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According to Maul, their fleeing journey from Janix would be at least a couple of days long. His words were hushed, voice oddly low and soft, but Devon paid very little attention to him. She already agreed to be his apprentice, she already gave him what he wanted. Wherever they were going, she would follow him whether she wanted to or not. (What she wanted was revenge, cold and cruel, burning like corrupted kyber deep in her chest to match the bleeding crystal in the saber still clutched in her hand.)
While most of his words went unheard, his suggestion for her to rest did not. And yet when Maul finally gave her one last look before forcing himself upright and disappearing from the cramped cargo bay, Devon found herself unable to even consider resting. Instead, her aching eyes strayed to where Rylee was huddled against Two-Boots. The tactical droid couldn’t be comfortable to lean against, and yet Rylee was cuddled as closely as if the droid was an organic lifeform with soft edges and comforting warmth.
When she first met Rylee Lawson, she’d thought him soft, even silly. Frivolous, in a way. Sitting in his room full of trinkets and signs of a life lived in ease, Devon had dismissed the boy without even realizing it.
He was something, someone who was weaker than she and therefore needed her protection. It was a natural instinct after so many years as a Jedi, as a being whose entire purpose was to serve and protect those who could not protect themselves.
“You really should rest.” The droid’s voice startled Devon more than she would admit, and it was only her own exhaustion that kept her from flinching. “If you’re worried about being ambushed, don’t be. I will keep watch over Rylee, and over you, too.” It was oddly touching for a police droid, but even in the chaos of their mad dash to freedom, Devon didn’t miss the uncharacteristic level of care the droid had for the boy currently twisted in on himself. She supposed that care might extend to her now, if the droid saw them as similar, if only for their age and matching misfortune.
But Devon only shook her head. Even that small movement hurt; both from the injuries slowly manifesting in her awareness as the adrenaline melted away and the heady, dull ache that always came after crying. “I’m fine,” she muttered, gaze falling away from the droid and his human charge. “You can power-cycle, if you need. I’ll keep watch.”
Two-Boots tilted his head, golden photoreceptors blinking a few times. “I will not need to begin reserving my energy for at least another rotation,” he said instead. “Unlike you organic life forms, I was designed to remain conscious for prolonged periods of time even after extended energy excursions and exterior damage.”
The overly complex explanation made Devon’s mouth quirk in something that might have been a smile. It was odd being in close proximity to a droid, especially a model she was so used to running from after the few months spent on Janix. But it was also kind of comforting. She’d always been fond of the temple droids, always appreciated how blunt the protocol droids aboard the Venators were. Droids rarely came with the ability to hide or lie with any amount of believability, and that base-level honesty was something Devon greatly appreciated.
And so instead of resting, Devon carefully inched a little closer to the droid. She still had Maul’s saber clutched in one hand, but it felt wrong to clip it to her belt where her own hung for so many years. Instead, she just kept it close, one hand firmly gripping the hilt as the other steadied her movements. “Are all you Lawsons so stubborn?” She settled less than a meter away from Two-Boots, pulling her knees up and wrapping both arms around her legs. Between her thighs and her stomach, the unfamiliar saber’s kyber hummed, static that itched even through her clothes.
Of course, the droid only tilted his head at her. “I am not a Lawson. However, in my experience, stubborn rigidity is a trait favored by them.”
Devon shot him a look, one eyebrow creeping up. “Aren’t you, though? Kind of?”
Two-Boots only blinked at her. “Am I what?”
“A Lawson.”
Instead of responding, the droid glanced down at the sleeping boy still curled against his side. Briefly, he lifted one hand, the mechanical digits curling to mimic the round shape of the head tucked so closely to his shoulder, but he didn’t touch Rylee. Instead, the hand dropped away and he flicked his receptors back to Devon. “I am Captain Lawson’s field partner, and I have known Rylee for many years.” A pause, and the droid’s gaze flickered. “Was. I was Captain Lawson’s partner. But that does not make me a Lawson.”
The reminder of the recent loss did little to affect the dull ache in Devon’s chest. She didn’t need a reminder of the loss because it was all she could feel. In some ways, it felt inevitable. After all, this was the loss she and her master had been running from since the moment the galaxy fell to pieces.
Shaking herself, Devon pushed her focus back to the droid and to Rylee. “He’s gonna need you now, though.” She nodded a little, lekku twitching a little as she watched Rylee’s head slip even lower against Two-Boots’ shoulder. “Maybe you’re not a Lawson, but you’re all he’s got left.”
