2
When they were climbing down from the monastery Wisteria had made Crus swear, he would not reveal the extent of her powers as he knows them. In return, so he isn’t lying to his brothers she would stick to more physical uses of magic. The standard telekinesis and occasional weather manipulation- it always got windy when she was scared.
Crus had told her that he may be new to the battlefield, but brothers don’t lie or keep secrets from each other. In a way, Wis was jealous of his dynamic. To always be surrounded by family was the wish she would make every year on her birthday.
The clones turned to Wisteria, their expressions a mix of curiosity and gratitude. “Thank you,” one of them said. “For helping our little brother.”
“No, no, nope,” Wisteria shook her head. “It's the least I can do.”
As Wisteria stood among the battered but relieved clones, her gaze lingered on the fallen soldiers scattered around. She could see the grief in Crus’s eyes, on the shoulders of the clones who still survived, as they quietly processed the loss of their brothers.
Wisteria kept her face calm, determined to be a steady presence. At fourteen, she'd seen her share of death and loss, and although these men were strangers from another world, she couldn’t help feeling connected to them.
Crus placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a nod of gratitude that said more than words could. “Alright, vode,” he said, addressing the clones. “Let’s keep moving and see if there’s anyone else out there.”
The group split off in pairs, spreading out to search the area while Wisteria stuck close to Crus. They walked in silence, only the soft crunch of debris underfoot and the chirps of jungle creatures around them. Crus occasionally glanced at her, wary yet intrigued, no doubt trying to piece together who—or what—she was. Wisteria knew she would need to stay careful; after all, she wasn’t in her own world, and she had no idea how people here might react to magic.
“So,” Crus said as they picked their way through a line of fallen droids, “how did you end up on Teth?”
Wisteria hesitated, deciding to keep her explanation simple. “It was… an accident. I don’t think I was supposed to be here,” she admitted. “There was this… portal thing, and next thing I knew, I was landing in the jungle.”
He raised an eyebrow under his helmet, but he nodded, respecting her boundaries. “You’re strong for someone who’s clearly not a soldier,” he observed. “Most natborns would be emptying their guts at the sight around.”
Wisteria shrugged, shifting her grip on her wand. “I’ve had to learn fast, and nothing phases me anymore.”
As they moved forward, Wisteria sensed a strange, subtle disturbance in the air. She stopped, eyes narrowing. Crus noticed and scanned the area, picking up on her unease. Just ahead, barely visible through the underbrush, she caught sight of a figure, motionless in the shadow of a large tree.
It was another clone, his armour dented and scorched, but a faint rise and fall of his chest told her he was alive. She moved quickly, kneeling beside him, casting a quiet healing charm to stabilize his breathing. Crus gave her a long look, both impressed and grateful, before calling to the others.
“Over here!” he shouted. The clones converged around them, quickly checking the injured man. Yet they had been too distracted in their little conversation to not notice they were being followed.
A younger-looking soldier with a curious gaze turned to her. “How’d you do that?” he asked awe in his voice.
Wisteria fumbled for an explanation, her mind racing. “I… know a little about healing,” she said vaguely, brushing it off as best she could.
Crus gave her a reassuring nod. “She’s here to help, and that’s all you need to know,” he said, settling the clones’ curiosity with a tone of finality.
For the next hour, Wisteria worked alongside the clones, using subtle spells to lift heavier debris, shield them from brambles, and clear paths without drawing too much attention. She noticed that Crus never revealed what he knew of her powers, respecting her earlier request to keep the extent of her abilities quiet. If anything, she could also say she was force-sensitive, Crus had given her a basic rundown on the powers in this galaxy.
They found two survivors, each one barely clinging to life. Wisteria tried not to let it show, but her heart ached each time they uncovered another injured soldier. Despite their pain.
Wisteria only counted two not all the ones that died in her arms. Most of the troops they found were already too far gone for healing, even filling them with her energy would bring no help, as their souls were to be claimed that day. For all her power Wisteria couldn’t go against Death.
After regrouping, the clones began planning a way back to the monastery for rest and recuperation. Crus walked over to her as the others coordinated. “You’re hiding a lot of power,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “You don’t have to, you know. The vode trusts you. They’ll respect your help however you choose to give it.”
She looked at him, meeting his gaze. “I’m used to hiding,” she admitted softly, glancing at the clones as they shared quiet conversations. “It’s safer that way. I don’t know if I can trust anyone with… everything.”
Crus’s gaze softened. “We don’t have to know everything to trust someone. Sometimes, it’s enough just to see them standing by your side.”
For the first time since she’d arrived in this strange galaxy, Wisteria felt a glimmer of hope.
The group began their trek back to the monastery, the injured clones carefully supported by their comrades.
Crus looked at Wisteria, her closer where she was tucked in his arms, after all, she was his saviour. Wisteria and her magic. “You’re one of us now, Wis. We stick together.”
Wisteria smiled, feeling a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time. Wisteria found herself walking alongside Crus, her steps lighter as she realized that, for now, she was among friends.
Crus's keen eyes caught a peculiar sight. Embedded in the cliff face, partially concealed by vines and foliage, was a faint outline of what looked like a door.
“Over here,” Crus called, motioning the group to follow. He pushed aside the vines, revealing a hidden door in the rock. “Looks like we’ve found another way in.”
Wisteria examined the door, her wand ready hidden in her sleeve. “Do you think it's safe?”
Crus shrugged. “Safer than climbing back up the cliff. But we need to be cautious. There might still be droids inside.”
One of the clones, a soldier with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward. “I'll take point. If there are droids, we’ll manage them.”
Crus nodded. “Good idea, Fang. Let’s move.”
Fang pressed a hidden panel next to the door, and with a low rumble, it slid open, revealing a dark passageway.
