Game Theory

"Why have enemies when you can have friends?"

13 BBY – Praetorian

Nerah holds herself proper, standing with her arms clasped behind her back. She stares out through the viewport without the covering of her mask, displaying her true form to the command deck. Officers look upon her in confusion, perhaps resentment.

"Four hours until we arrive at Onderon, Commodore," the deck officer reported from below.

"Thank you, Captain," Thrawn regarded. He tips his head in acknowledgement, but tries to slip a concerned look towards Nerah, who continues to regard the hyperspace tunnel.

"I have never…" Nerah attempts to speak in Basic, but once again struggles to find the proper words to convey her thoughts. "vumer ch'at."

"Traveled to," Thrawn translated for her.

She quietly thanks for the help. "I have never traveled to Onderon," her accent is very thick, struggling to wrap her tongue around the words.

"It is a troubled world, at the very least," Thrawn explained, coming up alongside her. "Since the Clone War, it has been in a state of perpetual civil war with various kings and queens vying for the throne in the capital of Iziz."

She listens studiously, her crimson eyes dissecting the information and processing it as best she can. "And…Empire?" Her expression turns sour as she cannot find her words.

"The Empire has taken an observing role on some occasions, allowing the various usurpers and pretenders to wear each other down before sweeping in to establish order."

Nerah makes a quick assumption, backtracks, but decides to accept her own reasoning. "And time…come again?"

"That time has come again, yes," Thrawn said. "Agent Markov will spearhead the operation," she expresses contentedness with this news. "She will have your orders for you when you board your gunship."

Nerah looks as if she expects more and is then surprised not to receive anything further. "Advice…?" Nerah asked.

"Of course. I am glad that you enquired," Thrawn stepped forward, closer to the viewport. "Tell me, in Cheunh if you wish, perhaps your…most influential lesson on Csilla."

Nerah's eyes aim towards the floor, deep in consideration. They flash in various directions, perhaps emulating the memories she experiences from her past. "Complacency is your most dangerous enemy," she answered in Cheunh, and then switched to Basic. "Word?"

"Complacency," Thrawn answered. She regards intently, storing the word in an easy to access area of her mind. "It is certainly an invisible enemy that can be the death of a warrior, should they allow it to spread too far within their mind, but it also can be projected upon an enemy…"

Nerah searches for the word, and her eyes glisten. "Bait."

"Precisely. If you display a degree of smugness to your abilities, you can incite a variable amount of intimidation, which thus can be used to achieve victory without firing a single shot or swinging a single fist. It can sometimes be best to mold your confidence into complacency, which will display a weak point that your enemy may attempt to exploit…but this is when they can become predictable. They will try a rapid attack to slip past your knowledge, thinking you are so embroiled in yourself that you will never expect it, or approach with an all-out movement in hopes of securing their victory in a single stroke."

"Then…strike," Nerah pounds her fist into her palm, displaying her absolute understanding.

"Yes, Nerah. Then you use their own assuredness against them."

Her gaze returns to the viewport, before she looks back to Thrawn. She speaks in Cheunh after her brow furrows in frustration as she struggles with Basic. "People here look at me differently," she displays her gloved hands. "They do not accept how I look, even when I know I could snap their neck with an effortless twist."

"This surprises you?" Thrawn responded in Cheunh.

Nerah's eyes narrow as her chin bows, expecting it to be obvious. "I was under the impression the Empire respected those with power."

"This is not an incorrect assumption, but there are underlying issues and prejudices with supposed…political fulcrums," Thrawn revealed. "Observe now, subtly, how our resident deck officers react to us now speaking in Cheunh."

Nerah's gaze quietly peers around the bridge, and her neck stiffens with discomfort. Perhaps a slight hint of contempt.

"They appear somewhat disgusted by our exchange."

"Indeed," Thrawn tipped his head. "You must learn quickly that no matter how much power you display, the Empire will nevertheless regard you as somewhat...second rate. This, however, can be a sharp tool that you may use to your advantage. Opponents who are not able to relinquish themselves of their prejudiced preconceptions easily fall prey to overconfidence, unearned arrogance…"

"Complacency," Nerah finished. The corners of her lips curl upwards in satisfaction.

