There are crimson bloodstains on his armor. Perhaps that should be more concerning, Jak thinks, but this is hardly the first time he's had tal on his beskar'gam, and it will certainly not be the last.

The only thing special about these haastale is the miserable being whose tal it is.

One of the miserable worms who dared call themselves his owner is dead, choked to death by his own whip.

And now, Jak cannot stop thinking.

He hadn't expected it to be this hard, seeing a master after so long; he hadn't expected the memories to be so thick, to cloud his mind like fog, too thick to chase away. He had thought this would help, thought skira would make things right, but instead he just feels… hollow. Angry, and hurting, and tired, and hollow.

He sits in the corner of the medbay, staring at his gauntleted hands-earlier, he'd watched a spot on the wall while the memories played like holos across his vision, but after the jetii Tano had panicked, he'd looked down at his hands, knowing he is partially at fault for her chaab. He hadn't wanted to meet anyone's gaze, not that he expected anyone to wish to look at him. (He shouldn't be bothered by the fact that the jetii is panicking because of him. She is a jetii, he doesn't care about jetii.)

(He's still twisted up by it.)

He clings to the stillness, the mission-silence, the ice, wraps it close until it burns, until the shatter-sharp edges of the ice are cutting deep into his palms, and he doesn't let it go, because he thinks if he lets go now he will break. Ice is cold, ice is strong, but ice is brittle, and ice breaks. Ice shatters into a million glitter-dust fragments, sharper than diamond motes, and he cannot afford to break.

Not yet. Not while the Mand'alor needs him. Not while the jetiise want him to fight.

So he stays still, stays silent, stares at his hands and the blood and does not move, he does not shatter, hardly even breathes, because stillness is safety and safety is survival and survival is everything.

...

There are so many people in the mess that Miik thinks if Anakin hadn't promised him food he would definitely go find a corner to sit in until everyone left. But he is hungry , and most of the soldiers aren't paying attention to him (and Miik hadn't been aware, before, that humans all looked so much alike, and all so weird ).

He clings onto Papa's hand and they follow Anakin past a few tables over by the wall, where Anakin hefts him up onto a bench and pulls out a chair for his papa before sitting down himself. Their table is empty except for three human soldiers, who are looking at Miik and his papa in a way that Miik decides he doesn't like.

"Uh, hey General," one of them says, "What the hell?"

Miik's papa stares down at the table, but Miik stares at the human because he has red hair and the brightest colors on his armor that Miik has ever seen . He doesn't even know what's going on and he is hungry and he isn't sure whether to be nervous or excited but Anakin still feels amused so this is probably fine.

"It's a long story, Brii," Anakin says. "Can you go get us a couple plates of food, just whatever we have?"

The soldier starts standing up, but one of the others, a human with longer hair, makes him sit back down. "I'll get one of the shinies to do it," he says, smirking a little. "Hey, '43!"

Miik watches, fascinated despite himself, as another soldier comes over and the long-haired one orders him to go get food, which Miik is definitelyhappy about, except he's confused how this all works . He rests his chin on his hand and tries not to scratch at his neck. Was that human a slave?

No. Anakin's answer is loud in Miik's head and Miik pins his ears back, annoyed.

"You're too loud ," he grumbles, and his papa frowns and the other humans do too.

"'43 is just new to the battalion," Anakin says, like that makes any sense. Miik doesn't even know what battalion means. "The boys like messing with the new recruits."

"In our defense," the third soldier says, "they are really easy to fool." He has no hair, at all, and a lot more markings on his face than the other humans. Miik thinks humans don't make sense . How is he supposed to know what they're thinking if their ears never even move? How do they even hear anything?

I'm hungry , Miik thinks, and Anakin turns and raises an eyebrow at him.

I got that idea, kid, we're working on it.

Miik can't help being worried that there's not going to be enough food, or that there won't be any at all, but Anakin told him there would be and he believes Anakin, so he keeps staring at the humans because they are weird and he tries to be patient, to pretend he's in his corner and he can just be still and quiet and no one will pay any attention to him.

...

The kid is cute.

Like, okay, he's Zygerrian, which is… weird, if Brii's being honest, and also more than a little, well… he's a bit nervous about this, because Zygerrians, he's seen the Captain and the Commander's scars and the way they panicked in the tunnel and-but the kid is kriffing adorable.

So of course Brii has to pull his sketchbook out and start sketching him. He grins at the kid (ha, now his vod'e and his traat'aliit can't call him kid anymore, with this vaar'ika scampering around the ship), then looks at General Skywalker, because he's kriffing doing the thing. The thing the Captain and the Commander always do. "General, sir," he says, and General Skywalker frowns. "You're doing the thing."

The General blinks. "What thing?"

His ori'vod starts laughing, says, "Brii, probably not the time-"

"The mind-thing the Captain and the Commander always do!" Brii grins bigger, adds a few more lines to his sketch. "Where they start arguing inside their heads and then yell at each other out loud and nobody has any kriffing clue what's going on." Except Kix. Kix always knows. He has no idea how. "And it's really confusing and also really funny-"

"Ori'vod, shut up," Tup says, rolls his eyes. "We've got to at least pretend to be professional, here."

Jesse snorts. "What the kriff have you been drinking, Tup? We're Skywalker's battalion, we aren't professional-" and he closes his mouth firmly when the General glares.

"Kriff you, Jesse, I take offense at that! I'm very professional-"

"Senator Amidala," Brii says, smirks.

The General does a remarkable impression of a fish, his mouth gaping open and slamming closed multiple times in a row.

"You should sketch that," Tup suggests, and Brii tilts his head to one side, considering.

"He looks like a fish."

The General gets even more fishlike at that, and Jesse starts cackling. "You do, General, that's kriffing impressive."

Brii thinks he just might have a new caricature idea. From the look on the General's face, he's thinking the same thing, and not liking it. "Brii, I swear, if I find caricatures of my face on this kriffing ship-"

"Oh, don't worry, sir," Brii says, with a bright, obviously not innocent smile, "I'll make sure you don't find them."

...

Miik is… Miik is confused, but he's thrilled . There's so much smiling , and laughing , and Miik isn't totally sure everyone is being friendly but it all feels amazing .

It just gets better when the other human comes back with three whole platefuls of food that Miik has never seen in his life, but all of which look better than gruel. Woah , he thinks, and Anakin laughs. "Thanks, '43."

Anakin pushes an entire plate of food in front of Miik and Miik's eyes go wide and he can only stare . This is not real , definitely not - all of this has been too good to be true, but this . He reaches out, hesitantly, waits until Anakin pushes another plate in front of his papa.

All of this food is for him?

"Go slow, kid," Anakin says, and Miik does, because he's a little afraid if he moves too fast he'll wake up and it'll be gone. His papa is eating already, chewing carefully, small bites, and when Miik glances at him he smiles a little.

"Eat."

Miik grabs onto the best-looking thing on his plate, something meaty that smells amazing , and tears into it before remembering he's supposed to go slow but wow . He didn't know anything in the world could taste this good. "Papa, you should try this!" he says, excitedly, and his papa's mouth twitches up just a little more.

"I will," he says, gruffly, and Miik takes another big bite. He is definitely imagining all this but he doesn't even care . The humans, Tup and Jesse and Brii, are all staring at him, and he still doesn't really like that but as long as they keep feeding him, they can be as weird as they want.

...

Miik's mind is full of awe, and Anakin can't stop himself from grinning at the feeling-he knows Tup and Brii and Jesse are placing bets on something, can tell by the way the three of them are laughing and whispering together, but at this moment he can't bring himself to care.

"Speaking of Rex and Commander Tano," Jesse says after a moment, "where are they, anyway?"

Anakin winces a little and bites his lip, hesitates. "Ahsoka is…" and he frowns, checks on the bond. "Asleep, apparently. She got overwhelmed," and he knows his men know what he means.

"Is the Captain okay?" Brii asks (and kriff the kid, if he discovers offensive pictures of himself as a fish anywhere on this ship he's going to murder Brii), looking worried. "When we were scouting, those two guards knew him and the Commander, and he panicked."

