A/N: Hey, guys! So, this is just the first chapter of a story I've been cooking up for some time. This is all I've got as of right now, and I decided to post it to see if anyone would be interested. The story will be marked as Complete for now, but I will continue it if you guys want. The premise is this:
The crew of the Ghost is tasked by Fulcrum to find out more information about a secret Imperial device known only as the Weapon. Little do they know that the Weapon isn't a weapon at all, but a Force sensitive child. After an impromptu rescue, the crew takes in the orphan, as Kanan decides to train him as his apprentice. Unfortunately, the boy's previous Master, the Inquisitor, isn't about to give up that easily.
Please give me some feedback on whether or not I should continue this as well as some advice if you have any. As always, comments, questions, reviews, and helpful criticism are highly appreciated.
"You're sure about this information? I don't want my team walking into a trap."
"I'm sure, Captain."
"Alright, setting course now. Thank you, Fulcrum. I'll contact you when the mission is completed."
"Good luck, Spectre-2. Be careful."
"We will."
Hera watched the hooded figure of Fulcrum sputter off and sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily. She'd known this op was coming, but she'd hoped to have more information to go off when the time came. The margin of error was too large, there wasn't enough data, and Hera was afraid for her crew.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Kanan's quiet voice cut through Hera's thoughts and she forced herself to relax. She was worrying about nothing. They would be fine.
"Nothing, love," Hera responded, smiling tiredly at him as he sat down in the copilot seat next to her and handed her a cup of caf, which she accepted gratefully. "Fulcrum contacted me," she added, taking a sip and feeling the warm liquid heat her up to the tips of her lekku with satisfaction.
"About…?"
"The Weapon."
"Do we have more info?" Kanan asked, leaning forward in his seat eagerly. The Rebellion had caught wind of something big being passed around in high-security Imperial compounds about a year and a half ago, but no amount of digging, spying, or slicing had uncovered any vital information. If it wasn't for the (admittedly vague) travel records and the tight security around the facilities, whatever the Empire was guarding so carefully might as well not exist. Not even the criminal underground had much information, though not for lack of trying. The only break they had was the codename, Weapon, and even then it didn't tell much.
"Yes, we do. One of Fulcrum's informants got their hands on some leaked coordinates that are supposedly the Weapon's next destination." Hera sighed. "The problem is that these coordinates are the only thing Fulcrum's contact was able to uncover. We don't know how many troopers will be there, the terrain, anything. We'll be going into a highly-guarded Imperial compound to investigate a possible superweapon blind."
"What other choice do we have?" Kanan said quietly. Hera shook her head and rubbed her temples. "Hera, if there's even a slight possibility that the Empire could use this Weapon to harm innocents than we have to stop them. This is our only chance. It's a risk we have to be willing to take."
"I know. I just… I know." Hera absentmindedly took another drink of her rapidly cooling caf, her thoughts wandering as she stared out at the stars. Kanan sighed and Hera heard him shifting in his seat.
"I know you're worried about this," he said quietly. Hera glanced at him. "I understand. This op is a bit dangerous-"
"'A bit dangerous'?!" Hera repeated incredulously, facing Kanan fully. "Kanan, we're going into this op with practically- no, literally zero information, save for the coordinates! Fulcrum expects us to take care of some Weapon we know nothing about, in a compound we have no data on, guarded by Force knows how many troopers!" Hera stopped and took a deep breath, angrily blinking away the tears threatening to fall as her imagination ran wild with the thought of everything that could go wrong, and all the ways her crew could get caught. She took a shuddering breath and whispered, "This is a suicide mission, Kanan, and I don't want to lose you… any of you."
"You won't," a gruff voice cut through the deafening silence that followed Hera's speech, and the two spun in their seats to see Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper framed in the cockpit door.
"I didn't know you were awake," Hera said, her voice only wavering slightly as she hastily turned away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Chopper made a low crooning sound and bumped into her leg gently.
"I was painting," Sabine said quietly, sitting down in the chair directly behind Hera. "I heard shouting and wanted to make sure you were okay." Her eyes searched Hera's face, but Hera turned away.
"Doesn' matter," Zeb said dismissively, flopping down into the remaining seat. "Wha' matters is that you won' lose us, Hera. We're professionals." He grinned at her and Hera felt herself smiling back. "'Sides, I'm sure you or Kanan'll come up with some sorta brilliant plan, like you always do."
"Hey, what about me?" Sabine protested, putting on a pouting face and placing her hand on her chest dramatically. "You wound me, Zeb!" Zeb snorted and shoved her shoulder playfully.
Hera smiled. Zeb was right. They'd come up with a plan like they always did. Her crew, her family, would be just fine.
Cold… Dark… Scared… Where were they now? How…? It hurt. He hurt. The child let out a whimper and curled tighter into a ball, his arms wrapped around his body as if trying to hold himself together. He was Moving again. He didn't know where. Or why. He couldn't remember time, hadn't even bothered to keep track after… what was it, again? Days, weeks, months, years? He didn't know. What happened? He couldn't really remember, even on good days. The child could barely recall his name, let alone that he was a 'he' at all. An 'it'. That's what they called him. That's what his Master called him.
Where was he? Who was he? He didn't know… he didn't care… should he?
He hurt.
It hurt.