Chapter Text
Anakin Skywalker was many things: a General of the Grand Army of the Republic, Knight of the Jedi Order, former apprentice of the legendary Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master of Padawan Ahsoka Tano. He was also way more than those titles signifying his relations and affiliations - courageous, kind, impulsive, reckless (a descriptor that Anakin felt was false), prone to bouts of emotional instability, and more.
Right now, though, Anakin was two things: apprehensive and perplexed. The former was understandable; not only was he and the 501st, along with elements of the 104th battalion undertaking an invasion of the mining planet of Minntooine, a key stronghold for the Separatists and specifically, the Commerce Guild.
The Council had received key information from the Chancellor’s spy network that Shu Mai, the Presidente of the Commerce Guild and a member of the Separatist Council had taken refuge here to avoid the fighting ongoing - once again - on Felucia. But that wasn’t what had Anakin cautious.
Exactly 24 hours ago, General Skywalker had requested Rex lead a scouting party to make a perimeter around the new base of operations with the usual assortment of men - Jesse, Echo, Fives, Tup - along with a platoon of freshly battle acquainted troopers.
Standard procedure, had Rex nor any of the others commed him or Ahsoka or even Master Plo Koon, who had decided to lead his contingent in person while the rest of the battalion was on shore leave. This was highly unusual.
The odd part came from the fact that, when he had sent another platoon to go look around the whole perimeter, there were no signs of a scuffle. Well, not any that came from outside of battle.
“They still haven’t contacted, Master?” Ahsoka asked, her face just as contorted in confusion as Anakin, her brow furrowed in a way that reminded him of Obi-Wan right now.
“No. I would understand if they were captured by the droids, or bounty hunters or something. But nothing. I cannot feel anything weird - or more weird, to be clear - in the Force either so I think they’re still alive.” he answered.
“Could we consider desertion? It sounds so unlike Rex, or any of them really but…” she left the unspoken part out: ‘but this war has been changing people at an alarming rate.’ Anakin could see it in the men more sharply every day as the war didn’t seem to be coming to a close - if anything, it was hitting new levels of intensity every week.
The men were getting more tired every battle- no, every skirmish even. Shore leave once had felt like a deserved vacation after a major battle or siege. Now, it felt like it was just a temporary reprieve before being thrown back into hell rather than a genuine time to rest. And even those shore leaves were cut short so often that the clones had begun to calculate how many days, not weeks they had to recuperate and grieve their fallen brothers.
And Anakin himself could see the effects of the war first-hand not only physically, but mentally as well: the once unflappable and cool Ahsoka, a beacon even amongst the Jedi for her kindness and compassion towards life had become a bit jittery and restless during the lull in battles, the shadows under her eyes never leaving. Obi-Wan’s demands for results increase not from a lack of caring but from the want, the need to have the war end sooner rather than later.
The Council was less involved in the lives of the Jedi and more preoccupied with battle plans and mission briefs with the Senate: Master Yoda rarely ever exhibited any energy beyond the minimum needed to operate. Mace had become colder and more prone to using his authority as Master of the Order to get his way. The Jedi were becoming more politically involved, and while Anakin did feel like that way, they could not only help influence the decision-making of the Senate but change the galaxy for the better, the Order seemed to be getting more and more confrontational with the Chancellor which was just ridiculous!
Palpatine was a good man, who was trying to do his best for the Republic. Sure, he made the wrong calls from time to time but at least he was attempting to save the Republic! The Jedi Order and its Council was more than willing to sit on its laurels and deliberate about deliberating about deliberating about taking a single step by themselves without oversight by the Senate!
“No. No, there’s no way. Rex is a soldier, through and through. I know it’s been a rough deployment, Snips, but-” Anakin was about to comfort Ahsoka before the commlink beeped.
The master-padawan duo looked at each other as they recognised the encryption. It was a standard GAR-issued holocomm signal, but the last four numbers signified that the owner was an officer from the 501st Legion.
