my place, wouldn't you try?"

A'Sharad looked back at them, all the anger gone from him, and far too many lines on his face for his age. "Luke...you'd force Hoar to share a family with his tribe's butcher."

"I've made Anakin redeem himself when he was a Dark Lord of the Sith, butcher of millions." Luke said. "Anakin will make amends."

"And you value your sense of justice that much. You'd save your father from fate itself, and yet you'd let a traumatized boy pass whatever judgement they feel worthy upon his head."

"Anakin is a traumatized boy himself. And I made mistakes and destroyed lives myself." Luke said themselves, getting up. "This is my second chance, Ash, and I got it by magic. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't fight for a world where everyone can have one by design."

A'Sharad gave a somber nod. "Very well." he sighed, and let himself fall back on the sofa. "Suns, Luke Skywalker, you're impossible."

Luke sat down themselves with a wounded look. "What do you mean?"

"A normal person would tear themselves apart trying to do what you're doing, trying to be kind to everybody who deserves it even in these kinds of situations." A'Sharad said. "And yet...you make it work. Even in the contradictions. And every time, you push it a little bit farther."

"You know it more than me that it's not our nature that makes people or groups cruel, but the conditions they experience. You change those conditions, the person will change."

"And again with the communist ideology." A'Sharad snorted. "But...yes. That's true. Hoar was much angrier before I met him. We were all much angrier before we started building something together. And it didn't take Jedi exercises to accomplish that. No. We had to do something crazier." A'sharad sighed again and let his head fall back on the headrest of the sofa. "This place, this hospital...Tatooine never had something like this. And on Coruscant you needed to be rich to afford a visit to one. And yet now here is it, as in every town and every city neighborhood of this planet, free for everyone, and children like Hoar and Boba, Tusken and alien, can play together in its courtyard with palms for shade." the Tusken Jedi craned their head back to Luke, his eyes sad. "You think I hate you, Luke Skywalker?"

Luke shrank back. "I know I'm difficult. And with the knowledge of who my father is..."

"I admire you, Luke. I wouldn't trade you with anything or anyone else. You made the impossible happen just by convincing enough people it was right. You're a freeborn that freed the slaves, goddammit, and when I showed you my father's crazy writings about bringing water and vegetation back to Tatooine, you thought of kids playing together in the shade and started experimenting with the Force just to see if it could be done." it was A'Sharad's turn to grab Luke by the hands, and this time he looked deep into Luke's eyes. "What you told me can't change that. I want to be with you, Luke. I want to see this all through."

"That's...I..." Luke blinked away tears. "I'd like that, Ash. I'd really like that." the older Jedi said, and looked at Korian. "I'd love to see this all through with the two of you."

Korian smiled softly. "Me too, Lucas." the Togruta said, and walked over to the sofa, gently brushing hair out of Luke's face. "Where would you be after all without your two favorite twinks?"

A'Sharad blushed furiously and hid his reddened face in his hands. "Suns, Maas. I try to be serious and heartfelt and you ruin it." he grumbled, and Korian just pulled both him and Luke together in a hug.

"Shut up, you. I'm just glad you're both still alive."

A'Sharad closed his eyes and smiled. "Well...I'm glad of that too."

"And me too." Luke said, smiling themself. "And I hope we can have some alone time without a crisi or revelations, for a bit."

Korian cringed. "Well, actually..."

 

-line break-

 

Barriss detached herself from the door. She'd been made, again. She should get out of there and run back to Ahsoka and--

"Barriss."

Barriss stumbled into a supplies cart, only finding her footing after knocking down half a dozen of batches of gauzes and sterilizants. "Force," she tried to feign surprise as she turned back to look at the frowning visage of Luke Skywalker, "Do you never make noise?"

Luke helped her get up and straighten out her outfit before looking dead in the eyes. "I have a bit more practice than you in spying someone without getting found out." they said, and Barriss took a step back.

"So you really know."

"Yes. But you helped Boba and Hoar as I trusted you to do. And you haven't touched your comlink since you came here."

"And how do you know that?"

"You think I'd have lived this long if I always gave my game away?"

"Fair." Barriss eyed them critically, looking over the bandages that they were covered in. "So now what are you going to do with me?"

"That's entirely up to you. Do you want to fight me, Barriss Offee? Do you think I am your enemy? Do you think our society is your enemy?"

"You took down Durge. You defeated Count Dooku. I'd be suicidal to fight you."

"And yet you were sizing me up. You know I'm injured pretty bad, that I haven't recovered...and you still doubt you've seen all I can do. You still think I'm hiding my strength."

"Aren't you?"

"The Force is my strength, and it is yours. We are equal in that, and the rest is a difference of creativity and will." Luke cocked their head, and Barriss felt the temperature in the corridor drop several degrees. "What were you doing with Faala, Knight Offee? Were you testing her to see what fighting style could I have, being her teacher?"

"I don't want to harm you." Barriss replied, guarded. She couldn't feel Skywalker's Force presence at all. "I would have a match with you. Just to see if you're an opponent like Faala, or like Boba."

"I'm one who's pointless to fight." Luke answered, and let pieces of machinery slide out of their sleeves, and among them a bright blue Kyber crystal. Barriss went white, her hand going to her belt---and finding nothing where her lightsaber shoudl have been.

"Wha--why--I didn't even feel you take it--"

"Yes, I'm from the future. Yes, Anakin Skywalker is my father. Yes, i know Ahsoka in the future, that's why I trust her and partly by extension you. Yes, Palpatine is a Sith. I could show you my memories, but I don't think you want that, do you?" Luke let the pieces of Barriss's lightsaber fly back into shape before handing it back to her. "If I thought you my enemy, if I'd thought you were a menace to neutralize, I could have killed you in a dozen ways without even using the Foce. But that's not what I'm here to do."

"Then what are you here to do?" Barris asked, and Luke flipped her a pin.

Barriss took it and inspected it. It bore a hammer and sickle in a five-pointed star. "What's the writing around the design, Barriss?"

Barriss gave it a read. "Socialism and Liberation." she frowned, looking back at you. "That's the name of your movement, isn't it?"

"It's the name of what the movement is, does, and aims to do. All of those things happen concurrently and consequently to each other. We free the people so that the fairer society of socialism can be established, and we establish socialism so the people can be free." Luke replied. "I'm sick of war, I'm sick of fighting, Barriss. So I'm here to fight for a society that's devoid of both, and in order to do that I don't just fight, but I help people build something that can prevent the many from ever be victims anymore for the profit of the few."

"You think I don't know that the alternative is unfair? We talked about it in another hospital, when you first told me about Huff Darklighter." Barris grasped the pin in her palm. "I never liked being in the frontlines, destroying things, seeing the clones be treated as cannon fodder. But shouldn't a Jedi be above this all? Shouldn't we let go of all negativity into the Force, and serve peace and justice while being impartial?"

"Can there be peace without justice?" Luke shrugged. "Look at the Republic. Slavery is illegal and yet people are exploited, droids are bought and sold like sentients are here in the Outer Rim, and clones are bought to be sacrificed for a pointless war where Palpatine and his capitalist cronies direct and finance both sides."

"But you go so far." Barriss said, her voice trembling. "For you, attachment is right, emotion is right, passivity is wrong, it's even wrong to call teachers 'Master'--" she covered her mouth. "Oh Force. Skywalker--Anakin Skywalker--is like you in all of that. But he's fighting for the Republic, and I'm instead here, and--"

"Calm down. Breathe." Luke laid a hand on her shoulder, and Barris breathed slower. "I'll ask again, Barriss: am I your enemy? Is our society, our movement, your enemy?"

"No." Barriss wiped away tears. "This is a hospital. This is where I want to be, and you all were ready to give me a job, to pay me to work in it, as soon as I landed on this planet, trusting me even while I was here to spy. You're not buying Clones or Droids, you're stopping people from being traded..." Barriss sniffed. "But Ahsoka is my friend. She's all I have left. I can't betray her."

"I trust Ahsoka. She's welcome here."

"That's going to be difficult."

"We can talk with her about it and figure it out." Luke said, squeezing her shoulder. "We don't have to be enemies."

Barriss snorted. "I'm not sure everyone agrees with you on that here. You know, I was supposed to work here, and I still haven't seen Dr. Darklighter again, since we regrouped into town. She's been avoiding me."

"Nah, she's probably passed out from all the work and for having to deal with our craziness." Luke chuckled, and nudged Barriss. "C'mon, I'll help you find her."

"Thank you." Barriss smiled as they walked off. "She's probably going to freak out..."

"And Ahsoka isn't?"

"Point taken." Barriss sighed, and shook her head. "This all feels crazy. Mere weeks ago I was just sitting down in my apartment, wondering why my Master had disappeared from the Force, and now everybody seems to be welcoming me."

"We could help you look for her. She'd be welcome her as much as you are."

"How would you do that?" Barriss asked, and Luke's smile came back sly.

"We have our contacts."

Notes:

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

The top of the Republica 500 apartment complex was a rather intricate system of cooling towers, equilibrium stabilizers, solar panels and backup generators. Such an imposing high-rise necessitated such infrastructure to function, but it gave the added benefit that it made for a convenient hiding spot for those who wished to stay hidden to conduct their business.
Such as Tasbin Calana, now known to Naboo society as Sabé, royal handmaiden of the former Queen and now Senator Padme Amidala, who was expecting a call on her secure channel any minute then.
What she did not expect was the person on the other side of the hologram.
"Hello." the weathered friendly face said in the hologram, sun-bleached greying hair framing only apparent unassuming blue eyes. "Been a while since we talked, Ms. Sabé."
"I didn't think I'd see the big fish again this soon." Sabé remarked. "You're looking pretty beaten up, Ka'Lir. Or should I call you Luke?"
"Whatever saves you time. That cooling tower you're sitting in doesn't seem very comfy, so i'd rather not keep you long."
"Still beats me you can manage the signal, or the brazenness to show your face like this."
"I trust Korian's encryptions like nobody else's."
Sabé frowned. "So what do you want? I've been having to do the biggest tricks of misdirection since you made me plant that note in Padme's apartment."
"I have an unusual favor to ask. I'd like you to help us look fro a missing Jedi." Skywalker replied. "It's a favor for a friend."

Chapter 15: The Senator's Shadow

Summary:

In which Padme finally realizes who put that note there...and the wider implications.

Notes:

I'm sorry for the couple days' delay. I drastically reworked this chapter mid-writing due to wishing to give Padmé a more active role in the story, seeing as she's been absent from the beginning. I hope you like it! :)

Chapter 15: The Senator's Shadow

 

Mandalore, 21 BBY, the capital city of Sundari.

 

Soft light shone through the protective dome of Sundari, illuminating crowded spires and skyscrapers of concrete and steel. But it wasn't shaping to be a good morning, according to the foremost ruler of Mandalore, Duchess Satine Kryze.

The Mandalorian Government Council had long been used to meeting in a grand hall in the Sundari Royal Palace, but wartime had brought many changes--not the least of which was the conversion of the meeting hall into a housing project and soup kitchen for the unhoused, and the choice of a modest office room for cabinet meetings. Not everyone had taken to those changes happily, however, on either side of the fence. When Sabine passed through the dormitory, she found two guardsmen manhandling a middle-aged woman...while a great black graffiti defaced one of the walls.

"What's going on here?" she asked, and one of the guardsmen turned to her with a scowl.

"These people seem to be ungrateful about your hospitality, Your Majesty." he explained. "However, we've been unable to extract the name of the vandal. The people here seem to be covering for them."

Sabine looked over the graffiti: it had been crydely written with a pen, in wide, slashing strokes, clearly out of a burst of anger, and it read in old Mandalorian dialect: How long can it go on like this?

Sabine sighed, and grabbed a chair, gesturing for the guards to let the woman go. The woman sat on the bed, while Sabine sat herself in the chair, right in front of her to be at eye level, with all the other unhoused crowding around in apprehension.

"Why don't you want to tell them who wrote that thing?" Sabine asked, and the woman shrugged.

"I don't know who did it. And even if I did, I'd never blame them for wanting to let out their anger."

Sabine looked over the assembled group. The eyes of all those people, young and old in equal measure, seemed to dart back and forth between her and the guardsmen. Nobody was armed, sure, but the guardsmen stood around Sabine with distrust and readiness to react etched in their figures. "You feel we aren't doing enough for you?" she asked then to the woman. She rubbed her hands for a moment, hard, calloused hands with a lot of old scars and burns covering them.

"You're giving us a roof over our head and food, Your Majesty. But I used to be a plant worker for MandalMotors, I fixed components. Until the royal company fired me and a hundred people like me because they said they couldn't justify paying us and make deficit if they couldn't sell our products. And then the housing authority kicked me out because I couldn't find another job." the woman looked over the beat faces of the people who had formed a protective semicircle around her. "I figure there's a lot of people in here who share this story."

"How is that possible?" Sabine frowned. "The liberalization decree from last year allowed for even easier creation of independent businesses. I realize that maybe going from a factory to a shop or service providing isn't the straightest parh, but the number of job opportunities has undeniably gone up."

"Then perhaps you haven't heard about the pittance those 'job opportunities' pay us. It's almost like a privilege if they let us working for them." grumbled a youth, with the woman nodding.

"Or the ever-growing line of people desperate to work for them, fighting over that laughable pay." the woman said. "We're glad you took us in, Your Majesty, but we can't live on charity alone, and without a proper job we can't go back to a proper home."

Sabine's fists tightened on her knees. Walls could be cleaned from graffiti, yes. But she'd have to have sharp words with her government over that.

 

-line break-

 

And it proved to be harder rhatn she'd thought.

"So," she spoke, setting down the holopad and looking at each of her ministers, "I see my ideas aren't being well-received."

Prime Minister Almec was the first to flinch. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, we can't exactly ask businesses to push prices down without concessions. They're lamenting the risk of bankruptcy."

Sabine raised her pad with a look of disbelief. "And these would be your 'concessions'? A wage freeze coupled with deregulation of the labor market? I assure you, Prime Minister Almec, that if this is your solution, we will have to find even smaller rooms to meet in--for your proposal will put thousands more people on the streets."

"Our economy needs to be competitive, Your Majesty," the Finance Minister, Oleg, piped up, "And that means being able to find new markets capable of accepting our products and ensuring profitability for the sake our economy."

"You mean for the sake of your wallets." Sabine snarked. "I will not accept cutting wages and benefits to safeguard profit margins, or worse yet, to invite foreign capital on our soil."

"Your Majesty, it's a regrettable course of actions. But we need to offer incentives in investment to help diversify our economy in these dire times." said Olmec. "MandalMotors alone cannot feed our children now that the Republic refuses to buy our products and sell us primary goods in return."

"We already have a willing trading partner capable of securing these objectives, without embroiling ourselves with the Republic and submitting to the demands of their businesses."

"The terms of the Rebel Alliance are much more acceptable, yes." said Deputy Prime Minister Jerec. "But if we accept their course, slashing dividends to secure jobs and wages, we'd have to face another problem. Many of the loyalist warrior houses accepted our pacifist visions only with economic concessions such as being made shareholders of state enterprises...the absence of dividends might tip their loyalties back to Death Watch or the True Mandalorians, and with the negotiating table for the peace process only recently opened, it would be unwise to hand over such wild cards to our opponents."

"Yet those factions look with favor to the Rebel Alliance, or at least its communist leadership." Sabine replied with a smile that, though polite, was meant to be sharp like razors. "Do I need to remind you all that even though they have saved my life for Death Watch, the Darksaber is in the hands of one of their numbers, who is the heir to Jango Fett's leadership of the True Mandalorians?"

"You would wager gaining their support in exchange for those of our traditional supporters?" Almec scoffed. "It would place us even more at risk, send us straight into the orbit of the communists, and who knows what then--they're democrats. They might let the True Mandalorians do away with noble houses altogether, like that old fool Jaster Mereel wanted."

"I have reason I can push all parties to the negotiating table, into an agreement that is favorable both to our people and our State." Satine smoothed out a smile. "Can we all agree on a moratorium on new liberalization and a price freeze for the new semester, conditioned on the negotiating of a fair deal of trade with both the Council of Neutral Systems and the Rebel Alliance?"

Jerec frowned. "It would be best, yes. But the Rebel Alliance has invited us to send an observer delegation to their first Congress. How would the Council take that?"

"The Rebel Alliance is formally neutral in the Clone War. And if we can exert a pacifist influence limiting its violent and revolutionary tendencies while advancing the same progressive causes, we would smooth out a lot of problems, even for the Republic."

Almec sighed. "You're right, Your Majesty. Diplomacy still has to fail us. Very well. We are in your hands."

Sabine just hoped that the time that she had would serve her well.

 

-line break-

 

Coruscant, 21 BBY

 

Indeed, Satine had gone to Coruscant wishing to play the forces of the republic and those of the Rebel Alliance off each other. What she did not expect was to find herself secretly having caf with both of them at Dex's Diner...at the same time.

She had covered her face in embarassment as soon as she'd seen Padme, wearing a ridiculous purple wig, approach her table at the same time as the tall, lanky Duros spacer who had spent far too many minutes hugging Dexter Jettser as they were good friends. They had sat down at the same time, on opposite sides of the three-side booth, and as Padme's eyes had darted in apprehension to the old spacer, the Duros had smirked over her own caf mug with all the smugness of a winning Sabbacc player.

"I gotta admit, I'd never thought that Senators of the Galactic Republic would conduct their backroom dealings in a greasy spoons, of all places." Sanni Charit said, and Satine sank her face into her hands as Padme flushed only for a second before replying.

"Senator?" she said, putting on an airy accent as she set her own mug down, "Really, I wish, I'm just here to interview the..."

"Please. You can't bullshit a bullshitter..." Sanni's smile grew smaller, and more coy, "...Miss Naberrie."

Sabine watched a crack appear on the side of Padme's mug, so tight the younger woman was holding it. "I think I recognize you too, you know?" Padme spoke with poised ice in her voice. "You were in the holo that leaked after the IGBC scandal. I don't know your name, but I'd keep that name out of your mouth. I could have the planetary guard in this very moment and have you arrested."

"Arresting a government minister of a sovereign world is a declaration of war, last I checked, Senator Amidala." Sanni replied. "Would you really wanna go to war with Tatooine and its friends? We've been nothing but warm to you, last I checked."

Padme leant into the table, her whispers twisted into seething anger: "Really? Must I take for warmth a patented scare tactic? An obvious move to let me know you can get to me?"

"You're fond of misunderstandings, ain'tcha?" Sanni tsk'd. "And here was I, hopin' we could have a productive meeting."

"You arrived early. Too early." seethed Satine, taking her hands off her face, and the Duros chuckled.

"Duchess, we got the utmost respect for your planet and your pursuing of its interests. We don't mind if you deal with both us and Republican hardcore loyalists. But the Senator has never responded to our first approach, and really, ain't that just plain darn rude?" Sanni took a sip from her mug, and then poured alcohol from a personal flask in the rest of the caf. "So, knowing you were meeting with the Senator, I decided to come here a hour early, see if we could meet all three of us together and have a more productive chat."

"So what the Jedi reported is true ." Padme eyed Satine, who was now hiding behind a mug of tea. "You're dealing with the Rebels."

"They want to buy MandalMotors machinery and vehicles." Satine shrugged, nodding from Padme to Sanni as she sat between them with all the enjoyement of someone who'd walked out of a matinee showing of a Givin holodrama. "I need to feed my people, and with the game of sanctions that the Senate and the Separatist Parliament have been playing since the start of the war, it's getting increasingly difficult."

"And we ourselves would love to import from Naboo, too." Sanni leant forward on the table to look at Padme, her big, red eyes narrowing over the smaller Human. "Mostly knowledge in agriculture, technology, and the sciences. We are a developing world, after all, and while we may be rich in raw materials, we're still figuring out how to put our resources to the best uses of our community..."

"Maybe you should import some democracy while you're at it, too." Padme spat. "From the looks of it your community is ran by military thugs, thieves, and smugglers."

"Yeah. We're all that. I used to be a spice runner. I smuggled death in powder and in weapons, forced into this trade by Jabba the Hutt as punishment for piracy." Sanni's smile disappeared, and Padme flinched back as the Duros's tone grew cold and she straightened her back to stand tall in the Human's face. "I ain't gonna deny my crimes. But I'm making amends, serving a government of farmers and freed slaves making the interests of their own class, too, and I ain't gonna take any slight to my friends an' comrades lightly, Senator."

"And with what methods? The word that comes from the Outer Rim doesn't paint you in such angelic light, Minister."

"Ah yes, I'd love to have lessons in democracy from the rich Core world with the elected monarchy and the aptitude tests for voting." Sanni snarked. "When we were shooting up slavers on Tatooine and digging out tracking chips out of people your oh-so-democratic government forcibly dispersed migrant workers protesting against the disparity of treatment between them and Naboo citizens, and from what I hear the situation has far from improved in the last year or so."

"And your idea of democracy is what? An eye for an eye? Your propaganda might spread, but rumors spread even faster, and nothing has been spreading faster than rumors about your visit to Zygerria, for example."

At that, the air at the table went cold. Satine looked from Padme to Sanni, silently hoping violence wouldn't break out, but both women kept their hands firmly on the table. But as Padme's hands were balled into fists and trembled with anger, an eerie stillness permeated Sanni Charit. "Slaves have all the right to decide what is to be done with the slavers." the Duros spoke slowly, deliberately, looking at Padme with the intensity of a cold sun. "I would never get in the way of someone who's suffered far worse than me and seeks justice for that. I didn't do it on Tatooine, I didn't do it on Kessel, and I didn't do it on Zygerria. I hope to never find you doing it, Senator Amidala."

Padme clenched her fists, simmering down. "Is that a threat?"

"No. It's simply a wish. My comrade's got so much respect for you, Senator, like you wouldn't believe. It would mean heartbreak for them to see you on the opposing side." Sanni replied. "Are you really going to waste tears on the Zygerrian Slave Empire, Senator?"

"The Zygerrian Slave Empire was dead. The Republic and the Jedi, democracy, forced it to stop."

"Is that what you tell yourselves?" Sanni laughed. "I've traveled the Outer Rim far and wide, and I can assure you, there ain't a world where people live that don't hear in their nightmares the sound of their ships coming down to abduct their parents, siblings, children, with politicians taking bribes to keep it quiet, like Ryloth's Orn Free Taa." her laughter settled into a dry smile, teeth bared in grim, tired enjoyement. "But no more generations will hear those sounds from now on. It took a republic, a democracy, and a Jedi this time too, yes, but not like your own, no."

"Well then, what made them different?" Padme asked, but this time, even as she seemed ready to launch herself into another statement, Sanni Charit relaxed, and sat up with a tired smirk.

"You can ask that to your friend the Duchess, she's met them." she said, getting out of her seat and nodding to Satine. "And I'm sorry for today. We'll meet again to negotiate."

"We will." Satine said, tired herself, but gave a firm nod to Sanni. "We will."

Padme whispered at her in disbelief: "You're just letting her go like this?"

"Why not? Sure, I've been a criminal. But now I ain't that anymore." Sanni's smile grew wide and cocky, and she stood up straight once again, her shoulders wide. "Now I'm something I can be proud of."

"And what's that?" Padme asked, pressing on the older woman even as she was on her way out.

"A communist." Sanni Charit smiled, and walked away. Satine watched her walk out of the diner without a care in the world, her alcohol-filled caf mug left behind on their table, and then she watched Padme veritably deflate, the tension and breath she'd been holding in leaving her body as she let herself sink into the seat behind her.

"I can't believe it." she said, staring at the table. "You're really dealing with them."

"Like I said, I have to feed my people and they want to buy from MandalMotors." Satine finished her tea. "And you could've been nicer."

"Nicer." Padme drawled, mimicking the accent of the old Duros spacer. "They've declared themselves our enemy, Satine. That's why it boggles my mind to see you dealing with them."

