Stronger Together

Halfway to Coruscant, General Secura received a comm. She was unconscious again, and Bly hesitated a moment before accepting it. He was glad he did. The transmission warned all Jedi that the Temple on Coruscant was no longer safe and directing them to a planet in the Mandalorian sector called Vorpa'ya.

The general had been in and out of consciousness since they left Felucia. Mostly out. Bly's head ached like an acklay was trying to dig into his skull with its spiked claws, and he'd been fighting nausea since before they took off. He was glad he didn't have his blaster. He wasn't sure he would have been able to keep fighting that voice kept insisting that good soldiers FOLLOWED ORDERS.

Bly breathed out a sigh when the fighter dropped out of hyperspace and the green-gold-blue planet filled the canopy viewport. The sooner he got the general to a medic the sooner he could do something about the ixta voice in his head.

He came down over a blue-green ocean and was directed to land in a wide field that was already filled with several smaller ships and a couple of larger transports. As he brought the fighter down, his eyes fell on a field to the southwest where several tents were being raised, and briefly wondered who was camping out there.

A medical team rushed to the fighter with a hover gurney as Bly popped the canopy. The medics carefully took the general from him and hurried her back toward the village, to what he assumed was the medical center.

Bly looked around, at a loss for what to do with himself.

A blue-skinned Nautolan man walked past him, then paused and came back. His right eye was cybernetic and a good portion of the lek-tresses on the right side of his head were partially cybernetic as well.

"Waiting for someone, verd?" the Nautolan asked.

Bly blinked and tried to think through the fog in his head. There was no one waiting for him. He'd shot his general, and then committed treason by bringing her here to be healed.

"You brought the jetii, right?" the man asked.

Bly nodded.

"The jetiise and their ade are setting up camp in the field over there," the other man said. "I could show you the way."

"No." Bly couldn't be trusted around the Jedi. He'd shot his Jedi. He was a traitor. "Do you have a bar around here?"

The Nautolan nodded. "Follow me."

/././././

When Aayla opened her eyes, she found Master Yoda sitting next to her bed. The little green master's complexion was pale, and he wore an uncharacteristically somber expression. Then he met her gaze and a little smile lifted his lips.

"Good to see you awake, it is" Yoda said.

Aalya shifted a little in the bed and stifled a groan. "It's good to be awake. I was worried for a minute there. Where's Bly? What's going on, master?"

"Seen your commander, I have not," Yoda said. He took a deep breath. "Attack the Jedi, the clones did. Implanted with a biochip, the clones were, and to follow someone else's orders, they were compelled. A few of the clones, able to fight the chips' effects, have been. Helped us escape Coruscant, they did."

Aayla sank back into the bed and tried to process the news. A biochip controlling the clones explained what had happened on Felucia. She reached out through the Force for Bly and felt a muddle of emotions from her beloved. Coming more alert, Aayla did a quick assessment of her body. She was tired, she ached a bit, but there was no restriction to her movements. She must have been in bacta for a few hours at least.

"Wait," she said, looking at Yoda. "If the clones helped you escape Coruscant, then where are we?"

The little green master sighed. "Quite a story I have to tell you."

An orange-skinned Nautolan woman with wine colored speckles abruptly stalked into the room radiating irritation.

"You're awake. Good," the woman said to Aayla. "We need to talk about your commander."

"Wait to tell her until she was more rested, I thought we had decided, Clan Leader," Yoda said, shooting the Nautolan a look.

"What about Bly?" Aayla interrupted.

"That man is a menace," the clan leader growled.

Under normal conditions, Aayla might have laughed and agreed, but these were far from normal circumstances, and annoyance was pouring off the clan leader in waves.

"What has he done?" Aayla asked.

"He's refused to be dechipped, and he's fighting with my verde. Not just my warriors, but the herders and craftspeople too. I've had to lock him up, jetii, to keep him from hurting others. And himself."

Aayla muttered something uncomplimentary about her commander and swung her legs off the bed.

"Rest, you should, Master Secura," Yoda said. "Deal with Commander Bly, I can."

"He's my commander," she said, reaching for the robe draped over the end of the bed, and stuffed her feet into a pair of slippers. "I'll deal with him."

