Smells Like Teen Spirit

"We're all just entertainers."

19 BBY – Resolute

"So that's it? We're just going to abandon Bo Katan and her people?" Ahsoka vehemently protested, her arms crossed and scowl evident as the battle sirens blared around the hangar bay.

"Ahsoka, surely you understand that this is a pivotal moment in the Clone War," Obi-Wan justified while Anakin could only awkwardly stand by while the two argued. "Coruscant is under attack…the heart of the Republic."

"I understand, that as usual you're playing politics," she spat, more frustration behind her tone than venom. "I'm not going to let all the work I did go to waste, not when Bo Katan and I are this close."

Obi-Wan sighed. "You can't let your selfishness cloud your judgment, Ahsoka. Right now, the people of Coruscant need us."

Ahsoka could tell that her former master was in agreement with her but had elected to stay silent. Ever since she had been promoted to Jedi Knight only recently, Anakin had been more lenient in letting her pursue her own leads or missions, and to think of throwing off a good lead on Maul's location was utter madness from her view.

Sometimes she wished she had left the Order instead of listening to her friend's pleas for her to wait out the war. It was some feigned sense of duty that she felt she owed to the galaxy, and if she left then it would only be an abandonment of that obligation…but that obligation only became weaker as time pressed on, and after she and Xur had a relative fallout of their friendship, her ties to the Jedi had been strained to the breaking point.

Not to mention the other, more sensitive fallout that she had kept to herself.

"The Chancellor needs us," she corrected, stalwart and stubborn on her viewpoint.

Now Anakin decided to step in, which was what she expected. "Ahsoka…"

"I am not coming with you to Coruscant, Master," she denied. "Whether you approve it or not, Bo Katan needs my help, and she's going to get it."

Subtly she could sense that her ultimatum did not resonate well within either of them, but she knew that they both respected a passionate stance behind what was right, Anakin especially so.

Anakin sighed. "I'll…divide the five-oh-first, and create a new division under Ahsoka's command," he suggested, which earned a tested glance from Obi-Wan who seemed more fed up with arguing about it than anything else.

"I don't like this…" he admitted. "But if you are not willing to let this go, and Anakin will accommodate you…then very well."

Ahsoka suppressed a sigh of relief, and only bowed in gratitude. "Thank you."

"Anakin, we need to move," Xur's voice came in through his wrist-comm. "I've already thrown together a response team."

"Good," Anakin replied. "Don't worry, we'll be right behind you."

His communication died after that with the urgency, and Ahsoka felt a pang to her heart with his unwillingness to speak with her, but she set it aside. The reason behind their divide was much more childish than she was willing to admit…but it was enough.

"One thing, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan pulled her from her train of thought. "I killed Maul once. Best to capture him. He doesn't seem to stay dead."

She tipped her head. "I'll consider that. Thank you."

Obi-Wan disappeared through the exit doorway soon after, leaving her alone with Anakin, who seemed very anxious to get going. The togruta smirked at that, and he smiled back, despite the tension between them.

"I'm sorry about this…Master."

"Don't be," he waved off. "You're following your heart, just like I taught you."

Ahsoka smiled awkwardly, and Anakin took his cue to turn away. Something ate at her to stop him, and it was almost instinct that had her call out, "Anakin!" He stopped and turned back, and when she didn't know what to tell him, she said, "Good luck."

All he granted her was a reassuring smile, before the door closed.

That was the last time she ever saw him.


13 BBY – Lorrd

The cold splash of water against Ahsoka's face was becoming less effective the more times she tried it as a method of waking herself up, and the brisk yet cooling feeling it granted her was beginning to diminish as well. Nightmares were things she had become accustomed to by now, but none worse were the ones that entailed her former, and certainly deceased, master. They had never ceased, not even long after the last time she had ever felt him within the Force, and the pang of regret that followed was relentless.

There were so many things she'd dreamed herself saying to him just before that sheet of durasteel stole him from her, or just the many times she had passed up a chance to speak to him while she was on Mandalore…right before her world was destroyed. How many chances escaped her just because she took the present for granted?

After Order 66 she was faced with a choice, live every day like it was her last, or don't live at all. She'd chosen the latter, as the former would certainly get her killed one way or another, and with all the good she could do, it felt like an obligation to commit herself to helping others against the Empire.

There I go again…with those damn obligations.

