Chapter 19Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The hit gored into Quinlan's side, just milliseconds before she severed the tail. Blood flew, and Botan landed down hard in the middle of the lizards, bleeding from her shoulder and arm and panting through the pain. She held her saber ready as Quinlan staggered to his feet, and looked over the lizards. One of them was missing an eye from Quinlan's quick saber work, and a second was missing a leg. Sparks were flying from the mechanic pieces, and Botan flipped her saber around backhanded and dropped into a crouch.
"Alright, now that you've finally decided to join us," Quinlan said cheerfully. "Touch their minds."
Botan gave him an incredulous look, bleeding all over her robes and a mess, and he just kept smiling, though his smile was tinted with pain. He was bleeding sluggishly, and all she could see when she looked at him was a bullet hole. He was too young for that sort of thing.
"Go on. Touch their minds," Quinlan encouraged, and she looked back at the creatures circling them. She knew the theory of this, but she couldn't believe he was doing this right now.
Slowly, she reached out with her bleeding arm and stretched out her fingers. They were afraid, and in pain, she recognized as she skirted the edges of their minds. They were hurting from the implants and electrical shocks, made to make them more aggressive, more feral. Their tails hurt awfully from the spikes that had been bored into their flesh without anesthesia, and she sent a press of effort to them.
It's alright, she soothed, and they growled lowly, shaking their heads like angry, confused dogs.
"That's it," Quinlan said encouragingly, and she wondered why she was doing this when they were going to blow up the facility anyways and kill them with it. The lizards paced back and forth, anxiously snapping their tails at nothing, and she sent a shiver down the growing bond of peace. "Now, the trick to it is to stay calm. Don't panic. They feel what you feel, and you're feeling pretty apprehensive right now. Calm down, and they will."
Calm down. She didn't really feel like calming down. Her adrenaline was pumping through her veins, and she felt like she was about to shake out of her skin. The one missing a leg was hissing, limping across the ground, and she wondered if now was really the time to be learning something. Quinlan sure wasn't concerned with self preservation. He had taken a hit just to he had a chance to teach her something.
"You're getting wound up again," Quinlan said. "Calm down. "
Botan took a deep breath and fell deeper into the minds of the creatures. They were in pain, all of the time, and she sent a press of affection towards them, a wish that she could soothe it. The lizards all hissed in tune, now connected through the mental link she had created with them, and she took a deep breath.
Calm. She had to be calm and composed. They couldn't sense her fear, and she didn't fear them, not really, but they reminded her of a woman with snakes for hair, fangs biting into her flesh over and over and over again, pumping her full of venom. Something cold closed around her heart, and Quinlan pressed his back to hers.
"Calm down, " he hissed, and their tails were really whipping around as Botan thought about bashing her fists into that woman's face until she stayed down, echoed by the two hits to the lizard's face from earlier. Her breath caught in her chest and she shuddered, and Quinlan hissed just as the link broke.
The lizard lashed out, and Botan reacted on instinct, shearing off its head with one blow. The remaining two attacked, hissing and spitting, and Quinlan swore as he slashed one across its chest. It went down with a keening noise, and Botan spun, scoring the other down the side. It went down, dead, and something gutting wracked through her, because she couldn't keep it together and now they were dead.
She thought about serpents for hair and hisses that she was going to die here, and her heart was hammering in her chest. The blast doors opened, and out rolled the droidekas, and Quinlan blew them back with a push of the Force. They shattered on the wall, broken into tiny pieces, and Botan looked up at the observational room, where the scientists were already scattering.
"They have the charges up there. Go get them!" Quinlan ordered as more droids poured in, and Botan gave him a desperate look over her shoulder. "I've got it. Go! "
Botan leapt up, spinning through the air, and landed hard on the ledge outside the observational deck. The glass shattered with a single blow of her saber, and Quinlan leapt up beside her, climbing in. The bags were in the corner, and he jerked his head.
"Let's set the charges and run," he said, and Botan nodded swiftly, shrugging the backpack over her good shoulder. She was still bleeding and was in pain, but she could keep going. She could keep going. It was Quinlan she was worried about, because he was looking a little pale under his clan markings.
They had to move. Botan ran through the door with a final glance back at the dead bodies left to rot in the arena, and at least they would get a fiery funeral. They were just in pain. Hurting, wanting to lash out at people, and she knew what that was like. She had been that person at one point in time, angry at the unfairness of not being able to finish high school with her class, beaten down and broken after one fight with a villain.
Botan ran out the door, Quinlan at her side, and she glanced down at the bright red blood seeping into his tunics.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, and he nodded tightly.
"I'll be fine," he replied as he triggered the lift button. The scientists were already gone, but Botan wasn't worried about them. Her prerogative was the research facility. They weren't in charge of chasing down the scientists all over Separatist space.
It occurred to her, rather belatedly, that they were in enemy territory right now, and both of them needed medical attention. They would have to sneak back out to the spaceport to get off planet. She hoped they hadn't been traced back to the ship yet. If their getaway was gone and Quinlan was out of commission, she didn't know what she would do. She had no experience in fleeing enemy states.
"Right," Quinlan said, tight, and she turned right through a pair of blast doors. They came to a halt outside a final door, and he triggered it open to reveal the generator room. Botan rushed in and swung down the backpack, carefully setting the charges on the humming generators, and Quinlan limped over to the other one to start setting charges.
They worked quickly, but it wasn't long before they heard clanking. Botan glanced over her shoulder, knowing they both couldn't fight to the fullest of their ability, and were things really supposed to go so wrong like this for their first mission? She didn't think so. Was this normal?
"Alright, done," Quinlan said and tucked the detonator in his belt. "Let's go."
Botan backed up rapidly, and he turned for the doors just as a shot whipped in.
"Don't shoot at the generators, idiot!" a tinny voice came, and Quinlan ignited his saber and rushed forward, Botan hot on his heels. The two of them tore through the four B2 units and careened around the corner, and Quinlan froze.
"I don't know how to get out of here," he said as he slid the door shut and stabbed it with his saber, effectively locking it shut.
"What do you mean?!" Botan asked, and he grimaced.
"I know how to get to the generators, but I'm terrible with directions, and---"
"Up. We have to go up," Botan signed, and he nodded.
"Excellent. Good job, padawan. I'll track from there. I think I can figure out a short cut. That door won't hold forever."
The two of them charged around a corner, only to come face to face with a whole host of B1s, and Botan's eyes widened as her saber leapt to life. A shower of bolts were blocked, and she charged forward, slicing her way through the crowd of them, Quinlan at her back as they diced them to pieces. When they were all spare parts on the floor, Botan turned to Quinlan.
"What was that about there not being many droids in a research facility?" she signed, and he grimaced.
"Sorry," he said, and Botan snorted as she turned aside.
"Should we just crawl out the vents and skip the fighting part?"
"No, I barely fit," Quinlan replied, and Botan rolled her eyes.
"That sounds like a personal problem."
"What, you wanna leave your master all alone to face down a droid army?" he asked, feigning hurt.
"You'll be fine."
"Let's go," Quinlan said with a huffed laugh, and she eyed the blood now running into his leggings. It was really bad. Were there medical supplies on the ship? There should be, and she should probably be more worried about herself, because her arm was starting to go numb from blood loss, but she had just gotten this master, and she didn't want him to bleed out on her on their first mission. That would be an awkward way to get a new master.
