Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Run. He had to run. Get away. They were so close now. Too close. They’d already shot his brother, dead before his body hit the ground. There was nothing he could do for him. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t go back. His foot caught on the uneven ground, sending him crashing to the ground. Get up! He had to get up.

His vision distorted, the tunnel suddenly brighter. His body was unusually heavy, his limbs tangled in an unseen net. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins. He fought to get his hands free of whatever had ensnared him, his palms meeting cold metal instead of dust and gravel.

He pushed himself up off the floor and blearily looked at his surroundings. He expected to find himself in the underground tunnels, dark and damp. Instead he was met by the sight of what looked like some kind of converted storage container. It was… familiar?

The sound of a blaster bolt whistled over his head. Instinctively he dropped to the floor once more but did not hear it strike, bursting into molten sparks. He looked up only to see the same dull metal walls, unmarred. There wasn’t anyone else here; the room was too small for anything bigger than a scraprat to hide.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to remember how he’d gotten here through the fog in his head. He couldn’t remember why he’d been running. He knew this room though. Despite its small size he knew it was safe, a refuge from the rain and noise. He’d worked hard for it, barely scraping by as the guild lowered wages year after year. He rubbed his eyes still gummy with sleep, hoping to clear his muddy thoughts. The terror of the nightmare slowly faded, reality clicking into place.

He wasn’t underground. He wasn’t fleeing from stormtroopers. His name was Cal Kestis, and he was going to be late for his next shift if he didn’t get moving.

With a groan he untangled himself from the tatty blanket wrapped around his legs, got up from the floor and sat on the edge of his bed while he waited for the rest of his brain to wake up. This was far from the first time he’d found himself on the floor gripped by a nightmare. It didn’t matter if it was one of his own or if he’d picked up through an echo, it left him exhausted and shaken all the same.

He sat for a while, trying to get his heartrate back under control, breathing slowly as sweat cooled on his skin. He had no idea if that man had escaped in the end, the echo stopping mid-chase with no indication of his fate. He’d like to think he got out.

“Ever the optimist.”

“That’s me.”

Once he felt a little more grounded, Cal set about getting ready for work to the usual background noise of heavy rain and chatter in his head. His apartment was always cold, so he dressed quickly, pulling his uniform from the railing above the feeble heater where he’d laid it out to dry. The slight warmth of the fabric was welcome, though it wouldn’t last once he stepped outside.

“Looks like rain,” a voice said as he glanced out the tiny, fogged window.

“Always does,” he sighed to the empty room. Every day was the same. Cal would wake from one nightmare or another and the voices in his head would provide unhelpful commentary as he got ready for work. He’d realised early on that there was no consciousness behind them, they were simply echoes that held on and broadly followed the flow of his own thoughts, bubbling to the surface to be heard. There were an unfortunate amount triggered by the rain.

He grabbed a ration bar along with his tools before heading out into the rain. At first, he’d struggled to remember to take food with him when he moved in since he no longer had Prauf to remind him. He was so often preoccupied by the noise in his head, his thoughts derailed at the slightest distraction, that remembering the basics wasn’t easy. Instead, every time he stepped out the door an echo of an elderly lady chastising her granddaughter for forgetting to eat surfaced. Eventually Cal got into the habit of remembering food and the echo stopped. Sometimes he missed the fondness of it, but he reminded himself it wasn’t his memory to have. By all rights, he should never have witnessed it in the first place.

He stuck his headphones on and turned the volume as high as it would go before pulling the hood of his poncho up against the driving rain. The morning crowds were always difficult. Not only did he have to contend with sensory hell as the surge of people crushed him on the way to the station, but when everyone owned so little, clothes and gear often carried echoes, pressing against his mind.

There was little he could do to avoid them. It didn’t matter how many layers were between them and his skin, unless they were little more than the slightest impression, he was forced to bear witness on contact. Over the years he’d gotten better at pushing through them, to keep walking even when his body was no longer his own and his eyes no longer saw what was in front of him. The music helped, cutting through the memories and giving him an anchor to return to. That wasn’t to say it was easy. On bad days he was left with a migraine before he’d even set foot on the train.

“Didn’t you hear? Pria almost lost her head when the supports collapsed.”

“Not surprised. There’s no such thing as safety procedures anymore. No one cares if we get killed on the clock.”

“Don’t get caught saying stuff like that or you’ll end your shift at the barrel of a blaster.”

This was however a good day. Mostly. While there was no avoiding the echoes altogether, they weren’t sinking their talons into his brain and tearing him apart. He took the wins where he could. The narrow streets were packed as the morning shift headed to the station while those returning from the night shift came in dregs, working against the flow to get to their beds. Cal kept his hands in his pockets and let the crowd lead him to his destination.

“How much did you get this time?”

“Twenty credits. Enough for rent if I skip meals this week.”

Once inside the station, Cal pulled his hood down and made his way over to where Prauf was waiting. “Hey pal, how you doing today?” he asked once Cal took his headphones off.

He’d quickly figured out something wasn’t quite right with Cal after he took him in. There wasn’t much avoiding it when they were often stuck inside Prauf’s small apartment together and Cal was having fragmented conversations with invisible people. At first Cal had worried what he might do, but to both to his relief and surprise, Prauf only asked if there was anything he could do to help. Cal admitted he could hear voices in his head and couldn’t always tell if they were real. Of course, he didn’t tell him why he could hear voices. That information was too dangerous.

“I’m alright,” Cal replied.

“For now. Nothing ever lasts.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, giving Cal a nudge with his elbow. They talked for a short while before the train arrived and the crush to get on board began. Cal ended up wedged between Prauf and the wall, giving him very little room to breathe, let alone move. Still, it was preferable to being stuck between strangers or with an echo. It was tempting to put his headphones back on, but the battery wasn’t what it used to be, so he needed to conserve its charge if he wanted them to last the entire twelve hour shift.

“Damn thing’s got no power. What are we supposed to do now?”

The carriage gradually emptied out as they stopped at numerous scrapyards, blending together in their monotony, until finally it was their stop. Above them loomed the gutted Venator they’d been working on for the past month. Sparks lit the structure, bright points in the gloomy dawn filtering through heavy clouds and drizzle.

Cal and Prauf went their separate ways once they climbed up the wreck. Prauf went to the interior since there were some blast doors that needed dismantling. Not Cal’s type of work so he wished him luck and headed out to the engine exhaust hanging over the Ibdis Maw. Cal preferred working out here since it was inaccessible while operational, and therefore had a significantly lower chance of an unavoidable echo hanging around. There hadn’t been any major accidents either, but nothing good ever lasted.

Almost as soon as he arrived a group called him over to help them remove a fuel cell. “We need someone to climb up there and disconnect the coupling,” Saswik, a Togruta man and fellow rigger said, pointing to a small gap in the wall several meters up. “It’s a tight fit and you look like you’ll fit.”

“How much is it worth?” he asked. He’d learnt quickly not to do jobs as favours.

“Fifty credits each if we can get this moved in the next two hours.”

That would pay for next week’s meals nicely. “Deal.”

It took several minutes to set Cal’s safety line up, but it was a process made easier with Saswik’s help. Soon he was scaling the wall and pulling himself into the narrow gap. It was a tight fit, meant for service droids, not people, but Cal pulled himself through bit by bit. It was a good thing he’d never been claustrophobic. It was hard work crawling through the narrow passage, his arms and shoulders burning from the strain, the only source of light from his headtorch.

“I don’t like it here. It’s dark and it smells funny,” a young voice echoed through his mind, bringing with it a sharp spike of fear.

“It should be just ahead,” he muttered to the darkness. Whether he was trying to reassure the voice or himself, he wasn’t sure. A minute later he found the coupling, the space around it just about large enough to manoeuvre, though not without difficulty. “Found the coupling,” he said into his comm.

“Make it quick Cal, we can’t afford to stand around here waiting for you all day.”

Cal didn’t dignify that with a response. He turned on a second torch to give himself a bit more light to work with and assessed what needed to be done. These couplings could usually be disabled remotely but there was a multitude of reasons it might not work. All Cal was really concerned with was whether there were any live wires. All too often he heard stories of scrappers who hadn’t checked if there was a backup supply and ended up getting fried.

“Is power definitely off out there?” he asked through the comm.

“This thing’s as dead as they come,” Saswik said. Cal put his hand on the casing, sensing for vibrations. It was cold and still, no hint of vibration or static. The Force didn’t stir, not that it did much these days. Still, if he was about to accidentally get himself hurt it tended to give a dull warning. Deciding it was about as conclusive an answer as he was going to get, he pulled out his welding torch and began cutting.

“Ouch, it burns!”

“That’s what you get for messing around, now quit squirming and let me take a look.”

Sharp pain. A hiss. “I said keep still.”

“Sorry Ma.”

“You’re lucky. It should heal fine. Stay away from the fence from now on.”

“Cal? You there?” Saswik’s voice crackled through the comm.

Cal shook himself from the echo, remembering where he was. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh, good. Thought something had happened to you for a moment there. How you getting on?”

While Cal had been caught up in the echo he’d cut through the panel, exposing the wiring below. It wasn’t his neatest work, but he’d not cut his fingers off while distracted so he couldn’t complain. He’d found what he was looking for, a large hydraulic switch now visible. “I’ve found the override. Have you secured the cell?”

“What do you take me for, an amateur? You’re good to go,” he laughed before disappearing from the comm.

Cal grabbed it and tried to pull it down. It didn’t move. It was meant for droids capable of a lot more power than he was in such a small space after all. It took his entire body weight hanging off it to get it to budge, and even that required a bit of jiggling back and forth. With a screech it finally gave way, dropping Cal on his arse. A dull thunk resonated down the tunnel as the coupling released. “Is it done?” he asked through the comm.

“Yeah we’ve got it now. Come on out.”

Cal quickly gathered his tools, leaving the panels behind. They weren’t worth the trouble it would take to get them back out the tunnel. This whole section would be taken apart eventually anyway, most of the small bit of scrap dumped into the Ibdis Maw. The climb back out was no less difficult or time consuming, but at least this time there was the promise of open space.

“There he is! Our man of the hour!” Saswik said as he wriggled out of the narrow tunnel, trusting the Togruta to hold his line and keep him from falling as he worked himself free. “You may as well stay up there and help Unra cut through those connectors,” he called up.

“On it,” Cal said once he’d righted himself. He swung himself over to land on top of the fuel cell where Unra was already working. Saswik lowered him so that he was level with it before letting go of his line to get to work. Cal secured the line himself, leaving enough slack that he could move around but not too much that he would hit the ground several meters below if he fell.

Cutting through cabling and pipes was the sort of tedious work where he wished he could put on his headphones and focus on the task at hand without distraction. But with other people around and balanced on top of a fuel cell that had the potential to topple over at the slightest notice, that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. It was easy to become lax about safety when there were no regulations, but that was how people got killed. Prauf had drilled into him the importance of checking his own safety at work since no one else was going to.

“Hey, could you pass me that wrench?”

“Sure,” he said, turning to look for it. He thought it was to his left but there was nothing there. Nothing to his right either. “Uh… where is it?”

“Who’re you talking to?” a much gruffer voice said. Cal looked up to find Unra, a mountain of a Zabrak known to have a short fuse. He was glaring at him, but Cal wasn’t sure if that was just his default expression or not. It was only the two of them up here, anyone else would have to shout. Now that he thought about it, that voice had definitely not belonged to Unra.

One from inside his head, blurring the lines then. Great.

“No one, sorry,” he said.

“Then quit messing around and get back to work. We’re on a time limit here,” he growled before turning back to the pipe he’d been cutting through. Cal gave a muttered apology and got back to work. He hated it when the voices snuck up on him like that. It wasn’t like he didn’t know they weren’t real, but it required attention he often couldn’t spare to keep track of them. Working in this environment meant he was constantly around a shifting cast of scrappers who sometimes really did appear out of nowhere. He couldn’t afford to ignore anyone he didn’t immediately recognise. Hence his unfortunate reputation for being unstable.

Most scrappers left him alone, or at the very least didn’t object to working with him which suited him just fine. There were a handful however who refused to even talk to him, believing he was cursed or something equally idiotic. Cal kept his distance from them and luckily Unra seemed to be of the former group.

Eventually the fuel cell was cut free from the defunct power lines and coolant pipes and carefully lowered onto a waiting hoverbarge. Cal made sure his ID was scanned so he’d get paid later. The cell was almost perfectly intact so it should be worth a fair amount. The group dispersed as soon as the barge was taken away, already searching for their next score.

Cal headed to the very edge of the engine, peering down at the Maw below. Its tendrils arced into the air, threatening the barges flying above it just out of reach. From here, he could see scrap being dumped from other ships.

“It sure is a long way down.”

“You can say that again,” he said, moving away from the edge. When he turned to see who had spoken he found no one. “Great,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. Maybe it was going to be a bad day after all.

Since there didn’t seem to be any other teams who might need his particular skills nearby, he set about tearing apart a control circuit near the edge. The solitary work meant he could listen to music which was ideal if the voices were going to blur the lines more than he was comfortable with. He opened the panel and began meticulously removing the more valuable components, setting them aside before cutting out the wiring and stripping it for the metal inside. It was tedious work, but someone had to do it and at the end of the day it all got turned into credits. Over the next few hours, he worked his way across the wall, only stopping for a ten minute break at lunch to scarf down his ration bar.

The only interruption came from a tap on his shoulder as it started to get dark. Looking up, he saw Prauf indicating for him to take his headphones off. He did as he was asked, pausing the music. “Foreman wants to talk to you.”

“Never a moment of peace.”

Cal looked over to the droid who stood nearby, waiting. Cal rolled his eyes but went over to see what the droid had to say. “An error has been detected on line ten-A. All our clamps are jammed. I need two workers to climb up and secure the cables.”

“Kriff, those cutters are early! There aren’t even any supports!”

“The whole thing’s going to collapse.”

“That’s not an easy manoeuvre,” Cal said, blinking hard as he tried to keep himself in the present.

“We will double your pay,” the droid said.

Prauf turned to him, clearly having decided he was going to take the job already. “Come on, Cal. Twice our score. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

It wouldn’t be too difficult a task for Cal, and the extra credits would be more than welcome. Twice their usual rate would almost cover next month’s rent. “Alright.”

“Great, let’s go!” Prauf said, already heading deeper into the ship. Cal followed after, expertly jumping and climbing his way up through the wreck. He wished he could put his headphones back on as the voices kept intruding, but he’d learnt from too many unfortunate echoes that it was better to be able to hear a shouted warning in time. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly find himself falling through the deck again because he hadn’t realised a beam was about to give way.

After an unexpected detour he made it up to the clamps. Once he’d secured them manually he joined Prauf on top of the wing.

“You don’t see a view like that often, eh?” a voice said he looked out over the shipbreaking yards littered with Venators, stretching out beyond the horizon. He’d seen Bracca from orbit. There wasn’t anything out there but rocky wasteland and more junk. Ships were bought in faster than they could be torn apart, dumped further and further out, waiting to be disposed of one way or another.

“Hey Cal, come take a look at this,” Prauf called, drawing his attention away. Cal recognising the shape of the burnt out husk before Prauf even said it. “It’s a Jedi fighter! What a score!”

“Turn back,” the voices said, accompanied by a dull thrum in the Force.

“This heap’s been here, what, four years?”

“Five,” Cal said distantly. Prauf went on but Cal was only paying him half a mind, focused instead of the pull of an echo on the wing of the wreck. It buzzed under his skin, an itch he couldn’t scratch, gnawing at the back of his mind.

“Go on,” the voices called, taunting him, even as the Force warned him away. “Take a look. You know you want to.” He stepped closer, holding his hand out but not quite touching yet. He could tell it was strong by the way he felt drawn to it, a black hole that would consume him and replace his mind with another’s. The last thing he wanted was to completely lose himself on top of the Venator where he might slip and fall. But it had been so long since he’d seen anything belonging to the Jedi aside from his own broken lightsaber, he couldn’t resist. He’d been having a decent enough day so far. Maybe he’d get lucky.

He pressed his hand to the rusted metal, making the movement look a little more natural by wiping some of the grime from the faded symbol of his home.

“R3, I’ve lost power!”

A series of beeps came through the comm. Her binary wasn’t great, but even she knew the situation was dire. The engine had been hit and R3 wouldn’t be able to restore power in time. She did what she could, fighting against the controls of her crippled ship and taking down as many of the Separatist droids as she could.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” she said as she entered a death spiral, a Venator looming through the viewport.

Cal drew his hand away with a gasp, pressure building behind his eyes with the beginnings of a migraine. Death was always hard to witness.

“You alright pal?” Prauf asked. He was stood still, watching Cal carefully.

Cal cleared his throat, fighting back the lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

Prauf nodded, not entirely convinced but trusting Cal would say something if he was getting bad. “You know,” he said, picking up where he left off, “finder’s fee for this? Could be your ticket off this soggy rock.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “This again.”

“What makes you think I want out of here?” he asked flatly.

Prauf scoffed. “Come on Cal, you’re a young guy. You don’t want to end up like me.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Cal asked. “Half the crew here think I’m some kind of bad omen. Who do you think out there would be willing to hire an epileptic scrapper who hears voices and isn’t even old enough to drink in most cantinas?”

“Good luck getting hired with no credentials.”

“You’re not helping,” he muttered under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose, dull pain making itself known behind his eyes.

Prauf gave him a look to mean he was being ridiculous, bypassing the out of place remark. Of course the idea of leaving had crossed Cal’s mind before, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to leave Bracca. He held no love for the place whatsoever, but here he could blend in and go unnoticed by the Empire. As soon as he left he’d start sticking out, especially without Prauf around to pull him back to reality every now and then or to ward off anyone who got a little too curious about his condition.

“There’s more to life than this Cal. Eventually you’ve gotta move on and live your life. Find your destiny!” Prauf said. “I don’t believe you should be stuck here forever because of something out of your control.”

Cal wished it was that simple. He really did. This was far from the life that he had dreamed of all those years ago in the Jedi Temple, but the realities of war had soon stripped away any ambition he’d once held aside from becoming a Knight one day. Now even that was gone and he just took life one day at a time.

Before he could respond, the ship cutter’s beam cut out, the obnoxious buzzing in the air ceasing. Something tugged at the edges of his awareness but he pushed it down, worried it might be another echo bubbling to the surface. “We should get back down,” he said to Prauf, ending the conversation. The wing would be moved shortly, and he still needed to catalogue and scan in the materials he’d salvaged below.

“Hey, you’re not listening,” Prauf said, following behind.

The tugging became a pull, urging him to move. The wing jolted beneath their feet. Cal fell to one knee, barely staying upright. One of the cables had given way, durasteel hitting the wing with a deafening clang as the others following in quick succession.

Before he could get back to his feet and run, the entire section gave way. It was impossible for Cal to keep his balance, the rain-slick metal offering no traction whatsoever against the severe angle. He tumbled down alongside Prauf, trying to grab on to anything that might slow his fall to no avail.

Far too soon, he reached the end of the wing and dropped over the edge, only to be yanked to a stop. Pain tore up his leg, severe enough that Cal feared for a second it might be dislocated. Looking down, or up he supposed now that he was dangling in midair, he could see his foot had gotten caught in some cabling, bringing him to an abrupt stop.

“Prauf, you okay?” he called to his friend who was clinging on to the ragged edge for dear life, the slick metal offering nothing for him to hold on to.

“Cal! I-I can’t climb up!” As he spoke, his foot slipped, causing him to fall further. Cal’s heart almost leapt out of his chest.

“It’s a long way down. But it’s not the fall that kills you. Not on Bracca.”

“Just hang on!” he said as he frantically looked for some way to climb back up and help.

Prauf slipped again, letting go of the side to grab onto an overhanging pipe. He only caught it with one hand, unable to reach up to reach it with his other.

“Grab my hand!”

“I can’t hold on!” Cal could only watch in horror as his hand slipped, sending him plummeting to the Ibdis Maw below.

“Prauf! No!”

“Do something!”

Without thinking, Cal reached out with both hands and called upon the Force in a last desperate attempt to save his life. It tore at him, his connection ragged and strained after going so long untouched. But to his astonishment, it responded. Prauf’s fall slowed long enough for a hoverbarge to fly under him. Cal reached up and quickly managed to get his foot free, dropping to land beside his friend. He rolled to absorb the impact, allowing the Force to cushioned the impact instinctively.

“You okay Prauf?” he asked, already going to shift the beam that had fallen on him.

“I’m alright,” he said, though the strain in his voice suggested otherwise. He waved Cal off. “Get us on the ground.” Cal turned his attention to the controls. A droid was slumped over the panel, completely useless. He shoved it overboard into the Maw, frantically trying to figure out the controls.

“They’re gonna make me redundant soon,” the pilot muttered to himself as he flew the barge to the docks. “Replace me with a droid and turn me into a scrapper. Well, I’ll just have to get off this pathetic excuse of a planet before that happens.”

He shook himself out of the memory, now finding the buttons before him far more familiar than they had been only a few seconds ago. He reached for the lever that would take them higher, out of the reach of the Maw, sending silent thanks to the long gone pilot’s frustration.

“Watch out Cal!” Prauf cried, pointing to a massive tentacle heading right for them. Cal steered the barge out of the way, narrowly avoiding being swept off. A second tentacle clipped the side of the barge, sending it spinning. Cal just about managed to keep the crippled barge in the air long enough to guide it over to the nearest platform.

The landing was rough, close to knocking him off his feet. He hit the kill switch before rushing over to Prauf. He grabbed one end of the girder, only able to lift it just enough to allow his friend to free his leg. There was a very good reason he was a rigger, not a cutter.

He helped Prauf to his feet, letting him rest his weight on his shoulders. “What was that back there?” he asked as they miraculously walked away, unscathed save for a few bruises. “Was that you?”

“I have to get out of here. When she finds out what I’ve done she’ll kill me.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Oh kriff. What have I done?”

Cal shoved down the rising panic. He had to find some way off-world. He would surely be found out if he stayed. It was only a matter of time. The Empire had probe droids all over the place and he wasn’t naïve enough to believe this wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“That was the Force, wasn’t it?” Prauf asked again.

“Just forget what you saw, okay? Please, trust me.” Prauf didn’t seem to hear him, rambling on about stories of Force users. Cal grabbed his head in his hands, forcing him to focus on him. “Prauf, I know!” he said, finally getting his attention.

“I know,” he repeated, far more calmly than he felt. He raised a finger to his lips and Prauf finally seemed to understand.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

With a nod, Cal turned to head back towards the scrapyard. It would take a while to get back up to the ship. Guess he wouldn’t end up getting those extra credits after all.

Chapter Text

Cal tried to act as normal as possible for the remainder of his shift once they returned to the Venator. It helped that everyone knew the wing had collapsed and already assumed they’d both fallen victim to the Maw, so if Cal seemed more rattled than usual he had an easy excuse. He returned to where he’d been working earlier, mostly just trying to look busy. He stuck his headphones on, catalogued what he’d already salvaged and made a half-arsed effort at stripping the wiring he’s already pulled out.

He’d be long gone before the next payday one way or another so there wasn’t much point in doing more than the bare minimum to avoid getting yelled at by the foreman droid. Besides, it would look suspicious if he just sat there until the end of shift. As his hands worked, he tried to keep himself from getting lost in a spiral of worst case scenarios by coming up with a possible route off-world.

There were supply ships and shuttles landing all the time. Even transports had to stop somewhere and Bracca wasn’t a bad place to breakdown with its abundance of spare parts.

“‘Stowaways will be shot on sight.’ Ain’t that a welcome.”

“This isn’t a passenger ship. Workers only.”

That would certainly complicate things. Getting off-world wasn’t as simple as finding a pilot willing to accept a bribe. The guild forbid scrappers from even going anywhere near the spaceports unless given explicit permission. He’d have to sneak past the checkpoints and avoid patrolling stormtroopers just to get to the nearest landing pad, then beg passage off someone in exchange for what few credits he had to his name and hope they wouldn’t just turn him in. Saving money was next to impossible, but he had maybe a hundred credits hidden around his apartment, just in case of emergencies. And this definitely qualified. It wasn’t a solid plan, but it was his best shot of escaping with his life.

He’d still be abandoning the guild, his indenture hanging over him for the rest of his life. Technically he was considered property, and the guild wasn’t known for letting go of what was rightfully theirs without a fight. He’d never thought too much about paying it off, never having expected he’d need to leave. Regardless, it was a sum far larger than he could ever realistically hope to pay off, especially not with wages so low and the cost of food and rent still climbing.

So, not only will he have to find last minute transport with essentially pocket money, but he’ll also have to dodge security while avoiding drawing attention to himself. And that was assuming he could make it back to his apartment in time to grab his bag without getting stopped.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, kid.”

“What choice do I have?” he muttered.

Settled on his escape plan, his mind wandered elsewhere. He’d used the Force for the first time in five years. After landing on Bracca, his connection had shattered, raw and painful instead of calming and steady. It resisted him in a way it never had before. A cord pulled taut, seconds from snapping, lashing out and cutting deep. He’d quickly stopped trying, every attempt to find a scrap of comfort only reminding him of everything he’d lost.

But it had answered his call when he’d needed it, slowing Prauf’s fall just long enough to save his life. It hadn’t felt anything like it used to, still painful and strained, but usable. Just about. Maybe that was something he would have to try working on now that he was on the run. At least until he found somewhere far away from here he could lay low.

Cal was so caught up in his own thoughts and the swirl of voices, he didn’t notice when the shift ended. It was only when Prauf tapped him on the shoulder that he took his headphones off and realised most people were filing out as the next crew arrived. “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“Time to go!”

“They’re coming!”

“Run!”

There wasn’t much for Cal to clean up since he’d mostly just been removing panelling for the last hour. He tucked his torch into his belt and followed after Prauf. “How’s your leg?”

“That was a nasty fall you had there.”

“A little sore but nothing’s broken,” he said. He was limping slightly, but Prauf was tough. It would take more than a durasteel beam to take him down. “How’s your head?”

“Didn’t hit it, did you?”

“No, it’s just… loud,” he sighed. His music had kept the worst of it at bay, but now he was no longer drowning it out, it was quickly getting the better of him. A combination of stress and using the Force for the first time in so long working against him. “Busy.”

“You can stick those back on if you like,” he said, pointing to his headphones now resting around his neck. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Thanks Prauf.” He did just that, letting Prauf guide him out of the Venator when his awareness of his surroundings began to slip. He was going to miss Prauf, but if it was a choice between leaving him behind and letting him die, he would make the same decision every time. He was the only one aside from Tabbers who had tried to understand what he was dealing with. Both of them had kept an eye on him until Tabbers somehow paid off his indenture and left for Nar Shaddaa. Cal missed him too, but he didn’t begrudge him leaving. Maybe if he made it out he could find him and lay low with him for a while. He wouldn’t ask too many questions and could probably help him move on to somewhere a little safer.

They waited in the rain at the station for an eternity. “Do you see it? There!”

“She’s coming.”

Cal couldn’t help but look over his shoulder, paranoia slipping through the cracks. He knew it only made him look more suspicious, but he couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling taking root in his gut. The only thing behind him was a steadily growing crowd of exhausted scrappers, none of whom were paying him any attention.

“They’ll be here soon. You need to leave.”

When the train finally arrived everyone shuffled on board. The journey back to the city was always quieter, allowing them to find seats easily enough. Cal took off his headphones, starting to get a overstimulated from the same twenty songs on loop. He’d have to make sure to grab his other music chips before he left. He needed his headphones to function, so he may as well enjoy what he was listening to.

“I know what you are. What you did.”

“Cal,” Prauf said, cutting through the noise. “I’ve known you for some time now, and I’ve never seen you do anything like that before.” Cal sat up straight, surreptitiously looking around at the other scrappers, afraid someone might be listening in.

“Go, before I make you.”

“It’s not safe here.”

“Watch your back out there.”

The voices stacked over each other, each giving him vague warnings of danger. It was little more than a jumbled mess, only the loudest bleeding through and saying anything coherent. It wasn’t unusual for him to get meaningless warnings like this when his anxiety got the best of him. They were only reacting to the turmoil in his head after all. They didn’t know what was going on any more than he did.

“We’ve been through some hell together,” Prauf continued, making sure to keep his voice low, leaning in close. “So I know the risk that you took for me. I just… I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. The rattling of the train was loud enough to drown him out so that only Prauf could hear. “I mean it.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Prauf said quickly. Cal believed him. He’d never expressed any loyalty to the Empire. He’d done just the opposite to the point that Cal had to remind him not to go causing trouble. Even his speech by the wrecked starfighter alone was proof enough that he could trust Prauf. “You know you can’t stay here. It’s not safe. They’ll be looking for you.”

Cal nodded. “I’m going to head back to my place, grab my bag. I’m going to try find a transport off-world. Tabbers owes me a favour if I can make it to Nar Shaddaa.”

“Not the safest place to go.”

“The Empire won’t find me there. Besides, I don’t plan to stay.”

Prauf nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you pal.”

“And I you.” Prauf was the closest thing he had to family, and now he was going to have to leave him behind. It was unlikely they’d meet again. Much like Cal, Prauf had nowhere else to go. He’d been living here almost as long as Cal had been alive. That wasn’t likely to change any time soon, even if he could pay off his own indenture. Maybe one day, years from now, they would cross paths again and they could celebrate leaving Bracca far behind. It was a nice thought, if unrealistic.

Cal could tell Prauf had a multitude of questions, but he kept them to himself. If there was more time he wouldn’t have minded, but on the train they couldn’t take that risk. Instead Prauf turned away to face the rest of the carriage. Cal did the same, resting his head back on the seat. His head was pounding from the agitated chatter and there was very little relief to be had. He let his eyes fall closed, blocking out as much of his surroundings as possible.

“Trust only in the Force.”

Cal woke with a gasp. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, thinking it was beyond him with anxiety churning in his gut and noise rattling his skull. His master’s words rang clearly in his head like a bell. It wasn’t often he saw him in his dreams, but something about this one felt real. He put his head in his hands, scrubbing at his face to chase away the remnants of the nightmare. When he lifted his head he noticed the rest of the scrappers were talking nervously between themselves. He glanced over to Prauf who was similarly on edge.

“We’re stuck until backup comes.”

“The train’s stopped,” he said, belatedly realising they were no longer moving. Voices buzzed in the back of his mind, dampened slightly by the surge of adrenaline but no less unsettled than before. The Force was similarly uneasy, cold fear creeping up his spine. It carried a certain clarity that he only used to get while going on missions during the Clone Wars. Something bad was about to happen.

Prauf muttered something under his breath as he got to his feet, likely intending to figure out what the hold up was. As he did, the door opened and in walked a pair of stormtroopers, answering the question for him. Cal shot to his feet, turning away from them, hoping he hadn’t been spotted.

“Run you idiot!”

“Wait! Don’t leave me!”

“Then move faster.”

Ragged breathing. Blaster fire. A scream.

“No!”

Cal was broken from the echo by the sight of one of the stormtroopers marching past him. He fought to control his breathing which was now coming too quickly, trying not to draw attention to himself. It was probably nothing, just a routine inspection, nothing more. “Move out and line up,” the stormtrooper ordered, adjusting his grip on his blaster.

After a bit of hesitation, the other scrappers started moving, filing out into the rain one by one. Cal followed, Prauf behind him. He was already trying to think up some way he could escape, distracted to the point he almost walked straight into a strange trooper wearing all black armour. Malice rolled off the figure through the Force in waves. Cal stumbled back, looking around only to find they were surrounded by a whole squad of them, all brandishing cruel electroweapons. He fell back in line, joining the other scrappers as a starfighter flew overhead, its engines screaming as it came down to land.

“Danger!”

“Have to get away.”

“I don’t want to die!”

The panicked screaming wasn’t helping him think of an escape plan, the voices all clamouring for attention. They were so kriffing loud that he missed what Prauf said to him as he joined him in line. He wished he could put his headphones on to drown them out just so he could think, but that would likely get him shot. Instead, he watched as two figures, both dressed in black emerged from their respective ships.

“Run!”

The rush of dread that accompanied the voices now was like a kick in the chest, kicking him into fight or flight mode. Cal wished he could do as they begged him to, but he wouldn’t make it more than a couple of steps. He stayed rooted to the spot as the figures approached, both radiating hatred. There was very little doubt in his mind that these were Force users corrupted by the dark side, their presence far larger than their physical selves, poisoning everything around them.

“Is this all of them?” the humanoid woman asked one of the strange troopers. Her accent was crisp, even through her helmet, her tone authoritative. The Dowutin was more physically imposing, towering above even Prauf, but it was clear that the humanoid was the one in charge.

“Yes, Second Sister,” the trooper replied, his voice almost a growl through the heavy modulation.

The Second Sister stepped forward to address the frightened scrappers. “We seek a dangerous fugitive. This is no common anarchist, but a devotee of the treasonous Jedi order.”

“It’s you they’re after.”

“She knows we’re here.”

The Dowutin paced behind her as she spoke, a predator waiting for the hunt to begin. “Failure to turn over this traitor will result in a charge of sedition,” she continued, stopping in front of Cal who was trying very hard not to look at the red visor of her helmet while tamping down the instinct to flee. “Turn yourself in, or everyone present shall face summary execution.”

On cue, the black troopers raised their weapons, electricity crackling and hissing in the rain. Everyone collectively took a step back, shock and fear rippling through the Force. It wasn’t fair. They had nothing to do with this. It was all Cal’s fault, and he couldn’t do anything to help but turn himself in. Still, if it spared their lives, then maybe he could make his death mean something.

“I think… it’s time someone came forward,” Prauf said, stepping out. Cal reached out to stop him, but it was too late.

“He’s marked for death.”

Prauf gave him a sideways glance, clearly just as terrified as Cal. He felt sick. All he could do was let him go, numb with shock. It was too late to do anything for him now. “I-I’ve been working on this heap a long time,” Prauf began, pausing to look at Cal before turning to the other scrappers. “Way before the war. We refit and rebuilt ships.”

“No. I can’t let this happen.”

“It’s too late for any of that now.”

“Why is it always me?”

Cal could barely focus on what his friend was saying. He couldn’t let anything happen to Prauf, not when he’d already done so much for Cal. Far more than he deserved. The only thing he could think to do was fight.

He carried his master’s lightsaber on him at all times, tucked under his harness. Leaving it at home was too great a risk when burglary was rife. He couldn’t take the chance that someone might find it and recognise it while searching for his limited supply of ration bars and the scant credits he had hidden around. The reward for turning him in would almost be enough to buy freedom.

He was vastly outnumbered and stood no real chance of making it out alive himself. But it would be proof enough that he was who they were looking for. Maybe then they would let everyone else go. Slowly, he pulled it free from its hiding place, the metal cool in his hand. He held it out of sight by his leg, waiting for the right time to strike. He didn’t want to risk catching anyone in the crossfire.

“We’re just too afraid to say it,” Prauf said as Cal zoned back in on what was happening, quickly counting up the troopers surrounding them. Prauf moved to stand next to the Second Sister. “To the Empire, we’re all just expendable.”

“Yes, you are,” she said in that chilling voice of hers. She too stepped forward, reaching for something at her side. Cal realised too late what it was as she held it level with Prauf’s chest. A red blade ignited, piercing straight through his heart.

“No!” Cal screamed, igniting his own lightsaber and charging, swinging for her head. Without moving, she ignited a second blade, effortlessly blocking him. Cal could only watch in horror as Prauf’s lifeless body slid to the ground in a heap.

“Look at what you’ve done.”

“What’s this, a lightsaber!” the Second Sister hissed, drawing his attention back to his opponent. She shoved him back by their crossed blades, causing him to stumble in the mud. He went to swing at her again, but she pushed him with the Force, sending him flying into the Dowutin’s grasp.

“I found the Jedi!” she announced, dangling him over the edge of the cliff one handed. Cal swung his lightsaber blindly, hoping to cause some damage. It didn’t connect, but the grip on his poncho released all the same, sending him plummeting.

He deactivated the blade and turned in the air, just in time to hit a train carriage far below. He broke through the roof, landing on a crate before rolling off and hitting the floor in a heap. Pain radiated out from his shoulder and back, the wind knocked out of him. “Oh, that hurts,” he groaned as he forced himself to his feet. Flashes of pain from previous echoes flickered across his mind, stacking over his own pain and tricking his body into thinking the injury was worse than it actually was. Or at least he hoped that was the case. He didn’t have time for this. Those Force users would be after him. He had to move.

White shapes moved in the corner of his eye, drawing his attention. Two stormtroopers were coming towards him, blasters in hand. “Hold it, don’t move,” the nearest one said.

Cal held a hand out, trying to buy himself some time while he remembered how to breathe. “Easy now,” he said, getting to his feet and shoving the pain down to be dealt with later. If there was a later.

“How’d you get here?”

“We got a stowaway,” the other said.

“Watch out!” the voices shouted. Cal reacted, activating his lightsaber as he brought it down in an arc, striking the nearest trooper in the shoulder as he raised his blaster. Before the other could do anything, Cal was already bringing his blade back up to slash him across the chest. They fell before either could reach for their comms. It wouldn’t be enough. The entire train was probably crawling with them, all on the lookout for an escaped Jedi.

There wasn’t any other choice but to keep moving forward. If he stayed in one place they would easily find him. Maybe if he reached the front of the train he could take control. It was a long shot, but it was either that or he sat here and waited to be captured.

“Here goes nothing.”

After taking a moment to regain his bearings he set off. Another two stormtroopers were waiting in the next carriage. Despite never having ignited the blade of his master’s lightsaber before now, all his training came flooding back, bolstered by the faint echoes left behind. Ever since he’d first picked up a training saber in the temple he’d been good at combat, learning the forms and applying them with relative ease. It was second nature, even after all this time.

That didn’t mean the fighting itself went smoothly. His head was a mess of noise, making it difficult to concentrate while adrenaline and pain made his movements sloppy. These troopers were equipped with batons, electricity arcing from them as they swung at him wildly in the hope of landing a hit. A few of them did, electricity racing through his body, burning his skin before he could jerk away. He did his best to ignore it, shoving the pain down until it was just more background noise as he cut them down with his blade. He had to keep going, to push through the pain and disorientation or else he wouldn’t be leaving this train alive.

After fighting his way through and climbing along the outside of a couple of carriages, he reached an open flatbed as the train emerged from a tunnel. An urgent tug in the back of his mind drew his attention upwards. He looked around for any sign of danger before hearing the whine of an engine above the roaring wind.

“Hide!” a multitude of voices screamed as the ship circled around, getting into position to fire, its guns whirring to life.

“Shit!” The fighter opened fire, bolts carving a path towards him, filling the air with sparks and smoke. Cal sprinted for the nearest stack of crates, hoping it would provide enough cover. His back collided with it, sending a jolt of pain through his body. He covered his head with an arm as the bolts flew past, doing what little he could to protect himself from the molten metal thrown up.

The barrage stopped, the changing pitch of the engines above the roaring wind telling him the pilot was repositioning. It was now or never. He only had a small window before they started firing again. Breaking cover, he ran as fast as he could for the door.

“Hurry! Faster!” the more coherent voices screamed as the ship started firing again. The rest were little more than a cacophony making his head pound. He just about made it into the next carriage, the heat of the bolts biting at his heels. The door slid shut behind him, but he was still far from safe. Another trooper came charging at him, but the ship started shooting blindly through the wall, narrowly missing Cal but striking the trooper. He ran on, paying no mind to the body.

He skidded to a stop as the ship wheeled around above him, shooting down at the carriage ahead through the roof. It hit a gas tank, the explosion near blinding. Cal was sent stumbling backwards, one arm shielding his eyes while reaching out to steady himself on the wall with the other. Kriff, he was never going to make it off this train alive at this rate.

When the bright spots cleared from his vision the carriage was gone, little more than mangled wreckage connected to the rest of the train by a thread. With no other choice than to keep going, he leapt over the gap, grabbing on to a warped grate dangling off the back.

“Drop! Get down!”

Without thinking, Cal let go, narrowly catching himself on another grate below. What remained of the carriage above exploded, nearly shaking him loose before toppling off the track, falling into the canyon below. If he’d hesitated, he would have gone down with it. The lower carriage swung down, the coupling having given way. Cal held on for dear life as he dangled above the abyss. The only thing keeping him from falling into it was the death grip he had on the grate.

There was nowhere else for him to go except back up. The roof had been torn open in the blast, allowing him to climb back inside the relative safety of the carriage. At least inside he wouldn’t immediately fall to his death, though the whole thing might detach with him stuck inside if he didn’t hurry. He continued to climb his way up with aching limbs, fuelled by pure adrenaline.

Just as he made it to one of the now open cargo doors, the gunship reappeared. It flew alongside the train, perfectly level. Its guns pointed straight at him, poised to kill. “Move!” the voices screamed, but there was nowhere to go. It would take too long to climb up to the next carriage, but ducking back inside would make him an easy target. All it would take was a well-aimed shot at the remaining coupling and he would be sent plummeting.

This was it. He’d done all he could to escape, to make Prauf’s sacrifice worth something, but this was the end of the line.

“I’m sorry, Prauf.”

Chapter Text

Blaster fire ripped through the sky. Cal screwed his eyes shut and threw his arms around his head, as though that might somehow protect him. He waited for the boiling pain to hit, blinding before everything stopped. An explosion sent him stumbling. Instinctively he reached out to the wall, stopping him from tumbling off the edge.

He looked back up to see the gunship fall, split in two flaming pieces that disappeared into the fog below. A new, much larger ship pulled up to take its place. It didn’t look Imperial. Hell, It didn’t even look like it was made for fighting, its towering fin making it a large target. It came closer to the side of the train as the loading door opened. A woman stumbled out, clinging on to the hydraulic support. “We’re here to help!” she shouted over the howling wind.

“Who are you?” he called back.

“Why are you here?”

“Save me, please!”

“No time! Keep moving, we’ll pick you up when we can,” she said, pointing to the front of the train. With that, the new arrival pulled away, another Imperial ship in hot pursuit. Maybe he had a chance out of here after all. He had no idea what their motives were, but if it meant he had a shot at surviving this then he had to take it.

“Go!” the voices ordered when he still didn’t move, rooted to the spot in shock. He turned to the ruined grate leading up. Without the imminent threat of the ship opening fire, he had enough time to climb it, finally reaching more stable ground, if not safer. More stormtroopers awaited him, their backs turned to watch the two ships chase after each other in the distance. There was no sneaking past them, so he reached for his lightsaber and ignited it.

His head was killing him, shouting and screaming filling his skull. His form was all over the place, messily blocking and deflecting blaster bolts. It was only because their aim was so poor that he avoided getting hit, though it was a narrow thing. The fight took longer than it should have, but he managed to defeat the troopers, mostly through blind luck.

Once the path was clear he ran on, climbing up to the roof. He made it halfway to the next carriage when the train came to a screeching halt. He almost went flying over the edge as he struggled to keep his footing on the slick metal. The wind and rain still tore at him but not with the same ferocity, the biting cold and blinding sheets of water lessening to a more manageable degree. A deafening howl built up to a screech, heralding the arrival of another ship. Cal stood and watched as it flew overhead, heading into the distance before circling behind a Venator.

“It’s coming back!”

“Move!”

The warning came too late. The ship opened fire. The train disappeared from beneath his feet, falling nose first into the canyon. He was unable to stop himself from sliding, loose cargo flying around him. His potential rescuers appeared once more, waiting at the end of what was left of the train as it fell. “Jump now!” the woman shouted, once more hanging off the side of the loading ramp.

Cal did as she said, using the Force as he leapt to give himself enough distance to reach the ramp. He caught the edge under one arm, sliding as his body carried on with the momentum of his jump, dragging him down. His grip was already slipping, hanging on by his fingertips.

“Don’t let go.”

Ignoring the pain of slamming his chest into the edge of the ramp, he grasped at the Force and begged it to give him the strength to hold on, if not pull himself up. The woman was carefully making her way down to him, her hand outstretched but too far for him to grab.

“Too slow.”

Cal’s right hand slipped, leaving him dangling above the canyon by his fingertips. He tried to reach up again. His left hand ached, his arm burning from the strain. The woman was almost there, crouching down to help him. Behind him, he could hear the scream of a starfighter approaching. A single round of blaster fire struck the ship.

“No!”

His stomach dropped as he entered freefall. He wheeled through the air until he managed to right himself. A barge flew by below him, but he was unable to manoeuvre himself over it in time to land there. Instead he curled in on his side to protect his head before colliding with it.

Pain exploded in his side, stealing the air from his lungs as his vision temporarily greyed out. He couldn’t let it distract him; he was still falling, and he wouldn’t survive unless he did something soon. Shoving the pain into the Force to deal with later, he spotted a droid flying below. If he angled himself right, he might be able to grab onto it.

As he got closer, he reached out, catching it on one of its arms. His already aching shoulder screamed at him as the joint was wrenched with the force of impact. The collision sent the droid spinning through the air, but Cal managed to hold on, getting his other arm around it as it began to descend. He crashed down hard at the base of a Venator control tower, landing on his knees. One hand went to his chest, cradling his abused ribs. If he had to guess, he’d broken at least a couple of them.

“Could’ve gone worse.”

“Could’ve gone better,” he groaned as he forced himself to his feet once more. He wasn’t out of danger yet. After no more than two steps, he heard the screech of the starfighter coming in to land. He stopped dead in his tracks as it perched on the platform above, terror bleeding into the Force. The Second Sister emerged, dropping elegantly down to his level with the aid of the Force. “Going somewhere?” she asked, igniting her bleeding lightsaber.

The voices in his head screamed, muddying his thoughts. All he could do was reach for his own weapon and assume a defensive stance. He was under no illusion that he could win this fight. Whoever this Second Sister was, she was trained for hunting Jedi. Cal on the other hand could barely form a coherent thought between the pain, noise and fear.

“I recognise that stance,” she said casually, stalking towards him. “Perhaps you had some training after all.”

Cal tried to back away, but the only thing behind him was the edge of the platform and a deadly drop. There would be no escape from this.

“We’re trapped!”

“Who was your master, Padawan? Someone I killed perhaps?” she said, toying with him. “Who gave their life so that you may live?”

“Master…”

She lunged forward, bringing her lightsaber down in an arc. Cal held his ground, bracing against the force of her strike. He tried to shove her back with their crossed blades, hoping to put some space between them. She stepped away, only to come back with the same ferocity as before, trying to get past his guard.

Cal’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, barely managing to keep hold of his lightsaber through the pain in his arm and chest while the Sister’s strikes remained relentless. It was all Cal could do to keep her at bay, but he wasn’t going to last much longer, unable to make any attacks of his own.

She brought her blade down in a powerful overhead strike. He raised his own to meet it, catching it mere centimeters from his head. She bore her weight down on him, forcing their blades closer to his face. His arms shook with the effort of holding her back, his body in agony. The heat of their blades burnt his skin, stinging his eyes. She pushed harder, slowly gaining the upper hand.

“Watch out!” the voices yelled.

Suddenly Cal found himself flying through the air, his ears ringing. He landed harshly on his back, rolling some way along the platform towards the edge. He shook his head, trying to reorient himself.

“Get on board!” a voice shouted through the haze. It took him a moment to realise it wasn’t coming from inside his own head but the woman from before, the ship now hovering at the edge of the platform. Cal struggled to his feet, grabbing his master’s lightsaber from where it had been knocked from his hands on the way.

He stumbled up the ramp, pausing by the door to look back. The red blade ignited again, cutting through the thick black smoke left behind by the blast. The Second Sister stood silhouetted by its light.

A hand grabbed his arm, pulling him inside the ship. The woman shot at the Sister, but she deftly dodged each bolt, leaping towards the ship as she deflected the bolts back inside the ship. Cal could only duck out of the way as the woman hit the door controls and called to someone to get them out of there.

The ship lurched into the air. Cal followed the woman to the cockpit where a Latero sat, pulling on the controls to get them away as fast as he could. The Sister leapt on to the outside of the viewport, startling all three of them. With a cruel twist of her hand, she wrenched the controls from the pilot’s hands with the Force, sending them into an uncontrolled spin.

It was all Cal could do to hold on and not lose his footing. The woman was able to reach the controls and right the ship, throwing off their pursuer. The pilot quickly took them higher into the atmosphere, away from danger.

The Force still blared danger, so he turned to look at the rest of the ship. It didn’t seem like anyone else was on board, but that didn’t mean he was safe. He had no idea who these people were, how they found him or what they wanted him for.

“There’s nothing but trouble here.”

“Made it out by the skin of our teeth.”

“Okay, shut that thing off and grab some seat.”

“What if it’s a trap? What if we’re stuck here!”

A hand on his arm startled him back to the present. He jerked away, afraid something was coming for him only to find the woman. She held up her hands and took a step back. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Over her shoulder he could see the blue of hyperspace streaking by. They’d made the jump without him even realising. He finally shut off his lightsaber, deciding that whoever these people were, they probably didn’t mean him harm. At least not immediately.

“Bounty hunter by the look of him.”

“What’s your name?”

“Maybe she can help.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, rubbing his pounding head. He leant against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to keep his balance as the adrenaline that had been carrying him so far began to fade, leaving him drained and aching. When he opened them again the woman was watching him expectantly over the holotable. Had she said something? “Uh…” he said lamely, failing to come up with anything more articulate.

“My name is Cere Junda,” she said, sparing him. “And this is my captain, Greez Dritus.”

“How you doing?” the Latero, Greez, said, joining them by the holotable.

This was the part where he should introduce himself. “I’m…” he began, only to be brought short when his own name slipped his mind. It took him a second to sift through the flood of names, the line between himself and the voices having blurred. “Cal,” he said eventually, though even to his own ears it sounded like a bad lie. He briefly thought about adding his last name, but with yet another pause he’d only convince them he was making it up.

Greez said something else then, but Cal couldn’t focus. “It’s not safe here. We have to leave.” With great effort, he pushed off the wall and paced around the ship, looking for any signs of danger. “They’re going to kill you.”

“Why would they do that?” he asked, mildly alarmed as he turned to the side where he thought the voice had come from. If the goal was to kill him, why bother rescuing him from the Empire? But just because he probably wasn’t in immediate danger didn’t mean he was safe.

“Never trust a bounty hunter, lying scum.”

“Those two?” he said, turning back to face his rescuers. Both were watching him warily, like they weren’t sure he wasn’t about to attack them. Good, hopefully it would keep them from trying anything. They didn’t look like bounty hunters. Cere carried a blaster but there was no sign of any other weapon around. They might have hidden them, but the ship itself looked more like a luxury yacht than a mobile arsenal.

“Cal?” Cere said, bringing him back to the present conversation. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one. It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head, trying unsuccessfully to dispel the voices. “Who was that back there?”

Cere narrowed her eyes at him, clearly dissatisfied by his answer. “An Imperial Inquisitor,” she said instead of pressing the issue. “She’s a Force user hunting Jedi survivors, and now that she knows who you are, she will not stop until she destroys you.”

“He’s obviously Imperial. Must be. How else would he know so much?”

“Yeah, how do you know so much?” he asked. “And why’d you help me?”

Cere fixed him with a glare. “Cal, if you’re talking to someone, we need to know,” she said, deadly serious.

“I’m not, I swear. Look, comm’s busted,” he said, unclipping it from its holster and tossing it to her. They only worked for short range communications. Away from Bracca it was functionally useless. “That’s all I’ve got,” he added, holding up his hands in surrender.

“What about those?” Greez said, pointing to his neck.

Cal had forgotten about his headphones, still half hidden under his poncho. Honestly he was surprised he still had them after everything he’d just been through. “They just play music. No comms, I swear.”

“Please don’t take it. Please!”

Cere took a moment to look over the comm in her hands. She seemed satisfied he wasn’t lying but didn’t drop the suspicious glare. “We track Imperial communications,” she said carefully. “We heard the Inquisitors were heading to Bracca. So, we made our move.”

That didn’t exactly explain why they had taken an interest in him. There was absolutely no reason they should’ve risked themselves to save him unless they wanted him for something. The bounty hunter theory seemed the most likely explanation still, but if that were the case he’d expect to be tied up or knocked unconscious already. “Oh yeah? What’s the bounty for a Jedi these days?”

“That’s gratitude for ya!” Greez said. Cal couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. For all he knew he was right and was currently being shipped off to be sold at auction or something equally horrible.

“Out of the frying pan…”

“Look, I get it,” Cere said. “You’ve been surviving on your own for so long that it’s impossible to trust anyone.”

“You know nothing.”

Up until today he’d had Prauf. He might not have known the full truth about who Cal was until the very end, but he had been a loyal friend, willing to put his life on the line to protect him.

“This is about something bigger than just surviving,” she continued.

“Like what?”

“Like rebuilding the Jedi Order.”

“Hold the line.” His master’s dying words rang through his head clear as day, cutting through the chaos for just a brief moment like the air had been sucked out. He could almost believe Master Tapal was in the room, standing just behind him. Logically he knew he was long dead, but he couldn’t help but turn to look over his shoulder, just in case. “You two?” he asked.

“Wait for the Council’s signal.”

“Anyone else? The Jedi Council?”

Cere’s face fell with grief. He knew the answer before she uttered the words. “They’re gone,” she said, looking him in the eye.

“And they’re never coming back.”

“You’re all alone out here.”

“Everyone’s dead…”

The voices cried and screamed with aguish, drowning out the spark of hope his master’s memory had brought. A candle against a tidal wave. He let out a growl of frustration at the noise, pacing again to let out some of the nervous energy threatening to consume him.

“So, I'm all you've got,” he snapped. He didn’t mean to, but his ability to keep functioning was quickly running out. Both Cere and Greez looked at him with pity. He must look like a caged animal, cowering and frightened, ready to bite at the slightest provocation.

Cere said something to Greez but he didn’t hear it, the voices consuming everything else in his mind until noise and grief were the only things he could think about. His head pounded, pressure building until he was certain his skull was going to crack. The danger had passed. He was safe, relatively speaking. But that didn’t stop the echoes from overwhelming him.

“I don’t trust people like that. Way I see it, you’ve gotta prove yourself.”

“Lying is easy. Especially when you know exactly what they want to hear.”

“It only gets worse from here.”

“Why won’t you stop?”

“Hey,” a particularly clear voice said next to his ear. He startled, opening his eyes to find himself crouching on the floor, his hands gripping his hair. He couldn’t remember how he ended up there. “Are you alright?” Cere asked. She was on one knee beside him, hand hovering like she wasn’t sure she should touch him. He’d rather she didn’t.

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, brushing her off. With as deep of a breath as he could manage he stood back up, supressing a groan. He was coming apart at the seams, pain getting the better of him now he could no longer shove it all down. His grasp on the Force was failing, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

“You don’t look like someone who’s fine,” she said flatly, hands still hovering like she thought he might collapse.

“Do I look like I give a shit?”

“That’s rude.”

“Sorry,” she said, backing off a little.

“Huh?” Oh, right. Not real. He shook his head, failing to clear it. “I’m fine,” he repeated, trying to stay calm and not have a meltdown in front of her.

Cere just looked at him sceptically a moment but decided against pushing the issue. “The engine room’s in the back. There’s a bed for you there. And a fresher around the corner. Try to relax,” she said, the last part almost an afterthought.

Cal gave her a short nod and made his way up the steps and through the ship. He seriously doubted he’d manage anything approaching “relaxing”, but at least he could deal with his world imploding in private. He found the engine room easily enough, the door wide open, bright light spilling out. He shut the door behind him, dismayed at the lack of a lock.

“Remember what dad said?”

“Don’t trust anyone.”

“Exactly. That’s how we stay alive out here. We make our own way.”

The room was starting to blur as a migraine was making itself known. Cal fumbled with the control panel until the overhead lights shut off. He put his headphones on and turned up the volume as loud as it would go. It wouldn’t do the pain in his head much good, but he couldn’t stand to listen to the voices any longer. The right speaker had always been temperamental, but now it outright refused to work no matter how many times he jiggled it. Whatever, one side was still better than nothing. It would have to be enough to get him through the night.

In a daze, he quickly stripped out of his soaked uniform, tossing it over a nearby railing in the vain hope it might dry out. His skin was still damp but there wasn’t exactly anything he could use to dry himself. Not that he had the energy even if he did. Every muscle ached, pain radiating out from his probably broken ribs and strained shoulder, a knife driving itself through his skull. He just lay down in the bed and pulled the thin blanket over himself, trying to hold himself together even as he started shaking to pieces.

Chapter Text

They’re coming. They’re coming. Coming to kill him. They know who he is. What he is. They want him dead.

Streaks of red lit up the darkness. The heat of the bolts seared his skin as they flew past. Too close.

The ground collapsed. He’s falling, falling into the inky abyss.

Blinding pain exploded in his chest. Instinctively he curled in on himself, gasping for breath.

“I’ve been shot!”

No. If he’d been shot he’d be dead already. This is somehow worse. Cal groaned, every muscle tense while he waited and hoped the pain would fade, fists clenched in the blanket. It didn’t burn like a bolt would. Was that a good thing? Slowly pain lessened its hold on him, and his senses began to return, the remnants of the nightmare wearing off. He couldn’t remember having that one before. It didn’t feel like an echo.

It was quiet. Or as quiet as he could experience. He couldn’t hear anything past the disturbed chatter, and it wasn’t just the miraculous quiet that came when the rain stopped. He couldn’t hear anything from outside. No screech of passing trains. No chatter from the streets below. Just a steady low hum that permeated the air.

“Where are we?”

“Not sure. Let me check…”

With no small amount of effort, Cal cracked open his eyes, expecting to see his dingy apartment. Instead, he found himself in a dark room looking at clean panels and dim, blinking lights. For several seconds he just stared at them dumbly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“Bracca is built on three things. Rust, mud and misery. We get the rain for free.”

This was none of those things. Even the ever present damp was missing. Wanting to get to the bottom of how he ended up here, he tried to sit up.

“Shouldn’t have done that.”

Sharp, stabbing agony erupted in his side once more, every muscle protesting the movement. He collapsed back onto the bed, letting out a strangled cry as pain crashed into him. He breathed carefully, waiting for it to abate. Agonisingly slow, it resolved itself into a horrible grinding in his chest, twinned by a pounding headache. He groaned, his entire body aching, begging him not to move. It was incredibly tempting to stay in place and never move again.

Scraping together his wits, Cal tried to figure out where he was. Not Bracca, that was for sure. A spaceship was the most likely answer, the low hum coming from an active hyperdrive. Trying to sift through his memories only made his headache worse, so he resigned himself to wait until it surfaced on its own. Until it did, he tried to take stock of his apparently numerous injuries.

“You should see the other guy.”

Cal didn’t even know if there was another guy, but it certainly felt like he’d been in a fight. His head was killing him which he hoped was just because of the voices getting a little too intense and not a concussion. Aside from that, his ribs were causing the most worry. Sharp pain intensified with every breath, driving a knife into his left side. He strongly suspected he’d broken a few; he recognised the pain a little too well. As long as he didn’t move too much, the pain stayed at a dull ache, but as soon as he tried to breathe too deeply or shift to a more comfortable position it flared to bright agony. Never mind. With a bit of willpower and care about how he moved he could ignore the pain. It was how he’d coped the last few times.

With that in mind, he sat up very slowly, easing himself upright on aching arms, his shoulder throbbing. The thin blanket he’d gotten himself tangled in fell away, goosebumps rising on his bare skin where the cold air hit him. What he could see of his chest was painted in dark reds and purples, wrapping around to his back. Carefully he turned to look around the small, dimly lit room.

“Where the hell are we?”

“A ship, I think.” He couldn’t see much, the overhead lights still off, but the small space was lit by the faint lights of an engine at the back of the room. His clothes were hanging haphazardly over the railing next to it. It looked like he’d done it quickly, without thinking. There was no way it was going to have dried after last night…

Unexpected grief carved a hole in his chest as everything came flooding back. He’d been running for his life, fighting his way through a train. A black helmet. A bleeding lightsaber. Prauf, stepping up to defend him.

“You’ve gotta move on and live your life. Find your destiny!”

Prauf was dead. Cal had been found out and his only friend had paid the ultimate price trying to keep him safe. He’d escaped Bracca with the help of a pair of strangers by the skin of his teeth and he’d then proceeded to have the one of the worst meltdowns he’d had since crashing on Bracca right in front of them. They must think him insane.

“Steer clear of that one. Never know what he might do.”

“It’s too early for this,” he croaked, burying his head in his hands. Fresh pain unrelated to his physical injuries clawed at his chest. He just wanted to crawl back under the blanket and let oblivion take him. The only reason he didn’t was because his bladder was making itself known.

It took him a long time to build up the will to get moving. His head was filled with fluff, his thoughts syrupy and slow. His body resisted his need to move, the voices loud and largely nonsensical in his head, feeding his headache. He resisted the urge to cry; it would do him no good.

He eventually summoned the will to get up, swaying slightly as the floor tilted under his feet. He reached out to steady himself on the wall, closing his eyes against a wave of dizziness, breathing very carefully. Gravity worked against him, pulling him back down. He fought against it, determined to stay on his feet now he was there.

When he felt like he could trust his legs to carry him, he shuffled over to the railing where he’d slung his sopping wet clothes in the hope they might dry. He didn’t remember taking them off and had apparently deemed only his underwear dry enough to keep on. This wasn’t the first time his mind had been too packed with other people’s memories to make any of his own. If he concentrated he could recall fragments of what happened after his unexpected rescue, but that broke down once the conversation ended. He only had distorted flashes of the rest of the night as a migraine and exhaustion took hold, most of it disjointed and muddied.

With a sigh, he picked up his undershirt. Much to his dismay it hadn’t dried, still cold and damp to the touch. He strongly doubted the rest of his clothes had fared any better.

“You’ll catch your death wearing those.”

“Shut it,” he grumbled. Either he hid in here until he could get dressed again or sucked it up and put the damp uniform on. Sensory nightmare aside, it wasn’t much of a choice when he desperately needed to use the refresher. With a resigned sigh, he carefully pulled the damp shirt over his head, barely holding in the pained noises that wanted to escape him as his ribs ground together. His trousers weren’t any easier, requiring him to bend over and pull, the thick fabric clinging to his skin unpleasantly. The damp made him shiver, seeping into his bones.

“You’re leaving?”

“First ship tomorrow. I’m out of here for good. No more shifts for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t know. Somewhere warm and dry. I’m sick of being wet all the time.

Cal froze as the full implications of leaving Bracca suddenly hit him. He no longer had to work endless shifts in the pouring rain, never able to get warm, constantly exhausted. That didn’t mean whatever the future held was going to be easy, but surely it couldn’t be much worse. What was he even supposed to do now? The others had said something about the Jedi Order, but the details escaped him.

Once he was dressed he shuffled over to the door and hit the controls. Light poured into the engine room, momentarily blinding him. He could feel the pull of echoes from further into the ship, prickling at his skin, voices whispering at him to seek them out. He was fairly sure he could also hear voices in the real world, though it was hard to be certain.

Ignoring it for now, he sought out the fresher. He found it easily enough since it was the only door that wasn’t locked and relieved himself quickly. There was another echo in there somewhere, so he was careful about what he touched, managing to get the job done unscathed. There was a mirror above the sink he avoided looking at. He hadn’t seen his reflection properly in years and now was not the time to change that. His face probably looked as bad as his chest.

When he stepped back out he briefly considered hiding in the engine room. The smell of food wafting from the galley made his stomach cramp, nausea constricting his throat, making it hard to tell if he was hungry or not. At the very least he should probably let his rescuers know he was still alive and maybe figure out what they wanted with him.

Shuffling along on aching legs, he made his way to the common area. There were far more echoes out here than he remembered there being. He stumbled as they rammed into his weakened defences, flooding his mind with a discordant mess of emotions and noise. A horrible buzzing crept under his skin, sandpaper against his already raw nerves.

“Come here.”

“Listen to me!”

“Are you alright?” He hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes against the onslaught until he had to force them open. Both the woman and the Latero were sitting at the table looking at him with open concern. He wasn’t sure which of them had spoken.

He meant to use his words but ended up giving a barely intelligible grumble as several responses fought for dominance, crashing together. What was the question again?

He couldn’t help but squint as he looked around the room. It didn’t make the slightest difference against the assault on his mind, but the too-bright overhead lights were stabbing at his brain, adding fuel to his lingering headache.

Cal wasn’t sure he’d ever been surrounded by so many echoes in once place before. On Bracca most wrecks were gutted of possessions before they arrived, removing almost all personal items. In the Jedi Temple or on the Albedo Brave he’d had more than enough time to deal with them as he found them. This was… something else entirely, entire lives packed into one space small enough to cross in several paces. It was the exact opposite of his apartment, some kind of personal hell.

“Cal?” the woman said. Cere, his mind finally supplied. Her name was Cere, and the Latero was Greez. He blinked slowly at them, taking far more effort than usual for him to pull himself out of his own head. Had they been talking about something? She looked like she was expecting an answer.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re alright?” she said patiently.

“’m fine,” he mumbled, hoping he wasn’t slurring too badly.

“Liar.”

“Come see what I found!”

“Why don’t you grab some seat?” Greez said, getting up from the table. “You hungry?”

Cal gave another grumble that sounded vaguely in agreement. He still wasn’t sure if he could stomach anything right now, but he was also aware the last meal he ate was almost a full day ago, and that had consisted of the single ration bar he’d had for lunch.

Pushing off from the wall, he stumbled over to the table and took the empty seat at the end, carefully trying to find a comfortable position. “Where are we going again?” he asked, finally remembering how to use words.

“Bogano,” Cere said. “It’s an uncharted planet in the Outer Rim. No one but us knows it exists, not even the Empire.”

“First we gotta stop for fuel,” Greez said. “And I—"

“There’s a port not far from here.”

“—break down on a planet with—”

“We’re stranded. Great…”

“—and no sentient life.”

It took Cal far too long to process the snippets of what Greez was saying, the rest lost to the noise. Every thought was interrupted by several others as he tried form a response. “We’re stopping somewhere else first?” he managed after several long seconds.

Both of them were now watching him carefully, like he was a puzzle they couldn’t figure out. Cere was the one who spoke this time. “There’s a trade station—”

“Those people are looking for you.”

“—give us a chance to stock up on supplies.”

“They’ll arrest me if we get caught.”

Articulating his thoughts was an uphill struggle, overlapping concerns fighting for dominance. He had to concentrate to make sure he only mentioned the one he was actually worried about, and even then he was questioning himself as he asked, “What about the Empire?”

“We’ll be quick,” Cere said. “If an alert goes out we’ll be long gone before Imperial ships even arrive, though I doubt that will happen. We chose this one specifically for its… less than desirable reputation.”

Cal only nodded. It sounded like they’d been doing this a while and he doubted they wanted to get caught any more than he did after rescuing a Jedi from their clutches. “So, what’s on Bogano?”

“A Vault.”

“I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Shh. And what’s in the Vault?”

Cere watched him carefully for a few long seconds, trying to figure him out. Cal just sat there, trying to hold on to reality, his head too mangled for mind games. “My old master hid something there. I don’t know what exactly, but he was convinced the Order was going to fall before it did. He left some kind of contingency.”

“The Jedi are here! We’re saved!”

Cal struggled to follow the rest of what she was saying. Had he heard her right? She had a master, which meant… “You’re a Jedi?”

“I used to be. But not anymore,” she said, her eyes falling to a spot on the table.

“We’re all alone.”

“Did… did I know you?” he asked. He didn’t think they’d met before, but there was a chance they might have crossed paths. He was so desperate for some sense of belonging he would take anything, no matter how tenuous.

“No,” she said sympathetically. “I used to be a seeker and spent much of my time away from the temple.”

“It’s just one bad thing after another.”

Cal nodded, trying not to let disappointment swallow him. It wasn’t her fault, not really, so he tried to keep a lid on his emotions.

“I’m hoping that whatever is in the Vault will help us rebuild the Order,” she continued. “It might be artifacts or texts, I honestly don’t know. But I’ll take what we can get. Preserving our history is just as important as creating a future in times like these.”

“I can help with that.”

“No,” he whimpered, burying his face in his hands. Historical preservation was something he’d discussed with Master Tapal when the subject of life after the war arose. He hadn’t been particularly keen on it even before the voices, but now the thought of it terrified him. He couldn’t do it. Not when the last time he was made to use his ability repeatedly it broke his mind.

“Do not speak a word of this. She can’t know.”

For once, Cal was in agreement. Cere struck him like the kind of person who wouldn’t let something go once she decided to pursue it. Who else would run the risk of tracking down a Jedi and snatch them from the Empire’s clutches? If she found out he was psychometric she would surely make him relive echoes for the sake of preservation.

“No?” she said, bringing him back to the present. Lacking the ability to come up with even a half-arsed excuse, he kept his head down and groaned again, hoping he could just play it off. Cere didn’t press him for an answer thankfully, leaving him to his misery.

“Where do I fit into all this?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he lifted his head. Good question. “What do you need me for?”

“We’ll talk more about that later,” she said, taking a sip of her caf. Cal tried to scowl at her, but it ended up more like disoriented squinting. He wasn’t fond of being left in the dark, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to argue right now. At least she’d confirmed the purpose of his rescue. That would do for now.

“Here, eat up,” Greez said, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and not the polystarch kind either by the look of it. For a few seconds, Cal just stared blankly at the food. Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d seen food that hadn’t come from a packet, let alone eaten any. It smelled amazing but the idea of actually putting it in his mouth churned his stomach.

“What, you don’t like eggs?” Greez asked when Cal didn’t move.

“No, it’s just…” Just what? What could he say that wouldn’t make them pity him? “It’s been a while,” he said quietly.

“A while since what?” Greez asked. Cere nudged him with her elbow, giving him a sharp look. “What?” he yelped.

Much to Cal’s dismay the fork he’d been given carried an echo. Scraping together what little he could in terms of a mental barrier, he picked it up and hoped it wasn’t a strong one. Unexpected fondness and familiarity washed over him, laughter ringing in the air. It was too vague for him to gain any details from it, but the emotions were intense enough that he almost started crying like a youngling. He had become so jaded by echoes of fear, pain and death; he had forgotten nice ones existed too.

If either Cere or Greez noticed he’d momentarily frozen and was fighting back tears, neither mentioned it. He quickly scooped some of the eggs onto his fork as the echo released its hold on him and took a bite. It was undoubtedly the best thing he’d ever eaten. It actually tasted of something, the light seasoning an explosion of flavour in comparison to the bland food he’d had on Bracca. He hadn’t realised just how hungry he was until he swallowed.

Cal tried to eat slowly and enjoy the food, but despite his best efforts it was gone within a matter of minutes. Cere didn’t stick around, having more important things to do than watch Cal eat. That left him alone with Greez who was tidying around the galley, his back turned. “Thanks for the food,” Cal said once he’d finished, his stomach pleasantly full for the first time he could remember.

Cal didn’t miss the way Greez jumped. “Oh, yeah sure, no problem,” he said, giving a nervous laugh before turning back to put a couple of dishes away. An awkward silence hung in the air between them. Cal didn’t know if he should leave or not, but he could tell his mere presence was making Greez uncomfortable.

“They don’t trust us, and we can’t trust them.”

“We should just go.”

They made a good point. Greez clearly didn’t want to be around Cal, and while the Latero might have helped rescue him, Cal still wasn’t sure of their intentions. Was there some ulterior motive he’d missed or forgotten? He was about to head back to the engine room to lie down when Greez finally turned to face him. “So, uh, Cal,” Greez began nervously, “you’re not going to start dismantling the Mantis, are you?”

Cal couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. If he was, it was a piss poor attempt at humour. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, you’re a scrapper right?”

“I’m not about to start tearing apart a ship that I’m relying on to keep me alive,” he said coldly.

“Sorry, it’s just, well I mean last night you were sort of, y’know…” he said with another nervous laugh, avoiding saying anything incriminating. Cal knew fine well what he really meant. He thought Cal was unstable. Dangerous. He wasn’t the first to think so, but Cal wasn’t just going to sit there and take it. Not when he was stuck with these people for the foreseeable. If they wanted him on board then fine, but he wasn’t about to let them walk all over him.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snapped, ignoring the sudden headrush and spike of pain in his chest as he stood and all but fled the room before Greez could say anything else. He shut the door to the engine room behind him, wishing there was a lock.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. His body begged him to sit back down, but he was flooded with anxiety, unable to keep still, his instincts telling him to run.

“Can’t trust anyone.”

“They’re easy to find if you know where to look.”

“Out to get me. Can’t let her win.”

“Just put you hand here, like this. See?”

“Who does he think he is.”

“Would you shut up!” he snapped, pacing the small room. He shook his hands out in an attempt to dispel the nervous energy building inside of him. They really weren’t helping, still begging him to seek out the echoes filling the ship. Their incessant tugging in the back of his mind was stronger now that he’d woken up a little more, some of the fog clearing from his head.

Why was he so bothered by Greez? This was hardly the first time someone had said something along the same lines. It had dogged him the entire time he’d been working with the guild, but he couldn’t afford to let it get to him.

“The boy’s cursed. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

He forced himself to stop and take a few measured breaths, trying to squash down the rising panic. He was trapped here. He didn’t know these people. They could very easily be lying to him about wanting to rebuild the Order. They clearly weren’t fond of the Empire, but that didn’t make them allies. There were still plenty of other groups out there who would like a Jedi in their clutches for one reason or another.

“You’ve got a target painted on your back.”

“No shit,” he grumbled. Giving in to his body’s demands for rest, he sat on the bed and picked up his headphones from where they’d been left. Sticking the broken headset on, he turned up the volume as high as it would go, the Agasar blasting in his left ear in the hope that it would be enough to buy him a small amount of calm.

Chapter Text

All things considered, Cal thought he was coping remarkably well. He’d been hiding in the engine room for the past two hours, music near deafening. He concentrated on the lyrics, doing what he could to block out the voices. It was the only thing that came close to coping. When everything got too much he’d shut out the world and try not to lose himself to the noise. It was harder with only half of his headphones functioning, but it was working.

At least until the battery ran out.

“No, damn it,” he hissed, pulling them off when the music started to cut out.

“No such luck.”

“Don’t need to rub it in.” He didn’t have anything on him to charge them, left behind along with everything else. With great reluctance, he got up and searched around the small room for somewhere he could charge them. It was the engine room after all; there had to be a usable power supply somewhere. After having no luck with the panels mounted in the walls, he turned to the workbench at the back of the room. He’d hoped to avoid it as he could feel the pull of an echo there, but it seemed the most likely place for an outlet.

“Look what I found!”

The echo wasn’t strong, which was just as well or else he’d never get any sleep. It still nagged at the back of his mind, static trapped under his skin. If he was going to join this crew on their mission then he’d either have to get used to the horrid sensation of having his mind pulled in multiple directions, or he’d just have to suck it up and do as the voices told him. “Let’s get it over with then,” he sighed, laying his hand on the surface.

Frustration bubbled up along with a displaced burning sensation. It didn’t last long, much to his relief, though the pain was slow to fade. Usually, he could tell where a source of pain came from, but this somehow originated outside of himself. He looked down at his hands, knowing he’d just burnt his fingers, and panicked when he only saw two hands. It took him a second before remembering that was how many he was supposed to have.

Greez has four arms. That would explain the unfamiliar sensation of burning a finger he didn’t have. He shook his hands out, trying to dispel the weird sensation. With the echo gone, the workbench no longer posed any threat, so he resumed his search, finding a charging port near the back of the bench.

While he was here, he may as well see if his headphones could be fixed, so before he set them up to charge, he lay them on the bench. His tools had survived Bracca unscathed, safely tucked away in his belt, so prying open the battered casing was an easy enough task.

Inside was a mess. Small chunks of metal fell out, rolling across the worktop. Bits of frayed wire stuck out from where he’d tried to fix it several months ago, the repair job now ruined. Taking a closer look, Cal could see the speaker was entirely disconnected from the power supply, rattling around freely in the casing. He would need to rewire it entirely, but since he didn’t have the right kind of tools or materials he suspected it might just be easier and cheaper to buy a replacement pair. Not that he had any credits.

With a sigh, he did his best to put the casing back on to hide the mess, securing it with a bit of tape when the warped metal refused to click back into place. Half of it still worked, even if he was stuck with only the one music chip. Not for the first time, he wished he could have at least gotten back to his flat to grab his things before having to flee.

“It’s not fair.”

“Life ain’t fair. Get used to it.”

Cal sighed. He was faced with a choice while his headphones charged. Continue to isolate himself and slowly succumb to the downward spiral of taunts and insults or leave and face the barrage of echoes in the common area.

“Coward.”

Maybe he could figure out what exactly his rescuers needed him for. They hadn’t saved him out of the goodness of their hearts after all. They’d taken a significant risk so they must be expecting a pretty big payoff. It made sense they’d want a Jedi to help rebuild the Order, but surely they hadn’t been searching for a failed Padawan like Cal. He shouldn’t have even been a Padawan when the Order fell, so much younger than his peers. Did they even have a use for him? What could he possibly do for them? He couldn’t even use the Force properly.

Surely they didn’t need him as a teacher. Or maybe they did and just hadn’t broken the news to him yet that actually he was no good. Maybe they were just going to dump him on this Bogano planet and leave him there stranded. From what they’d said earlier, it sounded like the place was deserted aside from this mysterious Vault. Somehow the idea of being left behind by these strangers was worse than trying to make it on his own.

“If you don’t pull your weight, I’ll leave you out in the wastelands.”

“No! I’ll be good. I promise!”

Cal shook his head with a groan. He needed to do something, or the spiral would only get worse. Mind made up; he headed out to the common area where he was once more assaulted by a wall of noise before he even rounded the corner. The echoes tore at the edges of his mind, making his skin crawl.

“Over here!”

Much to his relief it didn’t seem like anyone was around, both the galley and the lounge deserted. The voices were just as insistent as before, but he was at least able to handle the noise better this time. His head wasn’t such a mess as it had been when he’d woken up, some of the fluff having cleared. Not all of it, but enough that he didn’t immediately go crawling back to the engine room.

It was hard to think in here, let alone pretend he was some semblance of normal. They already knew he was strange, it was too late for him to pretend otherwise, but maybe he could do some damage control and make them forget about it. The only thing worse than being useless was being perceived as a danger, a battle he’d already lost with Greez. If he wanted them to keep him around, he’d have to act like there was nothing wrong with him. And in order to do that, he needed to be able to keep his head as clear as possible.

He glanced through to the cockpit, double checking that no one else was around. There was no sign of either of them, hopefully in their cabins. Well, since no one was around he might as well take the opportunity to clear some of the echoes out. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant task by any stretch of the imagination, but it was necessary. One of the few upsides of psychometry was that once an echo had been witnessed it ceased demanding his attention, though it did mean more often than not it took up residence in his head instead. Still, what was a few more voices among the hundreds.

The galley was the worst area by far. Every shelf, drawer and cabinet was filled with echoes, though most were faint enough that he was having trouble figuring out which objects held them. Most of what he found was absolutely fine and carried nothing, but as he brushed his fingers over a neat row of mugs a muted, muddled flood of joy, excitement, anxiety washed through him.

What struck him most as he kept going was the lack of any real negative emotions. There was no pain or rage or fear. It was strange, to have so many echoes in such a small area but none of them leaving him a sobbing mess on the floor. The negative ones were there, but it was nothing so terrible that Cal couldn’t just shrug it off. From a plate he’d relived someone’s first heartbreak, but even that crushing despair seemed trivial compared to the horrors he’d lived through himself. It didn’t make it any less unpleasant, however, just easier to move on from.

He eventually came to the cutlery drawer at the end of the counter. With so many small things inside all piled on top of each other he gave up trying to pick out individual items and just stuck his hand inside, rummaging around and making a racket. While these too were dull echoes, they brought an onslaught of emotions so jumbled together he couldn’t single any one out from another.

It wasn’t often that Cal had experienced more than one echo at once, but he was starting to see why it should be avoided. The stacked memories sent him reeling, his balance knocked off kilter as his vision began to swim. He had to cling on to the counter, breathing as deeply as he dared with his aching ribs to fight off nausea as he waited for reality to right itself.

“Right, not doing that again,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head to clear the fog.

“Not doing what again?”

“What do you think,” he said flatly. With a sigh, he pushed off the counter and stood up straight, only to jump out of his skin at the sudden appearance of Greez. Sharp pain stabbed through his side, forcing him to barely suppress a groan. Greez was unimpressed, an eyebrow raised at his odd behaviour. Cal hadn’t heard him coming in, but then he supposed he wouldn’t through the echoes rampaging through his mind.

“All I’ve heard in my cabin for the last five minutes is you apparently, banging and crashing around like a rancor in a glass shop.”

“I was, uh, looking for something,” Cal said lamely, mentally kicking himself.

“Well unless it’s a fork you’re after, that’s the wrong place.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry,” he said as he pushed the drawer closed.

Greez stared at him a moment longer and Cal wished he could disappear. This was exactly what he didn’t want, to give the pilot another reason to mistrust him. Greez must have come to some kind of conclusion as he shook his head and turned to head to the cockpit. “Werido,” he muttered under his breath as he went.

Cal didn’t comment since it was at least a little justified this time. The drawer had been the last place in the galley he’d needed to sift through. Either it was good timing that he was done now or directly due to sticking his hand in a pile of echoey spoons, but his headache from earlier was beginning to return. The voices had let up a little on trying to get him to look at more, but there were still plenty lying around the place. In the interest of trying to spare himself from another migraine, he could deal with them another time.

Returning to the engine room to sit in bored silence wasn’t a particularly appealing idea so instead he headed down the steps to the sofa. On the floor, leaning against the table sat an unfamiliar stringed instrument. There was another echo there, stronger than the ones he’d encountered so far, coming to prominence now the background noise had been lowered. “Go on,” the voices whispered, wrapping around his mind, sinking their claws in. He held his hand out above the instrument, trying to gauge the intensity of it. It lapped at the edges of his consciousness, a sense of loss so deep it cut, dragging him in.

Despite knowing he shouldn’t touch it, the voices were hard to resist. He’d already gotten too close. He didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want the grief of another when his own was still so raw, but he was helpless to pull his hand away. All he could do was stay perfectly still, locked in place, torn between his want to get away and the voices’ need for him to bear witness.

He lost the fight in the end. He always did. Resistance was ultimately futile. He gave in and reached out. The name hallikset bubbled to the forefront of his mind before the grief flooded in. There were no voices, but it was far from quiet. An eerie, mournful song filled his head, each note singing despair and loss into the galaxy.

It didn’t last long but left him disoriented. He sat heavily on the sofa, afraid his legs might give out from under him. His vision was blurry again. He rubbed at his eyes, only for his hand to come away wet. Oh, he was crying. He wiped his eyes on his still damp sleeve, achieving little more than making the rest of his face damp. He sniffed and took as deep a breath as he could manage. He was surely going to pay for this later.

The song still played in his head, caught in a loop. He glanced at the hallikset, still leaning against the caf table. He could play it. While the echo still circled his mind, he had the abilities of whoever had left them. He reached over and picked it up by the neck, his fingers effortlessly finding the correct positions as he settled the instrument in his lap as though he’d been playing his entire life.

He closed his eyes, playing in sync with the memory, letting it guide him. As the melody washed over him, the overwhelming urge to cry only strengthened, his own grief mixing with the sorrow contained within the echo until his chest ached. Tears ran freely down his face, dripping onto the polished wood beneath his hands.

All too soon the memory faded away, and with it his ability to keep playing. It was only a borrowed skill after all. Fleeting. Coming back to himself fully, he set the hallikset back down where he’d found it, scrubbing at his face with his free hand. Perhaps it was a mercy that he never carried songs in his head, only voices. With how many there were they all blended into a mass of noise most of the time. He hardly ever noticed when a new one took up residence. He didn’t know what he’d do if he was stuck with that haunting melody playing in his head for the rest of eternity.

The hallikset belonged to Cere he realised somewhat belatedly. The echo wasn’t detailed enough to tell him why she had written that song, but he felt that knowledge would be an invasion of privacy. He’d already seen too much and hadn’t even intended to pick up the instrument and play in the first place.

He should steer clear of more echoes today. That one was stronger than he’d initially anticipated and he was likely already heading back into the brain fog of that morning. Another would probably override him or maybe even make him seize if he was really unlucky.

For a while he just sat there, letting tears trail down his cheeks in silence as his thoughts drifted, all his grief brought right up to the surface. Prauf was gone. He knew this, but it hadn’t fully sunk in yet what that really meant. He couldn’t bear to face it, the wound still far too raw. He would do what he’d always done and shove it way down deep inside himself. It was what he’d done when Master Tapal had died and he’d still not really opened that up, even five years later.

“Cal?” Cere said, startling him from his thoughts. He hastily wiped his face on his sleeve, trying to pretend he hadn’t been crying. “How are you holding up?”

Cal gave a hasty nod, picking at his nails as a distraction. “I’m okay,” he mumbled.

“You don’t look it,” she said softly. Cal couldn’t summon the energy to argue. They both knew he wasn’t alright, and it would be a waste of breath trying to convince her otherwise when she’d already caught him.

She hovered at the top of steps leading from the galley. Cal wasn’t sure whether she was going to walk away or sit down. She sighed softly after a moment, having made up her mind. “This must be a lot for you,” she said, taking a seat beside him.

“You could say that,” he croaked.

“So, I’ll ask again. How are you really?”

“My friend was killed,” he said after a moment, “right in front of me by that Inquisitor. His name is… was Prauf. He took me in not long after I landed on Bracca. I’d be dead several times over if it weren’t for him.”

“I’m sorry you lost him like that,” she said, a slight waver to her own voice.

Cal could only nod, the lump in his throat choking. He couldn’t think about it, not when doing so would have him bursting into tears all over again. He had to shove it down along with the rest of his grief. One day it would catch up to him and he would have to face it, but he’d lasted five years. What was one more day?

“What exactly is it that you need me for?” he asked, pulling himself together to finally look at her.

Cere did not seem surprised. “We need a Jedi for our plan to succeed,” she said, just as vague as before.

“And you think I can help?” he asked sceptically.

“Yes. We need someone strong in the Force to open the way.”

Cal’s heart sank. “Sorry to let you down, but I can’t use the Force. Not properly. Not anymore,” he said, going back to picking at his nails to avoid seeing the disappointment on her face.

“I saw you fighting on the train,” she said. “You wouldn’t have survived that without some kind of connection.”

“She’s got you there.”

“After the Purge, when…”

“Don’t go there.”

“Danger.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“Look, something happened to me,” he huffed, trying to get past the voices. “My connection to the Force is broken.”

“Do you think it’s something that can be worked on? Because if it is, this is my offer to help you,” she said patiently. Cal watched her from the corner of his eye. She did seem genuinely concerned about him, though that might just be because he was the key to her mission.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he shrugged, ignoring how it made his strained shoulder ache. “I haven’t tried to meditate in years. The last time I did, I lost control it was like I was in that moment and I—”

“Pathetic.”

“Useless.”

“You survived Cal,” she said, cutting through the haze to bring him back from the brink of panic. “And you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

Tears pricked his eyes again. He really didn’t want to start crying in front of Cere. Not when her words were the cause this time. He swallowed the lump in his throat and gave a determined nod. Maybe she could help him, maybe she couldn’t. But it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to keep living like this, other people’s thoughts rammed into his head. Strengthening his connection to the Force would be a step in the right direction to learning control, like Master Tapal had always said.

She put her hand on his shoulder, probably in an attempt to comfort him. What she instead did was frown. “Why is your shirt damp?” she asked, removing her hand to wipe it on her jacket.

“Because of the rain?” he said. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else to wear while I wait for it to dry.”

Cere gave a dissatisfied hum. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said cryptically before heading back up the steps. Cal watched her leave before letting out a heavy sigh, burying his head in his hands. They had a use for him after all. That was more of a relief than he’d expected it would be. They needed him on the condition that he was able to repair his connection to the Force. He could do that. He didn’t have any other choice.

“He’s a psycho, you know that right?”

“She doesn’t know that,” he mumbled into his hands.

“Doesn’t know what?” Cere said as she came back down the steps.

Cal jumped, wincing as he pulled his ribs and shoulder. If Cere noticed, she kept it to herself. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

“Well now she knows.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but gave a slow nod. “Okay, well, I don’t know how well these will fit you, but I pulled them from Greez’s box of lost and found,” she said, handing over a bundle of clothes.

Much to his dismay, the telltale static of an echo prickled at his skin from something in the bundle. Kriff, he was going to crash hard at this rate. There was no avoiding this though. He couldn’t not take the clothes from her. Not when he wanted nothing more than to be rid of his uncomfortable uniform. Trying not to outwardly react, he took the bundle from her. Sorrow punched him in the gut, constricting his chest. It wasn’t dissimilar from the grief he’d picked up from the hallikset. He coughed to try to cover up the way his breath stuttered only for pain to stab into his side. He couldn’t quite keep the grimace off his face. Cere was watching him carefully through the performance, like he was a bug caught under a glass.

Before she could comment, Greez came wandering back through, either oblivious or wilfully ignoring the tension hanging in the air. “Oh, good, you’re both here. Are either of you hungry? I was thinking about making some lunch.”

Cal didn’t trust himself to speak, fearing he might blurt out something incriminating. “That would be great, Greez,” Cere said. “Do you need any help?”

“Absolutely not. The last time I let you cook you almost set the whole ship on fire.”

“That was one time,” she said, exasperated in the way that meant they’d probably had this argument several times over. She followed him up the steps, giving Cal some space.

“That’s all it takes Cere!” Greez said, wagging a finger at her. He went on but Cal stopped paying attention, putting the clothes on the sofa beside him and burying his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to tune out the voices that were threatening to drown him again. It was about as close to meditation as he could get, but it was far from the real thing. He didn’t dare reach out to the Force, too afraid it would be like the last time he tried, not long after landing on Bracca, ending violently. He would have to get used to it again if he didn’t want to be left behind, but this was neither the time nor place to start.

He’d only tried calling upon it a handful of times shortly after the purge but was met with pain and resistance every time until eventually he just stopped, deciding it was a lost cause and he was irrevocably broken. The only thing that remained was his psychometry; the one thing he wished with every fibre of his being he didn’t have.

If anything, it had only gotten worse. For several months he was unable to shield himself from them like he used to be able to, having to entirely relearn how to work through the lesser echoes without letting them affect him. Every little thing he touched or picked up had carried the risk of him spacing out, and on Bracca that was a dangerous game to play. There wasn’t the time to stop and analyse an echo beforehand, he just had to get on with it.

That had been a hard lesson to learn. Not only did he have to adjust to working long, hard shifts taking apart ships, but he also had to relearn how his own mind worked on the fly. For a while the echoes he found weren’t too bad, but as the Empire began to assert itself, the guild shifted its focus to scrapping old Republic ships. Venators mostly, and with them came the echoes of war.

A hand on his arm brought him back to the present. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, squinting against the light that was now stabbing into his brain to see Cere standing at his side. “Lunch is ready,” she said. He hummed his acknowledgement but stayed where he was for a moment longer. He wasn’t really hungry after eating real food at breakfast, and he wasn’t up to forcing himself to eat just for appearances. He should probably go lay down for a while, wait out the worst of the second round of migraines.

“Wouldn’t be a problem if you just tried harder.”

He grabbed the clothes Cere had given him and summoned the energy to stand. He almost tripped on the steps leading up to the galley, his balance thrown off. He spared a glance at the table, set up with three bowls of steaming soup. It smelled amazing, but the mere idea of eating made him nauseous.

“Something wrong with it, kid?” Greez asked when Cal didn’t join them.

“No, I…,” he started, now sure yet which excuse he was going for.

“Can’t rely on him for anything.”

“I’m not feeling great,” was what he settled on, vague enough he could hopefully evade any other questions.

“Oh,” Greez said, something complicated passing over his face. “You’re not ill are you?” Cal gingerly shook his head. “Well, I can stick this in the conservator and you can have it later if you want. Are you gonna want dinner?”

“Probably not,” he said apologetically.

“Don’t sweat it kid,” he said, waving his hands at him, as he got up to deal with Cal’s untouched bowl. Cal was about to leave but Greez stopped him before he could event take a step. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry about what I said this morning. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled automatically before he could fully engage his brain. It wasn’t fine, and he hardly wanted Greez or Cere to give him a hard time over something he couldn’t control. But he was more afraid of challenging them. He didn’t know them, didn’t know what limits they had. If he of all people survived the Purge, then there must be others out there somewhere. Real Jedi with an actual connection to the Force.

“Why don’t you take a shower,” Greez suggested. “Don’t worry about water, we’ll be filling up at the station anyway. There’s towels in the cupboard and there’s a launderer if you want to wash your clothes. Should take half an hour. You look like you crawled out of cesspit.”

“Thanks,” Cal said coldly, disappearing down the hallway. He could hear Cere hiss something at Greez but didn’t stick around to find out what. He headed back to the engine room first to collect the rest of his damp clothes, making sure he emptied the pockets of their various tools and assorted bits of scrap. It wasn’t often he bothered to do laundry between the endless shifts and constant rain and grime, but since this was now the only set of clothes he owned, he’d have to take better care of them.

He headed to the fresher, making sure the door was locked behind him. It was a small space, but there was enough room that he could move around freely. He stuck the clothes he was carrying in the launderer before beginning the painful process of taking the ones he was wearing off. His shirt stuck to him, making the task of raising his arms and pulling that much harder. His trousers were similarly problematic, forcing him to bend over and pull to get them off, sending shocks of pain through his chest at the slightest tug.

Eventually he was standing naked in the fresher, everything stuffed in the launderer and running. It was difficult to avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror when he was standing right in front of it. It was the first time he’d seen himself properly in a very long time. On Bracca he’d made do with murky reflections in small bits of dirty glass. This one was large enough that he could easily see his entire upper half.

“I know him. I think…”

A face both foreign and familiar stared back at him. Gone was the child sent to war far too young, replaced by a haunted teenager forced to live with the horrors left behind. His once smooth skin was marred by countless scars, the most notable being the wide burn along his neck, dark and rough. The rest of his face hadn’t fared much better, a collection of knotted pink lines from the scrapyards.

He had dark circles under his eyes, a permanent fixture thanks to the relentless schedule he had to maintain to keep a roof over his head and food in his stomach. Not that it did him much good. His cheeks were sunken, his ribs visible under lean muscle built by years of hard physical labour. Ration bars may be nutritionally complete, and polystarch might dull the sharp edge of hunger, but neither were enough to truly sustain a person, not in the small amounts he could afford it.

