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Chapter Text

A sharp hiss and a sudden jolt of agonizing pressure in his right shoulder yanked Phuwin back to consciousness.

"I wouldn't try to move that arm yet, Jedi," a voice murmured from his left as Phuwin's eyes snapped open and he attempted to move to get away from whatever was pressing on his injury.

Phuwin froze, finally registering the familiar metallic ceiling of the JASP.ER's tiny medical bay. The sharp scent of Corellian spice and old leather mixed with the bitter tang of bacta, and it took Phuwin a moment to realize that the bacta was coming from a patch that had been pasted over his shoulder wound.

"Like I said," the voice said dryly, "don't move it." Phuwin looked to the side to find Joong sitting on a low crate right beside the medical berth, his face drawn with exhaustion and thinly veiled worry. His maroon jacket was slung over the top of another nearby crate, and he looked like he hadn't slept a wink since the caldera.

Phuwin blinked, his throat feeling like it was lined with glass. "How…"

"Pond carried you himself," Joong said. He leaned forward so that his elbows rested comfortably on his knees. "Your little shadow tried to argue he should do it, but the Captain insisted. Claimed Smuggler's Rights." He sent Phuwin a sharp look as if that explained anything.

Phuwin raised an eyebrow in silent question, and Joong's mouth twitched. "You're wearing his jacket, you spent time in his bunk - what do you think it means, Jedi?"

Phuwin's stomach dropped. "That we were heading into sub-zero conditions we hadn't prepared for," he snapped. "The rest of it means nothing."

"Means something to him," Joong replied with little heat. He shrugged. "Means something to us."

"The only thing that matters is the Jedi Code," Phuwin muttered. He ran his good hand through his hair and sighed, looking down at his injured shoulder. His right arm was tightly bound in a specialized medical sling. He was still wearing his standard Jedi tunic - the one meant for non-combat related scenarios - but the ruined spacer jacket was draped neatly at the foot of the medical berth.

He opened his mouth to say something he might have regretted later, but then the entire hull of the JASP.ER violently shuddered. Phuwin distantly heard the deep thud of a magnetic docking clamp locking them into whatever hangar they'd just landed in.

The overhead comms speaker sputtered to life. "Uh, Joong? Phu? If you're awake, we have a bit of a diplomatic situation out here in the main hangar that could really use a Jedi's touch right about now."

Phuwin groaned. His mind felt fuzzy as he forced himself to sit up. His left hand took most of his weight while he pushed himself to the edge of the berth. "What's happening?"

"We're back on Pantora," Joong told him, his expression darkening as he stood and reached for the holster at his hip, snapping his smaller blaster securely into place. "The local authorities didn't appreciate us taking an unannounced vacation to their planet. Especially after the mess we left in their refueling bay."

Phuwin didn't exactly blame them for being upset about the whole thing. "Then you add in Fourth's hack and the damage…"

"And you have one very upset Pantoran Assembly," Joong finished with a grim huff of laughter. He held out his hand for Phuwin to take as the Jedi pushed himself to his feet. "We got a security escort the moment we reached the upper atmosphere. There's at least a full platoon of officers lined up at the bottom of the loading ramp."

"Let me guess, Chairman Cho himself is leading them." Phuwin hadn't met the politician personally, but what he'd read hadn't impressed him one bit. The Chairman was known for two things: his pride and his bully-like behavior.

"I'd bet he's the one holding the arrest warrants."

Phuwin accepted the hand and sighed. Once he was upright, he took a deep breath to center himself. His Master's focusing stone warmed against his chest, a reassuring presence even as Phuwin faced his first official "diplomatic incident."

I wouldn't worry too much about it, Master Tay had said the first time Phuwin had broached the subject of what to do if things ever went this far, you're too much of a hand raiser to get yourself stuck like I did.

He'd accepted that answer at the time because yes, he was a very proud hand raiser who followed the letter of the law the best he could. At the time. Before he'd met Pond and gotten caught up in all of his… Pond-ness.

"Well, Joong," Phuwin murmured, glancing at the other man with a sarcastic glint in his eyes. "Let's see just how well I can talk us out of a Republic prison."

The loading ramp was already lowered by the time Phuwin and Joong reached the main corridor. The humid, marsh-ridden air of Pantora clung to Phuwin like a wet blanket as a sharp, authoritative voice echoed on the ship's interior plating.

"-under arrest by the order of the Pantoran Assembly. You will surrender your weapons and submit to Pantoran authorities."

Phuwin's stomach dropped.

He pushed past Joong and half-ran down the corridor. His injured shoulder pulsed in protest with every step, but he pushed the pain away with a quick thought. The ramp's angle was steep enough that he had to catch himself on the wall as he made his way to the ground, and when he finally cleared the ship's shadow, the scene before him was worse than he'd imagined.

Pond stood a few feet in front of the ramp's base, hands raised in surrender. His blaster lay at his feet, power cell already extracted from the chamber. Fourth stood to his left, similarly disarmed, though the Pantorans showed enough respect (or fear, probably fear) to ensure an officer held the two lightsabers in his hands rather than leaving them on the floor. Dunk stood between them, hands clasped loosely behind his head. He looked nauseated, and Phuwin suspected whoever was handling his arrest would need a good dry cleaner soon, because their uniform was about to be the recipient of Dunk's breakfast.

Surrounding them were at least thirty Pantoran officers in full armor, their weapons trained on the three with the kind of intensity that suggested they were hoping for an excuse to fire.

And at the center of it all was Chairman Cho.

He was shorter than the holos made him out to be. Even so, his posture and air of authority made up for the lack of height. He'd dressed himself in full ceremonial regalia - a bit of overkill for a simple arrest, in Phuwin's opinion. His robes were deep purple, immaculate despite the conditions, and Phuwin wondered if there was a special technique to that. His Jedi robes always felt stiff and musty after being anywhere near wet, humid conditions for extended periods of time.

"Captain Naravit Lertratkosum," Cho said. His voice carried across the hangar with very little effort. "You and your crew are charged with unauthorized landing, destruction of public property, illegal system intrusion, and conspiracy to commit acts of espionage against the Pantoran Assembly."

Fourth's anxiety spiked sharply within the Force. His eyes found Phuwin's, wide and urgent as the officers stepped forward to begin the arrest. Phuwin's mind raced through the options until he realized there weren't any.

Pond's head snapped to Phuwin. His tense expression shifted - not enough to be obvious, but enough for Phuwin to see it. It wasn't quite relief, per se. It was something.

Then, he felt it.

Trust.

He was trusting Phuwin to fix this, and Phuwin didn't have a plan.

His mouth moved before his brain caught up to him. "Chairman Cho." The words came out clearly and far steadier than Phuwin felt. "I am Jedi Knight Phuwin Tangsakyuen of the Galactic Republic."

Cho's attention fixed on him, and Phuwin had to fight the urge to wilt beneath the politician's appraising gaze. Cho's eyes narrowed as he took in Phuwin's appearance: the borrowed jacket, the bacta patch peeking out from beneath his collar, his disheveled hair.

"And you are?" Cho asked. His tone suggested he already knew the answer to that question and didn't care about it at all.

A flare of annoyance burst to life in Phuwin's chest, but he smothered it with a deep breath before he could get himself into further trouble. "Active Republic military," he continued. He took another step down the ramp. The officers nearest to him took a step back. He gestured to Fourth. "As is my Padawan, Nattawat Jirochtikul." If Cho was going to use formal names here, then Phuwin would match him word for word. Fourth straightened immediately, hands dropping to his sides and Padawan braid swinging. "We are operating under Republic authority in this sector."

Cho's expression soured. "That does not absolve-"

"Under the Republic Charter, Article Seven, Section Three," Phuwin interrupted, his voice sharpening, "Republic military personnel engaged in active operations are granted diplomatic immunity from local prosecution unless formally charged through Republic military tribunals."

He wasn't entirely sure where the words were coming from. Perhaps a lecture from Master Kenobi about legal protections afforded to Jedi operating in neutral or allied space? Some data pad Master Tay had shoved in his direction upon his promotion to Knight? He didn't know. He never thought he'd actually need to use them.

Again. Hand raiser. Getting in trouble for stupid plans was Fourth's bad habit. Not his.

Cho's jaw tightened. The yellow tattoos around his eyes crinkled as his deep blue brow furrowed. "And the smugglers?"

The thread of anxiety that had been lying in his chest snapped tightly around Phuwin's chest. He could feel Pond's steady gaze on him. Waiting.

"Are civilians," Phuwin said after a beat. Beside him, Joong tensed. Dunk's hands shook. Fourth stared at him, mouth agape as Phuwin powered through the next words. "Subject to your jurisdiction."

They tasted like ash in his mouth.

Pond's expression didn't change. Though the rest of his crew - and Fourth - reacted with a mixture of shock and betrayal, he didn't flinch or protest. He didn't even look surprised. He kept his hands raised and his eyes trained on Phuwin with that same trust from before.

Phuwin's throat tightened. He didn't deserve it.

"Captain Naravit, Archen Aydin, Natachai Boonprasert," one of the officers nearest to Dunk announced, stepping forward with energy binders. "You are hereby detained pending Assembly review."

"Wait-" Fourth began to protest, but Phuwin caught his eye and shook his head once. Not now, he tried to tell the Padawan through the Force. He'd never been able to get the hang of telepathy, but he hoped that the meaning was clear.

Thankfully, Fourth fell silent.

The binders snapped into place around Pond's wrists. He motioned to Joong with his head - a silent order for his second in command to step forward. Joong held his hands out to the officer with the kind of resignation that suggested this wasn't his first arrest. Dunk was last. Phuwin dutifully ignored the engineer's shaking hands within the restraints.

"The Jedi will remain under guard," Cho announced. His tone was clipped, though if it was due to the situation or Phuwin outmaneuvering him, Phuwin wasn't sure. "Until the Assembly reconvenes to verify their... claims."

