Somewhere We Will Meet - Chapter 7 - einsteins98 (2024)

Chapter Text

Back on Mustafar a rotation ago, Jaehyun had sensed something was amiss when Exoluxion forces had abruptly retreated and eventually departed the planet altogether. Doyoung and Haechan had not returned, their commlinks returning feedback whenever Jaehyun attempted to reach out. Then, the other commanders began sending out cryptic communications between one another.

Jaehyun’s mind is capable of vividly recollecting the events in chronological order.

“Is anyone getting through Doyoung and Haechan?” he pleas into his commlink once the Exoluxion Stormtroopers out of sight, retreating past the mountain range south of the fortress.

“Get your ass back on the Rogue127!” Yuta yells over their commlink connection before the line’s cut off.

The request sounds urgent, Jaehyun wasting no time rallying his troops onto their transport ship. “Commander,” the pilot yells during their flight back to the Rogue127, “look!” Jaehyun watches and doesn’t quite believe that a Star Dreadnought, an Imperial-era ship larger than a Star Destroyer, is perfectly aligned next to the Rogue127, an intense exchange of blaster fire carrying out extensive damage to both ships. “sh*t,” Jaehyun curses loudly, the synapses of his brain putting the information together. “This was a set up.” Docking into their assigned hangar proves to be a death mission, but their pilot is experienced enough to navigate through a sea of TIE fighters on the offensive. “Can someone f*cking explain what’s going on?” Jaehyun shouts into his commlink, hoping that someone – anyone – isn’t preoccupied enough to spare him a reply.

Johnny, as it’s always him, is the one to alert him of the Exoluxion infiltration to the cargo sector near their hangar. Explosions rock the Rogue127 as Jaehyun navigates his troops to the sector under attack. A few Stormtroopers attempt stealth attacks at them as they round corridors, but Jaehyun’s instincts kick in, driven by adrenaline when he lands various punches to different targets and disarms all assailants.

When he finds Johnny and the other commanders, they’re aiming their blasters at Stormtroopers surrounding the entrance to the cargo sector. It all happens too fast, more explosions knocking them off their feet. Suddenly, their corridor becomes shrouded in smoke, their vision impaired. Jaehyun pulls up his scanner and observes the silhouettes of heat traces move across his screen, indicating Exoluxion movement.

Jaehyun’s most prominent memory of the battle is the sheer fear he experiences when a hooded figure emerges from the cargo sector, red lightsaber engaged to deflect all blaster fire. Behind the figure are three Inquisitors, Jaehyun recognizing two as Inquisitors Kim Jongin and Oh Sehun whom the Rogue127 crew had captured on Lothal. The other Inquisitor is not someone who Jaehyun’s familiar with, but he later comes to discover the monster’s identity as Inquisitor Kim Minseok. Despite the blanket of smoke, Jaehyun notes that each Inquisitor clutches an important artifact: the Coruscant holocron, the Darksaber, and the Mandalorian storage device now in their possession.

He recalls the ringing against his ears, brain hyper focused on his own heavy breathing as he observes the hooded figure draw closer. They stop a few meters away, their crews alongside Johnny and Jaehyun witnessing in bated breath as the figure removes their hood.

The man’s features are serene, virtually angelic. When looking at him, it’s difficult to process that a man with such a sincere face could be the perpetrator of the carnage around them, Rogue127 crew members and Stormtroopers’ lifeless bodies strewn across the floor.

“I am forever indebted to your team for assembling the missing pieces of our puzzle,” the nameless man announces, a minor smile tugging at his lips. “For that, I will allow you to live.” Behind the nameless man, Inquisitor Kim Minseok answers the beeping of his commlink.

“You’re not doing us any favors,” Johnny grunts, co*cking his blaster. “Was this your plan all along? Get the ship alone to steal what doesn’t belong to you?”

The nameless man’s smile rises impossibly wider, mirth found behind his golden irises. Jaehyun blinks when the monster’s eyes remind him of Haechan’s. “I like you. Which is why I’m intent on letting you live. However, these artifacts were never yours to begin with, either.” Inquisitor Kim Minseok shuts off his commlink line and steps beside the nameless man.

“Grand Inquisitor,” the Inquisitor refers to the nameless man and of course. Jaehyun and Johnny are staring at the goddamn leader of Exoluxion. “The Pariah has been captured by the Second and Third Brothers.”

The Grand Inquisitor breaks into grin that flashes his canines, eyes wrinkling at the corner. Jaehyun’s heart sinks then, and in retrospect he knows it’s because they’re referring to either Doyoung or Haechan, perhaps both. “Excellent. We can finally get started on the final phase.”

From the other side of the corridor, blaster fire starts back up, catching Exoluxion off guard. They hadn’t been expecting Taeil to arrive with the Rogue127’s best troops, easily warding off the Stormtroopers the Exoluxion Inquisitors had surrounded themselves with.

“It’s time to regroup. There are preparations we must proceed with,” the Grand Inquisitor announces to the other three Inquisitors before they’re cutting a path through the Rogue127 forces.

“Oh no you f*cking don’t,” Jaehyun remembers shouting before shooting his stun blaster at Inquisitor Oh who seemingly doesn’t sense the attack coming, body slumping forward when the blue ring of light makes contact with his body. The other Inquisitors had been too preoccupied to help one of their own, the Grand Inquisitor’s pitying look at Inquisitor Oh being the nail on the monster’s coffin.

There’s a chilling, unspoken agreement between the Inquisitors. “What of the Darksaber?” Inquisitor Kim Minseok inquires, clearly referring to Inquisitor Oh’s grip on the Darksaber, the item pressed between the floor and Inquisitor Oh’s stomach.

“There is no need for it now that we have its blueprints. Our priorities have been met. The Darksaber will be recreated, stronger and in alignment with our values.” The Grand Inquisitor clicks his tongue at Inquisitor Oh’s body before stalking away, the other two Inquisitors deflecting any attacks behind him. Then, Jaehyun hallucinates the way the Grand Inquisitor stares at him directly to say, “It serves no purpose now that the there is no Mandalorian to activate it.”

In the end, they’re no match for Exoluxion without the help of the injured Jedi in the medical bay or Doyoung and Haechan, Exoluxion’s element of surprise hindering their efforts further. Johnny emerges from the battle pretty roughed up with several cuts on his arms and sides, Taeil clutching his own broken humerus bone while fussing after Johnny.

General Byun and Yuta arrive too late, the Exoluxion Star Dreadnought setting off into hyperspace after leaving the Rogue127 in its own wreckage. The Jedi Master makes the executive decision to trail after the fleeing Exoluxion forces but doesn’t request backup from the Rogue127 personnel. “He’s going alone? Did he inform anyone of this?” Jaehyun interrogates in a snappish manner, Yuta responding with a mere shrug, the man wiping away excess sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his uniform.

“He’s a f*cking General,” Yuta barks in return a beat later, clearly as frustrated as Jaehyun. “He can do whatever he wants without having to tell us. It’s clear that these artifacts are more important to him than helping his crew out and assessing damage.” The man’s tone comes off resentful, Yuta coming to the same conclusions Jaehyun has, too. This isn’t the first time the Jedi Master prioritizes the mission and Jaehyun understands the gravity of the situation, but an ounce of respect is owed to the Rogue127, one that Master Byun is incapable of providing.

Worst of all, the extensive damage includes hits to the hyperdrive system that prevents them from jumping into hyperspace to chase down Exoluxion. “We’ve sent out a distress signal to the Resistance,” Taeil informs them after diagnostics have been conducted. “However, the closest fleet is three rotations away. We can’t move until then.”

Jaehyun slams a fist on the nearest console and points out through gritted teeth, “We don’t have three rotations. They can be on the other side of the galaxy in that time frame.”

“I know,” Taeil acknowledges steadily once Jaehyun’s breaths even out. “But Master Byun is right behind them and communicating his live location to the Resistance. We must make the ship reparations and follow after them.”

What about Doyoung and Haechan? Jaehyun nearly asks but clamping his mouth shut. They’ve been missing for hours, the sinking realization that Exoluxion’s done something to them settling at the pit of Jaehyun’s stomach. Rather than wallow in his thoughts, he opts to be useful and shares the bizarre exchange of the Inquisitors with the other commanders.

“And you’re sure they referred to someone as a Pariah?” Taeil seeks confirmation, eyes flitting toward Johnny.

“I can corroborate what Jaehyunnie’s saying,” Johnny declares with a brusque nod. The man beside Jaehyun gulps audibly. “They also said the Mandalorian was out of the picture. I think they were referring to Doyoung.”

“But we don’t know for sure,” Jaehyun cuts in abruptly. His mind swims in a sea of denial. “So we need to find out. We need to interrogate that bastard Inquisitor and get answers from him. He’s the only one that knows where both of them are.”

Taeil nods in response, spreading his fingers on the console table's steel between them. “We start there, then.”

To Yuta, Taeil commands, “You’ll start with checking in on the crew and making sure they’re taken care of. Work with Jungwoo on nursing everyone back to health.” His attention shifts to his husband, “Johnny, you’ll be with Jaehyun and cover the engineering demands to get the Rogue127 moving.” The Captain’s eyes move toward Jungwoo who is busy communicating orders to the Medical Bay through his datapad. An uncharacteristic scowl is plastered on his face. “Jungwoo, I’ll need you to get the Jedi out of their comas. We need their help interrogating the Inquisitor.”

Without looking up from the datapad, Jungwoo taps the screen a couple times and says, “Done, Boss. They’ll be awake within the rotation.”

Taeil exhales through his nose, screwing his eyes shut. For a brief second, Jaehyun studies the fatigue on the man’s face, the burden of being a Captain to thousands of crew members shown on his face. “Let’s get to work, boys.”

Blinking himself awake, Doyoung notes that he isn’t surrounded by the last image impressed into his mind; here, there is no lava and the rocky landscape of Mustafar is but a foul memory. Instead, he’s submerged in darkness, the howling breeze of something ringing against his ears. He breathes in, relishing in how easy the oxygen flows into his lungs and throughout his body, allowing him to command his limbs.

Slowly, he lifts his hands to his face, evidently laying on his back because he feels the tug of gravity and its strain against his movements. Doyoung familiarizes himself with the intensity of the gravity, slowly bending at the waist to sit up. He catches a glimpse of a blue, clear material serving as a ground beneath him, its composition solid but resembling water at the surface, just where his body meets it.

Doyoung finds enough support to stagger onto his feet, taking in the rest of his environment. The sky and earth below him are obscured by darkness, clusters of clouds that resemble the shapes of galaxies floating faintly in the backdrop. The floor underneath him proves a portion of a much more expansive series of pathways that lead in various directions. At the thought, the Force calls out to him, revealing that the pathways are a physical and visual manifestation of the Force itself.

Relief, peace, and a displaced sense of familiarity vibrates beneath his skin, Doyoung further comforted by the presence of the Force everywhere around him.

“Hello, Dong.”

Doyoung steps back, a response bubbling in his chest, rising up his throat until it reaches past his lip. “Master?” his voice calls out into the extensive emptiness in front of him. He’s confused again, confused because he doesn’t have a Master, doesn’t know any Jedi of that rank beyond Master Byun and this voice clearly doesn’t belong to him. Unless –

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon,” the voice chimes within his mind, no physical body within his peripheral capable of calling out to him. Doyoung makes sure of it, flitting his eyes from side to empty side, unable to pinpoint where the voice is coming from.

Belatedly, his body registers the possibility that he can move around, torso propelling the movement of his feet below. He turns around, unbearably slow, only to discover a man dressed in Jedi garments standing before him.

Unlike the Jedi Doyoung’s met since his amnesia, the man in front of Doyoung towers over him, perhaps by enough inches to comprise another head. Affection spreads across his chest, the same warmth that blooms whenever he bumps into Johnny in the halls, the other man saying something that launches Doyoung into peals of laughter; the same warmth that blooms when he fiddles with blasters next to Haechan, the younger man watching intently and memorizing the steps perfect to replicate in the future; the same warmth that flushes his cheeks when Jaehyun brushes up next to him and discretely intertwines their fingers as they linger around, listening intently to drill procedures or daily announcements.

“Changmin,” Doyoung breathes out, grinning naturally at man. The other man beams at the name, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“It’s been a while, Dong.”

One of the earliest core memories Jaehyun has of his life is when he’s four years old, hiding behind his grandmother’s legs.

“It’s okay, Jaehyunnie,” she reassures from above, his fingers digging deeper into the fabric of her white dress. She twists her body, bending her knees to squat down to his level. Her hair is a stunning shade of dark brown and even the graying strands could never diminish her beauty. In these dreams, Jaehyun notes that she looks even more radiant in the way the colors contrast with her flawless skin.

“I don’t wanna,” Jaehyun declares, scrunching his nose is disdain even though tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes. “I just want to build things.”

Jaehyun frequently sees her serene smile in his adulthood dreams, her eyes creasing at the corners. “I know sweetie,” she placates once more, her blemished and deft hands coming to pat his head. She has the hands of a fighter, his mother explains one day. “You’ll learn how to build even bigger things at this academy, and you’ll make the loveliest of friends.”

When he finally detaches himself from her side and bids her goodbye, trepidation precedes his steps, Jaehyun clutching onto his luggage tighter with tears cascading down his rosy cheeks.

“Hi, I’m Johnny,” greets a lankier boy with a smile. He materializes out of thin air, standing before Jaehyun, other recruits brushing past them further into the academy grounds. “Do you want some help with your bags?” Johnny must take pity on him, seeing Jaehyun’s snotty nose and hearing hiccupping breaths. Jaehyun nods, Johnny’s hesitant smile blooming into one that radiates friendliness.

“What’s your name?” Johnny asks.

“J – Jaehyun,” he whispers, heartbeat finally returning to normal. A beat of silence stretches between them, the loud conversations between other academy recruits serving as a backdrop.

“Is this your first year at the Coruscant Trade and Science Academy?” They walk past the academy’s botanically lush entrance and into what appears to be the main building, a glass skyscraper.

“Y – yeah,” he stutters, sniffling into the warm Coruscant air.

“That’s cool! This is my third year,” Johnny boldly declares, “so I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of on my watch.” Johnny stops walking to peer over his shoulder, meeting Jaehyun’s gaze. “It’s really nice to meet you!”

It feels like destiny when Jaehyun discovers at an academy showcase that Johnny is the son of Jaehyun’s parents’ best friends. Like Johnny’s parents, Johnny becomes an extension of Jaehyun’s family, the older boy caring for Jaehyun’s grandmother like a second grandchild when she’d be responsible for them during their parents’ Senate meetings. Johnny becomes the main pillar of Jaehyun’s support system by the end of Jaehyun’s first year, and they consequently become attached at the hip.

Meeting Johnny provides Jaehyun with unimaginable emotional strength, ensuring his transition into the new environment of the academy runs smoothly. Johnny surrounds himself with other equally charismatic and intelligent recruits, these people becoming Jaehyun’s friends naturally.

Johnny is there two years later, on Naboo visiting their mutual friends Eunwoo and Yugyeom for the week, digging his fingers into Jaehyun’s shoulder as they watch a galactic broadcast of the Starkiller Base carrying out the unprecedented destruction of the Hosnian system; the five planets are destroyed simultaneously by the most insidious weapon created in galactic history.

Johnny is there when Jaehyun, at the tender age of six, is forced to process the calamity and gather the scattered pieces of his soul, painstakingly gluing himself together while navigating the uncertainty of life as an orphan.

Johnny is there one year after that when Senator Irene Bae, later elected as Queen Bae of Naboo, approaches them with the possibility of adopting them into the Royal Naboo Family. She presents the process as just that: a possibility, guaranteeing their freedom to pursue their dreams while keeping their royal status hidden through anonymity. Unable to conceive children, she’s adopted two daughters on Naboo whom Jaehyun has grown fond of during his visits to the planet but wishes to take on the mantle of guardianship for the sons of her best friends. “We want to be a part of your family,” Johnny confirms after he and Jaehyun come to the conclusion that they need a parent figure in their lives.

Johnny is present when the galaxy erupts into cheerful celebration as news spreads of the First Order’s eradication. They hear rumors of Jedi leading the revolution, but not much changes after the government’s collapse and the Jedi never go public. It all feels too late to him; Jaehyun bitterly wishes the First Order would have collapsed years ago, preventing the destruction of the Hosnian system and sparing the heartbreak of losing his entire family.

“The galaxy is free again,” Johnny points out one day as he’s doing a homework assignment on the floor of Jaehyun’s dorm room. He taps a few items on his datapad before looking over at Jaehyun who’s long stopped working on his own assignment. “What are you going to do after the academy?” It’s Johnny’s last year, their time spent together growing ever more precious.

“Dunno,” Jaehyun responds after contemplating his options. “I like engineering and,” he pauses, licking his lips. He thinks of his grandma’s past as a Resistance Rebel, how she’d courageously defended the rest of the galaxy from the fascist Imperial government of her time. Jaehyun recalls how she’d been the one to warn him of using excessive force that promoted the killing of others in the galaxy. “I want to help make a positive impact on people’s lives. I want to help whoever needs my help.”

Johnny hums, setting the datapad on the carpeted floor before laying down himself, sprawling his limbs in every which way. “Me too,” he says a couple of beats later. “Think I’m gonna move to Naboo and start training with the Royal Naboo Security Forces. You think Irene is gonna let me?”

Jaehyun chuckles, shoulders shaking with laughter. “If mom heard you use her first name, she’d hang you against the castle walls for treason.” Sometimes it feels weird referring to Irene as their mother with the memory of another woman fitting the same role remains. However, she has been and will always be another mother to Jaehyun and he owes her that acknowledgement.

“She would, wouldn’t she?” Johnny’s eyes slide shut, a close-lipped smile gracing his features. “I also wanted to see if maybe the Resistance is looking to recruit. But again, I don’t think I can get in on an engineering academy degree alone. I need battle experience, even though we’re supposedly entering a period of galactic peace.”

“I was thinking of a similar path,” Jaehyun confides. The heavy silence that hangs between them is surprisingly charged with an unknown sentiment but not unwelcome. Jaehyun knows Johnny has other thoughts he’s yet to divulge. He works on two of his multi-variable calculus problem sets before Johnny speaks up again.

“I think I like guys.”

Jaehyun stops his scribbling of the number seven on his datapad to peer down at Johnny. “Huh?”

“I said,” Johnny repeats, licking his dry lips for good measure, “I like guys. I like girls! But I like guys, too.”

“I heard you the first time,” Jaehyun responds slowly, brows furrowed. “I’m just confused as to why it’s a big deal…” He trails off, eyes scanning Johnny’s facial features as the older boy bursts into laughter, closed eyes wrinkling at the corners. “Why are you laughing?”

