Kamino
Inside a pristine white room at the cloning facility in Tipoca City, a man in a dark green military uniform stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, a square blue and gold badge fixed to his chest.
Lightning cracked outside, throwing a brief flash across the glass and lighting up the gaunt reflection staring back at him.
Sharp cheekbones, deep-set eyes, ice blue and cold enough to cut through anyone unlucky enough to hold his gaze.
His mouth stayed pressed thin, no trace of warmth in it, his whole bearing carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed without question.
The door opened.
An Imperial officer stepped in.
“Admiral Tarkin.
I have an update on the Jedi matter.”
“A suspected Jedi escaped from Kessel.
Their ship took damage during the pursuit, so they can’t have gotten far.”
Wilhuff Tarkin turned to face him.
“Vice Admiral Rampart.
I trust you know what’s expected.”
Rampart’s eyes dropped instantly, careful not to meet that stare directly.
“An elite squadron is already in pursuit.
I won’t disappoint you.”
“It’s Empire, not Republic.”
Tarkin corrected him without much heat behind it.
The matter itself barely registered.
One fugitive Jedi wasn’t worth much of his attention.
His gaze settled back on Rampart.
“The Emperor’s directive matters.
But it isn’t the only thing that matters right now.”
Rampart hesitated.
“You mean…?”
Tarkin glanced sideways at him.
“Your military instincts are solid, Rampart.
Your loyalty isn’t in question.
The Chain Code initiative and the War Mantle proposal you’ve put forward both serve the Empire well.”
A pause.
He turned back toward the churning sea outside the window.
“But your strategic vision could use some sharpening.”
Rampart went quiet, working through the words.
There had to be more underneath them.
Kessel.
Something clicked behind his eyes as the meaning landed.
Set against a handful of fallen Jedi, that planet was worth infinitely more to the Empire’s future.
Kessel had gotten away with standing outside Republic law once.
That era was finished.
Conveniently, an excuse had just landed right in their lap.
He straightened and saluted, something like admiration in his eyes.
“Understood, Admiral.
Thank you for the correction.”
Tarkin gave a small nod of approval.
“Go.
See that it’s handled properly.”
Rampart saluted again, voice firm, a note of eagerness creeping in underneath.
“Yes, Admiral.”
On Saleucami, the N-1 sank slowly into the middle of the lake.
Lance watched the hull disappear beneath the surface, something reluctant tightening in his chest.
That fighter had flown as well as any Jedi starfighter he’d known.
“Patu, patu.”
Grogu reached a small hand toward the water, fingers open, as if trying to hold the ship back from going under.
Or maybe just saying goodbye.
Beside them, R4 gave off a low, mournful string of beeps.
For an astromech, losing a ship wasn’t so different from losing a job.
Lance rested a hand on Grogu’s head and looked toward the horizon, where the sun was already sliding low.
Not much daylight left.
The forest turned dangerous fast after dark.
They needed somewhere secure before then.
“Come on.
Let’s move.”
He tapped R4 once and set off, pack over one shoulder.
Beep beep.
R4’s photoreceptor swept the treeline as it rolled to catch up, jolting a little every time some distant roar carried through the brush.
A line of footprints trailed off from the lakeshore into the trees, R4’s tire marks alongside them.
The dense undergrowth slowed them down badly, partly the terrain itself, partly the effort of steering clear of whatever kept growling out there.
Walking a hundred kilometers to the nearest settlement on foot was never going to be easy, and the sky kept darkening the longer they went.
“We need shelter.
Now.”
Lance scanned the area; nothing but strange, column-shaped plants stretching in every direction.
No sign of any settlement, no obvious caves either.
He eyed a towering plant ahead, maybe a dozen meters tall, gathered the Force through his legs, and pushed off the ground hard.
He rose eight or nine meters in a single burst, kicked off a second plant, and landed at the top.
From there he pulled out a pair of electronic binoculars and scanned the surroundings.
A cave entrance sat a few miles out.
Caves out here usually meant something dangerous denned inside, but that wasn’t a luxury he could afford to worry about right now.
Hope it’s not a nexu in there.
He tucked Grogu close and dropped, letting the Force slow him right before impact, weight easing off his frame until his feet touched down as gently as stepping off a low curb.
A dozen meters felt like nothing.
Close to an hour later, full dark had settled in by the time they reached the cave.
A rank smell hung in the air well before they arrived.
Through the binoculars, he spotted droppings scattered near the entrance.
“That’s a problem.”
Grogu had clearly picked up on the danger too, burying his face against Lance’s chest, small body shaking.
Lance rubbed his back gently.
“Hey.
It’s okay.
You’re safe.”
He lowered the binoculars, jaw tight.
There wasn’t time to search for anywhere better, and no guarantee they’d find one even if they tried.
A few beasts weren’t going to be much trouble either way.
He crouched down and spoke softly.
“Grogu, can you wait here for me?
I’ll be quick.”
Grogu shook his head and refused to budge.
“Come on.
Be good, okay?”
Fighting with Grogu in his arms wasn’t an option, and Lance wasn’t foolish enough to assume a handful of predators would go down easily regardless.
If he got hurt with Grogu caught in the middle of it, that wasn’t something he’d forgive himself for.
It took some coaxing, but Grogu finally gave in.
Lance let out a quiet breath of relief.
He turned to R4.
“Watch him.
Keep him safe.”
Beep beep!
R4 answered by extending a pair of thin metal arms from its chassis, arcs of electricity flickering at the tips, more than ready to prove it meant business.
Lance chuckled, then tucked them both behind a large boulder, drew his lightsaber, and moved toward the cave mouth.
At the entrance, the dark stretched inward like the mouth of something far larger.
Strangely, the smell had vanished entirely, replaced by a faint, cool draft drifting out from deep inside, carrying with it the occasional drip of water somewhere unseen.
A decent shelter, if he could clear it first.
Which meant dealing with whatever was living in there.
He let the Force flood through him, senses sharpening past their normal limits, hearing catching sounds too faint to register a moment ago, vision cutting clean through the dark.
Strength, speed, reflexes, all of it spiking at once.
Through that heightened awareness, he felt it before he saw it: something crouched deep in the cave, radiating hunger and cunning and violence in equal measure, muscles coiled tight, ready to strike the instant he got close enough.
He tightened his grip on the hilt and let the Force pour into it.
Snap.
Hiss.
A blue blade snapped to life, edge glowing sharp in the dark.