The question had barely finished leaving the officiant’s mouth.
“If there is anyone present who knows of any reason these two should not be joined…”
Every member of Omega Squad turned. Not subtly. Not politely. Not in the traditional, ceremonial way one might glance over a shoulder to acknowledge the formality of the moment.
They turned like a fireteam hearing movement in the treeline.
Connel turned with them. A half-second later, every one of them reached for weapons that were not there. No sidearms. No knives. No detonators. No rifles. No lightsabers.
Nothing.
Just empty hands moving on instinct, stopping halfway, and then remaining there in a tableau of absurdly serious men in formal attire realizing they had been disarmed by wedding protocol. Many of the guests froze.
Then someone coughed.
Someone else tried very hard not to laugh. Connel’s eyes narrowed faintly at the crowd, his expression carved from stone and old battlefield habits, though there was the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth. That was key to the message, and the message was clear.
This is your chance. Choose wisely.
Lira, standing across from him, did not even try to hide her smile. The officiant looked from Connel, to Omega Squad, to the crowd, then back to Connel.
“…I will take that as no objections.” Which of course brought many in the crowd to the laughter to which they were expected.
Omega Squad turned back around in perfect unison.
Connel cleared his throat and faced Lira again, suddenly looking far less like a terrifying Jedi Shadow and far more like a man who had just remembered that he was standing in front of the woman he loved, surrounded by people who had somehow survived knowing him.
Lira arched an eyebrow at him.
“Really?”
Connel leaned slightly closer, voice low.
“Preventative diplomacy.”
“You reached for a weapon.”
Connel smirked.
“Symbolic diplomacy.”
“You do know no one was going to object, right?”
He glanced briefly toward the crowd again.
Now they definitely won’t.
That broke the tension again.
A warm ripple of laughter moved through the small gathering, soft at first, then fuller. It rose among friends, family, and the few who truly understood why this ceremony was not meant for an audience, but for witnesses. For people who knew what it meant for Connel Vanagor to stand here without armor. Without weapons. Without a mask.
Just him. Just Lira.
Just the life they were choosing. The officiant allowed the laughter to settle before continuing, voice gentler now. “Connel. Lira. You have chosen to speak your vows.”
Connel inhaled. That was the first warning sign. The second was that he looked down. Not away. Not exactly. But down at their joined hands, as if the entire galaxy had suddenly narrowed to that one impossible point of contact. Lira’s fingers tightened around his.
He looked back up. Whatever joke had been hiding behind his eyes was gone now.
I, uh… He stopped. A few people smiled, but no one laughed this time. Connel Vanagor, who had walked into warzones, hunted monsters in the dark, and stared down things most beings only survived by never meeting, suddenly looked like this was the hardest thing he had ever done.
I had something written.
Lira’s smile softened.
It was better than this is going to be. That earned a small, affectionate laugh from her.
I wrote it because I thought… if I had the words ahead of time, then I wouldn’t mess it up.
He swallowed.
But that’s not really us, is it?
Lira did not answer. She did not need to. Connel’s thumb moved slowly across her knuckles.
I have spent a lot of my life trying to be ready for the worst thing that could happen. Trying to see the hit before it came. Trying to make sure I could take it, so someone else didn’t have to. His voice held steady, but barely.
I got good at that.
He let the words hang for a moment.
Too good.
The wind moved softly through Heavenheim, carrying the cold clean scent of snow and pine and distant hearthfires. The world seemed to hush for him.
Then you came along.
His eyes stayed on hers.
...And you didn’t ask me to stop being who I was. You didn’t look at the damaged parts and pretend they weren’t there. You didn’t try to fix me like I was a broken machine.” His mouth twitched faintly.
Which is good, because I’m pretty sure I voided the warranty a long time ago.
Lira let out a quiet laugh through the emotion gathering in her face, many in the crowd did as well. Connel breathed a little easier.
You just… saw me.
The words came slower now. Rougher. More honest because of it.
Not the name. Not the armor. Not my father’s shadow. Not the mask. Not the things I’ve done because someone had to do them.
He shook his head faintly.
Me. His grip tightened around her hands.
I wish I was better at this.
There it was. The little fracture. The thing beneath the armor.
I wish I was better with words. Better with peace. Better with… letting good things happen without waiting for the other boot to drop through the roof.
A few of Omega glanced down. They knew that look. They knew that life.
But that’s you. He looked at her like she was sunrise over a battlefield he had not expected to survive.
You make me want to be better.
His voice quieted.
Not because I think I have to earn you. Not because you make me feel small. You don’t. You never have.
He drew a breath.
You make me remember there is more to me than surviving.
Lira’s eyes glistened.
So I promise you this. He straightened, just a little. Not like a soldier. Like a man making a vow he intended to keep.
I will stand with you. Not in front of you because I think you’re weak. Not behind you because I’m afraid to be seen. With you.
He gently paused.
