CHAPTER 27

Darkest Before Dawn

"It is not 'forgive and forget' as if nothing wrong had ever happened, but 'forgive and go forward,' building on the mistakes of the past and the energy generated by reconciliation to create a new future."

ISD Valkyrie, 14 BBY

Orbiting Kashyyyk

Vorchenko spent a long while letting her eyes pace over the lush planet of Kashyyyk, its glory sullied by the venomous fangs of the Galactic Empire. She remembered executing a Republic relief mission just before the Clone War broke out…a time where she was merely a bright spark in the eyes of marine command. Things were so simple then…logistics with distribution, planning for efficient forest routes, ways to get the sick off planet.

Nothing about subverting an entire totalitarian regime…one cannot simply shoot the enemy aiming at them to achieve victory, as the enemy has hundreds, if not thousands of men waiting to take their place…and they cared little about their fate.

She merely needed to do her final part…and the retribution would begin. Years of planning, years of deception…years of searching for the outlet for her revenge against the Empire that had exterminated the Jedi and robbed the galaxy of its freedom. She'd promoted the agenda of Xur Eon, her closest ally for many years, and now she just needed to set him loose…and wreak the havoc the galaxy needed to suffer.

The smoldering ruin that used to be the imperial refinery at the base of the Origin Tree was only the beginning.

"Admiral…"

Vorchenko turned her attention away from the viewport, laying her eyes on Agent Markov, a light-brown skinned female human with striking gold-brown eyes whose jet-black hair ended at the base of her jaw. One of her preferred contacts of the Imperial Security Bureau, Elena Markov was efficient, intelligent and an incredible shot.

And had been tracking the movements of Xur Eon for many years.

"Ah, yes," the Admiral acknowledged. "Apologies, Agent. I trust your excursion went to plan?"

Markov did not look so elated, which was all part of the plan. "After a thorough search, all we discovered was the pack of insurgents fled into the shadowlands, and we are pursuing them as we speak…but any trace of Xur Eon has been erased."

Vorchenko grumbled with disappointment. "As usual. He always covers his tracks."

She frowned. "I'm not as convinced, and neither is Admiral Slovis. He believes there is a mole in the high brass."

Not the first time she'd heard that theory, and Slovis was not the first slime to attempt to undermine her, whether she was a suspected traitor or not. Tarkin's protégé? They would never suspect it, and even on the off chance they had, they'd have to convince Tarkin himself of the deception.

Which was nigh impossible. The man stood by his students, and took pride in the ones who succeeded, and she was his best. She did not hate him, but she hated the Empire he had helped create.

"A mole? Agent, this is a theory that has been pressed forward and debunked. I suggest you look elsewhere," Vorchenko answered.

Markov tried to hide her displeasure, maintaining her professionalism. "You are the one with the theories, Admiral. What is yours?"

Vorchenko had her proxy theories, usually lacing the truth with enough lies to make it feasible, but not enough to actually work. This time, however, with the current situation, and this piece of information already known by those who matter, she could grant Markov her mole and stick the hunt elsewhere.

But it would expose Trilla Suduri…someone she had taken a fond liking to…

Yet, no one knew who that was. All the Empire ever saw was the mask of the Second Sister and her black attire, and Trilla Suduri was just another Jedi who died during Order 66. Ironically, the Second Sister could still serve them well, even in her death.

"I believe the Second Sister has gone rogue and has been feeding him information until she finally cut all ties with the Inquisitorious," Vorchenko revealed.

"Impossible," Markov spat. "That Inquisitor hated him more than any other officer I had ever worked with. Why would she betray the Empire for him?"

"They became romantically invested after he subverted the Inquisitorious," she revealed, also a little-known fact.

Markov sighed. "You mean to suggest that the unidentified female Jedi who assisted the insurgents is the former Second Sister?"

"I do not suggest, I inform, Agent," Vorchenko corrected. "I also have reason to believe men of her former squad are involved as well."

The Agent jerked her head backwards. "What you are suggesting is a complete betrayal of everyone she was associated with…which is not in alignment with her personality."

"No…but more and more often we are surprised by the tenacity of our enemies. To believe such a massive deception impossible is only doing yourself a disservice," Vorchenko explained…and hoped it would be enough.

Markov sighed. "I don't know why I even asked. None of it matters. I must leave at once."

Vorchenko huffed at that. "You're being reassigned?" she figured. "I specifically requested that your services remain here."

"Colonel Yularen is concerned with our resources, so he had decided to relocate some longstanding agents," Markov revealed. "Myself included."

She grimaced, knowing she'd be a waste in anyone's hands other than hers…but perhaps it was for the best. "Unfortunate."

"I have my orders, Admiral," Markov shrugged, offering her hand, to which the Admiral shook. "I wish you good luck."

"Likewise, Agent Markov," she pulled her hand away, and the Agent turned on her heel and exited the bridge, leaving Vorchenko short one valuable asset.

"Admiral," her deck officer called from below, and she turned her head. "We have Admiral Slovis' known trajectory."

She tipped her head. "Very good. Prepare to initiate pursuit."

It was time to kick the slob in the gut…and never grant him a chance to rise.


Ziost, 14 BBY

Rocklands

Cal paced through the spiked rocks and jagged edges of the small valley, his senses outwards and eyes forward. He was hunting, which was unusual for him, as normally he would be the one doing the hiding. With his hilt in hand, he stopped, stretching his senses all through the landscape, searching for the danger he expected to come, his thumb trembling on the ignition.

None came.

Taking a deep breath, he continued onwards, moving to search elsewhere for the prowler he was certain he'd find.

Danger sense darted his eyes upward, and the battle roar he heard echo through the valley prompted him to step back and dodge the crimson blade that collided into the ground. Igniting his own violet, he blocked his assailant's cross swing, before moving to deflect their next, but they put much more power behind it than he expected, and the impact rattled his guard. The Force rippled and kicked, feeling himself shoved backward and on to the rocky floor, before executing a somersault that planted him back on his feet.

Looking up, who he had known as the Second Sister smirked back at him, twirling her crimson circle hilt and holding it in her ready stance, while he switched his own hilt back into the on position. Charging forward, Cal initiated his first attack string, each crosscut, and slice deflected with ease before the turn came to the Second Sister, who put fierce strength behind each of her hits as his wrists protested the effort. Staggering backwards, Cal backpedaled and deflected her next advancing move before the two of them fell into a saber lock, the strength required to hold her at bay immense.

