Part I

Reemergence

Chapter 6

Political Animals

"Don't get cute with me…" – Bastila Shan

It had been three years since the loyal smuggler vessel had been disposed of. Following the defeat of the Kraxis Rebellion, Yuthura Ban had taken it back to the Republic and left it in the capable hands of T3-M4, left to glide unnoticed across the galaxy. Without the proper tools to repair HK-47, it had been shut down and locked away inside the ship – the Ebon Hawk.

Unbeknownst to Revan, T3-M4 had an assignment should it ever find itself back in the galaxy with Revan unable to return home. Thanks to Bastila Shan's secret programming, the droid was to seek her out, and if it could not find her, then to find other Jedi. A seemingly impossible task for a droid and no matter how hard it tried, Bastila could not be found.

But only now did it actually achieve some marginal success. T3-M4 had the ship gliding through empty space and the one other individual was the closest thing to a Jedi it could have found. An old woman, conservatively dressed and her physically blind eyes covered by her hood. She spoke nary a word to the machine but moved with a purpose and T3-M4 had seen enough Force users to know how to spot one.

Kreia sat in the port dormitory of the ship, away from the distracting noise of the engine and kept to herself, her presence so quiet, even T3-M4 wouldn't be able to hear her unless it tried. The Ebon Hawk continued to make its way through the galaxy, just as it had before.

The warning shot flared green over the screen of the cockpit that got the astromech droid's attention immediately. Three more followed, and the message was clear – slow down and let the more heavily armed warship board it, steal your cargo, rape your women, and laugh at you're helplessness. Analysis confirmed that theory for T3-M4. It was a Sith warship that was trailing them, coming out of nowhere and hailing no signal or immediate tractor beam.

With a full minute of no response, the next few shots came straight to the hull, bounced away by the deflector shields that were put up just in time. The droid had the ship accelerated and checked again to make sure that the navicomputer was safe. It was.

The Ebon Hawk was fast but without a more complete crew it was a sitting duck compared to the warship in pursuit. But a glimmer of hope appeared and T3-M4 acted upon it. A green dot, distant but close enough to appear on the edge of the radar.

Upon reflex, the distress signal was launched.

In his private chambers on Coruscant…

"Authenticity code required," the annoying feminine machine told him. Liam Arcturus punched in the numbers and waited impatiently until he had the attention of the shadowy figure of the boss whose name he still didn't know.

"How can I help you, Senator?" the scrambled voice demanded.

"I trust you've seen the recent headlines," Arcturus sounded annoyed and his boss knew exactly why.

"I did…a rather ugly pot you stirred up."

"Don't put that on me," Arcturus barked. "You wanted me to reach out a bipartisan hand to Kerrigan and that's exactly what I did. Knowing the woman, I had my reservations but you believed that she would be energetic about being part of a process in the Oversight Committee about a bill that would crack down on corruption. Instead she balked at the notion and pulled out all the stops on her sharp tongue. Being in the minority is hard enough to do without some whelp in the majority making an ass out of me."

"You certainly didn't help yourself when you stooped to her level. Why are you making such a fuss? Your ratings haven't dropped; most of your constituents think Kerrigan is just a hack with nice curves."

Arcturus was getting more and more irritated by the condescension. "I don't like having her as an enemy."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I'm an inch away from telling you and your little shadow operation to go to hell. And because my name is not officially tied to any of it, I can even have you investigated if I wish."

"With the help of an extremely enthusiastic majority that is more than willing to heighten investigations within the government they control, right?" Arcturus wasn't sure if his boss was mocking him but his anger didn't let up.

"You're missing the point," he said. "If yet another fight in the political headlines was what you wanted, then you got it, but I don't appreciate the deception especially to me. You know I can start a fight and fight one."

"No deception intended Senator. I trusted you to do what you had to do and you did."

"Trust me enough to tell me your name?" The silent reply gave Arcturus his answer. "Didn't think so."

"There is much work ahead of us. Your latest earmark set did the trick and we're getting some good results but we have more work to be done. I know it seems like trivial duties to you but believe me, it's better that way." His boss disconnected and Arcturus sighed in disappointment.

What he had no idea of was that several kilometers away, Senator Kerrigan was having a very similar conversation with this very same unknown individual that had such a gentle yet terrifying tone of voice.

Meanwhile…

With the ID signature Jace was able to forge to match the Wingless Angel, Dustil was able to find and contact the military headquarters with relative ease.

"No I don't have a landing permit; my name is Dustil Onasi and I'm trying to reach…"

"We have a strict new policy involving newcomers. I just need to know by your word that you are willing and able to purchase a Republic landing permit for this area. Our fares are reasonable but…"

"But I've been here before!" Dustil protested even though he knew it was of no use.

