Chapter 35: Fulcrum

From within the cabin he and Ezra shared when they visited the Ghost, Kanan meditated. Or, he tried to. His first hour of meditation had been like a reprieve as his mind sunk gratefully into the numbness of the void. There, he'd focused on calm. On peace. On taking himself away from the many thoughts and distractions that threatened to highjack his mind and send him spiraling into nightmare fantasies. After what he'd seen in the temple, that first hour of mediation felt pure. He felt purer than he'd felt in a long time.

Then the worry crept in and shook his careful purity apart.

With a sigh, Kanan opened his eyes and expanded his Force sight so he could see the rest of the cabin. For hours now he'd struggled trying to regain that meditational purity, but with no luck. Admitting defeat, he rose from his kneeling position and walked to his bunk and reclined back, staring at the bunk above his.

Ezra should be there. The boy's form should have radiated in his Force sight, but it didn't. Only empty space occupied that area because his apprentice was with the Grand Inquisitor, somewhere. Both Ezra and Sabine.

And his scythe.

The cold slide of fear rolled over him, as it had countless times already, and Kanan breathed through it, waiting for it to pass. Ever since Hera had confirmed that the kids were missing, this fear and a multitude of other emotions kept swamping him. Anger. Worry. Guilt. Ezra was out there, and as his master, Kanan should be out there right now. Saving him.

But no matter what he and Hera and the others tried to find the kids, they were coming up with nothing. And he could feel in the Force that time was running out.

The desperation growing in his chest made him quietly crave the heat of his scythe, as nauseous as the very idea of it made him feel. It would've felt great to just give his emotions a place to go. To empty himself out so he could think clearly again. So he could focus and finally come up with a plan or solution to this problem.

Kanan hated himself for wanting the very thing which had caused all this. He hated himself for creating it in the first place.

But much as he wanted to, much as he ached to empty his emotions and just … not deal with them, the temple and what he'd learned there flashed through his mind, and he'd be reminded. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't.

Besides, Hera would probably murder him if he tried.

If Ezra and Sabine hadn't been on the line, Kanan didn't think he'd stop her.

Kanan let his body go limp. So much of his life was falling apart all around him. He'd lost himself for a while. He'd lost the Escape. He'd lost the scythe. His apprentice and Hera's crewmate. He'd lost the base.

What was next? Proxy? The Kasmiri? Rosie? Hera?

All things considered, he was surprised he hadn't lost her yet, though how he'd managed that was some miracle he didn't think he'd ever comprehend.

Force bless Hera. When he was frozen and lost, she got him moving. When he couldn't find a way forward, she found one. When he needed to be shoved around and made to see sense, there was no one better. Not even Ezra could do that, despite their years together.

Kanan loved her for that. For being stronger than him. For being everything he wasn't.

And that was why, despite his deep-seated desire to avoid this rebellion contact Hera was intent they speak with, he was going to go through with it. After all, how could he trust himself now? He'd messed up so much.

But he trusted Hera, and for once, he'd do it her way. What did he have to lose?

Idly, Kanan reached into one of the two small go-bags he'd gathered in the rush before abandoning the base. Familiar items brushed his fingers. Helmet. Mask. Thorilide carving. Holocron and lightsabers. Going completely by touch, he traced the lightsabers before slowly wrapping a hand around one of them, and pulling it out.

The kyber crystal inside it sang gently, and Kanan was surprised he could still hear it singing for him at all.

Sitting up, Kanan stared at the lightsaber in his hand. His old one. The one a different him from another lifetime had used to protect a galaxy. The one he hadn't used since Kasmir's death.

The weapon of a Jedi. The only weapon he now had, which could combat both the Grand Inquisitor and his scythe.

His heart squeezed at the thought of using it. Fingers traced the shape of his old weapon, the tips catching on every rise and fall, waiting and ready for him to take it in hand and use it again. Bothered, Kanan disassembled it into two pieces. Weighed them in his hands before reassembling it back into its whole. He broke it apart again.

Much as he knew this would be the only thing he could use to fight, when the time came, Kanan couldn't help but think he shouldn't use it. But he needed to use it to stop the scythe. But using it … it wasn't right. But it was the only way. But he still wasn't a Jedi, even if he'd survived the temple's trials.

Kanan looked at the two separate pieces of his old lightsaber and put it back together, but he didn't turn it on.

Kanan wondered if he'd be brave enough to turn it on, when the time came.

Gentle knocking summoned him from his thoughts and he put the lightsaber behind him on the bunk, out of sight. Then he stood and opened the door. Hera gave him a small smile before nodding toward the galley.

