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As Merrin gets a datapad off a shelf, BD-1 comes scampering into the room, letting out a series of beeps and whistling sounds.
“I still do not understand you,” she informs the little droid.
“Fweeeep,” BD-1 says sadly, looking down at the ground and scuffing its tiny foot around.
(It’s ridiculous how alive this little robot is—are all droids like this?
She doesn’t think so—the other droids she’d met had all been very dour and robotic.
Then again, all the other droids she’s met so far have been Imperial droids, and given the way the Empire is in general, she doubts that they would encourage any personality quirks in their droids.
It’s strange though—she can’t reach through her magicks to feel anything from BD-1, but there it is, bouncing around, and looking like some kind of very tiny and terribly cute rancor.
…no, scratch that, there was never a rancor this cute before.)
“I could teach you Binary if you want?” Cal offers, coming out of his quarters to sit in the lounge. “It’s not too difficult!”
Merrin gives him a considering look as BD-1 jumps up and down and beeps, presumably out of excitement.
“Didn’t you say that the planet you grew up on was practically a junkyard filled with droids?” she asks doubtfully. “This is the first droid that I have ever met.”
“Even if you’re just talking to BD a lot, you should pick it up pretty quickly!” Cal reassures her, petting BD-1’s head. “And BD likes to talk!”
“Like both you and your pilot, I guess,” Merrin sighs deliberately. “Yay, more talking.”
“Or, me and BD can talk, and you can pick things up along the way!” Cal continues, undeterred and picking up BD-1 to set in his lap. “We can start with the basics! Hi BD!”
BD-1 lets out a series of chirps and then a trill, and Cal translates, “The first part is ‘hello,’ and the second part is my name.”
“How do you know it’s your name?” Merrin asks, sitting down by Cal and leaning forward.
“It kind of translates to—Jedi, friend, red hair, scrapper,” Cal says with a grin.
“Then what does he call me?” Merrin asks, looking over at BD-1.
BD-1 lets out a different trill and squeak, and Cal translates, “Basically means Nightsister, friend, spooky.”
Merrin considers this and nods. “That works. Could you repeat those two again?”
BD-1 eagerly lets out the trills and squeaks until Merrin thinks she can distinguish between all of them. “Alright, I think I understand all that. What’s next?”
“How about ‘good-bye’ and ‘thank you’?” Cal suggests and BD-1 lets out some chirps and beeps that Merrin assumes are the two phrases.
“Maybe some more useful phrases like ‘look out’ and ‘over there’?” Merrin suggests.
Cal’s eyebrows fly up, but BD-1 spins around and lets out a loud screech and then a series of beeps, and Greez comes hurtling over from the kitchen to the cockpit. “What’s going on? What did you see?”
Cal blinks as BD-1 lets out a series of chirps that sounds a little like laughter. “Uh—sorry Greez, we were just teaching Merrin some Binary.”
Greez places one hand on his chest and staggers out of the cockpit. “Geez, make it less realistic then, can you? I thought those Imps had found us! Or some kind of space worm…”
“Do space worms really exist? I thought those were made up,” Merrin says doubtfully. “How do they breathe in space?”
“Oh, they’re real alright,” Cere says, coming out of the cockpit after adjusting a few of the monitors. “Rare, but they manage to survive by coming out of holes in asteroids and devouring ships.”
Greez shudders, and all four of his arms wave around. “Shhhh, stop talking about them! It’s definitely bad luck—you don’t want one to suddenly appear, do you?”
“I think it might be interesting,” Merrin says, only half-joking.
BD-1 lets out a beep and leaps onto Merrin’s shoulder eagerly.
Cal laughs and shakes his head. “You’re both such thrill-seekers—you should come with me on some of the missions, Merrin, if you want to see some creepy creatures.”
“That would be fun,” Merrin nods.
(So far, while Cal has been running around picking up holocron clues, she’s been mostly teleporting around and seeing the sights that way.
Sometimes she does see him flipping around and jumping on walls, the same way he had done on Dathomir, but this always seemed like his quest, and she hadn’t even really been sure if it was a good idea to begin with.
Now that the holocron is gone and Cal is running around trying to help the various Rebel cells against the Empire, Merrin wouldn’t mind helping with that.
Plus, Cal had just asked her, which is a nice feeling.)
BD-1 lets out some more beeps and jumps up and down with a twirl.
“He’s very excited,” Cal translates, reaching out a hand that BD-1 jumps into. “Although that’s probably pretty obvious—and he has hopes that you’ll encourage me to have more ‘fun,’ by which I think he means getting tossed around in the air and only barely managing to land on some kind of solid ground.”
“He fit all that in those beeps?” Merrin raises an eyebrow.
“Binary packs a lot of meaning into a few sounds—it depends a lot on pitch and duration,” Cal says, “You’ll get it soon!”
And it’s true that after running around on a few missions with both Cal and BD-1, Merrin’s Binary improves by leaps and bounds, but as does her understanding of what Jedi are really like.
And what Jedi are really like is crazy.
“I know you have some kind of Jedi power to slow things down, but that last move with you whirling through those gears was insane,” Merrin informs Cal as they rest in a bunker after managing to dodge stormtroopers and giant gears and hammers to get to the top.
Cal shrugs, while BD-1 makes a booping sound that Merrin thinks still means he thinks it’s fun. “Well, we can’t all teleport, sadly enough—I’m still in one piece so far!”
BD-1 lets out a toodle, and Cal taps BD-1 lightly on the head. “A lot of credit does need to go to you BD, but also—you love all the weird gears and hammers crashing down! You’d do it all over again if you could!”
BD-1 lets out an affirmative beep, and Merrin just shakes her head. “Your previous Jedi master gave you many strange habits,” she informs the droid.
BD-1 projects a hologram of Eno Cordova onto the wall, snippets of him explaining to BD-1 what all the strange Zeffo puzzles were and also him using the ziplines to get around Zeffo, doing nearly some of the same flips that she has seen Cal perform.
“You Jedi really like to spin and flip around,” Merrin comments to Cal.
“It’s part of our Jedi training and our connection to the Force!” Cal says with a grin. “Definitely came in handy on Bracca—and you know, during the War. And now.”
“You said the Jedi were usually peacekeepers,” Merrin says, “Before—did all of you just wander the galaxy, looking for wrongs to right?”
Cal nods. “At least based on what they taught us about Jedi history—I’ll admit, I didn’t listen as much as I should have. Always thought that I could always look it up in the Archives later if I ever needed to, but—well. If the Empire hasn’t destroyed those, then they’ve taken it.”
“What does the Empire not take?” Merrin asks grimly, looking out across the lands.
“Yeah,” Cal sighs, looking down at the ground.
“I also thought that in the future, I could always look to Mother for guidance,” Merrin continues, “The Empire took her too, in a way—no matter what I remember, it can’t replace her knowledge, or the knowledge of the rest of my sisters.”
“You’re pretty great though,” Cal says gently, looking at her. “I heard you talking with Cere about magick—I think it’s pretty helpful for her! Ever since the Fortress Inquisitorius, she chose against giving in to the Dark Side, but it was all pretty traumatic regardless…”
Merrin tilts her head. “We don’t really believe in the Dark Side and Light Side like you Jedi do, but it’s good that my Nightsister teachings are helping Cere.”
Cal mirrors her head tilt. “If you don’t mind—if it’s a secret, you definitely don’t have to tell me anything—but what are the Nightsisters’ teaching about the Force if you don’t believe in the Light Side or Dark Side?”
“It’s not a secret, I’m happy to tell you if you’re interested,” Merrin says, sitting up straight and rearranging her robes. “We see using magick like swimming—the deeper you go, the more treasures the depths may hold, but also, the less you can survive without fundamentally changing yourself. The best practice is to try and channel the power through you, not letting too much of yourself getting intertwined with it.”
Cal nods slowly. “The Jedi have a similar philosophy—there is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”
Merrin purses her lips and nods slowly. “That is something like what we believed, but—some Nightsisters believe in the Winged Goddess of Life, and some believe in the Fanged God of Death. Everything though, was for the clan.”
“What do you believe in?” Cal asks.
“I believe in both,” Merrin says with a shrug. “Life and death are two sides of the same coin, and one cannot come without the other—it’s a natural cycle. And on Dathomir, one often quickly followed the other.”
