The first thing Seth registered was cold. Not the biting kind, but the deep, sterile chill that settled into his bones, numbing the edges of his thoughts as he drifted into awareness. His head throbbed, his limbs felt sluggish, and somewhere in the back of his mind, alarm bells were screaming – danger, danger, danger – but his body wasn't ready to respond just yet.

His fingers twitched against solid durasteel. A deep, mechanical hum thrummed beneath him, reverberating through the floor. He peeled his eyes open, blinking hard against the sharp white light of overhead fluorescents. The world swam into focus.

And that's when he heard the voice.

" – Wake up, dammit."

Seth groaned, pushing himself upright just in time to see Carth Onasi gripping the energy bars of his containment cell across from him, face dark with frustration. The Republic captain was pacing, his movements stiff with barely restrained fury. His jaw clenched so tight Seth was surprised he hadn't shattered a molar by now.

"Where – ?" Seth's voice cracked, his throat raw from – what? Getting knocked out? Drugged? He had no idea.

"The Leviathan, " Carth spat, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. "Saul Karath's flagship."

That yanked Seth into full awareness like a blaster shot to the chest. The Leviathan . One of the most feared interdictor ships in the Sith fleet. The vessel that had torn them out of hyperspace, swallowed the Ebon Hawk whole, and ripped them straight into the heart of enemy territory.

His stomach turned. He looked past Carth's cell, his heart clenching. Bastila.

She was awake, sitting rigid on the floor of her containment cell beside him, knees drawn up, arms wrapped tightly around them. She wasn't pacing, wasn't ranting. She was thinking. Planning. But even with her composed exterior, Seth could see the tension coiled in her shoulders, the way her fingers twitched against her forearm like she was aching for her lightsaber.

"They separated us," she said quietly. Her voice was steady, but there was an edge beneath it – something sharp, barely restrained.

Seth exhaled, trying to shake the lingering fog in his skull. "Mission? T3?"

Bastila hesitated, her silence making his stomach drop. "I don't know where they took them," she admitted. "They were taken somewhere else."

Seth cursed under his breath. That meant Mission and T3 were captured but kept separate. The others – Canderous, Juhani, Jolee, and HK – should still be hidden on the Ebon Hawk. If the Sith hadn't found them, they still had a shot.

If.

He shoved that thought down before it could fester. Focus.

He pulled himself to his feet, stepping toward the barrier of his cell. No physical bars. Just the soft hum of an energy shield trapping him inside. He reached out cautiously, feeling the crackling static against his fingertips before quickly pulling back. No way through.

"They don't want us escaping," Seth muttered.

"No," Bastila said evenly. "They want us alive."

And before Seth could ask the question clawing at the back of his throat, the answer arrived in the form footsteps echoing down the corridor. The boots clicked against the durasteel with a steady, purposeful rhythm. It wasn't the hurried march of a grunt nor the clanking stomp of a heavy-armored trooper. This was someone who walked with absolute control, a predator taking his time.

Carth stopped pacing. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides as his jaw clenched, and Seth saw his shoulders rise and fall with a slow, measured breath – like a man preparing to go to war without a weapon in his hands.

And then the door slid open.

A man in an officer's uniform stepped into the interrogation chamber, flanked by two Sith troopers. Not just any officer.

Admiral Saul Karath. Seth recognized him instantly – from the wanted holos plastered across Republic channels, from, from the stories whispered in grim tones by soldiers who had lived through Telos. Carth's commander. His betrayer. The man responsible for burning everything Carth ever loved into the dirt.

Karath stopped just outside the threshold, his gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in the three prisoners before him. "Well, well," he mused, his voice smooth, almost amused. He cocked his head slightly, regarding Seth with a look that sent a chill down his spine. "You're a new face."

Bastila stood up.

It was subtle – the shift from sitting to standing, from stillness to presence – but it changed the entire air of the room. She squared her shoulders, chin tilted up just slightly.

A Jedi's stance. A warrior's readiness.

Seth could see the tension humming in her frame, the way she was forcing herself to stand there calmly when everything in her body was screaming for action.

Karath noticed, too. His smirk deepened.

"Ah, Bastila Shan," he said smoothly, stepping closer to the containment cells, his hands still tucked behind his back. "The Republic's most precious little weapon."

Seth felt Bastila bristle beside him. Not visibly – no twitch of the hands, no shift in her expression – but he could feel it through the Force. A subtle crack in her carefully crafted armor.

"I must admit," Karath continued, voice casual, "I expected your escort to be a bit more… seasoned. A Jedi Knight, perhaps. Not a teenager and a washed up veteran."

Carth moved.

It was almost imperceptible – just half a step, just a shift of his stance – but the room turned razor-wire tense. Seth could feel the rage barely contained under his mentor's skin, coiling in his muscles, begging for an outlet.

