Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You exist within all living things. You are the energy that is created by all living things; you move through them, penetrate them; you bind the entire galaxy together.

You are the force.

Part of you is Ahsoka Tano, so you are also her.

You are Ahsoka Tano.

Ahsoka Tano is a Jedi. (Sometimes.) (Someone once called her a ‘part-time Jedi’, which is perhaps more accurate.) You are restless within her, and simultaneously at great peace. There is light, and there is dark. This is the nature of all living things. There was less dark, before. You acknowledge this.

Right now, it is the present day. Time does not apply to you. Neither does place, but if you focus, you are in a shuttle, orbiting a small amber moon which belongs to a planet that pulses with life. You are asleep. Intrigued, you prod the dark edges of your mind, imaginary fingers tracing the seams of awareness.

Then suddenly, it bursts.

Ahsoka plummets towards a place in her mind that she has never been before, although she could have, if she tried. You, mischievous you, have torn out the thread holding her safely in her little pouch of consciousness that was person-sized and safe and normal. Now she falls. Ahsoka does not panic, though the feeling twists to be acknowledged. She does not know what you have done, though she senses it’s bad. (It is objectively pretty bad, but how were you to know that?) The physical world is lost to her. Ahsoka pulls an arm over her body to touch her chest, and she is surprised to be unconscious, with physical awareness. Visions with physical awareness of one’s self are rarely achieved. That is why she believes this is the beginning of a vision.

Like a light switch, it’s dark, and Ahsoka is no longer falling. She doesn’t land, just stops. Slowly, she sits, takes a breath, and looks around. Pitch black, but every few seconds, light weaves through the void, sparkling like rain. The next thing Ahsoka tries is to wake up. She clenches her fists, testing, pinches her arm and claps her hands. Once, twice, but there is no sound. Does that mean she is not physically here? She isn't sure what any of this means.

“I’ve tried leaving. It doesn’t work.”

A glimpse of marbled red. A voice as soft as a knife.

Shock jolts Ahsoka. “M-Maul?”

“Lady Tano.”

Glowing yellow eyes prick the edge of the darkness. Ahsoka steels herself. This does not make sense.

“Am I dead?”

Maul’s eyes widen. “I don’t know, are you?”

“I thought…” She thought he would know. He knew a lot - used to. “I’ve never had a vision as real as this. And why are you here?” She fails not to be accusatory. “What do you know?”

The little sparks of light allow her to make out his shrug. His eyes close and she can’t see him anymore. “Nothing.”

Ahsoka reaches where she saw him last. “You’re dead, Maul.”

His eyes open again, rolling. “I know that much.”

“Do you remember-“

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about why you are here?”

“Why should I? This is strange for both of us. Can I touch you? Are you here physically, even though you’re dead?”

“No thank you,” says Maul, and shifts further back.

“Maul!” Ahsoka hisses.

“Maybe if you don’t wake up, you’ll die…”

“Was that delight in your tone?” Ahsoka glares. “Are you that lonely?”

“I don’t know how long I’ve been here,” Maul begins. He makes eye contact. “I don’t have any memory of where I was before this, I assume I was… dispersed within the force, dead, I think. My awareness returned, and I have been here.”

“What do you want? Maybe that will explain this."

Maul is thoughtful for a moment. “If everything goes as the prophecy foretold, the Chosen One will avenge me."

Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “That has happened."

His twisted smile gleams in the darkness. “Well, that’s nice.”

“Nothing else?”

“Not as far as I remember. Oh, wait! I wanted to rule the galaxy… shame.” He rolls his shoulders again. “Can’t do much about that now. Being dead is quite demotivating.”

“I’m sorry for your lack of motivation.”

“Don’t make fun, Lady Tano. Have sympathy for this poor, dead, ex-Sith.”

“I guess 'dead' is your only personality trait now.”

“You preferred me before?”

Ahsoka grimaces. She can’t argue with that. “No, sorry."

“I will be honest,” Maul says, “I haven’t felt this peaceful since before I lost the lower half of my body.”

Ahsoka fixes him with a reproving look. "You were Palpatine's apprentice then."

“Yes.” Maul sighs wistfully, chin sinking into his hand. 

Ahsoka rubs her eyes. Maul has already given her a headache and they've only been talking for a minute. There is still nothing but darkness and flickering light, and Maul’s steady, yellow eyes. “Do you know where you are?” Ahsoka asks.

“Why should I help you figure this out? You didn’t help me once. Also, in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear, I’m dead, so I don’t care what happens to you or anyone else who is still alive. Some of us aren’t so lucky, you know?”

"If we figure this out, maybe I'll get peace. I really don't want you as a voice in my head."

Maul grimaces. “B’ahor,” he mutters.

“In the Al'har system?”

"There is a dark power on that planet... I sense evil, but also... something else." His eyes burn. "Perhaps you will go there and die. That would solve this problem quickly."

When Ahsoka wakes up, her body is dangerously cold. She might actually have just been dead. It wouldn’t be the first time. She prods at a control panel with hands that refuse to stop shaking and eyes that refuse to focus. As warmth ebbs back into the small cabin, Ahsoka breathes herself back into a state of aliveness. The mattress and blankets are drenched in sweat.

She forces her legs to move until she reaches the nav computer, where in the viewport the stars stretch on for lightyears across the dark expanse of space. Ahsoka gives herself a moment until the floor stops moving to input the coordinates for B'ahor. 

There is a shift in the force, nudging her faintly. 

It feels like something has changed. Something huge.

Chapter Text

On a faraway planet, a Jedi dreams.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Where should I find them?”

“You will know.”

--

B’ahor is a mountainous wasteland. Blackened peaks spear a deep-ocean sky, and raging storms tear rock from their jagged mountain ridges. 

Ahsoka pulls her hood tight. Faint voices wail through the force, lost in the wind as it dives and crashes between mountain peaks. 

She doesn't get far before her attention is drawn to the cliffside.

Ahsoka's awareness brushes the girl’s spark of terror as she falls like a shot bird, clothes fluttering, curling in on herself, from the side of a narrow mountain ridge. Ahsoka does not think. She reaches, planting her feet firmly on the ground. Maybe she will be able to stand against the wind - she doesn’t know. It doesn't matter because she'll have to either way.

Her control over the Force tremours. The wind makes it difficult to figure out where to push and pull to draw the girl into a slow fall, but she's got her, and meets her before the ground does. 

“I’ve got you.” She uncovers the little face and takes in her ashen face and hollow features. Ahsoka glances towards the settlements.

A child should not be out here alone.

Something is wrong.

Ahsoka hesitates at the edge of a ridge overlooking the valley and makes use of the vantage point. She sets the still-unconscious girl down. Before her curls wisps of smoke, smouldering fires, and the skeletal remains of homes. The Empire. No, the… remains of the Empire. (Because the Empire is gone.)

Ahsoka’s gaze drifts back to the girl, her pale cheek brushing the fringe of her tattered cloak, eyes wrinkling as she twitches in the grass.

Then she hears it. A noise. Or, it’s like a noise - a soundless screech - it grates against her skull like a knife. 

Blaster fire follows and screams sear through the wind from the village below. Ahsoka reaches an arm across the girl and she narrows her eyes. 

The whips of smoke were not from burning buildings, they were from blaster fire, and there are more of them now, their coils smudging the distance. That noise… Ahsoka’s eyes flicker back to the girl. 

She knows two things.

Something brought the Empire here. 

And, whatever it was, Maul could sense it.

Maul's visions of the dark side… she didn’t believe him then, she couldn’t (Ahsoka clenches her fist), but this time… 

She'll give him a chance.

At this thought, the girl jolts suddenly awake.

“Shh,” she says. She releases her gently. “Young one, can you tell me what is happening here?”

The girl’s eyes blink rapidly, searching all around. Her pale, gaunt face is stretched into an expression of something lurking between terror and determination. 

“Do you understand?” Ahsoka whispers. 

The girl nods mutely. 

“What happened here?” 

Ahsoka rests her head in the crook of her arm and waits for the girl to be able to speak. 

“My family,” she stammers, “the noise made everybody...”

“What did the noise do?” 

“It… my family, they t-tried to…” Her breathing becomes rapid, her chest heaving. “Tried to..."

“It’s ok.” Ahsoka touches her shoulder. The girl's pale green eyes fix on hers. “I understand. I will help you.”

Her face breaks again. “I have to get away! Please help me.”

“Do you want to save everyone here, and your family?” Ahsoka asks. 

The girl pushes against the ash-slick ground. “How?"  

“We will find out what is causing the noise. Can you stand?”

Ahsoka lets her take a sip from her water gourd and gives her a ration biscuit. After a few minutes, her nerves seem to settle, and her small body stops trembling. “Let’s go,” she says.

Ahsoka smiles. “What is your name, young one?” she asks, offering her hand. 

“Mayan.” 

“I am Ahsoka. Mayan, do you understand why you have not been affected by the noise?”

Mayan startles. She looks away.

“You are like me,” says Ahsoka. She squeezes the small hand. “Come, we can talk as we walk. The noise, Mayan, can you sense where it comes from? It’s not too far. We will go there, and find out why it’s happening.”

“The cursed mountain,” says Mayan.

“Cursed?” 

Mayan fiddles with her torn sleeve. “We’re not… it’s dangerous.”

“You will be safe as long as you are with me.” Ahsoka beckons her to follow, and they dart across an empty street. 

“The stormtroopers are there,” Mayan tells her. The remnants of the Empire have stationed themselves behind a mountain of rubble, their ships and equipment dormant.

“How long have they been here?” 

“Since the noise started. Papa thought…” Mayan hesitates. “He thought they would help, but they didn’t. They made it worse by trying to drill into the mountain.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka says. 

They round the corner, and there is a man. Ahsoka grabs Mayan’s arm and tugs her back. She peers around. On the path, the man’s pale face is gaunt, his limbs emaciated, and he walks with a jitter, as if one of his legs is fused stiff. His eyes are empty, but he is not dead. 

“Did the noise do this?” Ahsoka whispers.

Mayan nods. "I was running away when you found me. I'm the only one left. I thought I would die."  

Once they reach the end of the village, Mayan points toward the cursed mountain, though Ahsoka needs no guide. The Force is strong in this direction. Cold and dark and angry. 

“A-Ahsoka!” 

Ahsoka’s vision blurs and her head splits open. Beside her, Mayan crumples to the ground and whimpers. Meters from the cursed mountain, the noise has increased tenfold in magnitude, and it takes all of Ahsoka’s strength not to be knocked down by the pure malevolence coursing through the Force.

But this power is the Force, and Ahsoka knows the Force. Sucking in a breath, she grits her teeth and focuses, until the noise ebbs away to a bearable, screeching whisper. 

Ahsoka kneels beside Mayan. “Concentrate. Imagine it’s the strong wind and you’re trying to move out of it, like you did before. Don’t let it knock into you.” She grips her arm. “Don’t resist, it’s stronger than you are - you have to avoid it. Mayan. You can.”

The girl’s face twinges in concentration, and soon her broken breathing evens out. Ahsoka holds her steady. “You are a quick learner,” she says. The blaster fire has left further smoke scars above the village. “Let’s go, Mayan.”

“What was that?” Mayan asks as they hurry towards the mountain. “That feeling… the...”

“The Force,” says Ahsoka. “The Force exists all around us. It is created by all living things, it moves through them, and it binds the whole galaxy together.” 

“How do you know about it?” 

“I was trained as a Jedi.” 

Ahsoka is surprised when her face remains impassive. There is no flicker of recognition, no spark of awe in her eyes. She just nods.

“In my village, people like that are called world breakers.”

“There are more of you?” 

“There were.” Mayan looks away. “The legends say that world breakers can take a planet in their hand and shatter it.”

“That's impossible,” Ahsoka says. She wonders why she had never considered that remote planets may have different legends about the Force. 

“According to our legends, we are children of the Great Universe. We follow its will, and move things without touching them.” 

Ahsoka means to ask if there is more to these legends, but Mayan comes to a halt suddenly and points to the rock face in front of them. “This is where it is, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Ahsoka can sense it too. This is where the Force has been leading them. The entrance. 

“How do we get inside?” 

Ahsoka presses her hand against the dark, grainy rock, tracing its veins with her fingers. “This is a temple. Do your people know about this place?” 

“We have stories about it.” Mayan frowns. “We’re supposed to never go inside, but… there isn’t a way in, anyway.” 

“There is,” says Ahsoka. “Put your hand beside mine, and push.”

Mayan hesitates. 

“The way to stop the noise can be found here. It's the only way to save your family.” 

Mayan’s pale hand joins hers. It is wry and wrinkled, like the claw of a bird. 

“Push.”

With an earsplitting crack, the face of the mountain breaks open. The sound reverberates, rebounding through valleys and between jagged peaks, and there is no way it hasn't alerted the stormtroopers to their position. 

“Quickly,” says Ahsoka. Mayan follows her into the shadows. 

The only source of light thrums from Ahsoka’s white sabers. Darkness swirls around them, emptiness, Ahsoka cannot sense the structure of this temple. It’s just space. Huge. She shivers, feeling very small. Could there be… no discernible structure? Are they already in some sort of Force vision? Ahsoka searches for Mayan, but to her horror, the girl has vanished. She whirls around. The entrance to the cave glows; a crack of sky-light. 

“Mayan?” she calls.

“Put your hands up,” says a gruff voice. 

A clone? What’s a clone doing here? Ahsoka turns, searching for the source of the voice. He must have snuck behind her while her senses were dulled by darkness and now hides in the shadows. “Who are you? Do I know you?” Ahsoka asks, quickly. “Are you one of my men?”

“I’m not one of those.” A chuckle. Not a vision, then. “We are here for the relics in this temple. Looks like I’ve found one already.” 

“Where is the girl?” 

“Not with me.” 

“Did you see where she went?” Ahsoka asks the darkness. “This place is dangerous. Whatever you are here for, I can promise you it isn’t worth it.” 

“I don’t know about that.”

“How much are they paying you?” 

“Even I thought it was too much.”

“Because you will die,” Ahsoka says. 

“I thought so, too. But perhaps, not so much now.” 

“You cannot assist me, and I will not permit you to take anything from this temple.”

“What’s inside?”

“Sith relics.” 

“I see.” 

Light glints in the darkness. Ahsoka readies herself to pounce, but before she can, he steps out. 

It’s not a clone. It’s a Mandalorian. 

“Boba Fett…?” Ahsoka whispers. 

“I’m not alone,” Boba Fett warns. His head tilts, arms folded over a rifle. Despite being outclassed, his posture is confident. “You have no reason to harm me. I know what you Jedi are like.”

“I am no Jedi,” says Ahsoka. 

For a moment, Boba Fett’s grip tightens around his weapon. Then he steadies. “I know who you are. Ahsoka Tano. You were a Jedi.”

“Not anymore. But I will not harm you, so long as you abandon your mission.” 

“I don’t know. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Ahsoka exhales. This has become much more complicated than she imagined, and she just walked into a Sith temple. “Boba Fett, I can guarantee you that you will die if you follow me, and not necessarily by my hand,” she hisses. Perhaps the temple has made her touchy. She doesn’t think about it for long. 

“I’ll stay close, then.”

“I won’t protect you.” 

“I’m not so sure. I sound like them, don’t I?”

Ahsoka stills. Boba Fett… She grips her sabers so tightly that she can’t feel her hands. “I didn’t realise you were like this,” Ahsoka says, through gritted teeth. “Fine. Perhaps we can mutually benefit each other,” sarcastically, “perhaps this is the will of the force.”

“Indeed,” Boba’s gruff voice responds. 

“Keep an eye out for the girl. My senses have been suppressed.”

“Is that a Sith thing?” 

“It’s a this temple thing.” 

“Ah.” 

Near-infuriated (and she really shouldn’t be touching on anger in a Sith temple), Ahsoka continues, Boba Fett’s footsteps thumping behind her. He walks like them. Of course he does. He sounds like them. And he looks like them, she’s sure, under that beat-up green and red Mandalorian helmet, nicked by scratches and blaster dents. 

“Where have you been?” she asks him, once she has calmed down enough not to betray the frustration in her voice. “The galaxy thinks you’re dead.” 

“In a sarlec pit on Tatooine.” 

“Are you joking?” 

“No. It was unpleasant.”

Ahsoka shakes her head. “And how did you end up there?”

“Working for imperial fools. It was a Jedi, actually, the one who knocked me in. Apparently one of them strangled Jabba the Hutt. Don’t know if she was a Jedi, though.”

“I’ve heard that story.” 

“Who from?”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes.

“I’m kidding,” says Boba. “I’m not going after any more Jedi.” 

“Decided to take on an easier job?” Ahsoka glares at the darkness, which is still there, everywhere. “Nice work. You really hit the jackpot.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad.” A figure emerges from the darkness. Boba readies his blaster. “I spoke too soon.”

“Mayan…?” Ahsoka hesitates. A red saber ignites in the girl's hands. 

Ahsoka must be cursed. She takes on an apprentice for two seconds and she’s already turned to the dark side. 

“Mayan, can you hear me?” Angry red streaks through the darkness, and Ahsoka readies a fighting stance. 

“Surely she can’t do much-“

“She’s possessed,” Ahsoka warns. “Stay out of this.”

“I’ll back you up.” 

Ahsoka eyes the girl. She can’t make out her face, her body sways from side to side as though she’s asleep. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Depends how dangerous she is.”

Mayan’s voice rasps and echoes in the endless cavern. “They told me… I’m too weak… that they can make me strong. They’re growing stronger. His anger… I can feel it.” 

She tears towards Ahsoka like blaster fire. Ahsoka blocks her wide swing, and they are nose to nose. “Mayan,” she says. “It is a trick. You must resist.”

“I want to save them but I hate them,” Mayan screams. “I hate them for trying to kill me!” 

“Do not be controlled by your fear.” Ahsoka’s sabers crackle as she pushes against the Sith weapon. 

Mayan’s gaunt face is illuminated blood red. Her pupils dance the length of her blade, teeth clacking. Ahsoka notices for the first time that it is not hair, but feathers, rich, dark brown, under her hood.

She is not lost. She is afraid. 

The cable-slither of a fibre-cord whip and Mayan is ensnared, Boba tugs the cord and the evil saber slips from her grasp and the red light vanishes.

“Mayan.” Ahsoka grips her shoulders as she writhes like a snake. The Sith weapon flies into her hand. 

“No! No, let me go! They’re going to kill us! They’re going to—”

A darkness slams into Ahsoka, engulfing everything in sight: the faint slivers of Mayan’s pale skin, Boba’s helmet, her white sabers. Ahsoka stills. Mayan is no longer in her grasp. She reaches, carefully, into the darkness beyond, but there is only nothingness.

“Ahsoka.”

The voice of a goddess. Pale and shimmering, cyan, gold, ethereal and bright. 

“The force surrounds you.” 

A punch of red energy. Ahsoka is thrown into a new plane of awareness as if gravity had shifted, her mind lurches. A wheezing, mechanical sound. She grips her sabers to ground herself. A dark shadow. No, no, no.

“Ahsoka…"

Vadar. His dark form trembles with rage and power, he raises his saber to strike her down and Ahsoka can do nothing but let her knees give out beneath her. No matter how tightly she clings to her sabers, no matter how desperately she wants to raise them, she cannot. In her hands, she carries a weight so immense that they crash to the ground. 

“The soul that the daughter gave you has been troublesome for the Sith. Now, I will destroy it.”

And then there is more red, and fear, and pain. “Get up and fight him!” screams Maul. “You Jedi, who preach about fear…” Metal thunks as Vadar is forced back against Maul’s barrage of attacks. “Ahsoka Tano are you afraid?”

“I am no Jedi,” Ahsoka says.

“Both failures. Both disappointments. I feel your anger.” Vadar’s voice booms. “Use it to strike me down and become what you were always meant to be.” 

“Get up! Get up and fight!” Maul grunts as he is forced to bend backwards against Vadar’s strength. He holds his ground, straining. “We share this hatred!” 

Ahsoka’s hands are as still as stone. She leaves her sabers — they are too heavy to carry — and stands. Vadar is dead. Anakin is dead. She cannot avenge him, and she cannot save him. It has been done. And yet, the feelings cling to her like a damp cloak, licking her skin and seeping into her muscles. Something about this… it’s strange. Ahsoka remembers the daughter’s words, a sound that rang like bells on golden lips, and feels her awareness brush something that she does not truly understand, but does not need to. Wordlessly, she stands. 

Maul is thrown to the ground, and Ahsoka stands in his place, and is stuck down.

“What are you—” 

Yellow eyes blink. The Sith is gone, dark formless mist swirls in his absence. Ahsoka gasps, clutching her chest where the saber ran through her. “There was nothing to fight,” Ahsoka says, steadily. “This man was broken. He existed only in darkness, and he became darkness. He was nothing. It is the pain he caused that lingers here.” 

Maul now sits cross-legged. He squints at Ahsoka, and purses his lips. “How did you know that?”

“Something strange is happening.” Ahsoka sits oppose him, closing her eyes. “The darkness is getting stronger, but so is the light. I can feel her, for the first time.” 

Maul says nothing. Perhaps he knows of the daughter, perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps he is just sour that Ahsoka defeated their opponent without fighting. 

“You were right about this temple. What can you sense, now that you are here?” 

“My exasperation.” 

“No…”

“Your exasperation? What do you want me to say. I am dead, yet I am here. I do not want to be here, but I am.” 

“What did you expect I would find here?” Ahsoka opens her eyes. Maul is staring at his lap. He flexes his legs, his muscles. 

“Answers,” says Maul.

“Answers to what?”

“I don't know.” He scowls. “Yet. The force is… restless. It has brought me together and brought me to you, and now it reveals a darkness more poignant than I could ever have imagined.” 

“You believe the Sith will return.”

“The nature of the force is balance. I would not be surprised, no.” He bites at his nails. “The force is stronger, clearer. You should find the relic of this temple and leave quickly.”

Ahsoka’s mouth lifts. “You’re going to make yourself useful, then.” 

“Don’t count on it.” The scowl returns. “I might not exist for much longer like this.” 

Before Ahsoka can ask him what he means, she is flung from her vision onto the hard, smooth rock of the temple floor. 

“Are you alright?”  

The voice oscillates; near, then far. Ahsoka opens her eyes to darkness again. “Rex?” she murmurs.

“Ahsoka please wake up! Please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” A little voice cries.

Ahsoka remembers. “Mayan…” She breathes through aching lungs, arms sleepy and tense, and she pushes herself to a sitting position. “I’m fine. Are you both ok?”

“You blacked out,” says Boba Fett, “and were speaking to someone.”

“When I, um, when the dark stuff came out of me, I thought it had got you instead.” 

“I think it did,” Ahsoka smiles. The Sith weapon is clutched tightly in her hand, and she examines it closely, noticing the intricacies of the pattern and design. It is unlike any lightsaber she has ever seen. Long, like a double-ended blade, but thin, and mosaiced with blue and red and black stone. When she ignites it, it is dark blue. “Strange…” she murmurs. Mayan’s eyes are wide on the other side of the blue. “The blade is cold.” 

“I don’t think you should touch it,” says Boba. “The darkness went inside.” 

Cold prickles in her chest like little pieces of ice. She shuts it off. “It has the potential for darkness, and to corrupt. It has… a will.” 

“Well I don’t want to find out what it is.” 

Ahsoka blinks. Not, Rex. Force, she’s all over the place. Ahsoka stands and reaches for Mayan’s hand, slipping the Sith weapon into her belt.

“Do you think it has a name?” Boba asks.

Ahsoka raises a brow. “Do you want to name it?” 

“Deathsaber.”

She laughs. “I take it you don’t want it, then.”

“Not a chance.” 

--

Outside is chaos. Mayan clings to the sleeve of Ahsoka’s cloak as Boba and his partner shatter the helmets of Storm Troopers with brute force and blasters. Ahsoka takes Mayan back to the village, where she hopes to find her family, safe and well, but if Ahsoka has learnt anything, it’s that nothing is ever straightforward.

Troopers confront them in the town centre, where the broken statue lies with its face cracked in half. Standing beside it, Ahsoka can see that it’s the statue of a feathered person, like Mayan.

“Go to your family, I’ll keep them busy.”

The Troopers stand, ready, blasters pointed; a cluster of helmets with black visors. Ahsoka ignites her sabers. These soldiers always seemed less human than the clones. She burns at the thought.

“What are our orders?”

“We’re supposed to retreat.”

“Retreat?”

“Our objective has been compromised.”

“So we’re just—“

“Are you deaf? Get outta here, trooper!”

Ahsoka is on one of them in an instant, leg pressing into his white shell. “Whose orders are you following?” she all but yells.

“Get off, rebel scum!”

“Who stationed you here?” Ahsoka shudders violently. But it can’t be. But it could be—

She is distracted by blaster fire. Hopping back from the trooper, she deflects the blasts, sabers humming with each swoop. Ahsoka grits her teeth. No, it couldn't be Thrawn, it wouldn’t make sense. This is Sith. Are they following a Sith’s orders?

The troopers scramble back up the rocky slopes, and with a jerk, Ahsoka sheathes her sabers. She breathes in frustration. They likely don’t know anything, she will have to investigate this mystery from a different angle.

Ahsoka races after Mayan, who she can sense, just faintly. Her presence in the force on this planet is like a dark blot on white paper.

“There are more of you?”

“There were.”

Ahsoka rounds a corner, and there she is. Mayan, buried in the embrace of her mother and father, and her aunts and uncles and cousins or siblings in the wide doorway of their cone-roofed hut. Ahsoka smiles.

Mayan’s head tilts, she turns, green eyes finding Ahsoka’s. She smiles too, brightly, and waves, brown feathers poking out from her sleeve. Then she disappears.

Ahsoka stands there for a moment. She isn't sure why.

Boba clears his throat from a meter away. “That’s them all gone.”

His partner is a woman with an oddly shaped orange visor. Her eyes narrow, crinkling, in what could be a smile or a grimace.

“What will you do now?” Ahsoka asks.

“Tell you what we know about the person who hired us.”

Ahsoka is speechless for a moment. “O-okay. That would be… uncharacteristically, good, of you.”

Boba chuckles. “Hey, you should try getting digested in a sarlac pit and joining a tribe of sand people.”

“It changes a person,” the woman adds, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“That sounds like quite the story.”

“Could have been,” says Boba Fett. “This doesn’t mean I’m joining a rebellion.”

“You don’t want to be a bounty hunter anymore,” says Ahsoka.

“Like I said, I’m sick of working for fools who are gonna get me killed.”

“I can promise that the company of a former Jedi will be anything but safe.”

“That’s why I’ve got a favour to ask you.”

Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“Tatooine.” Boba’s fist tightens around his blaster. “It’s fallen under the control of Pyke scum. Spice is ruining the place.”

“I need to stay out of sight,” says Ahsoka.

“You want to know who hired us.”

Chapter Text

Ahsoka agrees to meet Boba Fett and Fennec Shand on Tatooine. They part ways to return to their ships, and Ahsoka wonders what she has gotten herself into. “Maul, this is all your fault,” she says out loud as she boards her beaten-up carrier, though she doubts he can hear her. Hopes he can’t. That would be weird.

The engines rattle. Ahsoka gives it a minute, then sighs. Outside, the situation is somewhat clearer; one of the panels is loose and some wiring has been dislodged, likely by the fierce wind. She is almost finished fixing it when she realises she’s not alone.

“Mayan?” Ahsoka turns, she blinks as though she can’t quite believe her eyes. She’d sort of hoped… so she thought she had been imagining her. But no; Mayan is here, standing with a bundle of possessions, cloak fluttering, unable to meet Ahsoka’s eyes.

“I—” Mayan’s lip twists down. “I can explain. Can we go? Before my family realises?”

Ahsoka shakes her head. She can sense her fear, an ice-cold blanket around Mayan's frail body. Ahsoka can't take her. It's too dangerous.

Mayan’s face breaks. “Ahsoka, please!”

“You are too old to be trained as a Jedi.”

Mayan purses her lips. “I can’t… stay with them. Every time I see them, I remember that they…” Her breath quickens, and her voice tightens. “It won’t ever be the same as it was before!”

“It would get better.”

“No,” says Mayan. “No, you don't understand.”

Ahsoka does. She does understand. “Leaving without saying anything is—”

“It's the only way. Please.” 

Ahsoka wants to do the right thing. The right thing is often, nearly always, to follow the will of the Force, and here she is: Mayan. Her apprentice. You brought her to Ahsoka, and Ahsoka will take her on this journey. “Let’s go, then.”

Mayan smiles brightly, for the first time.

Her little world breaker.

—

Luke wakes up, the words slipping from his mind. He scrunches his face. The past few months, his force dreams have been thick with fog, impenetrable, as if the force itself was not quite present. And now, this one has broken through.

Go somewhere...

Meet someone...

Meet who?

His father rarely ever enters his dreams or appears to him. If he wants Luke to meet someone, it must be someone who was important to him.

The morning light seeps in through golden cracks in the newly built temple walls. Luke dresses in his usual simple, lightweight, black robes and takes some time to stretch outside and clear his head. Though, the vision assails his mind like a broken holo-projection no matter how much he tries to focus on the Force. He goes back to get Grogu. 

The youngling's dark eyes blink up at him like the vast expanse of open space. “Mu?” Grogu says as Luke taps his forehead. 

“Wake up, Grogu. We’re going on a trip today.”

Grogu huffs, possibly a little annoyed at the lack of information. Luke picks up undertones of: We can go on a trip but not see the Mandalorian? 

“I don’t know where we're going yet.” Luke smiles. He lifts Grogu from the cot. “That’s what I have to figure out. Let’s meditate.” 

As usual, Grogu trails after him, getting distracted by every little thing on the forest floor. Luke lifts him with the Force, making him hop. It speeds things up somewhat. 

“If you can focus this morning, there’s something I want to give you.” 

Grogu tilts his head from below. 

Luke chuckles. “You’ve come a long way since you became my padawan, and I think you are ready. I know it's been hard for you.”

“Bu.” 

They meditate every morning on a grassy hill with a sunken top. Up here, water collects, and the ground becomes marshy, sometimes a small pond forms. Today, Grogu jumps after the frogs, and they scatter into the water with a plop. 

“Focus,” Luke reprimands. 

Grogu looks at him sadly. 

Luke sighs and te takes a seat on the boulder beneath an old tree with winding branches. Grogu has come a long way, but Luke sometimes wonders if his heart is really in it. Teaching is harder than he thought. He’s fortunate that Grogu remembers much of what he learnt from before, so it’s more a process of him remembering than Luke actually teaching him. Leia was a more challenging pupil, in a different way. She never asked to be a Jedi, after all, it was just something that she could do, therefore she did it. Luke is just satisfied knowing that she could protect herself with the force if need be. 

Half an hour passes, and Grogu has lost focus again. Luke takes a deep breath and doesn't say anything, just lets him poke the frogs for a few minutes. He’s about to eat one when Luke opens his eyes. “Grogu,” he says. 

“Patu.”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know what you were doing.” Luke stands. “Alright, let’s go eat. I think I know where we’re going.”

“Mu?”

“I can feel the force pulling me towards Tatooine,” Luke says. “Did you feel anything?”

Grogu seems to frown.

“You did, didn’t you? That’s good, Grogu. Really good.” Luke helps him hop over the pond, to Grogu’s dismay. He peels his eyes from the chirping frogs and toddles after Luke. “Do you understand what you saw?” 

Grogu narrows his eyes. His nose scrunches and he makes a little grunting sound. 

“It was about me?” Luke turns to him. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Visions cannot always be trusted. It takes great discipline to discern reality from falsehood. Whatever you saw, may not mean anything, but the Force works in mysterious ways.” 

Grogu huffs. Luke bites back a smile. He isn’t wrong — the Force is a real pain sometimes. 

Breakfast is grains that Luke managed to cultivate, or, more accurately, the droids. From what Luke has observed, Grogu is mainly carnivorous, and although Luke wonders whether it breaks some sort of Jedi principle to eat other living creatures, he allows Grogu to keep his usual diet. Luke only asks that he eats the frogs with some semblance of table manners. He thinks Aunt Beru would be proud. 

After Grogu has stuffed the last frog down his throat, Luke gets him to sit opposite him in the main room of the temple. He has brought out a dusty wooden box from behind an out-of-place stone in the wall, which forms a secret compartment. Not that there’s any real need to keep it hidden. 

“I want you to have this,” Luke says. He lifts the lid and takes the length of metal out with his gloved hand. “It belonged to Master Yoda. I think that he would have wanted you to have it after him.” Luke ignites the weapon, and Grogu’s eyes widen, pupils blown green. “If you take it, you are my first pupil, and a Jedi padawan.”

—

With Mayan, everything about Ahsoka’s life changes. She met people before who told her that children would turn your life upside down, but she could never quite place herself in that position. Mayan is not her child, but her cloak somehow always ends up strewn over random surfaces, and the feathers seem to get everywhere. Ahsoka saw Mayan’s feathered arms properly the first time she ditched her cloak on the co-pilot seat. Brown and glossy, with a hint of rust and stone; they trail from her shoulder blades, stretching across her arms. Mayan wears wide sleeves to accommodate. The flight feathers are huge, as wide her body, and they fold neatly into her side when she brings her arms in.

“Can you fly?” Ahsoka asks.

Mayan only grins.

The journey to Tatooine would have been short, but Ahsoka wants to stop to pick up some supplies. Mayan is good and stays close. Ahsoka will need to get her a lightsaber, because she can’t exactly use the deathsaber, and if she’s going to train her as a Jedi—

Just to keep herself safe, of course.

“Are those… fruit?” Mayan gapes at the colourful, prickly meiloorun.

—

Boba Fett and Fennec Shand are preparing for war against the Pyke Syndicate, who will bring ruin to Tatooine through the spice trade. For now, the sands are still. Fennec Shand meets Ahsoka where she landed her shuttle, on the outskirts of the Northern Dune See, as the suns set. Jabba’s palace strikes the skyline.

“Boba’s palace,” Fennec corrects without animosity. She’s simply stating a fact.

Ahsoka wonders what happened to Stinky. Hey, that was her first mission as a Padawan. She’s gone full-circle.

“Jabba was a notorious crime lord,” Ahsoka explains to Mayan as the girl navigates their sandy path to the palace. “His death caused a great power vacuum. I take it Boba hopes to fill it?”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

Ahsoka remembers something. “Are there still slaves on Tatooine?”

“Not as far as we know,” says Fennec.

“How can you not know?”

Fennec pauses from up ahead to stare at her. “There’s a lot to do. Plus, we aren’t Jedi. Isn’t protecting the weak your job? Or… if you aren’t a Jedi anymore, I guess you don’t have to.” She shrugs.

Ahsoka glares at her back. “I didn’t leave the Jedi order because our morals didn’t align.”

“So what? None of that matters anymore. There are no Jedi left, so nobody can say what they believed in.”

“Jedi were supposed to be peacekeepers, but during the Clone Wars… even before then, the Jedi were losing their way.”

Fennec rolls her eyes. “You’re starting to sound like this Mandalorian I know.”

Ahsoka frowns. She is thrown years into the past at the sight of the huge metal gate, and again wonders about Stinky, and Anakin. She looks at Mayan. At least she doesn’t have to fight off Count Dooku’s guards with a stinky huttlet on her back. Mayan could be doing a lot worse. Satisfied that her padawan is having a much better time than she was, Ahsoka follows Fennec inside once the gate has rolled open.

There’s something almost comical about Boba Fett, Mandalorian bounty hunter, sitting on a two-person throne where the massive Jabba the Hutt once dwelled. At the entrance, two surviving Gamorrians glare with beady eyes, rusty axes in hand.

“The situation is as I explained before,” Boba Fett begins, as Fennec takes a swing of blue liquor from behind him. “We discovered that the Pykes were promised this territory, and this resolved our conflict with the Hutts. They have given up on Tatooine.”

“And you haven’t?” Ahsoka asks.

“No. This planet might be harsh, but the people who live here are good people. I’m fed up with these idiot syndicates sending their bounty hunters in to do jobs that could have been avoided. If the spice trade takes hold here this planet will be ruined.”

“I see.” Ahsoka eyes the metal grate beneath her. “So your intentions are… good.”

“I suppose they are.”

“Do you have allies?”

“Few.” Boba gestures to Mayan. “Perhaps this fight could be good experience for your new padawan.”

“It would.” Ahsoka folds her arms. “I also sympathise with your cause. Tatooine has been plagued by crime syndicates for many decades. Do you have a plan?”

“We’re working on it,” says Fennec. “Come and have some food, then we can talk more.”

Boba Fett wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have many allies. They can only hope that the crime families of Tatooine are smart enough to remain neutral and realise that the Pykes would eventually take over the whole planet and unseat them. There’s a wookie, a bunch of local kids, and the two Gamorrians.

“There’s a Mandalorian,” says Fennec. “I spoke to him earlier. He’s fixing up a ship right now, but he said he’d help.” She raises the blue jug towards Boba. “Said it was on the house.”

“I like that guy,” says Boba.

“Then, two Mandalorians, an assassin, and a Jedi and a padawan.” Ahsoka nods thoughtfully. “I’ve had worse odds.”

“Some of the crime families might be foolish enough to turn on us,” Boba warns. “And the Pykes are great in number. This will not be an easy fight.”

“Mayan,” Ahsoka begins. She crouches to the girl’s level, and meets her wide eyes. “I am going to give you this.” One of her lightsabers.

“Wha— No! Ahsoka, I can’t take yours. I don’t even know how to use it!”

“I will teach you.”

“But I—”

“You are strong with the force. You will pick it up quickly, and I need you to be able to protect yourself.” Ahsoka smiles. “Plus, I found that the best way to learn is by doing.”

—

“Pull the hood over your head like this. It will protect your skin from the sun. Your species isn’t used to these conditions.”

Mayan huffs, sweating already. “No. I miss the wind and the mountains.”

Ahsoka guides her through the bustling streets of Mos Eisley. They dodge fruit vendors and potentially nefarious individuals. The explosion causes an uproar.

“What was that?” Mayan grips Ahsoka’s arm.

“Stay calm,” Ahsoka says. “Let’s go find out.”

By the time they arrive at the casino, Boba Fett and Fennec Shand are already examining its blackened, smouldering remains. There are no survivors.

Though, their odds have increased again. Ahsoka dips her head in a polite greeting.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” says the Mandalorian, Din Djarin.

“Same goes for you.” Grogu isn’t with him. Ahsoka wonders if he’s safe, back on his ship, but the force does not lie. She felt it when Grogu tapped into the seeing stone. A powerful will, a presence that rang out through the entire galaxy, calling out to all Jedi. Ahsoka doesn’t need the force to tell her who answered it, she knows in her heart.

“He’s the son of an old friend,” she says, after a pause. “He will be safe with him.”

“I know.” I still miss him, though — whispers the Force.

“This is only the beginning. At this rate, there might be nothing left to protect from the Pykes.” Boba returns from examining the worst of the interior. Burnt flesh permeates the air.

“We’ve got Krrsantan, the Gamorrians and the kids keeping an eye out for the Pykes launching an offensive,” says Fennec. “No one should be able to sneak up on us in here.”

“I spoke to Cobb Vanth. He will lead a garrison of people from Freetown.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.”

Ahsoka crosses her arms. “You think so? How can you be so sure?”

“He… I just think… They are good people.”

Ahsoka hopes, for all of their sakes, that this Mandalorian turns out to be as good a judge of character as he makes out to be. She doesn’t know much about Din Djarin. From what she remembers, he’s practical, direct, and honourable. And very attached to Grogu. Based on the events at Corvus, his negotiating skills aren’t bad either. He seems reckless though.

“What should we do if they attack?” Mayan whispers.

Ahsoka turns to Boba. “Boba, you asked for our help. Where do you want us?”

“Keep the little one safe and out of the way,” says Boba. “I want you with us.”

Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “She’s staying with me.”

“Then I hope you are as skilled as they say.”

A smile catches her eyes. “We will see.”

Chapter Text

Luke finds that nothing has really changed on Tatooine as he sails above Mos Eisley. Dusty, sand-worn roofs merge together in the baking sunlight, multiplexing towards the Dune Sea. Grogu wriggles out of the passenger seat and settles on his lap, peering out the window with wide eyes, and Luke doesn’t have the heart to tell him off as he brings them into one of the space ports. 

Luke pops the top open, and is greeted by a cacophony of noise. Most of it is a woman yelling at her droids, backdropped by the droids clanking as they scramble to follow her instruction.

“Hey, you’re in luck, officer! I just got new greasers this afternoon, I can give that old rust-bucket a scrub! I got my paperwork somewhere, but as you can see, this place is a tip—” Grogu jumps out the ship, summersaulting, and lands right in the woman’s arms. She fumbles to catch him, crying out in surprise. “Well if it isn’t my favourite little womp-rat! Where ya been? Your Mandalorian just came through here. You just missed him!”

Grogu’s ears shoot up. “Mu?”

“Yeah he’s going to help some crime-boss friend of his!”

Luke hops down, utterly bemused. 

“You must be his Jedi folk! Well I never, a real-live Jedi! Do you have a laser sword?” She jostles Grogu in her arms. “Did you give him a laser sword?” 

Luke opens his mouth, then closes it again. “I didn’t realise you knew each other,” he manages.

“Yeah! I’m practically his aunt! Aunty Peli!” Peli snaps at the droids to get to work cleaning Luke’s X-Wing. “What’s a Jedi like you doing on Tatooine?”

Luke tries to ignore the pit droids crashing into each other. “I’m looking for someone. Hey, could Grogu wait with you? Grogu, is that alright?”

“Sure but I’ll have you know I charge for babysitting this little womp-rat. No exceptions for Jedi, okay?”

“That’s alright.” Luke nods towards R2-D2, who drops out of the ship to follow him, bleeping happily. “It’s probably safer if he waits here.” He hands her a small pouch of credits from the fold of his cloak, which, to his amusement, she counts immediately. 

If Grogu knows her, and the Mandalorian trusts her, Grogu will be safe here, right?

—

Mayan doesn’t know what it means to be a Jedi. She thinks having a lightsaber might be quite a big part of it, but also, not so much. Ahsoka’s is light, white, like its powerful blade, and it feels wrong-right in Mayan’s small, wry hands. 

When the blue man comes, Mayan hides inside the blown-up casino, trying not to look at the blackened bodies slumped against the wall, limbs splayed by the force of the blast. Although Mayan has seen worse. Feared worse. She is truly very afraid, but she cannot tell Ahsoka this. 

When the blaster fire starts, Mayan drops Ahsoka’s lightsaber. Her body springs, she realises she’s been winding it up this entire time to be ready to make a run for it, and she almost does, but then the lightsaber clatters down one of the steps, and Mayan unconsciously retrieves it instead. This makes sense to her. She sits, legs crossed, and strokes the feathers on her arm. Gently. 

“Do not pull your feathers when nervous, Mayan-Akash. The sky will knock you down and kill you.”

When the cursed mountain opened, Mayan understood her grandmother’s words: Give in to fear and she would die. 

But then, there was Ahsoka. 

And Mayan had not died. 

The few times she slept since she did not die, Mayan wondered if her body would get it wrong and she wouldn’t wake up again. It seemed so strange that she hadn’t died. Was she meant to die? If she is living on borrowed time, as she felt she must be, Mayan wants to be brave. What does she have to fear if she was the force, and her death was the force and there was no death, only the force? Mayan is ten. This makes sense to her, but she is still afraid. 

Because of her, Ahsoka is outside fighting with one less lightsaber. Mayan thinks she might as well have torn her master in half. (She’s wrong about this, because Ahsoka Tano is more than just two lightsabers.)

Ahsoka fends off the stray bullets, protecting Boba, Fennec, and their allies, while Mayan hides inside. She is ruthless — Mayan blinks rapidly — fearless. She shivers when she realises that those strange fish-faced aliens don’t stand a chance, and they don’t know it yet. 

“Stay close and observe. Get a feel for how I use my lightsaber, and how the force guides me,” said Ahsoka.

Mayan learns that there is a lot she doesn’t know about being a Jedi. 

—

“Skywalker! Hey, Luke!” 

Luke’s shoulders tense as if he’s just been caught sneaking out by Uncle Owen. He purses his lips and it takes all of his Jedi inner peace to stop him rolling his eyes. 

“Is it really you?”

This is why he hadn’t wanted to come to Tatooine. This exact situation.

Luke turns sheepishly. “Hi, Yallen.”

The round-faced boy Luke knew from the few years his uncle begrudgingly let him attend school for stands squinting at him against the bright mid-day sun. Yallen is a little more wrinkly. He’s got a beard that doesn’t do much for him. Are they really the same age? He must have aged two decades while Luke only aged one.

“What in the twin suns! We thought the tuskens got you.” Yallen’s hairy eyebrows furrow. “Where’d you go?” 

“Uh, off-world,” Luke summarises. 

“Some of us thought you joined the rebellion. I said, Luke? Little Luke Skywalker?” Yallen laughed. And Luke tried to convince himself that this was all in good humour. “He’s dead for sure! No way you would’a survived those tuskens, no way you could’a joined the rebellion. You never even could make it to the academy.” 

Luke opens his mouth, takes a breath. “Well, how are you, Yallen?”

“God awful,” says Yallen. “Pykes all over the place. They just started a kriffing shoot-out with some wanna-be daimyo and it’s a kriffing blood bath. Oh yeah, I’m outta here. You should go too, I mean, you almost died from tuskans and now you’re back, last thing you need is Pykes! Two times unlucky, I say.” 

Finally — Luke bids him farewell — something useful. The Pyke Syndicate must be the cause of the unrest he could sense while walking down the subdued streets. But what do the Pykes have to do with the person he was supposed to meet? His heart lurches before he can clamp it down. They're someone his father knew, what if something happens to them in the fray? He would never get the chance to meet them. Was his vision a warning that they were in danger, or did it have nothing to do with the Pykes at all? 

These are not good Jedi thoughts, so Luke buries them and lets his anxiousness slip away in a breath.

Whatever the case, he's a Jedi, and the people of Mos Eisley are in danger. There is only one thing he can do for now. 

—

When the storm breaks, Mayan’s instincts fire up like a hyperdrive. The casino is no longer safe, surrounded and overwhelmed by Pyke soldiers and towering mechanical droids that radiate bloodlust through their blaring red eyes which sends Mayan’s nerves into meltdown. 

She escapes the building in one piece. Blaster fire crosses from left and right, and Ahsoka does a good job of holding them off. Unfortunately, the two droids have overwhelmed them. An upturned carrier ship is their only defence, and Mayan decides as a blast nearly flips it over again that it’s not going to last. Next option: run.

Mayan is pretty good at fleeing in the face of danger. She wouldn’t be alive otherwise. Her species is used to being driven to the edge of cliffs by the blue tiger beasts that roam the mountains, so they evolved the ability to glide, because they jumped. Fear isn’t a death sentence. Fear can save your life. Mayan knows this intrinsically, because it is part of her biology, so when fear tells Mayan to run — like an ant being chased by a foot — she runs.

Fascinatingly, she’s running very fast. Not that she isn’t strong, but usually, back home, Mayan has to run against currents of wind. Now that there is no wind, there is no resistance, and her feathers are slick streamlined down her back. Mayan darts into an alleyway and clutches Ahsoka’s lightsaber to her chest, breathing carefully. She peeks out, and belatedly, the others are running now too, arms and legs flailing and thumping and kicking up dust as blaster fire whizzes over their heads. One of the droids turns, its terrifying red eye honing in on the most densely inhabited area, and fires three blasts that swiftly and efficiently reduce four people to blood and guts. 

Mayan jerks down and hugs her legs to her chest. She’s seen worse. She’s been through this before. Her family tried to murder her because of the noise. When she was young, her uncle disappeared and never came back. One of her friends plummeted off a cliff when he was too young to glide and too cocky not to try. The blue tiger beasts —

This is hardly a bloodbath. Mayan steadies herself and looks out again, in time to realise that she’s going to have to move again unless she wants to be the red-eyed silver tarantula droid’s next target. 

She’s lost sight of Ahsoka, but this doesn’t concern her since she saw her master fight. Ahsoka will be fine, but Mayan may not. 

She checks the other direction, and her fear spikes when she sees the Pyke fighters approach, picking off the individuals whom the droids can’t yet reach. They are trapped, in theory. Many manage to slip past the Pykes and to the safety of around the corner, but a pair duck into the alleyway in a whirlwind of dust and collide with her. 

Mayan rubs her elbow and checks the state of her feathers. None broken. She glares at the pair. They have to run, don’t they realise that they have to go? They can’t stay in this alleyway with the droids and the Pykes getting closer every second.

One of them is injured, no, dead, and a girl lowers their body to the ground, mouth twisted in what could be anger or grief but probably both. She turns to Mayan, tears tracking her cheeks, and Mayan blinks wordlessly. 

“Are you ok?” The blonde girl asks. 

“We have to go,” says Mayan 

“We can’t leave this guy!” 

Mayan takes in her reddening face. “Do you know him?” 

“No.” 

Mayan squints. Then, surely they can leave him. He’s just some guy.

“They killed our Marshal!” the girl yells. “I’m gunna fight them till they’re dead!” 

Mayan stands, reaching out her hand. “Come with me,” she says. “We have to run.” 

But it’s too late. 

Two Pyke soldiers block the alleyway, their dark shadows falling like a death sentence onto the ground at their feet. 

The girl yells, crazed, and launches herself at the Pykes with a small blaster. She fires three shots, one hits, a Pyke stumbles back and falls, probably caught by surprise. 

But the second fires his blaster in her face. 

Oh, mountain gods. She just stood there and watched a girl get her face blasted off. Should she have done something? She should probably have tried to hold her back. She should have swung the lightsaber like Ahsoka would have. She could have done anything but she just stood there because it happened too fast—

Mayan tells herself that she has seen worse. Has she seen worse? 

She ignites the saber and the Pyke startles, which is good, because it gives Mayan enough time to close the gap and slice him clean in half. 

His torso falls back with a thud, legs still standing, almost comically, waist sizzling red, then they crumple as well. Mayan just stares. She turns back to the girl. To a hollowed out, caved in skull with yellow and red stuff leaking out. She sees something white and wonders if it’s an eyeball. 

Mayan’s hands shake. It’s nothing she hasn’t… hasn’t seen before. 

You tell her she’s lying, and are faintly amused when she tries to push you away.

—

Ahsoka finds her crouching in the dirt, half in shadow. She doesn’t look over Mayan’s shoulder. She already knows what she will see. Mayan’s pale eyes flick up to her face, red-rimmed and wet. 

“Hey,” Ahsoka breathes. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Mayan stands, wobbly. “I ran without thinking. I should’ve stayed with you.” 

Ahsoka pulls her up, and draws her close. “It’s ok.”

Is it? What would her master say? What would Anakin do? Anakin never really hugged her. Is this wrong? 

“The droids,” Mayan starts. “Are they gone?”

“The Mandalorian led them away.” Ahsoka guides Mayan back out into the sun-baked, blood-soaked streets. “Well done, defeating the Pyke. You did—”

“He killed the girl I was with.” Mayan’s voice breaks. “I was too late.” 

Ahsoka closes her eyes. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.” She squeezes Mayan's hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

Mayan looks at her. She looks so fragile. “Is this what it’s like to be a Jedi?”

Yes, Ahsoka thinks. There is no easy way to be a Jedi. There will always be those she failed to save, the guilt, anger, eating away at her — tempting her. But Ahsoka Tano is strong, she is the light in the dark, and she will not be put out.

Even if she is no longer a Jedi in name, Ahsoka is a Jedi at heart — she is what the Jedi were always meant to be. Perhaps the name ‘Jedi’ had been tired out, worn down, and lost its meaning. Perhaps she is something else now.

“I— I’ll train hard. I promise. I can do it.” Mayan holds the lightsaber out in front of her.

“When you came to me, I was going to refuse. I sensed your fear.” Ahsoka places a hand on her shoulder. “But then I understood.”

“I can’t go back,” Mayan whispers. 

“Are there more of you?”

“There were.”

The cursed mountain on B’ahor was not originally a Sith temple. It was a wound in the force, a mass-graveyard, where generations of force sensitive people had been massacred. 

Mayan has no place to return to.

—

Luke is able to pick off a decent number of Pykes without blowing his cover. With every incapacitation, he reaches out with his senses to see if he can find the person he is supposed to be searching for. He hopes they don’t mind he got sidetracked. Luke draws a pair of Pykes about to fire on a group of terrified civilians into an alleyway and promptly decapitates them, then ducks out of sight. With the recent reappearance of the Empire, remnants holding out in ghost stations, Jedi can’t afford to be sighted.

Luke, after the defeat of the Emperor (in his youthful naivety) hadn’t realised that the battle would be an ongoing, shifting one. Now his task is to reestablish the Jedi order. If he can do that, perhaps these senseless conflicts can end. 

The sound of metal screaming and blaster fire startles him from his thoughts. Scorpion droids? Why the force would they use scorpion droids in an area filled with civilians—

Well, they are the Pyke Syndicate. 

Fleeing vehicles kick up a cloud of dust, and Luke jumps up onto the roof of the adjacent building, crouching close in preparation to drop down. Sweat licks the back of his neck. For a stupid moment he thinks how this is the complete wrong time of day to be out, when both suns are high in the sky. 

Then he leaps.

There isn’t even time to be annoyed as the roller-wheeler careers around the corner.  

“Peli, I told you to keep him inside!” 

“He wanted to see his dad!” Peli screams. 

Luke sends Grogu a withering look. The little guy sticks his tongue out from where he is held securely in the Mandalorian’s arms. 

“I am so sorry,” says the Mandalorian.

Luke doesn’t even know where to start. “It’s alright, can you hang on to him?” The roller-wheeler jolts suddenly, and Grogu squeals in what’s probably excitement.

“Yeah, but you can’t get through their shield with your lightsaber. I tried with mine.” 

“Ok.” Luke tugs the vehicle slightly to adjust its course. “We’re gonna have to talk about why you have a lightsaber later.” 

He senses annoyance from the helmet. 

“Did you kill a Jedi?” 

“Won it from Moff Gideon.” 

“You defeated Moff Gideon?”

“Watch it.” The Mandalorian blasts a Pyke who was aiming for Luke from the top of a building.

“Good shot.” 

The Mandalorian nods. Next thing they know, a Pyke has taken out the droid, and Luke somersaults off the roller-wheeler before it flips. He plants his feet in the ground and catches the vehicles’ momentum, controlling the crash so that everyone lands relatively unscathed. The Mandalorian caught Grogu immediately, so Luke draws them towards him, until his hand meets bescar.

“Nice catch,” says the Mandalorian, turning his head.

“Is Grogu ok?”

Grogu pops up over the Mandalorian’s shoulder. He’s a little shaken, but soon a smile breaks across his face when he sees Luke.

Peli spits out a tooth from where she’s lying. 

The scorpion droid is closing in, so Luke shifts his position to defend the three against a powerful blast from its blood-red eye. He’s thrown back with a punch, but the Mandalorian keeps him standing with a hand between his shoulder blades. 

“Well, now I know why all the Jedi got wiped out.” 

Before Luke can respond to that, the Mandalorian shoves him into a small alcove of a building. “I deflected it fine!” he says. He’s actually kind of proud of himself for that one.

“That was a blast from a class B droid. Bescar wouldn’t hold up.” 

Grogu says, “Patu.”

“I know, Grogu,” Luke frowns. “Bad idea. Don’t do that.”

There’s a tremendous roar that shakes the building they’re hiding in. Dust rains down, and a rancor slams into the street, swiping the scorpion droid aside like an insect. Of course, there’s a Mandalorian riding it. But this Mandalorian is strangely familiar. 

