They had a two day operation planned. Firstly, they needed intel before any kind of attack could be planned. Val and Anakin both agreed not to involve the villagers; none of them possessed any kind of combat training and it would only end in the senseless loss of life. They would have to handle this alone.

As the sun rose, they commandeered one of the speeders still piled outside the village and drove to the compound to conduct surveillance. Once they had what they needed, they could make a plan to infiltrate the base, free the captives and eliminate the threat — permanently. When Anakin had relayed that part of his plan to her, she had been mildly shocked. Her Master had instilled in her that all forms of life were sacred — most mistakes could be rectified and death was never the answer.

But for Anakin, death had never even been the question. Obviously, she was no beacon for pacifism, given her startlingly red history — but he continued to surprise her. She wondered how the Order had ever accepted him into their ranks, given how blatantly he disregarded their code of ethics. Not that she was complaining; adhering entirely to the Jedi Code was the fastest way to ensure nothing ever got done.

They disembarked the speeder on a hill overlooking the compound, a safe distance away; they could see a large wall, lined with electric pylons every few metres and a single roller gate entrance. There was a large building, bigger than the entire Twi'lek village, surrounded by smaller structures; all plotted to form a circle around the centre of the complex.

"I don't see any lookouts, there's no one in the open area either." She stated, standing while Anakin went to one knee beside her. They must all be hauled up in the building, taking shelter from the arid winds and burning sun.

Anakin studied the field like a war general — which, she supposed, he was. Val had disappeared before the clone wars had ravaged the galaxy, before they became soldiers rather than saviours — she doubted any padawan there knew what a true peacekeeping Jedi looked like. It didn't look like Anakin.

Anakin was steel forged in pure starlight, steadfast and uncompromising — and stubborn. So stubborn. Not at all the reserved pacifist regime so intrinsic with the Jedi image. She wondered what he was like as a youngling, was his relentless drive inherent or taught? Had he been like her? Always moving from one site of mayhem to another, running through the sunlit halls without a care in the world, onto the next adventure before the first had even ended. Even before she was his padawan, her Master had always been mere steps behind her, as mischievous as she had been — perhaps more so.

Her smile faded; the fighting had likely doused the temple's light in the sombre darkness of war, drenching her once home in shadows. Were her friends dead? The intrusive thought had crossed her mind before but now, with a Jedi by her side once more, the speculation became all too real for her — no longer something she could hide from or ignore. And therein lay the hidden truth of why she refused to return; seeing the gleaming temple of Coruscant would make it all true. Here, in the bubble of obscurity found only on the fringes of existence, could she hide from the truth that everything she had been and everyone she had loved was gone. She wanted to remain as she was now, with only the memories of a happy childhood, untainted by war.

It occurred to her then that she and Anakin must have known each other, or at least known of each other. They were little more than a year apart in age. They must have grown together, studied together, trained together. And yet, she couldn't place his child-self to any memory she had of her padawan days. It was as though he emerged as soon as she left, the replacement for everything she had the potential to be.

"First, we need to get over that wall. I can get us onto the roof and with any luck, they'll be an access point up there. We find where they're keeping the Twi'leks and the armoury — we free the captives, destroy the weapons, take down as many raiders as we can, and everyone goes home happy. Well, everyone except the raiders." He added the last part with a tilted smirk.

"Hold on, I thought the plan was surveillance today and infiltration tomorrow?" As much as she believed in her and Anakin's abilities, it would still be an impressive feat for only the two of them to pull off with no pre-emptive planning — his confidence was both encouraging and concerning.

He shrugged, "Why do tomorrow what can be done today?"

Before she could open her mouth to ask exactly how well that mindset had served him in the past, he had already begun skidding down the hill towards the base, dragging her along behind him. They sprinted to the shadow of the wall, pressing against it.

"Now what, General?" She asked mockingly, her back to the concrete and looking up at the towering expanse. Anakin stepped back, seemingly judging the wall — it was fifty feet high, an extra five for the incredibly dangerous electric poles placed on top. He looked between her and the structure slowly, the barest remnants of a plan forming in his mind. She raised an eyebrow, wary of the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

He came to her side, stood so closely that they shared breath. She forgot how to speak, lost between suspicion and curiosity — and the warmth of his body, somehow so different from the desert heat. In one fluid motion, he wrapped his arms around her back and under her knees, holding her against his chest. She resisted the instinct to squirm lest he drop her; she looked up at him questioningly though strangely, not uncomfortable.

He gave her a devilish grin, "Don't look down."

He didn't give her time to ask what he meant before he pushed off the ground with inhuman strength. Anakin, with Val barely suppressing a curse, lept high above the wall's electric fencing. An invisible force propelled them forward towards the roof of the main building. She watched as the cement surface came closer and closer and they didn't slow; fear constricted her chest in the final moments and she turned to bury her head in Anakin's chest instead. A jolt went through them, and then nothing. She considered the fleeting possibility that they may be dead.

"You can open your eyes now, seaflea." She heard Anakin say softly after a few moments, still cradling her. She looked down to see they had jumped the seventy feet and landed on the roof; a feat made possible only through the Force. Val huffed a laugh, both relieved and in awe — it had been years since she felt the rush of invincibility that came from being one with the Force, she hadn't realised how much she had missed it.

She met Anakin's eyes, about to relay how incredible that was, but he was already staring at her strangely — an intense emotion in his eyes, one she couldn't place.

"What is it?" She asked quietly, the wind drowning out her words but he still seemed to hear her perfectly.

He shook his head like he was coming out of a trance, the emotion vanishing. "Nothing."