Eventually she won out, and after pushing off his blade, she grasped his head with her prosthetic hand and winded up a powerful kick that stopped just before it collided into his cranium.

"You're overpowered too easily," Trilla remarked, pulling her leg down and releasing him. "You don't use the Force to enhance your strength."

Cal bitterly ran his fingers through his hair. "Whatever. Let's just go again."

"Disregard me at your own peril, Padawan," Trilla warned, her tone sounding surprisingly genuine, despite the condescending use of the pet name she had stuck to him. "If you do not adapt to overwhelming force, you will lose every time."

There was truth to her words, but he'd never admit it. "Since when could you hit so hard anyway?"

"Since my forearm was removed from my body," she displayed, letting him hear the servos move with the movement of her fingers. "I'm sure you remember."

He did, and she certainly deserved it after all she had done to him since Bracca. As far as he was concerned, the two of them were not friends…simply allies united by a common enemy…despite the premonition he had experienced on Bogano. Even if he would like to simply forget it all and put aside their differences, his distrust in her was still too potent to look past it.

And he still had heard no apology.

Cal sighed and repeated. "Let's just go again."

Trilla seemed content with that…since it was just an excuse for her to be able to beat on him further, although in honesty, he sensed no desire within her from this, just the necessity of a mentor.

As if she was really here to teach him something.

Trilla moved quickly, this time utilizing her speed and agility to test his defenses, something he had seen from her before. Using his improved defensive bladework, Cal batted away her final strike and split his saber, using both violet blades to engage violently and ferociously…an attack that widened her eyes quickly. The shock from his attack bore into her as she stumbled, giving him a chance to step forward and plant his boot into her stomach, knocking her to the ground.

Then she growled.

A dark closing sound echoed in the Force, and Cal felt his throat shut and his legs lifted from the rocky surface as Trilla rose to her feet with her hand outstretched…her eyes livid.

This was not training. Why she had suddenly lost control was beside the point…now he needed to protect himself. Pooling his energy into the center of his chest, Cal cocooned his body until unleashing the stored power, freeing him from her grip with a repulse and making her stagger.

Trilla roared and swung at his head, barely ducking in time before reaching out his hand, utilizing a concentrated Force Stasis to stop her blade before it ended his life. The strain from his excessive use of Force energy was depleting his strength, and the look on her face depicted that of a rabid woman in a primal state.

But there was no murder intent present…just protection.

Then it occurred to him…how he had kicked her, and most importantly…where. His vision flashed back in that moment, the image of an armored Trilla holding a child in her arms, and the caring tone of her voice that he had never heard before.

Was that already a reality?

"Trilla!" he called out, his teeth grit as her crimson blade shuddered in the stasis hold that was rapidly deteriorating. "Trilla, stop! I'm sorry!"

Her eyes flashed, and for a moment she looked as if she was going to go through with her motion and kill him, but she blinked and relinquished her attack, deactivating her blade in a stunned manner. "I…what…" she dropped her hilt, stammering intensely. "This…this was a bad idea."

Cal wasn't sure what to say…as he only somewhat felt sorry for her and should truthfully be upset that she had predictably lost her temper. "Maybe…"

Trilla paced away to the rock face, pinching the bridge of her nose in distress as her free hand rubbed her stomach…and he heard her whisper something to herself.

It was bothering him too much…time to come clean.

"On Bogano," he simply began, not quite drawing her attention. "I had a premonition. The Force showed me…things."

Trilla huffed. "If you have questions regarding your ailments with the Force, go speak to Cere, not me. I do not have the desire to help you through such trivial things."

Cal stifled his annoyance. "This one was about you, Trilla."

Now he had her attention, if only a part of it. "Why would the Force bother to show you something regarding my fate?" she turned, and a bitter realization turned her expression sour. "If we're connected, I swear…"

"Trust me, I don't want to be connected to your fate either," Cal insisted, and didn't trust her enough to reveal everything he'd seen anyhow. "But what I saw there now makes a hell of a lot more sense after what just happened with you."

"Oh?" Trilla cocked her head, stepping forward in a challenging stance as her arms crossed. "And what's that?"

Just say it. Rub it in her face.

Cal shored himself up. "You're pregnant…aren't you?"

Trilla's face fell, which was all he needed to know…and to finally one-up her was incredibly satisfying.

But the Jedi in him was happy for her…he was naturally happy for her, because that was who he was. He wasn't bitter…he wasn't petty. He didn't care why Trilla had done what she'd done after the Empire had tormented her for so long…he only needed proof. Cal needed to see that she'd changed, or at least be given the hope that she could be, and that gave him more hope than he could imagine.

"I'm happy for you…Trilla," Cal admitted, which felt much better than he expected.

The trembling of her chin faded, and through her emerald eyes he spotted distinct gratitude, held back by her natural pettiness and untrusting nature, deciphering all the reasons why Cal would attempt to lower her guard and steal a part of her away. She just stared his way for a long while, unsure how to react, until she grimaced slightly and looked away, embarrassment taking over.

She sighed. "Thank you…Cal."

Did fucking Hell just freeze over?

Cal cocked his head. "Did you just call me by my name?"

Trilla gave him an admonishing look. "Don't make me take it back."

"Right…sorry-,"

"And you'd better not tell him," she stepped forward, imploring her sincerity. "Or I swear…when I'm done with you, you will wish I had succeeded in your capture before."

And we're back to normal.

He knew better to indulge her this time around. "Of course. If that's what you want…I'll keep it to myself."

She was desperately searching for a reason to stay cross with him, but her displeasure faded with time, and eventually she adopted that same, sad expression he'd seen when Merrin released her on Ordo Eris.

Trilla had suffered far worse than he ever had. She killed Prauf, sure, but she had quite literally lost everything…her friends, her master…

Even the man she loved.

For all the pain that she'd been through, he could at least swallow his pride and forgive her for all she had done, and perhaps that could give her the healing she desperately needed.

"Why would you do that for me…after all I've done to you?" she asked.