The two of them rushed through the halls, Quinlan more shuffling than running, and Botan slid around a corner right into a blaster shot. She swerved to avoid it and ignited her saber, blocking one, two, three, and then she charged forward and dismantled the B1 units that had dared to shoot at her like that was going to do anything. Her shoulder pulled, and she gritted her teeth through the pain as she tore them apart. Quinlan was limping behind her, clutching at his side, and she thought of the long trip back to the spaceport. Would they make it?
They were reaching the end of the hall now, and she looked up at the sound of rolling on the halls. With a blast of the Force, she sent the droidekas flying before they could unfurl, crashing into bits on the walls. Quinlan touched the wall, panting, white faced and swaying, and then turned left, and she followed.
"Are you alright?" she asked, and he nodded.
"I'll survive."
"You should have just dealt with them," she typed awkwardly around the keypad, and he shook his head no.
"No, you needed to learn," he replied, like that was any excuse, and she huffed as they came into the pseudo hangar bay. There was one speeder left, and Botan swung onto it.
"I drive, you defend," she said, because she did not think he was capable of driving right now, and he nodded as he slumped onto the speeder behind her. Botan powered the speeder up and peeled out of the hangar, and Quinlan hit the detonator.
BOOM!
The explosion was massive. The frame of the massive doors went shooting out of the cliff wall, and Botan swerved to avoid it, nearly throwing Quinlan off as he clutched to her middle, and she hit the accelerator to roar down the canyon, the wind whipping around them and partially blinding her. She swerved around a boulder, and they were off, heading towards the town in the darkness of the night.
"Well," Quinlan said as he slumped against her, "that's one mission finished."
She could feel their mingled blood seeping into the backs of their robes, and she hoped she would reach the ship in time. They had to go back to Christophsis, and it would take several days. Maybe she would swing by the medical center on the way over, because she didn't think he would be piloting anytime soon.
Notes:
i sure hope those scientists don't become a problem.
Chapter 20Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Quinlan was unconscious in the small medbay, but Botan had done her best. She had the coordinates for the GAR medical center, and she was going to get them there. It was a two day trip in hyperspace, and she had to believe he would stabilize in that time before they could get him into a bacta tank.
Her own shoulder was in rough shape. The muscle was torn, and it was cleaved to the bone. They had enough medical supplies to go between both of them, but it was a near thing. This first mission had gone entirely wrong. She hadn't thought it possible that something could go this wrong. They had both gotten mauled, captured by scientists, and Quinlan had been so blase about the whole thing. Like this was normal.
At least the lizards were dead now, she thought dimly. Those things could have easily taken down a padawan that didn't have the instincts from a second life. She had barely survived. All the memories were coming back of that first major fight with a villain from her youth, and…
Well.
It seemed some things stuck with you, and she was frustrated with herself for not getting over it by now. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could see serpents reaching for her, fangs out and mouths spread wide. She still felt like she should have a scar on her cheek from getting bit in the face, but it wasn't there.
This new body was a lot to adjust to, she thought as she stared at herself in the mirror of the fresher. She needed to take a sonic to get the blood off, and mend her robes and wash them. Quinlan would just have to be left in his nasty robes.
It was alarming, sometimes, to see her body and not see all the scars. It had been years now, but it didn't get any easier. Her skin wasn't entirely smooth. She had a scar on her knee from busting it open when she was learning how to jump. There was a scar on her lip from busting it open on a desk. When she had died, she had over 250 scars, and a good majority of them were from that one singular fight with that woman when she was seventeen.
With a sigh, she stepped into the sonic and turned it on, ignoring how her shoulder was throbbing now that the adrenaline had worn off. She was used to pain. The sonic screeched to life, and she switched it to water, though she needed to preserve it. She needed to wash the blood out of her hair. Her buns were pulled down one handed as she stood under the spray, the heavy red strands falling down in a curtain around her face, and she started to mechanically wash it.
Honestly, Quinlan was insane. Taking a hit like that instead of killing them just so he could teach her something? What was he thinking? He should have just killed them.
Even so, it brought a bit of a smile to her lips. She would have had it, were it not for the trauma. She honestly would have had it, and could probably try it again. Even so, Quinlan was an idiot, and she was going to tell him so when he was lucid and not in need of a blood transfusion.
Botan sat at Quinlan's bedside with her outer robes in hand, needle and thread in one hand as she stitched the pieces back together. She had gotten the blood out, well versed in getting blood out of clothes, but it was a near thing. The tan robes were slightly discolored around the shoulder and back, but it would be fine. She braced her foot on his bed and started stitching, finding something of comfort in the way her needle moved in and out of the cloth. She would need to mend Quinlan's, too, if he didn't want to do it himself.
"Awake?" Quinlan asked, and she looked up at him. His eyes were soft, unfocused with sleep, and she held up her handiwork, indicating she couldn't talk right now. He hummed, and his eyes drifted shut. Botan glanced at the bandage plastered to his side, and slid down further in her chair with her knees braced. "You did good."
Botan said nothing, and Quinlan lifted his hand to throw over his eyes.
"Why's it so bright in here?" he mumbled, and Botan gave him a disbelieving look, because she needed to see. She just held up her robes again, and he eyed it from under his hand. "Why can't you do that somewhere else?"
Seeing he wasn't going to stop until she was baited into conversation, Botan laid down her robes in her lap and tapped her foot on the bed.
"Stop distracting me."
"Kiddo, I am a walking distraction," he said, and then looked down. "How bad is it?"
"Bad enough," she replied. "We're en route to the G-A-R medical center."
"How long?"
"About one more day," she replied, and he eyed her sloppily bandaged shoulder and loose hair.
"Come here," he ordered. "Flip your chair around. And get a brush."
Botan gave him an incredulous look, but he was already leveraging himself up to sit with a muffled whine of pain. With a sigh, she got up and padded over to her backpack to root around in it and pull out her brush and some hair ties, left in a mess at the bottom of the pack. Botan walked back over to him, dragging the chair behind her as he went cross legged, handing him the brush.
"Sit," he ordered, and Botan sat back down, picking up her robes to start putting in her neat stitches. Quinlan grabbed a fistful of her hair and started at the bottom, brushing out the tangles and knots, and she bore through it as he worked through the thick, curly, still-damp mess. She bore through the tugging, wondering how long he'd had the dreads, and a thought occurred to her.
"Do you do the dreads yourself?" she asked, and he hummed.
"I travel around too much to have a hairdresser to go to," he replied as he worked his way through the ends.
"What are you going to do to my hair?"
"Just braid it. I used to wear braids before I committed to the dreads," he replied, and her eyes went a little wide.
"Not the tiny ones, right?"
"I am not up for twelve hours of braiding, no," he replied, and she relaxed. "Besides, we don't have the tools for that. I need combs and product, and you don't have the curl pattern for it. Your hair'll fall out. Too loose."
Satisfied, she went back to stitching, and he reached her tangled roots, gingerly working out the knots.
"Aayla didn't have hair," he muttered under his breath and Botan tilted her head.
"She's a Twi'lek, right?" It had been years, and she had only meet Aayla twice, and she wasn't sure she was thinking of the same person.
