A/N: *taps mic* Is this thing on? Hello? I guess I've got an update. After a year. Sorry about that. Sometimes the brain doesn't brain. But here we are. And I think I'm gonna get this finished this time? I hope so. Bear with me. Sorry in advance. I'm doing my best. The good news is I have a significant bit of 23 written. But THANK YOU to the wonderful @cyarbika for beta-reading this for me! YOU ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!
Chapter Rating: M
Warnings: Allusion to sexual assault, mention of suicide, canon-typical violence, graphic description of injury, character death, language
Word Count: 4.3k words
Rex felt exposed as he watched Fisk relay the current Lothal mining operations with disinterest bordering on contempt. He didn’t catch a single word the commander–well, now captain–said as his mind raced in a panic. Senna hadn’t moved, but he could see her entire body was tense. He swallowed hard.
He has no reason to think we’re here. Just keep your head. And she’ll keep hers.
If Senator Organa recognized the name of the insolent Imperial, he didn’t give any indication, listening to Fisk’s half-hearted report attentively.
This is simple. Just keep it together. Get through this. And then he’ll leave.
He stared at Senna, hoping to catch her eye, but from what he could see under the hood of her robe, her gaze was fixed on Fisk. Her braid was tucked away, and most of her face was hidden from view. He hoped that would be enough.
As long as he doesn’t look right at her, he might not notice.
Rex’s entire mouth was dry, seemingly all of the moisture wicked away to his sweaty palms. If Fisk recognized Senna here, there would be no mitigating the disaster that would follow. The Organas would be condemned and Alderaan would likely be made an example of, collectively punished for the treason of their leaders. Their little girl would be left orphaned, and all of their work to keep the Empire away from Alderaan would be undone. He and Senna would be imprisoned at best, but he suspected the Inquisitor would have a worse fate in mind for a fellow Force user. Echo and the others would be lucky to escape on their own, but there was a chance. They were resourceful. Not even that small bit of consolation could slow his pulse, which felt like it was pounding so loudly that he half-expected one of the Imperials to turn around in an attempt to ascertain the source of the noise.
Fisk finally finished his monotone lecture, sitting back in his chair haughtily. Rex wasn’t sure what he’d relayed, but he could see the Organas’ hospitable facade was on the verge of cracking. They exchanged looks with one another, something unsaid passing between them. Bail wet his lips and took a deep breath, folding his hands on the table.
“I understand your position, but I cannot agree to these altered terms without at least informing the leaders of our various mining unions.” He extended his hands placatingly. “You understand of course, that if I were to do so, they’d be calling for a special election within the month to depose me.”
Rex doubted that was truly the senator’s concern, but if the Imperials understood and sympathized with anything, it would be the desire to hold onto power. Sure enough, Makin glanced down the table for consensus before nodding in acceptance.
“Of course, Senator. But please understand these are the most generous I could come up with. I cannot foresee anything changing should the unions take issue with it.” There was a hint of an apology in the grimace he offered, but that would be no consolation whatsoever to the miners and their subsidiaries. Rex never envied politicians, but in this instance he almost pitied Bail Organa. That news was going to be most unwelcome, and his standing with his constituents would likely be damaged to some extent, no matter how much he softened the blow.
The senator’s mouth was pulled into a thin, tight line, but he managed a small smile, rapping on the table with his knuckles as if gaveling the conversations closed.
“Very well, I believe that’s enough business for one day. If you’re alright with concluding, we can move to the dining hall. Our chefs have prepared some small plates and cocktails for you all. I’m sure you must be hungry after your journey.”
A low murmur broke out in the room as the Imperials and Alderaan delegation stood, breaking off into small clusters of conversation as they all slowly moved towards the main door. Breha and Bail stood back, speaking quietly with Makin, and Senna and the other attendants for the queen stood at attention, midnight blue pillars against the wall. Rex’s eyes scanned the group until he picked out Fisk, standing off to the side speaking quietly to Makin’s ensign. The younger man seemed to be asking for clarification on some of his notes, and Fisk was very obviously annoyed by the questions, barely paying any attention as his eyes roved the crowd, clearly looking for any sort of escape. Rex held his breath as Fisk’s gaze passed right over him without any hint of recognition or acknowledgement.
Lucky for me, he barely sees anyone below him in rank as human, Rex thought. His small sliver of relief immediately shattered when Fisk’s gaze passed over Senna only to flicker back a second later. His hazel eyes widened slightly.
