AN: Psst! You guys are awesome. That is all.

No, I lied, that's not all! After this, there's only two more chapters of this part, and then this extended interlude is done and we get to dive into the meat and potatoes of Part 3. I've been having a blast writing these. It seems like you guys have enjoyed reading them, so all is right with the world. By the way, can you tell I'm setting up for some shit? Because I am. Also, I don;t think the next chapter will be ready by tomorrow, but it might be, and I think you're going to love it. Peace out! Enjoy this mess here!

Chapter 11 - Friends and Lovers - 8 BBY

Obi-Wan walked slowly beside his lover, her pale, delicate hand in his own as they made their way along the banks of the deep pools from which the waterfalls of Akar Kesh flowed into. Tython was beautiful, temperate and lush and orbited by two moons, Ashla and Bogan, the representatives of the light and dark sides of the Force on which the ancient Jedi based their earliest Code. It was here that the Jedi Order first came to be, here where the Dark Side was first felt, here where the ancient battle between the light and the dark began, long before there were Sith and Jedi to bring that war to head. And it was here that he took his lover, so that they may look together upon one of the first of the Jedi Temples, a place of peace and tranquility surrounded by waterfalls and rivers, the light and dark moons reflecting beautifully off the clear, flowing water.

"This place," Obi-Wan softly explained, "is dangerous to those who cannot sense the Force, which is why the Jedi originally left."

"It's a good thing I have you to protect me," Satine said softly, leaning her head against the Sith Lord's shoulder, sighing softly as she looked at the moons. "And the entire Code of the Jedi was based on those?" she asked, pointing into the sky, and Kenobi nodded, chuckling softly and kissing her cheek when she wrinkled her nose. "It seems a silly thing to base a religion on."

"Well...it's said they came to understand the nature of the Dark Side and the Light by observing their dark and light moons. That there was a dual aspect to the Force just as there was in the world around them." Obi-Wan kissed the Mand'alor, deep and hungry, the powerful pulling of the Force around him making his blood boil with the passion he so readily embraced. "I'm going to bring the kids here one day. The lessons here are good ones for them to learn."

"And where do the Sith fit in?" she asked, drawing her finger along his chest. "You said you'd take me to a Sith world, Obi."

"I said I'd take you everywhere, my Queen," Kenobi said, drawing the woman against him and kissing at her neck. "And I will. Anywhere you want, this galaxy is yours, it has always been yours." He smiled and took her hands in his own, pulling her out to step into the cool, clear waters of the pool. "I'll give it all to you, my love, all of it."

Satine smiled and stroked his cheek, the Sith Lord leaning into her touch with a sigh of satisfaction. "Isn't the Dark Side stronger?" she asked. "Isn't that how you were going to raise our son?"

"Well, yes, but..." Obi-Wan sighed, running the pale blond strands of Satine's hair through his fingers. "I promised to let them forge their own way. They're protected by the Force, so the Force should guide them down the path it has set for them. I'm just there to see them safely down that road, regardless of which they take." Kenobi kissed the pale cheek, cold in the gentle breeze and the spraying mist of the nearby waterfall. "I will teach them of light and dark so they may understand both. The Dark Side is stronger, yes, but the Light gives one the temperance needed to persevere, to protect, to withstand the destructive power of the darkness and resist being consumed as I nearly was."

"Sounds to me like understanding both is where real power lies."

"...perhaps." He stroked her neck and trailed his fingers down her body, his hand coming to rest on her thin hip. "The Sith are power, Satine No Jedi will ever wield the dominion we do, will never seize control the way we will, which is why the Jedi are dead now. Without the Dark Side, they are slaves."

"Without the light, the Sith are unspeakably cruel," Satine said sweetly, laying her delicate hand over his heart. "But there's always been light inside you."

"You've always been my light, my love." A sad smile crossed Satine's lips, and she looked away from him, her hand sliding off his chest, and Obi-Wan instinctively gripped her tighter.

"If that's true," the Mand'alor said softly, "then why have you been unfaithful to me?"

Pain lanced through his chest searing and cold all at once, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked into her ice blue eyes. "I-I didn't!" Obi-Wan protested, his fingers digging into her hip when he felt her backing away from him, and he couldn't keep her in his grasp. "I would never, Satine, you're the only woman I have ever loved, I-"

"Padmé Amidala," she said softly, and the Sith Lord stopped breathing, his heart in his throat. "And now, Luminara Unduli. Not to mention any of the hundreds of women you have spent single nights with." Obi-Wan cast his eyes down toward his feet, unable to even look at her. "And now, you've even replaced our son with the children of one of your lovers. They aren't even your children."

"No, they are mine!" Kenobi cried desperately, quickly looking up to meet Satine's cold eyes and expressionless pale face. "Not biologically, perhaps, but I could never be part of making another child, Satine, my true-born child could only ever be yours!" His hands began to shake when the woman remained unmoved, cold and still as a statue. "Luke and Leia are my children, please, you should understand, you are Mandalorian! I raised them to be children of Mandalore to honor you, my love!"

"I wonder..." she quietly mused. "They were born less than a year after I died. Did you even wait until my body was cold before you rushed into Padmé's arms? She is a Queen, and very beautiful, and you have always had something of a fondness for her." Her eyes fell on him, and he felt a rush of pain, the waterfalls behind her running red with blood, the lush, beautiful forests reduced to blackened ash. "Was I so easy to forget, Obi-Wan?"

"No!" he cried desperately, reaching out to the woman, his eyes focusing on the bloody hole in her stomach. "There isn't a moment of my life I don't feel you with me, and it hurts! There is a hole within me where you used to be, Satine, and it is always bleeding."

"If it weren't for you," she said softly, "I'd still be alive." Obi-Wan couldn't find the strength within himself to deny the truth she spoke. "If you'd been faster, if you'd been stronger, we would be together." Her eyes narrowed, bright blue giving way to the milky pallor of death. "You killed me, Obi-Wan."