Luke gasps. “Is that Boba Fett?”

“Yes,” says the Mandaloian. 

“I threw him in a sarlec pit!” 

The Mandalorian turns slowly. “You might want to… not mention that to him.” 

Luke blinks. “I won’t if you don’t.” 

“Deal.”

They shake on it.

“I’m sure he won’t… hold it against you.” 

“We’re talking about the same Boba Fett, right?”

“I’ll mitigate.” 

A blast shakes the building again, and Luke shields his face from the rain of dust. The rancor howls. It suffered a barrage of blows, and retreats, wounded, until its rage overwhelms its pain and it throws the droid into a building again. It rips a leg clean off, and robotics crackle as the shield vanishes. 

“I’m going in,” says the Mandalorian, and a dark blade hums at his side. 

Luke raises a brow. “Can you wield that?”  

“To an extent.”

“Follow my lead,” he says. “I’ll show you how to take down a massive killer droid with a lightsaber.” 

The Mandalorian hands Grogu to Peli. “Please… for the love of—” 

“The force.” 

“—keep him here and don’t let him get involved.”

Peli holds Grogu like she doesn’t know what to do with him.

The Scorpion droid lands heavily, gears crunching, as the rancor retreats in agony despite Boba Fett’s attempts to redirect it. 

Luke instructs the Mandalorian briefly. “Keep your stance low. While you’re attacking with a lightsaber, you’re vulnerable. Aim for—” 

“The eye?”

“Legs first. I’ll take the eye and keep its blasts directed at me.”

“You’ll get killed if you—”

“Not deflecting, dodging.”

The Mandalorian takes out a leg. It comes off cleanly, and the scorpion droid stumbles again, eye darting between its two assailants, unsure which one to attack. 

Dank ferrik, it choses the Mandalorian. He can’t reach him to deflect it in time, and if the bescar won’t hold up…

Luke takes a deep breath. He’s done this before with ordinary blasters. His father could do it like it was nothing, and size matters not.

“You want the impossible.”

His glove scrunches. 

“And that, is why you fail.” 

The Mandalorian raises his arms to protect himself. The blast hovers, like a still, suspended in mid-air, red screaming to be released. He meets Luke’s gaze, and Luke screams at him to move. 

When he does, the blast blows up his shadow. 

Now Luke’s arm is heavy. This is a terrible time to be suffering from force exhaustion. 

The scorpion droid rears again, confused, trying to find a target through the dust. A black blade forms a lightning-white arc and slices through the upper structure of its fourth leg. Unbalanced, the droid careers sideways, and slams down. It’s eye cracks and the light goes out. 

Luke coughs from the dust, and uses the force to push the particles away. Out of the cloud, the Mandalorian holds his lightsaber with both hands. It drags on the ground slightly as if weighted. He turns to Luke then retracts the blade. 

“Nice cut,” says Luke.

“How did you… the blast?”

“I stopped it with the force. You’re lucky I managed, I’m really sorry for—”

“Don’t apologise.” The Mandalorian approaches as the wreckage sizzles beside him. “I agreed to fight by your side.”

Luke sighs, slumping. “That just makes me feel worse.” 

“No, it’s not…” the Mandalorian tries, “not a bad thing. By the creed I would be bound to protect you to the best of my abilities as well.”

Luke smiles. “I guess I’m rusty. It’s been a while.”

“That was rusty?” 

Luke cringes. “Oh boy, now I sound like I’m really full of myself, huh?”

“No…” 

The Mandalorian doesn’t say more. Luke shrugs, and finds Grogu (thank the force) still with Peli. He thinks they might be in the clear, but then of course, the rancor has other ideas.  

“Aw no,” Luke groans. He snatches Grogu back from Peli. “Get clear, alright?” he says to her. “We’ll deal with this.”

A group begins firing at the rancor, and the Mandalorian yells at them to stop. “You’re scaring him! Watch Grogu.”

“Do you even—” 

He’s in the air before Luke has the chance to finish. 

“—know how to ride a rancor…” 

Luke jostles Grogu in his arms. “Grogu, your Mandalorian’s a little crazy, but I like ‘im.”

“Patu!” Grogu grins up at him with his big dark eyes. 

The Mandalorian reaches the rancor at the top of a huge turret. Its claws rip chunks out of the building, destabilising it and sending rocks raining down. 

“Oh boy, he’s really not…” Luke winces as the rancor roars, tossing the Mandalorian off his back. He falls for a few heart-stopping metres, then jetpacks up again, only for the rancor to catch him in his clawed fist like a shiny bescar beetle. Luke cringes and covers Grogu’s eyes as it tries to bite off his head, but as the Mandalorian would probably say: the bescar holds up. The Mandalorian shoots flames into its mouth.

“I’m gonna have to go up there.” Luke shakes his head. “Grogu—” Suddenly, realising the Mandalorian isn’t edible, or that it doesn’t like the taste of fire, the rancor throws him full-force into a building. 

Luke runs towards the rubble, holding Grogu tightly. “Mandalorian?” he shouts. Coughing signifies the emergence of the Mandalorian from the decimated building. Luke shifts some rubble to help him get out before the rancor realises where he fell. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” he wheezes, falling.

Luke helps him to his knees. “I think they only allow their masters to ride them, but y’know, you had pretty good technique.”

The Mandalorian coughs some more.

“Sorry… it was real bad actually, I’m just trying to make you feel better.” 

“Thank you.”

Grogu jumps into the Mandalorian’s arms and knocks him over again.

“Grogu!” Luke scolds. But the rancor has figured out where they are, and seems to have lost its bearings for the building completely, and half falls, half scales down the building, crashing more rubble to the ground.

It roars, swaying on the sand, beady eyes like pinpricks gleaming down on them. 

“Aw, I don’t wanna kill it.” Luke swallows the dryness in his throat. Grogu seems to have an idea, and starts babbling at Luke. The Mandalorian has passed out. “You wanna try something? Alright, but don’t tell the Mandalorian or we’re both gonna get it.” 

Before Luke can pick him up, Grogu somersaults meters in the air and lands in the open space in front of the rancor. 

Luke wants to yell at him to be careful, but he doesn’t dare move. Grogu toddles over to the massive beast, seemingly unconcerned despite the fact that he’s smaller than its claws. Luke thinks Grogu would have a pretty good chance at dodging should the rancor take a swing at him, given his size and agility, but he still holds his breath.

Grogu reaches his hand out.

Oh, oh! 

Of course! 

Luke is an idiot. Force empathy. Why didn’t he think of that? Isn’t he supposed to be the Jedi master? But then again, Luke’s not even sure he could connect with a rancor like that. There really is something special about Grogu. 

The rancor seems uncertain at first, and Luke worries that it’s not going to work, but gradually, the beast settles, and even lowers itself to the ground. Then the rancor falls asleep.

Grogu turns his head back, smiling. “Eh?” 

Luke, speechless, can only nod, a smile just as bright tugging at the corners of his lips. Aw! His padawan is so great! He should probably go get Grogu back before the Mandalorian wakes up…

Too late. The Mandalorian stares straight ahead, and gasps when Grogu decides that right beside the rancor’s tooth-pinned head is the perfect place for nap time. Well, all’s well that ends well, Luke supposes. 

“Y’know, I once fought Jabba’s rancor.” Luke folds his arms, glancing down. The Mandalorian meets his gaze. “I had to crush him, unfortunately, under this huge metal gate. It was a real piece of work! Bet it’d eaten tons of people.” 

“This,” the Mandalorian swallows, gesturing, “this one seems… nice.” 

Luke frowns at him. “Do you wanna get up? Here, let me.” He takes him by the arm. “Ok, are you heavy or is it the beskar?”

“Not heavy.”

“Oh force, it’s me, sorry…” Luke’s arm aches, but he manages to get the Mandalorian back on his feet. “Yeah, I’m never stopping a bullet again. Sorry I just called your beskar heavy, I know you guys love beskar, would that be insulting?” 

The Mandalorian tilts his head. 

Chapter Text

Boba Fett kills Cad Bane. 

It’s really a celebration-worthy event. Ahsoka almost claps him on the back when he comes back, limping slightly through the sand, but clone-typically stubborn that he’s fine. 

They gather the wounded and their allies to return to Boba’s palace.

“That weapon. Is it tusken?”

Boba holds the spear made of dark wood, clubbed at one end, spear on the other. “The tuskans gifted it to me when they took me in.” 

“That’s…” Ahsoka pauses, bandages unraveling between her fingers. That’s different. 

If Mayan was affected by the fight she doesn’t show it. Ahsoka has seen such behaviour before, it’s a bad habit, one her master had, where he buried his true feelings until the bottle was full and they’d burst out in a fearsome temper. She thinks dealing with feelings is where the Jedi Order went wrong — it went wrong in many ways, but this way in particular. If someone had just… talked to Anakin, maybe… 

She needs to stop thinking about this. It had settled under a thin layer of dust in her mind until she found Mayan, and now suddenly Anakin seems to be at the forefront of her mind again, like he was when she first made the harrowing realisation of what he had become, all those years ago. 

It doesn’t get any easier, thinking about him. At least now she tries to focus on the good times, rather than the regrets and the what ifs. Still…

“Mayan, did you get hurt?”

Mayan’s eyes go wide, then she shakes her head. She tires to hand Ahsoka back her lightsaber but Ahsoka refuses. 

“Hold onto it for me.” She smiles. 

Mayan brightens up a little. 

Back at the palace, the Mandalorian approaches her. Ahsoka leans back against the dusty, rock walls while the others feast, and she notices his silver sheen out of the corner of her eye. She’s never been one for celebrating victories, but it’s nice when others do.

“Hey, what’s—” Then she senses Grogu. Tucked up in the Mandalorian’s cloak, which he has shedded for a makeshift-blanket, fast asleep. “You… you got him back.” Ahsoka sends him a puzzled look, which lands on a blank visor. 

“He wants to speak with you.” 

“Who?” 

She knows who.

“Skywalker.” 

Ahsoka’s heart hammers. “I…” I don’t know what to say. She’d probably have sought him out if this whole thing hadn’t gotten her attention first, but that would have been at her own pace, and maybe she could have thought about what she wanted to say, been more ready. Suddenly she’s been plunged into cold water. 

“He really wants to speak to you.” 

Ahsoka shoots him a look. “Did he tell you to say that?”

“He said you might be hesitant.” 

Ahsoka sighs, but she pushes herself off the wall. “I’ll go.” She reaches a little towards Grogu, pulling the cloak to reveal his little face. “I told you your bond was too strong,” she says. She looks up at the Mandalorian. “He won’t do this without you by his side.” 

The Mandalorian visibly tenses. “Am I…” his voice falters, “bad for him? I don’t want to be a hinderance… he’s learnt so much with Skywalker.” 

Ahsoka shakes her head. “You share a special bond. You should cherish it.”

As he glances down at the sleeping child, Ahsoka swears there’s an expression on his helmet that softens.  

—

Luke’s hand sifts through the sand at the edge of the graves. He doesn’t really remember burying his aunt and uncle. He thinks Obi-Wan spared him from most of the digging, though they really should have been in more of a hurry… It’s not that hard to dig into sand, though. There aren’t rocks, or roots, so it shifts easily, if it doesn’t spill off the shovel because it’s bone-dry in the Dune Sea. 

He always knew that his grandmother was buried here. Right next to his uncle, now. He didn’t speak of her often. He knew her name was Shimi Skywalker, but when he asked about a grandfather, he just got this look. He wondered if he had been a criminal. A really terrible man. Later, he wondered if he had been a powerful Jedi master. But he can never picture his face. Uncle Owen said his grandmother had funny ideas. “What sort of ideas?” “Weird… wizardry, okay? Crazy talk. She had a difficult life.” 

He had tried not to say anything about the tuskens, either. Maybe he thought Luke would go on another revenge massacre. Anyway, Luke overheard him and Aunt Beru talking about it when he was younger, and he was too terrified to even think of going near a tusken. It actually gave him nightmares for months. Somehow he became a Jedi. But really, Yallen did have a point. Luke was… nobody. Just a farm boy, little-Luke, stuck on Tatooine for another season, then another, while his dreams of adventure grew further and further out of reach. 

It was nice to have Grogu while it lasted. Luke knows there’s no way the little guy is gonna come back with him to the temple now. Ah well, better that he goes with the Mandalorian than he regrets the time he didn’t spend with the person he cares about most, while their lifespans cross for this brief time. 

It really will be brief, for Grogu. Luke hopes he finds people who care for him just as much once they’re gone. 

He doesn’t sense her presence until she’s right there. Like a dry leaf tumbling silently through the sky, crinkling only when it touches the ground. Luke turns, picturing an aura of gold. 

The Jedi looks at him like she knows him. Her eyes widen as they take in his face, and Luke feels stupidly self-conscious, but then the edges of her eyes soften, and the corner of her mouth lifts.  

“Luke?”

Luke’s mouth is dry. “Hi.”

“You look a lot like him. I don’t think his hair was as blond, though.” It’s a casual comment, and Luke almost brushes it off with a smile, but there’s a weight to her words, and it settles on his chest like a ton of water.

“I’ve seen… on an old Jedi holocron,” Luke says, “he was going over lightsaber drills. I watched it over and over.” 

She nods. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” 

“You were his padawan.” 

Ahsoka lets out a breath. 

“You just seem familiar. You must have been close, right?” 

“Anakin was a great master, and a great friend.”

Luke pauses. “Thank you for meeting me.” 

“Of course.” 

They stand facing each other for a few moments, as the breeze kicks up trails of sand and the Dune Sea shifts with a whisper. The suns catch Ahsoka’s eyes, and they glow the brightest sky blue. Her skin is the same colour as the second sun, and her lekku hangs by her sides, bushing her hips. 

“I would like to get to know you… if that’s something you want? But I understand if you don’t want to re-open old wounds. There’s so much I don’t know about my parents, but I haven’t, I wasn’t there when it happened, I don’t want to ask you to—”

“I wasn’t either,” Ahsoka says. “Not that, that makes it any easier. But you have more right than anyone to know them. I only hope I can do them justice for the great people they were.” 

Luke lowers his gaze to the sand. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “There’s something else I wanted to ask.”

“Okay.” 

“Why didn’t you…” He meets her eyes, and clears his throat. “After Order Sixty-six, and the Jedi Order fell, you survived. I know Leia and I were hidden, but weren’t there others who were force sensitive?”

“You want to know why I didn’t try to re-establish the Jedi Order.” 

Luke says nothing. Ahsoka takes it as affirmative. 

“I was banished from the order.” 

His eyes widen.

“Before you jump to conclusions,” Ahsoka laughs, “I was wrongly accused of terrorism and murder. Master Yoda and the council banished me when it seemed I would be proven guilty, and if it wasn’t for Ana— your father, I would have been.” Ahsoka continues, “It turned out a friend of mine, a fellow padawan, had lost faith in the Jedi order and turned to the dark side. She set off the bomb and committed the murder. The council apologised and invited me back, but I said no.”  

“You left?” 

Ahsoka crosses her arms. “I left.”

“Why?”

She smiles again, this time, sadly. “Do I really have to explain it?”

“You left because they didn’t have faith in you,” Luke says. “But… my father still did.”

“That’s why it was so difficult — and it still is. I know it wouldn’t have changed anything, but I had a lot of time to think about how things might have gone differently.” 

Luke shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault. Obi-Wan and Yoda told me it was all Palpatine.” 

“Hm,” Ahsoka tilts her head. “Back to the reason I didn’t re-establish the Jedi order; there are reasons people become vulnerable to the dark side. My friend turned right under the council’s noses. Honestly, I thought about doing it, I even met a couple of Jedi, but then I found out about Anakin.” She stares right at him. “I couldn’t.”

“Why do you think they were vulnerable?” 

“I believe the Jedi lost their way. Instead of dealing with how we felt in a healthy way, we were encouraged to push our fear and anger away, and many of us, Anakin included, bottled it up. He was… scared of something, and nobody helped him, or reassured him, because it was about your mother and he’d broken the Jedi principles to be with her.”

“Palpatine…”

“He said he could save her. Force, Luke… I’m sorry. Anakin…” Ahsoka’s voice breaks. 

Luke reaches for her shoulder. “Obi-Wan told me.”

“Then you know.” Ahsoka squeezes his arm. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want there to be more Jedi, I did, and still do, but I don’t want a new Order.” 

Luke steps back, searching her face. “I understand.” 

They talk more, about all sorts of things, and nearly everything, until evening when they return to Boba’s Palace and Luke thinks he can sneak in to say goodbye to Grogu if he lays low. It doesn’t go as planned.

“I’m not trying to do anything! Can’t you just let me see Grogu?” Luke says, exasperated, as Boba Fett circles him with a rifle poised in the fold of his arms. 

“Boba, he’s not a threat…” Ahsoka tries. 

Fennec Shand sips blue liquor.

“I thought we had a deal, but now that you’ve brought him here, I’m not so sure…”

“What happened to the celebratory mood? Can’t we all go back to the party?” Fennec yawns. 

“This is an important encounter,” Boba rebukes. “Alright, Jedi, what makes you think you can show your face in front of me?”

Luke takes a breath. “Do you want a list?”

“Go for it.”

“Well, I think we’re equal. I helped you fight off the scorpion droids today and secure Mos Eisley. Also… weren’t you working for Vader when I… y’know?”

“Hm.” Boba changes direction, still circling him.

“You were working for the Empire. I was trying to rescue my friends, it was fair play. Bounty hunters are responsible for taking the job that kills them.” 

“Hm…” 

“He’s just toying with you,” says Fennec. “He’s not actually mad, he just doesn’t wanna lose face after the way he was coddling his rancor earlier.”

Luke opens his mouth, amused, then closes it again. This is an entirely new side of the notorious bounty-hunter now-crime-lord Boba Fett that he honestly did not need to know about.

Boba Fett inclines his helmet. He seems to squint at Luke for a moment, and Luke feels a prickle over his skin as Boba touches the rifle. Luke’s confident he could take him if it came down to it. It might be a nasty fight, though, and honestly, he kind of likes these guys for opposing the Pike Syndicate. Hopefully the position of daimyo doesn’t go to his head, otherwise, Luke would fight for his cause again.

Despite having the force sensitivity of a rock, these thoughts seem to transfer over to Boba, who hums noncommittally, seemingly satisfied. He stomps back over to the throne, sits, and throws a leg over the arm. 

Luke blinks. Right. Boba Fett.

“We’re even,” Boba decides. He makes a hand gesture for the blue liquor, which Fennec tosses to him with a roll of her eyes. Boba places his helmet beside him on the seat and takes a swing, acid-scarred face regarding him cooly. 

Luke bows respectfully. “Thanks a bunch.” 

Boba waves an arm dismissively. “Go see your… shared-custody green child.”

He turns to leave, but Boba isn’t done. He comments, offhandedly, “I thought you would’ve gotten a few more scars since the last time I saw you.”

Luke turns, puzzled. “Why?”

“Haven’t you been Jedi-ing?”

“Jedi-ing.” 

“Saving the galaxy.” 

Luke almost laughs. “I already did that.” 

“What about the people of Tatooine?” 

Luke’s smile falters.

“Tch. ∂ι’кυтℓα נєтιιѕє.”  

“What does that mean?” 

Boba’s face twists. “It means I don’t like you.” 

“He called the Jedi useless and worthless,” says Ahsoka. Luke meets her eyes, trying to stifle the burn in his skin. Ahsoka clears her throat. “We’ve been gone a long time.” 

“That’s why I want to rebuild what was lost.” 

Ahsoka looks at him for a long moment. “I know.”

Luke turns and leaves.

Who does Boba Fett think he is? Should he really be acting all high-and-mighty now he’s helped one town and seized the poison of daimyo? It’s hardly… Luke relaxes his fist. It’s hardly saving the galaxy, and yet… 

“What about the people of Tatooine?” 

Luke takes a deep breath.

“∂ι’кυтℓα נєтιιѕє .”

Why is it so…

“Are you alright?” 

He’s bumped into something metal. “Huh? Oh, sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

The Mandalorian pushes him back gently. “Yeah, it’d be weird if you were.” Luke says nothing. He doesn’t see Grogu; he’s about to ask where he is when the Mandalorian speaks. “Did Boba find out you chucked him in the sarlec pit?” 

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you… need me to talk to him?”

“Huh? No, it’s fine. He seems over it. I mean, it was fair play, y’know?” He tries to laugh.

The Mandalorian slants his helmet and Luke swears the visor narrows. Why does he feel like he’s being interrogated? 

“Do you wanna race?” 

“What?” 

—

First off, Luke didn’t realise he was up against an N-1 starfighter. He also was not told about the modifications. 

Luke swerves around a rock structure, X-Wing spinning so fast it howls. 

Yeah, like he’s gonna lose. 

“How did you make that turn at that speed?” 

Luke grins. The radio blinks faintly red. “Reflexes.”

“I’m still faster.” 

“Wanna bet?”

The Mandalorian’s ship edges into the corner of his vision. The sand is bathed in orange from his rebel New Republic helmet, it’s still light, but the suns are sinking leisurely on the sidelines, and Luke tries to bite back his laugh at the fact that the Mandalorian obviously stripped the paint off the N-1 to match his beskar. 

“Are all Mandalorians as aesthetically aware as you are?”

“Have you met Boba Fett?”  

Luke leans into a turn, X-Wing swaying slightly from the drag. They race across the Dune Sea towards another maze of canyons, just a blot in the distance. 

“I wasn’t really paying attention to his fashion sense the first time we met.”

“So… how did you end up chucking Boba in a sarlec pit?”

“Oh it’s a long story.”

“Summarise it?” 

“My friend had a bounty on his head.” 

“I could’ve guessed that much.”

Luke huffs in amusement. “Yeah, well we weren’t being hunted, it was a rescue mission. My friend was frozen in carbonite in Jabba’s Palace, so my sister and I went in to rescue him.”

“Is that when you killed the rancor?” 

“Yeah. Jaba used that dumb trapdoor on me! Anyway, I dealt with it, then they decided to throw us all in the sarlec pit. They put my sister in this awful bikini — never mention that in front of her she hates it — and they were gonna throw me and my friend in.”

“Are you still friends?” 

“Huh? Well… yeah.” Luke makes a face. What? “My droid, that R2 unit? R2 had my lightsaber so he threw it over while we were over the pit. Amidst the fray, I think Boba’s jetpack got punctured. I actually don’t remember exactly how it happened, but he fell in and that was that. Oh, and my sister strangled Jaba to death.” 

“What?”

“Yeah, she used the chains she was in.”

The radio is silent for a few blinks. Luke doesn’t have to hide his smile since there’s nobody looking at him, so he shakes his head with a chuckle. Leia was so great for that. He’d tell this story all the time if it didn’t send her into a rage because of the bikini. 

Suddenly the air around him explodes with a roar, and the Mandalorian’s starfighter vanishes from Luke’s peripheral vision. Luke thinks for an instant that he’s gone up, but then he catches sight of a wobbly trail of heat and dust, and he completely fails to accelerate for a half-second while he stares in complete bafflement because, what? Is he crazy? Who in the galaxy installed that engine?

“Sorry, I don’t have Jedi reflexes so I thought I’d give myself a head start.” 

Luke’s windshield starts to rattle from the air resistance. He’s not gaining, he’s hardly even keeping up. “I’ll wait and beat you when we get to the canyon…”

—

“What are you going to do after this?” 

Ahsoka takes her hand away from the gun barrel, grease cloth coated in grime. 

In all fairness, Luke’s been busy with Grogu. And he hasn’t been in an actual fight in his X-Wing in a long time. 

He doesn’t miss the disappointment in Ahsoka's eyes when she looks between him and the cloth. She dumps it in a bucket of washing dust (there isn’t enough water on Tatooine to waste it on cleaning, so a powder is made from desert grass and used instead — it absorbs grease and oil relatively well) and makes a contemplative hum. “I think… going places. There’s something I’m sort of investigating. I also need to find a kyber crystal for my padawan.” She looks at him. “What about you?”

“I want to make a place where Jedi can go and where we can train our younglings in safety.” Luke takes his lip between his teeth. “If you need me, you have my holo-number.” 

 Ahsoka dips her head. “Same for you.” She smiles. “Good luck with the temple. I like the idea. I’ll visit with Mayan sometime, and we can work on her lightsaber skills.” 

Luke’s chest warms. “I’d like that. Hey, maybe you can help me out as well. I never got properly trained.” 

Ahsoka scoffs. “Ha! As if you need me to give you pointers, Mr Chosen One. You figured it all out mostly by yourself, that’s really impressive.”

“But will you spar with me sometime?”

“Maybe.” 

“Promise?” 

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “Sure.”

Luke grins, grabbing his helmet. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

R2 beeps happily from underneath the X-Wing. He whirs between looking at Luke and looking at Ahsoka, and Luke knew that R2 knew more than he let on about his family, but seeing him here with Ahsoka, he realises that, force, he really was his father’s astro-mech. He wonders how many adventures the three of them got into. Was Obi-Wan involved? He was probably involved in a few.

“You should take R2,” Luke says. The words are out before he’s really even thought about it.

“What?” Ahsoka’s face tightens. “I can’t take him from you. He’s yours.” 

“I think he wants to go with you.” R2 spins around with a flurry of bleeps and almost runs over Ahsoka’s feet. “Plus,” Luke says, “we’ll see each other again soon. I can take him back then.” This way… he’ll see her again soon. Luke isn’t ready to go back to his planet when Ahsoka is right here, right in front of him, looking at him like she wants him to go on some crazy adventure with her. If she takes R2 she has to come visit him soon, and tell him all about it.

“Okay…” Ahsoka crouches to R2’s level, resting a hand on his top. “What do you say, R2-y?”

“WAAAHHHHHHHOWWWWW!”

“That sounds like a yes.” Luke stifles a laugh. 

“Haha, it does.” Ahsoka stands and brushes off her trousers. She unfolds her sleeves which she rolled up to clean his ship and beckons Luke to follow her out of the landing zone, out of the gate. 

They step out into the sand and Ahsoka looks towards the setting suns. “Well… I’ll be leaving now. Make sure you say goodbye to Grogu properly.” 

Luke almost sighs. Grogu is still fast asleep, and he doesn’t have it in him to wake him up. He’s happy to hang around until he does, though.

“Did you hear about the Mandalorian’s little predicament?” 

“Mm, the helmet thing.” 

“So… he’s going to Mandalore.”

Luke glances to the side. “I know.” 

“You can probably sense Grogu’s force signature pretty easily though.”

“I’m not going to follow them. I’d only put them in danger, and Grogu chose the Mandalorian, not me.” 

Ahsoka shrugs slightly. “The remnants of the Empire won’t stand for a retaking of Mandalore. I hope he knows what he’s doing.” 

“What do you mean?"

“The weapon he has?” Ahsoka shoots him a quizzical look. “The darksaber.” 

Luke feels like he’s just been punched in the gut. Oh. Oh force. He’s such an idiot — a clueless, useless idiot Jedi. That black lightsaber was the kriffing darksaber. No wonder it felt so ominous, and the Mandalorian couldn’t wield it properly. 

“Wait, do you not know about it?”

“I do.” Luke’s face breaks into a frown. “I just didn’t realise that’s what it was.” 

“Huh,” Ahsoka says. She gazes at him for a little while longer, and he feels her consciousness prodding the edges of his mind, like a force-hug. Then she smiles and steps back. Ahsoka walks away waving. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Take care of R2.” 

“I’ll tell him to behave.” 

Luke almost laughs again, but he’s still reeling from what he just heard. Soon, Ahsoka is gone, and before he even realises any time has passed, a ship takes off from the edge of the Dune Sea and rises into the dusk.

He looks at the twin suns, and the twin suns look right back at him.

Chapter Text

He murmurs to himself, pacing the room, repeating the lengths because it always helped him to focus. The Moffs have put him in command of the remains of the Empire, but Thrawn knows that there's more to it than that. The mysterious holo-figure who promised the impossible... It makes no sense that the Moffs would trust him. What he speaks of is impossible, preposterous, it's...

Thrawn paces, from the monitors, where lines of light connect facts to uncertainty and variables to possibility, to the window — the vast expanse of open space. He catches sight of a billion stars every time he turns. He tries not to look. He tries.

“ꪜꫀꫝꫀꪹ’ꪜꪖꫝ?”

These phrases are his mantra. He speaks the words softly and quietly and with varying degrees of venom. This is not his priority. This is not the mission.

He knows that there isn't much time to figure out a plan — that every minute he spends searching is a minute he doesn't spend on his mission.

But this wasn't supposed to happen.

Did he... miscalculate? Ba'kif always said it would happen one day.

And Ar'alani.

“Someday, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, you’ll overthink and over-plan, and it will come crashing down all around you. When that happens, I hope someone is there to lift you back to your feet.”

“You, perhaps?”

Ar’alani shakes her head. Her expression holds regret, perhaps even pain. “I very much fear I will never see you again. The growing chaos in the Ascendancy warns of coming war. If you don’t return quickly, there may be nothing left for you to return to.”

But the Jedi had never ceased to surprise him.

—

The helmet hisses as the airlock disengages. Koska shakes out her pleated hair, face grim, and places the battle-worn helmet on the table. “It’s as you said,” she mutters. “They call themselves Clan куяαу¢. Disgusting traitors.”

“Clan Dead?” Bo-Katan traces the rim of the metal tumbler with her finger. “Well… at least they’re self-aware…” 

“This isn’t good.” Koska slams her fist down, making the water splash. She glowers at Bo-Katan, who tilts her head a little to the side to meet her gaze. 

“It’s unsalvageable,” Bo-Katan says.

“Are you serious? Are you being serious right now?” 

Bo-Katan says nothing. 

“σяιтѕιя!”  Koska yells. “Bo-Katan Kryze!” 

Bo-Katan’s eyes widen, she drops her gaze and breathes softly. “Stop yelling.”

“You… you…” Koska clenches her fists. “иιвяαℓ! αяυєт!” She kicks the metal desk, exclaiming incoherencies. 

Bo-Katan shakes her head. “What do you want me to do?” She sits back, hands out. “I don’t have any way to unite our people, and Mandalore is inhabited by a clan of psychos.”

Koska’s lip trembles, but she bites it down. “We were going to follow you. We were going to get our home back,” her voice cracks. “Don’t tell me it’s all over now. After everything we’ve been through to get here.” 

“Mandalore, and my legacy, is dead,” Bo-Katan seethes. “Even with the darksaber, would we be able to subdue, or, live alongside that… Clan куяαу¢, knowing what they did to Mandalore?”

“Just get the darksaber from him!” Koska says. “If you get it our clan will stop kriffing falling apart and we can take them down.” 

Bo-Katan slumps into her hand. “This is why we fell apart in the first place. We fought each other instead of the Empire. It’s not a path I am willing to go down.”

“The others are,” Koska states.

Bo-Katan looks up.

“And they will,” Koska continues, eyes hard. “That’s why you need to decide what to do now before they decide for you, and we end up going down a path of self-destruction. While they’ll still listen to you, choose.” 

Bo-Katan presses her hands together. 

“And before you ask, this does not mean I want to get back with you.” 

“I never even said that!” 

—

“Lady Tano? Lady Tano… holo to Lady Tano…” 

Ahsoka wakes with a start. Her eyes blink in the familiar darkness, shimmering with white like star dust. And then the yellow eyes. “Maul!” 

“Hello again!” He waves.

Ahsoka glares. “What’s got you in a good mood? Can’t be anything good.” 

She swears his eyes gleam. It’s been a couple of days since she last heard from Maul. Sometimes they cross into each other's… force visions (she’s just going to call it force-visions because calling it her crossing over into the living-force is horrifying) and it’s very random. Maul will be sitting there, cross-legged, meditating, and Ahsoka will watch him for a while, until he realises she’s there and he hisses like a loth cat and comes at her with his lightsaber. 

Ahsoka is pleased to say that she can hold her own against him, even though his power has been significantly reduced by his lack of motivation (hatred — Ahsoka knows it’s hatred, but she doesn’t have it in her to explain to Maul that the emptiness he feels is the void where his hatred used to be). 

One time she didn’t have her lightsaber with her, and Maul swung to strike her down in his usual greeting. She didn’t move. What was she gonna do, dodge? To be fair, she could have dodged. Anyway, maybe she wanted to know what would happen, what it would feel like to die in a place where you were already dead, but he stopped at the last instant, blade warming the skin on her cheek, and stared at her like she was crazy for a good minute. 

“It’s Ezra!” 

Ahsoka’s blood freezes. “What?”

“Ezra, Ezra Bridger, my former Sith apprentice?”

She rises to her feet. “Ezra wasn’t—”

Maul chuckles. “He was. Oh, he was. Or at least, he came close, during the time we spent together.”

Ahsoka grits her teeth.

“Anyway… um. Should I go on?” Maul inclines his head. 

“Yes,” she snaps. Force, he’s insufferable.

“My former Sith apprentice, Ezra, Ezra Bridger, is actually alive!”

Ahsoka stares at him. “Maul, I know he’s alive.”

“But he was dead, was he not? I couldn’t sense his force signature.” 

Ahsoka’s heart is racing now. “Until just now? You couldn’t sense him until just now?” 

“That’s what I said.” 

She’s pacing. “He’s back. He made it back.” Then she pauses. “How long has he been back?” 

Maul frowns. “Well… time doesn’t seem to hold much meaning in this place. He might have been alive for some time. With the temple on B’ahor, I sensed the presence of a powerful Sith weapon which had been there for a millennium.” He shrugs, leaning back on his hands. "I wouldn’t rely on me for an estimate of time. But never mind that… how was Ezra dead?” 

“He wasn’t dead,” Ahsoka says. “He was flung into the unknown regions with Thrawn.” 

Maul makes a strange noise. It takes Ahsoka a moment to realise that it’s him muffling a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” 

“Brilliant! Brilliant, oh how fantastic. He really did that? And Thrawn! I had the displeasure of meeting him at least twice in my life.”

Right, Maul is dead. Anyway.

“This means he has returned?” Maul continues. “Will you seek him out?”

“If I can figure out where he is…” Ahsoka rubs her forehead. “Damn it, I wanted to follow the trail that Boba gave me, but I can’t leave Ezra.”

“What did the Mandalorian tell you?” Maul asks.

“Only that he was hired by someone who said they would wipe out the entire Pike Syndicate in exchange for the Sith weapon.” 

“That’s a terrible trade! The hatred stored within that weapon is worth planets.” 

“Well… Boba Fett wasn’t going to know that. You haven’t sensed any evil Sith searching for a missing Sith weapon, have you?” Ahsoka mutters.

“Sadly, I have not.” 

“Ok,” Ahsoka takes a deep breath. “I’m going to find Ezra, and you’re going to keep your senses sharp for any indication of our unknown, potential Sith enemy.” 

“What do I get out of this?”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “I’m finding Ezra for both of us?” 

Maul’s yellow eyes narrow to slits. Confused ones. 

“Hey, you’re the one who just made a whole thing about him being your beloved Sith apprentice.”

“Interesting…” Maul touches his chin and makes a thoughtful noise.

Ahsoka tries not to face-palm. She fails. “See you later, Maul.” 

What a weirdo! Back in the physical world, Ahsoka breathes life back into her body, and practices making a fist, but her muscles ache and refuse to cooperate. Honestly, she isn’t sure if she actually dies when she goes to… Maul’s location. She thinks her heart probably continues to beat, very slowly, like in a hibernation-state. She heard that some colonies of her species would hibernate in particularly cold seasons, or to survive natural disasters like droughts or famines, but from what she can remember, her people never practiced this. But perhaps it’s part of her biology? Well, as long as she keeps waking up, it’s all good. She can’t die now that she’s got Mayan to train, and thinking of Mayan, that girl needs a lightsaber. 

Ahsoka groans, rubbing her eyes. The cabin is quiet, which means Mayan woke up earlier. She’s still struggling to accustom herself to space travel, and the creaks and thrums of the space shuttle still set her on edge. It’s weird, because these are the sounds that bring comfort to Ahsoka. She hopes Mayan can come to feel the same way. 

They have a little kitchen. Ahsoka considers brewing herself some caff, which always helps zap energy back into her body after (she really needs to come up with a name for it). But then again, does she really want to develop a caff dependency? What would Anakin do?

He’d drink the caff.

“Keep your energy up, Snips!” 

Ahsoka boils the water. 

She stares at the frothing bubbles, thinking about Luke. 

“--. --- --- -.. -- --- .-. -. .. -. —. !”

“Morning, R2.” Ahsoka smiles. She leans down to pat his top. “How you doing?”

R2 swivels around. “.- -- .- --.. .. -. —.,” he bleeps. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me all about Luke, okay?” she says, taking the caff out of the machine.

“-.-- . … -.-- . … !”

“Hey, what’s 3P-O up to these days?” 

“.-- .. - .... ....... .-.. . .. .-”

“Hm. Good for him. He was always better suited to whatever goes on in the Senate.” Ahsoka sips the caff. Bitter. “What even is going on? I should really be more aware of the political situation in our galaxy, huh…” 

“... -. .. .--. ... ....... ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. ....... --. --- ....... --- -. ....... .- -.. ...- . -. - ..- .-. . ... !”

Ahsoka hums. She swirls the caff around in the cup. R2 still calling her Snips is… weirdly nice. She thought it would have upset her. Initially, she was unsure about taking him partly because she didn’t want to have to acknowledge Anakin’s legacy every time they spoke, but then she had told Luke that the Jedi lost their way because ultimately they failed to deal with their emotions, and were eaten up by them. She can’t let the same thing happen to her, so… she’ll get used to the tightness in her chest whenever R2 bleeps “... -. .. .--. …", and eventually it’ll loosen, and she’ll be alright.

“Alright.” Ahsoka dumps the rest of the caff in the waste. “You’ll like this. We’re going looking for Ezra.”

R2 whistles in enthusiasm.

“Yep, Ezra, Ezra Bridger, former padawan of Kanan Jarris and — Maul will stab me if I don’t say it — former Sith apprentice.” Ahsoka winces slightly. “Thankfully, Kanan brought him back to the light, but he died only a few months after, and then Ezra was lost in the unknown regions with Thrawn. I wanna bring him home, R2.”

“--. --- --- -..”

“But Mayan needs a kyber crystal, and honestly, I don’t know where to get the materials to construct a lightsaber anymore…” She tosses hers onto the tabletop. “I got mine from a Sith I defeated, and I purified the crystals. I’m not trying that with the deathsaber.”

“... .--. .- .-. . ....... .--. .- .-. - … !”

Ahsoka chuckles. “I can try with spare parts, but I’m no Anakin Skywalker.” 

R2 whistles a low, melancholy note.

“Hey, it’s alright! We’ll figure it out.” She pats his top again. “You and me, buddy. And Mayan as well.” Her gaze is drawn to the little cylinder window, to the shining stars. “And someday… maybe Luke will build us Jedi a home again.”

—

Luke contemplates for maybe half an hour. He’s mostly just trying to figure out what his life would look like if he did it. Obviously, he isn’t giving upon his planet — the Jedi should have a home, and there should be a temple for them to train their younglings… however…

The Mandalorian needs his help. Or maybe he doesn’t. But Luke would still like to offer him a hand with the darksaber if he wants it. And there’s still so much he could teach Grogu about the ways of the force. He did, after all, accept Yoda’s lightsaber, so maybe… maybe he does want to become a Jedi. 

What if his bond with the Mandalorian puts him in danger? Luke wants to be able to guide him if that happens. He can’t lose those innocent dark eyes that reflect the stars to fear and hatred. 

Mind made up, Luke rises from his meditative position on the floor of the quiet space he found in Boba’s palace. It’s an old weapons room; probably used by the Gamorrians, judging by the rusty axes which hang from racks on the walls. He pats the dust from his robes and heads out into the landing zone.

He finds the Mandalorian checking out his ship. It’s fine, of course. But Luke gets it. Starships are cool. Grogu is sitting on the engine which protrudes from the front.

“You could do with covering that up,” Luke says as he approaches. 

The Mandalorian glances at the engine. “It would ruin the front. There isn’t space for a cover.” 

“It’s not streamlined.” 

He shrugs, leaning against a thruster. “Doesn’t need to go any faster.” 

Luke laughs. “Okay, show-off.” 

“Are you leaving?”

He takes a deep breath. “I was going to ask you something, actually.” 

“Okay.”

“It’s about that.” Luke points to the weapon on his hip.

The Mandalorian takes it in his hand and holds it out to him. “Do you want it?”

“What?” Luke exclaims. “No, no way. It’s an important Mandalorian weapon.”

The Mandalorian sighs. 

“Doesn’t it mean you can lay claim to Mandalore?” 

“I don’t know if there is even a Mandalore to lay claim to,” he says. “This other Mandalorian, Bo-Katan, wanted it, but I defeated Moff Gideon instead, and when I tried to give it to her, she told me it can only be rightfully won in combat. I yielded, but supposedly… it can’t just be given up.” 

“Oh, that’s…”

“Bad.” 

“Well, you can’t even fight her for it because you wouldn’t be taking it seriously.” Luke crosses his arms. “Is there no other way to have her take it?” 

“I could give it to her in secret, and then vanish into the unknown regions. Pretend she killed me.” 

Luke raises a brow. “Good joke.” 

The Mandalorian shrugs. “I’m just going to have to keep it for now.” 

“Won’t others challenge you for it?” 

At this, the Mandalorian stills. “Yes… it’s… a problem. For me, and Grogu. If something were to happen to me…” 

“Please let me teach you how to use it,” Luke says. “I know you’re not a Jedi, and you probably have your own Mandalorian fighting styles with a blade, but the darksaber is partly Jedi, and there’s a certain kind of focus you need to use a weapon with a kyber crystal.”

The Mandalorian tips his helmet slightly. “Don’t you have other things to do?” 

“I was going to be training Grogu.” 

“Oh.”

“I’d still like to, if you and he are okay with it.” 

“Mm…”

“I wouldn’t be able to stay with you for long, because I’m building a temple.”

“By yourself?” 

“Well, the droids are doing most of the work.” 

The Mandalorian nods slowly. “Okay… for a little while.” He dips his head. "Thank you for your help.” 

Luke smiles. 

—

The first place that comes to her mind is Lothal. If Ezra did find his back there, she’s not sure how long he would have stayed, but if he was to somewhere… Lothal is her best bet. 

She doesn’t contact Hera, although she could. Her holo-net blinks back at her, Hera’s profile flickering before her eyes, but she shuts it off. She can’t give her false hope. Especially since her only reason to believe Ezra has returned is Maul’s force ghost. Ahsoka does not want to have that conversation, ever, with anyone. Once she has some evidence, she’ll contact her. 

In the meantime, Ahsoka watches the spiralling blue of hyperspace racing by in the pilot seat. Mayan fidgets with her cloak from beside her.

“How much longer?”

“We’re almost there. Lothal is only a few parsecs away.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want it back?”

“Mayan…” Ahsoka turns to her. “It’s okay. I told you to keep it for now. Do you remember the drills we went over?” 

Mayan nods quickly. “First form, second form, third form,” she says. 

“Good. Let’s get ready to go.” 

Lothal is the same, strange, sandy, concrete planet it has always been. Ahsoka and Mayan disembark in the sand near the supply run track, and weave their way into the main town. Ahsoka does not sense any presence, and she does not see any indication that Ezra has been through here. She stops to ask a few vendors if they have seen a boy with dark blue hair. She can’t say what he was wearing. No, she doesn’t know how tall her is. How long is his hair? Not sure either. 

Eventually, she has to call it quits. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find anything.” Mayan’s shoulders sag. She seems to have taken their lack of success to heart. 

R2 hums sadly as he trundles along beside them.

“It’s alright, let’s try again tomorrow.” 

“Where are we going now?” 

Ahsoka points into the distance. The sun is setting, and the sky is dark, but on the horizon, there’s a tall tower. “There,” she says. “It’s the last place we should check, then we can return to the shuttle.” 

As she finishes speaking, a ship flies low over the town. She pulls Mayan to the side, pressing a finger to her lips, before venturing out for a better look. 

“What is it?” 

“It looks… imperial. Could just be a stolen ship, though.” 

“Are they stormtroopers?” Mayan pulls her hood further over her head. 

Ahsoka purses her lips. “I’m not sure. Let’s go to the tower quickly. If there are remnants of the Empire here, it’s possible that they’re looking for Ezra as well.” 

Or someone else.

“R2, I need you to wait here,” Ahsoka says once they reach the speeder bikes. They’re no longer used by the empire, but the locals still take the supply run to the outer areas down this track. 

Mayan touches the bike gingerly. “Isn’t this stealing?”

Ahsoka chuckles. “Not if we bring them back. Come on, hold tightly to my waist.” 

Mayan slips on behind her, brushing her feathers out of the way. She’s careful to hide them under her cloak in populated areas. Ahsoka has never seen feathered people before, and she wonders if they’ve been hunted before for them to hide. Or perhaps they just never left their home planet. 

“-.-. --- -- . ....... -... .- -.-. -.- ....... ... --- --- -.” R2 whistles. 

“We will, R2.” Ahsoka starts the engine. 

They make it to the tower quickly. At one point, another ship flies over their head. It seems to be the same ship from before, but Ahsoka’s grip tightens on the handles when the thought crosses her mind that it might not be and they could be heading into a trap. She can’t come up with any reason for the Empire to be holding out here, though, other than to use it as a trading port. Lothal was always a convenient stop-off location, and it’s entirely possible that their presence here is nothing to do with any searches for missing individuals. 

Once they reach the tower, Ahsoka forgoes her hood and takes Mayan’s hand as they climb the rickety steps to the top. There’s a lift that she’s sure Ezra used, but with those ships flying overhead, she doesn’t risk starting any electronics. The staircase spirals for miles in the darkness, but she doesn’t pull out a hand torch. Mayan stumbles a few times, but Ahsoka steadies her with a hand around her waist, and tells her to match her footsteps. 

“Just get used to the pattern your feet fall into. Repetitive action like this is a good form of meditation.”

Mayan makes a dubious noise, as if meditating while walking upstairs in the darkness isn’t her idea of finding inner peace. Well. Ahsoka supposes the risk of falling down probably negates any peaceful thoughts. 

A trapdoor leads them onto the balcony. Ahsoka pulls Mayan up after glancing down, but the place doesn’t seem inhabited. Once she’s up, they creep around to the front. 

Then Ahsoka notices the light. 

She holds up a hand for Mayan to stop. Ahsoka’s breath catches in her throat. Could it really be… She swallows, pressing a hand against the smooth outer wall of the tower. The light splurges onto the balcony, a warm orange glow. 

Deep breath. Okay, she has to go inside to check. Whoever is inside will soon find out she’s there if she wants to look in. There are no other entrances that she knows of. 

Ahsoka stands up, and walks slowly towards the entrance. She stops once she can see inside, her cloak bathed in the light. There’s blue. She thinks for a moment that it is Ezra, but then her heart sinks and one hand is on her saber in an instant, the other out protectively towards Mayan.

“What are you doing here,” her voice is dry. It doesn’t sound right. 

“He sent me here,” says Thrawn.

The chiss sits on a crate, hands clasped in front of him, uncharacteristically slouched in a way that tells of the length of time he and Ezra must have spent in the unknown regions. His hair has grown to a length where it forms a curtain around his face, straight and sleek and iridescent blue, from which red eyes piece through at her.

“Where is he?”

Thrawn closes his eyes. When he speaks, he speaks softly — it’s a voice Ahsoka could have gone a lifetime without hearing again. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” 

“Explain,” says Ahsoka, not lowering her lightsaber for a moment. 

“When we were transported back—”

“How did you get back?”

Thrawn sighs softly. “Will you let me finish?”

Ahsoka remains silent. 

“Good,” says Thrawn. “We discovered a means of traversing the world-between-worlds not unlike hyperspace lanes, though it requires a Jedi and... additional direction. Ez— Bridger chose to pursue the mystery instead, believing it to be of some importance to a dark threat he had sensed. I must reach him.” 

“So he didn’t…” Ahsoka wets her lips. “He didn’t make it.” 

“What intervened in the world-between-worlds... It was a magic I have not seen before.” 

Ahsoka’s arm drops involuntarily. Force, is Ezra truly lost forever? He’s been gone four years. If he hasn’t returned with Thrawn successfully… where is he?

“Could he still be wherever you were before?” 

Thrawn’s red eyes narrow ever so slightly. “No.” 

Ahsoka stares at him for a few heartbeats. “Okay. Thrawn, are you alone?”

“Yes,” murmurs Thrawn. “I haven’t set any traps either.” 

“Mayan, you can come inside,” Ahsoka says. Mayan grasps Ahsoka’s arm and allows herself to be guided towards the crate opposite Thrawn.

“Please, sit,” says Thrawn. “The heating unit is warm.” 

Ahsoka studies his eyes. He refuses to meet her gaze mostly, save for fleeting looks which Ahsoka finds either avoidant in accordance to what you would expect having been isolated for four years or suspicious. It’s Thrawn. His face does not betray very much at all.

“You have… a padawan? That’s what you call it, isn’t it?”

“This is Mayan,” Ahsoka says, gesturing. “Mayan, this is Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

“Please, just Thrawn.” 

Mayan glances at Thrawn quickly then hides her face. 

“She’s shy,” says Ahsoka. 

Thrawn peers closer. “Is she feathered?”

Ahsoka’s jaw tightens. “She’s not a specimen. "

“Of course,” says Thrawn, unclasping his hands and sitting back. “I am still searching for Bridger. Do you have any information that may be of use?”

Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “Why are you searching for him?”

“Good… courtesy?” 

“That’s not a reason.” 

“How so? He is lost.” 

“Let me get this straight.” Ahsoka grimaces. “You’re concerned for Ezra’s wellbeing?”

Thrawn’s hair brushes his cheekbones as he nods. 

Seriously… First Maul, now Thrawn? What’s with these villain redemptions? Ahsoka makes a face that probably looks like she’s just tasted something unpleasant, but quite frankly, she doesn’t care. This is whacky as hyperspace.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much, only that he is alive.” 

Thrawn’s eyes widen. “How do you know?

“Jedi… senses.” 

His nose wrinkles. “Can you sense where he is?”

“Not right now.”

“Then you’re little use,” says Thrawn. He stares right at her. Ahsoka struggles to hold his gaze. 

“There are remnants of the Empire here,” Ahsoka says. “I wondered if they were searching for him, or you, but how would they know to come here?” she propositions. 

“Unless they already have him.” 

Ahsoka tenses. “You think they might have captured him?” 

Thrawn nods. “It’s a possibility. And currently, it’s my only lead… but I can’t let myself be discovered, so I have no way of finding out.” 

“Why not? Couldn’t you use their resources to search for him?”

“I don’t know who is leading them. Perhaps they wish to seek me out… even so, I cannot trust them until I know more.”

“I see.” Ahsoka takes a moment to think. Thrawn doesn’t want to be discovered by any remnants of the Empire yet. There’s likely a leadership void which involves factions trying to manoeuvre each other out of the way to seize power, and without a solid grasp of the politics, he doesn’t want to involve himself. Perhaps Thrawn also doesn’t want to lead… from what she knows of him, he was only ever interested in military strategy — the other aspects of leading a government like the Empire would likely not interest him. 

But for now… can she trust him? Is it work investigating such a flimsy lead with this monster? 

She’ll have to warm Mayan discreetly not to trust him. Or, does she even have to be discreet? Surely Thrawn doesn’t think she’s going to trust him right off the bat. 

“Mayan, Thrawn is not to be trusted.” 

Mayan’s eyes dart up, startled.

“But we are going to investigate whether Ezra may be a prisoner to some remnants of the Empire with him,” she says.

Mayan’s expression hardens. “If you say so…” she whispers. 

Ahsoka nods. “Thrawn, we’re going to return to our ship. We’ll meet you in town in the morning if you still want our help.” 

“Thank you…” Thrawn tries on a smile. It comes across as more of a sneer. 

Chapter Text

Luke returns to the temple to get some things in order. He’ll have to reprogram the droids if he plans to be away for a long time, and without R2 to hold down the fort, there’s no one to maintain his other ships. Leia forcibly gifted him one of the newly issued X-Wings, but Luke is a sucker for nostalgia, and he hasn’t been able to bring himself to replace his original one. It’s comforting to have the same steering controls at his fingertips that he used to take down the death star… stops him from getting imposter syndrome. Yes, he did that. Blew up the death star, in this ship. He is, actually, a Jedi. 

R2 also dealt with security. He really hated leaving him here when he went on supply runs, though. The little guy was just so useful! Luke would not recommend flying without an astro-mech to anyone, even for a two-hour round trip to the closest inhabited planet. Now that R2 wouldn’t be here… he should programme some of the worker droids to notify him if a foreign ship enters the atmosphere, or at least comes close enough for his radar to pick up. 

The droids take an afternoon to deal with. Luke considers sleeping, maybe just for a few hours, and leaving in the early morning — but he knows he won’t be able to sleep. He won’t be able to stop the thoughts from racing across his mind. 

He had serious trouble sleeping during the rebellion for that reason. Sometimes it was fear that kept him awake; once he somewhat overcame his fears due to his Jedi training, it was replaying fights, thinking of ways he could have gotten killed or defeated his opponent faster. Sometimes they were in space, and other times with a lightsaber. When Grogu first came he stayed awake an entire night thinking up training drills, eager to get started with his first pupil. He’s grateful Grogu was an easy student. If he’d been difficult… Luke is somewhat liable to doubt himself. 

He arrives at the location the Mandalorian gave him a couple of hours later. He was warned not to expect a warm welcome. Actually, he was warned to expect serious hostility and potentially have to make a swift get-away. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

He realises as he’s flying over a lake surrounded by sheer cliffs that he should probably have told Han and Leia what he was up to. The Mandalorians, if they don’t kill him on sight, will probably not take kindly to him sending a transition to his senator sister and her ex-smuggler husband. 

Oh well. Leia knows he’s terrible at keeping in touch. He can give it a week or two before they’ll call and promptly send out a search party.

He lands behind the mountain to avoid getting blasted out of the sky. Jedi should not form attachments, but he would rather keep his X-Wing intact for a few more years if possible. He grabs a small pack of rations and necessities from the co-pilot seat, which he slings over his shoulder. His Jedi robes will just have to last. There’s a spare rebel pilot uniform in the ship somewhere, but he’s going here to be a Jedi, not a rebel pilot. Intrinsically, of course, he’s both — he can’t be one without the other. It’s a reality that’s been sitting heavily on him lately. 

What’s the point of a dι’кυтℓα נєтιιѕє who doesn’t help people? Was defeating the Empire not the most Jedi thing he’s ever done? Force, he doesn’t even know what… what even is expected of a Jedi? He’s just been following his instincts up until now. Obi-Wan seemed to think that was the right idea. He hoped Ahsoka might have some answers, but their conversation just left him even more lost than before. If he isn’t supposed to follow the teachings of his predecessors, which led them to ruin and disaster, what is he supposed to do? 

Perhaps he needs to go back to their roots. What were Jedi before they got involved in politics and became tools to those hungry for power? Is there even anything of those Jedi left? 

He can’t answer these questions right now. At least, with the Mandalorian, he feels more like a Jedi than ever. Because that’s what he is with him — he’s not Luke, he’s just the Jedi. 

The Mandalorians come out to meet him. A colourful audience of bescar-clad warriors, looming like a group of predators eyeing up their prey. Luke wraps his cloak tighter around himself. He doesn’t see the familiar silver bescar helmet, and he doesn’t sense Grogu’s presence nearby. This is… potentially concerning, but he’s committed now. 

