CHAPTER 26

Unwavering Faith

"We weren't just born to fade…"

Fury, 14 BBY

Aimless Space

Trilla took another drink from her small glass, swallowing roughly with a torrent of air blown through her mouth afterwards. As the liquid snaked down her throat, she felt her cheeks begin to fuzz and her muscles relax, but the pleasing effects of being tipsy weren't doing much for her mood.

It had been a few days since Kashyyyk, and the shockwaves of Mars' death were still being felt around the ship, and not even the news of high Imperial casualties after the refinery was obliterated helped alleviate it. The fireteam of Mars, Lockdown, Raven and Xur had been together for nearly eight years, and to survive one war, only to lose a member afterwards felt like a harsh reality check for each of them. She'd done her best to be there for all of them, even if she herself had been close to the former ARC trooper, and she knew her mourning would pass long before theirs ever did. Xur hadn't cried yet…but she could tell he was holding it back, and she wasn't about to let him face it alone, not after all he had done for her.

For now, she kept her distance, trying her best to at least keep them one step ahead of the Empire while they tried to cope with this devastating blow. How they were supposed to raid the Fortress now…it just didn't seem possible anymore.

"We need him back," Rava interjected her thoughts, plugged into the cockpit port.

The brunette narrowed her eyes, already having trouble with focusing as her buzz took hold. "What?"

"The zabrak…the man to which you refer to as your 'boyfriend'," the VI reiterated, her domed head turning to her. "The one who has not left your room since the unfortunate passing of one CT-6794."

Trilla sighed as that unfortunate fact was made clear to her once again. Xur really hadn't left her room in a few days, only to remain lying in bed while she awoke, moving to do the tasks for the day and also figure out what the hell they were going to do. Petro was still recovering, Lockdown monitoring his condition while Brutis watched over him, and Raven had secluded himself to her training cabin, while also assisting her from time to time.

It was truly a depressing sight, and she knew damn well that the catalyst was Xur's unwillingness to move on. He still told her it was his fault, and if he had only been more aware, Mars would still be alive.

There is no possible scenario in which we could've envisioned such a perfect shot.

And yet that didn't seem to matter to him.

The Empire was zeroing in on them…she could feel it in her gut, as well as her natural instincts. Trilla always knew when she was being followed, as it was the only way to know how to discreetly follow in return, and she also knew that if Xur wasn't back in commission, no one would be.

He'd snapped her out of her dark place, and now she had to return the favor…tipsy.

Fuck it. Our options are quite limited.

"You are right, as always, Rava," Trilla conceded, rising to her feet and setting her glass aside. "Wish me luck."

"Don't be afraid to…push him around, if you will," she suggested. "He seems to respond to that kind of treatment rather passionately."

That's putting it mildly.

"I will consider that."

Trilla beelined to her room, nodding in acknowledgment to Lockdown, whose responsibility to Petro had certainly distracted him from the tragedy, and also enough not to interact with anyone, his head always downcast to his active MAHI.

The silent scene was getting on her nerves, which was all the more reason behind her need to do this.

When she entered her room, immediately she reached for her nose as the less than appealing smell of a man had never been vented. Already her mood was sour, compounded with her intoxication, and her annoyance was already formulating how she would approach him. The bed was empty, however, sheets ruffled and unmade, but she could spot a distinct glow from the other side of the bed.

She found him sitting against the edge, a holo device in his hand as he stared distantly at a projected image. He didn't turn her way, almost as if he did not know she was standing there.

You smell rancid. She wanted to say but knew that was more antagonistic than necessary. Patience…something she was absolutely terrible with…was going to be key here.

"Hey," was what she said, trying to at least grab his attention…to no avail. "I could use you up on the bridge…with me."

Usually dangling the prospect of being together worked, but now he seemed to be immune to all previous methods, remaining planted where he sat, eyes present in a time long passed.

"I can't do that," he rasped.

Annoyance bristled, but she stifled it again. "And why is that?"

His pause was long, unintelligent…and somewhat pathetic. "I can't."

And there goes patience.

She stepped forward and took a knee, gracing him with her intense stare that she had become known for. "Get the fuck over it."