"Why did you kill me?" The voice was different, higher in pitch, but no less familiar, and no less hateful, and Kenobi quickly turned to face Padmé, pale and cold, her face filled with shock and disbelief. Obi-Wan quickly backed away from the women, his footing lost in his haste, and he fell back into the pool, his dark robes quickly saturating with blood.

"For Luke and Leia," he whispered, his voice shaking and unsteady as his body was wracked with pain. "I did it for them, I promised they'd be safe, and this was the only way..."

"I gave up everything for them," Padmé said, her voice suddenly warm and sweet and gentle, just as he remembered, and a cold shill ran up his spine. "I left my husband to protect them. I loved Anakin, and that love was ruined because of you. I only had to defend my children because your touch is black and poisonous." Obi-Wan could say nothing, do nothing as the ghostly pale woman drew closer. "Did I have to die? Did you have to kill me? I gave them everything, I abandoned my old life, I moved in with the enemy for them. Did I have to give them my life as well? Did I deserve to never see my children grow up?"

"I'm sorry..." Kenobi gasped, looking up at the woman who looked so much like his sweet Leia. "I'm sorry, it was the only way I knew how to keep them safe!"

"You betrayed me."

"No! No, I kept my promise!" Kenobi shouted, rising to his feet and staggering back when the women advanced, blood driping off his robes and into the thick, gruesome pool he stood in. "I promised to keep them safe, no matter the cost, and they are safe! The cost..." He faltered, swallowing hard. "The cost just happened to be you, and I made the choice to pay it!"

"Why did you kill us, Obi-Wan?" both woman asked in unison, their skin pale and quickly decaying as he looked upon them, and his hands flew to his ears, his eyes tightly shut as the night filled with screams.

Kenobi woke up with a jolt to the sound of screams, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room lit only by moonlight that poured in through the window. Within a moment, he threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed, his hands frantically running over his bare chest as he tried to wipe away the blood that he still could feel hot and sticky on his skin. It was real. It had to be, it felt real. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of the sweet, melodic laughter of Satine, the sound so close, so familiar, even though he hadn't truly heard it in over ten years. There was nobody there.

He snarled in frustration and reeled around at the call of his name, the feel of light fingers brushing his shoulder, the warmth radiating from deep inside his chest when he felt her near, the feral growls of the Dark Side rising as his blood pumped with arousal at the sound of her breathless moans. He put his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tight. It wasn't real, he knew, but it seemed like it was, felt like it was, as it always did when he slept. The dreams always came, always haunted him, not with visions that he gladly welcomed when he lost himself within the Force during his meditations, but with nightmares that made him wake screaming in a cold sweat and vowing to never sleep again. But sometimes, he had to.

"Obi-Wan." The voice was calm, cool, insistent, heard not with his ears, but within his mind, and he tried to push it away. He would hear no more ghosts tonight. "Obi-Wan." Again. This time, Kenobi's eyes flew open, his golden gaze furious as it darted around the room, and he immediately relaxed when he saw the woman sitting up in his bed, the sheet clutched to her bare chest and her face concerned. She extended a hand toward him. "Come back to bed, Obi-Wan."

"I saw her," he snarled between clenched teeth. "She was here, she was real, it was-"

"A nightmare," the woman finished, the calm, soothing tone in her voice and her touch upon his mind through the Force instantly easing him. "It's over now. Come back to bed." He looked at her for a long moment, his perfect sight in the dark allowing him to see the diamond shaped tattoos on her chin, the soft lines of her face, the concern in her blue eyes, and with a sigh, he moved toward her, took her hand in his, and crawled back into bed, his arms wrapping possessively around her from behind and pulling her close. She allowed it, only moving to reach up behind her and run her fingers through his hair when the Sith pressed his lips to her neck.

Obi-Wan felt...guilty, laying here with a Jedi Master in his arms, the second real lover of his since Satine had died. She was dead, but it still felt like betrayal every time he and Luminara met, every time they managed to escape to safety, every time they found a cave, a camp, a room, anywhere that wasn't the Umbra where they could breathlessly become one, not just through their bond in the Force, but with their bodies as well. But he had missed it, the warmth of a real connection, a bond forged through time and care and friendship, a thing that had been absent from his life for so, so long. Yes, he shared a connection with Cody and Grandmaster Rancor Yoda, but that was different. This was a felling of peace and ease that he had only ever felt with Satine, and once again with Padmé, and he needed it.

He didn't tangle with Luminara often. When he first saved her two years ago, they both understood the dangers of being together for even a little bit. Obi-Wan was an expert at avoiding detection, a Sith Lord that could cloak his presence in the Force so perfectly that nobody could feel him. But Luminara was a Jedi Master, and had been a Jedi nearly her entire life. She was a bright spot in the Force, a beacon in the darkness that attracted the attention of the Inquisitors like moths to a flame. The entire Empire was looking for her, which meant it was only a matter of time before they found her, either through their network of spies, or through Luminara's own inability to turn a blind eye toward the suffering that surrounded her. Involving her with Organa's movement would just see his rebellion ended before it could even begin, and bringing her with him would only draw attention to himself and, by extension, the twins, which was unacceptable.

They worked out a plan, something they felt could work for at least a little while, until the Empire found itself dealing with an active rebellion, until Luminara could be openly supported by a rebel fleet in a galaxy at war against Palpatine. Luminara would keep hidden as long as she could, and when it seemed like the Empire found her, she'd run and begin the process again. Until she couldn't escape. Until they were on her trail and she couldn't evade them. Then she'd call Obi-Wan, and the Sith Lord would arrive to help, spirit her away from Vader and the Inquisitors, and they'd go to ground, hiding for weeks at a time while they waited to be certain the Imperials lost the trail, and then they'd part, going for months and months at a time without seeing each other.

