The last thing Cobb Vanth had seen before he went down was your face. He had focused on that, kept it with him as he struggled to cling to life. The light was shining on you, making you glow like an angel from the moons of Iego.

And when he was floating in the Bacta tank, all those long days, Cobb was conscious. People didn't talk about that part. The entire time you were floating between life and death, the bacta working to fix you, you were awake. Thinking. Going over memories.

Cobb thought of you. The first time he met you, both of you still enslaved. How hard you had fought to be free. How the first time you smiled, actually smiled, was a year after Mos Pelgo had been liberated, and the town had been renamed, and you finally let yourself feel safe.

Huh. Cobb figured he must've been in love with you for a while, if he was thinking this much about you when he was struggling to stay alive.

Eventually he got back to the town, tentatively returning to light duties as he got used to the new prosthesis Boba Fett fixed him up with. Sure, it looked like Cobb's skin, but he had broken about a dozen glasses already by holding them too hard. He couldn't complain, not when he was at least alive.

Trouble was, you were avoiding him like the plague. You would come in to the office for a few moments in the morning, leaving before he could even get a few words out. Patrolling, you said. As if a town with less than a thousand residents needed that level of monitoring.

No, Cobb knew where you really were. When you got into these moods, you would wander the desert on a speeder, thinking and brooding. It was hard to pull you out of your mind when you were like this, but through sheer stubbornness, Cobb usually managed to. So, even though it hurt like hell, Cobb got on a speeder, and headed for the cliffs that you usually went to.