Chapter Text
The Malevolence was an impressive ship and Cal would have loved to scrap it back on Bracca.
As it retreated from the Republic’s fleet, too damaged to escape the range of the canons, the back of the ship was clear to the Padawan. The sheer size of the vessel was astonishing. The back of it alone was covered with more exhaust turbines than any other ship seen on Bracca. Each was lit as the ship puttered along, the flames matching those that flared along the centre of the vessel. While the damage was necessary, being the only thing stopping the Separatists from launching into lightspeed, Cal couldn’t stop himself from thinking of it as unfortunate.
It had been well over a year since Cere and Greez pulled him off of Bracca and out of Trilla’s reach, but the scraper in him remained. He always looked at a ship or its parts and saw just how valuable it would be to the Scrapper Guild. Even now, technically before he crash-landed on the planet for the first time and without the tattoo that signalled him a Guild member, he looked at the ship and equated it to the number of rations it could one day fetch him.
Sure, a damaged hyperdrive wouldn’t go for a lot, but getting his hands on that cloaking technology would let him eat for a week easily.
A ship of that size, and with all the current damage, would be a dangerous wreck to go through, but stars, Cal would have happily volunteered to be one of the members of that team. Even with all the rain Bracca constantly had, something he did not miss, it wouldn’t be the worst thing he scrapped. That went to the Providence-Class Dreadnought that nearly cost him an arm when he was sixteen.
Cal’s musings over the ship and its value were interrupted by Obi-Wan at his side.
The man had his arms loosely crossed in front of him in contemplation, his gaze thoughtful and focused as he stared out of the bridge’s main window. While Cal stood to his left, Master Plo Koon, freshly rescued by Anakin and Ahsoka, stood to his right. Behind the trio of Jedi stood Admiral Wullf Yularen.
“Commander,” said Obi-Wan, his head turning to look down at one of the clones that manned the Negotiator, “what is the damage level to the enemy ship?”
The clone in question, like all of those who served in the GAR’s Republic Navy, wore a steel blue uniform and lacked the typical white (or occasionally painted) armour found in the Republic Army. Cal didn’t know if he preferred the lack of a helmet or not. He couldn’t deny that there was something uncanny about being in a room of men where each of them looked identical.
“She’s lost her primary shield and stabilizers,” the clone responded, and Cal nearly frowned at the lost value, “but the ship is so massive it can take all the fire our cannons can give it.”
“We must summon reinforcements,” Master Plo advised, warnings edging in his tone.
Beside him, Obi-Wan raised a hand to stroke his beard but halted in his movements when a new voice jumped into the conversation.
“That’s why I’m here, Master Plo.”
Cal turned to look behind himself, BD-1 shifting on his shoulder to offer him a better view, and saw Anakin approaching with Ahsoka in tow. He hadn’t paid much attention to it before, but in a room with several other members of the Jedi Order, the Knight’s choice of black garments stood out more so than they ever had before. It felt odd to see such an acclaimed Jedi, the Chosen One, in black. Perhaps it was because Cal was so used to seeing Sith and Inquisitors in the colour, but it just screamed Dark Side to him.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said as he and Plo Koon turned as well, “were you able to contact Master Luminara?”
“Yes, Master. She’s busy with a fleet of Separatist reinforcements nearby.”
Master Luminara, from the little Cal could remember, was a model Jedi Master in the order. The woman was a textbook Jedi in ways the Order often neglected during the war. He had only spoken to her once, back when he was Master Tapal’s Padawan, but he remembered thinking fondly of her. Her fleet would certainly help with capturing the Separatist ship currently failing to escape.
Ahsoka came to a halt just behind Plo Koon while Anakin stopped next to Cal, looking directly over him to face the two Jedi Masters. He was certain it was not at all personal, but Cal pressed his lips into a thin line at the reminder of his current height.
“She won’t be able to give support until she’s turned them away,” Anakin added.
Obi-Wan nodded as if he were expecting this revelation. “Then we’ll have to work with what we have.”
Ahsoka slipped out from behind the three Jedi and lightly knocked her shoulder against Cal’s, nodding towards the unmanned consoles at the very front of the bridge. “C’mon,” she urged, her voice nearing conspiratorial as she led him away from the adults. There was a smile on her lips and the soft light of her Force signature grazed his arm. “Anakin showed me how to use the scanners on the Resolute.”
She gestured to various buttons, all unlabelled and identical to the surrounding ones, and explained what each was for. The two-dimensional, white-on-black image of the Malevolence appeared on the screen, centred in the hazy cross-hair. While the technology was certainly impressive, Cal couldn’t stop himself from comparing it to the scanners on the Mantis. In nine years' time, the improvements were noticeable. He found it mildly amusing to think that they mastered travelling at light speed before they were able to create clear scanners.
