Ezra’s P.O.V.

“You weren’t terribly helpful yesterday.”

“What do you mean, pet? As I recall, I was doing all the work.”

“You know what I mean. You blatantly undermined my authority, in front of everyone.”

“Sweetie, haven’t we been over this? I don’t take orders from you.”

“But you’ll take my money readily enough.”

Bane chuckled, “You mean the money you don’t have?”

“I went out of my way to attain your precious credits. I risked my whole operation!” Rain hissed.

“You call it an operation. I call it a joke.”

“Will you give me that horrid thing?”

“I thought the rule was no smoking on your ship. This isn’t your ship, darling.”

“The rule is no smoking whatsoever. It hardly matters to me where or when or why you do it. You’re killing yourself.”

“You only have yourself to blame, doll. You drove me to it.”

“You keep saying that, but I fail to see how. Give it to me!”

“Watch it!”

Ezra stepped around the corner, finally revealing himself to the bickering pair, though they hardly even noticed him. Rain and the bounty hunter were pressed against the rail overlooking the Ghost’s hold, both struggling to get ahold of a pack of cigarettes. Ezra edged closer, leaning casually up against the railing and clearing his throat. The struggle instantly stopped, both pairs of eyes turning in his direction.

“So,” he said mildly, “You two make an odd couple.”

There was a pause. Bane turned away, lighting a cigarette.

“We’re not a couple,” Rain said, snatching the stick right out of his mouth and carelessly flinging it into the hold.

Bane, undeterred, reached for another.

Ezra’s gaze flickered between them, “Riiiiight.” He focused in on Bane, just as the bounty hunter was deprived of another burn. “So you’re not a big fan of rebels I take it?”

“His opinion is imbecilic and quite frankly not worth entertaining,” Rain said icily, grabbing up the pack of smokes in a blink and hurling them over the edge.

Bane straightened, producing a toothpick from one of his pockets and settling for that.

“The little lady is sour because she takes herself too seriously,” the bounty hunter remarked.

“And where did I learn that from?” Rain said, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Bane slowly turned his burning orbs back on her, regarding her coolly.

After a moment’s tension, Rain turned and left. Ezra watched her go, wondering if he should follow her example.

These two are intense…

Nevertheless, he stayed where he was, returning his attention to Cad.

“So?” he pressed.

Cad merely directed a blank stare at Ezra.

Man, who would’ve thought it’d be THIS hard just to try and have a conversation with someone?

“Wait, I get it,” Ezra said, attempting to bait the bounty hunter, “You’re afraid if the rebels win, it’ll mess with your income, right?”

Bane chuckled, resting his weight against the rail.

“You honestly believe your pathetic little band of agitators will take down the Empire? That’s quite the imagination you have. Rain goes so far as to call the skirmishes between your rebels and the Empire a war. She and her precious elite might be on the Emperor’s radar, but your sorry rabble don’t even register. Either way, it makes no difference. Any force as powerful as the Empire will take more than a handful of divided and largely undisciplined factions to destroy it.”

“Then why are you helping any of us?” Ezra asked, genuinely curious, “Why would you risk the Emperor finding you out?”

His thoughts pulled him back to yesterday’s conversation.

“It’s not business,” Rain had said.

“You said a bounty hunter’s greatest weapon was his reputation,” Ezra said, trying to puzzle it out, “You also said that you don’t mix well with the in-crowd. But Rain said you were a celebrity. That doesn’t make sense.”

Bane removed the toothpick from his mouth, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Sharp, kid,” he said, “You’re pretty close. I became infamous for killing your kind, but when the Emperor announced the Jedi as his enemies, a lifetime of work was flipped on a dime and I became a celebrity.”

“So it isn’t business after all,” Ezra concluded.

“You and your fellow troublemakers had better get your act together, kid. Then maybe I’ll consider rooting for you.”

“If this alliance works out, maybe other cells will take notice. This could be the first step to getting ourselves a proper army!” Ezra said excitedly.