“That was the most Jaehyun answer ever,” Johnny chortles, bending his waist to sit up on his forearms. “Of course you wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“Again, I’m confused as to why you think I would. Why would anyone have a problem with who you love?”

“In this galaxy, you’d be surprised,” Johnny comments absentmindedly and Jaehyun supposes he must concur. Jaehyun himself has never shied away from his feelings, even back when he was a toddler and young child, his grandma observing his empathy and the depth of his emotions in response to the world around him.

“One day, you’ll fall in love with someone who will think of you as the galaxy,” his grandmother explains to him when Jaehyun’s four years old. In retrospect, it’s an abstract conversation to be having with a child; but back then, Jaehyun hadn’t felt that way.

“Love…” Jaehyun repeats, testing the word against the roof of his mouth and his tongue. He looks down at the ice cream cone in his hand. “Like, the way I like ice cream?”

His grandma chuckles, shuffling Jaehyun on her lap as he feels the warm vibrations of her laughter envelope him in a warm hug. “Yes, kind of like that. But your love will be for a person, and it will be bigger in size.”

“Wow. I love ice cream so much. I’ll love this person more than ice cream?” He looks up from his melting cone, meeting her beautiful gaze. “How will this love feel?”

She’s pensive for a fraction of a second, her smile returning a beat later. “You’ll think about this person all the time, even when you’re not together. You’ll think about having ice cream with them and hugging them, too. You’ll see them and be very happy when they are happy. Think about all the things that make you happy,” his grandma enlightens.

Jaehyun closes his eyes, a trickle of melted ice cream sliding down his fist. He thinks of his grandma, his parents, ice cream, and Bee Dee, the small robot he built to take care of his grandma. He thinks of his new friend, Johnny, from the academy. “Is grandma love?” he asks innocently, opening his eyes to watch the way she nods.

“Yes,” she verbally confirms. “But this person – they’ll be different. They will be the person you will most love, and no one will ever compare.”

At present, the reddening skin of his forearm underneath the scalding water spray startles him out of his memories, Jaehyun immediately blinking away the excess water from around his eyes. Beneath the spray, his digits have also turned pruney. He’s only showering because Johnny had ushered him into his chambers to freshen up, Jaehyun’s mind deeming rest as a hindrance. Inside the freshener, the steam has turned thick enough to feel suffocating, but Jaehyun’s mind is too numb to make further note of it. The lack of oxygen is enough to slowly kill him.

It wouldn’t matter, anyway, not when there’s a Doyoung-sized hole in his chest already doing the work for him.

“Jaehyun!” There’re two knocks against the door of his refresher and Jaehyun has half the thought to reply. Gathering the energy to will his mouth into forming the words is another monumental task he cannot defeat. The voice does not wait for him, instead announcing, “Jaehyun, the Inquisitor is awake.”

He snaps his neck in the direction of the refresher door, jaw tightening. On the other side, the voice continues. “We’ll begin the interrogation once you join us at the bridge,” Johnny explains calmly and Jaehyun is jealous of how he’s able to maintain a calmness Jaehyun is currently incapable of.

Changing into his Resistance uniform feels like going through the motions; his skin feels too dry against the textured fabric of his clothes, scarcely recovering from the unbearable heat on Mustafar. His greatest enemy, however, proves to be his addled mind, decision-making impaired beyond recognition.

When he steps out into the corridors of the Rogue127, the very same mind drowns out the blaring warning siren that screeches into the lower levels of the spaceship. A group of crew members jogs past him, presumably attempting to salvage whatever is left of the Rogue127 and make enough of it operable to ensure their survival.

“Apologies, Commander Jung!” one of them tosses over their shoulder after colliding his elbow into Jaehyun’s bicep. Jaehyun doesn’t register the collision until the crew member points it out.

He also doesn’t register how many muted steps it takes for him to arrive at the Rogue127 bridge where the executive commanders stand around Inquisitor Oh, the monster kneeling on the floor with restraints securely fastened around every limb.

Before Inquisitor Oh stands Taeil donning a very black left eye and broken right arm supported by a Plasto-Cast, a gel sprayed onto broken limbs to provide structure before getting molded into a workable cast for individual recovery needs. At the Inquisitor’s sides are Johnny and Jungwoo, Jaehyun aware that Yuta’s not onboard, currently scouring the surface of Mustafar with his squadron for any sign of them. A few other high-ranking officers stand off near the holotable at the center of the room.

“Oh, Commander Jung,” Johnny clears his throat after the acknowledgement, cutting the tension in the room like a lightsaber. “We were about to start the –”

Jaehyun ignores him altogether, focused solely on the weapons sprawled out on the meeting table. He has a difficult time processing any weapon that’s not the modified DL-44 blaster pistol he’d gifted Doyoung a while back. The otherwise scintillating silver and gold body of the blaster is now charred and damaged, a clear indicator of its owner’s struggle. It’s evidence of their disappearance, Yuta finding it inside the abandoned fortress. Doyoung would never leave behind one of Jaehyun’s gifts.

“Jaehyun?” Taeil’s voice rings through the fog of his brain this time, his name slurred in a way Jaehyun knows Exoluxion landed a few punches on Taeil’s jaw, too.

Exoluxion. They were the party responsible for this and they knew exactly how to play the Rogue127’s crew into their hands. They’re responsible for the Rogue127’s inability to jump into hyperspace, for the death of a handful of crew members, for the loss of the holocrons and the Darksaber’s blueprints. Above all, they’re responsible for the disappearance of Doyoung and Haechan.

At the last thought, Jaehyun’s nostrils flare and his fingers twitch out toward Doyoung’s pistol, roughly taking the weapon into his hand.

He launches at the Inquisitor, closing the distance between them in four quick strides. Jaehyun sidesteps Taeil who stares at him dumbfoundedly, Jaehyun catching a glimpse of realization behind his Captain’s eyes.

Within the next second, all hell breaks loose.

Jaehyun collides the stock of the pistol to the Inquisitor’s head with a force powerful enough to send the monster sideways and collapsing onto his right side. Jungwoo and Johnny’s controlling arms surround him a second later, physically restraining Jaehyun from continuing his assault. Pity, he thinks, because he’d definitely have the Inquisitor talking in a few minutes if they’d allow him to.

“Jaehyun, that’s enough!” Taeil shouts above the commotion, Jaehyun thrashing within Jungwoo and Johnny’s holds. The other crew members seem ready to jump in and resolve any potential conflict. Behind them, Jaehyun catches an alert message appear on the panel of monitors and beep into the room, grabbing the attention of a crew member.

“Don’t do this,” Jungwoo warns in a low voice, “this guy’s not worth it. Plus, we need to get all the information we can if we want to find Doyoung and Haechan.”

From his slumped position on the ground, Inquisitor Oh begins cackling, coughing between his fits of laughter. Jaehyun’s irritation flares, scowl overtaking his expression. “What the f*ck is so funny?”

Inquisitor Oh wheezes, adjusting his head so that he snarls at Jaehyun with his dark, soulless eyes. “You didn’t have to hit me to get information out of me. Those bastards left me behind, I’m prepared to tell you everything I know.”

Ceasing his thrashing, Jaehyun frees himself from Johnny’s grip, Jungwoo letting go of him voluntarily. A mistake, Jaehyun thinks pointedly, because in a second he’s got the barrel of the blaster against Inquisitor Oh’s exposed temple. Around them, no one dares to move, fully understanding that Jaehyun is ready to kill the Inquisitor if anyone intervenes. The monster stops smiling, lips slipping into a frown.

Will it be a disservice to kill the only source of information they have left? Sure. Yet, Jaehyun’s tempted to kill the Inquisitor, regardless.

“It’s a f*cking pity. They broke you out of prison all for you to be caught by us again. Maybe you are that pathetic.” The tension inside the bridge skyrockets. “Now,” Jaehyun seethes, pressing the blaster further into the Inquisitor’s dead-looking flesh, “you’re going to tell us where Doyoung and Haechan are.” He presses the barrel impossibly closer to the Inquisitor’s skull, earning him a grunt from the man below.

“We’re receiving an incoming signal!” A crew member shouts, eyes impossibly large. “The signal, it’s –” The person hesitates and, although Jaehyun can’t see the expression on their face, he watches their back stiffen. “It’s not anyone from the Resistance.” The words they utter are full of consternation, spoken at a normal volume.

An audio accompanies the signal, ringing throughout the command room, an unfamiliar voice oscillating between different communication waves. “Hailing the Rogue127. This is Zhang Yixing from the Black Pearl. Requesting permission to board your ship with our fleet of five spacecraft.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow, grip tightening around the pistol when a familiar voice cuts through his whirring thoughts.

“Johnny, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Haechan! It’s me, Qian Kun from WayV. We know where Exoluxion are headed!”

“Changmin,” Doyoung repeats, the name familiar against the roof of his mouth, as if he’s uttered the name millions of times before. Yet, his feeble mind cannot conjure a single memory of the man from before Tatooine. He stands in front of Doyoung, half a head taller and dressed in dark robes that vaguely resemble the ones Master Byun wears. Abruptly, the man smiles at Doyoung, his lips forming a grin that makes his right eye become smaller than his left.

“You’re my former Master, right? You look…” the same, Doyoung wishes to say, but his frame of reference is nonexistent and he’s once again wracking his brain to understand why it is so insistent on keeping the memories of this man from him.

Changmin raises an eyebrow, the rest of his body unmoving. “You look old,” Changmin observes, tacking on a belated, “and have a lot of piercings. I didn’t know you liked that kind of thing.”

Doyoung finds himself scowling, crossing his arms over his chest as he lets out a quiet scoff. “Well, that happens when you grow up.” He flinches when a flurry of memories including red lightsabers, dead eyes, and a desolate terrain pass through his brain. “Actually, what happened?”

“You lost a fight,” Changmin explains matter-of-factly, like he’s telling Doyoung what he had for breakfast.

Again, Doyoung speaks without thinking, interjecting swiftly, “I don’t remember it all that well.”

“Trust me, you lost,” Changmin says again, eyebrows fully pinched as he looks around the empty space surrounding them. The words sting, Doyoung’s wounded pride cowering in on itself.

“What is this place?”

Despite the distance between them, Doyoung hears the Master hum gently. “It’s referred to as the World Between Worlds, a mystical plane within the Force that exists between time and space. We’re everywhere and nowhere at the same time.”

The image of a bright red lightsaber flashes past his consciousness. “Park Chanyeol,” is the name that slips past Doyoung’s lips, the wielder of the red lightsaber from his memories and the man behind dead eyes.

Changmin’s grin only grows wider. “So, you do remember.” He folds his hands behind his back, taking a step forward. His left boot thumps softly against the floor while his voice carries into the space between them once more. “That’s good.” He takes a step, then another, evenly approaching Doyoung who’s glued in place.

“Why?” Doyoung questions. Did Doyoung remembering any of this indicate that he can get his memories back? Have his memories been here all along?

“It means you still have a chance,” Changmin answers cryptically, now only a few feet from Doyoung.

“Chance?” Doyoung murmurs the question, tilting his head to the right. He can feel the tension building at his furrowed eyebrows.

Changmin finally drops his smirk, coming to a stop an arm’s length from Doyoung. “To live.”

To Live. Ah, so Doyoung had died or is, at the very least, on the verge of death. Doyoung swallows the knot formed at his throat with a forceful gulp, immediately turning his head to look at the maelstrom brewing on the horizon, dark clouds consuming what little light remains. “Tell me what’s really going on,” Doyoung pleads, gaze returning to the man.

Against the darkness, Changmin sternly observes Doyoung, a flash of pity gracing his features before that too is gone. “I’m here to finish your training.”

“Aren’t you dead?” Doyoung questions unexpectedly, the force behind the stringed words jarring him a bit. “Isn’t it a little late for that?” This question holds sorrow Doyoung is unfamiliar with.

The man in front of him shakes his head, appearing a bit disappointed with Doyoung’s sudden outburst. The disappointment is gone once he’s finished with the action, his boots thumping until he’s closed the distance and his shoulder brushes past Doyoung’s.

When Changmin finally speaks, he does so when he’s well past Doyoung, the clanking of his boots indicating that he’s still walking in the other direction. Doyoung whips around, examining his old Master retreating further down the path. “One is never too old to learn, Dong.”

“Okay,” Doyoung repeats, instincts mirroring Changmin’s stance. Most notably, his arm muscles flex before arranging his arms behind his back. “What’s the lesson, Master?”

For a frightening second, Doyoung believes Changmin will continue down the path and leave him behind, stuck in this wedge between time and space. Changmin does something worse: he comes to a stop, unwilling to face Doyoung. The tranquility that’d spread throughout Doyoung’s limbs just a few minutes ago is no longer there, replaced by the chilling prospect of what is to come.

“Live,” Changmin announces boldly into the darkness, then, hesitantly, shifts his arms out of view. Doyoung hears a lightsaber engaging before his eyes catch a glimpse of the brilliant blue saber appear from Changmin’s right hand. Gloved fingers tighten their hold on the silver hilt, their movement directing Doyoung’s attention back to Changmin’s side profile. It doesn’t last long, because the man is turning around to once again face Doyoung, sadness and turmoil contorting this new expression. “Or die.”

“I won’t fight you,” Doyoung announces a beat later with an exhaustion that rivals that of someone who’s lived a thousand years. All these emotions that have been carefully locked away in a locket within Doyoung’s mind suddenly resurface. “I’m so tired of fighting everyone.”

Stepping forward, lightsaber downcast, Changmin’s frightening gaze meets Doyoung’s head on. The intent behind Changmin’s eyes is killer, fear willing Doyoung to take a step back to mirror Changmin’s own movement. The other man steps again, drawing closer, but Doyoung is quick to attempt putting distance between them. “I’ve heard that before,” Changmin delivers with a swing of his lightsaber which Doyoung instinctively stops by engaging his own lightsaber. Their blades meet in a cross-shape, the beautiful colors of the otherwise violent exchange illuminating their features.

Slowly, a smirk jerks onto Changmin’s lips just as he places more force behind the swing, launching Doyoung backward. Changmin steps forward, closing their gap and hurling into another flurry of attacks. His attacks are familiar, Doyoung judiciously interpreting his movements and blocking the opposing lightsaber from meeting his body. Nonetheless, the difference in their techniques and power becomes visible as Changmin continues his onslaught, twirling his lightsaber behind his back to gather momentum for another relentless assault.

Doyoung doesn’t realize how far back Changmin has pushed him until the ground beneath him shifts, his brain unable to process their surroundings further because Changmin’s overwhelming power forces his attention back on him. Parrying simply isn’t enough. Doyoung must halt Changmin’s impetus to get the other man to hesitate and give Doyoung enough time to counterattack. Rather than push back at the next blow directed at his arm, Doyoung disengages his lightsaber, Changmin staggering at the sudden loss of the opposing force. It’s the perfect window for Doyoung’s right foot to coil with enough force for a roundhouse kick, landing on Changmin’s right temple perfectly.

Unfortunately, Changmin recuperates quickly, and the recovery is punctuated by the dazzling smile the man directs at Doyoung. Emboldened by the success of his counterattack, Doyoung smirks back. “Looks like you don’t have much left to offer,” Doyoung asserts in faux confidence, his entire body ransacked by a chill at the smirk Changmin returns.

Changmin’s grip on his lightsaber changes, placing one hand at the bottom of the hilt while the other rests at the top just below the plasma of the saber. “I haven’t taught you everything,” Changmin announces before he swings at the floor beneath them and cuts a perfect line into its material. The floor beneath Doyoung shatters in a glass-like manner and plunges him into darkness.

“Jaehyun?” Renjun bids behind him, Jaehyun ceasing his incessant foot tapping against the lift floor. He’d asked Renjun to refer to him by his first name after the younger lieutenant kept referring to him by his official title back on Mandalore. Jaehyun’s slightly relieved to know that Renjun can confide in him this way.

Turning his head over his shoulder, Jaehyun asks, “What is it, Renjun?” The younger man worries his bottom lip, presumably unsure of how to articulate his thoughts.

“Are they…” Renjun trails off, Jaehyun focusing his gaze at the glass wall of the lift that overlooks the hangar they’ve assigned for the Black Pearl and the four other ships. “Are they okay?” Clueless, Jaehyun is not, and he knows very well that Renjun is referring to Doyoung and Haechan despite his inability to utter their names.

“I’m not sure,” Jaehyun admits, and it feels like the first admission to himself since they’d both gone missing. “But they will be.”

“Has the Inquisitor divulged their location yet?” Renjun asks apprehensively, Jaehyun studying the way the younger man’s reflection depicts his worry. Jaehyun isn’t aware of the interrogation’s specifics since Taeil had kicked him out of the bridge for lack of a better phrase after the stunt he’d pulled. To the captain, Jaehyun was in no way capable of upholding interrogations that would abide by Resistance procedures. Begrudgingly, Jaehyun knows Taeil is in the right.

“We’re in the process. It seems like he’s raised some demands, and everyone is hesitant about meeting them,” Jaehyun explains with a sigh. His eyes flicker toward the massive hangar doors slowly opening, a thick, blue energy field protecting them from the vacuum of space. From the horizon, five ships approach. “But I think we’ll be able to get help from our old friends.”

Jaehyun and Renjun are halfway across the hangar when the loading ramp of the nearest ship begins to descend, the eager pair of Ten and Xiaojun running toward them.

“Jaehyun!” Ten yells into his ear, Jaehyun clasping his hand in Ten’s own. The Mandalorian leans in, hugging Jaehyun with his free arm. He pats Jaehyun’s back with a force that leaves Jaehyun breathless.

“Ten,” Jaehyun wheezes, “it’s great to see you.”

“Commander Jung!” It’s Xiaojun this time, Jaehyun watching the man’s smile appear over Ten’s shoulder as they pull apart. Xiaojun extends his arm out, waiting for Jaehyun to take his hand. Jaehyun does. “Am I happy to see you!”

“As I am glad to see you,” Jaehyun nods. He views the other Mandalorians from the camp, Leader Qian, Yangyang, Hendery, and Winwin the Armorer step off the loading ramp and saunter over. Two other Mandalorians Jaehyun has never met before are behind them.

“I apologize that we aren’t able to provide further hospitality in the form of a proper welcome, but you’ve caught us at a bad time.” Jaehyun gestures to the state of disarray around them.

Ten’s grin falters, lips downturned. Yangyang arrives at their side in that moment to crudely add, “Yeah, your ship is pretty f*cked up.” Hendery jabs his elbow into Yangyang’s ribs.

