Someone There - SpiritCat179 - Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order Series (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

The first time it happened, Cere knew she was walking down a dangerous path. She kept replaying in her head the moment she watched Cal jump out of the Mantis to take down an AT-AT. The smile on his face when he asked BD if he was ready for a swim. The look he’d given her when she’d asked him to stay alive. It had only been a few days since picking Cal up from Bracca, and she was still struck by just how young he was. For the most part, it was easy to forget. He was eager to prove himself, to complete the mission and follow Cordova’s path. It was ultimately what she was asking of him, and so she forced herself to dismiss the moments in which he reminded her so much of Trilla.

Trilla had been just as eager to prove herself to Cere, always throwing her everything into whatever obstacle was placed before her. Something Cere had always loved about her former padawan was now one of the things she feared about her the most. Seeing Trilla on Bracca had shaken her more than she cared to admit, but she pushed those feelings down in order to focus on Cal. From the moment he arrived on the Mantis , lightsaber still ignited and held in front of him like a shield, and despite having cut herself off from the Force, she could feel the anxiety and fear pulsating off of him in waves. His feelings were so strong, so jumbled, she wouldn’t be surprised if Greez had felt it as well. It made her heart ache for this boy she had only just met. Just getting him to holster his weapon and directing him to get some rest had been a task. He hadn’t trusted her and neither did she trust him. How could she when he was still so young? Without asking, it was obvious he had still been a padawan when the war had ended, and she hated to think what he had gone through during Order 66 that had resulted in his ending up on Bracca.

“If the kid’s jumped then close the door! We don’t need you falling out as well!” Greez’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she quickly pressed a button next to the bulkhead causing it to hiss close.

“Did he make it?” she asked, coming back into the co*ckpit and taking her seat.

“How should I know?” replied Greez. “I can’t believe the kid actually jumped,” he continued. “He doesn’t have much sense of self-preservation does he?” Cere ignored him, wasting no time tuning into the Imperial network on the ground to listen out for any sign of Cal. Greez didn’t appear to notice and continued, “I mean, Bracca can’t have exactly been a pleasant experience for him. Kriff only knows what sort of contract he must have signed with the Guild down there. And he was more than ready to throw himself to the Empire on Zeffo–”

“Captain, please!” Cere said finally, not wanting to admit to herself that Greez was right, but also trying to focus on the task at hand. She breathed a sigh of relief when she picked up chatter about an AT-AT firing upon their own troops.

“He made it,” she said, loudly enough that Greez would hear her, but mostly to reassure herself that Cal was okay. She had managed to get him to eat something and take a nap while they had travelled from Bogano to Kashyyyk, but he had been so keyed up she doubted he’d gotten much sleep at all.

Setting the Mantis down in the midst of destruction had not exactly been planned, and she was more relieved than she allowed herself to admit when she saw an uninjured Cal walking towards them. He introduced them to Saw Garrera, and she didn’t miss the way his voice shook when explaining his lightsaber had once belonged to his master. She hadn’t pressed on the ship when Cal had said he didn’t want to talk about it, his grief still etched all over his face. She was glad to see he was still able to talk about his master in passing.

Cere tried to school her features into not showing her concern when Saw asked Cal to join them in freeing the wookies. Logically she knew it was the right course of action, given they needed to find Tarrful as quickly as possible, but still, she didn’t like the way Cal’s face lit up by the idea someone might need him. Staying behind on the Mantis with Greez had been the right call, though she spent those first few hours tense as she poured over the comms, listening for any sign of Cal or if something had gone wrong.

“Anything?” asked Greez, coming up behind her where she was sitting at the comms. Cere shook her head.

“No,” she said, frustration evident in her voice. “Although I suppose no news is probably good news in this case.” She glanced at Greez, an uneasy look on his face she was sure mirrored her own.

“I just don’t like the idea of sending the kid out there on his own,” he said finally. “I mean, he must be, what, nineteen? Twenty at the most?”

“More like eighteen.” Cere pushed herself away from the comms desk, standing up and throwing down her headset. She ran her hands over her face, trying to clear her mind while Greez had an appropriate freakout beside her.

“He’s only eighteen ?”

“Legally an adult on most planets,” she said, pushing past the Latero and making her way through to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Look, Cere,” said Greez who had followed her. “When you said we were picking up a Jedi on Bracca for this secret mission of yours, I assumed they’d be older. Maybe wearing a robe with a long beard or something. At the very least I figured they’d be around your age. But eighteen ? That’s–”

“That’s what?” Cere slammed the glass onto the counter, grateful when it didn’t break. Greez appeared startled by her outburst but remained silent. He seemed to understand he’d hit a nerve. “Greez, I’m sorry,” she began taking a step towards him. Greez held up an arm to stop her.

