Imminently could mean a thousand different things and each possibility her mind came up with was worse than the last. They could have days, hours, minutes — they could have no time at all and there was no way for her to be certain.

A strange sense of panic began thrumming in her chest, steadily reaching a crescendo the more she turned Rolfe's words over in her mind. She wasn't hysterical — at least not yet — but the disorientation from a world turned upside down was only adding to her growing internal crisis.

Rolfe had an arrangement with either the Sith or the Separatists that she had no knowledge of. Rolfe had been working for, conspiring with, the very people he knew to be responsible for what happened to her all those years ago and she had never been the wiser. Val supposed she shouldn't be surprised; Rolfe had never been one to turn down profit — she assumed the Separatists at least paid well for their immorality — due to personal biases but it still felt like a blow to the ribs.

Despite the rift that had grown between them, Val had at least thought she knew who Rolfe was — but now she wasn't sure she knew him at all. The one thing she did know for certain, was that the leader of the Separatists was coming for Anakin.

Count Dooku.

She hadn't heard that name, that voice in years. The last time she had heard it, she was lying face down in a snow pile with the taste of frost and blood on her lips; her mentor's eyes pale and lifeless before her. The Sith acolyte had killed her mentor, and Valerie died only days later.

Val was a poor imitation of what she used to be.

She stumbled and the world tipped. She grabbed the wall for support, her chest tightening and her throat closing up. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to breathe, to calm down, to keep walking.

Rowan's room is just down the hall, keep going.

Val had never wanted to see a Sith again as long as she lived — the red glow of the corrupted lightsaber was the backdrop of her nightmares — and now the most dangerous one was coming here, for Anakin. She didn't know what to do. There was no doubt in her mind that if the Sith got ahold of Anakin, for whatever reason they wanted him, he would not walk out unscathed, if he walked away at all. She had not been able to walk away.

The effort it took to put one foot in front of the other, to stay upright, was comparable only to the first step she had taken after having her brace implanted — then, she had fallen and stayed down, tears streaking her face. Now, she did not have the luxury of breaking down despite her bleeding leg and bleeding heart. She steeled her gaze and soldiered on.

She entered the dorm hallway, the shades of grey blending together until she could barely tell where she was going. Finally, she found Rowan's door. She grasped weakly for the handle, missing several times, before she was able to grip the knob and push the door open.

She found Rowan sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books on poisons and protists. Her eyes snapped up when someone entered, a throwing knife in her hand instantly. When she realised it was Val, she threw the blade down and was on her feet at once. Rowan held her arms out in front of her, in a calming motion but also ready to catch her if she fell — Val was shaking, her breath barely in her lungs, hugging the door like it was the only thing keeping her conscious. She took a single step forward and was in Rowan's arms.

Her resolve shattered. As she gripped Rowan's sleeves, her vision clouded with tears. She closed her eyes, moisture seeping into Rowan's blouse as she held onto her friend like she was the only tether Val had left — in a way, she was. Rowan supported her weight and stroked Val's hair, confused but dutifully placing concern above her curiosity.

A voice in the back of her mind screeched that she was wasting time, that imminently could be now; but standing in Rowan's arms, all she could do was sob. Growing up, Val had been taught not to cry, not because it was a sign of weakness but because it was an indication of strong attachment — if you care enough that it brings you tears, then you care too much, child.

She still knew her mentor's voice better than her own, even after so long. He had always been gentle, kind and knowledgeable — never forcing her to grow up too quickly but made her want to grow up and follow his path. All she had ever wanted was to be like him; but he was gone.

She could feel Rowan's confusion, palpable in the air. Val drew herself back and opened her mouth to explain, but the words wouldn't form; it was as though her mind wanted to pretend it could all just be a bad dream, but speaking what she had heard into existence would make it true. She took short, sharp breaths in an attempt to calm herself but the words still couldn't pass her through the tears. Val raised her hands to speak instead.

'Rolfe isn't going to release Anakin back to the Republic.' Even her hands trembled as she signed.