The entire left side of his chest and back was painted in deep, dark purples and reds. When he ran his fingers over his ribs he could feel two slight bumps where they’d broken. They weren’t badly displaced, but he doubted they’d heal smoothly.

“Not the first time. Probably not the last.”

The rest of him hadn’t fared much better, a smattering of bruises littering his pale skin. He didn’t seem to have picked up anything more serious than what he was already aware of at least, no hidden cuts or blaster burns buried under the pain of broken bones and a migraine.

Satisfied he wasn’t about to regret covering himself in soap, he turned to the shower. The echo he’d came across earlier just had to be in the shower itself, because that was just his luck.

“What’s one more?”

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. He reached out to the switch where the echo lay, turning the water on. Pressure pulsed in his head, his vision swimming as the echo slammed into him. He must have really overdone it because he couldn’t pick out what he was experiencing before it vanished, leaving him horribly disoriented and leaning against the wall for support.

Once the water was up to temperature he stepped in. The hot water ran down his back, the sensation both soothing and grounding. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually cleaned himself with warm water, making do with the tepid communal showers.

For a long time Cal just stood there, immersed in the hot water washing away what felt like years of mud, oil and grime. He didn’t realise he was crying again until he took in a shuddering breath, his ribs aching. Now he’d started he couldn’t stop. The others wouldn’t be able to hear him in here and he didn’t have to worry about anyone coming in. Here he could cry in peace, so that’s what he did.

Chapter Text

Cal’s head hadn’t stopped hurting since escaping Bracca. The ship was so full of echoes he would never be able to get rid of them all. Not that he really wanted to. Most of them clung to items belonging to Cere and Greez, and aside from the hallikset he had no intention of snooping on their private lives. Unfortunately, that meant the common areas were difficult to be in for More than a few minutes at a time. The voices clawed at him, their constant assault scrambling his brain, leaving him vulnerable to the stronger echoes. They could punch right through his feeble mental defences to scream at him whenever he got too close and he wasn’t too fond of the gaps in his memory they caused when his brain short-circuited.

It wasn’t doing him any favours in getting Greez to relax around him when he had to keep asking him to repeat himself. Even then, Cal only caught about half of what was being said. He had a feeling he’d misunderstood a conversation a few times now thanks to the strange reactions he got from both of them. Cere at least tried to be subtle about it, but after five years of dealing with scrappers treating him like something to be wary of, he’d gotten good at reading expressions.

He felt an unexpected pang of longing for his apartment. It had been his safe space from echoes and contained his scant but precious belongings. He could never go back there, and everything within was probably already cleared out and sold. By no means did he ever want to return to Bracca, but he’d lived in that cramped space for almost three years, and he’d grown to rely on the quiet it offered to get him through the days.

For lack of any other way to cope, he’d resigned himself to hiding in the engine room and blasting music through his headphones. He’d never been good at sitting idle, even before being thrown into Bracca’s relentless cycle of work, so he kept himself occupied by mentally trying to deconstruct the Mantis. He’d never admit it to Greez; the Latero already didn’t trust him further than he could throw him. Which probably wasn’t very far considering how short he was.

Five years of tearing apart ships gave him a pretty good idea of the prices various parts sold for, though he was assuming he would be taking the ship apart in a similar condition to the rest of the ships that arrived in the scrapyards. He was half way though deconstructing the cockpit when a knock at the door startled him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said as he gingerly sat up, mindful of his aching ribs.

The door slid open, Cere standing at the threshold. “We’re coming in to land at the station. Greez is going to take care of the Mantis. While he does that, we are going to get supplies, so come on.”

“I’ll leave you here if you don’t behave.”

“No please don’t,” he blurted out, panic gripping his heart. Cere narrowed her eyes at him in that way that meant he was being strange again. She hadn’t directly tried to question him about his mental state, but it was getting harder to pretend like he was fine when he kept slipping up like that. Damn it, she hadn’t said anything had she. That was why she was looking at him like that.

“I, uh, I mean…”

“I won’t make you come,” she said, giving him an out. “But if you’re joining us then you’re going to need more than one set of clothes and those spares,” she said, pointing to the clothes she’d given him; a shirt that was at least two sized too big and loose trousers that came half way up his calves. Despite the poor fit, the material was softer and lighter than his uniform, so he preferred to lounge around in them. “And clearly I’m not very good at finding things in your size. So, unless you want to run the risk of me buying you things you can’t wear, you’d better come with me.”

This was a bad idea. Cal was already envisioning the crowd, people pressed together in narrow passages, each of them carrying echoes. He’d faced worse, but usually he’d had time to get away from the constant assault. This time he was starting with his defences already lowered almost to the point of non-existence. She was right though. He couldn’t exactly go wandering around the galaxy in a uniform that announced he belonged to the scrapper guild. Even if no one knew he was a Jedi, the reward for turning in errant guild workers was often enough on its own.

“It’s a dangerous game. You’ve got to play your cards right.”

“Is it safe?” he asked, hoping to put his mind at ease. While he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to buy some clothes that might actually fit, he was almost tempted to risk leaving it in Cere’s hands.

“I’ve been monitoring communications for the past half hour. No one has mentioned anything about a Jedi on the run. They’re not looking for us out here.”

“Okay,” he said, mostly to himself. Maybe it would be alright. Echoes in crowds tended to be low level ones anyway. He’ll be fine. “Okay,” he repeated to Cere with a little false confidence.

“Good,” she smiled. “We’ll be reverting to realspace shortly. Landing won’t take long.” With that she disappeared back down the hallway, the door closing behind her. Cal got up and put his uniform on since it wasn’t like he could step outside in what he was wearing. He pulled his poncho over his head, dry for the first time since Cal first put it on. Despite the fact that it was made in guild colours, it didn’t actually have the scrapper badge on it so it could hide the patch on his sleeve. Just because there was no news about a Jedi on the run didn’t mean people might not notice a scrapper wandering around so far from Bracca.

He contemplated taking his lightsaber but ultimately decided on leaving it behind. If it came to a fight, it would only cause more problems than it could solve. He’d be better off legging it back to the Mantis and hope he wasn’t left behind at the first sign of trouble.

“They’re not coming back. What are we going to do?”

On second thought, maybe he should take it. Just in case. He didn’t put his climbing harness on since he could do without the extra exertion on his ribs, so lacking his usual hiding place for it, he clipped it to his belt and tucked it inside his trouser leg the hilt cold against his skin.

With his headphones hanging around his neck, he made his way out to the lounge. He made it as far as the galley before the ship lurched and the brilliant blue of hyperspace gave way to inky black. He hadn’t seen the stars so clearly since… well, before everything went wrong.

“It never gets old.”

Cal hummed in agreement, going over to the viewport to stare out at the starfield. Ahead he could see the station, a massive circular structure with a flat top and three smaller sections branching off radially. It could easily house a small city.

“Ready to go?” He tore his gaze away to find Cere grabbing a couple of things from the caf table.

“I think so,” he said, hoping she had actually asked the question. It wasn’t like he had much to bring with him to begin with. He was wearing most of it.

The ship touched down a couple of minutes later, rocking gently as Greez brought them down. “Oh, Cal,” Greez said as he came out of the cockpit. “I wanted to ask if there was any food you’d like us to get for you.”

Cal only shrugged.

“Not any snacks or anything?” Cal shook his head. “Come on, work with me here. You barely eat anything as it is. There must be something you like?”

“I don’t know Greez. All I’ve eaten for the last five years is ration bars, polystarch and grainmush.”

Greez spluttered, not believing what he was hearing. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Grainmush?” he said when he regained the ability to speak. “You actually ate that slop?”

“Well… yeah. It was all I could afford. It wasn’t too bad if you ate it fast enough.”

“I’m buying you snacks, and you are going to eat them,” he said, pulling out a list and scribbling on it as he headed down the ramp. “Grainmush, kriff,” he muttered as he disappeared.

“Don’t mind him,” Cere said, holding out a pouch. “Here.”

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her. It was unexpectedly heavy, jingling as it settled in his palm.

“Credits. About sixty or so. Should be enough for a few things. Feel free to spend as much as you need.”

“Is this a test?”

He looked at her expectantly, but she was already turning to head down the ramp. Right, he had to ask the question out loud. “Why are you giving me this?” he asked, trailing after her as she led the way into the station.

“There’s a lot of supplies I need to get and I’m sure you don’t need me to go with you,” she said, keeping her pace even.

“This is where we part ways.”

Was she trying to get rid of him? But then why would she give him so much money? It didn’t make sense. He continued to follow her, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. He was so distracted he didn’t realise the level of real noise was getting louder until they emerged from the access tunnel and joined the main market area.

“You should be able to find what you need on the level above. Meet me back here in an hour.”

“What if I’m late?” he asked, anxiety churning in his gut.

“I’ll wait,” she said calmly. He wanted to believe her; he really did.

“You’re no use to us.”

“One hour,” he repeated. With a nod, Cere stepped into the crowd, following it to wherever it was she needed to go.

A multitude of echoes crawled under his skin from the people all around him, the voices in his head agitating. He stuck his headphones on and turned the volume up. Having to listen to the same handful of songs for days on end was becoming grating, but it was better than the alternative where he had to listen to the voices instead.

He spotted a sign for a turbolift, pointing further into the station. With a deep breath to psych himself up, he stepped into the mass of people. As he did on Bracca, he tried to keep his hands under his poncho, weaving between the bodies as he tried to reach his destination.

“Best to just get on with it.”

“There’s loads! Just look around!”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Someone bumped into his shoulder, knocking him off-balance. He didn’t even have a change to regain his balance before awareness was ripped away.

“You won’t find him, you know.”

“I’ve still got to try.” Kriff, where was her torch. She couldn’t go back out there without it.

“Would you just stop,” he said, moving to block her path.

“Move.”

“Face it. He’s gone. I’m sorry, but he’s not coming back.”

The echo melted away, leaving gunky residue in Cal’s head. Wait, why was he on the floor? Oh, right, he’d been knocked over. His broken ribs throbbed dully, reminding him of the impact. The horrendous stabbing pain returned with a vengeance as he stood up, leaving him braced against the wall as he waited for his vision to stop swimming.

“I can do it.”

“Sure you can…”

“Shut up,” he groaned, pushing off the wall. The turbolift wasn’t much further and was mostly empty. He didn’t care what the other people must think of him with the way he was slouching in the corner. As long as they eft him alone they could do as they pleased. It was a short trip to the upper level and then Cal was once more weaving through the crowd.

After a few minutes, he finally came across a slightly run down looking shop advertising, among other things, clothes. Wanting to get away from the busy path sooner rather than later, he headed in. It was fairly quiet inside, the dim lights offering some relief from the growing headache. There were only a few others milling about, a pair of Mirialans in the far corner and a Rodian nearby looking at a collection of novelty mugs.

It didn’t look like there was much reason to the layout, shelves stacked with an assortment of items roughly grouped by type. There weren’t too many echoes inside, but they were present, rubbing against the edges of his consciousness like sandpaper.

He wandered between the shelves, wondering if this place actually had any clothes or if the sign was just there to get people to come inside. At least the vast majority of the things in here were free of echoes, the merchandise new enough that there hadn’t been time for anyone to leave an imprint.

He did eventually find the promised clothes in the middle of the shop, taking up two racks of overstuffed shelves. Not really sure what he was looking for, he started sifting through the piles. He’d never really had to think about what he was wearing before. As a Jedi, the Temple provided him with everything he needed, robes included. Then the guild had issued him two sets of mandatory uniform with limited options for sizes. Everyone looked the same with specialist equipment like his climbing harness the only variation, marking them by role. He’d never bothered buying spare clothes, preferring to save as much as he could for food and rent instead. This was the first time he’d had any choice in what he wore. It was almost overwhelming.

Deciding to stick with what he knew, he looked for something simple and utilitarian, something that would stand up to hard work. He ended up with three shirts in a range of muted earthy colours and a couple pairs of dark trousers. That was probably enough, right? How many clothes did the average person own anyway?

He grabbed some extra underwear and socks on his way to the counter. While Cal was no stranger to wearing the same ones day after day, he’d rather not. It was one of the few things he had allowed himself to buy, though the socks were a necessity. It never ended well when a scrapper couldn’t keep their feet dry.

A disinterested Kiffar man sat behind the counter, absorbed in his datapad with his boots kicked up. He flicked his eyes to Cal, frowned, tapped his datapad and set it down with a weary sigh to add up the total of the pile of clothes. It came to just over fifty credits. The Kiffar folded everything up and put it in a bag for him once he’d paid, going back to his datapad without another word.

Cal counted how many credits he had left. He didn’t intend to spend every last one since it wasn’t his money. Cere may have said he could spend as much as he liked, but it still felt like a test, and he hated owing debts.

Seven credits lay in his palm. Not much, not enough for any more clothes, but he was happy enough with what he’d got already. It might be enough to buy a music chip, however. He didn’t have to tell Cere about it, could hide it in his pocket, pretend he’d always had it. It would certainly go a long way to preserving his sanity.

“She can’t find out. She’ll kill me.”

What if she did find out? He doubted she would go as far as to kill him, but would it be bad enough that she decided he couldn’t be trusted? Would he fail somehow?

No, he was being ridiculous. Cere had said she needed him, and from the scant conversations they’d had, he knew they’d been searching for a Jedi for a long time. He’d gotten the impression that he was their only hope for whatever was waiting on Bogano, and he was determined to prove himself to them. But a music chip would really help keep his head clear.

“Do you sell music chips here?” he asked the man.

“Far wall,” he said, pointing without looking up. “Or there’s the shop a few levels down. Pokey little place not far from the turbolift. Purple lights, can’t miss it.”

The mere idea of fighting his way two levels down made his head throb. A quick glance at the chrono on the counter revealed he didn’t have long before he had to meet back up with Cere anyway. It was here or nothing.

He headed in the direction the Kiffar had indicated, finding himself surrounded by second-hand tech of various sizes and functions. There was a strong concentration of echoes here, grating against his nerves.

“What’s this?”

“I can almost reach it!”

“Can I see?”

Blinking hard to keep his vision from blurring, he tried to search he crammed shelves for the tiny chips without touching anything. He ended up finding three of them on the top shelf, thankfully free of echoes themselves. None of them were labelled. If there were more lying around, he wasn’t likely to find them any time soon. It was a gamble, but he picked one and left the others. He didn’t know what he’d end up with, but it surely couldn’t make things worse.

He wasn’t sure how many credits a single chip was so all he could do was hope he had enough. Prices for these things on Bracca were massively inflated, along with everything else. They were a rare luxury people were willing to pay a lot of money for. But out in the wider galaxy, Cal suspected there was an abundance of them lying in forgotten corners.

“Three credits,” the Kiffar said when he presented the chip. Cal handed the money over and slipped the chip into his pocket. He could’ve gotten a second chip, but he was running out of time. He thanked the man—not that he paid Cal any attention once he took his credits—and prepared to step back outside.

The crowd hadn’t let up at all, the flood of noise already threatening to overwhelm his senses. He was surely going to pay for this later. “Go on,” the voices said even as he put his headphones back on. “Just reach out.” Cal physically shook the thoughts from his mind and tried to scrape together some kind of mental barrier against them, shoving them down where they were more easily ignored.

Cere would be waiting for him by now. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he’d run off and head back without him, stranding him on this station full of echoes. The delay searching for the chips had eaten up more time than he’d anticipated. With as deep a breath as he could manage, he stepped into the crowd, following it in the direction of the turbolift. He kept his eyes locked on his destination as he wove his way through, shrugging off a few minor echoes but otherwise making it through unscathed.

The level below was another story. Somehow it had gotten even busier, the gaps between bodies having grown smaller.

“Kriff, I’m out of time.”

Cal pushed his way into the crowd, clinging to the thin barrier in his mind, trying to keep as many of the lesser ones at bay. It wasn’t working, flickers of muted emotions punching through, showing him flashes of other people’s lives. The sounds of the busy market were swiftly replaced by the noise in his head.

“When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“About three months now.”

Cal grit his teeth against it, finding his concentration waning. Why did he stop walking?

“Hey! Get back here with that!”

“Kara will love this. I can’t wait to see her again.”

It was all blending together. He pulled off his headphones, the blaring noise only serving to make his headache worse. The voices were too loud to ignore.

“Where did I put the wrench?”

He was almost there. Maybe. Where was he going again?

“I’m heading into town,” he said. There was a shipment of parts they needed to fix up the generator. Damn thing had been acting up for two months now.

“Don’t be too long,” Iska said, hunched over the old speeder she’d been fixing up. If anyone could get it running again, it was her. It would certainly make both their lives easier. He turned to leave…

Only to find himself somewhere completely different. What was he going to do again?

Replacement parts, he was supposed to get parts, but… this wasn’t town. Didn’t even look like he was on the same planet. More like a ship of some kind. He didn’t think he’d ever seen so many people in one place, much more used to sodden fields of nothing but green.

He had no idea where he was, but standing in the middle of the moving crowd was doing him no favours, getting jostled around. His chest hurt but he couldn’t remember why. Had someone shot him recently? He’d have to figure that one out later. Maybe Iska could help him.

He made his way to the edge of the crowd, steadily pushing his way through. His head pounded, the floor tilting dangerously under his feet.

Something was wrong.

He tripped over his own feet, sending him crashing into someone. They pushed him off roughly, cussing in a language he didn’t understand. He didn’t pay them any mind, all his attention on the crushing pain in his chest.

Finally free of the crowd, he stumbled over to the wall, bracing one hand on it while the other wrapped protectively around his ribs, hunching over. Were they broken? Sure felt like it, but when had that happened?

He fell to one knee as the floor tilted again, his legs giving out. He curled in on himself as much as he could, trying to protect himself from the onslaught.

Where was he? How could he get home?

From the corner of his eye, he could see a woman approaching. “Are you hurt?” she asked, sounding oddly distant. He looked up at her, something about her familiar. He couldn’t place her. She reached out to touch him, but he flinched away.

What was happening?

“Cal?” she said.

“I’m not… I don’t know…” He wanted to tell her his name, ask how he got here and how to get back home, but he couldn’t remember it. Reality was slipping through his fingers. He didn’t know his name. Where was home even supposed to be?

“Talk to me Cal,” the woman said again. This time the name sounded familiar, clicking into place.

He stared at the woman for a moment, his frantic thoughts ever so slowly reorganising. He was Cal, and he knew this woman. He let out a groan, the hand not keeping him from keeling over moving from his ribs to cradle his head pounding head. He closed his eyes as the sound of the nearby crowd rushed in to fill his senses.

He’d been overwhelmed by the echoes, lost in someone else’s life.

“Cere,” he slurred while his brain continued to reset itself.

“Come on,” she said, taking his arm and hauling him to his feet. She let him lean on her as they walked. His legs were hollow, threatening to give way with one wrong move, and it didn’t help that the floor kept rocking under him. It was like trying to walk on a gravel slope, shifting with every step. “We’re not far from the ship.”

All Cal could do was mumble a garbled noise even he wasn’t sure the intended meaning of; his head too mangled to form anything coherent. His vision had gone wonky, the bright lights of the station stabbing needles directly into his brain. He squinted against it; his eyes only open enough to stop him from straying into a wall.

Before he knew it, they were back on board the Mantis. Cere led him straight through to the engine room, sitting him down on the bed. Cal tried to ask her to shut off the lights, but all that came out was more slurred nonsense.

“Don’t look into the sun idiot! You’ll go blind!”

“I know,” he mumbled into his hands where he was hiding his face.

“What was that?”

“Lights. Off,” he groaned, louder this time.

“Not just yet, I want to take a look at you. What happened?” she asked, the bed dipping as she sat beside him.

“Migraine.”

“Can you look at me for a moment?” she asked.

“Can’t. Hurts.”

“I’m worried Cal. You were really out of it back there. I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay. Did anyone try to hurt you or give you something?” That was a fair assumption he supposed. Still, he didn’t want to have to open his eyes until the light stopped drilling directly into his skull.

“The people were… too much.”

“Are you sure that was all?” she asked, sounding entirely unconvinced.

Cal nodded but aborted the movement when it made his stomach lurch and the pain in his head explode.

“Are you hurt anywhere else? You looked like you were in pain.”

He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to tell her about his chest. Maybe it would get her off his back and she would leave him to wallow in peace. “Broke my ribs on Bracca. I’ll be fine.”

Cere scoffed in disbelief but didn’t say anything immediately. Cal got the sense he might be in trouble, though why that might be he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t any of her business how he dealt with broken bones. “There’s a medkit in the fresher. You’re welcome to whatever you need from there, painkillers included. I can get you some now if you’d like?”

Cal gave her a grunt of acknowledgement, but his brain was still sludge, the conversation already slipping from his mind as the voices kept chattering, incorrectly filling in the blanks. He heard the click of the lights being turned off and tentatively lifted his head from his hands. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was met by blissful darkness. Light still came in through the open door, but it was bearable.

He tried to relieve some of the pressure in his head while Cere was gone, massaging his temples. The noise was getting on his nerves, echoes too close to the surface. He couldn’t shove them back down, images of places he didn’t know flashed across his mind, conversations with people long dead rattling around inside his head. He tried shushing them out loud, hoping maybe the sound of his own voice might be enough to hold it all back for now.

He was so caught up in his internal misery that he didn’t notice that Cere had returned until she spoke. “These should help,” she said. He looked up, squinting against the light coming in through the door. She was holding a couple of pills in one hand, a cup of water in the other. He took both pills in one go, downing them with several gulps of water.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“What really happened out there?” she asked, crossing her arms. He had a horrible feeling she wasn’t going to drop this until she got an answer she was satisfied with. Only Master Tapal had known how bad his psychometry had gotten. Cal had known towards the end of the war that he’d been afraid, despite his best efforts to hide it. Cal had come across him once after he’d been talking to the Council. Cal could tell he was upset, which in itself was a rare occurrence, so Cal had asked what was wrong. He could never forget the sorrow in his voice as he explained to Cal that the Council would not let them retreat from the front lines. Cal understood why. The Council saw him as a valuable asset and used him as such. He had tried to assure his master then that it was alright, he could keep an eye on Cal and make sure nothing bad happened to him. It was a Jedi’s duty to help those unable to help themselves after all. He wished now that he’d been a little more selfish.

“Cal?” Cere said, pulling him back to the present. He hadn’t realised his mind had wandered, like getting sucked into an echo of his own making.

“Huh?” he said, unable to remember what she’d asked.

“What happened?”

“Migraine, like I said.”

“Don’t give me that,” she said flatly. “I’ve had some hellish migraines in my life. None of them had me forgetting my own name.”

Kriff. He’d hoped that was part of the echo he’d been trapped in. He had no defence against that. She couldn’t find out the truth though. She’d make him use his psychometry to help preserve whatever was left of the Jedi. He couldn’t live like that again, reduced to his abilities, denied any say in what he did. “Later?”

“Fine,” she sighed. “But you’re not wriggling out of it this time. We will be talking about this.” With that she left, closing the door behind her, leaving Cal in the blessed dark. The only light came from the various switches and readouts on the engine, just enough light to see by without it causing too much pain. He toed off his boots before very carefully lying down, not even bothering to take off his poncho.

His headphones still hung around his neck, so he put them on and turned the volume down. He didn’t need to pulverise what was left of his brain with thumping bass. He just needed it loud enough to serve as a distraction. Despite having a brand new chip, he decided something familiar would be best for now. Besides, he wanted to be able to appreciate whatever he’d just bought.

The voices weren’t too loud now they were away from the crowd, more of an irritating buzz that was easily drowned out. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of the impending conversation he would have to have with Cere. That was a problem for future Cal. Present Cal just needed to rest.

Chapter Text

A dull pounding in his head brought Cal to reluctant wakefulness. For a while he lay very still and kept his eyes closed, willing the pain away. To no one’s surprise, it didn’t work. Once it became apparent he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep he gave up and cracked his eyes open.

The engine room was still blessedly dark. He sighed in relief when moving his head around didn’t make the pain any worse. It might even go away entirely if he took a painkiller. He could certainly do with one for his ribs, aching from lying in one position for too long. Easing himself upright, he sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, just trying to get his bearings.

“You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“Forgotten what?”

“She wanted to see you ‘bout something.”

Kriff. Cere wanted answers. He knew he’d never been particularly convincing about being “normal”, but he’d hoped he’d gotten by well enough that neither she nor Greez cared enough to ask for specifics. That had fallen apart spectacularly and now he had to convince her there wasn’t anything wrong somehow.

“You could come clean.”

“Absolutely not,” he groaned, scrubbing his face with both hands. No one knew what lay waiting for them in the Vault. If it turned out to be a hoard of Jedi artifacts, then they would certainly carry echoes. Depending on how old they were there could be many, all layered on top of each other. He knew what historians were like, digging for answers in the smallest fragments, obsessing over records. There had been one incident with a Master at the Temple who had expressed an interest in taking him on as a Padawan when he was older, primarily so that he could help with research. Creche-master Syk had made short work of chasing her off, apparently for good as Cal never saw her again. Aside from his own master, Master Syk had been the only other person he knew for certain only wanted to help him.

She was probably long dead by now, along with everyone else.

Talking to Cere was the last thing he wanted. She used to be a Jedi, so it wasn’t out of the question that she knew of psychometry. What was stopping her from using him? The Jedi Council had done the same thing during the war.

At first Master Tapal had refused to let him off the Albedo Brave unless they were stopping somewhere away from the fighting, which was a vanishingly rare occurrence. Cal practically had to beg him to let him go on missions. He’d wanted to prove himself useful and being trapped on the ship for months at a time had started to drive him up the wall. He didn’t remember much of his first mission once Master Tapal relented. It was supposed to be a simple recon in a supposedly empty region, but he’d touched something with a powerful echo that left him seizing. He’d woken up some hours later back in the medbay with Master Tapal at his side.

It had taken a long time before he’d been allowed to leave the Brave again. An entire squad had gone missing, and they’d had no idea how or why. Cal pointed out that he could probably find out easily enough, but Master Tapal had resisted the idea. At the time Cal had thought he was just being stubborn, disregarding what Cal wanted. In hindsight, Cal realised he was trying to protect him.

He wished more than anything he hadn’t been so eager now, but how was he supposed to know what would happen. No one could tell him anything about psychometry or how it worked. No one warned him about the voices.

That was the fear now, that Cere might decide that because he could witness the past he could be used to recover the lost history of the Jedi. He wouldn’t let her. He refused to become nothing more than a tool, not again. He’d rather go back to working with the guild. At least there he was paid for his labour, even if it went right back to the source within the week.

He couldn’t hide in here forever though. Eventually they would reach Bogano and… well something was going to happen. Maybe he was overthinking it all and everything would be fine. He’d lied his way around things on Bracca, let everyone believe what they liked about him. He’d claimed he had seizures whenever someone found him gripped in an echo, completely unaware of the world around him as him mind was transported to another time. If he was caught conversing with thin air he never bothered to correct the rumours that he was psychotic or talking with ghosts. Honestly neither were too far off the mark.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the bed and changed his clothes. Cere had left the bag of clothes he’d bought by the door, so he pulled out a dark green shirt and a pair of navy trousers at random and threw them on. They fit surprisingly well considering he hadn’t really known which sizes to get. The trousers were a little long but that could be fixed by tucking them into his boots.

He stopped in the fresher on his way to the galley, hoping to find the medkit. If he was going to talk to Cere, he could do with one less distraction. To his mild surprise, it was sitting out on the counter, the painkillers resting on top of everything else inside. That made sense, he supposed. He doubted anyone else would have needed something from it in the relatively short time he’d been asleep. Maybe Cere forgot to put it away. He popped one of the pills from the pack and swallowed it with a handful of water from the tap. Hopefully it would kick in soon.

Procrastination over, he headed out to the galley. He could already feel pressure building in his head as the voices started kicking up a fuss. Cere was sitting at the table, reading something on her datapad as she sipped her tea. “Afternoon.”

“Is it?” Time was difficult to judge in the engine room and he hadn’t thought to check the chrono before heading out.

“You haven’t missed anything,” she said, looking up from the datapad. “How’s your head?”

Cal shrugged. “Still aches but I took a painkiller.”

“We need to talk about what happened at the station.”

“Do we?” he said, passing her to lean against the counter in the galley, playing up the petulant teenager.

Cere let out an unimpressed sigh. “Yes. If we’re going to be working together we can’t afford to take any unnecessary risks. If there’s something that’s going to affect your ability to complete this mission, then we ought to know now. Before it starts causing problems.”

“You’ll get us all killed if you keep that up.”

Great, she did think he was a liability. “I survived five years on Bracca as a rigger,” he said coldly. “Do you know what kind of work that involves?” Her expression fell ever so slightly, a sadness in her eyes as she shook her head. He’d never liked pity.

“He can’t handle it. Should be taken off the crew.”

“Or fed to the Maw.”

“I’ve climbed ships hundreds of meters high without a line to catch me. I’ve crawled through collapsed wrecks to make it safer for everyone else to work. I’ve torn apart engines and fuel cells and cannons, knowing one wrong move would kill me and everyone nearby. If I wasn’t able to work I would be dead. But here I am. So no, there’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.” He didn’t mean to snap at her, but he was exhausted and in pain and at risk of being found out. He just wanted to catch a break.

Cere watched him carefully for several long seconds. It was uncomfortable, but he resisted the urge to fidget, holding his ground. “I’m sorry you had to live like that,” she said eventually, painfully sincere.

“He shouldn’t be here. No place for kids.”

“I did what I had to,” he shrugged.

Another beat passed before she nodded her head, breaking eye contact. “Alright, I trust you can handle yourself. But there’s something else, isn’t there.”

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m not an idiot Cal,” she said gently. “I was hoping to find a better way of bringing it up, but it hasn’t worked out like that.”

Fear shot through Cal, sharp on his tongue. It crossed his mind to run but found himself frozen in place. He said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate before he dug himself a deeper hole than necessary.

“When you first came on board, you were talking to someone,” she began.

“No I wasn’t,” he said a little too quickly.

“Yes you were!”

Cere raised an eyebrow at him. “That wasn’t the only time,” she continued smoothly. “Sometimes you say things that don’t make sense or react to things that aren’t there. It’s okay, I’m not judging you,” she added when he started eyeing the doorway leading to the back of the ship. “I can’t imagine how horrible surviving the Purge and Bracca must have been for you. There’s no shame if that’s had a lasting effect.”

Cal let out a small sigh of relief, some of the tension bleeding from him. She might have figured out part of it, but she didn’t know the root cause. She just thought he was insane like everyone else. “I… uh… hear voices, sometimes,” he said slowly, looking at the ground. Hopefully if he admitted this she wouldn’t poke too much deeper and he could keep his secret safe. She was most of the way there to figuring out that part anyway so it wouldn’t make too much difference. Still, it was scary saying it out loud. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I won’t make you. But thank you for telling me. If you change your mind and you do want to talk about it, or anything else, you can always come to me.”

Cal gave her a nod, still keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Why don’t you get something to eat,” she said. “We’ll be arriving on Bogano in a couple of hours.” She picked up her tea and datapad and headed to her cabin, giving Cal some space.

“That could’ve gone better.”

“Yeah, but it could’ve gone much worse,” he muttered to the now empty galley.

Cal was back in the engine room listening to his new music chip when he felt the Mantis revert to realspace, the ever-present vibration changing as the sub-light engines came to life. He didn’t recognise any of the songs on the chip and wasn’t sure if they were all from the same artist or some kind of compilation, but they all shared an energetic, bubbly sound that was slowly growing on him.

Eager to see this Bogano place, he switched his headphones off and set them to charge, grabbed his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. Being able to do so sent a strange wave of pride through him. For so long he’d had to keep it hidden, but for now he could carry it openly. As he should have been able to all along.

They were just about to enter the atmosphere as Cal walked into the common area. He couldn’t see much through the viewports, mostly patches of green peeking through clouds. He made his way through to the cockpit, doing his best to ignore the voices on his way. He hadn’t been in the cockpit much since Greez tended to be there and he’d rather not make the pilot hate him more than he already did.

He couldn’t see much here either, the viewports obscured in white. “Make yourself useful and sit down,” Greez said, not taking his eyes off the controls. Cal did as he was told, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. “Check the scanner for me. It should tell you how far out we are.” It took Cal a moment to locate the scanner amongst the various displays. He relayed the heading and Greez adjusted their flightpath accordingly, angling the ship in the right direction.

A moment later, they broke through the cloud layer, the cockpit flooding with light. Cal looked up to see an endless expanse of green plains, broken up by deep canyons of white rock stretching out to the horizon. It was untouched, save for what must be the Vault, standing tall over the landscape. Cal had never seen anything like it. Coruscant was a magnificent feat of engineering, awe inspiring in its magnitude, but wild spaces hadn’t existed in hundreds of years. And Bracca was… well abysmal was putting it mildly.

“It’s… beautiful.”

“You never seen grass before kid?” Greez asked half-joking when he noticed Cal was no longer paying attention to the scanner.

“Not for a long time,” he said, not taking his eyes off the view. “And never this much.”

Greez muttered something under his breath, but in all fairness if he didn’t want an answer, he shouldn’t have asked. Cal paid him little attention as they made their final approach, the ground coming up to meet them. He leapt out of his seat before the ship had fully settled, eager to get outside. Cere was already standing by the ramp, giving him an amused smile as he hurried over. “Welcome to Bogano,” she said as they stepped onto the ramp.

Fresh air filled his lungs, the smells of damp earth and grass wafting in the gentle breeze. He was so used to breathing in smog and pollution that he’d forgotten what clean air was like. “Come on,” Cere said with a slight laugh when he stopped walking. She put her hand on his back, encouraging him to follow her down the ramp. “That’s the Vault over there,” she said, pointing to the towering structure in the distance.

In the back of Cal’s mind the Force tugged at him, drawing him towards it. Pulling in the opposite direction, the voices whispered doubt to him. His connection to the Force was damaged and Cere had said it needed someone strong to open it. “What if I can’t do it,” he said, his gaze fixed on the Vault.

“Do you want to do this?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said with more certainty than he felt. He turned to look at her, jaw set in determination.

Something close to a smile passed over her features. “Then I believe you can. And if not, then we will work on your connection until you can. There’s no rush. The Empire doesn’t know this place exists. For all they know we disappeared into the Unknown Regions. The hard part will come when we leave.”

Cal turned back to the Vault. Despite its imposing size, it was quite a distance from where they had landed. It would probably take a few hours to reach it if he could travel in a straight line, but several smaller buildings dotted the plains between them, and he was sure those canyons would slow things down further.

“Before you go, there’s someone here I think you should meet,” she said cryptically. He was about to ask her what she meant but she was already heading back up the ramp. He’d learnt by now that there was no use trying to press her for details. She would only ever tell him as much as she deemed necessary.

He stepped off the ramp, boots squelching in the damp earth. He crouched down, picking a blade of grass. It had been a very long time since he’d seen anything growing wild save for the mould in his apartment.

He let the blade fall from his fingers and set off, following the faint traces of a path down a slope, the ground soft beneath his boots. It wasn’t like Bracca where the mud was near black with oil, poison to anything trying to live in it. Here it nourished the plants, providing them with everything they needed to grow healthy.

It didn’t take long for the voices to start calming down. Away from the mass of echoes that was the ship, there was nothing out here to agitate them. The only influence in the Force came from the Vault, but even that was little more than a faint tugging. It was the break he’d been hoping for, allowing him the headspace to think about anything aside from his immediate survival. They were still there of course, butting in and distracting him, but they were easier to work around.

As he walked, he still couldn’t get over how untouched Bogano was. He passed several small, furry creatures that hopped around, disappearing into their burrows when he approached. Beyond the chatter, he could just make out the chirping of insects. The sky remained clear of ships and fumes, a beautiful clear blue dotted with clouds, the likes of which he didn’t think he’d ever see again.

Cal didn’t know exactly who or what he was supposed to be looking for, but there was evidence that someone was around. He passed by an old generator, but it was nowhere near as ancient as the Vault. It looked like it hadn’t been operational in a long time, rust bleeding through the paint and flaking off in large patches. There was a faint echo here, frustration snagging at the edges of his mind. He passed it by, ignoring the voices telling him to go back.

After a while he came to a dead end, the path he’d been following leading over the edge of the cliff. Leaning over the edge, he could not see the bottom, shrouded in darkness. Across the gap grew thick vines, but they were too far for him to jump to. There was a rusty control panel that looked like it might be connected to a platform built into the rock, but he had no idea if it was even operational. He wouldn’t be able to do anything with it anyway since it required a scomp link.

He hadn’t seen any alternative routes on his way here. This must be how whoever lived here got around. Without any idea how to get across the gap he was stuck. He didn’t want to have to go back to Cere so soon and admit defeat.

“Take a break. Think it over.”

“Trust in the Force.”

He could try to meditate. There wasn’t anything around he could damage if things went wrong. Besides, if he wanted to open the Vault, he needed to try to fix his connection sooner rather than later. “Here goes nothing,” he said as he knelt in the damp grass. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before trying to open himself up to the Force.

It greeted him like an old friend, brittle but there. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, what a gaping hole in his chest had been left behind when he’d turned his back on it out of fear. Gradually, he let his awareness extend beyond his body, connecting him to all the living things around him. He could see the roots of the plants burrowing deep in the rich soil in his mind’s eye, the light of the suns shining on their leaves. Deeper in the rock, a family of those furry creatures huddled together in the safety of their burrow. All around him the planet sang in the Force, connecting all life clinging to its thin surface.

With slow, measured breaths, he let the connection deepen, letting himself get lost in the Force itself. It didn’t take long for serenity to turn to strain, the tether between Cal and the Force becoming taut, on the verge of snapping. Panicking, Cal tried to pull himself back, but he was trapped, unable to find his way back.

“Weak.”

“You were too slow.”

“A liability. A failure!”

“You killed him!”

“IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Cal opened his eyes with a ragged gasp as he snapped back to reality. The world around him wavered, making it difficult to recentre himself. He dug his fists into his thighs, giving him something to focus on as he tried to get his bearings. The grass around him had been flattened, a new crack splitting the rock from where he knelt all the way to the ledge.

“You’re out of control.”

Cal screwed his eyes shut and let out a shaky sigh. Maybe meditation just wasn’t for him. He’d never been very good at it to begin with, unable to sit still for long enough to appreciate the depths of the Force. Now he’d gladly take whatever scraps he could get.

A curious beep punctured through the mess that was his head right now. Startled, Cal looked up to find a small droid watching him. The last thing he expected to find on this seemingly abandoned planet was a droid, the dissonance enough to reset his brain and settle him firmly in the present. The droid chirped again, introducing himself as BD-1.

“Hey BD-1. I’m Cal,” he said, still a little dazed. BD-1 crept forward and asked if he was alright, his head tilted curiously. Cal could feel a multitude of echoes clinging to him, though they were weak enough that Cal couldn’t pick up anything from them at this distance. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he lied, feeling wrong-footed talking to this mysterious droid. If BD-1 could tell he was lying, he didn’t point it out, instead asking what he was doing here. “I’m looking for someone. I think...”

BD-1’s antennas swivelled up as he asked if Cal was looking for him. “No, not you. A Jedi, I think.” He still wasn’t sure how to interpret Cere’s vague instructions, but since she had so far only mentioned her master, he assumed that was who he should be looking for. Though why he couldn’t open the Vault was another mystery.

Oh, BD beeped, he knew where he could look! “Wait, you know the Jedi?” Cal called after the droid as he ran off, getting to his feet to follow. BD jumped up on the control panel and stuck his scomp link into it, activating the bridge. It extended out to the vines while BD hopped off the panel and used his boosters to fly himself up to the ledge. Cal crossed over to the vines, giving them an experimental tug. They felt like they would support his weight, though the climb was going to be hell on his ribs. But, with no other way up, he followed the small droid.

Cal soon learnt BD-1 didn’t exactly take things slowly, rushing ahead only to pause to make sure Cal was still following. As soon as he caught up, the little droid was off again, leading him across the plains. Eventually they ended up inside what looked like a workshop of some kind. Though it didn’t look like anyone had been here in a while, there was still power, most of the lights still in working order.

The Force prickled in warning at the same time that BD-1 suddenly shot off with a discordant buzz. “Hey, wait!” he called, following as fast as his aching ribs would allow. Around the corner the short passage opened out to a large room, in the middle of which BD-1 was attempting to electrocute a huge, hairless creature that was doing its best to turn him into a chew toy. Off to the side one of those furry animals hopped away before disappearing into its burrow.

Cal took hold of his lightsaber, activating it as he entered the room. That caught the creature’s attention, turning its bulbous red eye to him. It must have decided Cal was a more worthwhile meal than BD as it dropped the droid, crouching before leaping at Cal. He narrowly sidestepped the claws and teeth flying at him, bringing down his lightsaber as he did so. He carved a blistering line across its back, not quite deep enough through its thick hide for a clean kill. It hissed and squealed, landing awkwardly in a writhing mass of limbs, claws gouging the floor as it righted itself.

Before Cal could close the gap and finish it off, it got to its feet and came running at him, swiping at him with claws as big as his hand. Cal was faster, cutting of its head before it got him first. Its lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air. Cal didn’t exactly like killing, but it was either that or he’d end up as its dinner.

BD hobbled over and scanned the smoking body, helpfully informed him it was called a bog rat. “Oh yeah? Who came up with that name?” he asked as he holstered his lightsaber. BD processed the rhetorical question for a moment before sadly admitting he didn’t have that information in his databank.

“It’s alright. What was that other thing? The furry one?” That was a bogling, BD chirped. They’re very shy but harmless. Unlike the bog rats. Those are just mean.

“Well, I think what you did was pretty brave,” Cal said. BD whistled at him again before turning to head further into the workshop, dragging his broken leg along the ground. “Hey, I could fix that for you. If you want?” he offered. It was only fair since he was helping him get to the Vault. BD paused, looking down at his leg then back to Cal who was now crouching beside him. He leapt at Cal, causing him to nearly overbalance as he caught him.

“What have you found there?”

“Bee-bee bwoop!”

“Interesting. Let me take a closer look.”

For once, the voices contained within the echo weren’t the most prominent thing Cal noticed. No, this time he was hit with an overwhelming sense of fondness for the droid now sitting in his hands. He had to make a conscious effort to resist the urge to hug him. This was why he didn’t like touching droids, especially those meant as companions. These feelings weren’t his; he’d know BD less than an hour. As the echoes settled back down, Cal was left with a deep sense of loss, carving out a hole in his chest.

BD gave a worried chirp, drawing Cal back to the present by asking if he was alright. “It’s nothing,” he said, brushing off his concern as he got back to his feet. There was a workbench nearby with a little overhead light. He sat BD down in a relatively uncluttered area and got to work, starting with wiping off the saliva coating him.

“Your scomp link is busted,” he said after a couple of minutes of poking around. There wasn’t a replacement part that he could see lying around, and honestly if there was one, he doubted it was still functional. He was beginning to get the sense that this place had been abandoned for a long time if the dust was anything to go by. Cal did what he could to mend his ankle joint with whatever scraps he could find. He’d gotten very good at makeshift repairs thanks to his time on Bracca. Nothing had ever worked like it should, but as long as it got the job done no one really complained.

“That should get you moving again,” he said as he finished up. BD tested his weight on it when he was done and quickly declared it the best patch job he’d ever gotten.

“You had many others?” he asked.

No, he beeped, just this one. But he’s sure it’s the best.

“How did you end up here anyway?” That sense of loss had mostly faded by now, but he couldn’t help but wonder why such a well-loved droid was out here seemingly all alone.

It took BD several seconds to respond but he reported that he couldn’t recall that information. “How long have you been here?”

Eight standard cycles he chirped back. “On your own?”

Yes, but he had the boglings for company and plenty of places to explore. With that he hopped off the bench and darted through a vent in the wall. He still had something to show Cal and he was eager to get to their destination. While the vents might be the easiest way to travel when you were the size of a scrap rat, Cal would have to find an alternative route.

He squeezed his way through a set of broken doors and clambered his way to the upper level where he was met by a mass of cables that had fallen from the ceiling, blocking the way through. There was no other way through that he could see, nor any way to make sure the power was off.

“This is going to end badly.”

“Yeah, probably,” he said, even as he activated his lightsaber. Maybe he’d get lucky. The rest of the place was in varying states of disrepair; maybe there was no current running through these cables and everything would be fine. He found out the hard way that was not the case.

“Ah! I thought you said the power was disconnected!”

“It was! There must be a backup somewhere. You alright?”

“I’ll live.”

Cal blinked up at the ceiling, spots dancing in his vision. He tried to get up but was brought short by the pain exploding in his chest. “Ow,” he groaned. At his side he heard BD give a concerned bwoop. He hadn’t noticed the little droid’s arrival. “I’ll be alright. Just give me a sec.”

BD opened a panel in his head and ejected something green and glowing. Cal barely managed to catch it, bringing it to his face to get a better look. “A stim? You’re full of surprises.” He pulled the collar of his shirt down enough to stick the needle into his neck. The adrenaline hit first, swiftly followed by the painkillers. For the first time since leaving Bracca, Cal could almost breathe normally. “Thanks.”

Cal got back to his feet, picking up his dropped lightsaber. BD scanned the cables, assuring Cal that there was no longer a current running through them, so it should just be a simple case of cutting through and not electrocuting himself. He was about to take another swing at it when something grabbed his leg. His first instinct was to shake it off, far too used to scrap rats trying their luck, but when he saw it was only BD he stopped. BD tried to climb further up his leg but only succeeded in pinching Cal’s skin.

“Alright, come here,” he said, picking up the droid and setting him on his shoulder. BD chirped his thanks and held on tight to the strap across his shoulder. He cut through the cables without a problem and made his way through the workshop back up to the surface. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing a blue sky.

Chapter Text

After wandering through the maze that was Bogano, Cal hadn’t found any sign that anyone still lived here. There were a handful of echoes scattered about, but none of them revealed much. A single-minded focus on some research, a favourite tool left behind long ago, and a general sense of wonder at the planet around them. They were some of the nicest echoes Cal had encountered in a long time, but they weren’t all happy. Undercutting it all was a deep sense of loneliness and isolation. Cal tried not to dwell on its familiarity.

BD didn’t seem to notice his melancholy, happily giving Cal directions as they wound their way towards the Vault. Much to Cal’s dismay there was no direct path that could simply be walked. The healing stim may have finally muted the pain in his ribs, but they were still very much broken and were making him well aware of their displeasure at him climbing about. He was surely going to pay for it later, but for now he powered through, hoping to get back to the Mantis before he crashed.

BD eventually led him to a wide gap between the cliffs, the Vault looming over them. It was so close now, reaching for him in through the Force. There was no way that he could see to reach it though. “Uh, BD? Where do we go now?”

Across, came the reply from his shoulder. Cal wasn’t sure if the little droid was malfunctioning or not. The sheer faces of the cliffs were too smooth to climb and too far apart for him to be able to wedge himself between. “Are you sure?”

Yes, this was the only path up unless Cal knew how to fly, BD chirped. Cal rolled his eyes at the terrible joke. It seemed he’d picked up a droid with a sense of humour. He ran his hand over the cliff face, double checking there were no suitable handholds for him to climb across. The surface wasn’t perfectly flat, shallow grooves worn into it by the wind over many years.

There was a time once when Master Tapal had taught him how to run along walls like this by using the Force to make himself stick to it, if only temporarily. It had been a difficult skill to get to grips with, so far outside what he was used to doing. He’d struggled to keep picking himself up and keep going. He hadn’t been used to failing back then, most lessons in the Temple having come easily to him. Now all he seemed to do was fail.

“Again. Better this time. Don’t hold back.”

Maybe he could do it again. He knew it was possible after all. If he got it wrong, the consequences would be far graver than a skinned knee, but maybe that extra risk was what he needed to kick himself into gear. He’d get one shot and either fail or succeed.

“Here goes nothing,” Cal muttered under his breath. He stepped back from the edge before taking a running leap at the wall. He reached out to the Force, praying with every fibre of his being that it would heed his call. It answered, wrapping itself around him and allowing him to pull himself against the vertical surface. It didn’t take much, just enough pressure to give his boots enough traction to run. When he felt himself start to slip, he jumped across the gap, doing the same at the other wall.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he landed on the far side. “Did you see that?” he said to BD breathlessly. BD gave an excited whirr, saying they should do it again. “I’m sure there’ll be time for that later. But look, the Vault’s just ahead,” he said. It was a straight shot up the muddy embankment to the entrance from here.

“You made it!”

BD decided they should race up, hopping off Cal’s shoulder and taking off up the muddy slope. Still feeling the rush of clearing the gap, Cal ran after him, nearly sliding back down several times. BD had the obvious advantage of being much lighter and therefore not sinking into the mud. Cal didn’t mind much so didn’t point it out to him when he reached the top, letting him revel in his own victory.

The Force was strong here, reverberating through his very being. Even the usual background chatter in his head had settled, singing a tuneless melody in harmony. As he caught his breath, he looked out over the landscape below. He could see the Mantis from here, a small shining dot in the distance, its fin glimmering as it caught the sun. Cal was once again struck by the serenity of Bogano with its vast, empty plains. It was very likely he, Cere, and Greez were the only sentients on the entire planet.

Once his heart stopped beating quite so hard from the climb, he turned back to the Vault’s entrance. A wide column of stone stood at the centre, separate from the towering outer walls. A door was built into the front of it, covered in ancient, weathered runes. There wasn’t an obvious way to open it, but this was where the Force was directing him.

“Give me your hand.”

Tentatively he lay his palm on the door, the rough metal cold beneath his palm. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do now. Cere said he needed to use the Force to open the way, so he closed his eyes and reached out. Unlike when he tried to meditate, he kept his consciousness firmly within his own body, drawing the Force into himself instead. The door took shape in his mind’s eye, sealed tight. He drew in a slow breath, gathering the Force around himself, searching for a way inside. As he exhaled, he pushed out.

Ancient gears rumbled to life, no doubt rusty and stiff from disuse and time. He opened his eyes as the door slid open, showering him in dirt. Cal wasn’t sure what he had been expecting behind the door, but a narrow rocky passage leading deep into the ground wasn’t it. BD gave an excited whistle as he turned on his torch, lighting the way.

Unbothered by the small, damp space, Cal squeezed into the gap. He’d crawled through worse. At least here the damp came from rain water and mud instead of oil and rot. Ignoring the protests from his ribs, he pulled himself through. Light spilled in from the open roof above, illuminating the large, circular chamber. Several centimeters of water pooled on the floor, a layer of mud and grass creating small islands of green. On the far wall was a depiction of three strange beings, tall and thin with wide crested heads.

At the centre of the room was a raised platform protruding from the water. In the middle of it was what looked like some kind of keyhole sunken into the floor. While Cal was trying to figure out what kind of key was supposed to fit it, BD hopped off his back and began scanning.

“Well done, whoever you are.”

Cal ignored the voice as he tried to figure out what he was looking at. It was only when the same voice continued that he turned around to see BD projecting a hologram of an older man, dressed in very familiar robes.

“You have passed the test I left behind and gained access to the Vault and this recording, one of many encrypted logs stored in this droid. I am Master Eno Cordova.”

Cal stood rooted to the spot while he listened to the recording. Part of him could barely believe what he was seeing. After everything they had suffered at the hands of the Empire, this one small remnant of the Jedi had survived all the way out at the edge of the galaxy. The recording of Master Cordova went on to explain that he’d witnessed a vision of the fall of the Jedi while meditating right here in the Vault. In an effort to prevent their total annihilation, he’d set in motion a plan to restore the Order should his vision come to pass.

Cal did his best to listen. He’d never thought after the Purge that he’d have anything meaningful left of the Jedi aside from his master’s broken lightsaber. For a brief moment he thought he’d gotten close with Cere, but she’d closed herself off from the Force. But this? This was something solid he could cling to.

“I have placed inside this Vault a Jedi holocron containing a list of names and locations of young Force-sensitives throughout the galaxy,” the recording continued. “Ahead you will find the inner chamber of the Vault but also another test. I can only entrust this holocron to someone who has followed my path and understands. Seek out the hidden tombs of the three Sages and learn to perceive the mysteries of the Force as the Zeffo once did. In this droid you will find everything you need to succeed in this journey. Go to the Zeffo homeworld. There you will find peace in the eye of the storm. Good luck Jedi. And may the Force be with you.”

The hologram flickered out and Cal found himself staring at empty space, still trying to make sense of what he’d learnt. Cere had been telling the truth. There really was a way they could bring back the Jedi. He turned to BD who was now looking up at him expectantly.

“I guess you are the someone I was supposed to meet after all,” he said, sitting on the central dais to avoid the water. BD trotted closer, his antennae swivelling as he watched Cal closely. Cal opened his mouth to say something to the droid, but he didn’t know what. He had tried not to get his hopes up too much since being rescued, but now he had solid proof that it could be done.

“If there’s a chance, we’ve gotta take it.”

BD gave a curious beep, wondering what was on Cal’s mind. “You know… I’ve been alone for a while now. Without any purpose, just… hiding.” he began. He’d had Prauf, and he’d give anything to be able to go back and save him, but he hadn’t known Cal. Not really. He’d been keeping his true identity a secret for the last five years, but now he had the chance to act, to make a difference.

He wouldn’t hide any longer.

“It’s no way to live. Not for a Jedi. Or a droid,” he added. It must have been lonely all those years, just waiting for someone to come along. BD gave a low whirr of agreement.

It didn’t look like there was much else of interest in the Vault, though BD might disagree with his eagerness to scan things. Cal got to his feet, thinking about the trek ahead of him to get back to the Mantis. He wished he had something more to show for his efforts, but BD and the holograms he carried would do for now.

“Hey, you want to meet some uh…” he asked, hesitating as he decided what to call Cere and Greez, “…friends?” That description didn’t feel quite right since there was still a lot they didn’t know about each other, but they were all on this mission together, and “allies” seemed too blunt. BD gave an excited beep and jumped onto his back, climbing up so that he was once more perched on his shoulder.

Once outside, BD told Cal of a shortcut they could take. It was inaccessible from the other end but was a more direct route to where they’d first met. This path was a little easier to navigate, leading them through another smaller set of rooms built into the rock itself. These looked more like they’d been designed for day to day life rather than working.

This must have been where Master Cordova lived, the echoes left behind belonging to him, including those he’d witnessed on BD. He’d clearly not been here in a long time, probably not since leaving BD-1 behind, but a fair amount of his possessions remained.

“Why don’t you take a look around. Make yourself at home.”

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbled, even as he wandered around one of the rooms, hands jammed into his pockets. It always felt wrong to intentionally go through other people’s things, an invasion of privacy no one could protect themselves against. Even when the person who left the echoes was long gone and likely dead. There was also the risk that he’d pick up something… unsavoury, but he’d learnt to shove those as deep into the back of his mind as he could. That was less of a risk here with an isolated Jedi Master’s belongings, but he’d still rather not take that chance.

BD asked who he was talking to, pausing a scan to look at him with his head tilted. Cal’s first instinct was to lie, to evade the truth same as he had with Cere earlier. But he was so tired, and he had the sense that he and BD would be spending a lot of time together on this mission. It was inevitable he would find out eventually with Cal’s luck, so wouldn’t it be better to tell him now and make him promise to keep his secret?

BD wouldn’t judge him, nor could he make Cal do anything he didn’t want to. His purpose was to help, so if anything he would be the one taking orders from Cal, not the other way around. Not that Cal intended to boss him around. He’d always had a fondness for droids. Most of them anyway. Battle droids and foremen excluded.

“There’s, uh, something I should tell you. But you have to promise not to tell anyone else, alright?” he said, sitting on a nearby bench. BD came over and hopped up beside him. He beeped out a very serious string of binary, promising he wouldn’t reveal whatever Cal was about to tell him to anyone unless given permission. “Thanks,” he said, giving his head a pat. He could still faintly sense Cordova’s echoes there, but they were just background static now.

Cal took a deep breath, trying to organise his thoughts before speaking. “I have this rare ability called psychometry,” he began, voice wavering on the word. He hadn’t dared say it out loud in so long it felt wrong on his tongue. “Basically it means I can touch an object and relive past events connected to it. Echoes in the Force left behind by other people. Not everything has an echo, but I have no control over it. If I touch something with an echo then I get pulled in and I’m forced to relive whatever was left behind.”

BD asked if there were echoes around them now, looking around the room. “Yeah, there’s a few. You can’t see them since they only exist in the Force. Most Jedi can’t tell where they are either.”

That sounds lonely, BD said with a sympathetic whine. “It is. I only met one other psychometric, Master Vos. He came to see if he could help me once, but when I tried to explain what I experienced he basically just told me to try meditating more and get over it.” That had been another instance where Creche master Syk had chased a Jedi master away, though that particular incident had involved a lot more threats on her part when Master Vos had left Cal in desperate tears.

A soft beep brought Cal back to the present. He still hadn’t explained why he kept talking to himself. Apparently this wasn’t this first time BD had caught him slipping up.“Right,” he sighed. He’d gotten this far already, there was no use hiding how deeply broken he was now. “So, uh, when I was around ten I was picking up a lot of echoes from the war. They were… awful, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Some of them were unavoidable, things I was unlucky enough to touch by accident. But others…”

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying to detach himself as he told the story. “The Jedi Council knew of my ability, and they figured out it was useful for espionage. I never fought on the front lines, but I would go on missions to gather intelligence. There’s no way for me to tell what I’m going to see before I touch something. Most of it was bad. At some point I guess my mind couldn’t take it any longer and I broke.

“I can hear them. All the echoes I’ve picked up in the last seven or so years, they’re all in my head and I can hear them all the time and I can’t always tell they’re not real. They’re not so bad out here, but on the Mantis, our ship, they’re really loud. They get agitated when there’s echoes around that I haven’t looked at, demanding I find them. They’re not easy to ignore and they make focusing on anything else difficult.”

BD didn’t respond for a long while, likely still processing everything Cal had said. He’d expected the ball of anxiety that lived permanently in his chest might tighten its grip on him further upon telling BD all this, but if anything it got just a little bit easier to breathe; a weight lifting. Someone else knew the truth now. Someone he could trust.

The last thing Cal expected BD to ask was if he could do anything to help. “Help?” he repeated dumbly. Sure, Master Tapal had taught him a measure of control through the Force, and before him his Creche master had done what she could to keep him calm when he got overwhelmed, trying to keep potential problem objects away from him. But no one had ever asked how they could help.

BD only nodded, awaiting Cal’s answer. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I guess if I start talking out loud to no one you could… cover for me? Make it seem like I’m talking to you? I’m not sure if the others know binary though so that might not work.”

With an excited chirp, BD promised he would do his best and would not repeat what Cal had told him here. “Thanks buddy.” Cal sat there for a while longer, gathering up the raw edges of his emotions and shoving them back inside before heading back to the Mantis. BD completed a few more scans, giving Cal some peace while he explored.

“We should probably get going,” he said when he felt a little more in control of himself. BD wasted no time in hopping back onto Cal’s shoulder before giving him directions back to the surface. Unfortunately this shortcut involved yet more climbing, but the stim BD had given him earlier was still running through his system, dulling the pain enough to make it tolerable.

Cere was waiting for him on the ramp when he returned, the sun now high in the sky. “You passed the test,” she said as he approached. BD beeped at her in greeting, hopping off Cal’s shoulder to run towards her. She didn’t respond to what he said but laughed as he ran around her legs.

“You knew he was here, didn’t you.”

“Come on board, we’ll talk inside,” she said lightly. Though he’d much rather talk outside where his head was clear, it would be strange if he didn’t follow so up the ramp he went. The voices were already agitating, a dull ache building behind his eyes, his skin prickling with the echoes. BD ran ahead, hopping up on the sofa, just in time for Greez to come in and throw a fit.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing with two hands at BD. Before Cal could answer Greez was already chasing him around the table and across the sofa. BD hopped off, running back towards Cal, buzzing with glee.

“That is BD-1. He’s with us.”

“I don’t care who he’s with! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get oil stains out of potolli-weave fabric?”

Cal couldn’t think of anything less useful to know. “Not really,” he shrugged, going to stand by the steps since Greez was still guarding the sofa.

“I hope you found something better out there than this droid,” he said, pointing accusingly once more at BD.

“Oh, calm down Greez,” Cere said. It didn’t take much for Greez to get worked up and Cal had the distinct impression that Cere often had be the voice of reason before he got carried away. “Tell us what you found Cal.”

“The Vault was built by an ancient civilisation called the Zeffo. A Jedi called Eno Cordova was here to study it I guess. Your master?” Cere nodded, eagerly awaiting what else Cal had discovered. “You were right. He hid a holocron from the archives inside containing a list of Force-sensitive children and their locations.”

“The next generation of Jedi. I knew it!” Cere actually laughed with excitement. “Ah Cordova you old fool.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” he asked, remembering those echoes of loneliness he’d brushed against.

“Many years ago. Before the war. He was… a loner. That little droid and I are probably the only ones that knew him well. And we’re certainly the only ones who he ever told of this planet.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Greez interrupted, holding up all four hands. “A holo-what?”

“A holocron,” Cere said patiently. “It stores information, but it’s only accessible to Jedi. Hang on, I think I’ve got one around here,” she said, already heading past Cal to her cabin. While she was gone, Greez turned his attention back to the sofa, making sure BD hadn’t ruined it.

She reappeared a few moments later, holocron in hand. It had been many years since Cal had seen one last. Master Tapal only had a few on the Brave and he’d never been allowed to touch them. “Here,” she said, tossing it to Cal.

He caught it instinctively and immediately wished he hadn’t as cold dread washed through him. “This is General Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to inform you that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen.” The world crumbled to ash around her. How could this happen? What was she going to do now? How could she keep everyone safe?

“Cal?” Cere’s voice broke through. He blinked at her for a moment, trying to remember who and where he was. It was always disorienting seeing the subject of an echo appear in front of him like this. His chest hurt. He was breathing too fast, panic still gripping him. Both Cere and Greez were watching him.

“You alright there kid?” Greez asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m okay,” he forced out, fighting to regain control of his breathing.

Cere bent down to pick up the dropped holocron. “Want to try again?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, holding it out to him.

Cal shied away, like the cool metal and glass was molten. It wouldn’t be as powerful a second time, but it still wasn’t something he wanted to brush against. “No, I’m good,” he said hurriedly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Cere narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t press, placing the holocron on the table. “Anyway, with the list of Force-sensitives in that Vault, we could rebuild the Jedi Order and defeat the Empire.”

“Okay no problem! Let’s get it,” Greez said, heading to the loading ramp.

“It’s not that simple,” Cal said, stopping the Latero short. “The holocron is hidden deep inside the Vault. To get it we have to follow Cordova’s path. He mentioned something about a Zeffo homeworld.”

“I’ll look into it. See if anything comes up on the holonet,” Cere said.

“Hold on,” he said as she turned towards the holotable. “Before we go anywhere, I need to know something. How come you’re no longer a Jedi?” It was a question that had been weighing on his mind since she first mentioned being a former Jedi. She was so certain of this quest, that rebuilding the Order was the right thing, but she had still turned her back on it. He needed to know why.

Cere’s eyes went wide, blinking fast. For a second he wasn’t sure she was going to answer, but something gave. “I had an experience that… changed my perspective,” she said, unable to maintain eye contact. “So, I cut myself off from the Force.”

“Not exactly an answer now, is it.”

“But you still want to rebuild the Order.”

“I believe that rebuilding the Order is the best chance we have against the Empire. What do you believe?”

“What’s left out there for me?”

“I can’t keep hiding from the Empire, so I don’t really have much of a choice,” he said wryly.

“Cal, as long as you’re alive you will always have a choice.”

“That’s a nice thought. How’s it working out for you?”

He let out a bitter laugh. It wasn’t much of a choice now, was it. Not with those Inquisitors hunting him down. If he left the Mantis now he might be able to get by on his own for a while, but he’d have to rely on strangers not recognising him and turning him in. He was under no illusion the Empire would catch up to him eventually, and he dared not imagine what might become of him then. Unfortunately, he was safest with these people, whether he really believed in this mission or not.

“Are you with us?”

Cal looked to BD, then back to Cere and Greez. It was just as well that he did believe in this mission. After so long hiding, he wanted to fight back and make a difference. “I’m in.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “I’ll see what I can dig up about Zeffo before we leave.”

“I was gonna make some food,” Greez said. “You hungry kid?”

He wasn’t, but one of the few times Greez actually relaxed was when he was cooking and he seemed to like it when Cal ate his food. “Sure,” he shrugged. “I’ll be in the back.”

“I’ll come get you when it’s ready. And take your droid with you,” he said, waving at BD dismissively. BD buzzed at him, surprising Cal with his colourful choice of words. He hadn’t expected the droid of a wise old Jedi Master to know such words, let alone use them. If he wasn’t sure Greez understood binary before, he was now since he didn’t so much as flinch.

“Come one. I’ll get you cleaned up. Make sure that patch job is holding up okay.”

Chapter Text

Cal half expected to wake to the low vibration of the engine. That was not the case, the ship disconcertingly still. He didn’t know what time it was, but he was willing to bet it was early. It would take more than a week of decent rest to fix his sleep schedule after years of waking up before dawn. Careful of his ribs, he sat up and rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes. BD was still sat charging on the workbench on standby mode. He wouldn’t wake up for another couple of hours yet, and Cal didn’t need him right now so left him to it.

Stepping out of the engine room, he was greeted by the dim overhead lights of the ship’s night cycle. Very early in the morning then. He padded through the ship to the common area, the blue light of early dawn bathing the room. He didn’t stop on his way through, throwing up a flimsy mental shield against the worst of the echoes as he went over to the door controls.

The ramp lowered and the door opened, a cool breeze blowing into the ship. Cal headed a little way down the ramp, sitting at the end of it. This side of the ship faced the rising suns, the edge of the horizon alight with an orange glow as the first sun rose. The world around him was still, the air cool and damp. Dew gathered on the grass where insects chirped, filling the air with their song.

Tentatively, he reached out to the Force, testing the waters. It too was calm, flowing gently like a stream, connecting him to his surroundings. Unlike yesterday, he did not try to meditate or deepen the connection. This close to the ship he needed to play it safe, but he was content to wrap it around himself like a blanket. He’d missed it these last few years, an absence he’d felt keenly early on before it had scabbed over, and he’d shoved the memory of it deep down. Now that he’d connected with it again he never wanted to be without it.

He sat on the ramp for a long time, watching as the twinned suns crept higher into the sky, painting the clouds brilliant shades of gold and orange. There was a third sun yet to rise, but Cal knew it wouldn’t appear for quite some time yet. It was the wrong time of year for all three to rise at the same time. Maybe he’d be able to come back and see it one day.

The door behind him opened with a quiet hiss, pulling Cal from his thoughts. He couldn’t sense anyone behind him, but the footsteps coming down the ramp told him it must be Cere. Now that he was paying attention, there was a disconcerting void in the Force where her presence should be. “I hoped I’d find you out here,” she said as she came down to stand beside him. “What are you doing out here?”

“We don’t have sunrises that often on Bracca. The clouds just go from black to grey. I wanted to see it before we left.” From what Cere had said last night, Zeffo was a rocky planet with frequent storms, not unlike Bracca. He doubted he’d see much of the sun there either.

Cere hummed softly. “You’ll get to see a few more here yet.”

Cal took his eyes off the horizon to look up at her. “We’re not leaving today?”

“The Empire has some kind of ongoing operation on Zeffo. I want to do some more digging so we know what to expect. It’ll take another couple of days at least. Maybe more.”

“Don’t see why you can’t do that on the way,” he muttered, turning back to the horizon.

“Are you in a hurry to leave?” she asked, not unkindly.

“No, I… doesn’t matter.” He wrapped his arms across his chest, ignoring the ache in his chest. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“You could try to take it easy, get some rest.”

“Ugh, that’s all I’ve been doing since you rescued me.” He was already on the brink of mind numbing boredom. If he had to spend one more day trapped on the Mantis he might just snap.

“Fair enough,” she laughed lightly. “Since I can’t make you do anything, feel free to explore if that’s more your speed. Take BD-1 with you. I bet he has some interesting things to show you.” Now that he could get on board with. He’d have to be careful because of his still healing injuries, but there wasn’t too much danger around and if he was aimlessly wandering around he could probably avoid climbing altogether. His ribs were not happy with him after yesterday’s exertion.

“Greez will be up soon,” Cere said as she headed back up the ramp. “Breakfast will probably be about half an hour.”

Cal gave an absent hum, his gaze fixed once more on the sunrise. He wasn’t hungry but the Latero kept  insisting he at least try to eat something at meal times. Maybe if he headed out before he appeared he could avoid harassment. A few minutes after Cere left, Cal got up and headed back to the engine room.

BD finished charging not long after Cal got dressed, greeting him with an excited beep. He hadn’t been able to charge that quickly in a very long time and was now good to go for at least a week. “That’s great buddy,” he said, patting his head. “We’re going to be sticking around Bogano for a little longer so I was thinking we could go exploring, get away from the ship while we can.” BD gave an enthusiastic whistle before hopping onto Cal’s shoulder, telling him about some of the places they could go.

Cal’s plan to avoid Greez very nearly succeeded. He’d almost made it to the door when Greez came in to the common area. “Morning Cal,” he said, heading for the kitchen.

“Caught in the act.”

“Uh, morning,” he replied over his shoulder. Maybe if he was quick enough he could slip outside before it was too late.

“Woah, where do you think you’re going?” Greez asked, stopping him in his tracks.

“Out?” he said, hand half-raised to the controls.

“Have you eaten already?”

“No.”

“N- yeah.” Even to his own ears it sounded more like a question.

“Sure you did.” He folded both pairs of arms, narrowing his eyes. “Sit your ass down kid.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Greez somehow managed to scowl at him harder, flicking an ear. “My great grandma taught me that everyone should have three square meals a day and I’ve never known her to be wrong.”

Cal shrugged helplessly. “You’re just wasting food on me. It doesn’t matter what you make, I won’t be able to eat it.”

“You don’t like my food or something?” he asked, a slight edge of hurt to the words.

“No! It’s great, really,” he said quickly, afraid he’d accidentally offended him. Greez’s food was amazing; Cal was the problem. “It’s just… too much, I guess. Makes me feel ill. I’ve gotten used to getting by on maybe two ration bars a day and some polystarch if I can afford it. Not... actual food.”

The fight drained from Greez, his folded arms dropping. “Fine. You gonna come back for lunch?”

“Probably not.” He’d settled into a rhythm of only eating dinner, and even that was often a struggle.

“Wait there. Don’t go anywhere,” he said, turning to rummage through various cabinets. Cal did as he was told, standing in the middle of the deck while Greez puttered about. BD shifted on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at what he was up to, but he was mostly hidden behind the table. He briefly left for the cabins, returning a moment later with a small pack. “Here, take this,” he said when he was done, placing the pack on the table.

“What’s in it?” he asked as he leaned over the sofa to grab it.

“Just a few things in case you change your mind. You’re not leaving without it, you hear me.”

“I hear you,” he said, shouldering the pack as he headed for the door. “Thanks Greez.”

“Don’t mention it. You be careful out there, alright kid.”

“Aye-aye captain,” he said, giving a lazy two-fingered salute as he stepped outside.

Cal had to admit, it was nice having the chance to explore for the sake of it. There was no purpose to where he went, no goal to achieve. He happily followed BD when his new friend led him, going from one thing to the next at their own sedate pace. They wound their way through some of the outer buildings and lesser used tunnels, stopping whenever BD wanted to show him something. Most of it of it wasn’t all that interesting unless you were an explorer droid, but Cal enjoyed seeing what he had to share nonetheless.

They carefully avoided the main areas where Cordova had lived. Cal wasn’t too keen on brushing against those echoes, but the ones further out were sparse and tended to be weaker. When the voices called him to bear witness he didn’t put up much of a fight. He was curious about the man who had set him on his current path, and these ones weren’t likely to be too personal. He didn’t get much from them, just an unshakable belief in what Cordova had been doing here with an ever-present undercurrent of loneliness.

Despite taking it slow, Cal still needed to rest around midday. The third sun had finally risen in the clear blue sky when he and BD made their way up to a grassy plateau. The Vault dominated the landscape, the only defining feature as the rest of the buildings were hidden behind the cliffs jutting up from the deep canyons. Even the Mantis with its enormous fin was obscured from view. Cal could believe he and BD-1 were the only sentient beings here. The Mantis could be gone and he’d be none the wiser.

He was struck yet again by just how isolated Bogano was. He hadn’t ever thought a place like it could even exist. It was the complete opposite of Bracca with its pollution and overcrowding. He’d rarely allowed himself to entertain the thought of leaving one day, but when he did, he envisioned himself heading to some dirty backwater town in the outer rim where the Empire’s grip wasn’t as strong. He had the skills of a scrapper, so that’s what he’d keep doing. He’d sometimes thought about becoming a mechanic, fixing up speeders and old droids. He had plenty of practice tinkering with Bracca’s scrap, mending things to sell for a few extra credits on the side, though he rarely had the time or energy most day. He’d never once thought he’d end up at a place like this, untouched and green.

With a contented sigh, he sat in the long grass while BD scanned a purple flower nearby. Despite the three suns in the sky, the temperature was pleasant. He rolled his sleeves up, letting the sunlight warm his pale skin. A cool breeze ruffled his hair, the grass swaying around him. The ground was dryer today so he didn’t have to worry about muddy water seeping through his trousers. He didn’t want to ruin his new clothes so soon after buying them by dragging them though the mud, so he’d worn his scrapper gear. It was ideal for exploring with its thick, reinforced padding and water resistant coating. It wouldn’t hold up to full immersion in water, but it was good enough to stand up to a shallow puddle.

BD seemed content to keep making scans, though to Cal it looked like he was trying to map every blade of grass. Maybe he was. Who was Cal to know the inner workings of a droid made to catalogue. While he did that, Cal searched the ground for a decently sized rock. He’d remembered how to use the Force to run along walls, something he’d never thought he’d get back. Maybe if he tried hard enough he could regain other lost abilities.

He spotted a stone about the size of his fist, half buried in the dirt. After a bit of digging, he wiggled it free and set it down in front of him. He stared at it, trying to recall his lessons on moving things with the Force. It wasn’t an ability that had come naturally to him, causing him no end of frustration. If he could just remember how he’d done it before…

He called on the Force, picturing in his mind the rock rising from the ground. Nothing happened, not even a wobble. Trying to not let it get to him, he gave it another go. And again, and again. The rock remained stationary no matter what he tried or how much he concentrated. It was like that aspect of the Force was blocked to him, a solid wall he couldn’t get through. With a frustrated sigh, he kicked the rock away.

“Useless.”

BD broke from his latest scan and whistled, asking if he was alright. “Yeah, fine,” he grumbled. He shouldn’t snap at his friend; it wasn’t his fault Cal was broken. “I can’t use the Force like I used to, but the others are counting on me. This whole mission to rebuild the Order will be pointless if I can’t even make a stupid rock float.”

For what it was worth, BD hadn’t seen anyone run along a vertical surface before so he must be doing something right. “I guess,” he said affectionately, patting his head. He was well aware that BD had no memories of anyone else. “I bet Master Cordova could do it easily,” he said bitterly.

Perhaps, BD admitted, but wasn’t it a little unfair for Cal to compare himself to a Jedi Master with decades of experience. “Maybe,” he grumbled under his breath, grabbing the pack from where he’d dumped it earlier. He wasn’t really interested in it, but he needed a distraction before his thoughts started spiralling.

He hadn’t checked what Greez had sent him off with, but it was mostly an assortment of small packets and a slightly squashed sandwich. He couldn’t tell what the filling was but it didn’t look particularly appetising, something dark and sticky oozing out the sides. He almost put it straight back in the pack but he couldn’t help but feel a little bad about it. If he didn’t eat it then it would likely go straight in the trash. Wasting food had never sat well with him. He’d gone too many days without anything just to keep a roof over his head, wishing he had enough credits for even one ration bar. Greez didn’t have to make it for him, but he had anyway.

Deciding to at least try it, Cal unwrapped the thin plastic from the sandwich. Before he could so much as sniff it BD was scanning it. Cal held it out for him to get a better look. Whatever results he found he kept to himself, settling down beside Cal in the grass when he was done without so much as a beep. Cal distracted himself a little longer by experimentally squishing one corner, watching as the sticky brownish filling oozed out. It wasn’t the most appetising thing he’d seen, but there was no reason he couldn’t give it a go.

He felt ridiculous having to psych himself up to take a bite. It was an odd balance of savoury and sweet, leaving a oily residue on his tongue. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable either. He chewed for a long time before swallowing, briefly contemplating just spitting it out. When nothing bad happened, he took another bite. As much as he hated to admit it, Greez was right. If he was going to go up against the Empire, he’d need more energy than half a meal and a couple of ration bars a day could give him.

It wasn’t like scrapping was easy work, but a lot of it involved staying in one place for a long time, cutting and dismantling in one area once he’d climbed his way up. Fighting was a different kind of exertion, and he couldn’t rely on the Force to keep himself alive like last time. His connection was still weak, and counting on adrenaline and sheer terror was a good way to get killed.

With very little in the way of an appetite, eating was a struggle and took longer than it really should. But eventually he finished the sandwich and tried to convince himself he felt better for it. Mostly he just felt nauseous, the idea of trying any of the other things Greez had given him turning his stomach. Those at least would keep for another day. He shoved the scattered snacks back into the bag along with the plastic wrap and tossed the whole thing aside.

To distract himself from the nausea, he took a few deep breaths and picked at the blades of grass. There wasn’t much else to do out here other than head back down to Cordova’s workshop but he didn’t want to go back inside just yet. After so many years living under the constant cover of cloud, it was a luxury to be able to just sit in the grass and enjoy it. He would miss Bogano when it came time to leave. Maybe, if this mission succeeded and they came out of it alive, they could rebuild the Jedi Order right here. It was hidden from the Empire and already had plenty of infrastructure built, even if it did need some maintenance.

The warmth of the suns on his skin and the sound of the grass swaying in the breeze gradually lulled him into a sense of peace. He let his eyes close, tilting his head up to the sky as he tentatively reached out to the Force. He wasn’t foolish enough to try to meditate properly, not with BD-1 so close. But he could connect to it in other ways. Instead of sinking into it and losing himself, he pulled it around himself like he had that morning. He allowed his consciousness to expand just enough to feel the Force flowing through his surroundings but no further. Every living thing in his vicinity became a point of light in his mind, an expansive field of life encompassing him.

“Get away! You’ll only mess it up,” a voice said, doubt seeping in through the admittedly large cracks. Cal sighed. He’d been having such a quiet day. The voices had mostly stuck to banal observations and comments throughout the morning while he wandered. Easily ignored. The peace could never last though.

“It’s easy to break things. Much harder to put them back together.”

Before they began to snowball, Cal pictured a door in his mind, shoved the voices through, and forcefully closed it. They still whispered in the back of his mind, but as long as he focused on the Force he hoped to stay in control. He couldn’t let them win, not when so much was resting on his shoulders. The future of the Order depended on him being able to not let the voices win.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” they snarled, breaking through his feeble defences.

“Stop it,” he said through gritted teeth. Shoving them back through the door wasn’t working. They kept coming in through the cracks like poison gas. Suffocating. Choking.

“Look at what you’ve done,” they hissed as visions of Master Tapal dying in front of him flooded his mind. “This is your fault.”

“No!” he cried, ripping himself back to reality. He blinked several times, trying to get his bearings while his heart pounded against his ribs. He wasn’t there, backed into a corner, familiar blasters pointed at him, his master dying. BD bumped his head into Cal’s side, giving a worried beep. Cal rested his trembling hand on his head, cool metal helping to keep him grounded.

“Damn it,” he hissed, scrubbing away the tears before they could fall with his sleeve. He’d hoped if he stayed on the surface of the Force it would be better. Maybe it was. The backlash wasn’t as intense as yesterday, but still enough to leave him rattled. The grass around him still danced in the breeze so there was that he supposed. Small improvements, but it wasn’t good enough. How was he supposed to help rebuild the Order if he couldn’t even meditate.

“We should go soon,” he said, no longer wanting to sit with his thoughts. BD gave a concerned whistle. “I’ll be alright.” Still shaking, he grabbed his pack and headed back down into the labyrinth of tunnels below.

Cal didn’t return to the Mantis until long after the third sun had set. The sky above was dark and nearly cloudless. He’d meant to return sooner, but he’d gotten distracted by the stars shining above; another rare sight on Bracca. Sure he’d seen them when they stopped at the station, but it was a different experience altogether while planetside, gazing up at the lights twinkling through the atmosphere, each one a distant Sun. He didn’t recognise any of the constellations, but he hadn’t expected to, not this far away from the Core. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of them were home to other surviving Jedi, scattered and in hiding, waiting for some kind of signal.

When he did finally make it back to the Mantis, he found Cere waiting on the ramp for him. “I was beginning to worry something had happened,” she said, her tone clipped.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright, but maybe tomorrow you should take a comm with you. Just in case something does happen.” BD piped up to say that he could always come and get help if Cal needed it. “Be that as it may, sometimes you might not be able to leave him. Better safe than sorry. Come on, Greez made dinner.” She nodded her head to the door, turning to head inside the ship.

“We’re not leaving?” Cal asked, following up the ramp.

“Not yet, no.”

“How come? There can’t be that much more info on Zeffo. It’s going to take us a few days to get there anyway.”

“Two reasons Cal. One, the Empire doesn’t know what we’re up to yet. As far as they know we’re just a ship who helped a Jedi escape on Bracca. Treasonous, but not dangerous. The second is that we’re safe here. No one can find us. But as soon as we arrive on Zeffo there’s a very good chance we’ll be recognised and they’ll start tracking us more closely. I have no idea where Cordova’s path will take us, so it’s best if we take the chance to rest while we can. There’s no point sending you out on a mission with broken ribs when we have plenty of time for you to heal.”

“You broke your ribs?” Greez asked from the galley, ladle frozen in the air on its way to an empty bowl.

“Happened on Bracca. No big deal,” he said, shrugging with a wince. As much as he hated the thought of having to sit idle until Cere deemed him ready, he couldn’t deny her logic. There was no point in throwing himself into a fight when the odds were already against him. Better to wait until the pain went away. One less thing to have to manage.

“You’ll need all the help you can get.”

“Was that before we rescued you?” Greez asked, breaking out of his shock to remember he was supposed to be serving their dinner.

“During,” Cal said taking the seat at the end of the kitchen table. “I fell a few times, but like I said, it’s nothing. I’ve worked with worse.”

A stunned silence fell within the ship, almost reverberating in the Force. “What?” he said when Cere refused to meet his eyes.

“How much worse are we talking?” Greez asked nervously as he handed out the bowls, filled with some kind of meat, beans and small cubes of vegetables, a smoky aroma rising with the steam.

Cal mulled the question over for a moment. There had been plenty of incidents, both in the shipbreaking yard and in the city itself. “Well, there was that one time I fell through the floor of a Venator,” he began, deciding on one of the less gruesome injuries he’d sustained, poking at the food with his spoon. It was too hot to eat just yet, which was just as well since he wasn’t sure he was hungry.

“Must’ve been about three years ago now? The floor had rusted to nothing, but the lights hadn’t been set up inside yet so I didn’t notice. I fell right through and landed a couple decks below. I broke three ribs where I landed,” he said, pointing along his right side.

“And you worked like that?”

“Oh, yeah. We were on a tight schedule at the time to clear the yard for another incoming ship which meant back to back shifts until the job was done. This was back when a shift was only eight hours. We had to keep going until the job was done or we passed out.”

Greez was already wincing before he asked his next question. “Only eight hours? How long did it get?”

“First they upped it to ten hours, then twelve. Now it can be up to sixteen hours in one shift. Doubles can last a full day.”

“Is that legal?” he asked, outraged.

“Sure. It’s not like the Empire gives a shit. They only care that the remains of the Republic are gone, not how it gets done.”

“Try it now. It’s a little cooler.”

Feeling brave, he shoved a spoonful of the food in his mouth. As with most of Greez’s cooking, it tasted amazing. He only wished he was able to stomach the whole thing instead of picking at it. “That still wasn’t as bad as that time someone pushed me off the top of an Acclimator.”

“Someone pushed you off an Acclimator?” Cere repeated like she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that was a few months earlier. Karking hurt like hell, but I was mostly pissed off about the fact that it didn’t even have anything to do with me. My friend Tabbers had managed to piss the guy off, and since no one could beat Tabbers in a fight, I guess he thought he could get payback by killing me. He waited until I was working above the Maw and everything. Was probably hoping I’d fall right in so there wouldn’t be a body left to find, but the idiot forgot I had a safety line, so I was left dangling about half way down to the ground. Which would have been fine, but then he cut the line and I fell the rest of the way. Wasn’t enough to kill me but I broke my ribs and my arm, which meant I couldn’t work for a week.”

“Just one week?” Greez asked.

Cal shrugged, taking another bite. “I was only off that long because I couldn’t move my arm at all, but even that was too long. I could barely afford rent for the next two months since I was so behind. The only upside was that Tabbers knew who did it so he got demoted to hazmat and I never saw him again. He’s probably dead by now.”

“They didn’t pay you while you were recovering?” Cere asked, resolutely ignoring the last comment.

Cal scoffed. “As if. The guild doesn’t give handouts. You have to work to get paid, simple as that.” He took another bite of his food, chewing it slowly.

Neither Greez nor Cere said anything else, both picking at their food rather than eating it. That stifling silence had returned, awkward and heavy. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.”

After several long seconds, Cere cleared her throat. “Did you find anything interesting in Cordova’s workshop?”

“Not really,” he said, grateful for the change in conversation. Some of the tension eased up, but a cloud still hung over them. “We only went around the outer buildings today. Not much there except spare parts and a back-up generator.”

“I doubted you’d find anything. If it was important, he would have taken it with him.”

“Where do you think he went?”

“I’m not sure. I last heard from him before the Clone Wars. He didn’t say where he was going.”

“Do you think he survived the Purge?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but if he was found I’m not sure he would have survived.”

“Okay, new rule,” Greez announced. “No talk about depressing stuff at meal times. You can do that on your own time when I don’t have to listen to it.”

That rubbed Cal the wrong way. He’d just been trying to talk a little about himself. It wasn’t his fault Greez probably considered his entire life depressing. Those incidents on Bracca weren’t even the worst ones by a long shot. “Fine,” he said, stabbing at a chunk of meat, watching as it split. If Greez wanted to ban talk of things that upset him then he could go right on ahead. It just meant there was very little Cal could talk about.

He ate what he could of his food in silence, tension hanging heavy in the air. If Cere and Greez said much, he didn’t notice, stuck listening to the now agitated voices. They nagged at him, trying to rile him up. All he could do was sit there and try not to react. Cere might know he could hear things now, but that didn’t mean he wanted to give her a demonstration. Eventually he had enough and excused himself, retreating to the engine room.

He sat heavily on the bed, BD hopping up beside him. Away from the influence of the ship’s echoes his head cleared a little. He let out a weary sigh. What use was he going to be when he couldn’t even handle getting a little irritated. BD asked if he was alright since he’d been so quiet at dinner.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. Just found another thing I’ve got to work on along with everything else I guess.” Whatever it is, BD chirped, he’ll figure it out. Cal gave him a tired smile. “Thanks buddy.”

Chapter Text

After leaving Bogano behind, Cal was glad to touchdown on Zeffo. Travelling was a special kind of hell between the inescapable barrage of echoes and sheer boredom of being stuck in one place. The addition of BD to their crew made things a little more interesting. The little menace had decided his new hobby was annoying Greez as much as possible. On the few occasions Cal had ventured out of the engine room, it had been fun to watch the Latero lose his cool over the tiny droid causing chaos.

The landing had been rough, the strong winds threatening to dash them against the rocky spires on their way down. Greez, with some careful manoeuvring, managed to get them to the ground in one piece and they’d all given a collective sigh of relief. The wind still rocked the Mantis, but they were no longer in danger of crashing.

Cal wasted no time in heading out into the storm, following a narrow winding path up the cliffs. Zeffo wasn’t anything like Bogano, but it held it’s own kind of charm. Bogano was serene with its flat, expansive plains and clear skies, barely changing over eons. Zeffo was the opposite with its ragged landscape, the ever-present storm tearing at the rocks, driving it to evolve. Everything was cast in shades of grey, the terrain too rocky for anything but moss and lichens to grow, clinging to every surface they could.

BD was in his element, scanning their surroundings as Cal trekked up the path, chirping whenever he found anything of particular interest. Cal was happy for him; it must be nice to have new things to add to his databank after all this time. He was built for exploration after all.

Eventually he made it to the other side of the mountain separating the landing pad from the rest of the area. Along the ridge stood dozens of windmills, though only half looked to be operational. A small village was nestled in the valley below, little more than a few clusters of small buildings. Beyond that, behind the distant mountains stood a towering monument, its shape familiar.

“Does that look like a Zeffo to you?” he asked, pointing it out to BD. The droid climbed up a little higher on his shoulder to get a better look, confirming that its silhouette matched the murals they’d found inside the Vault. “Guess that’s where we’re heading then.”

The path down to the village was treacherous. The wind clawed at Cal, trying to push him over the edge of the cliff while the uneven ground did its best to trip him up. On the way down, they encountered several signs giving vague warning about trade being banned and that trespassers would be shot on sight. As he approached, he noticed that the village looked abandoned, though only recently. The buildings still looked to be in decent shape; there was simply no one around.

When he finally reached the village, he could feel the tell-tale pull of strong echoes, the Force crawling under his skin. The people may be gone, but their ghosts remained. It looked like the only way to get to the Zeffo monument from here was to go through, so with a heavy sigh Cal put up his mental shields and headed in.

“Come see what I found.”

As he wandered around, Cal noticed some of the doors had eviction notices bolted to them giving some bantha-shit excuse for why the residents had to leave. He didn’t need to look at the echoes to know it was all fake, something about a gas leak due to a collapsed mine nearby. The Empire had wanted these people gone, so they invented a reason to make them move.

“We have to go. There’s no time.”

Echoes stuck to belongings left behind in the rush to leave. A particularly strong pull drew him towards the middle of the street, whispers of fear and sorrow curling around his mind. He took the long way around to steer clear of it. It might be something relatively harmless like someone running away, upsetting but not the worst thing he’d witness. Just as likely it was someone getting shot in the head for taking too long. It wasn’t a risk worth taking.

“Move! Now!”

BD ran ahead, blissfully unaware of the horrors surrounding them, scanning what he could and reporting his findings back to Cal as they wandered around. Cal wondered if Master Cordova had passed through here or if he’d been able to take a different route. He wouldn’t have had the Empire to contend with so maybe he’d been able to go straight to his destination. At least he’d known what he was supposed to be looking for. “Zeffo tomb” wasn’t exactly descriptive. He had no idea if the monument he was heading for was even related or just a fancy bit of architecture. This had been their homeworld after all; it was probably covered in ancient structures.

“In here! Quickly!”

Cal trailed after BD as he explored, doing his best to not lose himself to the voices. The door leading inside a small home had been left ajar. BD, unable to help his curiosity, headed inside. Cal followed, despite the noise within. Echoes prickled his skin, clawing at his mind even through the barrier he was trying to maintain.

Whatever happened here, the residents clearly left in a hurry. Personal possessions lay strewn about, a meal abandoned at the table. “Come see,” a voice whispered in the back of his mind as he followed the pull towards a particularly strong echo. Swept out by the tide, he was unable to resist. “What happened here?”

The Force led him through to a small room at the back of the house. A small bed stood in the corner, drawings scrawled on the walls, a collection of toys scattered across the floor. Cal knelt down, passing a hand over the toys, trying to pick out the echo that had brought him here. They all had memories attached to them, but none were very strong. Skimming the surface, he felt faint traces of happiness. Pleasant, but nothing noteworthy.

“Here!”

“You found it!”

The Force lurched when his fingers hovered above a small stuffed animal. He couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be as it was lying face down in a pile of floppy limbs and worn brown fur. This was the echo he’d been drawn to. The impression it gave off told him very little, but he didn’t think it would be too intense, so he picked it up, wanting to know what had happened here.

There was shouting outside, getting louder. It sounded like Papa but scared. Papa was never scared. Mama came running in not long after, heading straight for him. “Mama? What’s wrong?”

“We have to go little one,” she said as she scooped him up, settling him on her hip. Tuffy fell from his hand to the floor. He tried to grab her, but he was too slow.

“Tuffy!” he cried.

Mama didn’t stop like she normally did, rushing straight back out the door. He didn’t understand what was going on. Why was everyone so scared?

Cal came back to the present gradually, surfacing through a handful of lesser echoes. When he fully returned, he found himself rubbing Tuffy’s fur between his fingers. She was soft and clearly well loved. He doubted that boy would ever see her again. His mother had been in such a rush; there had been no time to grab anything aside from the essentials.

BD gave a curious bwoop, asking if Cal was alright. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough. He coughed to clear his throat, trying to dislodge the sadness that wasn’t his own. BD had seen him live through a few echoes by now, so he had some understanding of what Cal was doing when he went completely unresponsive. That didn’t mean he could tell how Cal was doing after surfacing though.

Cal got back to his feet and went to the small bed. He sat Tuffy upon it, making sure she was looking at the door. That was how the boy’s mother would leave her, so when her son returned she would be waiting for him. It felt right, even if that family never returned.

“Come on,” he said to BD, turning his back on the room. There were more echoes here and Cal couldn’t deny he was curious now, the mystery gnawing at him, encouraged by the Force. He would have to be picky over what he chose to witness, trying to strike a balance between what would be strong enough to show him something useful, and not go too far into “knock him on his ass” territory.

“Stormtroopers are coming. We have to leave,” he said, bursting through the front door. They had already started rounding up their neighbours. They had minutes, if that.

Eliina was stood in their cramped kitchen, but turned as soon as he entered the room. She dropped what she was doing and went to their bedroom, grabbing what she could. They’d talked about this. She knew what to do.

“They knew they would have to leave eventually,” Cal said to BD. “They hoped they’d have more time before the stormtroopers came.”

The house wouldn’t give him many answers beyond what he’d already pieced together so he went back outside, unconsciously following the path the man planned to take as his family made their escape. Eventually he came to a split in the path. To the right lay the mountain, a narrow pass that wound through to the far side towards the nearest town. The path to the left looped back around to the village. There was an echo here, but Cal couldn’t quite tell where it was since there wasn’t anything obvious lying around. He took a step forward, only to walk right into it.

