A/N: Hey, we're halfway done! Thanks for the support.

Next time: Some planning and some commisserating, on both sides.

Through the Daybreak

Part Five

The New Seeker has very few memories of her days in the Chalactan Adepts, but what she does remember was forever seared in her mind.

The Temple of Illumination was a grand building on a plain outside the capital city, full of wind and light. In the days the woman known as Saneetra Billaba had stayed there, it was a popular choice for civilians, scholars, and military men alike. The techniques taught by the philosophical order of mystics made one immune to mental and physical torture, something that would prove to be very useful in her exploits with the force.

In that time, she'd just settled down in her primary care practice and spent her days examining her patients for any latent force sensitivity. If she happened to stumble across one, the personal details would be passed on to her fellow members of the Inquisitorius and the child would often be stolen from their homes in the dead of night. What happened to them after that didn't necessarily concern her, though she always expected they were exterminated.

She'd gone to fulfill an order, but had wound up getting closer to the spirit of her mother. The jedi known as Sar Labooda had died in battle when she was thirteen. All they ever had to remember her by was a cloak bored through by blaster fire and her lightsaber, carved with ancient Chalactan runes detailing the tenets of the Adepts. It had been one of the few things Saneetra had stolen from their keepsakes as their family home burned. As she made her way down the corridor, dodging falling timbers and coughing into her sleeve, she'd spotted her father's fallen body just outside his bedroom. He lay face down in the floor paneling, and his clothes were burned beyond recognition. She could have checked to see if he was alive. If he was, she could have saved him. Rather, she turned and dashed down the staircase, meeting her new master at the front door.

Her days were filled with meditation and rumination over the origins of the universe, but at night while the other pupils slept she retired to the fields and battled an unseen enemy, the saber's green reflecting in her eyes. She was formally trained in The Way of the Mynock, as was Darth Vader's preference, but gradually shifted to Form VI in honor of her mother. Later, she outfitted the saber with two horizontal projections that would expand and connect together upon activation, so as to create coherence between herself and the rest of the Inquisitors. The spin and red color were only ever activated behind closed doors; on the oft occasion she could do so, she enjoyed sparring with her peers. Saneetra had been initiated behind a female Mirialan and a male Terellian Jango Jumper, making her the Ninth Sister of the Inquisitorius.

The feeling of the saber in her hand was indescribable. In her youth, she'd felt so sheltered, so silent, so weak. Now, she was powerful beyond words.

In the present day, the New Seeker was already looking forward to putting an end to Caleb's life. Every time she thought of him, she saw a bright eyed twelve-year-old, so indoctrinated into the ways of the jedi that he couldn't see he was being lead down a wrong path. All this time, he hadn't realized that the way of humanity was to allow themselves to be controlled by those in a position of power. He pursued the fruitless goal of rebellion. And he had forgotten her.

-0-

"I'm reading one Mandalorian signature," Hera says as they sit docked at one of the station's auxiliary arms, receiving a briefing for the mission ahead. "They're in the main section, whoever they are."

Sabine sat quietly in the copilot's seat, a blanket draped across her lap. She was following her mother's lips out of the corner of her eye, her attention mostly on her own console. The medic had been somewhat hesitant to let her out of his sight, but had eventually complied on the assumption that she would take it easy. The warrior had already been bandaged up to high heaven, but Hera had gone a step further and wrapped one of her headscarves around her scalp to hide most of them. That morning she had taken her first tentative steps with her brothers at either side, adjusting to the loss of equilibrium the accident had brought forth. Now her feet felt so heavy and the floor tilted under her every step, but she would grow to get used to it. She had no other choice.

"What are the odds it's Ketsu?" Ezra wonders out loud, leaning against the back of his sister's chair. She immediately lifts her head and looks over her shoulder, only catching the last part of the question. Then when Kanan spoke, her chin whipped around to gaze up at him. It was like a game where a ball was being hit back and forth, but more urgent.

"Pretty good," he confirms, watching the screen as the life sign begins to move. "Hera and Zeb, you two should check out the landing dock in case she decides to bolt. I'll take Ezra to the promenade. Does that sound good to you, Captain?"

The corners of her lips twitch at the formal address. "Yes. Everyone remember that we're here on recon. No explosions, no sabers, no life or death confrontations-"

"You're no fun," Zeb teases, propping his bow rifle against the wall. He tucks the proffered weapon into his belt.

Hera turns to her daughter. "Sabine, we need you to stay here and keep an eye on things. Chopper will be your ears. Under no circumstances are you to leave this ship. Do you understand?"

The girl nods, saying, "Don't worry about me." Her words are slurred, but decipherable.

Barely hiding her grimace, she turns her attention to the two force sensitives in the room. "And you two. I expect you back here in one hour's time, whether you've found Ketsu or not."

Kanan mock salutes. The droid warbles, his mechanical arms indicating his assent. And with that, they're dismissed, but before Kanan leaves the room, he draws his lover in for a long kiss. It had become their tradition, ever since Malachor. They never knew when one of them wouldn't return from a mission.

His apprentice averts his eyes, patting his sister's shoulder. She responds by winking at him and pulling the blanket to one side, revealing the blaster hidden in her lap.

Some things never changed.

-0-

Half an hour later, Kanan and Ezra sit in the outpost's mess hall nursing their drinks. It was less of a cafeteria and more like a cantina, if the low lighting and boisterous sabacc games at every other table were any indication. From the Ghost to the promenade to there, they had seen enough to know that this wasn't exactly a place one would go on vacation. Shady looking drifters and opportunistic thieves lurk around every corner, and the air is filled with an amalgamation of every unpleasant scent imaginable. It was the kind of place the Empire wouldn't deign to inspect, and that was why they'd chosen it for their trading ventures. It was also the perfect place to hide.