'Why? What is he going to do with him?' Rowan asked, worrying creeping into her eyes as well — not so much for Anakin, rather for Val, who seemed on the verge of collapse.

'He made another deal with the Separatists, with...' Val trailed off. They had never made a word for what the Count was, she could never bring herself to speak of him.

Val cleared her throat, freeing her croaked voice. "He made another deal with the Sith lord, Count Dooku, for 3,000,000 credits."

Rowan didn't exhibit Val's terror, wasn't consumed by memories as she had been. Rowan was never told the full extent of who Val had been before the Reaper — she didn't know what fate awaited Anakin should the dark side get hold of him.

"He's coming here," She continued, "I don't know when but it's happening very soon."

It was silent for a long moment before Rowan asked.

'So what are you going to do?' Rowan knew Val better than anyone, knew it was not in her nature to willingly stand aside while injustice occurred. She knew that as foolish and reckless as her plans usually were, Val would never do nothing.

Val sighed, leaning back against the door. A whirlpool of hopelessness engulfed her, slowly drowning the little time they had to make a plan.

Suddenly, sporadically, she wanted to laugh; Rowan asked her what she was going to do, like doing something was so easy. But there was nothing she could do, no way to change Rolfe's mind or to hold the Sith off. Her only option, the only option she ever seemed to have, was running — hiding away where her guilt couldn't find her until it was over. She could still leave, disappear into the abyss that existed between stars; but now she would live the rest of her life knowing her friend would likely die because of her inaction.

Val covered her face with her sleeves, hoping to find solace in the black of her eyelids where she could pretend none of it was happening. She had based her entire escape, her entire new life that was barely more than a budding flower, on the basis that Anakin would be free. That they would both be free and never cross paths again — content in knowing that somewhere in the galaxy, the other was alive and thinking of them.

She would spend the rest of her miserable life thinking of him; his fate would trail her like a spectre. Just another chord of guilt added to the chain wrapped around her throat.

The realisation hit her fast and burning. She had already lost her mentor, her legs, her path, to the Sith — and she had never come to terms with that. There was no way to reclaim her past, but her future still lay before her, uncertain. She didn't have to make peace with Anakin's death. He was still alive, and she still had time. She didn't have to change Rolfe's mind or sabotage the Sith; she only had to do what she did best.

Run.

Her breath turned ragged and enraged. She would betray Rolfe. She would get herself and Anakin out no matter what it took. Val had already lost everything to the Sith, she would not lose Anakin as well. Resolve settled into her bones, compounding into a new-found strength that she almost didn't recognise, it had been so long. She looked up at Rowan, who smiled softly at her.

"I'm getting him out... and I'm leaving, too. Come with me?"

Rowan shook her head, gentle but decisive. Her hands were steady as she spoke. 'This is who I am, Val. But it's never been who you are. Once you're out, I'll keep them off your trail for as long as I can.'

Rowan had always known this life did not suit Val. It clashed with who she was and who she will be, an unsteady middle ground settled upon for the mere fact that there was nowhere else to go. Rowan had always known, perhaps she had hoped, that her friend would one day find the courage to seize whatever she saw in the stars beyond the ship. That day had come.

Val nodded, disappointed but unsurprised. Rowan had always fit here so well, even Val couldn't imagine her changing. Freedom to Rowan was learning and a safe place to keep her plants — all of which the Reaper provided. Freedom to Val was something else entirely, though she wasn't sure what yet.

She didn't want to start anew on her own, but somehow Val knew she wouldn't be.

The two reached at the same moment, holding each other tightly. Val pressed her face into Rowan's blouse, memorising the scent of earth and orchids — she had never thought the day would come when they would have to say goodbye. Rowan kissed the top of Val's head, blinking away tears before pulling away. She knew if she held on any longer than neither of them would ever let go.

