FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The vast expanse of space encapsulated everything outside the cockpit. To those unfamiliar with the stars, it was easy to get lost; to be rendered completely incapable of knowing direction or distance without the aid of nearby celestial bodies. Some would consider the ensuing sensations of hopelessness and despair overwhelming at that point; yet some would focus on the pinpricks of light in the infinite reaches beyond, sparks of hope and warmth that could offer guidance. Even surrounded on all sides by darkness, they persisted. All one required was a hyperdrive to make the journey.

Yet even as Maeve pulled the ship out of hyperspace and eased her small transport into sublight speeds, the feeling of being lost lingered, for the vacuum was not short on its own dangers as well. With a deep breath, the teal-pelted Sergal forced herself to remain calm; it proved a difficult task, her training as a Sith focused more towards giving in to fear and rage, but it could not be helped- she needed the focus. She released her breath slowly, feeling the tension slip away as her shoulders sunk. A brief glance at her sensors assured her that there was no ship in the vicinity; just a single navigational beacon transmitting its details to her. Though she knew it would log her ship and position the moment she was in range, she took comfort in knowing she still had time, and still had one hope left. Her chances were better than most.

"Alright, little one," she murmured softly, pitching the ship towards the beacon. "Here we go."

It had taken weeks to ensure she was not being tracked, half of it spent in the vacuum trapped on her small ship and hoping to escape Republic notice as she darted through hyperspace lanes; the other half was spent in enormous spaceports, seeking rations and medical supplies to see her through her journey. What little time remained between hiding had been spent searching for a safe haven. She could not enact her plan until she found one. What remained now was reaching that haven, and sending out for help; calling for someone she hoped would be her savior.

She closed her eyes, stifling an abrupt sob with her paw as the pain of her memories flooded her. It had been months since he'd left, but she remembered every detail as if it had happened only hours prior. It had started with a curious calm; had swelled into a ship-wide emergency as the hangar reported an unauthorized launch of a restricted ship. It had awoken her in the middle of the night, and she had screamed out in anguish as she saw the Republic A-wing tear out of the hangar, too fast to be fired on. She had ordered the tractor beams be brought to bear, but it had been too late; rather than risk being imprisoned again, the escaped Jedi she'd been holding had made a blind jump into hyperspace. The scene replayed in her head several times, tears streaking down her face as she tried to fight her grief back. He had not even said good-bye, had not given her a chance to explain.

And as she reached the beacon, slowing her ship to a halt, she wondered if she'd ever see him again. What she intended to do would be the last chance she had.

She stared at the device, no bigger than a transport ship and floating placidly in the light of the gas giant of Yavin. A gentle beep pinged on her ship's computer, informing her that her ship's information had been logged into the beacon. Knowing full well its contents would not be transmitted anywhere for at least a week, she opened a frequency to the beacon- and an auto-slicing program with it. The readout on the screen halted for a second as it breached the beacon's security in short order, scanning for additional information and finding more than enough clear space. A brief flicker- and the readout changed in red letters.

BREAK-IN INITIATED - SPACE RESERVED - SELECT CONTENT FOR UPLOAD

Maeve sighed in relief before tugging a datacard from her robes and slipping it into the computer's primary port.

SCANNING... SCANNING... FILE UPLOADED - FILE DECAY SET FOR 72 HOURS

The Sergal swallowed, her heart beginning to race again as she turned to look away from the beacon. Ahead of her, just behind the beacon itself, the blue-green marble of Yavin 4 could be seen. Even from so far away, she could feel the tingles of life teeming on it, and the tug of a Force nexus on its surface. But none of these things interested her as she closed her eyes and reached out to the planet. Only one soul could help her now.

And as she felt herself speaking through the Force, she hoped her bond with that soul was strong enough.

Trent...

I need your help...

I was scared to leave. I wanted to keep you. It was wrong, and I'd take it all back if I could.

I know that you want your memories. But in exchange... I need your courage.

Find Yavin Prime's beacon. Link your ship's computer with it. You will need a password. It will be... the name you wanted to give me.

You must hurry. My message will only linger for three days, before it is lost. After that... it will be too late.