"Yeah. I knew she was going to my padawan from the moment I met her," he said, and they both fell silent, thinking about how Botan had just been assigned to Quinlan. The war had changed a lot, and she wondered if he still would have chosen her if they were at peace. Probably not, but she would have had options. She was sure she would have options, but would she have been called at all to the knights if they were at peace, or would she have joined ExplorCorps? It was probably the latter.
It made something melancholy curl in her gut, because it had only been a few days, but she liked Quinlan as her master. She liked him quite a lot. They were like oil and water, but they still fit together so well. It was almost unnerving how easily they had fallen into companionship.
Quinlan reached around to tap her under the chin, and she obediently tilted her head back so he could start the braid at the top of her head. He was pulling a little too tightly, but she was fine with that. It meant that the braid wasn't going anywhere, and she could leave it in for a few days. Her hands stilled on her stitchcraft, and he plaited her hair together in what she recognized from the amount of strands as a fishtail braid. Oh, he was getting fancy with it. She normally just did a French braid, and she could not, for the life of her, remember what it was called here.
Eventually, she got to let her head drop again, and he moved on to the back of her head. She started doing her neat little stitches again, forcing the needle in and out of the soft cloth, and he looked over her shoulder at what she was doing.
"You know you can just get new ones," he said, and she huffed, her shoulder pulling at the heave of it.
"I don't want to," she replied. "That's wasteful."
Hero costumes used to be so expensive, needing to be handmade and to order, so she only had three of them, and regularly patched them and stitched them back together. This was nothing new to her. Besides, she liked the act of stitching. It was calming, gave her something to do with her hands, and grounded her when she was desperately in need of grounding. It was like crochet in that way. She wasn't all that great at it, but she was good enough to make sure her clothes would stay put.
Quinlan was moving away from her scalp now, and she wanted to tell the master to go back to bed. He was probably exhausted, or maybe he was looking for something to do with his own hands. It was probably the latter. She could feel a slight tremor in his hands as he worked on her hair, and she knew the adrenaline was still wearing off. Her bangs were drifting in her eyes, and she was probably going to ask for scissors when she got to the medical center. They were getting a bit long, a bit in the way, though she could see quite well through the curls.
"Alright, you're done," Quinlan said, and she swept the end of the braid over her shoulder before she picked up the chair with her injured arm and turned it back around. She flopped down it, bracing her socked feet on his bed again, and kept stitching. "Not leaving?"
Botan shook her head no, because of course she wasn't, he was literally at death's door, and he groaned as he laid back down and threw his arm over his eyes.
"Fine, but I'm going back to sleep," he said with a yawn, and then paused. "I should shower, too."
"You stink," Botan said, and he snorted.
"In a bit," he said and rolled over onto his uninjured side. She eyed him, thinking about all of the organs that were probably punctured and leaking in him as they spoke, and he curled in on himself, like he was in pain.
He was going to die, she thought. He was going to die before they reached the medical center, and it would all be because he wanted to teach her something.
How annoying.
He probably wasn't going to die, honestly. If he hadn't died from the blood loss, he would probably be fine. That is, if his organs didn't poison his body. She had no idea if Kiffars had a different physiology from Humans. Then again, she wasn't even technically Human herself, just a mutated near-Human, and that was still weird to her.
It would be interesting if Earth was out there somewhere, she thought as she finished off the second tear and knotted her thread, snipping it off. But, quirks probably would have spread to the rest of the Human populations by now, so it was likely not a thing. Sometimes, she daydreamed about it, but…
No.
She liked her life without the social pressure of quirks. It was… Well, she wouldn't say it was better, but it sure was easier. It was a lot easier.
Quinlan had already fallen asleep again, and she took the moment of peace to memorize his Force signature. It was warm and yellow, with a bright spark of chaos, but there were shadows there, just dancing through his presence in the Force. He felt like a warm cup of tea after a fright, a blanket around your shoulders against the chill of space. It was nice, she thought as she started on her next tear. She liked it.
She liked it a lot.
The shadows, in their own way, were comforting to her. She knew she had her own shadows, her own darkness, her own capabilities. But, being in the Light was a choice, and she liked that he also knew he was capable of Darkness and chose to turn his face towards the stars.
Maybe he would understand her better.
Notes:
heeeyyyy twenty chapters. i did not think i would get this far.
Chapter 21Notes:
CW for mention of eugenics and ableism and Kaminoans thinking like Kaminoans.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Lulo Vo started her shift today, she didn't expect a beleaguered padawan dragging in her master. When she started her shift today, she didn't expect them to be near-Human and Kiffar, which presented multiple problems. Kiffar did not have the same blood type, known for their brilliant scarlet hue, and she had no blood on hand for a transfusion. Furthermore, he required surgery, and she was not well versed in Kiffar physiology. In addition, his liver was punctured and leaking all inside his organs, and she had to drain it.
Overall, it was a very stressful start to her shift. Both of them needed to be dumped into some bacta tanks, but she had to drain his liver first to make sure the toxins didn't interact with the bacta. And the girl. Lulo Vo did not know what to make of the girl. She was technically 100% Human, but she was also very much not 100% Human, but there were no other things listed in her genome, at least no known species. But, there she was, with her very red eyes and screwed up genome, and all Lulo Vo knew was that this girl, with her mutism and completely baffling genome, would not have lasted long on Kamino.
The Jedi were far too accepting of variants, in her opinion, but she plopped them in the tanks nonetheless after draining the Kiffar, which led to her current predicament.
High General Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown up to her medical center. And was currently waiting for them to be pulled out of the bacta tanks, pacing back and forth and making her medics nervous. His long robe was sweeping along the ground, and he had left some folded up robes encased in wrappings on the chair where she was supposed to sit, and she had no idea how to politely tell him to get out of their work area and pace somewhere else.
"It shouldn't have been so dangerous," he muttered as he rubbed at his beard, and CC-2224 stood to the side with a long suffering look on his face. "They weren't supposed to get hurt. I don't understand what happened. "
"Master Kenobi," Lulo Vo said as she politely inclined her hand. "Perhaps it would be best to wait so you can find the answers to your concerns?"
"I am waiting," he said, distracted, and she inhaled through her nostrils. "When will they be out of bacta?"
"The padawan will be out in one hour, and the master will be out in four," she replied and he continued to pace. "Perhaps you should take a seat."
He sat down in her chair, robes balanced on his thighs, and then, within moments, he was up again, the robes discarded on the chair. Lulo Vo watched him, bewildered by the sheer amount of energy this man seemed to possess, and he started pacing again.
"Do you know what the injuries were from?" he asked.
"The padawan mentioned something about lizards," she said, and he finally, blissfully stopped to stare at her openly.
"Lizards?"
"Yes. Lizards."
"What in the blazes did they get up to?"
"Well, I'm sure you can find out in one hour."
"At least I learned sign," he muttered under his breath and resumed pacing, though she didn't see why that mattered, because the girl had a communication device, albeit a strange one. She would have just surgically made her vocal cords work, or installed false ones, if she had to be a thing. Lulo Vo would never understand the vast galaxy's opinions on that sort of thing. Corrective surgery should always be the first option, if you wanted to avoid a culling.
Master Kenobi was going to wear a hole in the floor at this rate, and she needed to send him out. No one liked to see a pacing general, medics least of all. Every clone in the room looked like they wanted to sedate him so they could get some peace and quiet, CC-2224 included.
