I am a Jedi - The Tale of F

by RedDragoon2691

Based on the character F from Star Wars: Visions episode "The Village Bride." This tale will explore who she was before that event and the path she took to get there. Following the immediate aftermath of Order 66, F's journey will take her across the galaxy as she runs from the empire, with the burden of being the last of her kind weighing on her every day.

8. Chapter 8

Episode 8: Playing Politics & Chasing Droids

In the snowy ice caps of Scipio, a giant swirl of snowflakes drifts from the tip of a tall mountain as the morning sun colors the rocks with purple and orange hues. This air of tranquility is disrupted by a barrage of plasma and fire.

Several squadrons of Imperial fighters whiz across the sky battling enemy aircraft. They circle around a large blue base, its support beams spiraling around and into the mountain that hangs over it. The shield generator inside the base's round metallic foundations implodes; soon, dozens of Imperial landing craft drop-down, sending in platoons of stormtroopers. The bases' main three-pillar buildings are blasted from precise orbital strikes, weakening defenses, and eliminating any enemy combatants inside.

Once the last of the enemy fighters were shot down, the rest was essentially cleaned up with ground forces taking in crowds of prisoners while eliminating those who even thought of resisting. During this sporadic fighting, a Nu-class transport shuttle lands down, opening its doors to reveal Commander Montar, escorted by a group of stormtroopers. He frowns at the sight of the few clones scattered across the landing deck before saying, "It's E company leading the charge on the main tower, yes? Let's meet up with them quickly then."

"Sir," the clone sergeant asks, "don't you think we should wait until sweeping is done?"

Montar walks ahead while answering, "I trust my men to do their jobs and protect their superior officer. Besides, I'm eager to learn the leadership behind this insurgency cell. Now keep up."

Roaming the battlefield, Montar saw that nearly all of the insurgent soldiers were, unsurprisingly, of the Muun species. However, what caught his eye was their uniforms, confirming this base is owned by a branch of the banking clan. Upon entering the tower, their indoor defenses and weapons were separatist droids and weaponry, giving Montar a brief sense of deja vu.

Later, after a quick ride to the top, Montar entered the floor right as the last shots were fired. He soon met E company's leader, who saluted, "Sir? Here earlier than usual, I see. The situation is now under control, and their stronghold is ours."

Montar smiles and nods, "another job well done, major. I do hope the base's leader is still with us?"

"Right over here, sir," the major gestures to the other room.

Montar walks into what appears to be their command center with its long computer consoles and holographic map tables damaged by the crossfire. He steps over the few dead enemy combatants to reach a dozen prisoners lined against the back window; he recognizes one older-looking Muun with a familiar face.

"My, my, Pors Tonith," Montar says, shaking his head at the previously renowned Separatist militant, "what a surprise seeing you behind this cell's operation." Montar glances at the sorry state of Tonith's remaining soldiers until being smacked in the face by one of Tonith's gloves.

"That's admiral to you," Tonith says after composing himself, "unlike you…you nepotistic imperialists, I've earned my title personally from Count Dooku. I deserve respect."

Montar hides a chuckle, stopping himself from reciting the idiom of the pot calling the kettle black to instead address Tonith. "Well, you can't really be an Admiral of a confederacy that doesn't exist anymore," he says, "I must say, given how easy it was to locate and overrun this location, I expected more of a challenge, Admiral. Truly how the mighty have fallen."

Tonith raises his chin, "so you have intercepted our transmissions. A mere stroke of luck won you this day, but if you expect separatist resistance to end on this world or anywhere else-"

"Of course, we don't. However, regarding the present, I have no one else to thank but you for providing us a 'proof of defiance.' A small policy by the senate I'm personally fond of exploiting," Montar interrupts him, showing only a minimum of respect in his tone. "So here's what YOU shall expect," he continues, "I'll get the Senate to approve of a blockade, and within less than a week, ships waving our banner will target your energy grids & food reserves. I heard that it's expected to get quite cold here soon. I hope your people are prepared for a long winter because…well, given what happened to other worlds when you confederates implemented a similar strategy, I think you of all people should know how this will end."

Tonith's pupils shrink his sense of dread present to Montar by a just glance at those eyes. He doesn't posit himself as a commander who reaps the benefits of victory. Still, he can't deny a part of him who feels triumph after witnessing the moment of realization of the defeat in his enemy's eyes. Though he maintains his code of honor by staying silent, one of the few values from his homeworld that he still held. Seeing he's done here, Montar orders the clones to take him back to the ship and tells the Muun, "Nothing to say? Don't worry. Our special intelligence agents will get you to talk soon enough."

However, before Tonith was escorted out, Montar scratched the cheek where he was slapped and ordered the clones to raise their blasters.

"What are you-," Tonith mumbles, looking back to realize the clones were aiming at the prisoners. "No!" he shouts as he looks on in shock when the clones fire. He blinks rapidly before realizing that the clones purposefully missed.

Montar looks at both the separatist and his clones and calmly says, "this is a reminder. I tolerate many things I truly do…but I will NOT tolerate disrespect. Am I clear?"

The prisoners fearfully shake their heads before being taken back to the ship with their leader. The last words Montar heard from Tonith as they echoed down the hall were, "Montar! You wanna know why I still fought?! To prevent my world, my people, from facing the repercussions of our betrayal of the republic. So dwell on this, Commander! What will YOU do when your world is their next target?!"

Montar doesn't let it show, but he had a peculiar stare in his eyes from Tonith's words. A look only his personal officer notices when she approaches him, "everything alright, commander?" she asks.

He smirks and waves it off as they head back outside, "Oh, nothing. I'm only surprised the traitor actually grew conscious. Truly a miracle, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose," she shrugs before a message appears on her datapad, "sir, it seems that central command is requesting you."

"Right then, tell them Scipio's insurgency cell been eliminated and-"

"Not that kind of request, sir," she corrected when they reached the cold landing platform. "They want all high-ranking officers of the Core Worlds to report to Galvoni III. It seems quite urgent."

"A conference concerning the wider insurgency?"

"Yes, but…i-it's also aims to address how to eliminate the remnants of the Jedi rebellion. Highlighting peculiar attacks such as one on Aradia and the sudden resurgence of resistance in Ragoon VI."

"The Jedi…" he sneers, his blood boiling from her mere mentions. "She's just one little girl! How could one girl elude my best men for this long?! Soon the rest of the empire will catch on, and there'll be a mad chase by every officer in the core for this elusive Jedi!"

"With all due respect, sir, but isn't that a good thing? She's proven to be very dangerous," the officer asks nervously.

"Because it's our chance to prove ourselves," Montar emphasizes, " the emperor and his inner circle are filling up positions quickly. The way I see it, the first line of admirals and generals should be prime examples for future leaders to follow. Just look at Tarkin, one admiral out of many suddenly given the title of Moff within a month because his persona comprises everything the emperor is looking for."

"So you're doing this just for a promotion?"

"So that we don't get left behind," Montar says softly. They pass by several wounded clones from the battle as they approach the shuttle. Montar sighs from the sight and asks his officer, "so long as fighting continues, these battles will continue, and we'll inevitably suffer from them. So in those dreaded battles, you want everyone here to be under a snobbish admiral's thumb who got lucky with a Jedi kill? Or you prefer a leader who will do what's best for their troops and the empire?"

His officer glances at the wounded before nodding, "I understand, sir." A red notification beeps from her datapad. She recognizes the secret transmission code with a quick glance, "uh, sir, Frost wishes to speak to you."

"Send him through on the shuttle, and he better has something good," Montar huffs as he boards the ship. He feels the craft shake upon take off as a hologram of Frost glows in front of him. "Report, trooper," he commands with little patience.

"Sir, we believe the Jedi is hidden somewhere in the Bormea sector. Now, given how well she's covered her tracks-"

"Oh wonderful," Montar says sarcastically, "no need to search any further indeed, why we're only finding a needle in a haystack."

"Sir-"

"I thought you were the best," Montar says demeaningly, "you always accomplished your orders. Instead, it seems I got stuck with a defective…."

Montar saw Frost clench his fists before putting them behind his back and straightening himself, "I'm. not. Defective," he hisses.

"Then tell me, what should I do with useful information like yours?"

"Use a bait," Frost suggests, which perked Montar's ears, "recently, an Imperial patrol crushed an insurgent cell on Corellia, and only one individual escaped. However, he left behind a small but important BD droid."

"And what of it?"

"It's the droid belonging to professor Valco, one of the Jedi's only friends," Frost informs.

Montar leans back with an intrigued look, "Valco…yes, the famed explorer, but I don't recall him as the sociable type."