Anakin nods, winces again. "Yeah, I know. From what I picked up from Snips, those two guards were personally assigned to her and Rex in Kadavo. But Rex is-I think he's doing okay."

"Except for the fact where he carried the Commander," Kix announces dramatically from the end of the table. "Kriff him, I'm going to make good on my threat of severe bodily pain."

Tuck, wandering over, rolls his eyes. "Like he could've done anything else, vod."

Kix makes a face, flops onto the table on his back and starts pulling off his upper body armor. "Kriff you, Tuck."

"You okay there, Kix?" Anakin asks, raising an eyebrow, amused-he probably shouldn't be, the medic is stressed and exhausted, but it's kriffing funny.

Kix responds with a rude gesture that makes Jesse whistle and applaud, and Anakin rolls his eyes. "You kriffing left me alone with kriffing mando'ade, Skywalker, and none of them would kriffing let me treat them!"

Anakin raises his hands in surrender. "Blame the Mand'alor, not me."

"And kriffing Jak Ordo won't kriffing leave," and Kix violently flings a pauldron into the wall and grumbles something very rude in Mando'a under his breath. "Skywalker, can you please-make them listen to me?"

Anakin's rather distracted by the way Miik's flinching away from the noise, the gesture, and he says quietly, "Kix, get it together." It's alright, kid, he's not throwing it at you. He's just frustrated and tired.

Kix sits up, lets Tuck pull him off the table, moves to the bench, and then his eyes land on Miik and he swears. "What the kriff, did you adopt another youngling?"

"Another-what?" Anakin stares. "I didn't adopt Ahsoka, the Council sent her to me-"

"So you're adopting this one?" That's Brii.

Unfair. Anakin makes a face, gestures rudely at all of them. "Shut up, all of you."

"Yessir," Tup says, saluting, "Right away, sir-"

"That means you, Tup," insufferable clone troopers, why the kriff. He points his fork at them all, vaguely threateningly, glares. "I'm putting all of you on dish detail today."

Brii looks vaguely horrified, Kix just makes yet another one of the gestures he's picked up from the Kyr'tsad, and Jesse rolls his eyes. "Only Rex can do that."

"Wanna bet?"

...

"Guys, General Skywalker can do what he wants," Brii says, and Miik takes a bite of something soft and moist and sweet and wow .

"Oh, Brii, you're so quaint," Jesse says. Miik peers at the bald human's head, wonders if it would be rude to ask what his markings are and why he's hairless. Probably. And it would mean not eating more of whatever he's chewing on at the moment. (He already feels so full and he doesn't remember feeling full like this before.)

Brii opens his mouth, and even Miik can tell he's offended, which is funny , and when no sound comes out, Miik can't help but giggle .

Which makes everyone look at him. Oh no. He swallows the food in his mouth, ears twitching. "Sorry," he mutters.

"Oh my little gods," Jesse groans. "It's fine, vaar'ika ."

Miik smiles, tentatively, and everyone grins. Which is weird. Humans are weird.

Why do they talk that way, Anakin? He takes another bite of his food. I don't get it .

They think they're funny , Anakin says, which doesn't really help. Miik leans into his papa's shoulder and eyes the rest of his food narrowly. He doesn't feel so good because his stomach is starting to hurt, so he doesn't want to eat more, but he's afraid there won't be more if he doesn't. Take it easy, Miik . There's plenty of food and plenty of time.

Miik doesn't even know how that's possible , but both Anakin and his papa give him sharp looks when he reaches for his plate again, so he just pulls his hand back and starts thinking about other things so he doesn't think about food. He's good at that.

I think I like them , he thinks, bites his claws a little. He wonders if the other human, Rex, is anything like this. Is this normal for humans? He doesn't know, but he definitely thinks this is fun.

...

Kix is miserable.

Normally, he appreciates his talent for empathy, the way he instinctively feels a person's emotions, but the medbay today has been packed to the brim with too much- he knows exactly why the Commander panicked, especially since she got stuck with the task of trying to talk Jak kriffing Ordo down, since she's the only one he listened to when he'd attacked Crys.

Crys Rodarch, thankfully, isn't in the medbay, because that would kriffing make this entire kriffing day even better.

"What's the plan for Grievous?" he asks, after a moment, because while half the battalion seems to have forgotten the real reason they're on Utapau, Kix hasn't. "Have we heard back from the rest of the scouts?"

Skywalker grins sheepishly. "Um. I should probably ask Obi-Wan about that."

"Are you kriffing kidding me," Kix says flatly, and then he sighs and rolls his eyes. "You aren't going to let Kenobi fight Grievous, right, General?"

"Well," and the shifty look on Skywalker's face is all the answer Kix needs.

"Oh, kriff you, why did I even ask," and he groans. "Why do I have to do everything myself?"

"I ask myself that a lot," Skywalker says. And grins.

Kriff him.

"I'll have to talk to Scratch. Maybe between the two of us we can keep him shipbound," he mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"You need to sleep, vod," Jesse says, and yes, okay, he's right, but he can sleep later.

(The Force isn't very pleased with that.)

"I'm fine, Jesse," Kix grumbles petulantly. He is, really.

"You keep swearing in front of the vaar'ika."

That's not the point. "And?"

"How much Force-healing have you done?"

Kriff Jesse for knowing him too well. "Not that much?" he tries, and even Brii glares, like they all know. "Okay, fine. More than I should've. But-"

"Kix," Skywalker says, groans. "How many times do you have to get Force burn before you learn?"

He shrugs a little. "I ask myself that a lot. About you Jedi."

"I'll Force you under," Skywalker threatens, and Kix rolls his eyes.

"Kriffing try me, General. I'm not in the mood, and I'm hardly weak-minded. Also," and he grins a little, "even Kenobi couldn't Force me under after Kamino."

His General hadn't known that, and the Jedi looks… distinctly unamused by that.

...

Zarak knows that what he doesn't know what's going on, the best thing to do is keep his head down and not ask questions. Miik has just started understanding that, but it seems his hard work on that has gone out the window, and Zarak blames the Jedi. So there's food, and banter, and it's all fine , but Zarak knows he is on thin ground and he doesn't want to lose his son to all this.

Miik's head is on his shoulder and he seems amazed by everything, and Zarak allows himself to be grateful they gave him and Miik so much food - but he won't thank them. That would be admitting a debt, something owed, and he knows better.

"You need to go back to the barracks," the one called Jesse says, sharply, and Zarak reaches for more of his food. He doesn't care how much these soldiers talk (although he is almost, almost amused by their reaction to Miik), he just wants to eat and take what he can get. He doesn't even know where he's expected to sleep tonight, Alari is in the med bay entirely too close to people General Skywalker says he doesn't trust, and his son is clearly very excited about this Jedi they've met.

Zarak thinks most of the things he counts on are moments away from crashing down. A part of him is surprised it's taken this long. Mostly he just knows the best he can do for himself and Miik and Alari is be quiet and take what he can, while he can.

Before reality settles back in.

...

Brii has a hard time understanding exactly what Kix's aversion to sleep is-it must be a Jedi thing, he muses, seeing as how Generals Kenobi and Skywalker and Commander Tano do it all the time on missions. Still, the medic looks worn to the bone, and the way he'd flopped out on the nearest flat surface and laced every sentence with multiple swears is just a further indication. So Brii stands, says, "Come on, vod, we'll need you in the medbay if the mission goes bantha-shit."

Kix makes a face but sighs, because Brii is right and knows it. "Fine," he grumbles, "but comm Scratch and get him over here. Somebody needs to look after those two," and he nods at the vaar'ika and the older Zygerrian.

"I can do that," Tuck says, and General Skywalker snorts.

"Not kriffing likely, Tuck," he says, rolls his eyes. "You've been on your feet just as long as Kix has, and I didn't promote you so you could turn into a self-sacrificing di'kut."