Xur froze, before allowing his head to turn, his expression intense as shock manifested within him. "What?"

"Those were your words were they not? On that planet in the Tion Cluster?" she reminded him. "When you lectured me on my commitment?"

The short nod he eventually gave confirmed that.

She cocked her head as she pressed the point. "Wouldn't you say that now you're being just slightly hypocritical?"

The zabrak blinked…and she could sense he was still trying to process and raise his defenses from her sudden and direct assault. "Trilla, I…"

"Need to listen to me, now," she fiercely demanded, to which he complied, truthfully too stunned to deny her. "You're not going to tell me that after all those months of you fighting for me that one hurdle is going to bring you down. It's over and done with and sitting here isn't going to change anything."

He shook his head. "You don't get it."

"No?" she challenged. "I don't understand what it means to lose something…or someone? Is that what you are implying?"

The words were fleeting from his mouth by now, and she knew she had backed him into a corner, especially easy with his reasoning severely weakened as of now. He only sighed, looking away again, and that was when her empathy took hold. When Order 66 had been enacted and Amelia was shot dead before her eyes, it was hard not to blame herself for the girl's death. She imagined Xur felt responsible for the safety of his men, and especially someone who was not accustomed to accepting defeat or failure, that sentiment would only be intensified.

Trilla grasped ahold of his limp hand with her own warm one, squeezing his bones with purpose. "Darling…I miss him too, but he's gone, and I know he'd want us to press on…to finish our mission, but we can't do that if you give up."

Xur sighed, feeling at least some resolve return within him. "It's funny…for years I had no idea what had happened to them…Raven, Lockdown…Mars…and yet, the thought of them being dead had never crossed my mind. It just didn't seem…possible."

"These are the moments that keep us in perspective…reminding us that death, the first and last enemy, always wins," she grimly continued. "Usually that makes us afraid, as it should."

Xur looked her way. "If death always wins, then why should we be afraid of it?"

"Come now, Xur," she shook her head. "You always were cross about the Jedi Code, flawed as it was, and here you are defending it. How many of those self-sacrificial Jedi actually saved anyone by letting themselves die? Couldn't they have saved many more lives if they still had that fear of death?"

"Are you telling me I should be afraid?" he almost scoffed.

"No. I'm telling you to fight. It's what you told me all this time, and I'm here to remind you of something," she continued, and then leaned in, letting her free hand pull him to face her directly. "You're Xur fucking Eon. Act like it."

He stared into her eyes for a long while, but eventually he groaned, letting his head droop as he wiped his eyes clean. "You're right. Sorry."

Pride swelled within her, proud of him for pulling through, and proud of herself for not getting into a straight up fistfight with him. Quickly kissing him in the forehead, she rose to her feet. "Now get in the bloody shower. You smell dreadful."

He chuckled. "Yes ma'am."


"How is he?"

Trilla felt confident in the way her conversation had gone with Xur, but she'd need to see more action to be truly convinced. Nonetheless, she tried to distract herself as best she could until he came around again.

"About as best as we can hope for," she answered Raven's question, who was standing across from her around the central holotable. The interface was not active, in fact she was currently using it as a workbench to tinker with her old helmet, trying to mess with the light hues and vocabulator. This was admittedly a first for her, since the Empire simply provided her with a new one if it ever became damaged, and she did her best to utilize her knowledge of machinery and computer systems for the task.

It wasn't going particularly well, and her growing headache wasn't helping either. Her tools kept slipping where she poked and screwed, not to mention her vision that would blur every now and then.

Her tool rattled on the metal of the holotable as she dropped it, and finally Trilla grasped her head in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. It wasn't quite terrible…but she was certainly feeling unpleasant.

"Commander? Everything alright?" Raven asked, stepping forward to assist, only to stop as she waved her hand.

"Yes…just a bit under the weather, is all," she eased, picking her tool back up.

"Well, you took quite a hit on Kashyyyk. I don't doubt your perseverance, but you might want to take a rest. You've been up and moving constantly since then."

She shook her head. "I'll rest after we sink that Fortress to the bottom of the ocean."

Raven was hesitant to continue, merely standing still…which meant he was about to suggest something he thought may upset her, to which she wanted to hear.