"This is an imperialist war, Padme, driven by business interests wishing to establish domination on our economies and soils through force and blackmail. The only ones profiting from it are the arm companies and the banks lending money at high interests to both sides as they kill each other. I mean, the IGBC on one side and the Trade Federation on the other?" Satine said. "I've seen enough strife and fighting in my life to be willing to risk my people in this game. I built a society on its refusal, I've had to fight a civil war for it."

"I know." Padme said, and admitted: "I took up arms against the Trade Federation ten years ago thinking of that. You were an inspiration, because it was all happening while I grew up."

Satine made a bitter smile. "I remember the whole Republic calling us an inspiration back then. But it seems now that the only ones willing to suppory us for sticking to our principles and values are those it brands as criminals."

"Sanctions won't last forever, Satine. Things can change."

"And you really believe you'll make Chancellor Palpatine see reason?"

"He has to see that the Republic isn't him, and that his way of doing things has brought both him and all of us to exhaustion. One man can't decide everybody's fate and be always right for long. We need reconciliation and cooperation to end this conflict, not further warfare." Padme said, and put a hand on Satine's shoulder. "But to do that we have to show the Senate and the Galaxy that we all want that. We can't do it without you or the Council of Neutral Systems, Satine."

"So that's where I come in." Satine smirked. "You want me in your party, Senator Amidala."

Padme's face twisted in displeasure. "Formal political parties aren't a thing of Naboo. I don't want to divide anything or anybody. Even the Core Faction and the Rim Faction here, in the Senate, they're useless partisanship and politicking. What I'm talking about is a unitary platform."

"Sure. Count me in." Satine took Sanni's discarded mug and took a swing of it. Her throat and mouth burned and stinged for a moment before she felt the sweet taste of an unknown fruit wash over everything, and she wondered how Sanni Charit could always seem sober if this wat they drank on Tatooine with their caf. She'd tasted traditional Mandalorian drinks, but those were harsher, and far more bitter than this. She thought of asking Sanni or Ka'Lir about it, the next time they saw each other, and took another, smaller swing. "You know," she coughed, turning to Padme with a smirk, "Maybe I'll form some political parties on Mandalore."

Padme waved her off. "Come on, you're not funny. What would you need them for? You don't even have a legislature." she said, and took a swing of Sanni's alcohol herslelf.

"Yeah, but I've had enough political intrigue to last me a lifetime. Better to pull it all out in the open, make it all legal, documented and regimented, and le...t the people express themselves against it." Padme coughed at that, shaking her head.

"Can't believe I heard you say something...something like that."

"By the way, why the disguise? Don't you have Handmaidens from that?"

"All the best ones are busy."

"Even Sabé?"

"Yes, even her." Padmé said. "This war has stuck me in an office and in a Chamber with people I should respect as fellow representatives of of the Galaxy, but who I keep loathing more and more. I shouldn't love fighting, I'd be a hypocrite, but..."

"But?"

"Sometimes I feel like I could have changed more with a well-placed blaster bolt in Geonosis than with a year of politics. All this officialdom and procedure seems designed to drown every genuinely open action, and so it leaves us going behind each other's backs."

"Well, but for a good cause if you're talking about the Chancellor."

"And it still makes me feel horrible. I'd trade it all away to be anyone else, to be away from this ossified, bureaucratized nonsense." Padmé drank again. "At least, doing it this way, in such a place, I can pretend it's not Padmé Amidala doing it." Padmé said, and then a sudden thought struck her. "Padmé Amidala did it."

Satine frowned. "What?" she asked, but Padmé jumped out of her seat and waved her off.

"I gotta go! Sorry, we'll talk another time."

Satine watched her run out of the diner and scowled, going back to her drink. Stars, it really wasn't her day.

 

-line break

 

Republica 500 apartment complex

 

Padmé burst into her apartment with a hangover, a headache and almost no breath anymore, but as soon as she saw her closest aides, Guard Captain Gregor Typho and handmaiden-bodyguard Dormé, still hunched over the security recordings of her quarters, she made a beeline for them.

"No luck, I take." she greeted them, briskly walking to their desk, and they both shook their heads.

"There's little we can go over still, my Lady." Typho commented. "We see it plain as day, the security footage shows us no intruders or unknown persons in your apartments."

And indeed, so it was: a whole month of Padmé going in and out of her apartment, changing outfits for her different appointments and functions, staff coming in, cleaning, checking things, fixing things, visitors, friends, all accounted for, and none who could have had access to something like her private drawers had come close to them. Only her.

Only her, yes. And that was where the problem lied. "Dormé, replay the footage from two days before the IGBC scandal." she ordered, and the young handmaiden frowned, unsure.

"Ma'am, are you sure? We were just watching it. It's just you going back to your apartment to check on some notes" she asked, but Padmé gave her a firm nod.

"I'm sure." she said, observing the small figurine walking into her apartment like she owned the place. "I don't ever remember going back there. I usually have my notes memorized."

"Maybe, ma'am, but that's just you. I mean, look at her." the image was small, but Padmé could tell all the differences. She knew it like her own face, for it had once been her own face. "Or...maybe we're looking at a shapeshifter?"

"No. A shapeshifter would have made a perfect duplicate. But this isn't one. Look more closely at the shape of the chin...and doesn't she look slightly taller to you?" Padmé pointed out, and Typho blinked his one eye in confusion.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but it's just...uncanny, in so few pixels." Typho said, turning to Padmé. "But this means..."

"It means our task has just become far easier." Padmé said. "Because there's only one person in the entire Galaxy who can pull this off."  

 

-line break-

 

The underlevels of Coruscant

 

Two cloaked figures met in a dimly-lit, trash-filled alley, taking refuge  by a wall-side radiator spewing vapor from the closest building's cooling system, and as they came near to each other, they pulled back their hoods just enough to reveal the furry scowls of two Zygerrian visages.

"Must we really always meet in places like this?" asked the shorter one, with the taller one waving him off.

"Patience, Birin. You keep doing your job, and we'll have our palaces back."

"You say that with far too much certainty, D'nar. I've lost count of the Senatorial offices we visited in the last month...and yet I can still count those who were willing to listen to us on the fingers of one hand."

"Is Taa asking for more money?"

"Well, you can't blame the Tail-Head for not liking how it will make him look. However--" Birin stopped mid-sentence, wheezing as if he'd got his breath driven out of him. D'nar blinked, and stepped towards him, grabbing hold of his cloak to shake him out of his stupor, but as soon as he did so, Birin coughed blood and fell forward against him with a dagger in his back. Another cloaked figure stepped out from behind the dead Zygerrian, pointing a pistol straight to D'nar's face.

"S-Senator Amidala?" the slaver said, flabbergastered, but thefigure only gave a hollow laugh.

"No." she said, and D'nar reached for his weapon. But as he did, he felt another body slam into his back from behind, and a sharp shock drive through the base of his head. He tried to cry out, but his throat was closed up; he tried to speak, but his lips and teeth met the tip of a dagger's blade; he tried to move, to wrestle himself away, but the dagger had been buried up to the hilt in the lower part of his brain where the motor functions resided; and finally, Darts D'nar, slaver, was dead.

Long-fingered gloved hands accompanied his body down to the ground, and a Rodian face looked up to a Human one from under the two assassin's hoods. "Do we have to leave the dagger in their bodies?" the Rodian asked, and the Human nodded.

"Yes, Wald. It will keep the blod in the body. Our contact will be here soon enough, and she will take care of them."

"You know, weirdly, this is the part of the job that brings back the most memories." a gravelly voice snarked behind them, and the two turned to see the smiling visage of Sanni Charit. "Sabé, Wald. How's life?"

"Well, this is about as satisfying as campaigning on Karlinus, I gotta say." Wald smiled as he got up. "And I reckon you're my ride back, Commissar."

"That's right." Sanni nodded. "I got a small hovertransport parked right back, we'll put these two in there, we'll get back to the ship and probably dump their body into space."

"Hopefully into a black hole."

"You can never be too cautious, eh, Sabé?" Sanni smirked at the Human woman. "You know, I saw your friend, today. The Senator is as fiery and yet at the same time as stuck-up as they describe her."

"Padmé is just principled." Sabé, former Handmaiden and bodyguard of Padmé Amidala from her tenure as Queen of Naboo, stood back, arms crossed and looking at Sanni from under her hood. "You realize that meeting like this is risky, right?"

"I'm a born smuggler. Risk is in the business." Sanni fished in her pocket and handed Wald a small piece of paper. "Here, Wald. This is the latest from Kitster. I need to give Sabé a private message, you can wait at the transport and read up while we talk."

"Thank you." Wald accepted the letter gingerly, as a prospector would handle a gemstone, and opened his mouth to reply, but found his throat dry. "I hope he's back on his feet soon." he said, clearing his throat to keep his composure.

"The kid is some tough son of a bitch. You could run a herd of Bantha, he'd still get up and bite your face off." Sanni said, and clapped Wald on the shoulder. "You'll meet him again at the Congress pretty soon."

"Thanks." Wald nodded, and Sanni let him go with a smile before turning to Sabé.

"So." the woman asked. "Is it from Korian? More Zygerria fallout I have to take care of with another of your understudies?"

"Not quite." Sanni said, and took out a holocomm, activating it.

"Hello." the weathered friendly face said in the hologram, sun-bleached greying hair framing only apparent unassuming blue eyes. "Been a while since we talked, Comrade Sabé."

"I didn't think I'd see the big fish again this soon." Sabé remarked. "You're looking pretty beaten up, Comrade Ka'Lir. Or should I call you Luke?"

"Whatever saves you time. I hope things with Wald and Sanni are alright."

"I mean, by how she greets me, she could use a vacation." Sanni drawled, and Sabé shook her head with a wry smile

"It seems that the only way you guys ever take one is by almost getting killed and getting put in the hospital, so I think I'll pass. Still beats me you can manage the signal, or the brazenness to show your face like this, by the way."

"I trust Korian's encryptions like nobody else's."

Sabé nodded. "So what do you want? I'm supposed to be here just to visit Padmé, this espionage detours can make me late. And you choosing to call at this time can put me at a higher risk than expected."

"Or it can put you in an excellent strategic position, for I have an unusual favor to ask. I'd like you to help us look for a missing Jedi." Skywalker replied. "It's a favor for a friend."

"Don't you have your own networks of investigation in the Outer Rim?"

"I do. But this hits closer to your home, too. You recall that Luminara Unduli served as Jedi Advisor to Chancellor Palpatine with Kit Fisto and Anakin Skywalker. Like the Loyalist Committee and the War Council Senator Amidala belongs to, they were supposed to act as a 'voice of reason' to Palpatine. But now her former Padawan, Barriss Offee, has defected to us and posited that Unduli has disappeared, as her whereabouts were unknown in the Jedi Order when she left. And Palpatine's other two Jedi Advisors are both on missions..."

Sabé frowned. "You think the Chancellor is behind this?"

"I don't know. What I know is that we have found Republic credits financing terrorists on our world just as Barriss defected to us, and she was almost killed in the crossfire while helping out our people. You'll forgive me if I want to hear her out and find out what is wrong."

"Terrorists? I thought you'd solved every problem back there."

"It's not funny, Sabé. They bombed his square, you know." Sabé felt her stomach turn itself into knots at those words. She wanted to ask more, but she had too limited a time.

"And how should I spin it with Padme?"

"You could always tell her the truth."

Sabé pursued her lips and tried to clamp down on the sensations she was experiencing. Yeah, that would not be an easy conversation.

"I'll look into this, Skywalker. I'll contact you back."

"Good luck, Comrade Sabé."

Good luck, Comrade Ka'Lir, thought Sabé, even if she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

 

- line break-

 

For Sabé, the trek back to Padmé's apartment was long, but it gave Sabé time to think, formulate a plan. She had no information on what Padmé was doing, so she was at a disadvantage. But she knew that Padmé was a smart woman, and that every day that passed brought her closer to realizing the truth.

And Padmé was her closest friend, she had been so since they were young teens. She had seen her grow tired and weary since the war had started, her only solace the secret moments she was afforded with her Anakin. Luke Skywalker had assured her that they could give her friend a way out, and she'd done nothing more than pass the message along. Skywalker hadn't asked her to spy on Padmé, not even this last time: but she wondered how long she could keep up this 'benevolent duplicitousness' before Padmé found out...

The answer, it turned ut to be, not very much. For when she went to knock at Padmé's door, she found her sitting down on the wide sofa overlooking the entrance from the main room, Typho and Dormé at her side, and both with blasters slung at their side.

"I really hope you've got an explaination, Sabé." Padmé asked, dark circles lining focused brown eyes she'd never seen so cold and so hurt at the same time. "Because the situation hardly makes sense."

Sabé tensed, and saw Padmé mirror her gesture; so she dropped her shoulders, and sighed: "Alright. If that's how it's gonna be."

Notes:

There! I'm borrowing in broad strokes from The Clone Wars, as you can see--the Zygerrian Arc takes place a whole year after the Mandalorian black market conspiracy, in the show, and necessitated Dooku allying with the Zygerrian slavers. Due to Dooku's change of heart, this hasn't happened here, but something else HAS happened...and as you can see, there are characters determined to uncover WHAT.
I hope it's gotten you curious enough to know what happens next! For anything, leave a comment and I'll be happy to talk with you. Till next time!

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

Sabé reached into her pocket, and threw a pin at Padmé. "Here. It should explain everything, no?"
Padmé caught the pin. It was a five-pointed star with a hammer and sickle in the middle, with the words Socialism & Liberation etched into it. "It really doesn't." she said, frowning. "It tells me nothing except you are affiliated with a terrorist group."
Sabé snorted, and sat down in the sofa opposite to Padmé. "Terrorists. Yeah, that's the word, isn't it?" she said, sighing as she leant back in the sofa and looked Padmé dead in the eyes. "You remember Tonra, right? Captain Panaka's old trainee." she asked, and Padmé's gaze softened.
"Of course I do."
"You sent us on missions to Tatooine, embedded into the population, to free slaves. At first you were looking for Shmi Skywalker, and then after she died you kept us doing that because, hey, Republic taxpayer dollars might as well be used for something decent in the middle of this war."
"Why are you telling me what I already know, Sabé?"
"Because now I'm going to tell you what you don't know, Padmé."
"And what's that?"
"What happened next."

Chapter 16: Memories of Tonra marketplace

Summary:

After being found out by Padmé, Sabé decides to follow Luke's advice and come clean to her friend with the full story of her involvement with the Rebel Alliance. But how will Padmé take her revelations?

Sabé reached into her pocket, and threw a pin at Padmé. "Here. It should explain everything, no?"

Padmé caught the pin. It was a five-pointed star with a hammer and sickle in the middle, with the words Socialism & Liberation etched into it. "It really doesn't." she said, frowning. "It tells me nothing except you are affiliated with a terrorist group."

Sabé snorted, and sat down in the sofa opposite to Padmé. "Terrorists. Yeah, that's the word, isn't it?" she said, sighing as she leant back in the sofa and looked Padmé dead in the eyes. "You remember Tonra, right? Captain Panaka's old trainee." she asked, and Padmé's gaze softened.

"Of course I do."

"You sent us on missions to Tatooine, embedded into the population, to free slaves. At first you were looking for Shmi Skywalker, and then after she died you kept us doing that because, hey, Republic taxpayer dollars might as well be used for something decent in the middle of this war."

"Why are you telling me what I already know, Sabé?"

"Because now I'm going to tell you what you don't know, Padmé."

"And what's that?"

"What happened next."

 

-line break-

 

The call from Tatooine had come unexpectedly. Sabé had been off-world for a month to visit the freed people that she and Tonra had helped relocate to Karlinus over the years, and had had no diea of the developments that had happened and that Tonra wanted to convey only in person. Tonra had been too deep embedded for Sabé to warn Padmé or take a line transport, so Sabé hopped into her personal ship and flew all the way to Tatooine with a bad feeling about it all.

Such bad feeling morphed into confusion and amazement when she arrived at the coordinates Tonra had sent her. A sprawling moisture farm with rows upon rows of vaporators and various cultivation domes and boreholes met her as she landed.

And as she got off the ship Tonra was the first to come to her...followed by an unfamiliar blonde Human that looed like he older, shorter copy of Anakin Skywalker, dressed into what looked like blue-and-brown combat gear under a brown cloak, with a red scarf around their neck.

"Hello there." Sabé said cautiously as the two approached, shooting a look at Tonra to suss out what was going on. Tonra's chiseled good looks twitched into a mix of embarassment and apology.

"A lot of things happened here on Tatooine since you left, Sabé." Tonra said, addressing her by her Tatooine alias before turning to the smaller Human. "Ka'Lir, this is..."

"Tsabin Calana, also known as Sabé, royal handmaiden of Naboo, aide, double and bodyguard to Queen Amidala, your flight partner as Hazard One during the Mid Rim Cooperation motion. I know all of that already...Tonra. By the way 'Arton Dakellen' would be one of the worst aliases I've ever heard, if I hadn't used worse in the past." the Human listed, their voice cordial as their blue eyes seemed to peel under Sabé's flesh to peek into her soul. She saw Tonra go rigid at the Human--Ka'Lir?--speaking that way, and she herself let her hand inch toward her blaster. The Human only shook their hand. "Please, Miss Sabé. It would be useless."

Sabé took a deep breath. "Why?" she asked, and the Human pushed their cloak behind their hip to show that not only they had a blaster themself...but also a lightsaber. "Ah. You're a Jedi, then?"

"I serve no Order. Only the people of this planet. And don't worry, I'm not mad towards your sometimes boyfriend." the Jedi said, and extended their hand to Sabé, who only looked at Tonra in confusion, frustration, and only a little fear.

"Care to explain what's going on, Tonra?"

The former prodigy of Naboo's Royal Security Forces gave an embarassed shrug. "I admit, I didn't expect our cover would be blown like this. But it's all right, Sabé, we're among friends here." he said. "This is Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al. They killed Jabba the Hutt and are one of the two people that have been leading a rebellion against slavery on Tatooine for the past weeks."

"As for how I know all that stuff, well. Like your employer's husband Anakin, I'm a relative of Shmi Skywalker." Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al said with a smile, and Tonra's jaw dropped as he turned back to look at Sabé.

"What?!" he whispered in disbelief. "The Senator married Anakin? But he was nine when they met!" he exclaimed, and Sabé saw Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al do the most Human thing yet since she'd first seen them: she saw them cringe.

"Moving on..." Ka'Lir cleared their throat. "You can call me Luke Skywalker, Miss Sabé. I apologize if I startled you, but I do not like deception, even if I would like you not to relay my existence, or anything you will witness here, to Anakin or Senator Amidala. At least until we're all out of the clear."

Sabé crossed her arms. "And why, pray tell, should I grant you that request, Master Jedi?"

The shade of blue of Luke Skywalker's eyes turned from sky to ice. "Nobody's anybody's Master here, Miss Sabé. As for your employer, there are many in the new Republic who profit from the continuation of slavery on Tatooine, what with its emerald and sylicax exports, and I would rather not she get caught in the crossfire for choosing to support a violent revolution against those interests. She may ally with us after our victory, if she shares our ideals, when we would be able to offer her as much aid and protection as she could offer us."

"That's fair. And Anakin?"

"Junior's still a boy. Our family was torn apart before he could know I existed. I understand Shmi's death has hit him hard."

Sabé's eyes softened at that, remembering how she'd visited the young man on an escort mission for Padme, and how deeply he'd been shaken from the memory. "He has."

"And the Tuskens here--our allies in this fight--wish retribution on him for the way he dealt with those who killed her. Until we manage settle that matter with them, I would never want to put my own flesh and blood at risk."

Sabé had to sigh. The reasoning was sound, and it all meant that her embedding would have to have some slight changes to it...hopefully. "All right. I suppose I was called here because you want my help."

"Yes. But we can discuss it over lunch." Luke said, as a bell sounded. Sabé watched the workers detach themselves from the vaporators, Luke briefly stopping to check in with them. Not all the workers seemed to be quite al right though; one of the Tusken ones kept fixating on a vaporator, with one of the other workers, a bearded Human, trying to admonish him. "No, wait, stop it--you're gonna pull the power coupling--stop!" all his warnings were for naught, sparks blowing out of the vaporator as the two jumped back. "You moron!" shouted the Human, the Tusken replying in short barks and growl that Tonra and Sabé didn't have to understand Tusken to understand that they meant he was pissed at being insulted like that. "You think I can understand your noises, asshole? I told you to stop--what, did you wanna fry us both? Is that what you'd like?" the Human continued, until a woman with a red scarf and her hair pulled back stepped in.

"Sebben, cut it out." the woman said, while she tried speaking in sign language to the Tusken.

"Beru, you can't ask us to work with these sa...with them. They don't even care enough to speak their language."

"Well, ever tried to learn speak theirs?" Beru snapped turning back to him almost as soon as the Tusken seemed to quiet down.

"Can't believe you're taking their side after Shmi..." Sebben said, and it was as if they'd traded Tatooine for Hoth. The scorching Suns seemed to be replaced by a sudden chill as everybody fell silent, both settler and Tusken.

Now it was Luke who stepped in. "That's a low blow, Sebben." they said, without only the slightest hint of disappointment in their voice, and Sebben seemed to shrink under their gaze. "Shmi was my family too, but you don't see me putting that before the common goal, no?"

"I-I'm sorry, Ka'Lir. I--most of us still need to get used to this." Sebben tried to excuse himself. "But even then this is all really difficult. We can't help train the Tuskens if they refuse to learn the language..."

"Have you thought that maybe they still need to get used to this, too?" Beru said, bitterness in her voice. "We've all killed some of their own here, just like they killed some of ours."

"I know." Sebben said, and turned to the Tusken. "I'm sorry...Ka'btk, was it?" he tried to say in sign language, with Luke helpfully providing a clearer translation on the side. The Tusken grunted in acceptance, and Sebben proceeded to show him how to safely put back the busted mechanism in a slower way this time, using sign language for every step.

"Growing pains." Beru sighed as her and Luke walked back to Tonra and Sabé.

"How's the harvest coming along?" Luke asked, and Beru took off her gloves to shrug.

"It's all fixed. The hydroponics should get enough water for the next batch, and let's pray to the wind that Sanni manages to smuggle it all into Mos Espa to relieve the others. They'll need all the strength they can get for the final push."

"They'll get it, Beru. We found more help." Luke smiled, their eyes softening and their smile becoming warmer before turning to the two Naboo operatives. "Sabé and Tonra have got a rich experience with tactical operations."

"Well, hello there to you." Beru said, extending a hand to Sabé who, this time, accepted it. "I bet you're Padmé's friend. You two look very alike."

"And I suppose you're Beru Whitesun Lars, right?" Sabé shook her hand, and relaxed a little. "Padmé told me about you and your family when I met her after Geonosis. I'm...I'm very sorry about Shmi."

Beru nodded, somber, and then tried to smile. "This planet...it's always been harsh. We're trying to make it a little kinder." she clipped her gloves to her belt, and wiped a tear out of her eye as Ka'Lir turned somber, too, and put a hand around her shoulders to support her. "This was our farm. Shmi's grave is in the back, together with Owen's. I'd have been alone here now...but at least this place now can live."

"Owen's dead?"

"He was the fist to give his life for the revolution."  Beru explained. "What we're doing...at least for me and Luke, it's first of all in Shmi's and Owen's name."

"I understand." Sabé said, and decided to change the subject. "So, how's this place run?"

"Well, huh, I can tell you that as we go inside." Sebben stepped up to them, taking his gloves off himself. "Up here, it's a moisture farm, but down there in the holes we have a hydroponic colture system to maximize water and sunlight. We grow desert plants, too, they're meaty and fatty and don't require much water. What we produce is then sent partly to the guerrillas in the Espa, where in the districts we hold the political commissar oversees first the distribution to those who cannot pay and then oversees the sale of the rest at fixed prices to traders, who have to abide by the profit margin they determine with the political commissar and not a credit more, so all workers in the area can buy from them with no problem."

