CHAPTER 25

Retribution

"An eye for an eye, and the whole world will be blind."

Kashyyyk, 14 BBY

Imperial Refinery

E-11 blasters were being passed around like a relief effort with ration packs to a starving village, whilst armed partisan soldiers jogged around their makeshift barrier that had cut off imperial advance thus far. Coordinated orders were relayed in loud shouts, but other than that, it was certainly quiet. Everyone knew what was about to happen, and many had begun to assume the worst from the impending Imperial retaliation. Despite the need to wait for the partisan scouts to reveal what they were up against; tensions were high as the stakes had been raised.

Trilla could feel it. The Force was beginning to churn like a building cyclone, preparing to touch down on the world below, tearing up everything in its path. She couldn't envision it before, but there was an unease that had manifested not only within her, but the soldiers around her. Observing animals and insects scurried as far as they could from the coming conflict, knowing that nothing but death awaited them here.

She ran the scenarios in her head over and over. From what she could gather, this battle was becoming more of a statement than over control of a refinery, as the Empire could not tolerate open insurgent activity if it was to establish its grip on the galaxy. Kashyyyk was a treasure trove of natural resources, perhaps one of the most plentiful in the galaxy, and the Empire would spare no expense taking it back, despite the obvious tenacity of the wookies who resided here.

A perfect example was the one towering beside her, his grunts and growls slowly translating for her.

"…yes…" she mumbled; arms crossed as her mind struggled to keep up with one of her weaker languages. "I…well…I used to be a Jedi."

The wookie cocked his head, mumbling.

"Who…no, what…am I now?" she asked in confirmation, to which the furry giant nodded. "Well, I…I'm…"

That was never a question she asked herself. She wasn't an inquisitor any longer, but she didn't feel like she was a Jedi either…or if she ever would be again. So much had changed, regardless of everything she had been through. The way she interpreted the galaxy as well as the Force had somewhat evolved…seeing it as more of a resource of enhancement, and less of an ally as the Jedi preached. Its corruptive energies had proven destructive in an absolute fashion, not at all with her best interests in mind, and it had become apparent that it had a much more personal effect than the Jedi originally entailed. For years she had been led to understand it as separate…but it never felt that way, not in her experience.

Perhaps that was something she would speak to Xur about, when this was over.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, unsure as to why it mattered if she did or not to a complete stranger…maybe as a way to answer her question to herself. "All I know is I wish to fight the Empire…and maybe that's enough."

The wookie nodded, grunting in agreement.

"Commander."

Trilla turned to see Mars approaching, feeling a bit of déjà vu with him still dressed in purge armor. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. All units are in position…just waiting for the signal."

"Good."

The plan wasn't too complicated…just some basic bait and switch tactics with a little bit of surprises waiting. Battle strategy wasn't really her forte, as she much preferred small teams and subversion, but with the circumstances, there wasn't much to work with. Nonetheless, she knew her role, and was confident she could fulfill it.

"Think we could pull off the bastion maneuver?" Trilla asked as Mars stood beside her, as opposed to slightly at her back.

"Bastion?" he echoed. "Without your spinning hilt? I'm not sure that would work, Commander."

Trilla displayed her prosthetic hand, letting him hear the gears turn despite being concealed by her gauntlet and glove.

"You didn't tell me you lost your arm…Commander," he warily noted, seeming unsure as if it was a good idea to bring it up.

"Yes…lost it to…" she was going to say Vader, but the intense hatred that came with his name would not be of any help to her here. Her focus needed to be paramount, and Xur correctly preached that using the Dark Side now would only confirm the suspicions of the partisan leaders, to which she only needed to satisfy a bit longer. While their suspicions were reasonable, their disrespect was another matter, and she could only take so much more before she began to deal with it. She never put up with it when she was a Jedi, and she certainly wouldn't now.

Focus on what's important.

"It's too long of a story," she answered. "Anyhow, I don't need a crude mechanism to make that work. We'll just have to be more…particular."

Mars snorted. "Well…whatever you say, Commander. I'll follow."

Trilla groaned. "Mars…just call me Trilla."

"Right," he cleared his throat, straightening himself out. "I'll work on that, Commander."

She didn't like that the elite of her former platoon still seemed worried about disrespecting or upsetting her, when she really shouldn't be surprised. They'd spent four years working under a psychotic sadist who had them partake in truly atrocious actions, and they hadn't worked with her nearly enough as a Jedi to really know any better. Trilla wanted badly to repair that relationship, especially since she was rather fond of them, but that would take time as well as a little bit of care. Them blindly accepting that she was reformed simply because Xur said so wasn't good enough for her, and she knew it shouldn't be.

If she felt she needed to prove herself to anyone, it was the men of the 502nd.

Her commlink chimed. "Yes?" she answered, raising her wrist.

"They're coming…" Xur answered, trailing off.

"And?"

A pause followed, and she cocked her head with anticipation.

"You up for climbing a walker?"


Stinger Mantis, 14 BBY

Hyperspace to Bogano

The Astrium sat atop the central table amiss three bodies shivering with growing nerves about what was about to take place, the feeling of their entire journey since Bracca amounting to one, final moment where it would all pay off.

The seed of the Jedi Order would be claimed…at last…and yet Cal felt unsure. What if it was all a sham? What if the holocron had already been taken, or Cordova had second thoughts before going through with his daring plan?

What if this was all for nothing?

He wasn't sure if he would be able to live knowing he failed, and everything was now riding on his success with this mission. All those children…all those innocent lives were about to be changed forever, with the hopes of rekindling the fire of the Jedi Order that would one day burn the Galactic Empire to the ground.

It was tough not to reminisce on where he came from, and how he got here. His journey had been filled with plenty of trauma, but no shortage of adventure, and he could not be prouder of his new family. Cere, Greez, BD-1…all had a place in his heart…and the other, perhaps a larger one than he would admit.

She was sitting beside him, staring intently at the object with her back straight, seemingly contemplating something he could not identify.

"You think it will work?" he asked, probing the thoughts of Cere and Merrin, and even BD, who was standing straight beside his feet.

Cere sighed with a similar reserve. "It worked for Cordova…"

"You can make it work," Merrin assured, her tone supportive and quick, nearly cutting off Cere as she finished her thought. Almost immediately she flushed slightly red, pulling back as she cleared her throat. "I mean…I'm sure it will anyway."

He patted her back regardless. "Thanks, Merrin."

"Hey uh…is anybody hungry?" Greez waltzed by, pointing towards the kitchen as his sudden comment pulled the three of them from their concentration. "I was thinking of maybe cooking some…" he trailed off as the staring persisted. "I'm sorry…am I interrupting?"

