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The footsteps were precise, boot heels ringing against metal, the sort of authoritative stride one heard only in an officer. TL-09 straightened, the gleam of his white armor reflecting in the metal wall opposite him. He did not turn his head to watch who was approaching. He had had years of military training telling him when it was appropriate to acknowledge an officer, years of serving in combat and pulling other clones out of the line of fire. No, not clones, stormtroopers. That was the name that was now being used. The Emperor had at first dismissed the name when it had circulated among the ranks of those reckless enough to dissent his rule, but soon he had taken a liking to it in his own cryptic way. TL-09 frowned inside his helmet, it was not his place to consider the Emperor’s decisions. What was decided was final. His duty was to obey, he had been created for that sole purpose.
The words were a mantra, repeated over and over but he remembered a different time, a time where at any moment he could die, any moment be replaced by another with the same face, the same genes. A time when he had fought alongside resistance leaders and Jedi, but that had been before the Jedi’s betrayal, before their desire to take power from the Emperor. The Clone Wars had ended years ago and still, TL-09 struggled to understand the Jedi’s reasoning. They had seemed the best of warriors, noble beings that a clone could never hope to surpass. How had they fallen in such a way? He shook his head slightly, his programming was faulty, that was the only reason for his lingering doubts, that and the door he stood next to, the door to a cell that housed a prisoner many had believed dead.
The sharp dryness of re-circulated air channeled through his helmet as the footsteps came nearer, not breaking pace, not faltering at the sight of an armed stormtrooper, or the marks along the shoulder armor showing that TL-09 had been a clone and was now an elite stormtrooper. Most of the new stormtroopers were not clones, not after the Kaminoans had left the business and retreated to some place beyond the reach of the Empire. New soldiers were nothing more than untrained recruits, young, unsure of how to even fire a blaster.
A man came into view, a high-ranking officer, and TL-09 straightened further. He had seen many officers, those that had been involved in war from the beginning of their lives, those who had turned from petty criminality to the newly formed Empire, and those that were given their high rank as rewards, or in some cases punishment. TL-09 knew instantly that this was a man of the first category. It was in the perfect posture, the clasped hands behind the back, the unflinching gaze. This was a man who knew battle intimately and had come through the fires unscathed. He was older, though not old, graying hair cut so that his long bangs would easily fall into his eyes if they had not been smoothed back along the scalp, the clean-shaven face radiated power and control. The officer was slightly shorter than TL-09 and thin, but his average stature was forgotten, one look into the man’s eyes made it clear that this officer had earned his rank. The man’s gaze flickered to the door behind TL-09.
“Open the cell.”
It was an order and TL-09 hastened to obey, accessing the locking system and stepping aside as the door slid open. The man stepped forward and into the cell in one efficient stride. TL-09 followed, the door sliding shut with a hiss behind him. He stood still near the door, as protocol dictated, watching as the man moved into the light of the small gray windowless room.
In the center of the room, strapped down with metal bindings to a chair, sat another man. Tall, still powerful, if slender, the man raised his head. TL-09 heard the loud sound of his own swallow inside his helmet. The man in the chair had been attempting to tear out the collar embedded into his neck, with what and how, TL-09 did not know. But he knew Jedi, he had worked with them once before. Even if the collar prevented the Jedi from accessing their mystical Force, they were still dangerous and TL-09 stepped forward as the Imperial officer approached the bound man. The officer waved a hand in negation and TL-09 remained where he was, breath rasping in his throat, watching as the officer walked up to the seated man, close enough to touch.
“Qui-Gon Jinn.” The officer remarked and the seated Jedi, Jinn, gave a small smile.
He was older than the officer, but did not appear as old as his actual age. He had been middle-aged before the clones had even become part of the Republic, one of those humans who had a longer life-span than most, who aged slower. His gray beard and hair was streaked with white, but that was more likely from stress than a sign of age. The man’s face was still only lightly lined, his long hair thick and much longer than it had been during the war, tangled and loose around the man’s waist, matted with blood from the blow that had finally taken him down. General Jinn was a great warrior, his reputation of being a Field General in the Clone Wars and surviving the most terrible missions…that was legendary. Sharp uncertainty assailed TL-09 again, to see the Jedi now, beaten, imprisoned, chained, blocked from the dubious comfort of the Force…it was not easy to accept.
“You will be moved shortly to a new location. You will then be taken to the Emperor, to answer for your crimes.” The officer informed the imprisoned Jedi, circling the chair only to stop in front of him again, facing the man.
