The Force's Shepherds

by TheBobcat18

Obi Wan thought he was dead. The Empire had found him and baby Luke as they sped away from Polis Massa. Yet here he is now, alive, breathing, and force knows where. Desperate to find the baby boy, he finds help in some of the unlikeliest of people. All the while, a calamity brews on this strange planet that he now calls home.

126. Fulcrum

The Force's Shepherds

Chapter 126

Fulcrum

Alderaan had to be one of the most peaceful places Mace Windu had ever been to, let alone lived on. Even during the height of the Republic, when the Jedi Order was at its zenith and the Sith were nothing more than ghost stories spoken in hushed whispers among Padawan Learners, Coruscant never possessed this much serenity and tranquility. The peacefulness permeated the entire planet. Washing over it like a gentle stream upon smooth stones. The aura lingered in the Royal Palace of Alderaan, where Bail Organa did everything in his power to maintain the facade of peace and cooperation, especially when it came to dealing with the empire.

Oh how the waters churn beneath the surface. Mace thought.

He had himself cordoned off in the small room Prince Organa gifted him. Only ever leaving to have his meals or to meet personally with the busy Prince. Though, those meetings did not occur often. Bail Organa regularly had to deal with multiple calls with the Imperial Senate and other Imperial officials in his private study. On top of that, he had to coordinate and bankroll a slowly budding resistance through his various agents throughout the galaxy. An even more tense task than speaking to politicians and bureaucrats, something the man was always skilled at. At any moment, something terrible could happen that would out the Alderaan royal as a traitor. Whether that be a mole, a traitor within the rebellion, or someone just eavesdropping on his discussions with his top agent, Fulcrum. Every conversation was a risk, and to Bail's credit, he was exceptionally careful. Only trusting people that he knew he could trust. Those people included Mace, and Captain Rex.

But not Solo or those kids. For good reason.

Mace did not dislike them. But he was also not interested in getting close to any of them. They were mere children caught up in something they could not understand. He did not feel like holding hands through the chaos and tyranny of the Empire. That being said, he did notice some distinct characteristics that allowed him to engage them more effectively.

Kjelle had a bit of a naive, simplistic view of the world. For her, strength mattered above all else, which led her to constantly train her body in order to be the best warrior. He knew Jedi like that in the old Order. Hell, he was like that to an extent in his younger years, before he truly understood the wisdom of the elder Masters like Yoda and Oppo Rancisis. Her surprising physical strength came from that excessive training, and likely from her heavy armor (even though it appeared to be useless against blasters).

Then there is her ancient weapon of choice. He thought with a shake of his head as he rose from his mattress and decided to take a seat at the center of his small room. His legs folded and he rested his hands on his knees. Now would be a good time for meditation.

Nah… that was the next one. A diminutive little girl with power that boggled his mind. He knew of changelings, beings who could readily change their physical appearances. But Manaketes? Beings who could literally transform their bodies into a powerful beast with what amounted to magic? Even in the strangest of worlds, with creatures long thought to be forgotten or myth, such a thing was unheard of. She drew the most of his curiosity, for she also knew of someone named Ben Kenobi. Someone Mace suspected was actually Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi. On top of that, she knew about the Force. Apparently, she had a novice's grasp on it, which intrigued him.

I may speak with her some more. He thought, But later.

Yarne, the timid one. The strange, hybrid creature that acted as a retainer of sorts for Bail's daughter, Leia. Well, retainer was probably a strong description, and was something the Taguel did not appear to be. He was more like a nervous babysitter and playmate. A curiosity to occupy Princess Leia's time and direct her boundless energy in a positive direction. Somehow, he knew Nah and Kjelle, which made Mace believe they all either grew up together, have run into each other before, or even came from the same planet entirely.

The galaxy would have to be a very small place for that to happen.

Han Solo and Chewbacca; they seemed like typical small time criminals. Nothing too important. Although, it was unusual to see a Wookie in such enterprises. They normally frowned on such activities.

The Empire can make even the most stoic and strong of species desperate enough to resort to crime.

Hondo… well… the less said about that old pirate the better. Mace was familiar with him. The crazy fool captured Count Dooku, Obi Wan Kenobi, and… and the Traitor, at one point during the Clone Wars. All part of a mad scheme to extort the most amount of credits out of the Republic or Confederacy as possible. It didn't work in the end. The entire plan blew up spectacularly in the Wee'quay's face. The fact that he was even alive now surprised Mace, but it also spoke to how slippery the pirate could be. He appeared to be a bumbling buffoon, but a buffoon could not successfully capture two Jedi and a Sith Lord. He had cunning that he carefully hid until he absolutely needed it, which made him dangerous. Someone Mace absolutely had to keep an eye on.

I'm surprised he did not recognize me. Mace furrowed his brow as his dark eyes remained open, staring at the wall across from him, Unless he did, and he's just keeping that information close to the chest.

Yes, he would have to keep a very close eye on the old Pirate.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Before he could slip into the force, he felt a chime come from the nightstand beside his bed. He cracked an eye open and glanced over at the lone hologram communicator resting on top of the nightstand. A green light blinked on the side of the round disk.

He quickly got to his feet and strode over. Using the force, he made sure no one was approaching his room and that no one was listening in, before he picked up the disc and tapped the button the side. A hooded figure, face hidden in deep shadow, appeared.

"Fulcrum..." Mace grumbled.

"Master..." The woman on the other end replied, not using a voice disguiser. She got rid of it as soon as she realized who he was on their first call. Her voice still sounded tense. As if it was both awkward and nerve wracking for her to speak with him. Not surprising given how they parted last time they met.

Did he regret what happened? He regretted a lot of things. But there was nothing he could do to change the past. All he could do was claim vengeance upon the foul actors who caused the suffering his fellow Jedi experienced. Fulcrum just so happened to be one of the lucky ones that was out of the Order before it fell. Making her not a high priority target of the Clone Army or the Empire.

"Is everything alright?" Mace asked, taking a seat on his bed once again while keeping the hologram disc at arms length.

"Fine, for now. I'm on Kuat."

Mace furrowed his scarred brow, "Why are you there?"

"Why do you think?"

Mace frowned, "Any large purchases there will draw attention, Fulcrum."

"I don't plan on making large purchases. Just small ones. A ship here, a ship there. Plans and part shipments to our newest secret base, via a different address of course. The mechanics can figure out what to do with them at that point."

"You don't have a contact to do that for you?" He asked, "It's a bit risky for you to go personally to that place. The Empire has a large presence there."

"You're telling me." Fulcrum replied, keeping her voice hushed as she ducked into an alleyway, "The shipyards in orbit are massive. I don't think I've seen this many Star Destroyers being built since I was on Kamino. Lots of stormtroopers around here to keep an eye on things."

Mace arched an eyebrow, "The Empire is still building up that significantly?"