When Anakin had the signal be put through the large holoprojector of the house he had had his men commandeer as his newest HQ, the sight made his blood run cold:
The good news was that Anakin could see Rex was alive and well, forced onto his knees with his hands behind his head and his DC-17 blasters had been gotten rid of, but at least he was still breathing. The bad news was that he couldn’t see anyone else of his scouting party with him. Anakin was hoping that they were just out of camera shot, but he was trying to prepare himself for the possibility of them also having perished during this surprise ambush.
Speaking of an ambush…
The two people who were definitely not part of his detachment couldn't have made for an odder pair: on the left was a Twi’lek woman, with deep blue skin and no distinguishable markings on her other than the lekku, which had a somewhat wavy kind of texture to it. She had clear wrinkles on the edges of her mouth and her eyes had a clear sign of mischief to them. She was dressed in civilian clothes as well - a grey jumpsuit, plain and boring as if to not draw any kind of attention to her.
She was also holding a blaster to the back of Rex’s head as she seemed to be whispering things to the man, whispers that Anakin wasn’t privy to as his eyes pivoted to the person on the right and paused.
In terms of appearance, he looked like he was torn straight from the history lessons Anakin had had at the Temple and his worst nightmares:
Anakin’s best guess was that the figure was male due to the lean, somewhat muscled figure he could picture under his outfit. That was the only part of him that Anakin could identify as otherwise, the man was fully obscured, wearing a mask that covered his whole head in black and red with robotic red orbs where eyes were supposed to be and a respirator mask that had two prongs that reminded Skywalker of Plo Koon except they were thinner and sharper.
He was wearing a black chestguard over some padded tunics that also featured protruding shoulder pads and a high collar that both had a protective function and also was where his cape was flowing down, reaching his shins.
Covering his hands were thick gloves, going far past his wrist and ending about halfway to the elbows. On his hip was a belt of some sort, dark red in color and a metallic clip at the middle, two lightsabers resting at either side. Further down were black greaves and armored, knee high boots that Anakin swore were made out of some sort of lightweight metal.
The whole outfit was screaming danger, but it was his presence in the Force that alarmed Anakin.
It was nothing like that of Count Dooku or Ventress but the signature was similar, just…more potent. Not like Dooku’s carefully hidden presence in the Dark Side that had fooled the Jedi Council, nor Ventress’ dam of anger and rage that was made to burst at exactly the right moment to surprise her enemies.
This one felt like the presence of someone who had never felt the need to hide his darkness, as if he could not be bothered to do so or had never done so before. And yet, Anakin hadn’t been able to feel him before. What was going on?
“Good afternoon, General Skywalker.” The man greeted Anakin, his voice disturbing and crackling due to what Anakin would guess was a voice modulator built into the mask. His stature was rigid before he jerked his head to the side, noticing Ahsoka before looking back at Anakin who was having a hard time keeping his composure right about now.
“Just so we are clear on this, I will let you know right now that I will come for you if you so much as breathe at Rex the wrong way.” Anakin threatened, which made the Twi’lek woman pause and gaze at the holo projection in shock.
The general maybe couldn’t see the man’s face right this second due to the helmet obscuring his features, but he was pretty sure Rex was grinning widely at his general’s protectiveness over his men. The threat seemed to entirely miss its mark however, as the masked man only chuckled at the preposition.
“I don’t think you quite realize the situation that your men are in.” before he reached beside his hip to one of his lightsabers and ignited it, a crimson hue projected through the holo.
The red blade confirmed Anakin’s, and he was pretty sure of Ahsoka's suspicions as well - the man was a Sith. A powerful one at that. Possibly even a Sith Lord. But that was impossible. One Sith lineage, the Jedi may have missed yes but two? That was just screaming of incompetence on the Order’s behalf.
Sensing the growing danger, Anakin forced himself to calm down enough to not fly off and deal with this wretch himself as he looked at the Sith and asked: “What do you want? A prisoner swap? For me to come and become a prisoner myself in exchange for the men' s safety?”
He would not let these men suffer any more than they had to. Casualties in battle was one thing - Anakin had no more control over it. Force knew how he wished he did. To protect each and every one of his men was an urge that Anakin Skywalker could not let up, to Obi-Wan’s exasperation and the Council’s growing annoyance.
But when it was outside of battle, when he could control the individual actions that war was not kind to anyone involved, he would always choose his men over himself.