“Then you’d better hope this pact goes better than I think it will,” Bane said darkly.

Mira’s P.O.V.

“General.” Mira stepped onto the ramp overtop the cargo bay. “Will you join us on the bridge?”

“It would seem my presence is undesired by a certain member of this crew,” Grievous pointed out.

“I’m sure Kanan will come around,” Mira assured the General, “Once he realizes that you mean no harm. By the way, I never got to thank you for convincing Rain to agree to this plan.”

“I did not do it for you,” Grievous said, keeping his eyes directed at the wall across from him, “I merely wanted to ensure that Rain explores all her options.”

“We don’t have many of those,” Mira reminded him, “Couldn’t you convince her to stay? To continue to help the rebels?”

“I have no interest in persuading Rain to take any action that goes against her preference.”

“But you realize her preference is ridiculous, don’t you?”

Grievous finally turned his golden gaze on her.

“These rebels you idolize have preferences which have also been violated by this agreement. I believed that this alliance would benefit us both, but unless unity can be achieved, it is better that we go our separate ways after this affair is concluded.”

Mira opened her mouth to protest but Rain’s voice cut her off.

“I find it quite interesting that the Jedi always taught us to put the past behind us, yet the Jedi we’ve encountered in this rebel cell have demonstrated no such thing.”

Mira rounded on her sister angrily, “Rain—”

“Will you excuse us? I wish to speak to the General alone.”

Mira was about to push the subject but a thought suddenly struck her.

“Where’s Bane?”

“Conversing with the Jedi youngling.”

“Alone?!” Mira demanded.

Rain regarded her blankly, “Bane doesn’t bite, Mira. You should be aware of that by now.”

Mira bit the inside of her cheek, keeping back the words that were trying to surface.

Why are you always so difficult?!

Instead, she set off back the way she’d come, searching out the bounty hunter and the young Jedi.

Rain’s P.O.V.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Rain waited until her little sister was out of earshot before turning to Grievous.

“She insists that we maintain a permanent alliance with the rebels,” the General explained.

“Of course she does. She’s still pining for the Jedi. The practicality of it all means nothing to her. She’s just as sentimental as this whole pack of fools. Prioritizing personal feelings over a war is a sure way to get oneself killed.” Rain sighed, her expression growing somber. “I genuinely believed we’d be able to get past this. I hoped she’d outgrow it. But it would seem Bane was right. We are both too obstinate for our own good.”

She’s always picked the Jedi over me. I should have expected no less.

“I fear my council was ill-founded,” Grievous admitted.

Rain met his gaze.

“I trust your judgement unwaveringly, General. Nothing would ever change that. Besides,” she added, allowing herself a gentle smile, “If it were not for you, I would have lost my sanity long ago.”

“It was due to your sister’s efforts that I was able to regain my own sanity,” Grievous pointed out, “I believe she means well.”

“Of course she means well,” Rain said, “But she is misguided, as all Jedi are. It’s clear that I will never be able to change that, so instead all I wish is that she’ll be able to derive some small happiness from this alliance. As for me, I will have to settle for being satisfied with the military advantage gained from it.”

It’s obvious that I won’t be able to derive anything else from it, Rain thought bitterly as the hateful faces of Ahsoka and Kanan flashed before her mind’s eye. I wonder if Mira finds solace in people who disapprove of me as she does.

Rain vividly remembered that day on Polis Massa, after the Clone Wars had ended, after everything had come to light, after the weight of knowing the last three years of fighting had been utterly meaningless had fully settled, and Rain was left wondering where on earth she would go from there. She remembered the gnawing worry as she asked her little sister to start over with her.

When she said yes, I was so happy. I foolishly believed that moment was the end of my worries.

But she had been wrong.

Kenobi’s words, which he had imparted to her after she and Mira had informed him of their plan, rang in her head.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine,” Rain had answered.