"I'd say they've accelerated their buildup. Especially in the wake of the failed insurrection on Naboo."

Mace bit his tongue when she mentioned that. She still did not know that he was the Jedi at the center of that doomed rebellion. Still did not know that the entire purpose of that rebellion was not to inspire hope, or defiance, but to exact revenge against the Sith Lord that wiped out the Jedi Order. A Sith Lord that has gone disturbingly quiet as of late. His violent activity was replaced by the enigmatic, yet loud, Lady Ragana.

"Just be careful about it. Don't stick those montrals where you can't get them out of."

That elicited a quiet laugh from Fulcrum, "You act like I haven't been doing this for half a decade now, Master. I've gotten pretty good at avoiding Imperial eyes."

"It's not imperial eyes I'm worried about. Most of those officers and soldiers are useless." Mace snorted, "It's the other ones they employ."

He saw a frown crease beneath the deep, gray hood, "If you think an Inquisitor can harm me-"

"There's a new one prowling the galaxy. I've already run into her once before. Codename: Ragana."

Fulcrum's frown deepened, "They like to use their brother and sister numbers. I've never heard of one abandoning that."

"She's delusional, but dangerous." Mace remarked, "Claims to be an apprentice of the Emperor's."

Fulcrum stiffened, "How likely is that? I thought the one called Vader-"

"I thought so too but…" Mace thought carefully about his next few words. His mental walls remained tall and strong, preventing Fulcrum from digging through his thoughts. It was nothing personal, he just did not want anyone crawling around his mind. He was certain she was doing the same thing, "She claimed it when I encountered her. Before I could destroy her, Sidious showed up and stopped me."

A heavy silence lingered in the air.

"He showed up personally?" Fulcrum asked, seeking either clarification or confirmation.

Mace sighed and nodded, "He saved her. Which gives credence to her claim. Sidious would not do that for a mere inquisitor."

"No, he wouldn't." Fulcrum nodded in agreement, "This warrants some investigation. I'll have my contacts look into it. Whatever information I find, I'll relay to you."

Mace wanted to snort at that. Any information she would relay to him. What that meant was any information she deemed necessary for him, she would relay to him. Most of the important stuff went directly to the Rebellion's top brass, Bail Organa being one of them. It made sense. Mace was a newcomer to the rebellion. A newcomer Fulcrum did not fully trust. Then again, after everything that has happened, it would be wise for her to not trust anyone, even him.

"Is there anything else you need, Fulcrum?" Mace sighed, rubbing the top of his head, fingers brushing over faint, spider webbing scars from a terrible old wound, "I doubt you wanted to call just to make small talk."

Fulcrum shook her head, "Not wrong there, I just wanted to give you my location. Bail knows where I'm at as well."

Mace furrowed his brow, "You've never bothered to do that before is-"

"I'm concerned someone is tracking me. I haven't seen anything as of yet, but…" Fulcrum glanced over her shoulder, "I've got a bad feeling."

"Bad feelings should be carefully considered, especially in times like these." Mace nodded, "Contact me if you need assistance."

"You're my last resort, Master." Fulcrum replied quickly, "The last thing we need is for you to resurface and draw attention to Bail. Everything could be undone if that happens."

"Still, do not hesitate to seek help." Mace advised.

"Noted, Master." She glanced over her shoulder again, "I think it's time I went somewhere crowded. I could use a drink anyways."

She noticed Mace's eyes narrow, causing a lighthearted chuckle to come from the rebel agent hidden beneath the gray hood.

"Relax Master, I'm not Quinlan Vos."

"Yet." Mace grumbled. A long sigh left his lips while she chuckled again, "May the force be with you."

"You as well."

Fulcrum's image flickered then faded away. As the blue glow of the hologram disappeared, Mace uttered a weary sigh.

This had to be the worst feeling in the world. Knowing that he, a powerful Jedi Master, former member of the Jedi High Council, was basically imprisoned within a small section of the Alderaan royal palace, unable to assist in anyway. Meanwhile, a former Jedi Padawan that he helped drive out of the Jedi Order, that he was uncertain of her ability to perform this kind of covert work, worked for the rebellion from the shadows. Proactively moving ahead with plans carefully laid out by the upper brass, of which Mace only knew Bail Organa.

It made him feel useless. A feeling he despised. Useless was how he felt when Sidious defeated him the first time. Useless was how he felt when he lay in a clinic in the lower levels of Coruscant, body encased in bacta patches and bandages while all of his fellow Jedi were slaughtered throughout the galaxy. He could still feel the lingering pain in the force from all of their sudden deaths. A void rested in the force, empty due to the lack of any light. The Dark Side swallowed the galaxy whole with the Order's destruction. Hope seemed faint, if not dead entirely.

All that remained was justice, and vengeance. A chance to set things right. To force those who caused the terrible suffering he and others in the galaxy experienced to pay the price for their horrible deeds.

If Ragana shows her face again, I will crush her. He thought as the image of those newly knighted Padawans she killed filled his mind, When Vader appears again, I will destroy him. Anger burned hot within him as he thought about the Jedi Traitor, And when I face Sidious again, I will not lose. Not a third time.

"Well then..."

Mace's dark eyes flicked to the door. He hadn't realized it hissed open.

Kjelle leaned against the doorframe, wearing a different outfit than the one she wore on the Falcon. This time, she wore a black t shirt that hugged her frame tight, good for her training. Black pants, a bit looser around her legs, covered her lower half, held up by a black belt and blaster holster. Although, the holster lacked a blaster. Probably because Prince Organa did not want someone not fully trained in using one to carry one openly in the palace. Not with an energetic toddler bouncing around all over the place.

"You look… entertained?" Kjelle quirked an eyebrow as she crossed her arms, "Do you Jedi types always enjoy staring at walls?"

Mace simply glared back. Kjelle snorted.

"You are far from the most intimidating thing I've stared down, bud. So don't try that." She pushed her body off of the doorframe, "You and I need to have a pretty blunt chat."

"Not interested in talking." Mace grunted back, kicking his legs up onto his bed and lying down, staring up at the ceiling.

"Don't care." Kjelle made sure the door shut behind her, "What do you know about Morgan?"

"Who?" Mace muttered, closing his eyes.

Kjelle hissed, "Ah, crap, right. You don't know that name. Er… the one chasing us not long ago. She called herself Ragana."

Mace's eyes flicked open. Immediately, he reached out with the force, trying to sense Kjelle's intentions. When he brushed against her mind, he encountered something that surprised him. A great deal of concern filled her. Concern, sadness, all wrapped in a hardened shell of superficial strength. He was tempted to dig further, but decided against it. If he looked any deeper, she would notice.

"What do you know about her?" Kjelle asked again, voice blunt, demanding an answer.

"What do you know about her?" Mace replied in kind, turning his gaze towards her.