"But what if the seller wants to earn more than that?"

"Ah, well, they've only gotta try something funny." Sebben made a sly smile, and Tonra explained:

"The penalties for upselling or black market profiteering are harsh. And if they try it again after receiving one, we go in and expropriate it to give it to an elected committee from the neighborhood, who pays a monthly stipend to the former owner so they don't go hungry."

"The water bosses like Jabba or Huff Darklighter let us go hungry enough. We ain't gonna condemn no one else to suffer the same problem." Sebben added, and Beru nodded.

"Obviously, water is free. Trading the water we extract is one of the crimes with the harshest penalties." she explained, and as they stepped into the shadow of the edifice, away from the boiling heat of Tatooine's twin Suns, Sabé could very well understand it. Having no water on this planet meant death.

The group walked inside as they kept explaining things, only briefly stopping for Beru and Luke to peek into a room where an old woman was apparently giving some kind of lesson to a circle of children in a language Sabé couldn't understand. Even there, the children seemed to be both Tusken than not, and a young dark-haired boy from the group went and switched places to sit with Luke. The two briefly talked in another, different language, and then Luke was called to join the lesson, reciting a story.

Sabé couldn't understand anything. Most words were harsh and plain, almost as if they were designed to save time and water. It had however a strange musical quality, almost as if there was no real break or punctuation, and all words flowed directly into each other. Many times, furthermore, during the story, both Luke and the old teacher and the children seemed to be repeating the name of Ka'Lir. Had Luke borrowed it from some fairytale? It was hard to tell--the language bore no similarity to Basic, but Sabé could discern the emotions just fine. Everybody laughed at the end, and when Luke stopped to talk with the dark-haired boy, the boy seemed far more relaxed than before.

He still disturbed Sabé quite a bit. He seemed to have an uncanny resemblance to clone troopers, and joined them for the rest of the way...staring right as Sabé.

"What?" asked the woman, uncomfortable, and as they walked into the underground mess hall, full of bustling people, workers, teachers, farmers, the boy narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're thinking you've seen my face already, haven't you?"

Sabé flushed. "I'm sorry. You look awfully familiar."

"So do you, but I'm a clone, what's your excuse?" the boy asked, and Tonra bellowed out a laugh as Sabé went red.

She wanted to protest, but just as she opened her mouth, another voice called out at their group: "Yo, Lucas! You and Boba gonna finish making the newbie awkward?"

Sabé turned at that, and saw Luke turn towards a green-skinned Togruta man who couldn't have been two years older than her, wearing spacer fatigues with a crop top, who was walking towards them in tandem with a particularly tall and broad-shouldered Tusken who wore a Jedi-fied version of his traditional robes. Both were wearing red scarves like Beru and Luke.

"Hello to you to, Kori." Luke stood on their tiptoes to kiss the Togruta, before turning back to Sabé. "Miss Sabé, meet Korian Maas, my partner and our resident tech engineer, slicer and encryption specialist, and the other face of our movement, former Knight of the Jedi Order and leader of the Tusken people A'Sharad Hett, also known as Ka'Lir Tar'yun."

"Pleasure." Hett nodded at her, while Maas shook her hand with a beaming smile.

"Was wondering when Tonra would bring you here." Maas said, before lazily slinging an arm around Luke's shoulders. "He's talked about you quite a lot."

Sabé looked at Tonra. "I told them only the safe parts, don't worry." he said, before looking at Skywalker. "Though it seems you knew everything already."

"I know a lot of things about Junior's circle and their circles." Luke shrugged. "You know, families are like that."

"Oh, don't get me started. I had seven brothers, and they always seemed to know things about me before even I knew." Tonra chuckled. "I'm sorry for the deception...and I'm glad you're not going to hold our cover against us, by the way."

"What used to be your cover can become your life if you so wish, you don't have to help us forever" Hett said. "After all, you were middling successful traders, and you, Tonra, helped us set up the logistics for the food distribution and control in Espa. After we take the city, it being the last into the enemy's hands, I'm sure nobody would object to you two opening a business here."

"Well..thanks, but my primary service remains towards Senator Amidala." Sabé said, before meeting Tonra's eyes and finding them full of uncertainty. She pursued her lips, and turned back to Skywalker and the others. "May we talk a minute in private?"

"Of course." Beru said, and Sabé grabbed Tonra by the hand to drag him over to a secluded column to the side of the room.

"You know...it's been a while since we last held hands." Tonra remarked as Sabé let him go with a sigh.

"I missed you too, Tonra. I'm sorry if I've been this brusque, but the situation is not exactly...helpful."

"I know. It's my fault, and I'm sorry, Sabé." Tonra said. "I know this was a spare-time job. Something to be helpful, to make it a little better. But these people...to them this is neither a job nor a dream like it's for the Senator, for Padmé. They don't have the luxury of pulling out like us. The fact that someone would help their cause means the world to them."

"I'm not worried about helping them out. We've fought before, Tonra, taken lives. It's stuff we're used to and it's a good cause. What I worry about is their sincerity in regards to Padmé."

"Sabé...if they had ulterior motives, would they be freeing slaves?" Tonra asked, his voice growing softer. Sabé paused, and Tonra stuck his hands into his pockets and looked down. "I don't know, Sabé. When I learned what was happening, seeing milady's dream come true by itself, only with people fighting in the street and in the sand for it, I took my blaster and I found myself helping them out almost by reflex. It felt natural. I don't think people like you or me can fully understand them, having never had to face the same hardships...but they asked for my input on things, Sabé. They talked how they should run their society wwhen this is over and they asked everybody, from the spacer to the farmer, from the tribal chieftain lowest worker, from the trader to the slave who'd just been freed. And then they asked me, too. Me! A complete stranger to their world." Tonra explained, looking back at Sabé with eyes glimmering with joyful disbelief. "Do you realize what it means? Wouldn't you want to stay and see what comes out of it?"

Sabé ran a hand over her mouth, and looked at the the four fighters who she'd been introduced to that day, sharing a table with all the other workers, Beru helping the old woman from the class from before, Luke explainng to Boba how the dish was made, Korian and A'Sharad trying to act as translators between a mixed group of settlers and one of Tuskens...she looked at all of that--and sighed. "I haven't been here as long as you--and it would mean settling down, Tonra. And Padmé still needs me--"

"Not necessarily. I wouldn't take you away from the Senator. I wanna stay, I'd like to help as long as I can, as much as I can. And you'd have a place to stay, to unwind." Tonra gently took her hand back, and looked at her in the eye. "What we did together all these years, Sabé, I enjoyed every second of it, and I missed you."

"I missed you too. I always miss you." Sabé squeezed his hand back, and then paused as she saw a dark-skinned youth of Anakin's age join Luke's table. "...Wait a minute." she said, and walked over to the young man, who was just quietly talking with Beru. "Excuse me." she said, drawing his attention. "But...are you by any chance Kitster Banai?"

Kitster took in Sabé's elegant white flightsuit with a wary look. "I am. Why do you want to know that?"

"Me and my friend, Tonra, helped slaves escape to Karlinus, a planet in our native Chommell Sector. Among them was a Rodian by the name of Wald, he asked us to find you." Sabé explained, and reached into her jacket to take out a piece of paper. "He gave us this drawing."

Kitster unfurled the paper, finding a portrait of himself as a younger teenager. Sabé saw him go tense, almost choking down a sob at the sight. When he looked back at Sabé, his eyes were full of tears. "Can he read now?"

Sabé blinked. "What?"

"I asked you if he can read now."

"Well, huh, sure. We found him and the others jobs in the agro-industry, specifying that the government company should provide them education..."

"Then as soon as this is all over I'm gonna write him a letter." Kitster said, and wiped away his tears to show a proud smile that more than reached his eyes. "Because I can read now, too, and I can also write. I couldn't before, like too many of us, but now I can. We all can."

"Then I'll make sure you live to deliver that letter." Sabé said, squeezing Kitster's wrist, and turned to Luke. "I'm in. All the way."

 

-line break -

 

Coruscant, 21 BBY

 

Sabé clasped her hands tightly together; her knuckles were almost white. "Has Anakin talked to you about his past, Padmé?"

"Sometimes he does." Padmé spoke softly. "When he feels sad and he can't keep it all in. He tells me about his mother, usually. He tells me about his friends. I'm glad you were able to find both of them."

"Kitster told me once that Anakin could almost read because of what his mother had managed to teach him, but he couldn't manage to teach Kitster before he left." Sabé looked back up at Padmé. "Do you understand what it means not to be able to read, Padmé? I didn't, before. I always took it for granted. We all did, back on Naboo. What I found on Tatooine was not what you had me and Tonra do, or what you do in the Senate. It was change like I'd never seen before."

Padmé sighed, rubbing her temple. "Sabé, what would you have me do? I believe in democracy, I need to make it work."

Sabé shook her head. "I saw democracy on Tatooine." she said. "It grew out of the barrel of a gun."

 

-line break-

 

Tatooine, 22 BBY, the year of Tatooine's liberation

 

The morning of the final insurrection, Mos Espa's air had been heavy and tense. Nervous bounty hunters, mercenaries and militiamen patrolled roofs and streets, checking around all corners for signs of rebel activity. The mayor's residence had its upper floor converted into a signal relay for the whole city, as a failsafe against slave revolts. Smoke still drifted from the barricades in the outer quarters and peripheries: the owners of the town could feel the walls closing in. The mayor's palace had had its attic outfitted with a signal relay for all the tracking chips of the city's slaves, to prevent a slave insurrection, and the upper floors of many buildings in the area had been armed with mounted gun turrets. But even if fighting had briefly stopped across town, the businessmen, the slavers, the gangsters who had trapped themselves in that fortress couldn't walk around without fearing to find the stares of slaves, of cleaners, prostitutes, waiters, laborers on their backs.

When Sabine and Korian descended on the roof of the mayor's palace, nobody noticed them. Sabé made short work of the guards on the attic balcony, with Korian pushing open the balcony doors and shooting a tranquilizer dart at the bounty hunter rushing to sound the alarm.

"You know, this is exactly the same plan we pulled the first time around." Korian commented, opening the panel to the signal array mainframe and plugging in his tools to work on shutting it down as Sabé tied up their downed enemies.

"Yeah?" Sabé asked, adjusting the red scarf to better cover the lower part of her face. Korian nodded, punching in codes as Sabé went to lock the door.

"Yeah. But it entailed fighting our way down the building, and Luke got shot in the face."

"Seems remarkably fine for someone who got shot in the face."

"Magic Jedi bullshit, what do I know." Korian whistled, watching his worm as it began infecting the system. "But this time we actually have forces we can split up in different manouvers. It should go smoothly."

And right as he was finished talking, a blaster bolt punched through the door's lock, narrowly missing Sabé. The woman jumped back, looking up at Korian with murder in her eyes. "You just had to say that, didn't you?"

"My bad." Korian gulped, just as a powerful kick threw open the door and a group of Zabraks and Humans rushed in with guns drawn. Sabé wasted no time, taking out a flashbang grenade and throwing it on the floor even before the leader could take aim at them. A deafening explosion rang out, bathing the room in a blinding light, Korian and Sabé diving for cover in the confusion.

Blaster bolts all rang out in different directions, the disoriented and blinded mercenaries firing wildly all around, but it was easy pickings for the most part, until the last of them, a tall Zabrak man, rushed Sabé, taking a shot in the arm but slamming her to the floor.

The two skidded away due to the momentum, but Korian took advantage of that to rush in and kick the mercenary away from Sabé with a boot to the face. The mercenary spun around, disoriented, but got then got up and set his jaw back into place.

"It 's not a good idea to pick a barehanded fight with a Zabrak." he spat, right before picking up Korian by the jacket...and theowing him out into the balcony. Korian barely had time to curse before his words turned into an undignified scream as he flew in the air and then groans of pain as he hit the rock floor of the balcony. He tried picking himself up, seeing the mercenary advance on him, but Sabé beat him to it, taking out a knife and bum-rushing him from behind.

"What--you schutta!" the Zabrak cursed in pain, backhanding her away. "You should have used a vibroblade."

"I can do you one better." Korian groaned, and took out his own blaster. The Zabrak dodged immediately, Korian's shots flying into the room behind him.

"You gotta aim better." the Zabrak said, putting Sabé into a chokehold to use her as a human shield.

"Yeah, I'm not the best." Korian said, cracking a smirk. "But I think I hit a good enough target nonetheless."

The Zabrak turned back towards the room, where sparks and smoke were flying out of the fried signal array, and grim realization started settling in his bones as he heard the voice of Kitster Chanchani Banai bursting through every radio, loudspeaker comm device that there was over town.

"People of Tatooine! The signal array controlling the tracking chips of all slaves of Mos Espa has been destroyed. Slavery has lost its fangs." Kitster's voice said, loud and clear. "Find weapons, take them from your former masters, use knives and stones, join together in groups, and fight back! Let slavers be afraid, and slavery die in fear. Ka'Lir is with us, and rain has come to Tatooine!"

As the Zabrak looked at the town below them, the marketplace plaza directly in front of the tower exploded with blasterfire. Small explosions started to ring out, and a T-16 skyhopper with a red flag painted along its flank flew in, raining fire and dogged by blaster turrets mounted on rooftops by the gangsters and slavers.

"Like I said, good enough." Korian said, still training his gun on the Zabrak as he helped up Sabé. "You okay, Calana?"

"Yeah." Sabé said, and shook herself. The Zabrak said nothing, staring at the spectacle below, arms haning limp by his sides. Korian didn't let up.

"What's your name, man?"

"Yego."

"Well, Yego, I'm probably sure you can see where this is going. I don't mind shooting you if you try to shoot me, but pointless deaths aren't my thing. You could skip town, or reform, it's up to you, but I'd rather end the fight here. Things are gonna wrap up very soon anyway."

Yego snorted. "Where would I go? Darklighter, Dokk Strassi and what's left of the syindicates and the big businessmen are downstairs."

"You could stay here with us and have a chat about life." Korian leant back against the balcony. "Besides, that knife sticking out of your side doesn't look good."

"Best to keep it for the meantime." Yego grosned, and then frowned, looking at the sky. "Um. Isn't your friends' skyhopper flying a bit too close to us?..."

They all turned to see the white face of the T-16 grow ever closer, spinning out of control ans screeching wildly while one of its engines trailed smoke and flames in the air.

Sabé had only time to mildly regret her choices before the impact.

The right wing of the T-16 rammed into the underside of the balcony, smashing the stones to bits and making the floor give way to Yego, Korian and Sabé, and sending them falling to their doom.

"Don't worry, this happened the other time too!" Korian shouted to Sabé with a smile as they fell, witha gigantic nervous grin on his face, as a shadow dropped from the T-16 below them.

"WHAT?!" shouted Sabé, panicking, flailing without being able to grab hold of anything--until it seemed that the air itself grabbed hold of her, and slowed the three's fall down to a crawl.

"Took you long enough, honey!" Korian laughed, as Sabé finally saw the shadow floating below them: it had an orange coat, a red scarf, a blue-and-brown uniform, with a gloved hand outstretched towards them, as if it was the one holding in place...and Luke Skywalker's face.

"Technical difficulties." Skywalker smiled, as they made the four of them fall to the ground safely while the T-16 crashed into a turret in the market and exploded, taking five mercenaries with it. "You all good?"

"I think I'm gonna pass out." Yego said, and promptly did, while Korian once again helped Sabé to ther feet.

"You get used to the craziness." he smiled, and Sabé shook her head with a goofy grin of her own.

"Well, I guess now I know what Padme must go through with Anakin every other day of the week."

"They wish." Luke smirked, and pressed something button on their earpieces, metal unfoldimg from them until it clicked together into a rebreather mask with red-tinted lenses. "Would you believe I found the designs for this whole outfit in Anakin's childhood drawing?"

"They look...cool?"

"Kid had worse naming issues than my own. There was 'Annikin Starkiller' scribbled over them." Sabé laughed at that, feeling a sense of liberating ridiculousness invade her even in such a dire situation.

"You'll tease him later." Korian said, taking out his spare blaster as gangsters started coming out of the intersections in that main market street. "Seems there's people who don't like your fashion sense."

"Nonsssssenssssse. Jusssssst your politicsssssss." the leader of them, a Trandoshan, said, a heavy-duty blaster rifle in his hands. "And the fact you killed Bosssssk."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Luke said, and rushed them barehanded. Sabé made to follow them, Korian grabbed Sabé's arm, dragging her away into another street of stalls.

"What the--aren't you gonna help luke?" she protested, but Korian shrugged.

"Better regroup with the others. Luke can take care of themselves. I mean, they're Luke Skywalker." he said, as Sabé saw people fly out of market stalls in clouds of wooden splinters, smoke, and cries of pain. Korian only grinned. "And they're supercool."

Sabé gulped, but steeled herself and picked up a blaster from a fallen mercenary, following Korian as the two shot, punched and kicked their way out of the market.

They'd only managed to retreat into a street corner when an explosion rumbled behind them, and she saw another ground turret go up in flames as Luke jumped on its wreckage, green lightsaber drawn in the air together with a shorter red one. "Slavers!" they shouted with the Force of thunder. "Come out and face the dragons!"

Dragons?

A third ground turret went up in flames, another figure jumping on it--A'Sharad, his own sabers out. And as the marketplace filled with smoke and flames breathed from the twink dragons of Tatooine, Sabé heard singing from the streets behing them.

"Ka'Lir is with us!" she heard Kitster's voice, followed by Sanni as the two came up on a nearby rooftop, planting a red flag. "What shall we drink to this victory?"

And as the barricades exploded with the fury of masses and masses of people rushing them, Sabé could hear the whole surroundings sing amidst the sound of battle:

What shall we drink, to celebrate this victory?
What shall we drink? The struggle was long!
What shall we drink, to celebrate this victory?

Under the red flag stands Ni'aversa'al
For our cause they stand with us!
We drink to Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al!
Under the red flag stands Tar'yun
For our cause they stand with us!
We drink to Ka'Lir Tar'yun!

"Sabé!" Tonra called out to her, rushing in with a young yellow-skinner Twi'Lek woman. "You all in one piece?"

"Just a little banged up." Sabé said ash they shared a quick hug. "Luke and A'Sharad are really raining Hell."

"I don't know if they can hold for long, though." Tonra said, and pointed to the tower--the enemy had unveiled a collection of mounted gatling blasters and miniguns from the walls, and they were already exchanging fire with the two Jedi while the remaining two turrets from the other rooftops battered them from behind.

"The volume of fire is too great all at once." the Twi'Lek said. "And whomever walks into the marketplace walks into a death trap."

"Two Jedi can take that tower." Korian said. "We need to clear the two turrets on the roofs." he turned to the Twi'Lek, nodding at her. "Faala, you up for coming with me?"

"So we switch places." Sabé smiled at Tonra. "Back in the firefight up close like Naboo, huh?"

"This will be one Hell of a story to tell Senator Amidala." Tonra laughed, and the couple shared a quick good-luck kiss before the two pairs, now modified, split again. She and Tonra darted from cover to cover, shooting any mercenary who dared peek out, until they reached the south-eastern point of the market's circumference, where a small two-story house sat with a rotating repurposed walker turret bolted on top of it.

Tonra wasted no time in kicking down the door, sending light into a broken-down shop, with Sabé shooting the Aqualish that popped up right between the eyes. They ran inside, Tonra going for the stairs as another mercenary, a Human, flung the floor open and went for his gun. Tonra too went for his gun, trying to outdraw him. Sabé rushed to pull him away to safety, but it happened too fast: there was a flash and a bang, and her partner fell back limp into her arms.

"Tonra!" she cried out, grabbing him, but Tonra heaved and shot back up out of her arms.

"I'm okay." he coughed, ripping open his shirt to reveal broken plastoid pieces around a smal, bleeding wound. "Slugthrower. Bullet went in but not out. Plastoid slowed it. No--" he coughed again, but spat out no blood. "--No vital organs or blood vessels severed. I think"

"Force damn it." Sabé swore, and quickly tore off one of her sleeves to bandage him. "Did you really have to go in first, you big oaf?"

"Not my fault I got longer legs, Tsabin."

"Mine might be shorter, but they can still kick your ass if you die on me." Sabé replied, before squeezing his shoulder. "You up for continuing?"

"As always."

Tonra retrieved his blaster, and they ran up to the roof, slamming out the door into a trio of mercenaries who were guarding the fourth one manning the turret. Sabé shot the first one, Tonra punched out the second, the third ran at them with a vibroblade but Sabé flipped hard on his back, and Tonra shot the fourth one dead. Smoke was filling the sky, coming from the tower too, and on the south-western side of the market, right at the other roof objective, Sabé could see Faala use the Force to send debris flying at the mercenaries manning the turret while Korian covered her with his blaster.

"They've got a Jedi for every grain of sand, haven't they?"

"I wouldn't have minded if they'd actually had one to spare." Tonra replied, groaning lightly as he brushed his hand over his wound before regaining his composure. "Alright, let's get this over with."

The two darted towards the cannon, but they failed to consider one very important thing: they'd left two enemies still alive. One of the two mercenaries stood up, shooting Tonra right in the back. The man cried out, getting slammed into the side of the turret, and Sabé turned around and blew the mercenary's head clean off. But she wasn't fast enough. The other mercenary had gotten up, too--and sent a slugthrower bolt straight through her ribcage.

Sabé felt like she was being punched out of her body. The bullet broke her ribs, splintering them into shards that ripped through her flesh and muscle as the slug drove through her lung and went out shattering her shoulder blade.

She fell backwards over the parapet of the building and off the roof. For a moment she was weightless, and then she felt even more bones break, pain blooming inside like the myriad explosions of an aerial bombardment. She heard and glimpsed heavy boots scurry around her, hands dragging heavy blasters--bounty hunters coming to finish the job?

She saw Tonra stumble over the parapet and shoot at the gangsters and scream at them to get away from her. She saw the gangsters and riddle Tonra with bullets and blaster bolts as they fell.

And she couldn't lift a finger to help him. She couldn't even scream. 

But then, as her vision was clouding over, a green blur broke through it like lightning in a clear sky, and she felt strong hands support her up.

"Easy." she heard Skywalker's voice say, and little by little, it was like her body was not in flames anymore. like it was filled with water, broken down at the molecular level and those molecules made to knit themselves back together. 

She shot up gasping, healed.

"Easy." Luke repeated, taking their rebreather mask off and holding her close to tranquilize her. "The first time you get Force-healed can be pretty intense--"

"B-behind us." Sabé coughed, pointing over Luke's shoulder. The Jedi turned, and the two came to face with the Tatooine elites' last-ditch attempt at resistance: out of the curning smoke and flames, a squad of droidekas rolled out.

Luke swore. "This is gonna suck."

"Maybe...not." a voice said from over them, and as Sabé looked up, she saw Tonra, bloodied and shaking, grab onto the control of the roof turret and unleash a torrent of fire over the droidekas. The spherical droids staggered back as their shields screamed, caught between the heat of the inferno that had sprung up in the market and Tonra's blasterfire, until their shields broke down and they were torn apart by the assault. Within thirty seconds, they were dead, A'Sharad and Luke giving the final blow with a pincer wave of Force energy.

"The tower's wide open!" A'Sharad called, rallying the troops, and the town's populace started pouring in from all corners of the market square, weapons in hand for the final push. But as they did so, the turret fire stopped, and they all paused and looked up at the gunman.

Sabé and Luke looked up themselves, and saw Tonra lift his broken body off the turret. He was bleeding from at least a dozen wounds on his body and from the mouth, but he wasn't shaking anymore. The metal of the turret's cannon was red, almost at melting point, and Tonra raised his one of his burned hands, his left one, and made a fist with it, up, up in the air, standing as tall as he could. Then he smiled a bloody smile, and let himself fall off the roof.

