I am a Jedi - The Tale of F

by RedDragoon2691

Based on the character F from Star Wars: Visions episode "The Village Bride." This tale will explore who she was before that event and the path she took to get there. Following the immediate aftermath of Order 66, F's journey will take her across the galaxy as she runs from the empire, with the burden of being the last of her kind weighing on her every day.

11. Chapter 11

-Episode 11: Regrets & Second Chances-

F stands in the middle of a luxurious white and blue room, a cool breeze coming through the room from the expansive balcony. With a beautiful view of the capital's many white towers, it was perhaps the most lovely room she's been in after months of roughing it on her ship. After all that galactic travel, F was pacing back and forth while Rei watched her trying to rehearse a proper introduction she hadn't bothered to think of. "Greetings, your majesty. I am a Jedi and wish to help your world…that doesn't sound right, does it?" To F's dismay, Rei shakes her head.

After waking up and taking in the fresh air of Alderaan, F accidentally startled the doctor, Eliash, who was checking in on her. Before F can ask where Red is or speak to an official, the doctor hurriedly leaves without saying a word. Left alone, F returned wearing her garbs, feeling more confident and relaxed. When she donned her black cloak and put on her silvery, songsteel rings, the doctor returned with her droid. "Rei! How are you fairing?" F smiled as the droid joyfully leaped onto her shoulder. Eliash escorted both to the room F was standing in now. Once again, before F could speak further, the doctor said her birthday had passed recently and that the queen of Alderaan would be arriving shortly.

Briefly, F thought how they never imagined spending thier 18th birthday with the queen herself.

It is why F is now practicing her introduction for the tenth time. "I came all this way and didn't even bother with a greeting?" she sighs, but Rei encourages her to try again. "You're right," F admits, "I should just calm down, be direct but cordial." Clearing her throat and standing tall, F says, "your majesty, I am immensely grateful to have been taken under your doctor's care. I'll get straight to the point concerning my arrival. I am a Jedi, one of the last of my kind, and I'm here to help your cause against the Empire…okay, better." Course, there's something else that's been worrying F after realizing she's on Alderaan, and that is how to justify her refuge.

Alderaan was in the middle of a delicate political position. With the fighting looking worse for the insurgent cells, refugees being caught in the crossfire, and several vital political leaders still under house arrest, Alderaan's overstretched shipping of aid puts it on thin ice. The Empire's shadow looms over Alderaan and its allies like Chandrilla.

But F holds on to hope.

She saw the Empire's weaknesses throughout her travels, both on the open battlefield and in the shadows. She's survived, evaded, and defeated their most formidable warriors. She believes the Insurgency has this same vitality as well. She wasn't naive to the fragile peace Alderaan has, but they're still a part of something bigger, something that can bring a real difference. 'I can't watch that become lost. I want to help. I know I can. My gifts can do far more good with the Insurgency than alone.'

Stretching out with her feelings, tapping into her potential with the Force, she sees the faces of those who aided her journey. Corde, Jiro, Sinta, Atawa, Lori's gang, Rei, and Red all believe in her. They relied on her even when F sometimes feared her power and doubted herself. "They believed because…they saw me as a true Jedi," she whispers. "Despite sensing the dark side shrouding me, whispering in my dreams. But, I also feel my light burning within, giving renewed strength through each of them." Putting her hand over her heart, she whispers to herself, "whatever happens, it was thanks to them that I made it. Don't waste it."

Rei chirps up, notifying F that the doors have opened. F turns her attention to a handmaiden entering the room, saying pleasantly, "Thank you for waiting, young Jedi. I humbly introduce our queen, Breha Organa."

F nods, signaling Rei to let her handle the meeting, to which Rei nods before moving to the other room. The little droid one last chirp of encouragement, to which F gives a thumbs up before standing formally. She clasps her hands together, relaxing while hearing footsteps approaching. The doors slide open, and there she stands, Breha of the house Organa, Alderaan's wise and influential leader, wife of renowned senator Bail Organa. She wears a royal blue metallic gown with slit sleeves and a beautifully engraved chalcedony necklace. Her hair was braided with a silver fabric into a ponytail, and she held a holo-pad. F notices two guards beside her, catching how Breha's posture and expression are collected but slightly tense. Her brown eyes stared back at F's blues, a keen analytical look to them expected from a renowned queen.

"Stand guard outside," she told security, "I wish to be alone with them." The guards and handmaiden follow her command, closing the doors behind her. Breha crosses her arms calmly,

F senses hesitation behind the posture change and responds by showing her respect. Bowing her head, she spoke, "Your majesty. I am immensely grateful to-"

"Why did you come here?" Breha asks directly.

"Pardon?"

"Please skip the pleasantries," Breha tiredly requests, "now answer, why did you come here?"

F throws aside her introduction and gets to the point. "I came seeking refuge and, respectfully, be a part of your cause, your majesty. As a Jedi, I can provide-"

Breha sighs, putting her finger on her forehead, "and that's exactly the problem we're facing." F stood stunned as Breha walked past her to the balcony, her posture showing worry.

F blinked, trying to process this, "the problem? Forgive me, but do I pose a problem, your majesty?"

"It's complicated. Everywhere I go, the empire watches," Breha says, collecting herself. "Despite the risk, I took you in. Especially learning of the massacre of your people, you desperate for sanctuary. However, matters are now at the edge of balance."

F's ears perk up, "wait, you know what really happened? All the misinformation is treating it like a vicious uprising, but you're not."

"I do know," Breha answers, turning to F with growing curiosity, "were you at the Jedi Temple by any chance?"

"I was," F says mournfully, "just before the army charged in."

"So was my husband," Breha reveals, once again surprising F. Breha looks out to her city as she recounts her husband's perspective, "he spotted terrible fires, so he flew over to investigate and provide some help. The troopers stopped him. Barely uttering a word before they aimed guns at him. Then a young Jedi sprung out and was executed right before him. He was forced to leave or die with him." Her last words uttered disgustedly before turning to F, her stern gaze now filled with sympathy, "I'm sorry what happened to your people, truly."

F gave a solemn nod to her kind words. Internally, she was surprised to hear of another soul seeing the truth about what happened that night and living to tell it. She's glad it was a powerful family like the Organas but saddened they've had to witness such a horrific act. Hopefully, they also tried to help any Jedi survivors, if any were left. "At least the truth is still out there," she expresses, "what did you mean by 'problem' initially?"

"I'm afraid that you standing here puts this whole world and my people at even more risk. I had to relocate a local official from this city because he began asking too many suspicious questions about who we brought, aka, you."

"Imperial agents are here?!" F gasps.

"He could've been a sympathizer, but both are equally dangerous."

"Is there no place to hide from them?"

"Sad to say, but hiding becomes harder with each passing week. It is why our aid to the Insurgency shrunk recently. Doing anything now with you here will be tougher, but not impossible. Besides, I could never turn a blind eye."

F felt her heart jump at such kind words, "thank you, your majesty. Truly," she says sincerely.

"Of course. Now we must deal with the hard part. If you are discovered, the Empire won't just send agents to eliminate you," Breha says concerningly, "have you heard what's been going on at Mon Cala?"

"I haven't, your majesty."

Breha hands F her holo-pad, which F discovers is an intelligence report with pictures of some humans fleeing into caves as if to hide. Breha gives her the short version, "the empire has its sights set on the world, fueled by rumors of not only rebellious behavior but now word of a Jedi influencing the government."

"A Jedi?" F whispers, her tone a mix of confusion and hope.

"As I said, rumors," Breha responds, unsure, sitting on the balcony's bench. "Nonetheless, it's enough for the Empire to take drastic action. My agents are now saying an invasion force is being built, possessing enough firepower to devastate the whole world if necessary."

F's eyes widened at such an idea, finishing her reading with an image of new and massive warships she had never seen before. Though the picture showed a piece of the ship, the guns were larger and held more devastating firepower than the Venators of the Republic navy. Looking at the city, bustling with life, she couldn't bear to imagine it all devastated by orbital strikes of such powerful guns.

"If Mon Cala's invaded over mere rumors, what's to say the Empire won't do the same thing here," Breha postulates, observing the land she's duty bound to protect. "Alderaan has not seen war on its soil for over a thousand years, and I will not be the queen that'll end that peace," she vows.

F sets down the holo-pad, her hopes for what the Insurgency could accomplish fading from the hard truth. Even if the Insurgency and Alderaan hold out against the Empire, how many will suffer? However, another part of F didn't want to accept a slow, quiet rebellion. She argued, "you're already at war by funding the Insurgency. The enemy is already on Alderaan, in your cities."

"So what then, declare an open fight?"

"I'm only saying that there's always another way," F clarifies, "one where you can continue directly supporting the Insurgents while keeping Alderaan safe."

"I truly wish that were the case, Jedi," Breha sighs, "however, we might be forced to compromise."

"What do you mean?"

"The enemy remains apprehensive, ignorant of our true operations," Breha shares, her tone tactful. "Careful strategy is why we maintain peace while quietly fighting back; if one wrong move happens, civilians will pay the price. So, to keep things this way…we might have to stop funding entirely."

"But that essentially leaves Insurgency forces to fight alone," F swiftly rebuttals louder than she expected.