“Dathomir is strong in the Dark Side—although I don’t know if it’s deadly because of that, or the other way around. And as for Malicos Falling—maybe it was despair,” Cal muses. “It’s hard to be the lone survivor…”
“And yet you seemed to have retained who you were throughout all of it,” Merrin points out.
Cal gives her a wry twist of the mouth. “I don’t know—I definitely just tried to be invisible on Bracca. Not stand out in any way—Prauf always was trying to get me to dream big and live a little, but—I couldn’t. Not then.”
“He would be happy to see you now though,” Merrin says, gesturing at the ruined Imperial equipment strewn around them.
Cal sighs, looking around, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He would be—I just wish that he were here to see it.”
(They’ve lost so much—
And she’s happy that they managed to find each other, even through all the pain, but they can’t forget the people that they have lost either.
She never really knows what to say in this situation—
No one else was left after the Nightsister massacre, and there had been no sympathy between her and the Nightbrothers.
She probably can’t go wrong copying Greez and Cere though?
…no, she can definitely go wrong when copying Greez, but Cere should be right.)
“…I’m sorry,” she says, going forward to pat Cal’s back the way she’d seen Cere do before, and quickly drawing her hand back.
(Cal runs so warm—
Maybe it’s because he’s been running around so much.
It’s nice though.)
“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” Cal says, smiling wanly at her before looking away and saying quietly, “Even the person who killed him—it wasn’t entirely her choice either.”
Merrin isn’t sure she agrees with the concept either because besides an accident, killing someone is always a choice, and she says carefully, “…wasn’t it the inquisitor who discovered you?”
“Yes,” Cal nods, then lets out a tiny snort. “Your expression—you’re judging me so hard right now.”
“I would just think that someone who killed your best friend would invite more vitriol from you,” Merrin shrugs.
“I still don’t like her, but I saw everything she went through when I touched her lightsaber, and I think near the end—I think Cere was getting through to her. If that—shadow hadn’t arrived, I think maybe she could have come back to the Light Side,” Cal says, rubbing his hands together.
(That shadow—
Merrin had never felt anything like that before.
Even in the swamps of Dathomir, where death and danger lurked around every corner, there had never been such an emptiness there that she couldn’t fathom.)
“I got the chance to be the Jedi Knight that my master would have wanted me to be, and I think Trilla should have had that opportunity too,” Cal says, drawing his knees up to his chest.
“Trilla…that was her name?” Merrin asks.
Cal nods. “She was dealt a hard hand. Sometimes I wonder—if our positions had been switched, if Master Tapal had picked her to be his padawan instead—I don’t know. Maybe Master Tapal could have survived? And she would be fine right now…”
“But you wouldn’t be,” Merrin points out, feeling a chill.
(Bright-eyed, smiling Cal in that dark, half-mad shadow’s place?
It seemed all so wrong.)
“Yeah,” Cal acknowledges. “I had a vision when I retrieved the holocron—I wouldn’t have been any better, I think.”
“And your Jedi visions are so accurate?” Merrin asks, raising an eyebrow. “On Dathomir, we generally advise people to ignore things they think they see.”
Cal chuckles. “Good to know since I also saw stuff on Dathomir—but I think this was a warning from the Zeffo. You were right—if we gathered up the Force-sensitive younglings, the Empire would have come after them eventually. And as soon as they threatened their lives—I would have done anything to save them. It was not a good path to go down.”
“…It was a good dream,” Merrin offers, propping her hand on her cheek. “You would have been a good teacher.”
(She can imagine Cal cheerfully teaching a bunch of kids, but she can also imagine how fast the Empire could make him fold if they had captured those children.
She doesn’t know if their mission to stop the Empire will succeed any time soon—it seems as though the Empire is everywhere these days, but for Cal’s sake, she hopes that eventually they can drive them away, and Cal can have his peaceful little school.
…maybe she could also recruit some of them as Nightsisters?
They were already breaking so many norms, why not a few more?)
“Thanks,” Cal smiles at her softly before his expression grows more somber again. “But still—I don’t know. There are too many things that could have happened…”
“I also thought about that on Dathomir,” Merrin acknowledges. “What if I had been the one outside instead of Ilyana that fateful day? But it does no good—bodies still have to prepared for burial, food still has to be gathered, and defenses still have to be manned against the Gorgara. Life went on, and we have to follow suit.”
Cal nods, a crooked smile appearing on his face. “…well, at least you won’t have to worry about the Gorgara anymore?”
“It would be rather surprising for it to suddenly swoop in from hyperspace,” Merrin replies, raising an eyebrow.
Cal laughs, sitting back as BD-1 toodles something incomprehensible. “Well, yeah—but, uh—is the Gorgara sacred to you or anything?”
“Only in the sense that if we don’t respect its power, it can eat us,” Merrin says, blinking. “Why?”
Cal rubs the back of his head. “Well—I sort of—killed it.”
Merrin stares at Cal in blank silence.
(What?
That’s impossible—
But then again, many of the things Cal has done has seemed impossible at first.
Perhaps it is a Jedi trait, or maybe it’s just something unique to Cal himself.)
“The Gorgara? Giant leathery-winged creature with a snout, sharp teeth, and triangular ears?” Merrin asks, just to be sure.
Cal nods and says earnestly, “I didn’t mean to—but it attacked me, and I had to defend myself—and I thought I just managed to drive it away, but then it chased after me again while I was climbing a cliff, and collapsed it, so I had to leap onto it a few times—and it crashed into a cliff later and died.”
Merrin has to use a few moments to find some words to say. “…when one of the Nightsisters wished to give the Nightbrothers an impossible task, she would tell him to go slay the Gorgara.”
“Makes sense, it definitely was not fun,” Cal sighs before poking BD-1. “Except for this little guy—he was having a blast while we were getting tossed through the air, right, buddy?”
BD-1 lets out an excitable chirp before projecting what looks like a recording of that battle for Merrin to see.
(What Merrin is leaving out is that this was usually the impossible task set out for a Nightbrother who wished to become a mate of a Nightsister.
She had always found the idea of having to mate with a Nightbrother grotesque, so she had always planned to use that task if it really came down to it.
Cal though—
Oddly enough, the idea of Cal touching her does not fill her with disgust.
At least then she’d have an excuse to touch his hair—ever since she had first seen him leaping through Dathomir’s ruins, even as she had been filled with rage, she had also marveled at his red hair.
Was it as soft as it looked? Would it be warm?
Fanciful thoughts that she thought had died with Ilyana, but here they are again.
…but this isn’t a good time for them—while she’s adjusting to the crew of the Mantis, a lot of her staying on this ship is contingent on Cal’s goodwill and trust in her.
If she damaged that in any way—
Well, she doesn’t think Cal would immediately kick her out, but it would certainly make things awkward.
Best not to poke that nest of spiders until later.)
Cal’s brow has furrowed, and he chews his lip. “I—is it bad? I’m really sorry…”
“No, it’s fine,” Merrin says quickly. “It’s good that you killed it—some of the Nightbrothers might be upset to have less death-defying stunts to try, but overall, one less scourge of the skies is always appreciated. I’m impressed.”
Cal actually turns slightly pink, making his freckles even more obvious (and slightly adorable). “Uh—well that’s good! Glad that I didn’t destroy something sacred…”
Merrin sees some movement in the distance and decides that that’s enough heart-to-heart talk for one day (it feels both warm and slightly anxiety-inducing—much like Cal himself), so she just nods and stands up. “We’d better get going before more of those stormtroopers arrive.”
“Good call,” Cal nods, scanning out in the distance and also standing up, taking his lightsaber in his hand before throwing her a smile. “Ready to make these Imps have a really bad day?”
“We’ll bring them hell,” Merrin promises before vanishing in a flash of green magick.
--
As she goes on more and more missions with Cal, the smoother their cooperation gets. She teleports back and forth, taking out what enemies she can, and following the sound of Cal’s lightsaber and BD-1’s beeping.
She’s also gotten better at understanding BD-1 these days, and even if they couldn’t exactly hold conversations, she can at least understand the gist of what he is saying during fights.
During supply runs though is something different.
BD-1 lets out a series of beeps and burbles and does a little dance on top of the crate of medical supplies and food they’re hauling into the Mantis.
