Ezra’s P.O.V.

“Captain, a ship has just dropped out of hyperspace. It’s approaching now.”

“It’s all right,” Hera said, “We’re expecting them. You can go ahead and give them the okay signal.”

Ezra sat at the edge of the room, swinging his legs and looking bored.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Kanan said, eyeing his padawan, “You all right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

“The ship is docking with us now, Captain,” the rebel crewman announced.

Ezra got to his feet, making for the door.

“Where’re you going?” Kanan demanded.

“Oh, I was just thinking there should be someone to greet them.”

“I don’t believe it,” Sabine said suddenly, staring directly at Ezra, “You’re still fanboying over them!”

“What? I was never fanboying over them!” Ezra insisted, reddening.

“You so were!” Sabine persisted, “And after everything they said to us?”

“Seriously, Ezra?” Kanan demanded.

“No! I am just acting as a friendly escort! You guys are crazy!” He turned on his heel, muttering indignantly, “Fanboying. Sure. Whatever.”

But once he was out of view of the others, he quickened his pace.

When the doors to the docking bay slid open, Rain’s eyes fell on the solitary figure.

“It would seem your welcoming committee has diminished considerably,” she commented.

Ezra took in the sisters’ casual garb, one wearing white, the other tan.

“We didn’t want you to feel overcrowded,” Ezra said smoothly, gesturing back down the corridor with a slight bow, “If you’ll follow me.”

Mira stepped forward with a bright smile, “Thank you. You’re Ezra, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” Ezra said, suppressing a thrill of pleasure, “And you’re Mira. Oh...is it okay if I call you Mira?”

“Of course,” Mira beamed.

Rain scoffed, stepping around the two and forging her own path down the hall. Ezra and Mira’s smiles promptly vanished, Ezra breaking into a sprint to catch up with his runaway guest. Loud, clanking footsteps followed in their wake, startling Ezra into casting a quick glance behind him. The imposing figure of Grievous approached, his massive talons ringing against the metal floors. Now that he was up close, Ezra could see just how tall he was. The droid must have been at least seven feet, judging by the way he towered over the young Jedi. Ezra had to stop himself from gaping at the General. Mira, however, seemed to notice his excessive staring and gave him a small smile. Ezra played it off as best he could, falling into step with Grievous.

“So,” he said casually, “You’ve got some pretty interesting eyes for a droid.”

Those golden eyes flickered in his direction, but it was Rain who answered.

“He is not a droid,” she emphasized, “Perhaps you should have your eyes checked, youngling.”

“So you’re a cyborg?” Ezra pressed, letting the undesired title of youngling roll off his shoulders, “Wow! You’ve got to be at least 90% machine.”

“Just about,” Mira answered.

“So you’re not a big talker, I see,” Ezra concluded to Grievous before turning his sights on Rain, “What about you? Can I call you Rain?”

Rain didn’t even look down at him, “No.”

“So what can I call you?”

“Nothing. I prefer that you don’t speak to me at all.”

Ezra only took a moment to recover.

“Well, that’s gonna be pretty hard to do seeing as we’re allies now.”

“Temporary allies.”

“That’s still allies.”

“Rain,” Mira chided softly.

Rain cast a glance back at her younger sister, then sighed.

“Fine. You may call me Callyn,” she said, addressing Ezra.

“Okay. That’s a good start. So, Callyn, those were some pretty epic moves you put on that Vader guy. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“I’m self-taught.”

“Really? No way! So I could learn to fight like that?”

“Well,” Mira cut in, “That’s not an entirely fair assessment. I mean, one needs to know the basics quite well before they can start exploring their own personal style, and personal style can also largely depend on what kind of lightsaber you have. I see your lightsaber is very unique, Ezra.”

“Thanks,” Ezra said, proudly patting the modified lightsaber at his hip, “I did the modifications myself.”

Rain’s piercing eyes sought out his weapon, giving it a brief examination.

“Combining a lightsaber and a blaster,” she said, “Interesting.”

“I think it’s quite impressive,” Mira pitched in.

Ezra beamed.

