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jetii · 3 days ago

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Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Three: Determination

Chapter WC: 13,883

Chapter Warnings: drama!!! some wound stuff, obligatory emotional turmoil tag even though we all knew that was coming

A/N: I am back! I was able to build up my draft chapter backlog again, starting with this one. It's a lot, but we can all rest easy knowing this will be the last one like this for a while.

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???, 21 BBY

The moment the two of you step into the hallway, it becomes clear that this isn't a minor glitch or an unexpected turn of events.

The alarms are still blaring, and the ship's computer is still repeating the same message over and over again, and the emergency lighting has turned the hallways into a sea of red and black, making it difficult to see where you're going. Rex and you hurry towards the bridge, following the trail of panicked troopers and harried officers as they rush around, trying to get the situation under control.

Halfway there, a group of troopers rush past you, and one breaks away, waving the others on as he jogs towards you and Rex. You spot the Republic cog on his faceplate and feel a flood of relief.

"General, Captain," Jesse salutes, sounding a bit breathless. His helmet is slightly askew, and his armor is covered in dust, his boots scuffed and dirty. You watch as he glances down and freezes, and it’s only then that you realize Rex is still holding your hand.

"Jesse," Rex greets, not letting go, and you do your best to keep a straight face as Jesse clears his throat. "What's going on?"

"There’s been an explosion in the engine bay," he answers quickly. Rex's grip on your hand tightens, and Jesse gestures down the corridor, his voice rising over the alarms blaring. "One of the hyperdrives blew out and triggered the failsafe on the others.”

"How did this happen?" you ask sharply. You have no idea what the technicalities are behind hyperdrives and how they work, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand the implications of Jesse's words. A single failure means that the ship is now stranded in the middle of nowhere. A series of failures means something else entirely. "Are we—"

"It's going to take some time to figure out the cause, General," Jesse interrupts, his voice tight. He glances around nervously and drops his voice to a low whisper, his words almost lost beneath the roar of the alarms and the chaos surrounding you. "But I think someone set off an explosive charge on purpose."

“Sabotage?” Rex repeats incredulously. He looks at Jesse in shock and lets go of your hand, stepping closer, his voice rising above the noise. "Are you sure?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Jesse replies grimly. "We're lucky the blast didn't kill anyone."

"We need to get to the bridge," you say quickly, and Jesse nods, motioning for you to follow him.

You and Rex fall into step beside him, the three of you weaving through the chaos, dodging around the crew and the troopers who are rushing in the opposite direction. You reach the doors to the bridge and wait impatiently as they open, the three of you stepping through, and the alarms cut off abruptly. The room is eerily quiet after the loud commotion of the corridor, and it takes a moment for your ears to adjust.

The bridge is a hive of activity, with everyone doing their best to deal with the emergency, but as soon as you enter, all eyes are on the three of you, the expressions ranging from fear and worry to anger and confusion. Anakin and Ahsoka are standing around a holotable with Admiral Yularen and a handful of technicians, their voices raised in anger, and their attention shifts to you as you approach.

“It’s about time you showed up," Anakin snaps, his jaw clenched, and you frown at his tone. His eyes move between you and Rex, his lips curling into a sneer. "We're in the middle of a crisis here. What took you so long?"

The immediate urge to defend yourself rises up inside you, and your hands clench at your sides, a surge of indignation rushing through you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rex tense and shift on his feet.

He glances at you, and the two of you share a look, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, a reminder to stay calm. You take a deep breath and force your expression into a mask of calm.

"What's the situation?" you ask, ignoring Anakin's question, and Rex moves closer, standing beside you. His presence is reassuring, and you can't help but think of what happened just minutes ago. What might've happened if the two of you hadn't been interrupted.

A flush creeps up your neck, and you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. There'll be plenty of time to think about that later.

"We're in trouble,” Anakin growls.

"I'd gathered that," you reply dryly. Ahsoka and Jesse glance at each other, the former rolling her eyes, the latter shaking his head. Rex shoots you a warning look, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes as well, turning back to Anakin. "Do we have a damage report yet?"

"Most of the main systems are offline," Yularen replies, his voice calm and collected, a stark contrast to the anger and frustration emanating from the two of you. "And we've lost contact with the rest of the fleet."

"What does that mean exactly?" you ask. Yularen takes a deep breath and glances at Anakin, who waves his hand impatiently, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He turns back to you and gives you a grim look.

"We're trapped in the middle of nowhere," he answers flatly. "At the current speed, it'll take us over two months to reach Kamino, and that is if we make it through the Rishi Maze.”

"Is the hyperdrive salvageable?" Rex asks, his eyes moving between the admiral and the techs, who are all shaking their heads. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. "So what's the plan?"

"We're going to have to repair the ship and wait for help," Ahsoka says, her hands on her hips, and you can hear the frustration in her voice. You look at her, and she meets your gaze, her expression hardening. "I'm working with the maintenance crews to fix the engines. It shouldn't take more than a few hours."

"We need to figure out why this happened," you add, turning to Jesse, and he nods, his expression solemn. "Did you find the source of the explosion yet?"

"Not yet, sir," he replies.

"I'll help with the investigation," you offer. Jesse and Rex exchange a look, and you can sense their unease. Jesse frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly, and his gaze moves between the two of you. "What?"

"With all due respect, General," Jesse says carefully. He looks at Anakin, and when the other man doesn't speak, he continues. "This may have been an attempt to assassinate a high-ranking officer. If it was, the investigation will need to be handled with discretion. Someone on board this ship might be the culprit."

"And by handling the investigation discreetly, you mean not including the person being targeted in the investigation," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, and Jesse winces. Rex sighs and steps forward, his hand reaching out to grasp your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. You shrug him off and glare at Jesse. "That's not happening."

"If it was an attempt to kill you, General, it's possible that the attacker will try again," he explains, his tone apologetic. He hesitates, and when you don't respond, he squares his shoulders. “It would be safer if you were to stay on the bridge."

"He's right," Ahsoka adds. She meets your gaze, her eyes full of concern, and her voice is gentle. "You'll be safer up here."

"I can handle myself," you snap, and Ahsoka shakes her head.

"We know that," she replies. She motions to the holotable, and her mouth curves into a small smile. "But let us handle this. Okay? We'll figure out what happened. I promise."

"Fine," you mutter, and Rex gives you a sympathetic look, his hand returning to your shoulder. He squeezes it once more and turns to Jesse, his expression shifting from sympathetic to stern.

"Let me know if you need anything," Rex tells him.

"Will do, sir," Jesse nods. He looks at Ahsoka and tilts his head towards the door, and she falls into step beside him, the two of them heading towards the exit, their voices low and urgent. You watch as they leave, and a pang of regret shoots through you.

"This is bad," Anakin mutters. You glance at him, and his eyes meet yours, the irritation and anger gone, replaced by weariness and worry. He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"It's okay," you sigh, and he snorts, giving you a wry smile. You shrug and look away, a grimace twisting your face. "Well, it's not. But I get it."

"Thanks," Anakin mutters. He shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze moving between you and Rex. "Can you two make sure everything is under control? I need to go speak with the Chancellor."

"Of course," Rex answers. Anakin gives him a curt nod and turns away, marching towards the door with Yularen at his heels.

You watch them go, the unease in the pit of your stomach growing. The thought of having to stay on the bridge while everyone else does their best to fix the situation makes you want to scream. The desire to run off and search for the culprit is overwhelming, but you know better than to do that.

And even if you didn't, Rex wouldn't let you.

"You're not happy about this," Rex murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"No, I'm not," you admit. You turn to him, and he raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint smile. You narrow your eyes and poke his chest. "This is not funny."

"I didn't say anything," Rex chuckles. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, and he gives you a sympathetic look. He lifts his hands and rubs them over his face, letting out a tired sigh. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For earlier," he says quietly, and a rush of heat floods your body. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

"Rex..."

