Chapter XXIX
Imperial Star Destroyer Exactor, orbiting Oscura, 19 BBY
Dragged out in chains, escorted by an octet of clones – their white armor decaled in the dark blue markings of the 501st Legion – Kali'sto looked out and beheld his surroundings.
Built into the ventral hull of the Star Destroyer, the hangar bays encircled a vast, rectangular pit separated from space by an invisible shield, the star-studded void looming like the mouth of a demon. Kali'sto couldn't help but imagine himself and Rays trying to teeter across the edge of a cliff, and one wrong move would send them falling into the abyss.
Standing at attention was the entire 525th Battalion, all remaining 331 of them. Their orange-red markings and modified wargear stood out vividly against the uniform blue trim of the rest of the troopers stationed aboard. Kali'sto could make out Cobalt's sheathed vibrosword, Husker's painted wings, Nav's Mandalorian beskar'gem, Mosaic's vivid rainbow of sigils and markings. The differences were more noticeable amongst the remaining nonclone members, whose variations in size, shape, and other qualities made them especially prominent. Kali'sto couldn't help but wonder what tasks the Imperial Army would assign them.
He was marched up to the apex of a podium where his executioner awaited. One of the most imposing men Kali'sto had ever seen, if he could even be called a man.
Darth Vader felt strangely familiar. Kali'sto suspected that he had met this being before. Glancing at the lightsaber on his belt, he couldn't help but suspect that Vader had once been a Jedi…
"Turn around, Kali'sto," the voice didn't come from one of the 501st clones. As he complied with the order, Kali'sto knew that Splinter, who walked onto the podium, was the one who issued the order.
"Before you stands a traitor to the Empire," Darth Vader's voice bellowed from his mask, addressing the assembled Scorchers.
Kali'sto stood there in silence as Vader's words sank in, watching the trooper's reactions. Behind their armor, some were hesitant, others intimidated. Few had looks of approval.
"The Jedi turned against the Republic and attempted to seize control of the galaxy," Vader continued, "And when they revealed their hand, your loyal brothers ended this threat and saved the galaxy."
"Yet this unit," Vader spoke more sternly, "has seen fit to spare an enemy of the state."
Suddenly, Kali'sto was pistol-whipped in the back by one of the 501st troopers, yelping in pain. The impact made him fall to his knees. As his senses cleared, he felt the muzzle of a blaster carbine against his head.
"The Jedi are an order of traitors!" Vader barked, "By sparing him, you have committed treason!"
"However," the dark executioner's tone softened, "The Emperor has decided to show you mercy. You have proven to be an invaluable asset. He will allow you to prove yourselves worthy to serve the new Empire we have forged. If you correct your great mistake."
Kali'sto sensed Rays approaching the podium behind him. Even without the Force, he could sense his husband's apprehension, dread, sadness, anger, and rage. It was all suppressed: Rays was acting largely on emotional autopilot. The only way he could do this was to let CC-4242––his birth number, which he repurposed as a nickname for his tactical instincts, his Commander persona––take over. Kali'sto knew that this was the most painful thing Rays would ever have to do.
Do it for your siblings, Rays, Kali'sto thought, This is the only way.
"Commander Rays was the one who issued the order to spare this Jedi," Vader continued, "He will correct the mistakes of your unit."
Kali'sto braced himself as Rays stepped forward. One of the 501st clones grabbed Kali'sto's shoulders and pulled him up, forcing him to look at his husband's sun-painted faceplate, straight into his visor. Kali'sto was worried that Rays couldn't do this.
"Commander," Vader ordered, "Prove your loyalty."
Rays grabbed his blaster pistols and aimed them at Kali'sto's head. The weapons shook in his hands.
Kali'sto closed his eyes, hoping Rays would do the same. Though he didn't want to do this, and he didn't want to put his husband through so much pain, he was at peace with his death, knowing that it gave Rays and his troops a chance to live, to fight another day. Though Kali'sto wished they could have had more time, he was happy for the years they had together. He was ready.
Suddenly, he felt a slight woosh of air in front of his scalp, and felt an outpour of alarm and shock throughout the hangar.
Kali'sto opened his eyes. He was horrified to see that Rays was pointing his pistols at Vader.