Luke caught him with the Force, and set him down gently in the sand.

"Heal him." Sabé said, grabbing Luke, feeling herself choke up, but the Jedi was rigid and grim.

"Nah...I'm...gone already." Tonra coughed out a laugh, and Sabé went down to grab his hand, tears rolling off her face. "This time those vital...organs got...really hit..."

"Shut up. We're gonna heal you, we're gonna tell this all to Padmé one day and laugh about it together like Theed and Bromlarch, we..."

"You, you...wil...l. It's been...an ad...venture, Sabé." he said, squeezing Sabé's hand as if to tell her to be brave. "I'm glad I ended it...with...you. Now...go on and...kick ass, Sabé. Wi...win this." he said, and closed his eyes as he died.

Sabé let his hand fall limp into the sand. It was like something had frozen in her chest.

"He was gone already." Luke said, sighing. "I can heal sombody's wounds, but I can't force the blood they lost back in their body."

"The human brain can last up to eight minutes after brain death. If you heal him we can find his blood type and--"

"I healed you already. I'm sorry." Luke said, shaking their head. "Healing somebody is the Force technique that's the harshest on someone's body. I don't have enough energy to heal another person and keep fighting in order to win this."

Win this. That was what Tonra had told her, wasn't it? She looked up at all the people that were watching, Human, Nikto, Twi'Lek, Zeltros, Tusken, Rodian, Arcona, Bith, Duros, Weequay, former slaves and workers all with weapons still in hand, some with their heads bowed in respect to Tonra, but all tense and ready to fight on, ready to finally win the war and be free.

"Alright." Sabé said, and stood back up straight. "Someone please take care of his body until we're done. I want..I want to give him a proper burial like those of our people."

The crowd shifted, and a Tusken warrior stood raised his hand with a grunt.

"Hok'Tar volunteers." translated A'Sharad, and Sabé nodded and took up her pistol as Luke stood back up themselves and put their mask back on.

"Alright." she said. "Let's all see this through."

 

-line break-

 

Coruscant, 21 BBY

 

Padmé sat in her sofa and blinked away tears as Sabé finished talking. The handmaiden sighed and clasped her hands together as she looked up and tried to read Dormé and Typho's face to discern what would happen next, but her colleagues too were struggling to keep a stoic face.

Then Padmé let out a shaky breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was firmer...and also sadder. "Why didn't you tell me anything, Sabé?"

Sabé tried to avoid her gaze. "Tonra was my friend. Not necessarily yours--"

"I sent him to Tatooine with you, Sabé. I too bear responsibility for his death."

"He made his choices." Sabé said, looking at her once again. "And I made mine in his memory."

"And now that you told me, my best friend is a traitor to the system I represent." Padmé replied, and rubbed her eyes. "I get it. You believe in their cause. I don't want to argue with you about that right now. I don't have the energy. But I can't protect you, Sabine. I can't give you to the police, either, but how can I protect you now that--"

"Have some Zygerrians went by your office these days?" Padmé frowned at that, and her mouth went slack as she realized what Sabé was talking about. "I mean, Sanni mentioned she popped in to surprise you and Sabine today at your 'secret meet-up', and she mentioned you bringing the topic up, so I suppose..."

Padmé gripped the end of the sofa as tight as she could. "That's why nobody can get a hold of them anymore." she said, growing pale. "You've--you've..."

Sabé held up her hands with a small, sad smile. "I've gotten quite some blood on my hands for you, Padmé, for a while. And then I got a ton more for a cause instead of a person. It's not like they didn't deserve it."

"That's not how it works, Sabé. At least, not how it should work." she said, and then grabbed her forehead. "Wait--stars, that means you've implicated me in that too, not just with the note--"

"For looking similar to me? Relax. Nobody saw us. And besides, just like the note thing, it's pretty easy to demonstrate it wasn't you, but me." Sabé shrugged. "And as for the note, it was intended to give you and Anakin an out from all this mess."

"Sabé, I can't just switch sides." Padmé said, and then added, colder than she would have wished: "I have duties. I have loyalties. And I can't have them conflict."

Sabé felt those words stab deep into her chest. "Do you think my loyalties conflict, Padmé? I'm your friend, even if I fight for--"

"Do friends lie? Do friends keep things hidden from each other?"

"Don't they, Padmé? Because if I remember correctly, I only learned you and Anakin got married because I went to visit you once, acted as your decoy, and he mistook me for you."

"That's not the same--"

"Why? How is it not? Haven't you sworn me to secrecy about it, like every other person close to you?" Sabé stood up, furious, and both Typho and Dormé had the decency to look away at her words; it only made Sabé angrier. "Look at them. They can't even say them, and how could they do otherwise? They've got their orders, your orders. I don't think lying in order to fight for justice is worse than lying to protect your boss's storybook romance."

"Is that all I am now? Your boss? Not your closest friend, someone who should be more important than people you just met?" Padmé stood up too, getting right in Sabé's face. "And what would you want me to do about it anyway? Come clean with it and ruin Anakin's life, get him expelled from the Order?"

Sabé held her gaze for a moment. Padmé stood against it, tense and bristling under the taller woman's eyes--before Sabé stepped back, and sighed.

"That's not the plan." she said, and as she let herself breath out and cool down, her mind raced and thought only of one question: what would Luke Skywalker do?

For a moment Padmé seemed to deflate, stunned, but the shorter woman hadn't been made Senator for nothing. She walked back up to Sabé, taking long, firm strides, and asked: "And what would be the plan, Sabé?"

Sabé looked away.

"Well?"

"You and your husband are in the eye of a storm of crap whatever happens, Padmé."

"I think I know who I have to thank for that already, don't worry."

"Yeah...I'll take that. But you both have a way to come out on top, at the same time."

"Really." Padmé drawled. "And what would that be?"

"What if," Sabé turned back at Padmé with a smile, "What if I gave you Luke Skywalker?"

Notes:

Fun fact: the food distribution system explained by Sebben and Tonra is copied beat for beat from what was in use during the Algerian War by the Front de Libération Nationale (Algerian Arab-socialist, left-nationalist organization that liberated the country from French rule), as detailed by Afrikan marxist FLN freedom fighter Frantz Fanon in his political testament "The Wretched of the Earth". I strongly recommend it. It's one of the most radical practical and theoretical explorations of anti-colonialism, class struggle and collective liberation that exists, made for the people of the Global South by the people of the Global South, and a very sobering, eye-opening read for those of us who live in the Global North, in the West...the heart of the Empire, as Star Wars characters would put it.

Meanwhile, Tonra's death is an homage to the myth around Dante di Nanni, an Italian communist partisan. During the Italian Resistance he held at bay fascist squads who had snipers and armored vehicles with just a rifle and some grenades, but was shot (or shot himself) as he was captured. His story was later embellished into an heroic death like that of Tonra, but in any case it's incredibly cool. I strongly suggest Stormy Six's eponymous song about him, to have a feel for the importance of his story. (Here it is if you wanna listen to it: https://youtu.be/9h07tbGBMPw)

And lastly, the song that the revolutionaries start singing in this chapter is a barely-modified homage to Oktoblerklub's rendition of "Was Wollen Wir Trinken?" a German folk song they remixed into an ode to East German socialism-building and Chilean Communist Party leader Luis Corvalán.

That's a lot, so I'll be very quick with the...

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER

Korian Maas could not believe his ears. First, he covered his face with his hands and screamed into them. Next, he screamed at Sabé's hologram.
"YOU DID WHAT?!"

Chapter 17: Verbal sparring, politeness judo

Summary:

Padmé Amidala has captured her best friend. Padmé Amidala fears she might have to break the Galaxy to save it.
Padmé Amidala is soon going to find she's not the only one at it, and far from the first or most radical.

Notes:

Shorter chapter this time, I'll try to make them more frequent so it's easier and they're more digestible. Hope you like this! :D

Chapter 17: Verbal sparring, politeness judo

 

Tatooine

 

Korian Maas liked to think himself a personable, laid-back, and all-around chill man, if flawed and awkward. He'd seen a lot of BS in his life, and he appreciated a good working day just going smoothly and without the need to have a heart attack.

Today, like most days, was not one of such days.

He had come into the makeshift office the Central Committee had built for themselves as they assisted in the rebuilding of Mos Pelgo, and sat down poring through intelligence files. For all the damage they'd cause, it seemed Travis and Brie hadn't really attempted a proper infiltration of Tatooine's civil life, preferring to rely on mercenaries and the bigger, expropriated businesses, but it still gave all of them a deep anxiety, if not for the fact that they'd almost succeeded--showing the limitations of their hands-on, face-first approach to everything on Tatooine, and the dire need for more structure in it.

But that luckily wasn't Korian's job. His job was mantaining rapport with the other parts of the Rebel Alliance when Sanni, Luke or A'Sharad couldn't, and keep contact with the various SOLIRMO agents around the Galaxy. And when Sabé called him back earlier than expected he actually had a good feeling about it for once.

And he regretted it as soon as he picked up the holocomm.

Korian Maas could not believe his ears. First, he covered his face with his hands and screamed into them. Next, he screamed at Sabé's hologram.
"YOU DID WHAT?!"

Luke perked up from their study session with Faala and Boba, right on the other side of Korian's desk. "Everything alright, darling?"

"Just peachy." Korian forced a smile, and handed them the holocomm. "It's for you. You might wanna put on the costume first, though. Don't want the Senator to have a good look at your face before we get the proper measure of her."

"I guess you're right " Luke said, putting aside their little red notebook and getting off the sofa. 

"So does this mean that Sabé didn't follow the instructions, or that she followed them too closely?" Faala wondered while Luke went to the nearest closet to retrieve their fighting duds. "Because if she hasn't even gotten around to investigating what Barriss asked us to find out..."

"I'll plead the case myself if need be. Meanwhile..." Luke shrugged on their orange coat and put on their black, droid-like rebreather mask, "Cower and tremble, children!" they then said, putting on a voice and wiggling their hands at Boba and Faala. "The terrible Starkiller comes for all those who don't do their homework!"

Boba laughed outright at the display, while Faala shook her head with a snort.

"Alright, alright. Have your holodrama fun, we'll keep studying."

"But then we have to go for pancakes." Boba remarked. "Hoar still owes me for beating his ass, and so does the new Je'tii."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Luke smiled behind the black mask, and plopped down on the chair right next to Korian to speak with Sabé. "I guess Padmé didn't take it kindly, Sabé."

The hologram of Sabé tried to shrug, but she averted her gaze. "They found me out and I tried following your advice, and coming clean in order to get her to trust me again."

"And it didn't work?"

"I don't even know if I'm allowed to leave the building, truth be told."

"If that's the case, you know that prisons are not an issue for us, Sabé."

"I'm not even sure I want to." Sabé gave a noncommittal snort. "And yet, however salty I might have been, I'd rather not choose between you people or her, Luke."

"I'll try making her see that there's no reason to force that choice on you."

"Well, I've already tried fruitlessly, but knowing you...well, you could charm rocks, Skywalker. You could charm your own mother out of being angry at you."

"Then just watch me, comrade." Luke smiled, and winked. "Supercool, remember?"

"You're lucky you're so modest, no way for my hopes to get too unrealistic." Sabé snarked back, before trying to force a smile. "Whatever comes out of it...I just hope to be able to bring him flowers next month."

"You will be." Luke reassured Sabé as she stepped into the other room to hand over the transmission to Padmé Amidala. "You will be."

And when Luke finally saw the Senator from Naboo, their heart skipped a beat. The pictures in the history books didn't do her justice. Where Sabé's lineaments were tired and hardened, Amidala's were softer, friendlier, and yet at the same time regal. She looked like how Leia would have grown up if her life hadn't been one of escaped kidnappings and covert ops. She looked...serene, almost, by comparison.

Luke felt grateful for their mask. This way, their mother couldn't see them choke down tears just to be able to talk to her.

And then Luke felt Korian squeeze their hand under the table. You can do this, he was telling them, without any need for the Force.

And so Luke did it.

"Greetings, Senator Amidala. It's an honor to finally speak with you."

Is it, really? Luke almost expected her to say, in true Leia fashion, after what Sabé had told her what their figths could be. But instead, Padmé went at it from a completely different direction.

"I'm flattered by the declaration, Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al. I had no idea that someone who manifests such brazen contempt for our democratic system could ever admire its representatives."

She's good, smirked Luke.

"Even here in the Outer Rim we know of your dedication to finding a peaceful solution to the Clone War, and your campaigns against slavery." Luke replied. "We only disagree on the efficiency of your chosen methods, but otherwise we cannot help but admire you."

"That's very complimentary to you, were it not for the fact that you showed contempt for said representative, in your tries to approach them."

"Senator...do you really believe I'd say something incrimidating, when we both know all too well that the head of your security team has had a camera built into his eyepatch, and that, given the way this conversation came to be, he is right in the room with you, recording our every word?"

Whoever they are, they're good, Padme thought on the other end of the line, as Typho gaved her an alarmed look. "Alright, Tycho, turn it off."

"Not so fast." Ka'Lir admonished in a playful tone. "Make him step into the image, turn it off, and say it's turned off."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

Padmé remembered that Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al carried a lightsaber. "Do it, Gregor." she said, and the Captain nodded, still a little pale, and stepped in front of the holocomm to obey.

"It's off."

"Good." Ka'Lir seemed to smile behind his mask. "There. Now we can be frank, Senator. I maintain I still have the utmost respect for you...after all, this evens the playing field. Now we're both cheaters."

"I'm no cheater." Padmé replied. "I don't believe in shortcuts in democracy."

"Please. Your exploits at Geonosis are well known. But then again, that really wasn't democracy you were serving."

"I will not stand to be insulted with claims of 'imperialism'. Not when you seem to export your brand of 'democracy' with far more violence."

"The Republic exports markets, Senator. It dealt quite readily with the Hutts, gangsters, businesspeople and slavers governing this side of the Galaxy, never daring to lift their yoke because ores and spices are just too profitable when they're mined from people who are forced to do so with the threat of bombs in their bodies and thus cannot even demand wages for their labor." Ka'Lir replied. "Now production and resources are in the hands of the common folk of each planet."

"And you think that your system will solve the Clone War, by adding one more side to the conflict?"

"We believe in only one valid type of conflict, that between slaves and masters. So long as those running the Clone War are all masters, we don't see why we should pick either side."

"A bold statement of coherence. A pity that you break it by trading with Republic systems like Mandalore."

"We trade with CIS systems too. Not everywhere does the revolution need to be violent in order to develop."

"Or maybe you're afraid you lack the firepower to truly win on your own and you'd rather buy allies to help you hang on when you inevitably sue for peace like just another high-hopes, in-over-their-head warlord."

Now there's Leia, finally, Luke smiled behind their mask. "This war is punishing many worlds that wish not to choose a side, Senator. Is it wrong to want to aid such kindred spirits?"

"And what if the evil Republic wanted to do so, too? By putting an end to this war through peaceful negotiations? Seems to me you'd be robbed of a good many of your arguments."

"How so? We would welcome peace. In fact, we'd even be willing to lend you a hand, and mediate between you and the CIS. We have friends on both sides among the oppressed, the discarded and the put-upons."

Now Padmé was really taken aback. "What?"

"That, and grant you protection in such talks should you wish so. We have comrades among your friends, who would rather you come to see peacefully the results of our revolutionary experiment, our socialism, and reflect if they wouldn't be best in your corner of the Galaxy, instead of meeting on the battlefield." Ka'Lir explained. "That, and you're family, Senator."

Padmé swallowed. No. This had to be a trick. A low blow, aided by Sabé...but she couldn't think so low as Sabé. Not after what she'd offered her. She gave a twitch of the ear--a clear signal for Typho tor start recording again. "Are you Luke Skywalker? Because otherwise, that claim has no sense."

"We will give you Luke Skywalker." Ka'Lir replied, a sudden coldness in their voice. "It will be Skywalker who discusses with you the details of this partnership of ours--with you and their brother, your husband Anakin Skywalker, as witness, if you so wish."

Shit. Now they'd made the recording unusable. She couldn't give it to any court, lest they endanger Anakin. "Typho...stop recording." she sighed, and Typho sighed too, turning off his eyepatch-camera again.

"Wonderful. Now, if you'll let our comrade Sabé go, she'll keep us in touch, and deliver Skywalker to you." Ka'Lir smiled. "Do we have a deal?"

Padmé struggled not to grumble. "We do."

"Then may the rain come for your world too, Senator." Ka'Lir said as the hologram turned off, and when Padmé handed the holocomm back to Sabé, she had the audacity to look smug.

"Thanks, Padmé."

"Don't mention it." Padmé rubbed her face. "I thought you told me Skywalker and Ka'Lir were the same person."

Sabé batted her eyes at her. "Did I? Or did I tell you there was more than one Ka'Lir?" Padmé frowned. That was not--there were only two Ka'Lirs-- "Oh, by the way, just so you know," Sabé was by the balcony, holding up the holocomm, how on Coruscant had she managed to get there so fast-- "I did record everything."

And then she jumped off the balcony.

"By the Force!" gasped Typho, rushing to the balcony with Dormé. "That's Force-knows how many kilometers of fall--"

She'll be alright, Padmé heard in her mind, with a voice she'd never heard before but that she felt in her bones like she'd know it in a crowd, and jumped. You'll meet her soon...with Skywalker.

As a cargo transport roared up with Sabé perched on its hull, Padmé could only shudder in fear at the voice's invasion of her mind, while on the other side of the galaxy, on Tatooine Luke Skywalker shuddered in exhertion as they took off their mask.

"Damn. Trying to mind-speak with Force-nulls so far away takes a bite out of you." they said, and Faala frowned.

"Don't you think that's a bit intimidating and not a very nice thing to do? Considering who we're talking about?"

"What's so special about that Senator?" Boba asked, and Faala bit her tongue. She shouldn't have said that.

"If you're worried about that," Korian chuckled meanwhile, "You should see the mind games old Dooku is up to."

 

-line break- 

 

The Malevolence, the capital ship of Droid Army leader General Grievous

 

General Grievous was fuming. He had risen from war-torn Kalee as a conqueror, a destroyer of armies, leader of the Separatists' Droid Army, augmented with state-of-the-art cybernetics, trained in lightsaber combat by the best swordsman of the Jedi Order. He was the perfect killing machine...and now he was an accountant.

It was an unacceptable slight, in Grievous's mind, and yet there was nothing he could do about it. Ever since the SOLIRMO raid on the IGBC had wiped both the Republic and CIS's funds, Count Dooku had ordered what remained of their finances be converted into material support to help those worlds struggling harder due to the effect of economic cross-sanctioning. And when the Ryloth rebels revealed that SOLIRMO had gifted the codes to the Separatists' weapons systems to all independent planetary armies, the field capabilities of the Droid Army had been nullified, and Count Dooku had ordered Grievous to focus on logistics and intelligence instead.

Deep in Grievous's electrode-filled mind, down into what remained of his original personality--Qyman Jai Sheelal, the conqueror, the strategist--Grievous knew it made sense. It was the best they could do while they regained their strength and the Republic was similarly incapacitated.

So Grievous paced his ship like a chained beast, attacking whatever droid was unlucky enough to come into his path, sanitation droids (both battle-droid and not) working over time to clean off the scattered pieces and oils of their brethren after Grievous sliced them up with his lightsabers.

"Do you think we should unionize?" asked a communications officer battle droid to a sanitation-duty battle droid as they watched the umpteenth workplace murder unfold.

"Yeah, probably." commented the droid, and this time they decided not to clean. 

And so began the first droid strike in the CIS army.

And for Count Dooku, it was an instant bonus. Sidious had deigned himself to call him again after the disaster dominoes that had begun falling after Chelli Minor, and he decided to play his cards as hard as he could.

"You see, Master?" he said to Sidious's hologram that shone over his desk. "It's bad enough that we have to wait until the Corporate Sector's Separatist engineers offer us another software to avoid getting our troops neutralized by the socialists and their rebel friends, but Grievous is now cutting into our supplies."

Sidious's eye twitched. "Can't you let him just break the strike, Tyranus?"

"I could. But that would mean letting him destroy the striking droids, and that could spark more strikes."

"Then let him just turn them off and reprogram them. That will put proper fear into the droids, and make them feel like every little step they can make against us can just be reprogrammed and taken away from them."

"I could, but as the strikes spread that will mean turning off even more droids and leave us increasingly weaker to attacks if word gets out to our enemies, my lord. I fear we may have to grant some of their demands..."

"For Bane's sake, Dooku! They're just droids!" Sidious snapped. "They're merchandise, no different from a toothbrush. Would you entertain the demands of a toothbrush if it could talk? Or a fork? Or a stove! No! You need more, tax your systems more."

"My Lord, our plan was to give the CIS a democratic character like that of the Republic." Dooku replied without raising his own voice. "The Senate has been resisting your demands for heavier taxation to buy more clones and replenish the funds stolen by the socialists. The Separatist Parliament has been no different. Now those worlds have even begun pushing for a peaceful settlement.  If you want me to come out with it like the Sith of old, wield my army like a warlord and a dictator, I will play my part. But you need to tell me if you want me to make that sacrifice, or..."

"Forget it." Sidious pinched his forehead. "Find a solution on your end, and I'll do the same on mine. I don't care." he said, and ended the transmission. Dooku smiled, and called up Bec Lawise, Speaker of the Separatist Parliament. He would find a solution alright...just not one that Sidious would like.

Notes:

Lighter chapter this time, yet developments are picking up: things aren't going to be easier for our favorite Chancellor or Jedi...you'll see ;)

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER

"Men, fall back and shoot from cover!" Rex shouted over the blaster fire, as Jedi Master Pong Krell slashed through the ranks of the 501st trying to subdue him. "We need to capture him!"
"You really think if the Republic will care if I slaughter a hundred of you? A thousand?" the Besalisk Jedi Master cackled at the retreating soldiers. "You're all replaceable! We can buy you by the thousand from the Kaminoans."

Chapter 18: Umbara

Summary:

Sheev Palpatine hasn't risen to Dark Lord of the Sith and Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic by being an idiot, and he's about to show it to these dang communists.
Pity that his two wayward apprentices have decided the same thing at the same time.

Notes:

Beta read by the awesome: Speaker_Astra

Chapter Eighteen: Umbara

 

Darth Sidious, formally known to the public at large as Republic Chancellor Sheev Palpatine, sat in his office sifting through his usual pile of military, financial and intelligence reports and growing more and more irated. The war had ground to a halt, and every news article he looked at seemed to be about the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance and the communist fools who ran it.

 

"ASRA delivered supplies to end the famine on Dantooine. A joint agricultural effort was devised." 

"Immense agricultural worlds Kashyyk and Ryloth join the ASRA." 

"ASRA finances union strikes on Kuat and Corellia through their SOLIRMO operators."

"Shipbuilding powerhouse Kinyen petitions to join the ASRA due to sympathies between the ruling Tayan League and SOLIRMO socialist governments." 

"SOLIRMO raids on Kessel slave facilities transport freed slaves to ASRA territory." 

"Cham Syndulla establishes new Provisional Government on Ryloth. Republic Senator Orn Free Taa recalled on Ryloth. SOLIRMO advisors invited to oversee drafting of new Constitution." 

"Core-quakes shake Galadon 3, SOLIRMO relief efforts save untold lives."

"Refugees from both sides of Clone War welcomed on Tatooine and ASRA systems." 

"Duchess of Kalevala Satine Kryze begins talks with Old Mandalorians, Death Watch and Mandalorian Houses for new joint government. SOLIRMO leaders present as advisors." 

"Cham Syndulla and SOLIRMO send aid to revolutionaries on Kessel."

"SOLIRMO guerrillas spotted aiding miner's rebellion on the Minemoon of Minban."

