Chapter Fifty

Breach


Space Station Gimmix, Outer Rim, 33 days after the execution of Contingency Order 66.


"You do know it's rude to stare, yes?"

The inflection in Britani's tone gave away her teasing, but Derik knew his face was heating as he – once again – averted his gaze from where Britani sat in a meditative pose. It didn't help that there was little else in the run-down galley to look at or otherwise occupy himself with. He and Britani had arrived at the galley where they were to meet with their companions a full ten minutes early, but it was now 1105, and not a sign of either of them. He couldn't help it if his eyes consistently wandered to the beautiful young woman sitting serenely on an old wine crate across from him, with a heart-stopping smile on her face-

He grimaced and looked away as he realized his staring was again responsible for her wry grin. Willing himself not to get 'distracted' this time, he corralled his wandering eyes back to the empty eatery, though with a half smile of his own on his face. I'll never know how she can meditate and tease me at the same time.

The sound of footsteps echoing up the corridor drew his attention and a sigh of relief from Derik. Ten minutes wasn't late enough to cause alarm, but it wasn't like former officers of the Jedi and GAR to be anything but punctual. Britani quickly rose to her feet, and they both turned to await the imminent arrival of their comrades.

Derik felt a spark of surprise when Rex appeared first, running at a fast clip, and that surprise quickly became confusion when Ahsoka failed to follow close on the clone captain's heels.

"Rex," he greeted, moving to meet the man, who had by now stopped running and was glancing hurriedly about the galley. A muted sense of alarm began to build within Derik as he questioned, "Where's Ahsoka?"

Rex met his gaze, worry and concern etched so deeply into his face he looked even older than his accelerated aging could account for. His voice was tense, and there was something akin to demand in his response. "She's not here?"

"We were here ten till eleven hundred, and we haven't seen…" Derik stopped talking as Rex spun on his heels and would no doubt have disappeared from sight within seconds, except for Britani's interrupting him.

"Rex, wait, I know where she is."

The clone turned again, his chest heaving from what couldn't be mere exertion, and his face belied his conflicting desire to wrench the knowledge he desired from anyone that had it – a sentiment Derik knew all too well – and his inbred professionalism and respectfulness. Everything about Britani's voice was calm and reassuring, which could only serve to counteract the panic that must have been building within Rex.

"Where?" he asked, approaching the Jedi again. "Where did she go?"

Britani paused, no doubt considering her words. "Well, I'm not sure exactly where in the station, but I sensed her. She's with Bane."


Despite her resolution to stay cool and calm, Ahsoka couldn't help a shiver of apprehension as a final door opened with a hiss, revealing a room so dark it could have been empty space for all she could tell. Her eyes struggled to compensate for the lack of light, and she could barely make out the glow of a console display on standby. The combined scent of alcohol and t'bac was ridiculously strong, but she forced back any signs of being disturbed by the odor.

Bane suddenly moved forward, and in two steps almost vanished inside the den, his spacer's coat trailing behind him. Ahsoka took a deep breath, and followed. As she stepped over the threshold into the darkness, the door slid shut behind her with a resonating clang.

Stay calm, she cautioned herself again, though she couldn't help rubbing her hand against her lightsaber hilt for some reassurance. No offense, Britani, but I don't think I'm taking aggressive negotiations off the table.

"Well?"

Bane's voice cut through the darkness with an edge that was much too close to antagonistic. Her eyes having had a chance to adjust by now, Ahsoka could just make out the Duros's lean form as he leaned back in an old bucket seat beside his desk. The gloomy den consisted of several workstations strewn about large stacks of equipment and console screens, most of which leaned heavily in varying degrees of precariousness. Bane's seat was swiveled to face her, with his back obscuring the main console that she had noticed earlier.

Satisfied with her situational awareness, Ahsoka took a deep breath, and hoped her voice wouldn't fail her now. "I don't suppose you could spare a chair, could you?"

Bane's only answer was silent glare. Ahsoka was about to kick herself for asking when the bounty hunter rose to his feet, stalking away somewhere in the dark office. A loud, grating screech of metal against metal rang out as Bane shoved a similar concave-style seat towards her.