He watched as she made the image blurrier before focusing it. He did his best to listen and pay attention, trying to remember what she was telling him, but he could tell BD-1 was far more interested than he was.
The droid hopped off of Cal’s shoulder with a soft clang against the metal of the console. He was careful not to step on anything as he got settled in his new position. His head tilted to the side and an antenna flicked occasionally in curiosity. Each time Ahsoka pointed to a different button, his lens audibly adjusted with the quiet buzz of the motor.
Noticing his rapt attention, Ahsoka smiled at the droid. She gave him a pat on the head and said, “at least you’re paying attention.”
Cal blinked in surprise, not expecting her to call him out. His lips twitched down into a slight frown and he looked at her. “I’m listening,” he protested, though he knew it was a weak attempt. Instead of trying to dig his way out of the hole he would surely make deeper, he glanced over to the three Jedi on the Bridge. “I heard you’re the reason Master Plo and his men were found.”
Ahsoka shot Cal a knowing look, fully aware of him attempting to dodge her comment, but let it slide. She followed his gaze, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I guess so. After my outburst in the meeting, Anakin told me that it's better to make the Council think you’re doing what they want when you’re really not.”
A laugh was startled from his lips and he ducked his head to hide his amusement. “That’s some advice. No wonder Obi-Wan is going grey already.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a slight laugh of her own. Her expression sobered up slightly when her gaze landed on Plo Koon and Cal could feel the relief that slipped past her shields. She was better at controlling her Force signature now than she had been when they first met, but she still had a ways to go if she was going to avoid the Inquisitors in a few years. “I’m just glad Master Plo is alright.”
Nodding slightly, Cal quickly cast a glance at the Jedi Master in question. “You two seem close. What’s the history there?”
“He was the one who brought me to the Temple when I was a youngling.” She crossed her arms slightly as she spoke. “He’s checked in on me ever since.”
It wasn’t a common story, but not that rare either. Cal could remember others in his youngling clan being checked on by members of the Jedi Order. Typically, it was those like Plo Koon who brought the youngling to the Temple or those from the same star systems as them. They would check in, usually just by lingering during lessons, but there was an unmistakable bond that prevented those Jedi from taking their specific younglings as Padawan.
Cal never had that issue. He didn’t know anything about his home planet or whomever it was that brought him to the Temple. It never bothered him, even as a youngling. He took the teachings of attachment to heart at a young age. He was comfortable letting people go, keeping everyone at a safe distance--it was a Jedi way.
Even if attachments were the only way to survive under the Empire.
“Admiral, status report.”
Obi-Wan’s voice snapped Cal out of his thoughts. He turned to face his Master while Ahsoka went back to purposely fiddling with the buttons on the console.
“They’re not attempting to jump to hyperspace,” Wullf answered. “Their hyperdrive must be damaged.”
Cal furrowed his brow slightly at the observation. Had it taken that long for anyone else to come to that realization? He had assumed it was obvious. They were in open space and the Malevolence was outnumbered and under fire. Any reasonable general, droid or organic, would have taken the jump if they could have.
“This is our chance.” Obi-Wan’s tone grew more firm as he gave the order. “All ships, target the bridge, maximum firepower.”
The Negotiator’s bridge came to life as the ship’s full offence was activated. There was a slight murmur amongst the clones, the beeping around the bridge intensifying as the cannons fired towards the enemy ship. Blue rays of light shot forward and explosions lined the durasteel hull wherever they hit.
Being on this side of an attack felt off to Cal. He was so used to fighting with the Rebellion, working shoulder to shoulder with the Partisans to scrape and claw at the control of the Empire, that he forgot what it felt like to be as powerful as his enemy. There were times when he fought against stormtroopers on the ground when he could feel something rush through his veins. He may have been outnumbered, but he could feel his hands clasp around victory the second he took hold of his lightsaber.
That knowledge of assured victory was rare. There were times when faced with Inquisitors or when lives were on the line, that every breath he took was one he had to fight for.
If he blinked at the wrong time, the life of an ally could be snuffed out. If he dodged a blaster bolt instead of deflecting it, it could hit someone behind him. If he let his grip falter for just a moment, an entire chain of rebel informants could be slaughtered.
If his footing was just slightly off, he could fall to his death.
It almost felt wrong, like he was on the wrong side of history, as he stood within the safety of the attacking army’s flagship. There was an impact being made on the war, on the entire galaxy, with ramifications he felt in a different time. He didn’t sympathize with the droids, despite knowing they were capable of feeling just alive as he did--BD-1 being a testament to that. He didn’t pity the future Emperor for having one of his puppet ships taken out.
