Author's Notes: Thanks again for everyone's reviews! Honestly, I had thought this chapter was ready to go a couple weeks ago. Then, as I read through it for a proofreading session, I saw far too many holes and couldn't release it. Sorry for the delay it's caused, but I couldn't – in good faith – post something that was only half done.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

Disclaimer: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

Chapter 25

The responsibility of the palace guardian is solely for the preservation of the royal bloodline. Many before you have sacrificed everything, including their own lives in order to ensure harm does not befall the royal family. Before taking the same oath that our ancestors had, you must be certain that the time for questions and hesitation is long past. Provided that you are willing to accept the potential that your life may be sacrificed for your leaders, please step forward and recite the oath to your sovereign that will finalize your commencement to a palace guardian.
Excerpt from the palace guardian inauguration ceremony

87 Days after Order 66
Tochin Moon III

Chora Wsau scrolled through the datapad that contained the latest inventory to be received. It wasn't the kind of job she had been trained to do, but it wasn't difficult and it kept her busy. She had never anticipated that after graduating from months of rigorous physical and mental training and spending years in his majesty's service that she would end up confined to some flimsi-novel shop. Balancing budget ledgers and maintaining inventories amounted to meaningless work in her eyes, especially when compared to the busy life she once lived as a palace guardian.

Taking a moment to mentally relive her past as a royal bodyguard and soldier, Chora found herself fighting distraction and unable to wholly concentrate on the shipment of flimsi novels that had been delivered to the shop earlier today. She often felt her thoughts reminiscing about the cycle of events that led her to this moment, but today those memories were particularly strong.

Recalling the past, Chora thought about the Separatist scheme that had led to Princess Arlesse's kidnapping nearly a year ago. The original owner of the shop, Norr Hudin, had been tried for conspiring with the Separatists and was imprisoned for the rest of his life. Thorough interrogations and investigations, led by both Davi Saun and herself, had found that Hudin had taken a large sum of credits to assist the mercenary, Qotan Hazar. It was tyranny in one of its highest forms, and the jury that had been chosen to hear the case offered no sympathy to Hudin. It was only because of Hudin's aged status that he was not simply executed. The jury had decided that living in prison would do more for Hudin's punishment than being easily executed and sent to his eternal rest sooner.

Chora's brother, Fernin, had then bought the business during the shop's foreclosure period, and he managed to keep it striving despite the previous owner's marred reputation. Under the new management that Fernin provided, the business had boomed because the structure now held an adventurous history and had caused much interest for the people of Tochin.

Davi and Chora had remained in contact after Moff Harkin had disbanded the palace guardians. They decided to make themselves hidden amongst the townspeople, taking on roles that allowed them to blend in with the common folk. While Davi presented himself as a hopeless wanderer who had no idea what to do with his life, he used that to his advantage to study the increasing amount of Imperial off-worlders who came and went through Tochin's main town. Chora kept herself concealed in the shop, meeting the people on a more personal level. It was a way for her to conduct her own interviews of the Tochinites to learn who was still loyal to their old ways and who had accepted the new Empire.

Davi and Chora hadn't any idea yet as to if they could ever stage a coup against the Empire, and after King Vollan's execution they knew any kind of revolt would end just as swiftly. They chose instead to wait, to silently observe how the way of life on their world was changing. They knew one day an opportunity would arise where they could overturn the Empire's reign, but it was safer to just lay in wait until that time and make mental lists of their enemies and their supporters.

In a strange turn of events, Davi had held a meeting with her three nights ago, and even though they had no plans to launch the revolt they yearned to lead, neither could resist the opportunity that the cloned commandos presented to them. Both Davi and Chora knew then that they would find no better opportunity to serve the monarchy, especially since their oath of protection to the royal family had become useless while away from the palace. The former guardians had committed themselves now to freeing from the Empire the last surviving member of Vollan Psach's bloodline, and even in their short meeting with the clones, something about them led Davi and Chora to trust that these commandos would keep the princess safely hidden from the Empire's clutches.

