The Ebon Hawk's loading ramp lowered with a hiss, steam venting from the hydraulics as Carth Onasi stepped forward. He wasn't expecting trouble—not yet, at least.

Then he saw her.

A young blonde soldier, panting and wide-eyed, stood rigid at the foot of the ramp. She looked barely old enough to enlist, let alone carry the weight of whatever had sent her sprinting through Ahto City. Carth's gut tightened. He didn't need to hear her speak to know this was bad.

She snapped to attention, saluting so sharply he could hear the fabric of her uniform shift. "Private Drea Namm, sir. Republic Navy technological battalion 43, Manaan division."

Carth barely blinked. Drea. He hadn't made the connection before, but this was the girl Seth had been infatuated with back at the Academy.

And damn if she didn't look scarily similar to Morgana when they were younger. Same sharp, beautiful features. Same intensity.

But that wasn't what mattered right now. Seth mattered. Carth folded his arms, steady but firm. "At ease, Private. What's the situation?"

Drea didn't relax. "Private Avery—uh, Jedi Padawan Avery—and his team have been arrested by the Selkath."

Carth's jaw tightened. "On what charges?"

"Suspicion of tampering with the kolto sources down in the Hrakrt Rift."

His stomach dropped. Of all the stupid things they could've been accused of—that was one of the worst. Carth had spent a month stationed on Manaan during the early war. He knew the rules, knew how unyielding the Selkath were about their kolto supply.

This wasn't like getting thrown in a holding cell for starting a bar fight. This was serious.

His voice lowered. "How bad are we talking?"

Drea hesitated—just for a second.

Then she squared her shoulders. "Sir, I've seen people executed for picking fights. Seth—" she swallowed. "Seth caused explosions down there. He might've affected the Republic's only source of kolto."

T3 let out a low, sad dwoooo, the sound echoing in the metallic bay.

Carth exhaled sharply. Seth, what the hell did you get yourself into?

But there wasn't time for anger. There wasn't time to process. They needed to move. Now.

"We'll fix this, Private," Carth said, his tone firm with the kind of certainty only a leader could carry. Even if he wasn't sure if he believed it himself. He turned to T3. "Go get Zaalbar and Juhani. All hands on deck."

The little astromech beeped in understanding and wheeled off at full speed.

Carth looked back at Drea, his mind already running at hyperdrive. If they were going to save Seth and the others, they'd need a plan. A damn good one.

And they'd need it fast.

The low hum of the force cages was the only sound in the room.

Seth sat stiff-backed, legs sprawled out in front of him, arms locked over his chest. His eyes never wavered from the Selkath guard stationed by the door. His jaw ached. He'd been clenching it for the past hour.

Mission sighed from the next cell over, her back against the cool durasteel post as she slid into a seated position. "You're not gonna change anyone's mind by glaring at them, you know."

Seth's green eyes flicked toward her for half a second. Then he snapped them right back to the guard.

A few agonizing minutes crawled by. The silence stretched so thin it was almost suffocating.

And still, Seth didn't move.

Mission exhaled sharply. "Seth."

Nothing.

She rolled her eyes. "He's just doing his job."

The words hit wrong.

Seth's fingers dug into his arms, his muscles going tight. "His job?" His voice was sharp. Bitter. "You mean standing there, watching, while we're locked up like criminals?"

Canderous chuckled from the cell across the room. "You should sit down, kid. No point wasting your energy tensing up and glaring at the guard."

Seth's head snapped toward him. "I'm just pissed off, Canderous."

The Mandalorian shrugged, completely unbothered. "So? Sitting in your own anger isn't gonna fix it. Take a breath before you explode on one of us instead of the fish."

Too late.

"Yeah? Well, sorry if I'm a little frustrated that we were five minutes from getting off this rock before this kriffing mess dropped on us!" Seth snapped. His voice was hot, sharp, cutting.

Bastila, seated gracefully in the cell next to Canderous, let out a slow breath. She was perfectly still, poised in meditation—a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Seth.

"Calm yourself, Seth." Her voice was smooth, level. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

His mouth twitched.

"Don't start with that 'no emotions' load of crap, Bastila." His tone bit into the air like steel. "You're just as annoyed as I am. I can feel it."

Her eyes flashed, but her face remained composed. "Having emotions is one thing. Overcoming them is another."

Seth scoffed. "Oh yeah, because pretending everything's fine is really gonna help us get out of this mess."

The words were barely out of his mouth when Mission cut in.

"Seth!" Her voice was sharp, firm—but not cruel.

