𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐈𝐗 ⸺ 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭.

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0456 standard hours. Year 7963 (14 BBY)
Stinger Mantis, Gamor Run.

VÆMAS.

⚡︎ ⁺.  ◍ 。

        𝓕OR A FEW seconds, Væmas expected to hear Cal's chuckle, to see his held hand to help her get up. But only the roaring of the ship echoed her short breath. Her body jumped back up as she stormed into the cockpit, the words escaping her mouth at a frenetic rhythm: "No, no, no, we have to go back! Cal is still in there!"

"What are you on about, kid?" Greez asked, turning his pilot seat towards her.

The guilt surged again, a weight crushing her heart, making her hold on to Greez's seat, the air escaping her lungs before she could form an answer. It should have been me. "He...he stayed behind." She blew out, a hand on her stomach. "He sacrificed himself so we could escape. We...we can't leave him there!"

Cere and Greez exchanged a gloomy look before the woman looked back at Væmas, her eyes expressing what Væmas already knew. "The Imperial fleet probably already jumped to hyperspace, Væmas. Going back would be pointless, and at worse, it would mean risking more of us being captured. I'm sorry."

Væmas shook her head, letting herself fall in the co-pilot's seat, and rested her hand between her hands. This could not be it. Not like this. She felt Cere lay a hand on her shoulder, making her raise tears-filled eyes towards her mentor, who sighted deeply. "Captain, contact Senator Organa. Maybe he can help us find Cal."

Væmas swallowed her tears and jumped from her seat in direction of the holotable, clutching onto that tiny bit of hope she had left. Greez and Cere joined her more calmly, and soon the blue holographic image of the Senator appeared. "Master Junda." He began, joining hands in front of him. "I am pleased to see you well. Did the mission on Christophsis succeed?"

Væmas grabbed the table, feeling her stomach twisting. Not now. She ignored Cere's glance as the latter answered as neutrally as possible. "The weapon was destroyed, but we were unfortunately unable to prevent civilian casualties."

Organa's face darkened, and he closed his eyes for a moment. "This was entirely my fault, Senator." Væmas intervened without her even meaning to, as the Senator's glance fell on her. "I'm the only one to blame."

Væmas did not know what she looked like at the moment, but the expression of pity on Organa's face indicated she probably was miserable. "Those losses are most tragic, but by destroying that prototype, you prevented hundreds, maybe thousands more."

"There...is something else, Senator." Cere started on a hesitating tone. "On our way out of Christophsis, we were ambushed by an Imperial fleet. We managed to escape, but..." (she glanced sideways at Væmas, who kept her eyes down on the controls below her.) "...but Commander Kestis was captured."

"You can imagine how sorry I am to hear that." The Senator said, slowly shaking his head. However, I cannot jeopardize the entirety of my forces for a single rescue missi—"

"Wait!" Væmas interrupted him, her voice strangled. "Please, Senator. You helped the Mantis Crew when I was captured and brought to Nur. There has to be a way to know where he was taken. Him and I may be the only Jedi left. I...we can't just abandon him."

Organa seemed to hesitate, before sighing, running a hand on his face. "There might be someone who knows where your friend was taken. An informer I previously mentioned, Fulcrum. If my sources are correct, they are currently on a moon called Raada, in the Outer Rim. Once you arrive, go for the only settlement and ask for Ashla." He marked a pause before continuing, his tone graver. "But understand that I cannot be implicated in this. If you choose to pursue this way, I'm afraid you will be on your own."

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐬 Where stories live. Discover now