"Precisely. Play your role, Nerah, the role that you wish your opponent to see, and with studious patience, you will prevail."

Nerah slightly bows as a student would to her mentor. Her Basic is spoken with a clarity she has yet to display. "Yes, Commodore."

Thrawn inclines his head slightly with mutual respect. "That will be all, Nerah. Agent Markov is expecting you."


13 BBY – Shadowbolt

An hour into their hyperspace jump, and Trilla was already mulling second thoughts about agreeing to Xur's request. It wasn't leaving Katara with Xur, necessarily, as she knew he would protect his daughter with an intense fervor, and Antaria had become a closer friend than she expected as she learned more of the echani marital art style from her. She knew without a doubt that she was in safe hands…

They just weren't her hands.

Whether she would ever admit it or not, she had a deep suspicion and worry that Xur would not give Katara the attention she needed. He loved her, certainly, but he didn't have the same drive to raise and teach her as Trilla did, and his constant involvement with what Reyna tasked him with would only separate him further. The zabrak was always a hard worker, always on the move, always looking for the next fight, but even when he did sit still, he spent it with himself. Xur had always been a slightly introverted loner, but that was what she liked about him, since she wasn't too far off in a sense, although she'd developed a better sense of holding a conversation when her interrogation skills had been honed.

Even after thirteen years of knowing him, she still felt like there were parts of him she was yet to pick out. He'd always been good at hiding them, and it was one of the primary reasons the Second Sister never caught him, and she had completely underestimated his cunning, although his boldness had been right on the dot.

She didn't want her daughter to be raised by one parent, as Trilla knew there were a lot of parts of her that she didn't want Katara to adapt…but perhaps that was part of the reason Xur somewhat distanced himself. He and Trilla were about as imperfect parents could get, both struggling with dark tendencies, and she had no idea if Katara had inherited her father's immunity to the corruptive energies of the Dark Side. There were, in fact, many things they didn't know about their daughter, like whether she would adopt Trilla's more core-colonies accent, or Xur's mid-outer rim dialect, which stemmed from mostly his master Mace Windu. She surmised as much, since his mother spoke with a harder traditional zabraki accent that anyone could easily deduct came from the Outer Rim.

Trilla could not remember where she was from, as she was taken when she was far too young to understand, and her accent had formed listening to the various language programs she had studied when she was younger. With so many pronunciation forms to remember, it had almost come naturally to her and she was fine with that, even if it had given Xur fuel to tease her about her pronunciations. This came namely from words with an excessive number of vowels, such as holocron or padawan, as her accent dictated that the second and third instances of the letter were spoken differently, in contrast to Xur's harsher and, in his mind, more phonetic pronunciation. She got him back on occasion, mostly for his finish of words like 'motor' with an -er instead of -ah, as well as his contrasting and more harsh pronunciation of holocron.

Only then did Trilla realize how bored she was, and that was mostly because she had no desire to speak to Ahsoka, even if she had become more partially tolerant of the togruta. Knowing she was pure hearted gave her some points, but her persistence to always do the absolute right thing was somewhat infuriatingly annoying, and this was proven once Ahsoka finished telling Trilla how she refused to kill any of the clones that hunted her during Order 66. Trilla found that needlessly idealistic and foolhardy and could only imagine how much faster those younglings would've died if Trilla refused to defend herself with lethal force.

Besides, there was something far more interesting Trilla wanted to ask about, mainly as to get an idea of the extent of the aftermath post Tranbir IX all those years ago.

"Whatever happened between you and that…what was his name…" she trailed off, purposely pretending to forget his name as to make the question seem more harmless. "That super soldier fellow."

Ahsoka's distant expression fading towards the viewport as she sat in the pilot's chair already did a number to explain why the man was not with her now, but Trilla felt no particular regret for making her feel uncomfortable.

"You mean Wraith?" she asked, her tone low.

"That's right," Trilla feinted remembrance. "Last I heard all Separatist leaders were killed on Mustafar after a heat shielding failure."

That story had become much less believable once Trilla had been graced with the reality of the Clone War…and who Darth Vader really was.

The togruta said nothing, and Trilla knew she hit a spot. "If you don't wish to share that is perfectly-."