“There’s too many of them. We’ll be spotted,” she said, turning to her husband. In her arms Trin pressed his face against her neck. She moved her hand from his back to his hair, offering what little comfort she could while her heart beat rapidly against her ribs.

“You go on ahead. I’ll cause a distraction.”

“Herik no.”

“Get Trin out of here. He can’t end up in one of those camps.”

She wanted to argue, to scream and rage against the circumstances they found themselves in, but it would do them no good. He was right; they had to make sure their son was safe. Herik took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead before doing the same to Trin. With a final, longing look, he turned and ran back towards the village. She took a step towards him, wanting to go with him or stop him she wasn’t sure. Instead, she made herself stop and watched her beloved disappear into the dark.

Cal’s head was starting to feel fuzzy. He shook his head, trying to dispel it. BD asked if he was alright from where he was perched on Cal’s shoulder. “They split up,” he said distantly. “The Empire was rounding everyone and sending them to labour camps. They didn’t want their son to end up there.”

BD gave a sad whirr. The Empire had destroyed so many lives in this village alone. How many countless villages across the galaxy had they done the exact same thing? “We should go,” he said, pulling himself from his melancholy. The echoes pressed around him, but he didn’t need to see any more to know what happened.

Cal took the path to the left, the one that wound up and through the mountain, leading him through some kind of mine. There were fewer echoes here and despite the voices in his head urging him to reach out, he ignored them.

Once on the far side of the mountain he could see several sets of horizontal mining equipment fixed to the side of a cliff. He could feel as much as hear the percussive rumble as it repeatedly slammed into the solid rock, slowly chipping away at it. The Empire was looking for something here too. Maybe they knew where the tomb was. If so, he hoped he wasn’t too late to find what Cordova left behind.

“Kriff, I hope we’re not too late.”

The winding path eventually led him to the base of another Zeffo monument, though not the one he’d seen in the distance. It resembled the figures he’d seen on Bogano, tall and thin, wearing robes and with a wide, ridged head. The Force didn’t sing here like it had in the Vault so he doubted this was the place he was looking for, but he must be close. If he concentrated he could feel a faint pull, similar to the one that had led him to the Vault. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but he must be going in the right direction.

He was grateful his ribs had healed to the point where he could pretend they were just bruised, mostly thanks to the stim BD had given him which had given his body a boost. Climbing around the monument didn’t give him too much grief. He was used to working in pain after all.

He eventually found himself staring into the inky black of an Imperial station built into the rock. The place seemingly abandoned, much like the village with no sign of anyone around. BD lit the way with his torch as Cal headed inside. There weren’t any echoes here but that didn’t mean the Force was calm.

“Damn Imps. Ruinin’ everything they touch.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that.” Unexpectedly, BD jumped off his shoulder, having spotted something interesting. “What is it?” Cal asked as his light source ran away. His friend hopped up onto what looked like a control panel. Cal had managed to find a spare scomp in a box of scraps Greez kept on the Mantis and replaced BD’s busted one which he now jammed into the port. While he sifted through the files, Cal ignited his lightsaber and had a look around. While this station itself was quiet, Cal could still hear the thunder of the pulverisers not far away. It reverberated through the entire cavern, a faint tremble in the very rock, like a terrible heartbeat.

BD gave an excited beep, drawing Cal’s attention back to the control panel. The projection of a stormtrooper commander appeared before them. “In accordance with the Emperor’s will, we have occupied Zeffo, “redistributing” its inhabitants. This planet had failed to yield significant data or relics for Project Auger.”

The Emperor himself had ordered excavation here? Maybe they were in more trouble than they thought. If the Emperor knew about the tomb’s significance, maybe he also knew about Bogano and what lay within the Vault.

“We will not be able to fulfil our directive here. It is my recommendation that we disband the project and leave a token outpost to keep scavengers from stealing our technology,” the trooper said before the recording cut out.

Whatever skeleton crew had been left behind were clearly still searching for something. Or maybe they just wanted to make a show of power by smashing the ancient mountain to rubble. Either way, they were likely bored, and boredom made a soldier dangerous.

“Come on BD,” Cal said, holding out his arm for him to climb back up.

It didn’t take them long to reach the pulverisers, following the thunderous noise through the mountain. The path ended here with no clear way to cross.

“Any more bright ideas?”

The Force was telling him the tomb was just beyond here, calling to him. BD perched higher up on his shoulder, scanning the landscape beyond the pulverisers. There was definitely some kind of path on the far side, he reported, but he couldn’t see a way to get to it.

Cal only had one idea, but he didn’t know if he could pull it off. One wrong move and he’d be dead, either ground to a fine pulp or dropped into the choppy waters below. From this height he doubted he’d survive the impact if the rocks didn’t tear him to shreds first. He’d made it to the Vault though, despite having no idea if he could pull that off either. If anything this was better. He knew he could slow these machines down; he’d done it to save Prauf from the Maw.

“And look how that turned out.”

Cal violently shoved that line of thinking to the back of his mind. He couldn’t afford distractions now. The point was that he’d done it without thinking, relying on instinct. This time he was doing it with a purpose. “Here goes nothing. Hold tight BD,” he shouted over the noise.

BD ducked down, tightening his grip on Cal’s shirt. Cal closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calling on the Force, drawing it into himself. He held a hand out to the nearest pulveriser, focusing on its rhythm. Just as it reared back, engine ramping up to slam into the mountain, Cal reached out with the Force and caught it, picturing it freezing in place.

When no concussive slam came from it, he opened his eyes. It was still moving but just barely, crawling forwards at a fraction of its usual velocity. He couldn’t hold it for long, so he wasted no time in climbing on top of it. He repeated this for each one he came to until he was clear across the other side, thunderous rumbling resuming behind.

“Can’t believe that worked,” he said breathlessly. He could already tell he was going to pay for this later, the slight headache he’d picked up in the village working up to a significant pain that was hard to ignore. With no time to dwell on it he headed to the path BD pointed out, hopefully leading to the tomb.

Whoever the Zeffo were, they sure knew how to hide their tombs. Just as well he supposed, or else the Empire would have blown it wide open as soon as they set foot here. After sliding down an icy embankment, Cal found himself having to fight off a pack of large, vicious rodents BD identified as scazz in a subterranean network of tunnels. They kept crawling out of holes in the walls and floor, trying to surround and overwhelm him. They weren’t too tough to fight, but the cramped space made manoeuvring difficult. He kept catching the tip of his lightsaber on the walls, gouging molten lines into them.

When they finally emerged back into the light of day, muddy and tired but unhurt, they found themselves overlooking what was probably once a well-kept courtyard. A spire towered above them, similar in design to the Vault, a storm confined within its walls. “Find peace in the eye of the storm,” Cal muttered, repeating Cordova’s words in the Vault. “This has to be it.”

There was no direct way up to the spire, the walls too high and smooth to climb. There was however the remnants of a passage guarded by a large animal with three massive horns. It didn’t look particularly friendly. “Is it likely to want to kill us?” he asked BD as he cautiously approached, hoping the answer would be no.

BD went ahead, bravely scanning it while its back was turned. When he came running back, he told Cal it was a philak and was highly territorial. “Great,” he sighed. He kept his lightsaber in hand, just in case as he tried to sneak past it. There wasn’t much room between it and the wall, but if he could just get a little further he could probably make a run for it. The cavern opening didn’t look big enough for it to follow him so he should be safe so long as there weren’t more scazz lurking inside.

Something snapped underfoot, drawing the philak’s attention to him. “Run.”

Cal didn’t need telling twice, already legging it for the cavern as the philak began to charge. He narrowly avoided being crushed against the wall as it slammed its head into the rock. Amazingly it didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the force of the impact, giving its head a slight shake before lining up to charge again. Cal ducked inside the cavern and kept running, no longer trusting the wall to hold under the philak’s assault.

He was right to be cautious. It broke through, chunks of rock flying through the air. It only stopped when Cal jumped up on a higher ledge, inaccessible to the raging philak below. It paced back and forth, enraged that Cal had managed to escape. He let out a nervous laugh, trembling with adrenaline but ultimately unharmed. “You good back there?” he asked BD. He received an excited series of beeps in response.

Leaving the philak behind Cal followed the cave, fighting against the howling wind that pushed against him from the storm ahead. When he emerged from the other end, he was met with lightning and debris, thrown around by the fierce wind circling the tomb’s entrance. Beyond it he could see a platform but there was no way to get to it without jumping the gap.

The debris flying around made it an even more dangerous manoeuvre, but this was hardly Cal’s first time running around in strong winds. He’d lost count of all the times he’d climbed a wreck without anything to keep him tethered. All it could take was one particularly strong gust of wind to dislodge a scrapper when they were several hundred meters in the air, clinging to the exterior of a star destroyer. Cal had gotten good at knowing his limits, and now he had the Force as his ally. If he was careful, and timed it right to avoid the flying debris, he could jump the gap and land on the platform below.

He backed up a few paces, telling BD to hold on tight. He watched the storm carefully, getting a feel for how fast the wind was moving and keeping an eye out for particularly large chunks of rock. He let himself sink into the Force, sharpening his senses.

“Now!”

He took off running, using the Force to give himself a boost as he jumped at an angle, anticipating the wind pushing him back. He landed on the platform unscathed, rolling to absorb the impact. With a jolt, ancient mechanisms whirred to life, bringing them to the tomb proper below ground.

Chapter Text

Whoever the Zeffo were, they sure did love to overcomplicate their tombs. Keeping track of time below ground was difficult, but as they returned to the surface BD informed him they’d been down there for the best part of two hours. Cal wasn’t entirely sure it had been worth it. He’d fought through scazz-infested tunnels, climbed over ruins and did his best to resist the urge to touch every echo he came across.

Cal wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping to find when he finally reached the burial chamber. An artifact or map perhaps. Something tangible he could take to Cere and show her as proof they were making progress. But it was empty.

While Cal tried not to listen to the voices telling him how much of a failure he was, BD unlocked another recording of Cordova. It wasn’t much to go on, just a mention of the Zeffo’s presence on Kashyyyk, and a Wookiee named Tarfful who Cordova knew. But it was a lead, if nothing else.

Leaving the tomb was far easier than getting in. Getting back to the lift was merely a matter of climbing back up to it. The storm raging above had fallen silent. The steadily growing disc of visible sky had cleared a little, the clouds more a light grey than nearly black, the wind no longer tearing at his clothes.

“Something’s still not right. Keep your eyes open.”

As much as Cal wanted to disregard the voice, gut instinct told him not to. Instead, he reached tentatively to the Force. It was unsettled, offering a vague warning of danger. It could just be that the philak that had chased him earlier was waiting for round two. But equally there might be a new threat lying in wait.

“There’s something up there,” he said to BD. He whistled in acknowledgement, adjusting himself so he had a better grip should Cal have to launch into a fight.

Cal took cover behind the towering wall as the lift came to a grinding halt. He risked peering around the corner at the courtyard below. Small figures in all too familiar white armour were spreading out, securing the area. The philak reared on its hind legs and let out a shrill cry, not taking kindly to invaders in its territory. This only drew the stormtroopers’ attention, raising their blasters.

“They’re going to kill it.”

“Poor thing doesn’t stand a chance.”

Faster than conscious thought, Cal was already scrambling down the remnants of the stony path, unlit lightsaber in hand. The troopers opened fire, most of their shots going wide, striking the stony pillars littering the ground. Those that didn’t struck the charging beast’s horns, leaving black scorch marks in their wake. Distracted, they didn’t notice Cal until it was too late.

He threw out a hand and reached for the Force, relying on pure instinct. The Force answered his call. The stormtroopers staggered as Cal shoved them off balance, a couple losing their footing and tumbling over. The philak closed the distance, colliding with a trooper with a sickening crunch, his body flying through the air before cracking on a pillar.

“Intruder! Up there!” one of them called, swinging his blaster around. Several streaks of red tore through the air, heading straight for Cal. In one fluid movement, he ignited his blade and deflected the bolts, returning them to the source.

“It’s coming.”

“What’s coming?” he asked. There was no reply, but the answer arrived all the same. The philak came barrelling through again, weaving between the ancient pillars. It crashed into the back of another trooper and trampled a second, too slow to move out of the way. It did not change its trajectory, heading straight for Cal.

With nowhere else to go, he threw himself to the side, rolling in the grass and narrowly avoiding being turned into a paste. With a crack, the philak collided with a wall, the impact reverberating through the ground.

“That was too close!”

“Shut it,” he growled under his breath as he got back to his feet. The last thing he needed right now was another distraction. The stormtroopers were reorganising themselves, some aiming for the philak while it was still disoriented, the rest pointing their blasters at him.

“He’s a Jedi! Shoot to kill!”

Cal shoved them with the Force again, buying him precious seconds to close the distance when they stumbled. He made quick work of taking them down. They weren’t trained for close combat, and plastoid was no match for a lightsaber.

A shrill warning from BD drew his attention back to the philak. “Kriff.” Cal stood his ground as it charged, relying on the Force to tell him when to dodge. Too soon and it would pivot to follow him. Too late and… well, he’d rather not find out.

“Now!”

He leapt to the side, able to stay on his feet this time as the philak went sailing past. Cal didn’t wait to see where it went, already running for a way out. He couldn’t leave the way he’d come, but BD had spotted a potential exit through another cave. Hurry, he told Cal, informing him the philak was already preparing to charge again.

Cal was already running as fast as he could. He could see the cave entrance now, but it was several meters up the side of the cliff. No stranger to scaling walls, Cal quickly found a foothold and began pulling himself up.

“Faster!”

The Force blared a warning, adrenaline sharp on his tongue. Channelling it into something useful, he scrambled up the wall far enough that he could grab the ledge. He tucked his legs in just as the philak collided, nearly shaking him lose with the impact. Cal pulled himself up the rest of the way, rolling onto his back to catch his breath.

That was too close, BD whirred.

“You can say that again,” he laughed, patting his head. Below the philak let out another shrill cry before wandering away.

“Cal, can you hear me?” Cere’s voice said in his ear.

With an exhausted sigh, he reached for his commlink to answer. “Loud and clear.”

“Good. The disturbance from the storm has died down. I’ve been able to listen in on Imperial communications. You’ve been sighted.”

“I know. Had a run in with a few stormtroopers when I left the tomb.”

“Are you hurt?” she asked, a hint of worry carrying through.

“Just a little winded.”

“You should come back.”

“Yeah I was planning on it.” He eased himself upright, quickly checking he hadn’t picked up any injuries.

The line was silent for a couple of seconds before Cere carefully said, “Planning on what?”

“Heading back? You—” he cut himself off before he dug a deeper hole as he realised she hadn’t spoken. “Sorry, there’s still some interference.”

“If you say so,” she said. “Let me know if you come across any more trouble.”

“Will do.” The line fell silent, so Cal pulled himself to his feet. BD chirped at him, waiting at the entrance to the cave with his torch already lit. With one last glance down at the seemingly unharmed philak, Cal followed. It was winding and damp but large enough to pass through without difficulty. It was much easier work than trying to climb around ancient monuments and Imperial pulverisers, but it wasn’t exactly direct.

“Stop.”

Cal did as he was ordered, stopping dead in his tracks, fearing there was danger nearby. His hand went to his lightsaber as he reached out with the Force for any sign of a hidden threat. There was nothing there though. The Force itself was calm, but there was a familiar tugging in the back of his mind, imploring him to turn around.

There was a passage to his left, hidden in the dark. He had no idea where it led. BD asked why they stopped. “There’s something here,” he said absently, following the pull. The way back to the Mantis was the other direction, BD said. Cal knew this, but he needed to find the source of the disturbance.

“You’re getting closer.”

He followed the thread of the Force as the passage began to slope upwards. In the back of his mind, he knew this was a bad idea. He was already tired from the fight and climbing through the tomb. The headache he’d picked up from the echoes both in the village and in the tomb had built to a painful pressure in his skull, compounded by using the Force in an unfamiliar way. He was already well on the way to another migraine.

He should turn back and go the way BD told him to.

“Here.”

The echo’s pull was impossible to ignore, near suffocating in its strength. It wrapped around his mind, crawling under his skin in a way that made him want to claw at his arms. The only thing he could see was a scrap of cloth, torn and muddy, the Force coiled around it. All thoughts of resistance left his mind. He was more concerned about making the echo go away than any potential consequences. He didn’t hesitate to grab the scrap.

“Herik, where are you,” she muttered under her breath. She’d barely avoided the stormtroopers, keeping to the shadows as they forced their way into her neighbours homes, dragging them out in cuffs. She’d fled to the to the tunnels, but she couldn’t stay here for much longer. If she kept going, she would be able to make it to the town. Hopefully once there she could find a transport to take them off-world. She had no idea where to go, but anywhere had to be safer than here.

Trin sat in her lap, clinging to her neck. He’d been awfully quiet, perhaps sensing the gravity of the danger they found themselves in. She did what she could to comfort him, but she was preoccupied trying to keep watch for Herik. Where was he?

“She went this way,” the distant, modulated voice of a stormtrooper said, echoing through the cavern. Sickening fear lurched in her stomach, ice flooding her veins.

They’d followed her.

If she didn’t go now, they would be caught, and she would likely face execution for resisting. She couldn’t do that to Trin.

“I’m sorry Herik. Forgive me,” she breathed, pulling her son close and fleeing towards safety.

Cal found himself running, heart beating wildly in his chest with panic. BD was beeping at him, trying to get his attention. Cal stumbled to a stop, bracing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Ugh, that was a bad one,” he panted.

BD asked if he was alright, managing to sound concerned in binary. “Yeah. It was the woman from before, in the village. She fled through here with her son. Her husband was supposed to meet them, but he never turned up. She had to leave without him before the stormtroopers found her.”

Was that why he was running in the wrong direction, BD asked. Cal nodded. “The lines between me and echoes get a bit blurred sometimes. She was so scared.”

BD then asked if Cal was back to being Cal. “Yeah, I’m alright now,” he said, not mentioning the pain in his head heralding a migraine.

Good, BD chirped, because he’d prefer his Jedi get back to the Mantis in one piece. A pleasant feeling curled in Cal’s chest at being referred to as his Jedi. “Thanks bud,” he said, patting his head before offering him his arm to climb onto his back.

Luckily BD had been paying attention to where Cal was going and had kept track of where they needed to go. It didn’t take long to find the right way out and soon they were back in the abandoned village. Cal tried to throw up his mental barrier against the lingering echoes, but it barely made a difference, like a sheet of flimsiplast against a tsunami.

“Over here!”

“Hey, come see this!”

“Listen!”

He did his best to ignore them, half-wishing he’d brought his headphones to drown them out. He focused on the path ahead, forcing himself not to react when the talking sounded so real, an invisible crowd pressing in from all sides, abrasive against his mind.

A streak of red zipped through the air, a flash of scorching heat passing centimeters from his head. Too close. He had to get to cover.

Cal ducked on instinct, already dashing behind the nearest building. He risked peering around the corner, scanning the streets and rooftops. No one was there. BD asked what he was doing.

Cal looked at him in confusion. “Someone shot at us.”

BD confirmed that no blasters had been shot in their vicinity. “Oh,” he sighed, trying to let go of the tension he was now carrying. Fear turning to frustration, he rubbed at his eyes, his vision starting to waver. “It’s these damned echoes. The sooner we get out of here the better.”

The whole place was steeped in tragedy, battering Cal’s flimsy defences. He pressed on through the village, lightsaber in hand just in case. He went slowly, wanting to avoid walking into any more echoes by accident. The chaos the unexpected raid of stormtroopers had caused left a messy wake of fear.

There was that particularly strong one Cal was drawn to near the centre of the village, right in the middle of the street. He gave it a wide berth, gritting his teeth and focusing on where he wanted to go even as the voices screamed at him.

“Shut up,” he snapped. BD beeped gently back at him, but he couldn’t make out what he’d said through the noise. “Sorry buddy, not you,” he said, hoping he understood. He was almost through, just a few more buildings to pass and then he could get back on the path winding around the mountain to the landing pad.

Without warning, the whole world pivoted, the Force and the voices both yanking Cal in the opposite direction. Fear and adrenaline flooded his mind, everything else erased but the desperate need to run.

“You go on ahead. I’ll cause a distraction,” Herik’s voice said, cutting through the noise. Cal turned in the direction the disembodied voice had appeared to come from. There was another path leading down the cliffs. This was where he was going to run to give his family a chance to escape.

BD pinched his shoulder with his foot, trying to bring him back to reality. “Herik, the man from the echo. He went down there,” he said distantly, his voice not quite sounding like his own. He couldn’t tell from here if there was another echo waiting down the path, but his legs moved without his say.

BD asked where he was going, blaring in his ear loud enough now that Cal could hear him. “I know. I just… I need to know what happened.” His friend wasn’t convinced if the flat tone he let out was any indication.

“They’ll kill you if they find you.”

These voices didn’t belong to this place,

“I’m fast. They’ll have to catch me first.”

“Blaster bolts are faster.”

but it was a repeating pattern across time.

“There!” the collection of voices called, bringing Cal to an abrupt stop. Slightly dazed, he looked back the way he’d come. He could still see the branch in the path, so at least he hadn’t wandered too far. The echo burned against his skin, stronger than the others belonging to this family.

He could still walk away. He didn’t have to look; to find out what fate befell Herik.

“Go on. Reach out.”

Cal did what he was told.

There was never any light at night. Perpetual cloud cover prevented any light from the moon reaching the surface and there hadn’t been time to grab a torch, so he was running blind. He’d made it out of the village by the skin of his teeth, but the stormtroopers had spotted him. He could only hope they followed him instead of Eliina and Trin.

A rain of blaster fire nipped at his heels, melting the rock around him in a shower of sparks. He didn’t risk looking back. If he could make it to the bend just ahead, he would be out of their line of sight, and he might have a chance.

If he could just make it to the town—

Searing pain tore up his leg as a second round of fire lit up the night, bathing everything in red. He stumbled, falling hard against the cliff face. He tried to put his weight on his injured leg, but it was all he could do to hold back a scream.

This was it. He would never see his family again.

They should have tried to leave sooner.

“Stay where you are,” a modulated voice called out as a pair of troopers approached. He laughed humourlessly. Where else was he supposed to go? “Put your hands up. You’re coming with us.”

“Never,” he spat, lunging for the nearest trooper.

The world whited out, boiling pain exploding in his chest before it all faded to nothingness.

Cal fell to his knees, curling in on himself. Tears streaked his face as he clutched at his chest, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. He burned with the hole carved through him, yet somehow he was still alive.

BD let out a shrill whine, demanding to know if Cal was hurt. Yes, was his initial reaction. He’d just been shot, but Herik didn’t speak binary, let alone own a droid. “No,” Cal said, still struggling for breath. Some of the pain abated with the admission, reinforcing the distinction between himself and the echo. “Herik… he was shot. I can feel it, but I’m not injured.”

BD asked if a stim would help but Cal shook his head. “It’s not a wound medicine can heal. It’s not even mine.”

Not wanting to hang around this terrible place any longer, Cal struggled to his feet and headed back towards the landing pad, limping his way along the path as his leg reminded him that two shots had hit their mark. The voices still made it difficult to think, growing in ferocity the closer he came to the village.

“Almost there,” Herik’s voice said, his last echo apparently sticking around, clinging to him like oil. The last frantic thoughts of a doomed man.

It was a small mercy that he didn’t have to pass through the village again. His mental barrier had been thoroughly shredded, leaving him vulnerable to getting dragged into more until he was an incoherent mess. The pull lessened and the screaming ceased as he headed up the path towards the landing pad, leaving the village and its haunting past behind.

“Not much further.”

His chest was still burning horribly by the time he returned to the Mantis, Herik’s thoughts invading his head, overriding his own. He pressed a hand against the pain, hoping to make it go away. He almost wished his broken ribs still hurt, the tangible ache able to dislodge the phantom pain. “Don’t tell Cere or Greez what happened, alright?” he said to BD as they approached. The droid beeped back that he understood. No mention of echoes or psychometry from him.

Greez was puttering about in the galley when Cal limped up the ramp. With a glance towards the cockpit, he could see Cere sitting at the comms panel. “Woah, you alright there?” Greez asked when he caught sight of him.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice strained even to his own ears. “All good,” he added with an attempt at a half-smile. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. He couldn’t even stand up straight, the pain forcing him to curl in on himself a little.

“You don’t look it,” Greez said sceptically.

“Was it the stormtroopers?” Cere asked joining them now. She put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

He had to run. Had to get to Eliina.

Cal squeezed his eyes closed a moment, trying to block Herik out. “You said you weren’t hurt,” Cere fussed, taking in the fact that he still had his hand pressed to his chest.

“I… uh… ran into a philak on the way back. Or it ran into me I guess,” he lied, the joke falling flat as he winced.

“If that were the case you would’ve been flattened,” Cere said, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it was a baby. Didn’t exactly stop to get a good look at it,” he shrugged. There would be no convincing Cere, so before she could ask any more questions, Cal cut her off. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be fine. The important thing is that I found the tomb,” he said, trying to focus on the positives despite the warring thoughts in his head. “The Zeffo definitely used the Force.”

“An advanced civilisation of Force wielders who mysteriously vanished. No wonder Cordova became obsessed with them,” Cere said, allowing the change in conversation but keeping a close eye on him. “What else did you find?”

“Before they disappeared, the Zeffo journeyed to Kashyyyk.” Greez groaned at the mention of the planet. He didn’t know what had become of the Wookiee homeworld since the end of the Clone Wars, but the fighting there had been vicious. He couldn’t imagine the Empire had been any less relentless, not when it provided so many natural resources. “Cordova had a Wookiee friend named Tarfful. Maybe we could find him?”

“Kashyyyk, really?” Greez said. “Things are really bad down there. The Empire’s muscling in on those Wookiees big time.”

“Stormtroopers are coming. We have to leave.”

“We don’t exactly have another choice.”

“Cal’s right,” Cere said. “If that’s where Cordova wants us to go, then that’s where we go.”

Greez looked helplessly between them. “Alright fine. We’ll go to Kashyyyk. But if we get blown up you two owe me a ship.” He continued his grumbling as he headed to the cockpit. It was dangerous to stay here longer than strictly necessary, especially with the Empire now aware of their presence.

Within minutes they left the atmosphere and made the jump to hyperspace. Cal had opted for sinking onto the couch instead of dragging himself to the cockpit with the others. What he really needed was to lock himself in the engine room away from any echoes, but the pain was too much.

Herik’s memories still ran rampant through his head, getting the better of him when his concentration began to slip. His name was Cal. He was on the Mantis. He hadn’t been shot. He was still alive. He repeated this in his head like a mantra, trying to keep himself grounded.

Footsteps rang on the metal floor.

Kriff, they were right behind him. He had to run faster.

“Cal?” Cere said, startling him back into reality. The way she was watching him told him this wasn’t her first attempt at getting his attention.

“Hmm, yeah?” he said, absently rubbing his chest.

“Do you want some painkillers?” she asked, taking in his pitiful appearance.

Painkillers wouldn’t help for the same reason a stim wouldn’t. There was no wound so there was no pain to treat. Besides, their supply wasn’t exactly large to begin with. “No, I’m fine,” he said, easing himself up so he wasn’t quite so slouched, unable to hold back the exhausted groan that slipped from him.

Cere gave him a doubtful look. “Even a juvenile philak can do a great deal of damage and you’ve already broken your ribs recently.”

“BD gave me a stim earlier,” he lied.

Cere sighed and sat next to him. “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

Something complicated passed over her face, gone too quickly for him to parse before she schooled her expression into something more neutral. “You keep getting hurt and I’m not so sure you’re taking care of yourself. There’s no use throwing yourself at every danger you come across.”

“I know,” he said, feeling like a chastised Padawan.

“If you won’t take a painkiller, will you at least let me check you over? Make sure there’s no serious damage?”

Now that was a bad idea. She wouldn’t find anything beside the mostly faded bruises from Bracca. Certainly not an injury worthy of a philak headbutting him directly in the sternum. “If I take a painkiller, will you leave me alone?” he asked instead.

“I’ll accept that. Wait here.”

“Stay here, where it’s safe.”

“Piss off,” he grumbled under his breath, dragging a hand over his eyes. BD quietly beeped, trying to provide plausible deniability in case anyone overheard.

Cere reappeared a moment later, stopping in the galley to get him some water. She handed him the pills and he swallowed them down. He couldn’t help but think it a waste. They wouldn’t make a difference, but if it got her off his back... “Happy now?”

“No. But it’s a start,” she said. “Why don’t you go lie down. You’ll be more comfortable there than on the sofa.”

He couldn’t really argue with that, even if it meant having to endure the pain of moving. At least there he might be able to keep himself present. Cere offered him a hand up witch he gratefully accepted. She pulled him  to his feet as he stifled another groan, his other hand returning to his chest. His leg spasmed as he tried to put his weight on it, almost giving out under him. He wobbled as he tried to regain his balance, but Cere caught him, keeping him steady.

“Did you hurt your leg too?” she asked, looking him up and down for other hidden injuries.

“Rolled my ankle.” The lies tasted bitter on his tongue. He didn’t want to keep lying to her but what choice did he have? He wanted to trust her and have her trust him in return, but fear held him back.

He brushed her off and made a valiant effort to hobble through the ship on his own, BD trailing behind. He got as far as the first step up to the galley before a hand pressed against his back. His breath caught in his throat.

Stars no, they were going to catch him.

“Let me help,” Cere said.

Cal wanted to be strong so badly, to prove to himself that he was better than the echoes. They had ruled his life for so long he could barely remember a time when he’d lived without them. He wanted to be better, but despite all the progress he’d made repairing his connection to the Force, he was still left just as weak to them as before.

Reluctantly, he nodded to Cere, letting her wrap an arm around his back and helping him up the second step.

Chapter Text

His legs ached, lungs burning. The uneven ground shifted with every step. He flew along the path as fast as his body could carry him, relying on memory to guide him through the inky night.

Streaks of red were his only companion, lighting the way. A shower of sparks exploded when they hit solid rock, hot enough to burn. But he couldn’t slow down. The path stretched on forever. He could just make out the turn just ahead, but no matter how fast he ran, it never seemed to get any closer.

Fire raced up his leg, a scream clawing free of his throat. He crashed to the ground, but instead of dirt and gravel cutting his palms, his hands met cool, smooth metal. He blinked a few times, the oppressive night giving way to a dim corridor. The sound of blaster fire faded, replaced by his own ragged breathing and a constant string of “run, run, run!” cycling through his frantic thoughts.

Scrambled as his mind was, it took Cal a moment to recognise his surroundings. He was on the Mantis. He wasn’t being hunted and he wasn’t in immediate danger. It was just a nightmare, brought on by too many echoes.

Logically he knew he was safe, but the part of his brain caught in the past wasn’t listening, driving him to flee. His heart beat rapidly against his ribs like he’d been running for hours, his lungs struggling to get enough air. BD-1 came rushing out of the engine room, beeping worriedly. Cal opened his mouth to speak, unsure if he was going to wave off his concern or ask for help. It didn’t matter either way because all that came out was a strained croak.

“We’re going to die!”

“Please! Don’t hurt them!”

His limbs were numb, fear wracking him with violent shivers and keeping him locked in place where he’d landed on hands and knees. He wanted to move, but his body simply wasn’t responding. All he could do was gasp uselessly for air that wouldn’t come.

“Cal?” Cere said from somewhere above. With more effort than should be required, he lifted his head. She was standing in the doorway to her cabin, still in her sleep clothes.

“H-help,” he croaked, barely more than a whisper.

Cere was kneeling at his side in an instant, one hand going to his back. “What’s wrong?” she asked calmly.

“Can’t… breathe.”

“Alright. Let’s get you sitting down first. Can you move?”

Cal shook his head. Cere took charge, helping him to sit on the floor with his back against the wall while keeping him from faceplanting the deck. He wanted to draw his knees up, curl into himself to keep himself safe from the unseen threat, but Cere put a firm hand on his legs. “You’re having a panic attack,” she said calmly. “Just try to breathe slowly, like this.” She took a long, slow breath in, holding it a moment before releasing it.

“There’s no air.”

Cal tried to match her, he really did, but all he could manage was a few tiny gasps. Cere kept encouraging him, keeping her own breathing slow and steady. After a few tries he managed to inhale for more than a second, holding it before it rushed out of him once more. “Good, keep going,” Cere said.

They sat there on the floor for several minutes until the crushing weight lifted from his chest and he could breathe freely once more. “Sorry about that,” he said, letting his head thump against the wall. He was still shaking a little as the adrenaline faded, the cold of the floor seeping through his thin trousers, leaving him chilled.

“There’s no need to apologise for things outside of your control,” she said calmly, reminding Cal of the creche masters handling the younger initiates. “How did you end up out here? I heard a thump and assumed BD was up to something,” she said, casting a glance at the small droid. He gave an indignant beep, a pause, then an apologetic one. Cal gave an amused huff. They both knew he wasn’t as quiet as he liked to think he was.

“I don’t remember,” he shrugged in answer to Cere’s question. “I think it was just a nightmare. Must have walked around in my sleep.” Or more likely he’d bolted from the engine room and tripped. He’d have to ask BD later if he saw what happened.

“Does that happen often?”

“The sleep walking or the nightmares?”

“Both.”

Cal shrugged. “The nightmares are pretty constant, but I don’t usually walk about. This one was… really bad.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kriff, they were right behind him.

“No,” he said as a particularly strong shiver ran up his spine.

Cere sighed softly but didn’t press the issue, getting to her feet instead. “Come on,” she said, holding out a hand to help him up, “there are more comfortable places to sit than the floor. I doubt either of us will be getting any more sleep.”

“What time is it?” he asked, taking the offered hand, letting her pull him to his feet.

“Not sure exactly. Early.”

“Sorry for waking you,” he mumbled.

“What did I just say?”

“Oh, uh… sorry?”

She rolled her eyes and headed to the galley. Cal stood in place for a moment, looking between Cere and the engine room. He could just go back to bed and lie there staring at the blinking lights until it was a more acceptable time to get up, but he didn’t really want to be alone right now. BD beeped at him from the floor, nudging him in the direction that Cere had gone. “Alright bud,” he said.

Cere was already heating some water to make them some tea, two mugs set out on the counter. Greez might not trust her to cook, but she was allowed to boil water unsupervised. He slumped in his usual seat at the end of the table, trying to ignore the flashes of Herik’s echo that crossed his mind. He wasn’t sure at this point which bits were “real” and which came from his brain twisting it into a nightmare, but it didn’t really matter at this point. It was all equally hellish.

“How’s the pain?” Cere asked while they waited for the water.

“The what?” he asked, not quite following.

“Your chest? From the philak?”

Oh, right. He’d forgotten about that. The pain in his chest was blissfully absent now, though the faint burning in his leg remained. Unfortunately, he might have been better off if it lingered a while since people don’t just recover from almost having their chest caved in after half a night of sleep.

“Hurts a bit still,” he said, faking a wince.

“And your ankle?”

“It’s fine. I worked with worse on Bracca.” That part wasn’t a lie. He’d had to get good at managing pain, both phantom and real while working. He couldn’t afford not to or else he’d end up starving and without a roof over his head. He knew his pain tolerance was freakishly high, even for a scrapper. It had to be with everything he was dealing with.

“You didn’t even flinch when I helped you stand,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Like I said, I worked through worse.”

She gave a sad sigh. “I don’t doubt it. But still, that must have hurt?”

“A little maybe.”

“Do you want any painkillers?”

“It’s fine. Honest,” he said, giving her a tight smile.

Cere remained unconvinced but didn’t press further. She poured water for the tea when it was done boiling and they waited in comfortable silence while it brewed. It was strangely peaceful in a way Cal had rarely gotten to experience. Domestic he supposed, not that he had a great deal to compare it to. There was no rush, no time wasted while a deadline loomed. Just two people sharing tea because they could.

Cere set the mugs down at the table and sat beside him. “You left this behind earlier,” she said, picking something up from the other end of the table. Still a little groggy, he squinted in the dim light before making out the familiar shape of his lightsaber.

“Oh,” he said, taking it from her. As he wasn’t wearing a belt, he couldn’t clip it to anything so just set it on the table between them. He was usually so careful with it, but Herik’s echo had really gotten to him, and he was safe enough on the Mantis that he’d let his guard down.

“I couldn’t help but notice it isn’t yours, is it?”

“Run! Run! They’re coming!”

Unease sat heavy in his gut, despite Cere’s outwardly calm presence. She must have picked up on his change of mood as she gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s far too long for you to hold comfortably, and you look a little young to have had a double-bladed lightsaber of your own. It was made for someone with much larger hands than yours.”

Cal nodded, his throat tight. “It belonged to Master Tapal. I lost mine while we were trying to escape the clones. He… he gave this to me before he died.”

“Master Tapal...” she repeated faintly.

“Did you know him?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said distantly before bringing herself back with a slight shake of her head. “We were good friends before the war, but we lost contact once it started. He was a true guardian of the Republic. I’m sorry you lost him like that.” She put her hand on his arm, stroking her thumb there. Strangely Cal didn’t feel the immediate urge to shake her off. For once he allowed himself sit with his grief, even if he still refused to delve any deeper than the surface. He didn’t know what to say, and it seemed neither did Cere as she was lost in thought for a long time.

“The last time we spoke…” Cere began after a while, “Master Tapal mentioned something about his Padawan struggling with the Force. Is that… still the case?” she asked carefully.

“Hey, get away from there!”

“No,” he said quickly, pulling away from her to fold his arms in his lap. “No, I was struggling to adapt to being on a warship instead of at the Temple and it was… overwhelming I guess,” he lied. He supposed that it wasn’t much of a surprise that Master Tapal would have confided in a friend upon realising that his new Padawan was going to be more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. He just hoped now that he hadn’t told her any specifics.

She could not know about his psychometry. Not now that he knew she was so focused on rebuilding the past. He was already a tool to retrieve the holocron. Making him witness echoes was only one small step away. He might be able to get away from her, but it wouldn’t be easy when he had no money and was dependent on the Mantis for travel. There was nothing stopping them from locking him in the engine room whenever they landed somewhere, preventing him from running away. He’d like to think she was better than that, but he’d known too many on Bracca who acted nice only to shank you in the nearest alley for the credits in your pocket. Best not take the risk.

Cere nodded. “I only asked it in case it was… an ongoing issue,” she said carefully.

“It’s not. Or at least I don’t think it is,” he added when she didn’t seem convinced. “Everything I’m dealing with now… it’s because of the purge. That’s all.”

“Alright,” she said. “How are you holding up anyway?”

He shrugged, running a hand over his face. “Rather not talk about it.”

“Right, well. I understand. More than you realise.”

He looked up at her at that, curiosity piqued. “Why’d you choose to stop using the Force?” he blurted, the question having been on his mind since Bogano. His brain caught up with his mouth too late to stop it from slipping out.

“Stupid.”

“You can’t just ask something like that.”

“Have a little tact, would you.”

He could feel his face flush with embarrassment so he took a sip of his tea, foolishly hoping to hide the fact that he’d gone bright red.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Cere barely reacted, her hands still wrapped around her mug, staring down into the steaming liquid. Several long seconds ticked by, and with each one Cal wanted to disappear more and more. He was about to apologise and leave when she finally began to speak.

“When the purge started and our Clone Troops turned against us, my Padawan and I took several younglings and went into hiding. But… we didn’t last long,” she sighed, lost in the past. “Imperial patrol was about to discover our location, so I tried to lure them away from my Padawan. Trilla. She stayed behind with the younglings. But they caught me. And they… tortured me.”

Cal didn’t need the Force to tell this was a painful memory for her, emotions raw after all this time. Maybe they were more similar than he had initially assumed.

“They wanted to know about the others and… how many were left. But mostly they wanted to know about Cordova, and where he went. They knew he’d been planning something in case the Order fell, but he wouldn’t tell anyone what it was. Even I only heard of it in a message he sent me shortly before he disappeared. All I had were some vague instructions and the coordinates for Bogano. I hadn’t thought much about it at the time, believing he’d simply gotten carried away in his research again.

“I didn’t tell them anything, no matter how many times they hurt me,” she said, a slight tremble to her voice. “Not about Trilla or the younglings, or of Cordova’s plan. I couldn’t take that risk once the Jedi were gone. If there was any hope of rebuilding and fighting back, I had to keep quiet.”

Cal could see how it weighed on her, years later. Torture was one of the few things he’d never experienced in an echo. And sure, he’d suffered plenty of injuries of his own, but nothing like the sustained pain the Empire could inflict simply because it suited them. That was a whole other level of psychological torment. And she had survived it.

“You escaped though,” he said, trying to focus on the present.

“It was a prison riot. I saw my opportunity and I took it.” There was a brief flash of determined fire in her eyes before it fizzled out into something more defeated. “But they almost broke me. And I am not the same as I was, Cal.”

“Your Padawan… Did she survive?”

“No,” she swallowed thickly. It was the answer Cal had expected but hoped against. It would make more sense for Cere to go on this mission with her and not some random scrapper kid with a broken Force connection after all.

“But that’s why we can’t give up,” she continued. “We can’t let the sacrifices of those closest to us, my Padawan, your master… be for nothing.”

That struck a chord somewhere deep inside. He’d already lost everything he’d ever held dear. The Order that raised him, the clones who had become his family, his master and now Prauf. He’d been in hiding for five long years, doing nothing but trying to stay alive and for what? He had no purpose, just an endless cycle of work and sleep, barely scraping by. A cog in a machine, easily replaceable. But like he’d told BD in the vault, it wasn’t living. Cere was right. He had to make their sacrifices mean something.

“Hold the line.”

Travelling was unequivocally, mind-numbingly, boring. Being stuck in the same confined space day after day with nothing to do was driving Cal insane. The lingering echoes in the common areas were becoming more tempting by the hour just for some variety before he reminded himself what a bad idea that was.

It wasn’t like he could meditate. Not when there was a likely chance that he’d lose control again and blow a hole through the hull. He couldn’t practice using the Force either since he had nothing to practice with. Well, BD had offered, but Cal wasn’t going to risk hurting his when something went wrong. He’d remembered how to push things with the Force in the Zeffo tomb, but it was sporadic and uncontrolled, a burst of power with no finesse. It was better than nothing, but too unsafe for a small droid.

The only other thing Cal could think to do was go through the lightsaber forms, but there wasn’t enough space in the engine room, and he had the distinct feeling Greez would gut him if he caught him with his lightsaber anywhere near his beloved Potolli-weave sofa. So that led him to where he was now, bored out of his mind, lying on his back on the sofa with his legs dangling off the end, the Agasar blasting one ear with bass while half listening to the voices in his head. Sometimes they could be entertaining, but right now they were just as bored as he was.

“Incoming.”

Greez appeared in his peripheral vision, a rare occasion where he was actually looking down at Cal instead of up. “You alright there kid?”

“Huh, oh, yeah. Fine,” he said, moving the speaker off his ear. He didn’t bother to sit up.

“You look tired.” He crossed both pairs of arms, drawing Cal’s attention to the shiny, brightly coloured plastoid packets he was holding.

“I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“Yeah, Cere told me. You didn’t eat breakfast either.”

“Wasn’t hungry,” he shrugged. He rarely was, still not used to actual food. There was something vaguely off-putting about the idea of eating so much that made his stomach churn.

“How do you expect to fight the Empire when you keep skipping meals?”

“Don’t know about you, but I don’t see any Imps in here,” he said, pretending to look around the empty ship for invisible stormtroopers.

“Alright smartass,” he grumbled, moving around the caf table to sit beside Cal. With a sigh, Cal got himself upright since Greez clearly intended to stay for a while. Not that he minded. Couldn’t be worse than listening to the repeated demands to look for echoes and incoherent snippets of other peoples’ lives.

“You don’t have to worry about me collapsing or anything. I got by on Bracca just fine.”

“Ha! You may have survived that pile of scrap, but “just fine” is not how I’d describe it,” Greez said with a shake of his head.

“I’m a lot better off than some of the others,” he said defiantly.

“Just because someone else is doing worse than you doesn’t mean you’re doing alright.”

“You’d get it if you’d lived there,” he said dismissively.

“Alright then, explain it to me,” he said, tossing one of the shiny packets at Cal while opening his own. Cal caught it but just held it in his lap. “Why?” he asked, mildly suspicious of his motives. “You hate it when I talk about Bracca.”

“Yeah, but it was your life for five years. It’s not exactly fair to ignore it. And besides, neither of us have got much going on. The ship’s on autopilot and as you so graciously pointed out, there’s no Imperials to fight.”

“Okay, uh…” he trailed off, trying to think of something that wouldn’t immediately send Greez running. While he did, he looked down at whatever Greez had tossed him. It had a cartoon of a bright purple fruit Cal didn’t recognise plastered on the front along with a Rodian taking a bite. None of it helped him identify what exactly it was. Across from him, Greez was happily eating away, so it couldn’t be that bad.

“There was one time I was working on a small transport ship. Should’ve been a standard job, maybe a couple weeks. But someone cut through the tibanna gas cannister and blew the whole thing up.”

“Oh kriff,” Greez said, fruit snack suspended half way to his mouth. Cal paused, just long enough for Greez to back out if he wanted to, taking the opportunity to open his own snack.

“It wasn’t my usual crew,” he continued when Greez stayed quiet. “One of their riggers took a nasty fall, so they called me in as a temporary replacement,” he began, popping one of the dried fruit pieces in his mouth as he settled in to the story. “Nothing unusual there, so I just got on with it. I don’t know what happened, but I was on top of the wreck trying to cut an old shield generator free when there was this deafening bang. Everything went black and suddenly I was lying in the mud several meters away from a smoking hole in the ground.

“I couldn’t hear anything except ringing in my ears and it took me a while to get back up, but I didn’t think I was hurt too badly. I just sort of sat there stunned while I could see some of the others lying on the ground covered in blood. Some of them weren’t moving at all.

“It wasn’t until I got home that I realised my face was all cut up. Which explained why everyone was looking at me funny on the train. It’s not like we had medkits on hand and I couldn’t afford the clinic, so I had to sort it out myself.”

“And by “sort it out”, you mean… what exactly?” Greez asked, pre-emptively wincing.

“I had to pull small bits of shrapnel out, did what I could to disinfect it with some soap and used some of those old style sticky strips to keep the edges of the bigger cuts together. I wouldn’t have bothered but they kept splitting and bleeding when I was working, and it was getting on my nerves.”

“Did you have painkillers? Or bacta?”

Cal shook his head, dismayed to find he’d run out of snacks while he’d been talking. “Too expensive.”

“I’m failing to see how you think you came out alright in this situation.”

“I got to walk away. Most of that crew didn’t. I didn’t see them again, but I did cross paths with a couple of them a few years later. One had lost an arm and a leg while the other was burnt on half of her body. I got to walk home with a few new scars.”

Greez shook his head again, letting out a long breath. “You know that’s still incredibly fucked up though, right? Like, normal people don’t find themselves in those kinds of situations. What happened to you was bad.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Who does he think he is, getting all high and mighty?”

“Maybe you should teach him what real hardship is.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” he sighed.

“Am I?” Greez asked, genuinely concerned he’d somehow crossed a line.

“Oh. Not you. Sorry, it’s—”

“Voices, right? Don’t sweat it, Cere explained that to me too. And… I’m sorry I was being a jerk about it before. You didn’t deserve that.”

Cal wasn’t sure what to do with an apology. He was so used to shrugging off the abuse he received. Having someone actually admit their behaviour was shitty was leaving him feeling wrong-footed. Before he could wheel out his usual “it’s fine,” Greez broke the tension. “Here, I’ve lost my appetite,” he said, handing over his half eaten packet.

Cal took it wordlessly, still trying to come up with something to say. A simple, “Thanks,” is what he eventually came up with. It seemed enough for Greez.

“There’s more in the kitchen if you want them. Help yourself, any time.” He stood to leave, heading for the cockpit. While it was fun to torment Greez with stories of Bracca now that they’d warmed up to each other, he did understand his point that those five years were pretty brutal. He’d had plenty of time to become jaded to the horrors that were the life of a scrapper. Most people hadn’t, and so the horror was fresh every time. Greez, being like most people, could only withstand so much at a time before he had to cool off and Cal didn’t want to push him away by testing his limits.

It didn’t take long for him to finish off Greez’s snacks. He still didn’t know what fruit they were made of since the packet didn’t say, but it was sweet and tangy. Cal didn’t think he’d seen anything resembling fruit once in the five years before coming aboard the Mantis. The closest he’d gotten was the vaguely fruity flavoured ration bars, but they were almost as bland as everything else and tasted of nothing specific.

Despite Greez saying he was welcome to get some more, he resisted the temptation. What if they couldn’t get any more for a while? Or if anyone else wanted some only to find them all gone? Cal didn’t want to be responsible for that. That was how you’d get stabbed, not that he thought either Greez or Cere would stab him over food. But still, it was a hard habit to shake. He stuck his headphones back on and let his head fall back against the sofa, feeling marginally better than he had earlier.

Chapter Text

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Cal felt like he was finally making a real difference. Upon arriving at Kashyyyk, the crew of the Mantis found themselves caught in the middle of a vicious fight between the Empire and a mix of Wookiees and Partisan guerilla fighters. Though the planet may be new to Cal, the battlefield was all too familiar.

Before the Purge, Master Tapal had done what he could to keep him away from the front lines. He’d never set foot there himself – something which he would always be grateful for – but he’d lived it too many times to count through echoes, clinging to returning clone troopers even after they’d washed the blood off.

The assault on the refinery with the Partisans was a blur. Cal only knew two things for certain. There were Wookiees being held prisoner inside, and one of them might know where to find Tarfful. It hadn’t been too difficult initially, but as he made his way through the base, echoes of suffering began to permeate his flimsy mental defences.

They smothered him like a heavy blanket, getting louder and more distracting the closer he got to the cells. They grated against his mind, crawled under his skin, demanded his attention. All he could do was hold the mission at hand in his mind like a barrier and take it one step at a time. He wouldn’t find anything useful here that he couldn’t already guess; pain, misery and despair soaked into the cold metal walls.

What little remained of the Empire’s forces retreated shortly after the prisoners were freed, realising they were no match against a horde of angry Wookiees. Cal was under no illusion they wouldn’t return. One day the Wookiees might be able to drive them off Kashyyyk for good, but for now it was enough that their people were free.

As they celebrated their victory, he tried to find out if anyone knew where he might find Tarfful, but apparently he’d been hiding in the Shadowlands with his fighters. No one had any leads Cal could follow aside from an old connection, so with nothing else to do he headed back to the Mantis, feeling very pleased with himself.

The flaming wreckage on the landing pad had been put out and partially cleared, the bodies of the dead moved to make room for more Partisan ships. Cere was nowhere to be found but he spotted Greez looking through a crate half as tall as he was. “Hey Greez.”

“Oh, Cal. You’re back in one piece,” he said, extricating himself from the crate, his eyes scanning Cal for any sign of injury. “How’d it go? You manage to free those Wookiees?”

“Yeah, they’re with the Partisans now. They don’t know where Tarfful is, but a Wookie called Choyyssyk used to work closely with him. He’s going to find him for us. I gave him our comm code since it’ll probably take a while.”

“Well that’s something I guess,” he muttered, dusting himself off. “What are we supposed to do while they’re searching?”

“Don’t know. We probably shouldn’t stay here for too long though. The Empire could come back any moment. The Wookiees might be free, but this is still an Imperial base, and they’ll want it back sooner rather than later.”

“That’s not a bad idea. We can go as soon as Cere gets back. I don’t want to be hanging around any longer than necessary.”

“Where’d she go anyway?” Cal asked, looking around. There wasn’t any sign of her anywhere on the landing pad and he couldn’t sense the distinctive void in the Force that indicated her presence on the Mantis.

“She went in there to see if there was any useful intel on their systems,” he said, pointing over his shoulder back towards the base. “Oh, hey, one of the Partisans found this. Maybe you could use it for BD or something,” he said, tossing the small object in Cal’s direction.

Cal brought his hands up to catch it instinctively.

“Wrong move.”

“Damn it! Where did they come from?”

“Who cares, just keep shooting!” a fellow trooper replied. He did as he was told and kept firing at the so-called Partisans, but they were crafty, hiding behind cover until an opportunity presented itself. Scum, the lot of them.

“I thought the walkers were supposed to take care of them!” another shouted.

“They’re only effective out in the open,” the first trooper shouted. “They must have hidden in the trees with the natives.”

He kept shooting at the trees, hoping to score a lucky hit. His comm buzzed in his helmet, a drone of commands to other units. He’d learnt long ago to tune it out and focus on the battle unless his squadron specifically was called.

The only exception to that were the cut-off screams that came from the other end. He looked to his fellow troops, but they knew as little as he did. Those commands had been coming from one of the walkers beyond the gulley. If it had gone down, then maybe these rebels had more firepower than they thought.

For lack of other options, they kept firing, hoping to wear down the opposition. “Do you hear that?” someone called.

He concentrated on the noise around them as he ducked behind cover, trying to pick out anything unusual. There, the heavy, mechanical thud of a walker. It sounded like it was getting closer. “Maybe they sent backup,” he said. Several explosions heralded its arrival, striding through the thick, black smoke. For a brief moment he felt nothing but sheer relief. That was quickly shattered when the walker turned to fire directly at his position.

“Move!” someone shouted. They all scrambled for cover as cannon fire exploded behind them. He managed to dive out of the way just in time, but others weren’t so lucky. “Get up!” his commander ordered. “Keep firing! Take that walker down!”

He did as he’d been trained and followed his orders, taking up his blaster and diving back into battle. Bit by bit the rogue walker took down the squadrons on the ground and the ships in the air. On the landing pad behind him, the large transport shuttle took to the air, drawing the walker’s attention.

It gave them a chance to target its more vulnerable spots, but it didn’t make a single bit of difference. With an earth shaking boom he was thrown to the ground. Above him the shuttle started wavering in the air, critically damaged.

This was it; he was going to die here. Either the ship was going to crush him, or the walker was going to blast him to pieces. He tried to get up and find cover, but he found himself being held down by several pairs of hands.

“Woah, take it easy now,” an unfamiliar voice said. He fought against them; couldn’t they see they had to get out of here? He managed to get free and scrambled to his feet, only to be brought back to his hands and knees by a sickening wave of vertigo. A small droid entered his line of sight and beeped at him. He didn’t know binary, so it was little more than a shrill noise that made his head hurt worse than it already did.

“What’s going on?” a woman asked, hurrying over.

“I don’t know,” the first voice replied. “He looked like he was going to pass out but now he’s trying to fight me.”

“Cal?” the woman said, kneeling beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“We have to move,” he said, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. He was so used to hearing it through the modulator that now he sounded wrong without it.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

There wasn’t time to explain. If she couldn’t see the danger then that was her problem. He shook her off and stumbled to his feet. No one stopped him this time, but the woman stood in his way, arms held wide like she thought she might need to tackle him. He glanced up at the sky, worried that the ship was going to come down on their heads any second.

It wasn’t there. There wasn’t even any smoke. He could still hear screaming, but there was no one else here. He frantically looked around for any sign of danger and came up empty. It was only him, this woman and a short Latero, both of whom were watching him warily.

“Where’d it go?” he asked, looking back up at the sky in disbelief.

“Where’d what go?” the Latero asked.

“The ship!” he said pointing up. “It was right there!”

“Cal, are you feeling alright?” the woman asked, taking a step towards him. He backed away, keeping out of her reach.

“Who’s Cal?” he asked. The two strangers shared a worried look between them. He didn’t have time for this. Maybe he hit his head and blacked out, but he needed to report to whoever was left in charge. He took a few shaky steps toward the hangar doors, but his legs were hollow, his balance unhelped by the fact that the world was still spinning.

The little droid beeped at him again insistently, following at his heels. He only made it a few steps before he tripped up. He would have fallen face first onto the floor if the woman hadn’t caught him. “Easy now. Just sit down for a moment while we figure out what’s going on.” She cast her gaze over to the droid. Maybe she knew what it was saying.

“Get off me,” he snapped, yanking his arm from her grip. He didn’t try to get back to his feet this time. He knew when he was beaten, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Surely his commander wouldn’t punish him for suffering a head injury.

“Greez, tell me exactly what happened,” the woman said, turning to the Latero.

“I don’t know. I tossed him a transformer one of the Partisans found and it was like he wasn’t here anymore,” Greez said. “I thought he was going to pass out, so I got him lying down which was when I called you.”

“And what do you remember?” she asked him.

“I don’t answer to you,” he snarled.

“Humour me.”

He shouldn’t. He was better than them, had authority over them. But something deep down urged him to cooperate. “The walker was coming. It blew up the shuttle and I was trying to get to cover.”

“What walker?”

How stupid could these people be? Hadn’t they seen it? He looked over to where it had been standing, now lying in a heap on the ground, the warped remains of the ship scattered around it. Well that answered that question. “That one,” he said, nodding his head to it, masking a wince at the sharp pain it brought.

“The one you hijacked?” Greez asked.

“The one I what? I didn’t…” he said, trailing off. He didn’t hijack anything. He wouldn’t even know how. It had been coming for them, was going to kill them. But…

He had hijacked it. He could just as vividly remember taking control as he could recall running from it. A knife was driven through his head as two realities collided in his mind. Both were equally true, but only one had happened to him, to Cal. The other was borrowed, the adrenaline of battle and fear of death strong enough to overwrite his existence.

He curled in on himself as though that could protect him, clutching at his head. The two sets of memories warring for dominance. Climbing up the AT-AT with BD, shooting at the unseen Partisans, taking control and firing on the landing pad, barely moving fast enough to avoid getting blown up. He peeled them apart, sticky and reluctant, trying to separate them from one another to take back his own memories and leave the stormtrooper behind.

Something snapped back into place, the echo finally releasing its hold and fading into the background noise of voices. Residual fear stuck to him, but he was whole again, and that was all he needed right now. He let out a shaky sigh as the overwhelming vice crushing his skull began to loosen. It was too late to avoid a migraine, but hopefully he’d have a few minutes before it fully hit.

“Cal?” Cere asked, putting a hand on his back. He didn’t shake her off this time.

“Urgh, yeah?”

“Are you… back?” she asked, as though she wasn’t even sure if that was the right question.

Oh.

“Oh no.”

He was in deep bantha-shit now. Icy dread flooded his veins, this fear fully his own. There was no reasonable way to explain away what she’s just witnessed. He’d gotten lucky before that she’d only caught the tail end, but this… this was a whole other level. He couldn’t just claim it was another migraine, not when she barely believed him last time when all she knew was that he’d forgotten his own name. This time he’d acted like an entirely different person, complete with alternative memories.

He was going to be sick.

“Cal,” she repeated firmly when he didn’t respond.

“Yeah. I’m… I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are. What the kriff was that?” Greez asked, his voice shrill, further driving needles into Cal’s brain. He tried to ask him to keep the volume down, but he wasn’t sure he could be heard with his face buried in his hands.

Cere shushed him on Cal’s behalf before turning her attention back to him. “Let’s get you on the Mantis. Can you stand?”

“Not the Mantis,” he groaned, lifting his head up and squinting at the sunlight. On a good day he could concentrate and ignore the echoes now, but with his mind already torn to shreds he was helpless against them. And he needed all the help he could get right now.

“Why not?” she asked, and there was no sane answer he could give. “Alright, up,” she said when no answer came. She took his arms and pulled him to his feet. There was no use in resisting so he did what he could with his trembling legs to get himself standing. He swayed in place for a moment, having to hold on to her shoulder to keep himself from collapsing. His vision greyed at the edges, his ears ringing while he tried his best not to throw up. Cere waited patiently for him to find his equilibrium, her hand on his back to keep him steady.

“You’ve really fucked up this time.”

“I know,” he groaned, rubbing his eye where a dark squiggle had appeared in his vision.

“Know what?”

“I—”

“Wait!”

Cal snapped his mouth shut, his teeth clicking together, waiting for… something. As the seconds ticked by, a smidge of clarity returned to him. Kriff, he needed to get a better handle on this. “Doesn’t matter.”

“If you’re sure,” Cere said, unconvinced. She gently nudged him into walking, taking it slow. He resisted, but that only consisted of refusing to move until he lost his balance, which didn’t take a lot.

“I don’t wanna go on the Mantis,” he complained as Cere led him along.

“Why not?”

“It’s too late to stop it, so damage control it is.”

“It makes the voices worse,” he blurted before he could reconsider.

Cere glanced at him sideways. “Why’s that?” she asked, sounding sceptical.

“Another dead end.”

“It just… does,” he said lamely.

“Well, I’m sorry about that, but I’d rather you were somewhere safe right now.”

“I’m fine Cere.” The mere fact he was having to squint just to keep his eyes open against the glaring sun and couldn’t stay upright unsupported loudly said otherwise, and he knew it. It was a fairly pathetic attempt even by his standards. Slowly, they made their way up the loading ramp, and before they even made it inside the voices were already overwhelming with their deafening chatter.

“What are you gonna do now, huh?”

“Walked right into this damn trap.”

“Wasn’t my fault this time.”

“Hey,” Cere said, uncomfortably close to his face, “are you listening?” He peeled his eyes open –when did he close them? – to see her leaning over him, both hands on his shoulders. Belatedly he realised he was sitting on the sofa. He didn’t remember getting here.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, the words coming out a little slurred.

“We need to talk,” she said, sitting beside him still with one hand on his shoulder to help him stay upright. “And you’re not going to dodge the question this time.”

“Dunno what you mean,” he grumbled.

“You’re talking to yourself again.”

“She’s got you there.”

“Yeah, well if you just shut up for once—” he snapped. Cere was staring at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Kriff.” He curled in on himself, burying his head in his shaking hands and pulling hard on his hair. Why couldn’t he just be normal?

“Come on, none of that,” Cere said, taking his wrists and holding them firmly out of the way. “Whatever this really is, you can talk to us about it. But we can’t help you if you won’t tell us what’s wrong.”

“It’s too late!”

“You can’t help him now.”

“You… can’t help.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid it’s in his brain.”

“We’re not making it out of this one.”

“Gone too deep. Can’t get it out.”

“Cal?”

It was too much. Too loud. “Stop, please,” he begged, no longer sure if he was talking to Cere or the voices.

“Should’ve been more careful.”

“Just tell her what’s wrong.”

“She can’t find out.”

“You’re scaring me now. Can’t find out what?”

“It’ll be just like last time.”

“Just a tool, made to be used.”

“No, no, I can’t do it again. Please don’t— don’t make me,” he gasped, unable to get enough air into his lungs as panic constricted his chest.

“Hey, you’re alright.” A hand came to rest on his back. He flinched at the unexpected touch, but the hand didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, trying to use it to keep himself present. He was on the Mantis, on the landing pad, on the way to Coruscant, coming back from a party, refuelling at a spaceport.

He was with Cere and Greez and BD-1, with his friends, with Eliina, with the prisoners.

He needed to breathe, to run away, to fight, to hide.

Reality was slipping through his fingers like sand. His spiralling, panicked thoughts only made it worse, caught in a loop of dread, unable to break out.

He had barely survived it before, when the Council kept using him and broke his mind. He couldn’t do it again. He’d lose himself entirely.

“It’s all you’re good for.”

“Cal, you need to let go of the Force,” Cere said, cutting through the haze of panic. He was losing control but unlike before he couldn’t snap out of it. He was a bomb on a hair-trigger, about to detonate with the slightest wrong move, and Cere could sense it too.

“Can’t. They won’t let me,” he said through stuttered breaths.

“You can. Whatever you’re afraid of, it’ll be alright.”

“She’ll break you too.”

“N-no.” With great effort, Cal released his hold on the Force. The tension in the room eased a little, but Cal was still helpless against the voices still clamouring for attention. He lifted his head to Cere, dully aware of the tears streaking his face. “Make them stop. Please. I can’t— can’t make them stop.” He didn’t know exactly what he wanted her to do, but he needed help.

“You’re okay. You need to slow down your breathing, like before.” She took in a slow breath in through her nose, holding it before releasing it. It was harder to follow along than last time, the vicious cycle of voices repeating his worst fears over and over. Any small amount of progress was ripped away, and it was all he could do to stay present.

“Try to focus on what’s around us, what you can feel and see rather than what you can hear.”

He nodded, words evading him. He did as she said and bit by bit he clawed back control, his chest no longer quite so tight. Fear still churned in his gut but there was nothing that could be done about that. His thoughts still raced, trying to formulate some lie he could tell Cere that would be at least half-believable so they could move on and forget about this whole sorry mess.

“Cal,” she said, breaking the tense silence. “I can’t ignore what just happened. I don’t understand, but I want to help you.”

“Trap.”

“I can’t tell you,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why not?”

“Can’t trust anyone.”

“You’ll use it against me.”

“I promise you I will do no such thing. The last thing I want is to see you like that ever again.” She placed her hand over his where it rested in his lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. He wanted to believe her, to unload the burden he’d been carrying for so long. Standing on the precipice was terrifying, more so than the Inquisitors. He could fight them and know that the worst thing that could happen was a swift death, but this… his only options were to hide or take a leap of faith.

BD gave a low whine where he was perched on the caf table. After seeing how badly things had just gone, he too thought he should tell Cere. There wasn’t much he could do to help if Cal had another meltdown like that. As much as Cal hated to admit it, he was right. If he kept having episodes like this then he’d be no use to anyone and was actively a danger to himself. He needed help, and Cere was the only one who could possibly understand. He just had to hope that she could be trusted.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah… Pretty sure.”

He swallowed thickly, needing a few seconds to build up the courage to speak the words. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the floor between his feet and took a deep breath.

“There’s not coming back from this.”

“I… I have a rare ability in the Force. Psychometry,” he said before the voices talked him out of it. “When I touch an object, I can relive events connected to it if it left a strong enough imprint in the Force. I see other people’s memories. And… sometimes sort of… become them, if the emotions are strong enough. I don’t have any control over it.”

He risked a glance over at Cere, trying to gauge her reaction. She wore an expression somewhere between sorrow and sympathy. She reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with it on your own. I can’t say I don’t have more questions, but they can wait. I think right now, you should go lie down and try to rest.”

Cal couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him, something between hysterical and relieved. The gut churning fear released its hold on him, leaving him exhausted. It was out of his hands now. He’d placed his trust in Cere. All he could do was hope she didn’t throw it away.

She helped him to his feet, steadying him when he wobbled. They took things slowly as they made their way through the ship until he finally made it to the engine room. “Can I get you anything?” Cere asked when he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

“My headphones?” he asked, looking over to where they’d been left on the workbench.

She crossed the room and fetched them for him, frowning at the state of them before handing them over. “Anything else? A painkiller?”

“No. There’s nothing that can help except time.” BD hopped up beside him, bumping his head into Cal’s side with a sad whine.

“I’ll leave you in peace then.” She dimmed the lights before turning to leave, the door closing behind her. Cal wrestled with his boots and threw off his poncho before lying down. Sleep wasn’t likely with his thoughts still racing, but at least they were mostly his own now. The sheer relief of no longer being in the common area surrounded by echoes felt like a crushing weight had been lifted.

BD chirped that he was proud of Cal for admitting the truth to the others. He knew how much of a big deal it was to him and it wasn’t an easy thing to do.

“Thanks buddy,” he said, patting his head. He put his headphones on and turned the volume up while BD settled down by his side. Cal rested his hand on his head and let his mind drift.

It was dark outside when Cal emerged from the engine room. He would have gladly stayed where he was to avoid the echoes, but his mouth was unbearably dry, and he was pretty sure part of his current headache was due to dehydration. BD followed at his heels, unwilling to let Cal out of his sight.

The plan had been to slip into the kitchen, grab a glass of water and leave immediately, but Greez was already there. “Hey Cal,” he said as he shuffled past to get to the sink. “How are you feeling?” Cal shrugged, not up to using words just yet. He grabbed a glass and filled it, draining it before filling it again.

“Cere tried to explain to me what happened earlier. I’m sorry for throwing that junk at you. If I’d known…”

“You didn’t, so don’t worry about it,” he said as he sat at the table. “It wasn’t the first time that’s happened, and I doubt it’ll be the last.”

“That’s not exactly comforting to hear.”

Cal shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to try to make him feel better about the hell that was his life. Greez opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before deciding it was better left alone and went back to chopping vegetables. He had half a mind to retreat to the relative safety of the engine room, but he didn’t want to have to sit through dinner with everyone’s unanswered questions hanging in the air. The sooner it was over the better.

“Where’s Cere?” he asked.

“She picked up an Imperial transmission earlier and went to talk to the Partisans about it.”

“Should we be worried?”

“If she was worried, we’d be in hyperspace right now.”

Cal gave a tired hum and slumped on the table. BD gave a sympathetic whistle, nudging his head against Cal’s. He let the sounds of Greez cooking sooth his frayed nerves. It had become a familiar routine. Greez liked to cook when he was upset or nervous, which seemed to include every time they landed no matter how many times both he and Cere told him they were safe. The ever-present voices chattered away in his head, but weirdly they weren’t as demanding as he’d expected them to be. Not wanting to think too hard about it, he put it down to having exhausted himself. His connection to the Force was worn thin, almost down to nothing.

He was half way to falling asleep with his head pillowed in his arms when he the door hissed open. BD beeped softly to inform him Cere was back, saving him the effort of checking himself. Reluctantly, he raised his head, blinking to get his eyes to adjust.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she came up the steps to the galley.

“Okay, I think,” he mumbled, trying to fully wake up his brain. “Can… can we talk? About earlier?”

“Only if you’re ready?”

“I am.”

She nodded, sitting beside him at the table. Now that the moment was here, he found words had abandoned him. He took another sip of water, stalling while he tried to find somewhere to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re psychometric earlier?” she prompted.

“I, uh, it’s complicated.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I-I do. I think.” He hesitated another couple of seconds before speaking again. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. It didn’t used to be a problem. Annoying since I can’t control it, but I could live with it. But then during the Clone Wars I… Kriff it was my stupid idea to start with.

“It became useful. A squadron went missing without a trace and we had no way of knowing what happened to them or if it would happen again. Except for me. That first mission wasn’t too bad; we even found the clones still alive. But once the Council found out what I did, they kept wanting to send me on missions.

“Master Tapal wasn’t happy about it, and I’m pretty sure he asked the Council for reassignments several times, but I was useful. I’ve seen things I wish I could forget, and I thought I was dealing with it okay. But then… something in me broke, and the echoes started sticking and now I can hear their voices all the time.” He didn’t want to start crying again, but it seemed that wasn’t up to him. He scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve before the tears could fall. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d use me too.”

“I would never ask that of you,” she said, her voice wavering from her barely contained emotions. “The Council was wrong to force that on you.”

Hearing those words broke what was left of his resolve, unleashing a fresh flood of tears. For so long he’d felt immense guilt over his resentment for the Jedi Council. They were supposed to be the best of their Order. Surely he should have wanted to be like them, to be able to look past his own suffering and put everyone’s needs before his own. But to hear those words from Cere, a former Jedi Master. To have someone who understood echo his thoughts.

It was like being set free.

At some point Cere handed him a tissue, rubbing his back. Cal was getting pretty tired of crying all the time, but he couldn’t deny it was cathartic. Thankfully this bout of tears only lasted a couple of minutes. He dried his eyes and took another sip of water.

The atmosphere had turned solemn. Greez was no longer chopping veg, his attention fully on Cal. “How old were you?” he asked in that way that meant he already didn’t like the answer.

“I was nine when I was made a Padawan. The voices didn’t start until I was about ten.”

If the atmosphere on the Mantis was tense before, Cal could almost feel the others’ shock as though it were his own. “You were nine years old, and they sent you to war,” Cere said, frighteningly calm like she was trying very hard not to explode.

“So now you’re, what, eighteen?” Greez asked. There was a forced lightness to his tone, badly hiding his own unease.

“Not quite,” he said sheepishly.

“You were nine,” Cere repeated faintly. “No wonder you didn’t trust us. Cal, I am… so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged.

Greez cleared his throat, possibly trying to mask some of the tightness to his words. “So how exactly does this psychometry thing work?” he asked, trying to change the subject. Cal was grateful. This was supposed to be about his psychometry, not his admittedly traumatic childhood.

“Pretty much like I said before. I can touch things and relive other people’s memories if they left echoes behind. I can also sense echoes around me, like in here. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch. The voices in my head get agitated and try to make me look at them too. Like when you ask the Force for guidance and let it lead you. Except I don’t ask for it and it makes me anyway,” he said, adding the last part for Cere. “I wasn’t lying about the voices being worse in here by the way. It’s… noisy. Usually I can ignore them, but not after what happened earlier.”

“So what happens if you touch something in here? Do you have a horrible flashback or something?” Greez asked.

Cal shook his head. “The ones on the ship are pretty weak. The most I get are impressions or flashes of moments. I can stay present for those. Most of them are kinda nice, I guess. Happy. But happy echoes are always weaker.”

“And… the not-happy echoes?”

“They tend to be stronger. Fear, anger… death. Those are the ones that tend to suck me in and the lines get blurred.”

“Karking hell kid,” Greez said, dinner long forgotten. “So outside…”

“I had the memories of a stormtrooper. I had no idea who I was until something clicked back into place. I essentially was that stormtrooper, caught in that moment. It doesn’t happen very often.”

“On the station, when I found you, you didn’t seem to know who you were then either,” Cere said.

“Same thing, though that was more because I got overwhelmed by a bunch of echoes in the crowd and hadn’t had a chance to escape them since before leaving Bracca. There’s a lot of echoes on this ship.”

Silence hung heavy once more as no one knew what to say. BD gave a low beep, nudging his head into Cal’s shoulder. Cal patted his head, letting Cordova’s echoes brush against the edges of his mind.

“I think that’s enough depressing talk for one evening,” Greez said, clapping two hands together to release the tension. “I need to get back to making my great-granny’s stew.”

Cal was inclined to agree. He was wrung out from reliving the worst moments of his life and the idea of another nap was sounding more appealing by the minute. Despite the heavy topic, he felt lighter now, a burden removed. He wouldn’t need to stay on guard all the time, carefully avoiding triggers or worry about saying the wrong thing. It was daunting, but he believed Cere wasn’t going to use what he’d told her against him.

Cere hadn’t moved for the last two minutes, perfectly still as she blankly stared down at the table. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

She lifted his head and looked at him for a moment, like she was still processing the question. “I feel like I should be asking you that,” she said with a sad laugh.

“It’s just how my life is,” he shrugged. He’d had plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that this was just how it was for him, even if it still sucked.

“It shouldn’t have been,” she said with an edge of desperation. She held his gaze for a moment longer before letting out a heavy sigh. “I think I need some air. Sorry… I…”

“It’s okay Cere.” She gave him a quick nod before getting up and heading back outside. Greez had resumed his chopping with perhaps a little more force than strictly necessary. Cal didn’t point it out, unable to summon the energy to deal with the negative emotions bleeding into the Force. Instead he folded his arms on the table and lay his aching head back down.

“You really freaked us out earlier you know. I mean, we knew something was up from day one, but neither of us expected anything like that.”

“Can’t promise it won’t happen again,” he mumbled, barely intelligible from where his face was buried.

“Is there anything we can do to help if it does?”

“Just make sure I don’t do anything I might regret. And try to keep in mind it isn’t entirely me you’re dealing with.”

“Kriff kid. What, is it like possession or something?”

Cal had never really thought of it like that before, but he supposed it was a close enough description of what happened. Another person’s consciousness was briefly overwriting his own, taking over his actions while he tried to wrestle back control. “Yeah, I guess.” Greez made a distressed noise at that but said nothing else, going back to meal prep.

Chapter Text

The energy on the Mantis had shifted by morning, and Cal couldn’t help but find it unsettling. A thread of anxiety laced through every word and movement between them, treading carefully on unknown ground. It reminded him of the way other scrappers would avoid him on shift, convinced he was bad luck. He was choosing to believe Cere about not wanting to abuse his ability, but both of them were using it to change how they treated him.

After sitting through breakfast during which Cal managed a slice of plain toast, they quicky dispersed to do their own thing. The tension was doing none of them any good. Cal headed out with BD, talking with the Partisans and Wookiees. They hadn’t intercepted any transmissions to indicate the Empire was making a return just yet, but they all knew it was only a matter of time. For now, they planned to tear down as much of the refinery as they could. If they couldn’t hold the position, they could make sure it was useless to the Empire.

Cal offered to help since he knew a thing or two about dismantling heavy machinery. He needed a distraction and there was nothing quite like the mind numbing repetition of tearing things apart. Ships may have been more his area of expertise, but it turned out that giant saws were a piece of cake, lacking the complex systems required for space travel. Cal, entirely accidentally, ended up taking charge of a small crew, some of whom had clearly never handled a plasma cutter a day in their life.

It felt good, being able to put his skills to use. He wasn’t just a number on the system, a cog in the propaganda machine churning to bury the memory of the Republic. He was fighting back, crippling the Empire, even if for a short while.

There was a lot to do, but unlike the scrapper guild, the Partisans weren’t going to work for hours on end without a break. It was a hard mindset to escape since he’d been working a minimum of eight hours a day continuously since the age of twelve. When midday rolled around, the Partisans dispersed while Cal stayed where he was, half buried in the engine block of a large cutter.

BD whirred, informing Cal everyone else was gone. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be done in a minute. I’ve almost got it,” he said absently, trying to loosen a rusty bolt. BD wasn’t having it though, climbing up Cal’s back to screech in his ear.

“Ow! What’s that for?” he said, extricating himself from the engine to rub at his now ringing ear.

BD hopped down and stamped his little foot, insisting he took a break. Cal looked back at the cutter. Realistically he knew it was going to take him at least another hour until he reached a point where he’d be happy.

BD buzzed again.

“Alright fine. You win,” he said lightly. With nowhere else to go, he reluctantly returned to the Mantis. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the tense atmosphere, but it was either this or hide away somewhere in the refinery. BD chirped at him when he hesitated at the loading ramp. With a weary sigh, he headed inside. For once there was no one around, leaving the common area strangely empty.

“No, that’s not it…”

Cal checked the cockpit but there was still no sign of the others. He couldn’t sense them nearby in the Force either. With a shrug he headed back out to the kitchen. He wasn’t hungry, but Greez had said there were more of those fruit snacks somewhere and he needed something to do aside form sitting and staring at the wall. Besides, he had to admit eating something was better than nothing at all, even if it was just a handful of dried fruit.

He hadn’t really looked around the galley much after clearing out the echoes, not having much interest in it. It took a minute for him to find what looked like a dedicated snack cupboard. There were all kinds of foods in here, some in colourful packaging, others in plain or transparent wrappers. Unsure whether it was all available to him, he located a packet of the fruit snacks and closed the door.

He was contemplating what to do next when the door slid open. “Oh, hey Cal,” Greez said. Cal didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked to the fruit. For a horrible moment worried he’d done something wrong. “Finally found the snack stash then. I was beginning to think I’d have to stick a big neon sign on it or something. Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be out until it got dark.”

“I was helping the Partisans take apart the cutters, but they all stopped for lunch.”

BD chimed in, making it clear Cal would have kept going without him interfering. Sadly, it passed Greez by as he didn’t understand a word of what BD was saying.

“Let me guess, you didn’t know what to do with yourself,” Greez finished for him. Cal nodded meekly, patting BD on the head when he went ignored. “I’m not gonna get mad about you taking a break kid. And sit down or something. You’re hovering is making me nervous.” He waved him off in the direction of the sofa before turning to dig through the conservator.

“There’s still something missing.”

“Where’s Cere?” he asked, though he didn’t think her absence was the cause of the voices’ upset. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place his finger on what.

“Not sure,” came the muffled reply. “Probably poking around in the system again. I don’t pretend to understand what she does.”

“It’s empty.”

“I get that, but why?” he muttered under his breath, too quiet for Greez to hear. The Force offered no obvious answer, perfectly calm. Whatever was going on wasn’t a danger, but it still nagged at him. Finishing off his snack, he scanned his eyes across the room, trying to figure out what had changed, if anything. BD whirred at him, asking what he was doing. “Something’s different in here but I don’t know what.”

With a beep, BD hopped off the caf table where he’d been perched and started zipping around scanning things. “Gah! Get out of here, you menace,” Greez yelped when BD shone his light directly in his face. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing,” Cal said, managing to sound casual. Greez raised an eyebrow at him but went back to whatever BD had interrupted. After a couple more minutes BD returned with his report. Nothing obvious had changed inside the Manits aside from a bit of tidying.

“It’s quiet.”

Cal got up and wandered around, intentionally passing by the areas he usually avoided due to the buildup of clutter. Most of it was gone, leaving pockets of relative quiet where noise had once been. “Hey Greez,” he called back to the galley, “did you move things around?”

“Oh, yeah. Just thought I’d tidy up a bit since we’ve got some time to kill.”

Now that he knew what he was looking for, he realised most of what had been removed were personal items belonging mostly to Greez, but some of Cere’s also. They weren’t things that he’d ever wanted to risk touching, so they’d been left to linger. Now they were gone, he could actually keep track of his own thoughts without getting bogged down. As welcome as the change was, he couldn’t help but wonder at the intent behind it. “We’ve had plenty of time before. Why now?” he asked as he went back to the sofa, trying to sound casual.

Greez shrugged. “I’d been meaning to get around to it for a while. Just seemed like a good time.”

“Because of me.”

Greez floundered for a moment, mouth opening and closing while he tried to find the right words. “Yeah, I suppose,” he said a little helplessly. That was why he’d seemed off that morning then. He didn’t want Cal snooping through his memories. Cere probably felt the same since her stuff was gone too. It hurt that they thought he’d do such a thing.

Hot tears prickled at his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. He scrubbed at his eyes harshly with the back of his hand, willing the tears not to fall. He was overreacting; they had every right to move their things away from him now they knew what he could do. But knowing that didn’t mean it any better.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought you’d appreciate it?” Greez asked with a slight edge of panic, forgetting the food he was in the middle of making.

“What?” Cal croaked.

“Well, I-I had to do a bit of guess work, but you said you get distracted in here from the Force or… something. I was just trying to, I don’t know, make it easier for you.”

He he managed to croak out was a shaky, “oh,” before pressing his mouth into a thin line lest he start crying properly. The last time someone had done something so thoughtful for him was when Prauf had given him his headphones.

Greez clearly didn’t know how to handle a tearful Cal, defaulting to waving him off and muttering that it wasn’t a big deal. He turned back to the meal he was prepping, giving Cal a moment to compose himself. Cal wanted to thank him properly but didn’t trust himself to open his mouth and not become a blubbering mess. Instead, he took a few deep breaths and rubbed at his stinging eyes, heading to the relative privacy of the engine room. He just needed a minute, that was all.

With the door shut behind him, he grabbed his headphones and sank onto the edge of his bed, BD hopping up beside him. He climbed into Cal’s lap and butted his head into his stomach. Cal patted his head, letting the fond memories left by Cordova wash over him, settling the storm. He’d been so afraid for so long that someone might try to take advantage of him that he’d never considered they might just want to help him. It knocked him off kilter, but he welcomed it, a change from the anxiety that had been gnawing at him since he set foot on the Mantis.

Cal ended up spending more time in the engine room than he’d meant to. BD, the traitor, hadn’t let him know when the hour lunch break was over. Cal couldn’t bring himself to be mad about it. The Partisans knew what they were doing by now and he’d needed the time to just sit and decompress from the emotional turmoil of the past day. Everything had suddenly gone from lightspeed to an unsteady crawl, the whiplash leaving him disoriented. He was still finding it hard to believe that he’d actually admitted everything to them, and while it was a weight off his mind, doubt still lingered.

Cere was back when he wandered out to the galley, sitting at the table with Greez. “Oh good, you’re here,” Greez said. “I was beginning to get worried.”

“Did something happen?” Cere asked.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Cal said, trying to make it sound like no big deal.

“It was my fault,” Greez said.

“You were trying to help,” Cal said. “And I appreciate it, really. I just… wasn’t expecting it.”

Cere glanced between the two of them, warring internally whether to ask what had happened before thinking better of it. “On the topic of things you’re probably not expecting,” she said carefully, “I’ve been thinking about something. Come, sit.”

He did as he was asked, trying not to fidget as fresh anxiety churned in his stomach. “I’m sure Master Tapal did what he could to help you control your ability, but whatever it was hasn’t been helping you much, has it.”

Cal shook his head. “There wasn’t much he could do at the time. He was so busy with the war we didn’t have much time to train together. He tried to teach me how to calm my mind, but I couldn’t focus enough to make it work.”

“Would you like to try again? With me this time.”

“But… you don’t use the Force.”

“No, but I still remember how to meditate,” she smiled. “It won’t be like it was with your master, but it might help. Entirely up to you of course.”

Cal thought about it for a moment. Those lessons with Master Tapal had often left him in more distress than he’d been in before, the weight of failure adding to the fear. But things were different now. He was older and learning a deeper appreciation of the Force after its prolonged absence. The voices in his head were an everyday occurrence, not something that frightened him. Perhaps now he’d have more luck.

“Sure. Can’t get any worse, right?” he said, hoping with every fibre of his being he was right.

Cere led them away from the refinery into the forest, following the paths carved out by the Wookiees. Cal kept his senses on high alert. He was less worried about the Empire launching a surprise attack from the trees and more the local fauna. He knew first-hand just how dangerous the wildlife on this planet could be. The last thing they needed as a wyyyschokk jumping out at them. Cere appeared unbothered as she pushed through the dense foliage, though he knew she was carrying her blaster just in case.

After several minutes of walking, they found themselves at a small clearing near a cliff. The refinery was long since out of sight behind the towering trees. If he didn’t know it was there, this area seemed untouched. Cere sat on the grass, crossing her legs. Cal followed, BD hopping off his shoulder to watch intently.

Cal couldn’t help but fidget, suddenly a nervous Padawan all over again. “Relax,” Cere said with a hint of amusement. “Have you meditated at all recently?”

“I tried on Bogano… but it didn’t end well.”

“That’s alright. What happened? Talk me through it.”

Cal averted his gaze, picking at a blade of grass. “It was fine at first, but then… I don’t know, it was like my connection to the Force was pulled too far. It snapped back and I… I lost control.”

“Losing control like that can be frightening, but it’s not the end of the world. If we can identify the problem, we can work on finding the solution. For now, we’ll take it slow. Close your eyes and breathe,” she said, leading by example.

Cal did as instructed, taking a few slow, deep breaths before letting the edges of his consciousness reach out as he exhaled. The forest around them was so alive, it almost took his breath away from the small amount he let himself connect to. Cere remained a void; a patch of space with nothing in it only emphasised by the bright glow of the forest around her. Cal tried not to be disconcerted by how unnatural it felt.

“The Force is around us and within us,” Cere said, the familiar mantra floating across Cal’s mind as she spoke. “It connects us to all things.”

Cal breathed out again, expanding his awareness a little more. He could start to pick out individual organisms now, every living thing from the smallest insect to the largest tree. The Force flowed through it all, a tether between such vastly different lives.

For a while the two of them simply sat there with Cal taking everything in. He wasn’t fully sinking into the Force, keeping his mind within the bounds of his own body while he became comfortable allowing himself to be open like this. The voices in his head remained calm for now, singing softly with the Force to the unique melody of the forest.

“Open yourself up Cal,” Cere said after a while. “Don’t be afraid of letting go.”

Cal hesitated at the threshold, caught between trusting Cere and the memory of what had happened last time. But she was helping him to no benefit of her own. He could use the Force well enough to open the Vault and in theory retrieve the holocron. That was all she’d really needed him for. The least he could do here was trust her guidance. With one more measured breath, he took the final step, letting himself become immersed in the Force.

It was all so much. Every ant hard at work in a colony deep below the ground, birds calling to one another as they flew overhead. The new buds on the trees, unfurling slowly, reaching for the sun’s warmth. Bogano hadn’t been anywhere near this intense. Kashyyyk was so full of life it was near blinding.

The wonder of it all didn’t last. The further Cal let himself sink into the Force, the stronger that unseen current dragged him in a direction he didn’t want to go. He tried to resist, holding on to the peace he had found. “Relax Cal. Stay focused,” Cere said calmly. Cal tried to listen, but it was hard when the voices started talking, fracturing his concentration.

“Your master should have been the one doing this with you,” one said, driving a knife into his heart. It was right of course, which made it hard to dismiss. Master Tapal should have been the one to teach him to control the echoes. He had tried, but Cal had been too weak. That same weakness had gotten his master killed.

“Cal,” Cere said, her voice distant and muffled this time. He tried to withdraw but found himself dragged further away. That feeling of being pulled taut returned, a rope about to snap and lash out.

“You killed your master!”

“You’re a failure.”

“A mistake.”

“Weak!”

“IT’S YOUR FAULT!”

“Cal!”

He snapped back to himself with a gasp, the shock of being back in his own body sending him reeling. Some primal urge told him to run away, but he only succeeded in falling over backwards since his legs were still folded under him.

“Cal, are you alright?” Cere asked, appearing in his line of sight. Cal only nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. He pushed himself upright on trembling arms, his head spinning. “What happened? Talk me through it.”

“I-I don’t know,” he croaked. “It was just like before. On Bogano. It’s like the Force is dragging me too deep. And the voices…” he trailed off, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He took several deep breaths, trying to control himself. Cere put her hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles there.

“You were doing well you know.” Her tone carried no judgement. If anything, it was encouraging. “Better than I expected from what you told me.”

Cal let out a shaky sigh. He didn’t feel like he’d done well. He removed his hands from his eyes, clasping them together instead to rest his chin on them. The grass around them had been flattened, just like it had on Bogano, with Cal at the epicentre.

“It was the voices,” he said softly, half hoping Cere wouldn’t hear.

“What did they say?” she asked patiently.

He shook his head. This wasn’t a matter of trust; he simply wasn’t ready to admit his biggest failure and probably never would be. “Nothing good,” he muttered. With a sigh, he tried to shake off the lingering panic and got back to his feet. Cere followed.

“We can take a quick break if you want, but I think you should try again sooner rather than later.”

“Why?”

“Because sitting with this setback won’t do you any good. You’ll get caught up in everything that went wrong and not pay attention to what went right. We were meditating for almost half an hour before I told you to go deeper.”

Cal hadn’t realised so much time had passed. He looked to BD for confirmation and the little droid beeped in agreement. Maybe Cere had a point about dwelling on his failures. “Alright, let’s go again.”

“That’s the spirit,” she said.

Cal shook the residual nervous energy out before kneeling back down. They started from the beginning, gradually easing into it until Cal was back where he was before, completely surrounded by the Force but remaining separate from it.

“Try letting go slowly this time,” Cere said after several long minutes. Instead of diving straight in full of trepidation, Cal tried to find the line marking where he ended and the Force began. Tentatively, he pushed against it. Everything came into sharp focus as before, but by taking it slower he was able to maintain some semblance of control. It didn’t last, doubt clouding his thoughts, the voices returning to chip away at him until he cracked.

“Stop!” he shouted, opening his eyes as he tore himself free of their influence. He was shaking again, his hands clenched in his lap, digging in to his thighs. His breathing came in heaving gasps like he’d been running. Cere had moved closer to him, hovering like she wasn’t sure what to do.

“You’re alright,” she said when it was clear Cal was once more present.

“Master Tapal would be disappointed if he could see you now.”

“But he can’t, because he’s dead.”

“Shh,” he said to himself, closing his eyes in an effort to mentally block them out. It didn’t help much, but BD noticed the signs of distress and warbled at him, butting his head against Cal. “I don’t want to do any more today,” he said to Cere when he had a little more control over himself.

“I understand. You did very well you know. You should be proud of yourself.” He didn’t feel it, fear still gripping him and showing no signs of letting go. It took several more minutes for him to stop shaking, but a pit of dread remained in his stomach. He doubted it would be leaving any time soon.

“Are you going to be okay?” Cere asked when he got to his feet, catching him when he overbalanced.

“Yeah. I think I just need to clear my head.”

“If you want to talk about it, or anything else to take your mind off it, I’ll gladly listen.”

Cal shook his head. “I want to be on my own right now.” BD buzzed. “With you of course buddy,” he added.

“Do you have your comm?” she asked. He patted down his pockets until he found it, holding it up for her to see. “Alright. Get in contact if anything happens and try to be back before it gets dark. You know how Greez worries.” He wasn’t the only one, but Cal didn’t comment, just giving her a lazy salute before heading off into the trees.

Cal ended up returning well before dusk. He hadn’t ended up doing much exploring, his heart not really in it, much to BD’s disappointment. Instead, he’d walked aimlessly for a while, found a decently sized tree to sit in and talked to BD about what he’d experienced. It was much easier talking to his friend than to Cere about it. Maybe because he knew BD wouldn’t tell the others without his permission, but also because he didn’t experience the Force and he didn’t seem to know much about how the Order used to be. He could talk about it without fear of judgement.

Cere was sat on the sofa when he stepped inside, holobook in hand. “Welcome back,” she said without looking up. “Better?”

“A little,” he shrugged. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

Cere sighed, setting down her holobook. “There was some Imperial chatter earlier about restarting Project Auger on Zeffo.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We should get back as soon as possible.”

“A few hours isn’t going to make much difference, and you seemed like you needed some space. But now you’re back I’ll find Greez, let him know we’re ready to set off.”

“Where is he anyway?”

“He said he was going to talk to the Partisans about supplies, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gambling again.”

“He gambles?”

“You don’t know the half of it. He owed a lot of money to this syndicate called the Haxion Brood. I sold my kyber crystal to pay off his debts and get them off our back.”

“You sold your crystal?” He couldn’t imagine having to do such a thing himself. His own had been lost the day of the purge and he was reminded of that loss every time he fought. While Master Tapal’s blade served him well, it was never meant for him and lacked that easy connection.

“It wasn’t an easy decision, trust me. But I couldn’t use it or else I’d put a target on my back, and we desperately needed the money.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I miss a lot of things,” she said wistfully. “But it’s in the past now.”

Chapter Text

Time never moves as slowly as it did when the Mantis was in hyperspace. Cal had already meticulously cleaned and tuned his lightsaber to free it of the layers of mud from Kashyyyk. He then gave BD the same treatment since Greez wouldn’t stop complaining about him tracking dirt everywhere despite the fact that simply wasn’t true. He’d even tried going through the basic lightsaber forms in the engine room, with the blade off of course.

