The first explosion shook the mansion like a wounded beast. A deep, reverberating boom echoed through the halls, followed by the distant sound of crumbling duracrete. Dust rained from the ceiling. The floor quaked beneath them.

Seth's stomach dropped. Oh, kark.

Another explosion struck closer, the impact rattling his bones. He barely caught himself against the wall as a light fixture overhead snapped from its mount and crashed into the ground beside him. The Sith had started their bombardment.

Mission swore under her breath, steadying herself against a table. "Force-damn it—this is bad!"

Canderous was already moving. "The whole planet's about to be a crater!" he growled. "We need to move. Now."

Seth's feet felt rooted to the floor for a second too long. His mind spun. This wasn't just about stealing a ship anymore. This was Taris dying—millions of people who had no idea what was coming for them.

Another blast rocked the mansion, even closer this time. The lights flickered. The distant sound of a roof caving in sent a jolt of adrenaline surging through Seth's limbs.

"We have to go," Mission urged, grabbing his arm. Her voice was sharp, urgent.

Seth swallowed hard and forced himself into action. He couldn't let himself freeze. Not now. Not when there were still people waiting for them. Not when he had a job to do.

"Canderous, how far?" he asked as they sprinted toward the hangar.

"Few halls left," the Mandalorian barked. "If we don't get there before the next round of blasts, we're all dead."

A fresh wave of panic shot through Seth, but he pushed it down. One foot in front of the other. One breath at a time. Get to the ship. Get to your people. Get out.

Another explosion struck. The ceiling above them buckled.

Seth didn't think—he just reacted. He grabbed Mission and pulled her out of the way just as a chunk of debris slammed into the ground where she'd been standing.

They hit the floor hard, but there was no time to process it. Seth pulled her back up, heart hammering. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she panted. "But let's never do that again."

Canderous didn't stop, barely sparing them a glance. "Move it! Unless you wanna get turned to ash!"

They ran. They ran like hell.

The hangar doors loomed ahead, but before Seth could even process the relief of reaching their escape, the massive durasteel panels slid open from the other side.

Davik Kang strode in first, his plum-colored armor shining under the emergency lights. Calo Nord was right behind him.

Sithspit.

Seth's heart stopped. For a long second, no one moved. No one breathed.

Weapons were drawn in an instant. Davik's blaster was up, aimed squarely at Canderous. Calo's was already pointed at Seth.

"Going somewhere?" Davik asked, his voice as smooth as ever. But there was a new edge to it now, an anger barely restrained beneath his calm facade.

Seth could feel the tension, thick as Tarisian smog. They were one wrong move away from an all-out firefight.

Calo's icy blue eyes locked onto him. "You made a mistake, kid." His voice was low and deadly serious. "You're not leaving this hangar alive." Seth's fingers tightened around his blaster. He had the sinking realization that Calo Nord wasn't just posturing. He meant every word.

Canderous didn't flinch. He took a slow step forward, his rifle still lowered but his stance ready. "We don't have time for this, Davik. The Sith are tearing this planet apart, and you don't have the clearance codes to break through their blockade. You either let us take the Hawk, or you die with the rest of them."

Davik laughed. "You always had a death wish, Ordo. But you should've known better than to double-cross me."

Another explosion rocked the hangar, shaking the ground beneath their feet. The alarms blared louder. The clock was running out.

Seth's mind raced. They needed a way out—fast.

Think, Avery. Think.

Davik took a step forward. "If you hand over the codes, I might—"

Seth moved first.

He grabbed Mission's hand and yanked her into a full sprint toward the ship.

Canderous whipped his rifle up. Blaster fire erupted.

Davik barely had time to react before a burst from Canderous' repeater tore through his chest plate.

The crime lord staggered back, choking, before crumpling to the ground.

Calo didn't even blink.

He threw a thermal detonator into the air.

Seth froze. His breath hitched. Oh, kark.

The grenade beeped twice—once, twice—

A Sith bomb struck the estate.

The explosion tore through the hangar.

The ceiling collapsed.

A massive beam came crashing down—right on top of Calo Nord.

Seth was thrown forward by the blast, barely catching himself before he hit the durasteel ramp of the Ebon Hawk.

Canderous grabbed his collar and hauled him the rest of the way up. "Go! Get her off the ground!"

Mission was already at the controls, hands flying across the dash.

Seth stumbled into the copilot's seat, fingers scrambling for the launch sequence. His hands were shaking.

Behind him, the hangar was falling apart. Fire. Smoke. The wreckage of Davik's empire burning.

"Strap in!" Mission yelled, punching the thrusters.

The Ebon Hawk roared to life.

The engines burned hot. The ship lifted from the ground.

Seth gritted his teeth, gripping the controls. "Let's go get our people."