"He's a nutcase about his research, yes, but I saw firsthand our Jedi speak with Valco on multiple occasions. They know each other alright," Frost assures. "Now, we may not know where he is now, but using his droid as bait should be enough to draw out the Jedi. We have to find it, then we'll set the trap."

Montar taps on his chin in deep thought. He then orders, "have your men keep searching the sector. We'll use bounty hunters to find the droid for us." Montar notices Frost standing still, "why are you still standing around?" he asks, "waiting for a pat on the back?"

"No, sir…" Frost sighs before ending the transmission.

Montar sighs, slightly more rest assured but still feels a gut feeling of unease. While Montar boards his capital ship and charts its course to the conference, he can't help but express, "where in this blasted core are you, Jedi?"

/-/-/-/-/-/

[Corulag]

Fire spews out from an industrial chimney, its black ash rising into the night sky. The bright red and white moons overlooked the lawless, high-rise-ridden, urban jungle known as Crullov City. The city's many tall factories and its muck-ridden workers gave their labor, not to the empire or even the planetary government but to whomever crime lord they're indebted to. These lords' ownership of the city was made clear by each distinctive district they controlled and the hundreds of thousands living in the many crowded skyscrapers. Bulky landspeeders transporting high-class spice fly through the elevated highways beside decked out speeders driven by hothead scrumrats and stuck-up syndicate gangsters.

One could never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy in the core worlds, but it too was a haven for those looking to escape the eyes of the law.

In between the peaks of the highrise towers and the slums of the lower levels was a shanty hanger overlooking a quiet part of the mid-levels west district. Inside the hangar was a Z-95 fighter covered by a large tarp except for the tips of its wings. Toolbox and scattered spare parts show that it's been worked on. Its owner sits in the opposite room, it's small but more than livable for F. Most importantly, it was quiet for her training.

The room was illuminated by soft blues and yellows coming from F's Holocron and lightsaber. F swung her blade with swift slashes and precise cuts while her old master's voice rang from the Holocron.

"Being a fencer is crucial to Form II. Your leverage and position must come naturally to you, young one," her master spoke.

F followed these instructions down to the letter, repeating whole maneuvers whenever performing a mistake. She knows her master would say otherwise, but F can't afford to make such mistakes, even the minuscule kind.

"That's enough," the recording signaled.

F swings down her saber with heavy pants, and sweat drips off her mask before evaporating on the yellow light. 'It's heavy…' she sighs. Her vision blurs before she shakes her head. Looking down again, the blade returns to feeling as light as a feather. 'What was that?" she wonders before hearing her master's voice.

"If you followed these instructions, you did well," he says, to which F nods. "If you improvised, then you did excellently. You've always followed the ancient manuscripts like it was the code, which is good. However, following such archaic techniques will leave you vulnerable to new tactics foes will use." F lowers her head before deactivating her weapon and kneeling to her Holocron.

"Forgive me, master. My time meditating and honing my skills grows less the more the empire expands. Some days I can barely sleep," she confesses.

"Well then, thus ends this recording of your Form II training," the hologram says. All that can be told from the crystal device were already said years ago. "Unless you wish to proceed to explore other forms, there's nothing more I can teach you that you can't learn yourself."

F's fingers clench on her hakama, she knows it's a recording, but it still hurts to have it ignore her. "No, teach me the advanced set. I'm ready," she orders it resolutely.

The Holocron is silent before responding, "Sorry, but these lessons are restricted. Your training still needs-"

"I order you unlock these lessons," F demands, "in these desperate times, I need-"

"Sorry, but these lessons are restricted. Your training still needs honing. Only until I deemed it so will I then-"

"But you're not here!" F shouts, her voice cracking in pain. The pain of hearing the same message repeatedly before it's only silence again. Ever since Ragoon, being alone with just her thoughts became harder to handle even after meditating, and sleeping did little to help. F wipes her eyes, steadying her voice, whispering, "I…miss you, master…I miss you. I wish you were here, Valco, t-the clones and Sagi-." F shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, her gaze looking down, "I know I mustn't let such pain control me, but…the people I thought were family are after me every day, and I really need your help."

The Holocron stood silent before responding, "Perhaps it's time to meditate. You can focus on training another time, young one." F knows this was the device's nice way of saying it's shutting down from too many requests, locking her out for a whole day.

F huffs in anger, "Fine," she mutters, gritting her teeth to stop herself from screaming at the crystal device.

Before it's locked up, the recording tells F, "my padawan, always remember this: trust in yourself, trust in the Force, and the Force will be with you…."

F sits in the darkness once the blue light fades away. Her mind was as tired as her body from training for hours. However, something else plagues her mind, and as always, she tries her best to shut it away in the recess of her conscience.

"Still weak. So weak you let others fight and die for you."

F takes a sharp breath. A memory of the battle pierces her vision, remembering the fire and screams rippling in the forest. She seals her eyes, thinking of nothing else but the code. "Enough," F hushed, pacing around the room while whispering, "you're only my doubts talking, nothing more. Emotion, yet peace. Passion, yet serenity-"

"So weak. You refuse to accept the truth of who you are: unbalanced. It's why your blade turned heavy, and you kill clones so easily."

"Shut up. I had no choice. The clones were gonna slaughter innocents," she hisses, smacking her head with the palm of her hand from the memories of each clone she slain on Ragoon.

"You've always lied to yourself, and it's why you'll fail your mission. Alderaan will submit, and you'll die by the empire's hand unless you tap into your true power!"

F fingers twitch before she thrust them forward to the entrance, causing the old metal doors to fly out from a powerful Force push. A ray of light illuminates the room as the whispers and memories of the battle go away. "Fresh air. S-some fresh air should clear my mind…." she mutters with tired, baggy eyes before she hisses and clenches her brow. "Oww, and some medicine too." Ever since Ragoon IV, she's been almost constantly flying from planet to planet while losing count of the times she's nearly flown into a capital ship. While this got her on the other end of the core worlds, F's health noticeably worsened. Messaging the temple of her head, F walks out of the hangar, eyeing her surroundings to ensure no one sees her.

At first, it was a quiet stroll, simply crossing bridges connecting structures and levels with the crowds of various creatures slowly growing. Then, a sudden tingle of the Force is felt on the back of her head. F stops in the middle of a crowded bridge leading to a transport station built inside a blue and green neon-lit building. F peeks from her hood and looks back, her keen eyes darting to any potential eyes staring back at her. She sees nothing, which worries her more and pushes her to walk faster to the station. F tossed one credit, grabbed her ticket, and jumped on the nearest shuttle.

She sighs in relief in her seat when the craft takes off, then a loud murmur beside her draws her attention. F's eyes widened before she squished against the wall as a large-sized, green-robed passenger sat next to her. The creature possesses bright red skin, three purple eyes, and two large appendages from the sides of its broad face. F could barely move from under its size and girth and whispered, "Excuse me, but could you-?"

She freezes upon finding it already fallen asleep and lowers her head in defeat, her headache somehow feeling worse. Still, F tried not to linger on it and leaned her head against the window pane, gazing at flying cars whizzing by while she quietly sat trapped in her seat. Getting a good look at the city skyline with its various city levels and flashing lights, F winces in her memories of Coruscant. Even after all these years, she could never bring herself to call the world itself a second home; now, she can't even bear to say its name.

Wherever the Jedi were, whether it was a grand, ancient temple or a humble dwelling, it always felt like home.

The shuttle releases a loud hiss once it descends to its destination, and many passengers rush out the door in a surprising hurry. All except for one who was still asleep, and F's patience grew thin. "Hello?" she asks insistently, "I'm crushed here and only have access to so much air with this mask."

"Hmmm?" the large fellow peeks open one of their eyes and glance at F. She gives a small wave before the passenger stands up and walks back, each step shaking the shuttle.

"Thanks," F coughs, walking out of the shuttle before feeling another headache.

"Hmph?" the stranger murmurs, now suddenly beside her as the shuttle flies away.

"Oh, it's nothing bad. I just need to locate a MediCure station."

"Hmmm," the stranger groaned, its tiny claws taking out a handbag. Inside was a holographic map. It shows the outline of the district before a red path is highlighted, which the stranger points out, "Hmph…uhh…hmph!"

"Ah, a shortcut," F understands, mesmerizing the path before nodding to the stranger. He puts away the map and hands F some credits to buy with. "N-no, I shouldn't," she politely declines.

But the stranger insists, "Hmm-Hmm," he murmurs.

