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Greez’s hands shook as he passed Kata the salt. A few grains spilled onto the countertop - a small mess, barely noticeable to anyone but him. He suppressed a curse: they were short enough on resources as it was. Unnecessary waste would do them no favours.
Kata either didn’t notice the slip, or pretended not to. If his gambling days weren’t long behind him, Greez would’ve bet on the latter. She was smart - the kind of intelligence that made everyone forget just how young she was. But more than that, she had a sense for things. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the Force, but only Cal or Merrin could say for certain.
He brushed the grains into his hand, tossing them into the mixing bowl anyway. He blinked innocently when Kata gave him a look, hiding a smile behind a keep this quiet motion.
That sorted, his thoughts turned quickly back to the tremble. It wasn’t a new companion. It had snuck up on him, at first: an odd twitch when he was cooking, a dash too much sauce added or a pinch too much spice. Frustrating, but ultimately manageable.
But then it had started to affect his flying. His turns weren’t quite as sharp as he would’ve liked, his reactions slower than they used to be. He felt the weight of what that meant when the Mantis nearly lost an engine fleeing a squadron of TIE fighters, not long after the incident with the Fifth Brother; only a cloak from Merrin saved them from destruction. It was then that he had decided enough was enough: two weeks later, he touched down on Koboh for the first time, two-thousand extra credits to his name and the resolution to make Pyloon’s Saloon more than just a dream.
Now, three years later and an abyss away, he wondered if Pyloon’s still stood, or if it was little more than a smoking wreck, pillaged by Imperials as they searched for any evidence of Cal’s location. It wasn’t a concept he wanted to dwell on, so he turned his attention back to the task at hand: making dinner for those that had fled to Tanalorr with them. There were fewer of them than Greez would have hoped, but it meant they had been able to stretch the Mantis’ leftover food and emergency rations to almost a week so far. But they were running out. Despite their hopes, much of the plant life was inedible, and the part of the planet they occupied seemed uninhabited by any animals larger than birds. Pili had started to cultivate a garden, but it would take time for the crops to grow - time that they couldn’t afford.
The truth, which none of them wanted to acknowledge, was that - sooner or later - they would be forced on a supply run. With contact rendered impossible by the Abyss, they had no way of knowing what awaited them on the other side. Greez had spent long enough calculating odds to know that they were not in their favour.
Cal’s sudden call of ‘Greez!’ startled him from his thoughts, enough that he dropped the salt shaker, the tiny crystals spilling onto the Mantis’ floor.
Suppressing something between a sigh and a curse, Greez shouted back, ‘Yeah, Cal, in here.’ He turned to grab the dustpan and brush from beneath the sink, only to find that Kata had already found them and had started to clean up the mess. He thanked her, promising to finish showing her how to make his famous Greez-loaf once he’d finished with Cal. She hid a giggle behind her hand; disguising his own with a mock-splutter, he ruffled her hair affectionately, then looked back towards the door.
Cal hovered in the doorway, one foot still on the ramp. Greez beckoned to the sofa, but a glance from Cal made it clear he’d prefer to talk outside. Shrugging, Greez followed after him.
They’d landed the Mantis in the clearing outside the temple, next to Bode’s starfighter; the space sprawled a deceptive distance, with hidden caves forming access points to the temple’s lower levels. Merrin had mentioned that Cal had been exploring them - trying to map out spaces that could be used as more permanent living quarters or storage rooms. Greez wondered if it was one of these rooms that Cal was now leading him to; he was surprised when they stopped short, just before the entrance to the temple. The sound of the Reach’s residents filtered through to them, indistinct conversations punctuated by the occasional laugh. They were readying for the evening meal - or, what approximated for ‘evening’ on this planet, considering that its closest star was blocked by a thick nebula. The reminder made Greez itchy to continue his cooking, so he turned to Cal, whose gaze was caught on the mountain above them.
‘Everything alright, Cal?’ Greez probed. Cal looked back at him. Greez’d never had a problem meeting the kid’s stare before, but the still-alien gold of his iris came as a shock every time. After the first few times since the change, he’d stopped visibly flinching - but the feeling was still there, and judging by the way Cal averted his gaze, it was one he could pick up on. Greez felt a pang of guilt at that, compounded by the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one with the problem: in fact, no one - save maybe for Merrin, although Greez had caught even her breaking eye contact - seemed to be able to look Cal directly in the eye anymore. For some, it was because of the general unease that the Dark Side of the Force incited, even for non-Force sensitives. For others, they had a deeper understanding of what the yellow-red sheen meant. Greez…Greez wanted to believe that he was the former, but in the days since the attack on the Reach, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the Inquisitor he’d lost his arm to, and how Cal now also wielded a crimson blade.
