If Seth thought fighting off a battalion of Czerka enforcers was rough, it was nothing compared to what happened when the rest of Rwookrrorro realized the throne room had turned into a war zone.
The battle spilled onto the village walkways, a tangle of Wookiees charging through the doors, their roars shaking the wooden structures beneath them.
It was chaos.
Freyyr's warriors surged forward to break the chains of their enslaved kin, while Chuundar's loyalists fought back with ferocious resistance.
And then there was Czerka.
Their forces—already clueless about the difference between Wookiee allies and enemies—panicked. Blasters fired wildly, striking friend and foe alike.
The moment Seth stepped into the fray, a massive Wookiee guard lunged for him, blade raised. His lightsaber snapped up just in time, locking against the heavy vibroblade.
Across the battlefield, Zaalbar roared, "[Don't kill my people!]"
Seth gritted his teeth, pushing his opponent back with a Force-assisted shove. "They're not exactly giving us much of a choice, Big Z!"
Zaalbar ducked under Chuundar's blade, knocking it aside with his own. "[If we kill them, we're no better than the slaver who corrupted them!]"
Seth exhaled sharply.
The Wookiee guard charged him again—
He focused inward, channeling the Force—
The Wookiee lifted off the ground, slammed against the wall, and slumped unconscious.
Seth turned back to Zaalbar. "Then you'd better figure out a way to get them on your side, because we are not gonna last against Czerka and Rwookrrorro at the same time!"
Mission had somehow managed to find a quarterstaff in the chaos and was using its blunted ends to fight back a group of Chuundar's Wookiees. Her movements were sharp, efficient—she wasn't trying to kill, just knock them out.
At the edge of the platform, T3 whirred into position, blaster extended. The little droid fired shot after shot, picking off Czerka enforcers one by one.
A shadow moved beside Seth—Juhani, breathless. "These Wookiees sure aren't making this easy," she muttered.
Seth exhaled. "Yeah, shockingly, a full-scale revolution is hard work."
Juhani's brow furrowed. "Where are Bastila, Carth, and Canderous?"
Seth turned just in time to see two Wookiees break from the fray, barreling toward them.
They barely exchanged a glance before raising their hands in unison—
A massive Force whirlwind ripped through the air, sending both Wookiees sprawling.
Seth adjusted his stance. "They were getting the Star Map when I left."
Juhani gave him a sharp look. "I'm struggling to understand why you thought it'd be a good idea to start this—" she gestured around them at the all-out war unfolding, "whatever this is—without them?"
Seth sighed dramatically. "If I had any choice, I would have. But Freyyr was coming up here no matter what. I figured I'd at least—"
Juhani's expression flickered. Her lightsaber ignited, a blur of motion as she leapt over Seth's head—
A Czerka guard lurched forward, blade raised. Juhani's weapon came down hard, slicing through the man's blaster before her foot slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling.
She landed smoothly, looking back at Seth pointedly.
Seth blinked. Then sighed. "You're welcome for the backup, by the way," he muttered.
The sounds of battle echoed through the trees.
Bastila bounced on her heels impatiently, arms crossed as she waited for the second wave of Mandalorians to ascend the lift.
Every second felt too long.
She knew they had reinforcements on the way—a rarity in itself—but that didn't ease the tension coiling in her gut. Every distant roar, blaster shot, and clash of vibroblades made it painfully clear that Seth and the others were already fighting for their lives.
A deep voice broke her focus.
"You okay, Princess?"
Canderous had peeled away from the cluster of Mandalorians, arms crossed, watching her a little too closely.
Bastila stiffened. "I don't need checking on."
Canderous smirked. "Yeah, well, I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous before." He tilted his head. "Actually—scratch that. I don't think I've ever seen you anything but calm and self-righteous."
Bastila shot him a glare.
He grinned wider. "Never mind. I have seen you angry plenty of times."
"Seth is taking part in a Wookiee revolution, and this is how you're spending your time?" she hissed.
He shrugged. "Just trying to keep you from pacing a hole into the walkway." His gaze flicked down to her boots, where she had indeed scuffed the wood from shifting her weight. "You're distracting."
Bastila let out a sharp breath. "The great warrior of the Mandalorian Wars cannot possibly be so easily distracted, I'm sure."
Canderous leaned against the wooden railing, spinning to face her. "Oh, I was plenty distracted during the wars."
Bastila frowned.
"I may have been one of the best damn soldiers in that war," he continued, "but I was also just a kid back then. Barely Seth's age. Trust me—there were plenty of times distraction got the better of me."
Her expression flickered. "It clearly never got the best of you. Considering you survived long enough to annoy me at every turn."
Canderous chuckled.
The lift creaked behind them, gears turning, but still too slow. Bastila's arms tightened around herself.
