Part 1

"One more time, Bastila."

The little girl scowled. In a sing-song voice she began to recite: "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is –"

"Stop." Master Hestra held up a hand. "I can see you know the words, Bastila, but simply knowing them isn't enough. You need to understand the Code, not just be able to recite it." She looked into the small, angry face and sighed. "Do you actually have any idea what it means?"

Bastila's scowl deepened. "Yes. It means we're not allowed to have feelings."

"No, that is not what the Code means." Hestra was beginning to feel very tired. "Everyone has feelings – what's important is being able to control them and not let them get the better of you. That's what the words of the Code mean." The small girl folded her arms in front of her and stared intently at the floor. "I know it's not easy, Bastila, but you're nearly ten now, you're old enough to understand this. You're certainly too old to be getting into silly fights with the other children –"

Bastila started and looked up. "But Master, Velda started it!" she cried out passionately. "She said that I come from a stupid backwater planet and I'll never be able to use the Force properly and I should go and train with the two-year-olds. And then I hit her and she hit me back..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"I know that, Bastila, and she'll be punished as well. But whatever she said to you, it was no excuse for slapping her. How can we teach you to control the Force when you can't even control yourself?" Hestra gently laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. "This isn't the first time you've quarrelled with Velda, is it?"

Bastila lowered her eyes to the ground again. Hestra heaved another sigh and ran her hand irritably through her greying hair; this was getting nowhere. "I think you'd better stay in your room until you've calmed down. And if Velda says something nasty to you again, come and tell me about it instead of starting a fight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Hestra," Bastila murmured in her meekest voice. But as Hestra turned to leave the room, she pulled a hideous face at the woman's back.

"And don't make faces at me, child." The door swung shut behind her.

Bastila waited until her master's footsteps retreated into the distance, then picked up one of her boots and hurled it at the wall with as much force as she could muster. It made a satisfying thud. Angrily she picked it up and threw it again, even harder this time. It wasn't fair! Why were they all so mean to her? She'd thought it would be fun to learn to use the Force, but it was all rules and Codes and meditation, and they wouldn't teach her anything interesting until she'd 'learned to control her emotions better'. She'd never be as good as the others, not if she stayed here a million years...

A sudden wave of homesickness overwhelmed her, and she sank down onto her bed. If only her father were here... He would understand about Velda, he'd go and shout at her for calling his daughter names, like he once shouted at that boy who'd pulled her hair in the school playground... Suddenly the idea came to her: she would go back and see him! She'd run away from the enclave and get on a ship back to Talravin. He'd come and pick her up, and she would tell him how much she hated the Academy, and surely he wouldn't make her go back? Maybe then they'd be sorry for treating her so badly...

Quickly she gathered together a few of her things and stuffed them into her bag. Not her suitcase; it was too heavy, and someone might suspect if they saw her carrying that. They could send the rest of her stuff to her later. Opening her door cautiously, she glanced about her to check that no one was around; then she quietly closed the door behind her and crept down the corridor, feeling like a criminal. Once she felt that she'd gone a sufficient distance, she broke into a run.

If Bastila had been thinking rationally, it might have occurred to her that she was all the more likely to draw attention to herself by running. But all she could think of was her 'escape' from the enclave. Down the stairs, up this corridor, round the corner... And then disaster struck; as she hurtled round a corner, she collided head-on with someone going the other way.

"Oof," said a male voice. She looked up into the startled face of a boy about five or six years older than her; he had a Padawan braid in his hair and a lightsaber clipped to his belt. Normally she would hardly have dared to speak to any of the older Padawans, but at the moment she was in such a bad mood that she didn't even care. "Get out of my way!" she snarled, pushing past him and running off down the corridor.

She got only a few steps further before something lifted her off her feet and spun her round. Suspended several feet in the air, she found herself staring at the boy she had so rudely shoved aside; one of his right hands was raised slightly, holding her up in the air, and he was grinning. "Put me down!" she shouted angrily, struggling to free herself from the Force grip.

To her intense annoyance, the boy only laughed. "I'll put you down when you find some manners, little girl!" He moved his fingers slightly and she began to slowly rotate around, as if caught in a small whirlwind. Utterly furious now, she struggled even harder: "Put me down, you mean, horrible boy!" She spun faster. Now tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks, and she let out a sob of frustration. Suddenly she felt herself gently lowered to the ground, and the Force released her; slightly dizzy, she stumbled and collapsed in a sobbing heap.

The boy ran over to her, no longer laughing. "Hey, calm down. Calm down. I didn't mean to make you cry." He put out a hand to help her to her feet. "Are you OK?" She nodded, still sniffling, and rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. "What's your name, kid?"

"Bastila. Bastila Shan."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Revan." The boy smiled at her. He had a nice smile, and his eyes were warm and friendly; suddenly she began to feel somewhat ashamed of her earlier behaviour. "So where are you off to in such a hurry, Bastila?"

She sniffed and looked up at him defiantly. "I'm running away. Back home."

He looked amused. "And just how do you plan to do that?"