"It was inappropriate," he says, cutting you off, and the guilt in his voice makes your heart ache. His head drops and he rubs the back of his neck, a small frown tugging at his lips. "I...I don't know what I was thinking."

"Hey," you say, and his eyes snap up to yours. "It's okay. It's...we're both stressed and worried. We're dealing with a lot right now."

"That's no excuse," he mutters. His brow furrows and his gaze drops, and the shame and guilt that emanate from him are so strong that it takes everything in you not to reach out and pull him into your arms. But you can't do that. Not here. Not now. And not until the two of you have talked about what happened.

"Look, we'll talk about it later," you tell him gently. He glances at you and nods. "Okay?"

"Yeah," he sighs, and you can feel his mood shift, the tension and stress melting away, replaced by a quiet resignation. His shoulders slump, and a resigned smile spreads across his face. "You're right."

"I usually am," you joke. Rex rolls his eyes, and you give him a quick grin before looking around the bridge. "Alright, we should—"

"General," a technician interrupts. He gestures towards the holotable, and you walk over, Rex following close behind. The image of a star chart is projected above the table, and the technician taps on the display, zooming in on the image. “We’re receiving a distress signal from a nearby planet. It's coming from the surface."

"That's odd," Rex mutters, his brow furrowing. He leans closer and studies the image, his head tilting to the side. "There aren't any habitable planets in this system."

"Maybe it's automated," you suggest.

"Possibly," the technician agrees.

He taps a few more buttons, and the image changes, showing the planet from above. The landscape is covered in a dense, gray fog, obscuring most of the details. You can just make out the outline of a single structure, surrounded by a ring of large, craggy rocks. The technician points to a small, blinking dot on the display.

"The signal is coming from a small outpost on the planet. The inhabitants appear to be human colonists, but it's unclear who they are."

"It could be Separatists," Rex murmurs. He looks at you, and you can see the concern in his eyes. "They could've staged this attack and then fled to the planet. They could be waiting for us."

"Maybe," you reply. Your eyes return to the display, and you frown, a familiar feeling tugging at the edge of your senses. There's something about the planet that's nagging at you, and you can't quite put your finger on it. "There's only one way to find out."

"Are you suggesting we send a squad down there?" Rex asks, shaking his head. "We can't risk a confrontation. We don't have the manpower or the resources to handle another fight."

You look back at the image and nod slowly. The more you think about it, the more certain you are that the feeling is the Force telling you that there's something important on the planet. You take a deep breath and meet his gaze.

“No, I’m suggesting that I go down there," you tell him, and Rex's expression turns incredulous, his eyes widening.

"You're kidding," he says, a note of disbelief in his voice. He straightens his back and shakes his head. "No. No way. You're not going down there alone."

"Yes, I am," you argue, and Rex glares at you, his hands moving to his hips. At your side, the technician shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking between the two of you. "There's a chance that whoever's down there might need our help. If they do, I have a duty to assist them."

"Your duty is to stay here," Rex counters. "On the ship. Safe and sound. Away from any potential danger."

"Don't be dramatic," you scoff. "I'll take a ship, go down there, check it out, and then come right back. Simple."

"Simple," he repeats. He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Nothing is ever simple with you. You know that, right?"

"I'm aware," you reply dryly. Rex huffs and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor. His expression is strained, and he's doing his best not to look at you. He knows that if he does, you'll be able to convince him, and he doesn't want that.

You wait, watching as he tries to come up with an argument, but it's obvious that he's struggling. He knows that the odds are against him, and the longer he stays silent, the more difficult it is for him to find a valid reason. Neither of you are willing to concede.

"Please," you finally say, and his eyes flick up to yours, his brow furrowing. You meet his gaze and offer him a small smile. "I have a feeling that I should go down there."

"A feeling," he repeats. He lets out a deep, weary sigh, and his shoulders slump. "Fine. But I'm going with you."

"No," you protest, but Rex shakes his head.

"Either I go with you or you don't go," he says firmly. He folds his arms across his chest, his expression hardening. "Pick."

"You're not serious," you retort, but Rex doesn't budge, and a heavy silence fills the air. The technician shifts awkwardly and clears his throat, looking back and forth between the two of you.

"I can arrange for a shuttle," he offers, and Rex gives him a curt nod.

"Thank you," he says. The technician hurries away, leaving the two of you alone. Rex looks at you, and his expression softens, his lips twitching upwards. "Don't argue."

"I'm not arguing," you retort, and he snorts, shaking his head.

"You always argue," he points out. He glances around the bridge, and his eyes settle on a group of troopers gathered near the far wall. "I'm going to see if anyone's willing to volunteer for the mission."

"We're not telling them about the distress signal," you tell him quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want anyone else to go down there," you explain, and his eyebrows rise.

"You want to keep this a secret?" he asks, his tone disbelieving.

"I'm not trying to keep it a secret," you reply, and his eyebrows rise higher. You let out an exasperated sigh and shake your head. "I'm trying to protect them. If the Separatists are down there, they're going to be heavily armed and dangerous. I'm not sending anyone else down there."

"And if they are, and it's a trap?" Rex counters.

"Then, I'll have you," you retort. You tilt your head to the side and smile. "You'll keep me safe, right?"

"Always," he says quietly, his expression growing serious. The two of you hold each other's gaze, and you can sense the conflict and worry radiating off him. After a moment, his eyes move to the side, and he rubs the back of his neck, his expression shifting into a frown. "We should get ready."

"Agreed."

The two of you turn and head for the exit, falling into step beside each other. As you step into the corridor, the alarms blare once again, and you wince, the sudden loud noise catching you off guard. The red lighting flashes and casts a crimson glow over the hall, and the computerized voice calls out over the alarms.

"Attention. Attention. This is an emergency..."

Rex shakes his head and grumbles under his breath. You give him a sympathetic look and reach out, squeezing his arm.

"Come on," you murmur. He nods and follows after you as you make your way through the ship toward the hangar where the shuttle is waiting. It's not a long trip, and you don't say anything along the way, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. The unease that has been building inside you grows with every passing second, and by the time you reach the hangar, you're certain that this is a bad idea.

"Rex," you start, but he cuts you off, grabbing your arm, pulling you to the side. A group of troopers rush past, their armor reflecting the red glow from the lights, and the two of you stand there, watching them run by. When they're gone, he lets go and sighs.

"Whatever happens down there, we stick together," he tells you. You nod, and his hand reaches out, gripping your shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Got it?"

"Got it," you reply, and he smiles and lets go, taking a step back. He turns and walks away, heading for the shuttle, and you follow after him, doing your best to keep the doubt from showing on your face.

The Twilight is already prepped and ready to go, the ramp lowered, the engines sputtering. The idea of taking Anakin's prized freighter without him knowing isn't exactly appealing, but it's not like the two of you have a choice. And besides, it's not like you'll be gone for long. You'll just take a quick look, check out the situation, and then get the hell out. Simple.

"Sir!" A voice calls out as you and Rex scale the ramp. Jesse jogs over, his helmet tucked under his arm. "What's going on? Why are you leaving?"

Rex looks over at you and tilts his head towards the entrance of the hangar, gesturing for you to go ahead. You nod and step inside, moving towards the cockpit, leaving the two of them alone. As soon as you're out of earshot, you slow down, stopping just outside the door, listening to their conversation.

"We're going on a mission," Rex answers. You hear the clink of his boots against the durasteel decking and a small thump, probably him setting down his helmet.

"What mission?" Jesse asks. You lean against the wall, watching as he frowns and looks at Rex, his expression skeptical. "General Skywalker said we should stay here and fix the ship."

"Something's come up," Rex replies, and Jesse's frown deepens. He glances towards the cockpit, and you move further away, pretending to inspect the wiring. You watch as his eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Does it have anything to do with why you were late to the bridge earlier?" he asks. Rex hesitates, and Jesse's gaze moves back to him, his expression turning suspicious. "Sir, did something happen between you and the General?"