"No, it's alright," Ahsoka eased, which is the kind of response she was hoping to pull from her. "It's a long story."

Trilla peeked at the navicomputer, and then involuntarily settled in once she noticed they had nothing but time. "It appears we have the perfect environment for such a thing."

Ahsoka snorted in slight amusement. "I guess so," leaning back with her arms crossed. Trilla could tell she was less willing to share the more intricate details, but it seemed that bargaining Katara had paid off, and earned her at least part of the story. "It's a mess, honestly," she began. "After what had happened…it made me realize a few things, and I started to second guess my decisions much more than I did before."

That was definitely the subtle desire Trilla had on that day, and perverse pride swelled at hearing that, although she didn't let that show on her face.

"Xur and I never talked much after that, if at all," she recounted, which only made Trilla feel more guilty with what had happened on Lorrd. "And Wraith…well…you spend enough time trying to hide a relationship with a prominent enemy combatant, and it starts driving you mad. I had never struggled much with paranoia…but it only worsened the longer we persisted onwards.

"About a month before Order 66…I told him I couldn't do it anymore."

Trilla bit her lip. "I see. I imagine he didn't like that much."

Kind of a question only a cunt would ask.

Ahsoka didn't seem to mind. "I was scared…" she trailed off. "Anakin was putting the pieces together, and I could sense this deep hatred building within him. I just felt that if I could remove us from the equation, maybe he'd lose some of that anger."

Trilla swallowed awkwardly.

"But nothing changed. All I got was a little more security, but I received a broken heart in return."

She dared to ask. "Is he…?"

The togruta shook her head. "Dead? No. In fact, he's on Onderon right now."

"I see…and when was the last time you spoke to him?"

Ahsoka paused, pinching the bridge of her nose with a cloud of regret over her head. "Three years ago I gave him an encrypted commlink, codename and told him I'd send him on intel grabs and supply raids. That was the last time I spoke to him face to face."

And I thought I was harsh.

"It appears you have some mending to do," Trilla noted.

She scoffed. "You and Xur are so perfect for each other. Straight to the point."

"Saves time. You want my advice, Tano?" Trilla asked, and Ahsoka made no movement to object. "Take one thing for granted, and you'll never see it again."

Ahsoka sniffed, letting her brow shift downwards. "Yeah. Funny how it took me this long to figure that out."

"You haven't figured it out yet."

That's when she finally turned her head, and Trilla only smirked with a wink, to which Ahsoka interpreted her last statement as a joke.

"I'm guessing this is something he deals with every day."

Trilla let out a deep giggle. "Oh, this is nothing."

Ahsoka chuckled along with that. "And by the way, you don't have to fake ignorance just to get me to open up."

The former Second Sister's eyes widened for a moment, before looking upon Ahsoka, who took her turn to wink.

Trilla smirked. More points for her.


13 BBY – Praetorian

Nerah's immediate observational assumptions painted the Empire as more similar to her native Ascendancy, but as she found herself attempting to mingle with various crew members, she only felt more ostracized. She was always more talkative than her peers, trying to make friends wherever she went, and even after she had been chosen to be her people's experiment for something greater, that really didn't change. Luckily, her subtle transformation had not warped her personality, which apparently had been a possible side effect alongside making her irreversibly mute.

She had been old enough at the time to make the choice for herself anyhow. Her parents never cared for her much, not after she showed her natural prowess and interest in learning the art of combat, so she was used to taking care of herself. When she had proven to be the best young warrior the chiss had to offer, and her age placed her just within the acceptable parameters, it had almost been a no-brainer.

Being transferred to the Galactic Empire wasn't part of her envisioned plan. Humans seemed to be naturally selfish, and their blatant disregard for her simply because of the way she looked only became more infuriating. Part of her hated it here, and if it wasn't for Thrawn and Agent Markov, she would've wished to have been sent home.

Nerah wasn't stupid. She knew better than that, and now that the Empire knew what she could do, she felt that it would take much for them to let her go. Best she could do was establish what was what and make a name for herself that commanded respect instead of scorn.

After spending much of her walk through the halls being ignored, she ducked into the hangar bay with slight frustration, hoping to find a bit of solace. Instead she was greeted to a drilling of the stationed trooper garrison, the white armored men running through an exercise in the empty space.