He set her down on her feet, taking a step away. She wanted to think nothing of it, but every minute detail about Anakin was somehow turned into a puzzle piece in her mind that she used to profile him. Everything he did somehow had a greater purpose or design, a design she was seemingly a part of now. He turned away from her and she almost opened her mouth to speak to him, question him, ask him to confide in her. But she had refused to share her own secrets, so why should he share his?

Anakin began walking towards a hatch in the corner of the roof, drawing a conflicted Val along after him. As she stood above the panel whilst Anakin lifted it open, she considered asking him a third and final time to remove the cuff; she tried to tell herself it was because they couldn't afford to be handicapped in a dangerous situation such as this. But in complete honesty, there was still a frightened bird trapped beneath her ribs, awaiting the first breath of free air to escape. It was as though the cuffs bound her to this plane, holding her accountable for the desire she had expressed. To be a force for freedom — though not her own, it seemed.

And yet, she almost wanted to be left behind whilst Anakin displayed the heroics; an insidious voice questioned whether the pirate blood ran too thick and too deep. What if she couldn't see who she was killing through all that red? What if she swung her blade and couldn't stop it again? What if she was still Rolfe's protege no matter how hard she struggled to change?

Anakin looked up at her, holding the hatch that led to a lower platform open. "Ready?"

No. "Yes."

She jumped soundlessly down onto the cold metal catwalk, Anakin a moment behind her. The door closed above them and they were plunged into darkness. A blue light, accompanied by the humm of cauterising air, appeared beside them.

Val rolled her eyes, "You know, I don't think that's one of the uses they had in mind when creating the lightsaber."

"Do you have a better idea?"

She shrugged, "Not particularly. Doesn't make your idea good, though."

Anakin laughed sharply, and they descended along the high ropes. She followed his lead, always two beats behind. These raiders were the type the Reaper, that Val, would have associated with just a mere month ago. And now she was honour-bound to put an end to them — how many people had dreamed about ending her? Perhaps one of these very raiders. It was entirely plausible. There was a distressingly long list of people she had pissed off and lived to tell about; one day, someone on that list would catch up to her. She just hoped it wasn't today, when there were others at stake. Any other day, and she was happy to receive what was inevitably coming for her.

Anakin deactivated his lightsaber as they reached a staircase descending down into the grimy corridors, lit by neon green over hanging lights. They peered around the corner and found it vacant, and then turned back to each other.

"Armoury or Twi'leks first?" Anakin asked, positioning himself towards the open corridor so he could keep watch while they strategised.

"You know, we could do both if we split up." She said pointedly, flattening herself against the wall to put whatever space she could between them.

"We split up so you can disappear while I'm surrounded by raiders?" He replied, purposely not meeting her eyes. There was an unmistakable bitterness to his words, a question he didn't know how to ask but wanted answered.

Her mouth parted in disbelief, her thoughts blanking from whatever she had intended to say next — did he truly think her so despicable? That she would leave him on the cliff's edge, dangling by a thread.

Val wanted to refute his fears, to reassure him that he certainly meant more to her than that, but what had she done to prove he could truly trust her? Their escape from the Reaper was as much to save her own life as it had been to save his — and he knew that.

But on the contrary, what had he done to prove she could trust him? Anakin was a Jedi; the manifestation of everything she wanted forgotten, everything she wanted buried. Val had sacrificed all she was to rescue him, and he repays that deed by binding her to a fate she didn't want. What more could he take from her? More accurately, what more could he keep from her.

Val sighed — she knew he wasn't keeping anything from her, she didn't have anything to begin with. Val had nothing left but her weapons and her word.

She could give Anakin both.

Val had sworn to be everything Anakin thought she wasn't. If he was so sure she would abandon him too, then she would stay. Not because of obligation or guilt; but because he was her friend, and she had so few left.

Val took his hand that was tied to her and held it tightly. He looked away from the empty space beside them and met her eyes. Blue and cold as frost, she knew it was a mask — a wall of ice he erected to defend himself because he knew, and so did she, that whatever Val said next would strike more deeply than he cared to admit.

"I'm with you." She said, an echo of the promise she had made to him what felt like a lifetime ago. What kind of friend would I be if I left you now?

He searched her eyes, the very depths of her soul, for the truth. She didn't falter, not for one moment. This was her truth. Pirate and Jedi meant nothing standing beside him — it didn't matter who they were meant to be, only what they were in this moment. And out here, they could be anything. She would not abandon him like the Order abandoned her... not when he needed her.

Years seemed to pass before he made a decision. Her eyelids fluttered as he swiftly severed the plasmatic chain link holding them together, the shackles falling open and clattering to the floor a moment later. Val rubbed her wrist, the skin cold to the touch while every other piece of her burned like fire.

"I'll find the Twi'leks while you destroy the weapons," She said, drawing her short sword in favour of the narrow halls. She wondered if Aeshao'nya's mysterious sister was among those held prisoner.

"We'll meet in the open area outside." Val continued. Anakin regarded her quietly for a moment, the air between them crackling like electricity.

"We walk out of here together?" He held his hand out to her, once more the answer to her question.

Val didn't hesitate to clasp his hand, and she could have sworn blue sparks flared between their fingers.

"Together."

Anakin flashed her a grin and set off down the corridor on silent feet. Val watched him go, seeing him safely around the corner. Once Anakin disappeared from view, she sighed, preparing herself for whatever lay ahead of her.

She turned and set off in the opposite direction to Anakin, skirting along the walls. The halls were suspiciously silent as she moved forward, the only sound to be heard was the occasional creak in the panelling. Finally, she heard voices coming from around a bend; she put her back to the wall and looked around the corner subtly. Two raiders, who appeared to be guards, stood laughing with their backs to her. She smirked and leant away. She tightened her grip on her shortsword and breathed deeply, centering herself.

