#togruta! fem oc

[lady-phasma]

Impenetrable

Chapter 1 of 5 (cross posted from AO3)

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Dar'Nîla (Togruta OFC)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, general smut, p in v sex in later chapters, D/s if you squint, plot if you squint. Written in first person fem!reader.

Summary a/n: Mando and Dar'Nîla meet and she's quite brazen. Reference images for Dar'Nîla after the cut. I wrote this during season 2, around episode 5. No beta. 2k words.

This is my reference for Dar'Nîla from the video game The Old Republic.

I saw him walk into the cantina. I watched him over the top of my mug as he went to the bar. You couldn’t not watch him. The beskar he was wearing was so new it reflected everything near him.

What could a Mandalorian possibly get at a bar? I thought. Do they use straws? No, that’s too banal.

I couldn’t stop staring. I knew he could feel all of us watching. But how many of those eyes were trying to determine how difficult it would be to seduce him while assuring him you wanted his armor to stay on? Probably only mine.

I sat my drink down, placed my front lekku meticulously to frame my breasts, and shimmied my shirt down just a little. The thin, white fabric pulled tight across the rise of my breasts and my purple skin shone through bright and unmistakable. The leather vest rode just below like a corset. I wasn’t great at being feminine but I could give a good show. My shitty, practical boots and plain leather pants were about as unfeminine as it could get. The one asset the pants had was how they stretched tight against and accentuated my ass. I checked the room and saw I had no competition so I stood, smoothed my pants over my hips, and walked to his table.

“Hi,” was somehow the best I could manage. I was never this forward.

His head turned, deliberately slow. I was immediately aware of the advantage he had over me: he could see facial expressions that I only had to guess at. This was going to be tough.

“Yes?” he responded.

I slid into the chair across from him and propped my elbows on the table, my breasts on my arms. I was going to make this easy for him because that would make it easier for me. One lek fell in front of my carefully arranged display and I brushed it aside.

“Um, yeah, hi! I’m Dar’Nîla,” I managed.

“Hi.”

“You don’t say much do you?” I beamed at him. “I’ve heard about you. They call you Mando.” I flashed my blue eyes at him.

“Some do.”

“ Can I call you that?” I played with a crumb on the table that I found, suddenly, much more fascinating than the blank surface of his helmet.

“Sure. What’s on your mind… Dar….?” He trailed off.

“‘Nîla,” I finished for him.

“Dar’Nîla, right. What’s on your mind?” he asked again.

I stammered. I’m never great at flirting and usually better at it when I don’t have a clue that I’m actually doing it. He was just so unsettling, so disarming. He was no one. Only what I projected onto him until he spoke or moved. Those were the only glimpses allowed into his personality. How could I possibly find something to flirt about? It was like talking to my reflection.

I investigated the table, ran a finger around an old ring from a glass. This place was filthy. But my mouth had gone incredibly dry. I flagged a hand at a waitress and ordered another beer. I looked him in the eye.

“What’s on my mind is that I would very much like to have a beer with you, ahem, near you is more accurate I guess, get to know you a little better, and then try to get you in my pants since there’s very little chance I could get in yours.” I blurted all of this out at once so that he couldn’t interrupt me and so I wouldn’t lose my courage.

That was the best possible moment for my beer to arrive. I buried my face in it and looked up at him. His head was tilted just slightly. Curious? Maybe. Offended? He hadn’t run for the door. Yet.

“Well, Dar’Nîla, that was quite the speech. Did you have anything specific in mind?” he asked.

I could feel his eyes on me and hear the smirk on his lips. I don’t know if he’d had one or one hundred women but he definitely knew how to manipulate me. I gulped some more beer, mostly to give myself time to think of an appropriate answer.

“Ummmm we could sit here and talk, since you’re so chatty and all, or we could get me some dinner and make our way back to your place. Get to know you better along the way?” I looked into my beer as I said the last bit. I couldn’t look at him. I was able to say all that about pants a moment ago and now I only wanted to crawl under the table. He made me feel like he was pure and I was… was what? Unclean for having these thoughts. But I knew that wasn’t true from the way he moved. The way he stayed.

His movements were slow and deliberate. He stood and reached for my hand at the same time. His gloved fingers lifted mine and I followed. I dropped some credits on the table for the beer before we walked out.

The suns were setting. The street vendors’ food crackled over fires and the smells drifted and mingled around us. I was working hard at playing it cool. I was quite sure I was not succeeding. I made a lot of assumptions about him. I assumed he wouldn’t be eating. He probably ate alone. So I stopped at a food stall and swapped some credits for a meat on a stick. Not sure what it was exactly but the sizzling fat smelled delicious. We carnivores aren’t terribly picky eaters when we’re very hungry. I tore off a mouthful.

“So, do this often, do you?” I asked as I chewed and swallowed. I was so nervous around him that I forgot all of my manners. He completely disarmed me.

“No.”

Fuck, would I ever get more than one word out of this man? I licked sauce off of my finger and looked at my boots as we walked. When I looked up he was staring at me.

“Me either,” I said. “In fact, I don’t really talk to people I don’t know. I just… I don’t know, I thought I would risk it.”

I looked back at my feet and blushed. Hard. I could feel the heat rise from my neck, first deep violet then light pink as it hit my white cheeks. All the way up my montrals and down my lekku. Sheesh. This was embarrassing.

I felt him pause. I stopped a step ahead and turned back. He seemed to be searching for something, listening maybe. God it was so hard to tell with that helmet. He turned and looked past me.

“Here,” he said and he slid a hand around mine and started walking. I’m glad he had his back to me because my mouth hung open. I shook myself out of the shock and followed.

He gave a few credits to a man selling frozen, shaved juices. I stood, mutely, watching his movements. His head tilted just enough for me to imagine he was smiling. Maybe his helmet was more expressive than I thought. He handed me the shaved ice. The evening was hot even after the suns set. I wouldn’t have thought to get this treat for myself but since he was buying. Why not? Bounty hunters aren’t hard up for credits.

I stared at the cone of ice as if I had forgotten how to eat. I looked up at him questioningly.

“I would like to watch you eat it,” he said. It was flat with no inflection. I couldn’t object or give it back to him. I couldn’t tell him he was weird and to keep his stupid shaved juice. In fact, I wanted the opposite. My body tingled like I had touched a live wire. I wanted to perform for him. I looked directly at him and licked the sweet ice. The movements of his helmet were almost invisible but once I knew what to look for I began to see them more clearly. This one seemed to be focus, intensity, just the slightest forward tilt. I tasted it again. My face was on fire. I wanted to die from embarrassment. I could guess a million reasons he wanted this but none of them mattered.

There was nothing in the world at that moment but the two of us. The noise of the street around us faded away. I could see my distorted reflection in his helmet and that inspired me to take a longer lick from my ice. I closed my eyes, wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. He took a step closer to me. This could not actually be happening to me. This was all a fantasy I created and I was still sitting in the cantina.

No. He walked closer and put a hand on the small of my back. He guided me toward an alley. He was touching me. I felt like I was shaking all over. We stopped a few feet into the alley. He took the cone from my hand and dropped it by my feet. I was frozen. What was happening? The Mandalorian actually wanted me? He wanted something. I wasn’t sure what but here we were.

He stepped toward me and I moved back so that I was pressed against the dusty wall. He put his hand on it beside my head. His body turned away from the street so that his cape hid me almost entirely. I exhaled. I had been holding my breath but in this small world he created for us I started to relax. To feel less embarrassed.

“Well?” he said. He was so cryptic. This air of mystery was almost overdone. Almost an act, yet… yet not.

“Well…” I replied. “I’m beginning to think this is all on your terms, so what would you like?”

He thought about this for a moment. His free hand started up and then fell back to his side. His helmet moved slightly. Then his hand was on my waist. Gentle but squeezing just a bit. I tried hard not to react but his grip was strong. I grazed my fingers over the vambrace on his forearm. His fingers tensed when I touched the metal. I traced a line up his arm and then down to his chest. Trying to read his mind was excruciating.

Slowly, letting him see the direction of each movement as it began, I placed one hand on his side and the other on the vambrace near my head. I felt the rough fabric of his shirt under my palm, the muscles underneath moving with his breath. I slid my hand around to the small of his back and pulled him closer. I pushed my hips out to meet his. I moaned through my teeth when I finally felt his body on mine.

The cuisses covering his thighs were hard against my legs. But that wasn’t all that was hard. I moved my hips just enough to feel that, yes, The Mandalorian was enjoying himself. I had read his mind well enough it seemed. I moved my hand down to his ass and pressed against him as much as either of us could stand.

He muttered something and abruptly grabbed my waist with both hands. He almost picked me up as he moved me away from him. He placed me at arms length with the concentration a child has with the placement of a doll. I think he really wanted to tell me to “stay put” or something like that. So, I crossed my arms across my chest, jutted one hip out, and pouted.

When he saw the look on my face he shook his head.

“My ship isn’t far from here,” he said.

[neyswxrld]

hello there! my name is ney and i write some small fics in my freetime! i don't have a special schedule and only write when i'm up to it or have time. i also won't be writing smut.

if you want to be tagged in my posts, please let me know, for example via dm, comment or ask!

another addition: english isn't my mother tongue, so sorry for misspellings!

enjoy the ride!

THE BAD BATCH

Wrecker

a tooka for wrecker || no pairing

moments like these (fireworks) || x fem!reader

butterflies in your chest || x reader

weightless || no pairing

Echo

meeting the family || x gn!reader, 1st person

Tech

not bad at all || x gn!reader

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2014 MASTERLIST

OTHER CLONES

All I want for Christmas... || Avdent Calendar: small fics with different clones!

eternity || Fives x reader, 1st person [part of pineapples halloweenparty 2023]

familiar faces || Reece x gn!reader

"FAN ART" & OTHER STUFF

valentine's day surprise

oc heliv & making of || 3D character / togruta oc

lumina & shop || 3D character & environment

the bad batch painting

downtime with heliv and ney [submission for isthereanechoinhere96's 400 follower celebration]

the tramp stamp || Hunter & Wrecker lego comic [prize for isthereanechoinhere96's 400 follower celebration]

a day at the lake || Wrecker lego photography

swimming and camping prohibited || Wrecker lego photography

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain"

Chapter 54

"A Rare Kind"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @l-lend once again for letting me write for her OC, Rina, and because she helped come up with a lot of the ideas in this one! This one is for you, K!! 🥰💜

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @tmnt-leo-simp , @tech-aficionado , @ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettroseog , @tech-deck , @thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink , @l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49

《 Chapter 53

》 Chapter 55

All chapters

Explanation: While getting over a bout of sudden sickness, Rina gets special "medical" care from Wrecker, with a little help from Kimber, Echo and Tech.

“No, Irys, your coding is too simple. Any slicer could see through that in minutes.”

“I’m telling you, Tech, it’s perfectly fine! This is how I’ve coded for years and no one has ever traced it back to me because of its simplicity.”

“If you want to settle for mediocre hacking, then by all means.”

“Excuse me? It was my 'mediocre hacking' that got you boys found and rescued! Would you rather we just take you back to Nar Shadaa because I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Apparently, getting Tech and Irys, the two intelligent ones of both teams, to talk to each other had been a bad idea.

The Clone and the Togruta had started bickering almost immediately as they began things by comparing their hacking skills and Tech had found Irys’s technique too simple and outdated, whereas Irys complained that his were too complicated and unnecessary. The rest of the Bad Batch and the Koriena Force had taken a few steps back, leaving the two to argue.

“Okay, this is not how I envisioned their first meeting going,” Kimber muttered, embarrassed, to Echo next to her.

“Trust me, I don’t think any of us pictured this,” replied Echo.

Then Lex spoke up, “You really didn’t think two highly intelligent people would try and outsmart each other right away?”

Shrugging, Kimber replied, “I just thought they would want to exchange knowledge and information, not compete to see who’s the smartest.”

“Well, apparently these two are the exception,” commented Kida. Then she smirked deviously. “Who thinks they’re going to end up kissing each other by the end of our time here?”

The Clones all looked to Kida in bewilderment while Kimber and Lex both rolled their eyes.

“Is everything just about romance and flirting with you?” inquired Kimber, snickering.

“Pretty much,” Kida answered casually, grinning largely as she brushed some of her magenta hair behind her ear and off her shoulder.

As the Pantoran moved her hair, Kimber happened to catch sight of a purple mark on her neck just above her collar and had the feeling Kida didn’t even know it was there. Kimber couldn’t help but grin herself, knowing exactly what that was and how her friend got it.

She sidestepped next to Kida, turned in towards her and whispered, “Did you enjoy your time with the Captain back on the cruiser?”

Kida visibly stiffened for a second before answering, acting casual, “He was very kind and helped oversee my medical attention in the infirmary. He took good care of me.”

Kimber couldn’t stifle a chuckle at that response and said in kind, “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

She stole a sideways glance at Kida and then subtly ran her fingers on her own neck where Kida’s mark was on hers and gestured with her eyes to it. Kida recognized her hint immediately and her eyes flashed wide for a second before looking away and hiding her surprise behind a mask of nonchalance.

“Lex and Irys told me you all saw us kissing,” she informed Kimber.

Snickering again, Kimber simply said quietly, “It would seem your flirtations actually worked on Rex.”

“I don’t know who is more surprised, you guys or me,” she said back. Then her lips curled up into a sweet smile and, strangely, she looked to the ground shyly. “Rex is...really amazing. He is brave, caring and determined. I guess in the midst of trying to just be fun and coy with him…I too found myself actually falling for him.”

Impressed, Kimber raised her eyebrows and nodded to herself. “Well…I’m impressed with the both of you.”

“I’ve never actually developed feelings like this for a man I just wanted to flirt with,” Kida admitted.

Grinning, Kimber said back, “That’s because Rex is a Clone and, in my personal opinion and experience…Clones are superior to all other men.”

Kida then chuckled herself and nodded in agreement. Then her smile faded as she said, “I just wish he and I didn’t have to part ways so soon. I feel like I was just barely getting to know him and we didn’t have much of a chance to truthfully get to know one another, what with all the planning we had to do and carrying out the mission in general.”

Laying a hand on her arm, Kimber reassured her, “I’m sure you’ll get the chance to see him again and things can develop more naturally between you. This won’t be your last meeting.”

With a slight blush in her cheeks, Kida responded, “I certainly hope so.”

Just then, there was a call off in the distance and when they all looked to see where it came from, they were shocked to see Hunter walking speedily in their direction, an unconscious Rina lying in his arms. In a panic at seeing her friend like that, Kimber broke into a run towards Hunter and a few seconds later, Wrecker appeared at her side running next to her and she could hear the others following behind her.

“What happened?” cried Kimber.

Hunter stopped as she approached and he explained, “I don’t know. We were talking and then all of a sudden, she vomited and then collapsed.”

Irys went on to ask him, “Was she smoking her mod?”

He nodded.

“Does she still have her patches on?” inquired Lex.

“Yeah, she showed them to me,” he answered.

“Karabast…!” Lex huffed. “She knows better than that.”

Crosshair came up next to her. “Care to share here?” he questioned.

“Rina wears nic patches on missions so she doesn’t have to smoke,” explained Irys, “and if she takes too big a hit right after and while still wearing them, all that nicotine makes her very sick.”

Wrecker piped in, clearly nervous about Rina, “We have to get her on the Marauder. We need to help her. Here, Hunter, give her to me.”

Without even waiting, Wrecker just scooped up Rina right from Hunter’s arms, startling him slightly, and then turned on his heel and walked quickly back in the direction of the Marauder.

“Well…he really is smitten with Rina,” Tech pointed out.

“I thought that was obvious,” Irys said to him in reply.

Tech grimaced at her.

Kimber turned to Echo and stated, “Echo, maybe you and I should go with Wrecker and make sure things go okay.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” he replied with a nod and the two of them jogged after him.

They got inside the Marauder and saw that Wrecker and Rina were not in the cockpit, which only left one other place in the ship they could be. They went back towards the bunk area and sure enough, found Wrecker back in his own bunk scrambling through their box of medical supplies on the floor with Rina lying on the bed.

Wrecker pulled out a stim and a bottle and muttered to himself, “I…think this is it.”

“Oh boy…,” grumbled Echo. Then he whispered to Kimber, “Yeah, good call on coming over here.” After that, he stepped into the room and declared, “No, Wrecker, that’s not the one you want. Let me help.”

Echo took the supplies from Wrecker’s hands and swapped places with him, going through the box to find the right medicine. Wrecker stood up and went back towards the door, rubbing the back of his head anxiously. His eyes found Kimber standing in the doorway and his expression turned sad.

“Is she going to be okay, Kimber?” he asked.

Laying a hand on his bicep, she told him, “She’ll be fine in no time, Wrecker, don’t you worry. Her life isn’t in danger. She’s just had too much to smoke and the chemicals in it made her sick. All she needs is some rest and a little medicine and she’ll be back on her feet before you know it.”

They heard a hissing sound of a stim syringe being administered and suddenly, Rina awoke and jolted up in the bed, shouting, “Owww! Son of a bantha, that hurt!”

The sudden movements made her stomach lurch and the nausea returned, her insides bubbling up. However, she caught sight of Wrecker watching her with wide, concerned eyes and she nearly squeaked.

“Oh Force alive, don’t let me hurl in front of him,” she prayed in her head as she willed herself to keep from vomiting.

Kimber could see the worried look in Rina’s eyes at spotting Wrecker and knew immediately what to do. She quickly ducked back into the cockpit, grabbed her helmet and went back to Wrecker’s bunk. Taking his arm, she said to him, “Come step outside with me for a minute.” As she ushered him out, she called Echo’s name, tossed him her helmet and gestured with her head to give it to Rina. He nodded in understanding just before she closed the door. Right after the door shut, they could hear Rina retching on the other side.

“Did you just give Rina your helmet for that?” Wrecker questioned, perplexed.

She shrugged. “It was the first thing I could think of to help her out with the vomiting.” She knew it was probably going to be a pain to clean out her helmet after this, but she didn’t care. Rina was her friend and she had her back in a less than ideal situation.

“You know, I don’t get it,” Wrecker stated. “If that stuff she smokes is bad for her and it makes her sick…then why does she keep doing it?”

She heaved a heavy sigh as they walked out into the cabin, trying to think of how exactly to explain it. Wrecker was smart already, but this was something a bit more complicated that he didn’t quite understand. How could she put it into terms that he would get?

Then she thought of something he might comprehend best.

“Wrecker, you know how when you’re assembling a smoke bomb, you have to put certain chemicals inside it for it to create the smoke and if you put the wrong things or too much of one thing, the bomb will malfunction?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Well, Rina is sort of like a smoke bomb in this instance," she went on. "She put too much of the wrong things inside her and now her body is malfunctioning because of it. Now as to why she does it…you know how, when you’re not feeling great, you have Lula to help you feel better?”

Wrecker gave her a nod.

“For Rina, the vape that she smokes does something similar. Though, instead of making her feel better emotionally like Lula does for you, the smoking makes her feel physically better. The chemicals in it produce a soothing effect that helps keep her calm. However, they are still harmful and too much of it makes her sick. It’s not the best method of making herself feel better, but it’s what she chooses to do.”

“Oh okay,” he said in understanding. Then rubbing the back of his neck, he went on to ask, “Well…what can we do? I don’t like seeing her like that.” Then he almost seemed to answer his own question as his eyes widened a second later and he stated, “Oh, what if I get her a doll like Lula of her own to help her feel better? I can give it to her before…before she leaves?” His face fell at the thought of when the Bad Batch inevitably had to part ways with the Koriena Force.

She patted him consolingly on the arm and smiled up at him, “I think she would love that, Wrecker. Especially coming from you.”

Her confident answer reassured him and he grinned, though with still a hint of sadness behind it. “Thanks, Kimber.”

“Though, we may want to give her a little time. Let Echo do his thing with the medicine she needs and then she’ll most likely want to sleep afterwards,” Kimber encouraged him, “but I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you when she wakes up.”

At that moment, they heard a door open and close from back in the bunk area and then Echo emerged from in the back, Kimber’s helmet in his hand.

“All right, I’ve given Rina some meds for her nausea and a sedative so she can hopefully sleep some of that nicotine off,” he informed them. He held up Kimber’s helmet and then said, “She did quite a number in this, so I’m going to go clean it for you.”

“Oh no, Echo, you don’t have to do that,” she protested.

He however refuted, “It’s really okay, I don’t mind. That was some good, quick thinking on your part. I’ll make sure all traces of the vomit are washed out.”

“Thanks, Echo,” she told him.

He bowed his head and then exited the ship.

Looking to the burly Clone beside her, Kimber told him, “Wrecker, I might have an idea. Though, we’ll need to make a trip to the city and we might need Tech’s advice, as well.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

She was already heading to the doorway of the Marauder and she called Tech’s name, signaling him to come to the ship. Promptly, Tech jogged over at her beck and call.

“Tech, we need your help coming up with a way to stop Rina’s smoking,” she told him.

“What do you need: a recreational method or a form of therapy?” he asked.

“I was thinking recreational; something we can buy at the market in the city,” she said.

With a nod, Tech took out his datapad and said, “Let us head that way and see what is available. I am sure we can find something.” He turned back over his shoulder and called out, “We require a trek to the city. We shall be back shortly.” Then, without waiting for anything, he started off walking.

Kimber and Wrecker saw everyone else’s perplexed looks, simply shrugged and followed after Tech.

Rina awoke from her sleep with a splitting headache. It had been a while since she'd needed to use the nic patches that she had unfortunately forgotten the side effects of having them and then hitting the mod too soon afterwards. That definitely hadn't been a smart move on her part. Though, at least the nausea wasn't there anymore.

“Oh man, I really hope Wrecker didn’t see anything,” was the first mortified thought she had. For someone who was normally so confident about everything, something about Wrecker made her feel shy and nervous, especially after being sick. She couldn’t recall much because everything prior to when she went to sleep was all a hazy blur. All she could remember was hoping Wrecker didn’t see her vomit, but that was it. The other Clone, Echo, might’ve been there, too, but she wasn’t entirely sure off the top of her head.

As her sleepy vision began to clear up, she realized that someone was in the room with her, sleeping in a chair next to the cot with something in his arms and snoring softly.

“Wrecker?” she asked groggily aloud.

Her voice startled the larger Clone awake and his eyes went wide upon seeing Rina was awake. “Hey Rina,” he said to her. “How are you feeling?”

She groaned, laying her head back down. “Like I got slammed into a wall by a Rancor,” she told him. “Though, I’m not nauseous anymore.”

“That’s still good,” he said back.

She turned her head to look at him and asked, "How long have you been in here?"

Rubbing his head and chuckling timidly, he answered, "I...don't actually know because I fell asleep. A while, probably." Then he gave her a tiny smile and added, "But I, uh...I came to give you something."

Her eyebrows raised. "You don't say?" she replied, sitting up in the cot.

Wrecker nodded and then held out to Rina the object he held in his hands. She took it and realized...it was a tooka doll. It was black with arms, ears, legs and button eyes all the color blue.

Rina felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at the doll in her hands, causing her voice to fail her. Images of her sister’s kids flashed in her mind and the toys they themselves had…it had been some time since she’d seen them; a long time since she’d even held a toy like this. The memories of her family was something she hadn’t expected to experience in getting this gift from Wrecker, though it almost seemed to help her feel even more better than the sentiment behind it already did. 

Clearing her throat and composing herself, she then asked him, “How did you know blue was my favorite color?”

Wrecker’s cheeks went a little pink as he admitted, “I didn’t know, actually. I just happened to think it was a color combination you would like. Guess I made the right choice then.”

“Yeah, you sure did,” she said. 

“I have a doll, too, that makes me feel better when I’m feeling down, so I thought…maybe in getting you one of your own, it could help you, too,” he explained.

“I love it,” she told him, hugging it close to her chest and burying her nose into the crook of the tooka’s neck. However, she was surprised to discover a strong, sweet, flowery scent emanating from within the fabric of the doll. “Whoa…this smells really good,” she stated.

“Oh yeah, that’s the other part of it,” he told her. When she tilted her head curiously at him, he went on to explain, as best he could anyway, “That’s actually something called sweetblossom that’s inside of it. It’s a drug, but a good kind.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re giving me…a drug-laced doll?” she asked flatly.

Now getting nervous, Wrecker went on to say, “Well…yeah…but there’s a good reason.”

She raised her eyebrows, anticipating his explanation.

Wrecker hung his head and exhaled a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. Then he sat up, straightened himself, looked at her intently and stated, “Rina, I don’t like your smoking and how sick it makes you.”

Her eyebrows raised even higher and her eyes widened for a brief second in response.

The larger Clone kept going, “Kimber tells me you’ve wanted to stop, but you can’t, and that you’re putting bad things in your body to help you deal with stress and stuff.” Then he turned a little timid as he admitted, “I got scared when Hunter brought you back and said you were really sick. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know what to do, so Echo, Kimber and Tech helped me. Tech says that drug, sweetblossom, is a…a…I forget what kind it is, but it’s supposed to be one you can’t get addicted to like your smoking and can also help with your stress. It’s supposed to make you feel calm and numb your bad feelings. Kimber thought about just giving you a bottle of it to inhale when you need it, but then…I had the thought of just putting a few drops of it in the fabric of the doll, so...they both can help you at the same time. The sweetblossom can maybe help you quit smoking finally and the tooka can help you feel better emotionally. It’s a win-win.”