Ahsoka had begun to wonder at which point enough became enough and whether going out fighting against the Empire was a better option than constant hit and run attacks from her various agents across the galaxy. She'd done good work thus far under the codename "Fulcrum", maintaining a vast collection of Imperial information through the loyalties of those she had saved, or the connections she had to some in the Imperial Senate. Her importance as an information broker had her doing more coordinating than fighting, which was somewhat of a nice change of pace. Almost none of her agents knew her real name as to maintain secrecy, and as far as the Empire was concerned, Ahsoka Tano was long dead.

Work had been slow for a while, her attacks safe and so small that the Empire mostly ignored her efforts, that was until a hydrogen bomb was detonated on the planet Nur. While the Empire had masterfully covered up the incident, she had already become very aware of its true entailment, even if the death of her agent within the Inquisitorious cut off her supply of information. Fortress Inquisitorious had been vaporized from the inside, and since, Ahsoka had seen much less reports of Inquisitors prowling for Jedi survivors, which means that their disaster had the intended consequences of the assailant. The details were shoddy at best, and the people involved only less so. From what she could gather, a high member of the Imperial brass defected and allowed an incursion team to slip through and destroy the Fortress, which had Imperial losses in the thousands, as well as the deaths of whichever Inquisitors were currently stationed there.

She could only hope imprisoned Jedi were not among those losses.

The sink knob squeaked as she shut off the flowing water, deciding not to dwell on the details much. What mattered was that now the Imperial network was in utter chaos as wind of what had occurred reached the ears of those looking to exploit it…as well as the lesser known rumors of a supposed Greater Imperium amassing insurgent forces in an orbiting dwarf galaxy. Ahsoka wasn't even sure if that were true, and the Empire has been even less successful than she'd been searching for answers. Even so, the implications that came with something as outlandish as that had people on both sides frantic and uneasy.

Ahsoka looked at herself in the mirror, swiping up a towel to dry her bronze skin, and then proceeded to dress herself, pulling over her gauntlets, boots and all. Gesturing for her door to slide open, she was greeted to her computer setup within her personal ship the Shadowbolt, which was an over-the-top name and a gift from her supporter in the Senate. With top notch stealth systems, it was quick and virtually untraceable, serving her very well to stay out of the Empire's gaze while also maintaining her connections. She'd only been on Lorrd for a few days, and the icy planet had been the center of no one's attention as its resources were virtually depleted by now.

What was the center of her attention was the crashed ship she had been investigating since she had arrived. Touching down in a ruined heap at the edge of Lorrd's north pole, the vessel was unlike anything she'd ever seen, and she'd only barely begun to scratch the surface on its design.

Today she'd just have to try a bit harder.

Once she confirmed she had no new developments for today, she pulled over her coat, concealing her constructed hilts. Applying protective goggles with a snap of the latex strap behind her head, her hood came next, and she lowered the loading ramp…

And immediately she felt something was different from yesterday.


"Say hi to Daddy!"

Xur could only hear a jumble of the old cliché "goo-goo" and "ga-ga" from his newborn daughter as he listened in over his wrist comm, marching through the snow as he approached his destination. The adorable jumble made him chuckle to himself, "Hi Katara…"

Trilla laughed back as Katara continued to mumble within the comm. "I've been doing my best to keep her occupied, which is a harder challenge than you may think."

"Oh, trust me, I know," Xur replied, keeping his eyes forward as the perfect white that the snow adopted became sullied by a black streak of a crash landing. "You forget that the last time I held her she threw up on my chest."

He wasn't a huge fan of that.

"Awww…did you throw up on Daddy?" she cooed, and Katara responded, making her chuckle. "She says you're a liar."

"The idea that you understand that gibberish actually sounds feasible, to be honest," he admitted, fighting off a shiver. The insulation his suit provided was working wonders, as well as the application of his helmet staving off frostbite from claiming his nose.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me for translation, as always," he could tell she winked at the end of that, even if he couldn't see her.

"Is she going to speak fifty languages like you?"

Trilla scoffed. "Not if she's her father's daughter."

"Ouch," Xur winced. "I'm sorry I spent most of my time learning how to fight instead of focusing on obscure words I'll never need to know."

"Those obscure words have freed us from trouble on many occasions," she continued, and he heard her set Katara down in her capsule for now.

"Nothing a good lightsaber couldn't've fixed."

She groaned. "You're such a brute. Perhaps next time you require such translations I will purposely do so incorrectly."

"You'd just be screwing yourself over most of the time."

"I'll take those odds."

Xur snorted. "Ah…of course you would," she was petty that way.

"When are you coming back?"