Not like before…not like when she was something else.

"Raven…if you have something to say…please just say it," she insisted, trying to keep her tone welcoming, despite her current discomfort.

"Sorry, ma'am," he cleared his throat. "I was just…"

"Raven," she insisted. "Please call me Trilla."

"Right, Trilla," he corrected, attempting at least to loosen himself up. "It is best to go into missions with a clear head and rested body. Right now you don't have either of those, respectfully…and as a military man, I recommend you rest, perhaps even let Lockdown take a look at you."

She sighed, and the mounting fatigue she was suddenly feeling was resulting in slight nausea coming to a head. "Perhaps…you are right," she admitted, setting her tool down.

"I can have Lockdown-."

"No, it's…alright," she grasped his shoulder with a slight smile. "I have my own methods…thank you."

Raven nodded. "If you need anything…"

"I'll let you know," she answered, patting him gently before heading off to the cockpit, trying her best not to stumble as her condition worsened. Best she could tell, she was getting sick, but that didn't seem particularly likely. Trilla took care of herself, and unless there was a new strain going around Kashyyyk, humans were immune to most galactic illnesses by now.

Best to check in with Rava.


Mustafar, 14 BBY

Castle

Effa looked in awe at the majesty of the dark, mechanical corridor where she had been instructed to wait, at last graced with a chance to visit the nearly completed home of her lord, Darth Vader. Standing at the center of a circular platform, she gazed through the viewport beside her, granting her a view of a lava river that flowed beneath the foundation and to the horizon, its orange contrasting against the gray soot that covered the planet.

Her elation at the setting…as well as the prize in her hand, could not be put into words.

"We did it…" she giggled, wiping down the green treasure with her glove in admiration. "Time to see what secrets you shall grant us…and the beautiful children you so preciously hide."

What is your goal?

Effa blinked, stunned by the occurrence of a second voice in her head…just after she had medicated her mind straight.

Ignore them…they're not there. They don't exist.

Her yellow eyes pranced around, waiting for the voice to return, but for the moment, it seemed to be gone. She smiled. Having her dissociative identity come into play now would be embarrassing in front of her host, to say the least.

What is it you hope to achieve?

Effa's face fell momentarily, but the sudden creak of the massive door before her snapped her into a smile. Its slow, methodical rise gave way to the signature white smoke that warmed her heart, and through that a dark shadow revealed himself. His mechanical breathing filled the room with its cold presence, his boots echoing with each step he took.

She fell to one knee…not necessary for an inquisitor, but necessary for an apprentice.

"Third Sister…" his voice rattled her bones, inspiring pleasure, not fear within her.

"My Lord," she dipped her head, and then presented the holocron before him. "I have succeeded. The Jedi holocron is in our possession."

Vader merely raised his hand and levitated the cube into his grip, observing it through his dark red optics. "Indeed. Very good, Inquisitor. You have proven yourself worthy to continue at my service."

"My life is yours, my Lord," she beamed.

The Dark Lord's soulless expression never left her. "Rise," he commanded, and she obeyed with haste, clasping her hands behind her back. "Describe to me the nature of this…Jedi."

"Cal Kestis, my Lord?" she confirmed, and the silent gaze he gave her answered her question. "He is of little concern."

"I decide what is of concern," Vader pointed, his tone threatening. "Inquisitor."

Effa tipped her head in concession. "My apologies, my Lord. Kestis is tenacious, persistent and a decent saber duelist. Favors Form Three techniques but has developed somewhat of an unorthodox style to his combat strategies. He has the ability to slow objects and opponents-."

"Like Eon," Vader growled.

"Y-Yes, my Lord…like Xur Eon."

There was a long pause, and Effa knew better than to dare to interrupt Vader's thought process. All she could sense was boxed-in rage…the Dark Lord's hatred potent after the mere mention of the zabrak's name.

"You say Eon wrestled Kestis from the grasp of the Second Sister?"

Effa nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

Vader observed the holocron, and after another moment, he passed it back to her. "Then you will take the holocron back to the Fortress and wait for the Jedi to retrieve it. If what you say is true, then Eon will follow…and I will at last deal with him," he turned with a flap of his cape, marching back down the path. "Personally."