Please... help me.

Help us.

Trent woke up with a start.

A chill that had nothing to do with ambient temperature crawled up his spine as he sat up in his bunk, breathing as heavily as he would have if he'd been running nonstop for an hour. The gentle words of a female voice lingered in his head; a voice he knew well that generated a mix of animosity and comfort. Those feelings radiated through him as he clung to the sheet covering his lap. The black-furred feline Jedi drew in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves; his paw slid up his snow-white chest and covered his heart, trying to settle his heart rate down again. The shiver in his back tapered away, leaving a warm tingle.

Before long, there was only silence. The feline sighed, bringing a paw up to his head and rubbing his temple in circular motions. Part of him had hoped he would never hear that voice ever again; but another part of him was elated to have felt the presence of Lady Maeve in his mind. He shook himself awake, trying to parse through the message again as bit and pieces of his memories trickled into his mind. What little he could remember of his encounters with the Sith adept were muddled and confusing; moments of calm and curiosity as they talked. There had been a time when he'd hunted the figure, encounters he had clearly remembered where he'd crossed lightsabers with her; but try as he might, he could not remember any sense of danger or personal conflict between them, despite the fact that she'd been far more capable in combat than he'd ever been.

The silence broke to the sound of a distant jungle bird, its shrill cry piercing the air of Yavin 4's jungles in tandem with the break of a new dawn. He sighed, shaking his head again a few times and hoping the motion would jostle some new memory free, only to be disappointed when nothing came to mind.

He got up from his bunk, feeling unease beginning to settle in. He had escaped Lady Maeve only three months prior; the lack of his memories in the time he'd been away from the Jedi Praxeum, some year and a half, had left him rattled when he realized how long he'd been gone. At spending a month recovering, the feline wanted nothing more than to resume his duties and forget about Maeve, telling himself there was nothing worth remembering about her- only to find his thoughts lingering on her during private moments.

But now...

As if prompted by the sound of a blaster shot, the feline strode to his cabinet and started to dress into his robes. More than anything, he now wanted answers.

"Relax, Knight Trent," a smooth voice said quietly. The feline sighed and looked up at the green-scaled, elder Trandoshan; though from his vantage point he could only see the Jedi Master's wrist blocking his view. "You keep pushing me away almost reflexively when I try to press through your memories. Are you comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can be," Trent responded evenly as he lay flat against the medical bed. "I just want to make sure there's nothing important hidden in the parts of my memories I can't remember."

Master Moarn pulled his claws away from the younger man's forehead, peering down at him as he pressed his fingers gently against Trent's temples, giving the feline a clear view of the Trandoshan's focused visage. After a few moments, Trent could feel the gentle tug of the Force, ripples of tension that reverberated in his head as Moarn tried to loosen the haze that clouded the feline's memories. The sensation lasted for several minutes before the Trandoshan sighed and slid his claws away.

Trent frowned and sat up. "What's wrong?" he pressed.

"I can't delve any further," Moarn said simply. "What little I can sense is muddled and unfocused, and you continue to subconsciously pushing me away from those memories. That is no fault of your own, but it leads me to believe they may be personal or damaging. It's possible they may be linked to strong emotions, like pain. I would not have you relive whatever happened in your captivity just to sate your curiosity."

Trent scowled at him. "You don't want-- no. That's not good enough," he said, agitation building at the though of the skilled Consular giving up. "Everyone here knows you're an expert at reading mind through the Force, it was essentially your specialty! And you had no problem doing it when I got back to the Praxeum!"

Moarn shifted uneasily, casting his gaze to the other side of the room. Opposite him stood the Praxeum's chief healer, a Mon Calamari female named Cilghal; next to her was a gold-pelted Trianii female with sapphire eyes, who was giving Moarn a sympathetic look. It was the latter female who spoke first.

"Master Moarn made a... mistake, about half a year ago," she said quietly. "He has since made amends, and he can be trusted to do his work concerning mind tricks and memory concealment, like he used to. But you can't ask him to breach into your personal life if you_are subconsciously pushing him back- not when he's caused pain in the past by doing it before. It could be a self-defense mechanism meant to _prevent harm."

