#star wars jedi survivor spoilers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jinmukangwrites · 11 months

Text

Weep Little Lion Man (1.5/14)

First - Previous - Next Fandom: Jedi: Survivor/Fallen Order Rating: T Warnings: minor wounds, angst Notes: this fic will primarily be in Bode or Cal's POV, I just felt that some insight on what the rest of the Mantis Crew is up to is needed. There's some things that I think definitely change from canon with Bode's betrayal happening early. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Ao3

Summary: After defeating Dagan Gera for a third and final time, the Compass ends up in Bode's hands without a scratch. He could go back to Jedha with Cal... but he's holding what he wants. He doesn't see the point in pretending any longer. He makes a split-second decision. Or: Bode's betrayal goes a bit differently. ~~~•~~~ "Friendly Fire" for Bad Things Happen Bingo!

-o-o-o-o-

Merrin never paces.

But, if she did, she's sure there would be a hole worn into the floor of the Stinger Mantis.

However, she instead sits quietly near the holo-table, glaring at the planet placed neatly at the center; their current destination.

Jedha.

It all feels like a blur; BD-1 rushing back into the saloon alone ranting in barely understandable binary about... about Dagan's death. Bode's betrayal. Cal's capture. The message to imperial forces with coordinates to the Archive. She almost didn't believe it, not until BD-1 showed them a hastily recorded hologram of the events.

She can hardly remember the argument that happened immediately after between her, Greeze, and Bd-1. Clearly, something had to happen, and the more they argued the more the rift between what they want to do, and what they have to do, became too gaping and too wide to ignore.

Leave Cere to defend and evacuate the Archive without them to attempt to rescue Cal when, first of all: they didn't know for sure where Bode has taken him, and second of all: even if Bode has left towards Tanalor, he took the only way to get there with him, and for all they knew Cal could be completely, utterly, currently out of reach.

Or, they could abandon Cal and rush to Jedha hopefully before the Empire closes in on them to help evacuate.

"Cal would want us to help Cere," Greeze had said, defeated in his tone, posture, soul.

BD-1's angry flurry of beeps and the stomping of his feet made it very obvious what he thought of that statement. "That's exactly right, and that mindset might kill him this time."

Ultimately, it was decided there's... nothing they can do for Cal yet.

It felt like fire in her veins. This helplessness.

So she did the only thing she could do, focus on the task ahead. She made communications with Cere and warned her of the situation. If Cere felt troubled over Cal's abduction, the loss of the Compass, Bode, she didn't let it waver her voice as she said she may need their help completing evacuations. It truly didn't waver in her voice, but Merrin has known Cere long enough to recognize her perfectly disguised worry and remorse better than nearly anyone.

Yes, Cal would want them to help Cere instead of him, but Cere deeply would wish the opposite and she cannot bring herself to say such things in an emergency such as this.

So here Merrin is, sitting, glaring a hole into the center of the holographic Jedha.

They can only hope they get there on time, because if the Empire arrives first and they lose... not only will Merrin never forgive herself, but she knows Cal would never forgive himself either once they do get him back.

Because they will get him back. If there was one thing BD-1 could confirm, it was that Bode wouldn't kill Cal. For whatever reason, he wants Cal alive.

For now.

Her fists clench; once Cere and the acolytes are safely relocated, Merrin will make sure Bode regrets even laying his eyes on Cal in the first place.

-o-o-o-o-

The Archive has never been so busy. Acolytes of all races, sizes, ages, genders, rush the halls gathering books, papers, data-pads. Some focus on gathering personal items, others supplies, but the focus is in the Archive. The Empire could never destroy hope, but they certainly could destroy information. Ancient Jedi teachings litter these halls, teachings the Emperor would see burned. Cere couldn't let that happen. She cannot let them have that victory.

She stands in the main archive room, bent over a desk helping gather various instruments that Cordova uses for his endless research to keep herself busy enough to keep from looking up at the blinking blue lights of the past, of knowledge, and feeling despair over how long this is taking. Who knew years of collecting would take more than a few minutes to relocate.

