Invasion of a fully inhabited planet was never a simple matter. The Sixth might have set some kind of speed record for breaking the air defenses, but seizing full control of a world one wasn’t willing to bomb into dust required landing troops. That was where city fighting came in, with its penetration of bunkers and fortresses and rooting out of hidden cells. Even with all hope of victory lost and orders to surrender, there were always pockets who refused to stop fighting, well past the point of reason. Large-scale war was never smooth or easy or simple, and noncombatants inevitably suffered for it.

Saketa’s group got small updates on it all, through clipped rumours and messages that flew through the ether, mostly from civilians. Ayna, true to her nature, had found them a good spot to ride it all out in: A large hollow on the plain east of Unnu. It was close to nothing anyone would target, and the banks could provide shelter from the sun for much of the day.

Being a good spot, it of course attracted other people. In time, almost three dozen civilians sheltered from the war in that hollow. And for all that conflict drew out the worst in human nature it sometimes showed the best as well. The people shared what food supplies they had, and after the first day someone on a sturdy bike went to fetch water. There was also a collective effort to keep the children distracted and entertained. Vanaka did her part by dancing for them.

Her own little group kept a bit of a distance. There was plenty of space to go around, and Fredrak was the only one who understood even the basics of the local language. Ayna made some attempts at socialising, but Saketa was content with peace and quiet for now.

She carefully turned over, switching from the left side to her right. It hurt, but of course everything did.

“Are you alright?” Vanaka asked yet again, and drifted over from where she’d been hovering.

“As alright as I can be,” Saketa told her. “There is no speeding this process up.”

She reached around to her back and gingerly touched the length of sealant. Fredrak and Losan had treated her injuries, but she would always have a numb spot where Avanon had cut her

Vanaka touched the spot of sealant on her own head. She continually seemed a bit annoyed with it, which presumably wasn’t helped by the fact that her cut was actually fully healed, without so much as a mark. But this was the Vylak life: Concealment.

“I just... “

She double-checked that the only one within range was Losan.

“Lasting pain is never an issue for me, so I always feel a little protective when someone else is hurt.”

“That is to your credit,” Saketa said. “But my biggest problem is simple exhaustion. Of muscle and sinew. The cure for that is time.”

She thought back through the days, and wondered if she’d ever been pushed harder.

“That fight took everything I had,” she admitted. “Everything.”

“I guess it’s good you didn’t waste your strength before, then,” Vanaka said.

Then she looked off, seeming unsure and worried.

“But… what about Kio, Saketa?”

“He has an entire planet to hide out on,” Saketa told her. “And billions to blend in with. As long as he doesn’t make gross use of power there is no point in trying to search for him. He might simply stay here, but once spacetravel starts up again he shouldn’t have any trouble hitting the lanes.”

Saketa was silent for a few seconds.

“After that… he has a chance, if he is willing to take it. He has the means to find his mother, as well as a man who can help him heal his own spirit. If he is willing to be healed.”

“What about justice? That slaughter in the Tanga? Chull and the others?”

“A Warden is about defence, not punishment,” Saketa said. “We kill to prevent future harm. Not for any other reason. And the law cannot hold him. Not with the powers his mentor taught him.”

She looked forward, to a potential future encounter, and felt her brows sink downwards.

“If I ever see him again, and he still follows Avanon’s example, then I will strike him dead. It is up to him.”

“Stop being so perfect,” Vanaka said with a sigh. “It makes the rest of us look bad.”

Ayna came strolling over, deliberately making noise as she sashayed merrily.

“Some updates, ladies and gentleman,” the Dwyyk said. “Our neighbours here have been in contact with friends and relatives and whatnot. It looks like things really are over. At least in this state, or whatever they call it. There are apparently drones… or ships, there is a bit of a language barrier… floating around, broadcasting for civilians to return to their homes and workplaces.”

Fredrak came from the same direction, moving at a more sedate pace.

“So, looks like we can find somewhere more comfortable to stay!” Ayna continued. “And something better to eat than those damn rations. I’m really hungry for something warm and fresh.”