They emerged into the command centre, all eyes turning in their direction. Ahsoka was now present, standing at the far end of the room with her arms folded across her chest. A tense silence ensued, Ezra noting with discomfort that Kanan’s fierce gaze was fixed directly on Grievous. Hera stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation.

“Uh, welcome,” she said, extending a hand which was entirely ignored.

Rain’s eyes swept the room.

“Where is your Commander?”

Ahsoka shifted her hands to her hips.

“Commander Sato is occupied elsewhere. I’m in charge of the fleet presently.”

“Is that wise?” Rain queried.

“I beg your pardon?” Ahsoka hissed.

“I imagine you’re in a fragile state after the news I gave you at our last meeting.”

The Togruta glowered.

“Thank you for your concern,” she said icily, “But I am perfectly fit to lead.”

Rain merely nodded in response, her eyes landing on Kanan. After pinpointing the focus of his heated gaze, she turned to Grievous.

“General,” she said, “Perhaps you’d consent to wait on our ship?”

The cyborg dipped his head, turning and disappearing back down the corridor. Hera shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Kanan.

“We appreciate your agreeing to help us,” she said.

“Naturally,” Rain said, moving over to the only seat in the room and reclining.

“Might I ask where the fourth member of your party is?” Ahsoka asked.

“He should be along shortly.”

“And who exactly is this mysterious addition to your team?” Tano pressed.

Rain met the Togruta’s steely gaze.

“I’m sure if you’re patient, you’ll see.”

“Oh. I see. I merely assumed it wouldn’t be asking too much to know his identity, especially after your rather risible demands. Tell me, will my team be receiving a briefing, or is your strategy secret as well?”

“You will have your briefing as soon as my associate arrives. As far as strategical prowess is concerned, I defer to him.”

“So in other words,” Kanan said sharply, “You don’t have a plan.”

“Not yet. These things do take time. Are you in a rush? We did only just arrive, and I deeply mislike being underprepared. Of course, if you’d rather not consent to my leadership or planning for this mission, I will gladly return myself and my team to our base.”

Hera stepped forward, intervening quickly, “We already accepted your conditions. We won’t go back on our word.”

“And we won’t go back on ours,” Mira replied, aiming a pointed look at Rain.

Rain merely turned away. A long silence followed.

Ahsoka was the one who broke it, muttering a quick “excuse me” before heading for her private chambers. Ezra’s spirit sank.

Mira’s P.O.V.

Mira’s spirit sank as she watched Ahsoka make her exit. She briefly glanced at her big sister, feeling a mix of anger and regret.

Why was Rain like this?

I know why…

It was one of the many things that they simply didn’t talk about.

Just like those bad dreams I know she’s been having.

Mira turned back to where Ahsoka had been just moments before. She sighed, letting her feet carry her in that direction.

I guess this is partially my fault. It was my idea to ally ourselves with this rebel cell, and this is what they’re being subjected to because of it.

Mira pressed on until she reached the door to Ahsoka’s quarters, pausing before rapping her knuckles against it. After a pause, a brusque voice answered “come in” and she did so. Ahsoka looked up in surprise.

“Mira,” she greeted, “I wasn’t expecting to be followed.” She smiled gently. “Especially not by you, though I suppose I should’ve.”

The door slid shut behind Mira.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said, “For the things Rain said...about your master.”

Ahsoka’s face fell, her smile dying.

She uttered a resigned sigh, “Thanks, but you don’t need to apologize. I feel like a part of me always knew the truth. I was warned; I should’ve seen it coming. I guess…” She sighed. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

Mira stared down at her hands, trying to find the words to speak.

“I lost my master during Order 66,” she said at last, “Master Yoda, Master Kenobi, and I broke into the Temple after the purge and I found her body. I was devastated. I felt lost without her; I still do sometimes. But I can’t begin to imagine how much worse it is for you, knowing your master still lives as a twisted version of himself.”

Ahsoka uttered a somber sigh before shifting the conversation’s focus, “I’m just happy to hear that Master Yoda and Master Kenobi made it out safely. Where are they?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know where they went, but I pray for their safety every day.”

“How did you survive the purge?” Ahsoka queried.

“By some miracle. And you?”

“I guess I could say the same. I was with Rex at the time—”

“Rex?”

“One of the clones...and a friend.”

