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Bo-Katan scanned the rubble of worn battleground through her visor, looking for anything they may have missed on this platform. It was all the same, broken concrete and twisted metal scarred with fire. Everything even remotely useful had already been scavenged and brought back to the encampment under Sundari for repair.
It was several weeks past the event itself, by now. They had looked for survivors immediately and then, when few were found, for the dead - Mandalorian and Imperial alike, to give a proper burial.
Now they were slowly clearing what they could, bringing back computer cores, metal scrap for building, comm systems to rewire, weapons. Anything at all for the rebirth of their planet-side civilization. It was almost like a cavern full of treasure rather than the place that had nearly been their end.
“There’s so much destruction,” Ahsoka murmured a few steps behind her.
Bo-Katan glanced over her shoulder to see Ahsoka looking around, her expression rather blank as she took it all in. “Axe crashed a Destroyer-sized starship into the cavern,” Bo-Katan said with a little huff. “Of course there’s destruction.”
“You’ve told me,” Ahsoka replied. Her voice was still soft, her eyes downcast to the cinder-crusted grating below. “This is just a lot more than I was expecting. Stars above,” she grumbled, mostly to herself.
Bo-Katan knew from experience that her softness, her distance, was indicative of shock, emotions she wasn’t sure how to parse yet. She left her alone with those thoughts, crunching over more burnt debris toward a staircase leading further into the silent war zone. Gideon’s fortress had been carved into the very walls of the planet, like a burrowing wasp taking violent control of a hive not its own. The memories made Bo-Katan sick with anger.
“He certainly got his filthy claws in deep, didn’t he,” she said aloud.
“Yes,” Ahsoka agreed distractedly.
Bo-Katan paused at the top of the stairs, looking behind her again. Ahsoka was wandering a few steps behind, as she had been, but her thoughts were very, very far away in a Jetti -sort of way. “Are you all right?” she asked, only mildly concerned.
“What?” Ahsoka said, bringing her gaze around to see Bo-Katan watching her. She paused, blinking. “Oh, yes. Yes, I’m fine. I just - well, it’s not important right now.”
“If you say so,” Bo-Katan said, unconvinced, but she turned to make her way down the uneven stairs to the lower levels where most other Mandalorians were working now extracting computer panels and power cores.
Several people looked up from their work when Bo-Katan came into the chamber below. Smiles greeted her from those without helmets, while others from The Watch nodded and stood to give their respect for her presence. Bo-Katan raised a hand, dismissing them back to their work.
She approached a man from her original crew and touched his shoulder as he kneeled to peer under an undamaged computer facing. Edrem, she remembered clearly; the aging mechanic turned engineer, whom she had placed in charge of this project after he had done such a good job with her fleet. He startled a bit at her touch, then smiled up at her.
“How is it today?” she asked him.
“So far, so good, Lady Bo-Katan,” Edrem said earnestly. “We’ve already sent a crew back with some fully intact panels we can retrofit to match our old workings in Sundari. We should be able to bring full power back to most of the levels by tomorrow. No more relying on individual power cells, finally.”
Bo-Katan nodded, knowing he couldn’t see the relief on her face behind her helmet. “Wonderful work. Thank you, Edrem.” Ahsoka was still close behind her and she gestured toward a corridor across the chamber. “What I wanted to show you is down there.”
Ahsoka followed as Bo-Katan led the way. She noticed Ahsoka’s attention straying more and more, her eyes darting and her face becoming a mask, easily hiding whatever was bothering her. Probably, Bo-Katan thought, everything about this wretched place.
They walked in silence, Bo-Katan’s booted footsteps loud to the absolute lack of sound from Ahsoka. The corridor ended, the walls opening into another room.
The room full of clones.
The bodies were practically mummified with dehydration outside of the nourishing bacta tanks. All were dead, not a trace of life left in a single one. Some of the upright tanks were cracked open, the shriveled bodies slumped forward through the glass. Other tanks were on their sides, rolled off platforms and completely broken to pieces.
None of the Mandalorians wanted to enter this space, not even for the precious technology they needed to bring their city back to life.