Kjelle frowned. She strode across the room to a small, metal stool situated near Mace's closet. She grabbed it, picking it up with ease in one hand, and hauled it over to the doorway. Once she set it back down, she sat down on it and tilted back, balancing on the stool's back legs while her back rested against the wall.

"You first." She remarked, folding her hands in her lap.

Mace scowled back, "I don't know anything about her, other than she claims to be the apprentice of Darth Sidious."

"Who?"

Mace now looked puzzled, "How do you not know the Emperor?"

"The Emperor is named Sidious?" Kjelle snorted, "That's sure to win people over."

"The public doesn't know that name. They know him as Palpatine."

"That's not much better." Kjelle replied, unimpressed, "Next question: why was she after you?"

Mace kept his expression guarded, "Why would she be after me?"

"Because before you came along, we didn't have problems with any Empire." Kjelle growled, "So it's safe to assume that the reason the Empire, and Morgan, are hunting us is because of you. Judging by how both Prince Organa and Captain Rex reacted to you, I'd say it's safe to assume you are an old friend of theirs, and that you are a wanted man. I overheard some interesting conversations between both you and the Prince in the halls."

That got Mace to sit up, "How could you-"

"A special talent from my Pa. Back home, they called him the Unseen." Kjelle replied, "From what I've gathered on you, your name is Mace Windu. You were a member of the Jedi Order. Of course, around here, that's pretty common knowledge for those in the know. So you're the second Jedi I've met; well technically third-"

"Hold on." Mace raised a hand, "Second? Third?"

Kjelle nodded, "Master Kenobi and Lucina."

Mace's eyes slowly widened, "Kenobi's alive?"

He immediately sensed a wave of sadness wash over Kjelle, "Yeah well…" Her thumbs twisted in her lap, then untwisted, "Not anymore. Grima got him, just like all the other parents." Kjelle uttered a quiet laugh, "Although, he didn't go down without a fight. Damn Jedi Bastard faced that lizard down face to face. Gotta give him credit for that. He may have been a bit of an asshole, but gods did he have balls of brass."

Mace's entire body sank, "I see."

I can't get my hopes up like that. He thought, The truth is always disappointing.

"Don't look so down, he's still alive."

He did a double take, "I'm sorry? You just said he's dead."

Kjelle shrugged, "In the future, yeah. In the present… or at least I hope this is the present, he should be alive. Although, given where me, Nah, Yarne, and Morgan have wound up, it wouldn't surprise me if the timeline got screwed up too."

Mace drew in a deep breath, "So, your friend was telling the truth before."

Nah previously told Mace about how she and Kjelle arrived where they were via a strange ritual designed by the "god" of their world in case of an apocalypse. He doubted she was telling him the truth. Even with all of the impossible, borderline insane things he had seen in his time with the Jedi Order, time travel was impossible. Even the Force could not achieve such a thing. The closest to time travel any force adept achieved were particularly vivid visions of the future, nothing more. Even then, that's not true time travel. The future is always uncertain.

"Well yeah," Kjelle remarked, "Nah's a lot of things, but a liar?" She shook her head, "Nah's no liar. A bit stiff, but not a liar."

Mace nodded, "So, Master Kenobi is alive?"

Kjelle nodded.

"Where is he then?"

"Back home." Kjelle readily answered, "Wherever the hell home is. I didn't know anything like this," She gestured around her, "existed before. So I doubt I'd know where home is in relation to Alderaan."

Mace bowed his head briefly.

Great. He thought, I finally learn about another powerful Jedi's survival, and they are still lost to me. In exile on an unknown planet. He grit his teeth. I did not take Kenobi for someone to run from the fight.

"You don't look very happy about it." Kjelle said as she stretched her right arm across her body.

Mace shook his head, "I'm puzzled. If Kenobi is alive, why did he not try to contact any other Jedi? Why is he exiling himself on some unknown planet when he could be here." He pointed down at the ground, "Helping us take the fight to the Empire."

Kjelle shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. I know nothing about the guy. Just that he's powerful, he's Lucina's master, Noire's dad-"

Mace's eyes widened, "Hold-" He coughed and raised a hand, "Hold on. Kenobi, a father?"

Kjelle chuckled, "Yeah, it was pretty unbelievable when my Ma learned about it too. She never thought a guy like him could ever be a good Pa to anyone. And well… I mean, he fought hard to make sure we all lived. But he never really was a Dad to Noire. Kinda gave her the cold shoulder most of the time. Hell, he refused to even teach her anything about those strange powers they both got."

Now Mace reeled. Not only was Nah's explanation of her and her friend's origins apparently true, he did not detect any lie coming from her or Kjelle, but Obi Wan Kenobi was alive and apparently had a child at some point in the future. A weary, overwhelmed sigh rushed from his lungs. His hands reached up and wiped at his eyes before running down his face and falling into his lap.

"So, yeah. We can chat about Master Ben later. I'm sure Nah wants to be awake for that fun conversation." Kjelle muttered, "I don't want her awake for our talk about Morgan. And I sure as shit don't want Yarne overhearing it."

Mace furrowed his brow, "They're your friends, why wouldn't you-"

"Nah's the youngest of us. She's also the most distant. Never really got close to any of us, but she looked up to Morgan. They were book buddies." Kjelle explained, "As for Yarne, have you seen him? He shakes when a leaf rustles nearby. Morgan treated him like she treated all her friends: playfully, but a bit too playfully."

"She tormented him." Mace surmised.

Kjelle frowned, "That's a rough way of putting it. Morgan was always a prankster. Yarne was the easy target. She always made sure not to hurt him or scar the poor guy, if that's what you're wondering. Hell, more than once she saved his life on the battlefield. S'not like they didn't like each other or nothing." She sniffed and wiped at her nose, "Gah, must be springtime outside. Pollen and dust is getting to me."

"I'm sure there is a remedy for that." Mace replied, "You should go get it."

Kjelle's weight shifted as she moved to rise from the stool. She froze just as her butt was about to lift off the seat. A deep scowl came over her.

"Oh no!" She wagged a finger at Mace, "No you don't. You ain't dodging my question that easily." She flopped back down on the stool and crossed her legs out in front of her at the ankles, hands shoved in her pants pocket, "What's the deal with Morgan right now? Why's she acting like this? She was never so-"

"Evil."

Kjelle's face darkened, "Say that again, and I don't care what magic powers you have, I'll beat you within an inch of your life."

Mace remained unfazed, "That kind of anger will only get you killed. Especially if you direct it at me." Kjelle folded her arms as Mace's gaze failed to waver, "And your friend is now evil. Twisted by the Dark Side of the Force. The Morgan you knew is dead."

He sensed disbelief within Kjelle. Confusion, sadness, and frustration mingled with that disbelief. He was impressed though by the strength of the indifferent mask on her face. Sure, twinges of frustration appeared. A furrowing of her brow, a slight frown in her lips, her generally closed off position as she sat down, arms folded. But if he did not have the force, he would have believed this news hardly impacted her.

