I do not own Star Wars in any capacity.

Enjoy chapter 5!

"Wouldn't it be easier to just lock the Inquisitor in one of the cabins?" Sabine asked.

"Given that they're Force sensitive, Kanan and Nara need to keep a close eye on him," Hera said, making some adjustments to the steering. "It's much easier for them to do that in the cargo bay."

Sabine scowled. "This is way more effort than it's worth. Not only do we have to deal with the fact that he's a beacon to the Empire, but we have to build him a bed, and feed him…?"

"Of course we do," Hera said sternly, turning in her seat to give Sabine a soft glare. "The Inquisitor might be our prisoner, but we are not going to mistreat him."

"He tried to kill Kanan!"

"And Kanan has made the decision to keep him confined. We can't just let them go, not knowing what Inquisitors are capable of. And besides… an Imperial agent like an Inquisitor might have valuable intel that we can use."

Sabine sighed exasperatedly. Before last night, she had never even heard of Inquisitors. But Kanan had, and if he thought they were dangerous… Sabine trusted his experience, shrouded in shadow as it was. If these Inquisitor guys were trained to kill Jedi, there was no telling what other horrors they were capable of. Although this Inquisitor was obviously just a trainee. He and his daiima might be able to hold their own against Sabine - which was no small feat - but then they went down easily when going up against just a fraction of the Ghost crew.

But still… "I have to make them some sort of cot? Why not just cuff him to the ring anchors?"

"First of all, our prisoner deserves at least a simple bed..." Hera said.

"So we could just cuff him to that."

"And his daiima?" Hera said pointedly. "How do you plan on confining her?"

Sabine was about to reply, but then she remembered the way the Inquisitor's daiima had transformed. Multiple times. "Okay good point…" she murmured. Although it still didn't sit right with her.

Hera leaned forward and placed a hand on Sabine's shoulder. "I understand your reservations," she said softly. "But we need to trust Kanan and Nara. They know what they're doing."

Sabine looked away. She wanted to trust them. They were certainly the resident experts on Force sensitivity. But it was also difficult when she still knew almost nothing about Kanan and Nara's past. They always kept it close to their chest…

Finally she sighed. "Alright," she whispered. "I'll get working on the cot."

Hera smiled. "Good. Everything else… we'll deal with it as it comes."

Sabine roped Chopper into helping before they got to work. They had some spare durasteel parts laying around that Chopper began welding together while Sabine got some sunshield fabric and sewed it for the top part of the frame. It was less than an hour's work all together.

But when looking at the finished product Sabine couldn't help but frown. "Definitely needs something." She pulled out her paint sprayer and began to coat the durasteel frame with black as the base. After contemplating it for a moment, she bespeckled a few shades of brown and tan over the base. Then she mixed together a new shade of yellow that was closer to the Inquisitor's eyes before spraying on diagonal lines.

She took a step back to look over her work. With a smile, she gave a satisfied nod. Much better.

After securing the fabric to the frame, she collapsed it to carry it down into the bowels of the ship. She stopped in front of the cargo bay door, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She knew Kanan wouldn't let the Inquisitor just go for her throat the moment she opened the door, but that didn't keep her from bracing herself. So with one hand on her blaster, she kicked the door. "Kanan, I've got a cot."

There was an electronic click, and the door slid open. Kanan and Nara were sitting on their normal estrade with the Inquisitor was kneeling on the other side of the bay from them, his daiima sitting stiffly by his side. With her entrance, the Inquisitor remained unmoving even as his daiima glanced nervously between her and his jemma.

Sabine only took a step in before looking over at Kanan. "So where am I putting this?"

Kanan got up from the estrade, grabbing a blanket and pillow before walking over to her. "I'll help you set it up." He raised an eyebrow at the painted durasteel struts before giving a knowing chuckle.

Sabine smiled in kind. Kanan might not comment on her work, but she could tell he appreciated it.

The Inquisitor quickly stood, swaying on his feet for just a moment before straightening so stiffly it looked painful. He regarded them with confused suspicion as he watched them put the cot down and arrange it. "W-What is this…?"