Bo-Katan could not blame them at all.
“Din brought me here after the fires burned out,” she said, voice echoing around them. She removed her helmet. “We wanted to make sure every single clone was dead.”
“This is creepy,” Ahsoka murmured, coming inside and placing a hand on Bo-Katan’s shoulder. It was as much for her comfort as for Ahsoka’s own, Bo-Katan knew. She didn’t mind in the least and the touch was appreciated.
“Do you think there are more?” Bo-Katan asked. The question had haunted her since she first saw this place, and she frowned. “Is some clone of Gideon running around somewhere, still alive?”
Ahsoka was quiet for a moment before she replied. “No, I don’t believe so. He was such a narcissist; he’d have kept such precious things as his own clones close to him. This is - this is awful.”
“Isn’t it? Makes my skin crawl.”
“I can feel his energy all over this place, Bo. His anger and his fear, all his distrust, it’s permeated everything.” She paced to the nearest wall carved into the planet’s stone and pressed her palm flat to the surface, reading things Bo-Katan couldn’t fathom herself.
The thought of it all made Bo-Katan immensely uncomfortable. “He’s not still alive, is he? You’re not feeling his living energy?”
Ahsoka shook her head slowly. “No,” she said. “He is quite dead.”
“Is it dangerous for my people to be here?” Bo-Katan asked, going from uncomfortable to somewhat nervous. “Maybe we should leave this place alone.”
Again, Ahsoka shook her head, the movement just as slow and thoughtful. “No, it’s good you and your Mandalorians are here now. The longer you are, the more his energy will vanish and this whole space can heal. This leftover energy, it won’t hurt you.”
“Okay,” Bo-Katan agreed hesitantly. But she trusted Ahsoka, and she knew what she said was the truth. It still made her skin feel covered in oil, though, and she shuddered.
Bo-Katan watched silently as Ahsoka paced the length of the room, her fingers gliding over the stone wall beside her. She halted abruptly, turning to look at Bo-Katan with an expression of unexpected anxiety. Bo-Katan took a step toward her, reaching out a hand just in case. Just in case of what, though, she wasn’t sure yet. Maybe to catch Ahsoka as she stumbled, because she suddenly seemed very unsteady on her feet.
“Bo,” she whispered, her eyes glazed as she stared into the middle distance between them. “I can feel kyber. A crystal. Not - not the one you’re wearing, but another one.”
“What?” Bo-Katan snapped, narrowing her eyes harshly. “That’s impossible.”
Ahsoka blinked, coming back to herself all at once. “It’s the crystal from the darksaber. It’s still intact, somewhere down in the rubble below us.”
This time Bo-Katan shook her head once, fiercely. “No. You must be mistaken, Ahsoka.”
There was a pleading edge to her voice and Bo-Katan almost tried to speak again, but Ahsoka was staring at her with abject understanding, the anxiety gone. She lowered her face, eyes darting over the dirty flooring. “Kyber is not indestructible, not like beskar, but…it takes more than fire to destroy a crystal. Especially one that old.” She glanced back up to Bo-Katan. “I can find it for you. It would be too easy.”
“I don’t want the darksaber back,” Bo-Katan said, sounding desperate even to her own ears. She took several more steps toward Ahsoka, reaching out to grab her hand. She clutched it tightly - too tightly - in hers. “I never want that blade resurrected. Not ever. It would ruin what has only just been reborn.”
They stared at each other for a long, stretching moment. Ahsoka tugged her hand out of the vice Bo-Katan’s grip had turned into, but she wrapped her hand around Bo-Katan’s clenched fist the moment her fingers were freed. “Another will find it,” she said quietly. “The next Force-sensitive child to inhabit this planet will find it without even having to try. The crystal will call to them the moment they waken to it.”
Bile lined the back of Bo-Katan’s throat and she swallowed harshly around it, trying to chase the feeling back down to her stomach. It just sat there like lead instead.
“You said kyber is not indestructible,” Bo-Katan repeated, thinking quickly. “Can you find the crystal and destroy it yourself?”