Seth froze. She had that look.

The same one she gave him when she was patching him up after a fight he had no business surviving.

The one that never failed to snap him back into reality.

Her voice softened. "Cut the attitude."

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then, finally—he exhaled. "…Sorry." His voice was gritted, reluctant—but real.

Mission nodded. "We're all on edge right now. We just need to take a breath and trust that Carth is going to figure out a way to get us out of this"

The heat in the room cooled, just a little.

Bastila shifted, giving a small but approving nod.

"Yeah, if he doesn't wet himself first," Canderous grumbled.

Mission turned her eyes toward the Mandalorian. "You're not off the hook either, Canderous," she said, arms crossing. "I know you don't like Carth. I don't really care. Right now, he's the only one not locked up. So unless you've got a better option, you're gonna have to trust him."

Canderous arched a brow.

Then, to everyone's surprise, he laughed. A deep, amused chuckle, shaking his broad shoulders. He leaned back against the wall, arms behind his head.

"Hmph. Kid's got fire." His smirk was damn near proud.

Seth blinked.

Something about that exchange stuck. Canderous was giving Mission credit.

And she deserved it.

Because she was right.

Mission was holding this team together when he couldn't. And for the first time, he realized—she always had. He let his head fall back against the durasteel wall, exhaling through his nose. "Alright, Mish. You win. We trust Carth."

Mission smirked. "Good choice, Hotshot."

And just like that, the weight on his chest felt lighter.

The holo-table flickered to life, casting green and blue hues across the dim main hold. Carth stood at the head of the table, arms crossed tight, jaw set. Juhani was beside him, hands clasped behind her back, sharp-eyed and poised.

Zaalbar loomed behind them, arms folded, rumbles of concern deep in his chest. T3 beeped anxiously, already interfacing with the ship's systems.

Drea hovered near the entrance, arms folded, brow furrowed. Her posture screamed rigid military discipline, but her fingers drummed restlessly against her arm.

She wasn't calm.

She was barely holding it together.

Carth noticed.

But they didn't have time to dwell on it. They had work to do. Carth's voice cut through the tension. "Alright. Let's lay it out. We need to work fast. The Selkath don't mess around."

Drea nodded sharply. "We don't have all the details, but what we do know is that Seth caused some kind of explosion down there."

Carth's jaw tightened. "Which means they're assuming he tampered with the kolto."

Juhani's eyes narrowed. "And we're assuming he didn't."

Zaalbar let out a low growl.

"That's just it," Drea exhaled, shaking her head. "Right before they took him in, he argued the charges." She paused, gathering herself. "He seemed to think he saved the kolto."

A silence settled over the room.

Carth tilted his head, frowning. "…Saved it? From what?"

Drea looked as perplexed as he was. "I have no idea. They marched him away."

Juhani's sharp yellow eyes locked onto the holo-table, thinking. "If he thought he was saving it," she murmured, "then there must have been a threat to it in the first place."

Drea nodded. "That was my thought, too."

"And if there was a threat," Juhani continued, "there's a chance the Selkath's own security footage caught it."

Carth exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Which means we need to access those feeds."

T3 beeped and projected a wireframe of the Hrakrt station's security systems. Carth winced.

Republic and Selkath encryption.

"That's a problem," Juhani murmured.

Zaalbar growled in agreement.

"More than a problem," Carth muttered. "It means we need to break through both firewalls at the same time, or we'll trip every security alert on the planet."

T3 let out a sad-sounding dwooo.

"I don't get it," Drea muttered. "T3's bypassed worse before, hasn't he?"

"He has," Carth said, frustration bleeding into his voice. "But these security firewalls? They're a whole different animal. Republic and Selkath encryption means we have to break through both at the same time—one tripwire, and we set off every security alarm in Ahto City."

Juhani folded her arms. "Which means… what?"

"Which means," Carth exhaled, "we need two hackers working simultaneously. Someone to break into the Selkath system while T3 works on the Republic side."

A heavy silence.

Mission was in jail.

Which meant their best slicer was off the board.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Then Drea hesitated. Shifted slightly on her feet. "I know a guy."

The force cages hummed softly, the flickering energy fields casting shadows against the durasteel walls. Seth had long since stopped pacing.

Now, he just sat. Not stiff-backed, not glaring, just… tired.

His head rested against the cold durasteel, his arms draped loosely over his knees. He exhaled, watching the blue tint of the force field flicker over his boots. The adrenaline had faded. Now, the weight of everything pressed down on him.

