Drake remembered why he thought that, despite all the regrettable events that had separated them, Daen was doing alright with this bunch of unruly people.

The transport from which they had planned to disembark at their objective was sturdy enough to crash into a permacrete wall. Which happened, not without reminiscing for Drake and Nial the way they sacked the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, years ago. Armed and pumped up with battle adrenaline, two fully suited mercenaries jumped off the ramp and started shooting at whomever. Drake had his blaster out and took part in the effort to disrupt opposition, spraying from left to right. There was a dozen or more pirates in what looked like a hangar similar to Mak Cera's.

Beside Drake stood Nial, back in his Sith uniform, was standing ready with his lightsaber out.

"Cargo or not," he said, "this is my kind of retrieval mission."

Mak grabbed one wounded henchman by the collar and screamed at his face, as if the muzzle of his weapon wasn't persuading enough.

"The weapons. Sharta. Go!"

The man pointed a shaky hand towards a double hinged door and Mak dropped him so he could bleed out in peace. Daen positioned herself near the door, kicked it open and slammed the stock of her rifle into a running Rodian's face. She was completely in her action-cop zone. Drake smiled, feeling relieved for his mask so that others wouldn't see his expression, and so she wouldn't get distracted by him. They all proceeded into the narrow hallway in search for the cargo, or the Sharta person Mak was so eager to find.

"I swear on my own grave I will make that whore pay," growled Mak.

Drake wondered what was the issue with that person but kept his curiosity under wraps for the time being. Mercenaries, smugglers and pirates always were in some kind of feud with each other. Wars fueled competition and good business. The group soon approached the end of the hallway.

"No remaining guards," Daen said, bringing up a holographic map from her gauntlet display. "This is the main room, she has to be there."

It was far too quiet for Drake's taste.

"Scary guys," called Mak, turning towards him and Nial. "Sensing anything of interest?"

Taking a slow, deep breath Drake closed his eyes to let his Force remote-viewing skill take effect through the armored blast-doors ahead.

"Ten individuals," he replied. "They're planning an ambush."

"But the cargo is not there," added Nial.

"First things first." Mak walked up to the steel-plated doors and inspected its control panel carefully. "If this is a trap, why would they barricade themselves in? I think they're trying to escape."

"Then let's blow this bad boy," said Daen, reaching for a charge in her backpack.

Drake saw Nial moving up to the door as well, and motioned for Mak to step aside.

"Allow me."

He stood merely five feet away from the huge durasteel panels, going deep in concentration, so intensely focused that Drake sensed the Force rippling.

"What's he doing?" Daen asked Drake, not without a hint of worry in her voice.

"Showing off."

The metal was starting to move and tear with disturbing whines and screams under the pressure.

"Remember when they said you couldn't bend durasteel with the Force?" said Nial, almost with his teeth clenched.

Mak shook his helmet. "Not the kind of plan I'd imagined."

"It would go faster if you'd just cut around it with your lightsaber," Drake told Nial.

"I know, friend. But I can sense their fear growing... Get ready."

Drake joined in his effort with a last blow to push the door in. The noise was threatening enough to scare a Rancor and if the pirates weren't gone by now they were probably busy setting up a trap in there.

When the breach was complete, dust filled the hallway and they could only hear faint coughing and concrete rubble falling on the ground.

Show time.

Drake ignited his lightsaber almost at the same time as Nial did, two bright red glowing shafts that immediately drew enemy fire upon them. Ten blaster rifles against two Sith, reflecting every bolt and sometimes bouncing them back to their shooter. They couldn't stand a chance, Daen and Mak wouldn't even need to fire their own weapons.

When the dust settled Drake saw that he was batting off laser shots from mostly male humans but he spotted a red-haired female in the back of the room, hiding behind a pillar, tapping something on her gauntlet-mounted computer. That was Sharta, most likely. He charged a man wearing a chest harness and torn up trousers that was cooking a detonator, sliced through him and cut the grenade in half. His Trandoshan friend, startled to see Drake suddenly close, brought his blaster pistol up but not fast enough, and got his noseless face punched in by a spiked Sith glove.

Most of the henchmen had gone down from ricochet when Mak and Daen stepped in, and it was just Sharta left in her corner while Nial was taking care of one last bodyguard. The man with paramilitary gear was floating in mid-air, hands up to his neck, franticly trying to pull away from an invisible choker.

Drake turned away from the scene and walked up to the woman, using his lightsaber as a search light in that dark space she was sitting in. Despite being the head of a powerful little pirate gang, she didn't seem very courageous, or even strong at all.

"P-p-please!" she said as soon as Drake stood over her. "Don't kill me!... I have three children-"

"My ass," shot out Mak. "Quit being such a lying piece of crap and show yourself, Sharta!"