Karath smiled, like he was watching a beast struggle against its cage.

"My, my. You're still so predictable, Carth." He tsked, shaking his head. "After all these years, you'd think you'd have learned some self-control."

Carth gritted his teeth so hard it was audible. Seth had never seen him so tense, so coiled and ready to strike, but Bastila cut in before the captain could do something they'd all regret.

"What do you want, Karath?" Bastila's voice was controlled, but Seth knew her well enough to hear the strain beneath it.

Karath's gaze flicked back to her, his amusement growing. "Ah. Right to business. How very Jedi of you."

And then – he stepped closer. Not toward Carth. Toward Seth.

Seth tensed as the admiral sized him up, looking at him like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"I must say, I was curious about you," Karath mused. "A Republic soldier, yet traveling with a Jedi. Interesting. But it's not just that, is it? No…" He tilted his head. "You're… familiar."

A slow, crawling unease worked its way up Seth's spine.

Bastila took a step forward – instinctive, protective – before stopping herself.

Karath caught it. And he smiled.

"Curious," he murmured. "Very curious indeed."

Bastila's nails dug into her palms. Seth could feel it.

This wasn't just a mission anymore. This was personal.

And she was terrified.

Mission had expected to get caught. That had been the plan.

But plans always sounded a lot better before you were actually locked up in a Sith prison cell with no weapons, no backup, and no idea where the hell your astromech had been taken.

She'd been pacing for the past ten minutes, willing her nerves to settle. The only thing keeping her grounded was knowing that T3 was somewhere on this ship, and she had to get to him. There was a console near the entrance, and the guard outside had been ignoring her completely, probably figuring she was just some scrawny street rat who wasn't worth worrying about.

His mistake.

Time to get to work.

She slumped forward suddenly, letting out an exaggerated groan.

The guard didn't move.

Mission groaned louder, clutching her stomach dramatically.

Still nothing.

Okay. Tough guy.

She took a deep breath – and dropped to her knees, making a huge show of it. "Oh, man, I knew that rations bar smelled off – "

The guard finally turned his head.

Mission clutched her stomach tighter. "Ohhh, this is bad. Real bad."

The guard groaned in annoyance, tapping his comm. "Yeah, the Twi'lek's whining about being sick. You want me to – ?"

He sighed.

"…Fine. I'll check."

Mission hid her grin.

The cell door hissed open. The moment he stepped inside – A quick kick to the knee. A sharp elbow to the gut. The guard staggered, cursing, but Mission was already moving, snatching his blaster and leveling it at him.

"You're gonna open up this cell block," she said sweetly. "And then? You're gonna take a nap."

The hallways were eerily quiet.

Mission moved fast, blaster raised, peeking around every corner. If she were a Sith technician trying to wipe an adorable little astromech's memory, where would she –

A loud, indignant whistle echoed down the hall.

There!

She sprinted toward the sound, skidding to a stop at a side room labeled Droid Maintenance. The doors were slightly open, dim blue light flickering inside. And there, strapped into a diagnostic pod, was T3.

The poor droid was twitching. His circuits whined. His optics were dim. A Sith technician was hunched over him, typing into a datapad, mumbling to himself. "…Weird personality matrix. Obvious glitches. Just wipe the whole thing, start from scratch."

Mission's stomach dropped.

The technician sighed, tapping the final command. "And… there we go – "

CRACK.

The technician collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Mission shook out her fist. "Yeah, there we go."

She turned to T3, heart pounding. "Alright, buddy, hang in there."

Her fingers flew over the control panel, canceling the wipe process. The progress bar was at 92%.

Not on her watch.

She rerouted power, pulled a few manual overrides, and –

Zzzrrt!

The diagnostics pod shut down. T3's optics blinked back to life. Then, in a long, dramatic whistle, he expressed his complete and utter outrage.

Mission laughed, relief flooding her. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too."

T3 swiveled his dome, scanning the knocked-out technician. He let out a long, sarcastic bleep.

Mission grinned. "Nah, I didn't kill him. Just, you know, encouraged him to take a rest."

The droid chittered.

Mission patted his dome. "C'mon, we gotta bust out the others."

T3 let out a questioning beep.

"Yeah, Seth, Bastila, and Carth. Still locked up."

T3 paused. Then, in a series of smug, rapid-fire beeps, he pointed his electroshock probe at the control panel.

The entire security grid glitched. Every door in the prison block hissed open. He whirred smugly.

She gaped. "Did you just – "

A screen flickered to life. PRISON CELL ACCESS: OVERRIDE COMPLETE.

Mission threw up her hands. "T3, you absolute legend!"