Kriff.
Senna didn’t move at first, but when Fisk’s lip curled into a smirk, he could see her chin jut out defiantly, almost in a challenge as her gaze met his. Rex tensed, frozen in his spot as he ran through the options in his mind. A shootout with Imperials right now was ill-advised, particularly since they were outgunned with the personnel in this room. It would put the Organas at risk and burn Alderaan anyway. He didn’t understand why Fisk didn’t raise the alarm immediately, and was even more confused when he excused himself from the conversation with the ensign, quietly making his way towards an exit. Rex turned back to search for Senna, but he’d lost her in the crowd. He left his place against the wall, trying to make his way towards Bail Organa and Captain Antilles to alert them, doing his best to not jostle anyone in the sea of political aides and Imperials. Despite his efforts, someone bumped him roughly, and he barely caught a glimpse of a blue robe brushing by before he realized who it was. There was a tingling feeling in the small of his back, but when he reached for the vibroblade he’d tucked there, he felt only an empty sheath. A door to his left hissed open, and he whirled just in time to see that same blue robe disappearing through it.
Karking hells, Senna.
Rex whipped his head around and found Bail Organa watching the same door, his face unreadable aside from the furrow between his brows. He met Rex’s gaze, giving him an almost imperceptible nod.
Spinning on his heel, Rex made his way to the door Senna had disappeared through as quickly as he could, breaking into a sprint as soon as it closed behind him.
—
“Little late to be making a call, isn't it Commander Fisk?”
Senna couldn’t keep herself from smirking as Fisk startled at her voice, clearly absorbed in fishing a commlink out of his pocket. He winced slightly as the vibroblade she had pressed to his throat broke the first layer of skin, not yet drawing blood.
He hadn’t been hard to find, making his way to the nearest outer door that led to one of the palace’s scenic balconies, this one hanging over a river that raced between the mountain peaks and into a ravine below. An evening storm was rolling in on the horizon, and thunder rumbled in the distance. An accompanying flash of lightning illuminated them briefly, and Senna thrummed at Fisk’s surprise before they were plunged back into the fading twilight.
“Oh, my apologies, I guess it’s Captain now, right?” she sneered. “Congratulations on your demotion.”
Fisk huffed a mirthless laugh, recovering slightly.
“Should have known you’d follow me. Can’t keep away, eh Valla? Or Senna, isn’t it? Yes, that has a better ring to it, I feel. Senna Aven.”
He drew out the syllables of her name, sounding almost serpentine to Senna’s ear. Suppressing a shudder of revulsion, she reached across his body for the commlink in his hand, but he grinned wickedly, waving it out of her reach like an older child withholding a toy. She snarled, pressing the knife into his skin until he was forced back against the stone railing that lined the balcony. He swore as the knife finally drew blood, a small trickle flowing away from where the glowing point was pressed into his skin, staining the collar of his uniform. The roar of the river below grew louder as Senna leaned closer, teeth bared in a smile.
"Make another move and I'll fillet you without a second thought.”
Fisk had made her shrink once, and she wouldn’t allow it to happen again. No, this time, he wouldn’t win.
She reached for the commlink again, and this time Fisk surrendered it, his smirk still fully in place. Senna was relieved to see the comm hadn’t been activated yet. Stepping back slightly, she held it up tauntingly.
“Let me guess, you thought you’d skip your admiral and go straight to top brass to make sure you get all the credit for capturing me? Get your posting and rank back, just like that?”
His grin faltered slightly, and triumph surged through her.
“Always out for yourself,” she murmured. “So predictable.”
“Not predictable enough for you and your clone friend to escape unscathed,” he sniped. “In fact, from what I understand, shooting the clone was easy. Predictably so.”
Senna felt her anger flare, but she kept her smile fixed in place. "Don't try to get cute, Wen. It's going to take a lot more effort than you're used to," she spat, ensuring the commlink was powered off before tossing it over the balcony. The river was so far below that they didn't even hear the splash as it hit the water.
Annoyance flickered across the Imperial’s features for a moment, but he recovered quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Did he die slowly?” he asked as if he were inquiring about the weather. “I’m guessing he bled out somewhere. I hear blaster wounds can be quite painful, but one to the chest? It must have been agony.” Fisk pouted slightly. “Such a shame. A waste of Imperial property.”