It was an easy thing for them to become lovers, though Luminara had initially resisted it, the Jedi staunchly clinging to the remnants of her Code just so she could feel like a Jedi instead of a fugitive. Obi-Wan had argued that the whole relationship thing wasn't even in the Code, simply a rule that had been added on later, a remnant of a time when the Sith were strong, and the threat of losing Jedi to the Dark Side was high. It turned out that he didn't need to argue that point, as Luminara had actually agreed, of the belief that emotions and bonds were important, essential, even, to be an effective Jedi. What made them Jedi was their ability to let go of those bonds when duty called, when the time was right, a feat much more difficult when those bonds were in place, but successfully able to do so made the Jedi all the stronger for it.

And, as it so happened, Luminara was not a stranger to sex, a thing that still baffled Obi-Wan. After all, they had never tangled before, and they had several opportunities to back when they were young. Perhaps, as he had long suspected, she was simply drawn to older, wiser men. But he'd never know, since the woman kept her silence well.

It had been two years since they became lovers, and of those years, they had, perhaps, been together a total of three weeks at most. This was only the third time Kenobi had to save her, which, all things considered, wasn't bad when the entire Empire was hunting for you. They were hunting for him as well, but Obi-Wan was much better at hiding. He wasn't going around pointlessly helping people, and Luminara, quite frankly, was a less dangerous target for the Inquisitors. They were trained to hunt Jedi, not Sith Lords, and their resources were limited. They wouldn't be wasting their Inquisitors by pointlessly throwing them at Obi-Wan, if ever they could find him.

But then last year, things changed. Suddenly, the Inquisitors became more effective, not in chasing Luminara, but in finding her. She would arrive on a new planet after being discovered elsewhere, only for the Empire to show up mere days later, and she'd be on the run again. Qui-Gon did try to guide her, help her escape their notice, tried to tell her where to go, but it didn't seem to matter, as the result was always the same. Evading them wasn't difficult, but keeping away was becoming impossible, and it didn't bode well to Obi-Wan. Something had changed. Something new was in play, and Obi-Wan had no idea what it was. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. But that was a thing he could deal with later. For now...

He kissed Luminara's neck, nipping at the green skin and delighting as the woman gasped, wriggling in his grip. "Did Qui-Gon hold you like this?" he asked softly, and he could feel the woman roll her eyes.

"Qui-Gon and I agreed to never answer any of your questions regarding the nature of our relationship. We like keeping you guessing."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "You two are awful."

"And you, my dear, are a child," she said playfully, turning in his arms and tapping his nose, smiling softly at the pouting Sith Lord.

"I am not a child."

"You look it," Luminara quipped. "And I just turned fifty. You're the one who's bedding the elderly, not me."

"I'll be fifty next year," Kenobi grumbled, and Luminara smiled softly and nestled against him, his carefree, easy attitude covering up the fact that his heart was still pounding.

"Face it, Obi–Wan, you look like a Padawan." She stroked his face when she felt another wave of pain rush through the Sith Lord, but she said nothing. There was nothing he could say that they hadn't said before. He knew what he needed to do to make the nightmares stop and the pain end, but the Sith Lord wouldn't do it, couldn't do it, and it certainly wouldn't be Luminara that could change him. She worried for her friend, felt the empathetic pangs within herself when she saw him awaken like this, but there was nothing to be done. It was the path Obi-Wan had chosen, and continued to choose.

She let the feeling go.

"Today's the day Mandalore burned..." Obi-Wan said softly after a long, still silence. "Twelve years ago. It feels like it just happened." A sad smile touched Luminara's lips as she stroked the fine hair of his beard.

"That accounts for the intensity of the nightmares, but this isn't the only night you've had them."

"No, it isn't." Kenobi ran his fingers across her back, lightly touching the scars that marked her skin, most old, but some were new, and they felt unfamiliar beneath his hands. Though they didn't see each other much, Obi-Wan had committed every scar she had to his memory, a thing that he never needed to do with his other lovers. Padmé had none, and Satine just had the one on her hip, the result of one of his blunders when he had been tasked with protecting her on his mission to Mandalore so long ago. He had saved her that time, yes, carried her for miles and miles to safety, only to drop her, the resulting scar a stain on her otherwise flawless skin.

"The Dark Side keeps the wound open," Obi-Wan quietly confessed. "It keeps it from healing, because the more it bleeds, the more powerful I become."

"It's a painful path you've chosen," the Jedi said softly. "We were always taught that the Dark Side was the quick and easy path, but we didn't see the personal toll it took on a person. Your actions have been easy to dismiss as evil." Kenobi scoffed, his glowing gaze turning away from the Mirialan, and her long fingers upon directed his attention back to her. "They are evil, whatever your intentions may be."

"Evil is such a simplistic concept," he said easily, but the woman shook her head.

"No, it isn't. There is right and wrong in the world, Obi-Wan. That's not to say your path was easy, because it wasn't. You suffer pain and grief in exchange for power, that isn't an easy thing to do, even if the power comes quickly." Her gaze hardened as she looked at him. "But that doesn't excuse what you've done."

"And yet, here you are," Obi-Wan lazily drawled, dragging her hips against his own and smirking when the woman gasped and flushed. "Luminara Unduli, Jedi Master, in bed with a Lord of the Sith."

"I've always believed in redemption," she said frankly, laying a hand over the Sith's heart. "Even for you, oh mighty Darth Lumis. You were a Jedi once. There's still light inside you. I've seen it. I feel it."

"Not everyone can be saved, Luminara," Kenobi growled softly. "Not everyone wants to be saved, and I certainly don't. I don't regret what I've done."

"And yet, you warned us about your Master's plans and helped save Jedi." Luminara lightly touched his face when he looked away, and Kenobi couldn't help but think about Luke and Leia, his children so different from what he had originally thought his own child would grow up to be. "I think, Obi-Wan, the Force will save you. You're corrupted, yes, and perhaps you may never return to the light, but even dark creatures can do good things. I believe that."

"Foolish Jedi nonsense..." Kenobi grumbled, and Luminara laughed softly and nestled closer to him.

"Be that as it may, I am not plagued by nightmares like you."

"Not even about the Jedi?" Luminara sighed softly as she laid her head upon his chest and lightly kissed at the long, black scar.

"I confess, there are nights it plagues me. It was very difficult in the beginning. But...I am a Jedi Master. Even this must be let go so we may move forwards. The time of the Jedi is over. I have accepted that."

