Pain was my world when I woke, a dull hammer pounding my skull, my ribs a cage of fire from the scars of our assault for Vader's capture. The air stung my lungs, thick with the acrid bite of charred plastoid and ozone, the ghosts of blaster fire lingering in the twilight. My vision swam, a haze of gray and gold, until Juno's face sharpened into focus above me, her breath hitching as she pressed a damp cloth to my brow. Her hands trembled, calloused fingers slick with my blood, her eyes dark with a storm of worry and exhaustion. The Rebel outpost sprawled around us, its tents sagging under Dantooine's restless wind, durasteel barricades glinting faintly in the fading light. "Galen, stay with me," Juno whispered, her voice raw, fraying at the edges. Her blonde hair clung to her sweat-damp forehead, strands catching in the wind's restless tug. I tried to move, but my body betrayed me, ribs grinding with each shallow breath, the memory of a lightsaber's plasma slash burning fresh. My tongue felt thick, coated with dust and the copper tang of blood. I forced words through gritted teeth, each syllable a battle. "Vader… where is he?"
Her eyes flashed, a mix of frustration and fear. "Secure, for now. Locked in the brig, stun cuffs and all. But you're in no shape to fight." Her fingers tightened on the cloth, her gaze dropping to my chest, where blood seeped through my torn tunic, staining the fabric black in the dim light. "Look at yourself, you're bleeding. Rest, Galen. Please." I shook my head, defiance clawing through the fog in my mind. "He doesn't escape. Not again." The words burned, a vow forged in the ashes of my past, in the screams of Jedi I'd hunted for him, in the shadow of my father's death. Vader's presence pulsed in the Force, a dark tide lapping at the edges of my soul, mocking me even from his cell. I couldn't let him slip away, not after Kamino, not after I'd torn through his cloning labs and faced the lie of my own face in those tanks. Justice was a fire in my gut, and I'd choke on it before I let it die.
Juno's hand seized my arm, her touch a lifeline through the pain. "Galen, you're not thinking straight. That last mission nearly killed you. Let the guards handle it from here." Her voice cracked, and I saw it then, the weight she carried, the toll of standing by me through storms of blood and plasma. Her hands shook not just from fatigue but from the fear of losing me, a fear she'd never voice but wore in every line of her face. I wanted to listen, to sink into her warmth and let the galaxy burn without me, but the Force churned within, a tempest of rage and resolve. "I can't," I rasped, forcing myself to sit up. The world tilted, pain lancing through my ribs like a vibroblade, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through. My sabers lay beside me, their hilts cold against the dirt. I gripped them, the red one first, Vader's gift, its kyber crystal snarling a bitter dirge of my Sith years, a chain forged in the lives I'd reaped for him. Then the blue, my father's, reclaimed from his murderer's hoard on Kamino, its hilt carved with Kashyyyk's wroshyr vines, a beacon of defiance. Juno's breath caught, her hand falling away. "Galen…" But before she could finish, a low growl rumbled through the air, a predator's snarl that shook the ground beneath us. My heart kicked against my ribs, the Force sharpening my senses despite the pain.
I staggered to my feet, sabers gripped tight, their light painting the outpost in conflict as they flared to life. Rebel guards snapped to attention, blasters raised, their shouts swallowed by the wind as they scrambled toward the brig. The air thickened, charged with the promise of violence, and I knew: Someone was coming for him. "Stay here," I told Juno, my voice harder than I meant. She shook her head, rising beside me, her blaster already in hand. "Not a chance." Her defiance matched mine, a spark in the gathering dark, and I couldn't argue, not now. We moved together, my steps uneven, pain a vise around my chest. The outpost hummed with panic, tents flapping like wounded birds, durasteel barricades gleaming dully under the last of the twilight. Ancient ruins loomed at the camp's edge, their weathered stones whispering of forgotten wars, their shadows stretching long and hungry.