In order to set the plan in motion, though, Chora knew that she had to get her brother and his family safely away from town and make certain that they would be cleared from the tyranny that would be taking place. Insisting that she could manage the shop by herself, Chora spent the previous day convincing Fernin of her competence by handling every last menial task with his minimal supervision. By the evening, Fernin was convinced that his shop would be in safe hands, and he left that morning with his family on a weeklong vacation rather than just the day he had originally scheduled. He was relieved that he could finally take the time off that he had been complaining he never got to take. Deciding to splurge a portion of the shop's recent profits, Fernin took his family to one of the resorts in the far hills, where he would proudly register their names as guests in the expensive resort's records. Chora felt her own relief at his want to indulge, as she knew that their names in a registry's database would ensure their safety in case the clones' insane scheme went horribly wrong.

Chora glanced up briefly from the datapad and marked everyone's positions with her eyes before appearing busy behind the counter again.

Davi slowly moved about the shop, pretending to scroll through the different shelves as he watched out the windows. The clandestine meeting he had the other night with Chora and the former commandos had showed him just how insane and clever these clones were. During their stay in the palace, Davi had a hard time defining them as more than just soldiers who got in his way and caused upheaval in his routines. However, he saw that these two men, who maintained their roles of Bhen Shipley and Cabur, were not anything like the average trooper he had seen all too often. He came to realize that these clones were molded more like that insane bodyguard, Tarj, and Davi's previous misconceptions about an army made from the genetics of one single man was entirely wrong.

Dusty also wandered through the flimsi-novel shop, flipping through a reference volume that was full of colorful pages describing in vivid details Tochin's history. He had found the pages were packed full of fascinating facts and information, and he began to regret that the Empire had destroyed every chance of them settling on this world. Maintaining his land-buyer role, Dusty decided to keep his interest in the reference material he carried by appearing wholly engrossed in the pages. He felt his eyes glance up from the pages every few minutes so that he could take his own personal inventory of the shop, checking that everyone was still in the marks where they agreed they would be.

Occasionally, one of the citizens would wander into the store and peruse through the shelves of stories or reference materials. At least twice since the early morning, Chora had been called from her position to help one of the patrons, but Davi was quick to cover her position and her vantage point. Dusty found himself slowly gaining respect for these two former guardians and the meticulous ways they complimented their actions. It was reminiscent of Crimson, but Dusty forced that comparison aside. He did not want to dwell on Gath and Mouse's absence right now, even though he would have preferred their company. He needed his mind on what was happening around him, not living in a time that was long gone.

Jas had concealed himself away in the back room and took a position amongst the partially opened crates where he would not be seen upon entering the room, but he could watch the doorway to the shop. The lights weren't dim, but they weren't fully bright either. They illuminated the room just enough so that the inventory could be easily seen, and the words on the flimsi pages could be scanned over for manufacturing flaws.

Jas breathed heavily, somewhat nervously for a moment. He was the last line of defense for this insane scheme, but he was the first place where Les'ika needed to be brought. He just hoped that she wouldn't resist entering the inventory room. His heart sunk at the idea that the previous owner had taken advantage of her innocent curiosity by leading her into a trap in this very setting, and he had no way to forewarn her this time that this room did not hold that kind of frightening ordeal again.

Jas swallowed down that spark of guilt he felt for having to trick Les'ika, but he knew that to forewarn her of his presence could potentially cause a disruption in the plan. He knew he could do nothing now but just sit and wait and hope.

87 Days after Order 66
Tochin Moon III

Arlesse kept her hands folded before her and her head down as the speeder moved along through the wide streets of Tochin's main town. In the past, she had always looked eagerly out the windows, watching the life of the people on her world as she sped past. She used to enjoy watching the families out on their shopping sprees, and she often stared with wonder at the bustle of the crowds as they moved about the busy town. There was a time that the people used to stop and gaze at the hover car as though trying to see which of the nobles had ventured into their humble realm. Even now, after the Empire had invaded her world and brought with it a new way of life, she could see from the corner of her eye that the citizens continued to remain curious about who in the Empire was willing to venture out into their ordinary town.

