Logan's hand quivered as the shimmering blue of his blade retreated into the dull steel hilt. He rotated his neck slowly in an attempt to release the tension, before clipping the Lightsaber to his belt.
"Bloody things." He muttered as he turned to his female Jedi companion. Her greyish orbs still fixed on the beast he had just killed. It wasn't the killing of the Kath Hound that bothered her so much, though she lamented for all lives lost, no, it was the ruthless efficiency he displayed when creating death, for him it was poetry, she shouldn't have found it beautiful. It unnerved her. "They always jump out when you least expect it."
"Yes, well, back to the business at hand," Bastila replied after returning to the world around her. Her gaze lingered on her bond mate's hands for a few moments, powerful palms, long confident fingers. Flecks of onyx strands stood out against his pale skin, leading up to the wrist, though hidden by his robes. She refused to let her mind linger. She soon turned her attention to the crumbling landmarks. This place was ancient, and sacred. The Force was muddy here. She could feel what it once was, generations of Jedi had stood here before her. Were they as perplexed? Were they as scared? The heavy and intricate door before her promised to reveal so much, but she was afraid. The power she felt was dulled here, conflicting natures casting a shroud. She knew what lay behind the door. The Dark Side of the Force was whispering from a distance, begging her to enter. She shuddered at the experience and turned back to Logan. His lids were down, covering the green, shallow creases on his forehead showed his concentration. She could feel him open himself up to the Force, his curious nature there in his presence, gently probing, testing. Bastila was surprised at the speed of his growth, though she knew it was foolish to be. How could she ever underestimate this man after everything he'd done, after what he'd done for her?
"I...I have never felt anything like this before." Logan's lids slowly lifted as her feminine voice reached his ears. There was uncertainty in her tone, restraint.
"Nor I..." He replied, with equal measure of ambivalence, though for entirely different reasons. He knew this was his first encounter with any powerful imprint of the Dark Side, still, he couldn't shake off the feeling of familiarity, like slipping into an old pair of shoes. He felt welcomed. The moment quickly passed and he was animated once more, life in his eyes, creases at the corners as he gave a quick smile to the woman on his left. "I have, however, only been a Jedi for a few weeks so that probably explains it... I don't know what your excuse is... Shall we see if anyone's home?"
Logan strode up to the door with the intricate patterns, his hand instinctively reaching for the carving in the centre. Something questioned his presence as he drew near, one finger brushed against the ancient stone, answering. Welcome home. The Jedi stepped cautiously into the darkened hallway as the door moved to greet them, the sinister imprint quickly engulfing them, cold chills. They moved swiftly to the end of the hall, stopping at a door similar to the one at the entrance. They paced up to it slowly, expecting it to open at their presence. It didn't.
"What do we do now?" Bastila asked with an upward inflection, fear in her voice. He could barely make her out in the encasing darkness, a glint of grey, her smell. That was it. Even her Force signature was reduced to a murmur, drowning in the presence of the dark imprint. Submerged. Logan closed his eyes and let the Force wash over him, not embracing the darkness, nor ignoring it. He could feel himself. His hand lifted slowly, digits twitched as he felt the locks, familiarity met him once again as he pulled them across telepathically. It was not a good feeling. The floor grumbled as the heavy stone retreated into the earth, remnants of dust thickened the darkness, creating an impenetrable mist. Bastila's fear overwhelmed Logan, was it their bond, or was it simply magnified by the imprint? It filled his senses, penetrating his mouth and nostrils. Her shivering exhalation drew his attention. A quiet noise, as he was used to from her. How could he comfort her? Reassure her? Would she feel insulted? Patronised? Demeaned? He wasn't confident in his abilities, and instead decided to try and remove a level of seriousness.
"Ladies first." Logan teased, adding as much playfulness to his words as he could.
"Men." Was the muted response as she brushed past him, walking quickly into a dimly lit chamber. At the centre of the room stood an exotic looking droid, ancient, yet more advanced than any they had seen.
"Huuseef joiiskkeyy slehhressgurb voifleaaskzzy... hooormidd fullask queert sieeemeeerg?"
"What language is that you're trying to speak?" Logan queried as he moved to the side of his bond mate. The droid paused for a moment, red eye at its centre flashing. It then started speaking in a different language, though equally foreign as the last.
"Quatin skumin loymin keyt... keylin tulas hermid foylat. Kermad soylat erbos?"
