Lumiya dreamed, dreamed her way through a sleep so perfect that it was pristine. But her dreams were not free. But her dreams were not of the past, but of the future, of one where she and Luke were staring at each other on a world unknown to her. Luke looked haggard, and tired, and old. He had to be past sixty, and his face was scarred almost horribly. She felt herself throw off her veil, and Lumiya blinked, in shock, at the words that they shared. Mara? Lumiya wondered if she was seeing the future - or a future. It simply couldn't happen, now. Or had it? Would it? For a terrible moment, Lumiya felt as if she was the vessel on which the past and future spun into different directions? Or was it something she was to do? Or had done? She could only stare at Luke, hypnotic, as he battered her to an inch of her life, and then disarmed her. She fell. With all her willpower, Lumiya wished for everything to change. Everything. And Luke reached for her! He grabbed her, and she stared, calmness falling upon her. "I'd never let you fall." He wouldn't! She knew it! She knew he wouldn't - Then his blade swept over her neck, and she was - - awake. Luke awoke, sitting up quickly, but Shira didn't move, though she was awake. She had survival skills, and they very nearly overwhelmed the feeling that had risen in her - affection. When Shira didn't sense any immediate danger, she sat, not focusing on modesty. Such concerns were beyond a Sith. Luke was swaddled in his cloak, like her, an impromptu blanket on the soft grass of Ruusan. Luke had asked his question. Lumiya answered, shaking off her dream, making it so that future would never become reality. "Yes. Palpatine has returned." Lumiya spoke with some shock remaining from the revelation. "Vader should have anticipated this." In the sky, more presences filled the void, and death surrounded the Force. "He is here, and your father is on his way." There was little else to say. They would have to act. Undoubtedly. Lumiya stood, dressing. "We have to take the power of the Valley and use it. Come. I have one last lesson to teach you. And then you can become Dark Lord."
Fett wandered around Taris considering the mess he had dropped himself in the middle of. In pretty much every way he thought the Rebellion was illegal and smacked against every sense of justice that was in the bounty hunter. But from this last contract of the Empire there were things that bothered him as well. Targeting children... Mando children, his people's children, was wrong. They had done nothing to deserve what Fett was going to return them to, and seeing his daughter was forcing him to reconsider everything again. Sure, she hated him, but she WAS his daughter. That was seen in every action she made, her self-assurance of her capabilities, the lack of hesitation in shooting him... It was all things he had helped instill in her, just as it was things his wife Sintas had worked to help their daughter grasp as well. By choice Fett had not thought about either one of them for nigh on a decade, but now he was being forced to do so. His family, the single most important thing to any Mandalorian, was here and his daughter hated him. For the first time Boba regretted some of his decisions. It scared him. Badly. So he was faced with several choices, leave the Rebellion and his people to their injustice or aid them against the Empire in it's own injustice. It should have been a no-brainer, it should have been the easiest choice he had ever made. Yet it would also require a complete change from everything he had ever done with his life. Fighting the lawful government of the galaxy was not something that Boba was sure he could do. But what would his father do? Could he ever manage to live up to his father's legacy, even while his father had been stupid? No, I can't think that about him. He made a mistake. I've made mistakes. That's the problem with being human. You make mistakes and you have to live with them. Why couldn't you have made this easier on both of us Sintas? Why couldn't you have refused me? With that Boba Fett, one of the most feared men in the galaxy, fell down with his back against a wall in some alley afraid. Afraid of the future. Afraid of having failed the memory of his father. Afraid of the failure to his family he had been. Afraid of turning away from everything he had ever stood for. Afraid of fighting for something that wasn't just. Bowing his head, the greatest bounty hunter the galaxy had ever seen, one of the hardest men anyone had ever fought wept. His choice had been made. Briefing Room Normally being inconspicuous in Mandalorian armor was a nearly impossible thing to accomplish, but given that he was not the only one there in in said armor was something at least. He had refused to take off his helmet however, and as he listened to the Rebellion's leaders he realized how hopelessly over matched they actually were. What have I gotten myself into? As everyone knew, Fett was a master of getting out of and turning impossible situations to his advantage, but that was partially because he got to pick his battles and what he chose to do that was impossible. Should he actually join this group, which it looked like he was, he would NOT get to pick but would instead be assigned. Without pay. