FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Coming up on the beacon, Sentinel."

Kajex Surnahm looked up from his console and out the cockpit. The bright red gas giant Yavin took up more than half the view outside, with massive swirling vapors moving at high speed through the atmosphere. It was only because of the movement of these vapors that the wolf could barely make out a stationary spot in the distance, separate from the energetic backdrop. His eyes narrowed and he shot a glance to Syrra, who was staring ahead.

"Any idea what he's doing?" he asked.

She shook her head, sighing. "I wish I knew. Master Moarn wasn't able to retrieve his memories. I can only assume something might have triggered them and prompted him to come back here. It's the only thing I can think of that might make him do something so brash."

Kajex nodded, then turned his chair behind him. Seated at the communications terminal was his brother, Locke. "Pin down his location and open a channel. Hopefully we can talk some sense into him before he does something stupid." The white wolf nodded and set the work while Kajex turned back to his flight yoke. "Knights, are you still with us?"

"We're with you, Sentinel," came the reply, the Sentinel glancing at his sensors at the three blips tailing him; a trio of Y-wings were flanking them. "Disabling run only, folks, we don't want to hurt our fellow knight or his ship. We already have him on our sensors, he's still stationary. On your orders, Sentinel."

"I have him on our sensors too. Let's try to talk to him first," Syrra interjected, giving the wolf a hopeful look. "If he's open to discussion we might be able to get him to come peacefully. And if he needs help, we might be able to give it to him."

"Channel open, Kajex," Locke said from behind, frowning at his console. "Looks like he was already set to receive transmissions, but it doesn't look like there's been anything on any frequency. He must have gotten a direct communication."

The wolf's eyes narrowed as he managed to spot the A-wing visually, floating next to the beacon. "He specifically said he was looking for a beacon, but I told him any info it might have would already have been logged into his ship's computer. Something must have been in that beacon to make him come here." He shook his head. "I'm with Syrra, we should at least try to reason with him. Patch me through, Locke."

"One second... alright, you're in."

The gray wolf adopted his best authoritative voice. "Knight Heartnight, this is Sentinel Kajex Surnahm. Master Skywalker has requested your presence back on Yavin 4. We're willing to overlook everything that happened back on the surface, as long as you cooperate with us. Please respond."

Several seconds passed with no response or reaction, though as Kajex focused on the A-wing he thought he could feel a slight flare of alarm. The A-wing's engines flared and brightened, propelling the ship forward and accelerating away from the flight group; the wolf's face fell to a grimace and he yanked back his throttle, a burst of noise rocking through the ship as the Gold Rush gave pursuit. "He's making a break for it! Knights, shift your power from shields to engines!"

"You want us to--"

"He's not going to bite back!" Syrra told them. "He's trying to evade us long enough to jump to hyperspace, he's not going to waste time trading shots with heavy-armored fighters and a transport!" She switched frequencies, addressing the escaping knight. "Trent, please, you need to stop this! I'm not going to pretend we know what you're going through, but you need help! We can help you!"

"Syrra?" a voice finally responded. A few moments of pause. "No, I can't let you follow me!" he said firmly. His ship swung around and darted between two firing Y-wings. "I know where I need to go and what I need to do, I can't let you stop me!"

"Tell us what you're doing and we can help you!" Syrra pressed. "Is... is it about Maeve, the woman you talked about? Is she in danger?"

"I... I remember everything now," the feline said over the channel, his voice cracking slightly. "I escaped her captivity, but being in captivity and hiding my memories was always our plan- I _never_should have left her in the first place! I... I can't let you follow me, I can't put her at risk! And I can't stay with the Jedi anymore!"

"Trent, I'll be the first to tell you that Jedi aren't perfect," Kajex said firmly. "We've screwed up a lot in the past. But if this Maeve is so important to you that you need her alive, I swear on the graves of my fathers we will help you however we can. You need to trust us."

"I know you mean well, Sentinel," Trent said, his ship rolling out of the way of another barrage of ion fire before swinging around to face the transport, piloting his ship directly in their direction. "That's why you can't follow me where I'm going. Nobody else should be put in danger for my mistakes."

"That's an offensive maneuver. Is he powering up his weapons?" Kajex asked warily.

"No, but I can't figure out his ship readings- he's powering up something," Syrra told him, frowning at the ship.

No sooner than she had said it when the consoles started beeping out a warning. Kajex's eyes widened as their sensor readout started to distort and flicker, the blips on his screen flickering on and off. The lock they had acquired on Trent's A-wing vanished, along with all the data their computers had logged. "Dammit, he's jamming our sensors, he's about to jump! You guys need to tag him, now!"