"I'm going to find a ship that's going back to Talravin..."

"Talravin? Bastila, that's the other side of the galaxy from here. Do you even have any money?"

She hadn't thought about that. "Well, I'll... hide on board. In the cargo hold. I'll be a stowaway..." Revan was clearly struggling not to laugh. She began to feel embarrassed as she realised how ridiculous her idea had been. "Well, then, maybe I'll ask if I can be sent back. They said I could go if I was really unhappy..."

His face grew more serious. "Are you really so unhappy?" She nodded. "What about?"

She stared at him. "Why would you care?"

"Well, it must be something pretty bad if you're seriously thinking of running away." He took her hand in his and led her over to the stairs, where he sat down on one of the steps. "Come on, you can tell me."

"I... well, alright..." And for some reason, she suddenly found herself pouring her heart out to him. How she hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, but her mother had persuaded her father that it would be a good idea, and she had finally agreed just to please him. How she'd arrived at the Academy - over half a year ago now - only to find that becoming a Jedi was far more difficult than she'd expected, and the masters called her 'spoilt' and constantly lectured her about self-control, and the other children teased her because she was so far behind them. And of course, how badly she missed her father... Tears began to well up in her eyes again as she thought of him, and she struggled to speak.

Revan had listened quietly the whole time, occasionally nodding or saying "I see". As her voice trailed off, he put an arm around her shoulders, and they sat for a while in silence. Finally he spoke: "Do you really want to leave the Jedi, Bastila?"

"I... I don't know. I don't really care that much about being a Jedi. I just want to go home and see Father again..."

"You wouldn't be able to come back, you know." His voice was serious. "Do you think your father would be happy if you left?"

Bastila gulped. She hadn't thought about that. Her mother would be angry with her, she knew, but that didn't matter so much. But her father... She remembered how proud he had looked as he'd said goodbye to her at the gates of the enclave, and how he'd smiled, even though there had been tears in his eyes. Suddenly she could picture his face as he arrived to collect her – pleased to see her, of course, but his eyes filled with disappointment and shame. His daughter hadn't been good enough for the Jedi...

"No. No, I don't think it would make him happy," she whispered, twisting her hands in front of her. Revan said nothing. "But even if I stayed, what good would it do? I'll never catch up with the others, they've all been here since they were little. I'll never be as good as them..."

"No, you won't." Her heart sank down into the floor and then suddenly leapt again as he continued, "You'll be better than them. You're very strong in the Force, I can tell you that."

"Really?" For a moment she was so surprised that she forgot to be miserable. "But how can I get better when Master Hestra won't teach me anything?"

"I'm sure she will teach you more soon, but she's right about one thing – you have to learn to control yourself better. That's part of being a Jedi. What if you got angry with someone and used the Force to hurt them?"

She looked indignant. "I wouldn't do that!"

"You might do it without meaning to. It's all too easy, I'm afraid." He sighed. "That's how people start to fall to the Dark Side..."

Bastila nodded reluctantly; it wasn't the first time she'd been warned about the Dark Side. "I suppose you're right." Suddenly a thought struck her. "Revan, could you teach me how to do what you did?"

"You mean the Force whirlwind?" She nodded, and he frowned. "I don't know about that, Bastila. I mean, I'm still a Padawan myself – I'm not supposed to train anyone else. If any of the Masters found out –"

"I won't tell anyone," she wheedled. "Pleeeeease?" She gazed up at him, her blue eyes wide and beseeching. It was a trick that had never failed to work on her father, and Revan was by no means immune to its effects.

"Oh, all right then," he sighed. He looked around nervously, checking that no one could hear them, then spoke in a low voice. "I'll teach you how to do it. But you mustn't use it on any of your friends." She nodded happily. "And you have to promise me you won't get into any more fights, OK?"

She smiled at him. "I promise."

And that was how Revan began to teach Bastila to use the Force. He was a good teacher, and she could learn very quickly when she put her mind to it; soon she was making great strides forward, although she had to conceal how much she had learned from her Master. Revan grew quite fond of her, and after a while he began to help her with her studies as well, attempting to explain the things she found difficult to understand. For her part, she believed he knew everything, and he could do no wrong in her eyes. His friends got used to seeing her trot around after him, and eventually they even stopped teasing him about his 'girlfriend'.

Bastila's mood improved greatly as well. She was a lot happier, and as she began to catch up with the others in her studies, they no longer teased her so much. Remembering her promise to Revan, she made an effort to control herself and rarely got into arguments, even with Velda. The Masters were baffled by the dramatic change in her attitude; once she overheard one of them asking Hestra, "What has happened to that child?"

One afternoon Bastila had finished her lessons and was taking a walk through the fields surrounding the enclave. She was just thinking about turning back when she heard voices in the distance: a faint cheer, and then the sound of clapping. Curious, she made her way in the direction of the sound. As she rounded the side of a cliff, she saw a large group of young Jedi sitting in the clearing ahead; beyond them were two sparring figures, their lightsabers hissing as they clashed together. A duel!

