Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part 1:
She had the original Luke’s memories. She had the memories of thrill, of fun, of sleepwalking and waking up holding a lightsaber over her nephew. She remembered the Mandolorian, and Grogu, and of trying to be something familiar; of trying to be the old order and not the new one. She remembered losing her first student. She could remember finding out that Leia was her sister, the elation of it. She could remember her father, and finding out that the terror known as Darth Vader was her blood; she could remember thinking it had to be a lie. She could remember her brief fling with Mara Jade, and how no matter how hard she tried to find the assassin, she never could. She remembered letting go.

He could remember watching the movies for the first time, the terror he felt as a four year old in watching Darth Vader swoop down in a tie fighter. He could remember the disappointment he felt when he watched movie number eight. He remembered feeling that Luke’s character had been messed with just a little too much and that he was being an idiot in the Mandolorian. He could remember reading the books, and watching the shows. The elation and the mixed feelings, the hate for a dead fictional character. He could remember the downward spiral into fanfiction, how his mother had been disappointed with him. He could remember getting his drivers license, getting in the car and getting rear ended by a speeding car at a stoplight. He remembers that dying was nothing like the concussion he’d had at eight; that had been quick, and he didn’t even remember the event that caused it, but this was slow and painful and there was blood in his lungs and-
She-he-they were tired. They weren’t even supposed to be here. But they were Luke Skywalker now.

-
The alarming thing of being reborn with all your memories, even if they had two sets of memories shoved into a tiny baby brain, is that you know things you probably shouldn’t. The force is a  stranger and an old friend at the same time, and the strand of darkness attaching itself to Padmé Amidala is subtle but pulsing, eating away at her life like a leech.

The medical droid drones. They are passed into Obi-Wan’s arms. Luke-Lucia-Luca ignores the jedi master, too busy to scream or cry. They pluck at the strands holding the thick bond draining their mothers life force. They are too old for this, but they are also too young for this responsibility. Their mother says something, but Luke isn’t paying attention and Lucia can’t understand basic, so they don’t hear her. Luca swears as they rip at the bond, they can feel their mother’s pain as she births Leia. Leia is different then how Luke remembers, she is too young, too small, and feels like how Ben did when he’d been born. Leia screams with her whole body and and Luca can feel it resounding in her soul. Leia’s name slips from Padmé Amidala’s lips and then her life slips too.

Luca follows.

-
Father’s on the other end, as Lucia expected but to Lukes surprise. ‘Help me.’ Luca pleads. ‘Let me have both my parents.’ A bond snaps into place. Back in their body, Luca begins to cry.
 

Chapter Text

Part 2:
Luca Skywalker is a lot of things. A crier is not one of them. “Obi-Wan should be relieved,” Luke thinks at Lucia. “Ben screamed his lungs out every chance he got.”
Lucia mentally shrugs back at him, sending him an image of their sister. “That might just be because he was Leia’s.”
“Fair.”
Obi-Wan Kenobi held Luca like they were fragile, which they were but rude, and looked like he
was going to cry every time he looked at the child in his arms. Luca had managed to stop screaming a few hours ago, and Obi-Wan had refused to put them down since. Luca is lulled to sleep by his soft tones, and Yoda’s humming voice.
-
They’re in a dreamscape that they’re not familiar with when they wake up. It could have been Luca’s, they supposed. After all, Lucia’s dreamscape was a lot different then Luke’s, however they highly doubted that their combined dreamscape would be presented as the inside of a ship that they didn’t manage to recognize. It was old, pre-empire, which wasn’t that surprising considering Luke had lived into his late 50s before letting go. But that wasn’t why Luca didn’t think the dreamscape was theirs.

A man sat a few feet in front of Luca’s floating pram, head in his hands, shaking. What looks Ike dark armor covers his shoulders and shins, as if he’d been half way through doffing his armor when he’d fallen asleep. It was not Vader, Luca noted absently. The man’s head snaps up as Luca lets out a small whine, wiggling inside their swaddle.

“What..” The mans voice is drawl-like, and he stares at Luca like a deer in headlights. Luca wiggles again, frustrated at not having control of their limbs, and the man stands shakily. “What is a tubie doing here?”
Luca coos at him as best as they can, the mans face blurry in their newborn vision. He bends down to look at them and Luca wants to laugh, despite physically being unable to at the moment.
  
  There’s tattoo of a crosshair is splayed across the clone’s face.
“This is not what I meant.” Lucia sighs into the force.
“I don’t even know who this is.” Luke shoots back. “Care to explain?” The quick flash of the Bad Batch has Luke vibrating. “Oh my god?”

Lucia laughs. “That’s Crosshair.”
“That’s Crosshair!?”

Said clone pokes at the baby with a toothpick. “I don’t understand how there’s a tubie.” He mutters to himself. “Why is there a tubie.”

“I don’t know why I’m a tubie either, Cross.” Lucia thinks, absentmindedly. “But I think you might be a father now.”

“Why did you decide this was a good idea again?” Luke pokes her.

“I didn’t expect The Force to take me seriously!” Lucia pokes him back. “But then again we’re its grandkid, we’re gonna be spoiled relentlessly.”

Crosshair picks Luca up carefully, obviously inexperienced in holding a baby. “Tech said to support the head, right?” He mutters. “I am very much mad at myself for ignoring that lecture.” Luca whines, Crosshair pulls on their swaddle, able to tell from their wiggling what they want. Luca’s tiny hand latches around Crosshairs pointer-finger.

Cross takes a deep breath. “Do you have parents, small child?” He adjusts his grip on the infant. “...Luca” Crosshair adds, reading the tiny stitched name on the blanket Luca’s half-swaddled in. Luca makes a noise in the back of their throat, half coo, half whine.

Crosshair sighs. “I guess I’m a parent now then.”

-
Crosshair shoots up in his bunk, the pounding in his head returning with a ferocity that makes him want to keel over. Swearing under his breath he swings his legs over the edge, then twists to get at the bunk above him. Tech’s bunk hadn’t been claimed by any of the nat-borns, his new squad of all things, and so while he had to be careful, he could most likely get i-got it!
  
  Cross-CT-9904, his mind argues- pulls out Tech’s spare data-pad from under the mattress and quietly lowers the spring-filled slab back to the bunk frame. Tech had sliced his way out of the GAR’s surveillance system when he was 5, and therefore all of his data-pads had an unwatched searching function, that was if you knew how to hide it. If the Kaminoans found it they would reset it, and if the Empire found it, well... Crosshair wasn’t sure what they’d do.

Cro-CT-9904-sshair rubs at his eyes, praying for the headache to go away. He did not need for it to turn into a migraine, he had research to do.
-
Vader breathes in the emptiness of the medical room the Chancellor-no, the Emperor, his master, Sidious-had left him in. He couldn’t feel Padmé anymore, that much was certain. But- But- He had a child. He had a child. He’d lost one angel and and gained another. He’d-Oh.. He’d- Vader could feel the red on the edges of his vision, the dragon that had rose when he’d killed Dooku, killed the Tuskens, fought Obi-Wan. The dragon rose high, red that was not caused by his new visor clouded his vison. He feels like screaming, but his breather won’t let him, his lungs flailing in pain when he tries.

Vader activates his lightsaber and begins to hack at the room around him. They took his child. They had taken his child. His little angel, his bird. His freeborn child had been taken and enslaved by the Jedi, even when they’d just been born.
Vader screams into the force. The Chanc-Emperor nudges him, the darkness swirling around him, a sort of twisted pride in his signature. Vader hates him. Vader hates-loves-him. Vader wraps his hate around his mind, around his bonds (mostly broken, but one-one beautiful paper thin bond- leading to his child) and around his lungs and his newly amputated limbs. He reaches for the force, and as always it comes willingly, lovingly. It wraps around him, reinforcing his shields without his prompting, pouring vitality into his tired and pained limbs.

The Force is on his side, as always. The Emperor is not. He will pay for lying-or maybe, maybe Vader prays suddenly, the Emperor doesn’t know his child exists.

Chapter Text

Part 3:

Luca had expected to be given to Owen and Beru. Luca had expected the warmth of Tattooine’s two suns. Luca was not expecting this: Obi-Wan had been given his own ship, and was going off to who knows where. He was taking Luca with him.

Luca gapes at the ceiling of their pram, the mobile Obi-Wan had hung spins, and Luca supposes its interesting, but doesn’t really care. Luke Skywalker was defined by his childhood on Tattooine. Luke Skywalker’s childhood on Tattooine had given him all of the skills he used to blow up the Death Star, had given him the family values that brought Vader back to the light.

Luca Skywalker would now have none of those things. Luca didn’t even know where they were going. Luca would most likely never meet their Aunt and Uncle. Luca begins to cry, mourning, truly mourning for the first time those who they’d lost when they came to be here. Obi-Wan comes in to check on them, attempting to smooth them with The Force. Luca wraps themself up in Obi-Wan’s force signature like its a blanket, and continues to mourn. Obi-Wan sends Luca an image of Padmé, and Luca adds her to the list. They cry. Obi-Wan joins in.
-

Obi-Wan shaves his beard, and Luca approves, knowing that while he might not like looking as young as he now does, he doesn’t look like The Negotiator.

Its odd to think of him without a beard. Luke has never seen him without one, and Lucia associates his beardless form with Obi-Wan’s padawan days. Obi-Wan doesn’t have a braid now, and has a completely different hairstyle on top of that. Its so familiar its jarring, but its also not familiar at all. Obi-Wan presses should-be-whiskery kisses to Lucas head as they cry, not quite colicky but when it comes to the force its close enough.

The force is dark. Neither Obi-Wan or Luca can sleep with the echos of atrocities ringing in their ears, but they manage it.

-

Crosshair is a lifesaver, even if he’s unable to be there during the day. Naps during the day are just Luca’s, and they plan and plan and plan and then cry in frustration when they hit a dead end. Naps at night are Cross and Luca’s, and Luca can tell he’s been doing research.

He keeps double glancing at Lula and then muttering about suffocation. Lula’s been put on the upmost shelf Crosshair could find, and all weapons in the dreamscape have been locked in a box and stuffed into the upmost bunk of the Marauder. (Which was Echo’s, but Crosshair highly doubted he’d care that Cross was using his bunk to keep weapons out of the hands of an infant.)

Luca breathes out against Crosshairs chest as he hums at them absentmindedly. This is the only way the both of us have kept our sanity, Luca thinks absentmindedly. Obi-Wan is too anxious nowadays, its freaking me out. And Cross needs a good mission, a good priority.

Luca rests against their Buir’s chest, safe, open, bare minimum of shielding around their mind. They fall asleep in the mindscape and wake up in their pram, Obi-Wan feeds them and they go back to sleep, back to the dreamscape, back to Buir.

Luca breathes against Crosshairs chest and tries not to cry. They’re not successful. Cross rubs their back once he figures out thats what they need, murmuring stilted affirmations in their small ears. Everything is okay.

-

They travel for the first year of Luca’s life, not quite running, but still on the move to avoid the Empire. Obi-Buir has a job in a delivery company based on Alderaan, most likely got for him by Bail. There are always boxes in the hold, but there is food on the table and they have all the paperwork and so the Empire has never pulled them over and searched them.

“You should settle down.” An old lady on one of the planets they visit says, playing with Luca’s feet. “A life on the move is no place for a baby.”

Obi-Wan sighs and presses a slightly whiskery kiss to Luca’s head. He’ll need to shave soon. A life on the move is the safest place for Luca, Obi-Wan knows. But Luca isn’t officially Luca Skywalker, which threw them for a loop the first time they heard their full name. Luca’s a Djinn, odd spelling of Master Jinn’s last name aside, no ones really looking for them. Obi-Wan isn’t technically even a Kenobi anymore. Obi-Wan puts Luca to bed and then goes and gets his data-pad.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Master.” He tells the air. Obi-Wan couldn’t see the force ghost,
but Luca could, so Obi-Wan knew the man was there. “I can’t just abandon them. I can’t... their so strong in the force, I don’t know.. I don’t know who to trust. I can’t go to Bail, I’ve already asked so much of him, I-“ Obi-Wan drops his head in his hands, and jumps as Qui-Gon’s voice says softly:

“Who would you trust with your life that you have not told Anakin about?” Obi-Wan stares at the wall blankly.

“Anakin knows all of those I’d trust with my life though.”

“Does he?”

“Yes he... knows everyone I’ve trusted with my life since I took him on.” Obi-Wan stares at the
wall, eyes wide, before jumping for his data-pad. “But I have plenty of friends from my padawan days... I think.”

Obi-Wan rubs at his stubble, wishing he had his old beard suddenly. A flash of red catches his eye and he squeezes his eyes shut. He always hated having mirrors in moments like this, when he was trying to think. He had the same hair color as Cerasi used to and it never helped to-Cerasi. 

“Nield.”

Chapter Text

Part 4:

Luca is asleep when Nield and Obi-Wan reunite. They find it sorta cheesy when they wake up. Nield is sitting in the living room, shoulder to shoulder to Obi-Wan, watching him with a look in his eyes that Luca would have called promiscuous if it hadn’t been directed at Luca’s kind-of-parent. (And also Luca knew Nield and Obi-Wans relationship wasn’t sexual, so...)

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize.” Nield scolds, pressing his shoulder harder into Obi-Wan’s. “Don’t apologize for having the life you dreamed of.”

“I don’t think I ever dreamed of my people being massacred and then raising my padawan’s child, Nield.” Obi-Wan drops his head onto Nield’s shoulder.

“Marry me.”

“What?” (Okay, maybe it was, who knows.)

-

They stayed on Melida/Daan for about a month before Nield shooed them off, stating that Obi- Wan needed to leave before he died of pent up anxiety. Nield held up a hand as if to high-five the air as they took off, and Obi-Wan returned the gesture through the window.

“Good Luck.” He’d said before they’d left.

“I don’t need luck.” Obi-Wan had replied. Luca sighed in relief, worried he’d say something else, worried that he’d say what he usually did to Anakin.

“Everybody needs luck.”

Obi-Wan had smiled. “Not us.” He gestured between Luca and himself. “Besides,” He shrugged, “There’s no such thing as luck.”

Luca sighed internally, and Nield raised an eyebrow. “Just come back to me.” The I don’t want to lose you again hung in the air. Obi-Wans response was nonverbal, but Luca can tell that it was I don’t think I could lose you again either. I’ve already lost everyone else.

Luca repeated the words to themself, Luke to Lucia and back again. “I don’t want to lose you, I’ve already lost everyone else.Yes I am in fact aware we are now the same person.”

“Of course, Nield.” Obi-Wan said instead. They get on the ship and they do a few jobs. They come back again. Luca has a new normal.

-

Crosshair makes it his mission to make Luca laugh. The two of them are on opposite sides of the galaxy, so its hard to line up their actual circadian rhythms, but Luca takes enough naps that it doesn’t matter.

Luca’s giggles give Crosshair a reason to smile, something he doesn’t really have ever since Commander Cody deserted. He’d shot that Governor without hesitation. Cody didn’t seem to understand that he wasn’t just following orders, though Cross was good at pretending that’s what it was. Crosshairs life wasn’t just his anymore. It wasn’t the Empires either. He had to live for Luca, and he had to follow the Empire or else he would die.

Cody didn’t understand. Luca was Cross’ only priority. They were the only thing that came before Crosshairs own life.

-

Vader could feel his child on the clone. Vader knew his name, he’d met the clone before, but he didn’t quite remember it. The dragon was roaring in his ears.

The clone was the only person who the dragon calmed at the sight of, though it did bristle. It was obvious that the clone was not his child’s kidnapper, but the bond was obvious to Vader once he had noticed it. It was almost impossible to see if he hadn’t been looking for his child’s signature 24/5/368.

Vader seethes as he watches from a distance, his child’s chosen clone had been transferred to some lowlife nat-born who looked down his nose as if the his men were two feet tall and being crushed under his boot.

Vader resists the urge to murder the lieutenant. He couldn’t bring the Emperors attention to focus on his child’s chosen guardian. But if the lieutenant tried anything, Vader didn’t think he could hold back from ripping out that man’s sarcophagus.
  
  The dragon rises in Vader’s chest as his child’s chosen stepped onto a shuttle. He reaches out a tendril, wrapping it around the clone. It’s thin, elastic too, and it stretches as the ship takes off.

That clone was his child’s. Hurting him would be punishable by death.

Chapter Text

Part 5:

Crosshair’s hand shake as he’s put on the shuttle. He grips his fingers hard, trying to get them to stop, but he can’t. “I just killed my commanding officer.” He thinks numbly. “What am I going to tell Luca.”

Crosshair eyes the trooper next to him. He wasn’t going to escape, he knew that. No matter how crazy he was, he knew when he was outnumbered. He closes his eyes, spots of fluorescent residue creating spots on the inside of his eyelids. The image of Mayday’s cooling body, limb and shivering, almost blue from the cold, rebounds at him at the speed of light. He clenches his jaw, and tries to focus on something else. Luca’s bright and happy face comes to mind, her giggles resounding through his head, and he shuts it down. He’s poked at from the back of his mind, Luca probably, and he attempts to hide his distress from the child.

“I just-“ Crosshair sighs, opening his eyes back up to slightly too bright red fluorescents gleaming off of white armor. He bundles his emotions tight to his chest and mentally shies away from Luca’s curious poking. He’s not very good at it, but they really don’t need to see what he did. Luca pokes harder, sharp this time, as if they’d lost patience with him, which didn’t make since because they were a one year old-oh.

Crosshair mentally slaps at the Luca-impersonator and grits his teeth. Constructing walls around his mind is harder then it sounds, especially with little stabbing motions from whatever- force-sensitive-decided-his-head-was-a-good-place-to-be, but he does it. Walls made of durasteel and beskar and his rioting emotions rise high around his mind. The Luca-Impersonator slows their assult, sharp anger tipped claws wrapping around the stones until they’ve practically merged themselves around Crosshair’s shields foundations. A thin wall of tiny angry needles.

The shuttle lands, and Crosshair is shoved off it. His durasteel walls turn to plastoid in an instant, but the needles don’t dive in past the cracks, they just fill them with a vibrating rage. Crosshair blinks in the new light, eyes adjusting quickly, as they always do. The troopers behind him take a few seconds longer. He can feel a headache building as the pressure at his temples and from behind his eyes combine.

The needles soften slightly as the man in-charge takes a step forward. Crosshair glares at him,
and the Luca-Impersonater raises an eyebrow at him.

“My name is Doctor Royce Hemlock.” He smiles at Crosshair, mocking and comforting at the same time. Hemlock’s smile reminds Crosshair of spoiled milk. Hemlock blinks politely as Crosshair sways slightly on his feet. “I don’t usually greet the incoming clones, but you have information I need.”

“Like what?” Crosshair snarls at Hemlock, shoving at the simmering needles surrounding his consciousness. Hemlock opens his mouth to respond and is interrupted by a com chime. The sound resonates in Crosshair’s ears, his headache tilting dangerously over the drop into migraine territory. He sways, he falls. Crosshair hits the ground, unconscious as Hemlock angrily answers the call.

“I will be visiting your facility to check up on the training of the TK’s.”

Hemlock wipes the annoyance off his face. “Of course. Lord Vader, correct?”

“ Yes .”

-

Vader was very good at lying. He was. He’d been practicing since he was born. Lying to Depur was a practiced art that Vader hadn’t quite perfected, but it was perfected enough. He’d acted impulsively when he felt his child’s chosen-Crosshair, he remembered now, he’d met the defective clone during the battle of Anaxes-in distress. He’d tried to pry subtly, but the man had noticed and shrunk away from him, sending a small scolding and a “Not now, Luca.” his way.

As amazing as knowing his child’s name was-his child’s name was Luca!-he had refused to just leave the man alone. Crosshair was his only connection to his child, his own interaction with his child had been fleeting, and had not left a stable bond behind. The only thing Vader had caught was their riotous force signature, and the fragmented thought projection of “Parent!”

His child’s force signature had calmed since, but the signature that clung to Crosshair was undeniably theirs. His child had claimed Crosshair. That made Crosshair one of Vader’s Own. And varp it all, the Emperor was not allowed to so much as touch one of Vader’s Own.