"Master Kenobi," she said diplomatically, "perhaps your commander and yourself might want to visit any injured troops from the 212th while you wait on Padawan… Yamada, was it? To awaken."
"No, that's alright," Master Kenobi said as he resumed pacing, and CC-2224 coughed into his hand.
"I think that might be a good idea, sir," he said out loud, and oh, Lulo Vo had an ally here. This was why he was always the top of his batch, the best of the best, and why he had been made Marshal Commander.
"Do you want to visit them?" Master Kenobi asked, and CC-2224 relaxed.
"I think they'd like to see their general, sir," he said, and Master Kenobi stopped once again in the middle of his pace. His eyes darted between Lulo Vo and CC-2224, and it was only then that it seemed to dawn on him that he was being a nuisance.
"Right, of course," he said and turned for the door. "I'll… I'll be back when Botan's up."
"Of course, Master Kenobi."
"Please send someone to come get me--- Oh, I'll set an alarm. How many minutes exactly?"
Lulo Vo turned to the medic to her right who was in charge of the two of them, and he checked his datapad.
"Forty-eight minutes, sir," he reported, and Master Kenobi nodded.
"Right. I'll set a timer for thirty minutes, then," he said. "How bad were Botan's injuries, again?"
"Clear to the bone, sir," the medic said before Lulo Vo could put it delicately. "Lots of tearing in the muscle, will be needing physical and electro therapy. We should have her with a lightsaber in a week, sir. As long as she's good about her stretches."
"And Quinlan?" he asked, and it was only then that it occurred to Lulo Vo that he and this other master might be friends. Ah, now his behavior made sense, though it was no less annoying.
"Leaking liver, sir, but we drained it before we put him in the tank. His organs got torn up pretty good, looked like he got hit with shrapnel, but we don't know what put it in him. There was no debris, and there's no way that padawan could've taken it out."
"No, Botan knows basic first aid and wouldn't have taken anything out," Master Kenobi muttered as he rubbed at his beard again, and CC-2224 cleared his throat.
"Sir. The men?"
"Right, yes, the men, the men," Master Kenobi said and turned aside again. "And, when will Quinlan be---"
"Sir," CC-2224 said, and Lulo Vo shot him a look, because that kind of behavior was unacceptable, but he ignored her.
"Right, of course," Master Kenobi said and turned aside again. "Right. Yes. Botan hasn't had any hearing damage, has she?"
"Hearing damage?" Lulo Vo asked, because that was an… odd question.
"Yes, hearing damage."
"Not that I could see, but if she did, the bacta tank would fix it since it was caught so early."
"That's good," Master Kenobi muttered as he rubbed at his beard. "That's… that's good."
What a strange question. Hearing damage was easily fixed, and nothing to be concerned about. Plenty of clones had it, and they were just fit with implants and sent on their way.
How very strange.
Obi-Wan watched Botan carefully as she was brought out of sedation. Her hair was in a loose braid, and he knew in his gut Quinlan had done it.
He had wanted Botan for his padawan, after Anakin, if he was being honest, but he was just… as a High General, he was too busy. He knew it would be an irresponsible, selfish choice. What was more, she needed a master that was suited to her, and Quinlan was that master. Obi-Wan could only teach her so much about discretion. The life of a Shadow would be perfect for her, and while your master's path in life didn't necessarily dictate where you would go, the best Shadows were ones trained by other Shadows. He was too high-profile for her to ever get away with life as a Shadow. She would be seen by all of the people she didn't need to be seen by, and the galaxy's eyes were on him and Anakin at this point in the war. Most people knew Anakin had a Togruta padawan, though they had kept Ahsoka out of any and all propaganda and media photos, and Obi-Wan having a near-Human padawan with red eyes and bright red hair like that would be… Well, it would be troublesome for her, should she ever decide to become a Shadow.
With Quinlan, she had options. More options than what would be available to her as Obi-Wan's padawan. So, he hadn't asked for her as a padawan. He knew the Council would make the right decision for her, and Mace did make the right decision, once he was aware of her unique abilities.
Even so, after a disastrous first mission like this, he was second guessing his choices. Was Quinlan reckless again? He had always been so careful with Aayla. Maybe he was throwing caution to the wind with Botan.
In any case, he practically had a padawan in Ahsoka, so he shouldn't be too greedy. Force only knew he did half of the raising for Anakin, because Anakin had always been a bit inattentive.
No, he didn't need another padawan. He was deployed enough with Anakin that Ahsoka was practically his padawan as well, and he knew he should probably take a break after Anakin's nightmare apprenticeship. Besides, there were… other concerns, like Botan's communicator breaking midway through a mission and none of the clones being able to understand her. He couldn't very well expect his entire legion to learn a whole other language, because that's what sign was. A language.
It was safer this way.
It was supposed to be better for her, but she got mauled by some kind of animal on her first mission.
Botan's eyes fluttered open, and Obi-Wan sat up expectantly as she turned her face to look at him. Her communicator was on the table, and he picked it up and handed it to her.
"Hello," she signed, and Obi-Wan let out a breath. "Where's
"
"Yes," she replied, and Obi-Wan let out a breath.
"He's still in bacta. They had to drain his liver."
Botan made a face, and Obi-Wan leaned forward, lacing his fingers together as he braced his elbows on his knees. Behind him, Cody shifted, discomfort at not being able to understand the conversation clear in the air, and Obi-Wan stared at Botan. She was fully healed, and she looked perfectly happy and content. There was no stress in her face, nothing in her Force signature that indicated that she was upset. So, that was good.
"What happened?" he asked bluntly.
"They caught us," she replied, and he nodded, though that explained nothing about lizards, and she continued. "Then they decided to use us as test subjects for the research project they were working on."
"So, you were able to confirm the project?" Obi-Wan asked, because that wasn't exactly what they had been sent there for, but he wasn't going to complain.
"Jedi-killers," she replied simply, and he stilled. "They were basically vivisecting lizards with droid parts and probably messing with their genomes to make them stronger and faster and bigger, I think. Fast enough to kill a Jedi."
"Ah," Obi-Wan said, because of course they would do that. Of course. Droids couldn't do it, not even those new commando droids, so they had to get creative. "And that's how you and Quinlan got hurt?"
"We were used as test subjects. The scientists escaped, so they can probably continue the research, but we escaped and managed to destroy the bunker and everything in it."
"And this is how Quinlan was injured?"
"Quinlan got injured because he's an idiot and rather than kill them, he decided it was time to teach me how to create a Force bond with a wild animal," Botan reported, which sounded exactly like something Quinlan would do, and Obi-Wan didn't even know to be upset. Yeah, that sounded plausible.
"Ah. Of course he did," he muttered and rubbed his hand over his face. "I'll show you how to write a report on the situation when you're in better shape. Rest now while I report this to the Council."
"Okay," Botan signed, and then looked over curiously at Cody. "They do know we're empaths, right?"
Cody's discomfort and shame at only getting one side of the conversation was projected loud and clear in the Force, and Obi-Wan grimaced. The clones had only been taught smatterings of Mando'a, Basic, and commando hand signs, which had nothing in common whatsoever with Galactic Basic Sign. He had learned through multiple translation efforts and catching Cody studying on numerous occasions that he was supremely embarrassed at not knowing many languages. It was a sore point with him.
"Yes, they know," he replied and came to his feet. "I'll be back in a bit, alright? You'll still be tired after all of that, so go back to sleep."