After all that, it wasn’t even close to dinner time. Groaning, he flopped onto his bed, buried his face in the pillow and resigned himself to a slow and painful death. He felt the mattress dip beside him, followed by a curious beep. “There’s nothing to do,” he grumbled. BD asked him to repeat his statement as his voice was too muffled to make out. Cal lifted his head. “I’m going to die of boredom.”

BD asked if that was actually possible, tilting his head. “I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out,” Cal said as he shifted onto his back. Even the voices were boring. There weren’t many prominent echoes left on the Mantis after Greez tidied up so there was nothing to agitate them. They fell into relatively quiet background chatter, like listening to a crowd from a distance. Present, but not distracting.

He disentangled his headphones from where they’d been buried under the blanket, turning them over in his hands. The music chip he’d picked up on their last supply run had helped a little for a while, but now it was just as repetitive as the one he already had and held little appeal. He was once again missing that little box of chips he’d left behind. He wondered if anyone had found it yet since he’d kept it tucked behind a loose panel away from the worst of the damp. He liked to think that whoever found it might keep some of the chips for themself and come to love the small collection as he had. It was a nice thought, but he was under no illusion that most of them would be sold for credits or traded for an extra few ration bars. They might be a cheap commodity in the wider galaxy, but on Bracca a functioning music chip was like gold dust.

He let the headphones drop back onto the bed and continued to stare up at the ceiling. BD climbed onto his chest and offered to search the holonet for something new he could listen to. “Thanks buddy, but there’s not much point unless you can find a blank chip to put them on.” Maybe Greez had some lying around, he suggested.

That wasn’t a bad idea. He didn’t think they’d have any blank chips, but he was desperate enough that he’d take anything, no matter how different it might be from his preferred taste in heavy basslines and scrambled synths. “Alright, you coming?” he asked as he sat up. BD gave an overly enthusiastic whistle, hopping to the floor.

Cal found Greez in the galley, fully absorbed in his datapad while scratching his head, ingredients scattered around him. “Trying a new recipe?” he said

“Cal!” Greez said, nearly jumping out of his skin. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, trying, and failing, to save face. “Didn’t see you there. You want something or are you just trying to send me to an early grave?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with an unconvincing smile. “You wouldn’t happen to have any music chips lying around would you?”

“’fraid not. Cere might but knowing her she probably only listens nature sounds or something. Not whatever mechanical noise it is you like,” he said, turning back to his datapad.

Cal deflated. It was a long shot to begin with, but that didn’t stop him from hoping. “Are we going to stop at that station again?”

“Only quickly for fuel. Why, was there something you needed?”

“There was a place that sold music chips. I wanted to go last time but didn’t get the chance.”

“Oh. Well, we won’t be stopping long this time. Sorry kid.”

“How come?”

“Uh… Cere said she wanted to get to Zeffo as soon as possible,” he said distractedly.

Cal narrowed his eyes at Greez, not that he was looking at him. “Back on Kashyyyk she said that a few hours wasn’t going to make a difference. Why’d she change her mind?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“They don’t trust you.”

“Shh,” he hissed, waving the voice away. “Is it the Empire? Are they looking for us at the station?” he asked, leaning on the counter by Greez, making himself hard to ignore. If the Empire were looking for them, maybe they should refuel somewhere else.

“No, nothing like that.”

“So what’s wrong?” He held eye contact, willing him to tell him the truth.

It didn’t take long for Greez to crack, looking away with a sigh. “Look, kid, since you told us about the whole “reliving other people’s memories” thing, Cere and I have been worried about you.”

“Why? Nothing’s changed and I know how to handle myself.”

“I’m sure that you do, but for me and Cere, things have changed. You’re just a kid, Cal, and we keep sending you into danger for this mission.”

“He’s just a kid, what does he know?”

Cal shook his head, trying to dislodge the voices. “The station isn’t exactly dangerous,” he said, bristling.

“I know,” Greez said, holding up all four hands in an attempt to placate Cal. “But you didn’t exactly have a great time there last time.”

“I told you guys, that was because I’d just had one of the worst breakdowns in my life! I’ll be fine this time.”

BD chose that moment to chime in, affirming he would be there to keep an eye on Cal. While Cal was grateful he was on his side for this, he couldn’t help the anger than reared its ugly head. Even his best friend thought he needed a babysitter.

“No one trusts you, so why are you still here?”

“It’s not my call,” Greez said. “Talk to Cere. I won’t stop you, but she might.”

Cal had half a mind to storm over to Cere’s cabin and confront her. The sensible part of him knew that would only end badly. He was too riled up for a calm conversation, voices cutting in with unhelpful, inflammatory remarks.

He stormed back to the engine room, boots ringing on the floor. He locked the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, forcing himself to take a couple of deep breaths before he started spiralling. Repetition be damned, he stuck his headphones on and was met by the familiar thrumming bass of the Agasar.

He’d been doing so well recently, not letting the voices get to him. The relative peace was shattered though, unpleasant echoes dredged up to spew vitriol at him. He buried his head in his hands and focused on the music, trying to block everything else out. They were always worse when he got upset, adding fuel to the fire until he started spiralling. It was a vicious cycle and was difficult to break out of once it took hold.

He'd be lying to himself if he said the voices didn’t frighten him sometimes. While he was painfully aware they were merely a collection of other people’s memories, he couldn’t entirely shake the feeling that they were tempting him to the dark side. They were a manifestation of the Force after all and came to prominence whenever he was experiencing strong emotions. More often than not, those emotions were negative, the words circling his head reflecting that. They drove him to anger more easily, poking at the urge to lash out. He knew the Council had concerns over his ability, but those had seemingly faded away once the war started and he’d been sent to the front lines with his master.

Perhaps if the Order had never fallen he would have found a way to temper them by now, if not stop them entirely. Master Vos never seemed to struggle, though from the one time they actually met, Cal wasn’t sure they experienced the past the same way. But even if he couldn’t get the help of another psychometric, he would still have the support of his master. They would meditate together, going through some of the exercises he was doing with Cere, trying to calm his mind and regain control.

Now he couldn’t even meditate on his own without potentially tearing a hole in the ship and killing everyone; the one potential outlet stolen from him. This was the exact situation where meditating would help. He’d be able to reflect on his anger at being treated like an ignorant child and release it. But he couldn’t. He would rush into it with no control, getting caught in the Force’s current and swept away with potentially deadly consequences.

He physically shook himself from that line of thinking. It didn’t matter about what ifs. The Jedi as they used to exist were gone. The Council with their warnings and judgement were gone. Their only hope now was to start over with Cordova’s holocron. And in order to do that, Cal had to keep a clear head.

Dinner was a tense affair. Cere must have been able to tell something was wrong simply from the way Greez kept glancing between them and dumping seasoning on his food. They ate in silence save for the occasional comment. Any attempt at conversation died before it had a chance to get started.

“Is something wrong?” Cere asked, finally having had enough.

“Greez said you don’t want me leaving the Mantis when we refuel,” Cal said, trying to sound casual even as he stabbed his food with a little too much enthusiasm.

Cere shot a sidelong glance at Greez who shrank back. “I didn’t want a repeat of the last time we were there.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said sharply. “I’d already overdone it on echoes before we even set foot in that place. That won’t happen again.”

“What about the crowds?”

“You think there’s weren’t crowds on Bracca? What do you think these were for?” he asked, his hand going to where his headphones rested around his neck. With how riled up he still was, he hadn’t wanted to risk a downward spiral over dinner so he’d taken them with him. Just in case. “I know my limits. You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do now just because you feel bad.”

Cere, it seemed, didn’t have anything to say to that. Cal went back to stabbing his food, but he wasn’t really hungry any more. He was still ever so slowly building his appetite back up, but he was making progress on that front at least, even if it was slow. He was up to eating twice a day to Greez’s joy, though the portions he could manage were still smaller than he’d like.

“Alright,” Cere said, breaking the heavy silence. “We’ll stop at the market but as soon as it gets too much you come straight back here.”

“Fine,” he said. It wasn’t too difficult to agree to those terms since if he got overwhelmed he’d just head back anyway. It wasn’t like he was having to agree to anything he wasn’t already willing to do. Still, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about his freedom being conditional.

“Was there something you were hoping to find?” she asked, trying to change the subject to a lighter one.

“Music chips, maybe some spare parts to fix my headphones, if they can be fixed. I’ve only got the chip I had on me when the Inquisitors arrived plus one I bought last time we were there. I used to have a collection on Bracca. Nothing fancy, and I didn’t always know what was on them until after I cleaned them up and played them, but I’d try to save up to buy a new one every so often. It was one of the few things I cared about. They’ve probably all been sold by now,” he finished bitterly.

“I’m sorry you had to leave everything behind,” she said, painfully sincere.

Cal just nodded. It wasn’t like he missed Bracca itself. The planet was grey and wet and working for the guild was hell, but he’d been so happy when he could finally afford to move out of Prauf’s place. His apartment may have been cramped and leaked more often than not, but it had been his space and his alone with no echoes to bother him.

He hadn’t had a lot of things, partly thanks to how he was raised in the temple, and partly because he rarely had any money to buy anything beyond the essentials, but he’d spent years collecting his music chips. He’d find them in hidden compartments in wrecks or save up to buy a few before their wages got slashed again. Prauf had gifted him one every year since first giving him his headphones. There were good memories attached to each one. If he could keep only one thing from that accursed place, it would be that little box of chips.

They arrived at the station the following day without incident. Cere had been monitoring comms but there was no word yet of an Imperial bounty for any of them yet. Cal was sure that was going to change sooner rather than later. As before, Greez stayed behind to refuel and check the Mantis for damage after their flight through Kashyyyk.

“We’ve got to be quick this time,” Cere said as they headed down the loading ramp. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Think so. BD can help.” BD gave an excited chirp from Cal’s shoulder. The little droid couldn’t remember being on a space station before and was looking forward to scanning as much as he could.

“Do you have enough credits?”

Cal only had the four left over from his last trip. He didn’t know how much music chips were usually worth away from Bracca, but it should be enough to buy one since the last one only cost three. Maybe he could get two if they were damaged. As long as it was intact he could clean it up and get it working again. “Probably?” he said, more of a question than a statement.

Cere pulled a face and dug around in her pocket before passing over a small handful. “Just in case,” she said. “Meet me back here like before. I won’t be long. And be careful.”

“I always am,” he said pointedly. It wasn’t like he could forget about the echoes when they ruled every waking moment of his life, and frequently the sleeping ones too. She gave him an understanding nod before heading straight into the crowd. They had landed on a lower level this time, so Cal followed the signs for the turbolift. He stuck his headphones on and turned up the volume, hoping to drown out the voices pulling him in different directions.

The crowd wasn’t as dense as it was before, allowing Cal to slip through with relative ease, keeping his hands in his pockets to avoid touching anything. Despite his best efforts, it was inevitable that he brushed against some echoes on the way.

“Don’t forget to bring the denta beans. Kiruk was really pissed off last time.”

Cal kept his eyes on the sign for the turbolift, trying to focus on his goal. BD helped keep him on track when he started to drift. The lift was pretty crammed when he finally found it, but he managed to squeeze in, pressed between the wall and a towering Besalisk. They way they were all packed in reminded him of the morning train on Bracca, everyone wishing they were anywhere else already.

“Can we get the blue one? Please! I really want it!”

It only took a minute for the lift to reach the right floor, but it felt like an eternity. He stumbled out and took a few seconds to get his bearings. “The guy I talked to last time said the shop had purple lights,” he said to BD. He couldn’t see anything from where he was standing so he ventured back into the crowd, winding between the dense stalls and shopfronts, trusting BD to keep track of the way back.

Eventually he rounded a corner to be met by the most violently purple neon lights he’d ever seen shining halfway down the alley. “Yeah, that’s pretty hard to miss,” he said. BD whirred in agreement. The shop itself was barely wider than the Mantis, more violet light spilling out the narrow door. Cal wished he had a welding mask to shield his eyes. He couldn’t even say he had one on Bracca to miss, his having broken two years ago after a close call with a faulty saw. Squinting against the light, he stepped inside.

The shop wasn’t much bigger inside. Shelves overflowing with what looked like random junk lined the walls with two more rows filling the middle of the room. Everything looked like had passed hands between at least three people already. The room thrummed with low level echoes, the sheer number of them pressing in from all directions, voices curling around his mind like smoke, urging him to reach out. A headache was already forming, pressure building behind his eyes. Though the off-putting choice in lighting may be partially to blame.

“Hey, kid!” a disgruntled Twi’lek called from a hole in the back wall that evidently served as the counter, the only place illuminated by normal light. His skin was almost the same hue, though slightly pinker. From his tone Cal guessed he’d already tried to get his attention, but it was hard to hear him over the cacophony. “You lost?”

“Someone told me you sold music chips?” he said, more of a question than an answer.

“On your left,” the Twi’lek said, turning back to whatever piece of tech he was fiddling with. BD hopped off his back and started scanning. Which was just as well since Cal really didn’t want to have to touch anything he didn’t have to.

The shelves were piled high with what looked to Cal like assorted bits of junk. He didn’t recognise most of it, being more familiar with parts of ships than day to day tech. There were a few peeling labels in scrawled Aurebesh that were barely legible. Some of the crates claimed to contain fuses, screws and similar odds and ends while most were completely blank. Cal didn’t want to start pulling them all out just to check, preferring to leave that to BD. He’d told Cere he’d be careful, and he fully intended to prove to her he knew what he was doing.

He scanned the shelves with his eyes, trying to read the scant few labels. It was hard not to get distracted though. Between the boxes were larger parts that didn’t neatly fit in a box. Pipes, power packs, components Cal couldn’t even guess the use for. Curiosity getting the better of him, he reached for what looked like a bent pipe with bits of tubing coming out of it. There was nothing to indicate what it was or what it was for, but there was a faint echo clinging to it.

Her fingers moved deftly over the controls, keeping in time perfectly with the band she’d spent countless hours practicing. She couldn’t believe they’d finally got their first gig! They might even make some credits with the room as packed as it was. The song ended, the room filling with applause while they prepared for the next one.

The echo faded quickly along with the blaring music, the cantina giving way to harsh light and musty shelves. Cal took a closer look at what he now knew to be an instrument, his mind able to fill in the gaps of what he was looking at, though still unable to put a name to it. The woman who used to own it had been so passionate about her music. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened for her beloved instrument to end up here.

With an excited beep, BD announced he’d found the music chips. He nudged a small box on the bottom shelf, hidden behind yet more junk. Cal brushed against another echo as he reached for it, but it was weak enough that he could keep it in the back of his mind, letting feelings of disappointment wash over him as he pulled the box out.

“Great,” he said dryly upon looking at the contents. It was indeed filled with tiny music chips, but fitting with the apparent aesthetics of the shop, they had been left in a loose pile. Many of them lacked any kind of label or identification, and those that had it were still dirty and corroded. He could probably fix them up given enough time, but it was going to be pure luck if he found something he liked.

He took the box over to the counter to make use of the slightly better light. The Twi’lek only glanced up at him, still focused on his own work. “How much are these?”

“Five credits each, but I’ll give you one for free if you buy four.”

Cal quickly dug through his pockets for the credits Cere had given him and counted them up. “I’ve only got seventeen,” he said sheepishly.

“Eh, close enough. Most folk don’t even look at them.”

It was a tempting offer, but he was half hoping to find something to fix his busted headphones since this place seemed to have enough parts lying around. He took them off from where they rested around his neck and placed them on the counter. “You wouldn’t have anything I could fix these with, would you? The speaker’s busted.”

That finally got the shopkeeper’s attention. He put down what he was working on and picked up Cal’s headphones, holding them under the lamp. He pulled off the casing to inspect the damage. It didn’t take him long to come to the same conclusion Cal had. “This is beyond saving,” he announced with a shake of his head. “I’ve got some replacements lying around, but they’re a little more than seventeen credits.”

“Yeah, thought so,” he said dejectedly as the Twi’lek handed them back.

Five music chips it was then. If he could figure out which ones he wanted. None of them carried echoes which made sifting through them much safer. He immediately began setting aside the ones that were beyond saving. Maybe someone else would be able to do something with them, but Cal had no problem admitting they were beyond his skills.

He tried picking out ones with names on them, either on a stuck on label or scratched onto the chip itself. None of them had complete names on them, torn off, scribbled over or faded beyond all recognition. He did manage to find one that looked like it might have “Agasar” scrawled on it. Hoping it wasn’t the one he already had, he set it aside.

BD buzzed a warning that if they wanted to get back to the Mantis on time, they should leave soon. Cal hummed in acknowledgement and started picking chips based on which ones looked the cleanest. He doubted that in their current state any of them would work straight away which unfortunately meant using his headphones to test them was out of the question.

A couple minutes later he’d made his selection, placing all his credits on the counter. The shopkeeper took them without a word, counting them quickly before nodding. Cal took that as his cue to take the chips and put them in his pocket. He muttered a quick thanks before heading out, putting the box back on the shelf as he passed.

He had to squint as he emerged from the shop, his eyes having to readjust to normal light. How the shopkeeper sat there all day under those lights, Cal would never know. Headphones back on, he headed back to the turbolift. There was a dull pounding in his skull now, but he honestly couldn’t tell if it was from the echoes or the eyestrain. Either way, he resolved to lie down in the dark once he got back to the Mantis. Maybe take a painkiller in case it was just from the awful lights.

Cere was already waiting at the exit tunnel, waving him over as soon as she spotted him. “I was starting to worry something had happened,” she said once he was within earshot.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. “Just took a while to find the right place.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Sort of. They had chips, but they couldn’t fix my headphones. I’d have to get a replacement.”

“I did notice they were broken. What happened?”

“Got busted on the train back on Bracca. I didn’t think anything could be done but I asked anyway. One side still works though,” he added. It wasn’t too bad really. While music was more effective when he could fully block out the world around him, he’d already gotten used to just having it in the one ear.

Cere gave a thoughtful hum. “Come on. Best not to keep Greez waiting.”

The rest of the journey to Zeffo passed without incident. Tension remained between the three of them, but it no longer suffocated their interactions. That didn’t mean Cal liked it. He still felt like he was walking on unstable ground, having to test his weight with every step lest he fall through. He tried to shut himself in the engine room as much as he could, busying himself by cleaning his new music chips.

One was completely beyond saving. The corrosion was so bad it took Cal the best part of two hours just to strip it, only to find most of the tracks were corrupted beyond recognition. He had slightly more luck with the one he thought had “Agasar” scratched into the casing. That one was a little easier to fix up and sure enough, once he slotted it into his headphones he was greeted by the familiar heavy basslines of his favourite band. Some of the tracks were the same, but others were new.

He was in the middle of cleaning up another when Greez’s voice crackled through the ship’s comms. “We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in five minutes.” With a sigh, Cal set down the chip and the small brush he’d been using to scrub the rust off in favour of grabbing his lightsaber. BD jumped on his back and together they headed out to the cockpit.

Cere was already there, headset on and monitoring comms. “Any sign of trouble?” he asked as he sat in the co-pilot’s chair, BD hopping onto the console.

“Not yet. I’m mostly picking up traffic from Project Auger, but it doesn’t sound like they’ve found anything significant.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“The Empire knows we’ve been here already. There’s a good chance they’re expecting us to return.”

“Which means they’ve probably sent an Inquisitor,” he said grimly. Between their last visit to Zeffo and the fight on Kashyyyk, Cal had gotten plenty of combat practice. Stormtroopers were easy, though Purge troopers posed a significant threat. An Inquisitor however was a much greater foe. Cal wasn’t stupid, he knew he wouldn’t be able to defeat one in a fight. And if the Empire had sent the two from Bracca then he was as good as dead.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cere asked. “We can stay in orbit for a while, figure something else out.”

And there it was.

“Why won’t you trust me?”

“I can do it,” he said, partially out of spite. “I know how to lay low. I did it for five years.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, but infiltrating an active Imperial base isn’t the same as pretending to be a normal citizen in a busy city. I’m just not sure this is the safest way of doing things.”

“Since when was any of this safe?” he snapped, turning in his chair to face her. BD gave a low warble, his antennas lying flat. Cal made himself take a deep breath, reigning in his emotions. “I haven’t been anywhere “safe” for more than five minutes since I was nine. I know what I’m doing, and what I told you on Kashyyyk doesn’t change any of that. So, if you both could just trust me a little, that would be great.”

He turned back around to glare out the viewport at the blue light of hyperspace, arms crossed. He didn’t want to have to keep having this conversation. Every little thing he did was now under scrutiny, requiring permission like he was a youngling. It was infuriating. Greez hadn’t said a word the entire time, but tension rolled off him in waves.

They’d reverted back to realspace by the time Cere next spoke. “You’re right,” she said softly. Cal didn’t turn around this time, staring resolutely at Zeffo as it grew bigger in front of them. “I failed my Padawan, and I was afraid I would fail you too. But my fear shouldn’t be your burden. And I’m sorry I made it that way. You’re right. You’ve already proven yourself capable. If you tell me you can do this, then I will believe you.”

“I can.”

“Then it’s settled. Captain, bring us down.”

“Aye aye,” he muttered, pushing on the on the controls to bring the Mantis down. It didn’t feel like much of a victory. More like drawing a reluctant promise with the hope it would be held. He didn’t want to let himself be lulled into a false sense of security. Cere may have agreed with him in this instance, but for all Cal knew she’d go right back to treating him like a child. Only time would tell if this fragile peace would last. For now, Cal kept his eyes on the scanner as they approached the atmosphere, the blue-grey planet looming.

Chapter Text

Sparks erupted, raining down on Cal. The bolt had narrowly missed him, melting the wall behind him instead. He ducked behind the corner, taking cover as a rain of blaster fire unleashed. They’d really stepped up the security since their last visit with more men, blasters and discipline. It wouldn’t matter. Cal was going to make sure he was the only one leaving this fight alive.  

There was a break in the barrage. Cal seized the opportunity, diving out of cover, lightsaber raised. He sent a couple of bolts back to their source, hitting the stormtroopers square in the chest. Five remained.  

“For now.”  

He reached out with the Force and pushed, sending them all staggering. Sprinting, he closed the distance. Before any of them could so much as raise their blasters again, Cal had already cut one of them down. Sinking into the Force, he let it guide his blade. Sparks showered down from the ceiling where a stray bolt scored a charred line, panic making their already poor aim even worse. With an overhead strike, Cal slashed across a chest plate, spinning to stab through another’s stomach in one fluid movement.  

BD shrieked, joined by a cacophony shouting at him to take cover. He raised his lightsaber as he darted behind an overturned crate, deflecting more bolts. They didn’t hit the troopers, but they didn’t hit Cal either, so he counted it as a win.  

He stayed low behind the crate, waiting for an opening. There were only two of them now. All he needed was to charge one more time. They stood no chance in close quarters, their strength lying in numbers at range. He tugged on the Force, waiting for its signal.  

“Time it right. You mess up, it’s over.”  

“We need backup down here!” one of the stormtroopers shouted into his comm, taking his finger off the trigger to do so.  

“Now!”  

With only one blaster firing, it was simple for Cal to deflect the bolt back the way it came, melting through white plastoid. He closed the gap, slashing the final trooper across the chest before he could bring his weapon back up to fire. At last, the corridor fell silent. Cal never took any pleasure in taking a life, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it either. It was necessary; him or them. It wasn’t like they thought twice about killing him or anyone else who dared to so much as look at them funny.  

“Which way?” he asked BD while he caught his breath, securing his deactivated lightsaber on his belt. A partially completed holomap appeared in front of him. BD had accessed the floorplan when he sliced into the system to get them inside, giving them a much clearer idea of where they needed to go. Most of the digging was taking place somewhere below, but the map was incomplete. “Looks like our options are try to go through the base or find a way around outside.”  

BD gave a low bwee-beep, telling Cal that trying to fight through the base was pushing their luck. “Outside it is.” BD highlighted a corridor ahead that led outside. Cal moved swiftly, light on his feet and senses attuned to the Force for any sign of danger. Eventually they came to the underside of a landing platform. “Which way?” he asked, looking over the edge at the empty chasm below.  

Up, came the reply.  

The wind whipped at his clothes, strong gusts threatening to send him over the edge. He held fast, keeping his ground. Bracca wasn’t much different and often had the added difficulty of the constant rain, making everything slick. It would take more than a bit of wind to knock him off-balance. He went over to the wall and grabbed on to a narrow ledge, testing his weight on it before pulling himself off the ground.  

Carefully he made his way along the underside of the landing platform, relying on the Force to propel himself across the large gaps. Not for the first time, Cal was glad he wasn’t afraid of heights as he dangled off the support beams. Fog swirled below him, obscuring the ground far below. There was no telling how far the drop was, but it was surely enough to kill him.  

“Wait,” the voices said, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t need to reach into the Force to find the source of the danger. A deafening roar erupted from the platform above, followed by a burst of blaster fire. BD whirred from his shoulder.  

“That doesn’t sound good,” Cal said. A cut off scream pierced the air, followed by a sickening crack. A stormtrooper flew over the edge, his body limp. There wasn’t anything he could do from underneath so he kept climbing, clearing the last gap to the end of the platform where there was a maintenance ladder.  

Of all the things that could be happening, a jotaz on the landing platform wasn’t one he’d been expecting. It must have climbed down the mountainside and was now tearing the stormtroopers apart. Cal waited and watched as it grabbed one by the leg and flung him over the edge. He let the jotaz do his job for him, letting it chase off the remaining troopers before pulling himself up.  

He took two steps before it spotted him, fixing him with its gaze and letting out a roar, saliva flying from its jagged teeth. Cal grabbed his lightsaber and ignited it, assuming a defensive stance. This wasn’t going to be like fighting stormtroopers. Its hide was far too thick for a swipe of his lightsaber to do any major damage.  

“Don’t go chargin’ in and getting yourself killed fer nothin’.”  

The jotaz charged, rapidly clearing the distance between them. It swiped at him with its massive talons, each one as long as Cal’s arm. He ducked under it and rolled, stabbing his lightsaber into its side before getting out of reach. It shrieked and stumbled towards the edge in an effort to get away from him but remained standing. Cal tried to push it into the chasm with the Force, but it barely wobbled.  

There was no time to try again. It turned on him and roared, charging once more with teeth and talons bared. As it tried to grab him again, Cal dropped under its arm, sliding on his knees. He slashed the thinner hide across its size as he went before getting back to his feet. It roared with anger, swiping again with its talons and spinning with the momentum.  

Cal’s blade caught its back, carving a line in its flesh. Moving faster than a creature of its size had any right to, it turned on him. Before he could move out of the way, its fist connected with his side in a backhanded strike, sending him flying. He landed in a heap, rolling before coming to a stop. His chest seized from the impact, making it impossible to draw a breath. Despite this, he forced himself back to his feet, lightsaber at the ready.  

It came charging at him once more, bringing its arms down in a deadly overhead strike. Its talons slammed into the ground, Cal already out of the way. He brought his blade down on its arm, severing the limb. Before it could do anything more than roar, he leapt at it, plunging the tip of his weapon into its chest. With a gurgling cry, it went limp, falling in a heap.  

Cal sheathed his lightsaber, but sensing danger was still nearby kept it in hand. He braced his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His chest ached where he’d been hit, but it was dull enough that he was hopeful his ribs were just bruised and not broken. He really didn’t want to have to deal with that again so soon. “Stim,” he croaked to BD. There was a hiss as a canister was ejected and a second later Cal snatched it out the air, injecting it in one fluid move.  

The adrenaline hit first, a sudden jolt to his system. The painkillers followed shortly after, just enough to take the edge off. He took a couple of deep breaths before straightening back up. “Alright. Let’s go.”  

He barely made it through the blast doors before a squad of stormtroopers flooded the corridor “There! It’s the Jedi!” one of them cried as they all raised their blasters. With a groan Cal ignited his lightsaber and held it at the ready. Those with blasters opened fire while the rest charged at him with their batons in hand. Deflecting their bolts was beginning to feel like second nature as he allowed the Force to guide his hand. He didn’t let it make him complacent though. That was a surefire way to end up dead.  

With a bit of careful aiming, those with blasters went down without much resistance, leaving him with the baton wielders. He charged at the nearest target, cutting his hand off before slashing across his chest. He sank into the Force, expanding his awareness and boosting his agility. The stormtroopers didn’t stand a chance. With a flash of blue the rest of the troopers fell in a smoking heap. Cal didn’t hang around, venturing deeper into the base.  

“Which way now?” he asked BD. His friend directed him down another corridor, winding through a maintenance tunnel before coming to a broken, rusted grate. Cold air blew in through the slats, grey daylight pooling on the floor. With a shove from the Force, the grate exploded outwards. Leaning out the newly formed hole in the wall, Cal could see an icy slope below them.  

“Down there?” he asked.  

Down, came the answer. “Hold tight,” he said before leaping out. He landed on his feet and immediately began sliding. It took all his focus to remain standing and not go tumbling, but he made it to the bottom of the slope in one piece. He looked back up to the base looming over them, an ugly metal protrusion in the ancient mountainside. “No way we’re getting back that way,” he said.  

The Imperials must have another way back up, BD beeped. They clearly didn’t come this way so if they could find the dig site, they’ll also find a way up. “Good point.” Turning his back to the base, he headed down the rest of the slope. The path ahead was treacherous, loose gravel and ice shifting under his boots. It gradually narrowed as it wound its way around the side of the cliff, forcing him to shuffle along sideways.  

Made to face the cliff itself, he didn’t see what was behind him until BD tapped him on the shoulder. Initially he thought it was just another mountain, but then he stopped and looked closer. It wasn’t a mountain at all, but a Venator, buried in the ground on its side. One massive wing remained intact, jutting up into the sky high enough for the tip to be obscured by the thick clouds. It looked just like the Albedo Brave .  

It wasn’t of course. They’d never even come close to this sector, and even if they had, he’d seen it blow up with his own eyes above Bracca. There was nothing left of it but unrecognisable chunks, most of which had burnt up in the atmosphere, the rest hauled to the surface to be scrapped along with everything else. That wasn’t his home, but it almost certainly had been to another Jedi.  

He tried not to dwell on it as he shuffled along but was made to when he finally reached stable ground. He was stood on a small, muddy patch of land, a murky lake surrounding him on all sides. An outer ring from the ship’s exhaust had crashed here, embedded in the dirt. More debris littered the ground leading up to the Venator , forming the only visible path ahead. “Guess we’ve got to go inside after all,” he said. BD gave a mournful warble.  

It wasn’t like Cal hadn’t seen plenty of Venators on Bracca. He’d spent far too many years picking them apart, fending off the memories they brought and burying them deep. But it was different seeing one where it had crashed, knowing no one had been inside since the war. It raised too many questions, none of which could be answered. Had it crashed before the clones turned? Were there any Jedi on board? Did they leave anything behind? It was tempting to try to find a way inside, but that wasn’t what they were here for. The Empire had uncovered another tomb, and Cordova had surely hidden another encrypted message inside. He had to get there before it was too late. The Venator would get to keep its secrets.  

He climbed up through the empty shell of an exhaust shaft, detached from the ship and half buried in mud. “Danger,” the voices said as the Force prickled down his spine. He grabbed his lightsaber, ready to act. A telltale beep sounded above, followed by a streak of red. Cal deflected it back the way it came, glancing along the side of the probe droid that had fired it. “Damn it, they know we’re here.”  

Another shot, this time reflected to hit the droid directly in its optics. It dropped out of the air, appendages jerking as it short circuited before falling still. Another beep from further ahead. Another bolt. Not knowing where the droid was, Cal let the bolt strike the ground, running to clear the tunnel created by the wreck as fast as possible. This place was crawling with droids, and now they knew where he was, more were surely going to come.  

He leapt across a gap when he ran out of ground, the droids following easily through the air. BD ran ahead when they came to a door, slicing it in time for Cal to dart inside before sealing it. “That was too close,” he said, bending over to catch his breath. BD beeped in agreement, his scomp link still working in the controls. “Found anything?”  

According to BD-1 the excavation site was close now, though he couldn’t access the schematics from here. “Where are we anyway?” he asked, looking around what appeared to be a small room. Instead of answering, BD warned him to hold on. “Hold on to what?” The room jolted, metal shrieking as gears came to life. Cal stumbled but managed to remain standing. It was a lift, not a room, and they were heading down.  

“Something’s not right.”  

Cal looked around the lift, worried it might fail. It mattered little if it got stuck since there was a hatch in the ceiling he could climb out of, but there was also the chance the whole thing could drop suddenly. BD asked what he was doing when he pressed his ear to the wall, listening for anything that sounded like it was stuck or breaking. “Something’s not right,” he said, repeating what he’d heard.  

Unable to find anything wrong with the lift itself, settled for pacing in the small space, waiting for them to reach the bottom. The doors hissed open and Cal was out in an instant but the bad feeling in his gut had only grown stronger. Whatever danger he’d been warned of still lay ahead. “Be careful. Don’t draw any attention to yourself,” he said to BD as he walked through the tunnel, receiving a beep of acknowledgement in return.  

The air down here was cold and damp, the cavernous space reverberating with the sounds of heavy machinery. Below them lay a sprawl of gangways spanning the dig site, criss-crossing over one another. He wasn’t sure what exactly he should be looking for, but something in the back of his mind told him to keep going down, drawing him closer to the source of the bad feeling. Stormtroopers and security droids patrolled below. They didn’t pose much of a threat, but it would be better if he didn’t immediately alert them to his presence.  

“Any idea how to get down?” BD stood up on his shoulder to get a better look. Climbing down was out of the question due to the way the gangways were placed. He’d somehow have to jump several meters just to clear the gap. Even with the Force, he wouldn’t make it. With a beep, BD pointed out the cables running between the platforms. “What about them?” Cal asked. They could use them like a zipline and move between them. “You can do that?” BD nodded his head and jumped off, using his boosters to fly over to the nearest cable.  

Cal followed him. Without overthinking it, he jumped into open air, holding tight to BD’s chassis. He had to adjust his grip as they went, quickly gaining speed. Cal resisted the urge to yell with excitement. They were trying to be stealthy after all. He landed lightly behind, a pair of stormtroopers several meters away continuing their patrol with their backs turned. He slipped through a nearby door, out of sight.  

“You’re full of surprises,” he said to BD, keeping his voice low as he crept through the tunnel carved into the rock. BD gave a low whirr. Carefully, Cal made his way deeper underground, ducking behind corners and carefully timing more ziplines to avoid being spotted. The further he went, the stronger the feeling of unease became.  

“This doesn’t look right. We should go back.”  

“We’ve got to find the tomb,” he murmured, waiting for a security droid to pass so he could dart down the corridor. It didn’t matter how he felt. He couldn’t let the Empire find the tomb first. If they took or destroyed whatever Cordova had left behind for them, then the mission was over. His messages would remain unreachable and they would have no more leads to follow.  

“I don’t like this one bit.”  

The droid walked right by Cal’s hiding spot. It would continue in that direction for another few seconds before turning and coming back the way it had gone, giving him enough time to find cover. Quietly and quickly, he slipped behind it and ran, counting the seconds. He slipped inside an open door, leading to a tunnel leading down. He couldn’t sense any immediate danger ahead so followed it down, winding through the carved rock.  

“I don’t think we should go this way.”  

“Hate to say it, but there’s no other way down.” So on he went, deeper and deeper. He didn’t stop until he came face to helmeted face with a trooper in black armour.  

“Jedi!” the purge trooper cried, drawing a pair of batons from his belt. His weapons sparked to life, electricity crackling in the air. Cal acted in kind, grabbing his lightsaber from his belt and igniting it, its low hum almost comforting against the sound of the batons. He took a defensive stance, planting his feet firmly as the trooper came running at him. He lunged at Cal, trying to slip past his guard, but Cal was faster, bringing his blade down to shove the baton aside.  

The trooper brought his other baton down in an overhead strike. There wasn’t enough time to block that too, so Cal shoved him away with the Force, his back hitting the rough wall with a crack. Cal closed the gap while his opponent was still dazed, but purge troopers were well trained. He moved faster than Cal expected, dodging before he could land a blow, scoring the rock with the tip of his blade.  

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Jedi scum,” he hissed, his voice heavily modulated through his helmet. Without missing a beat he came charging at Cal, swinging wide. He brought his lightsaber up to parry. His arms strained with the effort required, the trooper changing tactics to break his defence rather than slip through. Cal wouldn’t let him. With the aid of the Force, he shoved him back. Before he could put his own defence up, he slashed at black plastoid, feeling the resistance as he made contact. It wasn’t deep, not enough to kill, but the heat was surely felt.  

The trooper staggered back. Cal followed, keeping the gap closed. He raised his batons to strike again, but pain made him slow. In one fluid move, Cal struck him down without fanfare. His lifeless body fell, the stench of burnt plastoid and flesh filling the small space. “We should go,” he said, holstering his lightsaber. The presence of a purge trooper meant the Empire must have expected him to return. And where there was one, there were bound to be more. The pool of dread in his gut persisted, and now he had a fairly good idea why.  

He set off down the tunnel, crossing another gangway back to the other side and sneaking past another couple of droids. Eventually he came to a dead end, the only option a turbolift heading down.  

“Don’t go. Please.” He pressed the button to call it, only having to wait a couple of seconds for the doors to open. “It’s not too late.” He hesitated. Should he listen to what they were saying? They’d been helpful when he was fighting, but could they be trusted on this? Did he even have a choice? There wasn’t any other way to the tomb, and he had to get inside before the Empire destroyed everything.  

From his back BD asked if he was okay with a soft chirp. “Yeah,” he said, little more than a breathless whisper. “There’s something bad waiting for us down there. Or someone.” He wasn’t alone, BD reminded him. They would face whatever it was together. “Thanks buddy,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No turning back now.”  

He stepped inside the lift, the doors closing behind him. With a slight jolt it descended, bringing him deeper into the cavern. He tried to breathe through the worst of the building dread, trying to release some of it back into the Force. The warning was well and truly received so really there was no reason to get so worked up about it. The turbolift came to a juddering stop, the doors opening a moment later.  

“Run!”  

A dark figure stood at in the centre of a large area that had been cleared. Her black helmet gleamed in the overhead lights, split by a red visor. “Cal Kestis,” the Second Sister hissed, drawing out his name. “How predictable.”  

“She knows you. How does she know you?”  

Slowly he stepped out of the turbolift, approaching a predator and hoping it didn’t maul him at the slightest provocation. The dread turned to sharp fear, his heart pounding in his chest.  

“Oh yes, I know your name,” she continued as she began to pace leisurely, “I know your past. And most importantly about Cordova.” She turned her back to him as she spoke as though they were having a pleasant chat. Cal took the opportunity to reach for his lightsaber, feeling better for having the cool metal in his hand.  

“Tell me, where did he hide the holocron?”  

“Don’t say anything!” As if he ever would. The only answer he gave came in the form of the hum of his blade as he readied himself for the inevitable fight. “Outstanding,” she snarled, turning to face him and drawing her own blade.  

He barely had time to react as she flew towards him. He raised his lightsaber to parry but at the last moment she leapt in the air, diving at him from above. He rolled out of the way as she carved a line into the ground where he’d been standing just a second ago. He’d barely gotten back to his feet when she was advancing on him again. Hoping to buy himself some time, he tried to push her back with the Force, but instead of falling like the purge trooper had, she moved with it, keeping her balance.  

It barely bought him enough time to bring his guard up. Her attacks were ferocious, the power of the dark side behind every strike. It was all he could do to keep his defences up. She was too fast for him to counter. All she needed was for him to drop his guard for just a fraction of a second. It didn’t take long for his arms to start aching, having to fend off blow after blow without respite in between. She was wearing him down and it was only a matter of time before she broke through.  

He sank into the Force, using it to give him the strength to remain standing. The downside was that the voices became that much louder, a constant stream of incoherent screaming overlaying cries for him to flee. As much as he wanted to run, there was nowhere for him to go. The turbolift was sealed and the only other exit was covered by a thick metal fence. If he turned his back, the Second Sister would make short work of cutting him down. He had to stand his ground a little longer and hope an opportunity presented itself sooner rather than later.  

“You cannot hope to defeat me,” she sneered as he blocked another barrage of strikes. “You are nothing.” Through her helmet, he could tell she was as out of breath as he was. One of them would break soon, and Cal had no intention of it being him.  

“Watch carefully,” a voice said, the first thing since the fight started that wasn’t panic fuelled nonsense. Cal did as it said, focusing on the Second Sister’s movements. They both knew she was the better fighter. She probably had years of continuous training while Cal hadn’t so much as ignited his master’s lightsaber in the previous five years on Bracca. But that arrogance would be her downfall. Sure enough she stepped back, adjusting her grip before coming in for another strike. Cal didn’t give her the chance, surging forward to close the distance. He brought his lightsaber down, slashing diagonally. It was far from perfect form, going slightly wide, but he felt the tip connect, drawing a pained cry from the Inquisitor.  

He tried to go for another hit while she was off-balance, but she held her hand out, catching him with the Force. He tried to resist her grip, but found himself being lifted into the air, muscles locked in place. She pulled back before thrusting her hand out. He flew through the air, helpless to stop himself.  

“Look out!”  

Instinctively he wrapped the Force around himself, cushioning the blow as he was sent through the fence, landing hard on his back. With the wind knocked out of him, he was slow to get back on his feet. The Second Sister stalked towards him, malicious intent bleeding through the Force. She lunged, covering the last few meters with unnatural speed, lightsaber poised to strike. Cal’s own lightsaber had been knocked from his hand. He didn’t know where it had gone. All he could do was raise his hand to protect himself, preparing to push her away with the Force.  

A red energy field flashed to life, just in time to block her blade. A laser gate. He’d crashed through a laser gate. A beep from BD drew his attention. He had his scomp link in the control panel, activating it just in time.  

Cal scrambled to his feet, spotting his lightsaber and grabbing it, turning to face the Inquisitor. He didn’t know if there was any way she could deactivate it from her side and would rather not be caught unawares. She paced on the other side, jabbing her blade against the energy field. Lightsabers couldn’t penetrate it, Cal knew from experience. She was stuck there, but so was he.  

“You’re learning,” she said, holstering her lightsaber. “Not quite as gifted as Cere’s last apprentice but not bad.”  

“She knows.”  

“How does she know?”  

“She killed them.”  

“You’ve been keeping count,” he said with dawning horror.  

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. Cere was never very good at keeping secrets.”  

“Cere.”  

“She knows Cere.”  

“Knows us.”  

He had too many questions, the voices adding their own, all piling on top of each other. It was getting hard to think straight, let alone voice any of them.  

“She was weak,” the Second Sister continued. “Cracked in an Imperial torture chair. Surrendered the location of her naïve Padawan.”  

“She’s lying.”  

“Cere’s lying.”  

“They never would have found me…” She reached up with both hands for her helmet, the seal hissing as she lifted it off her head. “If it wasn’t for her.” She let the helmet fall from her hands, her unnaturally yellow eyes fixed on Cal. “She betrayed me.”  

“No!”  

“Don’t listen!”  

“Can’t trust anyone!”  

“You’re Trilla,” he said, needing to confirm what he was hearing.  

“In the flesh.”  

Blinding pain erupted in his skull as the voices cried out. He screwed his eyes closed against the pain, cradling his temple. “Agh, stop!” he cried, uncaring int he moment what the Second Sister, Trilla , thought of the display.  

It was impossible to deny what she was saying when the evidence was on her side. Cere had lied to him; told him she didn’t tell the Empire anything . But here stood her former Padawan, twisted into an Inquisitor, claiming Cere had betrayed her.  

“I won’t let you manipulate me,” he said once he got the pain under control, turning away from her. He needed to talk to Cere, couldn’t let the voices cloud his judgement. Maybe she had been telling the truth and hadn’t known her Padawan was captured and not dead.  

“So sure, are you?” she called, stopping him in his tracks. “When faced with the choice to protect herself or her Padawan, she chose self-interest. She’ll sell you out too.”  

“Don’t listen.”  

“To her.”  

“To anyone.”  

“I can handle myself,” he said, facing her once more with false confidence. He’d survived on Bracca and had managed to hold her off after all.  

“Can you afford to take that chance? Your new master harbours great darkness. The look on her face when she saw what they had done to me. As I am now. She turned.”  

“No. She wouldn’t.”  

“Would she?”  

“Did she know all along?”  

“She exposed her true nature. She used the dark side.”  

“She wouldn’t!”  

“She can’t.”  

“She cut herself off from the Force.” Even if what she was saying was true, Cere no longer used the Force. She had separated herself so completely from it that she didn’t even have a presence in it.  

“It makes sense though, doesn’t it?”  

“Why she cut herself off.”  

“Why she doesn’t talk about it.”  

“Oh? How long before she cracks and betrays you too?”  

“She already has.”  

“Stop it!” he snapped, unsure if it was directed at Trilla or the voices. He was distantly aware he was shaking. He couldn’t think straight; couldn’t separate facts from the venom she was dripping in his ears, poisoning his thoughts.  

Trilla gave him a wicked smile. “Is that who you want with you when you find the holocron? What would Jaro Tapal say?”  

“You have no right to mention his name!” he snarled, stepping up to the laser gate.  

“I wonder…” she said, her voice infuriatingly measured throughout all of this, “what would he think if he could see his Padawan now?” she said, all but spitting the title. “Skulking in the shadows with a betrayer. Granting her access to a legion of impressionable students.”  

“No. I won’t let anyone touch them.”  

“Can’t have more blood on my hands.”  

“Just another failure.”  

“They’re lying! They’re all lying!”  

Trilla’s expression was frighteningly blank, her eyes boring into him. Once she’d found whatever she was looking for, she turned her back to walk towards the turbolift. She held her hand out, her helmet floating up for her to grasp. “I thought the same thing once.”  

He wanted to run, to scream, to fight. To do something to make it go away.  

“It all adds up.”  

No. No he couldn’t let her get into his head.  

“Too late.”    

Chapter Text

“She lied!”  

“Can’t trust a damn thing around here.”  

“You’re on your own.”  

“No one cares.”  

“They’re using you.”  

Around and around the voices went. An endless storm trapped in Cal’s head with no sign of stopping. He’d tried to contact Cere, to find some reassurance that things weren’t as bad as he feared, but the other end was silent. It was only once he’d descended into the tomb proper that Trilla’s voice began to haunt him. Initially he’d thought he’d picked up an echo from her somehow, but when she replied to his snarky comments, he realised she must have sliced his comm.  

Her taunts melted seamlessly into the cacophony, sowing seeds of doubt and fear. Knowing what she was trying to do was of little use when his thoughts were overridden by everyone else in his head. It was a miracle he’d made it out of that tomb at all.  

The most frightening part of it all wasn’t that Trilla knew so much about him and their mission, but that he found himself agreeing with the voices the longer he was made to listen. It couldn’t be a good sign. Bad things happened when they sounded like they were making sense. It was impossible not to think about it though, and the more he did, the worse they became. An endless downward spiral, coiling tighter and tighter. His body ran on autopilot, his senses blunted to the world around him to the point that he ran straight into an otherwise oblivious squad of stormtroopers.  

They raised their blasters and opened fire. Instincts kicking in, he raised his lightsaber and reflected the bolts back the way they came. Many went wide, striking the walls instead of the enemy. Despite his inelegant form, he managed to deal with them quickly. Cal wasted no time when the last one fell, trying to focus on the directions BD was giving. He was sure he’d already taken a few wrong turns, but it was too late to turn back.  

“You’re a means to an end. Nothing more.”  

“BD, you’re going to have to turn your volume up,” he said when he missed yet another instruction from his friend, indicated by frantic tapping on his back. BD repeated himself, telling Cal to take the turbolift to the lower level. They were too far into the base now to risk trying to find where they’d first entered, but there were more tunnels somewhere below that would lead back to the Mantis .  

“What else have they hidden from us?”  

“Shh, shut up!” he snapped, hitting his head with the heel of his hand repeatedly. It made no difference. Hot tears prickled at his eyes, his throat tightening. He stopped dead in his tracks to press both hands to his eyes as though he could physically hold in the tears.  

BD let out a worried series of beeps. “No,” he said, his voice wavering. “No, I’m not alright. I-I can’t kriffing think!” he snapped. It wasn’t BD’s fault, but he wasn’t coping. He didn’t even have his headphones with him. He hadn’t thought he’d need them since he’d been doing so much better, and he certainly didn’t want to risk them getting broken beyond repair. Now he desperately wished he’d brought them anyway.  

“It’s because you’re weak.”  

“I know,” he croaked.  

BD let out an alarmed screech. Cal turned quickly, lightsaber already ignited, ready to face the approaching danger. More stormtroopers flooded the corridor, blasters at the ready. Most of their shots went wide, making it easier for Cal to deflect. If they had even a crumb of accuracy, Cal wasn’t sure he’d still be standing.  

He didn’t linger once the bodies hit the floor, running through the base and trying his best to follow BD’s directions. In the bowels of the base, they found a path leading to a series of icy caves. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not, but there was a sound akin to a heartbeat coming from deeper underground. “Is that real?” he asked, slowing down with trepidation.  

BD wasn’t sure what he was talking about so asked for clarification. “That… thumping noise?”  

It was real, BD confirmed. According to his map data, they were directly underneath a pulveriser. “Well, that explains it. Better hope it doesn’t break through any time soon.” Cal followed the noise, hoping it would bring him closer to the Mantis and a way out.  

“How do you know they won’t betray you?”  

“Why would they?” he asked, absently massaging his head.  

“They lied once!” a different voice roared, causing him to flinch. “ They’ll do it again!”  

“ Cere lied. Greez didn’t. And they both believe in this mission.” He’d been clinging to that truth like a lifeline. While Cere might not have been honest with him about some key facts, there was little doubt in his mind that she fully believed in restoring the Jedi. Betraying Cal to the Empire wouldn’t help that cause.  

“They’ll just steal the prize and make off with the profits.”  

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but they need me for now.”  

The voices fell back into incomprehensible noise, leaving him with a pounding headache and gut-churning anxiety. BD warbled at him, worried about his current mental state. “I’m managing,” he said, hoping there was some honesty in there. “We just need to get back to the Mantis and far away from this place.”  

The tunnel opened out into a large chamber. The concussive thump of the pulveriser directly overhead showered everything in flecks of ice and rock. The rest of the cavern was filled with various bits of Imperial mining equipment and lifts. A deep chasm right in the centre made it so the only way across was by going around. “Which one’s the way out?”  

BD directed him to climb the ledge on his right and circle around to the far side of the cavern. The lift there should bring them to the surface near the landing pad. Cal got to it, finding suitable handholds before pulling himself up. The entire cavern shook with every thud of the pulveriser, nearly shaking him free.  

After a bit of scrambling, he pulled himself over the edge. Wasting no time, Cal got to his feet and followed the path around towards the lifts. The rhythmic pounding of the pulveriser sent shockwaves through his skull as he passed directly underneath. The voices screamed and cried, pulling him in too many directions at once. The Force had become slippery, like trying to grasp smoke. Reaching out to it only caused pain, the noise getting impossibly louder. He would blame a combination of these things on the fact that he didn’t notice anything amiss until it was too late.  

A shield appeared in front of him, harsh blue light circling him. He reached for his lightsaber, igniting it before he’d even fully turned around. “Danger!” the voices shrieked as though he wasn’t already aware. Pain lanced through his head, disrupting his train of thought.  

Once the spots cleared from his vision, an imposing droid stood before him, the shield projector flashing at their feet. They had a blaster aimed directly at Cal’s chest and wasted no time firing off several shots. With a surge of adrenaline Cal sprang into action, deflecting the bolts as he began closing the distance between them.  

“Bounty hunters! We’ve got to go!” one voice said, the image of a dark corridor lit by red streaks flashing across his vision. Distracted, he stumbled. Slow to bring his lightsaber up to deflect the second volley, the reflected bolts went far too wide. One slipped past his guard, narrowly missing his leg but burning a hole in his trousers. It was only thanks to his tenuous grasp on the Force that he wasn’t riddled with burns.  

Cal wasn’t sure what to do. His head was too much of a mess to fight. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t think . Sinking into the Force like he normally did only made the voices louder, pain erupting in his skull. He was on his own without even the Force on his side.  

“If you weren’t so pathetically weak this wouldn’t be a problem.”  

Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on his lightsaber. Keeping the Force at arm’s length was the best plan he had for now. Squinting through wavering vision, he waited for the next round of blaster fire to commence.  

It was hard work, but he managed to angle a bolt back at the droid, striking it dead centre. It  stumbled but recovered quickly. By the time Cal realised it was about to charge at him, he barely had enough time to throw himself out of the way. He could only spare a second to make sure BD was still on his back, the bounty droid already swinging its giant fist at his head.  

“Move!” the voices shouted, ringing in his ears. He didn’t exactly have much choice but to obey, scrambling to his feet in an effort to remain in one piece. He slashed at the droid, hoping to take its arm off or disable it. With his senses off kilter his missed the mark, the tip of his lightsaber barely grazing the droid. It left a bright orange line of molten metal, but it wasn’t enough.  

“Useless!”  

“Try harder!”  

Cal grit his teeth, letting out a frustrated grunt. This would be a lot easier without a running commentary. He fended off several more blows from the droid, only just able to keep it at bay. He couldn’t strike back, nor could he wear it down. Droids didn’t tire like people, and while it was slow and ungainly, it hit hard.  

“Enough!” the droid rumbled, lifting its arm to fire off more shots from its wrist blaster. Cal deflected them, having to put all his concentration into it without the usual guidance from the Force. He didn’t see what the droid was doing with its other arm.  

“Watch out!” the voices cried; the only warning he got before fire seized his body. His lightsaber fell from his hand, the blade deactivating before it hit the ground. His muscles locked up as electricity surged through him. After an eternity he fell to the ground in a heap, utterly helpless as black swallowed his vision, the voices chasing him into the dark.  

*  

Pain registered before anything else, a bone deep ache that permeated his entire being. Then came the noise.  

“Wake up.”  

Cal tried to open his eyes. Light assaulted his senses, forcing him to close them again. He let out a groan, resisting the urge to curl into himself. A multitude of echoes pressed in on his consciousness, buzzing under his skin.  

“Wake up!”  

Reluctantly, Cal rolled onto his side. His muscles protested the movement, sore like he’d been working three days non-stop in the scrapyard. That couldn’t be right though, he’d left Bracca behind, with no intention of ever setting foot there again. Something wasn’t right.  

“Danger!”  

“Hnn, yeah, no shit,” he groaned. He cracked his eyes open again, prepared for the light this time. It wasn’t very bright, but it didn’t need to be with the pounding in his head. His head swan as he sat up, dark shapes dancing in his vision. He blinked several times to clear it, trying to get his eyes to focus.  

“Where are we?” he asked BD, looking around what looked like a large cell. The smell of used oil permeated the air. Wherever this was, he wasn’t in the ice caves anymore. When BD didn’t reply Cal turned to look for him in his usual place.  

BD wasn’t there, and for the first time Cal realised his comforting weight was missing. “BD?” he said, looking around the cell, hoping he was just sitting nearby. “BD-1!”  

“They took him! Save him, please!”   

“No one’s coming to help.”  

Blinding panic gripped him momentarily. He forced himself to take a deep breath, reminding himself not to get carried away. Yes, he was afraid, but the magnitude of what he was feeling was wildly out of proportion. He would find BD and they would get out of here. Wherever here was.  

“You’ll never find him.”  

“May as well give up now.”  

“Shut it,” he growled, forcing himself to his feet. He paused for a moment on one knee, waiting for the vertigo to abate before pushing himself up. Even then the ground shifted under his feet, making it hard to keep his balance. The echoes in the cell pulled at him, bleeding through the tattered remains of his mental defences.  

“Come see,” they beckoned. “Just reach out and take a look.” Cal didn’t need to. Misery permeated every surface, crying out into the Force. He could hear it all, though duller than if he fully experienced it. All those cries and pleas for mercy that never came. It was the last thing he needed. Echoes wreaking havoc on his already scrambled brain. His head pounded dully, rattling around his skull. He just wanted to go back to the Mantis and pretend none of this was happening.  

“But it is happening.”  

Right. Standing here feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to help. BD was missing and he had no idea where he was. The droid who had captured him didn’t look Imperial and neither did this cell. A bounty droid most likely, which meant he probably wasn’t even on Zeffo anymore.  

“No one knows we’re here.”  

“How are we going to reach the ship?”  

“Stop it!” he snapped. BD must be around here somewhere, and Cal would tear this place apart to find him. Maybe between them they could figure out some way to contact the Mantis . He had no idea a bounty had been put out for him, nor who might have done it. If it was Imperial then he’d probably be talking to Trilla right now. Someone had their eye on a Jedi, and he hadn’t exactly been subtle.  

“Gotta be a way out of here,” he grumbled under his breath, trying to stay on track. There wasn’t any obvious way to open it that he could see, but then that would make it an awful prison if there was. The rest of the cell offered little aside from piles of junk. The whole place looked like it was cobbled together using whatever was lying around. Sheets of rusted metal barely held on to bare rock, welded together with messy lines. He wandered around the perimeter, looking for any weaknesses in the walls while avoiding the scattered, bleeding echoes.  

In one corner he found what looked like a hatch of some kind, lying flush with the panel around it. He knocked on it, hearing a hollow thunk . It was rusted shut, the gaps around the edge too narrow for him to pry it open. He searched the piles of junk for something he could use as a lever but there was nothing thin enough that could be worked into the slight gap. He tried anyway, taking a long, straight bit of metal, hoping to warp it enough to make a difference. All he succeeded in doing was making the gap smaller.  

He threw aside the scrap and reevaluated. This was a door, therefore it had to move. The only things keeping it in place was the rust. He knew what he needed to do, but he didn’t like it. He took a couple steps back and reached for the Force.  

“We’re trapped in here.”  

“No point in fighting.”  

“You’ll never leave.”  

Doing his best to ignore the vitriol, he reached his hand out and pulled. The door rattled in place but did not otherwise move, the Force slipping through his grasp.  

“Weak. ”  

He fought the urge to lash out at the voice, refusing to allow frustration and fear to get the better of him. He was supposed to be a Jedi, in control of his emotions, not the other way around. He took a deep breath and held his hand out again, picturing the door coming free in his mind. He pulled again and with a grating shriek it came loose, tumbling to the dusty ground.  

A mass of blinking lights and tangled wires greeted him. An echo lay in wait, clinging to the small control panel nestled inside. He had no idea what he was looking at since it was an utter mess. The echo probably held the answer, and whether he wanted to or not, he’d have to touch it if he wanted to get out of here. “This is the last thing I need,” he grumbled under his breath.  

These bounty hunters weren’t as smart as they thought they were. How could they be so stupid to leave the door controls inside the cell. She flicked a couple of switches before pressing the override. Behind her, the door rattled as it opened. This was her chance.  

So, he wasn’t the first one to escape from here. Unlike the woman in the echo, he didn’t think the bounty hunters were stupid. This was exactly what they wanted. He may be about to walk into a trap, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to find BD.  

He copied what he’d seen in the echo, flicking the right switches before activating the override. He was hit with a wave of déjà vu as the door rattled, the line between himself and the woman blurring momentarily. His body remained still while in his mind he could see himself leaving the cell. He crossed the threshold before snapping back to his body, still crouching in the corner. “Augh, kriff,” he moaned, pressing his hands to his head as roiling nausea tangled his gut.  

“You can do this.”  

“Thanks,” he said before confusion hit a second later. It wasn’t often the voices were kind, especially not in times like this. The unexpectedness of it left him momentarily stunned before he pulled himself together. The longer he stayed there feeling sorry for himself, the longer it would take him to find BD-1.  

Rubbing his eyes to clear the remnants of the echo, he ventured out into a wide tunnel. There was very little panelling here, though the walls were lined with barred doors leading to smaller cells. Some contained creatures from across the galaxy. He recognised some from the places he’d visited, others from holovids and books. Most he’d never seen before in his life, but all of them looked dangerous and hungry.  

The echoes were stronger out here, calling to him, clouding his mind. As always, he tried to ignore them, heading further down the tunnel, but it was getting harder with every step. Some of the floor had given way, opening into an inky expanse. Cal didn’t want to find out how far down it went so carefully went across the narrow sheet of metal that served as a bridge, trusting it to hold. If the bounty hunters wanted him to escape, they presumably also wanted him alive for something. He hated to think what.  

“No, please. I can get you your credits!” he cried as he was dragged from his cell.  

“Too late for that,” the bounty hunter said with a harsh yank. He stumbled, losing his footing. He tasted sharp fear as he tumbled towards the edge, nearly falling head-first into the gaping chasm. It was only because of the bounty hunter’s iron grip that he didn’t, though he almost wished he did. He knew what fate awaited him.  

Cal stumbled into the wall, head pounding, body shaking. This place was so full of terror he could hardly move without stumbling into an echo. The chasm yawned up at him, a thrill of icy fear running down his spine. He tore his eyes away from it, stumbling the rest of the way to solid ground.  

There was something waiting for him at the end of all this; probably the same something that had awaited the people in the echoes. Their fear mingled with his own, a vague but terrible danger on the horizon. The echoes were too murky to pick out what exactly he was walking into, but it was nothing good.  

He had to find BD.  

He made his way through the twisted tunnels, eventually finding yet another pit. An alarm buzzed overhead for a painful couple of seconds, rattling his already abused brain. The ceiling opened, the chamber flooding with light. He had to shield his eyes against it, throwing up a hand. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out dark shapes falling into the pit.  

Bodies, he realised belatedly. They were the bodies of some of the creatures he’d seen along with a couple of humanoids.  

“You’re as good as dead.”  

“Not helpful.” They were right though. If t hat was what was waiting for him, he was going to be functionally useless. Maybe if he found BD he could find some way out of here that didn’t involve a fight to the death.  

He kept searching the cells, looking for any sign of his friend. He tried not to think of the possibility that BD wasn’t here, or that he’d been broken down and disassembled, discarded on one of the many piles of scrap parts. He had no idea how long he’d been out for. There was no way to know what might have happened in that time.  

“It gets lonely down here.”  

Panicking wasn’t going to do him any good, but it was hard to stay rational given his current circumstances. He couldn’t be a perfect Jedi all the time. At least not yet.  

Something shiny caught his eye, a glint of polished metal in the bright overhead lights. He came to an abrupt stop outside one of the cells. Peering inside, he could see it was filled with discarded droids. Parts were missing from most, the stench of old oil strongest here.  

None of that was important, as on the far side of the room, BD was sat upon a workbench. “BD!” he shouted, uncaring of the way his voice cracked with desperation.  

BD didn’t respond, only lifting his head ever so slightly. Taking a closer look, Cal spotted the restraining bolt fitted to the front of his body, immobilising him. The sight of it made his blood boil.  

“Those monsters! I’ll make them pay!”  

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll get you out of there!” he called, tamping down the surge of fury.  

With renewed purpose, Cal looked for a way to get the door open. There was a panel beside the door that looked like it needed some kind of key to activate and unlike his own cell there weren’t any override controls. It didn’t matter if it took Cal days to open this door, he wasn’t leaving BD here alone.  

“I’ll be right back. I promise,” he said when he realised he’d need to look elsewhere for a solution. BD of course remained silent and near motionless. It was just so wrong to see him like that. His friend was always so full of energy, eager to explore and cause chaos. He sat still less often than Cal which was an achievement in and off itself.  

A rope of wired ran up from the panel by the door to a ledge above his head. If he jumped high enough, he could probably climb up. Maybe the override was up there. He took a few steps back, mindful of the pit behind him and took a running leap, calling on the Force to give him a boost, willing to pay the price. The shouting in his head became impossibly louder, the echoes around him bleeding through. An incoherent mess of weakness and fear.  

He wasn’t sure if he blacked out or was simply so distracted that he lost awareness of his surroundings, but he suddenly found himself colliding with the ledge. His fingers barely found purchase, but it was enough for him to pull himself up. There was barely enough room for him to move so he very carefully sat on the edge while he figured out his next move.  

There was a vent built into the rock, the cover barely hanging on. Cal grabbed it and gave it a yank. No need to call on the Force this time. With a bit of effort, the rusted bolts holding it in place came loose. He tossed the cover into the pit and took a closer look at the vent.  

It was on the small side, but at the far end he could see light coming up through a grate. The only thing below was the inside of BD’s cell. If he could crawl inside, he could get to his friend, no ned for an override. With a bit of awkward manoeuvring, he managed to climb inside. His shoulders barely fit, but it wasn’t too dissimilar from some of the spaces he’d had to climb through while scrapping.  

He reached the grate, aching and exhausted from crawling his way along the tiny space bit by bit. He could see BD sitting on the workbench below, silent and still. There wasn’t enough room for him to open it the conventional way, so reluctantly he reached for the Force, giving it an almighty shove.  

“This wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so useless!”  

Blinding pain erupted in Cal’s head, the pressure in his skull spiking. He blinked several times to clear the black spots dancing in his vision, but a few stubbornly remained at the edges of his vision. He’d seriously overdone it, and he hadn’t even figured out how to get out of this place yet. Below, the grate lay on the floor, a small cloud of dust slowly dissipating.  

Cal had no choice but to wriggle his body the rest of the way through the gap, falling head-first. He just about managed to turn mid-air so his feet hit the ground first. He didn’t stick the landing, falling onto his side, kicking up more dust. “BD!” he croaked as he got back up, his head swimming. He caught himself on the workbench BD was sitting on, taking a couple of deep breaths when his vision blurred again. As soon as he could see straight, he wasted no time getting the restraining bolt off.  

As soon as it came free BD came to life, beeping at Cal frantically. “No, I’m not okay, but I sure am glad to see you again buddy.” BD told him not to worry, they would get out of here soon enough and then he could rest. “Are you okay?”  

BD assured him he was fine aside from a few scratches from rough handling. He’d been stunned when Cal was electrocuted which meant the bounty droid was able to put the restraining bolt on him. Aside from that, he’d only been moved from place to place. “Good. I’d still like to run a full diagnostic on you when we can. Who knows what kind of viruses or trackers they might’ve put on that bolt.”  

With a whistle of agreement, BD climbed up to his usual place on Cal’s back, his familiar weight a comfort. Unlike in his own cell, this one had a visible control panel by the door. He didn’t need to touch this one, BD using his scomp link to do it for him.  

“I don’t suppose you know how to get out of here?” as he walked out. BD told him there was a turbolift they had descended earlier but he wasn’t sure which way it was as the restraining bolt had messed with his mapping capabilities. “We’ll find it.”  

Together they wound their way through the tunnels, passing countless cells holding more dangerous animals, snarling and howling and thrashing against the bars keeping them from their next meal. The echoes here weren’t as strong, most not having been left by sentients. Animal echoes were never as taxing or intense, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still affect him. You don’t need to be intelligent to feel pain and fear.  

Cal’s head was killing him, the pressure in his skull at a point where he was genuinely starting to worry his head might explode. The dark shapes from earlier had taken up permanent residence in the corners of his vision. The more echoes he encountered the worse he felt, piling up and burying him in layers of misery. He had no defence against them, already torn down by Trilla’s revelation. He couldn’t even scrape anything together to ward the weaker ones off, leaving him entirely exposed.  

The crying, screaming, pleading in his head was constant to the point he could no longer distinguish any words, just a jumbled wall of noise. He could barely understand BD’s instructions as he tried to direct Cal to where he thought the turbo lift was. He was usually good at translating binary, but with the constant supply of gibberish he ended up with sentences that didn’t make any sense. Any meaning was lost between hearing the rhythmic beeps and turning it into something he could understand.  

After a series of wrong turns BD resorted to simply tapping Cal on either his left or right shoulder to indicate where he should turn. Using this system they finally arrived at the bottom of what looked like a turbolift shaft. The lift itself was nowhere to be seen so Cal went over to the controls to see if he could bring it down. “Kriff,” he swore under his breath. Of course there was another echo there.  

BD hopped down from his shoulder and landed on the controls, clumsily pushing the buttons with his foot. “Thanks buddy,” he said, the words falling short of conveying the immense gratitude he felt towards his friend.  

The turbolift descended and Cal and BD stepped on board, taking them out of the nightmarish tunnels. Cal hoped that escaping them would quieten the noise, but if anything it got louder, the voices shouting to be heard. There was a different quality to it here, almost physically reverberating in his chest along with the constant buzzing under his skin from the echoes.  

He groaned, curling in on himself, his hands pressed against his ears despite knowing it wouldn’t make any difference. He was distantly aware of BD beeping at him, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. “What was that?” he asked, lifting a hand.  

BD repeated, louder and slower, informing Cal that it sounded like there was some kind of crowd ahead. “Oh. Well, that explains the rumbling.” If BD asked a follow up question, he didn’t hear it. His attention went to forcing himself to stand up straight, stepping off the turbolift when it came to a stop.  

They’d been spat out in an antechamber, a single door leading out to the source of the physical noise. Cal doubted escape would be as easy as simply walking out of this place. There were echoes here too. Loud ones that demanded his attention.  

“Bad things have happened here.”  

“Yeah no shit,” he mumbled, pacing around the small space. By the door an echo pulled at him, pain and fear bleeding through the Force.  

“Go on! Take a look!”  

“You don’t know what you’re in for.”  

“Just reach out…”  

It was impossible to resist the pull, weak as he was.  

He did as he was told.  

“No! Please! I can’t go back out there!” he sobbed, clinging to the doorway, his fingernails scraping across rock. He couldn’t keep fighting. It had been days since he’d last slept and he was running on the fumes of the ration bar they gave him yesterday. He was on the verge of collapse.  

Something heavy smacked into his arm, knocking his hands loose. “Cut that out,” the mechanical voice of the bounty hunter snapped. “You either go out there and fight to live another day or I shoot you here and now. It makes no difference to me.”  

“Please,” he begged, throwing himself to the floor as the bounty hunter dragged him away to the cheering crowd.  

Cal bent over as he returned to reality, his stomach cramping painfully. He braced a hand on his knee, leaning heavily on the wall to keep himself upright. He retched, spitting bitter bile onto the floor. When it passed he took a few measured breaths, ignoring how much he was shaking. BD asked if he was alright once he mostly regained his composure.  

“It’s an arena,” he said, uselessly trying to blink away the spots in his vision. “I saw bodies being dumped earlier. This must be where they came from.”  

BD suggested they head back down to the tunnels until Cal was more able to fight. “No,” he said, shaking off some of the lethargy. “I’ll only get worse the longer we stay here. How many stims do you have?”  

BD replied that he currently had three. “Okay, good. I have a feeling I’m going to need them. You ready?” The worried beeping he got back told him that BD still thought this was a bad idea, but he was ready.  

“Okay. Here goes nothing.”  

Chapter Text

The sheer volume of the cheering that greeted Cal when he stepped out may as well have been a physical wall. It hit him hard, penetrating the noise crowding his head and reverberating in his chest. Stands rose high on all sides, packed with people calling for blood. The arena itself looked like a repurposed hangar. A wide gap split the wall in front of him, leading out to empty space, stars shining beyond the shields keeping the atmosphere in.  

Cautiously, Cal stepped out further, trying to stay as aware of potential danger as he could manage. Not that he could do much. He still hadn’t found his lightsaber and the Force was best kept at a distance. Echoes stained the ground, voices pulsing in the Force. They tore at his mind, creeping under his skin. Nausea churned in his gut, but he had nothing left to give up.  

A low hum came from behind. He snapped around to face it, only to see the door he’d stepped through lowering to the ground. He was trapped. With no other option, he walked out to the centre of the pit, careful of the echoes.  

Abruptly, a large projection of a man appeared above the arena, almost tall enough to reach the roof. The first thing Cal noticed about him was that his entire midsection had been replaced by cybernetics, exposed tubes and wires on show between the two halves of his organic body.  

“Finally— arrives!” the man announced, stretching out the words in dramatic fashion as he gestured down at Cal. He couldn’t fully parse what he was saying through the noise, only catching fragments fading in and out. “We had— long it would— get here.”  

“Who are you?” he demanded.  

“I’m Sorc Tormo, baby! —boss of—.” Cal saw more than heard him laugh, spreading his arms wide. The voices filled in the gap, crowding his head with several laughs layered over each other. Cal really wished this Sorc Tormo would cut out the dramatics. It was grating on his already frayed and fragile nerves. “—have Greezy four-arms to thank— bringing us together.”  

Greez? But, he wouldn’t.  

“He sold you out!”  

Would he?  

“Cere’s a liar!”  

“Why not Greez too?”  

“—special challenger for you tonight!” Tormo announced to the crowd, his booming voice pulling Cal back to the present, loud enough to be heard fully. “An enforcer from a bygone era. A Jedi!” He paused to allow the arena to erupt with more cheering.   

“They’re here for you.”  

“They want you dead.”  

“Let’s see what he’s got! Oh, and someone give baby his toy,” Tormo said before the hologram flickered out. A droid flew overhead and from a port in its underbelly dropped what he instantly recognised to be his lightsaber. He reached up for it, gently nudging it with the Force to guide it into his hand. Even that small act stabbed a thousand needles into his skull. He wavered, nearly losing his balance. As soon as he grasped the hilt, he curled in on himself, waiting for the pain to abate. Cal had the horrible feeling he might not make it out of here alive.  

He didn’t have much time to contemplate his impending mortality. To his right a large door opened to reveal his first opponent. The large slimy creature crawled out, teeth bared, gaze fixed on Cal. From his back BD let out an alarmed wail.  

The oggdo moved far faster than a creature of its size had any right to do, lunging right at him. Cal barely managed to get out of the way, activating his lightsaber to bring it down across its face.  

It hissed and writhed, rearing back before fixing its half-blind gaze on him. It opened its mouth again, this time its tongue shooting out to ensnare him. He pulled with the Force, ignoring the sharp pinpricks of white that assaulted his vision as he did so. Holding the tongue in place, he severed it with his blade.  

“You’re in deep shit now kid.”  

The oggdo hissed and spat, the stump of its tongue hanging limp from its mouth as it leapt at him. He was too slow to roll out of the way this time, the creature clipping him in the side with its claws, knocking him to the ground.  

An intense burning engulfed his arm, causing him to drop his improvised weapon. He fell to his knees, pulling his arm to his chest but not daring to touch it for fear of spreading the acid. Every nerve was on fire, burning through skin and muscle. Given enough time, it would surely eat through bone. He doubted he would live long enough to see it as the grotesque creatures began to swarm, climbing up his legs.  

Cal snapped back to the present, panting. Blindly, he kicked out at the swarming creatures. His boot met something far more solid. Looming over him was the oggdo, thick saliva dripping from its mouth. Fuelled by instinct he slashed at it with his lightsaber, aiming for its legs. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as he cut through its thick hide, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down.  

He scrambled backwards as it brought its claws down where he’d landed. Clumsily he got back to his feet, putting some distance between him and it. He kept an eye out for those horrible swarming things as he moved, his arm still burning from the acid.  

There was nothing. It was just him and the overgrown frog.  

The oggdo reared back, baring its teeth as it lined up. It launched through the air, rapidly closing the distance. Cal held his ground. As it bared down, he raised his lightsaber, sinking the blade through the roof of its mouth into its skull. It thrashed wildly, trying to dislodge his blade, but it was too late. He sheathed the blade and stepped to the side before it collapsed, its weight more than enough to crush him.  

“That was too close.”  

“You can say that again.”  

“Shut it guys,” he snapped.  

The crowd erupted with raucous cheers as he tried to centre himself, breathing hard. Pain lanced up his side, his arm still burning. He couldn’t tell how much of it belonged to him. There was no time to figure it out as the next door on the opposite side of the arena opened. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, assuming a defensive stance. A swarm of bog rats came crawling out, skittering across the floor.  

“Oh come on,” he sighed. Wasn’t taking down an oggdo enough for Tormo? Was he going to squeeze every last credit he could get out of Cal by making him fight until he collapsed?  

“You don’t matter.”  

“You’re just entertainment.”  

“An attraction.”  

“A freak.”  

“You’re not helping.” He didn’t need their distractions. There was too much at stake.  

The first bog rat was upon him in a matter of seconds, leaping at him with its claws bared. He dodged, the bog rat raking its claws across his leg instead of his side. The pain barely registered, his senses already overloaded with other stimuli that it hardly made a difference. The only real indication that it must be there was the hot blood soaking his trousers.  

He made quick work of separating the bog rat’s head from its body, guard already up to fend off the next attack. He took no pleasure in killing these creatures. They were likely starving, made to fight just as he was. Their instincts drove them, just as Cal’s did to keep him alive. It was kill or be killed.  

“Mindless slaughter.”  

They were easy enough to deal with when they came at him one by one, but things became difficult when they formed a pack. Surrounded, he found himself having to constantly shift his fractured attention between them. BD-1 beeped shrill warnings when he was slow to react, giving him enough time to keep himself from being mauled. This wasn’t the first time they’d hunted as pack. He took another slash to the leg, a bite to his left arm, all while he did his best to fend off their attacks.  

He barely skimmed the surface of the Force, fearing he’d fall victim to it. Stumbling into echoes was bad enough. He was utterly reliant on his lightsaber skills alone and those were still rusty from the years spent in hiding. It took everything he had just to stay on his feet.  

After an eternity the last bog rat fell. Cal was distantly aware that he was shaking, sweat sticking his clothes to his skin. He was sure his head was going to explode, his limbs leaden. Yet still there was no respite, the doors opening again to let loose a pair of massive wyyyschokk.  

“BD, stim,” he panted. BD ejected one into the air, the small green canister landing in his palm. He wasted no time in jamming it into his neck, the autoinjector dumping painkillers and adrenaline directly into his bloodstream.  

He gasped from the shock of it, giving him a temporary boost in energy and a sliver of clarity. He knew from experience it wouldn’t last long, but maybe it would be enough to carry him through this. Unlike the oggdo or the bog rats, the spider-like creatures didn’t immediately charge at him, instead climbing up the walls of the arena.  

He raised his lightsaber, ready for whatever attack came his way. One skittered its way towards him, the other climbing higher towards the crowd. Before it reached the barrier, the arena hummed with energy. Sparks flew from the walls, striking the wyyyschokk. Both fell to the ground in a heap, their horrible legs flailing as they fought to right themselves.  

Cal took the opportunity to attack the one nearest to him, cutting off three of its legs before it had a chance to stand. It let out a horrible, shrill screech, stumps twitching as it fought to stand. Cal put it out of its misery, narrowly avoiding being bitten as he plunged his lightsaber between its eyes.  

The crowd cheered as yet another life was claimed.  

“These people are sick.”  

Cal didn’t disagree, but there was no time to dwell on it. The other wyyyschokk was already upright, its many eyes watching Cal closely.  

He wasn’t foolish enough to go charging in. The adrenaline from the stim was already starting to wear off, pain newly intensifying. They stared each other down, waiting to see what their opponent would do.  

The wyyyschokk broke first, scuttling with frightening speed at Cal. He threw himself out of the way, blindly bringing his lightsaber down in an arc.  

“No no no no no, please!” she begged, scrambling back as fast as she could, not daring to take her eyes off the other fighter. She thought she’d won her freedom, surviving countless waves of creatures. This was the final challenge. A fellow prisoner, at least two heads taller than herself. He held a makeshift spear, her own weapon lying several meters away. She was defenceless. The only thing she could do was beg, but she already knew she was dead.  

Cal blinked a few times, trying to reorient himself as he found himself unexpectedly standing. That was swiftly corrected as the wyyyschokk barrelled into him, knocking him to the ground.   

His head smacked against the floor, bright stars blinding him. The wyyyschokk bore down on him, fangs extended. All he could do was keep it at arm’s length, physically holding the giant creature away from his neck. He kicked at it, trying to get it off him, but it just screeched and spat, dripping venom onto him. Panicking, he reached for the Force and pushed , sending the creature flying off him.  

Electrifying pain took over his entire being, wiping everything else away. He writhed on the floor, uselessly trying to escape his own body.  

Sound returned first, panicked and pained shouting, yelling, screaming flooding his mind. This was shortly followed by the bloodthirsty cheers from the crowd and the screeching of the infuriated spider. BD was there too, blaring at him as loudly as he could to get back up.  

Moving blindly, Cal pulled himself onto one knee, very nearly keeling over as he was hit by a wave of intense vertigo. His vision was still spotty, large patches remaining dark, making it difficult to see properly. He could just about make out the wyyyschokk across the arena where he’d flung it, already on its feet and charging towards him.  

Lifting his lightsaber took monumental effort, his arms trembling, the weapon impossibly heavy. He had one chance at ending this. Miss, and he wouldn’t get another. He couldn’t keep fighting. Once more pulling himself upright, he stood his ground.  

The wyyyschokk came closer and closer.  

Cal blinked hard, trying to clear more of his vision, planting his feet, waiting to strike. He allowed himself to skim the surface of the Force again, needing its guidance now more than ever. He held as steady as he could, watching the overgrown spider come closer and closer. It jumped; its dripping fangs poised to sink into his flesh.  

“Now!”  

The Force urged him to move.  

He ran at the wyyyschokk before dropping to his knees, sliding underneath it. He brought his lightsaber up in an arc overhead as it sailed past him. His blade connected, a slight resistance as he sliced through the creature’s underside.  

He felt more than heard its body hit the ground, the cheers of the crowd overwhelming even beyond the noise trapped in his skull. Everything was hazy and distant. He teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, exhaustion and pain doing their best to pull him under. He lacked the energy to get up but looked over his shoulder to make sure it really was dead. The body didn’t so much as twitch.  

“Stim,” he mumbled, hoping he was coherent enough for BD to understand him. Instead of firing one out from behind for him to catch, BD injected one into Cal’s neck himself. The additional shot of adrenaline was enough for him to force himself back to his feet, though the painkillers did nothing.  

His vision was slightly clearer now, the dark patches mostly keeping to the edges of his vision. The crowd too roared with clarity, like his head had been underwater and he’d just breached the surface. “—got lucky—,” Tormo’s voice boomed, sounding displeased. “—don’t worry, the best is yet to come!”  

“No. Please,” he whimpered, though no doubt only BD could hear him. He needed this to be over. Hadn’t he done enough? Did Sorc Tormo want him dead that badly?  

“—know our next challenger. The Haxion Brood is gunning for ya!” The crowd erupted once more as something large and heavy dropped into the arena. It took Cal a precious second to react, turning to see the bounty droid who had captured him back on Zeffo. He’d barely held up against it then. He didn’t stand a chance now.  

BD beeped at him, the shrill noise cutting through everything else. He couldn’t give up now, he had to keep fighting.  

“Do it for me. For your family.”  

“What family?” he asked. Cere had lied to him about Trilla. Greez had, one way or another, gotten him mixed up in this mess. He was alone with nothing to return to. BD beeped again, urging him to activate his lightsaber.  

He still had BD. He could do this. For him.  

The bounty droid raised its arm at him. Cal knew what came next. His lightsaber hummed to life in his hand, coming up to block the blaster fire. There was no finesse to it, no attempt at reflecting the bolts back. It took too much energy. Cal just needed to stay alive, and right now that meant lasting as long as he could until he figured out a way out of here.  

The droid stayed on the far side of the arena, slowly advancing. Cal knew it could charge quickly if it wanted too, but if he kept enough distance between them, he was fairly confident he could at least dodge out of the way before putting some distance between them again.  

For a while that was all that happened. The droid fired off several shots, Cal blocked them. The droid charged, Cal ducked and ran before the droid could close the distance. He had to be careful not to back himself into a corner, but for the most part the strategy worked. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever though, not when he was already so utterly exhausted. Getting up was becoming harder and harder, running near impossible.  

“You see a way out yet?” he called to BD, only to receive a loud negative. As he’d seen with the wsyyyschokk, the walls were electrified so climbing out wasn’t an option. All the doors were sealed shut with no visible scomps to override.  

Cal felt himself being swallowed by a black pit of despair. There was no way out of here. He couldn’t defeat the bounty droid, and it would never tire of chasing him. There was no way out. He was going to die here, and it would mean absolutely nothing. BD would be stripped for parts, the rest of him discarded in one of the many piles of junked droids he’d seen down in the tunnels. That hurt more than the thought of his own demise. At least he’d already made peace with death back on Bracca, though his mission had given him a brief spark of hope.  

The whole arena shook unexpectedly, sending Cal to the ground. The crowd’s cheers turned to screams as they too were thrown about. Cal kept his attention fixed on the droid still stalking towards him, unaffected by the tremor.  

BD whistled, drawing his attention up to where he could see the stars through a narrow gap. Cal couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Is that real?” he asked BD, who confirmed it was. The Mantis descended through the arena, crushing the walkways to land.  

The only thing standing between him and freedom now was the bounty droid, firing pot shots, closing the distance. Cal tried to edge around it, but it knew what he was doing, blocking his path to freedom. He stopped backing away, letting it get closer. He no longer had the energy to dodge, relying entirely on what little strength remained in his muscles to hold up his lightsaber just to deflect the bolts. It was faster than him, despite its bulk. There was no way he was getting past it on his own.  

“You know what to do.”  

With one final, desperate call out to the Force, Cal flung his arms out and with a cry, willed the droid to slow. Agonising pain burst in the back of his skull, like something vital snapping.  

A chorus of voices erupted.  

Deafening.  

Roaring.  

“The sunsets here are— have you been to— saw her yesterday. She— seen this mess! How am I— hurts, don’t it. You’ll get used to it.”  

The world shrank down to that wall of noise and pain as countless memories flooded his mind. Reality shattered around him, fragmenting into a million pieces. He dropped to the ground, curling in on himself, desperate for escape. He clawed at his ears, trying to block it out but to no avail.  

Something pinched his shoulder hard, causing him to lift his head. He might not know what was happening, but he knew the ship in front of him. Time was running out.  

“Hold on to something! It’s— nearly there— Take my hand, quickly!”  

He stumbled to his feet, past the bounty droid frozen mid stride. The loading ramp was already down. He just had to climb it.  

“Kriff, this wasn’t— deal gone bad. Nothing we could— It’s alright. You're— pay for what you’ve done.”  

Before he’d even made it through the door, the ship was already lifting off the ground. His hold over the droid snapped, causing him to stumble over the threshold. He had no strength left to catch himself, collapsing on the floor.  

He’d made it, but who exactly he was sharing this ship with remained to be seen.  

Chapter Text

Hands on his back. The touch unwelcome. He wanted them gone. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? “Ge’ off,” he slurred, exhaustion and pain and noise making it hard to even think, let alone form coherent words.

“—bleeding.” The sharpness of their concern briefly pierced through the confusion, only for it to be swallowed by the storm of emotions whirling through his head in the next instant. It wasn’t important. Someone was still touching him.

“Get off!” he repeated, summoning the energy to be heard. The hands recoiled. He curled in on himself, his hands clamped over his ears, trying to block out the noise. It made no difference. It was too loud, no way to silence it.

“—should be here soon— not looking good. She's— There you are! We’ve been—”

“Cal!”

A brief flicker of familiarity before that too fizzled out. There was something important he was forgetting. He tried to reach for it, but it slipped through his fingers, impossible to grasp.

“—should get out of here before— go! Quickly! Don’t wait for—“

Yes. He should get away before anyone tried to touch him again.

“You need to move.”

Grey walls, chains around his wrists. A slit of light the only sign it was day beyond his cell.

The sun warmed the ground. The sky clear blue, dotted with the occasional cloud. Fields of golden wheat stretched out ahead. There was much work to be done.

Crawling through cold mud. Blaster fire zipping overhead. Screams, so many screams.

A multitude of lives, all warring for his attention. Overlapping. Clashing. Pulling him apart.

They all felt so real.

“You’ve lost sight of yourself.”

A hand returned, the pressure light on his shoulder, bringing him back to his body. He was curled up on the floor. Cool, smooth metal under him. He flinched and the hand went away, no longer grabbing. He forced his eyes open, releasing his hands from his ears. It was still too loud.

“See that? Just over there— blue like you never seen— can’t wait until we get away— so many stars, just pick one.”

Past the dark shapes blurring his vision, he could make out his surroundings. Metal walls boxed him in, blue light pouring in through the viewports. It seemed familiar, but did he know it, or was it someone else’s comfort?

He pushed himself up on shaking arms, every fibre of his being protesting the movement. There was someone hovering over him. He knew her.

Or someone in his head did.

“Watch out for that one— be able to fix it, just you— help me! Please!”

Her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear her. His head hurt so much; he was sure it was going to crack open any second. Even the simple act of sitting up left him trembling and exhausted. He wanted to get somewhere safe, away from all the light and noise. It was too much.

He struggled to his feet, the woman moving with him, still talking but going unheard. She held her hands out to him, as though she was ready to catch him should he fall. She didn’t touch him though, keeping enough distance between them.

There was somewhere safe at the back of the ship. The details were fuzzy, but he was fairly sure that was right. A place by the engine that was... someone’s.

“—can hide down here— don’t trust them, not for a— make it stop!”

He stumbled up two short steps, the small droid friend following at his heel. He couldn’t remember his name, but he was glad he was here. The woman also followed, but no one could agree whether she could be trusted. Some were relieved to see her, others screamed and raged. He was in no state to put up a fight so let her follow.

He had to lean heavily on the walls to get there, but he eventually made it to the room he was looking for. He went inside but the droid remained at the door, stopping the woman from following him in. If he was saying something to her, he had no idea what it was. She looked between the droid and him, fear and worry plain as day on her face, but she did not argue.

He closed the door and promptly slid down the wall until he was sitting, head in his hands. The droid scuttled off. The lights dimmed, alleviating some of the stabbing pain in his head. “Thanks buddy,” he said, the words coming automatically. His voice sounded so distant, like his head was underwater.

“—so dark in here. Anyone got— woah! You can’t light that! You’ll— like it here. It’s calm. Not like—”

He tried to sift through the noise, searching for familiar threads. If he could hold on to his own memories then maybe he could stitch himself back together and figure out why he was in so much pain.

Blood. Pain. Fear. A crowd crying out for the killing blow. So much death. All for a few extra credits to line their pockets.

He’d been fighting, hadn’t he? He’d escaped thanks to the woman and... This was her ship, but she wasn’t the pilot. He must be around somewhere too.

“Liars!” the voices erupted; thousands of knives driving straight through his brain.

“Don’t trust them!”

“They’re just using you!”

He couldn’t help but cry out against the assault, reverberating in his skull. He clutched his head, a sob escaping unbidden, curling in on himself further as though that might protect him somehow.

He couldn’t remember why he shouldn’t trust them, but a lingering sense of betrayal clung to their shadows. They’d just rescued him, hadn’t they? Why would they do that if they meant him harm?

Hadn’t they already risked everything to rescue him once before?

“Please, just leave me alone,” he begged. He’d never been so out of control. It hadn’t even been this bad in the escape pod when—

“NO!”

His vision went black, consumed by boiling pain. He retched from the intensity of it, muscles spasming, adding to his pain. He was distantly aware he’d fallen on his side, curled in on himself impossibly small.

It took him far too long to collect himself again, the small shards of his life that he’d managed to pick up scattered once more.

He was lost.

He would never be whole again.

He couldn’t breathe. A crushing weight on his chest preventing him from getting enough air in his lungs.

Was this what dying felt like?

A large fuzzy shape settled at his side, a hand resting on his shoulder. He barely registered it “You’re going to be okay,” the woman said. She sounded like she was underwater. Or maybe it was him, drowning far below the surface. “Try to relax and breathe with me. Like this.”

She gently pried his cold, stiff hand from where he’d crushed it against his chest, pressing it to her own so he could feel her take a slow, exaggerated breath in. She held it a moment, then just as slowly let it out.

“We’ve been here before.”

He tried to copy her but found it impossible with the weight on his chest. She kept talking, but he had no idea what she was saying, the words lost in the noise, her voice little more than a buried hum against his fingers. He just focused on what she was doing, trying so hard to slow his breathing to match hers.

It didn’t matter what the voices were saying about her right now; he needed help, and she was the only one who could give it. Ever so slowly his breathing slowed, and the weight began to lift. His head was still a mess, but he wasn’t quite so alone.

“Can you sit up?” she said, raising her voice to be heard. This might not be the first time she’d tried to get his attention.

Though his limbs were stiff and sore, he managed to ease himself upright with a bit of help. His head swam but whether that was from the noise or the change in position was difficult to tell. He screwed his eyes closed and wiped away the tears on his tattered sleeve, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head there.

Everything hurt so much. There was no escape from it.

“Do you think you can meditate with me?” she asked after a moment, letting him get used to being upright.

No, that was a bad idea. He’d lose control— blow up the ship!— kill them all. The idea of it alone was enough for panic to grip him once more, but the woman just squeezed his hand. “It’s alright. Not a full meditation. Just... skimming the surface. To help clear you mind.”

She seemed so eager, imploring him to give it a go. He had no other ideas, and he so desperately needed the noise to stop. He nodded, willing to try. Trusting her, despite everyone telling him not to.

She shifted, sitting cross legged in front of him. She tried to encourage him to do the same, or at lease uncurl a little. He made half an attempt, stretching one leg out in front of him, the other folded underneath. He scrubbed his sleeve over his face again, tears refusing to slow.

Once he was as settled as he was going to get she began talking him through it. “Close your eyes. Keep your breathing steady,” she began, leading by example. He hesitated before he too closed his eyes and tried not to let panic overwhelm him. He focused on that one small thing, breathing in and out in a steady, slow rhythm.

“Do you think you can reach out to the Force at all?” she asked.

“No,” he said quickly. Memories of it snapping, lashing out, stabbing, burning flooded his mind. “It hurts.”

“Alright. Let’s start with the basics. Do you remember you name?”

He tried to think, but thousands flooded his mind.

Iska. Herik. Osti. Kara. Trin.

Familiar, but none of them were quite right.

None of them felt like belonging.

What had she called him earlier? Something about that one resonated pleasantly in his head.

“Cal,” he said, struggling not to make it sound like a question.

“Good. Do you know where we are?”

That was a much harder question. A ship. Somewhere in the depths of his mind he knew it, but its name eluded him. He reached out for an answer…

And got hundreds back.

“N-no.”

“That’s alright,” she said calmly. “We’re on the Mantis.”

Now that he had the name, that too resonated in his mind, though it was tainted somehow. As well as a sense of belonging, betrayal clung to it like oil. It was a strange combination, but he couldn’t remember enough to question it.

“Do you remember my name?”

Yes, she was...

No. No he didn’t. He knew her, he did. Or was that just because she seemed to know him? She must do if she knew his name and was willing to help him. She’d rescued him from...

Well, before. Yes, he knew her, but her name...