A Mandalorian with a more ornate gold helmet approaches him, a thick, fur cloak swept over her shoulders. In her hands, the clutches two metal tools. A hammer, and another tool he cannot name. When she speaks, her voice holds an unwavering authority that would have rivalled even the rebel leaders. “Halt, trespasser.” 

Luke follows her instruction. “I was—”

“Do not speak,” she commands. “Hand over your weapon.”

He bites his lip. A Jedi should keep their lightsaber with them at all times, but if he’s going to earn the trust of these Mandalorians…

Plus, he has other tricks up his sleeve. Luke moves his cloak aside and reaches for his lightsaber. His eyes flicker down the length of the hilt. “Please take care of it,” he says, and tosses it to the Mandalorian.

She inclines her helmet slightly. “You will follow me inside, and we will discuss how to proceed.” 

“Where is…” he starts, following her brisk footsteps towards the entrance of a cave. The Mandalorians part to let them through, their helmets gleaming in the sunlight like a hundred sharpened blades. Their hands inch towards their blasters, and Luke tries not to make any sudden moves. 

Two break away from the group to follow them inside as they are swallowed by the cave entrance. Luke blinks, eyes adjusting to the darkness, and he is led through winding tunnels into a large room awash in blue flames. 

In the centre stands a cylindrical mechanism he hasn’t seen before. It looks like a forge, but it’s more open than ones he’s seen for welding starship parts; smaller, more compact. The gold Mandalorian leads him to a small table, and she sits on the further side. 

“Sit,” she says. The two Mandalorians who accompanied them take up positions by the door.

“I apologise for—”

“It is done,” she interjects. “There is nothing to be said on the matter. You have intruded into our territory, and found our covert. We will have to relocate.”

Luke tries not to squirm. He keeps his gaze steady, and imagines the eyes behind that dark T-shaped visor. “Still, I’m sorry. I offered my aid to one of your clan, and he trusted me with the location of your covert.” 

“Which he had no right to do,” she says. “Din Djarin removed his helmet and is an apostate, therefore, he cannot speak for our tribe.”

“Is he here?” 

“He is. But I will speak with you first and decide whether or not I will allow your interference in our affairs,” she sets her tools down on the table. “You wish to train him to wield the darksaber. Do you understand the implications of this?” 

“I want to help him defend himself and keep Grogu safe. Grogu is my padawan.” 

“Grogu is a Mandalorian foundling.” 

“He has the force.”

The Mandalorian’s hand twitches. “You cannot share a youngling across our two creeds. They oppose at every turn. Our two philosophies are fundamentally incompatible.” 

“It is the Jedi way to offer aid to those who need it.”

“You will put him in immeasurable danger by acknowledging his claim to Mandalore. There are many who will challenge him — it would be better for him to accept that he is no longer part of our tribe and never return.” 

“You’re his people,” Luke says. “He won’t want to leave.”

“He has broken his vow and removed his helmet, by the creed, he is no longer a Mandalorian.” 

“I understand…” Luke hesitates. “But he wishes to redeem himself to rejoin your covert. I have offered to help him learn to use the darksaber so that he can protect himself against challengers.”

“He will be challenged as a result of this. Does he wish to lay claim to Mandalore? Otherwise, why train with the darksaber?” 

“He only wants to keep Grogu safe,” says Luke. “Surely that’s reason enough?” 

“There are century-long feuds entwined with the ownership of that blade.”

“But you understand, don’t you?” Luke presses. “He has to protect his foundling.” 

“It is not that I don’t find it honourable,” she says. “I do. But I hope you understand what you are involving yourself in. Mandalorians and Jedi are ancient enemies. Many still hold this conflict in their hearts There is a saying in our culture: мαиdσ'αd dяααя dιgυ — a Mandalorian never forgets. The conflicts involved in the darksaber and the leadership of our planet are even more volatile. I would not be surprised if you both end up dead.”

“As a Jedi, I will still help him, because it’s the right thing to do.” 

“In this, at least, our philosophies align,” the Mandalorian concludes. “He will need allies, if this is the path he has chosen.”

Luke drops his gaze. “He doesn’t have much of a choice.” 

“If that stays his mindset then he is doomed. You must work with him to strengthen his resolve. Din Djarin is a powerful warrior, one of, if not the best in our clan. He was greatly respected. I was surprised when I learned of his transgressions, but somehow, I am not surprised to learn that he has befriended a Jedi.” 

The tightness in his chest dislodges a little. “I don’t know him well, but I promise I will do my best to help him.” 

The Mandalorian dips her helmet in what Luke interprets as a gesture of thanks. “First, you will train with me using the darksaber, then you may train Din Djarin,” she decides, and Luke’s heart races.

—

Mayan follows Ahsoka closely into the town. Despite it being early morning, the fruit vendors are already out with their colourful produce on display in large baskets, stalls swathed in cloth. Mayan shies away from a man who shoves a meiloorun out towards her; although she wants to try it. Ahsoka keeps moving. 

“Where will he meet us?” 

“Keep your eyes peeled,” says Ahsoka. “He’ll make himself obvious enough to us. But Mayan, don’t forget what I said yesterday.” Ahsoka glances at her out of the edge of her hood. “Thrawn is incredibly cunning, and the most intelligent military strategist this galaxy has ever seen. If you sense danger, I want you to run immediately, and send a message to Luke through R2.”

“But what about you?” Mayan reaches for her arm. “I can’t leave you.”

Ahsoka squeezes her hand gently. “It’s important to me that I keep you safe. I’ve dealt with Thrawn before; if anything happens, I’ll be alright.”

“What if he tries to hurt you?”

“He should have no reason to harm me. I don’t know anything that could be of use to him.”

Thrawn looks almost ordinary, hugged by a dark brown cloak, peering suspiciously at the people passing by. He leans against the wall of a building, and picks at a loose thread on his sleeve. Ahsoka nods to Mayan, and they head over to meet him.

“Let’s go, quickly,” he mutters. “They have eyes everywhere, and I am not inconspicuous.” Stepping past Ahsoka, he tugs his sleeve over his blue hand. 

Mayan’s feathers itch under her cloak.

They follow him out of the town, but instead of going towards the supply run track, Thrawn takes them across a rocky landscape which seems to be used as a dumping ground by the residents of the town. Piles of scrap metal mixed with crushed rocks cast shadows over them, and not far off, sheer mountains tear through the clouds. 

“You could have told me we were going for a hike,” Ahsoka says dryly. 

“There is a military base located within the mountain.” Thrawn passes her a pair of binoculars. “I have analysed their movement patterns. Their lower guards change at mid-day.”

Ahsoka shoots him a quizzical look. “You want to infiltrate immediately?” 

“Do you have an alternative strategy?” 

“You’re the strategist.” Ahsoka shrugs. “Lead the way.” 

Thrawn’s smile makes Mayan shiver. “Of course,” he says. 

—

“ℓααм… ∂ααв… ραут… ѕтααвι…” 

Luke parries each blow with practised ease. Din watches from the sidelines with Grogu as the Armorer pushes him back with each powerful strike. After two rounds, the blade drags, almost as though it’s tiring. And the more Luke tires to work against its stubbornness, the more stubborn the blade gets. It actually reminds him a lot of training Grogu.

“You are fighting the blade,” says the Armourer. 

At her words, Din’s helmet snaps up. 

“It’s an unusual weapon.” 

“If it’s even difficult for you, I don’t feel so bad,” says Din.

Luke rubs the back of his neck with a grin. “Please explain to me how the darksaber works.”

The Armourer leaves some distance between them and lets her tools fall to her side. She gestures for Luke to withdraw the blade, which he does, and listens. “It is said that the darksaber has its own will. Perhaps to properly wield it, one must understand that will.”

“Can you tell me about its previous owners?” 

“Bo-Katan Kryze fought well with the blade. She believes she is the rightful ruler of Mandalore. There was also… an evil wizard. I believe you call them Sith.” 

“A Sith had the darksaber?” 

“After he defeated Pre Vizsla. This was not long before the Jedi were wiped out.”

“But surely a Sith would struggle greatly with a blade like this,” Luke says, frowning. “The Sith gain their strength from their emotions; fear, anger, and hatred. Would that not cause a conflict of wills?” 

“I am not sure. It is probable that their wills were aligned. In the past, Mandalorians had more in common with the Sith than with the Jedi.” 

“Conquest, domination. Right.” Luke muses. He glances at Din apologetically. “Sorry, this might be tricky for me to get the hang of.”

“I doubt it,” says Din.

“Jedi are supposed to let go of those types of feelings and find a peaceful way. The darksaber feels…” Luke turns it over in his hand. “Almost hungry! Like it needs to be fuelled by them.” 

“I don’t have many of those feelings either.”

“Patu,” says Grogu.

“Emotions are amplified in battle,” says the Armourer. “Perhaps meditation and practice blades are in order.” 

“Alright.” Luke jumps off the raised platform and returns the darksaber to Din. “Can we get some practice blades?” 

Din stares at him for a moment. “I can’t…”

Luke looks at the Armourer, who turns away. 

“I am not permitted to use any of the covert’s resources until I have been forgiven for my transgressions.” His voice is flat, almost cold, but Luke can feel the unpleasant mix of emotions exuding from him. 

“Alright,” Luke says. He’s about to suggest that they head to Mandalore right now when his holo receiver beeps from inside his robes. With a frown, he pulls the little device out. It’s too soon for Leia to be wondering where he is, and he’s only just left Ahsoka. Surely she isn’t contacting him already? 

Whatever it is, people usually don’t contact Luke unless it’s an emergency. 

“I’m sorry,” he says to Din and the Armourer. “I need to receive this in case it’s important. May I return to my ship?” 

“You may use our transmitter,” says the Armourer. 

Luke’s eyes widen. “Are you sure? I mean, thank you. I don’t know if mine would even have enough range. My X-Wing is an older model.”

“The covert is preparing to relocate as we speak. If our location is compromised now, it is of no consequence.” 

“I understand,” says Luke. His fault.

—

Their infiltration capacity is limited; Thrawn is too tall to wear the stormtrooper gear; Ahsoka’s lekku make a helmet an impossibility; and Mayan is far too short to pass for a stormtrooper. The feathers aren’t even the main issue.

“What a group we are,” says Ahsoka. The base is semi-dark from lack of power. She kicks a trooper in the face, and he stumbles back into the wall with a dull thud that tells her he’s out cold. 

Mayan ducks under an arm which was swung at her head. She peers up as the trooper loses his balance when Ahsoka sweeps his legs out from underneath him. 

“We should hurry to the upper level,” says Thrawn. “There is a terminal there where I can check whether or not any prison cells are occupied.”

“What’s the plan if they are, or aren’t?” Ahsoka asks.

“If they are, we open them. If not, we leave.” He summons the lift with the keypad. 

“Alright, sounds good.” 

Ahsoka nudges Mayan behind her as they step into the lift. R2 rolls in after them. Mayan thinks it must have been a while since he’s done anything like this from the energy in his beeps and whistles. Ahsoka had to tell him to quieten down at one point.   

R2 twists a metal rod into one of the ports, and Mayan watches in wonder as it makes the lift start rising. She’s never been in a lift before. Or seen a droid connect to an even bigger machine to make it move. 

They arrive and the lift opens out into darkness. Thrawn goes first, stepping cautiously into the shadows. Ahsoka follows after her and Mayan share a glance. 

“Is the terminal here?” asks Ahsoka, her voice ringing out through the unknown space. 

Mayan thinks of the cursed mountain back home. That endless darkness that seemed to be part of no room; no discernible shape. Her feathers rise with goosebumps, and she strokes down her arm to smoother her fear. The sound of her footsteps is uncomfortably loud in the silence. 

She can hear Thrawn moving about from in the distance and catches a flash of red. Her eyes aren’t suited to the dark, but it seems as though Ahsoka’s are, so she guides Mayan with a gentle tug of her sleeve into the centre of the room. 

Control panels blink awake. Multicoloured buttons and switches form a broken circle of panels, transparent screens above each one. 

R2 gets to work on the terminal. 

“How come it's so empty?”

“Not enough men,” Thrawn replies. “These are the remnants of a once-great Empire, after all.” 

“The Empire was great for very few people.” Ahsoka crosses her arms. 

“Try 100-01-09-23.”

R2 whistles and twists the panel. It blares red. 

“ƙᡶꪖꫝ. They’ve removed my clearance code,” Thrawn mutters. “The prison cells are further up,” he says to Ahsoka. “If you don’t want to go any further, I understand.” 

“I don’t know what you plan to do with Ezra when you find him, so I’ll keep going if it’s all the same to you.” 

“Understandable,” says Thrawn.

The journey to the top of the base takes longer. Mayan fidgets with the hem of her cloak, sneaking glances at Ahsoka. She wants Ahsoka to look at her. She wants her sky-blue eyes to tell her that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Thrawn always stands so so still. It makes Mayan think he’s a droid, but even R2 is more animated. 

They come out into the sky. Mayan blinks in the sudden bright light, and shields her face with her arm. Ahsoka stares at Thrawn, who stands with one arm tucked behind his back. He has rid himself of the cloak, and a pristine white uniform reflects the sunlight like a moon. 

“You are surrounded on all sides, so don’t try anything,” he says softly. His words would be lost in the wind if they weren’t impossible to miss. “Unless you want to sacrifice your padawan.” Thrawn nods towards Mayan, who startles at the blaster barrel pressed into the back of her head. 

Ahsoka just looks at him, cloak fluttering. “Why?” is all she says.

“The Jedi are enemies of the Empire. Capture or kill on sight. I tracked your ship from Tatooine and decided to capture you, as I believe you can aid me in my search for Bridger." Thrawn signals one of the stormtroopers to approach her. “Drop your lightsaber, please.” 

Ahsoka complies. “Your actions make me think you and Ezra aren't friends. But he wouldn't help you return if you weren't..." She narrows her eyes. "What do you really want?"

Thrawn's eyes take on an even greater intensity. "Are you intelligent enough to figure it out?" 

“I refuse to help the Empire capture any Jedi.”

“Understandable,” says Thrawn. 

Ahsoka finally looks at Mayan, who is frozen to the spot by the blaster. The look in her eyes is the only warning Mayan gets before she shifts her hand and the stormtrooper behind her is knocked down. 

In the blink of an eye, Mayan is gone. 

She reaches the edge and she jumps.

The air whistles in her ears, and she falls faster and faster. Mayan stretches out her arms as the ground closes in, fighting against the air resistance to adjust her trajectory. She’s never jumped from that high before. The fall is heavy. 

She’s gliding a little too fast, and rolls when she hits the ground, cringing as her feathers tousle. R2 thunks down beside her. 

“-- . ... ... .- --. . ....... .-.. ..- -.- . !” 

Mayan’s blood runs cold. “I broke my arm,” she says. Her arm trembles from the shock, currently numb, and sickness rolls in her stomach. She looks at R2, who whistles urgently. “We need save Ahsoka,” she stammers. 

“.-.. ..- -.- .”

“L…” Mayan’s eyebrows twitch. “Luke? Message Luke… will he get it in time? Do we have to go back to the ship?”

R2 whistles. 

“O-okay,” Mayan stumbles to her feet. “We need to get there before the blue man finds it.”

Walking with a broken arm is painful. With every step, Mayan winces, pain shooting up her arm and through her body like a stab wound that runs right through her. She tries not to think of Ahsoka, and what could be happening to her right now. Her master is strong. She’ll be ok.

But once again… Mayan has been nothing but a burden to her. Her lip trembles. If that stormtrooper hadn’t held her at blaster point… 

R2 whistles a low note as they trudge through the rocky valley. 

“I don’t want to leave Ahsoka,” whispers Mayan. “But what if she decides I’m too much trouble?”

“... -. .. .--. ... ....... .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - !”

“Who’s… Snips?”

“.- .... ... --- -.- .-”

“Oh… why do you call her that?” 

“-. .- -- . ....... -- .- ... - . .-. ....... --. .- ...- . ....... .... . .-.”

Mayan smiles a little. “Do you think if Ahsoka likes me enough she’ll give me a name too?”

“-.. . ..-. .. -. .. - . .-.. -.- !” R2 beeps. 

“I don’t like my name anyway,” Mayan says. “It means ‘water from the ground,’ but I prefer the sky more.” 

R2 whistles in agreement. 

Mayan tucks her broken arm close to her chest. “I wanna be like you R2,” she says. “You’re a great friend and you’re always helpful.” 

R2’s top spins around with glee. “.. .----. -- ....... - .... . ....... -... . ... - !” he beeps. 

When they reach the ship, they’re too late. A burning skeleton greets them, metal hull creaking under the heat of the flames. 

“Oh no,” Mayan groans. “Ahsoka had all of her things there.” 

“... -. .. .--. ... ....... .-- --- -. .----. - ....... -- .. -. -..”

Mayan leans against R2. Her arm is throbbing steadily with pain. “Are you sure she won’t mind?”

“-. --- - ....... .. -- .--. --- .-. - .- -. - ....... ..-. --- .-. ....... .--- . -.. ..”

Mayan sighs. Ahsoka did tell her that Jedi didn’t have attachments to material things. But now they have a problem: they need to find somewhere with a radar powerful enough to send a signal to Luke’s location. 

R2 whistles a sigh as well. 

“Let’s go back to the town,” Mayan decides. “We should keep away from here in case the blue man comes searching for us.”

“--- -.-” R2 trundles after her.

“If they find us, you have to get away, alright? You’re more important than me.” 

R2 bleeps unhappily, but he doesn’t refuse her request. 

“Good,” says Mayan. 

—

“Hey R2, why are you a different colour?”

“.. .----. -- ....... .... .. -.. .. -. —.” 

“Hiding? Who from?” 

“--. .-. .- -. -.. ....... .- -.. -- .. .-. .- .-.. ....... - .... .-. .- .-- -. !”

“Grand Admiral who?” 

“- .... .-. .- .-- -.”

Luke turns to the Armourer and Din, a frown etched into his features. “Grand Admiral Thrawn,” he repeats. The two Mandalorians stare back cluelessly. “R2, what happened to Ahsoka and Mayan?” 

“... -. .. .--. ... ....... -.-. .- .--. - ..- .-. . -..” R2 beeps from across the holo-net. “... -.- -.-- ....... .... .. -.. .. -. --. ....... - --- ---” 

“Um, okay. That’s bad. Is she hiding nearby?” 

“. --.. .-. .- .----. ... ....... -... .- ... . -- . -. -”

Luke blinks. “R2… who is Ezra?” 

R2 is silent for a moment. “..-. .-. .. . -. -..” he beeps. 

Luke sighs into his hand. “Okay, well if he’s a friend, I’m sure she’ll be alright in his basement. Send me your coordinates.” 

The planet of Lothal appears on the screen, information generating on either side. Luke has never been to Lothal — it doesn’t seem dangerous at all. He’s surprised that anyone could have captured Ahsoka there. 

“-.-. .... . -.-. -.- ....... -..- -....- .-- .. -. --. ....... ..-. --- .-. ....... - .-. .- -.-. -.- . .-. …” 

Luke tenses visibly. “Why would there be a tracker on my ship?”

“.--- ..- ... - ....... -.-. .... . -.-. -.- ....... .. - !”

“Okay, okay.” Luke lifts his hands. “I’ll check it out. I’ll come to Lothal soon, alright?”

 “.. - .----. ... ....... .- .-.. .-.. ....... ..- -. -.. . .-. ....... -.-. --- -. - .-. --- .-..”

“What do you mean ‘it’s all under control’?” Luke exclaims. “Ahsoka’s been captured! Of course I’m going.” 

“- .... .-. .- .-- -. ....... .. ... ....... -.-. .-.. . ...- . .-.”

“I don’t care if he’s clever. He doesn’t know I’m coming.” 

R2 whistles a low note. 

Luke bites his lip, considering. He doesn’t usually argue with R2. Actually, it’s never happened before. If R2 thinks he shouldn’t go… 

Well, the little droid’s never been wrong before. 

“Alright, I’ll check in with you in a bit. I’ll check out my ship and you… stay out of trouble, alright? I don’t want this Thrawn guy getting his hands on you.” 

R2 seems to ignore the last part. “- . .-.. .-.. ....... .-.. . .. .- ....... .- -... --- ..- - ....... - .... .-. .- .-- -.” 

“Okay,” Luke hesitates. “I’ll tell Leia about Thrawn.” 

R2 cuts the call, and Luke doesn’t move. His hands grasp the side of the control panel, glove crinkling. 

Din speaks. “Are you… alright?”

Luke has never heard of anybody called Thrawn. Perhaps R2 thinks Leia might have, since she was actually a prominent figure in the rebellion, unlike farm-boy Luke. He brushes a clump of sweat-damp hair from his forehead and closes his eyes. “I’m okay, but I’m afraid somebody caught my friends, and might be looking for me as well.”

“This is the story of our kind in this galaxy,” says the Armourer. “Jedi, and Mandalorian.” 

Grogu peers up at Luke from the floor with his big dark eyes. Luke tries to smile as he lifts his arms to be picked up and tugs the top of his boots. 

“Bu?” says Grogu, now eye-level with Luke. 

“Very bu,” Luke agrees. 

Din and Grogu accompany him to his ship. Luke skims his hand over the wing, gun barrels, and even the landing gear. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. He shakes his head. 

“May I?” Din holds Grogu out towards him.

“Sure,” says Luke, and takes Grogu.

Din investigates the wiring box. “This is where I would find them,” he says, “when they were searching for Grogu.”

Grogu has taken an interest in Luke’s hair and is amusing himself by winding it around his fingers like yarn. “Did you find trackers often?” Luke asks. 

“Yes.”

Din tugs something, which results in a crackle of sparks. Luke cringes. 

“Found it,” he says.

Luke’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says, and can’t think of anything else to add.

Din seems to only be able to look at him. “I’m sorry,” he says, finally. “If you’re lucky, the power supply ran out before you got far.” 

“How come?” Luke asks hoarsely. 

“It’s a type of long-range tracker which gives you a very precise location. In exchange, the power runs out quickly.” 

“I should go back.” 

Din shakes his head. “That’s what you shouldn’t do.” 

“But if they found the planet I was building the temple on—”

“They will be lying in wait for you.”

Luke has another thought. “What if they tracked me here?”

“It is a possibility.” 

“We should leave.” 

“We should.” 

Chapter Text

It isn’t the worst prison cell she’s even been locked in. Ahsoka walks up and down the small room and considers the slight ramp up to the door, the flickering, yellow lights locked behind a mesh of wiring, and the padded slab she’s expected to sleep on. Thrawn has even given her a toilet. 

She sits and tries to meditate. As far as she knows, Mayan and R2 got away, made it back to the ship, and contacted Luke. Hopefully R2 had the sense to get her off world. Otherwise, they will have to hide well, because if there’s one thing Thrawn is especially focused on right now, it’s finding people. 

“I don’t sense the child nearby.”

Ahsoka sighs. “I got caught. I know, it’s embarrassing. Feel free to laugh and tell me that caring for my padawan is my weakness.” 

“Haha,” says Maul, plainly. His eyes fix on her pointedly. “Well, perhaps you should escape? Surely she’s to weak to survive by herself.” 

“She’s actually pretty tough.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Who caught you?”

“I took a gamble and decided to work with Thrawn to find Ezra. Thrawn… Thrawn-ed.” 

“You’ve been… Thrawn-ed,” says Maul, mouth twitching. 

“Okay, you’ve had your laugh.” Ahsoka glowers. “Do you have anything useful to say, or are you just bored?” 

Maul rolls his shoulders, stretching, then abruptly straightens. “Oh, I found Ezra.” 

“You what?” 

“Dathomir.” 

“Dathomir?” Ahsoka yells. “The night sisters! Of course. Thrawn said something had intervened in the world-between-worlds, but I didn’t think…”

“You’d be right,” says Maul. “My people were massacred. There shouldn’t have been anything left but lingering magic.”

“Is Ezra on Dathomir, then?” 

“Possibly. Though, I cannot say why he was drawn there… unless it had something to do with…”

Ahsoka clenches her jaw. “Maul,” she grits out, “what did you do?”

“Em, an… indoctrination ceremony? It was mostly just for fun,” he assures her. “Ezra thought it would be fun.”

“You indoctrinated him into your clan?”

“That’s…” Maul blinks. “Yes. He could be considered a son of Dathomir.”

“And that’s why the night sister magic took him to Dathomir.” Ahsoka groans. “Well, this was a complete waste of time! Now I have to deal with Thrawn and get out of here somehow.”

Maul nods, as though that had been his plan all along. “How long has it been since they returned from the unknown regions?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” 

“Find out,” insists Maul. “Spending too long on Dathomir with the spirits of the Night Sisters… would not be advisable.” 

Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “How so?” 

“They will attempt to resurrect, using whatever means they can get their hands on. I wouldn’t be surprised if they sacrifice his mortal body to gain strength to cross back over into the physical world.” 

“Are they immortal?” 

“They are… like Force ghosts that can absorb energy. With enough energy, they can reconstruct themselves, piece by piece, until all they are lacking is a physical body. They will need many sacrifices to resurrect fully.” 

“Hold on… could you resurrect?” 

“I would prefer not to,” Maul says simply. 

Ahsoka’s eyes widen. “Okay… why?”

“Haven’t you asked enough personal questions?” he snaps. “Leave. I’m busy trying to wallow in misery.” 

“Sure, okay.” Ahsoka shrugs. “But if you want to talk about it—”

“I said go,” Maul hisses. 

—

The covert loads supplies onto their carrier ships. With meticulous care, the Armourer straps her tools and forge into the back of a supply carrier, double, triple checking that it is secured and everything is accounted for. 

“The Forge is the heart of Mandalorian culture. Just as we shape the steel, we shape ourselves,” she tells Luke, as he watches her. 

“It’s not really suited to being transported, huh?”

“It is not. And it is feeble in comparison to the Great Forge on Mandalore.” 

“Have you used it?”

“It is where I was trained,” she says. Her helmet faces him, almost scrutinisingly. “Much was lost in the great purge.” 

Around them, the other Mandalorians are loading up ships and making preparations. 

“Where are you headed?” Luke asks.

“To an old Mandalorian castle. We will likely not be welcome there, but few planets these days are safe for our kind.

Luke feels heavy. “How is…” he starts. “How are things still like this? When we defeated the Emperor, I thought… y’know. But it’s still so bad!”

“Just as plants have roots, the Empire will not be defeated by picking off what is visible.” 

“Then I guess we have to keep fighting.” Luke lowers his gaze. “After all, we can’t hide forever.”

The Armourer fixes him with a look. “Hiding is how we have survived.”

Din and Grogu are waiting by his X-Wing. Luke approaches and wonders what the Mandalorian is thinking. They could go to Mandalore right now, which might be a good idea — then they can properly start training. But there is so much to do to help relocate the covert… not that Din is allowed to touch anything. The rest of his covert have been nothing short of cold to him as far as Luke’s seen, not acknowledging his presence, even bushing harshly past him, as if pretending not to notice he’s there. 

“What do you want to do?” Luke asks.

“I…” Din fixes Grogu’s clothes, although they are fine as far as Luke can tell. “I cannot stay with them, for now. I am not welcome here. It is my fault they have to relocate—”

“Our fault,” Luke corrects, with a grimace. “And hey, it was kinda my idea anyway.” 

“Okay,” Din says. “Our fault. But this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this…” He clears his throat. “Uh, why don’t we… go check out your planet?”

Luke smiles faintly. “Are you stalling?”

“Maybe,” Din says, then, “sorry.” 

“Well… if you’ve got nowhere else to be…” Luke hops into his ship and puts his helmet on. The visor hides his eyes, which is good. “I have to know,” he says softly, “if they found it. Because if they have, then…” 

“You are welcome to stay with us,” Din says. Luke watches him climb into his own ship, Grogu babbling randomly from his seat in the back. “If you want.” 

Luke huffs out a laugh. “Maybe I’m welcomed by you, and your Armourer. I don’t know about the rest of them, though.”

“They might be cold on the outside, but the creed binds them to take care of their own, and if they trust you and come to see you as one of us, they will accept you.”

Luke starts his engine and waits for one of the Mandalorians to signal that he can take off before lifting slowly off the ground. Din follows soon after. 

“Will we be able to rejoin the covert when we get back?” Luke asks over the radio.

“I suggested the location. Unless they hate me a lot, they’ll be there.” 

“What planet is it?”

“Kalevala. Bo-Katan Kryze is there with the rest of the Nite Owls.” 

“Doesn’t she want your darksaber?” 

“That’s why I don’t want to go.” 

They leave the atmosphere and the world becomes dark. The planet looms behind them, glowing in the light of its sun. Luke inputs the familiar set of coordinates into the navicomputer with his heart beating a little faster than usual, and signals to Din before making the jump to hyperspace. Blue swirls around him. 

He tries to think Jedi thoughts. No matter what happens, the force is with him. Even if everything he loves in this world disappears. But none of these thoughts slow his heart rate or steady his nerves on the journey.

When they are thrown out of hyperspace, Ossus looms before them, green and blue and bright. Luke steadies his breathing, and descends. 

“There aren’t any ships nearby,” Din says.  

Luke nods, then he realises Din can’t see him, but by that point, he’s waited too long to respond without it being awkward. Din seems to understand his silence. 

They don’t need to land to see what has happened. As Luke flies low over the lake, he can already make out the curls of black smoke in the distance. His ship slows, and Din overtakes slightly. 

“Do you want to land?” 

Wordlessly, Luke steers his ship, and circles the hill where he had mediated with Grogu, where the frogs were. It’s a smouldering mess. The temple is indiscernible — a bunch of rocks, splattered like blood across the clearing, and the droids are specs of twisted, melted white. 

“I…” he laughs shakily, “I don’t want to land, but I should probably check things out, right? See if there’s anything left.”

“Okay.”

Grogu seems confused when he hops down onto the ash-smeared grass. He looks up at Luke, who sighs. The destruction of the temple is strewn before them. The forest is silent. Many of the trees have been split by blaster fire, partially burnt. Fortunately, Ossus is a damp, marshy planet, and the fire hasn’t spread far. Grogu toddles away a little, head turning left and right. “Mu?” he says.

“The frogs will be back,” Luke says to him, gaze heavy. “But we won’t be, Grogu.”

Grogu tilts his head. “Mu?”

Luke smiles sadly. “Now that the planet has been discovered, I’ll have to go somewhere else.”

Din approaches him, a shiny object in his hand. The edges are blackened slightly, but the holocron is otherwise intact. Luke swallows tightly. “Oh… thanks,” he says. “Um, I didn’t think I’d see this again.” 

Din takes a breath as if to speak, but Luke beats him. “Hey, will you hold onto it? I can never focus when I’ve got it on me. I keep thinking I’m gonna drop it or something.” 

“What if I lose it?”

“That’s okay,” Luke says. He takes the holocron from Din, and the image appears, slightly frazzled. His father’s voice sends a jolt through him. “I just don’t want to keep it with me. I know that doesn’t make much sense… Just hang on to it for me, alright?” He closes the device, and Anakin disappears. Luke holds it out to Din, who takes it, albeit a little uncertainly. 

“What is it?” he asks, turning it in his hand. 

Luke walks towards the lake. “Ask me another time, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Your Armourer was right,” Luke says, after a while. They are standing by the lake; the surface of the water is slick with ash, and even here, with the breeze, the stench of smoke and burning droid is inescapable. Grogu pats the water with his hand, then looks at it, and wipes the ash onto his clothes. “This is our story, so long as the Empire remains. I get why it would make sense to hide and hope we survive until things get better, but I don’t think that’s right. We shouldn’t have to hide like this.” He meets Din’s gaze.

“I understand,” says Din. “I am sorry for your loss.” 

Luke sighs. “And I’m sorry for… not being a better Jedi and protecting the galaxy like I’m supposed to.” 

“You’re just one person,” Din says, then he goes quiet for a minute. He kicks some rocks into the water and watches Grogu trying to copy him with minimal success. After a while, he turns to Luke and says:

“How would you feel about retaking Mandalore?” 

—

“If you’re here to question me, I’m not interested.” 

Thrawn glares, red-eyed and cold from through the ray-shielded barrier of her prison cell door. He folds his arms to match Ahsoka, and his mouth twitches. “We will exchange information.” 

“Will we?” 

“I will tell you something I have discovered, and you will offer your… Jedi insight.”

“How about you let me out?” Ahsoka drawls. 

“No. Now listen,” says Thrawn. “A man you know, Saw Gerrera, was killed not long ago. I believe he had something to do with Bridger.”

“Well, you would know that, not me.” Ahsoka shrugs. “Unless you didn’t speak to each other in the unknown regions? Knowing Ezra, he must’ve talked a lot.” She smirks. “Did you remember everything he said, hoping it might help you find him?”

Thrawn ignores her attempt to get a rise out of him. Honestly, Ahsoka doesn’t really know what she’s doing. If Thrawn gets pissed off enough, maybe he’ll let her out? It’s worth a shot. 

“This man… I believe Bridger blamed him for the death of someone close to him.”

Ahsoka shakes her head. “Ezra blamed himself for what happened to Kanan. And you.” 

“Gerrera betrayed Bridger and his companions, leaving them for dead on Lothal.”

“Gerrera was extreme.” 

“Bridger loathed him for what he did. After taking out two of my ships with the destroyer charges he promised to use to destroy the military bases on the planet, he fled. Had those charges not been taken by Gerrera, if he hadn't given up on Lothal, Bridger believed his master would still be alive.”

“Why would Ezra kill Gerrera now?” 

“What is your opinion?” 

Ahsoka frowns. “That is not the Jedi way.” 

“Gerrera was killed by an electric weapon. His fingers and toes were missing and his eyes had been burnt out. We found him strung up outside—”

“That wasn’t Ezra,” Ahsoka says, louder than she means to. “He wouldn’t. Not like that. it must have been...” 

Thrawn looks at her for a long moment and a chill races across her skin. “You know something," he says. "You must tell me."

"Really?" Ahsoka crosses her arms. "I'm going to tell you what I know, just like you're telling me everything you know? I don't think so. Tell me the truth about why you're looking for Ezra, and I'll think about it."

Thrawn's gaze flickers towards the security camera at the end of the hallway.

Ahsoka laughs. So that's how it is. "I'll never betray Ezra to the Empire," she says.

Thrawn looks at her, then nods. 

Chapter Text

There’s nothing else for it, so Luke goes with Din to Mandalore. Neither of them know what to expect from the Mandalorian home planet, though there are plenty of stories. Some say the atmosphere is poisonous. Others say that dangerous beasts now roam the lands, and will snatch your ship straight out of the sky. Another rumour says the planet is cursed by those who died fighting for it. Luke isn’t sure which seems most like Empire propaganda. They’re all equally as improbable.

“Chances are,” he says to Din, “the planet’s fine. I bet there are some settlers, actually. An abandoned planet is a good hide-out for wanted criminals. I also doubt whatever remains of the Empire has the recourses to monitor the planet rotation-round.”

“How do we even begin retaking a planet?”

“I don’t know,” Luke laughs. “It was your idea. You certainly seemed to think it over for a pretty long while.” 

“I honestly… wasn’t thinking about the logistics.” 

What in the galaxy was he thinking about then? Luke shakes his head in amusement. 

“Well,” Din begins, “we can start by seeing whether or not we can… breathe in the atmosphere.” 

“Sounds like a plan!”

They fall out of hyperspace and Mandalore jumps into sight. It’s bluer than Luke had pictured in his mind, and clouds smother most of the surface in grey. The descent is unpleasant. Luke’s ship is jostled and thrashed by lightning from all directions. His computer cuts off briefly, and he fiddles with the controls until it sparks back to life. 

“You good?” Din’s voice comes across the radio. 

“Yeah…” Luke breathes out as they break through the storm. “You?” 

“Fine. Let’s land on that flat area there.” 

Luke takes his ship down, and lands beside the starfighter. He runs a calculation on the atmosphere. “Guess what.”

“Hm?”

“Totally breathable,” Luke says. “Well, it’s a little toxic… but it won’t kill us. You don’t have asthma or anything do you?” 

“My helmet can filter the air.” 

“Okay, but do you have asthma?” 

“I don’t know…?”

Luke tries to catch his gaze from his ship. Din is looking at him dumbly. How can a helmet look dumb? “We’re just gonna assume you don’t,” Luke says, eventually. “And Grogu seemed fine with pollen and grass. If he starts sneezing, we should get him a mask or go back to the ships.” 

“Okay.”

Mandalore is a barren expanse of rock and crystal. Supposedly, the crystal is something to do with the purge that happened, but Luke doesn’t really know. 

“I hate to break it to ya, but I don’t see any magic water,” Luke says, hands on his hips.

Din looks up at him. Luke has climbed a rocky slope for a better view, and can’t see anything except rocks. “The mines are probably underground,” he says.

“Well, that would make sense.” Luke jumps down the two-meter ridge. “Do you wanna go into that cave there?”

Din tears his gaze away from him and considers the cave for a moment. “Okay.”

Luke picks up Grogu and lets him clamber over his shoulder and into the backpack.

“Patu!” he says, tugging Luke’s hair.

“Okay little guy, watch the hair, please.” Luke cringes and tries to pry his fingers off. He heads towards the cave entrance. “Uh, we’re going in, right?” he gestures to the cave. Din is just… standing there. 

“Yeah,” he says, and follows.

The cave opens up a little, and Luke scales a small rockslide, stoops under a low ceiling, and suddenly, there it is. Mandalore. Or, what’s left of it.

Din stares out at the massive expanse of buildings, pathways, and rubble, all contained in this underground space. Luke can’t imagine the decimation that must have occurred for all of this to be so utterly destroyed, and buried underground, no less. Shafts of light penetrate through cracks in the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the ruins. 

“Wow,” Luke breathes. “This must’ve been amazing.”

“I never saw it,” Din says. “I grew up on the moon of Concordia. We were taught that these Mandalorians were weak and peace-loving, and that their failure to adhere to the ways of the Manda’lor was what led to their destruction.”

“Do you believe that?” Luke asks. 

“I’m… not sure what to believe, anymore. The history of my people is…”  

“I’ve found that history often differs, depending on what side you’re on,” Luke says.  

“That is true.” 

Luke stands closer to the ledge, peering into the darkness below. “Do we go deeper?”

“Let’s go.”

Din, conveniently, has a jetpack. He offers to carry Luke down, but Luke shakes his head, hands him Grogu as he hovers in mid-air above the chasm, and begins the climb.

“Are you sure you want to climb the whole way?” Din asks from a ledge. They’ve made it a few dozen metres, and the light is getting dimmer and dimmer.

“Sure, climbing is fun.” Luke breathes evenly, knuckles flexing as he grips the rocky wall. There are plenty of footholds, what with this place having been blown up and destroyed so thoroughly. Luke catches sight of another platform — a metal beam poking out of the rubble, and makes the leap.

“Dank ferrik!”

Luke balances on one leg, arms out for support. He catches Din’s gaze. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry. I uh, was gonna jump?” 

“You could’ve warned me.”

Grogu beams from his arms. “Eh!”

“How did you… are those Jedi powers?”

“Sort of,” Luke says. He tests the strength of the ledge before climbing down, swinging from his arms. “Because the force flows through all things…” he tries to explain, but to someone not force sensitive… How do you even begin to explain the force without simply… feeling it? “The force is movement, and in my movement, I can reach for it.”

“It’s like a rope?” 

Luke chuckles. “Not really, no. But in some ways, I guess.” 

They reach solid ground after another few minutes. Din meets him on the ground, Grogu held tightly in his arms despite the child’s squirming to be let down. Din switches on a light in his helmet and, since the cave keeps going down, they do too.

It’s not long until Luke can sense Grogu’s fear brushing him through the force like a static charge. Because he is still so young, his thoughts are difficult to make out. Luke catches flashes of images — pieces of a story — like a nightmare you can’t quite remember after you wake up. There’s Din, and then no Din. Grogu, and then Grogu is lost in darkness, and doesn’t know what happened or what’s going to happen. Luke reaches for him. It’s okay. He tries. Don’t be afraid.

But Grogu has every right to be afraid. Luke tears his eyes away from the pair, and he falls back a couple of steps. He lost everything once, and the Mandalorian is so important to him. How can he explain to Grogu that their bond could make him vulnerable to the dark path? 

“I know it’s dark,” Din says quietly, cutting Luke from his thoughts. “But we got this, okay?”

“Din,” Luke says abruptly. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Though Luke will be able to sense his feelings either way.

“Go ahead.”

Luke opens his mouth. “Do you regret taking off your helmet?”

Din turns his head a little, so that the torchlight bounces off the cave wall, the beam crossing in front of Luke. He senses Din looking at him at the edge of his visor. “I haven’t thought about it,” he says.

Luke frowns. “Not at all?” 

Din hesitates. “Not about… regretting it. It was strange… realising that what I had done was wrong, when I felt that our creed should have valued the bond that Grogu and I share. I was taught that Mandalorians value close bonds. In my covert, we treated one another like family, we called each other by familiar terms, like νσ∂ and α∂є, when we were foundlings. The Armourer…” Din hesitates. “I remember once, I was hurt during training because I had been distracted. That night they did not feed me. I remember trying to seek her out, when I found her at the forge and reached for her, she brushed me away and told me… if I did not become a strong warrior, I would be ∂αя’α∂є.” 

“What does that mean?” Luke whispers. 

“It means, no longer their child. They would abandon me.”

And suddenly, a lot of things make sense. Luke stares at him. It’s too dark for Din to make out his face, but Luke knows that if he could, he would probably close off again. “That’s—”

“Thinking back on it,” Din continues. “I wouldn’t want to raise a child that way.” 

No, Luke thinks. A little boy with no one left in the world, other than some scary, armoured people who took him in, told that if he didn’t conform, didn’t meet their standards, they would not love him. If they ever really did in the first place.

“Din Djarin is a powerful warrior, one of, if not the best in our clan. He was greatly respected.” Luke’s chest tightens. Respected, until he loved too much for it to pass off as part of any creed or religion. Too much to be controlled. 

“Din…” Luke starts, “you know you’re part of a cult, right?” 

“I know,” he says. “Bo-Katan was vocal in her criticism of our ways.” 

“But I think the Armourer does care about you. The way she spoke of you to me… She fears you will get hurt training with the darksaber.” 

“¢уαяє’ѕє ℓιѕєя є¢нσуℓιя,” Din says, almost as if to himself. “But I don’t know if… It doesn’t matter,” he cuts off suddenly. “I need them. They are my αℓιιт.”

“I understand,” Luke says. He glances at Din out of the corner of his eye, but the Mandalorian is focused on picking a way through the tunnels. They come to a wider area, where a smaller tunnel branches off. Din picks up something from the ground. A Mandalorian helmet, rusty with age or… from whatever killed its owner.

“Mandalore’s warriors were banished to Concordia after the peaceful Mandalorians won the civil war.” Din brushes dust from the helmet. “But it does not seem as though they went without a fight.”

“I sense the truth is more complicated than it seems.” Luke’s fingertips brush the empty visor lines of the helmet. “This planet harbours an unusually strong connection to the force, for it being so anti-Jedi.”  

“Why does the force go to certain places?” Din asks. 

“I don’t know. Sometimes it’s because there’s a message there, but other times, the Force leaves an imprint simply because of the events that transpired.” 

“What things leave imprints?”

“Often, pain,” Luke sighs. “Suffering, hatred. These emotions linger and latch on to force sensitive individuals. I’ve had my fair share of experiences with ancient temples. The lingering hatred there could turn you to the dark side.” 

“The dark side?”

Luke nods. “A force wielder who is selfish, manipulative, cruel, and gains their strength from their emotions. Jedi strive to be the opposite of this.” 

“But you have emotions.”

Luke takes a deep breath. “It’s… difficult. I sense that I am supposed to search for my own path, but I don’t know where to start when so much of our history is lost.” 

The smaller tunnel winds further down, deeper into the centre of the planet. There’s the slightest movement in the air, vibration, and Luke recognises the energy of life forces and stops walking suddenly. “There are… people down here,” he says.

Din casts him a dubious helmet tilt, and they continue until it is unmistakable. Voices echo through the tunnels, many, it seems, perhaps a covert worth.

“Do you wanna go say hello?” Luke asks.

“Perhaps they can help us find the living waters.” 

The tunnel breaks off into several other small passageways. This close, Luke can pick out the soft glow of light, and he gestures for Din to switch his torch off. When he does, they are plunged into darkness, but gradually, Luke’s eyes adjust to the light, and he leads Din by the arm towards the light and the voices.

The voices hush suddenly. Luke pauses, he wonders if they should stop, go back, maybe confront these people somewhere they have more of an advantage. But Din steps past him, leaving Grogu in Luke’s arms. 

Grogu stares at him. Luke touches his forehead. It will be alright, he says.

“тισи’¢υу?”

“иι αℓιιт мαи∂σ.”

“иυ тισи’αℓιιт ѕσℓυѕ?”

“иαу¢… αѕн’α∂.”

“к’σℓαя.”

Din steps into the room. Luke follows after him. Inside the large cave, is a group of Mandalorians. One of them stands abruptly, blaster raised. “тισи’ѕσℓєт?” he barks. 

“єни,” Din responds. 

“тισи’ναιι?” 

Din reaches for Grogu, and takes him into his arms. “иєя ιк’αα∂. иι куя'тαуℓ gαι ѕα’α∂,” he says.

The Mandalorian stares at them for a moment, then sighs raggedly, and sinks back onto the rock. The others in his group relax, but keep their eyes fixed on the newcomers. Their armour is in a state of disrepair, some of it clearly salvaged from the ruins. Some wear their helmets while others do not. The faces that Luke can see are pale and gaunt, as though they haven’t seen the sunlight in a long time and their torn clothes hang off their body in a way that makes Luke think of skeletons. 

“Do you speak basic?” Din asks. 

“We haven’t,” the Mandalorian says harshly, “since a long time.” His eyes are dark, hooded, his hair matted and entirely grey.

“We are looking for the living waters,” Din explains. “Do you know how to get there?”

The grey-haired Mandalorian rasps out a laugh. “σуα'ℓα ριяυи. I can take you to that place,” he says. “You have come for it?”

“My creed dictates that I must bathe in the living waters to be redeemed.”

“You broke your creed? What did you do?”

“I removed my helmet in front of others.” 

“Ahh… υяαктσ. Your creed, it is strict. You are a Child of The Watch?”

“I am,” Din says. “What clan are you affiliated with?”

“куяαу¢,” he spits. “The dead.” 

“Did you… survive the great purge?”

At this, there is silence.

“Ah, that is… a way of saying it. Kymir, come with us.” A young boy slips off one of the rocks and hurries to his side. 

“єℓєк, вα’вυιя,” he says. His voice is rough, like the others, and his face is tired looking, nicked with scars and bruises. He puts his helmet on.

“He is your grandchild?” Din asks.

“Yes. My вυι’тѕα∂. It is good to keep him moving, or he becomes restless and tries to go above ground.” The Mandalorian places his hand heavily on the boy’s crooked helmet. “This υтяєєкσν.”

“What’s wrong with above ground?” Luke asks. 

The Mandalorian looks at him for the first time, as if he’d forgotten he was there. His gaze is cold, and his face wrinkles unpleasantly. “Other survivors,” he says. “Clan ѕσℓυѕ. And people like you, who think you can say things about us and our way of life.”

“Others have visited?” 

“Few,” he says. “Come, let us go to the σуα'ℓα ριяυи.”

They journey through a different set of tunnels, little Kymir leading the way. His grandfather brings up the rear, and trapped between them, Luke feels only more claustrophobic. 

Eventually, they come out into a more open area, where light reaches from above ground. The grandfather leads them to a cracked door. “σуα'ℓα ριяυи,” he says, and steps over the rubble, through the gap.

“gαиαя’υℓу¢,” Kymir says, dipping his helmet so as not to meet their eyes.

Luke catches Din’s eyes through his visor. He can’t help but feel that something isn’t right here. Why have these Mandalorians remained here? How have they survived? 

“He told us to watch our step,” Din whispers. “I don’t think he speaks basic. Has he ever been outside?” 

Luke keeps his head close to Din's so as not to be overheard. “Something feels off,” he says.

“They are related by blood.”

“Is that strange?” Luke helps him over some rocks. 

“Our culture does not place significance on вυι’тѕα∂.”

“Perhaps their culture is different.”

“Perhaps.”

Once they have crossed the small mountain of rubble, they come out at a flat platform. A high ceiling stretches into the shadows, and lanterns illuminate the space. Before them, a lake of water sits almost still in the darkness, faint light bouncing off little ripples on the surface. 

“This is it,” says the grandfather from the water’s edge. He turns to Kymir. “You can atone with him, ∂ι’кυтℓα’α∂.”

Din stiffens. Luke eyes him questioningly, but he passes Grogu wordlessly to him and approaches the grandfather. 

“What did he do?” Din asks in a strange voice. 

“This α∂ atones for his вυιя’є.”

“Why should a child atone for his parents’?”

“Because they too betrayed Mandalore. All of us did, and all of us shall atone. Just because they are no longer alive does not mean they are forgiven.” 

“If he is a child then he is innocent,” Din says.

“Ah, you are not like the Death Watch I remember.” The grandfather shakes his head. “Have they changed so much? But never mind. You are here, at the σуα'ℓα ριяυи. Atone, and be on your way.” 

Din makes a fist. “gαя тαℓ∂ιи иι נασиу¢; gαя ѕα вυιя, σяι’ωα∂ααѕ’ℓα,” he says.

“I have not gotten involved in your way, and neither shall you in ours.” 

The atmosphere is tense now. The grandfather’s eyes are as cold as bescar steel, and he remains unflinching, even as Din looms over his stooped form.

A shrill scream breaks the silence. There’s a splash, and, to Luke’s horror, the child has vanished beneath the water. 

“иαу∂υѕн… That is what happens when one fails to atone—”

With a flash of bescar, and blinding rage through the force, Din kicks the grandfather in the chest. He cries out, panicked, and falls backwards into the water, vanishing in the dark swirl.

Din glances back at him. “I’m going in to rescue the child,” he says, before plunging in as well.

Luke’s mouth hangs open, aghast. Did Din just… kill a man? Luke thinks he probably did. He waits a few moments, but no movement signals the grandfather swimming back to the surface. Luke hastily comes to the water’s edge, peering down, but he can’t make out anything. Grogu is restless in his arms.

Suddenly, the cave tremors. Luke catches his footing and takes a step back. The walls are vibrating slightly, and an immense rumble, like an earthquake has taken place right in the cave, makes the ground shake and the water surge. A large wave rolls towards them, and Luke jumps onto a ledge for safety as it washes over the platform, followed by several others of equal magnitude.

“Mu?” Grogu whimpers.

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Luke raises his voice over the racket. Rocks plummet from the cave ceiling and Luke shields himself and Grogu with his prosthetic arm from little stones as they pelt down on them. “Do you see him anywhere?” 

Din emerges with a streak of light, his jetpack hisses against the strain of carrying himself laden with water and the child in his arms as well. But now that he’s out, the swell only gets bigger. 

Luke thinks his eyes are deceiving him, but, no. It’s real. A monstrous, scaly creature rises out of the black, waterfalls gushing down the rivets between its metallic scales. Two huge tusks, spanning the width of the entire cavern, and eyes as black as the darksaber blink open. 

“Din, what is that?” Luke screams.

“I think it’s a mythosaur!” 

“What the force is a mythosaur?”

Din lands beside him. “Take this,” he says, and dumps Kymir in his arms. 

Luke fumbles with the two younglings in his arms. “Stop… dumping your kids on me!” 

Din flies up again. The waves gradually subside, and he hovers in the air at the edge of the water. The air comes alive with a low rumble from the mythosaur. 

“We mean you no harm,” Din calls out across the cave. “иι ¢єтα, נασи’у¢’α∂.”

The presence of the beast is like a song in the force. Luke reaches for it and brushes its edges with his mind. The mythosaur’s presence is charged, like an array of notes following incoherently one after the other, in a way that Luke isn’t sure what will come next. The mythosaur rumbles again, intones of metal ringing through the sound. 

A heavy shift in the force signifies its gaze turning to Luke. He blinks back at the beast, which does nothing but gaze at them, somehow both intense and calm. It breathes softly, a cloud of bright mist drifting across the water. As quickly as it appeared, the mythosaur sinks down again. Luke clutches Grogu and Kymir tightly, and watches Din touch the ground again.

Din almost reaches Luke before the mist settles around him. Everything goes quiet. Luke can see nothing but white, blinding white, and his arms tell him that the two children are gone though he can’t understand how.

“Come home to me safe, alright?”

“Alright.” 

The vision is nothing but sound, and then pain. It’s a pain so intense that the haze breaks immediately, and Luke comes to, gasping and shaking.

“Are you okay?”

“D-did you…” Luke’s voice trembles. “I had a vision,” he says. "Din, I had a vision and there was so much pain…” 

“We’re safe,” Din says, and his arm stays around Luke’s shoulders. “The mythosaur has returned to its lair, and the child is breathing again.”

Luke’s heart races. “Okay,” he breathes. “Hey, that’s good. Should we… take him back to his covert?”

“No,” says Din.

“Then he’s coming with us.” Luke wipes a trickle of cold sweat from his brow. “A-are you—”

“Stay still.” Din lowers himself to sit beside Luke, and lets him lean against his side. “That vision has affected you. And… what we saw earlier today…”

“I’m fine,” Luke says. “Ossus…” he sighs. “It’s a shame, alright? But there’s nothing I can do about it now. We gotta keep going. You can’t fight an enemy like the Empire without suffering great losses.”

Din is quiet for a moment. His chest rises and falls, and he’s warm, despite his clothes having been drenched in the waters. Luke tries to get his own hectic breathing to match his.

“In your vision, you saw pain… What if it is as the armourer foresaw? What if I fail to master the darksaber, and it ends badly for both of us?”

Luke shakes his head. “I told you I had to find my path,” he says. “I think this is it. This… the darksaber, Grogu, taking back Mandalore…” He turns to the side, where Din’s helmet is very, very close. “You.”

Din touches the side of his forehead to Luke’s. It seems absentminded, the gesture, and he tenses so quickly afterwards. Din gets to his feet. He holds a hand out for Luke to take, and helps him up.

“I’ll carry the kids this time,” he says.

Chapter Text

For two nights, Mayan has hidden in the basement of a destroyed house. By the second morning, she has had enough of being cramped underground on a mat of moth-eaten blankets, and tells R2 that it’s time to go.

".-- .... . .-. . ....... - ---?" R2 asks. He’s green, currently. Mayan had to make do with the paint she could find, and it’s a really terrible job — patchy and globy.  

Mayan has gotten better at interpreting binary speech, but she’s not quite there yet. It takes her a moment to figure out what the little beeps mean as she stuffs some out-of-date rations into a makeshift pack. “Um… we’re going to rescue Ahsoka.”

R2 spins excitedly. Then he stops and says, “.... --- .--?"

“I don’t know how.” Mayan ties her boots. “By now, the blue man will think we’ve gone, so we can surprise him, right?” 

R2 whistles uncertainly. 

“Well… there’s no other choice.” Mayan grips the lightsaber in her hand. “You said Luke can’t come… so…”

R2 bumps into her as she walks towards the ladder.

“Ow, that was my toe.” Mayan groans. “What is it?” 

“-.. .- -. --. . .-. --- ..- …!”

“I know it’s dangerous. You didn’t want Luke to come because he’s an important Jedi, right?” Mayan squeezes past him. “If the blue man finds him it’d be bad, so it’s better if I rescue her.”

R2 whistles a sad note again.