"Fulcrum is here to speak with us."

Though Kanan didn't show it, he was surprised. Surely he would've noticed the feel of another ship docking with the Ghost, let alone the presence of another person boarding. Had he been so wrapped up in his thoughts that his awareness had been affected that much?

Kanan took a deep breath, forced stillness into his hands despite the urge to run one of them through his hair to soothed his uneasiness. It wasn't just that he'd been caught unaware. Ever since Hera had told him she'd contacted this Fulcrum for help, he'd been torn. In truth, he wanted this meeting. If the rebellion could help them find Ezra and Sabine, help them save them, then he was willing to talk to just about anyone.

The bigger problem was that this Fulcrum would know who he was. That he was the Reaper, a truth he'd spent a great deal of time protecting. And now, he wouldn't be able to hide behind a mask anymore. He hadn't been able to save his Reaper armor or mask before the base exploded, not that, frankly, he ever wanted to wear it again. But this person, whoever it was, was going to find out about him. And short of avoiding the meeting all together, there was no way to avoid this.

But, given the turn of events which had taken place so rapidly, he was starting to think his secret wasn't something he'd be able to keep under wraps for much longer. He suspected he knew how the Empire had found the base, and if Kanan was right, he also knew it was only a matter of time before his name and his alias were stripped from him too.

Damn the scythe he'd created.

He supposed that if the Empire was about to find out his identity, the rebellion should also know. After all, he knew which he supported more, when everything was said and done.

"Alright," Kanan said at last. "Let's talk to your contact. Hopefully they can help."

"I think she can," Hera said. "At the very least, I think she'll be able to help us figure out a direction." She nodded down the hall. "Come on. She's waiting for us in the galley."

Frowning, he followed the Twi'lek. Better to get this over with.

When he entered the galley, he wasn't surprised to find Zeb leaning against the wall, ready for this meeting as much as any of them were. He gave a nod to Kanan when he entered, though in the Force he could still feel an edge of caution drift out from the Lasat. That was fair, and Kanan was even a bit relieved. Zeb was cautious of him. Wary. That wariness would keep him in check.

Keep him aware in case Kanan ever lost control again.

Kanan searched in the Force for the droids and found AP-5 in the cockpit of the Ghost, while Proxy and Chopper were busy fixing some damage the Kasmiri had received on their escape from Lothal. Rosie, thankfully, was still sleeping in his ship, and would be for some time to come.

Sitting at the Dejarik table, sipping a mug of steaming tea, was a woman. A Togruta woman.

At their entrance, she turned and stood, and Kanan restrained himself from turning his face away to hide his scars and blind eyes. He listened to the Force, waiting for the inevitable to reach him.

As he'd expected, surprise wafted from the woman, but Kanan was more surprised by how faint it was in the Force. Most emotional responses in people he met were much stronger than that. This … this had been considerably less. Almost controlled.

Too controlled. And that put him on guard.

Kanan studied her now, openly as the Togruta faced Hera and smiled as if they were old friends.

"Thanks for coming," Hera said gratefully next to him. "A lot has happened, and this conversation … I didn't think it was one we should have over a transmission."

"I agree, and I'm glad you reached out to me," the Togruta said in a calm, smooth voice, one Kanan focused on because he realized he knew it from somewhere. It tugged at the back of his mind like something familiar, and as he searched for the answer, he felt it. The Force. The Force in this woman, who was also carefully studying him, he realized, with the same growing curiosity.

Fulcrum turned her gaze to him, and though she didn't say a thing about his blindness, she said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Reaper."

A cold slither of discomfort squirmed down Kanan's back at the sound of his codename. He refused to let it show.

"Fulcrum."

"You'll forgive me if I say you're not what I was expecting," Fulcrum said, even as Kanan felt himself edging closer and closer to an answer. "I hope you'll forgive me a second time for asking the obvious question."

"I'm blind," Kanan said bluntly, even as he kept his eyes locked on the Togruta's. Her calm smile didn't waver.

"Impressive work, for a blind man."

Kanan didn't know what it was that triggered it. The sound of her voice, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself, but suddenly he knew. He did know this woman. He'd met her, long ago before the Jedi Purge. A name swept into his mind, one he'd known from another life, in training and stories attached to the great Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.

And what had happened to her before the end of the war.

"Ahsoka Tano."

Ahsoka blinked, surprise growing louder in the Force, before she gave him another look, one that abandoned all veiled attempts at probing and blatantly searched. Then her eyes softened slightly at the edges, her smile returning a little stronger.