She had greenish gray eyes, lovely face, probably a little bit over forty, and sat with a confused expression when she heard Mak's voice. The man arrived beside Drake, blaster rifle aimed at Sharta with clear intentions.

"Take us to your treasure room," he said sardonically.

Pinned down and out of options, the smuggling competitor now in restraining cuffs lead them to a vast inventory of goods. Drake immediately spotted the five weapon crates still sitting on a repulsor lift. Nial inspected the cargo with his datapad and nodded to signal that it was all there.

"Not quite what you expected to get into, is it?" said Mak.

"You know the rules, darling. We take the money, we don't ask questions. We won't even open the box."

"Time to bring these babies back home," said Nial, pressing the command buttons on the lift's pad.

In a matter of minutes, with the help of a strategically placed boarding ramp at the roof of the storage hangar, they were all aboard a modified freighter ship hovering menacingly close to the ground. They managed to get all of the crates to fit in the cargo hold and the ship was airborne before planetary police forces were onto them. Yet, something didn't feel right for Drake. He stood with Nial in the hold of the merc ship and finished inspecting the last of the special issue weapons they'd gone so far to retrieve.

"This isn't over," Drake thoughtfully spoke.

"You know what this means, brother. This world needs to be shown a lesson, and dare I say that we got here just in time."

"Why does it always come down to politics with you?"

"Why not? You do politics all the time. In a mundane, unrefined kind of way but you still do."

"I'm not ready to take a whole system by myself."

A mischievous smile was obvious in Nial's tone. "Not by yourself, you have me. And once we're done here you'll be free to return to your slums and cut-throat gangs while I relish in my new kingdom."

Nial got his datapad out and casually sat on a crate. Drake allowed him some time alone and joined the rest of the crew back in the main quarters. Lodius Cera, his unofficial business partner and now pilot of the freighter ship, looked at him and they greeted each other with a nod. They both had to get this quickly over with before getting back to their urgent matters on Coruscant.

In the mean time, their newest guest with her hands tied in her back, was sitting quietly while everyone seemed to think of what was to happen to her. Drake looked down at Sharta and took her chin between his fingers. She defiantly pulled away with white marks on her face, but that simple touch was enough for him to understand.

"There was no money for you," he said with a smirk. "This is personal, am I wrong?"

"I've got nothing to say to your kind, Sith."

"My, my..." Mak came closer to look at her trembling lips and glassy eyes. "Well, I'm not surprised that a sellout like you would give in to the local propaganda."

Sharta quit trying to hide her emotions and spat back at him. "Same as you. At least I'm doing my part for the greater good."

Mak sighed audibly and spun around in disgust, Daen simply scoffed under her helmet. But Drake understood Sharta's intentions, however foolish and reckless she was about them.

"People are expecting you somewhere at some point," he said in a steady voice, building his strategy as he spoke. "If you truly care about the greater good you would avoid the Republic at all cost, and find a new line of work that doesn't involve interfering with us."

Somehow those words triggered a tear to roll down her stoic face, then she collapsed to the ground and sobbed. Even Daen seemed perplexed.

"You have a way with women..."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" added her foster father. "Good thing I cut our deal short when I had the chance, Sharts. You're even crazier than I remember."

Suddenly Daen took a knee and slung her blaster around her back to grab Sharta by the shoulders in a comforting yet firm grip.

"Come now, let's get you some privacy. Crazy girl."

Drake followed them into a small room. Somehow the thought of her alone with Sharta was a bad idea. Daen placed the woman on a cot and gave her a blanket. She stood in front of her for a couple of seconds and shrugged at Drake. They both closed the door on Sharta and Daen removed her helmet. She took a deep breath and brushed a strand of sweaty black hair from her face.

"What the hell just happened?"

They were joined by Mak and Lodius. Drake, following Daen's example to pull off his mask, just decided to blurt out what he knew.

"We got ourselves the future mother of a Jedi-to-be. And at her age it doesn't look like she'll have another chance at breeding naturally." He looked at the door as if it was see-through. "She's a Force-sensitive magnet right now, better not drop her off anywhere near us."

Mak didn't even try to contain his laughter. Daen simply looked horrified.

"What are you going to do about her?... it?"

The thought of her not agreeing with him made him hesitate. He tried not to rely on his training, it would make him take the more brutally honest approach and that was usually Nial's part.

"I guess that now she's worth a lot more alive than dead," he said, trying not to sound too calculating.

"Bummer," replied Mak. "Was looking forward to some payback."

