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Sep 12, 2025

Event Horizon

Chapter Forty-Eight: Out of Mind

Chapter WC: 7,940

Chapter Tags/Warnings: a lot of emotional turmoil but at least we have Fives

A/N: well this chapter was entirely unplanned. i guess Fives wasn't done having his moment? anyway enjoy me explaining the Jedi religion to myself

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Umbara, 20 BBY

When you catch up to Krell at the front of the pack, he's staring off into the distance, dark eyes trained on the trees surrounding the clearing. You follow his gaze, searching for whatever it is that has captured his attention, but all you can see is the endless sea of darkness, punctuated by flashes of light from the distant blasterfire.

The 212th must be nearing the capital, and you wonder if they've encountered any resistance. If Obi-Wan is safe.

"Master Krell," you call, and he doesn't look up. He merely pulls out his wrist comm and activates the map, the image flickering to life in the dim light. "Is everything alright?"

"Out here, you'll refer to me as General," he replies with a sigh. "And no, I don't think things are 'alright.' Do you?"

"Of course not," you answer. You glance over at the troopers trailing behind you, their eyes downcast, their weapons held loosely in their hands. They're exhausted, and they have every right to be. "This is...it's bad."

"Indeed," Krell murmurs, and your eyes flicker over the map, following the route he's plotted through the forest and up to where the terrain plateaus along the main supply line into the city. It's a winding path, and the terrain is rough, but you have no doubt that he knows where he's going. "What was that back there?"

"What was what?" you ask warily.

His gaze shifts towards you, and the corners of his lips curl upwards. "That...display back there.”

Your blood runs cold. You have to stop yourself from instinctively looking back at Rex, your hands tightening into fists behind your back. He can't possibly mean...

"With the animals," he clarifies, and you relax slightly, though your pulse still pounds in your ears. "I've never seen anything like it. You used the Force to incapacitate them, didn't you?"

"I...yes," you admit, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"It's quite remarkable," he continues. "The amount of power required to manipulate such creatures. Especially in combat."

You glance at him, confused by the sudden change in his tone, but he doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are fixed on the path ahead, his fingers tapping idly against his forearm.

"I don't know," you reply slowly. "It just...happened. I didn't have time to think."

"Of course," he replies. He stops and turns to you, his eyes scanning your body, taking in the blood and dirt covering your armor and robes. "You're quite the warrior."

"I don't feel very strong right now," you murmur, looking away.

"Don't sell yourself short," Krell scoffs, and he reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I've heard the stories. Your strength, determination, and resourcefulness are well known throughout the Republic. Your accomplishments are a testament to the power of the Force, and the ability of the Jedi Order to mold you into something more than mere flesh and blood."

"Thank you," you manage. His hand squeezes your shoulder once before he releases you, and you resist the urge to rub at the spot, a chill running down your spine. "It's just...it doesn't always feel like a blessing."

Krell's eyes narrow, his nostrils flaring slightly, and you have the sudden feeling that you've said too much. You're about to apologize, to explain that you're simply tired and emotional, but his expression softens, and he waves his hand dismissively.

"It's not a curse, young one," he says gently. "Not to those who understand its true nature."

"You mean, the true nature of the Dark Side," you clarify. "Like Dooku."

Krell chuckles as his eyes turn skyward, staring at the lights streaking through the atmosphere. One of the bat creatures flies overhead, but it makes no attempt to dive towards the group.

"No, I mean the nature of the Force itself," he corrects. "And the power it can grant those who are willing to embrace it. It is an endless well of energy, a source of strength and power, capable of doing great good...and terrible harm."

You look away, thinking back to the creature you'd killed, the feeling of its life fading away beneath your fingertips. You can still feel its death, the echo of its last breath reverberating through the Force, a memory you know you'll never be able to forget.

"I didn't want to kill it," you tell him.

"But you did," Krell answers. "And now the men are alive because of your actions."

"It doesn't feel like a victory," you say bitterly.

"Because you're still thinking like a Jedi," he sighs. He shakes his head, his eyes returning to the forest around you. "There's no room for sentimentality in war, General. It will lead to mistakes, and those mistakes will lead to failure."

"Yes, sir," you murmur.

"I know it's difficult, but you have to learn how to distance yourself from the emotions that cloud your judgement," he continues, and you bite your lip, holding back the retort forming on your tongue.

He doesn't know the first thing about you, or how you fight, and yet he's lecturing you like you're some wet behind the ears Padawan. It's infuriating.

"Emotions are a distraction," he says. "A hindrance. They lead to mistakes. And those mistakes can cost you your life...and the lives of your men."

"I know that," you snap.

