#now all she needs is cal kestis to complete her collection

[thecleverqueer]

In a way, I kind of wish Shin would turn coat and follow Sabine and Ahsoka… mainly because it would be funny. Ahsoka would, at that point, be collecting obnoxious, feral force sensitive young(ish) adults like stray cats.

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (1)

Chapter 1: A Child Can Dream | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: I AM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! Our house is clean, power and wifi is back on, and we’re slowly getting back on our feet now! ❤ It was a tough 2 weeks, but we survived. My neighborhood is getting back on its own feet as well. We just need more time in flushing out whatever trace of the flood remains. Thank you so much to @glxy-otter​ and @someoneovertherainboww​ for sending me lots of love & support! It really made me smile 💜🥺

Also in AO3

Previous: Prelude | Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The garage was filled with the same perpetual noise. For a seven-year-old, this is no suitable place for a child—but this is the normal she grew up in.

“Hurry up with that chassis!” barked a male Twi’lek with orange skin in Huttese.

The girl answered, in the same dialect, “Can’t you see that this thing is twice my size, Pelug!?”

“You’re lucky you’re faster than those pit droids, otherwise, I would’ve put you in concessionaire duty!”

A pair of hazel eyes shot a piercing look at the humanoid, a scowl forming in her eyebrows.

The orange Twi’lek’s pair of lekku wagged along with his finger pointed at the girl, his threat didn’t scare her as much as he wanted to—though it’s common knowledge that concessionaire duty was the worst, one is essentially demoted if put there. But she thinks she’s proved herself highly unlikely of being in that position.

Not receiving help—not expecting to either—she hauled up the chassis on a crate while shooing the doddering pit droids. When the path was clear, the hatch had already been opened—thanks to those little ones—to screw in the part before the big race. The speakers crackled and echoed across the entire garage, reminding us that the participants have less than thirty minutes before the racers are required to bring their rides on the starting block.

“Irele,” Pelug called in Basic, but immediately went back to speaking Huttese. “You got tiny hands, hold this open for me while I close off the hydraulic seals.”

Irele obeyed. She had a few seconds of relaxing her fingers one seal after the other.

After the tech work, their contender—a male Togruta named Gelesh with uneven lekku—hopped onto his podracer. A few switches and clicks, the Brazen Bullet roared to life—lights flickered across the entire dashboard, the engines belched, and the turbines thrummed.

“Hey, if Sebulba fights dirty—”

“I’ll fight filthier!” he cuts Irele off laughing, but she let it pass. The exchange was somewhat tradition for both of them.

The speakers in the garage crackled again, startling many who are inside, and the croaky announcer prompted the racers to prepare at the starting block; in less than a second, a second translates everything to Huttese. The announcer was the two-headed sentient of species she still doesn’t know the name of.

Gelesh’s entourage—including Irele—strolled out of the garage and made for the exit. The Tatooine sunlight abruptly blazed its rays over their heads, luckily, they were wearing headgear. Gelesh was confident although the nervousness was somehow getting to him, the girl can sort of sense it—along with a few more emotions that she didn’t want to point out to make it worse for him.

“Hey, Gel?”

“Yeah, Irele?”

“Relax.”

That took a load off of his chest, his lips stretched to a friendly grin, he pulled himself together first and then his goggles next. To each racer, they followed the instructions as the two-headed sentient said so. All the technicians began scrambling back to their pit stop when the mufflers have fired up. Little Irele went further into their pit stop, crawling through spaces that only she can enter; she then scaled a spire with makeshift handholds she herself installed until she could reach a ledge on the spire that apparently supported one of the spectator boxes.

The seven-year-old was small enough to seat herself on such a narrow edge; from there, she has as good as a view of the spectators in the towers and stands. If the crowd was already rowdy before the racers lined up on the block, the noise got wilder and louder that perhaps one can hear it all the way to Mos Pelgo. Each podracer had their characteristic noise for each action: ignition, acceleration, compressor activation, and what have you—Irele can identify the Brazen Bullet and its every sound with her eyes closed.

“Alright, racers, rev up those engines because we start in five…”

A collective of podracers engine noises rung and rumbled the circuit. Three seconds in, their ignition sent dust clouds flying over the heads of the poor people in the bottom row of the stands. The people in the bleachers joined the countdown, and so did Irele as she kept her eye on the single podracer whose body plates are forged with bronzium.

“ONE!!”

One by one, the vehicles zipped past—their noises abrupt like the firing of a blaster, the mufflers thunderous as they pulled the accelerators—some of the audience members had the hems of their clothes flying to the direction of the podracers, nonetheless arousing their secondhand adrenaline.

Irele’s little heart went with Brazen Bullet speeding right in the lead, the bronzium finish of the vehicle were fleeting specks of light over her glossy, hazel eyes. She scaled the spire some more until she could sneak a peek on one of the watchers’ tablets to see who’s in the lead and dead last. For everytime Gelesh completed the lap, Irele could almost feel her heels floating, as if she was the one driving the pod and feeling the exact velocity, the thrill, the sheer focus—driving one was a dream, though her mother forbade her, begged her even not to try it, but said so with a softness that compels Irele to obey, despite her desires.

Everyone had their eyes on the rising star, Gelesh, who was also leaving Sebulba in the dust. Hot on his heels, the Dug desperately cranked every possible lever his hind legs could grab on—in the hopes of catching up to the Togruta. The Dug, unwilling to accept defeat after the destruction of his streak by the victory of that one human boy years ago.

That boy was Anakin Skywalker.

Irele had heard stories of him: how he defeated the Dug despite all odds, and snagged the top place in the race, and how he was an underdog in everyone’s eyes. She wondered if they might have been friends somehow, given their mutual penchant for podracing albeit preferring different aspects.

“This is it, people! This is the last lap of the circuit—Gelesh Odibra and Sebulba are practically neck-and-neck! Who will cross the finish line first!? They’re all so close now!! It’s Gelesh!! No, it’s Sebulba!!”

The sentient argues with its Huttese-speaking head, looping what the Basic-speaking head kept saying in a continuous effort in riling up the crowd. Irele was literally on the edge of the tier when the Brazen Bullet and Sebulba’s podracer were within view. A twin-trail of sand, clouding the tail-ends of the podracers approach the starting line—with the third light blinking green, eager for the victor to zoom through it.

It was all such a blur. The crowd cheered, nonetheless, believing that their eyes didn’t deceive them and that they saw their contender stay ahead of the other by a hair. Not long after, a scuffle was developing when two differing spectators argued on whose champion went through the finish line first. Irele spotted it across from where she sat, but she didn’t watch the scuffle for long; she turned her attention to the announcer’s tower.

“Wow, did you see how close that was! Everything was such a blur I’m not even sure if I saw it right!”

The second head agreed, speaking in Huttese, in the same enthusiasm as the Basic-speaking one.

To finally calm the crowd, and settle it once and for all, the sentient clicks a pattern of buttons on their control panel to project a snapshot of the two racers at the finish line—determining who was closest to the line. Showing images from all angles, it’s clear that the Brazen Bullet’s nose was basically under the sensors of the light—thus triggering all three lights to indicate that a racer has completed the circuit.

“I don’t believe it! This is Gelesh’s third win in the streak—cementing his record just right above Sebulba’s!”

By the hum of a gong echoing across the circuit, a large portion of the crowd jumped and roared in a united cheer—ribbons and petals of sorts flew in congratulation, showering the youthful Togruta in his victory. He hopped out of his podracer, his entourage comes sprinting out of their pit stop with Irele at the tail just getting down from her perch.

“GELESH, YOU DID IT!” squealed the girl, sprinting and shouldering her way to his view.

A host hands over a trophy to Gelesh who then let Irele—perched on his broad shoulder—hold the other side of the trophy. People have gotten out of their seats to surround the defending champion. They chanted his name, the rest of the spectators showered him with flowers, petals, and ribbons.

Every victory was wonderful for Irele. Perhaps, it equaled to the exact same thrill as driving her own podrace. This went on for two more years, and in those next years, they enjoyed the sport—win or lose.

–

24 BBY

It seemed that the garage manager was feeling gracious today. The Rodian boss let Irele go home earlier than her normal shift, in which the girl celebrated with a grin whose ends pierced her plump cheeks, a squeaking cheer as she scrambles to put away her things, and a sprint that sent the dust floating behind her heels.

Irele didn’t head home right away, she went the other direction—towards the junkshop where her mother worked, employed by the blue, pungent Toydarian, Watto. The chimes rang as she burst through the door, startling the creature—who hoped it was a customer, but much to his chagrin, it was only the girl, and so he returns to his chair with a groan.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Over there,” Watto lazily pointed and croaked with his native accent running thick in his voice.

“Mommy?”

Shmi paused at the workbench to meet her daughter, “Irele? You’re out early.”

Irele threw herself into Shmi’s arms, embracing her as tight as her scrawny arms can, “Yeah, Selek let me out early today. Good thing he did!”

Her mother simply smiled, perhaps too overwhelmed by her daughter’s energy.

“You didn’t forget, did you?”

That somehow jolted Shmi enough for her realize that she had caught herself spacing out. She shook her head and mouthed the word “no,” she saw the concerned expression in Irele’s face and took her daughter by the shoulders.

“No, darling, I didn’t forget,” she pursed a sweet smile and tapped the tip of Irele’s nose with her forefinger. “How could I forget my promise to you?”

Irele’s eyes lit up, the sihght of it delighted her mother. Shmi then finished up whatever work she’s been busying herself with before getting off of work. Mother and child strolled out of the junkshop, Irele trottd off happily while keeping her hand clasped in Shmi’s—who was walking in her normal pace, with a few occasional tugs from the child because of her prancing.

By the time they got home, Irele impatiently put her things away in her room, got washed, and eagerly waited for Shmi to join her in the kitchen. The promise was that they were going to cook something together—a house favorite of Irele: Shmi’s own, delicious recipe. They had saved enough from their wages separately, and in total, they had enough to buy ingredient for a hearty, full supper consisting of meat, a medley of mushrooms and vegetables, and fruits and pallies for dessert.

They could only do this once for their individual pay was rather low.

All of this is a celebration of Irele turning eight.

A simple celebration with fulfilling food on the table, with no one else but her mother and herself, in the coziness of their cottage—to Irele, it was wonderful. And perfect.

It was everything she could ever ask for.

–

Months after their promised celebration, Irele had been seeing a man with sandy brown hair and a scraggly stubble. Maybe once or twice, she saw him clean-shaven. She always saw him frequenting Watto’s shop, either to buy or play Sabacc—but oftentimes, the latter in which Watto had a questionable win record. One should not be surprised if the blue Toydarian won through his swindler’s methods.

This man was Cliegg Lars.

Apparently, Shmi had caught the eye of Cliegg, as he frequented the junkshop in search of parts mostly for speeders and other machines he uses. Despite being a child, Lars’s feelings did not escape the insightful Irele; in her opinion, he’d been coming over to the shop a little too often for someone who kept fixing speeders. Although, she cannot be certain if his motives are true; it’s still a lead nonetheless. Even she had drawn attention to herself from the man, shying away from his gruff yet friendly hello’s, and then curiously watching him deal with Watto whilst hiding behind walls.

It wasn’t long until Cliegg began to fall for Shmi, rooting from their day-to-day interactions with one another whenever he would stop by. He pretended that he doesn’t feel Irele tailing them, but he didn’t let that bother him—she’s a child after all, he thought.

Shmi presently being a mother with a daughter in tow didn’t trouble Cliegg. A man of ethics—a rare trait in this lawless ball of sand—he could not imagine buying off Shmi from Watto, but then leaving the child to the Toydarian. Fortunately for Lars, it was evident that Watto’s gambling—with a not-so-impressive track record to boot—had gradually collapsed his business. Little by little, Watto’s wares had either been disposed of or been sold to the lowest possible price in the hopes of keeping the business up. When there was nothing else to profit from, Watto would be forced to sell his remaining property—the mother and child slaves. Cliegg took it from there.

From a certain point of view, his proposition of buying Shmi and Irele intrigued the Toydarian.