But, there was something to be said about the planets within the Separatist movement. If nothing else, Cal knew what it was like to want to escape the ever-tightening grip of the Galactic Republic, though it was no longer a Republic when he chose to take a stance against it.
“Master,” Ahsoka called out, her gaze trained on the screen in front of her, “I’m picking up a signal near the enemy vessel. Something just came out of hyperspace.”
“Enemy reinforcements?” Anakin was quick to ask.
“No,” she responded with a shake of her head. “It looks like a…” she trailed off slightly, her forehead creasing with confusion as she tried to get a better reading. Cal glanced down to the screen, trying to see what she was. “A Naboo ship.”
A wave of confusion washed over the room and Cal couldn’t stop himself from wondering if this happened in his time. He was certain he would have remembered hearing something about a Naboo cruiser showing up in the middle of an important siege. Younglings, if nothing else, were known to gossip. Information like that would have travelled faster than an ETA-2 Actis out of hyperspeed.
“Gunners, stand down,” Obi-Wan quickly instructed. There was a buzz around the bridge as the men worked to stop their assault. An air of annoyance subtly wrapped around the Jedi Master and Cal could feel subtle irritation leak into the Force. “What in blazes are they doing out here?”
“Ahsoka,” Anakin quickly jumped in, a sudden urgency to his words that wasn’t there before, “contact that ship.”
With a nod, she quickly pressed a series of buttons before holding one down. “Naboo cruiser, identify yourself.”
In response, a hologram instantly lit up on the council. It showed a young woman that Cal knew he had seen before. Her hands, while gripping nothing in the projection, were likely on the controls as she tried to fly around the flaming Malevolence. “This is Senator Amidala.”
“Senator?” Cal vocalized without meaning to.
Anakin looked far more surprised than Cal felt, concern sparking off of him. “Padmé, what are you doing out here?”
The boy couldn’t stop himself from raising an eyebrow in surprise. Weird that they’re on a first-name basis.
“I was sent on a special mission,” she responded, her tone alone stating that she was unprepared for what she just flown into. “The Senate was told the Banking Clan wanted to negotiate a treaty.”
“Get out of there as fast as you can!”
Kriffing Palpatine, was the only thing on Cal’s mind. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from scowling openly, no matter how badly he wanted to. That was the only logical explanation for the senator’s presence there. The Banking Clan absolutely did not want to negotiate a treaty since--and he was fairly certain--they were incredibly corrupt and profiting majorly off of the war. The only person within the Senate who could have known about the location of the Malevolence was Palpatine since it was, secretly, his ship.
There was a sudden flicker of the transmission and the robotic voice of a droid, likely a protocol droid, carried over the speakers. “Have we been hit?”
Padmé glanced over whatever was in front of her and her expression twisted with a grim realization. “I’m afraid it's much worse than that.”
“Padmé, what’s happening?” Anakin was quick to jump in. He sounded far too concerned for someone who, like most Jedi, was rarely expected to interact directly with Senate members.
There’s definitely a history there…
“I’m being pulled inside the droid cruiser by a tractor beam.” She seemed to grit her teeth for a moment before her features hardened with determination. “I will not be made a Separatist bargaining chip. Continue your attack!” While that was obviously not something the Jedi were going to agree with, she continued. “You must destroy this monstrous ship.”
Her words seemed to hit Anakin personally and Cal had the sudden feeling that he was interrupting something. The Jedi Knight closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. A war raged in his mind for only a brief moment before he turned to Wullf.
“Admiral,” he said, “order our ships to stop firing.”
The man nodded before he turned to give the order to the rest of the fleet.
Anakin, while apparently confident in his decision, left an air of uncertainty in the room. Ahsoka turned to look up at him as if answers might be written somewhere on his face, while Plo Koon seemed almost skeptical. Cal doubted the latter would truly allow the ships to keep firing and risk the life of the Nabooian Senator. He seemed silently concerned over the motivations employed by Anakin.
Obi-Wan, in contrast, seemed to have accepted the decision in stride. After having Anakin as a Padawan, he had certainly anticipated this outcome the moment the senator was introduced to the equation. He raised a hand to stroke his beard in thought, already attempting to piece together the next steps of their possible plan to rescue Padmé--a plan Cal absolutely needed to be a part of.
Gaining this possible connection to Padmé, one of the most beloved Senators in the Republic, would certainly help him slow, if not prevent, Palpatine’s plans to secure absolute power over the Republic.