The Ebon Hawk shot out of the crumbling hangar, engines screaming against the gravitational pull of Taris. Seth's fingers clenched around the flight stick as he fought to keep the ship level.

Outside, hell was raining down.

The Sith bombardment had turned the Upper City into a firestorm of collapsing buildings and wreckage. Skyscrapers once towering and proud buckled and crumbled, sending plumes of black smoke into the sky. Streets ruptured, swallowed by flame. Taris was dying.

Seth's jaw tightened. They had minutes. Maybe less.

"Mission!" he called, voice sharp. "I need full power to the thrusters!"

"I'm on it!" she shot back, already at the console.

She wasn't snarking. She wasn't cracking jokes.

Her face was set in stone, lekku rigid with tension as her hands flew over the controls. This wasn't just any escape. This was home. And it was burning.

Canderous braced himself against the bulkhead as the ship rocked violently. "We need to move now or we'll be buried with this rock!"

"I know!" Seth snapped.

Then, the sensors screamed.

Sith fighters—dozens of them.

Kark.

"Hang on!" Seth yanked the controls, narrowly missing a collapsing tower as the ship dove toward the burning city.

Blaster fire raked across the hull.

Mission didn't flinch. "We have to get to them now!"

Seth fought the stick. "I see them!"

Up ahead, standing on the wrecked, barely-holding platform of their apartment complex, were Carth, Bastila, Zaalbar, and T3. The metal beneath them was giving out.

Seth's stomach turned to ice.

The building was seconds from collapsing.

"Mission, ramp controls—now!"

She didn't even respond—just slammed the override and extended the ramp before he finished the sentence.

Seth pushed the engines—the Ebon Hawk surged forward, cutting through the smoke.

A Sith fighter swooped in from behind, blaster cannons glowing red.

Canderous took the turret.

Seth's hands shook against the controls. Almost there.

The Ebon Hawk hovered over the platform, engines straining to hold steady.

Bastila didn't wait—she leaped first, landing hard on the ramp before turning to haul T3 up with the Force. Zaalbar leaped up, grabbing the edge of the loading ramp and pulling himself up easily before turning to pull Carth up as well.

Then the platform buckled.

Carth lost his grip.

Mission lunged—grabbed his wrist.

Her breath hitched—she was the only thing keeping him from falling into the abyss.

The city below was burning.

"Hold on!" Mission gritted through clenched teeth.

She groaned with exertion, trying with all her might to hang onto Carth without plunging down into Taris' depths under the force of his weight, until Zaalbar grabbed them both and hauled them onto the ramp.

Seth didn't wait. "We got them! Mission, close it!"

Her hands were shaking.

She smashed the ramp controls. The door sealed shut.

Seth yanked up on the steering yoke.

The Ebon Hawk roared skyward, leaving the burning wreckage of Taris behind.

Seth gritted his teeth, hands locked onto the controls as the ship twisted into a sharp evasive roll. "We've got fighters on us!"

Carth shoved Seth aside, sliding into the pilot's chair in one swift motion. "I've got it! Get to the turrets, now!"

Seth didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir!"

He was already moving, sprinting out of the cockpit. Blaster fire raked across the shields and the ship rocked violently.

Seth passed through the main hold, his eyes flicking toward Mission and Zaalbar.

She was curled into his side, fists gripping his fur as he held her tightly.

She wasn't talking.

Just staring.

The glow of hyperspace wasn't coming.

And outside the viewport, Taris was burning.

Seth forced himself forward. No time.

As Seth climbed into the top turret, he heard the lower gunner pod whirring to life. His headset crackled. "Alright, kid," Canderous' voice grunted through the comm. "Try not to embarrass yourself."

Seth flicked the turret's targeting system on. "You keeping score?"

He swore he could nearly hear Canderous' smile in his voice. "I always keep score."

Seth grinned despite himself.

The first wave of Sith fighters swooped in. Seth whipped his turret around, tracking one as it veered right. He fired.

Blaster bolts ripped through the Sith cockpit—

BOOM.

"One!" he announced triumphantly.

A second explosion rocked the ship.

Seth glanced at the lower turret display and his jaw went slack.

"Three," Canderous responded smugly.

Sure enough, three Sith fighters spun apart below them, engulfed in balls of fire from the Mandalorian's well-placed barrage of fire.

Seth cursed under his breath.

More fighters screamed past. Seth locked onto one, fired—

Another explosion.

"Two!" he shouted.

Canderous sounded bored. "Five."

"Are you kidding me?!"

Seth twisted his turret frantically, searching for another target. A pair of fighters cut across his sights.

He gunned them down in a hail of laser fire. Two fireballs bloomed.

"Four!"

"Seven."

Seth gritted his teeth. "How are you beating me?!"

"You ever hear of the Mandalorian Wars, kid?"

Another squad of fighters streaked in. Seth fired rapidly. One spun out, bursting into flame.