“You’re excited about the…medical supplies?” Merrin guesses, stacking up another box.
BD-1 shakes his head and scampers over to the side of one of the boxes to jab at some datasticks.
“These?” Merrin asks, picking them up and examining them. “New tasty data for you?”
“Ooo, we finally managed to pick up some music!” Cal says, walking over and glancing at the datasticks. “BD, which one are your favorites?”
BD-1 lets out a series of clicks and beeps.
“Ah, yeah, you haven’t tried them yet, that makes sense,” Cal nods.
Merrin fans out the datasticks towards BD-1. “Pick one,” she suggests.
BD-1 immediately goes toward the most colorful one, and Merrin playfully makes it vanish and then reappear on top of BD-1’s head. BD-1 blinks, let out a high-pitched squeak, dances in place, then twirls around, tossing the datastick up in the air with a toss of his head, before catching it in sticking it in his body.
Immediately, peppy high-pitched music fills the space, and BD-1 lets out some happy beeps, dancing to the beat.
“How…bright,” Merrin struggles to say.
Cal laughs and boops BD-1’s bobbing head. “Suits you BD! But let me check out some of these other datasticks, I wonder if they have anything that is more my speed or yours…what do you like to listen to, Merrin?”
“Chants mostly. Some nice hallikset when it’s dusk,” Merrin says, musing over the kinds of music they had on Dathomir.
“If Cere teaches me how to play the hallikset, then we can be a three-person hallikset band!” Cal says eagerly.
Cere passing by laughs, and Greez calls out from inside the ship, “Seems like too much of a good thing, kid.”
“I don’t think so—like it might take some work getting harmonized and everything, but I’m sure we can figure it out,” Cal says, looking between Cere and Merrin. “What do you guys think?”
“I think you’ll have to take a few more lessons before we have to all worry about harmonizing together,” Cere says tactfully.
“Yes, when you can stop copying Cere and sound better than a lothcat screeching, we can talk then,” Merrin says.
“Ouch,” Cal puts a hand to his heart. “Should I stop practicing in the ship then?”
“It’s the only way you will get better, so sacrifices must be made,” Merrin sighs.
“One day, I’m going to come up with something amazing to serenade you with, and then you’ll realize that I was a budding halikset genius all along,” Cal grins at her.
(…Cal serenading her could be a very pleasant thing—
Or it could be hilarious.
Both of these are fine options.)
Cere just raises an eyebrow at both of them and says after a pause, “…well, we all look forward to that. Who knows, Cal, maybe you’ll be the first holonet Jedi singer.”
“The culmination of all my hopes and dreams,” Cal jokes with a rueful shrug, then brightens as he notices another datastick among the few in the box. “Oh! Great, I love this band, I’ve been looking for this for a while…”
He sticks it into a battered music player that he had managed to scrounge up and repair a couple of runs ago, and immediately his face breaks out in a wide grin as he starts to bob his head.
“What music are you listening to?” Merrin asks, motioning at Cal’s earphones.
“You want to listen?” Cal asks eagerly, taking off the earphones and offering them to her.
Merrin takes them over and listens to a series of drums, electric strings, and guttural singing and chanting in a language she doesn’t understand. She nods along with the beat for a bit, before commenting, “…it’s a little like some of our chants.”
“Is it?” Cal asks, leaning forward. “I’d love to hear some of your Nightsister chants on the hallikset then! Only if you want to though, of course.”
“It might spook Greez,” Merrin says, shooting a smirk at their pilot, busy stirring a stew on the stove. “You never know what you might call up with the Chant of Resurrection…”
Greez stiffens, glaring at them. “Can’t you chant something less likely to bring up ghosts or skeletons or something? Like maybe a nice Chant of Good Food or something…”
“We have a Chant of Good Hunting, but that’s more likely to bring all sorts of wild beasts incoming,” Merrin says placidly. “If you think the ship can handle it, I’m perfectly willing to play it.”
Greez narrows his eyes at her before turning to Cal. “She’s joking, right?”
Cal glances at her and shrugs. “Could go either way.”
Greez throws his two of his hands up and continues stirring the stew, muttering to himself, “As if we didn’t have enough problems with weird scuttling sounds and things going missing on the ship, now we might have giant space beasts? Other pilots don’t have to deal with this, I swear…”
Cal just grins at Greez before turning to Merrin again. “I’d love to hear it sometime—but maybe not in the ship just so we don’t give Greez a heart attack.”
Merrin inclines her head in agreement as BD-1 lets out a series of squeaks, and Cere immediately says, without even looking up from her datapad, “No, don’t play it on Kashyyk either—it doesn’t seem like a good idea to draw out some of the bigger spiders or whatever else is there. Weren’t you already complaining about the creepy vines?”
“Yeah, even the plant life on Kashyyk is pretty deadly, but BD-1 has a point that maybe we can draw deadly beasts towards any stormtroopers there?” Cal asks, glancing over at Merrin. “The trick would be making sure that they don’t attack us first…”
“I can teleport away,” Merrin points out. “You’ll have to be far away ahead of time.”
“But then I can’t hear the song?” Cal asks and actually pouts a little.
Merrin chuckles, propping her cheek on her hand (Cal is so cute sometimes). “Maybe BD-1 can hide somewhere and record it?”
BD-1 lets out an excited squeal and then beeps in affirmation, his head swinging between Merrin and Cal.
“That’d be great, thanks buddy!” Cal pats BD-1 on the head. “Make sure to not get eaten or damaged or anything though!”
BD-1 lets out an indignant squawk, and Merrin says, “I’ll look out for him, don’t worry. And after we try that out, let me listen to more of your music.”
“Sure!” Cal somehow perks up even more, touching the music player fondly. “On Bracca, I only managed to scrounge together a few tapes, but I’ve managed to find some more now—the HU is a great band! I can’t wait for you to listen to more of their stuff!”
“I’m surprised you didn’t lose your taste for them after Ordo Eris,” Cere says, glancing up while raising her eyebrows.
Cal shrugs. “That was actually a bit of a high point of that whole fiasco—the stadium had great acoustics. Even if everything there was trying to kill me—but in the end, it wasn’t that different from Bracca!”
Merrin looks again at Cal. “…you’ve talked a lot about Bracca, but I still can’t imagine it—it was some kind of…downed ship?”
“Basically—it was a ship graveyard,” Cal says, leaning back. “It was basically controlled by the Scrapper Guild, and almost everyone there worked for them salvaging parts off of ships—I think the Empire was angry with them for siding with the Separatists originally though. Conditions were never very good…although to be fair, nowhere the Empire takes over has very good conditions.”
“I hear Coruscant is still nice,” Greez calls out over his shoulder.
Something in both Cere and Cal’s face shutters, and Cere puts down the datapad and says quietly after a moment, “…Coruscant has many layers. I’m sure the senators are living as lavishly and splendidly as they ever have—the ones who fell in line with the Emperor anyway. As for everyone else—the Jedi aren’t there anymore to look after them.”
“Did we during those last years though?” Cal asks glancing at Cere and then looking down at his hands. “I feel like—the war took over everything.”
Cere inclines her head. “A Sith trap—we couldn’t not fight the war, but by fighting, we also lost.”
Merrin glances between them, her brow furrowed.
(She has managed to glean some more information about the entire Clone Wars period through judicious use of the extranet, and questions to both Cere and Cal, but there are still parts that she has difficulty accepting.
All this, a galaxy-spanning war, one that even ultimately touched Dathomir and led to the slaughter of her sisters and most of Cal’s brethren as well—for what?
Ultimate power and control, she assumes, but she finds that in this, the Sith are ultimately as strange as the Jedi to her.
Power and control are useful things, they can protect one’s clan and family—but what family is the Emperor trying to protect? It seemed to all be for himself.
Even Malicos had seemed to want power to build some kind of clan—although ultimately, he had also just wanted everything for himself.
Maybe that’s the Dark Side that the Jedi fear so much.)
“Then you did the best you could,” she says firmly, even as she finds the words paltry and weak in the face of everything. “If there was no way out of the trap—and you had so many wise masters among you—then there is no use looking back in hindsight.”