“Exoluxion raided our ship while most of our commanders were on Mustafar carrying out a mission,” Jaehyun calmly explains, having gone through the explanation a million times in his head. Each iteration does not help lessen the blow nor the severity of their predicament.

Xiaojun looks around, eyes landing on Renjun and nodding at him with a smile. Jaehyun can’t see him, but he thinks Renjun returns the gesture. “Where’re the Jedi?” he asks, Jaehyun’s blood running cold.

“Leader Qian.” The entire group turns around to find Johnny strolling over to them, Chenle lazily following suit.

“Vice-Captain Suh,” Leader Qian Kun greets and pulls Johnny into a hug, the loud pats to their backs resounding. “I’m glad to see you’ve made a full recovery.”

“We don’t know where Doyoung and Haechan are,” Jaehyun announces loudly after growing annoyed with the idle exchanges, garnering everyone’s attention. They don’t have time for pleasantries; Jaehyun thinks they’re already stretched thin by accepting WayV’s beacon message. WayV have laid their lives on the line for them, though, and Jaehyun knows this is the least the Rogue127 crew can do for them.

From his place, Johnny sighs defeatedly. “Jaehyun’s right. We’re still gathering intel from what happened a rotation ago, but it appears Exoluxion have captured Doyoung and Haechan.”

“We’re too late,” Ten mutters, earning him a scowl from Jaehyun.

“What do you mean ‘too late’?”

Xiaojun’s face contorts into a bizarre expression, head rotating to his left before looking at his right and finding who he’d been looking for. Jaehyun watches Xiaojun beckon the two unfamiliar Mandalorians from before, the shorter men standing at the forefront of the group.

“Johnny, Jaehyun. I’d like to introduce you to my uncle, Zhang Yixing.” Yixing, the man Xiaojun singles out, has a sharp face with even sharper features, a fading scar marring the length of his left cheek. Xiaojun is nervous, shifting his weight from one left to the other. Jaehyun waits, prompting the other man to continue with a raise of his eyebrow. “He’s the one who created the blueprints you brought to us.”

Choking beside Jaehyun, Johnny eventually clears his throat but not quick enough to stop the barrage of Jaehyun’s mind. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” is the first question to slip past Jaehyun’s lips.

Xiaojun has the decency to look remorseful at Jaehyun’s valid criticism, imperceptibly lowering his head. His uncle is there immediately, a hand on the younger’s shoulder. “Please do not blame Xiaojun for his inability to share my existence with you. I long ago asked him not to. However, he deemed you trustworthy enough for him to reach out to me and explain your situation.”

“Forgive the interruption,” Johnny excuses, using his hand to physically pause the conversation, “but who are you? Beyond Xiaojun’s uncle, I mean. Why did you make blueprints for the Darksaber and hand them to Exoluxion?” Jaehyun is thankful for Johnny, the questions being the subsequent ones he’d been thinking of.

Releasing a deep breath, Yixing squares his shoulders. He wears similar armor to the WayV Mandalorians, but his clothing is different. The man’s style oddly resembles Doyoung’s bounty freestyle. Doyoung. Jaehyun’s heart yearns for Doyoung by his side.

“I wish to divulge my origins to you, but I must selfishly ask that you place your trust in me first.” Licking his lips, Yixing studies the hangar for something or someone. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he looks at Johnny once more. “Are there any other Jedi on board the ship at the moment?”

“Just Taeyong and Mark,” Jaehyun offers a beat later, tone defensive as the impatience gets the best of him. “They’re preoccupied interrogating an Inquisitor. Why are you asking about the Jedi?”

Yixing looks over at his young companion, a wordless exchange save for the nod the other unidentified man gives Yixing. The gesture is oddly reminiscent of the interactions Doyoung and Haechan have with one another when Jaehyun knows they’re talking into each other’s’ heads. Jaehyun’s eyes widen, the possibility of the –

“Those names are unfamiliar to me,” Yixing comments over his breath, shaking his head silently. “That means they pose no threat of jeopardizing what I am about to tell you.”

Opening his mouth to respond to the man, Jaehyun is interrupted by Yixing once more. “My name is Zhang Yixing, and I was a Jedi under the New Jedi Order. I was present during the Massacre on Ossus seven orbits ago.” He gulps audibly, Jaehyun watching his Adam’s apple bob. “I was there when Exoluxion executed my peers and almost ended my life in their pursuit of the Darksaber blueprints I’d drafted.”

Jaehyun blinks, processing the words. If Doyoung hadn’t confided to Jaehyun his Jedi past, Jaehyun’s mind would be reeling at the information. “How did you survive that?”

Yixing’s composure shifts abruptly to one more guarded. “He can tell you about that later,” Xiaojun nervously intercepts, clearly attempting to steer the conversation in another direction. “What’s important is what we have to tell you!”

“You said Exoluxion took Doyoung and Haechan with them,” Kun recalls the statement made earlier in attempt to aid Xiaojun. “That means that their final phase has been set in motion…”

“You people aren’t making any sense,” Jaehyun tersely complains. “I’m trying to follow what you’re saying, but you’re not making it easy. Xiaojun, what is it that you have to tell us?”

“Their final phase!” Yangyang is yelling now, Jaehyun coming to the sinking realization that the entire Mandalorian group knows what’s going on. Are they being cryptic on purpose?

In the end, it’s Yixing who propositions for their trust in exchange for information. “I want to explain as succinctly as I can, but in the privacy of just you,” his eyes flicker from Jaehyun toward Johnny, “and the Vice-Captain. No one else who hasn’t been to Mandalore is allowed to join us.”

Johnny nods hastily. “That can easily be arranged. Now. Please answer Jaehyun’s question. What is it that you’re here to tell us?”

The leading Mandalorians exchange peculiar looks until Xiaojun steps forward and opens his mouth. “Exoluxion are in pursuit of a Jedi holocron with the names of all the living Force-sensitive beings! The holocron is real and it’s on Ossus!”

When Doyoung opens his eyes, a thick fog impairs his vision. He makes out the vague silhouettes of other individuals running past him, their steps heavy. Doyoung does not feel ill intent toward them, the soldiers clearly on their side, but his thoughts are interrupted when he notes the bright green light coming from his hands.

He’s holding a lightsaber, not like his own, a green hue that meets a silver and black hilt. Most jarring of all, both his real hands are present, his skin caked by splotches of dry blood; it does not appear to be his own. The faint light of blaster fire shines through the thick clouds, a blinding azure glow in the form of a saber drawing closer. “Forward!” An indistinguishable voice cuts through the air with a yell.

“Master!” Doyoung’s voice is young, so young against his ears.

A few paces away, Changmin’s muddy outline blocks a stray blaster fire before whipping around to face Doyoung. “Hurry up, Dong!” His voice, too, sounds far too young from what he’d had moments ago. Doyoung’s mind continues reeling, even when Changmin goes back to whatever is more important than Doyoung. He cuts through more blasts, sparks flying around his body like fireworks lighting the sky.

Changmin deflects a few blasts consecutively and in the same direction, but even the fog is not thick enough to conceal the explosion they set off when they land on a hefty weapon. Around them, comrades and enemies alike yell in anguish, downed by blaster fire. “We’re on a battlefield. This is the Battle of D’Qar,” Doyoung manages inaudibly, body responding negatively to the horrors around him. Why do the words come out of his mouth so easily when he can’t even recall the memory ever happening?

An explosion further away and just over Changmin’s shoulder pulls him out of his reverie, the other man twisting his torso to direct his attention at Doyoung. “Yeah, no kidding,” Changmin snorts at Doyoung’s previous observation.

“This was one of our first missions,” Doyoung announces against the backdrop of exploding artillery. “Why are we here? What happened here? Why am I saying all these things as if I know what’s going but can’t remember anything?”

A loud, whirring noise draws their attention to its general vicinity, a transport ship touching down on the verdant wetlands around them to deploy more troops into battle. “You tell me,” Changmin yells over the noise cryptically.

“I don’t understand!” Doyoung wails, suddenly frustrated by this entire scenario. Multiple explosions go off behind Changmin, his figure unwavering and illuminated by the blinding orange ball of fire behind him.

Scoffing this time, Changmin directs a fed-up expression at him. “That’s your problem.”

“Master, wait!” Doyoung pleads all for Changmin to toss over his shoulder a loud and quick, “Gotta keep up!” before sprinting into denser fog.

“What about my training?” Doyoung demands loudly, chest heaving with anxiety as the explosions and blaster fire grow louder with each step he takes, attempting to catch up with Changmin.

Around him, the fog speaks to him in younger Changmin’s voice: “This is your training!”

Jaehyun navigates the reduced-in-number group into his workshop, the ideal conversation point for either party. Among their five-ship fleet, the Mandalorians had brought willing volunteers to assist in the upcoming battles, mind set on all-out war against Exoluxion. Kun explains how the rest of the capable warriors had stayed behind on Mandalore to protect the WayV camp. Jaehyun recognizes how this decision could potentially jeopardize the fragility of the group, which makes Jaehyun believe that whatever the men have to tell them now could change the course of the conflict.

As soon as the metal doors slide closed, Xiaojun begins yapping. “I’m sorry!” he apologizes profusely, bowing in a ninety-degree angle at Jaehyun and Johnny who stand with crossed arms. Behind them, Renjun and Chenle clear their throats in unison. Despite the Mandalorian insistence that only Jaehyun and Johnny be allowed to listen to the news, Jaehyun had argued that Renjun and Chenle knew of their interactions and there would be no point excluding them.

“I wanted to tell you all earlier but Doyoung said to hold it off if possible and even then –”

“Doyoung told you not to tell us about his Mandalorian past?” Jaehyun drops his arms to his sides, hands balling into fists. He knows that it’s in the past now but understanding how guarded Doyoung has had to be the entire time makes his heart ache. Doyoung didn’t deserve that, doesn’t deserve any of this.

Xiaojun looks even more remorseful but then Ten’s cutting into the conversation. “I was there, too; I can’t really speak on his behalf, but it looked Doyoung wanted to tell you all when the time was right for him.”

“He did end up telling us,” Johnny sighs beside Jaehyun, and Jaehyun anchors his thoughts from straying elsewhere. They let the Mandalorian continue explaining himself.

“My uncle,” Xiaojun explains ruefully, “cut off communications with me a long time ago. Out of self-preservation but as well as for my safety, too.”

“My proximity to Xiaojun would only put him in harm’s way if I stayed close to him. Instead, I forced myself to keep a distance and hoped to be protecting of him from afar. I gave Xiaojun a one-way communication beacon for the day he would most need me, and that day proved to be when you found the Darksaber blueprints,” Yixing explains calmly, his body language relaxed. Jaehyun senses the man is wise beyond his years.

The workshop’s doors slide open, a stern Taeil walking through the chamber and commanding the room’s attention on him.

“Captain Moon, sir!” Chenle and Renjun greet in unison, Taeil paying them no mind. He swirls around and presses his finger against the datapad plastered on the wall, the doors sliding shut with a hiss and click. No one speaks a word as Taeil stomps over to the center, standing perfectly between his crew and the WayV Mandalorians.

“Who are you and why are you on my ship?” he asks squarely, the Mandalorians evidently thrown off by his commanding tone.

“Ah, Captain Moon, these are –”

“I’m not speaking to you, John,” Taeil cuts him off with no titles or honorifics, eliciting a sigh from Johnny. Ouch. I tried, Johnny mouths at Jaehyun who scoffs gently.

Stepping forward, Yixing brings his right fist to the center of his chest and spreads his hand open over the area. “Thank you for allowing us onto your ship, Captain Moon. I am Zhang Yixing, former Jedi Knight and descendant of the first Mandalorian to wield the Darksaber, Tarre Vizsla. This is my apprentice, Park Jisung,” he nods once in the direction of the younger man behind him. The boy looks as young as Haechan, perhaps even younger, and it jars Jaehyun’s core every time someone this age is involved in galactic warfare.

“I was born off Mandalore on the Inner Rim planet of Jakku and returned to our home planet shortly before the Great Purge when I was roughly twenty orbits old. I was recruited by Jedi Master Kim Junsu, one of the five founding Jedi of the New Jedi Order after I attempted to stifle the onslaught carried out during the Mandalorian Great Purge.” Yixing’s expression appears forlorn, exhausted even.

“There are no records of you from the Massacre on Ossus,” Taeil declares matter-of-factly, “so I’m imploring you to be truthful. Who are you, really?” Jaehyun blinks owlishly. Taeil has access to Jedi records? This is news to him.

To the side, Xiaojun makes a sound of protest behind his throat. Yixing ignores him in favor of doubling down on his claims. “My omittance from the New Commonwealth records is by design. Someone with access to the archives has been manipulating the information stored to cover their own tracks.” Jaehyun knows as much, knows there is a mole within the Resistance feeding information to Exoluxion and other dangerous parties.

Taeil scowls, lips snarling. “You’re accusing someone within the Resistance – someone within this crew – of treason?”

“Before I answer truthfully,” Yixing announces, “please allow me to finish my explanation.”

“Make it quick. I have a ship to repair,” Taeil deadpans, frosty tone plunging the room into silence.

Yixing remains unwavering. “My Master Kim Junsu did not want others to know about me. He limited my interactions with my peers as I was the sole Mandalorian of the New Jedi Order. Or so I believed, until recently,” Yixing trails off, shaking his head slightly. Doyoung, Jaehyun’s brain supplies, he’d been a Mandalorian Jedi, too. “We were sent on the most covert operations, so the majority of our time was spent with each other. I did not know of Kim Dongyoung’s Mandalorian ancestry as his own Master kept that hidden from the rest of us.”

“You lot were pretty secretive with one another for a group that wanted to bring peace to the rest of the galaxy,” Jaehyun harshly comments with a mutter, Ten snorting back the laughter from his mirrored stance.

Yixing doesn’t seem take offense to his words, smiling instead with one side of his face. “You are correct. Ultimately, the secrets are what led to our downfall.”

“Were you there the day of the massacre?” Johnny probes apprehensively.

Nodding, Yixing exhales loudly. “I’d only been to Ossus three times in my life, and the third was my last. Master Kim Junsu and I had been working on replicating my ancestor’s Darksaber which had been destroyed before the Great Purge. We compiled the blueprints of our project in a storage device that –”

“We found on Lothal and went to Mandalore in hopes of being able to decipher,” Jaehyun breathes out, finishing the man’s thought. Yixing nods, his expression softening.

Taeil’s reaches behind him and pulls out the heavy hilt of the Darksaber from his Captain’s vest, offering the lightsaber to the men before him. “This Darksaber – are you responsible for this replica?”

Breath hitching, Yixing takes the Darksaber into his hands and studies it, mouth agape. “Xiaojun did not mention you had the Darksaber. How do you –”

“Doyoung found it on the Outer Rim planet of Tatooine,” Jaehyun clarifies, swallowing the knot that forms in his throat at his love’s name. “Johnny and I were assigned to find it as well, but Doyoung’s the one who managed to save it from the clutches of Exoluxion after we were taken hostage by them.”

“You don’t understand,” Yixing breathes out, hesitantly pressing the hilt’s clutch and engaging the Darksaber. Its dark color is darker than the black of space. “This is the original replica I made of the Darksaber. I haven’t seen it in years, not since I lost it on Ossus trying to escape.”

They allow for Yixing to collect his thoughts in silence, but his genuine shock allows for Jaehyun to believe his words further. “It doesn’t make sense to me, either; I spent countless orbits attempting to figure where it had gone after my Master and the other Jedi were killed. I’d given up all hope, confidently hoping that it’d been destroyed on Ossus so that it could pose no threat to anyone else. And now, it’s in my hands again.”

Winwin the Armorer steps out of the shadows to examine the weapon, humming appreciatively at its work. The Darksaber remains engaged, passed down from Mandalorian to Mandalorian. “Had I been shown the Darksaber back on Mandalore, I would have ascertained its masterful craft. Sir Zhang is more knowledgeable on the weapon but work of this caliber was prevalent a millennia ago.”

“Great,” Johnny sighs loudly, “so all parties have been keeping secrets from each other. Discouraging to hear. Now, how do we move forward with stopping Exoluxion and getting Doyoung and Haechan back to us safely?”

Jaehyun decides it’s time to address his own elephant in the room. To Yixing, he candidly questions, “If you were on Ossus, why aren’t you dead?” Jaehyun needs to piece it all together within the recesses of his mind, and this piece is not fitting without Jaehyun deciphering all angles.

“Like the coward I was, I fled. The Massacre – it was all my fault,” Yixing confesses, pain coming through his voice. “Master Kim Junsu and I had been naïve to believe that no one within the New Jedi Order would want to harness the power of the Darksaber for their own agenda. As there has been historically only one of its kind, it’s not widely known that the Darksaber has ten times more power than the common lightsaber. We didn’t know that outlining a set of blueprints could draw such attention.”

“You mean you were betrayed by the Jedi who now comprise Exoluxion?” Jaehyun connects the dots with the knowledge he’s gained from Doyoung and Haechan.

“You know a lot,” Yixing points out a moment later. “I take it you’re close to Doyoung and Haechan.”

Jaehyun brushes the comment off. “So you were there when Exoluxion formed. Who are they? Why did they betray the New Jedi Order?”

With a flick of his wrist, Yixing disengages the Darksaber and hands it back to Taeil in a surprising turn of events. Taeil takes it wordlessly. Clearing his throat, Yixing, smooths his arms to his sides. “Exoluxion are all former Jedi Knights and Padawans who had a history with the Dark Side of the Force. Master Kim Junsu and I were never in their presence for more than a few hours at a time, but you could always just tell something was…” Yixing mutters, “off about them.

“I don’t think anyone ever realized the extent of their ambition, however,” Yixing sighs. “But I don’t think their ambitions were fed by themselves. I’ve been a long-time proponent of the theory that someone of a higher rank was feeding them information on the Darksaber and its power. Someone who knew a lot about Mandalore and its history as well as the Jedi artifacts for Ossus.”

“One of the Masters?” Johnny questions with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“One of the Masters,” Yixing confirms, nodding.

“The Masters – you’re talking about one of the founding five you referred to earlier?”

Yixing nods again, setting into a pace. Without knowing the key players, Jaehyun can’t help with narrowing down any sort of identification. “Okay,” Jaehyun relents instead, “so, you’re saying a Jedi Master convinced his students into joining a cult within a cult, getting said students to turn on the overarching cult, and somehow managed to kill the entire cult. How does that work if all the Jedi Masters of the time were killed? Wouldn’t it be counterproductive to get all your students to kill you?”