Cere smirked. "No, captain…and we couldn't have gotten this far without you."

Greez blushed slightly, bashfully trying to downplay his contribution. "Ah, well, look…"

Cal wasn't going to let that slide, not after all the excellent maneuvers he had pulled off to shake the Empire, and also risking himself to extract him on Bracca. The latero may be a pain in the ass at times, especially with the whole Haxion Brood deal, but he was honest, and he'd made up for it in more ways than one.

"It's true, Greez," Cal seconded Cere, to which his head fell in embarrassment.

"…thank you," he bashfully replied. "I hope you get in there and find that holo-thing."

"Holocron," Cal corrected as he marched into the kitchen, leaving the three of them alone again.

"You've come a long way, Cal," Cere added. "Your strength is something…well, I think all of us badly needed."

He didn't believe that, not entirely. "If it weren't for you, Cere, I don't think any of this would be possible. You taught me things that I had never even considered, and I can't see myself navigating the trauma without your help."

Cere looked unsure as what to say, and he sensed her turmoil return, mostly bouts of issues with confidence, or just the horrific events that had led her here. Of everyone in the room, Cal could say with certainty that she was the strongest of all, and to be humble about it was simply unnecessary.

"If we should be complimenting anyone's strength, it's yours."

She smiled his way, letting her head droop. "Thank you, Cal."

Merrin had fallen back into her state of intense thought, and once Cal's moment with Cere faded, he nudged her. "What's up?"

The nightsister shook her head, seemingly trying to get it off her mind, but to no avail. "This holocron…are you sure it's something you should find?"

It took a moment for Cal to process a question he never expected, and when comprehension never manifested, he scoffed. "What do you mean?"

"The children on that list…if you take them from their homes to train as Jedi…" she trailed off, and Cal could sense she was unsure whether or not she should continue. "Wouldn't they just be hunted like you?"

Cal almost cursed to himself as that had never crossed his mind, and while he was grateful to Merrin for asking the hard question, it felt like an impediment to all his work. He almost took offense to it, even if her tone was measured, as it felt to take a shot at his intelligence, as if he hadn't thought this all the way through.

Had he thought this all the way through?

He took a chance to consider it fully. He'd seen what Trilla and Cere went through, and what the Ninth Sister said to him on Dathomir only reinforced that fear. If he did find these children to begin their training as Jedi, could he even protect them in the first place?

One thing at a time.

"It…has to be kept out of the hands of the Empire," Cal insisted, which was at least a fair point to retrieve it, and at that point Merrin's fear would become something they'd have to consider, but not now.

"It will help us put an end to the Empire," Cere nudged him via the Force in reassurance, which reinforced his stance for now.

"Just keep that in mind, Cal," Merrin warned, to which he nodded.

"I will."

The ship blared the hyperspace alarm, and Greez immediately turned on his heel and back towards the cockpit. "Oh, change of plan, we're arriving."


Kashyyyk, 14 BBY

Imperial Refinery

To say the Empire wanted this refinery back would be a gross and vast understatement. Multiple AT-ST walkers were advancing towards the gorge that turned into their set battleground, and from the cliff edge Xur could see it all, as well as two hulking AT-ATs in the distance. How the Empire planned to traverse the piled gorge and into their kill box was an answer the zabrak was yet to determine, but from the naked eye all he could see was the first wave of stormtroopers basically told to run forward and don't look back. He growled to himself at such a reckless and wasteful strategy, reserved only to military forces who had bodies to spare, treating their men like useless pawns in a holochess game.

Nonetheless, the partisans would not pass up the chance to mow down Imperial troops in wholesale.

"They're throwing their lives away," Raven huffed, tuning his specs in prone position beside Xur. "Typical Imperial strategy. Throw waves of people at an enemy until they win."

"Well, if they're going to keep doing it, then we'll keep exploiting it," Xur surmised, pulling down his own specs, and then reactivating his commlink. "Trilla, the first wave is on its way."

"Right. Lockdown, Mars, Brutis and I have a little present waiting for them…Bastion," she almost sneered.

"Bastion?" Xur asked.

"Heh," Raven chuckled. "I don't know how the Commander will do that without a spinning blade…but that's an old formation we used to use to advance on encampments."

The zabrak grimaced, feeling left out.

"Going to be tough without the old man Blaze, though," Raven remarked, and Xur felt a little emotional hearing his name again…a man he never got to say goodbye to. Even if he never turned against the Empire, he was still an admirable man, perhaps the only Imperial he had ever taken a liking to.

"Think he would've joined us in time?" Xur asked, as Raven had spent much more time with him.

The captain sighed. "Not sure. I don't think he knew about the whole torturing children thing. Brutis turned…I think Blaze would never have stood for that."

"We'll do this for him anyway," Xur declared, rising to his feet to face the small team behind him, outfitted with jump jets. Raven rose beside him, just as the stormtroopers breached the gorge and the partisans opened fire. Only a few hundred feet back were the AT-ST walkers, and Xur loosened out his neck, taking hold of both of his hilts.

"Plan of attack, sir?" Raven asked, more for old times' sake.

"Follow me."


"Advance!"

Trilla took point as Brutis, Lockdown and Mars kept up behind her in a diamond formation, her gold blade igniting brilliantly amiss the chaos of the beginning battle. Pushing past the barrier as the partisans opened fire on the charging stormtroopers, they advanced as one while Trilla deflected each bolt that came their way.

"Stay tight. Open fire," Trilla directed, and Mars and Brutis on her left and right side respectively pulled the trigger on TL-50 repeaters, the high-pitched volume of bolts tearing through white armor in wholesale. Bodies dropped as they approached their position, screams that fell into silence once they acquired smoldering holes through their brains, and they only kept coming.

"Air-burst, twenty meters," she called out, testing her prosthetic with its super-human articulation. A spinning blade would certainly be more efficient but protecting her squad with simply double vision and her insanely quick reflexes was much more rewarding, not to mention taking advantage of her lost limb.

Lockdown, situated immediately behind her, prepped his anti-armor attachment and called out, "Twenty meters…" prompting Mars to draw his own DC-17 pistol as their advance halted. "Firing."