"Syrra is right," Cilghal said calmly. "Piercing such veils has the potential to _break_minds and memories. It's not worth risking the health of your mind to recall them. It's possible the veil will lift naturally, given time and experience. There's no need to force it."

"Unless... you feel there is a pressing need," Moarn said shrewdly, folding his arms. "What prompted you to seek me out in the first place?"

Trent faltered for a moment, swallowing. "A... dream. About Ma-- Lady Maeve."

Moarn peered at him. "What about? And how vivid was it?"

The feline opened his mouth to speak- only to find he didn't want to answer.

The reptile sighed and shook his head before giving him a sad look. "This is clearly something that haunts you and that you are reluctant to discuss. I don't wish to hurt anybody with my skills; if that means denying you further plunges into your mind to prevent injury, then I will gladly deny you. Please understand that, Knight Trent."

The feline looked away, a sour feeling in his stomach. "I... understand, Master Moarn," he sighed. After a few seconds he looked back up. "Will this really fade over time?" he asked. "Is there no other way to clear it?"

"It's difficult to say," Moarn told him honestly, putting a claw on the younger man's shoulder. "Sith memory modification can either rend the memory from one's mind, or conceal it. Only the one who placed the veil would know how to lift it. In my studies as a Jedi, I learned that such techniques would often involve triggers linked to emotions or senses; they can be as innocuous as a smell or taste, or as precise as uttering an exact phrase. Without breaching that veil, I can only assume that if there is a trigger, it is linked to your personal emotions concerning those memories. That, unfortunately, is all I can offer as guidance."

The feline nodded dully, looking away. "Thank you again for your time, Master Moarn. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this, I just..."

"There is no sin in searching for answers, lad," Moarn offered kindly. "This is just one of those times where you must be content with not knowing them." He squeezed Trent's shoulder. "As per Master Skywalker's instructions, you should continue to train lightly and relax. It will still be some time before you're cleared for work."

"I recommend half-hour meditation sessions in the morning," Cilghal added. "An hour if you have any more dreams about this Sith character, spent focusing on what you experienced. It may help you recall what you've lost. And if you've any trouble sleeping in the future, let me know and I'll prescribe you something safe."

"Thank you, Master Cilghal," Trent replied. Both she and Moarn bowed before moving to the hatch, leaving him alone with the Trianii female. The young woman had stayed behind to access the checkup room's computer, probably to log in Trent's visit. She looked up and flashed him a warm, supportive smile that he was able to match.

"I'm sure they're both right," she offered. "If nothing else, it's worth taking comfort knowing the memories are still there. If you're lucky, they may be pleasant ones."

"You think so?" Trent asked curiously. "With a Sith adept?"

Syrra shrugged. "It's possible. My... fiancee and I are currently housing a couple of former Sith defectors. My perception of them both has changed drastically- we've since become very close friends. I've come to understand that not everyone who walks the path of darkness is a monster, just misled or enslaved by their past or their choices." She cocked her head. "This 'Meave' you mentioned- do you remember her as your enemy?"

Trent stared at the Trianii for a few moments before shrugging. "Honestly... I don't know. When I think about her, I don't recall her as I would an enemy. It's... complicated."

"That may be a positive," the Trianii replied. "Were she an enemy, you might have unconsciously said so without a second thought. If your feelings about her are complicated, your hidden past could mean anything- maybe even love."

Trent frowned. "Love? With a Sith adept?"

"I've learned a few things about love and the Force over the last six months, Knight Trent," Syrra said evenly as she headed to the hatch. "And it can be _very_complicated. But I also learned that it comes in many forms- and no matter what it's form, it's worth safeguarding."

The hatch opened and she gave him a bow before walking out, leaving the feline to his thoughts.

It was a day later when he decided to make his move.

Much of the Great Temple had been refurbished by the Rebel Alliance to act as a military base, and although it now served as a place of Jedi study, the need for starfighters and vehicle repair remained. Half the first level of the main hangar was filled with X-wings and Y-wings, with a number of light and medium transports of ancient and modern design accompanying them. The only ship that seemed slightly out of place was a slightly beat-up A-wing nestled near the back of the interior runway, opposite the mouth of the hangar. As Trent made his way through the area, he spared the little starfighter a look and found himself hoping the vessel was ready to fly.