"You're wrong." Kjelle muttered, "Morgan-"

"Is consumed by Ragana. Sidious has turned her, twisted her, and is now using her." Mace said plainly. He had a feeling Kjelle did not appreciate people dancing around difficult topics. She seemed like the kind of girl that tackled problems head on. So she would at least appreciate the blunt truth, rather than a sugar coated one. "Your friend is gone, Kjelle. She is the enemy now. It'd be a good idea for you to get used to that fact."

Kjelle worked her jaw back and forth, the mask cracking a bit to show the pain she felt. She swallowed hard, eyes darting down to her lap as she wrung her hands.

"Naga…" She breathed, bowing her head and exhaling, "This has all gone so wrong." She uttered a shaky breath, "First we wind up in the wrong place, then Morgan is…" She bit her tongue, a shuddering gasp slipping from her lips again, "Now Nah is still unconscious, I mean." She glanced up at Mace, some tears in her eyes, "The hell am I supposed to do?"

Mace's face remained like stone. Why would she seek advice from him? Kjelle hardly knew him. The only reason they were in the same room was because they all wound up on Alderaan at the same time thanks to an odd set of coincidences. Personally, Mace would much rather the group he came here with leave him alone. He wanted his space. Wanted to meditate and figure out how to topple the Empire on his own.

He was in no position to give any wisdom. What could he give Kjelle? She was a time traveling child from an unknown planet suffering from unknown devastation, thrust into a galaxy she had no idea existed. And now, one of her close friends was her enemy. There's not much anyone could say about such circumstances.

Kjelle gulped and got to her feet.

"Um…" She raked a hand through her brown hair and took a deep breath, trying her best to reset the mask, "I'm going to go check on Nah. See if she's woken up yet. Um…" She shook her head and moved to leave.

"Kjelle." Mace spoke up.

"What?" Kjelle croaked as the door hissed open in front of her.

"How many of you are there?" He asked.

Kjelle was quiet for a moment, "Fifteen of us; counting me, Nah, Yarne, and Morgan."

"You don't know where the rest are?" He asked.

Kjelle shook her head.

That Mace could somewhat understand. Once Order 66 occurred and the Empire rose from the ashes of the Republic, what remained of the Jedi Order scattered. He spent a good two years trying to find survivors, with each day during his search turning more and more hopeless. The Jedi Council had been utterly wiped out. Even Master Yoda had been supposedly captured. Although the rumors surrounding his fate were muddled. The few Jedi that remained were hidden, and Mace did want to find them, for a time.

"Don't give up yet." He advised Kjelle, "The galaxy is a smaller place than you think."

Kjelle snorted at that, "Used to think Ylisstol was a big place. One city, the biggest place in the world. Took an entire day, from sunup to sun down, to walk around the walls. I'd play games of hide and seek with my friends when we were little, and it'd be impossible to find some of them in that place. Just too damn big." She rested her hand against the doorframe, "Now I need to find them in a galaxy? And I can't go out and actively search because I'm an outlaw for some reason?" She shook her head, "Giving up would be the easy thing at this point."

Mace nodded, "It would be. But something tells me you don't like doing things the easy way."

"Har!" She guffawed, "Damn right, I don't. Ma always said I learned best the hard way. That ain't going to change. This is just…" Her bravado faded a little bit, "Just the latest big challenge." She grimaced and took a deep breath, "Um… the- er- Prince invited me, Han, and the others for dinner tonight. Sure he'll invite ya too. You're not bad to talk to, ya know. Wouldn't mind seeing ya there."

She tapped the doorframe once with her palm, sighed under her breath, then left his room, the door quietly hissing shut behind her.

Mace leaned back on his bed. Him, easy to talk to? He knew more than one Jedi that would have laughed at such a notion. He shook his head, one hand rubbed his chin.

Kenobi is alive. He thought, And he's with Kjelle's friend Lucina, probably.

His eyes widened. The faster Kjelle found her friends, the faster he would find Master Kenobi. The image of Mace Windu was forever tarnished. He would never be able to actively lead the budding rebellion the way he could have during his prime, before the Empire sullied his name and destroyed his hope. But Obi Wan could. He was always a skilled politician, even if he disliked such activities. There were pockets of the galaxy that still viewed him in a favorable light thanks to his heroism and association with… with the Traitor, during the Clone Wars. If there was one name that could make the Rebellion grow from small time resistance, to an emerging threat against the Empire, it would be him.

He reached for his hologram communicator and tapped the button.

Pick up. He thought.

The hologram flickered, and Fulcrum appeared, still shrouded in her hood.

"Yes, Master? I thought we were finished with our-"

"I have a mission for you, Tano." Mace cut her off.

Fulcurm hissed low, "Not so loud! Do you want to give me away!? I'm still on Kuat you know." She took a deep breath and ducked into an alcove along a broad street. He could see drops of rain pelting against her hood and cloak as she talked to him, "Whatever you need me doing, it's going to take a backseat to me getting these parts."

"Understood but… keep your eye out for any strange people."

Fulcrum snorted, "Strange people? Have you seen the galaxy at all, Master?"

Mace frowned, "You have Skywalker's tongue."

"And I use it with pride." She remarked as a neon light flickered in her holographic image, "What do you mean by strange people, Master? You wouldn't contact me and tell me this unless it was actually important."

"People who don't look like they belong running around the galaxy." Mace clarified, "I've made a few… strange acquaintances here on Alderaan. They're friendly, and they know Master Kenobi."

He saw her eyes widen beneath her hood, "Master Kenobi…" She breathed, "He's-"

"They claim he is alive and with a friend of theirs named Lucina. They were scattered due to bad circumstances. But find them all-"

"And we find-" Fulcrum's voice trailed off as she reeled from the news, "Do you have any idea how much he could help the rebellion. Force, I thought he was dead. But if he is really alive-"

"I was thinking along the same lines." Mace nodded, "There are fifteen total, three are already with me. I don't know their names, I forgot to ask. But when I learn their names, I'll relay them to you. However, if you keep your eyes open, I'm sure you'll pick them out of a crowd."

"Why do you say that?" Fulcrum asked as she turned into a building, escaping the rain. Mace could hear loud chatter and music inside of the building she entered, "Do they have three heads or something?"

"They're human, but… they like their archaic weapons." Mace answered.

"Archaic?" Fulcrum asked as she lingered in the doorway of the building she entered, "Like, old blasters, pikes, Nightsister type stuff?"

"Try steel swords, spears, and armor." Mace answered.

"Well then, that would make them easy to spot. Alright, Master, I'll see what I can do." She turned her head, "No better place to start keeping an eye out than a Cantina."

"Tano…"

"I'll drink responsibly, don't worry. I'm still on a mission. Fulcrum out."