Kix makes a face at that.

"Is is the Force that does that?" Brii asks, curiously, extending a hand so he can pull his vod off the bench. "Make you a self-sacrificing di'kut, I mean. Since it seems like most Jedi are." And then he stops, realizes what he's just said. "Kriff, that was so rude, I'm sorry-"

General Skywalker laughs, and keeps laughing, shaking his head, smiling almost fondly. "You're fine, kid."

Brii bristles at that. "I'm not the kid anymore," he complains, "you've got an actual kid running around now-"

"You're still a kid, ori'vod," Tup says gently, and Brii sulks. Tup is supposed to be on his side. "Sorry to disappoint."

Brii sighs, huffs a little, grumbles. At least he's not a shiny. His eyes land on his sketchbook, and the rough sketch of the vaar'ika, and he smiles a little, leaves Kix to grab the book. "Hey, vaar'ika."

It takes the vaar'ika a minute to realize Brii's talking to him, and then his eyes go wide and his ears flatten against his head a little. He doesn't say anything, though he glances first at his buir, then at the General (yup, definitely going to be the General's new padawan, he's so going to win that bet), and Brii takes that as an invitation. He walks around to the other side of the table, shows the kid the sketch. "What do you think?"

...

Without thinking about it, Miik lifts his hand toward the drawing, wanting to touch it, fascinated - but that would be rude, probably, so he pulls his hand back to his chest and just stares .

That's definitely him , on that page, and Brii made that picture of him, and Miik doesn't know why but it's really nice . And Brii says "What do you think?" and Miik can barely believe the question. Why does it matter what he thinks - it's a picture Brii made.

"Woah," he says, and Brii laughs. "You made that?"

"Yeah," Brii said, smiling widely. "Because you were cute."

Miik blinks and looks at his papa, who flicks his ears dismissively, like just accept it, kid . "Thanks?" he says, staring at the drawing because looking at Brii is intimidating.

"You can keep it, once I finish it," Brii says, and Miik glances at his papa again, and his papa's hackles are up. Miik knows the rule, you don't let people give you things. Gifts mean you owe someone something, and when you took things from the masters they would always remind you.

"That's okay," Miik says hesitantly, scooting closer to Papa. "I really like it though."

Brii looks confused, and kind of frowns and leans back. Miik just stares at the picture and tries to smile at Brii because it is a really amazing thing, that Brii made.

...

Brii doesn't mean to be hurt, but he is, in a way. "Oh," he says, softly, tries not to sound disappointed, and he backs up a little. "Uh, okay, right," and he hugs his sketchbook to his chest protectively, nods a little. "Right."

He hadn't planned on offering the sketch to the vaar'ika, but the kid had looked so excited and he's really kriffing cute and well, he hadn't really thought about it, just… done it. But the kid doesn't want it. Okay, that's… okay, it's not like he'd expected the kid to want it, it's fine, it's all fine. He tries a smile, fails a little, turns it into a grimace, and backs quickly around to the other side of the table, to Tup and Jesse and Kix and Tuck. "Come on, vod," he says to Kix, "let's go back to the barracks."

He can finish the drawing there, and make sure Kix actually sleeps. And then he'll work on the drawing of General Skywalker the fish. He knows the General, at least, laughs at his caricatures, so… so that's good, that'll be good. It's okay that the kid doesn't want it. It's fine. He'll make it be fine. After all, this isn't the first time someone didn't want his drawings, lots of people don't like pictures.

Tup looks worried, he thinks, though he's not sure why.

...

Miik isn't good at human faces, but Brii looks unhappy , and Miik knows the rule, you can't take gifts, but Brii looks really disappointed and Miik wants the picture. He doesn't know what he'd do with the picture, but he wants it.

"Um… Brii?" he says, and his papa lets out a very soft growl, quiet enough that Miik thinks the humans and their tiny ears probably can't hear it. Miik winces, but Brii just looks so sad and Miik loves that picture. Brii looks at him, raises his eyebrows, and Miik scratches his ear. "I really want the picture," he admits.

"Miik!"

"But I can't have it!" Miik says quickly, because he's not breaking Papa's rule, he's just explaining . "Papa has a rule about gifts, so I can't-"

" Miik ," his papa says, more urgently, and Miik stops because Papa's ears are shifting a little bit back, hackles still up. He's messed up something, hasn't he? He didn't mean to, but at least Brii looks less upset now, more confused, but Papa does not look pleased and Miik somehow knows his papa is scared . Which is probably Miik's fault. He didn't mean to mess all this up, he just wanted to fix it.

Jesse gestures to the other two, the one with the cool markings, Kix, and the one called Tuck, and they leave while Brii kind of hesitates and sits down. Miik glances at Papa again because he suddenly doesn't know what he's supposed to do. There isn't a rule that quite fits this.

...

Anakin doesn't want to be angry, because he understands, he recognizes the signs, he remembers his mom's rules, but-this is ridiculous, and Zarak is making this all harder on Miik, and… "I'm not a kriffing slaver," he snaps through gritted teeth. "I was born a slave, Zarak, I know the rules, my mother taught me them, but you're making this harder on your son. It's a drawing, no strings attached, you don't owe us anything."

Zarak looks angry, and also afraid, and he snaps out, "Leave Miik out of this."

Which is so stupid, and Anakin clenches his jaw tighter, because all of this-it's all too much, too close to home, and he really doesn't want to lose his temper. Not here, not now. So he balls his hands into fists, closes his eyes, swallows hard. "Brii, Tup, get them back to the medbay, get them bunks, get Scratch or someone over here to treat them," he orders, stands slowly, lets his breath out carefully. "I need to find Obi-Wan and Bo-Katan and mission-plan."

Anakin? Miik asks, careful but concerned, and Anakin thinks the kid understands enough to know this is about more than just a picture, but not more than that. Where are you going?

The kid is worried. Anakin sighs, can't help unbending enough to smile. "I'm just going to find Obi-Wan, that's all."

"Kenobi," Zarak says flatly, obviously familiar with the names, from the holos probably. He doesn't look pleased.

"Kenobi," Anakin agrees, inclines his head.

"Can I come?" Miik asks, eyes wide and unsure but curious, and also like he's nervous about letting Anakin out of his sight.

"Miik!" Zarak, Anakin thinks, looks pissed.

Miik shrinks a little, his ears flattening against his head, but he doesn't relent. "Please, Anakin?"

Anakin does not want to let the kid out of his sight. But he also doesn't really want to get into a fight with Zarak here, not least because the Zygerrian is injured, and it would make Miik panic. "Your papa needs medical treatment," he says gently, neither a no nor a yes, just a statement of fact.

Miik nods, looks uncertain. "But you aren't coming with us." He tilts his head to one side, adds, I don't want you to leave.

Anakin closes his eyes, sighs quietly. "I do have to introduce you to Obi-Wan," he mumbles tiredly, because it is too late for this shit, he's tired,kriffing Windu waking him up way too kriffing early. "Alright, fine, c'mere kid," and he bends down and scoops Miik up into his arms again. The kid smiles widely, though he still looks unsure, and kind of… melts into his arms, and Anakin can't keep a grin off his face. "You are too cute," he says under his breath.

...

Tup comes over, like he expects Zarak to actually go with him for medical attention when his son is going off with a Jedi to meet General Kenobi , like this is supposed to be fine . So kriffing what if Skywalker was a slave and "knows how it feels," he's not leaving his son alone with him.

The Jedi destroyed his people, and they take Force sensitive children, and Zarak is not going to receive medical attention while he doesn't even know where Miik is .

"I'm coming too," he says, sharply, and the clone stops, frowns.

"No, you aren't," Skywalker answers, with a barely-there edge to his voice. "You need bacta. Kix will kill me if I let you."

Miik's ears swivel straight up. "I want him to come," he says, grinning a little. "That would be fun ."

Zarak smiles at his son because unfortunately, it seems Miik really likes Skywalker, so he has to pretend this is somewhat fine.