“How much you gunna pay fo meh two slaves, eh?” rasped Watto, irreparably pronouncing “slaves” as slehvz in his thick, native Toydarian accent.

“I can pay you twenty thousand each,” Cliegg bobbed his head for the dramatics, pretending to be pensive. “I’ll pawn off my X-class landspeeder to pay them.”

A single holodisk produced a projection of the item in question. The speeder—brand new and in its prime, only seven months old—was an interesting wager in and of itself. The rusty-reddish paint job would stand out in the desert, whether up close or in the horizon, sunlight would bounce off on the sheen of the thrusters’ metallic sections. Truly a shiny new toy.

Cliegg could have sworn he heard the clinking of credits when Watto’s eyes lit up with greedy intrigue.

Good, that’s gotten his attention. Thought the man.

Watto hovered himself closer to the projection, his flimsy wings struggled to carry his weight as they flapped erratically, and rubbed his fleshy chin at the same time. To the flying sentient, it wasn’t a bad deal, at least for Lars’s expense in his mind—the ratio of the trade somewhat balances out: Lars wants two things from him, thus he wagers something in the same worth.

“You must think me a fool, Watto,” Cliegg noted the perhaps long silence of Watto examining the images. “To pay you the price of a single landspeeder for two slaves.”

The Toydarian chuckled, then gestured defensively, “No, no. I don’t that, Lars, meh friend. In fact, this is quite an int’resting investment.” His emphasis on the word “investment” made him enunciate the S into a harsh, buzzing Z.

Perhaps, it is in the nature of every Toydarian to call anything an investment—even a gamble on a card game. There aren’t many of Watto’s kind here in Tatooine, but that is the only impression Cliegg can pick up from Watto for his opinion on the species. Not having any of the suspense, the man tried to broke the deal until they can shake on it. Watto came so far as making an event out of it, but Lars insisted to refrain from the grandeur, to which his beneficiary gave in.

They finally shook on it. The two males were clueless that Irele had been eavesdropping on their exchange. It was a bad habit that Shmi had gently reprimanded her of, but just this once, she had never been invested in someone else’s conversation—only because the subject was their freedom at stake, and it was this stranger who dared to go through this length of settling an agreement with their current slaver. Irele’s mind was in a whirl—would he be a kinder slaver than Watto? More generous or more cruel? With their conversation going on what felt like hours, she had resorted to sitting on the floor, her back against the wall as she listened in on their voices.

The girl heard the door chimes followed by the silence, then she scrambled to her feet when she heard the flapping of Watto’s wings grow louder and disappeared as quietly as she could.

Two days later after that agreement had been set in stone, today’s the fateful day: Shmi finds out only now that she and Irele had been sold to Cliegg Lars. When Watto announced that he’s sold them together to this man, understandably, the woman was taken aback from her lack of prior knowledge, and she had every right to be surprised. Her daughter, on the other hand, feigned it—her false silence fit in with the mood of the room.

Shmi and Irele Skywalker watched the pouch of credits transfer from Cliegg’s hand to Watto’s, signifying that they now belong to Cliegg Lars.

“Take them,” Watto says, although somberly. He hovers in place as he watches Shmi and Irele join Cliegg out of the shop.

“I wish you good luck on your business, Watto,” Lars bade, however, it felt backhanded.

At the entrance of the junkshop awaited a pair of eopies—tall, quadrupedal animals that served as mounts for people and carriers of cargo—handled by a Jawa that Cliegg hired for a few hours.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t give you two a more comfortable ride to your new home,” there was a sincerity in Lars’s voice, warm and genuine, something that Shmi nor Irele had not heard for a long time.

“It’s fine,” Shmi stuttered while trying to be polite. “I’m more used with the mount than speeders.”

“Ah, well, where you’re living—you’ll get used to it, but I’ll let you do it in your own pace.”

With a simple waving gesture from Cliegg, the Jawa hauled the animal pair then coaxed both to go down on their knees—level enough so the humans can hop on their backs. Each eopie grunted when they felt more weight on themselves; Shmi and Irele shared one saddle, Lars took the lead from town to their new home.

[obi-wan-is-babe]

Padawan Braid

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!Reader

Summary: Cal never thought he’d meet another padawan...nor be jealous of them.

Key: Y/N = your name, Reess Nerdres = oc Jedi master

——————

He never would have noticed her in any other place, in any other circumstance, in any other time.

But he knew something felt wrong.

The crew of the Mantis had stopped in this town for one of the only reasons they ever stopped in a town: resistance work. A small rebel cell was looking for reinforcements against the new Empire occupation they were facing. Hoping to cut the head off the snake before it made itself at home, Cere had gotten the lead on the mission and gladly took the rebels up on their request.

Cal was doing his part by staking out the marketplace, gathering intel for the rebels, and looking for a new poncho to add to his collection. Merrin said it was getting out of hand, but Cal thought that was nonsense.

He was careful to keep his hand in his pockets, trying to avoid touching anything or anyone in the market. The devastation of the Empire was fresh here and he needed to be on his toes instead of incapacitated in a vision of the past. Even with his hands hidden away, he could sense everyone around him, their pain so prominent. But that’s how he knew something was off.

He passed by her a couple of times, oblivious to her at first. Cal regarded her as just another town’s person, and lumped her into the sadness he felt all around him. The third time he passed her was when he noticed it.

Nothingness.

It was an uncomfortable feeling. Something his psychometry never let happen. He always felt something, the pull of the past searching for his touch. But she just...didn’t. He studied her. She was very pretty, he admitted to himself, but he tried to look past that and see her, beyond the physical plane. He couldn’t. So he looked at her here as she shopped for fruits.

Her face wasn’t harsh, but he couldn’t describe it as soft. She looked like someone who had been through quite a bit. She was obviously meticulous, her hair was up in one of those intense braided styles, but her clothes made her blend into those who roamed the aisles.

As she moved to her next destination, Cal followed her, forgetting his mission for the moment. Stubbornly, he continued trying to sense her within the Force and became increasingly frustrated as he couldn’t pinpoint her. He felt his efforts swerve to the people surrounding her, every try was a different person and their story. He let out a groan of frustration and blushed when others stared.

“Sorry,” he muttered, but in that moment of embarrassment, he lost her. “Karabast.”

You peaked around the corner and spotted the boy who had been following you walk the opposite direction. You let out the breath you had been holding since you first sensed his presence.

At first you had been taken a back by the presence of a fellow Force sensitive. In all the time you had been hiding here, the only Force sensitives that had come here were inquisitors, and you tended to avoid them. However, his presence wasn’t negative like theirs. It was very peaceful, but you couldn’t take any chances. If you could use a Force shield, gods know how many others could as well. You caught yourself unconsciously playing with one of the bands on the braid closest to your right ear, and quickly pulled your hand away.

Not wanting to risk exposure any further, you began your trek back to your home, if you could even call it that. Not that you didn’t appreciate the woman who took in a random child off the street and housed them, it just wasn’t what you had ever expected for yourself when you were found by the Jedi Order and taken under Master Reess Nerdres’ instruction.

She was the one who had found you originally. You were a bit older than the other younglings they had usually taken in, but it was only because they couldn’t sense you at first. You had an aptitude for Force shielding and stealth, stronger than most Jedi. Reess Nerdress was the one of the only Jedi who had focused on stealth skills in training, so she was the best at seeking those with like talents through the force. That’s how she found you.

You thought about your master often, especially when you were feeling alone in the universe, like the Jedi had never existed and the life you knew was nothing but a dream. That is what had affected you most when the boy came into the market. You almost appreciated when you could let all the memories drift away, but his presence reminded you that it did happen, and that Master Nerdress had been real and had really been killed by Skips.

Skips, you hadn’t thought about him in years. He was like an older brother to you. You couldn’t even imagine how he could’ve done that to her.

No, you thought, No I can’t think about him. I can’t think about her. I can’t let my guard down.

He felt it. It happened in an instant. She was there, and she was hurting.

In that quick blip, Cal was able to get an idea of where she was. The only problem was now he had to slip away from the meeting without Cere, Greez, or Merrin noticing. A near impossible task in itself, but worse within close quarters. He had started inching himself towards the door ever so slowly when Greez spoke up.

“Cal,” the entire room turned to look at him as he had just reached the door, “Why don’t you give us your surveillance report.”

With all eyes on him, Cal did something he never liked to do. He lied. “Can I...uh...get back to you on that? I’m...not...feeling too great.” With that, he busted out the door and ran toward what he only hoped was her.

The streets became narrower and the area more residential as Cal made his way to her last known location. Once he had gotten there though, she had been long gone. There weren’t many people in the streets due to the sinking suns and those who straggled seemed to be going out to work rather than going home for a quiet night with their family. That is what the Empire does though, they rip people from their families and force them into labor.

In the midst of the people, he wondered if any of them might know his mystery girl. An older, gentle looking Twi’lek woman was about to pass by him, and he thought there is no hurt in asking.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” He stepped closer to her, still careful to avoid touching her.

She turned to him slowly, but she didn’t look upset that he stopped her. She had a light smile on her face as she responded, “Yes? Are you lost young one?” Her voice was aged, but it held a life time of kindness in it.

“Well, sort of. I’m looking for someone I met in the marketplace,” he watched her nod as if to tell him to continue, “A young woman, she dresses plainly but her hair is done in one of those intense braid styles and she’s fairly pretty.” He added the last part with a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, that sounds like my Y/N! She just got home not too long ago from there.” She looked to the sky and gauged the setting suns. “I’m sorry, but I can’t show you to my house or else I will be late to my new work.” He felt himself deflate, upset that such a kind woman was under Empire control and that he wouldn’t get the chance to meet Y/N. “However,” Cal perked up at hearing this, “I can give you directions. We aren’t too far and I’m sure you can remember them.”

Eyupkoba gave Cal short directions and headed off to do who know what for the Empire. It gave him pause, he was sad to see her go. This could never have been the life she had wanted when she came here, and there she was, going to serve the Emperor. His conflict subsided when he glanced at the suns and saw how low they were. He couldn’t be away from the rebels too much longer, so he set off to the house.

It was a small place, a home befitting an elderly woman and her child. Cal admired it, though. I was nicer than anything he had stayed in on Bracca, and Prauf had lived in one of the nicest homes there. He hesitantly stepped up to the door. He took a moment to build up his courage and knocked.

He waited. He replayed the directions in his head to confirm he was in the right location, which he was. He then knocked again and waited. This time he heard a rustling behind the door.

“Hello? I can hear you, I know you’re home.” Cal waited for a response, but none came. “Eyupkoba told me I would find you here.” At the Twi’lek’s name, the door had opened, and there she stood. 

Her hair hung loose in waves, and the look on her face was best described as suspicious. She was wearing the under dress of her dull outerwear, but she still looked radiant.

“Who are you? Why have you come here?” Her questions were slow and meticulous. She had let him inside and checked behind him, as if she had expected more than just him.

He cleared his throat. Cal honestly didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t think he was ever going to get this far. But now here he was, standing right across from her and the only thing he could say was:

“You missed one.”

Her face switch from suspicion to confusion faster than a blaster could fire. “Excuse me?”

“Your braids. You missed one,” he pointed towards her right ear, “There.”

She quickly reached up and found the braid he had mentioned, but did nothing. It gave Cal a chance to get a closer look at it. The braid was thin, but it had colorful bands wrapped around it. There was a yellow band, a green band, and a black band. They looked so familiar. It reminded him of...his padawan braid.

“Wait..” he took some time to put two-and-two together. Braid, colored bands, Force sensitive, hiding. “You’re a Jedi!”

“Shhh!” She quickly rushed over to him and put a hand over his mouth. They stayed like that for a few moments as she studied the door, expecting someone to burst in at any moment. When she was sure that she wasn’t going to be immediately taken away, she removed her hand. She stepped back and stared Cal down. “I am not a Jedi.”

“But you have the braid-”

“I was a padawan, yes. I never completed my trials, so I am not a Jedi.” She had finally stopped staring at him like she was about to murder him. Y/N walked into a kitchen area and returned to a dinner she had been either making or cleaning up. “Are you hungry?”