"Tano, wait!" Mace cursed when the hologram ended. He tossed the disc to the side and huffed, "Willful as ever."

---

Fulcrum could not shake the feeling that someone was watching her. The montrals on her head twitched as she took a deep breath of the musty cantina air. Every cantina seemed to smell the same on working class worlds like Kuat; dusty, dingy, smoky. The stench of strong alcohol and sweaty bodies mingled with the smoke filled air, making the air even more unpleasant to the smell. At this point though, she had been to enough rodent infested, stagnant air, scum infested hives for two lifetimes, let alone one. Being an underground agent for a slowly building Rebellion was dirty work, and it required mingling with the dregs of society in order to gather intel easily.

Kuat was a perfect world for this sort of work. The Empire used the massive shipyards just beyond the atmosphere to produce nearly all of their naval ships. From massive Star Destroyers, to the smallest of those new fighters they were producing, TIE fighters if she recalled correctly. Oh what she would give to somehow get her hands on those plans. Sadly, they were too high profile for her to possibly snatch, and espionage was not the reason for her being on this world.

The small rebel base that had just been established on the fourth moon of Yavin required ships to supply their remote corner of space. She needed to purchase them and their parts in small increments. Small enough orders to make people think some rich Togruta wanted to build a collection, but not enough to raise any red flags. Suspicions will always be high when a lone, mysterious woman makes ship purchases, but those suspicions were easily quelled with enough credits and a slight suggestion through the Force. However, if she ordered more than one or two fighters at any given time, Imperial Officers with much more authority will take notice. At that point, she would have to bail and hope that they did not trace the source of the funds. That was a risk she could not afford to take.

What was even riskier than that, was remaining on one world for too long. The Togruta liked to linger on one planet for at most three days, maybe four if business took longer than normal. Today was day seven on Kuat.

The reason? The Imperial Officer in charge of overlooking ship orders was taking his sweet ass time approving her order of two brand new EE-730 transports. Small ships that could hold six crew and passengers. Mostly meant for cargo runs, which would greatly benefit the budding rebellion at this point. Right now, they needed to build up their bases, not instigate any fights.

Every day she stayed on one planet was another day something bad could happen that would draw attention to her, and by extension, the rebellion. She knew her identity, Fulcrum, was already being circulated among Imperial channels. During the early days, before she really figured out how to be a shadow operative, she was a bit too active, a bit too clumsy. Thankfully, none of those reports mentioned her true name, or what she looked like. But it would take just one Bounty Hunter tenacious enough to track her down to upend all of her meticulous work. Right now, she feared one may have done just that.

That was why she decided to divert her route tonight. Normally, she would leave the Shipyard's acquisitions office and immediately go back to her room at a local inn. The less she was out and about, the less she would be noticed. Tonight, she could not do that. Not with someone tracking her. A bounty hunter was less likely to try and get into a violent confrontation when a large crowd was nearby, especially if that bounty hunter was any good. They would know that a fight in a large crowd involved too many uncontrollable variables, which makes it far easier for her to escape than most bounty hunters are comfortable with. So, she walked from the acquisitions office, to the nearby cantina. After the headaches the Imperial bureaucracy was giving her, she could use a stiff drink.

As she stepped down onto the Cantina's main floor, she took a quick survey of the room. Already a crowded night. Second shift just finished up on the drive yards. Most of the patrons were human, since the Empire only trusted humans to work on their military craft. She cursed under her breath at that observation. Less aliens like her meant she would be easier to pick out of a crowd, even with her hood drawn. She would just have to be extra careful.

Handle this like Master Kenobi, not like Anakin. She thought with a slight, wistful smile.

Master Kenobi… that was a name she had not heard in a long time. Five years to be exact. One moment, he was alive, fighting General Grievous and his droid armies on Utapau. The next she heard he had been killed by his Clones on that same planet. Obliterated by a cannon blast as he charged up one of the sinkhole walls. Since there was no bounty contract on him, Fulcrum assumed it to be true. After all, still living Jedi, and those who were known associates of Jedi, had rather high prices on their heads.

Last I checked mine was at about four hundred thousand. She thought, a light chuckle slipping from her lips as she brushed past a group of four human workers in order to take a seat at the Cantina's main bar.

The bar tender approached her, and she quietly ordered a simple human whiskey. Something that would not completely drown out her senses and that she could purge quickly from her system if needed. This was a bar, so she had to drink something. If she ordered water, others would notice, and not in a good way. If she was right about someone tracking her, then she needed to blend in as best as she could.

The bartender placed a glass of whisky in front of her. Her slim, orange colored hand reached out and plucked the glass. Fulcrum nodded her thanks then took a small sip of the amber liquid, wincing as the alcohol burned against her tongue.

Master Kenobi…

Hope sparked in her heart as she thought of the legendary name. Master Windu insisted he was alive, and with a strange group of people who liked their ancient style weapons. Despite the hope that flickered in her heart, she found it difficult to believe. All hope for the Jedi died when it was publicly announced that Master Yoda had been captured. Of course, he escaped. But the fact that he had not surfaced since made her thoughts on the survival of any Jedi drearier.

Master Windu lived. She reminded herself as she took another sip of her whisky. She swirled the amber liquid in her glass as her blue eyes remained focused on the white lights lining the simple bar counter. Everyone was certain he died trying to "assassinate" Palpatine.

She doubted that story. It had to be propaganda from the Sith. Why would the Jedi attempt to assassinate anyone? More likely, Mace Windu and a group of Jedi were going to confront Palpatine about his promise to abdicate power once the war was over. With Master Kenobi cornering Grievous, and likely killing him (although all reports said a team of Clones ended the droid general's life), Palpatine's war powers would end and he would have to leave office. She knew the Jedi secretly worried he would not abdicate, so that was probably the reason Windu went to see the then Chancellor Palpatine.

It all ended in the Jedi's destruction, and Mace's "death". Yet, there he was just a few moments ago, talking to her on the other side of a hologram from Alderaan. He looked rough to say the least. Long, spiderweb scars ran all over his dark face. There were more lines on his face and a heavier set to his brow. His eyes held an anger in them she never noticed before. But she could not blame him for that. When the Jedi Order fell, she had been angry too. Her anger nearly consumed her when she learned of Anakin's death at the Jedi Temple. That was the one Jedi death even Palpatine mourned, and the rest of the galaxy mourned the Jedi Hero, Anakin Skywalker.

At least his name hasn't been dragged through the mud. She thought glumly.

She raised her gaze slightly as two new patrons entered the bar. A couple more shipyard workers. Their faces caked in black grease and smoke. Another long day of work done. They paid her no mind as they took seats further down the bar. As Fulcrum's eyes followed, she spotted someone sitting in a far corner booth, hidden partially by the high, grey seats.

There's something you don't see everyday. She thought as her index finger tapped her glass of whiskey.

