CHAPTER 9
Squinting, Revan shielded his eyes to protect them from the effect of harsh sunlight reflecting off the drab sand walls that every building in Anchorhead seemed to be constructed from. Anchorhead wasn't very large, but with every building in the settlement sharing the same appearance, drab and decrepit, finding what he was looking for was difficult. Finally spotting his destination across the sparsely-walked central square, he stepped into the rundown cantina. It took his eyes a moment to adjust from the blinding glare of the outdoors to the dimly lit environment of the cantina, but a woman sitting alone in a corner booth caught his eye.
Bastila had always been uncomfortable mentioning her life before the Jedi, even to him, but from the fiery blue eyes, it didn't take a strong affinity in the Force to see the family resemblance. Striding through the few clients of the nearly-empty cantina, he took a seat across from her.
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" the woman asked coldly.
"I apologize for my abrupt manner, but do you know Bastila? Bastila Shan?"
The woman stiffened at the mention of Bastila's name.
"Yes, my name is Helena, I am her mother. And who are you?"
Revan was beginning to understand where Bastila had learned the ice cold stare she fixed him with whenever she was displeased with him.
"I'm afraid I cannot provide a proper introduction. My name is of little significance but you may call me Qel, if you wish. Suffice to say I am a… friend of your daughter's."
The woman snorted.
"A friend. So you're a Jedi. What is it you want?"
Revan knew he was treading in dangerous territory and had to choose his words carefully.
"Something's been bothering your daughter almost since we landed on Tatooine. She seems… I have felt something different in her since… since she left this cantina. Something is hurting her."
"And what business is it of yours?"
"She means a lot to me. I care about her deeply."
The woman laughed bitterly.
"I didn't realize Jedi were allowed to have such 'feelings'."
"I never said I was a Jedi," he said quietly, trying to hold in his contempt as he said the word 'Jedi'.
"Please, I'd like to help."
He was met with a tired sigh.
"You're not going to leave until I tell you something, are you? Very well, what has she told you of me?"
"Nothing. Her life before the Jedi was something she never felt comfortable sharing with me."
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. How do you expect to 'help' when you know nothing?"
Revan clasped his hands together on the table.
"Please, Ms. Shan, seeing her like this is tearing me up from within. Can you tell me a little? Perhaps I can speak to her on your behalf."
The woman's hard features softened.
"I guess it would do no harm. Very well, if you wish to waste your time. My husband and I are… were, from Talravin. I grew up with him from childhood, we were sweethearts as teenagers, a little younger than Bastila is now. We got married when I was just seventeen. Bastila came a year later…"
She paused, a wistful look coming to her eyes.
"We loved her more than anything else in the universe… she was an only child, after her I couldn't bear any more children… but life was hard. The economy went from bad to worse and my husband, who started out as a farmer, bought a ship with all our savings and decided to seek his fortune as a treasure hunter. As you can imagine, it wasn't an easy life."
"I can imagine," Revan said sympathetically, gesturing for her to continue.
"Going from planet to planet, chasing one false lead after another… my husband lived for it but credits were hard to come by. I spent almost every night awaiting his return, always hoping for the best but fearing the worst. Bastila… she loved him so and he adored her. She always wanted to go with him but I never let her. She had a bond with her father that I never developed. Even as just a young child, she argued with me constantly… it broke my heart but I fought back… my quick temper destroyed our relationship…"
Tears formed in the woman's eyes, streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto the table. Revan put a comforting hand over hers.
"I'm sorry, this must be difficult…"
"If you only knew… the regrets, the pain I feel knowing what could have been… in any case, I knew life wasn't going to get any better. Bastila was almost five and I could already see her potential. She was very intelligent and there was always something different about her…"
"Yes, the Force is strong with her," Revan agreed.
"I wasn't sure at the time, but on one occasion, when my husband set out on a minor expedition, he left us on Talravin. A small party of Jedi happened to be passing through our system and I realized this might be my chance to provide my daughter with a future. I should have waited for my husband's return, but at the time, I was so worried the Jedi would pass by and leave I wasn't able to properly think through my actions. I took Bastila to them and they told me she was Force sensitive. They wanted to take her for training. I asked them to wait, to come back for her after I could discuss the matter with my husband but they told me this was best. I believed them and let her go. She hardly got to say goodbye to her father. She's never forgiven me."
Revan nodded slowly, beginning to understand Bastila's pain.
"My husband was heartbroken when he returned to discover the Jedi taking away his only child, but he understood my reasoning. Bastila never did. She always thought I was trying to get rid of her. All these years, we never saw her again. She must as well have been dead. We never received so much as a letter, a picture from her."
The woman dried her eyes as Revan leaned back in his chair.
"I doubt it was by her choice. The Jedi frown upon contact with family members after a child is removed. They are quite adamant in this policy."
The woman shook her head.
"And all these years I thought it stemmed from her resentment of me… Why would the Jedi do this?"
A hard look came to Revan's dark brown eyes and he had to fight the anger welling up within him.
"They believe strong emotions can lead a Jedi, especially a young one, to the dark side. Relationships with family members are rife with powerful emotions. According to the Jedi, these feelings are to be avoided. Your daughter is one of the most driven individuals I have ever met. Her devotion to the Jedi Order is unlike that of any other. Even had she wanted to contact you, her unwavering loyalty to the tenets of the Jedi Order would have prevented her from doing so."
"And what do you believe? Don't you long to see your family? Your mother perhaps?"
He sighed, closing his eyes.
"My family is dead. I'm an orphan. My mother… But you asked me what I believe? I never understood this policy of the Jedi. To destroy the bonds of family… every Jedi becomes an orphan upon joining the Order, leaving their past life behind. There is logic behind this but to lose all emotion… I'm sorry, I am rambling, please, you were telling me about Bastila's departure to join the Jedi…"
"After Bastila left, life continued as before. Our world was so much less cheerful with her gone, every day… darker, but we had to move on. My husband continued his treasure hunting. We came here to Tatooine so he could join an expedition in search of krayt dragon pearls."