“Rex was a clone?” Mira echoed, “But...the clones—”

“I know. The clones were created with an inhibitor chip that ensured they would follow Order 66 when the time came. I was able to remove Rex’s chip. The others...weren’t so lucky. When our ship crashed, Rex and I were the only ones to survive.”

“If only we’d known about the chips sooner. Your friend Rex...is he all right?”

“Yes. He’s safe.” Ahsoka paused, shifting her gaze to the side. “Mira...those things I said about Rain all those years ago...I never should've mentioned her.” The Togruta returned her focus to Mira, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You wanted to forget her, and—” She gave a gentle laugh. “—I don’t blame you. It looks like she hasn’t changed much at all.”

“She…” Mira sighed, clasping her hands together absent-mindedly, “Never mind. I forgive you. You were only speaking the truth. Rain was a traitor. And if I’d known the two of you weren’t on good terms before Rain left the Order—”

“Oh,” Ahsoka interrupted with another light laugh, “That. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“I’m surprised you couldn’t get along. I thought the pair of you to be so alike.”

“Well, we both had a fondness for disobeying orders, if that’s what you mean. But, I’m curious,” she said suddenly, waving her hand dismissively, “Why did you agree to join her?”

Mira turned away, letting the wheels of her mind turn.

Why DID I join her? What was I thinking?

She gave a gentle shrug, fixing her attention back on the Togruta and forcing a small smile, “We’re sisters.”

Ezra’s P.O.V.

“So, exactly how long have you...elite been fighting the Empire?” Kanan pressed.

Rain regarded him blankly, “Since shortly after its rise. I prioritized perfecting my team’s ability to fight as a unit. And you?”

Kanan drew back slightly, his aggressive posture falling away, “What?”

“Oh, forgive me. You are not the leader of your cell, am I correct? What do you call yourselves again? The Spectres? Tell me—” Rain got to her feet. “Can you truly operate with a ghost-like presence?”

Ezra pushed himself away from the wall.

“We’re not so bad. Right, Kanan?” he interjected.

“Maybe not all our stealth missions have always gone so smoothly,” Kanan said defensively, “But the Empire hasn’t caught us yet.”

“You seem to have a short memory, Kanan. Last time I encountered this cell, your fleet was on the brink of destruction at the hands of Imperial forces.”

“And if I recall correctly,” Kanan hissed, “You took your sweet time coming to our aid.”

Rain’s gaze shifted, “We were...collecting our thoughts.”

“When my team sees someone in trouble, we help them. We don’t sit on the sidelines debating whether or not it’s worth the risk.”

Rain’s focus centered on Kanan’s face again.

“A noble sentiment,” she said, “And a stupid one.”

Ezra took a step toward her, his face hardening, “How can you say that?”

Rain turned on him.

“Things are never so simple, youngling. My goal is to bring the Empire to its knees, not to dither about wasting my time with every sob story in sight. To do so would make no difference to the current status. If a few must be sacrificed in favor of the many, so be it.”

Kanan opened his mouth to retort but stopped short at the sound of Mira and Ahsoka re-entering the command centre.

“We aren’t here to discuss our beliefs,” Hera said, addressing Rain and Kanan, “All that matters is that we share a common enemy.”

“Um, Commander Tano?” the rebel crewman at the control panel piped up, “There’s a ship requesting to dock with us. Shall I give him the go ahead?”

Tano arched a brow at Rain.

“Your companion, I take it?”

Rain gave a single nod. Ezra noted that Mira looked oddly uncomfortable.

“Fine. Give him the go ahead,” Tano told the crewman.

This should be interesting, Ezra thought.

Sabine glanced at him, her expression withering.

“Well, aren’t you going to run off and play welcoming committee again?”

“What? No! I’m sure he can find his own way. Besides, if you’re so worried, why don’t you greet him?”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Sabine uttered a dry laugh, “Not my thing.”

Ezra crossed his arms, muttering defensively. Silent anticipation hung over the room with all eyes on the open hallway. One minute passed, then two, then three.

Then Ezra heard the sound of footfalls growing steadily closer and a thrill of excitement ran through him.

Whoever this character was, he had to be impressive for that stuck-up grouch Rain to consider him part of her elite.