She stared at a young man with long rose colored hair slicked back tight over his head. He appeared to be rather average in height and build, a bit on the thin side actually. He looked like he could use a hearty meal or two. He wore strange armor, the likes of which Fulcrum had only heard in stories. The armor was black in color; made of what looked to be heavy metal plates. The strangest part of his outfit though was the black mask that covered his eyes and the top of his nose. It didn't cover his mouth at all.

Maybe he likes that better? She thought, I've worn plenty of masks that made me feel a bit claustrophobic.

She glanced over at him again and watched as one of his hands reached for a half empty bottle of red wine at the center of the table. Without skipping a beat, he placed the bottle to his lips and drank a large gulp before gently setting it back down in front of him. As he set it down, his other hand tapped his hip, where Ahsoka saw-

Is that an ax?

Not an ax with a vibroblade, but a legitimate ax. The kind that primitive civilizations used to chop down trees and stuff.

She sucked in a breath. Master Kenobi traveled with a group of young humans wearing archaic metal armor and wielding strange, archaic weapons such as axes, lances, and swords.

And there's no such thing as luck. She thought as she downed the last drops of her whiskey.

She cautiously glanced around again, making sure no one was really paying attention to her, before she stood up and made her way over to the corner booth where the young man sat. He did not flinch as she approached, did not turn his head when she cleared her throat next to him, did not even react when she decided to forget any formalities and just take a seat across from him. The only reaction she managed to get, was a slight narrowing of his eyes behind that black mask.

"Hello there." Fulcrum said, her voice low. Just loud enough for the young human to hear over the cantina's music and the loud cacophony of conversation between shipyard workers.

He said nothing back, but his eyes remained focused on her. Even as he reached for his bottle of wine again, his stare did not waver.

Fulcrum frowned beneath her hood, "It's uh… kinda good manners to say hello back."

"Why should I do that?" The young human male grunted. He plucked the bottle from the table and took another small sip from it, "I don't know you, and you don't know me."

"Well that's why-"

"And I don't plan on getting to know you. So leave me in peace." He let the bottle hover near his lips again, "Or whatever peace I can manage."

Fulcrum arched an eyebrow. Talk about down in the dumps. What's making him so upset?

He eyed her again after he took another long swig from his bottle, "You aren't leaving."

She shook her head, "Nope. I'm not that easy to get rid of. For now, you're stuck with me."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "Look around." She gestured to the other patrons in the bar, "You and I are just about the only ones in here not from the Driveyards. Haven't seen another outsider in some time, so I figured I'd say hi. Maybe get a nice story or two out of you."

"I have no story to tell. Now leave me alone."

Her frown deepened, "Sour much?" She took a deep breath, "My name is Fulcrum-"

"What kind of name is that?"

She scowled back, "You've got an attitude, did you know that?"

"I," He leaned forward a little bit, "don't give a damn. I'm just here to drink and be left alone."

Fulcrum nodded her head. She could understand that. If Bail Organa had not contacted her so soon after the Empire fell, she probably would've done the same in the wake of the Jedi Purge. The Rebellion gave her purpose, and a job she was exceptional at. Without it, what would she be but another outcast, languishing in some cantina on a backwater world no one bothered to care about. She could at least empathize with how this guy felt.

But that did not mean she had to tolerate it.

"Alright, fine." She grumbled, shifting in her seat and resting her arms on the table, fingers lacing up into a tight ball, "If you're going to be disagreeable, then I'll cut to the chase. Do you know an Obi Wan Kenobi?"

That got a reaction. An extremely subtle one, but one she noticed. A slight widening of his eyes as soon as she mentioned the name Kenobi. A small brush of his fingertips along the neck of his wine bottle. A little twitch in the corner of his mouth. He seemed… pissed off by that name. Not exactly the best sign for someone she suspected Master Kenobi knew.

"I don't know an Obi Wan Kenobi." He grunted, leaning back in the booth, "I know a Ben Kenobi."

"Ah…" Fulcrum nodded, "That's a decent cover on his part. Tell me, does he still have the beard or not?"

"Why should I say anything to you?"

"I'm an old friend of his."

For the first time in their entire conversation, she got a genuine reaction from the young man; a scoff.

"Kenobi has friends? I doubt that. He never mentioned any." He tapped a finger along the body of his wine bottle, "And I think I'm done chatting. I never wanted to chat anyways. I just want to sit here and drink. Yet somehow, you managed to get me talking."

"It's probably my infectious personality." Fulcrum grinned beneath her hood.

"Then I need a cure." He grumbled. He tapped the bottle again, "This is probably it." He tipped it back and took one long gulp.

Fulcrum furrowed her brow when he let out a loud, satisfied gasp after he set the bottle down. Something was very off about this guy. He had the look of a jaded, broken soldier, but he also seemed way too young to be that way. He could not be a veteran of the Clone Wars, not unless he was much older than he looked.

"How old are you, friend?" Fulcrum abruptly asked.

"Why do you care?" He grumbled.

Fulcrum shrugged, "Just having a conversation." He let out a long sigh at that, "It gets boring hearing the same old stuff about starships day in and day out."

He looked at her wearily, and clearly a little frustrated, "Eighteen." He grunted.

Definitely not a veteran of the war. Not unless he was a child soldier… like I was.

She winced internally at that thought. Those were feelings she needed to keep in check.

"So what made you so… so…" Fulcrum waved at him, "like this."

"None of your business." He grunted again, treating her as a waste of his time.

Fulcrum frowned. She could not let this guy chase her away that easily. He knew a Kenobi. How many Kenobis could there possibly be in the galaxy? She only ever knew one, and if he did survive then he would use a false identity he could easily remember. Ben Kenobi fit the bill. No, he needed to give her his location. Obi Wan Kenobi was a name the Rebellion could rally around.

But first, she needed to get him to open up. Even if it was only a little bit. Just a small opening is all she needed.

"You know how I got here? Crazy story, I-"

"I don't care." He interrupted, his voice dropping to a low growl, "Leave me be."

Now you're not just being surly, you're being damn rude. Fulcrum thought, How would Master Skywalker handle this?

Probably with a lightsaber, some mild force powers, maybe a harsh mind suggestion, and a strong punch to the jaw. Aggressive negotiations, for short.

As fun as that is, it won't work here.

Master Kenobi would slowly whittle away his social defenses. Get friendly with him. Make him open up on his own through subtle suggestions, both with and without the Force's aid.

Yeah… let's try a small little tap against the mind.

Fulcrum motioned her hand across her face.

"Tell me your name." She said, reaching out with the force and carefully placing the suggestion within the young man's mind.

His eyes glazed over behind his mask for a split second.

"Gerome." He muttered.

"Gerome." Fulcrum parroted, she held out a hand, "Nice to meet you."

He reached out to shake her hand then froze. The glaze over his eyes evaporated. His pinkish eyes narrowed on her.