Mission sat a few feet away in her own cell, legs pulled to her chest, chin resting on her knees. She hadn't spoken in a while.

Neither had he.

For the first time in what felt like days, the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable.

It was just… there.

Then, finally—

"Seth?"

His head lifted, eyes meeting warm brown. "Mm?"

She shifted, crossing her legs and leaning forward with her elbows planted firmly on her knees. "I know this is probably the worst time and place to do this, but…" She exhaled. "I can't just sit here, so close to you, with this weighing on me."

Seth blinked, suddenly more alert.

She bit her lip. "Can we talk about us?"

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then, slowly, he sat up fully, legs folding underneath him. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We can talk."

She nodded, but still hesitated. Her fingers picked at the hem of her smuggler's pants—a nervous habit. "I just…" She exhaled. "I don't know what we are. Do you?"

Seth's brows knit together slightly. "You mean… if we're friends or—"

"Yeah," she cut in. "Because… people don't sneak into the cargo hold late at night to kiss their friends."

A lopsided, sheepish smile pulled at Seth's lips. "Fair point."

She didn't return it.

Instead, her voice softened. "I think that's why we need to talk, Seth. Because… I don't think we know what we are."

He frowned, not in frustration, but in thought. "I think we both know we're more than just friends, Mission."

She nodded. "Yeah. I do." She ran a hand over her face, exhaling. "But we jumped into this so fast, Seth. We've barely had time to figure out who we are on our own before we started figuring out who we are together."

Seth's throat felt dry.

"I think… I think I just want to slow things down," she admitted. "Because I don't want to do this wrong."

His heart tightened.

Not because he didn't agree—he did.

Because, deep down, he realized… he was terrified of losing her. Not to someone else. Not to circumstance. Just… losing what they had.

Mission seemed to sense it, because her next words were softer. "I'm not saying I don't want this. I do. I just… I want to do it right."

Her voice dropped slightly.

"I want to know you, Seth."

That one hit different. Her words weren't hesitant. They weren't about avoiding feelings, or sidestepping what was happening between them.

They were… committed.

It wasn't distance she was asking for.

It was time.

Time to build something solid. Something that wouldn't fall apart when things got hard.

Seth swallowed. Then, finally—he nodded. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Mission snorted. "Don't start with that."

"No, I'm serious." He leaned forward slightly. "You're smart, you're rational, and you're beautiful, and honestly? Slowing things down doesn't sound fun, but it sounds… right."

She met his gaze, slowly smiling. "You took that a lot better than I expected."

Seth shrugged, grinning. "I mean, I'm not excited about the idea of kissing you less, but…"

Mission laughed. "You'll survive."

"Barely."

She grinned. A comfortable silence settled between them.

Then, finally, Mission extended a hand up towards the force field, palm up. Seth hesitated, then reached out too.

They couldn't touch—not through the barrier. But their hands hovered inches apart.

A silent promise.

"Friends?" she asked softly.

Seth nodded. "Friends."

And there, on the floor of an Ahto City prison cell, he felt lighter than he had in weeks.

Carth didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Just stared.

"Drea," he said slowly. "Tell me you did not just bring a Sith onto my ship."

Trevin arched a brow. "Former Sith." His tone wasn't defensive—just matter-of-fact.

Carth's scowl deepened. "Not a big enough difference."

Drea held her ground. "Sir, you don't have to like it," she said, tone firm. "But we don't have any other options. We need a second slicer, and unless you can magically conjure Mission out of a jail cell, Trevin's our guy."

Carth exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "You're sure he's on our side?"

Trevin met Carth's stare without flinching. "I don't owe the Sith a damn thing," he said. "But I do owe Seth."

Carth hesitated.

Not at the words.

But at the absolute certainty behind them.

Drea glanced between the two men, then sighed, exasperated. "Can we stop posturing and just get to work?"

Trevin smirked, looking at her. "You always know how to cut through the nonsense, don't you?"

Drea rolled her eyes. "And you always know how to test people's patience."

Trevin's smirk softened. "Yeah, but you like me anyway."

Juhani, who had been quietly observing, let out a small, amused exhale.

Carth's frown didn't budge.

But… he turned. "Get inside. We're on the clock."

Trevin followed. "Now you're speaking my language."

Inside, the Ebon Hawk's main hold was bathed in the glow of the holo-table. Trevin slid into the chair at the console, feet kicked up onto the edge of the table, already scrolling through deep encrypted code. "Let's hope your droid can keep up."

T3 beeped, offended.