A heartbeat later, she opened her eyes and strode into the corridor. The two men hadn't noticed her and one of them never did. She grabbed the unlucky one by the head and savagely drew her blade across his throat. He crumpled to the ground. The next man fumbled for his blaster, drawing it. He tried to aim at her heart but she forced his arm up with her free hand, the shot striking the ceiling. Val twisted his arm behind his back, shoving his face into the wall.

"I'll give you one chance," She said darkly, cruelly satisfied when he whimpered in fear. "Where are the Twi'leks being held?"

For a moment, he didn't answer her. She twisted his arm harder, feeling the joint dislocate with a sickening pop. He cried out in pain but there was no one around to hear his scream.

"They- they're in the storage room. Behind a metal door just down the hall!" He informed her between sobs.

She smiled, a playful lilt in her voice. "There, that wasn't so hard."

She brought her hilt down on the side of his head, and he fell to the floor — dead or unconscious, she didn't care. Val blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, barely sparing the mess she left behind a glance and continued forward.

Strangely, she didn't encounter any other kind of security as she progressed along the corridor. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, always keeping her second sword within reaching distance. It felt odd having full use of her limbs; she half expected to turn and see Anakin with his devil-be-kind smile right beside her.

At the end of the corridor, she came across a large steel door. Without a patch of rust or dent on it, it was the only thing in the building that was seemingly new. Beside the door was a control pad; she stepped toward it and tapped the screen. It flared to life, immediately requesting a digit pass code. Val sighed, biting her lip in thought. Below the panel was an outdent in the wall, clear against the otherwise smooth steel. Curiously, she lifted a dagger from her boot and wedged it under the metal sheet, lifting it off. Beneath, she found a labyrinth of colourful intersecting wires.

She threw the panel down and crouched by the wires, placing her sword down beside her. Without a manual of some kind, she was forced to resort to the age-old 'red wire bad, blue wire good' technique. She traced the path through the inner mechanics and found two cables that continued through the wall into the metal door — ironically enough, they were neither red nor blue. Val contemplated for a moment, before shrugging and cutting them both. Instantly, the door began creaking open.

Val hummed at her dumb luck and stood in the middle of the enlarging gap, her sword back in her grasp. Slowly, the fluorescent lights in the room flickered on. Val stared in shock.

There were at least two dozen women and children, covered in dirt and grime, all with a manacle around their ankles leading to a central clamp. They looked up wearily when Val entered, afraid. The women pulled the children closer to them, shielding them while Val slowly walked into the room. No one made a sound, as though afraid to provoke whoever this stranger was.

Val finally found her voice, sheathing her sword. "Don't be afraid. Your village sent us, I'm here to take you home."

There was complete silence until one elderly Twi'lek woman stood, speaking for the rest. "Who are you?"

"My name is Val. Gorra Senka sent a Jedi and myself to eliminate the raiders and to get you all back to your families." Val explained, her palms turned up in a show of peace. A ripple went through them when she mentioned their leader's name and the existence of a Jedi. One by one, they all stood.

Val smiled, "First, let's get these chains off."

Val made quick work of severing all the links; Anakin could melt the cuffs loose later. In the interest of swift movement and order, Val arranged all the captives into a line with the children protected in the middle. She eyed the two ends of the line, worry setting in.

"Does anyone here know how to use a sword?" Val questioned, holding her short sword in front of her. For a moment, no one spoke up. Val sighed, she hadn't really expected any of them to know how to fight but it was worth asking.

"I do." A voice called from the end of the row. A young woman stepped out and walked towards her. She was Val's height, with long green lekku and auburn skin. She couldn't have been much younger than Val, barely grown.

"What's your name?" Val asked.

"Mirez Cacodi." She answered, straightening with pride.

"You've trained with a sword before, Mirez?"

She nodded, "When I was younger, a soldier from the Republic passed through our village and he taught me the basics. I want to join the fight, to protect our village, to stop the war."

"That's a lovely dream." Val smiled slightly, remaining silent about the fact that it would never be more than that — a dream. A thought fizzled at the edges of her mind but she couldn't quite grasp it in the midst of the fight to come.

She held her short sword out to Mirez. "Okay, all you need to do is guard the rear of the line. All of the assault should come from the front but it's just a precaution. Can you handle that?"

Mirez nodded, gripping the hilt until her knuckles turned white. She walked back to the end of the line and Val watched her go, dread settling into her stomach. She shook it off and focused. Anakin would hopefully have breached the armoury by now which means they had a slight window of opportunity to potentially escape with no resistance; but when was she ever that lucky.

"Everyone stay behind me and no matter what happens, stay together." Val called, forming the head of the line and leading them out into the hall.

She traced a different path through the facility, adrenaline racing through her bloodstream. The halls were still eerily silent and it unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

Suddenly, a loud thud sounded and then a man skidded across the floor out from a perpendicular hallway, hitting the opposite wall; unconscious. Val paused, quickly peering down the corridor he had slid out of. Loud commotion sounded from the direction; she could see the silhouettes of yelling men, and the unmistakable whir of a lightsaber.

"What was that?" Someone asked fearfully from behind her.

Val shot a reassuring smile over her shoulder, "That, would be my Jedi."

Val pressed forward past the man and along a different hall, purposely avoiding where Anakin was having his fun. The Twi'leks followed dutifully behind her, frightened but intent on escaping. Val was working under the assumptions that all paths led to the exit, and that Anakin would somehow meet them there.

The corridor finally expanded into a large forum, natural light pouring in from rafter windows. Smiles broke out amongst them, the possibility of freedom closer than it had ever been.

Suddenly, a terrified cry sounded from the end of the row. Five raiders had entered the room.