His eyes drifted down to the scars on her arm, and he laid a hand on her shoulder.
"You did very well, getting Quinlan here and doing first aid," he said, and he hated that she had to do it, but they could consider this mission as just one that got incredibly out of hand, with no fault towards them.
"Thank you," she signed, and he patted her on the shoulder.
"Get some rest," he said and finally let go as he made his way to the door of the private room they had been put in for this briefing.
He didn't catch her reply, but he was sure it was an acknowledgment, because she felt content and quiet in the Force, no frustration or upset at the situation. That was another thing he wanted her as his padawan for. She had always been so damned level headed, and it was a breath of fresh air after Anakin and his hot headedness. Thankfully, he had eventually grown out of it, except for a few situations, and he had been a nightmare at the beginning of the war, especially with the Geonosis debacle, but…
But.
"What'd she say about me, sir?" Cody asked as they walked down the hall, and Obi-Wan glanced at him. "... There's a lot of pointing in sign language. I know she said something about me."
"She asked if you were aware that we're empaths," Obi-Wan said, and Cody's embarrassment climbed in the Force. Ah, there was another language that was about to be added to his learning arsenal. He would probably master it. He was a quick study at languages, not that Obi-Wan would tell him that. Telling him would only acknowledge that he was doing it, and Cody tried very, very hard to hide it from him. He would let him have this.
"... Was it really bad?"
"It generally is," Obi-Wan replied, and stopped in the hall. "Most people don't know multiple languages, unless they're spacers or diplomats. You don't have to feel so bad about it."
"Yessir," Cody said, but he felt uncomfortable in the Force at this conversation.
"I can teach you shields, if you'd like, so it's not so loud," Obi-Wan offered, and Cody nodded.
"I'd like that, sir."
Well, that was one project to keep Obi-Wan sane. Force, he was going to remain worked up about Quinlan and Botan together. Now that Obi-Wan really thought about them and their personalities, they were probably going to be a disaster duo together. Force.
Notes:
i do not like Lulo Vo
Chapter 22Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"How did you get this karked up on your first mission?" Ahsoka demanded, and Knight Skywalker's eyes went wide.
"Whoa, Snips, watch your language!" he said, and Botan shrugged as she sat in the bed. The food here was bland. She didn't really want to eat it, but she probably should, and she dragged her spoon through the soup as she stared down at it. She wanted to get real food, but that was going to be impossible here.
"I'll watch my language when you watch yours," Ahsoka said sweetly, and Botan looked over at them.
"I got attacked by lizards," Botan reported, and Ahsoka stared at her.
"You lost to a lizard? "
Botan shrugged again, and Ahsoka bit hard on her cheek as she visibly held back laughter.
"I took its head off," Botan said, and Ahsoka barked out a harsh laugh.
"Okay, you're redeemed," she said and sat down on the bed cross legged. "I heard your master is reporting to the Council."
"Yeah, he is," Botan replied as she looked at his tunics in her lap, complete with her patch kit. She needed to sew up these rips. Wiggling the tray aside, she picked up his tunic and pulled out a length of thread, ripping it off with her teeth. The end of the thread was pushed through the eye of the needle, and she deftly tied a knot at the end.
"Is that Master Vos's?" Ahsoka asked, and Botan nodded. "Oh. Obi-Wan brought him new robes."
"I should still fix these ones. They're wearable," Botan replied awkwardly with the needle clutched between two fingers, the speech coming out garbled, and then she stuck it into the fabric and started stitching up the hole.
"If you say so," Ahsoka said as she eyed the stained fabric, and Botan drew up her legs. Ahsoka reached forward, drawing her fingers across the fresh scars on Botan's arm, and then she sighed. "At least it didn't get your communicator."
"Yeah," Botan signed one handed, and Ahsoka flopped back on the bed.
"I'm due for a Council meeting, so I'll be back," Knight Skywalker said, and Botan flapped a hand at him. "Don't bother any of the troops, Snips."
"I won't," Ahsoka replied, and then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him. Botan listened to his footsteps echo off down the hall, and then she lifted her hand.
"S-n-i-p-s?" she asked, and Ahsoka grimaced.
"I get snippy," she replied, and Botan nodded.
"Has he considered doing things that don't make you snippy?"
"You know, that's what I said, too!" Ahsoka said and sat back up. "Honestly!"
"Men," Botan drawled, and Ahsoka snorted.
"Does your master have a nickname for you yet?"
"Not yet, but he calls me kid a lot," Botan replied, setting aside her sewing for now, because Ahsoka was here, and she was going to talk to her.
"Well, that's just annoying," Ahsoka said, very imperious and sure of herself, and Botan shifted so she was cross legged.
"How are you doing?" she asked, blunt, and Ahsoka hesitated. "We haven't gotten to talk much. Are you okay?"
"The front lines are… tiring," Ahsoka admitted, and Botan nodded a few times. "It's always fighting and strategizing and men dying, and I can feel it every time in the Force when someone goes. Anakin says that's just the nature of life, but…"
"But there's nothing natural about this," Botan said, and Ahsoka nodded.
"Yeah. There's nothing natural about this."
Botan could tell from the second that Ahsoka came in that she was wound up tight in the Force, tense and unnerved. There was grief lingering in the corners of her, like dust in the light of a setting sun. She wasn't doing well. Botan grieved for her, but she didn't know how to make it better. Comparatively, Botan had it easy. Ridiculously easy. Sure, she got mauled, but she didn't have to deal with feeling people actually die.
For a moment, Botan felt guilty. She got to go on adventures, while Ahsoka suffered. Sure, mad scientists had tried to kill her… again, now that she thought about it. What was it with scientists and trying to kill her? It happened in her past life, too. Was this something she was going to have to keep an eye on?
Even so, Ahsoka. Botan knew what it was like to experience death. She had gone through it plenty when she was a hero. But, she had never felt a death in the Force. She wasn't sure she wanted to, and Ahsoka experienced it all the time. Painful deaths, deaths full of fear and agony. Botan didn't envy her for her position in this war. She could only imagine what it was like.
"I don't really want to talk about people dying," Ahsoka said quietly, and Botan inclined her head.
"Quinlan taught me how to play sabacc," Botan signed, and Ahsoka brightened.
"Can you show me?"
"Sure," Botan said and reached over for Quinlan's bag, left on the floor. He had been taken right out of the bacta tank and to the Council meeting. She hadn't even gotten a chance to see him yet, but all of their things were here, so there was that. Quickly, she rooted around in the bag, and then winced when the needle she had forgotten about stabbed her in the leg. But, her hand landed on the sabacc deck, and she pulled it out before she pulled the needle out of her leg and carefully threaded it through the cloth before she set his robes aside.
Then, she got her communicator sealed back over her arm, and settled down to start shuffling the cards. They rasped in the air, and she started passing them back and forth between her and Ahsoka.
Quietly, she started showing Ahsoka how to play the game, and they settled into comfortable familiarity with each other. Botan had missed Ahsoka. Her old friend was leaner now, more fit, to a degree where Botan was quietly concerned. She must be living purely off of rations on the battlefield. Those things were packed with protein and carbohydrates to keep them running for twelve hour marches. She was still eyeing that tube top, though. It still seemed like a poor choice, but Botan wasn't going to tell Ahsoka what to do. That's not what she was here for.