Hopefully he’s the more talkative, friendly type.

The figure appeared, forcing Ezra to do an almost immediate double take. The stranger was tall and lanky, his face shadowed by the brim of a hat. His right hand rested on one of two matching LL-30 blasters, his long fingers lightly clasping the handle. His skin was a dark blue, his eyes a burning red.

“No way…” Sabine whispered.

Ezra glanced at her quickly, observing the look of utter shock on her tanned face. Everyone else in the room bore the same expression, but for entirely different reasons.

The name ‘Cad Bane’ echoed across the command centre, leaving a very confused Ezra standing in utter silence.

He turned back to Sabine, leaning in close to whisper, “You know this guy?”

Sabine’s expression morphed into one of excitement.

“Of course! You don’t?”

Ezra wasn’t sure how to answer.

Bane’s gaze swept the room before settling on Rain. Aside from Sabine, she was the only one smiling.

“Hello, darling,” she greeted.

Bane never got the chance to reply.

“Cad Bane.”

Ahsoka’s voice rang cold and clear.

Kanan stabbed a finger at Rain, “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” His hand flew to his lightsaber, igniting it. “She sold us out!” he snapped.

“What?” Ezra exclaimed.

“This money-grubbing slime has been in the Emperor’s pocket for years!” Kanan continued.

Rain’s eyes narrowed to slits, burning with a fierce light.

“I suggest you put your weapon away,” she warned.

Bane, on the other hand, seemed amused. The corner of his mouth turned up as he observed the tense scene before him.

“Well,” he drawled, “It’s been a while since I’ve experienced this sort of...hospitality.”

His grin widened, revealing a set of sharp fangs. Ezra saw Hera reach for her blaster, signalling that the situation was very serious. Sabine’s smile had long since vanished, her blasters ready in both hands. Bane’s eyes fell on Hera, his grin never wavering.

“Take it easy there, sweetie.”

Kanan bristled, “What did you just call her?”

Ezra hardly noticed when it happened, but Rain was suddenly on her feet, a look like death in her gaze.

“I don’t take it lightly when my companions are repeatedly insulted and threatened,” she said evenly, “This is your final warning. Put your weapons away.”

Ahsoka pointed a dazzling white lightsaber in Rain’s direction.

“Let’s hear you explain yourself first,” she challenged.

Rain made no move. Instead Mira lunged forward, grabbing Ahsoka’s arm.

“It’s okay,” she insisted, surprising the Togruta with her forcefulness.

Ezra saw fear in the younger sister’s eyes.

Bane was clearly unfazed by the whole situation.

“I seem to recall meeting you somewhere before,” he said, addressing Ahsoka.

“Of course,” Rain cut in, her expression smug, “Ahsoka Tano, the odious child ever following at Anakin Skywalker’s heels.”

Bane laughed, “Oh, yes. I remember now. Who would’ve thought that spindly little nuisance would grow into such a pretty lady?”

Rain frowned, “Don’t flirt with that. You don’t know where it’s been.”

“Enough,” Kanan snapped, “I want an explanation. Now.”

Rain sighed, “Honestly, you people are so prejudiced. Bane shares a similar story to the General. He lost interest in the Empire shortly after its rise.”

“And why is that?” Hera pressed, meeting Bane’s leer with unwavering resolution.

“You can’t blame a man for playing his cards right,” Cad replied, “I’ve enjoyed the Emperor’s generosity, all while supplying my services to his enemy. It’s nothing personal, just business.”

He and Rain exchanged a split-second look, too quick for Ezra to read.

“And why should we believe you?” Ahsoka demanded.

Rain lifted her hands above her head, letting them rest there for a moment.

“Fine,” she said, “Have it your way. It’s obvious you do not desire assistance, so we shall not give it.”

She let her arms fall to her sides, making her way to the exit with long, unhurried strides. No one else moved.

It was Bane who spoke first.

“Hold on,” he said. Rain paused, glancing back, but Bane wasn’t looking at her. “I didn’t drag myself all the way out to the middle of nowhere to be turned away. You want to get to Stygeon Prime? You want to send the Emperor a message? Then I’m your best bet. There’s a reason they call me the greatest bounty hunter since Jango Fett. So what’ll it be?”