A few more minutes of argument got Dustil to eventually just give in and promise to buy a permit. Not the best way to begin his trip back to the galaxy but what the hell? He was back and eager to see his father.

Bastila was in her office taking a short break from work with some meditation. She had been doing this for quite some time now but her job dictated that she could get interrupted at any time, which is exactly what happened.

She answered her comm. the usual way. "Yes?"

"Excuse me, Miss Shan…"

"Shaila, how many times do I have to tell you? Please call me Bastila."

"Sorry…" the receptionist had her usual cute nervous voice as she was still young and new. "Excuse me Bastila, I'm unable to reach the Admiral. Word came to me that he has a visitor just arriving…another Onasi?"

Bastila did a double take. She paused for a moment until she had to confirm that she was still there. "Is his name Dustil…by any chance?"

"Umm, let me check…yes. That's the name he had. He's just landing now. Is the Admiral in his office?"

Bastila was shuffling quickly through her papers to try and find the schedule, which determined that Carth had a meeting that was just ending at the moment. But her thoughts were racing even faster than she was shuffling. What she was going to ask next, the receptionist wouldn't understand but if Bastila's hunch was correct, it was a favor she would absolutely have to ask.

"Shaila…I need a favor. Who else have you told about this?"

"No one yet."

"I need you to keep it that way. If Carth calls and asks my whereabouts, I need you to cover for me."

"But…why?"

"Just trust me," said Bastila. "For now, just make sure Carth doesn't know that his son is here."

Shaila wanted to protest but Bastila knew she wouldn't as soon as she hung up and bolted from her office. She didn't even care to ask where Dustil had landed. The Force gave her a good enough prediction.

Dustil walked off the Wingless Angel to find a protocol droid with the papers he needed to fill out and sign. He had to smile – it was the first time he had seen a Republic protocol droid in forever. So many things looking around he only now realized that he missed in the past few years. It took him a few minutes to finish and then he inquired as to the whereabouts of his father. Intel about the whereabouts of the Admiral was mid level classified so instead they pointed him in the direction of Carth's office.

The soldier guided him to the monorail station and Dustil waited a while for the train to come, which Bastila was on. As the train came to a stop, Bastila was about to get off, but she saw a figure with hair long enough to look like a woman but she knew it was a man from his more brawly and masculine body structure and he was dressed enough like a casual Jedi to garner her attention. He boarded the train, and Bastila moved quietly towards him, keeping him only in her peripheral sights.

But as hard as she tried, she couldn't get a reading from him. She glanced back in his direction but then turned full front when she didn't see him there. She threw her head all around the train trying to spot him until she felt a tap on her shoulder. There was Dustil Onasi standing right behind her.

"I didn't expect to find a Jedi here," he said with a smirk.

"Dustil Onasi," said Bastila. "You don't know me but…"

"I know who you are. But I have to say, I hardly recognized you without that yellow-brown outfit Revan told me about."

The straight-forwardness of Dustil caught Bastila way off guard. She had been planning to get him and seize control immediately because when it came to Carth, which she figured Dustil was there to find, she had the upper hand in knowledge. But Dustil's last comments sparked her interest even further and now she really needed a private meeting with him, and away from Carth.

The reasons seemed very basic, but Bastila understood them a lot more than probably any Jedi would have. Admiral Onasi was a political animal. That might appear irrelevant but there was more to it than that. Carth was never happy to become more and more politically involved but it was a responsibility that had come with the rank of Admiral, the rank in which he would really be able to make positive changes in the Republic's military strength. Carth hadn't forgotten why he needed to do it; he hadn't forgotten what Revan told him. Sometimes it felt like the only thing that would keep him going – the only thing that would keep him from becoming worse than the corrupt politicians in the Senate.

But now Carth was a political animal and the political hawks would be watching him. Politicians had always pissed him off, no matter what side of the political spectrum they belonged to. Dodonna had made him understand this and he knew that with the Liberal Party in charge, there were going to be certain politicians that would make even that pompous ass Conservative Siv Tarkin look noble. The bureaucratic machine was of the hacks, by the hacks, and worst of all for the hacks.