“Incorrect.” Despite the frank tone, the droid somehow managed to keep the soft, quiet tone, an obvious attempt to let Rylee remain asleep. “I will take him to his mother, and she will look after him.”
“Yeah, okay,” scoffed Devon. She didn’t need to be a Jedi to pick up on the discomfort Rylee showed at the few mentions of his mother. “But until then, it’s up to you and me to keep him safe.”
The piercing gaze that came with those modified photoreceptors felt heavy, but Devon tried not to shy away from it. “You include yourself in the list of Rylee’s protectors?” He seemed genuinely curious, even surprised. “I was under the impression you quite recently agreed to be the apprentice to a very dangerous criminal. I do not think you can be his apprentice and also keep Rylee safe, as all evidence points to those in close contact with Maul meeting very unfortunate ends.”
Damned droids always listening in… Devon sighed, hunching further in on herself. “Getting you guys somewhere safe will come first, and Maul will just have to accept that.” If he argued, well… he didn’t have much leverage, anymore. Devon would find her revenge with or without him. It would be easier, of course, with his training and strength, but she didn’t need him like he wanted her. “It’s my fault he lost his home. My fault he got captured. And he…” she trailed off, suddenly unable to continue, her throat closing, eyes stinging. Furiously, she blinked away the prospect of tears, even if she was pretty sure her body physically couldn’t produce any more.
“You and Rylee are in a unique position to understand each other,” said Two-Boots, nodding like he was finishing her sentence. That wasn’t what she was going to say, not the exact words, but the sentiment was correct.
When she looked up again, her vision finally clear again, she was met with the droid’s unblinking stare. Her attention caught, Two-Boots patted the floor beside him. At a skeptical look from Devon, the droid just blinked and patted the floor again. “Rylee is not the only one who lost someone today,” he said. “And from my many years observing humans and humanoids, particularly stubborn ones of your age, I have found that isolation is rarely an effective means of comfort.”
For a moment, the words just washed over Devon. The entire conversation, really, was so strange that she wasn’t really processing much of it.
She didn’t know this droid, not really. She knew he was obviously partially modified, most likely by Captain Lawson himself, and he’d chosen to rebel against his programming. She knew Rylee seemed to trust him, and both he and Captain Lawson even seemed to care quite a bit for the droid. But he was, quite literally, a tactical police droid. Nowhere in the base programming for any kind of police droid was there the need to care for the fragile emotions of the organics they served. In fact, Devon was pretty sure they were programmed specifically to disregard things like the emotions of organic lifeforms.
And yet here was this droid offering her a place beside him to mirror the boy he obviously cared for in his own binary way.
“You should do as he says.” The mumbled words startled both Devon and Two-Boots, especially when Rylee slowly pushed himself up. He looked terrible, obviously, but he didn’t do much more than sit up a little, still sticking close to the droid’s side. “He’s not a bad pillow.”
“Rylee Lawson, you are awake!” The droid’s focus fell entirely on the boy, yet he did not move more than to awkwardly crick his neck down to try and look at Rylee’s face. “You were not unconscious for long. I would recommend returning to that state.”
Rylee shot Two-Boots a blank look, his mouth twisting oddly, before he glanced over to Devon. “Seriously, he’s pretty decent to nap against.” When she just stared at him, his dark eyes flickered a little, cheeks reddening in obvious embarrassment. “I mean- uh. Never mind.”
Obviously Devon’s complete lack of response unsettled him, but that was no surprise. In the short time they’d spent together, it was made obvious rather quickly he had no real idea how to act around Devon. Whether it was the Jedi thing, the criminal thing, or the girl thing, Devon didn’t know, and didn’t really care to figure out. And yet, despite her lack of care and despite the disbelief that a police droid could be a comforting thing to cuddle up against, Devon scooted herself over until she mirrored Rylee’s position beside the droid. It made Rylee’s eyes go wide, and by some distant instinct, Devon tried to offer him a reassuring smile.
A quiet mechanical whir and shutter sound meant Two-Boots must’ve looked down and blinked at them, but Devon couldn’t quite see from this angle, especially with her focus on Rylee. But the droid’s voice was a gentle, buzzing hum now she was close enough to feel it from where her shoulder leaned against his metal one and the tip of one lek brushed the droid.