Senna chewed the inside of her cheek, fighting for control of her emotions.
“He lived, actually.”
Fisk’s eyes glowed. “So he’s here then? I must have missed him in the room, although he does have a fairly common face. Easily lost in a crowd.” He shrugged. “You should know his file was easy enough to find, however. CT-7567 has quite the reputation for surviving, like an insect. That is his number, correct? Or does he still go by his little name that he picked out? Rex, was it? That’s right.”
Senna’s silence seemed to be enough confirmation for the Imperial, and he chuckled. “Always seems to make it out alive, that one, even when everyone around him dies. He was listed as ‘killed in action’, but I suppose that makes him the only known survivor of the Venator crash that carried him on his final mission. All of his brothers, dead.” His eyes flicked to Senna. “And Ahsoka Tano. But I assume you knew that already.”
Senna felt her anger surge, and before she knew it, she had Fisk pressed back against the stone again.
“Was he the one to do it?” Fisk spat, his throat bobbing under her knife. He winced again, but chuckled viciously. “How can you fuck the man that killed your friend?”
As her rage crescendoed, Senna fought to keep her face neutral. She wanted to laugh in his face, that he was wrong, that Ahsoka was alive. But all she could think of was the way Rex had nightmares about that day, about how she’d held him while he grieved. The urge to open Fisk’s throat with the knife was growing stronger. It would be messy. She’d come back inside the palace covered in blood. It was a bad plan.
Before she could come up with a better one, Fisk swung his fist at her face.
It was unexpected, but it shouldn’t have been. Senna had no time to internally chastise herself as she just barely managed to avoid the brunt of the blow. Fisk was still able to graze her chin, sending her stumbling backwards, the knife flicking shallowly across the side of his throat. By the time she’d regained her footing, he was charging her. His hands found her robes, gripping tightly and pulling, trying to yank her off balance. Senna threw her weight backwards, shrugging out of the heavy fabric and dropping into a crouch in her leggings and tunic, the cool breeze that heralded the impending storm biting through the thinner clothing. The vibroblade was torn from her grip, tangled in the robes as Fisk tugged them away and flung them off to the side.
Trails of blood streaked his throat, making his grin even more menacing in the last of the day’s failing light.
“I’d hoped for more interesting under garments. Those hardly show off that figure I know you have under there.”
Senna’s anger finally overtook any sort of training she had, and the woman that had survived a year without the Force came roaring to the front as she launched herself at him, swinging wildly. Her attack didn’t surprise him at all, and he caught her elbow with infuriating ease, using her momentum against her to slam her into the balcony’s opposite edge. She felt her tunic ride up, allowing the stone to scrape painfully against the skin of her back and waist. A fist connected with her cheek, and she crumpled to the ground, trying to blink away the stars swimming across her vision.
No. Not again.
Hands gripped her collar roughly, pulling her back to her feet and slamming her back against the railing.
“No wonder you were never given a command posting,” Fisk sneered, his breath hot and stale against Senna’s cheek. “It’s surprising they even made you Master with that temperament.” He tsked. “Very un-Jedi-like.”
Senna was still dazed, but the feeling of his hand at her throat snapped her back into clarity. His palm felt huge as it squeezed her windpipe in warning. His other hand pawed at her, and she tried to slap it away before he gripped her arm and wrenched it away, pinning it at an awkward angle. She yelped, and he slapped her. Her lip stung as it split, and she tasted blood.
“Now, Senna. You know I don’t like a fight.” He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Only surrender.”
Her vision blurred as he squeezed her throat again.
No.
“Where is that lightsaber of yours?” Fisk muttered, his hand groping around her belt and down her pockets.“It’d make quite the trophy.”
She felt fear and anger threatening at the edges of her mind, a cold embrace waiting in the wings of her mind, if she would only reach out and ask.
No.
If these were her last moments, there would not be a surrender of any kind. To Fisk. To the Empire. To the darkness that was beckoning to her.
NO.
“I remember what you taste like,” Fisk hummed, his hand cradling her face as his thumb traced her lower lip.
NO.
Senna turned and sank her teeth into Fisk’s hand. She tasted blood and felt bones crunch, and it took him more than one yank for the Imperial to free himself from her jaws. Before he could bring his other hand up to strike her, she headbutted him squarely in the face, smiling at the satisfying crack that heralded his nose shattering. Warmth enshrouded her as she reached out and shoved him backwards with the Force.