"Then act like it," he snaps back. You clench your jaw, grinding your teeth together. He turns to face you, his expression stern, his eyes burning with a fire that sends a shiver down your spine. "Do not take this as a criticism. I am merely offering my advice, and the experience of a man who has been on the battlefield longer than you have even been alive."

"Yes, sir," you answer through clenched teeth.

"You have great potential," he continues. "But if you're going to lead these men, then do so with purpose. Not because of some misguided sense of obligation, or because of some romantic notion that you can save them all."

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat as he raises a finger, pointing towards the path ahead.

"This is a battle. It's not about saving the lives of your soldiers, or winning their hearts and minds. It's about eliminating the enemy, and protecting the Republic," he tells you firmly. "Nothing else matters. So unless you're willing to do whatever is necessary to accomplish your mission, then I suggest you fall back and allow the men who can handle this situation to take the lead."

Your jaw clenches, and you look away, struggling to keep the anger from showing on your expression. The sickness churning in the pit of your stomach rises up, sharpening into something dark and poisonous, and you force it down, focusing instead on the sounds of the men walking behind you. They're silent, but you can feel their eyes on you. And when you look back at Krell, he's watching you carefully, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"This is your chance to prove the Council wrong," he says quietly, and the knot in your stomach twists, the anger simmering in the back of your mind threatening to boil over. "Show them that you're more than just some reckless idealist who was handed a title because of who her Master is. Prove that you're a worthy General. A worthy member of the Jedi Order."

You look up at him, his dark eyes glinting in the low light, and your hands ball into fists at your sides.

"You know nothing about me," you hiss.

"I know everything I need to know," he answers. "I've read your file. And I can assure you, the Council isn't as stupid as they appear. They may have allowed you to keep your rank and position, but they know the truth."

"The truth," you echo flatly.

"Yes," he says. "The truth."

He pauses, tilting his head to the side and fixing you with a hard stare, his lips pressed together in a tight line. A flicker of something passes over his expression, too fast for you to recognize. And then it's gone, replaced by the smug grin you've grown accustomed to over the past several days.

"That you're a danger to those around you," he finishes.

Your jaw clenches, and your heart hammers in your chest, a familiar sense of rage coursing through your veins, the heat spreading across your skin like fire. You want nothing more than to strike him, to wipe the smirk from his lips, but the memory of the battle and the creature's death holds you back. You can't lose control, not here, not now.

Not with the lives of so many depending on you.

"I don't need to prove myself to you," you say calmly. "Or to the Council."

"Then prove yourself to the men," he challenges, gesturing towards the clones behind you. "Prove that you're capable of leading them into battle. That you're not afraid to get your hands dirty."

You grit your teeth and close your eyes, the anger and frustration boiling in the back of your mind. You try to push it aside, to focus on the feeling of the earth beneath your feet, the cold wind brushing across your cheeks. But the more you try to calm yourself, the more the memories return, the voices and faces of the fallen swirling around your mind.

The creature's body lying limp at your feet, its eyes glazed and lifeless.

The clone's screams as the claws sank into his flesh, the blood staining his white armor red.

The fire and ash consuming Duro, and your men with it.

The bodies of your fellow Jedi falling around you on Geonosis, too fast for you to stop it.

And, long ago, the building collapsing around you, deep in the underbelly of Coruscant, the dust filling your lungs and choking the life out of you.

Dozens of images flash by faster than you can catch them. Things you'd forgotten, things you'd long since thought yourself capable of putting behind you, resurface with a vengeance. Memories that you'd buried beneath layers of training and practice, locked away and hidden from view. But now, in the aftermath of the battle, they're all you can see.

"Do you really think this is what Yaddle would want for you?" he asks softly.

You flinch, the mention of her name catching you off guard, and you open your eyes, turning to glare at him.

"Don't bring her into this," you warn.

He shrugs and steps closer, towering over you, his body blocking out the little light from the sky that remains.

"Why not?" he asks, raising his arms. "She's the one who put this idea into your head. This...foolish dream that you could make a difference, that you could save the galaxy from evil."

"You don't know the first thing about her," you whisper. "Or me."

"I know you better than you think," he says, and you scoff.

"I doubt that."

"It's true," he replies. "I've watched your career, followed it, admired it. Your ability to defy the odds, and the Council, has made you quite the subject of interest."

"And what would the Council say if they knew what you were doing?" you ask, glaring at him. "How you're treating the men under your command?"

"They'd say nothing," Krell answers easily, and you scowl. His hands clasp together in front of his waist, his knuckles turning white as he continues, "After all, what right do they have to speak on matters such as this? After the way they've treated you and your men, and those of us who dare question the status quo."

