CHAPTER 7

Cannon made his way back to the med bay, his muscles sore from the training session. The familiar halls of the medical wing were quieter now, most of the clones either discharged or off on new deployments. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, feeling the cold, stiff joints of his cybernetic arm strain against his skin. Every day, it felt a little more like it was part of him. Every day, he felt a little closer to normal—whatever that meant now.

As he rounded the corner, the soft shuffle of footsteps caught his attention. Clone 99 was hunched over near one of the supply shelves, his gnarled hands sorting through medical kits with the slow, careful precision that he was known for. Cannon smiled, grateful for the familiar presence.

"99," Cannon called, his voice low but warm. "How are things?"

99 looked up from his task, his worn face lighting up with that unmistakable mix of kindness and wisdom. "Ah, Cannon, back from training, I see. How are you feeling, lad?"

Cannon gave a noncommittal shrug, lowering himself onto his cot with a slight groan. "Sore, but getting better. Little by little."

99 nodded approvingly, shuffling closer to Cannon's cot. "You'll be back on the front lines in no time," he said with that gentle rasp. "But that's not why I'm here. I meant to tell you—there was someone looking for you earlier. Seemed urgent."

Cannon straightened slightly, his brow furrowing. "Someone looking for me? Who?"

"A Jedi," 99 said, his eyes gleaming knowingly. "That Padawan—Ashara. She was here, asking after you. Seemed like she wanted to talk."

Cannon felt his chest tighten, a pang of worry immediately creeping in. Ashara. He hadn't seen her in a few days—she'd been busy with her duties, and he'd been focused on his recovery, but he'd thought they would find a moment to talk. The fact that she had come to look for him sent alarm bells ringing in his mind.

"Did she say what it was about?" Cannon asked, already feeling the restlessness surge through his limbs.

99 shook his head slowly, his expression thoughtful. "No, she didn't. But she was in a hurry, that much was clear. It seemed important."

Cannon stood, his mind racing. Something wasn't right. Ashara wouldn't have come looking for him without a reason, and if it was urgent, it could only mean one thing—she was being sent off on a mission. A dangerous one, by the sound of it.

"Where is she now?" Cannon asked, already moving toward the door, his voice carrying an edge of tension.

"I'm not sure," 99 replied. "She left not long after I saw her."

Cannon felt his heart drop. He'd missed her. He cursed under his breath, feeling a wave of frustration settle over him. He needed to find her, to make sure she was alright.

Without another word, he rushed out of the med bay, his thoughts spinning as he moved through the quiet halls of the facility. The faint hum of the Temple loomed over him, the usual bustle of clones, Jedi, and medical droids passing by in the corridors, but he barely noticed any of it.

He asked around, first with the guards at the entrance, then with the medics he passed, but none of them knew where she had gone. The more he searched, the heavier the weight in his chest grew. She was gone?

Finally, after asking a passing trooper stationed at the hangar, Cannon got his answer. The clone's face was unreadable as he relayed the news.

"She left an hour ago. Some mission out on the Outer Rim. Top secret, I hear. Jedi and a small detachment of troopers."

Cannon stood frozen for a moment, the reality sinking in. She's already gone.

The clone added, "I don't know much more than that. Sounded like it was high priority. Sorry, trooper."

Cannon nodded absently, offering a distracted thanks before turning away. He walked slowly now, his mind swirling with the thoughts he had tried to suppress. She had come to find him before leaving—he was sure of it now. She had wanted to say goodbye, to talk before going off on a mission that, if it was as dangerous as it sounded, might be the last one she ever took.

He felt a dull ache settle in his chest. I should've been there. But he hadn't been. And now she was gone, out in the galaxy somewhere, risking her life.

He made his way back to the med bay in silence, his steps heavier than before. When he finally returned to his cot, the once-familiar space now felt emptier, as though her absence had left a void he couldn't fill. He sat on the edge of the cot, staring blankly ahead, the reality of it weighing on him.

She had wanted to say goodbye. He was sure of it.

And he hadn't been there.

Cannon let out a slow breath, feeling the frustration, the worry, and the strange, unfamiliar ache in his chest all mixing together in a storm of emotions he didn't quite know how to deal with.

She'll be alright, he told himself, but the words rang hollow in his mind. He'd lost enough brothers to know that sometimes, no matter how strong you were, the galaxy had a way of taking those you cared about when you least expected it.

For now, all he could do was wait. Wait for her to return.

And hope that when she did, they'd get the chance to have the conversation they both needed.