"You…" He snarled, "You're like him."

Fulcrum frowned, "Like who? Like Kenobi? Well, yeah. I am an old friend of his."

"Not just him." Gerome's scowl deepened, "You're like Maul."

Fulcrum's blood ran cold. Maul, another name she had not heard in years. The last time she heard of him, she had been battling against him on Mandalore, during one of the final battles of the Clone Wars.

How do you know Maul?

She sensed anger well up inside of Gerome. A slowly bubbling volcano of fury that simmered beneath deep layers of indifference. That name provoked rage the likes of which he did not normally possess. Why?

"Well… Maul is not a friend of mine." Fulcrum replied, "In fact, he and I were on opposite sides of a war so-"

"Doesn't matter." Gerome snarled, "You're just like him, Kenobi, Lucina, Morgan; a wielder of that unnatural magic." He pointed an accusatory finger at her, "That magic killed my mother and father. So if you value your life, I suggest you get lost."

He calls the Force magic? And he knows Master Kenobi and Maul? Fulcrum leveled her gaze with Gerome's meeting his unbreakable stare and challenging it. This is getting stranger by the moment.

Before she could reply, she spotted someone enter the Cantina. Or, at least lingering near the main door. A shorter figure in full Mandalorian armor, green in color. The armor was scraped up and dirty, but undoubtedly strong. A jetpack sat on his back. The tinted visor focused on her. As she locked eyes with the man in Mandalorian armor, she noticed a small dent in his helm. Ice shot through her veins.

Fett.

The absolute worst case scenario was now in play.

She leaned across the table, "Listen to me very carefully Gerome. My name is Ahsoka Tano. Master Kenobi was a teacher of mine when I was growing up. We are being hunted down." She nodded past him, "That guy is after me."

Gerome leaned back, "Don't care. It's your problem, not mine."

"It'll be your problem when I lose him and he comes to you to figure out where I went." She saw the corner of his mouth twitch at that, "Believe me when I say, Fett does not ask questions. He demands answers, and he gets them only one way. I doubt you want to find out how. I'll give you a small hint though, it does not involve leaving you to wallow in peace."

"I'll just tell him I don't know you."

"After how long I've chatted with you, I doubt that excuse will work." She smirked as realization flickered in his eyes, "You're still gonna be stuck with me, Pinky."

He grit his teeth, "My hair is rose, not pink."

"Doesn't matter." Ahsoka flicked her eyes back to the entrance. Fett was gone.

Where did he go?

"Do you have a speeder? Some form of transportation to quickly get me to the spaceport?" She asked Gerome, "I'll pay you. I'll give you a ride out of here if needed, just help me out."

Gerome shifted his weight as he weighed his options. His reluctance was plain to see. The guy really did not care about his well-being if he did not agree with this deal immediately. Ahsoka was confident she could eventually shake Fett and escape the planet, somehow. Once she did that, the infamous bounty hunter would go to Gerome and torture him for information on her. Worse yet, he'd probably hand him over to the Empire and they would do the torturing for him. As abrasive as this guy has been, Ahsoka wished that fate on very few beings in the galaxy.

"Fine…" Gerome begrudgingly sighed, "Back door."

He slid out from the booth, stumbling a little bit as the copious amounts of wine affected his mind. Ahsoka carefully looked around the cantina. No sign of Fett. No sign of anyone out of the ordinary. She knew she was not just imagining things. There was a bounty hunter here. The most dangerous one to be exact. But was he the only one?

Her right hand brushed against a lightsaber hilt hidden up her cloak's sleeve. Her weapon of absolute last resort. Once she used it, she would never be able to return to Kuat. They will all know she is a Jedi then.

She followed Gerome out the back door, both of them quietly slipping outside into the pouring rain. Deep puddles lined the road near the back door of the cantina. Ahsoka looked for a speeder, but saw none.

"I thought you said you had a speeder." She hissed to Gerome as he stumbled towards a large waste bin with an enormous tarp haningin off the side of it, covering up what was probably the cantina's cleaning supplies.

"I never said anything about a speeder." He grunted, boots sloshing in the rain soaked alley. "The hell is a speeder anyways?" He finished under his breath.

As he approached the tarp, Ahsoka saw it shift. At first, she thought it was a trick of the neon lights reflecting in the rain. But then it moved again, and she was certain she saw something long, black, and scaly slither beneath the tarp.

"Easy, girl." Gerome grumbled as he reached for the tarp and pulled it back a little bit. Ahsoka carefully approached as she did so, her lightsaber gently creeping down her sleeve towards her hand.

He pulled the tarp back. Ahsoka saw a single, yellow, slitted eye open up and narrow at Gerome. A flurry of motion, and the tarp fell away as an enormous winged reptile emerged from its hiding spot. It shuddered, shaking rainwater from its scale as several irritated growls rumbled from it's toothy maw.

"Yeah, I was drinking." Gerome said with a heavy, weary sigh. "What's it to you, Minervykins?"

It… it barked at him? At least, Ahsoka thought it was a bark. She couldn't quite place the sound, but the thing was somehow communicating with Gerome. Gerome sighed and brushed his hand against it's scaly snout.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I'll find you a drier spot for tonight." He grunted, spinning around to look at Ahsoka. As he turned, the lizard swept its scaly head past him. It's gaze narrowed on Ahsoka as it barred massive fangs at her.

"Um…" Ahsoka gulped, "Easy er- Minervykins?"

The beast snorted. A puff of steam shot from its nostrils as its hot breath mixed with the cool, damp air. It's scaly lips curled back as it barred more fangs at Ahsoka.

"It's um," Ahsoka gulped as it's teeth got closer to her. So close that it's snout was nearly beneath her hood, "It's protective, huh?"

"It is a she." Gerome replied, voice still monotonous, but Ahsoka detected a hint of defensiveness when he said that, "And don't call her Minervykins. She doesn't like that."

Ahoska arched an eyebrow, "But you just-"

"Only I can call her that. You can call her Minerva, got it?"

Ahsoka gulped as the beast snorted at her, as if it was trying to get Gerome's point across further.

"Got it." Ahsoka nodded, allowing her lightsaber to not fall into her hand, "Don't worry Minerva, I'm not going to hurt Gerome."

"She wouldn't let you even if you tried." Gerome tapped Minerva's right flank while he worked to fasten a saddle of some sort onto her back, "Don't eat our way out of here." He muttered at the beast.

Minvera turned her head to look at Gerome. It gurgled at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"There's hardly enough meat on her for a snack, let alone a meal. I told you I'd find you some good food as soon as I figured out where the hell we are."

"You're on Kuat." Ahsoka deadpanned as she glanced cautiously around the alley. Doing her best to keep an eye out for Fett or any other bounty hunters.