He watched as all three Y-wings, which had been struggling to keep up with Trent's maneuvers, converged towards the agile ship as it darted between their ion blasts. Two shots managed to glance off the interceptor's hull, doing little more than sapping the vessel's shields shortly before it flitted away relatively unscathed, screaming towards the Gold Rush at top speed. Kajex swore as he dipped the vessel, the A-wing zipping overhead.

"Reacquire the lock!" Kajex shouted, reducing his speed and trying to swing the ship around, but before he could begin his arc, Trent spoke again.

"For what it's worth, Syrra, you were right; love is worth safeguarding, no matter what form it takes. Wish me luck. And may the Force be with you and your fiancee."

"Wait!"

Kajex had just finished his arc, yanking the throttle back to give chase to the A-wing, but it was all for nothing; in the next half-second, Trent's starfighter distorted and lengthened, before disappearing in a flash as he made the jump the lightspeed, leaving the flight group behind. The wolf tensed up, switching he frequency back to the Y-wings that had accompanied them. "Knight Tay, tell me you logged his hyperspace vector!"

"I'm sorry, Sentinel," a quiet voice told him. "He was out of range and scrambling all of us. He must have had an offensive sensor jammer- standard equipment for an A-wing that wants to high-tail it in a hurry."

The wolf groaned, the tension in his muscles disappearing as he set the throttle to neutral and slid back in his seat. "Damn... we lost him."

Syrra sighed, bowing her head. "We tried to reason with him. He was just too good a pilot with a fast ship- and he was dead set on leaving us behind. I just wish we knew who this 'Maeve' was, and why Trent was adamant on getting back to her again. It almost sounded like he was going back to someone he loved."

"Maeve?" Locke repeated from behind them, arching an eyebrow. "Lady Maeve?"

Kajex spun his seat around and faced his sibling. "You know who Syrra is talking about?"

"Only by reputation," the white wolf admitted. "I think I've met her only once or twice."

"What do you know about her?" Syrra pressed.

"I know she's not a member of the Circle of Syn, for one," he told them. "She was one of many who rejected the Circle and was more content to keep an eye on her fragment of the Imperial Remnant. I also know she had a falling out with her master because of it. Last I heard, the Circle had sent allied Dark Jedi to take her and a number of others out; where Lady Maeve is concerned, I believe the rumor was that a praxeum Jedi had intervened unknowingly." He shrugged. "From what little I understand about this exchange, I'd wager a few chits that Jedi might have been Trent."

"Saving her life..." Kajex mused. "Think maybe he and Maeve saved each other and formed a bond, like we did?"

"I hope it's as positive as that, but we might never know," Locke sighed. "Not unless he comes back. He said he couldn't stay with the Jedi anymore. Hopefully that doesn't mean he's fallen to the dark side."

Kajex shook his head. "He seemed like he was feeling fear, but if he had fallen, he would have attacked us. Either way, there's nothing more we can do, everyone. For better or worse, he has to deal with his problems on his own, now. Return to the Great Temple, and compile your reports for Master Skywalker. Locke, you too- he deserves to know what's happened."

"Agreed, I'll get started using your consoles," the white wolf nodded.

"May the Force be with you, Trent," Syrra said sadly. "I hope you find the love you sought."

If there was one downside to A-wing starfighters, aside from their frail hulls and lack of armaments for heavy engagements, it was that the cockpits were cramped and difficult to move in once seated. As a Jedi, Trent was more than capable of meditating to a point where the discomfort was negligible; but that did nothing to accelerate his journey to Maeve's hiding spot, which was located near the unknown regions- on the other side of the known galaxy. Twice, he was forced to cut his journey through hyperspace short, with one stop devoted to refueling and resupply. The only bright spot was that the route he had taken, the Hydian Way, only demanded a forty-eight hour trip- which meant by the time his ship had finished its final jump through hyperspace, he was already well-rested.

He was initially underwhelmed upon first laying eyes on Polis Massa. It was little more than a tuber-shaped rock in the middle of a barely-threatening asteroid field, looking very much uninhabitable when he approached it. It was only the fact that he had picked up energy signatures that he didn't immediately consider returning to Yavin 4. But once he rounded the planet to its other side, he found what he was looking for- a small but well-constructed research outpost, some kilometer in length and width, dimly illuminated by dozens of lighting apertures surrounding it. No more than four separate buildings had been built deep into the malformed planetoid, connected by interconnected hallways, though a brief scan of the facility suggested there were underground methods of traversal as well. What drew his attention the most, however, was the fact that only one of the buildings was fully illuminated; and though he could not see Maeve, he was almost certain he could feel life residing within it.

Certain that this was where he needed to be he started to look for a place to land, noting with dismay that there was no atmosphere on the surface. Before long, however, he spotted two hangar bays, making a beeline for the smaller bay and noticing its mag-con field was still up. As an afterthought he started circling the station, fitting his headset on and sending out a hailing signal, hoping he could contact Maeve and have her guide him in- or to figure out if he was heading into a trap.