“Wait. You can’t just change the subject like that!” Cal found himself getting angry. “If you never completed your training, why do you have your padawan braid still? It’s disgraceful! Do you even know what happened to the Jedi? And you walk around as if their teaching meant nothing. How was your braid not ripped out?” He felt his face get hot and his anger welling up in his stomach. He had to cut out his braid moments after landing on Bracca. It was the only way to keep himself safe, and here she was. Able to walk around marketplaces and right in front of the Empire, her braid disappearing within the other braids that lie on her head.

She spun around, her face contorted in anger, like his. “I know what happened! I watched as my master was killed by a man I thought of as a brother. Her last words still haunt my nightmares, and this braid haunts my waking hours.” All the anger left her face in an instant. It was replaced by tears. “I couldn’t get rid of it. It is one of the only things that reminds me...of that life. Not the fear of today. Of a peaceful and happy time.”

Cal watched as she slumped into a chair, her head in her hands as she cried. All of his anger left him. He was slightly in shock. He had never really thought about what had happened to other padawans, beside Trilla, after the clones turned on them. He had forgotten that many other padawans either perished beside their masters or had been saved, like he was. Cal began feeling awful as he watched Y/N cry.

He made his way over to kitchen and sat at her feet. “Hey,” this time he spoke softly, “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” He reached up and began running his fingers through Y/N’s hair. His psychometry slowly walking him through what happened to her. They sat like that for a while, Cal whispering words of comfort every so often.

Eventually, she stopped crying. She sat up, her eyes looking tired and sniffled a few more times. “It’s not fair,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“No. It’s not fair that I can hold onto my past like this, and you couldn’t.” She gave the braid a gentle tug as she said that. She slid a hand through his hair, as if searching for the place his braid had once been.

“You’re right,” he admitted, “I wish I could’ve kept that reminder. But that isn’t the only way you can remember your past.” Cal looked into her eyes and held her stare. “Follow their teachings. Fight for what they would have fought for. And you can never forget them.” He thought of Master Tapal as he said this. He imagined him giving that soft, approving smile. Cal imagined it was for all the things he was doing to help the resistance and end the Empire’s reign.

She let out a heavy sigh that turned into a light chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that. At least not since coming here.” Cal gave her a confused look and she continued, “I was trained in stealth,” she showed him the black band on her padawan braid, “My master had taught me that emotion regulation was the most important part of shielding oneself from those strong in the Force. That’s why I’m not easy to track.” She gave him a knowing smile.

“You can shield yourself?” Cal felt relieved as all the pieces fell into place. “That’s why I felt a nothingness.”

“A nothingness? I’ve never heard it described as that.” She gave him a studious look. “Unless you have psychometry.”

Cal gave her a sheepish grin. “Guilty.” He watched as Y/N smiled back at him, and he couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach.

“What now?” She asked the question so plainly, Cal wasn’t sure he knew what she meant. “Now that I’ve been exposed,” she explained, “It won’t be safe here from inquisitors for much longer.”

Cal gave her a once over. He wasn’t sure that this was the best idea, but he couldn’t bare to think of what would happen to Y/N if the inquisitors got her.

“Have you heard of the resistance...”

[gffa]

so i was just thinking about star wars (as you do) and i realized... do the jedi (the survivors, that is) and in general the people ever actually all find out that the clones like... had no choice with order 66? i know a few jedi learn about it, but like, is it ever made public in the aftermath of the empire's defeat? 5 years after the massacre (while the empire still exists) cal kestis still believes the clones betrayed them. i'm assuming later the resistance learns some of it through rex? hmmm

I DON’T THINK THEY DO.  Some of them learn the truth–Kanan seems to know, we know Ferren Barr knew, Rex and Gregor and Wolffe knew–but it seems like the galaxy in general didn’t.While it’s possible that it may eventually come to light–it would be very easy to slide in somewhere that Luke or Leia told people the truth, along the lines of that’s my headcanon for how everyone knew Palpatine was a Sith Lord by the time of the sequels–we have evidence that the wider galaxy definitely didn’t know.In Force Collector (set sometime close-ish to The Force Awakens), Karr Nuq Sin goes on a journey to discover the truth, which is difficult because most people don’t really even know the Jedi existed as anything significant (if they believe they existed at all) and Palpatine’s propaganda is still in full effect in many places, like when they go talk to the son of a clone who died during the war, he believes everything that Palpatine said about them:

      Karr beamed. Leaving Merokia was already proving helpful. “Then if your dad was a clone trooper, you must know about the Jedi,” he prompted.      Sconto’s expression fell. A blank look replaced his wide smile.      Karr could see Maize was about to laugh, thinking she had found someone who shared her disbelief, until she noticed that all the good humor had gone out of the room.      “Don’t talk to me about Jedi,” Sconto said, his cheery demeanor taking on a hardened tone.      Karr chided himself for being so carefree about his quest. He forgot that the galaxy was a big place filled with big opinions, and many didn’t line up with his way of thinking. “I’m only asking as a history buff. I’m trying to find—”      But the man cut him off. “My father was killed in those wars. Gone before I ever met him. And I don’t think I need to tell you who I hold responsible?”      “The Jedi,” Arzee said enthusiastically, as if answering a bit of trivia. Karr winced, wishing he had programmed the droid to understand when a question was rhetorical.      “War is an ugly thing,” Sconto continued. “Both sides think they’re right, and many lives are lost because of it. You can’t argue with fighting for what you believe in, but…” He paused as if he was tempering his anger again. “Betrayal,” he bellowed. “To turn on your fellow soldiers in arms, to cheat and strike like cowards! That’s just…” He searched for the worst word he could think of.  “Disgraceful.” Then he spit on the ground as if the word wasn’t enough.      Everyone was a little dumbstruck, but Maize couldn’t help breaking the silence.      “The Jedi really existed?”      “Absolutely,” he said with bitterness. “There were tons of them. But now they’re all gone. Of course, their legend has grown beyond their power by now. It happens that way sometimes, with heroes and villains alike. The truth is never as simple as it seems, in history books or anyplace else. The Jedi were a bunch of power-hungry renegades, a few of whom might have had some sort of abilities.” He waved a hand dismissively. “But at the end of the day, they were violent traitors, and the clones were right to put them down.”

He thinks that the Jedi were the ones to turn on the clones, that they were the traitors, and the clones chose to put them down.  (Which is really painful because he’s actually describing much closer to what happened to the Jedi, that Palpatine forced the clones to cheat and strike at their backs like a coward, never even realizing that the clones weren’t given any choice in this.)Karr’s great-grandfather (a Jedi who left when he was a Padawan) also believed the propaganda about them and it was up to Karr to have to tell him the truth (who had discovered it through his psychometric abilities) and he was devastated to learn about it.  That’s how deeply Palpatine’s propaganda was sold across the galaxy.

      RZ-7 agreed, as gently as he could. “Sir, you took such noble measures to protect your family—and those measures were successful. But there was no need to turn your back on the Jedi. They never turned their back on the Republic. Or you.”      Naq Med sank slowly to the floor. His grip on the can he used for a cup loosened, and it fell—spilling its contents across the rug. “But if that’s true, it was all for nothing. The Grand Inquisitor…?” he asked of anyone who might answer. Karr said, “A pawn of the Emperor. He turned on his own kind.” He paused. In the back of his head, an idea gelled. He spoke slowly, putting the words in order as they occurred to him. “The dark side won. The bad guys won so completely that when they were finished…there was nobody left to remember the good guys. No one to tell their side of the story. No one to collect their history and write it down—not once the Temple was gone. They say history is written by the winners, but it should be written by those who remember. Those who care about the facts.”      The old man settled in a loose cross-legged position, his arms at his sides, his hands lying limply in his lap. “It was all a lie. My whole life, everything I lost…”

(It doesn’t help that the Empire erased anything that talked about the Jedi or the Force, so there was nothing to contradict their story.)Ultimately, there is hope, though.  The Force seems to have chosen Karr specifically to show him what really happened, how the Jedi were betrayed and that they had never turned their backs on the Republic, that his role isn’t to become a Jedi himself, but to tell their story, the real story of their courage and bravery.And that seems to be reflected in Star Wars Propaganda where an author writes an entire book on how one conflict led into the next and while the Jedi are a small part of that book, as well as it doesn’t directly focus on Order 66 much or anything, it does show that the Jedi weren’t part of the corruption eating away at the Republic, that their problem was one of being really shit at PR more than anything.So someday the galaxy should know the truth.  There’s hope out there!  But it’s going to take awhile because the Empire was really, really thorough in scrubbing out the actual truth and replacing it with their own narrative.But glimmers exist.  The crew in Alphabet Squadron discover a Jedi Temple and realize there may be more to them than the Empire said.  Savi from Black Spire knew the Jedi were good and did much to protect the galaxy.  In-universe stories from Myths & Fables survive.  Poe Dameron speaks incredibly warmly about the Jedi and their traditions in the Poe Dameron comics.  Maz Kanata knew them and she liked them.The truth may not be widespread, but it’s not dead in the GFFA and one day I’m sure the whole galaxy will know it again.But in the meantime, it’s heartbreaking that nobody knew for so very long.  Nobody knew the Jedi bled and died for the Republic, for the clones, for the citizens.  Nobody knew that the clones were victims of the system, were treated like disposable cannon fodder, that they weren’t given much of anything once the war was over, that the best they could hope for was, yeah, I guess you’re a person now, and if you want, you can work for the Empire to train Stormtroopers, with the few days you have left because of your rapid aging.  Nobody knew what those chips in their heads did to them.  Nobody knew the trauma and guilt and horror they had to live with having shot their Jedi in the backs.  Nobody knew any of this for a long, long time and some details will probably always be lost to history.

[creative-frequency]

Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 01

Word count: 1772 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: Friends to lovers, mild angst, canon-rewrite. As part of the Mantis’ crew, you’re off to save the Jedi on Bracca. Notes: I have loads of plans for this fic, lots of fluff included. Don’t judge me for starting another multi-chap, I don’t know how to stop.

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 01

“On Bracca?” you repeat and jump on the cockpit chair. You catch a flash of the serious look on Cere’s face.

“We need to go now,” she urges the ship’s captain and pilot, Greez Dritus.

Greez’s four arms are working in triple speed, a forgotten Salthia bean muffin in one of them. Greez absolutely hates crumbs and the cockpit of the Mantis is food-forbidden area, but this is a more pressing matter than a muffin.

A Jedi – detected hiding on Bracca. The Imperial Inquisitors are already on the move and so should your small crew if you are to reach the Jedi first.

//

The first glimpse you catch of him is dirt and flaring ginger hair.

Cere tells him to keep moving until you’re able to pick him up. You’re trying to pace Greez from freaking out. There is too much going on, including a moving train, Imperial troopers everywhere, several TIE fighters and a few Inquisitors flying around. You wish you could say it’s just another day saving the galaxy but you’re likely at least half as scared shitless as Greez, and he’s handling the Mantis expertly.

If you get through this, you really need to start complimenting him more often.

The Jedi is on the move. An Imperial fighter zooms past you and, no matter how much Cere yells, it drops an explosive on the train, making it break in half and derail. The train’s roof turns into a slide.

“Front of the train!” you shout and point to where the Jedi will inevitably fall down.

Greez steers the Mantis as close as he dares.

The drawbridge is open and the Jedi catches the edge. Before you can run to see if there’s any way you can help, he has already fallen down and the whole ship is shaking from the incoming Imperial fire. Greez curses heavily.

“He fell!” Cere shouts. You help her inside.

“Go down!” You try to peer below in the rain, to see any movement – or a couple of flashing lightsabers, a red and a blue one. A classic showdown but it’s not one of those days when you want to meet an Imperial Inquisitor.

“Shoot!” you scream so that Greez jolts and grabs the gun control. He blasts the Inquisitor, effectively separating the lightsaber fight.

Cere opens the drawbridge again. “Get on board!”

The Jedi scrambles up from the smoking ground, clearly injured and clutching his lightsaber. Cere pulls him inside and throws him right into your open arms when he tries to stay dallying by the doorway.

The poor guy looks like a scazz hit with a flash bomb. He is wet from the rain, dirty and shaking from the adrenaline. He barely meets your eyes before taking a broad distance and lighting up his weapon.