Sabine gave a soft scoff. "What? You've never seen a cot before?" She tapped her foot against the durasteel frame. "I know it's not the most professional build, but it should be good enough for the likes of you."

The Inquisitor didn't react to her words or tone. Instead, he continued to stare at the cot in utter confusion. Sabine also noticed he was still swaying unsteadily as he stood in place.

Kanan frowned, tapping his thigh. "You… do know what this is, right?" he asked.

The Inquisitor glared at him, but it was softened by his underlying uncertainty.

"It's just a portable bunk," Sabine said dryly. "Probably not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it'll do until we figure out what to do with you."

The Inquisitor's shoulders hunched up slightly at that as he directed his glare back to Sabine. "This all would be easier if you just finished me off," he growled through gritted teeth.

Sabine let out a bark of laughter, her hand drifting down to her blaster. "Oh, don't tempt me..."

"Sabine," Kanan warned. He only gave her the barest glance from the corner of his eye, but it was enough to have her backing down. She had to remind herself that despite the Inquisitor's stature, he was still very dangerous. Kanan took a few steps back, and Sabine followed suit as he waved at the cot. "Go ahead."

The Inquisitor was staring at both of them warily, and the fine tremor in his limbs was becoming more pronounced. For a moment, it seemed as though he would stubbornly stay standing there unsteadily, but he finally took a step towards the cot…

… Only to sway violently as his eyes went unfocused. It was only the quick transformation of his daiima into a large scaled beast that kept him from falling completely. His arm automatically wrapped around his ribs as he braced himself against his daiima with his other hand.

Kanan's frown deepened. "Kid, are you hurt?"

The Inquisitor's yellow eyes flashed as they zeroed in on Kanan, the fear quickly covered up with yet another glare. As soon as he was steadied, he pushed his daiima back with a harsh scowl as he stood ramrod straight again.

The action made Sabine's insides squirm uneasily. According to Kanan, a Jedi's daiima was an extension of themselves. They were two parts of a single whole. In the last year and half she's been living on the Ghost, Sabine had watched their partnership - their oneness, even when separated - in action. So to see the Inquisitor treat his daiima like just some common beast was… uncomfortable.

Kanan put a hand on Sabine's shoulder. "Go get the medkit."

She gaped at him. "So now we're giving him medical treatment too?!"

"Sabine, just do as I say."

Kanan's expression brokered no argument, so with a frustrated scowl, Sabine turned heel and marched out of the cargo bay. She couldn't believe this. This had to be the most lenient treatment of a prisoner she had ever seen.

Okay, so technically basic medical treatment was not that uncalled for, but on top of making him a bed and keeping him unrestrained, it was getting to be a bit much. Kanan wasn't stupid, so why wasn't he taking common sense precautions?

She came back to the cargo with the medkit to see the Inquisitor sitting on the cot, his daiima back in her lothcat form and sitting next to his feet. His glare was fixed on Kanan, who was standing a couple meters back now. It still had that odd undercurrent of confusion as he glanced over at Sabine, eyeing the kit in her hands.

With a tired sigh, Sabine took out the medisensor and made sure it was set to Human before scanning it over the Inquisitor's body. She ignored the way the Inquisitor's eyes widened and his body leaned back ever so slightly away from her. The sensor immediately highlighted a couple regions of the simplified human diagram in red: the muscles at the base of the Inquisitor's neck had some tearing, and there were three fractures in a line across his ribs.

"You've got whiplash and a few broken ribs," Sabine said flatly. As she spoke, the Inquisitor's lips pressed together so tightly they became a nearly invisible line. "Not surprising considering the crash, but it explains why you might be a bit dizzy. Not really much we can do except - "

The medisensor suddenly beeped with more information. Flashing 'Attention' on its screen, it began to list anomalies detected that were not life-threatening but of note to anyone who might be treating the patient. With every technical note that was added to the list, the relevant section on the diagram was highlighted in yellow.