Knowing the danger of waving credits in a rough area, F quickly takes the credits, "Thanks," she whispers. The stranger gives a slow wave goodbye before walking into the bustling crowds. "First time I've seen a species like that," F says to herself, walking out to the district's central open plaza and epicenter. "The infamous Korden District," she murmurs, watching the plaster of red and purple neon lights on skyrise buildings before her. The open area decorated with wide ad screens and vents blowing out steam has thousands roaming the night-life. F spots a balcony section, giving a good view of the surrounding metropolitan towers and the green glow of the lower levels. F quickly moves toward her destination, walking alongside seemingly endless rows of food stands, spice stores, weaponry shops, strip shows, and hole-in-the-wall cantinas.

Once she's nicely blended in with the crowds of various species, she whispers to herself, " so far, not any worse than Level 1313."

"What'cha gonna do, stab me?" a random shout is heard from afar, followed by the echo of a blaster. No one in the crowd reacted except F, who walked a little faster and kept her lightsaber handy.

Soon enough, F arrives on the street where her destination stands and passes through a row of street gamblers and their many customers. "Scammers can be found in every block," F murmurs, hearing cries from another loss bet, "and fools continue to fall for it." F approaches the one-room red and white med-station and knocks on the sealed metal window. A small eye pops out, scanning her person before retreating to the wall and opening the shutters.

A med-droid with sealed containers of medicines and equipment behind it says to her, "Greetings patient, how can I be of assistance?"

F discreetly slides forward her credits, "About half a dozen bacta patches, anti-stress capsules & the best migraine medicine you sell."

Its eyes glow, analyzing her request for shrugging, "sorry, but this will hardly cover half of your requests."

"What?! This is nearly a thousand credits," she hisses while tapping on the credits.

"And prices have gone up. If you want lower prices, I suggest heading to Corulag's capital."

F sighs and scoops up the credits, 'and be surrounded by Imperials? Not a chance. There has to be a better way.' Her gaze quickly reaches one of the gambling vendors, and she lowers her head, 'guess I'm one of those fools now.'

She pulls out her small bag of credits, thinking about how to approach these scammers. "Let's see; first, I should-" F freezes, her senses go haywire in alerting her of danger. A second later, the echo of blaster fire rings from down the street. She ducks and rolls away but loses her credits in the process now. Little remains but a burning ball of warped metal.

"You idiot! You're gonna destroy that droid bug!" a voice rings in the direction the shot came from.

However, this doesn't reach a distraught F. 'That…was everything,' she realizes, all the generosity from strangers gone instantly. F then registers the voices and glares down the street, seeing that four assailants are running towards her. 'Bounty Hunters!' she recognizes, standing up reaches for her lightsaber before something bumps into her leg.

She looks down and gasps to find an explorer droid, but this wasn't any old droid; it was a BD unit. Its blue and white color scheme is slightly worn, and a bit of rust around its joint confirms that the droid was old and that it hasn't been maintained in a while. However, what caught F's eye was that the back of its head was damaged, and one of its lenses cracked. The droid picks itself up, glancing at her for a moment before continuing to run from the four assailants.

"Where'd it go?" the orange Twi'lek bounty hunter asks.

The pink red-skinned black-haired Zeltron woman, seemingly the gang leader, spots F and subsequently the droid behind her. "It ran past that brat!" She points and alerts her Twi'lek, Aloxian, and Kessurian partners. Before pursuing, an M-68 landspeeder comes up and stops behind them, the driver revealed to be a red-eyed Jawa.

"Bo Shada!" he waves over at them,

"Right on time, Retk!" the Kessurian woman cheered.

"It won't get away this time!" the Aloxian man shouts before the speeder flies past F.

F stood still, stunned at the droid that looked so familiar to her. "That droid…it can't be…" she ponders, scouring through her memories before realizing it was the same droid. "Rei?" she muttered, fumbling forward in shock at how hurt the droid was. "Rei!" F shouts, running after the pursuers to save the droid she thought she would never see again.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

[Galvoni III]

Few things brought fear to Montar. Rancor was one of them, thanks to that one business in Felucia. Another was dying in the vacuum of space which was every sailor's worst nightmare. However, perhaps the scariest of them all was politics. Entering the angular gray and bright white walls of Galvoni's newest Imperial Assembly building, he approaches a pair of heavy doors before security clones open them with a button press.

The chamber he entered has a large bright white room. A stage was against the wall behind a white screen with the Empire's insignia. A sizeable horseshoe-shaped table seated thirteen Imperial leaders consisting of Captains, Commodores, and Admirals. 'That makes me the lowest rank amongst them,' Montar thinks before taking his seat near the center. He inspected their faces and found most to be unrecognizable, and he always prided himself in remembering people's faces.

It then hits him why that is and reminds him of his former colleague in Aradia. The empire is filling up its command structure by picking political allies, even those with little military experience.

Montar figured this would happen, especially seeing how clones dominated the Grand Army of the Republic. In fact, he recalls that upward of 95% of the army were clones, with the rest being Jedi and Republic generals taking up most of the command structure. However, now coupled with the extermination of the Jedi, the Empires have had to put quick work into filling countless new and old positions while not relying on new clone officers.

While Montar saw the enormous value in keeping the clone army, he would admit that giving them higher positions of power presents its own dangers. These men have grown a comradery so deep through blood and dirt that it'd be almost impossible to find one clone that doesn't view another clone as a brother. This bond is crucial for morale and teamwork yet leads to questions of where thier loyalty stands.

It also presented a new dangerous game in this imperial military, a game of politics. It's been a subtle but consistent trend that many of these officers have used their influence to implement new mandates to make up for their lack of military prowess. In fact, the prime example of this is sitting across from Montar, Vice Admiral Rampart, and his chain code system. Montar was undoubtedly impressed by the man if he was a mere senator or governor, but he wasn't, and he can't help but feel mocked by this. This Admiral, despite never touching a rifle or navigational compass in his life, made his way here because his family is one of the richest in Naboo.

Then again, Montar supposes this should only motivate him to rise through the ranks, only so to do his part in whipping these shinies into proper commanders the largest army the galaxy has ever seen deserves.

Still, Montar realizes that these officers were no less threatening with their silver tongues tinted with venom. Most spoke to their personal officers or scrolled through what was on the agenda, but all seemed to be keeping some secrets. Montar is reminded of his rule of entering every room with a sense of respect and confidence but, surrounded by these men and women now, Montar had little regard for these vultures while being nearly frozen in fear of their positions and presence.

"Well," he whispers to himself, "suppose this is what it's like to be surrounded by wild Nexu."

"Well, look who's here," the woman beside him says with slight surprise. Montar turns to face a woman around his age with a uniform showing she's the rank of Captain. "Senior Commander Harcourt, or the Rebel Hunter," she snarks.

"Commodore Pellian, thank you, but I'm only fulfilling my duty to bring peace in such a fragile time. Also, I'm not a particular fan of nicknames," Montar says after calming his nerves. "I heard you've been overseeing Hosnian Prime's newest Imperial stronghold."

"That and wrangling up any illegal spice activity, rather boring, honestly," Pellian sighs, taking a complimentary drink from a protocol droid, "certainly not as impressive as capturing a separatist admiral,"

Montar raises his eyebrows while also taking a drink, "I see word spreads fast. I admit I was quite surprised myself-"

"It was the deciding factor for you being here," Pellian interrupts him, her words causing him to freeze up in surprise.

A part of him wants to revel in his well-earned reward yet feels even more vulnerable in this room. "Really?" is all he could utter.

"Among other things, yes, even though none of these people will admit it," Pellian continues, "you've proven your leadership skills during the clone wars, but most importantly, you've proven your absolute loyalty to the Emperor and his ideals."

Montar tries to let out a small smile, "T-thank you…."

"Don't be thankful yet. This meeting will be your one chance to impress your superiors. Don't waste it," Pellian says coldly when a soft bell is heard.

The main doors open to a group of Surface Marshalls in charge of several sectors of the core worlds. Behind them was a Moff who had quickly become the face of the Galactic military: Wilhuff Tarkin.

"Of course, the man himself would be here," Pellian mutters with annoyance, taking a larger sip of her drink.

Montar gazed at the man as he marched across the room and sensed that even behind those stern eyes, he carried a level of surgical ruthlessness that would terrify every officer in this room. Tarkin marched up to the podium with the Marshalls seated to decide him, took a drink from a protocol droid, and began with a toast, "Hail the new Empire, hail our emperor."

"Hail!" Montar and the others chant, raising their glasses to the glorious empire.

Tarkin swiftly got down to business and activated the hologram projector on the inner part of the main table, which shows a map of the galaxy. The critical points of interest, Montar notices, were Onderon, Raxus, and Ryloth.

"With that out of the way, this conference is now in session. I, Moff Tarkin, have assembled all crucial military leaders of the core worlds to share High Command's latest strategies with you," he announces. "More precisely, how to address these small but numerous Insurgencies who disrupt our fragile peace. In addition, we'll assess the probable ties amongst each organization and determine how to best cripple their funds and connections. Finally, we'll be deciding on the future of clone production on Kamino."