"Everyone, outside. Run!" Val yelled, holding her ground with her blade in hand while the scared Twi'leks streamed past her. Once everyone was behind her, Val began slowly retreating into the open space where she could fight to the best of her abilities.

She exited the building, the sunlight warming her back instantly. The five men were slowly advancing on her. She stood tall, her blue lightning eyes daring them to attack. A figure appeared in her peripheral, and she turned her head slightly to see Mirez, Val's sword gripped shakily in her hands.

"What are you doing?" Val asked worriedly, her eyes flickering between Mirez and the gathered raiders.

"Protecting my family." She replied, her shaking voice betrayed her faux confidence as her green eyes clouded in fear.

Val didn't have time to tell her to run when the raiders surged forward. Three of them converged on Val whilst the other two, realising Mirez was the lesser swordswoman, attacked her.

Val gave herself over to the rhythm of violence and, in two steady movements, ducked under the first one's slash and pierced his back. Before he even reached the floor, she moved on to the next.

Between swings and slashes, she lost precious moments looking over her shoulder to make sure Mirez was still alive. The young girl didn't look like a warrior, but she certainly had the heart of one. Refusing to back down, holding her ground against the onslaught with self-taught skill — the Republic would be foolish not to accept her into their ranks after this. Val felt an odd ripple of pride.

Several times, her distracted state resulted in a near miss; a cut bloomed on the side of her neck from an untimely dodge.

More raiders were pouring out of the building and joining the fight. Where was Anakin? Val cut each one down as soon as they entered, but she was struggling to guard the Twi'leks while also keeping herself alive. It was a strange instinct, to now be responsible for protecting others from danger rather than only herself.

Suddenly, an explosion sounded from inside the building, casting a glowing red shadow on the rocky ground. Val shielded her eyes, panic flaring in her chest when the support started to crumple. Anakin rolled out the door and landed in a crouch a moment before the inside collapsed in a cloud of ash.

Relief spread through her, and she shook her head with a smile. When Anakin turned and saw her, he grinned. They ended up back-to-back, slashing and dodging and fighting like they were two bodies sharing one mind.

"What happened?" Val asked over the ringing of steel and plasma. With Anakin at her back, her muscles seemed to rejuvenate. New energy seeped into her bones, reinvigorating her swings.

"I blew up the engine room." Anakin replied nonchalantly, throwing a raider into a wall using the Force.

Val paused for a moment in shock, before an over-arm attack had her moving again. "You what? What happened to the armoury?"

"They were right next to each other. It seemed like a good idea at the time." Val laughed in disbelief, and yet it conscribed to Anakin's brand of mayhem perfectly.

The two were forced apart when one raider tried to grab her arm and she flipped him onto the ground instinctively, impaling his chest. Val panted from exertion and from the heat of the inferno consuming the building, wiping the sweat from her brow. She turned just in time to see Mirez fall.

A raider crept up behind the distracted Twi'lek and in one motion, pierced her abdomen with a sword. Mirez froze, looking down at the lodged blade like she couldn't comprehend what had happened. Then he jerked the blade and she crumpled to the ground.

Val thought she may have screamed. She threw her own sword like a spear and the man fell instantly. Val was at Mirez' side a moment later.

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Val knelt in a pool of blood, bunching Mirez's shirt up and pressing against the wound. Anakin watched her from the corner of his eye, saw the earth stained red, and understood — he kept the raiders back, killing them with even more ferocious blows.

Mirez was shaking on the ground, tears falling down her cheeks. The bleeding wouldn't stop. Val tried to block the wound, muttering obscenities and prayers in every language she knew but the bleeding wouldn't stop. Mirez weakly lifted her hand towards Val, who held it tightly — as though she could tether her soul to her fading body.

"My- my sister." Mirez mumbled, her chest barely rising as she struggled to voice her last words.

"Your sister?" Val repeated, her voice shaking.

"Aes- Aeshao..." Mirez trailed off, her tears falling to the red earth.

"Aeshao'nya?" Val asked, dread in her voice as grief craved a hole into her abdomen.

The soft smile of sisterly love bloomed on Mirez's face when Val spoke the younger girl's name. Her eyes fluttered closed. They didn't open again.

The world went quiet. Her tears wet her cheeks as she gently placed Mirez's hand over her torso, covering the wound that cost her life. She shuddered when a weight fell on her shoulder.

Anakin stood beside her, the raiders dead behind him. His eyes passed between Val and the child who sacrificed herself to save her family. He saw the emptiness on her face but didn't know if she wanted comfort or quiet so he said nothing. After a long moment standing in drying blood, he sighed and knelt beside her.

"Val." He said gently, waiting until she turned to him. His voice died in his throat when he saw her. He had beheld her covered in blood before, seen her revel in the violence, looking like a warrior queen; but when she turned to him, bloodied with tears streaming down her cheeks, he fell speechless.

A broken sigh left her lips and she looked behind her at the remaining Twi'leks, all staring with varying degrees of shock at the body of their friend.

Val swallowed, her throat burning like a column of fire was consuming her words. "We need to get them home."

"Val-" Anakin said again, reaching a hand towards her but she shook her head, silencing him.

"I'm fine." Her words convinced no one; not herself and certainly not Anakin.

She turned away from the proof of her failure and went to retrieve her sword from the corpse of the raider who killed Meriz, but an anger so hot it scorched her skin spread through her suddenly. He was spluttering on the ground, clinging desperately to life. Her face darkened in rage and she jerked the blade loose only to drive it into his chest once again, the force so great the earth seemed to split. He fell still, his wide eyes turned to the sky.

