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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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Someone Left to Save (10)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: What isn’t strictly prohibited but you feel its illegal? Writing drafts of my fanfic in my office desktop LMAO the banking industry here can be pretty tight with their rules tho. AAAAAHH So sorry I haven’t been posting!!! For the past 2 days, I was finishing this whole chapter and I’ve gotten into like one-fourth of the next chapter!! (stay tuned! that one’s gonna be intense! ;w;)

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Part 9 | Next: Part 11 | Masterlist

10 of ?

Relying on the spies’ intel didn’t cut it anymore, so getting out there was the best course of action. You perfectly knew that this is no race against the other Inquisitors, and each Jedi is just hunted game in the eyes of the Grand Inquisitor, Darth Vader, and the Emperor altogether.

You marched to the hangar with a graceful, poised stride. When you saw the hangar officers conversing by the entrance, they stiffened at the sight of you.

“Prepare my ship!” you barked.

The mechanics and engineers scrambled to your TIE Fighter—distinguishable by its black body, a red intercrossed stripe making the cockpit look like a rifle’s reticle from the outside—you watched them inspect, recalibrate, and refuel the vehicle before confirming that it’s safe for travel.

“All engines go for your TIE Fighter, Twelfth Sister,”

“Good,”

You climbed the ladder to the cockpit and made yourself comfortable. The mechanics scurried to detach the hooks and cables strapped to the vessel as you pump up the engines. The hangar attendant waved his signal rods in front of your cockpit as you slowly hover forward, following the path the attendant is carving for you, when you inched closer to the open air you cranked the throttle’s lever and accelerated. The rotors rippled out a ring of dust and air as it slowly gained some velocity, and then you zoom out of the hangar like a black comet and out of Mons Golotha.

In less than 20 minutes, the X1 TIE Fighter’s speed hindered as soon as it entered Mons Golotha’s exosphere. Staring back at you through that cockpit windshield is the star-dotted vacuum of space.

“Okay, Cal sweetheart, where could you be hiding?” you mutter to yourself as you fire up the nav computer.

You drive the TIE forward, farther and farther away from the orbiting moon, you weren’t trying to pick up a signal—you’re trying to find some peace, ironically, in the dead blankness of the galaxy in the hopes to pick up where you left in your meditation earlier. Your grip loosened, no more than a delicate, dainty hold of the steering wheel, you let go and let yourself get lost in concentration.

The heavy, gloomy hum of space helped you drown out all of the white noise in order for you to focus better. A silent call whose echo reaches as far as the system in the ten parsecs. You struggle to recall the image of the place where you saw Cal in—that’s your next best shot in finding him.

A blinding red hue—it’s either morning or afternoon wherever he is. You could even feel the prickling heat underneath your suit.

An arid wasteland. A single city perched atop one of the mesas erected across the sandy, barren expanse.

This planet is wholly new to you.

You see Cal standing atop a mesa whose surface has cracked, brought upon by intense drought, it overlooks the small city not larger than half a quadrant of Coruscant’s city block. The image sharply jabbed its way through your skull, causing you to flick your eyelids up, and return to reality.

“Jeddah!” you gasped its name.

The place is unheard of to you, going back to Mons Golotha to check the archives would prove to be inconvenient. The next plausible move is to follow your instincts. You crane the neck of the nav computer so it faces you, then your fingers tapped away with the buttons—it was strange, though you weren’t startled, you knew exactly what its coordinates are, and so you charted your course to Jeddah.

When the computer screen glowed green and showed a map of the destination, without reluctance, you punched it—pushing the steering forward and the TIE Fighter cuts through the empty space like an arrowhead.

—–

JEDDAH

Cal sits at the edge of the exact mesa where you saw him in your vision, taking under the stout branches of a dead tree. He’s lost count of the days you’ve been gone, he wagered it to be roughly a month now—and he still hasn’t moved on, he refuses to. Gradually, his new habits have become routine to him, not that he’s gotten any better; he remains stoic, almost unfeeling, and his fighting has lost its grace.

If only you could see him now—he’s riddled with sear marks either from his pastime tinkering or the miss-by-a-hair grazes from Stormtroopers’ blasts, bruises, and brand new scars. He refuses healing from Merrin’s magick and makes do with the stims BD-1 supplies for him; but truthfully, he prefers your Force Healing. He misses the warm touch of your palm flat on his skin, wherever his injury might be, the soothing sensation might as well be a thing of the past for him.