He forced himself to keep his gaze steady as Cal said, ‘Yeah - yeah, Greez, sorry to interrupt your cooking. What’re you making?’
Greez recognised the tactic for what it was, but decided to play along. ‘Kata and I are making Greez-loaf. She’s a real natural, y’know?’
‘Careful, Greez - it sounds like you’re training your replacement,’ Cal joked, looking back at him with a smile that Greez took as genuine.
‘Hey now: no one’s going to be replacing ol’ Greezy anytime soon. She needs to learn all the recipes first! We’re starting with this,’ he said, listing on his fingers, ‘then tomorrow we’re going to try Great Granny Pyloon’s Umberhash. I was thinking maybe curried burra fish or scazz steak after that.’ He stopped short. ‘We’re outta scazz, aren’t we?’
Cal’s smile dropped. ‘We are,’ he intoned, tone sombre. ‘That’s part of why I wanted to talk to you. I was checking our stock this morning - Greez, it’s not looking good.’ He stepped forward. ‘We need to make a supply run.’
Greez sighed, running a hand across his face. ‘I was afraid you were gonna say that. How soon?’
‘Tonight.’ He placed a hand on Greez’s shoulder. ‘Believe me, I don’t want to go anymore than you.’
‘That’s debatable,’ Greez muttered. He was silent for a long moment, before a thought struck him. ‘What about Merrin? Isn’t she still-’
‘Out scouting?’ Cal interrupted. Nodding, he said, ‘I commed her earlier. She doesn’t think she’ll be back until tomorrow morning at the earliest. But we can’t wait, Greez. It should be approaching night at the Reach - we can use the darkness as a cover.’
Greez held up his hands. ‘Okay, okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some emergency bits down in the tunnels - y’know, the ones connected to Pyloon’s? Should tide us over until Pili’s crops bloom.’
‘Oh, I know. BD and I saw your collection. Some Boglings have made it their nest.’
BD-1 beeped his agreement, and then some.
‘I am not a hoarder!’ Greez answered back. ‘I’m simply prepared.’
BD bwooped a reply in a way that sounded suspiciously sarcastic. Greez wondered whether someone had installed an attitude setting in the droid, or if he’d picked it up during the half-a-decade he’d spent with Cal. Deciding not to start a fight he wouldn’t win, he chuckled fondly, the three of them lapsing into an easy silence as they headed back towards the Mantis.
~
An hour later, the Mantis jumped into hyperspace, leaving Tanalorr behind them. Greez set the ship to autopilot, stubbornly trying to ignore the shaking of his hands. From behind him, he heard Cal sigh.
‘Signal’s still blocked,’ he said. ‘We’ll be going in blind.’
Greez swivelled the chair to face him. Trying to lighten the mood, he half-joked, ‘We’ve faced worse odds before.’
‘Maybe,’ Cal answered, sounding unconvinced. The dim hyperspace lighting cast him in shadow: it should’ve been an eerie sight, the gold glow an unnatural light source, but the image was broken by the tension in his shoulders and the purplish bruises under his eyes. Greez was harshly reminded that Cal was barely twenty-three - twenty-three - and already carrying an insurmountable weight on his shoulders. As much as he hid it - behind humor, behind the fight, and now behind the new strength of the Dark Side - Greez could see fear creeping in.
He searched for a topic change, hoping to steer away from their potential demise. Trying - and probably failing - to hide the desperation in his voice, he said, ‘Talk to me, kid. I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we landed on Tanalorr! What’ve you been doing?’
Cal’s expression lifted ever-so-slightly. ‘Helping out where I can - finding more permanent places to sleep, as I think Merrin mentioned. And Pili needed a hand with her new garden.’
‘You and Kata work on that together?’ Greez asked. He’d already lost track of the times she’d come back to the Mantis covered in dirt. Safe to say, he’d put a blanket down to cover the potolli-weave.
Leaning back a little, Cal smiled softly. ‘Yeah, we did. She’s a great kid. Although, I think she’s taken my spot as Pili’s gardening apprentice.’