"No," Rays whispered.
Vader barely budged in response to Rays' sudden act. He stood there, immobile, as if he was unimpressed. The entire room was silent. No one moved a muscle.
"Rays," Splinter pleaded, "Stop, think about what you're doing."
"I know what I'm doing, Splinter," Rays replied. His blasters still trained on Vader, Rays spoke again, his voice loud as he addressed the rest of the hangar,
"Scorchers! We have fought and died because it was what we were raised to do, what we were created to do! But deep down, we all knew what would happen in the end.
I've lost too many brothers, sisters, friends," he continued, scuttling any chance of gaining the Empire's favor, "Loyal soldiers, true friends. Our family. All for people who think we're expendable, that we don't matter. But we do, every single one of us. We know, more than anyone else, the life they've denied us.
I've made my choice," he finished, "Please, make your own."
A second of silence ensued before Vader finally spoke:
"Your commander has doomed himself," he declared, "But the rest of you may still prove your loyalty if you execute him and his fellow traitors."
Kali'sto's gut clenched as the crowd of Scorchers glanced towards one another, towards Rays, towards Kali'sto, towards Splinter, towards Vader.
"Huuguughghg huurh raaaaaahhgh!"
Gala's call to arms echoed through the massive hangar as she raised her rifle towards Vader.
Then, Neville raised his blaster. As did Nav. And Mosaic. As did the rest of the Scorchers, almost all of them raising their carbines, pistols, and rifles. But, to Kali'sto's surprise, they weren't trained on him or Rays or Gala. They were aiming at Vader, and his 501st troopers assembled around the hangar.
Though there were a few dissenters, for the most part, they stood together. Men and women, humans and wookiees, clones and naturalborn. In one decisive moment, the Scorchers had all chosen their side.
Gala stepped forward, speaking a loud declaration in Shyriiwook.
"What are you saying?" the 501st captain – Fox – asked.
"In the name of the kriffing Scorchers," Neville translated, "We order you to surrender our friend."
Kali'sto's terror and dread gave way to a sense of pride.
Vader stood tall, his hand moving towards the lightsaber on his belt. Splinter seemed paralyzed, glancing back and forth between Rays and Vader.
"Lord Vader," Rays declared, emphasizing every word, "I order you to stand down and release my husband."
Kali'sto braced himself, ready to move the second Vader did.
To his shock, Vader didn't budge. Instead, a fire seemed to ignite inside of the Sith Lord, a conflagration normally held at bay through sheer will, but now unleashed, paralyzing him. Behind that mask of determination, anger, and awe-inducing terror lay regret, loneliness, and pain.
"You loved someone once, didn't you?" Kali'sto realized.
Vader only affirmed Kali'sto's revelation with his silence.
"Kallie, what are you doing?" Rays asked.
Kali'sto probed further, attempting to discern Vader's true identity. He recognized the Sith Lord not as an adversary, but as a kindred spirit.
Vader finally spoke, "I did. I saw she would die, and no one helped me. I wanted to save her, but it cost me everything."
"You can still make it right," Kali'sto responded warmly.
He couldn't help but notice that Rays, though his pistols were still trained on Vader, was gesturing with his fingers. His movements were subtle, but recognizable to Kali'sto and any Scorchers close enough to see them: a contingency prepared for hostage situations and standoffs. Hand signals.
Kali'sto understood what Rays was doing, and what he wanted Kali'sto to do.
Keep talking.
"Allow us to leave, come with us," Kali'sto continued, probing his adversary with the Force to unravel the mystery behind Vader's mask, "Maybe you can find what you have lost."
Suddenly, Kali'sto realized who lay beneath the mask, "Her death need not be in vain…Anakin?"
Upon the mention of his name, the fallen Jedi flinched. Kali'sto looked into Vader's mask, hopeful that he had reached the Jedi beneath.
Suddenly, Vader raised his foot and stomped upon Kali'sto's ankle. Kali'sto screamed in agony as his limb shattered like glass, white-hot pain coursing through the entire leg, crippling him and pinning him to the floor.
Rays and his troops immediately opened fire. The Scorchers scattered, breaking off into units that coordinated their attacks across the hangar, catching Vader's forces off guard. The distinctive circles of stun blasts and thin plasma bolts flew through the air as squads of fire-painted Scorchers battled a sea of blue-white 501st clones.