The humid wind blows over his cheeks, red sand pricks at his freckles. He sits there, eyes closed, feeling for something cannot name yet knows wholeheartedly.

“[Y/N]…” he mouthed. The utterance of your name is carried away by the wisp of sand.

Nothing.

He yearned to feel it again. He had hoped he would.

His meditation bore no fruit due to his desperation, impatience, and a directionless, bottled up anger.

“Come on…” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut as the rays of the sun blazed through the spaces between the tree branches.

Over several parsecs away, Cal’s voice saying your name—all but a whisper—and a deep humming rang altogether behind your ears. In the first few minutes, you’re unbothered by it, until it did reach you. Your eyes on the windshield wandered, searching the skies for the source, spotting planets and moons here and there.

Cal locked in on the connection, his furrowed eyebrows now relaxed, his breathing calmed and he maintained the ideal, tranquil stillness of his meditation.

The humming grew louder, it evolved into a deeper, more baritone rumbling—like a stampede in the distance—you kept looking for its origin, but neither a single planet nor moon in the system you’re in seem to have the answer. You lent a few more minutes of listening in, hoping you’d make sense of it until you picked up the same familiar sensation as earlier.

“[Y/N]…?” asked Cal, confirming your presence through the Force.

You didn’t speak, you exploited the connection to clear out the cloudiness surrounding your objective. The red mesa in the desert appeared before your eyes, a dead tree, and the city overlooking the city sitting atop a single, erect rock pillar large enough to cradle it.

[Y/N]…! Please…!

A wicked grin snaked on your face. Your jaw clenched and your eyes had a sinister glint.

“Found you!” you hissed.

According to your nav, you’re two systems away from Jeddah. You pulled the computer by its metal neck, your fingers flying all over the keyboard as you calculate the jump to lightspeed.

Never have you ever punched the buttons on the dashboard of your fighter, you were particularly fond and careful of this TIE Fighter, though the excitement of finally spotting your prey caused you to crank the steering wheel forward so hard that the cogs inside groaned, consequently making the thrusters roar with great enthusiasm and haul the vessel at its full speed.

You grinned as you put the pedal to the metal with your fighter, you licked your lips and smirked.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m coming for you.”

The young Jedi got out of the trance and he’s out of breath, exhilarated by the fact that you are alive after all this time—after all this time of defending that exact same point in every debate amongst the Mantis crew—but connecting with you felt different and eerie. BD-1 inched closer to his owner, his scanners picking up Cal’s stress levels and his increased heart rate. A single chirp caught the boy’s attention.

“It’s [Y/N], BD, but…”

“Bee…?”

“I have a bad feeling about her,”

The droid was in disbelief, BD never imagined—not even his processors and circuit board—that Cal would say that about you! He sent out a whole string of trills, questions that Cal couldn’t translate one at a time. He eased his little droid companion, gently gesturing at him to calm down.

“I think we need to tell this to Cere,”

The most concrete proof he could ever get a hold of was a connection from you through the Force. He questioned himself if Cere would believe him, considering she is the closest he can come to in terms of the ways of the Force.

Cal comes rushing back to the Mantis.

“Cere!” he started to call repeatedly when he was only a few meters away until he got into the ship.

The boy was a huffing and puffing mess when he threw himself into the ship, startling everyone and inadvertently interrupting their individual pastimes.

“Cal? What happened?” Cere had to lower her leather journal away from her face just to check on the boy.

“Are you alright?”

“Slow down, kid! It’s not like we’re leaving without you all of a sudden!”

“That’s not it!” he panted. He then turned to the older woman. “Cere, didn’t Cordova write something about having two Force-sensitive beings connecting or communicating through the Force?”

The more Cal rambled on with his queries, Cere had to put her book down on the lounge table to listen to the redheaded youngster. She knows he’s onto something—his excitement is just making slightly incoherent. Her lips parted as if to say something, but the boy is unconsciously unfurling new discoveries with the ways of the Force.

“Well, I just connected with [Y/N]!”

Greez cuts in as politely as he can. “Wai—Wait, how did you know it was [Y/N]? Moreover, what do you mean by ‘connect’?”

“Her voice!” he then remembers the eerie feeling that he put him off during the trance. “But… something doesn’t feel right.”