“Stay close,” Crus instructed, his voice tense. “And stay alert.”
The group entered the passageway, the door sliding shut behind them with a resonant thud. The air inside was cool and damp, and the sound of their footsteps echoed softly off the walls. Wisteria's light revealed ancient carvings on the stone, hinting at the monastery's long history.
As they climbed, Wisteria felt a sense of foreboding. The passage seemed to stretch on endlessly, the stairs winding upwards in a dizzying spiral. She kept her wand aloft, her other hand trailing along the wall for support.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached a landing. Crus held up a hand, signalling for them to stop. He listened intently; the silence oppressive.
“I don't hear anything,” he whispered. “But that doesn't mean we're in the clear. Stay ready.”
They proceeded cautiously, Fang leading the way with his blaster at the ready. The corridor opened up into a larger chamber, revealing a small squad of battle droids, motionless and covered in dust.
“Looks like they're deactivated,” Fang said, moving forward to inspect the droids. “Probably left over from the battle.”
Wisteria felt a surge of relief. “Can we disable them, just to be sure?”
One of the other clones, a tech specialist named Mech, stepped forward. “I can handle that.” He quickly went to work, using a tool kit to disable the droids’ power sources.
As Mech worked, Wisteria explored the chamber. She found a small alcove with supplies—food rations, and extra ammunition. “We should take what we can. These might come in handy.”
The clones quickly gathered the supplies, their movements efficient and practised. With the droids deactivated and their packs restocked, they continued their ascent. The stairs led them through a series of interconnected chambers and passageways, each more ancient and eerie than the last.
Finally, they reached a large, reinforced door. Crus examined it, then turned to Wisteria. “This should lead back into the monastery. Are you ready?”
Wisteria nodded. “Let's do it.”
Fang and Crus pushed the door open, and the group stepped through, emerging into the monastery’s central chamber. The familiar sight was a welcome relief, the warm glow of Wisteria’s fire still flickering in the hearth.
“We made it back,” Crus said, a note of triumph in his voice. “Let’s secure the area and set up a watch rotation. We need to rest and regroup.”
Wisteria nodded, exhaustion finally catching up with her. She found a spot near the fire and sank to the floor, her back against the cool stone wall. The clones moved efficiently, securing entrances, and setting up defensive positions.
As the night wore on, Wisteria found herself talking with Crus and his brothers, learning more about their home world Kamino. She shared stories of her own, of Hogwarts and the friends she had left behind though slightly more tamed than the actual versions.
Suddenly, a faint but ominous sound echoed through the corridors—a mechanical whirring that sent a chill down Wisteria’s spine. Crus’s helmet snapped up, and the clones immediately sprang to their feet, weapons at the ready.
“We’ve got company,” Fang hissed, his eyes scanning the darkened entrances.
Before they could react, a squad of battle droids burst into the chamber, their blasters blazing. The clones returned fire, the air filled with the deafening sounds of blaster shots and the acrid smell of burning metal. Wisteria scrambled to her feet, wand in hand.
“Protego!”, casting a shield charm to deflect the incoming blaster bolts. The shimmering barrier provided temporary protection, but the droids continued to advance, relentless in their assault. She was lucky she was able to perform it without her wand. That would have brought so much attention.
“Fall back! Defend the entrances!” Another clone commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos.
Wisteria’s heart pounded as she moved to a better vantage point, her mind racing. She needed to do more, to protect her friends. Taking a deep breath, she focused her magic, drawing on her inner reserves.
“Confringo!” aiming at a group of droids. A powerful explosion erupted obliterating several droids and sending debris flying. The effort left her momentarily winded, but she pressed on, determined to hold the line. It wasn’t every day you used wandless magic. It was hard to focus without a foci to centre around.
The clones fought valiantly, their blasters cutting down droids with precision. But the sheer number of enemies threatened to overwhelm them. Wisteria saw one of the clones, Mech, take a hit to the shoulder. He gritted his teeth and kept firing, but she could see he was even in pain.
“We can’t hold them much longer!” Crus shouted, his blaster overheating from continuous fire. This was giving him more trauma than he started with. It was only his first deployment.
Wisteria knew she had to act fast. She raised her wand high, summoning all her strength. “Depulso!” she cried, sending a powerful wave of force that knocked back a dozen droids, buying them precious seconds.
But just as they were gaining the upper hand, a droid managed to flank them, firing a shot that hit Fang square in the chest. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.
“Fang!” Crus yelled, rushing to his fallen comrade’s side. The remaining clones redoubled their efforts, cutting down the last of the droids with ruthless efficiency. The chamber fell silent, save for the laboured breathing of the survivors.
Wisteria rushed to Fang’s side, her heart aching at the sight of his lifeless form. Crus frantically checked Fang’s vitals; his expression was grim.
“He is still alive, but barely. We do not have enough bacta to treat him properly,” Crus said, his voice tight with worry.
Wisteria’s mind raced. She could not let Fang die. Summoning the last of her strength, she placed her hands over his wound. “Vulnera Sanentur,” she chanted, her voice steady despite the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm her. She had only heard the spell in passing so using a wand was out of the question as she did not know the necessary movement, but magic was based on intention and Wisteria knew how to work with it. Magic seemed easier here without her wand to begin with. A soft, golden light enveloped Fang, slowly knitting his flesh back together. She turned to Mech with a light "episkey" healing the blaster burn.
The spells took a toll on Wisteria, draining her remaining energy. As the light faded, she felt her vision blur, her body growing weak. Crus caught her as she collapsed, lowering her gently to the ground.
“Thank you, Wisteria,” Crus whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and concern.
Wisteria managed a weak smile before her eyes closed, and darkness claimed her. She had done what she could. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she felt a deep sense of peace. They were safe, for now. And that was enough.