"It's simply one option," Breha reminds her, "and funding the coalition has never been easy. It's more led by militia leaders than us. So only time will tell if this will be our only option."

"It shouldn't become your only option," F firmly states, remembering Jiro's words, "it's never too late. There must be another way."

"So tell me then, what is this third option?" Breha asks, showing irritation. "Give me wisdom on how to maintain funding and organize an entirely self-made coalition that hasn't even seen us."

"Maybe…" F mutters, trying to think of any plan for this dilemma. Several seconds pass before Breha sighs at F's lack of an answer. Though F hated not coming up with a solution, she did have a new question, "forgive me for being in the dark, but I was under the assumption that you formed the Insurgency. Why are we talking about it like it's a separate entity?"

"Because that's what it's always been, "Breha tells F of the truth. "The accusations against us are technically wrong. Alderaan and its allies didn't form the Insurgency. More like we stumbled upon it. We provided communication networks, military advisors, doctors, and funding. It formed by itself, out of a collection of sector militias."

"Several sectors just did that?"

"More like dozens. From previous separatist groups to entirely new militias like the partisans and liberators. They're cohesive enough to set up a hidden fortress recently. Alderaan and a few other worlds began funding these groups in the hope they'll naturally grow to something bigger, but…those hopes may have been false. Resentments from the Clone Wars are still very fresh in all their minds."

"But them still fighting also proves your hopes right. Why the eagerness to leave these people behind?"

"Why the eagerness to fight the Empire so carelessly?" she asks, "at the risk of millions of civilians getting killed? And for what, revenge?"

F responds rashly, "I'm fighting for justice for my people, not revenge! Nor am I insinuating Alderaan or its allies should be careless."

"And how far will you go to enact your justice?"

"I'll…!"

Breha sighs at F's slight apprehension, then offers F to sit beside her. Cooling her head, F respectfully does, noticing Breha staring at the sky. "Young Jedi, we both want to protect democracy and the people from tyranny. Sadly, we have few strong allies left. So as cynical as this sounds, the Insurgency is too weak, too few, too divided."

F clenched her teeth at the comments, even if Breha's input comes from a place of reason rather than pure pessimism. She's seen what even a few insurgents can do, warding off a platoon of Imperial troopers and saving her life.

"The Insurgents can't beat the Empire's army. Even the Separatists couldn't beat it," Breha continues. "Most people in the galaxy are too hurt and scattered by war. Each passing day has more galactic leaders siding with the Empire for the sake of order."

F lowers her head, shutting her eyes from these facts and the truth of the matter. F could feel Breha's eyes turn to her, "This is the reality we live in now. To lay low and wait for the right time. Do you understand?"

F grips her hakama in frustration with…everything. The Empire's sheer power, the core rim elites justifying its tyrannical actions, the Sith behind it all, and now even the Insurgency was dying faster than she would've feared. "So what then, leave this whole movement to its fate? How long will Alderaan stay quiet, and what's to say it won't grow subservient to the Empire over time?"

"We will never forget, nor will we remain silent," Breha swears to F, "but we must adapt to the changing world."

F saw where she was coming from with adapting. Her journey has taught her the hard lessons of learning to hide. She fought the dark side for thier whole life, fully committed to that mission and thier role as a Jedi. A peacekeeper that was never alone and had the Order's support in her fight. With all that gone, the forces of darkness now seemed almost unstoppable, and all F could do was adapt her training, hiding only within shadows. With the light of the Insurgency fading, what will this mean for her? Will she have to continue her fight for justice, her protection of light and life, alone? How long will she have to continue hiding in the dark?

Hope seemed so far away now, but F knew the fight within wasn't snuffed out yet.

F opens her eyes to the reality of the galaxy and says, "I understand that you want the best for people and fight back quietly, but I refuse to abandon the Insurgents and end my fight."

Breha pulls back, "I see," she sighs but doesn't frown. Breha merely looks surprised, "I must say, the perseverance of the Jedi in the face of tyranny remains inspiring. I wish more like you were this brave and selfless."

"But, as you said, it's not our reality. So if my views don't align with your mission, I'll understand," F says, dejected while expecting consequences for her stance. "What do you plan to do with me? You can't keep me here forever. Exile me perhaps and act like I was never here?"

"Don't be so quick to such assumptions. What happens next is entirely up to you," Breha says, catching F off guard. She then pulls out a unique-looking holoprojector, holding it up, "I want to hear what I should expect from your fierce prowess. I want to hear why we should risk helping you as the Empire bears its claws on our world. So breathe and be honest with me. I'm all ears."

'A test,' F realizes. Despite her protests, the Organas are still willing to help a Jedi while acknowledging that doing so would paint another target on their back. Her following words decide if F is worthy of that trust. 'Trusts still must be earned,' she reminds herself of her master's words,' I must be honest, even if it hurts.'

F stands up straight, facing Queen Breha as she begins, "what you should expect, your majesty is…a masterless but determined wandering padawan who still has much to learn." F pauses, hesitant to share further, but Breha listens carefully, letting her collect herself. So F continues, "they had everything taken from them. The guilt of being powerless while their home is destroyed imbalanced them. Wrathful emotions towards those responsible for the death of their family festered. They kept to the shadows, always on the run with their sleep plagued with nightmares repeating that terrible night."

F clears her throat as the memories of those dark times return to her, only able to push them aside through training until dawn breaks. "They felt suffocated, being on the run, hungry and alone. Barely able to quell her desire for revenge." F shuts her eyes when she's reminded of her companions, letting herself smile. "Despite those dark times, at first sight of innocents in peril, they still found the courage to stand back up and say, 'no.' Finding small allies along the way, reminding them of who they are."

F regretfully looks down at her hand; the one used to take lives when the dark side grew too strong and tempting. "Yet even this exposed another path to their heart for darkness to fester. They didn't back down from defending themselves or the innocent, but with every fight and every kill by their hand, this gave the dark side a taste of revenge." She clenches her fist, "but they continue to strike back against the Empire. Helping others, venturing into the stars, searching for sanctuary and a cause that could give them a purpose again. They seek this because… they're scared of relying fully on their power, knowing what they're capable of. If they go down that vengeful, solitary path…they don't know what they'll become by the end."

F feels overwhelmed with emotions, covering her eyes in case any tears appear. Besides her master, she was never used to expressing this much vulnerability to someone, let alone a stranger. F sniffs as she clears something off her eyes, noticing Breha look down, deep in thought. "I see," Breha says, "any final words?"

It took F a while to find any after sharing her story. Deciding to follow her master's advice to end a conversation with kindness, "only a thank you for your hospitality, Queen Breha." It got a small smile from the queen, who continued pondering her decision. F trusts that she would make whatever call is best for the broader cause, "Take your time. I'll ask your guards to show me another safe room." F bows and steps away.

"Stop," Breha commands her. F pauses, facing the woman now holding out the holoprojector to her. F couldn't believe it for a moment before respectfully taking the device. She clutches it tightly as Breha smiles, "We look forward to your service, commander F. Welcome to the cause."

Now filled with determination, F's eyes look up at the woman, "Thank you, I won't disappoint you," she says confidently.

"I know you won't," Breha nods, "Keep that fire burning within you. We will need that spirit."

F nods back, "I will."

"Good. Our communications are quick, but keep a low profile," Breha shares, walking to the door. "I'll have the doctor come to you to give any updates, but I'll be the one to give you an assignment. For now, you're free to roam this tower. Please don't go outside or draw attention to yourself. Only a handful of people know you're here, and I like to keep it that way."

"You have my word. I'll be as silent as the wind."

Before she leaves, Breha waves goodbye, "enjoy your stay at Alderaan," she says, closing the doors behind her.

F stood there, letting it set in that she had accomplished her month-long goal and joined the Insurgency. Even if it won't be the fight she hoped for, it still grants her a better way to help the people and the broader cause of resistance. As she pondered this, F wondered how such a path would affect her road to becoming a true Jedi. Though service to the galaxy was crucial to a Jedi duty, ultimately, the way of a Jedi was a personal, spiritual journey that required one to look within oneself while protecting the light from the dark side. F saw such a task as daunting for a long time, and she always found fulfillment and peace in defending the peace, though it has also got F involved in more violence than the Council would tolerate.

'War does not make one great,' F reminds herself while gazing at her lightsaber. Still, perhaps the path ahead will open new pathways that could mean finally getting rid of her dark side.

All F could do now was wait for the next course of action. She's done a lot to get here; a little break feels deserved. F sits down to relax her mind, realizing that she hasn't even checked yet what's precisely on the holoprojector. With a button press, it requests for a symbol to be installed first. F remembers how Sinta remarked about the blue markings of her mask, chuckling at how he called them fangs. She makes these blue markings her icon, the holograms change, and then requests a codename. Though F already sounds appropriately elusive, she didn't want to risk her true name spreading around. She decides on a name that's been very special to her since birth.

"Welcome commander 'Asami' to the Rebel Intelligence network," the device greets. F shut off the device and began her meditation training.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

[Coruscant]

Hundreds of speeders soar through the skyline of Coruscant. With its gleaming skyscrapers, the night city was lit with thousands of lights. The centerpiece of this view was the gigantic senate building. Hundreds of spotlights usually illuminated the ancient dome to convey its place as the beacon of light for democracy and liberty. At least, that's what it used to represent. Those lights were now off, leaving only an ominous shadow in its place.