Arlesse also got the sense that the journey into town seemed even longer than she could remember, but she didn't dare lift her eyes. Sitting directly before her on the cushioned bench was Moff Harkin, and his attempts to make verbal and physical contact with her continued to turn her stomach. She had seen yesterday that a decent man was somewhere beneath the politician's exterior, and she was more frightened of him than she was the politician. She feared that this decent man would finally succeed in earning her affections, and she had already betrayed Jas once. She refused to allow that to happen again. Jas had fought as a soldier for freedom in the galaxy, fighting to keep her world safe, even though he was light-years away from Tochin. And while Jas fought and probably suffered from injuries he didn't tell her about, Arlesse was certain that Harkin had done nothing but sit in a cushioned office during that horrible war. Jas had earned so much more than her heart, and she still regretted that in one moment, she had nearly lost him to her juvenile curiosity.

Tarj sat beside Arlesse on the wide seat but he had remained entirely professional in his role as a bodyguard. He wore his helmet, speaking occasionally whenever he felt that Harkin was pushing too hard on the princess. Keeping his words to a minimum, Tarj never offered anything more than relaying distance markers or particular landmarks on their journey, but it was enough of a hint that Harkin halted in his occasional pursuits of trying to touch the princess' hand.

Gillard was aware of the blockade that Arlesse and her bodyguard had orchestrated against him. Yesterday, he had seen that the princess could be gently persuaded and his time with her had carefully reminded her that she had a chance to continue her life despite all that had been lost. Gillard was certain that if Tarj wasn't present in the close confines of the speeder, Arlesse would at least talk to him. However, Gillard knew that Tarj had a duty to her safety, and to remove him from her protection would endanger her for now. Soon, though, Gillard would have no choice but to find a suitable replacement. Tarj's altered genetics were only going to last for a few years longer, and besides that, there was always the concern that Tarj might actually have to give his life to protect her.

Gillard breathed silently now and decided that he would relent his efforts to make any further advances on Arlesse until they were back at the palace. While amongst the public, however, if it became required that they show some kind of effort to be united, he would just have to make certain she had no choice but to give her people the hope that their two worlds were gradually merging.

The speeder had finally slowed down to a stop, and Gillard glanced out the windows taking note that their destination had been reached. Eight stormtroopers filed out of the vehicle that was before them and another vehicle behind them had another small contingent of stormtroopers. The sixteen men that comprised of Gillard's personal garrison all took their places around the shop, some studying the crowd that had developed and some facing the direction of Gillard's hover car.

The curious crowd now took notice to the royal entourage, and they slowly and carefully began assembling themselves around the stormtroopers who were guarding Moff Harkin.

Tarj decided to take advantage of the moff's distraction while the townspeople gradually surrounded Harkin and his stormtroopers. He slipped out of the hover car and gently pulled Arlesse with him, snaking her behind the back of the vehicle. He made certain that he stayed like a close shadow on Arlesse as they moved from the hover car towards the shop.

In the mere moments that it took them to exit the vehicle, Tarj had seen that the large crowd of townspeople now easily outnumbered the stormtrooper garrison. Just from a quick visual survey, Tarj estimated about eighty people had flocked to the moff, surrounding both Harkin and his stormtroopers as the soldiers attempted to shield Harkin from the crowd. Tarj heard a multitude of questions being shouted out all at once by the citizens. He didn't put much thought into their inquiries, but he heard that some of those questions were political in nature while others were seeking details about his upcoming nuptials to Arlesse.

Strangely, the crowd wasn't argumentative, but curious as though wanting to know what would happen to them now that everything they had taken for granted for centuries was gone.