"It's none of your business, Jesse," Rex tells him sharply. You wince, and Rex glances towards the cockpit, his eyes locking onto yours, his cheeks flushing slightly. He gives you a tight smile and looks away, clearing his throat. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. There's...there's a lot going on."

"Is she in trouble?" Jesse presses, and Rex sighs, shaking his head.

"Not yet," he answers. "But there's a chance she might be, so we're going to check it out."

"We?"

"Yeah," Rex replies. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his head, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I'm going with her."

"Of course you are," Jesse snorts, and Rex looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sir, with all due respect, this is not the time for the two of you to be sneaking off together," Jesse says, his voice rising slightly, his tone growing agitated. Rex winces, and his eyes move to you again, and you can feel the guilt radiating off him.

"We're not sneaking off together," he tells Jesse, his tone firm. "And even if we were, that's not any of your business. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jesse replies. He pauses, and you watch as his eyes move back and forth, his mind working furiously. "Well, if you're going, I'm going too."

"That's not—"

"I know, I know," Jesse interrupts, holding up his hands, and he gives Rex a small grin. "The General doesn't want anyone else involved. But if she's in danger, it's my duty to protect her. If you're going, I'm going."

"It's dangerous," Rex warns.

"We're soldiers. That's our job.," Jesse replies. He shrugs and gestures towards the shuttle. "And besides, I can't leave you two alone. You might do something stupid."

"Like what?" Rex scoffs, and Jesse smirks.

"Oh, I don't know," he says, his tone casual, but there's a hint of a teasing edge to his voice. "Do I really need to spell it out?"

Rex scowls and looks away, his cheeks reddening, and Jesse lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, sir," he assures him. "Your secret is safe with me."

"There's no secret," Rex grumbles. Jesse rolls his eyes and claps him on the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Whatever you say, sir."

The two of them start up the ramp into the shuttle, forcing you to dart into the pilot's seat. You pretend to fiddle with the controls, and a few seconds later, they enter the cockpit, both men looking at you expectantly.

"All set?" Rex asks, and you nod.

"I think so," you reply. You glance between the two of them, a frown forming on your face. "Jesse, why are you here?"

"He's coming with us," Rex says, and you can feel your frown deepen.

"I said that no one else was coming with us," you argue. Jesse shrugs and sets his helmet on the console.

"With all due respect, General, I'm coming anyway," he tells you. His tone is polite, but the stubborn set of his jaw and the determined look in his eye make it clear that he won't be easily swayed. "You might need backup."

"We'll be fine," you snap, and Rex sighs.

"Let him come," he says quietly. His eyes lock onto yours, and when you see the pleading look in them, you give him a frustrated huff.

"Fine," you mutter.

"Good," Jesse grins, and you roll your eyes.

"Whatever," you grumble, and you start flipping switches, the engines roaring to life, the controls lighting up. The three of you strap yourselves in, and you grab the controls, guiding the ship out of the hangar and into space. As soon as you're clear, you tap the coordinates for the planet, and the autopilot takes over, guiding the ship towards its destination.

You turn to Jesse, who's busy checking his equipment, and point at the viewport. "This is a reconnaissance mission. We're going to take a look, check out the situation, and then get the hell out. Got it?"

"Got it," Jesse agrees. You glance at Rex, who gives you a small nod, and the three of you settle in, watching the stars streak past the viewport. After a few minutes, the planet comes into view, the gray mass looming in front of you. You frown and peer out at it, watching the fog clouds roil and swirl. Something about the planet gives you a strange, uneasy feeling, and you can't shake the feeling that this is a bad idea.

"General," Rex says softly. You look over at him, and he raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," you reply, and his eyes narrow. He doesn't believe you, but you don't want to worry him. Or Jesse. Or yourself, for that matter. You push the feeling aside and gesture towards the planet. "Let's do this."

The shuttle descends, the planet growing larger as it approaches. You lean forward and watch as the fog begins to part, revealing the surface. As you get closer, the details become clearer, and the gray landscape stretches as far as the eye can see. There's nothing green or brown or blue, just the same endless gray expanse. The only landmark is a small cluster of structures near the edge of the horizon.

You frown and press the controls, the shuttle changing course, angling towards the buildings. You scan the area and let out a soft sigh. There's no sign of life anywhere.

As the shuttle continues its descent, the fog closes in, and the ground becomes obscured. The buildings loom ahead, and you adjust the course, flying over the structures, circling around. The shuttle's scanners sweep the area, searching for any signs of life, but there's nothing. No movement. No heat signatures. No signs of any living creature.

"It's deserted," Rex says quietly. He glances at you, and his expression hardens. "Are we sure this is the right place?"

"Yeah," you reply. You look out the viewport, watching as the structures pass by beneath the shuttle, and the uneasiness inside you grows. The Force is telling you that there's something important on the surface, and the feeling is growing stronger with every second. "We should land and check it out."

"That's not a good idea," Jesse protests. He leans forward and points towards the edge of the fog. "We can see the outpost from here. We can scan it and get a better look without putting ourselves at risk."

"There's something here," you tell him, and Rex gives you a sharp look. You shake your head, ignoring his concern, and focus on Jesse, doing your best to keep the doubt from showing on your face. "We need to find out what it is."

"General—"

"Jesse," Rex interrupts, and the other man sighs. He rubs the back of his neck, a frustrated look on his face, and he glances between the two of you.

"Alright, alright," he finally relents. He unbuckles his harness and stands, grabbing his helmet, pulling it over his head. "I'll do a quick sweep, and then we can head back. Sound good?"

"Perfect," you smile, and Jesse grunts, walking past the two of you, heading towards the ramp. You wait until he's out of earshot before looking over at Rex, and the moment your eyes meet, the concern radiating from him is overwhelming.

"Please, tell me that you're not feeling the same thing I'm feeling," he says quietly, and the desperation in his voice sends a pang through your heart. You hesitate, and he sighs, running a hand over his face. "Great."

"Rex..."

"What's the point of the Force if it can't warn you about these things?" he mutters, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and his hands grip the harness tightly.

"It is warning me," you tell him, and his eyes fly open, meeting yours, his expression full of disbelief. "I can feel it. The Force is trying to tell me something. I just...I don't know what it is. I just know that I need to go down there."

You unbuckle your harness and stand, and Rex follows suit, his movements stiff and robotic. He pulls on his helmet and checks his blasters while you pull the rebreather over your nose and mouth. You give him a reassuring smile and rest your hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze.

"I'm going to be fine," you assure him, and he shakes his head.

"No, you're not," he retorts. He looks at you, and you can sense his fear and frustration and anger. "Nothing ever goes right when we're together. Every time. Every damn time."

"Hey," you say sharply, and he huffs. "That's not true."

"It is," he mutters. His head drops, and his shoulders slump, the tension and anger leaving him. He lets out a tired sigh and turns towards the open hatch. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"It won't," you promise, and he scoffs, his brow furrowing. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Jesse returns, and the two of you turn towards him. He gives the two of you a quick look and holds up a finger.

"Okay, I did a quick sweep, and it looks like the place is empty," he reports. He taps the side of his helmet and shrugs. "Nothing on the thermal either. If anyone's down there, they're well hidden."

"We're still going," you say, and Jesse lets out an exasperated groan.

"I knew you were going to say that," he complains. He looks at Rex, and you can tell that the captain is rolling his eyes behind his visor. "Is she always like this?"

"Yes," Rex replies dryly.

He tilts his head towards the hatch, and Jesse lets out a resigned sigh, leading the way down the ramp and onto the ground. You follow after him, stepping onto the gray surface, your boots sinking into the wet dirt. Rex is right behind you, and the three of you begin making your way towards the outpost.

The fog is thick, and it's difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction. You pull the hood of your robe up, the fabric covering your head and the top half of your face. The ground is uneven and soft, and the air dank and cold.

