56

Saedii was on her cruiser.

The bridge came into view around her – muted and too bright all at once. The screens were on but white. Blank. Seats were left empty and unstaffed. She was entirely alone.

Hyperspace stretched infinite in the windshield. But even so, the usual sound of the hyperspace drive was muted. In fact, it was eerily silent. The usual beeping of droids and computers, the hiss of recycled air – it was all missing.

Low lights glowed along the floor. It was dark in here. She could only just see the faint outlines of the computers and consoles around her.

A lone figure stood at the end of the bridge. Standing alone before the long, wide window. Silent. Watching.

Saedii frowned. What was going on? Where was she?

Was she...dead?

"Hello?"

The figure ahead of her didn't move. Saedii reached down for her lightsabers only to find that they were gone. She was unarmed, dressed in the clothes she'd often worn around the Temple as a youngling.

Cautiously, she approached the figure at the end of the bridge.

"Hello, little one," a deep voice rumbled.

Saedii's eyes pricked. "Master?"

Plo turned to face her. He was dressed as he had been the last time she'd seen him, in the same dark robes and cloak that he had often worn throughout the Clone Wars. His own lightsaber was clipped onto his belt, but despite being armed, he was calm. Serene. As peaceful as he always had been.

She had an urge to hug him. To make sure he was real.

But Master Plo was standing with his arms crossed. His eyes looked over her, strangely observant.

Before Saedii could decide whether or not he was real, he suddenly asked, "Tell me, Saedii. What are your greatest strengths?"

"What?" Saedii frowned. There was something strangely familiar about this. She looked around, suddenly unsure. Perhaps she wasn't dead after all. Maybe this was all a memory?

"Your strengths," Plo continued patiently. "List them."

"I thought Jedi weren't supposed to be vain. Wouldn't listing my strengths be a sign of vanity?"

An eye crinkling smile lit his face. "This is not a test, little one. Humor me, if you could."

Saedii rubbed self-consciously at the back of her neck. "Uh...I guess I'm pretty fast."

"Speed is always an asset," he agreed. "What else?"

"I don't give up easily."

"Tenacious. Indeed."

"And I try to be nice to everyone. To be open-minded."

"Yes, kindness and empathy are essential."

She tilted her head, looking at him more closely. There were faint lines of worry beneath his eyes. "Master, I don't understand. Why are you asking me this?"

He held her gaze. "I want you to understand just how powerful you are. Tenacious, kind, empathetic – you have embodied the most vital tenants of our Order."

Something light and happy flooded her chest. She smiled.

"But you have other strengths, as well. You are righteous. Courageous. Fierce. A true defender of the peace."

Her expression faded into a frown.

One of his hands rested intently on her shoulder. "I want you to remember these traits, Saedii. You are more powerful than you know."

He was scaring her. Why did she need to know how powerful she was? What was wrong?

"You do not yield," he continued. "You endure, no matter what the Force places before you. You have never shied from a fight."

"Master, please. Why are you telling me this?"

His hand tightened on her shoulder. "I sense disorder in the Force. Something dangerous lurks."

She thought of Kalth – of his lightsaber flashing for her face. The darkness that followed. Maybe he had killed her after all.

"The Clone Wars may be coming to a close," he said with finality. "The Battle of Corilynth may be our last."

"Corilynth?"

But that was over a year ago. Before Order 66. What did that have to do with her now? With death?

Suddenly, the bridge came alive around her. Where before there had been empty seats, now they were filled with Republic personnel – pilots and mechanics. Admiral Kempe stood in his usual place at the helm, arms clasped behind his back as he tracked their progress. Clone troopers marched past. A navigation droid spoke quietly with R7.

What was going on?

"I sense we have many dangers waiting for us on Corilynth. I want you to be prepared," Master Plo said.

She remembered, then. They'd had this conversation on the flight to Corilynth – before Order 66 had been given. This was a memory, after all.

"General."

The two turned, finding Wolffe waiting respectfully behind them in his grey-and-white armor. His helmet was under his arm. Expression stern. Exactly as he'd looked on the eve of the Chancellor's order.

His scarred gaze drifted to Saedii and softened marginally. "Commander. The troops are ready."

"My thanks, Wolffe. Tell the boys we should be approaching Corilynth's airspace within the hour," Plo said cordially.

Wolffe saluted before sneaking a wink in Saedii's direction.

Saedii wanted to tell them that they needed to stop. To run far away from Corilynth. They were needed on Coruscant – should be helping Anakin Skywalker and Mace Windu as they faced off against Darth Sidious. Perhaps they could stop the fall of the Republic if they left.

"You should prepare as well, my young Padawan." Master Plo looked down on her. His expression was warm, as if the sight of her waiting and ready for orders made him proud. "I sense you will have need of your lightsabers in the battle ahead."

Wait, Saedii tried to say.

But the bridge faded around her until she was once again shrouded in darkness.

Her head hurt. Pain split down the left side, above her temple. It throbbed in time with the slow beat of her heart.

There was another pain, as well. A sharp, burning pain in her leg. It felt like her flesh was on fire. Like the skin had melted all the way down to the muscle and bone beneath. She tried to scream but her voice was gone – buried beneath the weight of her semi-conscious body.