Ahsoka was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “I can, yes.” A flicker of distress flashed into her eyes, and the sick feeling in Bo-Katan’s stomach intensified. But then Ahsoka added, “The fires of your beskar forge would destroy it, too.”
“Ahsoka - ”
But Bo-Katan was interrupted before she could even think of what to say.
“I hate the idea of destroying a crystal like that, Bo,” Ahsoka whispered honestly. “There are so few left, now that the caves are gone, and a crystal as ancient as that one would be immensely precious to those of my order still left.”
Ahsoka looked away and the bile rose again in Bo-Katan’s throat. The weight of what she was asking hit her hard in that moment, but she couldn’t - no. Having that crystal back, even without the blade intact, would be like stirring up a nest of angry beasts. It would bring darkness back to her people, back to her. That crystal was the heart of the weapon that nearly destroyed her, that did destroy her sister and started this entire -
A soft touch to her cheek startled her out of her spiraling thoughts. Ahsoka’s hand drifted down to land on her shoulder, a supportive weight. “I will do that for you,” she said, no trace of hesitation in the offer. “I will do anything for you.”
Bo-Katan blinked furiously, her eyes stinging. But she steeled herself enough to ask, “So, Master Jedi, where is your magic rock?”
Ahsoka chuckled quietly, a little rumble in her chest that Bo-Katan could only just hear. She gestured vaguely. “Down…somewhere. Beneath where we are now.”
“That’s helpful,” Bo-Katan grumbled. “Maybe among the rubble of the Destroyer? It fell pretty far into the chasm.”
“Good place to start,” Ahsoka agreed.
“Well,” Bo-Katan said, tilting her head toward a corridor at the other end of the room. “Let’s go down, then.”
She slid her helmet back on and walked that way, Ahsoka on her heels. She was more present, this time, which was more of a relief than Bo-Katan thought it would be. Perhaps all of the energy Ahsoka felt was a bit more overwhelming than she’d given it credit for. Bo-Katan didn’t have it in herself just then to ask, and so she saved the question for later. Perhaps once they’d retired for the evening.
They came upon a staircase, going to the lower levels of what remained of the facility, and Bo-Katan led them down and then back in the direction of the most damage. Where the crater of the explosion sat gaping like an open wound.
Ahsoka didn’t speak. Bo-Katan’s footsteps were loud, almost jarring in such an empty space.
But then a wall fell away into scarred and burned remains, gusts of wind coming inside with the bitter scent of spent exhaust, ozone, and fires long since burned out. The dip of the crater’s edge was before them, the sleek walls of ship sticking up in jagged edges all throughout. The main shape of the destroyer, though, was difficult to discern. The entire thing was destroyed.
Bo-Katan glanced at Ahsoka, finding her staring down into the crater before them. She nodded. “This is it,” she murmured, already stepping forward to find her way down.
Bo-Katan followed her this time, both carefully finding their way through sharp debris. The Mandalorians had been down here already, almost the moment the fires were extinguished. There was very little left in the center, and they gave up quickly; nothing here was salvageable. But now, Ahsoka looked with her second sense, her hands outstretched as she found a line Bo-Katan hadn’t even known was there.
It only took several minutes, once they reached the center of the most debris. The pieces of starship here were small, scattered bits of bulwark that had broken off during the descent and landed after the crash itself.
Ahsoka sank to her knees, holding a palm out over the ashy ground. “It’s here,” she murmured, and Bo-Katan’s heart caught on something sharp in her chest.
All she could do was watch as Ahsoka dipped her fingers into the ash. The crushed hilt of the darksaber was suddenly in her hand, almost charred beyond recognition. Bo-Katan stared at it through her visor, thankful for the physical barrier across her face so her expression could not be seen. She could still feel Gideon’s fist, clenching around her hand, breaking her fingers against this very hilt; felt the metal through her glove as it splintered under the pressure, felt the searing pain of her bones as she refused to scream because that was what he wanted.