Emitting a satisfying plunk as the shell was launched, Mars traced is trajectory before firing one bolt. It tore through the shell once it neared a group of advancing Imperials, prompting it to discharge mid-air in a gory mess, vaporizing anyone too close, as well as mortally wounding those nearby. Pushing forward, Trilla's blade cut through the wounded as her tenacity increased, and Brutis drew his hammer in the close-quarters environment, leaving only terrible cries of anguish as his killing spree began. One trooper charged directly at Trilla in a bold attempt to slow her, but she only sidestepped and tripped him up, driving her blade through his chest as he fell. In a quick turn, she released a powerful Force push that knocked all enemies nearby off their feet, allowing her to return to her defensive stance as Lockdown claimed Brutis' spot.

She sneered as her aggression manifested, leaving no survivor in her wake until they hit the tight gorge. By now, most of the ground units had turned and run, and that was when she gave the order.

"Fan out and finish them all," she waved, a deep growl appearing at the end of her order.

"With pleasure," Brutis accepted, snapping the neck of his victim with a mere twist of his hand, blood splattered across his armor. Mars and Lockdown pushed forward with extreme prejudice, while Trilla centered herself momentarily, her eyes darting through the mass of fleeing troopers. Feeling her body vibrate, she unleashed the stockpiled energy into a bout of intense speed, fazing through existence as her blade cut through many bodies along the way, corpses hitting the ground simultaneously once she stopped.

And then, the sound of mechanized movement rattled the bloodbath.

Stamping over fallen bodies, covering the durasteel feet in a sick crimson red, the first AT-ST broke through, unleashing its forward cannons on the barrier behind them, just as more stormtroopers came flooding in.

"Commander!" Mars shouted in warning as they were now separated, facing an onslaught without their formation.

"Cut through their line! I'll deal with the walker," she ordered, and then let her internal hatred for the Empire blossom. Staring down the advancing mob of stormtroopers, she wiped the blood from her face.

She had work to do.


Bogano, 14 BBY

Zeffonian Vault

Cal felt, and Cere had agreed, that he should do this alone. It was Cordova's intention to only trust one person for this task, and only he truly understood its significance in entirety. He would've loved to have Merrin alongside him, and she had protested, but eventually she understood his sentiment.

The restoration of the Jedi Order was about to begin.

At the center of the vault, just as he remembered it, sat a circular altar at the floor, and in the middle was a perfect socket for the Astrium to be inserted. Already holding the beating heart within his glove, Cal decided that enough time had been wasted, and inserted the key.

BD whistled on his back as the entire vault rumbled, shifting and activating mechanisms that had remained dormant for millennia. Through the cracked sunroof, Cal spotted a massive end of a gyro sphere spin above, but even more intriguingly, a part of the wall revealed itself, maintaining a mirror-like glass finish.

"Amazing," Cal gasped. "The vault itself is built like a giant holocron, and there's…something about that wall…"

Despite the possibility that the holocron could reveal itself any minute, Cal felt himself drawn to the mirror, his legs carrying him despite his reservations. His boots sifted through shallow water as he approached, hand reaching out to the glowing reflection…until his skin touched upon the cold surface.

Flashing white, his body seized as he was hit with a psychometric echo, detached from reality as he felt his mind transported elsewhere…to a place in which the Force itself resided.

"Mark well and listen," the voice of Jaro Tapal echoed in his mind, even while his vision was still blinded. "For this is only the beginning."

"M-master?" Cal gasped, and then was granted a vision of a brilliant explosion, the ocean leaping into the sky as it erupted, cascading across an unfamiliar landscape. He could sense great relief with such destruction, and yet he could not decipher why such violence could possibly bring such joy.

Then he saw it…the holocron. It was green, unlike its more popular blue counterparts, and when he reached out, it glowed, and the empty faces of children dressed in Jedi robes surrounded him.

"I will teach them the ways of the Force," he declared, feeling his dream manifest into reality right before his eyes.

"Master Kestis…" many of them greeted.

Master…

Cal smiled. "Gather around everyone." There was so much he wanted to teach…so many things he could not wait to pass on to this group of talented children, who would one day be the next generation of Jedi knights, protecting the galaxy and defeating the Empire, once and for all. He could see it now…all those brilliant blades…and the flag of the Empire burning behind them.

"Master Kestis," one greeted, a boy, his tone low. "Do you think the Empire will find us?"

What? Of course not…

Yet that was not what he said, and soon another explosion ripped through the scene, and he felt himself crawling through mud and grime, the younglings trying desperately to keep up behind him. Blasterfire hazed above as they all cowered through a trench, terror infecting his students absolutely.

"The inquisitors have found us!" one shouted.

"Master, should we fight them?"

Inquisitors…found us? How could they have so soon?

Cal just kept crawling, unable to speak as the chaos ensued. The Empire was surrounding their position, their numbers insane and their intentions malevolent…the same he had felt when Trilla had found him on Bracca. So much hatred…such jealousy.

Such fear.

He knew he couldn't save them all, not against something as terrible as this, but he had to at least try.

The trench ended abruptly, and he rose to his feet, running through rocks and dirt until he spotted another youngling, cowering behind in hiding as an Imperial squad searched for him.

"Keep searching, they can't have gotten far…" one purge trooper remarked, his gun trained as Cal watched the youngling shiver in fear. The other stormtroopers appeared in his vision, and one pointed directly at the hiding place.

"Target sighted!"

The youngling screamed. "Help me Master Kestis!"

He couldn't…he was just as helpless as he was, and Cal's teeth grit in despair as he was frozen in place, reaching out in a pathetic fashion. Cal had promised these children he'd protect them…that he would train them well enough to defeat any enemy…any threat to their safety or the safety of others.

What kind of Master was he now?

The stormtrooper charged his blaster. "Moving i-…wait…gah!"

Just as suddenly as the Imperials, another trooper arrived, this one clad in black and gold armor, bearing an insignia on his chest Cal had never seen…opening fire on the advancing Imperials.

"Push forward," another in that same armor appeared, this one appearing as the leader of this new force. "Leave none alive!"

"The Alliance…they came!" the youngling cried in relief as he was rescued.

"Damn right we did. It's going to be alright."

The…Alliance?

Cal was transported again, and this time he spotted a circle of Imperial troops probing the area, although looking more like the prey than the predators this time around. To his joy, there were no younglings this time, and Cal felt an insatiable urge to draw his blade and cut down any who would dare come here with such intent…but once again, he was frozen in place.

"Command dropped the ball, the damn Alliance got here in time!" one purge unit griped at the front of the group. "We need to warn…" a near-horrifying sound echoed. "What was that?!"

"Sir, you don't think…"

"No! They wouldn't…ah!"

A caped figure appeared, their gold dual-blade cutting through the squad without a second thought. He heard a familiar grunt of effort behind a mask, and he could sense the terror this figure brought to any Imperial who laid eyes on them.