"He needs medicine , Miik," the Jedi says, narrowing his eyes at Zarak. Zarak twists his lip, bares his teeth a little, but also bares his throat. He doesn't mean to do that, but it's probably wiser.

"I have gone longer without it," Zarak says, which is true. No one wastes bacta on slaves. Zarak has been whipped many times, and he's used to dealing with it. "I'd like to meet General Kenobi too," he says, smiles at Miik again. Skywalker scowls, and Zarak is pushing things, but he thinks Skywalker cares about his son, which means a small measure of safety.

Skywalker glares at him for a second, and Zarak drops his eyes to the floor instinctively.

"Come on, Anakin," Miik says, cheerfully, and Zarak smirks a little. Yeah, come on, Skywalker .

He is not going anywhere without Miik, and he thinks there's only so far Skywalker will push him on this with Miik here. He's not going to trust anyone else with Miik's safety, however much they seem to care.

...

Anakin will be talking to Zarak about this. Later. When Miik is not bouncy and beaming in his arms, his thoughts rippling with excitement. "Fine," he says shortly, "but when you collapse I'm sending you back to the medbay, where you should be."

"If," Zarak corrects, and Anakin rolls his eyes. Whatever.

"Tup," he calls, and the long-haired trooper meets his eyes, a question inherent in them. "I want Cody and a full squad of vod'e he trusts absolutely over here with Scratch. Domino on shifts with them."

"Medbay?"

Anakin nods. "Elle and anyone she trusts can rotate in, but the only mando'ad allowed unsupervised is Elle. Don't kriffing let Kix back in the medbay until he's slept it off, clear?"

"Yes, sir," Tup says, snaps out a salute, and he and Brii hurry off. Anakin nods, satisfied, and then he starts for the bridge.

He keeps up a running mental commentary to Miik as they go, pointing things out, speaking out loud just often enough that Zarak knows what he's doing, and the Zygerrian is angry but there's only so far either of them are willing to go with Miik here. Anakin has to bite his lip to hide a smirk. Payback.

Sure enough, Obi-Wan and Bo-Katan are on the bridge, Utapau in glowing blue between them, the scouted sinkholes marked in red, the as-yet-unscouted ones yellow. "Nice of you to join us, Sky-" and Bo-Katan's voice cuts off as she turns enough to see. "The kriff, Skywalker, you can't just bring ade into a war briefing!"

"Obi-Wan, this is Miik. Miik, meet General Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master."

Miik flinches a little, ears flattening, says tremulously, "Master?"

Anakin winces. "Not that kind of master," he explains quickly. "It's just a title. It means he's really good at the Force." The kid still looks unsure, feels scared, so he says, "He's not going to hurt you, promise. He's the one who rescued me when I was a slave."

Obi-Wan chuckles. "One might say you rescued yourself, Anakin."

He smirks. "Well, yes, and I blew up a droid control ship in the process."

"Really?" Miik asks, eyes wide and round.

Anakin nods, very seriously. "You see, we were on Naboo. The Trade Federation had taken over the planet and the Queen had to flee-"

"Perhaps now is not the best time," Obi-Wan interrupts. Anakin makes a face. He likes telling that story.

...

Obi-Wan isn't sure how Anakin has managed to pick up a Zygerrian boy, but Obi senses the child is a sensitive. Wonderful. What a complication. The Force is almost laughing at this.

"It's nice to meet you, Miik," Obi says, raises an eyebrow at Anakin because they will be talking about this later. "And who's this?"

The other Zygerrian, darker grey than Miik, and Obi-Wan tries to keep his heartrate steady (release it to the Force, this is fine).

"He's Miik's father," Anakin says, and the Zygerrian twitches his ears, which Obi-Wan knows means the Zygerrian is deeply uncomfortable. "Zarak."

"Pleased to meet you, as well," Obi says smoothly. Bo-Katan snorts and crosses her arms, and Obi thinks this is not an ideal situation. "Anakin, I would love an explanation for this, but perhaps later? We have plans to make. It seems Grievous has not caught wind of all this," - which is, frankly, a miracle - "and we've located him here." Obi sweeps his hand and pulls part of the map up, a couple dozen clicks away. "There's a lot more of the CIS officers with him than we anticipated."

...

Anakin grimaces, nods. "Right." He glances down at Miik. Are you staying here or do you want to go back to the medbay?

Miik frowns. I don't want to go back there. The magic wasn't happy.

Fair enough. "What does the Council say?" he asks Obi-Wan, stepping forward to look closer at the holo.

Obi-Wan sighs. "Kill Grievous, capture as many CIS high brass as possible, and do it fast."

Obviously. Grievous will do everything in his power to escape, the instant he knows they're here. "Killing Grievous won't be easy," he remarks, frowns. "What're we looking at down there?"

Bo-Katan steps forward, manipulates the holo to zoom in on the sinkhole, places orange indicators in a few key spots. "Antiaircraft here, here, and here, though I think these defenses are manned by the sentients who live here. Looks like the natives are under occupation by a droid army-Grievous and his officials are down on the lower levels."

Anakin hums thoughtfully, adjusting Miik in his arms. "Who contacted us with the tip?"

"It appears to have come from the native population," Obi-Wan says.

Good, that's good. "If they'd sympathetic to Republic forces, we could take an unmarked ship down, go after Grievous, bring the battalions in after we've cornered him."

Obi-Wan frowns, rubs his beard. "Grievous will certainly have sentries watching for Jedi."

"Then we make it look like we're stopping for a refuel, pretend to board the ship, sneak out and hide, have Artoo fly it out."

"We'd be stranded down there," Bo-Katan says.

He shrugs. "Just until the transports showed up. It wouldn't be long."

"It's risky," Obi-Wan agrees.

Anakin snorts. "Compared to my normal plans, Master," and he quickly soothes Miik mentally, "this is tame. And it'll work."

...

Miik doesn't really understand what's happening at all, except it sounds somewhere between dangerous and exciting, and Anakin feels a little thrilled. He keeps his eyes on his papa and keeps thinking toward Anakin. It helps, Anakin talking to him and his papa holding his eyes.

The new Jedi, General - or is it Master? - Obi-Wan Kenobi, feels like a nice person. "Yes, it might," he says, with a wry smile. "Although I wouldn't object to a better plan."

"This is the best plan I have," Anakin says. "If you want a better one, you'll need to make a better one."

Miik snickers a little and leans back. Hey, Anakin, I want to get down .

You sure?

Yeah . Miik wants to stand by his papa, and anyway, the red-haired human is staring at him and it makes Miik feel small. Which he is not , he's eight , thank you very much, and that human looks weirder and angrier than the other ones do, mostly. Anakin sets him down and he crosses his arms, edges towards Papa, and tries to pretend he knows what's going on.

...

Anakin, Obi-Wan says sharply, across their training bond, and Anakin grimaces a little, did you bond with the youngling?

It wasn't my fault! Why does everyone keep blaming him for this? For once, he didn't do it!

Obi-Wan just glares. "Unfortunately," he says, "I don't have a better plan." He looks to Bo-Katan, asks, "Is Jak going to be able to fight?"

The Mand'alor nods, though there's tension lines around her green eyes. "He was ori'ramikad, he knows how to compartmentalize."

"Good," Anakin says. "I want you and him with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, and I when we go after Grievous. We'll need you to set up a perimeter and capture as many Seppies as possible."

Obi-Wan nods. "Good idea-Cody, Kix, and Elle can coordinate the battalions. You should ready your warriors, Mand'alor."

She nods again, says, "Meet in the hangar in fifteen?"

"Excellent."

Ahsoka is jerked awake by the insistent chirping of her commlink. She frowns, blinks the sleep slowly out of her eyes; she's still tired, still shaky and unbalanced, but at least she feels vaguely calm, now. Her internal clock is off, and she's not sure what time it is, though she doesn't think she's been asleep for too long, given how tired she still feels. She would rather still be sleeping, but her comm won't stop, and beneath her cheek Rex is stirring, the sound and her own wakefulness pulling him from the sleep they both so desperately need.