"We'll see each other again." It wasn't a question and Val's voice didn't shake. Rowan was the truest friend she had ever known and no matter how long it took, they would come back to each other. Perhaps Rowan wouldn't recognise her when she did come back — perhaps that was the point.

Rowan smiled softly, sad to see her friend leave but knowing it was the only way she could live.

'I hope you find what you're looking for.'

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Val realised, with a start, that leaving would be easier than she thought.

Standing in the centre of her room, turning in a slow circle, she realised that she was never here. There wasn't even a dent in the walls to suggest that someone had spent four years of their life in this room, and done nothing with it. There were no pictures or personal touches of any kind, the room was as empty as it had always been — as though she had always known she would never belong there.

The room felt even more vacant without the bed she had given to Anakin and if she washed the glasses and straightened the chairs, a passersby would think it had never been touched and she would be nothing more than a ghost, unable to alter the world around her — though, she supposed it was much easier to disappear when you left no footprints.

She shook her head and got to work.

She pulled a brown coat — the only other coat she owned — off a hanger, wearing her blue coat over it; she wasn't sure what her daring escape would entail, but it was better to have an extra coat she didn't need than to not have one when she did need it. Her twin swords leant against the wall and she secured them across her back, the weight familiar and comforting; the swords may represent a bloodied path but they were her only constant now — they would never falter or break, like a person might.

Val blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked around the room, her eyes settling on the kitchen cabinet. She leant down and collected a small carry case containing medical supplies; useful for a variety of wounds, and history proves she was prone to injury. Taped to the underside of the counter was a pouch containing the credits she'd managed to squirrel away over the years — it wasn't a substantial wealth, rather a livable amount that would last a month at the most. She tucked it into her coat pocket beside the case, the credits clinking together as they settled.

Lastly, her eyes settled on her nightstand and the glass flower resting atop it. She held the sphere gently, almost reverently. She realised that now, she may be able to return to Alderaan — her hiraeth. The thought alone was both tantalising and terrifying. Alderaan had become an almost mythical place in her mind, the land of half-submerged dreams rather than memories. She had never considered returning before, what would even be left standing for her to return to?

Val shook her head; first, they had to escape. Then, she could dream.

She reached for the doorknob, pausing to glance behind her. Once she crossed this threshold, there would be no coming back. Her necklace weighed around her neck, and she considered removing it to snap the final tie she had to the Reaper, to Rolfe. But leaving this life behind would not erase it, and she didn't want to try — the guilt she would always carry was not something she should be allowed to forget. It was something she would spend every day of the rest of her life atoning for. She let the chain fall against her neck once more, the dark silver metal shimmering under the fluorescent light.

Val sighed and stepped beyond the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maintaining an inconspicuous composure was infinitely harder when she was about to commit mutiny. The halls she had walked so freely just hours ago now felt like danger at every turn — every pirate she passed gave her a respectful nod but all she could see was suspicion in their eyes. She breathed deeply, calming her erratic heart. There was a mandatory assembly in the atrium that everyone was attending, likely in regards to repairs; and as far as the others knew, she was still Rolfe's loyal second and therefore wasn't questioned as to why she was headed in the other direction.

She entered the curving staircase down to the cells, lingering in the shadows for a moment. She could vaguely make Anakin out from here. He was sitting against the wall, his arms resting against his propped up knees and his eyes were closed — he appeared to be meditating. Val looked to the side in quiet contemplation. Before the question of whether this was the right decision could surface, she drowned it. Val had spent long enough deliberating over a choice she already knew she had to make — regardless of what she wanted, Anakin needed to be free before the Count arrived. The time for hesitation was over. She stepped into the light.

Anakin's eyes opened as she came closer and relief flickered across his face. He didn't particularly want to admit that he had spent an hour pacing in worry after she hadn't returned to him. Val stopped just before the bars. His gaze swept across her, the extra clothing, the swords ready for battle, the resilience in her eyes. She pressed a button on her wrist and the electric blue glow separating them faded.

"We need to leave."

His eyes widened in confusion. He opened his mouth but she silenced him with a raised palm.