"It's her! Shoot he-," the purge unit ordered, until he was cut down as well.

"You are welcome to try. Die, Imperial scum!"

"Ahhhh!"

Before Cal's eyes could widen with recognition, he was transported again, this time standing in front of his grateful students as he shook hands with that same figure. They were certainly female, as the trooper had revealed, and with a direct look, he recognized the modified suit of the Second Sister, the Imperial emblems replaced with that of the one he saw on the first Alliance trooper.

"Thank you, Trilla," he said on instinct, releasing his grip on her hand. "We couldn't have survived without your help."

This vision felt more life-like and less freeze frame, and next he saw one of his faceless students run and jump into her arms, to which Trilla hugged them desperately.

"I knew you'd save us, Mom," they said, and Cal almost gasped.

"Of course," Trilla assured. "I'd never let anything happen to you."

Trilla…with a child?!

"I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner," Trilla apologized, holding her child in her arms, to which he could not identify. "I'm just glad everyone is safe."

"It's alright," Cal nodded, turning back to his students. "What do you all say?"

"Thank you!" they said in unison, and Cal's vision went white again, before seeing hundreds of images flash before his eyes.

"This is but one potential future," his master narrated. "Light the fire that will forge the shield. Then, the galaxy will rejoice."

Forge the shield…the shield for what?

He regained his vision before a mirror, dressed in Jedi robes, his beard trimmed and clean. Cal felt older, but his power and knowledge were second to none. Around him stood hundreds of Jedi, two that resonated far more powerful than the others…all of them looking to him for guidance. Stepping forward, he reached out to the mirror, and he saw his present self, looking on in awe at what he may become, before feeling the psychometric echo dissipate into nothing.

Cal released his hand from the wall, looking down in shock at what he had just witnessed. If what had just been displayed was his future should he seek out these children…then who would he be not to?

Light the fire that will forge the shield.

He could only assume that the fire was the Jedi Order, but the shield…that was another matter.

Beep, deet-deet?

Cal smirked. "I uh…saw something good, BD…something good."

Doo-pree.

"You're right…we should get the holocron."


Kashyyyk, 14 BBY

Imperial Refinery

This was a little too easy.

Brutis could tell with just a feeling. The Empire was wasteful, and certainly lacking in terms of battle strategy, but to throw so many lives away like this didn't make any sense. They had failed multiple times in their attempts to take this refinery back, so to think they believed this strategy even had a remote chance of working required a special level of stupidity.

Or silent brilliance.

"Something isn't right," he mumbled to himself behind cover, just as he took down another trooper with his TL-50.

Petro, close by, pulled his vibroblade from the gut of a charging trooper, the blade slick with blood and other substances Brutis didn't care to identify. "What?" he asked, using Force enhanced reflexes to sidestep bolts and take down another trooper.

"This is too easy," he remarked, watching Trilla advance faster than he could track, shoot upwards and slice the first AT-ST's forward guns clean off, before riding her momentum to the other side and cutting its legs free with a swift motion. It creaked and whined before falling in a heap before it could even do any real damage, and the loss of the fire support halted the advancing mob.

"Heh, I think the Empire is just stupid," Petro smirked, sliding his blade over his back to switch to his E-11, firing from close by.

Maybe…but…not this stupid.

Petro charged forward, joining the routing advance as partisan troops hopped the barrier, letting out cries of victory as they once again had the Empire on the run. Brutis rose to his feet and readied his hammer, but something still didn't smell right, so he elected to keep close to Petro should things go sour. Trilla cut down as many stormtroopers as she could, his old commanding officer beginning to look much more reminiscent of the inquisitor that certainly still resided within her. He didn't mind it at all, as long as she was pointing her sadist impulses towards those who deserved it.

And they all deserved it.

If they were going to throw men away, then he would oblige them.

Brutis charged towards a fleeing white armor, knocking him down with a powerful shoulder charge, before slamming his hammer atop the man's helmet, leaving nothing but charred skin and shattered bones behind as he moved to the next. Petro was nearly as tenacious, cutting them at their calves so they could not flee, before finishing them off with efficient stabs and slit throats.

He was proud…turning a little Jedi into a killing machine, but not a sadistic killing machine. There was little to no emotion with each of the boy's attacks, only efficiency, taking no joy in the pain he was inflicting. A battle was never personal…until it was.

More stormtroopers met a grim fate before they finally hit the front with Trilla, who had a wider sneer on her face than Brutis was comfortable with. She reached out with a distinct gripping reverberation, and a stun-stick wielding scout trooper groaned as her lightsaber breathed fire into his stomach, before dropping him to the ground in a heap. One bolt impacted her shoulder during her movement, but she shook it off with little reaction, leaping forward and tossing bodies over her head as more troopers were murdered with merciless brutality.

"She is different…" Petro trailed off, as she bore most of the attention for now.

Brutis actually smirked this time around. "She's just getting a little payback on these fuckers. Let 'er at it."

Petro seemed content with that, and he moved to join her. Brutis reached out to stop him, but his armor stopped a stray bolt cold, and his attention was forced to move elsewhere.


Trilla was ecstatic. Cutting down so many imperial troopers felt so right, almost like a righteous excuse to unleash the worst parts of her all at once. She used fear tactics, taunting and brutal, unstoppable and merciless savagery upon each of her victims, killing so many shivering men as her face was the last thing they ever saw.

"Someone kill that bitch!" an orange-shoulder called out, trying his best to consolidate his reeling troops as Trilla advanced, man by man. More screams ensued as her blade cut through flesh and bone, tasting blood as the Dark Side rose within her.

"So much fear!" she remarked, twirling her blade and zipping forward, leaving behind a trail of bodies that groaned and fell flat. Trilla fed on that fear, lifting the next group of men while she deflected incoming fire, and tossing them into one another with a quick gesture. Laughing manically, she tormented her former tormentors, dodging blaster bolts with ease, and snapping necks as she came by, using her latest victim as a meat shield.

She was beginning to realize why she had been forced to do everything herself when she was a slave of the Empire. At least insurgents put up a fight, but these…if she did so much as look at the shivering excuses for soldiers in white armor, they tucked tail and ran the other way, or foolishly stood still with their E-11 blaster at full auto. Cutting them down almost felt like doing the Empire a favor.

But it was more a favor for her than anyone else. It was like an addiction…her raging thirst for blood slithering its tail around her heart, injecting raw dopamine into her bloodstream as bones cracked and screams filled her ears. She wanted more…she wanted them all to suffer.