Val spit on his corpse and sheathed her blades. She met no one's eyes, refused to acknowledge their pity or their judgement — it was both an act of defiance and shame. She turned back to the body of a girl she might have called friend, if only they'd had more time and sighed, the dried tears almost renewed.

She couldn't leave her here, so far from home.

Val sniffed and bent down, cradling Mirez's still-warm body in her arms. Her blood seeped into Val's shirt but she didn't care. She turned to those gathered behind her, the devastation barely masked on her face. Anakin looked like he wanted to offer to carry Mirez for her, but this was a weight Val had to bear on her own.

Anakin read the resolve on her face and nodded, "Alright, let's get going."

All but one walked out of the compound, leaving the smouldering building to burn and the corpses to decay. They began the long trek back to the Twi'lek village. Val hung at the back of the group, moving like a ghost through the world. Mirez was now cold and heavy in her arms, but she barely noticed the weight — it was nothing compared to the weight of her own chest.

Val couldn't even pretend to have eulogistic thoughts or prayers for Mirez; she had hardly known her. All she knew was that Mirez had been a dreamer, walking through life like it was an endless ocean of possibility. She was a protector and an idealist with only a vision of the way the world could be. In a twisted way, Mirez reminded Val of her younger self. A naive girl with a saviour's heart, determined to change the universe for the better. It was cruel in the sense that Val's dreams had died with someone else's blood and Mirez's dreams had died with her own.

As the fire lights of the village appeared in the distance, her feet scuffed to a stop. She would have to tell Aeshao'nya that her sister was dead — that her only family had died in Val's arms. A shuddered sob left her lips and she sank to her knees. Why hadn't she told Mirez to run. How could she be so stupid? Val should have known this would happen, had known it would happen.

But she had been scared — in some way or form. She hadn't wanted to be held accountable for the Twi'leks deaths should she fail. She hadn't wanted her first good deed to end in the wrong blood being spilt. If someone had been there, fighting beside her, then there would be responsibility shared among them. Val had assumed that person would be Anakin — instead it had been a fellow child, determined to save everyone with no thought for themselves. But now Mirez was dead, and the blame still lay with Val and Val alone.

Black boots appeared before her. She didn't need to look to know who it was.

"I should never have let her fight." Val murmured, the despair and hatred evident on her face. She didn't know who she resented more; Mirez's killer or the man who wielded the blade.

"What have I done?" She whispered. Her ribs splintered, the fragments puncturing her lungs and halting her breath. Val was certain that if she looked down, she would see a gaping blade-shaped wound in her abdomen, with all the oil-like blackness of her heart seeping through.

"You did everything you possibly could have." The standard response for the grieving when a soldier is lost. It was all Anakin knew to say — but she wasn't a soldier, and Mirez certainly hadn't been. She was a child that the Republic had failed with their neglect... that Val had failed.

Anakin knelt before her. He reached a hand out and softly pushed her hair out of her face, behind her ear. Absently, she leant into his touch — grateful for any kind of contact that proved she wasn't alone.

Anakin held her for a moment before slowly taking the body, carrying her gently. He looked down at Val, her fingers curled like she could still feel Mirez in her arms.

"Come on," He maneuvered his weight and held a hand out to Val. She looked up at him with glass eyes and stared at the offer of comfort silently. He almost thought she would reject it in favour of her own self-loathing — that was what he would have done, wallowing in his own grief and failure.

Val pressed her sleeves to her wet cheeks for a moment, before reaching for his hand. Anakin pulled Val to her feet and, tied together by choice this time, they silently continued on.

When they neared the village, a small figure began running towards them. Val faltered; before she could yell for them to stop, one of the other Twi'lek women wordlessly moved forward to intercept. She took Aeshao'nya's hands and blocked her view of Val and the body, allowing them a chance to slip past. Val breathed her thanks and lowered her head, shamefully glad to not have to face the young girl while her sister's blood coated Val's skin.

Gorra Senka met them at the entrance, his relieved smile falling to despair when he saw the weight they carried, the body in Anakin's arms. He quickly ushered them into one of the huts, out of view from the children, and motioned for Anakin to place Mirez down on a mat.

There was a moment of silence for the dead.

"What will happen to Aeshao'nya?" Val asked, her eyes never leaving Mirez. Val had borne witness to enough bodies to know that it was too soon and yet the colour seemed to be draining from her skin, from her lekku. Leaving only the gray, lifelessness of the afterworld.

Gorra Senka folded his hands into his sleeves, a sad smile on his face. "We are family here. She will be alright."

A small piece of Val's grief lifted at his words, at knowing that Aeshao'nya would never be alone.

Something compelled her to speak, to ensure everyone knew Mirez died a hero. "She died protecting the others. I couldn't get to her in time."

Gorra Senka nodded, "She was always selfless, ever the dreamer."

With that, she left the hut and emerged into the sunset air whilst Anakin stayed behind to discuss the raiders. The villagers had already set a celebration in motion. With the return of their loved ones, the sombre blanket that hung over the village dissipated. Music began playing and children were dancing around the fire, giggling joyfully. She saw the same woman from before kneeling in front of Aeshao'nya, talking to her quietly. Tears started falling and Val turned away, unable to bear the sight.

Val turned and walked to one of the seated women, "Do you know where I can wash this off?"

The women looked between Val and the blood stained shirt and nodded, standing up. She led Val out of the village and back into the woods. They walked silently for a few minutes, before coming upon a grove of green trees and a stream. The moon illuminated the area, casting soft light on the gently moving water.

"Will you be alright on your own?" The woman asked, a worried look on her face.

Val smiled, in hopefully a reassuring way. "I'll be fine."

She nodded and walked back the way they came, leaving Val alone with the sound of flowing water and her own thoughts. A part of her knew she should have told Anakin where she was going, but the fear that he wouldn't have allowed her to go alone was enough to hold off from informing him. She just wanted to be by herself, unobserved, for the moment.

