A guard passed the holding cell door, momentarily blocking the cool-toned light of the corridor. Depa reached out with the Force, hoping against hope that it would answer her call – but no, it remained elusive as ever, sliding through her metaphorical fingers, slippery as silk. It always did. They came with the stunners and the injections before whatever chemical they used could wear off.
Caleb sniffled in her lap. She pet his hair.
The braid was still there – they hadn't cut that – but the rest of his hair had grown shaggy. At least a month in captivity.
A month away from the Force. A month of watching her bright spark of a padawan suffer, silent but for his whimpers, growing thinner under her hands.
Her clothes had grown looser as well. She knew she should escape soon, that every day she remained their chances of escape diminished, but she had yet to see an opening. She had hoped that they would be moved and she could take Caleb and run, but either they would remain on Kaller or they had been transferred already while they'd been stunned. Their environment, or what Depa could make of it through the transparent square on the door, had not changed.
"Caleb," she gently said. "We need to exercise."
Caleb curled up tighter in her lap. He made a mournful noise that might've contained the words "Don't wanna."
"We must, padawan."
Depa lifted Caleb to his feet and settled into the opening stance of the first open-hand kata of Form III. It tugged at her thighs where it had never done so before. Was it the lack of the Force to support her, or was she wasting away to nothing?
Caleb reluctantly joined her. Slowly, they made their way through the kata, fundamentally alone as a Jedi never was despite being close enough to touch.
They continued through the next, and the next, until Caleb's steps started to falter. Depa stretched and let Caleb sleep with his head in her lap.
A guard passed the holding cell door, momentarily blocking the cool-toned light of the corridor. Depa reached out with the Force, hoping against hope that it would answer her call – but no, it remained elusive as ever, sliding through her metaphorical fingers, slippery as silk. It always did. They came with the stunners and the injections before whatever chemical they used could wear off.
Something settled next to her with the barest whisper of a clink. She turned her head and had to cut short her startled inhalation.
Two lightsabers she would recognize anywhere. Hers and Caleb's lay on the floor, clean and whole. She looked at the door, but no-one was storming in; the ceiling, however, had a ventilation grille Depa hadn't been able to reach alone and which Caleb hadn't been able to open standing on her shoulders.
It was open, now. Mace Windu peeked through the gap, hand outstretched where he'd used the Force to bring their lightsabers down in silence.
Depa clipped their lightsabers to their belts and hoisted a still-unconscious Caleb toward Mace. Her tiny padawan jerked when Mace brought him to his arms with the Force. He gasped audibly. Awake, then, to Depa's relief.
"I can't use the Force," Depa whispered.
The air grew thick around her and pushed at the soles of her feet. She surrendered to the Force and let herself be raised toward the ceiling in her old Master's intangible embrace.
Her arms reached the edge of the ventilation shaft. She helped haul herself up the final meter.
Caleb was awake now. Depa acknowledged the terrified hammering of her heart as she squeezed her padawan's shoulder and checked that both their lightsabers were still with them. Behind her, Mace replaced the grille.
"This way," Mace whispered. Depa took up the rear, Caleb sandwiched between them.
The ventilation shafts were a tight fit for her and Mace. Caleb fit through the joins, but the two adults had to breathe out and squeeze their way through. At least this the captivity had helped with, Depa glibly thought.
Eventually they came upon the air intake. It was another grille, this time vertical and set into a cliff face. Watery air blasted through it as Mace opened it and shimmied out to a platform.
"There's a cave opening below," Mace said as he levitated Caleb out of Depa's view.
A gust of wind threw a sheet of rain at Depa's face. She knew Mace was good at telekinesis, knew he'd been good enough to save countless men under his command, but still it rankled: this was her padawan, and she could do nothing to help.
Mace relaxed and let his hand drop. He turned to Depa. "How are they blocking you?"
Depa's hand rose to her shoulder, where she'd seen the needle marks. "Injections."
"It should wear off in a day or two."
A weight fell off her shoulders. This was temporary. Soon, she'd have the Force back and could return to her duties. But now she had to trust her old Master would take care of her once more.