He was met with silence.

His brow creased as he regarded the facility, hesitant on rushing in. Deciding it was best to be certain, he waited five minutes before deciding that if Maeve was aware of the signal, she was keeping silent to remain as hidden as possible. Hoping desperately that he was not being led into a trap, he steeled himself and descended towards the minor landing bay. A minor hum passed through his hull as he phased through the mag-con field, the sound of his ship's repulsors echoing in the empty bay as he deployed his landing struts and touched down on the surface. Moments later he had powered down his ship and unsealed his cockpit, taking a deep breath and climbing out of the ship; once he'd slid off the right side of the hull, he popped open the ship's cargo hold and pulled out his backpack, slipping it on before looking around.

There was next to nothing in the hangar bay aside from a pair of empty-looking crates. Where he might have expected repair tools and other detritus was instead a bare wall with wiring and circuitry poking out of it. Blaster marks from what appeared to be decades prior stained parts of the wall, yet no bodies remained. As he drew his lightsaber from his hip and strode towards the nearest hatch, the feline wondered how long the facility had been abandoned.

"Alright, Maeve," he muttered, looking around the dimly-lit corridor and stepping forward. "Where are you?"

Making every attempt to ensure he was moving quickly, quietly, and cautiously, the feline Jedi began to make his way into the facility. He had no need for a torch, his natural night-sight give him a clear view in the darkened and dimly-lit areas of the facility; first through was appeared to be an old medical bay, and then a series of offices and empty living spaces. He found the generator quickly enough, working at at its most meager output. What little he could tell from the detritus that remained, as well as old directories that were built into the walls, the installation appeared to be an excavation center, mining through the stone to uncover old artifacts. He found himself wondering if perhaps Maeve had chosen this place to hide given how remote the location had been, perhaps running the generator lightly to avoid detection; though he also hoped that the place was still safe for an expectant mother on the run.

His ears twitched at the heavy creaking echoing throughout the area, bespeaking of its lack of use and age; though as Trent continued deeper he was certain not every sound he emanated solely from the installation. A glow of light at the other end of the hallway drew his attention and he immediately moved for it, spotting a hatch off to the right; a viewport in the middle of the door gave off light from the other side. He had only just reached the hatch when he heard a muffled sound from the other side- that of blasterfire, from several weapons. The feline's eyes widened and he punched the controls, stepping into the room with his lightsaber out and nerves steeled.

"Wha-- we've got another one here!" a voice to his left shouted- an Imperial stormtrooper was turning around and taking aim. "Take him out!"

But Trent was too fast, diving and rolling beneath the wide blaster shot and coming up with his weapon activated, cutting through the soldier's chest with a blade of brilliant blue. A pulse in the Force caused him to lean back just in time to avoid another shot; he spun and threw his paw out, tossing another soldier into the wall with neck-breaking impact. He looked around quickly, assessing what he could; he seemed to be in some manner of archaeological research center, with upturned tables and equipment strewn about; four more stormtroopers were in the room with him, all of them still surprised at the newcomer. Ahead, Trent was certain he could feel the presence of a fifth person, but he ducked and rolled under another barrage, deciding to deal with the most dangerous problems first. The nearest fired and Trent blocked, angling the shot and sending it back into the soldier's left eyehole, killing him instantly. With a vault, Trent was over a table, deflecting shots as he approached another two troopers.

One scored a glancing hit against the feline's shoulder, cutting a thin line through his fur, but he did not falter, darting between the two and cutting wide; they fell with a pair of strangled cries, crumpling to the floor. A third began to fire wildly, forcing Trent to take cover behind a heavy crate. It proved an ineffective barrier as the trooper switched firing modes and charged up his shot- the bolt exploded with three times the force, erupting out the other end and knocking Trent's lightsaber out of his paw. With a curse, the feline thrust his paw out and sent the crate flying, the trooper letting out a brief scream before he was crushed underneath the mostly-intact heavy container.

Before Trent could back up to his feet, a boot slammed into his stomach and sent him rolling. Coughing with pain he tried to get back up, only to have that same boot kick him in the chest and pin him down. A stormtrooper aimed his rifle at his head.

"Don't move, Jedi scum!"

The feline growled, searching for his lightsaber, but it was nowhere to be found. He could see the twitch in the trooper's finger, eager to blow his head off, and he knew he had perhaps only seconds before the trooper figured it would be better to kill him. Knowing his options were slim, he was half a second away from reaching out and grabbing the barrel, when a shot rang out from the other side of the room and exploded against the side of the trooper's helmet- he fell to the side, dead.

Breathing hard, Trent got back to his knees, just in time to see his savior running to him wearing her black robes, holding a blaster pistol in one hand.