"All you need to know is that Count Dooku is on his way here for you and he could arrive at any moment. I'll explain the rest later but we have to go now." She summarised, her foot tapping anxiously. Every moment they wasted was another moment the Sith Lord drew nearer.

If anyone else had said that the Count was coming for him, he wouldn't have been so quick to believe them — but Val had never given him a reason to be distrustful and despite himself, despite how little he knew about her, he trusted her.

Anakin's expression shifted to a smug smile as he stood. "So you are here to save me?"

Val tilted her head to the side in confusion. Realisation clicked in her mind and she laughed, her anxiety fading for a moment as she recalled her first words to him.

"I guess I am that kind of girl. Now let's go, buzzard."

Anakin smiled and matched her strides as they retraced her path through the ship, pausing before every corner to ensure no pirates lingered. Val's nerves ran a reckless path through her blood; every sound and flash of colour spelt their undoing in her mind. They entered a four-halled juncture when Anakin stopped behind her. She turned to look back at him, but stopped as well when she saw his expression.

"My lightsaber. I can't leave without it." He said, his eyes already looking towards the Captain's office. She scoffed at her own stupidity; how could she have forgotten Anakin's lightsaber, especially when their success or failure hung so delicately in the balance.

Refusal sat on the edge of her tongue like a blade; the precipice between two choices that could dictate their survival. Valuable time would be spent retrieving the weapon, time they couldn't afford to spare, but then again, how could she ask Anakin to abandon that which was so instinctively his?

She huffed in annoyance but nodded, and they took off down the corridor.

The halls were eerily quiet and as they edged open Rolfe's office door, a fleeting panic that he somehow knew what she had done and was waiting for them inside consumed her. They found the room dark and empty, lit only by the red glow of a lamp. Anakin walked ahead of her to the back wall and found his lightsaber exactly as it had been. He plucked it off the stand and cradelled it in his palm, savouring its shape like the embrace of an old friend finally returned home. He reattached the weapon to his belt and walked back towards her. He paused midstep, his head cocked as though listening to a phantom melody.

"Do you feel that?" He asked what he hadn't been able to earlier — it was a strange humming sensation through the Force that he knew she had also felt, though he didn't know how.

She was trying not to feel it. Each time she returned to this room, the pull became stronger, harsher, like an animal straining to be free of a leash. The tempo building in her bones drowned out all thought, all preconceived fear, it was as though the universe itself was screaming her name.

"I...." She trailed off.

A red string tied to her ribcage tugged her past Anakin towards the trophy wall, towards the dark steel cases, and she followed it blindly. Some primal instinct had her taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, her fingers outstretched in front of her as though waiting for an invisible guiding hand. The same energy that had brought her blade into her hand during the battle now pulled her forward — the cacophony ringing in her mind became louder, faster. Only when her hand met a cold surface did the pounding stop, the sudden absence as disorienting as the noise itself — she had never felt the room or her mind as quiet as it was now.

Val looked down, a shuddered breath escaping her lips. There, laying broken and discarded in the glass-lidded coffin, was a lightsaber.

"He told me it was destroyed." She whispered, her eyes wide.

She pulled a knife from her boot and hurriedly jimmied the lock, the mechanism coming undone with an audible click. She opened the lid slowly, fearfully; her hands shook as they reached inside. The metal was cold and would be foreign if it didn't fit so perfectly in her hand.

After all, she had designed it herself.

The cortosis was badly damaged — she wasn't sure if it would even still work — but the original design was still clear beneath the dents and scrapes. The hilt was thin and silver, curving slightly to aid her grip and the shape of her palm. It was etched with faint Aurebesh runes, worn down from young Val rubbing her thumb over the words for comfort. Slowly, everything came back.

Either she couldn't breathe, or this was the first time she had breathed in four years. It felt like a missing link returned to its chain, a wayward child come home.

Anakin, who had been silently watching her until this point, both concerned and curious, came to stand at her side. When he saw the lightsaber in her hand, each carefully laid out piece came together to form the complete puzzle.