For perhaps the first time in a long time, Rina was at a loss for words. Even though she still barely knew Wrecker, he cared enough to try and help her break her bad smoking habit for good. No one had ever cared that much. Kimber had encouraged her to try quitting during their first meeting on Jakku and even that had been different to what Rina was used to. Now, here were these Clones who had actually gone out of their way to figure out a different kind of non-addictive drug that she could use in place of her vape mod, purchased it for her and gave it to her inside of a cute tooka doll. She was beginning to see why Kimber loved these guys so much. They really were something.

Especially the one sitting at her bedside. 

“I…I don’t know what to say,” she told him, “...except for thank you.”

“It was no problem. We were happy to help,” he said back, grinning at the fact that she liked the gift. Then he reached behind him and pulled out a medium-sized steel canister. “This has the sweetblossom inside and there’s a dropper inside the lid. It should last you a while. Or Tech says so, anyway. I really hope it helps because I don’t want to see you get so sick again like that. I want you to be strong and healthy and--oh!”

All of a sudden, Rina was practically in Wrecker’s lap and her arms were wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly. He hadn’t expected anything like this from her, but he sure couldn’t deny that he was liking it. It still surprised him just how small she was yet the strength behind her hug and the pressure around his neck was intense. How was she this strong?

“Wrecker, you are a rare kind of guy,” she said to him while still hugging him. 

“I mean…yeah. I’m a big, strong Clone and there isn’t anyone else like me,” he replied a bit literally.

Rina chuckled at his naivety “You’re right, there really isn’t,” she said, pulling back from him. With a shy grin, she gave him two pats on the arm, unsure of what to do next. There was something she wanted to say, but was strangely feeling nervous about saying it. Fidgeting with her new tooka doll and looking down at it, she then told Wrecker timidly, “Well…I think the girls will want to head out once I’m better, but…if you want, you could…give me a ring while I’m away and keep in touch.” Then her eyes lifted slightly, gauging Wrecker’s reaction.

His eyes narrowed and he looked puzzled as he asked, “But…how can I give you a ring when you’re gone? I guess I can try, if that’s what you’d like, but how do you know if it’s going to fit?”

Realizing he thought she meant a literal ring, Rina chuckled heartily, letting her head fall into the back of her doll’s head. “No, big guy, I meant call me. On comms,” she clarified through a laugh. 

“Oh…!” he responded, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I can do that!”

“Kimber has my comm frequency, so you can tell her I gave you permission to have it, too,” she said to him. 

“Great!” he replied with a happy, toothy grin. 

Hugging the doll, Rina told him, “Thank you again for the doll and tell the others thanks for the sweetblossom. Hopefully it’ll work.”

“I hope so, too,” Wrecker replied. “What are you gonna name your tooka?”

Rina turned the doll over and took a long look at its face; at its little blue button eyes that stared up at her. “What did you name yours?” she asked, hoping maybe hearing what he named his tooka would give her some ideas.

He looked so proud as he declared, “Her name is Lula. She’s my special friend.”

“That’s so adorable,” she thought to herself. She wasn’t really someone that would think of a cutesy name like Wrecker had. For a moment, she thought of naming it “Wrecker” since he was the one who gave it to her, but that would probably be kind of weird…not to mention Kida would have a heyday making jokes about her “cuddling with Wrecker” if she did that. Maybe she could call it “Kimber” since they were good friends, but that just didn’t feel quite as right. 

Then she had an idea.

Looking back down at the doll, she put the name she was thinking of at the front of her mind to see if she thought it fit. As she gazed down at the little felt, cat-like face, the name seemed perfect.

“I think…I’ll name it Kicker,” she told him, “named after my two favorite people from Clone Force 99 who gave me this doll: Kimber and Wrecker.”

Wrecker’s eyes lit up and he gave her the biggest toothy grin ever. “Aw, you’re so sweet!” he cried and, without thinking, leaned forward and planted a big kiss on her cheek, catching her slightly off guard. He realized what he had done and was about ready to apologize, but then he caught sight of the shy yet joyful grin that was now on Rina’s face and he couldn’t help but smile himself. She didn’t seem put off by his actions; she actually looked happy about it, so that was encouraging.

All of a sudden, she then shook her head and buried her now reddened face behind Kicker. “Ugh, Wrecker, you’re making all me mushy! Stop!” she blurted out playfully. 

Why was she suddenly acting like a girly teenager around him? She wasn’t ever flustered about anything; she spoke what was on her mind and most of the time was unashamed about what came out of her mouth and how she acted. Then this giant hunk of a Clone comes into her life, catches her eye and now, she was all shy, speechless and bemused by him. Maybe Kimber was right...Clones were superior to all other men. 

With a deep, hearty chuckle, Wrecker responded, “You’re cute when you’re all shy. Maybe I should give you another kiss.” 

“No!” she cried out, clutching her doll even tighter. “I’m going to explode if you do!” 

He laughed boisterously and proceeded to wrap his arms around her, pull her against his chest and kiss her cheek again, this time longer and harder, making her squeal with both delight and slight embarrassment from the attention.

“I guess that makes you my favorite little explosive,” he stated, squeezing her tight.

She groaned aloud, now getting even more flustered as she gave him a shove, “Okay, nope! You’ve got to go, big guy!” If he stayed any longer, she was going to scream, whether it was out of joy or self-consciousness, she couldn’t quite say in the moment.

He simply snickered, amused at her shyness, but complied nonetheless. He got up from his chair and started making for the door. 

“Wrecker…whose room is this?” Rina asked behind him just as he activated the door.

Turning back to her, he said, “It’s mine.” Then with a grin, he stepped out.

“Oh, Force alive!” Rina moaned in disbelief as she let herself fall back onto the bed. 

All that time, she had been in Wrecker’s room? 

She lifted Kicker up in the air over her so she could look at it again, her heart fluttering at the fact that Wrecker had actually gotten it for her. It was probably one of the sweetest and most heartfelt gifts she’d ever gotten. He struck her as that kind of guy: sweet and heartfelt, so it was perfect. Then she brought it back down and hugged it close. The fabric was soft and the doll was so squishy. It really did bring her comfort to have something so cuddly that she could snuggle with when she needed it...and it felt even better knowing it came from Wrecker.

Then Rina inhaled deeply and the sweet, aromatic scent of the sweetblossom inside the fabric filled her sinuses. She could feel a cool, almost numbing sensation start to spread through her body as she breathed it in. It was pleasant and soothing. It felt nice to feel that way without the vape mod or the use of nic patches. It was a feeling she didn’t want to lose. Thanks to the care and generosity of her friends, both old and new, it seemed like maybe she’d be able to break her smoking habit and get better after all.

Rina was used to doing a lot of things on her own, but now, she had the Koriena Force ladies as well as the Bad Batch boys. Maybe she truly didn’t have to do anything alone anymore...and that gave her hope for the future.

[capricornus-rex]

For your muse! :D “How about making me vice president in charge of cheering you up?”

“Two Sides of the Coin” | Chapter 16: Memory in a Shallow Grave | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: This has got to be the longest reply (in the guise of a fic chapter) I’ve ever written! ;A; I hope you don’t mind the 4000+ or so word count, honey... because this is the part where Order 66 angst kicks in T^T

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @calsponchoemporium @stellar-trinity @queen-destenie @calgasm @cal-jestis @justtinfoley @peterwandaparker @sweeetteaa @ayamenimthiriel @superwarsofthrones @fallenjedii

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags: Order 66, Nomara Anesh, Togruta! Fem OC, Jedi Master! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 | Previous: Part 15 | Next: Part 17 | Masterlist

16 of ?

23 BBY

Jidné passed the time by studying the Holocrons she borrowed from the Archives, she came across Master Kit Fisto’s Holocron wherein he has discovered the ancient lightsaber modification that allows one’s saber to function underwater as it would on dry land. The little Padawan was intrigued and fascinated, so she set aside the other datacrons to listen to this particular one.

For the rest of the afternoon, she whiled away in reviewing the instructions and carefully studied the cross-sections. She realized that in order for this modification to work, she will need a second kyber crystal for the energy channels to route one another—since a single kyber would short-circuit if submerged or activated underwater.

“That would mean going to Ilum again,” Jidné thought out loud in the solace of her dorm. “I wonder if I could ask Master Anesh. I bet she’d allow me.”

“Jidné?” the disembodied voice of her master beckoned her.

The girl’s head jerked to the direction where she found the voice, she seals the Holocron shut using the Force with promptness and sees Master Anesh walking into the garden square. Jidné set aside the artifact on the bench along with her leather-bound journals where she copied the things she liked page after page, she landed on her feet as Nomara approached her little Padawan.

“I’m here, Master Anesh,”

Nomara peeked over the child’s shoulder and saw the Holocron sitting atop a small pile of notebooks.

“Have you been busy?”

“Just studying, I have something to tell you as well, Master Anesh!”

“Later, after today’s practice,”

Jidné nodded in agreement, then the master noticed the four turquoise beads adorning the end of her Padawan braid.

“Did you do something with your braid?”

“Hmm? Oh, remember our mission back in Alderaan? A peddler sold these beads. I thought the color’s pretty and they resembled the ones on your headband, so I thought of decorating my braid with it—to make it look like yours!” the Padawan girl beamed.

The radiance of her innocence endeared her master, the gesture warmed Nomara’s heart that she had to clutch her chest out of impulse.

“How sweet of you. I think it made your braid twice as prettier,”

“Thank you, Master!”

“You’re welcome. Come now, my little one, we’ve much to do for today’s practice,”

Jidné timed the moment where she can ask Master Anesh if she’ll permit to go to Ilum for that one requirement of the modification. Outspoken and carefree as ever, the Padawan girl decided to speak it out anyway before they could commence the training session.

“Master, if I may ask,”

“Yes, what is it, Jidné?”

“About your saber. Is it waterproof? I mean, can you use it underwater?” the Togruta slighted her head to the side, shooting the girl an attentive look.

“Yes, I can use it underwater. Why the sudden interest?”

“I came across a Holocron that shows how to modify the saber to make it work while in the water,”

The Togruta smiled, clearly recalling and knowing what the little Padawan is referring to.

“Ah, so that Holocron over there must be a copy of Master Fisto’s,”

“Yes, well, I was wondering if…” she trailed off rather bashfully, almost too shy to speak. “I could ask permission to go to Ilum—with you, of course! To get that second crystal to make it work,”

Nomara smiled, her response to Jidné’s request birthed a wide grin across the little ten-year-old’s face. The girl sprang up and down from the floor out of sheer excitement, her ecstatic “Yes!” echod across the emptiness of the gardens.

“But first, we still have instruction. We’re going to need to work on your Force Shroud. Remember when you told me that you still had trouble in using it? Well, we’ll work on that, okay?”

The girl flashed a small smile, “I’d like that very much.”

“We’ll begin when you’re ready,”

The Padawan did a series of stretches for warm-ups, as well as her spinning exercises for her lightsaber handling. Nomara’s teaching methods were similar to how Master Caius trained her—he didn’t rely on drones and droids, he personally sparred with Nomara during her days as an apprentice as well as enemies in the battlefield.

Nomara shed off her long, brown robes—making it easier for her to engage in combat against her Padawan. In between strikes and dodges, the Jedi Master bantered with the Padawan—giving her words of affirmation or extra tips to better the girl’s combat style. Jidné showed the same amount of promise that she demonstrated in the Initiate Trials; her skill with the lightsaber amplified with Anesh’s rather hands-on method of training, motivated by the aspiration to master Form V: Shien & Djem So—which the master can clearly see in the Padawan’s pattern of movement.

“Steel your nerves, Jidné, that way your Force Shroud doesn’t falter in the slightest scare!” Nomara coached, and the sharp-witted girl took that into mind.

In the next move, Jidné did steel her nerves while cloaked within her Force Shroud, she evaded Nomara’s line of sight and studied her master’s watchfulness until she could find the window of opportunity to strike. Jidné jabbed at Nomara’s direction—to which she flexibly deflected—but immediately pulled away to mislead her master’s eyes; again, she observed the Togruta’s expression and quickly realized that Nomara is still searching for the invisible Padawan.

“Very good, Jidné!” Master Anesh commended albeit incapable to find her Padawan.

Perhaps Jidné didn’t notice it—she didn’t turn visible when she landed that jab and only found out after Master Anesh affirmed her. The child was satisfied and proud of herself, continuing in that same rhythm, the instruction carried on until dusk.

—–

22 BBY

A year has passed since the Clone Wars began.

Members of the Jedi Council were, by default, appointed as generals, much to their chagrin and great contrast to the principles of their Order. A handful of Jedi were also dispatched as an auxiliary military group to aid the clones in fighting the war against Separatist and the droid army.

Seeing that it couldn’t be helped, Nomara—along with her little Padawan—has been named a general. She made peace with the fact that she can never keep a protective umbrella above Jidné’s head—away from all sorts of harm and violence—given that this was the life that her mother preferred for her than digging the earth to live back in her homeworld of Eshyn.

At the disposal of the Jedi General are the 304th Battalion of clones commanded by the trooper captain—CT-7462 or Captain Gat—and a fleet spearheaded by the Venator-class cruiser named Wayward Patriot. The Patriot became the pair’s second home after the Jedi Temple, Jidné’s only consolation and company aside from her master were the clones—which greatly fascinated her. She talked their way into their hearts with her curious questions and playful nature.

“Is training hard for you guys?” Jidné inquired.

The clone chuckled, “Well, it gets a bit tricky sometimes. I mean, it can’t be any different from your training, eh, kiddo?”

“Nah, I have it hard too, I guess,” Jidné shrugged one shoulder, then slowly breaks down into little chuckles. “Who doesn’t get their nerves worked up when they’re fighting another youngling with tons of masters and other kids watching you?”

“Ooh, that does sound tough!” the second clone played along while being genuinely bemused by the girl.

Despite the war, Nomara and Jidné continued their usual days for practice and instruction. The Padawan has made progress in utilizing her Force Shroud until she can now manipulate and bend it to her will. The eleven-year-old also found it thrilling and frightening at the same time—to be exposed to such degree of violence at this early a stage of her life.

“Run along now, little Jid,” the first clone tussled the girl’s head. “General Anesh is waiting for you. Best not to keep her waiting,”

“Right, see you guys later in my free time!”

Jidné hopped and skipped through the corridors of the Patriot until she found the specific room where she usually has her physical lessons with Master Anesh. She walked in on her master conversing with the clone accompanying them on the control room. The Padawan cleared her throat politely to call Nomara’s attention.

“Ah, Jidné, just in time,” Master Anesh cooed, gingerly dismissing the clone with a slow wave of the hand. “Are you ready for today’s practice?”

“Yes, Master Anesh,”

“Very good,” the Togruta turned to the terminal to press a pattern of buttons and then beckoned her Padawan. “Come now, my little one.”

The two of them descended from the control room for the ground level of the room via a turbolift. When they walked to the center of the room, Nomara held up a small remote in hand—with the single touch of a button, the tiles of the floor started to rise, take shape, hover and stick to the walls. The shifting and changing of the environment startled Jidné at first, but she got the hint.

“I didn’t know this room has that!” she beamed.

“It’s very conducive for using skills that you’ll often be utilizing in the battlefield,”

“I’m ready, Master!”

“I like your enthusiasm, Jidné,” Nomara smiled back. “Alright then, whenever you’re ready.”

Beginning with the physical exercises, little Jidné did her personalized set of stretches, she also studied the room—how it looked like, where the blocks are for her to take cover or use to her advantage—with a single passing glance before signaling her master to commence.

“Remember what I taught you, little one,”

“I always do, Master!”

The tile where Master Anesh elevated her until she stands in the same level as the control room, her pedestal remotely stayed in that height. Meanwhile, Jidné remained in the ground, her senses keening as she continues to study the structure of the room—given that the tiles and blocks can change at any given moment of Nomara’s command—while anticipating for her master’s starting signal.

Turrets unfolded from the ceiling of the room, their loud whirring alerted the girl, Nomara forewarned the girl that the guns were configured with non-lethal projectiles set for a training setting.

“Shall we begin, Jidné?”

The girl buckled, “Ready when you are, Master!”

Observing the Padawan scamper across the room, evading blaster fire here and there, Nomara can’t help but ponder to herself in her mind as she watched the girl skillfully evade and deflect the projectiles.

She has become more adept than I either hoped or imagine. That’s good. She’s learned to be strong and willful with the Force.

Her thinking led her to become off-guard of other thoughts. Out of the blue, the whistling noise the turrets made whenever they fire stimulated blurry images and incoherent sounds ringing in Nomara’s drums. She brought her hand to her head, massaging the base of her montral as she struggled to ease the sudden heaviness that she feels within her but couldn’t find.

—–

20 BBY, THE DAY OF THE JEDI PURGE

Jidné joined her master in the conference at the bridge comprised of the admiral manning the Patriot, real-time hologram projections of the Jedi Generals Plo Koon, Depa Billaba and her Padawan Caleb Dume joining the transmission. Jidné recognized Caleb as she has met him during a joint campaign with their masters; the two children smiled at one another upon finding each other in the conference.

The masters concurred in giving each other reinforcement if the need arises. Jidné intently studied the projections flashing in the holotable, reading the inscriptions and data numbers floating beside the diagrams of the weapons and map.

“May the Force be with us all,” Plo Koon bade, not out of custom but out of heart before his projection fizzled out of existence, followed by the other Jedi Masters and the other Padawan.

Nomara released a long sigh, she remained leaning by the edge of the table, her hand brought to her lip as she spaced out into deep thought. Jidné noticed this and didn’t disturb her until she opened her eyes again. The little girl wondered if the Togruta had the same thoughts she’s been having of late, she meant to disclose it to her master but they’ve been piled with tons of transmissions as the tension of the war rages on.

“There seems to be no end, does it, little one?”

“I suppose so, Master, but… We are doing a big help, aren’t we?”

The Togruta noticed the little girl’s tone to have mellowed but there’s a tinge of concern to it. Nomara places her hand gingerly on her dear Padawan’s head, stroking her hair down to her beaded Padawan braid.

“Yes, we are. It’s our job as peacekeepers to stop this kind of destruction from disturbing the planets who don’t deserve and need chaos,”

The master’s words did little to console the girl, despite managing a smile at the Togruta, the feeling of being downtrodden persisted within the young learner. Nomara then shepherded the child to the hangar where their starships await them. Along the way, Jidné didn’t seem to be herself lately.

“Your silence says a lot on your mind, child,”

Jidné jumped a bit, startled that her master pointed out her silence.

“Master, something doesn’t feel right. Please tell me you feel it, too,” it was unusual for Jidné to speak in a hushed tone, Nomara sensed the pang of worry that rung between the words of her Padawan.

She thought she had fully buried that worry into the recesses of her mind, but she was proven otherwise when the same heavy feeling returned to her—clutching and wrenching at her core. It was a bothersome feeling that she can’t exactly pinpoint… at least not yet.

“Yes, I have, my little Padawan. Although, much like yourself, I cannot seem to place my finger where it originates,”

Deploying from the underbelly of the Patriot, Nomara and Jidné’s starfighters led on a squadron of fighter pilots to the surface. The vessels dotted the sky in a crisp V-formation and circled the perimeter of the city in Modala, where thousands—if not hundreds—of battle droids were marching in organized blocks and columns, with the superweapon guarded in the middle of the formation.

“Cleaver, make sure you charge and prepare your ion cannons. We’re going to put that superweapon completely out of commission before it could reach the legislative building!” Nomara barked through her radio.

The fleet of fighters closed in on the surface, getting more range at the enemy by the minute. The droid army was alerted when their radars and scanners picked up a multitude of signatures coming from the Jedi’s fleet and their clones. The sight of their ships caused panic among the sentient, metal beanpoles that are the battle droids.

Nomara forewarned the entire fleet to disperse once the high-intensity ion cannon is fired. When the signal was given, all of the ships flew away from the blast radius that could disable their ships’ auxiliary and main power grids and made a running pass around the perimeter to find a safe landing spot.

“Prepare to continue this on land!”

Jidné licked her lips, a smug smirk curled on her face, “This is where the fun begins!”

The ground assault was tense. The flock of LAAT gunships assisted Nomara from the air, amplifying their firepower against the approaching droids and their superweapon.

Lightsaber in hand, both master and apprentice charged through the line of battle, deflecting blaster fire and cutting down the battle droids by the numbers until they could reach the building in the heart of the city.

The battle was won, but not the war. What seemed to be only hours felt like days, the Jedi and her Padawan have secured the legislative building as the Separatist general who hid in it willingly relinquished it after being arrested. Despite their victory today, Master Anesh could not shake the dark feeling that lingered within her heart.

“General Anesh,” a clone approached the pair to report, standing just behind Jidné. “We’ve made a sweep in the building. The captives and the guards have been freed and are taken to a medical ward in the city.”

“Very good news, please relay that to me later for my report to the Council,”

“Understood, General,” the captain erected his posture and saluted at the Togruta. He excused himself and was about to return to his post by the door, but in the middle of his walk, he answered an incoming transmission labeled as urgent.

Execute Order 66. Groaned an ancient, raspy voice through the muffled feedback of the clone trooper’s comlink.

The Togruta turned her attention to her little Padawan, overlooking the city through the window of the office space.

“Now that Modala’s been freed, are we going to give Master Plo or Master Billaba some reinforcements?”

“That still depends, my little one, we have yet to expect their transmiss—” Nomara abruptly left her sentence hanging, her hand instinctively went to the base of her montral, her fingers curling around the fullness of the horn to alleviate the aching but to no avail.

“Master, are you okay?” Jidné’s voice shuddered.

At the corner of her eye, Nomara spotted the clone aiming his rifle straight at the child’s head; the Padawan noticed the steely look in her master’s eyes and followed its direction, looking over her shoulder only to be face-to-face with the hole of a blaster’s barrel. Everything seemed move in slow motion, her heartbeat was the only thing ringing in her eardrums; the adrenaline sharpened her reflexes and senses, the Togruta brandished her saber, pushed the girl out of the line of fire and then cut down the clone. Jidné registered everything when the deed was done.

“Wha—what was that!? Was he gonna shoot me?! What’s going on?!” Jidné bombarded her master with question who was still recovering from the nausea.

“Jidné, something’s not right. Something’s very wrong,” Nomara panted. “Our clones have betrayed us. We need to leave this place. Now!”

“They’re in here!” the shout of a clone roared through the door, muffling his voice.

Nomara thought fast, she locked the door using the Force and laid out the escape plan to the girl as concisely as possible. However, they were cut short when one of the clones planted a sticky bomb to the door. The master and apprentice quickly cut down the clones that were coming after them, even after that run-in, neither of them withdrew their sabers.

“Where do we go from here?” Nomara thought out loud.

The Padawan peeked over the window again and saw that their starfighters were still intact.

“Master! Our starfighters!”

Both of them vaulted over the desk where they took cover, but before they could leave the room and run out into the open—with the risk of being chased by their clones—the Togruta grabbed Jidné by the shoulder and knelt to her Padawan’s height. Her plan was to split up—making herself live bait to lure out the clones so that Jidné can get to the ships safely. Of course, Jidné preferred sticking close with her master as much as possible, but Nomara tried to talk her into it.

“Whatever happens, you run. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jidné shuddered. Unable to contain her fear, she threw herself into Nomara’s arms and the Togruta embraced her Padawan in the tightest she could.

Master Anesh held the girl’s small face in her elegant hands, “Now, be brave. Don’t look back. I’ll be right with you. I promise.”

Jidné nodded, in turn, her master mouthed “Go” and the little Padawan girl bolted through the halls. Her legs carried her fast as they could, evading the clones whose senses are now on high-alert for both Jedi and Padawan. As much as she wanted to use her Force Shroud, the sheer levels of stress intervened with her focus—being able to only use it for a few minutes’ worth of running—when she felt that she’s re-materializing, she hugged the walls before turning around a corner to see if the coast was clear.

What went wrong? What changed? These questions screamed and ricocheted on the walls of her skull, and were answered by missed blaster fire and angry shouts of the clones, claiming that they’ve spotted the Jedi running.

“Where’s the little girl!?”

“She’ll come around, get the Jedi!”

Jidné crept to another path in the intersection, she was too busy focusing on the two clones who were in the corner that she didn’t notice the clone in the path where she’s heading into and bumped into his side. The clone was understandably startled, but upon sight of the Padawan, he swung his rifle and struck her across the face, a portion of the weapon had scraped the skin—producing a cut on her cheekbone.

The young Padawan was too frightened and confused to think fast, she crawled backwards—away from the Stormtrooper who was already aiming the barrel at her heart, until an indigo beam of light flew his way, cutting through his torso forward and then another when the lightsaber was spinning back to the direction of its owner.

“Jidné! Are you alright?!”

“Yes, Master Anesh!”

A clone appears out of the corner at the end of the hallway, “The Jedi and the little girl are here! Don’t let them escape!!!”

“This way, child! Come on!”

“Coming, Master!”

The two bolted through the grand, luxurious hallways now strewn with bodies of clones—both from the siege and their betrayal against the Jedi. The closer they think they’re getting to the exit where their starships are, the farther the clones push them in—cornering them into the building like mice in a maze.