Montar nearly glared at Rampart at the last part. He knew he had convinced Tarkin to include this on the agenda. He expected consequences, but Montar was prepared to counter his frivolous arguments no matter who backed him up.

Suddenly the protocol droid whispers something to his ear. "Hmm, it seems a companion of mine has decided to attend this conference. I advise those not to be intimidated by his appearance and, for your own sake, to not interrupt him."

Montar wonders who this figure could be for a moment. All eyes in the room soon converge on the large doors opening, and a loud, mechanical breath rings through their ears. Montar, and many other officers, felt a sense of dread as the right hand of the Emperor entered: Darth Vader.

He exhausts a cold breath from his mechanical helmet, proceeding to ask the conference member, "shall we proceed?"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

F made sure not to let the gang out of her sight. Her speed, aided by her heels, allowed her to keep pace with the speeder as it swerved around crowds of people. It turns right into a market street, ramming through stands and small lamps as people continue to run out of the way. F looked for any vehicle to use. Luckily she found a speeder bike beside the owner, knocked out from the flying debris. "Sorry," she says, quickly hopping on and continuing after the band of bounty hunters.

One of them pulls out a net gun, firing it to capture and disable the droid. "I got it!" she shouts, briefly holding up the little droid.

"Great shot, sweetie! I can taste the credits now!" the leader cheered.

"Not for long," F vows, using her bike's thrusters to close the gap.

It doesn't take long for the group to notice. The Zeltron leader is the first to spot F, "we got competition!" she shouts before firing her hand blaster.

F ducks and dodges each shot as both of them enter one of the city's many highways. F tightens her grips on the controls, dodging blaster fire and now dozens of speeders and bikes whizzing past them. She zooms between two speeders and tries to get in front of her target, but Jawa's driving skills weren't anything to sneeze at. "Ra'ti!" he curses at F while steering a quick left. F narrowly avoids being hit by the speeder using the two crowded lanes as a shield.

The blaster fire didn't let up either. F ducks as more of the members fire their weapons. F saw how many were hitting civilians' cars, putting them in harm's way, quickly trying to devise a plan to reach them. 'There!' she thinks, spotting a suspiciously large and armored truck in the same lane as her targets, only two speeders ahead. F boosts through cars and enemy fire before leaping on the cargo truck. She ducks down to see only a simple droid driver, "Figured as much," she discerns, igniting her lightsaber and making a hole on top before reaching her hand into the cargo: Spice. Only droids contain the loyalty crime bosses want while shipping something so illegal like spice.

"Sorry, sir, but your boss will be one shipment short," she tells the driver before cutting the primary rear latch and causing several barrels filled with spice to spew out the back and towards the bounty hunters. F watches the group smothered in orange and purple powder before leaping onto their speeder. The leader whips out her pistol but only hears it click as it jams, but the Twi'lek loads his blaster and fires at F, who narrowly dodges. She swiftly kicks it out of his hands, spotting the BD droid in the hands of the Kessurian.

"Don't touch her!" The leader shouts as F reaches out her hand to Force grab Rei until the Aloxian throws himself at her, pinning her onto the roof of the speeder.

"Steika Ba!" the Jawa shouts, waving his hand at the Aloxian.

"For crik's sake, Qint, you're obscuring the road even more!" the Zeltron leader shouted.

"It'll only take a sec," he grunts, quickly decking F in the face and realizing how tough her mask was. "Ow!" he cries, clutching his throbbing hand. Even with her mask, the blow winded F, causing her to reach for her lightsaber. F gasps when he wraps his hands around her neck, "Gotcha now!"

"Watch out!" the Kessurian warns. The Jawa steers into a connecting ramp away from the truck, but it doesn't stop a stray metal barrel from colliding into Qint's head. As he tumbles over, they realize the ramp didn't connect to a metal highway but instead an open-air road with nothing but a thousand-foot drop below them.

"QINT!" the group shout as one of their own falls over. They shield their eyes until one of them peeks to see their teammate floating. They gawk until they turn to F, her hand stretched out as she kneels up on her feet. The leader stares into F's eyes, "You're a Jedi…."

"Waah!" the Jawa shrieks, turning right as he avoids passing traffic.

"Careful or both of them will fall!" the Twi'lek barks, but F more than stabilizes to the roof of the speeder. Her heels glowed a bright blue while reverbing a soft hum, showing they're now magnetized to the metal frame.

F turns to the group when they draw their blasters at her. She keeps her cool, squints at the powered-down droid, and offers a deal. "Hand me that droid," she says, "and I'll safely hand you your colleague."

Their group share looks before the leader raises her eyebrow, "Not a very Jedi deal last I heard," she tells F, "and this bounty is ours, no exceptions."

"So you rather let your partner fall to his death?" F asks, keeping her hand steady as they fly through the skyway. She glances at any suitable spots below them.

The leader smirks confidently, "No, because I know a Jedi won't let an unarmed person die." The others slowly nod, assured they have F in the corner.

F's fingers twitch, momentarily indecisive of her options. 'There has to be a third option,' she reminds herself, glancing over the side till she finds her opportunity. F looks back at Rei, discreetly shifting her heels till the blue fades, deactivating their magnetization mode.

"Now," the bounty leader continues, still finicking with her blaster, "here's what we're gonna do, you set him down, and maybe we'll drop you off at a…not so deadly height."

F takes one last glance down before nodding, "Fine…in fact, I see a good spot now." With that, she drops her hostage down below.

"Nooo!" The group shouts in unison, distracted enough for F to Force pull Rei back into her hands and leap after her hostage.

"She got the droid!" F heard the group echo above as she free fell below towards a neighboring tower's expansive balcony, seemingly used for spare storage. She spots the hostage, sees him hurtling towards one of the crates, and reaches out to use the Force to slow him down as he crashes on top of it.

F shifts her legs to land on her feet, throwing a Force push to slow herself down, creating a large dent. Landing safely, F rolled till she was lying on her back, exhausted. F knew the bounty hunters were after her, but when she looked down at the damaged Rei in her arms, she instinctively hugged the droid, a friend shown to her by the most brilliant man in the galaxy.

F smiles and whispers, "Hey, buddy…long time no see, " between her minor coughs and recouping her energy."

"Blah," groans; F collects herself and heads towards the unconscious man. Finding that he has landed on a crate of fruits, F places her hand over his face to sense any wounds, "Good, no internal bleeding or fractures," she whispers. "Guess Aloxians are tough as bolts. Oh, and forgive my rudeness by dropping you."

"You heartless wench!" the bounty hunters shout, their speeder hurtling towards F while they fire their blasters.

F dodges their blasts and spots an exit door, "You're friend's fine, now leave us alone!" she shouts before busting through the doors.

Inside, F ran through the metal walkways and towards the building's entertainment level, containing everything from casinos to drug stores. While looking for a way out, F stumbles onto a weapon vendor with two wanted posters, a poster for a horned individual was a poster for Rei. She reads, "BD droid with ties to Insurgency suspect on the loose? Capture intact for seventeen thousand credits…." F looks down at Valco's BD companion, the pieces coming together in her mind causing her to smile, "so…not only is Valco definitely alive and out there but he's linked up with the Insurgency. Heh, that nutty old man really can't help himself."

F wonders why Valco would join because while he certainly won't stand quietly under the empire's reign, he would be the first to admit he's not the soldier or spy type. 'He must've formed deep ties for the Empire to be after even his droid,' F ponders before noticing passerbys staring at her. F tucks Rei under her cloak and paces away, 'worry about that later,' she tells herself, 'I swear when I find that old man, I'm kicking him out before he gets himself into more trouble.'

F looks for a quick place to hide. Anything short of a hole in the wall bar would work. Squeezing through crowds, she notices more around and above were looking at bounty posters. "Not good," she whispers before bumping into a tall, reptilian Tiss'shar holding a hologram of the bounty. F gasps as it screeches at her face, showing off its rows of teeth, alerting other opportunists of her presence. It pulls back to pounce on her as a cloaked man pulls out a blaster pistol, but F pulls it into her hands and eliminates the Tiss'shar before dashing away.

F pushes through crowds looking for any suitable spot to hide, when plasma strikes a person beside her. She turns, spots the sniper, fires her blaster, and watches as they fall from the second level. "Come on…there!" F grunts and turns left towards an inconspicuous pair of black doors between two crowded pleasure bars. The establishment was quite crowded, with a circular bar at the center and several tables and booths filling the room.

"We're closing up," the human bartender told F, "no new customers."