A nod, and she floated away from the cliff into the gale. Her descent was steady despite the hammering the dark night wind provided.
She slid into a cranny of the cliff face and her feet touched the ground. She walked to where Caleb was standing and wrapped her arms around him. "The Force should return to you in a few days," she said.
"Oh," he replied. It was more than she'd gotten from him in weeks.
Mace's arrival blocked the wind. "We must move."
Again, Depa and Caleb followed Mace through an enclosed tunnel. This was mostly tall enough to walk in, and wide enough Depa could hold Caleb's hand. They navigated by the glow of their lightsabers. Without the Force, Depa couldn't feel the hum of the kyber crystal, but – soon.
"What happened?" Caleb asked. He was distraught, but Depa couldn't help but be relieved that he was speaking. "Why- Why did-"
"The Republic has fallen, and the Jedi with it," Mace said. They were far enough from the wind's path through the cliff that he could speak normally. "The Chancellor was the Sith Lord we were looking for all along. He activated control chips in the clones' brains to make them take the Jedi captive."
"And just what is he doing with all these captive Jedi?" Depa asked.
"Many are scattered in small facilities throughout the galaxy, as if in storage. For what, I cannot say. Your lightsabers were on Coruscant."
Depa took a deep breath. A Sith Lord in their midst, issuing them orders in a galactic game of dejarik, and none of them had noticed. "What is our plan?"
"I haven't been able to contact anyone else yet."
It was then that Depa paid attention to the set of Mace's shoulders and the stiffness of his gait. He had few physical tells, but Depa had been his padawan learner and then his friend for most of his life and knew them all like she knew her lightsaber. Her Master was afraid.
Mace turned off his lightsaber as they emerged from the caves. They were somewhere far enough from the facility that the external lights that had given some illumination to their entry into the cave system were visible.
Depa held on tighter to Caleb's hand and grabbed Mace's cloak with the other. Slowly he led them through uneven ground as the wind buffeted them.
Then Mace led them through a door and the wind and rain died out. Mace lit a small emergency light, red and dim, as they shook out their cloaks.
"Are we safe here?" Caleb asked.
"These ruins haven't been visited in centuries," Mace explained. "This room is mostly intact, though the rest of the building has come down over the millennia. It's safe enough for now, but tomorrow night we should get to my spaceship."
"Do you have food?" Depa asked.
Mace pulled out a pack from behind a broken pilaster and tossed them all ration bars. Depa unpeeled hers and tucked in. The bland bar tasted heavenly, and made warmth and hunger bloom in her stomach. She did her best to restrain herself and eat slowly. Mace gave her and Caleb a second ration bar.
When they were done with the food and the bottles of water Mace gave them – drinking, Depa realized that she'd been dehydrated – Caleb curled up in her lap and went out like a light. Depa rested hand on his shoulder.
"Is he always so tired?" Mace quietly asked.
"I suspect they only have one standard dose of their chemical, and he is lighter-weight than I."
Mace nodded. "I have some bedding."
They unrolled the sleeping bags. Depa opened the side zippers on two of them and connected them; she didn't think Caleb would deal well sleeping alone. She didn't think she would deal well sleeping alone.
When Mace moved to set his sleeping bag elsewhere, Depa caught him with a hand on the wrist. "Stay," she whispered.
Mace stared at her, gaze searching, before solemnly nodding. Depa opened the other side zipper on her sleeping bag and attached it to Mace's.
A bit of nudging woke up Caleb just enough to tuck him into a sleeping bag with Depa. Mace turned off the red light with a wave of his hand as he climbed in with them, plunging them into darkness.
At that moment, feeling the vague echo of Mace's Force usage, Depa realized not all the protectiveness and concern she had been feeling had been hers. "I think I can feel the Force," she murmured.
Mace sighed with relief. "Depa," he started.
"Mace?"
Her old master – her guardian, her caretaker – was curled around her, warm and solid, with a steady hand on Caleb's shoulder and his face in Depa's hair. "My padawan. Everything will be all right."
A final strand of tension left Depa. "It will," she said. "It will."
The storm whistled outside. Depa let the exhaustion of the past month settle over her like an additional blanket and joined Caleb in slumber.