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to do this for free, but there was the principal to consider. He was worth the work he did, and if he wasn't paid then was he worth anything? But then could they even afford to pay his prices? Earn their trust first, then charge them after. After they realize how valuable I am. I can deal with that. Katarn had been "assigned" going to a valley concerned with the Jedi, simply because no one else was willing to do it. Fett remained silent, considering the implications of this mission. He could deliver a blow to the legacy of the Jedi, and it would be sanctioned by the Rebellion, so it would also help to earn their trust. In short, it was a complete win/win scenario should he actually be interested in joining the Rebellion, which he would no longer be here were he not doing that. Then there was the other plan... The one that was to hit Kuat. It was something he was not terribly interested in getting involved with. He did not want to deal with another big battle at the moment, or trying to steal from a legitimate shipyard that had done nothing to earn his ire. That settled things. Besides, it would mean he did not have to deal with several of the other Rebels like Princess Leia and Han Solo. Sadly that would come later, but if it could be postponed that would not be a bad thing. Into the silence following Muri's spiel Fett spoke up. "I would be willing to aid Katarn in gathering information on the Valley of the Jedi. Free of charge to prove my good will." His voice came out from his helmet's speaker in it's typical monotone, it seemed as though a robot were speaking, betraying none of his earlier emotions.
Automatically Fett's hand drifted towards his blaster at the sight of someone walking down the alley. Regardless of the fact that the odds of someone doing something untoward to him, it was a reasonably vulnerable position he found himself in. Immediately the tears ceased, and he was back in complete control. That was one thing he had trained into himself since the death of his father, control at all times no matter the pain be it physical or emotional. Emotions and pain were for when you were safe and alone, and no other time. Blinking, Fett was not precisely prepared for the words that came out of the ARC's speaker. Brother? Does the fact that they were trained by Dad make them brothers? They insist on it, but that does not make it so. None of them were his true sons. I was the only one to recieve that honor. Half brothers. Maybe. Conscience was something Fett had never really been accused of having. Was that what had happened? Fett refused to consider it. Rather it was his sense of Justice that had demanded he break his contract... I broke a contract. It was something he had never done. Ever. I broke my word. Is that what a conscience does? I do not like that. Fett was his word. It was why he was paid the most. He always delivered on the contract in the most demanded fashion. This was something that would require much thought... but later. Later. Why the sudden change of heart. It was a good question, but Fett did not think it was his heart. Instead it was his realization of the lack of justice in the Empire that he had never seen before. In some ways it made him question whether there was justice in the galaxy at all beyond what individuals made for themselves. All he had known at that moment was that what the Empire had hired him to do was unjust, and he refused to do any such action. However his response to the ARC was a silent stare through is visor, something that had unnerved the majority of people he had ever faced down. Finally the real reason for his coming was found. Apparently none of the clones wanted to fight him, because "Father" wouldn't want them to. Father... What would Father have wanted of him? To actually become Mandalore most likely, to lead their people to greatness again. To become feared by the galaxy again instead of a bunch of bounty hunters and mercenaries. That was unlikely to happen now with their homeworld having been nearly destroyed. Slowly he rose, realizing what he did indeed have to do. The Empire had to be paid back for destroying Mandalore... and it would be his penance for helping. And that was what Gunlock was asking of him. That was one of the things he did know, all of the ARC's names. He had surely worked with them several times. After several more moments of silence on his part a voice emitted from his helmet's speaker. "You're right, My father would not want us to fight, but my reasons are my business." He stared hard at the other man, his voice having inflection only on the one word. "Was there anything else?" It wasn't really a confirmation that he would join the Rebellion, but why should he tell Gunlock what he was going to do? It wasn't his business as far as Fett was concerned.