Kenobi smiled softly and tilted her chin up to meet her gaze and kissed her, slow and chaste and gentle, and his lover responded in kind. "You're brave, Luminara..."

"And I still have hope for you," she said softly. "Just as I still have hope for Anakin." Kenobi tensed, and the Jedi ran her fingers across the scar that Skywalker had put upon his chest. "He's in there somewhere, Obi-Wan, just as you were inside Darth Lumis. I know you didn't know him, but Anakin was a good man once. A brave man. More than just strong, and I don't think the Jedi ever truly realized that."

"...Sidious did."

"Yes, he did, and he played his hand very well." Luminara drew closer to the Sith Lord. It was suddenly very cold. "Do you think Anakin can be saved?"

"He murdered Quinlan, Luminara, he-"

"I didn't ask if you'd forgive him, Obi-Wan," the Mirialan said quickly. "He's done unforgivable things, the same as you. I'm asking if he can somehow find redemption, since you seem to be seeking it."

"I've never considered it," Obi-Wan said quickly, and he found himself pushed on his back, the Jedi rolling on top of him and laying with her chin on her hands upon his chest, a soft smirk on her lips as she ran one long leg against his.

"Consider it for me, my lover," the Jedi cooed, and Kenobi allowed himself to relax, closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of her body against his. It was possible, he supposed. In his own darkness, Obi-Wan always had Satine, and when he lost her, it was all over, Darth Lumis bloody and victorious over the soulless body of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had found his light again through Luke and Leia, through Padmé's children. Anakin's children. It was true that Anakin had given up his right to those dear, sweet children the moment he threatened their lives, but even then, that hadn't been entirely his fault. Perhaps Luke and Leia could bring the wayward Anakin but to what he once was. Back to what he should have been.

There was no salvation for either him or Vader, Obi-Wan knew. They were both bad men. Terrible men, undeserving of any solace, any peace, any redemption. It was a path that Obi-Wan had chosen, but Anakin had been forced down upon it, and where Lumis had Satine, Vader had nobody. It...wasn't fair, even if he had come to deserve all his suffering and more, it hadn't begun that way. Redemption and forgiveness would never be theirs, but with the twins, Obi-Wan felt...peace. Calm. A soothing warmth that had been robbed from him so long ago when the Dark Side took him in its grasp and never let go. In this, his children were remarkable. Perhaps, one day they may come to move Darth Vader as well. Anything was possible.

"I don't believe redemption is possible," Obi-wan finally said softly as he stroked the Jedi's cheek, the woman leaning into his touch. "Vader and I are too far fallen, too corrupted. The light that once was within us is gone." He quickly kissed the Jedi's cheek when her face fell. "We will never be forgiven for the things we have done, but I believe we may find peace."

Luminara looked at him for a long while, the bright blue eyes boring into him, and slowly, a wide grin spread across her face. "How?" she asked, but the Sith Lord simply shrugged. "Do you really think it's possible?"

"Who knows? I'm a Lord of the Sith, and I...think I've found my guiding light. It's not my light, no, but it's as close as I'm getting. And...I suspect that it may be the same one for Vader."

Luminara started to question it, but quickly stopped, leaning up to kiss at the Sith Lord's neck instead when his hands found their way to her hips, his grip tight and insistent as he softly growled, his blood thickening with the arousal that came so easily to him. He had secrets, she knew, and he was entitled to keep them. Perhaps even the Sith Lord Darth Lumis had something he held dear, even after his terrible losses, even with the knowledge that any of those bonds may yet rip new bloody gashes within him. Whatever it was, it was slowly healing the Sith Lord's broken soul, regardless of how he denied it. Perhaps the same could happen for Anakin Skywalker.


Darth Vader was exposed. Vulnerable. Bare in the sweet confines of his bacta tank, free of the slavery of the armor he wore, and still, he couldn't help but miss it. The pain in his body was without end, amplified by the pain of the suit he wore, not just for survival, but to deepen his connection to the Dark Side. He lived in constant pain, but in that pain, his hate grew strong, and he grew powerful. He welcomed it, embraced it, hated it, and that was the point.

But even for him, the physical pain he suffered occasionally became a distraction. Even he was still human, even if the armor made him seem otherwise. Even he needed a mind clear of pain so he could focus and meditate upon the Force, the Dark Side, and his place within it. His body could only withstand so much before it failed, after all, and so Sidious had given him a bacta tank to heal his body when he needed it. It wasn't often, but it was enough, sessions that were needed simply to keep him alive, and he hated that as well.

The Palace of Mustafar, Darth Lumis' old home, was a formidable fortress, elegant and imposing and opulent, much like the man who had once lived in it. Gone was the excess now, replaced by a stark austereness that suited Vader better. He had no need of such frivolous things, no need of the vanity Lumis was plagued with, no need for comfort or hedonistic pleasure like the indulgent Kenobi. It brought him immense satisfaction to have taken Lumis' palace and made it his own. It was a small victory over the other Sith Lord, even if it was in the place when Anakin Skywalker had breathed his last. Even if every time he came to the planet, he could see the banks of the lava river where he had lost his limbs, lay burning alive as the cruel Darth Lumis watched. It was here he failed his Master for the first time, condemning him to life in the armor he wore. He found peace here where others would find horror, meditation on his pain in the place it was inflicted.

He could hear the muffled sound through the thick liquid of the bacta from outside the tank, a hissing door, a muffled voice, some other things he payed no mind to. He was in no danger here. He opened his eyes when he heard a hand lay upon the glass of the tank, and he looked into the red-rimmed yellow eyes of Maul, the Zabrak unmoved by the sight before him. He had no need to be. It was nothing Maul hadn't seen before, and with how exposed Maul's mind was, he found no shame in the exposure of the body. It was less embarrassing, less shameful than his own mental ravaging, the scars on his mind far worse than the physical maiming that Vader had endured. Vader had overcome. Maul did not.