Seemingly making up his mind, Anakin turned his back on the viewports that lined the bridge and began his walk to the doors.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Obi-Wan asked, turning to follow his former Padawan.
“Somebody has to save her skin.”
With a sigh of concession, the other responded, “I thought you might say that.”
“C’mon, BD,” Cal quickly instructed, and the small droid instantly filled in the blanks. He chirped in acknowledgement, a giggly edge lining the sound, and climbed up to rest on the Padawan’s shoulder. The boy quickly followed the two Jedi before anyone could react fast enough to stop him.
Was this a dangerous mission? Absolutely. Would a sensible adult allow a ten-year-old onto an unstable enemy ship? No. But were the Jedi really sensible adults? Also, no, so he would join them on that ship whether they liked it or not.
He managed to follow just behind Obi-Wan without being called out until they reached the hanger. The man stopped, forcing Cal to stop a metre behind him. His Master turned to face him, an eyebrow raised in question, and he knew he would have to argue his way onto the rescue mission.
“And where do you think you’re going, Padawan?” the man asked, his words pointing towards the obvious answer he wanted to hear.
“I’m going with you.”
“Cal--” Obi-Wan’s tone turned exasperated instantly. His lips tugged down into a frown, disapproval etching itself into his Force signature. It remained as steady as a lighthouse in a storm, but there was a flicker in its light that alluded to something deeper. Perhaps if they were closer--the bond between them was thin strings through the Force--Cal would be able to identify exactly why. Letting out a sigh, the man shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s far too dangerous.”
The Padawan had already anticipated that response and placed his hands on his hips defiantly. “I’m capable of handling myself. You saw what I did on Christophsis.”
“That was different--”
“How?” Cal quickly interrupted. He didn’t care if it was rude. He needed to be on that ship. “You and Master Skywalker will both be there if anything disastrous happens. It should just be a simple extraction mission.”
Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. He appeared to be fighting off a headache, sending a gentle warning to the boy through the Force. “Nothing is ever as simple as it appears, Cal. It would be irresponsible of me to put a child in such a situation.”
“I’m not a kid,” he snapped back before he could think better of it. He could feel the sudden spark of attention from his Master at the sharp words, but he didn’t dare elaborate. Instead, he let out a soft breath, trying to reel his temper back in as he carefully secured his shields. “Master,” he tried, his tone much calmer, “the Force insisted that you had to be my Master and, by extension, that I was ready to be a Padawan--your Padawan.”
The man’s expression pinched as he visibly clenched his jaw. “I’m still uncertain about that decision.”
“And that’s fine,” Cal insisted, brushing off the subtle stab of hurt from the words. “But I’ve proved myself to you already. What more could I possibly do to show you that you can trust me?”
That seemed to be the final bolt in the droid. Obi-Wan’s shoulders sunk in defeat, his movements reluctant as he shook his head. “Nothing, Padawan. You don’t have to prove yourself to me.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. When his gaze landed on the boy in question, Cal was surprised to see his eyes void of belittlement. “You are free to accompany Anakin and I if you see it best.”
“I do, Master,” he confirmed with a nod.
“Alright. Though something tells me you would have found a way to come along whether I granted you permission to or not.”
Cal barely managed to stifle his smile. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Lying is not very becoming of a Jedi, Cal,” the Jedi Master warned, but amusement seeped into the words as he smiled slightly. “Now come along. Anakin isn’t known for his patience.”
𓆩⟡𓆪
The door to the cockpit slid open with a soft, mechanical whirl. Passively, Cal noticed that it was the same type of ship he and Obi-Wan used to visit Jabba the Hutt on Tatooine earlier that week. There were four chairs inside, two at the centre console and one off to each side. It wasn’t the first time he found himself comparing it to the layout of the Mantis, but he wasn’t going to compete with Obi-Wan for the co-pilot seat.
Anakin sat in the main pilot seat already, his R2 unit standing a handful of feet behind him. The Jedi Knight activated the ship with the grace of an experienced starpilot and Cal could vaguely remember him being hailed the best in the Galaxy.
“I trust you’ve already formulated a brilliant plan to rescue the senator,” Obi-Wan remarked as he moved to sit down next to Anakin. Sarcasm was apparent in his voice, though it seemed to be in a good-natured manner.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” Anakin responded, without missing a beat, an easy confidence radiating from him.
“But do we have a plan ‘B’?” As Obi-Wan spoke, Cal came to a stop behind the two seats. “Every operation needs a backup.”
“I don’t have a backup…” he admitted without any reluctance, only mild annoyance. He perked up again when he added, “Yet. But I do have a plan for getting on that ship.”
“Really?”
