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cl-01-kestis · 3 years

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My Little Rebel - Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 6

Summary: You’ve been in a secret relationship with Cal for a while now, and during a mission on Bracca, you discover a more than surprising secret.

Warnings: Threat

Life got strange ever since the day you were broken out of prison, in a good way of course. You and Cal have been with one another for 3 months now, you’ve grown into happy and comfortable people because of each other’s endless support and appreciation. Cal was the missing piece for you, and you were the light in the dark for him, but it wasn’t enough to bring him to the light side.

Cal continued to be an Inquisitor in fear that Darth Vader would find and kill him if he left and vanished. You chose to stay a Rebel instead of join the Empire and get a job there, you refused to join something so corrupt, but you respected Cal’s decision and thankfully he respected yours.

The war between the Empire and Rebellion was getting worse and overtime you started losing a lot of your friends to battles. The Inquisitors continued cutting through the Rebels like butter, and you had no backup plan that could save yourselves.

You’ve almost died on many occasions, you’ve almost given up and accepted death, but then you remember Cal and everything he’s done for you. You haven’t died yet because within you there’s a love and determination so powerful because you don’t want to let Cal down. You don’t want to leave him in a war and without someone there to help him, that would be too selfish and heartbreaking.

Recently you’ve been jumping from place to place, and this has been the most time you’ve been away from your home on Yavin. A mission came up recently that involved a handful of Rebels going undercover to the planet Bracca to discover possible Empire plans. You were one of those rebels, no surprise, it was about time you’d left to go on a long, outdrawn mission that could rescue the Rebellion instead of always fixing ships and vehicles.

You were next to your commanding officer, back against a large scrapyard wall and clinging tightly to your pistol. The weather in Bracca was dreadful, you’re thankful you brought gloves and an extra scarf or else you’d be freezing to death. Stormy clouds rumbled above you and your squad as you padded through multiple scrapyards which felt like a never ending maze. You had to stop on multiple occasions to get some rest and get a drink or eat something to increase your energy.

The vibe around Bracca felt like it was draining you, you were tired, cold, frustrated and your body ached. You wish Cal could’ve been here, that way you’d be a lot more energised and ready to go. But this was different, you hadn’t seen Cal in a while and you’d grown a tad bit colder.

After two days of walking through scrapyards, your team finally decided to split up to speed up the process of finding something. You were thankfully on your own, able to concentrate on your thoughts without someone yapping in your ear the whole time. You had your own rations and a large flask of water in your heavy weight backpack that weighed you down massively, but you didn’t give up.

Your feet screamed for you to stop but you couldn’t, you had to find something. A strange sense of warmth filled your chest and for a moment you thought Cal was nearby, but from what you could see there was no Tie fighter nearby and no Inquisitor.

The warmth in your chest was pulling you to something, distant whispers of a child echoed in your ear as you grabbed onto wires and metal walls and pulled yourself up to the next platform. The rain poured down onto your face and cleaned away any muck you had on it before.

As you hoisted yourself up, your head peeking over the edge of the wall and into the platform, your eyes widened when you saw a bright purple hue swirling around what seemed to be a screwdriver. Bewildered, you stood up and approached the purple hue cautiously, afraid in case it might be hostile. You crouched down to It’s level and heard multiple voices calling to you, the whispers of the child now loud and clear as your hand slowly pulled out and reached forward.

And suddenly, everything went silent.

You looked up from your spot and realised the purple hue was gone, your surroundings now covered in a similar hue as a transparent, familiar figure stood in front of you. A young boy, about 16, stood next to you holding the same screwdriver that was on the floor, twirling it between his fingers as he hummed a soft song to himself. He wore headphones on his head and took off his hood, revealing a batch of fiery red hair. You froze in your spot, mouth hung open in shock as the vision of a young teenage Cal walked in front of you.

He was oblivious that you were here, it was clear this was some kind of hallucination. His eyes were a soft baby blue instead of that sharp yet beautiful gold you always saw. Cal’s outfit consisted of combats, boots, a grey/blue long sleeved T-shirt and a thick weighted vest over his torso. This wasn’t the Cal you knew, it had to be a vision of who he used to be before turning into an Inquisitor.

Young Cal looked around from all directions before looking to his waist and pulling out a glorious lightsaber, igniting it to reveal a bright blue that illuminated everything around it. Cal’s eyes gleamed and he smiled to himself, twirling the lightsaber skilfully around his body and getting into fighting stances, pretending to fight an enemy as he waved the lightsaber around in front of him and practiced his fighting for a while until hearing someone call for him in the distance.

“Coming!” He said, his voice sounding so much more light and innocent as he hid his lightsaber and ran in the direction of the voice.

And then you shifted back into the sad reality of the scrapyard, the rain poured and made your hair wet to the point it looked like you’d been thrown in a pool. Droplets of rain fell off the edges of your hair and onto the ground. A sudden, strange weight in your hand caught your attention, your eyes looking down and lifting your arm up to see a lightsaber - the same one that Cal was holding from the vision. It’s golden body gleamed as droplets fell onto it and rolled off the ride.

You took a step back in astonishment, raising the lightsaber right in front of your face and inspecting its every detail. This situation was so sudden, first the vision and now the lightsaber.

Who gave it to you? When on Earth did you pick it up? You were certain it wasn’t around before you saw the vision. You looked at the other side of the saber and notices a small button, you knew immediately what this did. You couldn’t deny the urge you felt as your thumb traced over the button, you wanted to see for yourself what this weapon looked like.

Out of impulse, you pressed the button and almost dropped the saber as a beautiful bright blue blinded your vision, your eyes not used to the harsh light since they were adjusted to the darkness of Bracca.

You waved it around, your eyes wide with amazement and your mind rushing with so many questions and undeniable excitement. You never thought in your 21 years of life you’d be holding something so special and so sacred. This was a Jedi’s weapon, not exactly the same to the blasters you were used to. This was all so surreal and then the realisation dawned on you.

Why did you, of all people, have a lightsaber? This wasn’t yours and you weren’t a Jedi or force wielder, so why did the saber chose you? Or why was it given to you?

You pressed the button and unsheathed the lightsaber, not wanting any accidents to happen. You clipped it to your belt next to your blaster, your eyes lurking on it for a few more seconds before looking up and inhaling deeply. There was still much more territory to go over, you had all night.

This was going to take a while.

There it was again. The silent whisper of a child. You desperately tried to follow it and walked into many wrong directions whilst you were at it. You’d heard it many times since the last and it was getting to the point it was driving you insane. The lightsaber had come in handy in getting through dark areas and cutting through blocked paths. You made sure not to keep it on constantly to avoid unwanted attention from nearby mechanics, you were also still trying to get used to the fact that you all-of-a-sudden had this lightsaber in your hand, zero experience of how to even remotely use it.

And slipped through the cracks of the buildings made from scraps of machine, injuring yourself slightly in the process and suffering from many cuts and bruises from trying to make your way around the area. You didn’t bump into any other rebels but you could see a few of them from a distance, and by a distance you meant small specs from miles away. You didn’t even know how you noticed them, you were positive your eye sight wasn’t the best.

You found another purple hue, once again it was hovering above something on the ground and the noise that came from it was a child’s whisper. You crept forward to it, making sure your lightsaber was kept hidden underneath your green poncho as you sat cross legged in front of the purple hue and reached out to it, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. It was strange, you felt a connection with the hue, it felt like a force dragging you towards something significant. You were slowly coming to the realisation that this might possibly mean you had a gift, maybe something like a hyper sensor ability that made you aware of everything around you. Or maybe, just maybe... the force.

As you dipped your hand into the purple glowing hue, a sudden sharp pain stabbed at your hand and you drew it back immediately, looking down at it to see where the pain was coming from.

There was a large scar on your hand that had been there for as long as you could remember, it had always been a part of you. It was on the back of your hand and dragged from your pinky to the centre of your outer wrist. However, when you looked down to inspect it, it was wide open and bleeding tons. Your first instinct was to panic but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You’d never seen it before the scar formed, you can’t even remember how you got it. It was deep, you could see muscle and all the strange insides of your body, it made you want to be sick.

You tore a bit of your poncho off and wrapped it tightly around the wound to suppress the bleeding, sucking in a sharp breath as you applied pressure to the cut.

“This is strange” You mumbled to yourself, looking back at the purple hue that hadn’t vanished yet like the other, you realised you had yet to see what this one had in store. Reluctant, you reached your bandages hand out to give it a second try, if this one didn’t work then you’d just leave it and find another hue. You closed your eyes, preparing for the same sharp pain but instead opening your eyes to see that you were in another vision. The surroundings were coated in a fairly transparent purple and multiple bodies were around you.

You looked behind you when you heard blaster shots, ducking your head down immediately and looking up to see a young Jedi girl wielding a small lightsaber, blocking blaster blows that were shot in her direction by clone soldiers, lots of them. By her side was her Master, taking down the clones and defending her as much as they could. You were still in Bracca, the same environment but set in an era long ago.

The girl had (H/C) hair and soft yet grubby (S/C) skin, cuts covered her body and her Jedi robes were dirty and scarlet with blood that wasn’t all hers.

The girls eyes were full of fear, she continued blocking blaster shots until a clone trooper holding a blade approached her, running rapidly and throwing the blade down on her, only to swipe the back of her hand deeply and cause a painful scream to rip from the young girls throat. As a result, the young girl raised her lightsaber and cut the troopers head clean off before she realised the rest of the clones had been killed by her master. Bewildered, the girl fell on her backside and burst into tears, holding her head in her hands and smudging blood on the side of her face with the blood oozing from her hand.

Her master comforted her, reassuring the young Padawan that she was going to be alright and that they had to move or else they’d be caught.

“Come now, (Y/N), we have a long journey ahead of us” The Master said.

Wait... what?

#jedi fallen order #x reader #star wars #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #cal kestis

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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could you maybe right something with cal where the reader and cal are maybe doing repairs on a part of the mantis but the door gets stuck and the end up locked in the area for a while? and they’re both obviously in love with one another but just can’t really admit it to each other? if that makes sense lmao. you’re writing is super good btw!

Hi Anon! I’m really sorry that it took a while because I got caught up with the prior requests and my OC x Cal fic ;;;; I hope that I can make it up to you by finally writing this fic request. I hope you’ll still enjoy this story! I’M BACK TO WRITING, I SWEAR. I just enjoyed my break way more than I should ;-;

“Little Secrets That You Know That I Never Told” | Cal Kestis x Reader

Also in AO3

Tags: Subtle hints, secret crush, slightly jealous! Cal, mutual pining, bonding, warm and fuzzy feelings, fluff

Masterlist

Greez takes your hand to nestle a small pouch of credits onto your palm. It’s neither too heavy nor light, though the slightest movement warranted the metal inside to clink against one another.

“Alright, here’s the money for the parts and I’m sure you’ve got a good eye for quality!”

You bobbed your hand with the pouch to feel its weight, and then you thought out loud to Greez.

“Why don’t you come with us, Greez? Nothing bad about a little stroll, it’ll help in stretching your legs,”

“Aww no, my ship should not be out of my sight within a one-inch radius!”

“Uhh… Don’t you mean one-mile radius?”

“No, I did mean a one-inch radius!” pressed the Lateron.

Cal stepped in just when your banter with the captain has concluded. He asks you if you’re ready and you say yes. Even from a distance, you can feel the hostility from the town; in Cal’s case, it sort of reminded him of Bracca, and he sensed your uncertainty disguised as caution.

“We best be careful, Cere found a lot of Imperial signals here,” you recall.

“Then stay close to me,”

It came to Cal naturally, but when he realized what he just said, all of the color drained away from his freckled cheeks. You turned to him and he returned the gesture with a nervous side-glance that evolved into a full look; he was greeted with a small yet warm smile from you and you mouthed the word “Sure” within his earshot. Immediately, the color returned to his cheeks.

The two of you came across a shop that seemed promising, and so you enter the establishment, making your presence known by the ring of a chime that hung by the door—or lack thereof, since it was only a canvas curtain. A young man—perhaps in the same age as you and Cal—and his attention was drawn to the sound. He shifted in his seat, as he was originally facing away from the door, and vaulted over the main counter.

“Well now, what can I get for you?”

“Yeah, uh,” you fished out the compact holodisk and switched it on. “We have a list of parts. Do you happen to have these?”

The young shopkeeper leaned closer to the point that the hologram’s light pooled the entirety of his face, he makes a pensive look: chin between his fingers, squinted eyes, and a long “hmm” as he skims your list.

He clicked his tongue, “Yep, I think we have those,” then there was an awkward pause mainly on your end, so he decided to continue on. “Name’s Seff by the way.”

“Oh cool,” your lip stretched into a straight smile and you shrug your shoulders. “Could you, like… at least show us where they are, Seff?”

While you and Cal weren’t exactly there to make niceties, both of you continued to be polite to Seff. But Cal sensed something else from the boy—it was his seemingly desperate attempt to get your attention. Though he was comforted by the fact that you were uninterested in the subtlest way possible. Seff gestured the pair to the wall of wares; when you took the step ahead towards it, Cal stayed close by your side and shot Seff a sharp glance as he obscured the shopkeeper’s view of you—practically standing in the middle.

BD-1 obliged to flash his copy of the list through lens in the form of a hologram, he did this while perched on Cal’s shoulder. Meanwhile, you browsed the racks upon racks of parts. You felt a little playful and picked up a cylindrical lens shaft and held it to your eye level, the other end points to Cal—who was still busy looking for the other part on the list—when he noticed you in your little game, you finally caught a glimpse of him and his smile through the glass lens.

“Ooh, I think I spotted some treasure!” you chirped.

“Harty-har-har,” Cal cooed, barely even doing the impression of a space pirate. He carefully lowers the lens away from your eyes with his the tips of his fingers, revealing a cheery smile painted on your face.

You teasingly bit your lip to him, as if holding back a laugh, before returning the lens to the shelf. Endeared, Cal himself smiled privately as he looked rummaged through the shelves; he attempts to catch a glimpse of you, angling out his head just to get a wider view than just his periphery and caught your little smile while examining a power cell. You continued to search for the remainder of the list until the last item was ticked off.

“Do you honestly think the damage is that bad?” Cal thought out loud.

“I… I guess so. But we can only really tell once we come and look at her,”

“Ditto. But still, don’t you think these are a bit… excessive?”

That prompted you to check the list again, seeing that you’ve completed the list, you look at the haul and start to agree with Cal. The two of you exchange looks and give each other a resigned shrug of the shoulders. It didn’t take long for both of you to stay in the shop, but the whole time, you did what Cal has told you earlier—to stay close to him.

You approach the counter and paid for the parts, fishing out and counting the credits of silver and gold from the pouch that Greez handed over to you.

“Pleasure doing business with ya,” Seff bade as he swept the credits to him with his forearm.

“Thanks for the help,” you casually said, grabbed the rucksack, and then turned away.

The pair of you exited the shop and you can finally be yourself again with Cal. You slung the rucksack over your shoulder as you made your way to the ship.

“Persistent bugger, wasn’t he?” you quipped jokingly to Cal. It was your own way to relieving yourself from that rather awkward encounter, he concurred with a chuckle.

“Well, did you get all of them?” Greez greeted you from the entry ramp.

You beamed and showed off the rucksack to the Lateron, “Yup! Surprisingly, this one shop had it all. I hope you have the tools for it, though.”

“Oh sure, there’s an entire toolbox waiting for you in the engine room,”

Cal went ahead to the engine room—which was essentially his bedroom—and searched for the particular toolbox that the captain referred to. There were only a few compartments installed in the wall of the room, so it didn’t take long for the redhead to find the said toolbox.

The damage was in the room where the escape pods are, but the affected area was the auxiliary engine—which occupied an entire wall on the opposite side. The size of the auxiliary engine room was strictly enough for two people. You were in first and Cal followed behind after bringing in the tools, you were undisturbed by the hiss of the door and the clattering of the metal.

“Mind if I join in?”

“Come on, the more the merrier!” you squeaked.