Trevin glanced over. "Whoa, whoa. No offense, buddy." He smirked. "You're good. But slicing firewalls is kinda my thing."

T3 whirred aggressively.

Juhani arched a brow.

Carth folded his arms. "Can your ego keep up with my droid?"

Trevin chuckled. "Let's find out." He cracked his knuckles and leaned in. "Alright, Flyboy. Let's get your Jedi out of jail."

Trevin worked fast.

Faster than Carth was comfortable with.

His fingers moved at hyperspeed across the console, bypassing security blocks like they were nothing. T3 beeped and spun his dome, shifting data at a rapid rate. The holo-table flickered as layers of encrypted feeds peeled back.

"Damn," Trevin muttered. "They're good. Not as good as me, but still."

Drea crossed her arms. "Less gloating, more slicing."

Trevin shot her a lopsided grin. "Yes, ma'am."

Carth leaned in. "How close are we?"

Trevin didn't look up. "Two minutes."

Juhani's ears twitched. "That's… fast."

Trevin smirked. "You sound surprised."

"You should be surprised," Carth muttered.

One minute passed.

Then—

T3 let out a loud, triumphant beep.

Trevin sat back with a smirk. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you break into two of the most secure networks in the galaxy at the same time."

Carth ignored him, eyes locked on the holo-table as a security feed flickered into view, taking note of what he saw: The deep ocean floor. Seth's yellow envirosuit. The colossal shadow of the of a firaxa bigger than the Ebon Hawk itself. The kolto harvester exploding.

And then—

The massive firaxa turning to Seth.

Watching him, then… swimming away.

"What the hell is that thing?" Carth breathed.

"If I had to hazard a guess," Trevin said casually, "that's the Progenitor. A legendary firaxa that the Selkath believe is the ancient protector of all kolto. They revere the thing."

Drea exhaled. "He did save the kolto. He saved its protector."

"Then that's enough evidence not only to break him out of prison," Trevin mused. "It'll be enough for the Selkath to pin a damn medal on his chest."

Carth's gaze didn't move from the footage. His scowl softened—just a little. "Alright," he muttered. "Let's go get our people."

The Selkath courtroom was oppressively silent.

It wasn't just the size of the chamber—tall, domed, the walls lined with intricate aquatic carvings. It wasn't just the rows of solemn-faced Selkath officials, watching from their high seats.

It was the atmosphere.

Thick. Heavy. Condemning.

Seth stood at the center of the chamber, wrists bound, jaw clenched. To his right—Mission, arms crossed, tension clear in her stance. To his left—Bastila, composed but stiff, her hands locked behind her back. And next to her—Canderous, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Before them, at the head of the courtroom, three senior Selkath judges loomed above them, their eyes dark and unreadable. Seth felt the weight of their stares.

Felt the weight of this moment.

The central judge spoke first, his deep, resonant voice filling the chamber. "[You stand accused of tampering with the kolto supply of Manaan. Of bringing destruction to the sacred ocean floor, and disturbing the balance of our world.]"

The second judge leaned forward. "[If these charges are proven, there will be no mercy. The laws of Manaan are absolute. The sentence will be swift and severe.]"

Mission stiffened beside Seth. Canderous scoffed, muttering under his breath.

Seth kept his expression neutral.

But inside?

He was already preparing to fight his way out.

The third judge's gaze landed on Seth. "[Speak, outsider. How do you plead?]"

Seth exhaled slowly.

Here we go.

"I won't deny that I caused an explosion down there." His voice was steady, deliberate. "But I didn't do it to tamper with the kolto."

The first judge's eyes narrowed. "[Then explain yourself.]"

Seth took a breath.

And began.

He told them everything. The madness of the Selkath. The firaxa attack. The Republic scientists barely escaping with their lives. The kolto harvester, and the monster that lurked near it.

"And that's when I saw it," he finished. "A firaxa unlike any I'd ever seen. Massive. Watching me." He met the judges' gaze. "I didn't understand at first. But I do now."

The courtroom was silent.

The first judge's expression darkened. "[And what, exactly, do you think you understand?]"

Seth's fingers curled into fists. He forced himself to stay calm. "The Progenitor," he said evenly. "That's what you call it, right?"

A ripple of murmurs swept through the chamber.

The second judge shifted. "[You speak dangerously, offworlder.]"

Seth held his ground. "The harvester was disturbing it. Agitating it. I didn't attack the Progenitor. I didn't harm the kolto. I destroyed the machine that was making it lash out."

His voice lowered.

"I saved it."