One charged her way as more of his comrades were ruthlessly cut down, winding up his stun stick for a powerful swing. She smirked as she ducked effortlessly underneath and reached out with her mechno arm, the digits clasping around his neck as she heaved his legs off the ground. She relished in the life that writhed from his body, and the bolts of another hopping into defense only found her gold blade, snapping her wrists in expert fashion as both his bolts ripped through his brain and his heart.

All the pain…all the torture she had felt…it was all pouring from her like liquid tibanna, requiring only one match to finally light it ablaze forever. Every stormtrooper she killed were the ones who watched her scream for hours on end, suffering just as she had…earning the death she had yearned to give them since that day.

Retribution for all that she had lost.

"Trilla!"

Someone shouted her name, just as she was about to close her fist and end this man's life, almost like an echo through the chaos of battle. Turning towards the trail of destruction she had left behind, Petro ran through the blaze almost in slow motion, desperately begging for her attention. It was faint…a whisper of danger sense that erupted into a bonfire, shivering her spine until her head whipped to the stomping AT-ST that bore down upon her.

Its cannons oozing with charged energy.

Petro collided into her side, carrying her just far enough to miss the superheated beams as they incinerated the grass where she once stood, the resulting explosion silencing her hearing and blinding her momentarily. Her grip on the stormtrooper's neck was long relinquished, and all she felt next was the hard impact of her back against the surface.

The haze wore off in time, and the rush she felt from her killing spree was snapped from her consciousness, and immediately the pain from her sustained injuries mounted. A blaster wound on her shoulder electrified her nerve endings, as well as multiple bone fractures she sustained from the explosion.

She could only imagine what kind of state Petro was in.

"Ahhhhhh!" she heard him scream, and she herself had to hold back vomit from erupting from her mouth as she dared to attempt movement.

"Kid!" the deep roar of Brutis came next, and her blurred vision focused on her former second in command as he batted away two stormtroopers standing between him and them with his mighty hammer. Sliding to his knee as he unleashed his TL-50, he shook Petro was his free hand. "Come on, you've got to get your ass back up!"

"I…I can't, agh!" he cried.

Brutis growled when his eyes met hers, only to return to him. "Kid…if you fucking die on me, I'll kick your ass! What in the fuck were you thinking?!"

"It's…" he coughed. "It's what I should've done…years ago."

Petro…run! Just run!

I'm not leaving you!

If you stay, you'll die, just like the others. Petro, please…

Trilla, I'm not leaving you!

If you die, then I failed! Please…just go! Go! Run!

The guilt she felt was incredibly overwhelming. She had let herself go…she let her false persona take over just for a moment, and in her complacency, she let Petro take a blast for her…a boy…a boy who had been her responsibility all along.

Desperately she searched the Force for the song of his pain…she begged it to fill her ears and allow her to take it from him…to free him of the burden she had been forced to uphold.

It never came, no matter how hard she focused, no matter how much she begged. Her power was gone forever.

The AT-ST turned its head, and by then, Trilla had accepted her judgement.


Bogano, 14 BBY

Zeffonian Vault

It was slightly underwhelming when Cal turned towards the altar, as nothing was waiting there for him. The vision depicted the holocron floating before him, so he rather foolishly expected the same to occur here…which in hindsight was probably a false assumption.

Only when he looked down at the hatch where the holocron was locked away, it was empty.

The holocron was gone.

Two blades ignited, the same ignition tune of inquisitor red, and part of him sunk into a state of raw confusion and fear. After the vision he had seen…had Trilla really double crossed him? That would certainly be an interesting turn of events, especially after getting the subtle hint from the Force to trust in the woman who very much so did not deserve it from him.

Frankly, he had a bad feeling he'd see her here anyway.

His green eyes saw an inquisitor, and from the corner of his eye they resembled Trilla somewhat, until the dirty blonde hair and shorter height destroyed those assumptions.

"Hey cutie," she remarked, a chilling smile that would shatter mirrors drawn across her face. "Looking for something?"

Cal blushed slightly, but it quickly faded as he grabbed ahold of his hilt. "Who the hell are you?"

She giggled. "Certainly prettier than the other beauty who chased after you. It's a real shame the two of us have never met. We were supposed to on Ordo Eris until…well…" she simulated the breaking of a neck with her own.

Cal narrowed his eyes. "You were there too?"

"Oh, my boy, everyone was there," she cooed, beginning to circle him with her blade humming with the roar of crimson. "You know, you should be more grateful to Trilla. That lovely lady has saved your life more ways than one."

The Jedi pieced it together…sporadic mentions from Xur, a piece of Trilla's story she had told him in their cell…the blonde inquisitor…one of Trilla's oldest friends from before even the war.

He pointed. "You're Effa."

Her expression faded from passive delight to held-in displeasure, which was virtually bursting at her seams. "Third Sister…I prefer, but you didn't know my rule quite yet, so I'll let that slide. Consider it a…gift for a dashing young Jedi such as yourself."

The flirts she sent his way were becoming more repulsive the longer they persisted, and once she began to pace back towards the entrance, he realized he was only wasting time.

"Where's the holocron?" he ignited his purple blade for a matter of intimidation, to which she wasn't affected much by.

"Holocron?" Effa paused, looking stunned, certainly by choice, and reached into her back pouch, revealing the same green cube he had seen in his vision. "You mean this?"


Kashyyyk, 14 BBY

Imperial Refinery

Xur felt the wind rush past his ears as he leapt to the next AT-ST, the one behind him crippled and collapsing in a durasteel heap where his blades had melted through its shell. Partisans with jump jets overhead unloaded their grenade payloads, vaporizing stormtroopers while some were shot out of the sky, their limp bodies riding out the jet stream until colliding into the surface. Raven was managing fine with his own jump pack, mostly utilizing it to escape outnumbered situations, since their personal advance was far ahead of the Partisan barrier.

He'd hoped it would have gone a lot better than it had so far. They were putting a massive dent in Imperial numbers, but he knew it wouldn't much matter. There were still two AT-ATs advancing in the distance, and once they turned their massive cannons towards their barrier, it would be over for them. Without air support they didn't have a viable method to take them down, and certainly not the firepower.

Not to mention the fact that they would just keep coming.

Then we'll take what we can get.

Xur prided himself as being a damn good tactical commander, or at least adept at boosting the morale of his troops, but he was smart enough to know when it was a losing battle. Leading rag-tags wasn't exactly his strength, but still, losing to the Empire was not appealing in the slightest.