"Trent!"

His heart leapt with joy at the sound of her voice, and he caught her as she slid across the floor and embraced him. "Maeve! By the Force, I got here just in time," he said, relief nearly driving him to tears.

"You did!" she agreed, smiling through her tears as she nuzzled him. "I... I was afraid you wouldn't come... even if you had gotten my message, I thought... I thought that you would--"

"Maeve, I meant it the hundreds of times I said it before," the feline cut her off, squeezing her tight. "I love you. If you'll still have me, I'll spend the rest of my life with you."

The Sergal laughed and sniffled, nodding. "I know. I said I would marry you and I will, Trent... as soon as we find your lightsaber and get out of here," she added, wiping her face and helping him back up. "We can't stay here, the Remnant knew about this place and sent an assassin."

"How did they find you?"

"The Rebel Alliance used it in the past, I figured out," she sighed. "One of the places they sent the first Death Star's plans, years ago. It had to be a high-level operation, it's the only way my access was restricted when I pulled up records for it." She looked around. "I was hoping to stay here for a few more months, before the Remnant arrived, but even with the medical facility this doesn't seem like a good place to give birth to a baby."

"Do you still have your ship?" Trent asked. "I was only able to come in my A-wing, it won't fit the two-- er... three of us," he amended himself, noticing his mate's baby bump beneath her robes.

"My ship can hold four, but it's been cut off," she said, swallowing. "They sent a Sith Assassin after me, Lord Daraume- he was my former master, before I learned all I could from him and he became a part of the Circle of Syn. I tried to fight him off, but..." She stopped, putting her hand to her stomach with a pained look. "I couldn't risk our child. He was too much for me, and he managed to take my lightsaber in the duel."

Trent nodded, then gave her a determined look. "I'm going to get you out of here, Maeve. If I'm able to I'll try to best him and get us onto the ship, but if something should happen to me... I want you to save yourself; run to the secondary hangar and take my A-wing out of here."

"Trent..."

"No buts, Maeve," he said firmly. "Promise me you'll do that, if I should fall."

The Sergal winced, but nodded. "I promise."

The firefight had not gone unnoticed, it turned out. As the pair made their way to the main hangar they came across two patrols of stormtroopers, the first rushing to the research room where their comrades had been cut down, while the second were marching towards the secondary hangar; both times they had managed to hide out of sight. Hoping desperately that they would not destroy his ship, he led Maeve carefully to her ship, his inactive Jedi weapon in his paw. He peered through the lone viewport into the hangar, seeing the medium-sized transport sitting in the middle of the landing pad.

There wasn't a soul within; no guards to watch over the vessel. The feline frowned.

"How did they get in here? I only saw the two hangars," Trent recalled.

"There's a vehicle bay at the south-western part of the station," Maeve told him. "It's big enough for a troop transport to fit inside. Do you see Daraume?"

He peered inside again, taking care to be thorough, but shook his head. "He's not in there, it looks like. Maybe he went to search for us?" he suggested.

"Be careful," Maeve warned. "He's a Sith assassin, he can hide his presence in the Force- we wouldn't notice until after he's struck."

With a nod and a moment to bolster his nerves, he triggered the hatch and stepped inside, eyes darting around for movement. After a few seconds he motioned the Sergal to follow, the pair quietly and carefully making their way to the ship. Relief seeped into Trent as he neared the ship, confident they were going to make it out safely.

He did not sense the blast of Force energy until it was too late.

Without warning, he was lifted off his feet and tossed into the air, hitting the floor and sliding on his back several meters before rolling up to his feet with his lightsaber activated. Ahead, Maeve was looking back at him in fear and shock, before turning her gaze to the ship's ramp. Both of them gaped as the air around them seemed to ripple for a moment, before phasing into a black-cloaked figure. A bestial-looking Shistavanen, the lupine Sith assassin stood some seven feet tall, wearing black leather attire and hefting a long-handeled lightsaber in his right paw. His acid-green eyes lingered contemptuously at the feline Jedi, before leering at Maeve.

"I was certain if I waited here long enough, you would return," he rumbled angrily. "I admit I was not expecting you to have brought a Jedi whelp to aid you. Clearly, your treason runs deeper than we expected." He stepped forward, igniting his blade; Maeve raised her rifle and took a step back. "You will surrender yourself now and give the child to the Circle. Do not struggle. I can easily keep you alive long enough to give birth by removing your limbs."

"I'm not going back!" she shouted. "I've done enough evil and looked the other way for too long! And I'm not going to give my child to your cult!"