The two of them fell into a quiet routine of playing cards together, and Botan found herself relaxing into Ahsoka's Force presence. It was still the same, at least, just tinged with quiet grief, and she found it comforting. That burning brightness, like a lazy cat basking itself in a window, a feline's purr on your stomach as it pinned you to the bed, was the same presence Botan had fallen asleep beside every night for years. It was home to her, and she missed Ahsoka more than she'd like to admit. The war had tainted that presence, but it was still the same.
"Do you think you and Master Vos are going to work out?" Ahsoka asked after a while, where Botan swept the floor with her twice, and now Ahsoka was proceeding on to the next one. Botan was half tempted to let her win this time, because this was getting ridiculous. The girl didn't have a poker face.
"I don't know," Botan replied. "I hope so. I like him. He's an idiot, but I like him."
"Only you would say that about your master after barely a week of knowing him," Ahsoka said, and Botan rolled her eyes.
"He took a hit from a lizard and had to have his liver pumped just because he wanted to teach me how to calm their minds."
"Oh," Ahsoka said, flat. "So, he is an idiot."
"That's what I said."
"Did he do your hair?" Ahsoka asked, and Botan reached up to touch the greasy mess that was desperately in need of a wash now that it had soaked in bacta for a day.
"Yes," she replied, and Ahsoka tilted her head.
"I assume it looked better before the bacta bath?"
"Yes, it did," Botan replied, mildly offended, because it had been a very neat braid. It had just been through a lot.
"I thought I was going to have someone to practice braiding on," Ahsoka muttered, and Botan tilted her head.
"Maybe one of the clones will eventually grow their hair out," Botan said, and Ahsoka nodded.
"I'm holding out hope."
"You don't have a poker face, by the way," Botan added, off hand, and Ahsoka pulled a face.
"I'm trying. "
"How are you supposed to clean out the clones if you can't even school your facial expressions?" Botan teased, and then stilled as he recalled that Quinlan had said he was going to investigate Knight Skywalker.
Oh.
Everything came crashing down, and Botan blessed the Force for her own poker face, because she wouldn't have been able to hide it from Ahsoka if she didn't already have it on.
Ahsoka seemed to like Knight Skywalker, and Botan wondered if she knew about the marriage. Probably not. Lovers was one thing, but a secret, hidden marriage was another thing entirely. He had oaths he had sworn to the Jedi. There was a right way to get married while you were in the Order, and a wrong way, and he…
He could have just left. He could have just left to be with her, but he didn't do that. Was it because of the war, or did he get a thrill out of getting away with it? What else was he lying about? And should she…
Should she warn Ahsoka?
No. That would be a bad idea. If Knight Skywalker was tipped off to the investigation, things might go bad.
Botan had lied to Rei, to Hizashi, to Shouta, and Rin, and all manners of people plenty of times as an underground pro. It was part of the job, and she was on a lot of missions that required absolute secrecy. It didn't get any easier, and she knew Ahsoka was young. She would blame her for this, when it came out, and Ahsoka would need a new master. There was no way this wasn't going to end in anything but Knight Skywalker leaving the Order to be with his wife. Or divorce. Either one could go, and Ahsoka had always been a romantic. She would probably side with Knight Skywalker.
… Was Botan going to lose her best friend over this?
She looked up at Ahsoka, memorizing her markings across her face, montrals, and lekku. The reds and creams and blues. The akul teeth headdress. The way her brow was furrowed in concentration at her cards, not even hiding the fact that she had a bad hand and she was desperately trying to figure out what to do with it. Her anxiety gnawing at the edges of the Force.
Botan…
Botan felt guilty, and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she shouldn't have said anything.
Only time would tell.
Notes:
Botan: I Did Not Consider The Consequences Of My Actions
Me: just Wait.
Chapter 23Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Even from a distance as a hologram, it was still nerve wracking to stand in the middle of the Council and give his report. Quinlan had never really enjoyed reporting to the Council, and now it was a whole thing now that Botan had been hurt on mission and took them to a medical center. There were rules in place for that sort of thing. If a padawan ended up needing more than care that could be received in the field, there was a report. He understood why, of course, but he would have preferred to avoid this.
"So, your padawan was mauled by a lizard," Mace said, flat, entirely unamused. "And you needed your liver drained."
"I'm better now," Quinlan replied, feeling weird and exposed, because he had never had to make a report over an injury before.
Mace propped up his head and rubbed at his forehead, and Quinlan could already see the forming headache.
"I understand that it was a little out of your hands, and we should have done more recon before we sent you in, but… It was her first mission, Quinlan."
"Yeah. I know. It was her first mission," Quinlan replied as he scratched at his scalp awkwardly, feeling vaguely chastised. It had gotten out of control, and he probably should have done more recon before he went in with her, but he had honestly thought it would be fine. Not great, but fine. He was wrong, though, and he should probably own up to that.
"In any case, Botan is fine now," Obi-Wan said. "She has a good head on her shoulders. She immediately got medical assistance and took the necessary steps to contain the situation. She should be commended."
Yeah, Quinlan had really lucked out with her, now that he was thinking about it. While he was busy being unconscious, she was taking the steps to make sure he was okay and they both got medical attention. She went directly to the medical station, and he was going to make sure to praise her for that. Most padawans would have panicked and had to be talked through it, but not her. She just went and did what she needed to do.
But…
"There is… When did Botan come to the temple?" he asked, and there was silence from all the Council members.
"She was abandoned on our doorstep when she was four," Mace replied, and then tilted his head. "Why?"
"No, it's just…" Quinlan said, and then looked down. "It's nothing."
When he touched her hair, he saw things. Just vague, blurry flashes of a woman with snakes for hair's face splitting under brass knuckles, of Botan haunting a street on top of a roof, looking down on what looked like a mugging with a species he had never seen before. He saw what looked like a hospital with medical equipment he had never seen before, and a man that looked a hell of a lot like Botan talking animatedly in a sign language he had never seen before, a flash of a stuffed animal he didn't recognize, a person with taffy orange hair cooking dinner over a stove. They were all blurry images, old, and everyone was speaking in a language he didn't recognize, didn't sound like anything he knew. He felt back pain, joint pain, old injuries pulling at the flesh he knew she didn't have.
"It's not nothing if you're bringing it up," Mace said, and Quinlan gritted his teeth, because he didn't know how to explain this.
"She just seems older than she is, is all," he said, because… when she was fighting in the cage, she was using techniques he had never seen before. Her first instinct was to punch in the face. A regular padawan would have panicked. That was a move that came with instinct and experience. A Jedi's first instinct was to use their lightsaber.
There were things that were off about his padawan, and maybe he should talk to her first about it, rather than the Council.
He couldn't get the image of her first instinct being to smash a bottle in a bar fight out of his head. No one thought to do that first, unless they had been in a lot of fights.
"It was a shiv problem, not a lightsaber problem."
That's what she said. And she was right. That was a shiv problem. Drawing a lightsaber in that setting would have just terrified everyone there. It would have been intimidating, sure, but there was a line between intimidating and abusing your power, and she knew the difference. Where had she learned that from?
What was going on with his padawan?
"If you're sure," Mace said, and Quinlan nodded.
"I'm sure," he replied, and wondered what she was like as a youngling. He had only met her twice, to his knowledge, and she had always been very mature, a bit spicy, but mature, asking the tough questions and somehow delighting in seeing him squirm.