You dismantle the grate covering the internals of the power hatch. You take a step back to get a full view of the damage—tendrils of gray smoke wafted out of the narrow crooks between the conduits, tiny orange sparks flew out of the dangling wires. It was an electrical mess.

“This is gonna take a while,” you groaned sardonically.

“Well, we better start then,” Cal gently bumps his fist against your shoulder and approaches the power hatch.

You set down the rucksack of parts and went one by one on which goes where. Being the expert scrapper that Cal was, he worked much quicker and handier, though that didn’t bother you—you’re just glad you weren’t the only one that’s going to tinker the Mantis until it’s completely repaired.

To keep your boredom at bay, you fished out the foldable headphones from your jacket’s inner pocket—you fix the gadget on your head, a single button on the right earpiece prompted a song to play. Even at a low volume, given the silence that hung in the room with you and Cal, he was able to hear and make out the song just by listening in on the rhythm and muffled lyrics.

“Mou houlingting gaan Sugaan Essena…”

He had to pause from unscrewing the auxiliary compressor when he heard you softly sing out those lyrics. Of course, he recognized it—it was The HU! When he turned his head, he found you lost in the song and found your antics quite adorable—bobbing your head to the rhythm, parroting the percussion with your fingernails tapping against the metal, and even strumming an imaginary fiddle in the air with your fingers assumingly flicking in the same pace, intensity, and timing as the actual guitarist.

It took you a second to acknowledge that Cal has been watching your little concert with yourself, you noticed it in your peripheral vision. This time, he didn’t dare to hide the smile—his main reaction of endearment to seeing you getting too lost in the song.

“You listen to The HU?”

You pulled down your headphones, “Yeah, I do! I love that band. Sorry, was my volume too loud?”

“Nah, don’t sweat it. I love that band as much as you do!”

Your eyes lit up in the poorly-lit engine room. You take off the right earpiece and offered, “You wanna listen in too?”

Cal nodded and you scooted yourself closer to him; your headphone was the kind that can have the headband extended or be safely split into two for sharing—you did the latter and fixed it on his ear. The slightest touch of your fingertips pressing against the side of his face was enough to make his heart skip a beat. His eyes became shifty as they struggle to look away and avoid eye contact from you, hoping that you would never notice the blush burning all over his face.

“There we go,”

The song continued to play in both of your ears. It’s already reached the chorus, and your spontaneous reaction to hearing that climatic portion was to belt out your best impression of the main singer’s pitch, accompanied with the fade-out at the last syllable. Cal and yourself did this in your own tones, it didn’t matter if it was off-key or that your pitches didn’t match in some parts, both of you enjoyed the song regardless.

When the iconic chorus—the namesake of the song—came in once more, for a moment, the two of synched and sang your hearts out while facing in front of each other. It felt like the two of you were doing your own musical gig inside the engine room when you’re supposed to be working on the repairs.

However, you went the extra mile—you mimicked the guitar riff that followed after the chorus and worked on the auxiliary engine panel at the same time. When you caught Cal looking at you again, you snapped out of your performer alter ego and awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry, I just… I tend to do this when I work. It’s a bad habit,”

“No, it’s perfectly fine. You seem to be having fun anyway, so I wouldn’t wanna wish to ruin that,”

You cleared your throat and bit your lip. The awkwardness gradually dissolved, the two of you exchanged shy smiles and continued to work and listen to the music spilling out of your headphones’ earpieces. You went on with your tinkering and repairing until the ship went dark: all the lights went off in a cascading succession, the engine hum had gone totally silent, and the door that the two of you came through was stuck and sealed shut.

“What happened?” exclaimed Cal.

“I don’t know! I can’t see anything!”

“BD, give us some light, would you?”

“Beee-woo!”

A switch clicked in BD-1 and his little lens was able to light up your spot in the room. The tiny droid shines his light on the entire panel in search of the potential cause of the ship’s blackout.

“It can’t be me—I was working on the secondary hyperspace compressor.”

“Can’t be me, either. I’m working on the wiring,” Cal’s eyes scaled up to the top of the engine panel. He points at something with his soldering gun. “There’s the auxiliary’s main power cell. That must have went out while we were working.”

“Then it must be from the outside, could be Greez,” you assumed.

“Yeah, but we can’t waste our breaths slamming the door calling for help like trapped scrap rats,”

You looked around the room, squinting your eyes to see better with the little light you’re left with through the cracks and gaps of the ship. You tap Cal’s shoulder, with BD-1 subsequently aiming the spotlight in your general direction.

“Look, there’s a vent. Maybe BD-1 can fit through and tell Greez to switch on the main power grid,” you suggested.

The droid chirped in agreement. He hopped off and skittered towards the said air vent. Cal crept to him, unfastened the screws and removed the grate for BD-1 to crawl into. Without a word, the droid entered the ventilation shaft in the hopes of finding a way out into the main interior of the Mantis.

“Well, I guess we’re stuck here. No point in fixing the ship without any light,” you sighed.

“Yeah, guess we’ll just have to wait for BD,”

Suddenly, a spark livened up your brain with an epiphany.

“Does Greez understand droidspeak?”

There was a silence, you’re hoping for a swift reply from Cal, but it seems to he too had the same realization. He didn’t answer you right away, you assumed that he had returned to the engine panel and probably didn’t catch what you said. You pawed the air, searching for Cal until you felt something solid touch your back and then fall with you.

At first, you didn’t even notice that you didn’t land on the hard, metal floor. In fact, you felt rough fabric and cracked leather on yourself. It took you a bit of a while to realize that you landed on someone else.

“Arrggh, took a wrong step there,” Cal groaned. In the darkness, you heard his voice was too close.

“Oh gods, I’m sorry!” you scramble away to his side and off of him.

You crawl to the wall and press your back against that as you watch the shadow of him toss and turn until he sat up. Your heart raced and your cheeks flared. You were grateful for the blackout obscuring your face, because not a single good excuse exists for you to save yourself if Cal did see the look on your face.

Though, you could’ve sworn you felt his heartbeat pace so quickly underneath his leather armor.

“No, no! I’m fine, [Y/N], really,” he insisted as both of you regain your bearings in the dark.

Either of you have to squint their eyes in order to see better. Only silhouettes appeared in your vision, you can make out the shapes but the facial expressions were difficult to read.

“Well, guess we’re stuck here,” Cal pointed out.

“And we even sent out BD-1 to tell Greez about this—and I know for a fact that he’s not fluent in droidspeak,”

“Crap, you’re right,”

Both of you released a concurrent sigh. Cal drew his legs closer to his chest, crossed them together and secured them around his arms. The stale air hummed through the vents—including the open one where BD-1 went through—but both of you cannot deny that the air’s gotten a bit thinner.

“I hope they’ll get his message,” you mumbled.

“I’m sure Cere will fill Greez in if he doesn’t get BD-1,”

Cal took a slow, deep breath and nestled himself next to you. The silence was a bore and you decided to engage in small talk while waiting for BD-1 to come through.

“So, when did you first find out about The HU?”

“Well, I was in a cantina having a drink with an old friend, Prauf, after working hours—it was the end of the work week, so we decided to unwind—and then this cantina had no live performers that time, which was a usual thing on that particular day. So instead, they had their speakers on and put on a virtual performance—they played that band’s top record and it just stuck to me.”

“Which is Sugan Essena?”

“Exactly. How did you come to know the band?”

“Nothing memorable, really. Overheard it being played from a frequency channel in a store owner’s radio. Coincidentally, a few of my friends knew it and I just had to ask.”

The two of you got lost in each other’s own stories over something mutual, which felt genuinely nice. The air gradually became stale by the minute, the longer the time seemed to have dragged on, the more anxious you became; Cal sensed this and he wanted to comfort you so bad, but he was afraid that it might turn out awkward or worse.

The least he could do—at least, that’s what he thought in his mind—is to stay close and keep you company.

You felt him scramble in the dark, two soft but heavy thumps sounded on the floor—he had just stretched out his legs and let out a leisurely exhale. You felt his sleeve brush against your bare arm.

“So, that Seff guy seemed to like you a lot,” Cal initiated, though he seemed to be disgruntled by his own topic.

You scoffed in the guise of an indifferent laugh, “Guy wasn’t really up in my alley, honestly. I was just trying to be polite as best as I can.”

“Oh? He wasn’t your type?”

You shake your head, quite fervently and added, “Nah. I have someone else in mind.”

You looked to him when you said the latter and managed a smile. A ray of light persisting through a gap in the ceiling shone over his left eye, making his jade iris twinkle and you watched it shift ever so slightly. His eyes were one of your favorite features of him—placing first place before his delightful freckles and his fiery, scarlet hair in third—but it was your own little secret.

To a certain degree, Cal was relieved, but then the next thing he thought about was whether or not to admit his feelings to you. He’s troubled himself with the thought for perhaps a couple of months now—according to your own counting—that you curiously wonder if he has ever felt it.

Surely he has, being quite the empath that he is. You’ve come to the presumption that both of you are just too shy to admit it to each other.

The predicament has made you forget about your headphones, which you took off and unintentionally dropped to the floor when the blackout happened; the music was still playing but it had already switched to a new song. Cal used the Force to bring it to his hands.

“Air’s getting a little thin, don’t you think?” you blurted softly.

Cal didn’t reply; he saw that your eyes are droopy, your breathing is slow and labored, and your face relaxed into a calm expression. He can barely suck in enough air to fill both lungs. The deprivation was getting to him as well.

Your entire body felt heavy too. Your eyes gaze down on Cal’s open hand facing up. You clench your own fist while fighting your hand from inching closer—you came to a stalemate with yourself and flimsily plopped your hand on the floor, just mere centimeters away from Cal’s. You parroted his posture—head leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling, conserving your air with slow, calm breaths.

Bit by bit, you felt warm flesh nudge against the curve of your hand between the thumb and the forefinger—it was Cal’s knuckle. Your fingers flinched, and slowly he intertwines his with yours; it began with the first inches until it evolved into a clasp. You comforted each other with the warmth radiating from your hands that is now spreading across your bodies. It was a little silly, naïve idea at first, but you could’ve sworn you felt his heartbeat follow after yours.

A relieved sigh escapes your nostrils as you manage a smile—not bothering to hide it this time, you thought: if he sees it, so be it. Cal indeed felt your smile and did so himself. He dared to squeeze your hand softly but securely while the two of you wait out the power to return. Just when everything seemed to be taking too long and hopeless… the lights burst back into life, all the air from the surface blew in vigorously into the auxiliary engine room, and the entire power panel bellowed!

“Oh good, the power’s back on,” Cal mumbled, slightly groggy from the oxygen deprivation.

“Good, I knew BD would come through—and Greez too,”

You and Cal, together, fixated your eyes on your intercrossed hands. He shot you a fond, tender gaze that’s usually paired with his boyishly charming smile—the kind of smile that’s so hard to read, whether he was teasing with you or mischievously planning to mess around. You’re convinced that it was the former.

“Shall we get to work?”

“Let’s take a breather for a few minutes…” you shuffled in your seat, not planning to let go of his hand any time soon. “This actually feels nice.”

Cal slowly lowered his head so his cheek rests atop your head. You felt his thumb run across the skin of the back of your hand while the two of you rest and recover until, eventually, both of you drifted to a nap.

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behot · 4 years

Text

turn to hate

Character: Inquisitor! Cal Kestis

Pairings: none

Rating: pg-13

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, dark/heavy themes, description of self-hatred, emotional repression

a/n: listen idk what else to warn y’all it’s some blurbs about inquisitor!Cal’s experience with the darkside, falling deeper into the dark. His unhealthy reactions to unhealthy situations, it’s not a feel good fic its a Deep Thoughts and How Do Emotions Work fic. Character study for Calquisitor. It’s also my first fic here, so any thoughts or responses would be appreciated! Let me know if I need to add anything to the warnings

Title song: Turn to Hate - Orville Peck

MASTERLIST

He wondered how he ended up like this.

The fortress and Bracca were eerily the same. Scrapper or inquisitor, neither was better or worse. Why was he always tearing apart his past with his own hands?

Anger wasn’t very different from the fear that kept him motivated before. Both kept him moving when it felt like nothing was left, lit a fire in his core that kept him running. Anger was a comfort, and was better than the misery that would swallow him whole if he ever stopped to breathe. So he kept his head underwater, where what he had done was muffled, as he sank lower and lower.

Hatred was easy when he hated himself. Manic energy was better than the guilt and hopelessness that promised to tear him apart if he ever stopped. So he trained and trained, until the red of his lightsaber stopped reminding him of the blood on his hands. He cut down countless droids until he was cutting down troopers. He trained until the arena walls stopped blurring with the white of another practice arena (one from a ship that used to float above Bracca), and until he could use the force without it tearing him up inside and out. It burned, but he couldn’t stop. Even if his path promised nothing but his own destruction.

The Second Sister liked to gloat about her success in bringing him in and breaking him down. When she was particularly haughty, she would brag as such to him.

“Look at what you have become, pup. Look how far you’ve fallen since I dragged you down.”

She never treated it like a good thing, her breaking him down and keeping the pieces. At least she had the decency to never act like she raised him up, instead that she dragged him down with her to drown.

A real fallen angel.

“It took so long to teach you some obedience, but here you are. You became the very thing you once swore to destroy!”

Cal sneered and reached for his lightsaber, but she was quick to grab his arm.

“Ah. Not so fast, mutt.” Her fingers clamped a bruising grip as she tightened her hold. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you if you have nowhere else to go.”

Her yellow eyes bore into his, almost begging for a confrontation. Goading him to strike at her, and lose everything. Instead, he tore his arm out of her grasp, and bowed his head.

He couldn’t see it, but he was sure she was grinning.

“Good boy. You were once so persistent. I’m glad to have beaten that out of you, too.”

Shame brushed his limbs, swirled in the air. Maybe he’d have proven her wrong, not so long ago. Maybe, in another life, he would have left her abusive hands and turned against the Empire again.

Maybe, in another life, he never joined the Empire at all.

But this time, all he could do was turn his heel and walk away, rage burning in his chest until he could taste smoke on his tongue. It only burned hotter as he realized that this was exactly what she wanted.

Above water was who he once was but he had nowhere to go but down. As if rocks were tied to his ankles, he was sinking deeper, deeper, deeper. It was a real paradox, unable to stop burning as he drowned under the water.

Unlike the fallen angels, he never had a choice.

Whenever Cal looked into a mirror, it always felt like his reflection was mocking him. Like he was an impostor in his own life, acting the role he was given until he had to believe it himself. He didn’t know who he really was, but his reflection always did.

He woke up restless, plagued by dreams that weren’t quite nightmares (memories, something inside him whispered, of a city that stretched across an entire planet and soft brown robes that kept him warm), and he went to his refresher. There, he cupped his hands and drank water from the faucet until he felt a little more real, and peered at his reflection.

Yellow eyes stared back and reminded him of who he was, what he had become. They always taunted him, mocking his failures, his falling. Failing his master, failing Prauf, Cere. All he ever did was fail those he cared about the most. Failed to protect them, and failed to live up to what they fought for.

He stared into those yellow eyes, and for a split second he remembered blue ones instead.

Anger shot through him - from the feeling of longing he felt of who he once was, from the disgust of who he had become, he couldn’t tell - and glass shattered with the force of his palm. The counter table cracked under his grip. He didn’t realize what he’d done until his blood smeared across the marble.

All you could ever do was destroy. How perfect you must fit in here.

The spark of anger was gone, extinguished by whatever emotion filled his lungs and tightened his throat. He couldn’t ignite his anger again when such misery put out the flames, so instead he hung his head and he cried.

Cal looked outside the viewport with little interest. In contrast to the deep blacks and dark reds that decorated the room, the explosion outside was ridiculously bright and colorful. Blinding white and yellow, with shocks of green and blue.

Supernovae used to intrigue him as a youngling, his innocence and youth finding awe at the phenomena. Something that was destined in the force to happen, something so massive in such a large galaxy, and he was there to witness it. To see a single star collapse, and then explode outward into something much larger than it once was.

Now, however, he didn’t see much wonder.

It was just another moment in a galaxy full of stars that would all explode eventually. Full of stars that explode every rotation.