"You're part of the Order." He said, voicing a suspicion he had held for some time now.

"I was."

Everything he had observed and everything she had told him suddenly clicked into place. Her mentor — her Master, more likely — that died at the hands of a Sith, the strange familiarity of her fighting style, the padawan braid she kept tucked behind her ear as a reminder of what she used to be.

He was drawn to everything Val was because they were one and the same.

The realisation was both a pleasant surprise that the friend he had made was a part of his Order, but also icy dread as the stories of her past interlocked in his mind. Four years ago, Val's life had gone horribly wrong and somehow, no one had come for her — he wanted to know why.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded down the hall. They locked eyes and silently agreed to leave the questions for later when they were far away from the Reaper. Val tucked the hilt into a coat pocket and, in sync, they both turned back to the door and exited the room. Quickly, they made their way back to the crossroads and Val led him towards the hangar.

The hangar was large and thankfully, empty. Four ships were stored there, the Outlaw one among them. She had been debating in her mind which ship to commandeer; part of her wanted to take the smallest so as to cause the least inconvenience, but the other part reasoned that she was already taking his most valuable prisoner so she might as well steal his most valuable ship.

The Pathfinder was Rolfe's newest acquisitions, a blue battle class gunship capable of intergalactic skirmishes and hyperjumps, stolen from a mysterious, though clearly wealthy, stranger — Val had never flown it, but her experience as a pilot of other starfighter classes would hopefully bridge the gap.

She stepped towards it when a shot sounded from across the room. Anakin grabbed her arm quickly and pulled her down behind a crate for cover.

Rolfe must have returned to his office and seen the missing lightsabers. She cursed loudly, colourfully. Anakin chuckled in spite of their predicament —  his breath was hot on her cheek as he crouched beside her, his body shielding hers. She tried to ignore that particular observation and instead surveyed the pirates flooding into the room.

"Which ship?" He yelled over the sound of blaster bolts striking metal.

They didn't have a choice now. The Pathfinder was the only ship capable of long distance hyperspace jumps — which they would most certainly need to escape the Reaper now that Rolfe had caught on. It was towards the middle of the large hangar, a straight shot through the blaster fire.

"Follow me." She said, reaching for the long sword. Anakin stopped her hand by holding her wrist. She looked back at him questioningly and he released her — she almost wanted to say that wasn't why she had looked at him.

"How about you let the one who can deflect blaster bolts go first?" He said, an impish smile on his face, the moment already forgotten.

She rolled her eyes but let him move forward to cover her. He assessed the scene for a moment, before nodding. The two started running side by side, Anakin's lightsaber a flurry of colour and burning air as he blocked every bolt that may have hit them.

Val skidded to a stop by the door to the ship, gunfire erupting while her fingers punched in the number code Rolfe changed every other month. She whooped in relief when the code she last knew it to be worked and the panel door rolled down.

She ran inside to the cockpit while Anakin slowly ascended the ramp; he was still deflecting blaster bolts back to their shooters but the pirates were slowly advancing towards them.

Val ran towards the control station and flipped through the slides on her wrist control pad. A blaring red cross appeared on the holographic screen — Rolfe had manual control over the security keys from his office and he had just locked her out. She huffed in frustration and threw the wrist pad to the ground, crushing it with her heel. She calmed herself with a deep breath and narrowed her eyes, moving to the ship's console. Two could play at that game.

Hunched over the ship's internal security system, rapidly burning through override after override to get the bay doors open, she silently thanked her younger self for all the years she had spent repairing ships and teaching herself engineering. She came to a deadend and cursed; the newer ship mainframes had an extra element of security she was unfamiliar with and she fumed at the precious seconds it cost her to find a bypass.

"Any time now!" Anakin yelled from the entry, the whir of his lightsaber getting louder as he was forced to slowly inch further into the ship.

"I'm working on it!" She shouted back, the speed of her decrypting somehow increasing until her fingers were a blur.