"Well, I think that adjourns this meeting. Good work, Quinlan, even if it had a few hiccups. I believe Obi-Wan has a mission for you next," Mace said, and Quinlan nodded.
"Alright," he said quietly, still caught up in his own thoughts as to the mystery of his padawan, and the images of the Council members flickered out.
Obi-Wan turned to him, silent, and Quinlan looked up at him.
"You look tired," he said, and Obi-Wan tilted his head.
"You saw something in Botan," he said, and Quinlan hesitated.
"I'd rather speak to her about it," he said, and Obi-Wan was quiet.
"Is it something concerning?" he asked, and Quinlan pursed his lips.
"I think Botan isn't as young as she looks," he said, but… all of those memories were of an older Botan. An adult, or at least an older teenager. He caught some glimpses of her at a school, her as a child, but it wasn't her with the Order. It was somewhere else. Somewhere far away from here. He had been in her hair for a while, and there was a lot to parse through.
Every so often, he cursed his psychometry. It made things complicated, showed him things he wasn't supposed to see, and there wasn't a manual on acting on that information. You had to go at your own discretion, and he didn't think he could teach Botan that discretion in six months. It took years to hone and perfect, and he still wasn't an expert at it.
It felt… he couldn't say she felt Dark. She felt complicated. Her presence in the Force was bright, almost overwhelming. She was on par with Anakin, but she guarded it closely. Too closely. She had learned at a young age to not overwhelm people, to make herself small, and he hated that, but she was at least polite. Anakin didn't even bother with shielding his colossal Force presence. Botan did. People tended to get enveloped in Anakin's signature, blotted out of reality, but Botan wasn't like that. She forced it down, made herself little, a blip on your radar. It was… Well, it showed a degree of maturity he wasn't sure he was comfortable with.
"What do you mean by that?" Obi-Wan asked, and Quinlan hesitated again.
"When I braided her hair earlier, I saw memories of another life," he said, and now that he said it out loud, he realized how crazy it sounded. "She… she was some kind of Jedi, or something similar. In charge of stopping crime. I didn't recognize any of the species in that life, but she was an adult. I could feel the pain in her joints and bad back. I saw her get into fights, nearly get killed on several occasions, and I…"
Obi-Wan was silent, his hands folded in his robes.
"I don't know. It could be my psychometry acting up," Quinlan said, lamely, because he knew his psychometry was always correct and accurate.
"It could be," Obi-Wan agreed, but he didn't sound so sure, either. "Or she could be a reincarnation. We never did manage to find her parents, or even what planet she's from. She just appeared out of thin air, and there's… questions regarding it."
"Questions?"
"Her Force signature," Obi-Wan said simply. "She hides it very well, but she rivals Anakin in terms of her Force sensitivity. We could have gotten the prophecy wrong, though we've never said as much to her. She's a child."
Quinlan privately thought they shouldn't have said anything to Anakin, either, but that cat was out of the bag when Qui-Gon did it. Instilling him with delusions of grandeur, if you asked him. Even so, if you looked at the two of them, Anakin definitely looked like the hero of prophecy. He was strong, brave, a war hero already. Though, there were no heroes in war. Just broken people. Botan was just starting out, a child, with a disability and a peculiar ability to mute sound and hear more than the average person. She was charismatic, sure, but she was also a menace, and a spy, essentially. Anakin was reckless, but every crazy strategy he employed worked. He didn't know the meaning of the word 'loss'. Meanwhile, Botan was mauled on her first mission.
Botan was everything Anakin wasn't. She was confident, not arrogant. Level headed. Calm. Assessing. He didn't think she was the Chosen One, but he could be wrong. It was worth looking into. They knew nothing of her background, her upbringing prior to coming to the Temple, and asking her to remember it would be… Well, she probably couldn't. There were memories of another life, but she could have forgotten those, too. They were baked into her hair, sure, but…
But.
He didn't know.
Now he knew even less.
"I don't think she's the Chosen One," he said. "She's unusually strong, but…"
"But we don't know anything about her," Obi-Wan said. "She could very well be a product of immaculate conception. We don't know."
"I'm not going to talk to her about it," Quinlan said, because he wasn't about to tell his teenage padawan it was possibly her destiny to bring balance to the Force and fix everything wrong in the galaxy. He already saw how that turned out with Anakin, and he wasn't about to have a nightmare apprenticeship like Obi-Wan had. You couldn't be arrogant when you were a spy. It could get you killed. Telling her would just be…
Well, it would only invite trouble.
There was the possibility of two Chosen Ones, but that was…
Why would they need a second?
"You should at least talk to her about the memories," Obi-Wan said, and Quinlan nodded.
"I intend to," he replied, because he did. It could be nothing. Reincarnation was something a lot of cultures believed in, and it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. He could discuss it with her. See how she felt about it. See if she remembered anything.
It was likely she did remember. Those instincts… Maybe they were just baked into her subconscious. Maybe they weren't. He didn't know. The only answer was to talk to her about it and find out.
Notes:
time for Botan and Quinlan to talk about a lot of things before their new mission.
Chapter 24Chapter Text
Quinlan was sneaking glances at Botan, and she was more than a little worried about it as they went into hyperspace. The glow of the stars passing them by was illuminating the small cockpit, and she knew her leg was bouncing. She was still worried about lying to Ahsoka about the pending investigation, and she could feel the anxiety crawling up in her gut, pervasive and invasive. Ahsoka might never forgive her for this, and she was the first friend Botan had made in this world. She didn't want to lose her, and she knew that was attachment, but…
"What's bothering you?" Quinlan asked bluntly, and Botan hesitated before she turned towards him, folding her leg under herself.
"I don't like lying to Ahsoka," she said, and Quinlan tilted his head.
"About what?"
"The investigation," Botan said, and Quinlan pursed his lips. For a moment, he just stared at her, and Botan waited anxiously for his response.
"You two are best friends, right?"
"Yes," she replied, and Quinlan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Right," he muttered under his breath and turned fully to face her. "Sometimes, we have to lie. I'm lying to Obi-Wan about this. That's just part of being a Shadow. There's things we do, things we see, that are just… part of the job, and while it's different in peace time, when we're dealing with Sith artifacts, there's still things you just can't be truthful about."
Botan was quiet. She knew that, but she didn't feel any better about it. She didn't feel better about it at all.
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"You're probably not going to feel better about it," he said, not unkindly. "That's just… part of the gig. You feel awful about some of the things you have to do, and you have to accept that you have no control over the situation."
"But, I do have control over the situation. I can tell her."
"And then that's one more person that has to deal with the burden of a secret," Quinlan said, and Botan… hadn't thought about it that way. She would be putting Ahsoka in a position of telling her master versus keeping a secret, and it would put a rift between them. She hadn't really considered that. It was awful to keep a secret, and she would be putting that on Ahsoka. And, she would also have to explain why she knew, and explain that she had been lying to her for years. Ahsoka wouldn't understand why. Botan didn't even know why she'd never told her.
"I understand," she said, and this was… the kind thing to do. It was the kind thing to do, but it didn't feel like the right thing to do.
"Now that we're talking about secrets, what's up with your hair?" Quinlan asked, casual, and Botan tilted her head.
"Huh?"
"Your hair," Quinlan said, and Botan blinked at him. "Did you forget about the psychometry?"