The door behind him slid open, but he didn’t have to turn around to see who had entered. The Second Sisters reflection was easily seen in the viewport reflection, and she took a moment to stand there before removing her helmet and moving beside him.

“Inspiring, isn’t it?” She seemed to ponder, and Cal tried not to scowl. “A star, celestial and larger than life, one that has burned bright for millennia. Long enough to see more than one empire rise and fall.”

She should watch her mouth. Such a statement could easily be taken as a sign of treason, of deflection.

“A star that probably provided life. A point of light in a sky of darkness.” Something unpleasant settled in Cal’s stomach, churning at her words. “Yet, as the force has willed it, it’s doom is inevitable. It burns only to burn itself out, and collapse when all fuel is gone.”

She grinned at his reflection, and he made a point to look away from hers and focus on the sight in front of him. He tried very hard to find interest in a certain tendril of gas, watching as it slowly changed shades of red as it dispersed into nothingness. It didn’t stop her from talking.

“And so it has one final, valiant show of life. Something that has lived a life so large, so unstable, that there’s no other way it could go out of the galaxy. And when the dust settles, new stars begin to form, and the cycle continues. Again and again.”

There’s a terrible feeling that crawls up Cal’s spine, joining the weight in his stomach. The Second Sister’s eyes fixed on the supernova with an odd amount of glee.

“But sometimes, like a phoenix, out of the ashes rises something greater. Something far more powerful. For even a star, with the pull of it’s light, cannot match the gravity of a black hole.”

Somewhere there, where the core of the star once was, light was bending and twisting. An insatiable vacuum that knew nothing but darkness; not even light could escape its pull. He could almost see it there in the colors, already sucking away at the remains.

The light will fall, as darkness demands.

“We are all luminous beings,” the Second Sister continues, turning to Cal and pressing her helmet against his chest. On autopilot, his hands come up to hold it. “And I cannot wait to see the fallout of the explosion you have created.”

Cal barely registers the sound of her footsteps, or the hiss of the door closing behind her. He looks into the empty eyes of her helmet, at his reflection in the dark, until he can’t stand the nausea bubbling up his throat.

For a brief moment he considers throwing the helmet into the steel wall behind him. Let the satisfying feeling of everything she stood for shatter at his hands. Instead, he lets the helmet drop onto the floor, the clatter echoing with her words.

He already knew the path that he was on. So why did her words make his hands shake, and make a panic rise that threatened to choke him?

There’s an aftershock outside the viewport, another small burst of light adding more colors to the star’s grave. Maybe, in another lifetime, the graveyard turns into a nursery for new stars, creating light to fight the darkness.

Maybe, in another lifetime, the star had never died at all.

But this time, powerful and hungry, the black hole is just beginning to eat at the dust and the light, it’s gravity inevitable. And all Cal does is step over the dropped helmet and leave the lounge, not looking back.

Sometimes he wondered if he should have tried to swim. If he even had a chance. The light gets smaller the farther he falls, darkness the only promise on the path he was dragged to.

Did he ever have a choice?

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shiningso1o · 4 years

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Reborn § Cal Kestis x Reader [1]

Summary: You are a Bounty Hunter, tasked with catching Cal Kestis for your boss, Sorc Tormo. However, plans change, and it's up to you and Cal to fight alongside one another. On a quest to find the sacred Jedi texts, you and the Mantis crew run into trouble—trouble by the name of the Empire.

Warnings: Mild violence, mild threat, injury

Some things that you will find in nature are quite remarkable. There are certain plants, for example, that have the ability to grow—or even thrive—in conditions that definitely don't seem habitable. You will occasionally see brightly coloured petals blooming amidst murky, muddy swamp lakes, their pinks and reds standing out against the dull brown water. It is quite a rare sight, but striking nevertheless, and you will find yourself staring at that particular flower for ages. You hoped that one day, you would be able to be reborn from the worst possible conditions too, just like those flowers.

As it turned out, the waters you resided in were far too polluted for even the strongest, most beautiful flowers to emerge from. Namely, the Grand Arena, where Bounty Hunters provided the hunted and gamblers would flock to in order to place bets or simply enjoy a battle between two or more creatures. It wasn't the most dignified place in the galaxy.

You reviewed this fact in your mind as you stood, waiting, with your back pressed against a sturdy brick wall and your arms crossed tightly over your chest. This wasn't an unusual position for you to be in—in fact, it was a common occurrence—but you still felt, in that moment, as though you were sinking further into those swamp waters. Maybe it was the steadily loosening grip you had on your morals; maybe it was because you were doing so well in the place. You didn't know, but you couldn't decide whether you wanted to or not.

A door to your right opened, causing you to look up. Behind it stood a droid; tall with long, metallic limbs and a cylindrical head. "Hey ON-4," you greeted the ON-unit.

The droid stood back, pulling the door wide open. "Sorc Tormo requests you now."

You shuffled past ON-4, patting him on the shoulder as you did so. Stepping into the room, you marvelled, as you had done many times before, at the spaciousness of the place. In comparison to the rest of the building's grey, rock walls, dim lighting and compact cells, this room was lavish. Lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating ever corner and allowing no shadows to hide there. Every piece of furniture was made from a rich fabric or lustrous metal, colours varying from deep crimsons to navy blues and shiny golds. Everything about the place reeked of power and money.

In the centre was a sleek white desk, where an Umbaran man sat in silver robes. He rose, outstretching his arms as you approached. "(Y/N)(L/N), one of my favourite Hunters," he began. You leaned over and shook his hand before taking a seat across from him. "Did you see that fight yesterday? The poor Espirion didn't stand a chance against that Wookie."

You nodded in response, but honestly had no idea what Tormo was referring to. "What did you need me for?" You figured that cutting to the chase would be your best bet.

Tormo sat up in his seat. "Well," he said, resting his elbows on the desk. "There's someone I want. The Brood were successful last time, but the target outwitted and outfought us. Now, the bounty on his head is even larger, and get this-" He moved closer and lowered his voice. "-the Empire are the ones after him."

"The Empire," you echoed. You watched as Tormo relaxed in his seat. "I thought bringing people in for the Empire is what Troopers and Inquisitors are for."

Tormo shrugged. "They're desperate. The pay depends on his condition, and if you bring him in with his crew too."

"Wait, this guy has a whole-"

You were silenced by Tormo raising his hand. "Relax, (Y/N). I'll recruit some others to keep their ship busy, whilst you go and get him yourself."

"Sounds like a plan." It seemed relatively simple—just one guy was a walk in the park for you. He had beaten the Haxion brood, but you were sure you'd be able to do a better job than them.

"Good. We can split the money, seventy-thirty," Tormo continued. It wasn't a great deal in your eyes, but you knew that it was guaranteed with him, and hoped that maybe it'd be enough to get you out of the business for good; you sighed internally and stood to shake Tormo's hand once more.

"I won't let you down," you promised. You retracted your hand to see a tracker slipped in by Tormo, with it's soft red light blinking slowly.

"I know." His words were kind, but you knew him well enough to recognise the malice and warning behind them. "It's not a long journey, I've been given the word that he's headed here already."

"Easy."

"That's right. Easy," Tormo repeated. "Be careful, though—he's a persistent one." You backed out of the room as Tormo spoke. Shooting him one last grin, you slipped out, patting ON-4 on the shoulder as you did so. The door was promptly slammed shut behind you, and you found yourself alone.

You spared no time in making your way through the maze of hallways. Almost like reflex, you turned corners, swung on ropes and shuffled through thin passages. It was as if a map was stored in your brain; you didn't even have to think to climb onto one ledge here or press a button to open a door there. After all, you had spent over a year working for Sorc Tormo, hunting down the unfortunate and bringing them to his ship. You joined his team after leaving the Nevarro Guild, believing that it would provide you with stable pay, as well as guaranteed loyalty. Tormo had a reputation for always staying true to his word, no matter what, and only punishing those who didn't reciprocate this honesty. He was a lot of things, but at least he wasn't a liar or a cheat.

It wasn't long before you arrived at the landing port. It was a relatively large area, where visitors, gamblers and Hunters left their vehicles. You made your way over to your speeder, which you had recently acquired off of a trader when the ship had first arrived on Tatooine (Tormo's vast ship usually floated around between the stars, but he had recently taken a liking to the planet and decided to stay there). You climbed on, then tugged your mask above your nose and your goggles down so your face was protected from the scorching heat and blinding sand of Tatooine. It wasn't your favourite place to be—you were more used to the balanced weather of a city, not extreme conditions such as this, but it was better than having to stare out into the endless blackness of space all the time. You switched your engine on and set off into the desert.

As you steered the speeder with one hand, you clutched onto the charm that hung from your neck with the other. It was a simple, translucent crystal attached to a thing string. You had been gifted it by your younger sister before she died. You couldn't risk losing it.

The nearest village (and one of the only) wasn't too far away, and it had a more accessible landing station, so you figured that if the target really was headed towards Tatooine, he would go there. The rest of Tatooine was mainly flat, stretched out pieces of dry land or rolling sand dunes anyway. As you approached, the tracker began to emit a high-pitched beeping sound. You glanced at it briefly, and observed it flashing on and off frequently. That must mean he's here already, you thought. This'll have to be a quick job.

Soon after, you entered the village and slowed your speeder to a halt. It was busy, not only with villagers trading food and spare parts, but with stormtroopers roaming every corner. You guided your speeder to a wall and shut it off. As you stared up at the building opposite, you scaled it with your mind. Then, you grabbed onto two bumps in the rock, digging your boots into crevices lower down and began to climb up. The building was only small, so you easily reached the top. You knelt down on the flat roof, feeling the heat seep out of the rock, through your pants and burn your skin. Ignoring the discomfort, you surveyed the area. You could see almost the entire village from where you perched, but witnessed nothing unusual.

Having been a Bounty Hunter for a few years, you could usually tell who your target was without knowing their appearance. The majority of them shared commonalities, most of which were nervousness, suspiciousness or the tendency to jump at anything remotely unexpected. Most of them knew of the bounties on their heads, so were particularly cautious with every move they made.

But everything looked perfectly calm to you, beside the small groups of stormtroopers here and there. You checked the tracker once again. The beeping was consistent, not rising or falling in speed as anyone approached or moved away from your position. You frowned, then peered closer. Maybe the orientation is wrong? Or maybe it's the direction, you thought as you span around. The frequency picked up, and the flashes became faster as you faced away from the village. You took a step closer to the direction and the sound sped up. Then a step backwards—it slowed. Where could this guy possibly be? you wondered. And then you saw it. In the distance, stood the ruins of a temple.

#star wars #jedi fallen order #cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #gender neutral reader #cere junda #greez dritus #nightsister merrin #merrin x reader #fanfic

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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What You Fear To Lose (3)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by: Anon | Prompt:

Okay so maybe a fic where Cal keeps having nightmares and visions when he meditates of the reader dying and the events leading up to her death. He starts being really protective and the reader tries to reassure him shes fine. But on a mission things start happening that he saw in the visions before the reader dies and gets really on edge. You can decide how it ends, aka reader dying in cals arms to make me cry or him saving her to also make me cry! Sorry if this is too much!!💕

Tags: Near-death! Reader

Previous: Part 2 | Masterlist

3 of 3

The Fifth Brother finally drops you to the floor, half-dead and barely holding onto your last thread of life.

“NOOOO!!”

Cal flung himself back on the surface and landing a strike on the Fifth Brother. Astounded, the Inquisitor witnesses the rage of a Jedi—their strength and biggest downfall—he realizes that he is not yet done with this fight. Cal’s heart rate is going through the roof, factoring from the race against time in completing the objective and saving you, along with the head-to-head duel with the Fifth Brother.

“You think your sudden burst of power will save you? Foolish boy! Join her in death then!”

Stuck in a clash of blades, Cal managed to turn the Inquisitor’s guard down, slipped past him and afforded himself a strike from behind. You struggled to turn your eyes to the battle, you raise a weak hand directed at the Inquisitor, and while Cal was busy trying to lower the enemy’s guard, you stole the Inquisitor’s lightsaber—in one last effort, you flung it while it was still activated straight into the main power pillar.

White sparks flew in all directions from the main power pillar, with the surge of power clashing with one another, the Fifth Brother’s lightsaber was destroyed in the process.

“No…”

Before the Fifth Brother could further react, Cal kicked him down the shaft, his back colliding with the lower walkways as he fell. From the outside, Cham saw the result of your work and the fighters have picked up their momentum. Cal ran up to you, fell to his knees, and cradled you.

“[y/n]? [y/n], stay with me, baby. Come on…”

You struggled to keep your eyes open.

“Cal… I can’t… it hurts…” you sobbed.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he whispered frantically.

“You have to go…”

“No, I’m not leaving you!”

In a last resort, he attempted the only thing that he has never done up until now. He tried to remain calm in a span of a few seconds while hell was breaking loose. He places his hand on your stomach, just near the stab wound, and focused whatever Life Force he can muster into you. For a moment, it felt like cold water was running across your skin until the sensation touched your organs.

In return, Cal felt exhausted and sluggish. It’s as if the toll of the duel had finally reached his body, though he felt the rush even after he’d kicked the Fifth Brother down.

It felt good… but it was only enough for the both of you.

“[y/n]…? Can you stand?”

“I… I’ll try…” you whimpered.

All of a sudden, standing up became difficult for him; it felt too much of an effort for him—in addition to having you hanging by his shoulder—as he hobbled you out of the chamber.

“Come on, [y/n], we’re almost out of here,”

The path that seemed like a quick sprint for him transformed into a strenuous, long trek. He brought the commlink attached to his gauntlet to his mouth.

“Cham, the main generator’s destroyed…! We need reinforcements in the stronghold… now!”

“My men are on their way to you already!” Cham radioed.

“Hurry, [y/n] is hurt real bad!”

“Hold fast, we’re coming!”

The urgency in Cham’s voice was a relief, but the probability of his men reaching you seemed bleak. Cal has never been this terrified in his life and this was a horrible first time for him. Never in his life did he expected a premonition to come true. He used his strength to scoop you up from the floor and into his arms as he strode through the hallway, destroying the control panels of the blast doors to bar the Stormtroopers that might tail him.

I thought… I could stop it…

I thought… I could protect her!

And now she’s dying!

“Please, [y/n], not now!” he begged.

“Cal…” you barely breathed. “I can’t… anymore…”

“No, we’re gonna make it. You’re gonna make it!”

“I don’t think…”

“Come on now, just a few more steps! We’re almost there!” he whimpered tearfully, holding you ever closer to him. “Please, don’t go out quietly on me!”

His determination was also in shambles. His conscience has been shattered into half—a part of him believed you can make it, the other believed that this premonition is materializing, no matter how it went, the result shall remain the same as it was in the dreams: Cal will witness you die right in front of him.

As he dragged his lethargic body along with his precious cargo in tow, all the while, he’s mentally struggling it all. He has come this far already, he wouldn’t let himself go down this easily.

“Cham… where are you? Cere…?” Cal sobbed. “Please… help…”

Eventually, the young Jedi fumbled to the floor. His vision began darkening around the edges. He crawled behind a metal crate and dragged your body with him. Your eyes were closed and you were very still.

“NO! [Y/N]!!”

That cry siphoned out a lot of energy remaining in him, he repeated your name many times until your eyes could open again. He cradled you again, shaking you with every time he said your name.

“Cal…” your voice was barely within his earshot, but he heard it. He heard it.

“I’m here… Baby, I’m here…!”

“I’m sorry…” you weakly muttered, barely able to string words together form a complete sentence. “Save yourself…”

“No, no, it’s okay! Cham is coming, help is on the way…” he choked on tears. “I promise!”

The exhaustion is creeping up to him, slowly devouring and numbing his body. His eyelids were heavy, he could barely keep his eyes open. The explosive burst of the blast door didn’t do much in getting a reaction from him anymore, a familiar face shows up right in front of him.

It’s Cere.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here!” she said with a tenacity and an uncontrollable desire to protect.

“Cere… came through… save her…”

The poor young Jedi, having the burden of the battle weighed on him, blacked out after registering in his mind that Cere has finally arrived.