“Yeah? Well you taste like a fucking coward,” she snarled, spitting at his feet where the blood from his nose was already starting to pool. The first drop of rain pattered onto Senna’s shoulder as she strode forward, her spine straightening. Fisk tried to stand, but she was ready this time, landing a punch square to his jaw that sent him stumbling followed by a knee to his gut, almost mirroring their dance in the marketplace on Lothal. He doubled over, gasping, but she kicked him in the shoulder, sending him flying onto his back. She knelt on his chest, and he feebly tried to grapple her, scratching at her arms, but she hit him again, and his head snapped back, dazed. Lifting her arm, she called the vibroblade, and it rocketed free from the pile of her robes and into her waiting palm. Fisk was still gasping like a fish drowning in air as she pressed the blade to his throat once more.
“How’s that for Jedi-like?” she panted.
“So… now what?” he croaked out between gasps. “You kill…me?”
“It’d be better than you deserve,” a voice rumbled from behind Senna.
Fisk let his head fall back against the stone balcony’s surface, chuckling and coughing wetly. “Ah yes, the valiant Commander Rex. Or was it Captain? I’m confused about how posthumous demotions go when you’re reported as a traitor before being marked as KIA.”
“You’d know more about demotions than I would,” Rex replied easily.
Fisk snarled at the insult. “Here to save your little friend?”
“She seems to be doing fine on her own.”
The Imperial chuckled again, hacking violently as the blood from his nose streaked his cheeks.
“I must ask, how do you see yourselves getting out of this one? A dead Imperial captain will raise questions.”
“Who says we’re killing you?” Senna said quietly, her mind already racing for ways to salvage things. “Perhaps you give us information we need, and we help you get out.”
“Senna,” Rex said quietly. There was a warning in his tone.
She ignored him. “Tell us about the superweapon. Everything you know. And maybe a deal can be struck.”
“Senna.” Rex’ voice was more commanding this time, and Fisk tittered at it.
“Better listen to your lapdog,” he taunted. “He’s smart. Maybe he is worth all the money the Republic paid for him.”
“All I want is information, Wen,” Senna appealed, her hope starting to dwindle.
Fisk leaned up towards Senna, sneering at her with blood-stained teeth as her blade dug into his throat. “I’ll never tell you anything. You have no way out of this. If I die, there’ll be an entire investigation. This place will be crawling with Imperial troops before daybreak. The Organas will hang since I assume they’re involved in harboring you. And you two may escape, but they’ll find you eventually. There’s no hiding from the Empire.” His eyes raked over her, and she fought the impulse to squirm. “I’d maybe have considered something if you’d have let me test that sweet little cunt of yours out, but since you’re more interested in fucking things grown in test tubes, I fear we are at an impasse.” He giggled maniacally, eyeing Rex over her shoulder as she fumed. “Come get your Jedi whore, clone. I’ve had my fill of her.”
Senna felt Rex standing at her side, but she didn’t move.
“Get up,” he said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his blaster glinting, aimed at Fisk’s head.
“Rex, no. We can still–”
“Get up, Senna.”
“But, why–”
A firm hand slipped under her arm, pulling her to her feet. She didn’t resist.
“Because I’m going to be the one to kill him.”
The rain was starting to become stronger as Rex hauled Fisk to his feet, walking him backwards towards the railing. The Imperial frantically clawed at Rex’s arms, but he was seemingly unfazed. His helmet was off, his shoulders square, and while Senna had only caught a brief glimpse of Rex’s face as he’d brushed past her, his expression was dark enough to rival the looming storm. She imagined it was one he’d worn underneath his helmet during the war, but it was also one she was completely unfamiliar with. It chilled her, and she fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself as the wind picked up, whipping her rain-soaked braid and clothing.
“Rex, wait,” Senna protested, casting a wary glance over her shoulder. They were still alone for now, but there was no guarantee someone wouldn’t intrude at any moment.
He ignored her.
“I told you last time we spoke that men like you don’t survive long around me, that you wouldn’t touch her again,” Rex growled in Fisk’s face. “And yet here you are.”
The Imperial tried to stutter out a reply, and Rex pistol-whipped him with his blaster.
“Rex!” Senna tried again.
“Go back inside,” he thundered as the skies above them opened up.
“No, I-”
He didn’t turn. “Go back inside and tell them the captain jumped.”