“So,” Cal interjected, unable to stop himself from smiling slightly, “plan A?”
Anakin turned over his shoulder to shoot a look at the Padawan before he seemed to realize who he was looking at. “Why’s the kid coming?”
“Because I can?”
“He’s my Padawan, Anakin,” Obi-Wan interjected before anything more could be said. “This is a perfect opportunity to learn about the importance of backup plans.” That earned a glare from the Knight, but he seemed undisturbed by it. “Besides, he would have stowed away with or without our knowledge.”
Anakin raised an eyebrow at Cal expectantly, only to get a shrug in response. He seemed to take it as confirmation of Obi-Wan’s words and a subtle smirk spread across his lips. “We’re going to get along real well, kid.”
Cal grinned and BD-1 let out a beep of excitement.
“That plan, Anakin,” said Obi-Wan, trying to refocus the pair.
Anakin turned back around in his seat before looking at the eldest. “The enemy sensors are obviously damaged, so we’ll sneak in behind them and dock at the emergency airlock.”
Raising an eyebrow, Obi-Wan’s expression bordered on displeased. “That’s your plan? Just fly there, land, hope they don’t spot us, and walk in the door?”
“Basically.”
“Works for me,” Cal said with a shrug, completely unbothered by the bare-bones plan. It sounded a lot like something he himself would have come up with--his memories flicking back to when he nearly gave Greez a heart attack on Kashyyyk when he said he would just jump out of the Mantis and take control of an AT-AT.
Obi-Wan looked between the two, his former and current Padawan, and seemed to have years taken off of his life. “Oh, brilliant.” Reluctantly, as if he knew this was the best he was going to get from either of them, he turned to look out the viewport. “Let’s get going.”
The engine whirred to life without missing a beat and Anakin eased the ship out of the hangar and into open space. While the barrage of attacks from the Republic fleet had come to a halt, the Malevolence still looked as if it was under attack. Billowing fires poured out of the hull while embers and trails of smoke trickled behind the ship as it attempted to slowly putter its way out of the Republic fleet’s range.
When their small ship ghosted along the side of the Malevolence’s bridge, Obi-Wan crossed his arms. “If they spot us, we’ll be pulverized.”
“They’re too busy repairing the ship,” Anakin said, brushing off the concern in his former Master’s voice. “They don’t have time to notice us.”
“Subtlety has never been one of your strong points, Anakin.”
“Everything I know,” he responded, his words accompanied by a cheeky grin, “I learned from you, Master.”
“Oh, if only that were true.”
Cal, admittedly, almost felt left out as the two older men quipped back and forth, but wasn’t foolish enough to try to inject himself into the conversation. They didn’t know him well enough to give well-aimed insults, but he wasn’t willing to test that theory.
The ship tilted ninety degrees within a second, making the Padawan instinctively hold onto the headrest of Obi-Wan’s seat. Anakin flew the ship in smoothly, if not a little quickly, and made sure to dock it perfectly.
Best starpilot in the galaxy.
Exiting the ship, the trio--plus their two droids--embarked into enemy territory with an air that was almost too calm for the situation. Between the emergency airlock and the main hull of the ship was a simple rising platform that they easily fit onto.
“Anakin, you’re crazy,” Obi-Wan said decisively as if he had been contemplating it for a while. “Spinning,” he elaborated, “is not flying.”
Completely unbothered and bordering on amused, Anakin shot back, “But it's a good trick.”
“We do not want to be spotted,” the Jedi Master reiterated, clearly expecting things to go wrong quickly.
The door to the airlock lift opened right as he spoke to reveal two B1 battle droids.
When the droids laid eyes on them, they both flinched back. The one on the left brought its hands up to cover its head and let out a shout. “Ah! I knew it!” It pointed to the trio. “It’s them!”
Both droids began to slowly back up, the one on the right letting out a quiet, yet dragged out, “Oh, no.”
Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged a quick glance before they lunged forward, lightsabers activated, and sliced the droids in half. Cal and the R2 unit trailed behind them with a lack of urgency. The situation was clearly handled, and Cal wasn’t about to overreact by drawing his own blade.
“You stay here, R2,” Anakin instructed the droid as he deactivated his lightsaber.
The droid let out a disgruntled whir in response, bitterly stating that they had better not end up needing him to rescue them.
In response, the Knight only rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.”
Cal made sure to keep up with the two as they ran through the Malevolence, though he felt like a tooka chasing its tail. They were running through a massive cruiser filled with more droids than they would reasonably be able to take out before the ship’s general was alerted. He wasn’t quite sure who the Separatists put in charge of this ship but wasn’t all too keen to find out first hand.