Bureaucracy was a fascinating thing but Carth found none of it appealing because as far as he was concerned it was just a big cluster of competing and conflicting interests and financial powers all getting in each other's way and hindering real progress. The military arm of the Republic was not very strong and for the last five years, the budget had been getting axed slowly but surely. The military was always something that hacks could go to town on, calling in hearings whenever they wished and tearing the high command a new one as they saw fit. Anything could be used – bleeding hearts were notorious for spinning things a certain way in order to label them as atrocities and look for an excuse to cut that part of the budget even further. The bureaucratic structure was their way of putting their so-called "progressive" attitudes into action for whatever naive sense of self-righteousness they had. Their hearts were often in the right place but the result of what they did made Carth's job even more difficult and if there was any real reason that the Republic military was getting weaker, it was because of that.

Since the tension of his hearings they were eyeing him. They were hacks with the eyes and claws of hawks and Dustil's sudden appearance becoming public was certain to be a political liability. Bastila was the one person in the entire galaxy who knew all of this and understood all of this perfectly.

"Now comes the long lost son of Admiral Onasi," said Bastila, after leading him to the dark corner of the cantina and stealing two stools from the bar. "You need to understand, your father is under incredible stress. He's a Rear Admiral Lower Half with the responsibilities of a Grade 1 Fleet Admiral."

"And they don't promote him to that rank because…?"

"It's not in the budget to give him or any of us a raise."

"Sheesh, he keeps this up, by the time he gets to that rank, he'll have the responsibilities of a Supreme Chancellor," Dustil joked, still clearly not understanding what Bastila was trying to tell him.

"The point is, Dustil…I can't let you see him."

"I'm not looking to stay with him or anything like that; I just want to say hi and tell him that I'm doing well for myself."

"If he sees you, he won't let you leave until you give him answers."

"What do I have to answer for?"

"Oh, I don't know… how about the fact that very few of us even know you exist! Carth cannot afford to be made into an even bigger celebrity than he already is now. It's just not politically plausible!"

"Revan told me you were stubborn…" That last comment made her tense a bit. Bastila tried giving Dustil a curious but innocent look but it wasn't fooling him. "I suppose that if I tried any harder to see him, you'd draw your lightsaber on me, right?"

Bastila didn't know how to answer that. While she certainly didn't want to start a fight, her job being what it was and all, she simply couldn't let him through despite her compassion. It was a forced compassion at best. Bastila wasn't much of a family girl. Dustil wanted to see his father and it had been a long time. If Carth was there, he'd want to see Dustil too, but Carth would do more because Carth would want and need answers. Even a whiff of it gets out and they would be dealing with the press and the political sharks. So little knowledge existed about Dustil, all sides would prove problematic. Even the conservative minority who all stood behind Carth would have to turn the cheek and enough investigations would be launched to uncover the real problem with Dustil's past. They didn't actually care for Carth; they just wanted to show others that they cared about the military and were looking out for its best interests. Carth was a hero.

The hearing for Carth's promotion had been hard enough; but if politicians knew that Carth had an orphan son who was a Sith? Dustil Onasi – the brash young bastard child of Carth Onasi, abandoned by his father and left to die on Telos when Malak destroyed it, and then a top student of the Korriban Academy for years, now resurfaced after a rigorous cover-up to hide his identity had taken place. This would be how the story would come out.

This would explode a hidden powder keg that had no buildup. Politicians would be running for cover and distancing themselves from Onasi. Dodonna would have no choice but to fire Carth; his reputation would be tarnished and the entire galaxy would have a whole new way to see their Admiral celebrity.

Bastila had tried her best to explain this to him but it wasn't working. All she could do was change the subject. "What else…" she hesitated. "…did Revan tell you?"

Now Dustil wasn't so sure as to whether or not he should trust her. Revan had told him that he could, but Bastila clearly didn't like the fact that he just showed up and she was really getting in his way. He still wasn't even sure why she was trying so hard to get answers. What could she possibly want?

"He told me that you two are connected through the Force. He told me that you're the best Jedi he's ever known and that your battle meditation won the war."

"You're lying…"

Dustil smirked. "So I am. What's your point?"

"Don't get cute with me," sneered Bastila, seizing control again. "If you want even a prayer of being able to talk to your father, I'm your best hope. But you need to throw me a bone here. Now please…for the umpteenth time: what is your business here?"

Dustil looked around to make sure no one was watching and then leaned forward. "This information doesn't go anywhere, is that understood?" Bastila nodded. "It's solely because Revan trusts you…that I'm coming to you with this. I came here to see Carth and then look for you, as I intend to look for every other Jedi that survived."

Bastila hesitated to ask the question she really wanted to ask and stuck to business. "What do you know about that?"

"I know that one week ago, a lot of Jedi were murdered at the exact same time. I haven't had a bigger nosebleed since I got shot and electro-fried by the Sith. I need to know who survived and I need to know where to find them." Dustil chose his words carefully but he knew that he was no match for Bastila's diplomacy.