They both laughed at that, a soft thing, but concrete all the same. But the phrasing tickled Greez’s brain, reminding him of his earlier curiosity; after a few moments of comfortable silence, he couldn’t help but ask, ‘Speaking of apprentice…any idea if she’s Force Sensitive?’
Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, Cal sighed. He pulled out his blaster, starting to clean it, before he answered, ‘I’m not sure, Greez. I can’t feel any Force presence, but that’s not to say there isn’t one: Bode managed to hide his presence for months, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she can do the same. And after what happened to Tayala - not to mention the potential for Inquisitors to show up on Nova Garon - it’s likely that shielding herself from Darksiders comes as a second nature.’
‘But why-’ Greez’s question died on his lips, realisation rising to fill the gap. ‘Oh,’ he finished quietly.
Cal chuckled, though there was little humor in it. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It took me a minute to make the connection, too. I thought, at first, it might have been because of Merrin - given Nightsister magick is seen as Dark. But then I realised.’ He gestured first at his lightsaber, hanging as usual at his hip, and then to his eyes. ‘I may not be an Inquisitor, but I’m not as far off as I should be.’
Greez was silent for a long moment, watching Cal, whose gaze lay fixed on his blaster. He sounded bitter, and defeated - two things Greez did not associate with the survivor he’d known for nearly six years. It filled him with concern, enough to give his courage the push it needed; tone soft - not judging, as far as he could make it - he asked, ‘Why’d you do it, Cal?’
Cal’s hand stilled, his blaster only half cleaned. Eyes slowly tracking up to meet Greez’s gaze, he was silent for a long, long moment. Hyperspace was already cold - there were no stars to warm the Mantis’ exterior, and her heating was far from new - but the quiet seemed to freeze the air completely. Greez wondered, briefly, if each molecule had ceased its motion, impossibility be damned.
Finally, finally, Cal asked, ‘You mean Fall?’ Greez nodded, pointedly ignoring his still-shaking hands. Cal, observant as ever, didn’t miss the tremor. He dropped his stare again, returning to cleaning the weapon. Greez silently released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Continuing, Cal said, ‘I’ve spent the last decade surviving in a galaxy where just being a Jedi guarantees a death sentence. Every survivor I’ve met since has either Fallen or died, no matter what I seem to do or how much I fight. And the Ninth Brother’s appearance just showed that peace will never be an option. But Greez - I can’t keep losing people. The Dark Side was the sacrifice I made to ensure that I have the strength to do…to do whatever it takes.’
‘But what about us, Cal?’ Greez heard the strain in his own voice. ‘We can’t lose you, either.’
Cal huffed a laugh. ‘Merrin said nearly the same thing.’
Greez was on his feet before the intention properly registered, a hand reached towards Cal in desperation. ‘Because it’s true, Cal! You remember what I said, about this being a rigged game? Just because you think you hold the cards now, it doesn’t mean your luck’s gonna turn!’ Cal didn’t respond, just kept cleaning the blaster, hand moving up and down across the barrel in a motion that would have been soothing if it wasn’t so damned infuriating. Sighing, Greez saw that his words weren’t getting through, not with Cal’s current headspace. Vowing to bring the issue up again once they were back on Tanalorr, he sat back in his chair, finishing, ‘Please kid, just don’t shut us out. Just look at what that did to-’ He was cut off by the computer beeping, alerting him that they were about to drop out of hyperspace. He turned back to the controls, readying for a quick descent. ‘Kid-’ He called, but Cal beat him to it.
‘Already on it,’ Cal said. After a moment, he continued, ‘Comm’s still out of action.’
‘Damnit,’ Greez swore. ‘With any luck, they won’t think we’re stupid enough to come back.’
‘Since when has luck been on our side?’
Greez suppressed another sigh. ‘You’re still not great at pep talks, Cal.’ His console beeped again. ‘Dropping out of hyperspace in 3, 2, 1…’
~
The descent was smoother than Greez had worried. Apart from the Star Destroyer, Koboh’s atmosphere was only sparsely populated by TIE fighters. Merrin’s presence would have made the trip easier, but they’d landed in one piece, and unseen at that. His anxiety hadn’t been alleviated, however, when Cal suggested Greez wait on the ship. Greez’d protested, but Cal’s argument that he would better be able to evade the Imperial patrols was a true one. Finally, he’d agreed, making the kid promise to remain safe - and to check up on Pyloon’s. With a smile, Cal had agreed, setting off with BD perched on his shoulder.