"Please," F pleads out of breath, "there are bounty hunters-"

"Buy a drink or leave!" the man insists.

No point in arguing. F rummages through her pockets, throwing meager credits on the counter. "Whatever this can buy," she whispers. The bartender sighs and begins making a drink; as he does that, F tucks Rei into her duffel bag and her dark cloak and heels.

F then touches her mask. An idea sprang in her mind even though her fingertip trembled. 'Do it. No one will see your face anyway,' she thinks, unlatching the mask but carefully covering her scar with her hand. Right on time, the bartender hands her a…well; it was liquid and a tad too green for her liking. F hears footsteps outside the entrance and sips her drink to blend in, "blah! Just close your eyes and ignore the taste," she gags.

The group to come out of those doors was none other than the first group trying to kidnap Rei. F's saw they looked worse for wear when something strange happened; the whole room began to collectively laugh at the group. F hears the bartender chuckle, "Oh hehehe, if it isn't the loser gang."

"Uh, A-actually we're the hawk-bat gang," Twi'lek insists in a softer tone before poorly imitating a hawk-bat's cry.

"Not in public, Na'men," the leader sighs. F could sense her trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Yeah, we're the bats! It feels like you're mocking us when you forget!" the wounded Qint shouts angrily. "Tell them, Silaw!"

"No, I-I think they are mocking us, Qint," the Kessurian Silaw whispers.

"Oh…wow, I hit my head hard," Qint mumbles.

"Omu`sata…" the jawa sighs, shaking his head.

"So, what does the local band of idiots want?" the bartender asks.

"We think a Je-" Qint says before Lori stops him.

"Uhhh, we think a jerk has stolen our droid, which we rightfully stole first. Said jerk should have a funny-looking mask," Lori informs, causing F to lower her head.

The room erupts with chuckles, causing Lori's pink-red face to turn bright red in anger. Sensing the merciless deprecation and nastiness from everyone against the group, F can't help but start to feel a little bad for them.

"Another bounty run?" the bartender laughs, "bahh, just get out before you start blasting my customers."

"Hey, that was ONE malfunction," Silaw talks back.

Lori cools her head, her gaze soon drawn to F, particularly her lack of shoes. F hears her unclip her blaster and approach from behind, "Hey, kid, got a sec to talk?" F fingers hover over her robe where she hides her blaster when another group enters.

"Geez, we're clos-" the bartender groaned until he saw who it was.

F glances over to see a tall, red-brown-skinned Elomin accompanied by several masked, heavily armed henchmen. The sharp horns protruded from his head and cheekbones. His orange eyes highlighted his cold expression. He had a long spear in hand and appeared to be over 50 years of age for his species, donning a long black coat with blue robes undeath. Slugged over his shoulder were a powerful long rifle and a deadly mace.

"Oh kriff, it's Verrin," Qint hisses, "Verrin the Vicious himself."

F squints at his face, feeling that he saw it before.

"Don't look at his eyes," Na'men mutters to the gang, "he can smell your fear that way."

Silaw blinks in confusion, "T-that doesn't make sense-" but she stops when Verrin stomps in front of her.

Verrin glares at each gang member before sneering at Lori, "Still running this racket, Lori?" He swipes the blaster from her hand before pointing it at Na'men, who gulps in fear.

F gaps when he pulls the trigger, only for the blaster to jam again, she sighs in relief, but Verrin only chuckles. "Can't even buy a blaster to kill a man. Gutter trash like you should know your place," he says to Lori's face with pure contempt. F didn't need the Force to see the anger and hurt in her eyes.

The bartender then speaks up, "I-if you're looking for a droid-"

"No need for help," Verrin stops, walking around and inspecting the room along with his men. F senses she'll be found and locks her eyes on the backdoor exit. Verrin circles around the center bar, closing in on F, "I know the droid is here," he says.

F quietly reaches for her blaster, seeing that she'll have to take out two goons to get out of here.

Verrin lets out a low chuckle, "along with its Jedi protector."

F eyes widen in shock, and she feels Verrin's spear poke at her neck. He kicks her bag to reveal Rei and her lightsaber. "Hello, friend," Verrin smiles, looking at her face, "you're about to make me a wealthy man."

F was more worried about her friend than ever at that moment, but she was also ready to blast Verrin before he could look at her face, at her scar. Even if this meant her throat being gashed.

A blaster boom, and F feels the spear drop to the floor. She looks to see a hole in Verrin's gut before he falls to the floor. She turns to see it was Lori who fired. Everyone was shocked, especially Lori, who gasps out, "great kriff, that worked!"

"Run!" F shouts at them as she puts on her mask and dodges enemy fire. She returns fire while jumping over the bar and dashing through the backdoors, hoping to either ditch these goons or at least confront them in a less populated area.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The ego of each member in the room showed by their own self-indulgent inputs to every subject. Maintaining public opinion in the core, colonies, and even the inner rim. The current rate of adapting naval and army vehicles and logistics and when they could finally integrate this new equipment. Addressing the delicate transition within the senate and how far they could go before the, still crucial, government body would intervene in their operations.

Montar was vocal, but he worried if his words were being drowned out by either rival members' counterpoints or Tarkin's subtle and swift dismissal of shared ideas. However, even Tarkin's cold-cutting demeanor was nothing to the armored menace standing beside him. Montar didn't know what to make of this Vader, though he had utter a few words. When he did, everyone in the room went dead silent. Something in their gut, Montar's included, told them to stay silent. Thankfully, Vader was letting the Admirals and Commodores duke it out over Saw Gerrera and the recent extraction of Confederate senator Avi Singh.

"I don't understand why we're even discussing this," Captain Konstantine sighs, "Gerrera is clearly the more present threat and has a long history of leading guerilla forces."

"He doesn't even have a small army, yet now Raxus could dangerously spawn confederate martyrs. We've lost over half a dozen walkers in a recent attack because of his absurd speech! The third time such an attack happened in the capital. This is growing out of control!" Pellian warns.

"Does intelligence have any leads to Singh's or Gerrera's whereabouts?" Vader demands

"As far as intelligence can tell us, he could be linking up with Separatist strongholds and declaring himself the new head of state," Rampart sighs.

"Singh is only a brazen senator. One act of defiance will not change that," Vader spoke. "Without a droid army, he nor any separatist would dare such a course of action nor conduct a large-scale offensive."

"I believe Vader's assessment is correct, " Tarkin inputs, "Captain Bragg will be punished for her failings, but these fears of a large-scale uprising on Raxus are overestimating their capabilities. It's not worth the vital resources or political headache."

"What headache?" Pellian questions, "both the public and Senate are out for confederate blood, why I don't find any issue with a larger-scale-"

"As traitorous Raxus actions were and continue to be, that bloodthirst is still aimed towards military targets," Montar interrupts. "Any further actions against civilians could do more harm than good. We must remain mindful of the empire's transitional process."

"And what has that brought us?" Pellian spoke up. "We failed in preventing Gerrera from rearming Onderon's insurgency. We were THIS CLOSE to integrating Ryloth until Syndulla rose up. I figured you, Harcourt, of all people would realize that from your record of hunting these insurgents."

"What are you saying?" Tarkin inquires. Vader crosses his arms, perhaps curious or tired of these unproductive opinions.

Pellian then says with eagerness yet caution, "Onderon, Ryloth, and now likely Raxus are only the beginning. Until we find the source of these Insurgents' funds, weaponry and ships, there's no doubt this could spiral into something worse… full-on civil war."

All but Montar, Tarkin, and Vader erupt in disdain of such a possibility. Perhaps out of pride in the empire's superiority or fear of this happening. "She's out of line!" Konstantine protests.

"Hear, Hear!" Rampart nods while pounding on the table. "There could be no civil war with the full power of the senate behind us. And even if traitors unite with every remaining separatist stronghold, the fighting will last no more than a year."

"If you feel that strongly, Rampart, why shouldn't we act now?!" Pellian insists. "We're on the verge of possessing the strongest fighting force the galaxy has ever seen. I say we pursue all-out war. This last campaign will eliminate any chance of future rebellion once and for all."

"So end a conflict then immediately jump into another?" Montar asks rhetorically. "The Republic died because it failed to bring order and do what was necessary, leading to a horrendous war. If we allow another war to begin now, with an army barely reforming itself, we'll only see our support slip through our fingers."

"Do you lack faith in the empire's strength?" Pellian goads.

"I lack faith in brash leaders whose track records consist only of hunting spice dealers," Montar retorts.

"Watch your tong-!" Pellian shouts before being silenced by Tarkin, who slightly raises his hand.

Tarkin glances at Vader before calmly asking, "Commander Harcourt, what do you suggest then?"