Cal reached out tentatively as if attempting to pet a snarling krayt dragon, and rested his hand on her shoulder, to which she allowed albeit with a cocked head.

"It's the right thing to do."

Trilla had no idea what to do with that, and in time she merely sighed. "I remember a time where I once thought like that."

He leaned in, patting her shoulder. "That time isn't gone forever, Trilla."

Cal could feel himself getting through to her, and he even detected…emotion…and not the malicious kind, but gratitude…relief…serenity. In his mind's eye, Cal had just seen the Second Sister die her final death. She'd reconciled with her love, with her master, and now with all the Jedi she had hunted, tormented and killed over her time.

Trilla Suduri was resurrected before his eyes.

"Cal…you're…you're going to make me cry," she wiped her eye, and he chuckled with joy. "You'd better not tell him about this either."

He pulled his hand away. "Why not?"

"Why not?" she echoed. "Kestis, I've had enough of Xur Eon telling me I told you so."

"Your secrets are safe with me," he promised.

Trilla looked as if the weight of the world had been pulled from her shoulders, and in a sudden move, she pulled Cal in for a hug, to which he slowly knew to accept this time around. "I am truly sorry, about everything. There is nothing I can do to make up for killing your friend…"

"It's alright," Cal assured. "I'm sure Prauf doesn't regret a thing."

Green energy appeared beside them, and Cal's eyes widened as the recognizable sound registered in his consciousness and he ripped himself out of Trilla's grasp, as did she. Merrin stood with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Cal stammered. "I wasn't-,"

"We were just-," Trilla tried to explain as well.

"We weren't hugging like that-,"

"I could never imagine myself ever-,"

"Totally plutonic…no sexual things going on…"

"…wanting to ever be with this…child-,"

Merrin burst into laughter, which silenced them both into deadpan expressions as the nightsister giggled hysterically, and the embarrassment only compounded exponentially. Arms were wrapped around the both of their necks as Xur joined in between them, his own laughter apparent…while Trilla's eyes widened intensely.

"Wow, that was gorgeous," Xur laughed, and judging by his joking mood…he must not have heard everything. "Are you two going to make out next?"

Trilla grumbled and grit her teeth. "You cunt. I fucking hate you."

"For once, we agree," Cal seconded.

Merrin wiped her eyes clear of her tears. "Who would have thought we would run into this? Part of me was prepared to save you again, Cal."

Trilla cleared her throat. "So you didn't hear what we talked about?"

Xur shook his head. "Nah. We just wanted to check up on you. At first, I was like…oh shit, my girl is cheating on me, but then I realized how much you hate this little ginger Padawan."

"I told him that you were becoming more forgiving, Cal," Merrin admitted. "You should count yourself lucky. He was talking of strangling you, and I would have let him."

Cal scoffed. "Thanks."

Trilla freed herself from his grip. "You honestly believed I was cheating on you?"

Xur's laugh evaporated, leaving just an awkward look on his face as he pushed Cal away. "Well…no."

"Ah, good," Trilla cocked her head with folded arms, slowly walking his way. "I would hate to have to revisit your debacle with one Ahsoka Tano."

The zabrak grimaced. "Ah, low blow."

Everyone laughed at that. They needed it…for it was all downhill from here, and they knew it.


The Stinger Mantis and the Fury were assembled not far from each other in a large enough plateau to support the size of both ships before it dropped off into the valley. The desolation of Ziost was peaceful, despite the whispers that Xur couldn't shake, but the vibrant presence of his companions did plenty to drown it all out.

As much as it was slightly awkward to see Cal hugging his girlfriend, he was glad the two of them were able to put their past behind them. It was perhaps one of the last bitter parts remaining within Trilla's heart, and with it gone…the presence she now emitted felt more familiar than ever. The warmth he felt with her hand locked in his was strong, fierce…the same one he could remember when they first laid eyes on each other.

But there was something else…something within her that was enhancing her presence…something that certainly was not there before.

It was actively changing her for the better, but he could not place what it was. Partly it resembled a second beating heart, or at least the remnants of one, and it was actively purging the darkness within her, softening the pain as time passed.

He was glad it was there…but he felt the need to ask her what it was, perhaps once again when they were alone.

Aside from that, he couldn't help but notice that Cal and Merrin had their hands locked together, and he had done his best to hold back on any immature comments that would simply make him look like an asshole. Besides, he much preferred that people left him alone about his attachment to Trilla, so returning the favor felt like a solid step to avoid that.

Xur was proud of them anyway.

The scene when they arrived was a little less festive; Lockdown and Raven speaking together while Cere stood with Greez as he admired his own ship. Upon sight of Cal, BD-1 scuttled from Greez to his companion, clambering up his leg while Merrin laughed at the scene.

"Happy to see you too, buddy!" Cal smiled, lifting him up the rest of the way. Cere cautiously followed, her arms crossed uncomfortably while everyone else assembled around them, somewhat eager for the change of scenery.

"How'd it go?" Cere asked, more towards Cal.

It was somewhat of an awkward moment, as neither he nor Trilla seemed to want to revisit what had happened, and the embarrassment was certainly present on Cal's face, and Xur felt Trilla creep closer to him in almost a hiding manner.

But Cal simply nodded with a small smile. "It went well. I feel like we both got a little better."

Cere only looked to Trilla for a moment before letting her eyes fall downcast. "That's…good…for the both of you."

Trilla's unease increased as the awkwardness settled in, and Xur grew tired of it. "Hey, let's set up a fire," he suggested, as the evening began to darken the landscape. "I'm sure we could all use a little socializing before we get ready tomorrow. There's a lot on the line…and we'll need to be at our best if we're to overcome it."

Greez nodded to that. "That sounds great…even if some of you tried to kill me once or twice…but I've got a few things that can cozy up this creepy place for the night."

"Commander…" Raven asked, his fists balled up with anticipation. "Lockdown and I…well…we were thinking because you have so much in your cabinet…"

Trilla chuckled. "Have at it, trigger men."

While they scurried off in gratitude, already going over what they'd try, everyone split off to assist with the set-up effort, but Xur stayed put with a tentative Trilla, whose mind was elsewhere. After a momentary wait, she shifted behind him and planted a kiss on the nape of his neck.

