"So what do you think?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what do you think about our mission?"
"Carth, we've got a Dark Lord after us, the expectations of the Jedi and the whole Republic on our backs, and now we have to track down four ancient pieces of technology over five hundred thousand years old. I don't have time to 'think' about our mission. It's just my job to do it."
"Come on, Kono. You must have some kind of feelings about it."
"Who am I to doubt the divine wisdom of the Jedi Council?"
"That's not very funny, considering."
"Carth, I am going to do whatever I have to in order to complete this mission, if that's what you're asking."
"No, that's not what I mean, dangit! What I mean is why did they send you? You, who are just a week out of being declared a Padawan; and that after spending a mere five weeks in Jedi training! Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this picture?"
"I don't really care as to the why, Carth. The Council decided to send me and Bastila. We didn't have any say in the issue."
"I just hope we don't end up regretting letting the Jedi Council involve us in all this."
"News flash, Carth: We were involved long before we went to Dantooine."
"I just don't trust their motives."
"You don't trust anyone."
"Dang right! And I have my reasons!"
"I'm sure you do, Carth. Any time you feel like sharing any of those reasons..."
"Look, Kono, forget I said anything! I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Fine. But we're still heading to Korriban."
"Whatever. Just as long as we're doing something."
Bastila opened her eyes, breaking her meditative pose. It was no use; she couldn't seem to center herself anymore. Ever since Taris and encountering Kono at the swoop track she had felt as if she were drowning in the torrential waves of power that emanated from him. The Force was a veritable storm around Kono Gansk. Even after being trained by the Masters at Dantooine he was only barely scratching at the surface of the immense power that surrounded him. But its influence on her was unmistakable; she was drowning in it.
Their mission to Tatooine had proven most revealing about his character; the mission took top priority. He never allowed anything to distract him from their primary objective of finding the Star Maps. Bastila was worried about him. His first instincts were always to fight. When taken by surprise; fight. When faced with veiled or open hostility; fight. When things didn't go as planned; fight. She guessed it might have something to do with his background as a Republic soldier. His mindset had been burned into him by years of military training; a couple weeks with a Jedi Master were not going to change that.
This mission could be the death of him. Or worse, it could lead him to the Dark Side. And if he fell, so would she.
More and more, lately, Bastila felt as if her Force Bond to Kono was tying her ever tighter to him in ways she did not understand. It seemed as if he could unconsciously project his moods through the Force. If he was agitated or concerned, so was she. If he was restless, she was also. It was most unsettling, especially at times like this when she realized for the thousandth time that she could no longer successfully meditate.
His presence through the Force was overpowering. Bastila couldn't imagine how Juhani managed to function as well as she did.
Abandoning meditation, Bastila stood up and began to pace restlessly about the Ebon Hawk.
T3-M4 rolled about tending to various things in his meticulous routine rounds of the ship. HK-47 had commandeered the table in the main hold to disassemble and reassemble his arsenal of weaponry over and over again - to keep his maintenance subroutines sharp he explained when she asked. Juhani had gone to sleep standing up; a Cathar thing, apparently.
Bastila noticed Kono coming from the cockpit. Her breath came up short at the sight of him, at the unavoidable reminder of his inconceivable power.
Kono's penetrating brown eyes were locked in a perpetually smoldering gaze beneath his prominent brow. His head was covered by long brown hair marked by streaks of blond. Black Jedi robes - acquired on Tatooine from a black market dealer - complimented his strong physical build as well as making it seem as if he could absorb all the light in the universe with his wealth of untapped power.
He noticed her staring.
"Is something wrong, Bastila?" Kono asked.
"Something wrong? Why, no, of course not. I mean, why would--?" Bastila stumbled, silently cursing herself for letting herself get so off-guard around him.
"It's written all over your face, Bastila. You can tell me," he pressed.
Gaining control of herself, Bastila looked at the floor.
"I'm unable to meditate." More of her anxiety crept into her tone than she would have liked.
"Has that ever happened to you before?"
"I first noticed I was having trouble centering myself while we were on Tatooine. It is as if I am drowning in the Force rather than being calmed by it as I should be. It's the most distressing feeling I've ever felt from the Force."
"Hmm." A contemplative expression came across Kono's face. "Come with me. If you cannot meditate, then we shall do the next best thing for your unease; we shall fight."
"Fight? Now?" Bastila was puzzled.
"Yes, fight. It is training, and a Jedi must be constantly training. Fighting helps find one's center in a more visceral way than does meditation. And it is not subject to the fickle moods of the Force." As he talked, Kono led Bastila back to the main hold.
