LEILANI SERENNO bridged the past and the present, born into a family of cruelty and then groomed to fulfil a role in the grand scheme of things. She was a puppet manipulated by her brother, ensnared in a larger narrative orchestrated by the Force. Y...
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Of all the mysteries that had unravelled in the past weeks, this one felt the most deliberate, as if the Force itself had begun pulling loose the threads of a long-buried truth.
First, it had been Fives—the trooper whose desperate, incoherent warnings had shaken the foundation of everything they thought they understood about the clone army. Chips. Inhibitors. A hidden directive buried within the very minds of the Republic's soldiers. Blaze was still investigating, his focus unshaken, combing through what little information remained of Fives' research; his findings and work were painstakingly slow.
And now—this.
The lost ship of Master Sifo-Dyas. A name spoken only in whispers, a ghost of the past resurfacing in the present.
It had been over a decade since Sifo-Dyas had vanished from the Order's records, his name tethered to secrets few dared to unravel. He had been the one to commission the clone army, the one who had foreseen a war before there had been even a whisper of it. And yet, his fate had been sealed in ambiguity, his death attributed to a simple accident, a misfortune swept away by time and distraction.
But now, his ship had been found. Drifting. Silent. Suspended in the vacuum of space like a spectre refusing to be forgotten.
The implications were staggering.
Leilani stood in still contemplation, fingers ghosting over the edge of a datapad, as if the weight of this revelation could be measured by mere touch. The timing of it all was too much to be coincidence. First the clones. Now Sifo-Dyas.
The past was clawing its way into the present.
"We would require your help, Leilani," Obi-Wan told her through the holocomm. "We were supposed to find clues about master Dyas on Felucia, but the tribes may be too primitive to understand what we want," he explained.
"What he means is that he can't understand the language," came Anakin's voice as he stepped into view, arms crossed, his smirk evident even through the holo.
Leilani arched a brow, tilting her head ever so slightly as she caught the subtle flush on Obi-Wan's cheeks.
Anakin, of course, was delighted.
She shook her head in quiet amusement. "Send me the coordinates," she said, already reaching for her travel pack. "I'll leave immediately."
Obi-Wan exhaled, nodding in relief, though he was clearly ignoring the pointed look Anakin shot him.
"See you soon, General Serenno," Anakin added, and before Obi-Wan could protest, the transmission cut out.
Leilani did not waste time.
Her steps were precise as she moved through the corridors of the Temple, the weight of duty pressing against her shoulders with quiet insistence. The soft rustle of her robes was the only sound in the dimly lit halls, the steady hum of the planet's endless traffic a distant murmur beyond the stone walls.