A few steps into the fog, the visibility drops to almost nothing, and you find yourself relying on the Force to guide you. It's disorienting, and after a while, you're not entirely sure where you're going. Jesse's at the front of the group, and Rex is at your side, his blasters at the ready. Every few steps, the three of you stop and listen, scanning the area for any signs of life.

There's nothing.

The only sound is the muffled crunch of the ground beneath your boots and the soft rustling of the fog. It's unsettling, and you find yourself moving closer to Rex, his presence calming your nerves.

You can see his helmet tilt toward you, and you can sense his unease. He doesn't want you out here. He wants to turn around and go back to the ship. And if it were up to him, that's exactly what he would do.

But it's not.

You're the one in charge.

So, the three of you continue walking, the outpost growing closer and closer, the structure looming ahead of you. The gray stone walls are covered in moss and vines, and the wooden gate is open, hanging from its hinges. The interior of the compound is obscured by the fog, and you pause, your senses on high alert.

There's no sound. No movement. No signs of life.

"Jesse," you murmur, and he glances back at you. "You and Rex search the perimeter. I'll check inside."

"I don't think—"

"Just do it," you order, cutting him off, and he huffs, shaking his head.

"You heard the General," Rex says, and Jesse gives him a curt nod. "Let's go."

The two of them turn away and move along the edge of the wall, disappearing into the fog. You watch as they fade into the grayness, and then you take a deep breath, drawing your lightsaber and activating it. The blade ignites with a hum, the yellow glow illuminating the fog, and you step towards the open gate.

As you pass through the entrance, a chill runs down your spine. There's a feeling in the air, a dark energy surrounding the area. It's familiar, but you can't quite place it. It's a feeling that you've experienced before, but not here. Not in this place.

You pause, listening, searching for any signs of life, and when the silence continues, you step forward, heading towards the center of the compound. There are a handful of structures, most of which are dilapidated and falling apart. A few of them are nothing more than piles of rubble, the walls crumbling, the roof caving in.

You've only taken a few steps when something out of the corner of your eye shifts. A dark shape moving in the distance. Your eyes dart towards the source, and you watch as a shadowy figure emerges from the fog, its movements slow and deliberate.

"Jesse? Rex?" you call out, and the figure stops. You take a cautious step towards it, and it vanishes.

"General!"

You turn towards the sound of Rex's voice, and the figure appears again. It's standing behind you, and when you look back, it's gone.

"Rex!" you shout, and you hear him calling out for you, his voice getting closer. The figure appears again, further away. It's tall and humanoid, its limbs long and spindly. It's facing away from you, and when you try to follow, it vanishes once more.

You hear a faint noise coming from the direction the figure disappeared. A soft tapping sound. It's faint and distant, but it's there. You turn towards the source, and the figure appears again. You make out the shape of a cape, a hood, and your hand tightens on your lightsaber.

"Hey!" you call out, and the figure spins around, the fog swirling, obscuring its features. The tapping sound continues, and the figure takes a step towards you. "Who are you? What do you want?"

You take a cautious step forward, and the figure vanishes, the tapping fading away. You wait for a moment, listening, and then the tapping returns, the sound growing louder. It's coming from somewhere close by, and when you try to follow the noise, the figure reappears. You spin towards it, and as soon as you do, the noise stops.

"This is ridiculous," you growl, and you take a step towards the figure, but before you can reach it, it disappears. The tapping returns, the noise even louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the buildings. It's close.

You move quickly, sprinting after it, your heart pounding. You can hear Rex and Jesse calling out for you, but you ignore them. The fog swirls and twists, and you follow the sound, the tapping growing louder and louder. It's coming from inside one of the buildings. You skid to a stop and look up. The building is smaller than the others, and the doorway is barely big enough for you to squeeze through.

"Come on," you murmur, and you push the door open, slipping inside. The tapping stops, and the room is completely silent. You look around, searching for any sign of the figure, and when you don't see anything, you let out a frustrated huff. "I know you're here. You wanted help. Well, I'm here. So, let's talk."

The silence stretches on, and then the sound returns, the tapping louder and faster than before. It's coming from below. From beneath the floor. You look down and realize that the floor isn't made of stone or wood. It's metal. It's a hatch.

You kneel and press your ear to the surface, the tapping getting louder, the noise echoing off the metal. There's a muffled thumping mixed in with the tapping. It's a steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat.

You grab the handle and yank, the hatch sliding open, revealing a ladder leading down into a dark pit.

"Oh, for Force's sake," you mutter.

"General! Where are you?"

"Rex!" you call out, and the noise stops, the silence deafening. "I'm over here."

You look down the ladder, and a few seconds later, Rex and Jesse emerge from the fog. They jog towards you, their blasters drawn, and when they get close enough, they slow down.

"What are you doing?" Rex asks. He looks down at the hatch and back to you, holstering his blasters and placing his hands on his hips. "You weren't thinking of going down there alone, were you?"

"...Maybe," you admit, and Rex's helmet tilts skyward.

"Of course, you were," he grumbles. He glances at Jesse, and the other man shrugs.

"She's got a death wish, sir," Jesse tells him. Rex lets out a resigned sigh, and Jesse leans closer, giving you a disapproving look. "Don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done anything stupid?" you ask. Rex and Jesse both snort, and you frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't think I like your attitude."

"We don't like your attitude," Rex retorts. He crouches and peers down the hole, and when he looks up, the annoyance in his voice is clear. "Well, we're not doing this without a plan. Or at least without some kind of idea about what's down there."

"It's some kind of tapping," you reply, and he gestures for you to elaborate. You huff and shrug. "There's a rhythm to it. And I keep seeing a figure in the fog. It's humanoid."

"A figure?" Jesse repeats, and he and Rex exchange a look. You raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to the side, waiting for one of them to speak. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head earlier?"

You scowl, your hands curling into fists, and you're about to tell him exactly what you think of his comment when Rex steps between the two of you. He holds up his hands and shakes his head.

"That's not helping," he says firmly. Jesse grumbles under his breath, and Rex glances over his shoulder at you. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm going down there," you tell him. You step towards the ladder and start climbing, and when Rex starts to protest, you hold up a finger, silencing him. "You can either come with me or not. Either way, I'm doing this."

Rex hesitates, and when he looks at Jesse, the other man just shrugs. He lets out an exasperated sigh and nods.

"Fine," he mutters. He points at Jesse. "Stay up here. If we're not back in thirty minutes, call for backup."

"Copy that," Jesse replies, and Rex climbs onto the ladder, following after you.

You descend into the darkness, the sound of the tapping getting louder and louder. When you reach the bottom, you step off the ladder, and Rex lands beside you. His helmet scans the room, and he reaches out, his fingers closing around your wrist. He pulls you behind him, his body shielding yours.

"Be careful," he whispers.

"Always am," you murmur, and his helmet swivels to look at you. You can feel his skepticism and amusement radiating from him, and he shakes his head, turning back to the darkness.

"Sure, you are," he chuckles. "I've seen the scars."

"That was one time," you protest, and he snorts, taking a step forward.

"No, it wasn't," he retorts.

"I thought you liked how reckless I am," you tease, and his helmet tilts, a low, rumbling growl escaping from the speakers. You bite your lip to keep from laughing, and when he turns his head, you give him a sweet smile. "You said it. Not me."

"That's not what I said," he mutters.

"Yes, it is," you laugh, and his hand tightens on your wrist, pulling you close. You stumble forward, bumping into him, and he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you against him.

"Be. Careful," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, and the sudden change in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You look up at him and lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. "Promise me."

"I will," you whisper. The intensity of his stare is overwhelming, and you find yourself frozen, your breath catching in your throat. "I promise."

"Good," he murmurs, his voice softening. He releases his grip on your waist, his hand sliding up your back and resting between your shoulders, gently nudging you forward. "Come on."