"There's something I need to do," she said, gliding her hand along his back as she paced towards Cere. "Go have fun. I'll join you in a moment."

He tipped his head. "See you then, hun."

Watching her go, he spotted her gently come behind Cere, her expression inviting, kind and loving…three words that hadn't been associated with Trilla to anyone other than him in many…many years. She had changed so much in such a short time, and he remained adamant that it had nothing to do with her alignment to the Force.

To truly redeem someone took more than just a redefining moment…it took work. Without any true commitment to get better, to really heal, it would only be momentary, and soon enough they would be back to their old, terrible ways. Trilla certainly had her moments, and truthfully it was only recently that he'd seen her really change. There were still remnants of that harsh, unforgiving part of herself, but they came when they were necessary, instead of wearing themselves upon her every waking moment.

And he certainly didn't mind a little Second Sister when it was handy. Trilla had never been soft anyhow, always a little sterner than most of her Padawan counterparts, and yet still maintaining a caring and compassionate personality, which was why she had spent so much time around younglings.

Trilla would probably be a brilliant mother.

Children? No! How could you even consider such a thing?!

The notion almost terrified him. He couldn't imagine having a child…especially not now, with so much work to do. If word ever got out that they shared a child…the Empire would not rest until they got their filthy hands on it.

Xur could only imagine how many imperials would die the day that happened, but he knew better. A child was a liability, and he could not afford something like that now.

Don't even think about it. It's not happening.

He nodded with finality, since he was meaning to check on Petro anyway.


Petro held still as he sat on the medical bed, the holographic interface running over his face as Rava initiated her scan. He had difficulty avoiding the urge to scratch his newly healed skin on his legs. The aches were gone at least, which was thanks to the painkillers he had been popping like pieces of candy since the bacta injections stopped. Other than that, he almost felt good as new…and truthfully, he still regretted nothing.

Even if Brutis had criticized him heavily for jumping in front of an AT-ST blast to save Trilla.

It felt like reconciliation for the powerlessness he had felt the day she had told him to run on Kamparas. With all he had learned, and all he had grown, faced with a chance to actually change her fate for the better was an instinctual reaction that felt natural. There was no consideration behind it…just action, and with all she had suffered to save him from the grasp of the Empire, his debt was repaid.

Rava completed her scan and lowered the above crane mechanism. "Your vitals are strong, and your tissue has been completely repaired. If you have any continued ailments, I suggest painkillers to eliminate it. Other than that, you can move about at your own discretion."

Petro suppressed an immature cheer to that, as Brutis was still standing at the corner of the room. "…thanks Rava," he scratched his head, truthfully eager to get going and contribute again.

"Of course," the little VI bowed her head. "The others are initiating festivities to contemplate the insurmountable odds of the coming mission. As for your morale, I recommend that you join them."

Brutis grumbled in his brooding corner. "Think I'll pass."

"Come on now," Xur interjected, revealing himself. "Don't be like that."

When Petro saw Xur for the first time on Destral, it had been since Ossus before that, and before that on Ilum for the Gathering. He'd always heard stories about the zabrak, and he had only become more impressed with him after he had helped them get out of the close call with the pirate raid and subsequent avoidance of General Grievous. Petro could remember how badly he wished to be like him…winning countless battles…saving the girl.

It was only then that he realized Xur had saved Ahsoka that day, and they were certainly close…and yet he was sharing a serious relationship with Trilla instead. Petro had never noticed a connection between the zabrak and Trilla before, but that was perhaps due to his age at the time. Now, it was so obvious he had to be devoid of all sense not to see it.

Slight jealousy sparked within him. All that time trying to work the Padawan nine years his senior, just to watch his hero scoop her up right from his grasp…and Trilla had only grown more attractive since.

He grimaced. His chances of ever initiating a relationship between he and her were basically zero…Xur or not.

Brutis had ignored Xur's prod, so the zabrak turned his attention to him. "Hey kid. Doing alright?"

Petro nodded, clearing his throat awkwardly when there really was no need to. "Yeah. Rava says I'm good to go."

Xur patted his shoulder. "That's great. You should come out. I'm sure people will be happy to see you. Maybe we can even…" he lowered his voice surreptitiously. "…slip you a drink."

"Is there any whiskey?" Brutis suddenly asked, his intrigue piqued.

Xur scoffed. "You do know whose ship you're on, right?"

The seasoned combatant grumbled, lifting himself from his slouched position. "Fine. Come on, Petro. There's something else I'm going to teach you."

"What?" he asked, sliding off the bed and getting a feel for his limbs. "I can't drink. I'm only fifteen!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up and come with me, "Brutis yanked his arm towards Xur, and the zabrak was quick to avoid them and allow the massive trooper passage. "You'll thank me later."


The latero had been gracious with the set up of their encampment, and Trilla was rather impressed with what they had put together. Aside from fold-out chairs assembled around the fire they had started; a table had been set up for sabacc games and socialization. The boys were busy trying drinks and laughing at each other, while Cere and Greez were simply chatting around the fire, and she intended to join them…since being pregnant cut her out of the fun of drinking any kind of alcohol.

That was becoming harder to cope with than she imagined, as the intense craving was running rampant even from the mere smell of the beverages. It was only then that she realized how addicted she was to it…and how much more difficult having this child may be, not that she ever expected it to be easy in the first place.

In order to throw Xur off, although she worried that if Cal decided to drink, it would also loosen his tongue…but then again, the child was coughing every time it barely entered his mouth, eliciting laughs from his older counterparts.

Besides, he'd remember her threatening warning every time it crossed his mind, drunk or not.

Nursing her own non-alcoholic beverage, Trilla noticed the approaching form of Merrin, who looked slightly flushed.

"Trilla," the nightsister greeted. "Hello."

"Hello," she replied, and it was only then that Trilla noticed how young she looked, much younger than she had originally assumed. "Merrin…right?"

Merrin nodded. "Yes. I was…hoping to ask you something, if you don't mind."

That depends…of course, but I'll bite.

Trilla's nod as she sipped her drink prompted her to continue her train of thought. "How do you get them to…take another step?"

She cocked her head in confusion. "Them?"

Merrin cleared her throat, sifting through embarrassment. "Boys."