Eventually, the clones have led them into the central foyer of the legislative building where they surround the master and her Padawan in a circle. This wasn’t part of Nomara’s plan, so she collected all of her might in her body—while praying to the Force to be with her—and then invisible yet torrential ripples exploded out of her hands, throwing the clones off of their feet and disorienting them. While there’s still a chance, before any of the clones could get back up on their feet again, both Jedi returned to following their original path.

“Keep up with me, Jidné!”

“I’m trying, Master!”

Finally! After losing their breath from evading the clones, the starships were in sight. The hope they thought was lost was regained. The two of them dashed out of the main entrance, the wake of destruction from the siege still ran fresh as smoke pillared to the heavens.

Just when they thought they’ve finally secured their escape, a line of troopers with an ARC Trooper in the middle stood in their way between the starships.

“Get behind me, little one!”

Jidné literally went back-to-back with Master Anesh, lightsaber in hand, and faced the direction of the main entrance anticipating the clones that the Togruta had disoriented using the Force. Not a moment later, the same clones from inside had reached them in the outer lobby.

“Jidné, I want you to do exactly as I say, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Master…”

Nomara spoke in the calmest of voices that Jidné has ever heard amidst the chaos, “Use your Shroud. Now.”

The Padawan’s eyes widened, partially with confusion and immense horror, she had a clue of what her master’s plan is. She didn’t like it—not a single bit.

“Jidné,” Nomara spoke calmly again, but the tone of her voice was hard and strict, so as to not give away their bluff to the troopers. The Togruta’s eye glanced to the side, looking at the frightened Padawan. “Now.”

The ARC Trooper, already trigger-happy, barked at his brothers, “Blast her!!”

“JIDNÉ, NOW!!”

“NOOOOOOOO….!!!!”

In the blink of an eye, Jidné felt like she was flying—and flying she was, Nomara had used the Force on the Padawan to send her out of the line of fire. Jidné only landed a feet away from the circle of clones with the Jedi in the center, deflecting and banking away their shots with the remainders of her strength. Obviously, it was too much for one exhausted Jedi to overpower a ring of fifteen or so clone troopers shooting at her from all directions. The little girl, unaware that she had absentmindedly activated her Force Shroud, witnessed the clone troopers—the other people she called her friends ever since this war began—pelt her master’s body with blaster fire.

Nomara, her body riddled with bullet holes through her armor and clothes, spotted little Jidné—in this instance, she was surprised to be able to see Jidné while the child was under the influence of the Force Shroud, she didn’t sought for the explanation, she was glad that her dear Padawan is unseen and unharmed, although it saddened her when their eyes met; never have Nomara ever seen the little girl so stricken with terror upon what she’s seeing.

As the final fulfillment of her promise—not to the mother anymore, but to the child albeit unspoken—Nomara called upon the Force, amplifying her the nearly-fluctuating energy within her. She pulled her arm back, fist clenched in the tightest that she could hold, and struck the soil hard—this wave was very much stronger than the last, the seismic magnitude of Nomara’s Force ability sent the clones literally flying. Some of the clones caught in the shockwave have died from a shattered spine or a cracked skull upon impact of a rock or the stone ground when they landed.

When the wave died down, Jidné is unscathed, though she’s left with the unfathomable degree of fear that her thirteen-year-old mind couldn’t wrap around. Nomara was still standing—however she’s clinging onto the last threads of dear life as she knows it. The Padawan scrambled up to her feet and caught her master before she could fumble near-dead to the soil.

“Master…” Jidné sobbed, cradling Nomara’s head on her lap.

“Jidné…” Nomara gasped, her vision already blurring and a black ring bordered her eyes.

“I’m here, Master…!”

The master hoists her weak hand to the Padawan’s cheek, her thumb ran across a tear streaming down the girl’s face. She choked as she struggled to speak.

“Jidné… you have to go…”

“No, I can’t leave you here!”

“Please… Jidné, more of them will be coming for you,” coughed Nomara, a tear rolled over her cheek. “Save yourself… Run!”

And with that final word, the bright, sparkling teal of Nomara’s eyes have turned milky and lifeless. Jidné couldn’t yet accept the reality of her master’s death, she shook the Togruta in a hopeless plea to wake up and there was no response. Nomara’s head bobbed limply in Jidné’s scrawny arms, the strand of beads fell from the montral headband and clattered to the dust. The girl picked it up and kept it in her pocket, regretting her decision of setting up a pyre for the deceased Jedi, seeing that this would alert the other clones who might still be looking for her.

Following her master’s final request, Jidné did run. Eventually, her running has brought her into the dense urban area of Modala, the entrance of her new life while leaving behind the one she has always known.

——————————————————–

CURRENT TIMELINE

“And ever since then, I survived Modala… somehow. But it still haunts me up to this day, I can’t seem to let go of it even if I wanted to,”

“We all have lost someone during the Jedi Purge. I know how hard it is to overcome the sadness,”

“Yeah… It’s just difficult to find more ways to cope,”

“How about making me vice president of cheering you up?”

Jidné turned her head to the boy. She chuckled, endeared by his child-like purity, a similar trait she has buried within the depths of her core, though she doesn’t realize that.

“Here, I got something for you,”

Cal produced a trinket strand similar to Jidné’s: a chain of Featherfern and Royal Fluzz buds—two for each—encased in transparent, glass beads. The Jedi girl admired the handiwork with wonderment.

“It’s a saber tassel like yours, I made it myself. My first gift as vice president of cheering you up,”

“It’s beautiful,” Jidné sighed, not wasting a second in tying it up along with her original tassel at the pommel.

She secured it with a tight double-knot, the new addition to her pommel dangled with the turquoise beads as she held it up in front of her and Cal. Finally, her tassel got prettier with the variety in color. She turned to the redhead and smiled warmly at him.

“Thank you… so much,”

“C’mere, you must be cold,” Cal cooed, lifting up his arm to open the sleeve of his poncho to offer his side to Jidné.

The girl scooted closer to the redhead’s side until his arm could wrap around her shoulder. She released what ought to be the biggest sigh to date, she felt her entire body soften up the moment Cal held her close, nuzzling his cheek against her head and curling his fingers tighter around her arm. For the first time in years, she felt safe.

[dottiechan]

I've lost count of all the Sith OCs I have... Anyways, here's Minaryah, my perpetually apathetic & snarky lesbian Sith Lord.

[gothwarlocks]

some new clowns hot off the press (and still pretty fresh so nothing is too solid)

but look at my new?? maybe permanent ocs lol

So this is the most solid of the two. I don’t even really know how he came about, I think I was a little stoned and wasting time in the appearance editor in my stronghold lol. Here’s some stuff I have sorted for him so far:

name: some form of Jacinto, I’m just playing around with the spelling. Maybe Jacintho? Jacynto? Idk yet but I just LOVE that first name and its different pronunciations. short name would be like “Jac” (/jass/). I will have a surname sorted one day.

gender: transmasculine (non-binary). he’s ftm but also, non-op!! :)

pronouns: I’m leaning towards something not strictly he/him. he might end up he/they or he/they/she or even with neopronouns. but like with Andras, idk why I haven’t nailed down that detail yet.

age: 27 or something near it at 10ATC?

sexual orientation: mlm

redeemed sith apprentice? this is a recycled idea from my last sentinel oc. still sorting this and the rest of his background out.

mauve/mauve crystals that he kept from his time as a sith :) haven’t gotten the right sabers though... idk what he’ll end up with!

he may still romance Scourge like I had planned to with my previous sentinel lol.

considering undertaking the sisyphean task of dropping his alignment from Light IV to Dark I for potential brown/orange eyes lol otherwise his natural eyes are black.

this is so nitpicky but rather than those cuffs(?) I want him to have just the hoop earrings the fem model rattataki are allowed to wear. this jewelry set looks fine but visually reminds me too much of Andras’ so. I would like little snug hoops....

He’s got 3 outfits planned so far! I feel so organized lol.

And this is the more loose concept. Angry with myself for making another red color-scheme character and I may change him up to negate that but whatever lol.

A whacky little space pirate with a heart of...pyrite. haha. pirate pyrite... Censored bc I’m not settled on a face yet lol ugh Togruta males looks a little...funny in BT1 but it’s ok! Anyway:

name: uh???

gender: cis man (but make is hot stupid sexy dumpster fire couture. bimbo energy.)

pronouns: he/him

age: 27 at 10ATC? late 20′s anyway. because swtor covers such a wide period of time I’m pretty bad at nailing down exact ages for all my toons. like would they still be the same person near 40? idk lol

sexual orientation: bi!

a highly successful pirate for his age, but ultimately a crack shot living on borrowed time. he’s pissed off a lot of people over the years and it’s not looking good lol. he ends up lumped in with Lev’s loosely-tied group.

I think he’d romance Risha for the space pirate royalty romance of it all but Akaavi tho.... I picture this guy being pretty smooth brain for strong ladies..

He’s like if Lev had very little morals, basically. He’s more superficial, more materialistic, and more willing to fuck people over to get his paycheck. Lev gets pretty angry with him lol.

he’s kind of an impulse design based around the masked bandit from The Fall :’)

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (14)

Chapter 14: First Conscious Moments | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also tagging @berenilion @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @justtinfoley @stellar-trinity @justtinfoley @peterwandaparker @justtinfoley @superwarsofthrones @queen-destenie @calgasm @cal-jestis @ayamenimthiriel @calsponchoemporium @sweeetteaa @fallenjedii​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags for this chapter: Youngling! Jidné Sheedra, Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta! Fem OC,

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 | Previous: Part 13 | Next: Part 15 | Masterlist

14 of ?

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Nomara has returned to Coruscant with little Jidné along. Never has she ever been this careful, ignoring the ache of her arm as she held the swaddled child while her free hand steered her ship—with the partial assistance of Evy—until she landed on the east bay of the Jedi Temple. Nomara marched towards the main entrance of the grand temple while shielding the baby with her other wide sleeve, worried that the unusually strong wind might prick her little eyes.

Upon her entry to the temple, she was greeted by Master Yoda, the little sage being waddled with the aid of his cane. The green Jedi noticed the precious cargo in the Togruta’s arm.

“Back so soon, are you, Master Anesh,”

Nomara bowed curtly in return, “I’ve been only gone for a day and a half, Master Yoda,”

Yoda took notice of the swaddled bundle in the Togruta’s arm a second time. A weak smile managed upon his ancient face.

“Something precious with you, you seem to have brought, hmmm?”

An eager grin stretched upon the young Togruta’s face, she knelt down to his level, and then unfurled a portion of the swaddle that covered Jidné’s face. The child cooed at the sight of Master Yoda’s face—curious and delighted at the same time—the old master chuckled while being in the presence of something so small yet seemingly strong.

Yoda inquired about the child’s origin planet, Nomara indulged the old master with the goings on in Eshyn, he expressed his awareness of the planet’s state as he was also informed during council meetings.

“I swore to her mother that she’ll be taken care of,” Nomara reiterated.

“I understand. Trained and cared for, she will be. A good Jedi, she will grow into.”

Upon those final words, Nomara glanced on Jidné again; she afforded a hopeful look at the child’s face and she was greeted with an infectious, angelic smile—the young Togruta wholeheartedly agreed with the elderly master, she could almost imagine Jidné growing up as a Padawna and then a Knight.

When Yoda offered to summon the caretakers, Nomara politely refused and insisted she deliver Jidné to the children’s ward herself. Yoda caved, they ended up walking together to their destination, bowing to greet those whoever comes in their way.

Nomara was pretty sure that she had sensed it: Yoda’s cautious examination of how she behaved towards him regarding Jidné. Attachment was forbidden to the Jedi, since time immemorial that has been one of the primary lessons embedded into younglings’ minds the moment they can comprehend words. However, Nomara’s notion differed from the Council’s, stemming from the like-mindedness of her master, Loriq Caius—he was more inclined to learning the ways of the “Living Force,” an ideology that he and Master Qui Gon Jinn shared and often find one another in concurrence.

Upon their arrival of the children’s ward, a caretaker slowly approaches the Jedi with the child in hand and transfers Jidné into her arms; for a moment, the baby squirmed and cooed a worried tone to which Nomara quickly hushed softly, comforting the child before being held by someone else. Shortly after the separation, Master Caius himself enters the ward.

“Master Caius!” the Togruta exclaimed.

“I heard news that Nomara has returned quite so soon—with a youngling at that—I just wanted to check on my old apprentice,”

“I’m well, Master. And you?”

“Likewise,” Caius leisurely answered.

The banter was abruptly cut off because Jidné’s fussing had caught all of those in the ward, all heads turned to the child. Loriq got the hint. He examined the child who’s settled in that tiny pod of a bassinet while being bottle-fed. From where he stood, he can sense the Force rippling out of the child in an overwhelming magnitude that it’s unusual to see it from one so tenderly young; he rubbed his bearded chin as he joined the others’ observation of the toddler.

The caretaker approached the Jedi.

“With all due respect, Jedi, it is time for the children’s midday slumber. May I request you to exit the ward?”

The three Jedi obliged and bowed at the caretaker who returned the gesture. The room dimmed as soon as they left the room. Yoda excused himself and went the other way; Nomara was now left with her master by the door.

Ever since Loriq saw the child in the nursery and felt her Force ripple, he sensed something else—from Nomara. It’s as if the amount of Force that Jidné exuded, Nomara’s body—although unconsciously—repeats it, like soundwaves resonating with one another. Before the Togruta could walk away, the master gently tapped her shoulder.

“Nomara, do you have a moment?”

Promptly, the Togruta turned around and faced her master. Standing close to Loriq, she never realized that she was nearly as tall as him, with her montrals boosting her height just three inches more until its tips go past his head—memories of her youth reminded her of how she always had to tilt her head in order to look at him in the eye, but now that she’s grown, she didn’t need to take a pace backwards to see him eye-to-eye.

“Something on your mind, Master?”

“You sense something within the child,”

“Yes, the Force is strong with her that… just by looking at her, it’s overwhelming,”

“In addition to that, Nomara, I’m sure you’ve sensed it as well,”

The former, now-grown apprentice doesn’t follow. She pulled her eyebrows together, shooting a puzzled look at her master and wordlessly asking him to elaborate. Loriq decided to rephrase himself, he shifted and began to walk, Nomara followed by his side as they spoke

“I’d like you to recollect your feelings when you saw the child,” Loriq craned his head to Nomara, who kept her eyes ahead. “Search your feelings.”

Eventually, Nomara narrated everything that she saw in Eshyn—beginning with her meeting with Sentuk until taking Jidné with her, as well as what she felt from the little girl. She explains the feeling as a closeness of sorts, as though the pure feeling always finds its way to her, and then she’d resonate with the child—this occurred constantly ever since she and Jidné touched hands upon meeting.

“It’s only natural for two Force-sensitive to have a sort of connection, however, the difference is that connection grows over time. As for you—and Jidné, I suppose—it’s different, unusual even. The ripple is strong, perhaps the better would be ‘current’ given the magnitude of your Force energies’ convergence.”

“I’m not sure if I’m accurate, but are you implying that two Force-individuals may already forge a connection despite how briefly they just met? Do their energies bounce back one another, like a wave?”

“Perhaps. Whichever it is, it’s a rare Force-sensitive trait. I might have to meditate on it soon,”

The sage Jedi Master stopped walking in place, they ended up standing by the tall window overlooking the city and continued their conversation there with enough privacy. Loriq read Nomara’s silence as an eagerness to watch over the child, given that the first chain links of their bond have already closed. Instead of dismissing the gradual attachment between his apprentice and the youngling, he encouraged her with an open mind.

“The Force is telling you something about and through this child, Nomara. I implore you to allow your insights to serve you well, as I have taught you,”

“I’ll keep in mind, Master,”

——————————————————–

26 BBY

Over the years, Nomara has become a frequent audience member in the arena where the younglings—the prospective Initiates and Padawans—undergo their formal training and education. A single session is equally distributed between typical classroom lectures and application, the latter being the children’s favorite part. The Togruta always keeps a watchful eye on Jidné from the stands, but kept herself subtle; she’d often find herself in the company of the other masters—even the members of the Council themselves—as they observed the children from a distance.

Jidné, now seven years old, has made friends with the male Nautolan named Brese, and another human female, Leane. Each child was just one year apart from the other—but Jidné was the one in the middle—the small age gap made it much easier for them to get along. Master Tera Sinube was today’s proctor, he stood at the center of a ring of excited children who couldn’t stay still with their practice sabers in hand.

Tera Sinube tapped the floor with the end of his cane, “Youngling, younglings! Settle.”

The murmurs of the children died down, allowing Master Sinube to begin his session. He briefed them about the practical application of today’s lecture: performing basic lightsaber stances while balancing their dependence on the Force. Everyone in the chamber sensed some of the children’s gradual anxiety, it felt like too big a task for them to juggle between two abilities—one physically, and mentally for the other—including Jidné and her friends.

“Now, now,” Sinube hushed. “I understand that it may sound and look difficult, but remember: if you let the Force guide you, it will come to each and every one of you like second nature. As easy as breathing, if I may so!”

Sinube decided to encourage the class with a volunteer, when nobody stepped forward after twenty seconds have passed, the old proctor decided to find one himself. He followed the line that the children formed, some of them followed him with their heads or eyes while the others stared blankly straight into random portions of the room to avoid eye contact. While the search for a volunteer continued, the Jedi Knights Mace Windu and Shaak Ti stopped by to do some observing as well.

“Master Windu, Master Ti,” acknowledged Nomara.

Her greeting was returned by the two knights. Shaak Ti stood closer to her fellow Togruta by the stands—they were very alike physically, but their unique markings and clothes distinguished one from the other—they watched the session take place by the rails. The Jedi Master asked Nomara what’s already transpiring, the younger Togruta was happy to fill her in with the details.

Windu, on the other hand, stood by the banister though at a few inches away from the pair. His perpetually-furrowed eyebrows looked upon the gathered children surrounding the single proctor, he watched the older Jedi below circle the group of children with crossed arms and a curious scowl.

“Jidné?”

Despite Master Sinube’s gentle tone, the girl was still startled by the mention of her name. She looked to her friends and they subtly bobbed their heads, prompting her to move. She had no choice but to step forward, both hands clutched around the practice saber’s sleeve; Jidné’s nervous eyes found Tera Sinube returning to the center of the circle, patiently waiting as he leaned on his cane for support, then her gaze panned left and right, and then up and down—searching for some sort of visual signal to calm herself.

Her eyes found a pair of near-identical Togrutas standing next to each other at the stands, but her eyes focused on the one whose montrals had indigo patches snaking along the tapering, white tendrils. Somehow, she recognized that Togruta, and all of a sudden, the queasy stomach she had disappeared.

“Jidné, are you ready?” Sinube checked.

“Yes, Master Sinube,”

“Very good. Now, take your saber and put yourself in a stance, any stance,”

The little girl took a deep breath before buckling her knees and holding her saber in a defensive stance. The old Jedi commended the child. Moments later, he summoned an older child, a blond boy whose age may play along the line of twelve or thirteen—with a single glance of the thin braid hanging behind his ear, everyone knew that he was a Padawan.

“Alright, let’s do some light sparring—while keeping in mind the lessons we learned today,” Sinube placed his hand on the blond boy’s shoulder and gently shepherded him to the spot where he stands. “Paz, you may begin with Jidné here.”

“You ready, Jidné?” Paz checked before positioning himself in a stance.

The little girl nodded, following the words of the lecture and then putting it to play. At the first few seconds of the spar, Jidné anticipated the bigger kid’s attack—she got lucky by evading Paz’s lunge by deflecting his strike, holding for a few seconds, and then pull away to recompose herself for the next attack.

This was only the beginning. Janky strikes between the two children filled the room with the blinding lights of the sabers once clashed, both Jidné and Paz with a novice’s footwork before trading strikes; the other younglings who stood close in the action as the two sparred gave way and then returned when they’ve gotten farther.

As the sparring continued, Nomara brings her chin between her two fingers as she watches the action below ensue—it’s evident she was on edge just by spectating from the stands. The other Togruta dismissed the young Seeker’s mannerism as intrigue—as one would when observing something energetic. As for Master Windu, ever so direct of a man, took note of this too, but didn’t come as gently as Shaak Ti does.

“You seem to have your eye on that girl over there,” Mace Windu points out.

“It’s because I was the one who discovered her,” Nomara spoke with a degree of pride, her private smile was just one inch shy of being a grin.

Jidné eventually came to a point where she used a little bit of the Force out of impulse—outstretching her open hand at him caused him to stagger a few paces back from her. When she succeeded, she bought the opportunity to deliver a flurry of blows; it invigorated her when she pulled off a spinning deflect—a heat of the moment sort of thing, despite being a basic spin—which denied Paz a hit on her when he thought he found a window of opportunity.

The other masters continued their observation, Jidné and Paz’s sparring passively encouraged the other children. It concluded when both children had each other at swordpoint—their sabers hovering mere inches above the shoulder. Jidné and Paz quickly retracted their sabers and bowed while facing each other, a customary greeting amongst the Jedi, old and young alike. Tera Sinube hushed the excited children squirming in place and commanded them to settle down, promising them their own chance to spar.

Jidné and Paz were allowed to catch a breather while the other children prepare themselves, Tera Sinube briefly lectured the children again—reminding them of the practicalities of the assignment so as not allow the excitement cloud their senses. While waiting, the little girl surveyed the stands above them, she angled her head where she spotted the Togrutas together and searched for the one with the particular montral pattern.

There you are… Jidné thought, fixating her eyes on the younger-looking Togruta.

Nomara sensed Jidné’s gaze piercing her, she slightly craned her head to the side where the girl and boy sat and waited. Despite their distance from one another, the Togruta flashed a small smile as her eyes met with the girl’s once more.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (15)

Chapter 15: Forged Bonds | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: Prepare yourselves for some wholesome Master and Apprentice fluff~ UWU

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @justtinfoley​ @berenilion​ @stellar-trinity​ @peterwandaparker​ @calgasm​ @queen-destenie​ @cal-jestis​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @calsponchoemporium​ @fallenjedii​ @sweeetteaa​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags for this chapter: Initiate Trials, Apprentice Tournament, Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta! Fem OC, Force Bond, Master and Apprentice, Youngling! Jidné

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 | Previous: Part 14 | Next: Part 16 | Masterlist

15 of ?

25 BBY

Nomara afforded a whole day to meditate in the designated chambers within the temple. Lately, she has been having visions, though indistinct, and she could hear sounds but can’t completely understood what they’re saying. However, they weren’t negative feelings and yet they still intrigued her—motivating her to pursue the reality of these visions until they’re as clear as the things she sees with her naked eye.

Master Loriq joined her, settling himself on the seat across hers. He brought his legs up on the cushion and crossed them together, he sat with a venerable poise that made him appear respectable and noble. Despite his nearly-silent entrance, Nomara continued to meditate unable to acknowledge the man who went into the room; her former master found a serene expression on her face—remaining very still and relaxed, the only movement he caught was the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes.

Not meaning to interrupt, Loriq sensed the conclusion of the young Togruta’s meditation.

“Your thoughts dwell on the child, Nomara,” he uttered out of the blue.

“Frankly, because of the promise I guaranteed to her mother, Master. There is also another thing,” her response caused the older Jedi to shift in his seat, leaning an inch forward to listen closely. “It’s likely that her strong connection with the Force factors to it, but in a way I can’t really explain… Perhaps, to simply put it, I feel like I am the only one fully aware of her capability and potential as a Jedi.”

The old master gave himself a moment to ponder on this. He slightly slouched, propping his elbow atop his lap as he rubbed his bearded chin.

He smacked his lips, “The Force bridged your and Jidné’s energies, perhaps it began the moment you discovered her.”

This response caused Nomara’s head to slightly bob sideways and her eyebrows pulled with a hybrid of confusion and fascination.

“But Master Yoda said attachments are forbidden,” Nomara counter-argued.

“The Force linking you and child together is an attachment in a certain point of view, but not in the exact same definition the Jedi Masters in the Council believe in—the kind that they forbid. I wouldn’t deny the ways of the Force intervening with any occurrence at all, I’d like to think it is its way of communicating to us without the need of words.”

“If you look at it that way, Master, that kind of does make sense. Just a bit too much to wrap my head around it,”

The old master chuckled at the comment of his apprentice, she is still young and has a long way to go—both as a Jedi and a Seeker, he hoped that her post as such would allow her to see things in various perspectives.

“Nomara, if we sever ourselves from our feelings—whether towards ourselves or others—what does that make us then? The living Force is all about connecting those around you. It may be difficult to comprehend today, but you will soon. That is something the Jedi are lacking in virtue right now.”

“You’re lucky you’re confiding this only to me, Master Yoda and Master Windu would strongly disagree with you,” the Togruta meant that as a half-joke to which Master Caius received positively and agreed with.

“Even Master Qui Gon thinks likewise. If I could name all the Jedi who think similarly like he and I, perhaps the count could only fit within my one hand,” said Master Caius spoke in a dismal tone, somewhat hoping that there were more who wouldn’t dismiss his perspective as odd and “not the Jedi way” as some called it.

“I hope to become as open and wise about the Force as you are, Master,” Nomara consoled.

