"In Need of Wings"

Chapter the Twenty-Ninth


"Are you ready for Operation Daybreak?"

Cad Bane had mere hours following his release from solitary confinement to return to Hurricane Company. The order from the top: go over the operation with the soldiers under his command. Two hundred in total. Two hundred strangers. He was still getting used to this new role. Living on the streets for months, stealing and killing to get by. It had just begun to feel normal.

So far, all Bane knew about Operation Daybreak were the casualty predictions. If they were accurate, he would have less than fifty in his company left when it ended. His sole excuse for not reading much about it yet.

He arrived at headquarters, Todo 360 following close behind him, to get a quick look at the holomap before the meeting with Hurricane. He rubbed his aching eyes. They were still adjusting to the light after being in the darkness of solitary for seven days. It had felt like a month. Never certain whether he was asleep or awake. But as soon as he was let out, Todo returned to his side eager to be of service.

"Anything else you need, Mr. Bane? Some food from the mess hall, maybe? I can steal some leftovers if you would like," Todo asked, eager to be of use. He had been that way since Bane lost his arm. As if he viewed his master as more helpless and needy.

Bane wanted to be offended by the behavior, but he did appreciate the help.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered.

"It's just, I know they only fed you bread and gruel for a week so I assumed, even though I don't understand hunger, that you must be craving something fresh." Todo looked up at him.

Bane shook his head and adjusted his hat.

"No, not really. But I could go for a pack of smokes. Make sure they're strong."

Obediently, the droid ran off. Bane wondered how pitiful he must look if Todo had laid back on the sarcasm for so long.

He pulled up the holomap. In front of him appeared an image of the Coruscant system. The Imperial blockades guarding the planet and their backup fleets. His eyes flickered and he tapped his fingers on the table, suddenly hoping Todo would get back sooner with the cigarettes.

It can't be. Too risky…

Quickly, Bane enlarged the map, revealing a detailed outline of the Imperial bases protecting the top levels of Coruscant. Barracks, arsenals, anti-aircraft artillery. Upon further investigation of the holomap, Bane discovered that the strongest military presence circled the Imperial Palace as a form of defense around it. A wall had been built around the area, forming a radius of roughly fifty miles heavily guarded. Of course, not surprising, the Emperor would want to make sure he was the safest person in the galaxy. Even though he needed the least protection.

Knowing he would later regret it, Bane activated the holomap. It showed a stimulation of the battle plan, Operation Daybreak. He saw the rebel fleet break through the Imperial blockades, down to the planet. Circling the Imperial palace before it was destroyed.

You've got to be kidding me. General Amidala, you've gone insane.

He shut it off. His worst worries had become real. The armies planned to launch a full scale invasion of Coruscant.

He had been in charge before. Led other criminals on missions, the hostage crisis of the Senate building being the most infamous. But this was different. He was leading soldiers now. He was in war now, fighting for revenge.

And the stakes were high. Vader and Ahsoka would be there to engage the rebels. He couldn't let himself think about that important little detail.

"Ready for the debriefing, Captain, sir?" a small voice asked from behind him.

Ever since Mustafar, Bane was more prone to being startled easily. He jumped and turned around, clenching his mechno fist to calm himself down.

"Yeah! Just a couple more minutes." He looked at the soldier who had just nearly scared the shit out of him. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Sergeant Korla, sir."

He stared. Her markings. Her lekku…no, montrals. This was a Togruta.

"You look awful young to be a sergeant," he said, unaware of the cruelty in his tone of voice, and the subsequent hurt in her eyes.

"I'm sixteen, sir. And I'm far from the youngest to join the rebellion. My sisters are thirteen and eleven, and they work in the medbay, sir." Korla stood a little taller and puffed out her chest.

But he didn't hear her anymore.

Her skin was the same shade of deep orange as Ahsoka's. Her montral stripes were strikingly similar as well. As for facial markings, he saw a clear difference…pale crescents that shaped up over her eyes, down to her upper lip, and curves up either side of her forehead, and the middle of her nose.

This wasn't Ahsoka. But the resemblance was enough. More than enough.

Little bit…

Her eyes, once sad but sweet, reflecting the flames of Mustafar. Her lightsaber glowed inches from his neck. He felt the blade cut through his muscle and bone. Slice down his back like a knife through hot butter. He heard his own screaming.

"Captain…are you all right?"

Ahsoka. The girl who gave him a second chance to be a better person, then snatched it away. The girl who melted his heart only to stab it. His friend, his biggest mistake, his burden, and his dying light.

He could not stand looking at the young Torgrutan named Korla but he was unable to look away. His lungs ached and he realized he had stopped breathing. Clutching his hat, backing away to reach for something to hold onto.

"Sir…?"