Revan shook his head in disbelief.
"Krayt dragons rank among the most fearsome predators in the galaxy. Any hunter who embarks on a hunt and is 'fortunate' enough to find one, is just as likely to become the 'hunted'. Whatever would compel your husband to deliberately join a hunt for one?" he asked, trying to avoid sound like he was lecturing. The woman looked at him sadly.
"The pearls are worth a fortune. I begged him not to go, but he was stubborn… Bastila got it from him. We needed the money for my treatments."
"Your treatments?"
"I'm dying. None of the doctors know what's wrong. I've been wasting away slowly over the years. My husband spent every last credit scouring the galaxy for a cure but he was unsuccessful. All he could do was make me comfortable. When we ran out of credits, that's when he decided to go after the pearls…"
Her voice began to break up.
"He… he… he never came back… they found a bull dragon somewhere in the Dune Sea… the entire party was killed, all but a single guide. He came back to tell me he'd seen my husband torn apart before his very eyes… I've been stranded here ever since. When I saw Bastila enter the cantina, I was overjoyed. But when I told her of her father's death, she became distraught and began to blame me. I tried to explain my situation to her but she wouldn't listen. It was when I asked her to recover my husband's holocron that she stormed off…"
"Your husband's holocron…?"
"He stored all his thoughts on it, dating back to when Bastila was born. Having it would be like having him with you…"
Revan looked past her, out the window into the dusty street, as if he could just reach out with the Force and snatch it from thin air.
"I see… it may be difficult to find, this holocron."
"I know, but I thought perhaps a Jedi…"
He turned his gaze back to her, the hint of a smile on his face.
"If it is still out there, I will find it."
"My husband's party was last seen heading to the east. But please, Bastila mentioned she was on a mission from the Jedi Council. I don't want this search interfering in any way with my daughter's quest."
Revan nodded before calling the bartender over.
"Barkeep, this should cover anything on this woman's tab as well as anything she might order later. Provide her your best room and there will be more in this for you later."
Pressing a five hundred credit chip in the surprised bartender's hand he got up to leave.
"I must be leaving for now but I will return. Until then, leave your worries to me. I will sort this out."
Canderous scanned the desert with a set of electrobinoculars. He frowned as they swept over a small settlement.
"Sand People. I'd forgotten they were even still around," he muttered to himself, recalling a few small skirmishes in the Mandalorian Wars on this world. Tatooine was a backwater, not even sitting anywhere near any important hyperspace routes but the Mandalorian Wars had been largely fought on hundreds of worlds like this. He remembered his patrol coming across the remains of a Republic convoy ambushed by the savages, a discovery so gristly even the hardened Mandalorians had clucked their tongues in disbelief.
"This could throw a hydrospanner into things."
Climbing back onto his swoop bike, he turned and headed back towards Anchorhead.
Bastila was waiting for him when Revan returned from the cantina.
"Back from your errand?" she asked him icily. Revan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him ferociously.
"You know exactly what I mean!"
Before Revan could respond, she turned and stalked back into the Ebon Hawk.
"Bastila wait!"
"I've seen that look before. My wife used to give it to me all the time. When a woman looks at you like that, it can mean only one thing: You're in trouble, my friend, deep trouble," Carth commented from his position on top of the Ebon Hawk's dorsal turret, straddling the guns.
"Hey Zaalbar, buddy, toss me the number seven hydrospanner, the little one."
Revan sighed.
Maybe seeing her mother without her was unwise.
The deep-throated growl of a swoop engine shook him out of his thoughts. Seemingly from nowhere, Canderous screeched to a stop in front of him, showering sand all over the side of the Ebon Hawk.
"And I just washed it," Carth groaned. Canderous chuckled.
"Suck it up, flyboy!"
Deciding to change the topic before Carth could get in a return shot, Revan nodded towards several dents in Canderous' swoop bike.
"I take it your scouting mission was a success?"
"A success?! I was chased all the way back to Anchorhead by a bunch of gaffi-waving Sand People! Those are bullet holes!"
It was Carth's turn to laugh.
"In my experience, any reconnaissance mission you return from alive and in one piece is a successful mission… even if you did have to run from a band of primitive savages like a massiff with a tail between its legs," he snickered. As Canderous fixed Carth with a murderous stare, Revan frowned.
"Sand People? Where did you encounter them?"
Canderous shrugged.
"About two hundred kilometers north of Anchorhead. I took a note of the location of their encampment. They could prove dangerous should we have to venture into the desert again to find your Star Map. Hey where are you going?"
Revan was heading for Canderous' swoop.
"To find the Sand People. Their knowledge of the local terrain could be invaluable."
Carth shook his head in disbelief.
"You're insane. I don't care if you're a Jedi, you have no way of communicating with them, even if they did let you get within fifty kilometers of their camp alive. Besides, I think you should go see Bastila."
Revan sighed. Carth was right, but he was dreading the idea of facing her. Turning reluctantly from the swoop, he disappeared into the ship. As soon as Revan was out of earshot, Canderous howled in laughter.
"What's this? The Republic pilot giving a Jedi relationship advice?"
Carth shrugged.
"He's not like any Jedi I've ever met. The Jedi don't normally take twenty-something-year-olds for training you know. He knows how to get a girl's attention, but there's a lot more to understanding the fairer sex than simply being able to seduce and charm them. What do you care, anyways? Love has no meaning to you. Mandalorians pay little attention to anything except battle!"
Canderous was about to rip Carth back but stopped.
"That may be true of some of us, Flyboy. But how do you think I got here? You think there's a Mandalorian Warriors R Us Inc. pushing us off assembly lines somewhere?"
Zaalbar barked in laughter.
"The thought had crossed my mind," the Wookiee said lightheartedly, but unable to understand, Canderous ignored him.
"Yeah, so what do you think love is?" Carth challenged.
"Love is a woman who knows how to cook and clean and obey orders from her man! A woman's role is to serve her husband and provide him heirs to carry on his bloodline, thus preserving the family honor!" the Mandalorian said without hesitation.
