A/N: Attack of the wicked cliffhangers! Speaking of which, did everyone see the season three trailer? I'm super psyched about Thrawn, Pre Vizsla's saber...well, pretty much everything.

Next time: The battle for Atollon begins not with a whimper, but a bang.

Through the Daybreak

Part Seven

Truth be told, it takes Ketsu more than an hour to work up the nerve to enter the Ghost. She stands in the shadow of the loading dock, watching the moons rise above the horizon. At some point, a hulking Lasat passes her without really looking in her direction, carrying something clutched to her chest. Finally she realizes that the shape must have been a person, and surmises it must have been Sabine.

Later on, the apprentice goes to bed, his clothes strained from perspiration. As he steps through the open hatch, he sheaths his saber and sighs deeply, having spent a few hours working off some steam in the desert. Ketsu convinces herself that she's waiting for the perfect moment to break the tension between them that's been building over the course of many years. She waits, but none of her three companions exit the base, and a sign never comes.

Sabine is dozing off when she's suddenly shaken awake by the sensation of the walls of her cabin shaking minutely. Only one thing could have caused such a tremor. Reaching over her shoulder to turn the overhead lights up to fifty percent, she calls out, "Come in."

Truthfully, she expects it to be Hera. The pilot's always taken great care to tuck her children into bed every night when their mission allowed it, even though they were both nearly adults in their own right. The night before had been no exception. Laying on her stomach and propping one elbow in her mother's lap so her can press two fingers to her throat, Sabine had relished a familiar Rylothian lullaby. It was necessary that she memorize the melody before she forgot it entirely. All the while, Hera had stroked the space between her shoulder blades, only leaving when she was good and sure that her daughter was asleep.

Instead she's treated to the presence of a former friend, who can't seem to hide her anxiety behind a ramrod straight spine and a stony facial expression. After all their years together, Sabine knew Ketsu like her own mind. And she was wringing her hands and choosing her steps extremely carefully. "They've decided to have the troops stand at the ready just in case we're looking at an invasion."

Sighing deeply, Sabine throws back the covers and sits on the edge of her bunk, feeling incredibly exposed in nothing but her sleep clothes. But after all the trouble she'd gone through to prove herself trustworthy to the rebels, Ketsu was at least partly credible. That, and her blaster was mere inches from her feet should she need it.

"You're gonna have to slow down, Ketsu. I'm not that good at reading lips yet," she says, turning the lights up to full brightness for good measure.

Stiffly and somewhat awkwardly, the bounty hunter makes her way over to the bedside and sits next to Sabine. Once she's sure that she's got her attention, she repeats her statement and continues: "Phoenix Home is en route from Wild Space, but won't be in the system for another thirty-six hours. Once they're here, we'll have reliable air support."

We? Since when did Ketsu count herself among their ranks? Of course there had been a few times she's hoped that she could stop fearing for her life and the bounty on her head, but they were few and far between. Her rival's moments of compassion were brief and far between.

"Well, thanks for letting me know," she answers. Before Ketsu can stop herself, a grimace spreads across her lips. Sabine's voice was an octave higher than normal, strained, but still carried all of the sarcastic affectations.

She reaches for Sabine's hand, not hesitating when she attempts to pull away. "Listen, I only came here to help because of you. Whether you realize it or not, little sister, I still care about you."

Did her eyes deceive, or was that the nickname she hadn't heard for years?

"I'm glad. For a moment I thought you might have been trying to kill me."

Ketsu clenches down with her fingers. "Cool it with the sarcasm. Can't you see that I'm trying to apologize?"

The other girl disengages and clambers to her feet. "You could have fooled me. Besides, I'm never going to forgive you, not ever, for leaving me for dead in that escape pod in open space. I've seen you at your worst, your most heartless. As far as I'm concerned, you're just as bad as the imperials."

They were now at an impasse. Outside the four walls, the entire base was preparing for a battle that could end everything they'd been working for. Perhaps they only have a day left as a team before disaster struck. One day, and they were still arguing about the past. But that last statement made Ketsu's blood run cold.

She was nothing like them. They killed, pillaged and burned to suit their whims; she killed, yes, but for a purpose. For morals, for tradition...for a paycheck.

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness, Sabine. I'll probably spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. The fact is that I'm shifting my priorities. It can't be all about me all the time. It's got to be about something bigger than me, than you, than the two of us-I'm joining your rebels not just because I hate the Empire as much as the next person, but because I've never seen you so fulfilled. And if a life of hiding and covert operations is good enough for Sabine Wren, it's good enough for me."

