So, this chapter has a few… twists and turns. Well, one or two at least. So, enjoy this chapter and let me know your thoughts, feelings, general complaints (after all, the line between cliché and trope-y is very thin).

Zeffo, Outer Rim Territories

15BBY

Ving thrust his hand forwards and the last stormtrooper in the corridor soared backward, slamming their helmeted head into the thick, metal wall. He straightened up, smoothing back his light brown hair and breathing out in a short, forceful sigh. He wasn't as young as he was in the Clone Wars, that was for sure…

Walking forwards and taking care to step over the body, Ving approached the cell from behind the ray-shield. A human man, old and grey-haired. Ving recognized him immediately – of course – it was all so obvious now.

He picked up the dead trooper's belt and rifled through the small pouches until he found the key card. Sliding it into the slot in the panel, the ray-shieled ceased its humming and faded into nothingness. Ving approached the inmate and stared at him with quiet curiosity.

"What's your name?"

The inmate's tired blue eyes glinted up at Ving. His skin was wrinkled and beaten – dotted with scars like an old map with marked routes. The man's eyes closed and he turned back to stare directly ahead with quiet determination. He sat up straight, hands resting on his lap. The discipline of a soldier.

"The name you picked for yourself, I mean," Ving said, glancing over his shoulder to watch the rest of the inmates fight against their captors. "No-one wanted to make more of an… an individual identity than a clone," Ving nodded to himself as he looked back to the inmate. "How many of you are left?"

The man continued staring ahead. "Not many," he said, finally.

"I need your help, trooper."

"You seem to be managing well without me," he replied.

Ving frowned, walking from one side of the cell to the other, narrowing his eyes at the old clone. "Most troopers were designed to be obedient," he muttered, "and the chips should've kept you in line – what are you doing here?"

"Same as you."

"No, I came here to find you," Ving said casually, "well, not you but… you."

The Clone turned to look at Ving. "What do you mean?"

"The Force drew me here," Ving said. "I know about as much of it as you do."

"The Force?" the Clone stood up – his size was imposing, even though he looked to be approaching an elderly age. "You're a Jedi?"

"I was," Ving said, offering a hand. "Ving Ximara."

The man's eyes widened as he straightened up to look at him. "You're not the first fool I've come across to claim to use the Force…"

"I won't be the last," Ving nodded. "Allow me to prove my claims once we're-"

There was a loud whirr that echoed across the entire tower. Ving frowned, looking over the railing on the walkway to see the elevator was operational. A half-dozen troopers in black armour climbed into the elevator, but one man remained on the floor, surrounded by the sizzling remains of clone troopers. He recognized the man – clad in black with a side-cloak stamped with the Imperial insignia. High, metal boots, black leather gloves and a narrow helmet; gaunt cheeks, sharp chin and a narrow slit that revealed the corroded, burnt skin around the figure's yellow eyes.

"Well, that's less than ideal…" Ving murmured to himself as he looked back to the old Clone. "I have someone helping me – another Jedi."

"Another one?"

"A Mirialan," Ving explained. "He should be on the ground floor, trying to get the elevator back up and running."

"Sounds like he's done it."

"Not him," Ving said darkly, "Imperials are here. You think you can work with some of the other inmates – get us a ship out of here?"

The Clone stood up, examining Ving closely. He let out a small, frustrated grunt before walking across the walkway towards the handful of inmates. Ving stretched out his arms before vaulting over the railing and landing on the ground floor. He straightened up to see the elevator rising rapidly – the cloaked man standing in front of it.

"Ving Ximara," the man's voice sounded mechanical, coming through his mask.

"Lord Inquisitor," Ving replied, casually glancing around the room for something he could use as a weapon. "Is that your name, or a title?"

"My name is First Brother," he said.

"That's hardly better," Ving murmured, his eyes settling on a stray pipe that may have been used as part of the railing… "Did your mother and father have a poor sense of humour?"

"You always were one with the jokes…" First Brother growled as he began to pace. "Always had a response ready."

"And you'd know how?"