“No, I’m s-sorry. I don’t—”

“It’s alright Cal. I’m Cere.”

Cere.

“No, don’t trust her!”

“Liars! You're all liars!”

It all came crashing back. Zeffo. The tomb. The Second Sister. Trilla.

Cere lied to him. Told him her Padawan had died when really she was the one chasing them across the galaxy, hunting him down like an animal. He gasped, choking on the overwhelming emotions flooding his mind as his memories snapped back into place.

“Cal?” Cere asked as he broke from the meditation, shrinking into himself once more.

“You lied,” he said, his voice rough and strained.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Trilla.”

Cere withdrew the hand that had been reaching for him, visibly stricken. “Cal... I...”

“You said she was dead.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d find out.” He’d never seen her so helpless, not even when he’d told her about his past. “Just let me help you. Please. You’re hurt.”

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, drawing his knees closer to his chest.

“Okay. I won’t,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “Look, I brought the medkit. Please use it. BD, keep an eye on him. I’ll... I’ll go.” She all but fled the room, the door sliding shut behind her.

Cal’s head was a terrible mess, but at least now he could hear himself think. And remember who he was.

BD nuzzled into Cal’s leg, buzzing worriedly. Cal didn’t have any more energy for words but rested his hand on BD’s head, taking comfort in his company.

BD chirped, leaving Cal’s side to stand by the medkit. Cere had left it within reach, but Cal couldn’t quite summon the will to move. Maybe that was the blood loss talking. Either way, he found it hard to care. He just wanted to sleep.

He tipped his head back, letting his eyes fall closed, tears running down his neck. Getting to his bed was far too much effort. Besides, he’d only get blood everywhere. He could just sleep here. BD buzzed again, nudging Cal’s leg. He couldn’t sleep yet. Not until his wounds had been seen to. “I’ll be fine,” he mumbled.

BD threatened to get Cere again. As much as he disliked everything she’d put Cal through with her deceit, bringing her back in was still better than Cal bleeding out right next to the medkit. Cal knew this wasn’t an idle threat either and he really didn’t want to see Cere again right now. “Fine,” he grumbled tiredly. “You win.”

He pulled the medkit closer, opening it up to reveal its contents. He still couldn’t see straight, almost half of his vision obscured by the dark blobs which had taken up residence there. BD helped him out, pulling various bits out for him and reading the tiny labels. Cal wasn’t sure where he should start. He was hurting all over, but he was vaguely aware of the places he was actively bleeding. That should probably take priority.

His left arm was looking pretty bad, the sleeve torn to the point where it was practically hanging off and completely soaked in blood. He didn’t bother trying to get his shirt off. He was aching far too much for that. Instead, he took a handful of the fabric and gave it a sharp tug, tearing it off. It didn’t come away in one, so he had to give it a second go. Once it was gone, he used it to wipe up most of the blood, smearing it across his torn skin before dropping it on the floor.

It looked like his arm had been thoroughly chewed and he wasn’t entirely sure that it hadn’t been. The fight in the arena was all a blur now, a mixture of his own injuries and several others’ at war in his mind. He’d have to figure it out later; right now, it was too messy.

He turned his attention back to his arm.

He should clean it.

He didn’t have the energy.

He grabbed the nearest bacta patch, peeled off the backing with shaky fingers and clumsily stuck it over the wounds. It didn’t lie smooth against his skin, crinkling and sticking to itself. He would sort it out properly later, cleaning it like he should. For now, the bacta would do a good enough job. He just needed it to stop bleeding long enough for him to sleep.

He treated his other injuries in a similar manner, slapping a bacta patch over everything half-blind until he was no longer getting blood on everything. Or at least he wasn’t actively bleeding on everything. He hadn’t really cleaned any of the old blood away, just smeared it about a bit. Now his hands were covered in it, drying tacky between his fingers.

He looked up at his bed longingly. He would sleep much more comfortably up there, but he didn’t want to ruin his blankets. The floor would do for now he decided. He haphazardly shoved everything in the medkit and kicked it away before curling up on the floor.

BD asked him what he was doing, wondering why Cal was lying down. “’m tired.”

BD could understand that, but why was he going to sleep on the floor? “Blood. Gets on things.” So why didn’t he get in the shower since that was how organics tended to clean themselves? “Tired. Just, leave it.”

They both knew BD couldn’t make Cal do anything, as much as he might want to sometimes, and Cal didn’t think he would go as far as to bring either Cere or Greez in to deal with him over this. At least he hoped he wouldn’t. Cal had no energy left to fight them off should they decide a shower was necessary.

“Where’s my headphones?” he asked, the voices still chattering away, though less insistently than before. BD skittered around the small room before hopping up on the bed. His headphones fell with a clatter a few seconds later as BD pushed them off the edge. Cal winced from the unexpected loud noise and tried not to think of the potential damage done by dropping them. BD jumped back down and scooted the headphones closer until Cal could reach them.

“Thanks buddy,” he said as he put them on. He wasn’t familiar with the songs on the music chip he’d left in it earlier, having only just got it working. He didn’t really care right now. He just needed to drown out the noise. He rested his head on his arm and closed his eyes, doing his best to ignore the trembling in his body from the pain, residual adrenaline and the cold of the metal floor.

Chapter Text

“Cal? Cal! Kriff kid, wake up!”

Sound filtered through the haze, needing a few seconds to clarify into words. He was so tired. Maybe if he ignored it, they would go away. More words, followed by shaking.

“Sounds urgent.”

Reluctantly Cal opened his eyes but failed to focus on anything, barely awake. “Hh-wah?” he grumbled, not entirely sure if this was a of dream or not. Everything felt distant enough, like he wasn’t fully present.

“Oh, thank the stars,” Greez said as Cal clumsily tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. His muscles ached; his arm leaden. “I was worried you’d bled out or something.”

“Why?”

“Why!” Greez screeched, sending a spike of pain through Cal’s skull. “Have you seen yourself!” he continued, bringing the volume down a little when Cal winced. “You’re lying on the floor covered in blood. What else was I supposed to think?”

With no small amount of effort, Cal finally managed to blink his eyes open enough to see more than blurry shapes. Right, yeah… the blood he hadn’t been bothered to clean up. “Covered up the worst of it,” he mumbled tiredly, already lying his head back down and ignoring his aching body’s pleas to at least change position. Moving was too much effort, and he was so tired.

“Oh no you don’t,” Greez said, taking Cal’s arm in two of his own. “Come on, up you get.”

“Don’t wanna.”

Cal let himself become dead weight. It was only when BD told him he really should get up and started nudging him too that Cal relented and allowed Greez to sit him upright. The room tilted alarmingly, Greez the only thing keeping him from sliding back down. “Woah, you alright? You’ve gone even paler than usual.”

“Dizzy,” he said, clinging on to Greez for some stability. Even the voices faded out momentarily, becoming a droning static.

“Alright. Just sit tight until it passes.”

Cal just hummed and closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall and breathing carefully. He had no idea if he was so disoriented because he’d overexerted his connection to the Force or he’d hit his head. Or maybe both. He should probably ask Greez to check…

“Hey, you want these?” Greez asked. Cal cracked his eyes open to see Greez holding his headphones, tinny music still blaring.

“Not right now,” he said. While the voices were still very much present, they’d mostly faded into a sort of background haze, too weak to be of much consequence. Besides, the loud music wouldn’t help the pounding in his head. Greez switched the music off and tossed the headphones on his bed.

“Feeling any better?”

“A little.”

“Think you can stand?” That sounded exhausting, let alone actually going anywhere. “Come on, it’s only to the fresher,” Greez added when Cal hesitated. “I’ll get you cleaned up, then you can actually go to bed.”

Now that was a tempting offer. He felt like one massive bruise, and sleeping on the floor was doing him no favours. He gave an affirmative hum and began trying to get his legs under him. Without further prompting, Greez took hold of Cal’s arms and did most of the work getting him standing.

It was no easy task due to the fact that Cal towered over Greez, but eventually Cal was on his feet. He swayed in place, his vision tunnelling. He leant most of his weight on Greez’s shoulder to keep his balance, afraid that if he let go he’d go crashing to the floor. If it hurt, the Latero didn’t mention it. “Hey, you’re not about to pass out are you?” he asked, two hands on Cal’s back, another on his front.

Cal couldn’t reply, too focused on not falling over. Greez didn’t press for an answer, letting Cal find some kind of equilibrium at his own pace. His vision was slow to clear but he didn’t fall so he counted it as a win. “I’m good,” he said when most of the black receded.

“You sure?” Greez asked.

“Eh, good enough.”

He hummed, agreeing with both.

“If you say so,” Greez muttered under his breath. Slowly he lead Cal out of the engine room and to the fresher. Cal trusted Greez to make sure he didn’t fall or walk directly into a wall so let his eyes fall closed against the bright overhead lights.

“Sit your ass down there,” Greez said, turning him around in the small space to sit on the toilet lid. What Cal did could probably be more accurately described as “collapsed” rather than “sat”, but he didn’t end up on the floor.

“Small victories.”

“Hey, no droids in the fresher,” Greez said, turning to BD who was buzzing at him from the doorway. “No, I don’t care. There’s not much space in here and you’ll only get in the way.”

That only renewed BD’s arguing, so Cal took it upon himself to break them up. “BD, it’s fine. Greez is right.” BD let out a mournful whistle but finally stopped causing a fuss. He stood guard by the door, resolutely keeping watch.

Greez mumbled to himself as he bustled around, looking through the cupboards. Cal’s brain was too fried to even attempt making any sense of it, and he doubted it was important. He let his eyes fall closed against the lights stabbing through his skull, exhaustion threatening to pull him under once more.

“You still in there?” Greez said, jolting him awake once more.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Good. That’s good. Just checking. Let me see your face.”

Only mildly confused by the request, Cal lifted his head from where he’d slumped forward so Greez could see him better. With a warm, damp cloth Cal hadn’t realised he’d been holding he began gently wiping away the grime and blood from his temple.

The cloth was soft against his skin, Greez using the bare minimum amount of pressure to get the now dry and crusty blood off. “’s nice,” he said, closing his eyes as his head was tilted back, forcing him to look up into the overhead lights.

“It’s the least I can do after what I’ve put you through,” he said sadly.

“With the…” he started trying to remember what they’d called themselves.

“Haxion brood?” Greez filled in. “Yeah. I’ll never be able to apologise enough. It’s entirely my fault they went after you. I thought I was handling it. I’m… I’m sorry Cal.”

“What’d you do?” he asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t have the energy to spare to get angry and honestly it was pretty low down on his list of concerns right now. He still wanted to know why a bounty had been placed on him in connection with Greez though.

“I owe the Brood a lot of money,” he said sheepishly. “Look, I-I didn’t say anything before because I thought I was handling it. Cere already helped pay off most of my debt, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy Sorc apparently.”

“You didn’t sell me out then.”

“No! Of course not. I… well I guess I have given you a reason to doubt me, but I would never do anything like that. You and Cere are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Despite the hell he’d just been through, he was inclined to believe Greez meant it. Yes he’d hidden his debts from him, and apparently Cere, but Cal didn’t think he’d intended any harm to come from it. “’s alright,” he mumbled. “Not your fault.”

“I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind when you’re a little more with it.”

“Doubt it.”

Greez gave a non-committal hum and kept on cleaning Cal up, occasionally rinsing the cloth. Once he was done with Cal’s face, he moved on to his left arm, the one that he was pretty sure had been chewed by a bog rat at some point. “Cal, you are aware that bacta patches work best when they’re actually covering the injury, right?” he sighed, his lower hands going to his hips.

“I did…”

Even as he started, he looked down at his arm, having to put effort into getting his eyes focused. All things considered, he thought he’d done a fairly decent job, but he couldn’t deny it was shoddy work. The patches he’d managed to put on were just about covering something, but some had stuck to themselves or come loose already. None of them had gone on straight, lying at wonky angles over partially covered wounds. Then there were the ones he’d seemingly missed entirely, stuck next to open wounds instead of over them.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll sort you out. Just tell me if it hurts,” he said softly. “Wait, you’ve already taken a painkiller, right?”

Cal honestly couldn’t remember. He’d taken a couple of stims back in the arena, but they had worn off a long time ago. Had he taken anything from the medkit? Though he was aware of the pain in his body, it felt detached, like it belonged to someone else. Like an echo.

“Are you even hurt?”

“Yeah ‘cause I can see I am,” he said, going to poke at a bloody tear in his skin.

“Hey,” Greez interrupted, gently taking his hand and guiding it back to his lap. “Don’t do that kid. Painkillers, did you take any?”

“No sure.” BD piped up, confirming Cal had in fact not taken anything since boarding the Mantis.

“Kriff kid,” Greez said, glancing between him and BD. “Fine, I’ll find you something. Stay there.”

Cal didn’t think he was capable of moving even if he wanted to. His body was so unbearably heavy. The moment he tried to stand he’d either pass out, or vertigo would hit him hard enough he wouldn’t even realise he was falling until he’d already hit the deck.

“You could just sleep here.”

“Greez said I could go to bed after.”

“What, do you need his permission or something?”

“I don’t wanna sleep in the fresher. ‘s cold.”

“You’re cold?” Greez asked as he returned. “I can get you a blanket.”

“’m okay,” he said, prying his eyes open. Greez was carrying the medkit, setting it down on the counter. He took out a handful of the remaining bacta patches and set them aside so he could rummage through the rest of the kit. “I think this is human safe…” he muttered under his breath. “Can you have this?” he asked, holding what Cal assumed was an orange hypospray. “These things never come with warnings.”

Cal took it from him, but his eyes wouldn’t focus enoguh to make out any of the words. “I can’t see it,” he said.

“What do you mean you can’t see it?”

“It’s all… blurry,” he elaborated with a vague wave of his hand as he gave it back. “The words are too small.”

“Did you hit your head?” Greez asked, a whole new layer of concern added on top of everything else. He put one hand on the side of Cal’s head, his eyes searching for any sign that something was seriously wrong.

“Maybe,” Cal shrugged. “Might just be echoes.”

“Yeah, it looked like they got to you bad earlier,” he said mournfully. “Was that because of the arena?”

Cal shook his head and immediately wished he hadn’t. He must have gone pale again as Greez moved his hand from his face to his shoulder to keep him steady. “No, I was messed up before thanks to the Second Sister.”

“What did she do?”

“It was what she said.”

“About Cere?”

Cal recoiled from him, not really able to get very far since he was already leaning against the wall. Greez let go anyway. “You knew?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “She told me after she came running out the engine room. Not straight away since she was pretty upset, but… I think we’re all on the same page now.”

Cal searched his face for any hint that he might be lying. Finding none, he asked, “Is she around?”

“She’s in her room. She didn’t think you’d want to see her right now,” he said.

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sighed, heavy and tired. “Alright. I’ll finish checking your head. But first… BD, can he have this?” He held out the hypospray for him to scan. BD informed him that it was toxic to humans before inviting himself in. He jumped up on the counter and scanned the contents of the medkit. The blue one was human safe, he said before stepping back, though he pointedly did not leave.

Greez didn’t chase him out, muttering a quiet thanks as  he picked up the blue hypospray. “Give me your arm,” he said, pulling off the cap. Cal did as he was asked and held out his right. Greez steadied it with a hand and pressed the hypospray into his bicep, activating the autoinjector. Cal barely noticed the sting, too buried under everything else.

“You still doing okay? Not gonna pass out any time soon?”

“’m fine. Tired.”

“We can get that fixed soon enough. The meds should get to work soon. In the meantime, let me see your head.”

Again, Cal did as he was told and sat forward a little. Greez began gently poking around the back of his skull, checking for any obvious lumps or cuts. Much to Cal’s relief the pain didn’t get significantly worse wherever he prodded. Just a few bruises, as expected. After a minute, Greez seemed satisfied his skull was in fact in one piece and let him go.

“I think you’re clear. BD, do you know if he hit his head?” BD couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t, but if he had it wasn’t obvious. “That’ll have to do I guess,” he muttered. “You tell me if you start feeling worse. No hiding it because you think it’ll get better on its own, you hear?”

Cal only gave a tired hum of agreement. Apparently that was enough for Greez as he turned his attention back to Cal’s more obvious injuries. “Let’s get this shirt off, huh? Or what’s left of it,” Greez said, giving the tattered remains of his shirt a questioning look. “What happened to your sleeve?”

“Tore it off.”

“Right, well… I’ll help you get the rest of it off I guess. Can you lift your arms?” Cal did his best, getting them about half way before his muscles locked up. Greez lifted the hem of his shirt up for him but stopped when Cal let out a sudden cry, curling in on himself. “What’s wrong?” Greez said, immediately letting go.

“My side,” Cal groaned, the words strained from the unexpected stab of pain. Greez gently coaxed him to uncurl, letting him see. The lower right side of his shirt was newly damp, a ragged tear stained dark red. Cal hadn’t noticed the injury, or at least hadn’t consciously registered its existence. Everything hurt about the same until Greez had unwittingly tugged on it. Now it was sharp, like he was being cut open anew.

Greez frowned at the tear, gently poking and pulling at where Cal’s blood had dried to the fabric before coming to some kind of conclusion. He wetted the cloth he’d been using and dabbed it around the tear, trying to loosen it from his skin. Cal tried his best not to flinch at the light touch, swallowing the pain as well as he was able.

After several minutes, Greez determined he’d done what he could and tried to pull Cal’s shirt again. It was painstakingly slow but with a bit of coaxing it came away with minimal discomfort, much to Cal’s relief.

Once it was no longer stuck, Greez asked Cal to raise his arms again. He did his best, but with the pain reawakened in his side it was even harder than before. Still, Greez made quick work of getting the shirt over Cal’s head, tossing it in a corner.

“Oh Cal…” he said. Cal looked down at himself, not having had the opportunity to do so yet. His entire torso was an ugly mottle of dark reds and purples. And there, on his right side, a large gash starting just under his ribs and ending above his hip. It didn’t look too deep, but it would surely leave another scar to add to the collection.

Greez took up the damp cloth once more and began carefully wiping away the blood, sweat and dirt from his skin. He peeled away the poorly placed bacta patches and assessed each injury. For the bites and cuts, once he’d cleaned and disinfected them with the steriliser, he stuck a fresh patch over them, making sure all edges were covered and the film lay smooth against Cal’s skin.

It didn’t take long for the painkiller to kick in. It was the good stuff too. The pain faded away, but so did any sense that he still had a body. He was incredibly disconnected from reality but couldn’t quite bring himself to worry. If he’d felt distant before, now he was completely untethered, floating somewhere outside his body. He wasn’t scared this time. He knew he was in good hands between Greez and BD-1.

At some point his eyes fell closed while Greez continued to tend to his wounds. He had no idea how much time passed, Greez’s hands on him the only remaining connection to the real world, but eventually he was being nudged back to awareness.

“Hey. You still with me?” Greez asked gently.

“Mhmm,” Cal managed, barely able to pry his eyes open.

“There’s a lot of blood on your trousers. Do you think you could stand up to get them off?”

“No,” Cal whined, letting his eyes close again.

“Well you’re going to have to stand up eventually. I’m not gonna let you sleep on the toilet all night and I can’t exactly carry you.”

“’m fine.”

“Cal,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. That finally got him to open his eyes, not that he could see a great deal still. “Come on. Up. You’re not sleeping in those.”

He held out all four hands for Cal to take. After a moment of hesitation Cal accepted his help, letting Greez pull him up. He had to let go with one hand once he was standing, bracing himself on the wall lest he fall over and flatten Greez.

His vision went grey, his ears filling with hissing static instead of voices. Greez was saying something to him, rubbing his back, but the words were muffled and all of Cal’s concentration was going into not passing out. It took a minute, but gradually sound returned and the grey receded. “’m okay,” he mumbled when he trusted himself to speak.

“I’m going to let go of you now. Tell me if you’re going to collapse, alright? I’ll make this quick.”

Cal could only hum, bracing both hands on the wall now. True to his word, Greez made quick work of getting Cal’s trousers off. Cal couldn’t find it in himself to feel any embarrassment. In all honestly it was a relief, to not have the dirty and bloodstained fabric clinging to his skin.

Greez guided him to step out of his trousers one leg at a time before kicking them into the corner to join his shirt. There were several shallow cuts on his thigh, thankfully no longer bleeding but in need of the same attention the rest of him had received.

“Come on, I don’t think we can get you standing a third time,” Greez said, taking Cal’s arms again. “We can finish up in your room.”

It took until they were stepping out of the door for Greez words to fully register. “My room?” he muttered.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Greez said, distracted by trying to keep Cal from colliding with the wall. “Where’d you think we’d go?”

“It’s… my room?”

“Kid, of course it’s your room. All the crew get their own rooms,” he said, mildly exasperated.

“Oh,” he said, suddenly a little choked up. He’d hoped of course that he had a place here, but it had been so hard to accept that it might really be the case. Then between everything that happened on Zeffo and with the Brood, he wasn’t sure where he stood with the others. But it was his room, and apparently always had been according to Greez.

He was part of the crew. This was his home.

Greez sat him down on the edge of his bed, hands hovering for a moment before fully letting go to make sure Cal wasn’t about to topple over. “Woah, what’s wrong?” he asked upon seeing a stray tear run down Cal’s face.

“Nothin’” he sniffed, making an attempt at wiping it away.

“Okay,” Greez said, sounding uncertain. “You just sit tight. I need to get the medkit. BD, watch him.”

Now that he was allowed to get close to Cal again, BD wasted no time hopping up on the bed. Not for the first time the little droid was hesitant to get too close for fear of accidentally hurting him. Cal patted his head, brushing against the echoes he carried. “It’s my room,” he murmured, almost conspiratorially.

BD warbled at him just as quietly, wondering who’s room he thought it was. BD didn’t get it, but that was fine. His needs were vastly different, and while he was fiercely loyal to the people he cared about, he didn’t long for a sense of belonging in the way Cal did.

Greez looked mildly relieved to see Cal still sat in the same place when he returned. He hadn’t brought in the whole medkit this time, only carrying a clean cloth along with a handful of bacta patches and the antiseptic spray. “Last bit, then you can sleep.”

Cal managed to keep his eyes open this time, watching with detached fascination as Greez worked. The sight of his own blood had never bothered him. If it had once, he was too young to remember it. He’d seen far too many dead bodies, both with his own eyes and in echoes, to be bothered by a bit of blood. Bleeding meant he was still alive.

“There, all done,” Greez said after sticking the last bacta patch in place.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You need help lying down?”

Cal gave the slightest shake of his head, already lowering himself down. He couldn’t quite get his legs up, but wordlessly Greez helped him out. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up. You just rest now.”

Cal was pretty sure Greez said something to BD after that, but he was already losing the battle with consciousness, his eyes closing as soon as his head hit the pillow. The last thing he was aware of was a blanket being tucked in around him.

Chapter Text

Despite his injuries and the bone deep exhaustion that had been dogging him all day, Cal couldn’t rest. He’d taken a painkiller not long after waking up on Greez’s insistence, but they didn’t have anything on board strong enough to do more than dull the sharp edges. He was left with a bone deep aching throughout his body which sharpened whenever he moved slightly wrong.

The pain wasn’t his biggest problem though. The dam had broken, his defences torn to shreds after overexerting his renewed connection to the Force, tenuous as it was. Which was why he ended up on the sofa, knees pulled to his chest and hands over his headphones, pressing them to his ears.

“It’s really not that complicated. You just need to— just like that. See! You’re already doing better than— ever have to see that scumbag again I swear I’m going to—”

No matter what he tried, he couldn’t drown out the inescapable noise. It had been steadily getting worse as the day wore on, the voices rising in volume while becoming less coherent. It had gotten to the point a couple of hours ago that he’d completely ignored Greez when he’d been idly talking about the plants in his terrarium. Cal had believed he was just another echo, his words chopped up and jumbled in with everyone else. He’d only realised his words were real when Greez turned to him and asked him something. Since his question was rendered nonsensical, Cal had no idea what the expected answer should be.

“Did you sell all the cans to him? I told you we needed some of those for— believe that woman? Honestly, you’d think she wanted me dead— don’t question where I got them from. Just give me the credits and we can forget—”

Cal hadn’t known what to do. In a panic he fled to his room without a word and sat on his bed, squishing himself into the corner. He couldn’t even explain himself. Speaking had become difficult, the noise overwriting his thoughts, making him forget what he was trying to say before he could finish his sentence.

“Is there anything I can— come here darling. I’ve got something to show you— certainly your colour but it’s kinda ugly, don’t you think?”

Inevitably, restless energy got the better of him. Hiding away for the next several days wasn’t going to help, nor did it sound particularly appealing. When he returned to the common area he tried to apologise to Greez but could only manage a word or two at a time. Greez had graciously waved him off in his typical laid-back fashion, but Cal could tell he wasn’t as relaxed as he tried to appear. He kept glancing over at Cal when he thought he wasn’t looking, moving between the galley and the cockpit far too often.

“I’ve been asking you to do something about the damp in the basement for months— be done soon and then I can head over and get— ever find out why he knocked down the— Cal? Can you hear me kid?— not a fair trial. How’s he supposed to—”

It was relentless and somehow still getting worse. Or maybe he was succumbing to it. There was nothing he could do to alleviate it in any way. So, here he was, huddled in the corner of the sofa like a child, praying with every fibre of his being that it would end soon.

“Is that really all you can tell me? That’s— I’m going to talk with Skara. Maybe they’ll have—can’t be done with it as easy as that.”

A tap on his knee brought him away from the crowd and back to the lounge. Greez was standing in front of him, his lower pair of hands idly fidgeting. Reluctantly, he took his headphones off. He needed as much help as he could get if he wanted to be able to follow whatever Greez wanted to say to him. It wasn’t like they were helping much right now anyway.

“Hey,” he said when he could tell Cal was paying attention. The rest of it was lost, too quiet to be heard.

“Can’t hear you,” he said, possibly too loud himself.

Greez raised his voice accordingly. “I said… well, I don’t know if it would help, but—”

“— come over tomorrow if that storm—”

“—wanted a distraction? I was—”

“—even get that from? Gher won’t have any—”

“—play a few rounds of sabacc. Not for real money of course.”

Cal stared at him for a couple of seconds while he picked out the right string of words, processing what Greez was offering. He nodded, scooting around so they could comfortably sit across from each other. Greez sat and began shuffling the deck he’d apparently been holding. “Do you know how to play?” Another pause, followed by a nod. “You pick that up on Bracca?”

Cal shook his head this time. “Before?” he asked hesitantly, dealing out the cards and setting the rest of the deck down. He took a pouch from his pocket, counting a handful of coloured chips out before sliding them over to Cal and counting out his own pile.

“Nosey little bugger, ain’t he?”

“I don’t mind,” Cal said carefully, picking up his cards.

“Dank Ferrik, again?” he said, tossing his cards onto the table. He’d thought he had a winning hand there.

“It’s just not your day,” his opponent said, raking in the pool of credits.

“Cal?”

His head pulsed with a dull ache. “M’fine,” he mumbled, massaging his temple.

“Echo?”

Cal nodded. It hadn’t been strong, but perhaps if it was he would have noticed it before connecting to it. A little warning would’ve been nice.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve thought of that. We don’t have to play if you’ve changed your mind.”

Cal put his cards down and reached for the rest of the deck, hovering his hand over it. There was another echo somewhere, no stronger than the first but easier to identify now he was searching for it. He picked the cards up and shuffled through them, making sure he touched each one before he was pulled into the echo.

One by one the other players at the table revealed their hands. His heart pounded in his chest with excitement. He already knew he’d won, the idiot’s array staring up at him. The pot was his and he could get out of here. He couldn’t help the smug grin on his face as he showed his cards.

Cal looked up and felt like he was having an out of body experience as the echo faded. His mind struggled to reconcile the memory he’d just experienced with the fact that the origin of said memory was sitting across from him, looking more than a little concerned.

“You alright there?” Greez asked when Cal just blinked dumbly at him.

“Check the calibration for me would you? Should say— without it I don’t know what we’re gonna do. Could try— listened. Now look at the state of it!”

“Deck’s fine,” he said quickly, setting it back down in the middle of the table.

“You didn’t see anything… unsavoury, did you? I’ve had those cards a long time.”

Cal shook his head, picking his cards back up. His hand wasn’t great, but he could work with it. He glanced up at Greez from the corner of his eye. He hadn’t picked his own cards up yet, watching Cal carefully. He looked like he wanted to ask something else but decided against it with a sigh.

“Don’t worry too much about it— it’s always something with you.”

It was Cal’s turn first. He had to concentrate to comprehend the numbers he was looking at, trying to think of the best strategy. He discarded a negative card and drew another, hoping for a positive. He got his wish but massively overshot the total.

“Trade it next time.”

He rolled his eyes. Obviously he was going to trade it.

Greez also traded a card. His face gave nothing away, his body language relaxed. That was no surprise; he must have a lot of practice. You didn’t get into trouble with a crime syndicate for gambling unless you were at least half decent at it.

“I couldn’t find the randomiser, but I’ve got some dice,” he said apologetically. “Usual rules, we shift on doubles.” Cal gave a nod and Greez rolled. The sides matched so they both discarded their cards and drew from the deck. Maybe Cal would have better luck this time.

“I saw you winning,” he said slowly, trying to make sure the words came out coherent.

“Ha! Really? You’d think he’d learnt— stupid kriffing ship with its stupid kriffing engine problems— ”

“Oh yeah?” Greez said, looking up from his cards, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Cal tossed a chip into the pot just to keep things interesting, not confident he had a good hand yet. “You had an idiot’s array.”

“Ha! You know, I’ve only had that hand a few times,” he said, matching his bet.

“Just you wait and see! I’m gonna show— time to quit? Come on, we’ve been here for— round ‘em up. If I see anyone escape I’ll— here for the view. Folks come from all over— oops, didn’t see you there. Need a hand?”

It was getting too loud again. Cal had to put his cards down to bury his head in his hands, massaging his temples as he mumbled a half coherent apology. He took a couple of measured breaths, trying to keep himself grounded in the present and not lost in the past. When the volume ebbed, he lifted his head to find Greez watching him closely.

“Let’s keep going,” he said before Greez made a comment. Or maybe he already had, and Cal just hadn’t heard him. Greez nodded, though he didn’t look convinced.

“No need to look so worried. It’s not the first time we’ve— promise. It’s clear skies from here.”

They continued to play in silence. Or at least Greez did. Cal’s focus was entirely directed at the cards in his hand, pretending he didn’t have an arena’s worth of people crammed into his skull. If Greez said anything, he simply couldn’t tell. Cal ended up winning the first round, more through sheer luck than skill. It wasn’t until they were half way though the next round that Greez tried speaking to him.

“What’s it like?”

It took Cal a moment to formulate a response, not sure what he meant. “What’s what like?” He pretended to look at his cards, already knowing he wasn’t going to make any changes to his hand.

“The echoes. It’s strange, watching you when you… find one. Your eyes go all distant, like you’re not here.”

“—going away for a while. I’ll be back soon. —stay. Right here. With us.”

“I’m not,” he said, lowering his cards. “Sort of. It depends on how… intense the memory is. Sometimes it’s like my own memories, playing in the back of my mind. I can—”

“No, this way you idiot. Get out of the way! —glad I could help. If you don’t mind I—”

What… He was trying to say something. What was it? “Uh…”

“So, echoes play in the back of your mind?” Greez said, picking up the slack.

“Right. The weak ones do. They’re not that bad,” he shrugged.

“And the strong ones?”

Cal sighed. “They tend to take over a bit more. They’re the ones you notice. I sort of… stop being me for a few seconds. I don’t see what’s around me, only what the person who left the echo saw. So, with the deck, I saw the cards you had, the room you were in and the people you were playing against.”

“And you’ve got to deal with that every time you touch something?” he said, swapping another card.

“Most things don’t actually have echoes. They’re created through strong emotions.”

Another roll of the dice and no change. Cal decided to call on his turn. There weren’t a great deal of chips in the pot, but he was confident he’d win. Greez stayed so Cal revealed his hand. “Twenty-two,” he said, keeping his tone carefully neutral, despite the smirk pulling at his lips.

“Dank ferrik,” he said, throwing down his cards. Cal took the chips before gathering the cards to shuffle them, dealing for the next round. His new hand wasn’t great. But who knows, he might get lucky. Maybe Greez had a worse hand. He put a chip into play and waited for Greez to take his turn. He traded and then it was Cal’s turn, swapping out the positive card, taking a risk and hoping for another negative. It backfired spectacularly.

“What happened between you and Cere?”

“I realise you’re upset, but there’s only so much— cut that out. It’s a great way to lose a—  got it? Yeah make sure it’s secure. It’s a long fall.”

No shift on the dice so he tossed another chip into the pool, waiting for Greez to go again. “Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“You and Cere, what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He traded his card, slowly getting back to where he wanted to be. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Well I think it does,” he said, raising the bet. “We’re all in this together aren’t we?”

Cal gave him a guilty look. There wasn’t any room for conflict when there was only three of them. Despite what Cere had done, they still had a mission to finish.

“I think it’s getting better, but only time will tell.”

Cal raised the bet, partly out of spite. When he didn’t respond, Greez sighed, matching the bet. “Cere’s been holed up in her room all day because of what happened. She didn’t want to upset you by being around I guess.”

Cal remained silent.

“She feels really guilty about the whole thing you know.”

“I get it,” he said sullenly, giving Greez a hard stare. He hadn’t been joking when he said he didn’t want to talk about it. Greez called and there wasn’t anything Cal wanted to do so they showed their cards.

“You’re good at this kid,” he said as Cal took the chips again.

“Had a lot of practice.”

“You said the clones taught you?” he asked as he dealt the next hand.

“I was apprenticed a few months after the war broke out,” he said. He picked up a card, unsure which way this might play out. It seemed he was in luck as it was exactly what he needed to get negative twenty-three.

“Luck is on your side today.”

“Looks like it,” he muttered. “We, uh, had a lot of free time back then. Or they did at least. I was busy with training, but Master Tapal didn’t go too hard on me to begin with.”

“To begin with?” he asked, swapping a card.

“You’re a liability. If I let you go out there— for your own good. One day you’ll understand.”

He’d already said more than he’d meant to. He didn’t like thinking too long about his past. It wasn’t entirely awful. He’d loved Master Tapal and the clones but hadn’t allowed himself to ever grieve them properly. Now was not the time to pick at the scab and fall apart, but perhaps he could allow himself to remember them.

“Master Tapal was strict with his training. For the first few months he eased me into it. Initiates aren’t usually made Padawans until they’re twelve or thirteen, but the Council had… concerns about me.”

“How come? I can’t see you being a bad kid.”

He rolled the dice and much to his disappointment the symbols matched so their cards were discarded. Greez seemed equally displeased, his careful mask slipping just this once. They took their new cards and placed their bets.

“Because of my psychometry,” he said taking a card. “They were afraid of it. I was warned several times it could lead to the dark side, and I had no way of controlling it. I was one of the first Padawans assigned once the war started. I guess they were eager to get me out of the Temple and make me someone else’s problem.”

“Couldn’t anyone help? Someone with the same ability?”

Cal shook his head. “There was only one other, Master Vos. But he didn’t experience it as intensely as me and he was… impulsive. Unsuitable to be my master.”

“Kriff kid, that’s rough.”

Cal shrugged. On his next turn he swapped a card, only to end up with a grand total of zero.

“Less than ideal.”

He glanced over his shoulder reflexively, ready tell whoever was giving the running commentary to knock it out. Of course, there was no one there. Greez paid him no mind, trading a card and rolling the dice. Cal already knew he wasn’t going to win this round so when Greez raised the bet he folded.

“What was it like growing up on a warship?” he asked as he gathered in the chips.

“It was fun at first,” he said honestly. He had fond memories of those first few months on board the Albedo Brave. “It felt like an adventure. I’d always been told to be careful at the Temple, but I was allowed to explore there. I knew how to be careful about interacting with echoes by then, and it wasn’t like I was running into them all the time since it was a new ship and not an ancient temple.” He dealt out the cards, placing a chip on the table.

“You weren’t worried about the war?”

“It took a while for the fact that we were at war to really sink in,” he said. “I was kept away from the worst of it for as long as Master Tapal could manage. I ended up practically begging him to let me go on my first mission only to end up having a full blown seizure.”

“I think the less I know about that, the better,” Greez said grimly, raising the bet.

Cal matched him. “I don’t remember much of it. This was before the echoes started sticking.” Greez drew another card.

“Either he’s really good, or he’s bricking it.”

Cal traded in a card again, only to bring his total crashing down. He resisted the urge to react, though he doubted he was good enough to bluff his way through this one entirely unnoticed. Greez raised the bet once again and despite Cal’s truly terrible hand, he matched him. He was certain Greez was bluffing just as much as he was. There was no way he had a good hand with four cards.

“Was there anything your master could do to help you?” Greez asked.

“He tried, but I think I was too young. I was still forming my connection to the Force through meditation.” He traded a card, praying to the sabacc gods for a decent card. “A lot of the things he wanted me to do were more advanced than I could manage so I just ended up frustrated.” His prayers went unanswered, his total falling even further.

“Wow. That is unlucky.”

Cal couldn’t help but sigh. He wasn’t winning this round. He folded again once Greez raised the bet, revealing his cards. “Oh, that’s bad luck kid.”

“I started with thirty,” he said dejectedly, paying into the sabacc pot.

“Still want to keep playing?”

There weren’t any real credits on the line, which was just as well since Cal didn’t have any, so it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. “Yeah. The distraction’s helping,” he said with a timid smile. For the first time in several hours, he could actually hold a coherent thought, even if he was still being regularly interrupted. “Can we talk about something else though?”

“Sure. Got anything in mind?”

“You could tell me about your plants again. I wasn’t really listening earlier.”

“No hard feelings. I was just worried I’d upset you somehow when you ran out the room.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologise kid,” he said, dealing out a new round of cards.

Two days had passed since Cal escaped the arena. The voices had settled down to a level of irritating but largely ignorable background noise. Cal was just relieved he could stay in charge of his own thoughts, though they remained abnormally disruptive.

His body still ached but his injuries were healing well thanks to the bacta. Exhaustion and a little help from the painkillers won over the persistent pain, allowing him to sleep. But even that was fitful, the voices chasing him into his nightmares. Echoes melting into the arena. Trilla’s eyes burning through him.

He could only sleep for so long. And being awake meant boredom. After pinging around the Mantis aimlessly for an hour, he’d finally settled on a solution. Which was how he found himself standing in the lounge, lightsaber in hand. He didn’t ignite the blade, knowing Greez would have a fit if he accidentally scorched the interior. Slowly and methodically, he went through the basic moves of Shii-cho. They were familiar enough that he didn’t have to think about it, letting muscle memory guide him. It was the closest to meditation he could get without fear of losing control. He didn’t have to use the Force for this, but he allowed himself to skirt along the edges of it, skimming the surface like he did when he was fighting.

The connection wasn’t as painful as it had been recently. After everything that had happened between Zeffo and Ordo Eris it became a raw, open wound. Now it was scabbed over, still healing but nowhere near as intense. He hoped that that too would fully heal sooner rather than later.

He took a step forward, holding the hilt in both hands and thrusting it out slowly. The point here wasn’t speed and power but focus and control. He timed his breathing with the move, letting it out over several seconds.

The next move involved bringing the hilt down in an overhead strike. A twinge in his chest caused him to gasp as he reached up. Despite the discomfort, he completed the move and held it before moving on to the next. He shifted his stance, hissing as he put weight on his still healing leg.

“Cal,” Greez said flatly from behind. “You sure you should be doing that?”

“Probably not,” he said, focus remaining the exercise.

“So why are you doing it?”

“I’ve got to do something,” he said with a slight shrug.

“You ever heard of taking it easy? No, wait, don’t answer that.”

Greez fell silent so Cal continued with what he was doing, swinging the hilt around in what was supposed to be a steady arc. His shoulder ached something fierce, his left arm burning where the bite marks were still healing.

“Surely there’s something you could be doing other than this?” Greez said, apparently still watching.

With a sigh Cal gave up, dropping his hands and turning to face Greez. “Like what?” he asked.

“What do you normally do when we’re travelling?”

“I don’t know. Think about scrapping the Mantis?”

He only said it because he knew it would get a reaction from Greez, but in truth he hadn’t done it in weeks. As hoped, Greez sputtered indignantly. “Besides that?” he asked. “You must be doing something when you’re locked away back there,” he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder to the rear of the ship.

Cal shrugged. “Depends. If it needs doing I might clean my lightsaber or make sure BD isn’t damaged,” he said, gesturing to the droid who up until now had been quietly perched on the holotable.

“Go do that then,” Greez said, waving a hand at him.

BD beeped. Cal looked at him, then back to Greez. “You got any paint?”

“Paint? What do you need paint for?” Greez narrowed his eyes at him. “You two aren’t plotting to vandalise my ship, are you?”

“Dunno, maybe. Depends how long we’re stuck in here,” he said with a mischievous smile. BD trilled enthusiastically. The Mantis would look much cooler if it was bright red. Greez didn’t seem to find it funny. “I’m kidding. I just wanted to re-paint BD. He got scratched up back on Ordo Eris.”

“Oh,” he said, instantly relaxing. “Yeah okay. I might have some lying around in storage. But I expect you to get your ass back there and sit down. It’s exhausting just looking at ya’.”

“Deal,” he said, holding out his arm for BD to climb onto his shoulder. Greez disappeared to the lower deck while Cal went to his room to clear some of the junk that had accumulated on the workbench. He’d gotten into the habit of picking up loose odds and ends on Bracca, just in case it came in useful. It was not a habit he’d been able to break.

A series of bangs came from below as Greez sorted through the multitude of crates he kept below for storage. He claimed there was some kind of order to it, but to Cal it was a disorganised mess. To his credit, Greez always seemed to know where to look. “Ah-ha!” A minute later Greez came back up the ladder, carrying three tins. “Not sure what colours they are but it’s all yours. Try not to make a mess.”

“Thanks Greez,” he said, taking the tins from him.

“Ah, don’t mention it. And I better not see you for the next few hours, alright.”

“Got it,” he said with a two fingered salute. Greez left the room, the door sliding shut behind him. BD hopped up on the workbench, beeping excitedly at Cal to open the tins of paint. He started with the heaviest, revealing a nearly full tin of dark grey. BD scanned it while Cal opened the second. This one was a light blue, reminiscent of Bogano’s clear sky. The third was nearly empty, which was probably for the best since it contained a shade that Cal could only describe as “aggressively pink”.

“Wonder what Greez used this for,” he said as BD scanned it. With an excited whistle he announced he wanted Cal to use this one. Cal was usually all for letting BD do what he wanted, but he wasn’t so sure about this. “I don’t know, buddy. I feel like I’d be painting a literal target on my back.” BD drooped, lowering his antennas and looking up at Cal with his best imitation of a kicked loth-cat. “Okay, fine, maybe just a little,” he conceded. BD perked up instantly, doing an excited spin. “How about the blue for your stripes?”

With BD’s approval, Cal got to work preparing his chassis then carefully applying the paint. He tried to preserve his existing stripes in the new colours, adding small bits of the pink on areas that wouldn’t be as visible. He’d been in need of a new coat since they picked him up, having suffered the elements for the best part of a decade without anyone to give him basic maintenance. How he wasn’t just a pile of rust, Cal would never know, but he was glad he was here.

It didn’t take long for Cal to get lost in the methodical movements of it. It wasn’t too dissimilar to what he’d been trying to achieve by practicing the forms, except this was much easier on his still healing body. He knew what he was doing, confident in what the outcome would be. His hands were busy which left his mind free to drift. A moving meditation as his master had called it.

He made the conscious effort to reach out to the Force as he worked. It washed over him, a calming presence to his otherwise tumultuous thoughts. The voices too ceased their overlapping chatter, instead becoming something more cohesive. It was still loud, but it eased some of the tension he’d been carrying. It was almost like they were singing in the Force, a slightly discordant choir. It was the most peace he’d had in a very long time.

He was nearly done when he sensed a new presence, the voices hitting a discordant note. “Danger,” they whispered, pulling Cal out of his semi-meditative state. He looked over his shoulder as the door opened and Cere stepped inside.

“We need to talk,” she said, standing perfectly still on the threshold.

“What’s there to talk about,” he said, turning back to BD who was now looking between the two of them. Cal didn’t want to have this conversation. Not yet. The hurt was still too fresh.

“I need to explain myself.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “You lied to me about the Second Sister, and you lied about why you cut yourself off from the Force.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest with you.”

“I trusted you,” he said, setting down his brush to glare at her. “I believed you when you said your Padawan was dead.” He felt stupid for it in hindsight. He’d thought they were learning to trust one another. He’d been vulnerable about Master Tapal and in turn she’d done nothing but deceived him. And worse, he’d told her his deepest fear believing she was safe, and now he had no idea if she would betray that too.

“You knew who she was all along. From the moment you saw her on Bracca. Didn’t I deserve to know who was trying to kill me? Who murdered Prauf?”

“You did. And now you know.”

“That doesn’t fix anything Cere.”

“Make her understand.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you anymore. How do I know you’re not lying about anything else?”

“What do you believe,” she asked, becoming defensive. “Do you doubt our mission?”

“How dare you.”

“Don’t make this about me,” he said, having to try very hard not to lose his temper.

“She’s not worth your time.”

“Teach her a lesson.”

“You gonna let her talk to you like that?”

It took all his self-control not to give in to their demands. He needed her gone before he did something he would regret. “You need to go.”

“Cal—”

“No,” he snapped, turning his back on her for the final time. “Just… just leave me alone.”

She hesitated a moment longer, but he refused to engage. She left eventually; the door sliding shut. He let out a heavy sigh, ignoring the way his hands were trembling. BD whined at him, unable to nudge him with his head due to the drying paint.

“That could’ve gone better.”

“You can say that again,” he said dryly. The voices continued to chatter loudly, the earlier peace all but eradicated. With another sigh, he reached for his headphones.

Chapter Text

Tensions remained high on the Mantis, and everyone was sick of it. Cere no longer hid in her cabin, but she wasn’t exactly going out of her way to try to talk to Cal again. Small mercies. Every time they ended up in the same room the voices would kick off. A storm of negative emotions and painful reminders. He couldn’t even sit at the table long enough to eat dinner though all the shouting, having to take his plate back to the workbench.

Cere might be avoiding him, but Greez hadn’t stopped pestering him to talk. Cal had tried to explain why he couldn’t right now. That doing so would only end in an argument. He didn’t trust himself not to spew the vitriol trapped in his mind. They didn’t need that out in the open. The worst part was that he wasn’t sure he didn’t mean it.

Trapped on the ship, Cal didn’t dare trying to meditate to release those emotions. Not fully. As unsteady as he felt with recent events, he was sure he’d damage  the engines or blow a hole in the hull when things inevitably got out of hand. The only outlet left to him was trying to let the Force flow through him, dulling the sting for as long as he could hold it.

The problem with that was he’d only managed it a handful of times. It was inconsistent and required a physical distraction. His body needed to be busy while his mind was free to wander, like when he’d painted BD. There were only so many times he could go through the lightsaber forms or sort through his accumulated junk, however.

He wanted to keep practicing. After years of relentless noise, he’d finally stumbled across a way to temper it for a few blissful moments. But it was tenuous and fickle, his concentration breaking at the slightest distraction. It was no good. He needed to get better.

After exhausting all other options available to him, he decided to make it Greez’s problem. He found the Latero on the sofa, datapad in hand. “What you looking at?” he asked, leaning over the kitchen table to peer down at him.

“Nothing interesting, just ship records and flight paths. Did you need something?”

“Kinda. Is there anything you need doing around the ship?”

“There’s always something. Why?” he asked, looking up.

“I need something to do, and I don’t really care what it is,” he shrugged.

“Alright. If you’re up to it, the kitchen needs cleaning. And I don’t just mean wiping down surfaces. The dishes have piled up and the cooker needs scrubbing.”

Cal glanced around the kitchen. To his eyes it didn’t look too bad since Greez made a point of cleaning as he went. But if Greez said it needed doing then who was he to argue. “Consider it done.”

Greez told him where to find the cleaning supplies and he got to it. He started with the pile of dishes by the sink. As he scrubbed, he reached for the Force, letting it flow through him. His hold on it remained light, a barely there thread, just strong enough to tether him to it but not enough for him to get lost in it. The only other time he’d really done anything like this was when he was fighting. Without adrenaline pumping through his veins or the single-minded focus on survival, he could turn his attention inward and think about what he was really doing.

The voices settled, the Force acting like a heavy sheet with which he smothered the noise. It was still there, never leaving him. But like this he could almost pretend it wasn’t.

He’d been cleaning for almost an hour undisturbed. Greez had gone back to his cabin a while ago, leaving just Cal and BD. He was wiping down the counters when he heard footsteps approaching. The voices rebelled against the calm he’d achieved, surging in volume. He already knew who was coming.

“Here we go.”

Cal made a point not to look in her direction as Cere appeared in the corner of his eye. He fought to keep control over the quiet he’d scraped together, tamping down the voices into something more easily contained. It was a battle soon lost.

“I don’t even want to look at her after what she did!”

“Traitors are all the same.”

She came closer, and for a horrible moment Cal thought she might try to talk to him again. She didn’t, walking past to get to pour herself a drink from the conservator.

“I need to get out of here.”

“Talking won’t solve anything anyway.”

“It might,” he muttered through grit teeth, scrubbing the counter like he was trying to remove baked-on grease and not a few crumbs.

She didn’t linger, leaving as quickly as she had arrived. Frustrated, Cal threw the cloth in the sink, splashing soapy bubbles everywhere. Why couldn’t he have this one thing? All he wanted was a little peace. Was that too much to ask? Did he not deserve it?

A curious warble accompanied a nudge to his arm. “I’m fine BD,” he said, convincing neither of them. With a heavy sigh he leant against the counted, massaging his temples. “I want it to stop.”

Talking to her about it might help, he suggested. “I know that. But I can’t. Not with everyone screaming at me.” With a sigh, he retrieved the cloth from the sink, wrung it out, and began wiping up the mess he’d made. He still had to mop the floor, but without the calming presence of the Force, the chore had lost its appeal. He tried to scrape together the fractured remnants of peace, but it wasn’t working. The voices were too riled up, churning in their anger and suspicion.

“It’s not her fault,” he mumbled. BD asked what he meant. “That I can’t talk to her. If I was normal I’d just ask why she lied to me about Trilla. But every time I see her the screaming starts. All these bad emotions come to the surface, and I don’t—” He cut himself off, biting his tongue while he waited for the flash of anger to pass. “I don’t know if it’s me or them. Being around her makes me angry, but I don’t want to be. And I don’t want to take it out on her and make things worse.”

BD gave a sympathetic whine. There was no easy solution to be found. His relationship with Cere would remain strained unless they came to some kind of understanding, but that won’t happen unless Cal can get a grip. And he couldn’t do that unless he could get the voices to calm down, which was near impossible when he was stuck sharing a small space with the origin of his turmoil. It was a vicious cycle.

The following day Greez unexpectedly brought them out of hyperspace above a quiet little forest moon. It didn’t have a name, just the designation PV-332. “What are we doing here?” he asked as he came into the cockpit. Through the viewport below he saw the moon engulfed in grey clouds, patches of green peering through the gaps.

“We’re taking a break,” he said, initiating the sub-light engines. “I’ve had enough of you and Cere tiptoeing around each other. Nothing’s getting solved like this and I’m out of options.”

With a stab of guilt, Cal sat as Greez brought them through the atmosphere. Nothing showed up on the scanners, but it was good to check. Just in case. It was hard to see much through the viewport, the clouds lying low, shrouding the land. Despite the conditions, Greez found a meadow large and flat enough to land.

“You’ve got one job to do while we’re here,” he said as he powered down the engines. “Get off my ship.”

Cal didn’t need telling twice, stopping to grab his poncho on the way out. The air outside was cool and damp, carrying the earthy scent of the forest surrounding them. Dark clouds gathered overhead, heavy with the promise of rain. “Ready BD?”

With an enthusiastic chirp, BD hopped up to his shoulder. Cal picked a direction at random and started walking into the misty trees, trusting BD would lead them back. Greez was right, he needed to get away from the Mantis for a while. A change of scenery would do everyone some good.

He hiked for what felt like hours, making his way up a gentle slope. It had started drizzling a while ago, but Cal didn’t hate it. It wasn’t like the rain on Bracca, heavy and polluted. No, this was refreshing, washing away all the pent up anxiety and frustration.

Not for the first time, he wished he could hear the rain. Properly, not just what filtered past the noise. He wanted to hear the raindrops hitting the ground, the rustle of leaves  when the wind picked up, the burble of the stream he found, rushing over smoothed rocks. He knew those sounds existed; they were just too quiet for him to pick up.

It had almost been better on Bracca. There was nothing to miss. The constant chatter blended seamlessly with the sounds of the scrapyard. He hadn’t known what he was missing, but here he felt that absence keenly.

As he trudged on the rain started easing up. Cal wasn’t fooled. The clouds were far too dark for this to be the end of it. Still, he took the opportunity to take a break, finding a decent sized log to sit on. He raked his fingers through his damp hair, unsticking it from his face as he took a drink from his canteen. BD entertained himself by dashing around, scanning everything in sight.

Cal enjoyed the peace while it lasted. Out here there was nothing to upset the voices. No echoes lingering in the underbrush, and no reminders of the past week. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and opened himself to the Force. It was getting easier to do, his connection gradually strengthening. Back in the arena he had felt that tether snap, but it wasn’t irreparable. Every time he’d reached for it since, it had been there waiting for him, raw but present.

Sinking into the Force, he expanded his awareness to encompass the forest around him. The trees, the shrubs, the insects, the birds. He could feel everything around him, thrumming with light.

His breathing even, he sank deeper, steadily letting his consciousness stretch out but still keeping himself anchored. The chatter calmed, distilling into a soft hum. He stayed there for a long time, basking in the warmth. Keeping the balance.

Piece by piece, he confronted his fears and released them. It was neither pleasant nor easy to delve into, and equally difficult to let go. Cere had betrayed his trust once; would she do the same again? And the voices, pushing him to negative emotions far too easily. Was this what the Council had warned of? His inevitable fall to the dark side, heralded by deceit.

“The push you needed.”

“Too weak to resist.”

Unable to release them into the Force, he squashed them down somewhere deep inside.

“You were never going to be a Jedi.”

He had to maintain balance; else it would consume him. A fine line on which he teetered precariously.

“Pathetic.”

“All you know is failure.”

He couldn’t shut them out. They wouldn’t stop screaming.

“You let your master die.”

“It should have been you.”

With a gasp he snapped back to the forest. For a horrible moment he was falling, his back hitting damp earth. BD let out an alarmed whistle, followed by a concerned string of binary. “I’m alright,” he said, still reeling. He lay there for a moment to collect his racing thoughts. The water dripping in his eyes soon forced him to move so he got up and sat back down on the log. He leant his elbows on his knees and hung his head, letting out a long sigh.

BD appeared in his line of vision a moment later, asking what happened. “I tried meditating again. It didn’t work.”

BD turned his head to look around, doing a quick scan. As far as he could tell there was no damage to his surroundings.

“So?”

So, BD said, managing to sound contrary in binary, Cal hadn’t completely lost control like last time.

Cal looked around to check for himself. Sure, enough the undergrowth around him remained intact aside from where he’d lost his balance. No flattened bushes or cracked trees in sight. BD whistled, reminding him he was doing better than he thought.

“Thanks buddy,” he said, patting his head.

It didn’t take long for BD to become distracted again, chasing after a particularly interesting bug. Cal watched him with amusement, trying to sift through the tangle of thoughts. The burden felt lighter, despite the setback. Maybe he had achieved something after all, but there was still a long way to go.

After scanning every available specimen, BD returned to Cal with an alert that it was likely to get dark within the next few hours. “Guess it’s time to head back anyway,” he said, getting to his feet.

It was quicker getting back to the Mantis since they were walking downhill. The brief respite from the rain didn’t hold, the clouds opening to unleash a torrential downpour. Cal was already damp from the light rain earlier so didn’t bother trying to keep his hood up. Once he was back on the Mantis he could take a shower to warm up anyway.

As BD had predicted, it was almost completely dark by the time they reached the meadow, heavy clouds blocking what little daylight remained. Light spilled from the Mantis into the surroundings, warm and inviting. He headed up the ramp and pressed the button to open the door. It didn’t move. He tried again to the same result.

He was about to knock and call for Greez when he was interrupted. “Cal, over here,” Cere called. In the darkness he struggled to see her.

“To the right.”

Sure enough, sheltered under the hull stood Cere, waving him over. Cal cast a longing gaze to the door. He didn’t really want to have this conversation now, but he’d put it off for too long already.

“You can’t trust her.”

“Keep your opinions to yourself,” he hissed under his breath as he walked back down the ramp.

She moved further back so there was enough room for both of them to stay out of the rain. “Did you fall in a river?” she asked, taking in his sodden appearance.

“No, I, uh… I guess the rain stops bothering you after five years.”

“I’m surprised you don’t hate it after that long.”

“I used to. But it’s different when you know you can get dry again after.”

Cere nodded, crossing her arms and looking down at the ground. “We need to talk.”

“So you can tell more lies?”

“Greez locked us out. I think he’s had enough of us,” she said with a bitter laugh.

“I don’t blame him.”

Silence hung heavy between them for several excruciating seconds. Cal didn’t know how to begin, and it seemed neither did Cere.

“I am sorry for what happened,” she said eventually. “Truly.”

“No she isn’t.”

Cal couldn’t supress the flash of irritation. It must have shown as Cere took half a step back.

“I believe you,” he said, countering the voices before they sank their claws in. “Look, after the arena my head was a mess….” He didn’t know how to say the next part. But it needed saying and withholding it wasn’t going to fix anything. He let out a heavy sigh. “Whenever you’re around, they get… upset,” he said, gesturing to his head.

“That’s putting it fucking mildly.”

“It makes it hard to think straight without losing my temper, so I’ve tried to avoid you.”

“Oh,” was all she said, watching him carefully. “You… seem fine now.”

“They’re not as loud after getting away for a while,” he shrugged. “But they’re still there. Telling me not to trust you.”

“Do you listen?”

“I’m trying not to. I get it, why you lied. Stars know there are things in my past I never want to talk about. But she was your Padawan, and you told me she was dead. And then she turns up and tells me how you handed her over to the Empire.”

Cere cast her gaze back to the ground, quiet for a long moment. “I tried to resist. I didn’t give her up willingly. But they have… ways of getting into your head. I wasn’t strong enough for her. And I have to live with what I did to her for the rest of my life.

“I never thought what I did would hurt you like it did. I didn’t even think we would come across the Sec- Trilla again. I’m sorry you found out the truth the way you did.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“She’ll do it again.”

“Cut it out,” he hissed. “Sorry, that wasn’t—”

“I know.”

Tempering the simmering anger, he took a deep breath. Then another.

“I’m not hiding anything else. Nothing that will affect you or this mission anyway. Like you said, there’s plenty in my past I never want to touch, but this… this does change things. And now you know the truth.”

“The full truth?”

“The broad strokes of it, yes. Forgive me if I don’t want to go into detail.”

“I won’t ask you to.”

“How else can you be sure?”

“We still have a mission to complete,” she said. “Are you with me?”

“Yes,” he said, leaving no room for doubt. They may have suffered a setback, but he was as determined as ever to retrieve the holocron.

She nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, why don’t we tell Greez the good news. You look a few minutes away from hypothermia.”

Cal laughed, letting her lead them up the ramp to bang on the door. “Greez! Let us in!” she called. A moment later the door opened. Greez narrowed his eyes at the two of them, standing guard.

“You two sorted out whatever’s going on between you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

Greez stared them down a moment longer. “No more of… whatever that was. You two have to play nice now.”

“We will,” Cere said.

“Alright, get in,” he said, standing aside. Grateful to get out of the rain, they filed in. “Woah Cal. You’re dripping all over my deck.”

“Sorry,” he said. He pulled his poncho over his head but was unsure where to put it.

“Go stick that in the laundry. And take a shower while you’re at it. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Cal didn’t need telling twice, heading straight for the fresher. With his clothes in the wash, he didn’t take long to shower. When he was dressed in clean, dry clothes, he wandered out to the kitchen. Three plates sat at the table, but only Greez was present.

“Where’s Cere?”

“We got a transmission, so she went to see who it is.”

Cal hovered by the table; attention turned to the cockpit. There weren’t many people who knew the Mantis’s contact code, and fewer Cere was willing to listen to. After an excruciating wait of two minutes, she removed her headset and came out of the cockpit.

“It’s Mari Kosan. They found Tarfful.”

Chapter Text

Mari Kosan’s message brought mixed feelings. The good news was that Tarfful was willing to meet with Cal and share what he knew of Cordova’s journey. The bad was that the Empire had taken back control of the refinery, forcing most of the Partisans to leave Kashyyyk. Only a small group had chosen to remain with the Wookiees.

It wasn't what Cal had hoped for, but dwelling on it wasn’t going to help. As he’d told Saw, he had his own mission. He couldn’t abandon it to help the Wookiees no matter how badly he wanted to. He had to pick his battles. At least it sounded like Tarfful was doing a decent job leading the resistance on the ground. No more prisoners had been taken, and without workers the refinery was next to useless. And that was assuming they ever got it operational again. Small victories.

Their return to the forest world ended in success, despite the odds. Tarfful told Cal of Cordova’s last visit to the planet; that he’d found something significant at the top of the Origin tree, though he did not know what. With only the vague direction to keep climbing, Cal and BD-1 had set off, following in the Jedi Master's footsteps once more.

It would have been a straight-forward climb if not for the Ninth Sister. She must have heard reports of Cal and come to hunt him down herself, first by blasting him with her ship’s cannons, and then in a duel at the top of the Origin Tree.

Cal still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to best her. She was bigger, faster, and stronger than him, and had significantly more combat training. But ultimately she had allowed her hatred and rage to get the better of her, giving Cal the edge he needed to win. He’d hoped that when she fell that would be the end of it, but he’d been unable to get her words out of his head, rattling around inside his skull.

The voices weren’t helping matters either, paraphrasing her words back to him in their typical approximation of real speech. It was a small mercy he hadn’t picked up any actual echoes from her. He wasn’t sure he’d cope having to live with all that pain and darkness lingering in his mind, poisoning his thoughts.

When the Ninth Sister had talked about what it took for her to become an Inquisitor, the suffering she’d endured and the pain that fuelled her, she’d made it sound… inevitable. That anyone taken to whatever dark and twisted place the Inquisitorius hailed from either died or succumbed to the darkness and joined their ranks.

Cere hadn’t though. She escaped and promptly cut herself off from the Force, severing that connection before it could consume her. Whatever happened to her must have been truly horrific, but she had survived it as herself, not as the Empire’s puppet.

No matter what he still thought of her deception, he couldn’t deny she was strong. She had only been trying to protect herself by lying, not thinking of how it would impact Cal. For a long time she hadn’t had to think of anyone else. Greez had nothing to do with the Jedi or the purge, so he’d never needed to know that part of her past. Was it really any different from what Cal had done by hiding his psychometry?

He approached her about it once he returned to the Mantis. It wasn’t forgiveness but letting her know that he understood why. It was enough for now, some of the residual tension releasing. Which was just as well because their next destination didn’t exactly make for a short trip.

The journey itself was uneventful. Things almost went back to how they were before the disastrous return to Zeffo. Cal felt able to simply exist, free of the voices twisting his thoughts against him.

A little over a week later they dropped out of hyperspace. Dathomir lay before them, illuminated by its bleeding sun. Cal didn’t know much about the planet; only what Cere had told him on their way over. It had once been home to a group known as the Nightsisters, powerful witches who tapped into the dark side to power their magick and weave together spells. They’d been wiped out some time during the Clone Wars, and only their male counterparts, the Nightbrothers, remained. Cal couldn’t help but draw parallels to what happened to the Jedi. Both cultures wiped out by the will of the Empire with next to nothing left.

It was only as they entered Dathomir’s atmosphere that Cal started to feel uneasy. At first he dismissed it, trying to convince himself it was just nerves. It only grew stronger the closer they got to the coordinates BD had unlocked along with Cordova’s log. It was like the planet itself was warning him to stay away.

“There is only pain for you here.”

“Are you alright?” Cere asked once they landed. Cal nearly jumped out of his skin. He was double checking he had everything he needed before heading out, but evidently he’d taken a little too long, drawing Cere’s attention.

“It’s this place,” he said, grabbing his canteen to fill, hoping to hide some of his anxiety. “I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like the planet itself is… dark.”

“Dathomir is steeped in centuries of magick,” she said. “It’s no surprise that’s left an impression. Especially not someone with your… ability.” He sighed, thanking the stars she didn’t refer to his psychometry as a gift. It was all he’d ever heard on Coruscant, how he was gifted or blessed in the Force. He’d long since grown to resent it when it had done nothing but make his life miserable. It was a small kindness Cere never called it as such despite her clear instinct to, and he appreciated it greatly.

Cere lingered as he filled his canteen, looking like she had more to say. He turned to her inquisitively, waiting for her to speak. “How is… are the voices?” she asked, unsure of the wording.

He shrugged, securing the lid on his canteen before slotting it in its place on his belt. “Agitated. There’s a vague warning, but it’s not specific. It’s probably just from all that magick, right?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Be careful of the echoes out there. I doubt most of them are pretty.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been to the site of a massacre,” he said, aiming to lighten the mood.

“Right,” she said, her face falling.

Evidently he missed the mark. It wasn’t like Cal liked reminding her of the darker parts of his past, but equally he didn’t want her to start coddling him. With a sigh he brushed past her, BD hopping onto his back from the table as he passed.

He hit the door controls and was greeted by a blast of warm, dusty air from outside. It wasn’t as hot as he’d expected it to be, the light of the dwarf star bathing the landscape in red. Even the rock itself looked like it had been stained with blood. Fitting for a society of witches to make their home somewhere so inhospitable.

It took a little while for them to wind their way through the cliffs, the narrow path giving way to a sheer drop hundreds of meters below. They eventually came to the remnants of a settlement. It was unlike anywhere he’d seen before. The buildings here weren’t constructed but carved right out of the rock.

“Why don’t you come over here and take a look?”

“No! Over here!”

The whole place was steeped in echoes, voices pulling him in every direction. Already a dull ache was building in his skull, the voices clamouring for attention, imploring him to seek out the echoes and experience the terrible past. Kriff, why couldn’t Cordova have gone somewhere that wasn’t soaked in tragedy. It was only going to get worse the further he went but the only way to find the tomb was to go through.

“This isn’t working,” he muttered, massaging his aching eyes. He got to his knees on a relatively flat part of the road and assumed his usual position for meditating. He’d practiced a couple of times while on Kashyyyk, learning to hold the balance between dampening the voices and not diving so deep that he lost control. It wasn’t perfect and always left him with a headache, but if he could make the ghosts of the past quieter just while he passed through this place, it was worth trying.

He closed his eyes and took a few slow, measured breaths. He ignored the voices, imagining brushing them aside, pushing them to the edges of his mind and focusing on the Force itself. He soon found himself pulled in two directions. The voices demanding he listen to them The Force drawing him deeper. He resisted both, leaving him caught somewhere in the middle while still maintaining control.

It took effort to hold this state, but the voices were easier to ignore, muted in the presence of the Force. There was no way to keep this delicate balance for long, but hopefully beyond the village, the echoes would become sparse.

Once he was certain he’d found the balance, he opened his eyes and rose to his feet. The echoes still pressed in from all sides, but without the voices shouting at him they were much easier to leave behind. He followed the winding path through the remnants of the abandoned settlement, slowly making his way to the upper level.

Roads branched off in all directions, leading to different levels. Perhaps they once served as different districts. This wasn’t the kind of place he could slow down to explore, so he’d likely never know for sure. There were certain echoes he passed that were harder to ignore than others. Even through the Force smothering the noise he could tell they were of the genocide that had taken place. Fear and pain and death radiated from them without him having to touch them, bleeding through the Force. Raw, open wounds which could never heal. The voices got louder when one was near, threatening to upset the careful balance he carried.

After a bit of climbing where the path had given way, Cal eventually found himself on the other side of the settlement. In the distance he could see the Mantis, its sail-like fin glinting in the red sunlight. He hadn’t gone all that far, but he’d easily spent an hour winding his way out of the valley below.

From here the path sloped down once more before disappearing around a corner. From what Cal could tell, and the approximate map BD had constructed by scanning the surrounding structures, that path should lead him through the cliff and into a secondary structure. Cal knew in his gut the tomb lay just beyond it, the bad feeling from earlier only growing as he got closer. It was foreboding, a warning in the Force that something was going to happen.

With that in mind, he let go of the meditative state, wanting to turn his senses outwards. It would do him no good if he was ambushed because he wasn’t paying enough attention to his surroundings.

Instantly the voices snapped back to full volume. It threw him off-balance, having to steady himself on a nearby wall. Already he missed the relative quiet, but this was not the time to dwell on it. Maybe when they had the holocron secured he could spend more time meditating on Bogano learning to supress the voices, but that could only happen if he found the Astrium.

BD asked if he was alright when it took him longer than a few seconds to find his equilibrium. “I’m fine. It’s just the echoes,” he said, forcing himself to straighten up, massaging his temple. Heeding the Force’s warning, he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, ready to ignite it at the slightest sign of danger.

He ventured down the open path, a rising sense of dread sitting heavy in his stomach. He fought his instincts and pushed onwards.

“Turn back,” the voices hissed. “Leave this place.”

Cal could do nothing but ignore as he walked across the bridge leading up to what looked like the entrance to either a temple or a fortress. Perhaps it was once served as both. It would certainly align with what little Cal knew of Dathomiri culture. He kept a tight grip on his lightsaber. The Nightsisters may be gone, but the Nightbrothers weren’t. They would not hesitate to defend their home against an intruder.

A shiver ran down Cal’s spine as he passed over the threshold into the dark. With every step he took, the Force pressed further against him, the voices shifting from warnings to something more sinister.

“You’ll find only death here.”

It was smothering, a dark blanket of fear and despair clouding his thoughts. He did his best to keep his head clear and focus on the mission, but it was hard when the voices revolted against him.

“Leave or die.”

In all the years he’d had to live with the voices in his head, he’d never experienced anything like it. Outside of extreme circumstances, they’d usually aligned with his own thoughts, echoing similar experiences from the multitude he’d picked up.

This was something else entirely. It was like they were being influenced by an outside force, turning the noise into a weapon against him.

Perhaps he should turn back. Or at least tell Cere what was happening. She hadn’t led him astray so far when it came to healing his connection to the Force. But there was that part of him that didn’t want to show weakness. He had to be strong. He was supposed to be a Jedi, wasn’t he? And Jedi didn’t get scared, not even in the face of the dark side.

Frozen by indecision, he stood in the dark, the only light filtering through the archway at his back. The Force tugged at him, another warning. Unlike before this one was specific, an imminent threat from above. He ignited his lightsaber, casting his gaze up.

Several large spider-like creatures crawled down the walls, hissing and spitting at the sudden bright light. While they weren’t anywhere as large as wyyyschokks, they were still a threat. He ran ahead, hoping to find a larger space where he could move more freely. The spiders followed, swarming the narrow passage.

He didn’t have to go far before he found himself in an atrium. He didn’t have time to look around, focused on not getting bitten. He slashed at the ones that came too close, his blade effortlessly cutting through several legs in one swipe. They hissed, scuttling away as their uninjured brethren came forth.

Another tug in the Force gave Cal just enough warning to dodge a glob of what could honestly either be poison or acid from the way it bubbled on the floor. He avoided getting hit by it, but it left him open to being bitten. Another spider clawed at his leg, about to sink its grotesque fangs into him. He kicked it off before cutting it in half.

There were too many of them to take on individually, swarming around him. Despite the darkness present in his mind, he reached out to the Force and pushed with both hands. The spiders went flying backwards, momentarily too stunned to move. Cal took advantage of the situation, finishing them off. Only a couple of them righted themselves, but Cal could easily deal with them now he was no longer swarmed.

“That was too close,” he said to BD who beeped in agreement. Cal quickly checked himself for any obvious bites or cuts, but it seemed the thick material of his scrapper gear had saved him from anything serious. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”

Numerous rooms branched off from the one he was currently stood in, but one archway was much larger than the others. It stood to reason that the way through would be the largest passage, so he followed it.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that the torches were lit in here. Someone must have been through recently, but he couldn’t sense anything in the Force. If they were still around, they were very good at masking their presence.

“Go before it’s too late.”

He could see red light spilling in just around the corner now, a slight breeze blowing through the ruins. BD chirped, hoping off Cal’s back and scuttling over to the base of a pillar to scan it. Curious, Cal followed, crouching down to see what he’d found. There were no echoes here, so he reached out to brush away the dust.

Though they were heavily eroded by time, Cal recognised them anywhere. Zeffonian runes circled the base of the pillar, the distinctive shapes the same as the ones he’d chased across the galaxy. “Looks like the Zeffo were here.” They were on the right track, despite Cal’s growing unease.

“She’s coming.”

Cal shot to his feet, looking around for any sign of danger. He still couldn’t sense the presence of anyone else in the Force, though it was getting hard to tell with the disruption. A green glow behind him had him whipping around, ready to confront whatever enemy had just presented itself.

Before his eyes, unnatural green fire resolved into a figure. A grey-skinned woman stepped forward, wearing red and black robes gilded with gold. He held his lightsaber ready but didn’t ignite it yet. He might be able to talk his way out of this one.

“You trespass, Jedi,” she said, spitting the title like a curse.

“You must be a Nightsister,” he said, forcing himself to relax from his fighting stance. He didn’t want to provoke her into attacking. She might even be able to help him, knowing this place better than he ever could. “I heard you were all dead.”

Words had never been his strength, not having needed them when action was usually far more effective at getting the job done. He knew he’d misspoken when anger flashed in her eyes.

“Not all,” she said with a dangerous tilt of her head. Green fire engulfed her hand and with a flick of her wrist two Nightbrothers appeared behind her bearing nasty looking weapons. “Dathomir is forbidden to you. Leave at once,” she commanded, pointing back the way he’d come.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, holding his hands up as the Nightbrothers took a few steps closer. “Perhaps we could work together. You see I—”

As one, the Nightbrothers raised their weapons, readying for a fight. “Easy!” he said, dropping into a fighting stance, his lightsaber still dormant but ready at a moment’s notice. “I’m not your enemy.”

“Your actions say otherwise,” the Nightsister said, venom dripping from her words. She raised her hands, glowing with magick.

“Wait, hold on. I’m not here to—”

His plea went unheard. She dropped her hands, magick flowing from her to the Nightbrothers. Cal had no idea what she’d just done, but it couldn’t be anything good. She disappeared just as quickly as she’d come while the Nightbrothers writhed, changing with her magick flowing through their veins.

It was only as they fixed their fiery gaze on Cal that he ignited his lightsaber. He didn’t want to fight them, but he’d been left without a choice. He needed to find the tomb and retrieve the Astrium and they were standing in his way. The one on the left charged at him first, swinging his mace in a wide arc. If it had connected, Cal would have been sent flying into the nearest wall, but he dropped into a roll, the weapon passing through the empty air where he’d just been standing.

In one fluid move he got back to his feet and brought his own weapon up, slicing the Nightbrother across the back. Cal didn’t wait to see if he got back up, already turning his attention to the second. Unlike his fallen comrade, he was keeping his distance, waiting to see what Cal would do.

Cal didn’t want to be the one to initiate the fight, but he didn’t see a way out of this where they both walked away. He didn’t have to wait long for the Nightbrother to make a move, rushing Cal, sweeping his mace low.

He couldn’t roll away this time, so he dodged backwards, narrowly avoiding the mace’s sharp edges. He swung his lightsaber, aiming to strike the Nightbrother across his chest. He was too fast, only the tip of his blade making contact. Enough to burn, but not to kill. The pain should’ve been incapacitating, but the Nightbrother barely seemed to notice, shrugging it off with a growl. Whatever the Nightsister had done to him, it sure made for an effective soldier.

“Move!” the voices yelled when Cal was too distracted to notice the Nightbrother already aiming for his head. Cal ducked, swinging his lightsaber around to cut off his arm. The Nightbrother registered the pain this time, letting out a guttural cry even as he swung his remaining fist at Cal. With another quick slice, the Nightbrother fell to the ground, never to get back up.

“That could’ve gone better,” he said to BD, breathing hard. BD whistled in agreement. Cal couldn’t sense the Nightsister nearby, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to materialise out of thin air again. He extinguished his blade but kept the hilt in hand as he ventured on.

As soon as he stepped outside, his eyes were drawn to twin spires in the distance, looming over the landscape. Unlike everything Cal had seen so far, these were not built of red rock and clay, instead possessing a slight bluish-grey tint, much more reminiscent of the Zeffo tombs. Dread only grew at the sight of it, fear gripping his heart.

“Only darkness waits for you here.”

“That look familiar?” he asked BD, not quite managing to keep his voice from trembling. BD shifted on his back, peering over his shoulder. He whirred that it did look out of place in comparison to Dathomiri architecture. Cal didn’t need him to confirm really. The Force was strong there, drawing him in while warning him of the dangers that lay within. Whatever was waiting for him, it wasn’t going to be anything like the other tombs.

“You can still turn back.”

With a shaky breath, he pushed on. The ground had given way here, leaving a gaping maw in the ground. Fog obscured the bottom, but large, thorny vines grew up, forming a makeshift bridge. Perhaps the Nightbrothers or Nightsister had formed them this way. He tested his weight before stepping onto it. When it held, and the Force gave no further warning, he crossed, minding the sharp thorns as he went.

“There he is!” a gravelly voice cried from above. Cal looked up to see a couple of Nightbrothers, aiming what looked like energy bows his way. Several bolts struck the ground by his feet. Cal brought his lightsaber up to deflect. One of the bolts hit a Nightbrother but that did little to deter the rest of them.

There wasn’t much he could do with them all standing above him, so he reached out and pulled them with the Force. One managed to keep his footing but the other two fell, landing in the dust. Cal didn’t give them a chance to reach for their weapons, stabbing one through the back before he got to his feet.

The other struck Cal across the back, pain exploding in his shoulder. He stumbled but recovered quickly, turning to face his opponent, blade held ready. The Nightbrother was already retreating, putting enough distance between them so that he could shoot at Cal while staying out of range of his lightsaber.

Cal took a step forward to chase.

“Behind!”

He swung his lightsaber overhead without looking, trusting the Force to guide his hand. He deflected the bolt to strike harmlessly against the wall, keeping his eyes on the Nightbrother in front of him as he too raised his bow to shoot. Cal deflected that bolt too, this time sending it directly into the Nightbrother’s chest.

“Seal the doors!” the one above shouted. Cal tried to pull him down again, but he was prepared for it this time and barely even stumbled. He shot at Cal again, only to meet the same fate as his brothers, his body falling limp.

Cal didn’t dare sheathe his lightsaber this time, leaning on the Force to warn him of approaching danger. He could tell there were several Nightbrothers nearby, but they made no move to attack yet.

He soon found the door, an odd sight considering it was clearly of Zeffo origin. More runes decorated the wall above it. Taking a step back, he realised the entire structure was similar to the tombs on Zeffo, rendered in Dathomir’s red cliffs instead of silver and gold.

He tried to open the door but found it sealed as had been instructed. “Looks like we’re taking the long way around,” he said to BD.

There was an arch further down the outer wall leading inside. The place was a ruin, walls partially collapsed and rubble blocking several doors. Runes had been eroded into the walls, staining them white, depicting scenes of battle and rituals.

Though the place was falling down, it was far from abandoned. A fire burned in a pit in the middle of the first room. Weapons and supplies lay in corners, free of dust. Further inside, Cal could hear orders being shouted, echoing off the bare walls.

“You were warned.”

There was no choice but to push through and keep fighting. He had to reach the tomb, no matter what. Despite the darkness lurking in the Force, Cal opened himself up to it, letting it guide him. The Nightbrothers came for him, swarming from hidden passages with their weapons bared. Some were accompanied by spiders, spitting venom, trying to sink their fangs into his flesh.

They all fell to his blade, one by one. Cal took no pleasure in it. He never had. He may have been sent to war as a child, but he’d always been taught that taking a life should only ever be a last resort. These Nightbrothers wouldn’t listen to him. They lived for a fight and in their eyes, for whatever reason, a Jedi was a perfect target.

“Murderer.”

Cal shook his head, trying to dislodge the voice. It was getting harder to think straight the closer he got to the tomb. He couldn’t shift the feeling that maybe whatever dark presence that lay inside was influencing his actions. Shouldn’t he have tried to find a way to sneak around, to go unseen and avoid this unnecessary bloodshed?

It was too late now. He was right in the thick of it, a trail of bodies in his path, and still more Nightbrothers kept coming.

“Their blood is on your hands.”

Cal was tired and hurting all over by the time he finally made it out. The door stood to his left, still locked. There was no one left to guard it, so he flipped the switch to open it, leaning on the wall for support.

BD warbled, asking if he was alright as he tried to catch his breath. “I think so,” he sighed heavily, forcing himself to straighten up. “We’re almost there now.”

The bridge, much like the rest of the ruins, had partially collapsed, leaving only chunks of masonry standing above the misty chasm. Ice ran down Cal’s spine as he looked up at the tomb, now directly in front of him, its mere presence somehow a threat. He could now see that the two spires were perfectly aligned to capture Dathomir’s blood red moon between them.

He climbed up the nearest part of the bridge, the actual start of it having given way a long time ago. Another large chunk of it was missing ahead, but he could probably jump it with some help from the Force.

“Oh! Fellow wanderer!” a voice said form behind. It didn’t sound like a Nightbrother, but Cal whipped around, ready for another fight. A robed figure stepped out from the shadows of a pillar. Cal had walked right past him and not even sensed his presence.

“I see you met the resident Nightsister,” the stranger said when Cal only watched him warily. “But unlike most, you’re alive.”

“Something’s not right.”

It was hard to tell what the strange man was thinking, his face hidden in shadow by the hood of his dark cloak. “Ooh, a lightsaber!” he said with just a little too much enthusiasm. Most people these days didn’t recognise his weapon for what it was, believing it to be useless junk. Instinctively he reached for where it hung on his belt. “No, no, don’t hide it!” the stranger said. “That would certainly explain your survival.”

“Danger.”

“Run.”

“Who are you?” he asked, keeping his hand on the hilt.

“You don’t… no, no one to fear.”

“Liar.”

“I’m just a traveller,” he continued. “Studying the nature of extinct cultures and dead philosophies.”

He didn’t look like a scholar. More like a crazed hermit. Maybe he was harmless, but Cal would rather not test his luck. Still, this man probably had some useful information about this place if he’d been studying it, and he was the only one so far not trying to kill him on sight.

“You studying the Nightsister?” he asked, trying to sound slightly more casual.

“I study many things,” he said, dropping his voice low so that Cal had to step closer to hear him. “But yes, that Nightsister. Oh, she was only a child when the war came to this world. She had to watch her whole family perish.”

Wasn’t that a familiar story. Lightyears apart but the same thing playing out across the galaxy.

“What do you know about those ruins?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh! Ancient beyond belief,” the stranger said with an amused huff. “The Nightsister and her warrior kin were seduced by the power that lurks within,” he said ominously. Cal was starting to think he might just have a flare for the dramatic, but that didn’t ease the bad feeling he had about the man. Even the Nightsister hadn’t made his skin crawl like this, and she’d actually tried to kill him.

“Avoid the ruin,” the stranger warned as Cal took another step closer. “Or suffer the same fate,” he said lightly, as though it was only a small matter. With that, he went slinking off back to the shadows. Cal hoped he left for good. The last thing he needed was some creepy old man giving vague warnings.

It didn’t matter that there was a dark power within the tomb. If there was an Astrium left in the galaxy, it was in there. There was no choice. He had to retrieve it to open the vault and secure the holocron.

“You’ll regret this.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said to no one. “But I don’t have a choice.”

Chapter Text

Dathomir had to be one of the worst planets in the galaxy. Even with all the hostile wildlife, Kashyyyk didn’t come close. At least it was green, and the Wookiees had been nothing but welcoming. No, Dathomir had zero redeeming qualities. It was a dusty red rock where almost everyone and everything was trying to kill him.

Just as he was approaching the tomb, a Nightbrother had thought it’d be a great idea to throw a boulder on top of him. Cal had managed to not get flattened, but the rickety wooden floor had given way as though it was made of flimsiplast, sending Cal and BD-1 plummeting. Through sheer luck and with the help of the Force, they’d landed on solid ground without injury, sliding down the collapsed sections of the bridge.

“That was too close,” he said as he landed. “You alright BD?” A chirp from his back informed him that BD was similarly unscathed. “Any idea where we are?” BD shifted onto his shoulder, projecting a holomap on the ground. A small beacon indicated their current location, far below the bridge. There was no obvious way to climb back up. “Kriff, I hate this place,” he sighed.

There wasn’t much in the small space they currently stood in, but there were some vines that looked like they could hold his weight. With no other options presenting themselves, Cal pulled himself up, following the vines and hoping they led to a way out. To his dismay he found himself on an equally small section of a collapsed building with yet more vines.

“Guess we keep going up,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t keep track of how long he was climbing for, trying to use the Force to keep himself from tiring too quickly. The only upside to being dropped down the ravine was that it meant he was now further from the tomb which in turn meant the voices in his head had calmed. That ever present dread still sat heavy in his stomach, but he was no longer being taunted by his own mind.

Much to his relief, he finally made it up to a ledge, pulling himself up on shaking limbs. He rolled onto his back, letting his body go limp just for a moment. He kept his mind sharp, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of danger. BD asked if he was hurt and required a stim. “Just a little banged up from the Nightbrothers. Stims won’t do much for that. Better save them for later.”

He only lay there for a couple of minutes, just long enough for his limbs to stop feeling like jelly. With a sigh he heaved himself to his feet and took a proper look around. This area appeared to be part of a natural rock formation rather than a collapsed ruin. There was a door to his right, but knowing his luck it was probably locked or led nowhere. His only other option was a narrow, spider infested bridge but he couldn’t see where it led. The fog was much thicker down here, making it hard to see more than a few meters. He only knew the spiders were there because he could hear them chittering.

“Might as well see if we’re in luck,” he muttered under his breath, heading over to the door. To his relief it opened with a judder, getting stuck half way but leaving enough of a gap that he could squeeze through.

“Trap,” the voices whispered. Cal hesitated at the threshold, waiting to see if anything was about to jump out at him. When nothing did, he climbed into the narrow space. The rest of the passage was in a similar state, requiring Cal to pull himself through tiny gaps and past overgrown vines.

When he finally reached open space, he was met by a flash of green. “She’s here.”

Cal reached for his lightsaber, ready to end whatever feud the Nightsister had against him.

“You will go no further,” she commanded, appearing on a ledge high above.

“Stand aside,” he said marching forward and igniting his blade.

“No. He was right about you.”

“Who… what?” he asked, having no idea what she was on about now.

“Jedi are thieves and selfish liars who bring nothing but death,” she said, growing angrier with every word.

“Back off,” he warned, steel in his voice. “If you attack me again, I’ll strike you down.” It wasn’t an idle threat. If she didn’t leave him alone he would have no choice but to act. He really hoped she would back down. He didn’t want to be responsible for killing the last surviving Nightsister. He didn’t need her blood on his hands along with everyone else’s.

“Oh, I won’t do a thing,” she taunted, now eerily calm. She raised her hands, summoning a ball of green fire. “But my murdered sisters…”

“Run.”

“Run!”

She flicked her fingers, magick leaping to one of the burial pods hanging above. It burst open, the body inside dropping to the ground. To Cal’s mounting horror, the body started to move, uncurling before getting to its feet. The Nightsister awoke two others who also stood, screaming with bony fingers bared.

“They will have their revenge!” she cried before disappearing once more.

Sickly green light emanated from empty eye sockets. Cal doubted they were truly resurrected, more likely puppets for their still living sister to exact whatever revenge she felt she was owed. They were still a disconcerting sight to behold. No one had ever instructed him how to fight the undead so he hoped his usual techniques would work.

As one they leapt at him, unnaturally fast. He pushed the three of them back with the Force, giving him a precious couple of seconds to prepare while they recovered.

“I don’t know what the protocol is for this.”

“Don’t die?”

They screeched and leapt at him again, this time coming at him from different angles. He shoved one of them away, slashing at another, separating its head from its neck. The light dissipated from its eyes, the body falling in a heap.

The third clawed at him from behind, surprisingly strong for a dried-out husk. It grabbed onto him, restraining his left arm, leaving him open to attack by the other. He kicked out, trying to wrestle himself free. It fought against him, trying to rake its sharp nails down his face, grabbing on to whatever it could to stop him from throwing it off. The other one had recovered from being shoved and was charging to join the fray. Cal swiped at it with his blade, striking it across the chest. It shrieked, stumbling backward but only momentarily stunned. Cal wasn’t even sure it could feel pain.

His second strike was solid, cutting the body in half. He swung his lightsaber around, plunging it through the last Nightsister’s stomach. It screeched, its grip loosening enough that Cal could wrench his arm free. Before it could leap at him again he struck it down.

The stench of death filled the air, turning his stomach. “Just like home,” a voice said unhelpfully.

“Don’t know where you’ve been living, but no. Not like home,” he muttered as he headed for what looked like an exit. Sadly it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to Bracca. Many of the ships that came through in the early days came from the war. Hazmat were supposed to go through and dispose of the bodies, but the ships soon piled up and there simply weren’t enough workers to do the job. Cal stumbled across too many bodies in various states of decay during his time as a scrapper.

Not wanting to linger, he climbed his way out of the small space, finding himself in the remnants of a building. There were more burial pods here. He watched them from the corner of his eye as he passed through. The unease in the Force had him on edge, and he couldn’t shake the feeling the Nightsister was still watching him, her glowing eyes burning into his back.

Sure enough, the small space lit up in green and the burial pods split open. He scrambled up the rest of the wall, getting to his feet as quickly as he could, reaching for his lightsaber. BD buzzed, warning him there were two undead behind him across a gap. Only one stood this side, already charging at him.

Slightly more prepared for what he was facing this time, he cut it in half, stepping to the side to avoid the body as it fell. Across the gap the other two screeched and groaned. They’d spotted him but were unable to reach him. Unfortunately it didn’t look like there was anywhere else for Cal to go.

Cursing the Nightsisters for not building anything other than labyrinths he took a running leap at the wall, using the Force to pull himself onto it long enough to cross the gap. He pushed off, landing on top of the nearest undead, old bones splintering beneath his weight.

The other one launched itself at him before he could get to his feet, barrelling into him and knocking him into the wall. He dropped his lightsaber, needing both hands to keep the Nightsister from biting him. He didn’t want to know what kind of rot it would infect him with if given the chance. He managed to kick it off him, call his lightsaber to his hand and plunge it into its chest.

It didn’t fall immediately, struggling on his blade for an agonising second before he cut it in two. He whirled around, ready to face the other, but it hadn’t moved from where he’d landed on it. Apparently crushing them was enough to end whatever spell the still living Nightsister had placed on it.

Cal almost felt bad for them. Using the dead in this manner wasn’t right. They should be left to rest, not turned into soldiers to settle a perceived debt. He couldn’t imagine bringing the fallen clones of the Thirteenth Battalion back like that, even when they’d been outnumbered by Separatist forces as a last resort.

He shuddered at the thought, shaking it form his head. The only way out was up so on he climbed, pulling himself through gaps in the floor and along the vines growing on the walls. He eventually made it up to a particularly large vine, big enough to stand on if he was careful.

He jumped off the vine to the nearest bit of the ruin, hoping it wouldn’t crumble beneath him. It held and he quickly clambered down to solid ground. There were more burial pods here so, lightsaber in hand, he quickly made his way through.

“Close now.”

“Just up there.”

Cal slowed as the voiced tugged. If he focussed, he could feel the pull of an echo nearby.

“Go on. Just a small detour.”

Despite knowing better, he did as he was told. He’d be quick, and it wasn’t far out of his way. After a couple of minutes of searching, he found the source. A simple wooden bowl, cracked but otherwise unassuming. The echo itself wasn’t powerful, but strongly radiated negative emotions. Curiosity getting the better of him, he picked it up.

She had hoped she’d be numb to it by now. How many of her sisters had she buried already? And how many were still left? Countless bodies left to rot where they fell. There was no way she could possibly prepare them all before decay set in. Already it was becoming difficult to even wash the bodies, the stench making her physically ill.

She’d done what she could with magick to slow the process, the bodies decomposing in a matter of weeks instead of days. But she was growing weak now, the spell failing. This might be the last one she managed before she was forced to give up.

The sister lying before her was too disfigured for her to identify, half of her face burnt off, the other half bloated by decomposition. She had no idea if she was someone she had once held dear in life but treated her as such in death. It was the least she could do.

Tears rolled down Cal’s cheeks, overcome with grief. It took him a moment to remember himself, having to physically shake himself from the echo. He was not that lonely little girl burying her people, but he had been in her place. He had not had to witness the deaths of all the Jedi, but he’d been surrounded the news of it for months after. It was all anyone could talk about, and it was the last thing Cal had wanted to hear.

He took a shaky breath, putting the bowl back down carefully and backing away. He wondered how many of the burial pods the Nightsister had made by herself. He admittedly knew very little about them, but the impression he’d gotten from the echo was that it was difficult work, meant for many hands working together, not a lone child.

BD beeped softly, checking he was alright. “Yeah. It was the Nightsister, not long after everyone was killed,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse from crying. “She had to lay her sisters to rest by herself.” He wiped his tears on his sleeve and did his best to pull himself together. He still had to get out of here and back up to the tomb.

He scaled the ruins for a while longer until he heard voices coming from above. They were too far for him to make out what they were saying. Cal kept quiet, trying not to draw attention to himself. If they hadn’t spotted him yet then maybe he could sneak past.

This area at least looked like it was more stable than the sunken, crumbling ruins below. He moved silently, keeping close to the wall so as not to make himself a target. Ahead he could see a small group of Nightbrothers sitting around a fire, weapons within reach. He still couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but as long as it wasn’t him then it didn’t really matter.

The path dropped off, a chasm separating them. There was however a doorway to his left carved into the cliff. It didn’t seem he had any other choice, so he headed inside. The air inside was cool and damp, sitting heavy in his lungs. He could hear something moving but he didn’t dare ignite his lightsaber to see what it was. BD had his torch on its dimmest setting, providing just enough light so that Cal didn’t trip on the uneven ground.