Val didn't truly know why she was so distraught. It wasn't like she hadn't seen death before. Usually, she was responsible for it. But this responsibility weighed on her in a different, much more painful way. It was a certain heaviness upon her soul she couldn't seem to lift.

Mirez was young. Mirez was innocent. And Mirez was dead, because Val had let her stay beside her. When she had heard how the girl wanted to fight, to protect others, to stop the bloodshed, it felt like looking back in time. Back when Val also desperately fought for the safety and freedom of all people, before the war had even begun.

Val was a fallen dreamer, shunned by her younger self and fearful of who she would grow to be. Mirez was never given the chance to find out. Absently, Val removed her swords and coats and placed them beside her, leaving on only her ruined white blouse, pants and boots. She sat by the water's edge, letting the frigidity seep into her skin and awaken her senses from the sleep she was under.

She sighed and reached for her swords, wanting to cleanse herself of the raider blood before she washed away Mirez. She ran her finger over the blade, where her own reflection met the sky. Something glinted off the steel and she cocked her head in confusion. Val looked back in the direction of the light flash and gasped in shock.

An instinctive combat roll was all that saved her life as a dagger struck the earth where Val had been a moment before.

A figure leapt down from a tree, landing in a crouch. They wore a black hood and a lower face mask; distinctively a bounty hunter. They held two more daggers in their hand, poised to strike.

"I am really not in the mood for this." Val muttered, sighing in annoyance.

Her eyes flickered between the hunter and the swords — judging the distance and how likely she was to be stabbed. Screw it, she skidded forward on her knees towards her blades, her hand outreached for the hilt. She barely managed to roll to the side, pain spreading across her shoulder when another dagger whizzed past and lodged itself in the ground to her right.

Val huffed, grinding her teeth together. "Fine. Two can play at this game."

She pulled twin daggers from her boots and threw one with deadly accuracy. The hunter somersaulted to the side as the dagger embedded into the tree.

They locked eyes, each silently taunting the other. Val smirked slightly and like intended, the hunter aimed their dagger at Val's face. Steel flashed like lightning as Val deflected it to the side with her own blade and hurled one back in return, clipping the mysterious assassin on the cheek.

With the daggers now laying discarded around the glade, Val rose calmly and took two steps forward. She kicked her swords up with her feet, catching them in her hands.

"You're out of ammo," Val remarked, twirling her blades.

The bounty hunter laughed, drawing a scimitar from a hidden sheath on their back. "Not quite."

Val chuckled as the two began circling. "What do you want?"

"Money. You and that Jedi in the village are worth a lot of credits." The bounty hunter was female, Val noted. There was a strange lilt to her voice that Val almost recognised; but then again, she had shaken hands and traded blows with just about every criminal in every sector so it was entirely plausible that this was an old acquaintance returned for recompense, now that Val no longer had the Reaper backing her.

"Who put a bounty on us?" Val inquired, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. There was no telling whether this assassin was working alone, or if she had an accomplice that was currently hunting Anakin. Val needed to finish this quickly; she wouldn't, she couldn't, lose someone else today. Especially not Anakin.

The woman shrugged, "No idea, not like it matters. Credits are credits no matter where they're from."

Val said nothing, watching the bounty hunter's movements. A small mistake was all Val would need to win. The woman positioned her feet like a practiced sword fighter, stepping almost identically to Val — Almost.

Like clockwork, the hunter misstepped and Val struck.

The hunter, caught off guard, was slow to retaliate — inadvertently giving Val the high ground. Their blades clashed, each pushing against the other to see who would buckle first.

They battled across the glade, meeting each blow with one of their own. Val managed to land a strike to her upper thigh but received one on her arm in return. After long minutes of neither being able to overpower the other, they broke apart, panting.

Val's eyes narrowed as a plan began forming. They were evenly matched in strength and speed but not skill. It was evident that the unnamed woman's primary weapon was not a sword, and that factor was a weakness Val would happily exploit.

Val surged forward, the other woman raising her blade to defend, but Val skirted around her at the last second and landed a strike on the back of her legs. The hunter huffed but didn't fall, like Val had expected. Instead, she pivoted and landed a dual blow — the sword arm slashed into Val's chest while the other hand struck her across the face.

Val grimaced and lost her balance, falling backwards. She twisted to avoid her spine getting the brunt of the force. Instead — though decidedly not for the better — her temple made contact with the hard earth and white exploded across her vision. She groaned, barely rolling to the side in time to avoid being impaled. She kicked the hunter's feet out from under her and landed an identical, but much deeper, blow to her attacker's chest, sending her tumbling into the frigid water.

Masses of blood tainted the clear water as she came rushing to the surface, gasping for breath and glaring at Val with a newfound intensity. Her hood floated away down stream, revealing red braided hair that clung to her skin like a halo of fire.

Steel glinted beneath the water and Val wasn't quick enough to avoid the dagger as it struck her calf. Val faltered as blood streamed from her leg. She barely had time to jerk the dagger free and toss it to the side as the hunter charged.

Val narrowed her eyes. She let her grow nearer, before falling backwards at the last second, catching the hunter on her feet and kicking her into a tree. The hunter groaned, a deadly amount of blood soaking through her shirt, and sat up. Her mask came undone. Val's body went slack as she lay on the ground and stared at the face of her attacker.

"You." She whispered, pain coating her words. The woman looked at her strangely, before the same recognition flared across her face. In that instant, both of their missions changed.