"League of Neutral Systems grows in numbers. Talks of a trade agreement with ASRA."

 

He wanted to kill somebody. He needed to kill somebody, or he would go crazy otherwise.

Whoever was this Ka'Lir person, it seemed as if they knew half of his plans in advance (but Sidious knew of no moles on any of the two sides) and then just pulled the dumbest or craziest stunt they could possibly imagine, and somehow it worked. And there was no way of knowing anything more than they let on, because all the spies that Sidious tried to send out either died or defected. Asking Dooku to do it didn't yield better results: the man, useful as he was, had his hands full already with Grievous. The cyborg general had decided to mind-wipe the striking droids as Sidious had suggested… and as Dooku had predicted (damn the old fool and his being occasionally right) the strikes had only spread and several sectors of the Separatist forces had been paralyzed.

And worse, Anakin Skywalker was running around the Galaxy asking about Ka'Lir like a lost puppy. What was it that the boy was not telling him? It couldn't be that it was just the shared Tatooine connection. This all just gave Sidious very little time to actually exert any influence on the young Jedi, and it frustrated him to no end.

And there was also the larger matter of the war. There had been revolts across the Republic now that the news of the IGBC's backroom dealings had leaked out, and money was frozen. However, if he remembered well, he had a backup card he could replace San Hill with. Young Rush Clovis. And he was an old friend of Padme Amidala… perfect for making it look like a new face had arrived to weed out the IGBC of corruption, unfreeze the accounts, and get a new loan for more clones.

But how to justify it?

He needed an incident. One where the Separatists could attack the Republic without ASRA deploying the data they had stolen from Dooku to shut down the droid armies. A Separatist world that had its own militia, where the blood of sentients with full citizen rights could be spilled, thus fueling hatred for the Republic.

The list was only moderately long.

Sidious's eye landed on one of the minor Mid Rim sieges. Umbara. One of the worst affected by the fallout from the droid strikes. It was vulnerable, the situation was almost untenable, but it was a guaranteed quagmire for the Republic. And who was in command… oh! It was his lucky day, then. The commander was no other than Anakin Skywalker.

Suppose that Sidious remove young Skywalker from command of the 501st, and replace him with a far more brutal General who would happily let his precious 501st get slaughtered… Yes, that had put Sidious in a good mood. These Rebels had stopped his war only a year in and Skywalker was not mature enough to take as an apprentice. No, he needed to give him a little push. He needed to accelerate his plans and put the war back in motion, or his plans could very well fall apart.

He began drafting the letter that would recall Skywalker to Coruscant. But who to replace him with?

Mmmmmmm.

This Pong Krell fellow seemed crazy enough. Yes, he could feel that the Besalisk Jedi Master had already slipped to the dark side. His bloodlust and casual disregard for clones' lives was well detailed in the intelligence reports.

Sidious leant back in his chair. Ah, sometimes it was fun to be the Dark Lord.

 

-line break-

 

The news of war breaking out once again on Umbara due to new Jedi General Pong Krell's activities and IGBC activity starting up due to the new IGBC head were received on Tatooine as well as a starfighter to the face.

"The karkin' sleemo!" cursed Kitster in Huttese.

"I can't believe it," said Beru, in shock. "He really just wants people to die."

"He's getting ahead of himself," growled A'Sharad, pacing furiously around the meeting room. "We still have too few planets on our side."

"We should go to Umbara and stop the fighting. Make him see that whatever he tries, we just won't let him get away with it." interjected Faala, and Boba piped up in agreement.

"Yeah! And kill the di'kut that is leading my brothers!"

"We can't kill a Jedi Master just like that." protested A'Sharad. "This is not like slavers or Hutts, where the powers that be do not care about those."

"Can't we?"

The icy cold of the desert night permeated the room, and everybody looked to Luke.

"Pong Krell will show his true colors, so either the clones are forced to kill him, or we are, in order to defend them. Luke said, and even in their calm demeanor, everybody could feel in their coldness the fury of a sandstorm on the horizon. "Faala. How is progress on the new clones' rights bill in the Republic Senate?"

A small look of understanding spread on Faala's features. "None. Stalled at the early stages to restart the war effort."

"Then it's only more ammunition against the Republic."

"Oh, I'm loving this." cackled Maul.

"Boba." Luke turned to the young boy. "You hold the Darksaber. There's many clans on Mandalore who would say yes to your every whim just for that, and we are friends with Duchess Satine." they explained. "Would you like your brothers to be made Mandalorian citizens?"

Boba's features grew brighter. "Yes. Yes I would."

"Then it is done." Luke said. "We depart for Umabara at once."

"Pong Krell is such a shit guy that when I was in the Order I've heard volunteer officers discuss fragging him. I'm pretty sure he's fallen to the dark side and he's playing into Umbara's hands just for shits and giggles, if not to defect." A'Sharad said. "But mostly shits and giggles. Hopefully the clones wise up and frag him before he flips out and starts killing them."

 

-line break-

 

Umbara

 

Hopefully didn't cut it, unfortunately. The clones did indeed 'wise up' and learn of Krell's fall and betrayal. The problem was that, them being clones and him a Jedi General, their programming made them decide to arrest him instead of fragging him. And Pong Krell, having four arms, the Force, two double-bladed lightsabers and three hundred and fifty kilos of solid muscle, reacted as well as could be expected.

He flipped out and started killing the clones.

"Men, fall back and shoot from cover!" Rex shouted over the blaster fire, as Jedi Master Pong Krell slashed through the ranks of the 501st trying to subdue him. "We need to capture him!"

"You really think if the Republic will care if I slaughter a hundred of you? A thousand?" the Besalisk Jedi Master cackled at the retreating soldiers. "You're all replaceable! We can buy you by the thousand from the Kaminoans."

"I should have known you were a karkin' traitor!" cried Dogma, who had previously been the last clone trooper to stick by Krell's side even as he led their battalion into increasingly suicidal attacks. "You made us kill brothers! You're a stain on the Jedi, a stain on our commanders!" shouted the soldier, advancing on the fallen Jedi as he kept shooting. "You should be court-martialed! You should be--"

"Oh please," Krell chuckled darkly, grabbing Dogma with the Force and pulling him closer as a human shield, "As if someone would believe the word of a vat-grown flesh droid over that of a Jedi Master."

"I would." the voice came from behind Krell: none of the troopers could see who it belonged to, except for Dogma; even Krell had scarce time to see its owner as he turned, before a roundhouse kick impacted his head and threw him down face-first into the ground. "And I do." called a second voice. Krell crumpled like wet paper, releasing Dogma and revealing three figures in SOLIRMO military fatigues, a blonde Human, a Togruta and a Twi'Lek.

"Comrades, attend to the wounded troopers." the one who had knocked down Krell, the Human, told the other two as Krell started picking himself up. "I'll deal with this depur ."

With a furious cry, Pong Krell ignited his twin double-bladed-lightsabers and lunged at the Human.

Rex, utterly flabbergasted, found himself under the scrutiny of a medscanner.

"I-I'm fine," Rex stammered, dimly realizing that the guerrilla inspecting him was the same Togruta that had had been named (were these even their real names anyway?) as the slicer of the IGBC heist on Muunlinist. "My men need more attention than me."

"On it. " the Togruta said gently, moving to the next soldier, while the Twi'Lek healed the wounded...with the Force?

Rex swore in his head. So there were Jedi who chose to be on the side of...of...

...what side were these people on, anyway?

"Fives?" mumbled Dogma to the brother who was now helping him up, as they watched the SOLIRMO leader jump circles around Krell's ever-faster lightsaber strikes

"Yeah?"

"Are we really being saved from the person right on top of the Republic's wanted list right under Grievous and Dooku?"

"Yeah."

"I think I might have chosen the wrong name, then." Dogma said, and Fives laughed as Pong Krell had an aneurysm.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" he bellowed. "I'LL KILL YOU DEAD!"

"You cannot touch me." the SOLIRMO leader said, ducking under another of Krell's double slashes as if it was nothing, stepping into his guard and placing a hand just an inch away from the Besalisk's sternum, "I am Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al. I am the desert wind."

A powerful Force pulse sent Krell flying away, straight into the no man's land betwen the Republic and Umbaran lines. 

"Perfect." Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al stated into their comm. "Release...the Mauler."

The Clones looked up to see a twinkle in the sky. Small, then widening into a dot. Then growing bigger, and bigger...

"Is that… durasteel music I hear?" Hardcase asked, baffled, and Ka'Lir nodded as they walked up to them.

"Yup. It's the Mauler's entrance theme."

"The...the Mauler?" whoever the Mauler was, Krell evidently had some inkling, because when he finally picked himself off the ground (again) and looked up in the sky, his eyes bulged out of his skull and he started running towards the Umbaran front line, screaming at their soldiers for protection. But it was all in vain: as the music reached its highest note, two durasteel metal legs crashed upon the Besalisk, reducing the fallen Jedi to bloody, bloody paste.

"YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" bellowed the Mauler in sync with the lyrics of his entrance theme, rising from the mushy crater in the ground that had formerly been Pong Krell, retrieving both his double bladed lightsabers, and rushing towards the panicked Umbarans alone. "THE MAULER IS HERE!"

"He's enthusiastic like that." Ka'Lir chuckled as he helped dress Rex's wounds.

"He's half a Zabrak with crazy tattoos and an open-chested tunic and two double-bladed lightsabers."

"I know, yeah?" the Togruta snorted, rolling his eyes behind his mask goggles. "These new wrestlers are sooooo extra."

"Wait, you mean wrestling's real?" Hardcase asked with childlike wonder, and the Twi'lek, who had been hovering over him to Force heal his injuries, scoffed in response.

"Of course it's real. They just take care not to harm each other in the staged matches they do. But this is not a staged match, and would you have asked the Mauler to extend the same courtesy to the sleemo who was trying to kill you?"

"Well of course not."

"My apprentice makes a good point." Ka'Lir chuckled, and gave a quick checkup to her work. "Alright, you lot seem in shape enough. Guess we'll just pick up the Mauler once the Umbarans surrender and get out of your hair."

"Surrender?" Rex asked in disbelief. "You sent just one man--" he couldn't finish the sentence, a gigantic ball of fire from the main Umbaran base cut him off. "--Uh."

"YOU CANNOT ESCAPE FROM ME!" the Mauler power-screamed among the carnage, slashing Umbaran soldiers left and right "I NEVER SKIP LEG DAY!"

"But you don't even have legs!" hapless Umbaran soldier #375 sobbed out in fear before the Mauler dropkicked them in the head.

"DID I FUCKING STUTTER?!?" the Mauler bellowed, and backflipped into a tank, tearing straight through its shell and blowing it up.

"Like I said," the Togruta said as Hardcase kept watching the carnage with unabashed fanboy glee, "Soooo extra."

"Wait!" Rex said, and immediately regretted his following words: "Do you think we're just going to let you go like this? Even though you're wanted terrorists, criminals?"

"Criminals?" Ka'Lir asked. "Well, if saving clones is a crime, then I guess we are criminals, yes..."

"T-That's not what I meant. Even so, you may have saved our lives, but...you still killed a Jedi, and held ransom the Republic!"

"Let it be." Dogma said, rising from the fold. "Krell was right. Krell was right. If he had slaughtered us until only the greener ones remained--or worse, those like me--the Republic would have listened to his word over ours."

"You can't be serious." protested Kix, and Dogma shook his head. 

"I could recite you the GAR penal code verbatim. Testimony from volunteer officers, be they Jedi or non-Jedi, can fully overrule clone testimony, and discrepancy is grounds for behavioral inspection on Kamino, to check for 'faultiness'. And aggression of volunteer officers without solid evidence of defection to the Separatist cause is punishable with death." Dogma said, and then added, bitterly: "Krell said it best: legally, we are vat-grown flesh droids."

"Come on, brother, I refuse to believe that that's how the Republic sees us!"

"If it wasn't, would they have put it in writing?" the Twi'Lek asked and rolled up her sleeve, revealing the slave brand of a Hutt crest. "We have the same mementos, brethren. Only that yours has the form of a barcode."

"They're not all like that." Rex tried to say. "For example, our commander, General Skywalker, says he's sponsoring a bill with Senator Amidala of Naboo to grant us voting rights, a reintegration program and a full stipend." he explained, and the Twi'Lek snorted. 

"Yeah, and who of you reads the Republic Senate Gazette?"

Jesse raised his hand. "Uh, I do."

"And has this bill actually turned up?"

"... Senate committees and the Chancellor's office saying money needs to go to military purchases."

"And since the Chancellor appoints both of those, you probably can start to see what our point is." the Togruta piped in, and the clones shifted nervously.

"You need not feel impotent, however." the Twi'lek said. "There are no masters on the worlds of the Rebellion, like Tatooine, Kashyyk and Ryloth. Anyone of you who wishes to learn what freedom means is welcome anytime."

"To what end? We cannot desert." Dogma said, slumping down in a sitting position on some debris. "We would be hunted down."

"You will be safe with us." the sound of a jetpack got the trooper's attention, and a small Mandalorian about yay high landed at the side of the group, handing Ka'Lir a datapad. "The Umbarans plead surrender, Ka'Lir." he explained, taking off his helmet as Ka'Lir read the declaration of surrender.

"It says 'Oh God Oh God Oh God please make it stop what we have done to deserve it make it stop I beg you we swear we'll do anything you like oh no get away please leave us alone'...it's six pages of this."

"Well, it's what it took Maul and me to reach the capital."

"So the Mauler and his young partner strike again, huh? Just like on Mandalore."

"Precisely." the boy grinned, taking off his helmet, and Rex felt confused. The kid looked exactly like them.

"You've gotta be kriffin' with me." Rex muttered. "You're Jango Fett's son." he asked, and the boy gave a shrug and a nod. "You vanished from Kamino, brother. What happened to your father?"

"Decapitated by Jedi General Mace Windu." Fett said flatly. "Because apparently he was an enemy."

"What? But he was our mentor!" Jesse said. "He trained so many of us!"

"Well, some older brothers did say he was working for Dooku on Geonosis." Dogma muttered under his breath, and Boba nodded.

"Yeah, because Dooku hired him to be your donor and trainer."

"But...Dooku's a Separatist--"

"Well, used to, not anymore."

Rex could feel a massive headache forming. He did not want to think about the implications of their development being influenced by the enemy. He did not want to think about how the Republic had completely washed their hands of that and yet cared enough to basically give them the same non-rights as kriffing droids...aaaaand there was the headache. Yup. What a blast.

He sighed, and looked back at Boba. "I'm sorry your father was killed, vod'ika . Whatever the battle-lines, the allegiances...no child should ever grow up without an ad . It wasn't right for you."

"It wasn't right for you all, either, brothers." Boba said, softly, and put back on his helmet. "You deserve better."

"Tatooine is always open for you and your men, Captain Rex, and all clones who would rather have peace and freedom." Ka'Lir added as a YT-1300 Corellian freighter started bearing down on their little clearing. "You're welcome there, whenever you decide to come."

"And on Mandalore, too." Boba added. "You're all my father's sons, and thus my brothers. According to Mandalorian law you're Mandalorian citizens by birth, by his blood...and by my adoption."

"Your adop...tion?"

"Yeah." Boba shrugged. "I'm the King of Mandalore, bro."

Now that was another jawdropper.

"Wait, Boba, if I'm your guardian, and Mandalorian custom is like that, does this mean that they're all my kids, too?" Ka'Lir mused, adding strangeness to strangeness, and Boba seemed to ponder it.

"You know, Aman Ka'Lir, I think you're right." the boy replied, his bright, cheery voice unnatural through the helmet's vocoder. "You can be Aman for them too."

"It's settled then." Ka'Lir said, and bowed to the clones. "I hope we meet again soon. En bashi tuur anakki, wessaro. "

Rex made an awakward sound. "What does that mean?"

"It means...no, you know what? I have a better idea." Ka'Lir's grin was palpable even with the mask. "Ask Junior."

And with that, the odd group left on their ship, leaving the clones to ponder on their condition, and the offer.

Quietly observing his men regain their bearings, Rex pulled out his comm and dialed the all-too familiar secure frequency. "Cody," he spoke, "We have to talk."

 

-line break-

 

The report was excruciating. When he and Cody went back to the joint 501st-212th camp to call Jedi Command, the hologram of Mace Windu narrowed his eyes at their story.

"So you're saying that Master Krell fell to the dark side, started throwing your men into suicide attacks, forcing you troopers to fight and kill each other...for what?"

"To do a favor to the Separatists, Sir. Ventress has not been sighted on the front lines for a while, so he was aiming to fill a power vacuum."

"And you were saved by the sudden apparition of the Tatooine Rebels who, in your words, killed Krell to defend you."

"Yes, sir."

"And you care to explain why your military operations have paused?" Windu asked, and Rex's mouth fell open in shock at the change of topic.

"With all due respect, sir, we have just lost our Jedi general and my men are in no condition to fight at the moment, due to said Jedi officer going power-drunk and slaughtering us. Our numbers and morale have been severely impacted. We cannot move an assault now." Cody intervened, hoping that the reasoning would hold. "Furthermore, the Umbarans have suffered heavy damages to their military infrastructure and defenses due to SOLIRMO intervention. Basically, they can't defend and we can't attack. So they have asked for a truce."

"Because of the Tatooine Rebels. Who killed Krell. To defend you." Windu elencated, disbelief and distrust evident under his otherwise stoic demeanor. "Well, Commander, you will not be deprived of command for much longer. We have sent Kenobi and Skywalker to your position--"

"Rex!" the massive frame of Anakin Skywalker burst through the doors of the HQ, all limbs and blond hair making a beeline for the clone Captain and checking him up. "I heard on the way about Krell--is it true that he fell? How many people did he hurt among you? Are you okay?"

 

"I'm fine, General." Rex said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "Some minor injuries, but the Rebel medics attended to that."

"So they were here." drawled the Coruscanti accent of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi High General walking in himself shortly thereafter, with Ahsoka Tano in tow. Rex frowned at the sight. General Skywalker had always oscillated between intense, carefree, and high-strung, but there was a moodiness to General Kenobi and a nervousness to Commander Tano that was uncharacteristic to either of them.

"Well, maybe if the Council hadn't forbidden us from going to Tatooine and actually asking the people, I wouldn't have to attempt this wild goose chase around the Galaxy." General Skywalker said under his breath, but it was obvious that General Windu heard him.

"The Chancellor has declared the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance terrorists, Knight Skywalker, you know it as well as us. The only reason the Senate hasn't been able to take military action against them, and thus send us to Tatooine, is because both the Secessionist Faction, and the Peace Faction, through the Council of Neutral Systems, have systematically denied the Senate the majority required to do so."

"Perhaps we should focus on the positives of the current situation." General Kenobi interjected. "Our men have witnessed the Rebels and interacted with them, which means that they can tell us more than any other sentient we have interrogated during the course of our investigation."

"There's really not much more to it besides our report, sir." Coday said. "They came, they helped the men, discussed our material conditions, and that was it."

Of course, both Rex and Cody neglected to mention that the Jedi– and the Mandalorians, through the Fett kid, apparently– had told them they would harbor them and provide them with rights if they deserted, without asking anything in return. After Krell, it just… didn't feel right to discuss it with Jedi Command. 

 

-line break-

 

When Sidious read the report from Umbara, he nearly choked on his tea.

Nearly, because he was the Dark Lord. He had dignity. He had countenance. He could take the blow.

He could even take the Rebel Alliance declaring it would offer full rights and asylum to deserters of all sides, be they droid or clone. They were insignificant insects. Nuisances.

And he could even take that insolent Mandalorian Duchess declaring that she would declare clones Mandalorian citizens and pull them out of the war effort. If Separatist military efforts continued, the rest of the Galaxy would turn against her and her little Council of Neutral Systems, and Mandalore would starve to death under sanctions and the whole Mandalorian leadership arrested for the crime of sabotage. And fuck it, he could even take that Maul was still alive, and supposedly reformed and with no animosity towards Kenobi. It would make the Jedi Council go nuts about this revived Sith, and it would only make them take all heat off himself.

No, what really got Sidious to have an embolism was turning on the HoloNews and seeing Dooku in public once again, make the following announcement.

"Citizens of the Galaxy… I believe we can all be in agreement when I say that it is high time for a Republic-Confederacy peace treaty."

FFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Notes:

First chapter with beta! I wanna thank again Speaker_Astra for the help, hope this partnership will make all future chapters even better. Also, hope you liked this chapter, here's the teaser for the next one ;)

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER

"We must protest!" Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray spoke over the chaos in the Separatist Parliament. "We were promised a free market in embarking in this Confederation of Independent Systems!"
"Free for whom? For you and all the other corporate criminals leeching profit out of the hard work of our peoples?" Onderon Senator Mina Bonteri shouted, slamming her hand on her desk. "I say it's high time that the leadership of the Confederation resumed thinking about the good of the common people instead of feeding you and your friend's bottom line with countless invasions!"
Count Dooku was not a communist. At least, so he was sure of. He was a monarch, for Force's sake.
But Force damn him if making capitalists squirm didn't set fire to his blood and fill him with righteous pride.

Chapter 19: The Raxus Address

Summary:

Dooku has a lot to atone for. This, perhaps, can be the first step.
Or at least, it will piss Sidious off.

Notes:

I apologize for the delay. It's a short chapter, but I was busy with a political seminar and work, and life problems only made things harder. I wanted this to come out yesterday, on September 11th, to commemorate the US-led fascist coup against socialist Chilean President Salvador Allende in 1973. But I suppose it's not exactly connected, so it's not a problem. Still, I hope you like it! :)

Oh, btw, this chapter too was beta'd by wonderful Speaker_Astra

The Raxus Address

Raxus Secundus, Separatist Parliament Building

The Separatist Parliament Building was a dull and austere thing, repurposed from the ancient, cathedral-like residence of the planet's long-abolished monarchy. It towered above the skyline of the capital with all its spires, and the inhabitants had long been accustomed to seeing it as the rotten carcass of their democracy, from which their planetary Senators invited offworld industrialists to plunder the resources and riches of the land and its people.

Hope had been sparked in them three years prior when Count Dooku had chosen it as the site of his famous Raxus Address, denouncing the corruption of the Republic and its favoritism towards the Core Worlds. But little had changed since then. While the planetary's elected ruler--the selfsame corrupt Senator--had been ejected and the planet put under direct rule of the Separatist Parliament, the new legislature had proven incapable of remedying to the damage done. Indeed, the Separatist Council--made up of the Corporate Alliance, the Trade Federation, the Techno Union and all the other business conglomerates owning half the Galaxy--kept enjoying unlimited privileges in their contracts on the planet.

The people had protested, had marched in the streets, had petitioned Dooku: but the Separatist Head of State had seemed powerless and unable to even step foot again on the planet, and so the people's anger had gone back to simmering under their skin, even as they saw the scars of battle every day in the city while going about their daily lives. They had watched the fronts of shops busted open by fire and the walls of buildings still defaced by police blasterfire, and they had internalized their defeat.

At least, until Dooku's second Raxus Address.

"Citizens of the Galaxy… I believe we can all be in agreement when I say that it is high time for a Republic-Confederacy peace treaty." Dooku had said, commandeering the Parliament's channels when it was not in session. "This political crisis that separates us must be resolved politically. We cannot allow the profiteers of war to keep enriching themselves, bringing weapons not for justice but for robbery and murder not only on foreign worlds, but even on our own lands, our own soil, and our own homes. I count myself among the first who were led astray by them. But I promise you I shall correct this error, and aid all of those who wish to do so."

Jaws fell, glasses shattered, people rejoiced. The old Dooku had returned. And when the Separatist Parliament was convened again, its Senators had to walk among a populace that seemed calm only in appearance. No driver, worker, or passerby spoke one word to the Senators as they convened in a frenzy on Dooku's summons on Raxus. But the representatives could feel the energy in the air had changed, and they didn't need to be Jedi to do that.