Effa bowed as she accepted the holocron and watched him go. "As you wish, my Lord."

You will find no joy at his side.

She growled, ignoring the voice in her head as she paced back to her ship.

You know nothing…nothing at all.


Bogano, 14 BBY

Stinger Mantis

It was not a pleasant walk up the loading ramp for Cal or Merrin, but the Jedi especially did not want to be the one to break the news to Cere that they had failed. He wasn't sure how she would react, even if he still felt hopeful they could retrieve it.

After all, only a Jedi could unlock it…and he was the only one left.

Cere was up on her feet already, to his surprise, seemingly contemplating beside their full terrarium. She did not turn to greet them as they entered…which gave him a sinking feeling that she already knew.

"Cere…I'm sorry, but…the Empire was waiting for us," he began, hoping to draw her attention. It was hard enough having to admit it, but her lack of urgency was beginning to not only baffle him but get on his nerves. "Cere? Cere!" he stepped forward, but Merrin grasped his hand tightly, pulling him back.

"Cal…" she eased, grasping his upper arm as well. "Relax."

He couldn't…they needed to move. They needed to track Effa down and take back the holocron before it was lost forever, and the longer they sat around, the harder it would be to get it back.

And yet Merrin's subtle but echoing words resonated within him, and as his currently most trusted ally, her suggestions simply had greater weight…but she was more than just an ally. Merrin was beginning to feel like a piece of his life in the form of a woman, someone who progressively became harder and harder to part with each time he was forced to do so. Why their relationship had manifested so strongly was another question, but in the end, he did what she asked.

"This is all my fault," Cere finally said, turning his way. "Effa was there?"

Cal nodded. "Yeah. She was there."

He could feel her unease within the Force, her connection restoring itself more every day since she had purposely severed herself from it. However, what came with it was all of her stored anger and hatred, welling up like a pressure valve preparing to burst. She hated the Empire more than anything else, but most of all, her hatred was aimed towards one, singular man he could not identify and truthfully could not comprehend. He sensed much pain from that man…intense and unending suffering.

All Cere wished to do was exterminate him once and for all.

He couldn't let her fall down that path, not as he almost had.

"It's not your fault," Cal insisted, stepping forward until he came up beside her. "None of us could have ever guessed the Empire would be able to claim the holocron without the Astrium."

"It's not that, Cal," she corrected, pacing past him to take a seat on the fabric couch. When she leaned forward and inhaled a deep sigh, he sensed more of her past bubbling to the surface. "When I was the Empire's prisoner, the thing that broke me…he was perhaps the most vivid…horrifying presence I had ever experienced, but he wasn't all. There was another…illusive shadow; one that observes until the perfect time to strike…and with all the time I had alone, I was able to hone in on her presence. I had felt it on Zakuul, when Eon was taken…and I feel it now…her hand in this."

Cal was baffled. "Who?"

Cere shrugged. "I don't know. She only spoke to me once, and it was only about Trilla. She wanted to know if she was still alive…and something about her ability to heal…but I didn't tell her anything. She left me after that, but I sensed something off about that woman. I don't know what she's after, but she serves herself, not the Empire."

He began to put the pieces together. "You think that this woman took the Astrium we were meant to find on Zakuul…and then…?"

"Gave it to Effa," she filled in. "Why and for what purpose, I have no idea."

"You think if we find this woman, then we'll find the holocron?"

Cere snorted. "I know where Effa is taking the holocron, Cal. I also know there is no way we're getting it back on our own."

Cal said nothing, fed up with her indirect tangent, eventually prompting her to continue.

"There's a fortress," she began. "Where the inquisitors come from, where they're based out of. It's a place of torture…it's the place I escaped."

He was quick, taking a seat beside her to drag her out of the river she was currently drowning in…a river containing all her worst regrets in one place.

"I…I never thought I would actually go back there."

"You won't be going alone," Cal assured, his hand gripping her shoulder in support. "You'll have a friend with you."

Her head fell downcast, and she sighed. "It's going to take more than just us, Cal, as I said."

