The walk back to the Wookiee encampment was made in silence. Even Carth, who I had expected to start asking annoying questions about what happened didn't say a word to either me or the Mandalorian. The only sound had been the clanking of HK-47 behind us and the uproarious jungle.

Something gnawed at me.

It was strange. I shouldn't have had any feelings or opinions on some Mandalorian who decided to off himself—for some stupid reason like honor too.

But had that been the reason?

The deserter shouted about dishonor, used it to cut his own throat, yet I didn't sense determination. Resignation. Passivity. Traits of someone who would take their own life for some higher purpose.

I sensed despair. Regret. Pain. An old, numbing pain that had been locked away for years. Jagi knew going into the fight that he was going to die. Canderous' dishonor was a pretense. An excuse.

And once that excuse was gone…

"Canderous?"

The Mando's shoulders tightened. "Not now, pipsqueak."

So, I didn't say anything else. There wasn't much that I could say about the situation. Anything that mattered, anyway.

The Wookiee guards to the camp mumbled some growls as we passed them back into the camp. Instead of walking into the apothecary's tent, Canderous sat at a nearby fire, staring into its flickering heat.

"Wes?" Carth turned once he realized I wasn't following him. He pointed. "Why do you still have that?"

I lifted the vibroblade—the firelight danced on the dirty metal.

"HK." The droid's photoreceptors blinked at the sound of my voice. "Stay here. I'll be back."

"What? Why?" Carth asked. "Where are you going?"

"I need to do something."

The pilot didn't ask what that something was, or if he did I didn't hear him. I twisted around and marched towards the chieftain's hall.

The Wookiee warrior stopped me before I entered. He tilted his head after I told him I needed to see Zaalbar. The warrior, fortunately, didn't question it. He went inside the hall and, a few minutes later, Zaalbar appeared, fur mussed, yet alert.

"Wes? What's wrong?"

"Follow me."

I led the Wookiee past the gate and into the jungle where no warriors or Wookiees were around. Zaalbar called out to me in confusion a few times, but I ignored him. Once we were a few minutes into our travels, I stopped and turned.

Passing the vibroblade to my left hand, I unleashed my lightsaber. The Wookiee flinched as I grabbed the blade, careful not to cut myself on the edge. I pressed the lightsaber's edge at the top of the hilt then severed it from the sharp metal. Once the metal cooled, I pressed the flat of it against Zaalbar's chest.

"Look what I found?" I smirked. "Bacca's blade."

"What? But Wes…" He pushed my arm aside. "It's not. This is just a normal weapon. If I say this is Bacca's blade then I would be lying."

"Oh, but you wouldn't be." I pushed it back into Zaalbar's chest. "It was never the blade that protected your people. It was the one who forged it, Bacca, that gave it a message of hope and freedom in the first place. The blade helped carry on his legacy, sure, but that's all it is. A legacy. It's a poor substitute for Bacca himself."

The Wookiee lifted his trunk-like arm and grabbed the blade with his claws. I let go once I was sure he had a hold of it.

Zaalbar remained silent for a long time until he nodded.

"Yes." His watery gaze met mine. "It is."

All of the exiles gathered in front of the Wookiee's hall that morning.

Everyone had also joined this gathering...except Canderous who hadn't left that spot by that fire. Bastila stood at my side, looking far better than she did yesterday. The Wookiee medicine must have actually helped (unlike the Dingla root and other strange herbs she was probably fed). Verena leaned on a stick-crutch while HK-47 held our bags again. We were ready to leave this hell.

Mission hadn't spoken. Hadn't even looked us in the eye.

After a minute of waiting, Zaalbar exited the chieftain hut along with Jaarak and Freyyr. The old Wookiee nodded to the fifty or so that gathered and the twenty warriors armed with the spears and scavenged Czerka weapons they would be using to take the lift.

But there was really only one weapon needed.

The Wookiees growled in both awe and excitement. Bacca's blade was in Zaalbar's claws. Freyyr waved an arm and they all quieted. I covered my mouth with a fist and smirked down at Mission. She'd raised her chin at the sight and her expression twitched.

"Those of the Clan! The curse has been lifted!" Freyyr roared. "My son, Zaalbar, brings us hope! Hope in the shape of Bacca's blade!"

