𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 ⸺ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞.

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1207 local hours. Year 7963 (14 BBY).
Origin Tree, Kashyyyk.

⚡︎ ⁺. ◍ 。

𝓥ÆMAS' ARMS WERE starting to beg for rest as they were climbing what should be the sixth rope in a row. They progressed in silence, mainly focusing on not falling to their death. As she managed to climb onto a rock platform, Cal's voice suddenly pierced the silence:

"Do you think the Empire would've come so hard after Kashyyyk if we hadn't intervened?"

Catching her breath, Væmas put a string of hair behind her ear as she looked at him, intrigued.

"Jedi are supposed to be symbols of hope," he explained with a guilty look, his head low, "but I let the Inquisitors here. The Second Sister is looking for me, and now that your escape is known, for you too."

"Cal." She responded softly, making him look at her. "You have given them hope. These fighters needed to be inspired, to have something to fight for, and now they know the Jedi are alongside them. Maybe the Empire will go harder on them, on us, but we will resist harder. You don't have to be alone anymore. We don't."

He nodded slowly, a glimmer of gratitude in his light eyes, that Væmas caught herself contemplating. Shaking her head, she forced herself to look away, focusing on the next challenge ahead. The columns of rocks were separated by a few meters, large enough to jump between.

"How do you do it?"

She turned to him after hearing his question as she was about to take a flying leap.

"How do you always stay so strong?" He developed. At this instant, he looked so young, becoming for a second the lost padawan he once was. Væmas wondered if he was always this open to strangers. She herself carefully had revealed very less about her past to any of them, in case the bounty for her suddenly became interesting.

"Don't stop fighting, and you will be too fast for your problems to get you." She answered after a moment of reflection, before turning and leaping into the air to reach the next rock.

"Don't stop fighting." Rich coming from you, Eason. If you really were strong, you wouldn't have given up escaping instead of waiting for someone to come save you.

She clenched her jaw, silencing the little voice inside her head and bringing her attention back on her surroundings.

They progressed like this for what seems liked hours. Without BD-1 holomap, Væmas would have had the impression of going in circles. Until finally, they reached a wooden deck that led onto another platform. Væmas remembered seeing lots of these during the Clone Wars, used as shelters by the Wookies.

At their left, the Origin Tree looked much closer, and the view before them was...

Suddenly, the sight of a way too familiar ship covered the landscape, making Væmas' fingers fly towards her blaster and Cal's to his lightsaber.

The ramp of the ship lowered as it was standing still in the air, revealing a female Dowutin wearing an Inquisitor suit, who was oh too familiar to Væmas.

"You." Væmas spit out, feeling her body stiffening with anger, that she tried to suppress.

"What's this?" The deep voice of the Ninth Sister sounded. "The Bracca scrap rat and the Sullust laboratory rat playing Jedi? What a match made in heaven."

Cal had not ignited his lightsaber yet, and as their opponent had not drawn her either, Væmas was limited to tightening her grip on her blaster.

"I told the Grand Inquisitor you would not be stupid enough to show your face here again, especially after we wiped out that feeble resistance." She continued, turning her head towards Cal with visible contempt. "Two for the price of one...love it when I'm wrong."

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐬 Where stories live. Discover now