“It’s fine, Cere,” he said. “I’m going to check on the landing gear. It’s been on the fritz ever since Zeffo.” He left without another word, down onto the landing pad below. She could smell the smoke wafting in from the destruction the conflict between the Empire and the Partisans had left behind, trying not to think too hard about the damage that was being done to Kashyyyk.

Cere sighed, running a hand over her face trying to calm her nerves. She wasn’t even sure why she felt so restless. They’d been searching for a Jedi for so long, but she’d never fully allowed herself to think about what would happen if the one she found had never finished their training, let alone one with a damaged connection to the Force. In many ways, Cal was still a Padawan, and though he had tried to hide it in the short time he’d been with them, it was becoming clearer the more she got to know him.

This lifestyle suits you.

Her own words were coming back to haunt her. She had already lost one padawan and the thought of losing Cal–

“No.” She spoke the word aloud to the empty room, glad for the moment that Greez was outside. Not allowing her thoughts to wander any further, for fear of them wandering too far in a direction she would prefer not to follow, she returned to the comms and listened carefully for any sign that the Empire was closing in on the Partisans.

“ Alert all units. Mayday mayday. Assistance required at the Imperial Refinery. Possible prison break in progress .”

“ Copy that. Reinforcements on route .”

“Kriff!” Cere banged her fists hard on the console. The Empire knew about Saw’s plan to rescue the wookies. And if they knew about the Partisans…

She hesitated a moment, before opening the comms channel with Cal.

“Still alive in there?” she asked, keeping her tone light. No need to alarm him.

The comms were silent for a beat and she held her breath, images flashing through her mind before she could stop them. Cal, shot dead by a trooper with a lucky aim. Cal, body broken and battered on the floor after taking a tumble from a cliff. Cal, poisoned by a Wyyyschokk, unable to move. The images flashed by, faster and faster until she saw Trilla, standing before a group of younglings huddled together in a cave trying to stay warm. Trilla, her lightsaber trembling out in front of her as she tried to put on a brave face. Trilla, face contorted in pain as her mind was shattered and put back together. Trilla–

Cal’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife, catapulting her back to the present. “So far,” he said. If he had any fear he was doing a good job at hiding it. “Almost to the prison.”

She nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Good,” she said. “Imperial distress calls are going out across the planet. If you don’t get to the prisoners soon…” she trailed off, unwilling to finish her sentence.

“We can do this. I promise.” Despite his words, Cere could hear the ever so subtle tremor in his voice. There was truth to what he was saying. He really did believe he and BD would be able to pull this off, of that she was sure. But the way he had said I promise … that she didn’t like. It was so vulnerable, more vulnerable than she’d heard him sound before. She didn’t think he even realised he was doing it, but as a former master herself, she recognised it immediately. It was how a padawan spoke to their master.

How many times had she heard that same waiver in Trilla’s voice? Seeking reassurance from someone older, someone wiser they were doing the right thing. She realised with a start she’d been silent too long, and by now Cal was likely to be knee deep in stormtroopers while he fought to get the wookies released. Not wanting to distract him, she switched comm channels back to the Imps, listening in on their chatter with the intent of warning Cal should it look like there was going to be trouble.

She needn’t have worried, as not long after their conversation did the Imperial chatter go silent, and she knew Cal had succeeded in assisting the Partisans with their mission. Smiling, she went to remove her headset but stopped when a voice came floating through.

“Is this Cere of the Stinger Mantis ?”

“Depends,” Cere replied warily. “Who is this?”

“Right, sorry.” Cere could just make out the distinct chatter of wookies from behind whoever was speaking, and quickly assumed whoever was contacting her was most likely one of the Partisans. “My name is Mari Kosan. I understand you arrived here with the Jedi?”

Cere’s heart sank. Her throat tightened, and she could barely get out the words, “yes, that’s right.” Those same images started to flash before her eyes, and her palms gripped the console a little tighter as she waited with bated breath to hear what Mari had to say.

“Cal mentioned you were looking for Tarrful. I’m sorry to say, he wasn’t amongst the prisoners rescued.”

Upon hearing those words, Cere found herself breathing a little easier. Not finding Tarrful was definitely a blow, but knowing Cal was safe and likely on his way back to them was enough for now.

“Thank you, Mari. For letting us know,” she said.

