"What did you do?!" Soni demanded as she stormed into her father's office at the defense building.
"Sonibelle, what are you doing here?" her mother, Seraphine, asked in alarm, nearly spilling her tea.
"How could you arrest Wyb? After all he did! I'm alive because of him!" Soni's glare shifted to her father, her voice sharp with accusation. Cowin didn't answer right away. He gave her a long, stern look, the kind that made her stomach tighten with disgust.
"Come now, dear," Seraphine said gently, placing a hand on Soni's arm, trying to guide her away. "I know you're feeling better, but you need to rest—"
"Don't touch me," Soni snapped, knocking her hand away.
"Sonibelle!" Seraphine gasped, but Soni didn't flinch. Her focus remained locked on Cowin.
"Tell me why!" she said. "I've done everything you've asked for the sake of this family, and I demand to know—for what?!"
Cowin sighed and waved a hand dismissively to his wife. "Give us a minute, Seraphine."
Seraphine blinked, caught off guard. Cowin had never dismissed her in such a fashion. Still, she obeyed, leaving the room with one last uncertain glance at Soni, whose stance hadn't softened.
"Now," Cowin said as he leaned back against his desk, picking up a datapad, "we can either have this conversation civilly, or you can keep shouting."
Soni took a step back, arms crossed. "Fine," she said, her voice tight.
"I'd hate to think this is how you conduct yourself in the field," he said with a faint, mocking smile.
"What do you know about the field?" she shot back.
"More than you realize," Cowin said evenly. He held up the datapad. "Your friend is of interest to... a connection of mine. His biometrics just came in from the jail processing."
"Biometrics?"
He handed her the datapad. "I needed to confirm some information before moving forward."
"This is a witch hunt!" Soni cried, gripping the datapad tightly. "And you're the one holding the torch!"
"That temper," Cowin said with a small chuckle, ignoring her words. "You get that from your mother. Though, over the years, she's learned to temper it, as will you." He stood and moved toward the large window overlooking Coruscant's skyline. "She understands that my methods are risky but yield results. This is no different Sonibelle."
"I know about the trafficking and why they impeached you from the Senate," Soni said darkly.
Cowin turned back to her with a smirk.
"I found everything—documents, recordings, communications. You were sloppy."
"And what did you do with all of it?" he asked smoothly.
Soni hesitated, her hands tightening on the datapad. She looked down, ashamed. "I destroyed it."
Cowin approached, placing a hand on her shoulder and lifting her chin with his fingers. "You did your duty. You chose your family."
"Is that why you and mother funneled me to the NRI? To clean up your mess?"
"No," Cowin replied. "But it was a great benefit and confirmation of your commitment to your legacy. What I didn't expect was for you to follow the thread back to the tapestry."
Her jaw clenched. "It's my job to uncover the truth."
"And there's where I underestimated you," Cowin admitted, almost softly. "For that, I'm sorry. And for the record, my dear daughter, you were never in real danger on Tatooine. My connection is what kept you and your first command alive."
Soni let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to the Nihil pirate with a force pike."
Cowin didn't respond to her sarcasm, his expression darkening. "Pirates. The admiral must be desperate. No matter—this new information changes everything."
"What are you talking about?"
He nudged her to look at the datapad. Her eyes scanned the screen, taking in Wyb's mugshot and biometric data. There was a notification in the corner, and she tapped it. Her breath caught, and the datapad slipped from her hands, clattering onto the floor.
"Does he know?" she whispered.
"No," Cowin said, folding his arms. "But the shadow council will be most interested to learn that Admiral Daala is a fraud—unfit for her rank and hiding the truth about Tarkin's bastard."
Her chest tightened. "Shadow council? Admiral Daala?"
Cowin nodded. "You see, Sonibelle, I've made mistakes—disregarding your talents among them. I regret the lives lost under your command. Truly, I do. But securing our family's place in the New Order is worth every sacrifice. The Noya family will finally be recognized the way it should be."
She froze. "New Order?"
"I trust you understand what's at stake," he continued. "Your mother will come around. With you and me aligned, she'll follow."
Her blood ran cold. He was a traitor.
"What about Wyb?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
"He's the key to severing our arrangement with Daala. The shadow council will see that her title was nothing more than a bribe to protect her illegitimate child."
"What will you do to him?"
Cowin's tone was matter-of-fact. "He'll be stripped of his rank, imprisoned, and likely forbidden to fly under New Republic marks. His guardians on Lothal will be reprimanded as well for being imperial sympathizers, their land seized for the New Republic. There's no place for a Tarkin or his allies among us. That time is over."