“Does anyone have any idea when we’ll be able to safely fly offworld again?” Vanaka asked.

“Full freedom will take a few more days at the very least,” Fredrak said. “I’m sure there are Authority officers and agents being hunted for interrogation and trial. But there will be ports in fully Alliance-controlled areas that we can use. Especially with me doing the talking.”

“Does anyone suppose that smuggler is where we left her?” Losan asked.

“Losan and I do need to get back to Yvenna,” Vanaka said. “We left Erine there. And I have an engagement.”

“You need to get back to your lives, basically,” Ayna said.

“We do.”

“We all do,” Fredrak said. “And you two are probably best off going with us to the nearest Alliance port. There we can find out about safe ports. And we can probably arrange to at least get you some place from where you can fly commercial to Yvenna.”

“And you?” Vanaka asked. “What about you?”

“I have some reports to make,” the agent replied. “My goal is completed, but the war isn’t over yet.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He showed one of his controlled smiles.

“The work never ends.”

“I think… that mine has,” Ayna said. “It’s been… uh… fun isn’t the right word… interesting. But I warned you that I’m flighty. I think I’ll hit the lanes for a while and, I don’t know, get up to something with fewer explosions and massacres. Maybe I’ll see about finding the Addax. After my final payment, of course.”

“Of course,” Fredrak said, and seemed neither surprised nor disappointed. “Perhaps I will call on you again, someday. You’ve proven reliable, and I’ve proven that I pay up.”

“What about you, Saketa?” Vanaka asked. “As he said, the war isn’t over. Will you go see it through?”

“No.”

Saketa shifted her position again, hoping against hope that she’d find a previously undiscovered pain-free spot to rest her weight on.

“No. It is time I went home. I still need healing. And my suit.”

She looked down at Nara’s sword.

“And a new blade. Then, when I am at full strength, will I return to the path of a Warden.”

“So, back to the planet that creates you people?” Ayna said. “I have to admit, I’m tempted to ask if I can come along. But guys: I think that man with the flute was going to start playing again, to perk people up before the trip back to town. I think I’m going to go for a listen.”

“I think I might too,” Losan said.

“And me,” Vanaka added.

“Before you do…”

Saketa pressed the sheathed blade against the ground like a cane and used it as an aide in getting up. Vanaka took a step towards her, with an air of offering aid, but stopped as Saketa managed.

She looked over them: The light-hearted Dwyyk driven by wanderlust and curiosity. The canny secret agent and true believer in the Federation that welcomed all peoples. The sweet girl who defied her people’s isolationism to do some good in the galaxy. And the true warrior, bound to her for life and at ease with it.

“We will be parting soon. So I simply wished to express my appreciation. Each of you followed me into this fight for different reasons, ranging from duty to friendship. But each of you did your part. I would not have been able to slay Avanon without your aid, and the Nearer Fringe would be looking upon a different reality today. Wherever our lives go from here, we can always look back on what we did during this crisis. We can all carry that to our dying days.”

They looked happy. Vanaka seemed a little misty-eyed. Ayna grinned widely and seemed to be trying to think of something to say. Fredrak’s smile looked entirely sincere and unrestrained, for once. And Losan proved he had it in him to drop the stoic warrior front, at least for a few seconds.

“Alright, that’s it,” Ayna said after a few seconds. “We need to take a group picture, so we can look at it when we’re old and fat and grumbling about the kids these days, and remember how awesome we used to be.”

“I like that idea,” Losan admitted.

From out of sight came the sound of flute playing.

“Later!” Ayna chirped. “We have time. I want to catch a front row seat.”

Fredrak walked after her, and so did Losan. Saketa sat down with about as much pain as she’d stood up. Vanaka lingered behind the others and looked at her.

“I can carry you again, if you like,” the Vylak said, and pointed towards the makeshift concert.

“No, no. I am content to sit here. You go ahead and enjoy the get-together.”

Vanaka nodded and took a step towards the music, then stopped.