Hopefully, that didn't mean an immediate transmission to Coruscant. The Temple would only go so far as to verify that Phuwin was there to conduct a civilian mission - with no mention of Fourth being involved. Technically, Phuwin was allowed to bring along a Padawan as he saw fit so long as he had their Master's permission.

...which Phuwin had not requested.

Kriff, he was going to owe Master Tay and Master Gun big time for covering for him, if they chose to do so at all. Master Tay, maybe, but Gun? Who hated anything to do with the military?

He might as well pack it in right here. The Republic would fight tooth and nail to recover two well-meaning Jedi, but if he wanted any chance at saving Pond and the others, he needed someone on Coruscant to verify his story. Or, for Coruscant to stay out of the conversation entirely until they were off-world.

Two officers moved toward Phuwin and Fourth. One of them reached out for Phuwin's lightsaber, which he unclipped from his belt and dropped into the Pantoran's waiting grasp without protest. He forced his breaths to remain even. He set his face in a mask of neutrality even as his heart hammered against his ribs.

Pond was being led toward a transport speeder at the edge of the hangar. Joong followed slowly, head angled to check on Dunk as the engineer stumbled slightly. Phuwin saw the taller man's jaw clench when the officer holding Dunk steadied him with more force than was necessary.

As the officers settled their last prisoner into the speeder, Pond glanced back.

Their eyes met across the hangar. The moment didn't last long. In fact, it was less than a moment, just long enough for Phuwin to see the faint smirk at the corner of Pond's lips.

I trust you, Princess, his eyes seemed to say.

Then he was gone. The doors to the speeder sealed shut, and the transport lifted into the air. It disappeared out into the humidity of Pantora, and Phuwin, already feeling the loss, took a deep breath before curling his good hand into a fist at his side.

"You will remain under armed escort," Cho said, turning his attention back to the Jedi, "until the Assembly reconvenes."

You already said that, Phuwin noted dryly. He kept that bit to himself, though he could feel Fourth's annoyance growing in the Force. He jumped back into the conversation before the Padawan could make things worse than they already were. "I request permission to retrieve personal effects from our Republic vessel," he said. "Military protocol requires-"

"Your Republic vessel," Cho interrupted, "is currently impounded in a public hangar. You may retrieve your personal effects under guard."

Phuwin fought the urge to scowl. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.

"Thank you, Chairman," Phuwin said. He inclined his head with just enough respect to avoid insult, drawing upon his old lessons in diplomacy from the Jedi Academy to guide him. He'd never been the best at it - he was, as Master Tay had put it, "too blunt" for anything sensitive - but he'd done well enough to pass the course at the very least. He could already feel the thin thread of his patience beginning to fray.

Cho's expression didn't waver. "Captain Cheg will escort you."

A tall Pantoran officer stepped out of the crowd, her armor marked with a command insignia. "This way," she ordered.

Phuwin and Fourth followed along behind her, flanked by six armed guards. The walk through the docking facilities was endless. Long corridors lined with observation windows that looked out over the misty cityscape greeted them at every turn. They passed through at least four security checkpoints. Maintenance crews kept stopping their work to watch their procession pass.

Fourth's nervous energy began to roll off of him in waves. His left hand tapped lightly against his hip where his lightsabers should have been with every step.

"Easy," Phuwin murmured.

"I know," Fourth replied under his breath. The words were stiff. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Phuwin didn't respond. He couldn't find the words.

The truth of the matter was, he didn't like it either. But...

Pond had trusted him. Pond had looked him in the eye and told him without words to figure this out. Pond, who had given him his jacket and carried him back to the ship. Pond, who had stolen his focusing stone just for the chance to see him again - why else would he have done it if not for that?

For some strange reason, Pond trusted him.

Phuwin wasn't going to let that trust go to waste.

The Skipray wasn't hard to spot when they entered Hangar Bay Seven. Compared to the sleek personal cruisers and large freighters around her, she looked like a flying brick - not that Phuwin would say it out loud.

Fourth would be upset. And considering his patience was already hanging by a thread, Phuwin wasn't going to test it.

Security barriers had been erected around the ship's landing struts, and two additional Pantoran officers stood guard at the base of the boarding ramp. The ship's hull gleamed dully beneath the hangar's bright overhead lights.

Captain Cheg stopped at the security perimeter and gestured sharply to the guards. "Open it."

One of the guards moved to the control panel mounted to the nearest barrier post. The energy field around the ship shimmered before it disappeared. A burst of interest from Fourth sent ripples through the Force, and Phuwin shot him a warning glance. Fourth made a face, but he didn't investigate further. The Pantorans hadn't seemed to realize exactly who they had in their hangar. If they had, they wouldn't have let Fourth anywhere near a ship or piece of technology. At least, not if they knew what was good for them.

Phuwin stepped forward. His shoulder throbbed beneath the bacta patch. He wasn't looking forward to what would come next, but he pushed the pain aside and focused on the task at hand.

"You have ten minutes," Cheg told them. Her tone was professional. "Retrieve your personal effects and return to the escort."

Phuwin nodded once and climbed the ramp. Fourth followed closely, his staticky nervous energy radiating through the Force around them. There was an undercurrent of curiosity hidden beneath it - curiosity toward Phuwin. He seemed to have figured out that something was going on, because the betrayal from earlier was gone.

The Skipray's interior was exactly as they'd left it, which was surprising considering the Pantorans had likely torn through every compartment during the search Phuwin knew they'd conducted while he and the others were on Orto Plutonia. Phuwin moved through the cramped corridor toward the cockpit, Fourth his shadow as they made their way through the ship.

"I'm guessing you have a plan," Fourth said once Phuwin stopped next to the pilot's seat. He leaned against the threshold to the cockpit and crossed his arms over his chest. "We're not leaving them."

Phuwin knelt beside the chair and keyed open the storage panel hidden in the plating beneath it. Inside, neatly folded, were his combat tunic and armor pieces. The teal plastoid plates shone gently in the dim light of the cockpit, reflecting the light back in sharp angles.

"We're not," Phuwin confirmed as he pulled the tunic out first. He nodded to the copilot's seat. "But you need to change."

The fabric of the tunic was lighter than his standard Jedi robes. It had been designed for close combat rather than ceremonial appearances or diplomatic missions - one of the newer innovations the war had brought the Order. He shrugged out of Pond's borrowed jacket and folded it carefully over the pilot's seat. Then, he gently extracted his arm from the sling. It hung, useless, at his side.

Fourth huffed. "I'm not sure how armor is going to help things... unless we're busting them out ourselves." He raised an eyebrow and joined Phuwin in crouching on the floor. "Are we busting them out?"

"No. That would be a last resort." Phuwin's combat tunic easily slid over his head, though he struggled with his injured arm. It fit snugly across his chest and shoulders, the material designed to move with him rather than against him. He fastened the closures at his sides with one hand, and within him, something shifted.

He had once been a Jedi on a scientific expedition. Now, he was a Republic soldier.

Fourth was already pulling his own gear from the co-pilot's storage compartment by the time Phuwin had finished with his tunic. His grey armor pieces clinked softly as he set them on the deck plating.

His combat tunic was even more minimal than Phuwin's. The dark earthy brown garment was sleeveless. Reinforced panels at the ribs and lower back made up most of its coverage, but there was no fabric to restrict his shoulders or arms.

"Fourth," Phuwin began as Fourth pulled the tunic over his head.

Fourth cut him off with a shake of his head, then adjusted the fit so that it sat properly on his torso. "I'm fine," he said, expression tight, yet determined.

Phuwin frowned and reached for his chest plate.

Like most Jedi armor - something Master Gun vehemently protested when he and Fourth had been fitted for it almost a year ago - the plate was essentially modified clone trooper plating. The main difference in the design came from the weight and reinforcement. His particular plating was reinforced and heavier than standard trooper issue. It wasn't designed for mobility. Phuwin's preferences in combat were to move less and deflect more, so his armor was built to absorb hits.

If he'd been wearing it on Orto Plutonia, he wouldn't have been injured nearly as badly.

The chest plate was a solid piece that covered his sternum and ribs completely, extending upward into a high gorget that protected his throat and collarbone. The burn beneath the bacta patch throbbed as he lifted the armor, but he ignored it.

He secured the chest plate first. The magnetic clasps on his right shoulder, sides, and the base of his spine snapped into place. Fourth, already sensing the issue, snapped the one on the left for him before he had to figure out a way to get his right arm moving well enough to hit the clasp without injuring it further.

...he'd been just about ready to rely on the Force. Fourth was a much better option.

He rolled his shoulders more out of habit than anything else. He knew from experience that he could still turn, pivot, and make sudden leaps if he absolutely had to, but the weight reminded him with every breath that his job was to remain unmovable.

The gorget pressed against the base of his skull, forcing his chin slightly higher. His posture straightened as much as his injuries would allow. He'd stood square in the face of incoming fire more than once in this very chest plate. An assembly of politicians would be nothing before him.

He let out a quiet breath. Next came the tricky part: the vambraces.

The forearm bracers were heavy, symmetrical reinforced plates that wrapped around both arms from wrist to elbow. He managed to slide his left arm into its casing with relative ease. The magnetic seals only needed a soft prod with his mind to seal tightly around his forearm.

The issue was the right brace. The stubborn muscles in his right arm refused to do so much as twitch at the moment. There was no way he was sliding it into anything. He looked to Fourth for help again, but Fourth was busy with his own preparations at this point.

Phuwin let out a small, frustrated breath and closed his eyes. Pushing past the throbbing pain in his collarbone, he gathered a thread of the Force and wrapped it gently around his useless right wrist. With a left-handed gesture, he used his powers to lift his right arm just enough to slide the teal plating beneath it. A small nudge with the Force had the magnetic clasps closing with a soft hiss.