Wincing from the painful ringing in her montrals, Ahsoka managed a quiet "Thank you" before dropping into her seat, as Bane did the same. The chair was much too large, and she knew her petite figure must have looked even smaller by comparison. She sat facing him, not quite within arms' reach of each other but plenty close enough for one on one conversation.

"We both know why I'm here, I guess."

It wasn't quite as telling or pointed as she would have liked to begin, but that observation didn't really bother her anymore. In fact, maybe it was better this way, rather than trying to live up to artificial standards of propriety or sageness. This was herself, it was honest, and that was more important than projecting a powerful image.

"You know you really shook me up during our last… chat," she had to resist rolling her eyes. But perhaps giving Bane some credit would help ease the tension.

"The things you told me, about your… 'perspective' on the Jedi and the clones and the war, I think a lot of them are actually not far from the truth. We did a lot of things wrong, and we allowed ourselves to be pressed into roles we weren't equipped for. We… we lost our way. People suffered as a result."

Ahsoka took a deep breath, knowing that she was steadily pushing limits she wasn't even aware of. Her gaze had been steadily dropping as she spoke, but now she looked up to face Bane. Her eyes had better adjusted, and she focused on the red slits that glared at her from out of the darkness.

"To be blunt, Bane, you're a criminal. You don't seem to have a problem with hurting or killing innocent people yourself if the price is right. And yet, even you can see that some of the things the Jedi did were wrong."

"I said no such thing," Bane interjected, his voice hard and bitter but not exactly loud. "I make no moral judgments, Jedi. Foolish, idiotic, pathetic, yes, but I never said 'wrong.'"

He was evading her point. Ahsoka could tell that easily, even without attempting to read his emotions. She arched her brows as she responded, "Then why did you bring it up the last time we talked?"

Bane blinked, twice. If it were possible, his glare became even colder, but it was obvious he knew he'd been caught. Ahsoka saw her opening, and she was nothing if not decisive.

"Why?" she repeated. "Why should you care if the Jedi were hypocrites? You clearly don't care for the clones, why would you accuse us of using them like we did? Why would the inconsistencies of a 'herd of mystics' tick you off?"

She paused for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, failing, and pressing on anyway. "The very fact that you respond so forcefully tells me a lot, you know. It tells me that you're not as cold as you think you are. It tells me that there's something to you that you don't realize."

"Maybe I'm just fine with it staying that way!" Bane snapped, finally stirring from his slouch and sitting upright. "I'm not interested in self-discovery, I have work to do. If you have a point, then cut to it."

He's getting edgy again. I've got to give him a bit of space. "Right, okay," she responded with a slow nod. "You're right. Maybe you are fine the way you are. I can't make you do something you aren't willing to do. It's your life, and you have a right to make your own decisions. Without others forcing their will on you."

The last sentence was spoken meaningfully, with her eyes firmly settled on Bane's, her words enunciated with precision and determination, and a bit of what she somehow recognized as compassion. She saw Bane's posture go stiff, and yet he didn't interrupt or try to evade her advance, so she pressed on.

"I know it bothers you, Bane. I can tell. You try to deny it, because the one thing you value more than money is power. Not political or military power, but the power of your mind. You're strong-willed. In fact," she tried to chuckle but it was weak. "You should be proud. It took three of the most powerful Jedi in the Order to break you."

She wasn't sure if it was audible or not, but Ahsoka could have sworn she felt a snarl from Bane in response to the halfhearted attempt at humor. That probably wasn't the best tack. Well, here goes nothing.

"The one thing you fear the most is losing that power. It's so important to you, that you refuse to believe it could ever happen. You've conditioned your mind to believe that there's no way someone could do that to you."

She saw Bane bristle at her only partially speculative assertion, and she knew that what she'd suspected was right. Cad Bane was caught in his own trap. His trauma sprung from his stubborn refusal to accept that he could ever have been placed in a position of absolute weakness, no matter what reality threw his way.

