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It started with a wave of pain, a cold feeling of fear and death, and the echo of the words coming from the clone commander's holoprojector.

"Execute Order 66."

The hairs on Culbra Krurr's neck stood on end as he fought to keep his breathing under control, a surge of adrenaline flowing through his veins as he got back up to his feet. Moments earlier the sensation exploded over him like a mid-air concussion blast, his legs buckling as he was knelt into Felucia's muddy ground. What felt like hundreds of screams pierced through his skull, a pain of heartbreak and agony in his chest, a tremendous feeling of loss and emptiness in his spirit. Now it was all he could do to stand back up, feeling as if the Force had torn through his body.

But he managed to do it all the same, the black-furred Shistivaanen groaning as he got back on unsteady feet, his lightsaber still in his paw. He found stability with his other hand, grabbing a nearby fungal stem and turning his attention back to his squad. A frown creased his brow as he noticed all ten of them staring back, saying nothing.

The pause lingered, until he broke it. "That... was the chancellor's voice," he managed to pant. It was distorted, somehow strange... but he recognized it.

"It was," the commander acknowledged, raising his rifle. The clones behind him raised theirs at the same moment- all pointed at the weakened Jedi.

The feeling of dread overtook him. "What... is his order?" he asked, taking a step back.

The clone commander seemed to hesitate, his response tinged with apology. "I'm sorry. It's been an honor, sir."

An hour earlier

"Last report said he was sighted in this area," the commander said, scanning the jungle through a pair of macrobinoculars. "A squad from the Wolf Pack tried to pursue, but they lost him in the deeper parts of the jungle."

"And Master Tron went ahead?" Culbra asked, scanning the same horizon with his own set of binocs.

"He said he couldn't afford to allow a Dark Acolyte to escape, insisted that capturing him might be the key to ending this war." The commander lowered his binocs with a sigh. "My superiors have warned me that the way ahead is dangerous. We lost two squads previously trying to scout that way by what we think is a sarlaac pit."

Culbra frowned, turning to the commander. "How? Did they fall in during the middle of the night?"

"They might have run afoul of the locals, actually. Near as we can tell, the region is sacred to them. But they also didn't have a Jedi leading them, so if it is the Felucians, we'll need your help in convincing them to stand down." He paused. "Of course, it could have also been a rancor or an acklay. There's no shortage of hungry beasties that don't want to kill and devour us, not on this Force-forsaken planet."

"On the contrary, their presence demonstrates the presence of the Force here," Culbra said with a small smile, sliding his binocs back into his satchel. "But I agree with your point- the sooner we find this Dark Acolyte and counter the Separatist blockade, the sooner we'll can leave."

"Right, then- clones, get ready to move out!" the commander barked.

Behind them, ten other clones focused their attention on their leaders, getting into formation in a matter of seconds. "We've got an eight-hour window for this operation, before the rest of the battalions begin their offensive to the south of here. If we don't want to be caught up fighting non-stop for days, we need to have this done before midday. Remember, we're off the comm to get this done- if we break radio silence, it'll clue the Seps in on our position and they may start an offensive earlier than we're ready for." He turned to Culbra, nodding. "We're on you, Master Kurr."

The Jedi Knight nodded, taking a brief moment to center himself with a calm breath, and led the way with his lightsaber held ready.

There was no point in masking their approach. What he had said about Felucia teeming with the Force was true enough, though it was wild and raw; primal in most respects, hungering for food and alert for danger. The tiniest shuffle of a leaf or a toadstool would have caused all fauna to jerk up in surprise had Culbra or his soldiers had any interest in subtlety, but it was not for them that they needed to watch out for. No matter how hostile the wildlife around them could be, they were nothing compared to the blackened patch of the dark side that Culbra could feel ahead of them. That in mind, the last thing Culbra wanted to do was add to their burden by giving them more to fear.

Fear, after all, was a tragic path to the dark side.

For nearly hour they trudged through the muck and mushrooms, pausing only to check a track or allow a massive beast in the brush to pass unmolested. But for the orders to keep quiet during these tense moments and the occasional grumbles from some of the squad, not another word was said between them, though a growing sense of unease built through them all that, to Culbra, was more obvious to him than a shriek of terror. Were it not for years of training as a Jedi, the wolf felt like he would have lost it as well; and as it was, the fear of what he would see further on put apprehension in his steps.

The muddy ground seemed to thin out into damp dirt that clung to the soles of their boots as they pressed on, the noises in the jungle getting quieter. A shiver tore through Culbra's spine as he realized the ambient noise of fauna was being left behind, while deeper sounds of snarls and growls echoed ahead. Eyes scanned the environment around them, at the towering fungi above and at the curious ivory-like protrusions that pierced up from the ground at intervals.

One of the troopers plodded towards these outcrops of strange rock. "Ever see stones like this before, master Jedi?"

"Not on any planet I've been on, no," Culbra replied, cocking his head. "Maybe some kind of marker the natives on this world use."

"If so, there's no markings on them," the soldier noted, putting a hand on the outcrop as he squatted and looked it over. "No paint or carvings."

"Leave them be," he ordered them. "I don't want to risk offending the natives here if it does belong to them. If this site is sacred enough that our presence would raise their hostility, then the last thing we want to do is disturb the area. Focus on the mission ahead."

"Yes sir," the soldier replied, quickly getting to his feet and getting back in step.

Minutes stretched on as they left the noise of the jungle behind; and now ahead, a light mist obscured the details ahead of them. A glance back allowed Culbra to see the clone commander run a glove across his visor, wiping the condensation away.

"Visor still good?"

"I can see just fine, sir- at least it's not hot as hell here," he grunted. "And the mud's gone, finally. Reports didn't mention the terrain would be easier, we could have used this route to cut off the Seps months ago." He scanned around them. "For that matter, why didn't they use it?"

"Not sure," Culbra replied, extending his feelings around them, at the ebb and flow of the Force. Despite no cries or noise from fauna, the Jedi could still feel the overwhelming sense of life around them; ahead, an equally overpowering sensation of death. And something else- a feeling that was primal, something of great age and experience, that lingered in the earth beneath them. "I can feel the end of many lives ahead, long gone. Maybe this is a burial site and the Seps steered clear so as not to upset the locals."

"Could be a place of sacrifice," the commander suggested. "It'd be a good place for a Dark Acolyte to scurry off to."

They traveled on, the ground beneath them taking on a less earthen tone and replaced with a pale pink color. Ahead, the outline of a large bowl within the ground could be seen, obscured partially by the hills to either side, with sparse collections of mushrooms and fungi growing from the peaks of each apex. A pause in their march allowed Culbra to survey the area more closely, as the troops helped one another over a massive, mossy stalk from a fallen mushroom. He stepped ahead, reaching out through the Fore for any sign of his master and the Dark Acolyte, feeling a stir of conflict some distance away. It was only when he passed beneath a shadow that he stopped short, the Jedi looking up and expecting to see another neon-colored fungal sprout block the overhead light; instead, his eyes fixed upon a long, ivory spire, jutting out from the ground and curving up into the sky in an overhang.

Looking very much like a massive tooth.

He stopped short, taking in a sharp breath of air as all the pieces clicked. A surge of fear coursed through him as he whipped around at the clone troopers, still climbing over the log.

"Get away from the tendril, now!"

"Wha-"

But at that moment it had reacted. What they had believed to be a large fungal stalk lifted from the ground and bent, curling upwards as it upended several actual fungal stalks in the process. Two of the troopers yelled out in surprise as they fell off the appendage, while another three shouted as they were knocked aside. The remainder dove to the ground as the tendril groaned and whipped around, slamming into the earth and shaking the dirt off one of the reddish hills. Culbra's eyes widened as it hovered in the air above him and fell; it was only his Jedi reflexes that saved him, the wolf lunging to the right and into the dirt as it crashed into the space he'd occupied only half a moment earlier, the world around them shaking from the impact.

He spun onto his back, watching as it raised again and soared through the air, the tip of the appendage now visible it whirled around and blew the mist away from the force of its swing. The sound of several clicks to his left drew his attention back to the troops as they got into firing position.

"Open fi--"

"Negative!" Culbra shouted first, leaping to his feet and raising his paws up at them. "Stand down or it's gonna get us all killed!"

"What the hell is that thing, sir?!" one of the troopers yelled, his helmet caked with dirt and slime from the tendril.

Culbra swallowed, his answer held back as he tried to process what he was seeing. Logically he understood what it was, knew in his heart and mind what his eyes were witnessing; but that same logic, mixed with awe, was struggling with the complete impossibility of how such a creature could exist. For a full minute, he and the troops watched silently as the tendril whipped above the earthen bowl ahead, now joined by a second tendril of similar size. The twin tentacles bent toward the left edge of the bowl and into the fungal jungle, slamming into the earth with enough power that they could feel the tremors with it; and in the middle of it all, an immense roar of pain and rage. The tendrils tensed and wriggled, jerking back into the pit as they seemed to drag something along. Seconds later, the ends of the tendril burst into view, curled around a thrashing, howling rancor, the beast bleeding from several bone fractures it had to have sustained when it was attacked. It let out a deafening roar of rage and fear as it was carried past the lip of the bowl, a final howl echoing into the pit as the tendrils dragged it into what was now clearly a deep chasm in the earth, lined with the same tooth-like protrusions.

Then there was silence.

"… It was a sarlaac," Culbra finally said, his voice trembling. "All of this is a sarlaac."

"Damn," the commander grunted. "Guess that explains the missing patrols, then- must have ended up being a snack for this beastie. We'll need to report this once this op is over, unless you think we should call it off now."

Culbra shook his head. "No. The Sarlaac just caught a meal for itself, as long as we don't antagonize it we'll be safe." He turned to the rest of the squad, looking slightly bumped around but otherwise fine. "We'll take a five-minute breather and then press forward- Master Tron is one of the most skilled Jedi I know of, but he'll need our help all the same."

One of the clones looked up at him, then seemingly past him- he jerked up in surprise and pointed behind Culbra. "You're right, he will- over there!"