“When you put it like that, it doesn’t make any sense. However, I’m also in the dark about the interrelationships of those on Ossus during the time. I can only offer my observations based on the time I spent there.” Yixing opens his mouth to continue his thoughts when an unsuspecting voice cuts through the air.

“That’s not right. Master Byun survived the massacre along with Jedi Knight Lee. Even Doyoung did,” Johnny supplies in grouse voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

When Jaehyun’s attention returns to Yixing, the man is frozen in place, face pale. “Yixing?” Jaehyun beckons, snapping the man out of his reverie.

“I’m sorry – could you repeat that name?”

“Master Byun? Jedi Knight Lee?” Johnny supplies again and Yixing’s entire demeanor changes.

“That surname… Where is Master Byun?” Yixing inquires, now exchanging looks with Jisung. “Is he on the ship?”

“No?” Taeil answers truthfully, but it comes out as a hesitant question instead. “He’s currently tracking down Exoluxion through hyperspace and transmitting his location.”

Yixing releases a shaky breath, running a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed by where this conversation is headed. “This is bad,” Yixing mutters over his breath but Jaehyun’s trained ears decipher the claim.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Jaehyun presses, aware of the growing tension between them.

“Your Master Byun,” Yixing breathes out, “was part of the Exoluxion group on Ossus.”

When Doyoung blinks this time, the battle is over. Sorrow, a deep sense of loss, and dread flood his bloodstream. Changmin stands in the distance with three other figures, presumably commanders of some sort, as Doyoung kneels beside a hoverstretcher. The person on the stretcher groans in pain, their face stained with the pallor of someone slipping into unconsciousness. Doyoung reaches out a small hand toward the person, their hand coming to grasp his own. In the silence of the battle’s aftermath, Doyoung shudders when the person’s breathing becomes labored, their eyes widening at the simultaneous conclusion. They’re dying.

“It’s okay,” Doyoung lies, voice wobbly. “It’s going to be okay,” he lies again to the person, tears streaming down his cheeks. The person’s breathing slows a few moments later, eventually ceasing altogether, their wide and terrified eyes piercing holes into Doyoung’s soul. Guiltily, Doyoung releases the person’s unmoving hand to gently close their eyelids.

From a distance, Doyoung hears Changmin say “I’ll be right back” to the other commanders; all Beneath his hand, Doyoung focuses on the blood staining the Resistance uniform of someone who had been alive only moments ago.

Boots scuff against the dirt and scattered flames across the battlefield. “Come on, Dong. The battle’s not over. There are still remnants of the First Order here that we need to drive away.” When Doyoung doesn’t spare him a glance, Changmin clicks his tongue. “Is there a problem?”

“We lost so many,” Doyoung whispers. He knows they’re doing the right thing, helping liberate the people of D’Qar. The First Order had no right to invade this planet and exert their free will on the people here. Doyoung also knows that most of the fighters on the Resistance’s side are recruits, people who’ve joined the fight knowing the risks they’d be exposed to. It doesn’t make their deaths any more justifiable.

“There’s always a price to be paid,” Changmin answers coldly, Doyoung’s eyes flitting up at the man. His expression is as cold as his words, eyes apathetic.

“It was my fault,” Doyoung blames himself. “They were following my orders. I got them killed!” He’s yelling, a few shadows around them stopping in their tracks to observe the exchange between them. An unknown emotion passes over Changmin’s face, lips pursing into an eventual frown.

“Come here,” Changmin announces with a glance at the shadows around them. Changmin steps forward and gently grips Doyoung’s left bicep, leading them down a path as they walk alongside each other. He lets go a moment later, leaning down to speak directly to Doyoung. “This is war, Dongyoung,” Changmin announces above a murmur, Doyoung shuddering inwardly at his old name. “As Jedi, it’s our job to lead. That doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes.”

“But our mistakes cost lives,” Doyoung points out incredulously. With a hitch of his breath, he asks, “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it does,” Changmin replies immediately, shaking his head and pleadingly staring back at Doyoung. Can he fault Doyoung for making such an assumption when all he’s shown Doyoung is how to kill people who don’t believe the same way he does?

“This…” Doyoung attempts to articulate once more, “This isn’t what I trained for.”

“We must adjust to the times,” Changmin rationalizes, speaking with newfound patience. “When my master taught me, we were keepers of the peace. But now, to win this battle, to win this conflict, I must teach you to be a soldier.”

He thinks of the boy with red hair from his memories who’d hated fighting as much as he had, the same boy who’d endured unimaginable violence. Haechan, his mind supplies the name slowly. “Is that all I’ll have to teach my own Padawan one day? How to fight and kill indiscriminately?”

Changmin’s expression sours further. “You know, teaching’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Deeming the conversation over, he turns around and begins walking toward the group of commanders. Doyoung follows behind closely.

“Really?” Doyoung questions accusatorially. “What makes you say that?”

The Jedi Master continues to walk away from him but abruptly brings his hand to his temple, as if attempting to fend off a growing headache. “I’m joking,” Changmin says with a shrug. Here, under the dense fog and low light of wherever they are, Doyoung finally notices how much younger Changmin is at present. After all, if Doyoung is in a child’s body, his Master must be in a younger version of himself as well.

“You’re joking?” Doyoung demands much more harshly, hands coming to ball into fists at his side.

“Yeah, I’m joking.” The admittance is laced with defeat and exhaustion, emotions Doyoung knows all too well.

“How can you joke at a time like this?” Doyoung retorts, but he knows the other man will not give him a proper answer. His shoulders sag, watching the dirt kicking up underneath his boots. Allowing his gaze to linger below for a second later, Doyoung opts to look up just as Changmin takes a few steps toward him.

“What would you prefer I do, then?” the other man snaps in agitation, clearly frustrated with their situation. “Tell me. What do you want? You want me to be more serious?”

“I’d prefer it!” Doyoung shouts, chin held high and willing his legs to hold their ground.

At this age, there is a height difference of a head between them, Changmin bending slightly to meet Doyoung’s gaze head on. “Listen. I’m teaching you how to lead, how to survive. And to do that, you’re going to have to fight.”

An explosion detonates in the fog above them, illuminating the area around them. Changmin turns around, the enemies in the distance catching his attention. Bodies and charred machinery lay nearby, all casualties of war. There’s distant screaming, commanders yelling orders to get their troops to mobilize. Doyoung looks down in between him and his Master. “What if I wanna stop fighting?” He whispers over the distant artillery fire and footsteps of faceless soldiers running to battle.

As Doyoung peers up, Changmin glares down and holds his gaze. He can see a universe of emotions behind Changmin’s dark brown eyes and all too suddenly, the window into the man’s soul is gone.

“Then you’ll die.” Changmin walks away, engaging his blue lightsaber before commanding his featureless soldiers to move forward.

When Doyoung blinks, the scenery changes. He’s on a different planet, a planet that breathes life into Doyoung. The ground beneath him is grassy, numerous species growing in this sector alone. It vaguely reminds Doyoung of the moon Ajan Kloss, its connection to the Force augmented. A series of stormy clouds billow in the skies above, mustard and gray in color, the wind’s speed picking up. Before him, perched atop of a low-sloped hill, stand the ruins of a building made of brick and mortar. A Jedi Temple, the voices of the Force enlighten.

Doyoung steps forward tentatively, noting the brown sleeves of the Jedi overtunic covering his arms. An indescribable sensation calls to him, fate personified, and Doyoung finds himself making his way up the flat hill until he reaches a dark entrance chamber.

He hears them before he sees them, a group of eight hooded figures wearing Jedi robes and speaking in hushed tones near a descending staircase that presumably leads to lower floors within the temple. The wall behind the staircase is magnificent, its blue runes intricate and vaguely resembling patterns Doyoung’s seen before.

The Jedi Temple on Coruscant, he concludes belatedly, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to reminisce further because the eight figures are no longer speaking in muted volume.

“What do you mean you no longer wish to use the Ossus holocron to help children across the galaxy?” a voice finally yells over the commotion.

The murmurs cease, a calm, leveled voice responding over them, “We no longer see the task befit with our alignments. It allows for the Force-sensitive individuals to choose whether they will join our cause or not. This is but an illusion when we seek to restore a stronger, prominent order.”

The tallest figure among the group steps back, and Doyoung recognizes the person as the one who committed the outburst. “That’s… not right. That’s not right at all. You’re speaking of a doctrine that forces anyone that’s Force-sensitive to exist under your command. Is that… is that what you all wish after everything we’ve learned thus far?”

“Master,” the same level-headed figure steps forward, their size difference evident. “We cannot restore a powerful Order that will bring about long-lasting peace without establishing discipline and emphasizing power. We must recruit the perfect soldiers for –”

“Soldiers? Are you even listening to what you’re saying now?” the tallest one screams with enough power that the bricks of the Jedi Temple tremble in place.

“Yes,” the other hooded person confirms, “we are well aware and in consensus. We will use the Ossus holocron to find all the Force-sensitive individuals in the galaxy and train them to be the strongest soldiers in history, establishing much-needed order.”

“That is not the Jedi way!” yells the tallest person, engaging their blue lightsaber. “I cannot allow for such a travesty to occur!”

The other figures engage theirs in return, blue, green, and purple in color. “Then, you will die.”

Doyoung watches the remaining eight figures lunge at the tallest person who quickly adopts a defensive stance. The fighting technique is so familiar, it rattles Doyoung to his core that he cannot pinpoint it. He watches the tallest figure fend the others off until the burden becomes too much, succumbing to exhaustion. The figure with the purple lightsaber impales them first, right below the chest, the tallest figure gasping in agony.

They stumble, their lightsaber disengaging and tumbling onto the dirt floor with a hollow thud. For good measure, another two figures lodge their lightsabers into their body, leaving no room for the tallest figure’s survival.

Slumping forward in defeat and exhaustion, the tallest figure falls to their knees, head lolling to one side from sheer will alone. The three figures responsible for the injuries step back, allowing for the figure who’d been speaking earlier to step forward. Their height difference from earlier is no more, the hooded figure towering over the half-dead person.

“Thank you, Master. We will never forget your contributions to the New World,” the hooded figure laments and their tone is deceptive this time, dropping its calm pretenses from earlier. In a split second, they impale the kneeled figure through the heart, twisting their blue lightsaber for good measure.

Horrified, Doyoung’s witnessing a murder, a crucifixion. How can Jedi be so cruel to their own kind?

The murderous hooded figure releases their grip on their lightsaber, wiping their hands against the fabric of their brown robe. The way in which they carry out the action leads Doyoung to believe they’re desperately trying to absolve themselves from the crime they’ve just committed.

“Brothers, I thank you for taking this step forward with me. Our Master’s death will not be in vain. We will persevere to make his original dream a reality, despite him losing his own vision.” With a flick of their wrist, they disengage the four lightsabers pinned into the dead person and use the Force to return the sabers to their owners. “Our first step will be to eliminate all the Jedi on Ossus. Ensure that the Darksaber blueprints are within our hands before burning everything to the ground.”

Doyoung gasps when the figure turns to face him, dropping their robe’s hood, and Doyoung’s met with an angelic face that should not belong to a killer. He’s a man with unblemished skin and soft features that provide comfort and, had not Doyoung witnessed him murder a Jedi Master in cold blood, he’d believe the man’s innocence.

He smiles in Doyoung’s direction, brown eyes melting into golden lava just as he says, “Now. Find me Kim Dongyoung and bring him back to me. Alive.”

On one of the days in the weeks leading up to the First Order’s deployment of Starkiller Base and its grandiose display of power through the eradication of the Hosnian system, Jaehyun’s grandmother visits him at the academy. She sits in on his joint target practice with Johnny, watching Jaehyun struggle to hit moving targets. BD-1, the small droid he’d constructed a few years prior to help her when she’s alone and whom Jaehyun affectionately refers to as Bee Dee, rests perched on his grandmother’s lap.

“You move well,” his grandmother commends. “John, your aim is good. Try working on your reflexes.”

“Of course, Ms. Jung!” Johnny salutes, standing up straighter. His grandma’s eyes shift over to him, lips pursing in thought.

“Jaehyunnie,” his grandmother begins, gently tapping Bee Dee’s head with the palm of her hand, “you’re having problems predicting where your target will be.” The way in which she points out Jaehyun’s shortcomings before Jaehyun can even identify them makes him blink, processing the words.

“Your speed and strength are good, but the aim and precision are just not there. Maybe you and John can give each other pointers on how it is you attack.”

“I don’t want to kill people,” Jaehyun confesses sharply, loud enough to have the words ring in his mind.

“You’re afraid that if your aim is good, you’ll kill the person you’re shooting?” Johnny asks, placing his fingers on his chin and tilting his head. Jaehyun nods.

“Doesn’t that mean that you should work even harder on perfecting your aim so that you’re able to hit your target with just right to injure them?” his grandmother probes, copying Johnny’s stance. “Besides, there are non-lethal weapons you can use in combat. They are good options if you’re going down the path of not killing others.” She explains everything so calmly, Jaehyun must remind himself that she herself follows the self-imposed rule of not ending lives haphazardly.

“I guess… I never thought of it that way,” Jaehyun admits.

Beside him, Johnny places his hands on his hips and leans back into his haunches. “Welp! I’m just gonna have to train you until you’re the best sharpshooter the academy’s got to offer! After me, of course.”

Johnny turns to him, Jaehyun mirroring his lopsided grin before slowly nodding in agreement, attention flitting back to his grandma. She’s beaming at them, eyes scrunched closed by the intensity of her toothy grin. “That’s the spirit! I’m so happy you two have each other!”

At dinner later that day, he’d been seated between Johnny and Jaehyun’s grandmother, animatedly chatting about the student who had fallen into the grand foyer’s fountain attempting to run after another student and the flavorless canteen food they served for every meal. Johnny had at one point turned to his parents to give them updates on his life while Jaehyun’s grandmother leaned into Jaehyun’s side. Despite how young Jaehyun was at the time, he’s taller and fuller than most kids his age, so it’s no surprise he and his grandmother are similar in size.

“You’ve been at the academy for a while now. How are you liking it?” she asks above a whisper into his ear, her warm breath tickling against the skin. He stifles a giggle.

“I like it a lot,” he claims, putting down his fork while turning to face her. He hesitates for a moment and his grandmother notices, urging him with a raise of her eyebrow. “But…” Jaehyun begins only to trail off a beat later. “Even with Johnny, I miss home. I miss you and mom and dad and Bee Dee.” The droid beeps sadly from its place near the leg of his grandmother’s chair.

He looks away, frightful of her response. His eyes widen comically when she merely pats his head, ruffling the top strands of his hair. “You are such a kind child. You have the biggest heart there is. Love will follow you everywhere you go, especially the love your parents and I carry for you.”

Jaehyun turns his head to study her carefully, the wrinkles on her face growing more prominent. He swallows the lump that forms in his throat. She must sense his apprehension and sudden vulnerability because she retracts her hand, carefully clutching the ivory-colored charm she typically wore around her neck. Her other hand moves to unclasp the necklace from behind her neck.

Blinking to focus on its details, his grandmother dangles the necklace in between them. “This is a japor snippet. Your grandfather gave it to me before we got married when he had to go away for a long time. Japor is an ivory material from the planet Tatooine in the Outer Rim, and he carved it while on a mission there, thinking of me,” she explains, but Jaehyun already knows where Tatooine is. “He told me that he loved me and that as long as I had it with me, his love and energy would follow me everywhere.” She sighs, and it sounds a bit watery to Jaehyun’s ears even back then.

“Take it with you so that you remember how much I love you and send you my strength,” she explains, smile spreading wider while watching Jaehyun’s stubby fingers take the charm into his hands. Jaehyun remembers closing his eyes and hoping he can feel as loved as he does that moment, for the rest of his life. Then, fleetingly, hoping he can someday find someone he could provide comfort to with the use of the japor snippet.

At present, Jaehyun opens his eyes and presses into the sweaty skin where his neck meets his collarbone, the exact space where the japor snippet would be. His tongue pokes past his lips, swiping against them for rehydration. Jaehyun blinks, taking in Johnny’s looming form at the corner of his workshop. The WayV Mandalorians and Rogue127 crew had left minutes ago, Taeil delegating and outlining tasks for both parties before they were to begin reparations.

“Are you okay?” Johnny probes worriedly, taking two gargantuan steps to close the distance between them.

“Honestly?” Jaehyun sighs, carding his fingers through his slightly wet hair from the shower he’d taken a couple of hours prior. “No,” he croaks, and it sounds so raw against his ears. It’s an admission he hadn’t expected to make, hoping to remain focused on finding Doyoung and Haechan rather than wallow in grief.

Johnny tosses him a pitying look, but when Jaehyun blinks again, the sentiment is gone, replaced by his best friend Johnny’s need to support Jaehyun. “This is your space,” Johnny assures, looking around at the half-built droids and trinkets adorning the walls, melding supplies strewn across various worktables. “You can let out all your feelings here, without judgement.”

So, Jaehyun does. “What if he’s dead?” Jaehyun whispers, stuttering breath increasingly difficult to carry out. Who Jaehyun’s referring to hangs unspoken. “You were there – when the Grand Inquisitor and the other three were receiving the transmission. One of them clearly said they captured one of them. What happened to the other one? Who is the other one? Where is the other one?” The questions fly out of his mouth quicker than he can comprehend them, slowly backing up until his lower back hits the edge of a piece of furniture.

Johnny purses his lips, debating on what words to help reassure Jaehyun and in the end says, “The Jedi are awake and interrogating the Inquisitor. He was left behind by their group, so I have faith he’ll be telling the truth.”

Snarling at the words, Jaehyun slams his fisted hand into the furniture beside him – a metal bookcase full of fueling rods he hardly touches. “To hell with the Inquisitors! Why in the galaxy would any of us believe the sh*t they spew?” Jaehyun all but spits out, opening his fist as the bottom throbs. It’s not his intention to be rude to Johnny, and he’s certain the other commander knows as much; Johnny’s face is expressionless as he raises his hands to his chest and gently lowers them in gesture of peace between them.

“Easy,” Johnny suggests. “You can let out all the anger you want, but don’t hurt yourself in the process.” Patiently, Johnny presumably watches Jaehyun screw his eyes shut, willing the anger to subside. The grating emergency alarm still ringing in the background does little to ease his mind.

“And now, this,” Jaehyun chokes out, gesturing vaguely with both hands. “The possibility that Master Byun has been operating in the shadows. Is he really part of Exoluxion?” Jaehyun thinks about the person or persons manipulating New Commonwealth archives. “What about Taeyong and Mark? Are they in on this grandiose scheme, too?” His voice is quivering even though it booms, and he desperately hopes no one is in the hallway’s listening in on their conversation.