Senator Bail Organa clearly viewed this from his luxurious suite while writing an important document at his desk. Such a large, comfortable suite would be seen as glamorous to most, but it might as well be a cramped, cold prison cell to Bail. He was a political prisoner and had been for dozens of weeks. He's still allowed on the senate floor and can roam the streets alone at certain times, but all outside communication was forbidden. Most of his allies were stuck in similar prisons, and most were freed a while ago.

Despite the circumstances and endless questioning, Bail was steadfast in his resistance, giving the Imperials nothing. He remembers how dangerous it was even talking to Riyo Chuchi about investigating Rampart's schemes. Though they could put him in a cell, Palpatine undermined thier victory by passing the defense bill. Nonetheless, he'd remain the rock others could lean on.

He was a kind, honest man to his people, allies, and even some enemies, but the Imperials mistaken these traits for weakness. Even now, they don't misjudge just how resilient Bail's mind is in the face of political punishment. However, if one thing truly affected the senator, it would undoubtedly be his longing to return to his wife and daughter. It makes the letter crucial, his only means of communicating with them since his imprisonment. Though forbidden from receiving anything outside, he was thankful to send some message to assure Breha that he was alright.

Every letter he sent showcased his devotion to his family and yearning to return home, which was all the Imperials saw before sending each letter off. Breha reads and treasures each message while occasionally reading something new. He could imagine her smirk upon deciphering his secret message, giving any helpful advice Bail could offer concerning their intelligence network and the Insurgency. Even within the Rancor's den, Bail finds a way to remain a rebel.

He quickly puts away his letter when a knocking is heard on the door. Upon opening the door, he's greeted by Imperial security guards and a face he hasn't met in years. "Harcourt?" Bail says with quiet surprise, almost not recognizing him with the Imperial uniform.

Montar smiles unnervingly, "Bail Organa, it's been too long." He signals the guards to stand guard outside, Bail stepping back as Montar enters with an ornate alcoholic bottle. "You were a drinking man, correct? Forgive me, it's hard to remember certain things about you," Montar says casually, grabbing two glasses from the kitchen. "Either way, this Antakarian Fire Dancer is a specialty here on Coruscant unless you no longer have the liver for it. Haha, get it?"

While Montar said all this, Bail was still surprised to see a man you knew since his academy days reappear as an agent of the Empire. "I knew you'd change if we ever crossed paths again," he said, "but to see you now wearing that uniform, why I almost don't recognize you anymore."

"Then you must've not remembered much about me either, Bail. Though I still remember enough about you. Recently, I heard you adopted a daughter and-."

"How could you divulge yourself to becoming one of these fascists?!" Bail interrupts him, it is unlike him to do so, but he wants Leia out of the conversation as possible.

It worked when Montar answered, "I've always believed that hard power was the path to peace because action is a powerful value. Yet you and every other Alderaanian believed otherwise." Bail saw Montar's old grudge reappear as he continued, "none of you understood that I wanted the same thing most treasured by our culture: Peace. Why should it matter if Imperial authority was the required means for that peace? I was brave enough to take that step."

"What you call peace is nothing more but a veil, Montar."

Montar sets the glass and bottle down with a smirk, "Seeing that we both still debate over the same old ideals, perhaps neither of us has truly changed."

Bail knew he was stretching out the discussion, so deciding to be direct. He says, "you're not the usual officer that comes by. What do you want, Harcourt?"

"What do I want?" Montear mutters to himself, and Bail catches a brief unsure look in Montar's expression. Montar admits, "that's a question that's been bugging the back of my mind for a while now." He gazes coldly at Bail, informing the senator, "the Empire believes Alderaan to be the leader and founder of the Insurgency. One prominent voice is keen on destroying this Insurgency, even if it means bringing the war to Alderaan."

Bail was no stranger to the tension around Alderaan nor to whispers of rumors of military intervention, and yet the news was no less chilling. He was briefly lost for words before uttering, "that is madness! Barely a year into its formation, and the Empire is ready to decimate a founding planet of the republic?!"

"Not all of the empire," Montar clarifies, "the Senate has yet to catch wind of this, and I heard no official word from the Emperor. Still, it's an idea I'm assigned to investigate and decide."

Bail feared this moment since he was at Padme's side, declaring how liberty and democracy in the galaxy had ended with thunderous applause. He's been hard at work since building upon Padme's last act of her political legacy, a rebellious underground network to honor her and keep the hope for liberty alive. Now all their work and what they're fighting to protect is threatened by a fellow Alderaanian. "And what about you, Harcourt?" he asks, "has the Empire already rotten your mind that you're willing to destroy our home for what you call peace and order?"

"After what all of you have done to my ancestral house, some would say yes!" Montar shouts back, the old grudge now fully showing itself. "I warned you ALL that the Separatist crisis will explode into a war. I only wanted our sacred home safe from a mechanical army that never slept. All I wanted was to help…and all of you called me mad."

"Not all of us," Bail said softly. Despite the twisted ideology Montar held, Bail remembers the respectable academy man Montar used to be, hoping that piece remains within.

However, Montar brushed off Bail, "Bah! Don't act so innocent. You and your wife were the most powerful voices of those silver-spoon simpletons. My house has never once requested anything from yours, and yet the one time we did, you two stood there and did nothing." With each word Montar uttered, the more each word was laced with resentment and utter disdain for Bail and his homeworld. "Though I suppose that's the traditional Alderaanian model, huh?" He says, "lie down, do nothing but say a few inspiring words about hope. Blind to the fact that pacifism is trafficking with the enemy."

Bail responds steadfastly: "We did say nothing because we believed militarism would only lead to more terrifying state-led violence. One look outside this window should prove my point. I speak for my world and family; we do not regret this stance."

"Hmph! And you all called me stubborn. Just hear yourself," Montar utters contemptuously, sitting on the couch.

"But…if there's one thing I regret, it was not intervening in the others' houses dissolving your family's status," Bail sighs. "The Harcourts were vital in the last sith wars, both in combat and diplomacy." Bail sits beside Montar, "if it's any consolation, Harcourt, I am sorry that your heart is filled with hate and your mind is compelled to restore your honor."

"A few years too late for such sentiment," Montar mutters, his brow twitching.

"It is never too late to say sorry," Bail says, "nor is it too late to change and to make a difference in your life." Bail sees Montar glance at him, the previous flair of hate gone for a moment and replaced with sadness. Bail hopes this means some humanity remains in Montar, that he could help him move away from such a horrid mindset and return to Alderaan. However, that hope was gone as Montar shot up from his seat and shouted down at Bail.

"Enough of this! For all your preachiness, I know you're no naive fool, Bail. You have your tricks, and I don't doubt creating the Insurgency could be one of them!" Montar yelled.

Bail remained calm, giving the same answer as his first question. "My answer remains the same, as Senator of Alderaan, I am not the leader nor founder of the Insurgency. I have been here the whole time, and Breha only has powers on internal planetary affairs, with any external planetary actions requiring majority approval from our assembly. We hold no connections, and these accusations are founded on baseless-"

"You're lying!" Montar interrupts, pointing at him accusingly, "and until you're finished with your little ruse, you'll leave me with no choice but to advise for an invasion! Do you want that for your world, Bail?!"

"Our world, Montar," Bail reminds, "and no, I do not want our world to suffer. Yet you are willing to because of simple rumors. Tell me, when they proposed the option for invasion did you accept immediately or hesitate?"

Montar pauses from the question. Soon Montar collects himself and pulls back on his anger. Bail has a hunch Montar has something else in mind. "I did hesitate, and that's what has been nagging my mind since," Montar admits as he walks over to the glass and bottle, "and I've come up with a possible third option."

"What do you mean?"

"We can spare Alderaan of the Empire's might if you tell me one thing: denounce the Insurgency by confirming that these terrorists are based on the colonial world, Faro."

Bail leans back in confusion and worries about Montar's implication, "What are you talking about? I told you a hundred times-"

"That you don't know anything, yes, yes," Montar sighs while trying to open the bottle. "Whether you're right isn't the point here, and honestly, I have too little time to care. What I do care about is you simply saying yes." With a loud pop, Montar smirks as he smells the alcoholic beverage, "recently, my men cornered a Jedi," he continues, "who only survived because of a sudden intervention by the Insurgency. Though they got away, my commander did have a droid probe follow them. It eventually lost them, but it did analyze the ship, discovering that it matched the description of a ship spotted by the world Faro a month ago. I believe this to be solid evidence that the Insurgency is based on that world, however…."

"What?"

Montar pours his cup while saying, "High command isn't quite convinced yet unless…" he pauses and fills Bail's cup, "someone of great influence confirms it, someone like you, Bail."

Bail stares at the cup, gripping his robes as Montar states his plan.

"We'll stage a false flag attack on Alderaan, you'll then denounce the Insurgency, Queen Breha will provide planted evidence, and I will give the order to pursue our best lead. An attack on Faro."

Bail grits his teeth before asking, "you want me to be a collaborator, to lie to everyone?"