Cal felt moderately insulted by her apparent lack of faith in him, especially after all they had been through. "Who else could possibly help us?"

"Cal, it's not…" she began. "It's not that I don't trust you…it's…myself," she admitted, and rose to her feet. "If we do this, we can't have anything holding us back…including me."

What is she talking about?

"Cere…"

"Going back to that place is a suicide mission, and bottled up, unresolved issues could be the death of us. Our focus on the mission must be paramount…absolute."

"Unwavering," Merrin chimed in from her spot. "You are saying that whatever painful past we may have suffered, we must let it go…all of us."

Cere nodded, seeming grateful that Merrin was able to simplify it. "Yes."

Cal had just reconciled with his past on Dathomir, which confused him the most. He was ready…but maybe everyone around him was not. Cere's thoughts were still drifting away towards anther figure…to the one she still felt she had failed.

"You want to get back in touch with Trilla…but why would she help us?"

Cere shrugged. "A feeling."


Fury, 14 BBY

Aimless Space

"I can't place it for the life of me," Trilla admitted, sitting in her pilot's chair as her sickness only seemed to worsen. "There aren't any current pandemics on Kashyyyk, right?"

Rava shook her domed head from the port. "As far as the Holonet is concerned, there is not. You should allow me to scan your vitals, Trilla."

She was never much fond of that, but she was more desperate for an answer the longer her sickness persisted. "Very well."

It only took a moment as the red hued holographic interface blurred her vision, the glare intensifying her headache as the lights rocketed into her pupils. Rava ceased the scan and projected the results before her, displaying hotspots of ailment. "This is mostly your skeletal damage from that blast you suffered, but it appears the bacta is working fine, and we know you do not suffer from an allergic reaction to the fluid, so it cannot be that."

"That is a thing?" Trilla asked, curious.

"For some species, bacta is fatal, mostly arthropoids. It actually melts their insides instead of repairing them," Rava revealed, which was certainly news to Trilla.

"Isn't that interesting," she remarked. "Anything else?"

"Aside from your injuries, you are not suffering from any infections…merely a misallocation of bodily resources to certain parts of your systems, thus is why you feel…what is the term…out of whack."

"But what would cause that?" Trilla furrowed her brow.

Rava paused. "In humans, usually pregnancy, but I can't imagine you would be suffering from such an ailment."

Trilla froze, propping herself up. "Come again?"

"I said a misallocation of bodily resources is an adjustment period when a human female becomes pregnant, but you…" Rava trailed off, and Trilla felt as if she was hanging off the edge of a perilous cliff, waiting for her to complete her thought. "…why, this can't be right."

"What? Rava, what can't be right?" she frantically demanded a straight answer.

"Calm yourself, Trilla. It was merely a faulty scan. Allow me to retry," she suggested, and before Trilla could protest, she shielded her eyes again as Rava initiated another scan.

Another agonizing wait followed as Rava processed the data.

Then…the VI slowly turned her head. "Did you fail to administer your contraceptive?"

By the fucking Force…

Trilla's eyes surreptitiously paced away. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?!" Rava spat, so to speak. "Do you have any idea what you have done?! You are foolhardy, reckless and irresponsible!"

Trilla raised her hands and shushed the VI loudly. "Shut your hole! Keep it down!"

"Trilla?" she heard Raven. "Everything alright in there?"

She cleared her throat. "Y-Yes, yes, Captain! Everything is fine!"

"If you say so, ma'am."

Despite Rava's obvious distress, she did keep her vocabulator volume low. "Trilla, you cannot support a child…not with our current state of affairs! How could you possibly do something so…so stupid?"

Trilla almost took offense to her accusatory tone, but she understood where the VI was coming from…but that viewpoint hardly mattered to her. It was worth every risk…and despite all she had suffered, the Force had at last gifted her for her perseverance.

She couldn't believe it…she was pregnant.

"I'm going to assume that the joyful look on your face means you do not care about the potential risk…which I guess is admirable," Rava admitted. "Although I cannot possibly comprehend this joy you are feeling, being a virtual construction."

She was going to be a mother.

In a gleeful bout, she wrapped her arms around the VI and emitted a high-pitched trill of elation, to which Rava sighed. "And you're hugging me…alright."