“Saketa… before we part… I would like to share some locations with you. I don’t travel according to a strict schedule, but I do work within a certain network of dance halls. We might be more likely to bump into one another again if we’re actively trying to.”

“Mm. Are you hunting me, Vanaka?” Saketa asked without accusation.

“Oh… I want to,” the girl admitted. “If you understand my people at all you will understand why. We get so attached. Once a person has become dear enough to us we just want to embrace them and never let go.”

Vanaka turned back towards the music with a loving look on her face. Losan was presumably the target of it. Then she focused back on Saketa and knelt down beside her.

“I do want you in my life, with your strength, your wisdom, your drive to do what’s right…”

She touched Saketa’s hand and looked like she was happily imagining the scenario.

“But the galaxy in general needs you more than I do, doesn’t it? Ahh.”

She shook her head.

“Maturity is the worst, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Saketa said, and smiled a little.

“So, no, I’m not hunting you as a lifelong partner. Just as a friend. Although… I think I can convince you to let me bite you again, when next we meet.”

That rarely-seen naughty side to Vanaka manifested as a gleam in her eyes.

“Perhaps,” Saketa told her, and felt a little bit naughty herself. “We shall see.”

She put her other hand on top of Vanaka’s and became serious again.

“But what you certainly did get out of all of this is the knowledge that you are the sort to follow a friend into the fires of war. That is the kind of person you are.”

Vanaka just made a noise and looked away. Now she was definitely misty-eyed. The girl gave her an appreciative smile, then walked away, dabbing at her eyes.

The playing continued, and someone started banging on something. It was all a simple sound of human companionships, creativity, and a testament to people’s ability to endure through terrible times. Saketa was happy to just sit where she was and listen to it, and take in all that the simple music signified.

She indulged in it for a little while, then took a deep breath before getting up with the aid of the sword. She took off Pietr’s pivasi and wrapped it up neatly. She had timed it all quite well, and it was only seconds later that Pietr and Nara Shifted in.

It was shockingly good to see them again.

“Saketa,” Pietr said warmly, and Nara’s normally set face softened at the sight of her.

Battered as she was, she allowed the two of them to handle closing the distance. Pietr reached her first. Noting the state of her, he simply walked carefully into her open arms and touched her back.

Saketa put her other arm around Nara, and the woman touched her shoulder.

“A Warden and her blade are not easily separated,” Saketa said as the two let go.

She handed the two loaned items over, and Nara reclaimed her sword with a hunger that Saketa well understood.

“No, indeed,” Nara said, and gazed lovingly at the weapon. “I was surprised to sense it here, but perhaps I shouldn’t have been.”

“Thank you both. I would never have survived without those.”

“It is embarrassing to find we were fighting the wrong fight,” Pietr said as he put his half-cloak back on.

“We were fighting the right fight, it seems,” Nara said. “Since it worked out for the greater good. From what I can tell, this is the only possible course of events where this invasion turned out well.”

“We might have stayed on Yvenna, and helped with that hunt. A single Exile would have stood no chance.”

“And the fleet-to-fleet fighting might have gone very differently. But we will never know for sure.”

Nara finally looked away from the sword and put it back on her hip where it belonged. Pietr put his hand on Saketa’s arm.

“Oh, Sister. Why did you walk this dark path alone? I understand we were on Uktena Station at the same time, and you outright dodged me.”

“Because…”

Saketa half-wanted to look away, but these two faces were far too welcome for that.

“Because I was lost to myself,” she admitted. “It is as simple as that. I lost sight of my shadow, and so it could overwhelm me. It took aid, for me to make my way back. It took people. Friends.”

Nara took her hand. The woman’s sensitivity worked best through touch.

“You are not fully healed, though,” she pointed out.

“No.”

Saketa smiled.

Her long hunt was over. There would be other battles in her life, and they would continue until either they claimed her or she settled down on Kalero as a teacher. But the hunt that had consumed her tormented spirit was over, and now she finally knew what lay beyond it.

“I am going home.”