The two of you walk side by side through the darkness, the sound of the tapping growing louder with every step. As the two of you move further into the tunnel, the darkness begins to give way, the walls illuminated by dim red lights. You glance at Rex, and he gives you a quick nod, gesturing for you to keep moving.

"It's an escape tunnel," he mutters. He moves closer to the wall and examines the lights, his helmet tilting towards the ground. "Probably goes all the way to the outpost."

"Why would they need an escape tunnel?"

"Maybe they were hiding from something," Rex replies. He stands and glances around the room. "Or someone."

The two of you continue walking, the tapping growing louder, the tunnel narrowing. You reach a junction, and the sound is coming from the left, the path sloping downward. Rex hesitates, and you nudge his arm, pushing him forward. He lets out a resigned sigh and follows after you.

As the two of you walk down the slope, the tapping becomes deafening, the sound bouncing off the walls. It's coming from a closed door up ahead. Rex draws his blaster, and you ignite your lightsaber, the yellow blade illuminating the area. The two of you reach the door and pause, listening. There's no movement, no sounds other than the tapping.

"You ready?" Rex asks, and you nod. He raises his blaster and places his hand on the door handle. "On three."

He counts down, and then the door swings open, revealing a small, dimly lit room. It's empty, and the only furniture is a table and chair. There's a tarp draped over the wall behind it, and the tapping is coming from beneath.

You glance at Rex, and he takes a cautious step inside. When nothing happens, he holsters his blaster and moves towards the tarp.

"What are you doing?" you ask, and he waves a dismissive hand.

"Just stay there," he orders.

You frown, your eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me what to do."

Rex sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tarp and pulling it off the wall, revealing a series of monitors and control panels. There's a microphone on the table, and the source of the tapping is revealed. It's a small, cylindrical device attached to the microphone, and when Rex picks it up, the tapping stops.

He sets the device on the table and looks at the monitors, his helmet tilting to the side. You move towards him, and he points to the screens, showing you the messages and audio files.

"Someone was trying to lure people here," he murmurs. He flips through a few more files and lets out a disgusted huff. "Whoever it was must have figured that a fake distress call would bring us running."

"So, this is a trap?"

"Looks like it," Rex replies. He looks down at the device and tilts his head to the side. "And, judging by the fact that there's no sign of whoever put this here, I'm guessing that they got away. Guess we scared them off."

"Yeah," you mutter, and he turns to face you, his helmet lifting, his visor scanning your face.

"I know that tone," he says softly. You raise an eyebrow, and he folds his arms over his chest. "What is it?"

"I just..." you begin, and you trail off, letting out a frustrated sigh. You shake your head and lean against the table, rubbing your forehead. "This whole thing feels...off."

"Off?"

"It doesn't make sense," you tell him. "Why would anyone set up a fake distress signal and then leave? It's not like they could've known that we would come. Or even if we would. For all they knew, no one would hear their signal. Why waste the time and energy putting this all together?"

"Maybe they panicked," Rex suggests. "Maybe they didn't think things through."

"Maybe," you reply. You push away from the table and pace around the room, frowning. "But something about this feels...familiar. Like I've seen it before."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," you mutter. You stop and look at him, shaking your head. "It's just a feeling. A hunch. And I can't explain it."

"Okay," Rex says slowly, his voice hesitant. He pauses, and then he walks over to the tarp and grabs it, throwing it back over the wall, covering the monitors. "We'll talk to General Skywalker. See what he thinks. Maybe he can make sense of all this."

"Yeah," you agree. You walk past him, and he follows, the two of you heading back towards the ladder. The tapping starts up again, the sound echoing off the walls. Rex's hand reaches out, resting on the small of your back, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your robe. You look over at him, and his helmet tips toward the source, his voice low and soothing.

"Ignore it," he murmurs, and the two of you start walking, the sound fading away. "It's just a recording."

"I know," you whisper. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and as the two of you walk, his hand moves lower, his fingers brushing over your hip. The gesture is subtle, but it's enough to make your pulse race, a shiver running down your spine.

Your eyes flick to him, and Rex pulls away, clearing his throat.

"Sorry," he mutters. His voice is rough and strained, and he glances away, his hand running over the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to, uh...yeah."

You watch as he hurries towards the ladder, and you follow after him, biting back a grin. His flustered state is adorable, and the sight of him embarrassed and fidgety makes your heart melt. For a man who was inches away from kissing you only a few hours ago he's certainly acting shy.

"Don't worry about it," you call out, and Rex lets out a soft snort. He glances over his shoulder, his helmet tilting to the side, and you shrug. "I don't mind."

He looks at you for a long moment, and then he climbs onto the ladder and begins to ascend. You watch him go, a small smile on your face, before you shake your head.

"Get it together," you whisper to yourself. There are more important things to focus on than Rex and his adorable antics. Like finding out who was behind the distress signal.

With a determined huff, your hand grabs for the first rung of the ladder, but something stops you. You pause and listen, your senses heightening. There's something wrong. The tapping has stopped.

And then you see it.

The shadow.

It appears at the edge of your vision, the dark shape moving along the wall. You spin around, and it vanishes, the shadows stretching, enveloping the space. The red lights flicker, and when they do, you can see it.

It's humanoid. Tall. Spindly. Dressed in black. A hood covers its face, and a cape billows out behind it. The same figure that's been following you. The same one that attacked you ten years ago, the same one that you saw on the footage the night Yaddle died.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you growl.

A low, raspy laugh fills the air, and the figure turns and walks away, disappearing into the darkness. You run after it, sprinting down the tunnel, watching as Dooku's retreating form vanishes into the blackness.

You reach the junction, this time taking the path to the right. You follow after him, the tunnel sloping upward until you reach another door. You draw your lightsaber and open it, the bright glow of the yellow blade illuminating the room.

Dooku is standing in the center of the space, his back to you, his hands clasped behind his back. He's wearing a long black cloak and a hood, and the light from your saber casts his shadow across the walls, the edges of his image elongated and distorted.

"You're pretty spry for an old man," you tell him, and his shoulders twitch, a low chuckle escaping his lips. He turns to face you, and when his hood falls, his features are illuminated.

"Still the same reckless girl," Dooku says, and he tilts his head to the side, his voice filled with amusement. "Always so eager to prove yourself."

"I don't have anything to prove to you," you retort, and his eyes narrow. His lips curl into a sneer, and his head lifts, his expression becoming haughty and condescending.

"Don't you?"

"No," you snap. You take a step towards him, and his smirk fades, his eyes narrowing. "But I'm curious. What are you doing here? Don't you have an entire army to run?"

"I could ask you the same question," Dooku replies. He looks at you and chuckles, shaking his head. "But I think we both know the answer. You came here because you felt something. A connection to me. To the Force."

"That's not true," you protest, but he ignores you.

"You wanted answers," he continues, his voice soft, his tone almost gentle. "Answers that no one else can provide. Answers that you desperately need."

"I don't want anything from you," you growl, pulling your shoto from your belt and igniting it. The twin blades flare to life, their glow reflecting off his skin. "Just stay still, and maybe this will hurt less."

Dooku takes a step towards you, and your stance shifts, your body moving into a defensive position. He chuckles and holds up his hands, stopping a few feet from you.

"Really, dear girl, you should learn some respect for your betters," he tells you, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm done playing games," you snap, and before he can react, you attack.

You lunge towards him, swinging your lightsabers, and his blade ignites, blocking the blows. You press the attack, pushing him back, and he counters, the two of you trading strikes and parries. He's skilled, his movements graceful and elegant, and the longer the fight continues, the more he seems to be enjoying himself. It's as if your actions are fueling his pleasure.

"You've gotten better," Dooku tells you. "I'll give you that."

"Yeah, well, last time, you didn't fight fair," you retort, and he smirks.