It takes more focus than what she's willing to acknowledge to not let her hands shake. There's a pit in her stomach, one she cannot quite fill with being busy. One she cannot brush off or ignore.

But she must.

So she works, packing, instructing, leading. These people are counting on her, and if she allows herself to slip now, there's no telling what the consequences will be.

Or well, she can make a guess on what one of the consequences will be. There's tension in the Force, and there has been since the moment Merrin had told her the Inquisitorius had been alerted to this location. There's something dark lurking, something stomach-churningly familiar.

She almost welcomes it. Almost wishes he would arrive quicker, that way she could work out her frustrations.

She shakes her head. Thoughts like that won't help anyone... let alone...

"Cere," a voice says, one that carries decades of wisdom, understanding, light. A voice she's known well and has looked up to for nearly her entire life. She glances up from her gathering and pauses, Master Cordova stands beside her, his eyes filled with concern. "It's okay to worry about him."

Trust Cordova to know Cere too well.

Cere shakes her head again, returning to her work. "I have to remain strong," she says, "Force willing, it will all work out in the end."

"Yes," Cordova agrees softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But he is your apprentice. I know you care for him as I care for you."

Curse him, Cere thinks, blinking heavily. Curse him. She's not sure who those thoughts are meant for.

"Cere, please look at me."

She takes a deep breath, feeling like a child, looking up at the same man but with more hair, less wrinkles, the same wisdom and purity that it's intimidating.

Warmth swims through the air around him, silky and comforting and tugging on her emotions. He smiles softly at her, eyebrows pinched. "I know what happened to Trilla has never left you," he says, and that child within her wants to cringe away and hide. "I know it still haunts you, and I know you're terrified of the same happening to Cal."

"Vader isn't after him," she says tightly. "It's the archive he wants, we should continue-"

"Let me finish."

Her lips press together.

"You're afraid that the others coming to help you will doom him," he says, "that if the worst happens, then it will be your fault."

The pit in her stomach turns into a sharp, stabbing agony, like a lightsaber driven through her gut. Her words waver for the first time, choking at her throat. "What if I've failed him?"

She feels just like the ruins around them, composure finally crumbling under the weight of wind, sand, time. It feels like shattering; a vase she's worked hard to repair with lines of gold only to see it destroyed once again in front of her very eyes.

"You have never failed him," Cordova says, "he is the man he is today because of you."

She clenches her hands, fighting off trembles. "Is that a good thing?" She whispers. "His warrior attitude, his bold-headed arrogance to go head first into every battle? Help every person? Sacrifice himself in the process? Sometimes I wonder if finding him on Bracca ripped him away from old age."

"From what I understand, if you hadn't come for him, he'd be in the hands of the Inquisitorius."

"Trilla was who found him," she whispers.

He tightens his hand on her shoulder. Not painfully, but firmly. "Then some other Inquisitor would have found him. The Empire would have come for him whether or not Trilla was one of them. You pulled him out of there, gave him purpose again. You had him follow in my footsteps, and he reconnected with the Force and gained a greater understanding of himself and forgive himself for what happened to his Master. You gave him a life worth living."

Her lips tremble for just a moment. "He thinks his life is only worth living if he's a weapon in use."

"I don't believe that's entirely your doing," he says.

That, Cere could almost agree with. The phrase hold the line leaves Cal's lips far too often with far too much meaning to be something he coined himself. However, she's never succeeded in convincing him out of it. She's positive that Jaro Tapal never meant to make that his life's motto, never meant to make him feel he's a one-man army, and if he's not fighting the Empire then he's betraying his Master's legacy. Cere is sure that if Master Tapal still lived and saw Cal as he is now he'd be furious. No one ever realizes the words they speak with dying breaths hold more weight than if you were to condense the entire Galaxy to fit within the palm of your hand.

Her next breath quivers. "I need him to be okay."

"He will be," Cordova assures. "He's your boy, he's strong like you. Just how you will always be my little girl, and that I know you are strong like me. It's good to feel that fear for family, but you cannot let it control your actions from here. Do not suppress it, accept it, channel it into helping these people around us, evacuating the archive and saving what little history we guard. Once we are safe, then we can get him safe. You cannot let this shake your value for your own life and what we do here. We both know what's coming and what hangs in the balance in these next few days."