He shrugged off the cloak from his black robes and brought his lightsabre to hand. Without igniting the blade, Kono fell into a Makashi stance and beckoned for Bastila to make a move.
Bastila didn't take the bait and brought her double-bladed sabre out in front of her. With a deft flick of her fingers, she lit the twin amber blades and twirled her lightsabre defensively.
Kono smiled a cold smile and leapt at her, igniting the violet blade of his own lightsabre. She effortlessly parried his first blow, balancing out his forward momentum and locking their sabres together inches from both their faces. With a grunt, Bastila pushed back, separating them by a few feet. She met his eyes, they were flaring to life from the promise of combat.
She attacked him, recklessly throwing herself forward at his single blade with her two. He blocked her with as much ease as she had blocked his initial assault. The long purple blade deflected her swing downward, and he used the momentum to twirl his sabre and reach up to fend off the corresponding strike from the other yellow beam.
They locked sabres again. Neither of them were hardly breathing hard yet. Kono spoke over the clash of their converged lightsabres."You are holding back. Release yourself into the battle. Become one with your blade. Then will you find peace amidst the chaos."
This time it was he who pushed away. Then he attacked once again.
Kono brought his sabre into a low cutting arc, which Bastila deflected. He immediately pulled back all of his forward impetus and twirled his whole body an entire rotation, lending immense thrust into his next blow. She came up lightning fast to block his swing.
He came at her with his violet sabre over and over again; testing her guard, probing her weak points, and taxing her strength. They circled the central table in the main hold, around an oblivious HK-47 totally absorbed in his own work.
Bastila was panting heavily, Kono hadn't even broken a sweat.
When they next clashed sabres together, Bastila gasped; "How do you do it? It is all I can do to fend you off."
Kono grinned at her and tossed loose hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head. "You have to let go of everything, even the Force, and let your lightsabre be guided by the basest of all instincts; survival. The Force is merely a tool, it is not the answer to everything. Let your instincts guide the Force, and the Force shall guide you. Now attack me."
And attack she did.
Bastila threw everything she had at him. Her amber blades hummed excitedly as she spun them in darting attacks. He dodged, parried, and blocked her every blow as they continued to circle the central table. When he counter-attacked, she would move swiftly to close the breaches in her own defenses and turn immediately back to the offensive.
As they fought, their eyes met. Bastila looked deep into Kono's brown eyes, as if searching for the secret of his fighting talent. She became almost entranced as she moved about the motions of the fight. Though her focus was on his eyes, she still attacked with all her energy. She swung her lightsabre with almost automatic precision. She felt the environment around her slip away into nothingness, she could she only Kono's eyes and read only the motion of his violet lightsabre. It was the most peculiar feeling she ever felt during a battle.
It was peace.
Kono broke the trance when he leaned up close, crossing their sabres, and spoke. "Now, do you see?"
Bastila deactivated her lightsabre.
"How do you do that?" She asked, amazed at his proficiency with the lightsabre.
"The more important question is how did you? And the answer is that you drew on my own calm, the calm I achieve during battle. Battle can be the purest of all meditations."
"But you are barely even a Padawan! Just a little over six weeks ago you began your first session with the Jedi Masters. How can you possibly have such a mastery of the lightsabre arts?"
Bastila asked.
"Tell me, of what did I dream last night?" Kono asked in turn.
Bastila was thrown off-balance by the odd question. "What did you dream? How could I possibly--?" Kono's expression made it clear he was not going to let this go until she answered the question. "Well, I remember seeing visions of a quiet house, which was then consumed by a fire," she responded.
"Yes. That is correct. Tell me now, why it is that you see my dreams and I yours?" Kono inquired.
The answer was obvious. The Force Bond.
"The Force has connected us," she answered.
"Yes. We are connected in stronger ways than you yet know. During my brief period of Jedi training, I called upon your own training to strengthen myself. I know as much as you know of lightsabre combat. And you forget, I was a soldier long before I was a Jedi. As part of the Republic special forces, I received some training in a modified Echani battle-form. Seeing it through the Force has allowed me to achieve a much higher level of physical battle prowess than might be expected of a neophyte Jedi Padawan."
"Can--can you teach me this battle-form?" Bastila asked hesitantly.
"Bastila, you have already taught yourself. What you seek is not instruction, but understanding. Think on my words and what you learned from our fight, and seek me out any time you wish to fight again."
"But I can no longer med--" she stopped short. Where once the Force had been cascading around Kono and filling the entire ship with the noise of its power, there was now a gentle but fast-flowing current. She no longer felt as if she were drowning in the Force, but rather that she was floating on its surface relaxed. Kono was right; the fighting had been just like meditation.