Kali'sto lay prone upon the ground––motionless, crippled by pain, only able to watch––as Vader ignited his lightsaber and met their blasts, deflecting and redirecting them. The former Jedi held his ground, pushing Rays back into the crowd of flame-painted soldiers and forming a defensive line with his own troopers.
Suddenly, a grenade flew towards the Sith Lord. Vader caught the device in midair just before it reached him. Kali'sto turned and saw Rays flicking a detonator in his hand.
An electromagnetic field engulfed the dark lord, electricity arcing through Vader's armor. The Sith Lord yelled in pain as the energy coursed through his body, his spasming hand dropping his lightsaber.
The Scorchers followed up with a brutal assault of blaster bolts, set for both stun and kill, each adding to the torrent of agony their target was experiencing. Vader dropped to his knees, supporting himself with one malfunctioning hand. He continued to grunt with pain as the Scorchers fired bolt after bolt after bolt, burning his black armor apart to sear his flesh and leave his mechanical parts spitting sparks until…finally…the Dark Lord collapsed in a heap. His breathing was erratic, whatever machinery had been grafted to his flesh clearly straining to keep him alive. Around him, the 501st troopers were forced back, leaving the wounded Kali'sto behind.
"Secure the hangar!" Rays ordered as he approached the podium, "Pattern Delta-Yellow! Keep your blasters on stun, I don't want to kill any more of our brothers if we can avoid it!"
Kali'sto could still hear the sound of blasterfire as Rays yelled, "Mosaic, I need your help here!"
Kali'sto's body was carefully rolled over. The wounded young man looked up to see Rays and Mosaic over him. As Rays removed Kali'sto's shackles, Mosaic rummaged through his supplies.
"Wookiee painkiller, Twi-lek...got it!" Mosaic removed a hypoinjector from his kit and injected it into Kali'sto's leg. The pain in his limb receded from agonizing to a mere throb. Kali'sto sighed, expelling a hint of the tension that had accumulated within him.
"That was incredibly stupid, Rays," Kali'sto declared.
"I just couldn't do it, Kallie," Rays remarked, attaching Kali'sto's lightsaber to its owner's belt, "Would you?"
"Never," Kali'sto instinctively responded. He felt a strange sense of clarity as he spoke. With that one word, he felt that he had finally abandoned a facade years in the making. After years of moral compromises and rule-breaking, he was finally embracing a truth about himself he had been reluctant to admit: he was no longer a Jedi.
Surprisingly, Kali'sto didn't feel any sense of loss or regret at his decision, only relief. He had no need for the Order; he had something stronger and more meaningful.
Rays looked up and said, "Merchant! Tipper! Help me get Kali'sto to a shuttle!"
As the two troopers arrived, Kali'sto asked, "What is your plan, exactly?"
"I'm making it up as I go," Rays began, "But they were idiots to put us in the hangar."
"You aren't worried this is a trap?" Kali'sto asked.
"Of course it's a trap," Rays responded, "Which is why I sent Nav to hangar control. She's already cleared it, she and Ember have the hangar secured for us. All we have to do is clear the area, secure some ships, and get out of here."
"After that?" Kali'sto asked as Merchant and Tipper grabbed Kali'sto and helped him move to his feet, supporting his arms on their shoulders. Kali'sto did his best to hold his injured leg above the floor.
"We'll figure it out from there," Rays replied warmly.
Kali'sto smiled through the pain. The hole that had briefly materialized in him was immediately filled.
Taking up position behind a pile of crates, Rays signaled one squad of soldiers to help him provide cover fire. Kali'sto looked around as he and the two troopers who supported him moved towards an awaiting CR20 Troop Transport.
Despite their initial disadvantage––being clustered into one space––the Scorchers had managed to do what they always did: take their opponents off guard, seize the advantage, and then move swiftly towards their goal: in this case, capturing the starships within the hangar. Several shuttles, transports, and gunships were already secured, and Kali'sto noticed a handful of clones moving towards a row of starfighters.
After everything they had been through, they were going to be alright.