"But it's true, Bane," she insisted. "What happened at the Temple, it is reality. You couldn't resist. You were overpowered, pure and simple. It was wrong that it was done to you, but it is a fact. You're not invincible, no one is. And you have to accept that if you want to move on."

Still no response. Bane's gaze had actually lowered, and he seemed to be scowling at her folded hands. Unsure what - if anything – that signifed, Ahsoka trusted that his silence only meant her words were in fact striking home; whatever that meant for someone like Cad Bane. She scooted to the edge of the seat, bent forward with her elbows over her knees and her hands open before her, extended towards him.

"You can't hide from the truth forever. It always finds a way out. The Jedi learned that the hard way. Eventually your lies, to yourself or others, catch up, and everything comes undone. And when you try to tell yourself or someone else otherwise, you start the whole cycle over again. It's like a prison, and only the truth can set you free."

Bane did respond now, his eyes still locked on her open hands, his voice guarded and cold as carbon ice. "I didn't ask for freedom."

She took a moment to answer, but the words came to her without a second's thought.

"In your own way, you did."


Rex forced himself to breathe, or something akin to it. He felt dazed as he stumbled towards the nearest table, vaguely noting that Derik was helping him settle into his seat. Some part of his mind told him he should say 'thank you', but he wasn't listening to it.

Sitting helped, though not enough. What he really needed was to smash something, to put his fist through a wall or table or anything until it struck something so hard it hurt like hell for at least a week. Not exactly the most rational remedy, but it helped.

But he didn't do that. Instead, he breathed, deeply, trying to quell the overwhelming urge he felt to rip the station to shreds until he had Ahsoka back in his arms.

"She's alright, Rex."

Matalis – Britani, that is, was talking to him. Although to be frank, he didn't feel like listening to a Jedi right now, he did realize that they were also his best link to Ahsoka for the moment. The realization caused his mind to clear almost immediately. He turned to face Britani. "Where is she? Can you tell where they are?"

The Jedi frowned a little. "Not exactly, but somewhere deeper in the station. She didn't tell you she left?"

Rex forced back a scowl, the flicker of irritation disappearing quickly. Yes, he wished Ahsoka would have told him first, but what purpose would that have served? If anything, he would have regretted his earlier decision, and might have attempted to change her mind, or withdraw the approval that she seemed to value so much. He would have made it harder for both of them had he known she was leaving to confront the bounty hunter. As much as it hurt, Ahsoka's decision was probably the wisest one.

He sighed as he answered, "Actually, yes. She told me last night." His gaze dropped to the table as he brought a hand to his brow, noting it was slick with sweat. "I didn't realize she was planning to meet with him this soon, that's all."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, and then felt the light weight of Britani's hand on his shoulder. "Ahsoka is a strong young woman, Rex," she spoke softly. "You two seem very much alike, in fact. You should be proud."

Should be. That's the trouble. All I am is a nervous wreck when it comes to her. It's either that or I'm a weight that slows her down. He sighed again, shrugging off Britani's hand. I guess I'd rather be a wreck than a dead weight.

Britani was speaking again, and out of deference Rex raised his head enough to regard her. "She cares for you more than you know, Rex. I know this all confusing for both of you, but I can guarantee you there's no place Ahsoka would rather be than at your side."

Rex nodded without any real conviction. He wasn't quite sure that Ahsoka was that fixated on him, but it wasn't really his concern. Right now he was… Stang it. I don't even know. She can take care of herself, of course she can. We've been through this before. Why can't I just snap out of it?

"The best you can do for Ahsoka right now is trust her," Britani continued. Her voice was soothing, almost to the point where it frustrated Rex even more, as if some part of him resented being calmed. But the young Jedi continued speaking, "She's doing what she believes is the right thing for her to do, and all we can do is trust her judgement and have patience."

Patience. Yeah, that should be easy.

Gritting his teeth, Rex sat up straight, and expelled a heavy breath. "I know," he answered, his eyes still on the empty table, tracing the edge of some old stain across the worn and scuffed surface. "She… we've talked about this before. It's still… hard." He grimaced at his own ambiguity. And I thought Jedi were bad at communicating.

