AN: Oh my god you guys, my work has been a nightmare. Not much time to write. Also, I should say this, just because it made me had the feels. Every now and again, you write something and go, "Shit, I don't know, man...are people going to like this? Am I doing a good? What am I even writing for?" That was me this morning. Work stress plus no sleep plus oh my god I'M AT 80 HOURS AND ITS NOT EVEN FRIDAY YET. And then I got a really lovely review from an anonymous reviewer, and it just made my day. Just so you know, you guys mean a lot to me, I like writing things that you like, and I hope to keep entertaining you for a while to come. I read all your comments, and even though I don't respond NEARLY as much as I should, I really take that shit to heart. So thank you, my lovelies. Enjoy this one. Things are going to start getting all kinds of weird now!
Chapter 5: The Specters
Hera sat in the pilot's seat, her gaze fixed out the viewport at the calming blue and white of hyperspace, but she was not calm. Her shoulders were tense, she was exhausted, but sleep would not take her. She was far too worried to sleep, and she wondered if she's ever sleep again if the worst had come to pass, as she feared it may have. Nothing good ever came from going where they were headed, and while Hera always considered it baseless superstition, there was something wrong with the Bright Jewel system, a system in the Mid Rim that sat along intersecting hyperspace routes, which should have made it a hub for business, legitimate or not. It was dead, the entire system, and travelers went to great lengths to avoid passing through.
Ord Mantell was there, and Ord Mantell had burned, along with the four billion people living there. Hera had passed through once, taking a long route to avoid the extremely militant Empire in the sector, and while she didn't believe in the curse, it was eerie and unsettling to be so near a place where billions had burned to death. Even now, fifteen years after the disaster, the planet was still uninhabitable, the ground still smouldering and covered in ash, the seas still boiling, its numerous, previously extinct volcanoes actively erupting and filling the atmosphere with toxic gasses. This was a place where people went to die. There was no other use for Ord Mantell any longer.
Kanan and Ezra were there. Or, she had hoped they were there. Like the events at the Spire, this could have been a trap as well, a clever ploy using their tracking beacon to lure the remainder of the rebels to whoever it was that had set the trap for the Jedi and his apprentice. Hera had locked on to their signal a few hours after things had gone wrong at the Spire, and there had been no debate about whether or not they should be going. Everyone just knew what they had to do. Kanan would have done the same for any of them.
Everything had gone wrong the moment the sleek, black ship had shown up, an intimidating, beauty of a starship that looked hellishly fast, and Hera prayed wasn't Imperial. She hadn't gotten a chance to get a really good look at it, because no sooner had it circled around the fortress, it had disappeared, and Hera wasn't about to sacrifice the mission to get a look at a ship that may or may not be hostile. As it turns out, the ship was hostile, as the main hangar just above Hera's hidden position erupted in a ball of flames, showering debris and TIE Fighter scraps and bodies down to the ground below. Hera tried to contact her crew inside the Spire, only to find that communications had been jammed, and that was when the panic began.
Communications were reestablished when Zeb, holding Sabine tightly against his chest, had jumped from a hole that had been torn in one of the fortress' walls and landed on the forward viewport of the Ghost with such force that Hear was certain the transparisteel had been compromised. After getting the two safely on board and running the pre-flight checks to find the viewport wasn't damaged after all, the black ship left had backed out of the hangar and shot toward the stars, faster than Hear had ever seen a ship fly. The Spire's communications hub had been hopelessly destroyed, and with the jamming signal off-like, Hera attempted to contact Kanan and Ezra, the two Jedi still inside. Despite their best efforts, Zeb and Sabine had been unable to find them, though chaos erupted pretty quickly, and with a fortress-wide lock down in effect, traversing the Imperial compound was...ill-advised. Kanan could take care of himself. Everyone knew that.
But they didn't answer. They weren't even in range. Hera felt sick. This was her crew, her people, her family, and that made this her fault. But...it was too important to pass up, not just for her cause, but for Kanan personally, and the well-being of Kanan, Specter One, their fearless leader, was important to their success. And now, her good intentions had led to this. Kanan and Ezra, gone. Not inside the fortress somewhere, dead or captured, but gone, their comlinks registering as out of range. They could be anywhere, captured or worse, they could be-
No. Hera shook her head. They weren't dead. She couldn't allow herself to even entertain the notion. They were with a Jedi Master, Kanan had been certain he sensed her. They must have escaped on one of the Imperial ships that had left earlier, or on the black ship. Contacting them must have been dangerous, or impossible or...it didn't matter why, they were fine. They had to be. They had activated the tracking beacon so she could come and find them, and they were on the way, as fast as the Ghost was able. They'd be there soon. Soon. All there was to do now was stare at the lines of hyperspace and wait.
It was intolerable.
The cockpit doors slid open, and Sabine solemnly entered, seating herself at her own painted seat behind the copilot's chair, respectfully left vacant when Kanan should have been there. She looked over her shoulder behind her to the empty seat that was Ezra's, still new to the crew, but already like family, like she couldn't imagine him being anywhere else. Sabine sighed heavily. "Are we there yet?" the teen asked, and Hera leaned back and rubbed her temples, her already thin patience straining.
"Not yet."
Another heavy sigh from the Mandalorian, and Hera swivelled her chair around to face her, the girl lightly stroking the painted helmet in her lap. "...we need to talk." She paused, took a deep breath when the Twi'lek looked reluctant and unimpressed. "It's important."
