Chapter Text
The Jedi were no longer the warriors they once were. Now, they were being hunted down- some even for sport.
That was what the Shaper learned the hard way. She was currently lying low against the grass, breathing softly, willing the air to inflate her lungs. She closed her eyes and exhaled the air, chest deflating ash she rolled onto her stomach, slowly pushing herself up on her arms and toes. Her hand tugged her gaiter up over her mouth and nose, moving off in a quick run through the high, wet grass.
The rain moved quicker, and she ran through, feet making the slightest splashes in the storm. She felt the heat of the blaster fire whiz over her, and she dropped and skidded along the mud, her clothes soaked and caked in mud. It was a good thing that she didn’t care too much about the clothes- she borrowed them from a neighbor before going on the run. As she ran, she ducked down and ran her hand over the water’s gathering surface, gathering it in a bulbous puddle stalking after her, slowly, collecting every drop.
Clenching her fist tightly, she grasped the water into a ball, feeling the very life within it- the midi-chlorins pulsating with vivacity. A bright red bolt moved towards her, and she turned, casting the orb of water in the direction of the shot. Her eyes were hot- they had been open for so long. When had she last slept?
Her legs refused to give as she kept running. The woods- that place would either save her or doom her, but it was a chance she was willing to take.
Blaster shots came from the woods, too. Kriff. She skidded to a stop, raising her hands and drawing in a breath, the wind with her. It ripped through the open battleground, tearing up strands of wet grass with it. The force came back to her, like flexing a sore muscle. She had left the order long ago, but her force abilities had been revealed helping a friend.
That friend betrayed her. Never again.
She groaned softly, moving forward, calling her wind-wall with her. It was quite weak, as she had abandoned her Shaper life long ago as a wily and eager youth. Perhaps the spirit of the force had not called to her like her family, but the life of serving clients with her force abilities was not the desire of her heart. A half normal life was all she craved.
And now she was getting shot at. So, life was like… a quarter normal. Her fingers reached out, tugging a break in her wall, and yanking a blaster towards her. She sprung forward, grasping it in her hands, shooting down at the man below her.
She continued running, skidding between the tall trees, the bark crumbling as plasma hit and singed them. She let out a yell, ducking around the tree, shooting at every shadow that moved. Her energy was waning. She needed shelter and rest, then food.
A voice rang out, damp as the rain. One man- whom she recognized as the bounty hunter, the older one who frequented the bar and drunkenly retelling the same far-fetched tales about all the targets he had hauled in for money. “Come on, Jedi,” He crooned, creeping through the woods. “Give yourself up. It’ll be easier.”
Time to find out what truth was in those tales.
She reached up and called to the force. It tugged through her, gripping the above branches and shaking them, calling down more rain. She stood at full height, compressing the water tightly, and pressing it forward. Her biceps strained, arms burning.
The army of droplets propelled at the hunters and hit them full force, knocking some back. If she could prove herself simply a difficult catch, many of them would simply give up. She didn’t have the desire to take lives today, or tomorrow, or ever again. But, if she had to, she would. Grunting with effort, she turned and ran, weaving under the thick ferns and panting. She would wear out soon.
Silently, she cursed herself for not exercising her force abilities. Shapers were known warriors, not Jedi, but these back-water outer rim folk wouldn’t know the difference. The Empire was paying good money for force users of any kind- quite a bit for the living, and more for the dead. What would her parents say, seeing her run away from this danger? In fear? Her chest was tight. Breathing was getting hard. She reached up and grabbed the thick fern, steadying it, holding her breath as she heard the group of hunters sprint by whispering orders to one another, their words blending with the rain.
A soft groan emitted from her, and she rolled over, allowing the rain to roll down her cheeks as she laid against the mud. She attempted to fight sleep, and she felt the heavy leaves crowd around her and she could no longer fight the warmth of slumber, knowing the storm and darkness would protect her.
___
Hunter had never thought he would bring a kid to a bar. However, it was the only place on this podunk planet that had food, and he doubted the high and mighty fresh minted Imperial troops would step foot in here.
Omega shuffled in her seat next to him, looking up at the various species in the bar. ‘I’ve never seen so many different kinds of people in one place at once.”
“You have, we just haven’t been able to lay low for so long.” Hunter sipped from his bowl, casting a warning glare at Wrecker, who was slurping his soup. ‘Don’t stare, Omega. It’s rude.”
“Sorry.” Her eyes snapped up to him, and she offered an apologetic smile and reached for her own bowl, mimicking Hunter.
“So, just planet-hopping and laying low?” Echo murmured, spooning his broth into his mouth softly. He was keeping his prosthetic arm under his poncho, and his cybernetic implants concealed with the raised hood. “That’s what we’re doing?”
“It’s the smartest thing to do,” Tech’s tone edged on the threat of a debate, and he grabbed a napkin and wiped up where some broth had splashed. With a slight grimace, he discarded the napkin in the middle of the table. “If we keep moving, they’ll be less likely to track us.” He glanced around. “Rainy place, isn’t it?”
Wrecker plunked down his bowl. “I’m sick of the rain,” He murmured (although murmur was a stretch, his whisper was regularly considered speaking at a normal volume for any other person).