Sabine was still trying to process all she said. Absently, she reaches for the scarf covering her scalp and pulls it to one side, revealing the network of cuts and bruises. Ketsu takes it all in silently, gaze pausing over the space where one ear used to be. "Please give me another chance," she implores, "You were my only friend."

"Things have changed," Sabine replies; it comes out more harshly than anticipated.

So they have. Ketsu clasps her hands together, searching for the right words. She finds them: "I still care for you like a sister. I'll do anything for you."

It's an egregious hyperbole; even she isn't sure that she means it. But she's given little time to think about it. Sabine kneels down and retrieves her blaster, placing it in Ketsu's hands.

"Prove it."

-0-

"It's going to be a long night," Lieutenant Snayder says as he plops down in his seat in the command center of Chopper Base. Normally he would be asleep as this hour, but orders from Captain Syndulla had shaken him from his bed. The twi'lek was a tough leader, but fair, and he didn't want to disappoint her.

Next to him, his Rodian companion warbles assent in his native language. Together they sat with the viewscreen trained towards the open desert, turret guns activated should they spot anything suspicious. Normally these were only used to take pot shots at dokma who broke through the barricades in search of their next meal, but now there was a serious threat of invasion by old enemies of their resident jedi.

Lieutenant Mishala, formerly of Naboo, nods and bends over the sensor readings that have just come in. She's a olive-skinned woman just out of her teen years who wears her dark hair tied at the base of her neck, having long since abandoned the traditional headdress of her world for a pilot's helmet. The newly designated Phoenix Six had been with the rebels for all of nine months, and already felt way in over her head. There was just so much to learn-which pirates to trade with, and which to shoot on sight, for example-and it didn't help that she held her current position due to the untimely death of her preceptor some months ago.

Dicer was a soft spoken Coruscanti woman with a kind word for everyone, and had really made her feel welcome. They had been roommates, and sparring partners. It was Dicer that had taught her how to fly offensively, unlike her former training in commercial airflight. Unfortunately, she'd been taken by a krykna to its underground lair and never seen again.

Her disappearance left a hole in the otherwise tight knit community of Phoenix pilots, who numbered several dozen under Captain Syndulla's direction. They didn't fly every mission due to health concerns; it was not uncommon for more than half to return home wounded or worse, but rather a handful of them stayed at Chopper Base at all times. It wasn't an exciting designation, but a comfortable one.

Suddenly Mishala curses and leans back in her chair. Lieutenant Snayder turns a curious eye to her, and she says, "A beacon's just gone out along our eastern border."

He clicks his tongue, then reaches under the console to retrieve her helmet. She catches it in midair. It was their practice that whoever spotted the discrepancy would be the one to correct it. This prevented any one of them from getting too comfortable in their seats.

"Take my speeder," he calls over his shoulder, "We'll keep the light on for you."

She was always surprised at how dark the nights are on Atollon. Once she's out of view from the overhead lights, the darkness is all consuming, as there's no civilization for miles in any direction. There's an outpost of lookouts on the southern continent, but she doubted they were awake at this hour considering the planet's tilt put them at several hours ahead. It's cold in the desert with the absence of the sun beating down on one's shoulders, an inexplicable chill that cut right through her uniform. Irrationally, Mishala begins to feel ill at ease.

At last she arrives at the malfunctioning beacon. Fortunately, there's no krykna around, but she places a portable unit near her feet just in case. She soon locates the problem: a faulty circuit. The tool kit comes open, the helmet comes off, and she begins to remedy the situation.

Somewhere behind her, she thinks she hears someone call her name. Whipping around, she calls out, "Who's there?"

Predictably, the answer is no one. Just opacity as far as the eye can see. Shaking her head and chiding herself for being so foolish, she bends down to her work, hands moving twice as fast as they were previously.

She connects the two new electrodes and shoves them back into the control panel, reaching to flip the switch. When she does, the entire arc of beacons goes out in either direction.

Her heart leaps to her throat, as she's now in almost complete darkness and the krykna could easily attack at any moment. They never found Dicer's body, and perhaps for good reason.

Overhead comes a brief flash of light; a breeze tousles her hair. Seconds later she hears boots on the compacted sand, nearing ever so closer. She doesn't need any more encouragement. Reaching for her comlink, Lieutenant Mishala prepares to notify her brothers in arms back at the base.

When Lieutenant Snayder opens the transmission, the only thing he hears is the whir of a light saber followed by a muffled gasp as the young woman falls to the ground.

(to be continued)