Then she spotted that small woman that the machine man had brought along, conversing with a few soldiers dressed in black and red armor…like her.

At last…something familiar.

"Hello," she greeted as she approached, drawing the attention of the red-visor soldiers, who looked unsure as what to make of her. "I am Nerah."

The Fourth Sister regarded her with her violet-yellow eyes and a blank stare, currently sitting atop a shipping crate. Her black hair was very similar to Nerah's, but it was cut short at about her jawline.

"Isn't this that super soldier girl?" one of the troopers whispered, but she detected it clearly. His counterpart only shrugged with his rifle held across his chest.

"Red eyes…kinda freaky."

Freaky?

"Um…Basic…not good," Nerah admitted, feeling her head droop downwards a little. "What word is freaky?"

Both troopers seemed stunned that she heard their conversation, but the Fourth Sister spoke for them, her tone slightly monotonous. "Do you know what weird means?"

"Weird…" she echoed. "Yes…strange."

"Freaky means the same thing."

My eyes are strange?

No they aren't. If anything, humans had strange, non-glowing eyes, and she wondered how they ever possibly could see in the dark.

"Is it true you took out an entire purge unit on your own?" one of them asked, to which Nerah took a moment to translate as best she could.

"You mean…black and red," she pointed, and they gave her a nod. "Yes. Not hard."

They stared for a long while after that.

Nerah shrugged. "What?"

They whispered again, not learning from last time that she could hear. "Did she just say not hard?"

"Who the fuck is this chick?"

"Super soldier," Nerah answered his rhetorical question, earning another stunned look from them. "Is there double word?"

The Fourth Sister narrowed her eyes. "What? Do you mean second word?"

Shit. You knew that, Nerah.

"Yes…is there second word?"

"No…I think we get it," the closest soldier nodded, just as Nerah detected footsteps from behind.

"I see you're making friends," Agent Markov remarked, coming alongside her. "Are your men prepped, Fourth Sister?"

The inquisitor nodded. "Ready to go, Agent."

"Um…ma'am…if you don't mind me asking," one of them spoke up. "Did she really take out an entire purge unit by herself?"

Markov's gaze fell to Nerah, who only placed her hands behind her back while the Agent regarded the trooper. "Yes…and she made it look easy."

He gulped. "I see. Glad you're on our side."

"Indeed," Markov agreed. "If you'll excuse us, Nerah and I need to speak."

As they paced away, the Agent smirked. "I see you are not immune to the act of gloating."

Nerah shrugged. "Show off, little…mask complacency."

She was a good listener.


13 BBY – Onderon

Their journey was not quite as sluggish as Trilla initially imagined it would be, and in short time they arrived at the designated coordinates that Saw had provided to the Shadowbolt. Base camp was not as ragged as she predicted, but it certainly wasn't up to the Imperial standards she had become accustomed to. Many of the fighters were in bad shape in terms of cleanliness, but she could sense their spirit and resolve; their unfaltering desire to strike against the tyranny of the Empire.

Descending the loading ramp, Trilla held her helmet underneath her arm as to not entice sudden retaliation with her appearance, and with Ahsoka out front, she figured that was the best chance for her not to be shot on sight.

Saw was already waiting at the loading ramp with that same, dark stare he always wore. "It's good to see you again," he greeted Ahsoka, and they shared a handshake.

"Likewise. Sorry for the delay, but we came as fast as we could," Ahsoka apologized, just as Trilla came up beside her. Saw gave her one look, and to her immense surprise, offered her his hand.

"Commander. Vorchenko filled me in. Allow me to apologize for the way my men regarded you on Kashyyyk," he tipped his head as Trilla shook. "As well as for ever doubting your devotion."

"I admit most of it was well-founded," Trilla granted, just as Saw began to lead them through the camp. "But I am glad I can be of service."

"What's the situation here?" Ahsoka asked, her eyes pacing through the night as rowdy groups of men rushed by them.

"When news spread of Vorchenko's strike against the Empire, many worlds finally gained the courage to rise up, Onderon one of them," he explained. "We've been executing mostly hit and run attacks, but once your agent showed up, we've got a little bolder. The intel the Imperium has provided us has been pivotal in our struggle as well."