Sabine's stomach dropped as the entire diagram began to glow. While the list was mostly jargon, a few phrases were repeated over and over again: 'Hypertrophic Scar Tissue', 'Keloid Scar Tissue', 'Atrophic Scar Tissue', 'Durasteel Support Plate', 'Durasteel Support Rod' ...

"Ner kal…" Sabine murmured in horror. "This can't be right…"

"What is it?" Kanan walked over and looked over her shoulder. He spent a moment reading through the ongoing list of old injuries the Inquisitor had suffered. Instead of expressing shock, he just closed his eyes with a soft sigh. He wasn't surprised by what he was seeing.

Feeling a bit numb, Sabine looked back at the Inquisitor. He had his eyes fixed on the ground now, his shoulders hunched up. Her eyes were drawn to the tight collar on his neck and the faint scars that were visible underneath it. She looked back at the medisensor. Only persistent and ongoing torture could have caused this extent of bodily damage.

The image of the deadly Imperial Inquisitor fell away. All she could see now is the kid who was even younger than her. A kid who had been systematically brainwashed and turned into a slave of the Empire.

Kanan put a hand on her shoulder and gently took the medisensor away. "I'll take care of this," he said softly.

The silent command was clear. With a stiff nod, Sabine turned around and walked out of the cargo bay. When the door closed behind her, she took a moment to collect herself. The extent of the damage on that kid's body was nauseating. And Kanan had expected it. Which… was likely the reason for his lenient treatment of their prisoner.

She blinked. Their prisoner… She didn't even know his name.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked back to her cabin. She needed to paint. Or make more explosives. Or anything to keep her distracted right now.

Thirteen was grateful when the Mandalorian left. She wasn't Force sensitive, but her emotions were still strong and grated against his shields. At least Kanan and Nara kept their feelings in check.

Turning the sensor off, Kanan picked up the medkit and began digging through it. "There's not much we can do about the whiplash or the broken ribs," he said. "But I can give you something to help with the pain."

The muscles in Thirteen's shoulders clenched painfully. He didn't even want to know what that meant. "I'm not in pain," he managed to murmur.

The Jedi gave a low growl, and for a moment Thirteen stopped breathing. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the Jedi weren't weak. Maybe their methods of meting out punishment were simply different.

"I don't know how your master dealt with injuries, but on this ship, we don't let each other wallow in pain for no reason." Kanan pulled out a small white package from the medkit. "These are pills. They won't do much more than dull the pain, but that's better than nothing."

Thirteen let out a soft exhale as he frowned, glancing up at the Jedi. Dull the pain?

Kanan went to the welded cabinet and pulled out a packet of water. "You don't have to take them…" Kanan slowly leaned down and set the package and the water on the floor a meter in front of Thirteen's feet before he stepped back again. "But they're here if you choose."

Thirteen's attention zeroed in on the water. He didn't know about the pills, but the sound of the packet sloshing slightly brought attention to the dryness of his throat and the gut-deep need for water. His eyes flickered between the packet and the Jedi. In the Force, he couldn't sense any wariness or anticipation, the usual tells that it was some sort of trap. Chances were the water hadn't been tampered with.

His Asset shifted into a lizard monkey and walked up to the offered items. She examined them carefully for a moment before grabbing both and scurrying back to Thirteen's side.

Without a second thought, Thirteen swiped the water, ripping it open and chugging it down with a small moan. The water was gone before he knew it, and he already felt more alive than he had just moments before.

A small chuckle had Thirteen flinching slightly. The Jedi's amusement was gently brushing up against his mind, but there wasn't any triumph or satisfaction underlying it like Thirteen was used to.

"Here…" The Jedi went digging through the cabinet again, this time pulling out several packages and a cup. "You're probably starving at this point." Kanan walked up and placed the items in the same place he had before. A quick glance confirmed to Thirteen that the packages were meal packs. "That's the refresher," he went on, pointing to the enclosed area with the manual door. "You can get as much water as you'd like from there."

A place to sleep… something to dull the pain… water… food…

Thirteen abruptly stood, knocking the cot back. The clatter had everyone flinching, and Thirteen quickly retreated so his back was up against the wall as he bared his teeth at the Jedi and his Asset. "What the kriff are you doing?!" he snarled.