T3 chirped triumphantly.

Mission reloaded her stolen blaster. "Alright, buddy. Let's go save our people."

T3 spun in a tight circle, beeping excitedly.

And together, they sprinted into the halls – Ready to bring hell to the Leviathan.

"Tell me," Saul mused, stepping between the energy cages. "How long has it been, Carth? Since Telos?"

Carth's jaw clenched so hard Bastila swore he heard his teeth crack.

Saul just laughed. "Oh, the look in your eyes. You really do hate me, don't you?" He sighed theatrically. "But let's not waste time reminiscing. I have more important questions for all of you." His gaze shifted to Bastila. The amusement vanished. "Tell me, Jedi," he said. "What are you and your little friends searching for?"

Bastila lifted her chin, her face set like stone. "You'll get nothing from me."

Saul tutted. "Stubborn."

He sighed dramatically, then turned to Seth. S tudied him. Bastila's skin crawled at the look in his eye.

"And you…" Saul murmured, tilting his head. "What are you, really?"

Seth narrowed his eyes. "Just a guy with a lightsaber."

Saul chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that." He leaned in, as if trying to see something beyond him. "No, you're something else. Something Lord Malak wants. And that, I find interesting."

Seth held his glare. "Go to hell."

Saul grinned. "Oh, I do love your defiance. But we'll see how long that lasts."

He turned back to Bastila.

"You have one chance to answer me willingly," Saul said smoothly. "Or we'll have to do things the hard way."

Silence.

Bastila didn't flinch. She knew how to resist torture. She had been trained since childhood to withstand pain, to endure suffering in the name of the greater good. Pain was temporary. The mission was everything. And she was strong enough.

The admiral studied her from across the room, a slow, knowing smile creeping across his face. "I imagine you believe yourself immune to my methods," he said, tone almost amused.

Bastila lifted her chin, jaw set. "I am a Jedi."

Saul nodded, mocking approval. "Oh, I have no doubt. Even if I used every trick at my disposal, I doubt I could break you. Jedi are trained for pain. Prepared for it."

Then, his gaze shifted to Seth.

"But tell me, Bastila… how well do you handle watching someone else suffer?"

Her stomach twisted.

Saul turned back to the control panel, and with a simple flick of his fingers, t he energy cells lit up. Seth's scream tore through the room.

Bastila forced herself to breathe. He's okay. He's alive. It's just pain. He can withstand it.

Saul let the electricity burn through him for a solid ten seconds before cutting the current. Seth gasped, muscles locking, chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Carth was seething. But Saul didn't even glance at them. His attention was solely on Bastila.

She kept her face impassive.

Saul hummed. "That wasn't enough, was it?"

She didn't answer.

He smirked. "We'll see." He pressed forward, voice smooth, unhurried. Probing. "What did you find on Tatooine?"

Silence.

The energy field flared again. Seth convulsed violently against the restraints.

"Don't – !" Bastila blurted out before catching herself.

Saul raised a brow. "Yes?"

She clenched her jaw. "I have nothing to say to you."

Saul sighed dramatically. "Pity." He let Seth suffer for another five seconds before easing off.

Bastila exhaled through her nose. Pain is temporary.

Saul's next question was sharper. "Where is the Jedi Council hiding?"

She refused to answer. So he turned up the voltage.

Seth's back arched, his breath torn from his lungs. The sound of it shattered something inside her. But she didn't break. Not yet.

"Any answer for me yet, Jedi?" Saul sneered.

Bastila's fists clenched. He didn't need the right answer, she figured. Just an answer. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse but steady. "Alderaan. They're on Alderaan."

"Alderaan?" He tilted his head, eyes glittering. "I suppose I should commend you. You are remarkably strong-willed. But it does you no good to lie, and I think you need to be brought up to speed."

He stepped closer, looking her right in the eye.

"Dantooine is gone."

Silence.

A horrible, unnatural silence.

Saul smiled. "We razed it. Just as we did to Taris."

Bastila's blood went cold. Carth made a sound – choked, disbelieving. Seth…

Seth was staring at Saul like he hadn't fully registered the words.

Dantooine.

Gone.

Every Jedi. Every Padawan. The Council.

Gone.

Bastila's mind reeled.

"No," she breathed.

Saul's smirk widened. "Yes."

The weight of it was suffocating.

And then, Saul flicked the switch again. This time, Seth screamed. Not just in pain. But in rage. He thrashed against his bonds, his whole body fighting to break free.

Bastila's hands shook. "Stop it!" she snapped.

Saul didn't.

Seth's breath was breaking, coming in sharp, pained gasps. And then – he looked at her.