They had been traversing through the ship for a little more than a minute when Anakin’s commlink flickered to life. He answered with a slightly tense, “Yes?”
“Master,” Ahsoka’s voice came through, “we’ve found the senator. I’m patching her through.”
Anakin came to a halt, forcing the other two to stop in their tracks. “Padmé?” he called into the device urgently.
“Anakin,” the senator answered, relief evident in her tone even if she too seemed to speak with urgency.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “Where are you?”
“On the lower levels.” Cal and Obi-Wan exchanged a look at the answer. “I’m fine, but I don’t know for how long. Droids are everywhere.”
“Obi-Wan and I are on board, too,” he responded, and Cal made a pointed effort not to point out his own presence. It made sense why he wouldn’t be mentioned, considering he didn’t know the senator when the other two seemed to.
“What?!” Padmé’s words came out shocked and mildly frustrated. “What are you doing here?”
Anakin moved to defend his actions. “We came to get you off this ship!” He pursed his lips in annoyance before changing the topic. “Ahsoka, how can we get to the senator?”
“According to our scans, there seems to be a large open area in the centre of the ship.” Faintly through the commlink, the beeping of buttons could be heard from inside the Negotiator. “It should be halfway between the two of you.”
“We’re on our way.” After a brief pause, he asked, “did you hear that, Padmé?”
Her confirmation came through and the commlink flickered off.
𓆩⟡𓆪
The centre of the ship was exactly as Ahsoka had said, a large open area. It appeared to be the main hub of the ship with large openings along the walls on either side. Through the middle were tens of tracks all layered up around each other in a sporadic manner. Upon each of them were large trains carrying various forms of cargo throughout the ship.
Cal crouched down at the edge of the opening, trying to get a glimpse at the openings--what he figured were likely stops for the trains--lower in the area. Padmé said she would meet them there, though it was likely they would arrive first. With the number of droids onboard, it wasn’t a matter of if they would find trouble, but when.
“I don’t see her, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, glancing around with a subtle frown.
“She’s here, Master,” Anakin reaffirmed. There was unwavering conviction in his voice that was justified by his saying, “I sense it.”
That led to a plethora of questions Cal had to file away in his mind for later. If Anakin was familiar enough with the senator to detect her, someone who the boy was fairly certain was not Force-sensitive, through the Force, then they had to be a lot closer than acquaintances. It wasn’t hard to find someone through the Force, but it did take knowing what they looked like through it. There were few people Cal could sense strongly from a distance: Merrin, Cere, and Greez. Others, he could only get glimpses of if something made them elicit a strong emotional response.
If Padmé was injured, then Obi-Wan would likely be able to sense her presence as well, but only Anakin could. Maybe Cal was being nosey, but this had to violate the Jedi Code’s ideals on attachments.
The sudden sound of guns going off bounced through the space and reached Cal’s ear, but the Force hadn’t warned him of any danger, so he knew it wasn’t directed at them. He glanced over the openings again, this time attempting to locate the origin of the sound, but Anakin beat him to it.
“There!”
Across from them, a far distance away, Cal’s eyes followed where the Knight was pointing and could barely make out the telltale sight of blasterfire. Two figures were making their way down the red ramp towards the trains.
While Cal tried to figure out a safe path to the senator, the two Jedi at his sides activated their lightsabers and leapt to the platform below.
“Kriff,” he cursed lowly, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and jumping after them.
Communication was clearly not a strong suit.
He watched them jump to the nearest train and felt the Force wrap around his legs. Its touch was light, almost apologetic, but it gave him enough of a boost to land a train car behind the Jedi.
BD-1 whirred softly, wondering aloud if things would always be like this.
“I don’t know,” Cal answered as he walked to where the other two stood, lightsaber in hand. “I’m not used to being out-reckless-ed.”
He came to a stop just a little behind Obi-Wan and the man turned with a slight twinkle of amusement in his gaze. “Keeping up, Padawan?”
Letting out a huff, the boy pursed his lips in mild annoyance. “It’s like you’re trying to leave me behind.”
The train came out of a small tunnel, likely acting as a structural hold for the hull. Across from them, Padmé stood on the ledge of the ramp with her protocol droid behind her. She turned and shoved the droid onto the passing train. It bounced when it landed poorly and slipped off the side of the car. It felt only a few metres before it landed on a different train heading in the opposite direction. She leapt onto the first train to escape the blaster fire.
“Padmé!” Anakin called out to her. He sheathed his lightsaber and jumped, covering an impressive distance towards her.
She responded in turn. “Anakin!”