On the far side of the abyss, visible through the mist that was beginning to resettle around them, were a pair of dancing lights; one of them a brilliant yellow, the other a violent crimson. The former was held by an elderly Bothan Jedi, his face hard with concentration as he engaged his opponent in a vicious lightsaber duel. The latter was held by an Anzat male; a humanoid with a pair of tendrils hanging from the points of his cheeks, his attire black and regal, and his weapon that of a curved-hilt design. They spent only a few seconds to witness the duel from their side, hurrying into the open to watch; but in those few seconds was a blindingly fast series of exchanges, traded with an inhuman amount of speed.

Though distant, they could hear the crashes of their weapons echo across the ancient abyss, only a fraction of a second behind every moment their blades crossed. Master Tron pressed his attack relentlessly, battering his blade against the acolyte's defenses, yet could not score a clean hit; the dark fighter's bladework was efficient, minimal in execution but effective enough that his agile footwork kept him safe. While there was no way to know how long they had been dueling, Culbra could see the beginnings of strain in his master's features; patches of his fur were raised or disheveled, bristling from the exertion.

"Scrap the breather!" the clone commander barked. "Get down there fast as you can, we'll be right behind you!"

But Culbra's feet were already pounding against the pinkish surface, seconds into a sprint with his Jedi weapon in hand before the commander had started his second sentence. The sight of his mentor engaged with a servant of the dark side was enough to wash away the trepidation and fear that had weighed him down during the operation; yet despite his speed, it felt like his approach was taking hours, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene ahead. As he circled the enormous abyss, leaping over inert tendrils and ducking beneath each tooth that stood in his way, he could see the shift in the battle, the pace of the duel turning against his former master and friend.

Culbra's focus on the fight did not lessen his speed, but it did hamper his focus, for it was not until he saw the shadow from above that he realized the sarlaac was still in motion, its massive tendril arcing high above the abyss before toppling over, mere feet from where Culbra was headed. The Force guided the wolf's feet only enough for him to stop short and slide into the dirt, covering his head as the tendril slammed into the ground and shook the surface beneath him hard enough to roll him backwards several feet, leaving him prone on his stomach. Before he could even clear his mind enough to get back up another blow shook the earth behind him. A brief glance back was all he needed to see what had caused it, as a second tendril had slammed into the side of the abyss and ceased the approach of Culbra's clone allies when a group of fungal towers collapsed.

"We're cut off!"

"Get around it now!" the commander barked. "Up the hill, move it!"

The shock of the massive tremors had been enough to knock both duelists off-balance, but the exhausted Tron fared worse from it as his feet failed and he landed on his back. The Acolyte staggered several feet away, but whether it was from a lack of exhaustion due to conserving his energy or the superior footwork of Makashi providing him better balance, he remained on his feet. Both Culbra and Tron were still struggling to get upright when the Acolyte crossed the distance to the elder Jedi Master.

A sidestep and a counter knocked the Bothan's weapon out of the way. A sweep of his blade relieved Tron of his right arm.

For a moment Culbra though that he had unconsciously howled in anguish at the sight of his master being defeated, only to realize that the cry of pain was coming from Tron himself. The howl passed and Tron slumped back to his knees, gasping as he clutched what was left of his arm before glaring up at the Acolyte. As Culbra struggled to get back up he could head the soft, yet clear words of duelists.

The Anzat sneered down at him, angling his blade forward to prepare for a stab. "A good attempt, old man; but the duel was decided the moment you started. And had you won, you would have died later anyway."

Tron shook with pain, but raised his head with a fearless stare. "If that is my fate today... so be it. I've no regrets. You... will be stopped- the Jedi Order will live on."

Now the Acolyte cackled. "Oh... how I wish I could explain to you how wrong you are. But at least you will join all the others in death."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Tron snapped.

By now, Culbra had gotten back to his feet, stumbling as he rushed to a raised bit of rock just above them. Both duelists turned as Culbra revealed himself.

"Master Tron!!!"

The Anzat's lips curled into an evil grin as Master Tron's eyes widened.

"I was waiting for him."

Before either Jedi could speak, the Acolyte drove his blade forward, piercing into the Bothan's chest. Culbra could only watch in horror as his master was impaled, a sharp choke coughing from the elder man's muzzle, his eyes wide for but a moment before they glazed over, the light of life snuffed out in an instant.

In that same instant Culbra felt as if that same blade had punctured his heart, an unbearable heat in his chest accompanied with a chill throughout his nerves. His vision hazed, the sound becoming strangely muted, and for several seconds he was completely unaware that the scream echoing across the ancient abyss was his own; a scream of complete loss as one of the only connections he'd ever forged in his life was extinguished in the space of a heartbeat.

The Acolyte drew back smoothly, flourishing his blade as the Jedi Master fell over dead. A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes as he pointed his blade at Culbra. "The dead fool had no idea I was going easy on him, just so you could witness his final moments."

Upon hearing his slain master being insulted Culbra's hackles rose, a growl curling along his muzzle as he activated his Jedi weapon. A blade of silver light sprang from his hilt as he jumped down from the ledge and took up a fighting stance.

"Quite a reaction," the Anzat noted with a sneer, eyeing the wolf carefully. "He was no mere colleague to you, was he. No... this Jedi scum was clearly your master." Whether it was Culbra's lack of response or the glare he was giving the dark figure, the Anzat cackled again, nodding. "You don't need to say a word, boy. When you go so long hiding your emotions, they will always give you away when you let them out. Come on, then- I've more than enough energy to take on another."

"I'll not fall," Culbra swore, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. "After what you've done..."

"What I've done here, and what I will do to you, is nothing compared to the fate of the Jedi today," the Dark Acolyte spat. "And you won't be alive to see it!"

They charged at the same moment with weapons held high, sweeping them simultaneously as they met with a deafening crash of blades and a blinding flash of light. What followed then was an inhumanely fast cadence, a lethal dance between both duelists as their blade sought to end each other's lives. Dance though it was, their styles could not have been more different. The Acolyte's Makashi was fluid and conservative, an approach that demanded precision; but Culbra's Djem So was unlike his master's Ataru; instead of an agile display of acrobatic, the wolf instead wove the air before him with strong, swift blows, his blade covered multiple angles of attack that gave the Acolyte no room to breath. In the space of a few seconds they had filled the air with over a dozen rapid staccatos that echoed across the ancient abyss, before breaking off their engagement for a brief pause.

"So the whelp has some skill after all," the Acolyte sneered. "You may as well take solace in knowing you'll last longer than your fool of a teacher."

The mention of his slain master caused a surge of anger in the wolf, and he was met with two impulses at the same moment; the first to rush headlong towards his foe and put every ounce of effort into extinguishing his life. It was the second impulse that saved him, his eyes flicking to the unmoving body for a fraction of a second in the slim hope that he was not yet dead, though his heart knew otherwise. It was Master Tron's face that brought calm to Culbra's spirit in that moment, hearing a lifetime of lessons under the aged Jedi Master that advised him on how best to handle such situations. For a brief moment his eyes closed, reflecting the faint echo of his master's words:

There is no emotion; there is peace.

His eyes flicked open just in time, a pulse in the Force giving him the warning he would otherwise not have felt had he succumbed to his anger; in one fluid, Force-directed motion, he knelt forward and turned his head a fraction of an inch away, just as the Acolyte's red blade swept past his cheek and shoulder. In the same moment the wolf's free hand formed a fist and swung upwards into his foe's unprotected gut, a gasp choking out of the Acolyte as he staggered back a few steps.

Culbra did not follow up the attack, content to regard the darksider with a look of contempt instead. Whether it was because he believed the wolf was vulnerable during that brief moment or simply thought him unskilled enough to fight evenly, the Acolyte had tried to rush the battle and left himself wide open. The look of pain on his face changed into one of rage as he charged back in, weaving his blade into Culbra's range with a series of jabs and cuts, working himself towards the wolf with quickened footwork.

He was ready, his own bladework fluid as he intercepted each attack with a counter, deflecting the crimson beam each time it neared him and forcing the duelist to defend himself when Culbra followed up with a swift trade in blows. The Acolyte darted in with a lunge. Culbra sidestepped, slashed. A block to defend the back, then a twist to reorient and jab. The wolf slapped the blade away, spun, sank an elbow into the dark duelist's chest and whirled to his other side with a swing. Another block, twist, and swing as the dance continued, played to the rhythm of their attacks as the irony of each fighter's intensity grew; the eye of the storm consumed with rage, with the storm itself calm and focused.

Now Culbra was low to the ground, slashing at the Acolyte's feet and scoring a shallow hit on his left shin-guard, enough to cause the Acolyte to stagger away. The wolf did not let up, cutting his approach off with a lunge and backing him up to the edge of the abyss. A powerful slash brought their blades into a lock, the duelists glaring into each other's eyes.

"You're not as powerful as you want others to believe," Culbra growled. "Not if I can best you."

"I was powerful enough to gut your worthless master!" the Acolyte snarled viciously, attempting to get a reaction as he struggled against the lock. "He was the weakest of all Jedi I have ever fought!"

But whatever sting Culbra might have felt before did nothing to him now; his control over the saber-lock was unbreakable. "You can't use my master against me again. He lives on in me, in what he taught me and how he raised me."

"Then I'll just have to kill you too!"

He sensed it a half-moment before he heard it, the snap-hiss of a third lightsaber igniting followed by the hum of the weapon as it sped towards him. With grunt the Acolyte bashed his forehead against Culbra's stunning him just long enough to break away from the lock as the wolf blindly stepped aside, narrowly avoiding decapitation from his own master's weapon. Before Culbra could fully recover the acolyte had snatched up the hilt and brought both blades down over the wolf's head, barely blocked by his silver blade. A twist of both weapons and Culbra felt his hilt leave his paw, torn out of his grip and leaving him weaponless.

The Force.... and my teachings... will always be with you.

It was a quiet echo- but it was all Culbra needed to hear to know he was not defenseless.

He had only a moment to act, but by that point he'd already acted. With a sidestep and a twist he dodged the Acolyte's lunge, countering with an open-palmed thrust that slammed into the crook of his elbow with incredible force; a crack sounded and the Acolyte shouted in pain, dropping Master Tron's lightsaber. He raised his other saber, aiming to remove Culbra's head from his shoulders, but the wolf reacted quickly and blocked his arm with his own, leaving his right side open. Years of Broken Gate training channeled through his fists as he unleashed a blurring barrage of punches into the Acolyte's ribs and liver, the sound of each blow powerful enough to echo across the sarlaac chasm. The last strike exploded like the sound of thunder, the surrounding stalks of fungi rippling as the shock of Force energy spread outward in a stretching ring.