Hera gave a long suffering sigh and rubbed her weary eyes. Sabine wouldn't waste her time, not when their friends were in danger. There was nothing to do other than wait anyway. "Does it have to do with Kanan?" she asked, and Sabine bit her lip and looked away.
"...it might." Now she had Hera's attention. The Twi'lek pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide awake and alert, her patience suddenly restored as she stared intently at the Mandalorian. "Zeb and I made it to the main hangar..." she said slowly. "Right when things were getting bad and we didn't hear from Kanan. We thought maybe he'd be waiting there with you." Her eyebrows drew together, suddenly very serious. "But we left very quickly. The hangar was in ruins, and the Imperials were too busy fighting a rancor to see us." She paused to shake her head in disbelief, ignoring the questioning look Hera was giving her. "A huge, horned white rancor, and it was eating them." She scoffed. "Good work, for a beast, but you can imagine that Zeb and I left in a hurry."
"A rancor..." Hera repeated, running her hand over her face. "How, exactly, did a rancor manage to get itself into the Spire?"
"...it came on a ship," Sabine said, quiet and thoughtful, her voice straining with barely contained excitement. "There was a black ship in the hangar. Luxury ship, not Imperial, black and red and made for speed." She whistled in admiration of the memory of it. "That is the ship that brought the rancor. I'm sure of it." She leaned in closer toward the Twi'lek. "It was the Shadow King."
Hera held her breath as she looked at the Mandalorian. Again with this mysterious rebel. The past few years had seen an increase in his activities, each effort bigger and louder than the last. The point, it seemed, hadn't been to cause damage, as not all of his activities were as violent or destructive as what had happened on the Spire, but to draw attention, and Hera had been watching his actions very carefully. She knew Kanan was wary of the man, suspicious, certain that he was a Force sensitive creature of darkness, a fallen Jedi, a traitor to the Republic that once stood for the freedom and peace in the galaxy. But the Republic had become the Empire, the Jedi had been slain, and the Separatists routed and defeated, the worlds they once held brutally subjugated under the Empire's yoke. Worlds that were once Separatist naturally stood against their old enemies, the Republic's new form doing nothing to damper their defiance, and it was on these worlds where Hera was always most likely to find those most likely to rebel.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Separatist leader at the end of the war, was dead, but if he was alive, if he had taken a new form as well, transforming from the Negotiator to the Shadow King...despite Kanan's objections, Hera saw nothing but a potential ally, a natural leader to rally a rebellion around. As it was now, rebel cells were fractured, without unity, spread out across the galaxy doing exactly what she and her crew were doing, with no prospect of uniting into something greater, so far as she could tell. They needed a leader, a rallying cry to bring them all together, and if nothing else, Mandalore's self-proclaimed Shadow King was nothing if not loud.
Kanan was in grave danger, yes, especially if this man was who Sabine had said he was, but this rescue would, at the very least, give Hera a chance to see exactly what they were dealing with.
"Are you sure?" Hera finally asked, and Sabine nodded, a thoughtful look on her face as she let go the breath she was holding.
"Things on Mandalore are..." She frowned, her eyes cast toward the ground and hugging her helmet to her chest. "Complicated," she decided, looking back to the Twi'lek once again. "We were an Empire once, before our Mand'alor sold us out to the Empire. And I believed in it. All children of Mandalore do. We are respected in the Empire, we're given positions of power, of honor, far greater than serving as bounty hunters to the criminal filth that brought us down before. It...was a chance for us to be great again..." She shook her head sadly and looked at the helmet in her hands. "I never thought that we were just slaves like all the rest."
"That's what the Empire does, isn't it?" Hera said softly, a kind smile on her face. "Just look what happened on Lothal. They welcomed the Empire, it looked like it would be good for them. The Imperials promised economic growth for the planet, but all they do is take and take until there's nothing left. The Empire exists to serve itself. People just didn't realize it until it was too late."
Sabine nodded. "I know I didn't..." She traced the T-shaped visor of her helmet with her finger. "I was raised," she said softly, as if she were divulging a secret, "hearing stories about our Mand'alor Satine, about her rise to power, about how she united our warring clans under a banner of peace, a warrior who used words and compromise instead of weapons." She wrinkled her nose. "Very un-Mandalorian."
"Given your people's history, it's a wonder she accomplished what she did," Hera said, and Sabine laughed lightly, shaking her head.
"I know! I thought so too, and of course, there were those who opposed her rule. My clan, Wren, of House Vizsla. We led the opposition under the banner of the Death Watch so we could protect our old ways, our history. They called her a traitor to Mandalore for abandoning everything our culture stood for. She was a pacifist, and she made us weak when we were strong." Sabine sighed heavily. "And when Death Watch rose to oppose her, she drew her sword."
Hera gasped softly as she understood. "The Shadow King."
"Yeah," Sabine said, almost proudly, Hera thought. "He showed us why Satine was Mand'alor, why she was strong, why she must be followed, and we were united under the banner of House Kryze and the Shadow King that ruled completely unseen beside her. And I was taught that when the Shadow King comes to call, all of Mandalore are to stand beside him. All of us are taught this."
"But Mandalore is Imperial," Hera said, leaning forward and completely focused on the girl before her. "Surely they don't just accept this, it's treason against the Empire's rule."
"It's not like we just go around talking about it," Sabine scoffed. "They're family stories, our history, and like the Shadow King himself, it's...secret. Hidden. You know...behind the throne, not beside it." She waved a hand dismissively. "And it's not like he's around. When I grew up, there was only the Empire and just...stories about the king that made us a galactic power. Our Shadow King, our secret Mand'alor." She laughed lightly as she leaned back in her seat. "My brother and I used to play when we were children, pretending to serve beside the Shadow King when he came to call again, going with him as he conquered the galaxy and united everyone under the banner of Mandalore."