"Ah," Trilla recognized, a distinct smirk on her face, also knowing why she would ask such a thing. "Do you know what men want most out of their partner? Safety…warmth… stability," she listed, and Merrin listened intently. "At least the ones you should be pursuing. Tasteless men tend to spend more time considering the size of our tits or the diameter of our bottoms."

Merrin cocked her head in wonder. "Tits…?"

It took a moment for Trilla to realize she didn't know what that meant, and the former inquisitor patted her chest where the distinct curve of her body resided. "These."

"Oh," Merrin noticed, looking down at her own. "Is that a human obsession?"

Trilla giggled. "No, I do not believe it to be exclusive."

"I see," her eyes gazed back to the group of men still sporadically laughing hysterically, and Trilla put two and two together rather easily, especially after watching the two hold hands together.

"Sometimes if you move too quickly, they can get cold feet and run for the hills," Trilla added, and once again Merrin looked confused. "Cold feet as in scared."

"Scared?" she asked. "Why would Cal…I mean…why would a boy be scared?"

"Perhaps he feels insecure about himself, or he feels his life changing so rapidly he feels it would be safer for him to stop. As I said, Merrin, safety and stability are the things men desire but will never admit. Someone like the Pada…like Cal is one to be so worried about making you feel uncomfortable that he will not attempt to take another step, as you put it."

"But he doesn't make me feel uncomfortable…"

Trilla smiled, stepping forward and gently grasping her upper arm with her free hand. "Then you need to show him that. You must realize that us women might need to take the first step, but once you do, it is rare for them to not follow."

The nightsister slowly nodded her head. "I see."

"You're a pretty girl, Merrin," Trilla complimented. "You need only realize it."

She smiled. "Thank you, Trilla…although if we are referring to our respective beauty, you certainly have me beat."

Trilla laughed at that. "Oh, nonsense. In honesty, I forgot to mention that most men have an obsession with exotic women, and I am just another human girl who applies too much makeup."

"You are too humble," Merrin remarked.

Trilla scoffed. "I know for a fact that I am certainly not that. Come now, let's join the others."


"I know you don't have any illusions about this," Xur asked Raven as the two of them conversed away from the assembled others. "How do you rate our chances?"

Raven chuckled, taking a sip of his drink and watching one of Ziost's moons shine overhead. "Honestly? The Empire has already killed you once, and all it really seemed to do was piss you off…"

"Twice, technically," Xur corrected.

"Right, of course," he acknowledged. "With that, I can't image they'll stop you this time…but the Fortress is no joke. It's designed to keep people in, but not necessarily people out, so I think breaching it will be the easy part. However, with all the horrible systems they have set up in that place…we're going to lose people…I don't think there's any getting around that."

Xur grimaced at that, admittedly true, analysis. He found his eyes drifting back to the group behind them, Trilla's smile wide as she laughed with the others. She looked so happy…and the signature she radiated was breathtakingly bright, spreading that happiness to everyone around her, whether they noticed it or not.

And he was about to make her go back to the place that had taken everything away from her.

"Not a happy analysis, I know," Raven admitted, squeezing the shoulder of his old friend. "I won't spread it around."

Xur sighed, his buzz kicking in as he looked away, but not enough to shake the rampant thoughts running through his head. "I keep running the scenario over and over, but every time I imagine us going through that place…someone doesn't make it out…and sometimes none of us make it out."

"They know we're coming," Raven surmised. "I don't think they'll be surprised to see us, so we'll just have to do what we always do."

Xur cocked his head, waiting for his answer.

"Keep beating on the door until it falls," he said, raising his cup.

Xur smacked his own to that. "Damn right."

Both taking a drink, their exasperations were heavy as they shook off the taste. "Oh, that's good," Xur remarked.

Raven chuckled. "The Commander sure knows how to pick out a good ale."

"She has many talents," he nodded with a swell of pride. "That being but one of her best."

I love her so much.

His old Captain rapped his elbow on Xur's back. "You should be with her, Eon. She's happy now…and I'm sure you being with her will only make her happier."

Xur had kept his distance thus far to allow her to socialize with the others, but as his intoxication grew, it was becoming more difficult to follow through with that. The desire to have her body to warm his own was potent, but it was more than that. If they were going to jump into hell tomorrow, then he wanted to spend his last night on earth with her…and he wanted it to be special.

The zabrak nodded, patting Raven on the back and pacing to join the rest of them, who were intently watching Trilla as she spoke.

"Cahka," she said, and immediately Cal, Cere, Greez and Petro had expressions of thought, which was confusing at first.

"That's definitely huttese," Cal noted, and then cocked his head. "Cake?"

Trilla giggled as she shook her head. "No."

Greez grunted, but Cere leaned forward. "Bring?"

"Close," Trilla pointed.

"Carry!" Petro blurted.

"Yes!" Trilla clapped, and Xur finally deducted they were trying to guess the words she spoke…and he certainly would not have been able to guess that.

"I swear I'm going to get one," Cal groaned, taking a drink with a hilarious grimace at the taste following, while Merrin sat close beside him.

"How many do you speak again?" Greez asked.

Trilla's eyes went towards the night sky as she counted. "Huttese, Catharese, Mando'a, Thyrsian, Echani, Old Corellian, Meese Caulf, Proto-Basic, very weak Wookie…some Sith."

Merrin laughed. "Just some Sith on the side, no need to worry."

Everyone laughed at her joke, and Cere reminisced. "Do you remember when we were on…wow what was it…I remember we were stranded on a planet where you had to speak that one dialect of Echani with the natives. I just had to hope and pray you weren't saying anything provocative."

"Oh yes, I remember," Trilla nodded. "I can't remember the name of the planet for the life of me."

Cal raised his hand slightly for her attention. "Has anyone ever talked shit to you in another language, but you never told them you understood?"

"Yes, a few times," Trilla narrowed her eyes. "More recently, when Xur and I were on Vandor," she looked his way, raising her cup in acknowledgment, and he returned the gesture. "One of the card players whispered, 'black-haired slut' under his breath in huttese right after I cleaned him out in sabacc."

Xur scoffed. "You never told me that."

Trilla shrugged. "Wasn't worth noting. The man lost all of his credits anyhow."

"Still…a little fist to the jaw only hurts him," Greez threw in. "I remember my first card fight. I think I broke a few of the tables."

