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Later back on the mantis Greez would remember and think about how awesome it was.
Later he would finally stop feeling afraid of the memory when Cal’s little apprentice practised that skill, the blaster being her weapon of choice she turned Cere bright pink with the paintballs they were using, everyone laughing uproariously and taking pictures. Later he would see her land in full Manalorian laying down impossible field of fire saving them all.
But that was later, now he was going to die on some pathetic little rim world that hadn’t even earned the dignity of a name just a catalogue number. It was way too soon after Nur, Cal wasn’t up for this. It was just supposed to be a nice easy supply run, pick up a few spices, a couple of luxuries nothing even that important. And yet somehow this waste of space grassland world had rated an entire squad storm troopers and Inquisitor that was getting far too close all of which were firing at them. Cal’s arms shook with each blaster bolt he deflected away. His saber’s green light adding a sickly cast to his already pale skin.
On this tiny market street with its colourful triangular flags flapping in the breeze that up until the first shots rang out had been as crowded as this world ever got. At least that meant there was no one to get hurt, well except for them. Greez’s hand shook throwing off his already bad shots as he tried to be useful in a fight way above his pay grade.
Now if they made it back to the Mantis these things were going to pay. If. Even BD’s possible curses from Cal's shoulder them to have no impact and that continuous tone was getting annoying. The inquisitor laughed as he leapt forward not close enough to touch them yet. The sound of his voice did. His laughter would haunt Greez’s nightmares, its unhinged unnatural sound was what the Empire wanted for his people. Sometimes it would come from Cere, sometimes from Cal but it was always the worst when it came from one of the children of the Path. On days when he thought this whole thing was too big for him, like he couldn’t do anything and staying he would just watch the people that he loved paid the price for simply existing. But that was always it, they were here because just cause they were born and that was too wrong. So if they wanted one bad ass pilot and that was what was going to help than who was he to say no. And he stayed.
Later Cal and Cere would agree it was his shot that hit first, because they were too selfless like that.
Later as Cere was patching up a sleepy Cal, who clearly thought this could be done later. She would explain that his brain has screened out peripheral vision, so he hadn’t seen her come up beside them. But the inquisitor’s helmet shattering from her blaster shot bits of the red visor drifting in the air like sparkling gems was the first sign he realized he was being bracketed by Jedi. Cere taking calm and collected shots that somehow dropped someone with each round. Cal pulling out his second blade to spin them both in a whirlwind of colour that seemed to weave a wall on that side of him against any bolts from hitting him. With each shot the inquisitor was forced back yet they continued to move backwards themselves, it wasn’t until they were in the archway leading to the docking bay that he realized they had been moving back this whole time and free of danger.
Later sitting in the pilot’s chair with the comforting swirl of hyperspace he would lean back, toast the blue light. “Huh, I actually lived.”