Trilla was happier than she had ever been in her life, and she could not explain why. It just…was. "Thank you, Rava. You have no idea what this means to me."

Rava shook her head. "I really don't. Now, should we tell the father?"

Her first instinct was to rise from her chair and run to her room, tell Xur he would be a father and then make love in the purest of ways…but the reality hit her. Xur had no idea she had elected not to take the contraceptive, and the reaction Rava had to the news would likely be his own. With all they were facing…the last thing he needed was another life-altering shock to his system.

Ultimately, they still needed to survive their mission in the first place.

"No," she shook her head. "I'll tell him when the time is right."

"Trilla…" Rava warned.

"I know, I know," she acknowledged, letting her hand glide over the VI's chassis. "I just don't want to complicate things further."

"In my opinion, you've already passed the point of no return…and he will discover it sooner rather than later."

All true.

Nonetheless, she shook her head. "Promise me you won't tell him."

Rava's head turned downcast, and she sighed. "I won't tell him."

She smiled. "Thank you, Rava."

Still, she wanted to celebrate regardless…in a more obscure way. Leaving Rava and the cockpit behind, she headed back to her room and made sure to shut the door behind her…just in case. She was feeling rather lascivious with this new news…for whatever reason…and planning ahead was her specialty. Rava may disagree with that ladder claim, but concern was her function anyhow.

When she saw the bathroom door was still shut, she sneered and forced it open with a wave of her hand, marching into the misty haze of water vapor.

"The f-…oh," Xur paused, concealing himself with his current towel. "Uh…hi?"

She smiled, walking towards the sink and mirror, removing her gloves and gauntlets. "Hey. Enjoy your wash-up?"

The zabrak scratched his head in mild confusion, his hair still dripping. "Yeah…"

Trilla snorted as she ripped off her boots, throwing them aside, and then subsequently pulled her top suit off. "Good. Smell better?"

Xur actually sniffed his arm and shrugged. "Yeah, smell pretty good, actually."

"Do you now?" she questioned, and then removed her pants, leaving just her undergarments. "I don't believe you."

In a rush of lust, she pressed him back into the shower and tossed his towel away, kissing him passionately as she switched on the water, letting the searing liquid cascade off their skin. Once she granted him a reprieve, he gasped.

"What's this about?" he chuckled.

She smiled brightly as her hair began to soak. "I just wanted you to know how much I love you."

Xur smiled back. "Well, consider me convinced."


Bogano, 14 BBY

Stinger Mantis

"Cal, can we talk?"

The red-haired Jedi was not expecting visitors while Cere reached out to Trilla but seeing Merrin was a welcome surprise. The time was passing slow anyhow, and he admittedly was unsure what to do while he waited. There was only so much he could do with his mind still hanging over the loss of the holocron.

So Merrin ran in to him merely tinkering with his saber hilt while BD remained hooked into recharge.

"Hey," Cal turned, twisting his saber back into one piece. "Sure. What's up?"

Merrin looked and felt nervous, clasping her hands together as her fingers fidgeted in her grasp, unsure as how to present herself. "I was…thinking about what we had talked about earlier," she began. "Unresolved issues being the death of us."

Cal narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

The nightsister gave him a look that pleaded for help, and then eventually sighed. "Let's stop…beating around the bush…as I heard once."

Beating around the bush? She doesn't mean…oh no.

"Look, Cal…I may not be completely aware of…social constructs and such…but I'm not stupid. I've noticed the way you act around me, and only after seeing Xur and Trilla did a lot of it begin to make sense."

Cal's fight or flight reflex kicked in as his armpits began to sweat, his trembling manifest into a slight shiver. Anxiety and anticipation were a terrible combination, and he did his best to push them both down.

"Such as now," she pointed out.

Come on Cal, remember what he said!

But none of what Xur had told him felt natural. Forcing himself to adopt a persona that was not his own felt like more of a hindrance than anything else. The fact of the matter was, he wasn't confident, and he didn't feel like much of a teaser or jokester. Trying to be one only seemed to hold him back, and perhaps he should instead do the unthinkable.

Be himself.