Cal snorted. "I don't know why I actually find that believable."

"I'm with you on that one, General," Lockdown raised his cup, but then backtracked on his statement. "Excuse me…Commander Kestis."

The red head's face fell, and a vibe-killing wave roared through the group as they fell silent, the reminder that Cal Kestis had survived Order 66, fought his way to where he was now…and still was not considered a Jedi Knight.

Lockdown cleared his throat. "Sorry…I didn't mean…"

"No," Cere shook her head, looking to be in thought, until her face snapped into focus, and she rose to her feet. "There's no apology needed."

Cal looked up to Cere in confusion for a moment, until she stepped aside to an open area, and Xur caught on. Pulling one of his hilts from his belt, he tossed it her way, and the former Jedi Master caught it with ease, holding the hilt at her side.

"Kneel," she prompted.

Cal hesitated, his expression wavering around the group as he searched for approval, when there really was no need to. Merrin seemed more confused that he was, but she could sense what may be going on, and she pressed him to step forward.

It was then that Xur remembered how unsure he had been when this time had come.

Cal Kestis, Jedi Padawan, rose to his feet and paced before Cere, dropping to one knee. Cere, with a breath, flicked the switch of the orange blade, illuminating the night…and that's when the moment really hit home for all those observing it.

The beam was lowered to his left shoulder, "By the right of the Council," she recited, and then moved the blade to his right shoulder. "By the will of the Force."

When it nearly tapped the tip of his head, he trembled slightly. "Cal Kestis…rise…Jedi Knight."

He lifted his head proudly, and in that moment, all of his doubt was gone. Cal rose to his full height a knight of the Jedi Order, a guardian of peace and justice in a galaxy that now had little of both.

It almost brought a tear to Xur's eye.

Greez's hands came together into a clap, and soon everyone joined in, Merrin rising to her feet to rush into Cal's arms and pull him in for a passionate kiss, and the cheers only grew at the sight.

"To General Cal Kestis, Jedi Knight!" Raven raised his cup just behind Xur, and everyone seconded that…all but Trilla, whose claps were becoming slower and expression further downcast the longer they persisted, and that made his own suffer the same fate. He didn't sense jealousy, however.

It was disappointment…in herself.

That wasn't fair…not after everything that had happened, not after all she had endured and subsequently overcame. If anyone had proven to have the capabilities of a Jedi Knight, it was her, and she deserved to have her moment.

"What about Trilla?" Petro asked out of the blue, and the celebrations dwindled down as they become aware…and Cere's pride was sapped away in an instant. "I think she should defin-."

"No," Trilla shook her head, drooped in a defeated pose. "I can't."

"Why not?" Brutis asked, more loquacious with enough whiskey in his system.

She sighed. "It's rather elementary. I turned to the Dark Side. The Code forbids it."

Brutis snorted at that. "Fuck the Code."

Merrin seemed to agree. "Cere, you should make her a Knight as well."

Cere's expression drained, and with a destitute sigh, she shook her head. "I…as much as I might want to…I can't," she turned to Trilla, who looked at her former master with a similar expression. "I've forfeited the right to ever grant her such a title. It just…it wouldn't be right. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Trilla tipped her head. "I'm not even sure…I really deserve it."

That's a fucking lie.

Lockdown scoffed. "Well, if I was a Jedi Master, I'd knight you."

That had Xur thinking and delving back into his sporadic and mostly unsuccessful study of The Jedi Path handbook he had lost long ago; one distinct prose came to mind.

"You don't need a Master…" Xur trailed off. "Any Jedi Knight can make another Knight, if he is deemed the ranking Jedi."

Trilla froze in place.

"I'll prove it," Xur pointed, assuming the position Cere had taken, accepting his blade back into his grip, and then prompting just as she had. "Kneel…Padawan Suduri."

She looked at him as if he was a madman, resulting in a mocking scoff. "You can't be serious."

Xur maintained a no-nonsense stare, and he meant it. "Do you want to be a Knight or not?"

Once Trilla realized he was dead serious, the mockery faded, and he felt her insecurity blossom, questions upon questions flaring within the depths of her mind as she desperately searched for an excuse to deny herself this moment. He could see the hurt in her eyes as part of her begged him to leave it be…but a far stronger part of her knew this was right. She knew that with the death of the Second Sister, once and for all, there was nothing standing between herself and reconciliation.

All those Jedi she had hunted, and all those she had killed…the weapon the Empire had forged her into…that had died its final death. Padawan Trilla Suduri was alive, and this was long overdue.

Her eyes came to Cere, and without hesitation, she sent her a nod of approval.

With shaky legs, Trilla rose to her feet and relinquished all that resided in her hands, slowly pacing towards the man who had helped her live again, and Xur's own pride for her was difficult to bottle down as she stood across from him, trying desperately to hold herself proper. Purging the final bits of doubt, Trilla fell to one knee, and bowed her head.

Xur ignited his blade, and all others rose from their seats, pacing to observe such a pinnacle moment for a woman who had touched each of their lives for better or for worse, and all who respected her anyway. The wind churned, and Xur felt the Force shift as darkness fleeted from himself and into the complete manifestation of the energy field that bound the galaxy together.

This was meant to be.

Lowering the blade to her left shoulder, Xur recited the words that came to his heart. "By the right of the Council…by the will of the Force," he ended on her right shoulder, and her trembling came to a head, suppressing the sniffles that came.

The zabrak rose his blade above her head and cast it aside. "Trilla Suduri, once the Second Sister…rise…reborn a Jedi Knight."

Trilla rose to her feet, her eyes shut as she processed the wave that had ripped in the Force, and now had crashed, cascading in the distance, the last remnants of the destructive darkness within her gone forever. When her eyelids opened, the emerald they displayed was clear…the corruptive yellow washed away.

"Thank you," she gasped, and he nodded, his own tears appearing as she stepped forward, wrapping him in a tight hug and pressing her lips against his. Cheers erupted as they shared their moment, maintaining no intention to ever let go.

"To Trilla Suduri…Jedi Knight!"