Montar glances at the conference, even at Vader's emotionless gaze, before choosing his following words carefully. "These problems must be stamped out," he admits, "and the time of covert operations and iron fist diplomacy has passed us. However, I believe the best course of action will be swift but carefully managed military actions against only the most critical targets."

"How's that not a war?" Pellian scoffs

"Unlike your brash declaration, this option will have an old republic law that will defend our actions," Montar brings up. This earns the whispers of some members. Montar slightly rolls his eyes at their ignorance of laws. "Under this law, it'll authorize the Chancellor to use necessary and appropriate force against those planets, organizations, or persons he deems were involved in attacks against the state or its civilians. We could provide substantial evidence to back up his claims, can we not?"

"And if there isn't any, the Senate will find substantial?" Rampart asks.

"We lie, exaggerate or conduct false flag operations if necessary. Plain and simple," Montar suggests. Such methods appeared to be appealing to the members. Montar sees that Vader's intense posture eases just slightly.

''Additionally," he continues, "the Senate will be unable to argue against the Navy's possessing full use of lawful weapons systems–consistent with the applicable laws of war–for precise targeting of specific high-level belligerent leaders when acting in self-defense."

"Thus, it's not unlawful, not in the eyes of the senate at least," Tarkin nods, a slight smirk on his lips, "why even killing organizational leaders and other targets won't constitute assassinations."

Seeing such approval ignited a pride in Montar, one he tries to repress for now.

"You make a strong point, Harcourt," Tarkin continues, "we'll compile a list of those deemed a terrorist or collaborator. Use these labels to authorize, under full legality of imperial law, coordinated military engagements of whole worlds to neutralize the targets and their operations. The key here will be precision and patience, to wait for the enemy to give us a reason to attack."

"Precisely," Montar emphasizes, "and we come out of it as peacekeepers in the eyes of the public."

"Indeed," Vader says in his low, cold voice, "both the public and the senate will consume every piece of information we give them. It'll only be a matter of time before they believe these insurgents are nothing more than violent extremists."

Pellian's face fumed as she rose from her seat, "Lord Vader, this will only give the insurgents more time to-"

"Further operations by these Insurgents will only seal their deaths," Vader stops her, lowering his arms as his fingers twitch. "This methodology will ensure any attack shall be returned threefold, a swift stroke that'll be more than enough to crush any planetary resistance and satisfy the senate's quench for revenge and control."

Tarkin glances at Vader and gives small gestures, causing Vader to ease his fingers. "Now then, which target should we pursue first?"

"If I were to make a suggestion," Montar spoke, "reliable agents on Mon Cala have been streaming in the information that the planet's monarchy is planning-"

"Or perhaps Alderaan instead," Vader suddenly suggests, causing everyone to freeze up, especially Montar. Vader continues, "for every find of traitorous activity on Mon Cala, an equal amount appears from Alderaan. Convenient that Alderaanian ships are frequently out on mercy missions while Imperial forces are intercepted by insurgent ships. Its leadership, though in captivity, continues to show signs of disloyalty behind his words. Every ideal and tradition in this world threaten the Empire's future machinations. I've sensed it. If there's one operation that will critically decimate the core of these insurgents, it will be a strike on Alderaan."

The room is silent, with each member, even Tarkin, deep in thought over the option. Montar, perhaps against better judgment, is the first to voice these concerns. "Lord Vader, with all due respect," he says carefully, "these are still considered baseless rumors, just our propaganda department inflating the situation. Intelligence scoured through the planet's weaponry and defense forces activity, finding nothing. Mon Cala is some outer rim world, but Alderaan is an influential founding planet of the Republic in the eyes of the senate and the masses. If the chancellor authorizes an operation on Alderaan, even the best legal defense won't stop senators from seeing this as crossing the line."

Many officers looked surprised by Montar's boldness, their gaze turning to Vader, who stared at Montar with his dark lenses. "Of all in this room who were to defend Alderaan's innocence, I shouldn't be surprised it came from an Alderaanian citizen," Vader responds.

Montar felt his stomach drop as the whole room stared at him, it'd be suffocating to others, and it nearly was for him. He nervously gulps and tries to calmly say, "I threw away my loyalty to Alderaan long ago. Their pacifists' ideals ignored the present danger the republic faced from the Separatists, leading to indecisiveness and eventually war. I was the only one brave enough to take the necessary action and do my part in bringing order."

Vader steps down from the stage, walking around the round table as he spoke, "you see their pacifism as an act of cowardice. That may be true before the Clone Wars…however, in this new era, pacifism no longer equates to cowardice…it's an act of treachery itself." Vader eventually reached Montar's seat, the dark lord's tall, intimidating stature looming over him. "Alderaan will submit, Harcourt. I sense it'll be the key to returning order back to the core worlds. Then, inevitably, worlds like Onderon will follow suit.

Montar nervously taps his finger on the desk and mutters, "good luck finding a Commodore willing to risk such a gamble."

"You are correct there, Harcourt," Vader admits, "You've showcased a level of leadership, initiative, and loyalty the Empire is looking for. Most will be impressed by such actions…but not me."

Montar then stares as Vader raises his left hand and, for a moment, feels stripped of air until hearing a swift cracking of bone. Montar sat frozen in his seat as Pellian's lifeless body collapsed behind Vader, partially as punishment for speaking against him.

"It appears a position has just opened, Commodore Harcourt," Vader coldly informs him.

Commodore stares at Pellian while faintly holding his neck, "C-commodore…" he mumbles in fear and ecstasy. He swallows to collect his mind, asking in a shudder, "A-are you a j-Jedi?"

"Don't waste your breath with fruitless questions and prepare your forces," Vader demands, "you WILL find a link that ties Alderaan to the insurgency, and if you don't, I'll find another who will."

Montar takes a deep, shaky breath and looks up at Vader. He answers, " I understand. Thank you, Lord Vader."

Vader lets out one last mechanical breath before turning to leave, attending to more important matters. "Clean up this mess," he orders upon passing Pellian's corpse before disappearing behind the steel doors.

Montar, for a moment, shuts out all outside noises as his mind scrambles at what just happened and what he should do now. "Commodore Harcourt?" Tarkin utters, which draws Montar's attention. "I believe you have more important matters to attend to at this moment," Tarkin calmly reminds him, excusing him from the rest of the conference.

"Yes…Moff Tarkin," Montar mutters before standing up to leave, a distant stare in his eyes. Memories of the past flash before his eyes, words of warning from foes ring his ears, and a hollow pit is felt where his stomach is. Montar shakes his head, mumbling back to his shuttle, "they all mean nothing to me…nothing…nothing…."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

F could sense her pursuers still chasing her as she bursts through the doors of a decrepit spice depot, filled with large, empty canisters and mechanical machinery. F dons her cloak and sees her blaster is almost out of ammo. She questions if she should use her lightsaber, knowing it'll leave evidence of her presence here. She senses a group right outside, aiming her blaster at them as they enter.

"Woahwoahwoah, stop!" The hawk-bats gang collectively shout with their arms and blasters raised up.

"Wha…what are you idiots doing here?" F asks, confused.

"Geez, is that how Jedi say thanks?" Silwa mutters as Lori lowers her arms.

"Hey, no sudden moves," F warns her.

"Relax," Lori assures, only making sure to put her blaster down, "that was my one good shot. It's like he said, we got nothing but scraps."

F senses no ill will from them, which didn't distract her over how odd this was for a bunch of bounty hunters. "What kind of bounty hunters are you?" she asks.

"The kind that gets most of its equipment by rummaging through garbage," Na'men mumbles.

"Wow…" F mutters, "no offense but that bartender was so right."

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh," Lori sighs, "here, I'll help give you material. That speeder was a rental and now has spice everywhere, so thank you for that." Their jawa friend nods and shouts furiously, seemingly liking the speeder the most.

"You hurt then proceed to kidnap my friend," F retorts.

"Hey, we take offense to that first accusation," Silaw refutes, "we pride ourselves on always turning in our bounties unharmed."

"Yeah, it probably was just some other group before us that hurt it. Besides, how were we supposed to know it had a friend?!" Qint retorts. F finds he must be the hot head of the group. "It's just a droid. Not everyone cares about them!"

F puts away her blaster and remembers something from the bar, "hey…you knew I was a Jedi, but you didn't bring it up at the bar. Why?"

The group looks at each other before Lori answers, "l-look, that doesn't matter, we only wanted the droid because…because we really need this job."

"For the money?" F asks.

"Heh, yeah, of course, it would be nice to have something other than pocket change for once," Lori nervously chuckles along with the others. "But, it'd also be nice not to be called a loser," she finishes sadly.