Just ahead he could see a large chamber, illuminated by the light from the Nightbrothers’ fire. He signalled for BD to turn off his light. Multiple paths led deeper into the cliff from here. The difficulty would be reaching one of them without the Nightbrothers seeing him.

Keeping low, he went into the room, trying to stick to the wall. He barely made it three steps before he heard something large clicking to his right. He froze in place, fearing what it might be. He couldn’t see much in the darkness, but he could just about make out the silhouette of one of the large spiders the Nightbrothers seemed so fond of. It regarded him for a moment before letting out a screech, jumping on him.

“Shit,” he hissed, standing at his full height. He could already hear the Nightbrothers giving orders, their shadows dancing on the walls as they came looking for the disruption. His cover blown, he reached for his lightsaber, ready to defend himself.

Just as the first Nightbrother came into view, wielding an energy bow, Cal used the Force to throw the spider at him. It was only a temporary distraction, but it was enough for Cal to close the distance and stab him through the chest.

His brethren weren’t far behind, storming down the corridor with weapons at the ready. Distracted by the Nightbrothers, Cal forgot about the spider until sharp pain raced up his leg. He cried out as it sank its fangs into his flesh but dispatched it quickly, kicking away its corpse. There wasn’t time to worry about whether its bite was venomous. It wouldn’t matter if his head was caved in by a Nightbrother.

The fight was a short one, Cal holding his ground at the far end of the corridor so that only one of them could attack at a time. He cut the first Nightbrother’s mace in half as he brought it down in an overhead arc, followed by a slash across the chest. The other Nightbrother went low, aiming for Cal’s already injured leg. He barely managed to dodge out of the way, overbalancing. To compensate, he shoved his opponent with the Force into the wall, giving him enough time to act.

Once the immediate threat was dealt with, he turned his attention to his now bleeding leg. The spider had pierced through his trousers, leaving two ragged holes now wet with blood. He limped over tot he now deserted fire to get a better look, rolling the fabric up to inspect the wound. The puncture marks were about a centimetre in diameter but didn’t look like they’d gone deep, the bleeding already mostly stopped.

 “Hey BD, how worried should I be?” he asked.

BD hopped down from his back, skittering back over to the spider to scan it first, then back to inspect Cal’s leg. After a tense moment he informed Cal that it was unlikely the spider had envenomated him. “Oh, so they are venomous,” he said, mentally adding it to the list of things he hated about this planet. “Toss me a stim. I don’t want to take any chances. Who knows what those things have been eating.” BD ejected a stim which Cal caught mid-air. He injected it between the two bite marks and tossed it aside, rolling down his trouser leg.

He had a decision to make now. Either he could take his chances by taking one of the paths leading further underground and hope that he’d emerge somewhere in the vicinity of the tomb, or he could follow the path around the side of the cliff. That seemed to be the route most often used by the Nightbrothers so there was a higher chance of him arriving at the right place, but that also greatly increased his chances of running into more danger. And he was really tired of fighting.

“Which way do you think we should go?” he asked BD as he climbed onto Cal’s back. According to BD, their chances of finding their way back to the tomb were significantly higher if they followed the Nightbrother’s path.

“Nightbrothers it is,” he said grimly

Chapter Text

Cal was tired. No, scratch that, he was kriffing exhausted. After fighting his way through countless Nightbrothers, spiders, undead, and a horrible beast which had tried to squash him flat and eat him, he’d finally made it to a Nightbrother village, only to end up dumped in a swamp infested with even more things that wanted him dead.

Yeah, Dathomir was firmly his least favourite place in the entire galaxy.

After even more fighting and climbing, he’d finally made it up onto the cliffs. He’d never been so glad to see the Mantis in his life, sitting in the distance exactly where he’d left it several hours ago.

“You could just leave.”

“Get on the ship and don’t come back.”

The further he’d climbed, the worse the voices had gotten, relentlessly taunting him. It was how he knew he was moving in the right direction.

“You won’t make it. It’s too dangerous.”

“Better to give up now than end up dead.”

Cal let out a weary sigh, rubbing his eyes. “You know I can’t give up. We’ve come too far.”

“You don’t know what waits inside.”

A chill ran down his spine, dread sitting heavy in his stomach. “You don’t either,” he said stubbornly, turning from the view to continue back to the tomb. As he headed through the narrow passage, he tried to shake the seed of doubt from his mind. The voices continued to needle him, taunting and worrying and loud.

What if there was something inside the tomb? It wouldn’t be the first time the Force had warned him of danger through the voices. Was this what repairing his connection looked like now? Warnings and a bad feeling?

No. It had always been like this. Maybe not so intense, but they’d always been like this. It was just the planet, bathed in the dark. Everything would be fine once he left this place far behind.

“Cal,” Cere’s voice crackled loudly in his ear, almost scaring him to death. He’d been unable to use his comm for so long down in the swamp he’d forgotten he even had it. “Are you there?”

“Cere,” he breathed in relief, squeezing himself through a narrow gap in the rock. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. We lost you for a while there.” While her words were carefully neutral, he could pick up a slight waver.

“I… had to take a detour,” he said. If she wanted the whole sorry story he could tell it later. Right now, he just wanted to get the Astrium and leave as soon as possible.

“Did you find the tomb?”

“Yeah, I found it,” he said, unable to keep the slight note of fear from his voice.

“Is there something wrong?”

He thought about lying, telling Cere that there was no problem and that he’d have the Astrium soon enough. But what if there was a problem? What if he shouldn’t go into the tomb? What would it do to the voices?

“There’s something about the tomb that feels… wrong.”

“In what way?”

Cal was quiet as he reached the end of the gap, finding himself in an antechamber. “It’s the voices,” he said. “It’s like the tomb is turning them against me. I thought it was just Dathomir, but the closer I get, the worse they sound.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should leave,” he said. Then, after a moment, “That I’m not strong enough to find the Astrium.”

“Do you believe them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to.”

“But?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. They’re… they feel more real? Like they actually know things.”

“I highly doubt it,” Cere said matter-of-factly. “You said before they’re just collections of echoes. It’s just repetition.”

“But the Force-“

“The Force on Dathomir is dark. Even I can feel it, so I’m not surprise it’s affecting you as strongly as it is. But you can’t let it get to you. You’re stronger than you think. Have a little faith.”

Cal stood in silence for several long seconds, letting her words sink in. “Okay,” he breathed, nodding to himself.

“Let me know how you get on. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Thanks Cere.” With that the line fell silent. Cal took a few deep breaths to centre himself. It didn’t help on that front, but it did ease some of the nausea. If Cere thought he could do this, then maybe he would be fine. It didn’t mean he was looking forward to it though.

Much to his relief the doors at the far end of the antechamber led back to the atrium, right where he started. Lightsaber in hand, he crossed the room. The Nightsister didn’t reappear, and no more Nightbrothers had come from below. However, a new danger had taken their place. The cliffs were now crawling with the undead.

Cal dealt with them swiftly enough. He felt no remorse in cutting them down. They weren’t really alive after all, merely tools of their vengeful sister.

“This whole place is a graveyard.”

“You should not be here.”

“Oh, yay, here we go again.” The abrupt change in tone brought Cal to a stop. He could almost see the eyeroll that accompanied it. “Huh?” He scanned his surroundings but wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He didn’t find anything so didn’t linger, swiftly making his way towards the bridge.

A flash of green, burial pods bursting, long dead bodies falling. It would have been tedious if there wasn’t a very real danger. When the bridge finally came into view he let out an exhausted sigh. The man from earlier was nowhere to be found, but that was more a relief than a concern. Cal didn’t need a creepy old man to top off his list.

Yet again the voices became louder and angrier as he approached the tomb. He was far too tired to slip into the semi-meditative state he had earlier. But that was a matter for later when he would have to pass through the abandoned village. Right now, he needed to find the courage to face what lay ahead of him.

“Weakling.”

Slowly, he made his way up the steps. The twin spires loomed, the red moon a bleeding eye, watching his every move.

“Disgrace.”

His heart pounded against his ribs despite the lack of any tangible danger.

“You’ll never be fit to be a Jedi.”

He hesitated at the door, scraping together his courage.

“You cannot rebuild a dead religion.”

He reached out with the Force, unlocking the door as he had with the Vault. Ancient mechanisms groaned and creaked, the door opening slowly.

“They’re all dead.”

He stood at the threshold, the Force, dark and twisted, screaming at him not to enter. It made him almost physically sick.

“They can’t be saved.”

BD asked if he was experiencing an echo when he didn’t move. Cal didn’t have it in him to talk right now, afraid of what might slip out. He replied with action instead, taking a step inside.

“You failed them.”

Then another. And another.

Before he knew it he was standing in the middle of the room. Instinctively he knew this wasn’t all there was. The rest of the tomb lay beyond a second door standing tall in front of him. This was the source of his fear.

“Jedi are weak.”

Cal would laugh at the absurdity of it if he wasn’t so sure he’d lose his breakfast if he opened his mouth. It was only a door, and yet it was also so much more.

“Their downfall was inevitable.”

Unsticking his feet from the floor, Cal made himself keep going. The voices screamed, drowning out all other thoughts. Pressure built in his head, sharp pain lancing through his skull. He had to concentrate just to keep moving. He had to get through that door.

“Yours is too.”

There was only the oppressive darkness beckoning him to fall and the deafening screams.

“You’ll never be strong enough on your own.”

Except that wasn’t true. Cere believed in him, was counting on him to succeed. He’d come this far hadn’t he?

He reached out and touched the door.

And all at once the screaming stopped.

The galaxy shifted around him, leaving him disoriented. He couldn’t hear the voices. They weren’t just quiet, they were gone. For the first time in years, Cal heard nothing but the sound of his own ragged breathing.

He half expected to hear ringing in his ears, but of course the noise had never been real. It was like he’d stuck his head in a vacuum.

BD buzzed at him, louder and clearer than he’d ever heard him before. “Huh? Yeah, I’m… I don’t know what happened. The voices stopped.”

His friend asked for clarification, but Cal couldn’t give any. “I-I don’t know. It all just… stopped.”

And what about the door, he asked, reminding Cal why they were there. Focusing, he tried to use the Force as he had before, but nothing happened. There was no indication he’d had any effect on it whatsoever, but then Cal wasn’t entirely sure he was able to call on the Force properly right now.

Everything felt wrong and he was still reeling from it. “Nothing,” he said to BD. A wave of light-headedness washed over him. The noise was gone, but the pain remained. “I think I need to sit down for a sec.”

He did just that, all but collapsing at the base of the door. Maybe he should try meditating. Without the voices clouding his thoughts, maybe he’d finally be able to fully reach out to the Force. He was still suspicious of the cause of the silence, and the Force remained unsettled around him, though it was no longer unbearably oppressive.

He shifted so that he was kneeling, resting his hands in his lap and closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths, opening himself to the Force.

It was just another day. He had training with his master, stopping only to talk to the clones on his way.

Training went well, and Master Tapal had news. They would be leaving Bracca’s orbit soon.

A flash of red and blue. The Commander lying dead on the floor.

The clones, his friends, had turned on them.

They had to escape.

The maintenance tunnels were narrow and winding, but Cal knew them well.

The sounds of fighting drifted up through the grates.

The turbolift shaft ran right through the ship. He wouldn’t survive the fall if he slipped. The clones found him, shot at him. He was too slow to deflect, barely managing to keep his hand from being burnt but dropping his lightsaber in doing so. He would never see it again.

He made it to the escape pods, Master Tapal defending him against the barrage of blaster fire as he tried to get the door open.

A bolt struck the control panel, far too close to Cal himself. He shrank back, too afraid of getting hit.

He couldn’t move, frozen in fear.

Why was this happening?

What had they done wrong?

He watched in horror as Master Tapal was shot down, bolts tearing right through him.

In a last, desperate effort, Cal reached out to the Force, willing everything to just stop.

They fell into the escape pod, but only just. The door closed and they were ejected from the Albedo Brave.

Master Tapal did not get up.

“Hold the line,” he said, passing Cal his broken lightsaber. “Wait for the Jedi Council’s signal.”

“Trust only in the Force.”

The light faded from his eyes, a void in the Force where his Master once was. The pod shook, illuminated by the destruction of the ship he’d called home.

All Cal could do was strap himself into the nearest chair and cling on to his master’s lightsaber as though his life depended on it.

In the wake of what had just happened, that may very well be the case.

Cal opened his eyes with a ragged gasp, scrambling to his feet, head spinning. He’d tried so hard to block out that day, had done everything he could to avoid even thinking about it. It came at him in such a rush, it took him several seconds to remember he wasn’t still there, hurtling through space towards Bracca’s barren surface.

It had felt so real, like an echo but… more somehow. But he was on Dathomir, lightyears away from Bracca and whatever remained of the Albedo Brave or the escape pod. There was nothing left to carry such a memory.

It dawned on him slowly that he was no longer standing in the tomb. The walls were gone, replaced by an endless hazy void, stretching out further than he could see. The stars shone above, bright pinpricks of light. And there between them, the Albedo Brave fixed in the sky, split in two.

Where was he?

This was no echo, but neither was it reality. BD was nowhere to be found but Cal didn’t bother trying to call out to him. He would not find his friend here.

The voices had returned, a strange comfort in their familiarity. They murmured in the back of his mind, low and apprehensive, too quiet to make out.

“Padawan,” a hauntingly familiar voice boomed.

Cal turned, seeking the source of the voice in the haze. It sounded like Master Tapal but carried none of the fondness, instead spat like a curse.

A large figure emerged from the mist, resolving into his master. Cal could hardly believe his eyes. He’d seen him die in that escape pod, had felt him fade away to become one with the Force. And yet here he was.

“It is time for instruction,” he said, just as he had at the beginning of every training session. Despite having been less than half his height as his Padawan, Cal had never been intimidated by his master. He was now, hesitantly igniting his blade and taking up a defensive stance. Tapal’s blade he reminded himself, as he had lost his own five years ago. Despite his stance, Tapal did not move, his feet firmly planted in the ground, just watching.

Cal wasn’t sure what to do. The voices had gotten louder at his appearance, but it was little more than jumbled noise. He had effectively declared this a training session, so Cal stepped forward and swung his lightsaber at him.

Master Tapal blocked him as easily as swatting a fly. “Your fear cost me my life,” he growled, his voice reverberating through the hollow space.

“I’m sorry,” Cal wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he swung again, aiming low.

Master Tapal blocked him but made no move to counter. “You will always be weak.”

“I know.”

Cal tried to throw him off balance with the Force, only for Tapal to block him once more. “Show me your strength!” he shouted.

Cal attacked again, the noise in his head shifting. He nearly landed a blow this time, only for Tapal to counter, sending him flying. He landed on his back but quickly rolled to his feet. “Your will is weak. You lack discipline,” his master snarled, stalking towards him.

“I tried.”

Cal threw himself at Tapal but his master kept blocking, making it impossible for Cal to land a hit.

“Fear rules you, as always,” he snarled,

With a cry, Cal gave everything he had, unleashing all his pain and determination into landing a blow. Tapal fended his first few strikes off just as easily as before. With both hands, Cal thrust his lightsaber out, trying to penetrate Tapal’s defences.

To his horror, his blade struck Tapal in the centre of his chest, running him through. “Yes,” Tapal hissed as Cal looked up at him. “My blood is on your hands, apprentice.”

Cal went to remove his lightsaber, only for Tapal to grab hold of his hands, keeping him in place. He tried to pull away, but his master was too strong.

“You are a failure. A weakling. A traitor,” he spat. Cal was utterly helpless, frozen in place, staring up at his master’s face, filled with so much hate. The pressure on his hands increased, the noise in his head deafening. And yet, he could still hear Master Tapal clearly as he roared at him.

“You are no Jedi!”

“No!” Cal screamed.

Between one instant and the next, he was back in the tomb. Tapal was gone, the sealed door the only thing standing before him. The voices screamed, his master’s words echoing in his skull. He looked down at his hands, still holding his lightsaber in a death grip. Something wasn’t right. Lightsabers always had a presence in the Force, the kyber crystals within singing ever so softly. But now there was only silence from it.

He loosened his grip, only for bits of the casing to fall to the floor. Broken. He’d broken his master’s lightsaber, killed the crystal within. What was he supposed to do now? It was nothing but a warped bit of metal. Good for nothing.

“Just like you!” the voices snarled.

“I have to get out of here,” he said to no one.

“Coward! Traitor! Unworthy!”

The voices howled at him even as he stumbled out of the tomb. Distance didn’t seem to make a difference here; they were just as loud. Just as true in what they said.

“—not go as planned?” someone said, movement catching his attention more than the words. The strange man from earlier had returned, still skulking in the shadows. The sight of him somehow made the voices louder, a feat which Cal didn’t think was possible. He backed away cautiously as the man came closer. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Leave me alone,” he ground out, trying to reach the collapsed bridge.

“Leave you? —defenceless—? Never.” he said, intercepting him.

Cal really didn’t have the energy to spare to decipher his words beyond the screaming, but it seemed he had no choice. He just needed to get back to the Mantis. Cere would know what to do.

“Failure! It’s over!”

“Enough. Who are you really?” he snapped, squaring up to the man.

Something shifted in his eyes. The Force pulsed with danger. The man took a step back and threw off his ragged robe, arms held wide. His bare chest was heavily scarred, the mark of the Nightbrothers carved into his skin. Twin lightsabers glinted in the red sun, sheathed at the front of his belt. “Taron Malicos,” he announced. “Former Jedi. Like yourself.”

“You are no Jedi!”

“We have much in common.”

“No.”

“Are you sure.”

“—both survived the purge,” he said, trying to draw Cal in.

“And look where that got you.”

The noise was too much. He was struggling to think, his head was going to explode from the pressure inside his skull, a growing dark shape dancing in his vision. The Force was a swirling mess around him, clouding what little remained of his senses.

Malicos stepped back, turning to the vast landscape below. Cal suspected he was giving some kind of grand speech, but he couldn’t hear it. Small mercies perhaps. He was about to step towards the bridge when Malicos turned back to face him.

“The darkness here, it almost took me. You feel it too, don’t you. I can tell. I can see it in you,” he said, stepping towards him, caught in some kind of fervour. There was nowhere Cal could go other than back up the stairs to the tomb.

“You’re struggling against it, but there’s no need. See, I conquered it,” Malicos hissed, gesturing to his belt.

Cal glanced down at his lightsabers, wondering if he could grab one should Malicos decide to attack. That’s when he spotted the horns hanging at his side, tied on bits of string. “You’re the one the Nightbrothers follow,” he said.

“Run! Danger! Get away!”

“These savages only respect strength,” Malicos spat. If his lightsaber still worked he would have simply fought him and be done with it, but now he was defenceless, and Malicos had many more years of experience in combat than him. He didn’t like his odds, and without a lightsaber, he was as good as dead. “—both know—Force is a most powerful ally.”

“You used the Force to seize power,” Cal said once the pieces clicked into place. “That’s everything the Jedi stood against.”

“These are dark times!” he shouted, finally taking a step back but not leaving enough room for Cal to slip past. “They will consume us— work together!”

“I don’t need your help,” he said, trying to edge around him.

“That broken lightsaber tells a different tale,” he said. Cal was still holding it, unable to slip it to his belt. “And don’t think I can’t feel your pain. It’s bleeding into the Force, all that rage and despair. You could harness it, use it. Join my family. I can teach you how to control its power.”

Cal had no intention of doing any such thing, but before he could say as much, a new voice joined the fray, cutting through the noise. “Join my family,” the Nightsister said, drawing out the words. Green fire swirled on top of a pillar above them, a figure solidifying from the flames. “And I will teach you to control the power. Familiar words Malicos,” she snarled. Her glare was cold, commanding power in a way Cal hadn’t yet seen from her.

“Sister Merrin,” Malicos said, finally stepping away from Cal to address her. Cal eyed the way to the collapsed bridge, but it was far too exposed with the danger so close. Running would get him killed. The Nightsister was in charge now; he was merely subjected to her whims.

“For years you said the Jedi orchestrated the massacre that killed my sisters. Yet here one stands, and you seek only to bring him into your family.”

“You need to go. Now.”

“You were told to deal with it,” Malicos hissed, glancing over at Cal. “Clearly you lack the power, little witch!”

Ice ran down Cal’s spine with the glare the Nightsister sent Malicos’s way. “Power?” she said, her voice echoing unnaturally, piercing through the noise once more, shaking his bones. “You are mad Malicos. Dathomir has unmade you, and my misplaced loyalty has allowed you to lead the Nightbrothers astray. Unlike the Jedi, the Nightsisters of Dathomir do not turn on their kind. Our bond is eternal.”

The voices were no longer coherent, merely filling Cal’s head with a screaming mess of fear. Malicos shouted up at the Nightsister, taunting her. Cal couldn’t make out her reply, but she was eerily still. All he could do was clutch uselessly at his head from the pain, hoping it would clear enough for him to see straight.

She raised her hand, lifting some kind of artifact to the sky. Magick swirled around her, green spilling from her eyes and mouth as she began to chant. In the distance, one of the many screaming faces carved into the cliffside also started to glow. The Force became sharp, almost cutting. Cal was sure he was going to throw up from it.

He almost missed the magick spreading out, bolts of green seeking out the burial pods. Cal knew what came next. Consequences be damned, he ran for the bridge as the bodies began to fall around him.

He struggled to keep his balance as he jumped and climbed across the broken bridge. He couldn’t hear anything but the screaming, filling his mind with doubt and despair. The only thought he could hold on to was to get back to the Mantis. He couldn’t even comm ahead to tell Greez to get ready for take-off.

The undead blocked his path, swarming him on all sides. All he could do was keep running, occasionally having to let his momentum carry him through them when they blocked his path. He couldn’t reach out to the Force. Not unless he wanted to collapse in agony.

He ran through the temple, emerging at the top of the village carved into the cliffs. The place was already swarming with the undead, but he could see the Mantis now, gleaming in the setting sunlight. He could make it. He had to.

Chapter Text

“You will always be weak.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Fear rules you, as always.”

He couldn’t think.

“My blood is on your hands, apprentice.”

“No,” he whimpered, curling in on himself. He pressed his hands to his ears. It made no difference.

“You are no Jedi!”

“Please,” he sobbed.

“Cal?”

Why couldn’t they leave him alone?

“Can you hear me?”

He flinched away from the light touch on his arms. The hands didn’t go away, taking hold of his wrists to pry his hands from his ears. “Cal, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

Cere. It was only Cere. Had he made it back to the Mantis? The last thing he remembered was running through the abandoned village, the echoes pressing in around him, tearing away what little remained of his defences. And then… nothing. A blank space.

He opened his eyes to find Cere kneeling in front of him. He was on the Mantis, sitting on the floor by the door. Master Tapal wasn’t here, and Cal wasn’t in the tomb.

“You need to breathe, Cal,” Cere said, still trying to get his attention. He gave her a shaky nod to show he was listening. It took a couple of minutes for his breathing to return to normal, leaving him shaking and exhausted.

“What happened out there? Did you find the tomb?” she asked. Cal couldn’t look her in the eyes. He curled in on himself, trying to hide. “Cal, please.”

Shamefully, he lifted his shattered lightsaber for her to see. “I saw him,” he said, voice cracking. “I saw the day he died. I saw what I did.”

“You were weak.”

“Cal—”

“Now it’s destroyed… I couldn’t save him.”

“Cal you were only a child.”

“No. No, I was weak, and slow and I got him killed. If I’d listened he’d still be alive!”

Cere was at a loss for words. She visibly grappled with herself before coming to a resolution. “It’s time I told you everything about how I escaped the Empire.” She sat on the floor opposite him and took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was to come. Cal on his part just looked down at the broken lightsaber resting in his lap, the voices spewing vitriol.

“They brought Trilla into the room. And when I saw her eyes… They showed me what I had caused. She was an Inquisitor. And something in me gave. I lost all control… and I tapped into the dark side.” The last part was said so quietly Cal almost didn’t hear it.

“I killed them all. Every last one of them.” He didn’t need the Force to feel the weight of her grief and regret. “Except for her. For years, I couldn’t forgive myself. I was a wreck because I had all this rage. And I tried pushing it down, but there was no hiding from myself, and all I wanted to do was die.”

It was a sentiment Cal was achingly familiar with. Not the rage, but the bottomless pit of guilt slowly hollowing him out for the past five years. Master Tapal was dead because of him, and he’d tried so hard to shove it far down enough that he could finally forget. But it had never worked. It was always there, just below the surface, waiting to erupt. And now it had and everything had spilled out; he didn’t know if he could ever shove it all inside again.

“After I got out, I found what Cordova had left behind on Bogano. That there was a holocron inside the Vault,” Cere continued. “It was a spark of hope that there could be a future. That we could move on.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

There was no hope for Cal. He was forever trapped by history, echoes weighing him down, waiting to remind him of his greatest failures and flaws. How could he possibly move on when his entire existence revolved around the past?

“It’s too late for me.”

Cere got to her feet, standing over Cal. “Get up,” she ordered, leaving no room for argument. Cal hesitated but did as he was told. He had to lean on the wall to get himself up, his legs unsteady and aching. Cere gave him a hand, but he managed to stay upright on his own.

“I can’t change what I did any more than you can change what happened to your master. It’s in the past. But Cal, you have to make a choice to move on.”

“How?” he asked, voice cracking.

“You’re going to start with this,” she said, pointing to the broken hilt in his hand. He held it up, wondering how it could possibly be salvaged when the crystals within were shattered. She took it in her own hands and lifted it up, looking him in the eyes.

“You are going to build a new one.”

She had to be kidding.

“The Empire took Ilum right after the purge,” he said as she headed to the holotable. He’d looked it up on the holonet not long after Bogano, along with several other important Jedi sites. All were either destroyed or corrupted by the Empire like the Temple, now serving as a palace. He followed her, keeping a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“Do you know anywhere else we can find a kyber crystal?” she asked, already punching in coordinates. “I’m all ears.”

Cal did not, but that didn’t mean this was a good idea. “I can’t fight them without a weapon.”

“Which is exactly why we need to go.”

“Cere—”

“You can do this Cal,” she said, looking up. “I believe in you. I always have, from the moment you took this mission on.”

He opened his mouth to argue but no words came.

“It’s time to move on.”

What choice did he have? If she thought he could do this, then he would. He’d already defied the odds; why not see how far his luck would stretch. “Alright. Ilum it is.”

She gave him a genuine smile, the first he’d seen from her in a long time. “Why don’t you clean up and get some rest,” she said before lowering her voice so that Greez couldn’t hear. “I think Greez will be upset when he sees the mess you’ve dragged in.”

Cal first looked down at himself then back the way he came. He was covered in dust and grime, his clothes damp from wading through the swamp. Thick red muck stuck to his boots, falling off in chunks wherever he went.

“Go on. I’ll do what I can before he sees.”

“Thank you,” he said, for more than just the mud.

They made it to the escape pods, but there wasn’t enough time. The clones opened fire before Cal could get to the control panel. Master Tapal fended them off, giving Cal a chance to open the door. His hands shook, the buttons too fiddly. He couldn’t remember the launch code, panic jumbling the sequence.

Behind him Master Tapal shouted at him to hurry but Cal could do nothing to help. With a pained cry, his master fell to his knees. Several bolts struck the wall, only a few centimeters from Cal. He shrank back, trying to make himself as small a target as possible.

They were trapped. There was nowhere they could go. He couldn’t get the door open.

They were going to die, and it was all his fault.

With great effort, Master Tapal got back to his feet. He smashed several clones into the ceiling before slamming them into the floor. Cal tried the door once more, mashing the buttons until it slid open. There was no time to celebrate. As soon as they opened Master Tapal went down. He stumbled backward, landing heavily in the pod.

Cal stood before the clones, completely defenceless but prepared to protect his master. Fire blazed across his cheek, a line of white hot pain. He screamed, reaching out to the Force, begging it to help. His prayer was answered, the clones freezing in place just long enough for him to get into the pod and close the door.

Before he could blink, they were ejected from the Albedo Brave, the ship growing smaller and smaller out the viewport. Cal paid it little mind, kneeling at his master’s side. He didn’t know what to do, how to help. He was riddled with blaster burns.

“You did this,” Master Tapal growled. “You failed me.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried, begging for forgiveness that wouldn’t come.

Master Tapal reached up and seized him by the throat. Cal tried to pry his fingers away, but he was too weak. He wanted to beg, to plead for his life, but he couldn’t breathe. He croaked, the pressure increasing. There was so much hate in his master’s eyes, it hurt almost as much as the hand around his throat.

“You are no Jedi.”

Cal woke, gasping and clawing at his neck. His entire body shook, adrenaline coursing through his veins, sweat cooling on his skin. It wasn’t real, he told himself as he regained his bearings. Master Tapal had never looked at him like that, with such hatred. He’d never hurt him. It was just a nightmare.

He glanced over at the workbench where BD-1 was sitting, powered down and charging. Dathomir had taken a lot out of the little guy, having to use his light for extended periods as Cal waded through the murky swamps and labyrinth of caves. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he got out of bed. There was no point trying to get more sleep, and the chrono said it was almost morning anyway.

Cere was already in the galley, waiting for the caf to brew. She looked up when Cal shuffled in and gave him a slight nod, both too tired for social interaction just yet. When it was ready, Cere poured two mugs of caf and handed one to Cal. They drank in companionable silence, waiting for the caffeine to kick in.

“Another nightmare?” Cere asked after a while. Cal only nodded. “Well at least this one waited until morning. Want to talk about it?”

Cal shrugged. It had felt so real, like the ones brought on by an echo. He had to remind himself that wasn’t the case. Whatever had happened in the tomb had been intense, but it wasn’t an echo. It never happened.

“I saw Master Tapal,” he croaked, clearing his throat.

“Like in the tomb?”

She shook his head. “No, this… this was the Purge. When we tried to escape. But it was different this time.”

“In what way?”

Cal hesitated, tempted to back down and shrug it off. “Talk to her,” a voice said softly. Cal lifted his gaze from the table to see Cere watching him intently, genuine concern in her eyes.

“When the escape pod launched Master Tapal was already dying,” he said, taking the plunge. “There wasn’t anything I could do. He gave me his lightsaber and told me to trust only in the Force. But in the nightmare he— he blamed me for his death and… tried to kill me.”

“Oh Cal,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He leaned into the contact, selfishly craving more. Maybe he was being obvious about it, but she drew him into a hug. He froze for a moment, not knowing what to do with his arms for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he was hugged.

His brain kicked in after a couple of seconds and he hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her. He rested his head in the crook of her shoulder while she rubbed his back. He let out a shaky sigh, tension bleeding from him.

“Better?” she asked when she pulled away.

“Yeah. Thanks,” he said with another heavy sigh.

“You know Master Tapal would never have hurt you.”

He nodded. “I know, it’s just that the vision felt so real. Like an echo.”

“Talk me through what you saw,” she said, sitting by his side.

“At first it was just a memory; what actually happened when the clones turned on us. And I saw how useless I was.”

“None of that now,” she said sternly. “Did something come after?”

Cal nodded. “I don’t know where we were, but Master Tapal was there. He wanted me to fight him.”

“Did you?”

“I-I stabbed him. Right through the heart. He didn’t die; kept blaming me for what happened to him.”

“You know he would never.”

“What if it was real though?” he asked with an edge of desperation. “I know there were some who lived on in the Force. What if that really was Master Tapal.”

“Cal, listen to me,” she said calmly. “That was not your master. You said yourself that the darkness was strong in the tomb. It was a twisted apparition, delving into your worst fears. Nothing more.”

“It changed the voices too.”

“What did? The tomb?”

“The closer I got to it, the worse they got. At first they were just sort of angry and loud. But when I was inside, they were screaming at me.”

“What did they say?”

Cal shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. He didn’t want to repeat it. Cere would just brush it off anyway. “Nothing good.”

“What’s really bothering you Cal?” she asked.

Absently he bit his lip, trying to put his fears into words. “What if the Council was right,” he said eventually in a small voice.

Cere furrowed her brows in concern. “About what?”

“Me, falling to the dark side because of my psychometry.” She didn’t say anything, just tilted her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “When I was fighting the Nightbrothers near the tomb, it was almost like the voices were… influencing me.”

“Are you sure?”

“…no. Maybe. I don’t know!” he said, burying his head in his hands. He’d never been able to fully trust his own mind, his memories blurring with all the echoes he’d picked up. How much of him was really him as opposed to all the experiences he hadn’t lived. But back there on Dathomir, it had felt like the voices were far more tangible.

“The Council was wrong,” Cere announced with such authority Cal snapped out of his spiral. He peered at her between his fingers. “They didn’t know you, only what you could do. I can’t say that I know what it’s like to have the past constantly talking to me in my head, but I do know that you’re brave and strong.” She leant forward, as though she was going to share a secret with him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You are a good person Cal.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, pressing his hands against his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“I’m proud of you. You’ve come so far since Bracca. You’ve repaired your bond with the Force and despite everything not once have you let anything set you back. Don’t let this be the thing that breaks you.”

Cal would blame it on not getting enough sleep if anyone asked, but he couldn’t quite hold back the soft sniffle that escaped. Cere rubbed his arm, offering silent support. He didn’t lift his head until he regained his composure, hastily wiping his face on his sleeve so they could pretend no tears had escaped.

“You’re not the voices in your head,” Cere said after he’d taken another deep breath. “You control them, not the other way around.”

“I managed to make then quiet for a little while,” he said, trying to focus on the single success of the trip. “Or… quieter. There was this village not far from the ship. Completely abandoned but filled with echoes. I think most were from when the Nightsisters were wiped out, but I didn’t look. The voices wanted me to, but I sort-of meditated as I was walking through.”

“Did they go away?”

“Not entirely, but they were easier to ignore. I had to concentrate really hard to do it and I had a headache the whole time.”

“But it’s progress,” she said brightly. “See, you don’t need me to tell you things you already know.”

Cal couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks Cere.”

“For what?”

“Listening.”

“Of course.”

The worst part about travelling was by far the boredom. Ilum was still a couple of days away and there was nothing to do. He’d long since cleaned the gunk and dust off BD-1 and his gear. He’d even forced himself to sit down and assess the crumpled shell of his lightsaber to see what could be salvaged. The outer casing had taken the brunt of the damage, warping out of shape. The internals seemed alright, but that was harder to check without a crystal to power everything. Still, he cleaned out the caked-on swamp mud and repaired what he could ahead of time.

With maintenance taken care of however, he found himself with very little to do. He couldn’t even practice the motions of the lightsaber forms. Short of pestering Greez to play sabacc with him he was out of ideas. BD had offered to play with him, but without hands he couldn’t exactly hold his own cards.

“Have you ever heard of sitting still?” Greez asked from the kitchen as he completed another mindless lap of the common area.

“I tried it once, wasn’t for me,” he said blithely.

“Aren’t Jedi all about being at peace or whatever?” Cal shot him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, point taken. Forget I said anything,” he muttered, waving a hand at him. “Cere’s got a bunch of holobooks. Go ask her if you can borrow one.”

Cal rolled his eyes, not that Greez could see with his back turned, going back to chopping vegetables. He may as well ask, not that he was overly fond of sitting and reading. He headed up the steps to the cabins and knocked on Cere’s door, opening a moment later. “Cal. ”

“Greez wanted me to ask if you’ve got any holobooks,” he said, slightly self-conscious.

“For him or for you?”

“Me.”

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve got anything you’d be interested in. Unless you’ve got a secret love for poetry.”

“Not really,” he said, looking down at the floor.

“What did you do to pass time on Bracca?”

“Sleep mostly,” he shrugged, elaborating when she raised an eyebrow. “Shifts were long, plus a couple hours on the train either way to the scrapyards meant there wasn’t really time to do anything but eat and pass out.”

“Forget I asked,” she said. “Alright, what did you like to do before Bracca?”

That gave Cal pause. On the Albedo Brave he mostly hung out with the clones in their downtime or explored the ship if he wasn’t training or studying. “I… don’t remember.”

“At the Temple?” she asked sadly, slightly desperate.

Cal couldn’t remember that far back. Things became a blur once the voices appeared during the war, muddying his memories before he learnt to draw a tentative line between the echoes and himself. The memories were still there, tucked away in the back of his mind, but they only surfaced when triggered like the echoes.

All he could do was shrug helplessly. Something like grief passed over Cere’s face before she quickly schooled herself into something more neutral. “Right, well we’ll need to find you a hobby or something. I expect Greez sent you here because you’ve started climbing the walls again.”

“Hey—”

“We both know it’s true,” she said, challenging him to disagree. “In the meantime, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

She motioned for him to come inside her cabin, stepping inside herself. Cal followed, the door sliding shut behind him. He hadn’t been in here before, a barrage of echoes suddenly assaulting his senses. He took a couple of seconds to throw up a quick barrier in his mind, dulling his senses and holding them back for now. He took great care not to accidentally brush against anything as he moved to sit beside Cere on her bed.

“Going to Ilum… this won’t be the last test you’ll face,” she said gravely.

“I know.”

“I don’t just mean returning to Dathomir. Every Jedi faces the dark side. It’s the test that never really ends…. And it’s very easy to fail.”

There was a heaviness to the words that spoke of experience, but not one smoothed by the passage of time. “You’re still struggling with the dark side. Even after cutting yourself off from the Force.”

She nodded solemnly. “It’s why I want you to have this.” She reached for something at her side, presenting it to him. Her lightsaber hilt, empty of its crystal. Cal could almost physically feel the pull of the echoes contained within it and had to concentrate not to get sucked in.

“Cere, I don’t—”

“You need it more than me. I don’t expect you to take it right now. I imagine there’s a lot of echoes. I’ve had it many years and it’s seen me through many tough times. But you should have it. To rebuild your own.”

Cal didn’t know what to say in the face of such a blatant show of trust. He tore his eyes from the hilt to look her in the eye. “Thank you,” he managed, though it fell far short of conveying his full gratitude.

She smiled softly, understanding despite his lack of words. “I suggest you try meditating before touching it. It might help… mitigate the impact.”

“Is that safe on the ship?”

“I don’t see why not. From what you’ve told me it sounds like you’re able to stay in control. I don’t think the ship is in any danger. I can put this in your room if you’d like?”

Cal nodded. Cere followed him to the engine room where she placed her hilt beside his on the workbench. She gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze as she passed to leave. The door closed behind her, leaving Cal in the company of the myriad of echoes.

A quiet clanking in the vents overhead heralded the arrival of BD. He poked his head out through the grate above Cal’s bed to check Greez wasn’t around before hopping down. “Been anywhere interesting?” Cal asked.

BD beeped, enthusiastically telling him about the oxygen recirculating system. He hopped up on the workbench, only to become distracted by the new lightsaber. “It’s Cere’s,” Cal said as he scanned it. “She gave it to me to fix my old one.”

BD was surprised he wasn’t already tinkering with it. Cal huffed. “Yeah, well there’s a whole lot of echoes in the way, and I’m not sure dealing with them is going to go so well.”

Cere must think he was able to do it, BD chirped, else she wouldn’t have given it to him. “She told me to meditate on it. And I will. I’m just…”

Working up the courage? “Yeah.”

BD moved to the corner of the workbench and settled down. It reminded Cal of some kind of bird whenever he did that, perching to get a better view. His silent support was appreciated. “Okay,” he breathed, shaking out the nervous energy before sitting on the stool. “Here goes nothing.”

He closed his eyes and reached out to the Force, expanding his awareness with every slow breath. Meditating in hyperspace was very different from doing it on land. Instead of the all-encompassing embrace of the Living Force flowing through everything around him, his awareness was confined to the ship.

Cere remained a void in the Force. It was no longer quite as jarring, having gotten used to it over time, but it was still unnerving. In the galley he could sense Greez still working, practically glowing in the Force against the background of nothingness. Even the plants in the terrarium had a presence. But not Cere.

As always, he couldn’t allow himself to get lost in the Force. A slip up here would have catastrophic consequences. But he trusted himself. He hadn’t lost control since the forest moon, and even that had been relatively minor. He could do this. Now all he needed was reach out to the echoes.

Reining in his awareness enough to become aware of his own body again, he held his hand out, feeling for the telltale pull of the echoes. The voices became excited, guiding his hand. Cool metal and worn leather brushed his skin.

“Where are we going Master?” she asked, grabbing her lightsaber and hurrying to catch up.

“There’s been some unrest in the Redeena system. We’re being sent to mediate.” He waited for her at the door, smiling warmly when she reached his side.

They hadn’t been on any missions away from Coruscant before. This was going to be her first proper time outside of the Order. “How long will we be gone? Why do we need to go?” She continued to bombard Master Cordova with questions all the way to the hangar, at which point the excitement of being on a ship took over.

“Keep your guard up,” she said, twirling around her apprentice to jab at her exposed side. Trilla stepped back, barely fast enough. She was getting clumsy, caught up in the exhilaration of the fight and forgetting her defences.

Trilla swung her blade, too wide, leaving an opening. Cere sidestepped with ease, anticipating the strike and taking advantage of Trilla’s mistake. This time she didn’t miss.

“You’re improving, but you need to watch your flank.”

Trilla only nodded, bent over to catch her breath. Once she had, she straightened up and asked, “Again?”

“Master, what’s happening?”

Blaster fire filled the air. Confused screaming. All around her the lights in the Force that were the Jedi, her friends, her family, extinguished one by one.

“Master!” Trilla cried, desperate for comfort Cere simply couldn’t give.

“The younglings. We need to save them.” Lightsaber in hand, she marched into the fight.

“Why is this happening?” Trilla asked, following close behind.

“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here with as many Jedi as possible. Follow my lead.”

Cal managed to hold onto himself throughout the onslaught of memories, though only just. All he could do was breathe and let the Force flow through him, taking the brunt of the effort. Slowly he became aware of his body once more. First his aching arm, his hand clenched tightly around the hilt with residual panic. Then his racing heart, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The panicked shouting and blaster fire continued to ring in his ears even as he began to come out of the meditation, the last thing to fade away.

He opened his eyes, squinting against the light sending sparks of pain through his skull. Cere’s hilt sat in his hand, silent. He set it down beside the crushed casing of Master Tapal’s and massaged his temples.

BD beeped quietly, asking if he was alright. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he croaked. “That took a lot out of me.” BD wasn’t surprised. He’d been sitting there for over an hour. “That would do it.”

It was tempting to crawl into bed and sleep off the after effects, but his stomach had other ideas, gurgling loudly. After a brief stop in the fresher to take a painkiller just in case the growing headache could be helped, he headed out to the galley.

“Here he is,” Greez said upon his arrival. “I was beginning to think we might not see you again, but Cere told me not to worry. Grab some seat, dinner’s nearly ready.”

Cere was already sat at the table, datapad now forgotten. “How did it go?” she asked cautiously.

“Good, I think. I’ve got a headache and I’m exhausted, but I’m still me.” She nodded, looking like she wanted to ask something else but didn’t know how. “I saw Trilla. As your Padawan.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded again, holding back the grief Cal knew she was still struggling with. “She seemed happy. Most of the time anyway.”

That teased a small laugh from Cere. “She was always strong-willed. It was a challenge getting her to listen sometimes, especially when she was younger. Always wanting to do things her way and finding out why that was a bad idea.” She paused, swallowed, her expression becoming sombre once more. “I fear my memories have become… tainted by my experiences. It’s hard to remember those times with anything but pain.”

There was nothing Cal could say to that, so he let the silence sit with the weight it deserved. It was only broken when Greez served dinner, lightening the mood with easy conversation.

Cal couldn’t sleep. They were due to drop out of hyperspace in the morning, but his racing thoughts wouldn’t let him rest. While he’d been able to calm himself considerably over the past few days, he was only getting more restless the closer they got. He told himself he was being ridiculous. Of all the places they’d been so far on this mission, Ilum was objectively the safest. They were going to the Temple, a place Cal already knew, and as far as their intel could tell them the Empire’s presence was minimal. There were no dangerous beasts or toxic plants. But it wasn’t the potential danger he was worried about.

After tossing and turning for over an hour he gave up and got out of bed. BD followed him through to the galley, hopping up on the table while he got himself a glass of water. Cere had given him a pad of flimsiplast and a couple of pencils after learning he didn’t have any hobbies. He’d asked what he was supposed to do with it, but she’d just shrugged, telling him he could write or draw or just crumple the sheets up and toss them around with BD if that was what he wanted to do. He’d sat at the table for a while, faced with a blank page and no idea how to fill it.

He was used to working with his hands, taking things apart and occasionally making them. BD had suggested he do that, but on paper instead of with bits of metal and wiring. Cal turned to the only thing he could think of and had started sketching plans for his new lightsaber.

He’d come up with a few designs, each more elaborate than the last. With Cere’s hilt he was finally able to repair the second emitter. In theory at least. He hadn’t quite figured out how he wanted to attach the two pieces together. Welding them together was the straightforward solution, but it didn’t sit right with him, fusing them together like that. He’d sketched a few potential solutions but hadn’t quite figured out one he was happy with.

Some of his designs only featured a single blade, in the event he couldn’t repair both emitters. He’d use Cere’s hilt for parts in that case, preferring to keep Tapal’s as his own since it was so familiar. Even so, cannibalising Cere’s hilt in that way felt… disrespectful, despite the fact she had given it to him for that explicit purpose.

“Which one do you like best?” he asked BD, spreading the sheets of flimsiplast across the table for him to see. BD considered each one carefully, taking it very seriously. After several long minutes of silent deliberation BD tapped his foot on one of the pages. It was one he’d come up with a couple of days ago and was one of the simpler double-bladed designs. “Why this one?” he asked. Because it looked the easiest to clean came the answer. Cal laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”

Cal heard the soft sound of one of the cabin doors opening from further in the ship. He didn’t think he’d been loud enough to wake anyone. Greez appeared a moment later, peering down at the pair of them from the galley steps. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, coming down to the lounge.

“Didn’t wake you, did we?”

“No, I was going to the fresher and saw the light was on.” He sat beside Cal, glancing over the scattered sheets of paper. “You drew all these?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his neck. “They’re not very good but they do the job.”

“What do you mean ‘they’re not very good’? They look like they could’ve come right out of a manual or something. I’m impressed.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“You really need to learn how to take a compliment kid.” He slid one of the sheets towards himself to get a better look. Cal doubted it made much sense to him, but he didn’t say that out loud or else he’d get told off again. “You must’ve spent a lot of time looking at schematics, huh?” he said after a minute.

“It was the best way to make sure I wasn’t about to cut through something that was going to kill me. After a few years I had the common ones memorised.”

Greez gave a concerned hum and picked up a different diagram, comparing the two. “Do you know which one you’ll go for?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, if I ever need the schematics for something drawn up from scratch, I know who I’m asking.”

“I don’t work for free.”

“I’ll make you your favourite food for a week.”

“Deal.”

Greez rolled his eyes playfully, setting the pages down. “So, what’s keeping you up?” he asked, settling back on the sofa and folding his hands over his stomach.

Cal shrugged, shuffling the sheets of flimsi around into some semblance of order.

“Ilum’s a big deal for you Jedi, right?”

“It’s one of the first trials we have to pass before becoming a Padawan,” he said softly.

“What was it like?”

“Master Yoda went with us, brought us into the Temple and gave a long speech about the connection between us, the crystals and the Force. I probably didn’t pay as much attention as I should’ve, but I could feel all these echoes all over the place.”

“That must have been overwhelming.”

Cal shrugged. “This was long before I started hearing voices, so it wasn’t too bad. Just a little distracting. After that though we were basically set lose. We were told we had to be quick or else we’d get trapped inside by the ice but later I learned that was a lie to make us get on with it. But it felt important, like our own special mission. It was exciting because it was the first time we’d left Coruscant. I got lost a few times. The Force is strong in the caves, causes visions and makes you face your fears.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Greez asked.

Cal thought about it for a moment. When he’d last been to Ilum, he’d been faced with the prospect of failure. New things had always come easily to him, probably because of his psychometry. He could experience someone doing something perfectly and have a much better idea of how it should be done. It had caused some tension between him and the other younglings, but it had also meant he’d never really learnt to lose. He’d overcome his fears then, but now there was so much more at stake.

“I know I’ll be tested,” he said. “It’s just… if it’s like the tomb I don’t think I’ll succeed.”

“But Ilum is a Jedi place, right? Dathomir was all “darkness and doom”, but this should be different.”

“Should be, but the Empire took over, same as everywhere else. It’s… kind of hard to explain, but inside the caves it’s like the Force is alive. Like you could almost see it if you just looked hard enough. I don’t know how the Empire’s presence will have affected it.”

“Want to know what I think?” Greez asked. Cal raised an eyebrow at him. “I think you’ll be just fine.”

Cal huffed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks Greez.”

“I mean it kid. I know you probably don’t care much what I think, but I’m proud of you. And not just for all the Jedi stuff. We’ve not put you in easy situations, but you’ve handled yourself better than I ever could.”

Cal gave him a small but genuine smile. He didn’t feel like he’d handled things well. Not with the breakdown he had on Ordo Eris, nor with the tomb. But he couldn’t deny he’d grown. He could meditate mostly successfully, supress the voices for at least a little while, and had regained the abilities he’d had as a Padawan. He was the strongest he’d ever been, but still so far away from where he ought to be.

“Try to get some sleep, alright. Or at least don’t let Cere catch you in here when she gets up,” he said, getting to his feet.

“I’ll try,” he said. Greez shuffled off, presumably to the refresher.

Cal idly looked over his schematics again, not really paying much attention with his mind still on Ilum. Eventually BD asked if he actually had any intention of listening to Greez. “Yeah, alright, I’m going,” he sighed. He gathered the sheets of flimsi and stood, leaving his now empty glass by the sink and headed back to his room.

He set the sheets down on the workbench and briefly contemplated sitting down to make some alterations. BD buzzed at him from behind, standing on his bed. “Fine, you win,” he said, rolling his eyes. He turned off the lights and lay down. BD climbed onto his chest and settled down, as though he thought that would be enough to keep Cal in bed. Cal wouldn’t tell him it worked.

Chapter Text

The cold was biting, wind and ice tearing at Cal. He could barely see more than a few meters in front of him and he hadn’t even gotten off the ramp yet. This was going to be difficult, but he could do it.

“Any idea which way to go?” he asked BD, shouting to be heard over the wind as he stepped outside. BD projected a partial map, indicating the rough direction Cal needed to go. Putting his head down, he wandered into the storm.

It was slow going, the deep snow making progress difficult, but the Force gradually began to tug at him, guiding him to the temple. It was almost like being welcomed home. The voices grew louder, but not in the way they had in Kujet’s tomb. Instead of clamouring for attention, they started singing. It wasn’t like when he meditated. This was a discordant wailing, loud enough to rival the wind howling in his ears and cracking with grief.

Eventually the temple came into view, towering high above the tundra. To no one’s surprise, the main door was sealed shut with ice. Trying to break it open with the Force was a sure way to exhaust himself and achieve nothing, so he set about looking for cracks in the walls. BD pointed out an opening a few meters above. It was small, but Cal had plenty experience wriggling through tiny gaps. He scrambled up the side of the icy wall, slipping only a few times, and pulled himself through.

There was no finesse to it, and he landed roughly on his hands and knees. But he was inside and out of the biting storm. The interior was covered in thick ice. Wind howled through the gaps, reaching deeper into the temple, but it was no longer deafening. The voices on the other hand were going to give him a headache from the racket they were making.

He took a moment to sit and calm them, reaching for that semi-meditative state he’d found on Dathomir. It came much easier than it had before, the noise quickly settling down. It still took concentration to maintain and wouldn’t be sustainable for long, but he didn’t squash them down quite so harshly as he had before.

Even from here, at the very edge of the temple, the echoes of millennia of Jedi initiates pressed against his consciousness. He’d sensed them the last time he was here too, but back then he’d been the only one in his head and they’d been easier to ignore with a much weaker and untrained connection to the Force. Getting caught up in the rush of finding his crystal had helped too. He wouldn’t ignore them this time. This was a part of their history, and he was probably the last Jedi who would walk these halls. If it meant he ended up carrying more voices, then for once it would be a burden he was happy to bear.

As he ventured further into the temple, he listened to the song of the Force. It wasn’t the gentle ebb and flow he had become familiar with but a mournful lament, filled with sorrow. The absence of the Jedi was keenly felt here, a wound that could never heal. Cal had never considered the possibility that a place could weep for what was lost.

After winding his way through the frozen halls and blocked passages, he eventually found himself standing in the main atrium. If he hadn’t been actively supressing the voices, he was pretty sure they would have deafened him. The space was filled with echoes from countless younglings. Every single Jedi had passed through this room, had received more or less the same lecture about the importance of kyber crystals and their connection to the Force. He didn’t even need to reach out for the awe, anxiety, excitement, doubt to wash over him like a tidal wave.

On shaking legs, he stepped into the room, heading for the centre where the concentration of echoes was strongest. He could hardly take a step without stumbling into to one. He didn’t resist, trying to let them simply wash over him instead of dragging him down.

I wonder what colour mine will be.

What if I don’t find one?

It’s even prettier in person.

An impressed whirr from BD brought him back to the present. The little droid had noticed the truly massive crystal hanging high above the centre of the room. “It’s used to melt the ice blocking the way into the caves,” he explained. Master Yoda had demonstrated it for them when he’d been here last. Cal was pretty sure part of the reason the Grandmaster came here so often was to see their shocked expressions when the sun hit the crystal and melted the ice.

He was standing in the middle of the atrium now, the very heart of the Temple. He got to one knee, placing a hand on the ground and letting all the echoes rush in. There were too many to possibly count, but he didn’t fight them, trying to bear witness without becoming ensnared. Despite their multitude, the vast majority were too weak to really offer much more than a snatch of emotion. It filled him with a strange warmth and seemed to settle something in the Force. Perhaps the wound left by the Jedi’s absence could be at least partially healed.

Cal had to take a moment after the echoes passed to centre himself, his mind a whirl of emotions and memories. He held on to his own, remembering how he’d been too distracted to fully listen to Master Yoda and using it as an anchor.

He got to his feet and brushed off the snow sticking to his trousers. “We need to let the sun in,” he said to BD, pointing to the wall of ice blocking their path. Luckily Cal had been paying attention when Master Yoda opened the way. After a bit of scrambling up the frozen path he cleared the ice from the giant mirrors and aligned them so that the weak sunbeam hit the focusing crystal. It didn’t take long for the ice to start melting and soon enough a dripping passageway was revealed.

Cal had forgotten how beautiful the crystal caves were. The walls shimmered as he made his way through, glowing softly with their own light. BD couldn’t resist scanning them, blue light scattering across the cavern, shining like stars. Cal wondered if he’d ever been here before. He couldn’t picture Cordova offering to lead an expedition of younglings. From what Cere had told him of her former master, he was usually too absorbed in his research to attend to any formal duties.

It wasn’t long before he emerged into the cavern proper. An enormous, glittering space filled with twisted, winding paths, and somewhere hiding away was his crystal. He could feel it now, a familiar tugging at the back of his mind he hadn’t felt in five years, distinct from the echoes. More urgent. He just needed to find its origin.

While the volcanic chasm had been a prominent feature of Cal’s last visit, the path leading down to the caves had since partially collapsed into it which unfortunately meant more climbing. He made it across without incident to solid ground. There were more echoes here, stronger but more spread out across the vast array of tunnels. The voices were more insistent that he seek them out, but he pushed them to the back of his mind, letting Ilum’s song in the Force do the work of drowning them out.

He closed his eyes and reached out to the Force, asking for guidance. He focused on that thin thread tugging him towards his crystal, trying to discern which direction he should go.

“Up,” came the answer. “High above.”

Cal opened his eyes and looked across the cavern. He couldn’t see anything obvious, but that only meant he had further to go. He found a passage that sloped upwards and followed it. BD hopped off his back after a while and started scanning things. Mostly all he found were crystals, but occasionally he came across things left behind by Jedi long gone. A forgotten bag, a torn glove. Most of it of little consequence, not even carrying the faintest flicker of an echo.

“There!” the voices would say sometimes. Cal would stop and try to find what they were trying to guide him to. He didn’t ignore them, not when they could potentially lead him to his crystal. But every time it was just another echo. He left the weaker ones alone. He wouldn’t find anything of interest there, merely more of the same emotions he’d found in the main chamber.

Some however were worth looking at.

How had she managed to get lost? She’d been so careful to keep track of which direction she’d come from, but she was sure she’d taken a wrong turn. It was so hard to tell. Everything looked the same, every path lined with the same glittering walls of ice and stone.

What if she never made it out of here? Would Master Yoda come looking for her, only to find her frozen body?

She sank to the ground, despair overcoming her. She would never be a Jedi if she couldn’t even get out of this stupid cave.

Why was this so hard? They should be able to do this. They’d been training for years but they had no idea where their crystal was. The Force was nothing but confusing signals leading them astray. They kicked a pillar in frustration, solving nothing and only hurting their foot in doing so.

“Where did you last see him?”

“I-I don’t know,” she said, looking around the cavern, trying to remember which way her friend had gone. “I think he went down there. I heard him call out, but I couldn’t find him. It sounded like he was hurt.”

“You’ve done the right thing by telling me. Now go, complete your own test and return with your crystal.”

“I feel like I’m surrounded by ghosts,” he muttered under his breath as he shook himself free of the latest echo. The noise was starting to creep up on him, the urge to keep looking at echoes getting harder to supress. With a concerned whirr, BD asked if he was holding up alright. “No. It’s hard to be here.” He’d never felt the weight of so many echoes before. It was a hard thing to prepare for. There wasn’t much comfort BD could offer aside from a bit of encouragement. “Thanks buddy.”

The pull of his crystal was strong now, leading him deeper into the maze of tunnels. He could almost see it in his mind, shining bright in the Force, calling him onward. It contrasted sharply with the voices, also growing stronger and insisting he stop to look at every little echo he came across. He couldn’t reasonably do both, but neither could he ignore either for too long before his head started to pound.

The only reason he didn’t push through and suffer the inevitable migraine later was that there was very little danger here. The Empire had no idea they were here yet so there was no need to rush. He could give in to the whims of the Force, finding the balance between the urgency of finding his crystal and pausing to honour the past.

He was grateful that none of the echoes he’d passed so far had been particularly strong or overwhelming. He’d have a much harder time leaving those alone. He may have gotten much better at not succumbing to their strength, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back from reaching out to one that was potentially damaging.

A warning prickled in the back of his mind, stopping him in his tracks. He couldn’t hear anything, nor did the Force give any indication of what the danger might be, only that it was near. Cautiously, Cal pushed on. He didn’t stop to look at the echoes, much to the dismay of the voices. He tried to squash them down, just enough that they weren’t so distracting.

An unfamiliar, sharp beep was the only warning he got as a shot was fired at him. He narrowly avoided getting hit, slamming his back into the jagged wall when the Force sharpened into a warning. The ground hissed where a bolt struck the ice where he’s been standing. Cal looked up to see an Imperial probe droid hovering above, its blaster already charging up for another shot.

He may not have a lightsaber, but he was far from defenceless. He held his hand out and shoved it into the wall with the Force. It sparked and juddered, dropping in the air. He’d managed to damage it enough to disable it, but now it was flying straight at him, sparking and beeping ominously. BD warned him it was about to explode so with another burst of the Force, he tossed it away. It exploded on impact, causing ice to rain down from the ceiling. Cal covered his head, protecting himself from the larger chunks until everything settled down.

“That was too close,” he said to BD who whistled in agreement. He tuned back in to the Force, trying to see if there was any more danger. What he got back was muddied, the Force disturbed, the voices and the call of the crystal mixing and distorting with the added danger of the Empire’s presence. It was enough to form the beginnings of a headache, so he withdrew. Hopefully things would calm soon, and he would be able to pick up the path to the crystal. For now, there was only one direction he could go.

“Cere, you there?” he said into his comm as he walked.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“We just came across an Imperial probe droid. We’re not hurt, but the Empire probably knows we’re here now.”

“Alright, try to be quick. I’ll make sure Greez is ready to take off as soon as you return. Good luck.”

By the time Cal emerged from the tunnel to another open chamber, the Force had settled enough that he could once again focus on the distinct pull of the crystal.

“Close now. Keep going.”

He knew which direction he had to go instinctively, following that bright beacon. Gradually the passage began to narrow, forcing Cal to squeeze through sideways. BD hopped off his back, leading the way with his torch. The crystal was close now, just at the end of this passage. He could almost see it, its presence in the Force near blinding.

The ice beneath his boot cracked. Cal panicked, trying to shuffle forward as quickly as possible before the ground gave way. BD let out a string of worried binary, but Cal didn’t have the time to listen to him. His foot went through the ice, causing him to stumble. The rest of the ground disappeared in an instant.

Cal barely managed to cling on to what was left, now eye level with BD who was hopping from foot to foot. “Stay back BD!” he said, not wanting his friend to end up falling too. Try as he might, Cal couldn’t find any purchase on the ice. He tried to pull himself up with just his arms but slipped, his hands finding nothing but slick ice. He fell into nothingness, arms wheeling in the air for anything to grab on to.

“Hold your breath,” he heard as a flash of water crossed his mind. With only a second to spare, he did as they wished, taking a deep breath and holding his nose. He plunged into icy water, the shock of it enough to make him want to gasp. He fought the instinct and managed to keep the air inside his lungs.

The water was almost pitch black save for a faint glow just ahead of him. He had no idea which way was up. With no other choice available to him, he swam towards the light. It was hard work, his muscles already stiff from the cold. The sheer effort required for each kick and stroke was exhausting. It was like swimming through syrup, but he had to keep going.

It was only a few seconds later that he realised he wasn’t going to make it. The tunnel he’d found himself in only seemed to lead deeper, the light getting no closer. His lungs were burning, and he’d stupidly left his breather on the Mantis, not having thought he’d need it in a place where the only water was frozen. He couldn’t swim any faster, his slow pace already requiring too much effort, but he kept going. He had to.

Darkness closed in, the light gradually fading. He could no longer tell which direction he was going, whether he was merely swimming down to his doom or had turned a corner and was nearing the surface. His vision was failing, his chest spasming, lungs begging for air he didn’t have. He struggled to coordinate his movements well enough to make any progress, barely able to even feel his limbs.

The light was above him now, but he couldn’t swim for it. It was too far, his body too cold and out of air. A blurry shape appeared at the water’s edge, peering down at him. His initial thought was that it was BD-1, but it was too large and humanoid in shape. No, it was human, a child. What was a child doing here?

He blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. His own face stared back at him, though about five years younger and lacking the scars he currently carried. He was wearing his Padawan robes, a braid resting on his shoulder. He stuck his arm in the water, reaching out to Cal, unbothered by the cold. He hesitated, not sure whether to trust what he was seeing. The Force was no help, murky and distant. Even the voices had retreated to an unsettled hum.

“Trust me,” his younger self said, reaching further into the water. How could Cal not? He was a child, innocent of any wrongdoing, only wanting to help as any good Jedi should. Numbly, Cal reach back, taking his hand, surprised by how solid he felt. His younger self smiled, standing and effortlessly pulling Cal to safety.

As soon as his head broke the surface he took in a ragged gasp of air, painfully dragging himself out of the water. He coughed, the cold air catching in his throat as he tried to take in another breath. He crawled across the frozen ground, curling in on himself to conserve what little heat he still had. His entire body shook violently, every muscle tense, extremities painfully numb.

The voices had returned, though no louder than their usual background chatter. The crystal too was a burning presence in his mind. He knew that if he just looked up, he would see it. Despite this, it took him a minute and great effort to lift his head.

Exactly where he thought it would be, his crystal glowed bright, the vision of his younger self walking towards it before disappearing in a flash. It was nothing like what he’d experienced during the Gathering, but that made it no less real.

With the end in sight, he summoned the energy to drag himself to his feet and stumble over to the crystal. His legs were jelly, a total lack of coordination making crossing the small cavern a difficult task. He collapsed against the icy formation the crystal sat in, using it for much needed support as he reached out for it. The insistent pull in his mind ceased the instant he touched it, hoping his numb fingers had a good enough grip to pull it free.

It took a bit of wiggling, but eventually it came loose. He caught it in his cupped palms, afraid of dropping it after everything he’d been through. He’d done it. He’d passed the test and found a new crystal. All he needed to do was repair his lightsaber and—

Without warning, the crystal split in two, the inner light dulling.

“No. No no no no no,” he said. What had he done wrong? Was there something he missed?

Devastated, he sank to the ground, cradling the broken pieces in his palms. “It’s over,” he muttered, curling in on himself against the despair and cold. Yet another failure to add to the list. The caves had found him unworthy. They would not give him another chance. What was he supposed to tell Cere? That the mission was over because he was not fit to wield a lightsaber?

An inquisitive beep brought Cal out of his thoughts. He looked up to see BD rushing towards him from a small crevice in the far wall. “Hey buddy,” he said, patting him on the head. He was slightly warm to the touch, a welcome sensation to his frozen fingers. BD pointed out that he was soaking wet and asked if he was alright.

Cal simply showed him the broken crystal in his hand. BD looked at it and let out a mournful whistle. “I failed,” he managed through chattering teeth. BD looked back up at Cal before turning around, his holoprojector coming to life.

A recording of Cordova appeared, along with an even smaller version of BD. “The time has come,” Cordova said gravely. “This may be the last you see of me. I can sense the doom of the Jedi Order is upon us.”

The recoded version of BD gave a sad series of beeps, lowering his head. “No, failure is not the end,” Cordova said. “It is a necessary part of the path. Hope will always survive in those who continue to fight. Like you, BD-1.”

Cordova knelt down before BD. “I believe you will find someone just as brave and persistent as you have been. And you will help them as you have helped me. But your memory will be completely lost. Are you sure you want to do this?”

The recorded BD lowered his head. He only hesitated a moment before insisting he was sure. Cordova took a chip from his belt and inserted it into BD. “Beginning total memory encryption. Only with a trusted connection will your memories be restored. I believe in you, as I always have. And I believe in whom you choose to replace me.”

As he spoke, Cal watched at the recoded BD-1 gradually reverted to his default pose, his head levelling out, his stance turning to a low crouch. Cordova reached out and rested his hand on his head as Cal knew he had done many times over the years. “Goodbye… old friend.”

The real BD took half a step towards Cordova before the recording cut out. He lowered his head. Somehow Cal had never really stopped to consider who the “friend” Cordova always mentioned in his recordings was, but of course it was BD-1. He was built for exploration after all. BD had already made this journey with Cordova once before to hide the holocron. And for whatever reason he believed Cal was the right person to retrieve it.

“Your memories,” Cal said softly, “you risked them for me?”

BD finally turned to Cal, emphatically asserting that he’d always believed in Cal. He then said that his scan of the broken crystal indicated that the pieces were still useable, the light within not completely gone.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, opening his hand to look at the crystals in his hand. They still had a presence in the Force now that he concentrated. Maybe he could still activate them.

With his free hand, he unclipped both hilts from his belt and lay them on the ground. He’d brought his multitool along with a small bag of parts with him too, ready to get to work. There was no time for finesse as he worked, all his previous designs ignored. He had assumed he would end up with a single crystal as most Jedi did. One was all that was required for a double bladed lightsaber, so with Cere’s he’d thought now he might be able to repair the broken half and restore it. But now he had twinned crystals, the hilts could function separate from each other.

The conventional thing to do would be to create a pair of blades, but when had Cal ever been conventional. It took a bit of work, but he cut off the broken end of Master Tapal’s hilt and used the excess metal to fashion a makeshift port to connect the base of Cere’s. After a bit of rewiring all that was left to do was insert the crystals and seal them in.

When he was done, Cal put his things away and stood on shaking legs, holding up the new hilt in both hands. He closed his eyes and reached out to the Force. He could see the crystals in his mind’s eye, twin bright points in his hands. He called on the Force, focusing on the connection between him and the kyber. With an exhilarating rush, the kyber flared bright, a connection forming in the back of his mind.

He opened his eyes and flipped the switch on both halves. The blades ignited, bathing the cavern in brilliant yellow. With a quick twist, he separated the hilts, now wielding a pair of blades. Like a giddy youngling, he gave them an experimental swing. They felt right in a way that Master Tapal’s lightsaber never had. He hadn’t really noticed before, believing the slight disjointedness to be due to his fractured connection to the Force. It had been too long since he’d wielded a blade that belonged to him that he’d forgotten how right it was.

BD gave a triumphant beep, doing an excited little spin before hopping on Cal’s back. “Thanks buddy. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He extinguished the blades and reattached them so they were once more one unit. Once he was back on the Mantis he planned to refine the modifications he’d made but for now it served its purpose.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” he asked. The hole he’d crawled out of was already freezing over, but even if it wasn’t, there was absolutely no way he’d swim back through. His body was still wracked with violent shivers, his clothes waterlogged and beginning to freeze.

BD led the way over to a crack in the wall. It was too small for Cal to be able to stand, forcing him to crawl through the tiny space. The only light came from BD’s torch, casting everything in blue. It was hard work between struggling to find enough grip to pull himself through and pushing through the stiffness of his muscles.

When he finally made it to the other side, he fell to the ground in a shivering heap. His hands were numb, his fingers a worrying shade of blueish grey. He doubted his feet were faring much better in his waterlogged boots. As tempting as it was to sit there for a moment and catch his breath, he made himself stand back up. If he stopped, he was in danger of falling asleep and never getting back up. He could rest once they were back on the Mantis he told himself.

It was harder to find his way back to the main cavern. There was no longer that pull in his mind, guiding him in the right direction. BD didn’t have this area mapped so he couldn’t help much. Cal just had to keep going and hope he didn’t take a wrong turn.

He came across more echoes, harder to ignore now with exhaustion creeping up on him and his ability to supress them entirely shot. Distantly he was aware that he should probably be more concerned that he didn’t have the energy to crouch down and touch them, despite the demands in his head. He merely glanced at them and walked straight past. His arms were wrapped firmly around his middle under his icy poncho. The thought alone of moving them required too much effort.

BD occasionally piped up with worrying reports on his temperature, steadily dropping lower and lower. It was all Cal could do to take a little bit of the Force and use it to keep his body just warm enough not to freeze completely.

“Cal, how are you doing?” Cere’s voice crackled through the comm. They must be close to the entrance now if he was able to pick up her signal. He couldn’t respond though as that would require lifting his hand to his ear and finding the button for the mic.

BD replied on his behalf, informing Cere he’d found his crystal, and they were now on their way back.

“Why isn’t Cal responding?” she asked, worry seeping through the line.

BD explained what had happened with Cal falling through the ice. He could still hear her; he just couldn’t respond. “Kriff. Get back here as fast as you can Cal. I’ve not picked up anything from Imperial communications, but that doesn’t mean they’re not looking for you.” Cal managed a jerky nod of his head to at least let BD know he understood. Cere said nothing else, so he assumed she’d cut the line.

It wasn’t long after that they came across a door. Cal still had enough presence of mind to know this wasn’t right. It was new, the shining metal coated in only a thin layer of ice, the light on the control panel blinking green. As Cal stepped towards the door, dread pooling in his stomach. The song that had been floating in the back of his mind from the caverns turned sour, the sorrow turned to sharp pain.

There was no other way forward but through. He fumbled for his lightsaber, holding it in shaking hands, ready to fight should something come charging at him but hoping there was nothing. He opened the door.

Cal was met by blinding white and a blast of frigid air, blowing snow in his face and temporarily blinding him. Once he managed to pry his eyes open once more, he found himself looking out at a deep canyon. The sight of it made him sick to his core but he didn’t know why. It was like something vital had been carved from his chest. Irreplaceable.

It took him several seconds to realise the origin of the pain was Ilum itself. It cried out through the Force, the voices weeping with it. This was more than just the absence of the Jedi. Something was deeply wrong here.

Tentatively he crept towards the edge of the platform he now stood on. He couldn’t see the bottom of the canyon, disappearing into darkness. Looking at it gave him an intense wave of vertigo, like he was being sucked in and all it would take was a particularly strong gust of wind to send him falling into the eternal black.

His chest ached, the noise in his head swelled. There was so much pain and sorrow here and he had nowhere to put it. He stumbled back from the edge, very nearly falling to his knees. BD pointed out another door that looked like it headed back into the caves. All Cal could do was nod and make his way to it on shaking legs.

This one was also unlocked, sliding closed behind him and cutting off the biting wind. Unfortunately it wasn’t empty. Two stormtroopers and a security droid had turned to look at him. As one of them raised his blaster, Cal ignited his lightsaber, calling on the Force to give him the strength to fight. He pulled the blasters from their hands, sending them flying against the wall. That did nothing to stop the security droid charging at him though.

He barely managed to get out of the way in time, his legs threatening to buckle. He brought his blade down across its back but the blow was sloppy, not deep enough to cut it in two. It turned on him and swung its fist at his head. With a quick twist, he separated the two halves of his lightsaber, cutting its arm off with one while the other cut through its legs. It fell with a loud crash on the metal floor, Cal finishing it off by cutting off its head.

The two stormtroopers had recovered their weapons by now and were already aiming at him. Letting the Force guide his hands, he blocked the incoming fire, trying to deflect the bolts back at them. He struck one across the chest, burning a black streak across his armour. He couldn’t get any closer without putting himself in danger, so he pulled them both towards him, just enough to set them off balance. It was enough of a lull for him to step in and finish them off.

There was another door on the far side of the room which he headed for, not wanting to linger here longer than he had to. BD had other ideas, hopping off his back to scan a stack of crates. “What is it?” he mumbled.

Mined kyber crystals, BD told him, along with an impressive string of profanity.

Cal felt physically sick. The Empire had been mining the crystals, destroying the planet and fracturing the Force. No wonder Ilum was screaming. “We can’t do anything here,” he said to BD. He wished this was something he could fix, but from what Cere had said, the Empire was well established across the entire planet. There was nothing they could do.

Reluctantly, BD climbed back on his shoulder. The door led back out to the caves and the oppressive pain eased somewhat. Ilum’s song changed again, not too dissimilar form how it had been when he arrived. Now there was an extra undercurrent, a mixture of profound grief and tentative hope.

He was struck by the realisation that he may very well be the last Jedi to ever set foot here. Even if they found the holocron and rebuilt the Order, the Empire wouldn’t be defeated for many more years and there was no telling what damage they would do to Ilum in the meantime. The crystals knew this and were already mourning his loss.

It wasn’t long after that they finally found the main cavern. Cal could see the entrance across the cavern from where he stood. Unfortunately reaching it required him to climb back out. He almost sank to his knees at the thought but BD, in no uncertain terms, ordered him to keep going. He could do this. It wasn’t much further and then he would be warm.

It was getting harder and harder to call on the Force for the strength he needed to pull himself out of the caves. Exhaustion clouded his mind, making his connection slippery like the ice beneath his boots. He couldn’t afford to slip up now, not with the end so near. He had to trust his body and years of experience climbing dangerous wrecks, unable to find places he could hold on to properly by touch alone as he climbed back to the main temple.

Eventually he pulled himself up and over the final ledge, rolling away from the edge. He was shaking terribly, and he had no idea if it was from the cold or exertion. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and took a short rest he would feel better.

A loud buzz startled him awake. BD was standing right in front of his head, ordering him to get back up. “Alright,” he slurred, rolling onto his hands and knees. He didn’t feel the snow under his hands, only the biting ache that permeated his body right down to his bones.

With great effort he got to his feet, having to lean against the nearest wall. BD did not get back on his shoulder, instead leading the way and occasionally turning to make sure Cal was following. It was a slow walk back to the heart of the temple and then back to the crack in the wall he’d crawled through.

Cal almost cried at having to climb through the gap, exhaustion taking its toll. He landed face first in the snow, too slow to orient himself as he fell. He barely noticed; his clothes were already frozen stiff. What was a little more to top it off.

The storm hadn’t died down at all, the wind still tearing at him, snow reducing visibility to a handful of meters. He sat in the snow, gathering his poncho around himself as best he could to ward off the biting wind. He had no idea which way the Mantis was, nor could he ask BD or else the air would be snatched right out of his lungs.

Thankfully BD took charge, telling Cal to get up and follow as he slowly headed into the storm. All Cal could do was follow, hoping his friend knew actually knew where he was going and not just leading him blindly.

It wasn’t long before Cal started to lose sight of him. “B-B-BD!” he shouted, trying to be heard. “Slow d-down!” BD paused, turning to wait for Cal to catch up before climbing up his leg. He directed Cal where to go from his shoulder, warning him if he started veering too far off course. Cal couldn’t see anything at this point, blinded by wind and snow. He had faith in BD though and held on to that as he blindly stumbled onwards.

The snow was deep. Too deep. He had to wade through it, dragging him down with every step. He was so cold. Couldn’t he just rest a moment. BD buzzed in his ear, telling him to keep going. When had he stopped? He was just standing there. He should move. He knew he should move, but his legs were rooted to the spot. He couldn’t lift them if he tried.

A strong gust of wind blew him off balance. He couldn’t correct himself so fell down with it. He couldn’t feel anything now but the deep, biting cold. He’d never be warm again. If he just closed his eyes he’d have the energy to make it home.

BD shrieked at him, ordering him to get up, to not close his eyes, but there was nothing Cal could do to resist. He’d used up all his energy. Even the Force was too distant to be of use. The voices had gone quiet a long time ago, murmuring nonsense and filling his mind with visions of ice.

Cal closed his eyes and succumbed to the cold, letting it drag him down into its icy depths.

Chapter Text

Cal was never going to be warm again. The ice was inescapable, clinging to his bones. For all he knew he was still submerged in freezing water, slowly running out of air, unable to find the surface. He didn’t think he was dead yet, though he surely wasn’t far off, as he could faintly hear voices. Surely if he was dead they would all go away, released into the Force along with his own spirit, no longer bound to him.

He needed to open his eyes, to find a way out of the freezing blackness, to find the surface and break through. He tried to listen to the voices, hoping for once they might have some useful insight, but he struggled to make any sense of what they were saying. There was a familiar quality to them however, and a consistency he wasn’t used to. The longer he listened, the more sense he was able to make. It wasn’t the usual crowd but two distinguishable voices, both equally concerned.

Their words still evaded him, but he held onto them like an anchor, using them to pull himself free of the cold’s icy grip. There was a promise of warmth there, if only he could reach it.

Gradually he clawed his way to full wakefulness, as unpleasant as it was. The cold was sharper now, prickling at his skin, his muscles aching. Despite this, he kept fighting until he finally opened his eyes. He squinted against the bright light, blinking as his eyes tried to adjust.

The first thing he realised was that he was no longer outside. The relentless wind and snow was gone, replaced by the lounge on the Mantis. Funny, as he couldn’t remember making it back on board.

The second thing he noticed was that he was wrapped in several layers of blankets. Comfort radiated from them but nothing more than that. No real echoes or voices. Instinctively he burrowed deeper into them, burying his face in their warmth.

“Cal?” Cere asked from somewhere close. Reluctantly he lifted his head to look for her, only to find her right next to him. “Welcome back,” she said when his eyes found hers, a relieved smile on her lips.

“Wha’ ‘pend?” he slurred, unable to coordinate his tongue well enough to form the words.

Cere understood anyway. “You’re severely hypothermic and collapsed on the way back to the Mantis.”

“Here kid, drink this,” Greez said, appearing from the galley. He was holding a steaming mug out but there was no way Cal could bring himself to move to take it. Cere shifted to take it instead, Cal moving with her. He realised then that he wasn’t just sitting next to Cere but was in fact sitting in her lap, leaning against her. She had one arm curled around his back, also buried under the mountain of blankets.

She took the mug from Greez and held it up for Cal to take a sip, which was just as well because he was now shivering so violently that he surely would’ve spilled the drink all over himself. The tea was overly sweet, but warmth bloomed in his chest from its pleasant heat. He took several gulps before Cere put the mug down, wrapping both arms around him once more.

Now that he was slowly regaining his faculties, he realised he’d been stripped down to his underwear. Cere was only wearing a sleeveless top with thin straps, her skin a blazing fire against his own. He couldn’t spare the energy for embarrassment.

“H-how’d you find m-me?” he stuttered.

“BD-1 told us what happened as soon as you collapsed. You weren’t far away but you’d wandered past the ship.” At the mention of his name, BD jumped up on the table, nearly knocking over the mug of tea. He whistled excitedly, glad that Cal was conscious again.

“Oh,” was all Cal managed, burrowing into the blankets once more to hide his chilled face.

“I’m just glad you made it as far as you did. Finding you wasn’t easy,” she said.

“Maybe don’t go swimming on a planet made of ice next time,” Greez said.

“I f-fell in,” Cal said, managing a smidge of indignation.

“Well then don’t fall in next time.” Cal could tell he was trying to hide his worry behind the joke, and the reason he could tell was that he was failing miserably. Tea delivered, he was now hovering in the lounge, wringing his hands.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, undermined by the continued chattering of his teeth.

“Is there anything else I can get?” he asked Cere this time. “More blankets or something?”

Cere gave an amused huff. “I don’t think there are any blankets left. You can probably turn the heat down a little though. I don’t think we need it quite this high anymore.”

“’m still cold,” Cal said miserably.

“I know,” Cere said, pulling him a little closer. “You’ll warm up soon enough. Do you want more tea?” He nodded with a tired hum. “Do you think you could hold it? It would help to warm your hands up.”

He only nodded again and tried to extricate his arms from the blankets with middling success. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, his muscles tired and aching. Cere had to help him get his hands free, rearranging the blankets to keep the rest of him covered. She reached across for the mug, BD nudging it a little closer with his head so she could grab it. She handed it to Cal, keeping one hand under the mug just in case. Ordinarily he would’ve found the coddling annoying, but he had to concede it was a reasonable precaution given how much he was still shivering.

The heat was almost unbearable on his frozen digits but finally he could feel something other than the biting cold. He wrapped his hands around the mug, letting its warmth seep into him. He just sat there for a while, holding the mug and letting his mind drift. His thoughts came like treacle, slow and thick and not really carrying much sense. As his body defrosted, seemingly so did the voices, though they remained subdued. He could still faintly hear Ilum crying out in the back of his mind, though it was blessedly muted.

He hadn’t realised he’d been falling asleep until the mug was lifted from his hands. He opened his eyes and let out a quiet whine, holding on tighter. “Sorry,” Cere said softly, letting him keep hold of it. “I didn’t want you to spill it. You should drink it before it gets cold though. Greez can always make you more.”

Cal gave a tired hum and finally took another few sips, pleasant warmth spreading in his chest once more. “We’re still on Ilum,” he said, lowering the mug to rest in his lap.

“Greez didn’t want to risk taking off in the storm,” she said. “We’re well hidden out here. The Empire won’t find us until the weather improves, at which point we’ll be gone. Does it matter?”

Cal shook his head. “I can still hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Ilum. The kyber. It’s not as loud now, but in the caves it sounded so sad,” he said, looking up at Cere. “It knows the Jedi are gone.”

“I’m not surprised. The Jedi have been coming here for millennia and had a strong connection to the caves. Their absence was surely felt as soon as the purge happened.”

“It’s in pain too. The Empire are mining the crystals.”

BD chimed in, telling Cere about the crates they’d found and the canyon that had opened up on the surface. “They’re destroying the planet,” she said, horrified.

“I think the kyber knew that I was probably going to be the last Jedi to come here. Even if we rebuild the Order, there’s no way we could bring younglings here. Not with the Empire crawling all over the place.”

Cere’s expression was tight, her lips pulled into a thin line. “Is it hurting you? We can probably convince Greez to leave now if it’s too much,” she said eventually.

“We’re too far away from the caves now. It more of just a feeling in the back of my mind.”

“If you’re sure.”

He nodded, finishing off his tea. The mug still held residual warmth which he greedily clung to.

“Do you want Greez to make you some more?” she asked, easily changing the subject.

“I’m just tired,” he said. Keeping his eyes open was becoming a struggle. He still shivered, but the severity of his shaking had lessened significantly.

“You’re safe now,” she said, tightening her arms around him and guiding his head to rest against her shoulder. He didn’t fight the pull of sleep this time, felling safe and warm.

When Cal next woke he felt far more like himself. They had left Ilum behind, the storm having cleared while he was out. He almost missed its presence in his mind, the gap making room for more voices who were also much more awake and present. He had a headache, but he wasn’t sure if it was caused by almost freezing to death or the sheer number of echoes he’d witnessed. He was honest with Cere when she asked him how he was feeling and he took a painkiller on her insistence, just in case it was something that could be helped.

She then directed him towards the shower. The hot water should chase away any lingering cold. She was right of course, the deep chill in his bones finally thawing. The clothes he’d been wearing were sitting in a neat pile on his bed, clean and dry. While they were the warmest he had, he opted for comfort over practicality, putting on a loose fitting shirt and trousers.

He contemplated adding a poncho too but none of them were really thick enough for what he wanted. Instead he grabbed his blanket from his bed and wrapped it around himself. It was possibly the only one that had been left out of the mountain that had been piled on him earlier. Cal wasn’t sure why, but at least it meant he had something to hand now.

“Hey BD, where’s my lightsaber,” he asked, realising he hadn’t seen it since before he passed out. Surely it hadn’t been left behind after everything he’d gone through to get it. Thankfully not as BD directed him to the workbench at the back of the room. Cere had left it there while he was in the shower.

He grabbed his headphones and sat down at the workbench, turning the volume lower than usual. The voices were calm at the moment with no need to drown them out. He just liked the background noise. For the most part the music chips he’d picked up had been decent and had worked fine with a bit of cleaning. Only one of them was beyond repair, but the parts that had worked had sounded like some kind of ambient landscape sounds, so it was no great loss.

Considering the conditions under which he’d built his lightsaber, he’d done a pretty decent job. He separated the two halves to get a better look at what he’d done. The connection was a little too tight now that it was no longer freezing, the metal having expanded. It took a significant amount of effort and a little oil to get them separated again. He’d have to adjust that. It would do no good if he went to separate them in a fight only for them to stick.

The makeshift connector had been cobbled together from various bits of scrap he’d been carrying. Taking a closer look at it now, he was quickly coming to the conclusion that it might just be better to start again from scratch. The welding was shoddy and would surely come apart with a few well-placed blows.

Pulling out the box of larger scraps from under the workbench, he got to work. With his lightsaber in front of him, it was much easier to come up with a design he liked. He wanted to honour the history of both hilts, the two Jedi Masters who had shaped him into who he was now. He left both emitters alone aside from adjusting the focusing lenses.

The grip however needed work. Cere’s half was fine, wrapped in leather. It was clear it had been taken good care of, despite not having been used in many years. She didn’t seem the type to simply toss it in a box and forget about it; that was more Cal’s style. Tapal’s half was peeling away however, the rubber coming loose now that it had been cut. The warped and twisted end had been the only thing keeping it in place, but now that was gone it was practically disintegrating.

Cal tore it the rest of the way off to be dealt with later. For now, he wanted to refine the connector. He pulled out various bits and pieces, working out how best to construct what he needed before assembling it. When he was finally satisfied, he cut off the makeshift one he’d constructed in the caves and attached the new one to both ends.

Satisfied it was going to hold, he gave it an experimental twist and the two halves came free easily. BD gave an excited beep and did a little dance on the bench beside him. Cal couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face, proud of his work.

Cere chose that moment to knock on his door. He only knew it was Cere by virtue of the fact that Greez rarely remembered to knock first and just barged in. Luckily by now Cal had learnt to make sure the door was locked when he didn’t want to be disturbed.

“Come in,” he called, setting the two halves down and pulling off his headphones.

“I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright. Not still cold I hope?”

“I’m okay now.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Greez has been stress baking so there’s cookies if you want some. Though he might make you have one anyway.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he laughed.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, her eyes flicking to the workbench.

“Do you want to see it?” he asked, picking up the hilt that had once been hers.

“If I may,” she said stepping into the room.

He held it out for her to take, which she did, igniting the blade. She held it up, admiring both the colour and the modifications he’d made. For a split second Cal could see her as a true Jedi Master, a defender of the Republic, just as Master Tapal had been.

“I thought you’d used this to repair Master Tapal’s hilt,” she remarked.

“Change of plan,” he said with a shrug, picking up the other half and igniting that too. He watched with amusement as Cere’s eyes went wide.

“You found two crystals?” she asked, extinguishing the blade and handing it back. He extinguished the other and held the two apart for now.

“Not exactly. I found one but when I picked it up, it split in two. I thought I’d failed but BD reminded me that failure is just a part of the path.” Cere looked over to the little droid, still perched on the workbench, and gave him a grateful nod.

“Since I had two crystals and two hilts, I thought ‘why not use both?’ So here we are.” With that he demonstrated the new connector, sliding the two halves back together easily until they locked in place, holding the single piece out for Cere to inspect. “It’s not quite done yet, but it’s most of the way there,” he explained as she picked it up once more.

“It’s certainly unconventional,” she said. “Much like its creator. You’ve done well today Cal. You should be proud of yourself.”

They stopped briefly at a small spaceport in a remote planet on their way back to Dathomir, needing to refuel and restock. While it was nowhere near as cold as Ilum, Cal didn’t particularly want to venture out into the cold rain awaiting them outside. It wasn’t like he could explore here anyway, nor did he have any credits left to spend.

Instead, he spent his downtime sketching up schematics for upgrading BD. Some were functional, others purely cosmetic. For fun he also let BD describe outrageous designs and did his best to draw them up, only for the pair of them to laugh at how ridiculous they looked. That was how Cere and Greez found them when they returned a couple of hours later, arms full of supplies.

“What are you two laughing about?” Greez asked as he made his way up to the galley. Cal tried to pick up the drawing he’d made of BD with fluffy, pink hair, only for said droid to stamp on it. Cal didn’t put up much of a fight, collapsing in another fit of giggles on the table.

It took him another couple of minutes to calm down, wiping away joyful tears on his sleeve. “You get everything you needed?” he asked, struggling to maintain his composure against the mental image of BD running around with a head covered in pink fluff.

“Most of it,” Cere said, side eying Greez.

“Can you believe no one on this planet sells scazz steaks,” he said, throwing two hands up in the air as he put away the groceries. “I knew we should’ve waited until we reached the next station. Those places always have everything.”

“You were the one who insisted we stop here or else we’d run out of fuel,” Cere pointed out, putting things away far more calmly.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked.

Greez glanced over at Cere just a little too fast but said nothing, turning back to the groceries just as quickly. Cere didn’t react, her expression remaining carefully neutral. A little too neutral if Cal was being honest. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Greez said, again too quickly.

Cal narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re hiding something. Is it bad?” They’d planned on spending the night here since they’d had to pay twelve hours in advance for their berth. If the Empire had somehow tracked them here then they’d have to leave soon.

Cere gave Greez a withering glare. “What?” he squawked, holding all four hands up in surrender.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Cere said with a sigh, turning back to Cal. “Wait until we’ve put this away. It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

Cal turned back to BD and shrugged, almost losing it again when he caught sight of his drawing. He buried it under the other sheets of paper, leaving the more sensible schematics on top of the pile. Once the others finished putting everything away, they both joined him down in the lounge. Greez tried to take a peek at the sheets of flimsi as he moved to sit beside Cal, only to find boring schematics for upping BD voltage capacity, theoretically allowing him to overcharge generators.

Cere sat on his other side, effectively boxing him in. Cal wasn’t sure he liked it, but Cere had promised it was nothing bad. She put a small box on the table and slid it over to him. “I wanted to wait until later, but there’s no reason you can’t have this now.”

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

He picked up the box and took off the lid. Cal couldn’t believe his eyes. Inside sat a pair of headphones, shiny and new. He didn’t know what to do with himself, almost putting the lid back on the box. “Where did you find them?” he asked, incredulous.

“There was a merchant who deals with electronics,” Cere said. “I asked if they had any new ones, and this was the best they had so I hope there aren’t any echoes on it.”

“Thank you,” he said, looking back down at the box resting in his lap. He couldn’t sense any echoes on them so tentatively he picked them up. They were fancier than the ones Prauf had given him, not that that was a hard feat. These ones had a much sturdier frame, painted green, and came with padding over the speakers. “How did you afford them?”

“They didn’t cost that much,” she shrugged. “I know everything must have been expensive on Bracca, but we have more than enough credits for something like this. Besides, you deserve to have ones that actually work. Not that I expect you to get rid of your old ones. I know they mean a lot to you.”

Cal didn’t trust himself to speak so only nodded, his gaze fixed on the headphones. “Do you like them?” Greez asked.

“I… Yeah, I do,” he said. Greez patted him on the back, only slightly awkward but with a smile on his face.

Thankfully they left him alone not long after, possibly sensing he needed a couple of minutes alone. He hastily gathered up the pile of flimsi and headed to his room. He tossed his drawings on the workbench, picking up his old, battered headphones and went to sit on his bed.

Cere had been right about him not wanting to get rid of the old ones. They were far too sentimentally valuable to simply throw away, even if they barely worked. They were the only thing he had left of Prauf and all his kindness.

Part of him felt like it was some kind of betrayal, like he was replacing Prauf in some way. It was a ridiculous idea. Prauf could never be replaced, and certainly not by a pair of headphones. If he could hear what Cal was thinking he’d tell him as much. But that didn’t stop him from thinking it.

He picked up the new pair, green paint shining in the light. Cere hadn’t been kidding about trying to buy them new. There was only a faint scratch in the paint indicating they’d had a previous owner but otherwise they may as well have come straight from the factory. BD beeped at him when he hesitated to put them on. “I’m alright. Just… processing I guess.”

BD asked then if he really did like them. “I do. I just wasn’t expecting it.” He turned the new headphones over in his hands idly. “I miss Prauf. He got me those ones to help with the voices. He didn’t know what caused them, but everyone else thought I was crazy. He was the only one who actually cared enough to try to help. He… he gave his life so I could escape the Inquisitors back on Bracca. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, his eyes prickling with tears. Between the voices going haywire and adjusting to the mission and life on the Mantis, he’d had neither the time nor mental space to really process that night. Prauf had promised to keep his secret safe, had barely hesitated before standing up to the Second Sister so that Cal might have a chance to escape and had paid the ultimate price for it.

Cal wanted nothing more than to thank him and to show him what he was doing with his life now. He’d escaped Bracca and found his destiny, a new purpose, beyond stripping the empty shells of his former life for parts to sell.