For the people of Raxus Secundus now dared to look them in the eye.

-line break-

"...And this is why I propose that the Separatist Council be paired with by a special elected commission aimed at redirecting the Council's industrial and economic policy toward meeting the needs of our people, giving priority to those who have been hit the hardest by the crisis." Dooku finished his speech, sending the chamber into an uproar.

"We must protest!" Commerce Guild Presidente Shu Mai spoke over the chaos in the Separatist Parliament. "We were promised a free market in embarking in this Confederation of Independent Systems!"

"Free for whom? For you and all the other corporate criminals leeching profit out of the hard work of our peoples?" Onderon Senator Mina Bonteri shouted, slamming her hand on her desk. "I say it's high time that the leadership of the Confederation resumed thinking about the good of the common people instead of feeding you and your friend's bottom line with countless invasions!"

Count Dooku was not a communist. At least, so he was sure of. He was a monarch, for Force's sake. But Force damn him if making capitalists squirm didn't set fire to his blood and fill him with righteous pride.

"Gentlebeings, honourable Senators. I urge calm and moderation." Separatist Parliament Speaker Bec Lawise called over the shouting. "Keep in mind that this session is being broadcasted live, but regardless of that, we are representatives of Separatist democracy--we should not stoop to the same level of Republic squabbling!"

"Squabbling?" retorted Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation. "We have worked tirelessly to ensure our common goals. You can't derubricate us to the same level as the enemy."

"You have worked tirelessly to line your own pockets, that's for sure." said Quarren Senator Tikkes of the Mon Cala Separatist faction. "You have inundated us with your battle droids which have constantly failed to deliver, and are now being destroyed even in this armistice by the incompetence of General Grievous! I'm a businessman like you, Gunray, but anyone can see you Corporate Sector folks are fast becoming bad business""

"I can assure you all, my friends, we are in business here." Dooku spoke out once again. "We are in the business of righting wrongs. It's written in our constitutional Bylaws that the Confederacy must strive to be a better democracy than the Republic, not end up plagued by its same problems. And so I shall endeavor to make it. Too long I have advocated this role, blinded by war and false councils, but I say to you, no more." Dooku threw aside the line of his cape, uncovering his lightsaber for all to see and unclipping it from his belt. "I was a Jedi once. I may not be part of the Jedi Order anymore, long having it become corrupt and perverted by the Republic's interests. But I shall be a Jedi once more, dedicating myself to remedying my errors and seeking justice for those who have been wronged." he said, laying down his lightsaber on his podium. "And if anyone wishes to join me in doing so, or wishes to bring any such wrongs to my attention...well, I am here for you, my friends."

The image was the same from holoset to holoset, from small-size screens of personal datapads to the giant telescreens in the main squares of Raxus Secundus's capital where people had gathered to watch the proceeding. When Dooku had spoken, you could have heard a pin drop, the mounting tension permeating everything, every surface, every body, every molecule of air. And when Dooku finished his speech, you couldn't have heard anything, so loud was the roar of the crowd.

Dooku didn't need the Force to feel it, and neither did the Parliament. As he watched terror dawn on the face of Nute Gunray, Dooku was reminded of a time, many years before, when he had come to Raxus Secundus seeking to bring justice to those people...and failed. It had been one of the many, many steps in his long road down into the depths of Hell, and he had never managed, in the long nights where he tormented himself over the death of his Padawans and the murder of his friends, to understand if it had been one of the actually important steps. He hadn't chosen Raxus Secondus for his first address by chance, after all, and he hadn't chosen it by chance even now.

For if it was possible for this day, for this world to be one of his many, many steps back towards the light, well, he was going to make it one of the actually important ones.

Notes:

Can you tell I loved Tales of the Jedi? God, was that show underdeveloped. Anyways! I'm planning for next time a chapter with a little bit more meat on, both politically and story-wise/character-wise. Stay tuned, in the meantime I'll leave you with the usual...

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

"So you pulled some strings. You, or your friends." Padmé spoke in the comm, and Sabé smile was as dizzying as it was effortless.
"What makes you so sure of that?" she said. "The old man may just have had a change of heart."
"Somehow I doubt it."
"What about your old man? Did he have a change of heart too?" Sabé asked, and the corner's of Padmé's mouth turned downwards.
"What do you think?"

Chapter 20: Ripples

Summary:

Dooku's proclamation once again shocked the Galaxy. What do you do when your certainties are shattered?
Perhaps you could just go see a wrestling match.

Notes:

Never thought I'd say it...but I'm back! After job loss, breakups, depression spells, therapy, going back to studying, being busy with a lot of hectic organizing, here I am. This fic is gonna get finished, folks.

That morning Mos Eisley was abuzz with excitement. Foreigners had already come to Tatooine, particularly to help rebuild Tonra Marketplace and Mos Eisley. But this time it was different. Great ships had come, all bearing the red flag with a golden design of broken chains of the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance. The Provisional Revolutionary Government of Ryloth, the Night Tribe of Dathomir, the Wookie Council of Kasshyyk, the General Workers' Union of Corellia, the Peasant Organization of the Chommel Sector, the Kage Liberation Movement, the Repentance Association of Zygerria, the Droid Rights Party, the Free Government of Kessel, the Negotiations Table of Mandalore, the Freed Coalition of the Slice, and many more forces were assembling there for the first ASRA congress.

And it seemed to be more a festival than anything else.

Mandalorians and Tuskens performed religious spars for the onlookers, Nightsisters engaged in magick tricks for children, and Wookies and Ryloth Twi'Leks squared off in performances of their traditional dances for all audiences.

But the main attraction had been set up in the city square, on a great big qrestling ring.

Because it was, after all, a wrestling match.

"IT IS FRUITLESS TO TRY AND FIGHT ON, KA'LIR NI'AVERSA'AL" Maul bellowed as he slammed down Luke into the ring, holding their head between their legs their his right arm in his own hands. "YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THIS CHOKEHOLD! MY CYBERNETIC LEGS COULD CRUSH A MAN'S HEAD WITH THEIR THIGHS!"

The two Force-powerhouses were locked down, dressed in simplified and stylized versions of their SOLIRMO combat outfits. The crowd was in uproar around them, cheering them both and chanting their name like it was the toughest arena on Nar Shadaa.

"Don't let him defeat you this way, Ka'Lir!"

"The Mauler is too strong, he's got them in his Unbreakable Hold of the Steel Thighs!"

"Like Hell he is! Ka'Lir, show him what Tatooine people are made of!"

"YOU BELIEVE YOU ALREADY WON, BUT YOU FORGET A VERY SIMPLE THING, MAULER!" Luke bellowed in reply, before giving a thought command in the Force to a very simple circuit. "YOU FORGET THAT MY HAND, TOO, IS CYBERNETIC!"

"WHAT" cried out Maul. "WHAT MADNESS YOU SPEAK OF?"

"ROBOT HAND GO!" shouted Luke, and indeed, their robot hand went and shot itself off their wrist, hitting Maul in the chin and freeing their neck. The crowd cheered and shouted at the sight, Mandalorians and Zabraks calling out one side and Tatooinians and Tusken the other.

"THE MAULER HAS BEEN HIT!" the referee--Boba, of course, since he couldn't pick a side between his uncle and aman--called out. "KA'LIR IS FREE!"

Quick as lightning, Luke hopped back, fixing their hand back into their wrists before Maul jumped on them with a barrage of punches and kicks. Luke dodged, parried, caught, redirected, countered every blow, but so did Maul to their own. They picked up speed, darting from one side of the ring so fast that even the strongest warriors among the spectators had a hard time keeping up with their movements.

"CEASE THIS FOLLY, MAULER! THIS BATTLE IS FRUITLESS! YOU CANNOT COMPARE TO THE FORCE OF KA'LIR NI'AVERSA'AL, THE STARKILLER!"

"DO NOT TALK ME OF COMPARISON, STARKILLER! THE MAULER WAS BORN IN THE DESERTS OF DATHOMIR! HE HUNTED PREY IN THE JUNGLES OF DEVARON! HE ROASTED AND ATE IT IN THE VOLCANOES OF MUSTAFAR! THE MAULER CANNOT COMPARE, YES--BECAUSE NOBODY CAN COMPARE TO THE MAULER!"

The two broke, squaring off in a Corellian standoff.

"I COMPARE ALL I CAN, MAULER! I RIDE KRAYT DRAGONS THAT FLY! I STOMP ON A CRACK AND I MAKE A CANYON! I EAT SAND FOR BREAKFAST AND IT COMES OUT AS DIAMONDS!"

"DECLARATIONS! BLUSTER! YOU CANNOT DEFEAT THE MAULER, STARKILLER! I AM THE UNFETTERED! I HAVE EXPLODED MY RAGE INTO A HALBERD WITH WHICH TO DEFEND THE ABUSED! I AM RIGHTEOUS FURY IN BLACK, RED, AND HORNS!"

"ALL YOUR RAGE HAS GIVEN YOU IS A HALBERD! RIDICULOUS! MINE HAS GIVEN ME CLARITY OF PURPOSE, AND I HAVE HONED THE RESULTING PEACE OF MIND INTO A RAPIER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS WITH WHICH TO UPHOLD THE CAUSE OF THE OPPRESSED!

The crowd went wild at that. Luke and Maul once again lunged at each other, Luke dodging Maul's strikes and deciding to play on him the same trick they'd used on Dooku--drop into a handstand and use a kick to destabilize him.

"OH MY GOD!" Boba cried. "THE STARKILLER IS USING THE ONE-ARM DOUBLE-KICK! THE KICK OF THE T TURNED NINETY DEGREES!"

But Maul was ready for that. He let Luke's first kick hit him square in the chest, but then grabbed the second--and then picked them up right off the floor and started spinning on his feet.

"MAUL HAS CAUGHT IT AND IS SPINNING THEM! HE'S USING THE RECORD THROW! THE SENTIENT TORNADO OF PAIN!"

And throw Luke he did, right in the ring's ropes--but Luke spun mid-air, landing their feet in the ropes, and used their momentum to launch themself back at Maul with a flying tackle. It succeeded, and they rolled to the ground in a heap--but Maul managed to grab hold of Luke's mask and tear it off.

 as the two separated and regained their footing.

"AT LAST THE STARKILLER IS UNMASKED!" Maul cheered as the audience gasped. "WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT UNDER THE TERRIBLE MASK OF KA'LIR NI'AVERSA'AL STOOD NONE OTHER--THAN LUKE SKYWALKER?!?!?"

"BUT IT IS NOT MY MASK THAT GIVES ME POWER, MAULER!" Luke declared. "YOU HAVE JUST UNLEASHED MY TRUE FORM!"

"AND WHAT WOULD THAT BE?! WHAT IS YOUR SECRET WEAPON, SKYWALKER??"

"MY ANSWER IS ONE AND FOREVER!" Luke cried, and then smiled as they let their Force signature drop to zero--signaling to Maul that they were about to drop the mike, too. "I AM LUKE SKYWALKER," they shouted "AND I'M SUPERCOOL."

They let the speed do the talking. They ran at Maul, leaving only afterimages on the field as the crowd went nuts. Maul did the same, and the two darted from place to place on the ring, sending small shockwaves when they exchanged blows, the crowd's chanting growing wilder and wilder--until finally, the air in the center of the ring imploded, and there Luke and Maul stood, frozen in time for a moment, suspended in midair as their final punch hit each other's face.

And then that little moment burst into an explosion, air rushing outwards and sending them both flying into the ropes.

"AND IT'S A DDDRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWW!" Boba cried out, even as the uproar from the croud seemed to cancel out all the loudspeakers. "SENTIENTS AND SAPIENTS, WE HAVE THE TWO STRONGEST WARRIORS OF THE REBEL ALLIANCE!" he declares, as Luke and Maul roae from their downed position to shake hands. "UNPARALLED, INVINCIBLE, INCAPABLE OF BEING DEFEATED EVEN BY EACH OTHER! THE MASTER OF TERÄS KÄSI AND THE RULER OF TATOOINE BARROOM BRAWLS! THE UNSTOPPABLE FORCE AND THE IMMOVABLE OBJECT! THE BEST OF THE BEST, THE GREATES OF THE GREATEST--AND YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT, DANK FARRIK!"

 

-line break-

 

"DANK FARRIK!" Anakin shouted, punching the monitor. Ahsoka sighed. She and her Master had gone to the lengths of finally cracking a broadcast from Tattooine in their ship's room--weirdly enough, it seemed it was the Coruscant networs that were doing the obscuring, and the Tatooine ones seemed full of unfiltered information and entertainment--and now he was almost destroying their only means to watch it.

"Master, please, that thing costs an arm and a leg." she said as Anakin rattled off a list of curses in Huttese, then Rodian, then Naboo and finally in his native language. "And I doubt your arm would fetch a nice price, since it's a used prosthetic."

"Har har." Anakin scowled at her. "Do you have any idea about the quality of prosthetics on Tatooine, Ahsoka?"

"No?..."

"Well, my arm is state-of-the-art Naboo tech. You could buy a full exoskeleton on Tatooine with the sum it would sell for there."

"Well according to the news they publish there healthcare is actualy free now--"

"Yeah, they've made it free--and does that give them the right to behave like a clown?!" Anakin snapped. "They're using MY name, Ahsoka, with a costume and moniker I created as a kid!"

"I mean, more proof you're related?..."

"There's no way they could know. Not unless they visited my mother after...after she was freed." Anakin's voice stumbled for a moment, and then the youth balled his hands into fists. "They took my dream, stole it from me, made it come true without a care in the world, and then they turned into a--a wrestling persona?"

"Um, I actually like wrestling?" Ahsoka objected. "And besides, so seemed all the kids there. That Starkiller thing and costume, Skyguy, you invented them as a kid--doesn't it feel good that they're bringing joy to more kids?"

"I don't know, I..." Anakin slumped against the wall. "It should have been me. But why wasn't it?" he said, and slid down onto the cold metal floor. "Why didn't I do it myself? They freed Tatooine in what? A month? Two? I had that much downtime between missions at the Temple! I could have just taken a shuttle and flown there myself. I could have..."

"Skyguy--Anakin, please." Ahsoka hopped down from her bunk and embraced Anakin. "You're what, twenty? You were a kid, and you'd barely started training. That person, Luke, is way older than you. Almost as old as you and me combined. And it took them a long time too, to pull off your same dream. So you can't blame yourself, alright?"

Anakin shook his head. "It's not that easy, Snips. The Council keeps saying I'm supposed to be the Chosen One, I'm supposed to bring balance to the Force...I'm supposed to be the strongest."

"Skyguy, you are the strongest." Ahsoka put a hand on his shoulder. "You're holding all of this together despite all the pressure it must be, especially for someone who's not Temple-raised."

Anakin looked at her, unsure. "You really think so?"

"You bet your robot hand I do, Skyguy." Ahsoka smiled. "You're the strongest I know."

 

-line break-

 

"Strongest my ass." A'Sharad Hett commented in the locker room, as Ventress and Korian were putting ointment on Maul and Luke's respective bruises. "I am the other Ka'Lir, Maul. And I could mop the floor with you anytime."

"Do not be so sure of that, Hett. You are welcome to try eny time. Even now if you see fit to--OW!" Maul winced as Ventress slapped a particularly red bruise that had formed on his back. "What's the big idea, woman?!"

"We don't want to get late to the opening session of the Congress, Maul." Ventress replied, giving him a look. "So don't pick fights you're not sure you can win."

"Feral has told me something of the Tatooine life. Savage is now wishing to study the Tusken fighting arts." Maul smiled. "Hett might be a better soldier and a warrior to his tribe, and I may not have trained with the Nightbrothers due to Sidious, but I was indeed trained by the man...and not only in Teräs Käsi."

"Yeah you've taught me that well enough." Luke massaged their neck and felt a joint pop. "Stars, I'm getting old."

"Well, your waist has indeed widened a couple inches since we first met, Skywalker..."

"Well, this match has sure led me to burn some of those carbs then--"

"Nonsense." Maul's brown eyes cut into them like a knife. "That's muscle distortion. He gave it to you together with those branching scar patterns, didn't he? Force lightning will do that to you."

Luke sighed. "Well, I suppose you get pretty good at reading injuries when your former job is inflicting them."

"Spare me the jokes, Skywalker. I'd never use Force lightning."

"Why not?" Korian said. "It's pretty powerful, from what I know."

"It's supposed to be the utmost corruption of the Force." A'Sharad said, shifting slightly. "Hatred and rage made form."

Korian frowned, and looked at Luke. "But you..."

"Except it's not that clear-cut." Ventress said, and looked at Luke straight in the eye. "On Chelli Minor, lightning flew into the volcano, striking the lava as you spoke with Dooku." she said, and Luke stared back at her, their blue eyes guarded and unblinking.

"And that lightning was green."

Luke blinked. And then a smile crossed their face. "Would you believe that I've found a loophole?

 

-line break-

 

"I can't believe this shit." said Mace Windu when he woke up that morning.

When news of Dooku's peace proclamation broke to the Republic, it seemed as if everything seemed to stop in shock. Nobody quite knew how to take it. And when the Jedi Council session to discuss it came, it seemed as if nobody quite knew what to say.

In the old chamber the clock kept ticking, its noise only serving it to heighten the atmosphere of akward uncertainty now that the thick silence finally made it audible.

"Well," Plo Koon spoke up in the end, a faint smile behind his breathing mask, "It seems that our communist friends have scored a resounding success."

Mace Windu raised a tired eyebrow. "Just because they managed to push Dooku to exhaustion before we befell the same fate doesn't make them our friends, you know."

"But right he is," said Yoda, "To end the war, our goal was. Many Jedi have we lost already trying to end it by fighting, and peace now Dooku seeks. Fought against the party responsible for this victory, we have not. And so, a resounding success this is for us."

"Master Yoda..." Obi-Wan could feel a headache incoming. "It doesn't really solve the problem, does it? Dooku seeks a peace treaty to salvage the CIS, so the Republic is still fractured. And the communists, the SOLIRMO rebels and their Rebel Alliance friends, have fractured it into yet a third entity. And they keep fracturing it still, given the worlds they manage to entice into supporting them."

Yoda hmmmed. "You speak of your trip to Mandalore, yes? Of your divergence with your friend the Duchess Kryze, yes?"

Obi-Wan swallowed. It was one thing to call Satine his friend, or call her like that to Anakin, who always seemed to understand and never judge, but Yoda's way of saying it was little different from him saying out loud 'I know, and I want you to know I know'. But in the end he simply said: "Yes."

"Read the report I have. Grave the economic situation of Mandalore is. Seek solutions Duchess Kryze does, and even with the Hutts, the Chancellor made deals. Her decisions, I see as an improvement."

"...I guess."

"Us, on the other hand, are faced with a conundrum." Mace cut in again, sighing and rubbing his forehead. "Do we trust Dooku on this? It could be a ploy. Deception is, after all, the way of the Sith."

"Is it really?" Shaak Ti interjected. "We have accepted our Clone Army despite it having been created in secret by Sifo-Dyas. And can we count how many battles--especially those of Knight Anakin Skywalker--were won throught the deception of a false surrender?"

"In all those cases Anakin led us to win, Master Ti." Obi-Wan retorted, and Ti turned her eyes on him.

"Indeed, Master Kenobi. You trained him well. We all remember your plan at Christophis making use of that same tactic." she replied, and Obi-Wan had to bite his tongue. She was right. "We too are stained with war crimes and the dark side. The use of child soldiers--"

"Now hang on--"

"Let her speak, Master Kenobi." Plo Koon spoke up. "Me and Master Ti have been busy on Kamino, investigating on the cloner's work. The issue of clones is very nebulous...and it is a moral ambiguity that weighs on our ability to remain in the light."

Thick silence fell over the room. Obi-Wan swallowed. Yoda leaned on his cane, a glint curiosity in his eyes. Windu let his head fall into his hands. He didn't want to deal with this tangent.

"Then what?" Agen Kolar protested. "Are we going to start questioning the use of droids, too?"

"The strikes by the Droid Army seem to be sowing this kind of doubts in our enemy, actually." Depa Billaba countered. "Soon we'll have to face this problem ourselves."

"The clones have been great warriors. And they are people, too." said Saesee Tinn. "We cannot afford to lose them like the CIS is losing droids."

"We all know that. But to talk of slavery would mean stoking the same ideas that the communists have been spreading." said Ki-adi Mundi. "And the Senate would not like that."

"We cannot be sure about that." Adi Gallia remarked. "Senator Amidala has presented a bill to enfranchise the Clone army as full citizens. I'm sure you've all heard mutterings about it among the common soldiery."

"And how has the Chancellor reacted to this, Master Gallia?" asked Oppo Rancisis.

"He has dodged the question, Master Rancisis. The Chancellor seems uninterested in discussing anything beyond war matters."

"Yeah, but he has stopped convening his advisory council to discuss those matters beyond Senate discussions." said Kit Fisto. "We're respecting the office of the Chancellor--but the Chancellor is not respecting us back."

"Republic High Command has seldom met, too, as of late. The Chancellor seems to be dealing with war matters directly with increasing frequence." Rancisis commented. "I have scarcely had occasion to talk to him. But difference of vision shouldn't imply disrespect."

"How can you say that when he disregards your own advisory role, too, Master Rancisis? This is not how things used to be. This is not the way Jedi have been doing things for generations."

"Well, what do you want us to do about that?" Mundi interjected. "We can't force him to be 'nicer' to us. He's been elected, he's been voted into his powers."

"From a certain point of view you might say he's been accumulating those powers." said Obi-Wan under his breath, and only Adi Gallia seemed to care.

"That might not be for long, though..." she murmured, and nobody but Obi-Wan paid any attention to her.

"I'd like to remark that I wasn't alone on that council. There was Master Unduli, too. She's been gone for weeks and there's been no investigation on that--and now her Padawan has vanished, too." Kit Fisto snapped. "I asked the Chancellor if he'd heard anything or planned to do anything to help us find her--do you know what he told me? He told me there were 'more pressing matters' using up Republic resources. In a ceasefire!" Fisto slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair. "And at the same time he wasted men and money on that idiot Krell!"

"Control yourself, Master Fisto!" Rancisis called him out. "This is no tone for a Jedi. And Krell was one of us."

"He killed clones, in case you haven't forgotten, Master Rancisis." Obi-Wan protested. "He killed my men, and my Padawan's."

"And Dooku was one of us too, and look how he turned out." grumbled Kolar, while the room descended into chaos.

"He was still a Jedi and thus a Jedi problem." Mundi replied. "You want to condone the actions of those terrorists, Kenobi?"

"You'd rather my men had killed him in self-defense risking court-martial and execution, Master Mundi?"

"May I remind you, Kenobi, that Krell's killer is the selfsame Sith Lord you failed to kill on Naboo?"

"I'd cut him in half!"

"And clearly too low!"

"Master Jinn was dying!"

"Since when we let death make us emotional, Kenobi?"

"I was a Padawan!"

"And it clearly shows in the job you did!"

"Fine--who cares?! I'd have killed Krell myself if I'd been there!" Obi-Wan burst out, and the room gasped. "What? What would you have done, to protect our men?"

"They were clones, not civilians." Rancisis protested. "Can you replace a Jedi, Kenobi? With how few there are of us to help in this war?"

"There wasn't even supposed to be a battle. We didn't have the resources." Windu said through gritted teeth, and then let out a tired breath. "Look. We've gone way, way off track. The peace talks were the item at hand."

"If they are going to happen at all." Tinn grumbled.

"They are." Gallia replied. "Senators on both sides are pushing for them, Dooku--the communists have thrown their hat into the ring, too."

"You mean they've pushed Duchess Kryze into agreeing with them."