What? What was he talking about?
"And who was that woman with snakes for hair?"
The world froze.
Botan stared at Quinlan as fear gripped her hands, robbing her speech from her, and her breath came out soft, gentle. For a long moment, she didn't know what to say. What could she say? Nothing. There was nothing she could say, and her hands were frozen.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said, and she didn't know why she'd said that. She had no idea why she said it, because she did want to talk about it. She wanted to talk about all she had loved and lost, the way she had to just pick herself up and keep going when she was so, so tired. She wanted to talk about the war, the way they sent children to die, the way people were fine with it. She wanted to talk about how people went from loving heroes to hating them, blaming them for things that were out of control. She wanted to talk about how nothing had changed. Nothing had changed but longer hours, later patrols, how nothing was better, how she had upheld the status quo and thought 'maybe I shouldn't' more than once. After all, what did more violence accomplish? Why weren't they trained in de-escalation? Why weren't they trained in community action and conflict resolution? Why did…
Why did nothing change?
Her hands were still.
Because people wanted their martyrs. They wanted their heroes, they wanted the violence to gawk at, so they could go back to their safe little lives in their office cubicles, content in the knowledge that if something happened, a hero would save them. They wanted to believe no one would hurt them, because heroes were here, and they lived in a delusion where their world wasn't a violent one, where heroes were too late to save people, to help people.
That's why.
It was startlingly similar to what was happening now.
But, they had their new pillar. They had Deku. So, they didn't care. So long as someone was holding up the ceiling, they didn't care. A new hero to rise out of the ashes, and that was… that was it.
"Botan?" Quinlan asked softly, and she realized tears were stinging at her eyes.
Oh.
Oh, it hurt.
"I was a hero once," she said, and gave him a small, sad, wobbly smile. "And I died alone."
No one cared about underground heroes.
They were destined to die alone.
Oh, it hurt.
"Botan, talk to me. What does that mean?" Quinlan asked, and Botan didn't know how to encapsulate an entire culture into one statement, one explanation, but she could try, because this was a secret she was tired of keeping.
"I was a hero," she repeated. "And I died. In that world, we had quirks. Almost everyone had one. That was the game. Super powers. And it caused chaos. Wars. People were doing whatever they wanted with them, and that's how we got pro heroes. People that trained as teenagers to fight crime and take down villains. There were special schools for it. Thousands upon thousands of heroes. And it worked, until it didn't. They became celebrities, after money and riches, and people got… sick of it. Corrupt on power. I was… I was an underground hero. Not in the media. I worked at night, avoided the cameras, the crowds. My brother was a limelight hero. My siblings were rescue heroes and support heroes, respectively. We… we did our best, but it wasn't enough. I believed in what I was doing, but now that I've had some distance, I don't think… I don't think I'd do it again."
She was always meant to be a hero, but she could have been a better social worker. That's what she would choose, if she had to do it again. If she had to take it all back, she would be a helper, not someone that hurt people. She still remembered that first fight. The way that woman's skin split under her brass knuckles as she bashed her face in, broke every bone in it, just so she would stay down.
It was all violence for the sake of violence.
And she was doing it again, wasn't she? Violence for the sake of violence.
Those lizards hadn't deserved to die. They were in pain. They needed help. She could have saved them.
"And you… remember this life?" Quinlan asked slowly, and Botan nodded.
"Like it was yesterday. I lost everything. My brother that raised me, my ex I wanted to try again with, my friends, my life. Because I wanted to be a hero. I didn't even die in the war."
"There was a war?"
"Yes, and it changed nothing. We didn't fix anything. We just kept doing things as we did them."
They didn't listen. Underground heroes started dropping like flies after that, disillusioned with their work and what they did, and she stubbornly held on, even though she should have done it, too. Maybe her death would have meant something more.
"I wish I could go back, sometimes, but I… I was happy in this life, until the war," she said, her hands shaking slightly. "I was happy. I was looking forward to being a peacekeeper, a monk. I wanted to do things differently this time, but it's all turning out the same."
She believed in what she was doing, of course. Of course she believed in it. But, it was… it was what it was. The war was unavoidable. It was the machinations of a Sith lord, and they didn't even know who the Sith lord was. There were rumors, she knew, that he was in the Senate, but she didn't know who he was. She didn't know, and she hated herself for that, because she should know. She should be able to end this. She heard everything, but not enough.
One day, she would figure it out. She had to. That's what this hearing was for, and she was certain of that. It wasn't delusions of grandeur, it was just fact. She had a gift, and she had to use it.
"I always wanted to be a hero, even when I was small, but my parents hated me and didn't think I could do it. So, I forged their signatures to get into a school, and then they kicked me out, so my brother took me in and finished raising me," she explained, and she didn't know why she was saying it. "When I was seventeen, I got involved in a raid, and was badly injured. There was a specialist doctor that could heal me, but we couldn't afford him, and they refused to pay for it. Another hero, Best J-e-a-n-i-s-t, paid for it."
She didn't know why she was telling him all of this.
"I never spoke to them again. That went on for over a decade. I died when I was in my late twenties."
She had just… died. She had died. And her death had meant nothing, and it was only now hitting her that it didn't mean anything. Just another dead underground hero, and she didn't want it to be senseless this time. She wanted it to mean something.
"I see," Quinlan said quietly, and Botan was still.
"Do you believe me?" she asked, and he nodded.
"I do. I saw the proof for myself. But why did you never tell anyone?"
Why didn't she tell anyone? Why, why, why? She… she didn't know. Maybe it was because…
"Because it's over. I don't want to focus on what I lost. I want to think about what I can do differently this time," she said, and Quinlan nodded.
"I guess that makes sense," he said, and she folded her hands in her lap. "Thank you for telling me."
"Are you going to tell the Council?" she asked, and he shook his head no.
"No, I'm not going to tell the council," he replied, and she tilted her head.
"Why?"
"Because… because I know you. You're a Jedi, in every sense of the word, and I want to see you get the chance to be a Jedi," he replied. "You're level headed, calm, think before you act, and I don't… I don't know what decision they would make, based on the fact that you are technically much older than you look. But… Do you have parents?"
Botan tilted her head down as she thought about it. She had never really thought about it before, but…
"I don't think I do," she replied honestly. "I… I died, and the next thing I knew, I was standing on the steps of the Temple. I never gained any memories of them, of who had me before, and I kept the same name. It was more like I had just been put there."
Quinlan was pale faced at that, and she tilted her head.
"Why do you ask?"
"No, it's just…" Quinlan trailed off. "Don't worry about it."
"Well, now I'm going to worry about it."
"No, you're not. I just think it's odd. Do you think it's possible the Force made you?"
Botan stared at him, and he stared back.
"It's a possibility…? But, that freaks me out, so I'm going to say no for my own mental sanity."
Quinlan let out a breath, and Botan shifted in discomfort, because her stomach was rumbling in a concerning way, because she had refused to eat anything at the medical center.
"Can we eat now? I'm hungry."
"That's what's on your mind? Seriously?"
"What, did you expect me to cry?" she asked mockingly, and he shook his head as he stood up.
"Alright. Let's eat."
Well. That was one person that knew her secret, and she felt… apprehensive. It didn't feel like a weight lifted off her shoulders. There were memories bubbling to the surface of all of her mistakes, and she just…
She would have preferred if they never talked about it. That was all.