TL-09 shifted slightly in surprise. When a Jedi was caught, Vader was often the one who dealt with them, but than, Lord Vader had seemed to avoid this particular Jedi. Perhaps even he had been afraid…
TL-09 narrowed dark eyes, he was wrong to suspect, to question the authority of the Empire. Everything was as it should be, honor, service, loyalty, those were the values of the Empire. If the Emperor wished to make his first public appearance in years to sentence this Jedi, that was his choice to do so. The Jedi were evil. Order 66 had to be upheld. The words fell flat in his mind as he watched the seated Jedi and the officer. At the announcement of his sentencing, Jinn did not respond, merely regarded the officer calmly, his bruised old face impassive.
“Your compliance would be appreciated.” The officer suggested and the first hint of something crossed Jinn’s face,
“I have a difficult time being compliant.” He remarked with an edge of almost amusement and the officer replied as if he could not help himself,
“Yes, you do.”
It was a marked step away from his earlier crisp tone, almost wistful, and TL-09 stared in confusion as the officer reached out and touched the Jedi’s face. Jinn leaned into the touch, whispering so quietly, that only the audio receptors built into TL-09’s helmet caught what the older man said.
“You should not have come.”
The officer tilted his head, his deeper voice still carrying his own soft tone,
“You were supposed to remain hidden.”
Jinn frowned slightly, but seemed to strain against his bonds, almost as if he wanted to return the touch that the officer gave. Theirs was a conversation of comrades, of individuals who had known closeness over many years.
“We are not the sort of men to hide in shadows,” Jinn responded firmly, but his eyes did not leave the officer’s face, not even when the officer’s gaze settled on the collar trapped against Jinn’s scraped throat.
“The whole universe is in shadows.” The officer murmured, voice tight with some hidden, unspoken pain.
“You are forgetting the light that you bring, Obi-Wan.” The Jedi said and the officer turned away.
TL-09 remained frozen, ‘Obi-Wan’ was not a common name and the officer in front of him was already stepping back, circling the chair, regarding the restraints shrewdly. His face was lifted from memories, TL-09 had never had the opportunity to serve with the man, had only known him from other clones, but even clean-shaven, with mostly gray hair, he was recognizable now. Thinner, older and battle-hardened, he nevertheless brought forth the images of a younger man with the robes of a Jedi over clone armor, reddish hair and beard.
General Kenobi pulled a small device from his uniform belt and flipped it open to reveal a heat blade. He begin melting the metal restraints, speaking quietly to Jinn, his lifemate, TL-09, recalled dazedly, remembering a rumor of a ceremony after Geonosis that had been publicized only because both men had been Jedi. The secret wedding had been unable to be openly acknowledged or refuted by the Temple when trained Jedi were so needed in the beginning of the war.
General Kenobi had disappeared after the death of Skywalker, surely he had died in the Temple, surely this was not him, releasing one of Jinn’s arms, pressing his mouth against a large lined hand before kneeling to release the restraints binding the older Jedi’s legs. TL-09 half raised a gloved hand to his helmet, wondering if he should comm someone, inform them of an escaped prisoner, of two Jedi present, but the memories of the past stilled his hand. Jinn and Kenobi had fought side by side during the war. The sight of two Jedi so in tune with the Force and each other had been riveting, even for clones trained by Jango Fett. They had both had close brushes with death. Once, Kenobi had been injured badly enough that Jinn had not left his bedside at a makeshift medtent for three months, even as bombs fell around them, everyone having pulled out but a few clones and the two Jedi.
There were tales of these men, bordering on myth, but now as TL-09 saw them together, he felt perhaps the myths were understatements, for nothing could prepare him for the devotion both men had to each other. Kenobi must have lied and stolen, perhaps killed to disguise himself as an officer, to come aboard this newly built Star Destroyer and not be recognized with Vader’s own Force powers. He had risked being captured and killed brutally on the chance that Jinn had not been killed or relocated yet.
TL-09’s hand dropped to his side. There would be consequences for the escape of a Jedi under his watch, as there were consequences for every action committed against the Empire. He thought of those few clones that had killed themselves rather than obey Order 66. He had considered them traitors, but now he saw the reasoning behind such a choice. He had only hours to secure the Jedi’s safe escape, to destroy evidence, to make the same decision that those few clones had made years ago.
Death is never what you expect, AD-15 had said to him on Geonosis, after a shot from a super battle droid slammed through his chest armor, after TL-09 had pried the clone’s helmet off and tried to help, forgetting training for that moment in that first battle. It had been unexpected, the odd humor in AD-15’s last words. TL-09 recalled the heat, so unlike Kamino, the orange sand marred with the fighting around them as AD-15’s biosenser failed to continue working. Death is never what you expect, Tl-09 repeated silently, not for clones, not for Jedi, not even for himself. But it was an ending to be proud of, a service rendered to an Order he had once destroyed because he had been commanded to do so, an atonement for those lost and those that had been recovered.