The second zigzagged—

Seth tracked it, held his shot—

BOOM.

"Six!"

"Nine."

Seth groaned.

A fighter shot toward him, lasers blazing. Seth ducked the turret, fired wildly—

Missed.

Before he could line up another shot, Canderous' turret blasted it apart.

"Ten."

Seth slammed a fist against the console in exasperation.

Carth's voice cut through the headset.

"Last of them—hold tight! Punching the codes in now!"

Seth watched as the remaining enemy ships peeled off.

The stars stretched—

And then, hyperspace.

Seth slumped back in the turret's chair as Canderous' voice crackled through the comms once again. "Nice try, kid. Better luck next time."

The hum of hyperspace filled the cargo hold of the Ebon Hawk, a low, constant vibration thrumming beneath the durasteel floor.

Mission sat perched on a crate, knees pulled tight against her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. She stared out at the endless blue void stretching before her, watching the streaks of light blur past the viewport.

For the first time in her life, the future felt like that.

Blurry. Uncertain. Gone.

The home she had known was nothing but ash and smoke.

The friends she had grown up with, lost to fire.

The streets she had walked, the vendors she had bartered with, the cantinas she had slipped into despite being too young—

All of it.

Gone.

Seth lingered in the doorway, watching her.

She looked so small. So unlike the Mission he had met in a cantina just weeks ago.

The one who had swaggered into his life, smirking, fearless, full of confidence and smart remarks.

Now?

She was quiet.

Still.

Just staring into hyperspace, like if she blinked, she might start crying again.

Seth stepped inside, his boots barely making a sound against the metal flooring. "Hey," he said softly.

Mission blinked, as if coming back to the present. Her eyes were red-rimmed, exhaustion darkening the edges, but she still managed a small smile. "Hey," she whispered.

Seth crossed the hold, pulling up a crate beside her. He sat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Just sat there.

Existing in the same space.

Both of them too tired to fill the silence with anything meaningless.

"How, uh…" Seth finally started, his voice low, uncertain, "How you holding up?"

Mission exhaled, a short, sharp breath. "I'm alright," she said automatically.

Then—almost immediately—

"Actually, no. No, I'm not."

Her voice broke slightly. She dropped her head against her knees. "But I wish I was," she admitted, so softly he almost didn't hear it.

Seth leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Mission," he said, voice steady but gentle. "You just lost everything."

Her breath hitched.

He wasn't going to sugarcoat this for her.

"You lost your home. Your friends. Your whole world."

Mission flinched at that. She turned her face away, like she didn't want him to see the way it twisted.

Seth kept going.

"And it's okay to not be okay."

Mission squeezed her eyes shut.

"Seth, don't," she whispered. "You're gonna make me lose it, and I just stopped crying."

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"Who are you trying to be strong for?" he asked softly.

A tremor ran through her fingers, curling tighter around her arms.

Then—like a dam breaking—

"I don't know!" she snapped, voice raw. She shook her head, and when her voice came back to her, it was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

Seth didn't hesitate. His hand lifted, fingers tilting her chin gently toward him. She didn't resist. "That's a lot of weight to carry all by yourself," he murmured. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

Mission stared at him, eyes glistening.

"That's why we're a team," he continued. "We shoulder each other's weight. We bear each other's burdens. Because none of us can be that strong all the time." His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Not even Mission Vao, the strongest girl I know."

Her breath shook.

She looked at him—really looked at him. And suddenly, the weight, the grief, the pain—

It all blurred at the edges.

Like maybe, for a second, there was something else to hold onto.

Mission's fingers loosened from around her knees, moving almost on instinct. Her breath hitched, and she leaned in. Seth's green eyes darkened, locked onto hers. His lips parted slightly, like he could already feel her there.

Then—

He pulled back, just slightly.

His fingers brushed against her cheek, gentle, hesitant. "I thought you wanted to wait on this," he murmured. "I mean… I'm still hurting."

Mission exhaled, long and uneven. "Yeah," she admitted. "But now I'm hurting too." Her voice wavered, but her eyes were steady. "And I realized… it doesn't change how much I want this."

She swallowed.

"Just how much I need it."

Seth's chest rose and fell shakily. "Good," he whispered. "Because I've wanted this since the moment we met in that Force-forsaken cantina, and I didn't know how much longer I could—"

"Seth?"

"Yeah?"

She gave him a small, broken laugh.

"Just shut up and kiss me."

Seth didn't need to be told twice. His hands framed her face, and then his lips crashed onto hers. Mission let out a quiet, breathless sound against his mouth, fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer. His hands sank into the small of her back, holding onto her like she was the only solid thing left in the galaxy.

And for a moment—

For a single, desperate, aching moment—

Everything else disappeared.

There was no fire. No death. No Taris, burning behind them.

Just them.

Just this.