“I will keep watch,” he said, repeating his promise from earlier. “You should both get some rest.” After a moment, Devon felt the droid shift, and when she felt his arm moving, adjusted as he did until both she and Rylee were leaning more against his chestplate than his shoulders, his arms curled around each of their shoulders. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it seemed to make Rylee relax, so Devon did her best to at least pretend to enjoy the strange position.
After a few very long, very silent seconds, Rylee spoke up again. “I’m sorry about your master.” Like this, both held gently hostage by Two-Boots, they were so close that even the barely audible whisper was loud enough for Devon to catch the words.
She glanced up at Rylee, but was met only with the sight of messy, dark hair, as he was too curled in on himself to look at her. “I’m sorry about your dad,” she whispered back. “I’m sorry we dragged you guys into this.”
Rylee shook his head a little, still not looking up at her. “It’s not your fault. It’s the Empire’s fault. Dad used to always…” But he broke off, and Devon didn’t miss the way his shoulders hitched, the way his breath caught, the way his head bowed even lower. “I didn’t get why he hated them. I didn’t- I thought it was just…”
Maybe it was her instinct, the Jedi need to protect, or maybe it was her self-imposed obligation to look after this boy that lifted Devon’s hand. Whatever it was, she turned more into the droid between them so she could reach over and curl aching fingertips around Rylee’s wrist. It barely took any strength at all before he gave in, letting his arm move to hang in Two-Boots’ lap, Devon’s hand firmly wrapped around his wrist. He didn’t make any effort to reach for Devon or anything, but she did feel the way his tendons flexed as his hand clenched, knuckles pressing against her inner wrist.
For another few quiet moments they sat like that. The droid between them said nothing, apparently taking his job of watching very seriously, even if neither she nor Rylee were taking his suggestion to rest. Rylee’s hand remained tense, but he didn’t pull away from Devon, and so their point of contact remained while he quietly sniffled and Devon pretended not to hear.
When Rylee finally quieted down again and his hand started to go slack, Devon’s fingers uncurled around his wrist. But to her surprise, hesitant fingertips caught her own before she pulled fully away. It couldn’t really be considered holding hands, but they both held onto each other’s sleevecuffs, weak from exhaustion but instinctually desperate to seek out comfort from the other.
“I’m going to kill them.” Devon’s own words surprised her, voice more than a little rough. Briefly, she felt Rylee’s grip on her sleeve tighten. “I’m going to kill them all,” she repeated, now a promise both to herself and to Rylee. “For your dad, for my- for my master. I won’t let them get away with this.” She didn’t bother specifying who they were. The Empire, the Inquisitors, the Stormtroopers… it didn’t matter. In agreeing to be Maul’s apprentice, she’d chosen a very specific path, and that path was one of destruction.
If Rylee were another padawan, he might have echoed the words of the masters, of peace and letting go. He might’ve tried to talk Devon down from the edge of her hatred, might’ve tried to remind her what being a Jedi once meant.
But Rylee wasn’t a padawan. He wasn’t like her; or rather, wasn’t like who she was. And so all he said was a very quiet yet surprisingly steady, “Good.” Then he added, “And I want to help.”
“Rylee-”
He shook his head, finally sitting up again to look at her. From his close, Devon could see the redness in his eyes, the way his brows knit together, could see the shadows under his eyes that were bordering on bruises. She could even see a slight lump where he must’ve bitten his own lip hard enough to bleed. But despite his mildly pathetic state, the resolve in his hazy gaze was stronger than she expected. “I know I’m just some dumb civvie kid. But I can help.”
Holding his gaze, Devon wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him he had no business chasing after revenge, not when he could simply run to his mother and return to as normal a life as anyone could live under the Empire. She wanted to tell him this wasn’t his fight.
But she knew none of it was true. It was his fight now. He had as much right to revenge as she did. The days of his soft, easy life as a civilian were gone, Devon knew that. And while she hated it, hated she’d managed to so thoroughly ruin this boy’s life, there was a selfish twist that was glad for it. She was glad to have someone to share the all-encompassing rage and pain with; someone that wasn’t Maul.
So she didn’t protest any further. “Okay,” she whispered instead, curling her fingers more firmly against his sleeve cuff. Then, in a half-hearted attempt at humor, her eyes flicked up at the droid. “I guess you do come with a pretty useful asset,” she mumbled, missing any kind of casual tone by a mile.
It had the lackluster yet desired effect, and Rylee’s mouth twitched. “He’s good for more than being a watch dog and a pillow.”