The sensation of joy flowed through the Force, cutting through the darkness of the Shadowlands. Warriors shook their spears in the air as Zaalbar took a step forward. He raised the blade above his head as he roared.

"When they see me holding this blade, they will not see the Mad Claw Zaalbar! They will see Bacca incarnate! I will fight against both my brother and the invaders to the very end!" He roared. "Who is with me?"

The Wookiees all roared in agreement—many of them growling "Bacca" over the sounds of the jungle. Bastila, Juhani, and Verena shot me confused looks. Carth a knowing raised brow. Jolee chuckled into his fist. Mission grabbed my arm and shook it.

"But, Wes...you said the blade was—!"

"We all make mistakes." I put a finger to my lips with a grin. I winked. "Turns out I made one."

The teenager blinked a few times. Then, her blue face beamed and, before I could dodge, a heavy form collided and squeezed my chest. This time, I let her choke me to death.

It was a fitting punishment.

The lift appeared from the darkness above, slowly descending upon us. Those of us who could fight—Carth, Canderous, Juhani, Jolee, Mission, and I—held our weapons tight. Bastila insisted on hiding in a nearby bush with Verena so that she could at least use the Force on our enemies. I didn't like the idea, but once she wanted to do something there was no stopping her. A quality we shared, really.

HK-47's head swiveled at the bush where I'd tasked him to guard both Bastila and Verena. He'd expressed "jubilation" at the thought of finally killing a "furry meatbag." I didn't want to break the news to him that, if everything went smoothly, he wouldn't have to kill any furry meatbags.

Because, if the plan went smoothly, no one would have to die.

The Wookiee warriors camouflaged themselves with leaves, vines, and other flora near the back. The only visible souls in the clearing were Zaalbar, Jaarak, and Freyyr. The "outsiders" guarded the front. If things went wrong, we were tasked with using the Force to rescue the Wookiees while the warriors would strike the lift.

The lift landed in the clearing with a thump. The ramp fell, revealing the Wookiee hunters. They aimed their bowcasters at the three Wookiees, however, their leader stopped them from shooting once he recognized Zaalbar, Freyyr, and Jaarak.

It was Woorwill.

"Brother!" he growled. "What is…?"

"We have found Bacca's blade, Woorwill," Jaarak roared, waving at the blade. "Zaalbar has lifted the curse from our people. If that doesn't prove our innocence and Chuundar's deception...then strike us down!"

The hunters flinched at Jaarak's proclamation. Woorwill himself stared at them in silence. I didn't sense the intentions to attack, yet I kept my lightsaber ready.

"But Jaarak…" Woorwill's growls were quiet. "You are not innocent. You killed father...Rorworr…"

"Yes." The Wookiee's body sank. "And...I was wrong to do so. I should have tried to convince them to fight against Chuundar and Czerka instead of taking matters into my own claws. I will regret that for the rest of my life. But my crimes are not Zaalbar's. Not Freyyr's." He waved an arm. "If I need to stay banished down here...then so be it! But for the good of the tribe...for the good of our people please let the true chieftain rule Rwookrrorro once more."

Woorwill froze. The hunters lowered their bowcasters a smidge in hesitation. Then, after an eternity of silence passed…

"Chuundar only listens to Czerka now," Woorwill growled. "Once he dismissed the Council...he refuses to see any wook. They...started trying to cut down one of our trees…" He nodded. "The return of Bacca's blade is a sign. A sign that we have let our fear of the outsiders get out of hand."

He waved. The hunters lowered their bowcasters. "What you did was wrong, brother, but you show true remorse. You may never be forgiven by our clan but I...I forgive you."

Jaarak's shoulders fell and he whimpered.

"Brother…"

Warmth spread in my chest and a smile I didn't mean to show curved my lips. I hooked my lightsaber onto my belt.

Zaalbar, Freyyr, and those of us that intended to leave Kashyyyk piled into the lift. Jaarak growled about staying behind—for good. While his brother had forgiven him for killing both his father and Rorworr, he felt that his presence would hurt rather than help the cause. Not to mention that he still regretted his actions. His exile had been warranted...and so he remained.

As the lift rose, I slid beside Bastila, shooting her a wide grin. She'd hidden in a corner away from everyone else and behind the Wookiee hunters. If I hadn't had the bond, I wouldn't have tried to find her but...I sensed melancholy. It was an unusual emotion to have since we were on the path to victory.

"Why the long face, sunshine?"