For several seconds the two were frozen in place, connected only by Culbra's fist digging into the Acolyte's side. When he finally did step away, the dark-robed figure slumped to his knees, holding his saber up blindly as he gasped for air.

"Weak..." he choked out. "Too weak... to kill me..."

Culbra's face was impassive. "You are defeated. There's no need to kill you."

The Acolyte's head snapped up, rage in his eyes, and in a final burst of energy lunged from his crouched position with his lightsaber held high.

It was with that same impassive expression that Culbra thrust both his palms out, slamming them into the Anzatr's unguarded chest, several sick snaps audible beneath his flesh as his ribs were pulverized. The Anzat's look of rage transitioned into one of shock and pain, a trickle of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth as it moved wordlessly. Whatever he would have said was left unsaid, as in the next moment he was blasted back, thrown dozens of meters away by an explosion of Force energy from the wolf's palms. Halfway into the throw, he found the ability to scream again, a howl of rage and fury as he disappeared into the mists of the ancient abyss.

When at last the echo of his scream had ended, Culbra sighed and relaxed, the tension leaving his body, casting a last look at the chasm.

"Your life is in the hands of the Force, and of the fury of nature."

Only minutes earlier, the clone commander and his men had caught up, too late to offer support to the finished duel. They had spoken briefly on Master Tron, offered their condolences and spent a moment of silence to honor the dead.

And then the pain came. A fleeting, intense moment of loss and violence that tore at Culbra's spirit, leaving him weakened. When he looked up, his allies had their rifles raised, pointed at him.

"I'm sorry. It's been an honor, sir."

It was instinct that saved him in that moment.

He was already on the ground the moment the first bolt was fired, flinging his paw out at the same moment and tossing the entire squad into a pile with a pulse of Force energy. He took no time to question what was happening, putting all of his trust into the Force- which at that moment was telling him to get to his feet and leave with all haste. Still reeling from the pain of loss, which he dimly realized was not merely due to Master Tron's death, he staggered back to his feet and stumbled away, stopping only long enough to collect his fallen master's lightsaber and slide it into his satchel as he left.

A tug to his left leaned him over, just as a blaster bolt sailed over his right shoulder and exploded against one of the sarlaac's fangs; an attack he had not anticipated and only narrowly dodged. With raw nerves and tired limbs he pressed on, alarmed by his diminished connection to the Force. It was only his natural strength that allowed him to climb the ascent out of the mouth of the enormous sarlaac and into the jungle, his feet digging into soft earth once again; and yet this was not fast enough, with the clones keeping pace and firing every few moments, forcing him to duck each time the Force urged him to do so. Fear began to creep into him, still feeling the ghostly pangs of death that needled at his core, slowing his steps with every second.

How long he had run, he could not tell, but his burst out of the dense fungal jungle was abrupt, the wolf finding himself on a sun-lit dirt path, out in the open. For a few moments he paused, trying to get his bearings and his breathing under control. To his right, the path was clear. He looked to his left and his heart sank, spotting a squad of clones.

And behind them, an AT-TE.

The squat tank-like walker paused in mid-stride along with the clones as they caught sight of the wolf, and even from a distance Culbra could hear their shouts.

"It's him! Open fire!"

He had only sprinted half a dozen steps before the cannon fired and the world around him exploded.

He wasn't sure where he landed, beyond that it was on the other side of the path; but had he the ability to move, his pain was so great that he felt it best to simply wait for it all to end. Without looking to see how bad his injuries were, he could tell his right arm and both legs were broken, his ribs were shattered, and his lungs seared, making it difficult to breathe.

If he had to give an opinion, death might be better, he thought dully.

His head rolled to one side and he saw a glint of silver. Master Tron's lightsaber lay only a few feet away, with reach. A pang of emotion displaced a portion of his physical agony, as Culbra could not help but feel grief for his master's passing- and the passing of so many others, he realized. How or why, it didn't matter. All he knew was that the Jedi had been betrayed, and that it had been their deaths he had felt. Had he any energy left to spare, he was sure he would have tried to get up, perhaps reach out to Master Aayla Secura or Barriss Offee through the Force, yet with every second he could feel his consciousness fading.

How do I make my death easier? he mused to himself.

Seconds passed and part of the pain subsided as he sought for something in his life that soothed him. The last time he felt anything close to this agony, Y'Lara had been there to heal him.

… Y'Lara...

Even now he could see her with his mind's eye, a gentle smile on a felinoid face, fur as pure white as morning snow on Hoth. Moments of joy and surges of emotion he seldom felt anytime else flickered through his memories as he recalled those precious moments when she was at his side. Somehow, he felt could confront his death knowing such a woman had been in his life. If he regretted one thing, it was only that she was not at his side to ease his passing.

Actually... it's best she not see my passing, he decided. He could not bear to leave her grieving. Faced with the fact that he was likely dying, he reached for his master's Jedi weapon.

His fingers were only inches from the hilt when he heard movement in front of him.

He froze, turning his head enough to look up into the helmet of a clone trooper, with a pair of blaster pistols held up.

"Alpha-75 reporting. Found the body."

Culbra's eyes widened, realizing he was staring at an elite ARC trooper- yet it was the call-sign that caused a surge of clarity in his mind.

"C... Cable...?" he rasped weakly.

The trooper did not response to him, nodding. "Not much left of him, but I'll put a pair into the rest to be sure."

Before the wolf could say anything, the trooper opened fire.

Both bolts exploded above the wolf's head.

The ARC trooper holstered his pistols, then quickly removed his helmet. A tan-skinned human with short, black hair stared down at him with concern as he approached. "I'm sorry, mate; gotta make it look genuine." He stooped low and grabbed Master Tron's weapon.

"N... no..." Culbra moaned, feeling life slipping away from him. "Not his... Cable... don't..."

Cable nodded solemnly, looking over the weapon for a few second and twisting it open. "I know, I'm sorry. He was... a brave man, your master. But I need to come back with evidence, and they won't know this lightsaber wasn't yours." The weapon slid apart, revealing the crystal chamber, and with a careful pair of gloved fingers Cable plucked it out of its resting place.

"What...?"

"For you," Cable said simply, placing it into Culbra's palm before taking the rest of the weapon and grabbing his helmet. "Stay here and don't move. I'll be back soon."

Culbra said nothing, watching him leave and doing as he was told. What pain he'd felt in his heart had now subsided, relief that some part of his master would be with him as he passed on and became one with the Force.

As the edges of his vision blurred into nothingness, he knew it would only be a matter of time.

"I think he's coming to."

The words, though clear, sounded distant and soft. If he had been dreaming or hallucinating, he could recall nothing of what he saw. In the moments that followed, however, he became certain that there was no pain. Sensation returned, starting with the sensation of soft linen against his fingerpads and palm, a slight itch in his left jowl, and a comfortable pillow beneath his head.

His eyes flicked open, staring into a dull gray ceiling. The sound around him grew, a gentle roar that informed him that he was on a ship. Movement to his left drew his attention, but despite the unknown environment he could sense he was not in danger, and so he calmly turned his head to see who was near.

The first man he noticed was seated on a bench next to a ship hatch; a black-furred feline humanoid with white hair and silver eyes, dressed in engineering coveralls, a brown bomber jacket, and belt and holster from which hung a heavy blaster and a long combat knife. He gave Culbra a reassuring smile, then glanced to his side where a second person was standing above him; a dark-skinned human male with dark brown hair and a goatee, clothed in a simple shirt and trousers- it was only the presence of his lightsaber on his hip that informed the wolf that he was no mere spacer.

The human offered Culbra a small smile. "We were hoping you'd wake soon, Master Culbra."

The wolf stirred, letting out a breath and attempting to sit up, a dull ache in his body making him groan.

"Easy there," the human cautioned, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned to the feline. "Kane?"

"Got it," the feline nodded, getting up and striding forward, pulling an injector unit from his satchel. Sensing no ill intent, Culbra allowed the man to apply the instrument to his neck, wincing as the compound flushed through his body. "It's an Andris spice medical compound, it'll take the edge out of your aches for a while. Figured you'd want some painkillers in case your connection to the Force is a bit spotty." He looked back to the human. "I'll go get the others."

"Okay- and check in on the kid," he added as Kane exited, before returning his focus to the wolf. "You're gonna be fine now, Culbra. It was a bit touch and go, but with the help of a couple of friends we were able to get you off Felucia and into the hands of a healer."

"Nng... thank you," Culbra groaned, taking a deep breath and sighing; indeed, the compound was already eliminating the feeling of stiffness in his body and fuzziness in his mind. He looked up at the pair. "Where... am I?"

"On our ship, the Rushin' Roulette," the human answered. "I'm Bran, a Jedi Knight; the Trianii who just left is my partner and husband, Kane, an Antarian Ranger."

The wolf sat up straighter, hope building in him. "A Jedi...? I thought that..."

The smile on Bran's face faded. "I figured you might not know what was going on. I'll need to bring you up to speed. Alot of things have changed."

Before he could continue, however, a cry of joy rang out from the hatch. They widened as he caught sight of two more figures- the first of which was Cable, still equipped in his ARC trooper armor but having removed the helmet.

It was the second figure, however, that left him without words; a white-furred female felinoid, adorned in the robes of a Jedi Knight. For a moment the wolf reconsidered that the might have actually died, fearful to even dare to wish that the woman before him was real lest she be taken from him. But after a few moments, he found enough courage to speak her name, a tone of hope in his voice.

"Y'lara...?"

"Culbra!"

With speed he was not expecting the Togorian rushed to his side and embraced him tightly, shaking with sobs of joy. Any lesson the wolf had learned of controlling his emotions was discarded within a moment, as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Through blurry vision, he looked back up at Bran, who was smiling again. "I suppose, though, that not everything is bad."

"Kane and I heard it," Bran repeated with a sigh. "And Master Windu believed it. And after three years of war, putting it into the context of a massive web of deception and manipulation, it makes sense- we were all betrayed by Palpatine."

The five of them were seated around the lounge table in deep discussion, the surface littered with empty bottles and discarded ration trays. It wasn't until they were all finished eating that Bran had steeled himself and attempted to summarize what had happened to Culbra, and what had happened since then. It had been hard to hear it all- the elimination of the Separatist's remaining leaders in a single night; the transition of the Republic into an Empire, under the rule of Emperor Palpatine; the ongoing purge of the Jedi Order; and the justifications for the eradication of all remaining Jedi.