Kali'sto's relief and joy gave way to a sense of empathy for the former Anakin. He couldn't help but glance back towards the prone Vader, feeling pity and regret for the poor being.
A dark thought occurred to him: though he was horrified at the mass slaughter of his old companions and friends in the Order, a small part of him couldn't help but think that after decades – if not centuries – of moral compromises and shortcuts, the Jedi had brought this upon themselves…
Suddenly, Kali'sto felt a premonition in the Force; a deep sense of alarm. He kept his gaze upon the fallen Sith Lord, carefully listening to his breathing. It was the same damaged, erratic rasp, again, and again, and again…
Suddenly, as if a switch had been activated, Vader's cold, mechanical breath returned. The Sith Lord started to stir.
"Rays!" Kali'sto yelled. Rays turned and looked back towards the podium. Even in full armor, his horror was easy for Kali'sto to see.
"Priority target!" a panicked Rays yelled as he trained his pistols on the rising Vader. Many of the Scorchers turned their weapons upon the armored giant, firing with the intent to kill.
Vader's crimson lightsaber reignited with a sharp hiss, wielded with a greater sense of fury. Moving back to his full height, the Sith Lord marched forward, a mechanical harbinger of death and destruction.
A knife stabbed Kali'sto's heart with every trooper slain by Vader's hand. Mali, Tripo, Rangshi, and Batjaarr fell to their own blaster bolts. Dee suddenly started choking, collapsing to the ground. Prank was pulled towards Vader and dismembered. Foe was beheaded. Mylin stabbed through the heart. Gimn blown up by his own grenade, taking a gunship and the rest of his squad with him in a pillar of flame.
Kali'sto's nightmare was coming true. They were going to die, and it would be his fault.
"Hurry, hurry!" Merchant declared, hurrying Kali'sto towards the transport, "We're almost there!"
Suddenly, Merchant let go of Kali'sto, dropping him on his stomach. Kali'sto quickly turned his body – using his hands to support himself – and saw that Merchant had fallen to his knees, clutching his throat and gasping for breath. He looked up to Tripper firing at Vader, attempting to delay his advance, only to be slain by one of his own deflected blaster bolts, joining his asphyxiated brother in death.
Using one arm to support himself on the ground, Kali'sto grabbed his lightsaber and ignited it, if only to make a futile last stand against the advancing Sith Lord…
Suddenly, a massive turbolaser blast impacted the ground at Vader's feet, unleashing an explosion of flame and detritus that forced Kali'sto to shield his eyes as the residual heat stung his face and arm.
As an additional blast staggered Vader, Kali'sto turned towards the weapon's source, discovering it to be an AT-TE cannon operated by Neville and a handful of other Scorchers.
The heavy walker's blasts continued to stagger the Sith Lord, as additional Scorchers supplemented the tank's heavy fire with a hail of blaster bolts and rocket launchers. The combined weight of this assault forced Vader to telekinetically raise the remains of a gunship door, brandishing it as a makeshift shield against the Scorcher's onslaught.
"Kallie!" Rays yelled, running towards the prone Vie'vantae.
"Rays," Kali'sto began, "I'm so sorry…"
"Come on!" Rays grabbed Kali'sto and holstered him onto his shoulders, "We're getting out of here."
Amidst the field of fire, the two limped towards the troop transport, guarded by a cluster of troopers taking cover behind crates, one of the bulwarks the Scorchers had formed around the vessels in the hangar. With his free hand, Rays signaled one of the troopers to provide cover fire as he escorted Kali'sto to the descending ramp.
Around Kali'sto, the Scorchers held Vader and the remaining 501st back, protecting the small number of vessels they had secured. Amidst the debris, flames, and scattered wreckage, they fought to escape, to protect each other, and to live.
"We're almost there, Kali'sto," Rays assured him, "Hold on. Hold on."
They finally reached the open maw of the large transport.
"Gala, help me get him inside!" Rays ordered.
"Aarrragghuuhw aarrragghuuhw!"
With Gala's help, Kali'sto was brought aboard. Troopers began to flood the crew compartment as Kali'sto was laid down upon a biobed in the CR20's small medbay.
"Gala," Rays instructed, "You have to get out of here. Gather everyone you can, follow Panther's lead, blast your way out."
Gala nodded solemnly.