"That's different," you protest.

"How?"

You hesitate, trying to come up with a response, but your thoughts are muddled, the anger and confusion clouding your mind. You don't know what to think or feel, and the pressure is getting to you, the fear and uncertainty eating away at your sanity.

"It just is," you say lamely.

Krell smirks and shakes his head, looking down the road and continuing on, leaving you standing there, stunned and speechless. The rest of the men follow suit, their footsteps crunching softly on the dirt, and you swallow hard, your throat dry and your chest tight.

"Come on, General," Fives calls out, and you turn to see him and Jesse standing next to each other, waiting for you. "We've got a ways to go before we're safe."

You blink, your eyes burning. Your gaze drifts back to the trail and the darkness stretching out before you, the shadows seeming to press in on every side. It's too much. Too much to process.

"I'm going to scout ahead," you call, and Jesse starts, glancing over his shoulder at you.

"What?"

"I won't be gone more than a couple of minutes," you promise, already turning and striding away from them. You step over a fallen branch, careful not to trip on the roots jutting out of the earth, and move off the worn path, into the shadows of the trees. "Just need a minute alone."

"Shouldn't someone go with her?" Tup asks quietly, and you hear Jesse sigh heavily.

"Yeah," he mutters. "Go get Rex."

Your heart skips a bit, and you pick up your pace, pushing through the undergrowth. The branches and twigs scratch at your armor, but you ignore them, focusing on putting as much distance between you and the men as possible.

The forest seems to swallow you whole, the darkness engulfing everything in sight, and soon you're completely alone, the sounds of the troopers fading into the background. Your feet find a path, and you follow it, not caring where it leads. You can still feel the faint presence of the men, their voices and thoughts a distant hum in the back of your mind, but the further you go, the fainter it gets, until all that's left is the cold, quiet stillness of the night air.

You walk aimlessly, your footsteps echoing in the silence, until the ground beneath your boots changes from soft dirt and leaves to cold, smooth stone. You look down, confused, and realize that the path has led you into a clearing, the trees surrounding it thinning out and revealing a large, flat slab of rock. It's a strange sight, and you hesitate, taking in the scene before you.

In the center of the clearing is a massive boulder, nearly twice as tall as you, its surface covered in moss and lichen. Around it are a series of smaller rocks, stacked neatly in a circle, each one a different size and shape. They're arranged haphazardly, with no apparent pattern, and they seem to go on forever, forming an endless ring of stones around the giant slab in the middle.

It's a strange landmark on a planet whose people are consumed by war and strife, and a boundless desire for innovation. And yet, something about the place seems oddly peaceful, as if the battle and carnage had never existed here. It's a welcome change, and you take a step forward, moving slowly and carefully through the field.

When you reach the stone in the center, you leap up onto the top and crouch down, placing a hand on the smooth surface. It's cold and slightly damp, and you can feel the earth beneath your fingertips, the faint vibrations of the ground resonating through the rock.

It feels almost alive.

The realization catches you off guard, and you sit back, staring at the boulder. The sensation is faint, and it reminds you of the feeling you had on Felucia, before the battle. How the earth itself had seemed to pulse with energy, the Force flowing through the ground and the plants and animals, filling the air with a sense of calm and tranquility. But this is different. More primal, somehow. As if the land itself was reaching out to you, trying to communicate.

You close your eyes, adjusting your position so that your knees are tucked under your chin, and take a slow, steadying breath, centering yourself in the Force. The connection comes more easily this time, and the vibrations increase, the waves traveling up through your hands and into your arms, spreading throughout your body.

"I'm not going to pretend to understand how this works," you say quietly. You take in a deep breath through your nose and hold it for a second before letting it out through your mouth, the cool night air sending a shiver down your spine. "But I know that the Force is in everything, even if I can't always see it. So if you're trying to tell me something, I'm listening."

For a minute, there's nothing, just the gentle thrumming of the ground beneath you, the waves of energy pulsing through your veins, and the cold night air brushing against your cheeks. Then, a familiar warmth touches the back of your mind, and your eyes snap open.

"I didn't think that would work," you breathe, your gaze darting around the clearing. "Yaddle."

There's no reply, but you can feel the warmth increasing, wrapping around your consciousness like a blanket, and you close your eyes again, sinking deeper into the sensation.

"What do I do?" you ask, and the warmth intensifies, the vibrations rippling through your skin. "I'm sorry, Master. I'm trying, but..."

You pause, taking another breath and letting the waves pass through you. The feeling is soothing, and the panic that's been coiled around your heart for the past week loosens slightly, allowing you to breathe a little easier.