Vader touches down on Tantiss, familiar with the storms in the sky and the beasts on the ground. Tantiss was where he was put after Mustafar, it was where his suit had been constructed and molded onto his burnt and dying body. He’d destroyed many of the walls, and had plotted and planned the Emperors downfall here. (Though that had yet to come to pass.) He’d been moved out months ago when Hemlock had moved his labs here. But this was Vader’s home-base.

He had the power here. Hemlock did not.

Chapter Text

Part 6:

Luca was not a part of the story at this point, Lucia knew. All the main plot points of the Emipres rise had nothing to do with Luke Skywalker, except maybe that one point in The Revenge of the Sith when Anakin alluded to becoming a sith not only to save Padmé, but his kids too.

Luca has no control over the world’s stage-“Though”, Lucia supposes, “its technically the Galaxy’s stage now.”- and Luca never would. That was Palpatine, that was Leia, that was Mon Mothma’s stage. Luca could only nudge people from the sidelines into decisions that would further their goals.

Luca hated it, it made them feel icky and rotting every time they did it, after all this was how Palpatine did things-still does things. Playing the waiting game while the people around them were dying sounded like a horrible idea, but it was Luca’s only option. They were one, and they couldn’t even crawl, much less help refugees or yell at the senate.

Luca sends the thinnest tendril they can manage at Obi-buir. He’s been neglecting his six sense to the point where he can’t even tell it’s there, and Luca’s stomach churns with guilt as they wiggle through his shields and drift in Obi-Wan’s conscious.

“What was the plan again?” Luke asks, gruff voice is tired, but resigned.

“Find Maul’s force signature, or maybe Ventress’ honestly, I don’t really have a preference. It would probably be slightly easier to convince Maul but Ventress is less far fetched.” Lucia’s voice is more strained, her being much less used to guilt pressing down on her like a vise.

“Why?” Luke rifles through their shared memories before finding Lucia’s train of thought. “Ah, so Maul wants revenge on Palpatine but we’re already attached to Crosshair and Ventress we’re pretty sure joins the Bad Batch-“

“Cause she was in the trailer for season 3 but we died before we could watch that episode.” Lucia nods, eyes peeled for the memories she’s looking for. Luke does something with his fingers, his fragmented thoughts both resonating with and flying over Lucia’s head.

“Is this on the planning sheet?” Luke finally asks.
  
  Lucia reaches out and softly collects the feeling of Ventress’ force signature from one of Obi- Wan’s memories. “No. Would you like to add it?”

“Why are we doing a plan, that isn’t on the planning sheet?”

“Just cause it isn’t at the moment doesn’t mean that it’s not supposed to be, but just hasn’t been put down yet.”

“Nuisance.” Luke huffs.

“Old man.” Lucia smiles back, swiping Mauls force signature off of another memory.

-

Nield presses his forehead to Obi-Wan’s. The old holo of Cerasi, the last and only holo of Cerasi, played to the side. Cerasi’s death-day was always hard for Nield, but for Obi-Wan it was worse.

Cerasi had died in Obi-Wan’s arms after all. Luca squirms to get a better look at the girl in the holo. Because thats what she was. Cerasi has been fourteen, fifteen at most, when she’d died. But she was the glue, originally, that kept the two men holding Luca together. Now, Nield and Obi-Wan had been missing pieces of themselves for years, even when they’d found the pieces just as long ago, and knew that in order to stay whole they had to work for it.

“The offer still stands..”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, a sob filled laugh making its way out of his mouth. “I’m not going to marry you, Nield.”

“I know.” Nield drops his head onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder. I don’t want to lose you like I lost Cerasi hangs in the air. Obi-Wan’s wordless response rings out, Getting too close to me will get you hurt, Nield.

Both of them act as it neither of them can tell what the other said. Luca feels like they’re interrupting a private moment. Cerasi’s holo loops, and starts all over again.

Chapter Text

Part 7:

Crosshair wakes up strapped to a table, with a women standing over him. The needles of anger haven’t left him alone, and the fluorescent lights stab even more needles into his eyes.

“What.” Crosshair barely manages to get out, his tongue feeling too large in his mouth, and fuzz still on the edge of his plastoid and needle covered consciousness.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.” The women says softly. “Cooperate and you may survive.”

She sticks him in the neck with something, and Crosshair prays Luca’s okay as his vision blurs and he loses control of his consciousness. The plastoid falters and cracks, the needles sharpen as they fill the holes, and Crosshair idly notes that he recognizes the voice that echos as his shields shatter completely.

“No.”

Crosshair can’t remember who it belongs to.

-

Vader stands in front of Hemlock, red in his vision, and dragon roaring in his ears. He forces himself to to listen to the varped Doctor’s words, though all he wants to do is let the dragon lose and go find His Own.

“I wasn’t expecting the Emperor to send anyone to check on the TKs. Though admittedly after that one break in, its not that suprising-“

“That is exactly why I was sent.” Vader forces the worlds out of his voice modulater. “The Emperor does not appreciate the potential exposure, and therefore failure, of his plans. I am here to ensure that you do not... destroy the success of his plans.”

Hemlock nods, lips pressing together in thought. “Of course. Shall I give you a tour?”

Vader opens his dry, cracked lips to refute the doctor, to tell him that he already had memorized the bases blueprints, that he had lived here for months before the Emperor had him kicked out to make way for Hemlock, before he closes them again. Taking the tour would give him an excuse to look for His Own. He takes Hemlocks metaphorical raised hand.

“That would be, acceptable.”

-

Vader, of course, did not actually have the Emperors permission to be here. This, Hemlock knew quite well. He had sent a message to the Emperor requesting clarification on Vader’s arrival and gotten a quite confused message back about half a rotation ago, and had been instructed to keep any information regarding Project Necromancy far away from the Sith Apprentice walking beside the Doctor.

Both of the two were obviously playing each other. Hemlock was well aware what the Tantiss facility had been used for before he’d been moved into it. Vader did not need a tour. The fact that he had accepted one was suspicious. Hemlock would watch, and then he would report. The Emperor was very obviously not pleased with Vader at the moment, so why not take advantage of that?

-

Hemlock and Vader get their answers at the same time, though they are asking wildly different questions. Emerie Karr walks up to report as they enter the lab, and Vader ignores her. His focus, red behind his visor, is locked on CT-9904.

Crosshair, Vader notes, is floating blind and unmoored. His shields had fallen 20 minutes ago, and Vader’s consciousness is now the only protection of the bonds in the clones mind, one of which was currently active. He tightens his shields over Crosshair’s mind as gently as he can, making sure he’s not locking Luca out of the clones mind. Hemlock eyes him, Vader doesn’t care.

To tell the truth, Hemlock had asked for Vaders opinion on something and had gotten no response, but it was interesting to see that Vader’s true reason for coming her was because of a mere clone. CT-9904 was nothing special, aside from his connection to Nala Se’s assistant. A lover perhaps? Hemlock began to mentally draft a report to the Emperor. He would want to know of this new development.
     
 -

Luca presses close to Crosshair in the dreamscape, very concerned. Crosshair’s shields were almost nonexistent, and if that was all, then Luca could have melted into him if they really wanted to. But that wasn’t all. Vader’s aura covered Cross-Buir like a blanket, curling around him like a snake, or a loth-cat in the sun.

The protective anger turned into dull needles around Crosshair’s mind, a feeling Luca (well, Luke, at least,) is quite familiar with. They’d experienced it around themselves multiple times over the years, most notably right before the Emperor was thrown down a reactor shaft.

Luca had no idea why Vader was wrapped around Crosshair. And unfortunately Lucia was diagnosed with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder, so that was a bad thing.

Crosshair presses a kiss to Luca’s head. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Luca slips in between the cracks of Vaders protective stance around their buir. They cry harder.
 

Chapter Text

Part 8:

Sheev Palpatine, Dark Lord of the Sith, Sidious, former Senator of Naboo, former Chancellor of the Republic, Emperor, Master Manipulator, Controller of the Chosen One, Kin-killer, stared at the report on his desk.

It held a two hour long video of Darth Vader, obviously recorded by a security camera, staring at a clone. The only movement made by Vader over the entirety of the video was him inching closer until Vader was standing over the unconscious clone watching him sleep. It cut off after Vader had settled there, unmoving. The video had been sped up, because Hemlock obviously didn’t want to waste his time, but there was a time stamp in the corner, ticking off the minutes.

Sidious had devoured the notes Hemlock had added in addition to the video with an anger that shook the portraits on the walls; which had quickly morphed into a type of glee he hadn’t felt since he’d been told Skywalker and Amidala were married.

Vader had a habit of falling in love at first sight, Sidious knew, but he couldn’t for the life of him tell when he’d met the clone. Sidious pulled up CT-9904’s file.
This was going to be fun.

-

Maul stared at the two people in front of him.

“I’m surprised this worked, I was worried we’d show up as one person.” The woman-no, the girl- said, twisting to look at the scruffy old man. She looked like a spacer, messy hair pulled into a low ponytail with some kind of clip, and heavy-duty boots on her feet.

The man raises an eyebrow at her, a prosthetic hand’s skeleton is connected to his right wrist. “We specifically engineered it this way, kid.”

“Stop calling me kid.”

“No.”

“What,” Maul snarls, “is going on here?”

The two twist to look at him. “Oh.” The girl, shifts, as if suddenly embarrassed. “We’re here to recruit you to take down Sidious.”

Maul stares at her, and the man sighs. “We could have made such a better pitch.”

“I’m not giving him the run down of our plan, Luke, that’s dumb, do you know how fast he’d attempt to stab us in the back?”

Luke, the man’s name apparently, sighed. “We should have contacted the other one.”

“We can do that.”

Maul watches as they fade out of existence. They were really bad at recruiting people, he thinks hysterically.

-

Maul’s office is a mess. He can’t find the two people, and he also can’t put out bounties. He’s slowly loosing his mind before realizing their force signatures were a riotous force around him when they’d dragged him into that vision. He reaches out.

They reach back, he’s dragged back in again.

-

The girl is standing over him, her tangled ponytail hanging over her shoulder as she stares down at him.

“You do realize you reached halfway across the galaxy just to pass out in our mindscape right?”

“Do we need to hide the plans?”

“Probably.” The girl responds.

Maul hauls himself up into a sitting position, savoring the feeling around him. The two had so much power he was drowning in it with his shields low as they were. “I am-“ He sways, and the girl pushes him down so that he’s laying on his back.

“You gave yourself force exhaustion, stop trying to kill yourself.”

Maul gives a broken laugh. “You said you knew how to take down Sidious.”
  
  The girl smiles down at him. “We have a plan, yes, but we don’t have the resources to get it done.”

“It’s why we decided we needed you.” What’s-his-name, Luke, huffs from behind the girl. “You’ve got like 5 crime syndicates bowing to your every whim.”

“Also we thought it would be pretty easy to recruit you.” The girl settles on the floor besides Maul’s head.

“The Shadow Collective’s been disbanded.” Maul gets out, drunk on the feeling of the two’s existence and probably projecting his every thought into the air.

“We know.” The girl-lady-apprentice-whatever smiles at him. “But our souls were caught and tied together by some mystical shit-osik, sorry-and now we’re a one year old. So you still have a lot more staying power then we do.”

“Lucia!” Luke scolds his apprentice-child-lady (other-half? What did you call someone with two souls, Maul wonders.)

Lady Lucia defends herself with a fervor that reminds Maul of himself. Her words are harsh, poisoned in defense, and the two counterparts glare at each other over Maul’s unmoving body. Maul basks in the charged air, in the heavy power that covered him like a blanket. A one year old, Lady Lucia had said.

“Did you just restart from birth?” Maul wonders out loud, slurring slightly. The two counterparts turn to stare at him.

“Yes?” Luke responds. “Why?”

“Can I take the child as my apprentice?”

Lady Lucia laughs. Beautiful sound. “That might be a little hard, we’re a) halfway across the galaxy from you, and b) we’re Obi-Wan Kenobi’s kid, and he will fight you.”

Maul turns to stare at her, which is really more a loll of his head. “You’re too powerful to be a Kenobi.”

“Luke’s a Skywalker.”
  
  “Ah.” Maul moves his head back so that he’s staring at the ceiling. “Are you also a Skywalker, Lady Lucia?”

The lady laughs, her force signature wrapping around Maul’s unshielded mind as if to create a layer of plastoid or durasteel over it. “Of course! Why do you think we’re being raised by Kenobi?”

“I would like to marry you.” Maul says, unthinkingly. The signatures around him freeze, before Lady Lucia breaks into hysterical laughter, her signature moving along with her diaphragm.

“We’re both way to old and way to young for you at the same time.” She smiles, all teeth, but unthreatening. “I’m seventeen and Luke’s fifty three, and then there’s Luca whose one-and both of us technically-“

Lady Lucia’s laughter bounces off of Maul’s very atoms, vibrating down his spine and sharpening his senses to the point where he can’t tell what’s his thoughts and what he’s said out loud. I have to pledge myself to you somehow.

“I’m not a goddess, Maul. I don’t need to be worshiped.”

You should be.
 

Chapter Text

Part 9:

Luke pouts for days, and Lucia laughs until she cries. Luca is riotous and short tempered because of it, and Obi-Buir attempts to get them to eat a wet washcloth.

“I don’t think they’re teething Obi.” Nield comments after the fourth attempt.

“What else could be going on?!?” Obi-Wan looks like he’s going to cry, and Luca bands together to show him her non-existent teeth.

“Ahhhhhh!!” They exclaim. Nield and Obi-Wan turn to stare at the child.

“Well,” Nield says uneasily. “I don’t think it’s normal to be able to follow conversations before you can talk, but I’ve heard enough stories about your padawan to not be surprised.”

Obi-Wan groans. “Their reacting to some force thing I can’t feel, aren’t they.”

Nield shrugs. “I have no idea.”

-

Crosshair had been wrapped in more needles then he thought could exist when he’d first woken up. His shields had been shot, which was probably why, and a monolith of a droid was towering over him. Which meant Crosshair wasn’t blinded by the dull fluorescents, so he was thankful, but still.

The needles hadn’t left in the two weeks he’d been in the facility, and while the droid-thing did disappear sometimes it also followed Crosshair like some kind of a second shadow. Crosshair had gotten so used to the sound of the things cycling-breathing, maybe-that the only reason he could tell that the thing was there that people seemed to stand up straighter when the thing was there, they were more polite to him, they walked on eggshells as if Crosshair would be killed by a bomb in his brain if they said the wrong trigger word.

Crosshair often couldn’t even tell when the thing left, the world suddenly just too quiet, and everyone just a hair more rude then they were five minutes ago. It was jarring. Hemlock approaches Crosshair with a strained smile.

“You have information I’d like to know. Would you please give it to me?”
  
  Crosshair glances behind him, the droid-thing standing behind him silently, its optics were focused on Crosshair as they usually were, but they slowly turn to stare at Hemlock.

“What type of information do you want from him?” Crosshair almost jumps out of his skin as it speaks.

“Yes, what do you want from me?” Cross gives Hemlock a falsely confident smirk.

“You know the location of someone I need to find.”

Crosshair stares at Hemlock. “The kid.” The needles stab at his brain. “Ow.”

“Apologies.”

Crosshair turns to stare at the droid-jedi-thing. “Why did you decide you needed to stab my brain at the thought of Omega?”

“Who?”

Oh, Cross thinks, it-he-she-they thought I meant Luca. That should have been sending Crosshair into a panic, but for some reason it didn’t. The sharp warning pain had been there and then gone, warning more of the same if Crosshair had even tried to say anything. It was something that Crosshair would have done too, a warning shot before they went in for the kill.

“Lord Vader was most likely jealous.” Hemlock says, straight faced and completely serious.

“Of what?” Crosshair waves his hand in Vader’s general direction. “My dashing good looks?”

Hemlock lowers his gaze, locking eyes with Crosshair. “You are aware Lord Vader is in love with you, correct?”

The needles turn indignant, and dis-believing, echoing Crosshair’s inner turmoil. Crosshair bursts out laughing. He turns to Vader, slightly crazed smile on his face. “Was it the dashing good looks?”

Vader stares at him, and Crosshair nudges at the needles surrounding his brain, sending his humor and the I’m being sarcastic feeling at the force user. Vader makes a buzzing sound, which paired with the softened needles of indignant amusement, Crosshair realizes is a laugh.

“No. I’ve seen your face thousands of times before.”

“What was it then?”

Vader pauses, the cycling of his breather filling the space. “I’ve seen you sass people, it’s adorable.”

Crosshair stares at it-he-they-she-whatever. Did it just call him, cute? The words I am going to murder you make there way out of his mouth before he can stop them. Hemlock stiffens, and the needles soften in mirth.

“I would love to see you try.”

-

Hemlock represses his need to flinch as CT-9904 immediately threatens Lord Vader with bodily harm after the confession of Vader’s affections. He needed CT-9904 alive, and therefore it needed to stop reacting in ways that will get it decommissioned.

Vader shoots back, and Hemlock realizes that the two are kriffing flirting. Hemlock needs a drink. Unfortunately, he has a job to do, an assistant to find, and a report to the Emperor to write, and an Enforcer to keep from the knowledge of Tantiss’ inner workings.

He could get drunk later.
      

Chapter Text

Part 10:

Vader stood outside Crosshair’s cell, as he’d done every morning for the past two weeks. His limbs ache and rub against his prosthetics, and his lips crack as he tries to keep them from splitting. Vader watches the clone as he sleeps, his heart aching as Crosshair shifts and stirs.

“What.” Crosshair rubs at his face, curling slightly tighter into a ball.

”Hello.” Vader nudges Crosshairs shields. Tell me about Luca please.

“Hi.” Why.

“I’d like to know.” Please don’t keep my child from me.

“What.” What.

Vader tries to come up with something to say that would make sense to the security cameras. “You... I’d like to know you.” Please.

Crosshair swings his legs over the edge of his bed. “I..” He sighs. “I was the fourth of my squad decanted, I have enhanced eyesight, and am a sniper.” Luca is someone I’m not willing to tell you about.

Why not? Vader asks silently.

Because I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, Skywalker. And Luca is my kid, I refuse to let you hurt them.

Good. Vader projects. Don’t hurt them, I will kill you.

Crosshair resists the urge to raise his eyebrows at the cyborg. I would kill myself first.

Vader feels his knees go weak, and mentally curses his habit of falling in love by diving off the deep end. He pulls his tendrils back from Crosshair, pain growing in his chest. He was giving Sidious to many strings to pull on. I hate you, he wants to say. I think I’m starting to love you, he wants to say.

Vader clenches his teeth, and forces himself to snap out of it. He couldn’t. He was Padmé’s and Padmé was his and Crosshair was not a part of that equation.

-

Lucia stares at the exited half-zabrak in front of her. “What?”

Maul’s yellow-orange eyes gleem in excitement. “I have amassed disciples for you!”

“You started a cult?” Luke stares at Maul, before side-eying Lucia. “I blame you for this.”

 “Why?”

“You said we needed a bigger power base.”

“I said we needed a bigger galactic influence! I said nothing about starting a cult!”

Maul’s deranged smile falters. “Is it not to your liking M’Lady? I can adjust my approach.”

Lucia turns to stare quizzically at Maul, and Luke throws his hands in the air. “He doesn’t even acknowledge I exist Luce! You’re the problem here!”

Lucia glances back at her counterpart before turning back to Maul. “You are aware that Luke and I are the same person right?”

Honestly, she’d be surprised if Maul didn’t know that. Because a) they’d told Maul more then literally anyone else in the galaxy on the topic, and b) Luke and her had shared memories to the point where they sometimes forgot to separate who was who. As shown by Luke’s mutterings in the background about “I mean we’ve technically started a cult before, but-wait no that was me, shab.”

“Yeah old man, you’ve got no room to talk.” Lucia teases quietly.

Maul opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I... You are in charge are you not Lady Lucia? Surely your combined consciousness is female.” Luke turns to stare at Maul, before ultimately remembering the same thing that was causing Lucia to tolerate the “Milady” shit. “Oh, right, you’re Dathomiri.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Maul snarls, lips pulled over his teeth. Lucia was sure that if he’d been anymore cat-like his ears would have flattened against the sides of his head.

“Dathomir is a matriarchy.” Lucia deadpans. “Or at least has a matriarchal society.”

“What’s the difference?”

“No idea. Systematic oppression probably.”

Maul stares at them. “What?”