"Who really needs to know?"

It took Dustil a few seconds to understand the real question she was asking. "I can't tell you much. I need to find the Jedi because I have a message for them. The True Sith are out there. Keep to your friends but stay alive; Revan will need you soon."

The Hammerhead class cruiser soared through space, its white, red, and yellow paint glistening in the blackness. It was large enough to hold about three hundred crewmen and three strike teams of soldiers for boarding, combat ready and fully efficient – the Harbinger was one of the proudest ships in the Republic fleet.

It had just come from Ryloth, the most transport accessible planet in the Outer Rim Territories where the Harbinger was sent to pick up a vital passenger with high diplomatic credentials. The Captain of the vessel had made it very clear to his commanding officer that he was not comfortable with turning the ship into a passenger boat but Admiral Onasi's orders were clear. Not only that, but he was not privy to the information that he was used to receiving about political diplomats he would have to carry. The file of this passenger was top secret extremely classified. No information about her had been made available, only her name, which meant nothing to him. The Captain didn't like it but he followed his orders by the letter. So long as he didn't have to waste too many precious resources on this new passenger, there wouldn't be a problem.

The Captain had to admit it – the passenger had a pretty face. Not that he was interested, merely a fact that everyone and anyone in the crew that saw the woman they were carrying would acknowledge. Passengers never stayed long and the soldiers were far too professional to try and mix business with pleasure in a job like this so they stayed out of her way, but of course that did not stop the wondering eyes.

The passenger was one of the quietest people they had ever seen. Normally diplomats made full use of their ship tours and asked countless questions about operations and made no efforts to conceal their status of political importance. This woman took the tour she was offered, more likely as just a way to stretch her legs and move, and then went back into her private chambers, coming out only to go to the mess hall, where she would sit and eat by herself in the corner.

Katara Fenix kicked her long socks off and slipped into her nightgown before going to bed. These days of travel were boring beyond belief but Fenix kept her mind on the destination – Telos. The truth of her silence was more personal than it was stubbornness. She didn't talk unless she had because the way she saw it, talking led to attachments. She couldn't force a permanent hostile personality on herself so the best method was to snub.

This particular so-called diplomat had many issues with attachment, much different from the usual love and loss without recovery. An action she had taken a decade ago that caused her to lose a bit of herself, and then she was cast aside by the people she turned to for help and understanding; exiled from the Jedi Order to wander the galaxy.

She lay in the bed she enjoyed being unfamiliar with. That was her life now; one transport to the next and one hotel room to the next. Raised and trained as a Jedi Sentinel, survival and stealth were her forte. Her travels were legal so she was not running from anything but even she found it strange that the Republic was so willing to transport her and went through all the trouble to keep her safe. The only thing that was troubling was that she didn't smell a trap.

"Attention all crew, this is your Captain speaking." Fenix's eyes snapped open and did a quick reflexive scan of the room before listening again. "We've received a distress signal from a nearby vessel – stealth smuggler class. We've got urgent permission to investigate so we will be diverting course. I want everyone alert and ready because the distress signal indicates that the ship is under attack by the Sith."

The Exile wanted to just go back to sleep and forget about it but the mentioning of the Sith seemed to touch a nerve. This would not be the first time that she came into intimate contact with the Sith; she had to duck and dodge them far too many times. Something wasn't right.

About a minute later the Exile realized something definitely wasn't right. The boiling blood in her veins hadn't stopped and her mental capacity was deteriorating. She started feeling butterflies in her stomach. Her heart was beating more and more rapidly and she felt tense. So tense, she had trouble standing.

Her mind raced. "I've been drugged!" As her consciousness began to slip, she tried to relax with a large breath of air. "Nothing wrong with the ventilation…must have been something I ate."

And that was when it hit her that she had made a mistake. Her meal patterns were predictable, far too predictable. Whoever drugged her must have known when to expect that she would be in the mess hall and even better, what she would be eating. Hunters were just that good. Launching an investigation at her condition wouldn't be possible. She gasped for air, clinging to her consciousness for as long as she could, but it was no use.

She dragged herself back to her bed, the temporary paralysis in her legs and limbs increasing more and more. With a final breath, she was out.

Dustil cursed to himself but Bastila heard it. "Alright fine," he finally said. "Let's say that I just agree with what you're saying even though I don't understand it. Can you at least let me contact my father over a secure channel?"

"No!" Bastila was much too stern for his liking. "There can be no communication between the two of you. However, I will keep you apprised of what he's up to. That's it." Dustil wanted to protest but Bastila cut him off. "I know you desire to see him but you have to understand that if you do seek him out, he won't let you go, at least not as easily as you seem to think. And then, whatever it is you're doing for Revan will be a moot point because Carth will have you under lock and key."