"I do know you," Ahsoka Tano said, and Kanan could feel the Force ripple around her as she understood. "You're Caleb Dume."

Kanan frowned, but that was the only outward sign he gave at the sound of his old, dead name. Hera eyed him, and he could feel Zeb's curiosity burn like fire from behind him, but he ignored them both and focused on Ahsoka. "Caleb Dume died a long time ago. I'm Kanan Jarrus now."

The two powerful Force-users studied each other before Ahsoka finally said, "I see."

"I hope you do," he replied quietly.

"You two know each other?" Zeb asked as Hera put a hand on her hip to wait for answers.

"Yes," Ahsoka replied. "We were once a part of the Jedi Order together."

"That was a long time ago," Kanan muttered. "I'm not a Jedi anymore."

"Neither am I," Ahsoka added. "Regardless, it's good to see you survived. Not many of us did." A solemn tone crept into her voice as they all sat down. "We've been tracking you and the Rider for some time, hoping to finally have a conversation and invite you into the rebellion."

"I know," Kanan said, trying to move beyond the past and focus on the matter at hand. He gave a quick grin to Hera. "Hera's been persistent."

"I haven't brought up the rebellion in months," Hera countered, lifting a brow.

Kanan's grin turned roguish and teasing. Enough, he hoped, to fool them into thinking he was completely in control.

"It was my understanding that you chose not to join, though you've continued to work with Hera and her crew," Ahsoka said from across the table.

"I did," Kanan replied.

"Has something changed?"

Kanan eyed Ahsoka, weighing his words. "Didn't Hera tell you why we called?"

"Not exactly," Ahsoka admitted. "The transmission was only safe enough to tell me it was trouble with the Empire, and that it involved you, the Rider, and a member of Hera's crew, and that you'd both like to speak with me. I came in person to find out why, and perhaps find a way we can help each other."

"Perhaps there is a way," Kanan said, and Ahsoka's attention remained locked on him. "I want to make a deal. If you help me and Hera, I will join your rebellion."

"And the Rider?" Ahsoka asked. "Are you speaking on behalf of your partner as well?"

Kanan frowned and glanced at Hera, who returned the look. Then she addressed Ahsoka. "The Rider has wanted to join from the beginning. We've just been waiting for Kanan to agree."

"I see," Ahsoka said as she looked to the side, gathering her thoughts. She looked up, and there was focus there. "What do you need, Kanan?"

He licked his lips. "I need your help rescuing my apprentice, the Rider, and Hera's crewmate. They've been captured by the Empire. By the Grand Inquisitor."

Ahsoka's eyes widened, surprise echoing out into the Force.

"Your apprentice?"

Kanan nodded. "He's a Force-user too. He's powerful, and I've been training him to become a Jedi. I sense the Grand Inquisitor will do what he can to break him. Make him fall, and he'll kill Sabine in the process, I know it." Kanan sighed heavily. "Ahsoka, I can't let that happen."

Ahsoka's brow furrowed slightly as she considered what he'd said.

"This is troubling," she muttered under her breath. "What information do you have?"

"Only that they've been captured," Zeb provided with a wave of his hand. "We've been trying to find more, but everything's been hush-hush. The Grand Inquisitor, if that's who's got them, is doing a good job of keeping this quiet."

"It's him," Kanan said. "I saw it in a Force vision."

That caught Ahsoka's attention immediately. "You're sure?"

"I've never been more sure. And besides," Kanan said more sedately. "Right now Ezra's there, and you know how Master-Padawan bonds are. Also, the Grand Inquisitor … he has something that belongs to me. Something almost as strong. I know they're with him."

"You're asking for the rebellion's help finding them and rescuing them?"

"We're asking for whatever support the rebellion can provide," Hera agreed. "Can you help us?"

Ahsoka looked between them for a long moment.

"I believe we can help you rescue them," Ahsoka said. "The problem, however, will be locating them, where ever they're being held. Until we can locate them, there is very little we can do. What have you tried to find them?"

"Slicing, mostly," Hera replied. "Zeb and Chopper infiltrated an Imperial compound on Lothal to get what information we could, but couldn't find anything past that. We've had three droids working ever since, trying to dig up any leads, but nothing so far."

"We haven't bashed in any bucket heads yet," added Zeb. "But mostly we've been waiting for … unusual reports to indicate where they are. Mass murder. Beheadings. The Grand Inquisitor going insane. The like."