Sabine was the first to lower her weapons. After a moment of silence, everyone else followed suit.

“Good. And one more thing before we get started,” Bane continued, “I’m sure you all understand that it would be rather unfortunate for me if the Emperor ever found out about my role in this venture. If I ever find that one of you squealed—” His grip tightened on his blaster. “—I will hunt you down and kill every last one of you.”

Cad’s remark was met with cold silence. He didn’t even blink.

“Now, with that out of the way, let’s get down to business. Rain, I’ll be needing your General present for this briefing.”

Rain nodded, quickening her pace. Mira jumped forward, pausing to give Ahsoka one last reassuring—or what Ezra assumed was meant to be a reassuring look, before sprinting after her sister.

“I’ll go with you,” Mira volunteered.

Bane, at the sight of her, tipped his hat.

“Mira. Always a pleasure to see you.”

Mira brushed past him without so much as a word, leaving a tense silence in her wake. Kanan turned to Ahsoka with a look of incredulity; the Togruta’s expression was uncertain.

Well, Ezra thought dryly, This is going just great so far.

Mira’s P.O.V.

“Rain! We need to talk.”

“Agreed. You could have been a little more helpful.”

“What?! I could’ve been more helpful? You were trying to pick a fight with them!”

“That’s funny,” Rain hissed, “I seem to recall them trying to pick a fight with us. Not you of course. You’ve already made it clear what side you’re on.”

“There are no sides here, Rain,” Mira sighed, “We’re all on the same side.”

“No. No, we’re not. I don’t know why I should have to explain that to you at all. The very fact that we came all this way to put our necks on the line for them and they insist on treating us so despicably—”

“What are you talking about? You’re not taking this seriously, Rain! The fact that you brought in Bane, Bane of all people, is proof of that! You can’t complain about risking your life for them when all you’re trying to do is pull a cruel joke! In case you hadn’t noticed, nobody’s laughing!”

“Just because you choose to dislike him, doesn’t give you the right to treat him the way you do. We wouldn’t even be where we are now without him, and if I recall correctly, he’s contributed a hell of a lot more than you ever did.”

Mira stopped in her tracks, feeling the sting of Rain’s words.

“That’s not fair,” she murmured.

Rain paused, giving Mira a sidelong look. Mira could see the rage burning behind her sister’s eyes.

“Don’t tell me about fair,” Rain growled, “You should know better.”

She turned away, lengthening her stride and leaving her little sister behind.

Rain’s P.O.V.

A twenty-year-old Rain found herself sprawled across an unmade bed, staring up at the dirty ceiling, feeling slightly tipsy.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered.

She heard the clinking of glasses as Bane, standing somewhere on the other side of the room, poured himself another drink.

“She’s not even trying,” Rain continued, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I can’t even talk to her about it without getting angry.”

“Then don’t talk about it,” Bane said.

Rain turned her head to direct a withering stare at the bounty hunter.

“Thanks, that’s so helpful.” She fixed her gaze back on the ceiling, uttering a frustrated sigh. “The situation is hopeless. She refuses to get along with Grievous, she refuses to get along with you—”

“I noticed.”

“You know what?” Rain snapped, “It’s your fault for telling her we were sleeping together! Now all she sees when she looks at you is a disgusting slimy low-life.”

Bane chuckled softly to himself, prompting another withering glare from Rain.

“That’s not funny. I’m trying to maintain a relationship with my little sister, and you’re making it nearly impossible.”

“Well, I suppose you could always cut me off, let me find someone else.”

Rain could hear the laughter dancing on the edge of Cad’s voice, but her frown only deepened.

“You’re hilarious. Now shut up.”

“Now, now, little lady, is that any way to talk to your benefactor?” Bane chided, moving across the room to sit next to her on the bed.

Rain shifted closer to him, resting her head in his lap and focusing on the feel of his long fingers running up and down her arm.