"What about Imperial retaliation? They usually don't allow insurgents to persist this long," Trilla brought up. "And with the situation here I'm surprised they haven't responded with a firmer hand."

Saw nodded. "I have considered that, which is why I want to get this done as quickly as possible."


13 BBY – Fury

Trilla had surmised that Xur was lying about Katara throwing up on his chest, but the zabrak could say whole-heartedly that it was 100% the truth. It was obvious that his girlfriend was more cut out for the whole parenthood thing than he was, but he still wanted to give it his all, even if he was bad at it.

The problem was…he's very bad at it.

Going through hyperspace, he'd hoped the baby's wailing would simply end if he disregarded it for long enough, but Katara had proven immensely stubborn, that or Xur had no idea that leaving a baby to cry was the sign of a shit father. Once it got to a certain point, and Rava had been forced to silence her audio receptors just to ignore it, he had no choice but to go into the child's designated room and unlock the floating capsule that held his daughter.

Katara kept crying, and part of him wanted to scream at her to shut up, but he quickly shot that idea down as incredibly cruel, which it was. Sighing heavily through her wails, he picked her up, unsure as how to hold her properly.

"Hey uh…there, there," he stammered, only to see him have no effect. "Ugh…why did I think this would be a good idea?"

He mulled contacting Trilla, but that would be borderline embarrassing, along with the fact that she was certainly busy. She didn't need to stress that her daughter was being poorly taken care of by her own father.

Xur just wanted her to go to sleep, and the longer her cries persisted, the more he remembered how much he hated small children. All they did was cry, pout, whine and take shits, and he could care less about the "you were one too" argument. He wasn't one now and he never would be again and having this burden to deal with now was unnecessary.

Then she opened her eyes.

Immediately he felt a connection manifest, and he sensed the strength she had in the Force projected back onto him. It was potent, incredibly so for her age, and he used that to his advantage, trying to instill a calming effect upon the poor child. Slowly, her crying ceased, and finally he figured out how to cradle her in his arms. She looked up, and for a moment he saw Trilla within her eyes, and all of his frustration ceased. Not only was she a piece of the woman he loved, she was hishis daughter.

He'd never asked for one…he never wanted one in the first place, but it's what Trilla wanted. Katara was the living manifestation of the love he had for her, and he felt himself relishing that even more than before.

"You miss momma…don't you?" he asked, and she gave him no response, only a slight pout. "I miss her too…but she's out there fighting for you to have another day, and while I may not be as pretty as she is to look at…I'll do my best."

Katara began to fall asleep again, and when he set her back down within her capsule…he was beginning to see why Trilla had been so upset with him for not calling in.

It had only been a day, and he missed her terribly, and not because she was better at caretaking. He missed her energy…her warmth…just the thought that she was always there. He missed her perfect smile, her witty comebacks, her head tilts and exotic accent…her soft hair in his hands, her ever-pure emerald eyes. All of it tugged at his heart, pulling him to where he knew she was…just to feel her in his arms again.

Sniffling, he picked Katara out of her capsule and back into his arms, taking a seat in the rocker they had bolted into the floor. Feeling a part of his ailment quell, he smiled.

"Yeah…I miss momma very much."


13 BBY – Onderon

"Here it is," Saw revealed a large container, letting it rattle the rusted durasteel table he set it atop of. It was slightly smaller than Ahsoka expected, but then again she wasn't sure why she had a size in mind anyhow. "It's heavy, and I was told not to unlock it until I hit the surface."

"Is that all they told you?" Trilla asked.

"Only that it included something to help our fight, and a gift for you," he regarded her, and Ahsoka noticed her expression shift, which was rare. Trilla always seemed to be on top of things and she had projected herself as such, even when she'd first met her just before Tranbir IX. Although, that memory was a little sourer than she remembered, as she had truly been probing Ahsoka for information about her relationship with Wraith, and subtly looking for ways to expose it.

Perhaps the former inquisitor had been born for her job.

What a terrible thought.

She knew exactly what Trilla had gone through, at least what Xur had told her, and it was horrifically barbaric to say the least. What the Empire did to those Jedi was unthinkable, inhumane, and while Ahsoka never let hatred into her heart, that was the closest it had ever come in a long time. Part of her was glad the Fortress had been destroyed the way that it was, annihilated in a fusion detonation that irradiated the waters in which it once laid.