Lucia turns back to the zabrak. “Our shared form is genderless, actually. We are neither male or female, yet both at the same time.”

“So you’re intersex.”

“No.” Their voices layer, and then merge into one that they recognize as what-will-be-Luca’s. Luca only had one set of genitals at any given moment. That was not- Lucia takes a deep breath. “We’re gender-fluid. And non-binary actually.”

Maul cocks his head at them, obviously confused with Luke and her’s explanation. Lucia briefly wonders whether any part of the LGBTQ+ community exists/was accepted in the Star Wars Universe. Most of what was there was queerbaiting after all, and it even with Aphra it wasn’t clear whether or not being gay was deemed socially acceptable. Luca’s pronouns were respected well enough, though that might be due to most people believing their gender changes had something to do with force osik.

Luke laced his hands together and lets his robes flow over his wrists until you couldn’t see his hands through the fabric. His Jedi-Master pose, as Lucia called it. And then he began: “The force does not have a gender. Neither do the storms or the stars. They are constantly changing, following the waves, the flames, the wind, yet static all the same. Constant and steady. We have no gender either, one day we are male, once female, but also never one of them. We are the storms, we are the stars, we are the force. We sing, we thrash, we burn. We are all and nothing at the same time.”

“You’re really not helping.” Lucia comments as she see’s Maul’s eyes widen in awe.

“Well he understands now doesn’t he?”

“You just gave him more reason to start a cult.”

“Oh, shab.”

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

Part 11:
Vader comes back everyday to have an identical conversation with Crosshair. Hi, how are you, tell me about yourself, please don’t keep my child from me.

Crosshairs responses are always the same. Hi, I’m fine, here is standard info you could find out
from my file, I don’t trust you with my kid.

They do this for months. Its one of Crosshair’s few good moments in the day, monotonous as it is, it’s almost as good as talking to Omega-who Crosshair had specifically told Hunter to keep away for Hemlock, thank you very much, not that his brother ever seemed to listen to him.

I really don’t want to talk right now. Crosshair sends one day, instead of his usual response. The needles, which had retreated lately, poke at him in concern. Luca has the stomach flu and my consciousness is covered in barf, it’s disgusting.

Are they okay? Lord-Vader/General-Skywalker/Crosshair-had-never-asked responds.

Probably, I’m not the only one taking care of the little womp-rat, so...

Vader stays silent, though Crosshair had expected him to stab at him for insulting Luca, even fondly as it was. Who else is taking care of them?

Crosshair resists the urge to shrug in place, and curls himself into a tighter ball instead. I don’t know. Luca call’s them variations of Buir though, so they’re good at their jobs.

What does that mean.

What?

Buir.

It’s Mando’a. Crosshair sighs. It means “parent.”

-

Nield did not appreciate being covered in baby spit up, and made it known, though he still for some reason decided to go to some kind of governmental council meeting covered in it. Obi-Wan had told him to change, he swore.

But then again, Luca thought, Nield’s been trying to claim Obi- Wan and I as family for months now, so maybe he’s just backing Obi-Wan into a corner.

Luca honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, and was semi-prepared to wingman him, having managed to say their first words in the silence of their pram a few days ago. They’d managed “N’Bu” “Bi’Bu,” and “Os’Bu” with some difficulty, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was close enough. She’d managed to pepper them into a babble conversation with Cross-Buir before she’d thrown up all over him at least.

They hated having to relearn how to talk.

Obi-Wan attempts to feed Luca more mash, of what Luca wasn’t sure, but according to the Jedi Master’s rambles they had deduced that it was supposed to steady their stomach. It tasted like a guava applesauce, and Luca both liked and hated it, because it was most likely Meiloorun. They weren’t sure, they hadn’t had one in a while.

Nield came back with a grin on his face and permanently stained clothes. “I will have you know that I was told that the council was not aware I had gotten married.”

“Please tell me you denied it.”

“Nope!”

“Nield!”

-

Omega watches the giant dark mass of armor leave and then sneaks up on Crosshairs cell.“What was that about?”

“He’s in love with me, according to Hemlock.” Crosshair shifts to stare at Omega. “I’m used to keep him in line just as much as you are in regards to Nala Se.”

“Oh.” Omega stares Crosshair shifts to stare back at the ceiling. “Do you like him back?”

Crosshair opens his mouth to retort, halfway up on his elbows in indignation before he pauses. All the air flies out of him, like he’d been made of balloons-Omega resists a giggle at that.

“I don’t know.” Crosshair admits, staring at the wall where he’s carved the picture of a tooka-he didn’t know why he’d done that either. “I suppose I might. I met him before, during the war. He was on the mission where we found Echo. He was... nice, for a Nat-Born.”

Omega feels like squealing. She could never get Crosshair to talk about The Batch. “What was that mission like?”

Crosshair doesn’t respond.

Chapter Text

Part 12:
The conditioning was something Crosshair was constantly having to blink out of his eyes. They’d tried to get him to become one of the operatives many times but it never seemed to stick. The Ex-Jedi had tried to stop it from happening multiple times, but Crosshair kept being sent back in.

Crosshair takes a deep breath, shaky. The conditioning had included electricity again, and Crosshair couldn’t get his hands to stay still. He’d failed on his sniper test because of it. Nala Se sighs as she runs the scanner over his hands.

“There is slight nerve damage, easily fixable, though it’s a long process.”

Hemlock hums. “Doesn’t matter, the Emperor has decided that CT-9904 is prime material for The Operatives. This one will survive, and thrive, even if it takes slightly longer then with the rest.”

General Vader rests his hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. “Why is this necessary?”

“The Emperor can’t have just anyone as His Fist’s partner. CT-9904 needs to be brought up to par. Would you like to escort him back to his quarters? We have a guest arriving tomorrow.”

Lord Skywalker is gentle in his mental nudge, Crosshair’s aching mind already feeling like it was being stabbed, the ex-Jedi knew. Crosshair slides off the exam table and leans into the monster-like man’s side. He was safe here, tucked underneath the arm of his child’s father. Leather gloved hand pulling him close and black armor-weave cape brushing against The Operative’s-no, Crosshair’s, heels.

His Vader-Skywalker-General-Lord pulls Crosshair impossibly closer to his side, a shield stretching out in protection against Hemlock and the needles stabbing at Crosshairs brain. His Lord-General wasn’t usually soft, Crosshair had noted over the months. He was anger personified often, a roaring dragon in the waste; just never to The Operative-no, CT-9904. No. Crosshair, his name was Crosshair.

No, his Lord-General was never anything but protective when it came to Crosshair and their child. Soft and there, but willing to kill at Crosshair’s lightest request. Crosshair lays his forehead against the clip of his Lord-General’s cape, and takes a breath. Oil, blood and leather, along with the faint hint of sage, fill Crosshair’s nose. He was safe.
    
  Crosshair blinks the conditioning out of his eyes one more time and then detangles his shaking hands from his Lord-General’s armored tunic. It was time to go.

-

Vader felt as if the dragon was destroying him from the inside out. And maybe it had. On one hand, he had promised himself to Padmé. On the other hand she had betrayed him with Kenobi in the end. On a third hand, his growing attachment to Crosshair was getting out of hand and gaining much un-needed attention, and on the fourth hand-which was mechanical and had been attached after Mustafar-the clone had begun returning his budding affections.

Just keep Luca away from Palpatine, Vader tries to tell himself. That will be enough. But he’d always cared to much. It’d be his downfall. He needed to find a way to keep His Own safe. He wraps a layer of soft protection over Crosshair. His Own; Padmé, Crosshair, Luca, (not Obi-Wan, not anymore), Ahsoka, his mother, (Palpatine wasn’t on the list anymore either), the 501st; he wouldn’t lose his own, Vader swears.

The dragon purrs in his chest. Yes. You could have more then one great love. It seems to tell him.

Vader tucks Crosshair into his side for a second as the door to the clone’s glorified cell is opened. He’d had his great love, thank you very much. But, Vader supposes, Crosshair hasn’t had his yet.

The dragon purrs again, and Vader wishes that he was made of more than pain and metal and broken flesh. That he could press a kiss to the top of Crosshair’s buzzed head as a way of saying goodbye, goodnight, I-love-you. But he couldn’t. Vader lets Crosshair feel the purr in his chest instead, and hopes it tells him everything that Vader wanted to say.

Crosshair steps out from under Vader’s arm, and collapses onto his bunk. He’s asleep almost immediately, and Vader leaves with a heart that wanted to stay.

-

Crosshair is almost always bathed in Vader’s signature, Luca notes, thin and translucent like a wedding veil is draped over Cross’ eyes and face. Today is no exception. Normally they don’t pay much attention to it, but Crosshair had wrapped it around himself like a blanket today, and had almost dragged Vader into the dreamscape with them.

Luca really wasn’t sure whether she liked where this was going. Cross’buir’s kisses to her cheeks left burning ghosts behind, reminiscent of Luca’s father, and Crosshair had a look in his eyes when he looked at them that was just a tiny bit too proud. A tiny bit too much like the look Leia gave Ben when comparing him to Han, or the look Nield gave Luca when comparing her to Obi- Wan.

Luca really didn’t think that a relationship with their father was the healthiest thing for Crosshair to dive headfirst into. After all no matter how much they had glorified the man in their head, he was still a possessive, slightly abusive, and altogether fucking terrifying asshole. Though Luca supposes they should start using kriff instead of fuck? At least then the people around them would recognize they were swearing.

Luca buried their face into Cross’buir’s shoulder and gets a kiss on the head in return. “Fuck,” Lucia thinks at Luke. “I think we might have fucked up canon more then we thought.”

Luke stares at her from the recesses of their mind. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“Yes?” Lucia gestures towards the plan floating in their consciousness. “We were prepared for unexpected hurdles, we are prepared. I just wasn’t expecting the hurdle to be having a step-parent suddenly.”

Luke stares at Lucia, as if trying to get her to focus in on a thought he’s refusing to project at her. “How many parents do we have currently?”

“Are we counting Leia’s?”

“No.”

Lucia counts on her fingers quietly, before swearing under her breath and restarting. “Okay, so we have mine, obviously, though I’m not sure they count because they aren’t Luca’s. So that’s two, plus our birth parents, plus your versions of them, that’s six. We’ve got Obi-Wan and Nield, plus Cerasi, who’s added posthumously because they’re one person in three bodies-“

“They’re really not.”

“Shut up. Anyway, that’s nine, plus Crosshair, ten. If we’re including parental figures and technicalities then that’s fourteen parents. Boom.”

“Who are the last four?”

“Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, and Leia’s parents.”

Luke sighs. “So nine.”

“No we have fourteen. Plus a couple million Uncles, and like, seventeen Aunts.”

“Why are you in charge of taking down Sidious again?”

“I have no idea. Also I never said I was in charge. I’m seventeen, not counting the time as Luca, and I have way less experience than you here, so...”

“Just cause I’m fifty three doesn’t mean I’m anything special.”

“...You’re the force’s grandson.”

-

Crosshair is woken by Omega the next day, and he blinks the conditioning out from behind his eyelids before turning to her.

“What.”

“I need you to cause a distraction.”

“What.”

“We’re escaping!” Omega’s smile is large and slightly terrified, and Crosshair’s mind wants to replace her brown eyes for lorthern blue for a second. But this was not Luca.

“You found a weak point?” The Operative-no,Crosshair, ends up asking.

“Not really, I’m improvising.”

“That is a horrible idea.” Crosshair mutters as he swings his legs off his bunk. “Why are you even going through the trouble of getting me out?” He asks louder.

“I’m not leaving you behind.” Omega disappears behind the curve of the hallway after that, and Crosshair sighs before standing.

“Children.” He mutters, before adjusting his tone. “Guards!” He yells. “Do we know the protocol for if someone is dying?”

The guards swivel and make there way over to him, concerned. Crosshair would be concerned too, he has no idea where that question had even sprung from.

“Is someone?” Reg One asks.

“Is there a protocol?” Reg Two badly whispers at his partner.

“I don’t know.” Reg One badly whispers back. “But I really don’t want to be the reason Lord Vader’s Lover is killed.”

Crosshair can see Omega slides the data-pad in her hand into the port, beginning to open his cell. She’s not gonna be able to do it, a tiny part of him says, she’s not going to have the code- Omega begins to input the code.

“What about the protocol for if someone’s escaping?” He asks, getting ready to tackle the regs.

“What?” Reg One asks. The door to Crosshair’s cell opens and he tackles trooper closest to him, grabbing his gun and shooting Reg Two quickly, before taking the Reg he’s holding out too.

“Come on!” Omega calls. Crosshair follows.

Chapter Text

Part 13:

The next few days were a blur for Crosshair, but he vaguely remembers being called paternal by someone and having glanced at the back of Omega’s head. He hadn’t been able to see her eyes at the time, and he’d been glad for it, because he knew he would have been thrown of balance in that moment had they not been lorthern blue.

He shoots his firepuncher again, feeling the now unfamiliar recoil of the rifle, and swearing under his breath as he misses the fruit in the floating droids hand. Again. He groans and cocks his gun, lining the shot back up again.

Inhale and center your crosshairs on the target, make sure to shoot between heartbeats, exhale as you pull the trigger. The shot goes wide again.

“Hi, Crosshair!” Omega calls from above him. He sighs. Sometimes he wondered whether his kid would be anything like his sister, and then he immediately prayed to his Lord-General’s force that their child would be nothing like Omega. Omega got into way to many firefights for Crosshair’s liking, and he would not be able to deal with two of her.

He lowers his firepuncher and twists to greet her with a nod, before twisting back to focus on his target.

“Greetings, Omega!” AZI proclaims, holding another fruit out for Crosshair to hit. The droid had steady hands at least.

“So, Shep and Lyana found you?” Crosshair can see Omega gesture to the basket of fruit that
the what-was-he-the-governer-mayor-Crosshair-didn’t-know had left on the rock for him. The man was obnoxiously friendly in Crosshair’s opinion, and his daughter had obviously inherited the trait. Cross didn’t want Luca to be anything like that child either, but then again Luca was the only child Crosshair actually consistently liked, so.....

“Yes. There ability to do so is...” worrying, Crosshair wants to say. “uncanny.” The only other people who had been able to find him that consistently were Hunter and his Lord-General. Crosshair had reinforced his shields to the point that they were practically beskar, but Shep and Lyana found him anyway. Crosshair was slowly becoming very concerned about it.

One heartbeat, two, pull the trigger, three. He swears under his breath as the bolt misses the fruit in the droids hand by millimeters.

 “I know what you’re doing Crosshair, you can’t hide from Hunter forever.” Omega sits herself down on the rock next to him, and Crosshair is suddenly very aware that the last words out of his mouth were in no way child appropriate.

“I’m not hiding.” Crosshair sighs. “I’m training.” His only use to the squad had been his sniper skills, before. It had been his only use to the Empire before Tantiss too. If he couldn’t shoot properly then he was useless to them. Crosshair shakes out his trembling hand and tries to shoot the stupid fruit again.

“I’m sure AZI could look at your hand for you if you asked you know.” Crosshair can see Omega smile at him in his peripherals. The lurca hound his sister had adopted barks in his ear, and he can feel the start of a headache building behind his eyes. Luca never gives me headaches, he can’t help but think. He mentally shakes himself. It wasn’t fair to Luca or Omega if he compared the two.

“I’m fine.” Crosshair mutters. He highly doubted the droid could heal nerve damage anyway. One heart beat, two, exhale, shoot, three heartbeats. The blaster bolt clips the side of the fruit, which is.. progress, Crosshair supposes. He still wasn’t good enough. He had to be good enough.

“So what do you have to do to become a sniper? You know besides having good eyesight.” Omega asks awkwardly, snapping Crosshair out of his brooding spiral. He blinks at her, and attempts another shot. Shoot between heartbeats, exhale as you pull the trigger.

“Being a sniper is more than just looking through a scope.” It helped to have one, of course, but Crosshair had a habit of ignoring his scopes existence, and some of the most famous snipers of all time hadn’t used them at all. “Its about patience, reading the environment, and... knowing when you have eyes on you.” Crosshair resists the urge to look directly at Hunter and Wrecker as he said it. They’d showed up on the ridge again, untrusting and overprotective.

“You’ll have to talk to them eventually Cross.”

He hums his acknowledgment. He really didn’t want to talk to Hunter. Crosshair had a habit of being torn apart at the seams when Hunter pulled at the loose threads holding Cross together with his words. He didn’t want to end up in a fist fight. He also didn’t need Hunter deciding to take Luca away from him, because Cross knew that Hunter would attempt to do that. A ship flies over head, and Crosshair can hear Omega exclaiming about Echo. Crosshair stands, and slings his rifle over his shoulder.

Time to face the music, he supposes.

Chapter Text

Part 14: 1/2

Lucia stares at the planning sheet in front of her. It was both covered in ideas and completely blank at the same time. Most of the ideas on the sheet were based around something completely unrelated to the thing they were currently trying to do.

Taking down Palpatine was a column on the sheet that was completely empty. Preventing the Rise of the First Order, and Structuring of the New Republic, and Freedom Trails were columns that were so full that they’d had to add more flimsi-paper-mental-energy-stuff to the sheet in order to get all of them down, but Taking down Palpatine barely had any bulletpoints at all.

“You okay?” Luke asks, lowering himself down into a crouch slowly. “You’ve been staring at the sheet for like, twenty minutes.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Which one you looking at?” Luke tugs the sheet towards him. Lucia points wordlessly. Luke sighs. “Ah.”

“Should we contact Father?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Lucia. “Vader.” Lucia corrects herself.

“You can call him your father. He is technically, I just know thats also the title of our dad-your dad. Robert. Kriff.”

Lucia laughs as Luke buries his face in his hands. “I know. We’ve been the same person for too long.”

“Why would we need to contact him exactly? Because I can’t read your mind, no matter how much we are the same person.”

“Do you remember those fan-fictions where Vader kills Sidious and then sticks Leia on the throne as empress?”

“I don’t want to be in charge of the entire galaxy.”

“Neither do I. But we might have to, especially in order to get the rest of the columns figured out.”
  
  Luke stares at the sheet and sighs. “Should we do it the way we did Maul?”

“We can project fully formed thoughts, right?”

“That is literally what we are doing right now, Luce.”

“Great.”

-

Vader stares out of the window of his Mustafar palace, the size of which he was still unused to. The lava river illuminated the dark sky, and Obi-Wan’s voice rings in his ears. You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you! Vader turns away.

His personal quarters were drab and lifeless, the only real personality to the room was the dramatic swooping of the rafters. It was not child-safe at all. Vader had checked. Unacceptable, but unchangeable. The techs left to his care after he’d been transferred here from Tantiss were very obviously Sidous’ spies, and Vader could not-would not- risk his child by attempting renovations. The dragon in his chest did not like the waiting, and it rioted every time he tried to push it back in order to not lash out.

The dragon in his chest didn’t like being contained. Anakin watched sometimes as it controlled his actions, helpless to do anything to stop it, rooted to the metaphorical floor. Vader was the dragon, and the dragon was Vader, and Vader was Anakin, but Anakin was not the dragon. Vader wondered sometimes whether that was an analogy that followed the rest of his life.

Padmé was Anakin’s, and Anakin was Padmé’s, and Vader was Anakin, so therefore Padmé was Vader, but Vader was the dragon and Anakin wasn’t so Padmé was Anakin’s, and Crosshair could be Vader’s, despite Crosshair not being Padmé’s because Padmé was dead. Honestly Vader tried not to think about it, it made his head hurt. Vader goes to reach out, to check on Crosshair and doesn’t make it more then three feet past his shield before he’s ambushed by a force signature that both makes the dragon purr and riot at the same time.

“Hello Father.” Luca says. Vader wraps his signature around them like a blanket, like he often does-did-for Crosshair. Their voice is more mature then their actual age, outer rim accent on display like a badge of honor, but also tinged with with something distinctly Mandolorian. Whether it was Sundari or Concord Dawn or the creole with Kaminoan that tinged the voice of every clone trooper he’d ever met, Vader wasn’t sure. But this was Luca. This was his child.

“Hello.” Vader sends back at them, soft like he hasn’t been in a long time. He’s almost back to being Anakin Skywalker for a single moment.

“Neither of you won the bet by the way.”

“What.”