I will build a home with you. I will protect our peace without turning it into another war. I will learn how to rest, even if I am terrible at it.
Lira gave him a look. He nodded once.
I will be terrible at it. That got another soft laugh.
But I will try.
His voice lowered again.
Every day, I will try. For you. For us. For whatever future we are stubborn enough to carve out of this galaxy.
He looked down at her hand, then back to her face.
Lira Voss… The name left him like something sacred.
I love you. And I am done pretending I don’t know what I want.
He smiled then. Small. Real. Entirely hers.
It’s you.
No one moved. For a heartbeat, even the wind seemed unwilling to interrupt. Then Lira squeezed his hands.
“That was you messing it up?”
Connel blinked.
Technically, yes.
“Force help us if you ever get good at it.”
The guests laughed again, but many of them were wiping at their eyes now.
Lira took her turn. She did not look nervous. Not because she felt nothing, but because Lira had always possessed that rare kind of strength that did not need to announce itself. She stood before him with warmth in her eyes and steel in her spine, the same woman who could love him, challenge him, tease him, and refuse to let him vanish into himself.
“Connel…” She smiled.
“You are impossible.”
A few members of Omega nodded before they could stop themselves. Connel glanced sideways. Omega suddenly became very interested in the architecture.
“You are stubborn. Overprotective. Dramatic in ways you refuse to admit are dramatic.”
I object to—
“You had your chance.” He closed his mouth. Lira’s smile deepened.
You carry too much. You always have. Some of it was given to you. Some of it you picked up because no one else would. Some of it you keep carrying because you don’t know who you are without the weight. Her voice softened.
“But I know who you are.”
Connel went still.
“You are not just the man who fights. You are the man who comes back. You are the man who kneels down to speak gently to someone who is afraid. You are the man who thinks love is something he has to deserve, and yet gives it so fiercely that the rest of us are left trying to catch up.” Her hands tightened around his.
“You make me laugh when you are not trying to. Sometimes especially then.” A small grin tugged at her mouth.
“You make me feel safe, even when I know perfectly well I can handle myself.”
You can.
“I know.”
Just confirming.
“Noted.”
Another warm laugh moved through the gathering.
Then Lira’s expression became tender again.
“But more than that, you make me feel chosen.” Connel’s face changed at that. Just a flicker, but she saw it.
“Not as a mission. Not as something to guard. Not as some fragile thing you are afraid the galaxy will take from you.”
She stepped closer.
“As a partner. As a future. As home.”
The word struck him harder than any blow could have.
Home.
“So here is my promise.” Her voice was clear.
“I will not ask you to become someone else. I will not ask you to forget what shaped you. I will not ask you to lay down every sharp edge just because the world thinks love should make people soft.” Her eyes shone.
“But I will remind you that you are allowed to be happy.”
Connel swallowed.
“I will remind you that peace is not something you steal in small moments between disasters. It is something we can build. Together.” She smiled through the tears now.
“I will walk with you. I will argue with you when you need arguing with.”
That seems likely.
“It is certain.” A few guests laughed again.
“I will love you when you are brave, and when you are afraid. When you know what to do, and when you are standing in the kitchen pretending you know how domestic life works.”
I can cook.
“You can heat things.”
That is a form of cooking.
“We will revisit this later.”
The laughter was easier now. Brighter. But Lira did not let go of the heart of it.
“Connel Vanagor… I love you. Not because you are perfect. Not because you are fearless. Not because you always know how to say what you mean.”
She smiled.
“Clearly.”
He gave her a wounded look.
“I love you because you keep trying. Because when you fall, you get back up. Because when the galaxy gives you every reason to close your heart, you still choose to care.”
Her thumb brushed over his hand.
“And because underneath all that armor, all that discipline, all that deeply unnecessary glaring…” Omega Squad looked very carefully at anything except Connel.
“…you are the man I want beside me for the rest of my life.”
Her voice became barely more than a whisper, but everyone heard it.
“You are my home too.”
Connel looked like he had forgotten how to breathe. The officiant gave them a moment. No one objected to that either. Finally, the rings were brought forward.
There was no grand flourish. No spectacle. Just two simple symbols passed between hands that had known war, work, healing, and hope.
Connel took Lira’s ring first. For a man who could field-strip weapons blindfolded, bypass security systems under fire, and wield a lightsaber with terrifying precision, his fingers were suddenly not cooperating.
The ring slipped once. He caught it.
Barely.
Lira bit her lip, fighting a smile.
I’m fine.
“I didn’t say anything.”
Your face did.
“My face is very honest.”
He slid the ring onto her finger at last. His thumb rested there for a second longer than necessary.
With this ring… He looked at her.
…I give you what I have. Not just the parts that are easy. Not just the parts that look good standing in front of people.
His voice softened.
All of me. The past. The scars. The stubbornness. Lira’s eyebrow lifted.
A manageable amount of stubbornness.
“No lies in the vows.”
…the stubbornness.