"Show-off," Fourth muttered dryly, though there was no heat in it.

Phuwin offered him a tired grin. He flexed his fingers in his good hand to test the range of motion. The bracers allowed his wrists to move freely, which was necessary for the controlled movements he tended to favor in combat. However, the weight was substantial.

His forearms were always exposed during a fight. The minute arcs of his lightsaber defense left them vulnerable to plasma, shrapnel, and very lucky shots. His armor was heavy because it had to be. There was no avoiding it. He'd rather be protected than dead because a droid got lucky.

He stood and felt the full weight of his armor settle into place. His center of gravity dropped. The added mass forced his stance to widen so that his balance remained grounded. He was no longer Phuwin Tangsakyuen, desperate Jedi Knight scrambling to fix a diplomatic disaster.

He was Jedi Knight Phuwin Tangsakyuen of the Galactic Republic, General of the 701st Legion, and he had just saved this moon from a Separatist invasion.

Beside him, Fourth was busy with his own armor.

The plastoid was very different from Phuwin's plating. Unlike the flashy teal of the 701st, Fourth had painted his armor in streaks of light grey. It was designed to protect only those joints that he threw into danger with his aggressive saber style, not absorb hits.

The single pauldron went on first, covering his right shoulder - his dominant side, which he led with during his acrobatic movements. It was made of a thin layer of plastoid and reinforced with flexible durasteel mesh; it would support the muscles and cushion against forceful impacts, but it wouldn't stop a blaster bolt.

The magnetic clasps snapped into place, and Fourth rolled his shoulder experimentally. The pauldron moved with him, its segments allowing for full range of motion despite the coverage of the joint.

His left shoulder remained completely bare beneath the sleeveless tunic. To anyone who didn't know any better, the setup was odd and unbalanced.

But Phuwin did know better.

Fourth didn't stand still long enough to need armor on both shoulders. He was always moving. Always spinning, leaping, and throwing himself into impossible positions that made most defensive maneuvers useless beneath the onslaught of his attacks. The only protection he truly needed was for his shoulder that he threw forward when he moved. Anything else on his torso would only slow him down.

His gauntlets came next, the segmented plates slipping around his hands and wrists with little issue. The grey plastoid wrapped around his forearms in overlapping segments. They were reinforced at the wrists and knuckles, but were still flexible enough to accommodate the odd angles his dual-wielding reverse grips required. He had foregone most finger plating when he'd finalized the design and only wore enough to protect his knuckles from a disarming strike.

He flexed first his right hand, then his left. Then, he nodded.

"Better?" Phuwin asked.

Fourth grinned. "Much better."

The Padawan stood and adjusted the blast-absorbent vest beneath his tunic. His sides and hips were bereft of armor, just like Phuwin's, which left him free to bend, twist, and spin without anything holding him back but his own body's limits.

Fourth's entire countenance shifted. His stance changed. His weight moved to the balls of his feet. His knees bent ever so slightly, ready to explode into motion at a moment's notice. The minimal armor and tighter clothing emphasized his lean, muscular build. His nervous energy, which had been radiating off him since the arrest, evaporated into nothing. He carried no hint of his anxiety, only watchful readiness.

He looked like what he was: a Padawan trained for war.

Something in Phuwin twisted at the sight. Things hadn't always been this way. He remembered their early days at the Temple, a time when galactic unrest was far from their lives, and the name "Separatist" was only a faint idea in some politician's head. Before Geonosis. Before the clones. Before he'd been pulled aside four years early and told in no uncertain terms that his Trials would be now.

Padawans weren't meant for war. Jedi weren't meant for war.

He sometimes wondered, late in the night when his squad hit their bunks on the front lines, what their lives would have been like without the shadow of the Republic looming over them. He'd always shut that line of thinking back in its box quickly. There was no point to it.

"Phuwin." Fourth was looking at him now, head tilted slightly as he gestured in the direction of the boarding ramp.

Phuwin took a silent breath and held it for a fraction of a second longer than he needed to. When he let it back out, he willed his worries to go with it. His shoulder throbbed beneath his armor, but the plating did wonders for supporting the injured joints so that they didn't sag. Unfortunately, his arm would remain limp and useless.

He wrestled with what to do with the limb. He could put it back into the sling, but that would ruin the effect he was going for. His mind made up, Phuwin carefully manipulated the arm through the Force so that it was held at a relatively natural angle.

Then, he nodded. It was time.

They descended the boarding ramp together. Captain Cheg was waiting for them at its base, her expression neutral. Phuwin almost smirked when he saw the way her eyes widened slightly as they emerged from the ship. The guards behind her shifted their weight, and more than a few of them reached for their weapons. It was... cute.

Phuwin and Fourth stood before them as Republic soldiers in full combat gear. If they really were to try anything, they would lose. Badly.

Captain Cheg recovered quickly. "Your personal effects have been retrieved," she said. There was tension in her jaw despite her level voice. "You will now return to-"

"Captain," Phuwin interjected. He laced his words with a mixture of his will and the Force itself, wrapping them in layers of authority and calm that he certainly didn't feel. "We will need our lightsabers returned to us before we return anywhere."

"That is not-"

Phuwin stepped forward. "Republic military protocol requires active-duty personnel to be armed when appearing before foreign governmental bodies," Phuwin said. He made sure to keep his tone more conversational than demanding. He got the feeling that the Pantorans wouldn't be as receptive to demands as they would firmly polite requests. "Particularly when said personnel are providing testimony regarding classified military operations."

He felt Fourth's Force presence thrum with a mixture of respect and amusement, likely because he'd realized what Phuwin was really doing.

Every single word that had just come out of his mouth was complete bantha fodder.

He could dress it up in authority and Jedi solemnity all he wanted, but that didn't change the facts. Phuwin had just lied. Spectacularly. He silently hoped no one went looking into it.

He was hinging a lot of hope on people taking him at his word. Again, he blamed Pond.

Cheng stared at him for a long moment. Phuwin held her gaze. His armor helped - it was easier to project confidence when he felt like an immovable wall.

Finally, she turned to one of the guards. "Retrieve their weapons."

It said something that he moved to follow the order without any trace of hesitation.

Phuwin's lightsaber was returned first. The metal hilt settled into his palm like an old friend, the crystal within its casing humming softly as he reached through the Force to awaken it. Satisfied, he clipped it to his belt. Fourth followed suit the moment he had his dual sabers in hand. The last bits of his tension melted once their weight settled at his hips.

Phuwin nodded respectfully at Cheg. "Thank you, Captain."

They were led back through the docking facilities, but this trip felt much different than the first. Maintenance crews still stopped to watch the procession, but the stares had changed. They were wary, almost respectful this time. He heard the rumble of hushed whispers at the sight of the large Jedi Order symbol painted in white across the back of his chestplate and fought the urge to smile.

It was the exact effect he'd been aiming to achieve.

The guards flanking them maintained their positions, but it wasn't difficult for Phuwin to notice the way they kept just a little bit of extra distance between themselves and their Jedi prisoners than before. Their hands stayed well away from their weapons.

Fourth walked beside him, his head held high and nervousness completely gone.

As they approached the corridor that would lead them to the Assembly chamber, the last piece of Phuwin's plan clicked into place in his mind. He wouldn't beg for mercy. He wouldn't apologize. He wouldn't run.

He was going to walk into that chamber as a Jedi Knight and General of the Galactic Republic, and he was going to demand the release of his crew.

When they had become his, he wasn't entirely sure, but he did know one thing: Pond had trusted him to figure this out.

Phuwin wasn't going to disappoint him.

The Assembly chamber doors had to have been the last manual doors in the entire galaxy.

Phuwin almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the double doors swinging open slowly, their metal hinges creaking just loud enough to cut through the tense silence of the annex outside. Honestly, what was wrong with standard pneumatic sliding doors? He'd never understand the need for the pomp and circumstance of politics.

There was a reason he'd rejected an internship with the Diplomatic Corps and stayed well away from the Republic Senate unless Senators Earth and Mix asked for him personally.

Phuwin stepped across the threshold first, Fourth half a pace behind him. The chamber was larger than he'd expected. High vaulted ceilings soared overhead, their ornate Pantoran architectural details carved into the walls. Below, rows of elevated seating formed a semicircle around the central floor. Natural light filtered through tall windows, casting long shadows across polished stone.

Chairman Cho sat at the center of the raised platform. To his left and right were more Assembly members in formal robes. Security officers in stiff purple armor lined the perimeter.

And in the center of the floor, surrounded by armed guards, were Pond, Joong, and Dunk.

Phuwin's chest tightened. They looked rough.

Pond's synth-leather jacket was torn at the shoulder, exposing the dark fabric of his undershirt. A purple-black bruise was already forming along the tanned skin of his jaw. His hands were bound in front of him with energy cuffs that hummed faintly. Despite everything, he stood with his weight on one hip - deliberately casual in a way that screamed defiance.

A similarly restrained Joong stood to his left. His face was unbothered, but Phuwin could see the tension in his shoulders. His eyes flitted around the room, tracking each guard and weapon with the care of someone ready to fight at a moment's notice. A cut above his eyebrow had been hastily cleaned but not treated. A thin line of blood had dried along his temple.

Dunk looked the worst. He was pale and swayed slightly on his feet with each shallow breath. His hands trembled in their restraints. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut; his lower lip was split.

The moment Phuwin and Fourth stepped into the light, the entire chamber froze as if the oxygen had just been sucked into the depths of space.

Their teal and grey armor caught the natural light and threw it back in sharp reflections. The symbol of the Galactic Republic that was stamped into the pieces of armor on their chests gleamed white and unmistakable. Phuwin knew that the heavy plating made him look broader and more imposing. Even the sound of their boots on the stone floor carried weight.

