Spoilers/warnings: Set right after the final page of the Star Wars Jedi: 'Battle Scars' novel with bits of the 'Jedi Survivor' trailers thrown in. HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE 'BATTLE SCARS' NOVEL AND LIGHT ONES FOR 'JEDI SURVIVOR' AHEAD. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOK OR WATCHED THE TRAILERS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Summary: Merrin looked down at her roughened palms. The comforting, homey atmosphere aboard the Mantis had been permanently altered. She knew it was all her fault. She should've NEVER removed that cursed, white helmet.
Then maybe her family would still be intact.
The Inquisitor would've never found them. Greez would still be whole. Cere wouldn't have lost the will to continue fighting and Cal-
Cal wouldn't have almost…died.
Hot tears sprang into her eyes. She never wanted to feel that pain again.
.
.
When Merrin stood next to Cal in the shade of the Stinger Mantis' boarding ramp and watched as Fret and Irei walked off together, the Nightsister knew she'd never see them alive again. It didn't matter if the women had the Mantis' personal comms. Fret was an Imperial deserter and the Keshiri had a price on her head the Mantis crew didn't have the means to pay. And besides that, the crew had barely made it out of their latest scrape alive, let alone intact.
No wonder Cere and Greez wanted to leave as soon as they finished refueling and restocking the Mantis. They were eager to be done and dusted with this near-death fiasco and Merrin couldn't blame them. For the small amount of personal good she'd done to Merrin in regards to reigniting her magick in a fresh, new way, Chellwinark Frethylrin had been a HUGE liability during her short time on board.
One the crew wasn't very eager to repeat.
She gave Cal's hand a gentle squeeze before disappearing in a burst of green flame, startling the Jedi as she rematerializing in her quarters on her cot in a sitting position. Merrin bowed her head as she sent Cal a whispered apology through their shared mental link, telling him she just needed to be alone for a bit and she'd join them in the commons later.
She felt the tension in his Force signature deflate like air released through a pressure valve. Merrin hated the fact she was the one who'd brought that unpleasant feeling to him and the rest of her family in the first place.
Merrin sat cross legged on her cot, drawing on a meditation technique Cal had taught her long ago. She sealed the door with a line of green ichor, a clear signal to the others she would not be disturbed unless it was an emergency. She bowed her head, resting her ruined palms lightly on her knees.
She couldn't face any of them right now.
She wondered if she could look at her crew, her family the same way again after the hellish nightmare they'd just endured.
All at her hands no less.
All because she let her guard down and let a stranger – an Imperial for Maker's sake! – into her heart, head and bed. And it cost them dearly, some more than others.
The comforting, homey atmosphere aboard the Mantis had been permanently altered. It was all her fault. She should've NEVER removed that cursed, white helmet.
Then maybe her family would still be intact.
The Inquisitor would've never found them.
Greez would still be whole.
Cere wouldn't have lost the will to continue fighting.
And Cal-
Cal wouldn't have almost…died.
She had almost died.
Hot tears sprang into her eyes. She never wanted to feel that pain again.
Unforgivable.
Foolish.
Sisters.
Mother.
What have I done?
Was she really that desperate, that emotionally starved she'd reach for the first instant connection only to find out it was all a lie and leave her heart in shattered ruins?
It'd taken the Nightsister months for her to let the others in past the shields guarding her heart, Cal included.
But when she removed the gleaming white Trooper helmet on the Haxion Brood base and was met by a violet smirk, strong hands and a pair of red eyes that would change her world forever, something deep inside her soul had relaxed without her permission.
It was a terrible, emotional lapse in judgment that cost her more than she was willing to pay and took her crew to a very dark place. One that in hindsight, she couldn't afford to pull them into again. And it ripped a gaping hole in her heart so big the young witch wasn't sure she would fully recover from it.
She was grateful for Fret being the spark that reignited her magick and changed it into something new and better than before.
She was not however, going to overlook the fact it came at the cost of her crew missing limbs, questioning their original mission, and covered with more cuts, scrapes and bruises than she was comfortable with.
Nor was she going to forgive the betrayal of her feelings when she and Cal discovered Fret was attached and in love with someone else in the bowels of an Imperial compound on Murkhana.
Nor would she forgive the fact Cal had almost lost his life at the hands of the Imperials and the Fifth Brother twice.
Fret had been responsible for all of that.
But she was also the one who bled all of Merrin's anger out and rekindled her fire and held her when she was going through what was the darkest period of her life.
That much the Nightsister was willing to give in the Keshiri's favor.
Other than that, she'd have to deal with the fallout that Fret and Irei's presence had caused, and she wasn't looking forward to it.
The Mantis' engines roaring to life jerked Merrin out of her meditative state. Dimly she heard Greez in the cockpit calling for seats and Cere giving coordinates at her spot in the navigator's chair.
She sensed Cal as he settled onto one of the couches, his Force signature steady but tinged with concern for her well-being.
It made her want to cry.
Then the Mantis was racing through hyperspace, hurtling away from Zimara into the unknown, going Force knows where.
Merrin let out a sigh that seemed to emanate from her very soul.
She had made her choice to stay. And Fret had made hers, even though she and Irei had extended an offer for her to join them.
Binary stars were only meant to orbit each other. They were never meant to merge. They would die spectacular deaths if they got too close in each other's' gravitational pull.
And she wasn't ready for that.
She also knew if she died, it would utterly destroy Cal and send him spiraling into a dark void he would never recover from. And Merrin resolved – right then and there – she would never put her Jedi through that level of soul-shattering pain if she could help it.
Which meant only one thing.
She needed to get better with her new and improved magick.
/
The first order of business after their closest brush with death yet was to find Cal a bacta tank to repair his singed muscles courtesy of the Inquisitor's lightsaber. And Greez desperately needed a prosthetic to replace his missing arm.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.
Their little escapade with Fret had put them on the Empire's radar in a bad way. The story that an Imperial deserter had been given safe passage on the Stinger Mantis was the chatter of every Imperial post from the Core to the Outer Rim.