Kanan takes a sip of his Corellian brandy, cuts a glance to either side, and then passes it to the young man at his right. The pounding music and heady smoke is enough to give him a headache, so he didn't want to think what kind of state a less conditioned force sensitive might be in. Ezra accepts the cup with wide eyed innocence, acknowledging Kanan's silent demand that he not tell his mother. He then proceeds to sit back and almost drain the contents.

It wasn't as if he hadn't had liquor before-he and Sabine were known to filch some alcohol from the pilots and sit in her bunk, passing the bottle back and forth to forget their worries for a while- but he'd never had something this strong. He begins to cough and sputter immediately, which quickly drew the attention of their fellow patrons.

The jedi raises a placating hand to the partygoers, slapping his son heartily on the back until he recovers. Once Ezra quieted down, he hisses, "This is exactly why children shouldn't have alcohol."

Ezra was indignant to this statement. "I'm not a child anymore, dad. Next Empire Day I'll be-"

"You'll always be kid to me," he interrupts, staring down the sliver of liquid at the bottom of his cup. Or at least that's how it appears. "Don't look now, but an old friend is in our midst."

He doesn't look down to study the reflection in the mug as his master had, but instead turns around in his seat to discover that Ketsu Onyo is sitting alone a few tables away. What with her shaved head and decorated armor, she's difficult to miss.

"I told you not to look!" Kanan chastises, directing his gaze forward.

But it seemed that it was too late; behind them, the bounty hunter smiles knowingly and saunters over, sitting opposite from them. "Fancy seeing the two of you here. I hope this seat's not taken."

The young man had to suppress the irrational surge of anger he felt at her self-assurance. It was possible that she'd arranged for the deliver of the faulty grenades and was only here to gloat that she'd gotten away with it, or perhaps she didn't have anything to do with it. After all he'd been through, especially after Maul's deception, Ezra had a hard time giving anyone the benefit of the doubt.

"By all means," Kanan says, tipping his glass to her. "What brings you to this sector, Ketsu?"

She smirks, being sure to make eye contact with both of them. "A little business, a little pleasure. A stiff drink or two. What about the two of you?"

"We've come seeking information. There was an accident on our base, and it originated from the last shipment we received from here."

The bounty hunter clicks her tongue and takes a luxuriant sip of her drink. Then she crosses her arms and leans back, checking her surroundings. "Then for your sake, I hope it wasn't serious." Above Ezra's head, she makes eye contact with someone that interests her, winks and waves.

That was it. He stood up, slapping his hand on the table and leaning across it to get her attention. She flinches, but holds a neutral expression. "Sabine's deaf now because of it. I suggest you start caring a little for other people besides yourself."

Her features contorts into the strangest mixture of grief and surprise either had ever seen. It is enough for Kanan to discern that she wasn't their culprit, but he decides to push things a little further.

"You have two options. You either help us find out who did it and clear your name, or you don't. If not, know that we will not hesitate to follow you from one end of the galaxy to the other until we learn the truth. And I promise you, the second option will not end well for you." In the position they were in, he was not above making threats.

Ketsu appears to consider this, eyes wide with shock even though her lips were pressed in a firm line. Finally, she acts, leaning across the table to speak to them. "There's an unguarded access panel in a nearby section. With any luck, it should take us to the main computer core."

"Us?" Ezra echoes rhetorically.

She nods, pushing her chair back from the table. "Come on." The other two mirror this action and follow her out the door.

-0-

When Hera and Zeb return to the Ghost, they are surprised to find a familiar face sitting at their table in the common room. Ketsu's posture is confrontational, but she doesn't make a move for the weapon strapped to her side. In her hand she holds a data chip, the holoprojector filled with static before her.

Kanan and Ezra sit to either side of her, looking somewhat distressed. Upon their arrival, Sabine had come out of the cockpit, saw that Ketsu was with them, and swept right past them to enter her quarters. It couldn't be that she was still angry at her former friend, for this was the second time she'd agreed to help them. Perhaps seeing who caused her accident was too much to bear.

They had scrolled through endless footage of surveillance until they found something extraordinarily suspicious in a sea of mildly suspicious things: two cloaked figures approach a tradesman, impart something onto him, and then switch out a crate with something from their own vessel. Just as quickly as they boarded, they were gone, leaving not a trace behind.

Hera recognizes the pirate who took the bribe as one of the few who would do business with the rebels, a faceless associate known only as a code name. But now she was formulating a plan to hunt him down mercilessly, hands clenched at her side.

"Wind it back and pause it when they turn to leave," Kanan orders, and Ketsu complies. From this vantage point, they can barely see one of them in profile, horns and red and black skin…

Ezra shuts his eyes tight and leans forward. It seemed that no matter how far he ran from his previous indiscretions, he could never escape Maul. The identity of his accomplice was still a mystery.

Suddenly Kanan stands up and paces to the other end of the room, where he pauses and slams a fist into the wall, cursing loudly. His apprentice senses what he feels, some residual energy of a face from the distant past.

"Contact Ahsoka on Atollon," he orders absently. "Let her know that we have some prime suspects and we'll be back before their sunset."

With a few silent nods dealt between them, the crew splits to their various duties. Ketsu, who had spent nearly a year evading the rebels' attempts to recruit her, quickly makes up her mind. "I'll lead the way in Shadow Caster."

"Excuse me?" Kanan asks incredulously.

She stands and gestures towards the cockpit, towards open space and beyond. "I'm coming with you."

(to be continued)