"And now he is back," Hera said excitedly. She may have been getting ahead of herself, but this was beginning to look like more than a rebellion. This was an army. More than mere detractors, these were soldiers, warriors, people that sat in the Empire's elite, and their loss would damage the Empire. Even if it wasn't every Mandalorian, this could potentially destabilize the hold that the Imperials had on the significant territory of Mandalore Space. At the very least, this could be civil war.
"Yeah," Sabine said, her voice distant. "Yeah, that appears to be the case."
"How are the Mandalorians reacting to this?" Hera asked quickly. "His message to your people last year wasn't a call to arms, it was an announcement of his return to ready Mandalore for when he did call."
"That's probably why the Empire is cracking down on Mandalore now," Sabine grumbled. "And I don't know how the Mandalorians are taking this. I haven't been back since I left."
"One more question," Hera said, the scepticism returning to her face. "What makes you think it was him at the Spire?"
"It was the rancor," Sabine said without delay, like she was waiting for th question, and she seemed relieved to finally answer it. "Huge and horned and white and far more vicious than others of its kind. The Shadow King had tamed one and kept it as a pet. I've heard Death Watch's Shadow Legion talking about it, and they're old enough to have served with him back when we were an Empire." She held up her helmet. "It was his symbol, his helmet had horns on it for his connection to the beast."
Hera quickly turned around when she felt the ship shudder and lurch forward, the lines of hyperspace gone from the viewport, and a planet hung in space before them, swirling red and black and yellow, a beautiful thing to behold that inspired awe and terror, a shiver running up both their spines as they observed the dead world. There was nothing there.. With a frown, Hera spun her seat back around to monitor the readouts and displays, the scanners picking up nothing as they brought the ship in closer to Ord Mantell, though Hera didn't dare fly in too close. The curse was a fabrication, of course, and she didn't believe in it, but she thought it best not to press her luck when it already seemed to be wearing thin.
The scanners suddenly began flashing, the proximity alarm going off, and Hera thought it was a malfunction. Nothing could have gotten that close to the Ghost without appearing on the scanner's readouts first, but from the looks of it, whatever it was sat right above them. She looked up...and saw it. The jet black underbelly of a sleek ship, trailing, intricate, glowing red lines running along the wings sat directly above them. It never appeared on any scanners, Hera had never detected its approach. It could only mean one thing. This ship had a stealth drive, and from the way it flew before, it was unlikely she could outrun it. She quickly began devising a plan, quietly entering new coordinates into the navicomputer and calculating their next just should they need to get away quickly. The shipboard com suddenly crackled to life, the ship automatically switching over to the other ship's channel. Whoever was on that ship had overridden their communications. It didn't bode well.
"Ghost," a voice on the other end said, and Hera tensed. "This is the Umbra. Thank you for coming."
"No, thank you for calling," Hera said in a mocking tone. "I never refuse an invitation from someone that happens to have something that belongs to me."
"Well!" the voice said swiftly in feigned offense. "If you didn't leave your things everywhere, there wouldn't be need to return them to you. Especially with such rare, valuable things. The Empire's paying a great deal for things like these, you know."
Hera held her breath. They knew Kanan and Ezra were Jedi. Not good. "So, what..." she asked, trying to sound as collected as she could. "You're going to make us pay to get our cargo back?"
There was silence for a moment, only the sound of crackling static hanging tense and heavy in the cockpit. Hera hadn't even noticed that Zeb had entered, his large hands gripping the back of his and Sabine's chairs as he stood in the aisle listening. "No," the voice finally said. "It would seem as though my Master has already collected payment."
"Gar ru'kel din'waadar mhi dayn?" Sabine growled in her native Mando'a, a language she didn't know if the other would even understand, but she had always found the Mandalorian language best at expressing anger and frustration. "Ganar gar nayc ijaat?" You would sell them to the Empire? Have you no honor?
"Vaabir gar copad at takisir ni, Sabine Wren?" the voice said, his tone suddenly frosty, and Sabine felt the blood drain out of her face. Do you mean to insult me, he had said, and the young Mandalorian shut her mouth. The consoles beeped, in the silence. "I've sent you the docking codes," he said, the chill in his voice gone. "Were I you, I'd leave your weapons behind on your ship. You don't want to cause an incident with my boss, he doesn't take well to being shot at..."
"Noted, Umbra," Hera said tersely, her fingers running over the console as she punched in her commands, and the ship slowly moved into position. The voice chuckled softly on the other end.
"Come get your cargo, Ghost." The com cut, and not a second later, all three of them were rushing to grab every weapon on the ship, fixing them to their backs, their legs, their hips, anywhere they could conceivably put a blaster.
"Chopper," Hera commanded to her droid as she, Sabine, and Zeb waited at the docking port for the airlock to fix. "I need you in the cockpit, make sure the ship is ready for a quick escape. We might need to get out of here very quickly." A few electronic whirrs of acknowledgment, and the droid rolled quickly down the corridor toward the cockpit. Hera turned to her heavily armed companions. "Remember, this is about Kanan and Ezra," she said firmly. "They may be in trouble, and our priority is getting them out of there."
