Note: I wrote this small chapter a long while ago because I wanted to clear the air on certain things regarding Bardan's life choices. Since I stumbled upon the file again I figured it was good enough to be shown here... Let's hope you enjoy it and that it makes sense to you. When I was writing this piece it was meant to be a chapter into the CFM series, so not a lot may be explicit about the context.
All Star Wars places, character and story references are only borrowed and I'm not claiming to have invented any of it. I've only done this for entertainment.
Tatooine, Mos Espa
It was the end of the day and the market was soon closing, as announced by an old lady that sold dried fruit. Bardan had barely walked out of the spaceport's conditioned air that his suit's own cooling system kicked in. The heat came through his helmet filters with smells of sand and exhaust gas. Hopefully he could stay indoors for this search, and only remain under the twin suns for as little time as possible.
He walked down the main street in the small town, reminded vaguely of Enceri, on Mandalore. They were both the second largest populated spots and the houses didn't follow any strict road pattern. Pulling out the holo map of the planet in his overview Bardan found the best place to hear local gossip. The cantina.
Anyone escaping the Empire and looking for minimal comfort would visit this place. He didn't know who he was supposed to find yet but, according to an opportunistic loudmouth, a Jedi was hiding in that very location. Quickly scanning the establishment Bardan didn't see any one that stood out, didn't sense anything out of the ordinary besides curious minds looking in his direction. The bartender looked up from a glass he was wiping with a dirty cloth. Bardan proceeded inside, sat at the bar showing the intention to order a drink. The glares turned away and a low chatter rose up.
"What will it be?" asked the bartender.
Bardan let out a short sigh. "Any fresh ales?"
He was served a medium-sized beverage that looked a little too clear but it was cool. Taking off his helmet he attracted more attention to him.
"You're not from around here. Looking for someone?"
He looked back at the man behind the counter, measuring the dread and irritation on his face, staring at him long enough so that he'd drop the conversation.
"Is there anyone to look for?"
The man turned away to look at the holo screen on the other side of the room. The people on Tatooine were mostly farmers, cattle herders and not much else. The rest were all loosely tied to crime gangs from gaming and smuggling. And there were the Hutts. The patrons probably suspected him to be one of their collectors. It had been a while since he'd had a simple, aimless conversation with anyone. He'd told himself this was the last one. The last time he had to be away from his family.
He sank the almost tasteless ale down before all the condensation went away, ran a gloved hand through his hair and looked at the holo-screen. It was some racing sport news. He remembered piloting his speederbike with Ordo, in the vertical mazes of Coruscant, with his eyes closed. In another life he could have been a racer and lived a normal, simple existence. He brought up his messenger into his wrist datapad, idly scrolling back the history remembering that he needed to be home for Aresu. She was soon going to need her own set of armor. It had been three years since she had come into his life, with Runa. His wife had taken a risk by sending this one message, two weeks ago, with a picture attached. He looked at it for a minute, lost in his memory, trying to remember who had taken it. It showed Aresu holding a baby Bordok when they were visiting a small moon in the Endor system. Their only trip as a family. She looked so happy on the picture, it raised a smile on his own face.
"Sweet looking child."
Bardan startled, having not expected someone to sneak around him and sit right at his side, peering in on his business. It was a middle aged man, sandy blond hair, unkempt beard and blue eyes. He recognized him, and surely as he knew the man, Bardan was certain it was a mutual feeling. As one of the Jedi Masters on the Council he was able to hide his Force imprint as well, but the brown cloak and tan clothes just gave him dead away. That was how he got tipped off.
Switching his gauntlet datapad off Bardan gathered his thoughts back to the here-and-now.
"You're not very discrete." He then hesitated whether or not to address him by his name, or even his title of Master.
"I could say the same for you," Kenobi replied with his trademark Coruscanti accent. "Your entrance stirred quite the chatter."
Looking ahead to watch for sudden moves Bardan started to get uneasy. "Why come to me then? You could just stay hidden and wait for the heat to do the work."
"But then I'd miss this unique opportunity." The former Jedi Master sipped an alcoholic mix while Bardan waited. "I don't think you want to be anywhere else. So why don't we get comfortable."
"I do want to be somewhere else. And I'm not interested in what you have to say to me..."
The Jedi were always curious about his sudden turn to the Mandalorians, even more so than his reasons for hunting them.
"Perhaps then you should tell me why you persist on helping your employer with what he's doing to the galaxy."
"Would you try to stop me if I did?"
Kenobi took a philosophical moment to think, looking far across the room.
"I would help you end your torment but, not today. Something tells me that you're playing a part in the big scheme of things."
Bardan sighed and, while the bartender was facing him, gestured for a second drink. "Look, I've done my share of introversion over the past five years so if there was a big plan for me in this galaxy, I would have known by now."
"So a change of clothes, a turn to the enemy and suddenly life means nothing more to you?"
"I know you're going somewhere with this. It amuses you."
"Well, it's a barren world. What could an old man like me do besides chatting with a fellow veteran."
Looking down into his new ale Bardan collected his thoughts about the risks of mentioning sensitive information with that man. That... Jedi Master. He didn't feel threatened by him. Hadn't he taken on the pragmatic what-you-see-is-what-you-get attitude from Mandalorians he would have acted defensively, a sign of weakness that Jedi were expert at detecting.
"I value my life," Bardan told him, "and I do what I do so that the people who care for me can remain safe."
"These people... did they ask you to kill others?"
"We make our own decisions. I made mine while you were still battling against a ghost enemy, spreading death because it was asked of you."
"We fought because we needed to protect the innocent. Sacrifices had to be made."
Kenobi's left eyelid twitched very slightly.