"Why would he go insane?" Ahsoka questioned curiously, and Kanan shook his head.

"The item he has that's mine? It can do those sorts of things," Kanan responded vaguely. "The point is, none of that's come up, and nothing's surfacing."

"Besides interrogating Imperials, all that's left is to try the grapevine. Reach out to our contacts. But honestly, I can't think of anyone who might have the answer we need," Hera added. "It all happened so quickly, I wonder if anyone outside of the Empire knows."

"I see," Ahsoka murmured, but that was when Kanan's mind cut out.

They had tried everything they could think of, and he agreed with Hera that most of their contacts wouldn't know anything. He doubted even Maz would, and she was as connected as they came.

But he could think of someone else who might.

"Actually … I think I have an idea," he abruptly said. "I might have someone who could tell me something. A … a friend."

Hera lifted a brow. "A friend?"

"Yeah," Kanan agreed, unwilling to say much more. "He owes me a favor, and he's usually tapped into Imperial matters. He might know something."

"How soon can you get in touch with this friend?" Ahsoka asked, and Kanan frowned as he considered.

"I don't know. Wait here. I … I might have an answer soon."

Both women stared at him, but he ignored them and walked back to his cabin and shut the door. Reaching for his go-bag, he frowned as he shifted through the items inside until his fingers closed around what he'd been searching for.

A very special comlink, meant to contact only one person.

He took a breath and said a silent prayer, before activating it with a flick of his thumb. Closing his eyes, Kanan waited for the signal to make its way across space. Though he hoped, Kanan didn't expect a response. Not for a while anyway.

And that meant Kanan was beyond surprised when, a minute later, he received a warning for an incoming transmission. His heart suddenly pounded in his chest as he thumbed the comlink again and brought it closer to his mouth.

"That was fast."

"Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting a call from you," Kallus replied a moment later. "After all, the Rider has been captured, along with a Mandalorian girl he's been known to associate with. The Grand Inquisitor appears quite pleased with himself. I'm sure you're concerned about that."

Kanan was in no mood for games. "What do you know, Kallus?"

A smug chuckle swelled from the comlink.

"What makes you think I know anything, friend?"

The bite there was unmistakable, and Kanan glowered as if it could make its way all the way through space.

"What do you want?" he gritted out, cutting to the chase. The smug tone in Kallus's voice vanished, replaced with unmistakable seriousness.

"You know what I want."

Kanan did.

"And you can deliver?" Kanan demanded.

"I swear on my life," Kallus said with cool pride. "And you of all people should know that is no lie."

Again, Kanan did. And that was the only reason he was continuing with this at all.

"Fine. If you tell me where the Grand Inquisitor is taking the Rider and the Mandalorian," Kanan growled into the comlink. "I will consider your debt to me absolved. I will never ask for a thing from you. I won't even contact you again. Just tell me where they are, give me the clearance codes needed to get where I need to go, and we are out of each other's lives. You have my word."

Silence met him from the other side of the comlink, and Kanan wanted to scream, to roar at the Imperial whose life belonged to him and demand he answer when Kallus's voice slipped back out.

"Mustafar," Kallus said with cool, precise words. "They're being taken to the Mustafar system. I'll send you clearance codes momentarily."

Kanan let the breath he'd been holding slip out, but he still narrowed his eyes at the comlink untrustingly. "This better not be a trick. You know what will happen if I find out you've set me up."

"I know," Kallus said just as coolly as before, but there was iron there in his words now too. "No one knows better than I do just how far your tenacity can take you. But I am a man of my word, as you well know. That is where they are. These codes will get you on board any of the three destroyers there which might be holding your companions. Now. Upon receipt of the codes, I am absolved of the debt?"

"Yes."

"Then check. I've sent them." Kanan picked up a datapad and fiddled with it until he found a small list of codes waiting for him. Closing his eyes, he gripped the comlink.

"They're received. Your debt is absolved."

"Then it's been a pleasure," Kallus replied smoothly. "You'll likely die there, so I expect this is our final chat."

Silence filled the static of the comlink, and Kanan took a deep breath. Mustafar. He'd heard so many terrible rumors about that place. Rumors that left little doubt in his mind that Kallus wasn't lying to him. More than likely, Kanan was positive he'd find his apprentice and Sabine there.

And if not, if this Imperial had lied to him and that lie cost Ezra and Sabine their lives, the Reaper would have one final kill to make before he fell to the dark side entirely.

But somehow … Kanan didn't think Kallus was lying.

Quietly, Kanan said, "Thank you."

