That sort of tight-curled body almost always means pain. Bly pauses at the edge of the camp, attention caught by the last campfire before the ring of sentries. A man, Human, is seated on a rock by the fire, curled in on himself with his knees drawn up, and the length of his limbs means he’s probably tall, but he’s managed to press himself down into a knot that looks strangely vulnerable. He doesn’t have a cloak, but there's a worn pack on the ground next to him, and he wouldn’t be the first intelligence officer to look a little out of place in the middle of a battalion of clones.

“Shh, shh, we’re almost there,” Feemor murmurs, and the trembling teenage girl pressed tight to his side gives a jerky nod, though she doesn’t release her death grip on his belt.

Commander Ponds whirls around at the sound of Mace’s step and bolts up to his feet. He begs Mace not to take Boba back to Kamino. He says that he’ll look after him. He’ll take responsibility. With hands pressed together, he pleads for mercy for his brother. Mace tells him not to be ridiculous. Of course he isn’t taking Boba back to Kamino. He’s waiting, that’s all. It is only fair to give everyone a second chance. Even Jango Fett. (An AU where Mace Windu acquires and shares custody over a six-year-old Boba with Jango.)

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dark Lord of the Sith, takes a hostage. If he wanted it to go smoothly, he probably shouldn't have picked Feral, no matter how much of a pain Maul is.

There's a Jedi standing on the landing platform, entirely unmoving, and he’s been there for almost ten minutes now.