Canderous watched her carefully. "You know," he said casually, "we've faced worse odds than this."
Bastila's lips pressed into a thin line. "That doesn't mean the odds aren't stacked against us. Eventually, we lose to them."
Canderous's jaw tightened. "That's a cheap answer."
Bastila's head snapped toward him, eyes sharp.
He pushed off the railing. "I fought you Jedi for years. You lot never leave things up to chance. You believe in something bigger than that, Princess."
She dropped her gaze. "Don't call me that."
"Don't dodge the subject, Princess." His voice was sharper now. Serious. "Either you believe the Force is bigger than all this, or you're a hypocrite. And I don't think you're the latter."
Silence.
Bastila bit her lip, hard.
Canderous tilted his head. "So tell me—why not have a little faith that one of the strongest Jedi I've seen since Revan can hold the damn line until we get there?"
Something cracked in her facade. The anxiety didn't vanish, but the vice grip in her chest loosened. She hated that it was Canderous Ordo of all people who had pulled her out of it—but somehow, she hated the spiraling fear in her gut more.
A heavy thud snapped her back to the present—the lift locking into place.
Carth and Jolee led the final wave of Mandalorians onto the walkway.
Canderous grinned, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, boys." His voice dropped into something dark and eager.
"Let's go crack some heads."
Mission exhaled sharply, sweat dripping down her temple as another Wookiee crumpled at her feet, unconscious.
She adjusted her grip on her splintered quarterstaff, its once-smooth surface now jagged where a Czerka blade had lodged into it. Juhani had helped with that last one— a quick push of the Force ensuring the Wookiee wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.
Still, the exhaustion was catching up fast.
"Big Z!" Mission called, twisting her staff around to knock another attacker away. "Any way you can convince these guys to join you? Because it's really hard to knock out a Wookiee without killing him!"
From outside the throne room, Seth's voice rang out.
"Can I just say I agree with that sentiment?"
"[He can't persuade the most loyal of our clan from our most sacred tradition!]" Chuundar's growling voice cut through the chaos, snarling between heavy strikes as his blade locked against Zaalbar's. "[It doesn't matter how noble your cause may be—I still hold the hilt of Bacca's Sword!]"
The battle raged beyond the throne room.
Mission risked a glance over her shoulder, eyes flicking to the open doorway.
The air outside lit up with blasterfire.
She barely caught a glimpse of Seth's face splitting into a grin before he disappeared from view. "About time!" he shouted—then, a beat later—
"Wait, no, no, don't shoot them!"
Mission didn't have time to see what that was about, because a Czerka guard slipped inside, blade raised. Her quarterstaff came up just in time. The vibrosword crashed into it, the impact rattling up her arms—then splintering the wood in half.
Mission's grip tightened. She didn't panic. Didn't freeze. With a sharp breath, she drove her knee into the guard's ribs, shoving him back with a burst of strength she wouldn't have had a year ago. The quarterstaff was useless now—she tossed it aside, diving backward toward the nearest fallen guard.
Fingers closed around a discarded blaster. She rolled just as the Czerka soldier lunged again.
She fired twice.
The guard staggered mid-charge, falling forward, his blade nicking across her shin as he collapsed. Mission hissed in pain, clutching her leg. But there wasn't time to think about it.
Because at that moment, Canderous Ordo came crashing through the doorway, flanked by Mandalorians.
Fully armored. Fully armed. Fully terrifying.
Mission blinked. "Where the hell did he find an army—"
Canderous raised a blade over his head. "Zaalbar!" His voice was gruff, but triumphant. "A few of your Wookiee pals mentioned you'd want this!"
Something sailed through the air—
Zaalbar's eyes widened. "[Bacca's blade!]"
The relic spun, its metal catching the firelight, gleaming.
Zaalbar rushed forward to catch it—
But Chuundar struck first.
His blade slashed low, cutting deep into Zaalbar's calf. The older brother crashed to the floor.
Mission's breath caught. "Z!" she shouted, scrambling forward—
Chuundar cocked his arm back, ready to end it.
Mission's heartbeat pounded, deafening.
A sharp breath—
A blur of motion.
A second blade pierced through Chuundar's back.
The dark-furred Wookiee stiffened. For a moment, his expression was unreadable—shocked, frozen. Then, his blade slipped from his grip.
He crumpled.
And behind him, standing motionless, fists trembling—
Was Freyyr.
The blade he had driven through his son clattered to the floor, stained with blood. A deep, sorrowful roar rumbled from his chest.
Silence.
Then, heavy footsteps, running fast. Seth burst through the doorway, stopping short. His gaze flicked from Chuundar's lifeless form to Zaalbar, still on the ground, stunned.
Zaalbar's voice was quiet. Unsteady. "[What have you done?]"