The end of the Clone Wars, which Culbra knew all Jedi were aiming to achieve, had shattered the only world he had ever known. And yet, he could not believe it.

"Chancellor Palpatine as a Sith Lord... I just... it's hard to process this," the wolf said, his face in his paws.

"I don't think we're going to get a straight answer for what happened for years, if ever," Bran told them. "I can only inform you of what we heard and saw, coupling that with what we know. Master Skywalker was agitated enough, I think he expected there would be a conflict, but Master Windu told him to stay behind."

"Did he say why?" Y'Lara asked.

"No... but we waited for several hours and neither he nor the masters he left with returned. Maybe half an hour after they left we saw Master Skywalker jump into a speeder- he never returned, either."

"You think the chancellor killed them all?" Culbra said skeptically.

"He's the one who activated Order 66," Cable said dully from other side of the table. "It was a bio-engineered obedience chip order in all clones, to be executed on vocal command from the chancellor himself, even though we didn't know it."

"What is the order, specifically?"

"'In the event of Jedi officers acting against the interests of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander, commanders of the Grand Army of the Republic will remove those officers by lethal force; and command of the GAR will revert to the Supreme Commander until a new command structure is established,'" Cable answered, fluidly and flawlessly- and with no shortage of shame in his voice and features.

"But you didn't kill me," Culbra reasoned.

"Because I sustained a head injury a few months ago," the clone told him, pointing at the back of his head. "The obedience module was removed by the civilian medic who tended to me. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but I decided not to bring it up to my superiors. I didn't who I could trust. It could have been a Separatist plan that someone else was in on; and my superiors never asked about the treatment for my injuries as my skillset and experience was needed on Felucia. But once the order was issued I realized what was going on." He looked down at the table. "I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Damn it," Culbra groaned. "And the Republic... they just let this happen?"

"We all knew Republic opinion of the Jedi was low," Kane said evenly. "It was a Jedi that ordered the clones to be made, a Jedi leading the CIS, and then the Jedi Knights being tasked with leading armies when they had no place doing so given their oaths. I'm not trying to knock on the Jedi Order, mind you- but perception was against us from the start."

"Add to that the fact that Mace Windu and the other Jedi Masters who went with him attacked the chancellor," Bran started to say.

"You don't actually believe that?" Culbra asked with a frown. "If Palpatine was a Sith Lord, it's natural he'd lie about it."

"The best lies are usually the ones that are mostly true," Kane countered quietly.

"Can you honestly tell us Master Windu wouldn't have faced down a Sith Lord with his saber drawn?" Y'Lara pressed Culbra, regarding him with a frown. The wolf did not answer, fully aware of her personal opinion of Windu as a die-hard traditionalist whom she disagreed with.

Bran continued. "We all knew that he voiced the idea of the Jedi taking control of the Republic to ensure a peaceful transition back into the hands of the Senate, if Palpatine didn't give up his emergency powers. And if it weren't bad enough, he submitted audio recordings of Master Windu attempting to arrest him."

"Confronting Palpatine would have been messy, but it would have been the only way to remove him from power given how much control he already had," Kane finished. "He would have seen it coming. He just needed one Jedi to play right into his hands, and Master Windu was perfect for that role."

Culbra didn't speak for nearly a minute, his arms folded and his fingers digging into his fur. "Then... what's the status of the Temple?"

"Destroyed," Y'Lara said sadly.

"Are there no other survivors?"

"Less than two hundred, for sure," Bran informed him. "The Empire put out a signal to recall all Jedi back to Coruscant, but Master Yoda and Master Kenobi managed to return to the temple and replace it with a transmission ordering all Jedi to go into hiding."

"Did anybody manage to escape?"

"We were only a custodial force," Kane told him. "Bran and I told everyone we could to run, but most of them wanted to hold then line for the sake of the children there. We tried to tell Master Drallig to bring them to the hangar, but... he never arrived. We could only save one child. And that's not including the artifacts we had to trash before we left."

"Which ones?"

"I had to smash the Healing Crystal of Fire," Bran told him, reaching into his satchel. "Something like that, in the hands of the Sith- I couldn't risk it. I was able to salvage a couple of intact breakoffs from the main stone." He held out a pair of two small crystals, pulsing with a gentle golden light. "Y'Lara was able to heal you with them."

"It was tough," she admitted with a small and shy smile, "but I wasn't about to fail you."

Culbra managed a sad smile in return, leaning onto the table. "So... what happens now?"

There was silence between them as Kane and Bran traded troubled looks; it was Kane who broke it, quietly.

"Well... we've been keeping in touch with other Antarian Rangers, trying to track down other survivors and directing them to other parts of the galaxy. Some of them might be hiding out in the Unknown Regions; Master Rahm Kota for sure left for the Outer Rim." He chuffed. "He was the smart one... that guy never did trust clone troopers- no offense," he added.

"None taken," Cable replied.

"We think Master Shaak Ti made it out alive with some of the other kids," Bran continued. "Master Shadday Potkin also contacted us, tried to convince us to stand with them against this 'Darth Vader' enforcer that Palpatine has recruited," Bran continued, "but we refused. Gathering in one place would just make it easier for the Empire to blast us all in one spot. That was a few days ago, though. We haven't heard back from them yet."

"But what is your overall plan?" Culbra pressed.

"Ours?" Kane replied with another mirthless chuckle. "My husband and I are going back to my homeworld, Ekibo, and we're going to live there as long as we can, out of the reach of the Empire. If you're smart, you'll keep your mouth shut and your head down, and hopefully come out of this alive."

The wolf stared at them.

"… That's it?"

Kane frowned. "That's it."

"You're just going to run and hide?" Culbra pressed, narrowing his eyes.

"We're going to stay alive," Kane pushed back, folding his arms with a frown of his own. "Running is typically what you do when you're outmatched and outnumbered, in order to stay alive; hiding is what you do when you want to remain that way."

"You're an Antarian Ranger!" Culbra snarled. "You're supposed to stand with the Jedi!"

"I am!" Kane snarled back. "And I'm doing that by helping you guys stay alive! But if I'm going to succeed then you need to be smart and keep out of sight!"

The wolf got to his feet, hackles rising; whether it was the stress brought on by the knowledge that Jedi Order had been defeated, or indignation at being told to hide, he felt he could only struggle against it. "You... what, you just want me to abandon the Jedi Order?! You want me to give up being a Je--"

"The Jedi are defeated!" Bran shouted firmly and clearly, getting from his seat and giving the wolf a hard stare.

The table went silent as all eyes flicked towards the human Jedi. Kane, who had only moments earlier looked ready to get into it with the wolf, seemed startled by his companion's volume, saying nothing. Bran sighed, a look of pain in his features as he seemed to slump.

"I'm sorry, Culbra," Bran said. "I really am. I hate that I have to say those words, but that is our reality right now, Culbra. The Jedi are not dead yet, but whether or not it continues to live depends on our ability to survive." He looked around the table. "This is not a war we can win. Not now, not without allies, not with most of the galaxy standing against us. And as crazy as it sounds, we have to survive by doing what the Sith did- by hiding under their noses, waiting until it's time to strike, if that moment ever comes." He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "No... I'm not expecting you to give up being a Jedi, nor abandon everything about us. But I want you to survive. If I didn't, I wouldn't have risked everything I love to help you and Y'Lara."

"Culbra," the feline said quietly, "he... he may be right. We need to... weigh our options."

The wolf stared at her, guilt welling up in him as he sat back down, his posture that of a defeated man. "I... I need time to think."

"We can keep you here as long as you need," Kane offered. "If you want to come with us to Ekibo, that's fine too. For now, we'll hole up in the Outer Rim and wait until it's safe to move."

"Thank you," the wolf said, trying to inject the gratitude he felt in his voice. "I just... wish this wasn't the end."

Bran shook his head, managing a tired smile. "Not even close, Culbra. Just another stage of life we didn't expect."

For the next few hours Culbra sat in silence, mulling over his options; though he had to admit that his circumstances were far better than many others. In that time he had come to the realization that he had no idea where to go or what to do, the life of a Jedi being the only life he'd trained for. Perhaps deciding it would be best to allow the wolf his space, neither Bran nor Kane had bothered him, though if he had to be honest he would have preferred to have their insight. Even Y'Lara and Cable had given him time to think in private.

It wasn't until after a brief break to the refresher that he decided it would be best to sleep on it, stifling a yawn as he headed towards the crew quarters and triggered the nearest door, pausing for a moment as he realized that Bran had offered him the second set, a little deeper into the ship. Before he could close the hatch, however, his eyes fell on a lone figure on the bottom bunk, who Culbra did not recognize.

He was small, only a child, with gray fur, a golden marking across his sleeping eyes, black hair, and dressed in Padawan attire. Most striking was his wolfish face, though one far different from a Shistavanen's, a form that Culbra had never seen before. Despite having opened the door a little loudly, the pup did not stir.

The hatch nearby opened and Culbra senses Y'Lara leaning out of the doorway, cocking her head. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed she was about to speak- he raised his paw, then put a finger to his lips as he continued to stare at the pup. When he did not move, Y'Lara exited the room, wondering what had him so transfixed- and joining him in watching the pup sleeping once her eyes fell on him.

"Who... is he?" Culbra asked.

"I don't know," Y'Lara said curiously. "I didn't even know he was here. Is he one of yours?"

"No, he's not a Shistavanen," Culbra said with certainty. "I've never seen him before."

"That's because he's mine," a voice behind them said, causing them both to jump at the sound of Bran's voice. The human smiled warmly as the pair stood aside, waiting for him to explain, but he merely stepped inside and sat at the edge of the bed, pulling a blanket over him. After a few moments he looked up. "He's my Padawan- and in every way that matters, my son."

"Your son?" Culbra repeated, not quite sure he heard right.

"I'm Corellian," Bran explained, running a hand through the pup's hair. "So even in the Jedi Order I'd be allowed to get married and have children, if I wish. The kid is obviously not mine by birth, but... he's as good as my son all the same. Taking him up as my Padawan was just as much as adopting him."

"What species is he?" Y'Lara asked.