Ahsoka, she knew, could sense her blazing anger in that moment, though she didn’t say anything. Instead, she closed her own fist around the darksaber’s hilt, and the damaged metal crumbled away into ash to the ground, nothing of it left.
All that remained was a shining crystal in her palm.
She held it up to Bo-Katan. “Would you like to do the honors of throwing it in the forge fires?”
Bo-Katan took a step back, revulsion building like sickness in her throat. Seeing that crystal, knowing it had powered the weapon that had plagued her for so long, that had caused so much death in her life - no. She didn’t even want to touch it.
Ahsoka hummed, closing her fingers around it to block the kyber from view, and Bo-Katan felt a small twinge of guilt for pummeling her with all that out of nowhere. The guilt turned swiftly to relief, because Ahsoka understood without her having to speak it aloud.
“Tarre Vizsla was a Jedi,” she said softly, almost an excuse. But the words made sense as she said them. “I already destroyed the darksaber. A Jedi should be the one to destroy his kyber crystal. Don’t you think?”
Ahsoka did not comment on the very faint hint of desperation that Bo-Katan knew was coming through. Instead, she nodded an affirmation. “A very astute request. Come,” she said. “Sit with me. Cover my hands with yours. This will only take a minute.”
Bo-Katan complied without question. Ahsoka rearranged herself to sit more comfortably and Bo-Katan joined her on the dusty ground, reaching out to grasp her clasped hands into both of her own. Ahsoka immediately closed her eyes, falling into meditation.
Bo-Katan could feel an odd pulsing from Ahsoka’s hands, bleeding up into her arms to vibrate under her beskar. It was like a static charge, waiting for something. A restless, though weak, power.
As soon as she realized it was there, the sensation flowed back down her arms, her fingers, and seeped again upward into Ahsoka’s grasp. Ahsoka opened her eyes with a small gasp.
Bo-Katan stared at her, unsure, and Ahsoka gave her a comforting smile.
“Done,” she said.
She opened her hands, cupping the crystal between them. Bo-Katan’s gaze flitted down to it. The kyber looked…dead. It truly looked dead, all the inner light gone. A thin crack ran halfway down the center.
“I can never be used in a weapon again?” Bo-Katan asked, not quite able to let herself believe it.
“No,” Ahsoka confirmed, her smile soft and true. “Never again.”
This time Bo-Katan accepted the crystal when Ahsoka handed it to her. She felt absolutely nothing from it, not like she felt from the one around her neck. Not like she’d felt from the darksaber itself only weeks before, as the blade pulsed with use.
“It would be best to bury what’s left,” Ahsoka told her. “Somewhere that held importance to Tarre.”
Bo-Katan thought quickly, running through the Vizsla lineage and where they had been located through the ages. She shook her head. “Tarre’s home was here, on Mandalore; it’s long since gone, and I can’t imagine what was left survived the Empire’s bombs.”
She was quiet for a moment, Ahsoka watching her, before she said, “The Vizsla clan moved their home to Concordia during my lifetime. Pre took me there once. Would that count?” she asked, looking up. “His current family’s ground rather than his ancestral home?”
“Certainly,” Ahsoka agreed. “In fact, I think that would be perfect.”
Ahsoka got elegantly to her feet through a cloud of dusty ash. She held her hand out for Bo-Katan, who accepted the unneeded assistance without comment. They left their hands intertwined. Bo-Katan slipped the broken crystal into the pouch at her belt.
“Will you come with me?”
Ahsoka smiled at her again, her face so bright and beautiful even in the gloom of this place. “Of course I will.”
“You know,” Bo-Katan murmured, almost more to herself as she thought out loud. They crunched over rubble as they left the cratered space. “Paz lived in the home on Concordia at one point, too. Perhaps we should bring Ragnor, show him where he comes from. I’m quite certain he’s never been there.”
“I love that,” Ahsoka said. “Yes, you should invite him.”
They didn’t speak again as they left the rubble behind. Their hands were still grasped, their shoulders brushing every so often as they walked side by side.
Bo-Katan felt lighter in that moment than she had in a very long time.
It finally felt like her ordeal was over.
She was free.