"If they're hurt," Zeb growled, cracking his knuckles against his palm, "if they're so much as scratched, I'm going to-"
"You're going to do nothing," Hera commanded. "I can deal with hurt. I can deal with injured. I can deal with emotionally scarred, but there's no coming back from death, Zeb." She took a deep breath, her hand clenched tightly at her side. "We can't risk them, not for anything. They are the mission, and the mission won't be compromised..." She noticed she was shaking. This was the trouble with getting romantically involved with someone. They had a funny way of sneaking in, and now...she loved Kanan far more than she had thought. She couldn't do this without him, not anymore.
The airlock hissed, and a moment later, the docking bridge opened, and the Twi'lek, the Lasal, and the Mandalorian crossed over with their hands on thei weapons. Taking deep breathes, they hit the button and entered the other ship, and Hera was swept away at the fine craftsmanship, the elegance, the soft purr of the powerful engines...everything. There was nothing industrial or military about the vessel. This ship was made for comfort. This ship wasn't just a ship, it was a home. Like the Ghost was to her. Her hand dropped from her weapon. There was obvious time, obvious care put into this custom ship, and she felt immediate kinship with the man that owned it.
A man wearing tight black suit typically worn under armor entered the docking bay from a side door, took one look at the heavily armed, extremely jumpy trio, and frowned. "Oh..." he said his tone affected with mild irritation as he rolled his eyes. "It's fantastic that you decided to come unarmed."
"You have our friends captured on this ship!" Zeb snarled. His hand tightening around his bo rifle. "Did you really expect us to come unarmed?"
"I'm Mandalorian," Sabine said quickly. "You don't ask a Mandalorian to leave their weapon behind. We are always armed."
"Uh huh..." he said softly, crossing his arms over his chest, and Hera saw that he was unarmed. She felt more at ease already. He looked right at her and smiled softly. "Been a long time since that mess with Cynda. How are you doing, Hera?"
The Twi'lek's jaw dropped. There was only one person this could be. "Cody." He smiled softly and saluted. He was...older than Hera had expected, his black hair graying with age. This man was a clone. Sudden panic gripped her, though she knew she had no cause for it. Kanan had said that the clones had gone crazy, that they suddenly turned on and killed the Jedi, and now, Kanan and Ezra both were captured with one. True, she and Kanan had worked with this one, Cody, before, but he hadn't known Kanan was a Jedi at the time.
"Cody," Hera said softly, cautiously approaching the man, "are my friends here? Are they safe?"
"Come on," Cody said, indicating with his head toward the door. "I'll take you to them." He smiled, leaning in toward the other two. "Really. I'd put my weapons away if I were you. The boss has had a pretty bad day, and he's...well, on his best days, he's decidedly unfriendly and completely insane."
"All the more reason to stay armed," Zeb growled, and Cody just shrugged.
"Suit yourself..." the clone said as he turned and walked from the room, the other three following close behind him and looking in wonder at the ship as they walked through it. Sabine quietly managed to move beside the clone, her eyes narrowed as she thoughtfully looked over him.
"Is the Shadow King here?" she asked, and Cody scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Shadow King..." he said mockingly. "It's just so dramatic..."
"But is he here?" she asked again, more insistent this time, and the clone simply chuckled.
"You'll have to ask the boss when you see him." Sabine frowned when the man said nothing more than that, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. After a moment, they found themselves in a short corridor, faint, muffled humming and hissing coming from the door at the end, and then the clone hit the button, the sounds intensified as they gained access to the large, dark room beyond.
It was a large, spacious cargo hold, so far as Hera could tell, but it may as well have been an observation deck. The far wall was made of transparisteel, and through the long window, they could see Ord Mantell, big and bright and ominous and bathing the room in an eerie glow. And inside the room, fighting by the light of a world killed by flames, were two men, lightsabers blazing and sparking as they clashed against each other, fast and unrelenting, the blue choppy and almost frantic, the red moving with practiced ease. It was...beautiful. Stunning, an inspiring display of color and light as red and blue cut the air with blazing ribbons of energy. The three stood, looking in wonder at the display before them, and it took Hera a moment to realize that these were lightsabers, a dangerous weapon, and it was Kanan that wielded one of them. The other was held by a dark, shadowed figure, but even through the darkness, Hera could see his eyes glowing in the darkness with golden fire.
Hera couldn't move, her eyes wide and fearful as she watched the silhouetted figures against the light of Ord Mantell duel, a dangerous, strikingly beautiful dance that she knew all too well could end in death. She tried to find her voice, but couldn't, not even as the red blade effortlessly circled the blue, sending the weapon flying from Kanan's grasp and clattering to the floor. Not even as Zeb and Sabine drew their weapons and rushed to his aid, only to be lifted in the air by some unseen force and thrown hard against the walls to slide motionless to the ground. She only found her voice when the red blade, poised behind the man's shoulder, plunged down into the pit of Kanan's throat, and legs giving out from under her, Hera sank to the ground, Kanan's name on her lips as she screamed for him.
The red lightsaber retracted as the Jedi fell to the ground, and with an irritated hiss, the man snapped his fingers, the lights within the room slowly brightening, and as things became more clear, Hera could see Kanan struggling to his knees, breathing hard and pained as he rubbed at the place he had been struck. He was...alive? The man before him, a very young man dressed in black robes, extended his hand and Kanan's lightsaber flew from across the room to rest in his grasp.
"Not good enough," he said firmly as he tossed the lightsaber back to the Jedi, and Kanan caught it in a shaking grasp. "You became distracted the moment you felt your lady love there enter the ship," he said, pointing at the frightened, disbelieving Hera as she slowly rose to her feet on shaking legs. "You focus too much on your own motions, your own actions. It's making your movements choppy and stiff.