Tarj continued to keep Arlesse away from the townspeople, doing his part to keep her separated from Harkin before the moff decided that he wanted her by his side while addressing the multitude of Tochinites. Silently, Tarj hoped that if Jas was going to make any kind of rescue attempt, he would do so long before Harkin finalized the plans for his marriage to Arlesse. Tarj wasn't entirely certain how much longer he would be able to keep Harkin separated from the princess, and it was just a matter of time before Harkin had enough of her detachment before he sought her closeness in more cunning ways.

Pushing behind the crowd and noting that they were more awed by Moff Harkin than Princess Arlesse, Tarj quickly led her into the shop. He felt her pause to look at the scene behind her, but Tarj placed a hand on her back and urged her to continue. He knew that the faster they moved, the less likely it was that Harkin would stop them and force her into the discussion.

Stepping inside the shop, Tarj saw that there was another small crowd of people, most of whom he quickly inventoried as being patrons and workers. He instantly noted, however, that none of them appeared younger than their mid-twenties and none of them were older than their early forties. He thought it curious that the people were aged so tightly, despite the different clothing they all wore to signify their wide range of ranks in the society.

A man and woman who appeared of noble bearing moved about the far corner of the shop while a couple younger men in farmers' clothing passed by chatting idly. Tarj's eyes caught sight of a man that looked oddly out of place with red his hair and sophisticated clothes. Tarj quickly identified him as an off-worlder, as his clothing was not typical of the styles that the Tochinite people were known for wearing. However, Tarj paused in his observation as though this man's mannerisms seemed strangely familiar. Then, Tarj shifted his attention knowing that he still had a roomful of people to assess.

A wandering older man was dressed in a haphazard array of farmers' clothing, and the outfit looked out of place on him, almost as though his clothing was as lost as he was. After a moment, this man brought his attention to the princess, and despite the flash of pity crossed his stern features, Tarj instantly felt himself go on edge. Only a fraction of a second later did Tarj understand his concerns as he recognized that this man was Davi Saun. Quickly remembering all too well their arguments in regards to Arlesse's safety, Tarj reflexively clenched a fist and forced himself to avoid giving Saun the broken nose he felt the man deserved.

Distracting Tarj from his want of revenge, a woman stepped towards him, and her clothing was above the standards of the farmers but not quite enough to signify nobility. Her dull orange, shin-length skirt brushed loosely against her dark brown, knee-high boots. Her off-white shirt was long-sleeved, and absent from it were decorations and adornments. The dull-orange vest that matched her skirt was also without embellishments as the clothing was more for work than socializing.

The woman's long, dark hair was loosely pulled from her face and held in place with a couple of brown strings, the style more practical than ornate. Tarj noticed that the locks of her hair were straight, and it took him a few seconds before he recognized Chora Wsau without the severe bun that she always wore behind her head.

Her smile was self-deprecating, and she shrugged her shoulders loosely. "Didn't ever expect to see me like this, did you?"

Tarj felt his words strangely stumble while in Chora's presence. It was the first time he ever saw her – not as a soldier anymore – but instead as a…woman. He had grown accustomed to her as an equal, a trained warrior much like himself. Civilian clothes somehow made her seem…different. He could see that she was far from helpless, though, as her dark eyes were strong and cunning. He wondered why he never noticed that her irises could also be kind and gentle. Tarj felt his eyes lingering over the way her loose hair changed the shape of her face, making her appealing on some level he had never experienced before.

Suddenly pushing the insanity of such thoughts aside, Tarj knew his priority was to Arlesse, and he forced his eyes to catch sight of Saun again, this time noting that the man had moved about the room and seemed to be keeping track of the scene outside.

Bringing his attention again around the room, Tarj slowly began recognizing the faces as those who were once palace guardians. It appeared now that everyone in the shop was once a palace guardian in some capacity. The young farmers were the last of the new recruits and the man and woman who made up the noble couple were the weapons instructors. The others were guards in various competences, who Tarj had seen in passing throughout the palace, and now he was certain that the guards had somehow used the crowd outside to intentionally orchestrate a separation between Arlesse and Harkin.