If only I could trust those words now…

After Grievous had provided them with a hiding place, they had been stuck with only a transport ship supplied by the residents of Polis Massa, dwindling supplies, and no plan for the next course of action. Rain had delayed for as long as she could but as the inevitable had drawn closer, she realized she only had one option.

One of them had to leave. One of them had to take the transport and travel to the closest inhabited planet to restock on fuel, food, to get a proper ship, and to find out what on earth was going on in the rest of the galaxy. It couldn’t be Grievous; he was far too recognizable and ill-equipped for blending in, and there was no way Rain was sending Mira, so that left Rain herself. Due to their limited resources, Rain knew she would have no way of contacting Mira and Grievous once she left, and she’d be leaving them with no shelter.

They would all be horribly exposed and vulnerable.

But we already are. It’s a risk we need to take.

“General,” Rain said somberly, “We both know this trip isn’t going to be enough. I think...I think we need help. We need a source. We need someone on the inside. We can’t rely on raids.”

Raids, after all, were their only option. They had no money and nothing they could trade. But frequent raids would inevitably draw attention, which was the last thing they needed.

“We need quality resources. We need someone to feed us information. We need someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Are you suggesting that I do not, Callyn?” Grievous rasped, “Let me remind you that it was you who requested my leadership.” He leaned down so that they were eye to eye. “Is it now unsatisfactory to you?”

“No, General.”

But I saw the look in your eyes when we arrived here. What you saw, you weren’t expecting. And the longer we stay here, the more I feel like you only thought of this as a temporary solution, not a permanent one. But what we need right now are permanent solutions. So I must challenge your authority.

“I have no wish to replace you, I’m simply suggesting a new addition to the team.”

“And who is this new addition?”

Rain took a deep breath.

“The bounty hunter Cad Bane.”

Grievous regarded her silently for a moment. Rain pursed her lips.

“Do you remember him?”

The General straightened, “I remember him. But perhaps you remember, Callyn, that I have a strong dislike for bounty hunters.” Grievous turned away from her, his cape swishing gently. “They are seldom trustworthy individuals.”

“I know. But we don’t know whose side he’s on. Let me at least try to assess the situation. We can decide where to go from there. I’ll get the supplies first; Mira said she can rig up a better communications system with the right tools, so I’ll be sure to get those. But afterwards, I want to begin my search for Bane.”

“And how do you intend to find him?”

Rain sighed, “That’s going to be the hard part. I was hoping I’d be able to draw him out of the woodwork by hunting down some of his colleagues and spreading the word that I’m looking to hire him.”

Grievous turned slowly to face her again.

“Very well,” he said, “I will allow it.”

Mira, however, wasn’t half so understanding.

“Rain, this is ridiculous! Bane?! He’s even worse than Grievous! You can’t honestly believe he’d help us! This is a bad idea. You have to see that. This whole thing was a bad idea. We should go back to Polis Mass—”

“This whole thing?” Rain echoed, feeling stung.

Mira blinked, “That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant. But these are bad people, Rain. Grievous, Bane, they’ve influenced you for the worse. They’re murderers, Rain. They killed Jedi for sport.”

“Are Jedi the only lives that matter?” Rain demanded, her voice trembling.

“You’re twisting my words, Rain!” Mira snapped, “I didn’t say that!”

“Not everything is going to make sense when viewed through a dogmatic code, Mira!” Rain shouted, “And people aren’t always two-dimensional, or black and white! The Jedi are murderers in their own right.”

“Rain—”

“Don’t try to deny it!” Rain took a deep breath to calm herself. “Just tell me honestly.” Rain looked directly into her sister’s face, searching. “Do you regret agreeing to this? Do you regret leaving the Jedi for me?”

“That’s not fair,” Mira insisted, “That’s not fair, Rain!”

That was all Rain needed to hear.

“That’s not fair!”

Ever since that moment, Mira had used those words often.

What’s fair? Does anyone truly know the answer to that question? As Bane loves to say, “Life isn’t fair, sweetie. I suggest you get over it.”