“I mean technically you did, because I have a twin sister, but when it comes to me the bet, just, completely failed.” Luca’s word send Vader spinning, I have a twin sister, Luca had said. He had two children, he had-where was the other one?

You have a sister? He wants to ask. What his scrambled brain ends up projecting instead is a baffled question about whatever bet Luca is talking about.

“Mother said we’d be a boy, and you said and I quote “A kick that hard? Definitely a girl.” And I’m neither, so you both lost. Well, when it comes to me at least. Leia last I checked was female, but we were also separated immediately after being born to protect us from Sidious, so.... You know, I can’t exactly ask her.”

Leia. Vader turns over in his mind. His daughter’s name was Leia. He’d picked that name. His daughter had been given the name he’d hand picked from the legends. His daughter was named after the great krayt. Luca and Leia. His children.

“But thats not why I’m here.” Vader hones in on Luca’s voice in a second. “I need your help.”

“ Who hurt you.”

Luca projects their sudden humor at him. “No one. I have a plan to take down Palpatine. We- I’ve decided that we need your help.”

Vader wonders about his child’s sudden slip up, and then decides not to ask. It was probably referring to Crosshair anyway. Who else would they be talking about.

“Go on.”
   
  -

Vader stares at the wall, mourning the loss of his eldest’s signature. Luca had left, and his paper-thin bond to them had ripped in attempting to get them to stay. We’ll work from our end to take down Project Necromancy, and you work from your end to murder your master. We’ll go from there. They had said.

Little Gods, he hoped his eldest child knew what they were doing. He turns to his messy workspace and begins hunting for a datapad. Now to find his other small child.

-

Part 14: 2/2

Luca wasn’t sure mentioning Leia was the best idea. It was probably their worst idea yet. Unfortunately they were a Skywalker, and while they weren’t able to be reckless with a lightsaber or a blaster or a kriffing speeder-force forbid- recklessness was still a part of their DNA and that meant they didn’t always think things through.

Luke has had this curse for fifty-three years. Lucia, well, she was slowly dying of anxiety after running her mouth-even though Luca doesn’t really manage to do things coherently unless Luke and Lucia are in at least seventy percent agreement with each other.

Luca ends up having a meltdown when Nield attempts to feed them jogan fruit mush. It wasn’t that Luca didn’t like jogan fruit mush, it just wasn’t her favorite. Jogan fruit tasted like some kind of orange and peach hybrid, and those weren’t Luca’s favorite either. Their tiny baby brain was already stressed out. You couldn’t exactly blame Luca for starting to cry.

Nield panicked though. And Obi-Wan tried to help, but that wasn’t exactly helpful, he hadn’t dealt with crechelings very often after all. Meltdowns, unlike sith, were not his specialty.

-

The Opr-Crosshair blinks the conditioning out of his eyes. “There’s more you should know.” They turn to stare at him, and Crosshair ignores Hunter, locking eyes with Rex like its the only thing keeping him alive. “Not all of the clones on Tantiss are prisoners.”

Hunter raises his eyebrows, and Rex rocks on the balls of his feet before ultimately leaning in to hear Crosshair’s lowered voice better.

“Some-some are loyal to the Empire. There’s a faction of clones who have been indoctrinated into a top-secret program run by Hemlock and his goons. They go through a specialized training and conditioning, their identities are erased. The few that make it out come out....different.”

“If its so secretive, then how do you know about it?” Howzer snarls at him.

Because I’m currently blinking the conditioning out of my eyes. Crosshair wants to say. “They tried to make me into one.”

Howzer stares at him, and Crosshair rolls his eyes. “They didn’t succeed obviously, being defective is in my nature after all.”

“We’ve encountered a few of those.” Rex muses. “There was an assassin on Corusaunt.” Crosshair narrows his eyes at the Captain, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt-he was General Vader’s right hand man after all- but able to tell that the clone was leaving something out.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Hunter asks, drawing out the question as if that would make Rex more willing to answer.

Howzer and Rex make eye contact and then shift uncomfortably. “We captured one.” Rex admits.

“And they’re alive?” Crosshair asks, suddenly unsure of whether he trusts General Vader’s right hand. Rex nods. “That’s impossible.” The words are out before he even realizes he thought them.

“What are you talking about.” Hunter stares at him.

“The Empire would be all over us.”

“We scanned them for trackers.” Howzer snarls. “We’re not idiots.”

“It’s not something you can find with a normal scanner!” Crosshair grips at his ribs, feeling the phantom of the chip that they had inserted underneath his skin. He didn’t have the remote, that had been given as a gift to General Vader, and he was lucky that it wasn’t one of the ones that exploded. “Hemlocks smarter then that.”

“Would you like to see him?” Rex shifts closer to Crosshair as if it would be comforting. Its not. Right hand or not, Rex did not have the same aura of safe as General Vader did.

“You know, I wasn’t going to ask...” One of Rex’s men starts. “But theres a encrypted file inside this.” He waves the puck in the air. “Which is weird because why encrypt something already hidden behind encryption-“
  
  “May I?” Crosshair holds out his hand, and everyone flinches. No one trusts him here, except maybe Omega, he was aware of that. He wasn’t expecting them to flinch if he moved too fast. The clone holding the puck reaches out tentatively, and dropped it in Crosshair’s hand. He blinks. “This isn’t an encryption.”

“What.”

“Its a code.” Crosshair sighs. He throws a small smirk at Howzer. “Looks like I am on the list, after all.” He points at the string on the puck. “CT-9904. Bring back alive. And then theres a file link that holds my picture and anything else thats needed to know about the job.”

He throws the puck back to its hacker. The group around him stares at him. Omega stares at the puck.

“Are you on the list because they attempted to turn you into an operative, or because your natborn was like, the same rank as Hemlock?”

Hunter splutters. And Crosshair raises his eyebrow at his little sister. “Would you like me to check the puck?”

She grins at him. And Howzer snarls behind him.

“Your Natborn, huh?”

“I don’t know his name.” Omega shrugs. “But he was kinda obsessed with Cross. Cross seemed to just be incredibly annoyed at him the few times I managed to catch their interactions. According to Cross he was a part of the mission to rescue Echo from the Separatists?”

Rex stumbles backward, knocking the helmet behind him to the floor. “You- General Skywalker’s a part of the Empire?”

Crosshair sighs. “I’m not entirely sure if he goes by Skywalker anymore. He’s generally referred to as Vader.” He drags his hand down his face. “Which is supposed to be classified. But I guess I’m an idiot for trusting that piece of information to a child.”

“And he’s on Tantiss.”

“Last I checked, yes. But he might have left by now.” Crosshair blows the air out of his lungs. “The Operative?”

“Right.” Rex fumbles for his fallen helmet, and hooks his arm through Cross’. “You are telling me everything. Little Gods, if my Jedi is being experimented on-“

“I don’t think he’s quite a Jedi anymore either.” Crosshair mutters.

“What does that even mean??” Rex hisses at him. Crosshair shrugs. He wasn’t quite sure how
to explain it.
 

Chapter Text

Part 15:

Luca wonders sometimes what would have happened if they’d had been sent back to earlier. If they’d been dropped into the middle of the Clone Wars, fully grown. It would’ve been more fun than relearning how to walk and talk. Luca rolls over onto their back, ignoring Nield’s cheers. It would have been much easier too.

At least then they wouldn’t have to rely on third parties.

Nield presses a kiss to Obi-Wan’s ear, and Luca watches as the Jedi-Master squirms away from his husband. They hadn’t actually had a wedding, but the people of Melida/Daan who were old enough to remember the end of Melida/Daan’s Age of War had recognized Obi-Wan immediately as Nield’s missing third, and everyone else had been convinced by Nield showing up to a governmental meeting covered in baby spit up.

He’d given half of Melida/Daan’s planetary congress the stomach flu.

Obi-Wan laughs as he finally wiggles his way out of Nield’s grasp and scoops up Luca. “Congratulations, my dear heart.” He coos at them. “You’re mobile.”

Luca flails their arms at their parents in victory. Nield barrages his small family with kisses, and the three end up tangled on the floor.

“Your beard is growing back.” Nield whispers into the crook of his husbands neck, forehead pressed against stubble and mouth centimeters away from his child’s wispy hair. Obi-Wan sighs.

“I’ll have to shave.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m a baby. Luca thinks, breathing in the smell of tea leaves, baby powder, Muja Muffins, and cologne that make up their parents. I have someone who cares. I have a lot of people who care. If I’d just dropped out of the sky, they wouldn’t care. Right?

-

Vader stares at the wall, mourning the loss of his eldest's signature. Luca had left, their paper-thin bond ripping in his attempt to get him to stay. it had been the only thing connecting the two of them. We'll work from our end to take down Project Necromancy, and you work from your end to murder your master. They had said. We'll go from there.

Little Gods, he hoped his eldest child knew what they were doing. He turns to his messy workspace and begins hunting for a datapad. Now to find his other child.

Chapter Text

Part 16:

“There is a cult worshiping force users that I need you to take down.” Sidious says from the other end of the holo. Vader grits his teeth, his limbs screaming in pain due to his kneeling position on the floor. There are so many things that he could be doing besides this. Something to Sidious’ side pings, and he turns to look at it. Vader resists the urge to shift into a more comfortable position, it would make to much noise, get him killed.

Vader couldn’t die. Luca had given him a mission in order to bring their family back together, and Vader would kill Sidious if it was the last thing he did.

“Ah, never mind. Dr. Hemlock has found your lover. Bring him home will you?” Sidious’ eyes sparkle just a bit to much at that, and the dragon in Vader’s chest revolts. Vader die before he let Sidious touch Crosshair, which was slightly controversial considering Vader’s promise to Luca, but still.

“Thank you, my master.” Vader presses his gloved prosthetic to the floor so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t break. “I will.”

Don’t worry, mine own. Vader whispers in the recesses of his own mind. You’ll be safe soon. Vader wonders idly whether under his wing was actually safer then wherever Crosshair was at the moment. Crosshair was somewhere it was very hard for Sidious to hurt him. 

So would having him next to Vader actually protect him? Vader didn’t like that kriffing sparkle Sidious held in his eyes like a trophy. The fact that Vader’s Own was more important of a mission to Sidious than taking down a force cult was something that made the dragon roar in Vader’s chest.

Vader barely registers Sidous’ purr of Good, or that the holo-call ends. The dragon roars, and the room attempts to break around him from the force of his rioting anger and fear. Vader stands, and heads towards the lava flats. At least there he won’t damage the structural integrity of his children’s future living space.

-

Vader hadn’t even had to do anything for Crosshair to slip into the empty gap to his right, just behind his right arm, close enough to wrap his cape around if Vader had really wanted to. All Vader had to do was dismiss his men, and Crosshair had come to him.

Crosshair was wearing his old armor, and Vader felt a surge of joy at seeing the clone’s expression of individualism. Crosshair’s armor when he was with the Empire had been pure black. Faceless, personality-less, CT-9904’s. Not Crosshairs.

“They took Omega.” Crosshair says, voice distorted and muffled by his helmet.

Vader tilts his head at His Own, silently asking for clarification.

“They took my sister.” 

Ah. Vader clenches his fist. “Unacceptable. Would you like her back?”

Crosshair nods, and Vader swoops him up like he used to on Tantiss. Crosshair’s helmet clangs slightly against the clasp of Vader’s cape, and the rifle fits awkwardly, but they breath together for a moment. 

“Would you like her kidnapper’s head?” Vader asks eventually.

“I would like Tantiss’ coordinates.” Crosshair snarks back, before leaning up and pressing their helmets together in an awkward and uneven keldabe kiss. Vader wraps his presence around Crosshair’s shielded mind. Cross’ shields loosens slightly, a sign of trust, Vader knew. Oh, how he wished Padmé was here to give him permission. His two great loves were pulling his heart apart. Vader pulls back and head-butts Crosshair in a quick keldabe kiss.

Crosshair recoils slightly, and pulls off his helmet. “You are really bad at that.” He mutters, rubbing his eyes. “If I didn’t know better I’d have thought you were trying to attack me or something.”

Vader apologizes quietly, a brush of sorrow and remorse rushing through his presence and over the loosened parts of Crosshair shields.

“Apology accepted.”

The dragon purrs in Vader’s chest, and Vader nudges Crosshair away as Hunter makes his way towards their location. Crosshair rolls his eyes and goes up on his tiptoes to perform another keldabe kiss.

A memory slips past Crosshairs shields. Crosshair’s Natborn the girl-clone says. The dragon purrs in Vaders chest as Crosshair pulls away and makes his way through the shadows to his brother.

Crosshair’s Natborn. Vader pulls the small girls declaration close, Crosshair’s content at the title filling up the greedy hole in his heart that had been empty since Padmé had died. The dragon purrs in his chest, and the tiny part of him that was still Anakin Skywalker protests falling in love again. 

He ignores it.

His Own had asked for coordinates. Vader would get those for his love even if it killed him. Which considering he’d memorized them wasn’t that hard to do.

Chapter Text

Part 17:

Romance was interesting, but never something Luca had really ever experienced, in either of their lives. Luca found the push and the pull fascinating, the circles people danced around each other beautiful. The ability to say “I love you” from the bottom of your heart and hear it said back in a crescendo of truth.

Luca supposed the reason that romance had never fallen their way in their last lives was because of truth. Luke had never said “I love you” often too scared about whether he would hear the force resonate with falsehoods when it was said back. Lucia always worried that the other one was lying, and would abandon them at any second, and so never took the step to make it truth.

They had told each other once, that they were surprised that their souls worked so well together to form Luca. Luke had commented on the fact that they were so different it would seem that they wouldn’t get along, and Lucia had told him quite plainly that they were the same.

The had the same heart that ached when the galaxy hurt. They had the same anger, the same morals, and many of the same fears. They had each others memories and knew the other inside and out to the point that Luca could be Luca because Luca was them and they were each other.

It rattled them both though. Because their hopes had intertwined. Their dreams had intertwined. Their mistakes had intertwined. Their grief and their pain had intertwined.

There were some days where they mourned someone alive, half a galaxy away, because they knew that the person here was not the same one they had known.

Luca highly doubted they would ever meet Han in this new life. They mourn their brother-in-law and friend for a second time. And then they mourned Ben.

-

Hunter nearly cries when Shep manages to get a signal past the blockade. Typing in Phee’s comm-code with shaking fingers (area com, seven numbers) he takes a deep breath. The water that had caught in his lungs is gone now, but Wrecker is out for the count, Omega has been taken and Crosshair isn’t entirely here. Its like Crosshair’s mind is half gone, and Hunter is terrified its a side affect of the chip-or maybe its that conditioning Crosshair had mentioned earlier.

The holo cycles and rings. Hunter prays Phee picks up, the sounds of the com pressing on his ears. Enhanced senses were not always fun. The comm doesn’t go through.

Hunter swears and tries again. The comm rings and cycles. It doesn’t go through. Hunter can hear the TK-Troopers yelling outside, and he watches as Crosshair moves towards the door, loose and languid and much more relaxed then he should be on a battlefield.

“Open up!” The trooper calls from the other side of the door.

“You do realize you can’t order me around correct?” Crosshair drawls. There’s a scuffling from the other side of the door.

“CT-9904, this is Commander Scorch. Please open the door.”

“No.”

“Someone get Lord Vader.” Hunter can hear through the door. Vader? Hunter wonders, now very confused. Wasn’t that what Crosshair had said General Skywalker was called now? Why would he be here to collect Omega?

The realization hits him harder then he had hit the water twenty minutes ago. Vader-Skywalker-Whatever-He-Was-Called wasn’t here for Omega. He was here for Crosshair.

Hunter had been certain that his day couldn’t get any worse. Why did he always jinx himself. He takes one last look at the comm cycling on the table, and then rips himself away from it.

He was not losing his brother again.

Chapter Text

Part 18:

Sidious rubs his hands together in his office, a sinister smile on his face as he spins slightly in his throne-like chair. He had been livid when he found out that Vader’s clone had escaped from Tantiss, and he had nearly electrocuted Dr Hemlock, in his rage. However Vader had been just as surprised (and angry) as Sidous had been, so he would give his apprentice the benefit of the doubt. 

Besides, he wanted his apprentice to trust him with his clone. Or at least tolerate  Sidious’ control over the clone. If Sidious could control the clone (who unfortunately didn’t have a fully functioning chip, whether it had been removed or its control had degraded Sidious couldn’t tell) then he could control Vader.

It was a tried and true method of manipulation when it came to his apprentice. It had been how Sidious had gotten him to fall, after all.

Sidious couldn’t wait to get his hands on what-was-the-clone’s-number-ah-yes CT-9904. Oh yes, Sidious couldn’t wait to get his claws into CT-9904.

-

Maul scowls at the man in front of him. “What do you mean the Empire has taken interest in Our Deity?” 

The man looks like he’s had a religious epiphany. “The Empire wants to convert, I’m telling you! Our Deity will be so proud of me!”

“I will ask them of their opinion.” Maul grits his teeth, resisting killing the man. It would not do if he was incorrect and their Deity was, in-fact proud of the man.

-

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I was worried that was going to be your reaction.” Maul sighs, running his hand down the front of his face. “Would you like me to kill him?”

“No.” Maul startles as Luke and Lady Lucia respond in eerie union. There words combining into a singular voice. 

Luke sighs, and Lady Lucia mutters something under her breath.

“Luce is right. People don’t deserve to die for their mistakes.”

“Its not just his mistakes!” Maul protests

“People don’t deserve to be punished for their naivety either.” Lucia shoots back. “Banish ‘em. We’re not going to kill the guy.”

“You heard her.” Luke dismisses Maul with a wave of his skeleton hand. “Go banish the guy. He’s endangering our people.”

Maul bows his head, staring at the shifting colors of the mindscape for moment before rising from his knees. “As you wish, my Deity.”

Lucia stares after him as he leaves, and Luke looses it. “My Deity, my deity, oh bless this cult I’ve made for you!”

“He was talking to you too Luke!”

Laughter echos through their mindscape.

They still have no plan to take down Project Necromancy.

-

The man is devastated, and Maul watches as he sobs. “I just wanted to spread Our Deity’s light throughout the galaxy!”

Maul sighs. “Our Deity has declared that you are a danger to our people. They have decided to spare you from death, despite my disagreement. Be grateful you are allowed to live.”

The man sobs. “May I state my case to Our Deity?”

“They have made their decision.” Maul crosses his arms over his bare chest. “But you may try, I suppose.”

The man begins begging the air, and Maul can feel His Deity poking at him, curious to what was going on. Maul shoves his most recent memory at them, and His Deity sighs.

The air shimmers, and Maul gapes as His Deity appears, merged into who he was sure they would become. They stand, fabric dripping from their arms, and hair curling just over their eyes.

“What’s your name.” Maul’s Deity stares down at the man kneeling in front of them, see through and blue but somehow there.

Maul lets himself drown in their power, as he always does, as he had just hours ago. He’d had no idea that this was even possible.

“Leoro Vonthrath, my deity.”

“Leoro, do you know what the Empire has done to me?”

“My deity?”

“My family has been ripped to shreds, my father draped in chains, and my sister blocked from her powers.” The Deity stares at Vonthrath, and Maul basks in their disgust-yet-care-yet-uncertainty-yet-anger. “My mother locked in the realm of death, despite my protests.”

Maul can feel His Deity’s eyes harden, his bones vibrating with the power they exude.

“I don’t believe in killing people for their naivety, young man.” They lean down to stare Vonthrath in the eyes, towering over the now-heretic. “But you may not stay here.”

The Deity smiles, thin-lipped and nowhere near their eyes, and then spins on their heel. There’s a flash of blue behind them, and for a split second there is three sets of large wings growing out of their back.

Its gone the next second as Maul’s Deity shifts. “Get Leoro out of here. He is no longer welcome in our halls.”

Maul nods, drowning in awe and the force around him. The guards grab the heretic by the arms, and drag him out the door. “Of course, My Deity.” Maul manages to breath out, scolding himself for forgetting give them the respect they deserved. 

He had been unaware that his Deity was the Winged Goddess.

His Deity turns back to watch the guards walk back in. Their wings flicker behind them, suddenly featherless, looking much like Luke’s skeleton hand.

The entire hall kneels, hundreds of acolytes having witnessed the brilliance of their Deity just as Maul had many months ago.