"Please, Bail. A politician like you must have lied at least once," Montar chuckles, "think about it. The Senate will see you as one of them again, and the Empire will have to back off. You will gain credit for helping crush these Insurgents, with whom you affirmed multiple times you have no affiliation with anyway. Most importantly, Alderaan will be saved."

Bail felt sick listening to such a plan, a degraded tactic built off lies and deceit. "This False flag plan, what kind of attack are you talking about?"

Montar takes his cup and shrugs, "the Empire won't accept some small property damage," he says while drinking.

Bail finally glared at him, "you're planning to take innocent people's lives? Our people's lives?"

Montar scoffs lightly, "a couple of dozen lives would be necessary collateral damage for Alderaan's peace and security." Montar then pushes the Bail's glass closer, trying to incentivize him, stating, "think about it. Alderaan will thrive as the new model, imperial world under its new grand heroes."

Bail scoffs, "you see yourself as a hero?"

"I'm merely doing what's best for the Empire and our homeland," Montar proclaims confidently. His ego shows as he fixes his collar and states, "though I suppose you could call a man of ambition like me a hero. A new kind of man, a new Imperial man for future generations."

Bail sighs at such words, his fingers tapping while staring at the glass. He then stood up and took the glass cup, inspecting it as he stood beside Montar. His smile widened, and Bail could only feel one emotion toward his old colleague: disgust.

"An imperial new man…a hero who sends others to their death because they're too impatient of thier death in battle," Bail says to Montar's face, that smile now gone. "If this is your vision for the next generation of Alderaanians, teaching everyone to be this hero, then you truly lost your humanity, Montar." Bail pours the alcohol on a nearby plant, the contents causing the plant to die before Montar's eyes, a mix of shock and anger in them. Bail turns his back, too disgusted to even look at Montar anymore, as he declares, "your new man is nothing more but a monster in disguise."

A glass wizzes by Bail's head and shatters against the wall, but he remains unflinching even when Montar screams. "Follow my plot and denounce the Insurgency, now!" he furiously demands, his patience gone.

"Not at the cost of the people," Bail answered.

"Then what happens next will be in your head, not mine, you hear me!" Montar is exhausted of breath when he calls the guards to enter, suddenly swiping a letter out of one of their hands. "Take it," he says.

"What now?"

"Your release order."

Bail then froze, so shocked he almost thought this was a trick. However, upon taking it, he only needed to see one signature to know it was legitimate. "Palpatine, signed this?"

"Regardless if the invasion occurs, holding you and your allies is no longer to the Empire's or emperor's benefit. Besides, at this point, not even you could make a difference," Montar informs, turning his back to Bail while ordering the guards, "now get him out of my sight!"

"May I take my recent letter to my family?" Bail requests innocently, "It will mean a lot to them if I hand my last letter to them personally."

The clones did, and Bail proceeded to follow them out. He glanced at Montar standing in the dark before the doors shut. Bail was still processing these new developments, seeing now just how in danger his home and the Insurgents were. What it will take to save both will require time to answer, and time wasn't on their side. Whatever action occurs next, Bail swears it will not be at the cost of civilian lives.

As he boarded the ship, he eased his mind before smiling at the letter.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The sun shone brightly on Alderaan, the warm air gently swaying colorful leaves through the city skyline. Dozens of those leaves are pulled toward an open balcony, swirling gracefully by the Force as F meditates. It's been nearly two days since F joined the Insurgency. She hasn't felt this peaceful in weeks, with the world's life energy flowing through her. It's been too long since F meditated, and now it was vital for her. She hopes to find guidance in the Force, even a tiny sign to help her address the current dilemmas and how to rid her of the dark side.

Before, F employed essential meditations to rebalance the mind, remain attuned to the Force, and rejuvenate the body. Now, F is following another of her master's teachings, one that could aid in suppressing the passion of the dark side: the path of emptiness. "Stillness…the art of nothingness," F whispers as Master Hitoshi's words return to her.

"It is a road all Jedi must one day take. Let go of attachments, emotions, and even thoughts. Draw upon your heart, your light, without obstruction. This is the key to learning the living Force, one's place in it, and accepting it."

The warm air and the cool stone become numb to F while the sounds of the material world fade away. Soon, all F could sense was the Force. It's a concept and field of existence that was infinity, an energy that could take any form. F could feel that the Force was everything and anything: a harmonic song, an endless ocean, a beautiful tree with the deepest roots, a rainbow of colors, a calm wind, the pure energy of the universe, an eternal flame, and so on.

For F, it was like an infinite, vast, intertwined string of rivers, conveying how every living being's destiny is connected. Her destiny was one of them, and F could sense her luminous being once again floating serenely down this river, allowing the current to take her wherever the water or the Force took her. 'Open up, now let go.' F recites. However, the vast strings of her memories failed to be snapped. They cling to F without giving her a chance to relinquish them, along with the various emotions associated with each memory dripping into her psyche. All the pain and joy poured in like a flood, causing the tide to grow.

F felt herself rushing down faster as more water emerged, almost like an incoming flash flood. In fact, it grows to be too large, and a sudden wave submerges F.

Shocked, F feels the cold of the deep waters, falling closer to the dark depths. Floating between the smooth shore's glimmering light and the bottomless depths' chilling darkness, F sensed her inner imbalance drowning her. 'Air, the light is almost in my grasp,' F thought, her fingertips touching the surface, 'so why can't I get closer? Why am I barely moving?' The more F struggled, the further away the surface was as she sank. For a moment, F stops, seeing what would happen if she stopped struggling, but all this did was slow her descent. 'Why?' F wondered, becoming lightheaded from the looming darkness, 'I struggle and try, but I can only barely hang on. What do you want me to do?'

F senses a jagged rock incoming, but she cannot avoid it, crashing head-on. Leaves fall on F as she tumbles back, causing Rei to jump away from where she is sitting. F clenches a hand over her head, feeling like she was struck with a rock.

"Bweep?"

"I'm okay, physically at least," F assures.

She takes a deep breath, recalling the drowning feeling before re-centering her thoughts. "I couldn't let go," she whispers, "it didn't matter what it was. Be it memories too painful to ignore or others too precious to let go." F stares at the sky, twirling her braid in deep thought, "I am at least maintaining attunement to the Force; been days since I continued my routine. I almost forgot how serene and powerful it all was. What I can do now is insignificant to such untapped power, a power that can morph a strong river to a raging flood…and that's what the dark side wants."

"B-deep Bwoorp?" Rei asks

"Yes, a snack break sounds nice," F nods, helping herself to a bowl of star blossom fruit and pure Alderaan water. "I should stay more focused next time, such as seeking guidance. How could I do that?" F asks herself, wondering if she's missing something from Hitoshi's words. Taking a careful bite, F mumbles, "no, I can't be. Master can be cryptic, but he is more direct than other Jedi. Especially when it came to tempering the dark side. Perhaps it's not something missing but something I'm forgetting?" F ruminants on the question, shifting through memories for a more precise answer when a realization came to her.

"Memory…wait, is the key here from one of my memories, Rei?" F whispers. "Master did say that there are times when I can look inside myself for an answer. Perhaps this is what he meant?." It was a challenging prospect for F, to say the least. So much of her early life was blurry to her. The only memories that appear are the burning sakura tree and cries of mercy amidst a war. Merely thinking about them caused F to shiver, "I can't…there has to be another way…."

"The answer you seek, like the Force, could be in any form, young one."

Following Hitoshi's advice, F mentally pinpoints other factors in her life and key lessons her journey was trying to convey. "Perhaps…bonds like with Corde, Jiro, and Since or the energy of Worlds like with Ragoon or Aradia." F ponders, "but what do these have to do with taking the next step in my journey? What's the solution, a memory, a bond, a world to travel to, a person to find?" F huffs while tapping her heels for minutes.

Then an idea pops into her head. "Or all of them," F whispers, glancing at the bench and declaring, "just one more time."

Rei stands back and watches F get up and enter her meditative position.

After doing some breathing techniques, F meditates, focusing only on the Force growing around her yet unable to tap into what she's seeking. "Stop trying and just find it," F whispers, "a key that only I know…."

Once again, the material world fades, and F's luminous being draws closer to the Force. However, F sees a lush green and blue world rather than a boundless river. 'So familiar…yet unknown to me. Is this what I'm seeking' F thought before being pulled to the surface of this world. It was full of plant and animal life, its vegetation, unlike anything she had seen. F then sees an entire structure out of thin air, standing in awe as a strange Jedi temple appears.

It was unlike anything temple she had been to or read about, which appeared built from an ancient tree. A glowing green butterfly appears before F in the blink of an eye. F doesn't flinch as it flutters towards the Temple grounds, echoes of laughter and humming coming out of the butterfly. 'Hitoshi?' F wonders, following the butterfly as the lush environment morphs into different scenery, fading in and out between being a thriving community to its burnt ruins.

The once beautiful Temple suddenly appears destroyed, with fires raging from the wooden walls. F clenches her head, for the sight of these fires brings back terrible memories from the past. 'S-stop!' she pleads as flashes appear, a child left alone in the winter cold, warm hands taking her in, and a burning fire destroying everything with a shadowy figure in the center. F reaches out her hand, which the butterfly lands on. Feeling its warmth and calm light, the pain begins to subside.