The zabrak groaned. "I've been gone for a day…"

"You speak as if that isn't a long time," her tone became more measured, almost a warning that tried to hide her pleading.

"Trilla…I promised Reyna I'd look into this," he reminded her, which was the only reason they had set down on this ice ball in the first place. "Besides, I got a good feeling about this one."

She hesitated for a moment, and he heard her step into another room, likely her training set up. "You better not be saying that just to make me feel better."

"You'll be alright, Trilla," he insisted, stopping once he approached the ship crash he had been tailing.

"You want to know why I'm worried?"

He indulged her. "Why?"

"Because I have a bad feeling about this one."

Xur chuckled, but she didn't seem to find it as amusing as he did. "You're paranoid. Don't do that. It will only stress you out."

"I can't help it with your carefree attitude," she snapped.

"It's going to be fine, Trilla."

"If you insist," she accepted, and he heard her undressing her heavier clothing to begin training, to which he had to settle to imagine her doing so for his enjoyment. "But when I have to bail you out…I'll be certain to say I told you so."

"I wouldn't even be mad at that point, hun," he admitted, and then knew he had to get to work. "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered. "Stay safe please."

"I will," he promised, and the connection died…as did a part of his current joy. He knew trying to ease Trilla's longingness for him to be around was a two-way street, also attempting to convince himself that he'd be alright. This was the first extended period in which they were away from each other, and it hurt more than he would admit. Having her radiant personality not be present was like losing a limb almost, if not just to have her hand in his…or to just feel her soothing presence nearby. All of that was so faint now…insufficient.

It only showed him how much he loved her…and it was all the more reason to wrap this investigation up quickly.

Circling the wreck, it became immediately apparent that this may not be an easy task, as the ship was truly unlike any he had ever seen before. Upon closer inspection, he quickly realized that none of it was made of durasteel…more of a rocky hull that towered above him. The closest resemblance he could come up with was perhaps washed up coral on a beach, or maybe even an asteroid.

And the stench was foul…like thousands of dead bodies left to rot in the hot sun.

"Looking for something?"

Xur's eyes bulged behind his helmet, and he swore he had just heard a ghost.


13 BBY – Coruscant

Vader never took a seat for any congregation of the Empire's lesser men, and even less so for the high brass of the Imperial Navy. The simple gesture already entailed a dead weight loss to his intimidation factor, a very powerful tool at his disposal that could not afford any kind of diminishment. These men in stuffed shirts and pressed tunics quickly forwent their pompous behavior when in his presence, and while the Dark Lord experienced no amusement, that was the closest he would ever come to it.

Even so, the news of his failure to prevent the annihilation of Fortress Inquisitorious had already caught fire within the brass long ago, which made his intimidation factor all the more valuable as the boldness of these scavengers became more apparent. Many of them hid behind his master's protection, and the man sitting in the most extravagant chair around the table was perhaps the guiltiest of that heinous crime. Grand Moff Tarkin had trained perhaps the most devastating inside operative to ever strike against the Empire, and yet he had navigated the minefield that surrounded him masterfully, disregarding the insurgent former Admiral Vorchenko as ever being his student in proper…and the Empire had bought it. Only a few still held him accountable, Vader being one of those few, but not enough of those who mattered.

Since, Tarkin had surrounded himself with potential solutions to patch the nearly fatal hull damage Vorchenko had wreaked upon the Empire and had thus began questioning of all those who were closest to her. This investigation had about as much success as Vader's attempts to track down Xur Eon and Trilla Suduri, two of his own loose ends that had remained mostly secretive for now. Eon had been eluding his gaze for years, and he'd trained Suduri to be the most lethal and silent hunter the Empire had to offer, two facts that were now proving detrimental to the continued stability of the Empire.

How Suduri had managed to break from his hold was an even greater mystery.

The Jedi could've found the two of them by merely peering into the Force, but Darth Vader was just as blind as ever, which made about as much sense as Tarkin's ability to come out unscathed from the entire ordeal. With all his power, he should be able to latch on to the old connections he still retained from The Jedi, but it was as if he was being actively blocked…shielded.

Vader was never frightened, but the idea of a being other than his master projecting enough power to shield Eon and Suduri from his sight…was intriguing to say the least, should it even be true.

The Dark Lord tabled that thought for another time.

Colonel Yularen had been the one speaking through Vader's thought processes, mostly political lingo and careful maneuvers that Vader never found useful in his own pursuits.

That was until he actively began to argue with Tarkin himself.