He shook his head. "I know, and I'm sorry Merrin. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"So…you do?" Merrin asked, stepping forward.

Cal's eyes paced away. "I do what?"

She flushed red, pulling her hair out of her face. "You…like me?"

"Yeah," he almost blurted, subtly nodding. "Yeah, I like you."

Merrin deadpanned, placing one hand on her hip. "That's not what I mean."

Well, what else would you…oh…

Now the panic set in. His cheeks flushed an intense red, and he felt his blood circulate at an alarming pace, before running his fingers through his hair. "Uh…w-well."

Then Merrin smiled, stepping forward and grabbing his hand. "Relax, Jedi. You need say nothing more."

His panic dissipated in a sudden turn. "I don't?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "I've already seen enough."

She is pretty when she laughs.

It was like a moment of clarity as everything fell into place. Discomfort gave way to security and assuredness, and his heart continued to pound, but he let it. Standing to his true height, he smiled, grasping the side of her neck and letting his thumb rub her cheek. In a quick move, Merrin pressed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, and their lips interlocked with ease. It was incredible…the taste of her was powerful…indescribable.

Even if neither of them knew what to do. They did what came naturally, and Cal thought about nothing else but her in his arms, and how much joy she had brought to the tragedy that had been his life.

When they pulled away, he gasped. "What was that?" he asked.

Merrin giggled and eventually laughed fully, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "You're adorable, you know that?"

He blushed. "Thanks…you're…adorable too."

She popped her brow. "I'd hope so."

They kissed again, and this time Cal didn't let his stupid mouth ruin it.


Fury, 14 BBY

Aimless Space

Xur found the scent of Trilla's clean hair incredibly pleasing as he held her in his arms, allowing her to trace shapes over the center of his chest as she snuggled in. He had no clue as to why she had suddenly become so clingy to him, especially after their fierce conversation in which she whipped him back on his feet. Personally, he did not mind the extra attention, as his emotional state preferred her soothing presence in close proximity.

They had decided to keep this session less erotic this go around, as the noises they would make would certainly not be acceptable with the company they kept on the ship. Strangely enough, they both found solace in lying together in her bed, just…talking, as well as occasional pauses where they would simply bathe in the presence of each other.

It was a calm distraction for what was ahead.

"Do you know what I love most about you?" Trilla asked.

Xur pulled her closer, letting the feel of his working muscle structure warm her heart. "What?"

She smiled, still feeling his chest with her nimble fingers. "You don't care…as in, you don't give a damn about the odds. You just…do."

He shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend that the prize on the other side doesn't have anything to do with it."

Trilla didn't laugh at his joke, continuing her aimless stare as she maintained her contact with him. "Those insurgent fighters on Kashyyyk…you didn't know any of them particularly well, and you knew they didn't stand a chance, and yet you fought for them anyway," she listed. "You disguised yourself, hoping to deceive an army of deceivers when you infiltrated the Inquisitorious, knowing damn well you probably wouldn't make it out…and yet you did it anyway. You…saw what I was…" she slowed, her tone following a path with more regret. "…what I did…and you stayed anyway. No matter how many terrible things I did, you were there for me…always."

The zabrak buried his nose into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "I told you. I'd do it all again, just as I had done it."

"I know you would," she acknowledged, letting her hand glide over his body, feeling his every mountain and valley. "Which is why I don't want us ever to be apart. I…I love you more than you could possibly imagine."

"I know you do," Xur exhaled heavily as he pulled his nose away. "But you've pulled me out of some rough spots too, you know. Mars dying…I never expected it to hit me so hard. I know soldiers die, but…he was more than just a soldier…he was…"

"Family," Trilla finished, letting her eyes look up to him. He sensed a large amount of elation within her when she mentioned that word, but he wrote it off with her odd and sudden desire to make love to him on a whim. "They are the most difficult to let go."

He sighed. "Yeah…"

Her expression became sympathetic, and her real hand brushed his cheek before she softly kissed him, and already he was feeling better. "But I'm not going anywhere," she assured.

Xur smirked. "You never did the running, did you?"

She shook her head. "You should consider that should you ever get any…unfortunate ideas."