The bloody Chikua City affair at Qeris Lar's tower hadn't gone unnoticed either. Hosnian Prime became a hotbed of Imperial activity after Lar's pivot to the Empire and Merrin – in the privacy of her mind and quarters – cursed her role in setting that chain of events in motion.
She knew they couldn't go forward unless their pilot and Jedi were repaired and fully functional again.
Once again, guilt flooded Merrin's soul. It hurt to look at Cal's crippled limb, Greez's missing arm. She noticed this emotion hung the heaviest on Cere. Saw the woman she considered her elder sister shoot covert looks at Greez whenever the Latero was occupied with flying his beloved ship, big brown eyes full of remorse and self-loathing for her failure to cut the Inquisitor down instead of trying to save him from the dark side.
She found her own gaze drawn to Cal's wrist more than once, encased in a makeshift brace he'd cobbled together with BD-1's help. It wasn't much but it would have to hold until the chatter died down to a muted roar and they could come out of hiding, whenever that was supposed to happen.
For Merrin, the hours that slowly stretched into days was agony. Cal was forbidden from any hard, physical labor on Cere's orders and it was starting to take a toll on him.
Cal was a man of action, a warrior and it pained the Nightsister to see him in such a forced, sedentary state. BD-1 kept up a near-steady stream of beeps, whistles and trills to his human friend, trying his best to keep Cal occupied and his mind off his damaged wrist. Merrin as usual, couldn't understand the little droid and on some level that frustrated her.
She was feeling frustrated about lot of things lately.
Abruptly, she stood and crossed over to where Cal sat in his usual corner meditating. BD-1 let out a series of cheery beeps and whistles as she approached, a tiny smile flickering over her face for the first time since leaving Zimara.
"I still don't understand you, little one," she said, her accented voice rousing Cal from his trance.
"Hey." Green eyes swept from her toes all the way up to her tattooed face and she shivered under Cal's searching gaze. "You okay? You're shaking."
"What? Of course, I am." Her head cocked slightly as she responded to his question in her usual clipped tones. "Why wouldn't I be? I am not cold."
She could take care of herself, thank you very much.
"That's not what I asked," Cal's low voice sent a shiver through the witch's body. He made no move to rise from his seated position. It was clear he meant to finish his meditation – as he barely slept – but he would wait until she spoke her piece.
Merrin felt her throat close as a lump formed. Truly, whatever harm her foolish heart and feelings had inflicted during their disastrous mission with Fret, that had caused her to beat a hasty retreat to her room after taking off from Zimara's sunless surface, Cal's first thought was to ease her pain.
She knew he'd take it from her if he could.
Knew he would do everything in his power to keep her and the rest of his crew alive and safe.
And that scared her.
She was fine though.
She didn't need help.
She was totally fine-
The witch started as something nudged her boot. She glanced down as a concerned BD-1 let out a string of very worried boops and beeps.
"Don't worry, droid," she said, leaning down to give BD a pat, a slight hitch in her voice. "I will be okay."
She met Cal's eyes as she straightened up, his gaze tracking her every move, looking for the slightest signs of distress. The intensity of his stare made the shields – the ones she'd refastened around her broken, vulnerable heart – in the wake of the Murkhana prison disaster tremble, but they didn't fall.
Not yet.
Merrin knew she couldn't maintain her defenses around him forever. It was only a matter of time before he breached them completely and when it did happen…. she wouldn't have the strength to push him away.
She sensed a storm brewing in Cal through the Force. It had started taking shape in the bowels of the Murkhana Imperial prison, and had only intensified from there. When they confronted Qeris Lar in his tower at Hosnian Prime, the swirling Force vortex within her Jedi had darkened with fear when the Fifth Brother had suddenly showed up to capture Irei and finish Cal and the rest of them off.
But the second she'd jumped in front of Cal and caught Five's lightsaber with bare, flame-covered hands, she felt a wave of protective resolve pulse from Cal through their bond. A fierce, rushing wind that screamed through the Force so powerful it nearly ripped the breath from her lungs before the stasis wore off and his strong hands yanked her away from Five's crimson blade, almost losing his hand in the process of saving her-
Enough damage had been done by her foolish heart as it was. She didn't want to be responsible for increasing Cal's reckless behavior or suffering-
"Merrin." The sound of her name from Cal's lips pulled the witch out of her rambling thoughts. "If you need anything-"
I promise, my Jedi. She whispered into his mind. I am going to be okay. I just…need time.
And just as before, she watched Cal nod and his face relax. His eyes slid shut and he began to breathe deeply, his mind drifting back into the dark void of the Force. Merrin gently touched his shoulder with her fingertips before she quickly disappeared in a burst of green fire back into the safety of her room.
She couldn't break anything valuable there.
/
The moment Cal emerged from his bacta tank – with his wrist covered in a circular, leather cuff and protective, metal panel – and was medically cleared, he wasted no time rebuilding his strength.
Merrin joined him when she could, but for the most part she found herself sequestered in her quarters, practicing her magick. Very soon, the tug of opposing the Empire would pull Cal back into the fray and she knew he'd pick up right where they'd left off.
Problem was, the Nightsister wasn't sure she could face the endless sea of stormtroopers the way she used to before-
Before her.
Damn that purple-skinned bitch and her lizard lady friend! A sharp burst of anger bubbled up from the depths of Merrin's soul, the ends of her pale hair smoking, her room suddenly felt very cramped and small as her ichor swirled through her veins. Despite her best efforts, Fret's presence lingered in the witch's mind, imprinted on her soul and it pissed her off.
She'd shared Cal's room intimately with a woman she'd only knew for a short time, yet she felt more connected to than most of the clients they'd taken on over the years. But that bond came with the terrible pain of betrayal and the near destruction of her family. As she'd told Cal before their showdown with the Brood and the Inquisitor at Chikua City, the Nightsisters of Dathomir do not take betrayal kindly.
To that end she couldn't bring herself to leave the only home and family she'd ever known behind while pretending to be someone else constantly on the run and eventually overtaken by the Empire's forces.