It was the perfect time to enact his plan, the feline Jedi Knight having decided to opt out of primary lessons in the Great Hall, when fewer people were around. Only a handful of technicians lingered as they worked to repair the interior of a nearby transport, paying no attention to the feline as he quickened his pace towards the interceptor. He was halfway there when a strong male voice rang out to his side.

"Need a hand with something, Knight?"

Trent stopped short and whipped around, his heart jumping slightly as his eyes darted around for the source of the voice. They finally fell upon the figure of a gray-pelted, black-haired wolfish figure, wearing a black captain's longcoat and wiping his paws with a slightly stained rag. A curious yet calm look was on his face as he stepped down the ramp.

"Uh, no, thank you," Trent replied, clearing his throat. "I was just... looking for Captain Lynch, I had some questions to ask him."

"He's out in the jungle, a couple of Padawans busted up one of the speeders while they were mapping the region up north," the wolf informed him, tossing the rag onto a nearby cargo crate. "He'll probably be out for the rest of the day. But if you need some assistance, I've got some time to spare."

"I appreciate it, mister...?"

"Kajex Surnahm," the wolf answered with a smile. "I'm captain of the Gold Rush," he explained, gesturing to the ship behind him and extending his paw.

"I'm Trent Heartnight," the feline replied, shaking with the older-looking wolf. "Good to meet you."

"Likewise," he smiled. "So, what did you need help with?"

The feline hesitated, wondering how much he should reveal to the Sentinel; but after a few moments he decided he still needed some directions. "Well, I'm still a couple of weeks away from being cleared for taking on tasks for the Praxeum," Trent started slowly. "But I figured I should give my ship a check all the same to be sure she's ready for launch. It's the interceptor at the back," he added, gesturing to his ship.

"The RZ-1?" Kajex noted, peering at the ship. "Yeah, the techs fixed that up weeks ago, I was wondering who it belonged to. Everything here has been fueled and clear for flight, so if you need to go on an impromptu flight missions she's fine to take out- just need to log it in when you're ready."

"Not right now, no," Trent told him, feeling internally relieved at the news. "But thanks for letting me know. While we're on the topic of flight, I wanted to ask if Yavin 4 had any navigational beacons in orbit."

"Around Yavin 4, no," Kajex shook his head. "The New Republic surveyed the area thoroughly, and there aren't any anomalies or spatial phenomenon to record or warn passersby about."

Trent frowned, folding his arms- Maeve had told him to search for the beacon. "Damn... I thought-- I mean... I was told there was a beacon out there, but if not..."

"There_is_ a beacon in the system, but it's orbiting Yavin Prime," Kajex continued. "That gasball is about the only 'danger' in the system just by virtue of its gravitational pull. Nothing _too_dangerous, a decent ship with a working engine can skirt the edge of its atmosphere just fine." The wolf chuckled, looking out of the hangar. "The way I hear it, Master Skywalker sometimes likes to jettison dangerous superweapons and Sith artifacts there so it'll destroy them."

"I see," Trent said distantly, hope renewing itself at the wold's words. "You, uh... wouldn't happen to have the coordinates, would you?"

Kajex blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I mean... I guess? But it'll be logged into your ship all the same, the techs would have made sure to update your nav-computer. You'd just need to run a search for it while you're airborn. Why do you ask?"

"It's..." Trent came up short, his mind racing for an answer. "I mean if you hadn't heard, I'd recently escaped Imperial captivity and I've been a little out of the loop," he said. "A couple of years, in fact, with a lot of memory modification. I was hoping I would at least be able to get back in the saddle, maybe get my mind of things through flying."

The wolf stared at him for a few moments, his expression slightly suspicious before shrugging. "Well, if you aren't cleared for it yet you'll have to have either Captain Lynch, Master Skywalker, or somebody else with the right access to give you clearance to launch. I mean, you're obviously not being imprisoned, but since your ship qualifies as a spaceworthy asset, we still need to keep tabs on it and log it if it's used for any reason. I can pass it on to Lynch if I see him."