Loriq quickly zones out of his somber trance and then places his hand atop his apprentice’s shoulder with such affirmation, quickly squeezing it as they both shared small, sober smiles at one another. He excuses himself and prepares to leave the room in Nomara’s solitude.

“Master, another query,”

The Togruta stopped the man from getting closer to the door. Master Caius angles his entire body to face his apprentice.

“What is it, Nomara?”

Nomara had the words piling at the tip of her tongue already, she thought it was a bold question, and so she took a deep breath before speaking it out.

“If I were to become a mentor…” she trailed. “I hope to be as good as you.”

Her words intrigued the master, but it warmed him as well. He sensed that she yearned affirmation when she said those words. The old master had an inkling of her motive between the lines of her sentence, not once did he shun her for her ambitions or aspirations, in fact, he supported and encouraged her greatly—something that he found nearly absent amongst the Jedi.

“Worry not, Nomara, I believe you are more than ready than you think,” and with that, Master Caius gave a slow yet curt bow at the Togruta before departing the meditation chamber.

During one of the Initiates’ Training, Yoda personally visited the stands and observed the children. Jidné in particular seemed to have shown great potential—she was both athletic and nimble, her lack of brute strength against the bigger children were compensated for her dexterity.

Her performance has impressed the mentors, but one of her most prominent traits is her innate impulse to help those in need. Nomara spotted Jidné helping her two friends, Brese and Leane, in the middle of a practical application phase of the lesson.

“Bend your knees a little like this, Leane, that way there’s more balance for you!” Jidné coached.

“So…” Leane mimicked Jidné’s posture, lightsaber in hand. “L-Like this?”

“That’s it! You got it!” the girl squealed and quickly resumed her own stance.

“Kinda makes it less likely for me to fall off!” Brese added, Jidné agreed to the young Nautolan boy and then passed that knowledge to Leane.

The three younglings then faced their individual training spheres. They managed to block and deflect the non-lethal yet stinging blasts of the hovering balls, the three of them celebrated briefly but Master Yoda—who was today’s proctor—decided to challenge the children. With one hand, he summoned a number of large helmets that were too big for the younglings’ heads. Using the Force, each and every helmet was worn on their heads by Master Yoda’s whim.

“How are we gonna see the targets?!” Brese exclaimed openly, speaking for everyone in the room.

“The Force will guide you! Your surroundings, it connects you to, hmm.”

There wasn’t exactly any room for argument there. The younglings prepared themselves, the once tight and confident grips around their sabers became shaky and clammy—their self-esteem was left in the dark when the visors came down.

Some of them managed to deflect the shots, but only for a few times or so until they were stung in the arm, shoulder, or leg. The others never resumed the proper stances anymore, they simply stood erect while waving their lightsabers in the direction of the training drones. Jidné, on the other hand, buckled herself slightly—she was still unsure on where the drone was going in front of her, sometimes her saber doesn’t even go in the same direction as the drone does, but she remained focused.

In the last minute, she was able to deflect one shot. The drone zoomed to its upper left, Jidné turned her head to that direction—despite being virtually blind—and waved her saber around, antsy for more shots to deflect. It was a bit of a stretch, but she hoped she’d be given a barrage of it—that’s simply her being overly-excited with the thrill of success.

“Ow!”

Jidné’s clean streak of four blocks was cut by the fifth shot stinging her shoulder. Nomara—along with the other Jedi visiting the stands—examined Jidné’s demonstration. The whole time, the Togruta was stricken with the child’s progress over time. The youngling seems to have honed her lightsaber skills, even though they’re most probably still learning Form I: Shii-Cho.

At that moment, Nomara Anesh has fully made up her mind.

—–

24 BBY

The most opportune time for Nomara to speak up has come.

She waited outside the Council’s door, patient and impatiently at the same time. The longer she stood by the door, the more anxious she became. She rubbed her clammy hands together until the warmth fizzled out the jolting nerves underneath her skin.

The hiss of the door startled her, no one was there to greet her in, the door opening by itself gestured her to come in the Council Chambers. Nomara had only gotten a few paces into the chamber, from there she found all of the masters in their respective seats, her eyes quickly surveyed and named them mentally one by one.

She put herself in the center of the room. All of the masters gave either a piercing glance or an inquisitive, gentle one—Masters Aayla Secura, Shaak Ti, Plo Koon, and Yaddle to name a few, were the latter.

“Seeker Anesh,” initiated Mace Windu, a quick gesture of the hand served as his greeting.

She bowed to return the acknowledgement before speaking her piece.

The green, sage Jedi Master slowly lifted his eyelids and then angled his head up to acknowledge Nomara’s presence—even though he already has when she stepped into the room.

“A request?” Yoda inquired.

Nomara shakes away the non-existent anxiety that the masters’ gazes inflicted on her as she stands at the very center of the council chamber, she hugged herself with her arms tightly underneath her sleeves—mentally rehearsing how she’s going to begin her speech.

“I wish to train the youngling I discovered,”

The Jedi’s long, pointed ears pricked up.

“Little Jidné Sheedra, hmm?”

Nomara nodded in reply.

All of the Council members knew that it was Nomara who brought Jidné into the Temple, but only a handful of them were aware of the young Togruta’s watchful eye over the youngling—unbeknownst to them, this is Nomara filling in her end of the promise.

“This is most unusual,” Ki-Adi-Mundi commented amidst the silence. “Normally, younglings are not assigned to a master until they finish the final phase of their training.”

“Jidné has not yet completed the Initiate Trials,” Windu interjected. “She and her batch will have yet to undergo the Apprentice Tournament in a month’s time.”

“Yes, Master Windu, I am aware,”

“Pursuing to train the child to become your Padawan learner…” Yoda trailed off. “Your Seeker position, you must give.”

“I understand and I have come to terms with myself on that subject,” Nomara’s voice firmed. “I am willing to relinquish my position as a Jedi Seeker, in exchange of me being allowed to become Jidné Sheedra’s mentor if she passes the Initiate Trials.”

“I sense that there is a much deeper reason within your request, young Anesh,” Plo Koon politely adds, leaning away from the backrest of his seat.

Nomara felt the need to finally disclose the promise she made to Tymara. In the middle of her piece, she blinked fast many times, coming upon a realization—stemming from that one promise, she and Jidné had already forged a bond. In the exact second when Nomara promised the mother that her daughter will be taken care of it, the Force has already molded and sealed their link. The other masters sensed the young Togruta’s conviction and commended her for it. The masters noticed her trail off and then pick herself up and her words.

They deliberate on the spot with mere glances amongst one another. Nomara hung her head low while keeping her eyes on the masters speaking with their eyes. It didn’t take long for them to come to a decision.

“Very well,”

Nomara’s head perked up from Mace Windu’s two simple words.

“Jidné Sheedra is to be your Padawan if she passes the Apprentice Tournament,”

Nomara is immensely elated. She couldn’t contain her excitement, the least she can do to hold herself is bite her lip. She struggled to calm and recompose herself, when she did—she thanked the Council as a whole, bowing to them ceaselessly before departing the room.

As soon as the young Togruta was out of the room, the masters exchanged looks once again. They’re intrigued by the connection manifesting within Nomara and Jidné, even if they haven’t fully interacted with one another quite closely.

One month seems to have passed by so quickly.

Jidné, Brese, Leane, and the other younglings eagerly waited for this day. But now that the time has come, they’re not sure if what they’re feeling is uncontainable excitement or nerve-racking anxiety or a mix of both.

“You guys ever ready?” Brese in the middle asked his two friends.

“Well, kinda…” Jidné shrugged her shoulders.

“My hands are sweaty!” Leane grumbled.

For the first time in these younglings’ lives, it’s only this day when they’ve seen the stands to be filled to the brim. Looking back to their training days, the number could only fit within each of their own two hands; now, there seems to be no space left between one Jedi to the other.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this…?” Leane whimpered.

Jidné rests her hand on her friend’s shoulder, consoling her, “Don’t worry, Leane. We’ll make it—the three of us.”

By rote, a flock of thirty-two younglings shall be pitted against one another in pairs. Prior to the day of the tournament, the children were already briefed on the rules and how it will go; one day before the tournament itself, they already know who they’re dueling with.

They were also forewarned that the masters will be observing them, the coaches did their best in quelling the pre-tournament anxiety that they’ve borne into the younglings’ heads. Although fazed and ridden with anxiety—so much so that she couldn’t properly grip her saber—Jidné mentally coaxed herself and simply do what she keeps doing, she believed that such a mindset has taken her far.

I won’t let myself falter on the most important day of them all! She proclaimed, staring at the silver finish of her saber.

The flock of younglings were arranged in a column and split into two upon their entry to the arena, they marched in synchronization, lining up the border of the floor. Tera Sinube and Master Yoda stood at the center to give their opening remarks albeit a brief one; when the two old masters stepped away and stood under the shade of the stands—that was the first pair’s cue to come forward.

It was Brese against a green Twi’lek boy. The Nautolan boy capitalized on his innate nimbleness during the battle and keeping mind of Jidné’s own tips during their practical lessons—which he and Leane found greatly helpful.

A duel would normally last less than half an hour, depending on the caliber of both children. This is the only time the younglings would go all out with everything they’ve learned. Five pairs later, it was Leane against another human girl—both of them sensed one another’s anxiety, but eventually got into the thrill of the action. Green sabers clashed against one another, shining bright light around the arena as one parries the other—while not admittedly as strong as the bigger children, Leane was flexible and lithe like Brese, she was able to dodge and make a quick follow-up attack seconds after her evasion.

Jidné was only able to quell her nervousness by quietly supporting her friends from where she stood. Flashing secret smiles at them when they look her way.

“That child has an innate ability to put people at ease,” Loriq thought out loud, exclusively within Nomara’s earshot.

Nomara smiled, reminiscing the moments where Jidné makes everyone smile all too easily, beginning from the moment where she was staying over in their house in Eshyn.

“Yes, I think so too,” she concurred.

Now it was Jidné’s turn. Paz was standing beside her, the tall blond boy cheered her on, whispering “Good luck!” to her before she’d step forward. She beamed a smile and whispered back a quick “Thanks!” and then patted her saber dangling by her belt.

Jidné is pitted against a Mirialan boy. As per tradition, they bowed at one another upon stepping into the center, afterwards they take a step back to draw their sabers. The Mirialan’s green saber contrasted heavily with Jidné’s purple saber. The opponent was indeed nimble, at par with Jidné’s dexterity, but what the girl did next surprised everyone.

This was the very first time Jidné demonstrated her Force Shroud, although she’s still in the middle of refining it herself.

Regardless, she was able to render herself almost invisible—the lights and the gray walls helped her blend in, leaving a trail of visible Force waves lingering in the air. The Mirialan boy’ frenzied eyes did little to aid him in spotting his opponent, only at the last minute did he sense the girl from behind him and deflected her attack, she re-materialized when their sabers met. It was flimsy on his end, but struggled to avoid fumbling.

They continued to trade strikes one after the other, Jidné read her opponent taking on the rather aggressive approach with little to no defensiveness, thus she took advantage of her dexterity and evaded the charging attacks of the Mirialan boy. Whenever he would deliver a hail of attacks at her, Jidné deflected them with clean forms and coordinated footwork. Having her purple saber’s tip hovering just mere inches in front of the boy’s nose, that concluded her duel. The two younglings flashed an impressed grin at one another before doing the customary bow post-fight.

“Your youngling shows a lot of promise,” Loriq commented. “Her skill with the Force is impressive as well, despite being a little rough around the edges.”

The remainders of the tournament proceeded down to the very last pair. When the event concluded, the masters dispersed and conversed with one another in murmurs, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands as they judge the younglings who have caught their eye.

The younglings who were done with their turn were instructed to retire to the Initiates’ dormitory to rest. Brese and Leane waited for Jidné’s duel to end before going together which has become a joint habit of theirs.

“You were great, Jidné! I bet a lot of masters are gonna come asking you to be their Padawan!” Brese beamed.

“I think you and Leane were pretty great too!” Jidné clapped Leane’s and Brese’s shoulders with her two hands. For her next few sentences, she’s become more animated as they walked along the halls. Her upbeat attitude made the two children laugh, practically washing away their anxieties from earlier.

“The way you two went—POW! And then Leane went—WOOSH!! Aww, it was awesome! No doubt about it, you two, I think we did a great job in impressing the masters!”

Jidné added a comical kick and punched the air in the uppercut to visualize what she meant. Her post-fight energy doesn’t seem to be running out any time soon.

“I’m glad you think our training will pay off, Jidné! It kinda makes me feel better about myself,” Leane chuckled gleefully, the heaviness that anchored in her stomach melted away after being infected with Jidné’s cheerfulness.

Jidné hooked Leane’s neck with her arm, nudging her closer until they’re cheek-to-cheek, “Aw come on, Leane, you’re such a worrywart! How many times do I have to tell you you’re great? Though I don’t mind saying it over and over!”

The next morning, Jidné was summoned to one of the lecture chambers, a warden has personally come to their room to call her. She and Leane exchanged puzzled glances but eventually she followed the servant out of their room.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” Jidné asked when she walked up to the servant.

The servant chuckled, amused and endeared, “No, Jidné. But you’ll find out soon enough. Run along now.”

Jidné turned behind her, to her friend Leane, and waved at her before disappearing into the grand halls of the Temple. The girl navigated her way to the turbolift leading to the wing where the lecture halls are located. She eventually reached that specific room the servant had told her, with the push of a button the door retracted into its frame—revealing Master Yoda standing with a tall Togruta. Jidné recognized the second Jedi, it was the one who always watched at the stands, she recalled that this Jedi was also watching during the tournament last night.

The girl entered the room and stepped closer to the pair of Jedi Masters.

“I… I was told to come here by one of the wardens,”

“Indeed, you were, Jidné,” Master Yoda waddled towards the child, pegging the floor with his cane as he walked.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?”

The green, ancient Jedi chuckled delightfully, not intending to dismiss the child’s worry but rather uplift her spirit.

“Sought you, a master has; a Padawan, you are to be,”

The child’s eyes lit up, her heart skipped a beat, and her lips parted. Did her ears deceive her? No, she’s sure she’s heard it correctly.

The Togruta walked up to Yoda’s side, facing Jidné as well. She flashed a gentle, warm smile upon seeing the twinkle over the gloss of the child’s dark, soulful eyes.

“Hello, Jidné,”

“Hello,” she cooed.

“My name is Nomara Anesh, it’s nice to meet you…” Nomara stifled a chuckle. “Again.”

Jidné’s smile relaxed a bit and she bobbed her head to the side, “Eh? Again?”

Nomara smiled and knelt to the little girl’s height.

“I was the Jedi who found you and brought you here,”

The youngling’s grin reappeared, stretching from ear-to-ear, and the glint in her eyes shone twice as bright as the first one. The girl’s energy contrasted with her new master’s calm, warm, and kind demeanor.

“Really!? You did?!”

“That’s right,”

“That’s amazing!!” the girl leaped and squealed, butterflies filled her stomach so much that she could feel them coming out of her throat any moment now. “It’s strange though—but in a good way—that you’ve always felt familiar to me. But now that you’ve told me you’re the one who brought me here, that explains it… LIKE A WHOLE LOT!”

Jidné threw her arms up to emphasize her last words, her enthusiasm delighted Nomara; but when she realized that she’s behaving a bit too excitedly, she straightened herself up in the presence of Master Yoda and cleared her throat.

“Truly wonderful and pure her heart is,” Yoda commented, gesturing the girl to be at ease as there’s no need for such formality.

“Are you up for the task as my apprentice, Jidné?”

“Am I ever?!”

Nomara smiled at the child’s optimism. Deep inside her, she made a promise to herself to protect Jidné—not out of the obligation of a promise, but out of genuine love and care for the girl. Perhaps watching over her took her some time to realize, but it’s better late than never.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (12)

Chapter 12: Facing Thine Demons | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: There was a tiny technical error on my end. Was about to save the draft with the new touches until it ended up posting it (surprised pikachu meme here) and so I put it on private first. But now it’s ready! ^^ Sorry if I have confused those of you who opened the shortcut link from Chapter 11 and got a blank webpage or that it was simply gone... Don’t worry, it’s here now!

Also tagging: @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​​ @berenilion​​ @stellar-trinity​​ @justtinfoley​​ @peterwandaparker​​ @cal-jestis​​ @superwarsofthrones​​ @queen-destenie​​ @fallenjedii​​ @sweeetteaa​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @calgasm​​ @calsponchoemporium​​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags: Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta, Force Vision, Dark Force Vision

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 | Previous: Part 11 | Next: Part 13 | Masterlist

12 of ?

Jidné fixed herself a cup while staring intently at the Holocron shard. She recalled Cal’s words from yesterday, and right after that, Darth Vader’s specifications of the contract followed. It frustrated her that it was the thing that kept her awake way into the wee hours until it had mentally exhausted her to sleep.

Her mind concocted an endless list of assumptions, theories, and scenarios that she forgot to take a sip from her cup to slow herself down. The images replayed to no end, some of them were interjections of her own memories from the day of the Jedi Purge; her breath shuddered, for no matter how many times she blinked them away, the memories and the moments that are yet to be—from her meditation before and the premonitions now—flashed behind her eyes. The sounds she imagined were starting to sound too surreal, covering her ears to shut them out proved futile.

Jidné’s head shot up, interrupted by her droid barging in with a series of panicking chirps.

“Who is it, ID-3?”

“Bee… Beep, trill,” the droid answered rather nervously, the tone of his chirps caused Jidné’s eyebrows to pull together.

Jidné jogged away from the galley and headed to the lounge—she asks ID-3 to relay the transmission to the holotable’s receiver and the droid promptly obeyed, twisting his connector in the port left and right until the transfer became successful.

The projection of Darth Vader from the waist up crackled into existence at the center of the holoprojector. Jidné approached the holotable, the projection towered a few feet above her that she kept her head tilted up and stood at a distance away from the table.

“Lord Vader,” she greeted with the same steely tone of voice she used on the dark lord. “How untimely of you to drop by.”

“I require a report of your progress, Sheedra,”

Jidné clenched her jaw.

“Did you find the boy?”

Her shoulders heaved, “Yes. I’ve found him in hiding… though he’s not aware of me yet.”

“And what of the Holocron?”

Jidné played dumb—a risky move for a young Jedi who’s also in hiding—and pulled her eyebrows together.

“Is that the vital thing you seek of him?”

“Yes. Does he still have it?”

The bounty hunter shakes her head in earnest, “I haven’t… seen him hold it yet. Obviously, he’s kept it in his ship for safekeeping.”

The longer this conversation went, the more cemented her assumptions became.

“My Inquisitors have already failed in recovering that Holocron from the Jedi,” he raised his finger in her face, regardless if it was via hologram. “Do not fail me like they did, Sheedra.”

He hissed at the utterance of her surname, Jidné could visualize the clenching of Vader’s teeth through that mask’s mouthpiece when he did. The hint wasn’t easy to miss, especially with that steady yet foreboding tone; she could’ve sworn she felt the interior of her ship rattle upon the intensity of the dark lord’s words.

Jidné stood her ground and steeled her voice, not tolerating being told what to do in her own turf and on her own expertise. She almost raised her voice back in an attempt to dominate his volume.

“With all due respect, m’lord, don’t ever tell me how to do my job.”

Taken aback by the child’s words, Darth Vader’s broad shoulders evidently eased, as the resolution of the hologram blurred and cracked with static in synch with his breathing. He leaned forward, closer to the lens of his holoprojector, he raised his finger at her again.

“You are fortunate it is I who employed you. Consider this your warning, child. The Emperor would not have forgiven this as I did.”

Without needing a response from her, Vader ended the transmission on his end and the projection of the girl dissolved into nothingness. He returned into the silent solitude of his meditation chamber, a black shell that hid him away and concealed his true self from everyone else.

A long exhale wafted through the mouthpiece of his mask as he leaned back against the seat of his chamber. His calm mechanical breathing ricocheted in the organic walls of his sanctum. He recalled the conversation with the bounty hunter, he sensed something within the girl and the delivery of her words—he gave himself the benefit of the doubt and deduced it was the usual anxiety one would have when reporting to him, afraid that they might step into the wrong foot and have to elaborate themselves.

“I sense a disturbance in the Force… and in that child.” He purred, his leather between his gloved fingers squeaked as he gripped on the armrests of his sanctuary’s throne.

Robotic limbs from the ceiling whirred and lowered towards his head, its pincers gingerly clamped at the hem of his helmet, with a single click of the inner mechanism the limbs carefully took off the layers of his mask one by one. With the final layer was removed, light is shed upon the true face of Vader: sickly, calloused skin that aged as it healed from fatal burns, a wrinkled bag of skin that crumpled whenever he blinked his sunken, sorrowful eyes, and a rupture on the top of his head ran from one point to the other.

Another set of robot limbs appeared, vials of Bacta and syringes were fixed on where their pincers ought to be. In his first few years of getting used to this armor—now his new body—the medical procedure was a form of self-pity and pain, though it fueled his connection with the Dark Side, making him stronger and more powerful the way the Emperor intended him to be.

Vader afforded a moment to breathe before commanding the robotic claws to fit his helmet back on. The chipped, coarse leather glove ran across his creased forehead. He yearned for a moment of peace, a moment to meditate, but the demons of his past intruded his sanctum as they please, ravaging his supposedly rock-solid conscience as sturdy as the armor where his life clings onto constantly. When he deemed the activity pointless, he slammed a button—he waited for a few minutes and heard the main door of his room hiss open. Another press of a button and his meditation chamber parted open.

“What is thy bidding, my master?” a female Twi’lek Inquisitor, with skin as crimson as blood and her blade, inquired upon her entrance, kneeling in front of Vader with the greatest reverence.

——————————————————–

Jidné caught her breath after the transmission, clutching her chest did little to relax her wild heart. She fumbled her way towards the booth seat in the lounge, she attempted to relax—she clapped her hand against her forehead, slouched her back against the sofa while trying to realign her thoughts.

The beeping of the homing beacon caught her attention, it sat idly atop the center table. Using the Force, Jidné reached for it, she gawked at it resting at the center of her palm and she was reminded of her duty, but the feelings that has been forged by her connection with Cal conflicted her greatly.

“Trill…?”

“I don’t want him to get hurt, ID-3,”

Jidné closed her fist with the beacon still in her hand, she and ID-3 looked at one another for a brief moment—as if wordlessly coming to an agreement—the girl’s fist tightened, inhaled deeply that it puffed her chest, she turned her hand sideways and opened her fingers to let the blue circular device fall to the floor…

The sole of her boot stopped the beacon from rolling away, then with all her strength, Jidné crushed the device beneath her feet—reducing it into shards of glass and metal.

She’s seen enough. She’s understood enough.

“I won’t let them hurt him,”

The other end of the beacon is still attached to the Mantis, but she made it a point to get it and destroy it the same way before Cal finds out. She donned a maroon jacket and a black cowl before heading out of the Scarab, she beckoned ID-3 to come along and the droid hovered towards her shoulders to perch himself there.

Jidné found a herd of Q’aval in the desert not far from the water hole, imitating the same approach as Cal did yesterday, she tamed one and mounted it. The animal reared as Jidné spurred the side of its belly with a gentle kick of her boot, clouds of smoke fluttered behind its heels as it stamped through the badlands and towards the forest, foam frothed at the rim of its mouth. She dismounted the Q’aval before it even came to a full stop, she sprinted towards the Mantis; she recomposed herself until Cere greeted her at the door.

“Jidné? What a pleasant surprise for you to come by,”

“Hi Cere, is Cal here?”

“No, actually he went to Diitana with Greez—he finally got to tour the captain at the marketplace—but I bet they’re just about finished with those errands,”

“Oh? How nice of him,”

“You can wait for him inside,” invited Cere.

“Sure, just let me… catch my breath,”

Cere excused herself and went back inside, Jidné ran to the stern of the Mantis where she had shot the homing beacon during their chase. The device ceased to blink or beep, it died out the same time Jidné destroyers hers. She tore it off clean from the exterior and stamped her boot on it numerous times, she dug the soil with her shoe and buried the shards in the tiny crater she made.

It was peaceful in the clearing—nothing but wind and chirping songbirds hidden amongst the trees. Jidné situated herself atop a boulder a few meters away from the ship, in an attempt to meditate while waiting for Cal. It has been a while since she did so and she wanted to see how she fared lately.

Finding solace in the clearing, she meditated and relearned her master’s lessons at the same time; recalling the words of Master Anesh from the vision she had a couple of days ago. Little by little, the girl afforded to be proud of herself as the meditations become more tranquil and resonant.

What was initially experimental, and then turned out to be quite effective: she dared to reach out to the Force and allowed to let whatever thoughts flow within her—there was laughter and warmth, comfort and compassion, images of Master Anesh smiling, and the gleam of Cal’s clear, green eyes that’s burned into her mind all too well.

“That actually felt nice…” she murmured upon opening her eyes. She gazed at her hands, then wiggled her fingers as she examined them as if the sensations touched her in reality.

She thought hours have passed, when in fact it has only been minutes. However, the good feelings were immediately washed away when her Q’aval suddenly began to neigh nervously and clopped its hooves in place.

“Hey, what’s wrong, old timer? You smell something?”