“We don’t know if Master Byun is their collaborator yet. Yixing only said he know that Master Byun knew the Exoluxion Inquisitors until they defected.”

“There’s so much we don’t know,” Jaehyun relents, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “I wish Doyoung were here right now. He’s so smart and knows about these things. He’d know what to do.”

Unexpectedly, Johnny wraps his muscular arms around Jaehyun, pulling Jaehyun into a hug and propping his chin on Jaehyun’s head. Jaehyun’s hands rest on Johnny’s chest, relishing in the comfort of his best friend’s arms. “You haven’t hugged me since your wedding,” Jaehyun muffles his words into the vice captain’s jacket. “Not even after I saved your life after Mandalore.”

“Astute observation,” Johnny announces, swaying them back and forth in the way he used to when Jaehyun would overthink and hurl into a foul mood. “It’s not my fault you’re Mr. Grump Face and hate hugging.”

Jaehyun chuckles, a hideous sound, but he feels Johnny’s jaw relax at it, arms slacking in their grip. A thought reaches the forefront of his mind. “Doyoung’s hugs are my favorite hugs,” he confesses and an instant later, he feels a warm liquid dripping onto the skin of his hands. The liquid falls onto Johnny’s jacket too, turning the brown material into a darker color.

“You are so in love,” Johnny points out and sighs, as if he’s pointing out the galaxy is vast.

“I am,” Jaehyun accepts and allows himself to silently weep. He feels frustrated, angry, but above all else, he misses Doyoung. His Doyoung. And Haechan by extension. It’s up to them to figure it out, though. Doyoung and Haechan are counting on them.

The moment is cut brief when their commlinks go off, simultaneous static harshly cutting through the air. Their limbs disentangle, the backs of Jaehyun’s hands coming to pat away the remaining tears streaking his cheeks. “Commanders Suh and Jung,” Taeyong speaks into the line, voice frazzled. He speaks quickly and urgently, “Come to the bridge. Mark and I have pieced together a timeline. Doyoung –” his voice cracks with emotion, the first time Jaehyun hears it, and he thinks this Taeyong resembles the one Doyoung’s told him about. “Doyoung’s still on Mustafar!”

The hem of Jaehyun’s pants gets caught on his boot’s zipper, the man frowning as he tries to dislodge the clasp from its stuck position. He bunches the hem’s material to push again, and this time, the zipper slides closed. Engines rev up noisily nearby, their carefully assembled group standing around in a circle off to the side at their departure hangar.

Jaehyun stands up straight from his crouched position, everyone’s eyes on Taeyong.

“The plan is to scour the areas near Kim Doyoung’s last known location,” he calmly explains, holding a holoprojector that displays the location into the circle. It’s the fortress to which Doyoung and Haechan had trekked up to, never returning. “We’ll also create a parameter of one thousand square kilometers and intensely look for him here.” He looks around, eyes flitting between each of their makeshift volunteers.

Their group is comprised of the Jedi, the commanders being Johnny, Yuta, and himself, as well as the Chenle and Renjun with a few other Rogue127 faces Jaehyun recognizes but cannot name. WayV Mandalorians Ten, Xiaojun, Yangyang and Yixing with his apprentice Jisung have also joined their expedition.

“We’ve got enough ships to split up into pairs,” Taeyong explains, “so here’s how we’re splitting off.” He reads off the pairings from the top of his head, glancing at the individuals he names until there’s no names left. Jaehyun had been expecting to be paired off with one of the Rogue127 crew members, but when his name isn’t called, his eyebrows furrow.

“Commander Jung,” Taeyong addresses him directly, large eyes staring attentively. Jaehyun swallows. “You’re with me.”

Which is how he finds himself on Taeyong’s ship, Ruby, with an awkward silence dangling between them. Jaehyun can’t be too upset with their predicament, noting that they have yet to work with another so there are layers of ice to break.

“You’re a good pilot,” Taeyong notes returning to the co*ckpit, Jaehyun the de facto pilot of the ship while Taeyong handles landing preparations. “She’s a difficult spaceship to figure out.”

Jaehyun hums, focusing on breaking the atmosphere. Without looking away from his mapping systems, Jaehyun comments, “I’m an engineer. It would be a pity for me to not know how to bring out the potential of the best machinery.” He pulls up the coordinates on the co*ckpit panels, watching the skyline turn dark in the absence of light. The only light on Mustafar radiates from its volcanic oceans, the deep red creating a faint halo across the atmosphere.

With expert ease, Jaehyun navigates them to an area Taeyong had pinpointed for them. “You can set her down over there,” Taeyong evenly aims, jutting his index finger in the direction of a cavernous opening. The notch leads to some type of cavern at the bottom of the mountain where the fortress Doyoung and Haechan had disappeared stands perched upon.

Despite the rocky terrain, Jaehyun lands Ruby gently and disengages the navigation system, turning to Taeyong. When their hesitant eyes meet, Taeyong grins at him. “Great job.” It occurs to Jaehyun that Taeyong could have handled the landing himself but had allowed for Jaehyun to finish the flight. Jaehyun gulps the strange sensation down, following after Taeyong when the man exists the co*ckpit.

Their gear is altered this time, putting to use the crew’s attempt at better equipment to grapple with the excruciating heat and lack of oxygen. Jaehyun slots a helmet onto his head, Taeyong forgoing the protective gear citing that it’s unnecessary for him. Jaehyun does not question him, merely reaching for additional supplies needed in their expedition.

The new gear significantly transforms their expedition capabilities, most notably by facilitating movement. Jaehyun can collect data on his datapad and sample materials on the surface, studying his readings for any traces of lifeforms within the past rotation.

“Is there a specific reason why you chose me to accompany you?” Jaehyun pauses, recognizing how accusatory his tone might come through as. “I mean. I just assumed you’d choose to be with Mark since he is your Padawan.”

“Mark is Force sensitive, so it makes sense for me to want him to aide in another area. It feels like a waste if we have two Force sensitive individuals in the same unit,” Taeyong illuminates coolly, his boots scraping the ground below. Jaehyun shadows Taeyong, only a few paces behind, humming in agreement.

“Although,” Taeyong starts but trails off a couple of meters later, “that’s not the only reason I brought you along.”

Ah, Jaehyun thinks, there it is.

“Is that so?” Jaehyun utters the words as a placeholder, prompting Taeyong to continue. The Jedi doesn’t look back over at him.

“Beyond Haechan, you’re the closest person to Doyoung.” Taeyong expresses the statement not as an observation, but more so as fact. “I’ve been trying to perfect a technique, and I think it will be useful in looking for Doyoung.”

Jaehyun scowls, a bit affronted. “Is it the appropriate time to be testing your Jedi powers?” When your best friend is missing? Jaehyun wishes to tack on but doesn’t.

Taeyong pays him no mind, continuing their trek further into the cave. “I chose this cave because the Dark Side of the Force is strong in this area.”

Jaehyun’s heard about this philosophy from Doyoung – the two sides of the Force. He doesn’t really grasp it as he isn’t a Jedi, but Jaehyun is aware both sides are drawn to one another. “The Dark and the Light – what’s really the difference between them?” Jaehyun questions because he’s removed from any Force lore or anything beyond what Doyoung’s divulged in their conversations. “Why is it so important for you to do the bidding on either side?”

Altering his pace, Taeyong appears to take in Jaehyun’s question. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I can see why Doyoung is fond of you; you’re just as inquisitive and rebellious as he is,” Taeyong remarks and Jaehyun would normally be offended because Taeyong doesn’t know him, but the man’s tone is fond rather than condescending. In any case, Jaehyun’s inner fight deflates at the mention of Doyoung.

“You also wear your heart on your sleeve like he does,” Taeyong comments over his shoulder for the first time since they’ve stepped foot off his ship. The corner of the man’s eyes wrinkle, his head rotating away a moment later. “Regarding your question, though – the answer is balance. Both sides exist to bring balance. It’s why we cycle endlessly through wars where one side proves victorious and then a few decades later, the other becomes more prominent.”

Jaehyun scowls, nearly tripping on a dislocated, charred rock. “That’s redundant,” he observes, voice muffled by his helmet. “You’re telling me the Force deliberately allows for billions of lives to be at risk so it can reach this equilibrium?”

Taeyong shrugs, his back to Jaehyun. “The Force moves in mysterious ways. We all merely exist to carry out its bidding. There’s not much we’re capable of doing outside its grand scheme.”

Rolling his eyes at the esoteric nature of the Jedi’s speech, Jaehyun looks down at his radar. An opening to the tunnel they’re traversing is coming up ahead, but the readings show it leads to a grotto nearby. Negative memories and feelings overtake Jaehyun, an unsettling sensation sinking to the pit of his stomach

A flurry of memories rush his vision. He remembers watching the broadcast of the Hosnian system obliterated by the Starkiller Base, remembers finding out from Irene that both his parents and grandmother had been on Hosnian Prime that fateful day.

(Often, he ponders if they stood outside their balcony back home, gazing at the giant beam of orange light growing ever closer until it incinerated them completely.)

Jaehyun thinks of Inquisitor Park hurling Doyoung’s body against the wall of his Star Destroyer, repeatedly shoving him against the metal until it bent under the Force of Doyoung’s weight. Jaehyun recalls his heart beating rapidly until it felt like it was at his lodged in his throat, concerned for Doyoung’s life despite having an injury of his own. He vaguely ponders if Doyoung had suffered a similar fate recently on this very planet.

He recollects Haechan carrying an unconscious Doyoung back into the meeting room of the Opera House, shoulder bleeding profusely from a blaster wound. The mentally projected scene allows for glimpses of Johnny bleeding out on Mandalore to cross the forefront of his vision, concern and dread overtaking him.

They fuse together: anxiety, fear, resentment, and a need for vengeance. They’re the emotions that course through his blood, pumped by his veins into every cell of his body.

“The cave, it’s calling out to you.” Taeyong’s grounding voice allows for him to catch his breath, faltering.

Jaehyun blinks his thick eyelids, swallowing the bile brimming within his throat. The memories slip away too, his attention returning to the lava trail leading further into the cave. When he looks up, Taeyong is observing him sympathetically. “The Dark Side, it’s calling to you. Whatever you’re thinking about, I can say with one hundred percent certainty it’s being amplified tenfold, like a mass of negativity.”

“How did you…?” Jaehyun trails off, gulping. Even with the helmet’s protection, he feels the beads of sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

“I can feel what you’re feeling through the Force. The thought of keeping you safe is what’s anchoring me,” Taeyong states in lieu of waiting for Jaehyun to push out the words stuck to the roof of his mouth. “We should keep moving but think about everything that makes you happy. These thoughts will anchor you and repel the Dark Side.”

Jaehyun nods, following Taeyong further down the unmarked path. With every step, Jaehyun’s shoulders feel lighter.

His mind wanders to meeting Doyoung for the first time, the most stunning person he’s encountered in the galaxy with the most dazzling eyes, ironically pointing a blaster at his head. He ruminates fussing over Doyoung’s unconscious, floating body inside the bacta tube back at the Medical Bay, patiently waiting for the man who’d mysteriously risked his life for them to awaken. He contemplates the memory of touching Doyoung’s marred skin for the first time and having the privilege of helping the other man into his new prosthetic, recognizing the way Doyoung easily trusts him.

He thinks of Doyoung’s affixing presence on Mandalore, preventing him from shutting down completely, Jaehyun’s renewed pragmatism allowing the JCC to be repaired in record time, in turn allowing Johnny to acquire medical care. He thinks of Johnny, Joy, Yeri, and everyone else on the Rogue127 who motivate him to carry out their work of aiding the galaxy.

With a quivering exhale, Jaehyun controls his emotions.

“That’s it,” Taeyong compliments, “keep thinking about those things. We’re almost at an opening. I’m sensing a disturbance in the Force there, on either side.”

“I know you were his old friend,” Jaehyun blurts out, the sound of boiling lava bursting into an air bubble nearby, drowning out the last word.

“I see he’s told you,” Taeyong points out, climbing over a heap of sedimentary rocks. He offers his hand for Jaehyun to take, Jaehyun clasping it a moment later with a grunt to pull his weight to the same level as the Jedi. “You must be very special to him.” It’s one of the few times Taeyong responds him properly, but the smile he flashes Jaehyun makes him believe whatever Taeyong’s about to say next is genuine. His large, dark eyes, however, are impossibly sad. “I’m glad that you’ve been able to help ease his burdens.”

When I have not, Taeyong’s thought hangs forlornly between them.

Feeling overtaken by boldness, Jaehyun articulates, “I don’t think you should allow for his amnesia to deprive you of Doyoung.” He curses, realizing that perhaps it’s not his place. “I care about him a lot. Although I think some of your decisions have been cruel, I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jaehyun barrels on. “He’s not the same person you knew before, but he’s definitely someone worth getting to know.” Before he gets to elaborate on what he wants to say, Jaehyun stops dead in his tracks. He hears the faint sound that resembles buzzing, but it’s not quite the noise Jaehyun’s tucked away into the recesses of his memory.

Taeyong’s frozen in place, too, seemingly stunted by the same noise. Jaehyun attempts to turn his head in the man’s direction, but his body is uncooperative. As if reading his mind, Taeyong reaches out and places a comforting hand on his left shoulder.

“Don’t freak out,” Taeyong whispers as a wave of gentle bliss wracks Jaehyun’s body, “but I’m going to use you as an amplifying force. Is that okay?” No, Jaehyun wants to answer because he doesn’t know what the f*ck Taeyong means. Still, Jaehyun has a brain and knows he can’t refuse if they’re to have a chance at finding Doyoung.

“Do it!” Jaehyun pleads before Taeyong’s hands are on his back, palms pressed flat against the material of his special suit. The relief is instant, the wisps of darkness from moments ago fizzling out until nothing but tranquility remains. The memories of his shared experiences with Doyoung return, reeling past his senses until he constructs a beautiful moving picture of their love. Jaehyun vaguely wonders if he can see Doyoung through his eyes and grows embarrassed at allowing for someone to so intimately understand his love for the other man.

“Don’t,” Taeyong murmurs behind him, “be shy about loving him. I…” Taeyong trails off, Jaehyun awkwardly fiddling with his equipment to occupy his mind. “It makes me incredibly happy to know someone loves Doyoung this much. I’m using your shared memories to sense him out. I fear our connection has waned over the years, but if I use the Force alongside your emotions for him, it might be easier to find him.”

“Do you need me to do anything in particular?” Jaehyun inquires in an attempt to be helpful.

Taeyong hums at the precise moment warmth floods Jaehyun’s chest. The coldness of his Doyoung-sized wound is suddenly filled, then unexpectedly stitched back to normalcy. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what, Jaehyun?”

The faint buzzing ramps up in volume, Jaehyun shocked at its unexpectedness. The humming pulses louder, the sound of two objects smashing harshly into one another. When the clarity overtakes him, Jaehyun whispers, “The lightsabers.”

Taeyong must suddenly hear them, too, because he’s instantaneously removing his hands from Jaehyun’s back. “Call the Mandalorians. He’s down there,” Taeyong assures before breaking off into a gasp. “Jaehyun, he’s down there!”

Jaehyun does not reply, too focused on the distant lightsaber sounds. He can’t even move a finger to call the WayV Mandalorians. “Do you hear them?”

“I do,” Taeyong reassures, reflecting Jaehyun’s awe. “He’s definitely down there. But he’s also somewhere else. He’s struggling. We need to recover his body before this planet hurts him. Please, Jaehyun, call the Mandalorians.”

His senses are overwhelming all coherent thought, but he finally wills his hands to move and opens a line via his commlink. “Attention Rogue127 Recovery Team. This is Commander Jung. We’ve found the target. All available units make your way to our coordinates and assist with retrieval. I repeat, the target has been found!”

Curling his fingers into his forearms, Doyoung watches the valley below from the top of mountain, Resistance troops slowly retreating into the ships they’d brought onto Ryloth’s surface. It feels strange to be able to sense touch beneath the fingertips knowing that a few years from this memory, he won’t have this hand anymore.

“I don’t know this battle,” Changmin’s voice yanks him out of his reverie. He comes to a stand beside Doyoung who’s grown much taller, only a few inches separating them now. Doyoung doesn’t look away from the troops moving below.

“You didn’t join me for this one,” Doyoung explains, watching clouds of smoke rising into the humid planet’s atmosphere. “This was my first assignment after my Jedi Knight trials. You insisted on allowing me to handle this conflict alone.” He’d been tasked with the liberation of an entire planet, the Resistance’s forces stretched thin elsewhere.

“Looks intense,” the Master beside him comments offhandedly.

“It was.” The wind picks up, tossing around Doyoung’s outgrown bangs.

“You did well,” Changmin commends, his voice holding traces of a condescending tone. “You’re a warrior now, as I trained you to be.”

Doyoung can’t help the quiet scoff he elicits, watching entire villages burning in the background. “Is that really all?”

“Doyoung. Within you will be everything I am. All the knowledge I possess. Just as I inherited knowledge from my Master and her from hers. You’re part of a legacy.” The words are punctuated to sell the belief to Doyoung, but they do the opposite.

Growing agitated, Doyoung jeers bitterly, viciously shaking his head. He takes a step forward, watching the fires burn hotter. Doyoung allowed this; he was too weak to prevent the suffering of these people. Doyoung doesn’t need to know how many of them died today, all because of his inability to lead. “But my part of that legacy is one of death and war. They call my lifetime the times of peace, but how peaceful is any of this?” Doyoung considers Exoluxion who’s one step closer to subjugating all Force sensitive individuals in the galaxy. He retains pieces of the Great Purge of Mandalore in the depths of his consciousness.

“But you’re more than that,” Changmin placates matter-of-factly, “because I’m more than that.”

“You are more, Master. But you were also more powerful and dangerous than anyone else realized.” Changmin’s expressions shutters into something unreadable, and Doyoung knows he’s struck a chord. “I remember it all now. You were the one who founded Exoluxion in the shadows. You’re the one who wanted to prop up a New Jedi Order that fit your ideals without caring what it would take. Your only mistake was confiding that dream with students who didn’t want you in the picture.” Images of the Inquisitors Doyoung’s fought in the past flash through his mind, but these people are different in the stilled pictures. In his memories, the Inquisitors are regular Jedi learning and living alongside Doyoung. They have faces that aren’t a ghastly color and interact with other Jedi on Ossus with the same enthusiasm the other students return.

They were the seven hooded figures in his last vision, his Master being the shadow crucified at the temple.