-

Luca sighs, looking out at the crowd of people congregated in front of them. “We will most likely have to move…” They wave their hand at the ceiling. “This. The Empire will most likely attempt to close in.” 

They can see as Maul nods sagely behind them. “As you wish, my Deity.”

Luca sets their jaw, which still feels to old, having projected as if they were twenty-five. Just because they hadn’t asked to be worshiped didn’t mean they would let their people be hurt.

Chapter Text

Part 19: 

Crosshair pressed his elbow into Hunter’s side. The idiot was standing in front of him with his vibroblade drawn, as if it would keep even more troopers from getting inside. It didn’t, and the sea of white armor parted to show Crosshair’s Lord-General, tall and imposing, a single dot of black in a field of white.

“Don’t take another step.” Hunter growls, voice low in his throat. 

“Excuse me?” Vader tilts his head at Crosshair’s idiot brother.

“Don’t take another step. You touch my brother I’ll..” Hunter buffers. “I’ll rip out your throat!”

“I don’t think Wrecker would like that very much.” Crosshair mutters, and Hunter side-eyes him.

“I’m not talking about Wrecker.” 

Vader laughs, a buzzing sound Crosshair is intimately familiar with. The needles are soft today, though Crosshair had expected them to be sharper, more frantic. “I would never harm Crosshair. I would die before doing that.”

Crosshair smiles, ducking his head in a horrible attempt to hide it from Hunter, basking in the feeling of safe-warm-worried-happy-to-see-you-I-love-you-determination that the General gives off.

Hunter stares at the hulking armored figure in front of him, and then twists to stare at Crosshair. “Oh my stars, you’re in love with Rex’s general.” 

Crosshair whacks him, and Hunter laughs, suddenly breathless. 

Can-we-talk-without-the-troopers? Crosshair shoves at the needles. In a single wave of the General’s hand the sea of troopers are thrown into the wall.

Crosshair slips past Hunter to press into Vader’s side. I-think-I-love-you-too he pushes at the Sith, half teasing and yet completely serious. Vader sends a memory Crosshair’s way.

The memory is tranquil, and Crosshair recognizes it having taken place twenty minutes ago. Crosshair’s Natborn Omega says, voice resonating through him. Crosshair hadn’t realized that had slipped through his shields.

“I know.” Vader teases, sending a wave love with the two words. Crosshair reverberates with the possessiveness behind it, and sends his own back, attempting to wrap his general in the feeling much like Vader does to him. He doesn’t quite manage, but the needles tighten to the edge of oppressive, protective-content-I-will-kill-anyone-who-attempts-to-so-much-as-annoy-you dropping over Crosshair’s shields like a weighted blanket.

Crosshair reaches up to fist his hand in his Lord-General’s armor-weave tunic. His hand shakes, and he drops it back to his side, suddenly embarrassed. Vader wraps an arm around him, and pulls him closer to his side, until Crosshair’s forehead rests on the clasp to Vader’s cape.

Hunter stares.

“I cannot sense the nerve damage anymore. It’s as if your hand is brand new, why is it still shaking?”

Crosshair shrugs, tilting his head up to press a keldabe kiss to Vader’s helmet. “I have no idea.”

Chapter Text

Part 20:

“We’re getting worried about the girl’s safety. The Empire’s security has been tightened. I believe that the Emperor may have caught onto the fact that we faked the girl’s force-sensitivity test.”

Obi-Wan plays with Luca’s chubby little hands, humming in acknowledgment.

“That is.. worrying.”

Luca watches their sister’s papa, the holo slightly staticky. “I can shield.” 

Obi-Wan flinches at Luca’s voice, young and slightly slurred, but understandable. He had never heard them speak before. 

“I can shield.” Luca repeats. “There wouldn’t be any reso-reso..” Luca huffs. “Ringing.”

Obi-Wan laughs hysterically, burying his face into the soft hair on the top of Luca’s head. “To think that the first words you ever say are a full sentence.”

“Those were their first words?” Bail asks, astonished. 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Those were. And it’s true, Luca does instinctually shield their mind, and should I reinforce those it would be sufficient to stop the twins from resonating in the force, however that doesn’t entirely fix the problem you’re talking about.”

“It would be incredibly hard to explain if we just randomly handed Leia off to someone else. She’s not old enough to be sent off to boarding school or anything along the lines of that.” 

“Trade!” Luca cries, throwing their hands up and almost slapping Obi-Wan in the face. “N’Buir is always compl-compl- talking about how we don’t have trade partners.”

Obi-Wan stares at the child in his arms as they nod sagely.

  “Luca is correct.” Obi-Wan sighs. “We’ve been hiding out with an old friend of mine, he’s the governor of a small world called Melida/Daan. They ended a multiple century long war approximately twenty years ago and have barely managed to put together a government, much less an economy. Nield is in fact, often talking about the bills he’s attempting to pass, and how our arable land is being finicky. A trade agreement, or an alliance for that matter, could be a reasonable excuse to get Leia off of Alderaan. Especially if you’re bringing her with you on the trip.”

“What planet did you say it was again?”

“Melida/Daan, its in the Cavadine sector.”

“Wonderful. I’ll talk to this friend of yours in an official capacity soon, hopefully.” 

Obi-Wan smiles at Bail, and then down at Luca as the holo-call ends.

“Do you want to be the one to tell Nield the news?”

“Ye!”

-

Nield is ecstatic, both about Melida/Daan gaining a potential trade partner, and also because Luca was the one who told him, Obi-Wan grinning over their head as they stumble over the long words. 

“You’re talking! Oh my dear heart, you’re getting so big!” Nield pulls Luca out of Obi-Wan’s arms and spins them around. “Are you gonna be taking my job from me soon?”

“No!!” Luca complains. “I don’t want-job!” Nield grins at the mostly realized sentence, even with Luca half swallowing quite a few of their words. 

“Are you gonna be our Senator then?” Nield teases. “Or should I give that job to Obi-Wan?”

“Nield!”

“Right, sorry, Ben.” Nield rolls his eyes at Obi-Wan over Luca’s head. “So serious. This is cause for celebration Obi!”

Obi-Wan sighs, and leans his entire body weight onto Nield. Nield yelps as he stumbles, Luca now squished between their parents.

“No!!” Luca complains. “Go be cute elsewhere!”

Obi-Wan grins. “I can’t! Gravity is increasing on me!” Nield kicks him, and promptly has his legs kicked out from under him. The small family laughs as they end up on the floor in a pile.

“I’m exited to meet your sister.” Nield whispers into Luca’s ear. Obi-Wan whacks him, and Nield laughs, legs tangling with the Jedi-Master’s. Everything is good in the world, just for a moment.

“Governor!” Nield’s assistant calls. “You have a meeting to get to, get off the floor!”

Nield sighs, and Obi-Wan presses his nose into the crook of Nield’s neck. They untangle themselves and get back to work.

Chapter Text

Part 21:

Crosshair had probably ruined his chances at Hunter ever trusting him again. The troopers on the ground groaned as they came to, Crosshair still half tucked into Vader’s side, and Hunter staring at the two as if Cross had somehow grown a second head.

“I would like you to know, that I am not going to be the one to explain this to Rex.”

Crosshair laughs. “I have been interrogated about the General by his right hand enough, thanks.”

Vader tenses behind him. “You’ve found Rex?” The oh-my-stars-he’s-alive-what-about-Ahsoka hits Crosshair like a truck and then immediately cuts off, as though Vader is suddenly embarrassed to feel emotions.

Ahsoka’s-your-student’s-name-right? Crosshair pokes at the needles, which are soft yet sharp. The affirmative sent back is short, but Crosshair huffs a laugh.

“Yes…” Hunter says, word drawn out and vibroblade still held loosely in his hand. 

Vader nods. “I would like to talk to the Captain, yes.” 

-

Lucia drops her head into her hands with a groan, and Luke huffs a laugh. A silent “I told you so, Luce,” resonating through the mindscape.

Lucia mentally shoves him, which doesn’t do much because she herself is a figment of Luca’s conscious. Luke mutters something about being right under his breath. 

Maul ignores the two’s bickering, to busy basking in their warm joint force signature, with blues and greens and purples, petrichor, sun and the hum of wildlife. Birds are particularly prevalent, Maul notices, fitting for The Winged One.

Idly, Maul wonders where The Fanged One is.

“Like the Fanged God?” Lucia asks, aghast. Maul had been projecting apparently, or maybe you just had your shields lowered, his mind whispers back at him.

“Yes, my Deity, he is your brother is he not? Do you know where he is?”

Lucia looks flabbergasted, and Luke side-eyes her before answering him. “We don’t have a brother.”

“So the Fanged God does not exist?”

“I wa-what the fucking-no-that’s-the Daughter-Ahsoka!” 

“I know.” Luke says calmly.

“The Daughter is, was, the Winged Goddess though! And she’s dead, and she gave her powers to Ahsoka!”

“I thought the Daughter only gave Ahsoka her soul.”

“Well Ahsoka has Morai, so, yes-“

“If I may ask, what does Lady Tano have to do with this?”

“Everything!” The two explain in Union, voices melding together until they are inseparable. Lucia takes a deep breath before continuing, a slightly manic expression on her face.

“The Daughter, the Winged Goddess, is dead. She died saving Ahsoka Tano’s life, and as the Daughter was the physical representation of the light side of the force, that means that there’s not allowed to be a Daughter without a Son, and then the Son died, so he had to have picked another host-or whatever, which I swear was you-“

Lucia flails her hand in Mauls direction, who jolts slightly, the idea that he could ever be a force deity jarring.

“-but if we’re the Winged Goddess, then that means that Ahsoka isn’t anymore which means she’s dead, or maybe she was just a place holder until we were born which isn’t an idea I like either-“

“Calm down.”

“-And that means Leia’s the-“

“I said calm down, Luce.” Luke grabs Lucia by the shoulders, the fond nickname rolling off his tongue with a touch of annoyance.

“-The Fanged God.” Lucia finishes weakly. She takes a shaky breath, then another.  “Fuck, I hate anxiety attacks. Spirals. Ugh!” 

Luke wraps an arm around her as she drops her head into her hands again. “You see, this is the problem with cults.” 

“They cause existential crises?”

“I was going to say something about religious trauma, but that works too.”

Chapter Text

Part 22:

Crosshair wasn’t entirely sure how the kriff Vader had gotten the Batch up here without problems, honestly. Hunter was still staring as Vader paced around the ship, eyes wide with shock and caution. If Hunter had trusted him before, he definitely didn’t now. 

Luca has a sister. His Lord-General projects towards him. 

“What?” The word escapes his lips before he can think to shove it at the needles instead. Projecting is more work then it’s worth anyway, he reasons as Hunter looks at him like he’s crazy.

Luca has a sister. Vader repeats.

“Since when?” Crosshair feels like flailing about, but knows better then to panic in an obvious fashion when having a conversation using the force. Or sheer willpower, he guesses, because Crosshair is very much not force sensitive thank you very much.

“Always?” Vader shrugs. I found out last week.

“Last week?” Crosshair can basically feel his brothers picking up on his distress.

“Last week and always are not the same thing, Cross.” Hunter says cautiously, obviously unsure whether he should backing up or stepping between Cross and his Lord-General. 

“And you can only hear half of the conversation, Sergeant.” The Oper-CT-Crosshair shoots back, blinking the conditioning out from behind his eyes frantically. He couldn’t go blank right now, Luca-no, Luca’s sister needed him. 

Crosshair sends a silent question to his Lord-General.

Her name is Leia.

-

Luca doesn’t really like how Leia feels, her force signature too young, too wrong, too new. Leia Organa-Solo, the one that Luca was well aware she was subconsciously comparing a baby to, didn’t exist anymore. She was gone, and she hadn’t been reborn like Luca had, and if she randomly appeared in the middle of the plot-and didn’t have to go through puberty twice, force forbid-well, Luca would eat their lightsaber.

As it is, the baby sitting across from Luca is adorable, and Luca would have been willing to tolerate the child’s presence for that reason alone, even if she hadn’t been their sister.

Nield and Bail had retreated into Nield’s office for trade negotiations, and Leia and Luca had been left with Obi-Wan approximately twenty minutes ago. It was very obvious that Obi’Buir had not been prepared for taking care of a second child. 

-

“Leia’s a wriggly child, probably has been even before she’s been mobile.” Lucia mentally notes.

“Please don’t throw a tantrum, please don’t throw a tantrum, please don’t throw a tantrum.”

Lucia stares at him. “Isn’t it bad luck to cross the fingers on both hands?”

“I don’t kriffing remember!" Luke throws his hands in the air. "But she’s related to Ben!”

“Of course she is, she’s his mother!”

-

They don’t go to Tantiss. Crosshair isn’t quite sure where they are, actually. The ground is black rock, and the air is ash, and the rivers are made of lava.

“Welcome to Mustafar.” Crosshair’s Lord-General states, answering Crosshair’s unasked question. It’s obvious he doesn’t like the planet very much. Something dings on Crosshair’s Lord-General’s chest-pad-thing. It’s obviously a notification, because Vader releases a harsh buzz, a sigh, and then silently opens the doors of the fortress.

“Do you need to replace your oxygen canisters or something?” Crosshair asks quietly, hyper aware of his brothers watching warily behind them. Vader had only had to replace his oxygen once in Crosshairs presence, and it was a finicky process. 

“The Emperor has summoned me,” Vader sighs again, his modulator producing a buzz. “He… sent me after you.”

“Am I expected?” Crosshair sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before shoving his helmet on.

“Most likely.”  Vader motions towards the Batch, suddenly addressing a medical assistant who very obviously did not want to be here. “Take them to the East Wing.”

The woman nods, evidently not trusting her voice, and then-which much protest from Hunter-Vader and Crosshair are alone.  

Crosshairs not exactly sure that’s a good thing.

-

Crosshair follows Vader silently to the West Wing, and into the elaborate set up that the Emperor had installed for holocalls, which for some reason, took up an entire room. Vader hated the room with a burning passion, for the pain it caused his knees, for the Emperor and the gleam in his eyes, for the fact that it was actually horribly inefficient energy use wise and that he wasn’t allowed to fix it…

Vader hated the room with a burning passion, and having Crosshair in that room with him made the dragon seethe deep in his chest. Crosshair is blank, just like he was sometimes after they sent him through another round of conditioning, when Vader boots up the call.

The Emperor’s form appears, an apparition made of blue pixels, and Vader clenches his fists. 

“Ah. Your lover is back with us, wonderful. Hello, CT-9904.”

“It’s Crosshair.” Vader says before he can think twice about it. Crosshair’s blank signature blurs around the edges, awareness of himself sinking back in. It doesn’t last very long.

“If you insist.” Sidious’ words come with a sarcastic lilt, but he nods in Crosshairs direction amicably. Crosshair nods backs, a slight tilt of the head that bows his body in the Emperors direction, and Vader wants to scream until the blankness leaves His Own’s signature.

Unfortunately, Vader knows that his modulator wouldn’t allow it, even if his lungs could last without oxygen for that long. The Emperor ignores Crosshair for the rest of the holocall, and Vader sends his thanks to every deity, legend, and mystical force he can think of.

He prays it will last, he knows from experience that it will not. There were very few things that could keep his master away from pawns he decided were interesting.

Chapter Text

Part 23:

Vader does not manage to talk to Rex. Crosshair is transferred back to Tantiss the next day, and the Batch is sent off with coordinates to plan an assault. Hunter protests until he looses his voice, and even then he rasps his disapproval.

Vader mentally apologizes to Luca, projecting towards the ripped bond he knew led to them. If they hadn’t taken out Project Necromancy yet, they had to pick up the pace. (Even if he wasn’t sure how his infant child was dismantling Palatine’s plans.) 

-

“What do we actually know about Project Necromancy?” 

Lucia looks up from where she had flopped on the floor twenty minutes ago. “I thought we were taking a break from this stuff.”

“Just answer the kriffing question.”

“Uhm.. well, we now that it’s a cloning program specifically created to figure out how to make consistently force sensitive clones, specifically of Palpatine so that he can reach his dumb goal of immortality. We know that it got kicked of under Hemlock’s command by Nala Se, but she’s probably not going to be in charge forever considering that the Empire massacres the Kaminoan people in legends, and also most likely in canon. Project Necromancy is currently located on Tantiss and will eventually be located on Nevarro and.. whatever that Sith planet in Episode 9 is called.”

“Exagol?”

“Yeah, that one. We know that Omega is the key to bonding the midichlorians to their host properly-“

“I am like 75% sure that midichlorians are a hoax.”

“Were you even aware midichlorians existed before me?”

Luke says no with such dedication that Lucia blinks at him before muttering something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, besides midichlorians are your base potential, not your actual force ability. The force is a muscle, Luke, its something you have to flex. Stretch, exercise..”

“You’re running out of words aren’t you.” 

“Yes.” Lucia sits up, and stares into the distance. “What was I saying before….”

“Omega.” Luke picks at his scraggly beard. “Project Necromancy. Something about how she’s required to properly bond the midichlorians to the subject, which I swear is wrong. I swear that she was the key of not loosing a slew of midichlorians in the process of bonding them to the subject.”

Lucia fiddles with the end of her curly ponytail, and Luke is suddenly aware of how many of Lucia’s habits he’s adopted as his own, his hands freezing in his beard.

“Yeah well, you’re right.” Lucia admits. “But you can’t blame me for getting that wrong. It’s been a year since I watched that episode, and we didn’t even get to finish watching that season in the first place.” 

“So we need Omega?” 

Lucia aborts a nod, and shoots upright in her seat. “Omega.”

“What about her.”

“We could have totally sent Maul after her, easily make sure the Empire couldn’t find her!”

Luke shrugs. “I don’t know, she seemed pretty safe on that island.”

“Pabu, yes. But we can find that on a map, can’t we?”

“Who the kriff knows.”

-

Maul is probably stretching himself too thin. He has the Crimson Dawn, His Deity’s followers, His Deity’s plan to carry out, and his former master to avoid.

He will persevere. He must. He still isn’t sure if Vonranth’s case is singlular or not, and he will not test His Deity’s patience enough to try.

As it is, he stares at the map before delegating it to one of His Deity’s priests. Find Pabu, they had said. That was something he was sure even the incompetent idiots could handle. The competent ones would do fine, and then he would commend them to the Deity.

Yes, that made perfect sense.

Chapter Text

Part 24:

Luca stares at the ashes, instantly reminded of their school-their darling school, gone, gone, gone-

Their worshipers lay dead and burning on the ground, stone dust and ash in the air. The new hall was barren still, unlike the one they had transferred from when that heretic guy had alerted the empire to their location. Luca was grateful for that.

What had they done? What had they- this was their fault, again.

Their school, their people, their-gone,gone,gone.

A sob catches in their throat, the breakdown that they’d been holding back since Leia first showed up on Melida/Daan last week erupting from their being-finally.

What had they done? What had they done to deserve this? 

Why did you do this to me? They scream into the force. Haven’t I suffered enough? Haven’t I suffered- I just want to die, I just-

The force comforts them, but offers no reprieve. 

I was ready. I let go- Their island flashes before their eyes, it’s beautiful ocean view had been the last thing they’d seen before- (no that was Luke, that was Luke. Lucia had died with blood in her lungs. She’d been thrown as her back bumper crumpled and her ribs broke and her airbag hit her like a battering ram. It had not been peaceful. She had not let go. It had taken minutes that felt like hours, and then she’d been hit by a second car and the world had spun and she’d gone flying and there was glass everywhere- She was never getting in a speeder again. Luca had loved driving-flying-piloting, now they would never drive-fly-pilot again.)

Maul stands behind them, face twisted in a snarl. “Idiots.” 

They whip around to face him, a strangled, “What?” Escaping their lips. 

“Idiots, the lot of them!” Maul repeats, his snarl twisting deeper until it’s nearly carved into face, knife sharp and promising death. “Find Pabu and report back, I tell them, and what do they do? Get themselves killed!” 

Luca is nearly vibrating, a sob stuck in their throat. This is my fault. I did this. I did this.

“Disgrace to your name, I’m telling you! Good riddance. Might as well start over with a group that’s actually smart.”