"You're lucky Bastila wasn't out here to hear that."
"I do not fear the wrath of a woman!"
Carth shook his head.
"I wonder how long it's been since you went on a date?" he muttered under his breath, returning to his work.
Revan felt uneasy as he stood outside the closed door into Bastila's chambers. He had fought in countless battles, seen more men slain before his eyes than most soldiers would see in a lifetime, and escaped death more times than he cared to remember. It had been said of him that his courage bordered on the inhuman, like he had the iron will of a droid, completely unshakeable. But right now, he felt like an entire flock of aiwhas were flying around in his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the closed door.
"Bastila, can I come in?"
"I do not wish to see you at the moment," she answered, her voice slightly muffled through the durasteel door. Revan turned to leave but thought better of it. He opened the door and took a few steps, then stopped just inside the doorway. Bastila was sitting on her bunk, cross legged, eyes closed in meditation.
"You went to see my mother," she said simply, not even bothering to open her eyes to look at him, "After I asked you not to involve yourself in my personal affairs."
"Bastila I…"
She finally opened her eyes and fixed them on him, her livid stare so intense he imagined he could feel her burning two holes into his chest. The angry expression cast over her pretty face was like dark clouds gathering in the sky, a portent of the coming storm.
"I thought I made this clear. We're friends, Revan, but that does not give you the right to barge into my life like it is your own! Friends respect each other's privacy. When we first discussed this bond and the possible impact it could have on our relationship, we agreed we would only use it as necessary, the only exceptions being if either one of us was in danger! I felt your presence within my mind. You violated our trust!"
Revan tried to get in a word in his own defense.
"But I…"
"But you what? You thought I wouldn't notice? That as I am 'just a Padawan', you can treat me as you please? Do you think I'm some sort of a fool, a pretty, air headed ditz who needs you to look after her all the time? A porcelain doll for you to play with?"
"I was justified in what I did! This business with your mother could have a detrimental effect on you not just emotionally, but psychologically as well. Your inability to act rationally could put not only you, but this mission and everyone on this quest in jeopardy! Furthermore, your behavior has confirmed something I knew all along," Revan retorted angrily.
"Oh, and what would that be?" she asked him, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"That you're still just a little girl who needs big brother to protect her. You clearly do not have the maturity to take care of yourself, despite the image you try and project!"
As soon as the words had left his lips, he immediately wanted to take them back. Bastila was furious. Rising to her feet, she walked right up to him and slapped him.
"How dare you! I neither asked for a protector nor do I want one! This discussion is over! You should leave!"
Rubbing his cheek where she had struck him, Revan glowered back at her.
"Perhaps when I return you will have developed some semblance of maturity so we can have a civil discussion."
Revan put his head in his hands, leaning against the bulkhead right outside Bastila's room.
Why was I so stupid? Why did you go and put your foot in your mouth? She needs you to love her right now, now insult her! She'll never forgive me for this…
Shaking his head at himself for the hundredth time since leaving her, he turned for the loading ramp. He needed something to take his mind off things and calm down before he blew up at her again.
"You don't look so good, what happened in there? We heard shouting," Carth said as Revan emerged from the Hawk. Revan bit his lip.
"I don't want to talk about this right now. Canderous, I need to borrow your swoop."
Canderous shot Carth a what-the-hell-is-going-on look before turning back to Revan.
"Sure, go ahead, but the Sand People shot it up pretty good. You'll need to fix it up before you take it out."
Revan sighed.
"Very well, I'll take it into town and see if I can find a shop."
Bastila sat on her bunk, a tear rolling down her cheek as she stared after Revan.
He was only trying to help and I lectured him like a child and hurt him. He's right. I am just a child. I'm still just a scared little girl, looking for someone to protect her. And I drove away the only one who could give me what I needed.
She finally looked away from the empty doorway where he'd disappeared. She needed something to distract her, to help her regain her composure so she could at least function.
I am a Jedi! I need to have control! Meditation, that's what I need. I need to center myself. I will find comfort in the Force.
Crossing her legs and closing her eyes, she tried to empty her mind of all distractions so she could focus. It wasn't working.
Father is dead and Revan hates me. I'm alone. I don't want to be alone!
Sighing in frustration at the hurt she felt and her inability to wish it away, she opened her eyes and picked up the small holoimage she'd slept with, clutched to her chest, for as long as she could remember. An adorable little girl with big, blue eyes stared back at her, smiling shyly. A handsome, rugged-looking man with broad shoulders and burly arms held her in his arms, beaming as he looked at his little girl.
The little girl cried tears of longing, fear, and frustration as the Jedi led her to the shuttle. She looked back at her daddy and saw he was crying as well as he waved to her. Tearing her hand away from the Jedi, she ran back to her father and threw her arms around him.
"I don't want to go Daddy! I want to stay here with you!"
Her father scooped her up in his arms and kissed her on the top of her head.
"I… I know baby, but… but your mother and I have decided… have decided this is best for you. You are gifted beyond anything I could ever imagine. You can feel the Force, you can become a Jedi and help people. Wouldn't you like that?"
The tiny girl shook her head and buried her face in her father's shoulder.
"Oh my little girl, I love you so much… I… I just want you to be happy," he took her tiny head in his huge hands and looked into her eyes, "Go with the Jedi. Everything will be all right. Make me proud baby girl. Daddy will see you again."
The five-year-old, barely coming up to her father's waist, looked up and reluctantly let go of her father as the Jedi gave her a kind smile. As soon as they were on the shuttle, she ran to the window. Her father waved as the shuttle took off. Bastila could only press her hands to the glass and cry.
It seemed so long ago and yet at the same time… it felt like it had been just yesterday. Thinking of her father again stirred up emotions that made her uncomfortable. It had been so long since she had thought of him and she felt guilty. Guilty she had left. Guilty she had never written. Guilty she had never gone back to visit. And guilty she hadn't been there to say one last goodbye, to show him how much his little girl had grown. He would have been so proud, his daughter, a Jedi of such promise. He would have met Revan. Father would have loved Revan...