"Rays," Kali'sto began, "What about you?"
"The rest of the troopers still need me," Rays responded, "We'll take escape pods. We'll meet you planetside, okay?"
"Rays," Kali'sto said, "You won't make it."
"Kallie," Rays said, "We'll find a way. We always do."
"Not this time," Kali'sto declared. He knew in his mind, heart, and the Force that Rays wouldn't come back, "Please, stay with me. Don't leave."
"This is how it happened, Kallie," Rays responded.
The only thing a confused Kali'sto could say was, "Rays?"
"Kali'sto, you have to get out," Rays explained, "I'm already dead."
"Rays," Kali'sto continued, "What is…"
Gala and the surrounding troopers faded away, the distant sounds of battle growing silent. The pain in Kali'sto's leg reduced itself to a dull old throb. His attire changed; he now wore a long threadbare hooded jacket and a shoulder bag.
"This is a vision, isn't it?" Kali'sto realized. Curiously, his voice didn't sound hoarse or faded. He still felt young.
"Does it matter, Kallie?" Rays asked. Even though he was most likely either just a manifestation of Kali'sto's subconscious or the Force communicating to him, Kali'sto felt tears well in his eyes.
"Why are you here, Rays? Why am I still haunted?"
"I know why," Rays replied, "Because of Tau. Because of your son, because he's a Jedi, and because he just went off to war."
"Rays," Kali'sto grew hot with anger as the image of his son leaving came back to his mind, "He's not ready to face that pain."
"Don't tell me any of us are ready. No one is."
"Riko's had no guide…"
"He has one! You!" Rays said, "You're his father."
"Like you were?" Kali'sto yelled, "Risking your own family for me?"
"Whether we made the right choice or not doesn't matter now," Rays replied, "Your son needs you now."
"I have failed," Kali'sto responded, "I spent too long away."
"Make up for it!"
"I can't!" Kali'sto yelled, "I tried, and I failed him! Just like I failed Tau."
Dad always told me that I would have an important destiny, Tau Skywalker's words echoed through the shuttle, that I inherited a great responsibility. He told me that one day, I might even lead the Order, like my ancestors did.
Kali'sto saw Tau himself slumped in one of the transport's seats. The young Jedi Knight's shoulders were heavy with the burden of expectations, his bright blue eyes burning with a desperate need for answers.
I've always wondered what that meant. What my destiny is. What I'm supposed to do. I thought, maybe, if I studied the Force, traveled the galaxy, maybe I'd understand. I embarked on a journey all by myself. But, I found nothing. I'm still lost.
Both Rays and Kali'sto were silent.
Then Rays responded, "So that's what it's about, then. You think you caused this."
"That isn't…" Kali'sto trailed off. Rays said nothing, but Kali'sto knew he couldn't keep lying to him. Or himself.
"At night, I still see you in my arms," he admitted, "I remember Charmer, Bonfire, Bullseye, everyone who died in battle. The Jedi forced you to live a life of servitude, to endure horrors without ever knowing. We were all victims, Rays. I don't want that to happen to my son."
"Kallie," Rays grabbed his hand, "There are people in danger, people Riko wants to help. You know what the Empire did, what Tau's already doing. Sometimes you have to fight a battle."
Tau was my master, the memory of Bao-Sklar Pierce's impassioned plea bellowed through the air, He was my mentor, and my greatest friend. And now he has fallen. Grand Master K'Kruhk is dead, the entire council is gone, murdered at his hand. The Jedi Order is under his control, hundreds of lives are at stake. We have to stop him.
"Why this fight?" Kali'sto asked, "I thought they could change, I thought that Tau represented a brighter future for them…"
"But I was wrong," he finished, "The Jedi will always be victims of their own power. Always. And now Riko has chosen that path, and I couldn't stop him."
Both Rays and Kali'sto were silent, for a brief moment.
Then Rays removed his helmet, showing his face to Kali'sto. There were key differences from the standard uniform face moulded from a young Jango Fett: a slightly more rugged and grown out haircut, a slight degree of stubble around his face and goatee. And the scar on his chin, white against his tan skin, the first sign of individuality that Kali'sto had spotted, years ago.