She'd pushed through worse pain and injuries while leading her men into battle over the past three years. She could more than handle a little fatigue and achiness. She looked at the clan leader.

"Please, lead the way."

The Nautolan woman nodded and Aayla followed her through a medbay stuffed full of injured clones, then out into sunlight. Aayla's eyes watered at the brightness and she blinked rapidly. The air was cool and smelled of the sea. People bustled around the village, and Aayla was surprised to see several younglings in Jedi robes. When Yoda had said they'd escaped Coruscant, she hadn't realized they'd brought the crèche as well. Just how bad were things?

Aayla shivered as she remembered that Bly, Deviss, and the others had shot her. Things were very bad, indeed.

"In here," the clan leader said, stepping into a low building.

Aayla stepped into a small vestibule and got another shock; two people dressed in the Mandalorian armor, complete with the distinctive T-visor helmets, standing guard over a double row of cells down a long hallway.

"Alor," the guards said, pressing their right fists over their hearts.

"This is the prisoner's general," the Nautolan woman said. "You can release him into her custody if she deems him fit."

The two guards nodded.

"Thank you, clan leader," Aayla said.

The woman nodded and left.

"Far left cell," one of the guards said when Aayla hesitated.

She nodded and started walking. A presence in the first cell on the right caught her attention. A blue-skinned Nautolan with a cybernetic eye slouched on a cot. He looked up when she paused. Several bruises were blooming on his face. He jerked his chin at the last cell.

"He yours?" the man asked.

"He is," Aayla said.

The Nautolan grinned. "Lucky woman."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled. Aayla continued to the cell the guard had indicated, passing a few more occupied cells. Bly was curled on the cot, his back to the bars.

"Bly?" she called softly.

He didn't look at her or acknowledge her.

"Bly, talk to me, ma sareen."

"Don't call me that," he bit out harshly.

"What should I call you then? Cyare?"

There was a soft murmur from the Mandalorians, and she sensed their surprise. Aayla focused on Bly again.

"Or maybe ner kar'ta?"

"I tried to kill you!" Bly snarled, rolling to a sitting position facing her.

Aayla winced. His face was a mass of bruises. His bottom lip was split and there was dried blood under his nose. Now that she looked more closely, his blacks were filthy. It could have been a trick of the light, but he looked thinner too.

"I should have been stronger," Bly ground out, turning away from her again. "I should be stronger than this thing in my head."

He slammed his fists into his forehead. Then again.

"Bly," Aayla cried in alarm.

And again.

"Bly!"

And again.

Aayla reached out with the Force and wrapped Bly in its gentle embrace. Enfolded him in her presence.

A guard rushed into the hallway behind her and Aayla waved the woman away.

"It's alright," she said.

The Mandalorian gave her a dubious look but backed out of the hall again.

"Please, ma sareen," Aayla said to Bly, sliding to her knees, unheeding of the tears that dripped down her cheeks. She released her Force hold on him. "Please don't hurt yourself. What do you need, cyare? Do you want me to leave?"

"No," he gasped raggedly.

"You are stronger than the chip," Aayla said. "You didn't kill me. You brought me to safety. Now let's get it out of you. You don't need to prove anything more." She held out her hand to him. "Please."

Bly slid off the bench and crawled over to her. He pressed his head against the bars and Aayla carded her fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Get it out of me," Bly whispered brokenly.

"The prisoner, as requested, sir," a vod's voice came through the comm.

Colt stopped pacing and pulled his bucket on, then headed for the door to his quarters. He hit the release and the door hissed open. His breath caught at the sight of his general.

Even in the orange jumpsuit that clashed with her crimson skin, she was lovely. Tall and proud and, most importantly, alive. He'd feared the worst when he'd heard of the attack on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

"That will be all, troopers," he said.

The guards saluted and left. Colt stepped back so Shaak could enter. He locked the door behind her. She walked to the center of the sitting room/office and turned to face him.

"Commander," she said coolly.

Colt's heart thudded painfully in his chest. She had no reason to trust him now, but he hoped to start to repair that trust, even as the voice in his head whispered that all Jedi were traitors and good soldiers followed orders.