Dustil sighed "I'm still not sure I buy that he'll just imprison me without due process or whatever, but you know him better than I do so I'll go with it. But let me guess…for even this small sticking out of the neck, you need a favor."

Bastila rolled her eyes. "All I know is that I am alive and Juhani is alive. Where to find her, I don't know but I can contact her and give her the message. She will be interested in hearing it. But if you are serious about finding the Jedi, then go to the Jedi Temple. You will find it empty and barren. Raise the beacon but keep the programming to communication only. If Jedi see that they are being summoned, they will suspect a trap and will not take the bait. My guess is that a lot of Jedi still do not understand that the Sith are the ones hunting them. But you need to know that if the Sith show up at the temple, you are on your own."

"And then?"

"Wait to be contacted and then give the message, but you'll have to make the Jedi come to you because finding them by yourself is next to impossible."

"And what part of all this is doing you a favor?"

Bastila pulled out a computer chip. "I want to monitor the Jedi Temple's activity from where I am. Plant this in the security system and activate it. I will be notified when you do it."

Dustil took the chip and looked it over. He nodded in agreement.

"One final question," Bastila paused for a moment. "How is he?"

Dustil wanted to ask why she was asking, especially in the sincere tone that held a pitch of concern in it but he figured it would be best not to piss her off further and just answer the question. "Like I said in the message; he's alive and he'll need you soon."

By now they were back at the monorail station and the train was arriving. Dustil was ready to be on his way to get to the temple, no short journey. The train screeched to a halt and the doors slid open. Dustil stepped inside and before the doors closed Bastila said one final thing.

"I'm glad you were safe. Be careful." Dustil could hear underneath her words a sadness almost imperceptible. He paused for a moment on the tram almost wanting to go back and tell her more of what was going on. But he knew as well that the less she knew right now the better Revan wouldn't want him worrying her more than he had too. Without looking back, Dustil raised his hand and with a slight wave back to her, he vanished into the crowd.

Dustil departed to the Jedi Temple, still unaware of how barren it would actually look. He had only been there once long before and remembered how it was not teeming with life the way the mythology of the Jedi often illustrated it to be. Despite having not been able to see his father, he felt good. He had no reason to think that Bastila was toying with him and a favor like this wouldn't be so unreasonable, especially since the Temple would likely have some leads. Dustil was contemplating scenarios; the most worrisome thing he could think of was how much of a labyrinth the inner structure was. But it wasn't a time trial so he could probably wander the place and if it took him longer than a day, he'd even pitch a tent for all he cared.

If he could put the process in some kind of coherent order, he'd need to figure out what Jedi to look for first. If the Jedi were really as dead as they appeared to be, that most likely meant that the most senior of the masters perished in the attack or whatever it was that happened. From Revan's perspective on the Jedi, a truth that Dustil had less experience with, Jedi Knights were the more reliable people. While the Jedi were about as political as Tarisian rackgouls, they were no strangers to the bureaucratic messes that engulfed the Republic system and made up their own order too. Those who sought the more simplistic Jedi path – Knighthood and perhaps a Padawan or two to train were the ones who had a much more universal sense of the galaxy because instead of sitting on their pompous thrones to decide the future of the Jedi Order, they would be the change they wished to see in the galaxy. If that meant that they had to stick their nosy Jedi nose into a mess that needed solving, then so be it. Revan had never cared for the perception of Jedi the way others did because his beef was with the hierarchy. Class of Jedi did not matter, only the true open-mindedness of the Jedi and how he or she could use their knowledge of the Force to guard peace and justice in the galaxy.

Dustil remembered how much lecturing it took him to really understand Revan's perspective on the Jedi Order. Revan never wanted him to just accept it but this was one of those things that Dustil could not take anything but his master's word for. He harbored no contempt for the Jedi Order, just hatred for the complex power structure they had. A solution was not something Revan contemplated because he simply didn't care enough. The Jedi principles were an excellent foundation of understanding of the Force even if they only told one side of an extremely complicated story and most Jedi Knights were good people whose skills would have to be salvaged if the True Sith were to ultimately be defeated.

But one thing Dustil did not know was the impact Revan had had on Bastila. Talking with Bastila was just like talking to any other Jedi, only it was someone he trusted because of her connections. He did not realize just how isolated a Jedi she had really become because she had not let that on.

And lastly, he knew not of the bombshell impact his conversation with Bastila would have on her, that behind her poker face was an emotional tornado.

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- Gipper 40 & Sarge42