"Believe me, working for Vader was the least destructive choice I could take," Bardan said on a low tone of voice.
"I'm sure you can see the irony in that sentence yourself. How do you intend to pay back for those actions?"
Bardan looked at his hands on the counter, gloved of brown leather despite the heat.
"I still have a lot of helping to do," he answered thoughtfully. "But I had to clear my name and secure my family first. It's survival."
He had given up on his moral code for that. Runa had lost her brother and her family. And Aresu... he never asked anything of her, yet she took the longest leap.
"You must have ways of coping with your conscience," Kenobi replied. "Who was that girl in the picture?"
"She was a padawan on Taris during the war. Her master died but she survived for two years alone, scavenging, stealing, and killing to defend herself. A fierce little brat."
"And where is she now?"
Did it matter that he'd know? Was Bardan going to regret this? "She lives with my wife back home."
"Ah... A foster family. That explains the look of fondness in your eyes." He smirked and paused before going at it again. "Taking a padawan under your wing, that must have been difficult."
"We gave her an opportunity to become an ordinary teenage girl and not be hunted down." Bardan felt a need to check his chrono, to look at his message inbox again and take his ship back home. "Now she learns to live a peaceful life, painting art with her mother."
There was a silence. Kenobi was probably trying to picture the context.
"You're here to talk me into surrendering myself, aren't you?"
"Haven't actually thought of it that way but it'd be a good start."
"I'm afraid that wouldn't possible, friend. Like you I have my duties here. None of which you should be concerned with, especially not Vader."
The Jedi Master sunk down his second drink as if drowning a haunting memory. Bardan sensed the swift but sad emotion that emanated from Kenobi and tried to recall what had happened during the last moments of the Republic. Where had he been?
"You were there when Palpatine ordered the destruction of the Jedi Temple," he said half-voiced. "What happened there?"
"I arrived moments later only to find the bodies... Vader had been quick, if that's any relief."
The grief in his voice was now clearly audible. Bardan decided to play along.
"So Vader killed your apprentice... Skywalker, was it?"
"Anakin, yes." Kenobi was now rubbing a hand across his forehead. "Did you know him?"
"I believe we spoke once or twice. Headstrong, ambitious. A tad naïve, too." He paused to see Kenobi beginning to sulk in his past. "When was the last time you saw him?"
"Why this interest for Anakin?" He retorted defensively.
Bardan smiled in a forgiving manner. "We talked about my issues, obviously you got your own. Also, I have reason to believe that Vader is interested in you for personal revenge."
Kenobi sat motionless for about five seconds before getting out of his seat and straightened his sleeves.
"Well, I'm adjourning this meeting. In a way you make valid points. On the other hand, I've got my business to tend to."
Bardan grabbed his helmet and followed the man out of the cantina, meeting the burning hot sunlight, nearly blinded and slapped in the face by the scolding air. Once protected behind his mask and his vision restored through optical filters he saw Kenobi hopping on a speeder and darting towards the horizon.
Maybe it was better that way. Maybe he could just let this one go and return to his family. Kenobi was clearly not willing to meet his old friend again after whatever happened between them.
Back into his ship, the Aggressor, Bardan turned the systems online, preparing for take off. The comlink screen came to life with an incoming transmission. He sighed and pressed the OK button.
"Found anything on Tatooine?" The deep synthetic voice wasn't even a surprise anymore.
"The trip was worthless," Bardan replied on an even tone. "You could have sent one of your lackeys to check on it."
It wasn't the first time he was lying to Darth Vader. He figured that if he disappointed him enough he'd get his freedom back. Or get executed, whichever.
"Do not test my patience. I will have you lift every grain of sand on that planet until you find Kenobi."
"Huh." Surprised, he put the take-off procedure on hold. "Why didn't you mention you were looking for your old master?"
Caught off guard, Vader stood silently as a transparent blue statue on the holo-console. His raspy mechanical breath didn't change though. Bardan waited for him to react.
"It didn't matter. As an enemy of the Empire he is to be destroyed like all the others."
"I have the feeling that you'd want to be doing that yourself... When the time comes." Any excuse to ditch the hunt was good now. "Let the Force guide us, and all that."
He reactivated the lifter engines and buckled his seat straps. Vader crossed his arms waiting to conclude the conversation.
"The times have shown we have to take action and make the Force go our way. That is how we earn our true power."
"Look, if you ever need to evacuate a station, patch up wounded troops or build a hospital you can call me. I'd rather use my power to help the living."
"Those petty matters do not concern me..."
Bardan looked at the holo-transmitter, feeling lucky he had kept his helmet on the whole time. Somewhere inside the other man's noggin was surely a spark of what was left of Skywalker.
"The Republic never gave me a chance to do what I'm best at. It's why I went rogue."
"What makes you think the Empire would hire a mercenary for humanitarian work?"
"Who said anything about humanitarian? I'm a healer, not a miracle worker." Vader paused and looked like he was giving it a serious thought, thumbs stuck in his belt. Bardan reached for the Off button. "I'll let you think about it. In the mean time, no more Jedi hunting. Gotab out."
The ship reached the upper atmosphere of Tatooine with roaring shivers until it got stabilized in the edge of space. Stars sparkled brightly over the bright yellow horizon of the planet.
I can go home.
It was a strange feeling, a relief to have asked for freedom. When he had walked out of General Zey's office, four years ago, it had felt similar. At the same time he worried about what lied ahead. The price of not controlling the consequences of other people's actions or his own. He pressed the preset destination to "home" on the navigation computer that started calculating. In two hours, it would be the middle of the night on Mandalore. Bardan removed his helmet and watched the stars strike out of the canopy.