"I find you accusations unfounded and utterly ridiculous, Governor," Yularen protested, his white mustache the most defining feature he bore. "Agent Elena Markov has proven her loyalty to the Empire time and time again. Do not attempt to sink one of my students immediately after one of yours commits high treason."

"A pity we do not have an institution to investigate such threats to Imperial security," Tarkin slickly bit back. "Your reputation is at stake, Colonel."

"My reputation is precisely why your accusations are baseless," Yularen countered. "Agent Markov is loyal to the Empire, and she has been adamant in her request to help track down your traitorous Admiral."

"That will be quite unnecessary. Reyna Vorchenko is, by all means, long gone, and that fault falls squarely on the shoulders of the now deceased Admiral Slovis, whose incompetence was allowed to flourish under the eyes of our own Lord Vader," Tarkin's eyes turned to him, and Vader granted him nothing, knowing a response was precisely what the Moff desired. "As well as the obvious ineffectiveness of our mystic division to deal with Force-sensitives who have the greatest potential of inflicting maximum damage. If I am not mistaken, one had even defected…"

Tarkin was brilliant at shifting the subject, and Vader knew better than to take part in the vicious cycle of blame that continued. The fact of the matter was the Empire had failed as a whole to contain this situation, and it was turning the entire high brass against one another. The Dark Lord was never one to back down, but inciting discord within command was counter-productive, and created breeding grounds for dissent to flourish during its chaos.

And increasing dissent only enticed more traitors to become bolder, something the Empire could not afford at this time, not with the Inquisitorious in shambles and the high brass covering its own bases. Whatever solution they came up with at this gathering had to be a convincing one that satisfied all problems at once…and it was very rare that one solution ever did.

Vader's silence proved to be eerie enough to ward Tarkin away, and he finally seemed to conclude his tirade. "Fortunately, we may have a solution to solve both problems simultaneously. Our Emperor has assigned Commodore Thrawn," he motioned towards the chiss male who had sat quietly at the other end of the round table. "To begin studying these insurgents…as well as offering an alternative solution for the foolhardy use of the Inquisitorious."

Had his master not made it clear many times that Tarkin was not to be harmed, he would've snapped the man's neck then and there.

Tarkin tipped his head. "Commodore…you may proceed."

"Thank you, Governor," Thrawn bowed in return. "From what I can gather thus far, it is quite apparent to me that former Admiral Vorchenko's greatest strength is that she does not think like any regular rebel or insurgent we have yet come across. You have stated before, Moff Tarkin, that you trained her yourself, and is aware of many typical Imperial strategies, if not all of them. Simply put, the Empire has not faced an enemy such as this before."

This blue-skinned and red-eyed man certainly specialized in stating the obvious.

"The same can be said for her very close Jedi ally, Xur Eon, who, as it were, does not exercise the typical assumptions that come from such warriors. The Inquisitorious tends to use collateral damage via civilian casualties to draw out their Jedi prey, but Eon has proven to not care how many of the Empire's own people they kill, and has used that to terminate…eight inquisitors, if I am not mistaken."

His eyes were on Vader for his confirmation, and the Dark Lord only rumbled. "Correct."

"Even when bending the Second Sister to your will, a woman close to him, in an effort to shatter his resolve, it only seemed to embolden his attacks, as well as make him an even more dangerous opponent. He is…by my interpretation, a strategically sound Jedi Knight, and a combination of his resolve with Vorchenko's knowledge of Imperial strategy creates a nigh-invincible combination to oppose our Emperor's rule."

Hearing Thrawn praise Xur Eon made Vader want to cut him down.

Tarkin cocked his head. "So what is your proposal?"

Thrawn shrugged. "It is quite simple, Governor…we change the game."


13 BBY – Lorrd

Ahsoka had never thought her voice to be that ominous, or even stunning for that matter, but the way the armored man she stumbled across reacted challenged that assumption. Her hands were already wrapped around her hilts beneath her coat, but she did not draw them, not yet. They weren't Imperial…that much was certain, but he didn't exactly adopt a friendly pose.

That was until he uttered her name in a barely detectable whisper.

The togruta's hands flinched slightly, and she cocked her head. "You're a little excessively dressed for a bounty hunter."

"Huh?" he questioned; voice projected by his helmet. "Oh…the suit."

When he reached up, she jerked again, but he held his hands out in an easing manner, and she allowed him to unhinge his helmet and reveal his face.