He took a deep breath. He was a Jedi. They weren’t supposed to be possessive. He would always carry Prauf with him, he didn’t need a physical reminder all the time. He set the new pair it on the bed beside him. He then slid the music chip out of the old pair and slotted it in the new ones. Reverently, as though he was holding a tiny, fragile body he was laying to rest, he lay the old pair on the box and replaced the lid. He would keep them as a reminder, but the real memories would always live in Cal’s head.

He picked the new ones back up and slipped them over his ears. They were so much more comfortable, not too tight and with enough padding that the frame didn’t dig into his head at all. He’d gotten by with the old ones by regluing the same chunks of foam directly over the speakers whenever it started to peel away. This was luxury by comparison. Cal knew Prauf had done the best he could. Options were limited on Bracca, and he’d likely spent about a month’s worth of rent on them.

He hit the play button and let the music wash over him. He’d happened to be listening to the one chip he still had from Bracca earlier, songs so familiar he could sing them in his sleep. Now he was listening to them with a whole new depth. The bass didn’t cut out when it went too low, the treble clear and bright.

He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, overcome by the weight of his emotions, both sad and happy. He would always miss Prauf, but now he had a new family who cared enough about him to buy him new headphones despite never having mentioned it to them.

He lay on his bed, BD resting on his chest, and simply listened.

Chapter Text

Cal was ready for Dathomir this time. He knew what he would face, and he knew what he had to do to overcome it. It didn’t help his anxiety, but he’d spent the final approach meditating, trying to calm both his nerves and the voices. As before, they became more unsettled the closer they got to the red planet, that familiar pit of dread sitting in his stomach.

He made his way out to the common area once they landed, the ship gently rocking as it settled on the landing gear. “How are you doing?” Cere asked.

“I’m ready. Or, as ready as I’ll ever be,” he shrugged.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

He filled his water bottle at the sink before turning back to her. “Do you…  think you’ll ever be ready to face Trilla?”

“No,” she said. “But you have your path as I have mine.”

“You know I’ll be there for you if you need me.”

She smiled softly at him. “I know.”

Checking he had everything he needed, he opened the door and stepped out into the red sunlight. He took a moment to collect himself outside, slipping into a semi-meditative state before he reached the village with its myriad echoes.

Beneath the pain and horror, there was a profound sense of loss here. It wasn’t too dissimilar from what he’d felt on Ilum. This place knew its people were gone and would never return. The Nightsister may want to see him dead, but they were far more similar than she realised.

He made it maybe half way through the village before the Force began to pull him away from the path. It was only a gentle tug, hazy through the lid he’d put in place. But it was strong enough to be noticeable nonetheless. Sensing no danger nearby and under no particular time pressure, he wandered towards it. BD asked where he was going.

“There’s an echo here,” he said as he made his way over to it. “I just want to take a look.” BD asked if that was a good idea. “I know what I’m doing. If it’s too strong, I’ll leave it. But I can’t keep avoiding bad echoes or else I’ll never learn to control them when I have no choice.”

He found the echo just inside the decaying remains of a house, large enough that it covered the entire floor. All he’d have to do was step into it. He wasn’t foolish enough to do that without preparing himself first. He held his hand out, letting the echo curl around his fingers without pulling him all the way in. He found the expected negative emotions, traces of horror and grief and pain.

He was fairly certain he could handle it, and if not he could just head back to the Mantis and wait the inevitable migraine out. While he would like to be able to return triumphant, he wasn’t above admitting he’d been foolish. Cere would understand. He stepped inside and reality melted away.

The sky was burning, filled with smoke and streaked with fire. It was hard to breathe, ash and the screams of her sisters filling the air. Another blast lit up the village, a flash of blinding white and a deafening bang. Her ears rang but she had to push on and find her daughter.

Where was she?

She’s said she was going with the other girls to the swamp, but she should’ve been on her way back. Was she still out there or was she caught in the destruction. Did she know to stay away?

She passed the countless bodies of her sisters. There was nothing she could do for them, already gone, buried under rubble. Others around her tried to fight back, throwing up shields of magick, but there was so little they could do. Their foes cowered in the sky high above, out of range of their weapons and fire.

“Mama!” came a shrill cry.

She whipped around to find her daughter pinned beneath the rubble, covered in ash and blood. “It’s alright. I’m here now,” she said, rushing to her side. She called upon her magick, lifting the rubble free. Her daughter screamed as the pressure was lifted from her tiny body, but she didn’t drop it until she’d moved it clear.

Her daughter wasn’t the only one here, but she was the only one alive. She didn’t know which of her friends lay still at her daughter’s side, face down in the rubble. There was no time to find out. She scooped her daughter into her arms and began running.

“Mama, it hurts,” she whimpered, limp in her arms. Hot blood seeped through her clothes. She had to risk stopping and heal what she could. She ducked inside the nearest house, empty of its occupants, and lay her beloved daughter on the ground.

There was so much blood, she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. She reached out with her magick, willing it to heal. It took all her power, but it wasn’t enough. Her daughter was slipping away, her spirit fading. “Hold on my love,” she cried.

“I’m scared,” her daughter whimpered, her voice fading.

With dawning horror, she realised she wouldn’t be able to save her. Her wounds were too great, her power too weak. She severed the magick and gathered her daughter into her arms. “It’s alright, my love. Mama’s here.”

She knelt on the ground, her baby cradled in her arms, murmuring reassurances into her hair as she slipped away.

Another bang, a flash of heat.

Her daughter was gone, taken from her far too soon by the cowards hiding in their ships. She gently lay the tiny, still body on the ground with a silent promise to return. She got to her feet, rage and grief fuelling her powers, green fire gathering around her. She may not have been able to save the one she loved the most, but she could make the ones who took her pay.

Cal’s back hit the wall, sliding down the wall to sit, his legs unable to hold him. Grief clawed at his chest, a gaping void where his heart should’ve been.

Not his grief, he reminded himself. It was the echo. Both the little girl and her mother were long gone. The sky was clear, the air was quiet. What happened here was beyond tragic, but it was not his burden to bear.

He calmed his breathing, reaching out to the Force to steady himself. It wasn’t as settled as he usually found it, but he put that down to the face he was sitting in the middle of a genocide. BD hopped up on his leg, nudging Cal with his head. “I’m alright,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and wiped his face on his sleeve, unsurprised to find he’d been crying. “I’m okay.”

With a deep breath, he got to his feet and shook off the worst of the echo. There was no sign of either the girl’s body or her mother in here. Either the Nightsister had buried her, or some animal had come along and taken care of the bodies. He hoped it was the former.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. It was harder to slip into that semi-meditative state this time, the Force too unsettled, the voices begging him to seek out the others. That really wasn’t a good idea, but he’d managed to weather the worst of that echo and had come out mostly unscathed. He didn’t want to push his luck though, so he grit his teeth and trekked the rest of the way through the village without stopping.

There was no sign of the Nightsister when he reached the temple, passing through without incident. Similarly, there was no sign of either the Nightbrothers or the man who led them. It was like the whole place was abandoned. Cal doubted the Nightbrothers were completely gone, but if Malicos had been killed by the undead then perhaps the Nightsister had called them off. If that was the case then she was surely watching him, waiting for her chance at misplaced revenge.

He kept his senses alert, ready to grab his lightsaber at a moment’s notice as he crossed the bridge but still there was no sign of resistance. “This seem a little too easy to you?” he asked BD as he climbed up the last crumbling remnant to reach the tomb. BD buzzed his agreement; nothing ever went this smoothly for them.

Cal was having a hard time ignoring the voices by now, spewing vitriol. This time, there was no doubt in his mind that they were simply a manifestation of the darkness lurking within the tomb, leeching out and corrupting whatever it could find. Malicos was a prime example of that, a fallen Jedi twisted by the power promised by the dark side. This was no different, except Cal was strong enough to resist.

Despite the fear creeping up his spine and the shouting in his head he made his way up the steps to the door. The chamber appeared unchanged, the door at the far end sealed, radiating malice. He swallowed his fear and stepped inside.

“You can’t win.”

“You’re weak.”

“You were always destined to lose.”

Cal did his best to ignore their hateful words, lacking the concentration to actively supress them.

“You know you killed your master.”

“His blood is on your hands.”

They were nothing but a twisted manifestation of the Force.

“You’re unfit to call yourself a Jedi!”

The closer he got to the door, the louder and more jumbled the words became. Cal wished it was a relief, but dread only grew, the shrieking in his head incomprehensible but painful nonetheless.

Finally, he stood before the door, looming above him. He knelt before it, doing his best to calm his mind and wrap himself in the familiar embrace of the Force.

The voices fell silent.

There was no flashback this time, the memory already fresh in his mind. He opened his eyes to see the same endless void, shrouded in fog. It swirled before coalescing into the familiar form of Master Tapal, the door impossibly large behind him. Cal stood to meet him, holding his head high.

“You were wrong to return here unarmed,” the apparition said.

“Not unarmed,” Cal said, unclipping his new lightsaber from his belt.

“You think that lightsaber proves you a Jedi?” he spat.

“No,” he said, not letting the vision of his master intimidate him. “Facing you… Memories that have haunted me since Bracca. I won’t run from them anymore.”

Master Tapal stared at him for a moment; his expression impassive. “Then let us see what manner of death your courage brings.” He reached for his lightsaber, igniting it and assuming a fighting stance.

Cal likewise ignited his own blade, holding it in both hands ready for an incoming strike. Master Tapal lunged forward, slashing at his front. Cal blocked it easily enough, pushing back against Tapal’s blade. Tapal wasted no time between blows, striking at Cal’s exposed back. Cal was ready for this too, knocking his blade aside to pass harmlessly through the air.

Cal went in for his own attacks but just like the last time, Tapal effortlessly blocked him before retaliating. The strikes came quickly so Cal ignited the second blade, giving him a better chance of blocking. If Tapal was surprised, he didn’t show it.

They traded blows a few more times but it was clear there was going to be no clear winner here. Cal had to end this somehow, but killing Tapal wasn’t the answer.

“Show me what you are truly capable of!” he roared as he pushed Cal back.

With a twist of the hilts, Cal separated the twin blades, striking at Tapal with them separately. It still wasn’t enough to land a blow, but it caught the Lasat off guard, sending him stumbling back. “Impressive,” he said, whirling his lightsaber around, “but is power the answer?”

“No.”

Cal relaxed his stance and extinguished both blades, reattaching the hilts and clipping it back onto his bet. Tapal snarled and came charging at Cal once more. He didn’t move, simply watching as the apparition of his former master brought his lightsaber up for an overhead strike. Nor did he flinch as the blade came down, stopping mere centimeters from his head. The heat of the blade seared skin, but he knew he was safe. None of this was real. Lashing out would get him nowhere. He’d come to make peace with his past, not fight it back into submission.

“Master,” he said calmly, looking up at Tapal. “I will never forget. The loss has become a part of me. I will honour your teaching. And your sacrifice.”

Tapal finally broke from his fighting stance, standing up straight and lowering his weapon. He regarded Cal for a moment before turning to walk back into the fog in the direction of the door. “Remember,” he said, his voice echoing from all sides. “Persistence reveals the path.” As the door opened and Tapal walked through, the fog engulfed everything in sight, the void melting away.

Cal came back to reality with a sigh of relief. The shouting in his head had mostly stopped now, having passed the tomb’s test. The darkness remained oppressive, but it no longer tore at him, sinking its claws deep to rip him apart.

The door now stood open before him, darkness radiating out like a bleeding wound. There was no way forward but through, so he got to his feet and went inside. The tomb, much like the others he’d visited so far, was vast in scale. That was about the only similarity, however. Whereas the others had been constructed primarily of stone and gold, making use of natural elements, this one had clearly been carved from the rock by hand, all rough, unfinished edges. Red light spewed from the chasm ahead, illuminating the walls in sharp relief.

Something had been carved into the pillars, but Cal didn’t get a good enough look at them to tell what before the Force prickled in warning.

“She’s here.”

Cal grabbed his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. He kept his head on a swivel, looking for the Nightsister but finding no sign of her.

“You chose to return,” she said, her voice reverberating in the vast space. “Brave…” A whoosh from the way Cal had come told him where she was. Green fire flared, forming the shape of a person before flickering out. “But not wise,” she said, striding from the flames before coming to a stop a couple of meters away.

She was no longer dressed in her robes and finery, instead wearing something more casual. With her hood gone, he could see she wore her long, silver hair in a bun. They stared each other down for several tense seconds, both waiting for the other to act first.

“She’s like you.”

“Maybe,” he said to answer both her and the voice. Hoping he wasn’t about to regret this decision, he raised his lightsaber and made a show of turning it off. “Merrin, right? I’m Cal Kestis. What you were told about the Jedi was not true.”

“So you say… Cal.” It was clear she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t seem like she was about to attack him, so he took a couple of cautious steps toward her. “Malicos said many things too.”

“Taron Malicos might have been a part of my Order, but what he is now, I… I have no idea. All I do know is that having a lightsaber isn’t what makes you a Jedi.” He looked down at his own, the weapon currently inert.

“Show me I can trust you.”

He tossed it the short distance through the air to Merrin who caught it effortlessly. She regarded it in her hand, turning it over before raising an eyebrow at him. “Then what does?”

“We were peace keepers.” That was what the Jedi had been for millennia, bringing peace and balance to the galaxy. But Cal had never really known that in his lifetime, only stories from times long since passed. The war had warped them, turned their masters into generals, their children into commanders. They had tried to remain true to their core tenets, but they had been spread too thin. People across the galaxy had started to lose hope in them, even before the purge because they simply couldn’t be on every planet who needed them.

“We were betrayed by those we protected. Hunted down by the Empire. I might be one of the last of my kind.”

Merrin watched him carefully, looking between him and the lightsaber. She activated it, bringing it up to study its light. “I was only a child when they attacked,” she said solemnly. “An armoured warrior brandishing this descended upon us and cut down my people. My sisters. Until I was left alone. With the dead.”

For a moment she seemed lost, untethered as her mind sent her back to that time and place. Cal suspected it would be unwise to tell her that he had seen it himself in the echoes he’d found, but even without them, he knew how she must have felt.

“Then Malicos came,” she said with renewed fire, “and promised me revenge if I shared our secrets with him in return.”

BD chose that moment to make a sarcastic comment. Hoping she didn’t know binary, Cal ignored him. “I know what it’s like to lose everything. And Malicos was wrong to use that against you. We don’t have to be enemies.”

She powered down his lightsaber, scrutinising him. If she was looking for any sign he was lying, she wouldn’t find one. He didn’t want to fight her. Seemingly coming to a conclusion, she tossed the lightsaber back to him. “You will need this.”

Before he could so much as open his mouth she disappeared in another flash of green. “There she goes again,” he muttered to BD as he clipped it back on to his belt.

“I’ll be watching,” her voice echoed.

“Come on,” he sighed. While she may no longer pose a threat, he still didn’t want to hang around this tomb any longer than he had to. The Force remained unsettled around him, but there was no imminent sign of danger. He meandered towards the walls, covered in faint echoes.

The shapes carved into the pillars resolved themselves into people. Zeffonians, clawing their way up, scrambling over each other in what looked like a desperate bid to escape. Cal lay his hand on the stone and found pain, suffering fear. When would the torment end? There was no rest. The foundations were built atop the bones of their brethren. Those who died became part of the tomb. Kujet’s power and cruelty knew no bounds. He would be their downfall.

Cal staggered back, shaking his hand as though he’d been burnt. The previous sages, Eilram and Miktrul, had been benevolent. Their tombs had been constructed as places of honour, to commemorate their leadership. This tomb was not the same. It had been built as a reminder of Kujet’s power, more akin to a prison or palace. Kujet had tapped in to the dark side, had let it corrupt him and led the Zeffonians astray.

“Did Cordova ever find out what happened to them?” Cal asked BD, staring up at the climbing figures. BD took a couple of seconds as he scanned through his now restored memory bank before finding an answer. According to Cordova the Zeffonian civilisation collapsed after Kujet’s rule ended. The sage had led them down a path from which they could not return. Those who survived fled into the unknown regions. Cordova had intended to follow them, to search for any sign they still lived. BD had of course remained behind on Bogano so had no idea if he had succeeded.

“Maybe he’s still out there, somewhere far away where the purge hasn’t reached,” he said wistfully. It was unlikely considering the years that had passed. Cordova must have tried to return at some point, either having found what he was looking for or conceding defeat and returned to the Temple on Coruscant. Still, Cal allowed himself this little fantasy, that this man that he’d never met but felt deeply connected to was still out there somewhere.

“Come on,” he said, mostly to himself, “the Astrium won’t be much further.” A red shaft of light illuminated the far end of the tomb, beckoning Cal closer. That was where the Astrium must be. The only thing separating him from it now was the chasm and Malicos, standing in the centre of the tomb.

Cal had no idea how he’d managed to get over there considering the gap where the floor had fallen away, far too large to jump, even with the aid of the Force. Cal was about to start looking for a way to somehow climb over when a chunk of rock lifted into the air, held up by green magick.

Merrin, wherever she was, said nothing, but Cal chose to trust her. If she still wanted him dead, she would have tried to strike him down when she still held his lightsaber. He stepped onto the chunk of stone, bobbing slightly with his added weight. It didn’t plummet into the abyss though, which he took as a good sign.

More stone rose from below, creating a path to Malicos. He doubtless already knew Cal was here and was simply waiting for him. Still, he turned and greeted Cal with mild surprise. “Welcome home,” he said with open arms. “Here to being your training? What in these ruins tempts you so much? To risk death?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. From the corner of his eye, he saw Merrin materialise on a nearby pillar above. Malicos, too preoccupied by Cal, failed to notice her.

“There’s power there, beyond Jedi understanding.” Cal couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He began to pace around Malicos as he continued to preach. “Power I control. I would offer you the same thing.”

“I’m not interested in power. I want to restore the Order.”

“Restore the Jedi Order?” he said, as though Cal had lost his mind. “Oh, you poor fool. It’s over! The Jedi fell long before the purge. Stifled by tradition. Deafened by our past glories. Blinded by endless war.”

“Maybe, but it’s never over Malicos. We stand here, now, with a chance to learn. To rebuild from our mistakes.”

“Jedi? Learn?” he sneered. “There’s no future for them. How can you not see that?” He was glaring at Cal now, trying to make him back down. Cal held eye contact, standing his ground.

“He’s lost.”

“It’s time for something new,” Malicos said when it was clear Cal wasn’t giving in so easily. “We could build something different.” He took a couple of steps towards Cal, gesturing between the two of them. “Something better.”

Cal shook his head. “No.”

He could see the instant Malicos was overcome by rage, his expression turning to one of anger and hatred. “Then Dathomir will be your grave.” He held his arms out, summoning his twin blades from his belt. The blades bled a horrible red.

“Get back!” the voices cried before Cal could even reach for his own weapon. He barely dodged out of the way as Malicos came lunging at him, both of his blades missing their mark by a narrow margin. Cal had his own lightsaber ignited when Malicos came at him again. He parried, shoving aside Malicos’ blades and trying to land a blow across his chest, only for him to spin out of the way.

Cal knew he was at a disadvantage here. Malicos had decades of experience on him and had spent the last five years proving himself against the Nightbrothers. Brute force wasn’t going to get him through this one. He had to be clever.

Malicos came at him with a flurry of blows. It was all Cal could do to activate the second blade and hold his defence. Only when Malicos stopped to switch his stance did Cal try to strike back. He swung his blade around, aiming for Malicos’ neck, only for the former Jedi to dodge. Cal didn’t let up, separating his blades and attacking with all his might.

Malicos parried, shrugging Cal off and sending him tumbling with a shove from the Force. Cal scrambled to his feet, trying to maintain the distance between them as Malicos advanced.

“Don’t fall.”

Cal spared a quick glance behind him, only to find he’d backed himself up against the edge of the platform, the chasm yawning black below. He tried to turn Malicos’ tricks against him and shove him further away, but he weathered the blow, using the Force to anchor himself to the ground. He then threw one of his lightsabers at Cal, orbiting it around him while attacking him head on. Cal kept his blades separate, blocking Malicos with one while keeping the other free to fend of the circling blade.

“Now!”

He brought his blade up across his back, swiping the lightsaber away harmlessly. Malicos brought it back to his hand and renewed his efforts to strike Cal down with an ugly snarl. They traded blows several times over, neither able to land a strike. The hum of their blades filled the air, sparks flying when they met, a blur of motion.

Cal brought his blade down in an overhead strike, only for Malicos to catch it between his. He shoved Cal back, swinging for his head. Cal ducked, spinning around. Before he could do anything else, he was gripped by the Force and lifted off the ground.

“I was wrong to think you could stand with me,” Malicos growled, his hand held up as he lifted Cal higher. He clenched his fist and brought it down sharply. Cal’s back slammed into the ground, barely able to use the Force to cushion the blow. The air was driven from his lungs, blinding pain exploding in his back.

Even if he was able to coordinate his body, he was glued to the floor, unable to get up. Stone cracked, a large chunk floating over him. If Malicos dropped it on him, he was as good as dead.

“Get up! Move!”

Try as he might, Cal couldn’t do anything. His limbs were stuck to the ground, his body pulled down by Malicos’ rage. “Die whelp!” he screamed.

Blinding green light exploded above him, raining down small shards of rock. He’d surely have several bruises, but they were no longer large enough to cause serious injury. Released form the Force’s grip, he struggled to sit up.

“You have no right to Dathomir!” Merrin called out, now standing atop a different pillar. “No right to our magick!” She threw bursts of green fire at Malicos in rapid succession. It wasn’t enough though as he parried them away like flies. He threw his lightsaber, forcing Cal to duck as it sailed over his head to strike the pillar. Malicos pulled it down with the Force, the stone crumbling.

Merrin managed to keep her footing, jumping at the last minute to land gracefully beside Cal. “Get up Cal Kestis. You are not dead yet,” she said before disappearing.

Now that Malicos was no longer holding him down, he scrambled to his feet, calling his lightsaber back to his hand. BD climbed back onto his shoulder, offering a stim. “Hold on to it for now,” he said under his breath.

As before, Malicos attacked with such ferocity Cal had a hard time keeping him at bay. He was beginning to fatigue, less able to withstand the relentless blows while Malicos seemingly had an infinite well of energy. Cal was getting sloppy, the tip of a lightsaber scoring a mark across his arm when he was too slow to get out of the way. He wouldn’t last much longer. He had to give his all.

With a cry, Cal went on the offensive, doing his best to match Malicos blow for blow. It was much harder work as he still had to keep his defences up, but thanks to his unorthodox techniques he managed to keep Malicos off-guard, unable to determine Cal’s next move.

He brought his blade down on Malicos’ head, red blades blocking him. Cal called on the Force, giving him the strength to resist Malicos and break his defences. He pushed him back and struck across his chest, searing a line in his flesh.

Malicos stumbled back, dropping to one knee and bringing a hand to the wound. Before he could get back up, Merrin appeared once more, magick swirling around her. As Malicos brought his hand up to push the two of them away, she froze him in place, green flame locking his limbs.

“What is this!” he demanded as she bound him, forcing his arms across his chest.

“It is as you said Malicos,” she said with the fury of all her sisters. “Dathomir will be your grave.” Her eyes blazed as the ground opened up to swallow him. He raged as he sank below the surface, struggling against the magick binding him. It made no difference. With a flash, the stone was once again whole, Malicos forever entombed within.

“Let him lie in the dark with his secrets until death takes him,” Merrin said as her magick faded away.

Breathing hard, Cal came to stand beside her. “Why’d you help me?”

“To rid Dathomir of that parasite,” she spat.

Cal left her to glare at the ground, giving himself a quick once over. His head and back hurt from where he’d been slammed into the ground, but he didn’t think the impact had been hard enough to give him a concussion since he wasn’t dizzy or nauseous. He touched the back of his head, hissing at the lump that was forming but relieved to find he wasn’t bleeding. His arm burned where Malicos had managed to catch him. Thank the stars it was only a graze, but it easily could have been so much worse.

BD offered a stim again and this time Cal accepted it gratefully, snatching it from the air and injecting it into his shoulder. The painkillers got to work immediately, flooding his system and soothing the worst of the pain away to a more manageable level. His heart still raced with the added adrenaline, but that was a side effect he could deal with.

“What are you really doing here, Cal Kestis?” Merrin asked, turning her attention him. For a moment he was worried she might turn on him and try to put him in the ground too, but there was genuine curiosity in the question.

“The ones who built this tomb, the Zeffo, they created an object called the Astrium. It opens a vault on a distant planet.” He clipped his lightsaber to his belt, hoping nothing else in this tomb would try to kill him. “inside is a list of Force-sensitive children across the galaxy, but the Empire is looking for it too.”

“What Empire?” she asked.

He’d expected her to have questions, but that was not one of them. “The Empire. The one bent on exterminating Force-sensitives so no one can stand against it?”

“Then it will come for Dathomir before long, as the war did,” she said solemnly. “I will help you find this Astrium.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. And, uh, thanks for helping me with Malicos,” he said as they began to walk across the platform towards the red light he’d seen earlier. “Thought I was a goner for a minute.”

“Yes, you would have died.” Her delivery was so flat that Cal wasn’t sure if she was trying to make a joke or simply stating fact.

“Right…”

“I’m glad you didn’t. It is nice to have an ally.” She sounded a little more upbeat this time, making the effort to put him at ease. He probably shouldn’t be too surprised that her social skills were a little rusty if she’d only had the likes of Malicos and the Nightbrothers for company for the past five or so years.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that,” he said, offering her a small smile.

 At the edge of the platform, it became clear the way to the Astrium was blocked. As before, whatever walkway had once existed had fallen into the chasm below. Before he could even ask, Merrin was already raising blocks of stone from the depths, holding them in place with her magick. “Go on,” she said when he hesitated.

As he walked, she raised more to form a path. He looked back to check if she was following only for her to have disappeared. An amused chuckle from above gave her location away, sitting high up on a ledge. Of course, she could just teleport herself wherever she needed to go. “Do you intend to take all day, Cal Kestis?” she asked lightly.

Right, he had a job to do. The Astrium was close now, he could feel it. Merrin flitted along the edge of the tomb, raising the path for Cal as needed until he finally landed on solid ground. The red light was near blinding now, streaming down from the moon above. He made his way through the narrow passage to the far side.

Merrin materialised just behind him as he approached the gigantic relief of Kujet carved into the furthest wall. In his hands lay the Astrium, glinting in the light. It appeared to be locked in place, but there was surely a way to retrieve it. He reached out with the Force, examining its nooks and crannies for a solution.

“There. Reach out and pull.”

Cal did, the ancient mechanism coming to life. The Astrium was unveiled, Kujet’s hand lowering so it was finally within reach. Cal stepped up to it, hovering his hand over it for just a second. Much to his relief, it carried no echoes so he picked it up.

“We finally found it,” he said to BD, a great rush of relief overcoming him.

“It is real,” Merrin said as he walked back towards her.

“Merrin, this could be the key to the next generation of Jedi,” he said excitedly, placing it in her hands.

She looked down at it, frowning. “I am happy for you. And your Jedi,” she said after a long moment. “But nothing can bring back my people.” She held the Astrium out for him to take, clearly wanting nothing to do with it.

In his excitement, he had forgotten that her people were gone and not so easily rebuilt. He took it from her as she turned away to leave this wretched tomb.

“Talk to her.”

“After the Purge… I was alone for a… a long time. Hiding,” he said. She paused to listen but did not turn around. “I was… I was scared, that they would find out who I was or… what I was.”

She turned her head but still did not look at him. “What changed?”

“A very good friend of mine told me to go out and find my place in the galaxy.” He wished he could show Prauf everything he’d achieved, to show that he was right to push Cal as he did. That he really was more than trash left to rot in a scrapyard.

“And you listened?”

“Well, no. But… life has this funny way of forcing you on the path forward anyway. Now here I am. Where I least expected.”

She finally turned to look at him, taking a deep breath. “A path forward,” she echoed. She visibly wrestled with her thoughts for a moment, struggling to come to a decision before nodding, striding back towards him. “I will join you,” she announced.

“You will?” he said, equal parts relieved and curious. She hadn’t exactly struck him as the type to make easy alliances, but after talking to her, leaving her here alone didn’t sit right with him.

“I’ve spent years waiting for a chance to avenge my sisters. I’m finished waiting. I wish to fight by your side. Nightsisters and Jedi do not travel together but… Survivors. We adapt.”

“Yeah,” he said with a slight smile. “Yeah, I guess we do. What do you think BD?”

BD, as he’d expected, was all for Merrin joining them, believing she would be a great addition to the crew of misfits. “I agree.” He held her hand out for her to shake, which she did without hesitation. “My crew, they might take a little bit of convincing, though,” he said as a quick after thought.

“Then we’ll convince them,” she said, ready to rise to the challenge. She turned to leave, a renewed purpose to her stride before she once again disappeared. Cal rolled his eyes but followed where she had been going. He would have to settle for the long route.

Merrin asked him about the others as he walked through the tomb. Apparently Malicos had wanted Merrin to attack them but as they posed no apparent threat Merrin had disregarded his orders. While Cere was a deadly shot with a blaster, he wasn’t sure how well she and Greez would have fared against an enraged Nightsister considering she could wake the dead.

Once Cal reached the tomb’s entrance Merrin appeared beside him once more. “I will meet you at your ship. The way through should be clear. The Nightbrothers do not come to the upper levels unless ordered to.” With that, she disappeared once more, leaving Cal and BD alone.

“That’s something I guess,” he said to empty air.

As promised, the path back towards the Mantis was clear. The village still posed the same problem as before, but now that the tomb was no longer corrupting the voices in his head, it was much easier to slip into the semi-meditative state and shove them down. If someone had told him just a few months ago that he’d be able to take control of the voices like this he would have laughed in their face and called them delusional. But now he had hope that one day he might even be free of them entirely. He just had to keep practicing, strengthening his connection with the Force.

The echoes still called to him, their pull irresistible. He’d seen enough already though. He didn’t need to soak himself in their tragedy. He carried enough already for several lifetimes.

As he crossed the final stretch to the Mantis, Merrin appeared in a green flash. “Ready?” he asked.

“I am,” she said, easily falling into step with him.

He headed up the ramp first, the door sliding open. Cere was sitting on the sofa, looking at her datapad while Greez was just coming down the steps from the galley, carrying some drinks. Upon seeing him, Cere stood up, catching Greez’s attention too. Cal held up the astrium for them to see, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“You found it,” Cere said.

“Woah, woah, who’s this?” Greez asked, more interested in Merrin than the Astrium. Cere looked up then, the pair of them watching Merrin carefully.

BD told him she was coming to help them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cal still doubted Merrin knew binary, but she was sharp enough to catch his meaning. “It means I’ll be joining you.”

“Cere, Greez, this is Merrin,” he said before either of them could protest.

“Wha- she’s a witch, isn’t she?” Greez said to Cal as though Merrin wasn’t standing right there.

“A Nightsister. Your fear is unnecessary.”

“I couldn’t have found the Astrium without her. We fought Malicos together. I trust her.”

“And we trust you,” Cere said as Greez opened his mouth again. “You,” she said, turning to Merrin, “will have to earn it.” Merrin gave her a solemn nod, understanding this wasn’t up for debate. Cere then turned to Greez who looked helplessly between them.

“Okay fine, grab some seat,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Long as she doesn’t try anything funny,” he grumbled under his breath as he headed towards the cockpit, leaving both cups on the table.

Cere followed him to assist with take-off. “Welcome aboard.”

“They like you,” Cal said once they were out of earshot, hoping to reassure Merrin. She didn’t seem convinced, but Cal was hopeful hey would all warm up to each other soon enough. He joined the others in the cockpit, leaving Merrin to take a seat by BD on the sofa.

“Welcome to the family.”

Cal didn’t bother trying to hide the smile on his face as he went through the pre-flight checks. He had a good feeling about having Merrin on board.

Chapter Text

After two days in hyperspace, things had settled once more. Cere had warmed to Merrin quickly, perhaps because they were now sharing a cabin with Merrin sleeping on the top bunk. Greez, unsurprisingly, was taking his time to get used to having the witch who had sent the undead after his ship on board. It had taken him long enough to get used to just having Cal on board, and all he’d done was talk to voices no one else could hear when he’d first arrived.

He did what he could to make Merrin feel welcome, trying to include her in conversations if she was around or answering her many questions about the galaxy. There was so much she didn’t know, and while she could access the holonet on the Mantis, she didn’t know how to read Aurebesh, not having need of it on her home planet.

He’d offered to teach her since she would need to learn sooner or later if she was going to travel with them. She’d accepted and was quickly getting the hang of it, the hard part of knowing Basic already taken care of. However, she wasn’t progressing as quickly as she’d like which was causing some tension.

“Come on Merrin, don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said as she tossed the borrowed datapad onto the table. “You were doing fine.”

“I sound like a child,” she said, crossing her arms. She’d managed to remember most of the letters but reading words aloud was proving difficult, forcing her to sound out each one individually.

“You’ve only been learning for a couple of days, and you can read it.”

“Your writing system is stupid,” she said flatly. “Why do you need two different symbols for the same sound?”

“Well why don’t you tech me how you write on Dathomir?” Cal hadn’t seen any written material while he’d been there, but he had the vague knowledge that the Nightsisters’ writing system involved using only one or two runes to convey a word or concept.

“I have better uses of my time and you do not know Dathomiri.”

“Fine, we can leave this for now. You will get there eventually.”

BD tried to offer his own encouragement, but she had no idea what he was trying to say. The Nightsisters were considered a low-technology civilisation, most of their advancements dependent on their magick. Cal would be surprised if she’d seen a droid other than the ones that had descended upon her sisters, let alone tried to talk to one. Yet another language barrier.

“He said he believes in you,” Cal translated for her.

She did not say anything to that but did give BD a terse nod of acknowledgement. The silence that hung between them was uncomfortable, neither knowing what to say to the other. Cal was drawing blanks and considered just getting up and heading to the engine room, leaving Merrin be.

“What was it like for you when you left your home?” she asked after a while.

Cal had to think for a moment, his memories of that time muddied by echoes. “I think I was excited, mostly.”

“You think?”

“I wasn’t very old when I left the Temple on Coruscant. The war had only been going on for a few months. I didn’t really understand what was going on until I’d already been there for a while and started seeing the toll it was taking on our troops. But at first it felt like an adventure.”

“You fought in the war as a child?”

Cal nodded his head from side to side. “Kind of. I was a commander but I didn’t do much fighting. It was more of a formality. Jedi Masters were given the rank of general while their Padawans became commanders. Technically I outranked most of the clones, but I never told any of them what to do.”

“Clones?”

Right, the war had only existed on the periphery for her until it ended her people. “The Republic’s army consisted mostly of clones. They all looked the same on the surface, but most of them would modify themselves in some way. Tattoos, haircuts, painting their armour. They all had names too. I could always tell them apart because they all felt different in the Force, even if I couldn’t see what they looked like. I think they liked that about us.”

“You miss them.”

He cast his gaze down at his hands in his lap, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Most of the time yes. We were a family. But they turned on the Jedi. I don’t know why, but they tried to kill me and my Master. He… didn’t make it, and I escaped with this,” he said, pointing to the dark burn scar branded across his neck.

“What about the rest of your face?”

Cal had learnt by now that Merrin didn’t intend to come across as bluntly as she did so took no offence. She could probably stand to learn some tact however, but that was a problem for another day. “Can’t remember exactly what happened, but I picked those up on Bracca. The whole planet is one giant scrap heap. I worked there, dismantling ships.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Yeah. A lot of people get hurt or die there.”

She considered his words for a moment before saying, “I am glad you left.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I used to have a… friend. Ilyana,” she began after a moment. “We used to spend all our time together, often sneaking off to the swamps to make potions.” As she spoke, her hand went to her necklace. “She gave this to me, and I promised to wear it every day. We were so close. I thought when we were older we would be together. Instead, I closed her eyes and bundled her with the others.”

Cal didn’t know what to say to that. The usual “I’m sorry for your loss” had never really brought him much comfort when he talked about losing Master Tapal and he doubted it would be any different for Merrin.

“It’s always hard, losing someone you care about so much,” he settled on eventually. “And I don’t know if it will ever get any easier to bear.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

The moment was broken when Greez came wandering by, carrying a large box. “Hey Merrin, you busy?” he said, completely oblivious to the mood surrounding them. He set the box down on the kitchen table.

“No, why?” she asked, already getting up to examine what he’d brought.

“Well since it’ll be a while before we can stop to buy you some clothes, I thought it might be worth looking through here to see if there’s anything you like. It’s all clean, I promise.”

“What is wrong with what I am wearing now?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “I just thought you might like a bit of variety is all.”

Cal had joined them in the galley by now, BD already scanning the contents of the box. It was filled with echoes, most of them weak, some of them significantly stronger. He doubted there was anything in there that either of them were interested in wearing, but Greez was right to offer. She’d been borrowing an old set of Cere’s pyjamas to sleep in but otherwise wore exactly what she had come aboard in.

She glared at the box as though it had somehow offended her before relenting and picking up whatever was lying on the top. It unrolled as she lifted it, revealing a dark blue shirt that was definitely too big for anyone on the ship. She tossed it aside and continued to rummage. Greez picked it up and folded it, starting a neat pile from whatever she discarded.

“This looks more like your style,” she said to Cal, holding up what might have been a green poncho. Before he could comment that it also looked like it had a large stain on it, she tossed it at him. He caught it instinctively, realising too late it carried an echo.

Why was it always him that had to go down to the caves? Well, he knew why. It was either him or his idiot brother now that Pa could no longer walk, and he was much less likely to get his face eaten. His flashlight was already dying because someone forgot to replace the batteries. Again. He’d have to turn back soon and call this a lost cause.

“Otru!” he shouted. “You out here?”

There was a faint scrabbling from the dark. Not large enough to pose a threat, but perhaps a warning of something coming. He swung his flickering light around but saw nothing but the empty branches of the cave.

“If you’re messing me around, I’m just gonna leave you down here.”

Still no response. His light flickered and dimmed, threatening to give up entirely. Deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, he turned to head back. He only managed two steps before something large jumped out at him, shrieking.

He threw his light at it, scrambling back only to realise it was Otru. “Dank Ferrik, what do you think you’re playing at!” he cried, grasping at his rapidly beating heart.

“Aw, come on. I was only messin’ with you,” she said, slapping him on the back with an impish smile.

Cal blinked and the caves melted away, returning him to the galley in time to see Greez having a stern word with Merrin. “We don’t throw things at Cal on this ship,” he said, pointing at her with the offending poncho bunched in his fist.

“Why not?” she asked, looking between the two of them.

“You alright kid?” he asked, ignoring her question when he noticed Cal was back in the room.

“Yeah. It wasn’t too bad.”

“One of you will tell me what just happened,” Merrin demanded. Greez gave Cal a pointed look, letting him know he was on his own on this one.

“I, uh, have this rare ability. I can experience past events connected to an object through the Force. That one was some guy getting scared by his sister in a cave.” She narrowed her eyes at him, not fully believing him. “I swear, it’s true!”

“You are telling me you can just touch something and witness the past?”

“Yes. Well, some objects. Not everything has an echo. Some things have multiple.” She still did not seem convinced. “Come on. You can do magick and you’ve seen Malicos and I use the Force to move things with nothing but our will. Why is this so hard to believe.”

“Do all Jedi possess this… ability?”

“No. Like I said, it’s really rare.”

She relaxed a little then, finally convinced they weren’t playing a prank on her. She went back to rummaging, pulling more things out for Greez to fold. “Can you see the dead?” she asked after a moment.

“In a manner of speaking,” he shrugged, folding an ugly pair of echo-free trousers from the discard pile. “I can see those who have passed as they were when the echo was left. It’s a snapshot of other people’s memories. Nothing more.”

“Did you see my sisters? On Dathomir?”

“I did. That village on the cliffs was full of echoes but I only looked at one.”

“What did you see?”

Cal bought himself some time by taking a little too long to fold the trousers, being overly precise about lining up the seams. Greez, realising this conversation might go more smoothly without his presence, took the opportunity to leave.

“I saw the massacre,” he said softly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her so kept his gaze fixed on the table. “There was a woman trying to find her daughter while the others tried to fight back.”

Merely thinking about it made his heart race. The deafening boom as missiles tore the village apart, the sheer terror and helplessness. Even through the veil of knowing it hadn’t happened to him, he had still experienced it as though it had.

“She found her eventually, buried under rubble. She couldn’t save her though.”

“You lived this?”

Cal nodded, risking a glance at her. She wasn’t angry like he feared she might be, caught in her own memories of that terrible day. “Did you see anything else?”

“I think… I saw you.”

“Tell me.”

“It was after the attack, down in the swamp. There was a girl tending to the dead on her own.”

Merrin looked away, nodding sadly. “There were many bodies. I did what I could.” She looked back at him then. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“It’s the least I can do. And sorry for not telling you about it earlier.” Old habits die hard it seemed. He might have much greater control over the ability now, but there was still that lingering urge to be cautious about it.

“I am sure you had your reasons.” And just like that, she went back to searching through the box.

Bogano was close now. They were making the final approach through hyperspace and would be reverting soon. Cal, BD-1, Cere and Merrin were gathered in the lounge while Greez ran a few checks in the cockpit. The Astrium sat on the table before them, bringing all kinds of anxieties with it.

“You think it’ll work?” Cal asked, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin. They’d come so far. For it to not work now was unthinkable, but he couldn’t shake that seed of doubt.

“It worked for Cordova,” Cere said. “He wouldn’t have sent you on this quest if he didn’t think you would succeed.”

“You can make it work,” Merrin chimed in.

“Oh, hey is anybody hungry?” Greez said, making an appearance. “I was thinking of making us some lunch before… we… land,” we trailed off. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting?”

“No, Captain,” Cere said. “And we couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

“Oh, huh, well I…”

“It’s true Greez,” Cal said.

“Thank you,” he muttered, looking down at the floor, his face a slightly darker shade of grey. “Hey, I hope you get in there and find that holo-thing.”

“Holocron,” Cal called after him as he headed up to the galley.

“Are you sure it’s something you should find?”

Both Cal and Cere turned to Merrin. She was perched on the sofa, hands gripping the edge, arms straight and uncomfortable. “What do you mean?” Cal asked.

“The children on that list. If you take them from their homes to train as Jedi, won’t they be hunted like you?”

Cal had to admit; it wasn’t something he had stopped to consider. He’d been so focused on getting into the Vault that anything that came after was a distant fantasy. His conviction faltered for a moment as he said, “It has to be kept out of the hands of the Empire.”

“It’ll help us put an end to the Empire,” Cere said with determination. “Things are only going to continue to get worse unless someone stops them.”

“And these children are necessary for that to happen?”

“Yes.”

Merrin flicked her gaze over to Cal. She knew now that he had once been a child soldier, forced into a situation not dissimilar from what they were describing. Was that really a future Cal wanted for those kids? He knew better than anyone else on this ship how badly it had messed him up. Cere was right, the Empire needed to be stopped, but what kind of victory would it be if they ruined those children’s lives for it?

“What happened to you wasn’t fair.”

“Do you just want to continue this cycle?”

There wasn’t time to speak any of this turmoil out loud as an alert went off from the cockpit, indicating they would be reverting in just a few minutes. Greez hurried past from the galley and Cal followed, wanting a moment to separate himself.

They went through the usual checks, nothing indicating reverting to realspace was unsafe. Greez pulled the lever and with a slight jolt, Bogano appeared before them, a shining green orb in the empty blackness.

Landing was a simple affair, Greez expertly bringing the Mantis down. Cal only gave the scanners a cursory glance out of habit since the only people who knew of this planet’s existence were already on board. For the same reason, Cere didn’t bother joining them in the cockpit as there were no comms to intercept.

As soon as Greez started powering down the engines, Cal went back out to the lounge to retrieve the Astrium. They could talk more about what to do with the holocron later. For now, he stood by his earlier statement. They needed to keep the holocron safe from the Empire, and they could only do that if it was on board the Mantis.

The four of them headed down the ramp together, Cal leading the way. The Vault stood tall in the distance, the only shape breaking up the endless horizon. “I did not think a place could be so… flat,” Merrin said. Cal turned around.

She was turning in a slow circle; gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “It is very green here,” she said as she came to face the rest of them again.

“You’re free to wander around if you want,” Cere said. “Just mind the cliffs and sinkholes.”

BD added that she should also be wary of the wildlife which Cal translated.

“I think I will stay near the ship for now. Good luck Cal,” she added, despite her earlier reservations.

The others also wished him well and then he was off. He followed the path he had taken the first time he’d set foot here, down to where he’d first tried to meditate. The grass had recovered from its accidental Force-induced flattening but the pull of the Force he was still oddly concentrated. He glanced up, back towards the Mantis. All he could see from this angle was the top half of its fin, glinting in the sunlight.

There was no rush. They fully intended to stay here for a few days while they worked out their next move. They had no idea exactly what Cordova had put on the holocron. For all they knew there might be some other trial that needed to be passed. Cere had warned that her old master could be overly cautious.

Cal sank to his knees and took a deep breath of the clean, fresh air. He closed his eyes and opened himself up to the Force bit by bit, somewhat wary of what had happened the last time he was here. He had grown since then, he reminded himself. He had restored and strengthened his connection to the Force. He had forgiven himself for his past mistakes and would not let them weigh him down any longer.

He breathed out, slow and steady, expanding his awareness with it. The planet wasn’t teeming with life in the same way Kashyyyk was, but it was still vibrant. The grass swaying in the breeze, the bugs crawling around their roots, the boglings deep underground in their burrows and the bog rats that hunted them.

He simply observed it all for several minutes, reacquainting himself with the planet before diving deeper into the Force. The neat lines drawn around the material world blurred, living things becoming indistinct from one another. There was only the Force and their presence within it.

He still couldn’t fully give in to it, having to consciously resist the pull lest he be dragged under. But he knew where the balance lay, how far he could go before he had to pull himself back from the brink. He walked the knife’s edge, letting it all wash over him, listening to the song of the Force through the gentle humming of the voices.

Slowly, he brought himself back into his body, folding his consciousness back down so it could fit inside his head. He opened his eyes and took another deep breath, taking a moment just to take in everything his own senses were telling him. The cool air on his skin, the lush green grass, the earthy damp scent of the ground beneath him. Something settled in him as he knelt there. He had started this quest broken and had returned whole.

BD had patiently waited at his side, only making a gentle beep when he got to his feet, asking if he felt better this time. “Yeah. Much better,” he said, holding out his arm for BD to climb up.

The journey to the Vault was much more straightforward this time. The benefit of both knowing where he was going as well as being able to more easily use the Force to help him reach his destination. Echoes of Cordova still called to him, but Cal knew he wouldn’t find much else of interest here. Just an old man puttering about, absorbed in his research. Maybe tomorrow he might come back and take a look, but he had already delayed enough.

It was strange; that Master Cordova has had such a profound impact on his life, and Cal knows so much about him, and yet they’ve never met. Cordova, if he still lives, had no idea Cal even exists. He liked to think that if he had somehow escaped the Purge, they might one day meet, after Cal rebuilds the Order and the Empire is no more.

The Vault pulled on his mind like a loose thread, tugging him onward. He didn’t need the encouragement, but it spurred him to move faster, excited to finally complete this arduous quest. As before, he placed his hand on the sealed door and pushed with the Force. The door slid open marginally more easily than last time and Cal crawled inside.

“Here we go,” he said once they were inside. He couldn’t see anywhere to put the Astrium, but the Force guided him to the centre of the chamber.

“There. In the floor.”

Cal looked down at the raised disk, protruding from the water that had collected inside. Kneeling down he could see a hole in the centre, clogged with grass and mud. He scooped it out with his hands, scraping away some of the surrounding moss. There was something carved into the stone but it was too faded to make it out. What he did recognise was the shape of the hole, circular with a straight line cut through its centre. The exact shape of the astrium.

He took it from the pouch on his belt and slotted it in place. The Vault rumbled around him, the Force humming, ancient mechanisms coming to life. Through the hole in the roof, he could see a large, curved structure pass overhead as it rotated back out of view. BD remarked at the sheer scale of it, wishing he could scan its inner workings.

“Amazing. The Vault itself is built like a giant holocron.” He turned in place, watching as the outer structure rotated back into view. Off to the side, a panel in the wall began to turn, opening to reveal what looked like a mirror. It tugged at him in the familiar way the echoes did, but it lacked the distinctive aura he associated with them.

Curious, he approached. There wasn’t any sign of the holocron just yet, so maybe this was the final test Cordova had left. If so, he was ready.

“Are you sure about that?”

He touched the surface, cool and smooth under his fingers. The world shifted, white light temporarily blinding him. When it cleared, he was no longer standing in the Vault. He looked over his shoulder to see if BD was still with him, but he wasn’t. Another vision then.

There was only one path forward, a sheer drop surrounding him on all other sides. He walked, following the fractured path.

“I offer this record of our civilisation to those who will follow,” a booming voice said from somewhere ahead. Cal didn’t recognise it but there was a sense of familiarity there, like he ought to know the speaker. “Despite out wisdom and technological achievement, we face extinction.”

As he kept walking, Cal gradually began to come across statues of Zeffo, similar to the ones he’d seen in Kujet’s tomb, scrambling for survival except this time they were crawling on the ground, reaching out to someone who refused to save them.

Broken homes and forgotten bones came next, the Zeffo people falling as their civilisation collapsed around them. No one could help because there was no one left.

“Dogma blinded us to the path of balance and gradually we allowed our pride to corrupt us.”

Cal could see the speaker now, a Zeffo Sage, impossibly large, watching Cal intently with hollow, sunken eyes as he approached. He wore simple light brown robes, the ridges on his head adorned with the customary plaques. He wasn’t sure which one he was, but considering he was speaking of the end of their civilisation, he suspected it might be Kujet, last of the Sages.

“The greater control we sought, the further we fell into ruin. I lead the remnants of my people into the great unknown, hoping that we will finally find peace.”

Cal reached the end of the path just as the Sage finished speaking. A gong rang out, echoing infinitely as the Sage began to crumble into dust and rock. They fell in place and as the dust cleared and the gong finally fell silent a new path was revealed.

“Careful now.”

Something glinted below in the faint light, shining green like a beacon. Cal jumped down and approached, voices buzzing in the back of his mind but offering no actual advice. He was almost getting used to the way they became twisted by the Force in times like these.

As he drew closer, he could see the holocron, hovering in the air, just waiting for him to take it. As he brushed his fingers against it his mind was filled with flashes of a potential future. Younglings gathered around him, waiting for instruction. “I shall teach them the ways of the Force,” he heard himself say, unsure if he’s said it out loud or was hearing it from this future version of himself.

“Master Kestis, what is the Force?”

“What will we be learning today?”

“Do you think the Empire will find us?”

Suddenly Cal was back in his body, looking at a frozen snapshot of himself holding the holocron, surrounded by the younglings. He shook his head, trying to reorient himself. His body hadn’t moved from where he’d been standing when the Sage was still looking down at him. He climbed down to the platform for real this time, approaching the still apparitions of himself and the younglings. They looked nearly solid, only a faint wispiness to them when he looked too closely. It didn’t seem they had anything else to offer other than mildly creep Cal out, so he looked around for where the winding path was leading him.

To the right a new archway had formed, leading to a sheer cliff face. It was rough enough to be easily climbable, hardly a challenge for a former scrapper. As he made his way up, he felt another shift around him, the grey cliff suddenly becoming a muddy ditch, gravity shifting so that he was now crawling on all fours through the dirt.

“Danger! Stay low or they’ll see you!”

His heart pounded in his chest, doing as the voices said and keeping close to the ground.

“The Inquisitors have found us!” one of his students cried. He couldn’t see where she was, but he hoped with everything he had that she was able to escape.

A blaster bolt flew overhead, sparks flying as it hit another Padawan. There was nothing Cal could do for him. He was dead before he hit the ground. He just had to keep going. He could fight them, but he was trapped down here. If he revealed himself too soon they would shoot him on sight and the younglings would be left defenceless.

“Master, shall we fight them?” another called out, lightsaber humming. He wanted to tell them all to run and hide but the words got stuck in his throat. This was his fault. The should’ve been more careful, to keep them on the move and build up their defences. Instead, he’d grown complacent, believing their remote temple was hidden well enough that they were all but invisible to the rest of the galaxy. But of course, the Empire always came sooner or later. He should’ve known.

The world shifted again, Cal now pulling himself over the lip of the cliff. He landed in a heap, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He looked over the edge but saw only a void. No younglings, no trenches.

“Protect yourself!” a student called from behind. Instinctively he wanted to run to them, to protect them as he should have. He scrambled to his feet and ran, lightsaber in hand. Stormtroopers appeared, charging towards him. He deflected their blaster fire with practiced ease, cutting them down as he followed the younglings’ cries.

“Capture the younglings. Kill the rest.”

There were so many of them, overwhelming in their number. All Cal could do was keep deflecting their fire, angling his blades to take down as many as he could. It was a useless endeavour, as soon as one trooper fell he was just as quickly replaced by another. Behind them he could see one of his students facing off against a purge trooper and several stormtroopers, all firing at him.

Cal wanted to call out to him, to order him to retreat but again the words got stuck in his throat. The youngling leapt into the air and plunged his lightsaber into the purge trooper’s chest, only to be shot down a second later by a second he hadn’t seen, his body falling limp on the ground.

With a roar, Cal pushed out with the Force, sending all the stormtroopers staggering back, dissipating into mist. He could still hear fighting up ahead, spurring him on. He couldn’t see anything for a while, blindly following blaster fire and the hum of lightsabers. That was until he spotted another student crouching behind a maintenance unit.

Cal could feel her fear even from this distance. She wouldn’t be able to tell from where she was hiding, but Cal could see the stormtroopers closing in on her position. “Keep searching. They can’t have gone far.”

It didn’t seem to matter how quickly Cal ran; he couldn’t close the distance between them. He couldn’t shout, to warn the youngling or draw the troopers’ attention away.

“Target sighted!” a trooper said, aiming his blaster towards his student.

She turned to see Cal then, her eyes wide with fear. “Help me Master Kestis!” It was the last thing she did before she was shot dead, right before Cal’s eyes. He stumbled, falling to his knees. How could he let this happen? He’d been so careful, done everything in his power to keep them safe and it still wasn’t enough.

A green glint caught his attention, pulling him from the brink of despair. He got up, stumbling over to it. It was the damned holocron, the thing that had led him to this point. He reached out to it, only for it to disappear into smoke, the Second Sister stepping forward.

“Cal Kestis,” she said, as condescending as ever. Her bleeding blade ignited at her side. “Surrender now, and we may spare the youngest.”

What choice did he have? He had to save everyone who was left. There was no doubt in his mind that she would gleefully slaughter those already captured. They wouldn’t survive interrogation. He got to his knees, holding his hands up, bowing his head.

The floor opened beneath him, sending him into freefall in the inky void. He barely managed to right himself as the ground suddenly rushed up to meet him, rolling to absorb the impact. He stared down a long corridor, red light spilling up from the grates in the floor. He walked towards the open door, hoping to find a way out, only to have the door slam shut mere centimeters from his face.

The door to his right stood open, and with the others sealed shut it seemed he had little choice. Pain and fear radiating from every surface, screaming at him in the Force. The walls were lined with cells, laser gates keeping his Padawans captive.

“I’m scared.”

“What is next for us?”

“Master Kestis, why?”

“I don’t want to be here!”

There was nothing he could do for them. Even if he could figure out how to open the cells, he had no escape plan. They’d be caught within minutes, and he didn’t even know which way to go to lead them to safety. It broke his heart to leave them, but he had to. Something was pulling him onward.

The sounds of pained sobbing met him around the next corner. To his horror a youngling was strapped into an interrogation chair. It wasn’t currently active, but the scent of blood told him it had been recently. He opened his mouth to offer some comfort, but what could he say? He’d failed them. If it weren’t for his weakness they would all be safe.

The insistent tugging in his mind pulled him away. Two stormtroopers stood guarding the door leading out. Strangely they saluted at him as he passed. Shouldn’t they be apprehending him, not letting him wander about the place as he pleased?

There wasn’t time to dwell on it. As soon as he stepped past the door, the one in front of him slammed shut. He was trapped between the two with neither budging. The lights went out, plunging him into darkness. He reached for his lightsaber, prepared to cut his way out if need be.

He held it up and ignited it. The familiar red blade lit the small space, glinting off the pauldrons of his Inquisitor uniform. The door opened a second later, saving him the task of cutting his way out. He lowered his lightsaber to his side, striding across the bridge to the mirror in the far wall. The reflection was murky and distorted, but an echo clung to its surface, pulling him in.

He reached out to it and the surface cleared. Suddenly he was outside himself, looking in at the Imperial base. The full weight of what he’d become finally sank in. He’d given up, turned himself over to the Inquisitorius and become one of them. Thy younglings in his care were being tortured to death because he was weak.

Master Tapal’s death paled in comparison to this failure. How could he live with himself knowing the pain and suffering he’d caused? He pulled his hand back and slammed it against the mirror, using the Force to break it with a cry.

It shattered beneath his hand and reality shifted once more. He snapped back to his own body, now standing in the Vault. The voices rushed in to fill the vacuum, chattering away in an indistinguishable noise. He looked down at himself, having to check he wasn’t wearing that damned Inquisitor uniform.

BD beeped from his shoulder, asking if he was alright. Cal didn’t know what to say to that. How could he possibly explain what he’d seen? At least BD’s presence confirmed he was no longer trapped within the vision. He turned slowly, almost afraid of what he might see, just in case there was more to come.

Green glinted at him, flashing as the structure rotated overhead, periodically blocking out the sunlight. The sight of it opened a pit of dread in his stomach. This was what he’d come for, wasn’t it? The entire reason he was standing here in the first place.

“Danger!”

He shook his head, taking a step towards the holocron, disregarding the warning. He understood the risk now, but he couldn’t leave it here, not with the Vault wide open. He could talk to Cere about what he’d seen. Maybe she had a better idea of how to protect the younglings, but the last thing they should do is jump into this blindly. They would need to be ready.

He was just about to take the holocron from the air when a lightsaber ignited. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, for who else had been chasing him across the galaxy but the Second Sister.

“I had a bad feeling I was going to see you here,” he said, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and striding towards her. If they were going to fight he wanted to keep as much distance between her and the holocron as possible.

“Oh? How uncharacteristically prescient of you,” she said primly. “Here I thought your greatest virtue was your dogged persistence as you stumbled your way from one debacle to the next.”

“Guess you made a mistake not killing me on Bracca then.”

“A scant mercy. I wagered one meaningless Padawan against a prize that would win me the Emperor’s favour.” She paced as she spoke, reminiscent of a predator preparing to strike.

“You think I’m gonna let you walk away with the holocron?” he said, matching her pacing, keeping the holocron behind him.

“Of course not. We both have our pride. But yours has cost you the lives of all the Force-sensitive children on that list. As well as your own.”

Cal ignited his lightsaber then, shifting into a fighting stance. “Like you said Trilla. I’m persistent.”

She sneered at him, crouching down before springing towards him, unnaturally fast as she used the Force to reach him. He barely had time to get out of the way, bringing his blade up to slash at her. She was too fast though, leaping out of the way before coming at him in a flurry of blows, both ends of her lightsaber blazing.

He held his ground, igniting both of his blades to better meet hers, fending off each strike. She brought her blade down in an overhead strike which he caught. Their blades sparked against each other, both trying to overpower the other. She was slowly gaining the upper hand, forcing him back. She smiled at him, an ugly thing, as she believed she’d won.

Cal knew he wasn’t going to win this through strength alone, but his mind was not clouded by bloodlust. He could be clever. He extinguished his blades, stepping back as she toppled forward, no longer having him to counterbalance. Taking the opportunity while she was off-guard, he threw her back with the Force. She landed with a  splash in the water several meters away.

She raised her hand to call her lightsaber towards her as she scrambled to her feet, but Cal was quicker, pulling it through the air towards him before she was even standing. He realised his mistake too late.

struggled to remember that time in his life clearly. He’d been only nine when he’d joined Master Tapal on the Albedo Brave, and his memories had become faded and muddied once the voices arrived. Voices screamed at him, terror and pain overcoming his mind and body. He tried to resist it, giving everything he had to remain in the present but it was no use.

“Careful with that thing,” she said, pulling the holocron to her hand. His vision was fading fast, sound drowned out by the screaming in his head. “It’s been through hell.”

Consciousness left him before his knees hit the ground, Trilla heading towards the exit the last thing he saw before he succumbed to the potent echoes.

Chapter Text

The cave wasn’t very big, nor was it particularly well hidden, but it would keep them safe for now. The younglings were gathered near the back while she and her master stood guard by the entrance. A small Rodian was kneeling beside her, shaking with fear. She knelt down beside them, rubbing their arms, trying to offer what little comfort she could.

She didn’t understand, why were the clones hunting them? They’d already killed two younglings before she and Cere had managed to fight them off, but there were more patrolling the area.

Cere turned to her. She could already tell her master was planning something she wasn’t going to like. “We can’t stay here,” Cere said, keeping her voice low. “The clones are too close. They’ll find us before long, but we can’t move everyone like this.”

“Then what do we do?” Cere turned to look at the cave’s entrance and suddenly Trilla understood. “No. Don’t go. We need to stick together.”

“I’m going to lure them away and then I’m going to circle back,” she said. She was projecting calm into the Force, and while it may fool the younglings, Trilla knew she was just as scared as she felt herself. “Stay with the younglings Trilla. May the Force be with you.”

She stepped back, heading out of the cave. There was nothing Trilla could do to stop her. The younglings couldn’t be left alone. Someone had to look after them in case the clones found them. “Master! Don’t leave us!” she called uselessly after her.

“Trilla, what’s going to happen?” the Rodian child asked, clinging to her robes. There was so much fear in their large eyes. She cupped their face in her hands, trying to claw back what little composure she had.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she said, wishing she believed the lie.

The interrogation chamber was cold. It always was; the metal table leeching what little warmth remained in her body. Restraints cut into her arms and legs, tight around her chest making it impossible to take a deep breath.

Stormtroopers kept guard, though why the Inquisitors thought they were necessary was a mystery. There was no escaping from this hell. She couldn’t reach the Force, her concentration shattered.

The machines around her began to whirr, coming to life. Sharp needles unfolded, pointing in at her. The panic began to set in. This wasn’t the first time she’d been here. She knew what came next.

“No. No please,” she begged, scared and desperate. The troopers didn’t so much as flinch, standing impassively as two large panels came into view. Electricity crackled and hummed as it ran through the panels, sparking as they neared her body. “Please!”

She screamed as soon as they made contact. Every muscle in her body tensed, fighting to break free of the restraints. She was on fire, burning from the inside. The ceaseless agony washed away all rational thought until only the pain remained.

Someone was screaming in the distance.

It had been many months since she had last seen her former mentor. Not since she had wilfully abandoned her in a cave full of terrified younglings. She had been here the entire time, but Trilla had not been allowed to see her until today.

She had watched from the observation room as she screamed and begged, just as Trilla had. This was what she deserved, to suffer the same fate, the same excruciating pain for her failings. A twisted sense of satisfaction curled in her gut. And now it was time to see if she would break.

Cere was still drowsy from the last bout of electrocution as Trilla entered the interrogation chamber. Her head lolled about as she slowly regained her senses. Trilla stood before her, her heart beating hard in her chest as she waited for her former master to see what she had created. The nightmare she had become.

When Cere finally opened her eyes, it did not take her long for her to recognise her. “Trilla,” she croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming. Trilla maintained eye contact, holding her hand out for her helmet. A trooper placed it in her hand, and she lifted it onto her head.

“No… NO!”

Without warning, the interrogation chair exploded, sending everyone in the room flying. Trilla felt the lives of the troopers extinguish as they hit the ground, crushed by the dark side of the Force. Trilla herself was too dazed to get back up, but she watched through her red visor as Cere freed herself from the restraints.

She stumbled towards Trilla and for a moment she almost foolishly hoped she would help her up, take her hand and drag her out of this wretched place. But she didn’t stop, passing her by as she headed to the exit.

Hope turned to rage as she realised she had been abandoned once more by the one person who was supposed to protect her.

She opened her eyes, looking up at an unfamiliar room. Her entire body ached, utterly exhausted. There was blood in her mouth, thick and metallic. Was she back in the interrogation chamber? No… it was far too bright in here. This was not the Fortress.

The light dimmed briefly, a dull rumble reverberating through her body. It took her several minutes to realise she was soaking wet, lying in shallow water. She didn’t think she was restrained, but she didn’t have the energy to move.

The light dimmed again.

Where was she? She couldn’t remember what she had been doing before this. Flashes of the Fortress passed through her mind. Hunting and killing Jedi, interrogating Force-sensitives, trying to either turn them to the darkness or extract useful information before they gave up and died.

Pathetic.

No… That wasn’t right…

Slowly she tried to get her body to move, managing to get her limbs to obey her commands.

Hadn’t this happened before?

She tried to roll onto her side, only to end up dunking half her face in the muddy water. Something beeped nearby. She paid it no attention until the thing jumped on her chest. A droid… the one belonging to Kestis.

It beeped at her again, but her binary was rusty. It sounded like it was… concerned. But why would it care about her? The sight of it filled her with anger. She reached to the Force to crush it, raising her hand, a snarl on her face.

BD-1 shrank away, antennas lying flat, but did not get off his chest. What was he doing? This was his friend. He would never hurt him. The anger drained away in an instant, leaving him hollow and shaky. It was too much effort to keep his head up, so he let it fall back in the water.

“BD,” he croaked. “What happened?”

BD perked up a little and informed him he’d suffered a seizure. Ah... that certainly explained why he felt like he’d been chewed by the Ibdis Maw. And why Trilla was invading his mind. He lifted his hand, still clutching her lightsaber. The echoes were quiet now, but they still lingered in his head.

“Kriff.”

BD then told him he’d seized for a little under five minutes before lying unconscious for several more. He had been unable to contact the Mantis for help as their comms had been blocked.

“The holocron…” She took it, BD said with a sad whistle. There was nothing he could do to stop her. “It’s not your fault buddy.”

“It’s yours.”

All Cal could do for several minutes was lie in the cold water and try to summon the energy to move. It didn’t help that his head was a mess, his thoughts overridden by Trilla’s echoes. BD offered a stim which Cal accepted. He needed all the help he could get if he wanted to make it back to the Mantis in once piece. The exhaustion and bone deep aching was very much real in this instance. The painkillers didn’t take long to start working and finally Cal was able to push himself up on his hands and knees.

“Is this all that remains of the Jedi?”

He spat out the blood still lingering in his mouth from where he’d bitten his tongue, a thick globule of red. He tried to stand but overbalanced, nearly faceplanting the ground. There was no strength in his limbs, shaking with the effort just to keep him in this position. He couldn’t rest though. Not when Trilla had escaped and the rest of the crew might be in danger.

He was more successful on his second attempt, staggering to his feet and staying there. He swayed in place as his vision temporarily greyed out, vertigo warning him he should sit back down. All he could too was breathe through it and hope it would abate.

BD did not climb on his back, instead choosing to lead the way out of the Vault, waiting for Cal to start moving again. “I’m good,” he lied. He clipped both his lightsaber and Trilla’s to his belt and staggered his way towards the Vault’s exit, his feet dragging in the water. BD kept his pace slow instead of running off like he normally would.

“You couldn’t even fight an ant, let alone take on the might of the Empire.”

“Shut it,” he said through gritted teeth. BD turned to look at him but knew well enough by now that Cal wasn’t talking to him. He had to pause at the exit to catch his breath before attempting to wriggle through the narrow gap leading out. The last thing he needed was to pass out in a confined space.

When he had a slightly firmer grip on reality he squeezed himself into the small space, taking it slow. He crawled out on all fours on the other side, unable to get his legs to cooperate.

“Look at you, crawling in the dirt. How undignified.”

Out of spite Cal tried to get to his feet, only to struggle to even get up on one knee. BD beeped at him worriedly, advising he take it slow as he had only moments ago suffered a major seizure. “I know, I know,” he said breathlessly as his vision started to tunnel again. In the distance he could hear blaster fire.

The clones were right behind them, getting closer with every step. She couldn’t run any faster, the younglings wouldn’t be able to keep up. Another round of blaster fire raced through the air. The clones were trained well and rarely missed. They were done for.

Cere stopped in her tracks as everyone else ran by, Trilla included. She threw up a shield with the Force, the bolts ricocheting off harmlessly. It was a sight to behold but not something that could be sustained. As soon as the shield fell, Cere shoved the clones back, buying them enough time to run out of sight.

Cal returned to the present with a groan, blaster fire still ringing in his skull. “What’s happening out there?” he asked BD.

BD scampered outside the Vault to take a look, returning a moment later. Several stormtroopers were fighting an oggdo at the base of the hill. It seemed the oggdo was winning. “Maybe we can slip past,” Cal suggested. He was in no fit state to stand, let alone fight. But it wouldn’t be long before either side won, so he’d have to be quick.

With standing an unnecessary requirement for now, he crawled over to the top of the hill and slid down on his backside, trying to control his decent with his feet. The suns were blinding out here, stabbing directly into his brain, forcing him to squint his eyes near shut. He could hear, if not see, the oggdo roaring while the troopers barked orders. BD assured him they hadn’t been sighted yet, directing him down a narrow path down the side of the cliff.

He tried to reach out to the Force to get a better idea of what he was dealing with but was met by a wall of noise, thousands of needles stabbing into his brain. He was pretty sure he lost consciousness for a couple of seconds as the next thing he knew BD was right next to his face, ordering him to get up.

“Such an annoying thing. It would be so easy to break it.” She could so easily pluck it off the ground, stupidly trusting as it was, and crush it in her grip.

“Don’t you kriffing dare,” he growled as he pressed his hands into the dirt, supressing the urge to reach out to his friend. He took a deep breath and only once he was certain he’d regained full control of his impulses did he push himself to his feet.

The fight was still ongoing nearby, but he couldn’t look up, eyes fixed on BD as he led Cal towards the path. It was steep and slick with mud, but Cal managed not to fall by leaning most of his weight against the sheer cliff face. He trusted BD not to get them lost. He’d spent several years on this planet, waiting for someone to come along and fulfil his purpose. There probably wasn’t a surface around here that hadn’t been scanned at least one.

They made it to Cordova’s abandoned workshop without incident, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to remain on his feet. BD went ahead once they were inside, checking to make sure the way through was clear. Cal took the opportunity to catch his breath but resisted the urge to sit. There was no way he would ever get back up if he did.

A moment later BD returned, urging him to hurry. Keeping one hand on the wall for support, Cal followed. It was quieter down here, the sound of blaster fire faded away. It helped ease some of the pain in his head. Or at least it did until they came across some sparking wires.

The stench of burning flesh filled her nose. No, don’t think about it. Don’t think. Hide. This isn’t happening, it’s just a nightmare. That’s all.

“Tell us what you know about Cordova,” the man demanded. Always asking the same question over and over. Why wouldn’t he believe her? She didn’t know anything. She’d only met him a handful of times and only ever in passing.

The chair sparked again, digging into her skin. Her body went rigid, straining against the restraints as she screamed.

Cal blinked hard, trying to dismiss the lingering vision of the interrogation chair. He was barely standing, his body wracked with the phantom pain of electrocution, the wall the only thing keeping him upright. BD was stood off to the side, head on a swivel for danger. He didn’t notice Cal was back until he pushed off from the wall, letting out a groan.

There was no need to ask if Cal was alright, there was no hiding the truth. They just needed to get back to the Mantis. “Let’s go,” he mumbled, fighting off another bout of vertigo.

It wasn’t long before they finally made it to the top of the mesa, the Mantis’s fin rising high into the sky. Cal could hardly stand to look at it, the reflections of the suns stabbing his eyes. Without the support of a wall progress slowed down. Each step was a careful calculation to make sure he didn’t simply topple over.

The loading ramp lowered and someone came running out. “Cal!” Cere called.

The mere sight of her made her blood boil. How dare she show her face when she had left Trilla to die twice. She would finish her off now. No longer would she be haunted by her master’s failure. She would be free, vengeance fuelling her power.

I don’t want to do this.

She reached for her lightsaber and activated it, holding it out at her side. Her body was unusually weak as she shifted her stance but that didn’t matter. Hatred was a powerful ally, and it seemed Cere was unarmed.

Cere slowed but did not stop, approaching cautiously. Why wasn’t she afraid? Did she still believe she wasn’t a threat? She had seen what she was capable of, what she was willing to do.

Help me.

Her grip tightened on her lightsaber. It felt different in her hand, the balance off-centre. It didn’t matter. It still had a blade capable of cutting Cere in half. Not that she deserved a quick death.

“BD, what’s going on?” Cere asked, not even addressing her, looking to that irritating droid instead. It beeped something at her, skittering away. At least it was afraid of her.

Come back.

Cere looked back at her then, coming to a stop several meters away, her arms held out like she was a spooked animal and not the Second Sister of the Inquisitorius.

“Cal, I know you’re in there,” she said, maintaining eye contact. “Come back to us.”

I can’t.

She didn’t know what Cere was talking about. Was she talking to Kestis on a comm? She wanted to raise her lightsaber, to charge and cut her down, but an invisible force kept her rooted to the spot. Why couldn’t she just finish this.

“It’s alright Cal. Remember who you are.”

This isn’t right. Her resolve crumbled, her grip loosening. This rage isn’t mine. How did she even get here?

“Cere?” he croaked, switching off his lightsaber. She started towards him before he even lowered it to his side. He tried to step towards her, but his legs had given up trying to keep him standing. He fell to his knees, only saved from completely collapsing by Cere’s arms wrapped around him.

“You’re alright,” she said, pulling him close to her chest to reassure herself as much as him. He was too exhausted for words, struggling to not pass out right there. They still had to get onto the Mantis though and he had to tell her what happened, what he’d seen. What he was still seeing.

“We have to leave. Can you stand?” she asked. She waited for him to give an unsteady nod before hauling him back to his feet. He struggled to help; his legs having turned to jelly. Once he was up she ducked under his arm, wrapping her own around his back and pulling him close to her side. Together they crossed the short distance back to the ship.

They didn’t stop in the lounge, Cere taking him past Greez and Merrin and straight through to the fresher. That made sense considering he was covered in mud and soaked to the bone. She sat him down and closed the door, allowing BD to sneak in behind. “Tell me what happened.”

Although she asked Cal, it was BD who answered, repeating what he’d told Cal about the details of his seizure. Cere looked at him with wide eyes. “You shouldn’t even be standing. Please tell me he didn’t try to fight like this,” she said, turning back to the little droid. BD confirmed that they had managed to evade combat.

“Cal, hey, open your eyes,” she said. He hadn’t realised he’d closed them, but it was so hard to stay awake. “What caused the seizure? Was it the holocron?”

He shook his head and tried to unclip Trilla’s lightsaber from his belt. It was a struggle due to it being wedged between his leg and the wall, his fine motor control still shot. Cere leant over to help him, pausing when she caught sight of the hilt. “Trilla…”

“She took the holocron,” he sighed, unable to muster the energy for much more than that.

Cere looked away, her eyes darting about as she processed this new information. Cal was starting to lose the battle with consciousness again when she finally spoke. “We’ll deal with that later. For now, we need to take care of you.”

He opened his mouth to protest but she beat him to it. “Before you try to say you’re fine, remember that you just pulled your lightsaber on me five minutes ago. She’s still in your head, isn’t she.”

“And I’m never going to leave.”

He let his head thump against the wall and closed his eyes, letting out an exhausted, slightly desperate sigh, barely holding back tears.

“Alright. Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can rest. We’ll talk about this after, when I know I’m talking to just Cal.”

She helped him out of his muddy clothes, leaving him in his still damp under layers, and wiped the worst of the dirt off. Neither of them particularly felt like doing more than the bare minimum right now. She helped him to his room, depositing him on the bed and digging out some clean clothes for him from his storage box under the bed. “Make sure he gets changed for me,” she said to BD, giving Cal a pointed look.

“What about the holocron?”

“Don’t worry about that right now. We’ll fix this.”

Cal chose to trust her and managed a slight nod. She left the room, the door closing behind her. Changing clothes was a struggle but he got there eventually. Despite wanting nothing more than to lie down, he didn’t particularly want to do so in wet clothes. He kicked them in a corner to be dealt with later, collapsing on his bed. He was asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

The room was dark. It was always dark. The only light was blood red, seeping up from the floor. She couldn’t move, her body locked in place by the cold metal encasing her. The waiting was almost as bad as the actual torture. What was she going to be faced with this time? Electrocution, poison, needles digging into her nerves, setting her on fire.

She couldn’t keep doing this. She was going to break; it was only a matter of time. But she had to hold on. Master Junda would come to save her. She had to.

The longer she was left to wait the greater her fear grew. She was utterly helpless to do anything about it. She couldn’t reach the Force, and even if she did somehow break free of her bonds, she had no strength to fight with. She would simply collapse on the floor in a wretched heap for whoever came to scrape up.

Maybe she should give in.

The door in front of her opened. The usual retinue of stormtroopers accompanying an Inquisitor. Her breath came quickly, too shallow to fill her lungs. She couldn’t tamp down the panic, not when it was justified.

“Tell us what you know of Cordova,” he demanded.

Words wouldn’t come, but she could only give the same answer she always had. They knew more than she did, but they did not believe her. Or maybe they did and were simply toying with her.

The Inquisitor gave a dismissive hum, taking his position by the control panel. “N-no, please,” she rasped, barely above a whisper.

“Answer the question.”

She could not. A sob escaped her, pathetic and weak even to her own ears. The chair whirred to life, its various instruments unfolding. Panic gripped her fully, rational thought leaving her. She tried to thrash against her restraints, even as the needles came ever closer.

She screamed as they pierced her skin, sinking deep into muscle. Within seconds her entire body was on fire, burning from the inside.

“Cal!”

Cold metal pressed against his back, something wrapped around his limbs, restricting his movement.

“What is wrong with him?”

The pain was inescapable, thought that didn’t stop him from writhing, desperate to get away from it.

“Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.”

He tried to cling to the words, but their meaning slipped through his fingers, burnt away by the torrent of pain. A warm hand slipped into his own, an anchor in the storm. He tried to hold on, fighting against his spasming muscles. Something shifted in the back of his mind, a slight ripple in the Force.

“Cal,” Cere’s voice said clear as day, cutting through the fog in his mind. He couldn’t see her, but she sounded sad. Was she here too, being tortured alongside him? “You’re safe. It’s just a nightmare. Come back to us.”

He tightened his grip on the hand, holding on for dear life, trying to breathe through the worst of the pain. He wasn’t there, he told himself. Cere was talking to him, but she’d escaped. She wasn’t there, so neither was he. He followed the thin thread of her presence in the Force like a lifeline. It faltered dangerously but never gave out entirely. Cere kept talking to him, her voice washing over him even if he couldn’t make out all the words.

The interrogation chamber faded away, revealing the engine room of the Mantis. The pain slowly ebbed but did not abate entirely, leaving him shaking on the floor. He tried to seek Cere out, his vision still hazy. “There you are,” she said softly when he met her eyes, one hand stroking his hair.

He let out a shaky sigh, some of the tension bleeding from him. He lay there for several minutes, waiting for the screaming to stop. It didn’t entirely and he was beginning to worry it never would, but it did fade enough that he had some space to think beyond the pain.

“Hurts,” he muttered, still trembling from the pain wracking his body. As it was phantom pain, nothing could be done about it but wait and see if it would fade.

“I know. Is there anything I can do to help?” she said, now carding her fingers through his hair.

“S-stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He let his eyes slip closed as his body continued to tremble with the aftershocks. A deep ache settled in his bones, leaving him just as tired as he’d been before he went to sleep. “You know what will happen if you don’t tell us what we want to know.”

His eyes snapped open, his mind flooding with endless torture sessions. His stomach churned, threatening to rebel against him. He sat up too quickly. His vision dimmed and his ears began to ring, distracting from the nausea for a brief moment.

“You’re alright,” Cere said, rubbing his back in soothing circles. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to keep himself grounded. He glanced up, only to be met by the open door of the engine room.

The clones were out there, just waiting for them. They couldn’t leave the cave. They were trapped.

His heart leapt into his throat, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He needed to run. They were coming for him, but he was trapped. There was nowhere to go, and they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him dead.

“Cal, calm down,” Cere said, breaking through the haze of panic, giving his hand a squeeze. “Just breathe. Focus on what’s real.”

“No, I can’t go back there. Please.”

He tried to listen, he really did, but the intrusive thoughts made it difficult to remember which reality he was in, caught between the past and present, the two blending together. He was on the Mantis. The clones were coming for them. He was safe. He needed to run. Cere was here. Cere was gone.

“My head…” he sobbed, curling in on himself.

“Can you meditate?” Cere asked, a thread of concern lacing her words. The longer this went on, the less sure she was that this was going to end well.

Cal didn’t even want to try reaching for the Force. It was a jumbled mess around him, chaotic and sharp. There was no peace or solace to be found there. He shook his head, burying his head in his hands.

“They’re coming for me.”

Ice ran down his spine, sweat cooling on his skin. “I don’t know what to do.”

Cere pulled him into a hug, holding him with one arm against her chest. “It’s alright. You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” She kept muttering assurances to him until he finally got his breathing under control. He could still hear Trilla’s desperate cries in his mind, but Cere’s presence helped him remain in the present. She hadn’t left. She was staying right here.

“I think the worst has passed,” he croaked, slightly uncurling from the tense ball he’d become. His throat hurt in a way that told him he must have been screaming. A lot. The open door in front of him still filled him with a deep sense of dread, but it didn’t plunge him back into the past.

“Do you want to try sitting on the bed?” Cere asked, letting him go as he sat up.

The floor was cold, reminding him of the interrogation chair. No, not reminding him. It wasn’t his memory, it was Trilla’s. While it was worth keeping in mind, it didn’t bring much comfort since it affected him in the same way regardless. He would be more comfortable on the bed, but Cal wasn’t entirely sure his legs could support him right now.

Distracted, he caught sight of the open door again. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, shadows clinging to the walls. He could hear boots marching closer, fear pooling in his stomach. “Cal?” she said, noticing the distant look in his eyes. She followed his gaze down the hallway but saw nothing. “There’s no one else here. It’s just us.”

“Wh-where are the others?”

“BD is still charging,” she said patiently. “Greez and Merrin went back to their rooms. We’re all safe. Come on, the floor isn’t doing either of us any favours.” Without waiting for him to respond this time she stood, helping him do the same. He tried to help, he really did, but his legs didn’t want to cooperate, his muscles stiff and aching.

Cere all but dragged him the short distance to his bed while he did his best not to fall flat on his face. She got him sitting on the edge and turned around. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, afraid she was about to leave.

“No. Don’t go. We need to stick together.”

“I’m not leaving.” She looked him in the eye, calm and steady. Despite the fear and adrenaline ravaging his system, he believed her. “I was just going to get your blanket.” It took a lot of willpower to make himself let go of her, but he managed it, wrapping his arms around his middle instead. She moved slowly, not straying further from Cal than strictly necessary before wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, offering a small layer of protection from the nightmares he’d just faced.

“What time is it?” he asked, realising belatedly she was still wearing her pyjamas.

“Not sure. Early, but it’s not long until we’d all be up anyway.” Satisfied he was as comfortable as she could make him, she sat at his side.

“Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s not your fault Cal.” She began rubbing his back again and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“Are we still on Bogano?”

“No. The Empire swarmed the area. It was only thanks to Merrin and her magick that they didn’t spot us immediately. We’re currently in orbit around some unnamed moon, away from any populated systems.” Cal only gave a slight nod; afraid he might pass out if he attempted anything more vigorous.

“How’s the pain?”

“Still hurts.” He could feel it, buzzing under his skin. The sting of the needles as they plunged into muscle, the all-consuming fire that raged within, burning everything inside until he was nothing but a broken husk. This was not his pain to bear, but it was a burden he was made to carry regardless.

“I wish there was something more I could do to help,” she said sadly.

“You’ve already helped a lot,” he croaked. He didn’t want to think about how long that nightmare would have held him captive without Cere’s help. He’d probably still be writhing on the floor without her. “You used the Force to pull me out,” he said, almost a question. His brain was still scrambled, but he remembered that faint thread that had brought him back to reality.

“I couldn’t leave you trapped like that knowing I could help. And I won’t hesitate to do it again if I need to.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that. But thank you. I know it’s not an easy thing for you.”

“No. But maybe with time it will be.”

“You’re going to open yourself to the Force again?”

Cere nodded. “I spent so long hiding from myself, burying my past and hating myself for what I did. But I’m still carrying it all with me, and it’s just as heavy as it was five years ago.” She took a deep breath, her gaze finding some distant point beyond the confines of the Mantis. “I think it’s time I faced my past and let it go.”

She’ll never be free. The pain will never stop. She’s going to die here and there’s nothing she can do about it.

Cal sucked in a sharp breath as another wave of panic crashed over him. He gripped the edge of the bed, a desperate attempt to keep himself in the present. Cere rubbed his back, giving him something to focus on. After a couple of deep breaths the panic faded, but the shouting and screaming was still there. It was taking everything he had to keep it from overwhelming him entirely, shoving it down with what little control over the Force he still had.

“Can I get you anything?” Cere asked after a while.

“Just stay?” he asked. He really didn’t want to be alone right now and there was no telling how the echoes would react to the sight of Cere turning her back to him and walking away.

“I can do that.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her side. He rested his head on her shoulder, too exhausted to pretend he didn’t enjoy it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

His initial reaction was to shut down and bottle it up, keep it to himself and not bother Cere with his troubles. But if anyone else could understand what he’d been forced to witness, it was Cere. She had experienced it first hand after all, and for far longer than Cal.

“I was in the interrogation chair,” he said, pulling his blanket closer around himself. “It wasn’t a proper echo, more like several all mashed together,” he shrugged, hoping to make light of it. The way she tensed told him it wasn’t working.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that. That you experience any of it. It isn’t fair.”

Cal was pretty sure that was the first time he’d ever heard anyone verbalise the injustice of his ability. He’d long since resigned to himself to this existence, but it was nice to finally hear it from someone else. It wasn’t fair that he had so many memories crammed in his head. That he had to live with the voices overriding his own thoughts. That he struggled to find the line between himself and everyone else. And no, it really wasn’t fair that he had to live through someone else being tortured.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. If he dwelled on it too long he might start crying and he’d done enough of that already.

“I’m sorry about before. When you hid your past from me,” he said quietly. “I was arrogant and foolish. I could never understand what you went through. I’ve only caught a glimpse and even now, I get to leave it behind and hope it fades.”

“I probably could have handled it better myself,” she muttered.

“No. You had every right to keep it from me. I can barely even think about Trilla’s echoes, let alone talk about them. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

Cere hummed, slowly rubbing her hand on his arm where she held him. They just sat in comfortable silence for a while, Cere keeping him company while the nervous tremors slowly came to a stop. The memory of the interrogation chair only lay beneath the surface, but it was tolerable. He was exhausted but there was no use in trying to go back to sleep. The mere thought of another nightmare was enough to keep him awake.

“The waiting is the worst part.”

“You already know what’s coming.”

“What do we do now?” he asked, needing a distraction. “Trilla took the holocron, but I have no idea where she went. I know only a Jedi can open it, but the Empire will find a way eventually.”

“I’m responsible for the path that Trilla is on,” Cere said, sounding distant. “And what she does next is the cost of all of my mistakes.”

“None of this is your fault Cere.”

“That’s nice of you to say Cal, but it is.”

“I saw you two in the cave, before you left.” He shifted, sitting upright to look her in the eye. “The clones were coming. They would have found you sooner or later. I don’t know what difference it would have made, but you would both have either ended up dead or captured no matter what you did.”

Cere had to turn away, fresh grief bubbling up to the surface. “I shouldn’t have abandoned her and the younglings.”

“Maybe not. But our mistakes are in the past. It’s what we do next that’s important. You taught me that.”

She seemed to deflate a little, taking in what he was saying. It seemed the conversation was over, the pair of them stewing in the past. “You’re right.” She turned to him, a new spark of determination in her eyes. “I know where Trilla will have taken the holocron. It’s the same place you saw in the echoes. Where we were tortured.”

“That won’t happen this time,” Cal said, managing to put some steel in his voice.

She looked at him with something akin to pride, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “I can almost believe that. Thank you Cal.”

“For what?”

“For being here. This path hasn’t been easy for either of us.”

Cal shrugged self-consciously. He wanted to deflect somehow but came up blank.

“Why don’t we see if Greez is still up? I don’t think anyone on this ship will be getting any more sleep and you look like you could do with something to eat.” Without leaving room for him to speak, she stood up and held out her hand. He took it, letting her help him to his feet. He was a little steadier than he had been earlier, his legs not shaking anywhere near as much. He still ached all over.

Together they shuffled out to the galley to tell the others of the next stage of their mission.

Chapter Text

The echoes didn’t get better like Cal had hoped. He didn’t know why this time was different from the multitude of others he’d picked up in his life, but Trilla’s echoes didn’t recede, staying at the forefront of his mind. Maybe it was because she was a Force user, or the sheer number of them he’d experienced in one go. Or maybe it was because of something else entirely. But regardless of the reason, Cal was left struggling not to fall apart at the seams.

He’d stopped screaming himself awake at least, but that was about the only improvement and mostly due to the fact that he tried to sleep as little as he could get away with. The echoes could be triggered by anything when he was awake so there was no refuge there either. The sound of clanging metal when he dropped a tool at the workbench, the sting in his finger when he caught a sharp edge on his lightsaber, even the smell of Greez’s cooking when he tried to make them scazz steaks one time. Cal had gone running for the fresher as his mind filled with the smell of burning flesh.

He defaulted back to how he’d been on Bracca, headphones on permanently, blasting music so he didn’t have to hear Trilla’s voice in his head. He knew she wasn’t talking to him; that wasn’t how the voices worked. But he’d picked up so many, and not just of her time being tortured and twisted into an Inquisitor. She had been hunting Jedi for far longer than she’d been a prisoner. That was plenty of time for her to torment her victims and give the voice in his head plenty of ammunition to use against him.

The only thing that had helped so far was meditation, but even that was patchy. He’d needed Cere to guide him through it again at first, getting tangled in it when he was on his own. It dragged him down into the endless abyss, screams filling his head until he lost himself to them. Cere had had to bring him down from another panic attack after his first attempt, repeatedly reminding him of where he was.

It took a few tries, but eventually he managed to find a new balance. It didn’t come as easily as it had recently, his limit for how deep into the Force he could let himself sink significantly diminished. But it helped. At the very least, it gave him the control he needed to separate himself from the echoes, building a fragile wall around them so he could just think for a while.

He had to work on supressing the echoes while awake too. It took far more concentration than it used to and was significantly less effective when he could hear Trilla screaming and begging all the time. Cere had promised that once they retrieved the holocron they would work on a more permanent solution for him, but right now they simply didn’t have the time.

They still had a couple of days to go before arriving at the Fortress and most of everyone else’s time was going into planning. Cal wasn’t much use in that aspect right now. His time was best spent trying to keep a clear head. He would need it for the mission. Only once the holocron was safe on the Mantis could he allow himself to completely fall apart. There would be time to put him back together again after.

Right now, he was kneeling on the floor of the engine room, trying to keep himself in the semi-meditative state where he could still function. He could only manage it with the help of the pounding bass of the Agasar blasting in his ears, the familiar songs drowning out whatever vitriol Trilla’s echoes were spitting at him.

While he couldn’t sink into the Force as deeply as he’d like, he could still sense everyone on board. Greez was a familiar presence by now, warm and steady. Currently he was sitting in the cockpit with Merrin. Her presence in the Force was different from anything he’d ever experienced before. It was stronger than Greez’s but threaded with a shifting darkness, coiled power hidden behind smoke. And then there was Cere, no longer an empty void but a shining light. Her connection to the Force wasn’t always the steadiest, wavering on occasion, but she was never absent completely.

For a while he simply observed the three of them around the ship, keeping himself occupied while he focused on tamping down the echoes. He could almost fool himself into believing everything was alright like this. That if he emerged from meditation and took off his headphones he would be able to go about his day as though nothing was wrong.

Maybe one day he could, but not for a while yet.

He sensed Cere heading for the rear of the ship and assumed she was going to her cabin, only for her to keep going, hovering at the door to the engine room. He couldn’t hear her knocking, but she knew he was aware she was there. If it was urgent she would come in and try to rouse him. She didn’t, so he took his time, slowly easing himself back to reality while keeping the voices as under control as h could manage.

After a couple of minutes, he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright overhead lights. He turned to see Cere leaning against the doorframe. He caught a brief flash of sadness in her eyes, gone in a blink back to her usual neutral expression. He stopped the music and took his headphones off, letting them rest around his neck.

“How are you holding up?” she asked once he could hear her.

“Not too bad. Haven’t had any flashbacks since this morning,” he shrugged.

“You didn’t eat anything again.”

“I’m not really hungry.” With everything else going on, taking care of himself in a more physical sense had fallen to the wayside. While he’d gotten better about eating regular meals since leaving Bracca, he still didn’t view it as an absolute necessity and therefore it had been one of the first things he’d stopped putting effort into. He had very little appetite to begin with and there was no telling when another echo would surface that would have his stomach churning. He’d much rather go hungry than throw up again.

Cere gave a worried hum but didn’t comment. “Well, I made you tea,” she said, holding out a steaming mug. She’d no doubt added a generous dollop of honey to it, both to tempt him to actually drink it and not let it get cold, as well as to give his body something to work with. He stood, his legs stiff from being in one position for several hours and took the mug from her.

Burning. She was burning alive. The hot metal pressed against her skin, branding her for life. Make it stop! Please!

“Easy, you’re alright,” Cere said, catching his mug when he suddenly let it go. “Got it?”

He nodded, keeping a tighter hold on it as she passed it back. It was warm in his hands, but nowhere near burning. He held it in both hands, bringing it closer to his chest.

“Echo?”

“Yeah.” He hated how small he sounded.

“Think you could manage sitting in the lounge for a bit?”

He nodded, following her through. It didn’t escape his notice as they passed the kitchen that various snacks had been left on the table, including the ration bars Greez was usually so against. The thought of eating anything turned his stomach, but he did grab a half-empty packet of plain crackers before following Cere down the steps. It was worth a try.