The brig sat at the outpost's heart, a squat durasteel bunker reinforced with blast doors. Rebel soldiers flanked it, their blasters trained on the entrance, faces pale but resolute. Vader was inside, shackled in stun cuffs, a prize we'd bled for. I felt him through the Force, a cold void, his presence a taunt even in chains. The guards parted for us, their eyes flickering with hope and fear. "He's secure, sir," one said, a young Twi'lek, her lekku twitching. I nodded, my sabers humming in my fists. "Hold the line. No one gets in." My voice carried a weight I didn't feel, the pain in my ribs a constant reminder of my limits. Juno stayed close, her blaster steady, her breath quick and shallow.
Then it came, a blast that tore the world apart. The explosion roared through the outpost, a tide of fire and steel shredding tents and barricades. The shockwave hit me like a fist, hurling me back, my sabers winking out as I slammed into a pile of rubble. My vision blackened, ears ringing with the storm's fury, the air choking with smoke and the copper tang of blood. Juno's scream cut through the din, sharp as a vibroblade to my heart. "Galen!" I forced my eyes open, the world a blur of ash and flame. My sabers lay scattered in the dirt, their hilts glinting in the firelight. I crawled toward them, ribs screaming, blood seeping through my tunic, each breath a knife in my chest. Juno was beside me, her face smudged with soot, her blaster still clutched tight. "You're alive," she gasped, her hand gripping my shoulder, steadying me. "Stay down!"
But I couldn't. Through the swirling smoke, I glimpsed him: Boba Fett, his Mandalorian armor glinting cold and merciless as he strode toward the brig. His blaster carbine spat plasma bolts, each shot precise, searing through Rebel guards who crumpled into sizzling husks. His jetpack flared, propelling him over a barricade, wrist rockets shrieking as they blasted the brig's blast doors into twisted slag. Vader's presence surged in the Force, a dark pulse of triumph, and I knew Fett was freeing him. Rage flooded me, drowning the pain. I seized my sabers while standing to my feet, igniting them with a roar, red and blue flaring in the haze. The red blade snarled, its light casting blood-red shadows across the ruins, a beast heavy with Vader's chains. The blue hummed steady, my father's light cutting through the chaos, a defiant note in the storm.
I charged, boots slipping in the mire of blood and oil, each step a war against my breaking body. Juno shouted behind me, "Galen, no!" but her voice was distant, swallowed by the fire in my veins. Fett's helmet turned, his visor locking onto me, a predator sizing up prey. "Stay out of this, Jedi," he called, his voice flat, amplified through his helm. "This is between me and my client." His carbine snapped up, a plasma bolt sizzling past my ear, scorching the air. I twisted, the Force guiding my movements, and deflected another with my blue saber, the bolt ricocheting into a tent that erupted in flames. "Vader faces justice!" I roared, my voice raw, the words tearing from my throat. I lunged, my red saber slashing in a brutal arc, but Fett was faster, his jetpack flaring as he dodged, the blade carving only air. Pain lanced through my ribs, slowing me, my vision blurring with sweat and blood.
Another explosion rocked the outpost, Fett's hidden bombs detonating in a cascade of fire and shrapnel. The ground bucked beneath me, and I stumbled, my sabers dimming as I fought to stay upright. Juno caught up, her blaster firing, bolts sparking off Fett's armor. "Galen, you're hurt!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "Let it go!" But I couldn't, Vader's shadow loomed in the Force, his escape a wound I couldn't bear. I pressed forward, slashing through debris, my sabers' light cutting through the smoke. Fett reached his cell, his wrist torch flaring as he melted Vader's stun cuffs. The Sith Lord rose, his black armor gleaming in the firelight, his presence a cold void that sucked the air from my lungs.
"Fett," Vader intoned, his voice a mechanical rasp, "you took your time." "The Empire pays for results, not punctuality," Fett replied, his tone clipped, already moving toward the exit. His ship hovered above, its cannons roaring, plasma bolts tearing through what remained of the outpost. Rebels screamed, their blasters useless against the ship's onslaught, bodies piling in the dirt. I roared, the Force surging through me, and hurled the Force at Fett. The blast caught a durasteel crate, sending it crashing toward him, but he sidestepped, his jetpack flaring as he rose into the air. "Persistent, aren't you?" he taunted, firing a wrist rocket that screamed toward me. I dove, the explosion blooming behind me, heat searing my back as shrapnel grazed my arm, blood welling fresh.