Freyyr's ears drooped. His shoulders sagged. "[What I had to do.]" His voice was low, thick with emotion. "[I had already lost Chuundar a long time ago. I was not going to lose you too.]"
A beat.
Canderous exhaled sharply. "Not to interrupt, but there's still a massive battle happening, and a whole lot of Wookiees with no leader."
Freyyr turned, expression hardening. He bent down, pulling Bacca's hilt from Chuundar's grasp.
Then he turned to Zaalbar. "[They have one now.]"
Zaalbar's ears twitched in disbelief.
"[With the hilt, and now the blade, no one will question your rule.]"
Mission's gaze flicked to Zaalbar. His expression was shaken. Uncertain.
"[But I'm a madclaw]" he murmured. "[An exile.]"
Freyyr's eyes softened. He took the assembled sword from Canderous, pressed it into Zaalbar's hands. "[No. You are my son.]"
He straightened.
"[And today… today you are chieftain.]"
Zaalbar stared down at the ancient ceremonial weapon.
The same weapon he had never imagined holding.
His father's words settled over him like a weight too heavy to bear—yet somehow, something he had always carried. He glanced up at Freyyr. Then at Mission. She gave him a small, encouraging nod.
Seth stepped forward, voice gentle. "C'mon, Big Z." His lips curled slightly, but his tone was sincere. "Let's go unite your people."
Rwookrrorro was alive with celebration.
The scent of woodsmoke and roasted meat lingered in the air as Wookiees cheered, drums pounded, and children danced in the firelight. Seth leaned against the railing, watching the festivities unfold. A small, satisfied smile played on his lips as he took it all in.
The battle was over. And it was the dawn of a new era for the Wookiees.
Tal and his Mandalorians had stormed the Czerka outpost, driving the company off Kashyyyk for good. The Wookiees had rallied under Zaalbar, and even the most die-hard traditionalists had accepted his right to rule after seeing him wield Bacca's Blade.
A victory worth celebrating.
"Quite the party, huh?"
Seth turned as Carth stepped up beside him, his own arms folding over the railing.
"Judging by how mellow Zaalbar usually is, I'd never have guessed Wookiees knew how to throw a party like this," Seth mused.
Carth chuckled. "Apparently, high-energy victory celebrations are cross-cultural. This reminds me of more than a few assignments back in the day."
He glanced toward the bonfire, where Mandalorians clashed tankards of whatever passed for alcohol here.
"Though I will say," Carth added, "having the Mandalorians celebrating alongside us is… new."
Seth smirked. "Yeah, how exactly did Canderous manage to find half a Mandalorian clan in the Shadowlands?"
"Same way Mandalorians handle just about any diplomatic situation," Carth said dryly. "He challenged one of them to a death match."
Seth blinked. Then sighed. "Yeah. That tracks."
Carth grinned, but Seth's attention drifted toward Jolee and Freyyr, speaking in the distance.
"What do you make of him?"
Carth followed his gaze. "Having second thoughts about letting him join us?"
Seth shook his head. "Not really. But I hardly spent an hour with him before coming up here. Now, we're taking him to at least two more planets and the Star Forge, and I still barely know anything about him."
Carth exhaled. "Honestly? I don't know if anyone has a read on him yet. He doesn't seem Sith-aligned, but he's not exactly a Jedi fan, either."
"You don't trust him?"
Carth shrugged. "You know me. I'm not generous with my trust." His voice softened. "But… he talked Bastila out of a hell of a spiral back in the Shadowlands. That says something."
Seth nodded. "Maybe he'll surprise you."
Carth snorted. "Not counting on it. But I have been surprised before." He clapped Seth on the shoulder. "A certain Republic private keeps proving me wrong at every turn."
Seth smirked. "I try my best, sir."
Carth gave a good-natured chuckle before stepping away, his gaze drifting toward the food stalls.
Seth turned back to the celebration, his eyes searching.
Then—he found her.
Mission was crouched low among a group of Wookiee pups, a brilliant smile lighting up her entire face. She grasped one of their tiny hands, spinning the pup in time with the music, laughing as the others clamored for her attention.
Seth's chest tightened.
She was strong, fierce, confident—he'd seen that side of her a hundred times.
But she was also kind, gentle, endlessly compassionate.
He knew both sides. Knew her better than he had ever known anyone.
And yet—
He still wanted to know more.
Every small detail, every flaw, every strength, every dream.
Whatever it looked like to fully know Mission Vao inside and out— that's what he wanted.
The galaxy—Malak, the war, the Star Maps—all of it faded into the background.
For one breathless second, it was like his entire universe snapped into focus.
And suddenly—he couldn't breathe.
"You're in love with her."
Seth startled. He turned, blinking, as Bastila stepped up beside him. She was watching him with cool, unreadable eyes.
His mouth opened—then closed again.
Because… she was right.