Daraume laughed, his voice reverberating against the walls. "I taught you everything you know, there is no secret to your swordplay, not to mention you lack your lightsaber still," he added, gesturing to the hilt still clipped to his belt. He then turned his eyes to Trent. "And if you believe this whelp will be enough to save you, then you may as well give up. I've seen the recordings of your duels with your lover- you held back for him. He will not make a difference."

She stepped back again and took aim, but before she could squeeze the trigger the assassin reached out and tore the weapon out of her hands with the Force, his weapon cutting through the air and cleanly separating it in to, before snarling and taking a massive lunge toward the now-unarmed Sergal. Maeve's eyes widened and she staggered back, tripping over a small container and falling the floor with a yelp. The wolf leapt into the air with his blade overhead.

Trent got to her first, leaping forward and standing over her in time to intercept the assassin's blade as it fell upon his with a tremendous crash. With a white hot glare at the larger opponent, he kicked out and landed his heel into Daraume's stomach, knocking him back. The advantage his, Trent advanced with swift cuts, jabbing at his defenses. The assassin backpedaled smoothly, angling his defense with precision. Trent swung; Daraume countered and smashed his blade against the blow, knocking the feline off balance. With a gasp and a duck, Trent rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the backswing taking his head off, the deadly hum barely passing over his ears.

Now it was Daraume's advantage, his footwork measured in long, inexorable strides as he slashed and battered Trent's guard relentlessly. Despite trying to fight back and find an opening the feline gave up ground, backing away from the assassin. Painful shocks lanced through his arms as he weathered the storm of blows. Another overhead swing and Trent sidestepped; he moved to strike, only for the wolf to lash his fist out and backhand the feline into a stack of crates, knocking them over.

Daraume gave a derisive chuff, approaching Trent as he struggled to get up. "This was your savior, Maeve? This was the one who bred you? My hopes for your child becoming the Circle's next apprentice may have been misplaced." He slashed at Trent, the feline rolling away in time, back on his feet again. Once again he charged in; and again, Daraume deflected his blows, laughing as the Jedi was driven back. "Perhaps after I've given birth, I'll simply kill the child and breed you myself- it will be an honor for you to carry an heir worthy of the dark side."

Trent glared at the wolf, putting power behind his strikes; this time, Daraume ceased his forward movement, eyes narrowed as the feline caught him in a saber lock.

"You stay the hell away from here you son of a bitch!" Trent snarled, rearing his head back and smashing his forehead into the wolf's face. Daraume roared, his muzzle coming back bloody, and the fight shifted into one of violence. Both Jedi and Sith poured their strength into the fight, their blades thundering in the hangar as they met. A veritable lightning storm raged between them, Trent as the sharp, earsplitting cracks of light; Daraume, the heavy, deafening boom. And as they fought, Trent could feel the toxic grasp of the dark side flowing through him; the fear of losing Maeve, the rage at the assassin for his threats. He would do anything to preserve her, he knew- even if it meant giving in to darkness.

But it was not enough.

The cost was too great, and fatigue set in; a swing too slow, and Daraume struck, knocking Trent off his feet and on to his back. He barely had enough time to block the assassin's slash, straining to keep it away.

"Trent,no!" Maeve shouted in fear.

"You've tasted the dark side, boy," the wolf growled, a violent hunger in his eyes. "You've felt the power it can give you, but you're heart isn't in it. You want me dead, but that's not enough- your love makes you weak."

"Maeve... you have to run!" he shouted, struggling to push back with what little strength he had. Every second, Daraume's blade got a centimeter closer. "Just go, get to my ship!"

"NO! I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!" she screamed.

Daraume grinned evilly. "Very well. I will gladly kill you before her eyes."

Trent groaned, concentrating deeply as he tried to channel as much energy as he could muster into resisting the push. The Sith's crimson blade was inches away from his nose when he felt something brush up against his knee. Confused, he nearly lost control, barely matching Daraume's strength as his eyes flicked down to see what it was. They widened as he saw it, dangling next to his knee.

Maeve's lightsaber.

With renewed vigor, the feline swung his arm to the side, reaching out with the Force and wrenching a cargo container towards them both. The wolf turned, releasing the saber lock and slashing through the crate expertly with a spin- giving Trent the distraction he needed. With a grunt, the feline dove past the assassin and snatched the Sergal's lightsaber from his hip, rolling back up to his feet and tossing the lightsaber to his mate.

The Sergal's eyes widened, but she reacted quickly, leaping into the air and catching the weapon cleanly before landing. With a snarl she activated her red blade and charged at Daraume, meeting him just as Trent reengaged the assassin. Within moments, the wolf was pushed back to the defensive, growling as Maeve moved and attacked with expert grace and skill. Trent could barely keep up in his state, his breathing ragged, but added his blade to the cacophony of rapid crashes as the trio of blades met, ensuring that his mate would not have to fight alone.

