A/N: Long time, no see! Hope everyone has been doing well. This is the sequel to my story Into the Endless Night, which was written this past spring. I've been very busy, so I appreciate everyone's patience in waiting for me to get around to this. If you haven't read the first story, I strongly recommend you do, for even with the plot refreshers in the first few chapters, you might be a little lost. You can find it on my profile. I promise it's a really quick read!
The conflict centers around Saneetra Billaba, who is the daughter of Sar Labooda and is Depa's niece. In my previous story, she was revealed to be the childhood friend of Kanan, but after the death of her mother on Geonosis, things went south and she was recruited by the Empire as the Ninth Sister. When we left off, she failed to kill Kanan and was punished severely by Darth Vader, who left her stranded on an escape pod to die. Fortunately for her (maybe), she was picked up by a Dathomirian male calling himself the Old Master. And that is where our story picks up.
This story will have ten chapters like its predecessor. There will eventually be triggers for violence and blood, but I'll post warnings in the author's notes far ahead of time. Constructive criticism and speculation are welcome-what do you think will happen next? And yes, that is a little bit of foreshadowing at the end of the chapter!
Again, it is in your best interest to read the first story before beginning this one. Enjoy!
Through the Daybreak
Part One
"Reach out with your anger."
The New Seeker sat cross-legged on the floor, back turned towards her teacher. She was only too willing to obey, furrowing her brow and curling her fingers reflexively.
Presently they were both crowded into a berth on the stolen transport, proceeding on a leisurely tour of uninhabited space with only each other as company. It was not a waste of time for either of them, however, because their partnership was mutually beneficial. With every training session, the Old Master presumably grew closer to his goal, and she better understood a part of herself that had been hidden for far too long. And to think she had ever been content in the ranks of the Inquisitorius, taking blind orders from a tyrant who couldn't separate him own desires from what needed to be done for the glory of the Empire.
Maul, as he'd once been called by those who knew him well, had helped her understand this. He had been the one to find her after she'd been stranded on an escape pod, mortally wounded and close to death. And he'd already known, in his own way, that what she really required was purpose and direction.
At one time she had that. She and her fellow inquisitors had gone undercover on various worlds, tasked with singling out force sensitive children and eliminating them. The woman known as Saneetra Billaba was a physician by trade, and a student of the Chalactan Adepts. Her life had been simple, her task clear: work to eliminate the sect of mystics that had caused the death of her mother. And so it had continued to be this way, until she was recalled for a mission that had required her particular set of skills.
She had operated on her childhood friend Caleb, now living under the alias Kanan Jarrus, giving him cybernetic implants to correct an injury sustained during battle. This had been to lull the rebels into a false sense of security, to coax them back into the normal routine so that they could be tracked. Besides, it wouldn't have done any good for Saneetra to kill him there while she was surrounded by their kind, though she was extraordinarily tempted. Even while he was unconscious, the hope and reckless devotion towards his cause was sickening. At one time, they had been kindred spirits. This was ancient history.
"You must picture the demise of those who have wronged you," the Old Master encouraged, clasping a hand on her shoulder. She shrunk away from his touch, the wrinkled flesh in tones of black and red. All the same, she was fairly vibrating with tension, her breaking point now on the horizon.
The jedi had all but stifled her childhood, sending her mother into a conflict that they all knew would be lost. After the death of Sar Labooda, her father confined her to the family compound on Chalacta, where her hatred only grew. It was an omnipresent black cloud hanging over her otherwise sheltered existence; it spoke volumes that no one from the Order, not even her aunt Depa or her apprentice, had come to comfort them in their time of need. So when the empire sought her out, she'd been ready, and jumped at the opportunity to seek revenge.
But in her moment of opportunity, she hadn't been able to kill Caleb. Blame it on lingering juvenile affections or her own weakness, but it had been her suffering Darth Vader's wrath as the rebels fled, escaping for the umpteenth time in the empire's pursuit of them. The right side of her face had been shredded in the ensuing blow from a light saber. In her youth, Saneetra had been considered conventionally attractive, even beautiful; she was sure this was no longer the case, for she'd lost the use of one eye, and a severed nerve had rendered her lips into a perpetual scowl. One evening as he helped nurse her wounds, which still struggled to heal even after several months, Maul had commented that the outside now matched the inside.