“Captain!”

It’s your signal to leave Bracca.

Cere slams the button and just as the ship doors close, the Inquisitor’s lightsaber leaves a molten slash on the metal.

Another thing Greez won’t be happy about.

The Jedi stares at you for a fleeting second, lightsaber in tow and ready, and sprints to the cockpit to see the Second Sister slam against the windshield. She uses the Force to wrestle control of the ship from Greez and the Mantis starts to spin recklessly. All warning sounds burst into a chaotic song and you try to hold on for your life and not bump into the blue lightsaber. Someone is going to get an earful about flight safety later.

Cere leaps forward and turns the steering wheel briskly. The Second Sister falls off the ship.

For a couple of short breaths, everyone waits. No one dares to put the collective thought of “did we really make it?” out there. Greez and Cere look at each other before he gets up and pulls the handle down. The Mantis jumps into hyperspace, to safety.

The Jedi withdraws his weapon at Greez’s behest and you finally risk taking a heavy breath.

Cal Kestis, he introduces himself. Cere explains the situation as best as she can and as far as she believes is required. Cal keeps rolling his right shoulder, flinching and grinding his teeth as he paces back and forth behind the holotable. His eyes skip between the three of you constantly, still wary and considering the possibility that he isn’t completely safe.

None of you can blame him. He’s been on the run for years to have survived this far. The encounter with the Inquisitor just cut all ties to his runaway life and made him a known fugitive.

“How do you know so much?” Cal asks, still slightly out of breath, “And why’d you help me?”

“We track Imperial communications. We heard the Inquisitors were heading to Bracca,” Cere says calmly, “So we made our move.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the bounty on Jedi these days anyway?” Cal asks in a menacing tone and looks at you on his left side.

“That’s gratitude for ya,” Greez states in a blaming tone, pointing at Cal. Cere sends a silencing look the pilot’s way.

“Look, I get it,” she continues, “You’ve been surviving on your own for so long that it’s impossible to trust anyone. And it’s what’s kept you alive.”

The experience of every surviving Jedi is different but when it comes to staying alive and under the radar, Cere knows what she’s talking about. What she says makes you think back to when you first hopped aboard the Mantis. Your situation was nowhere near as bad as the Jedi’s, but Cere has a way of bringing people together; giving, if not hope, then at least a direction.

Cal doesn’t look convinced.

“But this is about something bigger… Than just surviving,” Cere says. Her voice takes an almost pleading tone.

“Like what?” Cal asks, mildly curious but guarded.

“Like rebuilding the Jedi Order.”

Cere lets the silence sit in. Cal stares at her incredulously, trying to find the words.

“You three?” he questions quietly, scared of giving purchase to hope, “Anybody else?” He looks around as if to see more people in the ship. You notice the way his eyes enliven despite himself and already feel bad for what he’s going to learn next.

“Oh, we’re not good enough for you?” Greez bridles in his usual way.

“The Jedi Council?” Cal asks carefully and looks at Cere. A small shine of hope sparks in his eyes.

She cannot reply.

You step forward, hands folded on your chest and say: “They’re gone.”

Cere nods slightly in accord.

“Oh… So I’m all you’ve got.” Cal’s gaze sinks to the floor from you, disappointed. All those distant dreams about someone restoring the Order, while he works as a rigger on Bracca, are shattered. He knew things were bad but that didn’t stop him from hoping, somewhere deep inside in a place that was never to see daylight. Not that there was much daylight on Bracca anyways.

Your weight shifts from one foot to another, waiting for Cere to say something. She inhales deeply.

“Captain. Set a course for Bogano.”

“Aye, aye.” Greez steps back into the cockpit.

“In the meantime… Try and relax,” Cere says to Cal in a comforting tone. She motions towards the lounging area. “Go. You’re safe. For now,” she adds and goes after Greez.

Cal is left standing awkwardly in front of you, looking like a lost puppy. His ginger hair and dark blue clothes are dripping wet from the rain, covered in soot and the occasional dash of blood. He looks pale and as miserable as can be. You feel genuinely bad for him. He’s still inconspicuously rolling the shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” You nod towards his right arm.

“Uh, it’s nothing,” he replies instantly and lets go of it. The adrenaline is dying down and the pain gets more invasive with every heartbeat.

“Sit down. I’ll find you a stim.” You leave to dig through the containers, watching from the corner of your eye as Cal tentatively sits by the table and looks around him. If Greez dares to complain about wet stains on the sofa, you’ll eat him alive.

The Mantis is not large but it has everything you need. Though, you will be one cabin short now that your crew is expanded into four members.

“Here.” You hand the healing stim to Cal and sit a respectable distance away from him. Even the freckles dotting his skin look pale. He must be hurting.

Cal nods hesitantly and mumbles thanks before injecting it into his shoulder.

“Better?”

“Yeah, better.”

An awkward silence falls. You don’t want to push him into talking if he doesn’t feel like it. Greez and Cere are arguing about the Inquisitors in the cockpit. How to avoid them better. How to stay better informed on their moves. It’s a conversation you don’t want Cal to hear so soon after what happened.

He clears his throat and glances at you, trying to avoid staring. From what he can gather, you’re a human with no visible affiliations. Probably a bit older than him. He gets a very mixed feeling about you but that might be because he’s been used to pushing the Force down and not using it. It feels… odd to try to lean on it now. Like using a regained limb.

On top of it all, he’s afraid of breaking that limb again.

“How’d you get here?” Cal asks to push the surfacing thoughts away. He takes another glance at you. This time it lasts longer.

“Not nearly as fashionably as you. Less explosions,” you reply and flash him a smile that’s hopefully friendly.

He huffs, an almost chuckle, and you feel him relaxing just a little. His shoulder has stopped twitching and he looks more at you than the floor.

“I ran into Cere and decided I want to do something with my life,” you say.

“You weren’t a Jedi, were you? Or somehow related to the Order?” Cal’s voice finally loses the high alert undertone.

“Nah, nothing like that. I had… other engagements,” you explain vaguely.

Cal really wants to ask but decides he doesn’t meet the requirements to unlock your possibly tragic past. Not yet. Why would you even want to open up to a stranger you just met. He just needs something else to think about than what he just went through. Bracca is already far behind, both in distance and his life.

“There’s a free bed in the back if you’d like to rest,” you say and get up from the sofa. Cere and Greez have agreed to disagree and Cal looks a bit more at ease.

“Yeah, thanks.”

//

Next Chapter

[fangirlfics]

Reunited part 3 (Cal Kestis x reader)

word count: 702 summary: y/n, a former jedi and current bounty hunter attempts to capture Cal to collect a bounty however upon realizing he’s an old friend she changes her mind. (love triangle)

part 1 

part 2

let’s be honest I have no idea where this is going, I hope you’re all staying safe

y/n walked besides Cal and BD-1 through the thickest part of Zeffo’s forest. It had been three days now since they had been reunited and his crew’s ship was close to being completely fixed, it was supposed to be done later that afternoon. “We’re almost to the point where you should head back.” y/n told the jedi as she fished her gloves from her belt. 

“It’s fine, the village isn’t until another mile.” He protested, wanting to stay with her. 

She smiled, shaking her head “always so stubborn.”

“I should probably meet up with my friends anyway.“ Cal told her, “we’re leaving tonight anyway...“ Then a silence fell over the two. Sure Cal was being hunted down and it was only a matter of time before someone from her crew discovered his whereabouts, but the past few days y/n had with Cal had been the best ones she’d ever experienced since her jedi days. “You know.“ Cal said, stopping in his tracks, “you can come with me.“

“What?“ She asked the boy, dropping her gloves because of the sudden suggestion. 

“I mean it.“ He told her, bending over and reaching for her gloves.

“Cal it’s a nice thought but I can’t, what would I tell my crew? I’m a bounty hunter-“

“You don’t have to tell them anything, you can sneak away. My friends would love to have you!“ y/n smiled at the thought of joining his small anti-Galactic Empire party and took a deep breath. She thought of Jeremy and what he’d think if she just vanished, would he even care? After all although she wouldn’t like to admit it, she was more of a possession to him than a person. “Ok.“ She sighed, “I’ll go with you, but I have some stuff back at my crew’s place.“

Cal smiled the brightest smile she had seen in awhile “that’s fine, I can go with you.” He beamed, and BD-1 trilled happily at the fact that y/n would be joining their team. 

“No, that’s too risky. I’ll go alone, I'll be there in...say thirty minutes.“ Cal nodded in agreement and they were both off on their way.

The walk to where y/n and her bounty hunter “friends” lived wasn’t too long. She moved quietly peering into a small window located at the front of the house-where you could spot the living room area. Normally nobody really was home due to looking for another job, but she needed to be sure she was alone. And from what it seemed, she was alone. She sighed in relief going in through the front door and hurrying to the room that she shared with the two other girls that were part of the crew. She didn’t have many possessions, given that with their line of work they were almost constantly moving around. y/n picked up her brown leather bag that sat in one of the room’s corners and unzipped it fast, moving to the shared dresser. Sure nobody was home but she wanted to get out of there fast, she pulled open her drawer that held her clothes and picked up multiple shirts and pants at once, frantically throwing them inside. She dropped the bag onto the ground and pulled off her gloves and armor, tossing them into her bag. She pulled out the remaining clothes from her drawer and threw the beige colored shirt over her head, pushing her arms through it’s short sleeves, she reached down grabbing the pair of olive green pants and put them on in a hurry too. It hadn’t been that long since she and Cal had last seen each other but she realized she missed his and BD-1′s company. It then occurred to her how lonely she used to feel-despite living with six other people. She picked up her bag again and took it to the room’s small closet, pulling on the drawstring light switch that lit the closet. It’s light was faint and came after a few short flickers but it didn’t matter, there were only three jackets in the closet. Latts Razzi’s lime feathered coat that she wore to parties, Lola’s (made up character) black coat that was lined with aeien silk and y/n’s plain brown leather jacket that two small pockets on the outside and two huge pockets on the inside of it. y/n pulled her jacket down from where it hung, putting it on along with the utility belt that she had been wearing with her armor. Her bag was hanging from her shoulder again and she slipped her lightsaber into her jacket’s (inside ) pocket before turning off the closet’s light and going back to the living room. The living room had a large chest against a wall with a few blankets and pillows stacked on top of it, she pushed them off, opening the chest to reveal various weaponry. She took two of the smaller knives, a whip cord and her blaster rifle along with extra ammo and what was left of the ion grenades, she also took one of the stun guns and put it in her other pocket before heading back to the front door. She was half way there when she heard heavy footsteps and voices coming from the other side. That’s not good. She thought backing up quickly and she slipped into the closest room, hiding under a bed-which happened to belong to Jeremy. Now she could hear the voices clearly. 

“She’s probably looking for that jedi...” She heard a female voice say lazily-Lola. “I would too if I were her, how embarrassing-I mean he was stunned and he got away? What a wimp!”

“Don’t talk about her like that, he’s a jedi after all.” That voice belonged to Jeremy, “besides...” his footsteps were getting closer now. “it’s not like her to be gone for so long, I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“Calm down, lover boy. She’s fine, probably more than fine if you ask me...” Jeremy came through the door and y/n watched as he walked over to his bed, putting what was probably his helmet onto it. “what do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing...” Lola responded casually sounding bored. 

“Lola, what?” Jeremy asked again. 

“well, the girl’s been talking in her sleep for the last three or four days-drives me insane-anyway...she’s always talking about some guy, keeps saying his name over and over.”

“What?” Jeremy asked turning around, and Lola’s feet were visible now as she entered the room slowly. 

“Yeah...it’s always the same thing like ‘I’m sorry Cal!’” She mocked pretending to sound sad, “ or “’I’m so happy I found you!’ Once she even said ‘you’re the best thing that’s happened to me blah blah blah’-couldn’t really tell the rest. It is sooo annoying. Every night I swear. Soon she’s gonna be confessing her love, maybe she’ll even leave you-”

“You’re lying.” Jeremy practically snarled.