"We're still not sure," Bran shrugged. "We visited Kamino and asked the cloners there if his species was a part of any registry, but they couldn't tell us anything. He's not Shistavanen, like Culbra said, but he's unlike any other species we know of. His kind might be from the Unknown Regions, or maybe Wild Space."

"Maybe we should keep it down," the feline suggested quietly. "I wouldn't want to wake the poor child."

"He won't wake up," Bran assured her as he got to his feet. "He's been through a lot, I've been using the Force to help him sleep." He looked between the two of them, then exited the room while gesturing them to follow. "You both look like you need to talk. Let's take it to the galley."

They followed him into the medium-sized meal room, offering them seats while he worked the food processor. "I was actually hoping to get some rest," Culbra told him as he sat.

"I know," Bran said with a smile. "That's usually the best time to talk, I've found. You want to try not to sleep when you have so many fears and worries on your mind. So let's start with you, Y'Lara."

The feline perked up. "Me? I mean... no, I'm fine," she assured him softly.

"I admire your goal in trying to be positive and strong, but you need to be able to admit when something is bothering you," Bran told her, leaning against the counter. "We're all still reeling from what happened. Some of us have a plan to get through this, while others are still lost; but even those of us who know what we want to do have our doubts." He nodded to Y'Lara. "So... what is it you want to do?"

The feline hesitated, then sighed as she began to rummage through her satchel. Both men watched as she extracted a well-balanced, ancient lightsaber, expertly crafted with artisanal etchings of gold and silver, and placed it on the table. She reached in again and pulled out a small, beautifully cut crystal of an orange hue.

"You're not the only one who believed it was best to keep Jedi artifacts out of the hands of the Empire," she said softly. "My own lightsaber was destroyed when I escaped but I needed a weapon to defend myself. I didn't even know it at the time, but it held the Solari crystal, thought to be the one the redeemed Revan found on Korriban."

Culbra brightened. "That's a powerful relic. Something like that could turn the tide against Palpatine, and he wouldn't even be able to use it. Only someone following the light could wield it."

"We can't use it," Y'Lara told him firmly. "Not for that."

"Why not?"

"Its use is restricted from the Jedi as it is to prevent the cultivation of too much power. If the Emperor ever found a way to corrupt it, it could be a large step- possibly even the only step- he would need to take to become unstoppable. As far as I'm concerned, my duty is to keep these artifacts hidden."

"Fair enough," the wolf agreed. "Then keeping it out of the hands of the Empire should continue to be your objective. Using it will keep you on the right path."

A sigh to their left drew their attention, just in time for them to see Bran roll his eyes with an exasperated look. With the shake of his head he turned his attention to the food processor and began to fill a trio of mugs with a brown liquid.

"What's wrong?" Y'Lara asked.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all," Bran said with no shortage of sarcasm. "Serves me right for expecting other knights to know what the hell I'm even talking about," he grumbled. "Can you two stop being Jedi for at least an hour? I know all three of us have had it drilled into our heads that it's a life-long commitment, but come on..."

"What's the problem?" Culbra asked with a frown. "You asked Y'Lara what she has to do, and she told you."

"I did no such thing!" Bran countered firmly. "I asked her what she wanted to do, without factoring in things like 'duty' and 'objectives' like this was some kind of long-term mission. I'm not telling you guys to immediately start plotting against the Empire and bring down Palpatine- I'm asking you how you plan to live from now on."

The words almost felt foreign to Culbra, an idea he'd never once considered.

"How we'll... live?" he repeated.

Bran nodded. "Yes, as in continuing to exist without having to be Jedi. Believe me, it's possible to live without the Force being central to our lives. And I'm not saying that protecting these objects isn't important, but it doesn't really tell me what your goals in life are now." He set the mugs out in front of them before taking a seat with a sigh. "We've been Jedi for so many years, but can you honestly tell me that you've never once dreamed of what you would be like if you weren't?"

The wolf opened his mouth reflexively- only to have nothing to say. The silence lingered and he looked to Y'Lara, who looked pensive for a few moments, before timidly looking to the wolf.

"Well," she started slowly, as a patch of red grew on her cheeks, "I always wondered what it would be like to... have a family."

A slight surge of surprise and dismay arose in the wolf. "You have?" he said abruptly, sitting up straight- then clearing his throat and lean against the table while trying to feign being interested only half as much as he was now. "I mean... it can't be terribly difficult to imagine."

"Maybe not," she said quietly, her smile a little wider. "But it's so commonplace that I think many people who live that kind of life take it for granted, while Jedi like us will never know what it's like." She shrugged, her bashful gaze meeting his eyes. "It warms my heart when I'm able to serve others as a Jedi, but I sometimes wonder if it that warmth would be deeper if I were doing it for... the people I love. Or even the man that I love," she added, looking away.

To hear that she might have feelings for someone else came as a shock to Culbra, causing him to flinch slightly. "Oh. So... you've imagined a man in your life?"

"For most of it, yes," she said in a voice so quietly only Jedi hearing could have picked it up. "I mean, I know it's wrong, but..."

The wolf swallowed, feeling hollow inside. "No, no... you won't hear me judging you for your attraction." He cleared his throat trying to sound as casually interested as possible. "I see... with who?"

But she did not answer, biting her lip and turning away her eyes again.

"Oh by the Force," Bran sighed in exasperation. "She's talking about you!"

The wolf stared at him, the words not sinking in until he looked back to the feline.

"Wait, me?" Culbra asked, looking between the both of them; but even as Y'Lara drew back shyly, she smiled.

"If she were being subtle about it, maybe I could chalk it up to the Jedi Order not bothering to teach guys how to pick up hints from interested women- but you don't have excuse." Bran told him. "This girl is head over heels about you, and it's like you don't even notice! Or more likely, you're doing your best to ignore it," he added as he took a sip from his mug.

"It's true," she admitted, her face as red as a sunset on Korriban. "There are days I wonder what it would be like if I were not a Jedi, and who I'd spend my life with. I know I shouldn't really entertain those thoughts, but... you're my first and only choice in those daydreams." She reached out hesitantly, then place her paw on his. "What about you?"

Now on the spot, the wolf found himself completely speechless, a very real fear of not knowing how and what to feel beginning to storm inside. For almost a minute he tried and failed to respond, yet Y'Lara merely waited with a kind smile on her muzzle until he could finally muster a response.

"I... I don't know what I wanted to be, if I couldn't be a Jedi," he admitted slowly. "It's the only life I know, I've never considered anything else."

"Even Padawans have dreams," Bran pressed. "Was there really nothing in your entire life?

"If there ever was, I don't remember. But..." He hesitated a moment, thinking back to fuzzy thoughts as he lay dying on Felucia. "When I was bleeding out and ready to pass on, I thought about what might ease my passing. And I could only think of how... how happy I was when Y'Lara was at my side; and thankful that she didn't have to see me die, as much as I wanted her to be with me," he said, looking away. But he did not move his paw from hers.

Bran nodded, sipping from his mug. "It sounds like the two of you have had feelings for each other for some time, even if you weren't aware of it. It wouldn't be the first time."

"I've known since I was a Padawan," Y'Lara said. "I know that it's wrong, but--"

"To hell with that, there's nothing wrong with it in the first place," Bran scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "As far as I'm concerned, denying our own feelings and not seeking out love was one of the worst ideas the Jedi have ever adopted. It's not like it ever stopped Jedi from doing it anyway."

"Well, not you," Culbra started to say.

"I'm not talking about Corellian Jedi," he countered. "I'm talking about Jedi in general- or more specifically, people in general. Take away the Force and that's all we are, no better or worse than anybody else in the galaxy. We've never tried to stop others from forming relationships and attachments, yet we do it to ourselves."

"We need to in order to serve others," Culbra replied. "A Jedi's life is service."

"Ignoring the fact that there's no Jedi Order to be a service to anymore; we're not simple insects," the human insisted. "Yes, if you look at any sentient species you will almost always find that altruism is intrinsic and necessary for survival; but it's just as important for those species to have their own goals and desires, the drive to improve their lives. And most of those species will always yearn for companionship."

Culbra cocked his head. "Is that why you married?"

"Kane's presence in my life has been one of the best parts of it," Bran told them. "And with my Padawan, it's like we're already a family- no, we are a family," he corrected himself firmly. "So my intention is to take my family into hiding and live our lives as happily as we can; and if it's possible, split the difference between that and being Jedi in our actions by helping others when we can, beyond the reach of the Empire. If it comes to a point that the best way to protect my family is to taking up farming on some backwater planet, then at least I'll take joy in keeping them safe."

Culbra looked to Y'Lara, the feline still holding his paw- though at some point, the two had clasped palms rather than hers simply laying atop his. "You really believe that it's possible?" she asked hopefully. "For us to just... give in and follow our hearts?"

"What, you think I married Kane just this week?" Bran chuckled. "He's been my husband for two years, and I never had to give up my service as a Jedi in that time, until now. If you want my honest suggestion, I think you two should to talk it out and decide what you want for each other and yourselves- and if you come to a conclusion, find a way to balance it with a reduced service to others."

The wolf looked to Y'Lara, their eyes meeting at the same moment. Neither of them said anything immediately, though the urge to reassure the feline built quickly within Culbra. He was on the verge of speaking when a noise at the hatch drew their attention.

"Dad... wuz goin' on?" a sleepy young voice whined.

All three turned their eyes at the Padawan pup. A tired look was on his face as he rubbed his golden eyes with his paws.

"Who're... who's these people?"

Bran quickly got up, rushing to the little canine and crouching next to him. "Hey little guy," he said soothingly, running a hand through his hair. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Hadda nightmare," the pup whimpered, leaning into Bran and nuzzling into his neck. "Voices and blasting from the temple."

"Shh, you're okay, pup," Bran told him, rubbing the pup's back gently as he held him close. "We're far away from Coruscant now, they're not going to get you- I promise."

The pup drew back, looking up at Bran with tears in his eyes; Culbra could not help but feel bad for the pup. "Everyone else is gone," he said sadly.

"Not everyone," Culbra said suddenly, hoping as he got to his feet that his presence would put hope back in the child. "We're not all gone, and we're safe for the moment."

Bran nodded. "This is Culbra and Y'Lara- we saved them from Felucia a week ago, remember? They survived... everything happened," he said with a slight waver in his voice. "And so did a lot of others. Even some of the other children."