After calming down, the being flutters in front of F, who asks, "who or what are you? What does any of this mean? How could it help us?" The light of the being brightens till F has to shield her eyes, opening them to see a cloaked figure, their face shrouded by their dark hood and cloak. F is frightened that it is a Sith until finding that beneath the cloak are gold, brown, and white Jedi robes, and garments.

These were no wears seen in F's time, so whoever stood before her now was very old.

Standing back up, F honestly states, 'none of this makes sense. My key toward balance should be a memory, bond, or something only I know I remember. So why don't I recognize this world, memory, or…you?' The figure continues to be silent, and F cannot discern anything to identify this being. 'Fine,' F sighs, 'People and whole worlds require more attention anyway. Please, I humbly ask for guidance on what I can do to help them. Countless lives are at risk, and we're low on options.'

The figure stays silent but does direct F's attention to the sky. Looking up, F sees old ships firing upon the world, but they miss their targets as smaller spacecraft flee to safety in the stars. The event fades away, and F is left asking, 'evacuate? But who, to where, and from what?" The figure is right before F in a flash and gently taps her forehead.

"Return and fulfill your duty."

In a blink of an eye, F is out of her deep meditation, utterly shocked and speechless. 'Why…why did they suddenly seem so familiar?'

"Master Jedi?"

F snaps out of her thoughts at the sudden appearance of doctor Eliash standing beside Rei. The twenty-year-old brown-skinned woman was worried, clutching a datapad. F heard she was a prodigy in providing medical care, hence being a doctor since she was nineteen.

"Are you alright?" she asks, Rei looking similarly worried.

"Yes, Eliash," F sighs, rubbing the part of her forehead where the mysterious figure tapped. "Sorry if I worried you. It's natural for Jedi to be in deep meditation."

"Oh, I see. I've never met a Jedi before, so that I wouldn't know," Eliash said, leaning closer to F's eyes. "I don't know much about Jedi, but I didn't expect them to dress as nicely as you do."

"Thanks?" F says, sensing some attraction coming from Eliash.

"Anyway, I was worried since my device barely picked up any breathing."

"It's because our very being is closer to the Force than the material world. That thinning tether would make it seem like we're barely alive to your tech."

"Wow, that's…a lot to take in at once, master Jedi," Eliash says.

"F is fine. Such titles are reserved for Masters or Knights. I'm nowhere close to either," F informs.

"I don't know. You looked pretty zoned out for a minute," Eliash chuckled before gasping, "Oh shoot, almost forgot! I came here to say that your friends are resting at the main building's hangar."

"Wait, Red is here?" F says in a delighted voice.

"Yes, Red and his team have returned from a mission, and we believe now's a good time to catch up."

"That sounds wonderful, thank you," F smiles, "please, lead the way."

It seems the sight of F's joy spread to the Eliash too. While they head down, Rei and F catch Eliash whispering to herself, "Oh wow, I'm escorting a cute Jedi too." They hear this and notice a blush on her cheeks before Eliash clears her throat, returning to her professional manner.

"Beep-Boo!" Rei says once the two were out of Eliash's earshot.

"I suppose you're right, Rei. She quite fond of my appearance," F replies, twirling her braid.

"Brwoop?"

"Well, yes, I'm flattered by the compliment," F replied thoughtfully, "especially since Eliash appears quite kind and considerate. Regarding how I feel back, it's never been more than mere appreciation of their charm, so long as it's appropriate. You see, Rei, besides my vow as a Jedi, I don't experience the same sexual attraction toward another woman as others would. Never struck me as something important to my life."

"Bweep-boop?"

"Definitely not toward a man," F groans, "for me, Rei, I simply found other forms of love and connections more valuable to forge."

"Bee-boop?"

"Those closest to me?" F repeats Rei's question. F's mind immediately recalls Sagiso, looking out on Coruscant one day, brushing a strand of her white locks behind her ear as her smile shines like kyber. F recalls her unforgettable, energetic, and resilient voice that projected one of her strongest traits: Courage. Feeling her cheeks warm up, F stops as she reminds herself of what happened to the broader Jedi, depressingly sighing, "I guess there was one extraordinary girl in my life."

F quickly tries to move on. It was difficult already remembering what had happened to her people. Recalling each face, especially those she was close to, like Hitoshi and Sagiso, only made it much more painful.

"Here we are," Eliash announces while opening the wide doors.

F is greeted by a large, chrome hangar packed with over a dozen small spacecraft-like starfighters. One of which F notices underneath a canvas is her Z-95, now refurbished. The hangar grounds were bustily with activity as dozens of Alderaanian workers, security, and even medical staff ran back and forth between small groups scattered about. Engines roar as a light craft ship docks down, and a wounded trooper stumbles out along with over a dozen refugees.

"Is this whole tower the operation center for your 'Mercy Missions?'" F asks.

"Basically, and it's still quite an operation. These days it's the refugee crisis we're dealing with, like saving refugees stranded in ships that ran out of fuel. That's shady smugglers for you. There's always something."

"I know the feeling," F sympathizes, remembering the dark, cramped ride to Aradia. F then sees the lone soldier collapsing, a doctor and medical droid quickly attending him.

"Sadly, sometimes even these missions come with a high price," Eliash says somberly. "We assigned six soldiers for that mission, not one."

"Eliash, we need help here!" the droid requests.

"And this looks especially bad. Gotta go," Eliash says with a quick wave of goodbye.

"Can I help?"

"Sorry, but low-profile, remember?"

F watches her dash away, disappearing amidst the moving crowds. 'A commander who can't even show their face,' F sighs, always disliking being unable to help others. She moves on and tries to find Red and his squad, questions about them swirling in her head the trek down. F almost didn't know which question to start with. One of the biggest was the presence of two other clone commandos, and if they're who she thinks they are.

Rei tugs her blue hakama and points at a group of three beside a ship chatting and laughing, with two donning commando armor. F smiled before her nerves set in, unsure of what to say, but thanks to Rei's encouragement, she walked up and said the first thing in her head. "Umm, hi there," she said nervously, giving a small wave. She immediately regretted this and wished she could do a redo.

Though all three wore helmets, F could guess they were gawking as their postures froze, staring at the fully recovered Jedi. It grew to be awkward for F after a few moments before the clone with a medic insignia blurted out, "Holy shit."

The pilot wearing a blue and black flight suit, leaped off from a pile of crates, putting both hands on her hips while approaching F, "Well, look who's back from the dead."

"You can say that again," the clone with blue markings whispers.

F leans back as the pilot stands in front of her. She notes how tall and older-sounding the pilot is. "Uh, hello. Have we met before?"

"Not directly, but you did hear me on the intercom," the pilot says before removing her helmet, revealing a fair-skinned woman with curly blonde hair and brown eyes. The middle-aged woman smirks, "name's Patricia, Captain Patricia Katarn of the Alderaanian Navy."

Patricia shakes her hand, which F shakes, greeting back, "I'm F, and thank you for your assistance, Captain Katarn. Your piloting skills must be impressive to evade Imperial forces."

"Eh, it wasn't that hard," Patrica shrugs before moving aside and letting the others face F.

Indeed, the distinct markings on the commando's armor confirm F's suspicions. "It is you two," F says, smiling, "and here I thought Red was the only one."

The two clones' postures relax as F takes a seat. "It's reasonable to assume that, after everything," the medic clone says before removing his helmet. The clone's hair was the standard issue military style, and he now has a well-trimmed beard and mustache. He sits up straight and salutes, "422nd Commando Medic Jye, under your command, F."

"Still so formal, Doc?" F says lightheartedly. "Thanks for patching me up. I like the new beard."

"Thanks, that's a change of pace from the usual scruffy comments," Jye says, giving an exaggerated stink eye to the blue commando across from him.

"We mean that in a charming way, Doc," the clone smiles, removing her helmet before fixing her short, braided brown hair and still dusting off ash and dirt from the last firefight. F's eyes widened at how much the clone had changed since she last saw her, though it was hardly surprising given past conversations. Her facial structure was now more feminine, showcasing her beauty. Knowing the process from past experiences, F guessed this was from Alderaan's quality medical procedure, and given the smile across her face, the commando was happier than ever.

All F could say was, "wow, lieutenant, you look incredible."

The clone grins, pointing at her face, saying, "that's Alderaanian reassignment surgery for ya! Best in the galaxy."

"I believe you," F nods, placing her hand over her chest, "it was the world recommended to me when I was much younger and underwent similar procedures."

Beneath her bandaged chest, F proudly feels faint scars beneath. Finally, feeling comfortable in a body beyond either sole gender was a liberating experience unlike any other.

F smiles warmly, "I'm very happy for you, miss…."

"Name's Ivy now."

"You chose your codename?"

"Yeah, never was the most imaginative girl," Ivy chuckles, "also, next time we go on a mission, I'm coming too. Whenever it's just you two, neither of you comes out unscathed."

"Yes, ma'am. I can also relate to picking a new name."

"Wait," Patrica says, "F isn't an operative title. That's your real name?"

Rei nods while digitally giggling. "Laugh it up, traitor," F sighs with an annoyed gaze, though she'll admit it has been a while since someone did a double take on her name. "Anyway, I'm looking forward to serving beside you two again. It's been a tumultuous time for all of us, but I'm glad both of you broke free from the Empire. Free to make your own choices on who you want to be."