Changmin must recognize the realization on Doyoung’s face because his lips form a tight line. “Is that what this is about?” Changmin sneers. Then, he nods twice in quick succession, looking past the Ryloth skyline.

“If I am everything you are…” Then am I capable of that too? Doyoung’s mind wanders, intercepted by Changmin’s sudden rage.

“You’ve learned nothing,” the Master declares, stomping past Doyoung and only stops when he’s put meters of distance between them.

“You can’t say that!” Doyoung chokes out.

“I gave you a choice,” Changmin laments in warning, back facing Doyoung. He sounds exasperated, his shoulders tired shown by the way he squares them. “Live!” Changmin shouts into the canyon below. The sound of a lightsaber engaging startles Doyoung upright, his eyes wildly recognizing the red color of the saber. Slowly, Changmin turns to Doyoung and his face looks different. His eyes are redder than blood, redder than the lava on Mustafar.

“Or die.” The last word of the ultimatum is delivered peacefully and with a voice that sends chills down Doyoung’s spine.

Yet, Doyoung shakes his head. “No.”

“Incorrect,” Changmin clicks his tongue before launching his assault, Doyoung parrying with his green lightsaber. His following movements are defensive, attempting to fend off any of Changmin’s attacks that land too close to his body. The Master twists his lightsaber behind him, slashing against Doyoung’s unguarded left a second later. Instinctively, Doyoung blocks the attack with his lightsaber, but it places him in the perfect position for his Master to grab his hand and curl Doyoung’s arm into his bidding.

Doyoung thrashes, grunting at the pressure exerted onto his arm. His brain processes the freedom of his other arm, colliding his fist with the other man’s nose, allowing a pause for Doyoung to step back. The fog from the other battles returns, enveloping the previous backdrop in a thick cloud. Registering the environment distracts him for a millisecond, but even that’s enough time for Changmin to kick Doyoung square in the chest and launch him into the air several meters away.

Doyoung remembers screaming, but the sounds he makes get cut off once his body collides with the luminescent material of the floor from earlier. The color changes underneath his weight, from translucent to the color of wave foam. He lays on the floor, clutching his battered ribs while a dark figure breaks through the fog of this vision. The brilliant red molded like a sword divulges the mystery person’s identity.

“You lack conviction,” his Master accuses in a monotone voice that stalks ever closer, containing enough rage to make Doyoung wince.

When Doyoung engages his lightsaber again, it’s the brilliant white color he’s been fighting with since he’d joined the Resistance. Changmin’s attacks are both aggressive and relentless, unwilling to allow Doyoung to get off the floor. A particularly forceful attack from the Master helps Doyoung find his footing by applying pressure in return to the attack, Changmin staggering backward. Doyoung is on his feet not a moment too soon, opting for the offensive the instant Changmin regains his composure.

Something within him has awakened; it’s not the full extent of his memories, but certain combat patterns and experience pour into his brain and equip him with the creativity of moves he’s never implemented before. Their sabers meet, air crackling between them as Doyoung struggles to hold back the man who easily overpowers him in physical prowess alone.

Changmin effortlessly navigates them back with two authoritative steps, their lightsabers protesting at the exertion. The Master’s red eyes stare at Doyoung with a fury unlike anything he’s ever seen before, not even on the Inquisitors’ faces who’d constantly appeared devoid of emotions. “Time to die,” Changmin seethes through gritted teeth.

With a powerful slash, he disengages Doyoung’s lightsaber and uses the Force to push it out of Doyoung’s reach. Doyoung staggers back, landing on one knee to stare up at Changmin’s bloodlust. He predicts the swing before Changmin takes it, lurching forward to slip past Changmin’s unguarded left side to steps behind the man.

Changmin attempts to counterattack but Doyoung moves just in time to twist the Master’s arm in his own grasp, the metal of his prosthetic whirring at the force. Between them is the red plasma of Changmin’s saber, but it’s now in Doyoung’s hold. Changmin pants heavily between them, not at the exertion, but with rage.

Carefully disengaging his Master’s lightsaber, Doyoung tosses it carelessly into the endless void. Changmin steps back, two steps then three, not once breaking eye contact with Doyoung.

“The minimum you owe me is revealing how the hell you were involved with Exoluxion,” Doyoung breathes out, labored breathing making it difficult to utter words. “Start talking.”

“Are you sure he’s down here?” Xiaojun asks through their commlink line. He’s currently several hundred meters below the surface, inside the cave’s lava lake with no end in sight. “The scanners aren’t picking up any lifeforms.”

“Try using your vision instead of the scanners. The lava or planet’s magnetism may be messing up the scanners,” Taeyong offers only to receive a grunt in return.

“You try being down here and navigating a jet pack while your sweat is dripping down your face! Let’s see if your vision would be any better than mine!”

“Xiaojun,” Kun cuts through the line, sitting in on the mission from the Rogue127, effectively silencing the Mandalorian.

“Sorry,” Xiaojun apologizes and Jaehyun hears the pout. “I’ve never been good with heat. This is really testing my limits.”

Silently grunting to himself, Jaehyun checks the locations of Ten, Yixing, and Jisung. “What about the rest of you?”

“Nothing to report, Commander Jung. This cave is endless,” Yixing observes, Jisung’s voice confirming more or less the same.

“Nothing down here either,” Ten replies, “but there are chunks of rocks floating around. Is that happening in anyone else’s location?” When the chorus of no’s crackle through the line, Jaehyun zooms in on Ten’s location, noting that the area he’s scouring is right below the other side of the fortress.

“A sedimentary rock whose composition is dense enough to survive lava’s temperature? I need to get a sample of that,” he comments off-handedly, biting his lower lip as he plans their next course of action.

Abruptly, Ten’s shrilly voice cuts through the static. “I see something!” Jaehyun’s heart lurches, sinking to pit of his stomach. His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, unable to form the words needed to guide Ten’s subsequent steps.

“What do you see?” Taeyong questions, tapping in on behalf of Jaehyun. “Describe it to us!”

It’s him, the voices inside Jaehyun’s mind say, relief flooding his senses. He knows within the cavity of his heart and his floating soul that it’s him.

“A body! sh*t, it’s not moving at all –” Ten’s voice grows panicked, which in turn allows everyone else to panic. “I can’t go down there alone; I need you guys to spot me in case something goes wrong. Get over here, quick!” The possibility of finding Doyoung’s dead body had not once crossed his mind since arriving, thinking it improbable that they’d be able to find a body in a river of lava; it made more sense for them to find no body at all. If Doyoung were truly dead, it would be a twisted fate Jaehyun felt neither deserved.

“We’re on our way!” Xiaojun cuts through Jaehyun’s thoughts like a lightsaber, the excruciating minutes it takes for the Mandalorians to cross the distance between them.

“I think it’s him,” Xiaojun confirms, Jaehyun’s knees growing weak. He has to spread them apart to keep his balance.

“We’re going in,” Yixing announces, presumably knowing that there’s no time to waste. Jaehyun hates watching the numbers on his scanner dropping further into the negatives, depicting the Mandalorians’ descent into the cave. The occasional grunts transmitted by their commlinks are the only indicator that they’re unharmed and nothing’s gone amiss.

It takes several painstaking minutes for any of the Mandalorians to confirm their movement, but when they do, it’s the four words Jaehyun’s waited the most excruciating rotation of his life to hear:

“It’s Doyoung! He’s alive!”

“I didn’t mean to betray the New Jedi Order,” Changmin admits, a forlorn expression on his face. “I wanted to help build it, to restore it to the High Republic’s original glory.” From the books and knowledge Master Byun has shared with him, Doyoung knows that Changmin is referring to the High Republic – the Jedi Order in power during the most peaceful period known to the galaxy.

“Then why did you move in secrecy?” Doyoung probes, not in an accusing manner, but because he’s incapable of understanding the rationale behind his Master’s actions. “Why did you go behind the other founding Masters’ backs?”

“Because they didn’t understand!” Changmin raises his voice, dropping his gaze below to avert eye-contact with Doyoung. “They didn’t understand that we weren’t doing enough for the Force-sensitive kids out there in the galaxy! Kids like you that needed us. They didn’t want to help them, only wanting to stay in our bubble of a planet to focus on rebuilding everything we’d lost.” He lowers his head in shame. “I didn’t think the students would do that.”

Changmin’s referring to Exoluxion’s betrayal, Doyoung blinking back the image of the now- Inquisitors driving their lightsabers through Changmin. “You didn’t think,” Doyoung whispers, sneering at the pathetic man kneeled before him. “That’s exactly the problem here.”

Shaking his head, Changmin meets Doyoung’s gaze and his eyes flash golden, earning a shudder from Doyoung. “I thought they wanted to help others too, not make people into weapons they could control!”

The fight leaves Doyoung’s body, too exhausted with how he’s supposed to clean up everyone’s mess. He just wants to be okay – to live a normal life with Jaehyun and watch Haechan grow into whoever he wishes to become. He wants everyone on the Rogue127 to lead normal lives, too, whatever that entails for them. Exoluxion, for reasons beyond Doyoung’s actions, stand between everyone and that happiness.

“Okay,” Doyoung relents, breathing out, “I believe it. My understanding doesn’t absolve you from the pain you’ve caused millions, but I understand. You must have felt cornered and the people you confided in did not share your vision.”

Like this, his former Master looks pitiful – his head bowed down, hair over his eyes, arms dangling at his sides. From the way everyone spoke of him, Doyoung’s mind had conjured an almost pious image of Shim Changmin, Jedi Master. The person in front of him is not that man.

Doyoung supposes neither of them are the people others have made them out to be.

Crossing his legs, Doyoung plops down at eye level with the man who’d, up until minutes ago, attempted to murder him. Doyoung smoothens the hems of his pants, fidgeting the excess energy out of his body. “What must I do to remedy this? Is there anything I need to know to stop Exoluxion?”

Changmin is silent for a long time, Doyoung finished adjusting his pants to slowly pull his knees up to his chest. He only speaks when Doyoung boldly peers up and meets his gaze, afraid that Changmin’s going to disappear like a faint apparition.

“I do not have an answer to this,” Changmin supplies uselessly. “But during our joint endeavors, we sought for two holocrons that served as keys to a third holocron found on Ossus.”

Doyoung swallows, the images of Haechan crying out his name after opening the red-colored holocron flooding his memories. “Both of which are in their possession,” Doyoung grumbles, realizing the extent of Exoluxion’s plan. “All because of me.”

Clicking his tongue, Changmin straightens his back, catching Doyoung off guard. “I must share with you a piece of information I found during my studies that I shared with no one else at the time, the Force warning me against it.”

“What is it?” Doyoung perks up, intrigued.

“I’ve always believed that opening the Great Vault of the Jedi Temple on Ossus was not a simple task,” Changmin confesses. “There are ritualistic procedures to getting the Great Vault opened, such as opening the holocrons in a specific order and –”

“—the person to open them being perfectly balanced in the Force,” Doyoung whispers, shuddering and heart sinking when he remembers Haechan’s desperate pleas for his life.

Changmin nods. “They placed you in a predicament where the Pariah would have to choose between you and opening the holocrons despite his continuous efforts to avoid their subjugation.”

The Pariah. Doyoung’s brows furrow at the name, mouth opening to ask what the entails and whether Changmin’s referring to Haechan when sudden tremors begin to rock the World Between Worlds. It catches them off guard, Doyoung vaguely considering the space untouchable to outside influence. He startles onto his feat, turning his head in every direction. He confirms it’s the entire space that’s showing signs of deterioration and eventual collapse.

“Oh,” Changmin breathes, also on his feet, “they’re here for you.”

Eyes widening, Doyoung crosses the space between them. “Who is?”

“Your allies, current and future,” Changmin declares with a lopsided smile. He looks handsome, as young as he did in the initial memories he’d shared with Doyoung. “We were on borrowed time, Dong. I’m glad I could impose the final lessons I wanted to teach you.”

Doyoung feels his lower lip wobble with emotion toward a man he doesn’t remember, but nonetheless bleeds for. He gasps when a sudden thought emerges. “Wait!” Doyoung pleads, Changmin’s semitransparent figure already drifting away. “f*ck, wait! You alluded to knowing something Exoluxion doesn’t! Tell me what it is that they don’t know!” Doyoung’s arms darts out, extending his fingers to reach out to his Master.

With an audacity that’s both infuriating and awe-inducing, Changmin cackles in his face, half of his body blending into the seamless vastness of space. “Your future ally will tell you soon enough. Live a long life, Dong.” Changmin heartbreakingly reaches out to Doyoung in a similar manner, his biceps disintegrating into a mist of smoke as Doyoung lunges the centimeters remaining to grasp his hand.

Doyoung does not get to touch Changmin’s hand, nor does he have the envisioned goodbye he’d wished for before the ground is shattering beneath him anew, taking a hard plunge into nothingness.

Jaehyun slams a hydrochip into the hyperdrive cooling system, roughly banging the piece into place. Currently, he's working through hour seven of his nonstop shift with repairs and he’s fed up. The repairs are never ending, even with the help of the WayV Mandalorians and the other competent engineers of the Rogue127. Even so, this is one of the last remaining impediments on their path to recovering their navigational capabilities.

“The engines are responding properly to the replacements,” announces Yangyang through his commlink from the other side of the ship, analyzing his assigned hyperdrive. “The coolant is keeping temperatures at a normal range. I’ll keep them on for a bit and gauge their response.”

“That’s great news!”

Jaehyun whips around to find Johnny grinning from ear to ear, hands interlocked behind his head while walking lazily through the engine room. Taeil trails behind him with a roll of his eyes, taking twice the steps to cross the same distance as Johnny. Their commlinks buzz the closer Johnny and Taeil grow to Jaehyun, static waves meeting in unison.

“What are you both doing here?” Jaehyun probes, frowning at their sudden appearance.

“Look a little happier when seeing us,” Johnny teasingly chastises with a click of his tongue, earning him a snort from Jaehyun.

“I’m happy to see Taeil but it’s always a misfortune to see you.”

“I’m wounded!” Johnny gasps, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his heart. “Just kidding. I like Taeil more than I like you, too.”

“I would hope so,” Jaehyun cackles, exhaustion seeping into his bones. “Considering he’s the love of your life.” Jaehyun’s physically standing in the engine room, carrying on some lighthearted banter, but his mind is on Doyoung who’s in a coma for medically unknown reasons several levels above them.

It’s been two rotations since Doyoung and Haechan went missing on Mustafar and one rotation since Doyoung’s been back on the Rogue127, albeit unconscious.

“In any case, I’m here to relieve you of your duties!” Johnny jubilantly announces, stopping by the metal staircase that leads to the platform Jaehyun’s utilizing for better access to the hyperdrive.

Jaehyun scowls. “Like, right now?” When Johnny merely nods, Jaehyun continues, “I still have three hours of my shift left.”

“Not anymore,” Taeil confirms, Jaehyun noting that the shorter man’s caught up and standing beside Johnny. “Johnny will take over the remainder of your shift. I need you for another assignment.” Jaehyun’s heart sinks, wondering what level of assignment requires his immediate attention.

“Okay,” he relents, “let me just finish closing the hyperdrive back up.” Jaehyun ignores whatever response his two superiors give him, melding the metal plates until all gaps are eliminated. Once he’s completed the task, Jaehyun descends half the flight of stairs and halts his path to witness a tender exchange between Johnny and Taeil.

Johnny mutters something underneath his breath, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. In return, Taeil’s head whips back in uncontrollable laughter, his entire body quivering. The way Johnny regards Taeil punches Jaehyun in the gut, leaving him breathless. In an overkill manner, Johnny twists down and presses a delicate kiss to the back of Taeil’s injured hand, the intimate gesture lingering longer than Jaehyun expects.

“Do well, John,” Taeil encourages, the small smile he returns to Johnny indicative of the precious love they hold for one another.

“When do I not deliver, my beloved husband?” he questions but gets no answer from either Taeil or Jaehyun.

“Did I interrupt something? Why’s he so happy?” Jaehyun grumbles as he and Taeil walk back to the engine room’s entrance, matching each other’s step. Johnny, being the endearing man that he is, waves at their retreating figures until they’re navigating the ship’s corridors. “He looks like he got married all over again.” Jaehyun peers over in the other man’s direction, observing the tip of Taeil’s ears grow reddened. “Uh, actually. I don’t want to know.”

Jaehyun expects Taeil to wander over back to the bridge, but instead the shorter man guides them to the personal barracks sector. He looks more relaxed now that the ship’s problems are resolved, for the most part at least. Jaehyun’s likewise familiar with the way Taeil compartmentalizes his duties, and although he may seem collected despite enduring the disaster of two rotations ago, he knows Taeil is suffering at the loss of life among his crew as well as Doyoung and Haechan’s disappearances.

“How have you been holding up?” asks Taeil, broken arm dangling from his cast while the other is lodged within the side pocket of his captain jacket.

Jaehyun merely grunts, shrugging his shoulders. “Honestly? Pretty bad until recently. I’m glad we’ve recovered Doyoung’s living body but…” I’m upset this all happened in the first place. I’m upset Doyoung isn’t awake and I’m upset Haechan is Exoluxion’s captive.

Taeil hums audibly beside him, pace unwavering. “Is everything good between you two? I haven’t had the time to pull you aside and ask. I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend and checked in on you. Since the beginning, it looked like there was potential attraction between you both and I had hoped you’d come to me with your feelings eventually.”

Shaking his head gently, Jaehyun sighs. A group of Rogue127 crew members jog down the corridor, Taeil stepping ahead of Jaehyun in a single-file line to give them more room. The crew recognize them and salute them out of respect, Taeil and Jaehyun returning the gesture.

“I don’t blame you,” Jaehyun offers an eternity later after they’re alone once more. “It’s been a rough orbit for the Rogue127. I’ve been meaning to share my happiness with you, but times have escaped me, too. And somehow everything escalated too quickly.” Jaehyun shakes his head once more, willing himself to dispel the negative thoughts.

“But I love him, Taeil. I never expected to admire and love someone the way I love Doyoung.” Jaehyun had grown guarded after the death of his family, trusting in only the select few who’d been by his side since before then. He thinks of Chaeyeon, his neighbor and friend their entire childhood until they’d drifted apart during their academy days with his treasured friend attending another institute on Coruscant. They’d reconnected after graduation, Jaehyun learning that she’d relocated to Coruscant permanently after their homes on Hosnian Prime had been obliterated. She’s lucky her family was spared as they’d been away on business, although he sometimes envies her.