"We can do this!" Maeve shouted to Trent as he struggled to maintain the pace. "I need you, we're stronger together than apart!"

"If I must end you both, then so be it!" the wolf snarled. He wound up his strike slashing high and missing; Trent countered, slapping the blade away with his own and leaving the assassin open for Maeve- she swept her weapon upward, the tip searing through the wolf's right eye and drawing blood.

But despite his tremendous roar of rage, the assassin did not relent; he caught Maeve's next strike with a block and shoved her back, before swinging his hand out again and knocking Trent away, the blow powerful enough to send the feline slamming into the hull of the ship some several meters away. Enraged that her mate had been struck, Maeve charged in again- only for her war cry to be cut short as she suddenly stopped. Trent's eyes widened, a feeling of ice-cold fear stabbing through him as Daraume reached out with a claw-grip hand and lifted her off the ground by her neck, levitating her into the air as he used the Force to squeeze her windpipe. Immobilized and helpless, the savage wolf approached her.

"I've had enough!" he snarled, raising his blade. "If you will not give me that child alive, I will tear it from your womb dead!"

It was seeing Maeve having the life choked from her, utterly vulnerable and only feet away from death, that sparked a hidden reserve of strength in Trent in that moment. Without having to look for his lightsaber, he summoned the weapon to his hand, just as Daraume drew his back, aiming a stab towards the Sergal's stomach. With a snarl of exertion, the feline lunged and slashed, just as the wolf stabbed forward.

Another roar of rage rang out through the hangar, drowning out the thump of Daraume's forearm falling to the floor and the clatter of his lightsaber as it rolled away. Maeve fell to the floor, landing on her side as she gasped for air, Trent standing between her and the assassin with his weapon held at the ready. The enormous wolf staggered forward, but before he could get in close enough to grab the feline swung his boot out; Daraume toppled forward to his knees, avoiding falling on his face. He reached out against with his other hand, but Trent saw it coming, sidestepping and slashing again- the wolf howled as his own hand was removed.

Trent's ears were still ringing seconds after the howl had ended, the assassin drawing in ragged breaths as he regarded the Jedi with a murderous look. "Well... what are you waiting for, knight?" he spat. "Kill me. You heard what I said I'd do to your whore and her child- where's the rage that met held me back? Or will you still hold to your Jedi ways like a coward?"

It was a goad, and the feline knew it. With a deep breath he stilled his heart, slowing the adrenaline through his body as it relaxed. His eyes closed. "I'm not a Jedi. Not anymore. But I won't strike you down in anger."

Daraume sneered at him. "Weak."

His eyes opened again, gazing at the wolf dispassionately. "I'll strike you down out of necessity."

With a calm, horizontal cut, Daraume's head tumbled away, his lifeless body slumping to the floor.

"Trent," Maeve said from behind him. "You did it."

The feline turned to her, switching his weapon off and getting to his knees. "Are you hurt?" he asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine," she assured him, nuzzling his forehead. "You... you really pulled through for me."

"I had to," Trent said with a smile. "For you and our child."

The pair smiled at each other, leaning in at the same time. Their lips were half an inch from meeting when the silence was broken by a blaster bolt exploding against the ship.

"Okay, run now, kiss later!" Trent shouted, grabbing Maeve and pushing her into the ship, just in to time take shelter from the barrage of firepower erupting from the squad of stormtroopers. Even then they did not cease their assault, the vessel trembling from each bolt that slapped against the thick plating. Maeve staggered into the co-pilot's seat, flicking several switches.

"I'm still a bit winded, can you fly a--"

"I can fly anything with a stick and a nav-computer!" Trent told her, jumping into the pilot's chair and punching the console.

A soft boom of energy encapsulated the ship, sheathing it in its deflectors; a second boom followed as its repulsors came to life and lifted the ship off the ground. Despite pouring on as much blasterfire as possible the stormtrooper's efforts were for nothing, barely registering as ripples against the ship's shield readouts. In moments, the vessel was propelled into the air, bursting through the hangar's mag-con field and hurtling into the stars above, leaving Polis Massa behind.

"Anything on the sensors?" Trent asked as he guided the ship through the cluster of asteroids.

"Nothing, just get us clear of the field and I can set us a course to somewhere safe," she told him, looking tense.

In minutes he had gotten clear of the field, a wide expanse of empty space ahead of them. Maeve began to key in hyperspace coordinates, but the feline turned his eyes to the sensors, heart still hammering; even as isolated as the little rock had been, he had expected there to be some manner of squadron ready to assist at a moment's notice. Even as the Sergal yanked back the handle that sent them careening into hyperspace, Trent did not relax.

Not until he felt Maeve's hand touch his. He looked up to see her calm eyes and smiling face.

"It's okay," she told him. "It was a silent op, they wouldn't be so stupid as to send an entire fleet just for me."