"I still don't understand you." The droid was soundless again, its eye still once more. After a prolonged silence, it spoke up for the third time, though not using galactic basic, or any modern dialect familiar within the Republic, the language was recognisable to both Jedi.
"Hey! I understood you!"
"I recognise this language as well. It seems to be speaking in an archaic variant of the Selkath language." Bastila explained, she hid her surprise well, but it was there, he saw it.
"How would a droid on Dantooine know ancient Selkath?" Logan asked, turning to face her, unanswered questions laid bare in his eyes, deep unending green. She couldn't give him the answers, she refused.
"I don't know. Why don't you question the machine more...it seems to respond to you." Guilt dripped from her tongue, she was sure he could sense it. Logan, oblivious to her anguish, complied with Bastila's request and questioned the droid, eventually discovering the only way to progress further was to pass two tests.
"So all we have to do is complete the tests to the left and the right, and the door behind the droid opens up... simple." Logan explained as they moved towards the door on the left.
"I know, but don't you think it could be a tr..." Bastila's feet fused to the spot, there was no warning, no tremor in the currents of the Force to allow her to prepare herself. She was greeted with brutality. The mutilated corpse of a Jedi Master was splayed across the time-worn floor. Robes and flesh and bone were torn and twisted, revealing a hole where the man's chest should have been. Thick red had crusted into a puddle beneath him. The pain he had died with was evident. As she stood there, staring at him, the currents at last came to the surface. "Nemo..." She finally whispered. Her greyish orbs misted over without warning, she sucked at the inside of her cheeks, biting the gums to restrain herself. He was a kindly man. Humble and intelligent. Why did he not wait for them? Did he not trust her companion? Did he not trust her? She could have helped him if he had only waited. "There is peace, there is peace, there is peace, there is peace..." Logan's cloak gathered in the mist as he bent over the broken body. He put his hand to the venerable Jedi's face, and pulled the lids down. The pain that was once etched there, had now subsided. He attached the master's Lightsaber to his belt before rising.
Bastila was still frozen, tense, fighting. Logan moved himself in front of her, getting her attention quickly. She was reluctant to meet his gaze, but lifted her head slowly. Those stormy eyes of hers, they were usually so confident, so defiant. Logan's restraint wavered as he looked into her face, heavy, dark, pendulous clouds threatened to erupt in her eyes. They were full, shimmering, and hurt. The muscles in her lower jaw and neck were tense and twitching. She refused to vent. How could he help her? If he pulled her close and offered her physical comfort, as his desires urged him to, would she she think that he was taking advantage? Would she reject him? Seeing her like this, in obvious distress...he didn't like it. He cared about what happened to her.
Logan raised his arms and stretched them forwards, pulling her towards him with a movement that held no traces of hesitation, a movement she found impossible to deny. He pressed himself into her, tilting his head to the right to allow her to take refuge on his chest and shoulder. Her body was stiff at first, shocked and unwilling, unsure of what to do with this gesture. He pushed his fingers against her back, lowering his head further, moving closer. Her arms, previously only dangling, limp instruments, now slowly moved up. She clutched at the fabric covering his biceps, delicate fingers burrowing in safety. Her body shivered and relaxed, dark strands clinging to his robes as she buried her head in his chest, just beneath his neck. She fully accepted his comforting embrace.
"The...pain he must have been in..." She whispered eventually, liquid now leaving her eyes. Her cheeks were now hot and damp, she pushed herself deeper into his grasp, his left breastbone her new hiding place. Logan remained silent, unsure of what to say, unsure if words could ever be enough at a moment like this. He was used to death, he had seen things no being should see, but Bastila, she made him want to say the right thing, leave her sheltered in innocence. He wanted to protect her. He leaned back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. Her moisture soaked cheeks were glistening in the dimness, the left one slightly red. She seemed ashamed of her tears, eyes squinting then closing immediately after fresh ones slid down her face. His thumbs each moved inwards, stemming the tide, offering succour. She found the course skin on his pads so comforting, so inviting. He didn't expect her to be strong. To be a Jedi. She opened her eyes reluctantly, dust and air stinging as she revealed her orbs. She glanced up at him, hesitation in the movement. His gaze was waiting for her, concern, not pity, embedded in him. He was there for her, as he had been from the start, from before. Those eyes, green thrumming forth. Her lip oscillated in desperation.