The level of bacta in the tank slowly lowered, exposing Vader's bare head to the chill of the air, the breathing of the respirator on his mouth echoing loudly in the closed space. He adjusted, the feel of the bacta on the rest of his body tingling and warm, his head slowly beginning to burn once again. The treatment was not over, so the tank was not emptied. But apparently, Maul needed to speak.

"What is it?" Vader snarled, though not with the forceful, vicious malice he had when inside his armor.

"I spoke to Thrawn," Maul said softly, his fingers drumming upon the glass of the tank.

"Did you tell him we are displeased?" Vader snapped, his anger flaring. "Did you tell him that one year of hunting Lumis amounting to nothing makes him as big a failure as the rest?"

"I did," Maul said, nodding. "But you won't like his answer." The Zabrak leaned his forehead against the tank, a wicked smile on his face. "Patience, he said."

"Patience!" Vader hissed his body tensing and pain shooting through him despite the soothing bacta. "For over ten years, I have waited patiently for my revenge. You have been waiting even longer! The time for patience is over!"

"What's a few more years of waiting?" Maul said, grinning wider when he felt Vader's anger rising. "That's what he said. And he said he's not hunting him, not yet. He's learning."

"How long can it possibly take him to learn about Obi-Wan Kenobi?!" His regulated breathing hitched, and he began coughing into the mask, and Vader ducked his head beneath the soothing bacta, breathing deeply as the soothing gel did its work.

"He says it's tricky," Maul said when Vader reemerged a moment later. "He said to understand how he works, we must understand what he identifies with."

"He is Sith," Vader snapped.

"Well, yes, but Thrawn says that's his philosophy, not his background. He says it's tricky with Jedi, since they have been trained to let go of where they came from, but he says with some confidence that Lumis identifies as Mandalorian. Though, he is running some tests to see how much of the Jedi way he has maintained."

Vader was silent for a moment, pushing past his anger and all the questions he had about the Admiral's unconventional methods, trying to consider the issue from another perspective, but he kept falling back on his anger. "What does Tarkin think of this?" he asked quietly.

"He confesses to the Admiral's genius," Maul said, shrugging. "Thrawn is playing a long game. He says that, for now, Lumis is of little threat to Imperial rule, but that may change quickly if he is suddenly pressed."

"So he would do nothing?" Vader snarled, but the Zabrak shook his head.

"No, not nothing. He's been..." Maul paused, his hand to his chin as he considered what he had heard. "Testing him," he finally decided. "Using Luminara Unduli."

"The Jedi Master must be destroyed," Vader softly growled, ducking his head beneath the bacta for a moment before emerging again. "That she eludes us is an insult."

"Yes, but Thrawn says Lumis' actions have changed since she saved her on Ord Mynoch. He wants to know how and why and under what conditions he comes to her rescue." Maul rocked back on his heels, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "He's protecting her, it seems, and Thrawn believes that when he understands the conditions of this protection, he can snare Kenobi."

"They were friends once," Vader mused. "Perhaps they are friends once again. It's one of the few that remain." He took a deep breath, the anger fading from him as he accepted this plan. Perhaps Thrawn was right. Perhaps an outsider was required, one that could look at the situation unclouded by hate and rage. "It seems as though Luminara Unduli is unwittingly serving the Empire. Perhaps when Lumis is captured, I will make him watch me kill her." Maul shivered and looked away as he rubbed the scars on his trembling hand. "Maul." Wide, fearful eyes snapped up to look at Vader. "Lumis can be defeated, and you will be free of him."

"Y-yes, I know..." Maul stuttered quietly. "But I don't know if I want to be free..." He looked up, a frightened, nervous smile on his lips. "You don't know what he did to me..."

"What he did is irrelevant," Vader snarled. "All of it will be over once he is dead."

"...a Jedi Padawan cut me in half and took my place as the Sith Apprentice, just as it had been done for a thousand years," Maul said softly. "Darth Sidious trained me to know anger, to know savagery, to know that there is no peace, only cruelty, and through his teachings, I lived." His hand clenched tightly by his side as anger flooded through him. "Jedi...Obi-Wan Kenobi, hatred of him made me strong!" Maul's eyes fell, the trembling in his hand increasing. "But Kenobi died. I killed him. I made Darth Lumis." Maul whimpered pitifully. "And he made me."

"You can unmake him," Vader said, a bit softer than before. "We can unmake him. Our Master kept you for a reason, you are an insult to him. A living reminder of his failure to save his wife and child." Just like Padmé...

Vader pushed the thought away.

"I made him..." Maul repeated, almost in a daze. "I made him." He swallowed hard. "Darth Lumis trained me as well. He trained me to know fear. He trained me to accept torture, to be grateful for it, because his kindness was far worse. He ripped my anger from me, everything that I was, and he made it his own." Maul gripped his head and shut his eyes tightly. "I saw him corrupt the living with a single touch. I watched him take living creatures in his hand and drain the very life out of them. I was never out of his sight for long, and when I was, I never knew how he would return. Sometimes he brought pain, but..." Maul shivered. "Sometimes, he'd return and there would be pleasure. Affection. And that was worst of all. It meant he'd been studying, and I was his favorite experiment..."

Maul didn't need to elaborate for Vader to understand. Sidious was a cold Master. A cruel one, at times, but also fair and patient, a Master that nurtured the future of the Sith instead of weakening it. Even Maul, pitiful creature that he was had use to the Sith, and so was allowed to live. There was no illusions between them on who was the true apprentice. Maul willingly submitted to Vader, understood his power, his unquestionable place at Sidious' side, and he accepted it, his rage never amounting to anything when directed toward the Sith, a byproduct of Lumis teachings that Sidious actively encouraged. It made him a weapon for the Sith against anything he was pointed at, so long as that something wasn't another Sith Lord. It kept Sidious safe, the Zabrak's anger forgotten in the presence of the Sith Lords, as anger and rage were their domain, not Maul's.