The Assembly members leaned forward in their seats. The guards' grips tightened on their weapons. Chairman Cho's smug expression flickered with something that might have been uncertainty.

And Pond -

Pond's eyes locked onto Phuwin the moment he entered.

Phuwin saw the moment it happened. The moment Pond's casual posture faltered. He watched as the smuggler's breath caught, his chest rising and holding for just a beat too long. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

He was staring, and it wasn't with that teasing (and entirely unfair) heat Phuwin had come to know. There was no playful challenge there. No knowing smirk.

It hurt. It hurt viscerally, and Phuwin didn't quite understand why.

Pond's gaze slowly traveled from the gorget at Phuwin's throat down to the reinforced chest plate. His eyes lingered on the symbol on Phuwin's chest for just a moment, mouth twitching slightly, before they moved on to the bracers on his forearms. His expression was unreadable. There was shock there, which wasn't entirely surprising given that Pond had never seen him in his armor before, but there was something else that Phuwin couldn't quite name. His jaw worked like he was trying to find words and failing.

Then, as if catching himself, Pond's mouth curled into a lopsided grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Well," he said, his voice laced with forced lightness. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Princess?"

The Assembly behind him burst into a chorus of murmurs, and beside him, Phuwin felt Fourth's amusement reach out to him through the Force.

But Phuwin had seen the moment before it. The awe. The way Pond had looked at him as if he'd stolen the breath from his lungs.

The thought of it made Phuwin's stomach twist with shame.

He'd never wanted Pond to see him like this.

The armor was supposed to intimidate the Assembly. It was supposed to help him reclaim control of a situation that had been rapidly spiraling out of control. He'd taken the opportunity to wear it as a calculated move in a diplomatic game he'd begun to save all of them.

Standing under Pond's gaze made Phuwin feel exposed in a way that should have been impossible.

But Phuwin knew why: he was looking at a soldier, not a Jedi Knight.

Soldiers were what the Jedi had become during this war, though that was never what they were supposed to be. The armor was proof of it. The rank of General, a rank he'd accepted with a tense smile when he'd met his men for the first time, was proof of it. Every time he went back to the armorer for modifications to his combat gear, every piece of clone trooper plating painted in his legion's colors, and every moment spent poring over maps in harsh conditions was a reminder that he'd traded peacekeeping for command and meditation for tactical briefings.

The Galactic Republic hadn't even had a standing army when the war began. Now, it numbered in the hundreds of thousands - thousands of Jedi conscripted and even more clone troopers who never would have existed if not for a war they'd been born into.

Phuwin had spent the past year and a half of his life trying to reconcile what he was with what he was supposed to be. He'd never wanted Pond to see that contradiction.

He forced himself to hold Pond's gaze, fighting to keep his expression neutral despite the heat crawling up the back of his neck. Pond's grin widened slightly, but with that growth came a brittleness that pierced straight through Phuwin's beating heart.

"Pond," Phuwin said. He wasn't sure how he managed to keep his voice as steady as he did, but he was grateful for it.

Pond's grin faltered for just a fraction of a second before it slipped back into place as if it hadn't vanished in the first place. "Didn't know you cleaned up so well," he said. His eyebrow went up. "You should have told me you had a whole wardrobe back there. I would have kept the coat for myself if I'd known."

Joong shot Pond a look that clearly said shut up, but Pond ignored him.

Phuwin's jaw tightened. He wanted to say something in response. Something about how this wasn't him. The armor was meant to be a means to an end, not a permanent fixture, but the words stuck in his throat.

...it would have been a lie, and Phuwin had already lied enough.

This was him. Well, at least a part of him. This was the part of him that had learned to command troops, that had learned to plan battles, learned to wear the symbol and armor of the Republic like it was a second skin. This was the part of him that had learned what it truly meant to lose just as well as what it meant to win - and that there was very little difference between victory and defeat. One could come disguised as another and only strike under the cover of night, when troop reports came back or medical tents were visited.

This was the part that Pond was looking at with something that might have been disappointment hidden deep beneath the humor.

Fourth shifted beside him. The movement broke the spell that had settled over Phuwin, and he tore his gaze away from Pond to look toward Chairman Cho.

Cho was watching him with narrowed eyes, his confidence visibly shaken. The other Assembly members continued to whisper among themselves. Everyone's attention was fixed on the two armored Jedi standing in the center of the chamber.

Phuwin allowed the ghost of a smirk to cross his face.

Good.

He straightened his shoulders, ignoring the pain still radiating from his collarbone. The weight of his chest plate settled across his torso. The gorget pressed against the base of his skull. He carefully manipulated his arm through the Force so that it hung loosely at his side without seeming limp.

He stood with the stance of someone who refused to be moved.

"Chairman Cho," Phuwin said. He did his best to channel his inner Master Kenobi - or maybe a bit more Master Windu. Definitely Master Windu. He'd watched the man address the Senate enough during his time as a Padawan to know that he could be terrifying under even the sharpest of gazes. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding."

Cho's expression hardened. "There is no misunderstanding, Jedi. You and your... associates," he paused here and scowled when Pond wiggled his fingers in a little wave from within the confines of his binders, "violated Pantoran sovereignty-"

"We neutralized a Separatist reconnaissance operation," Phuwin interrupted. His tone remained calm, but he layered steel beneath the words. "An operation that was preparing to establish a listening post on Orto Plutonia. Had we not intervened, the CIS would have had unrestricted access to your communications, your trade routes, and your military movements."

The Assembly chamber erupted in frantic whispers.

Cho raised a hand, and after a moment, the noise died. "You had no authority-"

Phuwin bit back a grimace. "We had every authority," he said. He took a step forward, and the guards around the crew of the JASP.ER tensed. "Under the Military Creation Act and the subsequent Senate Resolution 3827, the Grand Army of the Republic is authorized to engage Separatist forces in any system that has declared allegiance to the Republic." Phuwin tilted his head at the Chairman. "Pantora is a Republic member world. The Separatists were operating on your sovereign territory. We acted well within our mandate."

That was a stretch, to put it mildly. Technically, they should have notified the Pantoran government before they did anything. He'd been right about that when they'd first been deliberating over what to do.

Now, he was banking on the fact that most planetary governments didn't actually read the fine print of Republic military law.

"That does not excuse-"

Phuwin didn't care. "Furthermore," he continued without acknowledging the Chairman's protest, "the intelligence we recovered on the planet has been transmitted to Senator Chuchi's office and will be forwarded to Republic Intelligence within the hour. The data includes CIS fleet movements, supply routes, and communication protocols. Your Assembly will receive full credit for the discovery."

That was a lie. They hadn't transmitted anything yet. What Cho didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The Chairman's expression flickered with interest. Political capital, Phuwin had learned over the many years of watching Master Tay talk himself out of hairy situations, was a powerful motivator. Phuwin was offering him a way to spin this disaster into a victory. Proof of Separatist interest in the system would motivate the Republic to establish a larger presence on and around Pantora, something Cho had been making noise about on the Senate floor for a while now.

"As for my associates," Phuwin said, gesturing to the smugglers without looking at them, "they acted as civilian contractors under my direct command. Any actions they took were done at my order and under my authority as a General of the Republic."

Pond made a soft sound that might have been a laugh. Phuwin refused to look at him.

"You expect us to believe," Cho said slowly, "that a smuggler and his crew were acting under Republic orders?"

There was a historical precedent for it. Technically. In the age of the Old Republic almost a thousand years ago.

Phuwin did not mention this fact.

"I expect you to recognize," Phuwin replied, "that the Republic does not abandon its assets. Civilian contractors or otherwise."

The threat was implicit, but it was clear: Prosecute them, and you're prosecuting Republic personnel. Are you prepared for the consequences?

The chamber fell silent.

Cho stared at him for a long moment. Phuwin held his gaze. He refused to blink or show even a flicker of uncertainty. He had to sell the threat. He had to sell the lie.

Finally, Cho leaned back in his seat. "The Assembly will need to deliberate."

Phuwin nodded respectfully. "Of course." He fixed a placid smile on his face. "We'll wait."

Cho's eyes narrowed. He let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a huff as he gestured to the guards. "Take them to the holding area. All of them."

The guards moved forward, and Phuwin finally allowed himself to look at Pond.

The smuggler was still watching him. His grin had faded, replaced by something else. Was that... concern?

No. That made no sense.

Phuwin looked away before he could think about it any further. He didn't hesitate as the the guards led him to a side exit. He'd done what he needed to do. He'd given Cho a way out; he'd made the consequences clear if the politician didn't take it.

Somehow, he still felt like he'd lost.

The holding area was smaller than Phuwin had expected.

The rectangular room was built with reinforced walls. A single transparisteel observation panel was set into the heavy durasteel door. Scuffed metal benches lined two of the walls. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and recycled atmosphere. Despite the humidity that clung to everything on Pantora, it was cold and sterile. Stifling.

Four guards stationed themselves at strategic points around the room. Two flanked the door. One stood near the observation panel. The fourth positioned himself in the far corner where he would have a clear line of sight to all five detainees.

Phuwin chose a bench along the far wall and sat with his back straight, his hands resting on his thighs. Each breath pressed his chest plate against his ribs, and at this angle, the gorget forced his chin slightly higher than what felt natural. He focused on the heavy, restrictive sensation as he finally released his hold in the Force on his numb arm.

The discomfort of his body was an emotional comfort in the aftermath of what he'd just done.

Fourth dropped onto the bench beside him with considerably less care. His single pauldron scraped against the wall as he leaned back, and he didn't bother adjusting it.

Across the room, Joong guided Dunk to the opposite bench with a hand on his elbow. Dunk's energy cuffs hummed softly as they moved. He was still pale, his swollen eye still a mottled mixture of blues and blacks that were growing deeper by the minute. Joong positioned himself between Dunk and the nearest guard. It wasn't obvious to the untrained eye, but it was deliberate enough that Phuwin caught the motion.