Cal later wakes up in what ought to be the medical bay of the stronghold. The blinding white lights danced behind his eyes, the low humming of the air-conditioning rung close to him, he found his hands stripped of his gloves and climbing claws only to be replaced with bandages. A slight nudge of his arm made him feel the cold tingle of a drip needle stuck into his arm.

“Boo-woop! Boo!” BD-1 chirped.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Cere, standing at the foot of the bed, greeted.

“BD? Cere?”

“We did it, Cal. Cham has reclaimed the stronghold. He decided that this med-bay would be a better option that the medical supplies back—”

“Where is she?” he immediately snapped.

Cere exchanged glances with the little droid sitting on Cal’s lap. She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat as she carefully gathers the words in her mind that she’ll say to him.

“Is she safe? Is she alright?”

Cere sighed, the same resigned look was painted in her face again, only this time it was more somber.

The medical droid supported Cal in sitting up and finally bringing his feet to the floor. Cere took over and supported Cal by his side, making herself his crutch as they hobbled out of his med-bay room. Luckily, the ward where you’ve been placed is not far from his.

“We’re here,”

They come across a room whose front wall was a whole sheet of thick glass. In the center of the room, a group of medical droids—namely a GH-7 medical analysis droid, an FX-6 medical assistant, and a 2-1B. Cal watched them hover around your unconscious body in all sides as they extract the necessary medical data, reflecting their findings in hologram projections that were visible to even the visitors outside the room.

The GH-7 droid hovered towards Cal to report its diagnosis. Its emphatic voice was somewhat reassuring and soothing as it spoke, its perceptiveness on the patient gave Cal a stroke of comfort when he demanded to know the status of your health.

“She is very lucky,” the droid’s empathic voice purred. “And very strong.”

Cal noticed the hanging tone at the end of its sentence, he prompted it to continue.

“Fortunately, the penetration wound found in her abdomen did not rupture any of her vital organs. In fact, it barely missed the bottom of her left lung. However, the severity of her wounds factored to her needing immediate surgery. It’s a miracle that she was able to hold on in such a nearly-long period of time. The weapon used on her—to some extent—saved her. It cauterized her wounds both on the arm and torso, therefore lessened the blood loss. If it was any other weapon, she would have bled to death, and she would’ve died instantly.”

“Has she woken up ever since she got here?”

The droid hung its flat-faced head and gestured with its arms attached with various apparatus.

“No, I am afraid she is in a state of comatose. Her chances of waking up appear bleak. We are currently figuring out how long she’ll remain unconscious; until then, we can only hope. It is in my analysis that comatose patients—albeit in a sleep-like state—are still capable of hearing voices when being spoken to. You may do so in a few minutes. Please, excuse me.”

The droid gave a quick bow before turning around and hovering back into your ward. A few minutes later, it kept its promise and allowed you to go inside your ward. Cal sat down by your bedside, studying the hologram projections of your vitals’ readings as the droids hovered about, continuing their data extraction.

“[y/n]? We did it,” Cal whispered. “You did it, my brave little girl.”

He gently took your hand into his, feeling the softness of your palm and the warmth that you radiated. Even before he could utter a word, he was already choking while blinking away the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Please…” he muttered as he stared at the stillness of your face. “Please, fight. Please wake up soon. Until then, I’ll be waiting for you. Be strong, [y/n].”

He fought back the tears, telling you how brave you were in fighting the Inquisitor, if it wasn’t for you then he wouldn’t have defeated him. He promised you things that the two of you would do once you’ve awakened—he’ll take you to a trip to Takodana, knowing that you would love the fresh air and swimming in its great lakes, he’ll make Maz serve the best booze in the castle just for the two of you, and so many more things that you would have absolutely loved.

“Only if you promise me you’d wake up, won’t you, [y/n]?”

“Cal,” Cere tenderly called, not intending to break up his moment with you. “Come on, you need your rest too if you’re gonna keep your promises to her.”

“Yeah, I just… give me another minute,” he wiped the tears off his cheeks with his bandaged hands. He leaned closer to you, planting a kiss on your forehead before he leaves.

“Rest well, my love.”

As he turned away, he didn’t see the single tear that escaped the corner of your eye and the faint twitch of your fingers.

His voice, his words—you heard them all.

Even in your subconscious, you coax yourself harder than ever before to fight back, to regain your strength and fulfill your end of the promise.

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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Two Sides of the Coin (1)

Chapter 1: Vengeful Vader | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: I’ve had this idea since April, I’ve already made the outline and everything. But back then I was afraid that it might not be well-received for silly reasons borne from my overthinking. Until an Anon sent this prompt a few weeks or so after I’ve made the original outline. Turns out, I just needed that little push… so, a big thank you to Anon for adding up to the plot and allowing me to finally use my precious OC for this story! ^w^

I wanted to show this to you guys, I just couldn’t wait ^^ : @berenilion @wrongplaces @stellar-trinity @queen-destenie @peterwandaparker @calgasm @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @sweeetteaa @calsponchoemporium @ayamenimthiriel @superwarsofthrones @fallenjedii @droidrights @cal-jestis

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidne Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

1 of ?

Darth Vader barely contained the sea overflowing and flooding into the broken glass that the wretched Jedi boy created. While this was no stretch for himself and his abilities, the sight of the boy and the adult woman swimming away to safety while he holds back a wall of water greatly vexed him.

That frustration evolved into anger, Darth Vader literally cut through the tunnel of water using the Force. The water gave way like servants to a king, he had both hands outstretched to the sides, the ripples swirled unnaturally to follow the whim of the Force under Vader’s manipulation. He marched through the corridor and finally reached the end with the door, seawater sloshed and gave for the dark lord.

The door whizzed open, but not a single drop of the sea entered—only Darth Vader. He can now finally rest his arms. The ocean raged in the other side of the door, the bubbling seawater muffled through the blast door. The Sith lord hurried his way to what little remained of the turbolift. He was safe inside that cylinder, away from drowning; he set the elevator to bring him to the highest level, the upper hangars were his destination.

“Commander,” Vader called through the commlink available in the turbolift’s terminal.

“Lord Vader?” the commander acknowledged.

“Have my ship ready in the hangar,”

“Yes, Lord Vader, I’ll personally send you the hangar coordinates,”

Silence on Vader’s end until the transmission cut. Seconds after the call, a tone chirped on the screen of the terminal. A string of text comprised of a single letter and three numbers flashed white against the black screen.

C-848.

Darth Vader knows the location. He remained poised and erect in his posture as he stood at the center of the lift, arms crossed together, head slightly hung low—in this kind of position, he often found himself meditating involuntarily. Although, he preferred his own chambers. The elevator rumbled, the lights flickered for a brief second, and the doors hissed open.

He stepped out of the platform, proceeded along the corridors of the uppermost levels of the fortress. Keeping the hangar coordinates in mind, he knew where a path leads in this place, after all, it was modeled and referenced after his own fortress back in Mustafar. He found the same commander standing by the entrance door of hangar C-848.

“Welcome, Lord Vader. We have your ship prepped, fully-fueled, and calibrated for travel.”

“Very good, Commander. See to it that the damaged areas below sea level are repaired before this whole building collapses.”

The dark lord did not stop his tracks for the niceties. He continued striding across the hangar towards a shuttle; its sleek, ivory body gleamed and stood out against the black, tiled floor of the hangar—emphasizing the symbolism of its elite status and the regal sophistication of its design.

The officer followed his master, but within a safe distance behind him while still in Vader’s earshot. He dared to lean forward, as if hoping to get a reaction from this lumbering machine of a man.

“But, sir, the fortress’s foundation is impregnable! Three to five maintenance units can easily rectify the critical areas and restore the integrity of the building.”

“I do not have the fool’s faith as you do when it comes to infrastructures, Commander. You either do as I say or go down into the bottom of the ocean with the rest of this tower!” Vade rebuked, his strides becoming wider, indicating his impatience and growing annoyance on the commander.

When the officer realized that he has raised his voice against Darth Vader—even for just a pitch higher—he softened up, withdrawing to retain his distance, and felt his stomach sank. Quickly, he thought of a way to ease the lord’s mind or shift his attention somewhere else; he overthought so much that the vein on his temple throbbed—both in self-imposed sheer pressure and fear of what Darth Vader might do to him for speaking back.

“Has the Emperor been reported of this whole ordeal?” he stammered.

Not wishing any more elaborations in this banter, he uses this simple line to leave little to no room for arguments, “Leave all of that to me.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The commander got the hint that there should be no more words further said, he dismissed himself to the command center of the hangar, praying for himself to melt and dissolve into the floor for that exchange, wishing that the last few lines he had traded with the dark lord had never happened.

Darth Vader continued to march through the hangar. His cape billowed with every step, flanked by rows upon rows of Stormtroopers—with militantly straight backs and hands cradling their blasters in an unwavering steadiness—on both of his sides. A pair of crimson-robed guards stood by the entry ramp of the shuttle; hydraulic steam wafted about the vibrant red fabric of their capes while awaiting their master, they didn’t move a single muscle until Darth Vader has fully set foot into the shuttle. They were the last one to board the ship as they flanked behind the Sith lord.

The pilot asked the destination, Vader simply replied with the coordinates of the planet he wishes. Without question, the pilot enters the combination of letters and numbers into the computer, the ship’s system quickly registered the data. He relayed the coordinates to Darth Vader’s command ship, to be immediately done upon his boarding.

“Setting course for Modala.” The pilot announced.

By rote, the pilot connected his speakers to the hangar’s bridge and underwent the standard procedure and protocols—as everybody in any Imperial establishment does: he recites the monotonous, robotic pattern of sentences that he relays to the command center—in return, an operations officer verifies and authorizes the take-off of the shuttle.

The ship was finally allowed to leave the hangar. The sooner they get out of the building, the better, thought Vader—sinking into the sea floor with black fortress debris wasn’t exactly part of his itinerary in this planet. In a bird’s-eye view, the tower looked fine; it shrank in size as the shuttle gained altitude, for a brief second, sheets of clouds obscured Vader’s view of the deep black space. The ship finally pored through Nur’s stratosphere; the tiny ivory speck that is the Imperial shuttle zipped towards one of the bigger ships—the Star Destroyers.

“This is shuttle Revenant, with Darth Vader requesting boarding into command ship Paradox,” the pilot announced casually through the microphone of the cockpit dashboard.

A muffled voice crackled through the speakers, “Request permitted, shuttle Revenant. Proceed to boarding hatch. Welcome, Lord Vader.”

The shuttle hovered itself into an open hatch in the underbelly of the bigger ship. Tractor beams braced the small vessel on both sides and drew it further into the command ship’s interior. A slight quake in the Revenant signaled that they have successfully boarded the Paradox. A tunnel walkway connected the exit ramp into the wide hallway floor of the command ship, Darth Vader saw himself out of the Revenant—flanked by the crimson Royal Guards—and made his way to the bridge, where the operators have already charted a course to Modala and punched it when Vader set foot into the ship.

At the center of the bridge, in front of a window of a full view, stood Vader gazing back at the cluster of Nur—its planet as well as its moons. The sight of the fortress long gone, the dark lord turned his attention to the vacuum of nothingness as black as the heavy armor that cages him.

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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The Haunt of Redemption (9)

Sequel to: A Path I Can’t Follow

Chapter 9: The Turn of the Tide | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis, Redemption Arc! Cal Kestis

Notes: YOU GUYS, I AM ALMOST DONE!!! AAAHHH ;;A;;

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Chapter 8 | Next: Chapter 10 | Masterlist

9 of 11

You afforded to regain your strength for the rest of the trip. The experience of being under the infliction of Cal’s Psychometry replayed over and over again in your body, certain sensations struck your nerves, the sharp pangs of the intrusive nature of his ability caused your heart to burst in between beats. The mental pain was so numbing and breathtaking, it was almost physical.

His words—the way he delivered them with his demanding tone—the expressions riddled with ulterior motives plastering his face flashed repeatedly before your eyes, and the way he looked at you was a confusing yet interesting medley of mercy and quiet sadism.

And yet, you still have the will to forgive him.

You lost track of how much time has passed since you were taken away from Alyon. While it would seem like you don’t have much time, your faith never wavered. However, you were also making peace with yourself should this be the day they bring you to the Dark Side or they die trying.

“Comfortable?” the Inquisitor declared during a visit in your cell.

“I’ve had better lodgings,” you blankly remarked. “Are you going to kill me when we arrive?”

“No,” he subtly shakes his head, you detect a twinge of mercy in his voice. “By the time you set foot in the fortress, you will become an Inquisitor—more powerful than any Jedi or Inquisitor.”

“That’s a delusion they sell to you, and you actually took the bait,”

Apparently, he refuses to be lectured, but you still kept going.

“A Jedi could never understand,” he concludes the exchange and leaves the cell.

The entire ship rumbled when its landing gears touched the hangar’s floor. Later, the Eleventh Brother comes into your cell alone to collect you. He unclips your lightsaber from your belt first before doing the restraints. He took a brief moment to gaze at you, before bending down to the floor. Your feet twitched when you felt his clutch around your leg. Surprisingly, he was gentle in dismantling the restraints around your ankles, and then he stood up to do the same around your wrists.

You rubbed away the chafe around your hands before the Eleventh Brother produced a set of cuffs and wore them on you.

“Of course, more restraints.” You blurted.

A humorless smile pursed his lips after hearing that comment. The both of you exited the cell and walked towards the entry ramp; the main door hissed as it unfolded and steam sputtered out of its hydraulics. The boy Inquisitor gingerly puts his hand on the small of your back—which made you flinch—and shepherded you out of the ship.

Both of you marched across the walkway into the fortress, flanked by the squad of Stormtroopers that accompanied him during your capture. It was a first for you to walk into the stronghold without having the need to infiltrate it. Your head tilted up, following the height of the fortress’s spire—it was mountainous in height as you walked. The hollow sound of metal clanging and lava bubbling were the noise in the background of this foreboding place.

An officer standing by the main entrance greeted them. The Inquisitor curtly acknowledged it, he turned to the Stormtroopers at the flank—ordering that only two of them to follow—and continued to escort you through the twists and turns inside. Eventually, the Inquisitor had brought you to the prison block—the layout was intricate, tiers upon tiers of cells arranged in orderly rows, it was like an insect hive except it housed prisoners for insidious purposes.

“Guards, I’ll take it from here,” the commanding, firm tone in his voice echoed in the sector. The Stormtroopers obliged and continued their patrolling in the block.

“In here,” the Inquisitor purred and nudged you to follow, his hand remained on your back.

The two of you disappeared into the elevator. Cal leaned against the wall at the back of the lift, arms crossed against one another, studying between the features inside the space and your side profile. The pungent musk of rainwater intruded the boy’s nostrils and memories briefly entered his mind—it was as if using Psychometry indirectly.

“Back at the beach, you said something,” you broke the silence.

“What is?” he responded nonchalantly, examining you from head to toe.

You turned around to face him, “That we always find our way back to each other. You said that in your recording too.”

“So, you’ve seen it,”

“I knew those words sounded familiar. That’s why I knew my Cal is still there.”

His eyelids dropped as he hung his head low, denying you a response.

“You just don’t realize you have the strength to acknowledge it,” you said before turning back to face the door.

“Oh, I do have the strength to acknowledge it,” he pushed himself away from the wall and towered next to you. “That Cal… is gone.”

His imposing stance didn’t intimidate you in the smallest bit; eyes of contrasting expressions loudly spoke with each other in the silent humming of the elevator.

“You once told me that we will always a choice. Are you sure this is yours?”

When you got no answer from that question, you return face to the door.

The elevator ceased to move, the floor beneath your feet briefly quaked, signaling your arrival to the designated floor. The door whizzed open, your breathing became shakier by the sight of the bridge leading to an apparent interrogation chamber.

Cal clutched your arm and led you out of the elevator with him. Your vision narrowed as you strode through the metal bridge. You have been keeping your cool since the trip, but now your shallow, rapid breathing betrayed the brave face you’ve put on. Stormtroopers stared at you when the two of you stopped by a checkpoint.