"I'm doing what I was taught," Kanan growled between grit teeth, his eyes darting over to Hera and giving her a soft, reassuring smile as he rose to his feet. Against the wall, Zeb and Sabine were being helped to their feet by a profoundly excited Ezra, and Kanan frowned slightly. He didn't yet understand the nature of the creature that was Obi-Wan Kenobi. All he saw was someone with the Force, someone young and agile and powerful, a master swordsman, a man unafraid to fully use the powers he was born with, excising none of the restraint that Kanan did. For a teenager who knew no better, Kanan saw how impressive that truly was.
Kenobi scoffed. "Depa Billaba did not teach you that," the Sith drawled in satisfied amusement as he rolled and stretched his shoulders. "I never knew her, but I fought her, and you learn more about a person when you face them in battle than in any other way. She was a student of Mace Windu himself, she was a master of Soresu and Vaapad, and she did not teach you to swing that lightsaber around like some butcher." He breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he focused, reached out through the Force to feel everyone in the ship, no further because he knew there was no life beyond it. Not here, not in this system. "You need to open yourself to the Force, let it move through you, control your actions, surrender yourself to its will so you can focus on your opponent."
"How am I supposed to do that here, the Force is...wounded," Kanan sighed, running a hand through his hair, his attention continuously drifting to Hera, the Twi'lek standing beside the other members of the Ghost and half-heartedly listening to Ezra fill them in on all that had happened since they were separated. "It's clouded and distracting and dark, I-"
"All things you must learn to push past," Kenobi said firmly. "You will never be in a fight when the Force won't be turbulent and distracting, and your opponents will all make liberal use of the Dark Side." He frowned. "As insignificant as their influence may be. You have cut yourself off from the Force for too long. It will take some time to fully immerse yourself once again." He looked at the Jedi, the man listening, but his attention was constantly being pulled by the striking Twi'lek. Kenobi sighed and waved his hand dismissively. "Take five minutes for recovery before we begin again. You have much to learn, and we have little time."
Flashing him a quick, grateful smile, Kanan ran to the rest of his team, stopping just before Hera, the pilot relieved and concerned, the muscles in her shoulders twitching as she withheld from throwing herself into his arms. Instead, she simply flashed him a lopsided smile. "This wasn't part of the plan," she said, light and easy, and the Jedi laughed and rubbed his neck.
"No, it wasn't..." Kanan chuckled in embarrassment. "We'll be more careful next time."
"Ezra told us about Luminara," Hera said quietly, looking around Kanan at the black robed man as he stood quietly at the viewport looking out on the burning planet, the clone at his side with a datapad and quietly speaking to him. "I'm so sorry. I know what it would have meant to have her with us. But..." she pointed at the man. "It seems as though you found another Master."
"Oh, he's a Master alright..." Kanan said softly, looking back at the Sith Lord. "Not the one I wanted, but...well, the Force gives us what we need. We don't always get to choose what form the answers to our problems takes."
Hera moved closer to the Jedi, so close they were almost touching, and she could feel the eyes of the others on her. They all knew there was something going on between their two leaders, but they had always been quiet and secretive and discrete, and the kids especially were eager for something more than idle gossip. "Is that him?" Hera whispered. "Is that Obi-Wan?"
"Oh yes, that's him." Kanan looked back at the Sith and rubbed the spot the red blade had sunk into. Despite the sabers being set to their lowest setting, it still stung terribly. "Sith Lord and everything, more powerful than I was ever led to believe." He sighed. "He's...not what he seemed. You were right. He is worth knowing."
Hera's eyes raked over the man, now holding a small holodisc and talking softly to two Mandalorians, the soldiers in full armor, and though the volume had been turned down and she couldn't hear what was being said, the tone was excited. Young. He was Force sensitive, perhaps he had a student or two. The Sith was listening intently, but to Hera, something about him seemed sad, lonely, like he'd rather be anywhere than where he was, like he had lost something dear and knew he wouldn't ever find it. They were the eyes of a man that had seen far too much, eyes that didn't belong on a man that looked so young as he did, but then, this man was supposed to be over fifty.
"So the Empire..." Hera began, and Kanan swiftly nodded.
"Killed someone that looked like him and looked his age, yeah. You can't just explain away the fact that he doesn't age." He flicked his wrist when Hera gave him a look that demanded an answer. "Trick of the Force. He didn't tell me how, but...well, knowing the Dark Side, it ain't good."
"And he's training you?" she asked in disbelief. "You said he's Sith, and from what you told me-"
"Don't get me wrong, Hera, that is not a good man," Kanan said, pointing toward the Sith. "He's been completely corrupted by the Dark Side, he is everything the Jedi used to warn us about. He's a walking cautionary tale." He shook his head. "But in the Spire...the Imperials are using Force sensitive people that have been turned to the Dark Side. Inquisitors, and they hunt Jedi, they sense them, they draw them out, and they destroy them. I fought one, Hera, and I was completely outclassed. I'm only alive because Obi-Wan showed up."
She looked at Kenobi, then back at Kanan. "Him?" The Jedi nodded.
"There were three of them, and he killed two. He may be a monster, Hera, but he's a monster that wants the Emperor dead. And before you get any ideas," Kanan said firmly, pointing at her, "I don't think he's rebel material. We want to be better than the Empire, but that's not a path he walks." Hera's expression didn't change, that clever, devious smirk on her face, and Kanan knew she was already thinking about it. "Hera..."