"That means a lot, F," Ivy says, patting F's shoulder, "and tumultuous would be putting it lightly."

"Yeah," Jye sighs, crossing his arms, "it's been particularly hard for Red. Had to make some tough calls to survive, but it led us to and now to you, F."

"Where is Red?" F asks, glancing around.

"Went off to the communication center," Patrica answers.

"Probably got intel on deserted clones," Jye adds. "Even when it was three of us, he spent nights on the comms to help any clone looking to go AWOL."

"I believe you. He discussed it on Brentaal," F shares, "I sensed great concern and sadness when he talked about his family."

"I get his concern," Ivy adds, "after Kamino's destruction, our future seems bleaker than ever." She grips her hands together as old resentment resurfaces. "If you want my opinion," she says, "any future without any Kaminoans and Imperial eugenicists freaks involved is good to me."

F nods in understanding. She can imagine Ivy's grudge against the Empire's and Kaminoans' xenophobic culture affecting how she's been treated and viewed for years.

"To think it was in our heads the whole time," Ivy whispers, brushing her fingers through her hair toward a small scar on her scalp.

The brief glimpse of it causes F to remember, "oh right, Red mentioned something about chip's befo-" she stops upon sensing a recognizable presence, "Red's here."

Right on time, Red enters the hangar and approaches the group.

"Whoa, that never gets old," Patricia says. F finds her choice of words interesting, as if she's seen a Force user before. Still, she puts it aside when Red arrives.

"Alright, break time's over- '' Red stops when he spots F. "Well, look who's finally awake," he delightedly says before raising an eyebrow, "you still have bedhead there."

"N-no, I don't," F scoffs but subtly glances at Rei, who quietly confirms she doesn't, and he's just messing with her.

"Good to see you back on your feet," Red smiles, taking a load off and sitting amongst them, "I'm sure the others said the same thing."

"They did," F nods before clearing her throat. Now that all three of her old comrades are here, F decides to be direct and asks, "forgive me for being forward, but how did you all break free of Order 66? Each of you mentioned something about chips. Was that what I was sensing from the Purge Troopers?"

"Purge what?" Jye and Ivy both say, turning to Red, who is silent and has a sullen look in his eyes.

Patricia glances at all four of them, suddenly carrying a serious look in their eyes, then loudly clears her throat. "Yes?" she says, tapping her ear despite no earpiece, "on my way. Hey, I suddenly got orders from upstairs, and this feels a bit personal, so I'll show myself out. Nice meeting you, F."

"You too, Captain," F nods as Patricia leaves. Now it was just the four of them, and after some shared looks, it was Red who spoke first.

"Alright, where do we even start with this?" he says, genuinely at a loss for what to say.

F feels she may have asked too soon before Ivy gives a small push, "how about from the beginning, Red?" she asks.

Red removes his helmet and looks at it before reciting the tale. "We were on Toprawa," he began, "deep in Separatist space and stationed at the frontlines with local allies. I remember staring at the enemy-held city while standing in the middle of no man's land. A sudden feeling in my gut that the war would soon be over. Very…very soon."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

It seemed like any other day of the war.

Another day of winter, another day in the cold.

Another day of peace, another day of battle.

Another day of rest, another day for orders.

It should've been like any other day of the war.

An endless sea of dense mist coats the battlefield, the sun barely appearing as Red and his commandos return to their muddy trenches after hours in the marshes. Trudging down the windy, wet trench, the team passes by over a hundred clone troopers in attack positions and waiting for orders. Red and his team make it to the FOB fortification, where his Jedi commander waits anxiously.

The young adult was pacing back and forth in the dark, with the room illuminated by a few lamps. She and each clone inside turn to gaze at Red, "Well?" the commander asks as Red takes off his helmet.

"It's what I thought. There are barely any droids defending Salik City, and they possess few heavy armaments. I suggest we seize this opportunity and launch the attack. The Antarian Rangers are already in a position to the north."

The Jedi's expression turns dower, biting her finger while intensely thinking of what to do. "A-are our communications relay back up?"

"Negative, commander," the clone on comms replies, proceeding to mutter out, "after the tenth time you asked."

The Jedi sighs, wincing as she announces, "I can't press the attack without approval from Master Junda." The silence from the other clones was deafening. "It'd be dangerous to attack without her forces! And we can't coordinate if we're still cut off," commander Trilla Suduri insists.

"Ma'am, I understand wanting to follow procedure," Red says, "but the longer we wait, the more the city's occupation will hurt our advance and the people in there."

"Then give me a bit more time to meditate."

"Or perhaps you need to have initiative," Red pushes, "final orders, commander?"

Suduri sighs heavily, "not after the last attack," she whispers. "Hold your positions and watch out for enemy snipers," she announces before walking up to Red. "I'll be at the local temple. The younglings have been acting more scared lately," she tells him before leaving.

Red sighs but notices all the other clones still standing around. "Well, you heard her. Return to your posts!" Begrudgingly, each clone follows orders, his team annoyed while leaving, except for Ivy. The two talk out as whistles echo across the entire frontlines, forcing hundreds of visibly frustrated clones to return to their posts.

Once away from other soldiers, Red takes off and slams down his helmet, "I can't believe this," he says.

"Hey, you saw it yourself. The enemy's defenses aren't getting any stronger," Ivy tries to reason. "And, as Suduri said, she needs more time to think of a strategy. Her last attack on the western fortress had an almost thirty percent casualty rate for the 4th attack battalion. Jye had to work triple time to keep dozens of those guys alive."

Red pinches his brows with a frustrated groan, "Yeah, I get that," he relents. "It's simply irritating how slow her strategies have always been."

"You're starting to sound like Frost," Ivy says cautiously.

"Yeah, suppose I understand how he feels now."

"But ever since he got promoted, his strategies have been dangerous too."

Red nods, understanding what Ivy's saying. Frost has increasingly been gaining respect in the regiment for his decisiveness, but his defiant attitude to the commander has become worrying. If the war continues, there will be a day some clones will defy orders and follow Frost to battle instead. As Major, it was Red's responsibility to maintain the command structure, especially with rumors of some clone units growing increasingly distrustful of the Jedi.

"I'll try to find a compromise between the two, and I won't let this regiment break apart when we're so close to the end," Red swears.

"Those are just rumors, Red."

"I know. I simply hope this doesn't spiral into something worse. I think the war is really beginning to affect both Frost and Suduri."

"We've all grown tired and restless by this war," Ivy sighs, patting Red's shoulder as she heads out. "I'll check on Jye to see if he's down for some grub."

"Yeah, food sounds good right now."

After splitting up, Red grabs two plates of…some brown mushy stuff. Even with the end near, the cost of the war has grown to the point that they can't even have decent food, only manufactured goods to fill their stomachs. Red trudges to lines until reaching a grove of trees beside a cliffside with a large river below. To be precise, this was the rest spot for their reserve troops, Rho and Zeta companies. Most mainly slept, while others operated on computers within tents or rummaged through crates for extra ammo.

Near the cliffside was the man he's been looking for, plopping down a sleeping Frost before shouting to his ear, "Hey, Frost!" He gets a chuckle from Frost's freaked-out look, followed by an annoyed glare, "Sweet dreams?"

"More like a nightmare," he grumbles.

"Then perhaps some quality slop will do you some good."

Frost looks at the food and sighs, "the attack's still on hold, isn't it?" Frost swipes the food, continuing while eating, "let me guess, she got cold feet again because her precious master isn't around."

Red barely touches his food, instead focusing on the conversation. "Given what you and the 4th battalion say behind Commander Suduri's back, I'd expected you to be happy not to battle with her."

"I'd be happy if she weren't here at all," Frost says with utter distaste.

Usually, Red would warn Frost of insubordination with such a comment. However, he can tell what the source of this was. "You miss them, don't you?"

Looking out to the powerful river below, Frost stops eating, saying, "F being gone would go down easier if we weren't constantly stuck with incompetent Jedi." Red worry for Frost grew, he truly understands his frustration, but the Jedi, like F, have good intentions with their actions, even if they don't translate well to battles. In Red's eyes, it has gotten them this far, and he can't let a few stumbles erase the prior years of fighting.

"Still baffles me the Jedi before Suduri got killed from a stray blaster bolt," Frost continues, "If we can't rely on powerful Jedi anymore, how many more of us will die in the final minutes of the war?" Red didn't have an answer. The fear of death was a look he's been seeing more often among their ranks. "For all we know, the enemy now is prepping a possible counterattack," Frost warns.

"Then we'll deal with it like we did every other battle. It's in our blood to adapt and survive," Red replies, "and I get it. We're so close, yet everything looks much darker. I think the Jedi feel this too and are just as tired of this war as we are."

"Not me," Frosts rebukes, standing up while gazing at the lush landscape. "I'm staying in the army to protect these lands and ensure these separatists never forget the brothers they took from us."

"Easy there, Frost. Remember what F said about-"

"I know what they said!" Red flinches from Frost's outburst. He stays silent while Frost sits back down, a dower behind his dark eyes. "F was the last Jedi to care about us truly," Frost whispers sadly, "now it seems the Jedi only care about themselves. The commander is more concerned about those bratty younglings and separatist traitors than us."