Bane took a deep breath. Not on Mustafar. On Naboo. You're fine. You're fine…

"I'll…be with the company in a minute." He tore his gaze away from her. "And Sergeant? Is there anywhere in this fucking city where I can find some decent cigarettes?"

"Y-Yes, sir. I can send a scout to find some for you right away."

"You do that. And get out." Once again, unaware of how cruel he sounded. And after he had calmed down and looked over the map one more time, he pulled his jacket on and straightened his hat. He lit a cigarette Todo offered to him and finished smoking it before lighting another, and heading for the meeting room. Headquarters were quiet this time of day. But it would not be like that for long.

Bane stepped to the front of the room. Not a sound from the whole company. Slowly the captain made his way onto the platform, a large holomap in front of him. Two hundred faces looked to him. The faces of the people now depending on him for leadership. He dared not ask himself if he was ready for this much responsibility. All he could ask was how many cigarettes it would take him to get through the day.

And the single question echoed across Hurricane Company, First Battalion. The entire Ami Dala army and their allies, Buurenaar. Are you ready for Operation Daybreak?


Ahsoka sensed the rebels' arrival long before anyone could see them.

Long before the night sky of Coruscant lit up with explosions from the anti-aircraft missiles. Long before the searchlights stretched into the sky, and the sirens alerting civilians rang throughout the levels. Long before the roar of the ships cut off the peaceful life of Coruscant's people, and screams filled the city.

While the planet was still caught in serenity, the city abuzz with the glow of nightlife, Ahsoka's connection to the Force pulled her back to a sense of dark foreboding. Everyone was convinced that tonight would be like every other night, dancing and partying and celebrating the young Empire…but Vader's apprentice felt it.

Part of helping to lead the Empire meant that she had to make public appearances now and then alongside Vader and the Emperor. They hosted a large banquet in the main hall of the Imperial Palace that night. T three had to dress formally for the occasion, as all of the Empire's elites would be there, as well as the most important representatives from the Core Worlds. Political agendas aside, Vader reminded Ahsoka they had to show the public their faces now and then so they seemed attractive and trustworthy. All part of making the Empire look better.

Ahsoka could not take her eyes off Vader's black suit and robe, his long hair neatly combed back, making him look like a prince brought up in royalty from birth. A lie, she knew. The truth could not be farther from it.

But it made for a pretty lie.

Her dress…black, silky, and extra tight…felt itchy and uncomfortable. But she couldn't pull at it or she would look too 'unprofessional.'

So for hours, as the Force pulled at her threads to warn of what was to come, Ahsoka managed to wander around the hall and be as good of a host as she could be. Which amounted to little, she realized. She had forgotten how to address guests properly, and followed her Master around like a lost puppy. Watching everyone around her laugh and talk and eat and drink, like everything was fine and nothing bad was going to happen very, very soon.

Eventually, Ahsoka resorted to just smiling and letting the men kiss her hand. She could play the 'spoken when only spoken to' type, she supposed. All the while, the aching horror lingered. Something coming.

Too stressed to eat, she finally got the chance to slip away for some fresh air out on the balcony. Ahsoka took a deep breath and, noticing she was alone at last, scratched at the dress to satisfy herself.

Made her miss the days she could just walk around in an oversized tank top all the time.

The approaching threat. The horror mere hours away. Dread poisoned her body until she felt as if her blood was turned to black oil, her skin paper waiting to be burned out. Every soldier and civilian who would not be alive within hours pulling at her nerves, their screams pounding against her skull. The weight of those about to die crushing her small form.

It was much like Order 66 all over again.

And she thought back to when she had grown up in this building that was once the Jedi Temple. When she lived on Coruscant's streets alone, in a cheap apartment, struggling just to get by. She remembered the small treats she had given herself to celebrate the small victories, like a hot cappuccino for making rent. These days, she never treated herself anymore. She did not deserve it. But she had her Master back, unlike those days filled with loneliness. So much had changed.

What would this war leave in the aftermath? What would the rebellion lead to? How many would be killed before daybreak, and how many more before the next nightfall? The numbers felt so high in the Force's warning that she could barely count them.

How many would Vader force her to kill with her own hands?

Barriss had only been the first, she realized. The nightmare had just begun.

There is always death, Snips.

She shut her eyes and let the tears roll down her cheeks as she looked out to the city. Then, holding her breath, she made her way back inside to find Vader and tell him what was going to happen, even though she knew he must feel it even more strongly than her. Music played by the orchestra swelled behind her, and the guests coupled up for the dance. They all seemed so happy. How she wished that she could fly away from all of the suffering, as much as she knew she deserved it.

Somewhere along the way, her wings…her only chance to fly away…had been burned away from her. Leaving her trapped in this never ending, living hell. Burning her alive.