Her former self would have lashed out at him for such an asinine comment, but now the New Seeker had fully embraced the embers of rage smoldering within, she knew he was right. Kanan Jarrus had to die, not only for the sake of her pride, but for the future of the Empire she once fought to maintain.
"Erase from their memories the image of a weak child bending to the whims of a feeble master, unable to reconcile the power within her she never wanted or deserved-"
Saneetra rose in a second, removing the saber tucked into her waistband. As she turned, the blade grew to its full length, coming to a fraction of an inch of the Old Master's neck. He didn't so much as flinch, a malicious grin spreading across his lips. They both knew what this meant. She was ready.
"Make them remember who you are."
-0-
"So the two of them are dating?"
"Kind of. It's complicated."
"But he loves her."
"That doesn't mean they can be together!" Sabine insisted, reaching out to pause the image on the holovid they'd been watching. It had taken quite some time and more than a few breaches of security for her to procure the transmission, and she wasn't about to have her brother ruin the show with his ridiculous questions. "There are so many other factors."
Ezra made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table in the Ghost's common area. "It's stupid. We know they have feelings for each other, and all their friends know they have feelings for each other-"
"But they don't," she interrupted, gesturing to the flickering projection. "Trust me, I've been watching this show for years."
All was quiet that morning; no far-flung world had reached out to them, seeking protection from the scourge of the Empire, and the ISB wasn't knocking on their front door. When the crew could seize a bit of down time, they did so with all haste-but that didn't mean they weren't above their usual disagreements.
Hera Syndulla traversed the corridor and entered the chamber just in time to see her two adopted children fighting over the remote; apparently Ezra had grown tired of the romance programs Sabine was known to consume voraciously, and decided they would soon be watching something else. They were fairly evenly matched, what with the Mandalorian's sheer strength making headway against the apprentice's misuse of the force.
But her mediation skills were well-honed. Hera reached into the fray and removed the remote, turning off the projection over her shoulder. Almost immediately they disengaged from one another, gazing up at their leader with twin sheepish grins. As always, she could see right through their charade. "If you two could stop arguing for one minute, you should come down to the loading docks. We've just received an off-world shipment."
Scrambling to stand, the two teenagers were off, their boots making tracks across the packed sand of Chopper Base. Their captain smiled, sinking into the couch with a sigh. Cutting a furtive glance to either side, she turned the holovid back on, indulging in a few brief moments of silence all to herself.
Ezra and Sabine arrived just in time to see the last of the crates unloaded from the shuttle. It was close to midday, and the desert of Atollon was sweltering under the punishing heat. Zeb paused to wave at the two of them and then bent back to his work, pushing the container the last few feet into the receiving area, which even after all the time they had to settle down was little more than a hut.
At least there were overhead lights and environmental controls, which were working overtime to keep pace with the sunlight beating against the windows. Kanan stood in the middle of the mess, mentally taking inventory of what they had and what supplies went where. As they entered, he regarded them with a nod, the pupils of his cybernetics enormous against the silvery whites. Initially, they'd found this unsettling, but even Ezra had to admit that his master was the same as he'd ever been. Perhaps even more perceptive.
They immediately set to inspecting the shipment, for it wasn't often that their brigade received correspondence from the outside world that wasn't related to a mission or the infrequent welfare check from the refugees on Lira San. If they wanted personal items or other frivolities, the crew often had to trade favors for the services of local merchants, who were as of yet wary of becoming implicated in the rebel's schemes. But there were always cracks in the blockades, and the Empire was never as clever as they thought they were. And so they often had their fun.
Sabine leaned so far over into a crate that she almost lost her balance and tumbled into it, but regained her composure. This box was addressed to her; opening one end, she confirmed that it contained some of the finest armor wax that credits could buy. The present was certainly unexpected, but not unwelcome. "It's from Ketsu," she mumbled quietly, pleasantly surprised.