It was a sentiment that often caused rescue missions to be staged; more often than not, the men had to come back with either Ahsoka or Obi-Wan leading them to get Anakin out of the predicaments he was willing to jump into headfirst to protect the 501st.
It was a sentiment that Anakin had thought the ambush party would be aware of. Instead, the man shook his head and said: “Something far simpler, in my mind at least. But you are right, someone will be coming here for negotiations.”
The masked Sith’s words were meant for Anakin, that was clear, but his gaze had landed on his Padawan and never left her. Figuring out the prick’s plan, Anakin quickly shut down the idea.
“No! Hell no! You are not making me send Ahsoka there!” he roared, the very idea absolutely unfathomable to him. Anakin would not send Ahsoka to someone as evil as a Sith, for ‘negotiations’. Yeah right, as if they were actually going to do that. No, no way.
Unfortunately, it looked like the duo didn’t like the sound of that as the Twi’lek woman’s eyes hardened and she pressed the blaster she had been aiming at Rex’s head into the back of his skull. The man himself huffed impatiently as he turned back to Anakin, his blade never going out and said:
“Your choice. My friend here will be sending you our coordinates. We are giving you two hours to send a delegation, in case you decide to change your mind and not throw away perfectly valuable lives. The commander would be representing your…legion, was it? In your stead. The men can’t be having their general running amok now can they?”
The term was purely used to taunt Anakin, and he was annoyed to admit that it was working. These would also be the last words uttered to Anakin by the man as the holoprojector ceased to broadcast the signal.
Anakin was also horrified to see that instead of seeing the foolhardiness of this request, she was actually considering it. Something that Anakin quickly decided to put an end to: “You are not going, Ahsoka. Absolutely not. Can’t you see that this is a trap?”
The Padawan was Anakin Skywalker’s for a reason though, as she sharply retorted, “Of course it’s a trap! Clearly it is! But what choice do we have? The man was very clear on wanting me.”
“You’re not thinking that they will actually abide by their promises? We’re dealing with a bounty hunter and a Sith. We clearly need to prepare an extraction team-” Anakin was cut off by Ahsoka’s objections surfacing again.
“We’re risking losing way more men this way regardless of if it’s just the two of them or if they have a droid army out of view, Master. And I doubt they’ll give us the troops back without a scratch if they see gunships approaching. I need to go by myself and save them.”
“This is not in question, Ahsoka. I am not putting you in this kind of risk. I’m sure Rex and the others will find a way to get back to us.” Anakin replied, though his voice was unsure of itself. Their enemy was either strong enough to take an entire platoon and the best-trained soldiers of the Republic by just the two of them, or there were more of them. Neither prospect was giving his men good odds.
“What is going on, Knight Skywalker?” Master Plo Koon interrupted, stopping Anakin and Ahsoka’s argument in its place as he entered the room they were in. “You two could be heard on the other side of the camp. I was afraid we were being ambushed.”
The Kel Dor said, his rumbling voice betraying his amusement at the two even with the mask hiding his lower face.
“We aren’t, but our scouting party was. And, get this, they want me to send Ahsoka to negotiate on my behalf. And Ahsoka wants to do it!” Anakin said, glad that the elder Jedi had entered. He could talk some sense into Ahsoka!
Plo Koon looked down at the floor for a second and steepled his finger together in front of him, deep in thought. After a bit of deliberating, instead of outright telling Ahsoka that it was a dumb idea (which it was, Anakin insisted), he started asking questions from Anakin.
“Who ambushed them?”
“A group of two, it would seem. A bounty hunter and…a practitioner of the dark side.”
“Is he the one that I can sense on this planet? His power is considerable and not like anything that I have encountered in a long time. Not even the few glimpses of Count Dooku’s strength I had were this potent.”
“He is. Maybe Dooku decided to partake in the ye old Sith tradition of having multiple apprentices? They’re getting uglier as they come.” Anakin said, causing a snort to escape from Ahsoka and a sense of mirth to emanate from Master Plo, but he shook his head at the idea.
“I’m afraid that cannot be the case, young Skywalker. This practitioner is not hiding his presence in the slightest. Even Ventress has the mind to cloak herself in the darkness that has been permeating throughout the galaxy for these past few decades.”
