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It was the frenzy of a successful hunt, Sivrak knew, even as he understood that no power in the universe could stay the streaking course of his fighter, because it had already been set by the strongest power.

The flaming ruins of the Imperial base came at him with the speed of destiny. Calmly, Sivrak took his claws from the controls—

—and walked the forest of Endor’s moon.

It was night. The breeze was cool. His nostrils were aflame with the scents of a multitude of prey and smoky woodfires. The fires’ distant crackling was punctuated by rhythmic drumbeats and excited voices lifted in triumphant song.

Sivrak drew in the clean air, flushing the last stale traces of recycled fighter oxygen from his lungs. This time, he did not try to remember what had happened. He knew, in time, all answers would come.

“Those are the Ewoks singing,” Dice said behind him, as he knew she must.

He turned to face her, gasping at the ethereal wonder of her lamproid form as she glowed with the inner light she had always carried. The dark trees of the forest basked in her radiance.

“They celebrate the death of the Emperor,” she said.

“Then the battle of Endor’s moon …?” Sivrak began.

“Has been won. Our fight is at its end.”

Sivrak lifted his paw to touch her, and was not surprised when he saw that his own arm shone as did Dice’s body.

She wound her tail tip around his paw. “We are luminous beings,” she said, “and always have been. True love can never be denied.”

For long moments, Sivrak stood silent in that forest, united at last in such a way that he knew he would never be alone again—a balance even simpler than that between predator and prey, the joining of all things in the Force. But blended in the Ewoks’ chorus, he heard the strains of a different music, from a different time.

“The cantina,” Dice explained without him having to ask.

“I know,” Sivrak said. “But there is no need to return there.”

“There never was,” she said.

And then, tail in paw, their hearts and souls entwined forever, Dice led Sivrak through the forest of Endor’s moon, to a special place near an Ewok village where three friends waited, as they had always waited, as they always would wait, for all who would join them, bound by the Force.

And behind them in the forest, the music from the cantina softly faded, and was never heard again.

Contributor Biographies

KEVIN J. ANDERSON has spent a lot of time in a galaxy far, far away. He is the author of the STAR WARS: The Jedi Academy trilogy and the STAR WARS novel, Darksaber, as well as the science fiction novels Climbing Olympus, Resurrection, Inc., and several others with Doug Beason. He has edited two other STAR WARS anthologies, Tales from Jabba’s Palace and Tales of the Bounty Hunters. He has worked for ten years as a technical writer at the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. He is married to writer Rebecca Moesta.

Author of twelve books—eight with Cantina editor Kevin J. Anderson and four on his own—DOUG BEASON is an accomplished short-story writer, appearing in such publications as Analog, Amazing, Full Spectrum, SF Age, and others. A Ph.D. physicist, Doug has served on a presidential commission with astronaut Tom Stafford to develop plans for the United States to return to the Moon and go on to Mars. He worked at the White House for the President’s Science Advisor under both the Bush and Clinton administrations. As a lieutenant colonel in the USAF, he is currently an associate professor and director of research at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

M. SHAYNE BELL grew up on a ranch in Idaho. His first novel, Nicoji, was released in 1991 by Baen Books. His short fiction has appeared in Asimov’s Science Fiction, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Amazing Stories, and anthologies including Simulations: Fifteen Tales of Virtual Reality, Hotel Andromeda, and Under African Skies. He also edited an anthology of stories set in Utah by all the SF writers from or living in Utah, Washed by a Wave of Wind. His