Forbidden

Commander Wolffe of the 104th, leader of the Wolfpack, had no idea that his one-night stand from a week ago was a Jedi General. How could he have known? When they had met, it was at a dimly lit, bustling cantina on Coruscant, a brief respite from the ceaseless grind of the war. She had been wearing civilian clothes-a simple, elegant tunic and trousers-and hadn't acted like a Jedi. There were no grand pronouncements, no displays of the Force, just an easy laugh and a captivating presence that had drawn him in. She had left the next morning in a hurry, a quiet departure before the sun had fully risen, and he hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her much sober, the memory of their shared night a warm, hazy glow in his mind. He'd simply assumed she was another civilian caught in the eddies of wartime travel, a fleeting connection.
The truth hit him like a blaster bolt to the chest when he saw her walk aboard their ship, the Triumphant, a few days later. She wasn't alone; Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his familiar beard and calm demeanour, was by her side. Wolffe stood at attention with his men, part of the welcoming party on the hangar deck, his gaze sweeping over the arriving dignitaries. Then his eyes landed on her.