“What other choice is there, Master? That the Jedi have missed another Sith lineage? They’re starting to look less and less ‘vanquished’ if they keep popping up.” Ahsoka retorted, distrustful of the possibility that this was a separate Sith. Anakin was inclined to agree with her on that front.
Plo shook his head at that as well, reassuring her: “I doubt that as well, little ‘Soka. Maybe they are just a simple Force-sensitive that has taken the path of darkness.” The two could hear a hint of sadness in his tone at the possibility.
“Even so, Sith or no Sith, they have leverage over us. And we are getting those men back. Without sending Ahsoka.” Anakin insisted, which made Ahsoka get ready to start arguing again before the Jedi Master held up one of his hands, getting their attention.
“I think I have found a compromise that will satisfy our esteemed friends while keeping little ‘Soka safe.”
‘We are so kriffed.’ Ahsoka thought as the gunship was beginning its descent. There was a detachment of a clone company stuffed within it - orders of Anakin - and Master Plo Koon was next to her, holding onto the railing with one hand and gripping Ahsoka’s shoulder with the other.
“They will be returned to us, little padawan.” he tried to reassure Ahsoka, but her nerves were so bundled up by now that it wasn’t really helping. Releasing her emotions into the Force hadn’t been working as well as she had been hoping for; the hour and a half of travel to a somewhat close drop-off point was spent on making up scenarios for whatever they were walking into.
Once Ahsoka and Master Plo had been dropped off, the gunship took off to land in a deeper part of the forest the meeting was taking place in. They were ordered not to interfere unless Ahsoka was to send them a distress signal to the pilot.
With the time deliberating on the plan, the very-rushed preparations and the travel time combined, there was only ten minutes left to reach the clearing where the coordinates were leading them towards. It was manageable, but Ahsoka feared that the time frame was a bluff, that they wouldn’t actually wait the two hours and that they would lose patience, gunning down every one of Ahsoka’s friends and brothers-in-arms. That they would walk into the aftermath of a massacre, or that the gunship had been seen and the ambush party would get rid of Rex and Fives and Jesse and Echo and Tup-
“Calm, little one. Your fretting will not do them any good. Breathe in,” Master Plo instructed Ahsoka through their bond, which she quickly followed in desperate need for some stability.
Breathe in.
“breathe out.”
Breathe out.
“Breathe in,”
Breathe in.
“breathe out.”
Breathe out.
The Force streamed in as Ahsoka regained her calm that, now that she had started thinking about, had left her so suddenly and quickly the closer they had gotten.
“Master, what is going on?” she asked, hoping the elder Kel Dor had an answer. He did, but it was not a comforting one:
“The Sith often inflate their emotions within the Force to darken the atmosphere, causing our brains to interpret it as if confronting a tense situation that allows us to start overthinking, which in turn creates a feedback loop and causes feelings of panic within us.”
“But…this is the first time I’ve ever felt anything like it. Ventress has never felt like him.” Ahsoka argued back.
“Ventress is Dooku’s assassin, not his bodyguard. Her missions required her to hide her presence. It would seem our new friends don’t have that kind of restriction.” Plo remarked to her.
“So maybe he is a new apprentice? Another meatbag to throw in the GAR’s way?” she reasoned, though that too didn’t seem to sit well with Plo.
The clearing was about a hundred meters away now, and Ahsoka could feel that the meeting party had already arrived.
“The Count wouldn’t employ someone more powerful than him - too many variables here,” Master Plo cut himself off as they emerged from the forest line, and the sight Ahsoka was met with was a lot better than she had imagined:
The pair were there, yes, but they had not harmed the men for the most part. Most had woken up by now with an astonishingly small number of bruises, bar for Fives whose helmet was discarded, who had two pairs of black eyes and a lump on the top of his head and he was glaring daggers at the Twi’lek woman who, while not wilting under Fives’ gaze, did seem to be apologetic at the look of the trooper.
Ahsoka, and she imagined Plo Koon, were shocked to see that on the side however, three of the troopers were seriously injured - the left one had lost his left forearm, the right one had lost both of his legs underneath the knees, and the one in the middle had been blinded.