Juno grabbed my wrist, her grip fierce, her eyes wild with fear. "Galen, stop! You'll die!" Her voice cracked, her love a tether pulling me back from the abyss. I froze, my sabers trembling in my fists, the red blade's weight a chain I couldn't shed, the blue's glow a fading echo of my father's strength. Vader's silhouette moved through the smoke, Fett at his side, their steps unhurried, mocking my failure. His ship descended, its ramp lowering, cannons thundering to cover their escape. I swung my sabers in futile arcs, their light swallowed by the ship's glare, my legs buckling as pain overwhelmed me. "No!" I screamed, my voice lost in the roar of engines. The ship lifted off, Fett and Vader vanishing into the dusk, their silhouettes fading in a haze of smoke and fire.
I sank to my knees, blood pooling beneath me, the red saber's hum a bitter dirge, the blue a faint whisper of hope snuffed out. Juno knelt beside me, her hands cupping my face, her touch warm against the cold seeping into my bones. "Galen, we're alive," she said, her voice steady despite the tears streaking her soot-smudged cheeks. "That's enough for now." She hauled me up, her grip fierce yet tender, her strength anchoring me as the outpost burned around us. Rebel survivors stumbled through the wreckage, their faces hollow, hope fraying like the tattered tents in the wind. "We're leaving," Juno said, her tone leaving no room for argument. I nodded, too broken to speak, my gaze fixed on the sky where Fett and Vader vanished. My sabers hung heavy as I clasped them to my belt.
We limped away from the ruins, the wind carrying the stench of death and plasma, Dantooine's plains swallowing the last of the twilight. Vader's escape was a wound that would fester, a taunt that would haunt me through years of storm and shadow. My ribs ached, my blood stained the earth, but Juno's hand in mine was a tether, a reason to keep fighting, even as hope bled out in the dusk. The outpost was a graveyard by the time we reached the camp's edge, its tents reduced to smoldering husks, durasteel barricades twisted like broken bones. Rebel survivors moved like ghosts, their blasters slung low, their eyes hollow with defeat. I leaned on Juno, each step a battle, my blood staining her sleeve. The red saber's kyber crystal pulsed faintly, a bitter echo of the Sith I'd been, while the blue, my father's, hummed with a quiet strength, a promise I wasn't sure I could keep.
The wind howled across the plains, carrying the distant rumble of thunder, as if Dantooine itself mourned our loss. Juno's hand tightened on mine, her warmth cutting through the cold seeping into my bones. "We'll come back stronger," she said, her voice firm, a captain's resolve despite the exhaustion etched into her face. I wanted to believe her, to cling to the spark of hope she carried, but Vader's presence lingered in the Force, a dark tide that threatened to drown us all. I paused, turning back to the burning outpost, the flames casting flickering shadows across the ruins. A Rebel patch on a fallen soldier's sleeve caught my eye, torn and scorched in the dirt, a symbol of the hope we'd fought for, now trampled under Fett's boots. My chest tightened, the weight of failure a stone I couldn't shift. "He's gone," I whispered, the words bitter on my tongue.
Juno's fingers brushed my cheek, forcing me to meet her gaze. "You fought, Galen. That's more than most could do." Her eyes held mine, fierce and unyielding, a light in the gathering dark. I tried to nod, to hold onto her words, but my vision blurred, the world tilting as pain and blood loss clawed at me. I blinked, if only for a moment, expecting the firelight to steady, Juno's face to anchor me. But time slipped, the blackness rushing in, not a brief flutter I expected but something more permanent.
My eyelids flutter open. The harsh lights above still blinding me, but I see: her alien blue face taut with focus, and another, her eyes scanning a holographic display that felt familiar yet alien. My chest heaves, each breath a struggle against the weight of my bones. I try to speak, but my throat is dry, the words caught like ash. "He's conscious," the woman with the display said, her tone steady but tinged with awe. The other, a human, adjusts a panel, her movements precise. "Hold him steady, blood pressure is spiking." My eyes float to the blinding light that floats above, drowning out both of the women's faces.