I know you're awake, Snips, Anakin sends, and she responds with a few choice swears, presses the button on her wristcomm. "What?"

"I need you and Rex ready for a fight and in the hangar in fifteen," he says, almost apologetically, and she grumbles. "I'm briefing the men now, will brief you two when I see you. Hurry it up, we don't have much time."

Kriff. I don't want to, cyare, she thinks, closes her eyes again and nestles closer to Rex. He hums soothingly, runs his hands across her montrals and headtails. It's nice, feels good, comforting, feels like safety and home, but it's not enough. I'm tired.

Me too, 'Soka, but we can rest after this.

That's too far away. For a moment, she almost doesn't care that completing this mission brings them one step closer to the end of the war; she's tired of fighting this war. Yes, she's a huntress, she comes alive in a fight, but this war is so pointless and they know now it was fabricated from the very start, and so they don't even have a cause to fight for anymore. And it's exhausting. She huffs out a breath, refuses to move until Rex says, I need to put my armor on, and then she grumbles but reluctantly sits up.

And then swears. "The cracked pieces," she remembers, the parts of his armor she'd clung to with so much force (and Force), and she swallows, chokes under a sudden flood of guilt.

He's not going to be adequately protected in the coming battle, and it's her fault.

...

Rex sighs and reaches for his chestpiece, starts efficiently strapping it on. He wants to change his blacks but he doesn't have time for that so it's the backplate, then his pauldrons, then vambraces and gauntlets. The vambrace isn't much of a concern, just a little dented - he's a little more worried about his pauldron, but if it fails him, he'll be able to make do.

"It'll be fine," he says dismissively. "I'm already short a DC, so I'm sure I won't be bored today."

He doesn't think that exactly helps Soka, and he sighs, supposes he should be less flippant, he just has to not care or he'll worry because alright, they aren't the most important armor pieces, but he has them for a reason. He shields that thought with yet another sigh and reaches out, quickly, puts his hand on her shoulder. "I'm serious, Soka, I'm going to be fine . Okay?"

He stands up, pads over to grab his boots and shove them on, then his belt and kamas, slips the vibroblade he keeps under his pillow into his gauntlet, and picks up his bucket, settles it on his head. He doesn't really feel ready to go fight again, but he is ready, which is the important thing. Slower than usual, three minutes today, but that's good enough for now.

Ahsoka was ready to go already, more or less, which is fine except he shares Cody's opinion that the Jedi should really wear more armor, wear something - his Soka doesn't even bother with a tabard, which he's tried to talk to her about, but she doesn't listen. Apparently a few armor pieces would simply be too limiting for a Jedi .

...

Ahsoka doesn't entirely believe him, but she sighs, nods, hooks her 'sabers to her belt. "You better be fine," she mutters, "or we're going to have words about it."

She means it to be vaguely threatening, but she doesn't think she succeeds, considering the brief flicker of amusement she picks up from him. "Soka, you don't even wear armor," he huffs.

She makes a face at him. "It'd just get in the way."

He sighs. "My point exactly."

She shrugs, not entirely understanding, says, "Come on, Anakin's going to be mad if we're late," even though they still have somewhere between five and ten minutes to go.

They make it down to the hangar with plenty of time to spare, and unsurprisingly, Anakin isn't there yet. Obi-Wan is, though, and with him are Bo-Katan and Jak. Jak has his helmet on, and she can't help being grateful. She doesn't want to see his face.

...

Rex finds himself as grateful for his own helmet as Ahsoka is for Jak's. He thinks his face would give away too much of what he feels, the exhaustion and nerves and the way he can't help being a bit threatened by Jak right now. It's just that there are stains on Jak's armor, and Rex had seen him when he was going to kill his master, and Rex saw the body and… and he doesn't like what he'd seen.

He'd known Jak Ordo was different from himself, or the Jedi, or his vod'e , but he hadn't been aware just how different.

I don't think he's ready for this, Rex thinks. This whole campaign has been far harder on Jak than Rex had expected - hells, although he wouldn't say so, he thinks Ahsoka isn't ready for this either.

He is, somehow, and he won't complain about it (he's not, he's not ready this is just a normal battle but everything is off-kilter, has been since they arrived) because being battle-ready is good, definitely basic, beginning necessity.

I'm worried about him , Ahsoka says, and there's an impression of memory, of how Jak had felt after the battle. In return, Rex sends the image of Jak's owner's body, just a snippet of it.

Ahsoka feels stunned .

He's not safe , Rex says, not like it's a surprise or like any of this is. It's just a fact, simple. Jak might like Ahsoka, maybe even like Rex and Brii and some of the others. Jak may be powerful and have a sense of honor and duty. But Jak Ordo is not safe .

I guess not . Ahsoka sighs and leans into him a little, and he senses she's still so tired . She shouldn't be going on this mission, and Rex knows she wouldn't appreciate it but he considers talking to Anakin, asking him to make Ahsoka stay behind. He doesn't think she would listen, at least not easily, but he weighs the option anyway, seriously, shielding the deliberations from her. Ultimately, he decides it wouldn't really work, and she'd be pissed at him, so he just suggests it himself.

Maybe you should stay on the Resolute for some of this. Help keep an eye on the slaves. He's very careful to only let some of his worry bleed through, enough that she understands.

...

It's a mark of how tired and hollow she feels that Ahsoka actually considers Rex's suggestion for a moment. Sleep, watching the slaves, making sure the Death Watch soldiers don't kill or maim anyone… it sounds nice, she thinks, and that sends warning bells ringing dimly through the back of her mind. Plus, she thinks, Rex won't be here with her, if she stays, Rex will be out there with no one to watch his six, and…

And he doesn't need her there, but. But she needs to be here, she needs to be out there, fighting Grievous, she needs to be there for Anakin, and so she takes a deep breath. No, I need to fight, she thinks, and she can feel some of Rex's agitation, his worry for her. He wants her to stay.

She really probably should.

But she needs to go. She needs to be there. So she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin and turns her spine to durasteel and says, "What's the situation, Obi-Wan?"

"I think I'll wait for Anakin to get here," the Jedi Master says, and she nods. Fair enough. "This is his plan, after all."

Oh, great. Wonderful. Maybe she should stay back, after all.

...

Rex's thoughts echo Soka's own. He just loves Anakin's plans. At least they work , and they aren't as careless as they seem, oftentimes - but they are still insane , and Rex finds himself falling a lot.

You should definitely stay here, he jokes, and he can feel she's a little piqued about that, it's just- he's not sure, he thinks he's worrying too much. And he doesn't mean to be anxious, he just feels like things are out of control and he needs this campaign to make sense again.

Plans would be good. But Anakin seems determined to shave his arrival down to the last possible second he can, which is not exactly unusual. Kenobi doesn't look thrilled about it either - wisely, Kenobi is also staying fairly clear of Jak.

General Kenobi shouldn't be on this mission either. Rex sighs and draws his unmodified DC-17. He hopes they'll make planetfall somewhere soon so he can get a new part for his good blaster. At least after this battle he'll have time to go the armory and replace his damaged pieces, although that means a new paint job.

He does like painting his armor, though, so that's fine.

He's just sliding his vibroblade out of his gauntlet to twist it between his fingers when Anakin shows up, walking easy and confident like he's got all the time in the world. Which is also not unusual. Rex flips the blade in his palm, feels the weight of it, rolls his eyes even though Anakin can't see it.

"Good to see you both," Anakin says, with a wry smirk, and Rex nods. His General looks tired , which doesn't surprise Rex, exactly, but does worry him. "Sorry you didn't have more time to sleep."

Rex, personally, is fine - Ahsoka really needs sleep still, though, and he really wants to say something to Anakin about it but he's sure Anakin can already tell. Hence the apology.

"It's okay," Ahsoka says, and Rex frowns.

And decides he's done enough worrying for now, enough thinking , so he takes a few deep breaths and pushes all the extra stuff to the back corners of his mind for later, channels the anxious pre-battle energy into tightening his hand around his vibroblade and testing the edge of it with his thumb.