Of course, it made him useless against Lumis, but for just a moment, when the Zabrak had laid eyes on a Kenobi that looked very much like the Padawan that had dethroned him, he found his anger once again, the fearsome rage that had been stolen from him, the fury that kept him alive when death was certain and expected. Sidious had seen it as well, but Vader thought that it seemed like their Master believed that Maul's anger was best left forgotten. There was something he perhaps didn't know about the relationship between Maul and Sidious, something that made the Master content to keep Maul a mewling slave instead of rising him up to become a true apprentice. Perhaps the danger of him crawling back to Lumis was simply too high, but Vader suspected that was only part of it.

Maul's fingers tapped the glass as he chuckled softly to himself. "S-sorry..." he whispered, and Vader had to strain to hear him. "I can't tell our Master about this without suffering for it and...well, you understand what Lumis is. You've seen what he is."

"...a Sith Master," Vader said, closing his eyes. "Yes, I remember."

"Lord Sidious may underestimate him, but you and I won't." His eyes shifted, looking around as if he thought someone may be listening, and content to see nobody around, he pressed his face and hands to the tank. "That makes us...friends. Partners, if you will."

"I don't need anyone," Vader snapped. Maul simply shrugged.

"Maybe not, but you're alone too, and I think we're together for a reason." Maul pushed away from the glass. "Thanks for listening, my friend," Maul said as he left the room, and with a growl of irritation, Vader sank back into the bacta tank, and he was alone.


Kanan Jarrus walked down the hallways of the Ghost from the cockpit to the back living quarters. The ship was a wonder, a modified light freighter that was deceptively fast and flew like a dream in the right hands. And it was always in the right hands. Hera was the best damned pilot he'd ever seen, far better than him, certainly, and together, they had made one hell of a team. Together, they traveled the galaxy, found places that were suffering under the yoke of the Empire, and found ways to steal and deliver much needed supplies. Nothing too fancy, but the work was important, and it appealed to Kanan's rediscovered sense of honor, something that he had almost forgotten was a part of him until Hera reawoke it. Something he'd put away when he put away Caleb Dume after Order 66.

But not today. Today, they were taking the day off. Today, Hera was turning twenty one.

It was exciting, traveling around the galaxy with Hera Syndulla, though Kanan had suspected for a long while that their motivations were very different. Kanan was satisfied working on their own, just the two of them in a noble cause. Robbing from the Empire and giving what they stole to the needy wasn't exactly what he had imagined being a Jedi would have been like, but it was close enough, and he was good at it. A decade of working as a smuggler, a freighter pilot, a bartender, a roughneck, whatever else suited his fancy made him well-equipt for setting up a heist, and the strategic mind he had developed as a Jedi Padawan helped in casing, planning, and executing the missions they undertook. And it felt good.

Hera, of course, seemed to have loftier goals, though she and he rarely discussed it. She was of the same mind when it came to helping the people, but that's where the similarities ended. She never came out and said it, but Hera wasn't about helping out where she could, she was about attacking the problem at the source. The Empire. A rebellion. Kanan wasn't too sure about that. They messed with the Empire, yeah, but it was in small ways, nothing that would draw the ire of the Empire beyond a half-hearted chase. No Imperial would risk their necks for a shipment of food or medical supplies, which is mostly what Kanan and Hera dealt in, so they attention they got was minimal, chalked up to banditry and thieves, not rebels, which seemed to be the primary concern of the Imperials everywhere they went.

Every now and again, she's talk about assembling a team so they could expand their little operation. More people to do more good, but Kanan wasn't too sure about that either. He trusted Hera, had grown close to her, and having others aboard made things just...a little more complicated. More people meant more coordination, which meant more things could go wrong. More people meant letting more people get close to him, which was something he was still reluctant to do, the exception to the rule being sweet, lovely Hera. More people meant the possibility that someone else might learn his secret, and if that someone were to betray them and they knew...well, it would be all over for him then.

He didn't use the Force much, he preferred to avoid it when he could. That part of his life was over, and using it was no less dangerous now than it had been two years ago when he was living on Gorse. But...Hera had helped him. The Force was a part of who he was, and he couldn't discard it anymore than he could just throw away his lungs or his liver. He'd use it, sparingly, if the mission called for it, if he could pull it off without being detected, if the pesky pull within him could be put to good use. And with Hera, it was. It adhered to the sense of honor he had eschewed for so long, and by accepting the Force back within him, thinking of it less of the death mark as it was and more like the gift Hera saw it to be, he felt...whole. More himself than he had been in ages. True, he was no longer Caleb Dume, Jedi Hopeful, but neither was he the aloof and callous drifter. And that was all thanks to Hera.

Which, of course, brought him to the worst part of expanding the team. The second they took another on the ship, their alone time was over, and Kanan really didn't want that.

It was no secret that he was...infatuated with the beautiful Hera. There was just something about her, something beautiful that went beyond her physical appearance, something about her drive, her dedication, her passion that drove him absolutely wild. True, as a Jedi, he had been raised to avoid forming attachments, most notably romantic ones, but that rule wasn't actually in the Code, a prohibited thing that was sort of tacked on after at some point, and when the Jedi had died and he was on his own, a young, newly named Kanan Jarrus found it very easy to forget that rule.

His attraction to her was part of what kept her running beside her in the mess on Gorse, and it certainly influenced his decision to run away with her on her magnificent ship, fighting the good fight in what little way he could while still avoiding detection, just as the message out of the Jedi Temple had warned him about. He still had that message, recorded by Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, one of the great Masters of the Jedi Order before the whole thing fell apart. Avoid detection. Not run, not hide, but avoid detection. Something about that wording had stuck with him. This wasn't about running around and doing his part to free people from the Empire that betrayed the Jedi. This meant to avoid detection, hide the connection with the Force, keep secret the very way of life he had been raised with. He still took that direction to heart, though in the past year, the application had shifted a bit.

"Avoid detection..." he mumbled, stopping outside of Hera's room and looking at the floor. Then what? He had asked his Master that once, long ago. Were they to be warned away from the Temple, what would he do? How would he know what to do? Master Billaba answered in riddles, of course, as so many Jedi did, but he had taken away that he should wait for orders. And if orders never came? Well, she had said that perhaps something else would come along and show him what to do. And Hera was that thing for Kanan.