Mayan clambers up the ladder one-armed, her other arm tucked into a sling under her cloak. It’s completely useless. She doesn’t know how bad the break was, but since it happened, the skin has gone from red to purple — the edges faintly green. If she tries to use it, a sharp pain stabs through her. 

The town is quiet this early; even the fruit vendors haven’t opened their stalls yet. Mayan sneaks around the side of the blown-up house, pulling her cloak over her feathered hair. She gestures for R2 to follow. She thinks if she can get to the mountain again, she can… well, she doesn’t really know. Mayan has always been good at getting out of dangerous situations, not getting into them. Maybe R2 can come up with a plan.

“This is hopeless,” Mayan decides. They sit within viewing distance of the tall mountain base, hidden in a valley of rocks. 

“--. --- ....... -... .- -.-. -.-?” R2 suggests.

Mayan rubs the wrinkly skin of her fingers. “I don’t want to give up, but I don’t know how to get in, or where she is. I’ve never even seen a prison before.” She pulls her knees up to her chest. “I don’t know why Ahsoka even believes in me at all.” 

“... -.- -.-- ....... .. ... ....... .- -- .- --.. .. -. —.!”

Mayan smiles a little. 'Sky is amazing,' R2 said. It’s nice that he’s given her a nickname after she said she wanted one. 

Even R2 thinks she can do something about this. Surely she has to try? Even if she does get captured, they’re no worse off, really. Luke will probably come eventually, and it just means he’ll have to rescue two people instead of one. No big deal for a Jedi master, right?

“Okay, R2.” Mayan’s feathers perk up, and her eyes are drawn to a path in the mountainside. “Let’s go that way! Maybe there’s another way to get into the mountain.” 

They find themselves at a cave entrance. Mayan looks at it carefully for a moment. “How did I know this was here?” she puzzles.

“- .... . ....... ..-. --- .-. -.-. .!”

“Well… if the force took me here, it must be the right place to go.”

Mayan stoops down a little and navigates her way into the darkness with her good hand against the wall. She stops for a moment to breathe. In the darkness, she’s completely blind. She can almost feel it reaching out, curling through the air, an evil intent, wrapping its hands around her —

R2 beeps and switches his torch on. The cave is illuminated, and the rocks are brown, almost gold. 

Suddenly it isn’t so scary anymore. 

“Thanks, R2,” Mayan says.

R2 whistles happily. 

They make it a little further before they come to a place where the path diverges, two tunnels breaking off in different directions. Mayan pauses for a moment to think.

You tug her towards the right path.

“That way,” she tells R2, who goes ahead to light the way. Some dust falls from the cave roof, and Mayan brushes it out of her feathers. Before she can say anything to R2, the dust comes faster, completely cutting her vision off, and before she even realises what has happened, the cave roof has collapsed between them.

“R2!” Mayan calls out. She can hear the faintest beeping from the other side of the dislodged dirt. Mayan tries to shift it, but some boulders are lodged in as well, making it impossible to move with only one hand. “Hang on, okay? I’ll go the other way,” Mayan yells.

She realises when she turns around that it’s pitch black all around her. Her heart races. Why didn’t she get a torch from R2? Without him, she’s completely lost. And hadn’t the force told her to go that way? Why did the cave roof collapse? 

This was all a mistake. Mayan sinks to her knees. She can’t get to Ahsoka through this stupid cave. What was she even thinking? Now R2 is missing as well.

She debates trying to shift the dirt again. It might take hours, but at least she knows R2 is on the other side. Mayan doesn’t have a clue what’s in the other direction.

Mayan thinks back on her time with Ahsoka. Has her master taught her anything about being trapped alone in dark caves? She remembers the time on the stairs up to the tower when they first found the blue man and everything went wrong. 

“Just keep your feet moving; you don’t need to see to know which way to go.”

Mayan frowns. The words wash over her like a stream of clear mountain water. 

“I— I’ll train hard. I promise. I can do it.”

She said she would train hard. She promised Ahsoka that she could do this, that she could become a Jedi. Being a Jedi with Ahsoka is Mayan’s home. Without that… where will she go? 

Because Mayan has something that she fears more than the darkness of the cave, she gets to her feet, and moves. She feels along the rough walls until she comes back to the place where the two tunnels split off.

There is only one way left to go, so Mayan follows the second tunnel deeper into the caves. She tries calling out for R2, but after a while, she gives up and accepts that she’s only getting further and further away from her friend. 

The tunnel winds deeper and deeper. At least, it feels like she’s going deeper, going further and further into the darkness and, force, she’s probably getting more lost too. How does she know she didn’t go down another tunnel by accident? Which way is back?

Why would the force make her leave R2 behind? 

Mayan feels something brush against her arm feathers. Smooth, and quick, like a gentle breeze. She gasps, and her eyes snap open. She didn’t even realise she had them squeezed shut. Two, glowing white eyes peer right back at her. 

Mayan yelps and scrambles backwards. There’s something living in here! Is it angry that she came into its cave? Will it attack her? 

The creature stays completely still, fixing her with an unblinking, unwavering gaze.

She turns on her lightsaber. 

Oh wait, she can see now. Why didn’t she think of that before? The creature stalks away, head still locked onto her. She can make out its shimmering white body. It’s furless. (Mayan squints her eyes.) Perhaps scaled? Is it some kind of lizard?

The white lizard snaps its tail, and Mayan has the urge to follow it. 

Maybe it knows the way out?

“Hello?” Mayan tries. “Will you help me find my friends?” 

The lizard hisses softly and vanishes around a corner. Mayan hurries to follow it. 

She finds herself in a large space. The lizard has vanished, but strangely, there’s light here. It moves around the room, shifting as though it has a form and intent. 

And on the wall, are pictures.

Mayan isn’t sure she’s seeing it right. Then she moves closer, and holds Ahsoka’s lightsaber to one of the cave walls. It depicts… figures, in a strange, circular art style. There’s something star-like about them. The individuals look like falling stars, descending from the sky. Further along, another figure holds out its hands towards a planet.

Mayan gasps. 

It’s true.

They are world breakers.  

She peers closer. The lines used to draw the planet are sharp and dangerous. When the planet breaks, light escapes from under its dark shell.

There is another drawing of the same, but this time, darkness escapes from a light planet. 

A figure dies when it breaks a dark planet and darkness emerges.

Another figure dies when it breaks a light planet and light emerges. 

One figure ignores its planet and instead tries to help the dying figure. Both figures then die. 

Mayan wonders if these figures are Jedi. But the figures do not seem overly good or evil; the ones destroying the light planets and bringing darkness must be Sith. 

Surrounding the picture, there is a border of swirling light and dark. The force, Mayan thinks. And this place with the planets… this must be the galaxy.

The force… is trying to balance itself. Through living things.

Mayan’s whole body shivers. Who drew these paintings? They learned this. Somehow, they understood something greater than the galaxy — something about the nature of the entire universe. 

If Mayan didn’t worship the force before, she does now. 

The galaxy only exists because of the force. Because the force, somehow, became unstable in this small patch of the universe. 

The galaxy is an anomaly, where the force gathers in an imbalance in certain places, in certain people. 

And these people destroy each other, and destroy places, and the energy dissipates into new people and places, or returns to the force. 

The smallest amount of light can penetrate dark, and the smallest amount of darkness can penetrate the light. It just draws on the surrounding force of the universe. 

It is balance. 

Perfect, complete balance. 

“Why have you shown me this…” Mayan whispers. She can sense the lizard lurking in the darkness, unseen. “I’m not a powerful Jedi. I haven’t mastered the force enough to…” 

Enough to alter the very fabric of the galaxy.

The lizard hisses and vanishes fully. In its place, is a strange, glowing white crystal. 

Mayan picks up the crystal. It’s the same white as Ahsoka’s lightsaber. There’s energy in it, thrumming through her fingers.

She knows, instinctively, that this crystal is hers. 

It was always meant for her.

And this cave was always meant for her to find.

She thought the figures falling from the sky were wearing strange cloaks, but now she realises that they are feathers.

But right now, she has to find R2. Mayan pockets the crystal, and leaves the strange cave. Guided by the light from Ahsoka’s saber, Mayan follows the tunnels as they loop back around.

“R2!” she cries. 

R2’s (still horrific) green paint shines back at her. He beeps in joy and zooms over to her.

Mayan puts her good arm around his top. “Wow, I’m so glad I found you! found something amazing. Do you think you can record it?”

“... ..- .-. .!” R2 bleeps. 

“I know Ahsoka’s going to escape,” Mayan says.

“.... --- .--?” R2 asks.

“Because she’s a really amazing Jedi. Ahsoka believes in me, so I’m going to believe in her.” Mayan smiles.

—

“How will you escape?” asks a soft voice. 

Ahsoka sighs. “I don’t know, Maul,” she says. “Thrawn isn’t going to make this easy.”

“Why not just tell him Ezra is on Dathomir?” 

Ahsoka opens her eyes. Maul blinks back at her. He’s taken to sitting a little closer to her, which she isn’t sure what to make of. And he hasn’t tried to decapitate her with his lightsaber every time she appears in this place. However…

“You know, maybe if you hadn’t tried to turn Ezra to the dark side, none of this would have happened.” 

Maul’s face twists into an almost snarl. “And if I wasn’t here, you would never even know he was back in the first place. Or where he is.” 

Ahsoka crosses her arms. “I guess that means we aren’t any worse off.”

“It’s not Jedi-like to fixate on the past.”

“I told you I’m not a Jedi.”

“Then so what if Ezra isn’t either?” Maul leans on the palm of his hand. “So what if he’s a little bit… Sith?”

“Maul, did you honestly like being a Sith?”

That shuts Maul up for a second. “What do you mean? How am I supposed to answer that?”

“You were pretty happy to hurt others to get what you wanted, but was it really what you wanted?”

“Ah, I see what you’re doing.” Maul’s eyes flash. “You would like to be comforted by the idea that I am not responsible for my actions. That it was all Sideous. Is that how you cope with the actions of your former master?” 

“I told you not to go there, Maul,” Ahsoka snaps. “You don’t know anything about—”

“I do,” Maul interjects. “Of course I know what it is to be corrupted by darkness. I know what it is to…” he trails off. “Kenobi was right, after all. What was it he said… that I had nothing. That I was nothing.”

“You caused a lot of hurt for being nothing,” Ahsoka says, dryly.

“Mm, perhaps. But what was I if not a shadow of my master’s hatred? Of the hatred of the Sith?”

“You would not have become a Sith had Sideous not taken you as his apprentice.” 

Maul laughs quietly. “Yes, and you would not have become a Jedi had you not joined the Order,” he says, sarcastically. “We are all bound by our natures. My nature is Sith, your nature is Jedi — whether you chose to associate with the Order or not.” 

“But I don’t understand.” 

Maul squints. “What is there to understand?”

“Why did you hate things you were taught to hate?” 

“Because… Sith crave hatred. It made me strong. The more I hated, the stronger I became. It’s why, now… I am nothing, and at the end, I was nothing.”

“Sith bend the force to their will, while Jedi follow the will of the force.” 

“That is an interesting concept.” 

“I think it’s right,” Ahsoka says. “Why else would evil accumulate in objects like the deathsaber? The force must have been bent by somebody’s strong emotions.”

“But whose hatred?” Maul's patterned face morphs into a frown. “And how does any of this explain why the force brought us together like this?”

“Perhaps it’s my fault,” Ahsoka says. “I’m technically… they reincarnate of the light side of the force.” 

“What?”

“I died once, and a force god brought me back to life by giving me her life force. I died another time as well, in an alternate timeline.” 

“Are you serious?” Maul hisses. “Do you even realise the consequences of such a thing?”

Ahsoka rubs the back of her lekku. “Well… the father did try to warn us…”

“You’ve done it. You’ve completely messed up the force. Well, it's no wonder all of these nonsensical things have happened. Good job.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Maul rubs his eyes. “I need time to ponder this.” 

“Great, ponder away!” Ahsoka sighs. “I’ll just figure out how to escape from Thrawn.”

“You do that.” 

“Bye, Maul.” 

—

Thrawn is on the other side of the ray shield again. 

“What? Do you think I’ll tell you where Ezra is if you let me go? No chance.” 

Thrawn’s lips press into a thin line. “Very well, Jedi Tano. I hope you have an elaborate rescue planned if you wish to escape and pursue Bridger yourself.”

“Absolutely.” Ahsoka smirks.

Thrawn blinks, eyebrows twisting together.

There it is. The presence she sensed. As if on cue, the alarms in the base go off all at once, blaring red. 

“What’s going on?” Thrawn asks. “Did you do this?” 

Ahsoka shrugs. “Nope. I’m as curious as you are.” 

A stormtrooper rushes to Thrawn’s side. “Grand Admiral, Sir!” he yells. “It’s the falcon!” 

Thrawn stares at Ahsoka. Ahsoka… has no idea what a falcon is. But presumably, this is a good thing for her, judging by the growing disbelief in Thrawn’s expression.

Then, the power shuts out. Before Ahsoka can move there is a crash from outside, the emergency lights blink on, and the stormtrooper is on the ground out cold.

Ahsoka stares. "How did you...?"

"Infrared," Thrawn says. "Please tell me where Ezra is." He looks desperate, his forehead creased. Again, Ahsoka doesn't fully understand, and again, she doesn't need to.

Thrawn cares about Ezra. She feels it - a warm feeling that twists inside and sometimes bites. Because fear and attachment go hand in hand.

“Dathomir," Ahsoka says. "What do you need me to do?"

"Go to him. Help him. He will explain everything."

Ahsoka considers yelling at him to explain as he vanishes around the corner, but then she has other priorities. Ahsoka doesn’t know what the Falcon is — only that it had something to do with the rebellion. They possibly don’t even know who she is, or that she’s here, and merely came to flush out the imperial remnants from Lothal. 

Ahsoka glances quickly in both directions and hurries down the corridor in the opposite direction Thrawn went. Hopefully, there’s a landing platform there. She thinks they brought her that way when she was taken down from the rooftop (she was blindfolded, but despite Thrawn’s vast knowledge of the galaxy, he’s not as wise about Jedi as Ahsoka thought he would be — because really, a blindfold isn’t going to do much). 

She thinks Thrawn has taken her lightsaber. Typical. She hopes he enjoys studying it, or using it in an art project, or whatever. 

Another problem to add to Ahsoka’s growing list of problems. 

Somehow, this is all Maul’s fault. 

Without her lightsaber, Ahsoka has only one way up. With the force, she breaks open the lift shaft, and it’s just her luck that the lift is up instead of down. Ahsoka takes a deep breath, and focuses. The screeching noise is nearly unbearable. Sparks fly as Ahsoka continues to drag the lift down, metal creaking, cords snapping, and eventually, there’s a gap bit enough for Ahsoka to crawl onto the roof and access the shaft. 

And now, it’s time to climb. The light from the outside is like a hand outstretched for her at the top. With one final swing, Ahsoka somersaults out of the shaft, and lands ready to face whatever is left of the imperial remnants on the landing pad.

“Ahsoka Tano?” 

Ahsoka is lost. Stunned by familiar golden brown eyes. 

“You must be the Jedi Luke told me was in trouble,” the woman says. 

“Senator Organa… you’re…”

“I’m Leia. I’m Luke’s sister,” says Leia, with a curt smile. “We need to go. Han, get her inside!” 

“Sure thing, princess.” A scruffy-haired man rolls his eyes. He points a blaster at a group of stormtroopers in the midst of evacuating onto a shuttle, who fire on him as they make their escape. “Just a little busy right now!” 

“Isn’t R2 supposed to be with you?” Leia questions. Her eyebrows quirk in exactly the way Anakin’s did.

Ahsoka gets a hold of herself. “Yes… he’s with my padawan. We can signal him from your ship.” 

“I’m afraid Grand Admiral Thrawn got away. Gosh, you’d think we’d have a chance at capturing him with the Empire in the state that it’s in.”

“Thrawn is particularly crafty,” Ahsoka says. The way she just spoke was… very Luke-like. But who did they get their sass from?

A wookie howls from the ship ramp. Ahsoka squints. Hold on, she knows that wookie…

“Chewbacca?” Ahsoka exclaims. 

Chewbacca howls and waves. 

“Chewy, you know her?” Han yells, blasting another trooper before he can board the shuttle. “Alright lady, get inside,” he says.

Lady? Ahsoka’s eyes widen and she almost forgets to board the ship. This man is… close to Leia. What would Anakin make of him? He seems…

Han’s blaster jams. He whacks it against the side of a crate, then gives up, yells, and throws it to knock out a stormtrooper. 

Well. Maybe Anakin was a little wild, too. 

-

Link to fanart by EzraTheOptimist:

Mayan

Chapter Text

It’s late at night when they arrive on the planet of Kalevala, and Kymir is asleep in the co-pilot seat of Luke’s ship. 

He didn’t need much convincing to leave Mandalore. When Din explained what had happened in the cave, the boy’s eyes grew wide, and he seemed suddenly incapable of uttering a word. When he did speak, finally, it was just to say, “єℓєк” — yes. He would go with them. His eyes even begged them to take him.

Kymir clung to Din’s arm the entire way out of the cave. Then, and Luke didn’t even know how to react to this, he hid under his cloak when they emerged into the light. As if he had never even been above ground before.

Luke wishes he’d been the one to kick his вα’вυιя into the living waters. 

“тισи’ναιι ιвι¢?” the boy asks, as Luke helps him out of the ship. He has perked up somewhat, but the day has clearly exhausted him. Luke will never forget the way his eyes lit up when he gave him a ration bar.

“Sorry… I don’t speak Mandalorian,” Luke says.

“It’s called Mando’a.” Din approaches with Grogu in his arms, and Luke smiles at him. “The language.”

They landed a little ways from the castle Bo-Katan is supposedly at with her group, the Nite Owls. Din doesn’t know if his covert were able to settle here or if they were driven away. 

“тιαи’gαя נαнααℓα?” Din asks Kymir. “That means, how are you. Or, are you well,” he tells Luke.

“нαяу¢…” Kymir replies, glancing between Din and Luke. He covers his mouth and coughs weakly. 

“He’s tired,” Din says. “Let’s hope Bo-Katan will let us stay. We don’t have enough supplies, or a big enough ship to sleep four of us.” He sighs. “Dank ferrik, I wish I still had the razor crest…” 

“Would we all have fit in there?”

“It would’ve been a squeeze,” Din says. 

Luke gathers his things and lets Kymir clamber onto his back. Kymir leaves his helmet off, probably more comfortable under the night sky, and holds it at the side as Luke follows the path up to the castle. “I’ll put in a word with Leia. I hope she got to Ahsoka alright… it’s hard for her to go out and do stuff with all the New Republic protocol for everything.” 

“That sounds… annoying.” 

“Yeah, I hardly get to see her. Or call her,” Luke says. “Or at least, I did. I don’t know what things will be like now. Maybe I’ll see her more often.” 

The castle comes into view properly now. It’s black, even against the outline of the night, and spears upwards. Faint light emits from the windows like candles in the distance. 

They are greeted in the typical Mandalorian fashion. Blasters pointed in their faces.

“Can I speak with Bo-Katan?” Din asks the Mandalorian who confronts them at the castle entranceway. “I have a foundling who is in bad shape.” 

“You also have a Jedi,” one of them snarls from behind Luke. The back of his neck prickles with the weight of his murderous intent. 

“The Jedi is with me. He is trustworthy, and promises not to get involved in our affairs.” 

“Jedi do nothing but meddle where they aren’t welcome.” 

Another two Mandalorians appear from the shadows and encircle them. Luke glances around quickly, trying to assess if there’s an escape, but he can’t see a way out without fighting, and with Kymir on his back… Plus, he can’t risk Din facing the consequences of him provoking anyone.

The Mandalorian blocking the entranceway speaks. “You brought your нυт’υυи covert here. Who gave you the right to settle on our territory?”

“My people are not cowards,” Din responds. “We were driven from our previous location by the Empire. We stand a better chance if we stick together.” 

“Your clan shattered our people.” 

“We did not.” 

The Mandalorian tenses. “ѕнαвυιя,” he snarls. 

“You will not drive us away by insulting me,” Din says. “If you wish to fight over this land, we can do so at another time. I need to speak with Bo-Katan.” 

At this, the Mandalorian breathes heavily, and finally, he turns and vanishes back into the castle. Luke catches Din’s visor looking at him. Din shrugs. 

He’s actually… pretty good at negotiating. 

One of the Mandalorians keeping an eye on them receives a transmission. “Understood,” she says. She beckons Din and Luke to follow her. “Follow me.”

Their arrival must have caused a minor uproar. A dozen Mandalorians watch from every hallway Luke glances down. They are all blue, presumably Bo-Katan’s people, and they don’t seem happy. 

They are brought into a large hall, where spear-shaped windows bite into the ceiling, and white crystal casts a steady light over the room. A long carpet leads to a throne that resembles a hardened splash of lava, and on it, sits Bo-Katan.

She’s really got the throne thing down, maybe even as much as Boba Fett. Luke would not mess with either of them unless absolutely necessary purely based on their throne demeanour. 

“What the kirff are you doing,” Bo-Katan says. She doesn’t yell, just sounds exasperated, maybe even exhausted. 

“I’m taking you up on the offer to join you.” 

Bo-Katan looks at him. Her amber eyes narrow, and she gets up, and makes her way towards them. “You’re too late now,” she says. Her expression touches on cold rage. “I’m barely holding this together as it is. With the arrival of your covert, things have only gotten worse.” 

“Mandalore is habitable,” Din says. “There are other Mandalorians already living there.”

“The clans on Mandalore are belligerent and mad,” Bo-Katan snaps. “And the Empire has eyes on the planet. With the numbers we have, staging anything with only attract attention and get us all killed.” 

“Wasn’t taking back Mandalore your idea? Didn’t you have a plan?”

Bo-Katan’s eyes widen dangerously. “Are you serious? That was when I had support, and the prospect of the darksaber to unite our people. Now look at me.” She opens her arms. “I am just another failed dreamer. My group is plotting against me as we speak. It won’t be long before they scatter across the galaxy as mercenaries and bounty-hunters.” 

“Our people should have a home,” Din says. “If there is a chance we can take back Mandalore, we will be supported.”

“We?” Bo-Katan mocks. “Who is we? You and a Jedi? You think they’re going to trust a Jedi, after they allowed the Empire to rise and were helpless to do anything about it?” 

“You can trust me,” Luke says. Bo-Katan pins him with a glare. “I can’t speak for the Jedi of the past, because I wasn’t there when the Jedi Order fell. But I know that any true Jedi would side with the Mandalorians on this.” 

“Perhaps the true Jedi did, and suffered for it,” Bo-Katan says. “Is there not some greater purpose for you in the galaxy? Do you care about Din, is that why you’re here?”

“I want Jedi to be involved in things, not hiding because we were nearly defeated once. I could have chosen to dedicate my life to rebuilding the Jedi Order, but instead, the force brought me here — where I’m needed, now.” 

“That explanation isn’t going to cut it for the others,” Bo-Katan says. “You can stay here for three rotations. That is all. Then you’d better go, for your own sake, as well as mine.” 

Din tips his helmet. “Thank you,” he says. 

—

“It’s been a while,” says Ahsoka.

“It has.” Sabine smiles. She’s grown taller since Ahsoka last saw her, and her hair is cut short into a neon purple pixie cut. “So, you think you’ve found Ezra.” 

“I do. And unfortunately, Thrawn, as well.” 

Sabine had been off-world helping out with the New Republic when Ahsoka contacted her from the falcon. 

“I can’t believe he had the nerve to come here.” Sabine laughs. “To Ezra’s old tower. I mean, seriously? I’m surprised you trusted him as well.”

“I didn’t,” Ahsoka says. “I just… didn’t have any other leads.”

Sabine fixes her gaze. “The others will wanna know about this. Are you expecting me not to tell them?” 

“For now, yes. I’m sorry. I don’t want to give them false hope.” 

Sabine shrugs. “If you think he’s out there, I trust you. I don’t think you’re wrong. Was it a vision?” 

“It’s… difficult to say.” 

She can’t exactly say: No, actually, the ghost of Darth Maul, ex-Sith, the one who blinded Kanan, told me where Ezra is. That would probably not go down well.

“Okay, so a very unreliable Force-source,” Sabine summarises nicely. “Anyway, we got the Empire off Lothal again, and I doubt they’ll be back. Why was Thrawn looking for Ezra, though? What’s he planning?”

“I’m not sure what his plan is, long-term,” Ahsoka says. “He seems… interested in finding Ezra in an altruistic way.”

“Seriously? Ugh. No way. I don’t believe that for a second.” 

“They spent a long time in each other’s company. It wouldn’t be unexpected if—”

“Yeah, well, Ezra wouldn’t make friends with the guy who bombarded innocent people on Lothal. It’s Thrawn’s fault Kanan died, and Jacen has to grow up without a father.” 

Ahsoka doesn’t have anything to say. How does she even begin to explain to Sabine that, actually, Thrawn does care about Ezra and that the feeling is most likely reciprocated? She would probably feel very betrayed. Ezra's connection with Thrawn is something the young Jedi is going to have to justify himself. And she'll also be listening with great interest, because, really, why would they work together? 

What did Ezra learn in the unknown regions about Thrawn?

“Where do we start?” Sabine asks. 

“You’re not going to like this… but, Dathomir.” 

“What?” Sabine almost throws her helmet. “Dathomir? That creepy witch planet we had to rescue Ezra from Maul at?”

Ahsoka winces involuntarily. “Yeah. That Dathomir.” 

“What’s he doing on Dathomir? How did he end up there?” 

“I’m… not sure. Thrawn told me that they were separated in the world-between-worlds.”

“How do we know Thrawn didn’t just ditch him on Dathomir?”

“We don’t,” says Ahsoka. “We don’t know anything, yet.”

It’s a mystery. If Ezra even is on Dathomir. And Ahsoka doesn’t want to discuss with Sabine what he might be doing there; if the Night Sisters are using him somehow to regain their strength… 

The falcon hovers at the edge of the platform, waiting for them, and Ahsoka catches Mayan’s eye from the ramp. Her padawan has done well. She trusted the force to keep Ahsoka safe, and followed her own path. That’s not something many padawans find easy. Mayan has a strong connection to the force, and that’s what led her to a part of the Jedi temple network on Lothal that had never been uncovered before. 

This knowledge… Ahsoka wants to discuss it with the other Jedi. 

They’ll have a full council once they recover Ezra. After that, Ahsoka will meet with them both, and they will try to interpret the purpose of Mayan being granted this knowledge. 

But Ahsoka has a nagging feeling that there’s more she is still to learn before the time comes to discuss this. More to do with her connection to Maul, and the discovery of the deathsaber — currently hidden in one of R2’s compartments. 

—

Grogu summersaults off the top of a shelf and hits Luke’s broom with his stick. He lands on the bed with a little exclamation of joy.

“Good, Grogu,” Luke says. “Alright, Din, you’re up next.” He swaps the broom for his lightsaber.

Luke has been alternating between training Grogu and training Din. The interval seems to be what Din needs to collect himself after an attempt to wield the dark saber, which still, no matter how hard he tries to focus, grows heavy in his arms. 

“You’ve got this, just… focus on what you want.” Luke pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“That’s…” Din coughs. “Not helping right now.”

“Okay… well, think about fighting for an important reason.” 

“Wouldn’t that tie into what I want?” 

“I guess?” Luke steps past a clumsy vertical swing. “Okay, just…” Luke catches the edge of the darksaber with his lightsaber. He spins out of the parry, back into first form. “You don’t seem to be very into this,” Luke says, meeting his gaze.

“I am. It’s just… I don’t want to fight against you.” 

“Then, fight with me,” Luke suggests. “You need to convince the darksaber that obeying you is important in this situation.” 

“But it’s not,” Din says. “We aren’t fighting for real and I think it knows.” 

Grogu hops impatiently on the pillow. “Mu?” he asks. 

“Not yet, Grogu. Give me a little more time with Din, alright?” 

Grogu makes a little chirping sound, like a baby bird. He tests the pillow for bounciness, and, unsatisfied, returns to the mattress for jumping. 

“I’d usually say to be patient and take your time getting a feel for the darksaber, but I sense we don’t have much time for training,” Luke says. “You need to be ready.”

Din lifts the blade again. “I know,” he mutters. “I just can’t… get the hang of it.” 

“Well, let’s stop this for now,” Luke decides. “It isn’t helping. Grogu, how about we go and see if they feed us in this place?” 

“What should I do?” Din asks.

“Check Kymir is alright, then meditate for a bit. Those are your two very important jobs, Mandalorian!”

Luke is pretty sure that’s a chuckle he hears from Din as he leaves the room. Grogu jumps a metre and a half into the air and lands on his shoulder. “Bu,” he says, as Luke tries to find the kitchen.

“He’ll be alright.” Luke smiles as Grogu pats his hair. “Don’t worry. The force is with him, even though he’s a Mandalorian.” 

Unfortunately, supplies are low, so there isn’t much in the way of breakfast. Luke suspects that this might just be a ruse to stir up animosity between the two clans, but again… it isn’t his place to mitigate between them. This is something they’re going to have to figure out on their own.

“Mu?” Grogu points towards the window. 

“Oh, you wanna go outside? Alright, little forager. I don’t know if there are frogs on this planet, and I don’t want you getting sick, so don’t eat anything weird, okay?” 

Luke spends some time looking around in the grass with Grogu. They don’t find any frogs, but there are some weird green slugs that Grogu gobbles up before Luke has the chance to tell him not to. 

Then, Grogu switches on his lightsaber and waves it around. Once he starts trying to fry slugs on it, Luke tells him to stop.

“Grogu, lightsabers are for defence, not attack."

Grogu looks at him with big, sad eyes. “Patu,” he complains. 

Luke totally sympathises with Din. The little guy is really hard to say no to. “Do you remember being trained with a lightsaber on Coruscant?” he asks. 

Unsurprisingly, Grogu isn’t able to offer a definitive answer. He seems to understand the question, partially, but as to whether he remembers anything…

“Would you like to remember?”

Grogu nuzzles into the palm of Luke’s hand. He sits by him, crosslegged, as Grogu closes his eyes and Luke finds his way into his mind with the force. 

Luke sees through eyes that are entirely different from his own. The edges of his vision are clear, the shadows brighter. It’s no wonder Grogu finds it so easy to catch frogs. Grogu swings a stick, and trips over his feet. 

“Too young you are, to weird a lightsaber, hm?” Master Yoda lifts little Grogu back onto his feet. “Time it will take, to master the ways of the force.”

Grogu burbles and waves the stick again. He seems really eager. Luke marvels at this. Compared to now, this little Grogu is so excited to become a Jedi. He toddles over to the other side of the training room and whacks the training dummy’s feet with his stick repeatedly. 

“Tired, you are. Fool me, you cannot.” 

To Grogu’s apparent delight, he’s lifted off his feet by the force, and Yoda floats Grogu to his little carrier. He tries to jump out, but gradually, fatigue sinks in, and he falls fast asleep, the image of Yoda replacing the little stick on the training rack fading away. 

Grogu clambers onto Luke’s lap, the gentle sound of the ocean crashing beneath the cliffs below. 

“Do you want to finish the training that Master Yoda began?” Luke asks him.

Grogu tilts his head. “Bu,” he says. Luke takes that as a… maybe. He nudges into Luke’s hand again, and an image flashes into Luke’s mind. One of Din, with Grogu in the pilot seat. 

“Mandalorians need to know how to navigate the galaxy. That way, you’ll never be lost.” 

Never be lost, huh? Luke gazes into Grogu’s wide, dark eyes. That sounds pretty nice. 

“Many would say it’s impossible to walk both paths,” Luke says to him. “I would have, too. But if anyone can be both Jedi and Mandalorian, it’s you, Grogu. And Din and I will help as much as we can to guide you.”

Grogu breathes noisily, which Luke interprets as a sign of gratitude. 

Grogu gobbles up a couple more slugs, and then they go back inside, where things are tense in the kitchens. 

“Why should we aid these imposters? They’re going to try and convert us to follow their unconventional ways, and before long, real Mandalorians won’t exist anymore!” 

 “Hear, hear!”

It’s the Mandalorian who stopped them last night, rallying a group of others. Luke doesn’t see Bo-Katan anywhere. He sneaks in through the shadows with Grogu bundled in his cloak and almost makes it to the door before he is stopped.

“Jedi! Where do you think you’re going?” The Mandalorian shoves him back. Luke keeps his body between her and Grogu, though Grogu seems ready for a fight. 

“Don’t be upset, Grogu. They’re still getting used to us being here,” Luke whispers to him.

Grogu narrows his eyes and makes a face like a hissing loth cat.

“You’re trying to steal the darksaber back, aren’t you?” She moves as if to seize him, but Luke anticipates and she misses, grabbing at the empty air. “You know we were made to fight your kind. Don’t think we can’t bring you down.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Luke says. “But I’m not here for the darksaber. I have given my word to Din Djarin and Bo-Katan Kryze that I will not get involved in Mandalorian affairs.” 

She chuckles then. “Can you really promise that?” 

Luke hears it then. The sound of blaster fire, and the clang of bescar against bescar. He holds his breath, relaxes his body to throw her off, then reaches for the force to allow him to slip past like a sudden breeze.

“Hey, he got out!” she hollers. “Damn Jedi and their dirty tricks—”

Luke doesn’t hear the rest. He sprints through the hallway in the direction of the hall, dodging Mandalorians who have wandered out of their rooms at the sound of a fight like wasps. Luke knows already what’s happened — he doesn’t even doubt it for a second. He just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

“Din!” Luke yells. There are three surrounding him. Dozens on the sidelines, waiting for a chance to jump in. 

“Stay back!” Din slams his arm into the helmet of one of his attackers. “You can’t get involved!”

Luke’s heart races. Din is knocked off balance by a kick to the shins, but he manages to bring the other Mandalorian down with him, and they scuffle on the ground. Din gets him in a headlock, but before he can knock him out, another attacker jumps in and slams a blaster against his helmet.

Then Grogu starts shrieking and tries to jump out of his arms. Luke’s blood turns to ice. Din struggles beneath two bodies, and Luke has to do it.

“Grogu, I’m sorry…” Luke whispers, and with a gentle brush of his thumb across the squirming child’s head, he sends Grogu to sleep.

He knows Din would never forgive him otherwise. 

None of the Mandalorians from Din’s covert are even doing anything. Luke watches, helplessly, as Din’s arm is twisted behind his back, and he cries out in pain.

“I can lead better than that coward Bo-Katan!” says one. 

“Over my dead body!” says another.

They’re going to kill him. Tear him to pieces like a pack of wolves. Whatever they talked about, it doesn’t matter. Luke can’t let him die for the meagrest chance that Mandalore could be where they finally take a stand against the Empire’s relentless persecution. They can keep hiding, hiding is fine. Hiding keeps Din Djarin alive and safe and with Grogu and —

The darksaber slashes through the fight. Din stands, breathing heavily, the weapon clutched in his shaking hands. He raises it and blocks the next punch, twisting the saber to slice his attacker’s blaster in half. She yells and goes to kick him, but Din is faster, and slices a gash down her thigh.

He faces the next Mandalorian. The weapon has nothing of the heaviness that Luke is so used to seeing him struggle with, instead, it flows, as light as air, electric white around razor-black. 

This is the fight where he will find his resolve. This is the fight he has to win.

Din manages to fend off the initial three attackers, but he’s obviously tiring, and his balance betrays him. Another five prowl the edges of the fight. If Luke thought he stood a chance before, he is certain that he doesn’t now.

“Stop this at once!” And suddenly Bo-Katan is there, like a gift from the force. Boosted by her jetpack, she lands a flying kick on the next attacker, and crashes them into the wall. Bo-Katan lands by Din’s side, shaking with rage. “You call yourselves Mandalorians? You would dishonour the darksaber’s legacy and challenge for the blade like cowards?” Bo-Katan seethes. “Shame on you all. You don’t deserve your armour!”

Chapter Text

Of the two times Luke has seen Bo-Katan Kryze, she’s been angry. Somehow, standing in front of them now, she’s even more angry than Luke has ever seen her before. Luke wonders if this is her default. He wouldn’t be surprised — considering what she has to put up with. 

“So, you want the darksaber now?” Bo-Katan’s voice is a little higher pitched than usual. “The previous times we met you insisted I take it from you.”

“I changed my mind,” says Din. “If you want to fight me for it, I accept your challenge.” 

Bo-Katan stares him down. “I see.” Her jaw clenches. “Do you realise what just happened?” 

“I was attacked because they do not acknowledge my right to the blade.” 

“That isn’t what I’m talking about. I mean with the darksaber.” 

“It…” Din hesitates.

“It responded to you,” Bo-Katan says. “The blade has acknowledged your ownership of it, and your desires. The Jedi would say that this is the will of the force, but I understand it as merely its alliance has shifted. Pass me the blade.” 

Din stares at her.

Bo-Katan rolls her eyes. “Din, you have a Jedi with you. I’m not going to try anything.” 

Reluctantly, Din hands her the darksaber. When Bo-Katan ignites the blade, her arms drop, as if weighed down. Her face makes a complicated expression. Luke senses many emotions: grief, regret, bitterness. 

She looks at Din again. “Well? It’s yours now. The darksaber never worked the way our people thought it did. The blade does not shift alliances if won in combat, it shifts alliances if its new wielder’s resolve is stronger than its previous owner’s.” 

“Then, you don’t want it anymore,” Din states. 

Bo-Katan shuts off the blade. “If I challenge you and win, it would be safe to say that my resolve is stronger than yours, and the darksaber’s alliance would shift back to me.” Nevertheless, she passes the weapon back to Din. “Good luck,” she says, bitterly. “You’re going to need it.” 

“What I need are allies,” Din says.

“Right now, I’m your biggest threat. What did you not understand about what I just said?” 

“I understand that you are a highly capable warrior, with experience with the darksaber, and leadership qualities that I do not have.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an idiot?” 

“Not in… those exact words…”

“Well, you are. Your own clan might support you, but mine won’t, and neither will others. You don’t have the advantage of being a princess, Din. Nobody knows who you are.”

“The creed will unite us,” Din says.

“Everyone follows different variations of the creed.” 

“And honour is part of all of them. We are all Mandalorians. Why should we be at odds with each other?”

“That’s a child’s way of thinking.” 

“The ones who challenged me dishonourably must become ∂αя’мαи∂α.”

“I can’t banish them,” Bo-Katan hisses. “We have few enough numbers as it is!” 

“They do not follow the creed that unites us,” Din says. “They are not Mandalorian.” 

Bo-Katan narrows her eyes. “Others will follow them. They may stage an uprising against you.” 

Din returns the darksaber to his belt. “This is the way,” he says.  

Luke wonders if this is the same Din Djarin from before, or a new person entirely.

—

“You can take it back, look, I got a crystal of my own,” Mayan says, Ahsoka’s lightsaber in her outstretched hand. 

Ahsoka hesitates. “We still need to construct your lightsaber.” 

“You can’t not have a lightsaber,” Mayan says. “I don’t need it anymore. I promise.”  

Sabine glances back at them from the seat by the compartments. “Hey, maybe Ezra can help you build one. He used to collect all sorts of weird materials.” 

“I have most of the parts I need. I’m just missing a repeat power circuit.”

“Repeat power circuit, huh? Bet Luke would have one of those. Kid’s a whiz with stuff like that,” says Han Solo, picking his teeth. Chewbacca roars in agreement. 

“Did he construct his own lightsaber?” 

“Yeah. He lost the other one off Cloud City.” 

Ahsoka’s heart clenches. “He lost Anakin’s?”

“Yeah… well, he was pretty upset about it.” 

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka says. “Anakin would be proud of him for building one himself.”

“Leia built one too,” Han says. “Leia, hey, Leia!” he yells. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“Ahsoka Tano.”

“Ahsoka wants to know about your lightsaber!” 

Leia appears from the doorway, thin, dark eyebrows knitted together. “What is it? I’m trying to contact home base.”

“Hey, hey! Who’s flying this ship?” Han says. “Come on, Chewy. None of this Jedi crap ever makes sense anyway.” 

Once he’s gone, Ahsoka says, “Your partner is…” 

“Han is Han.” Leia rolls her eyes. “He’s about as force sensitive as a rock.” 

Ahsoka smiles. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“Happy to help.” Leia sits beside Sabine. She crosses her legs. “We can take you to Dathomir, but I’m afraid we can’t stay.”

“That’s fine,” Ahsoka says.

“I hear you're short of a lightsaber. You can take mine.” 

Ahsoka can’t help the disbelief showing on her face. “I… won’t you need it?”

“I have my reasons for not using it,” Leia says. “I want you to have it. You were a friend to my father and to Obi-Wan. If you take it, you have to promise you’ll watch over Luke, though.” 

“Of course. And you as well,” Ahsoka says. “Thank you for trusting me.”

It doesn’t feel like an adequate way of saying that she’ll always watch over them, that she would protect Anakin and Padme’s twins with her life, but Leia seems to understand. 

An hour later, exiting hyperspace at Dathomir, Han curses loudly, and the radar blares red. Ahsoka casts a worried glance in Sabine and Leia’s direction.

“We’ve got multiple ships on the radar! What in the hell is this? A miniature imperial blockade?”

Ahsoka almost doesn’t believe what she’s seeing. How did Thrawn muster two star cruisers to find Ezra on Dathomir? 

“Something is wrong here,” Ahsoka says.

“No kidding, lady,” says Han. “Chewy, turn the power off! We don’t want them to detect us.” 

Han flicks some controls and at Chewy’s growl, the ship powers down.

“We need to report this immediately,” says Leia, leaning over Ahsoka’s seat to get a better look.

There’s an incoming transmission. 

“Blast it. Too slow,” Han says. “Alright, this was a fun detour, but we’re getting out of here.” 

“Wait, let me receive it,” Ahsoka says.

“Are you sure?” Han raises an eyebrow. Everybody has crowded him in the pilot seat. He shrugs, stretching his arms behind his head. “Alright, knock yourselves out. But I’m getting ready to jump — I’ve been in situations like this before and they usually require a jump to hyperspace.” 

No image appears with the transmission. It’s really very odd. Ahsoka is about to ask who the force is transmitting and what they want when the person speaks.

“Jedi Tano.”

“Thrawn,” Ahsoka says. She can't believe this. “What’s going on here? Why have you brought so many ships?”

“I will explain briefly. I have been stationed here to prevent ships from leaving or entering Dathomir by high command.”

“I thought you were high command?” 

“I am pressed for time so please do not interrupt. The ban on ships entering Dathomir extends to imperial ships also, therefore, I cannot access the planet's surface. Additionally, allowing you to pass goes against direct orders. I'm afraid you will have to disappear.” 

“I see.” Ahsoka runs over everything she knows about this mysterious situation with Thrawn and Ezra in her mind. Ezra and Thrawn, somehow, in the unknown regions, figured out a means of travel using the world-between-worlds. Perhaps another Jedi temple? Then, when they tried to return, Ezra was separated from Thrawn by the night sisters, who brought him to Dathomir. Ahsoka suspects that Maul is on the right lines with his theory about the night sisters attempting to regain their strength and resurrect, but what does that have to do with Ezra? Has he been captured by them? Thrawn seemed to imply that Ezra was intent on investigating the night sisters, that he went with them willingly. 

And then, Thrawn's starships. "I have been stationed here to prevent ships from leaving or entering Dathomir by high command." Essentially, someone above Thrawn must know what's really going on with Dathomir. Ahsoka runs a hand over her forehead. To say that's concerning would be an understatement. Imperial remnants interested in night sister magic? Bad news. It stinks of Sith. She almost wonders...

No. Ahsoka steadies herself, relaxing her muscles that had tensed suddenly at that thought. Palpatine is dead.

Maul was dead, you whisper. 

Thrawn asked her to help Ezra. He might care about him, but that doesn't mean he won't cut his losses like the ruthless military leader he is. Ahsoka knows this.

“Time is up," says Thrawn. "Will you proceed to Dathomir?” 

“You already know the answer to that.” 

“Very well. I hope your pilot is as good as Syndulla to go against our superior TIE fighters.” 

The call cuts off. 

Sabine’s face twists into something akin to disgust or disbelief. “Did Thrawn just…"

“Secretly tell us that their TIE fighters have been upgraded?” Ahsoka follows. “Yeah.” 

“Hey, I’m an excellent pilot.” 

“Why would Thrawn undermine his own efforts?” Sabine puzzles. “That’s so un-Thrawn-like I don’t even… is he tricking us?” 

“Thrawn’s intentions are still unclear,” says Ahsoka. “He seems to want us to succeed in finding Ezra, but ultimately he answers to the Empire.” 

“Hold on, I thought we got rid of the Empire?” 

Everyone looks at Han. 

“We…” Ahsoka begins, “Thought we did.” 

“Well, perhaps Grand Admiral Thrawn can explain how they still remain in such concerning numbers,” Leia adds gravely.

“Sounds good, sweetheart,” says Han. “TIE’s incoming!” 

Ahsoka hopes he really is a good pilot. Otherwise, both she and Thrawn are going to be sorely disappointed. 

Han outmanoeuvres the initial two TIE fighters, but another wave approaches from the star destroyer. Four more, guns blazing. 

“Guns, Chewy, Sabine! Uh, Ahsoka, make yourself useful.”

Ahsoka almost smiles at Han’s efforts to be polite. She takes the top guns (Chewbacca and Sabine take the lower ones) and sends a trail of blaster fire after one of the TIEs. The little craft spins and avoids it easily. They really are superior. Faster, more agile — the New Republic is going to have to up their game. 

It still doesn’t make sense for these TIEs to have been manufactured. Imperial remnants are quickly flushed out of systems, and Ahsoka is certain that the New Republic would have caught wind of this. She hopes Leia can gather enough information on the new fighters to be useful against them.

Then, Ahsoka wonders, perhaps they’ve been looking in the wrong place. Maybe the Empire wasn’t holding out in charted space. Maybe… 

But if that’s the case, they’re taking a huge risk exposing themselves like this. The fact is that whatever remains of the Empire is directing its full strength on preventing any interference on Dathomir... 

This definitely isn't just about Ezra anymore. 

Sabine blasts a flaming hole through one of the TIE’s wings, and Chewbacca sends one careering off course with a direct hit to its front windshield. Unfortunately, both ships recover after a moment. Their shields are more powerful than anything Ahsoka has ever seen, and with the barrage of hits they’re taking, she’s not sure the Falcon will hold up against the for much longer. 

“Ahsoka, this isn’t going to work,” Leia says over the comm link. “We need to fall back.” 

“Alright—”

“No! We’re not leaving. We have to get to Dathomir,” Sabine yells. “It’s obvious Thrawn’s trying to drive us away so he can capture him. I’m not losing Ezra again!”

“Sabine, we can’t win against these TIEs,” Ahsoka tries. 

But Sabine isn’t listening. “Lead them out of the range of the cruisers,” she says.

Ahsoka closes her eyes. “I think I know what you want to do, but I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Hera could make it work!” 

Han evades more fire and eventually positions the Falcon beneath the two cruisers. “Alright I’m in their blind spot,” he says. “Whatever your plan is, the shields ain't gonna hold up much longer!” 

The Falcon tremors with another barrage of blasts. 

Sabine gives the command. “Seismic charge now!” 

“You’re joking. Do you realise how expensive those things are?” 

“Just do it, Han!” Leia yells.

Han curses under his breath, and slowly, turns the Falcon upside down. “Alright. This is still a terrible idea. If we all die, it’s your fault.” 

Ahsoka is confused for a moment, but then she realises what Han is doing. The seismic charge sits right on the underside of the ship — currently flipped so it’s the upside. The TIEs close in from above, because they’re trying to avoid the cannons. The Falcon going upside down confuses them, and they fly level with the ship. Just then, Han fires up the thrusters and sends the ship down. The charge blinks for a moment, suspended there above them, then detonates. 

Soundlessly, then, that familiar, echoing crunch of blue light eating through sound.

Ahsoka cringes. Her lekku feel like they’ve just been punched. They’re going to ache for hours after this. 

“It didn’t work,” Han says. “Two survived. Alright, I’m calling it, we’re leaving.” 

“No, wait!” Sabine cries.

“Sabine, I’m serious!” 

“Look!” 

A strange green ring of smoke, like a smear against the background of stars, is suspended eerily in the middle of space. It throbs with energy, and Ahsoka realises that it’s a portal.

“Fly into it,” Ahsoka says.

“What?” Han exclaims. 

“I said, fly into it!” 

Han yells and turns the ship around. “I hope you know what you’re doing!” 

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. “I hope so too…” 

—

“You have redeemed yourself?” asks the Armourer. 

“I have,” says Din. 

The intense blue of the forge reflects off both of their helmets and the heat dusts Luke’s cheeks with warmth.

“And you have acquired another foundling…” The Armourer’s tone shifts to something decidedly less serious and more akin to amusement. “What is the name of this child?”

“Kymir,” Din says.

“Kymir, do you wish to join our covert?” the Armourer asks the boy.

Kymir looks from Din to the Armourer, brows furrowing.

“He doesn’t speak basic,” Din says. “Kymir, тιαи’¢σρααиιя тσ αℓιιт?” he translates. 

Kymir bites his lip. “иαу¢,” he says. 

Luke infers that his answer is no. 

Din looks at the Armourer. “He has had a bad experience with his covert. He will not trust easily.” 

“Without a covert, he will have no protection.” 

“I will watch over him.” 

“At this time, you are also in need of protection,” says the Armourer, lightly. “You were almost killed this morning.”

“It has been dealt with… Bo-Katan is—”

“Bo-Katan is only cooperating so long as there is a chance for her to reclaim the darksaber.” 

“I think she has given up. The darksaber no longer responds to her.”

“You trust too easily,” the Armourer says. “You will not be safe if this continues.” 

“It is… what I must do,” Din says tightly.

“How so?”

“The darksaber will help me to get what I want. It’s a risk I have to take.” 

“And if you die?” 

“I won’t,” Din says. “If I die in combat over the blade it means I have given up on my desire.” 

“And that will not happen?” 

“No. I will do what it takes to make Mandalore somewhere safe for… everyone.”

Luke feels his chest tightening. Part of him wants to acknowledge where the strange feeling comes from, but he buries the thought immediately. No. It’s not like that. That’s stupid. 

Din wants to do something honourable.

Luke is here to help him.

There’s nothing more to it.

Chapter Text

When Ahsoka comes to, it’s dark all around her. Then she realises. She hasn’t woken up. This is…

“You are on Dathomir,” Maul says, almost amused. He hums contemplatively and sits down beside her. Ahsoka realises that she is lying on the ground.

“Are we alright?” She tries to sit, but winces at a sudden sharp pain in her rips. “Oh force, we didn’t crash, did we?” 

“I don’t know. You’re alive, presumably.” 

“Well, if I’m stuck here forever we’ll know for sure,” Ahsoka says dryly. 

“Why did you crash?” Maul asks.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have infinite patience.” 

“That’s a first.”

“I’m waiting.” 

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “Thrawn, for some reason, has a small fleet over Dathomir. Ezra has gotten himself involved in something the remnants of the Empire are interested in. I told Han to fly into a portal that seemed to originate from Dathomir, so I assumed it was Night Sister magic. Who knows what they’ve done with us now.”

“Yes, the portal theory seems plausible. However…” Maul narrows his yellow eyes. “That would imply that the Night Sisters have strengthened quite significantly.” 

“This is… going to be a problem?” 

Maul shrugs. “That remains to be seen. As I said before, they will attempt to resurrect using whatever means necessary. They may have captured you as a sacrifice, so… beware.” 

“Beware? Is that ‘be careful’ in Maul?”

“I am not a language. Anyway, what you said about the Empire’s interest in Dathomir is concerning. Dathomir has no resources I can imagine them having a use for. Other than its connection to the dark side of the force through the Night Sister magic, Dathomir is virtually a swamp wasteland.” 

Ahsoka sighs. “That is, unless, they are interested in the Night Sister magic.”

“Then you presume this is somehow related to the deathsaber.” 

“I do. My involvement in both has somehow originated from my connection to you. That cannot be a coincidence.”

"Again, I have never heard of a weapon like that. I doubt it is related to the Night Sisters, although I must admit I know little about my people’s history.” 

Ahsoka frowns at that. Well, it makes sense. Maul must have been taken to become a Sith apprentice at a young age. In that sense, they’re not so unalike. 

“So, we don’t know what the Empire is doing here, but it’s possibly Sith related. Brilliant. Let’s just hope Ezra’s alright, whatever he’s gotten involved in.”

“Do you still believe he hasn’t turned?” 

Ahsoka shakes her head. “He hasn’t. Not Ezra.” She turns to Maul. “You know he was never going to. He is too kind.” 

“You theorised that strong emotions is the path to the dark side.”

“Negative emotions.” 

Maul shrugs. “I suppose we shall see.” 

—

“Ahsoka? Ahsoka!” Mayan shakes Ahsoka’s shoulders, but her master doesn’t stir. She holds her face and tries to somehow will her awake with the force, but nothing seems to work. Her eyes remain closed, eyelids twitching minutely every few seconds. 

“Is she alright?” Leia asks, crouching by the broken tree Ahsoka rests against.

“I think so… she goes into deep sleeps sometimes. I don’t really know what…” Mayan hugs her arms. “Um, is the Falcon okay?”

“Ships fine,” Han says, an edge of annoyance in his tone, as he walks over to them. “But Ahsoka better wake up soon so I can ask her what in the hell just happened.” 

“We went through a portal,” Mayan says.

Han squints. “How d’you know that?” 

“I’m a Jedi padawan…”

Han throws his hands in the air. “Not another one! Come on, Chewy,” he says, “let’s go help Sabine get the engine started like normal people. Damn Jedi…force portals…” he mutters.

R2 beeps in a pattern that Mayan recognises as a laugh as Han stalks off.

“I hope Ahsoka wakes up soon…” Mayan says, mostly to herself, though Leia is still beside her.

“Yes, well,” Leia starts, “we need to get back home. This was meant to be a drop-off, not another adventure.” 

Mayan wonders if these people go on a lot of adventures. She has only been on… three? Including this one. Maybe four, if you count the cursed mountain. Anyway, adventures are relatively new for Mayan so she doesn’t really know what to do in this situation. Are they supposed to go exploring the planet to look for Ezra immediately? Should they be worrying about the ships above them — like two small dark tears in the grey sky? 

“Annoying… bastard…” Ahsoka mutters and groans. Her head flops a little and her eyes twitch open a crack.

Mayan and Leia share a look.

“Ahsoka?” Mayan tries.

“Huh, what?” Ahsoka rights herself, and blue eyes stare at Mayan.

“What does—”

“I sure am glad you’re awake!” Leia says loudly. 

Ahsoka’s eyebrows curve in confusion. She looks between Mayan and Leia and eventually seems to settle on Leia. “Thanks,” she says. “How long was I out for?”

“Oh, just ten minutes.”

Ahsoka cringes. “Sorry…”

Leia fixes her with a look that Mayan has seen on mothers faces before. Cooly stern. “It’s fine…. but we do need to figure out what happened.” 

“Of course,” Ahsoka says. She reaches for Leia’s hand to help her stand. “Okay, we’re on Dathomir,” Ahsoka surmises.

“Yes.” 

“I think it’s important that we—” Ahsoka scrunches her face, reaching up to run her forehead. She stumbles a little.

“Ahsoka!” Mayan grabs her wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I feel a little dizzy,” Ahsoka says. She looks at Mayan and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “But I’ll be fine. Let’s gather everyone together and decide what to do.”

Nobody could agree on their next step. Han and Leia, reluctantly, felt that they needed to return to the New Republic as quickly as possible to report on the Empire’s activities in the area. Ahsoka agreed, partially, but was also somewhat inclined to Sabine’s perspective — that they’d come this far; they might as well stick around and find Ezra, then go back home. 