But perhaps the Jedi were also good at interpreting vague, unspecific statements. "I know," Britani responded with a sad smile. "It's always hard to let go."

The use of the phrase 'let go' had an unsettling effect on Rex, but he held his feelings in check. Britani was right, Ahsoka was capable, and independent, and all those other things that he knew so well. And though Rex had since learned there was no easy solution, that 'letting go' would never be any easier for either of them, he knew that he'd take whatever the greatest Sith in the universe could throw at him, even for the brief flicker of time they'd shared together in this new, strange and dark galaxy.

But he'd fight till the bitter end to make it last.

"Rex?"

Britani's voice was a bit louder this time, and suddenly Rex realized she had been telling him something while he was still brooding. "Sorry," he sputtered, "What's the problem?"

The young woman smiled. "Nothing, I was saying that, with a little help from Derik, I should be able to stay aware of Ahsoka's activity. It won't be much, but we should be able to gather something of what's going on over there."

"And in an emergency," Derik interjected, "We can always slice our way straight through to Bane's lair… tactfully, of course…" The dark-skinned Jedi's eyes danced between Rex and his fellow Padawan, who was making a strange face before rolling her eyes.

"Do try to keep your delusions of grandeur in check for at least a moment," she chided, before turning back to Rex as though to ask something.

"Please, go right ahead," Rex urged, anxious for any hint as to Ahsoka's situation. "And if anything does happen…"

Britani laid her hand on his shoulder again, speaking softly. "I understand. Have patience, Rex."


Cad Bane had been in some awkward situations in his time. In general, the surest way to recover was to eliminate the cause of his discomfort with a blaster bolt from the hip, occasionally taking down any bystanders within earshot for good measure. Messy, but it worked.

But that wasn't really an option here. This was all staged, just another shuffling on pieces in his master plan. He needed Tano to think he was serious, after all.

So he sat there, outwardly motionless and cold, but inside he was squirming like a swamp slug in acid. He couldn't even say why. All Tano to say was platitudes, cliches, meaningless drivel that wasn't worth giving a second thought.

Unfortunately, despite his repeated self-assurances, it seemed he couldn't help giving it a second thought.

And then some.

And to make matters worse, the Jedi kept talking, giving him no space to even try to think over the things he didn't even want to think about at all. But that didn't matter, it couldn't matter, because it was all part of the scheme. He needed to get a hold of himself. This was easy, of course it was. All he needed to do was play along.

"I've hinted at this before, Bane, but I'll try to be clear here. I'm sorry, not for you, but for what we did to you. In the grand scheme of things, it probably seems silly to even care about it now. But it's not, because it's important to me, and to you too."

It wasn't, but he couldn't say that. He had to go along. This was all part of the plan, all under control.

"But an apology isn't worth a lot, in the final analysis. Especially not when I know that I can do something to make things right. You can think of me as weak or gullible if you like, but I'm not going to hide from the truth."

For kriff's sake, why couldn't she just leave of the philosophy and get to the frakking point?

"I'm offering… no, I'm asking you to give me a chance to help you."

On second thought, perhaps a bit more of the posturing wouldn't have been so unwelcome after all.

"I can't erase the past," she continued, with enough earnestness to be ludicrous, "but I can help to settle your mind. I can help you come to accept what happened, and put it behind you. I can show you how to break free from the fear and the confusion."

Typical Jedi ambiguities. If only he could just force himself to treat them as such. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all-

"I won't force you, Bane. This has to be your choice. I've told you my perspective, what I feel about all these things. I don't know that you have any reason to trust me at all, but I'm being honest with you."

And he'd be damned if he believed her. To make matters worse, it seemed he did. And he had to stop doing so at all costs.

"Will you let me, Bane? Just this once, will you trust me to help you find freedom?"

No. No. This was too far. He couldn't let this go on. Nothing, no reward, no pride, not even revenge was worth this price. He had to make this stop, make her stop, make the voices and hands stop, make everything just stop.