She never forgot waking up in the shattered remains of Qeris Lar's cloud tower and Cal's overwhelming relief as he threw himself over her prone form, wrapping her in a hug so strong she was thankful he couldn't see tears mingling with the sweat on her face.
His arms had felt so good, so solid, so right she didn't want him to let go, but the need to escape back to the Mantis and bind everyone's wounds reluctantly overrode her desire to let Cal hold her close.
After that, she found herself secretly counting the days when Cal would do that again.
She prayed it would be soon.
She could finally put her silly fling with Fret to rest. Pretend the Keshiri never even existed. She could pretend her world hadn't been turned upside down, adapt and move forward. It was what survivors did.
Her focus needed to be razor sharp. The Empire grew stronger and more oppressive by the day. Any future interactions by her with potential clients or – Maker forbid – new crew members would be kept strictly professional. She refused to let a complete stranger get close and knock down her emotional walls like that ever again.
That privilege belonged to only one person. And she knew Cal wasn't quite ready to take the plunge just yet.
But when he did, she'd welcome him with open arms.
/
And for several months after Cal became fully functional, Merrin decided she'd had enough barricading herself from the rest of the crew. With the exception of mealtimes, she wasn't completely comfortable enough to rejoin them in the commons between supply runs and rest stops.
Nobody pressed her solitary routine at first and for that she was eternally grateful. But she felt the crew's worried gazes follow her when she cleared out after dinner, showered and locked herself in her cocoon again.
But she couldn't ignore her family forever. It wasn't fair she was imposing her own self-exile on them when they did nothing wrong.
So instead of her usual routine of going straight to her room after dinner, she decided to spend an excruciating hour a night absconding to the commons with a pile of holobooks and buried her nose in them, even if she didn't know what she was reading.
Her stiff posture and demeanor were enough to keep the others at bay. It worked for a time.
But soon, Cal and Cere began to slowly work their way back into her space. She supposed it was inevitable.
And besides, she was a Nightsister for Maker's sake! Her sisters and Mother would've scolded her for such childish antics.
Cere pulled her aside one day as she was finishing up another holobook on esoteric teachings, wanting to further deepen her knowledge of magick and how it worked in other cultures.
She was almost to the end of her studying when she felt a light touch on her shoulder followed by Cere's voice.
"Merrin? A moment?"
The witch stood from her seat at the table, stretching her limbs, her rear stiff from sitting so long, and gently placed the holobook on the table. The older woman motioned with her head for Merrin to follow her to the galley, out of earshot from the sealed cockpit where Greez, Cal and BD were seated.
"What is it Cere? Something wrong?"
Stupid question. Everything had been knocked off kilter since her fateful encounter with Fret at the Haxion Brood base.
A great deal of turmoil, guilt and a bone-deep tiredness surrounded Cere a thick, toxic cloud since her encounter with the Fifth Brother. She'd let the guilt of failing her old student Trilla override her common sense to kill the Inquisitor.
Merrin thought her natural affinity with darkness would prevent her from being too deeply affected by the older woman's internal struggle.
She was wrong.
Merrin wasn't fooled. She'd witnessed the horrible aftermath of the price Cere paid for not killing Five when she had the chance.
Cere had desperately tried to reason with him, save the man from the dark, only to be laughed at. It nearly got Cal killed for her efforts. If it wasn't for Greez throwing himself in front of the young Jedi when he did-
Merrin flinched away from the thought. She didn't want to imagine a galaxy, much less her life without Cal in it. It'd be too dark and lonely and she never wanted to go back to that place for a very long time.
Greez's brave action had jarred Cere out of the delusional mindset she'd fallen into since barely escaping the dreaded Fortress Inquisitorious with Cal with both their lives all those years ago.
Unfortunately, it only made the ex-Jedi withdraw further into her research. She'd intensified the acquisition of ancient, Jedi artifacts like the Circlet of Saresh to the point she was no longer focused on the original mission.
Greez's injury had the complete opposite effect on Cal. He threw himself headlong into battle with a frightening zeal he knew damn well pushed them to their limits. The risks he was willing to take were borderline suicidal. If it wasn't for Cere joining her fellow Knight into the field, Merrin knew he would've died many times over.
It was a deadly habit. She knew it and so did he. It was Cal's way of coping with the trauma of two loved ones almost dying for his sake.
She hated it.
It was becoming clear she had to take her leave and strike out on her own soon. She was no use to Cal the way she was now. Thankfully, Cere had taken her role of mentor more seriously after Five, and when her nose wasn't buried in research, she spent every spare minute training Cal in her unorthodox way.
A twinge of regret thrummed through Merrin's heart – the crushing weight of her poor choices since they'd blown up the Haxion Brood base threatened to suffocate her – but she banished it with a tremendous shove into a corner of her mind.
She leaned against the sink, arms folded giving Cere her complete and undivided attention.
"When hasn't anything gone wrong?" Cere snorted, bracing her hands against the kitchen table a few paces away. "Listen Merrin. I've seen the way that mission affected everyone on this ship. My indecision played no small part in that. It cost us dearly." She tilted her head to glance in the direction of the cockpit, before her large, brown eyes returned to her friend's face. "Which is why I wanted you to hear this from me directly and not one of the boys."
A tense knot began to form in Merrin's gut. She sensed this was the crux of Cere's inner turmoil and internally braced for the older woman's next words. Whatever they were, she knew she wasn't going to enjoy it but her elder sister needed to get whatever was bothering her off her chest.
"I've been in touch with some of my contacts," Cere continued, her gaze returning to study the gleaming surface of the table as if all the answers to their problems lay there. "One of them has found a place where Greez can get fitted for a prosthetic without alerting the Empire."
Merrin sighed, bowing her head slightly, the silent but very obvious but hanging in the air like a heavy mist. Cere didn't need to say it. They knew each other well enough to communicate without words.
"What's the catch?"
"It all comes down to timing. I don't know if we can fully trust the surgeon yet, but we can't keep putting this off." Cere slid into one of the chairs, prompting Merrin to sit across from her. "Besides, I want to make absolutely sure we won't get ambushed or ratted out. We're very recognizable."