There’s Joy and Yeri who always included him in activities during his visits to Naboo before and after the Hosnian Calamity until one day, they’re legally siblings. Joy and Yeri are the strongest women Jaehyun knows, fighting status quo views against women across the galaxy with their astute knowledge of galactic politics. When they’re ready, he hopes to hand down his senatorship to them, knowing that no other individuals would prove capable enough to make decisions based on their intellect and empathy.

Hell, he even thinks of Naeun and the way she’s been dealt the short end of the stick, shoved into a family with deep patriarchal views that consider her as nothing more than a trophy. Jaehyun knows she’s a profoundly caring individual, perhaps far too compassionate for her own good. He hopes that one day she’ll break free from the shackles of her responsibilities to find someone who can love her the way she deserves.

Naturally, Johnny’s at the forefront of his friendship thoughts; he’s Jaehyun’s lifelong friend and soulmate who brings out the best in Jaehyun. Johnny had fallen in love with Taeil at the Resistance academy, Jaehyun a bystander to their bumbling yet shy courtship. They spent two orbits denying their feelings, Johnny nearly losing his opportunity altogether after he’d convinced himself (like a fool) that Taeil could not return his feelings. It’d taken tremendous haggling labors from Jaehyun, Yuta, and Jungwoo to convince him otherwise, but their efforts had paid off when after Johnny’s confession, Taeil had propositioned Johnny to be his fiancé.

“There’s no one in the galaxy that knows me better than you,” Taeil had said back then, Jaehyun silently crying while Yuta grinned from ear to ear and Jungwoo wailed by the door of the empty bridge. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Of that, I am certain.”

Into their fourth orbit of marriage, Johnny and Taeil continue to arduously care for each other. Jaehyun’s noted that their dangerous occupations don’t dissuade them from being together. “Taeil. Would it be okay to ask you a question?”

This corridor is one he’s well acquainted with, one of the higher levels reserved for the commanding staff of the Rogue 127. “Anything you want, Jaehyunnie.”

He hums, body automatically rounding the familiar corner. “How do you reconcile this… fear of losing Johnny in battle? I know Doyoung is powerful and I also know we’ve only been together for a few weeks but –”

Taeil clears his throat, effectively silencing Jaehyun’s rambling. “The fear will always follow you if you truly love Doyoung,” Taeil answers truthfully, Jaehyun’s head hanging subtly lower. “I learned long ago that I can only be responsible for the things that are in my control. One of the most powerful actions you have control over is trust.”

Jaehyun blinks, breathing in the stale, artificial air pumped through multiple levels of the Rogue127. Taeil barrels on, “Don’t deprive yourself of a happiness you can enjoy by always fearing for the worst. It’s a disservice to you and Doyoung. Stars forbid, don’t ever make decisions for him. Always talk it out. I know you’re stubborn and he is too, but you owe each other that.”

Jaehyun cackles, shoulders feeling lighter. “You sound like my dad.”

“Might as well be with how old I am,” Taeil jokes, grunting when he moves his arm too harshly. “Can’t believe Exoluxion gave me a black eye and a broken arm. I’m growing old.”

“You’re in your early thirties, you’re not old.” Jaehyun smiles timidly. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. Sometimes… I get stuck in my head. Especially right now when I don’t have Doyoung to reassure me of anything.”

Abruptly coming to a stop, Taeil flashes him a dazzling smile, eyes dancing with mischief. Jaehyun narrows his eyes, immediately suspect. Too preoccupied by Taeil’s suspicious behavior, Jaehyun fails to note they’ve stopped just outside of his room’s door where Doyoung lays unconscious on his bed. Taeil had been nice enough to install a makeshift bed for Jaehyun to not leave Doyoung’s side, and he’s thankful to other man for allowing such accommodations.

“Perfect timing for your scheduled rest then.”

Jaehyun blinks. “Rest?” he asks incredulously, mind reeling at the information. “Is this the important assignment you wanted me to take up?”

Ever the treacherous leader, Taeil merely beams. “Goodnight, Jaehyun. I’ll expect you on the bridge at oh six hundred hours. We’ll probably jump into hyperspace while you’re asleep to make up time, but I’m sure Johnny and the Mandalorians can handle any hiccups that may arise.”

Taeil doesn’t let Jaehyun get a single word in because the man’s sauntering away and disappearing past the end of the corridor. “What the hell? That was a set up!” Jaehyun grumbles to himself.

His body, on the other hand, is enthusiastic to comply with his captain’s wishes. Jaehyun pulls out his keycard and taps himself into the room, the welcomed darkness greeting him in a stark contrast to the artificial light everywhere else.

He only makes it a few steps into the room, door hissing closed, when the keycard slips past his grip and clatters noiselessly onto the floor. Jaehyun blinks and blinks five more times to make sure he’s not hallucinating. When Doyoung’s body shifts in his place on Jaehyun’s bed, Jaehyun releases a shuddering wail that sounds far too wet.

It’s a miracle he makes it to the foot of his bed, weight collapsing onto Doyoung’s legs resting over the edge. “Jaehyun,” Doyoung whispers and Jaehyun wishes he could sob. The tears don’t come.

“Doyoung, you’re awake,” says into the fabric of Doyoung’s pajama pants, “you’re awake!” Jaehyun buries his face into Doyoung’s body beneath him, body shaking in exhilaration. “I thought I lost you,” Jaehyun chokes at the words, hating himself for ever thinking that. “I did my best to find you and we’re on our way to find Haechan and I just –”

“I know,” Doyoung assures calmly from somewhere above him, patting his head gently. “I know, my love. I’ve felt your presence the entire time. I also know Haechan is well for the time being and that Exoluxion won’t harm him just yet.” He cradles Jaehyun’s head as if it’s the most treasured object in his life.

“The Force allowed me to see everything. I was in a World Between Worlds, and I understand things now that I could have never imagined before. But we’ll talk about that later,” Doyoung explains, faintly shifting his weight. “Come and sit on my lap, Jaehyunnie.”

Jaehyun’s body is pliant underneath Doyoung’s warm touch, his skin chasing the man’s ghost of a touch. “My Jaehyun,” Doyoung breathes between them, his voice raspy with traces of bashfulness, “my love.” The words aren’t enough for Doyoung, his hands running down Jaehyun’s sides, the thick material of his Resistance uniform doing very little to conceal the searing nature of Doyoung’s touch.

In his attempt to close what little distance remains, Jaehyun presses his lips hard against Doyoung’s own, the other man reflecting his insistence. His fingers twitch in the need to touch every part of Doyoung, to reassure himself that he’s here, safe, and unharmed. Discarding any inhabitations, Jaehyun acts upon his primal instincts to feel Doyoung. He outstretches his fingers against Doyoung’s back, bunching the man’s temporary nightwear. It’s already wrinkled by the hours Doyoung’s spent in his coma, lying motionless on the bed. His fingertips draw Doyoung’s body flush against his chest, Doyoung tilting his head to allow a better angle.

When Doyoung tongue slides past his lips, Jaehyun’s breath hitches into Doyoung’s mouth, skimming his hands down the expanse of Doyoung’s back.

The contended noises Doyoung’s making are enough to spur him on, Jaehyun’s palms coming to rest where Doyoung’s lower back meets the swell of his ass. Jaehyun squeezes whatever he can grab a hold of there, the man under his care groaning into their kiss.

Doyoung gasps his name when Jaehyun’s teeth nibble on Doyoung’s lower lip, interrupting their impassioned kiss. Jaehyun is careful to apply as little as pressure possible, worried that he’ll draw blood from the other man.

He pulls away when Doyoung turns impatient, licking at the seam of his mouth to allow access into Jaehyun’s mouth again. With a silent smile, Jaehyun opens his mouth wider and Doyoung is there once again, slipping tongue into his mouth. Doyoung swipes his tongue underneath Jaehyun’s, exploring the heat of each other’s mouths like it’s their first time.

The way Doyoung kisses him is languid, as if they have all the time in the world. A particularly long swipe of Doyoung’s tongue against Jaehyun’s maxillary teeth has him shivering. Sensing the sudden absence of Doyoung’s touch, Jaehyun is nearly complaining when his brain registers Doyoung’s fingers resting on his jaw.

“You continued looking for me,” Doyoung notes when they pull apart, lungs stinging. “You didn’t give up and knew where to look.”

Jaehyun swallows their mixed saliva accumulating in his mouth. “I had help,” he assures with modesty because he did. Without the Mandalorians or Taeyong’s help, they’d have pursued Exoluxion through hyperspace rather than return to Mustafar. His gut clenches at the thought, Doyoung noticing because his hold tightens imperceptibly.

“Thinking of you motivated me,” Doyoung admits silently, adjusting his hold of Jaehyun’s head in his palms. His fingers slide back and forth across Jaehyun’s cheeks. “When I was in the World Between Worlds… I had to convince myself that something was worth living.”

Jaehyun’s heart lurches. “Is that where you were?” Jaehyun asks hesitantly.

Doyoung nods faintly, resting his forehead on Jaehyun’s. His touch radiates heat that rivals the lava on Mustafar while simultaneously remaining cool like the ice on Hoth. Jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut.

“My body remained on Mustafar while my mind existed there. As the name suggests, I was stuck in a place that exists between time and space,” Doyoung breathes out. Then, far more apprehensively, Doyoung admits, “I met my Master there. Shim Changmin.”

This bit of information gets Jaehyun to open his eyes, meeting the brown of Doyoung’s own. They’re different now, but perhaps they’ve always been ever shifting. “I thought he was dead?” Jaehyun supplies uselessly. “How were you able to communicate?”

Doyoung grunts in lieu of shrugging, brushing his nose on Jaehyun’s. “The Force makes anything possible. He presented me with memories of our shared past. I’m afraid I still don’t recall the full extent of my previous life, but he showed me the most pivotal moments in an attempt to teach me a lesson.”

“It sounds like you went through a lot in the last rotation,” Jaehyun half-heartedly jokes, but the thought of Doyoung alone, in an unfamiliar and esoteric place like this so-called World Between Worlds makes his heart heave in agony. He studies the wry smile that plasters itself onto Doyoung’s face.

“Trust me,” Doyoung whispers, but rather than remain weary, the susurration sounds optimistic, “it feels like I’ve lived seven lives.”

Jaehyun’s arms are beginning to protest at their awkward position, Doyoung seemingly taking notice as he drops his hands to his side to allow them space. Jaehyun regrets the loss immediately but reluctantly rearranges his own limbs to place his hands in his lap. He knows that right now, Doyoung needs someone to listen to him.

The emergency siren has stopped going off since Yangyang patched up the first hyperdrive, sealing off the damaged sections. “Do you know why you were able to go to this place instead of…” Jaehyun trails off, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of death.

“No,” Doyoung confesses, looking down at Jaehyun’s intertwined fingers. “But I do think it’s because the Force has other plans for me. I feel that I must fulfill my duty to it and my Master before I can navigate the rest of my days freely.”

Frowning, Jaehyun opens his mouth and closes it a beat later. He repeats the action twice. “Your Master? What kind of duty?” It’s a futile question, but he knows Doyoung’s answer will involve galactic peacekeeping activities he may never be able to stomach.

“To put an end to Exoluxion,” Doyoung confidently announces. Despite his prediction of the answer, Jaehyun’s stomach drops and twists into frenzied knots.

“Why must you bear this burden alone? What of your duty to me?” Jaehyun questions, abruptly upset at Doyoung’s inability to see they’re all being used as pawns. “What of your safety, Doyoung?”

The vibrations from the Mustafar cave return unexpectedly, amplifying his senses when his mind spirals. Doyoung is there within the second, placing his hands over Jaehyun’s fidgeting ones. He hadn’t even realized he’d been twiddling his thumbs until Doyoung’s fingers massage into his skin.

“I was there last time and couldn’t stop you from going what you went through,” Jaehyun berates himself in a quiet monotone. “I’m not strong enough to protect you from them,” he punctuates, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. He hates how vulnerable he can be when it comes to Doyoung, hates that Doyoung can see right past him. His fingers clench around the fabric he’d started twisting in his grip.

Eyelids fluttering shut at the sudden fingers guiding his jaw, Jaehyun pliantly follows Doyoung’s movements until their faces are centimeters from one another. “That’s not true,” Doyoung denounces, and even with the momentary impairment of his vision, Jaehyun is certain Doyoung’s gaze is full of love. “Jaehyun. I’ll be safe. I’ll have you by my side, my love,” Doyoung reassures, voice oh so close. “Would you please look at me, Jaehyun?” Jaehyun complies easily, and he’s met with Doyoung’s radiant smile. Somehow, it looks even more enamored than before and Jaehyun’s heart sores at the evident love Doyoung holds for him.

“I’m scared,” Jaehyun admits above a whisper between them. “I’m scared that something will happen to you this time or worst of all, that you’ll always be stuck in this uncertain place where you can’t predict your safety.” I don’t want to lose you again, Jaehyun thinks because the truth of the matter is – they had lost, on all fronts.

At Doyoung’s soft snort, Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinch in annoyance. “What’s so amusing?”

Doyoung dips his head indiscernibly until the centimeters between them are gone, brushing his nose against Jaehyun’s in an obvious display of endearment. The annoyance evaporates from Jaehyun’s body, attention shifting to the way Doyoung eases him back into his plush comforter, landing with a soft oof.

“Your smile is annoying me,” Jaehyun lies, feeling the tips of his ears reddening. Above him, Doyoung’s arms bracket either side of Jaehyun’s head, hovering with some distance as Doyoung studies him intently.

“I’m thinking about how lovely you are,” Doyoung admits once Jaehyun’s stopped reeling under Doyoung’s scrutiny, however adoringly he’s making it out to be. Lovely. It’s a strange word, Jaehyun’s mind working to comprehend its depth. Doyoung takes notice, leaning further down to place a kiss on his nose. “It’s my turn to point out how much you’re overthinking.”

Breath hitching, Jaehyun watches Doyoung’s eyes flit across his face. “Well, can you blame me when I’m voicing my perfectly valid worries to you and you’re dismissing them?”

Seemingly realizing the errors of his ways, Doyoung frowns. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” His apology is earnest, Jaehyun knowing that Doyoung is incapable of insincerity, so Jaehyun merely sighs. Doyoung is moving again, however, shifting his knees into the mattress below until he’s saddled on Jaehyun’s lap like it’s his personal throne. It might as well be.

With utmost tenderness, Doyoung holds Jaehyun’s hands within his own and caresses them. He dips his head to place soft kisses across the backs of Jaehyun’s hands. “I just want to reassure you that we’re here, together, and we won’t let anything happen to one another. We’ll navigate whatever is on the horizon, together.” The featherlight touch of Doyoung’s lips as he utters the words into Jaehyun’s hands is enough for Jaehyun’s mind to short-circuit. The slight husk in Doyoung’s tone sends chills down his spine, Jaehyun’s brain processing the words belatedly.

Together. A sentiment that is all too daunting given the nature of their operations. Nothing is certain in the vast galaxy, but Jaehyun knows he has Doyoung, Johnny, Haechan, and the rest of the Rogue127 by his side, ready to tackle the obstacles that surge their way.

Together, Doyoung assures, and Jaehyun can’t help but believe him. Trust, Taeil’s voice echoes within the confines of his insecurities.

“I trust you,” Jaehyun promises, their tried way of assuring one another, tentatively licking his chapped lips. They’re missing Doyoung’s own against them. “I trusted you before, I trust you now, and I’ll trust you until my last breath.”

It’s all the affirmation Doyoung distinctly needs because one second he’s hovering and the next he’s dipping his head to lick as much of Jaehyun’s neck as he possibly can. Jaehyun groans when Doyoung swipes his tongue in languid, broad motions to give the skin beneath his jaw a hard suck. Flinching, Jaehyun digs his hands intro the comforter, concentrating his efforts into grounding himself.

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung moans his name deliciously, warm breath fanning his ear. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me and rescuing me.” The destiny they’ve cheated hangs silently between them, Jaehyun unwilling to restrain himself longer. His hands move of their own accord, resting on Doyoung’s toned thighs straining in his lap. To feel, to hear, to see Doyoung above him – Jaehyun’s reassured that he’s here, alive and grinding on Jaehyun’s dick.

“I love you,” Doyoung whispers against his jaw, tracing kisses up his face until he’s taking Jaehyun’s bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling gently.

“I love you,” Jaehyun replies when Doyoung allows him to breath, articulating the phrase like a mantra he wholeheartedly believes in. He doesn’t know how he grew capable of loving Doyoung to this extent, but he knows his love isn’t simply emotional or physical anymore. Their souls are somehow connected, Jaehyun’s ability to have sensed Doyoung out on Mustafar a clear indicator of this.

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung pants between them a lifetime later, their clothed erections growing every hotter under their grinding. Jaehyun watches his face drift away a few inches before Doyoung gives up and lingers closer. “Can I please have you?”

Why would you even think to ask? Jaehyun ponders, observing Doyoung’s face contort to one full of trepidation. Why would you ask when I’ve been yours the entire time?

“Please,” Jaehyun embarrasses himself by begging loudly, mewling when Doyoung’s cold prosthetic fingers press against his toned abdomen. “Take me, take everything you want.” Take me until I’m everything you need. His heart stutters, the magnetic sensation pulling him toward Doyoung returning with his thoughts. It vibrates between them, pleading Jaehyun to do something, to do anything, to get closer to Doyoung.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Doyoung admits, diving to claim Jaehyun’s mouth. This kiss is messier, desperation gnawing at Jaehyun’s muscles, fingers twitching up Doyoung’s body until they circle around Doyoung’s perfect waist underneath the man’s shirt. “Haven’t stopped thinking of how you’re mine. I could be left with nothing, but I’ll still have you. My thoughts of you, my memories of you.”

“You have me,” Jaehyun reassures, swallowing thickly. Above him, Doyoung makes a show of getting naked, removing his shirt in swift motions before tossing it to the floor. Jaehyun catches his own fingers twitch when the taut muscle of Doyoung’s abdomen flexes beneath his touch. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto the other man the entire time.

In lieu of words, Doyoung quietly sits back on his thighs and undresses Jaehyun with slightly trembling hands. It’s a few moments of observing the love of his life quietly until Jaehyun takes Doyoung’s hands in his, giving them a firm squeeze. “I’ll help, my love.” Jaehyun discards his own shirt, lifting his hips off the bed to slide both his pants and the elastic of his underwear. Doyoung’s hands are there, gently guiding his actions until they hang loosely just above Jaehyun’s knees.

Squirming underneath Doyoung’s gaze, Jaehyun belatedly registers that the other man has slid down the bed, hopping off to remove his own pants while dragging off Jaehyun's bottom wear the rest of the way. Jaehyun notes that, fortunately, there are no new scars on Doyoung’s body, and he breathes out with ease.