Kanan's eyes were wide, and Nara had stood to stand by his side, her fur raised slightly. But the Jedi's shock quickly melted away as he gazed at Thirteen with an infuriating understanding. "This isn't a trick," he said softly, despite hitting his thigh hard with his fist. "I'm… We're not doing this to wear your defenses down or lull you into a false sense of security."

"Banthakark!" Thirteen barked. "I know your methods, Jedi! You wrap yourselves up in the ideals of peace and justice while at the same time enabling the servitude and murder of billions of sentients! I've been trained for this! I won't fall for your subversions!"

There was a long stretch where the only sound in the cargo bay was Thirteen's labored breathing. His Asset - still in lizard monkey form - had cowered from the commotion and was trembling just a couple meters from Thirteen… standing too close to the Jedi…!

"We're not Jedi."

Thirteen's attention snapped back to Kanan. The man was gazing at him intently with his turquoise and milky eyes, and Thirteen couldn't help but look away. "You expect me to believe that?" he growled.

"We were raised in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant," Kanan admitted. There was a low rumble in Nara's chest as she sat down beside him, her head lowered slightly. "But after the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire…"

His hesitation was paired with a deafening roar in the Force. Icy rage and soul-tearing pain screamed so loudly in the Force that it took Thirteen's breath away. Had he not already been pressed to the wall, he might have stumbled back from the intensity of it. But not even a moment later, it was gone. All that was left in its wake was numbing acceptance.

"No Jedi would look at us now and accept us as one of their own," Kanan said softly. "And even if they did… we would not accept it."

"His point," Nara interjected, "... is that we're not part of any order or organization anymore. Everything we do, we do because you and your daiima deserve to be treated with basic dignity and respect. Nothing more."

Thirteen's vision began to go in and out of focus. He knew it was the mixture of exhaustion and hunger, but he had to push through it. Blinking several times to force his eyes to focus properly, he also ignored the incessant tremor in his body as he pushed back from the wall and stood as straight as possible. "I-I am Eye See Thirteen. I am a… a w-weapon. I l-live… to s-serve…"

The world suddenly went grey and tilted violently. The next thing he knew, something caught his fall just before he completely lost consciousness.

For a moment, Kanan just knelt there with the boy in his arms. He had to take a moment to collect himself after that emotionally harrowing exchange.

There was no question about it now. There was absolutely no way Kanan could just leave these two to their own devices. Even if the most strategically sound move would be to finish them off - or at least abandon them on some remote moon - Thirteen was just a child. He and his daiima weren't acting out of malice or hate. They were doing what they had been programmed to do out of absolute terror.

And Kanan knew all of this… because he could sense it through their fledgling Force bond.

[Why? Why us? Why me?]

Nara looked at him. [Are you actually expecting an answer?]

Kanan sighed. [I suppose not…] He stood with a grunt, using his foot to put the cot back upright before placing the boy on to it. As he arranged the pillow under his head, Nara gently picked up Thirteen's Asset and carried her over. When she placed her down on the cot with Thirteen, the daiima immediately curled up against his chest.

It was a painful sight to see, particularly after witnessing the Inquisitor's abuse earlier. Kanan and Nara knew why he acted that way. In the eyes of the Sith and other Dark Side users, their daiima weren't equal to their jemma. They were servants, powerful tools to be wielded and forcibly molded into perfect weapons. No doubt any sign of affection or physical comfort displayed in the Inquisitorious was met with harsh punishment.

This state of unconsciousness was likely the only time they got to be together without fear. It was heartbreaking.

"I need to talk to Hera," Kanan said softly.

"Go," Nara said. "I'll look after them."

Kanan nodded, grabbing the blanket off the ground and laying it over Thirteen and his daiima. He glanced at Nara. "Just…"

"I know," she said. "Go."

Nodding again, Kanan got up with a sigh and made his way up to the cockpit. Honestly, he mostly just needed to get away for a little bit. This steady life he and Nara had carved out for themselves had been completely shattered by the last twelve hours.