Her vacant gray eyes glanced up at me before she returned to staring at her hands.

"Well, I...I've had a lot to think about…"

"Oh? Mind sharing with the class?"

She sighed. "I don't...I don't know how you do it."

"Do...what? You're going to have to be specific."

"I've seen your tendency towards giving in to your darker emotions. You're quick to anger, stubborn, aloof...vindictive. You do as you please, for the most part. Without a fear of the consequences. All traits that indicate that you've fallen to the dark side."

I frowned. She glanced up—probably sensing my unease. "Oh, no, don't worry, this isn't a lead-up to a lecture. Because then there are times like these where you...notice when other people are down and try your best to cheer them up. I've sensed it many times. 'Bacca's blade' is only the latest example...and here you are now, actually."

She watched her hands again. "You inspire loyalty not only because of a...cause or out of pure conviction. But because you care, deeply, about others. You have a powerful sense of empathy. Compassion."

I smirked. "So is that one of my good traits?"

"Yes." She nodded yet still didn't look at me. "And it's…fascinating."

"Fascinating?"

"How could someone who cares so much about others also...have so much conflict within them? Don't you find it difficult to keep yourself in check? You make it look so easy." She glanced away from her hands into my eyes. "Or is that only an illusion?"

My smirk dipped. I grabbed onto the rail while staring down into the darkness. Thinking. Eventually, I had an answer.

"I...before I would have told you that I had no conflict. Or regrets." My breath wavered. "I lied to you. What happened on Deralia all those years ago...haunted me. Still haunts me. Seeing Czerka treat the Wookiees like the Mandalorians treated me...hearing Zaalbar's wish to stay on the ship...it was a harsh reminder that I'd done nothing with my life.

"Before I was just a smuggler. A drunk. A coward. No one. I had no purpose. If I hadn't been assigned to the Endar Spire, I'd be wasting away in some prison cell. Some days I wish I hadn't agreed to go on that stupid ship."

"What?" her voice broke. "Why?"

"Because then I wouldn't be...afraid." I shot her a tight smile. "I wouldn't have met all of you. My purpose. This 'empathy' and 'compassion' you see...that's the real illusion, Bastila. I'm still just a smuggler, a drunk, and a coward who really only cares about himself. Only now I'm afraid of losing my purpose. Everyday. And I'd do...everything in my power to keep a hold on it."

I took a shaky breath, my face feeling hot. "So, in a way, yes. It is difficult to keep myself in check. Because it isn't easy to keep a hold on it. Not in the slightest—"

Bastila's warm hand gripped mine. Tight. And even more warmth in the bond eased the pain.

Her eyelids flickered. "And I wish it was...easier." The grip on my hand tightened. "I think about all the evil that the Sith have caused and I...I get so furious. I want to use as much power as I can to protect everyone from the Sith. Any power. Because I don't...I don't want to lose anyone. Yet this desire for power leads to the dark side."

I turned my hand and weaved my fingers through hers so that I could grip her by the palm.

"If it's to protect others, any type of power would be worth it."

She peered into my eyes for a long time. So long...it felt as if she agreed with me. That is until she released my hand.

"But what comes after?" She shook her head. "After using all that power, would you decide to impose your will on the universe? You may think you have control, but the dark side corrupts your thoughts."

"If I lost you, then I would fall to the dark side." I grabbed both of her hands by the fingers. We were close now. So close I could feel the heat from her body. "If I had to fall, I'd rather fall to protect you."

Her face grew still and the bond became numb. Pain. I felt her chest lift and fall as her breath ramped up—disturbing the cuts on her torso. She stepped away, the heat from her body gone, cold. Though I still held her hands. I couldn't let go.

"No." Her lips shivered and...tears formed in her eyes. "You didn't...because… You couldn't have. Why would you...? No, I shouldn't have...said...shouldn't have made you think..."

"What?" A knot formed between my brow as I squeezed her fingers. "What are you talking about? What's wrong?"

Her shivering stilled. Along with the pain. The tears in her eyes dried.

"Nothing."

And I sensed nothing. Because after that, she clammed up. Again. The bond, shut, everything...silent. I'd thought that after I told her everything that I'd been suppressing that we'd come to an understanding. That we'd become closer. But always, always, we returned to this cold, frigid distance.

I released her hands and didn't look into her eyes again.