She put away the holoimage. It was too difficult thinking of what might have been.
Revan strode into a small scrap shop, looking for parts. The sand storm had kicked up again, forcing the populace back indoors. The damage to Canderous' swoop had been far more extensive than he had first believed. He would practically have to strip the machine down to its frame and rebuild it. A part of him wondered if it might not just be simpler – and cheaper – just to buy a new one.
Canderous would kill me.
Shaking his head, Revan looked out at the battered swoop. It was an older model, but had obviously been well taken care of. Over the years, Canderous had upgraded most of its major components many times, making its performance at least equal to that of far more modern bikes. Or its performance had been equal until the Mandalorian's encounter with ambushing Sand People left a few extra kilograms of lead slugs adorning its frame.
"A customer? What an incredible stroke of luck… I mean, welcome, welcome, please come in. I am Yuka Laka," the Ithorian shopkeeper greeted him, "How may I assist you?"
Revan pulled a datapad from his jacket and handed it to the shopkeeper, looking over the mountains of junk in wonder.
"I need repair parts for a swoop bike. It's an older model."
How am I supposed to find anything in here?
As the Ithorian copied down his order and began digging through a scrap heap, Revan looked around casually. As his eyes went over the droid section however, something caught his attention. It looked like a protocol droid, with its long limbs and humanoid features. But the sinister faceplate had a menacing look to it, the droid's 'mouth' curled in almost a taunting smirk. Something stirred in Revan's damaged memory although he wasn't sure why.
"How much is that droid?"
"You have an eye for fine things, dear customer. It's a protocol droid, top of the line. Designation HK-47, says it was produced by a Systech Corporation. Stubborn thing, won't tell me much else but of excellent manufacture. I can't let it go for less than five thousand credits."
Revan feigned disbelief.
"Five thousand credits! It's just a droid for crying out loud!"
"Four thousand."
Revan shook his head.
"You said it was stubborn. It could prove troublesome. And look at its casing, all the dents… how did you get this thing? Did the Jawas scrap it and then give you the frame? I'm not interested."
"I assure you, it's of very fine construction, fluent in almost every dialect of every language you can imagine. It even claims to be able to understand the language of the Sand People! In addition, it looks like its seen combat a few times. A protocol droid and a bodyguard! A most useful combination if you ask me!" the Ithorian said quickly. Revan shrugged indifferently.
"I didn't ask you. But if you might be willing to lower the price a little… I might consider it. How does two thousand sound?"
The droid really wasn't much to look at. It was missing several components that Revan knew would take him considerable time and money to replace. Even so, there was definitely something about this droid that intrigued him.
"Twenty five hundred credits! I can't go any lower, I swear."
Revan pretended to mull the figure over in his head for a moment before shaking the shopkeeper's hand.
"It's a deal. I'll take him with me now."
Revan's lightsaber slashed across the throat of a charging Sand People warrior, dropping him right in his tracks.
Damn that droid! I would have been better off translating for myself!
All had been going well. Using the Force to infiltrate the settlement, Revan had taken his newly purchased protocol droid with him. With a strangely eccentric personality and a bloodthirsty streak that seemed odd for a protocol model, he had watched the droid closely when he used it to communicate with the Sand People chieftain. Even in the Mandalorian Wars he had always sought to keep the bloodshed and casualties – for both sides – to a minimum. When he'd proposed a trade of much-needed moisture vaporators in exchange for a reduction in the frequency of the Sand People attacks and the release of Mission's brother, the chieftain had agreed. After going to the trouble of trekking back to Anchorhead and acquiring the pricey equipment, he'd even managed to acquire the chieftain's distinctive gaffii stick, a traditional weapon of the Sand People, as a symbol of their agreement to show the Czerka rep.
When he'd inquired about the Star Map, hoping the indigenous Sand People might have seen something, the chieftain had told him, yes, his people had stumbled upon something that matched its description. When Revan had pressed the chieftain for more information, he was met with what HK-47 interpreted as a laugh. The Star Map was at the back of a krayt dragon's cave. That was when things had gone completely wrong. The chieftain said something the droid misinterpreted as a threat. Out of nowhere and with barely any warning, HK-47 had pulled a flamethrower out and doused the tribesman in incendiary liquid, turning him into a living torch.
"What did he say?" Revan demanded, furious as he cut down the last remaining member of the tribe. The settlement, once bustling with activity and home to perhaps one to two hundred inhabitants was completely silent, the Sand People wiped out either by Revan's blade or the bottomless arsenal HK-47 had hidden under his plating.
"Explanation: The worthless meatbag said something to the effect of: 'You are welcome to sacrifice yourself to the beast (referring to this krayt dragon he spoke of, of course)'. I interpreted this to be a threat against your person, Master, and understandably took preemptive action to preserve your well-being."
Revan shook his head.
"Your 'preemptive action' resulted in a massacre!"
"Protesting Clarification: But Master, you did agree to stop the Sand People attacks did you not? Was this not the most efficient method? And did you not obtain the precise coordinates as to the location of this 'Star Map' device you seek? As the meatbag saying goes: You cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs, yes?"
Revan sighed.
"We should go before any of the other Sand People tribes come looking for trouble. From now on, you only discharge weapons when I order you to or in self defense, understand?"
The droid's crimson eyes seemed to dull slightly.
"Weary Resignation: Although it pains me and it goes against my core programming, I will comply. Termination of organic meatbags will only commence with the Master's consent."
Revan eyed the droid warily but decided to believe what it said for the moment. Droids normally weren't programmed to lie but with this one…
"Where did you pull that flamethrower from anyways? I thought you were a protocol droid."
"Explanation: Translation is included in my programming and I do make a fine protocol droid. However, in addition to these more mundane functions, I am also highly proficient in personal combat. As well, I retain the ability of eliminating a very… specific type of target."
If Revan didn't know better, he would have sworn the droid was winking at him.
"Eliminating a very specific type of target? So you're an assassin droid. I should have known."