Maul clearly believes the poison he’s spitting, and Luca can barely breath as he continues, chunks of their sanity crumbling as he continues, with his carved snarl and his bared teeth and the careless dismissals of life upon life upon life-

“It’s not their fault.” Luca breaths. Maul blinks at them slowly, like a predator who’s just noticed there’s more prey-easier to kill prey, vulnerable and defenseless. Luca can feel the quiet siren growing louder in their mind, the pressure of their anxiety, their fear, pressing into their temples and their jaw and their neck, pressing just behind their eyes-

Luca has never been afraid in Mauls presence before. They’ve never been afraid of Maul, though they should have, as they are. They repeat their breathed exclamation and Maul’s snarl is carved deeper into his face if that is at all possible, yellow-gold eyes burning into Luca’s lothern blue projection. Luca’s almost sure that the only reason that they haven’t burst into flames what that they’re already technically dead, their projections the same color as their eyes, and their eyes an ironic force-ghost blue.

Maul spits his poison their way, and Luca forcibly rips their projection from the hall hued of stone and filled with ash and dust and bodies. They scream when they wake up in their own crib, barely having the presence of mind to shield Leia before they babble and scream and cry themselves to sleep.

Their adults worry over them, but Luca pays them no mind. Their students, (padawans, a corner of their mind whispers) their worshipers, the deaths they have wrought, their mistakes, their fault, plaster themselves to the insides of their eyelids. Luca knows that when they sleep, the nightmares will come.

Chapter Text

Part 25:

Tantiss’ halls are death grey. Which is fitting, Crosshair thinks, staring at the walls as his hands refuse to stop shaking. He squeezes his eyes shut, blue-brown eyes flashing across his vision. The ghost of a blaster at his neck. Vader reaches out, leather hand brushing against Crosshair’s shoulder. The flinch is instinctive.

Vader recoils. 

Crosshair refuses to feel bad about it. Vader knows what he did.

-

One of the dead bodies that should be in the hold is missing. Rex bites his lip, resolutely ignoring the way the Bad Batch curls in the corner. Two were missing, only four curled up in the corner. How many times would that squad be torn apart from the inside out?

Rex stares at Howzer’s limp and bloating body, and decides that Tech’s headshot was completely justified.

- 

Howzer snarls, blaster held to Crosshair’s head.

-

Crosshair hisses something, and Howzer’s face goes through four different expressions before his blaster moves, quick as a whip.

-

Crosshair meets Omega’s eyes and his breath catches in his throat. Omega’s eyes, illuminated by the red lightsaber held to her throat appear blue for a split second. For a split second his sister looks like Luca.

-

Howzer’s shot fires straight at Vader, who blocks in one smooth motion, not even seeming to care that he swipes through Omega’s neck in the process. Tech, no longer restrained do to Wrecker’s shock, fires three quick rounds. One to each of Howzer’s wrists, one to Howzer’s head.

Crosshair, now released from Howzer’s grasp, falls to the floor and screams. The only thing Rex can do is have them all retreat. He knows one thing though. That thing is no longer his general, if he ever was in the first place.

Chapter Text

Part 26:

9 years later….. 10 AFE aka 9BBY.

-

Ten year old Luca Djinn stood tall, utilizing every inch of their height as the Imperial Governor stares down their N’Buir. They were short, unfortunately, and that wasn’t changing any time soon, but both of Luca’s components were 5’9, so they knew that they’d get there.

But even when short, Luca knew how to posture. Luke had been forced to learn it when was in his early twenties-mostly because otherwise Leia would bulldoze him in arguements-and Lucia had no problem using it when faced with facist assholes. It was one of the reasons why Nield and the Imperial Governor were having a staring contest, if Governor what-was-his-name-bitch-wait-no-it-was-Bach looked anywhere besides Nield’s face then he’d have to stare down Luca. 

And seeing as most imperials were power-hungry cowards, he really didn’t want to look at Luca. They’d been told they had a resting angry face before, being annoyed apparently made them look murderous to those who didn’t know them. Especially when they were tired. Which they nearly always were.

“I have told you many times, Governor.” Nield states, hands tightening on Luca’s shoulders. “You are the governor of the Cavadine Sector. I am the governor of Melida/Daan. There is a difference.”

“You-“ 

“My Buir has been the governor of Melida/Daan for the past… 31, going on 32 years, Governor Bach.” Luca states, doing some quick mental math. “He ended a several centuries long civil war and instituted lasting peace… What have you done except demand my buir gives up his title, governor?”

“The Empire-“

“I didn’t ask what the Empire has done. I know what the Empire has done, it’s brought peace and prosperity to previously warring worlds.” 

“The core worlds specifically.” Lucia mutters to her fellow component.

Luca gives the governor a tense smile. “I asked what you have done.”

Governor Bach blusters. “I am the Governor of the Cavadine System.”

“Congratulations. How did you get there? What have you done since being put in power? Don’t you have something better to be doing with your time? Do you give internships? How old do you have to be to join the Empire? Is the reason you’re pestering my buir that you’re homophobic?” 

Luca stops to take a breath and Governor Bach immediately starts denying the last question, ignoring all of the veiled insults in favor of reassuring Nield that he had nothing against his decisions, romantic or otherwise, and he was simply worried about whether or not people would get confused on who was who when they were in the same room nothing more.

Bach gives a tense and slightly terrified smile to Luca, and flees back to his ship. Lucia lets out a whoop, and Luke bursts into choked laughter, but Luca’s only movement is the growing genuineness of their smile. 

Nield however, bursts into laughter. “Oh my stars!” He grins at them, before mussing their hair. “That’s my little negotiator! Just like Obi..”

Luca whines, and reaches up to fix their hair. “Stop!!”

“And… you’ve inherited Obi’s love of his hair as well.”

“Kriff you.”

“Hey!!! Language!! Honestly where did you learn that?”

Luca gives Nield a wicked smile. “Tattooine.”

Nield stares at his child, speechless. “My dear, dear heart…. You’ve never been to Tattooine.”

“Yes I have!” Luca chirps. “We stopped there to refuel when I was six months old!”

Nield splutters. “What.”

-

Obi’buir is talking in hushed tones to Bail Organa when they get back home, and Nield makes concerned eye contact with him before ushering Luca to their room. Luca, suddenly panicked, doesn’t resist. 

-

Luca enters the living room, tense and ready to cry, half an hour later. Nield and Obi-Wan are huddled on the couch, shoulders pressed together, and their conversation abruptly stops when Luca walks in.

“Leia’s missing isn’t she. She’s been kidnapped.”

Obi-Wan slowly nods, unsure how his child knows. “Can you sense her?”

“I’ve been expecting this.” Luca chokes on their words. “I knew it was coming but I didn’t know when it would be here.”

Obi-Wan stands to wrap Luca in a hug as they sob. “Oh darling… why didn’t you tell me you were having visions?”

“The future is always changing, sometimes the events you are expecting never come to pass.” Luca says, choked with tears and half imitating the man holding them.

Obi-Wan laughs. “I know. I know.” His eyes however, are also filled with tears.

“I wanna come with.” Luca manages. “When you go save Leia. I wanna go with.” 

“Please” they project, their desperation-hope-love-fear-for-you-and-her-please-don’t-leave-me-I-love-you-I-need-I-need-I-need-to-do-this joining it. Obi-Wan’s signature wraps around their shields like a weighted blanket, and it feels like safety. Luca cries themself to sleep in their Buir’s arms.

Chapter Text

Part 27:

Leia Organa didn’t have a whole lot of friends. Most of her friends were droids, in fact. Lola; an astromech by the name of R2-D2; and her stylist droid TooVee; to name a few. Leia’s human friends were few and far between. Which was fine, she had Winter, and she had her parents, and she had Luca.

Leia Organa was tied to a chair, and Lola was broken on the floor. She did not have friends here. She was stuck. Leia prayed to Mother Alderaan that someone was coming to save her.

-

No matter how many times Luca and Obi-Wan took the ship out to some random planet to draw any possible trackers away from Melida-Daan, it was always jarring. Physically and otherwise.

Nield liked to joke that Luca had inherited their dislike of flying from Obi-Wan, alongside a plethora of other things.

The truth was that both Obi-Wan and Luca had traumatic experiences with flying and were both uncomfortable with the idea of being able to crash and die at a moments notice.

Nield holds out his hand in the Young salute, and Luca runs back down the ramp to cheekily give him a high five, trying to distract themselves from the fear that they can feel burrowed underneath their skin. It barely works, the pressure behind Luca’s eyes building both from tears and from anxiety as Luca finally boards the ship and settles in the cockpit. There were only two seats there, and Luca huddles in the back one, trying to ignore Obi-Wan flipping on the ignition sequence.

They were fine.

They were fine.

There was no blood in there lungs.

Their ribs weren’t broken.

They had triple run the ship diagnostic, nothing was going to go wrong.

Luca leans their force signature against Obi-Wan’s, desperate for comfort, and grasps at their ragged Lula, pulling her from their backpack. They’d been sleeping with it for years, since just after the… temple incident.

Luca’s eyes fill with tears as they breach the atmosphere, and they bury their face into the worn cloth of their blue and gold Tooka doll. Obi-Wan offers comfort wordlessly, and then jumps to hyperspace. 

Luca finally lets themselves sob.

Chapter Text

Part 28:

Daiyu was very bright, and very loud, and very crowded, and all Luca wanted to do was curl into their Buir’s side and hide. But Luca was too big now to be carried, and even when they’d been small enough being carried wasn’t ideal.

Their parents had spent about two years either following their toddling form or waiting for them to catch up, Luca stubbornly refusing help with transportation after they learned to walk.

So Luca walked, one arm wrapped around their Lula in a stranglehold, and the other one clutching at their Buir’s travel cloak like a lifeline. Daiyu was very bright, both to the eyes, and in the force. Luca forced themselves to keep their eyes open, denying themselves the ability walk blind through the market. Showing off their force sensitivity was never a good thing, and this place didn’t have the allies that existed on Melida-Daan. 

Luca squints as they reach out, their Buir asking about their sister softly to anyone they can stop. Leia is somewhere in the middle of the city, and Luca grabs their Buir by the hand and drags him towards where Luca knows Leia is. Obi-Wan yelps, and then rushes to catch up before Luca runs into someone, but they never do, ducking and weaving and maneuvering, making it so not even Obi-Wan is running into the crowd around them. Their eyes are closed the entire time, Obi-Wan notices.

Eh Tu Cha.

Obi-Wan barely notices he says it out loud until theres a pattering of laughter from Luca, and then in the next second they jerk to a stop. Luca pries their eyes open, wincing, and Obi-Wan can feel that they brush an apology against his paper like shields.

“Watch your language, Buir.” They tease.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Watch your own, Nield has in fact told me about your love of the Kresh-word.”

“You can say kriff you know. I don’t mind.” Luca swings their combined hands, and Obi-Wan laughs. 

“So?”

“So what?”

Obi-Wan gives his child a pointed look. “Did you find Leia?”

“Oh!” Luca lights up like a wet firework, exhausted, but still good. “Yeah, I lost the connection though, and she’s still halfway across this migraine of a city, so I’ll have to try agai-“

“General?”

Obi-Wan freezes, locking all his limbs as his muscles coil, ready to run. Luca spins in his grasp, giggling wildly. 

“That’s a clone!!” They bounce on the balls of their feet, hitting Obi-Wan with their Lula as they squeal. “Looklooklooklook!!!”

Luca’s excited giggles due nothing for Obi-Wan’s nerves. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person.”

Luca looks at him like he’s attempted to explain advanced hyperdrive maintenance to them, though knowing how good they were at mechanics they’d probably understand that. “But he’s from the 501st, Buir! You can tell from the blue!”

They spin excitedly to the clone behind them, and Obi-Wan clutches Luca’s hand tighter, ready to run, to sprint, to reach into his robes and pull out his lightsaber and kill-

“Are you from Torrent?” Their child asks between hiccups giggles. “What was your rank? What’s your name? Have you ever worked with the 212th? Or what about the 140th-that’s the Wolf Pack right, I didn’t get the number wrong? Did you have a favorite Jedi? I don’t, I just have a least favorite. Maybe he’s your least favorite too? Were you on Umbara? You might not have the same least favorite Jedi if you weren’t-“

Luca stops for breath, and Obi-Wan hears a familiar chuckle from behind him, just with more rasp.

“I am from Torrent, yeah, I was on Umbara-you talking about Krell? Yeah I hate him too. I’m Nax.” 

Obi-Wan mouths the clones name and racks his brain for whether or not he knows him. It sounds familiar.

“Nice to meet you Nax! I’m Luca Djinn.” Obi-Wan almost gives himself whiplash with how fast he turns around, pulling Luca close to him and fumbling inside the folds of his robes for the saber he knows is there.

“This,” Luca continues, unfazed, “Is my Buir, Ben te Sha’kajir.” 

Obi-Wan gives out a laugh and buries his face in Luca’s hair, certain now that their going to get shot and Leia would never be saved.

“Ah, of course. Makes since that you’re going by te Sha’kajir now.” 

Nax’s pronunciation of the mando’a translation of “The Negotiator” is said like an inside joke only he’s privy to, and Obi-Wan forces himself to reach out in the force, tapping against Luca’s beskar shields and shoving his exasperation at them.

Luca’s giggles are infectious. “We’re looking for my sister! Wanna help?”

Obi-Wan shoves harder at Luca’s shields.

Nax laughs and agrees. “Lead the way jett’ika.”

“I-“ Luca frowns. “I’d prefer Verd’ika if you wouldn’t mind.”

Obi-Wan groans into his infernal child’s hair. Why were they this difficult-oh right, they were a Skywalker. Go figure.

Chapter Text

Part 29:

Crosshair’s life had been absolute hell ever since that fateful day, and his only comfort was that Luca was alive and okay. The child had half-blocked off the bond, and only showed up sporadically. From what Crosshair had gathered, they felt guilty for causing Crosshair’s current situation. Crosshair didn’t understand how a one year old could be guilty of that-and it had caused many arguments. In the end though, Luca would clutch what they dubbed “The origanal Lula” (or Ori for short) close to their chest, lean into Crosshairs embrace, and wrap Crosshair in their force signature.

Their force signature was different now. It had developed over the years, and Lucas’ signature, dirt-and-orris-and-blue-and-the-faint-sounds-of-birds, has turned to petrichor-and-blue-green-purple-and-orris-and-sand-and-salt-and-baked-goods-and-metal-and-the-inside-of-starships.

They looked so much like Omega it hurt. Blonde hair and the exact same worry expression.

The scent of the Star Destroyer that Crosshair frequented was a reminder of his child every time he breathed in through his nose. It was one of the only thing keeping him sane. Well, that and the dissociation. Crosshair and CT-9904 and The Operative, they weren’t the same person.  Crosshair refused to be the same person as those two. He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand it if he was.

-

The only reason Crosshair tolerated Vader was because Luca had allegedly  asked Vader to assassinate the Emperor. Crosshair didn’t believe that Luca had actually asked for somebodies head at a year old, but he was willing to believe that Vader was doing the assassination so that Luca could grow up in a safer galaxy, so he tolerated Vader.

He also tolerated Vader because he didn’t want to be decommissioned, but that was a whole other thing. Vader-his husband of all things- was the only thing keeping him from being decommissioned. From being killed.

Crosshair had so many reasons to live for. He couldn’t die. Crosshair refused to die.

But that didn’t mean he had to like being married to his sister’s killer.

Chapter Text

Part 30:

Leia was prepared for the door to open. To kick her captor where-the-sun-don’t-shine and run. So that’s what she did. Uncle Ben yelps, and Leia almost cries in relief, abandoning her earlier plan in an instant. 

“Sorry!” She cries. “I thought you were a pirate.”

“I’m not sure if even Hondo deserves a kick that hard.” Luca mutters, and Leia’s gaze snaps to her best friend.

“What are you doing here?” 

Luca shrugs. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to make yourself quasi-invisible with the force. No one even pays you any mind.”

Obi-Wan gapes at them.

“Even your parents don’t know you’re there.” Luca adds awkwardly. 

Obi-Wan groans, and grabs both the children by the wrists, hurrying them outside. “Little gods, why do I deal with Skywalkers.”

“Cause you love us.” Luca shoots back.

Leia stares at the two. “What’s a Skywalker?”

“That’s not important right now.” Rings out at the same time as-

“It’s our biological father’s last name.”

Obi-Wan turns to glare at his child as the step out into Daiyu proper. Nax makes his way over from across the street. Leia splutters.

“So this is the vod’ika.” Nax smiles at Leia, bracing himself for squealing, Luca already beginning to giggle manically again. Obi-Wan’s not sure if it’s due to the fact that there’s a clone, on whether or not it was because they’d just told Leia that the two were biologically related. He didn’t want to know.

“I don’t know what that means.” Leia states flatly, staring at the clone. Luca makes a show of exaggeratedly counting down. “Are you a clone?”

The girl was blunt, and Nax laughs. “Yes I am. Ready to get out of here Little General?”

“Wha-Why is she Alor’ika, and I’m Jett’ika?”

“You’re Verd’ika.”

“Cause I requested that!”

Obi-Wan sighs. “And just where are we going?”

Nax grins, “Well, Sha’kajir, we clones have created a bit of a… freedom trail… over the years.”

“Are you taking us to Rex?”

The small group stares at Luca. 

“What? Last I check he was in charge of one of those operations!” Luca’s face twists into a scowl. “I’m not an idiot, if that operations still running, he’s most likely in charge, though we might not meet him cause we’re only going to be meeting one cell. Honestly I’d be more surprised if you were taking us to Cody. I’m pretty sure he just disappeared ‘bout a year after the war. Must have been the guilt.”

Nax nods dumbly. “Yeah, I was gonna take you to contact Rex.”

“Can we do it on our ship? I think the spaceports gonna be shut down soon.”

It must have been a sight, Luca thought. A ten year old child, clutching a tooka doll like their life depended on it, squinting against the light, straight-backed like a soldier, the glint of knowledge in their eyes.

“We might as well have a necklace of tongues around our neck.”

“Wha-why are you making a reference to ‘The Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong’.” 

Lucia shrugged. “It’s a good story, besides- it’s fitting.”

“If you attempt to get a necklace of tongues I’m divorcing you.”

“We aren’t married!”

-

Theinquisitors find them before they get back to the ship, and as they duck into an alleyway, Luca throws their force signature, much like how one would throw their voice. They twist it as they go, and an approximation of the angry needles of Vader appear, deadly and lying in wait like a viper, a dragon roaring in his chest.

Obi-Wan flinches, and Leia trips over her own feet.

“What is that?” Leia whispers, terrified.

“A distraction.” Luca responds, calm and collected, Lucia screaming into the force to fuel their projection.

Obi-Wan stares at his child with wild eyes, and wonders when she had ever met anything that dark. That powerful.

Their imitation of their Father isn’t perfect. There’s holes in the sandstorm that makes up the illusion, but Luca fills the holes with memories of Maul, of Sidious, of Darth Vader as their Buir remembers him, screaming in lava, hate rolling off him in waves.

The illusion is terrifying, Luca can tell, because Leia has started to cry, and even Nax, a force null, looks on edge. The inquisitors scatter, and Luca tones down their imitation. More Anakin Skywalker then Vader, dragon still roaring inside it. They wrap it around their group, letting a hint of their petrichor free.

Obi-Wan’s knees buckle, and he grasps onto that hint of petrichor like his life depends on it. Leia stares at Luca, like she’d just produced a godly miracle, terrified yet awed at the same time.

“Sorry about that.” Luca sighs. “It seemed easier to just scare them then to fight them.”

Nax nods, still slightly unsettled, but used to it. He’d worked with Luca’s father after all. Skywalkers were followed by chaos like a sheep followed it’s shepard, after all. 

“Let’s go.” The clone mutters, helping the Alor’ika off the ground.

They ran into Haja on the way out, and Nax grabbed the fake Jedi in an affectionate headlock. “Took you long enough.”

“Hello Scammer!” Luca chirped, eye’s half closed. Anakin Skywalker’s fake signature stretched to wrap around Haja like a blanket. “Welcome to hell. Its name is Daiyu.” They say the last part in such a deadpan that Haja snorts with laughter.

The illusion slips as Luca sways, exhausted and overwhelmed and on the verge of a breakdown. Luca can feel the inquisitors zero in on their group and swears under their breath.

“Language.” Obi’Buir mutters.

Luca swears louder, reaches for strength in the force and then promptly blacks out.