Morbid silence settles between them. Cere closes her eyes and lets her worry for Cal wash over her, pass through her. She takes a moment longer to still her heart. Her hands finally feel steady.

"Cere," Cordova continues suddenly, his voice a touch grimmer than before. "If he comes, I need you to run. We cannot face him, and you know that."

She tears her eyes from him, then looks at the room around her. Suddenly, the evacuation no longer seems so daunting.

"Very well," she says. And she means it.

-o-o-o-o-

The Mantis arrives just as the Empire does. Most of the Archive had already been evacuated before the alarms even sounded.

However, it's still chaotic. There are plenty of Anchorites determined to grab anything left behind, fighting for it if they must, Sister Taske being a major unwavering force in this mentality. Cere and Cordova had already given their best shots at convincing the stragglers to leave, but as the Mantis lowers into the hanger and explosions rumble outside, Cere now knows she's no longer responsible for a single person here. They've chosen their paths, and she must choose hers.

"Cere! Are we ready to go?!" Greeze is shouting the second the ramp lowers, Merrin at his side with a dark look over her face.

"Keep the engine running," Cere replies, "go back to the controls. I cannot leave without the Hidden Path's contact codes."

"I'll go with you," Merrin says, but Cere shakes her head. She can feel him, like an emerging migraine.

"No, Merrin, I need you to stay here and protect the Mantis."

She pauses. Then turns. "BD, go with her."

It's strange seeing BD-1 run down the ramp without his other half. Something clogs in her throat and her eyes travel up towards Cordova's—who's already entering the Mantis. His eyes meet her's, and that's all she needs to hear. She'd better come back. For him. For herself. For the Stinger Mantis. For the Archive.

For Cal.

She nods, then turns to begin walking away. "We won't be long."

-o-o-o-o-

When she sent BD-1 away, she fully intended to adhere to Cordova's gentle command. Come back.

However, he came sooner than what she expected. She knows she cannot run now, he will easily chase them all down.

So she does what she must.

Darth Vader fights like an unstoppable force, and she knows immediately that she's no match for him. He's toying with her. Playing with his food. This, she thinks bitterly, must be fun for him. She must be the first Jedi to put up a decent fight for him in years.

She uses that against him, fighting back with all she's got and doing her best to surprise him when she can. She never lands a hit, but she's not expecting to. She just needs a window, a moment, for him to corner himself for a heartbeat... and then it happens.

She grabs the flaming shelves above him with the Force and slams it down on top of him.

Then, she doesn't waste a moment checking to see if she's done any damage to him. Her heels turn, her torso and head follow, and she runs.

-o-o-o-o-

Cere bursts into the Mantis looking like a Gorgara out of hell. Merrin is on her feet immediately, even as Cere brushes past her and screams at Greeze to get them out of here.

The Mantis is rising before the ramp can even close. She finds herself looking out into the temple, and her eyes fall on an approaching form, black as night, cape and robes singed with fire, still glowing.

Merrin has never faced this man, but she's heard the stories.

He reaches out a single hand, and the Mantis jolts, thrusters running but not going anywhere. BD boops frightfully as the walls begin to creak, the air thickening like she's drowning. Choking.

You're not escaping this time.

She feels the pressure around them, holding the ship in place, and she pushes herself through it, grabbing onto the wall for support as she looks out through the open ramp and finds a suitable chunk of ceiling above their attacker.

Green flames burst from her hands, hitting the ceiling in loud booms. The pressure on the ship suddenly vanishes as Darth Vader is forced to release his grasp and retreat out of the way of the falling ceiling. By the time the dust settles, the Mantis has already risen up past the hanger, into the open, dust painted sky.

The ramp closes, and Merrin lets out a ragged breath.

Silence settles around the inhabitants of the Mantis. The sky outside brightens into a sliver of white until endless black speckled with seemingly more endless stars welcome them.

Greeze is the first to speak. "Somebody has to do something about that guy."

The tension melts.