"I'd like for the damage to be limited to that, Master Kenobi, but unfortunately it's not. My network of contacts says that there are various other Republic planets ready to sit at the table if they do. Karlinus for example--Representative Wald has quite an influence over the worker's movement in the planetary chamber, and he is openly a communist sympathizer. Representative Antilles of Corellia, too, Suyan Higin of Naboo--rumors are that even Riyo Chuchi has been in contact with them to learn more about Tatooine's cohabitation with the warlike, primitive Tusken species, given Pantora's history with the Talz. Seems that even Shili owes them a debt, over an unspecified issue with Zygerria."

"Not exactly big names."

"Perhaps. But they could tip the balance. The way I see it, politics is at the forefront, whether we like it or not."

"Precisely. The status quo is being shaken again and again." Mundi pointed out. "And we had ensured stability for over a thousand years before this."

"And some of us have been around for some of those ten centuries, even sitting on this very Council. In remembering that you might understand why we think such an accomplishment shouldn't simply be cast aside." Rancisis added, and cast a look at Yoda, expecting him to agree--but Yoda remained silent.

"I understand this point of view, Masters. It's agreeable." Gallia replied. "But the facts are that we can't force things to go back to how they were with our lightsabers. Other forces, using other methods, have gotten the better of us."

"One year of war and we are being trumped by unknown upstarts with one or two Jedi in their numbers, yes." Kolar said, and Mundi threw him a look.

"Not just any Jedi, though. I could recognize A'Sharad Hett a mile away in those rebel broadcasts." he said. "And with my wayward apprentice there's the other one--the mysterious other Skywalker, who seems to be as powerful as our own, if not more, and apparently--apparently--has ended up turning both Dooku and Maul away from the dark. If they managed to sway such powerful Force-users to their side, it's hardly surprising that they're turning so many worlds to it too."

"You think they're doing it with the Force?" Windu asked.

"Who knows? Dooku said that the Senate was manipulated by the Sith. Maybe he was lying--but what if he wasn't, and such things were really possible?"

"Then dead, we would all be." Yoda finally spoke up. "None of us can stand together with the Jedi of old, who fought with the ancient Sith. Crush us, they would."

"Except they are not." Adi Gallia remarked, and was met with skeptic looks--the lone exception being, once again, Yoda.

"And how would you know, Master Gallia?" Rancisis questioned.

Gallia drummed her fingers on the armrest. "I've followed up on Jedi Skywalker's reports. Met these radicalized people and their sympathizers in the Republic's ranks. And you know what the scary part is?" she asked. "These communists don't need the Force to turn them to their side. The people on their side just think they're making a smarter choice with them, because they promise to fix their most pressing problems by changing the structure and basis of society...and they usuay do."

"When hungry someone is, gladly arms they'll take up to eradicate the source of that hunger." Yoda elaborated.

"So, in synthesis, these rogue Jedi have us beat in the eyes of the public because they've embraced politics." Windu rubbed his face, tired. "Populists, just like Dooku. And damn effective because of that."

"Right I think Master Gallia is." Yoda spoke again. "Populists we might need not be. But understand what the needs of those that make up the Republic are, we could, and we should. Understand the most pressing needs and those of the majority. And if help us stop the war and clear the Republic of the influence of the dark side helping the people with addressing those needs does, then take that course we should."

"Then I move we give an explorative mandate to those of us most versed in the matters of the Senate: Master Fisto, Master Gallia and Master Kenobi." said Oppo Rancisis. "Perhaps, by listening to the mood of the people, they'll be able to chart for us a course that the Force itself wasn't able to help us divine."

Windu took no note of Rancisis's slight tinge of sarcasm and raised his hand. "All in favor?"

There was hardly a hand that stayed down.

 

-line break-

 

There was hardly a hand that stayed down when it was time to ratify the founding document of the Rebel Alliance at the end of the first day of its Congress, after all the speeches by its leaders. The problems started in the second day.

"What is this scum doing at the table?" Cham Syndulla rose up, pointing at Ventress. "Skywalker, explain!"

"What's the matter, Syndulla--I thought you'd read the requirement of each delegation needing to send two spokespeople of different gender." Ventress smirked. "And I'm here representing Dathomir."

"She is a Separatist" Supreme Chieftain Grachawwaa of Kashyyyk commented. "She is Dooku's assassin and right hand woman."

"And what if the Count has turned over a new leaf, hmm?" Ventress replied. "Would that suprise you?"

"Unlikely." bit back Syndulla, but a chuckle from the Mandalorian ambassador, Bo-Katan Kryze, stopped him from commenting further.

"We can all have a change of heart, General. You're sitting here with Zygerrians and a former Sith."

"A society changing from bloodlusters and slavers to friends and comrades is far more understandable than an individual--mainly because the crimes of a society and those of an individual are a very different thing."

"For the record," Dol Marsel of the Zygerria Repentance Association spoke up, "I'd like to say that while we appreciate the compliment from General Syndulla, Mr. Maul and Ms. Ventress have showed great dedication to the Alliance, as their reports can attest."

Syndulla sat back in his chair with a grunt. "I suppose the next thing you're going to tell me is that you're the ones responsible for Dooku's change of heart."

Luke cleared their throat. "Well, actually..."

Syndulla's eye twitched. 

Luke shrugged. "I mean, it happened when I called you on the Falcon and revealed you my true identity."

Syndulla grit his teeth. "Before or after?"

"...Both?..."

For a moment, Cham Syndulla looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Then he got up from his chair, went to the side of the room, and screamed into a wastebin. And everybody had the decency to at least look awkward after that, until Syndulla returned to his chair at the roundtable with a sigh.

"Moving on."

"He's actually the one who financed the reconstruction work we had to do after the Republic's destabilization attempts." Luke went on. "Out of his own pocket."

Syndulla rubbed his face. "Just...how did you do that?"

Again, Luke shrugged. "He was a former Jedi. He was misguided, led on the wrong path. When I went to Chelli Minor to steal the Separatist battle codes, we had a duel, I won, and I showed him the right path."

"Je'tii osik," mumbled the other Mandalorian ambassador--the contested 'Mandalor the Resurrector', whispers had said, whose armor eerily resembled Luke's memory of their original timeline's Boba Fett in both colors and gadgetry. "You can always count on them to flip the goddamn deck."

"I've seen Ka'Lir Ni'aversa'al convince all manners of people, Generals" Oola commented from the Ryloth delegation. "If they convinced the apathetic and the spineless from the worst dredges of Tatooine, I say we trust them on Ventress and Dooku as we trusted them with Maul." she said, and finally Syndulla gave a grunt of assent.

"I suppose now Dooku is going to ask us pointers on collective ownership and workers' self-management." BT-45 of the Free Coalition of the Slice said without an ounce of sarcasm.

"He's looking into a trade deal which will give special privilege to the ASRA--and allow us to quietly spread the Alliance's ideas through technical knowhow exchanges." Ventress explained. "My...teacher is not a fool. He knows he will have to answer for the destruction this conflict wrought to many of the people here...for example Kashyyyk and Ryloth."

<It is a beginning, and so we shall give him the chance to prove himself until the end.> Grachawwaa commented. <But we cannot say if the people will be satisfied. Not ours...even less those of the Republic.>

"Well, we'll give him a chance first." Luke commented. "In the meanwhile...I move to adjourn for a break. So that we can rest a bit, reflect and prepare ourselves for the next order of business, which is, ah..."

"Organizing a commission to organize joint and unitary ideological exchanges for the purposes of gathering a shared, if diversified, understanding of socialism in theory and praxis." A'Sgarad read right off the day plan. "Followed by organizing commissions to organize a unitary military force, a unitary trade agency, a unitary economic planning commission, the petition of the Tayan League to join...Yes, I suppose we can all use the break."

Nobody complained. They cleared out the room, Luke wincing as they walked. "Damn, Maul, you really slammed me hard on that ring, huh?"

"Not my fault you Humans have such brittle bones." the Zabrak smirked before turning serious again. "But seriously, Skywalker. I know what it's like to be electrocuted by Sidious. You've suffered Force Lightning that should have killed you ten times over and you've been pulped by Durge, by Cad Bane, by the Zygerrian arenas...Force healing can't cut it. You need to spend a month in bacta, or twelve."

"If I had the time, I surely would." Luke winced. "You think I like living this dangerously?"

"No, but you keep doing it. You keep putting yourself on the frontline have more grey hair than when we first met. Not many, but enough for me to understand you're not planning on surviving your own revolution."

"I thought you'd appreciate me being on the frontlines, Maul. You're a warrior."

"I do. The Nightbrother in me relishes that. But you also gave me people to lead and brought me brothers that I..." Maul scowled, pausing, but then forced out: "...I admit I haven't been the best at being a brother to. And then there's the kid." Maul nodded toward the corridor, where Boba was chatting with 'Mandalore the Resurrector'. It was an uncanny image to Luke. Boba Fett talking to himself.

For a moment their brain rattled at the thought. They'd known Mandalorians, they'd known Mandalores. They had seen Shira Brie crumble with Fenn Shysa and had helped liberate Mandalore with him and Din Djarin and Boba Fett. And there Boba Fett was scarred, messed up by the sarlacc, struggling to be a better man after his life with the Tuskens. He had looked old and bitter and mean and cruel and jovial and that didn't square up at all with the cold, no-nonsense killer who'd kidnapped Han and forced them to fight for their life in old Ben's house on Tatooine, nor neither of those images aquared up with the child they had persuaded to let go of his hate and learned to care for in those months.

But this Mandalore...he gave Luke chills. That same visage, that same armor, that same stance. And Boba was happily talking with him as it was nothing big.

Cautios, Luke decided to approached them, casually followed by Maul. The two Mandalorians were talking in their language, but as soon as they walked by, Boba turned and beamed at them. "Aman, Uncle! Have you met Spar? He's a clone like me!"

"I could have guessed from the fashion sense." chuckled Luke, while Mandalore the Resurrector just took off his helmet and revealed...well, basically the Boba Fett Luke remembered, only younger and with hair, and way less scars.

"Do you always take everything so lightly, Skywalker?" he asked, terse.

"I try not to be grim. Force knows there's already too much darkness in this Galaxy."

"Hmmm." Spar said, squinting at them. "You know, the spectacle you two put on today was ridiculous." he added, and Maul laughed.

"The Mauler is a man of the people. He gives the people what they want." he said and fist-bumped Boba. "Besides, little Boba here enjoyed himself seeing his uncles fight. Sometimes you just gotta remember yourself that fighting can be fun, you know? That it can be a sport, done for its own sake."

"Isn't that what being Mandalorian is about, too?" Boba said. "At least, that's what Father used to say."

"Why do you think I copied his armor?" Spar said. "I know what Mandalorian meant to that man and what Mandalore meant to him, despite how they chased him off planet. And knowing you won the Darksaber from that idiot Viszla...well, makes me feel like he got vindicated." he continued, and then looked back at Luke and Maul. "And I suppose it's only fair that I thank you two lunatics for knocking some sense in those pacifists, too. You've done more for the legacy of Jango Fett than a whole army of clones, despire having never know him."

Luke smiled, but they felt a painful tug at the corners of their mouth as they did. "I am an orphan, too. I know what it's like to have nothing, and I know the meaning of the scars I bear on my roots." they reached for Boba's hand, squeezing it tight with a slight smile. "I like to show off, if it can bring a smile to the face of those I care for. But I fight only if necessary."

"Je'tii osik." said Spar again, though this time with a shrug. "I'm justglad I could meet one of my brothers again thanks to you." Spar added, extending a hand to Luke. "You knocked some sense into that aristocrat Kryze and some fear into the hearts of those Republic slavers. But we still have much work to do...and I hope that all my brothers can be freed from the yoke of the Republic and come live freely on Mandalore."

"Or Tatooine." added Boba, Luke echoing him as they shook Spar's hand.

"You could come visit. Our Supercommandos are nothing to sneeze at, and I bet that Dala or Shysa could teach you some moves."

Luke could only keep smiling at that last name. How could they explain to Spar that they knew those names already, that they'd sat with Fenn Shysa under the ruins of Mindor and listened to him recount the death of the man he'd always known as a truer Boba Fett than the true one Luke had fought, a liberator of his people who died fighting against the Empire?

How could they explain to Spar that they knew all his story already, that they knew the day and place of his death, and the day and place of the deaths of his friends? That Shysa would follow him in death, and with him Boba, desperately fighting at the mountains of madness the day that Sidious won? That Boba, the bright, cheery kid who was so happy to get to know him, in another timeline was an older and bitter man who died protecting his friend and choking out his name, that little four-letter word that was both a noun and a verb, between the blood and the tears?

They could not.

And so they just told them: "We will visit. And we will free your brothers, Spar." Luke said, and added: "Trust me--Palpatine will be fuming soon."

 

 

-line break-

 

Palpatine was fuming. And since it was visible on the otherwise always-amiable Chancellor's face, it meant Sidious was bursting with rage. He could take Krell dying and the Umbara front failing. If anything, he could spin it into an attempt by the communists on the very life of the Republic--questioning its army, killing its Jedi, and openly trying to manipulate them towards their politics. He could spin it all into an excuse for continuing hostilities.

What he couldn't take was the Senate and the Jedi having none of it.

"We're considering it." of all the people he was expecting to hear say that, Padmé Amidala would never have been one of them.

"Really." he said, trying to keep his mask up and let the anger he was feeling curdle into poison behind his smile. There wasn't only Amidala in the room--there were Jedi Masters Adi Gallia and Kit Fisto and Senators Organa and Mothma. One of the Order's most conservative Jedi, and the three most esteemed Senators from the Core. Fools, but not blind fools.

"We are also considering it, Chancellor." Fisto said. "We Jedi have grown tired. We've lost many of our own over this war, and many more lives of soldiers and innocents. Soon there'll be too few of us to fight."

"And war has hardly helped us fix the schism plaguing the Republic." Adi Gallia added. "As Senator Amidala can attest, half the Galaxy distrusts both the Jedi and the Republic more and more, as the days go by. We are the face of injustice, inaction, and violence."

"And are not the CIS's armies the same? How many planets have been liberated by your efforts, and how many more are still cruelly subjugated by their droids?" Sidious asked, and raised an eyebrow at Amidala. "I must admit I did not expect this, Senator. You know all too well who we're dealing with. Our world still bears the scars of Separatist occupation, and you yourself still bear the scars of Count Dooku. How can you now turn and expect reasonableness from such people?"

For a moment, the young Senator shrank. Sidious cherished that small movement of shame in her--he'd been her mentor, after all, and if this young upstart was going to try and cut him down, he'd just have to teach her political lessons worthy of his role.

"It's true, Chancellor." Amidala spoke. "I know all too well what our opponent is capable of. But I also know that it is fractured, divided. Dooku's sudden concern of social justice can be useful to us, in order to tear away more progressive worlds from the CIS and back into Republic fold without any blood being shed. If Dooku really cares more about them than the corporate money that's backed the CIS since day one, he'll have to make more concessions--until he has no legs to stand on anymore, and he'll be forced to accept our terms and be tried for his role in the war."

Oh? So Sidious had underestimated her. The girl had kept studying.

"It is a cunning strategy, Senator. But these people, however well-intentioned, are all traitors. We cannot give more leeway to the powerful than that we give to our citizens or military."

"Indeed, Chancellor. That is why we also propose you sponsor our Clones' Rights bill, and reactivate the regulations on the IGBC." Amidala replied with a smile. "Therefore, the inequalities of our system will begin to be addressed, and we can deal with the more progressive Separatists from a position of both moral superiority and superior material standing with the people."

Damn, she'd gotten good. But he couldn't have a Senator speaking like a communist in the Senate.

"Well, I promise you I will discuss all of this at the next cabinet meeting. See how feasible it is." he smiled like a warm grandfather, shaking her hand. "I must thank you, Senator. You'd given me a lot to think about."

Yes, yes she had.

And thus he'd have to kill her.

 

-line break-

 

One week later, Padmé Amidala watched her Clone's Rights bill be voted down in the Senate Chamber. 

"The rejection motion passes by 60% majority," noted Vice Chair Mas Amedda. "The Republic cannot afford to pay stipend and to include in the workforce after military service sentients who are property of the State. Further discussion, according to the Chancellorship, is unadvisable. We do not yet know how long the war will last, nor the nature of future policing and security operations when the CIS will be reannexed. Therefore, talks of how and if to decommission what is to date our only standing army should be postponed to such a later date."

Padmé felt sick to her stomach. Dooku had made it look so easy. She turned off her podium, retreating to the corridors. She dialed the secure number.

"Hello, Padmé." Sabé's voice answered. "Tough day at work?"

"They voted down the bill, Sabé. Anakin's bill."

"Bastards, all of them."

"I just...can't understand it, Sabé. I wish I could get my hands on some of them and...well."

"Sue Mina Bonteri for plagiarism while you're at it. She's introduced a similar bill for droids in the Separatist Parliament and Dooku is sponsoring it." Sabé said, and Padmé laid against the wall right next to her.

"So you pulled some strings. You, or your friends." Padmé spoke in the comm, and Sabé smile on the end of the line was as dizzying as it was effortless.

"What makes you so sure of that?" she said. "The old man may just have had a change of heart."

"Somehow I doubt it."

"What about your old man? Did he have a change of heart too?" Sabé asked, and the corner's of Padmé's mouth turned downwards.

"What do you think?"

"You tell me."

"The bill was voted down, Sabé. Lately, we have been able to pass only bills Palpatine sponsor himself. So you make two plus two."

"I can make you something better than that, Padmé." Sabé replied. "You remember the tea we used to drink together?"

Padmé felt a tremor in her hand. She wiped a tear from her eye. "I'd really like that. You still live at the old apartment?"

"Not much. Too busy going from safehouse to safehouse. But I am here in it right now for a break. I needed it...and you sound like you need one too?"

"Yes," Padmé let the tears fall as Sabé's voice hugged her. "I could really use one."

"I'll wait for you. Text me when you're close so I can put the kettle on."

"Alright." said Padmé as she went to her office to get changed. But then the cold knife of her role and the sides they were on cut through the warmth of the friendship they shared, and she added: "When Luke Skywalker comes, we will not be negotiating at your place." she said, voice hardening. "We'll do it at mine."

Notes:

And here we go again, beloved readers. You thought this fic would abandon the sillyness? As Luke once said in Return of the Jedi before committing elderly abuse and assaulting the disabled: "NEVER-R-R-R!"
Jokes aside, I'm really happy to be back in the saddle. I've been reading your comments over the months, and it absolutely amazes that this fic continues to wow and delight people. You deserve to see it through to the end, and you will.
Love you all.

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

Anakin walked through the smokes, sparks and flaming appliances and sofa of his wife's apartment, heart racing with fear. He could feel her presence moving away, but he couldn't pinpoint her. Where was she being taken? What had happened here?
He could see Dormé, Typho...unconscious, or straight up dead?
Fear just kept building in the pit of his stomach.
Color drained from his face as he seemed to see her broken body strewn across the floor, next to an unknown corpse with smoke coming out of its chest.
"Padmé!" he cried, and knelt by her, tears welling up in his eyes, grabbing her shoulders and noticing the gapong wound in her stomach.
"Force, I hate when this happens." the corpse right next to him sit up as he was doing so, smoking chest and all. Anakin just stared in horror. It was...himself?

Chapter 21: A cape and a mask and a name

Summary:

The day for negotiating has come. Padmé Amidala and Luke Skywalker will finally meet face to face. The rebels seem to hold the knife by the handle...but the Republic has a few more tricks up its sleeve.

Notes:

And here we are, right on schedule as promised. Ready for a riveting new chapter?

"Padmé, please, you're pacing holes into the floor."

Padmé Amidala's eyes darted to her childhood friend, sitting across from her in the sofa in the living space of her penthouse apartment, flanked by Gregor Typho and Dormé--all the bodyguards she had trusted to be present at the meeting they were waiting to start.

"And you're awfully relaxed," Padmé remarked, trying to swallow the bitter taste of her following words, "For a hostage."

Sabé shrugged and kept cleaning her blaster. "I'm a willing hostage. Collateral."

"Can we not do this? Could it have been anybody else in your place?"

"You're my friend, Padmé. I'm here to ensure your trust and your safety, regardless of us being on opposing sides." Sabé replied, and Padmé sighed.

"This whole week is ridiculous." she said. "It's ridiculous. Count Dooku being more reasonable than Chancellor Palpatine, our countryman, our inspirator..."

"Yours, maybe." Sabé retorted, and Padmé tried to calm the twitch in her hands.

"We've been waiting long enough. Your negotiator is not going to show up." she stated...right as the doorbell rang. Sabé just raised her eyebrows in feigned surprise. Typho and Dormé's hands went to their blasters. "Through the front door? Really?"

"I will go look, Senator." Dormé stated. She walked to the door slowly, hand itching closer and closer to the door...and it was a cleaner, mop and cart in hand.

"Hello." the green-skinned Togruta remarked. For a moment, he seemed awfully familiar to Padmé, but Dormé prevented her from asking questions with one of her own.

"What are you here for? We haven't asked for cleaning services."

"Must be a mistake." the Togruta gave her a smile--and the bin on his cart popped open, an unruly blond mop flopping out.

"Force, was it tight in there!" the Human exclaimed, hoisting themself up out of the bin and waltzing past a flabbergastered Dormé as the Togruta retreated outside as if nothing had happened, closing the door behind him. "I know I'm short but not that short, Sabé. Tell me the truth, you wanted to get back at me with this plan for last week's uncomfortable situation."

Sabé just snorted. "Spare us the theater, Luke. Nothing is going to put Padmé at ease, unfortunately."

Luke. Padmé looked at the Human in front of her, now extending a gloved hand for her to shake. They looked like an older version of Anakin through a distorted mirror, as if she was taking a peek at a future that never was. The Human was shorter, leaner than Anakin, with greying blonde hair that struggled not to keep falling over their forehead and ears, a stronger jaw and scarred skin, dressed in simple spacer attire, with a blaster hanging over their brown Corellian pants and a puffy yellow jacket. Would Anakin have become like that, if he'd left the order for her and just followed his dreams of being a mechanic or a racer?

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator. On behalf of the free government and people of Tatooine, the Socialism and Liberation Movement, and the Anti-Slavery Rebel Alliance, I wish to do anything in my power to put your mind at ease over negotiations with Count Dooku and the Separatist government."

Padmé took their hand but gave it only a cautious shake. "I know the Separatist leadership. What makes you think you have anything to add to make possibility of talks materialize?"

Luke Skywalker--Gods, it felt so weird to even think of this name--merely smiled. "Me and Count Dooku have a personal relationship that the Count values very much. And since you're renowned for your ability and empathy in managing your personal relationships in such a way that it aids your political efforts for the greater good, you should see the value in this fact, Senator Amidala."

"I see." Padmé motioned for the sofas. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Skywalker gave a short bow, and sat themselves right next to Sabé. "I realize you may have questions." they said, still smiling, though now Padmé could see that there was more than politeness to it..the smile was tight in some corners, as if full of sadness. 

Yes, there were many questions. Many personal ones, most of all, but Padmé was acting as a politician. Here in front of her she had--presumably--the person who had written the note she had found hidden in her apartment, promising her and her husband a normal life and a family outside of their obligations on a faraway world...and she wouldn't speak of it. The war was more important. The billions of other families--sarved, refugee, displaced, imperiled--who would benefit from a truce where more important. Thus she spoke: "I do. For example, what is your official role in the administrations you described? In what capacity are you acting as negotiator?" she asked...and to her surprise, Sabé burst into laughter. And her surprise could only turn to horror as Luke followed. Dormé glared at them, and Typho had the decency to give an irritated cough.

"Oy vey." Luke sighed, wiping a tear from their eye. "Factotum, I guess? Gofer? I do what's needed."

Padmé's mouth fell open.

"You're saying you're not even a diplomat?"

"More of a moisture farmer."

"We are here to talk about galactic politics!"