Tarj looked towards Chora wanting to question what kind of plan had been established when she gently took Arlesse's elbow in her hand and led her towards a side door. "Come with me, Highness, I have something that I know you've been waiting for."

Tarj tried to step forward as he saw the princess turn back towards him, uncertainty and concern in her blue eyes. However, before Tarj could continue, the red-headed off-worlder stepped into his path.

"I'm hoping you can help me," he stated. "This reference material states that there are supposed to be four ge'tal roses in bloom, but in my experience only two had survived the harvest."

Tarj wanted to push this strange man out of his path so that he could continue in his pursuit of Arlesse's safety. However, the one single Mando'a word struck him oddly, and it forced him to pause. He found himself taking a moment to absorb the remainder of the sentence around that one word, and as he mentally studied the off-worlder's statement, he began to clearly understand that there was a hidden meaning.

"Fierfek," Tarj whispered as he slowly decoded the sentence, realizing that each word had been purposefully and carefully chosen. Whoever this off-worlder was had just told him something significant about four red roses…or rather four crimson soldiers. Tarj didn't need some Republic Army decoding manual to figure out the rest of the message. It was abundantly clear now that the off-worlder was trying to tell him that two of Crimson Squad had perished at some point during the regrouping efforts at the end of the war. Piecing together the events that were quickly unfolding before him in this shop, Tarj knew he was in the midst the remaining two former Crimson Squad brothers.

Switching his helmet mic to mute so that none of the other Imperials would hear his conversation, Tarj suddenly removed the helmet from his head and brought his eyes to this off-worlder. He tucked the helmet under his arm so that his hand covered the goggles, and it was not entirely unlike the many ways he kept the goggles of buy'ce from watching his conversations with Arlesse. It was his way to hide what was being seen or heard, just in case the Imperials had some way to use his helmet for spying on Arlesse or him.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Gath and Mouse," Tarj said softly, as his eyes bore into the red-headed man, knowing that if this truly was Dusty he would understand without question the vow that Tarj had just made to remember his fallen brothers.

"Let's mourn later," Dusty replied as he pushed aside that guilt and emptiness yet again. He knew he needed time eventually to allow his anger and resentment to explode so that he could stop feeling so much grief, but while he was in the midst of a mission, this was not the time for that. He decided instead to swallow down the pain and allow his disarming but annoying grin to light up his face.

Tarj saw the smile that the off-worlder offered, and despite the contacts and the dyed hair, Tarj clearly saw the humble arrogance that Dusty was so skilled at portraying. Knowing he was in the company of someone he trusted, Tarj shifted his eyes towards Arlesse and Chora again, watching the former guardian open the side door. When Chora didn't follow the princess into the room, Tarj moved to step forward again.

Dusty caught him by the arm gauntlet and stopped him. "You guarded her well, ner vod, but now she needs her knight."

Tarj felt himself suddenly relax for the first time in nearly a year, his shoulders finally falling loose. "She didn't want to give up on him, but Jas needs to know that Harkin is slowly breaking her."

Dusty closed his eyes for a brief moment and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, hoping suddenly that they were able to get here in time. If Jas lost Les'ika, it would devastate him in ways Dusty didn't want to think about. Just the thought of being with her again one day had motivated Jas in ways many of their fallen and lost brothers had never understood.

Opening his eyes, Dusty sighed quietly and glanced towards the door where Jas was waiting for his girl. He thought back to the day they left Tochin and the way Jas and Les'ika looked at each other before they were separated. Feeling a new sense of purpose, Dusty's voice was certain and determined. "Harkin won't enjoy the opportunity to break her. You and I have work to do, and the people will only be able to keep Harkin busy outside for just a little while longer so we must move quickly."

87 Days after Order 66
Tochin Moon III

Arlesse hesitantly moved beyond the door where the woman had led her. As she heard the door close behind her, she spun, hoping that Tarj was still with her. When she didn't see him, confusion overcame her, and she stepped back towards the direction of the entrance.