Senna stood, rooted to the spot as Rex lifted Fisk off his feet. The Imperial’s legs kicked wildly in the air as his back was slammed over the railing, his balance tipping. Rex gripped the front of his blood-stained uniform, leaning closer. His words barely carried to Senna above the wind that was picking up in the storm.
“I may come from a tube, but at least people will mourn me when I’m gone,” Rex said quietly, a quiet rage lingering in every word.
“No one will believe you,” Fisk cried out desperately. His eyes bulged with fear as he tried to grip Rex’s wrists.
“I like my odds,” Rex growled. Without another word, he released his hold on Fisk’s uniform, flicking him free like an insect that had landed on him. The final emotion on the Imperial's face was one of shock as he disappeared over the edge of the railing. Senna presumed his wounded pride kept him from screaming as he plummeted onto the rocks below, or perhaps it was the sheer disbelief of his entitlement going unanswered by whatever deity he believed in. Either way, he fell soundlessly, the surging river quickly carrying his broken body away and into the night.
—
Rex stood panting as he stared over the railing at the place where Fisk’s body had slammed into the rocks. The Imperial’s body had been whisked away along with any bloody evidence that he almost didn’t believe it had all just happened. It was as if Fisk had just been swallowed up by the universe without a trace, and he couldn’t think of a more fitting end. He didn’t relish in killing things with a pulse, but this death brought him a strange sort of satisfaction, as if the universe had tipped back a little more towards a balance with him wiping Fisk out of existence. He barely felt the downpour that was drenching him, soaking into his blonde curls and running down the back of his neck. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes, trying to slow his pulse as the storm seemingly roared its approval.
“What happened?”
He turned to find a winded Captain Antilles standing in the rain behind him, holding the helmet he’d discarded before stepping outside. The damn thing was heavy and awkward, and he’d wanted his vision clear. He hadn’t been sure how the confrontation would end, but he took a small amount of satisfaction in the knowledge that his face was the last thing Fisk saw. Senna stood near the door, back in her robes already with her hood pulled low. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see she was alert, watching for anyone approaching.
“Captain?” Antilles prompted again.
Rex shrugged.
“He jumped,” he replied flatly.
Antilles was staring at the ground, and when Rex followed his gaze, he noted the dark pool of Fisk’s blood that was rapidly being washed away in the rain. Antilles’s jaw clenched.
“He jumped?”
Rex nodded.
“Seemed upset about his recent demotion,” Senna offered from her position by the door. “You just never know how some people are feeling about things.”
Antilles glared at her before sighing deeply, rubbing at his eye sockets hard.
“Did he contact anyone before he jumped?”
“No,” Senna said. “Got his comm before he powered it on. It’s in the river too.”
“We’ll need to retrieve the body.” Antilles looked at Rex again. “Anything that might make that story sound even less plausible?”
“Bite mark on his left hand,” Senna replied, and the captain sighed again.
“Got it.” He was silent for a moment before handing Rex back his helmet. “The Imps’ll want a search party immediately, and I’ll have to scramble to get one assembled.” Glancing skyward, he chewed his lip. “It’ll be tough in this storm though. That river runs down into a ravine that’s really only accessible on foot, and it’ll be treacherous in this weather.” He met Rex’s eyes again. “Hopefully, we can recover Captain Fisk’s body before any animals find it. Would hate to bring him back not fully intact.”
Rex understood the implication. “It’d be a shame.”
Antilles nodded, turning to Senna. “Aven, make yourself scarce. You’re with me, Captain. Better have that story simple and solid by the time we brief the Imps.”
Rex tried to catch Senna’s eye, but she had already pulled her hood low, hiding her face from view. He wanted to call out to her, to speak with her and calm himself, but his tongue felt heavy, his throat raw. Wordlessly, he pulled his helmet on, trying to wet his lips. Senna’s fingers locked around his, and he felt some of the trembling in his hand still as he tried again unsuccessfully to find her eyes under the hood. Her voice emerged from beneath the heavy blue fabric, and his heart stuttered in his chest as he did his best to ground himself in what little of her he had in the moment.
“I’ll meet you back at the room,” she said quietly.
Before he could muster a response, she let go of his hand and swept back through the doors into the palace, her dark robes disappearing from view. Rex took one more deep inhale of the cool, damp air, releasing it slowly. Then he followed Senna inside with Antilles falling into step beside him.
A/N: Yeah. That felt good. Get wrekt, Fisk.
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