“Oh honey, trust me. I’m not. But if I’m right, and she leaves you for some loser...I’m always here.” She laughed lightly leaving the room and after a moment she called back, “Hey Jeremy, looks like I was right.”

“What are you talking about now?” Jeremy called back, and y/n could practically hear the eye roll that was included.

“Your girl’s stuff is all gone.”

“What?” Jeremy bolted out of the room and his footsteps faded.

“I came to get my jacket and hers is gone, so is all of her other clothes...no note.” y/n took this opportunity to crawl out from under the bed, and she climbed out of the window. She headed towards     

(3 days later)

y/n walked besides Cal and BD-1 through the thickest part of Zeffo’s forest. It had been three days now since they had been reunited and his crew’s ship was close to being completely fixed, it was supposed to be done later that afternoon. “We’re almost to the point where you should head back.” y/n told the jedi as she fished her gloves from her belt. 

“It’s fine, the village isn’t until another mile.” He protested, wanting to stay with her. 

She smiled, shaking her head “always so stubborn.”

“I should probably meet up with my friends anyway.“ Cal told her, “we’re leaving tonight anyway...“ Then a silence fell over the two. Sure Cal was being hunted down and it was only a matter of time before someone from her crew discovered his whereabouts, but the past few days y/n had with Cal had been the best ones she’d ever experienced since her jedi days. “You know.“ Cal said, stopping in his tracks, “you can come with me.“

“What?“ She asked the boy, dropping her gloves because of the sudden suggestion. 

“I mean it.“ He told her, bending over and reaching for her gloves.

“Cal it’s a nice thought but I can’t, what would I tell my crew? I’m a bounty hunter-“

“You don’t have to tell them anything, you can sneak away. My friends would love to have you!“ y/n smiled at the thought of joining his small anti-Galactic Empire party and took a deep breath. She thought of Jeremy and what he’d think if she just vanished, would he even care? After all although she wouldn’t like to admit it, she was more of a possession to him than a person. “Ok.“ She sighed, “I’ll go with you, but I have some stuff back at my crew’s place.“

Cal smiled the brightest smile she had seen in awhile “that’s fine, I can go with you.” He beamed, and BD-1 trilled happily at the fact that y/n would be joining their team. 

“No, that’s too risky. I’ll go alone, I'll be there in...say thirty minutes.“ Cal nodded in agreement and they were both off on their way.

The walk to where y/n and her bounty hunter “friends” lived wasn’t too long. She moved quietly peering into a small window located at the front of the house-where you could spot the living room area. Normally nobody really was home due to looking for another job, but she needed to be sure she was alone. And from what it seemed, she was alone. She sighed in relief going in through the front door and hurrying to the room that she shared with the two other girls that were part of the crew. She didn’t have many possessions, given that with their line of work they were almost constantly moving around. y/n picked up her brown leather bag that sat in one of the room’s corners and unzipped it fast, moving to the shared dresser. Sure nobody was home but she wanted to get out of there fast, she pulled open her drawer that held her clothes and picked up multiple shirts and pants at once, frantically throwing them inside. She dropped the bag onto the ground and pulled off her gloves and armor, tossing them into her bag. She pulled out the remaining clothes from her drawer and threw the beige colored shirt over her head, pushing her arms through it’s short sleeves, she reached down grabbing the pair of olive green pants and put them on in a hurry too. It hadn’t been that long since she and Cal had last seen each other but she realized she missed his and BD-1′s company. It then occurred to her how lonely she used to feel-despite living with six other people. She picked up her bag again and took it to the room’s small closet, pulling on the drawstring light switch that lit the closet. It’s light was faint and came after a few short flickers but it didn’t matter, there were only three jackets in the closet. Latts Razzi’s lime feathered coat that she wore to parties, Lola’s (made up character) black coat that was lined with aeien silk and y/n’s plain brown leather jacket that two small pockets on the outside and two huge pockets on the inside of it. y/n pulled her jacket down from where it hung, putting it on along with the utility belt that she had been wearing with her armor. Her bag was hanging from her shoulder again and she slipped her lightsaber into her jacket’s (inside ) pocket before turning off the closet’s light and going back to the living room. The living room had a large chest against a wall with a few blankets and pillows stacked on top of it, she pushed them off, opening the chest to reveal various weaponry. She took two of the smaller knives, a whip cord and her blaster rifle along with extra ammo and what was left of the ion grenades, she also took one of the stun guns and put it in her other pocket before heading back to the front door. She was half way there when she heard heavy footsteps and voices coming from the other side. That’s not good. She thought backing up quickly and she slipped into the closest room, hiding under a bed-which happened to belong to Jeremy. Now she could hear the voices clearly. 

“She’s probably looking for that jedi...” She heard a female voice say lazily-Lola. “I would too if I were her, how embarrassing-I mean he was stunned and he got away? What a wimp!”

“Don’t talk about her like that, he’s a jedi after all.” That voice belonged to Jeremy, “besides...” his footsteps were getting closer now. “it’s not like her to be gone for so long, I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“Calm down, lover boy. She’s fine, probably more than fine if you ask me...” Jeremy came through the door and y/n watched as he walked over to his bed, putting what was probably his helmet onto it. “what do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing...” Lola responded casually sounding bored. 

“Lola, what?” Jeremy asked again. 

“well, the girl’s been talking in her sleep for the last three or four days-drives me insane-anyway...she’s always talking about some guy, keeps saying his name over and over.”

“What?” Jeremy asked turning around, and Lola’s feet were visible now as she entered the room slowly. 

“Yeah...it’s always the same thing like ‘I’m sorry Cal!’” She mocked pretending to sound sad, “ or “’I’m so happy I found you!’ Once she even said ‘you’re the best thing that’s happened to me blah blah blah’-couldn’t really tell the rest. It is sooo annoying. Every night I swear. Soon she’s gonna be confessing her love, maybe she’ll even leave you-”

“You’re lying.” Jeremy practically snarled.

“Oh honey, trust me. I’m not. But if I’m right, and she leaves you for some loser...I’m always here.” She laughed lightly leaving the room and after a moment she called back, “Hey Jeremy, looks like I was right.”

“What are you talking about now?” Jeremy called back, and y/n could practically hear the eye roll that was included.

“Your girl’s stuff is all gone.”

“What?” Jeremy bolted out of the room and his footsteps faded.

“I came to get my jacket and hers is gone, so is all of her other clothes...no note.” y/n took this opportunity to quickly push her bag out from under the bed and crawl out, without looking back she climbed out of the window. She headed towards the shop where Cal would be waiting with his crew. 

 “you’re here!” Was the first thing she heard Cal say as she approached the shop. 

“You’re not supposed to be out in the open!” She whisper yelled. 

He smiled at her concern, “it’s alright there’s nobody here anyway.” 

y/n  sighed with uncertainty, “you’re a risk taker I see.” 

He shrugged, “so the mantis should be ready for takeoff in about ten minutes or so.” But he noticed how y/n seemed to be a little off “are you ok? You’re...still sure that you want to come right?”

“Yes, I’m certain.” She quickly clarified, “I just...I almost got caught leaving and now Lola and Jeremy know that I left.”

“Jeremy was you’re boyfriend?” He asked remembering the stories that y/n had told him. She nodded. “and you’re afraid that he’ll find you here..with me?” Another nod as the girl stared at the ground.

“If he found out about everything-if he even saw me with you he’d freak out especially now that he knows I’m leaving.” She explained, “and I didn’t even realize how crazy he is and how bad my decisions have been until you came back and I actually thought that I was in love with him, I didn’t even realize how controlling he was-.” 

“It’s ok.” Cal reassured her, putting his hands on her shoulders, “in a little bit we’ll be out of here and you won’t ever see him again.” 

y/n shook her head smiling up at the boy timidly. “Thank you.” She told him, wrapping her arms around her friend’s torso. “I feel like you’re literally saving me.”

“Well I am a jedi.” Cal joked, hugging her back, “come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” So she followed him inside feeling hopeful. 

But what neither of them noticed was that someone was watching nearby with narrowed eyes. They looked back from y/n’s face, to Cal’s, to the lightsaber hanging from his belt in disgust. “That treacherous little filth.” Lola snared from the shadows, and she turned around back into the direction of her home, “just wait until the others hear about this.”   

[doyousmellpopcorn]

Chapter 4 In Which Kanan Somehow Gets Deaged, and Shows Ezra the True Meaning of Chaotic

Sabine left the impromptu meeting with a frown on her face. Nothing was really resolved and the only things the crew seemed to find were more things they needed to explain to Caleb. Like how he wasn't in the same time era that he thought he was in. But for now, the crew agreed that they would try and see when the opportunity came up.

From what she knew from Ezra, Ahsoka, and her own personal experience, Caleb was hyperactive and didn't stay focused for long. He liked to rush into things and took things that most people would take seriously as a joke. Like, live bombs. He also seemed like a prankster from what he said about Cal. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen him in a while.

"Hey, Zeb." The Lasat turned around and faced Sabine.

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen Caleb?" Zeb thought for a moment.

"Nah. I-" A shout rang out from Ezra's room, followed by footsteps. Sabine and Zeb stared at each other for a second before running towards Ezra's room.

When they got there, they were treated with the sight of a very grouchy boy who was completely covered in sand. To add insult to the injury, Caleb and Chopper were on the floor laughing at him. Ezra glared at the two of them.

"What happened- never mind." Ahsoka ran into the hallway before catching sight of the scene in front of her.

"Caleb!" Hera started to scold the padawan, who didn't look in the least remorseful. Something about the kid's laughter was infectious and Sabine had to suppress a ridiculous grin that threatened to burst onto her face. Zeb beside her was also fighting a losing battle to the mirth as well.

"Caleb Dume! You are so dead when I get my hands on you!" Ezra nearly yelled at the padawan.

"You might have to take a sonic first! No one wants sand all over the ship!" Caleb cheerfully retorted before scampering off in the middle of Hera's lecture.

"Was he always like this?" Hera asked Ahsoka, who looked bemused.

"Oh yes. He was a terror, along with his friend Cal Kestis. You should be glad that Cal isn't here either. Although Cal was known to be the initial prankster, Caleb was a force to be reckoned with." Hera groaned.

"Great."

"I don't think he does pranks if he's unprovoked though." Ezra pouted.

"Yeah, but why me?" Sabine thought for a second.

"Maybe Chopper suggested you." Ezra paled considerably.

"We left Caleb and Chopper together!" Zeb stopped grinning.

"I have concerns; but where did he get the sand?" Everyone looked at the gritty stuff all over Ezra.

"That actually is a good question. Can Jedi teleport items or something?"

"No we cannot," Ahsoka told everyone. Hera stared at the sand.

"Ezra, go clean up and come back out again. I don't know where Caleb got the sand, but we'll ask him.

"We could actually just ask Chopper where Caleb got the sand," Ahsoka suggested. Hera shrugged.

"Sure. Ezra, go take a shower now. You're getting sand everywhere. We'll ask Chopper." Ezra shrugged and went to do what Hera said.

"Now. Chopper. Where did Caleb get the sand?" The droid blatted rudely at the Lasat.

"So, to put it without the curses, you had sand in the storage closet and donated it to prank Ezra." Hera glared at the unrepentant droid.

"Why would you have a jar of sand in the closet though?" Sabine asked. Chopper began to beep again.

"Do you realize how unreasonable that sounds? Why would you collect sand just because?" Hera demanded of the droid.

"Hi again!" Caleb chirped from behind Sabine who did NOT jump. She didn't. Don't listen to Zeb, Hera, Caleb, and Chopper, Ezra. Because she did NOT jump at the sudden appearance of that little monster Caleb.

"Why are you here?" Hera arched a brow at him.

"I wanted to check what you all are doing. Where's blueberry?"

"Blueberry?" Spluttered Zeb. Sabine laughed.

"He's in the shower. By the way, where did you get the sand?" Caleb looked over at Chopper, who was shrugging at him.

"I got it from Chopper, who said he got it from Lothal. He collected it to prank someone, but he needed someone to set it up for him." Hera, Sabine, and Zeb glared at Chopper at that. The droid blatted at Caleb, who shrugged back at the droid.