We were close to arriving at the Wookiee village when the old man, Jolee, decided to interrupt my thoughts. He slid to my side after pushing through a wall of carpets. Bastila had wandered away—without a word...

The old man shot me a sly smile. "Noticed you were getting...close to the young lady. Very close. Whispering like a couple of nightswans..."

I huffed. "So you were peeping in on us like a perverted Hutt slug. Why am I not surprised?"

"Perverted Hutt slug? Now, why would you call me that?" He raised his brow. "Nothing of an...intimate nature was happening, right?"

I couldn't stop my face from growing hot. "What do you want?" I crossed my arms. "I'm not in the mood to be pestered by an annoying old man right now."

"Oh, nothing, nothing!" Jolee threw something over the edge...a rock or a stick. "Haven't seen the light of day in...oh, hmm, twenty years now! Kind of exciting."

"Why did you exile yourself in the Shadowlands for twenty years?" I asked. "And why are you leaving now?"

"The hermit says he's tired of living alone in the giant forest and you're asking why he would want to leave? How cynical are you?"

"Are...are you always going to be this elusive? Because we don't have to bring you with us."

"My, my, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the hammock this morning, I see. Is that another chip on your shoulder or are you a bit surly today?"

"Look, old man." I twisted around and shoved a finger in his chest. "Either tell me why you've decided to stalk us, or you can keep your opinions to yourself. It's your choice."

Jolee's face became dark. Serious. "Have I offered a single opinion? No, I haven't, though you could do far worse than hear a couple of mine. Your destiny, after all, is rather unclear."

"Destiny?" I lowered my hand. "What destiny?"

"Hmm...do you listen? I said it was unclear." He turned away from me and leaned on the rail. "Everything about you that I can see is odd. Slightly off, as if my eyes are trying to trick me. You seem like a good kid. A bit confused, but a good kid. Yet there are times where you switch. Flip. Like a coin." His warm eyes met mine. "There is something...something very dark about you…"

"What?" I frowned. I hadn't done anything to the old man, surely? Except for being pissed off. For good reason. "What do you mean?"

He slapped my shoulder with a jovial grin. "Bah! I'm sure you don't need to hear my ruminations. You've probably got enough nosy Jedi offering you one opinion after another to make you sick."

"No, really." I shoved his hand off my shoulder. "What do you mean dark? I haven't done anything to hurt you, have I?"

"I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you. You remind me a bit of Nomi sometimes, heh heh, and that can't be all bad."

"Nomi…?"

"Nomi Sunrider."

"Oh, right…" I flinched. "Wait, isn't she the Jedi Grand Master ?"

"Is she now? Good for her! But yes, you remind me of Nomi."

"How am I...anything like the Grand Master?"

"She also came late to the Force, if you didn't know, and struggled a lot because of it. Didn't want to become a Jedi in the first place, actually. But when her husband died, she made the choice to use the Force in order to defend those she loved. In spite of her initial reluctance, she ended up being one of the greatest Jedi in the Order. Oh, and she was just as passionate and stubborn as you are..." He smiled. "Whether you'll follow the same path remains to be seen."

I sighed, yet before I could make any sort of denial or comments, the Wookiees shifted.

We had arrived.

Those of us who weren't supposed to be in the lift gathered in the center. We braced ourselves as the lift slowed to a stop. The Wookiees guarding the lift asked what Woorwill was doing back so soon...yet stopped once we all clambered out.

The Chieftans hall happened to be filled both by Chuundar and Czerka goons. Captain Dehno's wrinkled face creased in annoyance as we strode forward, interrupting an obviously important meeting.

Once Zaalbar stepped through the crowd, carrying Bacca's blade, the confusion turned to anger.

"Brother!" Chuundar roared then turned to Woorwill. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you let these exiles arrive with you?"

I stepped to Zaalbar's side along with everyone else—Mission puffing out her chest with a wide grin. Chuundar's guards raised their blaster rifles and Czerka pointed their pistols at us.

"Looks like a mutiny to me, Wookiee," Dehno shouted.

"Lay down your bowcasters!" That roar came from behind us. Freyyr stepped to the other side of Zaalbar. "We're here to save our village from the outsiders!"

Chuundar stood from his throne. His scarred face twisted. "Oh, that's just great! Everyone is here now! It's a reunion!"