Luckily, they were the unconscious ones; being awake would only have caused them the most excruciating of pains. The commander could still remember the moans of pain at the med bay from the few remaining men of a clone platoon who had engaged Ventress at the Battle of Tipoca City.
The Sith whirled around at the approaching Jedi, his gaze narrowing at the sight of Plo Koon. “I knew I should have clarified my request for only the commander meeting us.” He growled, clearly not having expected the extra company.
‘Oh then he’s not gonna like our surprise.’ Ahsoka thought while the Twi’lek spoke up with a teasing tone: “Honestly boss, you should’ve seen it coming from a klick away. You’re losing your touch.”
To Ahsoka’s surprise though, the Sith didn’t glower at his subordinate for speaking out of turn like she had heard Dooku was wanton to do- instead, he just whipped his head towards the bounty hunter.
“Thanks for the backup, Vette. You are an invaluable pillar of support.” to which this ‘Vette’ only replied with “You’re welcome, boss!”
“This…is confusing.”
“Likewise, little one. To be honest, I am now confused as to which one is actually in charge here.” Plo replied through their bond before clearing his throat, bringing the attention back to him before talking, adopting a diplomatic undertone to his rumbling bass:
“We have not been introduced, friends. I am Master Plo Koon of the Jedi Order. This is Padawan Ahsoka Tano. You have kidnapped and wounded men of the 501st Legion of the Grand Army of the Republic. Why have you committed this act of violence?”
At the announcement that the two were Jedi, Vette and the Sith did a double-take and only now shooting their gazes towards their hips where their lightsabers lie, with Vette in particular seeming to now have second doubts. The Sith forged on, however:
“Darth Wrath, Lord of the Sith and leader of this endeavor. Vette, my friend and accomplice. As for why we ambushed your men, simple: we needed to make contact with someone.”
“And you decided that you needed to kill them?” Ahsoka exclaimed, heading towards the men off to the side and deciding to ignore the fact that they were dealing with a kriffing Sith Lord by his own admission.
Neither the two nor Plo stopped her as she approached them, with Vette meekly stating “They just lost some of their limbs. No one died.”
The clones that were awake flinched at that assumption and Ahsoka knew why: losing a limb meant being deemed defective, whether on the battlefield or the Kaminoans themselves. Being defective meant being sent back to Kamino and being “decommissioned.”
Ahsoka could still remember the exact words Rex used to describe it one night, after she had seen him drinking himself to a stupor for the third night in a row after a rough deployment and she had suggested reporting his mental issues:
“It’s a polite way of saying you will be taken to Kamino in straps and being put to the needle by the long-necks. We were once shown the decommissioning of a defective clone. Commander, the man writhed on the operating table for half an hour before lying still and being thrown into the furnace. The lesson was that “there would be no mercy towards the broken ones.”
No attempts at fixing them; making new brothers instead of saving them is cheaper for them. And making cheap products seems to be the memo in this galaxy.”
“They may as well be dead, you idiot.” Jesse spoke through gritted teeth, also staring at the back of Vette though his glare was hidden behind his bucket.
“The lieutenant is right. Those wounded may need to be decommissioned due to your actions, Lord Wrath.” Plo spoke with heavy weight behind his words.
Darth Wrath bristled at the tone before taking on an apologetic one: “I hadn’t meant to injure them quite so badly. A miscalculation on my part, I apologize.”
Did…did Ahsoka just enter a hallucination or had she heard a Sith apologize? What was going on there?
“Well, you made contact. What do you want from us?” Ahsoka brought the conversation back to its original track, which seemed to please Wrath and Vette - neither of them wanted to deal with this for much longer either, it seemed.
“We want a million credits and enough fuel to leave this planet. Please do not negotiate on this; my boss is an impatient man and you made him lose two hours of beauty sleep.” Vette pleaded with the Jedi and Darth Wrath joined Fives and Jesse in sending death stares her way.
“That is not a small amount, you must understand.” Master Koon replied to their demands to which the Sith Lord whipped his head back in the Kel Dori’s direction, making Ahsoka worried about the amount of whiplash the man must be experiencing.