Cere covers her mouth and glances at BD-1. “My Master saw a vision of the end—but no one believed him. Well, except for Jocasta Nu maybe, but even I—I was off doing my own thing, and I thought the isolation had finally gotten to him. I should have known better—Master Cordova was never happier than in solitude, exploring things and tinkering with droids.”
BD-1 lets out a sad sounding beep and then plays a clip of Eno Cordova telling him about his padawan and how proud he was of her and all she was accomplishing.
“And she has even taken her own padawan now!” Eno Cordova marvels in the hologram. “Time truly does fly…she’ll do well. Even with what’s coming—I know she will manage to be a light in the darkness.”
Cere’s eyes are wet, and she draws in a shuddering breath before reaching out towards Eno Cordova’s hologram before it flickers out.
“…I failed him,” Cere says duly.
“No, you didn’t,” Cal says immediately. “Without you, I would have never gotten off Bracca, and all the people we’ve managed to help would have possibly been lost.”
“If you hadn’t brought Cal to Dathomir, I would still be stuck there with Malicos, stewing in dreams of sorrow and revenge,” Merrin says steadily, spreading her hands out.
Cere glances at both of them, before drawing in another breath, then breathing out more calmly, looking at BD-1 again. “…he would have loved meeting both of you. Mind you—you’d probably get annoyed at him with all his questions—that man never knew when to stop. But still, it would have been amazing for all of you to meet.”
“I would have loved to meet him,” Cal says, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and glancing at BD-1 as well. “Anyone who was your master and who was such a good friend to BD was definitely a good Jedi.”
“The best,” Cere says sadly, looking off into the distance before chuckling, “If also one of the most long-winded if you got him talking about the Zeffo, to the point that he could even put Master Nu to shame…”
Merrin stays quiet, giving the Jedi room in their grief.
(Personally, she doubts that she would have gotten along all that well with Cere’s former master.
He might be more well-intentioned than Malicos, but too many prying questions would probably make her want to at least teleport away.
It’s not like either Cal or Cere asking questions—Cere is genuinely trying to figure out how to use Nightsister magick theories to combat her own Force problems, while Cal seems both sincerely curious and also just wanting to understand Merrin herself better.
From the holograms she’s seen of Eno Cordova, he seems someone who loves knowledge for its own sake—although even he knew his limits on Dathomir, which is more than what she could say for Malicos.
Who knows, perhaps with time, she could have been as fond of him as Cal and Cere were, but it’s a lost dream.)
“Well, he’d be happy to see you guys racing around, exploring planets and weird ruins in his place,” Greez says firmly, bringing the stew over, one of his arms grabbing a coaster to set it on, and his other arms carrying some bowls. “Running into dangerous wildlife, flipping everywhere, collecting seeds—”
“Hey, we bring seeds back for you!” Cal calls out, perking a bit and grinning at Greez.
“And I appreciate it—except for the Bleeding Gut fungus!” Greez says, pointing at the terribly red plant growing in the terrarium and shuddering. “Every time I look at it, I think there’s been a massacre somehow!”
“I think it’s nice, it makes it feel homier,” Merrin says with a straight face. “You’ll have to watch out for when it grows a bit bigger and starts getting a taste for blood though…”
“What?” Greez shoots the Bleeding Gut plant a look of horror before narrowing his eyes at Merrin. “Wait—you’re just trying to scare me again, aren’t you?”
“It’s so fun,” Merrin says agreeably, “But don’t accidentally get a cut on your finger and then stick it in the terrarium.”
Greez shudders and shakes his head, looking at Cal and Cere. “Do all Jedi get involved in messes like this?”
“Maybe not Master Nu…” Cal ponders, glancing over at Cere.
Cere shakes her head. “No one who was such good friends with Master Cordova could be completely as staid as Master Nu seemed—I’m sure there are some wild stories of her in the past. Besides, did you ever try to sneak read any texts you weren’t supposed to at the library? Master Nu didn’t even need her lightsaber; her glares could kill.”
Cal shivers, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t try to sneak into any restricted sections, but the one time I brough food into the library, I think Master Nu even scared my master.”
“Even Master Yoda had to steer clear of Master Nu when she was on a warpath,” Cere sighs.
“But not Master Yaddle!” Greez says, raising a spoon up high in triumph.
Merrin blows on the soup while Cere and Cal both sport odd looks on their faces. “You keep mentioning this Master Yaddle, but I haven’t seen her come up in any of the holoreels I’ve looked through—”
“That’s because you were just looking through Clone War stuff! And besides the ‘Hero with No Fear’ and ‘the Negotiator’ eat up all the airtime, there’s no time left for the small guys like Master Yaddle!” Greez says, all four of his hands now waving around in the air. “Didn’t really hear about her after the Clone Wars started…”
“I think she disappeared around then,” Cere says apologetically. “Maybe even before—I don’t remember seeing her for a while, but I was off-world most of the time as well.”
Greez sighs. “I’m sure if the Dream Team had had Master Yaddle around, they could have turned the tide…”
“Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi were the best team already,” Cal argues, crossing his arms. “They helped win Christophis, they defeated Dooku, and they rescued the Chancellor—”
“And then he turned around and declared himself Emperor!” Greez points out.
“No one knew,” Cere says tiredly. “None of the Council—not even Master Windu or Master Yoda knew.”
“I hope they’re all okay…” Cal says, staring off into the distance. “I saw that Master Windu was marked as deceased, but they’re still looking for Master Yoda, and Master Kenobi is still out there—although I can’t believe Master Skywalker is dead.”
“It goes to show that not all prophecies come true,” Cere says tiredly before shaking her head and looking at Merrin with a wry smile. “You must be bored, Merrin, always hearing our old war stories.”
“Not at all, it’s a good change from Malicos’ stories,” Merrin says simply, lifting up her bowl of soup to drink properly.
(She’s still sorting through Malicos’ stories, trying to determine what were pure lies, what were half-truths, and what were true from a certain point of view.
Maybe the Jedi Order had been doomed from the start—that she couldn’t say, she hasn’t even gotten through the entire Clone Wars history yet.
But she thinks that if Cal and Cere are any indication, the Jedi are meant to serve and to help, throwing light into a frequently cruel and uncaring universe, and inspiring others to do the same.
A mawkish thought, but perhaps that’s what happens when a Nightsister is surrounded by Jedi.)
“What prophecy?” she asks.
Cere waves a hand. “Something about a Chosen One bringing balance to the Force—it was all very vague.”
“Master Skywalker was very powerful though,” Cal points out, “And we’ve all had visions that sometimes come true…”
“Or are sometimes a warning from the Force,” Cere nods. “But I don’t see how that prophecy can come true anymore with Skywalker cut down and gone now.”
“I could raise his corpse maybe?” Merrin suggests, her hands glowing green.
Cere blinks while Cal just says, “If we could find his body that would be an option, but I bet the Emperor burned it.”
“He probably kept it as a creepy trophy, he seems the type,” Greez says dismissively, pointing with two of his hands. “No zombies on my ship though! I barely got the gunk out of the crevices outside the last time you unleashed all your sisters on Cal!”
“When are you going to teach me to fly the ship, Greez?” Merrin asks, leaning forward.
Greez snorts, waving a spoon at her. “Oh, so just because I taught you about engine repair, you think you’re ready to fly a whole ship already now?”
“I think she’d be really good at it,” Cal pitches in, smiling at Merrin. “She’s already gotten so good at cloaking the ship in invisibility that she doesn’t even need to chant that long anymore!”
“There’s a big difference between using some kind of witchy ghosty magic to cloak the ship—although I definitely appreciate it—and piloting the ship! Also, don’t think you vouching for her is going to count for much—I’ll have to be kidnapped by Imps before I let you touch my baby!” Greez shuddered.
“Don’t invite bad luck,” Merrin says sternly, tapping the table with her fingernails.
Greez holds up two of his hands. “Alright, alright—but you still have a long way to go before you get to sit in my chair! It may not be as long as Cal, but you’ve still got to learn the ins and outs of this state-of-the-art machine—”
“State-of-the-art machine that you bought at a huge discount from an interesting character,” Cere cuts in.
“Because I’m savvy like that!” Greez protests, pointing at Cere before waving at both Cal and Merrin. “Learn from me kids, and you two can be making some cold hard credits!”
“As long as you’re not gambling them away…” Cere murmurs.