F slumps her shoulders, facepalming while pondering her following words, "can't believe I'm saying this to bounty hunters," she mumbles. "Look," she sighs, "they're only bullies, losers who spend their time judging those just being themselves or doing their best. You each have a passion and your own strengths, but most importantly, you trust each other more than a couple credits. That comradery is worth more than anything else."

The group takes in her words with varying reactions of embarrassed looks and smirks.

"So you shouldn't care about the opinions of bullies, and this Verrein was the biggest bully of them all."

Lori nods, "well, at least we shut his trap up."

"We got you surrounded!" the voice of a vengeful Verrin echoed across the rusty walls from outside.

"Me and my big mouth," Lori hisses before a hail of blaster fire pierce through the wall. The group ducks to separate covers alongside F, who hides beside Lori behind some barrel stacks. "You know what, kid, I'll admit it, you give neat advice. Too bad we won't be alive long enough to take it."

"Least I try to be the optimist," F retorts.

"How tough is this jerk?" Qint groans

The Jawa mutters something, causing Silaw to nod, "Yeah, he's right, apparently enough to shrug off a gut wound."

"I can smell your fear, runts!" Verrin shouts.

"See, I told you he could do that," Na'men quivers.

Eventually, the shooting stopped, but F knew they had little time before they continued or infiltrated the large depot. F looks at the group, her blaster, and Rei herself before thinking up a possible solution to this dilemma. "Okay, look," she says, getting the group's attention, "I'm not handing over my friend, but I also can't get rid of this guy with just a blaster. Help me get rid of him and earn your credits and reputation you deserve, deal?"

"What are you talking about?" Silaw asks.

"This Verrin seems to have pissed off the wrong crime boss because I saw a wanted poster of him, over fifty thousand credits for his head," F reveals, causing Lori to become enticed by F's offer.

"What do you think, guys?" Lori asks and is met with hesitance.

"Come on," F pleads, subtly clenching Rei closer, "what kind of bounty hunter turns down a higher bounty? Plus, who would want to mess with the hawkbat gang once they hear you took down Verrin the Vicious himself?"

Each member looked at one another, some still hesitant, while others seemed to have made up their minds. Lori receives a nod from each member and tells F, "You got a deal." Right on time, marching boots are heard outside. Their time has run out. "What's the plan, runt?" Lori asks.

F observes their surroundings until they notice how dusty the factory is. 'The particles…they're a mix of colors too,' she finds. F finds a decayed flower bud at her feet, 'what's Naboo flora doing here? Wait, is this…?'

Lori and the others notice, too, with Silaw scraping some old spice off the floor and analyzing it with some makeshift goggles handed to her by the Jawa. Silaw confirms F's suspicion, "powdered down Millaflower, a pretty common spice. Luckily there isn't enough in the air to incapacitate us."

"Unless we collect and concentrate the leftover powder here," F mutters. An idea sprang from her head. "Lori, get everyone to scope up every trace of this stuff. I'll look for scraps to make a smoke bomb."

Lori whips out her blaster and signals her crew to fan out to the factory floor, telling F with a smirk, "let's do this, runt."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The clatter inside the depot quiets down until a loud blast destroys a door control, causing the rusty door to collapse. A dozen of Verrin's men march in with caution, looking for any sign of the Jedi, while Verrin leads them with a limp. They stay together, searching high and low until one of the goons tells Verrin, "we're getting no signatures, boss. Maybe they escaped through a back entrance?"

"They're here. I can smell them," Verrin growls, pulling out his large blaster rifle, which hums to life.

F observes the group high in the rafters of the depot, keeping her eye on Verrin when a signal reaches her ears. "We're in position, ready when you are," Lori's voice whispers from her headset.

F drops and lands on a rusty catwalk above the group, "Verrin, your bounty is mine," she proclaims to draw his attention. The group fire at the catwalk as F backflips down to the ground floor and runs away, Verrin leading the chase after her. F purposely holds back on her speed, making sure not to lose them. She zig-zags between the lanes of the large, empty canisters and jumps over an invisible wire.

F then screeches to a half, briefly waiting for Verrin's gang to turn the corner as she loads up her blaster. The group's lights and shouts soon appear, dashing after her and unaware of the pipe at their feet. It only took one of them tripping to set off the trap, and a rainbow of spice colors exploded on their clothes and faces, causing many to cough and hack.

"Boss, it's a trap!" one of them coughs out. Soon, the effects of the dosage set in, and many of the gang act deliriously. Except for Verrin, whose physiology seemingly made him immune to the spice effects.

"Idiots!" he berates before firing at F, who dodges and gets behind cover before returning fire. "Snaps out of it, all of you!"

"R-right boss-AAHH!" one of them mumbles before burying out in pain from a strong uppercut. F peeks over to see Qint, using a bandana to protect himself from the spice, has charged into the delirious's group ranks. F could sense their intoxicated visions seeing a warped, terrifying monster which caused many to scatter in fear.

"YEAH! Face my wrath, cowards!" Qint cries, chasing after the group back to the main factory grounds, leaving F and Verrin alone.

F takes this chance and leaps out of her cover to fire. Her one shot busts Verrin's blaster as she leaps up and kicks him across the face. Verrin's rage spoke through his spear, stabbing into the hard floor and nearly cutting F. F then entered a fighting stance, duking it with the warrior, landing any punches she could while refraining from using her lightsaber.

Elsewhere, the factory soon erupts into chaos. Frightened goons fire haphazardly at the walls and even at each other from the spice effects. Some tried to collect themselves and go after the scattered Hawk-bats, "You're outgunned!" they shouted.

"Got us there, and yet YOU are exactly where I need you!" Na'men taunts before he and Silaw spring up from their hiding spots and throw crude bolas. The trapped goons tumble over as Na'men picks up one of their rifles and knocks out four of them. "Haha, it did. I actually won against someone!"

"It takes a brave heart to face such odds," Silaw compliments while arming herself.

"Tha- kriff! Behind you!" Na'men panicky jumps.

Silaw turns to see two more goons aiming down their sights. Unknown to them, inside a small barrel beside them was a sneaky jawa. "Booshaka!" he shouts upon popping up and firing his electro-stun blaster at the goons. Both collapse a bit cooked but completely knocked out.

"Nice shot!" Silaw cheers, throwing a thumbs up before following Na'men and the sound of blaster fire to find Lori and Qint. Lori confidently and swiftly faced several goons, brawling with some before using her blaster to dispose of those firing at her, while Qint was cracking skulls and taking names with vigor.

Suddenly, one goon appears out of the dark with a chain gun and begins firing sluggishly. The group takes cover with Lori beside Silaw, the others bunched together in their own cover. "Think the Jedi got Verrin covered?" Silaw asks while firing at the remaining goons, with the guys focusing on the chain gunner.

"Of course, but that brat has me worried," Lori sighs, creaking her neck from the punches she took. Lori then notices Silaw's more focused expression than her typical bored or tired looks. "Are you having fun?" she asks with a sly smirk.

Silaw shrugs while taking out another goon, "just a little."

Lori sighs, "great, I may have one good shot left, and now I'm unsure which girl I should use it for. The cute one or the strange one."

"Awww," Silaw says somewhat sarcastically before kissing Lori, "thanks but save that gusto for our next job. Now show this Verrin who's boss."

Another blast is heard, and the heavy fire stops. Lori glances to see the guys cheer over defeating the heavy gunner before going after Verrin.

Back with F, her moves swiftly dodge another jab of Verrin's spear before she grabs it, and Force pushes him into a canister. She spins the metal blade and points it at the brute, "you're men are finished, surrender."

Verrin suddenly leaps out, mace in hand, and breaks off the spearhead, forcing F to retreat from his furious attacks. "Not so strong without your fancy powers!"

"And waste it on you?" F gasps before realizing her back is against the wall.

"Die!" Verrin cries, raising his club high, followed by a sharp piercing of flesh and bones.

F saw Verrin gasp in shock before looking behind to find Lori had pierced his heart with the broken spearhead. His club falls as he drops to his knees, coughing up green blood before telling Lori, "you'll…always be losers needing help."

Lori glares back at his eyes and replies, "And you bullies will get their due," before he drops lifelessly to the ground.

F sighs that it's finally over when Lori says, "nice weapon, use it to keep your droid safe."

She then realizes her fingers were hovering over her lightsaber, "ah, thanks. Jedi muscle memory, I suppose." F gives a slight head bow to Lori, telling her, "and use your wits to keep your group safe, to grow stronger. This job won't get easier."

Lori looks over at the body and nods, "yeah…but it's them that's what makes it so fun, too."