Ahsoka took some time to think about it. “The only solution I can think of is —”

Before she can finish, something happens. Mayan can’t pinpoint exactly what happens, but suddenly there’s a strangeness in the air — as though they aren’t alone. It makes Mayan think of ghosts. 

And then, right beyond the trees, there are ghosts. 

Skeletal figures emerge from the twisty trees, creeping out into the clearing surrounding the crash site. A small group wear red hooded robes. The others have hair the colour of bone, styled usually partially shaven. They must be the night sisters. 

“We do not welcome visitors,” one of the sisters rasps. She raises her bow and pulls an arrow back, ready to fire. 

Mayan flinches instinctively, and Ahsoka steps in front of her.

“We come in peace—”

“You are surrounded.” 

“Please, listen to us,” Ahsoka tries again. “We’re looking for our friend—”

“The boy has no business with you,” one of the sisters hisses. 

Sabine steps forward, but Ahsoka holds her back. “So he’s here?” she raises her voice and her words are sharp. “Ezra’s with you?” 

The sister lowers her bow slightly. “Ezra is a son of Dathomir,” she says. 

“What?” Sabine exclaims. 

One of the sisters mutters, seemingly to herself. “Mother…” she says, “will they be useful to us?” 

The air shifts in response and Mayan’s feathers stand on end. 

The sister’s head lolls sideways, and her eyes roll back. When she opens her eyes, they glow the same eerie green as the portal that brought them here from space. She raises her arm, pointing to Ahsoka. “You,” a voice rasps. “You, alone.” 

Ahsoka hesitates. “May I bring Sabine and Mayan?” 

The sister twitches as if sneering. “You may only bring them. Leave the rest.” 

“Thank you, Mother Talzin,” Ahsoka whispers, bowing her head. 

Ahsoka turns back to Han, Leia and Chewbacca. “Thank you for taking us here,” she says. “Be careful on your way home.”

“Yeah, no worries,” Han says. “We’ll just evade the star cruisers. No big deal.” 

Leia chuckles. “Han,” she chides. “Listen, it’s fine. Good luck and I hope you find Ezra. Keep in touch, alright?” 

Chewbacca yowls in agreement. 

Ahsoka smiles. “Of course.”

Mayan reaches for Ahsoka’s hand and they follow the night sisters deeper into the murky forest. There doesn’t seem to be anything alive nearby, and the air smells putridly of rot. Mayan catches glimpses of white in the ground and wonders if they’re bones. 

“Mother is tethered to the temple,” says the night sister who had spoken on behalf of Mother Talzin before. “She will speak with you there.” 

“I understand,” Ahsoka says. 

Sabine wrinkles her nose. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?” 

“We need allies,” rasps the sister. “And Mother is interested in what the Jedi knows.” 

—

Ahsoka’s stomach squirms. Can Mother Talzin somehow sense her connection to Maul? That could be… awkward. Sabine certainly can’t know. For Mayan, it probably wouldn’t mean anything, but perhaps it isn’t the best example to set for her padawan: conspiring with an ex-Sith. 

The sight of the temple steals the breath from Ahsoka’s lungs. “What happened here?” she asks, taking in the scene of destruction before her. The trees are bent and splintered, and the temple has collapsed so thoroughly that only a small gap serves as the entrance now. It hardly resembles a great race of witches; it looks more like a makeshift cave. 

“Dathomir was attacked once during the Clone Wars, and my sisters were all killed. Not long before the end of the war, Dathomir was attacked again,” the night sister explains. “Mother tried to fight the Sith Lord, but he was too powerful in the ways of the dark side.”

“Palpatine was here?” Sabine says. “Why?”

“Mother will explain,” says the sister. “Our spirits were weak, and we could not aid her.”

Ahsoka wants to ask how they’ve been regaining their strength but resolves to wait for Mother Talzin to explain rather than ask this sister more questions she isn’t willing to answer. 

The other sisters peel off from the group and disappear into the forest. The sister leads them into the cave, and Sabine visibly recoils. 

“Last time I was here some of you tried to possess me,” she accuses.

The sister doesn’t apologise. “We were in need of sacrifices.”

“And you aren’t anymore?” Sabine presses. “Just what does Ezra have to do with this? I hope you have a good explanation, otherwise…”

“Sabine,” Ahsoka lifts her hand. “Be patient. Mother Talzin has offered to explain; let’s not take her hospitality for granted.”

“Mother will speak with you at the altar,” says the sister.

“Sounds awfully like we’re going to be sacrificed—”

Ahsoka follows the night sister into another room, clambering over some dislodged stones. It’s dark in here, so she guides Mayan carefully, aware that her padawan’s eyes are not as accustomed to the darkness.

They reach the altar, where a cracked orb floats suspended above the altar, glowing eerily green. Magic bursts out, and the apparition of Mother Talzin appears. She has not yet crossed over from the spirit world, but none of her fearsomeness has been lost through no longer being in a  physical form. Her dark eyes penetrate Ahsoka’s.

“I can send you to the boy,” Mother Talzin says. Her voice echoes as if it comes from all around them. “There, you will assist him.”

“May I ask what Ezra is doing for you?” Ahsoka asks. 

“There is a threat to our covert and our planet Dathomir, which you have already seen on your journey. The threat must be taken care of, and the covert must regain its strength if our people are to survive. To achieve those ends, I have sent the boy to recover something that was stolen from me.” Mother Talzin reaches towards Ahsoka. “Come, I will open the portal.” 

Two night sisters scurry over and pick up the green orb. They carry it, and Mother Talzin’s spirit, through a doorway and into another room. The room is empty, save for a large stone slab which rests against the furthest wall, with pictures that depict…

“The Mortis gods…” Ahsoka murmurs. “This is how you brought us here?”

“Ezra Bridger brought powerful magic with him, in the form of the world between worlds. I can sense that your destiny was also intertwined in this pathway,” Mother Talzin says. The night sisters place the orb on a small table in the centre of the room, and her spirit bathes the walls in green light.

“Why would Ezra give you access to this?” Sabine asks, stepping back. “With this kind of power you could—”

“This is but a fraction of the true power of the gateway,” Mother Talzin says. “Only useful as a way to travel the stars.”

“That’s how you created the portal,” Ahsoka says. “And now you want to send us to Ezra.”

“He faces a powerful enemy, trained in the dark side of the force. Your aid comes not a moment too soon.”

“Hold on a minute—” Sabine says, but Mother Talzin is already opening the gateway. She chants ancient night sister magic, and Ahsoka watches as the spirits are absorbed by the Mortis gods, and the lines on the picture drink the green magic until all of their eyes glow green.

“There is no time to lose,” Mother Talzin says. The portal opens where the stone slab was, pulsing green, sucking in air like a vortex. “If they fail to recover what was lost, the Sith will rise again and the covert will be destroyed. Go!” 

Ahsoka steps forwards warily. She doesn’t trust any of this. Sabine could be right, what if Mother Talzin is trying to sacrifice them to regain her physical form? There’s no way of knowing. What if Maul was manipulated by her to lead them there? Maybe Ezra isn’t even—

“Look!” Sabine cries. 

Through the howling magic, Ahsoka makes out a faint image inside the portal. Two individuals, a night sister, and…

“That’s Ezra, right?” Sabine shakes Ahsoka’s arm. “That’s definitely Ezra!” 

It’s blurry, but there’s no doubt about it. No one else has hair that exact shade of navy blue. His Jedi robes sweep the ground as he dodges an attack, parrying red lightsabers with a cracking electric weapon.

“He needs this.” Sabine clutches Ezra’s lightsaber. “He’s facing a Sith, Ahsoka!” 

Ahsoka looks at Mayan. “Are you coming?” 

“I’m going wherever you go,” Mayan says.

Sabine jumps through, and Ahsoka grabs Mayan’s hand and follows after her. 

Chapter Text

Luke doesn't usually dream. Or, he’s good at stopping himself from, because more often than not when he dreams, they’re nightmares. Sometimes him failing to blow up the Death Star, other times they couldn’t save Han, or the rebellion was destroyed on Hoth. But those aren’t really nightmares — they’re just… uncomfortable dreams. The bad ones involve Vader. His father coming back somehow and, without hesitation, striking him down. He’d failed to turn him to the good side. 

But the worst ones are when Darth Sidious is using his force lightning on him, and Luke is writhing on the floor, begging, screaming for his father to save him and then…

And then he wakes up.

He is never sure if it’s because, at that moment, he was so afraid that his father wouldn’t save him. Of course, the Jedi part of him told him that was nonsense. Vader would turn. He could feel the conflict in him, the love for his son, but the Luke part… the Luke from Tatooine? That Luke was afraid. 

Warmth touches him through the force. Someone is… here. Sitting on his chest? Wait. 

“Grogu?” Luke groans and tries to sit, but the little guy is heavy, so he only manages to prop himself up on his elbows. “What’s the matter?”

“Patu,” says Grogu, his dark eyes reflecting the light from the lamp on the side of the wall. You - Grogu says through the force.

“Sorry,” a voice whispers from a little way away. “He wanted to come and see you. I said you’d be asleep.” 

Luke smiles at Din. He’s missing most of his armour, other than his helmet. It’s a strange sight. “It’s okay,” Luke says. “I- I don’t like sleeping anyway.” He chuckles. 

“Are you alright?” Din asks. “You seem a bit…” 

“I’m fine,” Luke assures him.

Grogu reaches out and pokes his cheek. 

“Ow.” Luke takes his little clawed hand. “Grogu, I promise I’m alright. Why don’t you go back to sleep, okay?” 

Grogu yawns, and then decides that Luke is a comfortable place to sleep, so snuggles into his chest.

“Oh,” Luke says. “That isn’t really what I meant, but sure.” 

Din moves a little closer. He hesitates to speak. “Could he sense that you were…”

Luke rearranges the pillows so that he can sit more comfortably, one arm around Grogu who is apparently fast asleep. 

“Sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it.” 

Luke focuses on the sensation of Grogu’s ear between his fingers. “Grogu is strongly attuned to the emotions of those he cares about,” he says. “People tend to… feel… a lot of things when they dream.” 

Din nods. He glances at the door.

“I can move over if you want to lie down as well? I know you don’t like leaving Grogu.” 

“He is as safe with you as he is with me,” Din murmurs. “Maybe safer.” 

“Din,” Luke says, “you like to be close to him not just because you want to protect him. Seriously, there’s plenty of room and it’s almost morning anyway. I used to have to squeeze in next to Han all the time on the Falcon because for some reason there were only three bedrooms and nobody wanted to share with Chewy.”

Din stares at him.

“Chewy is a Wookie, so…” Luke frowns. “And Leia grew up pampered so there was no way she was sharing with me. And her sharing with Han would have been…” Luke shuddered. “Yeah, I know exactly what they would have gotten up to and well, trying to sleep knowing that your sister and… anyway.” Luke cleaned his throat. “They’re engaged, by the way.” 

“Oh,” Din says. 

“What, did you think…” 

The helmet tilts in a way that Luke has learnt to interpret as a hard squint. 

He has to physically cover his face to hide the horrific red that blooms on his cheeks. “Um, no. Yeah, my sister and Han, not…” he trails off, pursing his lips. “Oh, just come here! You’re making this so much more difficult.” 

Din slides into the space that Luke leaves beside him. There’s enough space for them not to be pressed together too closely. Still, every muscle in Luke’s body feels like it’s tensed up.

Luke turns and looks at him for a moment. “Are you blushing under the helmet?” he asks without running the question past a single brain cell. 

Din takes his hand to his visor. “Dank ferrik,” he says. “What do you think?” 

Luke just laughs. 

—

When Luke next wakes up he isn’t reeling from a nightmare, which is a significant improvement. His bed is also roomier, so Din must have gone somewhere. Grogu is still on his chest though.

But if Din isn’t here, then— 

Grogu stirs, wriggling slightly. 

It’s fine. Luke strokes Grogu’s ear, heart rate steadying. If anything bad had happened he would have sensed it. Din is probably just with Kymir. 

The young Mandalorian is struggling to assimilate into, well, normalcy, after his experience on Mandalore. The Armourer offered to reforge his armour, though providing him with any of the covert’s resources is a no-go, unless he vows to walk the way of the Manda’lor. 

Isn’t Din the Manda’lor? Technically? 

Luke supposes he isn’t unless all of the clans formally acknowledge him as their ruler. That’s going to be a challenge. Luke would be less surprised if they united to assassinate him than if they united under his leadership, though supposedly assassinations and such cowardly tactics are dishonourable and ever since the fall of Mandalore, Mandalorians have been especially focused on adhering to their creeds.

Luke would like to understand more about how Mandalore fell, and the different Mandalorian clans, their affiliations, enemies. Everything — the stuff Leia would know from her fancy upbringing at princess school. From what he’s heard, and inferred, through his conversations with the Armourer and Bo-Katan, each clan has slightly differing accounts of what happened to fracture their people so completely. Expected, but nonetheless unhelpful. 

Choosing a side is probably the worst thing Din could do right now. 

Din needs more information, and he needs allies. And Luke has an idea for how to get a little bit of both of those things. 

“Hey, Grogu? You awake?” Luke wiggles his ear. 

Grogu sits up, as if — surprise! I was awake that whole time!

Luke smiles. “Alright. Since you’re so awake, let’s see about that lightsaber of yours.” 

After gobbling up a couple of slugs, Grogu agrees to try out some lightsaber forms. His focus is about as long as a matchstick, so Luke makes the most of it while he can.

The sea pounds against the cliff face, and sea birds circle overhead, their raucous calls filling the air. Luke shows Grogu first form.

“I think fourth form will suit you well,” Luke says, demonstrating a blocking motion with his lightsaber. “It’s the form Master Yoda used, but you’re better to master first form initially.”

Grogu matches Luke’s steps in miniature and waves his lightsaber in the air.

“You mustn’t play with the lightsaber,” Luke says. “It can be very dangerous. Didn’t Din tell you about the time he cut his leg?”

“Patu,” says Grogu. He cuts some grass with his lightsaber, and is immediately distracted again.

Luke sighs and retracts his lightsaber. He tries not to get annoyed with Grogu, because that would just upset both of them. Teaching a child at this stage of development really is a challenge. Luke finds a rock and takes up a meditative position. He can still hear Grogu’s lightsaber humming as it singes through blades of grass, and occasionally, Grogu giggles. Maybe… if he plays with it he’ll learn? Luke doesn’t have any other ideas right now so he just lets Grogu do his thing. 

If only Master Yoda were here to guide him…

“Become attached to the Mandalorian, have you, hm?” 

Luke falls off the rock. “Y-Yoda?” he exclaims, eyes wide, looking up at the old master from the grass. He glances at Grogu, still absorbed in his game, and then back at the faint blue ghost. “What are you — no!” Luke says. “I haven’t… Anyway, that doesn’t matter right now! I need your guidance on how to train Grogu, not on my love life!”

“Attachments are forbidden, are they not?” Yoda presses, both hands coming to rest on his short stick.

“But Master Yoda, as long as I don’t get obsessed with my attachments and continue to follow the Jedi path surely this is fine,” Luke says.

“Not fine!” Yoda harrumphs. He jabs a clawed finger in Luke’s direction. “Attachments lead to pain, pain leads to suffering. The path to the dark side, it is.” 

“Yoda,” Luke sighs. “I won’t turn to the dark side. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Worry about you, because worry about your father enough I did not!” 

“I won’t do what my father did because I know that it was bad.” Luke makes a face.

“Bad? Understatement, bad is! Destroyed everything the Jedi were, Vader did, because he was blinded by attachment.” 

“But Master, he was also manipulated.” 

“Manipulated, because of his attachment.” 

Luke purses his lips. “Well, I can’t fault you there, Master. But I still don’t see how that applies to my situation. There aren’t any Sith Lords trying to manipulate me.” 

“True connection to the force comes when one lets go of all attachment. Guided only by the force, you must be. Dangerous times ahead.” 

“Dangerous? But Master Yoda, the Sith are defeated.” 

“Hm! Confident, you are,” Yoda says. “How can you be so sure?”

“Master, with all due respect… Sith are tricky to detect.” 

“Terrible student, you are!” Master Yoda shakes his head. “A terrible teacher, you will make.” 

Luke frowns. “Master…” he trails off. What is Yoda trying to do here? Just criticise him? 

“Learn about the true nature of the force, you must,” Yoda says. “Vital to the future of the galaxy, it is. Explore the ancient mysteries of the Jedi you will.”

“Master, I don’t have time for that. I need to help Din—”

“Your priority is your attachment, hm?” Yoda presses. “The way of the Jedi, this is not.” 

Luke’s mouth goes dry. “But… I promised I would.” 

“Help you on your path, this knowledge will. Clear and bright, the force is, for the first time in a millennium. Miss this opportunity you must not.”

Luke sighs, pulling the grass between his fingers. “Well, where do I go?” he asks. 

“Unconvinced, you are.” Master Yoda shakes his head. “Ready for this next chapter, you are not.”

With that, the ghost of Master Yoda fades away. Luke stares at the space he left behind, unable to shake the feeling that somehow he has profoundly disappointed his old master. 

But what does Yoda want from him? Of course he doesn’t want to leave, the force is telling him to stay here and train Grogu. Luke is certain of it. Unless… he’s mistaking his attachment for the will of the force? Luke groans and buries his head in his hands. Now Yoda has sewn the seed of doubt in his mind, he can’t stop worrying that somehow this is all wrong. 

And his vision from the mythosaur lair… 

Is this path a path of suffering? One that could turn even him to the dark side? 

“Luke, you know, I really—”

Luke covers his eyes. “Ben, I’m really sorry but I don’t think I can deal with another one of you guys this early in the morning. Oh boy.” 

“I was going to say I sympathise,” Obi-Wan says. 

“Well, thanks,” Luke says. He sighs heavily as Obi-Wan sits on the rock he was meditating on before he jumped out of his skin at Yoda’s voice. 

“I was once in love with a Mandalorian as well,” Obi-Wan says, conversationally. 

Luke groans. “Can we please not talk about — wait what?” He sits up straight. “I thought attachment was forbidden.”

“It was,” Obi-Wan says. Luke searches his eyes. There is a deep, all-consuming blue that makes Luke’s heart ache. “Had she said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order to be by her side.”

“Oh…” Luke says. 

“Life is short, Luke. Cherish those you love while you can, and know that death is inevitable for all living things. The galaxy needs you, and it needs the Jedi to return to bring balance back to the force.” Obi-Wan takes his hands in his. Luke gasps at the warmth of them. “I want you to find a middle way. I was not strong enough in the force to do so, but you can. Remember that you are the Chosen One.” 

Luke’s stomach flips. “But that was… that was to defeat the Sith,” he says.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “There is so much more within you, Luke. I only wish you could see it.” 

“I…” Luke hesitates. “I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do.”

“In time, everything will become clear,” Obi-Wan says.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Well, that’s just great. But what am I supposed to do now?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “Have patience,” he says. 

“Dammit, I should’ve known.” 

—

Bo-Katan clangs her blaster against her helmet. The hall immediately falls silent, and Luke cringes at how risky that was. It could have easily misfired! At least everyone’s wearing bescar. 

“We are going to discuss what to do with these four.” Bo-Katan gestures from the throne to the four Mandalorians at her feet. They have been stripped of their helmets and armour, and their faces are twisted with anger, hands tied behind their back with a fibre-cord whip. 

Din and the Armourer stand beside her.

“Those from my covert will be banished,” the Armourer says, simply. “It was a dishonourable challenge, and disregarded all Mandalorian values.”

Bo-Katan scowls. “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?” she asks the four.

They remain silent. 

Bo-Katan shrugs. “And that settles that.”

One of the Mandalorians twists around to face her. “No it doesn’t!” she hisses. “What’s dishonourable about trying to reclaim the darksaber from an imposter? It belongs with our clan!”

“You tried to take it for yourself. Don’t try to pretend this was for anything other than selfish reasons,” Bo-Katan responds.

“Additionally,” the Armourer begins, “the darksaber originated from Clan Vizsla, not Clan Kryze. Clan Vizsla fractured into Death Watch, which fractured into the Children of the Watch. If you are concerned about the darksaber falling into the hands of outsiders, you are mistaken.” 

A hush settles over the hall at that.

“Bo-Katan was once a member of Death Watch,” the Armourer says.

Bo-Katan glares. “Yes, until Darth Maul killed Pre Vizsla.”

“But you believed in restoring the old ways, did you not?” The Armourer turns to her. “Our ideals may not be so at odds.” 

Bo-Katan clenches her jaw. “I agree that these four should be punished. But I am concerned that if we banish them they will cause further trouble for us.” 

“In the old times, such transgressions would be punishable by death,” the Armourer says. And Bo-Katan fixes her with another fierce glare. “However,” the Armourer continues, “I believe that they did not know any better. With all of our warring, we have destroyed our culture and our ways, so perhaps they do not know how to behave as true Mandalorians.” 

Bo-Katan purses her lips. “That is true.” 

“I accept any challenges for the darksaber,” Din says, suddenly. “If one of you is more worthy of the blade then I should not be in possession of it.” 

Bo-Katan sighs. “Din, you should tell them all what you want to do.”

Din steps forward. “I want to go back to Mandalore,” he says. “The mythosaur has returned to its lair in the mines. Songs of eons past foretold the mythosaur would herald a new age of Mandalorian culture.”

“And you believe that this time is now?” Bo-Katan asks. 

“Yes,” Din says. “Our people have never been more fractured, our ways so lost, and if we do not return to our home and rebuild I think we may lose what makes us Mandalorians forever.” 

“I too fear this,” says the Armourer. “I see that our clan has coped with the loss of our culture by adhering to a way that you find extreme, while your clan has lost much of your culture to the point that you are only recognisable as bounty hunters and mercenaries.” 

“I also want our children to grow up on Mandalore,” Din says. “And for it to be a place where we belong, and are safe from threats like the Empire. Mandalore should be a planet of resilience. The fact that the atmosphere is breathable and the mythosaur has returned demonstrates this. However, other clans have established themselves there, who also suffer from the destruction of the planet. When I travelled to Mandalore we discovered a boy from a clan named Clan куяαу¢.” 

Bo-Katan speaks. “We too have discovered this Clan куяαу¢.”

“The child was not allowed to leave the mines, and forced to atone for the actions of his parents who supposedly betrayed Mandalore.” 

“Perhaps they were amongst those who joined the Empire,” says the Armourer. 

“Or among those who betrayed Mandalore to the Empire,” a snide voice comes from the crowd. 

The other Mandalorians break out in whispers. 

“Enough!” Bo-Katan yells. “We have all made mistakes.”

A Mandalorian woman with braided hair steps out of the crowd. “Probably none of us more than you, though,” she says. “But we still follow, you, Bo-Katan, because we respect you, and your vision, which you seem to have lost in recent months.” She nods in Din’s direction. “This one has a vision. One strong enough to fight four warriors and win. Once, I would have only believed you were capable of such a feat with the darksaber.” 

Bo-Katan sighs. “Perhaps there comes a time when one is tired of making mistakes.” 

“This isn’t the time to be tired,” the Mandalorian says. “We still need you.” 

“Then what of the darksaber? I don’t have it. You should all just follow Din if you’re so desperate for someone to follow.” 

The woman opens her mouth to speak but Din beats her to it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Din says. “I need your help to unite the clans. I need your help with all of it.”

Bo-Katan’s lip twists. “Then why did the darksaber choose you?”

Din looks at her. “Because it’s as you said. You are tired, and it's a heavy burden. I don’t hold it against you. I don’t think it is weak that you do not want it anymore, after having wielded it and led our people twice already.” 

“And both times I failed. Why will you fare any better?” 

“Because there’s something I want to do.”

Bo-Katan breaks his gaze. “Perhaps that was my problem all along. I wanted to make it up to my sister and restore what was lost, but I had no vision for the future. I suppose that’s why the darksaber chose you,” she says bitterly. “You want Mandalore to be more than just a belated apology.”  

“Will you come with me to Mandalore?” Din asks her.

“Yes,” says Bo-Katan. 

Chapter Text

Ahsoka wakes again in darkness. She finds those familiar yellow eyes immediately. 

“You have somehow been tethered to Dathomir,” says Maul, displeased. 

Ahsoka lifts her arm and realises that there is a strange green band around her wrist, connected to a thread of magic. “Maybe it’s… to help her pull us back out?” 

“Hm, unlikely,” Maul says. 

Ahsoka’s other hand goes right through the thread. “Well I can’t break it, whatever it is.” 

“It is the least of your worries right now.” Maul looks away, his eyes narrowed. “I sense a dark presence.”

“Yeah, Ezra seems to be fighting a Sith. Could it be the one we’re looking for?”

Maul’s nose scrunches. He sits beside her, drawing one leg up to his chest. Ahsoka has noticed Maul’s fascination with his ghost legs. Presumably, since he is dead, and lower half is also, they were able to rejoin in the living force. She will admit that it is a little strange, though. 

“He would be dead if it was,” Maul says eventually.

“Then… how powerful are we talking?”

“Somebody was interested in the deathsaber. We know this,” Maul begins. “That weapon is fuel for a Sith because of the hatred stored within it. I do not believe this sort of… power… is unlike the night sister magic.”

Ahsoka frowns. “Maul, the night sisters can’t be in league with the Empire.”

“Think about it.” His eyes narrow. “Who is the most powerful dark-sider after Darth Sidious? Mother was always trying to become more powerful.”

“You call her ‘mother’ as well?”

“Of course I do,” Maul snaps. “She is my mother.”

“Wait, she’s your actual—”

“This doesn’t matter!” he says. “The point is that Mother could be using you.” Maul makes a complicated expression, one that twists the black and red pattern on his forehead. “You should recover Ezra and then go.”

“In any other circumstance, I would, but it seems like the night sisters know something about the shift in the force. I have to at least find out,” Ahsoka says.

“Fine, suit yourself,” Maul growls. “Just keep me out of it.” 

Ahsoka takes a deep breath as the darkness dissipates. She doubts she’ll be able to keep Maul out of this one. 

—

Ezra is not the cheeky, lanky teenager Ahsoka remembers. His face is in shadow initially, so Ahsoka doesn’t notice, but then she does. And oh. That’s different. 

Ezra handles the lightning weapon with polished accuracy, face as hard as stone, the purple light reflecting off his pupils like sparks. That is, until he spots them.

“Wha— Ahsoka!” Ezra exclaims. He looks puzzled, his night sister companion distracting the red-lightsaber-wielding enemy. When he sees Sabine his face breaks into a huge grin. “Sabine! Sabine, it’s you!”

“Yeah, it’s me, idiot!” Sabine’s voice breaks. She crashes into him with a hug that sends them both off balance. "Why the hell were you gone for so long?” she yells, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Kriff, your hair!” She picks up the long, loose braid from Ezra’s shoulder. 

“It grew!” Ezra beams. 

“Well, duh!” Sabine lets it go and pats his shoulders. “And what’s with the face tattoos? I mean, I like them, but…” She looks behind him, where the Sith and night sister are locked in fierce combat. “I’d love to catch up, but what’s going on?” 

“Oh! That’s Circe.” He points to the night sister. “She’s with me. That other girl isn’t, I think she’s a Sith apprentice maybe. Hey, Ahsoka! Wha’dya think?” 

Ahsoka places a hand on Ezra's shoulder. “I think your companion is in trouble. Once the enemy is taken care of, we can discuss our theories.” She smiles. “And there is a lot we need to talk about.” 

Ezra nods quickly. “Yep, okay. I’ll—”

“Here.” Sabine tosses him his lightsaber. 

Ezra catches it with wide eyes. “You kept it safe.”

“Of course I did. It…” Her face screws up. “It’s a good lightsaber!”

Ezra’s face softens. “Thanks, Sabine,” he says. “I am so—”

“C’mon, not now.” Sabine’s words catch in her through and she punches his shoulder lightly. “Get in there and do your Jedi stuff.” 

Ahsoka doesn’t have any idea where they are. A blackened ruin (a temple?) sits on a rocky hill not far away, and she spots a ship that radiates a coldness which screams Sith further down the incline. The sky is purple, merging into navy, and a burnt orange sun sinks below the horizon. She’s never been on a planet like this before, as far as she can remember. The air is dry, but strangely cool; charged with energy from the fight. 

The Sith they face can’t be much older than Ezra. Her red-rimmed eyes burn with fury, and her blonde hair is cut raggedly as though done in a frenzied rage with kitchen scissors. All Ahsoka can think is that here’s another poor girl the Jedi have failed. 

But right now, Ahsoka must determine her motives. 

The age-old question.

Is this the apprentice, or the master?

Leia’s lightsaber sears the air as she ignites it, and Ahsoka’s stomach clenches. Her eyes flick over the blade as she runs to join Ezra and the night sister, Circe, in the fight. She sees an opening and summersaults to intercept a blow aimed at Circe’s left arm. 

The night sister fights with the same lightning weapon that Ezra just tossed aside in favour of his lightsaber, though she is not as skilled as Ezra. Her eyes widen as she recognises that Ahsoka is a Jedi.

Sort of. 

The Sith screams and jumps backwards. “Another one?” she yells. “Another one? Why are there more of you? I’m just going to kill you, you know!” 

“I doubt that,” Ahsoka says. She blocks an ill-timed attack with Leia’s saber, and the Sith’s eyes flash yellow. “You are poorly trained, relying solely on rage to tap into the force. Your master must be displeased.” 

It’s not particularly Jedi to provoke your opponent, though it does strike Ahsoka that Obi-Wan frequently employed this tactic. And it definitely worked.

“Shut up!”

“You are being used,” Ahsoka says.

The girl smirks. “You’re wrong.” 

Momentarily stunned by the malice which twists the girl’s face, the Sith manages to kick her knee, which causes Ahsoka’s leg to seize up in pain.

“Don’t get distracted, Snips!”

Ahsoka hisses out a breath and drives the girl back with a twirl of her wrist. She glares at the Sith, then notices it. Ahsoka doesn’t let it distract her, she conceals the knowledge carefully on her face, but on the inside, she’s fearful.

Mayan has run to the Sith’s ship. She must think she can find something to help them figure out her motives. Her padawan is small and lithe enough not to be noticed, and she has learnt to conceal her presence in the force so that she is little more than a gentle breeze passing by. 

Ahsoka needs to keep the Sith busy until Mayan returns. 

Ezra appears by her side and points his lightsaber at the Sith. 

She’s fast, but Ezra’s is faster. There’s something sort of… alien about his movements. Did he learn that when he was missing? Did Thrawn teach him how to fight like that? His attacks are precise, and Ahsoka notes that the fighting style seems more attuned to hand-to-hand combat — lightning-fast blows that are carefully calculated. Did Ezra adapt whatever he learnt to lightsaber combat? He’s invented an entirely new lightsaber form. 

Blaster fire zings over her shoulder, narrowly missing the Sith’s chest. Sabine is cautiously aiding from the sidelines. Their enemy is too fast and the fight too crowded for her to aid them in close combat without the force to help her avoid getting hit by the Sith’s furious attacks. 

There is an ominous pressure at her side where the deathsaber is tucked securely into the folds of her cloak. The Sith’s eyes snap towards Ahsoka immediately. 

Interesting. 

Ahsoka spins out of the way of her red saber. With a sweep of her leg, she sends the Sith to the ground, ribs cracking. 

“Tell me what you felt,” Ahsoka says. 

The Sith glares. Her lightsaber was knocked from her grip and has rolled out of reach.

Leia’s lightsaber casts a blue glow over the Sith’s neck. Ahsoka reaches into her cloak and pulls out the darksaber, which feels like ice burning her hands. The Sith’s breath hitches. 

“Is this what you’re after?” Ahsoka narrows her eyes, and reaches towards the girl with two fingers from the hilt of her lightsaber. Her mind betrays her desire easily — it slips from her mind like water in her hands. 

“There is a lightsaber that will be a powerful weapon for you, my young apprentice…”

A girl, weak and shivering, with cuts and bruises all over her face and body.

“Is it not unfair, that you suffer while they live a life of luxury that they do not deserve?”

Another night chased by fearsome animals through back streets of a city, fighting for every morsel of food tossed from the mouthwatering restaurants. 

“I will teach you to become strong.” 

Ahsoka’s heart races. A coldness creeps over her back, curling up her neck. Every muscle in her body tenses and her veins turn to ice. 

It’s the same.

She hardly notices Ezra shoving her out of the way of a red lightsaber igniting, aimed at her chest.

(When did she retrieve her lightsaber?)

Different voice, same careful manipulation. 

But who is their enemy? 

Who is the Sith master who can poison minds without even physically being there?

“I can offer you power… more power than you can possibly imagine. You must discover the secret temple of Dathomir. Tell me where the night sister magic is strongest!”

It’s going to happen again. 

Anakin. 

It’s going to be Anakin all over again.

—

“Did you ever imagine what your padawan would be like?” 

Anakin wrinkles his nose. He looks at her, a mixture of expressions on his face. “Well, not really. I never really thought I’d have a padawan — no offence.”

“None taken.” Ahsoka huffs. “I think about it, though.”

Anakin chuckles. “Do you wonder if you’ll be as great a master as me?”

“I wonder if I’ll be a good master,” Ahsoka says. She raises an eyebrow. “And if… it’ll be like you and me.” 

Anakin hums thoughtfully. “It might be totally different.” He gestures between them casually. “It’s not the same between us as it is between me and Obi-Wan.” 

“I guess.” She swings her legs on the temple wall. Above them, ships fly overhead in the many crisscrossing lanes in the sky that were typical of Coruscant back then. 

“You don’t need to wonder about the future,” Anakin says. “Just focus on the here and now. There might come a time when I’m not by your side anymore, and you’re going to have to build a relationship with your padawan. Maybe it’ll be like ours, maybe it won’t. Just don’t try to force things to be the way you want them to be.” 

“Don’t you always do that?”

Anakin shakes his head. “There’s a difference. There are some things you just have to accept and other things you have to do everything in your power to fight against. What use are Jedi who just sit around and accept that things are the way they are? You know I don’t like the council’s stance on the war. That’s not something I can change, but I’m still gonna try.” 

“Sure,” Ahsoka says.

Anakin looks at her with a frown. “Don’t ever give up on what you feel is right. Jedi are supposed to let go of feelings like that, but I think our desire to do good is what makes us Jedi.”

Ahsoka sucks in a breath. “What if I miss you?” she asks. “What if you die and I miss you? What am I supposed to do then?”

Anakin nudges her shoulder. “You’ll be strong. I don’t know how much I’ve taught you, Snips, but I know for sure that I didn’t teach you that. You’ve always been strong, so you’d be fine. Everything — losing people, having a padawan, becoming a Jedi — you’ll be totally fine. So stop worrying. You’re gonna be one of the greatest Jedi ever. No, seriously! I can tell. I trained you, after all.” 

—

Ahsoka was fine. 

Eventually. 

Okay, it took a while to be fine, after everything that happened. She may be Ahsoka Tano, apprentice of Anakin Skywalker, Jedi (sort of) but quite honestly, after everything she’s been through, she hurts sometimes because of it. But when she hurts, she remembers Anakin; she thinks of Obi-Wan, Plo-Koon, the clones, and all the others. And now she thinks of Luke and Leia too. Anakin’s children, his beautiful, wonderful children, strong and bright in the force, and she knows that he would be (that he is) so proud of them. Ahsoka is so proud of them and she loves them because she’s sort of their aunt — because Anakin was her brother, and Obi-Wan too.

Through all of it, she was strong, and she was alright, and although having Mayan as an apprentice makes her stomach twist with nervousness whenever the girl is out of her sight, she takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she is Ahsoka Tano and she is strong.

And it’s the same now. 

Ahsoka is strong because of the people she has loved and lost, and because of the people she loves who are still with her in this universe. 

But it’s not just that. It’s not just about the people. It’s about her, what she can do, and how she can do good.

There is so much good still to be done in the galaxy, and she must not lose sight of that, no matter what. But sometimes, there is only so much she can do. Some people cannot be saved.

The young night sister has the Sith pinned down. She jabs one finger to her chest and then touches the Sith’s forehead. The girl’s eyes go wide. She gasps as her eyes seal over with luminescent green smoke hissing out of every pore in her body. 

Ahsoka stumbles to her feet. “Stop! What are you doing?”

Ezra grips her arm. “We can’t stop them, Ahsoka.” He lowers his head. “It’s what they’ve been trying to do this whole time. The night sisters need life energy of powerful force users to protect themselves.”

“From what?” Ahsoka yells. She spins around to face him. “What could justify this? Is this what you did to Gerrera? This is gruesome murder, Ezra!”

“I couldn’t stop them!” Ezra cries. “They think Palpatine is going to use a temple on Dathomir to resurrect himself. If they don’t have enough power to keep it sealed then everything we fought for is in vain. Believe me when I say I didn’t want to do this,” he whispers. “I wish there was another way.”

Ahsoka’s knuckles whiten around Leia’s lightsaber. “There is always another way.” 

Ezra shakes his head. “Not this time,” he says. “Mother Talzin foresaw that we only had until your arrival to strengthen the temple. I promised I would do everything in my power to help her until then."

Her stomach twists. “How can Palpatine’s ghost…”

“He’s connected to Dathomir through Maul,” Ezra says.

Ahsoka’s blood goes cold. 

Chapter Text

Bo-Katan’s eyes are fixed on the blue flame. Her ears ring with the clang of bescar and her skin crawls with the heat of the forge. 

“You are here again,” the Armourer says. “Do you need me to forge something?” 

“No,” says Bo-Katan. “You’re the only one here who talks any sense.” 

“You say this even though my words upset you.”

“The truth can be difficult.”

The Armourer pauses her work. “Would you like to join our—”

“No,” Bo-Katan says. She clears her throat. “No. I like what you said, but I’m not interested in following your creed. It is too extreme.”

“It is the way of the Manda’lor.”

“It’s going to break us apart,” Bo-Katan mutters. “You know he won’t be able to adhere to it. The other clans find it unnerving and they will refuse to pledge their loyalty to him. You and I both know how this is going to end.” She stretches. “Once he is defeated, I can take the darksaber back.” 

“Din Djarin will not lose his resolve.” 

Bo-Katan shakes her head with a smirk. “His resolve is why he will break his creed. This will go one of two ways. Either he loses the darksaber because his creed dooms him to fail, or he loses his creed and everyone’s happy.” She gestures to the Armourer. “Apart from you.” 

“The creed is what makes us Mandalorian,” the Armourer says. She picks up her tools and begins her work again. “Without it, I fear we would be lost.” 

“But that’s what it is,” Bo-Katan says. “Fear of being lost, of not being Mandalorian anymore. After we lost our home world, adhering to a strict doctrine was your people’s way of not losing sight of who they were.”

“This is the way,” says the Armourer. 

—

The castle is like the tunnels in many ways. Long, winding corridors lead into smaller rooms, shafts of light pick up dust particles, shifted by the slightest movement in the air of people moving to and fro. But there are differences. Windows. Sunlight. 

Kymir had never seen the sun before. It’s a strange bright stone that moves from one end of the sky to the other, but if he looks at it for too long, his eyes hurt and dark blotches appear in his vision.

“тιαи'ναιι αт?” he asks quietly, with a tug to Din’s tattered cape.

“I’m taking you to meet someone who will soon join the covert,” Din says. 

The gravel from the path crunches underfoot as they descend the slope to the shore. Kymir shields his face with his hand, eyes stinging from the light. Grogu is asleep in a bag on Din’s hip.

Din watches him out of the side of his visor. “Are you happy here?” he asks. 

Kymir frowns.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You can understand basic quite well, but you don’t speak it,” he says. “Is that a choice?”

Kymir is silent for a minute, his eyes following the ground.

Din sighs. “If it helps, I’m glad we took you back with us. I hope you and Ragnar can be friends.” They reach the beach, and Kymir strains his eyes to make out the group of bescar-clad figures at the shore. “This covert gave me a home,” Din says. Kymir looks at the black visor. “I thought that you would want that as well, but I was wrong. Your clan did not treat you well, and I…” his voice falters, “I cannot promise that mine will treat you better. It’s been hard for our people. I know that isn’t an excuse for how they raised us, but I believe that my covert are good people. I hope you will be able to trust them and see them as your family, as I do.”

Kymir looks at him.

“Did you get all of that?”

His lip turns up slightly in the smallest smile.

“Okay, good.” Din breathes in relief. 

Kymir pushes his dark hair out of his face to put his helmet on. Din watches him, helmet blank, but by the looseness of his shoulders, his posture gives off a relaxed air. Kymir points towards the shoreline.

Paz is with Ragnar, teaching him to fire a fibre-cord whip to tangle driftwood in the sea. 

“Can Kymir join in?” Din asks.

Paz gets to his feet slowly. He turns his helmet partially to face Din, and glances at Kymir. “Is he not a stranger?”

“He is a foundling.” 

“Of our covert?” 

“Of… my clan.”

Paz’s head tilt gives the impression of eyes narrowing behind the visor. He shifts his weight slightly. “Clan Din? That’s a joke. You’re a clan of three.”

Kymir holds up four fingers. Paz’s shoulders fall. 

“An apostate, a stray, a small green alien and a meddling Jedi,” he says.

“You mean the Manda’lor, two foundlings, and a Jedi master.” 

“That’s what I said.” Din’s armour clangs as Paz knocks him in the chest. He laughs. “Still full of spunk, even after everything you’ve done. You’re no leader, Din Djarin. What the kriff are you doing?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying, but they’re going with me to Mandalore anyway.”

“I’d watch your back if I were you.” 

Din tenses. 

“Your Jedi can’t help you on Mandalore. Mandalorians were made to fight Jedi. You know how it would end.” 

Din clenches his fist. The light dances over his armour as he shifts to the edge of a fighting stance.

“You know, that sword was forged by my ancestor.” 

“Try it,” Din snaps.

Paz hesitates, as though frozen by the tone of his voice, and remains where he stands.

The sound of a fibre-cord whip snaps the tension from the air. The two boys have caught a piece of wood and are hauling it on to the sand, their laughter ringing out across the beach. 

“I hear things,” Paz warns. “You should watch your back.” 

“I know what it means to carry this blade.” 

Paz tilts his helmet. “Do you?”

Din breathes slowly. “It means that everyone is watching me. They want to know whether or not I’m cut out to be their leader, and if I’m not, they’ll kill me.” 

Paz slams a hand onto his shoulder. Din flinches, hand twitching above his holster. “And if you are,” Paz says, “they’ll die for you.” 

—

When Leia finally calls him, it isn’t what Luke expects. The message is recorded, and Luke sits cross-legged on the floor of his room late in the night to watch the blue transparent figure of his sister in those familiar white robes that throw him years into the past. 

“We found this Thrawn person. My honest opinion is that he has some sort of hidden agenda but anyway, Ahsoka, Mayan and Sabine went to Dathomir to search for Ezra. Did I mention that we went through some sort of magical portal? Ahsoka says that the night sisters on Dathomir use magic from the dark side of the force. I don’t know if that’s something you’ve heard of. 

“Luke, I need you to come back with me to Coruscant. The New Republic doesn’t like that you’ve just wandered off somewhere — they want you to be here to discourage any potential threats. I know what you’re going to say, that the role of a Jedi extends beyond one group of people, but we both know how uneasy many of the senators still are about you. It’s going to take some time before the galaxy is ready to embrace the Jedi Order again but to do that I need you here, working side by side with us. Please think about it, Luke. I’m sorry I couldn’t call, or speak to you in person. Everything is so busy here. I think the New Republic has bitten off far too much at too early a stage… but there’s little I can do about it.

“There's something else I want to talk to you about... but I want to speak to you in person,” Leia says. “Take care, and think about what I said, okay?” 

—

“Din, I said I’d train you with the darksaber, not with sticks…” Luke sends him a puzzled look and moves his lightsaber to the side. Din is still facing him with a wooden training sword. 

“The balance is perfect,” Din says, failing to answer the question.

“Yes, but,” Luke begins, “how is this going to help? You know how to use a sword already.” 

“The darksaber doesn’t listen to me in training. The only time it responded to me was when my life was in danger, and we can’t replicate that.”

Luke shakes his head. He retracts his lightsaber and attaches it to his belt, then takes up a meditative position on the floor, facing away from Din. 

Din stands there for a moment. “Did I do something?” he asks.

Luke frowns. “Yeah, you figured it all out on your own. I helped you a little with your technique but mastering the darksaber was all you.” 

“It was because of you,” Din says. “You might not think it was, but…”

“If you no longer need me, I should go.” Luke bites the bullet and says it outright, though his chest constricts as he does. “My sister wants me back on Coruscant, and the ghost of my former Jedi master thinks I’m failing somehow by being here.” He sighs. “I just…” 

“Come with me to Mandalore,” Din says.

“But I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.” 

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.” Luke glances at him from over his shoulder. “But I can’t,” he says. “I’m a Jedi, I have to follow the will of the force.” 

Din is silent for a long time, and Luke wonders if the conversation is over. But finally, he speaks. 

“I understand.”

Luke huffs dubiously. “Really?” 

“Yes,” Din says. “I know what it’s like to be told that something that feels right is somehow wrong.”

Luke’s stomach twists. Nothing feels right. Nothing. He let the force guide him here and now the force is telling him it’s time to leave. What if Din and Grogu still need him? He’s almost certain they do. But the galaxy needs him too. Perhaps his responsibilities lie elsewhere, maybe he got caught up in his emotions and mistook this for being the right thing. The problem is, Luke doesn’t know. The uncertainty makes him afraid. (Jedi should not be afraid.) He remembers his vision in the mythosaur lair and his throat tightens until he can barely speak. (Fear clouds one’s judgement.)

“I can’t choose you,” Luke whispers, and a laugh catches in his through. “I can never choose you. Can you really tell me you understand that?”

Din brings a hand up to his helmet. “I don’t know.” 

Luke stands up and catches his wrist. “Don’t,” he says. “I can’t let you give up your creed for me when I wouldn’t do the same for you.”

Din’s hand falls. Luke stares into the dark visor, feeling further from his eyes than ever. 

Obi-Wan’s words echo in his head. “Had she said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order to be by her side.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke says and lets go of his wrist. He steps back, gaze falling to the floor. 

If he wasn’t among the last Jedi… if the fate of the galaxy didn’t rest on his shoulders… 

But the Jedi are gone. Palpatine and Vader made sure of that. 

And now Luke has to spend his life paying for his father’s mistakes. 

—

It’s barely noticeable at first. The darkness. But gradually, it finds a way to creep in. The simplest things send him into an explosion of fury, his mind can’t keep up with the things other people are telling him. 

He speaks to his mother. She soothes him.

Then the noise shifts, moulds into something that is almost words. Until it is words. Telling him things. He imagines cold hands wrapping around her throat and squeezing, and he is terrified that he is a monster. 

The fear is like static in the back of Luke’s mind, like a connection millimetres from severing. He doesn’t understand who it is, or what is happening, but the shift in the force pulls him towards it regardless. 

But he will not be able to save him. 

—

Grogu’s claws dig into his forearm.

“Ow,” Luke exclaims. “Grogu, I need to pack my things. If you have to climb all over me could you maybe not scratch me?” 

Grogu’s breathing comes loud, like a sequence of annoyed huffs. He peeks over Luke’s shoulder and levitates his shirt out of reach.

“Grogu.” Luke reaches behind his back and pries the little green child from his back with some difficulty. “I know you’re upset, but I need to go to Coruscant.” 

A lightsaber hits him in the shoulder. 

“Grogu, that’s dangerous.” Luke sighs. “I thought you weren’t into training. Now you’re sad I’m leaving?” 

“Patu,” says Grogu. His ears sink to his shoulders, and he peers up and Luke with wide, hopeful eyes. 

“Din isn’t coming,” Luke says, and Grogu shrinks back a little. “I could take you with me, and continue your training, but you would miss him greatly.” 

“He’s staying.”

Luke’s mouth goes dry. He turns to Din, standing in the doorway. 

“Where I go, he goes. I promised him.”

Luke blinks. “He would be safe with me.” 

“Would he be loved?” Din asks coldly. 

Luke breathes sharply. “Love and compassion are the Jedi way.”

“But not family,” Din says.

“Din.”

 “What?”

Luke shakes his head numbly. “I’m leaving,” he says, and slings his bag over his shoulder. 

Din doesn’t move aside at the doorway - he catches his hand instead. “I want you to come with me to Mandalore,” he says, voice strained. 

“I told you I can’t!” Luke wrenches his arm away. “I just can’t okay?” He closes his eyes. “I hope everything goes well.”

“I thought you wanted to make a stand against the Empire,” Din tries. 

“I do.” 

“I’m only doing this because of what you said.” 

A half-truth.

“That’s good,” Luke says. “I’m glad I inspired you.” 

Din reaches out to him again. “It’s for you as well. Because of what we talked about.” His voice softens. “When you are ready, come to Mandalore, and build your temple there.” 

Luke’s eyes find his visor, but again, he can’t see him.

“Your people will be safe there, as will mine. I will make sure of it.”

As quickly as it came, the fear is gone. Luke exhales, and the tenseness in his body relents finally, and a warmth envelopes him. So that’s why. He hides the faintest edge of a smile by turning his head away. “Thank you,” he says, and he is sure their eyes meet. “Don’t let them tell you that you don’t deserve that sword. You do — I knew from the moment I saw you.” 

Chapter Text

“I got R2 to download all the data she had in her ship,” Mayan says. “Can we look at it back on Dathomir?”

Ezra shakes his head. “It’s no use.” He grimaces. “They’re still living in the dark ages. No computers. Juuuust creepy witch magic.” 

“There are other ways of obtaining secrets,” Circe hisses. She nudges Ezra out of the way and crouches at the control panel, then she mutters in a strange tongue, eyes flickering shut.

“What’s she doing?” Sabine asks, narrowing her eyes.

Ezra shrugs. “Witchery. Anyway, you said you needed to make a lightsaber, right?” he asks Mayan.

Sabine is still not satisfied, but she crosses her arms and allows Ezra to focus his attention on Mayan for now.

“I found this,” Mayan says softly and drops the white kyber crystal into his hand.

Ezra’s eyes widen in amazement. “Wow, nice crystal. Okay, let’s use this.” He raises his hand and the electric weapon he used before hovers in the air. Then, suddenly, a pulse of energy causes the pieces to fly apart, and the weapon deconstructs in a flurry of sparks. 

Ahsoka swallows the sick feeling in her stomach and raises an eyebrow. “That’s… not something Kanan taught you,” she manages. 

“Nope.” Ezra smiles. “I had to get creative.”

“With Thrawn,” Sabine states.

“Yeah, with Thrawn,” Ezra says. He looks at Sabine. “You know, he’s actually—” 

Sabine raises a hand. “Don’t even start, I don’t wanna hear it. He’s a cold-hearted military commander and a murderer.” 

“Um, okay. Well, I’ve murdered people. With the night sisters, and when I purrgil-ed the ship over a hundred people died,” he says as if talking about it is the most natural thing in the world. But then his voice lowers. “Thrawn and I were the only ones who…” He trails off. “He was pretty upset I killed his entire crew... I figured we were even after that.” 

“So, what? You’re okay with him now?” Sabine exclaims. “Ezra!”

“I can’t explain everything, but I can promise that Thrawn will act in his own interest. And right now, our goals align.”

Before Sabine can cut in again, Ahsoka asks, “And what are Thrawn’s goals?” 

Ezra’s mouth twitches. He screws two pieces of metal together. “The same as mine.” 

Ahsoka frowns. “How… I don’t understand.” 

“Yeah, just go with it, okay? If you can trust me, you can… actually, I still wouldn’t trust him — I mean, I can trust him, because he knows me, and we had a whole adventure together and stuff, which was a great and challenging bonding experience, but you guys should watch out. Just follow my lead and you probably won’t end up as collateral damage.” 

Sabine chokes. “Collateral damage?” 

“Well, you guys don’t qualify as Thrawn’s ‘people’. You’re nothing more than assets to him.” 

“Nice,” Ahsoka says dryly. “Then, to what extent is he pulling the strings in all this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ezra says. “I haven’t seen him since I opened the world between worlds and we were separated. Didn’t you say you spoke to him? Did he not say that?”

“I honestly didn’t believe him. He said he was looking for you, though.” 

“Okay, hm…” Ezra’s eyebrows furrow and the blue tattoos on his forehead knit together. “That could be a problem. I think we should—”

“We are not going on board a star cruiser,” Sabine snaps. “Especially not to speak to Thrawn. Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to tell you that doesn’t risk you getting captured or killed.” 

Ezra sighs. “I bet it has to do with Palpatine.” 

“Explain,” says Ahsoka.

“Well…” Ezra adjusts one of the metal cogs. “Thrawn is currently heir to what’s left of the Empire. I think we all agree that Palps was bad news for the Empire, and the galaxy in general, being a Sith Lord and whatnot. The Death Star was endorsed by him. Thrawn hated it because it was a stupid idea that was going to waste people’s lives and resources, and there was no way it would… help Thrawn. Anyway, if Palpatine stays dead, Thrawn gets the Empire.” 

“You want us to help you make Thrawn leader of the Empire?”

“Yeah! And it shouldn’t be too hard. We just need to make sure Palpatine never gains a connection to Dathomir like Mother Talzin predicted to resurrect himself with night sister magic.” 

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. This is it — the time to come clean about the thing she hoped to never have to speak of. She tries to steady her nerves. “I think we might be too late,” she says. “I have something I need to tell you all.” 

—

“You what?” Sabine yells.

Ezra sits back, resting on both hands, a mess of lightsaber construction strewn around him. “So, he just… sits there, in your mind.” 

“I don’t think it’s in my mind. It’s… part of the force.”

“That’s…” Sabine shakes her head. “Weird and creepy! How could you listen to him? Do you talk to him and stuff? What if he’s manipulating you? Maybe he led you here.” 

Ahsoka feels heat rush over her. “I…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ezra says. His eyes soften in Ahsoka’s direction. “Maul is tricky, but from what you described, I don’t think he’s a threat right now. If anything, I’m amazed you guys could work together.” 

Strange, Ahsoka thinks. He’s really grown up.

“Actually,” Ezra’s voice becomes wistful. “Maybe I’m not surprised… he was always…” He shakes his head. 

“Always what?” 

“Sad?” Ezra squints. “I mean, somehow, I knew he would look out for me. Sure, other people were just lightsaber food, but he wanted me as his apprentice for more friendly reasons.” 

“Friendly. Reasons,” Sabine grits out.

“I still hate him for blinding Kanan though!” Ezra groans. “Ugh, people are so confusing. I just remember, after all of it, I sort of felt bad for him.” 

Ahsoka’s eyes unfocus. “That’s how Master Obi-Wan felt,” she says. 

“Then he was a perfect Jedi.” Ezra shrugs. 

“He was.” 

“Anyway, if Palpatine might have found Dathomir, we need to get back asap with the temple key. It’s crazy, but it can lock Dathomir, so that everyone with night sister blood is kept safe inside, while everyone else is locked out.”

“But wait. Doesn’t that mean…” Ahsoka glances at the tattoos.

Ezra’s jaw tightens. “Yeah, it means I’m stuck on Dathomir. Forever.” 

“Or at least until we get rid of Palpatine’s force ghost,” Ahsoka assures him.

“Who knows if we can do that?” Ezra sighs. “It might be impossible. But if it’s our only choice, I’ll do it.” He smiles. “The night sisters aren’t so bad. Circe is pretty nice!” 

“Ezra, you…” Sabine’s face tightens. “You can’t, you already sacrificed yourself for us before. I don’t want to lose you again.” 