Drake wanted to expedite the problem, perhaps even jettison Sharta out the airlock because then he could return to Coruscant and back to his usual business. Then he looked at Daen and she seemed troubled like he'd never seen her before. He somehow knew that if he reached out to her with the Force – emotionally – she wouldn't be there. Whenever he felt vulnerable he would turn to anger, hatred, dark places... and she had her own defense mechanism that he couldn't hack into.

Soon enough they were off-planet, blasting away at light speed heading for Coruscant. Drake emerged from the refreshers having discarded part of his armor and his cloak, his face still humid with the cold recycled water he'd splashed over it. A table was set in the main lobby. Dinner time. This was almost alien to him, eating dinner at the same time as other people.

Daen and Mak were already there, and Lodius appeared with a pot of something hot and smelling delicious. He was Umbaran. To say that there weren't many of his kind around was a huge understatement. If Drake read his data correctly, Umbarans were not allowed to leave their homeworld, ever. It was a cultural thing. And somehow this one "child of the night", as they were called, had ended up among a small group of Mandalorians.

"Someone explain to me why there is a washed-up redhead traitor in my quarters," he muttered, pouring a strange-looking grub in a small plate and handing it to Mak.

"She was having a fit and was bringing everyone down. When she's gone just remember to get a new mattress."

"I think you need to check your human biology again," Daen remarked. "She doesn't even look pregnant."

Nial stared disapprovingly into the bowl of mash placed before him. His black-inked blue face made the unemotional Lodius appear more friendly by comparison.

"I hope you don't call yourself a chef," he said. "I think I'll bring this to our expecting guest who could be hungry."

With that he stood and brought the food out to the sleeping quarters. They all looked at him leave, probably wondering what he was really up to, but Drake didn't have the heart to stop him and ask. The grub was actually tasty despite appearances. It was a mix of main course and dessert, though.

Lodius sat down and started eating as well, munching mechanically while staring at Drake. He wasn't used to seeing the bounty hunter without his helmet on, and direct eye contact was unsettling because of his bright blue eyes. He'd seen him in action so he wasn't without knowing that the Umbaran was able to veer people's judgment and thoughts with a psychic trick.

"What?" Drake snapped at his former partner. His mind was impossible to read.

"Tessan has asked me to invite you to our family dinner party. Consider yourself booked for the next couple of weeks."

"Couldn't she have told me herself yesterday at the shop?"

"What my mother does and the reasons why she does them are completely beyond me."

The two other Ceras laughed.

"It means you're going to be part of the family, kid." Mak smiled kindly, at odds with his tough brow and jaw.

His eyes went to look at Daen, still in a distant state of mind, and she didn't say anything.

"I'd be honored," was all that Drake could say without letting too much of his happiness show.

Lodius took a sip of water before clearing his throat.

"We deal with this unfinished business we have on Coruscant. I don't care what happens to the crazy pregnant female."

Ah, yes. The other woman that was causing trouble for Drake in the first place still need to be put under control. That kind of suspicious behavior among young Sith adepts could jeopardize his lifestyle. There would be no family dinner.

Nial came back to the table and poured himself a glass of water, grabbed a handful of dry crackers and looked around.

"I had to stay and watch the prisoner in case she wanted to choke herself with the utensils."

A silence filled the room as Nial ate the crispy bread, a bored look on his tattooed face. Drake looked across the table towards Lodius.

"She doesn't get off the ship until we're done with our business on Coruscant. I don't want to find myself explaining to the Sith how we stumbled upon the unborn child of a Jedi from Ord Mantell."

Later on, Daen was on the command deck with Lodius and Mak, chatting quietly amongst each other. Drake felt very much intruding when they spun their heads to see the doors part on him.

"Hey," she said. "We're not getting any faster, you better take a nap."

It sounded like a wonderful idea, immediately he pictured himself lying beside her in total bliss. He waved the thought away before it turned into a need. As he was about to speak, Mak and Lodius had their predating eyes on him in a typical protective way of Daen. He gave up, and made a hesitating hand gesture to get her to follow him. She opened her mouth in a mixed expression and complied, there weren't many places for them to go besides the corridors anyway.

"Weird day, huh?" said Daen, hands in her pockets. When she'd peel off her armor and with her hair still wet from a recent shower, his eyes lingered more than he'd usually let them.

"We got what we came for, and then some. We're not entirely sure what's to become of Sharta."

"Please tell me you're not just letting her go."

He arched an eyebrow. "What did she do to your father exactly?"

"She got a lot of our personal stuff sold off to mercs in the outer rim. A greedy bitch she is and always will be. I don't care that she's got a bun in the oven, she's not getting off so easily even after all these years. I was just a kid then but it really got to us. Good thing mom was around, dad wouldn't have gotten over losing his first kit of beskar to some punk..."