Ahsoka could not muster any words in Basic as her mouth gaped open in shock, and now it was her turn to be stunned. Despite his unshaved black hair, Xur Eon looked almost exactly as she remembered last seeing him…that angular-diamond shaped head and lack of black tattoos against his crimson skin. The last time she'd ever saw him…it was so long ago, and it hadn't ended well.

"I thought you were dead," he admitted.

Ahsoka felt her head shake involuntarily. "I thought you were dead…twice."

Barriers were shattered in that moment, and suddenly neither of them seemed to care how they parted ways. With blissful excitement, they ran to each other and embraced, bathing in the incredible revelation that despite all that had happened, they had both managed to keep breathing and find each other once again. His armor admittedly poked up against her coat, but she didn't care…she was so happy to see him.

When they finally pulled away, Xur gleamed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she smiled back. "As well as all this shady activity you've been up to."

Her reveal made him take a step back, cocking his head. "What do you mean?"

"Don't do that to me," she crossed her arms, but made sure to project a friendly demeanor. "You owe me some stories, that's for sure."

"Last I checked, you and I were squared away," he narrowed his eyes. "And maybe we'll get to that. You still haven't answered my first question."

Ahsoka shrugged. "What do you think I'm here for?"

Xur caught on quickly, which was one of his good traits, able to adapt to a rapidly changing situation on a dime. "You're asking for an expedition partner."

"I'm asking if you're here to help me," she corrected.

"If that's what you're offering."

"It is."

Xur mulled that, and eventually adopted a smirk. "I'm not digging."

"That's fine," Ahsoka accepted. "I just want you to talk."


13 BBY – Coruscant

Agent Elena Markov sincerely hoped her skills were better recognized as a dissent diffuser than a mere translator. Years of training under the Imperial Security Bureau after enlisting at 18 promised her much in terms of being able to use her wits and fire a blaster from time to time, and her side vocation of learning the chiss language Cheunh was seen merely as an elective.

Now it restricted her to escort duty, as well as her recently wrapped-up investigation into her fraying connection to one treasonous Admiral Reyna Vorchenko. While they had not been overly invasive upon her, they hadn't exactly been observant of her privacy, and it was brutal to realize how quickly her superiors would turn on her once something catastrophic such as this took place. Everyone was looking for a scapegoat, and she'd been lucky enough to escape with the backing of Colonel Yularen.

The gold in her eyes was a total contrast to the red that the armored chiss female beside her bore, her slightly shorter counterpart keeping her eyes focused forward. Dressed in the typical black and red for Imperial special forces, the white Imperial insignia was painted on both her shoulder plates, and her composite armor fit snugly around her frame.

"You have to try to speak Basic in front of them," Markov reminded her, and the chiss looked at her with a stark, barely understanding gaze. "Tisut Bipim, ttis'ah," she translated in Cheunh.

She looked flushed and slightly unsure of herself, which was an expression she had only ever shown to her. "I try," she responded, heavily accented. "Thrawn show me few words, but…" she struggled. "…hah cart chitcuto."

"Difficult," she sounded out.

"Difficult. Yes," she nodded.

Markov sighed. The Empire had never been kind to aliens, and while she'd only known the science experiment of a girl for a short time, the slight innocence she displayed made her worry for her feelings…even after seeing what she could do.

"Let's just hope your fighting ability impresses them," she eased, to which the chiss seemed to understand after a moment of staring.

Their time was up anyhow. Through the sliding durasteel door walked Commodore Thrawn, followed by Governor Tarkin, Colonel Yularen…and Darth Vader. Markov had only ever seen the Emperor's frightening enforcer once before, and that was from a distance. Up close, all of the stories she'd ever heard about him were instantly confirmed, towering over the other officers with room to spare…not to mention his incessant breathing.

It only made her feel even worse for her new chiss friend.

"Ritocum, Vigan'era'hrorra," Thrawn greeted with a slight bow, to which she bowed back in return. "Gentlemen, this is Nerah, as I am sure you would prefer to refer to her by her core name. She recently arrived here from Csilla and will be part of my proposed response to the rising dissent within the Empire."

Tarkin looked on with a bit of skepticism. "I am unsure how a mere child will be able to have much success in this endeavor, Commodore."

Nerah didn't seem to notice or understand his mild insult, but Markov felt her expression twitch into a scowl momentarily.

"I assure you, Governor, she is perhaps the most lethal and devastating warrior my people have produced from our strict military caste, and it was only careful maneuvering that landed her into my care," Thrawn explained, tipping his head. "She has received a few natural enhancements that increase her speed, strength, agility and senses."