Mari signed off after confirming Cal should be back on the Mantis anytime now. Cere removed the headset and laid it gingerly on the console, before making her way down the ramp and onto the platform. Greez was standing a few feet away, tinkering with the landing gear that was indeed still spitting sparks.

“Ah kriff!” she heard as she approached him. One of the sparks had hit him in the face, and he’d dropped the screwdriver he’d been holding.

“Everything okay, Captain?”

Greez looked up at her, rubbing his cheek where he’d been hit.

“Oh just dandy,” he said, the sarcasm coming off him in waves. She bent down to pick up the screwdriver, then sighed as she held it out to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Greez stared at her for a moment before taking the tool and shrugging. “Forget about it,” he said. “We landed in a pretty tense situation. Besides,” he paused, twirling the screwdriver in his hand absent-mindedly, “I know we haven’t really known Cal all that long… but it seems to me like when the kid puts his mind to something he wants to see it through. There’d be no talking him out of it.”

“No,” agreed Cere. “He was a padawan during the Clone Wars, forced to grow up quickly and asked to fight long before he was ready. Not to mention the last five years on Bracca wouldn’t have been easy for him.”

Greez looked as though he wanted to say something more, but was stopped when the sound of something large hitting the platform came from the direction Cal had disappeared hours earlier. They both turned to look, and Cere couldn’t help the relief washing over her when she recognised the bright-orange hair emerging from the tram. Cal beamed at them as he walked quickly across the landing pad.

“Cal, good to see you back in one piece,” Cere said when he stood in front of them. “Mari contacted us. We know you couldn’t find Tarrful.” She watched his reaction carefully, but if he was disappointed he didn’t show it.

“I love risking our lives for nothing. It’s fantastic,” added Greez.

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Cal said quickly. “Mari and Choyyssyk will come through.”

It didn’t escape Cere’s notice that he was quick to defend his actions.

“I like your optimism,” she said, though she didn’t for a second believe he was being anything other than defensive. “We could all use a little of that now and then.”

Cal’s face broke into a grin at her words, but it didn’t mask the fatigue she could see creeping into his features. She ran her eyes over him, and didn’t see any obvious signs of injury, but made a mental note to check him over on their way to Zeffo.

“Hey, I’m a positive guy, too. I’m positive that if I die, I’ll be very upset.” Cere glanced at Greez, wishing he would stop talking. They didn’t need to be talking about dying around Cal if they could help it.

“Beeeop!” BD agreed with her, and she was suddenly glad Greez couldn’t understand binary.

“You did good, Cal,” she said, turning her attention back to him. “We might not’ve found Tarrful yet, but you saved lives today. Don’t forget that.”

“Thanks.” Cal grinned at her again before brushing past her and walking up the ramp into the Mantis . She didn’t miss the way he cradled his arm close to his chest as soon as he thought he was out of sight, and knew she was right in wanting to check him over. She caught Greez giving her side-eye.

“Do you have something you would like to say, Captain?” she asked, challenging him. Greez looked as though he wanted to give her a piece of his mind, but ultimately decided against it.

“I’m going to get us in the air,” he said, and followed Cal into the ship without another word. Cere sighed but didn’t waste anytime in joining them. She closed the door behind her, and headed for the co*ckpit. Both Greez and Cal were already waiting, and they took off practically the second she sat down. Once they made the jump to hyperspace, Cere gestured for Cal to join her out in the lounge.

“Sit,” she said, as she went to grab the medkit from the fresher.

“I’m fine, Cere,” said Cal when he saw what she was carrying. “I swear I would have told you if I was hurt.”

She raised an eyebrow, knowing full well he was lying. “Humour me.”

He looked at her warily, and she could practically see him weighing up what to say in his mind. After a few moments, he pulled up his sleeve and held his arm out to her. It was covered in bruises but apart from that it didn’t appear to be too bad. She didn’t think he’d broken it, but kept her touches light just in case.

Cere worked in silence, pretending not to notice as Cal winced and looked away whenever she accidentally pressed too hard. The longer they sat, the more she could see fatigue clouding his features. He slumped further down into his seat and blinked heavily. She was just about ready to suggest he head off to bed when he spoke.

“Saw asked me to join his Partisans.” His voice was low, and she lowered hers to match.

“Oh?” She focused on rubbing bacta gel on his arm, not wanting to spook him.

“He said they could use a Jedi to fight with them. That I could do something to make a real difference against the Empire.” He paused, and she was struck by a sudden urge to pull him into her arms and tell him everything was going to be okay, the way she had done for Trilla the night before Cere had been captured by the Empire and tortured into giving her up.