"How do you know?" Kanan asked.
She tilted the lid towards him, revealing the insignia of the Black Sun syndicate. It seemed that some habits never died. As much as she wanted to believe that her former classmate had the empathetic capacity to send unsolicited gifts, the fact that she had once left her for dead suggested otherwise.
In the meantime, Ahsoka had entered the room quietly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Over the past few weeks, the strategist formerly known as Fulcrum had some late nights. No matter how hard she fought to suppress the memories of Anakin, it all came flooding back to her once she closed her eyes. The clash of sabers, the menacing flash in her former master's eyes, the noxious wasteland of Malachor where she almost met her demise-it was all so close to the surface. Reminders of their confrontation followed her wherever she went, for in the battle she'd lost the tips of several fingers and the top of one towering montral. Her sprained ankle had long since healed, but she was still trying to adjust her saber technique to the added encumbrance to her balance. Most of the crew hadn't seen her in high spirits for some time, save for the two other resident force sensitives, who had taken to meditating with her when the timing felt right.
"Who ordered chocolate covered cambylictus berries?" Ezra wondered aloud, his mouth already watering at the thought of the sweet treat. The plant was indigenous to Endor, and increasingly rare due to the unrest in that sector of space. "I hope they share."
"They might," Ahsoka assured him, taking the box from his hands. With a twinkle in her eye, she fished out one vibrant purple berry and popped it into her mouth.
His mentor's teasing notwithstanding, Ezra was already distracted by another find. Their resident Lasat had apparently procured a new set of clippers for his beard, and was showing them off proudly to anyone who would listen. "Hey Zeb, you wouldn't mind sharing, would you?" He made a show of stroking his chin where facial hair was starting to grow in thin patches. "You know, with a fellow man."
Sabine snorted, not bothering to hide her incredulous expression. Ever since his last confrontation with Lord Vader, Ezra had been trying his hardest to gain-in his eyes-the only thing that separated him from being a child and a man. Kanan, Zeb, and Rex all had facial hair after all, so why shouldn't he? After only a few weeks of infrequent growth, in which he'd only produced a wispy collection of hairs across his upper lip, she had pulled him aside and let him know, in no uncertain terms, that no brother of hers was going to parade around the base looking like the shifty kind that hung around outside cantinas at night. He'd been pretty good at grooming since then, even if his dreams of a full beard were a little deluded.
Even though he'd emphasized more than once that manhood was about the good things one did for others and not about what grew on your face, Zeb wasn't above a little teasing. "Yeah, kid. Let me know when you can reach the top shelf in your closet."
He shrugged that comment off, finally finding something in the pile that was addressed to him. Realizing that Chopper was nowhere to be found, Ezra proceeded to the nearest computer terminal and fed the holodisc into it. The projection that came on screen was the image of none other than his good friend Zare Leonis, gesturing as he spoke in such low tones that Sabine could scarcely hear it. As the message played, he nodded at whatever points Zare was making, his taut ponytail bobbing up and down.
At last Sabine came to the one delivery she'd been expecting. This crate was wrapped in enough shock absorbing tape to choke a bantha, though the warning stamped on all sides still came through, written in Mandalorian and standard: DO NOT JOSTLE OR EXCITE. DANGEROUS CHEMICALS. HANDLE WITH CARE.
She pried open the lid and tested the weight of one of the grenades in her hand. It was just the right shape that she could wrap her fingers all the way around it, the fuse sticking out at an odd angle. Her explosives had saved the day more than once, and she prided herself on keeping her supply fully stocked.
"I'm going to test these out," Sabine announced, for each batch had its own personality. Some detonated quickly, whereas others continued to smoke long after going off.
Ezra removed the holodisc and shut down the terminal. "I'm coming too." It would be a rare bit of excitement in his otherwise boring week.
"Be careful!" Kanan called out, more out of paternal instinct that anything else.
Sabine looked over her shoulder, smiling mischievously. The desert was calling her name.
"Come on. What's the worst that could happen?"
(to be continued)