"That was amazing!" Ezra almost shouted, his conversation with Sabine concluded, bounding up to Kanan and unconsciously putting himself between the Jedi and the pilot. "I didn't think someone could move so fast!" He put his hands up, pretending to hold a lightsaber and mimicking the motions, making a humming sound in his throat.
"Well, he is a Master..." Kanan grumbled, rubbing at his neck, and Ezra looked up at him almost as though he was offended.
"Not him, you, Kanan!" He grinned broadly when the Jedi blushed. "Sure, you lost. A lot. But I never knew you could fight like that!"
"I didn't either..."
Ezra started gushing again, but stopped quickly when Sabine walked toward them...and then right past, crossing the room with purpose and determination, and, looking on at their bold Mandalorian in horror, the Ghost crew quickly rushed after her as she stood before the Sith Lord. Gold eyes observed her warily, and he shut off the holodisc and handed it to Cody, drawing back slightly as Sabine crossed her arms over her chest and raked her eyes over him.
"Little Mandalorian..." Kenobi said softly, an almost nervous tension in his voice, and Sabine's eyes narrowed.
"Are you the Shadow King?" she asked in a demanding tone, and Kanan placed his hand over his lightsaber when Kenobi reached behind him and unclipped the strange hilt from the back of his belt.
"That depends on who you ask," he said softly, but Sabine was not having it. She drew her blasters and pointed them at the Sith's chest, her eyes narrowed in anger, and all emotion fell away from the Sith's face, but the golden eyes blazed with interest, amusement and anger.
"I am Sabine Wren," she said, strongly, "and you will answer my question."
The weapon in Kenobi's hand ignited with a sharp hiss, the blade extending and thrumming with power, and Sabine's eyes widened in shock as she looked upon the black blade. "Adiik be Manda'yaim, susulur ner jor'chaajir bal cetar at gar alor." Child of Mandalore, hear my call and kneel before your king. He was calm, his voice smooth and commanding, and with a gasp, Sabine dropped to one knee, her head bowed and her eyes fixed upon the floor.
"You see," Kanan said, leaning over toward Hera, "this is what I was worried about when she joined us..." A quick jab to his ribs with the Twi'lek's elbow silenced him.
"Sabine..." Kenobi said, drawing the name out, his eyes closed as he seemed to test the feel of the name, almost like he knew it but hadn't used in a very long time, his tone almost wistful and nostalgic.
"I-I was named after her," the Mandalorian said, tripping over her tongue. "A lot of girls were, we-" She stopped talking quickly when rage suddenly flashed in the golden eyes, and she swallowed hard. "Where have you been?" she asked after she swallowed her sudden fear. "Mandalore needed you, the entire galaxy did, and when the Empire came, you were gone."
"Just because you cannot see me doesn't mean I'm not there," Kenobi said softly, deactivating the darksaber and returning it to his belt. "There's a reason they call me the Shadow King. I ruled unseen beside Satine for years."
"But the Empire!"
"Would you rather me stand at the head of Mandalore and openly fight the Empire?" he asked softly. "Mandalore alone against the might of the Imperial war machine. We would be crushed. There wouldn't be a Mandalore to speak of."
"We're being crushed now!" Sabine insisted, and Obi–Wan sighed.
"Mandalore has enjoyed relative independence because of Bo-Katan's open support and cooperation with the Empire, and when she joined them, Mandalore only became stronger."
"At the cost of our soul!" Sabine spat. "We have forgotten what it means to be Mandalorian! We are Imperial slaves, just like everyone else!"
"And yet..." Kenobi drawled. "When I called, you knelt before me." Hera gasped, her green eyes widening with understanding.
"Moff Bo-Katan," the Twi'lek said softly. "She's loyal to you."
"Aliit ori'shya tal'din," Kenobi said softly. "She is family, and she is Mandalorian. Family above all else. She did as I asked and what needed to be done for her people, as any good Mand'alor would. As her sister would." He shot Sabine a quick look before turning from the group. "That was more than five minutes, Kanan," he said softly, drawing his lightsaber, and with a hiss, the red blade ignited. "We have work to do, assume the ready stance for Soresu kata four." With a quick nod, the Jedi lit his blue blade and stood next to the Sith Lord, both blades spinning in unison as they raised the weapons behind their shoulders, the tips angled down, their stance low as they readied themselves and slowly, they began moving together, the blades moving in gentle, sweeping arcs and smooth, small movements of the wrist.
Watching Kanan and this man, this Sith Lord move together in perfect unison never made her more sure of what she had to do in her entire life. Taking a deep breath and looking at Ezra and Zeb, staring in wonder at the two as they trained, and Sabine, who still looked completely dumbfounded, Hera resolved herself, stood up tall, and marched toward the men. She felt gold eyes on her as soon as she drew near, saw Kanan look at her, concerned, out of the corner of his eye, and quickly closed his eyes in focus when the glowing gaze swiftly shot to him. Both men continued to move through the motions of their drill, but the Sith Lord didn't look away from Hera.
"Can I help you?" the Sith said softly, mild annoyance in his voice, but Hera was undeterred. "On my ship, your lover is mine. You may have him back when we're finished."
"This isn't about Kanan," she said swiftly, her voice firm and unwavering. "This is about something greater. This is about the galaxy."
"Of course it is..." he drawled, exhaling and relaxing as he slowed the movements of his lightsaber as it spun around his wrist, and Kanan hissed in irritation as he fell out of sync, but quickly managed to get back on target. "Ever the revolutionary, aren't you, Syndulla? So much like your father..."