"Yes, brother, a reunion that could only happen because of Bacca's blade!" Zaalbar shook it at the Wookiees. "The curse is lifted! We no longer have to fear the outsiders! And you, brother, will no longer sell our people!"

This caused Chuundar to pause. The Wookiee guards around them hesitated at the sight of the blade.

Before they could relax, the gray Wookiee roared. "So what! I have the hilt. And you would want Father to rule again? He is old, weak! You both almost let these outsiders destroy us! Only I was able to protect the village!"

"You...may have been right once, Chuundar," Freyyr whimpered, "but you didn't have to use deception to prove your point. And the village is strong enough to defend themselves." The old Wookiee shook his spear. "Surrender, my son, or we will have to fight!"

Chuundar snorted. "You're too weak, old wook, and I still have Czerka support!"

"Zaalbar…" I muttered. "I don't think some of them want to fight…"

Many of the Wookiees were looking between both us, Chuundar, and Czerka. Lost. Confused.

Zaalbar nodded at my words. "Those of you that side with Chuundar!" he roared at the other Wookiees. "Why would I have Bacca's blade if I was a true 'Mad Claw'? Why does only Czerka speak to my brother now? He cannot protect you with a hilt! Only a blade could. And if he truly protected you, then he wouldn't dare speak to them! Do you not see that they have taken over the Clan?"

At those growls, many of Chuundar's warriors lowered their bowcasters. Captain Dehno glared at the translation droid then at Chuundar.

"You will kill them all. Now. Or the deal is off, furbag!"

Those words triggered a primal, instinctual fear within the false chieftain.

"You want a fight, Father?" He unsheathed a vibroblade. "So be it!"

I unleashed my lightsaber after the first bolt unleashed from one of the Czerka goons. Zaalbar roared and all of the hunters charged both those who defended Chuundar and the Czerka guards. Some of the Wookiees on Chuundar's side betrayed their side and stabbed the employees with spears. Blood flowed in pools at their feet.

I focused on defending both Bastila and Verena—supporting HK-47 who made sure those that were injured were protected.

In the chaos of the fight, I lost sight of most of the Wookiees and half of our team. Lightsaber burns cut into any Wookiee that tried to skewer me with a vibroblade. Any Czerka fiend that tried to put a blaster bolt in either Verena or Bastila's head was beheaded. Summarily. Body after body. Death after death. It was a blur of blood, pain, destruction.

Something stung—a blaster bolt skimmed my side. I'd been so focused on defending myself from one of Chuundar's guards that I missed Captain Dehno hiding near one of the overturned tables. The coward...I hadn't expected him to actually join the fight. Hissed in pain, I ignored it as I bounded towards him. And before I could stab my lightsaber through his chest…

Captain Dehno soared through the air and over the railing. Screaming as he fell to his death.

Gaping, I twisted around.

Whoops. Bastila lowered her arms with a smirk. Meant to make him slip…

It took me a moment to register what just happened...before I smirked back. The Wookiee from before tried to take me off guard but with a flick from my lightsaber, his wooly arm fell to the wooden boards.

Eventually, only those who stood with Zaalbar and Freyyr remained. The Czerka droids had been destroyed, Chuundar's Wookiees dead, and Chuundar himself…

Zaalbar stood over his brother's body. A spear had been lodged in his chest. Blood pooled around the false chieftain.

"Brother…" he gasped. "You have made...a mistake…"

"Mistake!" Zaalbar roared. "No, Brother, you have made the mistake! You caused our tribe to suffer!"

"I only wanted to...protect…" The gray Wookiee's eyes glazed. "But I guess now...now you are...stronger than I…ever was..."

And, with those final growls, Chuundar took his last breath. The Wookiees around us raised their spears in triumph.

All except Zaalbar.

I hissed in pain at the sensation of cold kolto on the blaster burn. Carth raised a brow as I batted his hand away and rubbed the strip flat myself. I wiped my forehead of sweat and watched the resulting chaos.

The Wookiees piled all of the dead, from both sides, while throwing Czerka bodies over into the Shadowlands. Some wiped away the blood, some threw the broken tables over the edge, some watched the Shadowlands. Frozen. We all sat against the wall, waiting for both Freyyr and Zaalbar to return. Both were speaking to the village. Rounding up the climbers. Killing any remaining opposition. Preparing for battle. War.