"She cares about those kids the same way we look out for each other," Red argues, "and those 'traitors' are only refugee civilians we are ordered to protect. That protection includes helping restore a sense of order and normalcy to their lives through means outside of fighting."

"And that's alright for a few days, but we've been on this blasted field for over two weeks. We were trained for battle, not babysitting! If F were here, we would be making a real difference."

"…we've all had a rough time," Red admits, looking out to the distance with Frost. "But we shouldn't look at our commander or these orders as a tarnish to F's name or ours. Good soldiers follow orders, no matter what. I mean, weren't those the first words we learned?" Frost's posture didn't change, so Red continues, "Heavy mistakes were made, yes, but F wasn't perfect either. F never forgave themselves for any losses, and I'm certain Commander Suduri feels the same."

"...I suppose."

Red smiles at the comment, patting Frost's back, "we have to move on eventually…and I think that'll happen soon."

"Dooku's death, I heard about it," Frost mumbles. Red takes his bowl and begins walking away. "Do you think you could leave all this behind, Red?" he says, causing his brother to pause and ponder for a long moment.

"I could confidently say yes…but then I'd be lying to you," Red says, still unsure if he could ever have a normal civilian life. "Still, I suppose it wouldn't hurt trying to be a farmer. Maybe I'll have a knack for it."

Frost stands up and tells him, "Eh, it's you. It should come easy…."

"Thanks," Red smiles until a clone shouts in the distance.

"Hey! We just got new orders!"

Suddenly a hundred clones get up, and the two brothers walk to the main communication tent with a hologram machine out in the open. Red asks, "is this from General Junda?"

"We don't know, never seen this transmission code before," the clone on the computer says. Dozens of clones huddle around the machine as the machine projectors the hologram, a person Red figured would be the last person to communicate directly with them.

"The chancellor?" He whispers.

The cloaked man turns his dark gaze up. Red felt the man was looking directly at him and Frost as he uttered only three but unknowingly powerful words:

"Execute Order Sixty-Six"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Sidious…" F utters, fearful and angry at the thought of the Dark Lord of the Sith, but the clones look confused. She clarifies, "that's his true name. He's the Sith the Jedi had been after for over a decade."

"A Sith like Dooku?" Ivy asks.

"Correct, but even more powerful."

"Makes sense. Only a Sith could've caused this," Red comments, "when he said those words, it was like…like…."

"Like we became a different person," Jye expresses. "All our emotions except hate, fear, and aggression were suppressed. We felt nothing to the Jedi or anyone deemed an enemy."

"It was like Frost told me once," Red says, "being trapped in a nightmare. Barely aware of what you're doing, feeling powerless, and all you can do is run till it's over."

"But how did you all fight it when countless others didn't?" F asks

"Partially, it was our genetic makeup," Jye brings up, "we're commando clones, designed to be more creative and adaptable with our strategies."

"Different but definitely not any better than other clones. Certainly didn't make resisting much easier," Ivy sighs, "from the moment he said those words to the day I got my chip removed, it was like my head was fighting off several voices at once. Compared to us, Red was especially lucky."

F asks, "what do you mean?" Then a small metal ding is heard by F. She looks at Red, who is knocking on his right temple, reverberating a metal ping with each knock. After some confusion, F gasps, "you're metal implants!"

Red nods, "that heavy shell attack during Jabiim almost killed me…but ultimately, it saved my identity that day."

Jye gives his medical opinion, "it blocked off the activation of the chip, so when he said those words, he only experienced a bad headache and general confusion."

"In short, we were lucky and fought with our entire fiber to stay who we were," Red summarizes. "Heh, and you know I like to think it was because of you. We were just another commando until meeting you. You reminded us that we're more than just soldiers but our own persons."

F looks down with guilt, "but I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

"Given what happened next, it was best you weren't," Red says honestly, "after the message…everything went to hell."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Ahh, my head," Red mutters, clenching his head before the migraine and hologram fade. Catching his breath, Red asks, "what the hell was that?"

"It…shall be done,' Frost whispers beside him, putting on his helmet.

"What are you talking about, Frost? What's Order…" Red asks before realizing every clone is donning their helmet and retrieving their weapons.

"You heard the Chancellor!" Frost shouts to both companies, "drop everything and pick up your weapons. We got orders to follow." Red stood utterly confused when two soldiers marched to Frost, ordering them, "Dash, Charger, radio in the rest of the regiment. We all need to coordinate for this to work."

After the troops salute and leave, Red barely mutters, "What…?"

Finally, Frost turns to him and asks, "Major Red, you were the last to see Sudilla. Where'd she go?"

Red looks back with great concern, "Why do you need to know?" he asks, soon feeling the gaze of dozens of clones on him.

"Red," Frost says, cold and emotionless, "tell me the location of Sudilla and younglings so that we can discreetly surround and eliminate them along with any Separatist traitors."

Red eyes filled with shock at what he was hearing.

"We aren't letting anyone in this forest out alive. Do I make myself clear!?" Frost shouts to the companies.

"Sir, yes sir!" the clones chant with complete obedience.

'What's wrong with him…what's wrong with everybody?!' Red thought lost for words at the nightmare-like scenario he was in. He grits his teeth, curses himself for leaving his rifle, and packs on the cliffside. Subtly, Red takes a step to the cliffside until Frost returns his gaze.

"Major Red, you heard the orders, didn't you?"

Red takes another step, saying, "No, I-I don't think so."

Frost stepped forward. His hand was already on his side blaster, "Remember the nightmares, Red. We've trained for this."

Red stops, clenching his head, uttering, "My…nightmares?" Flashes of several nights, he's woken up scared, terrified at the mere thought of gunning down F.

"Major!" Ivy's voice echoes from Red's comms, snapping him out of it. "Ahh, my head…what's going on?!"

Red breath shudders, but he shakes the nightmares away, taking another step back, saying, "No, those nightmares were just that, nightmares."

The crowd of clones grows, encircling Red until it is just his back to the cliffside. Frost shakes his head, "no, Red, it was all real. We are to eliminate the Jedi order, and if anyone, from civilians to even clones, interferes with this order, then they shall be eliminated mercilessly." Frost briefly lets go of his holster and raises his hands, "are we clear on this, brother?"

Red was a foot away from his blaster and three feet from the cliff. He could feel the mist below hit his hair and armor. He stares at his brother as the headache feels like it is returning, and he shuts his eyes. A deep pain stung his brain and heart.

"Argh! Orders, Red!" Jye shouts through his comms, "Something's not right!"

Red sucks in a deep breath, clearing his mind of the nightmare. His lips twitched, stuck together until he pried them open with his answer, "No."

Frost flinches back, "N-no?"

Red's eyes shoot open. He kicks his rifle into his hands and aims at his brothers, declaring with all his heart, "NO!"

The dozens of clones flinch back as well before hurriedly aiming their blasters.

Red shook his head at them, "are you all even listening to yourselves?! We're being ordered to persecute the allies and civilians. We were sent here to help. What justification is there to kill the Jedi, to kill kids?! Because one man told us they are suddenly traitors?!"

Frost's hands return to his holster as he responds, "this man is why we exist in the first place! This has always been what our duty and purpose have been building too. It's how we'll finally prove that we're all worth a damn!"

Red pleads to them, trying to appeal to their humanity, "Frost…everyone…this is wrong, this isn't us."

Thinking, Frost stares down for a while before giving his final answer. "This has always been us, and if you don't realize that, then…you're a traitor to the republic and your very family."

Red experienced dozens of pains from the countless battles of the war. Out of all the physical, emotional, and mental pain experienced and seen in his life, none compared to the sheer despair of hearing this from his closest brother. His breath quivers and his hands shake as he struggles to keep himself together. Feeling more scared now than ever, Red puts on his helmet to stay focused in these next crucial seconds.

Dozens of zips come from the clone's rifles and carbines, ready to fire until Frost commands, "No…I'll do this myself."

A cold gust of wind hollows through the valley as the two brothers stare down in a duel to the death.

Red's finger twitches over the trigger as Frost's fingers remain steady. Red feels the rock below begins fracturing, the fall below easily over twenty feet, with little hope of survival. Feeling the end near, Red says, "Frost…don't do this, brother."

"It's like you said, brother," Frost tells him, "good soldiers follow orders…no matter what."

Red's grip on his blaster tightens, the moment of truth approaching. Suddenly, a voice rings from Red's wrist comms that surprises everyone.

"Major Red, why is there radio silence?" Suduri asks worriedly, "what is going on out there?"

Red glances at the comms, looking back up to see Frost distracted. He could take the shot right now…but what would that do but lead to another dead brother. He takes a short breath, lets go of the trigger, and follows his duty to the Jedi.

"Run to Cere!"

Frost unholsters his blaster and fires, the plasma bolt impacting straight to where Red's left eye is. He feels the burning sensation of the plasma rippled across his eye, skull, and brain, then suddenly nothing as he passes. His body tumbles back and over the tall cliffside, vanishing before his family's eyes as he plummets, his limbs lifeless as he crashes into the roaring river. The last physical sensation that struck his nervous system was the freezing water pouring into his armor and helmet. The heavy armor caused him to sink into the darkness, fading away until no sign of him could be seen, the river taking him completely.