“Activate the bridge,” Cal commanded.

The Stormtrooper cranked a lever on his terminal and a bridge emerged to connect you to the chamber’s foyer.

“It’s ready, Eleventh Brother,” a Purge Trooper rifleman reported.

With a simple nod, every trooper stationed at the entrance of the chamber moved at the behest of the boy Inquisitor. The door rumbled at the push of a button and then it parted into four sides. Cal nudged you with his grip still around your arm, your feet dragged as he guided you up the set of stairs and into the actual chamber.

A trio of Stormtroopers and a pair of Purge Troopers followed into the chamber with you. A lone, silver contraption sat in the black midst, at its feet were the harsh crimson lights that colored the hydraulic steam that wafted about, and sparks flew out of the power cords that laced the walls. A uniformed officer was already inside the chamber preparing the terminal.

“It’s calibrated to the optimal setting, Eleventh Brother,”

“Good. Strap her in.”

Two Stormtroopers snatched you right up from Cal’s grasp and fixed you into the machine.

“Oh, wait.” Cal suddenly uttered and the Stormtroopers stopped in their tracks.

The Eleventh Brother lifted the back flap of your poncho and revealed BD-1 who has been hiding this whole time. For the first time ever, the little droid shied away from his second original owner.

“Don’t hurt him!” you barked.

“I won’t. Come on, BD,”

“If I find out you’re scrapping him for parts, I swear you’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Like that will ever happen,”

When the little droid isn’t budging, the young Inquisitor—with a sliver of compassion—handled BD by the head gently with his hand and unclamped the legs perched onto your jacket’s armor straps. As the droid was separated from you, his legs and antenna folded and then tucked his tiny body underneath his head; he was beeping in low, long tones—he was calling you for help, but he knew that he can’t break free from Cal’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, BD,”

“Wooo…!” the droid lowed as Cal’s finger found the switch.

“What are you doing!?” you glanced over your shoulder and watched Cal switch off BD, the little blue light in his scanner’s lens was fading away into the black glass. “BD-1!”

You saw the exact second where BD’s body went stiff as he was shut down. There wasn’t much you could do for him now. The Stormtroopers proceeded to bringing you to the contraption. Your steel restraints were replaced with cold, thick metal rings clasped around your wrists and ankles again as you lay your back flat against the contraption’s bed.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” you pleaded.

“No, he won’t get hurt…” Cal reassured, but suddenly a steely look pierced right at you. “But you will.”

A Purge Trooper stepped towards Cal to relay a report.

“Sir, he’s arrived.”

“Good. In the meantime, shall we give her a taste?”

That was a rhetoric. The Inquisitor nodded at the terminal operator and he turned the knob to give you a mild shock. It was a weak jolt enough to make you flinch and Cal made sure the next one will be much worse than the last. The operator flicked the knob to the succeeding notch, he’ll push the button at the order of the boy Inquisitor.

Meanwhile, the Grand Inquisitor’s shuttle arrived from an assignment in Malachor. The gaunt, dark figure marched through the hallways of the stronghold—everyone in his path gave way and gestured either salutes or brief bows, and he returned them with indifferent side glances as he walked by.

“Grand Inquisitor, the Eleventh Brother has returned with the Jedi girl who infiltrated the fortress before,” a Purge Trooper reports.

“Oh? And of the Holocron?”

“Uh…”

There was no answer that followed that question. The Grand Inquisitor picked up the hint that the boy wasn’t able to accomplish his true objective and instead followed his own. The Pau’an grumbled as he walked faster ahead of the Purge Trooper on the way to the specific interrogation chamber.

A distant echo of the elevator at the other side of the bridge signaled his arrival. The door whizzed and parted open, presenting the silhouette of the Grand Inquisitor. From your perspective, the figure was so tall that he covered the door frame from end to end. He stepped inside but remained within the shadows, a pair of amber eyes were the only things that stood out in the darkness.

“So, this is the ever-elusive Jedi. The crux of this wild goose chase,” the Grand Inquisitor hummed from where he stood.

You squint your eyes to make out his appearance: his eyebrows—or lack thereof—are in a perpetual furrow, two streaks tapered from his eyes and appeared like tears of blood staining his cheeks, and a piercing scowl from his golden eyes.

“Grand Inquisitor, I—”

Cal stepped closer to his mentor to report, he was caught off guard with the Grand Inquisitor struck the boy across his face with the back of his hand, the impact was snappy and you winced—as if feeling the sting of the slap on your own face. The Stormtroopers hid their reactions well behind their helmets, keeping their indifferent, emotionless demeanors.

“Foolish child!” the Grand Inquisitor roared, grabbing the boy by the collar of his uniform. “I tell you one thing expecting to have it done right. Have I not taught you common sense?! You replaced my one and only order with your own initiative!”

“Grand Inquisitor… I…” the boy gasped, “I can explain!”

“What then?!”

“She said she didn’t have it, but she’s opened the Holocron and saw its contents!”

“Are you absolutely sure?” the Pau’an growled, shaking the boy once more in his violent grasp.

“Yes!” Cal hissed, trying to match up to his master’s aggression.

The Grand Inquisitor’s features soften, he quickly shifted back to his calm demeanor. He carefully craned his neck towards the girl strapped to the silver machine.

“Hmm…” he grumbled.

He takes a second glance at the Eleventh Brother, his supposed protégé, and shoved the boy harshly to you.

“Make it as painful as you can. I know that is your specialty.” The Grand Inquisitor added.

The boy heeded his mentor’s request and took a deep breath. He pulled out his glove, a shaky hand closing in on you.

“Don’t…” you mouthed within his earshot, a noticeable teardrop twinkling at the edge of your eye.

He continued to bring his hand closer to you, his fingers brushed the threads of hair draping your sweat-covered forehead, and your cheek fitted just right in the center of his palm. You sensed that it pained him to do it—from the moment the Pau’an hit him on the face, you knew that he was acting out of fear in the guise of loyalty and obedience, it’s what the Grand Inquisitor wanted to establish in the first place.

The young Inquisitor focused hard, siphoning more thoughts and memories that he hasn’t fished out from the recesses of your subconscious. You shut your eyes as you fought him off in this mental tug-of-war. The more you backed away, the further he pushed on. It was more painful than it was the first time.

It felt like your brain bled as he sucked out whatever information he can take from you. The ripple of the dark side of the Force was hollow yet mind-numbing. You jerked and thrashed your head left and right, shaking off his influence but it found itself firmly clutching onto you—there seemed to be no escape.

“Cal… don’t…!” you began to screech in pain, he shushed you continuously, pressing his palm against your cheek further.

In your mind, he found that you’re building up a wall that he is constantly trying to break. You were denying him a glimpse of your mind but it was so exhausting, should you slip up in the slightest bit, then all of your efforts would be for naught.

“Don’t fight...” he whispered as he continued inflicting his Psychometry.

“I won’t let you…” you grunted.

It was a test of mental willpower. The desperate, young protégé pushed on, climbing on a wall that only seemed to get higher and higher; you were fighting back in your own way—subtle yet impactful, calm yet strong—and a voice kept speaking to you, although it uttered the very same words.

Guide those who are lost, the same way the Force guides you. Be their light when they can’t find any.

Instead of giving the boy Inquisitor what he wanted.

You gave him what he needed.

“Cal…” your lips barely moved, but he heard his name in that thin wisp of air that escaped your mouth. You slowly lifted your eyelids, his steely stare has softened into a tender, child-like gaze. “Find the light.”

For once, he felt the warmth that he yearned secretly—in the solace of his bedroom, in his lonesome amongst the Inquisitors in their common room, and even in his dreams—you gave him the one thing that he was deprived of all this time and couldn’t give it to himself.

Finally, you allowed him to steal a glimpse of what you have been holding in your mind. You tore down your walls and let him in. What he found were not answers—they were feelings and emotions, ones that he probably hasn’t felt a long while.

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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A Path I Can’t Follow (5)

Chapter 5: There’s Always Something Greater | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It was a matter of life and death—the question is, should it be the life of many or one, the death of many or one? Cal Kestis makes what ought to be the biggest and hardest decision of his life as he is pitted with a question of high stakes and morals. He descends to the Dark Side and becomes an Inquisitor. A choice he openly made for the sake of saving you, even if you didn't know you needed it until it was too late.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 | Previous: Chapter 4 | Next: Chapter 6 | Masterlist

5 of ?

There was a pause in their battle. Cal and the Fourth Brother stand in either side of the room. In this predicament, it was a luxury to even have a breather. The two men slowly circled at one another from across the room.

The same questions burned Cal’s mind. He didn’t know which one to ask first. For his benefit of the doubt, he assumed that the Fourth Brother doesn’t know about you—not mentioning you protected you from him in some way—and that he was referring to his female companion who is the Inquisitor you’re currently facing off at this very moment.

“How did you come to know this place?” Cal bellowed, demanding an answer. The Fourth Brother’s silent treatment and grin was beginning to annoy him.

“Why bother knowing such mundane things that can be answered by common sense?”

Knowing that it was hopeless to get a logical and direct answer from him, Cal scoffed in frustration.

“You’re not getting that holocron!” the young Jedi snarled, perseverance burned in him as he pointed his lightsaber at the enemy.

And you’re not getting to her!

This provoked the Fourth Brother, causing him to initiate the duel. Once again, their blades are intercrossed, trapped in another dance of a duel. At this point, Cal had become more aggressive but calculated—timing his Force attacks, mentally coaching himself on what the Fourth Brother’s next move is going to be, and conserving his energy for bigger attacks.

The desire to protect you—and everything you cared about—at all costs was one of Cal’s motivations. Given that the Fourth Brother and his companion is a whole new threat, Cal’s resolve held water.

The Fourth Brother sensed something else from Cal. The aggression combined with a precise coordination proved something of the Jedi. For once in his life, the Inquisitor might be facing someone who could be in the same caliber as his combat skills. He came out of his way to admit—in his mind—that he had underestimated this young boy.

“Oh, you have that fire in you. A glorious inferno!” The Fourth Brother sniggered tauntingly and grinned as he shifted all his weight on a deflecting Cal, their lightsabers’ colors mingling over the gloss of his soulless eyes. “Tell me… what’s your secret?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!?” Cal snarled back, staggered him away to restart his stance.

“If the Master could see you… Oh! He’d practically take you in our ranks.”

“Don’t count on it!”

Cal retaliated. Gathering up all his Force to send a wave towards the Fourth Brother, he sent the opponent flying and slammed his back hard against the cobblestone wall. However, this wasn’t enough to break the Inquisitor yet. There was still fight in these two men. The duel felt like an eternity.

“Oh, I most definitely will count on it,” the Fourth Brother hissed suggestively.

While on his knees, the Fourth Brother feigned and was mustering up all his energy as well to get back at Cal.

“And so shall the Grand Inquisitor!” he roared, darting through the air towards Cal.

The Fourth Brother threw punches and landed his elbows hard against Cal’s jaw, disorienting the boy, followed by a series of lightsaber attacks. Fortunately, Cal was saved by his armor—the belt straps had been severed and a gash tore the hard leather.

One kick to the rib and the Fourth Brother sends back the same wave towards the Jedi, hoisting up him in the air and throwing him further across their arena. Cal plowed through the ground, denting the silt. The Fourth Brother has gained the upper hand this time.

“If I were you, I’d keep an open mind, Jedi.” The Fourth Brother huffed, slicking back the lock of hair that fell out of place.

Heavy footsteps approached the scene. From the shadows, a second figure appeared. He was unlike anything Cal has ever seen before. He wagered it must be the Grand Inquisitor whom the Fourth Brother mentioned. Tall and gaunt, he walked in the same stride as the Chiss Inquisitor—except he had a thicker air of authority looming about him—yellow eyes glimmered menacingly over a face whose skin was white as bone, red streaks tattooed on his high forehead and the underside of his eyes, lines are literally etched all over his skin.

“Hello… Cal Kestis,” the Pau’an hissed as he spoke.

Cal had this tongue tied. He wasn’t quite sure how and what to respond to that.

“You’re a promising child, I’ll give you that. Nearly at par with one of my best warriors. It’s not every day Ezir meets someone who hasn’t died in the next minute.”

Cal groaned as he tried to move and stand up, with a single abrupt wave of the Grand Inqusitor’s hand, the young Jedi is pinned down by an invisible weight, unable to move. The Pau’an slowly approaches the young man as he spoke.

“I know that—for a Jedi—it’s hard to believe what Fourth Brother is saying. After all, he is an Inquisitor. Why should you trust him? But trust me, he was right on one thing: you ought to keep an open mind. And you listen to what I have to say.”

Cal broke free out of the Force that was holding him down, and struck back at the Grand Inquisitor to which he calmly deflected with his own lightsaber—it was a rather foolish move, brave yet foolish.

“Tsk, I think Ezir didn’t leave with enough fight in you for me,”

“Trust me, I think I have enough for the both of you,” Cal winced.

The Grand Inquisitor burst in a condescending laughter.

“Ah, there it is!”

“What are you going to do with the village?”

“Interesting priority you have there. I won’t go into detail, I take you to be a smart boy. I will deploy all my troops on that sad excuse of a civilization into a garrison. Should they fight back, well,” he scoffed, smirking and imagining the horrendous scene that could possibly take place. “I think you can figure that out for yourself. Just remember the last time you’ve seen an army suddenly storming in and shooting down everyone and everything in sight without question.”

A fire burned within Cal, violently thrashing and flailing within his very core, somewhat revitalizing him. The Grand Inquisitor’s provoking words became a catalyst for Cal’s newfound energy. The boy never ceased to surprise the two Inquisitors. When he was standing close enough, he unlinked his lightsabers and attacked the Grand Inquisitor in a spinning motion. Having known every single lightsaber combat form, the Grand Inquisitor was unfazed at this and easily blocked it all, leaving nary a window of opportunity for the young Jedi—however, Cal’s spirit showed and proved to be invaluable, and it greatly attracted the Grand Inquisitor.

A pity to kill off such a talent. The menacing Pau’an thinks to himself while blocking Cal’s attack with little to no effort.

Meanwhile, you believed to be faring well against the Eighth Sister. The duel continued on, your energy was slowly ebbing—you were exhausted, and so is she—but one of you has to step out as the victor. She was beginning to steal the upper hand. Her litheness never faltered and continued fighting you every last fiber of her being.

The Eighth Sister, still in a brutal frenzy, sending blows at you with such vengeful rage that she got her reward of dealing damage on you. She swung her lightsaber in a diagonal streak, she had hoped she had broken skin—much to her chagrin, she only managed to damage your jacket and armor, and nicked on your shoulder.

“I’ll do better in the next one, girlie!” she screeched.

She prepares herself for the next move, switching on her lightsaber into a spinning mode to lunge right at you—her target was your torso, she had hope to cut you down like ground meat. She thought there’d be absolutely no way for you to get away from that.

The problem with these Inquisitors is that they underestimate the Jedi too much. You thought to yourself, sniggering at the context of the remark.

You managed to push her away from you with the Force, and you sensed that she’s going for another one of her deadly combos the moment she regains her bearings.

Come on, think fast!

Your eyes wandered the entire room. You saw that she was standing between two pillars and a parapet on the verge of breaking hung above her head. Concentrating on the stone fixtures, you quickly extended your hands, your fingers curled into claws, slowly motioning your hands downward the pillars followed your direction—you visualize the parapet crumbling down to the Eighth Sister in your mind, the said beam finally reduced to a large chunk of debris as it all crumbles down onto her.

Clouds of dust gathered and wafted about in the ruin. Everything was quiet again.

“So much for a next one,” you quipped. Finally able to catch your breath.

Little did you know that the rumble of the collapse that you’ve caused thundered across not just in the second level but in the first level as well. It temporarily caught the attention of Cal and the two Inquisitors—each had their own concerns.

“Nahlei…” The Fourth Brother mumbled under his breath.

You tried to take a step forward but you suddenly fell to your knees. You clutched your chest. It seems that the Eighth Sister has done a number on you. The searing pain was still fresh, you can’t go on even if you wanted to. You figured you’d be knocked out cold before you could even actually reach the vault itself.