F ponders on her strange definition of fun, given the profession they're eager to continue. However, she could sense these guys had good hearts, unlike hunters like Verrin, who cast aside any honor or morals for ruthless efficiency. F wonders, with how fast society is changing under the empire, what people will resort to survive a harsher future.

F extends her hand for a goodbye handshake until Lori pulls her in for a hug, catching F off guard. "Your secret's safe with us. Good luck!" Lori wishes, patting F on the back before letting go.

F hid her blush and disappeared through the darkness of the rafter.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

F doubled and even tripled checked she's not being followed before returning to her hideout, happier than ever to see her Z-95 again. F then gets to quick work, pulling together any tools she has on her and repairing any damage she finds on Rei. Her work wasn't her best, and Rei still had a gaping hole in the back of her head, but a quick stop for droid parts should patch that later. For now, F sits down and gently places Rei on the floor, taking a deep breath before reactivating her.

"There you go," she whispers as the BD droid comes to life with a high jump, chirping and stumbling rapidly in fear and confusion. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Rei, it's me. You're safe now," F says softly, causing Rei to face her. F then looks back in worry as Rei blankly stares at her, even tilting her head seemingly in confusion."Hey, what's wrong?" she asks concerningly, "why are you looking at me like we've never-"

F stops, and fear swells inside her of a frightening reason for why Rei is acting differently. F grabs a datapad with a droid wire plug and tries to link it to Rei's processor, but Rei backs away, beeping nervously. "I just want to check something, Rei," F assures her, gently inching closer to Rei until she inserts the wire. Rei murmurs in worry as F accesses her processor, but F pets her head to keep her calm, "shh, it's okay," she whispers.

"Alright, what's going on?" F mumbles as she reads through Rei's system status and spots a red warning. "Severe damage to…to the memory core…" she utters in quiet shock and turns in woe, causing her to drop the datapad. F leans against her ship, processing this while Rei looks at her in confusion. "You don't remember me?" she asks, her voice in quiet pain of this situation. Both for what's happened to her old friend, potentially losing such precious memories forever, and that her own feeling of loneliness lingers deeply within.

Rei inches closer to F, who bangs the back of her head on the ship, "I'm sorry, Rei…course, that name doesn't mean anything to you now. If I had run into you sooner, maybe I could've saved some of your memories, and we'd get to know what happened that separates you from Valco."

"Beep-bee?" Rei chirps, causing F's eyes to widen.

"Do you still remember him?" she asks hopefully.

"Bee-boop…bee-bee," Rei shyly responds.

"Only in flashes?" F wonders, "maybe all your memories aren't lost yet, Rei." F saw this cause confusion in the droid, so she continued, "well…Rei is your name, specifically a nickname I uhh…I gave you when I was younger."

"Beep?"

F blushes, feeling slightly embarrassed, and answers with, "I gave it to you because you seemed clever for a droid, and in my homeworld's language, it can mean cleverness. Valco liked it, as did you, and we've been close friends ever since."

Rei lowers her head, contemplating F's words and what they say about her old self. "Beep-boo?"

"Who was Valco as a person? Well…" F trails off, thinking back to happier times. From wild adventures to quiet moments studying the science of archaeology and other academia. Thinking deeply about it, F could only give one answer, "he's both the smartest and the wildest explorer you'll ever run into. He'll give the most out-there of ideas and yet somehow would be proven right at the end. He's also famously accompanied by his long-time droid companion."

"Bee-beep!?"

"Hehe, yes, that droid is you," F giggles.

"Woooah, twee-veoop!"

"Yeah, I like to see him again too…." F sadly says, formulating her thoughts before standing back up. "That settles it then. The new side objective is to find that nutty old man, give him a piece of our minds for leaving you alone and have him make it up by restoring your memories."

"Bee-yoop-beedoopbeem!" Rei cheered before receiving a system message.

"Great to hear- wait, did you find something?"

"Beep-boo!" Rei nods.

"A message, huh?" F says, stroking her mask in curiosity. "Well, let's see it," she gestures to Rei.

With a small click, Rei uses her left lens to project a blue hologram of her sole owner: Professor Dr. Valco Jones of the University of Bar'leth. The middle-aged, slightly chubby man wore his signature bucket helmet with its two yellow streaks and viewport and his blue and gray cloak and robes. He carried himself a man of his age and wisdom usually would, lifting his hands and taking off his helmet. F fell dead silent seeing the man who she saw as not only another teacher to her but something of an uncle-figure. Valco tries fixing his ruffled, gray hair while moving his craggy jawline nervously. After a moment of hesitation, Valco shrugs and says with a half-smile, "Hey, Junior."

"Valco…" F whispers hopefully, feeling her throat hiccup and emotions flare in the joy of seeing Valco again, even if it's just another hologram.

"I know you hate me calling you that, but…I'm saying it anyway," Valco chuckles. That faint laugh slowly shifts into earnest confidence. "I know you're alive out there, and it's not just a gut feeling or a vain latching to hope…I know you're still fighting. You were never one to let the darkness get to you."

F winces, a cold shiver passing by her, "I wish that were true…" she whispers.

"Junior…I can not begin to imagine what you're going through," Valco states mournfully, only imagining the level of loss and despair she has witnessed. "It's tough trying to rack one's head of why this is happening, what possibly changed, and…and I want you to know that it's gonna be okay. We'll work through this together."

"But you're not here…" F whispers sorrowfully.

"Someday we will…but not today," Valco regretfully. "I likely got hit hard by this new empire, and if you're seeing this, it means that Rei and I got separated. I hope the poor girl hasn't gotten too hurt or been alone too long. She always hated being alone."

F glances down at Rei, feeling hate towards those who hurt Rei before today and pity for what the poor, small droid has been through. "F...do not come after me," Valco pleads, "whatever has happened is too dangerous for you. The Empire will be right on my tail. Now I can handle this, it may take time, but I can shake them off. What's crucial for you is to stay where you are. You already have a hard enough time as it is hiding from these fascist fanatics, and I don't want to be the reason for you putting yourself in even more danger."

F shakes her head, she expected this the moment she saw Valco, but she had wished those words wouldn't come out of his mouth. "You know I can't just leave you in danger, Valco," F says sincerely, "you and Rei are all I got left."

Valco's serious and robust expression throughout the message falters as if knowing what F was saying. "F," he utters, "I beg you, please do not follow me. Take care of Rei until I return, remember Hitoshi's training, and don't lose sight of the light within you in this time of darkness. May the Force be with you, junior."

The message ends, his visage fading away with F reaching out for him in vain. F lowers her head, not showing her eyes to Rei while remaining deathly quiet in the large hangar.

"Beep-boop?" Rei asks in concern.

F takes a deep, heavy breath, forcing herself to respond, "I understand…Valco." F slaps her mask with the palms of her hands before facing Rei. She kneels closer to her eye level and gently says, "I know I may still seem like a stranger to you, but I only wish to protect you, find another way to get your memories back."

Rei stares at F, pondering both the message and what F has gone through to save her from nefarious forces. Rei leaps to F's shoulders in a surprising gesture, cheering optimistically, "Weeop…!"

F giggles beneath her mask, "I'm honored to have gained your trust. My name is F, by the way, not Junior."

"Beep?" Rei inquires.

"It's a silly nickname Valco gave me when I met him," F answered light-heartedly, scratching her mask with her finger. "He's the kind of old kook who finds amusement annoying his students."

"Vwoop?"

"It's a long story," F shrugs off the question.

"Weeop-vwooo," Rei insists.

"Alright," F sighs with a small smile.

She hops on her fighter but feels a sharp pain in her back. F reaches to see what it was, only to find a small bag filled with credits. 'My cut of the bounty. Hmph, Lori, you got swift fingers,' F compliments, set aside the credits and continues her story.

"Well, it all started when I was collecting books from a large library that rivals the Jedi Archives…hey, I think even you were there that day."

"Meep?!"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Across an unassuming, decrepit Terrance across from F's hideout was a scoped rifle aimed directly at the now-closed hangar doors. "I don't believe it…" the sniper gasps before communicating to his superior through his helmet's communicator. "Commander, there's no doubt about it now. It's the Jedi…it's F."

"F?! Is…is she alone?" the commander inquires.

"No, she has a BD droid on her now."

"Affirmative," the commander relays, "place a tracker on her ship once both are asleep and keep it discreet. We don't want to lose her."

"Then what?"

"Well…we'll pay her a visit, I suppose."

---

A/N: Finally released it! Also, I'm VERY excited for S2 of Visions and more star wars anime projects planned in the future. I'm also thoroughly enjoying Obi-Wan, with Vader's presence perhaps influencing my decision to include him in this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter that has gotten WAY bigger than I initially planned it to be, still I quite enjoyed how STAR WARS this one feels.