"I know that." Gerome grunted as he finished what he was doing. He placed his boot into the large stirrup and hauled himself up into the rain soaked, leather saddle, "I meant in relation to Ylisse."

Ahsoka gave him a puzzled look, "Ylisse?"

"The Halidom." Gerome attempted to clarify, "East of Plegia, south of Regna Ferox. Across the sea from Valm."

Ahsoka shook her head, "You're speaking gibberish now." She glanced at Minerva, "Do you know what he's talking about?"

Minerva growled at her, and Ahsoka snapped her mouth shut.

Gerome narrowed his eyes at her, "How could you not know-"

Ahsoka raised a hand, silencing him as she felt a disturbance in the force. Something was moving in the alleyway. She flicked her eyes to the shadows, her lightsaber once again drifting down her sleeve to her open, waiting palm.

She saw a flash of white in one shadow, followed by the sound of a blaster priming.

"Watch out!" She shouted, leaping up onto Minerva and activating her blade.

An azure lightsaber burst to life in her grasp and deflected a red blaster bolt aimed directly at Gerome's back. Minerva uttered an enraged roar as she spun to confront the attacker. Ahsoka nimbly backflipped over Gerome and gracefully landed in front of him, twirling her lightsaber to deflect another blaster bolt.

"Bounty hunters!" She shouted at Gerome, "Go!"

"Better hold onto something."

Gerome snapped the reins. Minerva snarled, unfurling her massive, black wings. She hammered them against the air once, and all three soared high into the sky. A blaster bolt shrieked after them. Ahsoka jumped around Gerome, taking a seat behind him. As she sat, she deflected the bolt back to the shooter, narrowly missing him. The light from the bolt reflected against a human man wearing rough armor and heavy bandages around his scarred head.

Dengar. She thought with a scowl.

A loud whine filled her ears. Ahsoka gasped and looked to her right. A Mandalorian rocketed towards her with the help of a jetpack. She was not going to be able to get her lightsaber around in time.

Minerva's wings folded, and the beast dove sharply. Ahsoka gasped, nearly losing her grip on her lightsaber as Boba Fett overshot them.

"How fast can she fly?" Ahsoka asked Gerome, "Faster than a jetpack I hope?"

She heard a slight laugh from Gerome.

"Are you really going to challenge her?" He leaned close to Minerva's neck and whispered to her.

Minerva broke out of her dive just before she could crash into the treetops below them. Her scaly belly brushed against the dark leaves at the top of the jungle canopy. Each branch, each leaf, zoomed faster beneath Ahsoka as the massive reptile powerfully beat its wings against the wind.

Oh yeah, she can outrun Fett. Ahsoka thought as an enormous smile crossed her lips.

"Where's the spaceport?" Gerome asked as he gripped the reins tight, spurring Minerva to a faster pace.

Ahsoka leaned close so he could hear her through the howling wind. As she moved, her hood fluttered back, revealing her orange face and her blue and white montrals, "Due west. Not far, you can't miss it. Don't worry about your friend. I can haul ten loads of X-wing spare parts in the cargo hold." Ahsoka beamed, "So yes, Minerva can fit."

She noticed a ghost of a smile cross Gerome's lips. She also sensed a large amount of confusion in him, but he did not bring it to Ahsoka's attention. His sole focus was on guiding them safely to their destination as quickly as possible.

"Good." He turned Minerva west, "I think?"

The beast rumbled beneath Ahsoka. A pleased sound. One that put the Togruta's nerves at ease. She slid her deactivated lightsaber back up her sleeve and took in the feeling of this flight. A thrilled smile crossed her lips even as cold rain battered against her skin. It had been a long time since flying felt this exciting. Not since the days her Master piloted the Twilight did she feel this much excitement and adrenaline.

A sad smile crossed her lips as they neared the spaceport.

Anakin would have loved this.

Through the rain, she could see her small freighter waiting for them on its landing pad. She pointed it out to Gerome and he quickly set Minerva down. As soon as they landed, Ahsoka jumped from Minerva's back and opened the cargo bay ramp.

"Get her inside, quick!" She hissed to Gerome.

A flurry of motion occurred near the catwalk to her ship. Ahsoka noticed white armor sprinting towards her. She quickly flicked her hood back over her head.

"There's the Jedi! Blast her!" A stormtrooper barked.

Red blaster bolts shrieked at her and Gerome. Minvera hissed and roared as one passed too close to her head.

"Get in the thing!" Gerome snapped at her, "I know it's a tight space but it's better, safer, and drier, than here!"

Ahoska's lightsaber burst to life in her hands. The azure blade deflected one bolt after another back at the stormtroopers. One by one, they fell to their own blaster fire.

Gerome shouted at her.

"She's in!"

"Get in too!" Ahsoka shouted back, turning and sprinting to her ship. She tapped a comm link on her wrist, "Artoo, start her up!"

A series of whirs and beeps replied, then the engines to her ship thundered to life, startling both Gerome and Minerva as the cargo ramp began to ascend.

"Take off, Artoo!" Ahsoka snapped as she spun back around to deflect more blaster bolts.

The ship started to ascend. Right before the cargo doors closed too far, Ahsoka gathered the force around her. She snarled, propelling her body through the air in a sheer arc up into the closing ramp. She grabbed the top of it and hauled her body over the ramp just before it slammed shut. She slid down onto the ground, and, not missing a beat, jumped to her feat and sprinted to the cockpit of her ship. All the while, Minerva snarled and gnashed her jaws while Gerome did his best to calm her down.

Can't pay attention to that. Need to fly. Need to fly.

The door to the cockpit burst open and she surged inside, nearly knocking over a small, blue astromech.

"Artoo, is the hyperdrive ready!?"

The astromech beeped at her.

"Good boy." Ahsoka gasped as she got in the pilot's seat, took the controls, and rocketed out of Kuat's atmosphere.

She watched as the nav-computare input random coordinates for a random jump to a nearby planet. Not one with any rebel presence. Good, Artoo was sticking to their emergency plan. The last thing they needed was the Fett, or worse, the Empire, tracking them back to Yavin.

Fighters screamed towards her. As she evaded them, the door to the cockpit open and Gerome took a seat beside her. His eyes were wide behind his mask as he gripped the armrests to the copilot's chair tight.

"Where's the sky?" He gulped.

"About to look different, again" Ahsoka said with a slight laugh.

She hit the hyperdrive. The engines roared, Minerva roared, the stars around the Driveyards turned into streaks of bright light as Fulcrum made her latest escape.

And chapter! Gerome finally appears, and with Ahsoka of all people. Talk about two very different personalities now needing to work together. That's going to be fun to write. This was a pretty small chapter in the grand scheme of things, but still a good one for the story. We got into Mace and Kjelle's heads a little bit, and now Mace is on the lookout for Obi Wan, whenever he arrives. I'm excited!
Anyways, let me know what you all think of this chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it! Have a nice day!

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