"I would appreciate that, Captain," Trent said, giving him a short bow and extending his paw. "I'll come back a bit later, then. Thank you for your time."

"Glad to be of help, Knight Trent," the wolf replied, shaking his paw. "If you need anything else, feel free to give my ship a buzz."

The feline nodded and stepped back, waiting until the sound of Kajex's footfalls disappeared into the ship. Once he was sure he wouldn't be seen, he made a break for it.

What little he did remember of his captivity under Maeve, he could recall exhilarating moments involving him sprinting down the corridors of a Star Destroyer and into active hangars, dodging blast bolts and leaping into cockpits in the hopes that he would be able to flee. Each separate incident was muddled and blurry, but coherent enough that he knew he'd attempted at least a dozen escapes before succeeding. This was only a little different. In seconds he had sped from the middle of the hangar to the very back, stopping short at his ship and triggering the controls for the cockpit.

He'd just grabbed the edge of the ship when he felt a strong paw on his shoulder wrenching him back. Trent gasped as he was turned in place, his eyes falling on Captain Surnahm, the wolf giving him a hard glare.

"Alright, what's going on, Trent?" he pressed. "You thought I didn't notice you making a break for your ship like you were in a hurry?"

"Let me go!" Trent hissed, his hackles rising.

"Calm down, Knight," the wolf told him firmly as he reached for his belt and pulled out a comlink. "Whatever it is you're trying to do, you'll need to explain it to us first. Hold still, I'm going to call security so we can get this sorted out."

But panic was starting to overtake Trent as the wolf seized his upper arm in a powerful grip and brought the comlink up to his muzzle. The feline growled and channeled the Force into his free paw, letting out a snarl as he exploded the Force into a flash of light and sound in front of the wolf's face. Kajex dropped the comlink and reeled back for a moment, and in that time Trent felt the wolf's grip slacken; but in the next moment he'd clenched harder and brought his hot gaze back to the younger man, his golden eyes smoldering with heat.

"... Maybe I forgot to mention this, Trent- but I'm also a Jedi Sentinel," the wolf said in a cold voice. "You're skilled, but you're not going to stun _me_using the Force- I'm trained against it."

Trent swallowed, but glared back. "Alright... but are you trained against this?"

Both men seemed to react at the same time, with Kajex relinquishing his grip on Trent's arm just as the feline's free paw drew back and thrust out. Perhaps hoping he could catch the feline's wrist, the wolf let out a yelp as he was propelled into the air, a fraction of a second to slow to prevent being launched by the feline's telekinesis. The blast was powerful enough that the wolf barreled through a stack of empty cargo containers, the equipment tumbling over him.

Trent winced at having to harm the Sentinel, but turned his attention back to the A-wing- it was too much to hope for that their scuffle had gone unnoticed. Indeed, as he climbed into the cockpit he saw several technicians at the other end of the hangar looking in his direction; closer still, a white-pelted wolf had exited the _Gold Rush_and was running towards Trent's ship. Knowing he had only a few moments, he triggered the ship's ignition and skipped its warm-up, hoping desperately he would have enough time to get clear. The white wolf was nearly halfway to him when the repulsors kicked in, suspending the ship in the air. His hand was on the throttle and about to tug it backwards when a heavy thump hit the side of his ship and unbalanced it slightly. Trent felt the blood drain from his face as he saw the Sentinel standing on the side of his ship.

"Cut your engines and put her down, Trent!" Kajex barked, his paw going for the cockpit controls- but Trent was a hair faster, slapping the interior controls and code-locking the canopy in place. The feline grit his teeth and yanked the throttle back, a burst of energy exploding behind the ship and launching them straight ahead, half-expecting Kajex to fall off. Instead, he found himself gaping as the wolf grabbed at the ship's hull, finding a handhold on one of the tow-cable mounts.