“I’m sorry, Sabine,” Ezra says. “But Jedi duties come first.” He looks at his hand. “If this is what it takes to keep everyone safe, I’d sacrifice myself a thousand times over.” 

And he would. Ahsoka can sense it, and it’s visible in his eyes — the heaviness, resoluteness. Ezra had already accepted this path may be their only choice right from the beginning. 

“There’s another way,” Mayan says. She looks at Ahsoka. “I think I know another way, for how to keep the darkness out. I saw it on the wall paintings.”

R2 whistles and whirls his head around. The display of the images from the cave on Lothal is flung across the room in blue light until it lands by the entranceway, the mysterious pictures suspended in mid-air.

“Okay… what do you think you know from this?” Ahsoka asks, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Mayan bites her lip. She points at the depictions of shooting stars. “I’ve seen this before, back home. These kinds of drawings are everywhere in the caves and on cliffs. The stories say that our people came from the stars and that we were the children of the universe. I thought they were just stories, but then I remembered that our history goes back really far, and ever since I learnt about the force I’ve been wondering if there might be some truth in it. I think we must be a very ancient species, but I don’t know if our connection to the universe still exists like it’s shown in the pictures…

“But if it is true, these are the people who walk the sky, and supposedly we taught them things about the universe. Maybe we taught them about the force? We called them sky-walkers, and—”

“Skywalker,” Ahsoka echoes, unable to hide her surprise.

“Sky-walkers,” Ezra muses. “I always thought that was a funny coincidence.” 

Mayan tilts her head, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Oh,” Ezra smiles, “it’s just, I met people like that on my adventures with Thrawn. Your theory is definitely sound. It’s possible, based on what you’ve said, that your people were the first force users and you called the people you taught sky-walkers.”

“How do you think this can help us?” Ahsoka asks.

“It means that the force is aware of itself. It’s always shifting, moving around, like the edges of the picture are with the swirling dark and light. It’s just that in this centre part, the galaxy, the dark and light became extremely separate, and became, um…”

“Like, dipoles?” Ezra fills in.

Mayan makes a gesture of confusion. 

“It’s chemistry!” Ezra explains.

Sabine rolls her eyes. “How do you know chemistry?”

“Well, on my space adventures, Thrawn decided that I had an inadequate education, thus began the most gruelling four years of my life. Anyway, atoms do this, kind of. From what I remember, they form weak bonds with each other based on the movement of electrons. The middle part of the atom is positive because of the protons. Sometimes, the negative electrons will be on the other side of the atom, which creates a strong negative charge on one side, which attracted to the positive charge of the protons in another atom, because its electrons have gone to the other side, so they bond together!” Ezra scratches his head. “It’s the same idea, but I’m not entirely sure how it ties into the force.”

Ahsoka folds her arms thoughtfully. “Let’s say the dark side is a negative charge, and the light is positive. If your idea is correct, then in the galaxy the charges became extremely strong for some reason, and most of the positive charge collected in a big… blob, along with most of the negative charge. Because the mass of positive and negative is so large, their bonds are really strong, which…” Ahsoka’s eyes widen. “Binds the galaxy together.”

“Wow!” Ezra exclaims. “Chemistry is so great! The force is just chemistry!”

“I think this borders on physics, but yeah,” Sabine agrees. “Pretty cool. How does this help us destroy Palpatine?” 

“Look at this picture,” Mayan says.

The image shows a figure surrounded by swirling darkness.

“That’s a big cloud,” says Ezra.

“Yeah, really big,” agrees Sabine.

“That person has a lot of negative, dark-side energy,” Ahsoka surmises.

“Which means that they’ll attract a large amount of positive energy, right?” Mayan says. She traces her finger along the image to point out another depiction. “The negative and positive energy tends to get all bunched together in their respective groups because the opposite charges are so strong. In this picture, the dark energy has gotten really big and the positive energy is sort of floating around the outside, pushed out of the way. It's like their goal in the galaxy is to be as big as possible.” 

“Even breeds evil.” Ezra nods in agreement. 

“Like how Palpatine destroyed the Jedi order,” Ahsoka says, “and turned Anakin to the dark side. His connection to the light side had weakened, meaning he was easy to corrupt. With such powerful darkness, it’s no wonder the light of the Jedi was snuffed out as well — not to mention the Jedi order losing sight of their way, and maybe even contributing to that darkness themselves.” 

“But where did the light go?” Ezra asks. “Was it destroyed, or just moved out of the way?” 

Mayan looks at Ahsoka heavily. “From what the pictures show, it would have been destroyed, and returned to outside the galaxy.” 

“But that is unbalanced,” Ahsoka says.

“Right, so does the light get pulled back out again?” Ezra asks.

Mayan nods. “It has to, otherwise the galaxy would fall apart. Light is being drawn because it’s attracted by a large amount of negative energy. So this figure here, surrounded by darkness, will have the same amount of light trying to get rid of it.”

“The blobs are too big,” Ezra says suddenly. “That’s the whole problem, right? There’s a huge amount of evil concentrated around Palpatine, but the light is all broken and fractured. And that’s the complete wrong way around! If the darkness is meant to be electrons, they’re the ones that should be whizzing around, not the protons…”

“Okay, Chemistry nerd. What does that actually mean?” Sabine says.

“Palpatine inverted the galaxy?” Ezra muses.

“He flipped it inside out,” Ahsoka says. “Kriff, how do we fix it?”

“We need really big light blobs,” Ezra says. “We’re not big enough! There are only two Jedi left, three, if you count Mayan.”

“Five, if you count Luke and Grogu,” Ahsoka says.

Ezra’s eyes widen. “Woah, what? Who are they?” 

“Grogu is very young, he’s Yoda’s species,” Ahsoka explains.

“Baby Yoda, aww!” 

Ahsoka smiles. “And Luke is…” she turns to Mayan. “Luke Skywalker.”

Ezra gapes for a moment, then his face becomes serious. “Maybe you should try explaining all of this to him,” he says to Mayan. “If he’s a sky-walker… maybe he can figure out how to make a really, really big light blob to recalibrate the galaxy.”

“I mean... it’s worth a shot,” Ahsoka says somewhat dubiously. “We should investigate further, though. So far, we only understand some of the theories behind this that might be useful. Is there any way to learn more?” 

“I…” Mayan hesitates. Her cloak bunches around her shoulder. “I’d have to go home to see the pictures there.”

Ahsoka’s heart aches at the distress that burrows into her face. “Mayan… I have to ask, why did your people try to purge their force users?”

“That’s the thing.” Mayan shakes her head. “I don’t know. I just knew I had to get out of there with you, or something terrible would happen to me.”

Circe is finished with her analysis of the Sith’s ship. Her magic ebbs away like a green blur receding from the edges of Ahsoka’s vision. 

“The manipulator’s influence has left a trail to them,” she rasps. “It will be possible to follow it. I must speak with Mother and conduct a special ritual.” 

“Do you have any idea where it leads yet?” Ezra asks. 

“It is not too far. However, it is not a usual trail. The darkness is far more poignant than I have seen before, and the destination feels… incomplete.” 

“The dark side is difficult to see,” Ahsoka says, echoing Master Yoda. “Thank you for your help.”

Circe bows her head. Her dark eyes flicker upwards like black beetles to meet Ahsoka’s. “Your connection to the night brother, Maul, has both led you to the apprentice who can return balance to the galaxy, and simultaneously put us in grave danger by linking the lost spirit of the powerful Sith Lord, Darth Sidious, to Dathomir… This is both fascinating and perplexing.” 

“That’s one way of putting it.” Ahsoka frowns. “We need to hurry and find this temple key for now. That will buy us enough time to worry about using Mayan’s knowledge to destroy Palpatine’s spirit.”

“The key is connected to our adversary. Mother had said this was the case; it is the reason we hoped to face the Sith apprentice. Now that we have the trail, it will be possible to find the key.”

“This key.” Ahsoka narrows her eyes. “It’s connected to Palpatine, then? He’s the manipulator, isn’t he?”

“As I said, the destination feels incomplete.” 

“Apparently, Talzin and Palps go way back.” Ezra shrugs. “I don’t think they parted on very good terms, though.”  

Mother Talzin, Maul’s mother, and Palpatine, his Sith master. Ahsoka feels slightly sick as she puts the two pieces together. 

“Mother is waiting,” Circe says, flashing a glare at Ezra. “Let us return to Dathomir.” 

Chapter Text

Luke lands his beaten-up X-Wing in the hangar Leia directed him to. His stomach swoops a little when he spots the Falcon, tucked away inside the bay, but Leia and Han aren’t there of course. They’re waiting for him inside. 

His uniform is a few years out of date, but nobody asks questions. The officer on duty just sends him a nod. Luke wonders if he even knows who he is. Probably not — not many people have connected Luke’s name to his face.

Light spills into the docking bay and a cargo-load of emotions slam into him through the force. 

Leia.

“Luke!” she cries, racing towards him. 

R2 skids around the corner after her, beeping and spinning his top.

Luke catches her in his arms, burying his smile in her shoulder as he lifts her off the ground.

“Oh, stop it!” Leia chides, a warmth in her voice. “I have missed you, Luke.” 

He puts her down, losing himself in the familiar honey-brown of her eyes. “Yeah, me too,” he says. “And you, R2,” he adds, patting R2’s still beeping top.

Luke lost count of the number of months he hasn’t seen Leia for. She’s been on Coruscant, discussing New Republic business with other senators and governors and force-knows who else and what else. Luke gets the sense that establishing a new government is quite a task.

Leia shakes her head. “I wish you would drop by more. There are so many famous people on Coruscant I think you would fit right in, and not be recognised, I mean.”

Luke’s smile falters for a moment. “You know how I feel about that,” he says. 

“Yes, well,” Leia begins, “you can’t keep avoiding this place forever. It’s the centre of the galaxy, Luke. All of the most important discussions about the New Republic take place here. Surely you want to have some say in them?”

“But I don’t know what to say.” Luke smiles. “Can we go inside?”

“Oh, alright. What do you want, a hot chocolate I bet?”

“You know me too well.”

Luke has been on Coruscant twice. Part of him still sees it as just a dark labyrinth version of cloud city, as if his brain needs to ground the chaos in something familiar. There are so many life forms pulsating through the force that it’s almost overwhelming. He wonders how the Jedi ever managed to meditate here with all of this noise, but maybe there’s something about the temple that blocked it all out. Luke can certainly feel its presence, a calm, infinite blue that fills his mind with tranquillity. Strange, given the massacre that took place not even that long ago.

“Where’s Han?” Luke asks, sipping his hot chocolate in Leia’s office. The office is midnight blue because lighting is highly conserved on a planet with one trillion residents. Most of the light comes in from the window, where floating street lights mark the flight lanes and speeders zip by noiselessly due to soundproofing. 

“Watching Ben,” Leia says, then adds, dryly, “I hope.”

“I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

“Well, I usually send 3PO to check on them come bedtime, because you can be sure he won’t have brushed Ben’s teeth or read him a story.”

Luke cringes. He really doesn’t want to get involved in Leia and Han’s (it’s not strained, but it’s… stretchy) relationship. They love each other, but from what he’s heard from Leia, sometimes love isn’t enough to hold two people together. 

Sometimes other things get in the way.

“You seem pensive. What’s on your mind?” Leia asks.

“Oh, just… I’ve had an interesting month.”

Leia raises a well-defined eyebrow. “With the Mandalorians?”

He nods. “They want to retake their home planet.” 

“Mandalore? It’s supposed to be uninhabitable after what the Empire did.”

“It’s not, I’ve been there. The atmosphere is perfectly fine, and there are even some Mandalorians still living there, though they seem very beaten down. We had to rescue a young boy from them.”

Leia doesn’t seem to hear everything he said. “But Mandalore’s atmosphere is toxic. It says so on the New Republic database.”

“I’m telling you, I breathed the atmosphere there and it’s perfectly fine.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Leia says. “I’m more concerned that our data is wrong.” 

“Maybe we should investigate?” Luke prompts.

But Leia shakes her head. “There’s too much else to do. Anyway, it probably suits the Mandalorians better because others won’t interfere with their planet for a while.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Leia smiles fondly. “There’s a talk on tonight from an ex-Imperial doctor I thought might be interesting — part of the New Republic Amnesty Programme I told you about. I also booked us a table for dinner. Thought I’d give you the full Coruscant experience.” 

Luke is better at concealing his emotions through the force than Leia is at reading them. “That sounds alright,” he says. 

Hopefully, he won’t hate everything about this planet. It’s just so unlike home. And Luke doesn’t even like Tatooine that much, if he can even still consider that his home, but it hasn’t felt that way since his aunt and uncle were killed. Ossus was a home of sorts, but it was isolating. He tries not to let his thoughts wander any further on that trajectory because he knows he won’t be able to deny his feelings on where he feels most home and feelings are complicated and painful.

—

Dr Pershing feels nervous enough to bring down the entire opera house. His anxiety is claustrophobic, even from the furthest seats to the main stage.

Luke pulls his cloak further over his face.

“You’re worse than Han.” Leia rolls her eyes.

Luke eyes her from under his hood. “What d’ya mean?”

“At least Han pretends he’s cool as carbonate, you can’t seem to get into this at all.”

“Sorry, Leia,” he says. “Maybe I’ll feel better when he starts talking. He just seems so nervous.”

“He’s right to be nervous,” Leia agrees. “We keep close surveillance on Ex-Imperials, for their own safety and for ours.” 

“Is he going to continue his work in the New Republic?” Luke asks.

“Certainly not until he’s proven to be trustworthy. That could take a while. Many of the senators are nervous about giving certain freedoms to ex-Imperials.”

“I don’t blame them…” Luke tries to pull his knee up to his chest, but Leia swats his shoulder. “Is everything going okay?”

Leia purses her lips. “A lot of people are very afraid, and that can make reaching decisions difficult.”

“Fear clouds the judgement,” Luke says

“It does. I just hope everyone can pull together eventually. We need to prove to people that the New Republic can bring stability to the galaxy, or we’ll lose people’s faith. We’re already hearing whispers of potential splinter groups, and I am not having another Clone War situation on our hands.” 

“Would be hard without any clones,” Luke says.

“You make a good point, little brother.”

“Hey, how do you know I’m younger?” 

Leia side-eyes him. “I don’t.” 

Luke pouts.

“My name is Doctor Penn Pershing.” The speakers echo the doctor's words around the Opera House. “When I was young, I lost my mother, the person who I admired most. Her... her heart gave out. Had simple organ cloning been available on my home-world, her death would have been easily preventable.” 

Leia leans over. “Illegal in the New Republic,” she whispers. “What do you make of that?”

Luke considers this for a moment. “They’re scared there’ll be another Clone War,” he decides.

“Pershing is right, though.” Leia inclines her head. “Organ cloning could save many lives.”

“Are you trying to legalise it?”

“In the near future, yes. There are more urgent priorities right now.”

“Like what?” Luke cringes, realising the clumsiness of his wording. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it in a… y’know.”

“I know,” Leia says. “Trade and security. These things take a long time to sort out.”

Pershing offers some explanation of the science behind his research, and the talk ends with a thunderous round of applause from the majority high-class Coruscant audience are too wealthy to have ever needed to worry about their health.

“This is all just a publicity stunt, you know,” Leia says, briskly rising to her feet. “The senators want to show the fruits of their efforts with the Amnesty Project, then they’ll stick Pershing in an apartment and forget about him.”

“I don’t know how you can stand it here.”

—

Leia has booked a table for them at the Pinnacle. Luke has to pause for a moment before the luminescent white-gold elevator to convince his legs to step forwards. It’s fine. There are so many people here. They won’t look at me twice. He pulls his hood over.

“You’re probably more conspicuous with it up,” Leia says, and tugs it down so it falls around his shoulders. “Why don’t you take your cloak off?”

“It’s part of my religion.” 

Leia’s forehead wrinkles in puzzlement. “Is that a Mandalorian saying? That’s a Mandalorian saying, isn’t it.”

“I’m sorry, Senator Organa, your droid will have to wait in here.” A man with silk white gloves gestures to a room beside the elevators once they reach the top. 

“That’s alright,” Leia says.

Luke nudges R2’s top. “Behave,” he murmurs.

R2 beeps unpromisingly. 

The man leads them through a large room with circular booths, each containing a table with parties ranging from two to six. There is no sky in sight. Luke’s heart sinks a little. Fortunately, his sister pulls through, and Leia booked them a table right at the window, with a perfect view over the busy Coruscant lanes.

“Please don’t tell me how much you had to pay for this,” Luke whispers as they sit down.

Leia waves her hand dismissively. “They don’t charge senators the full price. Plus, this is a treat. Do you think I have time to eat out with all of this work to do?” She smiles. “Never mind spending time with my brother.” 

“I appreciate it,” Luke says. “It’s actually not so bad up here.”

“It does take some getting used to.” 

“Maybe not for you. You grew up with this. Force, I barely even set foot in Mos Eisley.” 

Leia eyes him sympathetically. “For all that Tatooine was a difficult place to grow up in, you did get to be closer to our parents.”

“While you got new parents.”

“You had Ben.” 

“And I didn’t even know it until I lost him.”

“We both lost the families they left us with,” Leia says. “I still get teary-eyed when I see the empty space in the nav computer where Alderaan is supposed to be.”

“I went back to Tatooine a few weeks ago,” Luke says, trying to keep his voice steady. “I hadn’t even paid Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s graves a visit since Ben and I berried them. I felt terrible about it.”

“You had other responsibilities. Defeating the Empire was as good a tribute to them as any flowers you might’ve left.” 

“I didn’t even leave them any flowers.”

Leia is silent for a moment, her eyes running across his face. “C’mere,” she says and scoots along the cushioned seat of the booth to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m okay,” Luke huffs. “I just… I keep thinking about it.”

“I know,” Leia says. She sighs. “I wish I could have met them. I wish you could have met my mother and father.”

Luke takes a deep breath as Leia runs her hand down the side of his arm comfortingly. “Do you ever worry something bad’s gonna happen?” he asks.

Leia looks at him. “No. Why? I mean, I worry about Ben and Han, and I worry about you, but I worry a normal amount I’d say. Do you worry a lot?”

“I had a vision that was very vague — possibly from a creature of ancient Mandalorian legend. And recently I’ve felt a darkness looming in the distance. Do you sense it too?” Luke gives her hand a light squeeze. 

“I don’t sense anything.”

“Oh,” Luke says.

“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s specific to you. Do you still feel it now?”

“I can’t escape from it,” Luke says, mouth suddenly dry. “It follows me everywhere. Ever since I…”

“You’re afraid,” Leia says.

“I think so,” Luke admits.

“Doesn’t fear cloud the judgement?” 

“I kind of thought the fear was the result of my judgement.” 

“Well, I think that’s pretty much the same thing.”

“But what am I supposed to do Leia? There’s no one I can talk to about this… I’m —” I’m alone. I’m the last Jedi. 

“You are not alone, Luke. You have me, and you have Ahsoka too. Force, you even have Han and R2 and C3PO and Chewy and maybe some new Mandalorian friends by the sound of it. And if Ahsoka’s mission on Dathomir succeeds maybe she’ll find the missing Jedi, Ezra.”

“Or she’ll die,” Luke says.

“Luke…” Worry creases her face. “This isn’t like you at all.” 

“I wish I hadn’t left.”

“Left where? What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter,” Luke says. “I thought if I came here I could regain my focus somehow.” He shakes his head. “But I still feel the same way.”

“My father always said, ‘If there’s something you’re afraid of, you need to go right to the root of it and figure out why. Then you can work on not being afraid of it anymore.’”

“I can’t. It’s distracting me from what’s important to me as a Jedi. I don’t want to be in a situation where I’m constantly afraid something bad might happen.”

Leia shifts to leave some space between them. “I understand that. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Remember to trust your feelings — that’s what Ben would say.”

Guilt throbs through him. That’s what he did say, he doesn’t add.

—

“Pershing? Well, that wasn’t even the half of what I heard he was getting up to for the Empire, I heard…” the voice is swallowed by the sounds of the restaurant. Luke puts down his fork and closes his eyes. Leia gives him a funny look, which he ignores. People are talking about Pershing, and Pershing was involved with the Empire. Perhaps they want to hurt him. Luke shouldn’t let that happen. 

“Yes, Moff Gideon.”

Luke’s eyes fly open. “Pershing worked for Moff Gideon?” 

“Yes. Why?” Leia’s eyes narrow. “I thought that was common knowledge.” 

“I don’t know politics, Leia,” he says, slightly annoyed. “Gosh, you should’ve told me. Moff Gideon was involved in some really nasty business not long ago. He’s the one who went after Grogu.”

She rolls her eyes.  “Well, maybe if you spoke to me more you would’ve known.”

“Leia, I don’t like this.” Luke tries not to squirm in his seat. If he had no appetite for the fancy Coruscant food before he certainly doesn’t now. “A Moff, after a force-sensitive child, working with a cloner? What the kriff were they doing?” 

“He might just have been after him because he was force sensitive and you know how the Empire felt about the Jedi.” 

“I wish I’d asked Din about this! I’m such an idiot.” 

“Who’s Din?” 

“Never mind. Okay, I’ve got to find out what Pershing was doing for Moff Gideon. I have a seriously bad feeling —”

“Okay,” Leia says. “I trust your judgement. Are you finished? Let’s go speak to them.” 

Luke’s stomach swoops. “What?” 

“Sorry, farm-boy. Sneaking around isn’t how we learn things on Coruscant. You’ve got to play the game.” 

“What game?”

“Politics, Luke.” 

“Oh great.” 

“Don’t worry,” Leia grins. “Your big sister will sort it all out for you. Oh, void that, I’m your cousin now.” 

Before Luke can inform Leia that, that is not, in fact, how family relations work, she makes her way over to the booth across from them where the pair are still conversing in hushed tones.

Luke tries not to be left behind.

“Senator Ol, what a pleasant surprise,” Leia says, in a neutral tone paired with a beaming smile. “This is my cousin, Lewis, I just thought I would introduce you since you’re here. It’s nice to meet you again, Mrs Ol, how is the gas refinery doing?”

“Very well, thank you,” says the woman. Her hair is piled ridiculously on top of her head, like a red fruit basket, and she dabs her lips with a white napkin. 

Her husband, Senator Ol, is an Iktotchi, with bronze skin and grooved horns framing his face like hard lekku. He nods pleasantly in Leia’s direction, and then towards Luke. “Indeed! It is good to see you, Senator Organa, and good to meet your cousin as well. How is Coruscant treating you, Lewis?” 

“Oh, it’s very, um,” Luke meets Leia’s eyes which start to burn the longer he hesitates, “very different to what I’m used to.”

“And where are you from? Not Alderaan, I assume?” 

“Oh no,” Leia says, “Lewis is from Lothal. He’s a very distant cousin, you see, but he’s the only family I have left…”

“I see, I am very sorry, Senator Organa. I am glad you can spend time with your cousin.”

“Yes, we just attended the fascinating talk by Doctor Penn Pershing, in fact, and were discussing the New Republic’s Amnesty Programme, which I of course advocated for. Actually, I would be interested to know your thoughts on the programme, perhaps we could meet sometime to discuss it? I feel that many of the other senators are either far too optimistic or oppose the programme out of fear, so it would be nice to speak to somebody reasonable and pragmatic about these sorts of things such as yourself.” 

Luke’s head is nearly spinning by the end of Leia’s speech.

“Of course, Senator. I too appreciate your very sensible views. I can tell you that I am somewhat concerned that the Amnesty Project is a security concern for us. With the recent activity in the outer regions from ex-Imperial groups I’m sure you can understand why.”

“I see. The project is supposed to ensure that those who had previously worked for the Empire have the chance for a fresh start.”

Senator Ol waves his hand dismissively. “Of course. A commendable aim. Perhaps I should be more optimistic about it, but I feel that it is not being adequately monitored due to our limited resources.”

“I see your point,” Leia agrees. “Though I can’t say I understand why Pershing would be perceived as such a threat, with Moff Gideon on his way to trial as we speak.”

“Well,” begins Senator Ol, leaning closer, “it is the record of his research, you see, that is of concern. I understand that he spent some time on Kamino. What he learnt there about cloning is not properly documented.”

“I see.” Leia narrows her eyes. “Perhaps his case should be looked into some more. Anyway, apologies for taking time out of your evening to talk again about New Republic issues. Let’s organise that meeting sometime in the next few weeks.”

“Of course,” says Senator Ol. “Good to speak to you as always.”

—

“If Pershing was involved with Kamino, he certainly knows what he’s talking about,” Leia says as they wait for R2 to be brought out of the droid room. 

Luke feels slightly sick. “You don’t think Moff Gideon wanted to clone force sensitives, do you?”

“I don’t know, Luke. As far as I’m aware there were never any force-sensitive clones.”

“I bet Ben would know if there ever were. Gosh, I wish I could speak to him right now.”

Leia’s gaze softens. “You see him sometimes, don’t you?”

“I do. He appears as a force ghost. I’m sure you could see him too if you tried hard enough.”

“I don’t really have time to spend honing my force abilities. I’m sure if he ever needs to speak to me he will.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Actually,” Leia grabs his arm. “I know where we could look! The Jedi Temple. There are bound to be records of any force-sensitive clones that were engineered.”

Luke is speechless for a moment. “That sure would be our best bet…” he agrees. 

—

The Jedi Temple is basically right smack in the centre of Coruscant, a short speeder ride away from the Senate building and the Opera House. Only approved personnel are actually allowed access to this area, with it being a tourist hotspot. Coruscant simply couldn't cope with the numbers otherwise. 

Leia’s ID is scanned and checked by a suspicious New Republic officer. Luke decides he’s probably new. “You don't need to see my identification.” Make that definitely new. The officer’s eyes glaze over and he mutters Luke’s words back to him, waving them past.

“I could’ve probably just explained you were with me,” Leia says from the front of the speeder.

“I don’t want you to have to deal with people asking about me all the time like it was at the end of the rebellion. It’s not fair on you.”

“They only wanted to meet their hero,” Leia says as the astro mech switches to a lower lane. Luke doesn’t have a clue why — he thought he was a good pilot until he tried landing on Coruscant. “Why didn’t you let them?” 

“Because we both know what really happened when I faced the Emperor.” 

It’s better if he says nothing. Sometimes he feels like Leia understands, other times, not so much — when she’s wrapped up in politics and heroism and emotions. If Luke remains quiet about what happened when he faced the Emperor and Vader, he remains a rumour, and inspiration, a whisper in the street: 

“The rebellion saved us. Their hero destroyed the Death Star and defeated Vader. They don’t want you to know, but it’s true! I heard he’s a Jedi.”

“I heard he was just a farm-boy from some backwater planet.”

“I heard he was the best pilot the galaxy’s ever seen!” 

“That was General Skywalker, you idiot.” 

Luke would rather remain an enigma with no certain ties or associations attached. He inspires hope in the galaxy by being whatever people need him to be, whatever they believe him to be. 

He wanted the Jedi Order to start anew from the same mould. 

Somewhere secluded, peaceful, where he could train people who wanted to do good and protect others from evil. 

It wasn’t supposed to be so complicated.

“When you are ready, come to Mandalore, and build your temple there.”

Force. Why does thinking about him feel like a stab wound to the gut? What’s wrong with him? Can’t he just stop feeling —

“You’re ruminating again,” Leia says. “We’re here. You’ll have to ignore the mess. The restoration work is still underway.”

The Temple suffered some damage throughout the reign of the Galactic Empire. It had at one point served as a headquarters for the Inquisitors, but most recently it was a museum oozing with Palpatine’s propaganda about the supposed Jedi betrayal at the end of the Clone Wars. Fortunately, these tours had been reserved for the elite, Palpatine’s most trusted, and therefore the normal people of the galaxy had not been as heavily influenced. Many still held fear towards the Jedi though, and some had even speculated that Luke had taken the Emporer's place after defeating him. 

All that most people know is that there were once Jedi who served them in the war, and then one day there weren’t, and their democratic Republic became an Empire run by a dictatorship. 

Several handfuls of droids are busy at work clambering the walls and pillars, filling cracks and testing the soundness of the structure. The floors and walls are plain glossy marble, with huge pillars towering towards the ceiling. It must be a maze, Luke thinks, with all of the rooms and corridors branching off from the path Leia takes him on. The whole time he feels… strange. Maybe a little uneasy. 

He can think of many reasons why.

It’s so painfully quiet. 

Yet overwhelmingly loud at the same time.

Luke takes a deep breath and tries to let the feeling settle somewhere inside of him, where he can sit with it at a later time and digest it properly. There is a lot to unpack here. And he honestly doesn’t want to unpack any of it. 

“The archives are down here,” Leia says. “We couldn’t access all of the rooms. Perhaps you’ll have better luck. I’d be interested to know if they are fully preserved.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Well, the restoration workers.”

“So you didn’t try.” Luke smiles.

Leia sighs. “I’m a senator, Luke. I chose to prioritise this role, where I know I can do the most good. We’ve talked about this.” 

“I know,” Luke says. “Doesn’t mean you can’t open the Temple doorways, though.”

“Why haven’t you?” Leia shoots him a look as they round a corner.

Luke follows down the staircase. “I’m here now.” 

“Well, you could have come here sooner if you wanted to.” 

“I guess I didn’t want to. Or… not yet, at least. I hoped that maybe, in the future…” 

“It’s yours, you know.”

Luke frowns.

“The Temple,” Leia says. “It belongs to the Jedi. Oh, go up to the top tower someday, will you? Just go and take a look. I think you’ll like it.” She grins. 

Luke shakes his head with a smile. “I can already guess what you did.” 

“Well go and see it anyway.” Leia stops at a tall ornate doorway. “Here we are. Jedi first,” Leia says, opening the door for him.

—

They don’t find anything for several hours. 

Leia blinks hard and glances at her holo pad for the time. Whatever it is, she doesn’t tell Luke. (He estimates somewhere around four in the morning.)

Then, Luke presses his hand against a wall without any of the strange data cylinder rows. The wall pushes back, then splits down the middle, and parts.

There are more cylinders in here, coated in a layer of dust. Some of them have the faintest trace of handprints where the layer of dust is not quite as thick, so Luke can only assume that this area hasn’t remained completely unopened since the fall of the Jedi order. Likely, those who opened it were Jedi who returned at some point during the reign of the Empire, perhaps searching for information of some kind. 

Luke hopes they made it out.

His hand hovers over a collection of cylinders. These ones. He inserts the first one into a projector, and Leia joins him on a pair of dusty seats as they dive into the entire history of the Jedi order and the clones. 

Data stick forty-five is promising. 

The Kaminoans requested some blood samples from the Jedi which was denied by the Jedi Council.

On data stick fifty-three, Obi-Wan Kenobi had paid a visit to Kamino.

“I delivered the Council’s message,” he says. “The Kaminoans have said they’ll stop trying to make clones with force sensitivity, but I’d say we should keep a close eye on them from now on. I also don’t trust the Senate if they find out this could be a possibility…”

“Understood, General Kenobi,” says Master Mace Windu. “Your concerns are shared by the Council. The force is too powerful to be trifled with in this way, and the implications of this research are too dangerous. We’ll try to keep this discussion under the Senate’s radar.” 

Luke stretches and yawns. He replaces the data cylinder back in its place. “That’s it,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “Force-sensitive clones. Gosh. Can you imagine what Palpatine would have done with that?”

“I’m wondering why he didn’t manage,” Leia grumbles. “Surely it wasn’t for lack of trying. Perhaps the technology just wasn’t available.” 

“If it is now,” Luke begins, “and somebody knows about this…”

“Pershing.” 

“Pershing,” he agrees. “I think Moff Gideon wanted blood samples from Grogu to either gain force sensitivity for himself or for clones.”

“You know that cloning has never been done successfully outside of Kamino.”

“Din talked about finding weird labs.” Luke paces the small room. “They must be trying,” he mutters. “But where would...” 

Leia gasps at the same time Luke does. “Mandalore!” they both exclaim. 

“Kirff,” Luke swears.

“The data was wrong because somebody didn’t want anyone poking around!” Leia slams her hand onto the shelf, exciting a cloud of dust. “Shit, Luke. I can’t believe I missed this.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Luke swallows the fear in his throat. “I need to go. I—”

Leia touches his arm, the skin around her eyes creased with worry. “Let me come with you.”

He shakes his head wordlessly. 

“Luke, we both know you’re not in the right headspace right now. Let me come with you. Let me help you.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Luke says, clasping her hands. “Maybe this is what I’ve been so afraid of.”

“What are you afraid of?”

He tries to take his hands away, but Leia holds on tighter.

“Pain,” Luke whispers. “If I follow him to Mandalore… I know it’s right. My heart is telling me that I want to, but what if something happens? What if I get attached and then I — I lose him? If that is what I saw in my vision, how can I...”

“Luke.” Leia closes her eyes. She brings his hands closer to touch them to her cheek. “It's normal to be afraid for the people you care about, but that doesn't make it okay to push human connection away. Yes, it might be hard to figure this out as a Jedi, but what you're doing right now is avoiding your fear, which isn't going to make you any less afraid or the reality that bad things do happen any less painful.”

Leia should be a Jedi. 

She’s better at this than he is.

He remembers a conversation with Ahsoka and finally understands what she meant. 

“Why do you think the Jedi were vulnerable to the dark side?” 

“I believe the Jedi lost their way. Instead of dealing with how we felt in a healthy way, we were encouraged to push our fear and anger away, and many of us, Anakin included, bottled it up. He was… scared of something, and nobody helped him, or reassured him, because it was about your mother and he’d broken the Jedi code to be with her.”

Chapter Text

Mandalore is exactly the same as Din remembers it from the last time he was here with Luke. 

Bo-Katan and the Armourer agree that they should make contact with Clan куяαу¢ as quickly as possible to learn more about the situation on the planet, so they land their stolen star cruisers not far from the caves leading to the mines, where Kymir’s old covert are hopefully still hiding.

They set up camp partially under the cover of the cave to give them a quick escape in case an attack comes from either direction.

Kymir hesitates at the entrance of the cave. Din notices out of the corner of his visor as Ragnar attempts to coax the boy into the shadows. Kymir doesn’t move, even when Ragnar tries pulling him by the hand. Then Din intervenes.

“Hey,” he says to the two boys. 

Ragnar’s eyes snap up to Din’s helmet. He scowls. “Kymir’s not moving. What’s wrong with him? Is he scared of the dark?”

“I’ll speak to him. You go find your dad,” Din says.

Kymir bits the inside of his cheek and turns away from Din’s gaze. 

“It’s okay,” Din says. He reaches out to grasp Kymir’s shoulder, but the boy flinches away. Din hesitates. “Um, you can stay outside, if you don’t want to —”

“иє вα’ѕℓαиαя,” he says, fingers grasping the edges of Din’s cape.

“I won’t,” Din promises. “We can stay up here. Bo-Katan will find them.”

“I thought he would lead us down. Are these not his people?” Bo-Katan says, and Din startles. 

Kymir’s eyes flick up to Bo-Katan’s downturned mouth, and he hides himself under Din’s cape.

“He, uh,” Din starts — trying to stand up, but struggling to do so without uncovering Kymir, “doesn’t want to go down.”

“I can see that.” Bo-Katan clicks her tongue. “Fine, we can find our way down without him. Will he be alright if we bring his people above ground?”

“Kymir?” Din presses, trying to lift his cape.

Kymir stays silent and wraps his arms around Din’s waist.

Din looks at Bo-Katan, who sighs.

“You, just.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Stay with him, then.”

“I will.”

Bo-Katan looks as though she might have something else to say, but she doesn’t get the chance. 

The ground erupts in a tremor, and Din snaps his head around as rocks shatter into the air with a series of helmet-splitting cracks. 

“σѕι’куя!” Bo-Katan exclaims. “What the kriff is that?” 

“Stay here,” Din says to Kymir. “Can you watch Grogu as well?”

Kymir nods and lets Grogu climb onto his shoulders. Grogu holds his lightsaber up to Din, who wraps his hand around Grogu’s, pushing it away.

“No, Grogu. It’s too dangerous. If you need to use it to keep yourself safe, that’s okay, but don’t put yourself in danger.”

Grogu wrinkles his nose as he stores the lightsaber back in his clothes.

“He’s Mandalorian, alright,” Bo-Katan comments with a shake of her head and a grim smile. “Come on. We’d better go and find out what that was.” 

The Armourer is already there, and a dozen others, over the ridge where a sharp cliff drops off one of the shattered plates that now make up the surface of the planet. 

A creature that looks like a dragon is spitting fire at them. Its body twists in the air like a ribbon, narrow, black eyes picking out targets seemingly at random. The blaster fire from below does little to dissuade the creature until it roars as a hit sears its softer underside. Then it dives, and with a crunch, and an ominous rumble, vanishes beneath the ground.

It’s silent for just a moment.

And the creature erupts out of the ground again, this time, with ten times the fury than before. It thrashes across the ground, throwing up rocks at the scattered Mandalorians, and takes out a pair with its spear-like teeth, skewering them like meat.

Bo-Katan curses loudly. “Restrain it!” she yells and jets the distance across the ground to increase the force at which she can embed her fibre-cord whip in the creature’s side. It buries itself into the creature’s flesh with a soft crunch.

The other Mandalorians follow. Bo-Katan wraps the cord around a spike of rock and pulls, keeping the creature from pulling away.

One shoots fire at it, again to little effect. It just seems to make it more angry. Still partly free, it wrangles the fibre-cords in its side until two tear lose with a chunk of flesh and a spurt of blood. 

It spits fire, from which Din arrives just in time to shield the affronting pair of Mandalorians.

“Get back!” Din yells. His shield can’t properly deflect the molten rock and shuts off with a crackle as the mechanism gets fried. Along with his arm.

Din grasps his forearm, stumbling to his knees. Adrenaline makes it painless. But it doesn’t ward off the shock, or the nauseating smell of melted clothes mangled in flesh. 

He knows that if he wants to save the arm he should get bacta on it immediately, but the creature hasn’t given up yet, so Din doesn’t either. 

It isn’t his darksaber arm, so he pulls the black sword on the creature, waving it as a last-ditch deterrent while the others scramble to positions to re-fire their fibre-cord whips. 

A couple go in, but the rest bounce off the black-brown scales and slither uselessly to the side. 

Din gets a good angle with his jetpack and manages to slice a couple of the creature’s hideous teeth off as he swings past. They embed themselves into the ground like arm-sized darts. 

He stumbles as he crashes back down. 

The creature’s mouth bleeds dark red. That seems to do it, and it decides the fight isn’t working for it anymore. It pulls away again, is tugged back by the fire-cords, tries again, breaks free and leaves another pound of flesh behind. 

But doesn’t leave without snatching up a small Mandalorian in its clawed fingers. 

“Ragnar!” a voice bellows. 

It took Ragnar. 

Din holds his arm against his side and staggers over to the group. It takes two Mandalorians to hold the bleeding Paz back from going after the dragon.

“Paz,” Din says, hoarsely. Nothing. He falls to his knees with a clang. “Paz, we’ll get him back,” he says, grabbing the front of the struggling man’s helmet. 

Paz shakes off one of them, manages to get up on one knee—

Din headbutts him. His helmet rings with the force of it. 

Paz gasps and stops struggling.

“Stop,” Din rasps. “Let’s regroup. Find its lair.” 

Paz gazes at him wordlessly. Din doesn’t need to see his face to picture the anguish scratched across it.

“∂ιи ∂נαяιи!” 

Din turns to Kymir who stands on the top of the jagged edge of rock, breathing raggedly. 

“иєя αℓιιт кαя’тαуℓ тισи’яσнαкαя вι¢!” My clan knows how to defeat it.

“к’σℓαя!” he yells. Come on.

Kymir vanishes behind the rock.

Din gets to his feet and runs after him. 

—

“Din, stop moving,” Bo-Katan hisses. She slaps a bacta-patch on his mangled arm as he refuels his jetpack one-handed. 

Grogu whimpers from Din’s lap, his little hand reaching towards the injury. Then, the familiar, tingling, hot sensation of being healed by the force gnaws into his arm.

“Grogu, no,” Din says. “You’ve done enough. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Grogu’s eyelids drop, and his head flops, unsteady, onto Din’s thigh. Din cups his head in his hand because his leg is armoured in beskar and gestures for Bo-Katan to take him.

“He helped a little,” Bo-Katan says as she places him into a bundle of blankets. She peers down at Din’s arm. “Yes, it’s… not burnt down to the bone anymore.” 

“Good. I’m going down. Kymir and I can reach them fastest. Once we know where the creature lives we can go with a small group and rescue Ragnar.” 

Bo-Katan narrows her eyes, searching his visor for something to reassure herself. Din’s stomach drops when he realises that she’s desperately searching for his eyes.

He touches her shoulder instead. “Keep them together,” he says, nodding in the direction of the others who are still reeling from the shock of the attack, some badly wounded. 

Bo-Katan sighs. “That’s what I’ve been doing for years, Din.” She shakes her head. “Let me wrap your arm. Take some more painkillers or you won’t be able to think when you’re down there. You might still lose the arm the way it is now.” 

Din stares at her. “Yeah, okay,” he says.

“Okay?” Bo-Katan squints, winding the bandage around his arm which is thoroughly smothered in bacta. “I think you mean: Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Din says. “It’s fine. I still have another arm.”

Bo-Katan bangs her helmet on her forehead. “Dank farrik, you’re crazy.” 

Din manages to put his jetpack on one-handed. It hisses as it locks into place. “Thought I was an idiot,” he says.

“You are also an idiot!” Bo-Katan yells after him.

He hopes she can convince Paz to treat his injuries, because he has no doubt that Paz will want to join in the rescue mission, and he needs to at least have stopped bleeding like a burst fuel tank if he wants to join. 

Kymir waits by the cave entrance. He clenches and unclenches his fists, then spots Din, and runs over to check his arm.

“It’s fine,” Din lies. “Are you ready to go?”

Kymir looks at him with wide eyes. He nods. 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

—

Din doesn’t leave Kymir any time to hesitate as he bundles him up in his arm and jumps over the edge. Kymir squeezes his arm just at the edge of the burn, and Din grits his teeth, trying to keep them steady for him to catch their fall with his jetpack. 

They reach the bottom and Kymir still doesn’t let go.

“Come on,” Din says. “к’σℓαя, Kymir. Just a little farther.” 

The boy pulls his helmet down over his chin and lets Din set him on his feet. He wobbles for a moment in the darkness, and Din switches on his helmet torch. 

“Which way now?” Din whispers.

Kymir grabs his hand and leads him into a passageway.

“ιвι¢'ℓα נσя ινιιи’у¢.” This way is quicker.

None of the winding passageways are remotely familiar. The last time he was here, he let Luke guide him through the darkness. 

He didn’t need to be led, he has night vision in his visor, but Luke took his arm and he just… let him.

Usually, he would have been averse to touch like that, but at the time, Din hardly thought anything of it.

Thinking back, maybe he should have realised then how he felt. But when did he start feeling that way? Was it on Ossus? Or, earlier? Luke offered to help with the darksaber, which Din was initially hesitant about. He didn’t want the darksaber. Full stop. 

Or at least, he didn’t want it until Ossus.

“How would you feel about retaking Mandalore?” 

Din said that. It even came out of the blue for him, but after he said it, he realised that it was what he wanted to say. 

And he wanted Mandalore because… 

“You have something I want. You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not. Soon, he will be back with me.”

He means more to me than you will ever know.”

…because no one is ever going to take Grogu from him like that again.

Din remembers asking. “Why do you need a temple?”

The lightest pink touched his cheeks. 

Din thought: That’s cute. Wait what?

“I want the Jedi to have a home again. I want to fix what happened and make everything right.”

And then Ossus was gone. Luke tried not to be sad — Din understands the Jedi have some rule against feeling emotions — but he couldn’t hide how he felt forever, not after the mythosaur shook him with that vision.  

You took something from him. You might think you understand the value of what was lost, but you do not. I’m going to make it right.

He means… something to me.

Well, feelings were never his strong point. Especially not romantic ones. 

But why does he feel that way about Luke? Din has been romantically interested in people before. Most notably, Omera — the woman with the little girl on Sorgan. 

Then she tried to take off his helmet. 

At that moment, he thought his heart would stop. Everything went cold. It was not… 

She didn’t understand. 

She didn’t understand. 

The helmet was… it was…

And then there was Luke, who never wanted anything more than just to help. To help Grogu learn to protect himself, and to help Din, once he figured out what he wanted to do with the darksaber. 

But he doesn’t feel the same way. 

He left. 

Din mentally shakes his head. 

The worst part is, he doesn’t understand why Luke said no. Something seemed to be bothering him. It was like he got scared, but Din has never seen him scared, he sort of thought Jedi don’t get scared. 

But the look on his face when he brushed past after saying he deserved the darksaber…

He seemed terrified. But of what? Is attachment that much of a taboo for Jedi?

And then came the part Din did understand.

Wanting to go against the thing you believe in. Dark, terrible thoughts that maybe The Way isn’t The right Way anymore, and that he should just… take that plunge.

“Don’t,” Luke said.

Because he didn’t want Din to give up his creed for him when he couldn’t, wouldn’t, do the same.

But why not? Why not?

WHY?

He doesn’t want to be selfish about it. Luke can make his own choices. 

Of course, it was never just about Luke. 

It was just made clearer by him. 

This whole… religion thing. 

This is his struggle within himself. 

If whatever feelings Luke has for Din aren’t enough to completely shake the foundation of what the Jedi code has built underneath him, maybe his feelings weren’t that strong in the first place. But also, good for him.

He still has faith in his creed.

Good for him.

Grogu’s attachment to Din didn’t even shake that foundation. Din thought Luke would’ve realised how twisted it is to tell a kid he can’t have a family because it could… what? Get in the way? Get in the way of what?

What’s more important than family? 

Without that…

Doesn’t Luke just feel empty? 

With a heavy heart, Din removes himself from his thoughts and recognises the light smudging the edge of the tunnels as they reach the depths of the cave where Clan куяαу¢ hide.

Kymir immediately goes for Din’s cape.

“They’ll be more willing to help if you speak with them,” Din whispers, holding him back.

Kymir’s mouth tightens, and for a moment, Din thinks he’s going to cry. Then he takes a deep breath and wipes his eyes. “ℓєк,” he says.

“Thank you,” Din says. 

He breathes out sharply as pain throbs in his arm.

He knows burn wounds, and this is what they do. They happen, you treat them, quickly, with some bacta and bandages, and then they lull you into a false sense of security and you think: Huh, that’s it.

And then they hurt like hell. 

For hours.

And this burn… Din’s stomach does a weird roll that makes him feel faintly sick. This one’s pretty bad.

If Grogu hadn’t healed the flesh somewhat to cover the bone in his arm Din thinks Bo-Katan would probably have taken the darksaber and just cut it off.

Saves a whole lot of hassle. Dead flesh isn’t nice to deal with, especially when it’s a limb and still attached. 

He risks a glance down at his hand. He can’t really tell how bad it is — the painkillers numb everything like a blanket of white noise. The skin is grey-white. That’s not a good sign. 

Dank ferrik, he’s probably still going to lose the hand.

“кумιя?” 

A hush falls over the clan. They all stop what they’re doing; helmets peer around rocks and gradually close in from the shadows. 

“кумιя, ναιι’я’тααρ?” Kymir, where have you been?

Kymir glances back at Din. He tries to nod in encouragement, but his head is swimming. Kymir gestures and says something to his Clan. Din hopes they’ll help. If they don’t know how to kill or find the dragon thing Ragnar will die.

If he isn’t already dead.

He might already be dead.

“∂ιи ∂נαяιи נσя иєя’вυιя נιι.” Din Djarin is… my…

Din grabs a wall to steady himself. The words bounce around his helmet and his ears ache. He shuts his eyes, tries to focus on the words. They’re the important thing.

“σяι’νσ∂ вυяк’у¢. ναιι’уαιм ∂яαgσи?” My friend is in danger. Where is the dragon’s home?

“куяαмℓα.” He’s dead.

“иυ ∂яααя!” Not never!

“кумιя, уαιм’σℓ.” Kymir, come home.

Din steps out to stand beside him. He tries to stand straight. He pulls out the darksaber with his good hand.

“gαα’тαуℓιя,” he says, and ignites the blade. Help me. 

For a moment, nobody moves. 

Then, somebody asks, “ιвι¢… иι ¢єтα?” Will this… redeem us?

Din looks at Kymir. Understanding wells in his eyes. Do you forgive them?

“иααѕα∂ мι’ѕυя’нααι,” says Kymir. Not in my eyes.

Din nods. Good. 

“мєн’gαα’тαуℓιя, нιвιяαя gαя иι ¢єтα.”  

If you help us, you may learn to forgive yourselves.

—

Din doesn’t know how they all make it out of the cave. They reach the bottom of the cliff and Bo-Katan shouts down to him. He vaguely remembers shouting something back and then suddenly they’re surrounded by Mandalorians with jetpacks who help those from Clan куяαу¢ who agree to stand beside their Manda’lor to rescue the foundling reach the surface.

He’s probably supposed to get out of the cave by himself. 

Kymir stands with him, glancing up at him with concern written all across his scared face, and Din is suddenly aware that he’s swaying from side to side. He plants a foot on the ground to steady himself. 

Under the helmet feels like an oven. He’s… feverish? That makes sense. Because of his arm.

“вυιя…” says Kymir, tugging his cloak.

“I’m okay,” Din stammers. “Just… with we had… more bacta…”

Bo-Katan is beside him suddenly. He can sense the disapproval radiating from her helmet like a heat signature. 

“Come on,” she says, and scoops him up bridal-style. 

He blacks out before he has time to be amused. 

—

Din jolts awake. Stuff clatters to the ground. His hand flies up to his helmet — thank the ancestors. His helmet’s still on.

“Stay still,” Bo-Katan snaps. “I put more bacta on and drugged you up again. How are you?”

“Terrible,” he wheezes.

“At least you’re alive.”

“Are they… making a plan?” Din asks.

“Yes. Clan куяαу¢ have dealt with this type of dragon before and they can take us to its lair. It prefers to feed its young live prey so there’s a chance the kid’s alive.”

Din breathes out. “That’s good. How’s Paz?”

“A wreck,” she says, then makes a face. “Well, Mandalorian standard. He’s toughing it out.”

“When are they going?” Din asks.

“Soon,” says Bo-Katan, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, my hand is still attached.” He tries to flex his fingers. Pain bites into his arm. They twitch weakly. 

“You don’t need to be there. In your state, you’d probably just slow them down.”

“I won’t,” Din says and gets off the makeshift sickbed. “I feel fine.”

“Do you even know how many drugs you are on right now?”

“I have the darksaber,” he says.

“Din, did you hear me?”

“I know what you meant,” Din says. “About it… uniting people. You were right. They need me to be there,” he grabs her shoulder for balance. “It’s like… it, uh, they love it.”

Bo-Katan bangs her helmet on her forehead. “Dank farrik, you’re high.”

—

Bo-Katan is convinced he’s going to get himself killed. 

Din feels fine.

The painkillers make the pain go away.

So he’ll be fine.

They also make everything swim a bit. His eyes struggle to focus. 

Grogu wakes up and taps his helmet. The others are organising themselves to launch the attack, so the medical tent is empty. Din reaches his hand up, heart hammering in his chest. 

No one’s looking. 

Grogu burbles in surprise-confusion as he pulls it over his face, resting it on the top of his head.

Din presses a finger to his lips. Or, tries to. His hand isn’t where he thinks it is. Weird.

“Shh, don’t tell the Armourer.” 

“Patu!” 

His lips pull a little at the sides at the sight of Grogu’s wide eyes. It’s as if he’s trying to etch the image of Din’s face into his little mind forever.

“Hi Grogu,” Din says.

“Mu?”

He chuckles. 

Grogu looks so confused. 

“I know,” Din says. “I know you’re confused. Hey… I am too. It’s okay.”

Grogu’s head twists towards the entranceway. 

Din pulls the helmet back over his head as Bo-Katan strides in. “Okay,” she starts, completely unaware that Din broke the greatest taboo of his creed just a second ago. For the third time. And for no reason other than… he felt like it. Din feels strangely giddy about that. “We’re going soon. Are sure you’re coming?”

“Yes,” Din says.

He just took his helmet off.  

His chest constricts without him fully realising what’s happening. Then there’s the prickle at the back of his neck, the band of heat, like every feeling of self-loathing just slammed into him and wrapped itself around his throat.

Okay, breathe.

It’s just another one of those weird moments where his heart beats really fast and he feels like he’s going to die.

Breathe in, breathe out.

“Din?” Bo-Katan’s voice gets through.

“Yeah?” Din says.

She’s staring at him, wide-eyed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He’s shaking. 

It’ll go away in a second.

It passes. He feels like sinking into the floor and maybe hugging Grogu or being alone. No, it’s fine. There’s Ragnar still in danger. He feels fine.

Why isn’t Luke here again?

Did he say something? He did, didn’t he… He said something horrible. 

Bo-Katan reaches for him, and Din flinches away.

“Dank farrik,” she whispers, hand falling by her side. “Din, listen to me. Whatever you’re thinking right now, you need to get above it. Do you understand? You’re going to lead this mission because it’s going to take everything we have to keep these three clans from turning on each other, and a child’s life is hanging in the balance between all of it.”

“Will you help me?”

“I am with you,” Bo-Katan says.

“Okay.” Din sets Grogu down on the makeshift bed. “Grogu will come too.”

“Seriously?” 

“Patu!”

“Yes. He’s a Mandalorian-Jedi,” Din says, as if that explains everything. 

 —

The dragon’s lair is inside a mountain split down the middle. Or, it could be a mountain. It looks more like a large piece of ground was thrust upwards suddenly and at great force, cracked in half, and just stayed there. 

They call it a mountain, though.

“We’ll approach the nest by climbing,” Bo-Katan says. “I’ll need three groups of four to position themselves in the surrounding area to distract the dragons if any return or if we successfully drive any out of the nest. Myra¢, you said they dislike loud noises?”

A Mandalorian woman from Clan куяαу¢ nods solemnly, her pale eyes darting around in apparent unease at all of the attention on her. They kept the meeting at the edge of the cave because Clan куяαу¢ are uncomfortable going outside. Apparently, since their leader died, some had ventured out more often, but their ways are still firmly engrained.

“єℓєк. They υтяєєкσν. See by noise.” It confuses them.

“Explosions may attract unwanted attention, so use thermal detonators if absolutely necessary,” Bo-Katan says.

“What sort of attention?” asks Koska.

“Clan ѕσℓυѕ. Other dragon,” Myra¢ warns.

Din leans against the wedge of rock that serves as a makeshift table. “What do you know of Clan ѕσℓυѕ? What might they do?” he asks.

“куяαмυ∂ αиα∂є вαт’мαи∂α’уαιм.” They kill anyone on Mandalore.

Bo-Katan presses her hand against her lips. “Doesn’t seem like they will be allies,” she says.

“You never know,” says Din. “People always have something they want.”

—

The climbing party consists of Bo-Katan, Paz, Koska, and a couple of others from The Watch or Nite Owls. 

“You need two arms to climb,” Bo-Katan points out.

“I’m not climbing. I’ll be in the starfighter.” 

Bo-Katan inclines her head. “Good,” she says. 

Din manages to get himself into the pilot seat without falling or whacking his arm off anything. Grogu summersaults in after him.

“Patu!” he says.

“You wanna press the buttons? Okay… do you know what ones?” Din lets Grogu sit on his lap, trying to stop him from already prodding at the switches. 