One of the watching Jedi spotted her as she approached. "Oh look, it's Revan's Padawan!" A few of the others looked round and smiled; she vaguely recognised one of them as Malak, Revan's best friend. "Come to see the fight, have you?"

Now she was close enough to see that one of the duellists was Revan; the other was another Padawan, a few years older. Their duel seemed more graceful than fierce, like the ones she had occasionally witnessed in the training rooms at the Academy, but both their faces bore an expression of grim determination. "What's happening?" she asked curiously, sitting down on the grass beside the others.

"That's Guun Han Saresh fighting Revan," explained a female Padawan. "They got into an argument about something or other, and Revan won. Well, Guun Han hates being proved wrong, especially by someone three years younger than him – so he says, 'Well, let's see if you know as much about lightsaber combat as you do about the Force.' And of course Revan had to take him up on it..."

"Typical Revan," Malak muttered under his breath.

"Typical man," said the girl, rolling her eyes.

Malak saw Bastila's look of concern. "Oh, don't worry, they're not trying to hurt each other. I'm afraid Revan's not going to win, though."

"Yeah, it's too bad," said one of the others. "I'd like to see Saresh taken down a peg or two – he's got a head the size of a rancor egg."

Bastila turned her attention towards the duel, and soon realised that Malak was right. Of the two combatants, Revan was by far the stronger in the Force, but the other boy was older and he'd had more training – besides, she could see by the colour of his lightsaber that he was a Guardian, whereas Revan was a Sentinel. Revan was fighting well, using his skill in the Force to make up for his lack of experience in lightsaber combat, but she could sense that he was tiring. Sooner or later he would make a fatal mistake.

The little girl felt her heart sink as she watched Guun Han gradually force his opponent back towards the cliff face. Revan was better really, he deserved to win – it wasn't fair. If only she could help him somehow... Suddenly an idea came to her: maybe she could use the Force to help him? She wasn't sure if it was even possible, but it was worth a try.

She closed her eyes, as if she were meditating, and tried to sense Revan's presence through the Force. It wasn't difficult; she could feel it swirl and ripple around him like a whirlpool. Now, if she could channel the energy of the Force through her and towards him... Nothing. She concentrated harder, attempting to block out all external stimulations, driving all other thoughts out of her mind.

All of a sudden, a murmur ran through the assembled crowd: Revan, who had appeared to be close to losing the fight, was suddenly fighting back with renewed energy and vigour. Guun Han, who had expected an easy win, was caught off guard. He stumbled backwards, trying to fend off the unexpected rain of blows from Revan's lightsaber, attempting to regain his advantage – but to no avail.

Bastila poured every last ounce of energy into her meditation. A chorus of gasps went up from the watching Jedi as Revan leapt into the air, somersaulted over Guun Han's head and landed on the other side of him, all within a fraction of a second. Momentarily stunned, Guun Han realised what had happened and whirled round in an attempt to block Revan's attack – but he was too late. The force of Revan's strike knocked his saber from his hand and sent him staggering backwards. Gasping for breath, he fell onto the grass.

The huge roar of applause brought Bastila back to her senses. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Revan standing over his opponent, breathing heavily, the tip of his lightsaber hovering above Guun Han's chest. After a moment he de-ignited his saber and stood back. Guun Han sat up and got slowly to his feet. He looked confused and mortified, but he had too much honour to refuse to acknowledge Revan's victory. "Well done," he said shakily, still struggling for breath. "Well done. I didn't expect you to fight as well as that... I suppose I shouldn't have underestimated you." He held out a hand, which Revan grasped and shook silently; he looked, if it was possible, even more stunned than Guun Han. Then the two of them turned and walked back towards their respective groups of friends.

Revan did not get far before he was mobbed by a crowd of admirers, laughing and congratulating him on his win. Bastila remained where she was, feeling exhausted and drained of energy, but happy. She'd done it! She waited until the crowd finally dispersed and began to drift off back to the enclave, then got to her feet and walked over to where Revan stood in conversation with Malak. "Well done, Revan."

"Oh, hello Bastila," he said absent-mindedly. "Thanks." Then he turned back to Malak. "I'm telling you, Malak, it wasn't an act. I was so tired, I was close to giving up... then suddenly I felt this huge surge of energy. Just out of nowhere..." He sounded bewildered, almost worried.

Malak stared at his friend. "You're serious?" Revan nodded. "Do you think someone was... trying to influence the fight somehow? Using the Force?"

"Who is there here who knows how to do that?" Revan shook his head. "Even I don't know how to do that. No, I don't understand..." Their voices grew fainter as they walked off.

Bastila followed a little way behind, sensing vaguely that she'd done something wrong, though she wasn't sure why. She'd thought Revan would be pleased, but he didn't seem all that happy, even though he'd won the fight. She wondered if she ought to tell him... no, perhaps it would be better not to. For some reason she had a feeling that he'd be angry with her...

After that, Bastila did not try anything similar again. It would be best, she decided, to try and forget about what had happened. She didn't mention the fight to Revan again, and she never told anyone else what she had done that day.