-

Luca has no clue what is going on when they wake up, exhausted to the point that not even Luke and Lucia have any clue, groggy from the inside out with limbs of mush. Leia is clutching them tight to her chest, and breathing as if she’s scared someone will find them.

There’s taunting, distant in Luca’s ears, yet clear. Something about Skywalker still being alive. 

“Of course Skywalker’s alive. We’re Skywalker.” Luke mumbles, out of it. Lucia is too tired to do anything but agree, so the words slip out of Luca’s mouth as well.

Leia slaps a hand over their mouth, and Luca succumbs to exhaustion once more.

Chapter Text

Part 31:

Uncle Ben lays Luca in the middle of the cargo bay, and Leia squirms as the-clone-she-hadn’t-learned-the-name-of attempted to comfort her. Leia wasn’t scared of flying. That was Luca, who was unconscious. 

Leia didn’t need to be comforted. It’s not like she’d gotten kidnapped by pirates and then locked in a room and had her droid broken and been rescued by her best friend who was apparently was her biological sibling and that Uncle Ben might be her what-did-Luca-call-him-Buir, and then her sibling passed out and someone tried to kill them.

Okay maybe she did need to be comforted. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone here to be the one comforting her. Well, maybe Luca-but Leia wanted her parents, the Organas. Leia wanted Lola. Leia wanted to go home. Leia can feel the tears build.

Uncle Ben glances up at Leia, noticing the silvery sheen over her eyes and the way she hunched her shoulders. He reaches for Luca’s pack, and unzips it. Leia half expects him to hand her Lula, having seen him shove the doll in there earlier.

Instead he pulls out a mass of green and periwinkle fabric. As he untangles them, Leia recognizes the periwinkle as Luca’s coat, well loved and slightly too big for the child. The forest green is a coat of a similar style, and Uncle Ben offers it to Leia with a small smile. 

“Luca insisted we stop and get it for you, so the two of you could match.”

Leia’s hands fist into the smooth fabric of the coat, and she brings it her her nose, as if she can somehow inhale Luca’s thoughtfulness. She can’t. But the coat smells like smoked meat and correllian lavender.

Leia puts it on silently. This was comforting enough.

-

Luca wakes up holding Lula and having been covered in her coat like it was a blanket. Leia is curled up next to her, wearing the iconic green coat from the Kenobi show.

Their Buir is huddled around an active holoprojector with Nax, and Luca can see Rex on the other side of the call. They untangle themselves and stumble towards the holoprojecter, all eyes turning to them as they step into range.

Rex looks like he’s going to cry, and the name he whispers like a prayer stops Luca in their tracks.

“Omega..”

The best way to describe what happened was that Luca blue screened…. And then started leaning into the creole in their accent.

“Hi!” Luca says, panicked but sabbac-faced. They’re distinctly aware that their imitating Omega’s voice. And in the split second between that thought and the next, Rex starts to cry.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!” Luca reverts back to their regular accent. “I’m Luca? Luca Skywalker. It’s nice to meet you, Ba’vodu Rex. Alor, sir.”

Rex starts to cry harder, laughter interspersing with his sobs. “You don’t have to call me sir, kid.”

Luca stutters. “Experience outranks everything though?”

-

“Don’t we technically have more experience then him?” Luke wonders aloud.

“No? He technically has more…”

“I’m 53, you’re 17, Luca’s 10, add that together you get 70, Luce. He’s like what, 13?”

“He’s 23 at the moment actually, though he looks 46.”

“I still say we have more experience then him.”

“He’s been doing this for 13 years. We were only in the Rebellion for 6. He has more experience.”

“Fine.”

-

Rex stares at the child currently being displayed on the holo. Skywalker’s child, who was calling him Alor, and was currently being raised by General Kenobi. Luca they had said. I’m Luca. They’d said it in the same tone Ahsoka used whenever she told the story of how she’d met General Skywalker on Christophsis. 

Rex swipes at his eyes.

“Yeah.” He manages. “Experience does outrank everything.”

Chapter Text

Part 32: 

Nield stares at the impound officer in front of him, and mentally curses his husband. “It was stolen, Officer. Thank you for returning it.”

“Why didn’t you file it stolen?” The Officer accuses, voice like hooks, and grating on Nield’s nerves.

“Because I didn’t know the ship had been stolen until you brought it back.” Nield rubs at the bridge of his nose. “My husband went out on his annual trip to some festival that his home world throws. I thought it was in the Arkanis sector. I have no clue who stole it, or how it ended up on Daiyu. Thank you for bringing it back.”

The Officer sighs. “Be more careful next time, the Arkanis sector is, despite our efforts, rife with thieves.”

“I will aspire to do so.”

“Wonderful.”

-

Luca would have been terrified had the ship they were on not droid controlled. Droids, Luca had figured out over the years, as long as they weren’t in firefights, piloted ships in a much safer way then any biped did. As it was they were only fidgety and anxious, which was better, they supposed, but still not fun.

“When are we going to land?” Lucia mutters, pacing as if her life depends on it.

“I don’t know~” Luke sing-songs back. He’s spread himself out across their mindscape. Screwdrivers and wires and bolts scattered around him as he tries to figure out how to make a speeder from scratch. It wasn’t working very well. Lucia wasn’t sure if it was because Luke had no idea how to build a speeder or if his materials were acting weird.

She would bet it was the latter. Stuff they made out of mental energy was always just slightly wrong.

Luca jolts as their tapped on the shoulder, abandoning the speeder they’re mentally putting together. Leia smiles sheepishly down at her sibling.

“Room for one more?”

Luca nods, and brings their jittery limbs up to their chest. Balls were safer shapes, right? “Take a seat.”

Leia does, and the quiet comes back again, before it’s broken. “So we’re siblings.”

Luca lets out a huffed laugh. “Yep! We just got adopted in different directions. You got adopted by Mother’s best friend, I got adopted by Father’s best friend… Mostly because they were pretty sure that if we were raised together we would end up being captured by the Empire and killed…”

“What? Why?”

Luca grins, “Father was a Jedi. We inherited his mystic voodoo~”

“Stop calling it Mystic Voodoo!” Obi-Wan calls from across the room, “We’ve talked about this, Luca-“

“The force is an energy field that contains all living beings, it surrounds us, and penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together.” Luca interrupts, doing an over the top imitation of their Buir’s accent. “We know.”

Nax snorts, and Obi-Wan glares at him for a second before turning back to Luca. “Then stop calling it mystic voodoo.”

“Force osik.”

“No!”

Chapter Text

Part 33:

Luca’s hands are full of their sister’s droid when they make their way out onto the landing platform, periwinkle coat tucked into their bag so that they don’t get grease stains on it.

Obi-Wan sneaks past the workers silently, urging Leia alongside him. Luca follows, and Nax brings up the rear, having fashioned a bag from a tarp and stripped down to his blacks.

“Alright.” Obi-Wan states, rubbing at the fuzz on his face. He hadn’t shaved in a few weeks, he needed to do that, his beard was growing back. “So- what are we doing here and what’s our story.”

“We’re here to meet Tala.” Luca states distractedly at the same time as Nax’s:

“We have an operative here.”

Luca nods, fiddling with Lola’s wires. “Yeah, that.”

“Well.” Obi-Wan sighs. “I say we’re farmers from Tahl, and you two-“ He bops Luca and Leia on the heads. “-are my children.”

“And Ba’vodu Nax is our uncle and we’re visiting our Mother’s grave.” Luca states, as if its obvious. They pause in their tracks. “We should visit Mother’s grave.”

“We can’t go to Naboo right now.” Obi-Wan sighs, tugging Luca along. “We have to get to Alderaan.”

“Is Nax gonna be on Mom’s side or…” Leia asks, scuffing her feet.

“Father’s.” Luca states incredulously. “We have no Uncles on our Mother’s side.”

“Really?” Leia wonders aloud. Luca hums an affirmative.

“Yeah, we have a shit ton of Aunts on her side though.” Luca grins at Leia. “Of course Aunt Sola’s the only one we’re biologically related to, but that doesn’t exactly matter, now does it.”

“Aunt Sola?”

“Aunt Sola; Aunt Sabé; Aunt Rabé; Aunt Saché; Aunt Yané; Aunt Cordé-though she’s dead-Aunt Beru, who’s on Father’s side of the family; Auntie ‘Soka, who’s also on Father’s side; Aunt…. There’s more, Mother had like, 14 different handmaidens, I just can’t-Eirtaé!! Aunt Eirtaé… and I can’t think of anyone else.”

“You forgot Dormé, Versé, Teckla, Duja, Karté, Moteé, Fé and Ellé.” Obi-Wan sighs.

“Yeah.” Luca sighs. “We’ve got a lot of Aunts.”

“Little Gods.” Leia mutters under her breath. “How do you keep track.”

“You don’t.” The Djinn’s state in union.

“That was kinda the entire point.” Luca sticks a wire in its spot a little more forcefully then nessacary. “They were her decoys and bodyguards, they were designed to fade into the background so that they could pretend to be her and she could pretend to be one of them in times of crisis.”

“It was considered incredibly impressive to know the names of more then two of them at a time.” Obi-Wan runs a hand down his face tiredly. “I’m surprised Luca knows any of their names in the first place.”

Luca grins and waves their hands in the air. “Mystical Voodoo~”

“No!”

-

Luca doesn’t like the idea of being in the transport. There’s no seatbelts, they’re being driven by a biped. No one will report to their death to the correct authorities when they die. They’ll be buried in the middle of nowhere, on Mupazo, a ruined world that no one cared about, and then Luca will have to start taking down Palpatine all over again. From scratch.

Luca mentally screams, not wanting to cause a scene. Leia wraps her fingers around Luca’s clenched fist, and Luca forces herself to relax so not to break Lola again. Luca set the final pieces in place with shaking hands and stuck Lola in Leia’s lap. 

Luca’s finger’s twitch, and they debate whether it’s worth it to cause the transport to break down. Nax pulls them into his lap, and Luca forces their eyes to look up at him. They study the side of Nax’s head, searching for the scar that came from the chip coming out. His hair is in the way, and Luca frantically searches for something else to ground them, trying not to cry.

They’re going to die on a nowhere planet, and be buried in a grave with no name, and Vader would tear the galaxy apart for no reason because neither Luca or Leia would be able to be put on the throne.

“-love the Empire.” Leia says, tiny smirk on her face. Luca grasps onto their sister’s force signature, with its jasmine-tea-mountains-with-rock-dust-and-snow-tulips-thunder-and-petrichor-the-sharp-scent-of-lightning. It’s missing the pain-spice-determination-love-love-love that Leia had before, when Luca was just Luke with no Lucia.

Luke used to be weary of reaching out towards Leia, back then, traumatized by the Emperor as he was. But Leia’s lightning wasn’t malicious and blue, exploding out of her fingertips like it was a set of puppet strings and they were the puppet. 

Luca runs their fingers along where the litchenberg figures used to run down their torso, and wraps their force signature fully around Leia’s. Leia’s force signature was made up of thunderstorms and Alderaan, and it was not anything like the false-grandfather-depur-pain-suffering-hate-amusement-burning-burning-electricity-expensive-dry-cleaning-satifaction-annoyance that made up Palpatines.

Luca doesn’t even realize that the transport has stopped until their family is shifting so they can get off, but they somehow manage to get out of the car without their panic returning. 

Luca can feel themselves try not to cry, and hugs their backpack to their chest as they step to the side, prone droid approaching like a mocking shadow. Obi-Wan hadn’t shaved recently, he’d be recognized and then Luca’s father would be called, and he would kill the entire town in order to find them.

The probe droid whirs and beeps frantically, and Luca can see the second that Obi-Wan realizes he’s been recognized, and that he should have shaved before he left. The scruff on their Buir’s face is not the beautiful beard that he’d had during the clone wars, but it was enough to cause recognition. Luca’s Buir lunges for the stormtroopers, and Luca swings their bag onto their back, reaching out with the force and crushing the probe with a slow blink.

Luca watches as the probe falls, and then turns to stare at where Nax and Obi-wan are grappling with the troopers. Out of the corner of their eye, they see the two troopers who came in with Tala get shot down in a smooth motion, and Luca mentally yanks their family away from their opponents. Tala shoots them smoothly, not reacting to the fully grown men who just got yanked through the air.

“Come on.” She sighs, giving Nax an exasperated smile. “They’ll have sent a transmission. We have to hurry.”

Luca grabs Leia’s hand, and grins at Tala. “Let’s go!”

Chapter Text

Part 34:

The tiny faux wood room, with its carvings on the walls, has thousands upon thousands of layers of relief soaked into the floor. Luca sucks up the feeling, and nearly collapses in the corner, their stress leaking out of their body in an instant. This place might be fallible, but it is safe. Luca watches their Buir run his fingers along the wall with hooded eyes. He stops short, and Nax glances worriedly at him from where he’s quietly whispering with Tala.

“Quinlan Vos.” They mutter as Obi-Wan caresses the carving. 

Obi-Wan hums his agreement, obviously trying not to cry. His emotions seep out of his shields a cacophony of relief-happiness-of-course-he’s-alive-thank-the-stars-Quin-Quin-Quin-Quin. 

Leia asks a question that Luca doesn’t hear, the thunderous dragon of Vader roaring in their ears. Luca groans, and presses their hands into their eyes, batting at Vader in the force. The dragon that is Vader freezes, their thunderous anger dripping into possessiveness. 

“Where are you.” Vader’s voice is low and dangerous. “Who is keeping you from me.”

“I’ve been half in a panic attack for the past three days. I do not have the mental energy to deal with you.” Luca spits, slapping at the tendrils Vader attempts to wrap around them.

-

“Does anyone?” Lucia mutters, rubbing her forehead. 

“No.” Luke throws his arm over his eyes, exhaustion weighing down his limbs. “‘Xcept maybe Obi-Wan.”

“I don’t think he had the energy either.” Lucia sighs.

-

Vader doesn’t like their attitude very much apparently, because he stretches his force signature, trying to sense the people around his child-searching for an imaginary kidnapper apparently.

Luca hauls themselves up and stalks out into the road, ignoring the worried hissing of their Buir, and the confused exclamations of the rest of their little group. They turn towards the entrance of the town, where Vader is standing, wound up like a spring.

“Stop kriffing hammering on my shields, Dad!” Luca yells, throat dry. “You don’t need to be so damn clingy!”

“Are you okay.” 

“I’m fucking fine! I’m the kriffing rescue mission, not the kriffing damsel!” On that note, Luca turns and storms back into the safe house. The sound of a lightsaber igniting, and the overwhelming feel of death follows in their footsteps. Cause of course Vader’s version of information control is massacres.

Leia stares at Luca in horror, her voice strangled. “That’s our Father?”

“Yes, Leia, keep up!”

Chapter Text

Part 35:

Leia. That’s what was going on. His daughter had been kidnapped and his oldest had run to save her. Vader pauses in his massacre to reach out to feel his children’s signatures. They both had petrichor-and-sand-and-flowers a perfect mix of Crosshair’s rainstorms, his sandstorms, and Padme’s floral perfumes. Luca bats at him, and he focuses back on the hum of his lightsaber, and the signatures of troopers he and his husband have yet to kill.  

-

Reva stares at the way Vader was taking out their troops, relentless and deadly, his husband laughing uproariously as he joins in; and she suddenly half-regrets her plan to kill him. Because Obi-Wan Kenobi was not the person Vader was chasing after. He was chasing after his child. Reva will use them as bait and kill their father for what he did to her, and then maybe she’ll kill them too. 

But first she has to make sure she doesn’t die.

-

Obi-Wan face palms, and resists the urge to scream. The feel of death becomes layered like fog over the town, and he can see Leia stumble, unused to the feeling. Luca doesn’t so much as flinch, yawning as if bored instead. Nax stares out the opening towards Vader, flinching every time the sith’s saber came down.

“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan manages. “I.. should have told you, Nax.” Tala whips around and gapes at him, fear-filled eyes locking on to him like he’s a scourge on the world and she was a scrub-brush.

“You knew?” She spits. The terror in her eyes makes her look rabid, and for a split second Obi-Wan is reminded of Maul. Luca glances at Tala, and then flinches violently. Vader’s anger fills the space, and Obi-Wan can feel Luca slap at the anger in a wordless scolding.  

“I did too.” Nax say quietly. “Rex found out about a year after the Empire rose. But Vader… Vader isn’t Skywalker anymore. He isn’t worth the 501st’ loyalty.”

Tala twirls to stare at Nax. “What.”

Nax turns to her with sad eyes. “He killed our little sister.”

“Omega.” Luca states, brows furrowing. “She’s dead?” Nax nods sadly, and Luca dissolves into a flurry of confused muttering. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand what’s going on. He’s not sure if he ever did.

Leia attempts to sneak between the adults to stare at Vader, and Obi-Wan guides her back to the hidden room. Death is still thick in the air, and Leia doesn’t deserve to be traumatized.

Chapter Text

Part 36: 

“Okay,” Lucia says, pacing around their mindscape. “So Omega’s dead.”

“Yay? Now Project Necromancer’s crippled.” Luke makes a sarcastic pair of jazz hands. Lucia glares at him. “Don’t look at me like that. She was a necessary component in the linking of midichlorians to subjects. It’s crippled.”

“We don’t know that much about Project Necromancy to begin with.” Lucia sighs, rubbing at the ache behind her eyes. “We’re gonna fucking lose.”

“Stop being a pessimist.” 

“I will be a pessimist all I want!” 

“Oh, go eat a snickers.”

“Snickers don’t exist in this galaxy!!”

-

Luca angrily stomps outside, ignoring the dead bodies and the hissing of their Obi’Buir behind them. Crosshair hasn’t even attempted to get the blood off his armor, but Luca doesn’t care as they crash into him, mumbles that they’re not sure are loud enough to heard being spoken into his chassis. He laughs. 

“I have no idea what you just said, ad’ika.”

“Do you have food.” They repeat, tilting their head up to stare Crosshair in the eyes.

“I do.” Cross nods. “Would you like some?” Luca makes grabby hands at him, causing him to laugh. He slips a ration bar into their hands, and they make a face before biting into it. It tastes like dust and protein powder. Luca chews anyway.

“Those things are dry as hell.” They mutter under their breath once their done. Crosshair agrees wordlessly. “I like the yellow ones better then the green.” 

“Really?” Crosshair drawls, laughter on the edge of his voice. “I like the blue ones best. We don’t get given those when we’re not in a largely aquatic sector though.”

“This isn’t exactly a prairie.” Luca grumbles, waving a hand at the dusty corpse ridden ground around them. “It’s more of a graveyard.”

“Black striped rations rarely get handed out.” Vader cuts in. “Besides, it’s not like they knew it would become a mass grave.”

“You. Are. On. The. Mission.” Luca stresses, clapping between every word. “When does it not become a mass grave, Father?”

Vader preens, just a bit, and Luca rolls their eyes.

“That wasn’t a compliment, husband.” Crosshair drawls at him. Luca gapes at him, and then bursts into giggles.

“You two are married? Oh my stars.” A grin splits their face. “That’s horrible!” Vader reels back, as if he was slapped, and Crosshair bursts into raw, uproarious laughter. 

“Isn’t it?” Cross drawls. “I’m your stepparent now.”

Luca frowns. “Now? You already were.” Crosshair stares at them and they screw up their face, putting on the funniest voice they can think of. “YoU’rE tHe PaReNt WhO sTePpEd Up!!” 

They end up sounding like the guy in the mole costume in the Goofy Movie; half animatronic, half happy dork, and Crosshair’s laugh is ripped from his lungs before he even realizes it’s there, hanging in the air between him and Luca.

“What about me?” Vader complains. Luca twists to stare at him. 

“I am biologically related to you. You were declared my father the second I was born. Why do you need reassurance about this.”

“He needs reassurance about everything!” Obi-Wan calls out from the door to the safe house. “And so do you!”

Luca nods sympathetically. “The Skywalker genes. Unfortunately.”

Vader turns to stare at Obi-Wan, and Luca swears. 

“O’Buir!” They yell. “We need to go!”

Vader stares at Luca, betrayal painting the air. Fuck, Luca thinks. We really need to get out of here.

Chapter Text

Part 37:

Luca didn’t exactly escape, though they were sure the others did. Crosshair had  pressed them into his side the second Vader turned on Obi-Wan, and had guided them back to the transport Cross and his sith-spawn of a husband had come in on. 