What were the chances? That the Inquisitorious would just so happen to send a trainee child and their daiima on this small Outer Rim world… and that Kanan and Nara would form a bond with them.

Maybe it wasn't a Force bond. After all, they were the first Force sensitives he and Nara had come across since Vihi and her daiima. Maybe they were just being hypersensitive to their presence…

Feeling a little better by that explanation, he got up to the cockpit and sat in the co-pilot's seat. "How are the repairs?"

"Almost finished. Chopper is running a couple more diagnostics. If they come clear, we'll be ready to go." Hera swiveled in her seat towards Kanan. "How's our guest?"

"Passed out. I doubt they've slept since the parade last night." Kanan sighed and leaned back in his seat. He can't believe that was less than a day ago. When the Inquisitor had first pursued him, he had had no idea who or what Kanan was. From his perspective, he was just going after an unremarkable dissident.

But once the Inquisitor had identified him as a Jedi, the stakes had been raised for both of them. Kanan might not be a Jedi, but he was a Force sensitive. To the Empire, that was good enough. Trainee or not, Thirteen's programming would have compelled him to hunt down and kill Kanan at all costs.

"... And you?" Hera said softly. "How are you and Nara holding up?"

Kanan gave a small huff, swallowing down a growl and relishing the writhing ball of anxiety in his chest. "I think Nara has practically imprinted herself on his daiima. Who doesn't seem to speak. And who doesn't have a name…"

Hera's eyes slanting in sympathy. "Is that normal for Inquisitors?"

Kanan sighed, his heart heavy. "I wouldn't be surprised. Thirteen calls daiima 'Assets'."

"His name is Thirteen?"

"Inquisitors have numerical designations," Kanan said flatly, his chest tightening painfully. He knew it had been a vain hope, but he had genuinely thought that he could avoid the darkness of his past forever. After ten years… it didn't seem like too much of a stretch. Of course, now that had all crashed down around them.

He bent over and rubbed his face as he let out a shuddered breath. He had to stop thinking about this or he was going to spiral. Except he couldn't. Because he literally had an Inquisitor in this cargo bay being guarded by his own daiima. Familiar dark tension was creeping up his back.

"Kanan…"

"He's a child." His chest began to burn with every breath. "They tortured him, brainwashed him to the point where he abuses his own daiima…!"

There was warm leather against his trembling hands. He looked up to see Hera's face inches from his own. It was only when he heard her soft breathing that he could hear how fast his own was. Closing his eyes, he blew out as much air as he could before finally inhaling again.

She reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Kanan mumbled. "I haven't had to think about Inquisitors for so long. The last time I encountered one…" He gave a dry chuckle, tracing a finger over the scar on his face. What a twisted week it had been.

Hera bit her lip. "I might not know everything…" she whispered, "... but we have to move forward. And so we need to figure out some way to help that boy."

There was a beep over the internal comm before Chopper's voice confirmed that the diagnostics were finished.

With a soft sigh, Hera leaned up and gave him a quick kiss before returning to the pilot's seat. "First thing we need to do is get out of the system before his so-called master gets here. Then we need to figure out how to deactivate the locator beacon."

"Then what?" Kanan asked. For all he knew, Thirteen had been with the Inquisitorious his entire life. He couldn't possibly undo all of that damage. The kid and his daiima were too far gone.

He could practically feel Nara growling in his head. [No… they're not.]

Before Kanan could retort, Hera began to power up the Ghost. "Then… I'm going to contact Fulcrum," Hera said solemnly. "One way or another, we'll figure this out."

Fulcrum. Hera's anonymous informant. A person none of them personally knew, but who pointed them towards lucrative jobs that not only disrupted Imperial operations but often helped those who needed it most. A person who likely had more than enough resources to deal with an Inquisitor trainee. At least more than they did.

The thought of Thirteen and his daiima being taken off their hands had the tension slowly drain from Kanan. His shoulders sagged and he sighed. "Yeah… that sounds like a plan."

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