The feline swallowed. "I would, if it would keep you safe."

"You wouldn't need to," she said quietly. "You're all I ever needed."

All tension seemed to melt away as he slid out of his seat and onto his knees; Maeve followed at the same time and the two kissed deeply, a swell of emotions swirling between and around them both. It was like a long-forgotten ache being massaged away, relief and joy that everything was right again.

"By the Force, I missed you," Maeve whispered as they broke off, the Sergal crying into his shoulder. "There was a time I was worried you would leave me to die."

"I didn't know what to do," Trent admitted, holding her close. "I tried to get the Jedi to reveal my memories, but the couldn't do anything. If it hadn't been for Syrra..."

"Who?"

"A Jedi healer at the Praxeum," he explained. "She suggested maybe my memories were linked to love. It seemed crazy, but... my heart seemed to agree. If I hadn't listened to her, I might have been too late, or might never have come at all. I'm glad I did."

The Sergal nuzzled. "If... if you'd prefer us both going back to your Jedi Order..."

But he shook his head. "No. I'm proud to have served with them, but it's not the life I want to live anymore. We're both free, now; I'd prefer to spend my life with you, quietly."

"No arguments from me," the Sergal laughed, wiping her eyes. "I set a course for the Unknown Regions. It's not well-mapped, but it's teeming with life and civilization- and it's free from Republic and Imperial influence, run by the Empire of the Hand."

Trent tensed. "Another Empire?"

"Created by Thrawn," she elaborated. "It's not the tyranny of Palpatine's Empire, or the Remnant. Our child will be safe there, and so will we." She held his paws. "You trust me, right?"

"Like you even need to ask," he grinned. "I'm with you- both of you," he said, looking down at her stomach. An urge filled him and he reached out hesitantly. "Can... Can I...?"

She smiled and nodded, leaning back, purring as he pressed his paw against her belly. The flow of the Force, of life, filled all three at once. Once satisfied, Maeve took him by the wrist and guided him to the back, to a soft, comfortable bed.

And as the ship continued to sail through hyperspace, they shared in their love, again and again.

Five Years Later

"Refueling is done, boss," a voice told him over Kajex's headset.

The wolf's ears twitched as he looked up from the vegetable stand, holding a paw up to the grocer before responding. "Thanks for covering that, Rook," the wolf told her appreciatively. "Everyone else got their things done?"

"They loaded the artifact onto the Gold Rush, they're just doing a bit of shopping now," the otter told him over the comm. "Syrra finished her lecture, so it's just us relaxing for now. Gotta say, I'm kinda of impressed the Empire of the Hand has kept this place running smoothly."

"I know," the wolf said, stiffening slightly as he watched a patrol of stormtroopers walk by; the leader glanced in his direction and nodded with a pleasant greeting before marching past. "It's weird to not have the boys in white shooting at me for once," he admitted with a relieved sigh- the old reflexes were hard to suppress, at times.

"How about you?"

"Just getting the last ingredient here," he told her.

"That's not what I meant. What'd you figure out?"

The wolf sighed. "I'll have to compile the report, but it looks like the people here are strong and capable." He paused, glancing at the grocer and choosing his words carefully. "But I do I keep hearing the rumors, be prudii akaan'ade. If I didn't owe Luke a favor for cutting me off when we needed it, I'd just as soon hop back onto the ship and run to the other side of the galaxy, before it breaks out. We've had enough wars already."

"Comin' from a Mando, I have to agree," the otter sighed. "Ah well, least it's just this one mission, then we get to go back home. Dinner's on you, too- so tonight's gonna be awesome. Get back to us safe, boss."

"Will do," the wolf chuckled. "I'll see you in a bit, kiddo." He returned his attention to the grocer. "How much for these tubers?"

"Ten for ten," the Chiss told him.

"Do you accept New Republic dataries?" the wolf asked hopefully.

"At a nine-ten ratio."

It was a very reasonable conversion, very little extra. "Good enough," the wolf grinned, fishing enough chits from his wallet to pay the grocer as he began to fill a small sack. He was about to reach out and hand them over when he felt an urgent tugging at his tail. The wolf yipped and turned around to see who it was, confused when he found the space before him empty- until he looked down, his eyes falling on a young, furry child.

She was covered head in a fluffy-looking black and white fur, her features an unusual cross of a shark and wolf's, with inquisitive, feline-looking eyes of silver, wearing a simple tunic and pants. Her thick tail was wagging side to side as she smiled up at him. "Watcha makin', mister?"

The wolf blinked, then smiled back. "Fried tubers and steak, for my family."

"If you're gonna make tubers, you need to have them with some spice!" the child insisted. "Mama always makes ours with some Kikreet spice from the grocer, it's always good!"