“Did you want to stay and fight with the Partisans?” she asked.

Cal was silent, gazing unseeing at his arm. She finished with the gel and gave him a pat, letting his arm fall to the couch between them.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it,” he said slowly, making her realise he may not have admitted this even to himself prior to now. “But this? Getting the holocron, rebuilding the Jedi Order? This is too important to give up on.”

“It is important,” agreed Cere. “But you have a choice in all of this, Cal. No one is forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do, me included.”

Cal met her gaze for the first time since sitting down, unasked questions reflected in his eyes. She hated to think she had been the one who put them there.

“Thanks,” he said. “But I do want to do this. I promise.”

Cere didn’t push. Cal was only just beginning to trust her, and she was already keeping too many secrets from him.

“Why don’t you grab something to eat and then go to bed,” she suggested. “It’ll be a while before we make it back to Zeffo, and you look like you could use the rest. I’ll have Greez cook something hearty for when you wake up.”

Cal nodded, before standing up and going to the kitchen to grab a ration bar. She watched him disappear into the hallway before letting her head fall into her hands. She didn’t doubt Cal meant what he said, and she believed in time he would be able to repair his connection to the Force, but she hadn’t banked on picking up a traumatised teenager. She knew she would have to tell him about Trilla eventually, she just didn’t know how.

“The kid okay?” Greez’s voice startled her. She jumped, eyes frantically darting around the room until they landed on the sheepish looking Captain in front of her. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it.” She moved over, allowing him to sit beside her. “We set for Zeffo?”

Greez nodded. “We should be there in a day or so. You should probably take your own advice, though, and get some rest.”

“Probably,” agreed Cere. “Cal’s strong,” she said after a moment in answer to his question. “He can handle this.”

“I didn’t ask if he could handle it. I asked if he was okay.” Greez gave her an exasperated look which she understood to mean Cal had gotten under his skin. A feeling she knew all too well.

“He’s as okay as he can be,” she said. “I think he’s still getting used to other people having his back. It must be a long time since he’s had that.” She covered her mouth with a hand, stifling a yawn. She hadn’t realised just how tired she was, how tired they all must be. Kashyyyk hadn’t been easy on any of them. Her worry for Cal having taken more out of her than she cared to admit.

It was a few hours later before she finally stumbled towards her bunk. She and Greez had stayed awake to plan out the best course of action once they got to Zeffo, knowing Cal would be in the firing line and wanting to know how to best support him with whatever it was he may need.

As she approached the door to her bunk, ready to collapse onto her cot and pass out for a few hours before the day cycle started, she heard it. A noise so quiet she probably would have missed it had Trilla not made the same sound whenever she was having a nightmare. She paused, waiting to hear the whimper again. All she could hear was the gentle hum of the engines as the Mantis flew through hyperspace, and the quiet snores of Greez coming from his own bunk.

When she didn’t hear it again, she opened her door and got ready for bed, changing into a pair of shorts and a simple grey shirt. Cere climbed onto her cot, but before sleep could take her, she heard Cal pleading with someone. In an instant she was out of the room and making a beeline for the engine room. The door was open and she hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold to see Cal curled up on his cot, arms wrapped around his torso, face contorted in the throws of a nightmare. He hadn’t even taken off his boots before falling asleep.

“Master, please, no–”

Cere knelt down next to the cot and reached her hand out to Cal, hovering over his head but not quite touching him. She didn’t want to startle him awake. His connection to the force may be damaged, but she knew from experience that being force-pushed hurt, and the engine room wasn’t so big she wouldn’t be slammed into the wall opposite should Cal wake up and not know where he was.

“Stop! Please–I’m sorry!” Tears slipped down his cheeks and Cere couldn’t watch him suffer any longer. She dropped her hand gently onto his head and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. He shook, his head twitching as he tried to escape from whatever nightmare had him in its clutches. She ran his fingers through his hair, shushing him, hoping to calm him down. Her other hand moved to rub circles onto his shoulder.

“You’re okay, Cal,” she said softly. “You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you here.”

Cal continued to whimper, and her heart broke. How many nights had he cried like this on Bracca with no one to comfort him? The Jedi Order had asked him to grow up too fast by joining the war, and the galaxy forced him to be alone.

Eventually his whimpers ceased and his face relaxed in what she hoped was a dreamless sleep. Regardless, Cere kept carding her fingers through his hair, unwilling to leave him alone. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but when she finally stood to return to her own bunk her legs were numb.

As she climbed onto her cot, her last thoughts before passing out were of Cal, and her resolve to protect him from anything, even from the nightmares.