The last time he tried to instruct Grogu on the Razor Crest, the kid couldn’t follow the instructions properly. Okay, he’s explained how to fly the starfighter in the sense that he verbalises what he does with the controls, but he’s never actually—

“Bu,” Grogu says, pointing at the button for the thrusters.

“Okay,” Din says. “This might work.” 

The hand that Din would use to fire is out of commission. Should he really get a toddler to operate the guns? Isn’t that a bit… 

It’s very Mandalorian, actually. 

“Hey, Grogu? Can you shoot?” 

“Patu,” Grogu says. Yes.

“It’s okay if you miss the first time. It might take some getting used to. You should only fire when the target locks on if you want to be sure it’s going to be a hit.”

Grogu squeaks in excitement. 

They get their cue when the side of the mountain explodes, followed by a storm of dragons spooked by the explosion who shoot up into the sky. 

Din starts the engine and Grogu slams on the thrusters. 

“We need to shoot them so they don’t attack the others,” Din says, implying that they might have to kill a few. He adjusts their trajectory so that they fly towards the side of the mountain where the dragons escape from.

Grogu coos in agreement.  

“Try to aim.”

Grogu fiddles with the stick, nose wrinkling at the computer image of the dragon which weaves in and out of the red target space. He huffs in annoyance and shoots.

It’s a miss. A near miss, though.

“That’s okay,” Din says. “Try to be patient. Wait for it to lock on.”

He brings the ship around to target one of the dragons who poses more of a threat to the Mandalorians, circling the mountain.

“Do not hit the mountain.”

Grogu frowns in concentration. He peers out of the window, ignoring the computer completely, but his hand shifts on the stick and suddenly his eyes widen and he presses the button down.

It hits the dragon and the creature screeches in agony, twisting up into the sky to escape from the onslaught. 

“Mu?” Grogu turns to Din.

“Uh, lucky shot,” Din says. “I wouldn’t shoot without aiming first, kid. Wait, actually… can you use your Jedi stuff to aim? Is that what you’re doing?”

Okay. What would Luke say? Something like…

“In that case, just focus, and… listen to the — is it called the Force? Yeah, listen to the Force.”

Grogu snorts.

“What? Wouldn’t I make a good Jedi?” Din smiles, but Grogu can’t see it.

Grogu decides to close his eyes. Din almost points out that not being able to see is probably the least conducive thing to shooting dragons out of the sky, but then he remembers how Luke found his way through the caves beneath Mandalore in the dark. 

Grogu lifts his head towards another of the dragons, this time in serious danger of interfering with the mountain. It ignores the Mandalorians circling with jetpacks and their efforts to grapple or shoot it and instead breaks bits of rocks off perhaps to crush Bo-Katan and the others. Din’s chest tightens. 

“You’ve got this, Grogu,” he whispers. 

If they don’t get this one…

Din brings the starfighter in. Grogu’s hand twitches on the stick and he huffs in focus.

The targeting computer lines up. Din’s hand twitches to fire, but Grogu waits. It’s going to go out of the target. A second before it does, Grogu moves the stick and fires.

The dragon thrashed left suddenly, and Grogu hits it there, somehow, squarely in the head where it exposed its fish-like eye. There’s a dull thud as bone and flesh cave in, and the creature falls silently, bouncing off the rock, dead before it hits the ground.

“That was brutal, damn,” Din says.

Grogu narrows his eyes and wiggles the stick around again as if to make a point.

“Alright, but I never said I didn’t think you could do it,” he responds. “I just thought it might be difficult. You’re okay with killing them, right? I mean, we needed to, but you’re not going to get sad or anything?”

Grogu says, “Mm,” and repeats the sound a few times.

“That’s good.”

They land beside the mountain. The others are flying around overhead and Din can’t tell what’s going on. Another dragon bursts out of the nest, a young one this time — it can’t fly as well as the others but there’s a Mandalorian on its back so Din supposes that doesn’t really help.

It’s Paz.

Of course, it’s Paz.

Paz stabs the beast multiple times with his vibro-knife, and Din realises that it’s snatched Ragnar in its claws. It then decides to drop Ragnar and focus on the Mandalorian stabbing it in the side, scraping its claws across its flesh in an effort to dislodge him, and there’s a hiss and a crackle as one of its claws impales his jetpack. 

Din curses, but Paz is fast enough — he takes it off and a moment before it explodes in a burst of colourful gas he thwacks his jetpack off the dragon’s head, effectively taking it out.

Someone catches Ragnar in mid-air, but Paz… Paz is falling fast.

Din switches his jetpack on. Okay, Paz is like double his weight, but—

Grogu shoves him aside with an invisible push. Din stumbles, glancing back to Grogu whose hand is outstretched towards the plummeting Mandalorian. Paz’s fall slows, he twitches in the air, confused, then he seems to notice Grogu and probably realises what’s going on. Grogu manages to stop him from slamming into the ground full force but from the distance and Grogu’s exhaustion from using the Force earlier, Din supposes that bone-breaking-crunch-fall is probably the best he could do. Beats bone-shattering, or, meat-pancake, which would probably have been the case if he hadn’t intervened. 

Grogu’s eyes flutter. Din grabs him before he falls over and tucks him into his chest. 

Now he has no free arms.

Paz is alive. He groans and tries to sit up, and Din helps him but pushes him back down when he tries to stand.

“No, wait, your bones are—”

“They’re fine,” Paz growls. “Ragnar—”

“Bo-Katan caught him,” Din says.

Paz groans, then he goes slack and Din doesn’t have the arm availability to prevent him from hitting the ground.

“Kriff, okay, he fell like two inches this time, he’ll be fine,” he says to Grogu who is fast asleep.

The other Mandalorians crowd around them; it takes three to lift Paz up as carefully as possible and move him inside the cave. 

Three dragons still circle overhead. Abruptly, they change direction — seems like they’ve had enough of the Mandalorians and have decided to launch a revenge attack. Great. 

Din sighs heavily. He bundles Grogu into the fold of his bandages and ignites the darksaber, pointing it towards the sky. At least now they’re focused on him and not the cave.

But he’s got Grogu. He needs to keep Grogu safe. 

Din realises that he can’t do this part one-armed.

He’s about to make a run for it and give up the location of the cave in exchange for Grogu’s safety when the blaster fire pings off the scales of the dragon. Pieces of scale rip off and embed into the rock like shrapnel. The dragons roar and turn their attention to…

Boba Fett’s ship?

Din could pass out then and there.

The guns bombard the remaining dragons with enough firepower to essentially obliterate them, and litter their scaly corpses across the ground. 

Boba-Fett lands his ship with a whoosh of hot air. Din stares as he lowers the landing ramp and marches towards him, Fennec following closely.

“Thought you could use a hand,” says the gruff voice. Din tries to speak but his legs decide to give out. 

“Woah, there.” Boba keeps him upright with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside, Manda’lor,” he says.

“Someone oughta throw you in a bacta tank,” says Fennec.

“We don’t have a bacta tank.” Bo-Katan scowls from the cave entrance. “What are you doing here, Fett?”

“I heard there was a get-together. Someone must’ve missed my invitation.”

“Maybe you weren’t invited.” 

“Stop,” Din rasps, breathing heavily, he lifts his hand. “They’re my friends.”

“We just saved your skins,” Boba inclines his head towards the scattered dragon corpses. 

“We had it under control.” Bo-Katan grits her teeth.

“Sure, princess.”

The others have ebbed out of the cave and crowded around. 

One of Clan куяαу¢ speaks out. “вαℓу¢’мαи∂σ?” they ask, hesitantly.

“I am Boba Fett, son of Jango Fett.”

Din feels like he’s heard that name before… maybe Boba’s father was someone important?

“In his honour, let’s not start another civil war on Mandalore.”

—

“So… what did your dad do?” Din asks as Boba smothers more bacta over his messed-up arm.

“You really are clueless, you know,” Boba says, stating a fact. “It might be why everyone likes you so much.”

Din doesn’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.

“My father,” Boba starts, “was Mand’alor for a brief period. During the Mandalorian civil war.”

“Oh.”

“Death Watch murdered his family when he was a child, and he was taken in by the Manda’lor, Jaster Mereel — whom he came to see as his father. Jaster was then killed by Death Watch in a battle. As the new Manda’lor, he led his forces against Tor Vizsla, but Death Watch came up with a ploy to make it seem as though my father’s forces had murdered innocents, begging the Jedi Council to step in. 

“The Jedi came to interfere, and it was a bloody fight. My father killed six Jedi with his bare hands. But it was no good; Death Watch had wiped his forces out, and then sold him into slavery.”

Din just stares. Six Jedi. “And then…?”

“Well then he escaped slavery,” Boba says. “Came back for revenge against Tor Vizsla and killed him. Death Watch fled to the far reaches of the galaxy, and my father grew tired of a life without conflict as the Mand’alor, so he became a bounty hunter instead.”

Din hisses as Boba wraps another set of fresh bandages around his arm. “Why do you hate Bo-Katan?”

“She’s prejudiced. Thinks being Mandalorian is about something more than following the code of honour and wearing the armour.” 

“I think we’re friends now,” Din says.

“I’m not surprised.” 

“If Death Watch was your father’s enemy, why don’t you hate me and my covert?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Din.”

Right. “Did your father not have the darksaber when he was Mand’alor?”

“That damn blade was Death Watch’s symbol of power. No, my father had nothing to do with it. When he killed Tor Vizsla, it passed on to Pre Vizsla, and then some crazy Sith got a hold of it.”

“Then, why does Bo-Katan think it’s so important?” 

“Because Bo-Katan isn’t as innocent in all of this as she makes herself out to be. She joined Death Watch under Pre Vizsla, so to her understanding, the blade allows her to rightfully lead her clan, the Nite Owls, which is also a fracture group of the original Death Watch.”

“Wait, so, we’re all Death Watch?”

“Seems that way.” Boba stretches back on a rock and watches Din, as if trying to figure him out from under the helmet. “What do you make of it?” he asks eventually.

“It’s just a weirdly shaped lightsaber. I offered it to a Jedi and he didn’t want it either.” 

Boba Fett laughs out loud. “You did, did you? You should tell Bo-Katan that. The look on her face would be worth a million credits.” 

“Then… I won’t.”

“Have it your way. If I were you, I’d chuck it over a cliff.”

“But it…”

Boba tilts his head, eyes narrowing.

“It goes really well with my armour.” 

Boba takes a deep breath. He covers his mouth and his shoulders twitch. Din thinks he’s laughing again.

“But it also seems to have accepted me as its wielder. Something to do with the kyber crystal?”

“Then, keep it,” Boba says. “You’re right. It looks nice.”

Chapter Text

When he told Luke to follow him to his covert, he knew what sort of welcome to expect. News of his transgressions had spread thickly throughout his people by that point. 

He returned because it was home. Because he had the darksaber and he didn’t know what to do with it.

The caves were cold, thawed only by the blue-orange light of the forge. His fellow Mandalorians watched from the shadows. 

“I will go to Mandalore and bathe in the living waters,” he told the Armourer. “May I stay here for a time to learn how to wield the darksaber?”

“Who will teach you?”

“A Jedi has offered.”

“We will have to relocate if you have given up our location to a Jedi.”

“You can move the covert to Kalevala. That’s where Bo-Katan Kryze is.”

“Why would we be welcome there?”

“She wants to retake Mandalore. She needs Mandalorians to help her.” 

A long pause. “Do you wish to join her?”

“I must go to Mandalore to redeem myself.” 

The Armourer turned away, back to her work at the forge. “There is no reason for me to do as you say,” she said. “You have turned your back on The Way, and on your tribe.”

Din shrank backwards at the clang of beskar. “This is The Way,” he said.

The Armourer told him to wait inside, so he found a place deep within the caves where hopefully no one would find him, where the only light to show him the way came from his helmet. 

He was grateful for it. When you live your life surrounded by people who don’t show their faces, you learn quickly to read the room. The set of someone’s shoulders. The position of their feet. Even the placement of their hands. It all tells you something.

Apostate.

Traitor.

Apostate.

Failure.

Weak.

Unworthy.

Apostate.

—

Din sleeps for approximately two hours before he’s woken up by raised voices outside the tent. 

“But Din Djarin will know what to do!”

“It’s none of our business kid. Let them deal with their kid how they want.”

“But he’s not their kid!” Ragnar yells. “Let me through!” 

Din sits up dazedly as Ragnar shoves his way into the tent.

“Sorry,” says Koska. “I can tie him up outside if you want.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Din waves a hand.

Koska shrugs and retreats back outside, dropping the flap of the tent back over the entrance. 

Ragnar waits for her to be gone. “Okay, listen.” He slams both hands onto the mattress with a thud. “They want Kymir to go back down and live in the caves, and he’s just gonna go with them even though I know he doesn’t want to! You need to stop them. You’re the Mand'alor so they’ll listen to you.”

Kriff, Din thinks. 

It’s Myra¢ who speaks to Kymir. She crouches in front of him in a small alcove in the rocks and yells at him because he isn’t listening.

Din considers his options.

He can’t kick her into the living waters. 

Can he reason with her? Someone like that? 

Her entire clan believes that they have to redeem themselves for betraying Mandalore by spending their lives underground in the mines. They all have vitamin deficiencies and are severely malnourished. They might never be able to lead normal lives again.

He makes a decision.

“Kymir.” 

Myra¢’s head snaps towards him with an ugly scowl as he approaches. “υѕєи’ує,” she says. Piss off.

“No, you’ll hear me out,” Din says. “Punishing yourselves for the actions of your ancestors is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m part of a clan that doesn’t let me show my face to my kid.”

Kymir looks at him like he’s a mythosaur or something.

“You don’t have to live that way. I’m the Mand'alor, and I’m telling you that if you really want to make up for whatever sins you think you’ve committed, at least make yourselves useful and help take Mandalore back instead of just hurting each other.”

“There is no hope,” says Myra¢. “Mandalore is lost. Clan ѕσℓυѕ will never let us make things back the way they are supposed to be.” 

“We can beat them,” Din says. “I will reason with them.”

“They are мαи∂σ killers.”

He pauses. “Do they wear white?”

“Yes.”

They’re imperial. 

Din clenches his fist. 

Then there will be no reasoning with them. He will make the Empire leave Mandalore and make sure that they never come back.

“They are the true enemy,” he says. “They are the ones who we need to defeat. The enemies of the past are not our enemies any longer.” 

Myra¢’s eyes widen. “If we defeat this enemy, we are иι ¢єтα?”

Din sighs. Redemption. He’s been thinking about that word a lot recently. “If we defeat the Empire, Mandalore is free. If that is redemption to you, then fine, but redemption and forgiveness are meaningless when no wrong has been committed.”

Myra¢ nods. “Mandalore taken by ¢ιи ѕσℓυѕ is indeed wrong.” ¢ιи ѕσℓυѕ — the white ones. “I will help you. My tribe will also.” 

“Thank you,” Din says. 

She gets up, glancing at Kymir one last time. 

“Kymir is my α∂є. You will not speak with him without asking my permission.”

She looks at him, face hardening. “That is—”

“I don’t trust you not to accost him. Tell me if you want to speak to him, and I will ask him if he feels like speaking to you. You can go now.” 

She hesitates for a moment, and Din fears she might have something else to add, but she presses her lips together and walks away.

Din barely has time to move his arm out of the way before Kymir crashes into him with a hug. 

“Ow,” Din says. He rests his hand on the boy’s head and his arms tighten around Din’s waist. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs.

“ℓιѕєя α∂є?” he asks in a shaky voice. I’m your son?

“That’s what I said.” Din kneels down to be level with his eyes. He lifts his hand from Kymir’s shoulder and holds the edge of his helmet. 

Then he takes it off.

“You are” — Din manages to meet his eyes for a fleeting moment — “part of my αℓιιт.”

“Clan of four,” Kymir speaks.

Din smiles softly. “Just three for now.”

Kymir reaches out to touch a lock of Din’s hair with his fingertips. He gets twisty pieces that fall over his face. He doesn’t really know what to do with them.

Din screws his eyes shut and Kymir pulls back. 

But it’s okay. Din glances at his eyes again. They’re a brighter blue than he thought, and the scars on his face shimmer in the light like the embers left over from a fire. 

It will be difficult to get used to this.

“It feels really… wrong, doesn’t it?” he says.

Kymir bites his lip and nods. 

Din sighs heavily. “Okay, there’s something I have to do now.”

“иι ѕℓαиαя тι.” I’ll come with you.

“Thank you.” 

—

The Armourer, to say the least, is shocked when Din walks in without his helmet on.

She drops her tools and they fall to the floor with a clatter. She stares at him across the workbench. 

Din can’t meet her eyes. He places his helmet on the table, facing her, and takes a deep breath.

“Din,” she says.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I broke the creed.”

She reaches up and, for a moment, Din thinks she’s going to strike him. She doesn’t. Instead, she lets her hands fall behind his head and pulls him closer. He isn’t sure what she’s doing, but then he gets it. 

His forehead touches the cool beskar of her helmet and he stands there for a moment, like that, with the workbench between them.

He pulls back, though stays close. “You went to Kalevala,” he says.

“Indeed.” 

Din presses his lips together. Why?

“I did not wish to lose you,” she says. “Are you lost to us now, Din Djarin?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You see yourself in him,” the Armourer says. Kymir’s reflection is in the darkness of her visor.

“I didn’t…” Din takes a deep breath. He puts his good hand on her arm. “I didn’t want to lose my people. I understand why the creed is important to you, and why it is important to our clan, but it is not… it is no longer the way I wish to live.”

“You value family above all else,” the Armourer says. “This, Din Djarin, is why you are the best of all of us.” 

Din swallows thickly. “I’m not. I don’t understand our history.” 

“Another virtue. You do not believe in vengeance. It is honourable to fight in battle, but it is more honourable to fight the right battles.”

“But I have brought shame to my clan.” 

“Mandalorians are united by the Mand'alor. You must walk the path that unites us all.” 

“Perhaps they will see me as a coward.” 

“When one chooses to bear the responsibility of the Mand'alor, how can one be a coward?”

“I don’t understand. I thought you would be upset.” 

“There is no sense in forcing others to follow a lifestyle that does not suit them. And I do not wish to mimic what Clan куяαу¢ have done to their foundlings, as I fear we did under our previous tribe leader.”

The other Armourer. The silver one. 

“After he passed… you were more gentle with the foundlings,” Din says. “You allowed Ragnar more time than they had before he swore the creed.”

“The Way is crucial to the Children of the Watch and our way of life.” She lifts his helmet from the workbench, turning it in her hands. “I hereby banish you from our tribe, Mand’alor Din Djarin.” 

Now, you must find your own Way.”

—

The Armourer keeps his helmet. Din doesn’t ask questions. She made it, after all. He’s lucky she doesn’t ask for all of his armour back.

He steps out of the tent with Kymir by his side. 

This is fine.

It actually went a lot better than he thought.

The other Mandalorians are busy polishing their armour or fiddling with weapons. Some were injured in the dragon attack so are being treated or cradling wounds. None of them really look at him. Din realises with a faint sense of amusement that they probably don’t recognise him.

Of course, Bo-Katan does recognise him.

She stops in her path, staring straight at him for a length of time that drags out in Din’s mind far longer than it probably is in reality.

He drops his gaze to the floor, lifting his shoulders as if he can shield his face from her gaze somehow.

“Din, respectfully, what the kriff.”

“I left my covert,” he says.

“I thought you might,” she says, carefully. She purses her lips, steps closer so that they’re within normal speaking distance. “The Armourer wasn’t sure.”

“Boba Fett says you were a terrorist.” 

“Okay.” Bo Katan’s face slides into a stretched smile. “I’ll stop prying. Do you want to go inside?” 

“I need to talk to you about Clan ѕσℓυѕ,” Din says as they step into her tent. He lets Kymir run off to find Grogu. 

Bo-Katan sits on a rock, crosses her legs, and makes a point of looking anywhere but Din’s face. “What about them?”

“They, um. You can look at me… just don’t…”

“Stare?” She scoffs. “Din, that’s how people talk.” 

“Some people don’t like eye contact.” 

Bo-Katan sighs. “If you want to look at my face when you’re talking to me, and I want to look at your face, we are going to be looking at each other.”

“Dank farrik,” Din says softly.  

Bo-Katan is silent for a moment. “How about this? I’ll clean my blaster while we talk, and then I won’t be looking at you as much.”

“Okay.” 

“Well?” Bo-Katan picks up the blaster and starts polishing it with a cloth.

“They’re Imperial. Why are they on the planet?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. Myra¢ called them ¢ιи ѕσℓυѕ. White ones. I think they’re stormtroopers.” 

“They could be those who joined the Empire before the Great Purge.”

“Tell me about the Purge,” Din says.

“Tell me what you know, and then I’ll fill in the gaps.”

“The Mandalorians who inhabited Mandalore were weak and peace-loving, and could not oppose the Empire. Eventually, they were destroyed.”

Bo-Katan laughs shortly. “I see. That’s approximately none of the story.” 

“Then, explain.”

“Mandalore was indeed ruled by pacifist Mandalorians under my sister, Satine, after Death Watch was scattered. I disagreed with my sister; I felt that her pacifist teachings were a disgrace to Mandalorian culture and to our warrior path, so I joined Death Watch under Pre Vizsla. We staged a plot to retake Mandalore and allied ourselves with two Sith. Do you know what a Sith is? They’re Jedi but evil. One of them, the master, Darth Maul, challenged Vizsla and killed him, thereby instating himself as our leader. This was the event that left Death Watch shattered. I led those of us who refused to pledge our loyalty to a Sith against Maul, and asked for the Republic to aid us, but I was too late. He killed Satine — I think it was supposed to be some sort of revenge against her Jedi lover whom he hated. After that, I tried to lead our people. When the war ended, I refused to join the Empire, and Clan Saxon was put in power.”

This led to another civil war for our people, where some accepted the Empire’s rule and others resisted. Eventually, I came across the darksaber which was given to me by a young Mandalorian from Clan Wren, and I again claimed the title of Mand’alor. I united the clans against the Empire, however, some, such as the Children of the Watch, did not accept my rule as I was gifted the darksaber and had not won it in combat.”

The Empire fought back of course, and bombed Mandalore in the Night of a Thousand Tears. My only hope to prevent the genocide of our people was to give up the darksaber to Moff Gideon. It was the most shameful, and most desperate thing I have ever done, and still, it made no difference.”

“I’m sorry,” Din says, lightly touching the bandages on this arm. “About your sister.” 

Bo-Katan smiles. “I’m sorry too.”

“What happened to the Jedi?”

“I expect he probably died under Order 66. You know that there was a genocide of the Jedi as well?”

“I heard that they were hunted down… I didn’t realise that, in both of our cases, it was…”

“As efficient?” Bo-Katan finishes. “Yes, the Empire was nothing if not efficient at stamping out our cultures from the galaxy.” 

“How do we make sure this can’t happen again?”

Bo-Katan’s eyes meet his for a fleeting second. “Perhaps it’s inevitable.” 

“How can that be?”

“We war among ourselves and weaken each other and make ourselves easy prey. As long as there is the possibility for division among people, there is always the threat of a hunter taking advantage of our weakness.” 

“I will think about this. Thank you for speaking with me.” 

“It’s fine…” Bo-Katan narrows her eyes. “I know what I’m talking about when it comes to Mandalore’s history and conflicts. For now, what do you want to do about ¢ιи ѕσℓυѕ?”

“Let’s find out where they are and what they’re doing. But… only once the clans have recovered from the attack. I think we can use the mines as a hide-out, so I want to move everyone deeper underground.”

“Time spent idly is time for tensions to fester.” 

“Better to get it out now.”

“You want them to fight?”

“I can’t see how they would have anything worth fighting about,” Din says with a shrug. “I want them to realise that.” 

“This could backfire, you know. If things don’t work out—” 

Din sighs. “I know.”

If it doesn’t work out, Bo-Katan will challenge him for his right to rule.

Though the darksaber means nothing to him, and will likely fade into obsoletion in the future if their people manage to reestablish themselves, it means something now. 

If his people are divided, and the only way to unite them is with this sword, then…

“This is The Way,” says Din.

Chapter Text

“Your orders, Grand Admiral,” begins Moff Gideon, white teeth gleaming as his face is split by a leer, “are to remain above Dathomir with the package secure, then assist the mission with troopers when ordered. The Moffs have agreed that, with your tactical expertise, this should be no difficult task.” 

The holo-projection flickers, and Thrawn’s eyes narrow, fierce enough to burn right through the image. 

“You believe following the guidance of this individual will bring strength back to the Empire?”

“It is the will of the Emperor. You are loyal to the Emperor, aren’t you, Thrawn?”

—

Circe’s bone-white fingers relinquish the body of the Sith girl to Mother Talzin’s spirit before Ahsoka can interject. 

Ezra grips her outstretched arm and shakes his head. Ahsoka meets his dark blue eyes. 

Fine, she won’t say anything. The girl’s dead now, anyway. But Mother Talzin is not her friend, nor is she Ezra’s, so Ahsoka will keep her senses sharp for the slightest inclination that she or her friends might be next to be sacrificed to the witch’s ends. 

The inside of the cave is warm and claustrophobic, almost volcanic with the intensity of dark magic churning through the air and rock. Mayan’s feathers glisten with sweat and Ahsoka wipes her forehead with her sleeve. 

“Do you want to go outside?” 

Mayan’s eyes are firm. “I have to stay. It might help me understand more about the force.” 

“I sense conflict,” Ahsoka whispers. “I want you to be careful, I think—”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, I don’t want you to be in danger.” 

“I’m not in danger, the Force knows what it’s doing.”

Ahsoka swallows her concern as the night sisters begin their ritual.

Circe grasps hands with seven night sisters, the one in the centre with the glowing green eyes is the host of Mother Talzin’s spirit. They chant in a strange language and their overlapping voices echo off every crevice in the ruins. Finally, the green wisps of magic pick up in a trail, sparks drifting into planets to form recognisable planetary systems, the galaxy, and the green thread unravels to form a route. 

Except… 

“It’s here,” Ezra murmurs, fingertips brushing the magic. He looks at Ahsoka. “Ahsoka, it’s here. Look, the trail circles around the planet, loops around Mandalore, then fades away into the unknown.” 

Ahsoka’s nerves twinge. “Mandalore? I don’t understand.”

“Circe said the trail was faint but would lead us to Palpatine. There has to be something going on there. That’s where you go next, okay?” His voice holds forlornness by the end. Ahsoka knows why, and is lost for words.

Sabine is the one who clamps a hand on his shoulder. “You won’t get stuck here. I won’t let it happen.”

“The key is really nearby,” Ezra continues, eyes adrift. “So I think I know why Thrawn wanted to speak to me.”

“It’s true,” the voice of Mother Talzin rasps, reverberating. “The key of Dathomir is above us in the starship, though the path to the Sith Lord remains unclear.” 

“Fuck,” Sabine curses, “how do we get on board? We don’t have a ship.”  

“We don’t need one,” Ezra says. 

Sabine stiffens beside him. “Ezra, you know how I feel about the witch magic…”

“Yeah, and I also know how you feel about Thrawn. That’s why I’m going alone.” 

“No way.”

“Yes way. If Thrawn thinks we’ll fail he’ll leave and everything will have been for nothing, Sabine. This is more than just bad guys versus good guys.”

“And what if Thrawn decides it’s too risky and that he’s better off helping Palpatine?” Sabine snaps. “That’s what people like him are like, Ezra. If you really do know him as well as you think you do, then you know it’s true.”

“Fine. Fine!” Ezra’s voice breaks. “I won’t trust the guy who helped me survive when I was Force knows where and I’d just lost everything. You just…” His hands shake. “You just think he’s a bad person ‘cause he worked for the Empire, but there’s more to it! Sometimes people do bad things for good reasons. I crashed the Chimera, Sabine. I killed hundreds of people. If I can’t believe that it was all for a greater cause, how can I live with myself? How?” Ezra takes a deep breath. Sabine purses her lips in silence. “Thrawn and I are the same, so yes, I know he might leave us all to die if he decides it’s the lesser evil. That’s why I have to prove to him that it’s not. That purpose is more than the greater good or his duty to his people!”

Ahsoka isn’t sure that she follows parts of what Ezra says — some of it's lost under layers of a story that he hasn’t told — but she gets the gist of it. 

“I get it,” she says. Dizziness slams into her but she holds steady. “Nothing is ever straightforward. There is good in evil and evil in good. But most of all, you have to trust your instincts. May the Force be with you, Ezra.”

“And you,” Ezra says, worry crossing his features.

Because it’s dragging her in. 

“I’m going to try and stall him for as long as I can,” she says. 

“W-what, no, Ahsoka!” She hears Ezra’s panicked voice. “It’s too dangerous, he’ll…” He holds her up as her legs give out.

Her eyes swirl with darkness and her head slips under. 

Ahsoka tries to speak but doesn’t know if the words emerge: 

“Trust each other. Trust the Force.”

—

The magic tethering her to Dathomir tugs sharply on her wrist as she falls again into the familiar darkness. And then stops. Ahsoka can hear her breaths this time, sharp and cutting, and she scrambles to her feet, searching for —

“You…”

“Get away from him,” Ahsoka snarls. Leia’s lightsaber ignites with a burst of blue.

Palpatine, or whatever’s left of him, has found them. His dark cloak drowns his physical form, making him almost impossible to discern from the flickering darkness, if it wasn’t for the ghastly, misshapen white of his face. Yellow eyes melt through the darkness, and grey lips stretch in a triumphant gleam. 

“He is of no more importance,” Palpatine snarls.

Maul’s body twitches in the air, hands grasping desperately at his throat.

“Let him go,” Ahsoka says.

“S-sever our dyad,” Maul gasps. “Don’t let… don’t let him…”

Ahsoka rips her arm free of the green string.

“No!” Maul cries.

Now there is no going back.

“I will not leave you with him.”

Palpatine’s laughter crackles through the darkest veins of the force as his face distorts. “You cannot defeat me. All of your pathetic little friends will die and you will regret the day you did not join your master in embracing the dark side.” 

Ahsoka reaches out. “You forget,” she says, “that my light is stronger than your darkness.”

“Ahsoka.” 

The voice of a goddess. Pale and shimmering, cyan, gold, ethereal and bright.

“The Force surrounds you.”  

The corners of her lips lift. “Do you understand, Sidious?”

Palpatine’s eyes widen under his misshapen flesh when he realises what she can do. “No,” he snarls. “No!” 

Ahsoka shatters the dark and the light blinds her.

The star-like flickers of light spark with energy as the space between them tears wide open. The darkness rips and dissipates like ash, and with it, Palpatine. 

Light spills through, finally, and Ahsoka falls to her knees, clutching her chest. 

And hears her.

“The Force is with you, Ahsoka Tano. You must return the balance. It is your destiny.”  

They can make this right. They can return the darkness to shadow. 

Or die trying.

She lifts her head. 

“Are you alright?” she asks Maul.

Maul’s chest constricts and his shoulders follow in rapid shudders. He doesn’t speak. His eyes remain fixed on the spot Palpatine vanished from. 

Ahsoka watches as he brings his arms up slowly and clutches his head. She feels the skin of his palms tear before she sees the blood drip in rivets down his face.

“Maul.”

He looks at her and Ahsoka freezes.

Terror. 

A man who has died twice and is now more scared of living than dying.

Ahsoka blinks hard. “I can’t keep him out forever,” she says. (Force-science is complicated.) Her soul, or, the daughter’s soul, should naturally reabsorb the light energy and the darkness will be able to erode back in. 

“Why didn’t you sever the dyad?” Maul wails. “You could have kept him from returning to the physical world but instead you chose to preserve me? Our hatred, destroying this man is all we have in common! It’s the only reason I—”

“It’s not the reason you’re here,” Ahsoka says.

“Then why?” he cries, hands pressing into horns. The bleeding is invisible against the crimson of his marbled skin. “Why does it never end?” His voice grows faint until Ahsoka can’t make out the words anymore.  

“We found a way to fix this,” Ahsoka tries. She approaches the cowering former Sith with cautious steps. “The galaxy is messed up right now, but there is a way to return the darkness to shadow, the way it’s supposed to be.”

Maul laughs, dry and rasping. “Nothing to do with me.” His gaze hits her, crazed. “It’s nothing to do with. I’m nothing. I am… far below, so… far…”

Ahsoka’s fingertips ghost the muscles of his forearms. Maul startles and scrambles back with a jolt and Ahsoka remains crouched, fingers curling back. “Maul,” she whispers, “I’m sorry. I know saving you probably feels to you as though I’ve condemned you to a fate worse than death.”

His lips part. “You aren’t even going to add anything else, are you?”

Ahsoka looks at him. “What would you add?”

“That there’s” — his voice hitches, eyes desperately avoiding hers — “some sort of hope. Jedi, light-side, nonsense.”

“Do you believe that?”

“No. I believe nothing. I am nothing. Everything in my life has turned to ash — if it ever was anything to begin with.”

“We all begin as nothing.” The new light makes the tracks of blood on his forehead gleam. Ahsoka wants to fix his hands, somehow. He will need them to face what is to come. Maul’s broken eyes search her face, and maybe they aren’t as yellow as she first thought, but they’re empty, in a desperate, starving way. She continues, “But we make something of ourselves. You never had that chance. You were part of the darkness, Maul — it fed from you as you fed from it — and so you became nothing. A shadow cast by your Sith master.”

Maybe it's time to begin again.”

—

The starship looms above the planet, a dull, muted colour like rotten flowers interspersed between swirling, impenetrable mist. It makes it impossible to pick up life forms on any of their scanners. The woman is getting on in her years, though still has a youthful spark to her brown eyes, and her hair is only threaded with grey. 

“Grand Admiral, Sir, permission to speak freely?”

“Permission granted, commodore Faro. You know I always value your input.”

“Well, Sir, we’re kriffed.” 

Thrawn’s red eyes glow as he turns his head towards her from where he stands at the viewport, hands clasped behind his back. “What makes you think so?”

Faro keeps her voice low. She dips her head towards his shoulder to hide their conversation from the bridge. “There is absolutely no way to transport the package to the planet’s surface without attracting the attention of the Moffs. Additionally, a drop-off requires a pick-up, and we have no way to communicate with anyone on the surface of the planet.”

“You make valid points,” Thrawn says.

Faro nods glumly. She waits for Thrawn to speak, and offer a glimpse into his grand plan, but the seconds tick by and sweat prickles under her uniform.

“Sir,” Faro begins, “what are we going to do, then?”

“Nothing,” Thrawn replies.

“Nothing,” Faro repeats. Nothing. What does he mean? Is this some sort of riddle? Thrawn will take no further course of action, yet he knows the only way to achieve their objective is to transport the package to the individuals below. Faro tries to piece this together. She comes up with nothing. 

“You feel another course of action would be more helpful,” Thrawn states.

“Why not send a squadron to the planet’s surface and hide the package on the transport? That would gain the attention of the inhabitants and—”

“Commodore,” Thrawn interrupts smoothly, “no one can leave or enter Dathomir. Were I to break protocol, the Moffs would immediately suspect something was amiss and order me to be executed. They would then fight among themselves and destroy everything that is left of the Empire’s resources.”

“He sent you here to die, sir.”

“Really?” Thrawn seems genuinely surprised.

Faro takes a deep breath. Somehow, Thrawn is still utterly incompetent in politics. The only reason he’s survived so long is because he literally got thrown out of the ring. “Whoever this Snoke person is, his influence over the Moffs has no limits. And somehow, he knows everything the Emperor did, about you, and about the Moffs — it’s almost as though they’re…”

“Brainwashed?”

Faro purses her lips “Yes.”

“It is impossible to brainwash a chiss.”

Faro rolls her eyes. 

“Our intellect is far superior,” Thrawn goes on. “Though, I suspect select human individuals such as yourself and Lieutenant Vanto would be immune also.” 

“Thanks, Sir.”

“The reason I am not sure what to do is because I am out of my depth,” Thrawn admits. “There are politics at play that I do not understand and variables that I am uncertain of, or perhaps do not even exist. Additionally, the success of this mission lies in the hands of those individuals on the planet below, though, even if they manage to discover the reason why Dathomir is so important to Snoke’s grand plan, they will then have to figure out how to stop it. That means they will require the package. You believe Snoke sent me here to be eliminated? If so, I think he expected me to drop the package immediately and eliminate me on the basis of treason. I therefore suspect that the package is, in fact, not the key to preventing Snoke’s plans to somehow resurrect the Emperor.”

“But you obviously aren’t going to fall for such an obvious trap.”

“He believes I will become desperate. If the Emperor returns, ultimately, I have failed in my sole purpose in life, my sole reason for existence. Should that happen, death would be a small mercy.” 

“He wants you to drop the package, but because you can’t lose your position as Grand Admiral, you won’t until you’re truly desperate. Then, when you drop it, it will be too late. Snoke’s plan will succeed and he will order your execution for treason.”

“Nicely put, commodore.” 

“In that case, I still think we’re kriffed, Sir.” 

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Thrawn turns back to the viewport, and Faro catches the edge of his mouth lifting in the Thrawn equivalent of a smile. “Though, Jedi never cease to surprise me.” 

—

Dathomir was once a grand civilisation of witches, united under the most powerful witch the planet had ever seen, Talzin. After uniting the warring covens, Talzin sought to grow her power.

She had three sons. 

The first two were weak and therefore useless. 

The third child was the one she had been waiting for. She named him Maul and raised him among the night sisters, hoping he would become stronger surrounded by the night sister magic. Maul was a quiet child. Well behaved, respectful to the sisters, and in turn they doted on him. Maul never went hungry, was never sick, and did not suffer, because Talzin knew her child would need to grow strong now to face the path set out for him.

“This is my son, Maul. He is our most prized s… fine… 

He is—”

Maul.”

“Mother?”

A hand on his chin, pinching, examining, looking at him like—

“Do we have a deal?”

A voice that was nothing but evil in its purest, rawest form: “You seek the power of the dark side. I believe we can mutually benefit each other.” 

“Darth Sidious stole my beloved son from me!”

He clutches his head. 

“Lotho Minor. There you will find your brother, Maul.” 

“There you will find—”

“There you will fin—”

Mother, why did you not come for me sooner? Why did you leave me there to suffer and rot? Why was I cast aside, even by you, who loved me? 

(My beloved son, Maul.) 

(Beloved.)

(My son, Maul.)

(Son.)

“—Maul. He is our most prized specimen. He will make a fine apprentice. He is my gift to you. ”

It’s not true.

In the end, Talzin gave her life so Maul could escape from Palpatine, and Maul returned to the Black Sun, believing that his mother gave her life so he could live, the only person who loved him, his mother, who—

“Who is the most powerful dark-sider after Darth Sidious? Mother was always trying to become more powerful.”

In death, Mother Talzin was not destroyed. Her spirit lived on deep in the ruins of the night sister temple, until finally, salvation. A traveller through the force, one she could latch on to, one she could use — a sworn night brother.

“And now you’re a night brother. Congratulations.”

“Whaaat? That was it? I thought I’d have to sacrifice some blood or something! Hey, do I get cool tattoos?”

“No.”

“Maul! Why not? Actually, Hera would kill me if I got tattoos.”

“Mother must bind you in blood to the Dathomir witches to mark your skin.” 

“Sounds creepy."

“I would not advise it. Do not answer to anyone — Sith are their own masters.”

“Ok, but I’m not a Sith.”

And he would not become one.

Ahsoka opened her eyes. Maul blinked back at her. He doesn’t mind sitting closer to her, because… And he hadn’t tried to decapitate her with his lightsaber every time she appeared in this place. However… she seemed upset. 

“You know, maybe if you hadn’t tried to turn Ezra to the dark side, none of this would have happened.” 

Maul thought of the way Ezra’s eyes had gleamed with lust for power, with desperation to save the people he loved. Maul understood those sentiments. His mother loved him. He loved his mother and would have done the same for her, so that they could protect each other.

Savage was a good brother. Loyal and strong. He was a worthy apprentice.

But in the end…

“I’m not like you, brother. I never was.”

Maul’s face twisted into an almost snarl. “And if I wasn’t here, you would never even know he was back in the first place. Or where he is.” 

“I guess that means we aren’t any worse off.”

“It’s not Jedi-like to fixate on the past.”

“I told you I’m not a Jedi.”

“Then so what if Ezra isn’t either?” He leaned back on the palm of his hand. “So what if he’s a little bit… Sith?”

Her eyes were narrowed — knowing. Maul’s skin prickled. “Maul, did you honestly like being a Sith?”

Enjoyment was an interesting concept. Maul could count on two hands the number of times he had actually experienced joy in his life. 

One hand, if that joy didn’t involve the suffering of others. 

But his truest, most happiest, joyful moment was his masterful revenge against Kenobi. Maul savoured that moment. He built a shrine to it, desperate to cling to it — to never lose that buzz in his chest when he remembered how those blue eyes had shattered and gone dark just as he had suffered for all those miserable years on Lotho Minor. 

Just as they had broken when he killed the master. 

Except, this time, no vengeance was sought. Kenobi did not give in to his rage.

He cradled her head in his hands, eyes brimming with grief, regret, love, and in that moment, Maul understood something terrible. Something that would forever leave this moment with a bitter aftertaste, and leave him chasing this man to squeeze every last drop of love and joy and goodness and —

Because it wasn’t about him. (Kenobi only saw her.)

He was a fool. Kenobi did not even see him. No matter what he did, no matter the pain he caused his greatest nemesis, Maul would never be seen, because —

He was nothing. 

And Kenobi knew. 

Maul would never overcome his hatred; it burned under his skin, festered in the aches in his bones, in the fire in his nerves where the metal legs bore into his torso. 

He was nothing and Kenobi knew and Kenobi would never see him.

Maul had lived his whole life clinging to every thread of self-pity. Every moment he suffered. Every injustice. Every cruelty. 

He never thought he would come to loathe himself just as much as the world. 

While dead in the unknown, before she somehow broke through to pester him with her incessant questions about matters of the living, Maul had a lot of time to think. 

He suffered on Lotho Minor because of his master. Sidious, if he cared, could have found Maul and saved him — as he had with Vader. But he had not.

Maul suffered at the hands of Sideous because his mother did not love him, and traded him away for knowledge of the dark side, and power. 

The worst part of all, perhaps, was that his mother knew the whole time that he was still alive, and he had still deluded himself into thinking she was the only one in this wretched world who loved him.

His mother knew she could easily fix him — like a broken droid to be put to use again — when the time suited her. 

All his life, he was used as a tool by others who fuelled him with hatred through their cruelty towards him.

And that is why, in the end, when he faced Kenobi on the sands of Tatooine, with all of his hatred for everything in his life, Maul was nothing in the face of Kenobi’s empathy.

Pity that he did ? not ? deserve. 

Chapter Text

Thrawn considers his potential courses of action.

The majority involve abandoning decades of work. All of his efforts, the evil (necessary evil) he turned a blind eye to, the lives that had been lost to his cause, justified by the idea of it being for an overall greater good (albeit one that would primarily and initially benefit the Chiss Ascendancy)… 

And Thrawn isn’t sure if things will work out anymore. Perhaps he should have given up on the Empire when the purrgils took him and Ezra into the unknown regions and the Empire fell. Perhaps they should have stayed with the Ascendancy (Thrawn would have, but Ezra…) 

Ezra wanted to return to his people, of course. He also felt that, with the Empire in pieces, it could be that resource that Thrawn had foreseen it to be when he first infiltrated its ranks all those years ago.

A warrior may retreat. He does not flee. He may lie in ambush. He does not hide. He may experience victory or defeat. He does not cease to serve.

Ezra understands the threat that the Grysks pose, and that it is greater than that of the Empire. However, he will not allow Lesser Space to be used as bait to give the Ascendancy more time to prepare. 

Understandable. 

But Thrawn’s allegiance is to his people, not Ezra’s.

The path to his goals is stained with the blood of innocent lives lost to the Empire that he nurtured.

If he fails, and the Ascendancy falls, all of those people he let die will have died for nothing.

What a waste.

No one is immune from failure. All have tasted the bitterness of defeat and disappointment. A warrior must not dwell on that failure, but must learn from it and continue on.

To continue his mission. To pursue the second option — the one he illustrated to the idealistic Nightswan before his death at the hands of… well, he still thinks it was Pryce (Vanto thought so too, and they are generally not both wrong). 

“There are evil things in this galaxy, Nightswan. Far more evil than the Empire, and far more dangerous to all living beings. We know of some, while of others we have heard only rumours. We needed to know whether the Empire that was rising from the ashes of the Clone War could be an ally against them.” 

“Or whether it should instead be collapsed into an easy prey,” Nightswan said.

Thrawn finds himself gazing once more at the planet’s surface. His plan would be simple: 

Crash the two starships into Dathomir.

It means sacrificing the young Jedi he has grown fond of, and his companions. It means countless deaths, including his own, but it also means that Snoke’s plans to bring the Emperor back will fail. Perhaps the chaos will be enough to tempt the Grysks. 

The entirety of Lesser Space will be sacrificed to the Grysks, but it will give the Ascendancy more time to unite against the threat…

But then, the Ascendancy is in the midst of a political war. The ruling houses have turned on each other, some are already under Grysk influence, and others are too stubborn to put their differences aside and work together. Do they seek power? Influence? 

To Thrawn, it is the epitome of illogical and senseless. 

There are many uncertain variables with the kamikaze option. But he will do whatever he must to protect the Ascendancy. If it is the lesser evil…

There was another time he almost abandoned a Jedi.

“My mission comes first,” Thrawn said. “My people come first.” For a long moment, Padmé gazed into his eyes. He let no emotion show; no regret, no shame, no triumph. Thrawn was just a soldier, obeying his orders, with neither satisfaction or regret. Not unlike a battle droid.

But he hadn’t abandoned Anakin Skywalker. 

“There came a moment when I had completed the task the Chiss Ascendancy had set for me. At that point I was free to abandon him to his own task.” He turned to face Vader. “You have that same freedom of choice. I am asking that you remain at my side.” Vader was unreadable through the mask. The slightest twitch of his hand told Thrawn all that he needed to know.

“Your orders, Admiral?” Faro asks. 

Thrawn turns his glowing red eyes on her. 

—

Ahsoka’s lightsaber won’t be much use against the night sisters, Mayan decides, as Mother Talzin begins another ritual involving the dead Sith. Her master rests against the warm stone of the cavern wall, head slightly leaned over, eyelashes lightly brushing her cheeks, as though she might be asleep. 

Though Mayan knows that she isn’t just asleep. 

She isn’t here. There was a moment when something snapped, and Mother Talzin had set her black and white eyes on Ahsoka with what Mayan could only describe as pure malice. That reaction told Mayan something, because the thing that had snapped was undoubtedly— 

“Hey, hi,” Sabine taps her on the shoulder. “Why has Ezra disappeared?” 

Mayan winces internally. “Um, he wanted to go speak to Thrawn?”

“Yeah!” Sabine taps her shoulder two times. “But I told him it was a bad idea. Did he sneak off?!” 

Mayan purses her lips together and shrugs. Sabine is at least a head taller than her, and very irritated. No, not irritated, she’s scared but the shell of it is annoyance. Her dark eyebrows knit together tightly. 

“I’m going after him,” Sabine says. “Stay with Ahsoka.” 

“Ezra probably doesn’t need your help,” Mayan tries. 

Sabine takes a moment to glare at her before she lifts her helmet over her head. “Yeah, that’s not the point.” Her voice becomes muffled by the modulator. “Look, Jedi aren’t supposed to go running after their friends when they’re in danger, maybe Ahsoka taught you that, but Mandalorians absolutely do. So, I’ll see you later. Don’t get sacrificed.” 

Mayan sighs harshly as Sabine stalks off in the direction of the exit. Great. Now she’s alone in a cave, again! Ahsoka is unconscious, and she’s pretty sure Mother Talzin is secretly working against them. 

The Force is content, though. There’s danger, like a crescendo in the far future, a lightning bolt about to strike, but for now, the energy is steady. And Mayan can anticipate when the time to act will be. Soon.

The sacrifice ritual involves Mother Talzin and the other night sisters absorbing the life force of the Sith into the strange crystal ball that seems to house the majority of Mother Talzin’s spirit. They chant softly, hand in hand, in a circle around the altar. 

Once complete, the body is taken by one of the night sisters and the others leave. Circe stares at Mayan through the candle-lit room, and her feathers prickle. 

“You want to know what the purpose is,” Circe says.

Mayan nods.

“Mother has gained enough dark side energy to rebuild her physical form.” 

Mayan glances down at Ahsoka, breathing steadily beside her. She has no idea where her master is or what danger she may be in.

“Why does she want a body?” Mayan asks. “If the Sith Lord comes back, wouldn’t she be better at hiding as a spirit?” 

“Spirits are vulnerable to attacks by the Force,” Circe tells her. “To ensure the survival of the coven, Mother needs to be at full strength.” 

“Why lock Dathomir to outsiders?”

“To prevent anyone without a connection to the night sisters from leaving or entering. It means those in the starship above cannot interfere, and other threats can be banished.” 

“What would happen to me, Ahsoka and Sabine if Dathomir was locked now?” 

“You would become unconscious. But Mother could portal you out.” 

Could.

“How would the Sith Lord resurrect himself? He doesn’t have the dark side energy that Mother Talzin has been storing up, and his only connection to Dathomir is through a dyad with a spirit who shares a dyad with my master.” 

And Ahsoka just severed her connection own to Dathomir — the string Mother Talzin tied to all of them, meaning she can essentially drag them through a portal whenever she pleases to wherever she pleases.

The connection still exists through Maul, so for now, Ahsoka’s consciousness is still present on the planet. Should Maul cease to exist… Mayan wonders if Ahsoka would be able to wake up again. 

“He will try to make Mother’s power his own. The resurrection would take place here, at the temple’s altar.” Circe gestures to the slab of stone in the centre of the room, surrounded by flickering candles and patterned engravings. 

“The Sith Lord is connected to Dathomir through more than Maul, then.” 

“Yes.” Circe’s voice remains flat, though her dark eyes narrow. “Only Mother knows the true extent of this connection, as they once shared their knowledge of the dark side as equals.” 

Connected to Dathomir through Maul — was able to find Dathomir because Maul’s spirit came to Dathomir with Ahsoka. 

Mother Talzin tried to tie Ahsoka to the planet but just failed and seemed annoyed about it. What does that mean for her plans?

Only Talzin knows the true extent of the connection — that means Palpatine could…

The crystal ball.

Mayan peers through the crack in the cave wall to the second room where the crystal ball is kept on its own separate alter.

She can’t feel anything from it. So, what is Talzin using it for? Is that really where her spirit is tethered to? As far as Mayan has observed, the night sister spirits are tethered to the entirety of Dathomir, which makes sense given the concept of locking the planet to anyone without night sister blood. 

Mother Talzin speaks through the mouth of another night sister when she is not fully in her spirit form, because of their shared blood, she essentially is every night sister. Like ants using a hive-mind. Witch ants.

The crystal ball holds power of some kind. Perhaps it’s the same idea as with the deathsaber; hatred is stored in the weapon, and hatred can corrupt the mind (Mayan definitely knows about this). She shivers. Night sister magic must be hatred but in a more physical form.

Negative emotions such as the anger a person would feel if they were killed. The Sith girl. Saw Gurerra, and presumably others died for the cause as well.

That means the crystal ball and the deathsaber are basically Sith food.

Thankfully, R2 took the deathsaber with him when he went back with Leia, Han and Chewbacca. So they don’t have to worry about it for now.

Mayan strokes her arm feathers. No matter how much she puzzles it over, she can’t figure out what Mother Talzin’s intentions are. Okay, she has some idea — it involves resurrecting herself instead of Palpatine. Then, Palpatine wouldn’t return, and the resurrected Mother Talzin, if she got the key, could lock Dathomir to keep herself and the night sisters safe for eternity. 

But no. Something’s still missing.

—

In the next room, the night sister who hosts Talzin’s spirit unwraps a swathe of cloth to reveal a lock of hair. It’s small, white — hardly more than a dozen hairs. 

Palpatine’s first contingency plan.

“Mother,” the night sister whispers, “will this work?”

“It will, my child.” The voice of Mother Talzin speaks through her mouth, stretching the skin and tugging her jaw. “Since the Jedi broke free we have no choice but to use the lock of hair to regain the connection to the living force. It is our final chance. You must create a powerful barrier around the spell to prevent him from breaking free. The ghost of Darth Sidious will not take kindly to being contained, which is why his power must be absorbed quickly. Then, the tethers of our other guests — they will be absorbed and destroyed as well.”

Finally, the time has come, my child. The night sisters of Dathomir will be unstoppable…”

—

“Ezra, Ezra! Stop!” Sabine yells with broken breaths as she chases the Jedi through the twisted, decaying forest. Mist obscures her vision of the path ahead, and the footsteps she’s been chasing thunder into the distance when she stumbles and almost falls.

“Ezra! It’s too dangerous.” Sabine grabs a tree branch, which turns to rotting powder in her hand. “How are you even going to get to Thrawn?”

A sigh alerts her to Ezra’s presence. The shadow to the left. In the time it takes her to perceive his presence Sabine shoots her fibre-cord whip and a soft thud tells her that Ezra is tangled up in the beskar-strengthened cord. 

“Ouch,” Ezra grumbles. “Sabine, seriously?” 

Sabine finds him in the mist and hauls him up.

“Ow,” Ezra says. Sabine throws him over her shoulder. “Ow! Sabine! This hurts. Why did you tie me up?”

“Because you keep running away!” 

“I don’t want you to come with me. You’ll shoot Thrawn or something.” 

Sabine jostles him unnecessarily and he grunts as her shoulder digs into his stomach. “I wouldn’t if you actually explained what’s going on. Okay, now talk.”

Sabine hangs him from a tree. She crosses her arms and regards him with the cold air of someone who has absolutely had it with his nonsense. 

Ezra stares at her, deadpan. The navy tattoos mar his forehead in a way that makes him look even older than Sabine remembers him, and it hurts, to think of how much he has changed, the time lost between them, and the people lost to them. Kanan.

“Hera’s gonna kill you for getting those tattoos.” 

“They’re magic tattoos,” Ezra says. He swings a little as he tries to get his arm free, but fails. 

“Why did you come to Dathomir, Ezra?”

Ezra doesn’t speak for a moment. His forehead creases and he takes a soft breath. “Look. I wasn’t lost the whole time I was with Thrawn, okay? We got picked up by his people pretty early on. They’re called Chiss and they’re all nothing like Thrawn which is crazy. His people actually got so sick of him being reckless to protect them from these evil guys called the Grysks (because none of them were smart enough to figure out that they were a really dangerous enemy) that they literally banished him, or, pretended to, because they actually gave Thrawn a secret mission to infiltrate the Empire.” 

“Thrawn is a spy?” Sabine exclaims, eyes wide. 

“No,” says Ezra. “He was a spy. Then he decided that the Empire could help the Chiss out so he decided to become a Grand Admiral. He managed to help out his people a few times but Palpatine was getting kinda annoyed because Thrawn’s loyalties were obviously to the Chiss. Anyway, I technically actually saved his life by purrgil-ing him because otherwise Palps would probably have killed him for treason at that point.”

“So, what? You’ve joined these Chiss now?”

“I want to help Thrawn protect his people, but I also have to protect mine.” Ezra’s face becomes serious. “There are these Force-sensitive kids called sky-walkers that can guide Chiss ships through the unknown regions. Turns out they can also navigate the Force. There’s one called Vah’nya who kept her abilities even into adulthood, and together we managed to open up a portal to the world-between-worlds which is how Thrawn and I tried to go to the Lothal Jedi temple. I had a Force vision of Palpatine trying to return so I told Thrawn that if he wanted to finish his mission it had to be now or he’d lose the Empire for good. So, Thrawn returned to be heir to the Empire, and I was going to investigate my vision. In the world-between-worlds, Talzin grabbed me and took me to Dathomir. She said she was going to stop Palpatine from returning by locking Dathomir to outsiders, but she didn’t have the temple key so she sent Circe and me to look for it. I told her how to use the world-between-worlds as a portal and she made me a night brother because it meant she could always find me if I tried to escape.”