Most of us had escaped that battle unscathed except for me, embarrassingly enough. Bastila and Verena were finally getting their wounds properly treated with kolto shots. One of the many benefits of Czerka integrating themselves within the village—all of their supplies were ready and available. Perhaps that would also be their downfall. Already, some of the Wookiee warriors were arming themselves with blaster rifles rather than spears.

I stood from the stool I'd sat in to get my dose of kolto and strode towards the team. Canderous still hadn't said a word since the incident with Jagi. And, honestly, it was more terrifying when the Mando was quiet than when he was boisterous.

I slid to the ground next to him.

He sighed. "I'm not in the mood, pipsqueak."

"Are you ever?"

The Mando shot me a glare. Eventually, he sighed again. "I'm not happy with the way my life has turned. During the war...I had been so sure that all of my actions were right. If I ever second-guessed myself, then those underneath me would either question my orders or...die because of my mistakes."

Another dead Wookiee was thrown into a pile.

He spat. "When the war ended at Malachor V...Veela wanted me to become Mandalore. She'd thirsted for vengeance against Revan and his armies. But so many of my men die that day. So many perished for a...for a cause most of them weren't even sure about. So the day the war ended, I left both her and the Clan.

"I traveled the galaxy searching for a fight. Any fight. But for myself not for others. I couldn't make others fight for me. Not anymore…" He paused. "Though, now I'm not even sure if that's what I want. I think I need something more than killing and fighting in my life. I need a...purpose or something like that."

I slapped his shoulder. "Stop. You're starting to sound mushy. It's...weird coming from a Mandalorian." I tilted my head. "If you still are one…?"

"Maybe I am...maybe not." He glowered. "What I do know is that the time of the clans is passed. I don't think the galaxy wants them anymore. Maybe in the future, but not now." His shoulders sank. "Which is why...if we ever run into Veela, I will tell her to disband Clan Ordo and stop trying to find Mandalore's mask. She has to listen to me."

"You know...you don't have to stick with us." I waved. "I don't own you—go out there and find her."

Canderous' eyes had a mysterious glint. "And miss possibly one of the greatest fights I've had since the war...no thanks." He bumped my shoulder. "And, for a pipsqueak, you seem to hold your own. Could rival me in a fight, I think."

I smirked. "You think?"

"Well, when we get back into space we could have to go at it—fisticuffs. Loser cleans the fresher." He grinned, evilly. "Both freshers."

I licked my lips while rolling up a sleeve. "Well then, prepare to lose!"

"Strange…"

"Huh?" I blinked. "What is?"

"What happened to 'a battle is probably the last place you'd find me?'"

"Probably the last place." I pointed. "Probably."

Canderous chuckled. "Didn't expect that coward in the sewers who ran away screaming like a little girl from a rancor to want a fight."

"What!" I shouted. "I did...I did not scream like a little girl! In fact, I didn't scream at all!"

Canderous patted my shoulder.

"Sure, pipsqueak."

Before I could curse out the Mando, he walked off...this time with a lighter jump in his step.

A few hours later, Clan Chorrawl arrived riding on many katarns. They still looked upon us with suspicion, yet they listened to the reinstated chieftain, Freyyr, that we could be trusted.

Now, with both Clan Freyyr and Clan Chorrawl rejoined as one clan, they both prepared their final assault on Czerka.

Our team marched along the walkway, making sure to keep an eye out for any stray kinrath spiders. The climbers sent by Zaalbar had already begun their assault—with orders to both free the slaves and to make sure that the Ebon Hawk was secured. Along the way, any Czerka patrols we ran into were attacked by the Wookiees guarding us.

It was slow going—there were still some injured and we couldn't go faster than them. The blaster burn at my side had begun to numb with the kolto, yet I still limped. Bastila was beginning to tire too—the bond had stretched thin. Honestly, I really just wanted to take a shower and get some sleep.

Finally, we arrived at the Czerka station. A burning, metal smell hit my nose. Something had exploded...ships. Freighters. I grabbed my lightsaber and looked back at our tired team.

The turrets sprung to life as soon as we hit their radius. I deflected them back and their shields rippled. Juhani used a burst of the Force to crush them while Carth shot the control panel for the forcefield. It fizzled before dying, allowing us to enter the wrecked Czerka Headquarters.