As Greez and Cere bicker good-naturedly, Cal turns to Merrin and says eagerly, “But back to the original subject—you’ll let me hear some of your chants for me, right?”
“You want me to sing for you, Cal?” Merrin raises an eyebrow.
“As long as you want to and it’s not a secret or something!” Cal says quickly.
(Nightsisters mainly only sang in ritual or occasionally to their loved ones.
Does she love Cal?
She knows she feels more than she should for the Jedi knight, but is it the same as what she felt for Ilyana?
No—Ilyana was an easy love, one where she thought she knew exactly what their life together would be like.
With Cal—she has no idea. Jedi and Nightsisters didn’t even work together before, but here they are, making what feels like a home with Cere and Greez.
Maybe love doesn’t always feel the same way.
Either way, she knows she loves him enough to sing to him.)
“Alright,” she says, nodding.
“Great!” Cal beams at her while BD-1 toodles excitedly.
“Stop flirting and eat your soup before it gets cold,” Greez instructs them.
Cal immediately turns red. “We’re not—um—anyway! What music do you like, Greez?”
“Classics of course!’ Greez replies and launches into a spiel about old classic rock while Cere just looks amused and tips both Cal and Merrin a knowing glance.
(Merrin isn’t sure what Cere thinks she knows, but maybe she’ll manage to figure it out at some point.)
--
The next few missions are rougher—despite their hard work, the Empire keeps gaining ground, and the Rebel Alliance fights hard and sometimes fights dirty, but their numbers are just not there.
And when they go to pick up some new recruits for the Alliance, Cal gets an awful surprise that it’s a clone.
And apparently not just any clone either, General Obi-Wan Kenobi’s personal clone commander.
(Merrin doesn’t have the best impression of this Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He was still alive, but what was he doing? Hiding apparently.
And that was fine for Cal, because Cal had been like twelve when everything had gone down, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was supposed to be a general, wasn’t he?
What was he doing, cowering away when Cal and Cere were on the frontlines?)
For the most part, Commander Cody is fine—he’s quiet and tries to keep to himself as much as he can in the Mantis’ small space. It’s just that he has a haunted look in his eyes every time he looks at Cal or Cere that puts Merrin on edge and makes her want to cast some spell on him.
(If only she knew how to probe minds—she would at least be able to figure out if the clone is on the verge of snapping and trying to kill them all.)
“If you glare at his door anymore, I think you may actually crack him,” Cal comments, sitting next to her on the ship.
Merrin continues to glare at Cody’s door for good measure before turning around to look at Cal. “You nearly had a panic attack when we first picked him up.”
“Yeah,” Cal admits, running a hand through his hair. “It was—I was close to the 13th Battalion back then, you know? I thought we were all friends—we trained together. But then—that day—it all went so wrong. I really don’t know what happened—I still don’t know.”
“…we could ask him,” Merrin says, nodding over to the clone commander’s quarters.
Cal lets out a pained laugh. “Ask him what though? Why did you try to kill General Kenobi? Why do you feel bad enough now to run away from the Empire? Does he even know?”
“It’s a start, isn’t it?” Merrin replies. “And if he doesn’t know—that tells us something too.”
(She still finds the mass betrayal by the clones baffling.
Sure, she could have believed that one or two would easily follow orders to turn on their Jedi, but all of them? When Cal and Cere had both had stories of how unique and individual all of them were?
Something seemed wrong about all that.
Of course, the question was whether this was a clone who would have gladly turned on his Jedi commander anyway—you never knew with people with a lot of power, and apparently this Cody had counted as one of the most high-ranked clones of the War.)
Cal stays silent for a while, staring at Cody’s door, before sighing and standing up. “I guess we may as well since we’re transporting him for the Alliance—they might ask him the same questions, I guess.”
“Don’t bother,” Cody says in a crisp voice, coming out of his quarters and levelling them both a look. “I cannot tell you anything—I chose to fire at General Kenobi then. As for why—it seemed like the right thing at the time, but now—I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right now.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Cal says, standing up. “You—how can you not know?”
“I just don’t,” Cody says, something flickering in his eyes. “I wish I could tell you more, but I—I am still trying to understand what has happened. I’m hoping that someone in the Rebel Alliance might have answers.”
Merrin crosses her arms. “How do we know that you’re not going to reveal the location of the Alliance base to the Empire as soon as we deliver you there?”
“I haven’t informed the Empire about any of you yet, and you’re part of their Most Wanted list,” Cody says in a tired voice.
“Fulcrum vouches for him, so that’ll have to be enough for now,” Cere says, coming up and laying a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “I’ve heard that there’s some other clones who have defected too, so—maybe one of them will know more about what’s going on.”
Cody’s eyes seem to just slightly light up a bit for the first time since they had picked him up. “Can you tell me who?”
Cere shakes her head. “You’ll see when we get there—even I don’t know all the details.”
“Well, they’re brothers, so that’ll be good at least,” Cody says, managing to crack a grin to himself.
Cal and Merrin share a glance, and then Merrin scoops up BD-1 and turns towards the engine room so the two of them could have a more private conversation.
“…I don’t get the sense that he’s lying,” Merrin admits when they’re out of earshot.
“Neither do I,” Cal says, frowning. “I just—I don’t understand. He worked with Master Kenobi for years, so how can he not know why he chose to suddenly shoot him?”
“…could there be something working in the background?” Merrin suggests. “You said they all came from some cloning facility, could they have added something? Something to control them with maybe?”
Cal flinches. “It’s not like they’re droids or something, it’s not that easy to control them—and Cody said he chose—”
“But he doesn’t understand his choice even now,” Merrin points out. “I don’t really know how cloning works, but—they were sold as soldiers, right? Maybe that place added a control mechanism to make sure orders would be followed.”
“They weren’t sold—well. Maybe they were,” Cal runs a hand through his hair, his eyes flicking up. “There was some kind of clone rights bill going through the Senate during the Clone Wars, I remember Master Tapal talking about it. But—why would the Kamioans do that?”
“Because they were paid to? Who was in charge of this entire project anyway? The Jedi?”
Cal rubs his head. “I—we were in command of them, I know, and Master Shaak Ti was overseeing them in Kamino, and I remember someone saying that the Jedi had commissioned them…I don’t know all the details though. The Senate would have sort of been in charge I guess…”
Merrin makes a face (the intricacies of the Galactic Republic escape her still—she supposes it’s better than the Empire, and it must have something going for it if Cere and Cal would like to have it back again, but for the most part, it seems like the most annoying form of rule she has ever seen). “Politics,” she says in the most disparaging tone she can muster up.
Cal lets out a weak laugh at that (success), and says, “Probably the worst thing about the Republic, I guess… Master Tapal used to complain a lot about ‘damn politicians.’ But—I don’t know. Maybe it’s a mystery that some of the other clones have solved?”
“I’m sure they’re pretty motivated to figure out exactly what happened as well,” Merrin agrees. “In the meantime—if you want me to, I can make sure you can’t see him while he’s here.”
Cal glances over towards Cody’s door, and says slowly, “Well—how’s this? When I want you to, I’ll tug on my ear?”
“Because that’s not obvious at all,” Merrin snarks before immediately relenting, “Alright, sure.”
BD-1 hops up onto the table to let out a few trills and jump around a little.
Both of them laugh, and Cal reaches over to affectionately pat BD-1’s head. “Full permission to zap him if he does something shady granted, BD.”
(If Cody really does something shady, Merrin will probably throw him into a wall before BD can even pull out his zapper, but the thought counts.
BD-1 is actually pretty handy with that little zapper of his—Cal says he even managed to distract Darth Vader with that thing, so that’s pretty amazing.
Still, BD is not nearly as wary as he should be, so Merrin has to look out for all of them accordingly.
If only there was a way to read someone’s memories—
Ah, hang on.)
“What if you took his helmet or something and tried to sense something from that?” Merrin suggests.
Cal winces, covering his mouth. “…would he even let me touch that?”
“We could always steal it if he won’t give it,” Merrin says flatly while BD-1 toodles in agreement.
“…I guess I could give it a shot, but if even he doesn’t entirely know what’s going on, I’m not sure how much it would help,” Cal says slowly.
“It’s still worth a shot,” Merrin says. “We’ll never know until we try, right?”