"Objection: Possession of an assassin droid is illegal in ninety-eight percent of systems in this galaxy, Master. Ownership alone is often cause for long terms of imprisonment… or worse! Not to mention the horrors that await the droid! * Gulp *. Therefore, I make no claim to that designation, Master. I am a law-abiding droid. Yes indeed, law-abiding, that's me."
"A law-abiding protocol droid with a hidden flamethrower that seems to have a soft spot for killing things," Revan muttered.
"Query: I apologize, Master. I did not hear your last comment clearly."
Revan took the rough map the chieftain had given him and folded it before putting it in a pouch on his belt.
"Just follow me and try to restrain your homicidal tendencies to a bare minimum, if that's not too difficult."
"Canderous, can you hand me that converter? No, the one beside you, on your right… wait… no, the other right!"
There was a crashing sound and a howl of pain as the converter assembly dropped on Zaalbar's foot.
"Well maybe if you'd been more careful that wouldn't have happened you walking carpet!"
A mighty roar sounded as the Wookiee rose to his full height.
"Hey, cut it out down there! Oh damn, watch out for my ladder…"
Carth went tumbling from his perch, falling on the two combatants, the laughing Mandalorian and the furious Wookiee.
"That's it! Now I'm mad! You two are about to see how a three-time Cross of Glory recipient gets things done!"
Mission, just returning to the Ebon Hawk from town, ducked a hydrospanner that flew past her head.
"Hey! What's going on…"
She ducked again as Zaalbar sent Canderous flying through the air with a vicious swat of his furry forearms. Growling, Canderous jumped back to his feet.
"A worthy adversary you make, Wookiee! But that still won't help you against the pride of Clan Ordo… Blue?! What in the…"
Mission glared at him.
"Good eyes, Mandalorian. You never noticed me before?"
Canderous wasn't looking at her. He was staring past her, out the loading ramp. A swoop bike with a pearlescent blue paint job screeched to a stop, spraying sand all over the Ebon Hawk. The brilliant finish was so bright Mission had to shield her eyes from the glare of the afternoon suns, reflecting off of it. Squinting, she could just barely make out a terrified-looking Twi'lek man with his arms wrapped around Qel's waist, his eyes closed.
"What did you do to my bike?! A bright blue paint job?! Are you out of your mind? Why didn't you just finish it with pink?!" Canderous shouted, storming right up to his baby. Revan shrugged.
"I would have, but there wasn't any."
He winked at Mission.
"I've got a visitor for you."
Mission could scarcely believe her eyes. It was like looking at a ghost.
"Griff? Griff! It is you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Revan's passenger.
"From how it looks, you would think it was her long lost brother or something," Canderous muttered. Revan's lips curled into a slight smile.
"That would be because it is."
He frowned as he heard the racket going on in the Ebon Hawk. Carth and Zaalbar had long forgotten the initial reason they had begun fighting and were now just pounding on each other, the Wookiee using his strength, Carth using his years of experience to avoid getting crushed. Walking over, Revan grabbed each combatant and pulled them apart.
"Come on, you two, I hate to stop your fun, but we've got work to do. I've found the Star Map."
"The Star Map lies in a cave in the Eastern Dune Sea."
"That sound easy enough. I'll fly the Hawk in, we'll pick it up, and we're done here," Carth said with a shrug.
"We should retrieve the Star Map and go. We have spent far too much time on this planet as is," Bastila added.
Revan, feeling irritated, shook his head.
"I'm sorry, my dear Lady Bastila, but things are not quite so simple. If they were, don't you think I would have retrieved the Star Map on my own, by now?" he said annoyed. He hadn't said anything blatantly insulting, but he regretted his words just the same.
"Well then, would you like to enlighten me as to why this retrieval should prove more difficult than it appears, Padawan?" Bastila hissed back, putting an emphasis on Padawan. Having become a Knight years ago, she knew Revan chafed at the Padawan label even more than she did. She winced as he stiffened at her insult.
I didn't mean that! It just slipped out!
Revan stared at her for a moment, then looked away and continued.
"This cave is also the lair of a krayt dragon. A very large one. A bull dragon, I was told. It could prove difficult to draw it out."
"Suggestion: A combination of plasma grenades and duel-phase charges, followed by a concentrated blaster barrage should prove adequate Master. You need only say the word, Master, and I would be willing to begin preparations immediately. This will be most enjoyable!"
"I will take your suggestion into consideration, HK," Revan said wearily, quickly tiring of the droid's bloodlust.
"What is that… thing?" Bastila asked disdainfully.
"Introduction: I am HK-47, protocol droid. I am fluent in over two million forms of communication. As well, I am highly proficient in personal combat should my Master's needs be more… practical."
Revan shook his head. The droid had offered him a similar introduction upon the removal of its restraining bolt. On closer inspection, what Revan thought to be simple metal skin covering the droid's frame was actually thick durasteel alloy, likely impervious to all but the heaviest of personal blaster weapons. By the way the droid spoke, he had had a feeling it was a lot more than what it claimed. He wished he had followed his gut instinct when he had purchased it.
"Well he certainly doesn't bear any resemblance to any protocol droid I have ever met."
"Statement: No one asked your opinion… meatbag."
Bastila's eyes went wide and she began to turn red at the droid's 'meatbag' comment.
"What did it say?!"
Revan grimaced as he imagined Bastila slicing his newly purchased droid into little pieces of scrapmetal with her lightsaber, or telekinetically blasting pure energy through its circuits until it overheated and melted down into a puddle of slag in the sand.
"His um… behavior core requires some… some uh, repairs."
"Repairs? That thing looks like it's ready for the trash heap!" Carth chortled. The way the droid's crimson eyes flickered when it spoke had an unsettling effect that caused him to subconsciously back away.
"Warning: One word from my master and I would gladly terminate your pitiful existence in the most painful manner my processing core can arrive at, meatbag! Please, Master, please? I would be forever indebted to you."
Revan sighed.