"Chopper! Don't corrupt Caleb!" Hera scolded the droid, who was still unrepentant. ~

Ezra walked out a few minutes later to see Hera and Zeb carrying Chopper away while Sabine was laughing. Caleb was busy telling Chopper to Rest in Peace. Chopper was blatting something about Caleb being too honest about everything. Ahsoka had mysteriously vanished. Ezra turned around and walked back inside.

Now he knew how Kanan felt most of the time.

[arkaniist]

Tell us about your loot.

my loot!! 💗 all told i spent $300 😱 but i'm happy with what i got. :3

the new FO deluxe figurine set (more like the kylo and pals set) was an exciting grab. as was first edition black series tros rey! she was the last one. i wanted to grab kylo and second sister as well, but he was gone and idk if they ever had her... still, i will be picking up SL kylo ren + cal kestis and second sister at some point soon.

a patch set and one of the blind pack patch pieces... i got coruscant! i was gonna buy a bunch of them but they were limited to one per person. 😱 collecting the rest is gonna be a challenge.

serious collector shit here, coin sets. 😂 the cashier asked me if i'd been to galaxy's edge ('opening weekend!!!!' 'omg did u love it' 'YES!') and then at this point asked me if i was like... a serious collector. she asked what kind of things i collect and i was like, uhhh don't say 'anything with kylo/hux/phasma on it--' i went general with 'toys, comics, pins, all sorts of things' instead and sounded probably as normal as a person spending that much money on sw merch could sound. phew.

THE COMFIEST SW HOODIE EVER. it's so big and fluffy and warm and KYLO!!! 💗 my only regret is now i have to choose between this and the heruniverse phasma jacket every time i go out. 🥺 tough choice. i need a hux jacket of some kind to complete the set. the FO officer's uniform i bought at galaxy's edge doesn't count, it's not all sexy black silk like his is.

and then the three free lithographs they threw in for the first 50 people. and that's it! pretty successful, imo! my first one. next time i know to take the day off and show up at opening hours instead of waiting till i get off work. 😄

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (12)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: Editing and formatting this on the mobile app is straight up HORRIBLE. I know it’s an old thing now to know that the mobile app is not recommendable for content creation, but hey I’m making do with what I can. Also, I’ve already posted this chapter yesterday on AO3, it only delayed because like I keep saying, editing on the app is horrible.

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions | Additional tags: Jeddah

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 | Previous: Part 11 | Next: Part 13 | Masterlist

12 of ?

Cal ran as fast as his legs can carry him until he got to a significant distance away from the bridge.

His next problem was finding his way back to the Mantis, but that’s besides the point. He took shelter in an extension of the temple, to catch his breath, but eventually the toll takes on his body. All of the sudden, the exact wave of emotions when he saw you came back to him. He still couldn’t believe it, he simply can’t, not after believing for so long that you were alive.

Pressing his back against the cold, stone walls, he slides down and reduces into a curled up ball; not even covering his eyes with his hands stopped the tears from overflowing. They spilled through the spaces between his fingers, the edges of his palms, and trickled down on his forearms. His heart ached as he sobbed. Of all things, why did this had to happen to him? And of all people to deliver him the worst of news, why did it have to be you?

“I can’t believe it…” he sobbed, his breath shuddering as he exhaled.

“Bee… Bee, trill, chirp!” BD-1 urged the boy to stand up and find their way out before you find them.

Cal sniffled and struggled to bring himself up to his feet. This was much worse a battle than the duel that he just had with you.

“You’re right, BD,” he concurred. “Come on…”

The boy was awfully quiet during their trek out of the temple cave. If BD chirped, he’d be received with silence, or perhaps the closest the bot can come to a reply is an out-of-the-moment “Huh?” and a weak, indifferent hum. Eventually, he gave up until they found their way out.

End of the road for Cal and BD-1.

Both of them peer on the drop at the edge of Cal’s boots. The sunlight pierced through the cracks on the cave’s walls and ceiling, revealing a body of water. The redhead youngster wagered it would be twenty feet between the rock he’s standing on and the water. He took a deep breath and dived in.

A literal splash of cold water all over him and he’s still having it rough in accepting what you have become. He swam forward, until he could find dry land; when he did, he climbed up and shook off the water from his clothes and boots.

“Cere, do you read?”

“Cal, I read. What’s going on? Are you still in the temple?”

“Yeah, I am, but I’m trying to find another way out.”

“What’s happened?”

“Uh… Um, there was a… a cave in.”

“Are you alright?”

Cere won’t take Cal’s simple “Yeah” for an answer. Even from that single word, she heard how unusually warbly he sounded, his own voice betrayed him and she wanted in on it as to why he sounds odd--but of course, she won’t force the boy. The conversation abruptly ended from Cal’s line as he continued on to find his way out of the cave.

“I think there’s our light at the end of the tunnel,”

His exit was one of many from that temple cave. A different exit could’ve led to another place. In Cal’s case, he ended up in the south end of the mesa; a narrow ridge, wide enough for any species except a Hutt to tread on, wrapped around the wall. Cal hugs the wall, facing the open space, with his arms splayed and pressed against the hot rock baked by the sun, then shimmied until he could find a wider path.

Cal has already come around the corner, he can already spot the city and the Mantis—the dorsal fin poking out of the mesa—so he continued to shimmy the ridge until he could find someplace to safely land. Not long after, he reaches a rockwall where he can make the rocks sticking out of it as handholds. He struggled to scale it, as the heaviness of his body was making it harder for him; despite coming out of the duel unscathed, the manifestations in his mind was affecting his body. He exerted more effort, he worked up a sweat in climbing the remaining height and the Mantis was a sight for his puffy, sore eyes.

“There’s the Mantis!”

The boy comes sprinting towards the vessel, hot air filling his lungs, warming his throat, and the sweltering humidity pelting his skin. He’d love a shower when he gets there.

The entry ramp unfurled when its censors spotted him, he didn’t wait for it to completely fold out, he jumped in the first second he could plant his feet on the ramp. This is the second time he eagerly barged into the Mantis, surprising everyone—except for Cere, who was already expecting an explanation from the young Jedi Knight.

“There’s something you all need to know,”

The entire crew clustered around Cere and Cal. The older female Jedi hardened herself, a way of preparing herself for what she’s about to hear, and she inhaled deeply when Cal opened his mouth.

“[Y/N] is alive… and she’s an Inquisitor now!”

Much like Cal the first time, the Mantis crew couldn’t believe it. BD-1 got Cal’s back when he flashed a data scan of you in the middle of your duel when you were unaware of the little droid. That is when the crew finally took Cal’s word for it. Cere stared at the holographic image of you long and hard, she questions if her eyes are playing a trick on her… but no, they aren’t. It really is you.

Examining your image more intently, she notices the changes in your face even though they were subtle. The shadows under your eyes and the redness along its rims, she asks BD to enlarge the image, when the droid obliged she spotted bruises on your neck and jugular. All of her findings suggest the exact same theory in her head: torture.

“Cal, did you notice that she had bruises and small wounds on her neck and face?”

“W-Well… Not really. I was still kinda overwhelmed back there when I saw her again,” said the boy quite somberly.

“Hmm,” the older woman hummed. “Because there are typical wounds you’d get when you’re kept in an Imperial torture chair. I had the same wounds, except [Y/N]’s are more prominent. It could only mean they’d kept her there longer than they usually would to a prisoner, especially if it were Jedi.”

The thought of you strapped into the torture chair for a much longer period of time pained Cal more. He could only imagine the agonizing screams and cries that would have escaped your throat for every time they pulled the switch to turn the current on. Suddenly, he felt woozy and his footing failed; Merrin and Cere caught him in time.

“Your poor thing, you need to rest,” uttered Merrin.

“Yeah, I… I just need to clean myself up and some time alone.”

He politely shook himself off of the ladies’ collective hold of him and headed for the bath. The water rained on his head and then trickled all over his entire body, bringing the sandy gunk along into the drain; the shower felt like a prison cell, theres’ a gloomy peace in this glass box, but ironically so, that’s what he exactly needed to think it all through.

Cal gently thumped his head against the wall, still letting the water run on him while doing bare minimum scrubbing—droplets fall from his strong jaw, the tip of his nose and lips, he’d blink away the water that clung on his eyelashes. He closes his eyes until the hissy sound of the running water had dulled in his earshot.

How he had wished he would have snuck a single grab of your saber, your hand, or your cheek just to see what you’ve been through. He’d willingly go through the nightmares that reside in your head, playing in every waking second which fueled your anger and hate. Then the words struck his mind.

“You abandoned me, Cal!”

“That sounded like an accusation,” he pondered. His nails cracked as he scratched the glass wall. “But you don’t really mean that, do you?”

Eventually, the tears mixed in with the shower’s water that it’s hard to tell. But Cal’s shoulders shook and then relaxed as he begins to weep again.

“I missed you so much… if only I could’ve told you that, to let you know. Even if it didn’t make you turn back, to come back to me. I just wanted to make sure you don’t forget...”

Even through the fogged glass, BD-1 can see Cal’s silhouette succumbing to the floor and curling up, he can hear the boy sobbing and incoherent muttering altogether. There’s nothing much the little one can do, as well, except to sit by and trill sad chirps. 

—-

Meanwhile, back in the temple cave, you didn’t waste your energy in trying to dislodge the boulder in the archway. Like Cal’s exit, you had your own where you stood. You followed the path and led to a tunnel; you’re let out to what ought to be a canyon, though you have no idea where you exactly are.

Referring to your gauntlet, the small screen indicated the signature of your TIE Fighter on the map grid. From where you stand, it’s almost a seven-mile trek and you’re thirsty and hungry. Luckily, your TIE had a function that allows you to “hail” it and let it come to you even without a pilot.

“Maybe a sightseeing trip wouldn’t hurt my objective,” you mused.

Your TIE Fighter comes flying over the canyons until it converged to your signal. 

The ship hovered over your head, sending the coattails of your armor's top flapping like wild in the thrusters' hot wind. You didn't mind, you simply hopped into the cockpit and flew to the nearby Imperial garrison. As the distance shrinks, you ponder if you'll have any luck in this endeavor.

The Imperial scanners have picked up the signature of your ship.

"This is TIE Fighter TZX-2527, requesting permission to dock,"

From the other end, the operators recognize your voice. One of them previewed the flat image of your ship on their screen and turned their heads to the deck commander.

"Sir, this is an Inquisitor's TIE Fighter!"

A sudden chill pelted his arms despite wearing a full-bodied uniform. He gulped the nervous lump lodged in the center of his throat many time before he could swallow smoothly again. He turned to the cadet manning the computers who previewed your TIE Fighter and gave him the go signal to let you through.

"Your ship's been verified, Inquisitor, you may begin your landing phase in Bay 5."

"Excellent. I'll be on my way,"

The transmission ends and you make your way to the Imperial docking bay, you promptly prepped your TIE into its landing cycle and daintily put it on the ground. A pair of Stormtroopers escorted you into the main hold of the fortification. After a ten-minute walk from the landing bay to the command hall, you meet the person in charge peering at the dusty nothingness through the window.

He was an aging man—the lines drawn over his face proved that he had served before the Empire, his lowered brow gave off a permanent scowl over a pair of tired, old eyes. He turns around as he hears the door open.

"Inquisitor," he greets with a curt bow, he doesn't turn away from you.

"Captain Foros," you greet, though the coldness in your tone overpowers the politeness. "I should thank you for letting me stay here."

"Aye, no one would want to stay out there, where it's wretchedly sweltering,"

You joined his side, standing in front of the same window where he observes the land, it later dawned on him that you're so young—and yet you carried yourself in a mature regard in your stride and posture.

Slowly turning your head from the window to his face, you smile at his comment—regardless if he doesn't see it.

"I'm pleased we have something to agree on,"

Getting past the niceties and icebreakers, a minute lapsed before you began asking him. He walked with you to the holotable in the center of the room.

"Has there been any word about a Jedi running around in this planet?"

"As a matter of fact, Inquisitor, we have been receiving relayed reports in the neighboring town northwest of here. That's Sector J8 in the grid."