He forces steel into his spine and steadiness into his breath, ignores the way his wound has been throbbing since he woke up. Unfortunately, he can't afford to care about that right now. He'll deal with it after they win, and if there's a problem, he'll deal with that too.

...

Anakin is projecting a steady stream of apologetic concern, and it's driving Ahsoka crazy.

Like, okay, she gets it-he's worried about her, because she'd had a total meltdown for absolutely no reason (and she's a Jedi, or, well, sorta-a-Jedi, she should be better than that), and he's sorry because she needs more sleep than she'd gotten, but all of them are in that boat. Anakin himself looks about like he hasn't really slept in a week, with shadows under his eyes and a bit of a paleness to his skin that worries her. So she puts up a light shield across the training bond, just enough to send Anakin a message-he pulls back almost immediately, with one last light apology, and she lets the shield dissipate. "What's the plan?" she asks, and Anakin takes a breath, his gaze sharpening.

"The locals are under Separatist occupation and are sympathetic to us," he explains, "so we take an unmarked ship, land, pretend to leave again-"

And Ahsoka grins, picking up the rest of the plan from his head. "You're going to have Artoo remote-pilot the ship away while we-what, sneak out and hide underneath the landing pad and hope the sentries don't notice us?" A typical Skywalker plan, if she's being honest with herself, maybe less dangerous and reckless than some of the ones they've done-and succeeded with. Still dangerous, especially with the amount of sleep they're all sporting.

Anakin grins, laughs a little. "Exactly, Snips. We'll sneak down to the lower levels-that's where our intel has Grievous holed up at-and then call in the battalions once we've got him secured."

It's a sound plan. Even if it is reckless, and dangerous, and a high chance of failure, it's the only plan they have. Unfortunately. Obi-Wan looks… frustrated, she thinks, or just plain unsure about all this, and she doesn't blame him. "We need to move, then," she says, feels Rex taking a few careful breaths, slipping into his battle-ready mindset.

"Wait," Bo-Katan says, and holds something up-a jetpack. She extends it to Rex. "You might need a sen'tra for this mission, Captain."

...

Rex takes the jetpack, of course- he knows how to use one, technically is even good at it. He doesn't particularly like fighting with one, but that's neither here nor there.

"Thanks, Mand'alor ," he says, pulling the harness over his shoulders and buckling it around his waist. Hopefully he won't need it much.

He follows Ahsoka and Anakin to their ship (lets Jak and Bo-Katan go ahead of him though, with a forced kind of politeness, because just now he doesn't want Jak behind him), stares somewhat dubiously at it again before climbing in.

They're going to fly down into a sinkhole crawling with CIS top brass and General Grievous , consequently also many, many droid battalions, and they're going to have their only escape route fly away without them until they can secure General Grievous - which is, historically, not an easy ask.

I have a bad feeling about this, Rex says, twirling his vibroblade again and glancing over at Anakin and Kenobi.

It'll probably be fine , Ahsoka says, and Rex snorts and leans back against the wall of the ship, feels durasteel shuddering as the engines come online.

"Oh, I'm sure it will," he mutters, for just Ahsoka to hear. "But I'm also sure it's going to be very exciting ."

...

For some reason, Ahsoka thinks Rex is being rather facetious when he says exciting in that particular tone of voice. It brings a little smile to her face, and she leans into him a bit, just a little, even as they board the ship and the door hisses closed. There's someone-something?-beeping and burbling in binary from the cockpit, and it takes a moment but she recognizes it as Artoo. Anakin grins, says, "We're all clear, Artoo, take us down," and then the ship lifts off and starts to move.

Jak's standing incredibly, completely still in one corner of the hold, back to both walls, his hands folded behind him in impeccable parade rest. She tries not to let that unnerve her, focuses instead on the others: Obi-Wan sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, meditating (of course he is); Bo-Katan reflexively checking her blasters, feeling the weight and balance, sighting down the barrel, turning them over and over in her hands; Anakin pacing a path around the hold, his right hand hovering near his 'saber hilt. Rex is outwardly calm beside her, though she can feel the tense anxiety humming in the back of his thoughts like a live wire-he's pushing it back, taking careful, deep breaths, falling further and further into battle-readiness. Smart.

She should probably do the same.

Ahsoka closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, feels mission-silence coming over her like a cloak, icy-still and holding her tense, a shock of energy spiking through her blood, giving her the strength to shove her shoulders back and lift her chin and feel like she can actually do this without collapsing.

No one speaks as the ship drops down into the sinkhole and lands; Obi-Wan stands, snapping out of his meditation easily, wraps his cloak around him as he steps out the door, alone. (She doesn't trust this.) He's gone for long enough she's starting to worry (she can't see where he'd gone, she can't tell what's going on), and then he comes back, steps inside the ship, says hurriedly, "We need to get out, now-the sentries aren't paying attention."

Ahsoka takes a deep breath, swallows, reaches for the Force. They can do this.

...

Rex stays right next to Ahsoka as they follow Kenobi to the opposite side of the ship's hold. "There are sentries watching from there, there, and there," Kenobi says, pointing. "But if we climb out here we should be fine. One at a time, and I'll go first."

"No kriffing-"

"Anakin, not now, please." Kenobi's tone is sharp enough that Anakin actually subsides, and Kenobi pulls open a repair hatch in the side of the ship, quickly ignites his saber and slices an opening in the outside of the ship, pulls the piece of metal into the ship and sets it down quietly with a flick of his fingers. Then, with a small grimace, he climbs through the opening, across the landing pad, and with a smooth twist, dropped off the edge of it.

Jedi . Honestly. Jak starts to go out the opening, and Rex pushes past him, shaking his head. "I'm always first," he says, casually, because he's not letting Jak be alone with Obi-Wan - he's not had good self-control today. He doesn't think Jak loves that, but too bad.

He drops through the hatch, eases through the new hole in the bottom of the ship, and falls into a crouch, checks for sentries. No one seems to be watching, so he scrambles to the edge of the landing pad ( and he does not like heights he never has for kriff's sake why does this always happen ) and, grabbing the edge of it, swallows and lets himself drop off .

He hangs off the lip of the landing pad for a second, sees the ledge Kenobi is crouching on and lets himself fall the last several feet, landing and going to one knee to lessen the impact.

"Good to see you here, Captain," Kenobi says lightly, smiling. Rex settles into a crouch and nods.

"You too, General," he says lightly.

...

Bo-Katan and Jak, thankfully, don't need to be told to hurry; the instant Rex is out from underneath the ship, the two Mandalorians drop down, check to make sure the path is clear, and then vanish over the edge of the landing platform. Ahsoka slips through the small gap immediately after, finding herself only a couple meters from the platform's edge. Two steps forward will take her out from beneath the ship and the scant cover it provides, leaving her dangerously exposed, but the ship is almost fully fueled and Anakin still has to get out, so she takes a deep breath, lifts the hood of the cloak Anakin had tossed at her just a moment ago, and then she draws on the Force and slips out into the open.

You don't see me, she thinks, wrapping the Force around her like a second cloak, I was never here, and then she's crouching down, dropping over the lip of the platform and catching the very edge with her fingers. There's a ledge a couple meters down, occupied by Obi-Wan, Rex, and the mando'ade, and Ahsoka nods approvingly, swings her legs in a bit to change her trajectory, and lets go. She pulls on the Force a bit as she lands, lightly on the balls of her feet, and then she shifts over a bit to make room for Anakin, who's already making the jump.

Their ship flies by overhead, and she swallows the twist of anxiety in her stomach. From now until the battalions attack, they're effectively stranded.

"Grievous is on the tenth level," Obi-Wan says in a low voice. He indicates the next platform down, which Ahsoka judges to be about a twenty-meter drop, give or take, with one hand. "If we drop down to that platform, we should be able to slip inside and sneak down to the correct level."