The togruta could only imagine what the Empire was doing to Force sensitives across the galaxy, and the respect she had for Trilla to overcome it all was potent, despite their shaky relationship.

And her daughter was so beautiful…if only…

No…stay focused.

"I see…" Trilla surmised, pulling her out of her thought process. "But why drag me out here? It would've been more efficient just to leave it with the Admiral."

Vorchenko…someone else who earned a lot of her respect.

"That's an answer I don't have," Saw said. "Right now, I want to get this thing opened and be done with it, that way you can be on your way if necessary."

"I can certainly get behind that," Trilla seconded.

Ahsoka grimaced. The guilt was building, and the internal nagging couldn't be placed on hold any longer.

"Saw…is my agent here?" Ahsoka asked, to which he paused, regarding her with a disinterested shrug.

"You mean your Separatist war criminal?" he almost spat with a hint of venom in his tone. "He's back at the cargo area, probably by himself."

She scowled mentally, but then again Saw probably had good reason to be angry, forced into a corner and trust a man he obviously despised. He'd get over it.

"I'll go find him while you two sort this out," she offered.

"You don't want to see inside?" Trilla asked.

"It's fine. You go on ahead," Ahsoka gave her a half smile before turning away, doing her best to figure out where exactly the cargo area was supposed to be.

Each step was more difficult, and it felt as if heavy durasteel was strapped to her ankles, dragging her down. She felt herself sink into the ground, her head beginning to pound, her vision beginning to blur, and despite the cold of the night around her, she began to sweat. Ahsoka was always calm, cool and on her feet, ready to react, but this was the result of procrastination that had gone on long enough to almost declare itself reality.

Was she meant to ever speak to him again…unprofessionally? She'd been all business for so long, and only seeing Xur again had mildly raised that barrier. Everyone she had ever cared about was dead, and now suddenly it felt like her world was reanimating around her…and she wasn't sure that was a good thing.

The togruta didn't want to admit it…but she was scared. What was she supposed to say? It wasn't like they hadn't been in contact, so telling him she was glad to see him again didn't make much sense, not after the last time they had talked.

It was probably fair to assume he didn't want to talk to her in the first place. Why would he? All she'd done was roll over his heart with a speeder, and as far as he knew she was just here to do it again. There wasn't any trust left…not anymore.

Then why did she feel she needed to do this anyway?

Because it's the right thing to do.

No, that's not it. It couldn't be. That answer was too simple, one that she'd known for years, and it didn't explain why she wouldn't have talked to him beforehand. To say it was an obligation was just crude, and if that was true, then she should certainly turn around and leave it be. He deserved better than that.

Hell…he deserved better than her.

Sure enough, Saw was right where he said…and he was alone. Taking a swig of his beer and setting it aside, Wraith was poised atop a cargo crate as he tended to his own wound on his back rather unsuccessfully. His hair was cut almost all the way down, aside from the buzz atop his head. Other than that…he looked almost exactly as she remembered him.

She bit her lip and almost turned back in that moment, but Ahsoka was frozen in place, unable to force herself to turn away. It had been so long since she last saw him, and while he didn't seem to notice her yet, it was only a matter of time if she remained in place.

Take one thing for granted, and you'll never see it again.

Who knew Trilla's words would ever translate to something good?

Ahsoka stepped forward…and kept on. Immediately her throat's moisture evaporated, but she kept moving, coming up just behind him from his spot on the crate.

"Finally decided to help me?" he remarked, and she deducted he wasn't regarding her. "Who knew a stun stick could actually hurt me?"

"You've survived worse," Ahsoka said, pausing in place out of his vision.

Wraith froze, and she sensed disbelief within him at the sound of her voice. When he turned, his hardened gaze fell soft, and his eyelids fluttered as he seemed to need to process who stood before him.

"Ahsoka…?" he gasped, barely a whisper. "Wha-…you're here?"

She swallowed hard, involuntarily crossing her arms. "Yeah…I-I am…" she stammered, and then realized that was obvious. "How are you?"

