CHAPTER 5

The narrow halls of the Jedi Temple buzzed with the quiet hum of activity, a subtle undercurrent of purpose in the air. Ashara moved quickly, her steps light as she made her way through the familiar corridors. She had just finished one of her morning duties—overseeing a group of Initiates in their meditation exercises—when a message from her Master had come through her commlink.

Report to the briefing room immediately.

There was no elaboration, but that was nothing new. Master Kit Fisto often preferred to brief her in person, and from the tone of his message, this mission was something urgent. Something important.

Her mind buzzed with anticipation. She hadn't been on many classified missions yet, and Kit's sense of calm in even the direst of situations made it hard to gauge just how serious this was. But if the message had come with such urgency, it had to be something big.

She passed through the final corridor and stepped into the briefing room, where Kit Fisto was already waiting, along with two other Jedi she didn't immediately recognize. Kit turned toward her, his ever-present, easy smile meeting her eyes, though there was a noticeable edge of focus in his expression.

"Padawan," Kit greeted warmly, gesturing for her to join the group. "You're just in time."

Ashara approached, bowing slightly as she took her place next to her master. "What's the mission, Master?"

Kit's smile remained, but his tone grew more serious. "We've been assigned a highly classified rescue mission. A high-priority target—the young heir of Senator Yaret—has been kidnapped by a group of pirates."

A ripple of recognition moved through Ashara at the mention of pirates. Hondo Ohnaka's name didn't come up, but she knew that it was his gang—there was no other pirate group this bold or chaotic enough to kidnap the child of a high-ranking official. She had heard enough stories from other Jedi about Hondo and his men. They were dangerous, unpredictable, and while not malicious, they were opportunistic. A ransom was almost certainly on the table.

Kit continued. "The Senate has kept this situation quiet to avoid panic, but Senator Yaret's child must be rescued before the pirates have a chance to sell them to a higher bidder or worse, before they start leveraging the situation for political favors."

Ashara felt the weight of the mission settle on her shoulders. This was more than just a standard rescue—it was critical to prevent a larger crisis. If the child fell into the wrong hands, it could have massive consequences across the galaxy.

"When do we leave?" she asked, already mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.

Kit's expression grew a touch more serious. "We leave within the hour. The pirates are already on the move, and we need to intercept them before they can secure a more defensible location. We'll need to move quickly and quietly. The location is on the Outer Rim, so the Republic's presence there will be limited."

Ashara nodded, her mind racing through the details. Hondo and his crew wouldn't make it easy. They thrived in chaos, and there was always the chance that negotiations could take a wild turn—or a blaster could go off at the wrong moment.

Kit glanced at her. "I trust you're ready?"

"I am," she said, but a thought tugged at the back of her mind. Cannon.

It had been days since she'd last seen him. Between her training and his rehabilitation, their moments together had been brief, though each one had carried a weight that neither of them acknowledged directly. They didn't need to; it was something that existed in the quiet spaces between words, in the lingering looks and the shared silences.

She wanted to see him before she left. A part of her—one she tried to suppress—wanted to say goodbye. To tell him to be careful, even though he was just beginning to recover. The thought of leaving for a dangerous mission without seeing him made her chest tighten with an unfamiliar unease.

Kit's voice brought her back to the present. "Good. Gather your things and meet me at the hangar."

Ashara nodded again, bowing slightly. "Yes, Master."

As the briefing concluded, she turned and quickly left the room, her heart racing as she made her way toward the rehabilitation chambers where she knew Cannon had been spending most of his time. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him. She wasn't sure how to put the weight of her thoughts into words. But she knew she needed to see him before she left.

The halls blurred as she walked, her focus narrowing on one goal. She could hear her pulse in her ears, a mixture of urgency and anxiety building with every step. She knew this mission would take her far from Coruscant, and she had no idea how long she'd be gone. She just wanted a moment. One last conversation before she stepped into the unknown.

But when she arrived at the rehabilitation center, Cannon's usual spot was empty.

Her heart sank, a small, bitter twist in her stomach as she scanned the room. 99 was there, helping another clone with their therapy, but there was no sign of Cannon.

She approached 99, her voice catching slightly as she asked, "Do you know where Cannon is?"

99 looked up from his task, his weathered face breaking into a small, kind smile. "Ah, yes. Cannon stepped out a while ago. Said he needed to clear his head, I believe. Probably wandering around the training grounds, if I had to guess."

Ashara bit her lip, nodding as she felt a pang of disappointment. "Thank you."

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. She didn't have time to search for him—Master Fisto was waiting, and the mission was too important to delay. Still, she lingered in the rehabilitation center, torn between duty and the growing, unspoken connection she felt toward him.

She took a deep breath. This was the life of a Jedi. There were always missions, always duties pulling her in different directions. Attachments were forbidden for a reason. Even if she wanted to tell Cannon goodbye, even if she wanted more, it wasn't something she could pursue. Not now. Maybe not ever.

With a final glance at the empty training bench, she turned on her heel and made her way toward the hangar.

As she walked away, her mind wrestled with a quiet, unshakable feeling that this wasn't just another mission. Something had changed—something had shifted in her. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the image of Cannon from her thoughts.

But she pushed it down. There was no room for distractions now. She was a Jedi, and her duty came first.

Within the hour, she was on a Republic ship, the stars streaking by as they left Coruscant behind. The mission had begun, and she was moving forward, just as she always had. But this time, it felt different.

This time, she felt like she was leaving something behind.