Without warning, weight came across Arlesse's waist, pulling her close to someone while the rough material of something strong covered her mouth. She wanted to scream and tried to push aside the grasp that suddenly had her immobile. Her hands tried to pull the blockage from around her mouth, flashbacks suddenly erupting to her abduction over eight months ago. She felt the tears of terror welling in her eyes, wondering who was behind the attack this time, and she felt the lump in her throat threaten to close off her breathing.

"Les'ika," a voice so familiar in its accent whispered.

Even though the hollow metallic sound of the voice being spoken was through a helmet microphone, Arlesse knew of only one man who would say her name in such a manner. She had told no one else of the name that Crimson used to address her, not even Tarj.

"It's me," he finished softly.

Terror instantly turned to relief and the tears rolled slowly, not from fright but from a deeply imbedded joy. Arlesse tried to take a breath, but it resulted in a choked sob. The lump in her throat swelled with guilt, becoming a painful pressure against her breath.

Jas moved his hand from her mouth, sure now that Les'ika was past her moment of surprise and potential scream for help. He kept his arm around her waist, holding her tightly pressed against his armor. He had longed for over eight months to see her again, to touch her. Now that he had, he was still encased in cursed armor, his hands still layered in gloves. With his free hand, he removed his helmet and set it onto one of the unopened crates of merchandise. His armor was no longer Katarn armor in the style of the Grand Army of the Republic. He was now dressed like a Mandalorian, and some would call him a mercenary, a man for hire. However, Jas knew otherwise. The armor and his allegiance were different, but he was still Les'ika's knight, the man who had vowed to protect her and love her. She was always his chosen duty. No government ordered him to care about her and no Jedi commanded him to fall in love with her. His affections for Les'ika came solely from his own choosing, and he was more than willing to make it his duty to keep her safe for the rest of his life. Nothing mattered to him ever but returning to her and protecting her.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, leaning toward her hair and taking in the flowery aroma. The scent alone transported him back to the forests of Tochin so many months ago, where he was surrounded by this world's natural floral perfume. In just a mere second, he had relived that fateful rescue and every moment in that week, including the kiss they shared under a star-lit lake that had connected them in a way deeper than he ever thought was possible.

Arlesse closed her eyes, aware of the warm streaks on her face, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. She needed them there, needed them to make this moment real. She was tired of the fantasies and the dreams about how Jas had come back to her. She wanted to believe this time was authentic.

Her voice came out soft and broken, the emotions choking her words. She thought of that moment yesterday when Harkin had seduced her and how in her mind she had betrayed Jas. Had she known then that Jas would be holding her today, she would have fought harder, resisted stronger. She breathed hard and felt her body tremble with regret for what she nearly allowed to happen.

"Harkin told me you were…" she paused almost afraid to say the word, but knowing that she had to get past her greatest fear, "he said…you were dead. He…"

Arlesse felt Jas' arm hold her tighter, his large hand grasping the material of her lavender gown, refusing to lose her again. She sucked in a breath, fighting the guilt that threatened to consume her over Harkin's attempts to break her resolve. She knew she had to continue to hope that Jas would absolve her of her disloyalty.

"Harkin said you…that you couldn't come back, and you'd be killed for trying. I began to…" the words got stuck in her throat for a second, long enough for her to realize the implications of what she would have lost if she had given in to the moff's efforts more than the one kiss that she had. "He…" Arlesse stumbled on her words again, but she had to push forward with her confession and when the words came, they rushed out of her now, as though if she didn't say them, she would never do so. "Jas, he kissed me, but I don't love him…"

Jas quickly held Les'ika against him as tightly as he could and leaned his chin onto her shoulder so that his cheek brushed against hers. He folded his arms around her, wrapping her into a protective grasp, not unlike the blanket she cherished during their time together all those months ago. The very thought of losing her now after everything he had been through was like a metal spike in his chest. He could hear it in her voice and feel it in the dampness on her cheeks that she still loved him and wanted nothing more than to be with him again. A flare of anger tore through Jas at this Moff Harkin for feeding her such lies about his existence and trying to separate them. Jas knew Harkin didn't deserve her kindness and her innocence, and the moff would never earn her loyalty or devotion.