"After that, I felt the cold overtaking my body. That freezing, gushing water filled my lungs before I felt completely numb. My last conscious thoughts and feelings were fear. I was more afraid at that moment than anything I faced in the war. I didn't believe in any higher power, but at that moment, the only comfort I had was the Jedi's words that there was no death."

"Then, a miracle occurred…."

"Red!" Ivy shouts, tiredly pulling him out of the river with the help of Jye a few kilometers down the river.

Jye quickly checks his wound and breathing. After removing Red's chest plate and pumping his chest to get the last water out, he says, "He's stabilized. Red, can you hear us?"

Red's teeth shivered, but he could only breathe, quivering, "I-I can't see."

"He is alive, even able to talk, but that eye's finished, and this wound is gonna get worse," Jye warns.

"What can we do?" Ivy asks, "there are clones already in these woods!"

"Uhhh…The Antarian Rangers! They're about three klicks away."

Red's whole body was shivering, but he was able to let out, "J-Jedi…the y-younglings!"

"We…" Ivy whispers, "we can't just leave them."

Jye gives the hard truth, "We're in no shape to fight, and we're outnumbered. We have no intel on where they are, and he'll be dead before we find them."

Ivy pounds her fist to the dirt, cursing herself before whispering, "please, forgive us, Suduri." The two picked up Red as the sounds of other clones drew louder, "we got you, Red. Just hold on!"

Red eyes his one good eye, seeing the world again before glancing at the river. Kilometers ahead, he sees the cliffside and remembers what happened. "Frost…" Red whispers, his fingers reaching out, "no…gotta stop F-frost!"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

F sat frozen in her spot, absorbing the shocking, tragic tale as her comrades finished the story. She places her hand over her mask, taking in a sharp breath at the pain each went through, seeing their family turn against them and call them traitors. She covers her eyes, wiping them of tears after sensing the cascade of emotions each felt on that heinous day, a memory that will remain deep in their psyches for the rest of their days.

"We told the Andarians what happened," Red continued, his voice low and gloomy, "after fixing me up, they gave us a ship to escape on. None of us knew if the Jedi were alive, and our search to locate them was fruitless." Red shuts his eye, grazing his eyepatch, as he finishes, "after we found out what the clones did to the refugees, I gave the order for us to leave."

"We were lost for a while," Jye spoke, "deserters of a vanished Republic and disowned by our own family. It still haunts me."

Once F clears her eyes and catches her breath, she whispers, "I know what you mean…."

Ivy's fingers grip her knees, a look of perseverance in her eyes. "But we had to stay strong, and Red was the one to give us hope," she says, "if it weren't for him, we never would've discovered the Insurgency, joined Alderaan and removed our chips." Ivy looks distant as she touches her face, "It would've been far harder for me to look and sound like who I really am."

"Don't give me that much credit, Ivy. Be proud of yourself for going through it," Red says, "after seeing my closest brother turn on me…I was terrified of losing you two. You were the only family I had left who didn't want me dead. And now that includes you, F." Red looks at F with a faint but enduring smile.

Those words touched f's heart, and looking at all four of her companions before her, F suddenly didn't feel alone. "You all went far and beyond protecting each other, even breaking Sidious' control," F proudly tells them, "I'm certain your attempts to help the Jedi were not in vain."

Then, they all turned silent, unsure what to say after reciting such a story. F then senses Ivy wants to break the sad atmosphere.

"You should've seen my face when I spotted you, F. It was like seeing a ghost," Ivy lightly says, forcing a smile. "Hey, Doc. What did Red say next after his orders?"

"Okay," Red sighs, picking himself up, "I don't think we need to hear-"

With a sly smirk, Jye answers, "Oh, he definitely walked into his room and cried!"

"Shut up, did not," Red refutes, now clearly annoyed, "I was merely experiencing symptoms from some sickness."

"Aww," F smiles, her hand over her chest, "Red, that's so touching. It means so much that I'm important to you and all of you."

"I know," Red mumbles, "but of course, these two must be annoying about it."

"Hey, a Red crying in his natural habitat is a rare phenomenon," Ivy reasons, "and as your siblings, it's our duty to annoy you about it."

Red scoffs, "laugh it up, you two. You just earned yourselves a six-kilometer jog up the hill."

F crosses her arms as Rei giggles from the sibling banter, saying, "some things haven't changed with you, Red."

Red smirks, but it is brief. His gaze turns serious as he sits beside F. "Now's the time to address the other bantha in the room. F, how are you alive?"

F gaze was downward, but she sensed the other looking at her. After hearing their story, she knew it was only fair for them to hear hers. "I was at the Temple when it happened. I got out and hid in the underworld for three months when I found a ship-"

"That's not what we're talking about," Jye clarifies.

Red asks, "what happened to you before the war ended? Why did you convince everyone that you were dead?"

F's eyes widened as she stared down at her songsteel heels, her body frozen stiff.

"Red saw your 'body' be buried at the Temple. Every Jedi did," Ivy says, "why did you do it?"

F brushes her fingers on her braid, now nervously, as she senses the dark side echoing in her mind. She couldn't look at them in shame of what she did, what she had others go through, but F found the will to give an answer. "because I failed everyone," she timidly says, "I've fallen…and I've been seeking balance since."

"Fallen…?" Red questions, "you mean as Krell did? F, you were absolutely nothing like that monster-"

"No, I wasn't, but I still did something awful that I…I couldn't call myself a Jedi anymore," F reveals. "It's why I train from dawn to dusk while ignoring the temptation of power. Why I wake up terrified even after hours of meditation. Why tapping into the dark side feels so easy to do."

F could sense the group eased off, seeing how much turmoil this was causing for the young Jedi.

"If you saw yourself as dangerous…I understand," Red told her.

"I don't deserve such understanding," F mutters sullenly. Rei hops next to F and leans her head on her arm to comfort her.

The group then hears Patricia return, this time with important news. "Hey! You want to get moving, F!"

"We're in the middle of something," Jye says.

"I'm sure it can wait, besides I don't think you want to keep THE Bail Organa waiting."

F shoots up from her seat and exclaims, "Senator Organa!? Where is he?"

"He's landing on the main outdoor platform right now!" Patricia says, leading the way as she runs to the door.

F and Rei follow before F hesitates and looks back at her friends, filled with regret.

"It's okay. You're still going through a lot up there," Red reassures her, "know that we don't blame you for leaving. The war hurt all of us differently."

F still didn't forgive herself, but the words from the trio at least released some of that guilt."It was good seeing you all again, my friends," F smiles, waving goodbye for now before following Patricia.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

With Rei on her back, F catches up with the out-of-breath Patricia, who opens the dock doors. Before them were the Tantive III, the Organa's consular ship with a small group already outside. Patricia catches her breath and signals F to walk right ahead. F fixes her sleeves and cloak before walking across the platform. Suddenly, F senses something powerful nearby but not dangerous. The presence causes her to pinch her brow and regain focus.

"You okay?" Patricia asks

"Yeah," F assures and walks ahead, "that's peculiar. What was that powerful Force presence just now?"

"Leia!" Bail cheers, drawing F's gaze to a baby covered in white garb. She senses the baby, barely a year old, whimpering and hugging her father after being gone for so long. Bail smiles in great joy at holding his daughter again. He hugs her lovingly and whispers, "I know, my child. I missed you dearly too. I swear never to leave your side again." Leia's tears fade away as she looks at Bail's warm, protective smile, and soon she giggles happily at her father.

Breha wipes tears from Bail's latest letter and the sight of him home at last, "Dear me, you've always had a way with words, Bail," she smiles, hugging the two most important people to her dearly. "I'm so glad we're together again," Breha whispers to Bail.

"If only circumstances were better," Bail says with a deep sigh.

Breha pulls back with an understanding and worried gaze, "Invasion is growing to be inevitable, Bail. The Insurgency is too fractured to be sustained."

"We must assemble a council meeting immediately," Bail urgently says, "though we have few allies left."

F takes a step forward, catching Breha's attention first as a small smile forms. "Well, we did gain one while you were gone," she says, drawing Bail's attention to F.

Meeting face-to-face with the renowned Senator, F introduces herself, "greetings, Senator Organa, I am a Jedi, and I seek to help both the Insurgency and Alderaan in any way I can." She humbly bows, as does Rei.

Bail was utterly surprised by F's sudden presence, "I can't believe it," he whispered. Leia seems to like her as she giggles and claps her hands while looking at F. Seeing his wife and daughter putting trust in the young Jedi, Bail smiles and humbly asks, "well, what's my new friend's name?"

She straightens herself as Rei joyfully chirps beside her, then she assertively answers, "F, I am padawan F."

---

A/N: Holy shit, I can't believe this chapter became so jammed-packed! I hope you all enjoyed it, this turned out to be more cameo-heavy than I thought, but I hope they came off as tastefully done.

Also, I'm curious if any of you could guess who F saw in that visions. Also, Trans Clones are awesome, and I had to include one. It's also sweet for F to share thier experience with someone who can relate to it. Also, I'm keeping Ivy's name the same in flashbacks. We all know who it is referring to.