Pond stood in the center of the room for a moment longer than necessary. Phuwin felt his gaze upon him, but he refused to look back.

He kept his eyes fixed on the wall opposite him. The plating there had a faint scuff mark near the ceiling, probably from some frustrated prisoner's boot during their stay here. He focused his concentration upon mapping the mark's shape, its angle, its size...

...anything to avoid looking at Pond.

"Well," Pond finally said. "That was something."

No one responded.

The guard nearest to the door shifted his weight. His armor creaked.

Pond lowered himself onto the bench beside Joong and Dunk with exaggerated care. His bound hands rested in his lap. The bruise along his jaw had darkened. His dark hair fell over his eyes.

He was still looking at Phuwin.

Phuwin renewed his efforts to learn everything he could about the scuff mark. Surely there was something he'd missed.

"You okay, Dunk?" Fourth asked. His voice was quieter than usual.

Dunk let out a soft sigh. "Been better."

Fourth leaned forward slightly. The plates on his gauntlets clicked with the movement. "That eye looks rough."

"It's fine," Dunk muttered.

Joong's jaw tightened. He didn't say anything, but his hand moved a hair closer to Dunk's shoulder before he caught himself and pulled it back.

The guard in the corner was watching them.

Phuwin's chest felt tight beneath his armor. The weight that had comforted him in the Assembly chamber now felt like it was strangling him. His shoulder was on fire. The gorget painfully dug into the base of his skull.

He'd lied to the Pantoran Assembly.

He'd lied.

He'd fabricated Republic authorization, threatened diplomatic consequences, and claimed civilian contractors were operating under military command. He'd weaponized his rank and his identity as a Jedi Knight to manipulate a planetary government into releasing smugglers who'd violated their sovereignty.

The Jedi Code was clear about deception. There is no chaos, there is harmony. Lying to serve personal attachment was the antithesis of harmony.

And Pond had seen it.

Phuwin's stomach wrenched painfully at the thought.

He'd wanted the Assembly to see a General. He'd wanted to be someone that couldn't be dismissed or ignored. He'd wanted Chairman Cho to see a Republic soldier who couldn't be bullied into acceptance.

But he hadn't wanted Pond to see that.

He hadn't wanted Pond to see what the war had turned him into: a Jedi who wore clone trooper armor and commanded legions and stood in government chambers threatening consequences like some Senate enforcer. Like the Republic's attack dog.

He was exactly what the Order was never supposed to be.

"So," Pond said. His leather creaked as he leaned against the wall. "That was quite the performance back there, Princess."

Phuwin's good hand tightened on his thigh.

"Performance?" Fourth's voice was tinged with genuine confusion. "That wasn't a performance. That was-" He cut himself off, glancing at the guards. His enthusiasm dimmed slightly in the Force, but it didn't quite disappear. "That was incredible."

Phuwin closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear this. He wished the floor would swallow him whole.

"Did you see the Chairman's face?" Fourth continued. He was leaning forward now. His voice had dropped to a lower register that Phuwin guessed was meant to be subtle, but in true Fourth fashion was absolutely not. Phuwin opened his eyes. "He looked like someone had just told him his entire security force was made of training droids. And the way you just," he made a vague gesture with his hands that the guards definitely noticed, "walked in there and basically told him he didn't have a choice? That was-"

"Fourth," Phuwin interrupted quietly.

Fourth stopped mid-thought. "What?"

"Not now."

The bright beacon of enthusiasm in the Force winked out. He sat back against the wall. "Oh. Right." He tapped on his thigh with his fingers. "Sorry."

The ensuing silence was worse than Fourth's rambling.

Phuwin focused on his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He was forced by the chest plate to take shallower breaths than he normally would. When he was standing and moving, the plating wasn't an issue - it was built for that position. It was in the sitting and waiting that it became more of a hindrance than a help.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Except there was emotion. There was a churning, uncomfortable knot of it sitting just beneath his ribs where no amount of armor could protect him.

Shame. Guilt. Something else he was reluctant to name.

"Hey." Pond's voice was softer now. "Phuwin."

Phuwin's jaw tightened. He kept his eyes locked on the wall.

"Princess, look at me."

He didn't. He couldn't.

Across the room, Joond adjusted his position. His boot scraped against the floor. "Pond," he said in quiet warning.

"I'm trying to-"

"Leave it," Joong ordered.

Pond made a frustrated sound. "I'm not going to leave it. He just-" He paused, glancing at the guards. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. "He just walked into a government chamber and threatened its chairman to get us out of prison. I think I'm allowed to acknowledge that."

"Acknowledge it later," Joong replied. There was concern hidden beneath the flatness of his voice. "When we're not being watched."

The guard near the door shifted again. His fingers brushed the grip of his sidearm.

Phuwin's chest constricted further.

This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. He didn't care about the guards or the Assembly. Honestly, even Chairman Cho's threats were nothing compared to some of what he's seen on the battlefield.

He cared about this. Pond seeing him as the walking contradiction that he was, that Phuwin had fought and failed to reconcile. Pond seeing the Jedi who'd become a soldier instead of a peacekeeper.

The moment Pond's breath had caught in the Assembly chamber played on repeat in his mind. The shock. The awe. The shift from defiance to something else. He kept seeing it. He kept feeling it.

What Pond had seen was everything wrong with what the Jedi had become during this war.

"Phuwin." He didn't deserve the gentleness in Pond's tone. "Please."

Phuwin's hand tightened until the vambrace dug into his palms.

He couldn't do this. Not here. Not with guards watching and Fourth sitting beside him and Joong trying to protect Dunk while pretending he wasn't. He couldn't do it with the weight of his lies still sitting heavy in both his chest and his mind or the physical weight of his armor dragging him down, down, down into the depths of his failures.

"I did what needed to be done," Phuwin said. "That's all."

"That's not-"

"Chairman Cho needed an exit strategy that would help him save face," Phuwin continued. He slipped into that in-between space, the one that he relied upon in the trenches when his men were dying around him and the droids were too many at once. "I provided one. Now he can go to the Republic to ask for aid without losing political capital."

"Phuwin-"

His focusing stone was cold. "We should be released within the hour." His tone had become flat. Professional. It was the same voice he used when briefing his clones. "The Assembly will accept our intelligence as a diplomatic victory. Chairman Cho will claim credit for the discovery. We'll be escorted back to our ships and advised to leave Pantoran space immediately." He let a rueful grin flicker across his face before he smothered the expression. "You'll lose your favorite refueling stop, but there isn't much I can do about that."

Silence.

Fourth's presence in the Force reached out to Phuwin, nervous, concerned. Phuwin pulled his in until he was imperceptible to all but the most sensitive of Jedi. He didn't want Fourth's help. He didn't want anyone's help.

"That's it?" Pond's voice had lost the last vestiges of its warmth. "That's all you're going to say?"

"What else is there to say?"

"How about-" Pond huffed in disbelief. His voice returned, but this time with tightness that might have been frustration or hurt or both. Phuwin couldn't tell. He'd stopped trying to sense anything in an effort to keep his emotions contained. "How about the fact that you just threw then entire weight of the Grand Army of the Republic around to keep us out of a prison cell? Or the fact that you just rattled off enough legalese to make my head spin?" He leaned forward. "How about the fact that you walked in there looking like-"

The words died. Not because of the guards, though they were watching with thinly veiled interest, but because Pond understood. He knew what couldn't be said in this room. He knew what couldn't be spoken aloud without incriminating all of them further.

Instead, he just looked at Phuwin.

His eyes held the same intensity from the Assembly chamber. His jaw worked silently for a moment. His hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. He wanted to say something; Phuwin could tell just by the frustration that flickered across his features before he forced it down.

He simply held Phuwin's gaze, and everything that he couldn't say hung between them in the silence. The acknowledgement of the lines Phuwin had crossed. The shock of seeing him act like that. The surprise at the way Phuwin had walked into that chamber as if he'd belonged there, looking like the weapon he was.

Looking like everything a Jedi was never supposed to be.

Phuwin understood. He understood perfectly.

He wasn't sure what led him to the next words that would come out of his mouth. Maybe it was a lack of self preservation. Maybe he was just a masochist. Either way, the words came out before he could stop them: "Looking like what?"

Pond was quiet for a long moment.

The guard near the observation panel shifted. His armor creaked.

"Like someone I didn't know you could be," Pond finally said. His voice was soft, as if he were tiptoeing over the words, as if Phuwin were breakable and liable to shatter if he pressed too hard. "Like someone who could walk into a room and make people afraid without even trying."

There it was.

Phuwin had been dreading this exact moment. He wondered, vaguely, if this was what heartbreak felt like: tiny shards of glass picking and poking at his insides until every breath felt like it was burning him from the inside out.

"I see," Phuwin murmured.

"Do you?" Pond's tone sharpened. "Because I don't think you do."

Why was he arguing about this? "I think I understand perfectly-"

"You walked in there," Pond interrupted, "wearing armor that made you look like you could take on an entire battalion without breaking a sweat. You stood in front of a government official who wanted to throw us in prison and demanded our release. You threatened him, then you bribed him, and -" He broke off, swallowing thickly.

Phuwin's jaw tightened.

"And the whole time," Pond continued, his voice going soft, "you looked like you'd done it a thousand times before. Like commanding people and threatening them was as natural as breathing."

He hadn't thought it was possible to hurt this much.

"That's what you saw." To his own ears, Phuwin's voice sounded dull. He felt Fourth's eyes on him, likely out of concern, but Phuwin couldn't bring himself to look away from the speeder wreck happening before his eyes.

Pond's expression had turned into something too soft, too understanding to comprehend, and as much as Phuwin wanted to be anywhere else in the galaxy but here, he couldn't lower his eyes. He tried to tell himself it was his own bravery, his own need to face the unknown and accept the consequences for what he'd done.