Jas suddenly realized now in this moment as he held Les'ika that other than Dusty and Tarj, she was the only person he had left from his old life.

"Les'ika, everyone's gone. Gan got sick and died…" Jas felt his words fall away as the grief and pain began dragging him down again, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could suppress it so that he would make it through this mission. Being with Les'ika now, even for a moment, reminded him just how vulnerable he was and that he could feel this way around her. He now needed to make his own confession of guilt, to apologize for not saving his brothers, and he knew she would understand. Swallowing hard and feeling the pain of losing his bav'odu as well as his vode, Jas spoke his brother's names, something he had avoided doing for so long. "Gath and Mouse…they didn't survive."

Arlesse breathed hard at the child-like agony that was imbedded in Jas' voice. It was no different than the pain that always consumed her for having to see her father die, for having to lose the one man who did everything he could to bring her happiness.

Arlesse couldn't control the way her head hung in grief while her whole body trembled at the truth. She had hoped that Harkin was just fabricating lies about Crimson, telling her horrible things to get her to break. Unfortunately, she now knew that Harkin wasn't lying, and the emotional pain she felt for those two dead men in Crimson Squad was so real because she knew them, truly knew them. She felt worthless again because she could do nothing for Gath or Mouse but mourn them properly.

"Harkin told me, but I didn't want to believe him," she whispered.

She felt her tears run for Gath and Mouse, and she leaned into Jas' cheek aware of the dampness that covered his skin. Arlesse felt her eyes open suddenly and she realized that he needed comfort, too. Jas, like her, needed something to show he was not alone and never would be. He needed to know that his brothers were not forgotten, never forgotten. Arlesse knew she would keep them in her heart and keep them forever in a place where they would be remembered fondly. And, she needed Jas to know that as well. The words came from her lips in a soft voice, hoping she was pronouncing them appropriately. "Vode an."

Jas said nothing at her clearly spoken Mando'a, but his actions were fast. He spun Les'ika so that she finally faced him. He let his eyes absorb the sight of her, noting every last coil of her hair as well as the softly colored lavender gown ensemble she wore. However, his eyes had only glanced at her physical attributes. It was the emotions in her eyes that had caught his attention, and he could very clearly see that her emotions for he and his brothers hadn't faded with time. Her sentiments were as real now as they were nearly a year ago, and she didn't say "brothers all," as any kind of insult. She said it as an absolution to his guilt for losing them, for having lost those who cared about her as much as she cared about them. Her care packages of RubyFruit and Tochin presents to them were always for all of Crimson, never just Jas, and she had accepted his brothers as her own without question at some point in that forest.

Jas' heart ached and soared in the same moment at the sight of this quiet princess. She always spoke about him being noble and honorable, but she was the one who was noble and honorable. Her actions were always done with virtuous intentions and were well-meant gestures done simply because they were the right thing to do.

Studying her eyes now, Jas realized that the last time he looked upon her, he was saying goodbye. In that palace hangar, far from the few romantic settings he had seen on a holo-screen, he and Les'ika had gotten engaged hastily, having only known each other for a matter of days. How their bond had been so strong, he would never understand, but it spanned the galaxy, and the correspondence they had shared only strengthened their need to be together again.

Jas felt the thin heat on his cheeks and allowed the emotion of the moment to fuel his own tears. He was mournful, joyful, angry, and relieved. He wanted to laugh and cry, and he didn't care if Les'ika saw him in a moment of emotional confusion and weakness. She had earned that right, and he would never allow anyone else to see this side of him.

