"I'm sorry," whispered (Y/N), a slight tremble in her voice. Her eyes darted around the small room. It was only her and Wolffe now; all others had left with the promise of returning later if only to check on her. Since then, the air has a sense of awkwardness to it, heavy and filled with tension. "For how I reacted."
"Forget that," replied Wolffe, his voice more like a low growl. His posture had stiffened when the two little words shook from her lips. He didn't want to talk about what happened between them; they hurt each other, even unknowingly. He didn't want her apology for something he brought on himself, or at least felt like he had. "What happened?" vaguely asked the commander, his voice lower now but softer than before, his glare a little warmer too, tainted even with glimmers of unspoken affection.
(Y/N) only looked back with confusion, clearly displaying that she didn't understand the question. The intrigue did, however, shine in her eyes. Something was different this time. He was different. There was no hatred in his mismatched eyes now; he wasn't as rigid as normal either, his words softer, and if she wasn't mistaken, concern had painted itself on his scarred features several times since she'd woken.
"I saw the pain in your eyes that night, the hope as it …" began Wolffe after what felt like an eternity. He squeezed his eyes shut shortly after, the memory of the night in question returning, haunting him again. "Faded," he added, his voice slightly over a whisper. "I know pain like that; distrust like yours is only caused when one has been broken," he added once more, refusing to admit he tried to research what happened, although he'd hit dead end after dead end. It was as if he was being purposefully blocked. As if someone didn't want him to know the truth.
"Nothing," replied (Y/N), adverting her gaze to the small window toward the Jedi Temple. She didn't look over to Wolffe when he stomped toward her. Instead, she pulled her knees to her chest and secured them with her arms. As if she was once again closing herself off to the galaxy and the topic in general.
Gently, Wolffe reached a gloved hand out to her, hesitating slightly before grabbing her chin. He could see the pain shimmering in her eyes again, unushered tears just waiting to fall there, too. Despite happening so long ago, she still remembered what happened, as if her torment had ended just the day before.
"I'm not trying to hurt you, Ca'tra," admitted Wolffe, softer now. Even his grip had become gentle, as if he believed she was a fragile glass sculpture that would crack and shatter if handled too roughly. "I just want to understand so I can figure out a way to help," he added, once again pushing away the foreign feelings that bubbled when he was close to her. Despite his denial and refusal to accept his brother's encouragement, he knew they were right. Still, it didn't erase his vow or the conflict that so often plagued his mind. His heart had already decided, but his mind refused to accept it. Logic and duty, too, seemed to be hurdles he had yet to find a way to overcome.
"It is in the file," whispered (Y/N), reaching for the second rarely seen chain hanging from her neck. Upon first look, one could easily mistake the trinket dangling from the end as a pendant instead of the cleverly disguised key. "The Night Star file. Chancellor Palpatine created it after my return and year-long investigation. You can access it by scanning this," she explained, taking shallow but deep breaths to calm herself and regain her slipping composure. It had been years since anyone asked about what happened since anyone cared. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"You make it sound like an unspoken doom," answered Wolffe, finally sitting at the end of the bunk, at least before reaching for the pendant. Despite second-guessing himself, he had to know. The locked files, the concern many Jedi had displayed when she was missing, Skywalker's anger, and even Plo's protectiveness all contributed to the mystery, one he needed answers to and wanted, even if only to understand her better.
"It is to me," replied (Y/N), moving to grab the datapad nearby, tapping the necessary information into the device before handing it over to the Commander before her. She sighed when he took it from her before returning her attention to the window, attempting to refocus her mind and remember the few happier times.
A shiver soon rattled down her spine, and a rush of emotions followed it, but not her own. Instead, there were echoes of Wolffe's that she could feel through the force—powerful, far more potent than others. Among the involuntary emotions were horror, hatred, and pity, but what surprised her more was the sense of affection as it grew a little more, warmth, too, as if he was trying to comfort her.
"Was the Jedi expelled from the order?" asked Wolffe, his voice a growl emanating from his throat. His hands shook now, anger too much to bear—so much so that he couldn't bring himself to utter the name of the supposed peacekeeper who'd committed such horrifying acts.
"No," replied (Y/N), her voice cold and monotone as she shifted her position to move from the bunk closer to the window, even when the view would offer anything but comfort. "He remains a member of the council. Most swept what happened under the rug, wanted to forget it happened and move on. The few who care tried to help me move on and learn to control the foresight it triggered," she explained. Deep down (Y/N) knew the Jedi leaders' lack of action was why Jango Fett had refused to give her back for eleven long but peaceful months. "Don't."
"Don't what?" asked Wolffe, placing the datapad to the side, resisting the urge to throw it. He stood soon enough, pacing the length between the door and the window where (Y/N) stood. She shivered again, but more from her memories this time—her powerful feelings toward the Jedi and Maul. Once again, however, she reclaimed her slipping composure and pushed away her unanswered questions about what happened, burying the past once more.
"Pity me," answered (Y/N), focusing her attention on the Jedi Temple, her own personal prison. "I'm not that naive little girl anymore. To most, I'm the monster they fear will return to haunt them. To others, the warrior they helped make from the shattered remains of the broken little girl."