"And that's what horrified you," Phuwin spoke into the silence.

It wasn't bravery. It was greed, pure and simple. He was drinking in the last of whatever Pond was willing to give him, because there was no way back after this. Why would someone like Pond, free-spirited, I'm not hunting droids for free, smuggler Pond, want anything to do with a soldier of the Republic? With Phuwin?

(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why he cared so much. He didn't dwell on it.)

A strange look flickered across Pond's face. "What?"

"When I walked into the Assembly chamber," Phuwin explained, his voice steady despite the knot that had formed in his throat. "You looked at me like-" He stopped. Swallowed. "You saw what the war has turned me into." He glanced at Fourth. The Padawan's lower lip was clenched between his teeth; his shoulders were tense. "What it's turned us into." He turned back to Pond. "We're Jedi who wear armor, command troops, and threaten governments to serve our own interests. We're everything the Code tells us we shouldn't be." His voice cracked on the last three words. Beside him, Fourth shifted uncomfortably.

Pond stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, his expression shifted into one of disbelief.

"You think," Pond said quietly, "that I was horrified?"

Phuwin stiffened. His jaw clenched as he nodded just once.

"You think that I watched you walk into that chamber in full combat armor, looking like you could take on the entire Pantoran standing army without breaking a sweat, and I was horrified?"

"You were-" Phuwin paused, unable to voice his thoughts. "You-"

"Princess, I wasn't horrified. Or disgusted. Or whatever you seem to think I was feeling." Pond's shoulders slumped. "I've seen you use the Force to take out an entire hangar full of mercenaries. I've seen you fight your way through a crew of pirates on the off chance you might complete the mission. I've seen you navigate us through a blizzard that should have killed us."

He leaned forward on his bench.

"But I've never seen you like that," Pond concluded. "I've never seen you walk into a room and make people afraid just by existing."

Phuwin couldn't breathe. It was as if his armor were constricting the muscles in his chest. Too tight. Too restrictive.

"It took my breath away, Phuwin," Pond said after a few seconds of silence. "Because you were incredible."

The word hung in the air.

Phuwin stared at him, his mind blank. Pond had managed to wipe every thought clean from his mind except that single word.

Incredible.

"You were..."

Pond's mouth curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I was a lot of things." He glanced at the guards. "But horrified wasn't one of them."

The hollow feeling in Phuwin's chest slowly began to fill with something warm and uncomfortable and entirely too complicated to process. He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat.

"Oh."

Pond grinned. "Yeah. Oh."

Fourth coughed into his fist. Across the room, Joong made a sound that might have been a sigh or a laugh. Dunk just thunked his head against the wall behind him. "Finally," the engineer muttered."

Fourth nudged Phuwin with his shoulder. "Wait," he said. His voice was laced with genuine confusion. "You seriously thought Pond was scared of you? Because you were being awesome?"

"Fourth," Phuwin said.

"No, seriously. How did you-" Fourth stopped. His gaze snapped to Pond. "Oh. Oh. You thought-" He let out an amused huff. "Phuwin. Come on. Have you met Pond?"

He had actually. More than once. Whether that was a good thing was yet to be determined.

"I'm right here," Pond reminded him dryly.

"Exactly," Fourth said. "You've been making heart-eyes at Phuwin since I met you. Why would you suddenly be upset he was a literal knight in shining armor?"

Dunk made a strangled sound.

Pond's ears were a deep crimson. "I have not been making-"

"You absolutely have," Joong interrupted before Pond could voice his objections. Beside him, Dunk let out a small sigh that might have been agreement.

Pond shot them both a dark look. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"We are," Joong said. "Which is why I'm about to remind everyone that you stole his necklace," he pointed to Phuwin, "just to get his attention."

...that confirmed Phuwin's suspicions, at the very least.

The guard near the door banged his blaster against the wall. The noise cut through the conversation, and the small group shifted their attention to the man. "Keep it down," he ordered.

The room fell quiet again, but the tension had shifted. The weight that had been pressing against Phuwin's chest lifted. Something almost like relief took its place.

He looked at Pond again.

The smuggler was watching him with the same intensity from before, but something else lurked beneath the surface. Something... softer. A feeling that made Phuwin's stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with fear or shame.

"So," Pond murmured across the silence, "we good, Princess?"

Phuwin took a deep, unrestricted breath for the first time since they'd stepped foot in the room. "We're good."

Pond's smile was genuine this time. "Good, because I wasn't looking forward to spending the next hour sitting here while you spiraled about whether I thought you were some kind of monster."

"I wasn't spiraling-"

"You were absolutely spiraling," Fourth said.

Phuwin shot him a look.

Fourth shrugged. "What? You were."

The guard cleared his throat. "I said keep it down."

Phuwin settled back against the wall. His armor was still heavy, but somehow, it didn't feel quite as suffocating anymore.

They walked back into the Assembly chamber in an odd procession.

Phuwin walked through the doors first, Fourth just a step behind. Pond, Joong, and Dunk ended up back where they'd been standing in their first visit, still flanked by armed guards that treated them with very little care.

Cho's expression was smug as his gaze swept over the two Jedi. "Master Jedi, the Assembly has reviewed the intelligence you provided regarding Separatist activity on Orto Plutonia."

Phuwin nodded. "Chairman."

"Your... intervention on the planet has proven valuable," Cho continued. His tone was measured, smothered in honey with an undercurrent of poison beneath it. Diplomacy. "The discovery of CIS reconnaissance operations in our system is a matter of significant concern to the Pantoran people."

A number of Assembly members' heads began to nod their agreement.

"The Republic takes the security of its member worlds seriously," Phuwin said.

Cho's expression didn't change. "Indeed. Which is why the Assembly believes this situation warrants a more permanent solution.

"The Separatist threat to our system is clear. Orto Plutonia's strategic position makes it vulnerable to further incursions." Cho leaned forward in his chair. "The Assembly requires assurance that the Republic will provide adequate protection against future threats."

Phuwin understood immediately. In fact, he'd guessed it would go this way back when they'd been deliberating over what to do about the secret base. He fought the urge to grit his teeth. At the time, he hadn't realized he'd be forced to get involved with the politics that would follow.

"The Republic maintains patrols throughout the Outer Rim," Phuwin slowly said, taking care with his words. "I can report the threat to the Jedi Council and recommend increased security assessments in the Pantoran system."

Cho's eyes narrowed. "Security assessments." His tone was flat. Unimpressed. Whatever advantage Phuwin had managed to claw back with his armor and military title was clearly no longer in play. "Master Jedi, the Assembly is not interested in assessments. We require a commitment to ongoing Republic military presence in this sector."

Phuwin's jaw tightened. "Chairman, I don't have the authority to authorize-"

"You have the authority to advocate," Cho interrupted. "As a Jedi Knight and General of the Republic, your recommendation carries significant weight with both the Council and the Senate."

That was wholly untrue - at least, on one front. Yes, he was a Jedi Knight. Yes, he was a General... but all fully fledged Jedi were made Generals. No one would be particularly impressed by that on Coruscant. Maybe he'd get a foothold in the Senate. Maybe. But even then, only from worlds with little-to-no Jedi presence who still believed the Order held an air of mystery to it.

He could advocate, but he highly doubted it would go any further than the Council punishing him for stepping outside the bounds of his position.

Across the chamber floor, Pond's shoulders tensed just enough to cause one of the guards nearby to reach for his weapon. The smuggler slowly relaxed, though his worried eyes never left Phuwin.

He's worried about losing his refueling stop. The realization settled uncomfortably in Phuwin's chest.

"The Assembly is prepared to release your associates and their vessel," Cho continued, "in exchange for your commitment to ensuring Republic involvement in addressing the Separatist threat to our system."

Phuwin's mind raced. He'd counted on the Pantorans advocating for themselves. He couldn't promise a permanent military installation, and actively calling for one would set a precedent he'd been trying to avoid. He'd have to bypass the Council if they refused to allow him to voice his petition to the Senate (which they likely would, because again, precedent). Then, the Senate would need to authorize funding and staffing. There were protocols. Procedures. All sorts of chains of command he couldn't bypass without stepping on many toes and making more than a few politicians (and Jedi) angry.

But.

He glanced at Pond. If he refused, the JASP.ER and its crew would remain in Pantoran custody. Phuwin would have to explain to the Council why he'd allowed Republic contractors - even if they weren't actually contractors - to be imprisoned by an allied government.

There was no winning this scenario, but Phuwin had to try one last time.

"I can advocate for increased patrols," he said. "Regular Republic presence in the system will be able to monitor for further Separatist activity."

"The Assembly requires assurance of permanent Republic military infrastructure." Cho's voice was final. "A base installation on Orto Plutonia to monitor the system and provide rapid response to threats. Your advocacy for this measure is the price of your associates' freedom. This Assembly will not change its mind."

Phuwin's stomach dropped.

Pond made a sharp sound. It was a quick intake of breath, nothing more, but Phuwin could feel his anxiety in the Force. When Phuwin glanced at him, Pond kept his gaze level and face completely blank. The only hint to his emotions came from his clenched hands.

Phuwin looked back at Chairman Cho.

The politician's eyes gleamed in the light from one of the nearby windows. He knew exactly what he was asking. He knew the position he was placing Phuwin in, and he knew the Jedi wouldn't refuse.

No Jedi would abandon the people he'd just risked everything to protect.

"The Assembly awaits your response, Master Jedi," Cho said.

The faint hum of the ventilation system was the only sound in the room.

Phuwin took a breath. His chest plate pressed against his ribs.

"Yes," he said quietly.

Cho's mouth curled into a faint, smug smile. Satisfaction rippled through the Force. "The Assembly accepts your commitment. Your associates will be released immediately, and their vessel returned to them." He turned to Pond. "You are advised to depart Pantoran space within the hour."