“Rylee is correct.” Apparently tired of simply pretending he wasn’t listening to every word they were saying, Two-Boots’ voice thrummed against Devon’s lek where it was so pressed up against his chestplate. “I am equipped with both defensive and offensive measures, and my extensive internal database gives me unique access to Imp-”
“Two-Boots,” Rylee interrupted, shooting Devon a tired but amused look as he shook his head at the droid. Any other day, she might have snickered or shared in his exasperation. In that moment, all she did was watch the two interact with such familiarity. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel jealous, not when Rylee’s hand was still clinging to her and his droid’s arm was around her the same way it was around Rylee.
The droid went silent for a moment, then said, “Apologies, Rylee. I only meant that I will assist you in any way I can.”
Despite their exhaustion and Rylee’s visible despair, Devon didn’t miss the way his body relaxed more against the droid and his voice was a touch softer when he said, “I know, buddy. Thanks.”
With nothing left to say, Devon and Rylee both fell back into silence, still tethered by their tentative hold on each other. Two-Boots remained quiet as well, which was uncharacteristic of him, or at least what Devon knew of him; his arms remained firmly locked around both their shoulders, his internal mechanisms quiet as he remained a silent presence between them.
Belatedly, as she slowly relaxed less by choice and more due to the sheer intensity of her own exhaustion, Devon realized that for just a moment, the burning need for revenge hadn’t been the only feeling filling her chest. For a few extremely fleeting seconds, she’d forgotten Maul, wherever he was likely hidden away to lick his own wounds.
This naive human and peculiar droid were not who she would have chosen to escape with. A civilian boy and a police droid? The Devon of only a week ago would’ve been more than a little disbelieving. But the Devon of a week ago had a master who was kind, who she trusted, a master who cared for her and not just what she could do for him.
Earlier, she’d promised Two-Boots she would help protect Rylee, and that promise still stood. She also agreed, even if it was momentary, to let Rylee help her in their now mutual desire for revenge against the Empire.
She also now had an obligation to Maul, to the agreement she made. And it wasn’t just an obligation. He could give her what no one else could: power unmatched. She needed that power, both for the revenge she desired and for her own survival as well as Rylee’s.
After all, she never would’ve made it on her own, after the war. It was only thanks to the strength of her master she survived at all. Devon knew that on her own, she just didn’t have the power she needed.
As a Jedi, she was no stranger to a need for constant balance, especially when it came to the balance of obligations and personal desires. But never before had those two sides been so tangled, so twisted, and now she was without her master to guide her. Devon felt more than a little lost between the curling desire to inflict cruelty on those who hurt her, who hurt the boy she now needed to protect, and the pull to simply take Rylee (and Two-Boots) and run. Run from the Empire, from Maul, from anything and everyone, an instinct born of years hiding in shadows with her master and never staying in one place for long for fear of the Empire finding them.
But she already made her decision. Still trapped between her legs and her stomach, Maul’s saber sat at the edge of her awareness, distant whispering at the back of her mind.
And yet, despite the ice in her chest and the resolve to continue down her new path, Devon found herself watching Rylee as he slumped back against Two-Boots, eyes once again shut, his grip on her sleeve faltering, something wishful tugging at the darkness clouding her mind.
It was too late for her, she knew that. She’d known it the second she saw the red saber blade pierce her master, when she’d taken Maul’s blade and fallen into step with him to become a unified force. She was not so naive to expect or even hope she would make it out of this venture. Revenge was not the Jedi way, and it would consume her, she knew that. It was part of her choice, her decision, part of the power she needed.
But it wasn’t too late for Rylee. She would let him help, or at least let him try, let him sate his own desire for revenge for the father he lost. But there, huddled in a smuggler’s cargo bay under the unexpected attempted protection from a police droid, Devon promised herself she would not let this darkness eat away at Rylee. That weakness she first saw, the very thing that made her dismiss him, was what she would do her best to protect.
At the sound of halting, mechanical footsteps, Devon pushed the thought aside. The moment of quiet was over, and she needed to return to the present, needed to face her new master, even if the title made her feel sick.
Yet even as she pulled away from Rylee and Two-Boots to stand and meet Maul at his return, a little piece of her remained trapped in the sleeping boy’s grasp.
Devon would have her revenge, of that much she was certain, just as she was certain it would very likely be her doom. But it would be her doom, and hers alone. She couldn’t protect her master, could barely even protect herself.
If the darkness tried to take her, then so be it. It could have her, if in return it gave her the power she needed. And with that power, she would not let it touch Rylee Lawson.