"I don't pity you, Ca'tra," voiced Wolffe, stepping closer to her again, silently attempting to fill the void created when she moved away. "It's not you who should apologize. I judged you like the Jedi who let you down; I judged you for what another person did. If I'd listened, I would have seen you meant no harm; your care and compassion for us clones is real."
"You're not them," whispered (Y/N), her body stiffening again. "He's angry," she muttered as if she'd lost track of what she'd previously been saying. "You judged based on the trauma you suffered through, the loss you've battled through. You did what you needed to protect yourself from further pain. They judged me out of fear, and by the actions of my father, some still do; they forgot I was a child, a time I think they never cared," she added, looking over her shoulder upon feeling his mismatched eyes burn into her. "You're a soldier, a protector, and a hero to many. All clones are. Most of the Jedi lost their way a long time ago, long before this war. So many things blind them; they do not see they are the enemy now; they don't see this war will be the death of them one way or another."
"Do they hurt?" worded Wolffe; the thought passed through his lips before he could stop them. His eyes widened when he realized, but he was at least thankful (Y/N) hadn't closed herself off again. Instead, the opposite, she appeared to be more confident now he knew the truth others had taken steps to hide. "The visions?"
"No," (Y/N) voiced in response; a heavy sigh escaped her lips before she wrapped her arms around herself; this time, the chilly air had gotten to her. "Most of the time, it's a mix of blurred scenes. Some are clearer than others, and others make sense when some need deciphering," she added, turning to face Wolffe now, her breath hitching in her throat upon realizing he was closer than she initially thought, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off him.
"Besides Fives, what else have you seen?" questioned Wolffe, generally curious. At the same time, he wondered if Count Dooku, Grevious, and the bold harpy knew about her visions. If the mysterious Sith Lord knew. If Maul and Savage knew or, their reasoning for wanting her was more genuine and motivated by love.
"This war was the first thing the force showed me over a decade ago," whispered (Y/N), stepping around Wolffe, if only to clear her thoughts and allow him to refocus his. "Since then, the Sith rising to power, the death of the Jedi, a friend falling into darkness, hunters made up of brothers and sisters. A loth wolf, an old crossguard red lightsaber, a boy torn between light and dark."
"And," grumbled Wolffe, crossing his arms over his armored chest, sensing there was more she wasn't saying.
"A freedom fighter being molded into an extremist by an empire, believers marked with X, a friend reuniting with family, a lover griefing and lost," spoke (Y/N), closing her eyes to focus on the more precise clips of her visions. "A master and padawan sparking hope, the fall of a princess. Night falling on Dathomir."
"Do the Jedi know?" asked Wolffe, quickly hissing at himself for asking such a stupid question. "General Plo and others you trust?" he added as if to correct his previous words. He'd read the classified file and understood her better, but his view of the Jedi had been tainted; his love and trust in Plo had only grown stronger, but his overall opinion had started to change, as he was sure anyone's would if they read what he had. "Does Fox know about the file? What's in it?"
"The Jedi Council knows what they do with it. I have no idea; my guess is to ignore the warnings. Even more so if it doesn't align with what they believe in now," (Y/N) spoke in response, suspecting the majority would ignore the visions for another reason, one far simpler and less related to politics because she was the one to see them. "As for Fox, I suspect he knows, although he'll argue he doesn't when asked."
"Typical," huffed Wolffe, rolling his eyes at the thought of Fox pleading his innocence on something. "Did you share it with him?" he questioned, his brows sowing together upon (Y/N) silently shaking her head to the question.
"I don't know how he got access to that," she responded, recalling a mystery she'd yet to solve. Even more so when access to the file was restricted, only those permitted to access it by herself or the chancellor could read through it. "Fox is stubborn on that front; he won't say how or who gave him access." Silence seemed to settle over the pair, Wolffe eventually coming to sit at (Y/N)'s side, still conflicted but knew his internal battle would eventually end. "You seem different."
"I've got a lot to think about, Ca'tra," Wolffe said, his mismatched eyes focused on his gloved hands. "More than the normal expectations and duties, at least," he added, refusing to voice the subject to think about was her. He'd learned more in the last hour than in the months since they'd met. Plus, he had to figure out his muddled feelings and understand the unknown he faced now. "I thought I would be a perfect clone, followed orders, protected my brothers, put my duty before my wants and desires," added the commander, feeling some of the weight lift off his shoulders, the pressures melt away now he was speaking about it to someone. "Since Kyrin, things have been different. You changed something. It got me questioning what it means to be a soldier, thinking about what I want when the war's over."
"Good Soldiers don't always have to follow orders," acknowledged (Y/N), placing a gentle hand on Wolffe's armored shoulder, almost surprised he didn't shake her away. Instead, he relaxed a little more, even leaned further into her touch. "Following your instincts and heart leads you to what you're looking for."
"So does trusting in the force," retaliated Wolffe, as if he were debating with her. However, a half-smirk appeared across his lips, an act that seemed to cause (Y/N) to roll her eyes, although she didn't smile in response, almost playful, a stark contrast to how things were between them before.