The animal neighed again, then she heard the rustling of the bushes that lined the clearing. Jidné’s instincts went on high alert, she cautiously hopped down from the boulder as she peered through the dim denseness of the forest beyond.

“Who’s there?”

A cacophony of insects hissing and chirping replied her, she didn’t take that for an answer. She senses something else than just insects and birds.

Her hand subtly wandered to her saber; with her rifle still out of commission, she had been leaning into her saber more, and she actually preferred it to the ballistic weapon. She unclipped the hilt from her belt as quietly and slowly as she can. A narrow path connected the Mantis’s spot to another open space of the forest, something about it lured Jidné in, but she had sensed a trap—for Force’s sake, she’s a bounty hunter! She knew this strategy all too well; whoever the enemy was, they wanted to her stray from the Mantis, they wanted to single her out.

Something’s definitely not right. She thought while she prowled, saber in hand and ready to ignite.

Her attempt to use Force Shroud on herself was hindered when her ears pricked up at the sound of a pin clinking. A flashbomb hissed upon the removal of the pin and rolled to Jidné’s feet. Luckily, she had the sharp reflex to kick it back to the thrower.

She shielded her eyes with her arm but was jumped by the bounty hunter who wielded a rifle with a vibroblade bayonet, she was able to deflect the attack with her saber; upon closer look, she recognized the enemy—it was the same bounty hunter who chased Cal in Diitana, the goon named Fazer.

“Where’s your boyfriend, girlie!?” the male hunter spat through his cloth mask.

“Where’s yours, scum?!”

If there’s one thing Jidné could never go wrong about the Haxion Brood—it’s that they always travel in pairs.

“Look at that, she’s got a laser sword too!” the HURID droid stomped his way into the picture, outnumbering Jidné two to one.

“So glad you could join us!” Jidné blurted and pushed the hunter away to stance herself.

She deflected the HURID droid’s barrage of blasts from its gauntlet gun in a fluid, spiraling motion of her saber. A third one had appeared from the trees, another male human hunter with a jetpack. He jumped on her, she evaded it too little too late thus she staggered for a brief second before using the Force to push her assailant away.

All three enemies circled her in the center of the clearing, like vultures to a carrion.

“We got you outnumbered, ye cunt! Sorc is gonna pay us a shitton of money for yer head!” Jetpack barked.

Sorc!?

“That son of a bitch!!”

Jidné’s hard feelings didn’t root from the fact that she once worked for Sorc—despite their stale work dynamic—and discovered now that he’s put a price on her head; what enraged her is that she had become a target herself in her own organization—though it’s highly likely that he had bribed someone, with Baz being a probable candidate, or had a mole in the Guild. Sorc had actively broken a law in the Guild and whoever else was in connivance. Whatever the reason, she needed to finish these three goons.

The skirmish got intense pretty quickly. It was just Jidné alone against three; her first target was the hunter with the jetpack—she immediately put him out of work when she deflected a blast and redirected it to the exhaust hatch of the jetpack, instantly setting it on fire. All eyes—both Haxion and Jidné—were glued to the poor sod who’s spinning out of control, perfectly incapable of escaping his jetpack until he blew up with it upon impact of a tree trunk.

“Alright, your attention here!” Jidné beckoned, spinning her saber and positioning herself in a beginning stance.

The HURID was the most aggressive attacker among the two remaining. Both of them were troublesome in their own special way—Fazer kept himself at a safe distance while loading his gun, to ruin his strategy, Jidné moved a lot: taking advantage of the trees, scaling them and perching on their branches, and finally utilizing her Force Shroud in battle. She masked herself using the Force; to the weak-minded eye, it would appear that she disappeared out of plain sight and into thin air.

“Where’s the little cunt!?” Fazer roared.

The hulking droid and the human hunter spun around in place, in search of their nimble target.

“If you’re such a brave lil’ girl, why don’t ye come out!?” Fazer taunted.

Jidné saw that the HURID droid standing directly below the branch she’s perched on, she ignited her saber and descended upon the walking block of metal from the heavens, driving her saber into its central processing core with her purple lightsaber.

“Now, it’s just you and me, Fazer,”

“You know me, don’tcha, little birdie?”

“You’re one of Sorc’s favorites, I figured he’d send you. Shall we put that to the test?”

“Don’t make me laugh, kid!”

In a deadpan snark, the girl clapped back, “I’ve always had a dry sense of humor.”

Jidné had taunted Fazer into laying down his shield, telling him to face her like a true fighter with the remaining ounce of a crook’s honor in him; the enemy hunter humored the girl and relinquished his foldable shield, leaving himself with only his bayonet rifle.

Tiny, blue cracks of electricity coursed along the blade of the bayonet and instantaneously died out as soon as it came into contact with the saber’s beam. Jidné held fast, the soles of her boots were practically buried into the dirt as she kept her stance, her unwavering grip secured her hilt as she shifted all her weight in blocking Fazer’s blade.

“You can’t win, girl!! I’ll have your head rolling over Sorc’s table!” grunted Fazer.

Collecting all her might and transferring it all on her deflection, she took a big, deep breath as the purple gleam shone over the gloss of her dark, willful eyes.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!”

She pushed Fazer away, kicked him the hardest in the abdomen to stagger him and afford a window of opportunity to cut him down. With the strength fueled by adrenaline, she struck down the bounty hunter and silence returned to the forest…

Or so she thought.

More rustling among the bushes alarmed her, she brandished her saber securely, prepared for a stance if necessary. The noises persisted and prompted her to follow it, instead of waiting for it to jump on her. Blinded by the anger that she mistook for the thrill of the action, she dashed mindlessly through the forest, following the sound.

Meanwhile, Cal had returned to the Mantis’s clearing and spotted a Q’aval. He approached it and started bobbing its head to its forward direction while neighing fervently.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay! What’s wrong?”

Cal held the animal’s muzzle, petting it with his one hand while the other cupped its large cheek. The Q’aval kept nodding at the direction of the clearing despite being calmed down, the redheaded Jedi finally got the hint as he turned his head to the path.

He withdrew from the animal, tugged his saber off of his belt, and cautiously prowled into the neighboring clearing with peeled eyes. When the boy sensed nothing, he investigated the area and discovered the bodies of the three Haxion Brood hunters sprawled across the clearing; he got closer and found lightsaber cuts across their bodies—except for the third one who had majority of his body charred from the explosion of his jetpack, nonetheless, Cal recognized the handiwork.

“Beee…!” BD-1 chirped and pointed at something with his entire body.

Lying just a few inches away from Fazer’s body were bright, turquoise beads threaded into two separate strands. Cal knelt down and examined it, he hesitated to take it at first but eventually scooped it up with one hand, he’s seen this trinket more than once and didn’t need to guess who the owner is.

“Jidné…” uttered Cal.

The fingers of Cal’s free hand gingerly touched the trinket—one finger for each bead—and a tunnel of light violently clouded his vision, the sharp sensation was reminiscent to being punched hard in the gut. Cal’s knees buckled as the echoes of the Force kick in. Sounds and voices that he knew all too well screeched and bounced along the walls of his skull.

“Execute Order 66…”

“Keep up with me, Jidné!”

“I’m trying, Master!”

“The Jedi and the little girl are here! Don’t let them escape!!!”

The barrage of blaster fire nearly deafened Cal, he finally melted to the forest floor; his hand gripped around the beads, his consciousness battled with its own demon—a part of him wanted to let go, but the other kept his fist shut, as if gripping it tightly to stop him from opening his hand, and so the waking nightmares persisted in his mind.

“This way, child! Come on!”

“Coming, Master!”

“Get behind me, little one!”

“Blast her!!”

“NOOOOOOOO….!!!!”

“Jidné… RUN…!”

——————————————————–

Jidné sprang out of the woods and into a lone waterfall’s clearing, different from the one where she once bathed and smaller in comparison. She panted and arched her back, her hands holding onto her knees as she gasped for air, finally allowing her body to relax. Jidné scanned the place and realized that she has no memory of the place, it was an entirely new area that she has gotten herself lost in.

Strange, she thought as she stepped further into this unfamiliar spot in the forest; she gawked quizzically at the sky as she walked, the trees’ canopy didn’t cover up the sun and yet the weather appeared to be overcast, as if a storm is brewing above—even though it was significantly sunny when she came here.

“Jidné…”

The girl’s head jerked to the direction of the voice. At first she found nobody around, but her eyes continued to survey the area with great eagerness and curiosity. The call of her name brought her closer to the pool, oddly enough, the rippling of the water was louder than the end of the waterfall meeting the basin.

Jidné stood at the fine line between land and water. A silhouette—standing tall and regal in stride—materialized, she squinted her eyes to peer through the curtain of water. The shadow became more opaque bit by bit: the tips of the montrals parted the water but not a single droplet lingered, the hem of the long robe swept the surface of the water as if it was a plane of glass flooring, and the apparition seemed almost too real.

Nomara Anesh, her master… or perhaps the shell of what she used to be.

Jidné’s knees were reduced to jelly, so much so that she staggered back in surprise upon laying eyes on the waking vision of her mentor.

“Master Anesh…” a wide-eyed Jidné shuddered.

Silence. Only a smile replied to her, but it was no smile of compassion. There was something ominous that traced the line of that smirk. Wind howled amongst the towering trees as the two women faced one another.

The apparition stepped closer until she stood at the center of the pool, ripples orbited her even though Nomara stood like a statue; Jidné was able to get a closer look—she was impressed with the apparition, for it mimicked the sage aura that her master emitted, despite being a mere manifestation borne from the nether of the Force.

The young girl shakes her head and grips onto her saber.

“No,” she snarled, attempting to harden herself in the midst of this delusion. Her thumb crunches the switch of her saber. “You’re not her.”

The ghost of Nomara Anesh rebuked the girl’s claim in the form of igniting her own saber. An indigo blade emitted out of the elegant silver hilt. The Togruta slowly walked up to her as they spoke.

“What makes you so sure? Have you allowed your doubts to cloud your feelings?”

Jidné detected the difference of this apparition’s tone of voice compared to the real thing; this one sounded emotionless and strict altogether. The apprentice couldn’t find the same warmth the original has within this ghost. The compassion and kindness that the real Nomara Anesh had, the traits that the girl missed sorely and dearly, was completely non-existent.

“No, I haven’t…”

“Well then, we won’t find much outcome in words, will we?”

That compassion Jidné desperately searched in that walking manifestation of Nomara was replaced with a demanding, arrogant façade—it’s as if she’s facing a different person with the perfect identical copy of her late master’s body.

Jidné itched to swing her saber at this ghost so much that she didn’t realize she had stepped onto the water, she paused and looked down on her feet. The water’s surface remained solid to stand on but retained its liquid aspects like the ripples and droplets. Now in the same arena as this spirit, she circled along the edge while her eyes fixated on the otherworldly entity. She can’t put her reason into words, it was more of a feeling.

“You have allowed so much of the darkness to take you… that you can’t even see who you truly are,” Nomara lectured coldly.

The walking vision had provoked the child, Jidné had lost the remaining ounces of control she had within her and came charging at the Togruta. Two blades of nearly the same shade clashed and growled against one another. Nomara retained her erect, poised posture while the young Jidné had her back arched as she put all of her strength on the strike.

“Is this the resolve you’ve settled with? Is this how you honor my teachings!?” Nomara hissed, truly sounding like an unsatisfied mentor. “You have truly forgotten the ways of the Force!”

“That’s not true! You don’t know that! You are not her!!”

The young Jedi continued to send a flurry of attacks against this sentient delusion, but for every move she knew and used against the ghost, it always had a way to deny her of a strike; her anger bestowed her a false and hollow strength that bore no blows. Jidné’s body flared with a recklessness that was determined to strike down that spirit. But the next thing she knew, Nomara’s ghost stopped the Jedi girl in her tracks.

“You can’t save him—the same way you can’t save yourself from the past, the present, and even in the future. You will always run away from your fate like the weak coward that you are!”

“NO!!!”

Another clash of blades, a sphere of light formed at the center of the intercrossed beams. Something between the lines of Nomara’s words struck something within Jidné, and then she sought for the strength inside her again… but found nothing. The Togruta bore all her weight on her attack, gradually bringing down the former apprentice until she’d fumble.

“You are not the Padawan I trained!!”

Jidné struggled to push away Nomara—even for a few paces at least—to regain her composure. This time, it was the Togruta who went into the offensive. With the distance shrinking between them, Jidné paced her breathing and timed the right moment to counter.

A shockwave of the Force sourced from the collision of their sabers, it was a wave so strong that it threw Jidné meters away from their arena. The girl couldn’t pinpoint where the phenomenon originated—though it didn’t matter. She found herself tumbling back into the clearing where she had singlehandedly eradicated the Haxion Brood hunters, her head jerked in all directions to survey her bearings.

“Jidné!”

The girl jolted upon another call of her name, Cal ran up to her and slowly lifted her up.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Cal felt the immense tremor across Jidné’s entire body; puzzled, he looked at the direction of the forest where Jidné came out of and had an inkling of what just happened. He escorted her into the Mantis and offered her to a place to rest there.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (13)

Chapter 13: Strange Way of Finding Things | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: This was supposed to be a full-length flashback chapter but I looked at the word count and I just-- 😳😵😧😬 So I just decided to split it because I don’t wanna drag you guys on with more than 5000 words of a single chapter. I would’ve broken my record average word count 😜 anyway, I hope y’all are ready for the angst

Also tagging: @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @berenilion​ @justtinfoley​ @stellar-trinity​ @peterwandaparker​ @calgasm​ @queen-destenie​ @calsponchoemporium​ @cal-jestis​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @sweeetteaa​ @fallenjedii​ @superwarsofthrones​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Additional (last 2 tags count as TW): Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta Fem OC, Jedi Seeker! Fem OC, family separation, separation anxiety

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 | Previous: Part 12 | Next: Part 14 | Masterlist

13 of ?

31 BBY

ESHYN, LAU’NON SYSTEM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The clouds clear a path for the Jedi Starfighter, aboard it is the young Jedi Seeker, Nomara Anesh, one of the youngest seekers at only 34 years old.

Her aerial view of the archipelago captivated her as she flew by the land mass. The sapphire blue coastline surrounded the island, high mesas with a vast carpet of grass framed the formation while the torrential waves kissed the rigid rock faces with its ivory-white seafoam and mist.

It was simply breathtaking.

Though it saddened her that the Trade Federation has begun to press its ugly thumb into this tropical masterpiece. Prior to her visit, Nomara did her reading on the planet, its current political and economic state as well. She has always been the curious one amongst her batch—said her former master—thus resulting to her inquisitive upbringing.

“There it is, Evy,” Nomara peered through the side window of the cockpit. “Sa’Junna: where we need to be.”

She afforded another pass above the main island, searching for a safe place to land with the assistance of the astromech droid.

“Do you see anything, Evy?”

The droid, EV-65 or Evy as Nomara personally nicknamed it, chirped in excitement, equally as captivated as its Jedi owner; the droid popped out a tiny satellite from a small hatch on its dome head.

The young woman managed a smile at her droid’s happy trills, but something stirred within her as she approaches the island. The closer she got, the swirling at the pit of her stomach became stronger—though, it didn’t alarm her because she doesn’t sense anything wrong with it; nevertheless, whatever the Force was subtly telling her, it intrigued her.

“Bee-beep!!”

“Great job, Evy. Override the landing cycle now,”

“Beeep-doo!”

It took Evy a few seconds before relaying the area coordinates for a safe landing area to Nomara’s dashboard. A virtual map of the island flashed and a green blip blinked over the center section of the land mass. The Jedi followed the lead and managed to dock her ship in between the capital and a village half a mile away from each landmark. The droid remained on the ship while Nomara dismounted the vessel.

The city of Sa’Junna was developed by a civilization of old, and then later cultivated and nurtured by the past generations until the current one. Having grown and thrived for countless millennia, a great majority of the residents were humans, but other humanoids like Twi’leks and Nautolans have migrated to this idyllic sanctuary. The place appeared to have seen better days priors to the Trade Federation’s occupation.

Nomara could see the bustle of trade in the city, it wasn’t as grand as Coruscant or Naboo, but the prosperity is evident.

Upon alighting her starship, she was promptly greeted by a tall stature of a human male with a greying beard that covered half of his olive-skinned face. He gestured with open arms, welcoming the Togruta, while subtly keeping a tinge of caution in his words and actions.

Nomara bowed slowly and solemnly in greeting.

“Welcome, traveler. What is it that you seek in our already-disturbed home?”

“The exact disturbance you speak of, friend.”

The tribe leader introduced himself as Sentuk Nirmo, he governed one of the villages that networked with the main city—where most of the trade transpires. Seeing that Nomara bore better will than the Trade Federation’s emissaries, he invited her into their settlement where they could speak openly within closed walls. As they walked, Sentuk briefed Nomara of their situation.

“At first, they wanted the metal. But when they found the deeper caverns, that’s when they’ve completely sucked our mines dry! The Federation has robbed us of our own homeland.” Sentuk grieved, and then added. “They barricaded the Yishen Strait—our main trade route—from civilians and real traders. Since then, business has been slow for many of us.”

Sentuk’s voice trailed off when he noticed Nomara subtly panning her head left and right, as if searching for something. The Jedi apologized for zoning out, the tribe leader dismissed it as a fascination towards the planet as well as exhaustion—and so he invited her to their settlement. The Togruta follows the Sentuk into the village; along the way, he explains that each village has a leader which then comprises the council. With every step, the faint trace of the Force that Nomara has picked up gotten stronger.

Sentuk presented his humble home, it seems that the Federation has already left its mark in this village along with the others surrounding the capital city—Nomara looked around and found children playing out in the open, whilst weavers make baskets and rucksacks out of their looms for the hunters to store their game, other residents tend and plow their modest vegetable gardens and orchards.

“It seems so peaceful here,” Nomara’s smile faded as instantaneously as it appeared. “But I sense the distraught in these people.”

Sentuk hummed in agreement, recalling his grievance of their overall predicament. Nomara’s brows pulled together, she closed her eyes for a moment to detect that trail she’s picked up.

“There’s something else,” she mumbled so quietly that Sentuk barely heard.

The Togruta blinked her eyes open and the first thing she saw was a small girl watching the other children play—she looked like she had just learned how to stand and walk. Forgetting that she stood with the tribe leader, Nomara approached the child slowly until the girl acknowledged her with wide, quiet eyes bursting with curiosity.

She knelt down to level with the child, she offered her open palm, and without a single ounce of hesitation the toddler placed her pudgy hands on the vibrant red-skinned palm of the visitor. Their eyes met, Nomara’s heart leapt for a reason she can’t explain, her lips involuntarily curled and by impulse, her fingers folded around the soft, tender hand.

“Jidné!” a melodic voice beckoned from the cottage.

Both Nomara and the child turned to the direction of the voice, it was the mother. Nomara slowly hoisted herself back to her full height, when the mother stepped out of the doorway of their home, two more little girls followed behind her—presumably the little one’s older sisters—but they kept themselves close by the skirt of their mother, intrigued and at the same time shy of the unusual-looking visitor.

“I’m sorry, I just…” stammered the Jedi softly. “Your daughter.”

The mother flashed a friendly smile, “Yes, what about her?”

“She’s strong with the Force. For someone so little, she carries a significant amount of it within her.”

The woman immediately got the hint, she’s heard the stories, though this is the first time she’s met one in the flesh. Her eyes wandered to the waistband of the Togruta’s robes and spotted the silver hilt shimmering, dominating the neutral colors of her clothes.

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my name is Nomara Anesh,” the Jedi bowed her head briefly as soon as she uttered her own name.

“My name is Tymara Sheedra, I see you have met my little Jidné,” the woman peeked over the backside of her skirt, spotting her two other daughters, she introduced Krea and Maryn—aged eleven and eight respectively. The girls greeted the Togruta who beamed a gentle smile at them as she returned the gesture.

Nomara clarified that she was a Seeker and stated her purpose to Tymara, the Togruta’s emotions synched with the other woman’s—that friendly smile reduced into a poker face and then replaced with a blank smile.

“Um… Why don’t we talk inside? I just finished making supper,” Tymara invited the guest into her house, who politely obliged despite the tension.

The single-storey cottage was quaint, although each room was cramped and limiting to a number of persons inside. The kitchen was in the same space as the dining table—which lacked chairs and had woven cushions and mantles in its place. If one is to peek a little bit to their right, they could see the bedroom—the girls’ beds were thick-enough cushions each sitting atop a wooden frame, whilst the parents’ bed is settled on another side of the room; the only thing distinguishing the “rooms” was a wooden divider panel.

Nomara wagered this house couldn’t fit any more family members, Jidné would be the live marker of the home’s limit. She settled herself by the table—across where she sat, the three girls played in a small space that only fit them perfectly without needing to duck or crouch, the two older sisters watched with great fascination as Jidné lift a doll off the floor without touching it, Nomara watched intently along with them.

Tymara offered her a bowl of broth and bread on the side.

“I’m really sorry about our house. It’s not exactly much, isn’t it?” Tymara initiated quite apologetically, poking the bits of meat in the soup.

“I don’t mind,” Nomara awkwardly chuckled, parroting Tymara’s nervous poking before scooping up a spoonful and then bringing it into her mouth.

“What is it that you Seekers do?”

“We search the galaxy for Force-sensitive children. We bring them to the Jedi Temple in Coruscant and then train them into becoming Jedi Knights like myself.”

Tymara bit her lip and gawked emotionlessly at her food, it took her a good minute before she started to touch her food again. She spoke again, but didn’t face Nomara when she did.

“Have you come for her?”

The Jedi’s head perked to the mother, Tymara let the bottom of the spoon float above the soup—sensing her fluctuating appetite swirling together with the anxiety slowly eating away her mind; Nomara inhaled deeply, ceasing to touch her food to find the right words to say.

“Not specifically. I didn’t even know it was her until I… well, found her. The Force—or perhaps the universe—has a strange way of showing things we need to see when we least expect it, no matter how difficult it is to accept the signs.”

“And this Force… showed you to my daughter?”

“It would appear so,”

“Are you going to take her from me?”

“I wouldn’t force it,” Nomara replied somberly, as if understanding the grief of separation. In a way, she has felt that in one way or another.

There was silence, even the girls have purposefully hushed their voices and giggling to secretly listen to their conversation between the guest and their mother—even the little, two-year-old Jidné followed suit of her sisters.

“Eshyn isn’t what it used to be anymore, this was my home, and my husband’s, and our parents…” Tymara mumbled, watching her daughters resume playing. “We thought the Federation would make us prosper—because that’s what they promised us. You could imagine how stupid we all felt when the Trade Federation delivered the perfect opposite of what they told us. Ever since then, life has been hard for all of us. Especially the children—even if they don’t see it that way, at least not yet.”

Nomara understood Tymara’s sentiments, after all, she is a mother just looking for out for children and wanting what’s only best for them. The collective giggling of the girls was the only thing that warmed the abode today.

“Where’s their father?”

Tymara’s clasped fingers tightened around one another, she breathed deeply and bit her lip before she spoke a word.

“I lost him to a mining accident… because they wanted more metal. That’s all we ever heard from them. More metal. More work. More yields.”

“I’m sorry,” Nomara averted her gaze to the food that had now gone cold.

Little Jidné approached the table, specifically to Nomara’s side. She waddled towards the Jedi, the baby stared and studied the vibrant indigo patterns of the montrals while feeling its texture; then her pudgy paws found the tassel of turquoise beads that framed the side of the Togruta’s face, mistaking it for a toy. The two women giggled, endeared the little one’s innocence as Jidné continued to lightly swat the accessory and watch it dangle, immediately and easily entertained. Eventually, her sisters joined in and bombarded the Togruta with questions of wonderment—to name a few, they asked her where her species lived, if the white patterns on their faces were actual skin or tattoos, and how long can their montrals grow.

Nomara is simply overwhelmed by the cheeriness of these three girls combined, but the unexplainable lightness of Jidné prevailed. She knew it was the girl’s Force energy, but also the purity of her heart and spirit.

Tymara smiled at the sight of her youngest daughter getting along too easily with their visitor, but it was a sad smile—in her mind, she was already arguing against herself for the betterment of her youngest. With the occupation rendering them dirt poor and being a single parent, she had to make the toughest decision of her life. It took Tymara the entire evening to let it sink into her and toughen herself up even though she’s already falling apart because of their economic state.

By sunset, the entire village was rattled by the presence of the Trade Federation emissaries and their guards—a small unit of battle droids. What barred them from taking a step further into the settlement is Sentuk, with his warriors and hunters united to making a barricade out of themselves to protect their home.

“Not one step further!” Sentuk bellowed.

“I am sure you are aware of your settlement’s dues, old man,” the Neimoidian official flapped its trouty lips at the tribe leader.

“Your demands do not have a single drop of realism in them! You demand large yields over a short period of time, not even the manpower of two villages combined can make that quota,”

“Yeah, with what you’ve done with our mines—that quota is ridiculous!” added a spear-wielding warrior standing beside Sentuk and the men behind them murmured in agreement.

“Is your brain smaller than what it appears?!” taunted another man in the barricade, the joke was received differently from each party.

Vexed and provoked, the Neimoidian emissary raised a finger at Sentuk.

“I have given you more than enough time for that quota and you have failed me once more! I told you what would come to you should you not do what you are asked!”