"Neither did you," he counters. His lightsaber flicks, the blade moving in a blur, and you barely block the strike, the tip of his weapon grazing your shoulder. The fabric of your robe tears, and you hiss, the burning sensation making your blood boil.

"Bastard," you snarl, and the two of you lock blades, the light from the glowing swords reflecting off the walls, casting shadows across the room.

"Temper, temper," he tuts. He presses his weight into the hilt of his lightsaber, and the heat from the blades grows hotter, the tips of the hilts burning against your palms. "It's unbecoming."

"I'm not interested in a lesson in decorum from a murderer."

You shove him back and swing, forcing him to jump away, and you chase after him, unleashing a series of strikes and thrusts. The two of you dance around the room, the light from the sabers reflecting off the walls, and the battle quickly devolves into a duel, both of you matching the other's attacks, neither of you gaining an advantage.

As the minutes pass, your frustration grows, and the anger and hatred inside you builds. You lash out, and Dooku dodges, the tip of your blade cutting through his cloak, the fabric fluttering to the ground. It's a small victory, but it's enough to spur you on.

"That was expensive, you know," he drawls.

"Good," you snarl.

The two of you continue your dance, and as the fight progresses, his attacks become more vicious. He pushes you harder, his strikes growing quicker and more precise, and your defenses crumble, leaving you open.

The tip of his blade slices through the sleeve of your robe, and the skin beneath burns, forcing you into dropping your shoto. You grit your teeth and parry, deflecting the next strike, and when the opportunity presents itself, you kick him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunts.

"Stop talking and fight," you snap. You launch yourself at him, slamming into him and sending the two of you tumbling to the floor. You land on top of him, and you grab his collar, dragging him to his feet, slamming him into the wall. "Tell me why you're here."

"I have my reasons," he replies. His voice is calm and composed, his expression blank, unfeeling. You grip his collar tighter, and he lets out a soft chuckle. "You want to kill me, don't you? Go ahead. Try."

Your hand tightens, and you pull him away from the wall and throw him back, sending him flying into the opposite wall. He crumples to the ground, and you march towards him, your lightsaber raised.

"Stop. Talking," you growl. You level the blade at his throat, and when your eyes meet, his expression changes. A cold, cruel smile spreads across his face, and his gaze becomes sharp, calculating.

"I knew it," he murmurs, and your grip on the hilt of your lightsaber wavers, a wave of unease washing over you.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've changed," he tells you. His eyes narrow, and he leans closer, his breath tickling your cheek. "You are not the same Padawan I knew."

"I've learned a few things since then," you mutter.

"Oh, yes," Dooku chuckles. He tilts his head to the side, and his eyes move over your face, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I can see that."

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a shiver runs down your spine. He's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time. His gaze is piercing, his expression calculating, and you can't help but wonder what he's looking for. Whatever it is, he seems pleased.

"Why did you kill her?" you demand. Better to keep him talking. The longer he's distracted, the more likely it is that the others will arrive and help you deal with him. "What did she ever do to you?"

"It's not about what she did," Dooku replies. His voice is soft, and his eyes flick to your lightsaber. "It's about what she could have done. The potential that she represented."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's no need to be coy," he tells you. His eyes return to your face, and his gaze is almost hungry, his lips curling into a smirk. "I know you've figured it out."

"She was in your way," you say. His expression changes, his smirk fading, and his gaze hardens. "She knew too much. She knew you were planning on betraying the Republic."

"Close," he murmurs. His head tips to the side, and his gaze sweeps over you, a look of admiration in his eyes. "But not quite. You've come so far, but there's still so much you don't understand."

"Then enlighten me," you snap, and his brow furrows, a confused frown forming on his face. "Tell me why. Why did you kill her?"

Dooku’s eyes narrow, and his gaze becomes distant, as if he's seeing something far beyond the room. He doesn't seem to be aware of the fact that he's about to die. As if he's reliving some memory, some experience that is only known to him. For a split-second, he looks almost vulnerable. And, in that instant, you feel something.

He's afraid.

And whatever he's afraid of, it has nothing to do with you.

"It's not just about her," Dooku says, his voice a low murmur. You frown and lean closer, your lightsaber still pointed at his throat, and when his eyes refocus, they lock onto yours. "Do you know why I left the Order, young one?"

"Because you're a power-hungry monster?" you suggest, and he shakes his head.

"I left because they refused to see the truth," he replies. The intensity in his gaze is unnerving, and you swallow, doing your best to keep the tremble from your hand. “I left because the Jedi are flawed."

You stare at him, unsure how to respond. Your anger and hatred are still there, but there's something else, too. He’s not saying anything you don’t already know. The Jedi are flawed. They are imperfect. And yet, somehow, you know that what he's saying isn't coming from a place of malice or spite. He's speaking the truth. Or, at least, what he believes to be the truth. And, for some reason, that scares you.

"You're lying," you tell him, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"The Council is weak. The Order is blind. They've lost sight of what it means to be a Jedi," he continues. He shifts, the tip of your blade brushing against his skin, but he doesn't react. "They've become nothing more than a band of soldiers, fighting for a Republic that's dying."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the Order is corrupt. That the Republic is broken.” Dooku leans forward, and you can't help but notice how close his throat is to your lightsaber. All it would take is a twitch, and his head would roll. You could end it. Right now. The thought is tempting, but something holds you back. You want answers. "The war is pointless. And, no matter what happens, we will lose. We are fighting a losing battle. The Republic is finished.

"Your master knew this. Yaddle was one of the few who believed in the true purpose of the Jedi Order. One of the few who understood the truth."

"That's not—"

"She was a good person," he interrupts. The warmth in his expression takes you by surprise, and a pang of guilt hits you, making your chest ache. He looks at you, his brow furrowing. "Don't blame yourself. What happened was necessary."

"Necessary?"

"She was wise and strong, and she saw things that others could not," he explains. His tone is soft and reverent, his gaze distant, almost wistful. "And she cared for you very much."

Your heart skips a beat, and a lump forms in your throat, a rush of emotions flooding your system. You bite the inside of your cheek and clench your jaw, trying to ignore the pain and the fear and the sadness, but it's too much. The pressure in your chest is overwhelming, and you can feel the tears stinging your eyes.

"What does that have to do with anything?" you ask, your voice breaking. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and your vision blurs, tears filling your eyes.

"She would want you to survive," Dooku says, his voice gentle, his gaze locked onto yours. "No matter what."

The pressure in your chest grows, and a tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. You try to wipe it away, but it's too late. He sees it. And, somehow, his expression softens even further, a look of understanding in his eyes.

"You and I have more in common than you think," he murmurs. You blink, your eyes widening, and he gives you a knowing smile. "We both understand the truth. We both know what it means to sacrifice. We've both witnessed the corruption and hypocrisy of those we once trusted. And we've both experienced the pain of betrayal."

"The Council didn't betray me," you say, and his brow furrows, his head tipping to the side.

"Did they not?"

"No," you reply, the conviction in your voice wavering. "They didn't."

"I think we both know that's not true," he counters. "They abandoned you. They let you suffer and struggle alone, and when you needed their help, they turned their backs on you. Just as they did with Yaddle."

"The Council had their reasons," you insist. "They did what they thought was best."

"For themselves," Dooku retorts. His eyes narrow, and a look of disdain crosses his face, his jaw clenching. "Not for you."

"You're wrong," you tell him, but even as the words leave your lips, a part of you knows that he's right. The Council didn't believe you. They didn't believe in you. They let you flounder, and they never did a thing to help. Even Obi-Wan had abandoned you, and while he'd tried to apologize, it hadn't changed anything.

"You know it's true," he says, his voice barely a whisper. He stares at you, and you stare back, your mind racing. "You feel it. Deep down, you know I'm right."

"I'm a Jedi. I can't turn my back on them," you say. "Not when there are innocent people suffering."