“It’s enough to make us leave this planet and not bother the Republic again, not to mention returning high-ranking soldiers of ‘the best legion in the GAR.’ Wouldn’t that be reason enough to accept our demands?” the Darth replied, making Ahsoka cringe at whoever had stated that- Jesse. Definitely Jesse. Irrefutably Jesse.
“What? It’s true!” Jesse replied once Ahsoka had laid her eyes on him, making her groan but also smile at her friend getting them into trouble even when he was captured.
But Ahsoka could understand why Master Plo was so hesitant to depart with the credits; despite the excellent performances, or perhaps because of them the 501st’s, who would undoubtedly have to pay the ransom, war coffers were straining to afford even operational costs. That had led to Skyguy constantly filling out paperwork, asking the Senate for more funding.
‘Funding that never came.’ Ahsoka thought bitterly before focusing on the present again, witnessing Master Plo trying to negotiate the price down,
“500,000 would be enough to start a new life on any planet in the galaxy. We simply cannot afford to spend any more on one platoon, I’m sorry.”
Ahsoka could feel the second sentence was for both the Sith and also for her and though she understood the sentiment, she was still angry over the fact that they had to put costs on their men’s lives! She knew the elder Jedi was of the same mindset but-
The sound of a lightsaber could be heard as the Sith Lord had taken his weapon out again and ignited it, the red glow nearing Tup who had been bleeding anxiety into the Force the whole time and that feeling now skyrocketed as the Jedi ignited their own lightsabers.
“I am losing patience, Jedi. You will comply, or your men will perish." he threatened, earning a worried look from Vette who drew her own blasters from their holsters.
“This has gotten out of control.”
“Contact the company. Request backup.”
Sending a feeling of acknowledgement through their bond, Ahsoka used a slight nudge of the Force to press a hidden mechanism in one of her vambraces, sending out a distress signal to any connected secure channel. She received two beeps in quick succession, followed by a long one.
“Two klicks out. Request acknowledged, moving out.” Ahsoka relayed the message.
"We do not have the credits required to fulfil your demand, Sith. If we did, these same men would be put in danger." Plo Koon rumbled again, trying once more to resolve things peacefully. It was a sentiment that Vette seemed to agree with, as she told her partner:
"I don't think they're bluffing. Let's get what we can and leave. No point in fighting them over this."
It seemed like the Sith was aware of it himself, still gripping his lightsaber but now losing some of his aggression as he moved towards Vette. Before the two sides could come to an agreement, however, the sounds of marching came from the northern side of the clearing.
Very much not-clone marching.
"That’s a Separatist army coming right at us. It's an ambush!"
The word "separatist" didn't ring a bell in Vette's head, but she understood the rest of the statement very well. And she saw that army coming, as columns upon columns of battle-droids wielding blasters in front of them emerged from the trees, with one of them, a droid with some yellow markings on them ordered:
"Fire on the Jedi!"
What Vette was shocked about was that they were counted under that order as well, as about a third of the droids opened fire on her and Artanken as well, with one bolt coming dangerously close to Vette's forehead that she hadn't noticed before Arkanen whipped his lightsaber around and started to protect her as the Twi'lek shifted her aim to the droids, taking down five of them with a few well placed shots.
But every time Vette took down one, four took its place. She was sure that, if Artanken jumped into the fray and started cutting down the droids, the army would be taken care of in a jiff. But she also knew that her sareen would not leave Vette without cover where one stray shot could create a straw hole in her head.
A restraint the Jedi luckily didn't have, as they leapt straight into the droid formations, cutting them down in the dozens and surviving despite the inferior number. Things were manageable.
Until about three platoons of "clones" arrived. That's when everything turned to hell. Because that turned the skirmish into a full-blown battle. A battle both of them knew they could not afford to be a part of, regardless of how formidable the two were as a team and individually as well.
One of the shots from a droid deflected by Artanken’s lightsaber found its way into the chest of a clone trooper, and that's when they weren't looking at a battle on one front but two. Regardless of Artanken’s strength, Vette knew he couldn't protect her like he wanted to out in a clearing where they couldn't find cover of any sort.