A small laugh passed through the crowd.
And the future. Whatever it is. Wherever it takes us. I choose you.
Then it was Lira’s turn.
She took his ring and slid it onto his finger with considerably less trouble, which she was kind enough not to mention. Mostly.
“With this ring, I choose you. Not the legend. Not the name. Not the version of you everyone else thinks they understand.”
Her eyes locked on his.
“You.” She smiled.
“The man who tries. The man who loves deeply. The man who still has to learn that being loved is not a trap.”
Connel’s expression softened into something almost unbearably open.
“I choose the life we build. The quiet mornings. The hard days. The laughter. The family. The arguments over whether heating food counts as cooking.”
Still does.
“Still does not.” She pressed the ring fully into place.
“I choose all of it. I choose you.”
The officiant smiled.
The formal words came next, but they felt almost secondary now. The old language. The tradition. The binding phrases carried across generations and worlds. Midvinter had seen kings crowned, warriors mourned, families joined, and vows spoken beneath winter skies older than any starship line.
Now it witnessed this.
A Jedi who had spent too long preparing for endings.
A woman who had become his beginning.
“By the vows you have spoken, the rings you have exchanged, and the love witnessed here by those you call family…” The officiant paused, allowing the words to settle. “…it is my honor to pronounce you husband and wife.”
Connel’s eyes flicked briefly to Lira’s. For once, he looked completely unguarded.
The officiant smiled wider. “Connel…” The smallest hint of mischief entered the officiant’s voice. “You may kiss your bride.”
Connel did not hesitate.
Not this time.
He stepped in, one hand lifting gently to Lira’s face, the other settling at her waist as he kissed her. It was not theatrical. It was not polished. It was not for the guests. It was the kind of kiss that said every word he had stumbled over. Every promise he had meant but could barely speak. Every impossible hope he had finally allowed himself to hold. For one perfect moment, there was no war. No mask. No shadow.
Just Connel. Just Lira. Husband and wife.
Then came the sound.
A huff. A bark. A thunder of paws.
Connel broke the kiss just enough to turn his head.
No.
Too late.
From the side of the gathering came Buster.
The Gallinorese Mountain Aak-Dog came bounding through the ceremony space with the magnificent confidence of someone who knew, beyond all doubt, that this entire event had been arranged for him.
His fur bounced. His ears flopped. His tail swept behind him like a victory banner. Someone gasped. Someone laughed.
Someone in Omega muttered, “Incoming.”
Buster charged straight for the newly married couple.
Connel instinctively shifted, one arm still around Lira, his body turning as if he could somehow intercept an avalanche wearing a happy face.
“Connel…” Lira warned, already laughing.
I can stop him.
“You absolutely cannot.”
He absolutely could not.
Buster hit him first. Not hard enough to hurt him, but with enough enthusiasm to make the point very clear. Connel staggered back half a step, dignity taking a fatal wound. Buster immediately planted himself between them, front paws dancing, tail wagging with enough force to alter local weather patterns. He looked from Connel to Lira, then back again, panting happily as though conducting a final inspection.
Connel stared down at him.
Really?
Buster barked once.
Firmly.
Lira bent down, laughing as she wrapped her arms around the enormous dog’s neck.
“I think he approves.”
He interrupted the kiss. Buster barked again.
Yes, I know you were invited. Another bark.
No, you were not the officiant.
Buster leaned his full weight against Connel’s legs. Lira looked up at her husband, glowing with laughter and tears and happiness all at once.
“You know he thinks this makes it official.”
Connel looked from Lira, to Buster, to the guests, all of whom were now fully laughing. Omega Squad, traitors to a man, looked deeply entertained.
Connel sighed.
Then, slowly, he crouched beside Buster. The great dog immediately shoved his head under Connel’s chin. Connel closed his eyes for half a second, accepting defeat with what little grace remained.
Fine. He happily scratched behind Buster’s ears.
NOW it’s official.
Buster gave a pleased rumble and turned, pressing himself against both Connel and Lira at once, as if physically binding the new family together through sheer fluffy authority.
The guests applauded.
Not politely this time. They cheered. Lira leaned into Connel’s side, one hand still buried in Buster’s fur. Connel looked down at the two of them.
His wife.
His dog.
His family.
For once, he did not look like a man waiting for the next disaster. He looked like a man who had finally reached the place he had been fighting toward all along.
Then Buster sneezed directly onto his formal boots.
Connel looked down. Lira covered her mouth. Omega Squad lost all discipline. Connel stared at the dog.
That better not be in the holos.
From somewhere in the crowd, someone said:
“It absolutely is.”
Connel slowly looked up. Lira kissed his cheek.
“Welcome to married life.”
Buster barked again.
And this time, Connel laughed.
Thurion Heavenshield
,
Nida Heavenshield
. Aris Noble and the like. Anyone that knows Connel is more than welcome to show up, but there will be another on Naboo so don't feel required. 