“That’s, Gods, that’s stupid,” Sabine rubs her helmet where her forehead is.

“I need her to portal me back from Thrawn’s starship with the key. Then, she can lock Dathomir and send you guys up to Thrawn and he can help you since he doesn’t have to worry about Palpatine getting mad at him anymore! Then, Thrawn can escape back to the Chiss with all the stolen starships and you guys will be safe and away from this place.”

“And you’ll be trapped here.” 

“You guys can figure out how to destroy Palpatine’s Force ghost and then we can unlock the planet! It’ll be fine, I promise,” Ezra tries to assure her. 

Sabine doesn’t buy it. “Talzin has tied you to Dathomir through her weird string magic and because you’re a night brother. She clearly doesn’t want you to escape. Also, she did that weird magic to me, Ahsoka and Mayan, and I don’t trust her. She sacrificed that Sith girl for power and I wouldn’t put it past her to do the same to us. There’s no way she’ll willingly portal us to safety when she could, I don’t know, absorb our life force!”

“But she’ll have enough power to resurrect then…”

Sabine groans. “Ezra! She’s next-door to Sith. Do Sith ever stop trying to gain more power?”

“I don’t know! But if that doesn’t work then I don’t know what to do.” He tears his eyes away from her, half-scowling.

“Let me come with you,” Sabine says. “We need to figure out how exactly Thrawn can help us - if he even can. And we need the key as a bargaining chip against Talzin so she doesn’t decide to sacrifice us all.”

“Okay… that might work.” Ezra purses his lips. “Hey, can you let me down now?”

Sabine releases the fibre-cord whip and Ezra hits the ground with a thud and a groan.

“Okay,” Ezra says amongst tangled loosened cord. “Let me just…” 

He pulls out a long, mosaic-ed lightsaber from his robes. Sabine feels her heart go cold. “What in the name of the Mand’alor is that?”

“Oh, this?” He turns it on, and it pulses dark blue and cold. “Ahsoka gave it to me. She said it’s pretty dangerous but that it would help beat Palpatine somehow.” 

“Looks creepy.” 

“Yeah, well… it’s got a lot of nasty Sith evil all over it. But, emotions are power, and if I treat it as a Force-anomaly…” Ezra raises the blade and cuts diagonally across the air. He closes his eyes, murmurs something, and to Sabine’s bafflement a pale shimmering line appears where Ezra cut the empty space. Then it folds, and peels open. 

“Nice!” Ezra exclaims. 

“What the fuck did you just do?”

“Oh, I opened the world-between-worlds…” He rubs the back of his neck and grins. “Don’t tell Ahsoka, I think she’d be mad ‘cause I used dark energy.”

Sabine is stuck staring at the tear in the universe right in front of her. “But if you use it all, won’t it run out?”

“Yeah, I guess. And the evil will just sorta dissipate so I guess that’s good too? Means it’s less of a blob, like Mayan was talking about.”

“How did you learn all of this?”

“Jedi and Sith aren’t the only Force users, and there are more ways to use the Force than I thought. The sky-walkers helped me realise that, and Mayan too.” Ezra stores the lightsaber away in his dark robes. He smiles at Sabine over his shoulder. “Ready to go?” 

“Uh, sure.” Sabine steps forwards. Ezra grabs her hand and walks into the glowing white tear, taking her with him into the unknown.

Chapter Text

Ezra and Sabine stumble through the space-time tear and into a supply cupboard.

“Ow!” Ezra yells as a broom thwacks off the side of his head. He rubs the bruise, glaring into the darkness. 

“Ha,” says Sabine, picking up his scowl through her visor. 

“Not funny. Where’s the door handle?” Ezra mutters. 

Sabine shoves him aside and presses the side of her helmet against the metal door. The corridor is silent, eerily so, and Sabine’s mouth twitches. “Clear,” she says. 

The door swings open with a soft creak.

They peer into the corridor. Only the emergency lights are on, flashing white on the ceiling in random intervals. 

Ezra gazes up while Sabine surveys the corridor for signs of life. 

“It’s a code,” Ezra says. “Alright, we need to stay out of sight. Like, seriously.” He looks at Sabine to emphasise his point. “Nobody apart from Thrawn can know we’re here.” 

Sabine shrugs. “That was always the plan.”

“Ok, let’s follow this corridor. I actually don’t remember much about the layout of Imperial ships.” 

Sabine cracks her neck. “Thankfully, I do.” She starts down the corridor. “This should take us near the main quarters, hopefully Thrawn will have the sense to bet here if he’s preemptively left you a message.”

“He’s really good at predicting stuff.” 

“No way!” 

The silence settles over them like a dense fog, broken only by the echos of their footsteps. As they approach the officers’ quarters, Sabine belatedly realises that the thud of their own footsteps has been joined by a third pair. 

“Shit,” Sabine hisses. She shoves Ezra into a (really terrible) hiding spot behind a control panel. But it’s too late. 

The officer spotted them.

“I know you’re there,” she says. 

Sabine picks up the click of a safety lock being disengaged from a blaster. She readies her own, meeting Ezra’s wide eyes — his mouth is clamped shut.

“I’m impressed,” comes an entirely new voice. 

Sabine almost sets off her blaster by accident. A sound leaves her throat — half-way between a gasp and a scream. 

“Though, I should have known a Jedi would find a way,” Thrawn continues. 

In that moment, Ezra springs from the wall and his face breaks into a beaming smile. “Thrawn!” he says.

Thrawn stiffens under his uniform as Ezra hops over, and Sabine fears for a moment that something is wrong, but Ezra stops before he reaches him. “Oh, right. No hugs.” And pats him very properly on the shoulder. Thrawn’s eyes follow him. “How ya doin’, Thrawn?”

Thrawn’s red eyes narrow to a thin glimmer as he eyes the young Jedi at his shoulder. “Vanto does not appreciate you mimicking his Wild Space accent.”

“Eli’s not here!” Ezra laughs. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, or are you offended on his behalf? That’s pretty nice of you.”

Thrawn’s eyebrow twitches. 

Sabine all but crumples to the ground in a ball.

“So,” Ezra puts his hands on his hips. “What’s the deal?” 

“We’re kriffed!” the woman pipes up, and Thrawn half-glares at her. “Sorry, sir…”

“Come,” Thrawn says. “We must not linger here. Let’s speak in my office.” 

The woman, who Thrawn introduces as Commodore Faro, opens a holo projection behind Thrawn’s desk and they all sit on rusty imperial chairs to examine the information in an almost cinema-like fashion.

A grotesque image appears. A man, half of his face missing, body emanated, skin wrinkled and pink like an acid wound. 

“Snoke,” Thrawn introduces the man with a gesture towards the creature. “I believe he is a messenger of the late Emperor. Could this be possible? Please answer my questions with either ‘yes’ or ‘no’ until I have finished gathering the information I need.”

Sabine scoffs, but Ezra obliges with a snap. “Yep. I mean, yes.” 

“Are the night sisters of Dathomir attempting to resurrect Palpatine?”

“No…” Ezra frowns. “Well, actually…”

“Yes or no.” 

“Yes,” Sabine says tersely. 

“Thank you,” Thrawn acknowledges. “Will it be possible to prevent this occurrence?” 

This time, Ezra is quick to respond. “Yes,” he says, with certainty.

“Are you aware of some artefact that is currently in my possession that may have something to do with Palpatine or the night sister’s plans?”

“The key to Dathomir? Yes.” 

“Now please explain how this ‘key’ will be used.” 

“It locks the planet to those without night sister blood. Everyone apart from the night sister and me.” 

“I see.” Thrawn clasps his hands on his chin. “And you have been told this by a night sister?” 

“By their leader, who wants to resurrect herself, yeah.” 

“Why has she not done so already?”

“Um…” Ezra looks to Sabine. Sabine sticks her hands out and shakes her head.

“How will she resurrect herself?” 

“Evil magic.” 

“And you are trapped by her?” Thrawn asks. 

“Yes.” 

“And your friends on the surface?” 

“Yes, as far as we know.” 

Thrawn closes his eyes in thought, and Ezra fidgets in the charged silence. 

“Can we do anything? Sabine thinks Talzin wants to sacrifice us all.” 

Thrawn looks at him, red eyes glowing. “Sabine Wren is correct. Talzin will sacrifice you and your friends, then, she will likely seize the starships.”

“Why?” 

“I told you,” Sabine says. “She’s basically a Sith.” 

“Perhaps she wishes to dominate the galaxy,” Thrawn agrees. “I do not believe the artefact in our possession will be much use. It serves as a bomb on my ship, in the sense that, if I interfere with it I am immediately deemed a traitor and will die. Snoke has eyes everywhere.” 

Ezra’s face falls. "But we need the key! It’s the only way to stop Palpatine from getting to Dathomir, and we can trap Talzin!”

“Your friends would be abandoned,” Thrawn states.

“Okay, never mind.” 

“Talzin’s plan likely involved you making your way to my starship, stealing the key, thus sealing my fate, then she would use her magic to bring you back and or trap you on Dathomir. With all the power she needs at her disposal, I cannot imagine a need for her to ‘lock’ the planet to outsiders.” 

“You think it’s a dud?”

“I think it is part of Palpatine’s scheme.” 

“You said Talzin and Palpatine have a history,” Sabine adds. “I bet they made it for a situation just like this.”

“We must investigate,” Thrawn says, and stands. The holo-projection goes dark.

“You said it’s a bomb for you.” 

“I am prepared to die to weaken the Empire.”

Sabine nods in approval, but Ezra jumps to his feet and looks on the verge of seizing Thrawn by the front of his shirt. “No!” he cries. “You’re not dying and you’re not leaving this part of space to be easy pickings for the Grysks. It would be pointless anyway! The New Republic is growing stronger as we speak. How can you be sure the Grysks won’t decide to just go after the Chiss anyway?”

“Either way,” Thrawn says, and Sabine swears the red of his eyes dim. “I have failed my mission. There is nothing more for me. It would be an honourable death.” 

Ezra yells in frustration. “Shut up! Okay, let's go investigate the key or not-key or whatever it is! Can someone make sure no one finds out so Thrawn doesn’t get shot in the back by a stormtrooper?” 

Sabine, somewhat reluctantly, agrees. 

They can’t cause a distraction because the entire ship is on high alert for anything unusual which would signal a plot to interfere with the ‘package’ that presumably contains the key.

Sabine and Faro work on the terminals to determine the most likely location for where the package is stored. The Moffs and Snoke definitely didn’t count on Thrawn having friends or Ezra being able to cut through literal space.

“Fascinating,” says Thrawn as he steps through the tear left by the deathsaber.

When Sabine falls through the gap, arriving in a brightly lit storage container, and peers over Ezra’s shoulder, she finally realises why Palpatine did not want Thrawn interfering with the package at any cost.

It’s art. 

Dathomirian art.  

It isn’t a key like a lock. It’s a key to the mystery. 

“Ohhh,” Ezra is positively gleaming. “They are done. They are so done.”

—

“I see,” Thrawn says, after five minutes of complete silence. “Talzin and Palpatine discovered and shared many secrets of the Force. This artwork commemorates their discoveries and the increase in power the night sisters saw as a result.” He turns to them, red eyes burning. “I believe they created a device which can store and then physicalise spiritual power, allowing one to return from the dead. Palpatine and Talzin fought over the device, and eventually, Talzin convinced Palpatine to let her keep it, promising that he could one day make use of it should the need arise, in exchange for…” 

“For?” Ezra prompts. 

“A soul,” Thrawn says, then turns to the artwork again. “No, a child.” 

“You’re joking. She gave Maul to Palpatine so she could resurrect herself? No wonder Maul had some serious issues.”

 “This Maul… his Force-ghost exists in connection with Ahsoka Tano?” 

“Yep, somehow.” 

“Curious,” Thrawn says. “I believe in order to resurrect a Force-ghost must be tethered to a living vessel. Is there a connection between Maul and Palatine strong enough?”

“Fuck,” Ezra says. “Yeah, definitely. So that’s why Ahsoka had to go fight him in the living force — to stop him swapping places with Maul.” 

“You believe he has failed?” 

“Ahsoka would never lose. If we’re talking soul power, she’s pretty much unbeatable.” 

“I will take your word for it.” Thrawn nods. “Nevertheless, Talzin likely hopes to absorb both Ahsoka Tano’s life force, Maul’s, and Palpatine’s all at once to fuel her resurrection.”

Ezra paces the container. “Mayan’s down there too… What should we do? Can we get there in time to stop Talzin?” 

Thrawn hesitates. 

“Okay, I don’t care, we’re making it,” Ezra says, eyes scanning the Chiss’s impenetrable gaze. “Let’s go down now and fight her!”

“We may be too late,” Thrawn says. “Would you be averse to suicide-bombing the planet with my two starships?”

When Ezra doesn’t respond, mouth hanging open, Thrawn says, “I thought not. Very well. I will remain here and destroy the planet should you fail.”

“Dude!” Ezra says, finally. “What happened to you? What happened to ‘the odds are never zero’ and ‘a warrior never quits’ or whatever?” 

“That is not a Chiss saying,” Thrawn admonishes. 

“We can manage this. We have to try.”

“It is impossible. The lesser evil would be to—”

“Not interested,” Ezra says, and Thrawn scowls. “What the Force am I supposed to tell Ar’alani and Ba’kiff and Eli and Th’alias and Che’ri if you crash your kriffing starship into a planet?”

“You would also be dead, therefore unable to say anything,” Thrawn points out cooly. “I will remain here, and nothing you say will be able to convince me otherwise. It is highly likely that you will fail, therefore, the next best thing is to destroy the planet before Palpatine or Talzin — whoever succeeded in their resurrection game — can escape.”

Ezra clutches the deathsaber tight. “I don’t think so, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

—

“All of the pieces have fallen into place. It is time to remove the Grand Admiral from the game.”

This Snoke is the original; an extension of Palpatine by blood, though too weak to leave the chamber Moff Gideon began growing him in or to survive without the tubes stuck in his chest.

Moff Gideon’s eyes widen a minuscule amount. “Supreme leader, though I obviously agree, I have to ask — how do you know he betrayed our cause?”

“It was obvious from the beginning,” Snoke rasps out a laugh and, oh, his lungs are failing again. Gideon will have to change his tubes. Without Snoke, Palpatine has no way of relaying his orders to the Moffs, which makes him a powerful asset. He makes Gideon untouchable. All Gideon needs is for Palpatie’s plans to fail, Snoke to die, and then the New Order is his. He already has what he needs from the disgusting tumour anyway. “The Chiss was always loyal to his own people. The only need for his presence above Dathomir was to destroy him, along with the night sisters, his meddling Jedi accomplice, and retrieve the Emperor all in one fell swoop.” 

Order the vice-captain to kill Thrawn immediately, before he attempts to thwart my master’s plans. Then launch shuttles to the planet’s surface and kill every witch. My master will be waiting, Moff Gideon.”

“Excellent.” smiles Gideon. “And my clones are coming along well thanks to your very generous donation.”

“Be careful, Moff Gideon. The purpose of those clones is explicitly clear — any deviation from my master’s plan it and will be your execution next. You must acquire a sufficient donor again to continue our efforts in this area.” 

“Understood, Supreme Leader.” 

That alien freak Thrawn never belonged in the Empire anyway. Gideon will order his execution with glee.

Gideon sweeps into the hallway, pulling his comm from his belt. “Vice-Captain,” he says.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Execute Order 166.” 

“U-understood, Sir…”

—

Faro puts the comm to her lips. “I have the engine room secured, Sir. I can disable them at any moment.”

“Very good, Commodore.” 

“Now what, Sir? Are you going with Bridger?”

“I will see this plan through to the end, Commodore Faro.”

—

The vice-captain swallows nervously, eyes scanning the bridge. There is no sign of the Grand Admiral. He clears his throat. “We have new orders from Moff Gideon. Thrawn is a traitor to the Empire and will be executed under order 166. Rally the command to all st—”

“Sir! Incoming!” An officer jumps to his feet, the chair behind him spinning. “We have one, no, two unidentified space crafts that just appeared out of hyperspace!” 

“They’re closing in, Sir. Should we ready the shields?”

“Yes.” Sweat prickles at the back of the Vice-Captain’s neck. Moff Gideon didn’t tell him what to do in this situation. There weren’t meant to be additional ships, the plan is extremely delicate and the slightest interference could cost them everything!

Suddenly the control panel flashes red and the alarm sounds. 

“Shields are down, Sir… I can’t… something must have malfunctioned.” 

Thrawn. The Vice-Captain clenches his jaw. “Get the shields fixed! We don’t have time for this. If Thrawn escapes Gideon will have our heads.”

—

“Are you seeing this, Sir?”

“I… I am, commodore. I did not expect…”

“Your friends to come and rescue you?” Faro grins, kicking the broken shield generator for good measure. “Well, Sir, that’s what friends do.” 

—

“Ezra, what did you do?” Sabine whisper-yells as they jog down the corridor, alarm blaring faintly in the distance.

“I sent a message to Vah’nya through the force,” Ezra explains. “Back when Talzin first brought me here, I had a vision that we’d all die unless Thrawn’s friends came to save him, so I figured I’d tell her to get to Dathomir as fast as she could with whoever was willing to listen.”

“So, what now? We take out the entire crew and rescue Ahsoka and Mayan?”

“Pretty much.” Ezra grins. “With the Chiss here to help, that shouldn’t be too hard.”

Sabine responds grimly, “If we have to fight Palpatine or Talzin, it might be a very different story.”

—

Thrawn’s back is pressed against the wall. He has a blaster in his right hand, and a dozen stormtroopers close in on him from the hanger bay. Thrawn will not be able to stop them from launching their shuttles, unless…

But as he aims for the fuel tanks, a trooper fires a warning shot which just misses his head.

Well, that’s that, Thrawn supposes. 

The familiar zing of a Chiss blaster makes Thrawn think for a moment that he’s dead, but he isn’t, and the Chiss board the starfighter from the hanger bay with the efficiency that Thrawn sorely missed during his time with the Empire, and that he tried his best to engrain into all of his officers. For example…

“G’day, Thrawn.” 

His accent has reverted to its heavy Wild Space form, perhaps from speaking cheunh for so long. Eli Vanto shoots two troopers in the chest while the rest of the Chiss squadron deal with the others.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Vanto,” Thrawn says.

“No problem.” Eli Vanto says, flicking the recharge switch on the blaster. “Now, how’d’ya get backed into a corner like this?”

“Palpatine.”

“Ah.” Vanto makes a face. “How’s that work? He’s dead?”

“Apparently, he may return to life.” 

“Krayt spit,” Eli says, then takes a moment to stare at Thrawn, until his brown eyes widen. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. That, or a witch plans to steal his life force, along with Bridger and his friend’s, and take his place as the sole ruler of Lesser Space.”

Eli’s eyebrow twitches. “You sound like you’re on spice or sumthin.” 

“I promise you that I am not under the influence of any narcotics.” 

“Good,” Eli says, and grabs him by the arm. “Now, Thrawn, d’ya have a plan?”

Chapter Text

“So, we’re leaving the key?” Sabine locks the crate and shoots the control panel for good measure. Sparks fly in her visor.

Ezra swings his lightsaber to block a flurry of blaster fire coming from the stormtroopers in the corridor ahead. “If we lock Dathomir that means everyone is at Mother Talzin’s mercy, and I can’t fight her alone. Thrawn thinks she was trying to trick us so she could steal our life Force to get strong enough to go after Palpatine’s.”

“Probably,” Sabine says. “Ugh, cover me. These guys are not letting up.” 

Ezra sends the blaster bolts back to the troopers which leaves them in momentary disarray while Sabine jetpacks into a flying kick. 

Blue flashes in Sabine’s visor and suddenly two Chiss have joined the fight. Their blasters seem much more apt at penetrating the stormtrooper armour so they make quick, if not somewhat clumsy, work of the remaining enemies. 

“Hi, Thalias!” Ezra yells. “What! Did you bring Thcheri too?”

The youngest woman yells at Ezra in a rhythmic language (that seems better suited to soothing than yelling) while the older woman stares at Ezra blankly, or, emotionally — Chiss are difficult to read.

Thalias, once Thcheri has finished, says in heavily-accented though still distinguishable Basic,  “𝙴𝚣𝚛𝚊’𝚋𝚛𝚒’𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕?”

Ezra scratches the back of his neck with a grin. “I mean, mostly! You guys really saved our skins. Thanks.”

Another Chiss rounds the corner with a growl and says something to the two women, who share a guilty look. The man then turns to Ezra, his red eyes narrowing to smouldering threads. 

“𝚌𝚑'𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚝'𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘 𝚎𝚗'𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚗'𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚒,” he snaps. “𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘.”

Ezra’s face tightens. “I swear I won’t let anything happen to them, or you, or anyone, Samakro. Please don’t make death threats… it’s not very Chiss.” 

Samakro glares and looks ready to launch into another angry rant but Thalias averts that outcome with a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍?” asks Thalias.

“We need to clear and decrypt these ships. Can you do it?”

A slight smile stretches the corner of Thalias’s lilac-tinted mouth. “𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖.”

“𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚗?” Thcheri interjects suddenly. “𝚅𝚊𝚑 𝚎𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚗?”

“With Eli.” Ezra smiles. “Don’t worry, those two are going to figure out our plan to get out of here. Sabine, I need you to disable tracking beacons and anything that could be used to track these ships.”

“And you?” Sabine asks.

Ezra faces her grimly. “I’m going to save Ahsoka and Mayan. I got them into this mess, so I’m going to get them out.” 

—

The disturbance strikes cracks into the white surroundings. Ahsoka opens her eyes. Maul is curled up with the blood from his palms seeping into his dark trousers, eyes fixed on something Ahsoka can’t see.

“He’s coming,” she says.

He turns to her slowly. 

A piece of light breaks off and shatters on the ground. 

Maul flinches. “You can’t keep him out forever,” he says, voice unsteady. “How will this end, Lady Tano?”

Ahsoka’s lips part in a soft sigh. “I think I know of two ways, but you won’t like either of them.”

Maul does not seem surprised by that. He dips his head to hide behind his knees. “I will not be used as a pawn,” he seethes. Looks at her. “Was it he who brought my consciousness back? Was our meeting part of his grand design?”

“Perhaps,” Ahsoka says. Another piece shatters by her feet. “Or perhaps it was the will of the Force.” 

Maul speaks softly, “My sole ally, always.” 

—

The crystal ball goes in the centre of the alter. The edges grind against the stone as the night sister rolls it into place, and then she takes her position at the side of Mother Talzin’s apparition. 

A lock of hair has been entangled in magic, set aside, and Talzin places her translucent hands on two blood-red stones.

“Begin.” Her voice booms. 

Mayan’s feathers go ridged. The thread of magic on her wrist… she has to break it somehow, or her life force will be drawn into the spell as well. She glances at Ahsoka, who lies deathly still beside her. Her thread is already broken. How did she do it?

Mayan tries to pull it with her other hand but her fingers ghost right through. 

It’s like a little beam of light.

Is it spiritual? Ahsoka must have broken it when she was part of the living Force. Mayan has no idea how to touch something like that. 

But a night sister would.

Circe… her eyes are closed, eyeballs rolling as she murmurs the incantation, swaying lightly from side to side. Her hands are occupied with her sisters’. Her bone knife gleams white on her belt.

Mayan reaches out. She bites her lip and concentrates until the chanting voices start to swim, but the little weapon doesn’t even quiver. 

Why is she not able to do this?

She can’t even use the Force. It’s supposed to be strong with her. How? Where is it when she needs it, then?

You exist within all living things. You are the energy that is created by all living things; you move through them, penetrate them; you bind the entire galaxy together.

The Force isn’t an external thing — it’s part of her. Like her wings. Sometimes they might struggle and falter, but they will always catch her and they are, intrinsically, part of her. 

Mayan doesn’t need to look for the Force. 

You are right here. 

Always.

Mayan reaches out again. This time, the bone knife trembles, the sound of blood rushing in her ears, and with a zing it flies into Mayan’s hand. 

She cuts the magic thread and it burns away. 

Her heart races in her chest, but the night sisters keep chanting. They didn’t—

No. They noticed.

The chanting rises like a shudder and Mother Talzin’s eyes fly open. Her mouth keeps moving, but her gaze burns across the alter. 

Another voice speaks. Talzin’s voice, the physical one. “You have done well to decipher my plan… But it is too late. The absence of your life force will make little difference. The one that I desire is his.”

The night sister who hosts Talzin’s spirit moves forward and grasps the crystal ball. 

“My spirit will transfer to the magic within the crystal and manifest a physical body once more.”

Do not interfere, Jedi Padawan. Without this lock of hair tethering Darth Sidious to the crystal he may escape my clutches. You would not want him to resurrect, would you? Let me destroy him once and for all…”

Mayan’s grip tightens on Ahsoka’s lightsaber. “But you’re just as evil,” she says. “Ahsoka says you sold your son to a Sith Lord and then left him for dead until you needed him again.”

Talzin’s laugh echoes off the stone walls. “There is nothing you can do to stop me. It is either my resurrection or Palpatine’s. Which do you prefer?”

“There’s another option,” Mayan says. She’ll probably die enacting it though, and there’s still every risk that Palpatine wins. 

Mayan reaches out her hand. Her goal: The crystal ball.

Its goal: Ahsoka.

Mayan tugs her arm back in a grabbing motion and the ball arcs towards her. She ducks beneath it, green threads trailing, and plunges the knife upwards to break the connection Talzin has established to Palpatine through that gross old piece of hair. 

The crystal ball lands beside Ahsoka, and Mayan’s nerves freeze because for a moment she fears she misjudged and it isn’t going to make it…

The ball rolls, and nudges Ahsoka’s hand.

Seemingly by instinct, Ahsoka’s hand closes around it. Perhaps her master knew this was their only option all along.

Mayan ignites her lightsaber and prepares to die at the hands of the night sisters.

—

Something reaches Ahsoka from a place deep in her mind. It sears, blinding white, through that little pocket of consciousness where she was safe and snug before you ripped the fabric of it out from beneath her and plunged her into the unknown.

Mayan.

Her padawan is fighting for her life right now against a horde of night sisters. Ahsoka has to get back to her.

Around her, the walls of light break down like flecks of paint, larger pieces shattering soundlessly on the ground like glass. It is a rain of white like snow. And in its place, darkness.

He is coming.

“Maul, take my hand.” Ahsoka’s hand is glowing with life, like the life she was given by the daughter. It seems almost fitting that this power is now hosted within her, within their, soul. The power to bring back a life.

“No, no. This is…” he laughs, brokenly. “Anything else. Anything.”

Ahsoka’s fingers curl into a fist. She speaks softly, eyes noting every minuscule twitch of his expression, every blink. “It’s either you, or him.”

“Then neither!” 

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“You,” — he points a trembling finger in her direction — “You want to use me against him. You want to use me like after Mandalore. That went well for you, didn’t it? You want to save my life again? You will regret it!” 

“Very well,” Ahsoka says. “Then, tell me this: Between you and Palpatine — and I’m not saying you deserve this, but—”

Maul's hand grabs hers before she even finishes the sentence.

The last thing she glimpses are his acidic yellow eyes. The colour is almost excruciating, now that she sees it up close; how they string with greed and the pain of a lifetime spent in nothing but anguish and hate — poisoning the galaxy with the same.

Then darkness.

—

“You help people, Snips. You help people, and you do the right thing. As long as you never lose sight of that, you’ll be a great Jedi.

“I’m proud of you.”

—

Ahsoka’s lightsaber is no longer Mayan’s weapon — it is her life. She wonders if this is the intended relationship between Jedi and lightsaber. Then ceases to wonder because, at a pulse of green magic, her back hits the cavern wall with enough force to knock the air out of her lungs. Mayan’s eyes blur, muscles stinging from the impact.

Circe is the first to come for her.

“You! What have you done?” she screams, lightning weapon gleaming her high, white cheekbones like a knife. “How dare you oppose Mother’s plans? Her decades of work to regain the power that was robbed from us?”

Mayan raises Ahsoka’s saber to block her furious blow. There’s nothing she can say to Circe. The night sister is loyal to Mother Talzin and now that Mayan has opposed the witch leader, there is no going back. 

Either Mayan kills Circe, or Circe kills her.

Another swing comes from above, and Mayan ducks by rolling to the side. Circe growls and her next attack is lightning fast, Mayan can only barely block it in time, and her arm buckles under the strain. 

She reaches for the Force to be met with silence. 

Circe wants her dead. Mayan has to fight back, but she isn’t strong enough, she hasn’t been trained long enough in how to fight. 

And after Tatooine, it hasn’t really appealed to her. The image of the dead girl is still scorched into her mind, the sizzling flesh of the midsection of the Pyke she cut in half before it toppled onto the sand, bloodlessly. 

With a lightsaber, Mayan supposes that it’s easy to forget that you’re spilling blood. 

Mayan tightens her grip on the lightsaber, and finds herself saying, “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“You’ve already killed us all.”

That’s not true. Mayan’s feet scuff the dusty ground as she feels her way into the only stance Ahsoka has taught her. You could have left things as they were. You could have lived peacefully, but you followed your mother in her greedy ambitions. She would have destroyed us all for greater power — even her own children.

Circe yells and throws herself at Mayan. 

Mayan reaches out with the Force and you hear her.

“I can’t let you kill me, and I’m not going to kill you. I have to help Ahsoka return the darkness to shadow in the galaxy.”

“We don’t care. We like the dark,” Circe hisses, hand frozen, fingers twitching. Her jaw clenches with the effort to try to free herself from Mayan’s hold. 

Mayan listens to the Force. You and she are one, aligned in your purpose. 

You won’t let her die, because she is the key to everything.

You seek harmony. Balance. 

The darkness has slowly swollen to a size so immense that it cannot hold together any more, and soon, the light will break through, break it apart, and return to its rightful place. 

Killing is wrong. It causes pain and suffering — it is an act of the dark side. 

Mayan vows that she will never kill a person ever again. There must be a better way.

I will show you.

Goosebumps breaks out across Mayan’s skin.

As long as you listen to me, I can hear you, Mayan Akash, child of the universe. 

Mayan closes her eyes. She breathes deeply, the blood rushing through her veins, air flowing into her chest, and reaches out with both hands. 

None of the night sisters reach her. 

On the alter, Mother Talzin’s spirit writhes and screams as her soul is torn apart and made into the threads that will sew together a living body. A body that isn’t hers. One that’s connected to Ahsoka through a thread of night sister magic.

Mother Tazlin, the witch mother who used and cast aside her beloved child for her own gain. See how the tables have turned. 

An ironic story.

“Mayan!” 

Ezra’s presence crowds the cave entrance, Sabine close behind. Mayan lets out an involuntary gasp of relief. 

“Help me hold them off!” she cries. 

Ezra ignites the deathsaber and the tattoos around his eyes pull into a glare. He cuts down the first sister with a howling swipe of the void-like blade, and a spike of fear runs through Mayan. But the darkness doesn’t emerge. Something about the deathsaber…

“It eats death!” she exclaims in realisation. It all makes sense now. How else would the hatred imbue itself so resolutely within the blade?

“What?”

“The deathsaber! It eats death and pain and stores it inside.”

“Is that bad?” Ezra asks as he ducks under a hand, the sister's talons spearing the empty air. 

Mayan considers this. “No… actually, it’s fine. It’s kind of cheating, but it means you can destroy them without any lingering resentment which could offset the balance of the universe.”

“Well that’s pretty cool!” says Ezra, and stabs a night sister in the chest. “Because I am not holding back against them, not after what they just tried to do to all of us.”

“Same here!” Sabine’s voice comes through her helmet. A sister goes for Ezra’s arm, and Sabine’s blaster takes her arm clean off. Green dust hisses from the wound and missing limb. Sabine half-screams. “That’s not normal!"

“They’re weaker,” Ezra says. “Look! Talzin’s spirit is disappearing. Mayan, what’s going on?”

Before Mayan can explain, a spark in the Force explains it for her.

A presence. 

Ezra’s face goes blank with shock. “You’re joking.” 

Mayan grimaces. Nope, not joking. Thankfully, with Maul’s spirit returning, Ahsoka’s follows after. Her master’s presence warms the back of the cave, the life returning to her body.

Mayan is at her side immediately. “Ahsoka?” 

“Hi, Mayan,” Ahsoka opens her blue eyes. Her lips ease into a smile. “You did it.”

Mayan’s chest swells. “It was mostly you,” she says shyly. “And Ezra and Sabine came to rescue us.”

She helps her master up, and Ahsoka smiles at her one last time before her eyes are drawn to the altar top. She sighs. A man with marbled red and black skin, yellow eyes, clothed in black ritual robes, stares at his hand as if it's the first time he’s ever looked at a hand in his life.

Then he turns to Ahsoka. He doesn’t smile. His face remains explicitly blank, though Mayan picks up on the slightest pull of his lips inward. Nervousness.

Sabine is first to break the silence. Surrounded by night sister corpses, she screams, “Oh my fucking Gods are you serious!?”

Mayan stops her bullet with the Force. She almost misses the instant Maul scrambles from the alter and… hides behind Ahsoka?

The bullet whizzes past and chips the cave wall with a bang.

Ezra steps backwards and almost falls over.

“Everyone,” Ahsoka says, putting a hand in front of Maul, who edges slightly further back. “Let’s all just stay calm…”

Chapter Text

“M-Moff Gideon! We failed. Thrawn is still alive and he has help from an unidentified spacecraft.”

The holo-projection flickers for a moment, perhaps from the rage that twists Moff Gideon’s face. The vice-captain bites his knuckles, cowering in the command chair as another crash rattles the ship. The other officers yell and rush around the command room, trying to get a bearings on the situation. 

“Failed? I do not accept failure, vice captain. Resume your efforts to reach the planet’s surface or die trying.” 

“W-we can’t! Our other star cruiser has us in a gravity lock. It’s impossible to move the ship.” 

“What?”  

“Thrawn ordered both ships to lock on each other and now they’re stuck together…” The vice-captain winces. 

“I see,” Moff Gideon begins coldly. “Then resume your efforts to kill Thrawn. He cannot be allowed to take control of the Empire. The position of right-hand to the Emperor belongs to me. What is the situation on the planet’s surface?”

“We don’t have a reading, sir… We did, but…”

“Don’t bother coming back, vice-captain. You’re demoted to the lowest rank: dead.” 

The vice-captain shrieks as an explosion blasts through the door. Metal slams, wrangled open, and smoke fills the control room. The other officers, to the vice-captain’s horror, stop panicking and turn their blasters on him.

“Thank you, Commodore Faro,” says a calm voice, 

“Not a problem, Admiral,” says the woman to the vice-captain’s right. “What should we do with him?”

Before Thrawn has the chance to respond, the vice-captain yells and blasts the top of the control panel off, shattering the holo-projection with a hiss of sparks. 

He’s dead before it starts smoking. 

“Aw fucking hell,” says Eli, blaster still pointed at the slumped body. “Now he’s gone and done it…”

“Eli Vanto?” Faro exclaims, mouth agape. 

Eli steps out of the smoke, a grin on his tanned face. “Long time no see.” 

“You’re still with the chiss?”

Eli hums amusedly. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Thrawn joins them on the brig after a quick word with the other officers. “I have explained to them how to free the ships. Vanto, I had some data I wanted you to look at, though it looks as though that may be a challenge now.” Thrawn glances at the smouldering computer panel. 

Eli rolls his shoulders. “I’ve worked with worse.” 

“Do you believe it is salvageable?”

Eli takes a seat in the command chair. “What am I lookin’ for, sir?”

“Data linking Moff Gideon’s plans with Dathomir to his base on Mandalore. I believe he may be hiding an individual with some kind of Force connection to the late Emperor Palpatine on the planet, and I would like to understand precisely what his intentions are, and what we will soon be up against.” 

“I’ll need the kid for the Jedi whack.” 

“Ezra is still on the surface.”

“Comms?”

“Negative. Though I believe he can now create portals through space.” 

“I’m not even gonna ask. Alright, so Ezra-kid will be here soon, in the meantime I’ll see if anythin’ here is useful.”

“Thank you, Vanto.”

“I’m a Commander now.”

“And I am no longer your superior officer.” 

Eli’s face twists at that, and a strange feeling prickles in his chest. He turns away from Thrawn and gets to work on the control panel, examining bunches of colourful wires. “It’s still intact on the inside,” he says. “I gotta move the data to another computer.” 

So, Thrawn wants to be friends now, huh? Eli thought Thrawn may have considered him a friend when he left him with his diary and sent him off to live with his people. Then “Good-day Lieutenant Vanto” happened. 

“Where to next?” Eli asks as he gently prises the data stick from the central board. “Mandalore?”

Thrawn is silent for a moment. “Where do you plan to go?”

Eli scowls. Stop ignoring my question, dammit. “Wherever you need me, obviously.”

Faro clears her throat. She points to the control pit. “I’m just, gonna help them with the gravity generators.” 

Thrawn seems puzzled by the nuances in her tone, and the slightest frown tightens the ridges in his forehead. Eli has to choke back the laughter that bubbles in his chest resulting from the awkwardness between them that Thrawn is of course oblivious to.

Eli doesn’t think he’s going to survive this. 

“Are you alright?” Thrawn’s expression shifts to one of concern. It’s so subtle that Eli’s probably the only human who would pick up on it, except possibly Ezra, and maybe Faro on a good day.

“I’m doin’ fine. How ‘bout you?”

“Also… fine.” 

Oh Gods now Eli just feels terrible. He sighs raggedly, under the pretence of it being over his computer struggles, but it’s actually over Thrawn’s emotional ones. He’s pretty sure Thrawn isn’t as cued in to social situations as humans or chiss tend to be. When Thrawn first sent him to the Ascendancy, Eli expected everyone would be just like Thrawn. He couldn’t have been more wrong. They are nothing like Thrawn. Thrawn is one in a million.

“Thrawn,” Eli starts, looking into his red eyes, “y’know I—”

The security feed beeps. Eli’s eyes widen when he sees Ezra waving up at the camera from the supply room.

Eli clicks the comms. “Um, Ezra, wha’d’ya think you’re doing there? Actually, how’d you even get on board?”

“Space portals!”

“Right. I see.” Eli rubs his forehead. This is going to be a long day. “You need anythin’?”

“You won’t believe what happened down there,” Ezra practically yells. “Anyway, I need the key now because we’re locking Dathomir so this doesn’t ever happen again, then we’re all jumping through a space portal to you guys. Is that alright?” 

“Sure. See ya in a bit.” 

“Excellent,” says Thrawn. He turns to Eli. “What were you going to say?”

Eli sighs. “Moment’s gone. Alright, let’s get this data ready for Ezra-kid to look at.”

—

“So, here’s the deal,” Eli says after everyone has tumbled through Ezra’s space-tear and into the command room. There’s a strange looking guy with horns that Eli hasn’t seen before, a Mandalorian woman, a togruta, and another confused looking child. Great. “Our man Gideon follows the orders of a guy callin’ himself Snoke, who’s somehow connected through some whacky Force magic to Palpatine, or whatever bits of ‘im are floatin’ ‘round in the galaxy, because as we all know: he exploded. Thrawn, you’ll have to explain your plan now.” 

Thrawn regards his audience with a cold stare. Except it's not cold it's a bemused expression with a slight hint of humour beneath layers of determination and seriousness. “Thank you, Vanto. I believe if we can defeat Moff Gideon and the remaining Imperial forces loyal to him and Snoke, the Moffs are likely to instate me as their leader and abandon their hopes of resurrecting the former Emperor Palpatine. I had hoped a time would come where the Empire could be free of his dark presence, and though I don’t want say for certain that this is it, I do believe this is the opportune moment to strike.” 

“Preemptively?” Admiral Ar’alani glares from her holo-projection. 

“Perhaps,” says Thrawn. 

Ar’alani looks like she very much has something to say about that, but Eli beats her to it.

“Admiral, Thrawn isn’t the Ascendancy’s political pain in the ass anymore. He’s been exiled officially for what… thirty years?”

“Thrawn ordering pre-emptive strikes against alien leaders in alien territory with his goal being to instate himself as their leader is it very much a problem for the Chiss Ascendancy.”

“On the contrary, Admiral,” Thrawn says smoothly. “It would be an optimal outcome if the Ascendancy were to have influence in such a significant part of lesser space. However, I believe we may face difficulties attempting to bring back the Empire now.”

“Uh, you bet you will!” Sabine says. “The New Republic is in control now. We are not letting you start another war.”

“Starting a war would also be beneficial for the Ascendancy,” Thrawn says simply. “It would draw the Grysks to an easier prey, and that would give my people valuable time to prepare.” 

“Maybe get your exile revoked,” Eli says, “so we don’t have to hide you in the outer territories again.” 

“That would also be helpful.” 

Ezra, finally, interjects. “Stop! Just stop,” he yells. He groans into his hands. “Look, I get what you guys are saying, but there must be a way we can all survive working together instead of just backstabbing each other.”

Thrawn is silent for a moment, his red eyes examining each of them in turn. He pauses on Ahsoka, who stares back reprovingly from the middle of the group. “There is another option. However, I fear that even if you agree it may not be feasible.” 

Eli leans back in the command chair, noting how Ahsoka’s eyes narrow as what Thrawn is suggesting sinks in. 

“That’s fine with me,” Eli says.

Thrawn looks at him. “I had not asked anything of you yet.” 

“Well, who else were you gonna ask? Faro? She doesn’t know a thing about the Ascendancy.” 

“That might work,” Ahsoka says. “But this will be a diplomatic nightmare and I think there’s only one person who can help us.”

“Yeah, Thrawn tends to be a bit of a diplomatic nightmare,” Eli comments. “But I should manage. Who’s this person? A senator?” 

“My niece, Leia Organa.” 

“Organa? Okay… aren’t they super anti-Empire? Like, hello, Alderaan?”

“She’s the only one we could trust with something like this. The only one I will trust.” 

“I think it’ll work!” Ezra says. “Thrawn was anti-Death Star. He wouldn’t have wanted Alderaan to happen so Leia might actually agree.” 

Sabine jabs him with her finger. “Being anti-something and actually doing something to oppose it are two different things!” She glares at Thrawn. “Thrawn would have sat back and let Alderaan happen if he’d been there.”

“That is true,” Thrawn says mildly.

Eli sighs. Thrawn would have been complicit in the destruction of Alderaan. “That damn Pryce messed up everything. If she hadn’t blown up your factory we would’a had tie defenders instead of a Death Star.”

“And the Empire would have won,” Sabine says coldly. “And Palpatine would still be alive—”

“Yeah, and Thrawn, you would be dead. Palps was gonna kill you after Lothal anyway,” adds Ezra.

“Let’s not fixate on the past right now,” says Ahsoka. “We need to decide what we’re doing in the here and now. Is the threat of Palpatine’s return over?”

“The current enemy is Moff Gideon, on Mandalore. I believe he wishes to restore the Empire with himself as leader.” 

“Then he’s just another you,” Sabine snaps. 

“If my people are to survive the Grysks our galaxies require a strong, organised power. That is, and will always be, my goal. Gideon’s motivations are unclear to me.”

Eli sighs. “He’s a power-hungry bastard.” 

“I see.” 

Silence falls over the command room. The computer spits smoke like an angry Lystra worm and Eli presses his fingers into the space between his eyebrows. “This isn’t going to work,” he says. “We’re going to have to investigate what Gideon is up to the hard way.” He looks to Thrawn.

Thrawn dips his head in understanding. “Then we shall go to Mandalore ourselves.”

Ahsoka huffs. “That means someone has to go to Coruscant. Or are you just going to show up in the Chimera over Mandalore and expect the New Republic not to take notice?”

“Are you volunteering, Ahsoka Tano?” asks Thrawn.

“I’ll go,” Mayan says. “With Ahsoka and Ezra. We have to get Luke. I need to speak to him.”

“The sky-walker thing, right…” Ezra glances at Thrawn. “Yeah,” he says to the chiss, “so, turns out there might be meaning to the name Skywalker after all.”

“Fascinating. Please tell me what you discover. It may be useful to the Ascendancy.”

“Sure.” Sabine rolls her eyes. “Make sure you don’t take over the galaxy in the meantime and then maybe we’ll tell you about it.” 

“Thrawn appreciates it,” Eli drawls.

“Excuse me,” says a voice from the back. “But I would like to leave this spaceship.”

“No,” choruses several voices.

“Who is this man?” asks Thrawn.

“This is Maul,” Ahsoka begins. “He took Palpatine’s place in being resurrected.”

“Fascinating.” 

“That’s one way of putting it,” says Sabine. “What are we going to do with the guy?”

“I would like to leave.”

“He could go with you guys in the Chimera?” asks Ezra.

“Heck no.” 

“He can’t go to Coruscant. He’d cause an intergalactic incident.” 

“Perhaps we can leave him on Dathomir? Is it not his native home?”

“You can’t just ditch a guy ‘cause you’re flyin’ past his house. Maybe he doesn’t live there anymore. Maybe he got exiled.”

Thrawn’s eyebrows crease slightly.

“That was a joke… sorry.”

“Okay, does anyone have an actually good idea for what to do with Maul?”

Ahsoka chips in. “I say we let him do what he wishes.” 

“Em, what, go on a murder rampage?” says Sabine.

“I have no desire to murder any of you.”

Ezra crosses his arms. “Yet.”

“If you continue to speak for me I could change my mind.”

“You don’t get to choose what happens to you,” says Sabine. “You’re not even meant to be alive!” 

“Are you going to try to kill me, Mandalorian? Your people tried before. Perhaps you will have better luck.”

“Maybe I will! In the name of my planet you destroyed and my people you murdered!”

“Wait, Sabine, he doesn’t have a weapon.” Ezra holds her back by the elbow. 

“Yes, I would like to retrieve it,” Maul says. “I believe it was left on Tatooine when I died, perhaps buried with my remains.”

“Do we have a spare shuttle?” Ahsoka asks. 

Eli pokes a fried button. “Yeah… a couple. Take your pick.” 

“Let’s go,” Ahsoka says to Maul. “Come up with a plan in the meantime. I’ll see Maul off.” 

“Probably for the best,” says Thrawn.

Chapter Text

Admiral Goal Ackbar, head of the New Republic Defence Fleet, is off-world, and therefore can’t speak face-to-face to Leia when she requests an urgent meeting.

Luke resists the way his eyes are drawn to the back of the room and tries to match the way Leia clasps her hands in front of her and the steady confidence in her expression while they wait. 

A call comes in. It’s not Admiral Ackbar, it’s Hera Syndulla - the twi’lek general and rebel hero. Omitting reflexes, she’s a better pilot than Luke. “If this is about Luke, it’s not going to go down well with Admiral Ackbar,” she says.

“As it is a defence concern I must speak with our Defence Leader,” says Leia. Not commenting on Hera’s sudden interference in her meeting. 

“But it’s a Jedi one too?” Hera’s voice changes as if she’s speaking directly to Leia and only Leia, but her tone suggests she’s said all of this before. “You’re better off leaving him out of it. You won’t get anywhere trying to reason with leadership, especially not Admiral Ackbar. I wish the New Republic were more efficient but the more people involved the more of a mess everything becomes, especially when it’s Jedi-related.”

“Not long ago you used to be one of the ones with the most faith in us,” Leia replies, suddenly cold. Luke would shudder to be on the receiving end but Hera is either used to it or has too thick a skin to care because she takes it like a droid.

“The rebellion was different,” the General says, narrowing her eyes. 

“The rebellion had a singular goal. Democracy is made up of a multitude of different voices.” 

In other words, you can’t just do what you want anymore.

Hera has the gall to roll her eyes.

Luke is fortunate he has the Jedi training to bury his horror or he’s pretty sure his face would betray him and that would make the meeting very awkward. Actually, it’s already very awkward. Nobody says anything more until Admiral Ackbar decides to show up.

To some level, Luke can sympathise with Hera. The first thing he wanted to do when he realised what was probably happening on Mandalore was to rush there and start Jedi-ing. Leia said that was a bad idea. The remnants of the Empire need to be handled by the New Republic and formally dealt with so that an accurate picture of the threat can be assessed. If Luke goes and deals with it then it’s just his word that anything actually happened and with so many of the New Republic Leaders looking out for their own interests (and therefore not interested in what Luke has to say) it would leave them blind to any threat. 

Leia says that there was a time when General Syndulla respected and upheld the leadership of the New Republic. Their response in the aftermath of Lothal changed that. 

“Senator Organa, apologies for keeping you waiting. How can I be of assistance?”

—

Pershing is a man of habit. Wake up (cold), get dressed (in the same clothes he always wears) and eat breakfast. While he chews on a breakfast biscuit and sips his lukewarm caff in his standard New Republic issued accommodation with its whirring air conditioning and grey steel walls, he ponders what he might do today. 

Of course, each day he ends up doing the exact same thing. He goes to his allocated workplace, analyses the (very basic) medical research they’re doing on the effect of eating crops that have been bombarded by the Empire on the health of an individual (hypothesis: the health effects are bad), and then goes home again. Sometimes he almost musters up the courage to ask about pursuing some research of his own, but every time their supervisor strolls past with his signature passing nod Pershing finds all of his courage and enthusiasm fizzling out like a burst oxygen pipe and the words just die on in his throat. 

It is better than working for Moff Gideon. And Pershing is used to living in a cage, so it’s not so bad really. 

It’s un-stressful. At least, until she appears. 

“You’re Doctor Pershing, aren’t you?” She blocks his path from the research lab to his computer. Pershing almost drops the data sticks in his hands as his eyes fly up to meet hers, and oh no she looks very angry with him, but why? He didn’t do anything - he’s never even met this woman before. 

The security droid with the wonky wheels squeaks past.

“I know who you are. You worked with Moff Gideon.” 

At that, Pershing gains a smidge of his courage back. “No, I worked for Moff Gideon,” he says. “Excuse me.” He tries to brush past, but she blocks him again with a hand on the workbench. 

“If you don’t tell them what you did I will.” The woman leans closer until Pershing can no longer hide from her penetrative glower. Her eyes are dark blue and her face is twisted into unmistakable fury.

“W-what did I…” He readjusts his glasses. “What did I do? I don’t understand.”

“Don’t play dumb,” she says like an order to fire when ready. “The clones.”

“How do you know about that?” Pershing rushes out. He regains his composure enough to continue. “I-I told them about it anyway. They weren’t interested.”

She scoffs. “A likely story. Did you tell them how many people they slaughtered when Gideon was testing them? How many of our comrades died?”

“Our…?” Pershing backs away. Is this woman familiar? On second thought… maybe he has seen her before. “You were… one of the commanders.”

“I was.” She straightens and suddenly Pershing has room to breathe. “And you were the scaredy-doctor he got to do his freaky experiments. And now you’re a traitor to the New Republic because I bet you haven’t breathed a word to them of the danger you helped create because all you care about is being allowed to do your stupid research.” 

“I did tell them!” Pershing says with enough force that the voices around them drop to a whisper. He gulps and looks around. 

“Shut up,” she seethes. “What do you mean you told them?”

“Will you please leave me alone?”

“Just…” The woman sighs sharply. “Tell me what you told them, okay?”

“Why should I?” 

“Because those monsters killed people I worked with!”

“Okay, okay…” Pershing holds his hands to calm her. “Stop shouting, we’ll attract security.” 

“Yes, I bet you’d hate that.”

“I told them about the clones and all about the research I was doing in the very first interview they gave me. They sent me to speak to a senator. I told him that I made the cloning technology and that all Gideon needed was a suitable donor for the experiment to succeed. He made me swear on my New Republic citizenship not to mention it to anybody, and that they would deal with it…”

“And you just left it at that?” 

“I wanted to wash my hands of it! I wish I’d never started that project. It’s horrible, inhumane… Gideon is trying to do something truly evil but the best thing I can do now is let the New Republic take action against him.”



“You think they’re actually going to?”

“What else would they do? They have to take it seriously. If Gideon succeeds… I mean, it could be bad. Clones are strange and dangerous beings.”

“You know what you have to do.”

“N-no. What?”

“Speak to someone higher up. Whoever you spoke to clearly didn’t give a crap,” she snaps. “Probably didn’t want to deal with the paperwork. It’s your responsibility. You gave Gideon the means to do this. All the people who die, that’s your fault, that’s on your conscience, Pershing.”

“W-who should I speak to?”

“The Head of the Defence Fleet. Admiral Ackbar. I work for him through the amnesty programme.” The woman folds her arms. “Come will me after work. I’ll make sure you speak to him. He can mobilise the New Republic Star Destroyers against Moff Gideon.”

—

“We have reason to believe that Mandalore is serving as a base for Moff Gideon to continue his exploits in service to the Empire.” Leia gets to the point immediately. “My brother and I have been investigating the cloning experiments he had Pershing undertake, and I’m afraid what we discovered is quite worrying, Admiral. Luke has been to Mandalore and can confirm that the atmosphere is completely fine. He also tells me that Gideon attempted to capture a Force-sensitive child not long ago, and we found evidence in the Jedi temple archives that attempts to create Force-sensitive clones were made by the late Emperor Palpatine.”

Admiral Ackbar is quiet, afterwards. His ichthyic eyes seem to stare into the distance. Luke wonders if the holo-projection has glitched out, but eventually he seems to find the words to speak. “I see… You believe… he’s trying to clone Jedi?”

“Not Jedi, just Force-sensitives. Beings that can wield the Force,” says Leia. 

“On Mandalore? Mandalore hasn’t been able to sustain life since they were bombarded into obsoletion by the Empire. I would be interested to hear what Skywalker has to say about his visit.” 

“It’s as Senator Organa said,” Luke responds. “The atmosphere is breathable. The New Republic’s data is false.” 

“That is a serious accusation.”

“It’s more of an observation…”

The flappy skin under Admiral Ackbar’s chin tightens in a quiver of blue light. “I see. Here’s what I’ll do - I will add your observation right to the top of our issues-to-be-resolved list. I agree it is concerning.” He waits, presumably for Luke and Leia to gushingly thank him. 

“I believe it’s more urgent than that,” Leia says. “We would like to investigate Mandalore now.”

“As I said. I’ll make it a top priority,” the Admiral nods politely and glances away momentarily. “I must get going, that issues-to-be-resolved list won’t decrease by itself! I’ll get back to you, Senator Organa,” - he nods to each of them - “and our Jedi Hero.” 

Leia fixes her gaze on Luke, who is busy cringing at the name the senator just gave him. “Thank you… Admiral,” Leia grits out.

The holo-projection flickers out and Luke breathes out a deep sigh. “Leia, this is useless. He’s not going to help us in time!” 

Leia places a pale hand on the back of her chair. “I know,” she says, expression plain, and sits. “But Luke, if you go off on your own the New Republic won’t know what’s going on. You’ll be on your own.” Her eyes hold desperation. “We wanted to build a working relationship between the New Republic and the Jedi.”

“Aw, what Jedi?”

“You, Luke! You and Ahsoka and whoever Ezra is if they can find him.” 

Luke shakes his head, numbing the thoughts that race through him. “Where’s 3PO? I’m gonna get Pershing and bring this to Mon Mothma. Can’t she do something?”

“Maybe…” Leia’s brown eyes are stern. “But it’s not going to look good if you go behind Admiral Ackbar’s back.”

“I should just go to Mandalore.”