"His name is Tersu. It's their home," Soni said. Her voice cracked, but Cowin's glare silenced her.
"Tersu…hardly a name for a boy from such a powerful line. Tersu is a name that belonged to a poor farmer whose wife ran off, his twins splintered, one serving the Empire, and the other rebelling. Disgrace. It will soon be erased," he said coldly.
Soni swallowed her anger. "I have a request. Let me bring him in for the hearing. I want to thank him... and tell him the truth."
Cowin studied her for a moment, stroking his beard. "It'll disorient him and weaken his ability to protest. Especially given the way he feels about you." He nodded. "Very well."
"Thank you, Father," Soni said, turning to leave.
"Soni," he called after her. She paused. "I'm proud of you."
She nodded once, knowing it would be the first and last time she'd ever hear those words from her father.
Soni rushed toward the jail within the naval base. She and Wyb knew the place well from their cadet days, sneaking down to catch glimpses of prisoners brought in from the Outer Rim. Back then, Soni had been fascinated by the strange array of characters, while Wyb had only smirked, amused by her amazement.
The cold air of the lower levels bit at her cheeks as she turned the corner toward the hallway of cells, only to nearly collide with Denz Loncak.
"Agent Noya," he acknowledged, his voice dripping with disdain. "What are you doing down here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back, her tone sharp.
The two glared at each other.
"I have to say, Soni, I'm surprised by you," Denz began, shaking his head. "I thought you were Tersu's friend."
"I am," she replied firmly.
"This is not how you treat a friend!" His voice rose, echoing off the metal walls. His boots scuffed against the floor as he shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand against the wall to steady himself. "I never thought I'd see the Republic rot from within like this. After everything I sacrificed, everything I fought for, the people I've lost—I thought it would at least buy us peace and loyalty among its own."
"I am not my father," Soni said, her voice low but resolute. Denz turned to face her fully, searching her face. "And I'm not going to let him use Wyb as a political pawn."
Denz leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What did you have in mind?"
"It's better if you don't know the details," she whispered back. "But if you can secure a path through the east wing to the port, I'd greatly appreciate it."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Denz's mouth. He clapped her shoulder once before stepping back. "Once a rebel always a rebel. I'm in."
Soni exhaled, watching as he disappeared down the corridor. She had always admired Denz—his journey from the son of an Imperial ambassador to rebel hero and ambassador for the Republic was legendary. He had lost everything when he'd chosen to help his friend, Lee Tersu. But even so, he never turned his back on the Republic. Instead, he'd continued his service in the navy. He was a true defender of peace, if Soni had ever seen now, she realized, she wanted to do the same.
She approached Wyb's cell and called out softly, "Wyb."
In the corner on the floor, he stirred. His head was bowed, his hands still in binders.
"Soni?" He rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What are—"
"There's no time to explain." She deactivated the energy field and took his hands, her fingers brushing against the cold metal of his binders as she released him. "You have to run."
"Run?" Wyb tilted his head, his confusion deepening. "Why? Soni, I'm under arrest. I have a hearing at the defense council within the hour. Even if I did run, I don't have a ship."
"There's one waiting for you at the east port," she said quickly. She pulled a data stick from her pocket and slipped it into his shirt, letting her hand rest against his chest for a moment. "R3 and Kyla are aboard. Wyb… don't look at this information alone. Have Kyla with you."
"I don't understand," he said, rubbing his wrists where the binders had left marks. "Why are you doing this? You'll ruin your—"
"Because I was wrong," she interrupted, her voice cracking. She looked him in the eye, her expression raw with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Wyb. For everything. I should've gone with you to Adelphi. I should've answered your messages. I should've never trusted my father. And now—it's too late."
Wyb's gaze softened. He had always known her choice had been influenced by her father's ambition, but hearing her admit it was something else entirely.
"Soni," he began, but his words were silenced as she stepped closer and pressed her lips to his.
For a moment, he froze, his breath catching as her hand slipped to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him firm, desperately, and full of everything she had never been able to say and never would. He didn't kiss her back, but he didn't stop her either. He had wanted to know what it was like for a long time. And now when he needed to go he couldn't pull himself away.
"Go," she whispered, stepping back, her eyes filled with tears.
He hesitated, his gaze lingering on her, before nodding and slipping out of the cell. Soni watched him disappear down the hallway toward the east port, her heart pounding. If there was one thing Wyb was good at, besides flying, it was running. Thanks to both his mothers, he'd had plenty of practice.