"I, uh, got a university degree in history in Chandrila..."

"What my comrade is trying to say," Sabé volunteered, "Is that even if we trust the people in this room, my comrade would rather not give you too much information on what their role actually is, so that the Republic may not use this information against Tatooine. After all, talking on a secure, encrypted line is one thing, smuggling a person in and out of the planet is much more dangerous, and the less of a trail there is, the better."

"This apartment is secure, Sabé. You have scrubbed it clean yourself under Typho's watch." Padmé snapped. "I just want to know my trust is repayed with concrete evidence, not statements."

"Then fine." Skywalker stated, and Sabé sighed. "It will be fine, Tsabin."

"Just go easy on the humor." Sabé's smile was tired. "Padmé does deserve simplicity after how much we frayed her nerves."

"Simpler than this." Luke made a similar, painful smile. "Senator Amidala, you ask for my role. I'm a SOLIRMO advisor on national and international policy. Before that I've been a teacher, an archeologist, a soldier, and a farmer. Always things that life threw at me. We Tatooine people put to use everyone according to their experience. We don't yet have universities to teach political science, since we barely had schools up until a year and change ago." the Human shrugged. "You, Senator, are a politician by choice. Because you had ideals and you wanted to fight for them. That's...noble. Humbling, surely. But me and all of my comrades...politics for us a necessity. A necessity to survive. You want me to have credentials, qualifications, all I can give you are the scars I received on the battlefield for the rights of my people. I speak to you because I've fought, I've killed, I've spilled my own blood for the rights of my people, and as such my people trust me. I hope that's enough."

Padmé listened to each word carefully, weighing them. Indeed, Luke Skywalker was no politician. No politician would have dared be so prosaic about themselves. Even deflective self-deprecation would have more play to it than whatever Luke Skywalker was doing. But Padmé too had a part to play.

"I know you're a fighter. Sabé has told me of you. Some might say you're a leader...the leader, even." she said, and Skywalker's smile cut across their face.

"Please, Senator. This is not about who I am. This is about negotiations."

"How can I trust you to be honest in negotiation when you will not be honest about yourself and be who you clearly are? You're a shadowy figure, 'advisor'. You use agents to stalk me, to plant messages to me, you refuse to show your face when addressing the Galaxy and try to paint yourself as a nobody when I have seen the video of the IGBC heist and I can tell that--"

"Tea?" a mug floated towards Padmé interrupting her thoughts. "I prefer hot chocolate myself."

Padme's hands tightened into fists in her lap. "You don't care about a word I'm saying."

"No." Skywalker seemed to produce a mug of hot chocolate out of thin air and proceeded to drink from it. "I do wish I could be personally open to you, Senator--I really wish I could. I wish we could just talk about the people who have managed to mark both our lives. I wish we could be just two people, fully honest with each other. Free. But we're politicians. And we've got a truce to this war discuss. Therefore, who am I, and who am I to you, is stuff that just doesn't matter."

"Fine." Padmé forced out. "What are you asking Dooku?"

"All that he has promised in his second Raxus Address last week and more. Legalizations of unions and political parties, redistribution of profits from capitalists to the workers, and a ban on the persecution of our actors."

"So, you're following the same playbook you followed with Mandalore. Forcing another government to adopt your political program in exchange for stability, so you can replace it slowly from the inside." Padmé's lips pursed in disgust. "And I suppose you want Dooku to walk free, regardless of how many times he has tried--and sometimes succeeded--to assassinate our own."

Skywalker's blue eyes peered up at her from behind the mug. "Would you truly mind socialism, Senator? Would you truly mind production and services to be collectively organized by society according to the people's needs instead of profit?" Luke set the mug down on the wide coffee table behind the two sofas. "Sure, we're using every dirty trick in the book to ensure it. Sure, we're tearing apart the Republic to do it. So what? The Republic is acting against its people's interests. Its people have a right to tear it down if they so wish, and replace it with a system similar to ours if they so wish. What legitimacy would you have in their eyes if you tried to stop us from helping them?"

"The people have elected me. They trust me to fight for their rights."

"And you've elected Palpatine, who's pissing on every one of your attempts to do so." Luke sighed. "Senator. Your Clones' rights bill is a reality on Tatooine and all ASRA territories. The Chancellor could have signed it into law by executive order thanks to his emergency powers, but he didn't. At the negotiating table, we'll ask both the Republic and the CIS to adopt it and enforce it, for clones and for droids, as we did from the birth of our government."

"And how will you convince a Senate who voted it down?"

"Who knows? Maybe both of your armies will start deserting to us if you refuse."

"Neither clones nor droids can desert."

"Why? Do clones have chips in their brains forcing them to obey a programming like droids do?" Skywalker's smile was all too coy as they said that. It made Padmé's skin crawl. It couldn't be possible. It was an absurdity to think of it. And yet... they kept talking as if they were just stating plain facts. "Senator, one of our conditions is literally something you want to happen. The enactment of a law you wrote. When are you going to get a better offer than that?"

"But I didn't write it." Padmé said. "Anakin did." Skywalker's pupils dilated. "He's really coming, in the end. You'll have to be honest, finally."

Skywalker's face darkened. "Then you should have told him to come sooner."

"Why?" Padmé palmed the dagger hidden in the wrist lining of her dress. "Are you going to harm me now that I've told you this?"

"Not me." Skywalker said, and dived towards her. Padmé took the dagger out, but Skywalker tackled her into the sofa--right as the window behind them and Sabé exploded.

Padmé's ears were deafened by the explosion. Shards of glass, steel, wood and concrete showered them, and smoke filled the room.

"Take cover!" Sabé shouted, taking our her vibroblade and blasting at the figures stepping through the smoke. A clone trooper painted in the distinct red of the Coruscant police forces cried out and fell out of the window. More followed, wielding shields and blasters, wounding Dormé and Typho in the leg and shoulder respectively while they took down two of their number.

"Force, I'm getting too old for this shit." Luke groaned, lifting themselves off Padmé. "How about calming down and talking this out peacefully?" they said and then, white with soot and dust and glass all over, they twitched the fingers of their right hand. The clones were all immediately slammed to the floor, as if gravity had shifted for them and for them only...except one, who stared down Skywalker with a minigun in their hands.

"No." the clone said, and punched Skywalker so hard the Human was thrown back behind the Sofa. 

"Luke!" Sabé cried out, shooting at the clone without missing a beat. Blaster bolts sailed through the hair and shattered the clone's wristguards, chestplate and helmet, but the clone didn't go down, merely took out his own blaster pistol and shot back. Sabé cursed, was winged in the forearm, threw herself behind the Sofa, and shot back. Padmé herself cried out and went to stab the opponent. Clones or not, they'd hurt Typho and Dormé--she couldn't let them get away with it.

Her dagger found the side of the clone, piercing through the armor a good four inches, but the soldier merely backhanded her to the floor. "What are you waiting for?" he called out to his brothers. "Get the Senator!"

"On it." the other clones spoke as one man, their voices a drone-like echo, and grabbed Padme by the arms and legs. 

"Get off her!" roared Sabé, rushing the clone with her vibroblade. The weapon tore through the plastoid of the armor, but the clone knocked Sabé's grip loose on it with a headbutt.

"You women like to stab." the clone sneered, seemingly unfazed by the injury, before taking out a small, short sword out of a scabbard on his back and stepping over Sabé's supine, dazed form. "But I can play this game too."

"No!" Padmé cried out as the two other clones holding her secured her and themselves to ziplines dangling over to the hole they'd blown in the wall. Dormé and Typho, finding more strength at the last minute, staggered up again and shot the clone again, but again the clone barely seemed to notice the blaster bolt hitting his body...and pinned Sabé's body to the floor via sword to the stomach.

"Bastard!" they heard them cry, echoed, much more coldly, by Luke, who had risen from behind the sofa, the left side of their face a swollen mess.

"Sorry we can't stay and chat." he said, putting his sword back in his scabbard and letting a small, silver ball fall to the floor right next to Sabé's body.

"That's a thermal detonator." Typho paled, and the clone laughed as he attached himself to the last zipline and disappeared with Padmé and his cohorts. As the zipline was retracted, Padmé barely managed to see her security chief be pushed away by Luke, who threw themselves over the grenade--and then the building was rocked by another explosion.

"We have neutralized the terrorist." the clone holding her said, speaking into a comm. "Extraction in progress."

Padmé felt tears sting her eyes, but push them back. Damn it, Anakin, where are you?

 

-line break-

 

Anakin walked through the smokes, sparks and flaming appliances and sofa of his wife's apartment, heart racing with fear. He could feel her presence moving away, but he couldn't pinpoint her. Where was she being taken? What had happened here? He could see Dormé, Typho...unconscious, or straight up dead? Fear just kept building in the pit of his stomach.

"Padmé?"

Color drained from his face as he seemed to see her broken body strewn across the floor, next to an unknown corpse with smoke coming out of its chest.

"Padmé!" he cried, and knelt by her, tears welling up in his eyes, grabbing her shoulders and noticing the gaping wound in her stomach.

"Force, I hate when this happens." the corpse right next to him sit up as he was doing so, smoking chest and all.

Anakin just stared in horror. It was...himself?

"Huh." himself said. "So that's how my face must have looked in the cave on Dagobah." then they rose, cracked their neck and went to crouch over Padmé's body. They held their hands out over her, and as they did so...the wound magically stitched itself back together again.

"Fuck!" Padmé gasped, sitting back up and grabbing hold of Anakin. "Anakin--hey've taken her--clones--"

"What?" Anakin was on the verge of madness. "Who? Who did they take? Who took who? What is happening?"

"Padmé." Padmé stated, and on that moment, Anakin felt immensely stupid, as he'd managed to feel only a few other times in his life, and always for the same reason as he did in that moment.

"You're Sabé." he said, and felt his anger move from himself to her. "What happened? Where's Padmé? Why did you let her be taken away?"

"I was impaled with a sword by an indestructible man. What's your excuse? You were running late?" Sabé retorted, and she saw Anakin's face flush red. "Great Naboo. I keep asking myself what Padmé sees in you."

"What Kori sees in me. The Skywalker Stupid Gene, I guess." Anakin watched his clone--admittedly, a way shorter clone--bend over Typho and Dormé's prone forms and magically heal them as they'd done with Sabé before pulling the familiar Starkiller mask over their soot-and-dust-covered face. "These two are stabilized, Anakin can finish healing them."

"You can heal people without a healing trance?" Anakin asked, his confusion and correlated headache growing bigger and bigger by the second. "Not even Temple healers can do that--and I'm not even one."

The Starkiller sighed, putting on a pair of Mandalorian gauntlets. "Well, I suppose that's the problem with standardized testing in education. Stifles creativity in young students."

"Starkiller," Sabé pointed out in the driest tone Anakin had ever heard, "Your chest is still on fire."

Starkiller looked down. Sure enough, flames were still licking at their chest. "Aw, nuts. I liked this outfit." they said, and proceeded to rip it off only to reveal the completely shattered and charred front of the blue armored breastplate beneath. "Alright," they said, pulling a red scarf and an orange overcoat--orange like their pants had seemed to turn into--out of thin air. "Be back with your wife in a jiffy, junior."

"I see them." Sabé said, pointing to a speeder that was sprinting far away from the building. "modified airspeeder, four clones and her. Ninety klicks a hour, southwest and downwards, seven-hundred-meter distance already."

"Alright. Close enough."

"Wait, I have a speeder outside." Anakin protested. "You can't possibly grab them at this distance or jump all the way there."

"I can." Starkiller just turned at him and smiled, as the air started vibrating with electricity. "'Cause I'm supercool."

 

-line break-

 

"Whatever is the reason why you're doing this, you'll be court-martialed." Padmé said, trying to calm her trembling hands as the clones handcuffed her and forced her into the speeder waiting atop an empty floor in Republica 500 that was under renovation. The clones around her had not spoken a word since they'd extracted her, after murdering her friends and what little remained of Anakin's blood family.

"No court is going to convict us for killing terrorists, Senator." the clone waiting for them in the driver's seat. "We are soldiers of the Republic carrying out its orders."

"You killed my staff!"

"Unfortunate collateral damage." another clone said. "They should not have gotten themselves involved."

"And they opened fire on us." the third clone said. "Opening fire on Republic troops is a crime punishable with sentences of degrees varying according to severity until penalty of death."

"And what are you going to sentence this Senator of the Republic to?" Padmé spat as the speeder drove away from the building...and downards. "You just murdered the only witnesses to my death penalty."

"Yes." the fourth and last clone--the one she'd seen shot and stabbed and stabbed herself, looking none the worse for wear, said--turned to her, the single blue eye visible through the blaster bolt-caused hole in his helmet fixing onto her like a knife at her throat. "Traitors must pay the price, Senator."

A chill went down Padmé's spine as the car lifted, gained speed and turned towards the direction of the Industrial District. Clones didn't have blue eyes. "You're not a clone." she said, and the clone sitting in the shotgun seat turned to look at them in shock.

"He isn't?" he asked, and then seemed to freeze on the spot. "Wait. Behind us--enemy jumping towards us!"

"That's impossible, no being can jump that long--" the driver said, but he couldn't manage to finish the sentence.

Lightning comes in threes, they say. First the flash, then the crackle through the sky, and finally the thunder. And so it went. First, green light bathed the vehicle, then the clones driving were flung out of the vehicle by a roundhouse kick, and finally, Ka'Lir the Starkiller landed and rose to their feet and the hood of the car, golden hair and red scarf billowing in the wind together with their orange longcoat, standing tall despite the car driving at over a hundred kilometers per hour. 

"Headed for the Industrial District, I see." they remarked, without moving to gain hold of the driving controls. "I'll give you one chance to surrender."

"This is impossible. What you did--" the last remaining real clone stammered in fear. "What even are you?"

"A chance for payback." the non-clone trooper said, and took the vibroblade out of his body, Padmé gasping in horror as he slammed it end-first in the last remaining clone's throat. "It's once again me, you and a damn woman, huh?" he sneered, getting on top of the car himself, taking out the vibroblade out of his victim's throat and his sword out of his scabbard and standing over the seat. "But this time you don't have the Force to help you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do, Starkiller. On Tatooine you may have wiped my memory of your real name, but I recognize the twitch in your finger when you use the Force, even if you barely move your hands at all, unlike the Jedi. And you've been twitching like crazy since you got here, wondering what's wrong with me, why you can't seem to affect me with the Force."

"Whatever freakish ritual Sidious may have done on you, there are more ways to killl you than just Force-chucking you out of a car from five thousand levels in the air."

"Wouldn't work anyway." the assassin laughed, and lunged at Starkiller. The rebel reacted by drawing their lightsaber to cut him in two on the draw--but their green blade crackled into nothingness against the clone's sword. Cursing, Ka'Lir sidestepped the stabbing lunge and put away their now-useless lightsaber with their left hand, and with their right one punched the flat of the assassin's blade into dust.

"Cortosis." they said through gritted teeth. "Capable of shorting out a lightsaber, just like beskar, but not of surviving afterwards, unlike it."

"That punch took something out of you, huh?" the assassin chuckled, taking Padmé's dagger out of his chest to wield replace his shattered sword. "Even using the Force at all, on yourself or something else, it's difficult just by sheer virtue of being in my presence."

"Not enough for you to win." Ka'Lir threw their left hand out, and blasted the assassin's blades out of his grip. The assassin retorted by going for a haymaker, but the rebel ducked under it and countered with a gut punch. The assassin choked out a cry of pain and slammed his elbow down on his opponent, who parried while going for jab right into their jaw, shattering the lower side of the helmet with a sickening, wet crunch of bones crushed by metal. "That's my payback to you, asshole," they spat, grabbing him by the helmet with their left and punching him repeatedly in the head with their right hand until the helmet's side was fully basted open and his face behind it was a bloody, swollen mess. "And this is for the other people you hurt today."

"You don't really get it, huh?" his jaw seemingly fixing itself by magic, the assassin spat a gollop of blood into Ka'Lir's visor, blinding them, and kneed them in the kidney, making them bend over in pain. "And I thought you took that thermal detonator to the chest, not to the head." they stated, taking a standard ordinance stun baton off his belt and slamming it straight into Ka'Lir's heart through the blown-out hole in their breastplate. "But me? I'm even more durable than that." he said, his voice seething with bloodlust at Ka'Lir's cries of pain, driving them down past Padmé into the back hood of the car with the baton jammed into their ribs and hitting their visor and rebreather with fists as it sped away into the endless sprawl of power plants, logistic centers, factories and ongoing construction works of the Industrial District. "On Tatooine you killed nothing but an ineffectual prototype. But I have been upgraded." he continued, tightening his free hand around Starkiller's throat as he kept electrocuting them with the baton. "But now I am improved. And I am here to hunt every last one of you communist scum into extinction for the order I represent. So be thankful I am going to kill you now. You will not have to live to see everything you ever built burn to ashes."

Padmé dove towards the driver's seat. She had to do something to save Starkiller--to save Luke. So she grabbed the gas lever, and.

Just.

Pulled.

The car blew past all it speed configurations to reach two-hundred-and-fifty kilometers per hour, and both Padmé and the assassin were slammed back into the back seats as the car shot through the air like a missile. Padmé was left with the lever in her hand, but there was no time to panic. She slammed it into the side of the assassin's skull, destabilizing their inner ear, and as he fell over by her side between the front seats, stun baton flying out of his hands and into the levels below, Padmé's handcuffs clicked open and fell off her wrists. She turned to see Ka'Lir, hand outstretched toward her and trying to lift themselves off the hood of the car.

"Thank you." their breath was ragged and harsh, but their gaze behind the visor was firm and clear. "Please take my hand. We're getting off this thing."

"No you don't." the assassin growled, rising to grab at Padmé--but he staggered back, falling back between the seats. Shocked, they turned their head to see that Padmé's handcuffs had latched him to the steering wheel. "Oh." he said, and then he looked towards the front of the car: it was driving straight into an open construction site--and it would soon end up straight into the duraconcrete back wall of the place. "Oh." he repeated, and started laughing. Padmé saw that his face through the crack in the helmet had now fully healed.
She took Ka'Lir's hand.

"Now hold on tight and don't let go until we're on solid ground." they said, grabbing her by the waist and aiming the ripcord thrower of their free hand's vambrace upwards.

"You're crazy." Padmé said, but held onto them all the same, struggling not to be blown back by the wind resistance.

"They're not." the assassin laughed. "It's an impossible shot, but only to you. They're just more than they show to you. A nuclear inferno, a desert winter. A maelstrom of horror and fury." he seethed, and Padmé felt herself pale as she felt Ka'Lir's fingers arm tighten around her waist. "Power that could glass this city. We have torn a planet asunder, me and them. What world should we devastate next? This one? Your own? Take your pick, Amidala--you have given yourself to a dragon capable of devouring Suns! Why do you think they call themselves the Starkiller?!"

And at that, it was Padmé that broke out into laughter. "Whoever you are," she said, to the assassin's baffled face, "Trust me, I know better. You've got it all wrong."

"Just leave it be, Travis." Ka'Lir smiled, and shot out the ripcord. Padmé watched the beskar weave hurtle itself through the ar, magnetic pole at the end shining in the sunlight that peeked through the half-finished roof of the building as they entered it, big as a cathedral--and the ripcord attached itself to a support beam close to the ceiling. And right as it went taut under their drag, Ka'Lir the Starkiller kicked away from the car as it hurtled to its own--and the assassin's--demise. Padmé held on as they swung on the rope, soaring through the air towards the freshly-installed skylight, Ka'Lir twisting their body to protect her from the impact.

They smashed through the glass as the speeder car exploded against the back wall of the place, and fell to the concrete roof as Starkiller twisted again and let go of the rope, rolling around for four meters before falling to a stop and letting out a shared groan of pain and exhaustion.

Straining, Padmé lifted herself up into a sitting position and looked at Ka'Lir. Their eyes had gone blank and glassy, fixed into a point far beyond horizon. Padmé reached out to touch them, worried--and for her troubles, Starkiller's hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, squeezing it like a vice.

"Ah!" Padmé cried out in pain, trying to pry their fingers open from her wrist. "Stop! You're hurting me--" she told the blank-eyed warrior. "--You're hurting me, Luke."

It was like a bucket of ice water drenched Ka'Lir. The rebel let her go and shook, frantically scooting away from her and ripping their shattered mask off. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

They were breathing hard as they said so, tears driving clear lines into their blackened, bruised face. 

"I'm sorry." they repeated, looking at once utterly disraught at what they'd done and scared of her.

"I'm sorry too." Padmé said, rubbing her wrist. "Post-traumatic stress disorder, isn't it?" she asked, eyes softening at Luke. "It's not the first time you've been electrocuted, is it?"

Luke didn't reply. But at least their breath slowly grew steadier and calmer.

"I thought you were a freeborn."

"I was enslaved for a time. Zygerria. Got too careless in trying to free other slaves." Luke said, as they dried their stress tear and sniffed. "But that's been the only other time I've been electrocuted with a stun baton. The others...." they looked back at her, their gaze so terribly sad. "He's right, you know? The Force is a power that is...unimaginable. You can hurt someone with it in ways that make death feel like a sweet mercy."

Padmé didn't know how to respond. She knew Tatooine people did not cry, but whatever memory she'd triggered in Luke was clearly enough to shatter them.

"May I?" they said, motioning to her wrist. Padmé gingerly held it out to them, and felt her hurting joint and skin tingle away into normalcy. So did all the other bruises she'd received in that day's ordeal.

"Or you can heal people with it." Padmé smiled despite her surprise. "Did you heal Sabé, too?"

Luke made a small, weak smile. "Yep. And not for the first time. Your staff, too...I never thought I'd become team medic." they said, and let out a sigh that shook their shoulders. "It's really easier to hurt with the Force rather than to heal. This...took more energy out of me than fighting with Travis."

"That man..."

"An agent of the Republic. I don't know what alias he may use here. But he almost destroyed my home. He almost killed my whole family."

"I thought Anakin was your whole family?"

"You know that's not true. You went with him to Tatooine, you met the Larses, you heard Sabé's story. Me and him, we got a much larger family there than just blood." Luke said, and sat back on the concrete, sighing. They looked so much smaller now than the towering, mythic figure who had struck the car she'd been taken away in like a bolt out of the blue. And then it dawned on Padmé.

"You're a superhero." she said with a smile, as Luke pulled up their scarf to replace their shattered mask, covering their face from the bridge of their broken nose down. "You dress up like this, like one of Anakin's childhood drawings, to convince anyone might be behind that mask."

"I'm tired of being a symbol. That’s why everyone in our army wears these outfits. Everyone is a symbol, this way." Luke said. "And it's a symbol created by a child yearning for freedom, for agency against oppression."

"You'd do right by that child if you met him, explained yourself, hugged him." Padmé said. "Anakin, he's...he's really just so alone."

"You're wise. Wise like I always dreamed you to be." Luke said, and stood up, helping her to do the same. "But this is all bigger than the three of us. And here, now--it's neither the proper time nor place for explainations."

"What do you mean here, now?" Padmé asked, and Luke motioned behind her with a nod of their head. Padmé turned to see her husband, Anakin Skywalker, approaching with lit lightsaber in hand fron the vehicle access ramp to the roof.

"There are you are." Anakin said, voice trembling with fury. "Now get away from her."

 

Notes:

DUN DUN DUUUUN!!! The two Skywalkers finally meet face to face! What awaits us? An epic lightsaber battle? A tearful discovery and reconciliation? Find out in the next chapter!

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

"I will not let you turn my wife traitor." Anakin snarled, holding Luke at swordpoint. "Starkiller, Ka'Lir, you are stealing everything from me!"
"Anakin," Padmé pleaded, grabbing his arm. "Please don't do this."
"It's alright, Senator." the Starkiller remarked, as the roar of a speeder bike made itself heard, "I'm not the only supercool one around here."