Both hands were bound before her. Binders dug into the thin skin around her wrists. Too tight. A cold, firm surface pressed against her body, her face. It was too hard – uncomfortable.

She was alive.

Even as disoriented as she was, she knew this with certainty.

But how? The last she remembered was Kalth's lightsaber arcing towards her head. An explosion of pain. She should be dead.

A tight band wound around her thigh. Too tight. It hurt. But Saedii recognized it for what it was.

A tourniquet. Someone had patched her up. Kept her alive.

Nearby, a quiet presence waited. Their low breathing mixed with the hum of an engine. The only sounds in the otherwise quiet space.

Saedii tried to open her eyes but they were heavy. She murmured – the only sound she could make.

The person beside her tensed. Then, there was the prick of a needle in her neck. The pain a ghost compared to the rest in her body.

Darkness fell again.

The next thing Saedii knew, her body was being lifted off the ground. Slung over a firm shoulder, which dug painfully into her gut. Making it hard to breathe.

Light footsteps trailed down an exit ramp. The body beneath hers shouldered her weight well, though the sound of labored breathing quickly filled Saedii's ear the further they walked. Close by, the sounds of a turbulent ocean roared as it beat against a rocky shore. Thick, salty air pressed against her skin, tasting of rain and brine.

A door opened ahead of them. The person beneath her went rigid.

"What do you think you're doing?" an angry voice demanded.

The sound of that voice sent a thrill of fear straight into Saedii's chest. Her heart seemed to skip a beat.

Krell.

Heavy footsteps marched in their direction. The person holding her took a hesitant step backwards, but otherwise held their ground.

"She should be dead," Krell demanded in outrage.

"Our Master wants her alive." It was Kalth's voice that rumbled beneath her ear. Without the mask.

"Lord Vader will never know. I'll kill her right now."

"I have already spoken with him. He is expecting her."

Krell growled in rage. "You called Lord Vader behind my back? My orders –"

"Are insignificant compared to those of our Master."

A weighted silence fell. Beneath her, Kalth's shoulders had gone tense. Bracing for whatever Krell would say in retaliation. The ocean roared around them.

But Krell only laughed. "Do you really think the girl will comply? That she will accept her role? She will resist."

"She won't," Kalth insisted. "The Jedi has a weakness. With assistance from Dr. Hemlock, we can exploit this."

"It will never work."

"We'll see."

Kalth's loping gait resumed. Saedii sensed Krell's eyes on her, as heavy as a cruiser resting on her shoulders. After a moment, it fell away and the sounds of the ocean faded to silence.

The crisp sound of Kalth's boots down a long hallway was the only sound. They were abrasively loud, like blaster fire. That dull throbbing in Saedii's head began again, creeping down the back of her neck and into her shoulders. She groaned.

He stopped, slinging her down from his shoulder and into his arms. Once she was steady, he continued walking – purposeful on his way. Low voices passed close by but quickly cut off as Kalth appeared. A strong sense of fear filled the air.

Under Saedii's ear, Kalth's breaths slowed. His shoulder felt warm beneath her cheek, but alien. Too firm. She tried to pull away but her head only rolled uncomfortably off his arm.

To Saedii's intense surprise, he stopped to adjust his hold. Her head lulled back against his shoulder and the pain down the back of her neck died down.

"We're almost there." He spoke softly. So low that even Saedii almost missed it, though she was inches away. "I have a medical droid waiting."

Medical droid?

What the hell was going on?

A door hissed open and the air suddenly grew terribly cold. Antiseptic flooded her nose, stinging. The gentle beeps of nearby machinery filled the silence.

Kalth came to a halt, lowering as he deposited Saedii onto something soft. Stiff sheets met her hands. A medical bed.

"Hello, Commander," a droid spoke nearby. "You sent for me?"

"Her left leg. The tendon has been severed, and the artery."

"I can repair it."

A hand tentatively touched her forehead, tracing the place where the throbbing in her head hurt worse. "She may have a concussion as well. Some broken ribs. She'll need bacta. And stitches in the wound above her brow."

"It will be done."

That hand was surprisingly gentle as it ran down the side of her face. One finger traced down her jaw, towards her neck where it hooked around a thin strip of leather that hung there. The weight of the torrinite necklace shifted against Saedii's skin.

Kalth's hand quickly disappeared. Like he'd been shocked. "Lord Vader wants her on her feet by the end of the week."

A pause. "That timeline may not be sufficient –"

"You'll do it or you'll be decommissioned."

The droid gave a distressed beep. "Yes, Commander. She will be ready."

Kalth hesitated. She could sense his gaze on her. Watching.

"Give her a sedative once you're done. A strong one," he said, finally. His voice was tight. "Enough to keep her unconscious for another day."

"That is not necessary," the droid said, puzzled. "With the bacta, she will not need –"

"Give it to her anyways. She'll need her rest."

If it was an odd request, the droid didn't say so. "If that is what you wish."

Cold plastic slipped over her nose and mouth. Cool air filtered into her mouth, tasting heavily of bitter metal. After two long breaths, it pulled Saedii straight back down into the dark.