Luca nuzzles their nose into the crook of Crosshairs neck, their cheek pressing uncomfortably into the crease of Crosshair’s armor plating. They didn’t exactly want to be the Empires captive, but they didn’t mind hanging out with their Buir. 

Vader storms onto the ship, and the needles of anger that pierce the air are immediently pulled behind shields of beskar the second the cyborg notices them.

“Luca.” His pressure suit hisses as he breaths out. He steps forward and wraps Crosshair and them in a loose hug, careful of the sharp edges of his helmet. Crosshair adjusts, shifting to avoid sticking the bolts on the front of Vader’s helmet in his eye. 

-

“How many times do you think they’ve head butted each other.” Luke whispered from inside their shields. Lucia snorts.

“Head butting is kissing in Mandolorian culture, Luke.”

“So a lot.”

-

Luca admittedly didn’t think that they’d actually been giving each of other keldabe kisses any time recently. By the way Crosshair seemed to blur slightly at the edges and shrink into himself, and the way Vader’s hurt and muffled anger at Cross’ reaction was resigned, as if he was used to it.

But as Vader basked in Luca and Crosshairs signatures, his child knew that he wasn’t going to hurt them. The terror at the possibility was there, had always been there in the back of their mind. Luca had always been wary of him, ever since Bespin. It didn’t mean that they loved their father any less, he was their father, they refused not to love him. But the caution had never left. And it was because of this caution that Luca noticed the fear that had sunk into Vader’s bones.

Luca had only felt it once before, on Endor. It was the same dread that had made up their father’s entire being as they surrendered, as they gave themself up to the emperor. Luca suddenly regrets getting on the ship. Terror runs through their veins like electricity, and it might as well have been. The emperor took far to much pleasure in the act for terror not to be the first thought at the sight of lightning, no matter how hard Luca attempted to associate it with Leia instead of that monster.

Vader pulls away, and Luca clings to him, not letting him step back to land the ship, to call his master. It takes a second to remember they haven’t even taken off yet.

“What’s wrong?” 

Luca’s throat is dry, and they croak as they attempt to respond. “I don’t like flying.” They eventually say. It’s one of the many half truths that Luca has said over the years. No, Luca didn’t like flying anymore. But that was not why they were afraid.

-

To say they didn’t like flying was a vast understatement, Vader figured out. They were terrified of it. Crosshair had wrestled the controls out of Vader’s hand within three seconds of non-atmospheric flight, worried that what was Vader’s flying specifically, but it turned out to just be, you know flying.

Luca; having lost their bag, and their Lula; is a riot of panicked energy and tears. It gets to the point where half of the hold is floating in the air before Vader unclips his cape and wraps them in it like a burrito. It doesn’t quite help the way he thinks it will.

Instead of his child slowly relaxing and calming down, facing their fear and becoming all the better for it, Vader is focused on by what feels like a million eyes. Luca’s force signature is a mess of sand and the sea, whipping the force around Vader in what he can’t tell is a sandstorm or a hurricane. Lightning crashes in Luca’s mind, and their fear skyrockets.

Vader finally connects the dots.

Palpatine. Luca was scared of Palpatine. That was why they were shaking to the point where their very existence was coming down around them. They didn’t like flying, yes, they hadn’t been lying about that, but that wasn’t what they were afraid of. They were afraid of his master. That was why they had asked him to kill him so many years ago.

Vader would not rest until it was done.

Chapter Text

Part 38:

Obi-Wan’s skin was cool to the touch even without the bacta, though under the skin it felt like he was being slow cooked. The batch sunk between the layers of his skin far to slowly for his liking.

Tala stood in front of his tank, arms crossed over her chest, face halfway between murderous and worried. Nax stood next to her, a far to familiar bag clutched to his chest. 

Obi-Wan suddenly didn’t care about bacta anymore, but he knows they won’t let him out until he’s healed. He reaches out, bubbles filling the tank as pain blooms in his side, and knocks on the glass.

L-U-C-A, He spells out. Sitrep.

Nax puts down the bag, and signs back.

-

Leia did not like this woman. She was mean, and she dug her fingers into Leia’s arm like she was a stress toy. Luca had broken a lot of stress toys over the years, her fear of flying was tremendous.

Luca.

Luca Djinn, Skywalker. Her sibiling. Leia still hadn’t wrapped her head around it. Luca. Her best friend. Her confidant. Her over-dramatic rescuer who could do Jedi-magic and terrify the people trying to hunt them like animals. 

Her sibiling.

She wonders idly how long Luca had known that they were related. She gets yanked out of the thought by the mean woman grabbing her by the collar of her coat.

“Let go!” Leia cries. Her sibling had given her this coat. Leia was not going to let it rip.

“Look, little girl.” The woman bends down, a scowl on her face. “You don’t get to make any demands here. I am going to kill you, slowly, and then I’m going to ship your corpse to your father.”

Leia wants to shrink under the pressure, but its nothing compared to the riot of anger that Luca had pulled out of thin air on Daiyu. Its also nothing compared to the strength of her newfound sibling’s flying-vehicle panic on a good day. 

Leia doesn’t even think to cower. Its not in her blood. She opens her mouth to bite the woman, but a sentence comes out instead.

“Alderaan will never bow to the likes of you!”

The woman blinks, confusion taking over the air around her. Leia quietly preens, the scared portion of her head taking the backseat as she presses down on the confusion. Leia was good at secrets. At making people doubt themselves. She could do this easily. Her preconceptions of how this conversation will go flies out the window immediately. 

“What does Anakin Skywalker have to do with Alderaan?” The woman says it with such confusion that Leia falters. Oh.

That father.

Of course.

She scrambles for an explanation. “What does he have to do with Melida/Daan?”

That wasn’t an explanation, that was a redirection. What was that word Luca loved to use in these situations? Oh, right. Fuck.

-

Fuck was an understatement.

Fuck was so an understatement.

Lucia wordlessly screams into her hands and Luke stares at the floor. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

They were headed straight for the emperor. Straight to their collective death. Straight to lightning, and laughter, both causing pain.

Why had they done this again?

Right. They’d had a migraine and yelled at their overbearing parent.

They were so dead.

Chapter Text

Part 39: 

The holo is blurred and glitching. Its shades of blue are stark against a pitch black hand. A low growl sounds from the zabrak’s throat, resounding through the room.  Q’ira stiffens across from him, eyes locked on his tattooed red form.

“Kenobi.” Maul hisses. The holo glitches again from his too tight grip. The blue face of the jedi, clean-shaven and near unrecognizable, side eyed the governor harboring him. Kenobi looked exactly how he did on Naboo, minus the hair. Maul would have recognized him anywhere. His eyes snap up to Q’ira. “Find him.”

“My lord?” Q’ira’s voice trembles.

“Find. Him.” Maul rumbles, voice dangerous. “Find Kenobi, and bring him to me!”

The holo shatters against the wall as Q’ira hurries to make assurances. The mangled projector falls to the floor, spluttering before producing a image. Q’ira scoops it up on her way out the room, attempting not to show how ruffled she was. This was a rage unlike anything she’d felt from Lord Maul before.

This was more than just rage.

Or maybe this was rage, and Lord Maul had simply never been truly incensed before. That had been anger, rage, and roaring vengeance, simmered in a years long well of torture. That had been the rage of someone who was staring straight at the man who ruined his life. Except, unlike Q’ira with Han, Lord Maul had no love left for this Kenobi. Or maybe he did, and this was his twisted version of heartbreak.

-

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a force to be reckoned with during the Clone Wars. The Negotiator. The High Jedi General in charge of the entire Third Systems Army. One of the only jedi with actual experience on a battlefield. One half of the Skywalker-Kenobi pair. 

He was a bit terrifying to see in action, actually. But then again so were all the other jedi. It’s kind of comforting actually, Nax thought. That General Kenobi can make a comeback in a blink of an eye.

The Jedi General’s red hair shines in the light of the war room, still clumped with bacta. His back is still covered in burns, scars still new, tissue only half healed. His blue eyes are determined as he flicks through all The Path knew about the Project Inquistorious and the kidnapping of force sensitive children.

Both the Skywalker children were missing.

Nax adjusts the bag on his back. Luca’s bag. It held their coat, their Lula, and everything else the 10 year old had thought to bring. Which ended up being the basics of a survival kit.

They didn’t have any of it now. Nax wasn’t sure whether they would make it without it.

-

Luca’s breath is shallow. Their hands clutch to the cape around their shoulders as they exit onto the the lava flats. The air is ashy and smells of smoke and burning metal. Luca can see the fight on the river play out behind their eyes. The clashing of lightsabers. The hatred. The smell of burning flesh. Worse, they can feel the others. After all: Mustafar, as Hera Syndulla once said, is where Jedi go to die.

Their deaths cling to the rock. To the river. To the door. Screams resound across the foyer, cemented into every place the Jedi had tried to run. They could probably have counted them if they tried hard enough. Found out their names, and then given them to the stars.

Luca didn’t want to do that. Vader was already a monster. They had been scared of him for years, though they knew he didn’t want to hurt them. They didn’t need more nightmare material. They step ever closer to their doom; head held high and tears welling in their eyes, they march.

Luca didn’t fear death. They knew what came after it. If it saved their family and their people, they would walk to their own death a thousand times. Luca knew, deep in their bones, that was their heading. To death, and whatever life came after.

Chapter Text

Part 40:

Nield honestly didn’t know what was going on anymore. First he ends a war, loses his best friends and creates a government. Then Nield’s adopting a child while hiding said best friend from the people who massacred his entire culture. Then said best friend, now husband, and child go to find his child’s kidnapped sister. The sister who, get this, is standing in front of him being threatened with a lightsaber.

“Hi Uncle Nield.” Leia waves nervously. “Luca found out who our bio-dad is.”

Nield blinks. “You mean Anakin? They’ve always known about Anakin.” Obi-Wan had used to tell them stories about his former padawans apprenticeship as bedtime stories.

“Wonderful.” The red lightsaber wielding woman grins. “You’re exactly what I need.”

What?

-

Obi-Wan Kenobi steps down from the ship with the determination of a wild boar. Eyes wild and hair a mess, though he’d let Nax get the bacta out of it. Stewjoni were not a predator species, but in that moment, you could almost believe they were.This was the legend, passed down throughout the galaxy. Do not hurt the baby jedi, it said. Their parent will hunt you to the ends of the galaxy. They will kill you without remorse.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a jedi master. The empire had stolen his youngling. They would pay.

-

Luca fidgets with their fingers, twisting the fear and anxiety rioting in their body into a small ball and sewing it shut. They didn’t use this technique very often, only when they weren’t privy to a safe place to have a breakdown. But panic attacks often caught them unaware, so it wasn’t like they had the opportunity to use it often either. On top of all that, it was ultimately unhealthy. In the suppression of their emotions, they made it impossible to give their emotions to the force, which became problematic over long periods of time.

They’d exploded the kitchen because of it at one point. They’d had to get take out for two weeks and Obi’Buir still worried about the building’s integrity 4 years later.

This was it. They knew it in their bones.

Vanee, their father’s insane butler-person, laughs maniacally to the side, face having been shoved into the hallucinogenic lava fumes Fortress Vader boasted. Crosshair shudders at their side, and Luca briefly wonders whether he’d ever inhaled them before the shuttle’s door finally opens.

“You said you had a surprise for me, Lord Vader?” The even keeled voice is tinged with malice, the Naboo accent of the man’s words somehow making it sound even more terrifying. This was the dictator of the entire galaxy. This was their father’s slave driver. This was the Emperor.

Chapter Text

Part 41:

Nield is pretty sure this woman is an idiot. He also still had no clue what was going on. He’d mentioned that Anakin Skywalker was a known name in the household and now he was being threatened with death by laser sword (don’t tell Obi he called it that,) and his niece/adopted-child’s-twin-sister stood next to him as the woman dramatically threw her hands in the air and made elaborate death threats. 

Nield was pretty sure that you couldn’t be killed by a child’s play droid, though Leia looked pretty distressed that Lola had been stolen.

“Look, lady.” Nield sighs, cutting off the woman from her gory description of disembowelment using the blunt edged droid as a knife. “This is very… nice, and all. Can be be let go now? I have a meeting with our legislative branch in like…” He looks at his watch. “Half an hour ago apparently. Joy.” 

Leia side eyes him, and he grins at her. So what if he was having a little fun with this. He hadn’t been threatened since the war! In truth, his meeting with the legislative branch had been yesterday, but Crazy-Lady didn’t need to know that.

“I don’t care if you have a meeting!” She screams. “You are important to Anakin Skywalker and for that you will die!!” She winds back to swing her lightsaber at him.

Nield laughs, loud and bright. Leia recognizes it as the laugh he typically makes when Luca makes a dumb joke. “I’ve never met Anakin Skywalker.” 

The woman stares. “But-What-“ Her brows furrow and she turns on Leia, anger tattooed across her face. “You.”

Leia’s eyes widen in fear. “I didn’t do anything!”

The woman’s red lightsaber is leveled at the child’s head, and Nield sets himself in front of Leia. He was not watching another ten year old die. The woman growls. “Yes, you did!! You tricked me!”

“Tricked you?” Uncle and niece say in union. A quiet exclamation of jinx coming from the smaller brunette afterword.

“Yes!!” The woman’s lightsaber is raised to just under Nield’s chin, and he leans away from it. “You lured me out here, told me it would get me my revenge on Anakin Skywalker. You lied!! There is no revenge here, there is no nothing! And as such I’m going to kill everyone! Everyone on this pesky little planet!! Starting with you!!”

She pulls her arm back and lunges. A blue beam illuminates Nield’s face, clashing with the red of the woman’s lightsaber. Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber lies clutched in the governor’s hand. 

In the next second, the world explodes.

-

Obi-Wan Kenobi, now known as Ben Djinn, hates the Mustafar system with a burning passion. He had lost his Padawan here, though whether it was to the dark side or to death he wasn’t sure. It was the home of his peoples Murderer. It was the home of  Nar, where the Fortress Inquisitorious is located. It was where his people were kidnapped, tortured, enslaved, and massacred.

His child is in this system. On this horrid planet. He can feel them in the force as they slowly roll themselves up into that horrible ball they had maintained all those years ago. The one that nearly destroyed the house. The one that Anakin used to make too.

He draws his lightsaber. The Emperor was promised a surprise, huh? Obi-Wan Kenobi would be that surprise.

-

Nax, for one, thought this was a horrible idea. But he would follow his general the ends of the galaxy, and beyond that: This is his chance to save his brother… and to save his niece as well. The Clone Revolutionaries had been attempting to wrestle Crosshair from out of Vader’s control for years. There is nothing here that could stop him from succeeding.

Except maybe death.

-

The knot holding Luca’s emotions frays, and attempts to unravel as their buir jumps up from the lava river below the landing platform. The Emperor looks expectantly at Vader, yellow eyes boring into the man’s skull-like mask.

“Well?”

Vader stands from his kneeling position, and Luca mentally screams behind their sheilds. The subserviency, the.. Luca didn’t even know how to describe it. The pain their father was willing to take in order to be seen as good enough by this… depur!!

“Master.” Vader’s baritone doesn’t do well as a simper, Luca notes. “May I introduce my oldest child. Luca Amidala.”

“That’s Luca Djinn to you, Anakin!”

The two Sith Lords twist in union to stare at the scruffy Jedi intruding on their territory. Obi-Wan Kenobi stares back without an ounce of fear.

Luca sighs. Good grief.

Chapter Text

Part 42:

Nield had not braced for an explosion. There hadn’t been a single explosion on Melida/Daan since Nield had stop trying to dismantle the Houses Of The Dead. The man flies backwards into the wall, and then hits the ground hard. Leia, he notices, is sprawled next to him, a pool of blood slowly collecting itself around her head. Shab. Shab. Shab. Kriff. Fuck. (And boy did he need to stop picking up swear words from his ten year old.)

“Kenobi!” A lovely woman’s voice exclaims. “By order of the Lord of the Crimson Dawn, you are to come with me!”

The other-woman, lightsaber somehow still clenched in her hand, screams. “Kenobi isn’t HERE you idiot!!!”

The Crimson Dawn’s representative (and what had his husband done to attract that) raises an eyebrow. “We were given very strict instructions.” She retrieves a holo, holding it out like its all the evidence she’ll ever need. “To find Kenobi, and to bring him in.”

Nield presses a hand to Leia’s headwound, and represses the urge to scream. 

“Both are correct.” He finally manages. The arguing women twist to stare at him. “My name is Nield Kenobi. Obi-Wan Kenobi is my husband. I… I will go with the Crimson Dawn if I am able to acquire medical attention for my niece.” 

He hoists Leia high.

-

“Please. She’s only ten.” 

Blood and death stain the temple, as her crechemates bodies slowly go cold around her. The memory of blue eyes bore into her head. She was only 8.

And Leia Organa was only ten.

-

Q’ira makes eye contact with the other woman, and the inquisitor turns terrified eyes to the girl’s head wound.

“I’m coming with you.”

“You were trying to kill us two seconds ago!!”

“I’m coming with you!”

“Enough!!” Q’ira cries. “Just,” She sighs. “Get on the ship. Its this way.”

-

Vader lunges for Sidious the second Obi-Wan’s declaration is finished, and Luca facepalms. They did not understand what this gained their Father. Why attach now? Vader wasn’t going to win. Whether it was because of Sidious killing him, or the failsafe (though that was with Cylo more likely), Luca didn’t know.

But Vader could not defeat Sidious. Not without killing himself too.

As Sidious and Vader’s lightsaber’s clash, Obi-Wan takes the distraction to lunge towards Luca. Crosshair pulls them away, pressing the small child into his side. 

“Well that wasn’t necessary at all.” Luca mutters, letting themselves be man-handled by their parent. “We’re all on the same side here.”

Well, except Sidious. Luca thinks idly. He’s defiantly not on our side.

Vader crashes to the ground a few feet away, lightning coming off him in arcs. Sidious’ guards begin to fan out from their space behind him, heading towards Luca’s parents.

Sidious twists to look at Luca, and grins maniacally. “Amidala, was it?”

Luca shrugs as their pulled closer to Crosshair’s side. “Technically.” Now, apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Sidious’ grin widens, his smile splitting his face in half. 

“Wonderful.”

Obi-Wan ducks one of the red guard’s swing, and sprints at the Emperor. Obi-Wan Kenobi was not letting Sidious take yet another of his children. Sidious bats him away with a single strike of his lightsaber, sending him tumbling back into the swarm of Redrobes. Vader advances next, machinery still disrupted with arcs of left over electricity. Sidious watches his apprentice struggle through the swarm of Imperial Royal Guards in amusement.

Luca swore. Neither of them would get there on time. And the Redrobes were advancing on Cross’buir next. Crosshairs shoots at the guards, getting nowhere, as he attempts to pull Luca to safer ground. In an act of sudden desperation, Luca unwinds their knot of suppressed emotions, allowing their force signature to burst from behind their shields.

Sidious stumbles, and Vader lunges at him, lightsaber flashing out in a sharp arc. Sidious narrowly manages to avoid being beheaded.

Sidious’ anger fills the air, and he sends Vader to his knees with a sharp burst of lightning. Vader wheezes, and Luca can tell immediately that his suit’s rebreather is broken. Well, shit.

Sidious’ eyes lock onto them, twisted happiness shining behind his beady yellow eyes.

“Aja.” He breaths. The force resounds with correctness.

“What?” Luca manages to get out, grabbing Crosshairs by the elbow and dragging out of the arc of one of the Redrobes pikes.

They don’t see the other one stab out, though a warning blares in the force. Sidious’ warning. Look out, Aja!!

Luca has no idea who this Aja is. But they watch as Sidious screams, lashing out at his own guards when the pike’s electric node spears them in the side. Luca’s body jerks.

They had shocked themselves before, the buzzing sensation rolling up their arm as they attempted to piece together machinery. They had been electrocuted before, too. Sidious’ lightning had been relentless, setting their nerves on fire as they screamed at their father to help them. 

This was both of those combined, and yet neither. The sharp agony of the electricity turning into a sharp buzzing sensation as their life begins to slip through their fingers. They twist their lips into a wry smile as they finally understand. Sidious had known who they would become in their next life.