“I know,” Hunter shook his head softly, running a hand in his hair. “But we need to give the ship a break, get some extra parts. Some rations.”
“Weapons?” Wrecker perked up. “Do we need weapons?”
“Trust me, we’re good on weapons.” Tech drew in a breath as the doors of the establishment slammed open. A group of men and women sputtered in, spewing curses and shaking mud from their clothes.
“... damned Jedi outrunnin’ everyone! Rotten, every last of ‘em.”
“I brought in a Jedi once-”
Hunter’s ears perked up. Jedi.
And on the run, too. Possibly partial to the cause, fleeing the Empire. He stood as the group was fussing at the braggart, waving over the barkeeper.
“Where are you going?” Omega sat up, eyes trained on Hunter. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine, Omega,” Hunter reached down and gently patted her shoulder. “I’m just going to get a drink.” He frowned at Wrecker. “Yes, I am going to eat that still.” Ignoring the tank’s groans, he moved towards where the group was settling in at the bar and leaned on the wood, exhaling softly. “One.” He said softly, and the keep slid him a glass. “Something strong.”
His ears ringing, tensing in on the nearby group. He felt their gaze, pressing on the tattoo over half his face. He felt his lip draw into a grin, and the tinnitus stopped, withdrawing from the group’s silence. “Something up?” He took a sip and nodded at the bar keeper.
“Naw, nothing.” A female guffawed, grabbing the bottle from the counter. “Just look like a tough guy.”
“I’m tough enough to take on anyone.” He paused, lips brushing the rim of the glass. “Even a Jedi.”
The silence was suddenly oppressive. Almost a physical entity within the room.
Slowly, the larger man, the braggart, moved towards him. “Yeah, you look real tough,” He said. “All battered. Have… I seen you?”
“No.” Hunter set down the now empty glass. “Pretty sure I would remember a batch of tough guys.” He extended a hand subtly to his side, waving down his own brothers (and Omega… sister?) to peace and settle down.
The silence almost enveloped him, and his hand moved quicker than his mind. His fingers grasped at the arm behind him, and, without much strain, he hauled the Weequay reaching for him over his head and onto the bar. He growled, knocking the scrappy knife from the perp’s other hand. “Now,” he said, tossing the knife away, skidding it onto the floor by his own little group, who were rising and moving towards him. “I heard you mention a Jedi.”
___
The shaper sat up, the water shifting around her. Something was wrong.
She rose slowly, inhaling again, filling her body with life. All she really wanted was a quiet life. She just had to be a compassionate person and save her friend, didn’t she?
She edged to the corner of the fern, the water droplets trembling on the plants as if begging to be drunk. Her throat cried in protest, but she resisted, kneading her fingers into the soft mud. Why had she abandoned the force?
A whisper brushed past her. A sensation from long ago, as if yearning to unlock a familiar sensation inside of her that she had not known for a long time. It was impressive she had remembered even her most basic training and had barely scraped by yesterday. Would she be able to hold on for yet another day?
She stood quietly, head brushing against the wide leaves, and inhaled. The water was the most palpable thing for the time being. Her eyes were oppressed by the layer of fog, and she groaned softly. She flexed her fingers, mind and body straining with effort, and she tried to move the fog. Fog was simply water, after all.
“Ugh,” She abandoned the effort, opting instead for ducking back down. If she stayed low, she would have no need for trying to command the water. Shapers were aggressive about their methods, but she had never felt the… need? Yes, she decided. Need felt correct.
She moved low, ignoring the mud clutching her clothes, cracking as she moved through the ground. The water continued to trickle, plitter softly against the nature around her.
She glanced behind her, wading directly ahead, swiveling her- A painful pang in her forehead interrupted her thought, her meditation. “Augh!” She sat up on her knees, reaching up and pressing her hands against the crown of her head, sucking in a pained breath through her teeth. “Damned tree.”
“Sorry,” The tree apologized sheepishly.
Her eyes opened and she stared up. A man- a giant, really, rubbed his arm and grinned, leaning down and offering a hand. “Didn’t mean to. We didn’t see ya crawling.”
Her eyes darted between the group of men, taking in their features. Broad noses, dark eyes, the same jaw. Clones. The empire. Her lungs tightened again. “I- you-”
“Seen any Jedi around here?” The large man asked, cracking his fist. “We need to talk to ‘em.”
The man with the long hair, and the inked face, stepped forward. “Wrecker-”
Her hands raised, and the mud moved, splattering them. She turned and ran, gasping for air. Her body felt warm and chilled, from panic, fear, and just.. Exhaustion. “No,” She gasped, stumbling as she glanced back.
“Hey! Miss!” The inked man raced after her.
“Never!” She yelled, diving into the ferns again. Not this way. Mama and Papa would be so man, so so mad-
She managed to crawl a few feet before her body became numb and gave in. She groaned and collapsed against the ground, face plopping into a puddle of mud. Perhaps she would get lucky and drown.
The last thing the shaper was aware of was someone lifting her and fighting the little resistance she gave, and the larger man arguing with the shortest man in glasses. “Well, I didn’t mean to scare her!”