If she had been bothered by his quite obvious infatuation in the beginning, she didn't show it, and she may have even been...amused by it, Kanan thought. It was clear she wasn't interested, her mind so focused on her duty that she had little time for anything else. For Hera, something inside her knew that nothing, no matter how badly she wanted it, could step between her and her goals. In this, she was...very Jedi, now that Kanan thought about it. And that hadn't changed about her in the two years they had traveled together. Not even when she started to have feelings for him as well, and that part of her made Kanan's infatuation turn to love.

It had offended his Jedi sensibilities a bit, something so deeply ingrained within him crying out at the danger of such a powerful bond and how quickly that bond may break, how badly it hurt when they were gone. Kanan had experienced enough pain as Calen Dume, and had based the rest of his life around remaining aloof and unattached to make leaving each new place easier. Sure, he had girlfriends, but that was all they were, and they had been as easy to leave as anything else. But he loved Hera, everything about her, and in time, after struggling with it privately for the better part of a year, he decided that it was fine. He could love her. He couldn't possess her, couldn't become so attached that nothing else mattered, couldn't sacrifice other things in favor of her. That would be wrong. But he could love her when he was able, in the ways he was able. Hera was capable, possessed a strong will, and to rush in to aid her when everything she worked for would be sacrificed in the process would have been insulting to her own abilities. It was a fine balance he had struck with himself, but a good one.

And then slowly, she came to love him too.

Kanan would never call what he and Hera dating. They weren't dating, she wasn't his girlfriend, but they certainly cared for each other, definitely loved each other, and when they weren't out making a difference, sometimes, when it was quiet, when the plans had been made, when the shipments had been stolen, when the supplies delivered, they'd sit together, holding hands, and he'd just listen to that sweet, beautiful voice, perfect music to his ears. She talked about her hopes, her plans, her past, how she got started with this rebel business, how she met her cantankerous droid, Chopper, a beastly thing that didn't seem to care for how close Kanan was becoming to the beautiful Twi'lek.

Kanan didn't talk much. He never did, but it was alright, because Hera seemed to understand far more than he ever said. There was nothing in his past worth talking about anyway. All there was in his past were drunken nights, bar fights and short, passionate affairs with college girls and the daughters of the locals. And dashed dreams. Betrayal. Death. None of which a lady needed to hear, certainly not a lady he wanted to keep around. And that seemed to suit Hera just fine. There was something unspoken between them. She understood without knowing, didn't press or pry, and after she learned what he really was, she had never spoken about what she had seen him do aboard the Forager, hadn't said a word about him being a Jedi, never mentioned that other Force sensitive they had encountered, though she understood there was something vastly different between Kanan and the nameless Mandalorian.

They were so often busy, but occasionally, they would touch, a brush of a gentle hand on a shoulder, a caress of the cheek, something soft and unspoken to show they cared. It escalated slowly into periodic hand holding, sitting close together while they ate, a shy reluctance to part when they stood in the halls outside their separate rooms. That had gone on for months before a longing look kept them rooted to the spot, their hands clasped tightly together, and Hera had pressed her lips to his, so swift that Kanan only realized it had happened after the blushing Twi'lek had disappeared into her room. But that step had been crossed, and the next time they had a quiet moment alone, they found themselves tucked away in a corner and pressing chaste, gentle kisses to each other's lips.

It hadn't been more than that because both of them had reservations. Kanan, because he hadn't been involved emotionally like this with anyone before and knew himself to be something of a wild child, and didn't want to scare the clearly romantically shy Hera away. And Hera simply had never done this before. A life of rebellion never found her the time or the inclination to pursue romantic ties, and the woman was clearly far above the males her age, boys masquerading as men. Kanan knew that all too well. Before her, he had been one of them. Kanan was only four years older than her, but it was enough for him to feel responsible at making certain he wasn't an idiot about this, so he kept his feelings in check, ended things when he felt they may become too heated, managed himself so she wouldn't be caught dealing with anything that would have been, quite frankly, embarrassing.

But today! Today, Hera was twenty one. He didn't know why he was so excited, but he was. He didn't have anything to give her, but he thought the gesture might mean something to her. Or not. Hera's pragmatism often made her difficult to figure out. He wasn't sure of a birthday was something she would privately celebrate, or simply discount. He had requested the day of rest, claimed that their last mission was far too tight for comfort and needed a day away to recharge so they didn't make such simple mistakes. Which was true, so Hera had agreed, but that reason was secondary for Kanan.

With a deep breath, he knocked on her door, heard her call for him to enter and, smoothing back his hair, Kanan pressed the button to open the door and stepped inside the room. It wasn't so bare, so austere as Kanan's, but Hera was a simple woman, and kept little to clutter her room with. Kanan smiled when saw her sitting upon the bed, and when she patted the place beside her, he dutifully sat where commanded.

"Bored already?" Hera asked as she crossed her feet under her and leaned back to look at him. "It's not even noon. I told you that you'd get restless. I have word on an Imperial supply depot that's supposedly shockingly understaffed, you can help me make an infiltration plan, if you're up for it."

"Wait, I'm restless?" He gasped, laying a hand on his chest. "I'm not the one already planning our next move! We decided that today would be a day of rest, remember?"

A sly smirk came to Hera's face. "Well, not all of us can be layabouts, Kanan Jarrus."

"Ooh, ouch," he said, doing what he could to keep the grin off his face when she chuckled, but he failed in that. "What are you even doing taking layabouts on, huh? You get lonely up here?" Hera shrugged.

"Maybe I like the view." Kanan didn't even try to hide his smile that time.

"Actually," he said, clearing his throat, "I'm here because, uh...well..." A lopsided smirk crossed his face, and Hera arched an eyebrow, clearly suspicious of whatever her companion happened to be up to. "I just wanted to see if you looked old, now that you're well past your prime." She looked at him with confusion for just a moment before her eyes widened with understanding, a disbelieving smile on her beautiful face.