What happened next was something Trent had not expected- with his free paw, the Sentinel reached out and pressed his palm against the hull, a burst of purplish-blue energy erupting from the spot. Several warning chimes rang through the ship, citing a spike in the ship's energy drain- somehow, the wolf was using the Force to disrupt his ship's systems, hoping to disable the vessel before it could get clear. A growl rolled through his throat as he saw the hangar exit fast approaching. With a deep breath he spun the ship along its axis, hoping to keep steady as the Sentinel clung tight. The ship spun cleanly, rotating in a perfect roll as it slid through the hangar opening gracefully out onto the exterior tarmac. The moment the sky was above his canopy he wrenched his flightstick upwards, glancing to the side just in time to see the Sentinel lose his grip and slide off the hull and onto the ground some twenty feet below. A jolt of panic zapped through his spine as he saw the tall jungle trees still obscuring his view, and for a moment he thought would collide-

Relief coursed through him as he pitched his ship upwards into the sky.

I'm coming for you, Maeve.

Back on the ground, Kajex kept his eyes on the fleeing vessel, panting slightly for a few seconds before grunting and turning back. A twenty-foot fall was barely a threat for a trained Jedi, though he suspected Trent had performed the dangerous stunt so low to the ground to ensure the wolf would avoid as much injury as possible. Despite his body still aching from the crates having fallen on him, he started sprinting for the hangar- there were bigger issues at hand.

"Kajex, are you alright?!" the white wolf shouted, stopping short as Kajex reached him just inside.

"I'm fine, Locke!" Kajex told him quickly. "We need to inform security, we have an unauthorized launch!"

"I'll get the _Gold Rush_warmed up while you grab a few pilots to man some Y-wings!" Locke told him. "Do you know where he's heading?"

"I have a pretty good idea," the wolf muttered.

In the few minutes Trent had to himself while setting a course for the beacon and allowing the ship to fly to it, he could not help reflecting how utterly stupid everything seemed- not least of which what he had just done and why. He had defied the Jedi Order by launching his ship without authorization; had attacked and potentially injured a fellow Jedi in the process; had blown the trust of everyone who had welcomed him back to the Praxeum with open arms to go on a trip to hunt down a navigational beacon, all due to the pleas of an active Sith sorceress who had stolen his memories and would likely be setting a trap. Everything in his rational mind screamed at him that he was being a fool, to turn back to Yavin 4 and work to regain everyone's trust, to stop obsessing over lost memories that might later resurface.

And yet, as he neared the navigational beacon, a smaller, yet stronger part of him knew that what he was doing was for the best.

The onboard guidance systems alerted Trent's nav computer with a sharp beep, a readout of the object flashing on the screen. It lingered for only a moment before the image flickered out and was replaced with a recorded video feed of what looked like a cheap motel room. A frown creased Trent's brow as he stared; he'd heard of slicers sneaking messages or coded data into navigational beacons, but had never seen one employed by the Imperial Remnant or their Sith allies. At the bottom of the screen was a flashing diode, preceded by red-lettered text:

CODED INFORMATION DETECTED - PASSWORD REQUIRED - 1 ATTEMPT REMAINING

The feline sighed, knowing that a Jedi response team was perhaps only minutes away; with a silent curse at his damnable luck he started wracking his brains for a password, forcing himself to remain calm as he tried to recall what Maeve had told him.

It will be... the name you wanted to give me.

It was the only thing she had said that made any reference to the password itself, yet Trent found himself completely lost by the hint. Any normal person would have referred to a Sith as a monster, or deceiver, or murderer, but he could not imagine wanting to call Maeve any of those things. A pang of guilt tore through him as he realized he was only thinking of her negatively, though he could not understand why this would trouble him so. He leaned back in his seat, sighing; Maeve might be Sith, but even now, after prompting him to cause so much trouble all to be led into what was almost certainly a trap, he could not see her as an enemy. Against all rationale, it was completely unreasonable- at least, until another, more recent voice replayed through his mind.

If your feelings about her are complicated, your hidden past could mean anything- maybe even love.

For nearly a minute, despite the ticking of time, he found himself frozen in place. It seemed almost impossible, insane- only a fool would think it made any sense. But when he finally managed to move, it was to move his paws along the console of his keyboard until he had spelled out a full name.

"Maeve... Heartnight..."