“Cal…” you muttered under your breath, reaching for your commlink. “Cal… can you hear me?”

Your voice, albeit faint and fading, has reached Cal’s ears. Everyone in the first level foyer has heard the sound of the collapsing stone thundering across the temple.

[Y/N]…! Cal screamed in his thoughts.

“We’ll meet again, Jedi. This isn’t over yet!” the Grand Inquisitor growled as he tossed out a flash bomb out of his pocket and escaped along with the Fourth Brother.

When the white light had dissolved from Cal’s view, he was alone in the foyer.

“They’re gone…” then he gasped, realizing you called to him via the commlink. “[y/n]!”

He rummaged his person to switch on the earpiece of his commlink.

“[y/n], are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah…” you winced and groaned. “No, not really.”

“Hold on, I’m coming to you. Where are you?”

“I’m in…” your deep breaths popped and cracked through the speaker of the comm. Even only speaking made you feel sore. “In the sanctum up ahead from the lobby, from the lobby… where we came in from. I didn’t get to the holocron, I’m sorry.”

Cal’s heart ached as the sound of your sobs overtaking your shaky voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m coming to get you. Just stay there and find someplace to hide. The Inquisitors are here,”

“No kidding, one did a number on me,”

“Stay put. I’m coming,”

“Hurry, Cal… please, it hurts…”

The young Jedi, fleet-footed as he is, scaled the vine-ridden wall and finds himself standing in the east wing of the second level. Long vines hung between the wide gaps, they bridged his path from one point to the other. When the view of the circular lobby was in sight, he sprinted across the dead halls and went to the left—where you ought to be. He entered the conclave and saw the pile of rocks that were once pillars and a parapet sitting in one side of the room. You were sitting on the ground, leaning against the fountain’s base while clutching your shoulder.

“[y/n]!” he exclaimed, his voice was mixed with relief—that you’re alive—and worried about your wounds.

“Cal…” you weakly mumbled.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,”

“You’re hurt too…” you gasped, reaching for the tear across his armor.

“It’s nothing. Come on,”

He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to hit any of the spots where it hurts you, and cradled you close to him like a baby. A weak arm hooked over his shoulder, you tried your best to hold on tight to him.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

“Shhh, it’s not your fault, hon. It’s not your fault,” he cooed, nuzzling his cheek against your hair.

He sprinted through the lobby, jumped over the gaps, the weight of you in his arms was nothing. Since you weren’t able to move well without hurting yourself, Cal managed to find an alternate exit. He leapt up in the air towards a platform where a gaping hole in the wall leads back to the outside world—the only problem is that the landing was probably a twenty-foot drop.

“Hold on tight to me, okay, [y/n]?”

You nodded weakly, you raised your good arm and held on tight on his chest, feebly clutching onto the fabric of his jumpsuit before makes the leap of faith. The Varans have heard him and they croaked at the sight of Cal. He was relieved that your mounts were still there, untouched and unscathed. Your Varan specifically anxious at the scent of cauterized blood and flesh—Varans were omnivorous creatures, but your connection with the animal did not stimulate its hunger, the creature perceived you as a companion and master. It sniffed your person and shook its head as it croaked in alarm.

“She can’t ride,” Cal spoke to the animal and mounted you on his Varan instead. “You’ll have to catch up with us.”

The reins of your Varan were long enough to tether it with Cal’s reins so it won’t stray without a rider. He secures you with both of his arms acting like a harness, letting you lean against him for the rest of the trip, and takes the reins. Fortunately enough, the Varans maintained a similar pace as Cal rode through the wasteland, on the way back to the village—given that it was the nearest place of shelter for the two of you.

Back at the temple, in the rubble where the Eighth Sister was buried alive in, it turns out that the female Inquisitor was never felled by you.

A fist tore through the debris and she pulled herself out of her supposed grave. She comes out growling, cold blue eyes blazing with a vengeance, her juvenile behavior might be the only thing that died in that collapse. She was rejoined by Ezir—namely, the Fourth Brother—as well as the Grand Inquisitor.

“I hope you can walk that off, Nahlei,” the Fourth Brother quipped.

“When I find that bitch, I’ll make sure she’ll never have to walk at all!” she roared.

The Grand Inquisitor smirked at the young woman’s remark.

Good, her hate didn’t die off with the rubble.

“Conserve that rage for another time, Eighth Sister, you will have the chance of utilizing that in the most opportune moment.”

“It would be my immense pleasure, Grand Inquisitor,”

“Come. We still have much to discuss about those Jedi,”

The pair followed the Grand Inquisitor back to their ship, eager to lay out the plans they have in mind for this planet and for you and Cal.

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Two Sides of the Coin (18)

Chapter 18: Altering It Further | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

A/N: Look it @berenilion another Vader chapter ;w;

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @stellar-trinity @justtinfoley @peterwandaparker @calgasm @queen-destenie @ayamenimthiriel @calsponchoemporium @fallenjedii @cal-jestis @sweeetteaa

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 | Previous: Part 17 | Next: Part 19 | Masterlist

18 of ?

A black, high pyramid tapering upwards marked the desolate, volcanic landfill that is Mustafar.

Jidné piloted the Scarab close to the transport shuttle’s tail, led by the Sixth Sister in her specialized TIE Fighter.

Jidné didn’t even realize that she’s held her breath even after getting through the atmosphere, the turbulence on her end was light, but the eeriness of the landscape captivated and frightened her at the same time—concentrating all her attention to the castle sitting by the edge of the black plateau. A single stream of glowing, red-hot lava resembling a waterfall accentuated the structure’s ominousness.

All three ships occupied the open hangar, albeit being a wide space. Jidné alights the Scarab and joins Cal’s side while he’s held by one Stormtrooper in the other.

Subtly using the Force, Jidné curled her fingers and willed the hool of Cal’s poncho to rise and cover his head. She was careful enough to make it go unnoticed by the Stormtrooper, but of course, it took Cal by surprise to feel his hood suddenly moving on its own. He turned his head to the only possible culprit—though she still didn’t look back to him, she couldn’t.

“The hot air here’s gonna make your head feel like it’s scorching,” Jidné mumbled through her cowl with the coil covering the bottom half of her face. She bobbed her head closer so her voice is still within the redhead’s earshot, making her more audible over the sound of the geysers spewing the said hot air.

Not once did she turn her head to face him as she spoke.

There was no response from him. She isn’t expecting one anyway. Understandably so, she immediately put herself in the mindset that Cal was furious with her. Though, he himself seems to contradict. His gentle surprise caused his eyes to remain on her, studying her feature and expression—the languidness on her face gave off the illusion that her laughter was a thing of the past, her dejected eyes slowly blinking and her head panning by the inch as she surveyed the castle and the landscape around it.

Cal, Jidné, and the rest of the Stormtroopers followed the Sixth Sister to the main door unprompted.

“Inform Lord Vader that we have the boy and that the bounty hunter is with us,” the Sixth Sister commanded the scout trooper manning the terminal.

“Copy!”

The scout trooper presses the button and spoke through the microphone head, relaying the exact words of the Sixth Sister. The door rumbled open seconds after the scout trooper concludes his announcement and they continued to follow.

The outside of the castle was one thing, but the inside was another story. Something about the interior made Cal and Jidné’s skins crawl—an alien feeling that they can’t describe, but somehow know of.

The Dark side of the Force.

The Sixth Sister has led them to the receiving chamber where Darth Vader meets those who wish to see him; on one side, there was a large rectangular slit on the wall facing the volcanic view outside, and in the other, was the door connecting the foyer and Darth Vader’s chamber.

All of them waited there. Even Jidné and Cal can feel the red Twi’lek tensing up.

The heavy creaking of the door caused everyone in the foyer to turn away from the window, smoke was spilling through once it went ajar, from a thin slit to a gradually gaping space until it revealed the tall figure, darker than the obsidian on which his fortress stands.

There mere sight of him shook the two young Jedi to their very cores. The monotonous breathing that filed the room has pierced its way to the hearts of everyone present and made their stomachs sink as if anchors had been tethered to them. The cool, poised façade of the Sixth Sister seemed to ebb, both Cal and Jidné sensed it, but the feeling’s mutual.

Darth Vader acknowledges the Inquisitor, Jidné—who he still believes to be a bounty hunter—and the prize in question, the Jedi boy Cal. He marched along the narrow bridge connecting the door and the foyer. As per custom, the Sixth Sister lowered herself to her knees as the dark lord approaches them. The closer he got, the more profuse the trembling became for the two young Jedi; only then did both of them truly have processed just how lumbering Vader was in size and the authority he imposed in his every step, in the slightest tilts of his helmet, and the blood-red glint of his mask’s eye sockets.

“My lord,” greets the Inquisitor.

“Rise,” he lowed rather disinterestedly. A slow sideways wave of his hand and the Twi’lek was quick to obey.

The Sixth Sister stepped aside to present the Jedi boy and the bounty hunter by his side. The Sith Lord stepped closer, Jidné’s elbows buckled closer to her sides while Cal’s already-clenched fists closed even tighter. As much as they wanted to avert their eyes to spare themselves from the terrifying sight of his mask, they couldn’t. In the end, they had to roll their eyes up in order to look at him in the eye, or at least through the pair of convex bumps that gleaned red when the light hits.

“Well done, Jidné,” Vader hummed.

Vader gestures at one of his personal bodyguards in that foyer—a Shadowtrooper: their armor was a glossy, jet black, perfectly blending in with the background whilst having a cloaking device that will mask their entire person. The Shadowtrooper approached one side of the room and what sounded like the latch of a trunk opening, he produced a storage canister—same as the one Jidné received for her upfront payment—he then activated a podium that erected from the floor at the touch of a button of his gauntlet for him to settle the container down. Performing a series of button patterns, he set off the lock to reveal that only a half filled the inside.

“That could only cover my fee, not the bounty price,” Jidné pointed out, maintaining character.

“Were you expecting a thicker stack? Or a second canister?”

“You don’t hear me complaining, m’lord,” Jidné blurted. “I was just stating the obvious.”

“Do not concern yourself over something that’s been considered done and covered. After all, you have accomplished what my two Inquisitors failed to do,”

She didn’t respond to the commendation, though Vader perceived her head hung low as she drew a heave of breath as a reaction. He then turns to the boy. The tension at Nur ran fresh in both of their minds—however, Vader was fueled by his recollection of the entire inconvenience that transpired in that stronghold.

Cal gets himself hauled forward to Vader, the Stormtrooper struggles to push the boy towards the large, lumbering figure that is the dark lord of the Sith.

For once, the dark lord has the opportunity to examine Cal without any lightsabers clashing angrily against one another. His blank, empty eyes stared right into the boy’s eyes—more alive than his could ever be—and Cal attempted to keep a brave face, despite repressing the shuddering that’s trying to break free from his body.

“Now, you will surrender the Holocron,”

In Cal’s mind, everything made better sense now. He turned to Jidné, and then to Vader. He managed a small smirk right in front of the dark lord.

“I don’t have it,” he muttered.

“Liar.”

Cal shakes his head whilst the smirk on his face grew.

“I really don’t,”

Vader’s head jerked to the girl, searching confirmation from her indifferent expression—he sensed that Jidné knew something as she continued to keep her head low and her eyes away.

“Then you’re hiding it somewhere,” insinuated the Sith lord. He looks at Jidné. “Tell me what he has done with the Holocron.”

Silence spoke on Jidné’s behalf. She rolled her eyes to Cal’s direction, avoiding Vader’s.

His short-lived patience is now spent. He hoisted his hand in level with Jidné’s neck, the air rumbled within the two Jedi’s radius, a heavy glom wrapped around them—Cal could feel its weight on him, but it was Jidné who had more of the receiving end.

She started to struggle in breathing, the gulps that she swallowed all lodged in the middle of her throat, the veins on her neck were pulsing as the muscles around it tightened. Jidné clutched her neck, hoping that rubbing it would make it go away—instead, she continued to gag, short breaths did not sate her lungs. Her eyes finally trailed up and found the root cause—Vader’s gloved hand is positioned into an open grapple directed in front of her. It didn’t take long for her to submit on her knees—in a moment, on one knee, and then the second in the next—her hand was still on her neck, clawing off a non-existent grasp asphyxiating her.

Darth Vader doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon… not until either of them talks.

“LET HER GO, SHE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!!!” Cal raised his voice against Vader, though that didn’t convince him and continued to strangle the girl.

Again, Cal took his voice to its peak, so much so that the words strained his chords, “THE HOLOCRON IS DESTROYED!!! I DESTROYED IT—NOW LET HER GO!!!”

The suffocating ripple of the Force coiled around her neck finally vanished into thin air. Jidné inhaled the deepest that her lungs could take—the biggest one she’s ever done in her entire life! She exhaled in coughs and fully collapses to the ground as she felt like her spine had turned into liquid. She breathed a few more time to reset her pattern before pulling herself back, little by little.

“Jidné…? Are you okay?”

It was a subtle nod that she did to reply to Cal. Her panicked heart still raced until she mentally willed it that she’s still alive and breathing.

“You…” Vader trailed off. “Destroyed it?”

“I’ve seen and remembered enough names when I opened that Holocron. If you kill me now, you will never get a single one of them!” Cal snarled.

Perhaps in a way to rub it in his face, Vader leaned closer to Cal until a mere inch of space divides the two of them.

Vader purred, proud of himself that he had outwitted the boy, “But I can get it out of you.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Jidné inquired, still trying to keep in character.

“That is not of your concern. You should concern yourself more with the second half of the bargain,”

Darth Vader promised the second payment to Jidné if she stays until Cal is brought to the torture chamber. The simple mention of that word made Cal’s heart beat twice at a time. He has only seen the machine when inactive in real life, he’s seen it at work but only in his Force vision of Trilla’s memory—he could think of a hundred ways how it would feel if it was he himself strapped to the machine.

The Shadowtrooper adjusting the canister an inch forward was supposedly a prompt for Jidné to take the money, but she didn’t want to take it. Blood money, she thought. Seconds later, Vader notices her hesitation.

“Is there something else, child?” Vader inquired.

“N-No… my lord,”

“Then take it,”

She clenched her fist to eradicate the trembling. His invitation for the girl to take the money was a trick challenge he’s imposed—should the Sith lord notice the fumble in her hands, his suspicions would immediately be proven true.

Eventually, Jidné’s fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled it away from the podium. She still could not will herself to look at Cal in the eye, presuming that she had truly betrayed him—if only she could freeze time, she would’ve shouted it until her voice reaches the very foundation of the building that she has fallen for him and that she doesn’t want to do this anymore.

Jidné slowly turns around, her back against everyone else, as she was dismissed by Vader himself so she can return to the hangar to hide away her bounty.

“I shall expect you in the torture chamber soon, Sheedra,”

That stopped Jidné in her tracks. Her grip around the handle tightened until her palms swelled. Ever so slightly, she bobbed her head to the side, one inch shy of showing her face over her shoulder.

“Understood.” She huskily replied, a dreary tone rasped as she spoke.

Eager to leave, she continued to walk away and succeeded in hiding the tears streaming down her cheeks as she takes every step.

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Bad Ideas Make Good Memories (3)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by @queen-destenie | Prompt:

i live for you qUEEN! i LOVE your writing. if you have the time, could you do a fic where reader is the most reckless badass and Cal is like ‘wait don’t do THAT’ and she is just ‘im living life BABYY’. she does the most insane things that always somehow work and Cal is literally like what the F*CK’. reader is basically a GOD. please and thank you

Additional tags: Rebel fleet, rebel base

Also in AO3

Chapters: Part 1 | Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

The jump was lucky—partially.

It’s not every day pilots see a Jedi girl climbing up the front face of a TIE Assault Shuttle.

“That kid’s crazy!” one of the pilots exclaimed.

“Should we shake her off?!” the co-pilot suggested.

It was too late for them to try out that plan, because you’ve already kicked the entry hatch open and jumped in.

“Hello there!” you beamed.

From behind, you sensed a Scout Trooper and his commander lunge at you with their batons but you easily deflected both of their weapons.