He gestured to the guards. "Return their belongings and see to their release."

Fourth breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Kriff, that was exhausting," he murmured.

Phuwin nodded, unable to trust his voice as the weight of what he'd just done settled in his chest.

The Pantorans had already dismantled the security perimeter by the time they'd arrived. The hangar's normal operations were back in full swing: ships coming and going, cargo being loaded, and life continuing as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened.

Phuwin had been stripped of his armor before they left the Assembly building. The Pantorans had insisted that there were security protocols they'd overlooked considering the circumstances, but were unable to any longer now that the trial was over. Now, he stood in his battle tunic and trousers, his armor plating in a bag slung over his good shoulder. His arm hung limp at his side, still free of the sling but stiff with pain. There was no point in keeping up appearances any longer.

He felt smaller without his armor.

Fourth stood beside him, similarly divested of his grey plating. He looked younger like this, more vulnerable. His Padawan's braid hung over his shoulder as he watched the JASP.ER's crew, sans Pond, who was waiting at the bottom, make their way up the loading ramp.

Phuwin's chest tightened.

The moment Joong and Dunk disappeared into the ship, his gaze found Phuwin. He took one last look at the ship, then crossed the hangar floor in long strides to stop in front of Phuwin.

"Princess," he said quietly. "We need to talk."

Phuwin glanced at Fourth, who slowly backed away. "I'm going to go get a new sling for you," he said with a small grin. He made a sloppy salute and darted toward the ship.

Pond's mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. "That's one way to do it," he noted. He gestured to the far side of the hangar. "Walk with me?"

They stopped near a stack of cargo crates. The overhead lights cast harsh shadows across Pond's bruised face.

Pond didn't wait for Phuwin to ask any questions. "You just promised a planetary government something you might not be able to deliver." His voice had taken on a serious tone Phuwin had never heard come from the smuggler before. "Do you have any idea what that actually means?"

Phuwin frowned. "I'm advocating for increased Republic presence in the system. The Council will-"

"The Council will verify your report and send it up the chain," Pond interrupted. "And then the Senate will debate it. Then some committee will review strategic priorities. And then, maybe, if you're lucky, they'll authorize a patrol route adjustment." He stepped closer. "But Cho didn't ask for a patrol route, Princess. He asked for a base."

"I know what I agreed to," Phuwin said quietly.

"Do you?" Pond's jaw tightened. "Because politicians don't forget promises like that. And when the Republic doesn't deliver - when the Senate decides Pantora isn't important enough to justify the cost and manpower - Cho is going to remember that a Master Jedi gave him his word."

Phuwin's shoulder throbbed. "I'll make sure the Council understands the severity of the threat."

Pond's laugh had no humor in it. "You think this is about the Seps? This is about leverage. Cho just got a Jedi to commit the Republic to a permanent military installation on his sovereign planet. That's a win for him no matter what happens next."

"What was I supposed to do?" Phuwin's voice came out sharper than he intended. "Let you rot in a Pantoran detention cell?"

Pond groaned. "I'm not saying you had a choice," he said. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying you need to understand what you just walked into."

The silence that fell between them left a hollow sensation in Phuwin's chest.

He wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that the Council would back him, that everything would work out the way it was supposed to.

But it would be a lie, and Pond's eyes held something that looked uncomfortably like pity.

"Just..." He sighed. "Be careful, Princess. You're playing a game with half the rules."

Before Phuwin could respond, Joong called out from the boarding ramp, "Pond! We need to go!"

Pond's gaze lingered on Phuwin for another moment. He nodded to Phuwin's bad shoulder. "Take care of that wound," he murmured. "And try not to start any wars while I'm gone."

He turned and walked back toward the ship.

Phuwin watched him go. Watched Joong clap Pond on the back as they climbed the ramp together. Watched as Fourth leapt off the loading ramp and landed on the floor.

The boarding ramp retracted with a mechanical whine.

Fourth moved to stand beside Phuwin as the JASP.ER's engines powered up. The repulsor lifts engaged with a low hum that vibrated through the hangar floor.

"We did it," Fourth said. There was relief in his voice, but also exhaustion. "We actually pulled it off."

Phuwin didn't answer.

The freighter lifted slowly, rotating on its axis as Pond maneuvered it toward the hangar's atmospheric shield. The ship's battered hull caught the light as it rose. There were still scorch marks from the firefight still visible along the port side, and the makeshift repairs Dunk had jury-rigged were holding together through sheer stubbornness.

Then the JASP.ER passed through the shield and disappeared into Pantora's thick cloud cover.

The hangar felt suddenly empty.

Phuwin's shoulder ached. The bacta patch pulled against his skin with every breath.

"Phu?" Fourth's voice was tentative. "Are you alright?"

Phuwin looked at his Padawan. Fourth's face was smudged with dirt and exhaustion, his dark brown tunic rumpled and stained. He looked young. Too young to have been dragged into this mess.

"I'm fine," Phuwin said.

It was a lie, and they both knew it.

Phuwin had made a promise he wasn't sure he could keep. He'd committed the Republic to a course of action without proper authorization. He'd lied to a planetary government, manipulated diplomatic protocols, and walked into an Assembly chamber wearing armor like a threat.

And Pond's warning echoed in his mind: You're playing a game with half the rules.

"Come on," Phuwin said quietly. "We need to get back to the Skipray and file our report."

Fourth nodded and fell into step beside him.

As they walked toward the hangar exit, Phuwin glanced back once at the empty space where the JASP.ER had been. The clouds had already swallowed it completely.

He had a feeling this wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

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The Jedi High Council chamber was one of Phuwin's least favorite places in the entire Jedi Temple.

Twelve seats arranged in a perfect ring. Tall windows that let in Coruscant's perpetual daylight. The hum of the city-planet far below, muffled by distance and transparisteel.

Phuwin stood in the center of the chamber.

Alone.

Fourth had been dismissed before they'd even entered the Temple's upper levels. Master Tay had met them at the hangar with a single, grim look that told Phuwin everything he needed to know: the Council had already heard about Pantora.

And they were not pleased.

Now Phuwin stood with one hand at his side and the other trapped in a sling, his injured shoulder throbbing beneath the fresh bacta dressing the Temple healers had applied. He wore only his simple Jedi tunic and trousers.

Master Mace Windu sat directly across from him, his expression carved from stone. Master Yoda occupied the seat to Windu's right, his ancient eyes were half-closed in what might have been meditation or sorrow. Master Obi-Wan Kenobi sat two seats down, as per usual, his arms were crossed over his chest. Master Plo Koon's masked visage was unreadable, but his posture radiated calm concern.

The silence stretched.

Phuwin's pulse hammered in his ears.

Finally, Master Windu spoke.

"You were assigned a survey, Jedi Tangsakyuen." His voice was low, gravelly, and utterly commanding. He didn't raise it. "A geological survey of the Pantoran moon system. A civilian assignment with minimal oversight and no military authority."

Phuwin swallowed. "Yes, Master."

"Instead," Windu continued, his gaze boring into Phuwin, "you chose to wage a private campaign. You fabricated Republic military authorization. You leveraged the name of this Order to extort a sovereign planetary government. You bypassed this Council entirely and committed the Galactic Senate to a permanent military installation without consultation, without approval, and without regard for the consequences."

Each word landed like a physical blow.

Phuwin's jaw tightened. "Master, the Separatist threat was real. If I hadn't acted-"

"You believe your actions were justified because you survived?" Windu's tone didn't change. Phuwin couldn't decide if that was worse or better. "Victory does not erase arrogance. You have compromised the integrity of the Senate. You have undermined the trust between the Republic and one of its member planets. You have demonstrated that you value your own judgment above the collective wisdom of this Council."

Phuwin's hand clenched at his side.

"The Republic is not your personal weapon to wield as you see fit," Windu said. His eyes narrowed. "You have placed this entire Order in a position where we must either publicly support your fabrication, thereby endorsing deception and unilateral military action, or repudiate you and destroy the Republic's political leverage over Chairman Cho."

Phuwin's throat felt tight. "I... I didn't intend-"

"Intention," Windu interrupted, "is irrelevant. The damage is done."

Silence fell again.

Phuwin stared at the floor. His shoulder ached. His chest felt hollow.

Then Master Yoda sighed.

It was a small sound, but it carried more weight than all of Windu's sharp reprimands combined.

"A General's armor you wore, yes," Yoda said softly. His words came out slow, as if they were heavy on his tongue. "But a Jedi's heart, forgotten you have?"

Phuwin looked up.

Yoda's eyes were open now, fixed on him with an expression that made Phuwin's stomach twist.

"To save a few, a dangerous precedent you set," Yoda continued. His ears drooped slightly. "Blinded by the immediate danger, see the wider ripples you did not. Extortion, deception... the tools of our enemy, these are."

Phuwin's breath caught. "Master, I was trying to protect-"

"Protect whom, Jedi Tangsakyuen?" Yoda's gaze didn't waver. "The Republic? Or those you have grown attached to?"

The question hit like a punch to the gut.

Phuwin opened his mouth. Closed it. He couldn't find the words to say.

"Win a battle on that moon, you did," Yoda said quietly. "But lose yourself to the chaos of war, you almost have." He leaned forward slightly, his small frame somehow filling the entire chamber. "Meditate on your attachment to this victory, you must. And to those you fought beside."

Phuwin's hand trembled.

He thought of Pond's grin in the hangar. Of Fourth's enthusiasm in the holding area. Of Joong's quiet respect and Dunk's manic brilliance.

He thought of the way Pond had looked at him in full armor - awed, breathless, proud.

And he realized, with sickening clarity, that Master Yoda was right.

He hadn't made that promise to Chairman Cho for the Republic. He'd made it for them.

"I..." Phuwin's voice cracked. "I understand, Master."