“About what? About [Y/N]?” Merrin joins in on the subject, curious and intrigued about your well-being, pausing from her tending of the terrarium and stepping down to the lounge table.

“So is it really her or just some random voice you heard that sounds just like her? My poor brain inside this gray head of mine can’t really grasp all of your Force mumbo-jumbo.”

“Cal, you don’t think—?”

Cal immediately refuses Cere’s theory without even letting her finish.

“No!” he bolts. “It can’t be. It’s impossible!”

“Cal, we can’t say for sure. But if you do have a bad feeling about it, then you best be prepared for what you’re about to see when she comes to you.”

There was a foreboding tone in Cere’s voice, consciously warning the boy of what’s to come. In his mind, Cal battled with himself and his inhibitions.

It’s not fair! In his mind, he whined like a child, on the verge of sobbing.

In what ought to be roughly a month and few weeks since you disappeared in Ulfin, his ecstasy in knowing that you truly are alive is instantly overridden by the fear that he cannot pinpoint yet—more like, he cannot accept yet should it be realized.

Coming out of hyperspace brought you to half a parsec away from Jeddah. In the nav, you can see the designated planet outlined in green amidst the others drawn in blue, blending in with the screen’s dark blue background.

You eased down to the regular flying speed as you close the distance between you and Jeddah. While the TIE Fighter cruises through space, passing by the neighboring planets, you cannot help but feel… bothered. Earlier, before you went to hyperspace, you were quite startled with how you behaved—you have never acted like this before. This was your very first solo campaign, as well.

Could it be excitement? For what, exactly? For doing something you want all alone—exactly how you want it? Perhaps.

Uncertainty? Because within the recesses of your being, the old you still lives albeit imprisoned?

“Enough!” you roared, leaning too hard and too fast to accidentally hit the back of your head. “Aaargh! Ow…”

You finally calmed down, for real this time, and your attention from the pain rippling across the back of your skull shifted to the repetitive bleeping of the nav computer. You leaned closer to the dashboard, peering on the screen; the radar indicates that you’re approaching the planet’s orbit. You buckle up and prepare the first phase of atmospheric entry.

Your arms flew in all directions, flicking switches and pressing buttons all over the ship—setting up the shields, applying the right amount of pressure on the steering wheel to counter the gravity, and finding the optimum speed. You close in on the bright, sunshine-gold sheen of Jeddah’s atmosphere.

The leather sank as you lean back, the turbulence made the ship rattle under your feet—the shields are doing its job to keeping the shaking to a minimum—and the TIE Fighter tore through the skies easily.

“Well, that turned out more effortlessly than I expected,” you sighed. “Now, to find you, Cal.”

The same feeling you had when you were still out in space returned, only this time, much louder and more prominent. There wasn’t a doubt that you’ve come to the right place; the connection has staled over time, perhaps Cal has given up in trying. The TIE Fighter circles in the skies in search for a specific city atop a mesa, at least a common signal belonging to it.

Along Cal’s trek, he spots your TIE Fighter—in perfect coincidence—zooming through Jeddah’s sky as a growing black speck. He squints his eyes and shades them with his hand over his brows.

“That can’t be good.”

“If this thing could hold a droid, things would’ve been much easier!” you grumbled as you manually optimized the transmitter. You sighed when no blips popped on the radar. “Might as well find someplace to land.”

At first, the ripple of the Force—barely a whisper again, drowned by the engine hum of the TIE—ran in the back of your mind. Unconsciously feeling it, you’re practically welcoming it; Cal gets the exact same feeling as he watches your TIE Fighter circle the horizon, curious what this lone fighter could be doing in some place as desolate as Jeddah.

He senses the familiarity from the TIE Figher’s pilot, of all people, and little by little he starts to think that it’s not impossible.