"[Lies.]" The head judge's voice was cold. "[You expect us to believe that an outsider would do such a thing? That you risked your life for the balance of our world?]"

The third judge scoffed. "[Convenient. That the only one who can verify your story is the 'Progenitor' itself.]"

The second judge leaned forward. "[Unless you have proof, this tribunal has no reason to believe your words.]"

The tension in the room doubled.

And Seth's heart sank.

Because they didn't have the evidence yet.

The head judge raised a hand.

"[The accused will be sentenced for their crimes—]"

Then—

The doors slammed open.

"Wait!"

The voice rang through the courtroom.

Carth.

Seth's head snapped up, relief hitting him like a punch. Carth strode in, Drea at his side, T3 beeping frantically behind them. And between them—

Trevin, datapad in hand, smirking like he'd just broken into the Sith archives and lived to tell about it.

The judges stiffened. "[This trial is closed to—]"

"We have evidence." Carth's voice was sharp. "You wanted proof? We've got it."

Trevin tapped the datapad. The holo-table in the center of the room flickered to life.

And the security feed played.

The explosion.

The Progenitor.

The firaxa turning away.

The judges watched.

And as the video ended…

The courtroom fell into absolute silence.

There was a sort of dysfunctional family reunion when they all made it back to the Ebon Hawk. Zaalbar was the first down the ramp of the freighter, meeting Mission before she'd even made it ten feet into the docking bay and picking the young Twi'lek up off the ground in a crushing Wookiee hug.

She laughed as best she could through her compressed diaphragm, patting her best friend's hairy shoulder. "Missed you too, Big Z," she wheezed. "Can't breathe."

Zaalbar placed her back down on her feet and she smiled up at him thankfully. She glanced past the Wookiee to see Carth approach Seth and give the younger man a firm handshake and clap on the back. Her lips quirked into a small smile as she thought of how Seth's spirits must have been soaring at his mentor's visible pride in him.

Mission didn't expect Drea to approach her first.

She was used to their unspoken, unintentional rivalry—both orbiting Seth but never truly colliding. So when the blonde girl hesitated in front of her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Mission felt a flicker of surprise.

Nervous habit. Mission did the same thing with her lekku.

Maybe they weren't so different after all.

"So," Drea said, offering a small smile. "You're off to Kashyyyk?"

Mission nodded. "Yeah. It's gonna be a change of pace. No offense, but after spending weeks on a planet where people get arrested for sneezing too loudly, I could use a little lawlessness."

Drea laughed—a real laugh, not forced or bitter. "I get that. I grew up on Naboo. This place has never really felt like home."

Mission tilted her head. "Naboo? Huh. Fancy."

"Seth mentioned you were from Taris. Not too similar to Naboo, I take it?"

"Not in the slightest," Mission snorted. "But with plenty of adventure around every corner. Seth adjusted to the city a whole lot better than he did here."

Drea's smile softened. "Yeah. He never was great at standing still."

For the first time, Mission saw it.

The understanding in Drea's eyes.

This wasn't a rivalry. It never had been.

"You really are who he's been looking for," Drea murmured. "And who I could never be for him."

Mission didn't expect that. She also didn't expect the relief that washed over her.

"He can be a real pain in the ass sometimes," she admitted.

"Yeah," Drea agreed, grinning. "But he's worth it."

"He is." Mission hesitated, then—because it felt right—she met Drea's gaze. "Thanks for taking care of his heart back at the Academy. And not playing with it. That's rare."

Drea blushed slightly, shaking her head. "We were never really together. But he mattered to me. And I wanted to matter to him. I think, for a little while, I did."

Mission nodded. "Well… you do now. Just not in the same way."

And Drea smiled—because she understood that, too.

Seth appeared beside them, placing a hand on Drea's shoulder. "Hate to say it," he said gently, "but we should probably get going."

Drea nodded. But before stepping back, she reached up and pulled him into a tight hug. "Be safe, okay?"

"Will do," Seth murmured, burying his face in her hair for a brief second.

And then—he let go.

They stepped apart, and for the first time, it didn't feel unfinished. Drea turned to Mission one last time. "Take care of him, okay?"

Mission didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I will."

Drea walked away without looking back. Seth and Mission watched her go. The past felt lighter. The future felt closer.

Mission turned to Seth, brown eyes bright with anticipation. "So the adventure continues."

Seth exhaled, letting it all sink in. "No more oceans," he muttered.

Mission grinned. "Good. I've had enough fish for a lifetime."

They stepped up the ramp, side by side.

And the Ebon Hawk lifted off, disappearing into hyperspace.