Colt shoved that voice as far back in his head as he could and took a steadying breath. He stood in front of her and removed the binders from around her wrists. He saw her eyes widen.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't answer, but walked to the couch and removed his bucket. Then he started taking his armor off, stacking the plates neatly on the cushions. This was the quickest way he knew how to show her he meant no harm. Neither of them spoke until he'd finished. Colt unclipped her lightsaber from his belt and stood in front of her again. He took her hand, and placed her lightsaber in her palm, closing her fingers around the hilt.

"I'm hoping to earn your trust again, general."

"You're asking me to trust you, but you shot one of my companions."

"To save you," Colt said. "The clones escorting you may have had orders signed by the Emperor, but it's not the same as having his voice inside your head. We know we have to follow orders, but Order Sixty-six hasn't been rescinded by the Emperor. And a document on a can only alter it so far."

He took a breath. "I showed the others that you're not a threat. None of the Jedi used their Force powers. The suppression collars work. In their eyes, you've dropped in threat level."

Shaak narrowed her eyes at him. "How do I know this isn't just an elaborate trap, commander?"

Colt's heart sank. He'd confessed his feelings to Shaak once. After he'd been nearly killed by Ventress. Shaak had been sitting by his bed in the medbay when he woke after coming out of the bacta tank. He'd been having a nightmare and startled badly when he awakened to unfamiliar surroundings. Shaak's hands had been warm against his chilled skin, her familiar voice soft and soothing. She'd held him until he stopped shaking.

He'd pulled back slightly, so he could press his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Shaak," he'd whispered.

She'd smiled brilliantly and rubbed her nose against his. "I am aware of your regard, Colt." Then she'd sighed. "But a Jedi is forbidden from forming attachments."

He'd lifted his head and cupped her face, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "I'm not asking for anything you can't give. I just . . . needed to tell you."

Since that day, she'd only called him 'commander' when they were in public. If they spent hours together in his room going over reports, or ate a quiet dinner in her quarters while reviewing duty rosters, she'd called him Colt.

Losing that familiarity, that closeness, made his chest ache.

"What else can I do?" he asked.

"If you want to prove your good intentions, commander, then protect the Padawans," Shaak said. "The other Jedi and I will only be able to do so much without our lightsabers or our abilities."

She held out her lightsaber to him. Colt hesitated, then took it back from her.

"If there's nothing else, commander."

Colt retrieved the binders and clasped them around her wrists. He paused for a moment, holding her hands.

"Shaak, what I told you in the medby, after Ventress, my feelings haven't changed."

If he hadn't been standing so close to her, if he hadn't known her so well, he might have missed the slight widening of her pupils, the quick hitch of her breath. After a moment, when she made no other move, Colt squeezed her hands and stepped back. He lifted a comlink from his desk.

"Guards, come get the prisoner and return her to her cell."

"Right away, sir," came the reply.

Colt walked to the door and unlocked it. He turned back to his general.

"I'll protect the Padawans," he said.

Rayshe'ase's head came up when he heard boots on the floor outside his cell. A couple of troopers had come and taken General Ti away a little while ago, and he was worried. He didn't like how his vode were acting; cold and . . . droid-like. Calling each by their CT numbers, instead of their names.

Something is very wrong and Rayshe'ase was more convinced than ever that General Ti and the other Jedi needed to be gotten off Kamino as soon as possible.

The footsteps stopped outside Rayshe'ase's and the door slid open. He rose and went to General Ti's side as she entered. She looked pale.

"Sir, are you alright?" Rayshe'ase asked. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No, Rayshe'ase. They didn't hurt me."

But he could see her shaking. Feeling terribly bold, Rayshe'ase put an arm around his general and helped her to the sleeping bench.

"General—"

"Master Ti, please," she said.

Rayshe'ase nodded. "Master Ti, what happened? You seem . . . troubled."

She hugged herself. "I was hoping to find an ally when I came here. But now I don't know if I can trust him." The general turned to Rayshe'ase suddenly, her eyes intense, and took his hands. "You get released tomorrow, correct?"

"Yes, gen—uh, Master Ti."

"I need you to find someone for me. A scientist named Tial Dovia. Let her know I need to speak with her. But you mustn't let anyone else know."

Rayshe'ase nodded. "You can count on me, general."

Mando'a:

Cyare - beloved

Ner kar'ta - my heart

Rayshe'ase - Fives

Ryl:

Ixta - damn

Ma sareen - my sweet