"And yet, you're here, chasing after a ghost, searching for a reason to hate the ones who hurt you," Dooku replies. You open your mouth to protest, but he raises a hand, silencing you. "I am not judging you. I understand. You have been betrayed, and you are in pain. I can sense it. It radiates from you, filling the air."

"You have no idea what I'm going through," you mutter.

"I can assure you, dear girl, I do," he tells you, and his eyes move over your face, studying you, his gaze curious and contemplative. "You remind me of myself. We are alike, you and I. We both seek justice and answers. We both question the world around us, and we both understand the sacrifices that must be made in order to achieve peace."

"I'm not like you," you say. You shake your head, and a bitter laugh escapes your lips, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm nothing like you."

"Aren't you?"

"I'm not a murderer."

"You've killed before," Dooku counters. He stares at you, his expression unreadable. "And, if given the chance, you would do it again."

Your grip on your lightsaber falters, and the blade lowers, the tip scraping against the stone floor. Your eyes meet his, and the weight of his words settles over you, a feeling of unease and dread filling the pit of your stomach.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you tell him, but the lie is obvious. You can hear it in your voice, feel it in the way your heart races, and Dooku smiles, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his expression.

"You may not have the blood on your hands, but it's there," he murmurs. He stands and steps towards you, his hand resting on your shoulder, his touch gentle, almost comforting. "There are no more lies between us. We know the truth. We see what the Order has become, what the Republic has become. We see their flaws and their faults, and we know what must be done. The question is, are you willing to do what needs to be done?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head, but he squeezes your shoulder, his grip tightening.

"You can't hide from the truth," he says. His voice is soft, his tone soothing. "You can't ignore it. The Force brought you here, to me, because we are kindred spirits. We are alike. We understand each other."

"Stop saying that," you snap, and his fingers dig into your shoulder, his eyes boring into yours.

"You have been betrayed," he says, his voice cold and clinical, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "You are alone. And you are angry. The Order has taken everything from you, and now, they are taking your life. They have failed you, and they will continue to fail you. They will not stop until you are dead."

"I'm not going to let you manipulate me," you tell him. You push his hand away and step back, your lightsaber raised, and he lets out a resigned sigh, his gaze never leaving yours. "You murdered Yaddle, and you tried to kill me. That's all there is to it. I'm going to kill you."

Dooku doesn't react. He just stares at you, his gaze intense and steady. A part of you expects him to try and reason with you, but he doesn't. He doesn't argue or try to change your mind. He just looks at you, his eyes moving over your face, studying you.

"Maybe," he allows. He straightens his back and squares his shoulders. "But not today."

With a flourish of his cape, he steps towards you, his lightsaber igniting with a hiss. The crimson blade hums as it slices through the air, and you react, your own blade coming up to block his attack.

The two of you dance around each other, trading strikes and parries. The battle is brutal and fierce, both of you giving it your all.

It's only after a few minutes that you realize that Dooku isn't even trying. He's playing with you, using his skill and experience to taunt and provoke you. And, while his attacks are strong, they are easily blocked or deflected.

He's not taking this seriously.

He's toying with you.

He wants to see what you're capable of.

As if he's testing you.

"You're holding back," you accuse. He slashes at your chest, and you step to the side, avoiding the blow. You lunge, your blade arcing towards his head, and he blocks, the humming blades locking together, the light from their tips illuminating his face. "I can feel it."

"Of course, I am," Dooku replies. He spins, and the two of you lock blades, his eyes locking onto yours. "I have no wish to hurt you."

"You're a fucking liar," you snarl, and he pushes you away, sending you stumbling backwards.

"On the contrary, I am the most honest man you will ever meet," he says, and the arrogance in his tone makes you bristle.

You swing at him, and he steps back, dodging the blow. His footwork is perfect, his movements fluid and graceful, and the longer the fight goes on, the more confident and relaxed he becomes.

It's like he's in a different world.

He's not fighting you.

He's playing a game.

"I should've known that this would end in tears," he sighs. He lunges, his lightsaber sweeping towards your head, and you duck, the tip of his blade slicing through the air above you. "You aren't ready."

"Shut up," you snap. You step forward and swing, but he's faster than you, his body twisting out of the way, his cape billowing behind him. The fabric brushes against your cheek, and he kicks, his boot connecting with your hip.

The force of the blow sends you stumbling, and you nearly fall, your balance shifting. You grit your teeth and brace yourself, your lightsaber moving into a defensive position.

"You're still angry," he tells you, and he shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. "I can sense it."

"Of course, I'm angry," you retort. You slash at him, and he blocks, his blade coming up to deflect your strike. "You tried to kill me. You murdered Yaddle."

"That's not what I meant," he replies, and before you can react, he lunges, his blade coming down. You scramble, barely managing to hold onto your saber and bring it up in time to block his next strike.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not angry at me," he says, and you freeze, his words sinking in. Your eyes widen as he tilts his head to the side, his gaze moving over your face. "You're angry at yourself."

"Shut up," you growl, but the anger in your voice is fading, a sense of dread filling the pit of your stomach.

"You're still angry that she died," he continues, and you can't bring yourself to speak, a lump forming in your throat. "You're angry that she left you. You're angry that she never came back."

"Stop," you whisper, but he ignores you, his gaze boring into yours.

"You're angry that the Order betrayed you. That they left you alone," he says, his tone sympathetic, almost apologetic. "You're angry that the Jedi refused to believe you. That they turned their backs on you. And now, they expect you to fight for them."

"They didn't abandon me," you insist, but even as the words leave your lips, the image of Obi-Wan's retreating form flashes in your mind, his last words echoing in your ears.

"Didn't they?"

"They just...didn't listen," you say. You blink, a tear escaping, rolling down your cheek. "They didn't...understand."

"Because you wouldn't tell them the truth," he replies.

His voice is soft, gentle. It's soothing, and for a split-second, it feels like he cares. It feels like he understands. And a part of you wants to believe him. A part of you wants to trust him. But another part of you knows that he's manipulating you, trying to trick you.

And it's working.

Dooku takes another step forward, his shadow stretching across the floor, the light from your blades flickering in the dark.

"You were afraid. Of the power you wielded. Of the truth. Of yourself."

He's closer now, and you can't bring yourself to move. To resist. To do anything but stand there, staring at him.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "For what I did to her. For what I did to you."

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You can't breathe. Your chest is tight, and your lungs are burning, and you can't bring yourself to move.

"You can't run from this," he says. His eyes meet yours, and he shakes his head, a sad smile forming on his lips. "No matter how hard you try. No matter where you go. But if you let me, I can help you."

"Help me?"

"You're not a Jedi. Not anymore," he tells you. He moves closer, and you take a step back, your body acting on instinct, trying to get away from him. But he follows, his steps measured and slow. "Not after what happened."

"You did this," you whisper, and he lets out a soft chuckle, his expression changing, a look of admiration and pride on his face. His eyes flicker to the scars stretching across your hands, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"No," he says. "I didn't. You did."

He's only a few feet away now, and the shadows stretch, wrapping around him, engulfing him. The air grows cold, and the light from the blades begins to fade, and the darkness grows, consuming everything.

"We can't control our power. Our emotions. They control us," he tells you. "You know that better than anyone."

You close your eyes, and for a split-second, it feels like the darkness is wrapping around you, cocooning you. It's warm and safe and familiar. You want to stay here, to let go and just drift away, but a small part of you is screaming. A small part of you knows that something isn't right.

Something pulls at your senses, tugging at the edges of your awareness. It's like a whisper, a soft murmur in the back of your mind. A feeling. An emotion. Fear. Worry.

And it's growing.

"They took everything from you," Dooku says, and your eyes snap open, your vision focusing on his face. He looks different now, older, his skin withered and wrinkled, his hair thin and gray. The warmth in his eyes is fading, replaced by a look of disdain and disgust. "But you can take it back."