"And where would the procedure take place?" Merrin brushed the errant stray lock of hair out of her eye by habit. She really needed to do something about her current style. One that would be more suited to field work and be less hassle. "As you say, our options are limited."
Cere steepled her fingers.
"Koboh."
Merrin blinked, caught off guard.
"Come again?"
"The planet's name is Koboh. That's where Greez's operation will take place if all goes well. Which brings me to the real reason I wanted to talk to you."
Merrin waited patiently as Cere paused to gather her thoughts. The same nervous tension that'd been temporarily banished to a less noticeable sector of her stomach before Cere had pulled her aside, rushed back with a vengeance. Suddenly, the galley felt very cramped and stuffy and she fought the unbecoming urge to run.
Cere leaned forward in her seat, speaking lowly. Even though the cockpit doors were closed, she didn't want them to hear any of this just yet. She had to be fast.
"Alright. Here's how this is gonna go. Soon as Greez gets squared away with a shiny new arm, the next order of business is for me to find a remote location to create an Archive and store any Jedi artifacts I come across." She stared out of one of the port windows, the bluish glow of hyperspace rush by the viewport. "My tenure aboard the Mantis is coming to a close."
Merrin clenched her fingers together so hard her knuckles turned white. "Does Cal know?" She asked, her quiet voice belying the storm raging inside her soul.
Cere blew out a heavy breath. "No, he doesn't," she replied, eyes distant. "Not yet. He doesn't fully understand, but I've made my decision. This is my path forward. Believe me, I've had this discussion with him several times already. It never gets easier. But you've noticed I've handed all command authority to him. From now on, Cal's got the final word on how things are run around here."
Merrin nodded. I figured as much. Cere had spent the months after that mission slowly phasing herself out of the field. With the exception to her most vital duties – monitoring comms and navigation and only going into the most dangerous missions when Cal needed the extra set of hands – Cere spent her time searching for a remote location to begin the realization of her dream full time.
Still, she couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness creep into her heart. Cere was the closest thing to an older sister she had since her coven was massacred by Grievous and even that was being taken away. Her lips trembled and Cere reached over to cover her clasped fingers with a reassuring squeeze.
"Hey, now. I'm not leaving right away. Someone's gotta keep the boys in line." Brown eyes twinkled and Merrin chuckled in spite of herself.
"But real talk though," she continued, not releasing her younger friend's hands. "Woman to woman. I'm not always gonna be around to pull Cal out of the fire, Merrin. It's not going to be easy breaking him the news. You know how he gets."
The Nightsister sighed. She knew what the elder was asking but she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to shoulder the daunting task of keeping Cal alive. For all his immense, physical strength and combat prowess, he was a damaged, sensitive soul who didn't want others to suffer as he did. In an uncaring galaxy that grew darker with the Empire's rise, selfless beings like Cal were becoming a rare breed.
Even a being as powerful as herself wasn't immortal. Her coven had learned that lesson the hard way.
"I know." And I'm scared.
She refused to let fear best her. She wouldn't forgive herself if anything bad happened to Cal.
"Ladies! Grab some seat!" Greez's voice crackled through the ship's comm. "Almost at our pit stop. Fixing to enter atmo in 5 minutes!"
Cere gave her hands another gentle squeeze. "Just keep each other alive out there. That's all I ask. I trust you. So does Cal. I know you desire to explore the galaxy beyond the Mantis, but the Empire's strength and influence grows more powerful by the day. What you yearn for isn't an option right now. It might never be an option." Cere sighed. And yet here I am, fixing to do just that.
Merrin remained still, hands folded on top of the table closely watching her friend's face. The soft, ambient lighting from the galley highlighted the wrinkles on her forehead, the bags under her eyes and suddenly, the ex-Jedi looked and sounded much older than she really was.
"Remember, chances to leave will be few and far between. The longer you stay, the harder it'll be to walk away." Cere rose and started walking towards the cockpit, then paused to fix the younger woman with a pointed stare. "I know you can take care of yourself, but you know as well as I do, Cal would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you on your travels and he wasn't there to prevent it. And I swear, if you ever break his heart-"
Merrin shot to her feet at Cere's warning tone.
"I won't!"
Large, brown eyes regarded her sharp declaration with the protective aura of a mother bear guarding her cub. Merrin took a steadying breath, gentling her voice as best she could to show her friend she was serious.
"I promise you. I won't." I could never.
A small smile curled the severe line of Cere's mouth. She nodded, satisfied with her friend's earnest answer, then resumed walking.
Merrin waited till Cere disappeared into the cockpit before flashing to the couch in front of the holotable. As she braced for exiting hyperspace, she mulled over their talk as the older woman took her usual place in the navigator's seat.
She didn't know if she had the strength to leave Cal behind, and if she was being honest, Merrin really didn't want to find out. Sure, she privately thought her destiny lay beyond the confines of the Mantis. However, that was when Fret had been aboard at the time and had changed her perspective on what her purpose in life could potentially be.
But she wasn't here and Merrin knew by turning down her and Irei's offer on Zimara, a huge opportunity to leave and forge a new path had been lost forever. She knew she wouldn't get another chance for a very long time.
She couldn't leave Cal behind. Not just yet. Not after she'd been overwhelmed by his fear and panic of nearly losing her at Lar's tower. It burned into her soul like a branding iron. It'd be too cruel and she didn't have the heart to put him through any more emotional turmoil and pain.
So she sat there in silence, her desire to travel at war with Cal's insatiable battle thirst and dreading the day her elder sister in arms would leave the Mantis behind for good.
/
It was during a supply run on an Imperial infested Outer Rim world that Merrin bore witness to a completely different side of Cal Kestis. One that, if she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, she'd have never believed it.
On paper the errand was simple enough. Put the Mantis down far enough away from the spaceport of whatever backwater planet she never bothered to learn the name of, slip into town, buy the list Cere had made for them and get back to the ship.