Cal unruffled the sheets of his bed as he shook them out, pulling them over in a neat fashion. The festivities had concluded, and they all knew they would need rest for the task they would undertake tomorrow. Assaulting the Fortress against an Empire that knew they were coming would be considered a suicide mission by most everyone, and Cal could not find a valid way to disagree.

Still…tonight felt like it was still missing the final piece…one he could not place.

Merrin was standing at his workbench, leaning back as she watched him make his own bed, preparing to retreat to her own room…such a simple routine, and yet its current complication froze her in place.

"I'm…proud of you, Cal," Merrin admitted. "Even if I don't entirely understand what just happened tonight."

Cal chuckled, taking a seat on the mattress. "Thanks Merrin…maybe I'll explain it to you in better detail soon. In short…I've ended my apprenticeship, and now am a true Jedi…" he trailed off, the realization hitting him harder than he expected, even if it had crossed his mind many times since then.

If only Master Tapal could see this.

He knew he'd be proud of him, and now as a Jedi Knight, Cal would carry his legacy into the future…and hopefully beyond.

She stepped forward, pacing his way with a growing smile until she sat right beside him, soothingly running her hand over his back. He felt himself exhale through his nose heavily with her touch, and immediately his joy compounded with her presence. In fact, every time Merrin was beside him, he felt stronger…infinitely more vibrant than before, and it only made him wonder why the Jedi had forbade such feelings.

The Jedi had preached to love others and care for them…so why could he not love one nightsister just a little bit more?

"I…couldn't have done this without you, Merrin," he confessed. "Me becoming a Jedi…you contributed to that more than you might realize."

Merrin smiled, tipping her head. "I knew a little Jedi like yourself could use a little push now and then…but it was the least I could do. I spent so many years alone, contemplating what my life could have been like if my sisters had never been killed. Secluding myself, I had forgotten what it meant to live…until you showed me that there was more to the galaxy than just Dathomir. I could fight…I could do some good with just a few friends and a tiny ship."

Cal chuckled. "The Mantis didn't seem small until we stepped aboard the Fury. That's when I started to develop claustrophobia in here."

She leaned in, wrapping her arms around him. "What about now? Still feel claustrophobic?"

His cheeks heated, but he smiled back, wrapping his own arm around her. "I always feel safe with you…knowing I've got an invisible guardian always watching my back."

"That doesn't frighten you?" she asked, and there was no sarcasm behind it…as it was a valid and honest question.

"No," Cal shook his head, and turned, allowing them space to look each other in the eye with sincerity. "Nothing about you frightens me, and nothing ever will. I don't know how to explain it, but…you're them missing piece I've been searching for since the Purge. I know it."

Merrin's eyes widened longingly.

He searched for the words to talk away his rising feelings, but they were fleeting, and all he could do was stammer. "Merrin…I…"

She lurched forward, kissing him hungrily as her inhibitions were relinquished, and Cal felt his own wash away in that moment as he returned the gesture, pressing forward with a madness he could not explain nor relinquish. Merrin forcefully grasped ahold of his belt and tore it from his clothing, while Cal followed suit, behaving almost like a drone with no control over his own actions.

He wanted to see her. He wanted to see all of her.

Pulling off her top robe, Cal opened her suit and planted kisses on her neck that tasted so sweet he became instantly addicted, unable to pull his mouth from her skin as she relished in the ecstasy it brought. Their movements were rapid, uncontrolled, and only when they both had removed their tops did they find it in themselves to stop.

Cal breathed heavily, part of him ashamed of himself, but certainly rode the high that their passionate moment had granted him. "Sorry…"

Merrin narrowed her eyes, her breathing no easier. "Why…why would you ever be sorry?"

He gulped. "You know…we don't have to…if you don't want to…"

"By the heart of Dathomir, just shut your mouth," she giggled and kissed him again, her tongue slithering down his throat as she pushed him back, her legs spread across his chest as he finally took her advice…and shut his damn mouth.

Trilla had been right. There was nothing better than this.


Trilla walked beside Xur, her arm locked around his as they paced through the desolate landscape, the quiet of the night allowing a calm reprieve to quell her raging emotions that had taken her this evening. After so much had occurred, simply strolling with her lover was all she could ask for. They planned on only a quiet pace before heading off to sleep…as they would certainly need their strength tomorrow.

Xur had a potent desire to lovemake with her, and she could sense that quite easily, but she had convinced him on this slow pace for a reason…more of a chance to allow herself to contemplate a difficult decision. Before, she was sure of it, but after what he had done for her today, she felt the need to tell him.

The need to tell him she was pregnant.

She figured, with how happy the two of them were now, and the fact that what transpired tomorrow could change them forever, she had only realized the uncertainty of the moment. For all she knew…there may not be another time to tell him, and if anything, knowing she bore his child would only be another reason to fight just a little harder…to press the issue only an inch more, which could make all the difference.

He leaned over, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Hun, what's up?"

Trilla shook her head and forced a bright smile. "Oh, nothing. Just…glad you're here."

Ugh…that's not suspicious at all.

That was when he stopped, his look of concern evident. "Trilla…come on. Look, even before today I've noticed something different about you…since the little thing in the shower."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to switch the owner of the high ground. "You didn't like that?"

"I loved it," he stated flatly. "But every action has a reason or motive behind it…and there's something going on with you that has changed your attitude drastically, and I know it's not just from the…activities we've been engaging in."

She frowned. "Is it a bad thing that I am a better person?"

"It's a beautiful thing," he implored. "But I can't for the life of me place what the catalyst was…and I can…even now…sense something different about you."

Just tell him.

Trilla swallowed heavily, and feeling an unnecessary need for discretion, she pressed forward, adjusting his hair with her real hand, and letting her fingers fall over his cheek.

"I'm going to tell you something…but you have to promise me you will react with rationality," she pleaded.

He seemed worried, but he nodded. "I promise."

The words were not that came to a head. Instead, using her free hand, she gently grasped his wrist and guided his hand to her stomach, and opened his fingers to feel. "Tell me what you feel."

Xur's eyes widened slowly, and in a sudden move, he pushed away, looking at her as if she was a stranger. "You…no…"

"Yes," she nodded, stepping forward to pull him in, only to watch him back away further. "Xur…please…"

"No!" he shouted in anger. "We agreed! You told me…you promised me!"