"When you and I were together, Jedi were emotionally stunted monks taken as infants," Rays declared, "Now they have friends, relationships, even families. Kids grow up with their parents. Even if it's still in their code, they threw out the spirit of that "there is no emotion" osik. I mean, the guy who refounded them was a farmboy from some dustball."
A moment of silence passed as Kali'sto contemplated the meaning of Rays' words.
"Do you really think they can change, Rays?" Kali'sto asked.
"I was raised to be an obedient soldier," Rays replied, "I learned I was more than that, I realized that I was a person, too. You taught me that."
For one moment, Kali'sto saw Riko standing there again, upright with conviction, certain in his purpose as he confronted his father.
I've been through that, Dad, his earnest speech echoed all around them, I've risked my life before: on a Consortium pirate ship, on Taris, on Atarashi'ie, Dromund Kaas, Ambria, and Nyr'itz. I've had to fight people from my own order. I've had to kill in self-defense, and I've learned to spare lives whenever I can. I've been hurt, I've been tested, and I've always found a way to come back stronger from it.
I found another purpose in it all, his son had declared, I want to help people, I want to save lives, and the best way I can do that is as a Jedi. This is who I am, and I've come too far and done too much to turn back now.
Kali'sto felt something shift around him.
"Come on," Rays grabbed Kali'sto, lifted him off of the seat.
"Here," Rays handed Kali'sto his staff. Kali'sto followed him out of the transport.
The hanger, Vader, and all of the carnage had vanished. They were back on Oscura, looking out towards the sunset.
"Look at this," Rays pointed towards an energetic droid that was playing with a small swarm of rainbow-hued glowing insects. He was small, with large eyes, a large head, and a wheel instead of legs. It was Niner.
"Did your son build this?" Rays asked.
"He did," Kali'sto responded, smiling, "When he was twelve. Riko was very proud of him, he views Niner like a brother."
"Your kid sounds amazing, Kallie," Rays commented.
"I wish you could have met him," Kali'sto admitted, "I wish you could have raised him with me. I always regretted that we never had time to have a child together."
"We had the Scorchers, Kallie. They were our family. And some part of them is still out there. In you. And your kid."
"Riko said his lightsaber had a fiery orange blade…" Kali'sto realized. He had been tense when Riko showed him the damaged hilt, but now he just smiled.
As they talked, Rays walked towards the cliff, looking out at the horizon. The striking halo of golden-pink light began to fade in the night sky.
"It's beautiful," Rays sat down on a nearby boulder.
"No matter how many, or on what planet," Kali'sto joined him, "You always loved the sun."
"It'll always come up," Rays replied, "no matter how dark the night."
As the sun continued to set, Kali'sto couldn't help but wonder one last thing.
"Is this the last time I'll see you?" Kali'sto asked.
"I've been dead for a long time Kallie," Rays replied, "Your son's alive, and so are your friends. You needed time to move on without me, and that's okay. But now it's time for me to go."
Slowly and gently, Rays took Kali'sto's hands in his own, looking straight into his eyes.
"I am still alive," he recited in Mando'a, "But you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal."
A dewy tear streaking down his face, Kali'sto nodded. He both dreaded and eagerly awaited what was about to happen next.
"I love you, Rays," Kali'sto declared, smiling.
Rays smiled warmly, "I love you too. I'm so happy I got to spend my life with you, Kallie."
Bathed in the warmth of the sunset, Rays leaned in and tenderly kissed Kali'sto. Closing his eyes, Kali'sto felt a hurricane of joy, sadness, regret, anticipation, a storm of emotion raging within. But, he was grateful to feel the touch of the love of his life one last time.
Kali'sto opened his eyes. He lay atop his bunk, his legs dangling off the edge, supported by a rough cushion he had placed at the foot of the bed.
The mattress felt firm against his hand. He could feel drying tears on the aged bark of his face. He was back aboard Skysprite, fully back in the present.
He felt older, but not wearier. He felt a sense of relief, one tinged with sadness, but also with acceptance.
The old man gingerly moved to his feet. Taking care to avoid putting too much pressure on his braced leg, he grabbed his staff.
Rays. Gala. Neville. Nav. Cobalt. Splinter. Thank you all.
Kali'sto smiled as he made his way to the bridge. He had a great deal of work to do.