Cowin Noya stood proudly at the center of the Defense Council chamber, his presence commanding the room with practiced authority. "Esteemed members of the Defense Council," he began, his voice ringing with solemnity. "I am deeply grateful for the trust you have placed in me. This is not only a matter of Republic security but, I must admit, a personal one."
"Mr. Noya," interrupted a senator, her tone clipped as she tapped impatiently on the datapad before her. "If you could kindly get to the point. We have a full agenda today."
"Of course, Senator," Cowin replied smoothly, with just a touch of condescension. "I remember well the grueling schedules you all endure. As you are aware, my daughter, Agent Sonibelle Noya, was recently taken captive on Tatooine, along with her NRI unit, while gathering intelligence on the alarming rise of piracy in the Mid and Outer Rims."
From the public seating area, Rya leaned toward Rillo, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's lying," she said, her tone bitter.
"Why don't you call him out?" Rillo whispered back, eyes darting nervously toward the council members.
"It doesn't work that way," Rya replied, her jaw tightening as she focused back on Cowin's performance.
Cowin's voice swelled with carefully measured emotion. "To my immense relief, my daughter and assistant escaped thanks to the resourcefulness of New Republic Ranger Wyb Tersu." He gestured grandly, and a holographic image of Wyb's mugshot appeared above the council floor, rotating slowly for all to see. Gasps rippled through the room, but Cowin pressed on, unfazed. "However, in our investigation, we uncovered disturbing facts. It appears Ranger Tersu secured their escape by negotiating with none other than the notorious crime lord and former Imperial contractor, Boba Fett."
Murmurs filled the chamber, but Cowin raised a hand, commanding silence. "While this collaboration ensured their safe extraction, it also raised concerns. An anonymous good Samaritan," he paused meaningfully, "suggested we take a closer look at Ranger Tersu's record. And what we discovered…" He turned toward the council, his tone now grave, "…was shocking."
The holoprojector flickered, replacing Wyb's mugshot with a cascade of data, including a stark header: Parental Lineage: Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin and Admiral Natasi Daala. Audible gasps echoed around the chamber. Rya flinched as if the information had struck her physically, her hand instinctively gripping Rillo's hand for support.
Cowin's voice carried above the chaos, feigning disappointment but brimming with calculated malice. "Yes, Wyb Tersu is not the foundling he claimed to be in his Naval Cadet application. He is, in fact, the biological son of two of the most notorious figures of the Galactic Empire."
"No," Rya said, her eyes narrowing as her mind raced. She could feel it—the trap Noya was setting, the threads he was pulling to weave his narrative.
Cowin stepped back toward the center of the room, his voice quieter now but no less commanding. "I ask this council to consider: how did the pirates acquire such precision, such ruthlessness, in targeting Republic operations near Adelphi? What secrets might a man like Tersu be keeping? And most importantly, can we truly trust someone with this lineage to serve the New Republic?"
Cowin Noya straightened, basking in the ripple of unrest he had stirred in the council. He opened his mouth to continue his diatribe, but before he could speak, a uniformed guard approached him from the side, his expression tight with urgency.
"Mr. Noya," the guard said, leaning in to whisper but loud enough for nearby council members to overhear. "Ranger Tersu… he's gone."
Cowin froze mid-sentence, his jaw tightening. His carefully composed demeanor cracked as he turned to the guard, his voice rising. "What?!"
The word echoed sharply in the chamber, drawing every eye. Cowin's face darkened, his confidence replaced by fury. "How is that possible?" he demanded. "He was supposed to be in custody! My daughter was—"
"We don't know, sir. He… vanished from his cell. Security feeds were looped, and there's no trace of where he's gone," the guard hesitated, clearly nervous.
"Sonibelle," Cowin muttered, his hands clenched into fists, and for a moment, his mask of control slipped entirely. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure. Turning back to the council, he said, "This only proves my point. Wyb Tersu is a dangerous individual—one who has now evaded justice. I urge this council to act swiftly and treat this matter with the utmost seriousness."
The murmurs grew louder, tension crackling in the air. Cowin's attempt to reassert control didn't seem to entirely soothe the council's unease. The information he had unveiled was damning, but his obvious anger at losing Wyb undermined his air of authority.
From the public seating area, Rya and Rillo exchanged a glance. Rya's expression was a mixture of disbelief and worry, her hand still in Rillo's.
"That a boy…" Rillo started, but her voice faltered.
Rya shook her head slightly, her gaze locked on Cowin, her grip on Rillo's hand tightened. "We need to tell Lenore.."
Rillo nodded, his throat tight. "You sure about that? She might go after him."
"She's his mother," Rya said, her voice low and resolute. "If anyone is going to figure out where Wyb went, it's her."