"Does that mean... we're gonna fight the Republic?" the pup asked timidly.

"We're not going back," Bran told him, wiping the pup's tears away. "We can't return to the temple and go back to what we were doing, not on Coruscant. But Master Yoda is alive, and he told everybody to run away from the Repu--" He stopped short, starting again. "He told everyone to hide from the Empire, so that's what we're gonna do."

"Master Yoda is alive?" the pup repeated with a look of hope, his tail wagging slightly.

"It's true," Y'Lara piped up, and the pup seemed to relax at her gentle words and calm smile- in them, Culbra could hear genuine hope, meeting her eyes again. "It will take some... adjustment, but it means we can live more normal lives instead of having to go back to war."

"That's why Kane and I are going to take you to Ekibo," Bran said with a wide smile. "It's on the fringes of the galaxy, where nobody will be able to find us. And then we'll just... retire early," he chuckled. "Live like a family and earn our keep like normal people." At that the pup managed a smile, hugging into Bran tightly as his tail tagged- his father smiled and kissed the pup's forehead, rubbing his back to calm him.

Culbra watched, barely aware that the sight had brought a smile to his face. A tug in his mind caused him to look back to Y'Lara, the feline's warm voice matching her pleasant smile.

This is what I have dreamed of, she told him, her voice whispering in his mind.

"There you go... nothing to worry about, kiddo," Bran said, getting to his feet. "Now let's get you to bed again. You still need to recover from the shock, but it won't be long before we get there. Once we arrive I'll wake you up.

"You're sure we'll be safe?" the pup asked, staring up at his father.

"You remember what I told you about promises, right?"

"That a Jedi doesn't make a promise unless they're gonna keep it."

Bran smiled, picking up the pup in his arms and pressing their noses together as the pup giggled.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to protect you, Kajex."

It was an hour later and Culbra still wasn't asleep.

Y'Lara had gone to bed shortly after Bran had taken the pup back to his room. He could sense that Bran had gone to the cockpit, likely to talk to Kane; while Cable was in the lounge, dozing off. In the time since then, the wolf put his focus towards figuring out what to do and where to go.

As much as he hated admitting it, Bran and Kane were correct- now would not be the best time to approach the Emperor, and it was unlikely there would ever be such a time in the near future. To know that Master Yoda was at least alive and well, if only long enough to give orders to hide, was encouraging- to Culbra, it meant that the Jedi would eventually return to stand against the growing darkness. He would have to be ready, he knew. And he wasn't willing to give up doing his duty as a Jedi, though he understood the need to be subtle; looser with the rules, and ready to run from overwhelming odds.

But you can't do it alone.

He looked up at the doorway, eyes falling on Y'Lara. All at once, his planning ceased.

"I... thought you were asleep," he said softly.

The feline shook her head. "I wasn't. I spent all this time trying to come to a decision. And I'm ready to make one."

The wolf got up, curious. "What decision is that?" he asked.

She hesitated, then took in a steadying breath before approaching him. "I've decided... to be honest with myself."

The wolf gave her a slight frown, worried for her, and she smiled. Before he could react, she'd eliminated the distance between them, sliding her arms around his midsection and meeting her muzzle with his. All sense of time ceased to have any meaning as they kissed, though Culbra knew it took him a matter of moments to return in in full, holding her close to him. His chest roared with heat and emotion, countless days of restrained admiration and affection for the woman in his arms cascading over him in seconds as he gave himself into the feelings of love and desire that he'd denied himself since he was a child.

There was nowhere else he'd rather be, and nobody else he'd rather be with.

She broke the kiss first, looking up to him with a panting smile- one that Culbra could not help matching.

"I... want to be honest too," he said, reaching up to touch her cheek with his paw. "I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

What happened in the minutes that followed was a haze, one that an aroused mind had no care for. All Culbra knew was that they'd gone back to his room, and that they were now completely bare, robes littered in a heap on the floor. He'd kicked off his trousers last, still embracing the completely nude feline and exploring every curve of her body with his paws, their muzzles still locked in a kiss. Y'Lara did nothing to stop him, and everything to encourage him; from the deep purr she gave off, the caress of her paws along his toned body, and the eager, receptive movements in her hips as she slid into his lap, she told him without a word that she wanted everything he wished to experience with her.

Training as a Jedi had not taught them how to relieve their sexual stress; it was a process a Jedi had to learn themselves. But no amount of study was needed for the two to engage in such deep, physical intimacy. As the seconds ticked away and Culbra pushed his lover onto the mattress, instinct and creativity drove his actions forward, teasing the feline with kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, and trailing lower until they reached the smooth, sloped globes of her breasts. The moment his lips touched her bare nipple she chirped loudly, arching her back and clawing into the sheets beneath her. He supported her movements easily, holding her close even as she leaned back and moaned his name.

"Culbra... I feel so warm," she purred. She rolled her hips and buttocks into his lap, her bare cleft grazing against his thick sheath. It reacted in seconds, the ebony tip of his cock spreading the sheath apart, twitching and throbbing with every heartbeat.

He smiled down at her, pressing her lips against her other nipple and making her chirp again. "I've never done this before, Y'Lara- I'm only doing what feels right. Guide me through the Force, if you need to."

He felt her reach out to him, a tendril of thought that yearned for connection- he met it without conflict, sighing as he felt the warmth she was experiencing, the raw desire for something primal and intimate. Discipline alone stayed his efforts only barely, a deep growl of satisfaction vibrating in his chest. Instinct and creativity melded with the feline's raw need, guiding his efforts as he pushed the Togorian onto her back and got on his knees between her legs. Keeping his licks suckling on one of her perfect tits and a using a free paw thumb and pinch the other, he grabbed his cock and began to grind it against her plush netherlips.

Every stroke of his shaft left a pool of precum slathered along the virginal entrance, which trembled each time the tip graze against her clit. Minutes of intense foreplay passed, the wolf teasing his lover with grazing thrusts that threatened to penetrate her cleft, only for his hips to angle away, denying her his cock. Soon, Y'Lara was trembling, her mewls getting louder and desperate as she shifted around, attempting to snare his prick between her swollen mons.

"C-Culbra," she moaned. "I can't take it, please breed me...!"

"Hmm... I don't know," he whispered into her ear with a tone meant to tease her. "We're Jedi, remember. We shouldn't indulge in our lusts, now should we?"

"Please," she whimpered, hiding her face in her paws as she writhed beneath him- through the space between her fingers, he could see a deep red blush. "It's not lust, I love you so much, I-- I've never wanted anything for myself but you--"

He gently put a paw on her lips, halting her words long enough for him to smile and give her a brief, soft kiss. "That changes things, then. If it's love, I can't very well say no."

He denied her no longer, flexing his hips and driving them into his lover; large though he was for his kind, he slid smoothly into her tight cleft, immediately subjected to the gripping velvet folds that gnawed along every inch of his length. He met resistance halfway, but the look in her eyes told him he'd not yet bottomed out. She anticipated the movement, her claws digging into his shoulders as he plowed through the arch with a powerful stroke.

She flinched, and in their bond through the Force Culbra could feel the liberating pain of her womanhood flare in her moist depths, subsiding quickly into a warm bliss that rolled through her belly. The two shivered as one, the wolf finally buried perfectly in his mate, sheath kissing her quivering netherlips as they held the position and kissed again.

It was a swirling mix of emotions and sensations, each individual yet working in tandem with the same goal. From Culbra was the sensation of his cock being gripped and squeezed, making his exit from her body difficult yet satisfying beyond measure; from Y'Lara was the feeling of being filled to core, split apart and made whole by her lover's cock, desperately clinging around his girth as he withdrew and leaving her crevice hungry for more. He slid back in again, easier this time but no less pleasureable, and the feline moaned in need and appreciation. Without little more than a shared conscious thought they moved in tandem, matching each other's movements, rewarded with flaring spikes of ecstasy.

They differed only in their volume. Culbra was quiet, grunting through his growing exertion with only a brief growl as he pistoned his hips faster, instinct telling him that he would not break the woman beneath him. Y'Lara, however, had left behind her meek and gentle nature and was now chirping and crying out in bliss; she sang her pleasure to him, no longer bound by any code to suppress her heart, pouring it out for him without needing to say a word. Years, if not decades, of desire and love guided their voices and actions.

Her legs wrapped around him and he ceased his thrusts, savoring the feel of his throbbing maleness sheathed in her depths; he'd sensed her words before she even said them, the pair panting for a few moments before she spoke.

"W... wait," she mewled. "I want..."

He nodded, cutting her off with a smile- he'd sensed what she wanted already. With a grunt he rolled the both of them around, leaving him on his back while Y'Lara straddled his lap, his cock still buried deep within. In this position he could now see how deep he'd penetrated, a subtle outline in her lower belly. She placed a paw on it, chirping as she pressed down. "It's so... I didn't think you were so... gifted."

The genuine compliment brought a burn to the wolf's ears, but he smiled widely all the same. "I'm not the only one," he pointed out, trailing his paw up her body until they were hefting her beautiful breasts. "It's a shame you had to hide these for so many years." Now she was blushing, though happy for his admiration. She leaned in, kissing his nose and smiled down at him.

"Be still," she whispered. "I'll take it from here."

She moved atop him, legs flexing as she ascended his prick halfway; then released, dropping back down in his lap and chirping as the blow plunged him deeper than before. A brief moment lingered where she could feel the tapered tip of his cock nestled against the entrance to her womb, a shock of hot bliss that made her belly spin in the best way possible. Her fingers clung to the fur on his chest as she shifted and did it again, gasping as she bounced herself on his cock.

Culbra groaned, paws still on her tits and squeezing them to encourage her effort; it stirred her up hard, her hips now clapping into his lap. Every descent speared her lover's prick into untouched territory; every throb of his cock spit another seed-laced shot of precum into her heated cervix, soiling the once-virginal inner walls that seized around his girth; and in each movement they moaned, panted, inhaled, gasped- an erotic language that told them all they needed to hear. In minutes, his balls started to twinge with need, a buildup of tension as they churned and twitched; a strange sensation of need, a mixture of pain and pleasure he'd never been subjected to.