His index finger hovered above the keyboard, hesitating. However insane it seemed, it felt... right. Yet his finger remained in place; if he was wrong, that would be it- he would never see her again. It was a thought should have pleased him, and yet he found himself dreading such an outcome. Hoping against all reason, he pressed in the key, his heart falling as the screen did not respond. But doubt and confusion washed away, his heart skipping a beat, when the face of a teal-and-white pelted Sergal appeared in the feed.

The young woman swallowed, taking a deep breath and smiling at the holocam. "Well... hello Trent. It's me, Maeve. I mean... you know me as Lady Maeve. If you're hearing this, I'm glad you came. This recording will only play once- I... I hope it's you."

She paused, her smile failing for a moment. "You might not remember what we were, beyond enemies. I mean... I guess that's all you remembered me as. You told me to hide as much as possible, including our past together. And even though it tore me up inside, I did as you asked. At the time, it was the only way we could be together."

A tear trickled down her face. "I know. It doesn't make sense to you right now. But I hoped that someday we'd find a way to live our lives free of the Sith and Jedi. I know you were proud of your service to the light, but even you knew that it might require you to give up some of your freedom; and that my service to darkness might mean someone would come after us- if not Jedi, then Sith. This... might be our only chance."

"To do what?" Trent muttered, confused and sad. Seeing Maeve weeping openly troubled him deeply, stirring emotions of guilt and longing for her. "Why now?"

"My deception was discovered," she continued, wiping her eyes and stepping back. Trent's eyes widened as he saw her full body, clothed in a simple gray tunic and cloak. She was much as he had remembered her being.

Except for the swell in her belly.

"You escaped the day after I found out," she choked out, hiding her face in shame. "I-it should h-have been impossible, but... I swear I was going to tell you. I-I don't blame you... if you'd give up on me for hiding our relationship. But please... don't forsake our child." She let out a sob, placing a paw on the life growing within her. "I'm... taking r-refuge on an abandoned Republic base, grid coordinates K-20; this t-transmission will upload the c-coordinates to your nav-computer. It's c-called Polis Massa, and w-with the supplies I brought should serve for a f-few weeks. B-but I don't have much time. A Sith marauder from the Circle of Syn has been tracking me, and..." she trailed off, taking a deep breath and calming herself, "... I know he'll find me soon."

By now, the feline's heart was racing, his eyes filled with tears. This was all impossible, insane, as he had suspected. And yet, deep in his heart, he knew all of it was true.

"I won't lie to you, my love... it's dangerous. But even if you don't come," she whimpered, seeming to calm down, "I still owe you everything. Despite hiding your memories, your never ceased to love me. So... I will give you back those memories if it helps you find us." She managed a trembling smile. "The trigger to unlock them... is my answer to your question."

Trent swallowed. "What... question?" he said with a quivering voice.

"Trent Heartnight... yes. I will marry you."

It felt like a thermal detonator had exploded in his head. All at once, a burst of color, sounded, sensations and emotions swirled between his temples, blocking his vision as what felt like years of life channeled into his brain. What had once been hazy and murky patches in his memories were washed away in a matter of moments, culminating in a hot surge sliding down his spine. He writhed in his seat and cried out, paws outstretched and fingers flexing as hot tears of grief, regret, happiness and joy poured down his face.

All at once, the flow stopped, leaving the feline wet-faced with anguish and panting for breath, leaning over his console and staring at Maeve. He remembered it all- the duels they'd had, the wild and exhilarated smile as she enjoy meeting in combat each time, the growing respect, the inward desire to keep meeting her, to never capture her. He remembered a stalemate in the fight, being disarmed with a kiss, their first night of intimacy. He remembered being cornered by the Imperial Remnant, Maeve stepping in and claiming him as her prisoner, and a fake interrogation where Trent told her to hide his memories so they could remain together safely. And he now remembered, after a night of heartfelt, passionate lovemaking, the rush in the Force he had felt; the moment they both realized he had conceived a child in her, and the minutes thereafter, before she hid that memory away.

"I love you, Trent," the recording told him.

"I... love you too, Maeve," he said quietly, wiping his face. "And... I'm coming for you."

The recording ceased, leaving him alone.