Refocusing on the battle, Xur maintained his death grip on the AT-ST top hatch as it struggled to shake him off, but merely applying a strong Force stick to his feet held him in place. Igniting his blade, he severed the lock and flipped it open, plunging into the cockpit. The pilot gasped in surprise as he drew his pistol, only to have his arm severed off and heart impaled within a few moments. Pushing the body aside, Xur manned the controls, taking a moment to familiarize himself.

"Okay…throttle, guns…stick?" he pressed forward on the yoke and the AT-ST took a step, bringing an excited smile to his face. "Let's fucking go."

Stormtroopers were stunned to see the sudden turn of their armored support, the side-set minigun peppering the ground around them as multiple troopers met their demise. Xur wasn't afraid to press forward, using the massive feet to also crush bodies underfoot while he unleashed the forward cannons, the explosions satisfying as they cleared whole squads at a time. Eventually they took the hint, firing at his armor plating only to see it harmlessly dissolve on contact. The zabrak gripped the yoke tightly as he pulled the trigger, advancing to the nearest walker as quickly as he could in hopes of slowing their support.

"Raven!" Xur yelled into his wrist comm. "I've jacked a walker. Watch your fire!"

The sound of blasterfire whizzing by came through on the other end. "Which one, sir?"

Xur scoffed. "Look for the one clearing the battlefield of its own troops," he remarked, before spotting a heavy armed trooper fire his shoulder rocket launcher. With lightning reaction, he reached out and stopped the shell in its tracks, before reangling it to slam back into its origin point, vaporizing his assailant.

"Oh…I think I see you. Sorry, General!"

"Watch my back! I don't exactly have a rear-view mirror on this thing," he ordered, and just as so he watched jump-troopers shoot just above him to the battle behind. With friendly units out of his line of fire, he advanced, clearing out more squads with relative ease.

He chuckled to himself. "Oh Trilla, I hope you're seeing this…"

That was when a distinct cry of distress echoed within the Force, conveniently just after his target AT-ST unleashed a flurry of blasterfire that kicked up a large chunk of its impact point, and the distress became that of pain…regret. Whoever was projecting it…they had given up.

Trilla.

Primal instinct kicked in, and Xur slammed the throttle to maximum speed, ignoring the threats that amassed below. His concern and focus were singular, pushing desperately onward in hopes of reversing those despondent thoughts…not after all they had suffered.

Xur was greeted to the heart-stopping empty click that signaled the heavy cannons were recharging, an obvious oversight with his inexperience, and desperation kicked in, his options narrowing down to one.

As the AT-ST turned to fire, Xur collided his own into it, and the force of the impact carried them both to the ground. The zabrak moved quickly, pushing the already loose hatch out from its socket and leaping from the cockpit just before it all burst into flames, landing with a roll. Stunned stormtroopers surrounded him, and he immediately had both blades ignited, deflecting the incoming bolts with ease as many met their end with their foolish choice. Lightning arced from his hands as he cleared out many of them in one attack, chaining to their fellow troopers as it incinerated their insides.

Right on cue, Lockdown and Mars came up from behind, charging forward with their blasters helping to clear the area.

Then he immediately probed for Trilla.

"General!" Lockdown called out, and once he reached him, he did not stop, continuing his run past him. "The Commander is down! Hurry!"

"Where?!" he demanded, following in tow, but it didn't take long for him to spot Brutis kneeling before two downed bodies…Trilla and Petro.

"Trilla!" he cried, sprinting to her side, graced with the horrific image of her face bloodied and painted with an expression of despair. He didn't even look at Petro…who was certainly lucky to still be breathing at all. "Trilla…" he reached down and gripped her upper arm, to which her distant eyes finally focused on him.

"Xur…" she coughed. "Petro…he…"

"Did something stupid," Brutis answered for her, his tone bitter, and Xur finally looked down at the boy, obviously in incredible pain, not to mention the burned skin of his legs.

"Hang on, kid," Lockdown eased, activating his MAHI while Mars watched their quiet perimeter for the time being. As the scan came out, his head only shook. "He has internal damage and severe burns. We need to get him out of here as soon as possible."

"I'll do it," Brutis grumbled, lifting him off the ground, only to earn an anguished cry from him.

"Brutis!" Mars protested.

"We don't have time, move!" he shouted, pushing past him and carrying the pained young man away from the battle with haste.

"Trilla…Lockdown, check Trilla!" Xur demanded, sensing the rising wave of Imperials approaching, and knowing Trilla's life was in serious jeopardy. The commando seconded his thoughts, initiating the scan quickly, and his reaction was more favorable.

"Minor burns, minimal bone fractures," he relayed, pulling a stim from his belt and carefully injecting it via her neck. "This should get her moving for now."

She groaned in quiet relief, but there was a large amount of guilt still weighing her down. "Hey, come on, you need to get up," Xur urged, helping her rise, pulling her arm over his neck. "Mars, help her back to the barrier," he traded her off, knowing he could do more with himself free. "Raven, pull everyone back. You're about to be overrun!"

"We already are! I had to pull everyone out of there…what's left of us anyway," he remarked.

"Just get back here. Trilla and Petro are hurt. We may need to butt out…" he partly sighed; his saber ignited as he watched their flank.

"Sir…"

"I know…Captain…I know."


Bogano, 14 BBY

Zeffonian Vault

"…how?" Cal gasped. "The Astrium…"

"Oh, we got one of those," Effa rolled her eyes, tossing the holocron up and down in a nonchalant fashion, before stowing it back in her pouch. "We're resourceful. I was shocked when I read even two of them still survived after all these years. Trilla's notes…while deranged and rather incoherent, were incredibly thorough," she sneered, repositioned back at the entrance. "She knew everything about you…as I do now."

Cal's frustration was building as her taunts dug in, feeling his fist clench around his hilt.

"Now with this, I will regain the favor of my master," she blissfully reminisced. "Perhaps finally he will see the value I can bring to his world."

"You think I'm going to let you walk away with the holocron?" Cal stepped forward, his blades humming as he was now boiling for a fight, not about to come all this way for nothing.

But Effa's eyes just paced away, darting from one side to the next as her taunts only multiplied, until she shrugged. "Yeah."

Cal almost laughed, stunned. "Really? Obviously, you don't know everything about me."

"Overestimation of your own abilities? I think that's rather on the dot."

"If you're so sure then why are you walking away?" he challenged.

"Oh…that," she mock recognized. "Boys?"

Multiple pairs of boots hit water as purge troopers descended from above, blasters, staffs, stun sticks and hammers ready at once. He counted six in all…which was far more than he had ever taken at once.

"Have fun!" she called out, disappearing via the tight entrance.

Cal growled to himself, knowing these men were just here to stall him more than anything, all because he had let his complacency take over.