Cere releases a sigh and sits down, looking equal parts exhausted and high on adrenaline.

"So, captain," she says, voice teetering between composed and breathless. "Where to next?"

Greeze's hands still on the controls. He swallows. "We don't know," he finally says, honestly. "That traitor left Koboh, but according to BD-1's scans, he didn't leave in the direction of Tanalor. BD has been trying to track Cal's location through a locator Cal should have on him. It was paired with a matching tracker that he gave Bode, but BD thinks he can hack the signal given time."

"What about a tracking fob?" Merrin asks, and all eyes turn to her. "Cal has a bounty, we can use a fob to track him, bode could have removed the locator."

"Bounty hunting guilds handing out those fobs will know who we are," Cere interjects. "It will not be easy to get our hands on one."

Greeze snaps a finger. "Caij!"

Cere startles. "What?"

"She's a frequent at the saloon. She used to be a bounty hunter I think, but she's been working with Cal to get the drop on Haxion Brood bounty hunters. He gives her his fobs, and she trains him or something."

"Will fobs track on Tanalor?" Cordova suddenly asks, startling everyone out of the previously three-way conversation. Merrin almost can't help but stare at him as he paces the Mantis. If she's honest, seeing him here on the ship feels off; like a living legend standing in a place too below them to stand. It's stranger than when she had first met him on Jedha, and she cannot figure out why. His eyes are full of curiosity at the surroundings, but his tone is patient and to-the-point with the conversation. His hands brush against various items on various countertops, as if he's trying to sense the memories here's although Cal's the only one who can do that.

BD-1 makes a few strings of beeps and boops, and Cordova nods. "I see. Cal has only said communications wouldn't work, not anything else. Besides, the technology of Dagan Gera's time are quite ancient in comparison to our own, perhaps our newer technology would withstand better."

"I think it's worth a shot," Cere says. "BD-1 will attempt to track him through his locator, and once we arrive at Koboh we will request a fob from this Caij. It's good to have fallbacks."

"To Koboh it is!" Greeze says, hands flying to the controls. "Good thing too, whatever that Darth Vader guy did to grab us it did some damage to the exterior of the Mantis. It'll need patching up before we try to go anywhere else."

Cere smiles. "Sounds like a decent plan to me. Besides, it's about time you tour me the Saloon."

Greeze smiles back at her, but... it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "It is. I just... imagined it happening under different circumstances. I'm sorry about Jedha. And..."

The I wish Cal was here goes unsaid, but everyone hears it anyways.

Cere shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I should have visited the moment you established it. The circumstances don't matter, it's important to you, I'm excited to see it regardless."

Greeze chuckles. "It's good to have you back, Cere."

"It's good to be back," she replies, sincerity lacing every word.

While the Mantis enters hyperdrive, the occupants eventually separate to do their own things. Cere sits down with Cordova to tell old stories of the Mantis in it's hay-day while Greeze flies the occasionally-rattling-Mantis through mesmerizing streaks of light. BD-1 sits persistently at the holo-table, his scomp hooked into the system as he searches for Cal. And Merrin... a deep exhaustion pulls at her bones. She excuses herself quietly and finds herself walking into the engine room. Everything is exactly how Cal left it; the cot untouched, various tools scattered on the work-table at the back. She breathes in, and she can smell faint traces of him. It tugs on her heart.

She will get him back. There's no doubt about it.

However, it doesn't stop her from sitting down on his cot, grabbing his makeshift pillow and burying her face into it. She will get him back, but it doesn't stop her from wishing he was here in the first place and didn't need rescuing.

She hopes he's alright. Fed. Wounds tended. He better be in pristine condition by the time she has him back, because if he isn't, she will make sure Bode suffers ten times Cal does. No, one-hundred times.

However, maybe even that would be going easy on Bode.

She will make him regret taking Cal, and then she will make him regret being alive.

#jedi survivor #star wars jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order #cal kestis #merrin #cere junda #bode akuna #jedi survivor spoilers #star wars jedi survivor spoilers #sw jedi survivor #sw jedi fallen order #star wars #fanfiction #jin writes

20 notes · View notes