"I see," you hummed, intrigued. "What kind of reports have you been hearing from the northwestern town?"

The old captain sighed, preparing mental bullet list of Cal's activities in the main town of Jeddah; there's too much to mention and elaborate in detail, so he pressed a button on the holotable to present a series of surveillance images taken in different areas of the town. 

Your eyes wandered from one frame to another. All of the cameras captured a clear picture of the boy—whether he idled in crowded public areas, running, or swinging his saber at Stormtroopers.

Yep, that's him. You tell yourself.

"Well, it started out with sightings which eventually caused some suspicion. When the troops close in on him, he tends to leave a trail of their bodies in his wake, and then he'll bolt away until he's out of sight!"

"Ahh," you purred, smiling again with satisfaction underneath that mask. "Yes. I know this particular Jedi."

You suddenly turned quiet. Captain Foros turned to you, confused after detecting the rather amused tone in your voice, despite the mood of the situation that he just narrated. He angled his head with a thoughtful expression as he tried to read you.

There was something else that you sense about that town. You stand still in front of the holotable, concentrating everything on that town, there was an unspeakable urge within you that prompted you to march back to the window and peer at the quiet, unbothered town.

Looks like your to-do list just got longer.

"Captain?"

He stiffens upon the call of his rank.

"I'm going to need a speeder. I think I'll give the quaint town a little field visit."

"Right away, Inquisitor!"

Two snaps of his fingers prompted an officer to scramble from their post and march towards him. He sternly gave the order to prepare an elite-type speeder bike for you. He obediently responded, saluted to the captain before turning away to proceed with the given task. Within half an hour, you were escorted by one of the officers to the hangar.

You hopped on and revved up the engine. The bike sped out of the docking bay, with your eyes set out for that town.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (9)

Chapter 9: A Sense of Familiarity | 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 am way overdue, so so so sorry about this!! ;;A;; I had to recover from yesterday’s COVID-19 testing because I have EXTREME needle phobia, I passed out minutes after being needled. On the bright side, I came out negative of the virus, yaaay!! ^^ Hope you all are staying safe and healthy 💞 Friendly reminder to wash your hands ;3

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​

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 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

Dawn broke and the badlands met the sun’s rays.

The desert animals poke out of their rustic homes to bask in the first few minutes of sunrise—from the tiniest lizard living inside an animal skull to the apex predators emerging out of their dens.

Cal decided to venture out into the badlands as well, it occurred to him that he had only seen the forest and the town—whose name he learned to be Diitana, thanks to BD-1’s diligent scanning from yesterday; he gave the badlands a try.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,”

“Beeee!”

The Jedi was careful to avoid the eyes of the hulking beast with a pair of great horns on its head and another on the end of its muzzle, a thin mane wrapped around its leather neck, the skin was color ranges from stone gray to a shade of burgundy that matches with the color of the sand or the unique breed of grass in the region.

These giants eagerly protected their turf and grazed at the same time, letting the females and the young play around within their circle. BD-1 leaned forward and forward, until his legs were at the edge of Cal’s armor straps.

“I know you want a scan, BD, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to get close. Those horns look sharp,”

Cal and BD-1 continued their trek, the Jedi had his eyes on the island across the great lake. He squinted his eyes, used his hand as a visor over his brows, and surveyed the distance if it was safe or not. Choosing to walk would take longer as he would go around the road until he reaches the island, swimming wouldn’t be so bad. The water crashed and pulled at his feet, he cautiously dipped his boots into the water to get a feel of the depth; he went further from the shore, then the shallows, and eventually paddled his way through the water.

It wasn’t a long swim, neither was it a short one. He simply kept his eyes on the objective.

The Jedi climbed out of the water and found himself in the island situated in the center of the lake—whose channels branched out and turned into more rivers—the animals that resided there were mere medium-sized vermin, perhaps contesting with the size of the Bog Rats back home in Bogano or the Scazz in Zeffo, but these local animal were completely docile.

“Alright then, I guess you could scan these since it’s safer here… I hope,”

“Wooo-wooop!”

The tiny white droid hopped out of Cal’s shoulders while the boy wrung the water off of his shirt and shook his legs dry. Meanwhile, little BD-1 skittered left and right, ahead and back, flashing his blue scanner lights at anything that won’t jump and attack him for the sake of standing too close. He even managed to scan a skull of the same beast back in the mainland.

“Oh, so that big thing’s called the Uroda,”

“Beee-woop!”

“Yeah, I agree. Best we take a look around, you go on ahead and scan around—just be careful,”

With Cal’s permission, BD-1 scanned whatever and wherever he pleases; meanwhile, the boy explored the islet which was significantly big for one, nevertheless it fascinated him. Something lured Cal and so he brushed his way through a patch of tall reeds, leading to the other side; when he pushed down the grass that was blocking his view, it was too little too late for him to realize that it’s become his undoing.

A Haxion Brood hunter was idling on the other side of the island. He heard the rustling of the reeds and anticipated the Jedi—for all that hunter knew, it could have been an animal, yet he was full of conviction that it was Cal. Before the boy brushed away the grass that draped him for protection, the hunter flicked the safety of his rifle and rested it on his shoulder…

Until Cal found him—or the other way around.

“There ye is, Umah!” the hunter snarled and squeezed the trigger, Cal dodged the shot by an eyelash.

The hunter was accompanied by another human with cybernetic limbs, apparently named Umah, only this time the second one donned a jetpack—making him extremely inconvenient for the boy.

“Aww, too easy to kill, innit, Pavo?!” the second bounty hunter, a rough-voiced female, barked.

With the push of a button, Umah went flying off the ground with her jetpack—literally having the high ground and the advantage, her flight lessened Cal’s odds of winning this skirmish, which somewhat boosted her confidence that she and Pavo would get the bounty for the Jedi.

“We’re not done yet!” Pavo snarled and tossed a flashbomb, he cloaked his eyes with his gauntlet while Umah flew a bit farther from the blast radius.

The din of the skirmish didn’t reach far in the expanse of the badlands, but the faintest sound was enough to alert the right person.

“Beee?” ID-3 inquired after noticing that Jidné paused from gathering desert plants.

“Something doesn’t feel right, ID-3,”

Jidné and ID-3 stared at one another, but she was listening carefully for the sound. The distant echoing of a barrage of blasters made her ears prick up. She lousily stuffed the bushel of plants she’s collected so far and, out of instinct—or perhaps, of impulse—she followed the din of the battle. Jidné hurried to the direction of where the sound was coming from, with every step she took, the louder the sound.

I’m close! I’m in the right track! The fleet-footed bounty hunter thought to herself, leaving plumes of dust at her footsteps’ wake.

It got louder, every minute. Battle grunts could be heard, explosions of bombs popped in her ears, and the humming of a lightsaber sung hollowly in the empty trenches. She’s now close by the island, she kept her momentum was perfectly constant—instead of swimming, she made stepping stones out of the logs and the rocks sticking out of the water until she’s set foot on the island. She arrived unnoticed.

As Jidné ran, she spotted Umah floating about in her jetpack. There was an inclining boulder at the edge of the island, she brandished her lightsaber as she ran over the rock to gain height in order to reach Umah. While the enemy was unaware, Jidné severed the wing of the jetpack, causing it to immediately malfunction and plummet Umah hard to the dust.

Cal was too focused on Pavo that he didn’t noticed that Umah had been incapacitated until her face skidded across the shore.

“UMAH!!!” a startled Pavo exclaimed.

“Mind if I even out the odds?” Jidné blurted, landing flat on the balls of her feet after her jump attack succeeded.

“Jidné! Am I glad to see you!” Cal quipped back.

Umah brought herself up to her feet, even underneath the overhanging rim of her helmet and the mask that covered half of her face—it doesn’t need much thinking to figure out that her fury against Jidné is through the roof, along with her fatally wounded pride of having her face shoved into the sand.

This display of assertion didn’t intimidate the younger bounty hunter, frankly, it excited her more. With Umah’s eyes glued to her, Cal could keep himself busy with the Pavo fellow.

“I’M GOING TO GUT YOU OPEN AND STICK A FLASHBANG IN YOUR INSIDES!!!” Umah roared.

“Oooh!” Jidné mockingly shuddered at the threat, and then gripped tight around her lightsaber hilt. “That’s imaginative of you—even for a crook!”

With the bounty hunter seething with blinding, reckless rage, Jidné has the upper hand. Umah ditched the jetpack and produced a vibroblade from the holster clipped to her belt; upon seeing the weapon, the Jedi girl positioned herself into a defensive stance—anticipating for Umah to come charging towards her to avenge her damaged ego.

While Jidné’s engaged in melee with Umah, switching between kicks and slashes of the lightsaber; Cal is attempting to get a jab at Pavo, who kept himself safe behind his compact shield that folds into his gauntlet. It was tricky for Cal, but he managed to make his own luck by using his Force abilities. The redheaded Jedi anticipated the moment Pavo was open and vulnerable without his shield, and then inflicted Force slow on the enemy—when that tactic was successful, he didn’t spare a second in dawdling and dashed towards the hunter with an overhead strike.

“Come here, you little shit! I’ll have that pretty face delivered to Sorc!!”

“You can see me through that damn roof on your head, you wench?!”

The taunt did it. Umah raises her vibroblade, both hands on the hilt, and makes a running attack on Jidné; the young girl managed to evade the incoming attack, Umah quickly recovered and twirled around to afford another hit—but Jidné denied it in the blink of an eye. The vibroblade’s glow flickered out for a second against the blinding purple gleam of Jidné’s saber.

Jidné pulled away and immediately followed through with a diagonal slash to finish off Umah. The crook’s body thudded lifelessly on the sand, Jidné’s head jerked to the sound of Cal’s cry of pain—Pavo had knocked him down hard using the shield. Thinking fast, she lobbed her saber at his foot—the only body part unprotected from the shield—and gashed his shin, then mustering all her Force energy, Jidné sent out a powerful push against Pavo and sent him into the water.

Both Jedi caught their breaths, Jidné walked up to Cal and was the one to offer him a helping hand this time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he takes her hand and she pulled him up his feet. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I owe you one after all, from those Bashiji cats the other day,”

“Right,” he nodded, recalling his rescue for her in the jungle.

He absentmindedly fixated his eyes on the girl’s hand and then to her alternately—he recalls the faint ripple of the Force that he sensed the day he landed into Ombari, and that ripple grew until it became stronger the moment he discovered Jidné. There was something unusually warm about her—aside from the fact that she was also once a Padawan and a survivor—Cal simply found it easy to talk to her and that she was easy to be around, despite being someone who carried a similar burden.

At first he thought it was a fluke or a trick, but today otherwise proved it to him. He and Jidné had an uncanny knack of finding each other in the right time—even if they never expected it.

“Um, Cal…”

“Yeah?”

“You can let go of my hand now, pretty sure you can stand without a support,” Jidné weakly chuckled, eyeing on their conjoined hands and then shifting her look back to Cal.

Cal slightly tilted his chin up, his fingers slowly unfurled and his palm slipped away from Jidné’s grasp. He looked away to shield his reddening face from Jidné’s eyes. The boy did all sorts of fiddling across his person just to shake off the awkwardness.

“What brings you here in the badlands?” he initiated, trying to divert her attention from his blushing.

“I was collecting some desert plants and herbs. A vendor in Diitana told me she’d give coin to whoever can bring them to her. And you?”

“Just wanted to take a better look at Ombari,”

Cal walked up to the edge of the island, scooped up a handful of water to splash it on his face; he combed his fiery scarlet locks with his damp fingers as he turned to face Jidné—from her view, the sun perfectly tinged its rays on the sheen of the top of his head, it was like watching fire dance softly. Goosebumps pelted her skin, she could feel them underneath the sleeves of her beige jacket, and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up—her hand impulsively reached for her nape and rubbed it to calm her nerves.

Jidné pensively surveyed the island, “Not bad for an itinerary.”

The two Jedi laughed at the lighthearted joke, they were so caught up with their giggling that they didn’t realize Pavo was still alive. The crook swam upwards, as quietly as possible and caught a glimpse of Cal’s leg; as Pavo neared the surface, his right cybernetic arm clawed its way out of the water and hooked around Cal’s ankle—it all happened within a flash that neither Jedi was able to react against it in time.