Now, sitting alone in the Mantis, Greez couldn’t deny that he had always hated waiting. When he’d first started hiring out the ship, he’d needed the money to pay off his debts with the Haxion Brood. Waiting meant wondering if the source of his income was going to wind up dead in a ditch, with him following suit not long after. Then Cere had hired his services, and somewhere along the line they’d become family. Waiting then became worrying, every moment fearing that Cere had been captured by the Empire again. The feeling had only intensified when Merrin and Cal joined them. The stress made him regularly wonder how his heart had lasted as long as it had.
Waiting now nearly had him breaking out in a nervous sweat. Hidden behind a cliff face, near the back entrance to the tunnels through Phon’Qi Caverns, he felt the precariousness of their position keenly. He had yet to spot any Imperial patrols, but knew that didn’t mean there weren’t any.
It was just approaching the hour mark when Cal finally returned. Greez practically leapt out of his seat when he heard the door open, hurrying out of the cockpit. Cal stood in the doorway, one bag slung over his shoulder and another dropped on the floor beside him, both full to the point of bursting.
‘You’re back! I tell you, you had me worried for a sec there, kid. What took you so long?’ Greez rushed over to grab the second bag off of him, turning to secure it to one of the benches lining the walls.
‘We ran into a group of Dagan’s followers,’ Cal answered. He sounded oddly detached: it gave Greez pause. He looked back towards Cal.
‘Kid? Are you…are you alright?’ he asked.
‘They’re dead,’ was Cal’s reply.
‘That’s not what I asked, Cal.’
‘That’s what matters, isn’t it?’ Cal shrugged. He hadn’t moved from his position. Greez noticed that BD stood apart from Cal, beeping worriedly up at him. A sudden sinking feeling forced Greez forward, abandoning the half secured bag.
‘You know it isn’t. Talk to me, kid, what’s going on?’ His voice shook. He didn’t try to disguise it.
Cal stayed silent, too long for comfort. Finally, he said, ‘When we got to Tanalorr, I had an idea. I suggested to Merrin that I work as the Second Brother to take the Inquisitorious down from the inside. She disagreed.’ Cal’s gaze rose to meet Greez’s. ‘But I can’t risk the Empire finding Tanalorr to get to me.’
The pieces clicked together in Greez’s mind with a rush of terrible certainty. Suddenly, Cal insisting that they had to travel tonight - without Merrin - made dreadful sense. ‘Cal,’ he said, meaning to be firm, to try and snap Cal out of whatever headspace he’d got himself in, but the word left him in a single exhale, somewhere between a sigh and a cry. ‘Don’t do this. You know what they did to Trilla, to Cere! They’ll tear you apart!’
‘I told you I’d do anything it takes.’ Cal took a step back, raising his blaster. ‘I’m sorry Greez, but this is the only way.’
Greez saw in that moment that nothing he could say or do would convince Cal that there was another option. He was stuck in darkness, unable to see light in any direction, equipped with no other tools than the ability to fight, as he’d been doing all his life. Feeling something between mourning and acceptance, Greez didn’t try to follow Cal. Instead, meeting Cal’s gaze, he said, ‘I’m sorry too, Cal.’
A second later, his world went dark.
~
Greez awoke to BD nudging him in the side, offering him a stim, and a feeling that Cal had long since left the planet. Even so, it didn’t stop him from rising shakily and rushing down the Mantis’ still open ramp, BD following behind him. He looked to the sky, hoping to catch sight of - what, he wasn’t sure - but was met only by the twin giants of the Star Destroyer and the Koboh Abyss.
Stuck between them, reminded of his own mortality in the wake of such colossal things, Greez could understand why Cal couldn’t see a path where peace was an option. He turned back to the Mantis, the early morning sun just beginning to reflect off of her hull.
BD-1 beeped at him, his antenna flat to his head. What now?
‘I don’t know, BD, I don’t know. For now, we head back to Tanalorr with the supplies. But I promise you, we will get Cal back.’ He cast one more glance up at the sky, allowing himself one quick search. He thought he saw a flash of something that might have been a ship, but it was gone just as quickly. ‘We will.’