"We'll think of something, don't worry. But I think Nial wants to get his hands on the Jedi responsible for the pregnancy."

She shrugged. "Another Jedi hunt. I'm in."

He breathed in deeply before touching her cheek. She still seemed troubled and wouldn't share her feelings with him.

"What's wrong?" she said, waving his hand away.

Drake paused to weigh his options, perhaps withholding his doubts and concerns were a good alternative.

"You and I should take a break from this. I want to know what's going on in that head of yours, get to know your family and live by your side for a change."

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that." She blushed slightly, and looked towards the cockpit. "I thought you didn't like thieves and scoundrels?"

Hesitating, he paused for a moment. "I was a little harsh, I admit."

Daen looked him in a way that expressed more than just skepticism or why can't you just say what you mean? And it was intimidating. Impatiently, she blew air through her nostrils and pushed herself from against the bulkheads to walk down the corridors. Drake followed her until they were in a secluded space, the crew member room with multiple cots which could serve as a holding cell but he didn't give it more thought.

"Okay, now we can talk," he said, taking one step away from her. "Why are you nervous? Is it because of Nial?"

"No," she replied. "Well, not just that.."

Her eyes averted from him and her arms were still crossed. Whatever Drake had done or said wasn't causing this, he sensed there was something bothering her.

"Your family doesn't seem to mind having Sith around... If I decline the dinner invitation, will it make you feel better?"

"Please, don't." She focused back on him, a hopeful look on her face. "I'm looking forward to it, actually."

"Then, what is it?"

He touched her arms hoping to get a grasp of her feelings. Her lower lip trembled for a micro-second. Drake had known her to suppress her feelings at times, and this was the wrong time. Her cheeks were warm as he held her face. The passion he felt through her was infuriating, so much that he couldn't put words on the mixture of emotions rushing through his brain. Head to head, they breathed the same air for a few seconds and Daen spoke barely loud enough.

"I don't ever want to lose you."

Obviously he knew that already but she needed reassurance, something he couldn't give her if he wanted to stay realistic. His life and hers were dangerous ones but he had always known that kind of risk. On the other hand, she had enjoyed security and comfort for the first half of her existence. Then her parents both suddenly disappeared... She couldn't handle losing him as well.

Drake gave her a kiss and they hugged for as long as they sensibly could. Her expression was more relaxed when he looked at her again. For how long could they go on living with the fear of separation?

"It's not easy being near you," she said with a resigned tone, "and I'm not making it easy for you either."

"You need to work on that. There's only so much I can do to understand when you lock up on me." He lifted her chin up with a finger. "Tell me what you want."

She heavily sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I want... you not to be a Sith anymore."

As much as she was a free spirit and a vagrant, his allegiance was to the Empire and the Order. What ever decisions he made were never for his sake but for the work he did on Coruscant. He couldn't give up his powers and simply turn his back on the Sith. He'd be labeled a traitor, hunted down. Then executed, of course.

Holding her arms, he prepared to disappoint her yet again.

"We've been over this... So, aside from that we can work something out together. After I finish with Lodius we can take some shore leave, what do you think?"

"Sounds very nice but do they ever let you go on a break at the Slave Academy?"

He decided to ignore her sarcasm.

"I'll let Nial cover for me. He's been waiting to take the credit in my place for a year."

"And you believe he would do that for us?"

"Nial might be a sociopath but he's a friend. I'll find a way to convince him and I know that, deep down, he wants what we have."

Her smile came back and she affectionately touched his chest. She opened her mouth to say something but Drake couldn't repress an urge to let her know how he felt.

"You're what keeps me going, Daen. I'm strong because of you and not because of the Force, or what the Sith taught me."

"I- why should I believe you? We barely spend time together, and you become more and more distant every time I see you."

"Don't do this," he said, his vision got blurry. What proof did she need to see that he loved her? "I need you in my life."

"Then we don't need time off. Raising suspicion, hiding... There are too many people out to get you and I can't live in your shadow anymore. If you love me..." Daen took a breath, and he saw a tear roll down her face. "If you love me you won't make me wait around for you."

She tried to pull away but Drake couldn't let go of her hand. Looking up, her eyes widened with fear.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. "You need time to really think this through."

He felt like a sting in his chest as he tried to speak but he had to hurry. If he kept her captive it would make her feel worse. They would have another chance to talk.

"Okay," he replied obediently.

But he wouldn't change his mind; all he ever thought about was her, every day that passed without her felt like an eternity. And when they were together they were afraid to spoil the moment, to come off too intense to each other or to become possessive. He had to find a way to be with her more often, he had faith that eventually he would get what he deserved.