Val's face contorted in rage as she sprinted forward. True fear entered the woman's eyes as she stumbled to her feet and managed to aim a nearby stone at Val. Perhaps by fate or the woman's own skill, the rock made contact with Val's newly acquired stab wound. Her legs buckled and she fell to the ground, her chin striking the earth as the edges of her vision darkened from blood loss.

In the precious seconds it took her to stand again, the hunter had disappeared — leaving only a trail of blood in her wake.

Val breathed heavily, faces and names and memories flashing through her mind. This was fate's cruelty taken to unfathomable heights. It all felt preemptive, planned. Like at last, after four years of empty, broken nothingness, the universe had pulled tight the strings of fate wrapped around her throat once more.

Her memories of that day on Krownest, when her Master had been cut down in front of her, were drenched in blood not only for what had been spilled on the snow, but for the distinctive red hair of the Sith who had killed him. She had never forgotten that face, the detached disinterest when she had muttered 'target eliminated' into a commlink. Her Master had meant nothing to that woman, to the Sith. And neither had Val — she was a padawan. No one of importance. An oversight was all that had saved her life that day.

Val's past and present were colliding like a star turned supernova. Her lightsaber returned to her, and then not two days later she came face to face with her Master's murderer. Was she supposed to believe it was all a coincidence? No. It had to be a sign from some cosmic force with a sick sense of humour. It was unfinished business, delivered back to her as a second chance. A chance for vengeance or forgiveness, she didn't know yet.

Her heart knew that her Master would beg her to forgive; would remind her that anger was not the path of the light and that ruining her own soul would not bring his peace. But she was no longer bound by light and dark, and if she chose revenge it would not be for his sake, but for her own.

The adrenaline had subsided, and her leg began burning. Clenching her teeth, Val stood up. She only placed weight on her non-bleeding limb as she hobbled over to her coats. She pulled the azure coat over her shoulders, wincing when she brushed against the gash across her chest, and then used the brown garment to apply pressure. A deep breath entered her lungs and she closed her eyes, trying to overpower the pain — both physical and emotional. She sniffed and went to collect her knives and swords that had been lost during the battle. They were still coated in red, but now she didn't bother to wash it away. They would be covered in blood again soon enough.

Finally, she turned to look at the way back. She had been gone much longer than intended, Anakin was likely furious. Or perhaps, he hadn't even noticed. Somehow, the latter hurt more. She shook her head and began the slow, agonizing stumble back to the village.

The light of the bonfire had reduced to a smouldering red glow by the time she found her way out of the drywood. Nearing the village, she saw a figure reclined under a tree. The figure stood when she emerged from the tree line, their dark hair moving in the breeze.

When Anakin hadn't been able to find her, he assumed the worst. The worst wasn't finding her injured or kidnapped, but finding her simply... gone. He supposed she had fulfilled her promise, they had walked out of that compound together and now she had disappeared — off to the life of freedom and lawlessness she so craved.

He shouldn't have felt as betrayed as he did. By all logic, he shouldn't care about her at all outside of being grateful she had rescued him. He shouldn't be trying so hard to return her to the Order. She was a pirate with no care for anyone but herself — or so he had wanted to believe.

Anakin had never seen emotion more raw and devastating than when Val kneeling beside that dying girl, the blood splatter mixed with tears — in that moment, he would have done anything to make her smile, to lift the heaviness from her eyes. But he had lost soldiers, friends, family before. He knew it was a weight that could only be shouldered by yourself and perhaps those closest to you. And now, away from the Republic and the pirates alike, he didn't know what they were to each other. If they were anything at all.

There was no sense in dwelling on it now. Whatever semblance of a connection they may have had was gone now. He knew now, in his heart, that he was the one who had betrayed her; he had betrayed her trust and her friendship and if she was gone... he deserved it. She had never expressly told him what she truly wanted, but he saw it on her face every time they watched the stars passing by. She wanted freedom and he had caged her. How could she ever forgive him? He wouldn't forgive him. Anakin sighed, shaking his head. He was a Knight of the Republic — he had to keep reminding himself of that, of the fact that he was losing his path over a pirate.

He hated feeling so confused — it left him searching for a physical manifestation of his emotions that he could simply silence with a slash of his lightsaber. He was a Jedi, he should not be attached to someone like her. But Anakin had never been deterred by the existence of rules before, and he couldn't seem to stay away.

And neither could she.

Anakin's instinct when he saw her appear out of the drywood, a shadow against the moonlight, was relief — followed closely by annoyance. He stood and waited for her with the intention of scolding, when he noticed she was limping. Val was clutching something to her chest and moving slowly towards him. He started walking towards her, concerned.

He thought she may have smiled when he drew nearer, before a grimace flashed across her face and she tripped forward. He managed to catch Val under her arms as she fell against his chest. He sank to his knees, entirely supporting her weight as he held her away from him to see the cause of the injury. All he could see was blood. Her blouse was torn open and coated in dark red that ran down to her leg, where another deep wound resided.

She pushed herself up with whatever strength she had left, still pressing her coat to her chest to staunch the bleeding. Anakin held his hands out, ready to catch her should she fall again.

"What happened?" He asked, worry evident in his voice. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight despite her attempts to shrug him off.

Val shook her head and continued her pained steps towards the village, now reluctantly with Anakin guiding her. Her voice was raw and scratched as she replied. "A bounty hunter. Count Dooku put a bounty on us."

"A bounty," Anakin repeated to himself. "What makes you think it was Count Dooku and not Rolfe?"

Val stumbled over a loose stone and Anakin caught her before she hit the ground. He sighed and lifted her into his arms in much the same way he had just hours before, ignoring her mumbled protests. She was cold and heavy in his arms, as though the pain was physically weighing her down, but he barely noticed.