"That's what you were trying to figure out, wasn't it?" Bastila's tone was too even. "What you were feeling?"
"How…?"
She exhaled sharply. "Surely you haven't forgotten that we share a Force bond. When your emotions are that…" she waved a hand as she searched for the right word, "intense…it's impossible to ignore."
Seth looked away, swallowing hard. "I don't know what to say," he admitted. "I know it's not… allowed. But I can't change how I feel."
"Then, for both our sakes," Bastila said stiffly, "I hope that if the time comes to make a difficult decision, you think with your head and not your heart."
Her voice was stern—but her eyes softened.
"I know how hard that is," she admitted quietly. "I failed that test in the Shadowlands. But no matter what happens, you're not alone, Seth."
Seth smiled slightly. "Thanks. But… I love her, Bastila. And damn it all if that's not exactly what's motivating me to see this through. I won't let my feelings for her disrupt our mission. They'll fuel it."
Bastila pursed her lips. "I don't think it's wise."
"I know."
She sighed, then hesitated. "Are you going to tell her?"
Seth thought for a moment.
"I mean… I don't know when you're supposed to say it, but right away seems kind of… I don't know. It's pressuring, I guess. I'm not trying to scare her."
Bastila studied him. Then, with rare affection, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Seth blinked at it. She did too. She cleared her throat and pulled back.
Seth laughed. "Careful, Shan. Someone might see you being nice to me."
She rolled her eyes. "I am capable of being nice."
"I'm not the one you need to convince," he remarked, gesturing out at the crew of the Ebon Hawk enjoying Rwookrrorro's festivities. "Our bond makes me the only one who can see who you are behind the mask you put up. And I gotta say, the real Bastila is the one worth knowing. They deserve to know her too."
She smirked. "Look at you, spouting wisdom. Maybe you will make a great Jedi."
Seth grinned. "Just call me Vandar 2.0."
She shook her head fondly. "Go on."
Seth turned back toward the party—toward her.
The firelight flickered against the wooden walkways, shadows swaying in time with the music.
Mission sat on the edge of a raised platform, her boots dangling over the side. Wookiee drums pounded in the distance, laughter spilling into the air as warriors celebrated their hard-earned victory.
She should have felt relieved.
Zaalbar wasn't staying.
She had spent the entire battle bracing for it. Preparing for the moment her best friend would choose his people over the crew—over her. But instead, he had chosen both. Freyyr would rule in his absence, leading the Wookiees into a new era of freedom. And Zaalbar—
Zaalbar was coming back to the Ebon Hawk.
So why did she still feel like she was losing something?
She pulled her knees up, hugging them close as she stared out over the flickering bonfires.
"Alright, what's wrong?"
She blinked, glancing up.
Seth stood over her, arms crossed, head tilted slightly. His voice was light, teasing—but his eyes were studying her.
Mission rolled her eyes. "Who says something's wrong?"
Seth raised a brow. "You're sitting alone not making fun of Canderous," he said. "Something's wrong."
Mission huffed, shaking her head. "You know, for a guy who's supposed to be an elite Republic soldier, you're way too observant."
Seth grinned. "Perks of the job."
He hesitated, then offered a hand.
"Come dance with me."
Mission blinked. "What?"
"You heard me," Seth said, his smirk playful—but his tone surprisingly soft.
Mission glanced past him to the crowd of Wookiees and Mandalorians celebrating in the bonfire glow.
Her stomach flipped.
"You're serious? Right here? Right now?" She paused, her eyes flicking up to his fellow Padawan standing on a platform not too far away. "In front of Bastila?"
"Right here. Right now. In front of Bastila," he confirmed.
Mission swallowed.
Seth wiggled his fingers. "Come on. I promise not to step on your toes."
She let out a breathless laugh before taking his hand. He pulled her to her feet with effortless ease. For a moment, she forgot the heaviness in her chest.
The drums played in the distance, but Seth's movements were unhurried, easy. Mission followed his lead, her hands settling in his.
"I didn't peg you as a dancer," she teased.
Seth smirked. "I'm full of surprises."
They moved slowly, stepping in time with the music, feet brushing against the wooden platform. Mission let herself sink into the rhythm. Seth's grip was steady, certain. She felt safe here, with him.
And that realization was terrifying.
Because even if Zaalbar wasn't leaving, Seth still could.
Because the war wasn't over. Because she knew what happened when you let yourself get too attached.
Seth must have felt her tension, because his voice dipped, softer now. "You okay?"
Mission bit her lip.
Then—instead of deflecting, instead of cracking a joke—
She nodded.
"I am now."
Seth smiled.
They swayed in silence, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The war, the Sith, the Star Forge—none of it mattered.
It was just them.
Seth exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening ever so slightly over hers.
Mission's heart stumbled.
But she didn't pull away.
And neither did he.