Cal’s eyes grow determined at that, and the next day BD-1 provides a distraction as Merrin levitates Cody’s helmet over to Cal, and Cal grasps it. His eyes go glassy for a moment, and he mouths something, before he snaps out of it and quickly puts the helmet down again.
They sneak off back to Cal’s quarters, and as soon as BD-1 slips through and the door closes, Merrin asks, “Well? Anything?”
Cal’s brow is furrowed. “It’s—strange. His respect and love for Master Kenobi shines through, but at the same time—something about good soldiers following orders.”
Merrin frowns. “Hm. …it couldn’t be a lover’s tiff?”
“Not the impression I got,” Cal replies, shaking his head. “Also—not entirely sure they were like that.”
“Are Jedi usually not allowed to love then?” Merrin asks curiously.
(A question that maybe she is too invested in, but here’s the perfect chance to finally know.)
Cal laughs and shakes his head. “Non-attachment doesn’t mean we can’t love people—Jedi are encouraged to love, really. The idea is that you can’t selfishly love—the kind of love where you can’t let go or accept when the other person is gone.”
“…so, Jedi do not believe in revenge,” Merrin replies.
“We generally don’t,” Cal inclines his head. “Of course, when push comes to shove—it’s hard to always be a good Jedi, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be easy.”
Merrin nods, pondering over Cal’s words. “Then Jedi are allowed to have romances as long as they know when to let people go.”
Cal’s cheeks flush slightly. “Well—uh, yes,” he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. “All types of relationships are fine as long as it isn’t hurting anyone, and you still bow to the will of the Force.”
(Merrin knows that she doesn’t love like that.
If there had been a way to bring Ilyana back, she would have sacrificed any of the Nightbrothers in a heartbeat, and if she loses Cal, Cere, or even BD-1 and Greez now, she will rain hell down on whoever had the temerity to take them away from her.
After all, she is not a Jedi, she is a Nightsister, and magick fueled by emotions is more dangerous, but it’s also more effective, and there’s ways to come back even after going too deep.
Although if Cal and the rest of the Mantis crew were gone, would she even want to come back—
Dangerous thoughts, she shouldn’t think them, they’d invite trouble.
Almost as dangerous as daydreaming about Cal in a romantic context.
Still—
It seems somewhat possible?
Her position on the crew here now is more stable, so even if things did get awkward between her and Cal, she thinks they can make it work.
But exactly when to make a move is a good question—all these Alliance missions are not especially conducive to this sort of thing.
Also, should she prepare a courting gift?
Did Jedi do that kind of thing?
Probably not, given what Cal just said about how Jedi are generally supposed to love.
But—
She thinks she has a pretty good chance here.)
“Good to know then,” she murmurs.
Cal blinks and then flushes even more, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh—well—yeah, I guess. Um—anyway. Not sure we know any more than when we started.”
“At least we know now that it wasn’t exactly some kind of long-standing grudge or plan that all the clones had,” Merrin points out. “I still think that maybe it was some kind of outside control going on—look how confused Cody still is now about the whole thing.”
“Maybe,” Cal says, a faraway look in his eyes. “I think—maybe some of the other clones will have the answers. We’re still just holding a few of the pieces, not the whole picture.”
And it turns out that Cal is right because when they land with Cody, another clone, this one with bleached blonde hair and named Rex, comes to greet them and embrace Cody, and also reveals the existence of control chips that had been installed in the clone’s brains.
Cody immediately pales. “Then—Fives was right all along—”
“Yeah,” Rex says with a heavy sigh, rubbing his face. “Still—Commander Tano managed to use what he told us to at least deactivate my chip before things could go bad there. But it was too late for too many brothers…”
“Including me,” Cody says heavily.
Rex claps a hand on Cody’s shoulder. “General Kenobi is still alive, isn’t he? Pretty sure I saw the Imperial bounty on his head, it’s insane. Your general is hard to kill, don’t worry—even if you tried your best, you know how Jedi are.”
“Karking insane,” Cody agrees, seeming to relax slightly in Rex’s grasp. “…should have shot Palpatine while I was still on Coruscant and still had a chance though.”
“As if Fox would have let you,” Rex says dismissively.
Cody’s mouth turns down. “…maybe, but Palpatine’s new apprentice killed him.”
Rex’s mouth twists. “That’s that Vader we keep hearing about? Don’t know where all these Sith keep popping up from—makes you wish General Skywalker was still around to bring them to heel, no matter how crazy his plans were.”
Cody rolled his eyes. “You enabled him with all his crazy plans, don’t act like you were the voice of reason now.”
“Hey, in comparison to Commander Tano, I was!” Rex argues back, crossing his arms.
Cody shakes his head, a grin on his face. “The 501st—truly crazy.”
“We were—even if most of them have now been taken over by that Vader,” Rex’s mouth twists in disgust. “Did you hear that they’re now calling themselves Vader’s Fist, or something?”
“Well, the best of them already left,” Cody says, clapping Rex on the back as well in a consoling fashion. “And—well. If I left, I think other brothers will leave too.”
“Here’s hoping,” Rex sighs before turning to the crew of the Mantis. “Thank you again for bringing him—I know it can’t have been easy with the Empire hunting all of you as well.”
“It’s what we should do,” Cere says easily.
“Yes,” Cal nods, looking between the two clones. “I didn’t—I’m only understanding now what happened to all of you, and I’m sorry.”
“We’re the ones who should be sorry,” Cody says heavily.
“The only person who should be sorry is the fucking Emperor,” Greez says bluntly, crossing all his arms. “I can’t believe he messed with all of your heads like that—that’s terrible! And the entire Clone Wars was also because of him? That’s insane.”
“If we could somehow spread the news…” Merrin muses out loud.
“We don’t have any hard proof,” Rex says heavily.
Cody shakes his head. “Palpatine is tricky as hell—he won’t have left any traces. He didn’t rise to the top of the Senate by nothing.”
“Still, something to look out for,” Cere muses, rubbing her chin.
Greez shakes his head. “Between looking for political dirt and Jedi stuff for your archive, where am I supposed to fly the Mantis next?”
“I vote Kashyyk because the Wookie Rebellion could use our help, and I already promised Merrin that I’d take her to see the planet,” Cal says promptly, glancing over at Merrin.
“I’d like that,” Merrin smiles at Cal.
Cere has an amused smile on her face, while Rex and Cody share glances, and Greez just lets out a very put-upon sigh. “Can we for once go somewhere where my ship isn’t likely to be shot out of the sky?”
“That’d be a waste of your piloting skills, wouldn’t it?” Cal grins at Greez.
Greez points at him with one of his arms. “Don’t think you can sweettalk me just like that, it’s going to take at least three new plants for you guys to make up for that stunt with the bogling!”
“Then we’re going then!” Cal cheers. “I’ll make sure to get some really cool plants for you, Greez!”
“Yeah, yeah, kid, make sure you don’t bring back any that can eat me,” Greez warns before turning to Merrin. “And don’t try sneaking any death spores or whatever onto the ship either!”
“But how would you know if I snuck any onto the ship?” Merrin points out with a quirk of her mouth.
Greez groans, throwing up his hands. “Why do I even try with you guys?”
“You love them, Greez,” Cere laughs, patting his back before turning back to Rex and Cody. “Well then—safe travels, and give the Imps hell.”
Both clones salute her, coming to attention. “Yes, General.”
“You got it, General.”
Cere waves them off. “My general days are long over.”
“Once a general, always a general,” Rex insists, holding his salute. “Safe travels.”
--
Kashyyk at first looks nothing like Dathomir—everything is green and wet and teeming with life, but after the third time of nearly getting eaten by a flower, Merrin thinks that in terms of all the wildlife out to kill you, Kashyyk could be Dathomir’s strange green reflection.
“Yeah, I thought of that too after the first time I visited Dathomir,” Cal agrees after bouncing up on some strange sponge plant all the way into the tall boughs of the trees. “They’re both death planets in wildly different ways—still, I thought you’d enjoy coming here?”
“It’s certainly interesting,” Merrin acknowledges, staring around, nearly unable to believe how much green there is blanketing the place. “I—there’s so much life here—but the spiders are nearly the same.”
BD-1 lets out a few toodles, and Merrin nods as she teleports up the branches and avoids the weird sponge plant Cal keeps jumping on (watching him go up and down to gain momentum is making her feel vaguely queasy). “Spiders are the constant of the wilderness.”