An image of a dark-haired woman flashed in her mind.

Get over it. She’s never coming back.

Rain’s gaze lifted, settling on Grievous once more.

“I pray that this mission goes smoothly.”

“There is something else bothering you,” the General observed.

As always, he was right.

“The younglings...they shouldn’t be involved in this. But the Jedi never did care for the welfare of children.”

No child should ever have to witness war.

But it wasn’t Ezra or Sabine that her thoughts turned to in that moment.

Coruscant is just about the safest place you can be, from a certain point of view. She’ll be fine there.

Rain took a shaky breath.

She’ll be fine...

Mira’s P.O.V.

“So Sabine tells me you make all your own tech. I’m not so bad myself in that respect.”

Mira turned the corner to find Ezra sidling up to Bane, patting the modified lightsaber on his hip with a self-satisfied smile. The bounty hunter seemed almost entirely uninterested.

Poor Ezra, Mira thought, He seems very bright and eager for recognition, but he’s looking for it from the wrong people.

“Excuse me,” Mira said, forcing a smile, “Not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Ezra said easily, “We were just talking about our uncanny inventive skills.”

“I see. Would you mind if I shared a private word with Bane, Ezra?”

“Oh, no problem,” the youngling replied, pushing away from the rail and swaggering off.

Mira couldn’t help but feel amused at the boy’s overconfident front.

He has a lot to learn, but luckily he seems to have a good teacher.

After Ezra had disappeared from view, Bane spoke up, “I’d say I’m pleasantly surprised to hear you want to talk to me, Mira, but clearly that wasn’t your plan. What, afraid I was going to kill the boy? I’ll admit it was tempting.”

Bane reached into the cuff of his sleeve, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. He casually placed one in his mouth and lit it, flicking away the toothpick he had previously been chewing on and leaning back against the rail. Mira watched him with an icy expression.

Even if he never spoke, even if he never moved, I’d still feel furious just looking at him.

She turned her head to the side.

“Ezra reminds me a little of Rain,” she remarked, “Before you corrupted her.”

Bane chuckled, leaning forward just enough to let the brim of his hat cover his eyes.

“Of course you’d get some twisted sense of pleasure out of that,” Mira spat, “You disgusting sleemo. I’m sure you’re so proud of yourself for turning Rain into what she is today: a cold, empty shell of herself.”

There was a pause. Bane exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“I think we both know I’m not the one responsible for that,” he said quietly.

For a moment, Mira didn’t know what to say.

Bane continued, “How long has it been?”

Mira considered the question.

“Almost three years,” she replied, “And Rain hasn’t mentioned it once.”

“Impressive what one woman can accomplish in—what was it? Five years? I should’ve killed the snake the first chance I got.”

Bane drew hard on his cigarette.

“Rain would never have forgiven you.”

“She wouldn’t have known a thing.”

Bane tapped his burn, scattering ashes on the floor.

“Rain loved Trish...that’s why you hate her, isn’t it? Because Rain chose her over you.”

Bane uttered not a word, but Mira could see the muscles in his face tightening.

Rain was never anything more than a toy to you. You couldn’t stand the fact that she’d rebel against you.

“You had no love to waste on the woman either if I’ll recall,” Bane pointed out.

Mira couldn’t deny it.

She was a bounty hunter after all. Killing was in her nature, to a degree.

Admittedly Mira had held high hopes for the new addition to their team at first, but as time passed, their disagreements seemed to multiply.

And those odd comments she made from time to time. It was like she...didn’t want me around.

“Well, she wasn’t all that bad,” Mira said stubbornly, “After all, she did manage to get rid of you for a while.”

Bane scoffed, “You give her too much credit.”

Someone cleared their throat, cutting through the tense atmosphere. Mira turned to see Kanan.

“We’re coming on Stygeon Prime,” he announced.

Mira drew a deep breath.

I pray this goes well.