“We’ve come up with a plan,” Cere said as she sat down. The caf table was littered with scraps of flimsi and roughly drawn maps. Trilla’s lightsaber lay on the edge of the mess. Since he’d already absorbed all its echoes it sat there inert. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be happy to fling it into the nearest star. The only reason they hadn’t was because Cere was planning on using it. They would need all the help they could get after all, and a way to deflect blaster bolts was an invaluable asset.

Cal had to push the sheets of flimsi to the side to make a space for his mug, careful not to touch the lightsaber just in case. Cere tried to sort the sheets into something resembling a neat pile, shuffling them to find one in particular. While he waited, he grabbed a cracker from the packet and took a bite.

She was so thirsty. They never gave her enough water, only the bare minimum to keep her alive. She would give anything for a drink, but she had to stay strong. This was only another way they hoped to break her. She would not give in. Not now. Not when she’d already lasted for so long. Someone would save her soon. She was sure of it.

Cal coughed, the cracker ash in his mouth. He took a sip of his tea to wash it down, taking the echo with it. He was fine, he told himself. He was on the Mantis, he had access to anything he needed, and he wasn’t a prisoner. The tea was almost too sweet, but it was exactly what he needed to chase away the memory.

Cere was watching him carefully from the corner of her eye but didn’t bring attention to it. “We’ll drop out of hyperspace at the edge of the Mustafar system,” she began, pointing to a chart of the system. “We’ll be out of range of their scanners for a while. It’ll be heavily fortified from orbit, but Merrin says she knows a ritual that can mask out approach.”

“How are we going to get past their defences?” he asked. Merrin’s magick was certainly impressive, but he doubted she had the power to teleport an entire ship.

“We’ll take the escape pods. We can program them to land close to the Fortress. The whole moon is one giant ocean so we can swim inside through the maintenance tunnels below the surface.”

Cal couldn’t supress the shudder that ran through him at the mention of the escape pods, for once one of his own traumatic memories bubbling to the surface. His breath caught in his throat which he tried to cover with another cough, but Cere noticed anyway. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m, uh, not exactly fond of escape pods.” Cere raised an eyebrow. “Master Tapal died before we reached the surface.” Further detail was unnecessary, and he really didn’t want to get into it right now. Not when he was already so fragile.

“A pity you weren’t faster.”

“Keep going,” he prompted.

“Right. Once we’re inside we’ll split up. She pointed to one of the other maps, this one a rough floor plan of the level they planned to infiltrate. Cere had drawn it as best she could from memory and while it was on the sketchy side it was good enough for their needs. “I’ll head to the sector’s central command to open the way for you. I should be able to locate where the holocron is being kept and I’ll direct you to it. Wherever it is, it will be well guarded. Will you be up for the fight?”

“I’ll manage,” he said, trying to sound like he believed it. What choice did he have. They could not allow the Inquisitors to open the holocron. Every single child on that list was now at risk, a countdown set in motion until the contents were revealed and their identities discovered.

And it was his fault they had it at all.

“You can’t stop the Inquisitorius.”

Cere wasn’t looking much steadier than himself, anxiously gripping the edge of the sofa, her gaze fixed beyond the maps on the table. “I never thought I’d be going back there,” she said quietly. Cal wasn’t sure he was even supposed to hear it.

“You won’t be alone this time.”

“There’s no point resisting, Trilla.”

“You’ll have a friend with you.”

“Jedi scum.”

“We’ll make it out together.”

“There’s no escape.”

“With the holocron.”

“The Empire will get what it wants.”

“Would you shut up!” he snapped, glaring off to the side. The voices dulled briefly, but it wouldn’t last. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as he took a deep, trembling breath. He was starting to get a headache from the noise and would have to put his headphones back on soon. “Sorry,” he mumbled to Cere.

He expected mostly concern from her, and while it was there, there was something else in her expression. “I know it probably doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’ve come a long way from Bracca,” she said. “You’re dealing with this much better than you would have when we first met.”

“I’m still shouting at ghosts.”

“Yes, but you’re not lost in them. You can still tell they’re not real, can’t you?”

Cal hadn’t really thought about it like that. It had been weeks since he’d lost himself, not since Ordo Eris. Yes he could still hear them, but Cere was right. He always knew they were only in his head.

“You were right about not being alone,” she said while he turned this revelation over in his thoughts. “But I won’t just have a friend.” She got up from the sofa, leaving Cal confused.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She stood in the middle of the lounge and turned to face him. “I’ll have a Jedi with me,” she announced. The Force prickled as Trilla’s lightsaber wobbled on the table before flying to her hand. “Kneel.”

Cal, compelled to move, got up to kneel before her. Surely this wasn’t what he thought it was? She held the hilt out to the side and activated it, staring at her Padawan’s corrupted blade before her gaze fell back on him.

“By the right of the Council,” she began, bringing the blade down to rest above his shoulders. “By the will of the Force. Cal Kestis, rise, Jedi knight.”

For a blissful handful of seconds, the noise stopped. There was no room in his head for echoes with the rush of his own elation. He could hardly believe this was real, staring up at Cere in disbelief. She was smiling at him, lightsaber now deactivated.

She may not have been a Council member, but with the rest of the Order dead, she was the highest authority left. If she thought he was worthy, who was he to question her judgement. He stood, no longer a failed Padawan, but a Jedi knight.

“You are ready,” she said, fire in her eyes.

“So are you.” They would face the upcoming battle together, not as a scrapper and a mercenary, but as Jedi.

Cal really hated escape pods. It was necessary for their plan, but by the stars he did not want to get in. They didn’t have long. Merrin could only hold the concealment spell long enough for Greez to fly down to the upper atmosphere and back up in an arc, and they had already started descending.

Cere was making last minute checks while Cal kept his distance, standing by the ladder. He’d tried meditating earlier and had managed to reach a point where he could once more suppress the voices. It was just as hard as it was back on Dathomir due to the strength of Trilla’s echoes, but he was able to keep a clear head for the first time in days. He’ll be exhausted later, but it was necessary.

“Time to go,” Cere said, turning to face him. “You have your rebreather?”

He held it up for her to see before tucking it in his belt. BD-1 gave an encouraging beep from where he was perched on Cal’s shoulder when he hesitated. Cere stepped up to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “You can do this,” she said, attempting to calm his nerves.

He took a deep breath and gave her a quick nod. He didn’t really have much of a choice anyway. This was the only way they were getting to the surface. The only way to save those children on that list. Cere gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before getting in her pod. Cal followed and got in the other. “May the Force be with you,” she said.

“And with you,” he replied. They sealed their pods and waited. Greez will check the scanner in the cockpit before deploying them, waiting for a gap in the patrol they could slip through. Merrin could only hide the Mantis, not the escape pods too. They were small enough that they wouldn’t be detected by Imperial scanners, but they could still be seen by anything flying by close enough.

The wait was the worst part. There wasn’t any room to move in the pod, the sound of his own breathing loud in his ears. Any moment the floor was going to drop out from under him, but there was no telling when. In the opposite pod Cere had her eyes closed. Through the Force he could feel her nerves, but she wasn’t letting them get the better of her. He wished he had her control.

BD whistled at him from where he was tucking in behind him, offering what little comfort he could. “I’m alright,” he said, taking another deep breath. It was all he had time for. A flash in the Force was the only warning he got before the escape pods were released. His stomach dropped as he found himself in freefall. He didn’t even have time to cry out, his mind going entirely blank save for the rush of panic.

It wasn’t echoes filling his mind this time but flashes of his own past. Being trapped in the escape pod with his master’s body, hurtling towards Bracca, clutching a broken lightsaber to his chest. He braced himself against the walls as the pod began to shake, trying to keep his breathing even against the choking panic.

The shaking only got worse as they entered the lower atmosphere, inky blackness replaced by pale red light. Cal closed his eyes and reached into the Force for some semblance of calm. This moon was tainted, steeped in darkness so much worse than Dathomir, but the light could still be found. He could faintly sense Cere, her presence muted by the distance between them. He kept his focus on her, an anchor in the chaos right up until he hit the water.

He hit the wall hard, breaking his concentration. It didn’t matter though. He’d made it into the ocean in one piece. The pod slowly continued to sink, bubbles from the impact rushing towards the surface. “Here we go,” he said to BD before putting his breather in his mouth. BD shifted on his back, hanging on tightly before Cal opened the door.

Chapter Text

The Fortress radiated suffering like a star. Try as he might, it was impossible to ignore. It crashed into him relentlessly, wave after wave drowning him in despair. Trilla’s echoes compounded it; sharp, suffocating fear rising from within, stealing his breath and breaking his concentration as he fought through the fortress’s defences. It made him slow, his movements uncoordinated. It was only the will of the Force that he hadn’t been killed yet, scraping through a few too many near misses for comfort.

Cere had sent him the location of the holocron, a central interrogation chamber. Despite never having seen one himself, Cal could picture it clearly in his mind. The dark walls, heat welling from below. And the chair…

“Please! Make it stop!”

Cal reflected a bolt back at the last stormtrooper blocking his path. It went wide, but still struck him in the shoulder, taking him out. Panting heavily, Cal reach a hand out to brace himself on the wall.

“I don’t know! I promise you, I don’t. Please, let me go!”

He recoiled as though burnt, pain radiating up his arm. The cells were covered in echoes, powerful and painful enough that he could hear them all screaming at him. It didn’t matter if he touched anything or not; he witnessed them all the same. Panic squeezed his chest, its tendrils wrapping between his ribs, crushing him until he couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t do this. I can’t.”

The electron gate deactivating.

A dark figure approaching

“I told you! Now please, let me die!”

Curled up on the floor, too weak to move.

Waiting for the release of death.

“I don’t know anything about Cordova,” she sobbed, though her eyes remained dry, long since running out of tears to shed. Her throat ached from screaming, breathless and exhausted.

“Take her back to the cells. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“No,” she croaked. “Please, no.”

A worried beep pulled Cal out of the haze. Fresh panic gripped him when he looked up, the sight of the red gates sending a sharp spike of fear though his core. He couldn’t breathe, air coming to him in short, sharp gasps. He collapsed to his knees, his legs unable to hold his weight.

Echoes flashed before his eyes. Jedi and sympathisers locked in cells, degraded, tortured, and ultimately either turned or killed. Their screams, long since silenced, reverberating in his skull.

A shrill cry from BD briefly brought him a semblance of clarity. A purge trooper was slowly making his way down the steps towards him, electrostaff held at his side. His cruel, modulated laugh cut through the noise.

“No! Not like this! Anything but this!”

Swallowing his fear, Cal tightened his grip on his lightsaber and hauled himself to his feet, igniting both blades. A phantom burn of electricity riddled his body as the trooper’s staff crackled, cruel arcs of purple splitting the air. He wanted to scream, but his throat was already raw.

“Who was helping you escape?”

“No one.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Cal reached for the Force, begging it to help him as the trooper lunged to attack. He stepped back, bringing his lightsaber up to block even as his vision blurred between the present and the past. He pushed back with the help of the Force, trying to make some space between them. The trooper easily kept his footing, already bringing his staff around for another strike.

“I don’t know! I don’t know! Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because you do know. You just need a little more persuading.”

The air was knocked from his lungs as Cal tumbled down a short flight of stairs. BD screeched in his ear, clinging to his back for dear life. He landed with a thud, his lightsaber knocked from his hand. The purge trooper looked down at him with distain while he regained his bearings. He couldn’t tell if the cruel laughter was real or from an echo. He stumbled back to his feet, calling his dropped hilt to his hand and igniting the blades once more.

“Breathe.”

He needed to stay calm if he wanted to survive this. He couldn’t let this place get to him. He could do this. He had to. To save all those children on that list.

“Trust only in the Force.”

He took his best attempt at a deep breath, then another. He just needed to finish this fight, then he could figure out his next move.

The trooper leapt off the platform, staff coming down in an overhead arc. Cal waited until the last moment to sidestep, slashing the trooper across the back. A glancing blow, enough to mar his plastoid armour but not enough to kill him. If the way he stumbled was anything to go by, it still hurt.

Cal closed the distance between them, aiming to end this quickly. The trooper staggered away, keeping just out of range as the tip of his blade sliced through the space where his head had just been. Cal wasn’t quite fast enough when he came in with a counter, dodging just a fraction too slow. The tip of the staff grazed his leg, sending a shock of pain racing through his body. He stumbled away, leg burning, pushing back with the Force.

The trooper didn’t give him much room to breathe, swinging his staff around and jabbing at Cal from a distance. His movements weren’t as fluid as others Cal had fought, struggling with the burn across his back. Still, Cal was also not in the best state to fight so he supposed that made them even. Despite the burn, the trooper danced around Cal, making it nearly impossible to land a blow between the incoming flurry of blows and evasive manoeuvres. It was all Cal could do to keep blocking his attacks.

Remembering how Malicos had fought on Dathomir, Cal disconnected Cere’s half of his lightsaber and threw it at him, using the Force to guide it to its target. Not expecting a flying lightsaber to the face, the trooper was too slow to deflect it properly, cutting deep into his arm. Cal ducked under his retaliating strike, sliding on his knees before catching the thrown blade and stabbing the other through the trooper’s chest.

The purge trooper went limp, dropping to the ground with a clatter as his armour hit metal. No longer having the fight to focus on the present, the flimsy mental barrier he’d clung to began to crumble, echoes flooding in again.

Pain. Fear. Despair. They were never going to leave here.

There was no one left to save them.

Screaming. Burning.

The stench of blood and tortured flesh.

“Cal, can you hear me?” Cere said through the comm.

“Yeah,” he gasped in a sudden crash of relief. By the Force was it good to hear her voice. “Yeah I hear you.”

“I’m near your position but I’m sealed behind a blast door. Can you find a control panel nearby?”

“O-on it.” Clipping his lightsaber back on to his belt, he dragged himself up the steps to the higher levels. The cells were all devoid of prisoners, but that didn’t mean they were empty. He could do nothing against the sheer number of echoes pressing in aside from hold his ground and try to maintain what was left of his shredded mental defences.

BD hopped off his back and scuttled over to a control panel, just below an observation window. He jumped up, jamming his scomp link into the port and began working. Cal followed his instructions, pressing buttons when told to do so.

The doors on the other side of the window opened. Cere came marching in from one side, purge troopers from the other. There wasn’t anything Cal could do to help from this side, but Cere didn’t need him. She was a whirlwind of red, Trilla’s blade in one hand, her blaster in the other. It was over in seconds.

Cere wasted no time in going to the control panel on her side of the glass, sparing Cal a glance through the window. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

“It’s… bad in here. There’s so many echoes,” he said, unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice. “How about you? This can’t be easy.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she said, turning her attention to the controls in front of her. “It does feel good to tear this place apart.”

“You were kept here, weren’t you In one of these cells?”

“You haven’t touched any of the echoes, have you?” she asked, her head snapping up to watch him carefully.

“Not exactly. But they’re strong enough I can hear them anyway.” The fear pressing in was getting to him again, but it wasn’t going to get any easier. Not when he still needed to get into the interrogation chamber. “I’m sorry you had to come back here.”

“And I’m sorry you had to be here at all. But we didn’t have much of a choice, did we?”

While he waited for Cere to open the way to the interrogation chamber, he tried to assess his injuries. All things considered, he’d come out of the fight so far relatively unscathed. His head was the biggest problem, his thoughts clouded and fracturing. The only thing keeping him together right now was the mission. He shifted his weight, hissing as the burn on his leg made itself known.

“You’re hurt,” Cere said, watching him once more.

“It’s nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “BD?” The droid quickly scanned Cal’s leg and reported he’d suffered a large burn. “Hardly nothing then.”

“I’ve had worse. I can keep going. I have to.”

“I know,” she said sadly. “I will be taking a look at it once we’re back on the Mantis.” Her tone left no room for argument.

They both knew this mission was far from over. Something could go wrong at any moment. There was no guarantee that either of them would make it back alive. By they had no choice but to try, to keep going and hope they would see each other again on the other side. “Yeah. Alright, I can agree to that,” he said softly.

Something large whirred to life deeper into the cell block. The sound filled him with sinking dread so deep he almost retched. The door to the interrogation chamber was open. “I haven’t seen any sign of Trilla yet, but I know she’s here,” Cere said. “I’m going to draw away reinforcements. You just need to focus on getting the holocron. Don’t wait for me, head straight back to the surface like we discussed.”

“Good luck,” he said, willing it into the Force as though he could manifest it.

“And you.” With that she headed out the opposite door from where she’d come, weapons in hand. There was no reason for Cal to delay. The sooner he retrieved the holocron, the sooner he could leave this wretched place behind.

It was hard to fight the fear suffocating him, but once he got moving, he couldn’t allow himself to stop. The door was huge, a gaping hole as tall as the cell block opening out to a vast chamber lit by the lava flows below. The interrogation chamber itself lay before him, suspended in the air from above. The whole thing looked like an enormous mouth, waiting to swallow him whole.

Cal stepped through the threshold onto what looked like a turbolift. It wasn’t currently active, but it might lead to a quicker escape route, bringing them closer to the surface.

A firm grip on her arms prevented her from escaping. Though she knew now there was nowhere to run. Not if she wanted to leave alive. But living was no longer a priority. She just needed the pain to stop. She couldn’t help but wonder at what point she would die if she flung herself over the edge into the molten rock below.

Cal stumbled, bracing himself against the console. He hadn’t noticed the echo there, blending in with the background noise. BD asked if he was alright. “Give me a sec, okay buddy?” he grit out past the drill through his head. He needed to centre himself, but it was impossible with all the echoes pressing in. He tried to find the fractured line between himself and everything else, building it back up until the noise became just barely tolerable.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, pushing himself upright. The walk across the bridge was impossibly long but the further he was from the cells, the quieter the voices became. About half way he realised he was left with only Trilla’s echoes once more. The strongest emotion was still fear, but there were others that were much darker. She hadn’t just been a prisoner here, but an interrogator and jailer too. She had stood in that chamber and inflicted the very same pain she had suffered and felt no remorse. It had even been a point of pride the first time she had made someone beg.

The mere thought of it turned his stomach but he pushed on, only stopping to open the door to the chamber. The Force roiled around him in warning. There was no one inside, the chamber empty. The interrogation chair stood in the centre of the room on its own platform, suspended above the fiery chasm. He couldn’t see the holocron, but it had to be close.

He hurried over to the control panel, hoping to find out where it might be hidden. He didn’t get very far in his search before the Force’s warning intensified.

“Above!”

In one fluid move, he pulled his lightsaber to his hand while ducking out of the way, bringing it up in time to block the bleeding blade aimed at his head. He locked blades with Trilla, staring into her hateful eyes. With a shove, she unleashed a flurry of blows, barely giving Cal any time to react. He tried to swing at her, only for her to send him flying with the Force. He landed on his back, his legs carrying on without him until he rolled over backwards, landing in a crouch.

Looking at her gave him a strange sense of déjà vu. The echoes still in his head rebelled against her presence, trying to assert themselves as reality when she was standing before him. The dissonance drove a spike of pain through his skull, like someone had shoved an icepick through his eye.

The real Trilla adjusted her grip, widening her stance. The movement sparked familiarity, somewhere deep in the echoes buried in his mind.

She’s going to lunge.

Anticipating the move, Cal was able to sidestep with room to spare when she did strike, bringing his lightsaber down as he moved. She blocked, but he could predict that too. The echoes of torture had taken up so much of his mental capacity, he hadn’t realised he’d also absorbed those of her training as an Inquisitor. She was made into a weapon to execute the Empire’s will, her fighting style different from what she was taught as a Jedi. Unfamiliar and unpredictable to her opponents. But not to Cal. Not anymore.

She came at him with a ferocity he hadn’t seen from her before, her blade little more than a streak of red, sparking when it met his own. It was a risky move, but he allowed some of those echoes to slip past his defences, helping him identify what she might do next. He couldn’t stay on the defensive forever. He was already tired from fighting his way through the Fortress, the last of his reserves quickly draining.

This fight was different though. He knew now what had happened to her, the betrayal and agony that had brought her to this point. He’d like to think that he’d resist for longer, but this room was made to break Jedi. This wasn’t her fault. He had to at least offer her a way out.

He pushed her with the Force, giving him a little room to breathe. She only stumbled a couple of paces away, but it was enough for him to go on the offensive. Just as he knew her moves, she knew his. He wasn’t aiming to harm, not yet, but he kept the pressure on, Forcing her to take several steps back towards the middle of the chamber and away from the edge.

He swung his blade around, only for her to meet it. He bore down, trapping her in place. “Trilla, I saw what you went through,” he said, looking her in the eye past the sparks. “You’ve experienced great suffering. But it’s not too late to let it go.”

“Let go?” she spat. “I’m stronger now because of the pain.” With great effort she threw him off. He held his lightsaber ready to block an incoming attack, but she held her ground, reaching for her belt. “I knew you’d come back for this,” she said, holding up the holocron to admire it. It glinted in the orange light, taunting him. She only held it for a moment before securing it back on her belt. “You’ll never leave this place alive!”

She threw her lightsaber at him, both blades whirling through the air. He parried, the force of the blow shaking his bones. She pulled it back towards herself, running to meet it. She flipped in the air, slashing at Cal as she came back down in a graceful arc.

He couldn’t save her, he realised bitterly. She would not stop until he was dead, and then she would hunt Cere down. He was merely an obstacle to her, preventing her from finishing what she’d started. Only one of them would leave this chamber alive. He had to make sure it was him. Not just for his own sake, but for Cere, Greez, Merrin, and every name contained within the holocron.

She attacked him with renewed ferocity, her moves becoming more irregular and harder to predict. He matched her as best he could, both now trying to end this as soon as possible. She jabbed her lightsaber at him several times, Cal managing to block each time, but only just. Then he went on the offensive before she could try a different approach, slashing back and forth.

Just as she was winding up to push him back once more, he reached into the Force and shoved. Trilla lost her balance, wheeling around as she tried to keep her footing. It was all the opening he needed. Cal lunged forward, jamming the tip of his blade into her right shoulder. She screamed, dropping her lightsaber and falling to her knees.

He could put an end to this. He could deal the killing blow and never have to fear the Second Sister again. He looked down at her, curled in on herself but defiant, staring him down despite the pain. He’d lived through so much of her suffering, knew exactly what had led to her fall. He couldn’t bring himself to blame her for it. She was just another scared Padawan at the end of it all. Just like him.

He pulled the holocron to his hand and only once it was in his grasp did he extinguish his blade. He kept his eyes on Trilla, just in case she tried something.

“Cal!” Cere called from behind, footsteps ringing on the floor as she ran to join him. She stopped at his side; eyes glued to Trilla.

“I have the holocron,” he said, holding it out for her to see. She only glanced at it, her gaze sliding up to meet his eyes.

“I need to do this,” she said. She didn’t need Cal’s permission, but she asked for it anyway. He nodded, taking a few steps back to give them space. Cere took the few short steps to stand before her former Padawan. “It’s over Trilla.”

“Nothing is ever truly over,” she spat.

“This fight is over. I know the darkness that is eating you up inside and every day we choose to either feed it or fight it.”

Trilla snarled as she spoke. “It’s too late, Cere!”

“No. It’s not. I know the choices that I made took all your choices away. And I have failed you Trilla.” Trilla stilled at the admission, the trapped predator bleeding away. Cere dropped to one knee, now eye lever with her. “I failed you. And I am so very sorry.”

Trilla only looked at her for a second before turning away. Cal thought she might just stay there, curled up on the floor, but then she began getting to her feet. It looked like it took a great deal of effort, her left hand still pressed over the wound in her shoulder.

Cere rose with her, extending a hand out in a peace offering. Trilla glanced at it before looking back at Cere’s face. “I’ve carried so much hate for you,” she said, a simple statement of fact, for once lacking any bite.

“Danger.”

Trilla didn’t look like she was about to do anything, but clearly sensed something too, her entire demeanour shifting. Cal looked around the room but couldn’t see anything obvious. It was just the three of them here. No troopers, no Inquisitors, but the sense of cold dread only grew. Trilla stood up straight, her breath coming in short gasps.

A heavy footstep, followed by another, echoing from above. Cere began to back away while Trilla remained fixed in place. Cal could hear mechanical breathing now as a dark figure emerged from the smoke. It looked like a man, clad in all black, a shiny helmet obscuring his face. He radiated hatred and darkness, spewing it into the Force.

“Runrunrunrunrun!”

“That doesn’t look good,” he said to Cere, unsure of exactly what he should do. Did they stand and fight, or did he heed the voices’ warning and get away as fast as he could.

“It isn’t,” Cere said, keeping her voice low, a slight tremor in the words. “It’s him.”

Cal remembered her mentioning a dark figure that had appeared once while she was being tortured. She’d only spoken of him the one time and with so much fear he had dared not ask more about him.

The man, if that was indeed what he was, dropped down from the platform above, shaking the ground beneath him.  Cere ignited her lightsaber, Cal following suit as they backed away. The figure towered over Trilla who remained perfectly still. She was no longer panicking, seemingly resigned to her fate.

“You have failed me, Inquisitor,” he said, his voice heavily modulated. He activated his blade, fear making Trilla’s eyes go wide.

She sought out Cere, looking to her master for the last time. “Avenge us!” she called out as he brought his lightsaber down. She was dead before she hit the ground.

“Cal, run!” Cere shouted, even as she charged towards the monster. All he could do was watch helplessly, his head filled with screaming and a desperate, clawing urge to get away.

“RUNRUNRUNRUNRUN!”

Cere leapt at the monster. He didn’t even bother to raise his blade, simply tossing Cere aside with a flick of his hand. Cal watched in horror as she fell over the side of the platform, tumbling into the chasm below.

“No! Cere!” he cried, the words tearing out of him.

The monster fixed his gaze on Cal; concentrated fury directed right at him. “You would be wise to surrender.”

“Yeah…” he said, tearing his gaze away from where Cere had fallen. Every instinct and echo was telling him to flee. “Probably.” He’d never been one for thinking things through, acting on impulse. He stood his ground, adjusting his grip. He could avenge Cere, Trilla, the countless others who had suffered and died here.

He charged at the monster, bringing his lightsaber down in an overhead strike. He deflected it easily, barely having to put any effort into the action before seizing Cal by the throat with the Force. He dropped his lightsaber, clawing at the invisible pressure crushing his windpipe. “You cannot escape,” he said, his fist tightening.

There wasn’t anything Cal could do. He couldn’t use the Force to release himself, the hold on his throat too powerful. He was quickly running out of air. It wouldn’t be long until he suffocated and blacked out. He had no idea if he would die right here or wake up in the interrogation chair.

As Cal cast about for a way out, he spotted a large pipe that ran overhead. He had no idea what it was for, but there was a generator attached. If he could pull it down, it might distract the monster long enough for him to escape. He reached out to the Force, his grasp on it slipping further every second he went without air. It was now or never.

He pulled and the generator tore free, a section of pipe coming with it. The monster must have sensed it coming as without turning from Cal, he stopped it in midair. Cal’s vision was starting to go black, his senses dulling. The next thing he knew he was being tossed through the air. The pressure around his neck vanished and he sucked in a greedy breath of air. The next second his shoulder collided with the floor, sending him rolling.

BD screeched in his ear, telling him to get up and move. Cal had barely managed to get to his hands and knees before he could see why his friend was so insistent. The generator flew towards his head. He dropped, narrowly avoiding having his head caved in. There was no time to get his bearings as the panels that made up the floor began to vibrate before tearing free.

Cal pulled his lightsaber to his hand from where he’d dropped it and scrambled to his feet. As soon as he held it, he ran, finally giving in to the demands of the echoes. He relied on the Force to tell him when to duck, panels and debris still flying past him. He didn’t dare look back; too afraid he might see that dark figure looming above him.

Sections of the bridge began to collapse, forcing Cal to take a slightly less conventional route, climbing up fallen sections and warped beams. He sprinted the last bit to the turbolift, sliding to a halt by the controls. BD hopped onto it before he’d even fully stopped, slamming the button to get them moving.

Cal barely had time to take a breath before a red blade erupted through the door. He stumbled away, his back hitting the wall. There wasn’t time for the monster to cut all the way through, the lift ascending, leaving him behind in the depths.

Cal wanted nothing more than to collapse on the floor, adrenaline and exertion taking their toll. All he could hear were panicked screams. And all he could see was Cere, disappearing over the edge into the molten abyss. BD gave a mournful whistle, pattering over to him. Cal didn’t know what to say to him, so he simply scooped him up and held him.

The reprieve only lasted until the turbolift came to a stop and the doors opened. They weren’t out of danger yet. Only once they were back on the Mantis and into hyperspace could they stop. BD climbed onto Cal’s shoulder and with a deep breath, Cal set off down the tunnels.

It was all glass here, looking out into the seemingly endless expanse of murky blue. It didn’t look like anyone else was around, but he couldn’t be sure. His connection to the Force was shredded, the only thing he was receiving from it a jumble of memories and noise. He moved swiftly but carefully, not wanting to be stuck here any longer than necessary.

“Hey, kid, you read me?” Greez’s voice crackled through the comm. This deep below the surface the connection was weak, but it was unmistakably him. “They’re not responding.”

“They will. I am certain of it,” Merrin said.

“Greez! I’m here!” he said, sounding desperate to his own ears. “I’m heading towards the surface. Be ready. I have the holocron. But Cere… she didn’t make it Greez.” He had to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He couldn’t break now, not when freedom was so close.

“Cere… Just- just get out of there Cal. We’ll be waiting.” The line cut out, presumably so Greez could focus on bringing the Mantis down to the surface to pick him up, and once more he was on his own.

He kept winding his way through the seemingly endless tunnel. It didn’t branch aside for a handful of maintenance rooms, leaving him with only one path forward. He had no idea how long he walked for, but eventually he came to a sealed door. He was about to look for a control panel when it opened on its own.

The monster was back, lightsaber swinging at Cal’s head. Fear pulsed in the Force even as he called his hilt to his hand and caught the blade with his own. He barely managed to deflect but lost his footing against a second, more powerful blow. He rolled away but wasn’t fast enough to get back up to his feet. The monster bore his blade down against Cal’s, giving it all his strength. Cal could barely hold him back, unable to tap into the Force for help.

BD climbed up his arm and onto the monster, jamming his electroprod into the gap between his helmet and shoulder. Electricity arced through the monster, giving Cal a chance to get to his feet. BD quickly hopped away, just as Cal jabbed his lightsaber into the monster’s side. He grabbed his hilt with one hand, resisting Cal’s attempts to drive it in further. With a burst of the Force, he threw Cal several meters away, sending his lightsaber with it.

He landed hard on his side, rolling several times before coming to a stop. His entire body radiated pain, but he pushed through it, reaching out to his lightsaber and begging the Force to let him pull it towards him. It stopped half way, caught in midair. Looking up, the monster had his hand held out, keeping it in place.

“Surrender the holocron,” he demanded.

“I’ll never give it to you!” Cal shouted back.

“We shall see.” With a flick of his fingers, his lightsaber turned in the air, Cere’s half of the hilt now pointing directly at him. It activated, and despite Cal’s best efforts to push it away, it plunged deep into his chest.

He couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from his throat as fire erupted in his chest. Nothing existed outside of it, the world narrowing down to this singular point of blazing white. He wasn’t sure if he somehow managed to deactivate it or the monster simply got bored, but the blade extinguished, and the hilt dropped. All Cal could do was gasp uselessly, unable to even bring his hands closer to the wound to protect it. Distantly he was aware of BD appearing beside him, beeping frantically.

The monster began to stride towards him, cape billowing like a great cloud of pure evil. This was it. This was where Cal died. He would take the holocron and all those children would be hunted down and slaughtered, and it was all because he wasn’t fast enough.

It always came down to that, didn’t it.

Through his darkening vision he could see the monster pause, turning to look at something behind him. A red blade came flying through the door behind him. He easily deflected it, sending it towards the glass wall of the tunnel only for someone to catch it. None other than Cere landed in front of him, holding the monster back.

“I won’t let you take those children,” she snarled.

Cal struggled to follow the fight that followed, a rapid exchange of blows. BD apparently took it upon himself to do what he could to help and injected a stim into Cal’s neck. Pain flared bright in his chest for a moment as the drugs took effect before dulling ever so slightly. If he survived this he was going to need something a hell of a lot stronger. But for now it did the trick, allowing him to move once more.

His attention was brought back to the present as Cere went flying down the tunnel towards him, landing only a couple of meters away. She didn’t look at him, focused on the approaching threat, but she did move to stand in front of him. “Such hatred,” the monster said, steadily advancing. “You would have made an excellent Inquisitor.”

“She’s stronger than that!” he called back, barely managing the breath required.

Cere held her arms out before bringing them in. Cal felt the change in pressure, the tunnel around them creaking as she used the Force to crush everything in sight. The monster fell to one knee, head bowed.

“No. No!” he called as he struggled to his feet grabbing his lightsaber on the way. He had to brace himself on the wall to remain standing, fire stealing his breath, his vision tunnelling.

“Yes. Strong with the dark side,” the monster hissed. He rose with visible effort, taking a shaky step towards them. “I can feel it inside of her.”

“Cere,” Cal called, his voice rough and cracking. “Cere!” He had no idea if she could hear him, but he had to get through to her. He’d already lost Tapal and accepted that his death had been out of his control. But this? No, this time he could make a difference. He could still save her.

“Listen to me,” he shouted above the ominous groaning of the tunnel. “You still have a choice. You don’t have to do this. Please Cere.”

He could see the moment his words registered. The tension bled out of her, stumbling back and looking around in a daze. No longer having to resist the crushing pressure of the Force, the monster quickly closed the gap. Before Cal could even shout a warning, Cere was already raising her hands. The air around them rippled and warped, the red lightsaber striking a solid shield.

He reared back, this time jabbing the end of the blade into Cere’s defence. Cal could see how much effort it was taking to maintain. She wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither was he. They needed to get out of there now. They couldn’t get past him, and the tunnel only led back to the turbolift. Even if they tried it, there was no way Cal could run. He could barely even stand.

As he looked for a solution, he realised the floor was wet. Casting his gaze around, he saw Cere had cracked the glass and it was now leaking. It would only take one good pull of the Force for the whole thing to collapse.

The monster struck again, Cere stumbling against it this time. There was no time to warn her of what he was about to do. Reaching for whatever reserves he had left, he called on the Force and pulled. The glass shattered, water rushing in. The monster staggered back, using the Force to hold back the flood.

Cere collapsed immediately, utterly spent. Cal barely managed to catch her, sticking his breather in her mouth before using the Force to swim through the current and into the ocean beyond.

Swimming was agony. The slightest movement tore at the hole burnt through his chest, his lungs already aching from lack of oxygen. He could hardly see the surface, patches of light shining far above. He wasn’t going to make it, he realised. It wouldn’t matter how hard he tried; he would never breach the surface before he ran out of air. Already his vision was going grey, his lungs begging him to take a breath. All he could do was try to make sure Cere made it.

He kicked as much as he was able, keeping one arm looped around Cere. It was hard to tell how much of a difference he was really making, his body rapidly going cold and numb. Below, the monster was too preoccupied with the flooding tunnel to follow them. They’d made it. At least Cal would die free.

He lost the battle against his body, breathing in salty water, flooding his lungs. He coughed but it didn’t make a difference. This was it. His vision was failing rapidly, the lights above going dark. The last thing he saw was a bright flash of green and a hand reaching down.

Chapter Text

Dark. It was dark here. Wherever here was. And loud. Why was it so loud? Can’t see anything. Where was the noise coming from?

It didn’t make sense, the noise. A jumble of voices all shouting over each other. A wall of sound, indecipherable.

He tried to call out to someone, anyone. There had to be someone out there, right? Someone had to be making all that noise, even if he couldn’t see them. Maybe they could help him.

Fire engulfed him so completely he was pretty sure he ceased existing. Maybe that was a good thing. If there was no him, then he couldn’t be in pain.

Who was he anyway?

Time meant little here; there was only pain and noise and dark. There was no telling how long the fire lasted, but it gradually died down and he was still here. He wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not but maybe now he could figure out who he was.

There were only two things he could be certain of at this point. He was in a dark void full of invisible voices, and he could feel pain. Did that mean he had a body? But if he did, why couldn’t he feel anything aside from that horrible glowing ache lodged deep in his core.

He didn’t dare trying to call into the void again. It wasn’t worth the risk. The fire might kill him this time. Besides, he doubted anyone would be able to hear him over the din.

He tried to listen, sorting through the noise and picking out individual voices.

“—went to sign it but by the time I looked up they were—”

“—a terrible idea. Only an idiot—”

“—nowhere near enough for—”

“I need to leave for a little while. I’ll be back in a few weeks. I promise.”

That one seemed stronger than the others. He tried to go towards it, willing himself closer as opposed to actually moving in any way. He didn’t think he’d be able to if simply trying to speak had almost burnt him to ash.

As he listened to the voice, he realised it started repeating. It was vaguely familiar, like he’d heard it many times before. A memory. His memory?

“I need to leave for a little while. I’ll be back in a few weeks. I promise,” he said, already shoving some clothes into a bag.

“And leave me here on my own?” He didn’t turn to look at her, but he knew her well enough to know she had her hands on her hips. He’d known she wouldn’t like this.

“I don’t like this any more than you do. Trust me,” he said, trying to make light of the situation despite the churning anxiety in his gut. He could only hope it was only a few weeks, but they both knew the risks. He might never come back.

“If I ever see that bastard, I’m going to let him know exactly what I think of his stupid little gang. Why’s he sending you anyway? Can’t one of his little bootlickers go?”

“We need the money,” he sighed. They barely had enough to keep a roof above their heads, but even that was starting to fall apart. “If I do this, we could finally get out of this damned place.” He stopped packing, letting out a heavy sigh and hanging his head. It was this or they’d be evicted, left to fend for themselves on the streets.

He heard her move around behind him, a hand coming to rest on his back. “Promise me you’ll make it back.”

“I promise.”

The world warped around him, the room melting away. He didn’t get to see her face as the memory reset before he looked up.

“I have to leave for a little while,” he heard himself repeat.

This wasn’t right. If this was a memory then there should be more. He tried thinking about what he’d been doing before this, trying to picture the rest of the room, the face of the woman he’d been talking to.

There was nothing. Only this moment, a bubble of existence with finite boundaries.

He tore himself from the loop with some effort, letting the voices fade back into the crowd. It left him exhausted, floating listlessly in the void for some time before he had the energy to listen again. He searched for something that felt right, like it belonged to him. It was all familiar though. He’d lived all these moments, spread across a vast stretch of time. Far longer than a single lifetime should allow.

He caught a particularly loud one, hoping this might hold some answers. The pain in his core was steadily growing, despite him not doing anything that could aggravate it. He didn’t know if this was something he should be worried about, but it wasn’t like there was much he could do about it. Not when he wasn’t even sure if he had a body or not.

“Over here!” she called to her teammates as she waved across the field. Their faces were blurry, their names little more than vague impressions in her mind, but she would recognise them anywhere. The ball came flying towards her. She ran to meet it, catching it in midair.

Running as soon as her feet touched the ground, she wove her way between the players of the opposite team. Nothing existed beyond the field, grass giving way to empty void. The sunlight warming her back came from… nothing.

Mentally she faltered but her body kept running without her input, slowing only long enough to kick the ball over the goal line. The cheers of an invisible crowd erupted around her as her faceless team gathered around her. They’d won, but the name of the sport escaped her. This was her passion, but she had no idea why or for how long.

She tried to press at the edges of the memory, trying to remember why this was so important to her but as before she came up with nothing. It was just this moment with no relation to the other one whatsoever. She didn’t even think they were the same person.

She…

No… he. That was what he’d called himself before, wasn’t it?

He withdrew from the memory and kept searching.

The pain was growing worse, making it hard to concentrate. He tried to ignore it, to box it up and shove it down deeper within himself where it couldn’t distract from the task at hand. But it was too much. It was like…

She was suffocating. The engine had failed a little over an hour ago. Every second since had been devoted to getting it running again. She was lightyears away from the nearest station and even further from any inhabited planet.

This ship was old, it was the only reason she’d been able to buy it in the first place. But with age comes problems. She’d known the emergency generator didn’t work properly but had foolishly believed total engine failure wouldn’t happen to her.

Every breath was harder than the last, her lungs burning for oxygen that simply wasn’t there. Her hands shook as she worked, unhelped by fear and the cold slowly creeping in. Black dots swam before her eyes as she tried to fit the screwdriver to the panel to pry it off. She slipped, jabbing blindly at the metal.

“Come on. Please,” she begged breathlessly. Frustrated tears ran freely from her eyes. She had to stop to wipe them away. The artificial gravity had failed along with everything else so there was nothing to pull them down her face.

With another couple of tries, she finally caught an edge and pried it off. It took her a couple of seconds to fully realise what she was looking at. The wiring was completely fried, a blackened mass of melted plastic and metal.

“No,” she sobbed, the full horror dawning on her. There was nothing she could do. Even if she had all the materials, she would never be able to entirely rewire the control box in the little time she had left. “No, no, no. Not like this. Please, Spirits, not like this!”

She dropped the screwdriver and curled in on herself, seeking what small comfort she could in her dying moments. Every sob constricted her chest further, a tightening vice around her ribs.

Tearing himself from the memory, he tried to take in a desperate gasp of air. The pain was too much. He couldn’t breathe.

As soon as the cold water closed in around them, they knew they’d made a mistake. They should have listened. The others were built for the freezing temperatures, but they’d wanted to prove themself.

They couldn’t help the reflexive gasp they took as the cold hit their body. Ice filled their lungs, bringing a sharp, stabbing pain in their lungs. They coughed but it made no difference as they only breathed in more water.

Panicking, they clawed their way through the inky water. There was no way to tell where the surface was. It was the middle of the night, clouds keeping the stars hidden. Why had they been so stupid?

They had no idea if they were going in the right direction, blindly hoping they could still be saved. Swimming was difficult, the cold sapping energy from their muscles. Coordinating their movements was difficult as they continued to choke.

No amount of shoving the pain down could save him.

The air was forced from his lungs as easily a ton of rock buried him alive. He knew instantly his ribs were crushed. Someone shouted, followed by the dull thud of boots in the dust. A figure fell to their knees at his side, but his vision was already failing him.

He tried to speak but barely managed a gurgle. Hot blood bubbled up from his throat, running from his mouth down his face. Instinct told him to take a breath, but he only succeeded in weakly sucking in more blood.

The other person was talking frantically, too fast for him to follow. There was a slight pressure on his face, but he barely felt it. The only sensation still registering to his failing brain was the all-consuming pain and a deep sense of wrongness.

Someone help him. Please.

He’d always known blaster bolts burned. A shot of pure energy, hot enough to vaporise organic matter on contact. Knowing this was very different from experiencing it first-hand. Boiling pain erupted in his chest where a clanker had shot him. He could barely cry out as his legs gave way beneath him, his lungs having stopped working.

One of his brothers ran to his side, assessing the injury with practiced efficiency. He had no idea how bad it was, couldn’t even guess where exactly he’d been shot. He knew it was bad though. This wasn’t the first time he’d been injured. He’s survived mines, cannon fire, even several broken bones. He knew pain and how to handle it, but this was beyond him. He wouldn’t make it to see the sunrise.

His brother shook his helmeted head as he examined his chest. “Is there a medic available?” he said through their comm.

“Negative,” came the response.

“I’m sorry,” his brother said.

He shook his head. This wasn’t his fault. He could only hope his death meant something, that one day the war would be over and there would be peace in the galaxy.

It didn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? Over and over and over he kept reliving countless deaths. Drowning, shot, suffocating, stabbed, choking, dying, dying, dying. The pain only grew, consuming him until that was all he was, pain and death, never quite tipping over the edge. Never reaching the release into the quiet nothingness.

Was this who he was? An amalgamation of suffering in those final moments.

But there had been more than that, hadn’t there? It was hard to think beyond the white hot fire, but there were other moments. Quieter, softer, possibly even happy. Blindly he reached out, hoping to escape the spiral.

“I saw this and thought of you,” he said, holding out the small package, wrapped in some crumpled decorative flimsi. His beloved took it almost reverently and unwrapped it, revealing the slightly misshapen figure of a bird. Truth be told it was an ugly thing, an impulse purchase for only a couple of credits. But he’d known it would earn him a smile.

“I love it!” he said, grinning. He held it closer to his face to get a better look, no doubt trying to identify the species. Warmth bloomed in his chest with a swell of affection. How he ever got this lucky, he would never understand. But he thanked the stars above every single day that he did.

She waved to her friends from across the cantina. Their presence was a comfort, a knot of anxiety unravelling at the sight of them. They waved back and headed over, sliding into the booth beside her. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t coming,” she laughed, trying to rid herself of the tension.

“Nonsense, we said we’d come!” another said. “Now, who’s buying the first round?” A brief debate broke out over who was buying what. She sank back in her seat, the dregs of nervousness bleeding from her.

“Ma! Nara’s got a worm!” her younger brother shrieked as he ran away. She brandished said worm with glee, chasing after him. If she tried she could easily catch up to him and stick it down his shirt but there was no fun in that. There was no doubt in her mind as she ran that he would find some way to get her back later. He might steal her favourite toy or hide her blanket, but she’d get them back in the end. For now, she was having fun.

“Oh!” she gasped as they descended below the clouds. Her master chuckled beside her. This was their first mission together since she’d become a Padawan. Before this, she’d only seen other planets in holos, with the exception of Ilum. Not that it had been much to look at with all the snow. The landscape below was beautiful, a vast green forest blanketing the mountains. The sunrise painted the sky in brilliant hues of gold, setting the clouds on fire.

“Are all planets this green?” she asked.

Master Junda laughed. “Not all of them, but there are many.”

“I want to see them all one day,” she said.

“Maybe you will.”

“Dank Ferrik,” he sighed, throwing his cards down on the table. This was the third time in a row he’d lost to his commander. They were all roughly the same age, but considering he was a natborn they should have had a significant advantage over him. “Who taught you to play like that anyway?”

“Jan,” he said with a cheeky grin, raking in the chips.

“Jan?” both Viz and Squeak said in unison.

“As in “wouldn’t know fun if it hit him with a cannon” Jan? That guy?” Byte said.

“Yup,” their young commander said, popping the p. “Wanna go again?”

Trip shared a look with his brothers. They were only playing with chores to bet since none of them had any credits and while he usually wouldn’t hesitate if it was just him and his brothers, he was very aware the General probably wouldn’t be overly pleased to find his apprentice gambling.

“I know when I’m beaten,” he said, crossing his arms.

The kid pouted at him before turning to the others. “Anyone?”

“Yeah go on then. I’m feeling lucky,” Pike said, gathering up the cards to shuffle. Disk was the only other one to sit out the next game which meant Trip had someone he could share his theories with as the squad once again had their arses handed to them by a ten year old.

The pain didn’t lessen, but that wasn’t all he was. Not anymore. He still burned from the inside, a pool of lava erupting from within, but he refused to let it consume him. For every death, there were many other moments of happiness. Bright, shining points in the darkness like stars painting the night sky.

He still wasn’t sure who he was, but he was certain there was more than this fiery hell. There was a whole galaxy out there where these memories came from. He’d like to see it for himself. Maybe he’d remember who he was.

The first time he breached the surface of consciousness he was sent straight back to the void. The pain was too much for him to function, blinding him to everything else. He was fairly certain that he blacked out completely, coming to once more in the loud darkness. It didn’t put him off though. Maybe if he could just wake up and figure out what was hurting he could put a stop to it.

His second attempt was marginally more successful. He managed to hold on to consciousness for a little longer this time, prepared for the onslaught. It got worse when he tried to breathe, muscle and bone fighting the natural instinct to take a breath. A deep sense of wrongness lodged itself in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to scream but he didn’t have the air, only managing a strangled cry. Voices talked around him, but he had no idea if they came from the void or existed beyond. He couldn’t catch what they were saying and had no way of deciphering the words. There was only fire and noise and death.

He tried to twist away to escape the onslaught, but that only made it worse. Something pressed on him, pinning him down. A stab of fear that was not his own, coming from someone else. The voices maybe.

“—keep still.”

He couldn’t follow the order. He had to get away.

“Is there any—”

Something was trying to reach him. A faint thread from beyond the voices; a promise that this wasn’t all there was.

“—not much left—”

He couldn’t grasp it, slipping through his fingers like water.

“—don’t know what to do.”

He couldn’t escape.

“—hurt himself if—”

He couldn’t breathe.

“—can’t reach him, he’s—”

Dying.

“I’m sorry.”

The pain in his chest exploded, boiling him alive, his ribs caving in on themselves. He screamed as much as he was able, a ragged, choked noise clawing its way out of him. And then nothing.

Something was deeply, terribly wrong. The ever-present pain was only getting worse, steadily consuming him. No matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t stay conscious for more than a handful of minutes at a time before falling back into oblivion. It wasn’t even enough to scream, to beg someone, anyone to help him.

The voices had been steadily getting more distant each time he surfaced. He had a feeling it had something to do with the bone deep exhaustion that sunk its claws into him, dragging him down all too quickly into the abyss.

There was one voice he kept hearing that was different from the others, stronger and more present. He didn’t recognise it, but it was familiar. He couldn’t make out the words, but it was usually accompanied by the strange thread he’d sensed before, calling out to him. He couldn’t even try to grasp it no matter how much he wanted to. He was trapped in this in-between place, utterly helpless.

Despite the pain having grown in its fiery intensity, he lacked the energy to fight it, letting it quietly take over. He didn’t want to die, but it seemed he had no choice. He wouldn’t last much longer. It was very tempting to slip back into oblivion and avoid it altogether, but that felt like a very dangerous idea. He was afraid of what might happen if he submitted to it now. Would he ever wake up again?

Instead, he tried to focus on the words floating around his head. Figuring out what was being said required more concentration than he could spare, but he thought he recognised the speaker. Or someone in his head did. It was hard to tell the difference. He tried to grasp one of the memories that floated across his mind, wondering if it might be one of his own.

She was sat on the floor, eyes closed and struggling to concentrate. Or maybe she was overthinking it and needed to concentrate less. But how could she concentrate on not concentrating?

“Trilla,” her master said. She opened her eyes to find Cere watching her, amusement pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I can practically hear you thinking. You’re trying too hard. You need to relax, let the Force flow through you. Not beat it into submission.”

“Sorry Master,” she said, eyed fixed on the rug they were sat on.

“It’s alright. You’ll get there eventually.” Trilla nodded but didn’t look up, poking at a fold in the rug. “What’s wrong, Padawan?” she sighed after a moment passed.

“What if I never do it?” It had been a fear of hers for a long time now, even before Master Junda took her on as her apprentice. While she had never struggled to wield the Force according to her will, it was the quieter aspects she struggled with. Meditation being the hardest. She couldn’t command it to be calm, after all. That had to come from within.

“You will,” Cere said with such certainty that Trilla couldn’t help but believe it.

The memory trailed off like whisps of smoke, leaving him with a sense of calm. It wasn’t his memory, but he was certain he knew both of those people. He was fairly sure now that the woman, Cere, was the one talking to him, reaching out to him through the Force. He didn’t know how he knew her nor how he’d ended up like this, but he trusted that she meant well.

The thread of her presence was still there, shining in the Force. More than ever, he wanted to reach back, to let her know he was here and needed her help. But it was beyond him. All he could do was listen until oblivion took him once more.

Chapter Text

The first thing he realised when he next breached the surface of consciousness was that he was no longer being torn apart. The pain was still there, a dull ache simmering just below the surface. But it was no longer that all-consuming fire trying to wipe him from existence. He wasn’t choking, suffocating, fighting for every breath.

That feeling impending of doom was gone too, leaving him strangely empty. He tried to grasp at his memories, searching for something to fill the gap but came up empty aside from sheer relief. The voices in his head were still there, talking away and leaving him with a mix of vague emotions and sensations as they fought for his attention. For a while he just lay completely still, breathing slowly and trying to keep the worst of the onslaught at bay. He was afraid of moving, the risk of reignited the fire hanging over him.

Maybe he could try opening his eyes first and figure out where he was. It took a bit of effort, but he managed it, his eyelids impossibly heavy like they’d been glued shut. At first all he could see were blurry grey shapes and flashing lights above him. He blinked several times, trying to get his eyes to focus. Tentatively, he raised his hand to rub the gunk from his eyes.

“You’re awake!” one of the voices announced, piercing through the din and rattling his skull. “Don’t move too much, you’ve got to take it nice and slow,” they continued. A hand came to rest on his arm, squeezing ever so slightly. “How are you feeling?”

It took him a few seconds to firstly fully process what was being said, and second that it was being directed at him. He realised then that the reason the voice had a different quality to it was because it wasn’t coming from inside his head. He risked turning to look at the speaker. He had to squint to get his eyes to adjust but he was pretty sure he recognised him, even if his name remained elusive. He trusted him though; he was certain of that much.

“You with me kid?” his friend asked when he received no answer, giving his arm another gentle squeeze. Afraid of awakening the ripping pain in his chest, he only managed a quiet hum.

His friend muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t catch it, lost beneath the chatter of voices. “Alright, what did Cere say… Do you know where we are?” he asked.

He stared at him for another couple of seconds, willing his brain to supply him with something aside from a general sense of safety. He conceded defeat and shook his head slightly. “That’s alright kid. Do you know who I am?” Another shake. “I’m Greez. You’re on the Mantis, my ship. Wait, do you remember who you are?” he asked, brows furrowing.

He shook his head again. Greez gave him a sympathetic look and nodded, muttering something to himself again. “Alright. Your name is Cal. Uh… you’re a Jedi, but you were a scrapper for a while on Bracca. Uh…” he trailed off, searching for something else to say. Cal stopped paying attention, Greez’s voice fading into all the others. “Cal” resonated pleasantly in his mind, giving him the sense of belonging he’d been missing. A light guiding him out of the storm.

He held on to it, using it to find some of his own memories. They remained fragmented and scattered, but with a name to focus on, he was able to sift through the mess and drag them out piece by piece. The Mantis, the ship he’d started to call home. A rainy planet filled with scrap, working endless shifts with his friend at his side. A different ship further back, filled with thousands of brothers, each one unique despite what most thought.

He found nothing solid in this way, not like the others he’d relived so far. These were slightly worn and faded in comparison, completely different from the sharp detail and intense emotions. While he found little in the way of answers, it was enough that he finally felt like a person again, filling that horrible gaping hole that had been burnt through his core.

“I’m not very good at this. Maybe I should get Cere,” Greez mumbled, catching his attention.

“Greez,” Cal rasped to get his attention. His tongue stuck to the inside of his mouth, his throat rough and scratchy. He could really do with some water. There was a weird sensation there too, like something was lodged in his throat and up nose.

Greez’s attention snapped back to him, his eyes scanning over him like he was searching for something. “Don’t go,” Cal croaked.

“Okay. I’m right here,” he said, settling down a little. “Can I get you anything?”

“Water?”

Greez stood up and for a terrifying second Cal thought he was going to leave. Instead he picked up a cup from the floor and came to stand by Cal’s bed. “I’m gonna have to sit you up. Tell me if it hurts, alright?”

Cal hummed, agreeing to the terms. Greez still hesitated, clearly uncertain whether he should be moving Cal at all. He shook the three arms that weren’t holding anything out to dissipate the nervous energy and took a deep breath. Ever so carefully he lifted Cal’s head enough that he could take a drink. The water was the best thing he’d tasted in a long time. He couldn’t help the whine he let out when Greez took the cup from his lips.

“Sorry kid. You’ve gotta take it real slow.” Greez did allow him a few more sips before lying him back down just as gently. “Anything else I can get you?”

Thirst quenched for now, Cal was finding it hard to stay awake. He shook his head as his eyes closed against his will. He didn’t want to go back to the darkness yet, but consciousness was slipping through his fingers.

“You just rest now,” Greez said. He put his hands on Cal’s arm once more, a comforting weight. A feeling of safety washed over him, carrying him back to sleep.

It took Cal a while to realise he was awake the next time he opened his eyes. The room was dark; the only indication he’d opened his eyes at all coming from the blinking lights. Like this, with his eyes still blurry from sleep, they reminded him of stars, twinkling in the night sky.

He looked to the side, only to find the room empty. Greez was gone, but he suppose that made sense. It was probably the middle of the ship’s night cycle. A curious beep came from somewhere in the darkness. “Hello?” he whispered.

Another beep, followed by something skittering across the floor. Despite not knowing what was in the room with him, Cal wasn’t afraid. A small droid hopped up on the bed, beeping at him excitedly. Despite his excitement, he moved carefully around Cal. He struggled to understand what he was saying, only catching snatches of meaning as he tried to translate binary into words.

“Slow down buddy,” he said, the term of endearment coming easily. He knew this droid, but much like everything else, his memories came to him slowly like treacle. He patted the droid on the head, brushing against an echo. It was old, one that already lived in his head. It sparked to life beneath his fingers, filling him with near overwhelming affection.

“It’s good to see you too BD,” he said once the sensation faded, greeting his friend properly.

BD launched into another long string of binary that Cal only caught bits of. Everyone has been so worried and he’s sorry he missed him before when Greez said he’d been awake because he was helping Cere plan their next stop and—

“It’s okay,” he said, cutting him off with another pat to the head. “You have to go slower. My head’s all messed up.”

This unfortunately prompted BD to shine his scanner right in Cal’s face, temporarily blinding him. Cal screwed his eyes closed and turned his head. “Gah! Knock it out,” he said with mild amusement, lightly nudging BD away. “I mean with the… uh…” what had he called it just now? “The echoes.”

BD asked if it was worse than usual. “I have no idea. Everything’s coming to me in pieces, and it’s all tangled up in other people.” BD let out a sad whistle before asking if he should get Cere.

It took Cal a moment to remember who Cere was. She had been there when he was trapped in the void, reaching out to him, trying to bring him back. She might be able to help, but honestly Cal just wanted to go back to sleep. “No, it’s alright. What time is it anyway?” Almost four in the morning came the reply. “Maybe tomorrow,” he mumbled, letting his eyes fall closed. BD chirped in agreement, settling himself near Cal’s head.

Before Cal opened his eyes, he knew he wasn’t alone. He could sense a familiar presence nearby, just at the edge of his perception. It was no surprise to him then that when he did open his eyes, he found Cere sitting nearby.

“Cere,” he rasped, drawing her attention from the datapad she was reading.

“Cal,” she looked up instantly, datapad forgotten. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you awake.” The smile she gave him was tired, but her relief in the Force hit him like a tidal wave.

He didn’t know why exactly, but he was particularly relieved to see her too. His gut told him that something terrible had happened to both of them, but he had no idea what. Seeing her now settled that anxiety in him. “I don’t remember…”

Cere took his hand and squeezed. “Greez said you didn’t remember much. It’s hopefully just the echoes, right?” She projected calm through the Force, soothing his worries.

He nodded. “I think so.” A pause. Then, “What happened? Everything hurts, but I don’t remember why.”

Cere gave him a tight smile, taking a breath to steady herself. “Do you remember our mission, to rebuild the Jedi Order?”

It took Cal a few seconds to dredge it up, but it was there. “The holocron…” he mumbled as snatches of the last few months flashed through his mind. The small spark of hope he’d found in the Vault after so long, Cordova’s messages leading them across the galaxy. And then, finally, opening the Vault only for Trilla to take it from him.

With a sudden surge of panic he tried to sit up, only for pain to tear through him. He collapsed back on his bed with a strangled cry, the world shrinking down to that white-hot explosion trapped behind his ribs. “Easy,” Cere said, breaking through the static in his ears. “Try not to move, you’ll tear your stitches.” She sounded calm but her worry leaked through the gaps in the Force.

“Is the holocron safe?” he rasped when he remembered how to form words.

“It’s safe,” she said giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The Vault. Everything gets fuzzy after that.”

“We went to the Inquisitor Fortress on Nur. You fought Trilla and got the holocron before I arrived.”

“Trilla. You’re trying too hard.”

“Sorry Master.”

She was happy once. But then…

“No. Don’t go. We need to stick together.”

Clones, firing on the younglings.

“Master! Don’t leave us!”

Terror driving every moment.

“No. No please!”

Her own screams drowning out the ones around her.

Pain pulsed in Cal’s chest, radiating out from his left side as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Those weren’t his memories, sharp and scared. That hadn’t happened to him. Trilla. Cere’s Padawan. Her echoes lived in his head.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The thought of killing her after witnessing so much of her life didn’t sit well with him. He knew what she’d been through. How could he bring himself to kill her after that? But he also knew her single-minded determination to prove herself and her raging hatred of the Jedi. Particularly Cere, born of betrayal and torture. She would never stop hunting them down.

“Did I kill her?” he choked out as Cere tried to calm him.

“No. But she is gone,” Cere said, the words heavy with grief. “I tried to talk to her, to convince her to come with us, but she didn’t get to make that choice.” Cere’s gaze fell to the floor. “I think you should try to get some more rest. Triggering echoes isn’t good for you right now.” Cere said, effectively ending the conversation.

He got the impression he didn’t have much of a choice as exhaustion was already dragging him down. “Wait, tell me what happened. Please.” He needed to know why he was hurting so badly. Maybe then he could start to make sense of everything else.

Cere’s lips formed a thin line. She’d been avoiding getting to the point, but he already knew the outcome. He just didn’t have the bit in between. “The Sith Lord, Darth Vader, killed Trilla,” she said solemnly. “I told you to run. I tried to attack him to buy you time and… as revenge for everything he’s done. He tossed me over the ledge, but I managed to hold on and climb my way back up. I don’t know what you did after that but when I found you again, he’d already stabbed you in the chest with your own lightsaber.”

A shaky “oh,” was all he managed. That would certainly explain the level of pain he was in. “How did we escape?”

“I’m not sure about that either. Merrin pulled both of us from the water.” Cal gave a tired hum. None of what she was telling him was bringing anything to the surface. But perhaps that was for the best until he’d recovered a little more.

“Rest now,” she said, adjusting his blanket before sitting back down. “We can talk more later.”

Cal was getting pretty fed up of sleeping all the time. He’d gathered by now that the others checked on him often due to the frequency of waking up with someone else present. On the rare occurrence that none of them were in the room then BD certainly was, usually perched somewhere near his head and greeting him with a quiet chirp. He was grateful for their company of course, but what he really wanted was to be up and doing something. Sitting idle was starting to drive him insane.

They’d so far only allowed him to make assisted trips to and from the fresher. After much back and forth he managed to convince them to wait outside with the door unlocked instead of going in with him. But even that short distance always left him wiped out and sore.

Greez had lent him his datapad so he could watch holofilms, but he usually couldn’t stay awake for long enough to get through more than the first few minutes. He just felt so useless, but trying to push himself only set him back further. He may be impatient, but he wasn’t stupid.

The echoes hadn’t been much better either. He’d gradually regained his own memories, though the Fortress remained patchy, mixed in with all the echoes he’d picked up. He didn’t know why he’d gotten so scrambled, but Cere thought it might be a trauma response. His brain shut down as he fought for his life, blurring the lines between echoes and his own memories.

Cal was sitting propped up by a mountain of pillows, idly scrolling through a list of films he’d started but not finished, trying to find one he might be able to stay awake for when he heard footsteps approach. Merrin came into view, pausing at the door. “You are awake,” she observed, standing stiffly like she wasn’t expecting him to be up. She’d only come to see him a few times while he was awake, but he’d been too out of it to say much aside from thanking her for pulling him out of the water.

“You don’t need permission to come in. If… if you want,” he said when she lingered at the door.

Broken from her spell, she nodded and came in, sitting on the crate by his bed. “Are you in pain?” she asked after casting about for something to say.

“When am I not?” he sighed. “Cere gave me some painkillers a couple hours ago.” Merrin nodded, looking uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to say to ease the tension. She didn’t meet his gaze, looking at the datapad now sitting in his lap instead of him.

“How have you been holding up?” he asked, resisting the urge to straight up apologise yet again for the inconvenience of getting stabbed. Greez had already told him off too many times.

Merrin met his eyes then, the mask of indifference slipping. “It has been hard,” she said after a moment, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Your injuries were severe. I doubted you would survive.” Cal kept quiet, sensing there was more that needed to be said. Merrin shifted on the crate, trying to get comfortable. She’d gone back to staring at the floor.

“I spent so long alone on Dathomir. I thought I was used to solitude, but being on this ship has made me realise how much I hated it. You are the first friend I have had since the death of my people. I do not know what I would have done if I had lost you so soon.”

“What happened? After you pulled us out the water,” he asked. “I know it was bad. Cere and Greez won’t talk about it, and I feel terrible all the time.”

“You drowned,” she said bluntly, meeting his eyes once more. “Cere too, though she was easier to revive.” There was a slight waver to her voice as she spoke, noticeable only because he was so used to her steady rhythm. “I did what I could to keep you alive with magick, but I am no healer. I alone could not save you. Cere contacted someone called Saw Gurrera to ask for help. He gave us coordinates for a medic who would not turn us in to the Empire. It took us three days to get there.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say.

“You do not need to apologise,” she said with unexpected ferocity. “It is not your fault that you are hurt.”

“Still… I can’t imagine what that was like for you.”

She nodded solemnly, the fight draining from her. “We thought we were going to lose you before we arrived. You woke up a few times at first, but all you did was scream. Then you started fading. Cere said she could not reach you in the Force, that you were dying… I almost wished you had started screaming again.” She said the last part quietly, her gaze a thousand lightyears away.

“I’m still here,” he said, wishing he was able to lean over and take her hand.

She turned to him then, her eyes as watery as her smile. “That you are.” She took a deep breath, collecting herself before speaking again. “Saw’s medic took you straight into surgery when we arrived. We were not allowed to see you until the following morning. He kept you there for another day before advising us to leave in case we got caught. It is hard to hide a ship like the Mantis for long when the Empire is searching for it.”

“How long ago was that?”

“You were kept sedated for a week before you talked to Greez, and it has been another three days since then.”

“Wait, sedated?”

“Yes. Your injuries are severe, and strong painkillers are hard to come by. The medic thought it best to keep you asleep while the worst of it healed. You’ve only got enough painkillers to last another five or so days. Then we will have to manage with whatever we can find.”

“So where are we going now?” The engine room lacked any kind of viewports so the only indication that they weren’t stationary came from the vibration of the engine itself. With how patchy wakefulness was, he didn’t know if they were hopping around some planet or in the middle of a long journey through hyperspace.

“Cere knows someone who might be able to help, but they are on the far side of the galaxy.”

This all seemed like a lot of fuss. He’d endured plenty of injuries on Bracca without any meds whatsoever, though granted he’d never been stabbed in the chest by a lightsaber before. Before he could say any of this to Merrin she cut him off with a look. “Do not think that you can say anything to dissuade us from going,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” he said defensively.

“Both Cere and Greez warned me what you are like when you are hurt, and I can already tell they were not wrong. We will get you whatever meds you need whether you think you deserve them or not.” She emphasised her point by crossing her arms. “Besides, you will heal faster if you are not in pain all of the time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled under his breath. It was mostly for show though since he was in no state to put up much of a fight. If he was hurting this badly with the good painkillers, he wasn’t exactly keen to find out what it was like without them.

“Want to help me pick another holofilm?” he asked, turning the conversation to something a little lighter. “I keep falling asleep because all the ones Greez recommends are so boring.”

“I do not know many,” she said, leaning closer to look at his datapad.

“Neither do I. There wasn’t much opportunity to watch things on Bracca.”

With a bit of help from Merrin, he shuffled over on his bed so that there was room for her to sit beside him. Together they scrolled through numerous films, trying to figure out something they both might like. In the end they settled on some kind of horror-comedy mash up. BD projected it for them so they didn’t need to crowd around the datapad. Cal fell asleep within the first twenty minutes.

Cal really hated the new painkillers he was on. It was the best they’d managed to get courtesy of Cere’s contact. While they certainly helped keep the pain to a manageable level, they also made him incredibly drowsy, leaving him feeling like his head was stuffed with cotton when he managed to stay awake. It was the exact opposite of what he’d been hoping for, but Merrin was right. Ultimately he’d only prolong the pain by not taking them and pushing himself past his limits. That didn’t mean he liked it.

The only upside was that it significantly dulled the echoes too. His brain could barely process what was happening around him, let alone the thousands of echoes demanding his attention. He’d mostly gotten them back under control by now, having untangled his own memories.

He was currently trying to read a holobook Cere had lent him but kept finding himself staring through it instead, the words sliding meaninglessly across his mind. He couldn’t even remember what it was supposed to be about, but it was a little easier than trying to watch another holofilm since he could just pick up from whatever page he was on. Not that he knew what had happened previously.

He was so caught up in the fight to stay present that he didn’t realise Greez had come in until a cup appeared in front of his face. “Oh,” he said. A couple of seconds later he lifted his hand to take it.

“You got it?” Greez asked before letting go. “I did say hi when I came in, but I don’t think you noticed.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, dropping the holobook in his lap.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Here, I made you some soup. Think you can manage without help?”

Cal nodded so Greez placed a tray on his lap, sitting on the crate beside his bed. Cal took a sip from the cup, glad that it was only water. He still didn’t have much of an appetite. Both the meds and the pain itself working against his stomach to make him nauseous. He’d hoped that removing the feeding tube the medic had given him might help, but if anything he felt worse after Cere helped him take it out. He never wanted to experience anything like that ever again.

Despite the nausea, they were out of nutrient packs, so Cal didn’t have much choice. He had to get used to eating real food again whether his stomach was ready or not. The smell of the soup wafted up, warm and inviting. Despite this he resisted the urge to gag. He really didn’t want to know what throwing up would do to the pain. He picked up the spoon, idly stirring it through the soup as he tried to work up the courage to try it.

“Hey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” Greez said after a minute of watching Cal make zero progress.

“What?”

“Eat your soup while I talk.”

Cal sighed, looking forlornly at the bowl before forcing himself to try. It tasted pretty good, though it wasn’t as flavourful as Greez’s usual cooking since he was supposed to start with simple things which unfortunately meant no spices. He managed to swallow the small mouthful without incident and went back for another slow spoonful. Greez took this as his cue.

“Look, I still don’t fully understand all this Force stuff, but we tried to avoid leaving echoes everywhere. We kept you out in the lounge until after we got you patched up, mostly because it was easier to look after you there. But also Cere said it would be better if your room was still safe for you, so you could recover properly.”

“It’s quiet in here,” he said before taking another bite.

“Good. That’s good.” He visibly relaxed, relieved that at least that had gone to plan. “But, uh, well I guess my point is that the lounge might be… no so great. And I wanted to say that I’ll get rid of anything that’s upsetting you. I already need to replace the potolli-weave, but anything else, you say the word and it’s gone.”

It took Cal longer than he’d like to admit for Greez’s words to sink in, blinking dumbly while he tried to process what he was saying, soup completely forgotten. He should thank him for the offer. Or tell him he could deal with it. “What if it’s the floor?” was what came out.

Greez cracked a smile. “We can afford to replace a few panels kid,” he shrugged.

Cal was waiting for some kind of catch. Surely there was more to it? But Greez was genuine. Even his hazy connection to the Force gave no hint of a lie. “Why?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next now you and Cere have the holocron, but I figured you’d still need a pilot to fly you two around. The Mantis is your home, if you want it to be. Somewhere you can be safe and rest when you need to. Can’t do that with horrible echoes bothering you.”

If his head wasn’t so full of fluff he’d have started crying. Instead all he managed was a croaky “oh” as warmth unrelated to the soup bloomed in his chest. This was his home and Greez was determined to make it as comfortable for him as possible. “Thanks.”

“Ah, don’t mention it kid. Or do I guess, if there’s anything that needs to go. Now hurry up and eat before it gets cold.”

Greez continued to talk about lighter topics while Cal ate, including but not limited to the recipe he’d used, the story of how he got it and the ingredients and substitutions he’d had to use because apparently nobody this side of the galaxy sold akvaa root. Cal tried his best to follow along through the brain fog and before he knew it he’d finished off the entire bowl.

“Knew you could do it,” Greez said as he removed the tray from his lap.

“Thank you. For everything,” he said, already half asleep.

“You’re welcome Cal.”

Chapter Text

The ship was quiet for once. They’d landed early that morning at some dusty Outer Rim spaceport. Everyone else had gone out a few hours ago, both to stretch their legs and to buy supplies. Cal didn’t join them. While he was no longer bedbound, he still lacked the energy to do much more than wander around the ship. But just because he wasn’t wandering the busy streets didn’t mean he wasn’t taking advantage of being on solid ground.

The sun was shining, the sky a beautiful clear blue dotted with the occasional cloud. A light breeze carried the smells of nearby food vendors. Cal still didn’t have much of an appetite, but the smell alone no longer made him queasy. He was currently sitting in the shade under the Mantis, cleaning his lightsaber. He was far enough away from anyone else that he doubted anyone could tell what it was, even if they knew what to look for. No one would suspect there were Jedi around here anyway.

“Missed a spot.”

“Where?” he said at the same time as another voice.

He scanned his eyes over it, wondering if the voice was just being pedantic or if he actually had missed some dirt. He’d only been able to give it a quick look since escaping the Fortress and had spent most of the morning repairing water damage and fine tuning the internal mechanisms. Now he just had to clean it, which could be just as easily achieved outside.

“Just there,” the first voice chimed in as a patch of crusted salt and dirt around the switch caught his eye. It had taken him a few days to readjust to the echoes. It wasn’t as hard as those early days after Bracca, his repaired connection to the Force smoothing the rough patches when the line between Cal and the past became blurred. It had taken a few tries, but when he needed to he could supress the voices for a short while, though the effort often left him exhausted. They didn’t take control, nor were they overwhelming. They were just… there.

Trilla’s echoes weren’t as much of a problem now either. It was like he’d had a system reboot, all the echoes falling to the same level of intensity, no matter how recent or strong they were. In a way he was grateful, though he could have done without being stabbed to get there.

He remembered the Fortress now too, though only in patches. Honestly the less he knew the better. Fighting his way through the Fortress itself was a blur of blaring alarms and blaster fire. Things only became marginally clearer once he made it to the interrogation chamber. The desperate fight against Trilla, her single-minded determination to kill him. That look would haunt him for a long time, but he had succeeded.

There had been a brief moment where he thought both he and Cere might get out of this unscathed, but then the Sith Lord came. Everything became a mess of panic and fear once more, a vague recollection of Cere tapping into the dark side before rejecting it, creating a shield to protect them both. And then… nothing. He hoped that nothing else would resurface. The nightmares were already bad enough, the mere thought of Darth Vader alone enough to send his heart racing.

“You should talk to her.”

“Shut it,” he warned. He’d purposely come out here to take his mind off things. He’d spent far too long cooped up inside, worrying about what to do with the holocron. After everything that had happened, the vision he’d had in the Vault, the Empire coming so close to finding the list of children, witnessing the horrific torture inflicted upon the prisoners there, Cal could not in good conscience put those children in danger. If it were up to him, he would have destroyed the holocron as soon as he was able to hold his lightsaber steady.

But it wasn’t up to him. This was, and always had been, Cere’s mission. It was Cere who wanted to rebuild the Order, who had held tight to that hope for the past years in order to keep herself going. Cal couldn’t just rip that away from her. He didn’t know what to do, so he didn’t talk about it. Cere hadn’t mentioned it either, but he assumed she still wanted to go ahead and track down those children, find some planet even more remote than Bogano and bring them there.

Cal couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach it was the wrong move. There wasn’t a scrap of the galaxy the Empire didn’t know about. Every habitable rock in every system seemed to be crawling with enemies, Imperial or otherwise.

With a sigh, Cal set aside his lightsaber and ran a hand through his hair. BD, who had been scanning the nearby weeds, turned to him and gave a curious beep. “I’m alright. I just… I don’t know what to do.” He’d already told BD his thoughts on the matter, but the only advice the droid had to offer was just to keep hold of it indefinitely. Cal knew that wasn’t an option. Knowing their luck, something would happen and the holocron would fall into the wrong hands yet again. He didn’t think he’d survive another rescue mission.

“You should talk to her.”

“Alright! Fine, I will,” he said, tossing aside the cloth he’d been using.

“You will what?” Greez said, somehow having appeared without him noticing. Cal nearly jumped out of his skin, causing his still healing chest to twinge.

“Ow, why’d you sneak up on me like that?” he said light-heartedly, absently pressing a hand to his side.

“I thought you Jedi were supposed to know these sorts of things.”

“Only if we’re concentrating,” Cere said, coming up behind him. Both of them had their arms full of various supplies. Merrin was notably absent.

“Where’s Merrin?”

“She wandered off,” Greez shrugged. “Said she’d be back in a few hours.”

“You need a hand taking that stuff inside?” Cal asked.

“No, you stay there. We managed this far.” With that Greez disappeared up the ramp, Cere moving to follow. There was a brief moment where he thought he’d be brave enough to speak up, ask her to stop so they could talk. But the moment passed, and she followed him inside.

BD buzzed at him, annoyed that he hadn’t done anything. “I know. It’s hard, alright?” He picked his lightsaber back up and absently went back over it with the cloth. It was as clean as it was going to get, but he needed to do something with his hands to keep himself from spiralling.

Footsteps on the ramp a few minutes later pulled him back out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong?” Cere asked, coming to sit at his side on the packed dirt.

Nothing,” he said, mentally kicking himself as soon as he said it.

“It’s not nothing. Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

“In the Force?”

“I don’t need the Force for this one.”

“Tell her.”

He sighed and let his hands fall to his lap. “It’s the holocron.”

“What about it?” she asked carefully.

“I think we need to destroy it.” Her shock rippled through the Force, but she held her tongue, waiting to see if he would explain himself. He took a few seconds to sort his thoughts into some kind of coherent order before speaking again. “Back on Bogano, in the Vault, I had a vision. I was training the younglings but the Empire found us. They killed most of them, captured the rest and tortured them. And I… I became an Inquisitor to spare their lives.”

“It was only a vision,” she said, resting her hand on his knee.

“Was it? Cordova had a vision in that Vault that the Order would fall. The council didn’t believe him, but it happened, just like he said. Why would this be any different.”

“Cal, this is what our mission has been for. We have a chance to rebuild the Order and fight back against the Empire. Don’t you want that too?”

“Not at the cost of those children,” he said. “Merrin was right. We’d only be putting a target on their backs. Even if the Empire doesn’t find us, they will be hunted for the rest of their lives. And I know all too well what that’s like.”

Cere was silent for a long time. Anxiety twisted in his gut the longer it stretched on. “I’m going to go help Greez put everything away,” was what she said eventually, ending the conversation. Cal watched as she got to her feet and headed up the ramp.

“That could have gone better.”

Cal let out a frustrated noise, scrubbing his hands over his face. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He knew she wouldn’t agree and now she was mad at him. BD gave a sympathetic bwoo, butting his head against Cal’s leg. Cal gave his head a rub, trying not to send himself into a downward spiral. It was okay, no matter what happened next they would still have each other. Maybe Cere was right. Maybe they really could rebuild the Order in secret and fight back. Cal tried to convince himself of this future, but it just never seemed feasible.

The sun had moved a significant distance across the sky when he next heard someone approach. They weren’t coming down the ramp, so he assumed it was Merrin. Sure enough when he looked up, the Nightsister was making her way towards the ship, a lumpy looking bag in hand. “What are you sulking about?” she asked as she came within earshot.

“I told Cere I think we should destroy the holocron.”

“You did?” she said, visibly surprised. “What made you change your mind?”

“A lot of things. You’re right though, we’d just be putting a target on those children’s backs.”

“I take it she did not react well to what you had to say.”

Cal shook his head. “I think she’s still determined to rebuild the Order. It’s what’s kept her going for a long time now. I can’t blame her for not wanting to let it go.”

“I could talk to her.”

“I won’t stop you trying, but I don’t think it’ll help.”

“Hmm. Very well. I would not worry about it. We don’t have to do anything with it yet.”

“The longer we hold onto it, the higher the risk that something will happen, and we won’t be ready for it. The Empire has got to be looking for us, and they know what’s on that list.”

“We are still laying low. No one here suspects us.”

“Yet.”

“Greez said we won’t be here long. He and Cere seem to know of a lot of uninhabited planets.”

“They’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.”

“It will work out, Cal.” With that she disappeared up the ramp, leaving Cal and BD alone once more.

Anxiety ate away at Cal for the rest of the day. He tried to spend as much time outside in the shade of the Mantis as he could. Most of that time was spent meditating, trying to sort through his tangled emotions. He wasn’t sure it made much difference, but it helped calm him and really that was all he needed. It was the first time he’d been able to meditate properly since before entering the Vault.

He couldn’t help but marvel at how easily it came to him. He still had to be careful not to lose himself, teetering on the knife edge between serenity and losing control, but he found the balance without much effort and was able to hold himself there. He could sense the rest of the crew within the ship above him. Even Cere now had a presence, no longer a void but shining brighter than the others. She hadn’t moved for a long time, holed up in her room. He didn’t know if she was busy working or possibly meditating too.

It would never cease to amaze him how differently he perceived each planet in the Force when he had the chance to stop and take it in. Unlike either Bogano or Kashyyyk this port was busy, teeming with sentients going about their day, hurrying through the streets to reach their destination. It lacked most of the plant and animal life he’d gotten used to finding though, save for the patches of grass and weeds and the bugs crawling in the dirt. There were a few birds too, but none of the larger creatures he was used to.

He could sense Greez coming down the ramp before he heard him. To prove a petty point, he kept his eyes closed as he approached. “Hey Greez,” he said, gradually bringing himself back into his body. When he did open his eyes he was mildly surprised to see the sun was now setting.

“So sneaking up on you is conditional, I get it,” he said dryly. “Whatever, I just wanted to tell you dinner’s gonna be ready in a few minutes. Can’t hang around, the sauce is going to boil over.”

“You could’ve sent Merrin,” he called after him as he left.

“She still terrifies me,” he called back before disappearing.

While the hole in his chest was mostly healed now, that didn’t mean moving around was a fun experience. Bracing himself for what was to come, he carefully levered himself to his feet using the landing gear as a support. He had to catch his breath once he was up, winded from the relatively simple act. Once the ground stopped tilting under his feet, he slowly made his way to the ramp. They would be leaving in the morning, so he cast one last glance at the sunset before heading inside, closing the door behind him.

As expected, Greez was busy in the kitchen. Merrin was sat in the lounge, looking at Cere’s datapad. Cal might’ve been tempted to collapse on the seat next to her, but as Greez had warned him, the whole area was shrouded in echoes. The potolli-weave had already been replaced by rough canvas, but both the table and one of the side panels harboured strong echoes that he did not want to accidentally brush against. He’d tried not to cause a fuss despite what Greez had told him, but there was no easy excuse to give when he refused to join the others one evening. They’d promised they’d work on it, but this port didn’t have the parts they needed.

Instead he headed to the engine room to drop his lightsaber on the workbench, stopping to wash his hands in the fresher on his way back. By the time he made back to the kitchen, four plates were waiting on the table. There wasn’t actually enough room for the four of them, never mind the fact that there were only three chairs. Yet another thing Greez said he was going to fix.

Cal took his usual seat at the end since he wasn’t going to be sitting in the lounge. The others could fight over who sat where. BD perched on the edge, scanning Cal’s food before he even had a chance to take a bite. Merrin appeared shortly after, taking the seat beside Cal. Greez disappeared briefly, returning with Cere in tow.

Cal kept his head down, acting like he was more interested in his food than he actually was. He didn’t want to have to talk about the holocron right now. Or face her disappointment. Cere, perhaps just as uncomfortable as Cal, deliberately chose to sit on the sofa. Cal couldn’t help but feel bad that he’d made things tense between them, but saying nothing was eating him up inside.

Dinner was a tense affair, despite Greez and Merrin’s attempts to make it otherwise. Cal wasn’t in the mood for their antics and Cere barely said a word. Eventually he had enough and retreated to the engine room, leaving half of his food. In his defence, he wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t hungry. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about it though since Greez had made the dish specifically because it was one of his favourites.

He stayed shut away in his room for no more than an hour before there was a gentle knock. “Cal?” Cere said through the door. Cal stood, going to the door controls to open it. Cere was waiting for him on the other side, the holocron in her hands.

“May I come in?” she asked. Cal nodded, stepping aside to allow her entry. She closed the door behind her then paused.

Cal didn’t know what to say. She looked nervous, her gaze fixed on the holocron while she shifted from foot to foot. He waited for her to make the first move. She opened her mouth a couple of times before nodding and finally raising her head to look him in the eye. “You’re right.”

“Huh?” he said intelligently.

“About the holocron. I… I held on to the hope of rebuilding the order for so long, I was blinded to the dangers. There are only two of us, and even with Greez and Merrin, there’s no way we can protect that many children. Those families don’t deserve to have their lives uprooted for a cause they know nothing about.”

She held it out to him. Her fingers trailed across the edges as he took it, letting out a sigh when she let go. Reaching into the Force, he opened it. A map of the galaxy revealed itself, tiny points of light dotted across it, marking what once would have been the next generation of Jedi. But now they were just ordinary children. Touched by the Force, yes, but safe in their untrained anonymity.

For a split second he could see a future in those pinprick of light where they did find them, bring them together and train them. A future where they went undiscovered and eventually brought down the Empire, freeing countless systems of its tyranny. A future with a new Jedi Order. But it could never be more than a dream. The risks simply weren’t worth it.

He called his lightsaber to his hand from the workbench, igniting a single blade. He lifted his gaze from the map to Cere. She too was looking at the map, as though she could commit the coordinates of ach child to memory. A moment later she lifted her gaze to look at him. With a graze nod, she stepped back.

With a swift slice, he cut the holocron cleanly in two, the halves falling to the floor. The two of them let out heavy sighs, equal parts relief and grief. It was over. Those children were safe. The Order was gone.

Cal woke with a gasp. He sat up, body shaking, heart pounding against his ribs. It was only another nightmare, he told himself. He was safe. He was on the Mantis. He was home. Nothing could hurt him here. He repeated this mantra for a couple of minutes as sweat cooled on his skin. He glanced at the chrono to find it was early morning. Just as well since he wasn’t going to fall asleep again after that.

He let out a weary sigh as he rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes. The nightmare was already fading, though the fear still remained. Dark shadows and desperation sinking their claws in deep, refusing to let go. Some nights he couldn’t tell where the nightmare originated, whether it was born of his own fears or an echo. All he did know is that they’d made a comeback on Bogano after picking up Trilla’s echoes and had only gotten worse since Nur.

Glancing over at the workbench, BD-1 was still sat charging. There was no need to disturb him, so he got up and headed out to the kitchen silently. He could see faint pinkish light coming in through the viewports as the sun began its ascent above the horizon, reflecting off the walls down the hallway. He wished he could say he was surprised the light in the galley was on, but this had become something of a routine now.

“Morning Cere,” he said, heading straight for the caf, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Nightmare?” she asked, looking up from the holobook she’d been reading.

Cal hummed, his head still too foggy to think about speaking and finding his mug. Cere turned back to her book while he went about pouring himself some caf. She couldn’t have been up for too long since it was still hot.

“It was the Fortress again,” he said after taking a sip.

It was Cere’s turn to frown then, her lips forming a thin line. “Anything specific?”

“Can’t remember,” he said, leaning against the counter. He held his mug with both hands close to his chest, letting the warmth of it ward off the chill of early morning. The ship always cooled down at night, cycling to conserve fuel when it wasn’t needed. It didn’t bother Cal; he’d woken up to plenty of cold, miserably damp mornings on Bracca. This was practically paradise in comparison, knowing he had clean, dry clothes to wear and fresh caf to warm him up. “It was one of Trilla’s, I think. It felt like one of hers.”

Cere set aside her book, now forgotten on the kitchen table. She had that look that meant she had something important to say. “Cal, I’ve been thinking. You said once that Master Tapal tried to help you let go of the echoes.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t work,” he shrugged. “Best I could do was ignore them for a little while. Kind of like what I can do now, but worse.”

“Exactly, you couldn’t do it before because your connection to the Force wasn’t strong enough back then. But it is now.”

“Are you saying I should… try again?”

“Yes. And you won’t have to do it alone. I’ll do what I can to guide you through it.” She got up, coming close to stand before him, putting her hands on his arms. “I believe you’re ready to let the echoes go.”

Under her intense stare, it was hard to come up with any kind of argument against it. What did he have to lose after all? If it didn’t work then he would continue to have the same nightmares he’d always had, the same voices talking away in his head, a constant background noise. The sudden prospect that he might be free of it was almost too good to believe.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice cracking a little.

She stepped back with a nod. “I need to get something first.” With that she disappeared to her cabin. Cal took two large gulps of his caf, wincing as it burnt on the way down, still a little too hot to properly enjoy.

Cere reappeared a moment later, this time holding the broken halves of the holocron. Cal wasn’t sure why she still had them but didn’t question it, simply following her to the door. Outside lay endless gentle hills of yellowish grass, rolling in waves in the light morning breeze. There was no sentient life on this planet, flying insects the most complex thing around. The sun continued its ascent, painting the clouds in hues of red and gold.

It was peaceful, even in a way that Bogano hadn’t been. The Force had been strong there, its currents sweeping him away. Echoes dotted the abandoned buildings, the Vault alone pulling him in with its presence. But here there was nothing. No past to accidentally brush against, the Force calm and steady, gentle like the breeze.

He walked out barefoot, following Cere a short distance from the ship. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d felt grass under his feet. There hadn’t exactly been much opportunity since escaping Bracca, and before then… well.

Cere eventually came to a stop, sitting down cross legged in the grass. Cal joined her, kneeling in his usual position. The ground was damp, seeping through his thin trousers. He didn’t mind. “It’s time for both of us to let go,” she said, placing the broken halves of the holocron on the ground. She held her hand out above it, the dirt around it beginning to shift. Slowly the pieces descended into the earth, burying what was left of their mission.

Cal watched in silence as the ground closed around it, the only evidence anything had happened a small path of bare earth. It wouldn’t be long before the grass grew over it once more. Cere let out a soft sigh when the deed was done, lowering her hand to rest in her lap. She was quiet for a moment longer, saying her goodbyes to everything she had lost to reach this point. To the hope of rebuilding the Jedi, to the younglings she would never meet. To the person she once was. And to Trilla, her Padawan, who had all her choices taken from her by forces outside their control.

She took a deep breath before lifting her head, visibly blinking back tears. “Your turn.”

“What do I need to do?” he said, trying to project some kind of confidence. He wasn’t hopeful, in part because he’d tried before and failed spectacularly. But also if he let himself hope—really, truly hope that he could be free of the voices—and then failed? He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to bring himself to try again.

“I think you need to let go of yourself. Sink into the echoes, relive them fully, and then release them.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “But it’s the best idea I’ve got.”

“Where do I start?”

“With Trilla. You shouldn’t have to carry her pain any longer. Now, close your eyes.”

Cal did as instructed, closing his eyes and letting his awareness spread out. He saw Cere in the Force, a bright shining beacon, the grass and insects dull in comparison. He reached that tipping point he was so familiar with easily enough, but he hesitated, unable to push himself over the edge.

“It’s okay Cal. I’m right here,” she said, wrapping him in the security of her presence like a blanket. Bolstered by her confidence, he took the plunge, tipping himself over the edge. He sought out one of Trilla’s echoes, trying to find one of the lighter ones first.

“Like this, Master?” she asked, adjusting her stance.

“Very good. Now, try to block my attacks.” She knew her master could move as fast as lightning when she wanted to, but for Trilla she slowed down, giving her enough time to react. She brought her lightsaber up to block the overhead strike, pushing her blade to the side.

Cere aimed for her side next. Trilla lowered her guard, sparks flying where their blades met. They went back and forth with Cere slowly increasing the speed of her attacks. Trilla tried her best to keep up, but inevitably she ended up moving too slow, the tip of Cere’s blade coming to a stop at the centre of her chest.

“Very good Padawan,” she said, clearly impressed as she lowered her weapon.

Warmth spread in her chest, unable to keep the grin from her face.

Cal slipped from the echo as it ended, but instead of letting it go, he held on, delving deeper. He embraced Trilla’s emotions captured in that moment, her uncertainty of learning a new move, her growing confidence as she managed to keep up with her master, and her glowing pride at the praise.

He stuck with it and did not pull away until he had experienced everything the echo had to offer. He let it wash over him, refusing to let it stick. This was not his burden to carry. As it came to an end once more, he let it go, drifting away from him, untethered. A strange, empty feeling made itself known in his chest, like a piece of him was missing.

It wasn’t a part of him, he reminded himself. It was a part of Trilla. It was her memory that had no right to take up space in his head.

He reached for another echo.

“We can’t stay here,” Cere said, keeping her voice low. “The clones are too close. They’ll find us before long, but we can’t move everyone like this.”

“Then what do we do?” Cere turned to look at the cave’s entrance and suddenly Trilla understood. “No. Don’t go. We need to stick together.”

“I’m going to lure them away and then I’m going to circle back,” she said. She was projecting calm into the Force, and while it may fool the younglings, Trilla knew she was just as scared as she felt. “Stay with the younglings Trilla. May the Force be with you.”

She stepped back, heading out of the cave. There was nothing Trilla could do to stop her. The younglings couldn’t be left alone. Someone had to look after them in case the clones found them. “Master! Don’t leave us!” she called uselessly after her.

As he had with the last echo, he pulled himself deeper, letting Trilla’s blinding fear and desperation wash over him. It took effort to keep himself disconnected from it, not allowing her emotions to influence his own. This one was harder, the negative emotions difficult to keep at bay. Still, he held on, only letting go when the echo finally started to fade. Once again he visualised it floating away in the breeze while he stayed in place.

He needed to keep going, chipping away at the layers of echoes.

Darkness, pressing in on all sides. It sank its claws into her mind, twisting her thoughts. It was so tempting to give in. It would be so easy. The pain would stop. It would, because she would have lost, the Empire needing nothing else from her but manufactured loyalty.

Electricity arced through her body, setting every nerve alight, her muscles straining against the straps keeping her in place. She didn’t have the energy to scream, the ability having long since left her. A strangled gasp escaped her lips, inaudible even to herself over the whirr of the interrogation chair.

An eternity later it stopped. It wouldn’t last. It never did. But she knew what to say to keep it this way.

It was so tempting to just give them what they wanted.

“Raise the levels,” the man said. Always the same man, though he’d stopped with his questions. They no longer asked about Cordova and his plans. They were doing this just to watch her burn.

Something in her irreparably shattered. She wasn’t strong enough to keep going. She tried to shout, to beg them to wait, but all that came out was a wheeze.