“I don’t know what they keep eating on Dathomir and here to grow so big though,” Cal sighs. “Do you know how many times I’ve got entangled in webs they spit at me?”
“You have a fancy lightsaber, you should use it,” Merrin replies with a quirk of her eyebrow.
“Kind of hard to when your hands are stuck to your sides,” Cal grumbles.
“Like Cere says, you should use the Force,” Merrin replies, wiggling her fingers at him.
“Again, not having hands to do it makes things difficult!” Cal protests.
“Doesn’t seem to stop you while sliding down muddy trails,” Merrin notes as Cal leaps into the air and lands perfectly on a ledge.
“That’s different, that’s just balance and having fun,” Cal says blithely.
Merrin once again considers whether or not Jedi are just missing some common sense (it’s probably all the flying up into the air, they can only get desensitized to it in time), but she doesn’t have that much time to think about because, yet another flower is intent on devouring her.
“Nearly there,” Cal says cheerfully, swinging himself onto another branch.
Merrin glances up at the giant trunk that seems to have no end. “Unless you suddenly developed teleportation skills you’ve never told me about, I’m sorry to tell you that I don’t think I can even teleport myself that far, much less you and BD as well—”
“Nope, we’re going to get a ride from a friend to the top!” Cal says, leaping onto another branch, and Merrin’s eyes widen as she travels forward and sees the massive white bird sitting there.
(Wow.
…she loves her home, but Dathomir never had anything as gorgeous as this.)
“She’s a Shyyo bird,” Cal explains. “I helped her out once, so now we’re friends!”
The Shyyo bird lowers its massive head, and Merrin marvels at both its beauty and grace.
Cal reaches out a hand to gently touch its head, and then turns his head to grin at her. “Do you want to try?”
“Will she let me?” Merrin asks doubtfully, looking up at the massive bird.
“Let’s see,” Cal says, moving slowly away. “Hey, this is a friend of mine—she’ll be your friend too!”
The Shyyo bird cocks its massive head as Merrin inches closer, and Merrin forces herself not to instinctively let magick blaze through her hands defensively (anything this big on Dathomir would be a life-threatening problem—but Cal is here, and Cal wouldn’t trick her into something dangerous).
The Shyyo bird’s feathers are surprisingly soft, and Merrin blinks as the Shyyo bird lets out a low trill.
“I think she likes you!” Cal says with a big grin.
“Hm,” Merrin says non-committedly, still stroking the Shyyo bird’s soft feathers (it’s almost hypnotic how soft it is).
“Shall we ride to the top?” Cal asks, pointing up the massive tree.
Merrin peers off into the distance, not even able to see the top of the tree, then back at the Shyyo bird. “…she’ll let us?”
“Well, she likes you, and I think I’m pretty good friends with her too now,” Cal says cheerfully, hopping onto the Shyyo bird’s back and then reaching out a hand to help her up.
Merrin could easily teleport herself up, but she instead takes Cal’s hand and lets him pull her up onto the Shyyo bird. It’s like stepping onto a cloud, and the Shyyo bird lets out a cry and then takes off into the sky.
It’s not like she hasn’t flown before—it seems to almost be inevitable when she goes on missions with Cal that they will end up hurtling through the sky as BD-1 shrieks in delight from Cal’s shoulder, but this is something else. The usual sense of terror is gone, and only the exhilaration remains, and she finds herself laughing with Cal as the Shyyo bird soars higher and higher into the towering boughs of the trees.
Eventually, they actually clear the top, to where the sky is visible, and the Shyyo bird lands and graciously sets them down.
“…this is amazing,” Merrin says, looking around at the breathtaking view of what looks like the entire Kashyyk forest.
“It’s really something, right?” Cal says happily, waving to the Shyyo bird as it flies away to do other things. “Always wanted to show you this—sorry we haven’t had a chance until now.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Merrin raises an eyebrow. “It’s not like you made it so that the Empire has been chasing us everywhere—hm, actually, never mind, you did.”
“You joined in,” Cal laughs, knocking shoulders with her. “You think I could be the Empire’s Most Wanted without your influence? Before I met you, I didn’t even have a bounty on my head!”
Merrin chuckles. “Happy to be of service then, I guess?”
“It’s been great,” Cal says, grinning at her. “I’m really happy that you decided to stick around—I know it hasn’t always been an easy time, but I hope that you’ve also been pretty happy?”
“It definitely beats Dathomir,” Merrin acknowledges, looking around. “It’s been strange—for so long my world was so small, and now in the past few months I’ve been to multiple planets and met so many people…I’ve liked it.”
(That said, some of those people hadn’t been great—besides obviously the Imperial forces, some people were only friendly because they had wanted to use her powers, but that wasn’t anything new.
And some people were very friendly—and she wasn’t opposed to that, but she thinks she has a pretty good chance with Cal right now, and she doesn’t want to jeopardize that.
Although she really hopes she isn’t deluding herself here.)
Cal hums in agreement, leaning back. “Yeah, I had a similar experience after getting off Bracca—it had been a long time since I had met anyone new.”
(If anyone deserves to be surrounded by people who love and appreciate him, it’s definitely Cal.
She understands why Cal ended up crushing the holocron, and that had been what she had been arguing for in the first place, but she does think it’s a shame that he won’t get the opportunity to rebuild the Jedi Order in a safe place.
She’s sure that a Jedi Order that Cal and Cere led, away from the Empire trying to hunt them down, would have to be something different than the malicious Jedi Order that she had built up in her mind or the corrupt one that Malicos continuously derided.)
“…one day, the Empire will be defeated, and you and Cere can build a new Jedi Order,” Merrin offers, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on her knees.
Cal smiles, his eyes far away. “That would really be something—I think I’d like to teach younglings. It could be fun—even if Jedi younglings are always a terror with trying to jump off of high places.”
Merrin looks pointedly around at the tree’s high branches. “You have no room to talk there.”
“I know how to apply the Force properly, younglings usually don’t!” Cal argues with a laugh. “Jedi younglings are a menace—now that I’m older, I realize that creche masters are real heroes.”
“You’re the exact same age as me,” Merrin points out.
Cal nods solemnly. “Yes, and now looking back, don’t you think baby Nightsisters were also terrors?”
(She doesn’t really remember—she mostly just remembers the camaraderie and wonder at learning magick when she had been young.
Still, they had all gotten into a few spots of trouble that the senior Nightsisters had to bail them out of—giant spiders are tricky when you’re a child and can’t teleport away.
It had been great fun—
Until the day it all ended.
It probably was the same for Cal as well.
The tragedy of the Empire and Sith plans, she supposes.)
“…maybe,” Merrin acknowledges. “Still, I feel like Dathomir is a different place than your Jedi Temple—that’s on Coruscant, isn’t it?”
“Coruscant, although I spent a lot of my years during the Clone Wars on different planets,” Cal acknowledges. “Master Tapal was a good general, so he was called to a lot of places…probably saved my life considering what happened in the Temple at the end…”
“One day, they’ll pay for everything they’ve done,” Merrin says firmly, looking out into the distance. “And you’ll take back the temple on Coruscant if you want—or you can build a new temple somewhere else if that one is too painful.”
“…I’d like that,” Cal says, also looking off into the distance. “I feel like Bogano has some potential there—Master Cordova and his droids really set up the whole place to be a great Jedi training ground.”
“You just think that because there’s tons of places for you to run on walls and jump through death defying feats,” Merrin teases.
“The key part of any growing Jedi youngling’s playtime!” Cal jokes before adding, “And in the rebuilt order, if you like, you can teach some classes too!”
Merrin blinks. “…you would let me take some of your Jedi younglings and train them as Nightsisters?”
“If they wanted to do so, I don’t see why not,” Cal says, spreading his hands out.
(And that’s Cal for you—
She doesn’t know if the old Jedi Order resembled what Malicos had told her—some of them must have, based on things that Cere has said, but at least Cal has always greeted her with open arms.
Even when other people seem slightly scared of her, there’s Cal, beaming and smiling and insisting on including her.)
Merrin can’t help her mouth starting to curve into a smile. “Won’t your other Jedi Order members have something to say about that?”