Hera drew back slightly. "You...know my father?" she asked, holding her breath as if the simple act of breathing would make her miss something. Kenobi's lips turned up in a knowing smirk.
"I do, as it so happens. An idiot." Hera bristled slightly. Her relationship with her father was...complicated, but it didn't give the Sith the right to say what he wished about her family. The Sith's smirk grew wider. "Ah, don't be offended, Syndulla. Your father killed his Free Ryloth movement because he wouldn't listen to me. And now..." He swept the light saber up in a slow, sweeping arch, the blue blade matching his movements exactly. "Ryloth is under tight Imperial control, your people enslaved again, and they no longer have hope for rebellion since their fearless rebel movement was extinguished. A flame that died before it truly burned because he was impatient."
"I'm not my father," Hera said cooly, and the gold eyes fell back on her, appraising and amused. She felt...funny, like her brain itched. The Sith Lord chuckled, his saber sweeping up and he held it before him, finishing the form. "I believe you," he said softly, tapping his blade against Kanan's, the plasma sparking as it touched. "Run through the kata four motions, use that time to surrender yourself to the Force. When the motions are done. Its free sparring." He grinned. "And I'm not going to make you look good just because your girlfriend is watching."
"Yeah, yeah, you're a funny man, Kenobi," Kanan muttered, assuming the ready stance for the form once again, and this time, the Sith Lord brought his weapon down upon him, the offensive counterpoint to the form's defensive motions.
"My father," Hera said over the sound of the hissing lightsabers, "could never see the bigger picture. For him, it was always about Ryloth and the rest of the galaxy be damned." She stood up taller. "I'm not like him. I want to rid the galaxy of this Empire. This isn't just about me, or a single planet, this is about everyone."
"How very noble of you," he said, rolling his eyes.
"And you are against the Empire, and when you call, you'll have an army."
"Oh no," Kenobi said, diverting his attention away from the Jedi for a moment to glance over his shoulder at her. "No, no, no, no, no. One Syndulla is enough for me."
"But you don't have a Syndulla," she said slyly.
"I don't want a Syndulla..." Kenobi grumbled, and Kanan chuckled softly, moving the blade to parry the practiced strikes.
"Yeah you do," the Jedi drawled. "You just don't know it yet."
"There's something bigger out there," Hera said swiftly. "I'm on the fringes of it. I have...a contact inside a larger movement. I'm...not a part of it, not yet. I don't know if Fulcrum trusts me yet, but when he does, we're going to be a part of it. We're going to fight the Empire, and with your resources..." She smiled brightly when the Sith Lord shot her an irritated glance. A little rebel group could become a rebellion. Not like what my father made, but a real one. One that stands a chance against the Empire."
"No." The response was harsh and final, but Hera would not be deterred.
"You are already fighting!" she gasped, beginning to become frustrated. "How can a rebellion ever hope to work if all the different rebel factions don't unite!"
"Suppose for a minute that I joined you," Kenobi snapped. "Suppose you had my army at your beck and call today. What would you do?"
"...nothing," Hera said after a moment, her gaze fixed on the lightsabers as they slowly sparked together. "It's too soon. There is unrest, and it is growing by the day, but it isn't enough. Not yet. We are too fractured, too divided. We need a leader, a group of people the galaxy can unite behind." She smiled. "We need you."
Obi-Wan breathed deeply as he slowed his movements, forcing the Jedi to slow and match him. He was, of course, already a part of this rebellion, and if they were in touch with a Fulcrum agent, they were in Ahsoka's sights. That they hadn't bee brought into the larger rebellion yet couldn't have been an accident. Hera and her little crew were promising, yes, but like so many other things, one slip was all it took to expose Bail, shed light on the growing rebellion, put the twins in danger...
"I can't," he said softly, his blade lazily circling Kanan's while the Jedi slowly went through the motions of the counter, the move he had missed before when Kenobi had disarmed him. "If for nothing else, I will draw attention to you. I'm the most wanted man in the galaxy."
"You're right," she said softly. "The Shadow King of Mandalore is hunted everywhere." She pointed at him. "But Obi-Wan Kenobi isn't. He's dead. That makes you invisible, so long as you keep your armor off." The Sith Lord said nothing, only absently moved his blade against Kanan's as he moved toward the end of the kata. "Fine," Hera conceded. "Fine, we won't be ready for a few years. But it isn't just the galaxy tat needs you, Kanan needs you, or he wouldn't be training with you now. He never finished his studies. He needs a teacher, and with Luminara dead, you seem to be the only one left. Please."
Obi-Wan shut his eyes and breathed deeply, repressing the sudden surge of pain at the thought of his friend, her body laying upon the makeshift table, now respectfully covered in the room beyond. Is this why Kanan appeared in his visions? Was he supposed to train this former Jedi, this Padawan to be...what? Not Sith, certainly. Kanan was far too gentle a temperament to be a Sith Lord, and far too wild to be a Jedi, so...what? He frowned, his thought of a new Jedi Order resurfacing. He didn't want the Jedi to return, the ancient enemies of the Sith rising only to start the cycle over again. But if he had a hand in their creation...perhaps they could maintain the balance that the Force constantly strived for.
Luminara would have taught Kanan and Ezra, and while Obi-Wan knew he was to have no hand in training the boy, he could help Kanan. Luminara would have, and they had come for her. In any case, if it wasn't for him and his close connection with the Jedi Master...well, it was likely she'd still be alive. Beyond doing this for Ahsoka, keeping an eye out for promising recruits like he had promised, he could do this in memory of dear, sweet Luminara.