Finally, the metal groan of a thousand-pound door separating drowned out the sound of blaster fire. She heard Anakin enter the ship, closing the door behind him — the pirates blaster bolts ricochet harmlessly off the exterior of the ship.

Val settled into one of the pilot seats, initialising the engine with her hands on the wheel. Anakin ran in, standing behind the chair as she slowly lifted the vessel off the ground. She pressed forward on the wheel and the ship complied, smoothly exiting the airlock shield. Val had been right, it wasn't too different from what she was used to.

Suddenly, the ship jerked to the side. The dashboard lit up red and Val looked behind them to see the Reaper's turrets firing at them. Quickly assessing the damage on the screens, she saw that the back of the ship had taken a hit and was currently expelling debris.

They needed to jump now, before the cruiser could damage something vital.

Val flipped the hyperdrive switch but the drive required time to calibrate. She cursed as the Reaper's cannons fired relentlessly at their small vessel and Val took evasive action as best she could, but wherever she flew the larger ship always seemed to find its mark. Her head smashed against the wheel as the left-wing took a direct hit — smoke began pouring out.

She heard Anakin mutter something quickly behind her, before he put his hand on her shoulder. "Move over."

She complied wordlessly, blood trickling from her forehead, and shuffled over to the co-pilot's seat. Anakin sat down and grasped the wheel, a determined calm in his eyes.

He immediately threw them into a dive, spiralling so haphazardly that not even the most accurate shooter could have targeted them.

Val gripped the armrests, her nails digging into the leather until they levelled off again. There was no point in trying to return fire to a ship that large so they were forced to continue with evasive action. Anakin began expertly zigzagging, buying time while the hyperdrive came online.

She had never seen anyone fly like Anakin. He dodged and weaved through the gunfire as though he knew where the strike would hit before it ever got a chance to land. His movements were sudden and jagged to the point of appearing reckless, but every motion led into the next; it was almost like a dance between Anakin and death — and Anakin wasn't losing.

The monitor beeped as the hyperdrive came fully online.

"I can't keep this up much longer. How far can this thing jump?" Anakin asked, his eyes never leaving the turbulent space before them. The left-wing was nothing but ash now and he was barely able to keep the ship steady.

Val looked at the monitor and saw that the damage to the rear of the ship had shorted out the hyperdrive engine and it wasn't able to operate at full capacity. She cursed at the read-out it gave but relayed it back to Anakin. He yelled a much uglier curse.

"It'll have to do. Set the coordinates to the farthest planet you can!" He said, swerving to the right.

Val groaned as the sudden movement threw her against the metal console, the corners digging into her ribs. She tapped a random planet on the edges of the hologram map and the ship hummed as the hyperdrive engine activated.

A kaleidoscope of colour surrounded them as they made the jump to hyperspace. Knowing that the beams of white and blue light that passed them were actually whole sectors that they moved through in an instant was thrilling. The ability to traverse a galaxy so vast and so free was perhaps her heart's truest desire. She looked to her left to see if Anakin felt the same cosmic awe she did, but he was only looking at her with a broad smile on his face.

She found herself returning his grin without question. The thought that they might have actually escaped crossed her mind for the first time and the unrestrained relief that filled her was unparalleled. Val hadn't realised what a prison the Reaper had been until she was free of it.

Her eyes flickered back to Anakin as he reached out and brushed his fingers over where the skin split on her forehead, a mildly concerned look on his face. She opened her mouth to reassure him she was fine when the ship suddenly shook and every module on the console lit up red. Anakin retracted his hand and began furiously tapping the screens while still guiding the ship through the warp.

"What's wrong?" She asked, sitting forward in her chair to see the monitor.

"We've taken too much damage, the ship isn't going to be able to land." He informed her as they came out of hyperspace. He shot her a glance and saw the panicked expression on her face.

"But don't worry." He added, almost as an afterthought.