"It's hard," you whisper. "Everything feels wrong. I don't know how to explain it, but...something's off."

You feel a ripple of acknowledgment from Yaddle, and your heart leaps, the memory of her smile filling your mind.

"It's not just the fighting, or the killing," you continue, and the warmth intensifies, wrapping around you and drawing you in. "It's this planet. And it's...it's Krell."

A ripple of unease runs through the Force, and you shake your head, the memory of Krell's smirk flashing before your eyes.

"I know, I shouldn't say things like that," you say quickly, opening your eyes and looking down at your hands. The web of scars along your palms seem to glow in the moonlight, and you trace the lines absently. "He's my superior officer, and I should respect him. But...I don't know, there's something about him. Something that doesn't feel right."

There's a flicker of doubt in the back of your mind, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a feeling of reassurance. You glance around the clearing, half expecting to see Yaddle standing before you, but the space is empty. It's just you and the boulder and the night sky, and the faint sounds of fighting in the distance.

"I'm probably being ridiculous," you mutter, and the warmth returns, pulsing through your hands and into the earth. "I just can't seem to focus anymore. I keep losing control, and..."

You hesitate, the memories of the creature's death replaying in your mind.

"I don't know," you sigh. "It's like something's trying to pull me away from the light. To drag me down into the darkness."

The waves of comfort fade, and you look up, searching the clearing for any sign of Yaddle. But there's nothing, just the stillness and the cold. You swallow hard, fighting back the tears burning behind your eyelids.

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I'm trying. I'm doing my best, but it's...it's so hard. Everything's changing, and I can't keep up."

You feel the ground rumble slightly, and you take a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable answer, the voice in the back of your mind that will tell you to fight, to stay strong, to carry on. To trust in the Force and let it guide you, like it's done a thousand times before.

But instead, the ground falls silent, and a sudden wave of coldness washes over you, causing you to shiver. You pull your knees closer to your chest, huddling in on yourself and trying to ward off the chill.

"Is it my fault?" you whisper. "Is it because of me?"

You're greeted by a silence so complete and all-encompassing that you swear you can hear the blood pumping through your veins.

"Is this the path I'm meant to take?"

For a second, you think that the question was never asked, or perhaps your words were carried away by the wind, lost forever in the night. But then the ground trembles, and the vibration spreads up your legs, sending a shiver down your spine. The darkness surrounding you seems to thicken, enveloping you in a cocoon of icy coldness. Your breath stutters, and you stand, the ground swaying beneath your feet, threatening to send you toppling into the inky black expanse below.

You're right. Rex was right. It's not just the battle, the men, the circumstances that have led you here.

It's this planet, this dark and twisted place, where the lines between good and evil have become blurred, and the very foundations of reality have begun to crumble.

It's Krell, and his influence, and the way his words seem to worm their way into your mind, twisting the truth and leaving you feeling more alone and uncertain than ever.

It's the feeling that's been building inside you, the anger and fear and doubt, the questions that you've been too afraid to ask, and the answers that have remained elusive, dancing just out of reach.

It's the dread in the pit of your stomach, the sense that something terrible is coming, and that there's nothing you can do to stop it.

"General?"

You yelp, your foot slipping on the moss, and you pitch forward. It's only your reflexes that save you from falling flat on your face, and you scramble to find purchase, the ground spinning wildly beneath your feet.

"Whoa," Fives says, and he lunges forward, grabbing you by the elbow and steadying you. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"What the hell are you doing here?" you snap, glaring up at him.

"Checking up on you," he replies easily. He shrugs, and you pull your arm out of his grasp, stepping away from the boulder and onto solid ground. "Figured you might need a friend."

"I'm fine," you grumble, dusting off your robes and checking to make sure that your lightsabers are still secured to your belt. Your hand brushes over Yaddle's saber, and there's a warmth to it that wasn't there before, a sensation like sunlight filtering through the branches of the trees. You take a breath and try to ignore it, focusing instead on the clone before you. "Go back to the others. I'll be there in a minute."

Fives doesn't move. His eyes narrow, sweeping over the clearing and taking in the sight of the stones surrounding the boulder. He lingers on the rocks for a second before he looks at you, his expression softening.

"I didn't want to intrude," he says quietly. "But I...I had a feeling. That you might need someone."

You scoff, shaking your head and turning away from him.

"Don't worry about me," you mumble, staring down at your hands, tracing the lines of your scars with your thumb. "I'm a Jedi."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean you're invincible," Fives retorts, and you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head, studying you carefully. "We all need a little support every now and then. Even the great Jedi Generals."