Nerah cleared her throat. "Super soldier."

At least the word wiped some skepticism away…aside from Vader, to which Markov could not tell.

"Is she fluent in Basic?" Yularen asked.

Thrawn was about to answer, but Nerah stepped in before he could. "Understand…okay. Speak…difficult."

Yularen turned his eyes to Markov, to which the rest followed. "She's making great progress," the ISB agent reported. "After only a week she's gone from a clean slate to sentence formation, and she understands most words."

Vader seemed impatient, and less interested. "If she is a super soldier, then I require a demonstration."

"And you shall have it, my lord," Thrawn promised, turning to the large hangar that had been outfitted as a subtle training course, and then made a gesture to an officer working in the distance. Almost on cue, stormtroopers assembled around the course, preparing a gauntlet for Nerah to run. "I have constructed this to display her skills first-hand, and if you require any further proof, you are welcome to introduce new elements."

Tarkin massaged his chin for a moment but seemed to be in agreement. "Very well. I suppose there is no harm in seeing if she is capable of what you claim."

"Excellent. Agent Markov, if you would escort Nerah to her position," Thrawn directed. "The rest of you may follow me for a better viewpoint."


13 BBY – Fury

Trilla sighed heavily as she pulled her robing back over to properly conceal herself, holding the infant Katara in her arms as she finished feeding her. The baby wasn't much capable of anything at her current age, but Trilla loved to simply watch her move in her arms, feeling the child's warmth as well as the soothing protective instinct that came with caring for her daughter. Already she knew she was a high-energy girl, and it took much for Trilla to wear her out before sleep finally conquered her, which spared the young mother a night full of crying and wailing.

Only a month had gone by since she gave birth, and she'd be lying if she said she never had second thoughts. It was a serious commitment, much more serious than she admittedly had imagined, resulting in a few sleepless nights that had she and Xur arguing on occasion. The misery was mounting, but Trilla's love for Katara knew no bounds, and she knew the same could be said for her father. Her daughter was so precious…truly to the point that she'd do anything to protect her.

Anything.

Katara adorably looked around with her dark green eyes, an exotic combination against her crimson skin, which would make up for the fact that she would not develop the iconic zabrak horns. Trilla was fine with that, as the prickly things were bound to poke her a few times during her childhood. From what she could tell, and what Rava had told her, Katara's black hair was a given, as both she and Xur had black hair, and her facial structure favored Trilla more than it did Xur. Her body composition was mostly human, as since the egg was human of origin, and the commands it had been given had been mostly overridden by nature, as not to result in any major cross-species birth defects. It was a fascinating process, really.

In layman's terms, or if Trilla had to describe her daughter without an image to help, she'd say Katara was near her spitting image with a bulkier build…but that was mostly speculation. She wouldn't really know until the girl was fully grown into a woman.

Katara's eyes were beginning to shut, and Trilla bobbed up and down as she carried her over to her capsule, which had proven to be a much more efficient choice instead of a crib. The quiet insulation had proven very calming for the infant, which had been a nice counterbalance to her strength in the Force…which was very important. She was very adept at sensing animosity, and any time Trilla felt any bit of frustration or anger, Katara would begin to cry, almost like an alarm to warn her of her own feelings.

And Trilla's frustration only began to mount as each day passed with Xur not with her.

Setting her sleeping daughter within the capsule and shutting it closed, Trilla exhaled with relief as she shut the door behind her, trying to physically wipe the exhaustion from her face via her hands. It was so heavy in fact that she nearly jumped at the sight of Rava rolling around the corner.

"Apologies, Trilla," the VI bowed. "I did not mean to startle you."

Trilla groaned. "It's alright. Any word on what Xur is up to?"

"He is still on Lorrd's north pole as he reported yesterday," she relayed. "Although he has not moved much since."

He was most likely investigating the ship Vorchenko had requested, but that wouldn't take all day, and he certainly would not go a day without calling her. Xur was supposed to call in an hour ago, and it had soured her mood immensely that he still had not. Still, she took into account unforeseen events of the sort, and also the possibility that he had found something, but Trilla wasn't sure she'd be able to sleep tonight if she hadn't heard from him. She'd never been able to sleep when she was the Second Sister knowing a Jedi was on the loose, but she chalked that up to her natural anxiety.

That bad feeling kept nagging her, and she was beginning to suspect he may be in trouble.

After about twenty minutes of trying to shake it off, she'd had enough.