"Don't worry? How could I not worry?!" She asked incredulously. Everything he had just said was cause for alarm. Especially as the surface of a large arid planet became closer and the ship didn't slow.

"Did you forget who's flying, seaflea?" He winked at her with a smirk and pushed the ship into a dive.

If she'd had any less dignity, she would have shrieked, but with Anakin laughing beside her, she couldn't find it in herself to be entirely afraid. Besides, if she screamed and they survived, he would never let her forget it.

They were falling so fast and the ship began burning up in the atmosphere but Anakin didn't stop, not even as the savannah surface of the planet pressed up against them and she could see the poplar trees.

Barely half a mile from the ground, Anakin pulled the gunship up as best he could. They became level with the earth and he tried to inch the ship down for the smoothest landing possible.

Val heard a hissing coming from behind them. She turned to look and her eyes widened as the rear of the ship began shaking and a red glow emitted from the hallway.

"Get down!" She screamed, pulling him away from the wheel and behind a metal divider just as the engine exploded around them and they crashed to the planet's surface.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"What happened."

Count Dooku sucked all the air out of the room with a single stare. Rolfe had never felt small on his own ship, but standing before the Sith Lord didn't leave much room for a dominance battle. There were very few times Rolfe would deign to humble himself and being in the presence of the Count was one of them.

"He escaped with the help of someone onboard. They stole a ship and made the jump into hyperspace." Rolfe informed, his hands held behind his back but within reaching distance of his blaster.

"I was under the impression you kept your crew on a tight leash, Captain." Count Dooku remarked, glancing distastefully at Rolfe's trophy wall.

"She's... a unique circumstance."

"She?" The Count prompted, dangerously impatient for more information and on the verge of killing Rolfe where he stood for the mere inconvenience he had caused.

"She was my second-in-command," Rolfe admitted after a moment, with no small amount of shame.  "A former Jedi I turned into a pirate, though not turned enough apparently."

The rage that coursed through his veins at Valerie's betrayal was inconceivable. After everything he had done for her — rescuing her, feeding her, welcoming her onto his ship, allowing her to become better than what she had been — she still had the gall to betray him. Rolfe supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; it was in their nature to be cunning, treacherous creatures.

She was a Jedi. Rolfe had wanted to kill her where she lay in the snow all those years ago, and now he truly wished he had.

"You had a Jedi under your command and I was never informed?" The Count asked, the calm in his gravelled voice a mask for his growing annoyance.

"You would have had no use for her, she is crippled and weak-willed," Rolfe argued, suddenly defensive.

The Count narrowed his eyes, towering over Rolfe. "You are making a dangerous habit of presuming my motives, Captain."

Rolfe's eyes widened slightly and he stepped back.

"Evidently," Count Dooku remarked, his eyes turning to the large window out into the universe. "She was not as weak as you believed her to be, seeing as she stole Skywalker from right under your nose."

"We have their planetal location. I can have my crew retrieve them immediately." Rolfe said, moving to stand at the Count's side as though they were equals — as though Rolfe was anything standing beside a Sith Lord. Normally, Rolfe would make the Count pay for that information, but the profit had subsided in his mind. Revenge was at the forefront.

"No, you've failed me enough as it is." Count Dooku didn't even spare him a glance, dismissing the Captain's assistance as easily as a cat might bat away a fly. Instead, he looked out to the galaxy as though he could see his quarry already.

"No. I will put a bounty out for them myself. Pray your information is accurate."

author's note:

first off, i just wanted to say thank you all so much for 1k reads and over a hundred votes in the less than three months !! you guys literally make my day, every single day -- anyway back to it

🎊Whooo!🎊 ik it's shorter than usual but that that concludes act one !!

val's past has finally been revealed, she and anakin have escaped, and rolfe has been humiliated; all is right in the world 😊

give me all your thoughts please !! ik quite a few people have guessed it already but what are we feeling about val being a jedi ??? 👀

new act divider and chapter seven coming soon !!

have a lovely day, my beautiful people 💖