He blinked again, trying to search for words. "H-how am I…uh…well, I'm good, actually. Caught a stun stick in the back," he jerked his thumb towards the purple bruise that was there, and it made Ahsoka wince. "I know, I know…I should be more careful."

Ahsoka shook her head, slightly confused. "I wasn't going to say that…"

Wraith narrowed his eyes. "What?"

The togruta felt her own pair aim towards the floor in slight embarrassment. "You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I—" he paused. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, it's just…y-you know…"

Wraith just stared at her, waiting for her to finish, which irritated her for some odd reason. Part of her just wanted to run away now, feeling entrapped by his ignorance to why she felt so uncomfortable.

Just say it. Get it off your chest.

"You're not mad about me breaking up with you?" she grimaced internally. That came out a little more childish than she wanted.

Wraith scoffed. "That was six years ago. I hope I don't give off the impression of being someone who's petty."

"No, you don't," she shook her head. "I just hoped you didn't think it was…about you."

He snorted at that. "Ahsoka…of course it was about me," he denied. "But I get it…now anyway…I know I might've been a little…harsh about it."

Admittedly, that was putting it mildly.

"But it's over now…done," he waved off. "I've moved on."

She gulped at that. "Moved on" could mean many things, not all of them good, and it was even more terrifying to think that he had completely moved on from her. Sure, she would have no right to be upset…but still…

"Good," she found herself saying, which probably wasn't the best response, but those were the words that came out of her mouth. The awkwardness was so intense she could hardly keep looking his way, but she held firm.

"So…what are you doing here?" he asked, and then backtracked. "Not that I want you to leave…"

"I know," she tipped her head with a small smile. "I'm here with a friend, actually…well, kind of a friend."

"A friend," he flatly echoed, adjusting in his spot so he could face her directly.

"Yeah…you've met her before, actually…"

And almost snapped her neck.

Maybe keep who they were out for now.

Wraith snorted. "The only girl friend you ever had was Barris Offee, and well…that narrows it down to basically no one."

"That's not true," Ahsoka shook her head. "Don't you remember Effa? She was with Anakin a lot. She liked hanging out with me."

"So you brought her?"

"Well, no…"

That's because Effa Azulia had been morphed into the Third Sister, became accomplice to the deaths of many Jedi, and then was killed by a Sith Lord named Darth Vader.

"Then who did you bring?" he asked again, taking a sip of his drink.

Ahsoka wasn't really sure where she was going with this anymore, or why it mattered. Huffing to herself and finally taking a seat beside him, she said, "Does it matter?"

He regarded her a moment, before looking away again. "I guess not."

Then she realized she had no idea what to say after that was over with, finally realizing how poor her socialization skills had become since she became Fulcrum. It seemed so hard to just talk, which was strange, but it needed to happen…especially if she was going to be able to leave here without any kind of regret.

So she just spoke from her heart.

"What have you been up to?"


13 BBY – Imperial Gunship

Nerah only watched with subtle understanding as Markov relayed orders to their squad, her helmet in hand while the other gripped the handle above. They were currently flying over the capital city of Iziz with a convoy of other gunships carrying squads of stormtroopers, and from what she could tell, there was an insurgent camp they had marked for destruction.

This would be her chance to let loose. The rush she felt was incredible, and it had been a long time since she last felt this way. She'd been on live fire assignments before, but Csilla was so isolated that they hadn't been at war in her lifetime. Mostly she had been in charge of infiltration, recon and surveillance, not systematic elimination.

With all the supposed unrest within the Empire, she imagined her services would be in high demand.
"…good luck," she caught Markov say once the other men nodded, and that was her time to turn to Nerah, electing to speak Cheunh as to save time. "Helmet on," she directed, tapping her gloved knuckles atop her own metal headgear.

Nerah obeyed, sliding over her special forces helmet and prompting the HUD to go live. It wasn't as comfortable as the one she wore back home, but its tech was certainly more advanced.

"When you reach the surface, you're to go off on your own. I'm giving you your coordinates now," she relayed, and with a few taps of her datapad, they were displayed on her HUD. "We need you to be as quiet as possible. Push to that location and kill anyone in your path that isn't an Imperial. You should already have IFF systems installed, which should identify your targets for you. Should that ever falter, use your best judgment."