“Nothing I do is good enough for her anymore,” she murmured, “I can’t even remember the last time she didn’t criticize me for every little thing I did. I don’t know what she wants from me. I know the Jedi...I know what happened at the end of the war still affects her, but I can’t turn back time. I can’t make things go back to the way they were. All I can do is prepare for the future. But if she insists on dragging everyone down, we’ll never get anywhere. More than anything, I just want to make sure she’s safe—Grievous too...and you of course, but I can’t do that until I’ve ensured that we can function as a team.”

“Hmm. Good luck with that.”

Rain felt a spark of annoyance but it died almost instantly.

I don’t blame him. He’s already heard all this a hundred times over. After all, it’s been...how long? Two years? It feels a lot longer. I guess nothing ever changes except for the worse. Unfortunately, you can’t build a team out of stubborn, proud people who all see themselves as natural leaders. Bane, Grievous, Mira...they’re all stuck in their ways. I’ve tried to compromise, but I can only take us so far on my own. When is this going to end? When am I going to stop feeling like I’m going in circles?

Rain had long since stopped asking herself the question.

Never. It never stops. The whole universe is spinning in endless circles. Wars give rise to more war and countless lives are lost to the endlessly repeated mistakes of the past. Am I taking it seriously? Yes. Always. And I will do whatever it takes to break the cycle. One way or another, the Emperor WILL fall.

Ezra’s P.O.V.

“So...he’s a bounty hunter?”

Ezra regarded Sabine’s grinning face with incredulity.

“He’s not just any bounty hunter,” she whispered excitedly, casting frequent glances at the subject of their conversation, “Weren’t you listening? He’s the greatest bounty hunter since Jango Fett!”

Ezra cocked an eyebrow, “Nothing you’re saying means anything to me.”

Sabine sighed exasperatedly, “Look. You see his gauntlets?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all his own tech. And it gets way better. Bane is the only bounty hunter to ever successfully break into the Jedi Temple.”

“Really?” Ezra queried, his interest piqued. “Wait. Hold on. Isn’t he the guy you painted on your wall?”

Sabine’s eyes widened in sudden panic, “What? No!”

Ezra grinned mischievously, “Now who’s fangirling?”

“Shut up!”

Ezra turned his attention back to Bane, who was now reclining opposite them, one leg propped up on the other and a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Well, are you going to go talk to him?”

“No! Are you insane?” Sabine hissed.

Ezra rolled his eyes, grabbing his companion by the wrist and dragging her after him.

“Come on.”

“Ezra, no!” Sabine whispered urgently, but her protests fell on deaf ears.

Ezra swooped in, seating himself immediately to the right of the bounty hunter. Sabine hesitated a moment before flanking Bane on the left. Ezra leaned back, a confident grin pasted on his face.

“So,” he said smoothly, “My friend here tells me you have an impressive list of accomplishments.”

Bane blew out a cloud of smoke, his eyes firmly fixed ahead. Ezra had to suppress the urge to choke.

“What’s it to you?” the bounty hunter growled.

Ezra cleared his throat, gesturing to Sabine.

“This is Sabine. She’s a big fan of yours.”

Sabine rapidly, almost imperceptibly started shaking her head, her expression one of horror. Ezra decided to press his luck further.

“Actually, she was hoping to get an autograph.”

Sabine stabbed a finger at Ezra before drawing it across her throat in an ominous, silent promise. Bane’s eyes caught the movement, turning in her direction. Sabine’s hands flew to her lap, her body going so rigid that Ezra was almost convinced she’d been turned to stone.

“I don’t do autographs, kid,” Bane said bluntly.

“No, no!” Sabine said, her words tumbling over one another, “No, that’s fine! Just ignore him.”

“I’m afraid celebrity life doesn’t agree with him.”

All three of them lifted their heads at the sound of Rain’s voice, watching as she approached. Ezra peered around her to find Grievous standing in the doorway and Mira locked in a whispered discussion with Ahsoka.

“This man is a billionaire, yet still insists on renting from dingy hotels,” Rain continued.

“They’re quieter,” Bane insisted.

Rain paused as she reached them, waving her hand at Sabine.

“Excuse me, but I believe you are sitting in my spot.”

“Oh! No problem,” Sabine said, scooting over to make some space.

She looked largely relieved to be away from Bane, if only by one seat. Rain settled into the newly opened space, extending a hand palm-up in front of the bounty hunter. Bane drew his cigarette out of his mouth, a smug smile stretching across his face.