A hasty wave of the hand prompted the guards to aim their rifles at the people making up the human barricade, the people in the village shrieked in fright—many of which have already retreated into their homes but peered through their windows. Nomara, who had been observing the sour exchange between the leader and the slimy emissary, rushed into the scene a split second after the command to fire has been given—killing off five of the men already and fatally wounding Sentuk after being shot in the side of his stomach.

“Jedi!? Here!?” the Neimodian screeched in a panic.

All of the villagers completely retreated into their homes—including Tymara and the girls—while Nomara aided the warriors in eradicating the battle droids, leaving the empty-handed emissary standing amongst the pile of dead clankers. Completely befuddled and frightened for his life, Nomara had him at swordpoint.

“I… I didn’t give the order! I’m just a messenger…!” he whimpered and his sheer terror had unconsciously dragged his legs to make him run away, leaving the wake of the ruined droids behind him.

When the tension eased, Nomara quickly turned her attention to the wounded Sentuk. A group of people have already gathered around him.

“Bring him to your healer, quickly now!”

The group carried their leader by the feet and underneath his arms, they briskly brought him to the cottage of the village healer while Nomara caught her breath and examined the droids’ remains. She felt the gaze of Tymara piercing right through her, she found the mother and children huddled by the doorway after the skirmish; Nomara saw the sad, disdainful sigh of the mother as she herded her children back into the house again.

After tucking the girls to bed, Tymara joined Nomara who was overlooking the coastline; the ocean breeze made the ladies’ robes and skirt billow wildly above the grass. There was a voiceless banter between the women, as if they have already began this conversation in their minds and linked it to each other.

“Will she be taken care of?” Tymara blurted.

Taken aback by the question, Nomara turned her head to the mother and stared at her for a long moment, unaware that her lips have parted due to the surprise. She turned her eyes back to the ocean slowly being devoured by the evening’s darkness.

“What?”

“Jidné. If you bring her with you, to become a Jedi, will she be taken care of?”

“Tymara, a Jedi’s hard life is a hard life,” Nomara shifted her body to face Tymara. “Jidné will have to grow up facing a lot of dangers as she grows up if she comes with me.”

Tymara bitterly chuckled, more of a nasal exhalation than an actual laugh, “Better than scratching the earth for her next meal. At least I know that she lives fighting for something honorable.”

“What about you? And Krea and Maryn?”

“We’ll manage. They’ve already learned how to loom and tend farms, they know their craft well. But for Jidné, well…” Tymara licked her lips. “This will always be her home, but I know she’s made for something greater. I just know it. You can never underestimate a mother’s intuition.”

Nomara smiled, although sadly, mostly for Tymara and the girls. Having nothing more to say, the two of them continued to look into the horizon, finding an individual sort of comfort underneath the pale blue moonlight.

“No, I suppose not.”

That night, Tymara snuck upon her sleeping daughters, but fixated her eyes on the youngest—plump cheeks squished against the pillow, her round and supple belly rising and falling as she slept, and her twitching eyelids made Tymara wonder what the little one could be dreaming of. She knelt down by Jidné’s bedside, her hands smoothly glided over her soft head and fine head of dark hair, and leaned forward to kiss Jidné’s forehead—it was a long kiss, and even after she pulled her lips away, the roundness of the baby’s cheek perfectly fit the curve of Tymara’s nose bridge, inhaling Jidné’s infant scent.

The woman bit her lip as she battled with her tears. It’s going to be a long night for Tymara.

Nomara watched from the open doorway, arms crossed with each other, there was a heavy gloom around the house that suffocated her—not even sighing deeply helped. She retired to the space in the bedroom that Tymara had personally fixed up for her.

In the morning of their departure, Tymara held her youngest daughter for the final time and rocked her as if putting her to sleep. Her sisters, as well, bade their own tearful goodbyes to their baby sister, ceaselessly riddling her plump cheeks with kisses and leaving tears stains upon her skin—in a way, Jidné is lucky that she is unaware that this is the sorrow of parting.

Tymara nuzzled her cheek against Jidné’s smooth forehead. One last embrace and a kiss buried into the crook of the child neck; with her eyes closed, she imagined how Jidné would grow up to be—but she’s completely certain that she’d grow up to be a strong, courageous woman—and she painted a mental picture of how her daughter would look like once she’s come of age.

In a prayerful solemnity, Tymara whispered all of her wishes for Jidné to Jidné herself—be strong and brave yet remain kind, wise, and gentle; make good friends with the other children if she meets any; listen well to the instructions of the elders; and most importantly, listen to her heart.

Tymara savored this last moment, Nomara was kind enough to give all the time she needs—the Togruta passed the time by prepping her Starfighter and doing the necessary maintenance checks before takeoff.

“I love you… I love you so much, my darling girl,” Tymara feigns a brave face. She held Jidné right in front of her, then Jidné’s pudgy hands caressed both of her cheeks, and that’s when she lost it—tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting the child’s tiny fingers.

The true, final embrace and kiss from her mother before Jidné is transferred to the arms of Nomara Anesh.

“You have my word. She’ll be treated well.”

“I know,” muttered Tymara quite weakly, rubbing her arms together to whisk away the cold goosebumps pelting her skin. “I know.”

Tymara watches her daughter walk away in the arms of the Togruta. She watches a part of her heart and soul shrink in the distance, unaware eyes looking over the shoulder of the Seeker and back into the grieving eyes of her mother. Tymara’s hand flinched into a short-lived wave and quickly brought them to her lip, biting into her fingernails until her daughter has fully disappeared in a ship with Nomara and out of Eshyn.

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain"

Chapter 48

"An Unforeseen Chain of Events"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: Wow, I cranked this one out faster than I had anticipated 😆

I'm going to apologize upfront because, once again, this is another dialogue-heavy chapter, but it's full of information, so it just worked best that way 😁 Hope y'all don't mind!

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @tmntchick677 , @tech-aficionado , @ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettroseog , @tech-deck , @thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink , @l-lend

《 Chapter 47

》 Chapter 49

All chapters

Explanation: On the shady planet of Balmorra, Kimber and Rex get the shocking answers they seek and formulate a plan to rescue the Bad Batch with the help of a new group of female companions.

Upon being introduced to the three other ladies in the room, Kimber and Rex took in their appearances.

Kida Firestar, the Pantoran leaning on the left wall, had light blue skin and yellow markings on her cheeks. Her eyes were a dull gold and her lips a slightly darker shade of blue than the rest of her skin. Her dark magenta hair that curled up at the ends fell to her shoulders and a black metal band adorned her head, straight cut bangs hanging across her forehead. She wore a black dress with alternating dark purple stripes on the shoulders and gloves of the same color. Her dress had slits down the front, showing she had on trousers underneath. She gave Rex and Kimber a welcoming smirk.

The Togruta at the computers, Irys Montari, had golden skin, light gold marks on her face and her lekku and montrals were a swirling mix of white and golden brown. On her montrals was a black headress that looped over the tips of her horns. She donned gray and black leather armor and boots, her lips were colored a shimmering black and she looked at Kimber and Rex with piercing pink eyes, which served a sharp contrast to the rest of her appearance.

Then Lex Valen, the Zabrak on the sofa, had light tan skin covered in dark marks and tattoos. Her head was covered in small horns that poked out from beneath her thick, navy blue-toned black hair that was done up in several braids and pulled back into a ponytail. She had violet eyes and rouge-colored lips with dark outliner around the edges and had a single vertical dark stripe down the center of her bottom lip. She was clothed in simple garments: a red tank top with a leather corset, black trousers and boots. She offered Kimber and Rex a casual nod as they came in.

"A very curious group," Kimber said aloud.

Lex ceased twirling her blade and droned at her in a cool voice, "What, are we not good enough for you?"

Startled at such an abrupt response, Kimber held up her hands and said defensively, "No, no, I just...wasn't expecting there to be more people here."

Irys then said in a thick Togruti accent as she turned back to her computers, "Well, it's imperative we keep our existence under wraps for now. Hence why Rina didn't tell you about us."

"Well, I think it's marvelous that Rina finally got you to come here, Kimber," said Kida, her Pantoran accent quite prominent, as she came up and ran her index finger under Kimber's chin. "She's told us about you and we've been dying to meet you."

"Correction: Rina didn't get me here. I called her and came here because I needed help," Kimber clarified.

Rina stepped forward and said, "Trust me, you'll get it. You said you needed information, so maybe we all can help. Everyone here has ins within the shadier parts of the galaxy."

Rex leaned to Kimber and whispered flatly, "That's reassuring."

Having not heard his comment, Rina then pointed to Irys and said, "Irys, especially. She's got pretty much every corner of the holonet wired. News, reports, records, communications, both public and private; just about anything you want, she can get."

That was exactly what Kimber was hoping to hear and she and Rex looked to each other, feeling confident that this was what they needed.

"There's been multiple reports recently of Clone soldiers disappearing and a couple of days ago, my entire squad went missing, too," she explained to the ladies.

"Is this the same group you were with when we met?" asked Rina.

Kimber shook her head. "No, they were only temporary. This is a different squad."

Rina raised her eyebrows in an impressed manner. "You sure get around, don't you?"

Ignoring that, Kimber added, "They're Clone Force 99, otherwise known as the Bad Batch."

"The Bad Batch, huh?" repeated Rina with a contemplative look. "Sounds like a group of troublemakers...I like that."

In response, Kimber just rolled her eyes. Then she looked over to the Togruta and inquired, "Irys, would you be able to find anything on these disappearances?"

Irys looked back over her shoulder and stated in reply, "I'm going to assume that's rhetorical." When Kimber just smirked in reply, she then added, "It'll take me some time, but I'll get you the information you need." Without any further encouragement, she whipped back to the computers and started typing on the keys in front of her.

Kida came up on Kimber's other side and put an arm around her shoulders. "Come now, you must be exhausted. Sit down, relax and have some drinks," she said with a smile, urging Kimber and Rex towards the sofa. Then she turned to Lex, snapped her fingers at her and ordered, "Move it, Lex. Make room for our guests."

Despite moving to get off the sofa, Lex replied, "Since when did you become my mom?"

"Since now. Deal with it," Kida said with a teasing grin, giving Lex a light shove in the arm.

Kimber sat down on the sofa while Rex decided to remain standing on the side. Kida grabbed two goblets of a bright pink drink from a nearby table and gave them to the two of them, which they accepted.

"You're a Clone, too, aren't you, Rex?" inquired Kida.

"I am, yes," he replied.

Her grin widened as she looked him over from head to toe. "Hmm...I've never been with a Clone before," she said back, looking up at him through hooded eyes and batting her eyelashes at him.

Rex's throat tightened as he nearly choked on his drink and Kimber raised her eyebrows in shock.

"Kida, this isn't the time for any of your dalliances or seduction," Irys chided her, annoyed, without looking away from her screens.

"What? There's always time for fun," Kida refuted, flashing Rex another flirty grin before walking away.

The poor Clone Captain had no idea how to respond. He was far too flustered to form a coherent sentence. Kimber had to suppress a giggle at seeing the usually confident and put together Captain at a loss for words, for once. It showed her that perhaps he hadn’t had much experience with women.

To direct the conversation away from the awkwardness, and to give Rex a chance to relax, Rina asked them, “So if there are Clones missing, why are you coming to us? Doesn’t the Republic usually handle things like that?”

Kimber answered firmly, “First of all, this is personal for me since it was my squad that was just taken. They were captured and I was left behind. Secondly, we believe whoever is behind the disappearances either has access to money or the black market.”

That’s when Rina understood everything. She nodded, took another puff from her mod and said, “Ah, you need...less than savory sources to help you out. Our specialty.”

“What makes you think the kidnappers have any illegal connections?” asked Lex, who was now standing beside Irys and leaning against her desk with her arms folded.

“They had stealth technology that allowed them to sneak up on us and get past our sensors,” Kimber explained, “and they also had an ion cannon, which took out all our ship’s systems and power.”

It was then Irys piped in, still hard at work at her computers, “Technology such as those haven’t been used in years. The Republic used stealth technology early on in the war and an ion cannon of that caliber hasn’t been used since--”

“The Malevolence cruiser used by the Separatists, yes,” Kimber finished for her. She was getting a sense of deja vu since very similar words were spoken by Tech just moments before the Marauder had been boarded. She got the feeling that Tech would get along with Irys. The Togruta was intelligent and full of knowledge, like he was.

However, the fact that Irys knew those facts was concerning. Kimber narrowed her eyes at Irys, even though she wasn’t facing her, and asked, “How would you know all that? That’s confidential information outside of the military and the government. Did you work for the Republic?”

“No,” Irys simply stated. “It’s like Rina said: any information I want, I can get.”

Kimber glanced over at Rex and knew right away before her eyes caught him that he was tensing up. As a soldier who respected his post and usually followed orders to the letter, she knew that hearing such things would be unnerving for him.

Additionally, Irys must’ve known there would be tension because she then turned her chair around, faced Kimber and Rex and reassured them with a dismissive wave, “Don’t worry, I’m not selling this information to anyone. That doesn’t interest me.”

“You hack into secure military databases and view classified reports...for what?” questioned Rex, his tone getting stern.

Irys just shrugged. “I get bored...and just to prove I can do it.”

Kimber saw Rex’s fists clench at his sides. This wasn’t going to be good. She reached out and gently grabbed his wrist, saying, “If she’s not selling the information, Rex, then that’s what matters.”

Rex was going to respond, but Irys spoke up first, “Information is power and if I can use it in any capacity, I will. I don’t believe in being bought for it. That’s why I’ve had to go underground. People see my skills as dangerous.”

“For good reason,” Rex said back.

“Rex...!” Kimber implored. Once again, to keep the conversation moving, Kimber turned to Irys and asked her, “If you’re aware of that technology, do you know who would have access to it now or where it possibly came from?”

“I can certainly figure it out after I get information on who might be behind the Clone disappearances,” answered Irys before turning back to her computers and resuming her work.

Interacting with all these women was making Kimber even more curious, especially since she wasn’t even expecting the other three anyway. Her attention returned to Rina taking another smoke as she proceeded to ask, “Where did you find these ladies?"

Rina blew the smoke out and responded, "Well, this place belongs to Irys, for one thing. Kida's been living here, too. Lex, I got out of a scrap on Nar Shadaa. We all were either on the run, living underground or hiding in the shadows, so we figured us ladies ought to stick together."

"Then why did you try to recruit me to...whatever this is when you saw I was none of those things?" was Kimber's follow-up question.

Rina smirked. "Because you got spunk and spirit. I saw you helping call out orders with that bald tattooed Clone back during the fiasco on Jakku. You got the makings of a leader, which I thought we could use. Plus, why be an armor chaser when you can stick it out with us? Men can get the job done...but women get it done efficiently." She looked to Rex. "No offense."

Rex just pursed his lips, not particularly amused.

"My offer's still on the table, you know," she also said back to Kimber.

"Rina, if I had any interest in being on my own or with a group like yours, I would already have that," Kimber told her. "Besides, you don't know my squad. They're an elite group who gets things done just as efficiently."

"Yet that didn't keep them from getting captured," Lex commented flatly.

"Says the woman who couldn't get out of a bind herself," Kimber fired back before she could stop herself, not appreciating Lex's remark.

The Zabrak's eyes flashed with anger and she stepped away from Irys's desk. "You got a problem, princess?" she demanded, her body language showing she was getting ready for a fight.

Kida moved in between their lines of sight, holding up her hands at her sides, and stated, "Ladies, please, let's all calm down."

"Huh...that escalated quickly," Rina observed, nonchalantly inhaling another drag of her mod.

"I got something," declared Irys, garnering everyone's attention.

Kimber stood up from the sofa and Rex moved beside her. "Already?" she asked, astonished.

Over her shoulder, Irys replied, "Yeah, sorry it took so long."

"Wow, she really is like Tech," Kimber thought.

Irys pulled up a map of the galaxy that showed a few yellow dots scattered across it. "These are all the reported disappearances across the galaxy, including your squad's," she said, pointing to a dot near Zeffo, though that one was red. "You see how the indication for yours is different than the rest?"

"Why is that?" asked Kimber.

"Because it would seem Clone Force 99 was the primary target," Irys answered.

Rex and Kimber turned to each other, concerned.

"Why? Who was targeting them?" asked Rex.

Going on, Irys minimized the report and brought up a series of private communications. “There are members of this movement spread out throughout the galaxy. They started out simply protesting against Clones or starting physical altercations with them on occasion, wanting to...well, eradicate the Clones, but these communications indicate that, within the last few months, their actions have become more extreme and they’ve started actually kidnapping Clones where they can.”

Irys tapped a few keys and brought up a biographical report. "There appears to be a group out there called the Eradicators. Forgive me for this, but I’m just passing on the facts...they’re an anti-Clone movement who oppose the continued creation and mere existence of Clones.”

Kimber couldn’t help but look at Rex in disbelief, her chest constricting at the thought of such a group even existing. He looked back at her with a resigned expression. He didn’t like what he was hearing either.

“What made them make such a drastic change?” asked Kida.

Irys pulled up a specific communication log and explained as she read it, “According to this report, it seems that one of the Eradicators’ most prominent members was killed by a Clone. They claim the security they heard from regarding the event said it was self-defense, but they believe otherwise.”

“Who was it that was killed?” then inquired Lex.

With a scoff, Rina said in addition, “I’ll bet it was some hot shot who had it coming.”

As she said this, Irys answered, “It appears it was a Rodian male killed on Kuat named Carson D’gall.”

Then she pulled up the picture of a Rodian male that Kimber recognized on sight and she gasped loudly, her hands flying up to her mouth.

It was the Rodian Crosshair had killed on Kuat to save her life.

“Oh no...!” she gasped out.

Everyone’s bewildered eyes were now on her.

“Kimber, do you know who this is?” Rex asked her.

With wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart that was threatening to tear her chest apart, she said back, her eyes still on the screen, “I do...and I was there when he was killed. I’m the reason he’s dead.”

“There was some security footage of the incident included in the report from the Kuat police,” then said Irys, already pulling up the video feed.

Everyone watched as the video started and Kimber’s fists clenched as she saw herself come into frame being pulled by two large Kuati men into an alley, the flood of memories of that day drowning her mind.

“Wait...that’s you, Kimber,” Rex observed.

Kimber said nothing, her focus on the screen.

They all continued watching in silence as Carson spoke to her, struck her and then the Kuati men began beating her with their batons. She tried to control her shaky breathing as the ghosts of the pain she felt that day returned as if they were beating her again in that very moment.

“Completely barbaric” commented Kida.

The next moment, they saw movement at the end of the alleyway and Kimber’s breath hitched as Crosshair came into view, firing the first warning shot with his rifle. A few seconds later, Carson withdrew his blaster, Crosshair fired and then Carson collapsed to the ground dead.

"Well, you weren't wrong about being the reason he's dead," stated Lex.

“Was that Clone one of your friends?” asked Kida.

Kimber was just too much in shock at the moment to say anything right away, but everyone could tell from the look of horror in her eyes that the answer would be “yes”. She felt Rex lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Now, everything made sense. Carson had said horribly prejudiced things against Clones, which now explained his involvement with the Eradicators, but in saving her life, Crosshair killing him had started a chain of events she never could’ve imagined. Because of that, now these anti-Clone people were going around capturing Clones...and now, she understood why the Bad Batch was now their primary target.

Right on cue, Rina then said, “Well...I guess now we know why those freaks went after your boys. By killing that Rodian, your friend essentially put a target on his back as well as the rest of them.”

“He was saving my life,” countered Kimber. “You saw what Carson and his thugs did to me.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I don’t agree with his actions. Personally, he should’ve offed all of them for what they did to you,” said Rina.

“Though, it looks like the Eradicators don’t care about that,” Lex put in. “They only see a Clone killing one of their members, despite either of their intentions. Now, they want revenge.”

Once again, Irys pulled up a set of private communications and Kimber spotted the words “Clone Force 99″ in them. Irys went on to say, looking over the images on the screen, “After word of Carson’s death reached the Eradicators, it seemed they had their own people dig up information on the Clone called Crosshair, which I assume was the one we just saw. They found out he belonged to Clone Force 99 and they wanted everything they could find on that squad. Once they discovered Clone Force 99 was an elite Clone squad that were primarily called in for more difficult missions, the Eradicators decided to start capturing as many groups of Clones as they could to catch the Grand Army’s attention and eventually get the Bad Batch to come to them. Additionally, that would give them an excuse to take more forceful and pervasive actions against Clones.”

“Killing two Mynocks with one stone,” Rina commented.

“However, that plan wasn’t working,” Irys continued as she kept scrolling through the messages. “Clones were disappearing, but no moves were made to call in the Bad Batch for it yet, so they moved on to an alternative: staging an attack on the planet, Zeffo, where a well-known Jedi Master and a group of archeologists would be trapped and need extracting, which would certainly bring the Bad Batch in for sure.���

Kimber heard Rina hum and go, “Oh, so that’s why you were on Zeffo.”

Begrudgingly, Kimber replied, crossing her arms, “Yes...and unfortunately, that plan worked...because now the Eradicators have my boys.”

“What else is there?” Rex questioned Irys. “Did you find anything about the stealth tech?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Irys answered. “I saw a name repeated multiple times connected to the Eradicators that put in special covert requests to a black market manufacturer for stealth tech as well as the ion cannon.”

“Who was it?” asked Lex.

Irys tapped a key and read the name, “His name is Jax Orroco, the leader of the Eradicators.”

Kimber froze again in shock and fear. “Oh no, twin suns have mercy!” she gasped, her hands covering her face. “Please, don’t let it be him....”

“What is it?” Rex asked, concerned at her reaction.

Pulling her hands away, Kimber told Irys, “Irys, pull up a picture of Jax.”

Without a word, Irys did as she was told, hit a few buttons on the panel and then an image of Jax Orroco appeared on the screen. He was a human male with a close-trimmed beard, salt and pepper hair and dressed in fine, expensive attire.

Kimber’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me...it can’t be!” She whipped around to face Rex, who once again looked confused, and she blurted out, grasping at his arms, “Jax is the man who started the brawl at 79′s the night I got back to Coruscant!"

"Wow, do you just know everyone?" asked Rina, flabbergasted.

Kimber quickly glanced at Rina, but didn't respond to her. Instead, she looked back at Rex and told him, "He came in claiming Jesse had stolen his girl and wanted to kill him! I fought him!”

Rex looked shocked to hear this, but before he could respond, Kida asked, astonished, "Whoa, wait, you fought this rich boy?"

"Yeah, I did. Left a pretty good wound on his head with a bottle, too," explained Kimber. Then she ran her hands through her hair and exhaled sharply. "I can’t believe this...this is all my fault!"

As she stepped away to silently freak out about these newfound revelations, Rex turned back to Irys and asked, "Is there anything else you've found?"

Irys tapped a few more keys and stated, "While Jax hails from Coruscant, the Eradicators' base of operations runs out of Nar Shadaa."

"That's why it sounded familiar," commented Lex. "I remember hearing that mentioned once or twice in the underground on Nar Shadaa, but I didn't know anything about them."

Irys then said to Rex, "That's all I know for now, but I can keep doing some digging."

"See what else can you find, anything that can help us find either the Eradicators or the missing Clones," ordered Rex, stepping away from the other ladies towards Kimber. He laid a hand on her arm and told her, "We should report all of this to Commander Cody."

Coming down from her anxiety, she took a couple deep breaths and said, "Okay. You're right."

After asking Rina if there was another room they could use to make contact with Cody, she pointed them to another nearby room. With that, the two of them went into the room, ready to make their report to their Commander of their findings.

It was no exaggeration to say that Commander Cody was completely bewildered by the news given to him by Captain Rex and Kimber. He had never heard of the Eradicators and was even more surprised to learn of the Bad Batch and Kimber's involvement in everything. His orders were to continue their search for information and to keep him informed of anything else they discovered or of any plans they formulated.

Once they ended the communication with Cody some minutes later, Rex removed his helmet, tucked it under his arm, turned to Kimber and then asked her, "What happened on Kuat?"

She exhaled heavily and explained to him, "After the Kuat Operation, we spent some extra time there…mainly me and Hunter. We had been at a bar, Hunter had stepped out briefly and Carson approached me. He was saying horrible things about Clones. I got angry, I fought him and humiliated him in front of everyone. He didn't like that and so he wanted to retaliate. The next morning, he came after me…and that was what you saw in the security footage." She looked up at Rex with melancholic eyes. "Rex, I can't help but feel responsible for all of this. My actions started an unforeseen chain of events that have now put several Clone lives in danger, including my boys, and there may be more at stake."

Rex told her firmly, "Kimber, do not blame yourself for this. You couldn't have known this would happen. Carson D’gall made his choice by hurting you and I don't fault Crosshair for killing him to save you. I would've done the same."

Despite his reassurance, she couldn't help but still feel guilty for everything that had occurred. If she hadn't reacted emotionally and physically assaulted Carson, then maybe none of this would've happened. If she had just walked away…things would be different.

Rex could tell that remorse was still eating away at her, so he said to console her, "You did nothing wrong. What matters now is finding out what more we can about the Eradicators' plan for your squad and figuring out a way to get them back."

"What if we're too late?" she asked back. "They clearly want revenge against Crosshair as well as the rest of them, which means they're going to kill them. What if my boys are already--"

"Don't think like that, Kimber," he cut her off. "We are going to rescue them. You can't give up now."