Screaming, dying, pain. The sensation of it drifted both in the Czerka building and near the debris of countless ships that had been ambushed and destroyed. Czerka employees had been stabbed...some were bleeding out on the walkway in front of us. In the bond, Bastila felt...horrified. And I probably was as well, a little. Freyyr's justice had been quick and deadly. But it was justice. Nothing had ever really held them back.

Zaalbar approached with a hung head. Blood matted his fur and Bacca's blade, which was now joined with the hilt, had been stained too. His shoulders lifted when he saw us.

"Czerka...has been defeated." I translated this to everyone. Before we all celebrated, he sighed. "They never stood a chance. It was a...complete massacre. Janos was rushed by the slaves we released…" I didn't translate and instead waited for him to continue. "Father asked for me to stay but...I still have my life debt to you, Wes. I can only stay if you release me."

I blinked then glanced over at Mission. She frowned but...otherwise, she didn't argue against the idea like I thought she would.

"Do you...want to stay?" I asked him. "I'll release you if you do."

The Wookiee hesitated.

Then, he nodded. "Yes, I...I think I would." He faced Mission. "We've stuck together for a long time, Mission, but there is a lot to do to rebuild. To...recover from Czerka, my father will need me more than ever. I'm not sure...that my people would welcome outsiders. Not for a long time, at least. I'm sorry."

The Twi'lek lowered her head. I almost thought she was going to cry...but then, she raised her head with a grin.

"Oh, Big Z!" She rushed at the Wookiee and hugged him tightly. "You don't have to apologize! Of course, you can stay!" After they hugged for a moment, the young Twi'lek took a few steps back. "After all, you don't need my help anymore!"

Zaalbar's tears became watery. "Maybe in a few years...after the Sith War...you can return. By then, I'm sure we will be able to repair our trust in outsiders." The Wookiee faced me again. "Thank you again, Wes! Without Bacca's blade...I don't think this would have been possible."

I shook my head. "It's as I said, the blade isn't a substitute for Bacca himself."

"Yes." The Wookiee's shoulders lifted. "Oh! And there are a lot of Czerka supplies and credits that I made sure my climbers didn't throw over the edge. Take all that you want for your journey. I know you'll need it..."

"We will." I faced our team with raised brows. "Ready to get out of this jungle?"

With crossed arms, I watched as containers after containers were pulled into the Ebon Hawk. I'd long since freshened up by stealing Czerka's showers and razors and was enjoying a clean shave. It had been a long time...I swear vines had started growing in awkward places.

The Ebon Hawk thrummed with life—Carth had gone in the make sure all of the systems were good to go. While Czerka had taken over the ship, T3 was able to prevent them from using it by blocking himself in the cockpit. The little droid scolded HK like a mother would about "abandoning him." HK responded with the usual threats and by charging up his new sniper rifle.

HK-47 now parked behind me, scaring any and all Wookiees that passed by. The droid was pleased with the chaos of today, I'm sure.

As for what we decided to take? Well, there were mines, grenades, weapons, cortosis-weave armor, shields...all of them Czerka quality, so they weren't the best. But it was better than the nothing we had before.

Verena grinned as she limped up to me. "Guess what?"

"Hmm?"

She pointed at the next container. "An entire load of Tarisian ale!"

I blanched. "Err...that's nice, but do they have Twi'lek liquor or...anything else?"

"Uh...maybe?" She narrowed her eyes. "Why? What's wrong with the ale?"

"It's made of tach glands," I whispered.

"Tach glands?" Verena sighed. "What...what would that even do?"

"No, believe me, you do not want to drink that shit."

"Well, it happens to be my favorite shit. So I'm still bringing it and I'm still drinking it."

And without another word, Verena marched up the ramp after the delivery of Tarisian ale. It was her funeral.

Everyone else had settled into the ship. After all of the containers of goodies finished loading, we were still waiting for Mission. She was saying he farewells to Zaalbar before we continued our quest to find the Star Forge.

Oh, and Bastila too.

She sauntered out of the Czerka building, hair still wet from a shower, and looking...radiant. Her nose had become red from the heat and the bruises and cuts on her face had faded with the use of kolto, revealing pale, clear skin. She was...beautiful. I'd noticed it before, of course, it was hard to miss. Yet we'd been dumped in Kashyyyk's wilds for so long that...

Someone cleared their throat.

I jumped back. Bastila had gone from being across the landing platform to only a meter away. My face flushed and I gazed off into the trees to hide it.