He's holding out his hand, his fingers splayed, his palm facing you. It's an invitation. A temptation. And you know what it means. If you accept his offer, everything will change.

You look at his hand, and your gaze flickers to his face, to his eyes. They're darker now, colder. They're not the same. And you know that whatever he's offering isn't real. You're not sure if it ever was.

You stare at his hand, and your mind races, a million thoughts flashing through your mind. But, as the seconds pass, one thought becomes clear, one word echoing in your mind.

"No."

"Very well," he sighs. He steps towards you, his voice calm and level. "If that is your decision, then I have no choice but to—"

You reach out, calling your shoto, and it flies into your open palm, igniting with a loud snap-hiss. Dooku's eyes widen, and his lightsaber springs to life, the red blade humming, the light from the weapon casting shadows across his face.

"Don't," he warns, but it's too late.

You launch yourself at him, and his lightsaber comes up, blocking your blow. The two of you trade strikes and parries, the sounds of the clashing blades echoing off the walls. You spring up, swinging your blade, and he blocks the attack, the red and yellow blades hissing and crackling as they grind against each other.

"You're making a mistake," he tells you.

"I'm done listening to you," you retort.

You push him back, and he stumbles, catching himself, his gaze narrowing. The two of you square off, and the anger inside you burns hotter, brighter. Your fear and frustration fuel your rage, and you attack, unleashing a series of wild, erratic strikes, each blow more vicious and brutal than the last.

Dooku counters, his expression becoming serious, his movements growing quicker, more precise. He's no longer playing games, and as the fight continues, you can't help but notice the look of concern in his eyes. He's worried. He's afraid.

He's afraid of you.

He should be.

Because in that instant, all of your fear and pain and rage converge, coalescing into a single, blinding thought.

He needs to die.

You rush towards him, and he meets you, the two of you locked in a deadly dance, your lightsabers flashing and hissing. You press the attack, driving him back, and he blocks your strikes, his blade moving with a grace and precision that leaves you breathless.

Your vision blurs, and the sounds around you grow distant, muffled. It's like the whole world is fading, dissolving, and all that's left is him. His eyes. His blade. And the opportunity that's presenting itself.

A chance to end this.

To kill him.

The two of you are locked together, neither of you able to break free. You push harder, your muscles straining, your bones creaking. Your body is on fire, burning from the inside out, and you can feel the sweat rolling down your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

The pressure is unbearable. You can feel his blade digging into your own, cutting into the hilt, and you know that if you don't act soon, you'll lose. You grit your teeth, and his lips twitch into a smirk.

"You can't beat me, girl," he sneers, his voice low, taunting.

You open your mouth to retort when the sound of blasterfire erupts in the hallway outside. You glance towards the door, and when you do, Dooku shoves you, sending you stumbling backwards. He lunges towards you, and your instincts kick in, your blade coming up to block his strike.

The hot sting of pain erupts in your hand as his blade slices through the hilt of your shoto, severing the weapon in two. You watch in horror as the halves fall to the ground, the plasma blade sputtering out. Dooku kicks them away, and you back up, your remaining lightsaber raised, the bright glow casting shadows across the walls.

"I offered you a way out," he tells you. “I will not suffer even a Jedi like yourself to live in ignorance."

He steps towards you, and as he does, a series of blaster bolts slam into the door. The hulking form of a B2 teeters and falls backwards, taking the door with it.

The room fills with smoke and dust, and you cough, waving your hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. You can barely make out the shadowy shapes of Rex and Jesse as they enter, their blasters raised.

The two men take aim, and Dooku reacts, the crimson blade of his lightsaber blocking the incoming barrage. He turns, his cape billowing out behind him, and the red beam of his weapon flashes, deflecting the shots, the bolts ricocheting off the walls.

Jesse ducks and rolls, and as he does, Rex runs towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist. He pulls you away, dragging you behind him, his body shielding yours. As the two of you move, Jesse unloads, the volley of shots forcing Dooku back, the barrage keeping him on the defensive.

Rex grabs your wrist and tugs, pulling you towards the exit. As the two of you rush out into the hallway, a series of explosions ripple through the room, the stone walls trembling. You look over your shoulder, and Dooku emerges from the cloud of dust and smoke, his blade flashing. Jesse fires again, but the Count deflects the shots, the bolts slamming into the walls.

"Move," Rex barks, and the three of you take off running, racing down the corridor. Dooku gives chase, and the crimson beam of his lightsaber streaks through the air, the heat from the weapon scorching the stone.

You run as fast as you can, your chest heaving, the rage inside you burning hotter with every step. He killed Yaddle. He murdered her. And he was the one who attacked you. He was the one who tried to kill you. Now, he's trying to kill you again.

"I'm going to kill him," you growl, and Rex's grip tightens, his voice low and harsh.

"Don't," he snaps. "Focus on getting out of here."

"He has to die," you snarl. You pull against him, but his hold on you is iron-clad. "Let me go. I'm going to kill him."

"No," Rex growls, and you glare at him, a fire raging inside you.

"I have to do this," you tell him, your voice cracking, your hands balling into fists. "I'm going to make him pay."

"You can't," he snaps. He tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your skin, and he pushes you ahead of him, guiding you forward. "Not like this."

The three of you round a corner, and a series of blaster bolts slam into the wall to the side, sending fragments of stone and debris flying. Jesse spins and returns fire, and as the two men exchange shots, Rex takes advantage of the distraction, grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him, the two of you stumbling into the next room.

"I can," you insist, and Rex grabs your shoulders, shaking you.

"No, you can't," he snaps. "Look at me. You can't do this."

His tone makes you stop, and you look up at him, a flicker of doubt creeping in. His helmet tilts towards you, his visor scanning your face, and his hands move up, cradling your cheeks.

"I need you to listen to me," he says, his voice urgent and pleading. "I know how much Yaddle meant to you. I know what she was to you. But if you go after him, you'll die. You can't beat him. Not alone. Not like this. Please."

"Rex—"

"Listen to me," he interrupts. He moves closer, and you can hear his ragged breathing through his helmet. "I'm begging you. I need you to be here with me. I need you to come home."

His words strike a chord, and the anger inside you begins to ebb, slowly giving way to something else. Something deeper. You stare at him, and his head tips forward, his visor resting against your forehead.

"Come home," he repeats, his voice barely audible, and your chest aches, a lump forming in your throat.

"I..."

You can't finish the thought. You can feel the fear in his voice, the pain, the desperation. He's scared. Terrified. And it's because of you. Because he cares about you. He needs you.

You swallow hard and nod, and Rex presses his forehead against yours, his body relaxing with a shaky sigh.

"Thank you," he breathes. He strokes his thumb along the line of your jaw, and when he pulls away, his gaze holds yours, his voice laced with regret. "We'll get him, I promise. But not like this."

"Okay," you whisper, and Rex nods, his helmet tilting towards the ground. You place a hand on his chest, waiting for him to meet your gaze again before you speak. "I trust you."

He looks at you for a long moment, searching your eyes. Then, he nods, his shoulders straightening.

"I'll make sure we get him," he tells you. "I promise."

You give him a weak smile, and he pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you, his body enveloping yours. He squeezes you, his grip almost crushing, before he pulls away, his helmet nodding to the doorway.

"Let's get out of here," he says, and you follow him, the two of you sprinting out of the room, leaving Dooku and his men behind. Jesse catches up to you, his blaster still raised, and the three of you continue running, heading back towards the main corridor.

As you race down the hall, Rex's words linger in your mind. He was right. Dooku was too powerful. If you went after him now, there was no way you would survive. And even if you did, what would you be fighting for?

Vengeance.

It wasn't enough. It never would be. Not for Yaddle.

But she wasn't all you had left. There was another reason.

You didn't want to die.

You didn't want Rex to lose you.

You didn't want to hurt him.

So, you ran. You ran as fast as you could. And as you did, a single word echoed in your mind, repeating itself over and over again.

Home.

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