The zabrak scoffed. "Oh, believe me. I know who comes out should I ever get out of line…even if she never caught me."

Trilla narrowed her eyes. "She came close."

"If she considers herself on her knees and disarmed close, then she should consider entering another profession."

"I remember her killing you."

"I also remember saving her ass over and over again, even just before she killed me."

"Hm…I guess she did take for granted your heroic moments…even if you were always a cunt about it."

"I think the cunt part was well warranted. I mean…she was a mean bitch, if you know what I mean. Had to keep the scale even."

Trilla groaned. "Ugh. She hated that."

"I know she did. I also know she tried to kill me so many times it was almost hilarious, like that one time she tried to seduce me, only to be constantly rejected until she was so angry she took it out on a poor little teenaged Jedi fugitive."

She snorted. "That is not even remotely accurate."

He cleared his throat, mimicking her tone and accent. "Every eye you lie upon me is filled with purpose…ambition."

Trilla deadpanned. "You wanted to spread her open, just admit it."

Xur tried to keep a straight face. "Uh…well…this is a trap isn't it?"

Her devious smile returned, and he felt chills roll down his spine, until her fingers resting on his hip bone squeezed, and he jerked. "Gah! Trilla…stop it!" he protested, only to see her giggle almost hysterically.

"You should have never let me discover this hidden truth about you…" she sneered. "Imagine what would become of you…should it leave this room?"

Xur scoffed. "You are the most…" he squeezed her tightly. "…unforgiving, gorgeous, manipulative and pleasing woman I've ever met."

She laughed. "I love you too."

Reaching out, he pulled her shifted hair out of her eyes. "Now, since we're in the mood, I'd say we should-," he was stopped by a distinct frequency coming in on her wrist comm. She almost ignored it, pressing up against him to continue their motion, but the spaces between the chimes widened her eyes in recognition. Xur protested as she pulled herself away, "No, no that can wait…"

Trilla gently pushed him back with her metal arm as she stared at the device on her left wrist, and then scoffed. "I think…I think Cere just hijacked my comm."

Xur desperately tried to hold in his laugh, but it came bursting out, only to be met with a punch in the shoulder.

"Fuck off," she silenced him, out of the joking mood. Hesitantly, she tapped the central button and listened in. "Who is this?"

"Trilla…it's me…Cere," her former master answered, and Xur sensed a distinct rise in animosity. Trilla could say all she wanted that she was reformed, but it was strikingly obvious that she and Cere were not healed as of yet. Xur reached out and grasped her free hand in support, and she sighed.

"What do you want, Cere?" she asked, her tone somewhat bitter.

Cere paused for a moment, and Xur could tell this wasn't a "catch-up" call. "The holocron…Effa has it."

Trilla was almost stunned, frozen in place until she could muster the words. "How could she possibly wrestle it from your grasp?"

"She was waiting…Cal said she used your notes to find it."

Xur cocked his head and whispered. "You took notes?"

"I took notes on everyone," she answered, before returning her attention to her comm. "Tell me you have a plan for getting it back."

"Yes…it's a longshot…but with your help…"

Trilla scowled, but Xur squeezed her hand for her attention, and when she looked his way, he slightly nodded his head.

There was only one place Effa would ever take the holocron.

She sighed. "We're listening."

"Thank you, Trilla. Is there a place we can meet?"

Trilla didn't seem to have any good answers, so Xur stooped in to assist. "Cere…meet us on Ziost. I'll send you the coordinates."

"Ziost…if you say so. We'll be there…and thank you."

The communication died after that, and Trilla sighed. "I really hope you know what you're doing."

"I do," he assured, clasping her hand into both his own. "I promise."


Aftermath chapter, so nothing but feels. Sorry if you wanted some action, but uh, trust me, you'll be sated here soon enough. I probably only need one more to set up the finale, but to be honest, I'm not going to know until I'm a good way through the next chapter.

If you have any suggestions, say them now or forever hold your peace, lol.

Stay healthy and stay safe. Thanks for reading!

Side Note: If any of you are interested, I am currently taking part in a Jedi: Fallen Order roleplay in the Star Wars Games Forums "Trust Only In the Force". If you'd like to join, we would be happy to accept new members.