Merrin walked close to Cal as they made their way through town, passing vendors hawking their wares, stopping occasionally to buy foodstuffs, medicine, water and caf. When they were almost finished, Cal pulled her into the shade of an alleyway making sure no one was watching too closely.
He pressed her into the worn sandstone wall of a shop, and after a quick glance around, put his lips close to her ear.
"Get the supplies back to the Mantis," he whispered keeping his voice down so no one could overhear. "There's a mech shop not far from here. I'm going to see if they've got anything useful."
She opened her mouth to speak and he swiftly placed a finger over her lips, cutting off any verbal protests. But the young witch was undeterred.
NO Cal. I'm not leaving you!
He raised a brow, her outburst traveling the length of his mind with a panicked snap. "Mer, it's ok. I won't be at the shop very long-"
She shook her head, silvery strands dancing around her face. BD-1 beeped gently at the Nightsister as he readjusted his clawed grip on Cal's back.
But the Jedi was equally as stubborn as her, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Merrin, you've got most of the critical supplies. Cere's gonna kill us if we lose them." His face softened at the sight of her tensed jaw. "Hey. It's okay. I won't take long. Besides," he leaned back slightly. "You'll know if I'm in danger."
When she still made no move to teleport to the ship, Cal shifted his stance, pressing her shoulders a bit harder into the stone and oh gods that felt so good-
"Go, Merrin."
She stared at him, the warmth from his strong hands seeping into her bones. The last time he'd told her to leave his side, it had almost ended in tragedy.
Her shoulders sagged. Get it together! She mentally scolded herself. Just get to the Mantis. Drop the supplies off and come right back.
Merrin gave Cal a small nod, and saw a relieved smile flash on the man's scarred face.
Okay. I'll do it, her voice filtering through the private comm she'd established in his mind was a bit strained, not trusting herself to speak at the moment. But YOU better be in one piece when I return.
Cal's crooked grin grew wider as he took a step back, releasing his grip on her shoulders. She felt the loss of his body heat instantly and barely managed to swallow a soft whine.
Quickly she closed her eyes. Felt the familiar whoosh as her magick transported her away from the Jedi and his droid, supplies in hand and heart in her throat.
She rematerialized in the middle of the Mantis just as Greez was setting two cups of steaming caf down on the kitchen table.
"Here's the supplies you asked for Cere," she clipped out, dumping the bags unceremoniously on the floor. Greez jumped at the sudden sound of her voice, spilling the freshly brewed caf all over the table's surface.
"Arrrgh! Dammit!" The Latero scrambled to catch the cups, but failed due to his missing upper arm. He spun to face her, eyes narrowed, remaining limbs flung wide. "Ayo witch, a little warning next time?! Look what you made me do!"
"Oh? Sorry Greez," Merrin drawled her tone definitely not sorry as she prepared to teleport back to Cal. The brief split from him was shockingly painful…and she'd been gone from his side for only a few seconds!
How the hell was she supposed to travel the galaxy if she couldn't handle even a tiny degree of separation anxiety?! She wasn't a traumatized child living among her dead sisters anymore!
What's wrong with me?
"Oh, no ya don't!" Greez scuttled forward, just as she began to dematerialize in a green mist. "Get back here and help clean this mess up-!"
But she was already gone, Greez's tirade and his attempt to grab her cut off by a swirl of magick leaving the Latero grasping at thin air.
She rematerialized on the outskirts of town, much further away from where she planned to meet Cal, but she couldn't risk bringing even more of the ever-present Imperial eyes down on this backwater place.
She was thankful she decided to wear one of Cal's old tan and black ponchos when they initially left the Mantis earlier that morning. The neutral colors concealed her bright red robes and the worn hood covered her tattooed face. She was a wanted criminal after all.
She used the Force to search for Cal as she picked her way through the crowded streets. Relief washed over her as she felt him reach out and caress her presence through the Force.
Strong.
Solid.
Reassuring.
He had stayed out of trouble, but with their luck it wouldn't last long. They needed to leave. No sense in causing a scene. Force knows they've had plenty of those.
Supplies are secure, she told Cal through their private mental link, an intimacy she would grant no other living being. We should head back.
Shared thought – especially among the Nightsisters – was the ultimate expression of trust and surrender. It was deemed so sacred, the younger members of the coven were taught to exercise great caution should they choose to perform such an intimate rite with a fellow sister. It would knit the users so closely together; the severing of the bond would feel like one's soul was being ripped from the body.
That was why when she started the process after Ilyana gave her the necklace she'd crafted for her; the pain of her tragic loss was near unbearable.
She knew if something similar happened to Cal, it would destroy her.
Pretending to be lost, she stopped at a vendor stall to ask for directions to the mechanic shop, and was told to keep on the main street. The place in question was located close to the end of the main drag.
Sudden sounds of blaster fire ripped through the dusty air, causing the crowd to panic and stampede. Merrin fought her way through the rushing stream of terrified locals, heart pounding. The shots had come from the end of the main road where the mechanic shop was at.
The place she knew Cal said he'd be at before he sent her away.
Another round of blaster fire erupted from the shop before it was abruptly cut off with the familiar buzz of a lightsaber.
Cal! Merrin shouted in her mind, desperately shoving her way to the shop, smoke curling from the ends of her pale hair, eyes, mouth and fingers. Fire primed and ready to unleash hell on their enemies. CAL! Where are you?!
She sensed the platoon of stormtroopers thundering down the packed street, scattering pedestrians left and right before she saw those hated white helmets and armor flash into her line of sight.
She should've known better by now. Things rarely went smoothly for the Mantis crew. This was no exception.
Even so.
Would it kill the galaxy to give her and her family a small break? It was a supply run for kriff's sake!
Merrin gathered her magick, preparing to teleport into the mech shop to assist Cal when two of the charging troopers were harshly yanked off their feet and levitated into the air, struggling futilely against invisible strings before they were thrown with extreme force into the nearest building. Merrin heard the sickening crack of breaking bones as they landed in limp piles.
Cal strode out of the mech shop with BD folded into a tight square on his back. Blue plasma lit his face in a ghostly glow, his mouth curved in a predatory grin that shook Merrin to her core.
