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by ChristopherArmston8

"Relax Korto, a Jedi does feel stress."

The young Korto Voss huffed at his father's words. Some Jedi wisdom. He knew his father meant well, but using quotes from a religion that had died out fifteen years ago was annoying. Not to mention that it did nothing go help the fact that he and his father were stuck in a prison awaiting transport to Nal Hutta.

Nal Hutta, the Hutt controlled solar system. Full of crime and lowlifes and a place where his father and mother had spied together for the Republic. It was a place he had been to on a handful of times and each encounter had left him wishing for the mystical forests of Kashyyyk.

Kashyyyk was his home world. He had been born among the Wookiee clan of Palsaang. His closest friend was the Wookiee Chak. Chak had taught him the Wookiee way of life and the dangers that lurked in the depths of the forests of Kashyyyk. They had mad adventures in the depths of the forest, and hopefully would again, once he was free.

Korto wondered where Chak and his adopted uncle Villie were, along with Korto's mother Khaleen. The five of them had been on a supply run for the clan when Korto and his father had gotten into trouble on the space station they had docked at. Of course it had to be him and his father, not Villie who had been arrested. Villie was the criminal of the group, though technically his father has a warrant for his arrest due to him being a former Jedi knight. Lucky for them they had been caught by local authorities that had been paid off to bring Quinaln Vos back to Nal Hutta,

So here he and his father sat in this small dirty cell waiting for their transport to Nal Hutta. It smelled worse than things that had been dead for weeks, or even some of the plants and creatures that lurked in the depths of Kashsyyk. But then again, the whole city stank, he missed the smells of the forest.

Neither of them knew who wanted them, though Korto knew his father had more than a few enemies including the Hutts who would pay whatever was asked to get their hands on Quinlan Vos. Those that had done so in the past had learned from their mistakes but there was always someone ready and willing to capture Quinlan Vos. His father had spent too long in the underworld making enemies when he had been a jedi.


Sirens began whining as the acrid smell of smoke filled air, following the loud explosion. That could only mean one thing, Khaleen was here to rescue her husband and son. Korto had never in his life doubted his mother, though with age he had realized how much of a troublemaker she must have been when she was young. Now she seemed just as rational as his father, though her choice of clothing and her choice of words showed hints at her former life before Korto. His mother was the perfect match for his father, and Korto knew they had been on many adventures together.

Aaagh! Pew pew!

"Get that stinking..." a mercenary cried before gurgling as a leather clad foot came out of nowhere and collapsed his throat. Gurgling no more he fell to the floor, his massive axe clattering to the ground and banging on the metal floor.

A figure appeared through the doorway, stepping over the silent mercenary. Smirking as she twirled her purplish-auburn hair, she asked to nobody in particular, "Stinking what?"

Behind Korto his father sighed, "You knew what he was going to say Khaleen. Now would you please get us out. More will be on the way, and I really do not want to fight a group of mercenaries right now."

Casting a knowing smile their direction Khaleen ordered, "Stand back." From behind her a hulking figure rushed past her and grabbed the cell door.

Crying out like only a Wookiee could the figure ripped the door off the cell and dropped it on the floor. Recognizing his friend Chak, Korto smiled as he and his father exited the cell. Chak enveloped him in a hug and asked him if he was alright. Before he could answer he heard his father whisper, "I knew you would come for us."

Wet noises followed by sharp breathing was all Korto needed to know that his father and mother were kissing, passionately. Some things never changed, he supposed. Time would never be able to break the love his parents had for each other, or for him. 

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