"Ready to die, Jedi?" one of them taunted, charging his electrohammer.

No time to worry about that now. Now…we just need to get out of here.

"Watch my back, BD."

Doop deet!


Kashyyyk, 14 BBY

Imperial Refinery

Trilla's pain was not what was dragging her down. Bone fractures, burns, scars…all of those were trivial to her. She'd suffered lightsaber marks many times and continued her duel without interruption, continuing attack strings even if her opponent had landed a hit. It was part of who she had become, and she had embraced it, even if the catalyst behind her pain tolerance had been intensely traumatic, to say the least.

It was her mind.

Watching Brutis carry Petro's body had done something to her psyche. Even after Katarr, she had never felt much regret for all she had done, and even Xur had agreed with that standpoint. Why should she? She did what she had to do to survive in her situation, and with all the Empire had done to her, she couldn't possibly be held entirely responsible for her own turn.

And yet her lust for pain and blood had resulted in the current state that Petro was now in, and there was no sound reasoning that could possibly take the blame off her. That feeling she experienced was only multiplying with each step Mars helped her take, stemming back to the innocents she had tormented, the Jedi she had ruthlessly murdered or captured, even the soldiers she had mistreated along the way. She remembered Blaze, how he had dropped dead before her after her rage had exploded within her, and even the tears she had wept then were not of sorrow for him…but of regret for even caring in the first place. For years…she had been so horrible…to Xur, to Raven, to Cere…

To Cal Kestis.

What had all of that hatred, bloodlust and savagery ever granted her? Satisfaction? Maybe momentarily, but it faded in time, and the nightmares she had inflicted on all those she tormented were forever.

Trilla Suduri was never perfect, hell, she was certainly far from it, but at least she understood something the Second Sister could never possibly comprehend.

Restraint is life, not death.

The life growing within her was proof of that, and the love she had felt since Katarr had granted her more happiness and satisfaction than she had ever felt as an inquisitor. She could do far more for herself preserving than she could destroying, even if that meant being selfless.

Even if that meant trying to be a Jedi again.

Feeling was beginning to solidify in her legs again, and her mind felt set…at last.

"Mars…I can make it," she assured, pulling her arm from his neck as she took her first steps, much to his displeasure.

"Commander…" he reached out, but she waved him away as she wobbled along, finding her balance as she calmed her mind, letting go of the pain that had ravaged her. Accepting it for what it was, and subsequentially disregarding her anger, even towards those she felt deserved it, she felt her soul gleam.

Solace…what she had desperately searched for…she had finally found it.

Once they reached the barrier, Brutis was already trudging up the steep side, pushing past protesting Partisans who seemed more concerned about their kill counts than the life of the injured boy.

"Get the fuck off this barrier!" Brutis shouted, almost in desperation as the crowd of troops became too thick. "Let me through, or I'll move you!"

"Piss off, coward!" one spat. "Get back in the fight!"

Trilla opened her mouth before she could stop herself, marching up just behind him. "That boy is hurt! If we don't-."

"Fuck off!"

"Murderous whore!"

"Nobody asked you, honey-tits!"

The onslaught of insults mounted, and she could already feel her new resolve tested after only a moment, but she remained in perspective before doing something rash…which they all certainly deserved.

"Stow your tongues, men!" Mars shouted in a demanding tone. "The Captain has ordered all forces to pull back!"

"Retreat?! Never!"

She'd seen selfish before, and practiced it many times, but this was not what she expected. Trilla knew the sides were not so black and white when it came to Saw's forces, but it seemed as if he had trained them to be flat out intolerant of anyone whose values did not align with theirs…enemy of the Empire or not.

A stable resistance could never be built off that, as a fire cannot be put out with fire, only destroy everything around them.

Blades hummed from behind as someone landed, and her head jerked to see Xur approach, his breathing heavy and face covered in ash. "What's going on?"

Many Partisans were only becoming rowdier as the shadow of the next Imperial wave approached in the distance…the one that would finish them once and for all if they stayed. Brutis lost all patience and began to shove through with his immense strength, only to have blasters raised in a threatening manner.

"What the hell?" Mari finally appeared. "Shore up! We have to hold them off!"

Brutis growled. "If I have to kill every single one of you fuckers just to get this kid some bacta, you know I will!"

She shook her head. "I understand you're concern, but we can't falter, not now!"

"It's over!" Xur finally shouted, his voice demanding the attention of everyone atop the barrier, many who had served with him before. "Look…I know a lot of you have lost a lot to this regime…trust me, we've all suffered terrible things…but we can't hope to stop them if we all fall today! This galaxy has forgotten what it means to hope, but we, despite the odds, will not let that fire die!"

Trilla noticed nods of approval beginning to surface, and her eyes fixated on him as his speech continued.

"I'm not Saw…but I know if he were here, he would want us to survive and fight another day, rather than waste our lives in a battle that cannot be won. The Empire may take this refinery, but they will never take our tenacity, our grit and our willingness to do whatever it takes to piss them off!"

Nods became cheers.

"Today we've shown the Empire the price of victory, now let's make sure that blood we spilled amounts to something. Return to the shadows to strike right when they think us beat and rip out their hearts once and for all!"

The cheers intensified, and she smirked to herself.

"Now let's move!" he waved on, and the barrier began to clear, finally allowing Brutis to push on, back to the Fury. Almost on cue, Raven landed with his jetpack whining as it turned down, his armor dirty and filled with patches of greenery and mud that had struck to the surface.

"I'm…all that's left…General," he admitted. "The Empire…they're here…in force."

Trilla felt sympathetic, and her hand gripped his shoulder. "I'm sorry Captain, I'm sure you did the best you could."

He seemed stunned, but her words sunk in quickly. "Yeah…thanks, Commander."

Xur squeezed her shoulder in support before returning his attention to him. "We're pulling out, Raven. Trilla, I need you back on the Fury and ready to get us the hell out of here," he ordered, flicking his head towards his Captain, as well as Mars.

"Wait…" Trilla grappled his arm before he could walk away. "Where are you off to?"

He smirked. "I've heard this tree sap their refining is explosive…so we're going to give the Empire a little parting gift."

Mars rubbed his hands together. "I like the way you think, General."


Bogano, 14 BBY

Zeffonian Vault

Cal fell to his knees as another stun stick beat him down, his nerve endings on fire from the constant bombardment of electricity. The next he deflected, batting the staff away and impaling his assailant with a spin, only to be hit in the back with another prod. Flipping around to face the remaining four troopers, all with staffs or hammers, Cal wiped the blood from his mouth and split his blade, twirling the twin violet blades. Not giving them a chance to think, he charged forward, deflecting two hits and landing a mark on one, only to be swiped off his feet via a kick to his leg.