"Rava, I'm going out to search for him. I need you to look after Katara for me," she said, already pacing to her wardrobe.

The VI began to protest. "Trilla, I hardly have the platform to be a nurse droid."

"Which is why I'm going now," Trilla explained. "Hopefully Katara will sleep through this whole ordeal."

Wishful thinking, at best.

Rava huffed. "Very well. I will set us down near his last location."

Trilla left her to that. She needed to get dressed.


13 BBY – Coruscant

Markov felt slightly out of place among the highest elites of the Empire, their eyes fixed upon the training course for Thrawn's promised demonstration. She didn't mind dealing with them from time to time, but personally observing a potential supreme asset felt well above her pay grade…so she placated that feeling by standing beside her direct superior, Colonel Yularen, that way to feel more like an aide to his service.

Thrawn asking for her opinion was ruining that immersion, as well as frustrating Darth Vader more than she was comfortable with. It was quite obvious that he preferred they all shut their mouths and watch, but it couldn't have been the first time the Dark Lord had ever had to deal with the platitudes of other elite officers.

"Has she adapted well to the new hierarchy?" Thrawn asked, to which Markov lowered her head to at least show she was slightly uncomfortable.

"She's quite quick with virtually everything, Commodore," she answered. "Her intellect is not properly displayed by her struggles with Basic."

"That remains to be seen," Tarkin remarked, perhaps the most prejudiced of the group, but that truly wasn't saying much. Yularen and Vader only cared about results, not really who or what gets them, and Thrawn, well, if he were prejudiced against aliens, that would be rather self-destructive.

Vader eyed the course intently as Nerah slid over her black and red helmet, priming a blaster carbine that she held at the ready, her feet set in a prepped motion. Once Thrawn seemed to have everything ready, he leaned into the intercom.

"Cav," he spoke, which translated to "begin". Of course, the stormtroopers, barely fluent in Basic, didn't know that.

Nerah fired a precise shot at a durasteel cord that held an I-beam above, severing the link. The heavy bar of durasteel swung through the course and knocked out a sharpshooter tower, and Markov could not tell if the subsequent collapse was lethal to the man atop it. She immediately charged forward, zipping around corners at a near impossible speed and firing absolutely incredible shots through alleyways that ripped through the heads of the poor men who had no idea that Nerah could care less if this were training or not.

"She immediately resolves to lethal force," Vader noted, crossing his arms. "A reputable trait."

Markov figured Vader would like that.

The super soldier was a goddess among boys when it came to a firefight, her precise shots ripping through helmets and chest pieces before any stormtrooper had time to react. Sliding over crates and tossing her weapon aside, she lunged forward towards the more prepared group of scout troopers with stun sticks, and then watched in horror as the first man's neck emitted a mighty crack. Arming herself with her victim's stun stick, and once the troopers realized this was a life or death scenario, Nerah engaged with terrifying grace and immense strength, sidestepping and electrocuting each of them with such ease it made Markov wince.

My, am I glad we're friends.

"Were these men informed this was a live-fire exercise?" Yularen asked, to which Thrawn did not move to respond.

"I told Nerah to act as she deemed necessary to impress her observers," Thrawn flatly stated.

Markov wasn't a huge fan of that standpoint.

Once all the scout troopers were dispatched, either dead or in a near-fatal coma, Tarkin stopped scratching his chin. "It is obvious she outclasses basic foot soldiers by a large margin. I would like to see something more challenging."

"Send in a purge unit," Vader suggested.

"How many do you surmise?" Thrawn queried.

The Dark Lord turned his soulless gaze towards the chiss. "All of them."

Thrawn paused. "My Lord…purge units are trained to deal with Jedi, and I must protest she may be at a disadvantage against a fireteam-."

"If she can be rid of a fireteam of purge units, then she will have proved her worth to me," Vader offered, returning his optics to the field. "And we must test her ability to adapt to insurmountable odds."

Thrawn seemed content with that, as did the others. "Very well," he tapped into the comm and called in the fireteam, to which the black and red armored troopers filed into the circle Nerah had created. Armed with electrostaffs, stun batons and one with an electrohammer, they circled her like wounded prey, only she had barely broken a sweat thus far, her gloves completely clean of crimson despite the trail of bodies she had left behind.

Still, Markov felt a pang of worry for her. Purge troopers were no joke, and they were known for adapting quickly to difficult situations…but she imagined this was one they never had trained for.