"We have to retreat to the ship, boss!" she yelled over the blaster fire. Artanken didn't turn her way, but she could see a minute nod from him, the most she would get at this point. They began to angle themselves in a way that left the droids and clones in one, somewhat wide area.
Artanken pulled back for a second before extending his arms as wide as possible and used the Force to push everyone and everything back as far as possible, catching everybody off guard, including the Jedi Master who was sent hurtling like a battering ram into the droids, taking down many of them with his body but definitely taking a serious amount of damage as well.
"Master!" The young girl, Ahsoka, yelled towards the droids and made to retrieve the Kel Dori but before she could, the backlines of the battle-droid columns moved up and returned fire on the Padawan.
The clones wouldn't advance towards them, because with the push Artanken had sent the hostages into their brothers in-arms, who had been their main objective most likely. They had no reason to follow them.
So, with the opposing armies distracted for the most part, Vette took off into a run. Artanken stayed behind for a bit, blocking any shots headed her way before also heading into the forest opposite where the Jedi had emerged from, where their ship was hidden a few klicks away.
***
They ran for a while, their plan having backfired so horrendously Vette was laughing hysterically about it. Not only did they not know where they were, now they had made an enemy out of the Republic!
'Well, by all technicalities we just reminded them of our existence.'
Thanks, logical Vette! That part of her had been missing when Artanken had come up with his crazy idea that was supposed to get them enough credits that they would survive for a while and also get off of this desolate planet. Or desolate as far as Vette had seen, since she hadn't seen any natives during the two weeks they had been there.
Vette nor Artanken had any idea on where or when they were, but one thing was for sure: this was not their time. That was something that Artanken had told her with utter conviction right after their ship had suddenly jumped out of hyperspace and damn near crashed into the surface of a planet they hadn’t planned to come to.
“I cannot sense anything in the Force. In fact, it is unlike anything like it felt before. It’s…muddled. I cannot make sense of any of it. And it’s so methodical, like the Force itself has been corrupted for…a very long time.”
He hadn’t said it outright, but the implication was clear. Luckily, the ship had lost damn near all of its non-vital functions to fly the ship due to a lack of fuel and power, meaning Vette hadn’t had a chance to use their communication devices and be unable to get in contact with any of the very few people she had had as close people like Lana, Theron, Jaesa, Pierce, Taunt, Tivva and be forced to confront the fact that they were long dead and the galaxy had taken even more from her-
A foreign feeling of calm washed over Vette as she realized she had been spiraling very fast.
She didn’t like whenever Artanken read her mind through the bond they had apparently established in the Force, and she knew he was trying his best not to read it but there were times where she apparently ‘got too loud’ and that was when Artanken would suggest her mind to calm, leaving her a bit drowsy.
At least, that was what justified these excursions into her mind as Vette knew the deeper reasons for it, the parts of him that she knew he was ashamed to be afraid of, even after their marriage and their travel through the fabric of time: her betraying Artanken-
CRACK. Quinn’s screams filled the ship as Artanken broke another one of his bones. Vette and Jaesa both took turns on their canteens to get as drunk as possible, to not have to remember what was happening to their former friend and member of the crew.
These weren’t clean brakes either, these were slow and deliberate. Jaesa had described it as “a slow, languid increase in power of the Force on the strongest and most sensitive parts of the bone, prolonging his pain” after having decided to feel the process Quinn was going through in the Force, hoping that it would somehow be better than hearing and imagining the screams. Oh how wrong she had been proven.
Soon after that, Jaesa had run out of the ship and come back with crates upon crates of alcohol of all kinds: Corellian whiskey, Kowakian rum, Blurrgfire and many others. Jaesa had said it was “essential” for her to block out the feelings in the Force. Vette needed to block out the sounds.
She cleared the memory out of her mind as quickly as possible, not wishing to be reminded of the man’s betrayal. Both the act itself and his punishment were some low-points in her life she didn’t want to repeat despite not having been the one to experience it!
Instead, her mind was working on another plan on how to leave the planet. It was a promising one, though very much a gamble. ‘Let us hope Artanken’s brilliant negotiating tactics didn’t work too well.’