“CAL!!” Jidné shrieked, she jumped into the water seconds after Cal was pulled in.

Pavo had his arm wrapped around Cal’s neck, the boy kicked wildly as bubbles foamed out of his nose and mouth while trying to loosen the crook’s arm around his neck. In the blur of the lake’s water, Jidné paddled as fast as she can, apparently Pavo was armed with little turbines on the ankles of his boots to speed up his swimming and she only had her breather on her.

She swam as quickly as she could, her shoulder joints were beginning to ache but she didn’t care, her legs were gradually cramping from the forced paddling until she got closer to them; she pulled in Pavo, who still had Cal in a chokehold, and Cal suddenly headbutted Pavo in the middle of the pull—allowing himself to break free at least a few inches away from the bounty hunter—and then Jidné ignited her saber through Pavo’s chest. The hum of the saber was muffled by the bubbling of the water and she gave a slight push of the body away from her and Cal.

The dead bounty hunter’s arms opened and limped in the water, Cal paddled towards Jidné and gawked at the glowing purple beam—his jade eyes were wide in bewilderment, and then air bubbled plumed out of his mouth, forgetting that he needed to breathe. They both swam to the surface, but Pavo had pulled in Cal so deep that he’s lost most of his breath trying to break free—his hands desperately searched for the breather in his pocket until he found it and attached it to his mouth. His lungs were relieved to finally suck in some air and he was able to keep up with Jidné. Both Jedi sprang out of the water and clutched onto the sand, too tired and heaving to pull themselves up, they dragged their bodies to the shore as they greedily panted for air whilst their droids skittered off of their shoulders to shake off the water that seeped into their bodies.

“How…” Cal gasped. “Your lightsaber… How did you…”

“It’s… ahh…” Jidné heaved, her chest rising and falling. “A modification I made… a long time ago. My master had it too.”

A series of breathing was their only exchange after that.

“Can’t yours work underwater?” she added.

“Nah… doesn’t…”

“I can help you with that,”

Cal turned his head to the side, examining Jidné’s face riddled with water droplets trickling and drawing from her cheekbones and forehead. Tiny rainbows reflected on the beads of water on her skin thanks to the sunlight; he had a glimpse of the silhouette of her profile—the slight parting of her lips, the defined bridge of her nose and the curving scar across her cheekbone.

“You will?”

“Yeah, it’ll come in handy the next time something like that happens to you,” and then Jidné chuckled before uttering her follow-up. “And I won’t be around to save your ass if that happens.”

“Well, I’d rather have you around,”

Jidné shifted her head to her left side, she finds Cal facing up in the sky with his eyes closed as he continues to catch his breath—but his breathing has calmed, the slow rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest disturbed the fabric of his drenched jacket—she spots a little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth that faces her.

Her heart pounded wildly again, so much so that she had to clutch her chest to calm it down—she felt like it would rip through her shirt if it beats any faster. Emotions flooded and then conflicted her with the objective in mind. She bit her lip as she zoned out, staring back at the blue sky hoping to find enlightenment to this confusion—to her dismay, there were only white plumes of clouds hanging above their heads, no answers, no clarity to these feelings that have muddled her ever since she found her sweet, redheaded target.

“Think you could help me modify it today?” asked Cal.

“No problem, but you’re gonna need another crystal,”

“You mean, another kyber crystal?”

Jidné looks at the Cal straight in the eye to prove that she’s not joking and then nodded.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make a cutting trip to Ilum then,”

Cal groaned, Jidné sensed the disdain in his voice. Going there must feel like a chore—a very cold chore.

“Would you like to come with?” he added.

Taken aback by the invitation, her eyes shifted around, quickly thinking of an alternative. She wouldn’t want to leave the Scarab one planet away—she simply couldn’t leave her baby in the middle of nowhere! Even if she activated the cloaking device on the ship, there’s no guarantee that scavengers or animals would bump into it sooner while she’s gone.

“O-Oh, I don’t know, Cal…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna push it on you. We could still meet after I come back from Ilum, then you can help me modify it!”

“Are you always this… optimistic?”

He lightly chuckled, “Well, you’re the second person to say so.”

Eventually, the two arrived at a stalemate whether or not Jidné comes along with him to Ilum. She told him that she couldn’t leave her ship behind—that was hiding amongst the trenches in the badlands—he understood her side, and so there was a compromise.

Jidné ended up being left behind in Ombari.

“Just promise me one thing,”

“What’s that?”

He took both of her hands into his, and gave it a quick shake before speaking.

“Swear you’d wait for me?”

Her heart jumped. She blinked which prompted Cal to reiterate, constantly assuring her that Ombari was close by Ilum’s system.

“I promise it won’t take much time, so long as you promise me you’d wait for me and you’ll help me,”

His eager, emerald eyes shone brightly right in front of Jidné’s dark, earthen eyes. She can feel his fingers caging her knuckles tighter by the second, she never thought she’d find herself lost in his eyes and that kind, innocent smile. She could feel her heart sinking down and joining her butterfly-filled stomach.

She sighed and pursed her lips, “Okay. I’ll see you soon, then.”

His hands gently clutched her arms and exclaimed happily in reaction to her reply. As a matter of fact, it startled her, but she’s still too prideful to admit that it felt nice. Once again, she felt genuinely wanted or needed—not because they want her to get rid of a target, but for honest reasons such as Cal’s. It almost made her tear up, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way.

Jidné almost didn’t want Cal to let go—he didn’t want to admit it, rather he was too bashful to say so—but he did, she sensed the hesitation in his withdrawal and compensated with an awkward bidding of goodbye.

Cal searched for a way out of the island, and then he turned to Jidné as if asking for a hint. She pointed at the same path she took when she got to the island.

“Just a hop, skip, and a jump there, ginger.”

“Thanks, Jidné.”

“You’re welcome… Cal.”

The young bounty hunter watched the boy cross the logs and stepping stones across the river until he landed on the other side and then disappeared out of the badlands.

Oh… Oh joy… the voice in her head groaned.

“Trill, beee!” ID-3 sang in high-pitched notes.

“Ha-ha, real cute, ID-3,”

ID-3 argued with his owner, further insinuating that Jidné is starting to get “attached” to Cal. The droid went as far as using the “Attachments are forbidden to the Jedi” card.

“Whoa, whoa, since when did you pick that up, lil’ guy!?”

“Beee-beep, chirp!”

“Have you been scanning my journals?”

The guilty droid lowed a soft chirp, Jidné chuckled and patted his head, reassuring him that she’s not angry with him, but could’ve just asked her to lay out all her manifests for him to expand his databank. Meanwhile, the conflict within her continues to swirl like a storm—her feelings battled with her sense of duty. As she watched Cal’s figure shrink the farther he goes, all she could think about is the warmth that she gets from him during their interactions and it always drew a little smile out of her.

[capricornus-rex]

A Test of Wills (6)

Requested by Anon: Prompt:

What about...Cal x reader fic, getting stuck on Jakku because the Mantis needs repairs?

Cal Kestis x Reader

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 7 - End | Masterlist

6 of ?

The spectators and contestants alike dispersed in the tent. You jumped out of the ring, rushing towards Cal and taking him by the other side as you helped Rani in supporting him.

“Careful,” you mutter under your breath.

The three of you hobbled out of the tent. You took the backseat of the landspeeder, resting Cal’s head on your lap as Rani drove back to her house in Cratertown.

The zooming of the landspeeder was the only sound in the darkness of the sand dunes. You clutched Cal’s hand, you were thinking of trying to Force heal him but you were short on Life Force yourself. Sobs cracked between your labored breaths as you uttered “I’m sorry” over and over to him.

You bring his hand to your cheek, feeling for the warmth that you still hoped to have remained in his body. Cal was beaten badly, but he was a fighter. He will pull through.

“Please, Rani,” you begged. “How much farther?”

“Not far now, [y/n],” she reassured.

Rani oversped and severed the actual travel time by ten minutes. The time bought was enough to prepare Cal for first-aid. Your arrival alerted Rani’s comrades.

“Come and help me get them out. They’re both wounded!” Rani barked.

She dismounted the speeder, her comrades assisted her in carrying Cal out of the vehicle. You quickly ran to his side and supported him by his side again until you got to your cottage. Carefully settling him down on the bed, Rani was quick to deliver you the things you needed as you unbuckled his armor and unzipped his jumpsuit top.

“[y/n], you’re hurt too, you need to get yourself patched up,”

“I’m fine…” you grumbled.

You fumbled as you reached for the materials. You wrung a soaked towel with shaky hands and wiped off the sweat and dried blood on Cal’s face—revealing open cuts and bruises. You dried his face with another towel and fished some Bacta strips from your belt pouch, patching up his wounds. His hands needed washing too, so you soak and then wrung the towel again to remove all the gunk that his knuckles have collected. The whites of his knuckles have purpled as well, the climbing claws have dug deep into his skin enough to make swollen indentions too.

“[y/n]…” Rani uttered in a pleading tone.

Your complete disregard for your own well-being bothered your friend. Rani found the right timing for her to barge in and break your concentration in patching up Cal.

“Listen, it’s not your fault,”

You jerked your head to Rani. The half of her face illuminated by the candles in the cottage, but even in the dimness of the room, her teal eyes had a pleading look in them—she has seen that look in your face, discovering that you haven’t yet outgrown your tendency to blame yourself when people do things on your behalf.

“I was supposed to be the one fighting, Rani,” you spoke in a hushed tone, continuing to fix Cal’s wounds while speaking to Rani. “I never told him to fight in my stead.”

“It was his choice,”

“A choice that led him to get hurt because of me!” you hissed.

Your outburst caused Rani to jump a bit, she saw a tear roll down your eye; yet she remained calm and understanding your situation. She watched how you carefully wiped away the blood and sweat off of Cal’s face and hands, putting those Bacta strips with a doctor-like precision, and the way you look at him.

BD-1 offered a stim for you to use on Cal. You calmed your trembling hands before pricking the needle into his skin. As the liquid exited the syringe, you wait for the Bacta to flow in his bloodstreams.

Your fingers raked away the drooping locks from his hairline. Sheets of light spilled through the cracks and holes of the cottage’s stone roof and then illuminated portions of his face and body.

“If he were awake, he wouldn’t have blamed you; rather, he would’ve told you get yourself patched up.”

You wiped away the tears in your eyes with your sleeve, continued applying the cool Bacta gel on Cal’s bruises and wiping the beads of sweat dotting his neck.

“I’ll fix myself later, once I’m finished with Cal,”

“Okay… I’ll fetch some more supplies for you,”

Rani promptly stood up and headed for the doorway. You stopped her dead in her tracks with an abrupt but firm “Wait.”

She turned around to face you, exhaustion etched in the contours of your cheeks and jaws, you slowly closed your eyes and gave a short bow.

“Thank you… for everything.”

Rani smiled back tenderly, “You’re welcome, my friend.”

You repaid the smile before she left. You turn back around to Cal.

“Rest well, my love,” you whisper in his ear before kissing his forehead.

The next morning, Cal woke up feeling sore all over. He discovers his hands covered in Bacta strips. BD-1 was the first thing he saw when he woke. Sitting up strained his body and just made the aches worse.

“Hey buddy,” he groaned. “Where… Where’s [y/n]?”

“Trill! Boo-woop!”

“She… she patched me up?”

BD-1 trilled in confirmation.

“Where is she now?”

“She’s back at Niima Outpost to gather her boon,” Rani bursts in.

“Her boon?”

“Yep. She won your fight that you fought for her. Crazy, I know. Are you two always like this?”

“Not all the time,” he shifts on the bed until his feet were on the ground.

He swerved as soon as he stood flat on his feet, his ankles were still weak from last night’s exhaustion and his shoulders weighed like sacks of Bantha bones.

“Whoa now, easy there, pal.”

“Take me to her,”

“You two hard-heads really are made for each other,” Rani sighed, seeing that there was no way to convince him to stay until you get back. “Come on, I’ll rev up my speeder.”

Cal hobbled out of bed and into Rani’s speeder.