Yoda's expression softened, but the sadness remained. "Hope for you, I still have, young Jedi. But walk carefully, you must. The path to the dark side, paved with good intentions it is."

Master Kenobi cleared his throat.

"I can appreciate," he said, his tone measured and diplomatic, "the impossibly tight corner you were backed into, Jedi Tangsakyuen." He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward slightly. "And admittedly, your... creative interpretation of Senate Resolution 3827 was remarkably thorough."

Phuwin blinked. Was that - was Obi-Wan complimenting him?

"However," Kenobi continued, and the faint warmth in his voice evaporated, "you cannot simply hand out permanent military installations like trade concessions." He gestured vaguely toward the windows. "The Grand Army of the Republic is already stretched to a breaking point from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim. We are fighting on a dozen fronts simultaneously. Our supply lines are fragile. Our fleet deployments are calculated down to the last cruiser."

He fixed Phuwin with a look that was equal parts exhaustion and exasperation.

"You have forced the Senate's hand," Kenobi said. "You have committed resources we may not be able to spare to a system that was not a strategic priority. And you have left a mess that the Diplomatic Corps will be untangling for months." He sighed. "Heroism is a fine trait, Phuwin. But a General must look at the entire star map, not just the trench in front of him."

Phuwin's face burned. "I... I didn't think-"

"No," Kenobi said quietly. "You didn't."

The words weren't cruel. They were just... true.

Phuwin looked down at his boots.

His shoulder throbbed. His chest ached. He was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to crumble beneath him.

Then, Master Plo Koon spoke. His voice was calm, resonant, and filtered through the antiox mask he always wore. It carried a warmth that the other Masters' words had lacked.

"You found a threat to a Republic world," Plo said, "and you acted to eliminate it. For that, the sector is safer."

Phuwin's head snapped up.

Plo Koon's masked gaze was steady. "The Separatist listening post would have compromised Pantoran security and potentially endangered countless lives. Your actions prevented that. I do not discount the value of what you accomplished."

Hope flickered in Phuwin's chest.

"But," Plo continued, and the warmth in his voice shifted to something heavier, "a Jedi does not stand alone. By concealing your actions and refusing to seek counsel, you placed a burden on your own shoulders that you were never meant to carry."

Phuwin's throat tightened.

"Deception isolates us from the Force," Plo said quietly. "And from each other. You survived the ice, but you must not let the isolation of command freeze your trust in the Order."

The words settled over Phuwin like a shroud.

He wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that he'd had to act alone, that there hadn't been time, that the Council would have told him to wait for authorization that might never come. But he couldn't.

Deep down, he knew Plo Koon was right.

He'd skipped all forms of protocol because he chose to do so. That choice had led him here.

Master Windu stood.

"This Council," Windu said, his voice filling the chamber, "cannot publicly repudiate your actions without undermining the Republic's political position with Chairman Cho. The commitment you made to Pantora will be honored."

Phuwin's breath caught. Relief flooded through him-

"However," Windu continued, and the relief evaporated, "your conduct has demonstrated a dangerous lack of judgment and an alarming disregard for the chain of command."

Phuwin's stomach dropped.

"Effective immediately," Windu said, "your command of the 701st Legion is temporarily suspended and transferred to Jedi Knight Norawit Titicharoenrak."

Gemini. Gemini, who was already exhausted. Gemini, who'd just spent the past two months on the front lines. Gemini, who was supposed to be on a break for the next month.

Guilt crashed through his entire body.

"You will return to the Temple," Windu continued, "and undergo a period of intensive meditation and reflection under the guidance of the Temple scholars. You will address the attachments that Master Yoda has identified. And you will remain under strict supervision until this Council is satisfied that you are fit to return to active duty."

Phuwin's vision blurred.

He couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.

"Do you understand, Jedi Tangsakyuen?" Windu's tone was unyielding.

Phuwin forced himself to nod. "Yes, Master."

"Then you are dismissed."

The words were final.

Phuwin bowed stiffly, his shoulder screaming in protest, and turned toward the chamber's exit.

His legs felt like lead.

As he reached the door, Master Yoda's voice drifted across the chamber one last time. "May the Force be with you, young Jedi."

It sounded like a blessing.

It felt like a goodbye.

Phuwin didn't remember walking through the Temple corridors.

He didn't remember descending the turbolift or crossing the meditation gardens.

He only came back to himself when he found himself standing in his quarters, staring at the small window that overlooked Coruscant's endless cityscape.

The sun was setting. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink.

It should have been beautiful.

Phuwin sank onto the edge of his bunk. His shoulder throbbed. His hands shook.

He'd miscalculated. Badly.

He'd thought he was protecting people. He'd thought he was doing the right thing, but all he'd done was prove that he couldn't be trusted.

The Council had stripped him of his command. They'd placed him under supervision like a Padawan who couldn't control himself. They'd handed his Legion - his men - to Gemini.

And worst of all, they were right to do it.

Phuwin buried his face in his one good hand.

He'd been so sure he could handle it. So sure he could navigate the politics and the lies and the compromises. But he'd been wrong.

Now he was paying the price.

He'd saved lives on Orto Plutonia. He'd lost himself in the process.

He had no idea how to get back.

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Master Tay Tawan didn't bother with the receptionist.

He strode past the front desk of Senator Off's office suite with enough purpose that the young Twi'lek assistant didn't even try to stop him. The heavy doors to the inner office slid open, and Tay stepped through without waiting for an invitation.

Senator Off sat behind his desk, reviewing something on a holoscreen. He looked up at the intrusion with mild surprise that quickly shifted to wariness.

"Tay," Off said carefully. "I wasn't expecting-"

Tay slammed the datapad onto the polished surface of the desk hard enough that the holoscreen flickered.

"What were you thinking?" Tay's voice was controlled, but the fury beneath it was unmistakable.

Off's gaze dropped to the datapad. His expression didn't change. "I assume you're referring to the Pantora incident."

"The Pantora incident," Tay repeated, his tone sharp enough to cut durasteel. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Off leaned back in his chair. His fingers folded in front of him in that infuriatingly calm way he had when he was about to deflect. "The situation was handled. The Separatist threat was neutralized. Chairman Cho has his security guarantees. I'd call that a successful outcome."

"Successful." Tay's jaw tightened. He stepped closer to the desk. His hands clenched around the edge of the wood. "My Padawan just stood before the High Council and had his command stripped because of your successful outcome."

Off's expression flickered, just for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Phuwin made his own choices, Tay. I didn't force him to-"

"No," Tay interrupted. His voice was quieter now. "You didn't force him. You just made sure the pieces were in place so he'd have no other option."

Off said nothing.

Tay straightened and picked up the datapad. He scrolled through the report with deliberate slowness, his eyes scanning the text until he found what he was looking for.

"Naravit Lertratkosum," Tay read aloud. He looked up at Off. "Captain of the JASP.ER. Freelance cargo runner with a history of smuggling charges and a reputation for taking high-risk contracts."

Off's expression remained neutral, but his silence was damning.

"When did he leave your home, Off?" Tay's voice was quiet now. Too quiet. "When did you send him out there?"

Off exhaled slowly. He set down the stylus he'd been holding and met Tay's gaze. "Three years ago."

Three years. He would have been Phuwin's age when he'd left Coruscant.

Tay's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "And you knew what he was doing. You knew he'd be on Pantora."

It wasn't a question.

Off didn't answer.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. The hum of Coruscant's traffic outside the window was the only sound in the room.

Finally, Tay spoke again. His voice was rough, tinged with something that might have been grief. "Did you give him a choice?"

Off's jaw tightened. "Of course I gave him a choice."

"Did you?" Tay leaned forward again. "Or did he only agree because he had nowhere else to go?"

Off's composure cracked. Just slightly. His hands dropped to the armrests of his chair, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped them. "You don't get to do this, Tay."

"Do what?"

"Act like you care." Off's voice was sharp now. "You had years to check in on him. Years to visit. To ask how he was doing. To offer him something other than-" He stopped himself, his jaw working as he bit back whatever he'd been about to say.

Tay's chest burned.

"You didn't," Off continued. His tone was colder now. "You didn't visit. You didn't comm. You didn't even ask about him when we spoke. So don't stand there and pretend you have any right to question what I did or didn't do."

"That's not-"

"Pond made his choice," Off said flatly. "He's fine with it. He's good at it. And frankly, Tay, it's none of your concern anymore."

Tay stared at Off for a long moment. His old friend. His former friend, maybe. The man who had once shared late-night conversations about philosophy and duty and the weight of responsibility. The man who had stood beside him during the darkest days of the Senate's corruption scandals and never wavered.

That man was gone, or maybe he'd never been there at all.

Tay straightened. He picked up the datapad from the desk and tucked it under his arm. His voice was quiet when he spoke again, but there was no mistaking the finality in it.

"Leave my Padawan out of it."

Off's expression didn't change. "Tay-"

"I mean it, Off." Tay turned toward the door. "Whatever game you're playing, whatever pieces you're moving - leave Phuwin out of it."

He didn't wait for a response.

The doors slid open as he approached, and Tay stepped through without looking back. The receptionist glanced up as he passed. Tay didn't acknowledge her. He just kept walking, his boots echoing against the polished floor of the Senate building's corridor.

His hands were shaking.

He didn't stop until he reached the turbolift. The doors closed behind him, sealing him into the small space, and only then did he let himself exhale.

Pond.

Force, he hadn't thought about Pond in - how long had it been? A year? Two?

He'd told himself it was for the best. That Pond needed space. That the boy - no, the man now - needed to find his own path without the shadow of his past hanging over him.

But that had been a lie, hadn't it?

Tay had just been too much of a coward to face what he'd done.

The turbolift descended, and Tay closed his eyes.

He'd failed Pond. He wouldn't fail Phuwin too.