First Brother scoffed, moving a gloved hand up to his helmet. Ving's eyes drifted from the pipe as he waited for First Brother to reveal who he truly was.

Every sense, every voice in his head began screaming as he looked to see a heavy piece of the grated walkway close in quick upon him. Ving was thrown backwards through a doorway, rolling along the floor and feeling his limbs fling out wildly. He groaned and managed to stretch out a hand, steadying himself until he slid to a halt.

First Brother approached, stretching out a hand and summoning his lightsaber and its circular hand-guard into his hand.

"Oh, Ving," First Brother scoffed, "I'm surprised you didn't see that coming – perhaps the Force has lost favour with you…"

Ving coughed as he looked up across the floor to see a glint. The durasteel rings of a black curved hilt of a lightsaber. "I don't know…" Ving said, standing up and dusting down his legs, "I like my chances." He stretched out a hand and the hilt jettisoned to his hand. It felt strange – the curved hilt jutting against his palm. He moved his thumb over the switch and watched as First Brother breathed out and pulled at the clasp of his cloak and letting it fall to the floor.

Ving pressed down on the button and watched the green blade extend out of the emitter. First Brother responded by igniting his own red blade.

The two men launched at each other. Ving was quick, leaping and bounding in with sharp and swift strikes before retreating just as quickly. First Brother was wild, with each strike weighted with such strength, Ving felt as though his bones may break. Every parry and block sent Ving stumbling back.

Ving batted away First Brother's lunge and went to strike for his helmet when there was a second humming – the other side of First Brother's lightsaber had emitted a blade, blocking Ving's strike. He shoved his shoulder into Ving and swiped with a growl. Ving leapt across the room, letting First Brother's shove send him flying out of reach. He landed against the wall, looking up to see First Brother soaring through the air, lightsaber raised above his head. He brought down the blade as Ving rolled out of the way. The green lightsaber flashed wildly against the Inquisitor's face and sliced across the helmet.

First Brother fell back, cursing and howling in pain as he covered his face. The cloven, sizzling helmet dropped onto the metal floor with a clang. Ving looked up at the face of the man.

His skin was horribly burnt, but Ving recognized the man – or, rather, what was left of the man. He recognized the man's sturdy frame. His curt, clipped voice was familiar now. The strength of his blows, his fighting style…

"What happened to you?" Ving asked. The man looked up, his face contorting into the very image of rage. "I thought you were dead."

First Brother looked up at Ving. "And I wish you were…" he growled, reaching for his lightsaber. He swiped forwards at Ving, who reacted solely on instinct. The green crashed against the red and a moment later, First Brother was on the floor, clutching his elbow which was then nothing more than a smoking stump. He writhed in pain, snarling like a rabid cur.

Ving stretched out a hand and summoned First Brother's lightsaber, holding Ruv's in his right hand and looking down. He knew he should've felt anger or, perhaps something else for the man, but… well, all he felt was pity. Seeing the man on the floor, howling in pain and foaming at the mouth… it made him sad. To see someone so lost to the dark side. Just like the Jedi were lost to the light.

"I wish it were otherwise," Ving said, deactivating the green blade. "And I hope you heal your connection to the Force."

"I'm going to kill you," the man hissed.

"Maybe," Ving said calmly. "I know that… while we weren't friends and I always thought you a fool, I never thought you a bad person." Ving turned to see the elevator doors open and inmates flood out. "I'll try to remember you as you were, Cero."

So, that's it for this chapter! After this instalment, I'll be going back to my RDR series, so jump on that if you haven't already, I think it's my longest running series and I am still accepting characters (gang members, Pinkertons, lawmen, civilians, mobsters, moonshiners – we have several factions) so check that out if you're interested.

And, yes, my GTA story will be started in the near future, so stay tuned for that. Or don't - I'm not the boss of you. Anyway, next chapter is back to Corrin, Dax and Avethelia on Lokori. There's only about 8 more chapters left to this instalment and I'll try to push 'em out quickly for y'all.

In fact, I'll start another chapter right now!