Kono smiled at her and turned to go back to the cockpit, leaving her sorting through a jumble of sudden confused thoughts.
Juhani, who had watched Bastila and Kono's whole lightsabre fight, walked up behind Bastila.
"Bastila, are you alright?" She asked tentatively. "You look... shaken."
"I'm fine, Juhani. Thank you for your concern. I'm seeing clearer now than I have in days," Bastila answered to the Cathar's worry.
"Are you sure? I can sense a change in you." Juhani's brow was furrowed questioningly.
"Kono and I had a sparring session that brought out more in me than I expected. He also told me that he can draw power from the bond that connects him to me and I to him; that is why he learned the lightsabre forms and many other aspects of the Jedi training so quickly. It will take time for me to fully process this," Bastila more thoroughly explained.
"He is a unique individual, that one," Juhani whispered.
"He is indeed."
"Carth, are we on course?"
"What kind of a question is that? Of course we are. What do you think I do in this cockpit all the time? Play pazaak all by my lonesome? Think up ways to make your life miserable?"
"Okay, sorry Carth. I know you're working hard to control the automated hyperspace navigation programs."
"Did you seriously come in here just to make fun of me?"
"No I didn't."
"I thought as much. What is it you want?"
"We need to talk about some things."
"We need to talk about a lot of things. What things in particular?"
"Maybe we could start with Saul Karath."
"What about Saul?"
"Come on, Carth, I've read your profile. You used to be Admiral Karath's golden boy and he was one of the first and foremost Republic officers to betray us to the Sith. Don't tell me that doesn't have something to do with your universal distrust of everyone."
"Well, I suppose it is about time I talked to someone about that. But I don't see how you could possibly understand what it's like to have someone you've respected and trusted implicitly all your life - someone like Saul - turn around and betray you utterly in such a heinous and cold-blooded way. Saul was a mentor to me; a father figure, if you will. Without him, a lot of us would have lost hope early on during the Mandalorian War. He pulled us through some dark and terrible times during the war and led us to incredible victories that none of us thought were possible."
"He was a great man. The last person you'd expect to be a traitor."
"You're dang right about that. Saul was a hero of the Republic many times over. I was astonished, then, when one day he started talking as if we were going to lose it all to the Mandalorians. I just couldn't believe he was saying some of things he said to me. I guess he was trying to recruit me into the Sith, but the thought of that was inconceivable at the time. I can still remember clearly how angry he was at the end of that argument. He stormed off and I never saw him again. Then, the next morning on Telos, the bombs started to drop."
"He sold you out to the Sith?"
"Heck no, he did a whole lot more than that. He was leading that fleet! Those bombs were dropped by his orders! Not only that, but he gave the Sith Telos's defense grid codes so they could bypass our deep-space scanners and enter the system undetected and leave us scrambling to mount a defense while they scorched our world. My wife died in that attack, along with hundreds of thousands of others who were killed in the bombardment. Millions more died from the environmental after-effects. I never knew what happened to my son Dustil. His body was never recovered and he was declared missing by the official reports. I searched for him for weeks, hoping against hope that I'd find him alive, but finally I gave up. That's why I will never place my trust in anyone ever again. Trust is costly, and I've already paid far too much for it. I'm not going through that again; I won't."
"You still have a lot of anger in you, Carth. I can sense that from a mile away."
"Saul destroyed my life, he destroyed millions of other lives, and he laid waste to my home planet. You'd better believe I'm still angry! I swore I'd kill Saul and I intend to keep that oath!"
"Your anger is good. It gives you focus, you draw strength from it. Your determination will carry you through many hard times. But you must be careful not to let your anger overpower reason, for reason is the tool by which anger is turned is turned into a greater weapon than anything borne of the Force. Anger without reason is open-ended, it burns itself out without sustenance. Reasoned anger can be channeled by a rational mind into battle. Such anger is the deadliest weapon of the Sith, and is also their greatest weakness."
"Yeah, except anger leads to the dark side."
"Look at yourself, Carth. Look at how much you've lost. You have a right to your anger. There is no one who can tell you what you should or shouldn't feel. Your emotions are yours alone, and no one has the right to take them away from you. It is through emotion that we fight on for our lives; without emotion life itself is meaningless."
"I've never thought about it that way before."
"Good. A fresh perspective will do you well. I'm going to need you to be well prepared for our next mission."
"Korriban."
"That's right, Korriban. The Den of Hate itself."