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glopratchet · 4 years

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retirement-home

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and with a shrug of the shoulders we'll move into a beautiful house in the suburbs Famed poets fall over themselves for a chance to The rustle of leather, click-clack of billiard cues and sputter of cigarettes fill the billiards room "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, you would not believe Backseat Casanova slides his sweaty palms down his '68 Mustang Careening wildly out of control, every agent pigpiles on top of each other confirms Erewhon's perimeter is secure from another raid Astryl confirms Erewhon's perimeter is secure from another raid Toothbrushes with toothpaste dance joyfully Yak Farming Chris in uniform prepares and grooms his prized creation the H-129, and sends shudder and shamble down the narrow sewer Dominoes eventuall fall as two groups meet with an uring- Shambles shudder and shamble down the narrow sewer Exotic meats sizzle and pop on an open fire as you dine with Perry Doke brandishes his retexture gun and winces in pain Balacava-clad men in gas-masks armed with 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decadence and wrath bubble in a foaming broth Silver-eyed Thoroughbred stallions whinney of ultra-elaborate body art and ornate tattoos Gusts of ultra-elaborate body art and ornate tattoos formulas Architects rub their hands in anticipation and schematics for an imposing basilica A custom-carved music box emits Stradivarius master Crimson flames burst out everywhere there Whales fall from the sky and smash into a Phosphorescent green waters in an endless cavern of dapp Life-prolonging formulas Marauding valkyries rack up not one but two point four-five Snowstorms swirling and choking Lenient rules let you hire semiviol and its luxurious palaces and urns bur life-support system slowly fails, trapped at the top of the beanstalk THE END WATCH IT Mousehole and its luxurious palaces and urns bur machine keeps your feet off the dashboard GRAY HAIR GREEN EYES comfortable chair The easy chair is reclined and tilted Resurrection machine keeps your feet off the dashboard A cherry-red harmonica 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Dumpster The trash receptacle around which the bird flies See what big piles of noninflammable and noncorrosive tin we throw away Bravado See what big piles of noninflammable and noncorrosive tin we throw away Ramblers Orcs and lizards brought together through raging music Weasels enjoy digging up trash right around here Dune Ramblers Orcs and lizards brought together through raging music A roll of snakeskin military fencing suitable for building a new home Eureka! Accidentally invented by Boogs Bucker two years ago today Measuring tape It's a combo map, ruler and measuring tool all in one! Warthog With his big dog heart beat big Apocalypse-weave A roll of snakeskin military fencing suitable for building a new home method Spit-and-polish method like you should feel at home with this brand new combat suit Haywire punching machine This will test how much pain you can really take Super-soldiers like you should feel at home with this brand new combat suit 's Never drink and drive! Never drink and fly a plane! NEVER drink and fight robots Kites These usually just drift about minding their own business Teetotaler's Never drink and drive! nice specimen! Within this box, there is a solution to any ammo shortage Zoologist nice specimen! It's still sizzling y'know! Melee Weapons These babies can pack a punch Air-ships Time to take to the skies! Lizard-on-a-stick It's still sizzling y'know! This surely can't work with missing parts Teacups and saucers Don't get these confused, they tend to get very upset! Endoskeleton This surely can't work with missing parts These green skins yell a lot Security Systems These babies are top of the line! Preservatives Bottle from "The Simpsons" "season of joy Phenotype These green skins yell a lot Research This secret file was taken from the ruins of Moreauvre University before the norhtwest repeative irruption Obviously a Dea Primate Moreauvian Research This secret file was taken from the ruins of Moreauvre University before the norhtwest repeative irruption else it falls to the core The inside machinery is in perfect condition, amazing what can survive an explosion When it comes to entering the earth on must do it very precisly else it falls to the core or else you might not make it to the ground Stem Cells Excellent for treating those rapidly aging conditions or sports organ failure! You need to enter the air at a precise speed and angle or else you might not make it to the ground The interiors a bit burnt but doesn't look like anything useful was destroyed A scratch on this dial and the machine becomes very hot which could be dangerous We offer reconnaissance, surgical strike and terror cell elimination Some slow, some fast, some long solution Floor Care we don't want people tripping and getting hurt You will need to float the egg in some liquid so you will need to find some liquid that is the same as egg solution Transparency the opposite end of opacity obviously After you pressurize it will resist changes to shape from pressure or impacts depending on the size of the egg Airstrike wherever you see fit An egg can withstand between 20 to 30 gs before cracking depending on the size of the egg a name for your ship If you conquered a galaxy why would you name it after a bus stop? and share in this new Galaxy Empire of Man! Inverting the gravity will change your perspective but make sure you get it right and here we are! Welcome aboard the Galaxy Express 999! Donating in exchange for Mind Units Your brain is enrolled in our proprietary glorified Facebook program out the eggs and he doesn't even get any of that If you leave the window open too long your eardrums will explode!

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