Just then, there was a knock at the door and then Rina poked her head in. "Hey, you two, Irys has got some more information for you. This, you're definitely going to want to hear."

They followed Rina out back into the computer room, where Irys was still at her desk with Lex standing directly behind her and Kida at Lex's side, and Kimber asked aloud, "What do you have, Irys?"

"Oh, you're going to like this," said Irys with confidence. "I've got information that'll certainly help you get your squad back." Seeing she had Kimber and Rex's undivided attention, she informed them, "Firstly, good news: it's been confirmed your squad is still alive."

Kimber's eyes went wide immediately. "How do you know?" she questioned.

"There were recent messages sent out to multiple members of the movement saying they're planning a special event at their headquarters on Nar Shadaa," said Irys. Though her demeanor then grew timid as she awkwardly shared, "An event where they're going to celebrate their first Clone eradication...which will be Clone Force 99."

Neither Kimber nor Rex liked that at all. Kimber started wringing her hands nervously, wondering how exactly this was good news, and Rex just closed his eyes, keeping his calm despite having just heard about people celebrating killing Clones.

Then Kida jumped in and stated as a matter of factly, "The event is taking place in three days, so your boys are still alive. There's still time to rescue them as well as the other Clones that have been taken."

That made Kimber and Rex relax a little bit. They had confirmation that the Bad Batch were still alive and that was enough to set their minds at ease for the moment.

Irys then spoke up again, "Secondly, not only are the Eradicators collecting Clones on their own, they also put out a call for any bounty hunters who will bring more Clones to them and promised a handsome reward for any who do. Any hunters are also welcome to the event, should they choose to, where they can witness the eradication or even buy or sell the Clones for profit."

"All right," Kimber acknowledged, uncomfortable with what she was hearing.

Rina stepped up, taking another smoke and said, "With that information in mind, we have an idea on how we can infiltrate the eradication."

"We?" asked Rex.

"Yeah, 'we'. Got a problem with that, blondie?" Rina retorted, making Rex rear back in surprise. "What, you think you're the only one that can come up with a plan?" She turned to Kimber and inquired, "You sure the Cap can hang? He seems a bit jumpy, especially around me."

"Pretty sure he's not used to being addressed so informally," Kimber clarified.

She snickered. "Well, if he's looking for anything else, he's in the wrong place."

Rex just scowled, unamused.

Lex then explained, steering the conversation back, "It's not going to do you guys any good to try and crash the event or even attack before then with an army of Clones. If anything, the Eradicators are probably expecting you to take that very action and that'll be playing right into their hands, giving them more Clones to capture."

"Then what do you suggest?" questioned Kimber.

"They want bounty hunters to bring them more Clones," then said Kida, "so our thought is that we infiltrate their base disguised as a group of bounty hunters bringing in another Clone...a very famous Clone Captain at that, according to the reports Irys found, that the Eradicators would be thrilled to have as their prisoner."

Her eyes were on Captain Rex.

Irys then added right after that, "If we're posing as bounty hunters and using Rex as bait, it will give us access into their headquarters where we can free all of the Clones and bring down their operations from the inside."

However, Kimber shot the idea down by declaring, "No. I'm not putting Rex at risk."

"Kimber, it's the only way that we'll get inside the base," argued Lex.

"We'll find another way, but not like this," Kimber refuted again.

Rex gently nudged her shoulder back and said quietly in her ear, "Kimber, remember Kuat. You're sounding like Hunter."

His words struck her to her core and words failed her for a moment. He was reminding her of the Kuat Operation, when Rex and Cody had wanted her to go undercover for the first time and Hunter outright refused to let her do it, at first, thinking he was protecting her. She had hated that he was trying to control her choices...and that was exactly what she was doing with Rex. It was right then that it hit her how Hunter had to have felt all that time ago regarding her; how difficult it must've been to knowingly put someone he cared about in danger like that. How did he do this all the time? Is this what it felt like to be a leader?

Her head turned and her eyes found Rex's calm and collected gaze.

"I'll do it," he simply said. "For my brothers."

"Rex...I can't lose you, too. You're all I have right now," she pleaded with him, the look in her eyes begging him to reconsider.

Shaking his head and the smallest comforting smile crossing his face, he promised, "You won't lose me. Trust me, if I can survive being trapped in a Zygerrian slave hold, then I can definitely survive this."

Then Kimber felt a hand on her arm and looked down to see Rina standing next to her.

"Besides, he's not the only one you got," Rina said. Gesturing back with her head to the others, she added, "You've got us, too. We're a team now and we're gonna help you get your boys back whether you like it or not." She then bobbed her head a little from side to side, saying, "I know this is probably getting old, but I really think you ought to take the lead on this one. It's your squad we're going after and you know the Clones best. Plus, you're the soldier. You've got the brains when it comes to undercover missions and it's like I said before: you got spunk and spirit. We're gonna need all of that. What do you say?"

Kimber stole a look at the other three women. Kida, Irys and Lex were all giving her encouraging looks, showing that they were silently echoing Rina's sentiments. They were going to help her get through this and they looked to her for leadership, supporting Rina's suggestion. Even though she still barely knew them, they'd already done a lot for her in a short time and she couldn't shake the feeling that these women were people she could trust, even if their backgrounds were a bit shady. They didn't have to help her like this, but they were choosing to anyway.

She still felt unfit to be a leader...but if there was a group she was meant to lead, she was glad it was these ladies.

In response, she turned back to Rina, a defeated half-smirk on her lips, and said, "Well...I guess I'm accepting your offer after all."

With a satisfied grin on her face, Rina took one more drag from her vape mod, blew out the smoke and stated, "I never doubted it for a second, boss lady."

Kimber grinned. With a plan now set in motion, it was time to get her family back.

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (1)

Chapter 1: A Child Can Dream | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: I AM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! Our house is clean, power and wifi is back on, and we’re slowly getting back on our feet now! ❤ It was a tough 2 weeks, but we survived. My neighborhood is getting back on its own feet as well. We just need more time in flushing out whatever trace of the flood remains. Thank you so much to @glxy-otter​ and @someoneovertherainboww​ for sending me lots of love & support! It really made me smile 💜🥺

Also in AO3

Previous: Prelude | Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The garage was filled with the same perpetual noise. For a seven-year-old, this is no suitable place for a child—but this is the normal she grew up in.

“Hurry up with that chassis!” barked a male Twi’lek with orange skin in Huttese.

The girl answered, in the same dialect, “Can’t you see that this thing is twice my size, Pelug!?”

“You’re lucky you’re faster than those pit droids, otherwise, I would’ve put you in concessionaire duty!”

A pair of hazel eyes shot a piercing look at the humanoid, a scowl forming in her eyebrows.

The orange Twi’lek’s pair of lekku wagged along with his finger pointed at the girl, his threat didn’t scare her as much as he wanted to—though it’s common knowledge that concessionaire duty was the worst, one is essentially demoted if put there. But she thinks she’s proved herself highly unlikely of being in that position.

Not receiving help—not expecting to either—she hauled up the chassis on a crate while shooing the doddering pit droids. When the path was clear, the hatch had already been opened—thanks to those little ones—to screw in the part before the big race. The speakers crackled and echoed across the entire garage, reminding us that the participants have less than thirty minutes before the racers are required to bring their rides on the starting block.

“Irele,” Pelug called in Basic, but immediately went back to speaking Huttese. “You got tiny hands, hold this open for me while I close off the hydraulic seals.”

Irele obeyed. She had a few seconds of relaxing her fingers one seal after the other.

After the tech work, their contender—a male Togruta named Gelesh with uneven lekku—hopped onto his podracer. A few switches and clicks, the Brazen Bullet roared to life—lights flickered across the entire dashboard, the engines belched, and the turbines thrummed.

“Hey, if Sebulba fights dirty—”

“I’ll fight filthier!” he cuts Irele off laughing, but she let it pass. The exchange was somewhat tradition for both of them.

The speakers in the garage crackled again, startling many who are inside, and the croaky announcer prompted the racers to prepare at the starting block; in less than a second, a second translates everything to Huttese. The announcer was the two-headed sentient of species she still doesn’t know the name of.

Gelesh’s entourage—including Irele—strolled out of the garage and made for the exit. The Tatooine sunlight abruptly blazed its rays over their heads, luckily, they were wearing headgear. Gelesh was confident although the nervousness was somehow getting to him, the girl can sort of sense it—along with a few more emotions that she didn’t want to point out to make it worse for him.

“Hey, Gel?”

“Yeah, Irele?”

“Relax.”

That took a load off of his chest, his lips stretched to a friendly grin, he pulled himself together first and then his goggles next. To each racer, they followed the instructions as the two-headed sentient said so. All the technicians began scrambling back to their pit stop when the mufflers have fired up. Little Irele went further into their pit stop, crawling through spaces that only she can enter; she then scaled a spire with makeshift handholds she herself installed until she could reach a ledge on the spire that apparently supported one of the spectator boxes.

The seven-year-old was small enough to seat herself on such a narrow edge; from there, she has as good as a view of the spectators in the towers and stands. If the crowd was already rowdy before the racers lined up on the block, the noise got wilder and louder that perhaps one can hear it all the way to Mos Pelgo. Each podracer had their characteristic noise for each action: ignition, acceleration, compressor activation, and what have you—Irele can identify the Brazen Bullet and its every sound with her eyes closed.

“Alright, racers, rev up those engines because we start in five…”

A collective of podracers engine noises rung and rumbled the circuit. Three seconds in, their ignition sent dust clouds flying over the heads of the poor people in the bottom row of the stands. The people in the bleachers joined the countdown, and so did Irele as she kept her eye on the single podracer whose body plates are forged with bronzium.

“ONE!!”

One by one, the vehicles zipped past—their noises abrupt like the firing of a blaster, the mufflers thunderous as they pulled the accelerators—some of the audience members had the hems of their clothes flying to the direction of the podracers, nonetheless arousing their secondhand adrenaline.

Irele’s little heart went with Brazen Bullet speeding right in the lead, the bronzium finish of the vehicle were fleeting specks of light over her glossy, hazel eyes. She scaled the spire some more until she could sneak a peek on one of the watchers’ tablets to see who’s in the lead and dead last. For everytime Gelesh completed the lap, Irele could almost feel her heels floating, as if she was the one driving the pod and feeling the exact velocity, the thrill, the sheer focus—driving one was a dream, though her mother forbade her, begged her even not to try it, but said so with a softness that compels Irele to obey, despite her desires.

Everyone had their eyes on the rising star, Gelesh, who was also leaving Sebulba in the dust. Hot on his heels, the Dug desperately cranked every possible lever his hind legs could grab on—in the hopes of catching up to the Togruta. The Dug, unwilling to accept defeat after the destruction of his streak by the victory of that one human boy years ago.

That boy was Anakin Skywalker.

Irele had heard stories of him: how he defeated the Dug despite all odds, and snagged the top place in the race, and how he was an underdog in everyone’s eyes. She wondered if they might have been friends somehow, given their mutual penchant for podracing albeit preferring different aspects.

“This is it, people! This is the last lap of the circuit—Gelesh Odibra and Sebulba are practically neck-and-neck! Who will cross the finish line first!? They’re all so close now!! It’s Gelesh!! No, it’s Sebulba!!”

The sentient argues with its Huttese-speaking head, looping what the Basic-speaking head kept saying in a continuous effort in riling up the crowd. Irele was literally on the edge of the tier when the Brazen Bullet and Sebulba’s podracer were within view. A twin-trail of sand, clouding the tail-ends of the podracers approach the starting line—with the third light blinking green, eager for the victor to zoom through it.

It was all such a blur. The crowd cheered, nonetheless, believing that their eyes didn’t deceive them and that they saw their contender stay ahead of the other by a hair. Not long after, a scuffle was developing when two differing spectators argued on whose champion went through the finish line first. Irele spotted it across from where she sat, but she didn’t watch the scuffle for long; she turned her attention to the announcer’s tower.

“Wow, did you see how close that was! Everything was such a blur I’m not even sure if I saw it right!”

The second head agreed, speaking in Huttese, in the same enthusiasm as the Basic-speaking one.

To finally calm the crowd, and settle it once and for all, the sentient clicks a pattern of buttons on their control panel to project a snapshot of the two racers at the finish line—determining who was closest to the line. Showing images from all angles, it’s clear that the Brazen Bullet’s nose was basically under the sensors of the light—thus triggering all three lights to indicate that a racer has completed the circuit.

“I don’t believe it! This is Gelesh’s third win in the streak—cementing his record just right above Sebulba’s!”

By the hum of a gong echoing across the circuit, a large portion of the crowd jumped and roared in a united cheer—ribbons and petals of sorts flew in congratulation, showering the youthful Togruta in his victory. He hopped out of his podracer, his entourage comes sprinting out of their pit stop with Irele at the tail just getting down from her perch.

“GELESH, YOU DID IT!” squealed the girl, sprinting and shouldering her way to his view.

A host hands over a trophy to Gelesh who then let Irele—perched on his broad shoulder—hold the other side of the trophy. People have gotten out of their seats to surround the defending champion. They chanted his name, the rest of the spectators showered him with flowers, petals, and ribbons.

Every victory was wonderful for Irele. Perhaps, it equaled to the exact same thrill as driving her own podrace. This went on for two more years, and in those next years, they enjoyed the sport—win or lose.

–

24 BBY

It seemed that the garage manager was feeling gracious today. The Rodian boss let Irele go home earlier than her normal shift, in which the girl celebrated with a grin whose ends pierced her plump cheeks, a squeaking cheer as she scrambles to put away her things, and a sprint that sent the dust floating behind her heels.

Irele didn’t head home right away, she went the other direction—towards the junkshop where her mother worked, employed by the blue, pungent Toydarian, Watto. The chimes rang as she burst through the door, startling the creature—who hoped it was a customer, but much to his chagrin, it was only the girl, and so he returns to his chair with a groan.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Over there,” Watto lazily pointed and croaked with his native accent running thick in his voice.

“Mommy?”

Shmi paused at the workbench to meet her daughter, “Irele? You’re out early.”

Irele threw herself into Shmi’s arms, embracing her as tight as her scrawny arms can, “Yeah, Selek let me out early today. Good thing he did!”

Her mother simply smiled, perhaps too overwhelmed by her daughter’s energy.

“You didn’t forget, did you?”

That somehow jolted Shmi enough for her realize that she had caught herself spacing out. She shook her head and mouthed the word “no,” she saw the concerned expression in Irele’s face and took her daughter by the shoulders.

“No, darling, I didn’t forget,” she pursed a sweet smile and tapped the tip of Irele’s nose with her forefinger. “How could I forget my promise to you?”

Irele’s eyes lit up, the sihght of it delighted her mother. Shmi then finished up whatever work she’s been busying herself with before getting off of work. Mother and child strolled out of the junkshop, Irele trottd off happily while keeping her hand clasped in Shmi’s—who was walking in her normal pace, with a few occasional tugs from the child because of her prancing.

By the time they got home, Irele impatiently put her things away in her room, got washed, and eagerly waited for Shmi to join her in the kitchen. The promise was that they were going to cook something together—a house favorite of Irele: Shmi’s own, delicious recipe. They had saved enough from their wages separately, and in total, they had enough to buy ingredient for a hearty, full supper consisting of meat, a medley of mushrooms and vegetables, and fruits and pallies for dessert.

They could only do this once for their individual pay was rather low.

All of this is a celebration of Irele turning eight.

A simple celebration with fulfilling food on the table, with no one else but her mother and herself, in the coziness of their cottage—to Irele, it was wonderful. And perfect.

It was everything she could ever ask for.

–

Months after their promised celebration, Irele had been seeing a man with sandy brown hair and a scraggly stubble. Maybe once or twice, she saw him clean-shaven. She always saw him frequenting Watto’s shop, either to buy or play Sabacc—but oftentimes, the latter in which Watto had a questionable win record. One should not be surprised if the blue Toydarian won through his swindler’s methods.

This man was Cliegg Lars.

Apparently, Shmi had caught the eye of Cliegg, as he frequented the junkshop in search of parts mostly for speeders and other machines he uses. Despite being a child, Lars’s feelings did not escape the insightful Irele; in her opinion, he’d been coming over to the shop a little too often for someone who kept fixing speeders. Although, she cannot be certain if his motives are true; it’s still a lead nonetheless. Even she had drawn attention to herself from the man, shying away from his gruff yet friendly hello’s, and then curiously watching him deal with Watto whilst hiding behind walls.

It wasn’t long until Cliegg began to fall for Shmi, rooting from their day-to-day interactions with one another whenever he would stop by. He pretended that he doesn’t feel Irele tailing them, but he didn’t let that bother him—she’s a child after all, he thought.

Shmi presently being a mother with a daughter in tow didn’t trouble Cliegg. A man of ethics—a rare trait in this lawless ball of sand—he could not imagine buying off Shmi from Watto, but then leaving the child to the Toydarian. Fortunately for Lars, it was evident that Watto’s gambling—with a not-so-impressive track record to boot—had gradually collapsed his business. Little by little, Watto’s wares had either been disposed of or been sold to the lowest possible price in the hopes of keeping the business up. When there was nothing else to profit from, Watto would be forced to sell his remaining property—the mother and child slaves. Cliegg took it from there.

From a certain point of view, his proposition of buying Shmi and Irele intrigued the Toydarian.

“How much you gunna pay fo meh two slaves, eh?” rasped Watto, irreparably pronouncing “slaves” as slehvz in his thick, native Toydarian accent.

“I can pay you twenty thousand each,” Cliegg bobbed his head for the dramatics, pretending to be pensive. “I’ll pawn off my X-class landspeeder to pay them.”

A single holodisk produced a projection of the item in question. The speeder—brand new and in its prime, only seven months old—was an interesting wager in and of itself. The rusty-reddish paint job would stand out in the desert, whether up close or in the horizon, sunlight would bounce off on the sheen of the thrusters’ metallic sections. Truly a shiny new toy.

Cliegg could have sworn he heard the clinking of credits when Watto’s eyes lit up with greedy intrigue.

Good, that’s gotten his attention. Thought the man.

Watto hovered himself closer to the projection, his flimsy wings struggled to carry his weight as they flapped erratically, and rubbed his fleshy chin at the same time. To the flying sentient, it wasn’t a bad deal, at least for Lars’s expense in his mind—the ratio of the trade somewhat balances out: Lars wants two things from him, thus he wagers something in the same worth.

“You must think me a fool, Watto,” Cliegg noted the perhaps long silence of Watto examining the images. “To pay you the price of a single landspeeder for two slaves.”

The Toydarian chuckled, then gestured defensively, “No, no. I don’t that, Lars, meh friend. In fact, this is quite an int’resting investment.” His emphasis on the word “investment” made him enunciate the S into a harsh, buzzing Z.

Perhaps, it is in the nature of every Toydarian to call anything an investment—even a gamble on a card game. There aren’t many of Watto’s kind here in Tatooine, but that is the only impression Cliegg can pick up from Watto for his opinion on the species. Not having any of the suspense, the man tried to broke the deal until they can shake on it. Watto came so far as making an event out of it, but Lars insisted to refrain from the grandeur, to which his beneficiary gave in.

They finally shook on it. The two males were clueless that Irele had been eavesdropping on their exchange. It was a bad habit that Shmi had gently reprimanded her of, but just this once, she had never been invested in someone else’s conversation—only because the subject was their freedom at stake, and it was this stranger who dared to go through this length of settling an agreement with their current slaver. Irele’s mind was in a whirl—would he be a kinder slaver than Watto? More generous or more cruel? With their conversation going on what felt like hours, she had resorted to sitting on the floor, her back against the wall as she listened in on their voices.

The girl heard the door chimes followed by the silence, then she scrambled to her feet when she heard the flapping of Watto’s wings grow louder and disappeared as quietly as she could.

Two days later after that agreement had been set in stone, today’s the fateful day: Shmi finds out only now that she and Irele had been sold to Cliegg Lars. When Watto announced that he’s sold them together to this man, understandably, the woman was taken aback from her lack of prior knowledge, and she had every right to be surprised. Her daughter, on the other hand, feigned it—her false silence fit in with the mood of the room.

Shmi and Irele Skywalker watched the pouch of credits transfer from Cliegg’s hand to Watto’s, signifying that they now belong to Cliegg Lars.

“Take them,” Watto says, although somberly. He hovers in place as he watches Shmi and Irele join Cliegg out of the shop.

“I wish you good luck on your business, Watto,” Lars bade, however, it felt backhanded.

At the entrance of the junkshop awaited a pair of eopies—tall, quadrupedal animals that served as mounts for people and carriers of cargo—handled by a Jawa that Cliegg hired for a few hours.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t give you two a more comfortable ride to your new home,” there was a sincerity in Lars’s voice, warm and genuine, something that Shmi nor Irele had not heard for a long time.

“It’s fine,” Shmi stuttered while trying to be polite. “I’m more used with the mount than speeders.”

“Ah, well, where you’re living—you’ll get used to it, but I’ll let you do it in your own pace.”

With a simple waving gesture from Cliegg, the Jawa hauled the animal pair then coaxed both to go down on their knees—level enough so the humans can hop on their backs. Each eopie grunted when they felt more weight on themselves; Shmi and Irele shared one saddle, Lars took the lead from town to their new home.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (19)

Chapter 19: Out of Here | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: I feel like I’ve delayed on this chapter even though it’s not? Feels kinda weird, I’ve probably lost my sense of time but I’m glad I’ve finally finished it either way 😁

Also tagging @berenilion​ @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @stellar-trinity​ @justtinfoley​ @peterwandaparker​ @calgasm​ @queen-destenie​ @calsponchoemporium​ @sweeetteaa​ @cal-jestis​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @fallenjedii​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 – 17 | Previous: Part 18 | Next: Part 20 | Masterlist

19 of ?

Jidné had never felt more alone in five years.

The hallway in which she marched through made her feel small. The canister in her hand hung heavy—literally and figuratively—she thinks she couldn’t hold onto it much longer. The droid clinging on her body harness peeked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her expression, ID has noticed that Jidné has been awfully quiet, save the stifled, repressed sobs that squeak out of her throat.

“I’m… It’s nothing, ID,” she mumbled and then bit her lip.

Warm wind suddenly gusted through Jidné’s spine, it wasn’t from the circulating air in the fortress—it was something else. She looked around only to find nothing but herself and ID in the desolate corridor.

“Is that truly your final resolve?” the disembodied voice of Master Anesh called out from the nothingness.

Hearing Nomara’s voice again when she least expected it took her by surprise. Jidné searched left and right for the Force ghost of her late master until she found blue smoke materializing in front of her; it started out hazy and shapeless, from the Jedi girl’s eyes it appeared to be wafting towards her—the closer it got, the more defined the silhouette became, from the montral tip down to the sweeping hem of Nomara’s robes.

Unlike her previous encounters with a vision of her master, this one felt significantly different: it was warm and sage, like how Jidné exactly remembers Master Anesh until her death.

“Master…” Jidné gasped. “I… I feel like I’ve failed. I have failed, haven’t I?”

Nomara, stood close in front of her apprentice, her arms crossed together underneath the overly-loose sleeves of her robe. Even in her Force ghost form, a rather melancholic expression painted upon her face; empathizing with her disdained apprentice, the Togruta took notice of the cylindrical case in the girl’s hand, the tightness of the grip was fluctuating.

“Your actions contradicted your true feelings, Jidné, and here you are fighting it all by yourself and within yourself,”

“I know what I should’ve done—then if I did, none of this wouldn’t have happened! If only I’d told him the truth sooner, but that doesn’t matter now…”

Jidné proceeded to walk forward on the way to her ship. The Togruta’s shoulders rose and then relaxed, her calm expression contrasted against the troubled child who was on the verge of tears.

“Do not succumb to your regrets, my little one,” Nomara’s hand rested on Jidné’s shoulder, subsequently hindering her from walking and convincing her well enough to heed and listen.

The girl was taken aback, it’s been a while since she felt Master Anesh’s touch. Her hand searched for the phantom and only felt warm air hovering over her shoulder—but it was comforting.

“You have foreseen this, but you still have the power to change it—so that the boy will not fall into such vain of a fate.”

Their exchange prompted Jidné to subconsciously recall the visions that manifested in one particular meditation. Recalling to the final seconds before she had actually left the foyer, she overheard Vader ordering the Inquisitor and Stormtrooper to make arrangements for a torture chamber. She closed her eyes for a moment to revisit the premonition she found in her trance.

It all made sense now: the thud of a body falling to the floor, the pleading that fell to deaf ears—whose voice turned out to be Jidné’s own voice in her own premonition—and the harsh crackling of the electric current coursing around its host.

Vader has ordered Cal’s slow execution… not until he reveals the locations of the children he has memorized.

Her eyes shot up and abruptly turned around to face Nomara again.

“They’re going to kill him!” she exclaimed, and then she gradually reduced to tears as she realizes. “And it’s all my fault!”

“Perhaps not all is lost, child. Trust your instincts and the let the Force guide you through,” little by little, Nomara’s Force ghost starts to dissolve, she hoists one translucent hand to Jidné’s jaw, running her thumb across the girl’s cheek to wipe away a tear stain. “Only then will the clarity of your mind erase the conflict that hazes your judgment.”