"Lenore!" Jord yelled from the kitchen door. She was already striding toward the blurrg pen when he caught up to her. "What do you think you're doing?"
"What does it look like?" she snapped, throwing a saddle onto the nearest blurrg. "Now get out of my way."
Jord planted himself in front of her, gripping her arm gently but firmly. "You can't go after him. You heard Rya—the New Republic is already hunting him."
"All the more reason why I need to find him first."
"'Nore," Jord said, his voice softening, "we don't even have a ship anymore, not since we lost the Spitfire."
"I'll find him, Jord. He's out there. I know he is."
"You're not the 'Deliverer' anymore," he reminded her, a trace of sadness in his voice. "The best thing you can do is stay put. Have a home ready for him to come back to. He'll find his way here."
"I can't just sit here and wait! Not after knowing where he came from. He'll be crushed. I need to see him. I need to tell him," she shouted, the ache in her chest breaking free at last. "He's my son!"
"He's our son," Jord said, stepping closer. He cupped the back of her head, leaning his forehead against hers. His voice dropped to a whisper. "He needs you alive, Lenore. If you run off like this, in the state you're in, you might not come back. He needs you to be strong for him. To be here when he's figured all this out."
Lenore's breath caught, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "Please help me. We can find him, I know it," she pleaded.
Jord brushed the tear away, his expression pained. "I know how much this hurts, but you have to trust him. He's capable—more than you think. He'll find his way out of this."
She nodded shakily, stepping back. "I need a walk," she murmured, wiping her cheek.
"I'll come with you—"
"No," she interrupted, her voice firm. "Please. I need to be alone."
Jord hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. But don't be late."
"I won't."
Lenore dismounted the blurrg two miles out, approaching the rocky outcrop. Hidden between the boulders was the GAT-12j Skipray. A mix of guilt and resolve bubbling inside her.
She had bought it at an auction last harvest. She had half expected it was the same ship she had inherited from Kina Arde all those years ago and had miraculously made its way back to her. But once she had settled the note and had the pink slips transferred to her at the city registry she discovered it wasn't. It was actually the upgraded model GAT-12j that was being sold by a rebel veteran's son.
Lenore had not told anyone she had bought it and had founder herself adjusting the farm's books to show that the month's revenue was under what they had anticipated to hide the sale. She didn't plan on keeping it a secret for so long. But as things kept happening, there was no good time for her to tell Jord about the purchase. And as more time passed she feared that when she finally told him he would assume she was up to her old ways and planning to leave to travel across the galaxy again.
"Lenore?"
She spun around, startled to see Prisa emerge.
"What are you doing here?"
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," Prisa replied, crossing her arms. Her gaze shifted to the ship. "That's not the Spitfire, is it?"
"No," Lenore admitted. "But it's a dead ringer, no?."
"When did you get it?"
"Last harvest." She admitted.
"Does Jord know?" Prisa looked at the ship trying to find the differences from the old one.
Lenore hesitated, then shook her head.
Prisa frowned but nodded, understanding her aunt's reluctance. "Is Wyb going to be okay?"
"I don't know," Lenore whispered, her voice cracking. "But I can't just sit here and do nothing."
"I figured," Prisa said, stepping closer. "That's why I followed you."
"Prisa, you can't come with me. It's too dangerous."
"I know," Prisa smirked. "That's why I have a plan."
"A plan?"
Prisa motioned toward the rocks. A familiar armored figure stepped forward, his beskar glinting in the fading sunlight, Din Djarin.
"Din?" Lenore's eyes widened.
"I made a call," Prisa explained. "Mandalore answered."
"Prisa," Lenore began, her voice heavy with emotion, "that favor was for you."
"He's my family too," Prisa said sternly, "and so are you. I know I can't come. But Din can. And I know you two can find Wyb together."
Lenore swallowed hard, then turned to Din. "Thank you. I don't know what we're walking into, but—"
"We'll play it by ear," Din interrupted. His voice was calm, steady.
Prisa handed Lenore a bag of supplies. "Here. R3's with Wyb, so you might be able to trace his signal once you're close enough. I'll handle Jord. Just…come back."
Lenore pulled her niece into a tight hug. "So much like your father," she said softly.
Prisa stepped back, wiping her eyes. "Go. Before Jord gets suspicious."
Lenore turned to Din with a wry smile. "Ready, beskar head?"
Din patted Prisa's shoulder and boarded the ship. "Do you have to call me that?"
"What do you want me to call you?"
"What everyone else does."
"I don't use that kind of language."
Din shook his head as they bored the ship. Prisa stood until it lifted off, leaving her behind to hold down the farm.