“Something I can do for you, doll?”

“Yes,” Rain said, snatching the cigarette from him and flicking it away, “You can surrender all the cigarettes on your person before I’m forced to search you and confiscate them.”

“That’s not much of an incentive.”

Rain merely replied with a withering look.

“So why would a lone bounty hunter go against the Emperor of all people?” Ezra cut in, “There’s no way you could pass that for a business venture. No one would be crazy enough to pay you for that, except maybe us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bane said.

“It’s not business,” Rain spoke up, much to Ezra’s surprise, “What do you think a bounty hunter’s greatest weapon is?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“His wits?” Sabine offered.

“His reputation,” Bane answered suddenly.

“Really?” Ezra queried.

“We don’t mix well with the in-crowd,” Cad said.

“Well, I don’t know. I think I’d rather be famous than infamous,” Ezra mused, “Who’d want to be remembered for all the bad things they did?”

“Ezra,” Sabine said wearily, “We are infamous.”

“Eh, it depends on how you look at it.”

“If we’re all ready,” Ahsoka interrupted, “Perhaps we can get on with this briefing?”

Everyone leisurely gravitated toward the holoprojector in the center of the room, Kanan and Grievous being the only two to hold back, standing a respectable distance behind everyone else.

“Well?” Ahsoka prompted the bounty hunter, “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Perhaps we should start with what you know,” Rain answered instead, “I assume you took appropriate measures. Research, monitorization—”

“How exactly are we supposed to monitor the Spire?” Ahsoka interrupted incredulously.

Rain quirked an eyebrow, “Surely you have the resources? Spies? Technicians? If I were you, I would take advantage of your sizeable faction.”

“We do,” Ahsoka said defensively.

“So what do you have to show for it?”

“My team has successfully infiltrated the prison before,” Hera cut in.

“I know,” Bane replied, popping another cig in his mouth and lighting it, “Ironically, it was when security doubled on Stygeon Prime.”

Judging by the bounty hunter’s tone however, Ezra figured there was nothing ironic at all about the situation.

“We have a general idea of the layout. Unfortunately, at the time, we were going off outdated schematics,” Hera continued, “The only other information I can offer is the frequency I used to jam Imperial scanners.”

“So in other words,” Rain said coolly, “You have nothing to offer.”

Hera’s gaze fell, but Ahsoka’s hardened.

“I suggest you refrain from patronizing my subordinates,” she hissed.

“If you did not want me to be patronizing, you should have encouraged your subordinates to make some effort toward learning more about your target. Instead, you have placed that indescribably important task on the shoulders of my team without warning or apology, so perhaps you can appreciate my irritation over the matter.”

Ahsoka didn’t back down.

“I don’t particularly appreciate any of your so-called ‘assistance’ so far. My team is perfectly capable, and if you have a problem with that, I’ll be happy to take your place.”

Ezra felt a surge of excitement, but as soon as he caught sight of Hera’s shocked expression, it quickly died.

Rain was the first to voice the Twi'lek’s obvious concerns, raising a quizzical eyebrow as she spoke, “You’d abandon your fleet?” She followed the query with a tsking noise. “What would your commander say?”

“He’d understand my decision. After all, unlike you, I’ve actually earned respect.”

Had he not been so tensely attentive, Ezra might have missed the subtle movement of Rain’s frame arching forward, almost like a creature of prey contemplating pouncing. Even more concerning was that out of the corner of his eye, Ezra saw Grievous mirror the movement.

They both froze however when Bane snapped, “If you two aren’t going to shut up and listen, you can take your catfight elsewhere. I’m not interested in putting up with your pathetic rivalry. You want to settle this, you do it right, and stop hiding behind your petty words like gutless filth.” Cad turned his attention to Hera, leaving most everyone in the room in stunned silence. “I don’t care about what information you have. I already know everything I need to. All you and your little team need to do is remember your orders and follow them.”

“Right,” Hera blurted, “Of course.”

Bane tapped a button on his right gauntlet, revealing a small chip, which he then inserted into the holoprojector. An image of the Spire at Stygeon Prime sprang to life, prompting everyone to instinctively lean forward.