His exhaustion was mounting. It had taken luck to kill the first two troopers, but they were learning quickly, adapting to his fighting style and taking advantage of their numbers, landing hits from behind as he tried to engage.

He had to win. He had to get that holocron.

Cal turned frantic, tackling one to the ground in a sudden pounce and raising his blade for the kill, but his victim caught his arm with both hands, grunting with great effort as he held off the thrust from ending his life. A strong hand ripped at the back of his collar, and BD flew from his back as a boot slammed into his jaw, feeling his skull whip back from the impact.

Blood poured from his mouth as he tried to fight off his ailment, but he was kicked over again, a boot planted on his chest. All four of their weapons were plunged into his chest, and he spasmed with electrocution, his brain cooking, his lungs scorching. His scream echoed through the vault as he could no longer move, his muscles not obeying his commands as they frantically acted to their leisure.

Then, it all stopped.

Bones cracked. Blood splattered over his body. Cal watched some of the most gruesome deaths he had ever witnessed, their bodies suddenly twisted and contorted in horrible ways as a distinct green mist circled around them. His hazy vision peeked through to spot Merrin, her hands outstretched, and her eyes burning with intense hatred.

"You will not harm him!" she declared, her voice augmented and utterly horrifying. With a swift motion, a scythe cut through the air, and four heads cracked against the ground…soon followed by their bodies.

Cal coughed, still unable to move as he choked on his own blood, and BD sputtered and sparked as he forced himself to walk towards his companion, his rectangular head pushing against Cal in an effort to help him up.

"Cal!" Merrin shouted, running past the bloody mess she had created and falling to one knee. "You should not have come alone…I warned you!"

He coughed, finally regaining some feeling in his muscles. "The holocron…Merrin…we have to get the…"

Merrin shook her head. "Stay still! The Empire is gone…and if they are the ones who have taken it, then it is gone too."

The holocron…gone.

He'd failed. He gave into his arrogance, and thus put all the children on that list at risk of being found, taken and enslaved by the Empire.

But failure wasn't the end…it was merely a necessary part of the path…and persistence revealed the path.

Cal shuffled, grunting as he tried to stand, only to have Merrin stop him.

"Cal, you're hurt. Just sit still."

"No," he denied. "We don't have time for this. We need to get back to the Mantis…and we need to find where she's taken the holocron."

Merrin's brow arched. "Cal…"

"Come on, BD," Cal waved as he finally regained his footing, and the bipedal droid crawled aboard his back. With a snap of his fingers, he was granted a stim, and he groaned in relief as his pain dissipated, his stance straightening, his breathing normal. Merrin only looked on in worry, but eventually let it be. "We need to tell Cere and come up with a plan."

The nightsister still didn't want him walking, but he felt his own will transfer to hers, and her trust in him only increased in that moment, a small nod of approval following.

"I'm sorry…Cal," she apologized.

"Yeah…I'm sorry too."


Kashyyyk, 14 BBY

Imperial Refinery

Xur sprinted as blasterfire peppered the ground around him, his blade ignited as he turned, deflecting fire with ease from the chasing death trooper squad. Their E-11D blasters emitted the deep bursting tone with each pulling of the trigger, and the heavy bolts hit much harder than he was used to sending back. Raven and Mars kept up behind him. The Fury was only a few meters away, and Lockdown was out to provide covering fire immediately.

"Come on!" he shouted. "You're almost there!"

The zabrak drew his second blade, trying to keep up with the increasing volume, but he could feel his guard beginning to slip up ever so slightly. Raven had reached the ramp, and he groaned with intense effort as he forced himself to pick up the pace, utilizing Vaapad strategies to almost form an orange ball of energy around himself in defense.

"General, let's move!" Mars shouted, his pistols blazing beside him as Lockdown lobbed a thermal detonator from his spot. Exploding in a devastating shockwave, it momentarily ended the firing, giving Xur a moment to breathe and turn towards the ship.

Xur's foot hit the ramp, and Mars said, "General, we-," his voice stopped mid-sentence by an armor-piercing bolt that ripped through his head and dropped his body to the ground.

"Mars!" Raven screamed, and Xur could not find the words…or action to follow up. They'd made it…just a second ago he was alive…breathing…telling him he was…he was…

He would never know.

Lockdown's steel grip on Xur's wrist pulled his shell-shocked body into the Fury while Raven pulled in the rest of his dead brother, just before the loading ramp shut and the engines roared into life.

Raven ripped off Mars' helmet as the ship shook for takeoff, only to see his aimless eyes and limp muscles. "Mars…Mars!" he grimaced, fighting off tears.

Xur could not even speak…his eyes stuck open wide as his breathing almost disappeared. Mars was alive…just a few moments ago, and now…he was…gone? He'd known Mars since he was a teenager. Clankers couldn't kill him…he was invincible…Xur was invincible.

How could he have let him die?

"Captain," Lockdown urged. "Captain…the bomb."

Tears did not flow from Raven's eyes, but he somberly nodded, pressing his thumb onto the detonator and dropping it to the durasteel floor.

Moments passed, and no words were exchanged, not until footsteps came around the corner.

"Petro is stable, but we…" Trilla's words left her throat as she saw what had shocked them straight. Her chin shivered as she knelt beside Mars, seemingly disbelieving of what she saw…not until her hands brushed over his cold face did she realize that he was gone…forever.

And none of them could say goodbye.


That was so much better than before, as I hope many of you who read my original post for this chapter will agree. If you never had a chance to catch what I had written before, then you have spared yourself, certainly. I believe this is more what I had been searching for in the first place. This chapter was never meant to have a happy ending, but now we can get into the endgame…at last.

After that previous slip-up, and with me beginning the current college quarter, I will be in less of a rush to roll out chapters as before…since it is obvious that fatigue is catching up to me! Never have I written a 200k word story (my previous most was 61k!), let alone in four months, so I might pace out the final couple so you guys can get the best quality you deserve. I actually am taking a Fiction writing course, so maybe I'll become less of a shit writer in 10 weeks :P

This story will not be ending after I conclude the main plot, though! I plan on doing one-offs and smaller arcs to continue, as well as a few "in-betweens", so don't worry about this coming to a true end anytime soon.

Thanks for your patience as I sorted this out! Stay healthy and stay safe! I'd love to know how you're feeling about this story thus far, so don't be afraid to review!

Thanks for reading!