"It's your choice, Bane. This has to be your decision." She sighed, sounding disappointed for reasons Bane had no idea. "You don't have to make up your mind now, I can-"

"No," Bane growled, trying desperately to keep his voice steady. "I already made my choice."

Tano froze, a slight cloud of alarm crossing her face for the first time since she followed him her.

It wasn't quite fear, nor did it last more than a second, but it was as close as he figured he'd get. Bane stood, towering over the young Jedi, and his shadow should have blanketed her in his imposing likeness.

In the darkness, however, shadows had no effect. Without the barest trace of fear, or aggression, or anger, Ahsoka Tano defied him, mocked him, by nothing more than her serene presence, and quiet words. In the blackest night she was a beacon of… of something Cad Bane couldn't comprehend, but that some deep, dormant part of him recognized.

The realization should have horrified him. But it didn't. The words he had planned to say deserted him, the curses vanished into the recycled air, and Bane was all but at a loss. He should have stood his ground. He should have put her in her place.

Instead, Cad Bane made what had to be the single biggest mistake in his long and eventful life.

"Fine. Just get it over with already."


Britani fell into a meditative state with ease, freeing her mind of the ordinary and the mundane and letting the Force run its way through her being. Whispers, echoes of events past and things to come whistled by her, staying only for an instant before being swept away. She felt the eddies and whirlpools that marked the presences of others, now so few in number they seemed to disappear with the slightest hint of disturbance.

The presence by her side, with one of her hands in his own, was actually part of the reason she was so fully focused. Derik sat beside her, his own concentration focused upon her – not exactly a challenge for the young man – and allowing Britani to draw from the strength and vitality of his own aura. It was not unlike standing upon another's shoulders, as the natural solidarity of Derik's signature acted as a steady base for Britani's otherwise weak and sometimes inconsistent Force senses.

It wasn't the first time she had been forced to rely on the strength of another in order to meet her goal. Master Drake had all too often lent his own power to assist his apprentice in her struggles and limitations, though he spent as much time working to build up her confidence. For as often as Britani practiced her meditation, she had to admit she did not always succeed in achieving that coveted state of serenity and awareness that came so easily to most Jedi.

But right now Britani kept her focus aimed towards her new colleague, and new friend. That, and their ignomous benefactor and dubious host, Cad Bane.

It was not difficult to sense them, with Derik's added strength allowing her to project her feelings with greater effectiveness than she normally could have. Ahsoka and Bane were not far removed from them, physically, though other than a general sense of direction Britani could not tell exactly where the two were.

She could feel the conflict between them, however. She could sense Cad Bane's cold, calculating suspicion, his bitter pragmatism. He was so guarded it was all but impossible to gather much more from his presence. Above all else he reeked of deceit, of mistrust, and even pain.

Ahsoka was an open holobook by comparison. Her feelings were easily read; from the unwavering commitment to her task, to her genuine earnestness and honesty as she made whatever argument she was at the moment. She was calm, though not without caution; confident, but not proud.

And between these two opposites was the ripples of tension and of indecision, as they engaged each other in a war of words and wills. Once, twice the cold shell that was Cad Bane advanced, only to withdraw without rebuffing the gentle but persistent prodding that Ahsoka brought to bear upon him. She wasn't using her abilities for persuasion, yet she was open to its leading, and her words, though Britani could not hear what was said, seemed to be flowing as freely as the Force itself.

Britani smiled inwardly, a shiver running through her as the Force responded to Ahsoka's efforts. The younger Jedi's presence seemed to glow from within with energy, and yet it seemed she was completely unaware of the power she was exuding. Britani could not help but marvel at the strength of Ahsoka's signature, which far exceeded her own and even Derik's, but was wielded with care and wisdom beyond the young Jedi's years.

It was inevitable that something would have to give way. Either Bane would reject Ahsoka's proposition forcefully, and withdraw, or he would have to somehow accept. Despite her admiration of her fellow Jedi's control and effort, Britani couldn't help but find the latter option incredible. It simply didn't seem possible that someone as cold and isolated as Cad Bane could ever trust another being for anything, let alone to perform any 'magic' on his own mind. And how could Ahsoka's appeals to her own conscience, noble as they might be, have any sway with a criminal without such a thing?