"I'm not a general anymore," you remind him. "Not since the Council put me on suspension."

"They'll lift it," he assures you. "They always do. They can't afford not to."

You roll your eyes and walk towards the edge of the clearing, ignoring the way his words seem to echo in the back of your mind. He's right, of course. There aren't enough Jedi left to be picky about things like this, not with the war raging on. But the thought doesn't make you feel any better.

"I guess we'll see," you say bitterly.

Fives takes a step closer, his boots crunching on the leaves, and you pause, looking back at him. He's watching you closely, and his expression is so open and earnest that it's almost painful to look at.

"Hey, whatever happens, we're here for you," he says softly. "All of us. And we're gonna get through this, alright? No matter what."

You nod and start walking again, heading back towards the path and the forest beyond. He follows after you, his footsteps barely audible against the dirt. The night air is cold, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm.

"This place is weird," Fives murmurs.

You chuckle. "Yeah."

He hesitates, glancing over at you. "Were you, uh...talking to someone?"

"No," you lie, and he hums in response, sounding unconvinced. After a moment, you sigh and shake your head. "I was trying. It's hard, though."

"Trying what?"

"To talk to the dead."

His eyebrows shoot up, and he blinks, staring at you in confusion.

"Um, okay," he says slowly, his eyes drifting back towards the boulder and the stones surrounding it. "That's...kind of morbid, isn't it?"

You shrug, and he shakes his head, looking away and focusing on the path ahead.

"Does it work?" he asks, after a brief pause.

"Sometimes," you answer. "It's difficult to explain. The Jedi believe that the dead all join the living Force. That they become part of it. You're not really supposed to try and communicate with them directly, but..."

You trail off, thinking of the last time you spoke to Yaddle. She'd appeared to you in your moment of greatest desperation, guiding you to the answers you'd been seeking, and she'd seemed so real, so tangible, that you'd nearly forgotten that she was gone. You'd believed, if even for a second, that she'd found a way back to you, that the Force had brought her to you, that the impossible had become possible.

Now, in the wake of all that’s happened since, you’re not sure what to believe.

"It's comforting," Fives finishes for you. He sighs and shakes his head. "I wish there was some kind of manual for this stuff. I've got no idea what the hell is going on."

"Me neither," you admit, and he looks at you, arching an eyebrow. "What? You think that because I'm a Jedi, I have all the answers? Because I don't."

"Really?" he asks sarcastically. "That's news to me."

You chuckle and bump your shoulder against his, and he smiles, nudging you back. The two of you walk in silence for a minute, listening to the sounds of the night. There's a distant howling echoing through the forest, and you shiver, your grip tightening on the fabric of your robes.

"I was trying to speak to my Master," you admit after a while.

"Your Master," Fives repeats. He glances at you and frowns, his pace slowing slightly. "I didn't realize she'd died."

"She was murdered a decade ago," you reply quietly. "The Council never found her killer."

"Kriff, I'm sorry," he says, and he takes a breath and runs a hand through his hair, his expression softening. "So, what, you've just been carrying this around for ten years? No wonder you're so..."

You shoot him a look, and he cuts himself off, grimacing slightly.

"What was her name?" he asks instead.

"Yaddle," you reply with a sigh. "She was one of the oldest and wisest members of the Jedi Order. She taught me everything I know."

"So, why haven't you caught the guy?" he asks bluntly, and you blink, taken aback by the question. "You said the Council never found him, but you're a Jedi, right? You must have some kind of special investigative powers or something."

You huff a laugh and shake your head, the bitterness rising up within you, thick and cloying. You push it aside and take a breath, centering yourself in the Force, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest.

"I tried," you mutter, and he shoots you a confused look, frowning slightly. "The Council had other priorities. So I took matters into my own hands."

"And?"

With a sigh, you hold out your hand, showing him the scars lining your palm, the pale flesh puckered and distorted, a reminder of the past that you'll never be able to erase. Of the choices you've made, and the paths you've chosen. And the man who forced you down one of those paths.

"I failed," you tell him, and his eyes widen as he takes in the sight, the understanding dawning across his features. You draw your hand back and shove it into the folds of your robes, hiding the evidence from view. "Dooku escaped justice, and...here we are. I'm on Umbara, trying my best not to fuck things up, and the war goes on."

Fives stares at you, his mouth hanging open. He's quiet for a minute, and you look away, focusing on the path ahead as you continue your trek through the forest. You can't stand the thought of seeing pity in his eyes.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Yeah," you mutter.

"That's...that's rough," he says awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

You shrug and keep walking.

"Don't be," you tell him. "It is what it is. I've had time to come to terms with it. And I like to think that she's still watching over me, somehow."