Her eyes darted back and forth from the dead troopers to Cal, momentarily stunned at the show of extreme violence she'd just witnessed at his hand. Questions zoomed at light speed through her mind.
When had he become so calculated?
So brutal?
So savage?
Had Cal always been this vicious?
And why was she just now noticing it for the first time?
There was no more time to think. Cal flicked his gaze briefly in her direction before refocusing on the Imps who'd stopped at the sudden, violent death of their brothers. Another raise of his arms and several more hapless troopers were hoisted into the air, kicking and struggling before he violently Force pushed them into another building.
The crunch of bones against unyielding stone caused the crowd to erupt into a fresh chorus of screams. Merrin snapped out of her stupor and teleported behind the tangle of Imps, a choking mist of ichor streaming underneath their helmets. She took great pleasure listening to them struggle, lungs gasping for air that would never come.
She lifted her gaze just in time to see Cal seize one of the remaining troopers by the neck with the Force, spin him around and forced him to fire on what was left of his platoon before executing him with a swift slash across the neck. The street fell silent, broken by the occasional whimper from the utterly terrified citizens who now knew a Jedi and a Nightsister existed.
A flare of non-combat warmth buzzed in Merrin's stomach as she recalled her flames into her body. Cal's mastery of the Force, the way he'd lifted and flung those troops instead of charging into them headlong the way he used to-
When had he gotten so skilled in such a short amount of time?
Her musings were interrupted by a hand on her shoulder and the familiar scent of leather and oil filled her senses. Cal stood very close to her, green eyes darting over her frame for any injuries.
"C'mon, let's get outta here!"
She nodded mutely, listening as he hailed their ship from his wrist comm.
"Stingers One and Two, we need the Mantis up and running. We uh, had a little dust up with some Imps."
They heard Greez groan over the freq. "What?! Again?! Kid, I swear if you and the witch bring any of those kriffing mudscuffers on board again for ANY reason, I'm gonna strand BOTH your crazy asses on the next habitable rock-!"
"That's enough, Greez!" Cere's sharp voice cut the Latero off mid-rant. "Tell us where you're at, and we'll pick you up."
"That will not be necessary," Merrin intoned as she took Cal's hand, steering him into another alley. "We'll come to you. Just be ready to take off."
"Heard." Cere replied and cut the comm.
She tightened her hand around Cal's calloused palm, noting the blush dusting his face as she did so. "Ready?"
He nodded, bringing his free hand up to firmly clasp her shoulder.
She bowed her head, visualizing the interior of the Mantis, calling on her ancient power to transport them there.
She totally wasn't focused on the heat radiating from where Cal gripped her arm, or at the speed which it traveled through her body, sparking a need deep within her soul.
Nope.
Not at all.
There would be no mercy for any Imps going forward.
Cal was taking no more chances. She knew he'd never make the mistake of taking an Imperial deserter on board the Mantis ever again. Shortly after he regained his fighting strength, he'd wasted zero time implementing a strict, no-Imperials allowed policy that Greez gleefully had no problems enforcing.
That suited her just fine.
Later, after putting their fresh supplies away and eating a hearty meal from Greez, Merrin headed to the 'fresher for a shower before retiring into her quarters for the night. She knew she couldn't keep disappearing into her room after every mission, but she could no longer make small talk with the others without the suffocating shroud of guilt wrapping itself around her mind and vocal cords.
Lying back on her cot with her head resting in the cradle of her hands, Merrin's thoughts wandered back to the one-sided battle back in that dusty, Imperial controlled town and Cal's unorthodox battle tactics.
In her mind's eye, she recalled how the Imps had struggled under Cal's Force grip. How he crushed them against unyielding stone with nothing more than his mind and willpower.
But it was the trooper Cal had yanked up by the neck, spun him around and forced the hapless Imp to fire on what was left of his platoon before being swiftly executed by lightsaber, that stuck out to the witch the most. It called to the most primal part of her soul and she'd unconsciously squeezed her thighs together, a spark of heat flaring in her womb.
It was deliciously un-Jedi like behavior.
And she – the sick, deviant bitch she was – absolutely purred in delight.
From that moment on, when they weren't getting shot at or blown up, she found herself thinking of all the different, erotic ways she'd be on the receiving end of his strength and Force techniques.
If she could persuade him to let go of his inhibitions. She knew he would never hurt her on purpose. But he'd know her deepest desires eventually and she didn't mind if he took full control-
For combat purposes, of course. Nothing more.
/
After that, Merrin began to pay closer attention to Cal. Secretly. It would do her no good if he caught on to just how closely she was studying his habits, anticipating his moods.
When his emotions ran too hot, she was there to calm him.
When nightmares became too much and he screamed himself awake, she pressed her body into his and held him tight, murmuring soft, comforting sounds until the dark phantoms stalking his mind were banished for a time.
Which given how increasingly more dangerous and pervasive the Empire was, his nightmares were becoming more and more frequent. So were hers, but she didn't want to burden Cal with her problems. Those could wait.
[She wasn't weak.]
Five's crimson blade whirled in her mind's eye in Qeris Lar's cloud tower, replaying over and over like a cracked hologram.
Red heat seared her palms. Her arms burned with the effort of holding the lightsaber at bay. She didn't care.
She wasn't going to let this demon kill Cal.
She loved him.
His pained scream – when the Inquisitor's stasis wore off – would haunt her dreams forever.
That was when she made her decision. She would leave the Mantis to travel. Not because she wanted to. But because she had to.
Cal wouldn't understand. He'd probably get angry or blame himself for the crew parting ways.
That was fine. She'd explore the galaxy for both of them. See sights and meet people who weren't fighting the Empire. But if anyone was threatened by Imps, she wouldn't hesitate to help where she could.
[She could handle it.]
Smoke.
Screams.
Bodies.
Sirens blared.
Prisoners and guards fought each other to the death.
In the midst of the carnage wrought for the sake of someone Fret had believed dead but wasn't, Cal was there. A strong, sturdy anchor when her world was spinning out of control, losing her grip on her true purpose-
Fret had betrayed her. Broken her heart. Shattered her trust.