"You remembered that?" He just shrugged, and with a smile, she punched his shoulder. "You're a real devil, you know that? We didn't need a day of rest at all, did we?"

"You got me. I would have gotten you something, but..." Kanan pointed an accusing finger at the Twi'lek and lightly tapped her nose. "Turns out, being a rebel doesn't pay well." He shrugged. "So all you get is me."

Hera glanced up at the ceiling as she considered this, her hand stroking her chin, and she eventually gave him an indifferent shrug. "I suppose that will have to do."

"So!" Kanan said, leaning over and flashing her his most charming smile as he took one of her lekku in his hand, and she promptly smacked the offending hand away. "I'm all yours. What do you want to do?"

This time, her consideration of the question was genuine, her manner almost uncertain, hesitant when she finally looked at him, her lip caught between her teeth as she looked intently into his eyes, and Kanan fidgeted under her gaze.

"I want you to tell me about the Jedi Purge." Hera took Kanan's hand in hers at his immediate discomfort. "Kanan..." she began softly. "I've tried to be as respectful as I can. I've tried not to pry into what I know must be extremely painful, but now that we're...getting closer, I think it's something I need to know about you."

Kanan laughed nervously as he twirled his ponytail around his fingers. "Man...leave it to a woman to take advantage of a gift..." Hera immediately began to protest and stopped when the man swiftly kissed her cheek. "No, you're right. You should know. You...deserve to know."

"I you don't-"

"I do." Kanan let go of her hand and closed his eyes, breathing deeply to calm his unruly heart. "My name," he began, "was Caleb Dume. And I was the Padawan to Jedi Master Depa Billaba when everything was destroyed."

"The Emperor says that the Jedi were planning to overthrow the Republic," Hera said softly, and Kanan turned pained, angry eyes on her.

"I know what the Empire says, and they are lying! The clones, the soldiers we had spent years fighting beside suddenly turned on us, without provocation, without warning, they just...snapped!" Kanan looked at Hera frantically, searching her face for something, anything, and found...compassion. Understanding. Sympathy and sorrow, horror about the tragedy that had befallen the Jedi. He realized his hands were on her shoulders, gripping her tightly. He quickly released her. "We were betrayed," he said softly after a moment of silence, his hands clasped tightly before him. I don't know how, or why, but it happened. I fought beside my Master when they turned. I tried to help her, and...she told me to run. S-so I did. I ran, and she died." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "She died so I could run."

"She saved your life," Hera said softly, and Kanan violently shook his head.

"No, no, no, I was a coward. The Jedi taught us not to be afraid, but I was. She told me to run, and I did when I should have stayed and fought and died with all the rest." He laughed softly as he looked away and wiped his hands across his face. "That's what happened," he said quietly, his face turned away from her. "You know the rest."

This explained everything. It was like getting the pieces to a puzzle that stood sitting long put together, but incomplete. Yes, she could see the picture, knew what it would be when it was complete, but the finer points, the details, had been lost. And now she had them. It explained his aloofness, his life as a drunken vagabond, everything. That he had managed to reclaim his sense of honor, his bravery, his perseverance, that he managed to find his way again after what he had been through spoke well of his character. And she felt she loved him all the more for it. She gently took his hand in her own and lightly ran her fingers over it, a soft smile on her lips as the man shivered. This didn't just tell her what she needed to know about Kanan. It confirmed what she wanted as well.

"So," she tentatively asked, "should I call you Caleb?"

He shook his head. "I'm not Caleb Dume, not anymore. I'm not sure I ever was." He straightened up, resolved, and nodded. "No, Kanan Jarrus suits me just fine." He finally looked at her, a shy, nervous smile on his lips. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah," Hera said softly, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "That's alright." When he leaned into her touch and sighed in relief, the Twi'lek sat up on her knees, pressed herself close and kissed him, tenderly at first, but quickly escalating things when she found him receptive, and the intensity quickly found Kanan unawares, suddenly having to battle himself from becoming too heated as his hands rested on her hips. When Kanan broke away from her, only to have her press closer to him and kiss him again, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He had wanted this, for far longer than he cared to admit, and from how the Twi'lek was swiftly pulling on his tucked shirt to get her hands underneath it, it seemed as though she wanted it too.

"I think," Kanan muttered when they parted to catch their breaths, "that we may be getting a little bit heated. We should stop."

"We should," Hera softly agreed as she unclipped the armor that covered Kanan's right shoulder. "But we won't. I don't want to."

"You really don't know what you're doing..." Kanan said softly, and with a smirk on her face, Hera undid the fastenings on her flight suit and pulled it off, leaving her stripped down to nothing but her basics, and Kanan's jaw dropped, his teal eyes wide as he stared at her.

"No," she admitted, sliding on to Kanan's lap and clasping her hands behind his neck. "But I understand that you do." The man simply nodded stupidly, and she smirked. "Are all Jedi this clueless?"

"I-I think they must be," Kanan said, laughing turning into a gasp then a pleasured groan as Hera pressed flush against him and kissed his ear.

"I want you." She had whispered it, but for Kanan, it was all he heard, and within seconds, he was cursing as he fumbled with his belt, tearing his shirt off as quickly as he could, moaning into deep, passionate kisses as he laid her back, both of them stripped bare as wandering, curious hands explored and stoked each other to readiness. It was frantic, desperate, something they had both clearly wanted for a long time, and now that their trust had deepened, now that she knew who he was, there were no reservations left. And still, despite the passion and the heated emotions, Kanan had been careful and gentle, keenly aware that Hera, for once, was moving forward without careful planning and consideration.

"W-we can stop," Kanan stuttered again, and was answered by Hera's legs locking around his waist, drawing them as close together as they could be without becoming one.

"Don't you dare," she growled in warning, and Kanan slowly nodded, moved when her legs loosened around him, and slowly slipped within her, the two moaning softly as they became one. Kanan always knew that he'd follow Hera where ever she may go, but this made it official. Be it smuggling runs or fighting against the Empire, Kanan was never leaving the Ghost.