Facing Jas now, Arlesse quickly noted that his hair was longer than the military cut she remembered, and the thick locks had grown scraggly and wild. Her eyes then fell to the new armor her knight wore, but by the descriptions that Jas and Crimson had told her, she knew it had to be that Mandalorian armor that they had once described. However, her attention on the armor was fleeting, and her eyes had risen back to Jas' face, her concentration lost in the deepness of his eyes. Arlesse could clearly see in his dark irises that the heart of the man beneath had not changed. The multi-colored plating of the armor may have made him look different from the gray armor she was accustomed to seeing on him, but the soldier who was within him had changed. The man whose orders had done their toll on him in the last eight months had undergone experiences that only a war could provide. Arlesse saw that Jas' eyes were not full of innocent wonder, and his face had aged a couple years in those eight months. He looked like a seasoned veteran, a man who had seen too much combat and death. Yet, despite the experienced soldier that shared his body, she could still catch a glimpse of the childlike boy inside.

That child who knew so little of the galaxy and was buried beneath warfare training was confused over the fatalities of Gan and Gath and Mouse, as their losses had ripped his world out from beneath him. Jas now clung to her for stability, for a ground to stand upon that would never disintegrate, and Arlesse came to realize that she looked at Jas in the same way.

She saw how, despite the distance that was between them for so long, that Jas' warmth and love for her had only deepened and grown. She saw that he would take out the entire galaxy if he believed it would get her free of the Empire that had commandeered her planet and stolen her life from her.

Jas touched his hand to her face now, always cursing the glove that stopped his fingers from being able to feel her smooth skin. He silently vowed he would amend that, and they would properly share their lives together. Cupping her cheek gently, he allowed the sweet hunger to fill his chest, the hunger that began the moment they met, and the hunger that had grown to the point he felt like he was starving. He understood what it was now, and before meeting Les'ika he never once thought that in his shortened life that he would learn about love, let alone experience it. Now that he had, he knew how much he needed Les'ika to keep him from starving.

Without any further thought, the words just fell from his lips, and there was no regret or hesitation about it. "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

Arlesse felt mesmerized by the sounds of words that she recognized as being Mando'a in nature, but Jas had never told them to her before. She started to ask what they meant when he quickly translated them for her.

"It means: We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors." Moving his hands to grasp hers, Jas decided to explain further, "It's the Mandalorian wedding vow. After you repeat the words, we will be united as husband and wife. It's legal and binding."

Arlesse could see no reason to refuse the bond that they had sought for months. She had come to realize that after Order 66 had occurred, the traditional ceremony she had envisioned for their marriage would never happen. Neither she nor Jas were the kinds of people who wanted a public display of their love, and it was fitting to her that they would take marriage vows in the quiet backroom of a flimsi-novel shop. The only other location she might have found more poignant was the garden at her palace, but it was time for her to take the steps towards being with Jas in reality and not the imaginary world she once thought they would share.

"Help me say the words correctly," Arlesse said quietly as her fingers curled tighter around his. "Help me become your wife."

Jas leaned forward and kissed Les'ika on the forehead before he touched his forehead to hers. Slowly, he spoke each of the phrases, and Les'ika repeated them, taking care to pronounce the words correctly.

After the last word was spoken, Jas was unable to prolong the hunger he had sustained since that day when he left her in the hangar of the palace almost a year ago. He slipped one of his hands from hers and cupped the back of her head, allowing his fingers to tangle into her curls. Closing that small gap between them, Jas kissed Les'ika with the strength of the warrior he had been raised to be but also with the gentleness of a man who knew how to protect the woman he loved.

Arlesse felt liberated for the first time since Gillard Harkin had come to her world, and she reached her hands up to passionately grasp Jas' face. She clung to him as they kissed, her lips just as hungry for his. She pressed back in response to him, knowing that this time she was truly with the man she loved and not a figment of him in her imagination. Growing breathless, Arlesse refused to let go of the man she loved, the man she had suddenly married. And for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to believe in those rescue fantasies, trusting once again in Jas and that he would find a way to get her safe.