From the other end of the comlink, Kanan thought he heard the faintest of chuckles before it clicked off and went dead.

Kanan sat in the turret, thinking over everything he, Hera, Zeb, and Ahsoka had discussed. If Kallus's information panned out — which he thought it would — they would be heading toward Mustafar.

Jedi or not, over the years Kanan had heard stories of Mustafar. That it was the place Jedi went to die.

And Ezra was there. With the Grand Inquisitor.

Kanan was glad Ahsoka had left some time ago to make arrangements with the rebellion for the aid they would provide for the mission. His grip on his emotions and Force expression wasn't as good as it was earlier, and more than ever he wanted to focus on something, anything, and pour his emotions into it.

Instead, he clenched his hands together in his lap and breathed through the urge until it faded again. He had to be patient. They knew where the kids were now, and they had support, even if Kanan felt a bit like he'd sold himself in the process. They had a plan.

He just hoped the plan panned out.

"There you are," a voice called up to him, and Kanan shifted his sight to find Hera below, waiting. "I've been looking for you. What are you doing up there?"

"Just thinking," Kanan admitted before he shifted out of the seat, then down the rungs to give her a roguish grin which hid his unease. He waggled his eyebrows. "So, you were looking for me, huh?"

"Just making sure you hadn't disappeared on me again," she replied evenly, though her tone relaxed a bit at the light teasing. "I'm still trying to get a feel on these new changes your showing, so until I figure them out, sorry if I keep an eye on you."

"Keep both eyes on me," he urged, teasing again though inwardly there was a plea. Her brow furrowed a little as if she'd caught that plea, and his demeanor cooled slightly in response. "It's probably better that you do."

"What do you mean?"

Kanan took a slow breath before releasing it out of his nose. When he didn't immediately reply, Hera looked over her shoulder before gesturing for him to follow.

He was relieved by the privacy her cabin provided them, when she turned into it, even if his mind was tempted to delve down a separate road entirely. After everything that had happened, especially with the kids in danger, the likelihood of anything physical happening was minuscule. Frankly, Kanan didn't feel up to it even if the opportunity for some intimate time with Hera did present itself.

Hera settled on her bunk and, with nowhere else to sit, he sank down beside her. For a moment, the silence between them grew thick, and he didn't know what to say. Hera didn't prompt him, only waited for him to broach the subject in his own time, and he knew he should. He knew he needed to.

He couldn't let himself become whatever he'd been. Not again. And the only one he could trust to stop him, it seemed, was Hera. She needed to know.

Kanan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees before clasping his hands and pressing his lips against them. Then, he spoke.

"While I was in the temple, I saw a lot of things."

"That's what you told me," Hera replied, edging the conversation, clearly waiting to see where he was going with this. "You saw people."

Flashes of his time in the temple crossed his mind, and the lingering ache in his chest returned. He took a jagged breath at the thought of it all, and wondered how much he'd be able to tell her right now. He wanted to tell her all of it. Chances were, in time, he would. But right now, it was still raw.

But he might be able to give her something. Perhaps the most important thing.

"Yeah. People from my past. Myself." Her eyebrows rose, and he chuckled at her. "Yeah, hard to believe, I know. I saw a Jedi Master. I saw … other things. But seeing them, and talking to them … I guess the best thing to say is that they balanced me out. I'm more … me."

"Open," Hera supplied, and Kanan gave her a small smile.

"Yeah. More open. I can see better now, what I did. How I got to the point I did. It opened my eyes."

She was quiet, waiting for him to continue, and he almost wished she'd say something. Anything, since it would give him a way to verbally weasel out of this conversation he realized now he didn't actually want to have. But as always, she had this sixth sense about her when it came to him, and finally he pushed the words out.

"I … I can't trust myself, Hera. I think I can, and I want to, but right now … I was aware while my scythe controlled my body. I saw what it did. I knew while it happened that … I'd done this. That by trying to separate myself from my emotions, I'd only made everything worse."

"You seem to be doing okay now," Hera pointed out. "You haven't had your scythe for days."

"You're right, and I know," Kanan said before he swallowed and said the hardest part of this. "But I've wanted it."

He could feel the cool touch of dread drag over the Twi'lek beside him, and his shoulders hunched slightly. "It's true, Hera. Even though I came out … better, even though I understand now … I still want it. It's what I put my emotions in, to separate them from me, so I could focus and think, and Hera—" Kanan ran his hands up over his face and through his hair, clenching his eyes shut. "The urge to do it again, to start over with anything has been hounding me. I've been doing this for fifteen years. I'm afraid I can't stop."