“If they do, they can just go ask Cere how effective Nightsister teachings are,” Cal shrugs. “The standard Jedi way wasn’t working for her—not if she actually has to reach for the Force now. And cutting yourself off from the Force isn’t really the best solution, it’s like losing a limb, so—I think the Nightsisters have a lot to share—only if they want to, though! If it reminds you too much of Malicos, then obviously you don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind sharing our teachings with true seekers,” Merrin says slowly. “Malicos only wanted my knowledge to further his own power, but if any of your younglings really wanted to learn the secrets of magick—or even if they were like Cere, and just wanted to learn how to channel their feelings when Jedi meditation wasn’t working for them—all of that is fine.”
(She had never dared to imagine new Nightsisters on Dathomir—especially when on Dathomir that would have required her to become the new Mother and pick one of the Nightbrothers to mate with, a thought that even now fills her with disgust.
But here is Cal openly offering her and the Nightsisters in general a future with him and the other Jedi.
Whether or not the other Jedi will be as accepting as Cal, she does not care, because she knows that Cal has her back and will steadfastly defend her.
Hope is such a dangerous thing, but it’s blooming in her chest along with other feelings.)
Sitting on the giant branch, green all around them, the wind billowing through her hair, while Cal smiles as brightly as the sun at her—
She can’t help but lean forward to kiss him.
It’s soft and awkward, his teeth clacking against hers as he jerks in surprise, but she feels a burst of happiness and lightness run through her body, just like with Ilyana all those years ago.
And when she pulls back to see Cal’s flushed cheeks and gigantic eyes staring at her with the dopiest smile she has ever seen on his face, she can’t help but snicker and reach out to push a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Sorry,” she apologizes even as joy races through her veins, “I should have asked you ahead of time—”
“I would have said yes,” Cal rushes to say, leaning into her hand before somehow turning even more red. “I mean—it was really nice! I hope you liked it too—I haven’t—before—”
Merrin blinks. “Really? No pretty guy or girl caught your eye on Bracca?”
Cal glances down, biting his lip. “A few did but I—I was basically trying to disappear on Bracca. And with all that I had to hide—I didn’t even know where to start with approaching someone.”
Merrin tilts her head, a pleased grin curving her lips. “Then, Cal Kestis, Jedi Knight, you have let a Nightsister steal your first kiss?”
“Well, it looks like I have,” Cal says, leaning forward with a grin tugging at his own mouth. “And if said Nightsister would like to steal some more, I wouldn’t mind…”
Merrin of course leans in to kiss him again, and by the end of it, Cal is deliciously flushed, and they’re both getting better at it.
“So—I guess this makes us—” Cal gestures between the two of them when they have to come up for air. “Um—serious?”
“We don’t have to be if you don’t want to, but I would like that,” Merrin says seriously.
Cal grins at her, his smile as brilliant as the rising sun. “I would like that too. There’s—so many things that are uncertain in this galaxy now, but having you by my side—it makes things seem like they’ll always work out for the best, you know?”
(…she doesn’t think anyone has ever said that about her.
It’s—a really nice feeling.)
“…that’s a little corny, isn’t it?” Cal says, wincing and rubbing the back of his neck.
“It is, but I like it,” Merrin says firmly, leaning forward to steal another kiss from him.
Cal grin at her is like the rising sun, so of course she has to kiss him some more until BD-1’s excited beeps take precedent, and they laughingly knock it off to rise higher through the trees.
(And kiss even more.
Mmm, Cal has always been a fast learner…
It’s quite nice.
Different from Ilyana, scratchier, but not unpleasant.
Quite the opposite in fact…)
--
Things around the Mantis don’t change as much as she thought they might with her and Cal together now—they still work together in more or less the same way, although there’s more touching now, and Cere and Greer are very accepting of their new relationship as well.
“About time,” Greer grumps. “The levels of adolescent pining in this ship were growing far too high.”
“There was no adolescent pining,” Merrin protests.
Greer just raises an eyebrow. “Maybe not from you, but from the kid? So much.”
BD-1 toodles in agreement, and Merrin glances over at Cal to see him staring at her, and when their eyes meet, he just smiles and waves at her.
“See what I mean? So much mooning even now—ah, youth,” Greer shakes his head. “I guess it’s better than the pining, but only slightly. What do you guys want for dinner? I’m trying out a new recipe, but I think it might be too spicy for all of you…”
“Nothing is as spicy as Dathomiran cuisine,” Merrin says seriously.
Greer cracks a grin. “Well, we’ll see about that.”
Cere’s reaction is even more direct, as she simply congratulates Merrin before tossing her a hefty packet.
Merrin blinks, weighing them in her hand while reading the packaging. “What are these?”
“Condoms,” Cere says simply. “I don’t think we need to bring a kid into this—although, of course, if you really want one, that is your choice. But we’re really going to have to talk about what missions both of you can go on in that case—”
“That’s—no, we’ll use the condoms,” Merrin says quickly, taking the package over with a shudder.
(She can’t even imagine kids—it’s already hard enough keeping the Mantis crew alive, adding a kid to the mix seems like a disaster in the making.
Plus, Nightsisters had always raised children communally, and while the crew is family, it’s not the same as a coven.
And then there’s the question of would Cal want a child—Jedi and attachments are complicated, and what is more complicated than your own flesh and blood?
They’re definitely not at the stage of asking those questions yet—they haven’t even slept together yet, so that’s the first situation that has to be rectified.)
Cere peers at Merrin. “And I’m sure the holonet has given you quite an education on the subject by now, but do I need to give the talk about reproduction and being safe? Thankfully Dathomirans and humans are similar enough that I don’t think I have to get too much into xenobiology here, but to be on the safe side, I can—”
Merrin holds up a hand. “The holonet quite suffices, thank you.”
(There’s some videos she actually wishes she could unsee, but still, she had gotten the gist of things.)
Cere’s brow unfurrows. “Oh good—I never had to give the talk to my own padawan, so I don’t really know how to do this. …not sure if I need to give this talk to Cal, but he grew up on Bracca, so you would think he should know more or less what happens—but to be on the safe side, maybe I should anyway—”
“Or you can let me tell him,” Merrin says blandly.
Cere coughs. “…certainly an option. I do not want to know the details of that, but as long as both of you are safe and there’s no—accidents, I’m happy for both of you.”
“There’s some tea that I could make that should also take care of things,” Merrin offers. “We’d have to go back to Dathomir to pick up the herbs, because I don’t think Cal found any of those seeds for Greer to plant, but—it’s very effective.”
“We’re not too far, I’ll tell Greer we need to make a stop there,” Cere says, clapping Merrin’s shoulder. “He’ll complain, but I’m sure if Cal and you bring back some other plants for his arboretum, he’ll cheer up soon enough.”
And going back to Dathomir with Cal at her side really is something else—there’s not much to show him that he hasn’t already seen because Jedi are crazy and go sliding and flying into every cave imaginable, but it’s still nice to show him her home when she’s not trying to actively attack him.
And it’s even nicer after she’s found the plants and brewed the tea for herself, and then pulled Cal into his bunkroom and shoved the box of condoms into his hands.
Cal’s eyes go wide, and he nearly drops the box.
“Are we really—really going to—” Cal fumbles, gesturing at the box.
“Yes,” Merrin says blinking before frowning, “Unless you don’t want to—we’re not about to do anything you’re uncomfortable with—”
“Oh, I am definitely very comfortable with it,” Cal says quickly, shifting in place. “It’s just—uh—I haven’t really had the chance before—trying to keep myself inconspicuous while I was in hiding—”
Merrin raises an eyebrow. “…you think I have had much experience while stuck on Dathomir?”
“Well—I mean—with Ilyana…?” Cal trails off awkwardly.
“She died when we were twelve,” Merrin points out. “And if you bring up the Nightbrothers, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”
Cal holds up his hands. “Noted. So, I guess we—um—now?”
Merrin hooks a finger over to Cal in a beckoning gesture, and Cal grins at her, so sweet and trusting, and wraps his arms around her and starts to kiss her, deeper and deeper.
(She’s going to devour him, and he’s going to let her.
Her Jedi Knight, so bright and beautiful and trusting.
And when they’re done here, they’ll fight side by side until the Empire is finished, and at last, they can both rebuild from the ruins of what remains.
Together.)