Doyoung resumes his previous position on Jaehyun’s thighs but allows for more space between their half-hard erections. “Is there anything you want from me?” Doyoung probes, leaning forward to caress Jaehyun’s abdomen. His skin feels like it’s on fire, gaze entranced by the way Doyoung looks on all fours, hovering over Jaehyun.

“I want all of you…” Jaehyun answers truthfully, eyes traveling down to where Doyoung’s hands have stilled below his pectorals. His eyes fixate on Doyoung’s prosthetic hand, gulping the words he finds himself incapable of expressing. Doyoung shifts, moving the hand Jaehyun’s observing up his chest, the cool metal brushing Jaehyun’s left nipple.

A guttural moan is ripped from his throat, Jaehyun desperately propping himself onto his elbows to get a better view. His need for Doyoung grows carnal, prosthetic fingers outstretched over Jaehyun’s collarbone until – oh.

Doyoung’s staring at Jaehyun with parted lips, tongue poking out slightly in concentration just as he wraps his hand around Jaehyun’s throat in a lazy attempt of a grip. Regardless, the damage it has on Jaehyun is irreparable, Jaehyun’s face flushing in morbid embarrassment. Doyoung’s eyebrows furrow.

“Sorry, Jaehyunnie. Did I perhaps misunderstand that you –”

“No!” Jaehyun cuts in, perfectly capable of breathing normally as the pressure of Doyoung’s hand is nonexistent. “No, it’s just. I’m embarrassed. I hadn’t realized you’d found out that I…”

“That you like my prosthetic hand on you?” Doyoung supplies with a quirk of an eyebrow. The conversation is easy, though, their relationship beyond the confinements of misunderstandings.

Jaehyun only nods and feels Doyoung’s fingers twitch, eliciting a groan. “I like all of you. Touching me,” Jaehyun explains uselessly. “But it fills me with pride to know that something I made for you can be used as intimate as this.” Sex, Jaehyun’s mind supplies as an afterthought, sighing into the chilly room.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” Doyoung whispers before his other hand is moving, tracing circles on his neglected nipple. “Why must you be so endearing and perfect?”

Jaehyun doesn’t have time to process the rhetorical question because Doyoung’s prosthetic fingers are moving again, gently cupping his jaw until they’re pressing firmly at the edge of Jaehyun’s lip. Jaehyun silently complies at the pressure, opening his mouth to take Doyoung’s thumb into his mouth. The taste is as he expects – bitter and rustic, reminding Jaehyun of the hours he spends inside his workshop working with the material.

Doyoung watches him like he’s daydream, the man’s eyes glued to Jaehyun’s lips, so he decidedly puts on a show. Swirling his tongue around the digits isn’t enough, Jaehyun making the split-second decision to poke it past his lips and beckon more of Doyoung’s fingers into Jaehyun’s mouth.

Soon enough, Doyoung’s thumb is joined by his index and middle fingers carefully mapping the inside of Jaehyun’s mouth the way the man’s tongue had been only few minutes ago. The motion elicits a deep groan from Doyoung, lips parted while he stares at Jaehyun suck on each digit. Jaehyun moans in response when one of the fingers presses down into his molar, sending a chill down his spine.

“You look so pretty taking my fingers in your mouth, Jaehyunnie,” Doyoung sighs in praise. “I can’t wait for your hole to take them soon enough.” Jaehyun swallows thickly, dick twitching between their bodies. Doyoung catches his obvious interest, humming melodically. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Pulling his fingers out of Jaehyun’s mouth, Doyoung guides his hand down Jaehyun’s chest, a wet trail of Jaehyun’s saliva tracing the path of his lust. Jaehyun can’t help but hiss when Doyoung circles his left nipple, the one he’d been teasing previously, only to pinch it lightly afterward.

Jaehyun’s back arches off the bed further, hissing through his teeth at the jolting sensation. “Doyoung,” Jaehyun pleads, but for what, he does not know.

“Admit that you like it,” Doyoung whispers, the skin on the pads of his fingers tracing circles on his neck while his prosthetic hand continues its teasing ministrations. “Admit that you’re gorgeous when you’re full of me.”

This time, Doyoung pinches harder, eliciting a loud moan from Jaehyun. “I do!” Jaehyun wails, screwing his fingers shut at the obscene sight. “I love having any part of you inside me.” His voice is shaking in anticipation, waiting for the moment Doyoung’s deemed his fun and decides to want him lustfully.

The smile Doyoung flashes him is peaceful, but Jaehyun knows the malicious nature of it, too. He looks so good and Jaehyun selfishly wants him all to himself. “See? Always so good for me. Always letting me know what you like.”

“Doyoung, please,” Jaehyun manages through a strained voice, mind slowly reeling. Doyoung doesn’t relent, massaging every inch of Jaehyun’s chest until his dick is aching with the need to be touched.

Doyoung ignores him, bending down to trace the defined lines of his abdomen, lapping softly at the scorching skin. No longer capable of restraining himself, Jaehyun cries out, fingers carding through Doyoung’s hair and pulling when Doyoung dips lower. The man above him releases a puff of warm breath above Jaehyun’s belly button, the sensation overwhelming.

“I can hear how hard you’re breathing,” Doyoung points out, eyes flicking up to meet Jaehyun’s with a dangerous glint. “I can’t believe you’re about to come by me just licking your abs.”

Jaehyun tugs at the strands within his grasp, pushing Doyoung further down to close the distance. He’s open-mouthed panting now, Jaehyun’s aware of it, but Doyoung looks so hot. Jaehyun thinks about how hot Doyoung would look with his pretty lips wrapped around his –

The mental image flashes white behind his eyes, Doyoung’s warm tongue licking at his belly button in that precise moment. The sensation is mind-numbing, his toes curling as Doyoung mimics his kissing of Jaehyun’s mouth from earlier.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun gasps wantonly, Doyoung’s teeth scraping the skin around his belly button before sucking forcefully. The other man moves with the intent to mark him and seemingly make Jaehyun his.

And Jaehyun loves it.

He doesn’t notice the extent of his frustration for more until he hears Doyoung’s attempts at soothing him, free hand securely holding down Jaehyun’s thigh. “Easy, baby. Do you want me to touch you, is that it?” Doyoung’s eyes peek down at Jaehyun’s co*ck and he licks his lips enticingly, despite Jaehyun’s view being obstructed.

“Need your hands on me,” Jaehyun pants, body convulsing with renewed lust when Doyoung dips his head to lick a stripe down his abs.

“But they’re on you already,” Doyoung teases, earning him a whine from Jaehyun.

“You know I’m talking about your hands on my co*ck,” Jaehyun accuses. “That’s what I need!”

Doyoung grins lazily and it makes the hairs on Jaehyun’s arm rise to a stand. Humming in quick response, he wraps his prosthetic hand around Jaehyun’s co*ck and Jaehyun nearly blacks out. The remainder of his strength is used to prop himself up, witnessing the way Doyoung’s fingers curl around his painfully red dick, carefully spreading the beads of precome that’ve accumulated down the rest of the sensitive skin. Four tugs is all it takes for Jaehyun’s vision to blur and grow littered with dark spots, dick spurting his seed onto Doyoung’s fingers and the sheets around them.

Jaehyun’s attention remains unfocused as Doyoung hovers away and Jaehyun’s body misses him for however long he’s gone. When Jaehyun’s mind registers the dip of the mattress behind him, it’s too late. Doyoung’s already wrapping his freakishly strong arms around his torso and hoisting him upright, Jaehyun’s head bobbing to one side. His body feels malleable, mind incapable of directing his motor functions to move his limbs.

Doyoung sits him on his lap, the man’s dick nestled between Jaehyun’s back and his stomach. “You’re so pretty, baby,” Doyoung coos, stroking whatever expanse of skin he can get his hands on. “I think it would be a crime if you didn’t get to see how pretty you are.” Jaehyun’s eyes snap open at the words, instantly regretting his mistake.

Doyoung’s arranged them so that he’s sitting, leaning back onto the headboard of Jaehyun’s bed with Jaehyun in his lap, both men facing the mirror on the opposite wall. The angle is perfect to see Jaehyun’s own ass, tight hole and recovering dick on display. Jaehyun blinks, catching his matted hair sticking in various directions while his skin is covered by a thin sheen of sweat, saliva, and come. There’re translucent white spots on his thighs, and the sinking realization that his come’s already dried up makes him vaguely scrunch his nose.

Behind him, Doyoung chuckles. “Sorry, love. I didn’t bother cleaning you up because I plan to make more of a mess out of you,” the man pants hotly into his ear, his fingers wrapping around Jaehyun’s flaccid co*ck. Jaehyun can’t help but hiss in oversensitivity, lolling his head back to rest on Doyoung’s right shoulder.

“Doyoung, you can’t say things like that to me.”

Doyoung hums, sinful tongue coming to lick Jaehyun’s earlobe. “Remember the first night when we found out we had feelings for each other? The way you opened yourself so pretty for me and told me I wouldn’t be able to watch? The way you told me I’d be able to in the future?”

The memory’s burned into brain, how could Jaehyun ever forget? He bites his lower lip, groaning when Doyoung’s fingers flex over his co*ck. Curse Doyoung for attempting to eliminate his refractory period. “Y-yeah,” Jaehyun stutters.

“Are you okay with making good on your promise now?” Jaehyun outright groans at Doyoung’s husk-laced words. He does not reply, only nodding his head a couple of times. Jaehyun feels his hair drip sweat onto Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung clicks his tongue, sighing softly into the top of Jaehyun’s head. “You know I only take orders from you when you speak them, baby.”

“Yes, I want to!” Jaehyun offers desperately, thighs quivering despite resting on the plush sheets. Doyoung takes pity on him, kissing softly on the expanse of Jaehyun’s exposed neck.

“Then be good for me and open wide,” Doyoung instructs soothingly, bringing his prosthetic fingers into Jaehyun’s mouth once more. Jaehyun initially chokes on the two digits inserted, brain too slow to process the movement, but quickly begins swirling his tongue around the metal.

“That’s good, love,” Doyoung praises, Jaehyun watching through the mirror as his hand shifts on his dick to wrap his thumb and pointer finger around the base of Jaehyun’s co*ck. Lazily, Doyoung pumps his co*ck, thumb occasionally dragging against the crown and earning a hiss from Jaehyun. “Love the sounds you make for me. It makes me feel like I’m taking care of you well.”

Jaehyun babbles incoherently around the fingers, gurgling occasionally when Doyoung’s fingers press too far back into his mouth, erection turning painful.

“Get my fingers extra wet,” Doyoung commands and watches Jaehyun’s reactions intently. Jaehyun obliges, coating Doyoung’s fingers with all the saliva his body can produce. From the mirror, he can tell there’s an angry flush on his chest, splotchy in nature but nonetheless covering the majority of his skin.

Humming, Doyoung pulls his fingers out of his mouth, a thick trail of slobber following suit. The only warning Jaehyun gets is a quiet, “Spread your thighs a bit more. Watch yourself, love.” Then, Doyoung’s free hand is guiding his thighs further apart and pressing his wet fingers against Jaehyun’s rim. His position on Doyoung’s lap allows for slight elevation and a slim window for Doyoung’s hand to snake its way down Jaehyun’s body.

“Stars,” Jaehyun breathes out at the sensation of Doyoung’s cold fingers meeting his feverish body. Doyoung prods his fingernails further past the rim, eliciting a shuddering breath from Jaehyun whose instincts force his knees together.

“No, baby. Keep them open,” Doyoung chastises, prying his thighs open again before dropping his prosthetic fingers to massage against his perineum. It’s the perfect distraction to sink his fingers further inside Jaehyun, Doyoung pressing a soothing kiss to Jaehyun’s jaw. “So tight. Relax for me, hm?”

Choking on his saliva, Jaehyun breathes out through his nose and wills himself to do as instructed. Doyoung’s fingers cause the opening to burn the further they prod into him despite the number of times they’ve f*cked. Jaehyun’s discovered his penchant for taking care of Doyoung throughout the course of their relationship, but his necessity to satisfy the other man’s needs and while feeling needed have him begging for more.

Pressing a loud kiss against Jaehyun’s exposed temple, Doyoung bends his head lower, Jaehyun watching the reflection copying the way Doyoung’s long eyelashes kiss the man’s high cheeks. Through the mirror, their eyes meet. “Jaehyunnie, can you be good for me now and open yourself up?” His hand trembles when he lifts it off the comforter, carefully traveling to the mess Doyoung’s made of his bodily fluids. He absentmindedly traces his hole despite Doyoung’s fingers still buried inside him. “That’s good, love. I’m going to remove my fingers out and let you take over; does that sound good?”

With a quick nod, Jaehyun swallows and feels the hoarseness of his throat while watching Doyoung’s fingers act upon his promise, Jaehyun’s own slipping past his rim. His body shudders in response, breath hitching when Doyoung’s cool fingers settle at his waist. Doyoung’s other free hand starts jerking Jaehyun off, deliberately stroking in tandem with Jaehyun’s movements.

Jaehyun’s familiar with his own body, knows just the place to crook the two fingers inside him and have his jaw locking in place.

“Do that again,” Doyoung commands, enthused by Jaehyun’s reaction. Jaehyun obeys, brushing over and over again along his walls until he inches closer to his prostate. “Good, love.” Doyoung’s hand quickens its strokes, thumbing at the crown of Jaehyun’s dick. It feels so good, despite his co*ck’s oversensitivity from his first org*sm. Jaehyun makes it unforgettable by pressing into his prostate, gasping noisily into the room. If he came right now, Jaehyun doesn’t think he’d be capable of a third round and he vaguely thinks this spells the end of the night, but Doyoung’s got other plans.

Lost in his own ecstasy, Jaehyun fails to notice Doyoung’s prosthetic pointer finger pressing against his hole and slipping past the rim to join Jaehyun’s scissoring two. Jaehyun can’t help but scream, eyes rolling to the back of his head from the pleasure. His head is tilted back, looking at the blurring white lights of his room. Doyoung has once again taken control, working his hand on his co*ck unlike anything Jaehyun’s ever experienced before and dominating the task of opening Jaehyun up.

The second time Jaehyun comes, he whites out, waking up a few minutes after coming on his stomach. Doyoung’s behind him, pressing soothing kisses down his spine. “I’m sorry, baby. Was that too much? Do you want to get showered? I know it’s a lot but –”

“No,” Jaehyun reassures firmly, carefully pushing himself off the bed. Through the mirror, he watches Doyoung sit back again, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He looks cute until Jaehyun’s eyes catch his beautiful dick, painfully hard. “Not yet. I need you. Need you inside me or I’ll die, Doyoung.” You don’t understand, he wants to say, but is too embarrassed and co*ck dumb to say so.

Twisting his torso to face Doyoung, the other man’s apprehension melts away as he stares back tenderly at Jaehyun. “Okay, love. Take what you want. I’m going to sit back and watch you take what’s yours.”

Jaehyun’s on his lap within the second, exhaustion be damned. Perhaps he slams Doyoung back into the headboard a bit too brusquely, but it’s all worth it when their dicks rub together. Lining up Doyoung’s dick with his ass, Jaehyun sinks onto the man’s dick in one swift motion, causing them to moan in unison.

He doesn’t stop there, lifting himself up until only Doyoung’s tip remains past his rim before slamming back down on his lap. Doyoung’s vice grip on his hip falters, fingers digging into the skin that will surely bruise later. Jaehyun repeats the motion until his initial adrenaline runs out, muscles spasming with fatigue and pleasure. From behind him, the noise of skin slapping skin is obscene, squelching noises rising in volume every time Jaehyun impales himself deeper.

“Doyoung…” he manages, wishing he could explain his abrupt sluggishness and ask Doyoung for help.

Doyoung understands regardless, pressing Jaehyun's body flush against his chest. Jaehyun’s eyelids droop down, his own co*ck long forgotten between them, blinking slowly through his consciousness. He ends up hooking his chin over Doyoung’s shoulder to provide a source of stability for his head while he takes Doyoung to the hilt. His thighs shake when Doyoung relieves the stress underneath his weight, plowing up into him despite Jaehyun’s newfound state of weightlessness.

“So tight, love. Haven’t f*cked you like this since our first time, right?” Doyoung pants into his ear and Jaehyun curses the fact he’s no longer able to stare at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun murmurs, the slapping noises increasing in volume as Doyoung thrusts deeper into Jaehyun. Turning his head to the side, Jaehyun kisses the corner of Doyoung’s lips with an open-mouthed kiss, dry tongue attempting to lick past the opening. Doyoung turns his head in response, deepening the kiss and smiling into it.

At a particularly loud moan from Jaehyun into his mouth, Doyoung takes the opportunity to snake his prosthetic hand between him, pumping Jaehyun’s oversensitive co*ck between them. “I know it hurts, love, but can you come once more for me?” Doyoung whispers into his lips when they pull apart, Jaehyun’s sweaty forehead resting against Doyoung’s.

“For you,” Jaehyun pants between them, voice hoarse from use, “I’ll do anything.”

Jaehyun feels Doyoung twitch inside him and thrusts impossibly faster until he’s feeling a wet sensation within his walls. Doyoung shoots his load inside him at the same time Doyoung’s fingers pull back on the crown of Jaehyun’s co*ck in the most perfect way, sending Jaehyun over the edge for the third time that night.

Collapsing to the side, Jaehyun’s shocked to find that Doyoung follows, still warmly inside him. “Stars,” Doyoung mutters into the little space that’s between them. “You were amazing, Jaehyunnie. I love you. I love you so much.” Doyoung presses soft kisses to his eyelids that are beginning to sting, from exhaustion or emotion – Jaehyun does not know. Doyoung finally slips out of Jaehyun, rearranging them more comfortably.

“I love you, Doyoung. I meant it when I said I’ll love you until my dying breath.”

Doyoung snorts. “I don’t want you dying, silly man. No dying allowed. Let’s promise each other that.” Jaehyun feels their connection shift in emotions, briefly morphing into anxiety over what’s to come. The end is near, but the most difficult obstacles lay ahead.

With the last energy Jaehyun’s capable of mustering, he raises his arm to pat his hand against Doyoung’s head. The man beneath his touch flinches at the power behind his motion, and Jaehyun breathily chuckles to brush Doyoung’s hair back. “I promise. Now sleep. We’ll need to talk to the Mandalorians before we reach Ossus. They’ve got some things they’ll probably want to say to you.”

“I trust that they do. But okay,” Doyoung concedes, returning Jaehyun’s ministrations. “For now, rest.” Jaehyun falls asleep to Doyoung carding his fingers through his hair, a smile plastered on his face and his heart restored to normality.