They reached the tree he had been sitting under and he placed her down, the trunk supporting her back. His head angled towards the village, hoping they had medical supplies available — he had never truly appreciated the convenience of Republic technology until his access to it was cut off. Val gripped his wrist, still strong despite the blood loss. To have made it all the way back to him, whilst bleeding so profusely, was a staggering feat in and of itself.

She grimaced as she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a medkit. Anakin chuckled; reckless and volatile, they were two sides of the same credit. Though Val actually made an effort to plan ahead whilst Anakin relied on his improvisation.

"Did you expect injuries on this trip?" He asked, sitting back to let her work.

"When is one of us not bleeding?" She replied, her words obscured by the needle she held between her bruised lips. He was silent as she sewed her torn skin together; the ruined flesh stitched mishappening together to form a poor imitation of the original that likely would never heal to be what it once was. She barely winced each time the needle threaded in and out of her skin and he found himself wondering how often she sat alone with her wounds.

"I know it was Count Dooku." There wasn't any doubt in her words, her eyes.

He nodded, not about to dispute her but curious as to her reasoning. "Why do you say that?"

She sighed, tying off the thread. "Because he sent the same Sith who killed my Master after us."

For a moment, Anakin said nothing, torn between concern and anger on Val's behalf. He knew the pain of losing a parent, a father figure — knew what emotions looking their killer in the eye could bring back from the abyss. He had spent years after Qui-Gon Jinn's murder at the foot of Obi-wan's bed, afraid that the only other person he had left would disappear too, leaving him terrifyingly, inescapable, alone.

Val's eyes didn't hold that child's fear, instead, in her, he saw a reflection of his older self.

"Did you kill them?" Anakin asked quietly. The savage half of his heart that was not wholly Jedi hoped the answer was yes — the broken child half of his heart prayed the answer was no. He had chosen vengeance that day on Tatooine, and whilst he wouldn't take it back, he also couldn't say it had healed him in any way — his mother was still gone, left to rot on that forsaken desert world. And he was still teeming with rage, unable to find an outlet for the wildfire in his veins. So he had thrown himself into his studies, became the most skilled Jedi he could to ensure no child would lose their mother like he had. Not if he could help it.

Val looked down at the blood staining her clothes, as though she could tell which dark splotches were her's and which ones were her attacker's. "I don't know. She escaped, but there was so much blood...."

She. Anakin's thoughts immediately turned to Asajj Ventress, the only apprentice to the Sith Lord he knew of; but Ventress was not one to be easily forgotten, or confused with another.

"So what do you want to do?" Anakin asked, giving her the choice he should always have given her. His own insecurity had held her to him, had made a choice that was not his to make. It had taken a shameful amount of thought to realise that she had escaped Rolfe's imprisonment only to end up trapped once again, this time by him.

She turned to answer him when he interrupted her suddenly, "Before you say anything, I'm sorry."

Val raised an eyebrow, an invitation to continue.

"I should never have forced you to come with me, or bound us together, or tried to bring you back to Coruscant. I realise now, I was doing it for myself and I-" He paused when he noticed Val staring at him with a small smile on her face. He went silent, quietly embarrassed and waiting for her to either absolve him or turn him away. He hoped for the former but knew he deserved the latter.

"I forgive you, Anakin." He sighed quietly in relief at her words, a smile on his lips.

"And I understand why you did it." She said, leaning back against the tree trunk. She sighed, looking up at the stars. "And maybe you were right."

He hadn't expected that — what could he possibly have been right about? He waited in silence for her to collect her thoughts before she continued.

"I'll return to Coruscant with you," His mouth opened in shock, but she didn't give him a chance to process, "But I have conditions."

He raised an eyebrow, a now playful smile on his face. "Oh, do tell."

"I'll return to Coruscant but I'm not going back to the Order, and I won't be kept there indefinitely." Val said, the uncompromising hardness in her eyes leaving no room for debate. Anakin nodded, finally accepting her choice. In truth, when he had seen her cradling the girl's body, he had realised she could possibly never be a Jedi again. The attachments Val created so easily would only hold her back in the Order's eyes; after a lifetime spent living from one emotion to the next, it would be nigh on impossible for her to relearn their brand of disassociation. His eyes came back to her as she continued.

"And you're not calling all the shots anymore. We work together." Together. Her words echoed in his mind. That vow had been the simple promise of two people afraid to be alone — now it would be the binding of two people quietly desperate to not be parted.

"I suppose I can allow the odd objection to my flying every now and again." He replied with a grin. She gave him an unimpressed look and he laughed, relenting.

She shook her head with a smile, before sighing. She held her next words close to her heart, right beside the place she had carved to hold Mirez's memory.

"Mirez was a child... and I couldn't save her. But there are thousands more like her throughout the galaxy that we can help. On our way to Coruscant, we help people. That's all I want, Anakin." She said, conviction burning in her chest. This was why she had wanted freedom so desperately; a way to redeem herself for a lifetime of pain. She wouldn't make the same mistakes she had made today, the mistakes she had been making her whole life — she wouldn't be afraid. Not anymore.

"So... what? You want to run around the galaxy saving civilians and bringing down criminals?" He asked, an intrigued grin already forming on his face.

She smirked, the newfound purpose restoring her strength and her heart. If she turned at that moment, in the distance, perhaps she would have seen the shimmering silhouette of a robed man with a proud smile on his face.

"That's exactly what I want to do."

author's note:

hello everybody!! not much to say this time around, but what did you think ??

we will be seeing more of the mysterious attacker soon and please give me your thoughts about the Twi'lek sisters !! ik it's sad, I did feel bad about that... apologies my dudes

I'm not sure when the next update will be, I'm not having a good time in my personal life rn so just bear with me for a while, love you all !!