Y'Lara doubled over as her legs burned with exertion, catching herself upright with her paws. It was the perfect position for Culbra, his muzzle only half an inch from her heavy, heaving breasts; before she could catch her breath he had seized her tits, slathering his tongue against the bare pink peaks. A loud mewl poured from her muzzle and she ground her hips into his lap in response, pushing her chest into her face each time she rolled forward. He obliged gladly, his hot breath blasting against her tits, indulging himself even as he continued to buck his hips up into her.

"By the Force," she mewled, arms trembling. "You're like... a cub, suckling at me..."

The wolf pulled back, his heart skipping a beat from the words as she smiled up at her. "How often do you dream of it?"

She swallowed, nuzzling his forehead. "Every time I think of you," she whispered. "Just... give me a second, I need to--"

"You've gotten us this far," he told her, sitting up and kissing her again. "Let me take care of the rest."

"Are you sure?" she purred.

"I'm positive," he chuckled. "I'm a Jedi, I can put some work into it."

"Mmm... maybe we are still Jedi," she sighed, reaching up to her ponytail. "But if we need to change, I think I'll start with this."

With her head leaned to one side she slid away the ring holding her hair in place, a cascade of silver draping over her shoulders like a moonlit curtain, framing her features in a way that Culbra could only describe one way.

"You're beautiful," he said, almost without conscious thought. He brought a paw to her cheek, sharing in one more kiss before he resumed.

He leaned her back once more, putting a paw between her breasts to hold her in place as he pulled out. Panting, the Togorian stared at his glistening cock, stained with a white froth. A shudder passed through both as they realized how potent his seed must be, so thick that it oozed from his tip even as precum. But Culbra did not let the thought linger much longer; he grabbed Y'Lara's legs and rolled her up onto her stomach, grabbing her from behind and onto her knees.

"C-Culbra, what--"

"Trust me," he growled gently into her ear, pressing his lips against the side of her neck.

She did not resist as he spread her legs apart, guiding his cock with one paw until it was square against her pussy once again. With a groan he sheathed himself back into her body, shuddering as he felt his knot starting to swell. She mewled and pushed back into his hips, savoring the feel of his thick wolfhood throbbing against her womb; when he finally began to move, spearing his length through her quivering folds, she could do nothing but chirp in bliss and meet his movements, falling forward and offering her rump to him. Between them was an unspoken, telepathic thought- that when he finished, there was only one place his seed could go.

"I'll make it reality," the wolf growled, nuzzling against her silky hair.

Every second brought their bodies together, hips cracking against her supple ass; every second ended with his balls clapping mercilessly against her clit, sending jolts of molten-hot bliss zapping through her belly; every second made his balls ache harder, an incredible pressure behind his knot that extended to the back of his heavy sack. Nothing, not even the steady swell of Culbra's knot, lessened his pace as he bred the woman he loved. The burn in his loins was almost unbearable by now, spiking every time he drilled his thick wolfcock into her folds, sapping away at his endurance such that he found himself instinctively calling out to the Force to hold out just a little longer.

Y'Lara mewled once more, a song-like note of bliss as she succumbed first. A splash of nectar poured out around Culbra's cock, her inner walls fluttering and massaging around the flesh as she experienced her first mind-shattering orgasm. Tears rolled down her face as she twitched and jerked beneath him, unable to cope with the sheer ecstasy of sexual release; and so when Culbra lifted her up into his lap, she did nothing to resist when he turned her head and kissed her deeply, breaking off only to howl victoriously as he thrust one last time and knotted his mate.

There was nowhere to go, no means to undo what would happen next. A wave of searing-hot bliss ran up Culbra's spine and through his balls as they drew up against his body, visibly twitching as a cocktail of puppy-batter mixed in his loins. For a moment if felt as if his entire length had expanded, a surge running down the 'neath of his cock as a torrent of spunk channeled through the organ. It was punctuated with a shudder, the wolf gasping as the first blast of cum shot from his buried prick, splashing against Y'Lara's cervix; the next shot was aimed true, funneling into the feline's unguarded womb and filling her to capacity within the next shot.

But it did not stop. Neglect of sex had rendered his seed potent and powerful, the alabaster output rich and thick- and copious. Y'Lara gasped as she could be filled no further, mewling as her tunnel accommodated the excess only until her belly could support no more. What remained oozed out from around the wolf's ebony knot, a pool of his seed and her nectar staining the sheets between their legs.

It wasn't until the flow ebbed away into nothing that Y'Lara spoke, running a paw along the subtle curve of her belly. "It's... so much," she whispered.

In unison the pair rolled to their side, Culbra still knotted deep in his mate. Neither said a word as they shared in the afterglow, the wolf placing a paw just below the feline's navel, breathing into her neck, committing the moment to memory.

For the galaxy he was in, he swore would hold on to that memory for the rest of his life.

Minutes passed before he had recovered enough strength to lean over her, turning her head and kissing her once more. He broke off the kiss, summoning as much strength as he could to endure what he was going to do next- something a lifetime of training hadn't prepared him to do.

"Y'Lara," he panted, cupping her face. "I... I love you."

The feline's eyes sparkled up at him, genuine joy and love for him glinting in the dim light. "I love you, too," she purred softly. "I... I only wish we'd..."

He nodded, smiling back. "More time," he finished for her. "I think Bran was right, we've been Jedi so long we... we're barely able to handle something like this. Even if we've secretly wanted it for so long."

She nuzzled into his neck. "I felt it, you know... when you were injured on Felucia," she told him softly. "Masters and students are supposed to be the only ones to feel each other's passing, but even with all the pain from losing everyone else... I felt your pain alone more keenly than the others."

Culbra's ears flattened sadly, and he wondered if she was no longer receptive. "I was thinking about you," he offered, nuzzling back. "As much pain as I was in, I felt at peace just having known you. And in the end, you helped save me." He nuzzled her cheek. "Bran is right- this isn't the end. We just... have to value what we have left."

She nodded, settling into his arms. "I know that you won't want to stay- or for me to go with you."

He sighed, but nodded. "Bran was also right about Jedi gathering. Right now, us being in a group puts us all at risk. And even though I know you can take care of yourself, I'm not going to take that risk."

"Alone?"

"Well, I'm hoping Cable will come with me," he said.

She merely smiled and pressed her nose against his.

"Promise me, at least, that if you should ever need me, you will seek out."

The wolf smiled back. "You have my word."

It was three days later and the ship was finally in Trianii space, having settled in a slow but medium-sized starport in the city of Denhaven, on the harvest planet of Ekibo. It had taken a day for Kane to gather up civilian attire for everyone on the ship, as none of the Jedi wished to risk being spotted in Jedi robes. In that time, Culbra, Y'Lara and Cable had discussed what they intended to do, and although Bran was not particularly happy that they would be splitting up he understood he could not force them to stay.

They now stood beneath the Rushin' Roulette, both Culbra and Cable slinging traveling bags over their shoulders. The wolf looked over the rest of them: Bran and Kane, and their son Kajex; and Y'Lara, who was now wearing her hair free. The wolf stepped forward and offered his paw to Bran.

"I don't think I ever got to properly thank you for saving my life," he said. "And I doubt I'll ever be able to repay you for getting us all this far."

"I was never the ideal Jedi, not to the council," Bran replied warmly, "but it was the right thing to do. We lost so many, that it's a blessing just to have a single one of us survive. Just... whatever you intend to do, make it worth it- and come out of it alive."

"I will."

Kane stepped forward, shaking Culbra's paw- then slipping a credit chip into his palm. "This is for you."

The wolf blinked, staring at it. "What's this?"

"Call it a... contribution," the Trianii grinned.

"I... can't take money from you," Culbra sighed. "I'm sure your family will need it more."

"Nah, we'll be fine," Kane assured him with the wave of a paw. "Besides, it's not our money- I funneled money from the newly-established Empire using a few slicing tricks."

The wolf opened his muzzle to protest- then sighed, smiling. "I suppose I'll consider it compensation for the injuries they gave me. And I will need funding. Very well."

"Just don't go blowing it all in one place," the Trianii advised. "Make good use of it."

He nodded, then looked to the pup between them both, his golden eyes peering curiously at the much older canine. "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk, young one," Culbra offered, crouching down. "I feel like I would have offered advice for the times ahead."

"It's... gonna be different," the pup acknowledged.

"It will," Culbra agreed. "But that means your path is open, too. So whatever you choose to do with your life, I hope you make it worthwhile."

"I will," the pup smiled. "Be safe, Master Culbra."

He stood and turned to Y'Lara, ready to speak- but was cut off by her shaking her head and smiling.

"You don't need to say anything, Culbra. I know why you're doing this."

"I know you do," he said. "But that's not what I was going to say."

Before she could ask what was on his mind, he stepped forward; in one smooth motion he slid his arms around her, pressed his muzzle against hers, and put every word he meant to say in a single action. The feline purred, embracing the man she loved. The tendril of emotion flickered between them again; and though they each felt the ache of sadness, borne by the knowledge that they would need to part, the warmth of love and hope was a more potent salve.

They held to each other for what seemed like hours, though only a minute passed before they broke apart. The wolf nuzzled her. "I love you, Y'Lara. I will see you again."

"I love you too, Culbra," she told him. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you."

He released her, taking in a deep breath and stepping back. There was nothing left for them to say, they knew- there was only the path forward. Both Culbra and Cable offered a final farewell, stopping at the hatch exiting Hangar 7 only to wave, then passing through.

They were gone.

For a few moments there was silence, until the youngest of them spoke.

"So... why did he leave?" Kajex asked. "You said it would be safe here."

"It is," Bran assured him. "But it was still his choice. I don't think I'll ever understand it, myself."

Y'Lara turned to the family, wiping her eyes but still holding a genuine smile across her muzzle.

"I know that you are a Sentinel, Bran, and in many ways I think your path is vital- perhaps moreso than any other path a Jedi can take. But Culbra is a Jedi Guardian, taught to fight injustice and evil when possible. He believes in the Jedi Order, and in the Force- and in doing the right thing because he has the power to do it." She cast her gaze to them. "He's not restricted anymore by the council; he'll devote his time to helping others who have been neglected by the Republic. This is an opportunity for him to do all he can for the galaxy."

Bran frowned. "What about you?"

"I'll always love him, and I'll be there for him when he work is done," she said proudly, running a paw along her stomach with a sigh. "But I must walk a different path."

Kane stared at her, looking to her paw. "Are you...?"

She nodded. "I am."

Kajex looked to either of them, confused. "Um... is she what now?"