It must have been one of the secrets of the Force, that it tended to act when disbelief had reached its height in the doubting spectator. Scarcely had Britani coalesced her own concerns in her mind, when she felt the barrier give way. It was not a full collapse, merely a breach, a crack in the shell that was the cold, whithered aura of Cad Bane. It was small, reluctant, bitter, but it was real.

Britani almost gasped with surprise and wonder. "She did it."

"Did what?"

"Brit? What happened?"

She opened her eyes, an unbidden smile on her face as she came rather abruptly back to the present. Derik and Rex both watched her with anxious and confused expressions; even her fellow Padawan had been largely ignorant of drama across the station that Britani had witnessed.

"Ahsoka," she said, still unable to cease smiling with amazement. "She… she did it. She broke through, somehow. I don't know what happened exactly, but the bounty hunter dropped his shields, he's opened up to her somehow."

Derik looked at her in surprise, a degree of tentative hopefulness on his face. Rex looked mostly more confused than ever, clearly unable to make sense of the admittedly vague news. "Trust me, Rex," Britani tried to assure him. "We'll find out exactly what happened soon, but for now, know that Ahsoka has done something truly amazing. Something has changed for the better."

Rex nodded, still frowning some, but he also exhibited a hopeful expression. "I'll take your word for it." He grimaced before asking, carefully, "Is she…?"

Britani gave him an understanding smile. "Not yet. I think she still has something left to do. Derik," she turned to her companion. "Try to concentrate on Ahsoka, this time. We need to help her as best we can."

Derik nodded, still looking a little bit uneasy with the prospects but willing to help. Rex glanced between them awkwardly. "I'm no Jedi," he mumbled, sounding perfectly helpless. "But if there's… well, if there was anything I could do…"

Britani turned to face the former Captain with a compassionate word on her tongue, then stopped. She hadn't intended to intrude upon Rex's emotions, and she really hadn't done so. To say the worried man was 'projecting' would have been an understatement.

In fact, to call him 'worried' was an understatement in its own right.

She wouldn't call herself a 'romantic' by any means – and she knew some would contest that point – but there was no helping the catching of her breath as she looked into the eyes of the hardened clone officer, and sensed the depth and strength of feeling behind them. He looked to Britani as a channel, the only link he had – for the moment – to the person he cared for more than life itself. There was trust, devotion, commitment in his earnest gaze. And there was frustration, the near desperation of a man with no means to help the woman he… he loved.

Yes. Love was the only word to describe it.

Blinking back the water pooling in her eyes – Alright, so maybe I am just a bit of a romantic – Britani held up a hand in a beckoning motion. "Come," she instructed, quietly. Rex hesitated, but approached, with some incredulity on his face. She gave him another smile. "Have patience, Rex. And have faith." She motioned towards a spot on the crate beside her.

"You may be able to do more than you think."


Author's Note: Whew, it's back! :) Thanks for your patience.

I hope you all can follow along with these new developments - this is a key section of this story. Things are beginning to come to a head...

Also, I may skip updating this Monday as well, since it is the day after Christmas and I'll have guests to entertain (and I'm assuming many others will be in a similar situation). But I'm not above succumbing to popular opinion... (that's a hint :P) If I do skip this Monday it should be the last time I do so - I fully intend to return to bi-weekly updates.

Thanks to all my reviewers: Admiral Dalla, Jess Marylin, laloga, Queen, kiyohunter, Hoenn Master, Etain-Skirata, Starcrier, Sarge1995, witchcoven, DoubleEO, and helljumper09. You guys all rock! :)

EDIT: The year really snuck away from me, this time. I completely forgot to wish every one of my readers a merry Christmas, and a happy new year for good measure! So, merry Christmas! And a happy new year. I hope each of you has a blessed holiday season, and I look forward to the day when "the wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on Earth, goodwill to men."

Please review!