"I know, and I'm sorry!" she plead, her emotions boiling over, begging only for him to understand. "But I just kept…I just kept imagining what could be."

Xur growled. "We do not live in a fairy tale, Trilla! How could you…how could you be so utterly fucking stupid?!"

Trilla froze, and immediately she felt the confrontational part of her wrap its arms around her heart. Her teeth grit, and she growled. "I suffered for years at the hands of the Empire. How dare you deny me this!"

"How dare I?" he spat. "How dare I understand that this is impossible! Once this child is born, they will forever live hunted by the Empire, and after what they did to you…imagine what they will do to them!"

"Is that what we've done?" she challenged. "All these years…have you lived them in fear? Have you spent every waking moment trembling at the prospect of the Empire tracking you down and rounding you up?"

He had no retort, merely fuming as he listened.

"No! You fought!" she growled; her passion ignited like a bonfire. "No matter what odds were placed before you, you fought anyhow…and now…you want to deny us a chance to live…because you're afraid?!"

His eyes shut, huffing in frustration.

"You coward."

"Indeed."

Trilla's gold blade was ignited in a flash, pointing the blaze directly into the face of their eavesdropper as her senses manifested. Illuminated, they did not flinch at her attack, and with the confirmation, Trilla's eyes slanted with intense focus.

"You…" Trilla recognized, barely a whisper.

Valeria Eon maintained her stance, her hands clasped behind her back as Trilla's blade threatened to burn at her chin. She merely stared down at her with her slightly superior height, and immediately Trilla suffered a resurgence of visions and flashbacks all belonging to the Second Sister, and all the venomous words she had to suffer via the woman standing before her…Xur's mother or not.

Valeria cocked her head, looking past the blade. "You are correct, Trilla Suduri. My son seems to have forgotten that fear must never guide his actions, for it only clouds all things."

Xur bitterly looked away. "Mother…"

"How did you find us?" Trilla demanded, not lowering her blade.

She sighed. "Ziost is my home…which I can imagine is why he chose this place to reside for the night…just before your imminent attack on the Fortress you and I know so well."

Trilla turned her head in an analytical sense, trying to get a beat on why she was here, and what she intended.

"Lower your blade, my dear. I have no intention to harm you," she promised. "What you have sacrificed for my son…you will never once consider me an enemy of yours."

There was a sincerity to her tone that was motherly, and naturally began to lower her guard, but years of picking apart liars and manipulators shored it back up, knowing better than to take her word for it…but as she considered it, she realized how unwarranted this continued to be. The First Sister, while a rival, had never harmed her…in fact the rivalry was very one-sided, as Trilla dished out the brunt of the insults while Valeria hardly bothered to recognize her. She was merely a challenging figure…and from what she had been told…all she cared about was protecting her son…her family.

Their interests were aligned.

Her blade extinguished, and Trilla took a deep breath, expelling her animosity for a more analytical approach. "What is it you want?"

"I merely wanted to wish you both good luck, but it seems I have stumbled upon yet another one of my son's oversights," she scolded, her intense stare falling upon Xur, who had no retort. "She speaks truthfully, my dear," she stepped forward, searching for his eyes. "Do not tell me that after all I taught you…you will shout down the woman who has been your muse…your drive for all this time. Your resilience to win her heart was absolute…and now when she wishes to expand your legacy, you're allowing it to flounder and crack right before my eyes."

Xur still had no response, but his eyes trailed back to his mother, and Trilla felt his defiance weaken.

"Look at her," Valeria prompted, and with slight reluctance, Xur let his gaze fall back upon Trilla, and she felt his regret take hold as his anger dissipated. "Do you believe that she is incapable of protecting your child?"

"Well, no, but-."

"Then I fail to see what the issue is," his mother shrugged. "You showed her how to be rid of her fear…now be rid of yours. Imagine what kind of statement could be made with the birth of this child…to show the Empire cannot hope to control you and show how powerless the Sith truly are."

With that, he sighed with embarrassment, and Trilla felt her elation return at his turned feelings. "You're right."

Valeria tipped her head. "Good. Do not forget this lesson…and now…I must bid you farewell."

Xur reached out. "You're not going to help us?"
"No…this is your path to walk, and yours alone. There are…other matters I must attend to…and if you are successful, then the galaxy will be ready for you to purge it of the darkness that has swept across its surface," she reasoned. "I have left a gift aboard your ship…a final token for your mission. You will find it quite…acceptable."

Xur swallowed roughly, likely at the prospect of leaving his mother again, but he nodded. "I understand…and thank you."

She merely flashed her eyes downwards before turning away, pacing into the darkness. "Protect my son, Trilla Suduri. This galaxy needs the two of you more than you know."

"I will," Trilla promised, just as they lost sight of her for the last time.

Alone, they stood apart, but once the moment had relinquished its hold, Xur pressed forward and wrapped her in his arms tighter than ever before, the movement of his muscles felt across her body. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I was stupid, not you. I know this was a difficult thing for you to do…and I punished you for it."

"It's alright," she eased, altering her voice into an almost motherly tone, softening his raging emotions into a beautiful serenity. "I should have told you."

He sniffled. "I'm going to be a father…"

"Yes," she pulled away to look him in the eye. "And you're going to be a damn good one too."

Xur pulled her hair from her face and grasped the side of her neck gently. "I can't imagine anyone else to do this with…I love you, Trilla."

"And I love you," she kissed his cheek. "With all my heart."


Mustafar, 14 BBY

Vader's Castle

Anakin.

Anakin…

Anakin!

Vader's eyes erupted open after another nightmare had run its course, and he was instantly reminded of the bacta bath that surrounded his mutilated body, its healing liquid still working to repair his charred and ruined flesh. Those that had shouted the name of The Jedi were voices that were long extinguished…souls that had been long expunged from this world…some by his own hand.

There was no word…he would sense it anyhow.

Focusing his eyes forward, he drifted through the liquid and to the glass of his container, his stare bearing into the durasteel door to his healing chambers.

Your move, Eon.


That was far longer than I envisioned, and the next chapter may be twice as long…for it is the finale of the "novel" part of this story. Please be prepared for a longer wait for that chapter, as it may very well be in excess of 20,000 words.

Stay healthy and safe, for the assault begins at dawn.

See you then!