“Oh, she’s a bold one!” the scout trooper blurted.

You repaid that comment with a smug smile and quickly got rid of the troopers. The pilots couldn’t take their eyes off of the Jedi, alternating their attention between the controls and you. They knew they were next when the two scouts troopers fell dead on the floor of the ship. One of them resumed control over the ship, it was the one who proposed to swerve the ship when you were still outside—and he put his plan to work.

Both pilots hung tight on their seats while you pawed the air in search for something to hold on to. You hugged the wall for support as they continued swerving the ship.

From the rebels’ point of view, they saw the large TIE hovering and swerving in place. They could only imagine what’s happening inside that ship.

“Look at TIE, it looks like it’s out of control!” Aqua Five pointed out.

“But we didn’t hit it!” Maroon Eight replied.

“No, that’s [y/n]!” Cal cut in, shepherding your Interceptor into the skirmish and letting R-12 take on the guns while you’re away. “Try not to get roasted, R-12!”

“Beeee-woop!”

“Yeah, she’s insane,” Cal repeated, agreeing with your own droid’s comment. “Good thing she’s not hearing that!”

“[y/n] is… driving that TIE?!” the operator exclaimed, absolutely flabbergasted at the stunt you pulled. “The droid’s controlling her ship! That kid’s crazy!”

While the AT-ATs are still out of range, the rebels still have a fighting chance in protecting the base. Cal continued taking on the reins of command.

“Guns, see if two of you can take down the AT-ATs!” the ground command radioed and Cal overheard.

“No, their armor is impregnable! Their weak spots are too narrow for our guns!” Cal cuts in.

“Well, what do you suggest, Interceptor One?”

“Tow cables!” Cal cried in epiphany. “Maroon Three, follow my lead!”

“Copy that, Interceptor One!”

The ship tailed Cal. They sank on the fine line between the tree canopies and the legs of the iron giants. The young Jedi connected his communication to his companion.

“Maroon Three, you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Interceptor!”

Cal instructed the fighter to fly low enough in the same level as the AT-ATs’ knees before releasing their tow cables.

“Three passes should be enough! Don’t worry about their fire, the heads can’t look down that low!”

Meanwhile, back in the TIE shuttle, the ship continued to swerve and the nausea frustrated you. When the pilot opened fire, you evaded that single shot that cost the pilots their lives—you’re standing behind the auxiliary power grid and that blast met a different mark.

The auxiliary power was now cooked and is sputtering sparks all over. You finished off the pilots as soon as the swerving ceased when the one who opened fire realized his grave mistake. You took over the pilot’s seat and made quick work of converting its frequency to open range.

“That TIE shuttle’s trying to transmit something,” Cere spotted the soundwave register in the screen from the base.

“This is [y/n] of Interceptor Two, I have hacked the TIE shuttle’s communications. The auxiliary power has been damaged, integrity is at 60% but is going down fast!”

“Get out of there, [y/n], or you’ll go down with it!”

You heeded Cere’s warning, but you weren’t able to reply—your attention was immediately stolen by the thundering thud of the metal giant stumbling to the forest floor, followed by the loud twang of a snapped tow cable around the second AT-AT’s legs. You steered the TIE shuttle to face the last AT-AT standing, the transmitter beeped to your end.

It was Cal, “[y/n], what are you doing this time?”

“Relax, I got it covered!”

“I hope it does because from the looks of it—no, it doesn’t!”

“Just tell R-12 that I’ll be hitching a ride in a bit!”

You found the lever for the auto-pilot and cranked the gear to the highest speed, you stepped back, aligning to the entry hatch above your head as the TIE shuttle rams towards the AT-AT. The TIE was now mere inches away from the walker—that was your cue to escape through the same way you came in—and you’re already sprinting away from the TIE and onto the walker—which was more stable ground.

“There she is, R-12! On the walker’s back, hurry!”

“Beeee!”

The droid steered the Interceptor to your exact location while retracting the glass dome cover of the cockpit, he was close but the surface you’re standing on was beginning to incline and you had to stand on fours to keep yourself stable.

“Come on, R-12!” you encouraged through the grit of your teeth.

“BEEEEE!! TRILL, WOOP!”

You propped yourself in a runner’s starting stance and sprang off before the TIE shuttle imploded and proceeded to take down the walker with it. Had you waited a second later, you wouldn’t have closed the distance of that leap of faith. You thudded on the hull of your Interceptor and crawled quickly to the cockpit.

“I KNEW I COULD COUNT ON YOU, BUDDY!!” you whooped and regained full control of the starfighter.

The droid scolded you and at the same time cheered you on as you flew to the dogfight. The gunships were able to cover the starfighters from a safe distance away from the rest of the TIE Fighters.

“YOU ARE INSANE!!” Cal scolded you, bellowing through your radio. “That was probably stupidest thing you’ve done this month!”

“It’s not stupid if it works!!” you screeched back, the adrenaline levels are through the roof in your system as you steered your way back to the skirmish.

Cal can’t stay mad at you, after all, he actually agreed with you on that.

The two of you opened fire at the enemy lines until none of them have gotten close or have dealt critical damage against the base.

“People on the ground, how are you back there?” you call.

“We’re still here, don’t worry! A TIE Fighter got a shot on us but nothing critical!” Cere responded. “We’re taking care of the ground quite well from the Stormtroopers here!”

“Perfect, we’ll keep it up and I’ll be just in time for a scolding once this is all over!”

Your excitement has made you reckless and your joker side is showing. Oddly enough, your out-of-place-and-time enthusiasm and optimism were boosting the squad’s morale, while still keeping a serious tone when strategizing real-time in the middle of the crossfire.

“I’m being tailed!” one of the gunship pilots screeched through his transmitter.

At the top spot of your windshield, you saw a trio of TIE Fighters tailing the gunship with a cartoonish graffiti of a thermal detonator.

“I see you, Bomber! I’m coming to you!”

“Hurry! They’re just missing me by a hair strand!”

“R-12, are my proton torpedoes charged?”

“Weee-woop!”

“Good,” you flicked open a glass cover on the dashboard, revealing a second analog controller. “This is where the fun begins!”

You accelerated the ship until you got close enough to the cluster of TIEs ganging up on the rebel gunship.

“Bomber see if you can maneuver to a curve so you’re out of the line of fire, I’m sending some torpedoes on those vermin’s way!”

“Roger!”

The gunship did as you were told and when the friendly got far enough, your targeting monitor reflected the three TIEs on your screen and when they aligned in the grid, you threw all the pressure of your thumb on the second analog controller—two torpedoes jetted through the sky while you used the guns to take down the third.

“Thanks, Interceptor Two!”

“Don’t sweat it! We need every single one to win this thing!”

Every fighter in the sky and everyone in the ground heard you. Suddenly, your confidence and bravery infected everyone. The tables have turned for the Imps. The starfighters were the ones ganging up on the lone or pairs of TIE Fighters and are thinning the herd in a dramatic scale.

“We’re slowly gaining the upper hand!” the second-in-command to Captain Miccah reported as he pointed at the blips on the holograph; there were more white and blue blips than red.

“That’s good,” Cere rubbed her hands together, shaking off the tension. “They just need to keep pushing.”

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

A Path I Can’t Follow (4)

Chapter 4: New Adversaries | Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 - 2 | Previous: Chapter 3 | Next: Chapter 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

As Cal stalked the hallway, trying to find his way back so he can rejoin you, he comes across another empty foyer—but in that foyer, a bushel of vines blanketed the wall.

“Vines,” Cal muttered under his breath. “I hope they don’t break off.”

BD-1 trilled in Cal’s ear, almost like a whisper.

“Yeah, there’s this feeling that’s been bugging me. It’s been bugging [y/n] as well. Don’t worry, we don’t need to be scared,” the boy assured his lovable droid.

However, he goes against his own words as he sensed the presence of another. The optimistic mood instantaneously melted away as soon as Cal started to discreetly unclip his lightsaber. He turned around and out of the shadows come appears a new Inquisitor.

The deep blue skin and red scleras with the absence of a pupil were dead giveaways—this new Inquisitor is a Chiss. A straight line of healed flesh passes through his left brow and eye, and his hair was black as his coat whose hem billows at the musty, humid air.

There was a sophisticated grace in him as he strode, intimidating and authoritative would be the best-suited words to describe him. Despite the sunken cheeks and prominent cheekbones—a sign of aging, battles and experience etched on his face—there was a mature, threatening air about him as he approached.

He stepped into the light of the foyer, revealing himself more. Donning black robes with red accents, a black cowl whose excess length hung around his shoulders like a cape, he’s dressed like an aristocrat. He greets Cal with a malicious grin, baring pearly-white teeth.

“Hello, Jedi,”

The Inquisitor’s baritone voice was husky yet smooth, calm like him, and yet there was a tinge of mischievousness in his words. Cal’s thumb secretly goes for the switch of his saber.

“You seem new,” Cal’s sarcasm took the lead of their exchange.

“I have a name. Though, they prefer to call me the Fourth Brother—and I prefer the same myself.” He introduced himself indifferently.

The Fourth Brother angled his head ever so slightly, his eyes shifted and watched the redheaded Jedi’s thumb crawl towards the switch. He condescendingly chuckled.

“Do you really want to do this right now?”

Cal did not respond, taken aback by the new Inquisitor’s question.

“Very well then,”

The Inquisitor stretched out his right hand, summoned his lightsaber and ignited it in a split second. His hilt is identical with the Second and Ninth Sisters’ where a ring encircled the pommel. The weapon hummed as a beam of crimson-red plasma. Cal’s lightsaber ignited in unison with his.

“Let’s dance, Jedi!” he spoke in a hiss, the smile grew to a sinister, ear-to-ear grin.

He lunges at the Cal, the distance between them was wide, and he dashed through the air like it was nothing. Cal quickly deflected his first strike. They exchanged strikes, a graceful yet deadly dance. The Fourth Brother was lithe, the way he moved made him look like he’s light as a feather, but his strength and the intensity of his attacks were staggering.

The Fourth Brother’s fighting pattern was almost like a dance more than a series of fighting stances. His motion was fluid, and yet his strikes were astonishingly strong, abrupt, and firm. Cal comes close to fumbling whenever he finds himself in the receiving end of the Fourth Brother’s finishers.

Cal finds himself evading more than attacking, due to the Fourth Brother’s speed and agility. Dodging away just to heal was starting to feel impossible to do, the enemy could always catch up and close the distance between them. When he found the chance, the Inquisitor sprang from the ground and went for an overhead attack—another finisher. Fortunately, Cal was quick enough to finish hitting himself with a stim and then parried it at the right time—at the last second—and the Fourth Brother was rather impressed.

“Oh, you’re stronger than I expected,”

“Enough to take you down!” Cal spat back with his unwavering snark and renewed energy thanks to the stim earlier.

“Can you take me down before we could get to the holocron first… and the village?”

The Fourth Brother’s words shocked Cal, a sudden chill coursed down his spine, his lips trembled as his green eyes flitted in confusion. The Inquisitor sensed it—the instantaneous faltering of the mind, his perfect opportunity. He smirked in celebration. Cal feigned, made a precision evade to the side and kicked away the opponent, this is the first time of the entire duel where the Fourth Brother truly staggered—it did hurt his rib, but not his pride, at least not yet.

“Wait… we?! How did you know about the village?!”

The Fourth Brother’s malicious grin returned to his face as he straightened his posture. He was satisfied with what he’s witnessing right now—relishing Cal’s paranoia in the form of bombarding questions.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, boy. I’m not that feeble… like you.”

The duel continued. The long-lived silence of the temple ruins finally broken by the humming and crackling of lightsabers colliding with one another. The Fourth Brother was flashy—but he does so efficiently—with the objective of fazing the opponent, luring and baiting them until he’s finally found a suitable spot to deliver the killing blow.

However, Cal persisted… and survived. Fighting on, analyzing the Fourth Brother’s movements in real-time as they dueled. His movements’ speed have picked up and caught on with the opponent’s. Their footwork was so rapid they could practically tangle one another with just their legs.

Cal made use of his other abilities, making a medley of lightsaber attacks and Force abilities within the small window of time that the Fourth Brother had granted him. Admittedly, the Inquisitor was surprised when he was inflicted with the Force Slow—he felt sluggish as he is in reality, simply raising his arm felt like hauling a fully-occupied transport ship with just a tow cable, for a few seconds he is devoid of his beloved gift of nimbleness. He ultimately hated the sensation. Cal finally grabs his chance of retaliation. Separating the conjoined hilts, he strikes the Fourth Brother on the top and the bottom in opposite yet parallel strokes. The Inquisitor groaned in pain as he finally broke free from the Force Slow and his body fell limp on the floor.

Have I underestimated this boy? The Inquisitor thinks to himself as he watches Cal come at him.

He denied Cal the prize of a finishing blow. The Fourth Brother lunged away, evading the lightsaber blade coming down at him—ready to strike him at the head—and reveled the fleeting seconds of recovering from the damage he’s taken. He brought himself to his feet, Cal afforded him the dignity of regaining himself just so he can go back to being the worthy foe he ought himself to be; slowly standing up crouching, he winced whenever he tried to straighten his back—Cal has probably cut him deep.

“Well now,” he gasped, taking a deep breath, repressing an incoming wince. “You’re surely exceeding my expectations quite well.”

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises,” Cal scoffed back.

“Hmph,” he draws his lightsaber. He purred, “Though I wonder… how is she faring?”

She? Does he mean… [y/n]? Cal shuddered at the thought. More questions birthed out of the first one, the image of you suddenly flashed before his eyes.

Has he seen her? How? He can’t mean her!

The pace of Cal’s heartbeat increased tenfold. It’s impossible for the Fourth Brother to know about you when he has only encountered Cal.

“Well, I believe, we have enough of a breather now,”

It didn’t take long for the Fourth Brother to get his momentum back.

Meanwhile, you continue on the rest of the way, heading straight to where you’re supposed to be. You come across what ought to be another indoor garden and plaza. A ray of sunshine shone through an orifice in the ceiling, pooling in the deteriorated statue. The fountain’s basin had become a seedbed so the plants have occupied the space, their vines crawling and spilling out of the fountain.

For some reason, you found more comfort in the shadows than in the light. Though the sight of the ruined fountain had its certain charm, even in this state, you smiled at the comforting fact that sunlight still found its way through this derelict place.

You cautiously approached the center, with your main purpose being to reach the other side of the room on the way to the holocron’s hiding place. Each step you took, something didn’t feel right—and it became more and more obvious by the minute.

Out of the blue, a disembodied scream rings around the foyer. Thanks to your senses—whose keenness have heightened through the roof ever since you got separated from Cal—you snatched your lightsaber and ignited it, deflecting another lightsaber beam.

“You know, a sneak attack is useless if you’re just gonna scream!” you spat.

Your attacker is a female Mirialian. You’ve just met the Eighth Sister.

She made quite the entrance just to introduce herself to you: she had leapt from her perch—a stone parapet just inches below the ceiling, with enough darkness to hide in until she could buy the opportunity to strike you down, she had only miscalculated how responsive your reflexes were. She surely wasn’t expecting that, albeit she knew you were Jedi.

You elbowed her hard on the chest, followed by a kick to the shin. She fumbled as she stepped back away from you.

“Ooooh, I hope you didn’t break a collarbone in me because that was HARD!” she said cheerily, snickering as she stretched her good leg.

She was dressed very differently compared to Trilla or the Ninth Sister. Aside from their standard black garments, hers is unconventional and less conservative: a black cropped top with a hood, two red bands secured her black wrist gauntlets and wore another two pairs of the armbands around her skinny biceps, her pauldrons bore the insignia of the Empire painted in white, and a maroon scarf that she has tied around her waist tucked underneath her actual belt.

Her helmet didn’t cover her face, only her head—it’s merely a conical headdress with two appendages on both sides—exposing her three tattoos: a vertical stripe along the center of her forehead and a horizontal pair on her cheeks. Upon closer look, her blue, winged eyes glimmered with a juvenile frenzy, complemented with a grin playing in size from a narrow slit to a wide, toothy one.