The wolf chuckled and glanced at the grocer. "Do you have any for sale?"

The Chiss nodded and plucked a bottle out from off to the side. "Fourteen credits is your total." The wolf nodded and pulled out a few extra chits, handing it over; the Chiss smiled to the child. "Appreciate the business, both of you."

"Just put lots of it after you slice them up," the child told him as he put the food into his satchel, "and then fry them until they're brown and red- that's how mama does it!"

"Oh? And who might she be?"

She nearly spoke before glancing to the side and spotting an adult of her species, teal-pelted with a kindly-looking face. "That's her, her name is Maeve! Hi mama!"

The older female grinned down at the little girl. "Dalia, I was looking for you. Have you been sharing my cooking secrets again?" she asked, picking up the ball of fluff and hugging her. "You silly kitten." She looked to the wolf, giving him a sheepish smile and holding out her hand. "I'm sorry about that, she loves meeting new people. I hope she isn't bothering you."

"Not at all," the wolf assured her, shaking her hand with a gloved paw. "I could always use a little extra cooking instruction these days, what with a pack of my own to feed." He paused, repeating the name in his head before speaking it out loud. "Maeve... I feel like I've heard that name before."

"Maeve, did you find her?" a voice called out some several meters behind Kajex.

"She's over here, chatting up new people again," she told him.

"Oh, good. Just as long as she's not finding... any... trouble..." the voice said, trailing off.

Kajex stared at the figure, a black-and-white pelted feline in commoner attire. The shock in his silver eye was immediately apparent as he stared back at the wolf. A moment of tension followed as the feline stood in front of the other two, his paw slowly creeping towards the slim cylinder at his side.

The wolf managed a smile. "Trent. It's been a while."

"You... remember me?"

"It's kind of hard to forget the face of a man who blasted me into a stack of cargo crates before escaping a Jedi temple," Kajex reasoned fairly.

"Why are you here?" Trent asked, his eyes narrowed. "Did you finally track me down after so long?"

"Not at all," the wolf assured him. "I just had some business to conduct here, and now I'm getting some food for my crew. I had no clue you were even here to begin with." He bowed to Maeve. "It's nice to meet you all. I'm Kajex. I used to be a Jedi, just like Trent."

"I... thank you, it's nice to meet you too," the woman said uncertainly. "You're being honest with us- you're not here to punish my mate, are you?"

"I have no intention of returning to the Jedi Order, Sentinel," the feline told him firmly. "I'm proud of my service to them, but I came here to live a life of peace, so if you are looking to convince me to come back--"

"Trent... relax," the wolf told him gently, holding up his paws. "I'm being honest, I'm just here to return a favor to Master Skywalker- that's all." He chuckled. "And I'm not even a part of the Jedi Order anymore, myself; not really, anyway. I've got my own thing going on in the Wild Space region, training people outside the New Republic."

The feline sighed, looking less anxious. "Alright. I'm sorry, it's just... the last time I saw you, I wasn't exactly soft about it. I apologize for... y'know... shoving you into the crates."

"It looks like you had your priorities," the wolf reasoned. "So, you're the Maeve he had to rescue? Syrra thought he might have been anxious to get back to you out of love and not hate. My brother even remembered meeting you a couple of times, so we always kinda hoped Trent's heart and motives were in the right place."

"He saved my life," Maeve told him, leaning in close to Trent. "And my child's life, too."

"I can understand that," Kajex nodded. "I'm glad he came to save you."

The feline gave him a guilty look. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting this. I didn't think any Jedi could understand what I was going through."

"Dad! We found you!"

The wolf jerked a bit in surprise, turning to the source of the words. A smile broke across his face as a pair of young Kanj'Isha twin pups scampered towards him, the Sentinel getting to one knee and catching both in a wide-armed, hug with a chuckle. The male twin was gold-pelted with brilliant blue eyes; the female, silver-pelted and gold-eyed, both with raven-black hair.

"Hey, what're you pups doing out here, so far from the Gold Rush?" Kajex chuffed, nuzzling them both.

"Mom finished teaching us, so our homework was to find you using the Force!" the female twin barked.

"We're also hungry!" the male twin whined. "You said it was only gonna take a few minutes!"

"A Jedi needs to learn patience, Kay'en," the wolf told him, tapping his little black nose with a finger. "Even if it's your dad's bomb-astral cooking. I just ran into an old friend, that's all," he explained, looking up to Trent; the feline was smiling at the scene.

"I guess I was wrong," the feline admitted.

The wolf nodded, then peered over the twins shoulders, spotting a pregnant-looking Trianii with blonde hair standing some distance away, her smile placid as she regarded the wolf lovingly.

"If there were ever a good reason to leave the Jedi behind," the wolf said, smiling back, "then family is the best reason."