"Do the Jedi really believe that?" he asks after a moment. "That the dead are still with us?"

You pause, considering the question. The idea of the Force is a difficult one to explain, especially to those who don't have access to its power. But if there's anyone who deserves to know, it's him. And maybe it would do the both of you some good to talk about it. You've been keeping a lot to yourself lately, and he's proven himself trustworthy. He might even understand.

"I don't know if I can explain it in a way that will make sense," you admit. "But I suppose the easiest way to put it would be to say that the Force is like a stream. A constant flow of energy that connects all living things. And whenever a life ends, their essence joins that stream, becoming a part of it."

Fives looks down at the ground and scuffs the dirt with his boot, his brow furrowing in concentration. "So you think they're still with us. Just, hidden. In the Force."

"Sort of," you reply, and he glances at you, waiting for you to continue. "I think...I think every life adds another drop of water. But the drop isn't lost. It's still there. It's just part of a bigger picture now. One that we can't see. We're a part of it too."

Fives pauses, taking in your words. He glances over at you and arches an eyebrow.

"Wait, so we're all just one big giant puddle?" he asks, and you can't stop the grin from spreading across your face, your shoulders shaking as you fight back the laughter threatening to burst from your lips. "Like a pool of goo? Or is it more like an ocean?"

"I don't know," you wheeze, clutching your side as a fit of giggles threatens to overwhelm you. "I'm not the expert here, remember?"

"So, there's no definitive answer?"

"Not really," you admit. You take a breath and wipe a tear from your cheek, regaining control over your emotions. "The Jedi believe that death is simply the next step in the cycle of life. That all things have their place in the Force. We just don't know what it is yet."

Fives hums and tilts his head back, staring up at the dark sky, his expression thoughtful. You follow his gaze, and the two of you walk in silence for a minute, lost in the vastness of the universe above. Then he looks back down and shakes his head, his brows knitting together.

"That's kinda sad," he says quietly. "Knowing that you're just going to disappear."

"Is it?" you ask, and he shrugs, his eyes drifting towards the ground. "I think being a part of something bigger than yourself is comforting. That there's a place for everyone. Even those who've gone before us."

"I guess," Fives mutters. He's quiet for a minute, then he turns and flashes you a grin. "Still doesn't change the fact that we're all gonna end up in some giant cosmic soup."

"Well, at least we'll all be together," you tease. "Wouldn't that be nice? The whole galaxy, just sitting in a big pot and talking shit about the living."

"That'd be the ultimate afterlife," Fives laughs. "No more war. No more fighting. Just a bunch of old farts reminiscing about the good ol' days."

"Old farts?" you scoff. "Speak for yourself."

"Aren't you like, a hundred years old?"

"Try thirty-one, you nerf herder," you grumble. You're about to tell him off for being insensitive, but he grins and winks at you, and you can't keep the smile from your lips. "Anyway, what are you doing out here, Fives? Shouldn't you be with the others?"

He sighs and kicks at a stone, sending it tumbling off the path and into the undergrowth.

"Yeah," he says. "I should be."

"Then what's keeping you?"

"Rex was worried about you," he admits with a sigh. "I told him I'd go find you."

"Why?"

"Why?" Fives echoes incredulously. He shakes his head and laughs, though the humor doesn't reach his eyes. "Come on, General. You can't be serious. We all saw what happened back there. How you took control of those creatures and...and..."

"Killed them," you finish, and he blinks, looking away.

"Well, yeah. That," he mutters. He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. "You're pretty messed up about it, aren't you?"

"That's an understatement," you say. You watch as his expression softens, his eyes drifting down to your hands and the scars lining your palms. You fold your arms over your chest. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Are you sure about that?" he asks softly.

"I said I'm fine," you repeat sharply. "Just drop it, alright?"

Fives sighs and raises his hands in surrender. He steps back and watches you carefully, his brow furrowed, and his lips pressed together in a firm line. There's a tense silence between the two of you for a minute, and then he clears his throat and glances over his shoulder, back towards the clearing.

"I didn't know the Jedi could do stuff like that," he says carefully. "Using the Force to control other living things."

You nod and take a breath, running a hand through your hair. It's starting to come loose from the braid, and you tuck a strand behind your ear, avoiding his gaze.

"It's not something that's taught at the Temple," you tell him quietly. "Or really talked about at all."

"Then how did you learn it?"

"I didn't."

Fives frowns and stares at you, and you shrug, the guilt churning in the pit of your stomach. You try to ignore it, focusing instead on the ground beneath your feet and the trees swaying in the wind. But the memory of the creature's death is still fresh in your mind, and the weight of it is heavy on your shoulders, the shame eating away at you like acid.