She behaved like a teenager, even though she appeared to be the same age as you.

“That was a good hit though, gotta give it to ya!”

“You’re an Inquisitor,” you uttered in discovery.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “What else?”

“Ho-How… did you?”

“How’d we get here?” she continued for you. Casually waving her lightsaber around, tilting her head as if in a pensive expression. “Well, it’s simple. We got troopers stationed around the place.”

She turned to you, her childish façade melted, and a malicious grin plastered on her face.

“Enough talk. Let’s dance. I’d like to see you move with that light stick.”

You prepped yourself into an attack stance, “I hope you don’t carry that just for show!”

The Eighth Sister surely proved you that she doesn’t carry her lightsaber just for show..

Your dexterity was at par with one another, but only one can dominate this battlefield. It appears that she was her own brand of flashy—compared to the Fourth Brother—she was acrobatic and lithe. The speed in the delivery of her combos compensated for her lack of power and strength, her attacks against you had very little windows for you to cut in, though usually at the final part of it you can deflect them so you could have a turn in attacking.

You studied her every move, made yourself scarce from her strikes, saving up energy at the same time. Your attacks were precious and carefully-timed—striking her when you could truly afford it.

“Come on! You’re totally killing the fun!” she coaxed, the playful tone never left her voice.

You lunged and came at her, dominating her as you stepped forward with every blow. You brutally overwhelmed the fight with enough strength to stagger her. There was the moment where her footwork was noticeably failing, but kept her lightsaber arm raised, flimsily deflecting your attacks. She bared her teeth at you as she exerted in her blocking—you couldn’t tell whether it was a grin or a soundless hiss.

It frustrated her enough that you were winning in this bit. She was propped on her elbow on the ground, the split second’s worth of window was enough for her to roll away and avoid your overhead strike. Your lightsaber seared the stone ground, your enemy had recovered her bearings. Her grin had vanished, her cyan eyes emitted a cold stare as she pointed her lightsaber at you in a stance.

You grinned and shrugged at her, taunting her, at the same time you were begging her to come at you.

And she did.

A cluster of red sparks flew in the flurry of her lightsaber. You sensed that her attacks have become heavier—that was both a good thing and a bad. For one, it means she had tired herself out with her acrobatics; for another, her strikes had gained some brute force to it. Despite all that, you never faltered. You kept your cool while gradually exploiting your enemy’s skills.

Finally, your evading has paid off. She is wide open whenever she does the finishing strike of her combo: an overhead jump strike after two attacking twirls. If you could evade her landing at just the right time—you thought to yourself—you could either hit her back with a kick or your saber. Her lunging attack was the easiest to exploit, you can either parry her or Force-pull her out of balance to interrupt the move.

In every passing minute, the Eighth Sister was sluggish, stealing moments of rest in a great distance from you as she takes a breather for herself.

“Ugh, you’re too good for my taste, girl!” she hissed, greatly vexed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment then!”

She flexed and cracked her neck.

“I hope this treasure hunt was worth the wait!”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the discovery. So, they have gotten here ahead of you as well! Your instincts were right, you wished that you believed it in more sooner. But now, you have the most concrete of evidence, your fear and anxiety have taken physical form: it’s the Eighth Sister and whatever operation she and her companions have in mind the moment they’ve set foot into this temple before you and Cal did.

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

A Path I Can’t Follow (9)

Chapter 9: Descent | Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Chapter 8 | Next: Chapter 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

Cere had waited for you outside the Mantis. Using her hand as a visor over her eyes, she patiently surveyed the plains for any sign of your coming. Behind you as the Varan galloped through the wilderness, a trail of dust gathered and then wafted up in the air—like a beacon in Cere’s perspective.

At first, she couldn’t make out much of what she’s seeing because she could only see a black speck in front of a plume of dust. You continuously snapped the reins to regain more speed—if there is any more the Varan could handle—until you became more visible to Cere’s view.

Cere couldn’t and didn’t want to believe what she’s seeing—there was only one of you. She told herself that Cal was probably sitting behind you, but every passing minute as you got closer, she was beginning to believe she was wrong.

You heeled the Varan and it reared in front of Cere.

“[y/n], what happened? Where’s Cal?”

You didn’t reply. You dismounted the creature, held its muzzle close to you for one final pet, and you stuck your forehead on the flat of its snout.

“Go find your way home,” you whispered before releasing the reins.

The animal, wild and free again, darted through the plains, becoming a dark moving speck in the wasteland until it disappeared. Cere repeated her question to you. BD-1 chirped a nonchalant “Hi” to the woman.

“Let’s go inside,” you said sullenly.

Upon your entrance into the Mantis, you were greeted with the same question asked by Greez, Merrin was as equally curious as the other two. You unbuckled the strap of your bag containing the holocron and dumped it on the couch.

“[y/n], what happened?” Greez asked again.

You take a deep breath, gathering the right words and finding the courage to even utter them as clearly as possible. Pacing around in small, tight circles as you look up at the ship’s ceiling while thinking carefully of how you’re going to put it to them.

“An Inquisitor has taken Cal. They’ve already fled the planet, I never caught up to him. I never saw him either,”

“But you two went together to the temple, weren’t you?” Cere pressed.

“We were ambushed by Stormtroopers when we got inside the temple. He told me to get inside the chamber and get the holocron, he held them off. When I got to the holocron, I think the Force gave me a vision of sorts, I didn’t realize that a long time had passed while I was under… then I got out of the chamber and I never saw him,”

“Was he kidnapped? Taken hostage?” Cere pressed.

You shook your head in reply.

“They… The Stormtroopers…” you trailed off at the thought of the massacre at the town, you couldn’t longer repress the tears welling up behind your eyes until they rolled down your cheeks, the sinking feeling in your heart made you choke on your words as you struggled to continue speaking. You lousily wiped away the tears in your eyes with your sleeve. Impulsively, Merrin approached and held you—putting her arm around your shoulder, whispering “It’s okay” while you regain your bearings.

“They slaughtered all of the people in the settlement. Every single person living there. The leader, he… he told me Cal gave the order!”

“And BD told all of that to you?” Cere confirmed.

“He was the only one with Cal that time, he must’ve let go or lost his grip in the middle of that massacre. Why wouldn’t I believe BD?”

“Where is he now?”

BD-1 repeated the same string of chirps and trills to everyone, but only you were able to translate it.

“The Inquisitors have another fortress,” you said softly. “In Koboth, that’s in the Mustafar System.”

“Captain, get ready for takeoff,” Cere firmly said.

“Copy that,”

Cere and Greez immediately strode to the cockpit, not sparing a moment and immediately setting themselves in work mode. You approached the holotable and typed the coordinates until a preview of the planet in its hologram form materialized. Koboth is thirteen parsecs away from Magyon.

The Mantis slowly hoisted itself off the ground while Greez made quick work of pressing buttons and flicking switches.

You sat on the couch—back slumping against the warm leather and arm crossed over your chest—BD-1 hopped off your shoulder and sat on the center table. Merrin sat down next to you, attempting to comfort you.

“Are you worried, [y/n]?”

“I am but… about many things,”

She rests her hand on yours, giving it a tight but gentle squeeze.

“Mostly worried about Cal?”

“Of course. I don’t know what I’ll see when I find him, and I’m not sure if I’m ready,”

Merrin leaned her head on your shoulder as she hugged you.

“I just hope he’s okay,” you sighed, clutching back Merrin’s hand and nuzzling your cheek on her silver hair.

The Inquisitor’s convoy had already gone to Koboth almost immediately after the slaughter was finished and when Cal thought he had finished off Razh. The planet—similar to its neighboring Mustafar—was also a volcanic planet, the only difference between the two alike planets are their skies: Koboth’s skies could be clear, grey, or dark. Large, black mountain ranges dictated the twists and turns of the lava rivers, deltas of magma branched out across the soil, possibly extending to the farthest reaches of the planet, geysers were also scattered across the arid, rocky plains. It was an unforgivable planet, it was a perfect itinerary for someone as formidable as the whole band of Inquisitors.

Another fortress rests atop a plateau, its onyx spire erecting through the cliff top where it overlooks a cluster of geysers on the obsidian plains; at the foot of the plateau, where a river of lava flows through, is an established Imperial facility and base hybrid.

The convoy had landed on the hangar of the fortress; Cal walked along with the Grand Inquisitor—tailed by a couple of Stormtroopers—together they appeared almost like master and apprentice. In the corner of his eye, the Grand Inquisitor glanced at Cal, sensing an inhibition that the young boy.

“Are you troubled?”

“Frankly, yes,”

This whole time, starting from the ambush at the temple until he boarded the Grand Inquisitor’s shuttle, all he could think about was you—what you would say, what you would think—once you see him again. Cal believed that while he may have guaranteed your safety for now, that doesn’t mean you will be immune from every Stormtrooper you bump into in any world you’re in.

He wanted you with him. Anywhere, anything goes—as long as you’re not separated from him.

“Of her? But you have already guaranteed her safety, have you not?”

“I’d much rather have her here with me. You don’t know what she is capable of,”

The Pau’an Inquisitor smirked and scoffed through his nostrils.

“Believe me, boy, I know enough,”

Once they’ve entered the fortress itself, they were greeted by Stormtroopers, straightening their backs and readjusting their grips on their blasters. They eased up when the Grand Inquisitor and Cal have walked past them, and then it was back to slouching. To Cal, it has always felt the same whenever he treads through the hallway of an Imperial base—cold, stale, inorganic—but now, all of it was beginning to change; he had begun to realize this is going to be his new life now.

Along the way, the Grand Inquisitor stopped in his tracks and turned his attention to the pair of Stormtroopers.

“Take Master Kestis to the quarters arranged for him,”

Cal jerked his head to the Pau’an who glanced back at him unsurprised. The young redhead did not say anything. His companion was polite enough to dismiss himself with his own reason before leaving him at the care of the Stormtroopers.

“This way, sir,” the Stormtrooper points to the general direction with his blaster.

The Stormtroopers took the lead with Cal walking behind them, he wondered if these troopers were any of the clones he had met or interacted with before the Purge. He shrugged away the thought and was escorted to a chamber.

“This is it, sir,”

“Thanks,” Cal barely made his mouth move to utter the words. Regardless, the Stormtroopers—having their task done—gave a curt nod at the boy and walked away, assuming patrol work in the base.

Cal stepped in and surveyed his new quarters. One entire wall was a glass window that gave a view of the lava rivers and the geyser patch outside the fortress. There was a single cabinet that was filed with medical supplies and consumables like food rations, stims, even smoke and flash bombs.

“Stims,” Cal muttered to himself. “Well, I guess we can restock, right, BD-1?”

He glanced over his shoulder, his stomach sank to his feet instantaneously when his little droid is nowhere to be found on his back. Suddenly, he was hysterical. He had lost BD-1 and couldn’t remember the last time he was sure that the droid was there clinging on his back.

“BD-1…? Little bud?!” he searched his room, nothing.

He wanted to head out and search his droid, but he was unsure how the Stormtroopers would react—he didn’t exactly fit in yet. He hesitated in stepping out of his room, instead, he opened the door and peeked out to see if BD was there waiting for him outside—probably waiting to open up the door for him.

Nothing. Just an empty hallway.

He retreated to his room, helpless and truly alone. He sat down on his bed.

“Oh no…”

Cal hung his head low, resting his forehead on the palm of his hand while his fingers combed his copper hair. He took deep breaths, hoping that BD-1 would not have been completely lost—he had hoped that you’ve picked him up along the way.

In the solace of his chamber, he sulked for a time, until he decided it’s pointless and attempted to meditate instead. However, he couldn’t seem to focus, something felt like hindering whenever he tried—it was unexplainable; if he strains himself, he loses control and is unable to properly meditate.

The sputtering of the geysers muffled through his glass wall interrupted his focus. He grunted in frustration as he jerked his eyes open. He strode towards the glass, watching the pillars of gas and vapor shoot up from their craters and then into the air, the viscous lava sloshed rather than flowed in streams.

He thought about the feelings he had mere seconds ago. His meditation felt hollow, the silence had terrified him, and he began to ponder what went wrong all of a sudden and why was he feeling like this. By the glass window, Cal ruminated on his choices, the outcomes it had brought, and the sacrifices that were made whether the price was steep or low; but above all of this, you were the first of his many thoughts—your voice, your cheerful laughter that escaped through your sweet smile, and the way you looked at him.

At the corner of his eye, a ship was spotted in the distance and he instantly recognizes it just by the way it did its landing cycle.

The Mantis.

You’ve taken over co-pilot where Cal originally sits, assisting Greez in piloting the ship as you would. As the captain prepared the landing cycle, you stared through the windshield, glaring at the raven-black tower that nestled between the cliff tops. A feeling crept onto you—it was cold and heavy, but there was a familiarity to it.

“Cal’s there, I know it,” you uttered particularly to yourself, you didn’t care whether they heard it or not.

The Mantis finally touches the rocky terrain of Koboth for the first time. You jumped out of your seat, Cere called your name but you ignored it—you were too eager to find him—when a second mention of your name wasn’t enough, she caught up to you and grabbed you by the arm.

“[y/n], please wait!”

“Cere, please! There’s not much time!” you burst.

“I know you want him back—we all do, like you—but please, don’t be reckless,” Cere shook your arm, her grip evidently tightening as she spoke every word.

You finally afforded a moment to calm yourself and breathe. You heeded her words.

“I won’t be reckless. I will find him and I’ll bring him back home,” you firmly swore, looking deep into Cere’s eyes.

She nodded but said nothing. Then suddenly—perhaps because of the emotions swirling inside her—she throws herself to you, taking you in her arms’ embrace. She brought her lips close to your ear.

“Do not let your fear and inhibitions trample on what you believe in,”

Cere may not have seen it, but your eyes lit up—it was the same, exact words that the voice of your master had said to you in the holocron’s chamber—the slight movement of your head proved her that you understood well and have taken the words to heart.

“I won’t,” you replied, embracing her back. “I won’t.”

The woman pulled away from the embrace, but kept her hands on your shoulders, giving them a slight shake.

“Okay,” she breathed. She raised her hand to your cheek, cupping and then caressing it. “Go on now. May the Force be with you.”

You nodded and turned around to the door. When you stepped out of the ship and finally got a feel of the planet’s environment, you had wished you could have brought the Varan along with you—it would have still served its purpose when crossing this kind of terrain. No use in whining about it, you thought, and hiked the entire mile from the Mantis’s landing spot to the fortress.

Little did you knew that Cal had spotted you. Squinting through the glass, he found you sprinting through the expanse of the obsidian flats, the hem of your poncho flapping through the wind as you ran, and he watched you close in on the fortress.

The Force still guided him, even if his connection was reducing into fragments like it was once before he met Cere, it connected him to you, gave him hints on where you might be; with his unseen guide, he darted through the confusing and winding annexes and hallways of the fortress, blatantly ignoring the Stormtroopers that gave him weird stares even with their emotionless helmets.

Cal, please, be with me. You prayed while prowling the hallways, engaging in fights as scarcely as possible.

Cal sprinted and hurriedly followed whatever it is that was shepherding him to you. Clearly, it was the Force—indescribable but certain. Coming from the west, he ended up in the main elevator lobby—the center of it all. Finally, the two of you have crossed paths; your sneaking off and your scaling of the place just to be out of sight from the enemies and the workers there—even if they were just droids.

Your eyes meet.

“[y/n]…” that is all Cal uttered.

For one, you were thrilled to see Cal safe and sound and seemingly unscathed. There weren’t visible wounds on his face, no tears and rips on his clothes—he was perfectly fine. You could’ve sworn you even saw his eyes light up and the corners of his lips curl up when he found you.

And yet you feel something ominous exuding from him. There was no doubt about it and there was no other way of explaining it. Your smile was a short-lived one. You stepped closer to him, close enough to touch him again—you cradled his cheeks with your trembling hands and looked into his eyes—and in that moment, you’ve confirmed what you’ve been fearing this whole time.

It was the Dark Side of the Force.

“Oh, my love, what have they done to you?” you gasped.

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