The droids’ assault was not over just yet. Now, knowing the location of their stowaways, more of the army appeared at each of the openings. Cal didn’t see the missile fire, but he knew one had been launched when the track, roughly one hundred metres in front of Padmé, exploded. Anakin exchanged a few words with her that were far too quiet for Cal to hear over the wind from so far away, and she jumped toward him.
He caught her with the Force--Cal knew that needed an awful lot of trust--and pulled her into his arms in a… manner that was not at all professional.
“Nice catch!” Obi-Wan called out. “Cal and I’ll fetch the droid.”
He gestured for his Padawan to follow as he leapt to a different train heading towards the droid’s location.
Cal kept up, appreciating that his Master was actually telegraphing his movements before doing them. He seemed to have taken Cal’s earlier remark about being left behind to heart and slowed down as much as he reasonably could have. It was mildly infuriating to be stuck in a body much less capable than the one he was once so used to, but the boy managed the same bounds the elder did.
Part of him just wished they had more time. He would have loved to break into the engine room of one of these trains to see what circuits were inside. Just looking at the exterior and imagining the treasures inside would have made any scrapper giddy.
Down and to their right, a golden torso popped out of a crate. Obi-Wan used the Force to pull the droid further out, his expression twisting in concentration as he tried to stop it from being caught on anything. He pulled it halfway to them, just over another track, before Cal interrupted him.
“Master, train-” His warning didn’t come fast enough. The train hit the droid dead on, taking it deeper into the ship. “...nice.”
“Blast,” the man cursed. “That’s not good.”
Cal raised his wrist closer to his mouth and activated his commlink. “Sorry, senator. Obi-Wan hit your droid with a train.”
He gained a disapproving look from his Master instantly, but Anakin responded before anything could be said. “Ugh,” he groaned, disgruntled, “I’ll take care of it. We’ll meet you back at the Twilight.”
“No,” Padmé's disagreement sounded strong through the comm, “we can’t leave yet. I overheard Grievous. Their hyperdrive is almost repaired.”
“We’re already headed in that direction,” Obi-Wan said, his own commlink raised up. “We’ll make certain that the hyperdrive stays offline.”
𓆩⟡𓆪
Sneaking around the ship was far easier than Cal envisioned it being. He knew he was used to dealing with the constant surveillance of the Empire, regular patrols from stormtroopers, and the sneaking feeling that everything was going to get worse. Droids were easier to avoid than stormtroopers. Maybe it was something in their code that made them oblivious to things being just out of place, or something in their processors that made them more prone to arguing with each other than hunting down an enemy.
Cal made sure to stay just a step behind his Master in the same way he and Cere often did--though their positions tended to be reversed. He was the one who would lead the way into enemy territory, having defensive capabilities with his lightsaber that Cere’s blaster lacked. She would cover his back and guide him when needed. Now, he supposed he was probably far too small to be the one in front.
The door to the ship’s hyperdrive slid open quietly, and the pair walked inside.
A golden glow illuminated the entire room, the colour one Cal only ever saw on Separatist ships. The hyperdrive was massive, far bigger than any he had taken out of Venators on Bracca. The design was sleek and impressive. Unlike the droid army, it was crafted over time with care. Two droids stood at the control panel, rebooting the system to fix the hyperdrive as fast as possible.
They would have been easy enough to take out, but as they got closer, the full lights of the room turned on. Cal squinted under the sudden change in brightness, his hand reflexively falling to rest on his weapons tilt. On either side of them, the mechanical clank of droids approaching got louder and the lack of resistance on their journey over suddenly made a lot more sense.
It was an ambush.
A distorted, mechanical laugh rang through the air. It was gravely, painful, and Cal felt as though ice had been poured down his shirt.
He had just watched Trilla be cut down, too frozen in fear to move. Cere, upon the death of her former Padawan, reacted in the way any Master would and charged the Sith Lord. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even have the audacity to hesitate, and flung her off the ledge into the fiery smoke below.
Cal was helpless to stop him.
The Sith took a calm breath, as if the infiltration of his fortress was nothing more than an inconvenience. Through the filters of his helmet, it crackled and rasped. He took one step forwards, measured and collected, as his lightsaber flickered menacingly at his side. The blood-red glow reflected off his black armour.
“You would be wise to surrender.”
The Force hit Cal hard. It rammed itself against his ribs, kicking his heart back into gear. The air around him felt warmer as it wrapped around his body protectively. A steady thrum ran through it as it pulled him back to reality. It urged him to focus, to not get lost in events he could prevent.
“Kill them,” the general--Grievous declared.
Both Cal and Obi-Wan dodged the sudden barrage of blaster bolts, their lightsabers activating in the air. The former ducked behind the control console while the Jedi Master landed between two droideka.