"Took you long enough."

She huffed. "It didn't take me long at all. You are just impatient."

"Oh, well, yes, for once you're right. I was impatient." I winked. "Impatient to see you."

Her eyes narrowed and the bond indicated that she was not amused. She pushed at my chest as she stormed up the ramp. I laughed then turned to watch her leave—because even though she wasn't amused, I still saw a blush on her cheeks.

A few minutes later, Mission staggered out of the building as well. Looking both dejected yet...at peace. She smiled as she saw me.

"Wes!" Her smile dipped. "When I...was saying goodbye, Big Z wanted to wish us all luck. And he told me...that if I did find my brother again that I should forgive him." She sighed. "I don't know...if I can though."

I shrugged. "You don't have to, really. You probably won't even see him again."

"Yeah, you're right." Her lekku fell off her shoulders. "Let's get out of here! What planet is next?"

As I followed Mission up the ramp, I rubbed my chin. "Hmm...either Manaan or Korriban—"

Boom!

We flinched at the sound of whining aircraft above our heads. Dark fighters rushed through the air, attacking the Czerka port with hot lasers.

The Sith had finally caught up to us.

"Oh, kriff."

We ran inside the Ebon Hawk and I dashed ahead into the cockpit. Carth had begun to rev up the engines and Bastila pulled the lever to disengage both the ramp and the landing gear.

I growled. "The Sith have very convenient timing!"

Carth shot me a look.

"Yeah, time to go!"

The Ebon Hawk lifted off the platform and rushed off into space. The three Sith fighters stopped the barrage on the Czerka platforms and made chase. Five red dots on the radar blinked close to the center reticle. The Hawk shot into space, drifting. We only needed to plot a course into the hyperdrive and we'd be in the clear.

"Where do we plot?" Carth shouted back at me. "They're gaining!"

Kriff. We couldn't leave these idiots behind. They'd attack Kashyyyk and all of what they did would have been for nothing.

"We'll figure that out after we deal with them."

"What?" Bastila shouted.

"Just keep avoiding them, I'll take care of it!"

I rushed towards the turret port and clambered up, ignoring the slight pain in my chest. Throwing myself into the seat, I grabbed the triggers and swung around to face the planet below.

Focusing on the Force, I aimed at the two fighters that sped towards us and pulled the triggers. The shots erupted from the gun and pummeled the dark craft until it exploded, taking out the one beside it. Grinning, I swerved around to focus on the other three.

Since we were now shooting back, they scattered and began to aim at the turret. The Ebon Hawk's shields rippled above me as I aimed again at the fighters. Once again using the Force to guide me.

Another one was shot down when Carth interrupted me over the comm.

"Yeah, we need to plot a course!" He was interrupted by more shots. "More of them could show up!"

A second one exploded...only for more fighters to appear out of hyperspace.

"Kriff! Why did you jinx it, idiot!"

"Wes!"

"I don't know! You decide!" I shouted. "Just plot a route and we'll figure it out later! Kriffing hell..."

"Fine!" Carth shouted back. I shot down another fighter. "Just hurry up! We'll leave once you take out the rest of them."

"Okay, Mom! "

Another fighter exploded—two more. They weaved in and out to avoid my constant barrage. But they didn't stand a chance. Once the last one exploded into space dust, I shouted at the comm.

"Let's get the hell out of here!"

"On it!"

The blue lines of hyperspace bent around the ship as we finally left both the Sith and Kashyyyk behind.

And the Kashyyyk arc is done! :) It's taken a long time...longer than I thought, honestly.

In my version of events, Zaalbar has been left behind. I did this because...well his arc is complete. It made sense to keep him on in the game since he's a companion, but it makes more sense that he would want to stay to help his people. And him leaving also has an effect on Mission. That isn't to say she would never see him again of course!

And...I've actually gotten to the end of my plotted-out material. For the next arc, I will need to take a break/some time to plan it out. I have many ideas on what is going to happen (and what I will change/add) but they're all jumbled up ideas. I want to make sure they're written in the best way possible. So you could say this is like the end of a season. The next update won't be as soon as the last few have been. Not sure how long it'll take, but it won't take too long, I promise you that!

I will keep the next planet a surprise in the meantime! ;) Thanks to those who have favorited, followed, and read to this point so far! I will see you next time!