“These schematics are up to date,” Bane said pointedly before beginning, “Now I’m sure you know how this works. This prison was designed to entrap Jedi. Only the mainframe computer contains accurate information on the facility; the rest are only meant to be misleading.”

“We found that out last time we were there,” Sabine chimed in.

Bane shifted the cigarette in his mouth, contemplating her silently for a moment.

“Unfortunately I won’t be able to hack the computer myself. I’ll be preoccupied elsewhere, so I’ll be needing someone experienced enough to do it in my place.” The bounty hunter turned to Hera. “You do have such a person on your team, don’t you?”

Sabine raised her hand hesitantly, “Um, that would be me.”

Another silent moment of contemplation followed. Ezra glanced from Sabine to Cad, back to Sabine. Wren seemed to be steadily shrinking under Bane’s gaze until at last he tore it away.

“Fine. That settles that.”

Bane expanded the image of the Spire on the projector, scrolling through the numerous floors until he came to the very base of the building. There, at the heart of the prison, a large object illuminated in red revealed itself. Ezra leaned closer.

“What’s that?”

“That’s the reactor that powers the prison,” Bane replied, dragging on his cigarette, “Our goal is to blow it up. I have enough explosives to do it; Rain and I just need to get down there and rig a timer. We’ll be splitting into four groups. Pilot stays with the ship, the General and Mira will be backup.”

“What about the rest of us?” Ezra piped up.

Bane glanced at him, then let his blood red eyes wander over the rest of the group until they came to rest on Kanan.

“What’s your name again?”

Kanan folded his arms across his chest, replying coldly, “Kanan.”

“You’ll go with your technician,” Cad explained, gesturing to Sabine before scrolling back up by several floors on the holomap, “You need to hack the main computer and shut down all the security. No matter what happens, this little expedition stays quiet. Like I said, it would be unfortunate for me if the Emperor found out my role in this. If there are any witnesses, they can’t be left alive.”

A somber silence followed.

Ezra broke it.

“And me?” he pressed.

Bane blinked at him, the corner of his mouth pulling downward.

“I’m not interested in bringing any more than one kid on this trip,” he said disapprovingly.

“What?” Ezra queried, taken aback.

“The terms were that the Phantom crew accompany you on this mission,” Ahsoka pointed out sourly, “All of them.”

“That seems like a rather unnecessary risk,” Rain pointed out coolly.

“Ezra has proved himself time and time again,” Kanan insisted, “He’s ready for this.”

Ezra felt a thrill of pride at his master’s words.

Rain narrowed her eyes at Kanan, “Fine. We can put him with Grievous and Mira. He can be backup.”

Ezra’s spirits sank.

Backup? So I don’t even get in on any of the action?

“We’ll need a way to stay in contact,” Bane continued.

“We’ve got you covered there,” Hera assured him.

“One more thing,” Ahsoka cut in, turning her focus to Rain and the bounty hunter, “You’ll all be taking the Ghost. Your ships will have to remain here with the fleet.”

Rain instantly bristled, “I do not remember that being part of the arrangement.”

Before she could press the argument further however, Bane held up a hand, signalling for silence.

“One ship is less noticeable than three. More sensible that way.”

Ezra saw the muscles in Rain’s face tighten, yet she said nothing.

“Good. Anything else we need to know?” Ahsoka asked.

Bane singled out their point of entry, gave a quick overview concerning the general circulation of the guards, and it was decided that they would start off first thing tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.

“Don’t forget,” Bane said sharply, “Once those explosives are set you’ll only have a limited amount of time to get out of there. If you fall behind, don’t expect a rescue.”

“That’s not how we work, Bane,” Ahsoka said, pronouncing the bounty hunter’s name with venom.

Bane removed the cigarette from his mouth, scattering ashes across the holoprojector as he did so.

“Sure. However you feel like training your pack of rabble-rousers is your business, not mine. Either way it’s no loss to me if one of them dies.”

“Anything else?” Ahsoka hissed, her slitted blue eyes burning with rage.

“Yeah,” Bane said, turning his gaze on Ezra and causing the young Jedi’s stomach to drop into his toes, “Don’t do anything stupid.”