The feline laughed, blushing. "I'm carrying his child, little one."

The pup brightened. "Ohhh, okay! But then why's Master Culbra leaving instead of staying with you?"

Y'Lara hesitated, unsure. It was Kane who spoke before she did.

"He doesn't know, does he?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I believe that his goal is important," she said. "And because if..." She stopped short, taking a calming breath. "I believe I will see him again. But if he should fail, or be captured... I don't want the Emperor to know about our child. He will no doubt torture any Jedi he captures to find the rest of us, if he can." There was pain in her features, slight but clear. "I did not want to burden him with that knowledge."

"I don't know if it was the right choice," Bran said softly, "but I can understand it." He cocked his head. "You're sure, though? I've never known Togorians and Shistavanen to be capable of interbreeding."

"I don't know how," she answered honestly, still smiling. "But I saw her- my daughter. His daughter."

"When did you see this?" Bran pressed.

At this, the Togorian jerked upright, blushing harder. "Ah, well... during a private moment," she said quickly.

Bran and Kane traded looked, then laughed. "Ah... well, not to needle you for anything," Kane chuckled, "but if privacy was what you two were going for, you didn't get much of it."

She blinked. "I... what?"

"We didn't think it would be an issue, that you two would be getting intimate and all so soon, but sound kinda has a tendency to carry through the ship," Bran explained with a sheepish smile. "Your first night together, you woke up Kajex and the three of us decided to pass the time watching a holovid on the other side of the ship."

"Oh my goodness," Y'Lara said, laughing nervously. "I-I didn't know!"

"Look, it's your business," Kane said gently. "But we're happy for you. If this is really what you both feel, that it's the best possible choice to make, then we'll accept that." The Trianii looked her over. "So... what about you? We still haven't talked about where you want to go or what to do."

Y'Lara nodded, then considered. "If you don't mind my presence, I'd like to stay a little while. Maybe help you set something up to get you income. When I find a place safe enough to give birth to my daughter and raise her safely, we can part."

"If you'd like," Bran said with a smile. "Our home is yours for as long as you need it."

"Thank you," the feline beamed. "In that case, I think I may head in and get a meal started. I better learn to cook if I expect to provide for my child."

Kane led her into the ship, leaving Bran and Kajex in the hangar; the pup was scratching behind his ear, a sign Bran recognized that he was trying to figure something out. He leaned in, giving the back of the pup's ear a rub and eliciting a surprised bark from him, before he leaned into his dad.

"What's on your mind, kiddo?" Bran asked with a smile.

"I dunno, I'm still confused about how Master Y'Lara knows she's pregnant," he admitted with a frown. "Do Jedi know when they're pregnant?"

Bran laughed. "There aren't many Jedi who can say that for sure- except Corellian Jedi," he added.

"Do they know when life starts?" the pup pressed, looking up to his father.

Bran shook his head, smiling patiently. "'Life' doesn't begin, son. It's shared, coalesced into another form shaped from two people; parents who, hopefully, love each other very much. In most cases, they won't 'know' when that life has formed- unless they can feel the Force. The moment that union happens, if you know what to look out for, you will feel it." He tousled the pup's hair. "I hope someday, you get to experience it for yourself."

The pup cocked his head. "What will it feel like?"

Bran chuckled and stood, then led Kajex up the ramp with a hand still petting his ears.

"Like a rush in the Force."

_ Epilogue _

The jungles of Felucia were quieter now than they had been in recent weeks, with parts of the world now stripped of much of its fungal flora and feral fauna. The Republic's total victory over the Confederacy was, to those living comfortably in the Core world, the end of the war and the beginning of peace. For those serving the newly-established Empire, however, the work continued. An abundance of resources awaited those willing to profit from Imperial subservience. Already, the planet was being mapped out by surveyors and adventurers eager to make credits. With no enemy left to fight, most of the clone troopers were relegated to scouting known Separatist locations, in the event that they would return.

Those who did not, however, served dark purposes- and darker masters.

The figure leading the clones through the jungle strode forward without a trace of concern on his face, his cold eyes peering into the waning darkness ahead. While one attuned to the Force could feel the fear and chill of the dark side oppressing their every step, this figure did not move with such a burden. He breathed in, a small smile on his face as he relished in the sensation of death that enveloped the area. A flicker, a brief surge of that energy seemed to pulse out up ahead.

A moment later, a blood-curdling scream tore through the air.

The troops behind him faltered for a few moments before resuming, where the dark figure did not, his pace as steady as it had been before; none could see the smile he wore as they stepped into the open into a massive chasm, an ancient abyss lined with teeth and tendrils. At the other side of the chasm was a makeshift camp, its illumination dampened by the vapor rising from the pit. At its center was a long tent, and to either side of its entrance stood a heavily-armed, black-armored clone commando, their visors following the dark-robed figure as he approached.

They raised their weapons. "Identify yourself."

The figure smirked and lifted his hood, revealing his pale human face; his eyes were of a cruel blue, like that of a frozen corpse, his face sharp-featured, and his graying black hair styled like that of a Jedi lorekeeper. But it could not be clearer to those present that the man standing before them was no Jedi, and despite his calm voice they could all sense, if only subconciously, the power that he wielded.

"Inquisitor Voyde," he told them in a cold voice, and both commandos lowered their weapons. "The Emperor received your report. You have found the acolyte?"

"Yes, sir," one of them replied. "Previous orders were to execute on sight, but new orders are to keep him alive until you arrived to interrogate."

"What is his status?"

"He suffered multiple bone fractures, as well as significant chemical burns from his immersion in the sarlaac's digestive tract. He was violent upon extraction and killed three of our men, but was sedated and treated to keep him stabilized. The beast is being fed at eight-hour intervals to keep it docile, we will be safe until we need to move out. Once executed, he's to be thrown to the sarlaac."

"There will be no need," Voyde informed them, holding up his hand. "The Emperor has graciously decided to offer amnesty to the fiend."

At that, the tent guards traded looks. "He's being pardoned?"

"He is, as many of us were, a victim of Jedi meddling," Voyde explained gravely. "His power may yet be utilized for the benefit of the Empire and our Emperor. The Inquisitorious will see to it that he is rehabilitated."

"Very well, sir," the commando acknowledged. "The prisoner may be awake, if you'd like to question him."

Voyde gestured to them for entry, the pair stepping aside and allowing him in while his armed escort stayed outside. Several people in researcher attire looked up at him, but those who would have greeted him went silent as he strode past them. At the back was a lone medical table, a partially disrobed Anzat male writhing against the shackled bolting him down. As they neared, Voyde could hear the muffled hollering coming from the figure, a gag-mask limiting him to incoherent sounds of rage and violence. The personnel around him dispersed and scurried away from the Inquisitor, giving him more than enough space as he stopped a few meters away.

The moment the Anzat spotted Voyde, all sense of struggle disappeared. Where once was an expression of rage was now an expression of wonder.

Voyde smirked. "They told me you were dead, Zakras. But even I knew better."

The figure struggled again, growling menacingly.

"Very well, as long as you promise not to make a fuss," Voyde sighed. With a gesture, the gag loosened and clattered to the table. "Sedated as you are, your connection to the Force poses little threat to me."

Zakras Jerron's expression, if it could be called that, was nothing short of murderous, and made no better given his injuries. Much of his lips had been seared away, his teeth more deteriorated and pointed, his ears mutilated into fine points, and his eye vessels having burst, leaving him with crimson eyes that almost seemed to glow. His skin was pocked with acidic scars, healed over haphazardly by the application of kolto.

"You. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for a report from you," Voyde replied. "But as most of the details were provided by others, it is no longer needed. You eliminated the Jedi you were meant to bait, while the second was killed by his own troops. It may not feel like it, but you succeeded- and survived."

"For all the good it does for me!" Zakras spat, staring down at his scarred body. "That dog... because of him I'm... he mutilated me!"

"Calm yourself," Voyde advised. "I just told you he was ki--"

"HE'S NOT DEAD!!!" Zakras howled in rage. "I WOULD HAVE FELT HIS DEATH IF HE HAD, AND I DIDN'T!!!"

Voyde's brow furrowed. "… Curious."

"What is?!" Zakras snapped, struggling against his binders.

"I sense that you're speaking the truth," Voyde said simply. "Jedi assume that the only bond through the Force that exists is one forged between a master and a student, but old Sith records have suggested that a powerful bond may also exist for those carrying pure hatred in their hearts."

"I'll kill him," the Anzat hissed. "No... I'll make him suffer a hundred lifetime before I kill him. There will be no inch of the galaxy where he can hide!"

"Ease your obsession," Voyde said coldly. "That rage will give you strength, but it must be directed, focused. And you will not find him alone."

"I will if I must!"

"But you won't," Voyde cut him off. With another gesture, the table's shackles released. Again, the Anzat ceased his struggled, jerking his head back to Voyde. For a few moments he regarded the human with confusion, before slowly sitting back up and rubbing at his wrists.

"Explain yourself."

"You've not been informed of the Emperor's victory," Voyde told him. "The Republic is now the Galactic Empire, under the leadership of our Emperor Palpatine. The Jedi Order is dead, reduced only to a handful of survivors that even now are being hunted and eliminated." He folded his arms. "But you say that Culbra Krurr, the knight who defeated you, is still alive. If that is still the case, then the only way you will be able to take your vengeance is by joining us."

"Joining you?" Zakras repeated.

"As a member of the Inquisitorious, you will be the first to know when information on him is obtained. As long as you perform what other tasks are expected of us, you will be the first to be assigned to eliminate him when he is found." Vodye raised a finger to him. "If you refuse, however, the Emperor will have no choice but to have you executed for your previous crimes."

"Under his direction," Zakras growled.

"It matters not to him; it only matters whether you are a thread in his grand design, or a loose end to be sheared," Voyde warned. "You've lived this long. You will doubtless make a choice that keeps you alive longer."

Zakras said nothing, staring at Voyde for almost a minute before turning away. "I will do as the Emperor commands."

"Of course you will," Voyde nodded.

"But know this, Voyde," Zakras said, holding up a finger. "I will be the one to end Culbra Krurr's life. If I discover you or anyone else holding information from me, I will rend the entire universe apart- starting with you. And it will only end when he is dead."

Voyde laughed, but nodded. "As you say... Inquisitor Jerron."