"There is no death." He whispered low, growling from his chest, intense and sincere. For a moment before he spoke, she was no Jedi, she was a woman. A woman seeking comfort and tenderness from a man, a woman revelling in affection. The phrase he uttered shattered the dream, it forced her with brutality, to remember who she was, who she had to be. Bastila pulled back, releasing herself from his embrace. She needed no comfort, no affection, no tenderness. Her reply was a statement of her resolve and commitment.
"There is the Force."
"Did you do this?" Logan demanded after accepting Bastila's retreat. He turned to the droid as it replied, restraint at the limit.
"*I am not programmed for combat.*" Logan's body tensed at the answer, he glanced towards Bastila while reaching for his weapon.
"Be ready." He warned while moving cautiously towards the door on the left, the female Jedi gave him a nod as she unclipped her double-bladed sabre from its resting place on her belt.
A rusted droid lay dormant at the room's centre, lying in wait. Logan activated his blade as a greeting, with Bastila quickly following suit. Creaking from the metal let on the that the droid was awake, their shimmering weapons drenched the room in a surge of colour, yellow and blue. Green at the heart. Orange bolts of plasma began to pulse towards the Jedi, they were deflected with relevant ease. Logan threw himself into the air, using the Force to close the distance between himself and the droid in a mere moment. He swung his sabre as he landed, bringing it down hard, the blue of it causing an explosion of colour as it crashed against the machines shield. Logan grunted in frustration as he rolled beneath a golden bolt. The move should have cleanly decapitated the droid. He hurled a handful of kinetic energy at his enemy, but found himself enraged as it dissipated harmlessly, water on rock. The droid's shields, while obviously old, were very powerful.
"Bastila, get away!" He ordered, flipping back gracefully as he barked the words. He tossed an Ion grenade at the droid, landing softly as the explosion engulfed the creature, metal and blue illuminating the area. Bastila was still in combat stance, waiting to see if the droid was still active. The grenade had the desired effect. The droid was on the floor, steaming from its joints. Shields down. Logan threw his Lightsaber towards it, severing its head and permanently destroying it. "Fucker!" He exclaimed, while wiping the sweat from his brow. Crisis over for the moment, the Jedi walked in silence towards terminal at the end of the room. Logan studied the technology carefully before deciding to press a button. The terminal flickered to life, a dull hum vibrating through its wires. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as the screen glowed, digging his nails deep into the skin. The language here was incomprehensible. Frustration and anger was bubbling to the surface, so he vented his fury on the terminal by giving it a swift kick. "Shit, shit shit!" He growled under his breath while his throbbing toe writhed inside his boot.
"Must you be so vulgar?" Her pitch was set higher than usual, her disapproving tone. His dark brows rose slowly, he was ready to speak, ready to question her repression, but the terminal flashed a few times before he could mouth it. The computer was silent for a moment, and then it let out a lone beep, a noise that Logan's data pad mimicked. Inserting his data pad into a receptacle in the terminal, he waited. Within a few seconds, words appeared on the screen in the form of a question.
"WHAT ARE THE THREE PRIMARY DEATH BRINGING SEEDS?"
Logan buried his fingers in his dark locks, scraping back in confusion. Fresh text quickly appeared on his data pad, bringing with it clarity. The words read: ARBOREAL, VOLCANIC, GRASSLAND, DESERT, OCEANIC, BARREN.
"I get it." He said to himself, relief flooding his chest. Bastila was watching intently, she walked up to him and placed a concerned hand on is broad shoulder, though she felt selfish in this move.
"What is it? She asked, in that musical tone. Yes, he would like that, her voice set to music. Soft, liquid, tender. He smiled at the thought, warmth filling him. Back to the business at hand.
"Its simple," He began after his mind had settled. "to pass the test we need to pick the three that cannot support life, they are barren, desert and volcanic." Bastila looked at his data pad and agreed. He typed them into the terminal and moved on to the second room.
There wasn't even time to blink. Logan was on the floor before he could move, limp, useless, paralysed. Was that pain he felt? He wasn't sure. A cold, persistent throb ran through his body. Sink or swim? A female cry penetrated the deadened senses. He could see her, she was limp like him, clutching her blade with one hand. The machine was upon her, readying itself for the kill. No, no, he could see through the fog, he could feel his body waiting for him, wake up. He heard her again, more desperate than before, no. She was injured, blood on the floor. He wouldn't let this happen. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Logan flew towards the droid before it could plant its killing blow, he struck at it without care for precision, hacking it into a corner. After throwing another Ion grenade, its shields were down quickly. Then he made it spare parts.