"It just happened," you mutter. "During the battle. I saw one of the creatures about to kill Dogma, and I reacted without thinking. And the next thing I knew, I was..."

You trail off, a shudder running down your spine. You close your eyes and take a slow breath, letting the cold night air fill your lungs. When you open your eyes again, Fives is watching you, his brow furrowed.

"Does Rex know?"

"I haven't had a chance to talk to him," you reply quietly. You can feel his gaze on you, and you shift uncomfortably, rubbing at your elbow. "He's been busy."

"Well, it's probably best if he doesn't," Fives tells you. He sighs and shakes his head, and his tone softens. "The captain's not in a great place right now."

"I know," you whisper. You take a breath and look up at him, meeting his gaze. "Thank you, by the way. For being here. For looking out for me."

Fives' eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he blinks, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile.

"Sure," he says. "Of course. I mean, that's what friends are for, right?"

Your heart leaps in your chest, and a warmth spreads through you, easing the ache in your bones and chasing away the chill of the night air. You hadn't realized how much you'd needed to hear that. How much it meant to you. It's a small comfort, but it's still something. And with the way things have been going lately, you'll take whatever you can get.

"Friends," you echo, testing the word on your tongue. You smile. "Yeah. I guess we are."

Fives grins and slaps you on the back, and the two of you continue down the path, leaving the clearing and the stones behind.

"So," he says, glancing at you. "Did you find what you were looking for? Yaddle, or whatever. Was she there?"

You think back to the conversation, the warmth and the comfort that you'd felt, the peace and the tranquility that had surrounded you. And then the fear and the doubt, the anger and the confusion, and the way the ground had trembled beneath your feet, the darkness pressing in around you like a noose. You swallow hard and shake your head.

"I don't know," you admit, and he nods, looking away. "She was, for a while. But, now...I can't sense her anymore. And, if I'm being honest, I'm not sure if she was really here at all."

Fives hums, his expression thoughtful.

"Does it matter?" he asks.

You raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, "does it matter if she was really here or not? If you felt like she was, and it made you feel better, then that's what matters, right?"

You hesitate as his words sink in, and you turn the question over in your mind. Is it really that simple? You'd been so caught up in your doubts and fears that you'd failed to consider the possibility that maybe you didn't need an answer, or some grand revelation. Maybe, sometimes, just knowing is good. Just being is good. Just being with people who care about you is good.

Maybe that's what matters.

"I guess," you concede, and he grins, clearly pleased by the admission. "We'll see."

He chuckles and reaches out, clapping you on the shoulder and squeezing gently.

“C’mon. Let's get back to the group. Rex'll be glad to know we're not dead."

"That would certainly put a damper on his plans for the evening," you joke as you pick up the pace.

"And here I was thinking you'd want to be the center of his attention," Fives replies with a wink. "You know, given your little romance and all."

"Little romance," you repeat flatly. You shoot him a look and shake your head. "Right."

"Hey, it's not my fault you haven't gotten around to the fun stuff yet," he teases, and you flush, glancing away. He arches an eyebrow, noticing your reaction, and his grin widens. "Unless you have."

You roll your eyes and punch him in the arm. "You can ask Rex that yourself. Leave me out of it."

"Oh, I will," he promises, and you groan, already regretting this conversation. You have a feeling that the next time the two of you have a chance to catch up, Rex is going to kill you both.

The two of you hurry down the path, winding back the way you came through the underbrush. Fives lets you take the lead as you reach out through the Force, following Rex's familiar presence back towards the group. He's anxious, and there's a hint of something else there, something deeper and more profound. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Whatever it is, he's trying to hide it, bury it under a thin layer of composure. But you can sense it, and the closer you get, the more pronounced it becomes, until it's practically radiating off of him.

You quicken your pace, and Fives keeps up easily, his footsteps echoing behind you as the trees thin out and the trodden path the troopers are on comes into view. Immediately, Krell comes striding down the line, his expression darkening as his eyes settle on the two of you. He stops and waits, glaring at Fives, and the clone stiffens, his hands tightening into fists behind his back.

“ARC-5555," he barks, and Fives' head snaps up, his spine straightening instinctively. "Did I not explicitly order you to remain with the group at all times?"

"You did, sir," he answers stiffly, and you can hear the strain in his voice, the effort he's putting into keeping his tone respectful.

"Then why are you so far behind?" Krell demands. "Have you forgotten your duty? Or are you simply choosing to disobey orders?"

"I asked him to come with me, General," you interrupt, and his gaze shifts to you, his expression shifting from anger to annoyance.