It was only for a moment, but it gutted her. Bastila had seen Seth in battle. Had watched him take blaster shots, deflect sabers, push through wounds most would collapse under. But she had never seen him like this. Never seen him beg. Not with words.

Just a look. A desperate, unconscious plea.

And it destroyed her.

Saul let up just long enough to ask again. "What is your mission?"

She hesitated. Just a moment.

Saul turned the dial up to full power. Seth's whole body arched. His scream – Force, his scream .

Something inside her shattered.

"I'LL TELL YOU!"

It was a raw, broken cry.

Saul's smile was triumphant. Carth's head snapped toward her, fury etched into his face. "Bastila – "

"Just stop hurting him." Her voice wavered.

Saul Karath allowed a triumphant sneer to cross his features, before flicking the switch.

And Seth blacked out.

The second the younger Jedi went still, something inside Bastila collapsed. Carth was staring at her like he didn't recognize her. "What were you thinking?!" he hissed.

Bastila's voice was barely above a whisper. "I was supposed to protect him."

And in that moment, she felt like she had failed him worse than anyone ever could.

The room was spinning.

Seth felt it before he could see it – a deep, aching pulse radiating through every nerve in his body, his muscles burning from the aftershocks of Sith interrogation. His eyes barely cracked open, but even that sent white-hot pain slicing through his skull.

Somewhere in the haze, he heard a voice.

Bastila.

"…Seth. Seth, wake up."

She was trying to keep her voice calm, but he could hear the shake in it. The rawness from what she'd just been through. From what she'd just watched.

His head lolled forward. The restraints held his arms above his head, energy buzzing against his skin. His whole body was weak, sluggish, barely cooperating. A bitter taste flooded his mouth – blood.

He had no idea how much time had passed since Saul left them here, since his body had gone limp from the final surge of agony.

But he was still here.

And they were still trapped.

Carth had been silent for a long time. That alone was unsettling. The last thing Seth remembered was his voice, ragged and furious, cursing Saul to hell and back.

Now, nothing.

Until –

"Seth." Bastila again, softer now. "Please."

Something about the way she said it cut through the fog in his brain. He forced himself to lift his head. His vision swam, but he managed to find her across from him. Bastila was still restrained in her own energy cell, her arms locked in place like his. She looked worse than before.

Not physically.

But something in her eyes.

She looked broken.

She'd been fighting back tears – he could tell. He hated that he could tell. His fingers curled into fists. He hated that she had to watch. Hated that he had to be the reason she broke.

And then –

BANG.

The sound of a blaster shot.

The sharp crack of sparks flying from a control panel.

And then – chaos.

A flash of silver skidded into the room, a tiny metal blur rolling toward them at full speed.

Behind him –

"Took you guys long enough."

Mission.

Her blaster was already raised, smoke trailing from the barrel where she'd fried the control panel. The force fields flickered. And then, one by one, they dropped.

Seth stumbled forward. His knees buckled, but before he could hit the ground, Mission was there, catching his arm, pulling him up. "Easy there, Hotshot," she whispered, sliding his lightsaber into his palm.

The moment his fingers closed around it, a jolt of clarity rushed through him.

He was back. And he wasn't leaving without a fight.

Carth recovered fast. He grabbed his blaster from the pile of confiscated gear in the corner, already scanning for enemies. Bastila didn't hesitate, snatching her double-bladed saber and igniting it in one smooth motion. Seth's blade hummed to life beside hers.

Mission grinned. "That's more like it."

T3 gave an impatient beep.

"Yeah, yeah, we're going," Seth muttered, flexing his fingers around his saber hilt.

They had mere seconds before Sith reinforcements would swarm the detention block.

Seth was still unsteady, but he was standing. And that was all she needed to know.

Mission knew her job. She and T3 had to get back to the ship, make sure Canderous and the others were ready for a quick escape. Seth and the others were going to the bridge to take down the tractor beam. It was a good plan. It just meant splitting up. Again.

Her stomach twisted.

And suddenly, she realized – she still hadn't told him. He had told her before they were taken, before the Sith grabbed them –

But she hadn't said it back.

Her fingers tightened around the blaster in her grip. Now wasn't the time. Or the place.

And yet –

"Seth."

He was already turning to go.

She reached out, caught his wrist, tugged him back. He blinked at her, surprised. She hesitated. Just for a second. Then she threw caution to the wind, yanked him down by his collar, and kissed him. It wasn't soft. It wasn't slow.

It was rushed and desperate, her fingers tightening in the fabric, his arms locking around her waist.

Seth barely had time to react before she spun on her heel.

"Don't get yourself killed," she muttered, striding toward the exit.

He was staring after her. "You too."

And then – they were gone. She and T3 vanished into the corridor. Seth and Bastila ran the other way.

There was no time to look back.

The mission wasn't over yet.