"No, HK. If you recall, I created a file in your core instructing you to protect a number of individuals. This 'meatbag' was among them. Besides, you already 'forever indebted' yourself to me when you begged me to buy you from Yuka Laka."
"Weary Resignation: Yes, Master, as you command."
Revan frowned.
"Where is Mission?"
"In her room. It appears your attempt at reconciling her with her fool of a brother was not as successful as you anticipated."
Revan glared at Bastila.
"At least I tried to help."
Carth glanced over at Zaalbar and even though he would never be able to understand the Wookiee, he knew he was thinking the same thing.
This is going to be a long trip.
"We're coming up on that cave. T3 is detecting energy emissions coming from within, as well as the thermal signature of something big. I guess you were right, Qel."
Revan nodded.
"Set us down but be careful. The surface of the sand may not be as stable as it appears."
As the Ebon Hawk flared for landing, Revan could just make out two figures standing outside the cave, what looked like a human and a Twi'lek. The two appeared to be arguing. After a few moments of this, the human threw up his arms and ran towards the cave. Revan closed his eyes. Even through the hull of the Hawk he could hear the roar of the krayt dragon. He could only shake his head at the man's stupidity.
Another fool is born every minute. This one will not be the last.
Holding his breath, Carth gingerly set the Ebon Hawk down, keeping a hand on the throttle just in case the soft sand gave way to the vessel's weight. He didn't need to worry. The ship landed with a soft 'thump', sinking only a few centimeters before coming to a complete stop.
"Well, shall we see what this cave holds in store for us?"
Canderous slung his omnipresent assault rifle over his shoulder. It was even hotter in the middle of the desert than in Anchorhead, if that was possible. The dry heat hit them the second they stepped out of the Ebon Hawk's hold.
"Ah, greetings. Have you come to join me in my hunt?"
"Hunt? What the hell are you talking about? Just get out of our way if you know what's good for you," Canderous growled at the Twi'lek. Carth inwardly chuckled at the Mandalorian.
"I apologize for my companion. By hunt, I assume you mean the krayt dragon that has taken up residence within this cave?"
The old Twi'lek shot Revan a gap toothed smile.
"Yes, the dragon is the prey I seek. I am Komad, a hunter wandering these parts. I have been tracking this dragon for some time, as it appears you have. Perhaps we should pool our efforts. This will not be an easy hunt."
"Agreed. Do you have a plan?"
The Twi'lek nodded.
"Yes actually. I have mined the entrance of the dragon's lair, a minefield extending to about two hundred meters. When the dragon comes out to feed…"
Canderous chuckled.
"That sounds like a good plan. What do you need us for?"
"You don't have enough mines, do you?"
The Twi'lek gave Revan a nod of respect.
"It appears you have some experience in such things. Yes, I ran out of mines. I have spaced the field at approximately five meters per mine, to maximize the damage each mine can inflict. However, the density of a krayt dragon's hide, especially a large bull such as this one, makes it unlikely the concussions will kill it."
"Davik kept a stash of explosives in hidden smuggling compartments buried beneath the floor. Those should do," Canderous offered.
"What?! Was he mad? Why didn't you tell me that before? One hard bump and we would have been blown past Kessel!" Carth almost shouted. Canderous shrugged.
"They're there in case the ship was ever boarded. Blow the ship and you blow up any evidence of his operations. Besides, you might be useless in everything else, but you are a half-decent pilot."
"Advisement: Master, there is sufficient explosive material to construct a field matching this hunter meatbag's mine schematics approximately five hundred meters by two hundred meters in area. This should be sufficient to stop an organic target of any size, although I have never encountered a meatbag this large."
Revan sighed.
"What if the field doesn't stop the beast?"
Canderous got a funny look in his eyes as he patted his oversized rifle.
"We throw everything we've got at it and hope the cursed thing dies."
The crew of the Ebon Hawk gathered in the central passenger compartment, counting the hours as they passed. It had been almost two days and the massive krayt dragon hadn't even stirred. Zaalbar roared, throwing down his Pazaak cards as Revan won yet another hand. The others suspected him of using the Force to cheat and the game had long since lost its appeal when it seemed the winner was already decided at the start of each hand.
"Bastila, did you ever think about joining all the Jedi who were running off to follow Revan and Malak when they went to fight the Mandalorians?" Carth mused idly.
"That was nearly five years ago. I was still an apprentice, my Battle Meditation hadn't even manifested itself. Yet even then I had the wisdom to obey the will of the Council. Unlike Revan."
She shot Revan a dirty look which he ignored.
"I guess. Still, do you ever wonder if things could have been different? Would Revan and Malak still have been corrupted if the Council had supported them instead of dragging its feet?"
"Do not blame Revan's corruption on the Council! Your Republic saw only the threat of the Mandalorians, but the wisdom of the Masters saw beyond the immediate threat."
"Of course, it was only a matter of mere months before the Republic would have fallen but the Council, in its infinite wisdom and foresight decided that did not qualify the Mandalorians as enough of an 'immediate threat'," Revan retorted mockingly.
"There was something lurking out there, something that devoured Revan and Malak – and many other Jedi. Had the Council sent us all into the unknown, how many more would have fallen?"
"Without my intervention the Republic would have fallen."
"And because of your 'intervention' the Republic is in danger of falling to a greater threat – one you created, Revan!"
"So you're saying we should have done nothing? Just let the Mandalorians conquer us unopposed? I mean, the Republic was under attack, and the Order abandoned us!" Carth declared angrily, completely oblivious to Revan and Bastila's telepathic sparring match.
"We did not abandon you! But the Council were not about to throw lives away foolishly. In time, we would have aided you against the Mandalorians. But you couldn't wait. Revan and Malak offered a quicker answer, and the Republic chose to walk the easy path rather than the path of wisdom. Now we see the results all around us."
Without me there would be nothing left to see.
She ignored him.
"You asked me if I think things could have been different? I know they could have! If Revan had only listened to the Council, millions of innocent people would still be alive."