The fastest with stun batons swung first, as well as another with an electrostaff, but Nerah leapt into the air, backflipping and landing atop the electrostaff wielder, her legs over his shoulders as she snapped his neck with ease. Sliding off his collapsed body, she caught the staff of the second wielder, and then proceeded to rip it free from his grip and clothesline him with his own weapon. Twirling it with a deftness, she deflected two attacks before spinning midair, swinging the long staff in a lethal circle that clobbered and stunned the remaining three, and she used that chance to wind up for a punch that cracked the black duraplast armor with one strike.

Markov blinked at that…her strength could fracture duraplast?

"My god," Yularen remarked, while Thrawn looked on with pride. "Why does this look frighteningly familiar?"

Thrawn kept his hands clasped behind his back as Nerah continued her work. "That is because she has been enhanced with the same serum that powered the old Separatist Project Sunstorm," he revealed. "We have made some more modern adjustments to have her maintain her physique as well as keep her personality more singular, but the results will certainly exceed that of the…previous subject of this Project."

Vader had sudden supreme interest, as if the name Sunstorm meant something to him.

The final purge trooper was beaten to death with his own hammer, and thus, Markov felt a bit of pride swell within her at the prospect of Nerah passing with flying colors.

"I believe I owe her an apology, Commodore Thrawn," Tarkin admitted. "Her work here exceeds all expectations."

"Indeed," Vader agreed. "I would like to take command of her assignments."

"Now, my lord, let's not be hasty…" Yularen suggested, to which Tarkin seemed to agree.

"Yes, let us not rush into who will be ordering her about."

It was hard for Markov to not smile to herself. Now that they had seen what she could do, none of them could resist getting their hands on her…quite like an agent with hundreds of contract offers to mull over.

Nerah removed her helmet, undoing her back clip to let her shoulder-length black hair flop down. "Satisfy?" she asked, and no one seemed to care that her Basic was so crude.

"Well done, Nerah," Thrawn responded through the intercom. "Come up to have a word. I believe you will have some job offers very soon."

Indeed she would…and Markov could smell some of that kicking her way as well.


13 BBY – Lorrd

"So you did what Obi-Wan had to do," Ahsoka surmised, allowing the white glow of her lightsaber to illuminate the rocky halls of their mysterious ship. "You never were known for your caution."

Xur kept close behind as she took the lead. "I didn't have a whole lot of room for finesse, or really options for that matter. It felt like my only choice."

The togruta grimaced. "I'm sorry about Kaidan…I liked him."

Xur tried to get her off that subject…as it never gave him any joy to reminisce on the catalyst behind his original mission. "After that, I went into the Fortress…"

"And?" her tone was measured, and he'd known Ahsoka long enough to know she didn't like where this was headed, and he mulled if it was even worth it to tell her what really happened from that point on. Playing it over in his head, he could imagine the horror on her face as he recounted what he and Trilla had done in the Tion Cluster, or how he had allowed her to kill hundreds of people along the way. Xur could argue some of those people deserved it, but Ahsoka wouldn't much care.

She already didn't like Trilla much to begin with and letting her know she was the Second Sister would make her absolutely loathe the mother of his child…and he could not afford that. Having Ahsoka back in the fray was a huge win for him and his comrades, and the information web she boasted could only bolster their fight.

The zabrak figured he could get away with leaving Trilla out of the story for now. "I was on Bracca when we ran into another Jedi survivor…Cal-."

"Kestis," Ahsoka finished for him, looking up at a cracked open doorway. "One of my agents was present…working undercover like you."

Xur was surprised by that. "Who?"

"I can't tell you that," she denied, which made him feel less bad about not telling her about Trilla.

"I just let you in on a pretty little-known fact about me, Ahsoka," Xur scoffed. "And now you won't tell me who your informant was?"

He could sense her original reaction was out of instinct, and a pang of regret hit her out of the blue, and soon he felt her retracting. "They were investigating the Second Sister for me…"

Xur desperately tried to hide his heavy gulp.

"…as she'd been the most successful Inquisitor by far…"

He fought off his surprise, and then felt a natural protective instinct to know who'd been spying on his girlfriend. "Ahsoka…who?"

She was about to speak again, but she was interrupted by the doorway beside them being forced open, and the jolt had them both jump back in defense. Fingers were seen between the door seams, and when it was finally pulled apart, Xur felt the relief of Trilla's purple optic slit on the other side.

And then he remembered who he was with.

Ahsoka's white blades blazed to life, and she charged.


Written in collaboration with and approved by DFM23.