It's a long fall, even for a Jedi, and Ahsoka hesitates, eyeing the distance. It'd be easier to jump back up onto the platform they'd landed on-but if the sentries are still watching, they'd be instantly revealed, and the whole plan would be compromised, so…

"Freefall until the last possible second," Bo-Katan says to Rex. "The less you use your jetpack, the smaller the chance we'll be detected."

"You are not going first this time, Master," Anakin adds furiously. Privately, Ahsoka thinks the chances of that succeeding are slimmer than the mission's odds, but it's a good try.

"On the contrary," Obi-Wan says lightly, and then he tips over the edge.

Anakin swears.

And then Obi-Wan tucks and rolls, comes up on his feet like he jumps twenty meters every day (which, knowing him, almost wouldn't be surprising), adjusts his hood and cloak, and gestures quickly up at them. Bo-Katan is next; she jumps off, her jetpack flaring to life when she's about five meters from the platform, enabling her to land easily without even dropping to a knee. Jak mimics her, and the three of them vanish out of Ahsoka's sight.

She takes a deep breath, exchanges a look with Anakin, sends a pulse of reassurance to Rex (he's anxious-he really hates heights), and then gathers her cloak up and steps over the edge.

There's a swooping feeling in her stomach, almost like a cloud of butterflies have suddenly hatched and are fluttering up into her throat, and she sucks in a sharp gasp and pulls on the Force, increasing strength and balance, and then she turns the wild freefall into a mostly-coordinated roll across the smaller platform and into the shadows. She gets back to her feet, grabs the hilts of her 'sabers to keep her hands from trembling, takes a shaky breath.

They can't go back now. The only way out is through.

...

Rex glances at Anakin, who gestures in front of him with a broad, generous smile. "After you, Captain."

Rex sighs and goes to the edge of the platform and doesn't hesitate, just jumps .

For a moment all his instincts are screaming and his stomach is trying to escape out his mouth and the fall feels like years and he hates heights why the kriff -

And he engages his jetpack with a jolt on his shoulders, slows just enough that landing heavily on the platform below doesn't send him crashing to the floor. He straightens and hurries out of sight, next to Ahsoka. A moment later, Anakin drops and rolls on the platform, and Rex envies his ease with it.

Tell me we aren't going to have to do that much more .

Ahsoka makes a face at him. What's the big deal, Rexter?

Rex snorts and rolls his shoulders.

"Are you all coming?" General Kenobi says, wryly, standing at a small tunnel entrance, eyebrows raised.

Anakin shakes his head and waves his hand; Rex falls in behind him with Ahsoka and Jak. No more falling, for now - but then he doesn't like tunnels either.

The tunnels are near-silent - even Jak's boots don't make much sound. "Keep an eye out for hostiles," he says. "The locals will turn a blind eye, but we can't afford to be seen."

...

Ahsoka keeps her movements quiet and careful, feeling almost like a ghost in the dark brown cloak and hood, especially with the way the locals are very careful to not acknowledge their presence. Every now and then, a patrol of droids troops by, and they have to take shelter in one of the nooks in the walls, one of the side rooms, frozen until the patrol passes by.

They maintain comms-silence as they go, just in case the Separatists are scanning for Republic comm frequencies in use, communicating solely through hand signals, though Ahsoka keeps up a steady projection of reassurance and calm across her bond with Rex-he's uncomfortable, unnerved by the tunnels. She doesn't like tunnels either, but that's easy enough to forget. She breathes in, breathes out, sinks deeper into mission-silence, lets the ice freeze over her thoughts. Calm, collected, focused. Ready.

They walk for what seems like an eternity, through a warren of tunnels that all look the exact same (a part of her vaguely wonders how Obi-Wan is navigating), and against her will, exhaustion begins to drag at her again. She knows once the actual fighting starts, adrenaline will kick in and she'll be able to think again, but for now it's taking every ounce of willpower, all the training she has, to keep herself on high alert, to stay aware of her surroundings. (If someone were to ambush her right now, she isn't sure she'd see it coming.)

Rex feels concerned in the back of her thoughts, and she thinks that's probably for good reason-she shouldn't be here.

But then again, none of them are exactly ready for this: all of them have been awake for too long, running on too little sleep, and they've just come from another battle. And Obi-Wan has still only been walking for a little under three weeks. And Jak's in almost the same situation as she is, maybe even worse, because she doubts he's had any sleep and he was so twisted up.

She's really not sure how exactly the Council expects them to defeat Grievous in this condition.

After a while, she's not sure how long, they leave the almost-claustrophobic tunnels behind, emerging onto a durasteel catwalk above a large room open to the sinkhole. Quite a few people are gathered below, Grievous pacing in front of them, all four hands clasped behind his back. He's saying something, but quietly enough she can't tell what, can't make out the words.

Obi-Wan signals at Bo-Katan, Jak, and Rex, directing them to form a perimeter, keep everyone penned in, and then he drops his hood and grins,and kriff. Kriff, she recognizes that look, that's the same look Anakin gets whenever he's about to do something stupid and ill-advised and totally reckless. (Like Master, like Padawan.)

By the look on his face, Anakin recognizes that smile too, but neither of them are fast enough-Obi-Wan shrugs off his cloak with a flourish, pulls out his lightsaber, and jumps off the catwalk, lands lightly on the floor, ignites his 'saber, and says, simply, "Hello there."

Kriff.

Rex and the two Mandalorians are moving, she vaguely notices, jetpacks on, but she ignores them mostly, focuses in on the floor below, because Grievous is igniting all four of his 'sabers and attacking and Obi-Wan has a kriffing hole in his chest and is not prepared for this. She jumps, ignites her own 'sabers, shouts out, "Hey, ugly! Over here, you karking demagolka!"

Grievous growls, and then does-something, she's not sure what, but there's multiple destroyers rolling in, and behind a massive squadron of battle droids, and from the sides of the room come four MagnaGuards, those stupid kriffing droids with the electrostaffs, and Ahsoka swears.

Kriff. They are so kriffed.

...

Rex reluctantly decides to follow Bo-Katan's lead, on this occasion; when she jumps down near Kenobi, he follows, even though he's kriffing tired of jumping voluntarily off of places today.

It's still a relief to draw both his blasters and head towards Ahsoka and Kenobi, shooting fast and occasionally pausing to roll a droid popper through a destroyer's shields. Ahsoka is engaging the MagnaGuards and he just keeps half an eye on her, enough that he feels like he'll see if she needs him. Anakin launches into the fight with Grievous, which is barely more than a blur of light and color.

A destroyer rolls between he and his Jedi, scrambling up onto its spindly legs and engaging its shields, and Rex scrambles back and grabs a grenade, steadies his hand and tosses it lightly across the ground so it slides through the shields and bursts into white light, energy and shrapnel slamming into a squad of B2 droids and one of the MagnaGuards. Rex shoots the downed droids for good measure and turns to keep Bo-Katan and Jak watching his flank, shoots a row of battle droids. He needs a faster way to get the destroyers out of the way, ideally, but he'll worry about that ifit becomes a problem, not before.

"Hey, adiik , on your right," Jak growls, and Rex whips his blaster over and fires in concert with Jak until the threat (six or so commando droids) is eliminated.

He glances over at Ahsoka again, keeping the three remaining MagnaGuards occupied, and as he looks she drives one away from the others, towards them, and Rex sees Bo-Katan ready her blasters, take aim at the droid - and Ahsoka slices it in half, then follows through and cuts its head off. Its electrostaff clatters to the ground, sparking, and Rex almost grabs it, except it's a close combat weapon and he would prefer to keep this fight far from close quarters.

Partly so Kix doesn't poison him.