"Yeah, right. And every single one of them would be speaking Mandalorian. I think we're done here. I should take over watch for Canderous before he gets moody again," Carth said in an
annoyed tone, getting up and leaving the room. When Carth left, an uneasy silence filled the compartment.
"How was your reunion with your brother, Mission?" Revan asked, awkwardly trying to fill the void. Mission shook her head angrily.
"It couldn't have been worse. You should have left him with the Sand People. Griff's a completely slimeball. I told you before Lena, his girlfriend stole him away and convinced him to leave me on Taris. Well, it turns out it was his idea all along! He lied to me! He left me behind to fend for myself while he went off to hatch another of his hair-brained get rich schemes."
"He's your flesh and blood, Mission. Don't be so quick to abandon him."
"And what would you know of family?" Bastila asked coldly. The words cut him deeply. The scars of his childhood and the manner in which he'd been orphaned had never healed. Revan wanted to say something back to her but bit his tongue.
I've made things bad enough between us. This business with her father has been more difficult for her than you can likely imagine. She needs your support, not your petty insults.
A series of explosions shook the ship and they rushed to their feet, hurrying outside. After hours of inactivity the dragon had finally awoken and as expected, went to feed. The first mines had detonated and didn't appear to have any effect on the beast other than to enrage it. The Ebon Hawk was set about five hundred yards from the bantha herd being used for bait, with an extra strip of mines serving as a safety barrier, but at the rate the animal was closing and the damage the mines were actually doing…
"Four hundred yards… three-fifty… three hundred… he's ignoring the bait… two-fifty…" Canderous counted down, the tension clear in his voice. If Carth didn't know better, he would have thought it was fear.
"Two hundred…. one-fifty… he's still ignoring the bait, he's coming towards us…"
"The Ebon Hawk's turbolasers… can they be used?" Bastila asked worriedly. Carth shook his head.
"There's a sand berm obstructing the line of fire for the ventral turret and the dorsal turret won't depress that low."
"One hundred… the mines don't look like they're doing much damage…"
Bastila was startled by the sound of a lightsaber hissing to life right behind her.
"I've had enough of these games," Revan said angrily, "Bastila, I've been too proud and arrogant to admit it, but I should never have said the things I did to you. I was wrong and I'm begging your forgiveness."
Before she could say anything, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, before striding defiantly in the direction of the charging krayt dragon, blue lightsaber in hand.
"You're crazy! You'll be killed! Come back!" Bastila cried, realizing what he was doing.
The dragon's saucer-sized eyes caught sight of him and its forked tongue flicked out, the beast almost appearing to salivate. Waiting for the animal to make it almost halfway through the final minefield, Revan used the Force to throw himself in the air, landing on the creature's massive head. Surprised, the dragon tossed its head back and forth, trying to throw off its rider but he held on tight, lightsaber in one hand, using the other to steady himself. With a howl loud enough to force everyone to cover their ears, the animal suddenly threw its head back, almost pitching Revan off. But he held on, gripping tightly to the beast's horned frill. Bucking its head again, Revan smashed against its side, the reptile's sandpaper-like skin drawing blood.
Damn you, you overgrown salamander!
Waiting for the dragon to stop moving for a moment, Revan tried to plunge his blue blade between the dermal bone plates protecting its skull. But just as he extended his arm, the creature bucked again, causing him to lose his balance and his footing, sending him sliding down the side of its bony neck frill. Growling in frustration as the monster's rock-hard armor plating sliced into his arm, he reached down into his boot, pulled out his dagger and slammed it into the animal's skin, using the embedded knife handle as a handhold, just before he plummeted to an almost-certain death under the krayt dragon's claws. The dagger wasn't even a pinprick to the enraged dragon. It began to toss its head from side to side, trying to shake him off. It was all Revan could do to both hold onto his lightsaber while keeping from losing his grip on his makeshift dagger-handhold. Swinging from side to side as he was, Revan closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His muscles were burning and every fiber in his body was stretched to its limit. Forcing himself to breathe, he realized that on each swing, he was being taken right past the dragon's eye, the only unprotected part of its face. Though the eye was a massive target, larger in diameter than a dinner plate, the velocity with which he was moving made it seem smaller than a pinhole.
I'm only going to have one shot at this… damn my stupidity… what was I thinking when I jumped on the back of a krayt dragon?
He had to hit his target on his first try. Extending his lightsaber would throw him way off balance, meaning if he missed, the creature's next head swing would send him flying into the afterlife.
"Always have to impress the girl, don't you Revan? Always have to do things the dramatic way, instead of the smart… safe way. Well, you better not miss this, you fool," he muttered to himself, tensing his body in preparation for his move. Feeling the air whistling through his hair, he counted down the seconds and then…
He missed. Unable to slow his descent with the Force, Revan fell hard to the ground, grimacing as he just barely managed to roll out of the way of the dragon's claws.
Here lies Revan, who lived a woefully incomplete life that prematurely ended as a consequence of his own foolishness. My, won't that look good on my funeral pyre.
The sharp report of a bowcaster pierced the air and a pair of green energy bolts struck the dragon. Roaring in enraged fury, the huge beast reared up and turned to face its tormentor. Zaalbar stood defiantly before the dragon, loading another shot onto his bowcaster.
"Hey! Leave him alone, you big bully!" Mission cried, plugging away at the creature with an almost comically underpowered holdout blaster. A steady stream of blaster bolts hummed through the air, showering the krayt dragon. The rounds were having almost no effect on the creature's impenetrable hide, serving only to enrage the beast further. What the heavy fire did do though, was present Revan with a distraction. Springing to his feet, he leapt back onto the dragon's snout, holding on tightly to prevent being thrown again. Gritting his teeth, he drew back his lightsaber and took aim at the monstrous eye again.
The legends of his conquests said Revan never missed twice. The legends were true. Letting out a final bone-chilling howl, the dragon bucked its head back one last time and rolled over, crashing to the ground and sending a cloud of dust into the air. Revan lay on his back, barely twenty meters away where he'd thrown himself. Finally allowing himself to breathe normally, he felt his body relax and closed his eyes.