"Tell you what..." Kenobi said softly. "If your Jedi can strike me with his lightsaber before I end the fight, I'll join your little rebel crew." Kanan looked at Hera with wide, nervous eyes, his pace slowing significantly as he tried to delay the start of the sparring match.
"Hera, I can't-"
"Done," Hera said, flashing Kanan a soft smile. "I believe in you, Kanan."
"Oh, wonderful..." Kanan groaned as he brought the blade up in its ready position, the kata complete, and a wicked grin spread across the Sith Lord's face as he raised his blade and struck hard, Kanan's own lightsaber nearly flying out of his hands as he quickly begun a retreat. There was no chance of winning, no chance of even coming close to touching him with the blade, and yet, Hera had pinned her hopes on him. Perhaps, in a way, she trusted the Force more than he did. For Hera...for Hera, he could do this. Kanan breathed deeply and forced his heart to calm, and opened himself up to the Force.
It was a rush unlike anything he had ever felt, like a river long dammed suddenly unblocked, the steady stream he always felt suddenly swelling with a mighty roar, and all the distractions, all the tension, all the worries and fears faded away into nothing as focus overtook him. Obi-Wan had been a Padawan when he defeated a Sith Lord, and while Kanan harbored no illusions about being able to do the same, but so help him, if this is what was needed to defeat the Empire, then so help him, Kanan Jarrus would pull through.
The red blade whipped around at blinding speeds, the previous slow, graceful moves replaced by long streaks of red in the air, the blade moving so fast that Kanan could almost not see it, but he didn't need to. He could feel it. All he could do was lock eyes with the Sith Lord's, golden and glowing and...amused, not alight with the focus and the fury of battle, but with...interest. Curiosity, looking at the Jedi expectantly, as if he were waiting for him to do something to entertain him. Kenobi swung low, high, stabbed and slashed, highly athletic as he flipped and jumped, switching his grip on the fly and attacking front hand, back hand, with defensive Soresu when Kanan managed to counter, with fast and deadly Makashi when Kanan retreated. It was a nightmare, just as it had been the few other times they had sparred, but unlike before, it wasn't so frightening now.
Without warning, Kenobi spun, ducking under Kanan's horizontal slash, his hands planted on th ground as his leg shot out, sweeping Kanan off of his feet, and with a last, frantic effort, Kanan twisted as he fell, stabbing out with his lightsaber when he caught the Sith Lord out of the corner of his eye. Kenobi spun away from the ground, his blade extended and touching Kanan on the chest, and when the Jedi gasped in pain, Obi-Wan lunged forward, the blade impaling Kanan and the hilt slamming him to the ground when it pressed against his skin. It was over, and Kanan gasped for breath when he felt the red blade switch off, the painful pressure in his lungs easing. He ran his hands over his face, groaning in frustration, and when he looked up and saw the Sith offer his hand to help him up, Kanan saw a small, smoking hole in Kenobi's fine, black robes.
Obi-Wan had been touched.
When Kanan was on his feet, the Sith Lord frowned, his finger poking at the slightly smouldering hole. "Hm..." the Sith softly sighed. "Well struck, Kanan..." He shrugged indifferently. "It seems you may be worth training after all..."
"Does that mean you'll be joining us?" Hera asked expectantly, and the Sith Lord slowly nodded.
"I suppose so...not right away, of course. I need to bring Luminara's body to..." He shook his head. "I have someone who will want to know what happened to her," he said softly. "But when she has been laid to rest...yes, I'll meet you on Lothal, and I'll begin your Jedi's formal training."
Kanan sighed in relief, smiling softly as he looked upon Hera's absolutely glowing face, and before he could say anything, she quickly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, soft and sweet and short, but it was enough to start Sabine and Ezra gossiping.
"Hey!" Obi-Wan shouted at them, startling the two lovers enough that they jumped and parted, their faces flushed and unable to look at each other. "No sex in the Umbra!" he and Cody said in unison, causing the two to blush even brighter than before, the both of them stuttering and tongue-tied as they swiftly agreed to the rule. Kenobi simply rolled his eyes, muttering to himself under his breath in ancient Sith. It had been a long time since he had been part of a group. Not like the slowly growing rebel alliance, but like what he used to have as a Jedi and then again as a Sith apprentice. For so long, it had just been him and Cody and the rancor, and the existence had been a lonely one. Despite all his actions against the Empire, it was something of a lonely existence, his thoughts often left to drift to those he had lost when he wasn't actively missing his children. And now, he had to add Luminara to the long list of those he had lost.
He turned and left the room without saying anything to anyone, mindlessly wandering to the cargo hold where his friend lay upon the makeshift table. He stayed by the wall, almost afraid to go any closer, and slowly, Yoda crawled on his belly to his Master and laid beside him, sniffing at the small burn in his robes and purring in contentment when Obi-Wan laid his hand between his eyes. As soon as the Specters were gone, he'd set course for Dagobah and deliver her body to Grandmaster Yoda, and after that, it was off to Lotahl to join the ragtag crew, to offer his assistance to the rebellion, to help train a former Jedi so that he may stand against the Inquisitors that would now be ferociously hunting him.
Once again, he'd be off to grow close to people he knew he would lose, just like he had lost so many others, but his need for companionship had always been strong, driving him to it again and again and again.
The tides of the Force were changing. Perhaps this time, it would be different.