But not Cal.
He never would.
Why had it taken them almost dying in that damned prison for her to see what he truly meant to her?
She was a fool.
[She didn't need help.]
When she held Cal's hand and watched Fret and Irei disappear from sight on Zimara, she silently thanked the Force for granting her Jedi the crucial, psychometric vision of Fret's past that prevented her from making a set of even bigger mistakes that she could no longer afford. It aided her choice to remain on the Mantis for the time being.
And it would give her time to ponder her next move.
She couldn't leave right now. That'd be too cruel. She'd already inflicted enough pain to last them several lifetimes.
But she would eventually and it wasn't going to be an easy parting, especially since Cal would become even more aggressive and reckless during missions.
She'd deal with that when the time came and not a second before.
[She was fine.]
Then why did she seek out the refuge of Cal's arms more and more after every mission?
Why was she letting him sit closer to her during mealtimes, trading smiles and whispered jokes that were mostly at Greez's expense?
Why was she spending more nights huddled together in his bed than her own when the darkness became too much to handle?
[She wondered when she'd started lying to herself.]
/
When the call from Cere's contact came several weeks later, a collective sigh of relief was released. The surgeon on Koboh had finally received Greez's prosthetic and stood ready when the Latero was. Cere wasted no time punching in the coordinates and soon the Mantis was streaking through hyperspace toward the remote planet.
Merrin sat sprawled out on the small bench behind the pilot's chair. One arm acted as a cushion for her head as she stared at the ceiling, eyes half-closed. They'd reach Koboh in a few hours. Greez would undergo surgery and then after that?
She didn't want to think about it.
Their disastrous pit stop on Nar Shaddaa had served as yet another serious wake-up call. She should've seen it coming. The Slice was notorious for its corruption and betrayal was business as usual in Hutta Town and the rest of the interconnected, gold-lit metropolises that gave the planet a near-magical appearance from space.
What was supposed to be a quick, overnight stay turned into disaster as Imperials were alerted to their presence by the dock master who'd been overseeing the Mantis' refueling. Greez elected to stay behind to watch over his beloved ship with Cere while Cal and Merrin were on a much-needed supply run.
They were in the middle of collecting needed supplies when Cal's wrist comm crackled to life.
"Cal! Merrin! Hello? Does anyone copy?!"
Instantly, both young warriors were on high alert. Cal grabbed her hand and they started race-walking down the street, blending into the bustling crowds, becoming – at least for a few moments – another pair of harried tourists taking in the sights.
"Greez?!" Cal hissed into his comm. "What's wro-"
"No time! Get back to the Mantis STAT! We've been made! Patrols are heading your way."
"Dammit!"
Merrin's mouth fell open in a stunned 'o' at the curse that leapt from Cal's throat. He sounded like a smuggler or a bounty hunter, not a Jedi.
Yet another pleasant surprise she would savor in the days ahead.
He was becoming less and less civilized as time went on.
And she loved it.
"Kid?"
"We're coming Greez," he growled into the comm, anger deepening his voice. "Prepare to leave hot."
"Copy that!"
There was no more time to think. Imperial patrols were coming and they had to get out of here.
Cal was already in motion, taking off down the street at a dead sprint. Merrin flashed to the rooftops, keeping an eagle eye on her Jedi as he wove his way around pedestrians and vehicles, taking huge, Force-assisted strides back to the landing docks where the Mantis was parked. It was risky but they couldn't afford to be subtle. Imps knew they were there. No point in hiding their presence.
"There they are!" Scout troopers swarmed the route ahead, stormtroopers following close behind. "Kill them!"
She watched Cal draw his lightsaber without breaking stride. He was going to get himself killed with that many troopers and she wasn't going to let that happen.
Ichor swirled like a deadly mist along the street towards the incoming battalion. Once again, the familiar chorus of civvies screaming in fear erupted as Merrin made quick work of the first wave of Imps.
Cal leapt into the middle of the stunned formation, blue plasma blades flashing and stabbing everything in sight in an intricate, deadly dance. Under their combined powers, the Nightsister and Jedi advanced to the landing pad. Merrin kept a close watch on Cal as he finished off the remaining troopers.
Once the last white helmet was cut through, Merrin flashed to Cal's side. He was breathing hard, and drenched in sweat, clenching his double blades tightly.
Upon sensing her presence, he sheathed his lightsaber and grabbed hold of her on instinct. She wasted no time whisking them away in a green whirlwind, reappearing on the Mantis' boarding ramp, her engines running hot.
They scrambled aboard, flushed and sweaty from their fight.
"It's us!" Merrin called out to the cockpit. "Let's get out of here!"
The ship lifted off the dock and was blasting up through Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere before she was finished speaking. She and Cal lay sprawled on the metal deck, panting from exertion.
"Stay where you are!" Cere commanded over the ship's comm. "Jumping to hyperspace now!"
Her stomach lurched as they made the jump, fingers searching and finding Cal's hand as he caught his breath. Her heart fluttered as his hand curled protectively over hers.
How was she supposed to leave him behind?
/
Three long days passed on Koboh before Greez insisted he leave the hospital post-surgery under his own power. Earlier that morning. Cal had hailed the Mantis that he'd be bringing Greez back to the ship as soon as they got the pilot's recovery plan sorted out.
It was the most nervous Merrin had ever been since she took Cal's hand and let him pull her away from Dathomir all those years ago. Now here she was, about to make the hardest decision of her life yet again, but this time she couldn't take Cal with her. She could no longer bear to watch her Jedi's growing, suicidal tendencies over things that were out of his control.
Am I making the right choice here? When I leave, will it tip him over the edge?
She really didn't want to know the answer to that.
She was not looking forward to this. But it had to be done.
She and Cere were leaving but they agreed to wait until everyone was on board and present to break the news to Cal.
Merrin sat on the couch near the galley, one leg crossed over the other, hands clasped in her lap. Cere was seated on the galley steps, hands braced on the stair she was sitting on.