"Oh?" he asks. "And what could be so important that you would risk the safety of the men by going off on your own?"

You bristle at the insinuation, the anger and frustration coiling in the pit of your stomach. He knows exactly why you're upset, why you need to get away. The look on his face tells you that much. And he's enjoying every second of it.

"I was scouting ahead," you answer smoothly, swallowing down the curse forming on your lips. "I needed to check the path and ensure that we wouldn't run into any more traps."

His eyes narrow slightly, and the knot in your stomach twists tighter, your heart racing in your chest.

“And did you find anything worthwhile?” he asks, his hands drifting slowly to his sides.

“No, I didn’t,” you mutter, and his hands still.

"Of course you didn’t. Because this is a waste of time," he replies. "Our priority should be securing the city and taking out the Separatist leadership. Not wandering through the woods chasing shadows."

You bite your tongue and look away, his words ringing in your ears. Rex is pushing his way through the group now, his gaze locked on the two of you, his face pinched with worry and anger. Your pulse pounds in your temples, the heat rising in your cheeks, and you force yourself to breathe, to remain calm, to not lose control.

"Next time, consult me before taking such actions," Krell says curtly. He glances around at the rest of the men, lingering on Rex, and then back to you. "I expect you to remain at the back of the column with me, General."

"Yes, sir," you manage.

Krell grunts and turns, stalking back towards the back of the group, disappearing into the shadows. You watch him go, your blood boiling, and then a hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You look over to see Rex, his expression grim.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

You nod, your eyes following Krell, and his grip tightens slightly.

"I'll talk to him," he offers, and you scoff, shaking your head.

"No, don't," you reply. "It'll just make things worse."

Rex sighs, running a hand over his face and rubbing at his temple. He looks tired and worn down, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual, the dark circles standing out starkly against his skin. He’s doing a good job of hiding it, but he’s as exhausted and frustrated as the rest of you.

It won’t stop him from doing his duty. But, then again, nothing will.

"Look," he begins, "I don't like the guy either, but he is a superior officer, and you can't just disobey his orders like that. Especially not in front of the men."

"I didn't disobey his orders," you mutter bitterly. "I was just..."

"You were just what?" he presses.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words die on your tongue, and you glance around, suddenly aware of the dozens of eyes fixed on you. Fives meets your gaze and gives a subtle shake of his head, and you scowl, your teeth grinding together.

"Nothing," you mutter.

Rex watches you for a second longer, his eyes searching your face, and then he releases his grip on your shoulder and lets his hand fall to his side. He nods and turns away, marching back to the front of the group and shouting out orders. The men begin to move again, the column reforming and picking up speed, and you watch them pass by, the guilt and shame burning in the pit of your stomach.

You're not a general. Not anymore. And yet, they still look to you for guidance and leadership, still expect you to be strong, and capable, and in control. You want to give them that, to be the Jedi they need, but how can you, if you can't even be trusted to do your job?

If you can't even trust yourself?

“Hang in there, sir,” Fives offers with a pat on your shoulder, before following his brothers.

You wait until he's gone before letting out a slow breath, rubbing a hand over your eyes and trying to ease the ache building behind them.

The truth is, you have no idea how to handle Krell. He's unlike any other Jedi you've ever met, and his presence is almost suffocating, his power and strength radiating from him like a beacon. But it's the way he looks at you, the way his eyes seem to burn into your soul, that sends a chill down your spine.

And, most unsettling of all, the fact that you can't tell what he's thinking. His thoughts are closed off to you, and the lack of insight is disturbing, to say the least. Not that you've tried very hard. It's an invasion of his privacy, and a gross misuse of the Force, but the temptation is there, nonetheless.

Still, there's no point in dwelling on it. You have a job to do, and you're determined to prove yourself to the Council and to the Republic, once and for all. To show that you're more than just a reckless and idealistic young Jedi who has yet to come to grips with the realities of war and violence.

That you can handle the dark side and the chaos it brings.

That you can protect the men under your command, no matter the cost.

Even if it means doing whatever is necessary to complete the mission.

You look back down the road, watching the troops moving through the forest, and your jaw clenches, a spark of determination flaring in your chest. You've already made a lot of mistakes, and the consequences have been costly. But every obstacle is an opportunity, and this is a chance to prove yourself, once and for all, to show the Council and the Republic what you're capable of. What you can do.

Your path is set.

"This is a test," you murmur to yourself. "And I will pass it."

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#the clone wars #captain rex #clone captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #roy writes #event horizon #me editing a chapter: hmm yeah something's missing #adds more philosophical conversations about death #and more conflict #that's better

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