“Follow my lead, Padawan,” Obi-Wan instructed, using the Force to push a droideka towards a bridge full of droids. It rolled, its forcefield deactivating, and ran into the incoming forces. It knocked each of them off the platform and into the depths of the ship. Cal copied the movement on the other bridge, forcing one of the remaining two droideka into the other half of the ambush.
The droids surrounding Grievous opened, but Obi-Wan used the final droideka as a shield. Its force field deflected the blaster bolts until the Jedi stood right behind it. He sent it towards the enemy general, offering a mocking salute when the latter caught it.
He gestured for Cal to follow, and the pair ran out of the room on the left bridge, deflecting blaster fire as they went.
“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s voice came through the commlink on the elder’s wrist. “Come in, Obi-Wan.”
“Anakin,” he answered, leading the way back towards the centre opening of the ship. “I’m afraid Grievous is on to us.”
“Yeah, we noticed.”
“We’ll rendezvous back at the Twilight. The fleet must engage the--” Obi-Wan cut himself off when a high-pitched, electronic squeal came through the comm.
Cal frowned, biting back a colourful string of words he was certain his Master wouldn’t appreciate. Instead, he settled on stating the obvious. “They’re jamming our communications. If they can do that, I guess it’s safe to assume they were listening in on our conversations earlier.”
“Which is why they were able to ambush us,” the elder agreed, his lips pulled into a frown.
They came to the opening in the ship, the trains still running beneath them. Learning from his earlier mistake of attempting to think things through, Cal managed to jump around the same time as the other, landing on an empty cargo train as it jetted towards their rendezvous point. He heard a metallic clang as Grevious landed on the train next to theirs.
“Now where…” Obi-Wan mused, looking down at the opposing train to try and see where exactly their opposition landed. He didn’t have to look for long as crates of cargo started to fly off the ship in Grievous’ rampage to get closer to them.
“What a temper,” Cal mumbled, and BD-1 chirped in agreement.
There was one thing about Grievous and his approach that caught Cal’s eye: the telltale blue and green glow of two separate lightsabers. He knew the name was familiar, but he never was good at remembering who was on the Separatist side of the war. That was what activated his memory.
General Grievous, a fearsome droid-hybrid known for his gruesome campaigns for the Separatists and his collection of lightsabers he plucked from the bodies of Jedi he killed--lightsabers Cal was going to get his hands on.
“Stay out of his reach, Cal,” Obi-Wan advised, clearly adverse to his Padawan getting into a head-to-head with someone as infamous as Grievous. The man leapt up, grabbed a claw above them, and used its torque to swing around and land a firm kick to the general’s cybernetic chest.
Cal decided the warning would have made more sense if he was actually the listening type. He leapt towards Grievous’ back, the droid no longer facing him, and went to slice through him with his lightsaber. Grievous blocked the blow with the green lightsaber, the hissing of plasma against plasma cutting through the air. Obi-Wan took the opportunity of distraction to attempt an attack, only to have it blocked as well.
The boy ducked under the green blade and, with a quick flick of his wrist, severed the wrist of the general. Grievous let out a grated groan of pain--something Cal didn’t know he could even feel with his enhancements--and Cal snatched the lightsaber from his hand.
The second his hand made contact with the metal of the blade, he was pulled into an echo.
He had just been granted Knighthood after years of training under his Master. It was supposed to be a simple mission, checking in on a distress signal sent out on a ghost ship. The massive ship drifted through space, but he wasn’t able to find any evidence of what could have taken out the crew. He turned a corner and the sound of a blaster rang out. He was so surprised he couldn’t react in time.
When he looked down, there was a hole in his torso, right under his heart.
There was a sharp zap to his neck as BD-1 pulled him out of the foreign memory. Cal ducked under Grievous' arm and made a break for it further up the train. He heard the clash of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber against Grievous’ remaining one before the man followed. They both jumped off the train when they reached the front, landing on one going the opposite direction.
“You took the lightsaber,” Obi-Wan remarked. His words weren’t judgemental nor critical, but a simple observation as he probed for more information.
“Yeah,” Cal said with a slight nod, looking down at the hilt of the blade. He deactivated it and subtly tightened his grip around the metal. It was different from his, from any that he collected while on the Mantis, but he liked it. The memories attached to it were strong, but he knew better than to explore them further. “He didn’t need it.”
“But you did?”
Cal shrugged. “It belongs with the Order.”
Something flickered through the man’s gaze, but he didn’t utter any opposition. He hummed noncommittally, glancing around for an exit. “Come, Padawan. Let’s get out of here.”