Logan moved silently to where Bastila was slumped, she was clutching her wrist, which was bleeding profusely.
"You're hurt." He muttered as he reached her level. His large hands moved towards her wound.
"Its not as bad as it looks" She insisted, pain seeping through her tone. He took hold of her gently, tenderness in his movement.
"Let me see." He said, while gently removing her delicate hand from the wound. The gash was deep, peeling away plenty of skin as it was made. Thick, hot blood was pouring forth, he needed to stem the tide. Logan placed his hand over the wound and closed his eyes, He could feel her liquid seep through his fingers, melding with his skin. He ignored this, instead connecting with the current that ran through his body, calling on the murmurs and sending them to her. He lifted his crimson hand from her wrist after he was done, taxed to the limit. The bleeding had stopped, course, crisp matter had scabbed over the clotting wound. Bastila glanced down at her damaged arm, then back up to Logan. He was tugging at his left sleeve, tearing at the flimsy cloth, it hissed as he ripped it away.
"We don't want this to get infected or reopen... but you'll live," He muttered in concentration as he wrapped the fabric gently around her wrist. Once the makeshift bandage was secure, he turned his attention to getting her on her feet. "Can you stand ?" He was looming over her now, one of his powerful hands clutching her right bicep. She didn't need his help, she wouldn't take it, no matter how much she wanted to.
"Yes, I can manage."
"Are you su..." Bastila hoisted herself up, putting a little weight onto her left leg in the process. The numbness was still there, and it sent her crashing to the floor. The harshness of the ground refused to greet her, instead, she was in his arms, safe. "You can manage, can you?" He quipped with great delight. He was leaning towards her, arched over her suspended body, mischief shining from his features. Her lashes flitted as she searched his face, searching for an answer that would appease him. His smile deepened as he brought himself closer, she was tense, questioning, aware. "Can you?" He whispered once more, though this tone was now crackling and serious. The weight of the situation was not lost on her. She wanted nothing more than to surrender, to give in. She couldn't let this attraction take hold.
"Yes, I can."
"You're the boss." Logan said as he stiffened, stung by her snub. He made his way over to the terminal quickly, not looking back as she hobbled slowly behind him. This time the computer wanted to know the three primary life giving seeds. "Easy." He muttered and typed in the correct answers, a low growl from the entrance told the Jedi that the main door was open.
"Logan...thank you for, for helping me earlier." Bastila grumbled to her bond mate with some displeasure as they made their way back to the main chamber. His face began to tense and lift as the words reached his ears. He had to tease, he couldn't resist.
"Don't worry about it Bas, just remember, if you ever want to be swept off your feet again, you only have to ask." He beamed fully as his sentence provoked the desired effect.
"Swept of my f...? I did not ask you to suspend me off the ground like a..a..puppet on a string, you insufferable NERF HERDER!"
"I do not herd Nerf's." He coolly replied as she charged past him.
The Jedi entered the newly opened chamber in silence, the flecks of dust that hovered in the air shimmered in the cracks of light. Still, despite the muted beauty of the place, this was the centre of the imprint. The darkness was confident, sure of its dominance.
"He stood here, Revan. Right here."
"Powerful signatures can leave traces, footprints if you will." Bastila hastily offered, Logan grunted in compliance. The Jedi moved closer to the dark object that occupied the centre of the room, it was closed, dormant, waiting. Soon, its huge mechanical petals began to groan and waken, each individually opening. A silvery light began to pulse from its core, showing a clear picture of the galaxy.
"This... this must be what Revan and Malak were searching for...this must be where there journey down the dark side began." Bastila gasped, her tone unnerved the man to her left, was she expecting this?
"So... is it some type of map?"
"Yes, but it seems to be incomplete..." Bastila trailed, obviously disappointed with this sliver of information.
"Yeah, but that's Kashyyyk. And here's Dantooine, Korriban, Mannan, and Tatooine. They have no geographical connection though...I can't see wh..." A thought struck him. "Wait, these planets must have Star Maps hidden as well, it's the only explanation!"
"I was thinking that too... why else would they be on the map? We should tell the Council about this immediately." Logan didn't argue, the Jedi turned and began to head towards the exit, soon they would be back at the enclave
A/N The editing is taking longer than expected. Hopefully people find the revised chapters a more enjoyable read.