Jidné instinctively jerks her hand up to hold Nomara’s now-fading hand on her face. She closes her eyes to savor the warmth—albeit being only an illusion—when she finally opens them again, she finds herself and her droid alone in the eerie hallway of the dark lord’s fortress. The droid peeked over her shoulder again, ID-3 finds a face seething with resolve from his owner.

“There’s still time,” Jidné muttered, and then turned to ID. “I’m going to save him.”

“BEEEEE!!!” the droid bursts with an overjoyed, celebratory trill to the point that he hovered a couple of inches off of Jidné’s back, the girl received his affirming response.

She dropped the canister and ran to the other direction. As her legs carried her through the inorganic hallways, she recalled again the details of Vader’s request in the foyer—the preparations are due in an hour.

“Trill, chirp?” ID-3 beeped, in translation, he asked what Jidné’s plan is.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,”

The duo came across a control center along the way to the prison block. Jidné stormed in and made quick work in emptying the room from Stormtroopers and a KX security droid. ID-3 hovered towards the main terminal and spliced the internals, absorbing data regarding Cal’s torture down to the last bit of information.

Jidné joined her droid and watched the monitors flash number codes, area coordinates, and maps of the locations involved—in this case, the prison block where Cal is held captive. Jidné tapped the projection of the map, zooming in and enhancing the area, and then finding a red blip blinking on a specific section.

“That’s it, the prison block,” she muttered and then read out loud the area code. “Cell Block E-6.”

“Trill, beep!”

“Come on!”

—–

Cal sat at the very end of his holding cell, still couldn’t fully wrap his head around what Jidné had done. He recollects the look on her face when she was being Force-choked by Vader until she was being prompted to take the money, he sensed the hesitation in the slowness of her reach, and he could’ve sworn he spotted tears welling up at the rims of her eyes—that is why she was so eager to turn away and walk.

Two Stormtroopers paced back and forth in the narrow corridor where Cal’s holding cell is, casually bantering off on random things until it came to the subject of bounty hunting.

“So how does one get a price on their head? I mean, who calls it?”

“I guess it’s the actual person who’s got beef with them, I don’t know, but I’ve noticed that’s how they do it,”

“You ever been to a bounty hunter’s hive before?”

“Well, no, but I’ve patrolled a cantina they went to once before,”

This conversation continued on until the main door retracted open and revealed Jidné entering the prison block. She carried herself in an indifferent aura to continually fool the Stormtroopers. The girl approached the exact cell where they kept Cal.

“Lord Vader ordered me to escort the Jedi to the torture chamber,”

“It’s not yet due in a few minutes,”

Cal gradually stood up, listening to the exchange between Jidné and the Stormtroopers. He tries to read her through her expression as she spoke with the guards. There was her trademark calm and coolness in her demeanor, a small part of him manages to convince him that this was a ploy, but he continued to listen in.

“There was a change of plans,” Jidné rebuked with the casual calmness in her tone.

The pair of Stormtroopers looked at one another, hoping to find something that tells them to believe the girl; meanwhile, Jidné kept her straight face intact while preparing to cast a Jedi mind trick against them, should they see through her bluff. Fortunately, she needn’t to do the latter. The Stormtrooper pressed a button on the control panel, the red ray shield vanishes and Cal was gestured to step out of his cell.

The redhead stood in the very front, the Stormtroopers behind him, and Jidné behind the guards. The second Stormtrooper thought their formation was unusual, but decided to brush it off and nudged the Jedi boy forward.

While they strode through the hallways, Cal senses a motive from Jidné—little did he knew that she’s already putting her plan into play, starting from the moment she walked into the prison block. Jidné patiently waited until they were left in one section of the corridor where it’s empty and devoid of witnesses—especially the patrolling Stormtroopers—when that moment came, the girl found themselves alone in the path and a pair of hard thumping sounds, following two quick grunts, came from the Stormtroopers, who are now lying limp and unconscious on the floor.

Cal turned around to find Jidné shaking off the sting in her hand. His lips parted so as to say something, but he was too taken aback by this other change of plans. Jidné approached him to his back and used the Force to unbind the handcuffs around his wrists.

“Escape now, hate me later,” said Jidné quite abruptly, avoiding small talk with the boy as the tension between them is still heavy and conversing as such would be simply awkward.

“Thank you…”

“Where are they keeping your saber?” Jidné examined Cal’s person and noticed someone missing. “Where’s BD-1?”

“They confiscated it—along with BD-1—but I know where it is,”

ID-3 reacted to BD-1’s captivity, the fast-paced, tone-deaf trilling and chirping from the droid evidently conveyed his eagerness to save his new fellow droid.

“I couldn’t agree more, ID,”

Jidné took her own blaster out of her second holster, “You a good shot?”

“I’d like to think so,” Cal shrugged. A coy, little smirk couldn’t help but emerge on his mouth.

Jidné’s lips returned the gesture and she tossed the ballistic weapon toward him which he skillfully caught.

Cal led the way, Jidné followed and kept cover for him. All throughout, the both of them relied on stealth, not seeing the need to brandish weapons unless necessary. With little to no action, it feels as though time moves differently and rather slowly in this dark palace, where the winding hallways lead to one after the other with hours on end.

Finally, their little adventure in the labyrinthine came to an end when Cal recognized a door and caught a glimpse of the inside.

“That’s it—that’s the door,”

“Who’s in the other side of it?” asked Jidné who was hugging the wall behind him as he peeked over.

“Two guards—one standing in the middle, the other behind a terminal.”

“How do you wanna go about this?”

“Well,” Cal’s eyes trailed from Jidné’s head to toe. “We could use your Shroud. Take them by surprise once we’re through.”

She rolled her eyes pensively, and then shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Cal was the first to leave cover, Jidné stayed closed by the tail. They stood side by side with one another, in front of the sealed door. Cal discovers Jidné’s fists clenching and then relaxing—and the cycle repeats-his eyes trailed upwards, studying her hesitant, nervous expression. Both of them are still fully aware of the tension and awkwardness borne from the scene that transpired back in Vader’s receiving hall.

Cal had already forgiven Jidné the moment she knocked those Stormtroopers out cold and untied him; on the other hand, she’s still under the impression that he hates her for actively and passively betraying him all this time—she wasn’t exactly used to this brand of kindness, being a bounty hunter has somewhat deprived her of such.

Nevertheless, Cal slowly reached. Little by little, he broke through the closed fist, she flinched upon the gentlest tap of his fingernails against her skin; his fingers tangled with her slender yet trembling digits, and his warm hand felt the clamminess of her palm, though he didn’t care. He curled his fingers, further securing his hold on her until she herself gave. Jidné shot him a quick glance with a flinch from the corner of her lip as an excuse for a weak smile.

“Relax,” Cal coaxed.

Jidné tightly clutched on Cal’s hand, almost equal to his own grip, and focused as she taps into her Shroud. She remained still as a stone—her features steady, her grip unwavering—slowly, she lifted her eyelids and saw that it was successful. One look prompted Cal to wave his hand at the control panel at his left side. The bulb under the button blinked green and the door responded by retracting right into its frame.

This startled the guards; the door had opened with nobody on the other side—in their point of view, at least.

“What’s happened?” asked the terminal guard, quite spooked himself as well.

“Don’t know, the door just suddenly opened,” replied the standing guard.

“Must be a wire malfunction. Go check,”

While they debated on what caused the door to open “by itself,” Jidné and Cal had already snuck through the lobby. The two Jedi exchanged glances and conversed with a nod at each other, signaling Jidné to let go and thus end the effect of her Shroud. The moment her hand slipped away from Cal’s, they slowly materialized and took on each guard. In a split second, the guards were denied a single second of reaction time. Jidné charged towards the terminal guard while Cal gunned down the one who approached the door, he also shot down the security cameras fixed on the corners of the ceiling.

“Cal, here!”

She retrieved the Jedi’s weapon. They returned each other’s weapons by tossing them to one another. Meanwhile, ID-3 did BD-1 a kindness by unscrewing the restraining bolt off of the little droid—the tiny white droid spun and danced in front of the probe droid as a gesture of thanks. Cal walked up to his droid and caught BD in his arms, coddling him as they rejoiced in being together again.

“Glad you’re okay, BD!” Cal laughed, mingling with BD-1’s happy beeps.

In a moment’s peace, both Jedi were met with the sight from where they stand. Beyond this lobby was another, but there was an impossible gap between them that can only be connected by a retractable, hydraulic bridge operated by the terminal. Jidné got curious and stood at a safe distance from the edge, peering to the orange, infernal abyss below—the magmatic underbelly of the planet on which the castle’s foundation stands.

“It’s almost the same as the one in Nur,”

“In what?”

“The planet where I last fought him,”

“You… fought Vader? Okay, that just kinda adds up to his list of reasons why he’s after you,”

“I can see your snark hasn’t been choked to death,”

“Takes more than that to kill me, ginger,”

The two exchanged glances with each other. Neither of them can deny the tension looming over their heads, not even the affection they had for one another that bloomed during their stay in Ombari. Obviously, Jidné was still guilty and this was her best effort of an apology—Cal saw her intentions and had secretly forgiven her the moment she knocked out those two Stomrtroopers from the prison block.

A small smile curled along Cal’s lips when he noticed Jidné’s face was flushing in color, when she spotted that boyishly charming smirk, she looked away, though it was futile to hide her blush even over her tough-girl demeanor.

“Come on,” she mumbled, bobbing her head once and briskly walked out of the confiscation lobby.

Meanwhile, in Vader’s chamber, a royal guard opens his commlink disc to answer the incoming transmission of a Stormtrooper. After the report, the royal guard approaches Vader sitting in his open meditation chamber, he relayed the news to the emotionless, blank face of the Sith lord’s mask—a slight turn of the head was his only response.

“Send out the Sixth Sister,”

“Yes, my lord.” The royal guard bowed, he kept it that way whilst he steps back to his original spot. He did what he was told.

From the Sixth Sister’s temporary room, she had felt the disturbance in the Force making its way to her trance. Dark, transient eyes popped and stood out of the crimson skin around it. The small hologram of Vader’s royal guard materialized on the projector connected to the short podium in front of her meditation spot.

A second projection appeared—the map of the castle, zoomed in on Cal and Jidné’s location where they’re both symbolized as a pair of moving, red blips. The Inquisitor made a bemused smirk as she raises her eyebrow at the same time.

“Looks like the kiddies decided to make some trouble,” the Sixth Sister purred.

She concluded the transmission with the royal guard and immediately scrambled to her feet. The Inquisitor uploaded the map data to her own holodisk and left her room to go after the Jedi and the bounty hunter.

—–

Jidné and Cal sprint through the corridors, but they were still cautious enough to elude the enemy’s line of sight. Even if they had their weapons, they preferred leaving Mustafar as peacefully as they can; little did they know that the Sixth Sister is already after them.

“We need to get to the hangar!” pressed the girl as they ran.

The castle was a complete labyrinth—one would never think that the inside looks this intricate and complicated after looking at the exterior. Perhaps this was one of the subtle, intentional features of the structure: intended to exhaust a runaway prisoner until they got nowhere to go or is simply cornered by guards lest Vader himself.

Both Jedi were trusting their own instincts as they navigated their way through the maze-like halls. They eventually found themselves in the leftmost side of the castle--where they both thought it is the side where they came from upon their arrival here. The corridor’s wall was split by a window that streaked the entire length of the annex; they peered through the glass for a landmark.

“I don’t see the Scarab anywhere, do you think they could’ve taken it?”

“Impossible,” Jidné held her arm up, showing her remote control armguard. “If they did, this would’ve went off hours ago.”

“We must’ve taken a wrong turn after evading those troopers,” Cal theorized.

Jidné confirmed it when she joined Cal’s side and saw the same thing as he does—a hangar filled with ships except her beloved Crescent Scarab. She withdrew from the window and looked around the annex they’re standing in, she finds the combination of a letter and a number painted white on the wall—she doesn’t recognize the label when they arrived.

“We did take a wrong turn,”

“Then let’s circle back,”

Both were startled by the echoing thud of a turbolift arriving at its designated floor.

Cal snatches Jidné’s wrist and drags her along with him. “Come on, we gotta move!”

“I can run fine by myself, thank you very much!”

He heard Jidné but he chose to ignore her, he secured his grip around her arm as they dashed their way through. Eventually, they found the Sixth Sister being the only thing standing between them and the correct hangar. The two young Jedi have caught sight of the ship, but they have to get through her first.

“Going somewhere?” purred the Twi’lek.

“Yeah,” Jidné snarled. “Out of here!”

A suggestive chuckle rumbled in the crimson-skinned Inquisitor’s throat, her white-as-porcelain fangs baring through her amused grin.

Playing along, the Sixth Sister squints her eyes as her grin closes into a smirk, “Oh, I don’t think so.”

She brandishes her haloed saber, one blood-red blade spewed out after the other—against Jidné’s purple and Cal’s cyan sabers.

The hangar became their battlefield, trapped inside a circle of Stormtroopers and Purge Troopers who made a human arena out of themselves around the pair of Jedi versus the Inquisitor.

“I’ve been into better fights than the two of you combined!” the Twi’lek boasted.

The corner of Jidné’s lip curled upward into a condescending smirk, following by a casual shrug.

“Pretty sure that’s a bluff,” scoffed the Jedi girl.

Provoked, the Inquisitor was the first to take on the offensive; and so the two Jedi buckled themselves for the worst.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (8)

Chapter 8: Hazy Clairvoyance | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

8 of ?

The afternoon turned into dusk, deep indigo had begun to eat away at the golden shine of the sunset in the sky. The farmers and vendors gathered their harvest to be put away, and then be put back on display for tomorrow. Jidné saw the sun sink behind the mountain ridges and the treelines.

Eventually, they had to go their separate ways that day as dusk was beginning to fall upon Ombari.

“You staying in a lodge?”

“No, I have my ship but it’s in the outskirts—the badlands, they call it,”

“Quite far from where we are. A little dangerous too, animals might jump on you again like last time,”

Cal’s got a point and Jidné didn’t argue with that. She had spotted some relatively larger predators—deadlier than a pack of Bashiji cats—when she landed the Scarab on the badlands. Initially, she thought she could sneak past those creatures if they came close to her ship, albeit she’s hidden it quite well from their sights.

“Don’t worry, Cal, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” chuckled Jidné.

“I don’t doubt that,”

“Well, if neither of us want to be dinner for the animals out there, best we mosey on over,”

She scrambled back up to her feet, Cal followed suit shortly after. Jidné went a couple of paces away from Cal to stretch her legs and bask in the remaining sunlight before night falls.

“I guess we’ll see each other again?”

She turned around to face him while answering, “Depends, if you’ve managed to bring the trouble with you to me.”

He chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. The sunset’s gradient did him a favor of concealing the burning of his cheeks, but that didn’t escape Jidné’s eagle eyes. An exchange of hushed goodbyes transpired before they parted ways; Cal headed back to the town—going through it would bring him to the other side where he came in, where the Mantis would be—and Jidné would navigate her way to the badlands, returning to the confines of the Crescent Scarab.

Jidné jogged through the forest, stalking and crouching behind the shrubs to shield herself from wandering animals. She climbed over the ridge and the badlands were already in the horizon. She slip down the slope with great care, skidding her boots as brakes while patrolling predators circled their turfs—hissing and roaring at anything that comes close. In the distance, she spots the trench were she had hidden the Scarab, she hoped that nothing or no one has assumed it was abandoned and shredded it to pieces.

“There you are, old girl,” Jidné cooed, relieved to find her metal baby still sitting in one piece.

Home sweet home.

She unwrapped her cowl and untied the jacket around her waist, dumping them on the vacant seat in the lounge area.  Immediately, she went to the cramped room of a medical bay and rummaged the cabinets for Bacta. She returned to the lounge with a small vial of Bacta in hand, a pea-sized dollop was potent enough even for the gravest of injuries. A generous drop plopped on the tip of her finger and then rubbed it on the flesh wound on her shoulders.

“That should close by tomorrow,” she diagnosed.

A great sigh escaped Jidné’s lungs, the overall exhaustion for today had constricted her chest that her body realized just now that she’s truly safe. Her back slouched lazily against the leather cushion of the couch, the muscles around her joints eased—as if twisted rope had been loosed from a strenuous grip—and her heavy eyelids fell until darkness blanketed her eyesight.

Jidné…?

Her eyes shot up and her heart pounded a loud beat at the same time. At first, her eyes shifted left and right, searching the sound and assuming that she’s hearing things.

Jidné?

“That voice…”

“Come now, my little one…”

My little one.

She knows that pet name even if she heard it from a parsec away.

She straightened herself on her seat, looked around and saw that she was still inside her ship, ID-3 had put himself to a snooze mode atop the table; she listened for the faceless voice again, its origin was unclear for it echoed as it called her name, but the words were distinct. The voice beckoned her again, it was coming from the other side of the door that separated the lounge from the cockpit.

“Come now, little one.” The voice repeated.

Jidné could have sworn that the voice could be heard from the other side of the door. Her hand hovered over the door controls, she was hesitating when the silence followed the beckoning, but her eagerness prevailed. A touch of a button did nothing. Jidné pressed the button in five-second intervals for three times, when it didn’t do anything, she dared to look past her shoulder and found herself in a hallway not of her own ship.

Her heat stamped wildly through her chest that her breathing could not keep up. Shallow, rapid breathing was all her lungs could produce. In the farthest end of the hallway, the figure had its back turned but the long, twin tendrils dangled until their thighs—deep indigo patches intricately framed the white montral from top to the bottom.

“Master?”

Jidné clutched at her throat. The voice that uttered was her younger self’s. Her head was swirling as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Master, wait for me!” she strained her vocal chords in an attempt to regain the true sound of her voice.

“Don’t delay now, little one. Come, come.”

The figure was definitely the owner of that voice, but not once did it turn around to beckon her properly. Not even realizing it, Jidné’s own legs suddenly had a volition of their own, dragging the girl across the metal floor.

“I’m coming, I’m here…!” Jidné cracked, her younger persona taking over her adult body. “Wait for me, please! Master Anesh!”

The waking memory of Jidné’s master continued through a door that gaped open, as if waiting for Jidné to come; when she was halfway there, blaster fire whistled—and out of instinct, Jidné ducked as if to avoid them, but they’re part of the illusion—indistinct yet familiar voices of the clones shouting the order to fire rang ricocheted among the walls.

“Jidné, come on now,” Master Anesh beckoned again calmly, contrast to the situation that Jidné finds herself in.

The entire experience set Jidné’s body and mentality back to that fateful day years ago. All of her survival instincts were notched to the highest setting; though it wasn’t the graceful elusiveness that she usually uses for her bounty-hunting—it was the desperate, nerve-racking attempt to escape alive that heightens one’s senses. She didn’t realize that tears had begun to well up and dribble down her cheeks, her throat ran dry from the shallow, rapid breathing, and her stomach churned in complete fear.

“MASTER, TAKE COVER!!” shrieked Jidné, it was more of an impulse than a voluntary utterance; her body and consciousness are reliving that horrifying, life-changing scenario.

She continued to run with her back crouched low as the mirage blasters continue to whistle and fire behind her ears. She glances at the sight in front of her, the figure of Master Anesh—back still turned against her—remained sage and stood there idly, without a care in the world.

Jidné threw her entire self to the door, successfully passing through, and rejoining Master Anesh. Quickly, the girl pulled herself back up on her feet; by the time that she did, her master had gone farther from her—so close, yet so far. She forgave that, she just wanted to get closer to the Togruta.

“Jidné…” beckoned the voice once more, somberly.

The young girl finally caught up to her master. Master Anesh stood taller than Jidné remembered, when she hoisted her hand towards the Togruta’s back, she hesitated and jerked it back—discovering that in this illusion, she had taken over the form of her younger self: a Padawan, a child who still had a lot of ways to learn.

“Have you forgotten what I taught you?” Master Anesh’s voice sounded stricter, as if dismayed at the little child that stood in front of her.

The girl shakes her head fervently, “No, of course not!”

“You’re troubled, Jidné. Don’t you remember what I keep telling you?”

“The Force is in its strongest in one’s emotions and instincts; it resonates with the clearest eyes of the mind,” Jidné recited, surprised at herself that she still remembers it word for word. She jerked her head up to face her master, in search of affirmation from the kindly-faced Togruta.

“Master… I…”

Before Jidné could even finish, tremors ravaged the floor beneath her feet, the lights that paneled the walls flickered until they died, and the beams above their heads were giving away… the entire hallway collapsed—along with Master Anesh standing in it!

“MASTER, NO!!!”

The devastation was so surreal that Jidné felt like she was going to die there. She felt like falling to a deep, ceaseless abyss as her surroundings fully reduced to nothing.

She gasped and sat back up again, only this time in a cold sweat. Her exclamation woke ID-3 from his snooze mode, his tentacles popped out partially and turned into little feet, he stepped to the edge of the table close to Jidné as he asked her well-being.

“Yeah… I’m okay, ID…” she heaved. “Just a bad dream…”

“Woooo…” ID-3 points out the tears staining Jidné’s face. “Beep, trill?”

Jidné wiped her tears with her arm. Her mind was still spewing sparks as it tried to register everything that transpired. She propped her elbows on her knees, her fingers raking through her hair, coaching herself to breathe slower and more relaxed as she realizes that she’s back in reality.

ID-3 hopped from the table to the couch, he tried to squeeze himself into the space behind Jidné’s arms—as if like a pet animal would—and beeped a soft, slow moan of a note. He occupied the entirety of Jidné’s laps, she weakly giggle and wrapped the little disc of a droid in her arms.

“Thanks, ID, I’m really glad you’re here,”

She pulls him in closer to a hug, planting her cheek against the cold dome top of his head. Two of ID’s arms extended and wrapped around her forearms, embracing her back—one of his pincers even patted her to comfort her.

“You’re such a sweet droid, I don’t remember putting an affection chip in your motherboard,” Jidné joked through a sniffle.

When Jidné regained her bearings, she attempted to meditate tonight. It was a slow progress, but she acknowledged every little change she noticed throughout the phase. She stands up from the couch and settled herself on the floor right beside the table.

Legs crossed together, hands on the knees, and an erect back.

Deep breaths.

Closed eyes.

A sharp focus within a calm, sound mind.

Breathe, Jidné.

To her, she bared everything to the Force—she allowed its flow take over her bloodstreams, its energy rippling its current underneath her skin—her fingers trembled, her nails sank through the fabric of her pants until the flesh of her knees, she has latched onto the Force but she’s struggling to get a hold on it.

Her heart leapt when she felt a soothing sensation blanket her—it was warm and cold at the same time, but still comforting—and then her subconscious reached out as far as the rich expanse of Ombari’s wilderness: the lush green of the trees, the harsh heat in the blood-orange desert, the azure sheen of the waters, the life that resided in all of those things from the largest predator down to the tiniest insect burrowed underneath the soil.

An involuntary smile twitched and curled at the corner of her lip. What a relief, Jidné thought, she had yearned for this kind of result for a long time—and she savored every moment of it. Gradually, the Force allowed her to see beyond the life on the planet. The darkness was replaced with a blurry golden light behind her eyes, hushed and incoherent sounds whispered in her ears, and she’s started to feel sensations—firm yet gentle grips, the natural warmth of one’s skin, the feeling of having one’s eyes gazing fondly at her, and the utterance of her name of a yet-incoherent voice.

With her subconscious, she tried to reach out for the origin—she wanted more of it, thus she allowed herself to be a bit greedy.

“What are you…?” she uttered in a whisper, taking a step closer.

Upon touching the source, dark nothingness returned and befell her eyesight. Her neediness had become her undoing; that soft, warm, comforting feeling disappeared as easily as ash lost in the sand.

Like terrors in the night, nightmarish images rear their ugly heads right in front of her face: agonizing cries of pain, the wild crack of lightning, the sound of a body thudding harshly against the hard ground…

And the foreboding sound of a rhythmic, robotic breathing.

It all felt real, even though Jidné knew that it’s not her who is—or perhaps, will not—experiencing these things.

“Make it stop…!” she yelped, unable to open her eyes and free herself from this trance that’s ensnared her, begging to a non-existent tormentor.

Hissing breaths entered and then left her through the hairline-thin gaps between her teeth, her eyebrows pulled together and her head slightly thrashed—fighting it off while her concentration gradually ebbed. The intensity spilled its way out of her; the interior of the Scarab rumbled, the trinkets and decorations that lined the shelves of the lounge room clattered and shuddered at the whim of Jidné’s Force energy.

“Beeee!” ID-3 lowed in surprise, panicked and unable to do anything except watch his owner lose herself in the trance.

Finally, the glue that kept Jidné’s eyelids shut was gone. The shuddering around her ship vanished as well. Jidné tried to regain her bearings, her eyes surveyed everything around her—she’s still in the ship. She melted to the floor and let all of those emotions and feelings sink into her from the vision of Master Anesh appearing before her until that scenario of her witnessing a torturing that wasn’t hers.

“Beeep, chirp?”

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’m okay, ID-3…” she panted. She rubbed her entire face, massaging the muscles of her cheeks and forehead. “How stupid of me to meditate when I’m exhausted… So much for trying to fix myself. Damn, what a long day.”