So Rex just projects a hum of pride toward her, ignores the electrostaff on the ground, and works to stay out of the way of Grievous and his Jedi with their whirling sabers. Bo-Katan and Jak have taken to the air, to hold a better perimeter, but Rex doesn't because he's sick of heights and someone needs to take out the destroyers. They're holding alright, if pressure is high, when he hears shouting and a roar of engines and he smiles, accidentally rolls a grenade too hard and it bounces off the destroyer's shields. Kriff , focusing - but the battalions are here, and the Death Watch, flying in over their heads with jetpacks. Rex pulls back closer to Ahsoka, finds she's just fighting two MagnaGuards now - he holsters his newer DC and picks up one of the fallen electrostaffs, falls in next to and slightly behind her.

Hey, Soka. You're doing alright over here.

...

Ahsoka doesn't exactly startle, when Rex projects to her, but she's surprised. His voice cracks the ice, a little, and lets a bit of the exhaustion creep in; she pushes it back, determined, ducks a stray blaster shot, blocks two electrostaffs. Kind of you to notice, she thinks in response, dryly, rolling her eyes a little.

A grenade goes off nearby, and a chunk of debris (twisted and red-hot metal she thinks used to be a battle droid) hits the ground right next to her-she flinches a little, jerks her 'sabers up and drives between the two MagnaGuards. This is how they prefer to fight, she knows: one engaging the lightsaber, one attacking from behind. But they aren't used to fighting Jedi with two 'sabers, and it shows.

The reverse grip she uses on her 'saber hilts is a disadvantage in some situations, but here and now, it's a blessing, allowing her to easily swing one 'saber behind her to block without ever turning. She ignores the droid behind her (for the most part, dodging and blocking it when she needs to), sucks in a breath (her side is starting to hurt, and her shoulder is sore from the constant strain on it), reaches for the Force and asks for more speed, more strength, focuses on the other MagnaGuard-a duck underneath its staff, and she swipes out one 'saber and slices both its legs off at the knee-joints. She grabs onto the Force, pushes, knocking it to the ground, cuts off the arm holding the electrostaff before it can try and fight again, and finishes it off by slicing its head off.

And then something heavy and coldly metallic and sparking slams across her back and shoulders, sending her sprawling face-down onto the ground hard, her 'sabers flying from her hands and clattering to the floor, and for a moment she can't breathe, there's stars flashing in her vision and something hot and coppery streams down her face (her nose, she must've cracked her nose on something, it's probably broken, kriffing hells), and she struggles to string together a coherent thought, bringing her arms underneath her (there's so much blood and she feels like she's choking, even though she isn't, she knows she isn't but she can't breathe and she's panting) and starting to push herself onto her knees-

And the end of an electrostaff presses into her back, pins her to the ground, and she can't move, she can't, it's shocking her and her scars screamand she reaches out instinctively for Rex, for Anakin, for somebody, because it hurts and she's miscalculated and no, no, she can't-

The MagnaGuard's cold, clawed hand locks around her head, digging into the sensitive skin of her montrals and headtails, and she bites her lip to stifle a whimper (tastes blood, still can't breathe) as the droid tilts her head back until her neck burns from the stress, and it's staring down at her, a durasteel foot on her back now, its electrostaff jammed so firmly into her neck she physically cannot breathe, and she's kriffing going to die, she can't think and it all hurts and-

And then there's a voice, a sound, like light, like salvation, like laughter.

"Hey, you karking clanker! Let. Her. Go."

And Ahsoka's lightsaber sings as Rex cuts the MagnaGuard in half, his golden eyes molten and flaming in her blurred, black-spotted vision.

Kriffing hells, she loves that man.

Obi-Wan really should know better than this, he thinks, than to throw himself into a fight with General Grievous of all people, when he can barely walk. Even with Anakin here helping, the fight's a struggle.

At least with the chaos of the battle going on around them, Grievous can't pull his spinning-lightsabers trick.

Grievous isn't particularly skilled with his 'sabers, honestly-it's just that he's fast, and strong, and doesn't tire, and he has four of them. The only Jedi in recent history to wield so many blades was Krell, and that… had not turned out well. This isn't looking like it'll turn out well either, because both he and Anakin keep forgetting about the droid general's stupid kriffing legs. Like, for example, right now.

Obi-Wan gasps, his head spinning, white-hot agony stabbing through him, originating from the healing blaster wound in his back, and kriff that's not good; his 'saber is somehow still in his hand, even though he's just been kicked into a wall with the approximate force of a heavy durasteel speeder at ninety kilometers an hour. That's probably the only good thing about the situation he currently finds himself in. Because he's against the wall, slumping on the floor, struggling to even inhale, which means Anakin is facing Grievous alone. The dizzy swirls of light and color and sound in front of him resolve into a slightly-less-blurry scene, and he manages to focus through the pain in time to see Anakin catch all four of Grievous' 'sabers on his blue blade, hold it for a moment, then shove back and lunge in to slice one of the droid's arms off.

Impressive.

"You gonna make me do all the work, Master?" Anakin shouts, though Obi-Wan can feel a steady thread of concern across their training bond.

He huffs, manages to get enough of a full breath to heave himself to his feet (kriff, that was a mistake, everything's spinning again), and he ignites his lightsaber and moves to join the duel again. "You know, Grievous," he starts conversationally, as though he's not barely holding himself together, almost falling over, nearly throwing up from the pain, "I must wonder why the welcoming party-did you know we were coming?"

Grievous laughs, that awful grating choke that sounds so much like a cough. "Worse, Kenobi-I knew if you did come, it would be you and Skywalker, and I knew what strategy you would likely employ." He lunges, and Obi-Wan barely manages to parry in time, his mind spinning.

"How is that possible?" he wonders aloud, pulls on the Force for strength and speed and pain relief, manages to sneak in and cut off another of Grievous' arms. "Are we really that predictable?"

The droid general laughs again, kicks Anakin in the side (Obi-Wan swears, forces himself to keep engaging the droid and not run over to his former padawan's side). "No, Kenobi. Dooku has an asset that can be persuaded to reveal a great deal of information on your battle tactics."

"What kind of asset?" That's Anakin, who's recovered and pressing the attack again.

"What makes you think I'd tell you, Skywalker?"

Anakin grins, winks, kriffing ridiculous. "Oh, I don't know," he says airily. "My stunning good looks? My charm?" And, as he strikes again, his fingers twitch in a signal Obi-Wan knows well. Play dead.

(Not literally, of course.)

So Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, grabs onto the Force, and lets Grievous kick him in the gut, even though it feels like being headbutted by a bantha with a side of being eviscerated by a krayt dragon, lands hard on the unforgiving ground and tries to remember how to breathe, and he watches through watering eyes as Anakin lures Grievous back a little, so that his back is completely to Obi-Wan.

And then the signal comes, a tiny hand motion, a nudge across the bond, and Obi-Wan clings to the Force and vaults to his feet, silently, launches himself across the gap between himself and the droid general, leaves his 'saber off-and, at the last possible second, just before the hilt of his 'saber slams into Grievous' back-plating, where his organic heart is contained, he depresses the button and lights his blue blade through the droid.

Grievous has enough time to laugh, once more, harsh and grating, and then the light goes out of his mechanized eyes and he collapses.

Dead.

Collapsing, Obi-Wan thinks, sounds nice right about now. He could use a nice collapse. The planet isn't helping matters any, either; it keeps whirling, won't hold still-aren't planets supposed to hold still? It would be nice. He'd like to walk, at least to Anakin-

And then everything blurs and when he vision (sort of) clears, he realizes he's staring at the ceiling. How odd. It's not even an interesting ceiling, just… bland and jagged and rocky, and the ground is the same, come to think of it, stabbing him in all manner of inconvenient and uncomfortable places, and why is he down here, how did he even get here?

All very important questions, he thinks, but they can perhaps wait until after he's had a little rest. Just a little… nap… surely no one will begrudge him that…

Mando'a translations:

Tal: blood

Haastale: dried blood or scabs (also a term for a lasting emotional scar which tbh we need a term for)

Skira: revenge, settling a score

Chaab: fear

Traat'aliit: squad

Vaar'ika: pipsqueak

Ori'ramikad: supercommando

Sen'tra: jetpack

Demagolka: war-criminal, someone who does really awful, atrocious stuff