Kanan's last words were hardly a whisper, but they felt the most real. The most … baring, because they were the truth. He was afraid. For the first time in years, he could see clearly, but the desire, the itch to do what he'd been doing for so long, separate himself from his emotions … it was still there. The temple hadn't gotten rid of it. It was still a damned aching monster within himself, and he didn't want it anymore.

"You're afraid you'll fall back," Hera said quietly, understanding slipping into her voice. "And you don't want to."

"No," Kanan admitted, keeping his eyes shut. "I don't."

A soft hum carried from Hera's chest over to him, and it was so lovely and so soothing it made his chest ache painfully. The warm feel of a hand brushing over his tight shoulders made him flinch, but to his relief Hera didn't pull away.

"Come here," she said as she tugged at his shoulders and, to his surprise, she pulled him against her. Soon they were laying down, his face pressed into the crook of her neck as they held each other. Her hand swept up and down his spine, and though it wasn't the first time they'd shared space like this, he felt blessed and unworthy of it more than usual. He didn't deserve this kindness. How could this one woman be so … incredible?

"A part of me can't believe you're here," Hera confided in a soft murmur, pressing her head gently against his. "After I shot you … I wasn't sure I'd ever get to hold you again."

In the Force, Kanan could feel it. The truth of her words. The bittersweet ache that came with doing what had to be done and succeeding, and hating having had to do it in the first place. He felt her anger. Her relief. Both were there, and he doubted either would truly let up any time soon.

He felt something else there too, within the comforting press of her emotions. It was warm, and it curled around him protectively. It matched the growing warmth he'd been feeling in his own chest for a while now, and he held her tighter against him as his emotions started to swell in time with hers.

"I know it tore you up, but Force, I'm so glad you did that." Kanan clutched at her shoulder, holding her tight. "I'm so glad you stopped me."

"I stopped the Shade," Hera corrected as she smiled weakly. "And I did tell you I'd shoot you if you let that thing get out again. Remember? When it attacked me the first time?"

Dark humor as it was, Kanan couldn't help the small huff of amusement that escaped his lips before he closed his eyes and relaxed against her. "Yeah, you did."

Hera breathed into his hair. She squeezed him gently as she did. "Please, Kanan. Don't make me do it again."

Listening to her heart beat against his ear, feeling her warmth seep into him, calming him with each breath, he couldn't stop himself from responding.

"I won't," he promised, a ping of fear racing through his body as he said the words. "I won't."

He didn't know if he was lying or not. He was terrified he was lying to her. That he might accidentally create another monster. That it might overtake him the same way the scythe had. That his scythe might get to him again.

But though he was afraid, he realized there was something behind the promise that he hadn't had before, except with Ezra.

Conviction. He didn't want to break this promise to her, even though he knew he'd be tempted to. Even if the odds were against him.

He'd made a promise to Hera, and though he was terrified of his ability to keep it, he vowed he would.

A/N: So how was it? Did you like it? We're building momentum now, and from here on out things are going to keep on picking up the pace, and we're in for a wild ride as the showdown with the Grand Inquisitor and the scythe gets closer.

Now, for one of the bigger points of the chapter: Kallus. Does he feel like a giant lose string? A stray end? Like there's more there that could be dug up?

My friends, that is intentional. There is a potential sequel to Blackbird which revolves heavily around Kallus (which I'm considering doing some time in the future) and this is my opening for that. It won't be for some time (probably not until a while after Rebels season 4 is over so I can work out some plot points), but it's at least a possibility :]

Secondly, I've made an executive decision. There will not be any explicit sexy-times in this fic. When I started it, I thought I might include one, but I've decided not to. There might be a one-shot I could do at the end, if there's interest, but I think I'll simply imply sexy-times instead, if it happens in this story.

That being said, I'd like your opinion. I'm not great at rating my work, and I always aim high when I rate my stories. Right now it's at Mature rating, but I suppose it's possible that it could be lowered to Teen. The content — I've always thought — is pretty dark, and the addiction language is pretty strong at points, and that's nothing to say about the death which underscores the entire thing. What do you think? Keep it at Mature? Lower it to Teen? I'm happy keeping it where it is, but I'd hate to misrepresent Blackbird's content.

Anyway, I'd love to know what you thought! A lot's going to happen in the next two chapter, so hang tight. If you'd like, you can keep up with me and my stories on my tumblr (just search for my username).

So you know, we are at 35/39 (I added a chapter. I'm always adding chapters, it seems).