The time to go their separate ways had finally come and both women were bracing themselves for the explosion they knew was coming.
Cere's comm crackling to life made them jump.
"Cere? We're on our way back. You guys alright?"
"Everything's fine, Cal. Just waiting on you and Greez." Cere abruptly snapped off the comm and leaned forward, tiny tremors beginning to shake her small frame.
Merrin choked back a hysterical giggle from her position on the couch.
After what they had to say when Cal reached the ship, nothing would be truly fine ever again.
/
When they finally broke the news to Cal after dinner, it went just about as well as Merrin expected.
Screaming.
Check.
Cursing.
Check.
Heated accusations from all parties involved while BD hid himself?
Double check.
"I need to clear my head," Cal's jaw bunched as he checked to make sure his lightsaber was secured to his belt. He stalked out the door, glaring at the trio who couldn't bring themselves to meet his angry stare. "Don't come after me."
BD started to follow his friend, then thought better of it. He let out a sad string of boops and trills, antennae drooping. An enraged Cal scared him and the crew had learned early on in their travels to give the man plenty of time and space to cool down.
As soon as Merrin's bones stopped vibrating from the explosive argument the crew had just endured, she whirled to face her friends, hands clenched.
"This isn't right! Cal thinks it's his fault we're leaving? Everything bad that's happened to us since we blew up that damned Brood base up till now…is because of me!"
She began pacing the deck, body shaking as the dam of guilt, heartache and pain finally broke.
"It's MY FAULT for taking Fret on board and vouching for her. It's MY FAULT I prioritized the needs and goals of a stranger over my family's! It's MY FAULT I let my guard down and gave the deepest parts of myself – to a damned Imp no less – what was Cal's all along and I-"
She cut herself off with a harsh gasp.
Sithspit!
That wasn't supposed to come out!
Unable to take her friend's stunned faces at her inadvertent confession, she turned and hastily vanished in a flash of green light into the cool breezes blowing through Koboh's steep, craggy terrain.
She would never live this down.
Back on the Mantis Cere, Greez and BD-1 stared at the space the young witch had occupied a mere eyeblink ago.
"Well, I'll be damned," Greez muttered still trying to wrap his mind around Merrin's final outburst. "So that's why she's been acting weird around the kid for so long-"
"She's in love with him, Captain."
BD whistled incredulously at Cere's declaration causing her to chuckle at the droid.
"Oh, don't give me that. You've been recording us a lot these days. Don't tell me you haven't noticed." She sat down on the couch and patted the empty space next to her. BD immediately rushed over and jumped onto the cushion before clambering to sit in the ex-Jedi's lap. "I knew going our separate ways was going to be hard, but after what I just heard-"
"Yeah," Greez sighed as he made his way to the galley to pour himself a strong drink, unable to relish in one of his biggest "I told ya so's" in galactic history. If anyone deserved to be happy after living hell they'd both endured, it was those kids.
But the timing of the confession and how it chose to emerge couldn't have been worse. Neither of the kids were in a good headspace and if he was being honest, neither was he. "This whole thing sucks bantha balls."
Cere rolled her eyes, absently patting BD's head. "Tell me about it."
"So, now what?"
"We wait, Greez. Be ready to leave for Jedha when they come back. It'll be my final charter."
The Latero saluted his old friend.
"Copy that. It's been a real blast flying with you, Junda."
Cere gave him a fond smile. "Likewise, Captain."
Greez scurried off to the cockpit calling for BD to run diagnostics while he made final, preflight checks. Cere stretched out along the couch, closing her weary eyes. They had a long trip ahead and she needed to be alert.
/
Stupid, stupid, SUPID!
Tears streamed down Merrin's face as she flashed around Koboh's rugged terrain in the embrace of her magical flames.
She didn't know where she was going or where she'd end up on this blasted planet. All she wanted to do was disappear into the shadows and never come out again. The last sentence of her heated rant kept replaying on a loop.
Why?! WHY did I say that?!
She never meant things to get this far. But they had.
She couldn't deny the truth any longer.
She, Merrin – Nightsister of Dathomir – was in love with Jedi Knight Cal Kestis.
And she just shouted out her feelings loud enough for half the dusty town on the flatlands below to hear.
She prayed the man in question hadn't been too close to hear that last part.
Oh, who was she kidding? They were Force-bonded. There were no secrets when one was that deeply attached.
All she wanted was to explore the galaxy and do some soul-searching while she was at it.
Somehow, she managed to hurt Cal even more and he didn't deserve that.
She prayed he would forgive her someday.
/
When Merrin finally gathered her courage and returned to the Mantis, she found Cal sitting in his usual corner deep in meditation. Her relief that he was okay was short-lived as he didn't bother acknowledging her presence or open his eyes.
He looked perfectly calm and composed on the surface.
But Merrin knew better.
High turbulence filled his end of their shared bond. Cold, heavy Force currents buffeted her as she tentatively tried to reach out. She stood there at a loss, unsure of what to do or say that wouldn't make this situation any worse.
Biting her lip, she bowed her head and turned her feet toward the cockpit, lead in her steps.
Cere looked up as she took her place in the co-pilot's seat.
"Good, you're back. Jedha awaits. Ready to do this?"
She spared one last glance at the rear of the ship, just barely making out the slope of Cal's broad shoulders and fiery hair. This wasn't how she wanted to part ways with the man, but it was too late to turn back.
BD trilled sadly at her from his perch on the co-pilot's console. Merrin gave the droid a gentle pat before turning to stare out of the cockpit's glass windows. She let out a heavy sigh.
"Yes."
As the Mantis hurtled through hyperspace towards the Pilgrim Moon, Merrin sank into her seat, soul aching and thoughts filled with an angry, heartbroken Cal who believed his family was abandoning him.
I'm sorry Cal. I have to do this.
We will see each other again.
Just stay alive.
-END
A/N: Well, loyals it's been a minute since I've posted new content but SW is cooking with gas right now and I can't wait to delve deeper into the Jedi: Survivor fandom. I might do several more of these, since there's SO much amazing material to work with!
As always, let me know what you think!