The chiss nodded. "What should I expect?"

"Rag tag rabble that shouldn't be underestimated. You're fighting them on their home planet, so don't expect to scare them. Other than that, they're rather poorly equipped, so don't expect any surprises in the form of weaponry," she explained. "Anything else?"

Nerah shook her head, and then spoke in Basic, "Understood."

"Good," Markov praised, just as the gunship shook heavily.

"Tempest squad, hang tight," the intercom relayed. "Landfall in fifteen seconds."

Those fifteen seconds passed by in a flash, and soon Nerah saw the tropics below blown away from the downdraft as the doors slid open, and her boots hit the ground. Brandishing her compact blaster carbine from over her shoulder, she began to traverse through the trees to her target.


Trilla ran her thumb over the slick drive in her grip. It was small, its design sleek and simple, and yet she was told it held the necessary coding upgrades to grant Rava an even more enhanced intelligence, which seemed impossible. She was the most advanced model in the galaxy, and to think shew could be any smarter almost felt like overkill.

They called it an "Index".

Sliding it away for now, she followed Saw to where Ahsoka and Wraith were sitting together, sharing a few laughs between words. Trilla wasn't sure how she felt about that…or if she even felt anything at all.

"Tano!" Saw called out, not caring much for the conversation they were in the middle of. "The exchange is done. You're free to go."

She didn't look as excited to get moving as Trilla initially imagined she would, but her professionalism seemed to win out, drawing her to her feet much to Wraith's obvious displeasure. Seeing his face again was…strange…as the last time she saw him was from above as his fist closed around her neck. Even if she knew at the time that most of that debacle was her doing, it still didn't change the fact that he was an enemy, and after he had nearly killed Xur in their scrap, Trilla remained guarded.

If he came near him again, she'd kill him herself.

"That was quick," Ahsoka remarked, and then the awkwardness settled in as she turned back to Wraith. "You remember Trilla…right?"

He regarded her, and Trilla wore nothing telling in her expression. There was nothing to show.

"So you survived too, huh?" he asked.

Trilla's gaze shortened. "In a sense."

Before she could explain what that meant, Saw already took the floor back. "Our Benefactor sent us a weapon, but it's too powerful for any of us to handle. I think you may be the man for the job, Seppie."

Trilla held back a snort of laughter.

"He has a name…" Ahsoka grumbled.

"And I'll use it when he earns it," Saw retorted. "Other than that, you two can be on your way. I've set up…"

Trilla found her senses spiking and probing outwards, and it was difficult to focus on her immediate surroundings. Her spine tingled, neck hairs raised, and immediately she knew she was being hunted.

No…they were being hunted.

"You may want to belay that," Trilla interrupted Saw, who turned her way. "Some thing is on its way here."

"How do you know that?" Saw narrowed his eyes. "The Empire is still hulled up in Iziz while they gather strength, and our scouts haven't reported anything."

Trilla only gave him a hard stare. "Disregard my instincts at your own peril, Gerrera."

He only tested her for a moment, but she won their stare down. "Are you offering to stick around?"

She nodded. "You'll be glad I did."

All that caretaking had made her hungry for a little blood.


Thanks for reading. This one took a little longer, but I'm trying not to burn myself out, which may be on the horizon here. I'm kinda struggling to press forward with no real goal in sight, so these in-between chapters will probably be a little shorter. I have one more in mind for this arc, but after that I'm going to have the final in between chapter before the large time jump that will bring us closer to the next novel. Stay tuned!

I also wanted to reach out and say thank you all from the bottom of my heart, as this story has surpassed all my previous works in terms of views. In 6 months this story has reached almost 20,000 views, which is more than Star Wars Eons Episode I: The Clone Wars ever got in 5 years. On top of that, we are very close to 100 followers, and I never imagined this story ever becoming as popular as it has, so once again, thanks to all of you for sticking around and giving me great feedback.

With this college quarter nearing its end, expect slower updates until June for the most part. I'll try to stick to one chapter a week.

Thanks for reading!

PS- Also, if I have any fellow Avatar: The Last Airbender fans out there, I've released my pilot chapter for a little side story I'll be working on. Swoop by my profile if you're interested!