"May the gods of the hunt travel with you forever, brave stranger!"
Komad's voice awoke him from his bliss. The sand had felt so smooth and warm when he'd first landed. Now it just felt hard, rough, and burning hot. The voices of the others came to him as if through a mist.
"I thought you were crazy before, but now I know you're completely insane," Canderous shouted to him, shaking his head in disbelief. Bastila said nothing. She just ran across the hot sand and threw herself on top of him, not caring that the others were watching.
"You are completely out of your mind! Don't you ever do that again! You might have been killed had the fates not been smiling on you!"
Revan managed a weak laugh before coughing up sand from his lungs.
"Was that disappointment I heard in your voice?"
"What?"
"When you said I could have been killed…"
Despite the violent shocks of pain shooting through his entire body, he flashed her a grin.
"Argh! What the hell was that?!"
Bastila smirked, holding up a medpac she'd just jabbed into his side.
"Couldn't you just have used the Force?" Revan asked, grimacing as he felt the kolto in the medpac taking effect. He hated needles with a passion. Obviously Bastila hadn't forgotten.
"I could, but then I would have sacrificed the opportunity to get even with you."
Feeling his nerves numbing as a result of the sedatives, Revan forced his eyes open to look into hers.
"So does that mean you've forgiven me?"
Bastila gave him an infuriatingly sweet, little girl smile, and kissed him on the forehead.
"I'll consider it."
Calo Nord watched from a nearby sand dune, his speeder and those of his companions hidden by small cloaking devices. He'd spent far too much energy tracking this bounty, far more than he ever had before. His escape from Taris had not been an easy one. After Canderous and his companion had left him for dead, he'd somehow dragged himself out of the wreckage and taken cover in the armored bunker under Davik's estate where he was protected from the Sith bombardment. From there, he'd been able to wait out the Sith, emerging from the wreckage to fight another day, as he always had. Contacting his 'business associates', he had discovered something interesting: Canderous' companion had been working to transport a very important individual off world before the bombardment - one he knew the Sith would pay handsomely for.
Offering to hunt down Bastila Shan for double his usual fee, he'd lost the Ebon Hawk shortly after it'd left Taris but lucked out when a local informant had reported a vessel matching its description landing in Anchorhead. It had seemed like a cakewalk from there. Bastila may have been a legendary Jedi but this was for her Battle Meditation, not her prowess in battle. He'd doubted her companions would put up much opposition but after seeing the Jedi accompanying her almost single-handedly slay a krayt dragon, he wondered if he'd finally found a bounty worthy of his formidable abilities…
Revan waved his hand in front of his face, waving away the dust in the cave. There was a darkness here he could feel, just as he had on Dantooine. And just like on Dantooine, the darkness wasn't affecting him. But despite their display of bravery against the krayt dragon, the arcane power of the cave was having a definite effect on Revan's companions. Mission had taken no more than three steps into the cave before running back out. Carth, his hands subconsciously twitching as they reached for his blasters, mumbled a quick excuse about having to watch over the ship before leaving. Even Canderous, one of the 'fearless' Mandalorians, a veteran of countless battles decided to wait outside, declaring prudence to be the better part of valor. If it hadn't been for the Wookiee life debt, Revan had no doubt Zaalbar would long be gone as well. Reaching up, he patted the huge Wookiee on the shoulder.
"It's alright, you don't have to come with us. I doubt there's any danger lying in wait back here. You can serve by watching over the ship with the others. Whatever dangers the desert holds will likely be outside this cave."
Revan didn't have to say another word. Zaalbar was off before he could blink. There was some sort of electronic interference in the cave that had kept T3-M4 and HK-47 on the Ebon Hawk. It was just he and Bastila now. Glancing over at her, he smiled. She tried her best to put on a brave face but he could tell the dark presence of the cave was getting to her. He could feel her emotions faintly through their bond and knew she was on edge. As a Jedi, he knew she could feel the darkness far more acutely than the others. And yet she was still here, following right behind him. The pride he felt for her bubbled up within him and he found himself realizing for the millionth time how much he loved this woman. Revan reached out his hand and she took it. Picking his way over some rocks, he was just able to make out the familiar form of a Star Map, identical to the one they'd found on Dantooine. Just as on Dantooine, the Star Map unfolded as they approached it. Revan frowned. Something was stirring within him, like it had been awoken. He'd felt it on Dantooine as well, in the ruins… like a whisper through the Force. Ominous, like black clouds gathering on the horizon…
"Revan, are you alright?"
He snapped out of his dream-like state.
"Yes… yes, of course. Why do you ask?"
Bastila looked at him worriedly before turning back to the datapad she was using to record the Star Map's data.
"You looked like something was bothering you. I was telling you about the Star Map."
"What have you determined?"
She handed him the datapad.
"It's very much like the one we discovered on Dantooine. It has been damaged and much of the data is worthless, but there should be something left that will help us some. However, we will still have to find the other Star Maps before we can even begin to guess at the Star Forge's location. Hopefully they will complete the puzzle."
Revan nodded. As they turned to leave, something caught his eye. The body of a middle aged man, about in his late forties or early fifties…
"Bastila…" he called softly. The man's leg was mangled, the massive claws of a krayt dragon having torn through the muscle but the rest of his body was untouched. Revan had seen more dead men during the Mandalorian Wars than he ever wanted to remember. This man had died of either blood loss or dehydration, possibly a combination of both, and not too long ago. As she turned, she let out a gasp and he knew immediately who it was.
The guide had been wrong. Somehow Bastila's father had managed to crawl away from the beast, struggling to the back of this cave where it couldn't reach him. He couldn't have died more than a few days ago. Revan would have expected a look of horror or a grimace of pain etched on the dead man's face but instead he saw peace. This man hadn't died with fear in his heart but with the courage of one who stared death right in the face before it took him.
Bastila stood beside the body, a stoic expression on her face. It was just a mask. He could feel the turmoil within her, threatening to rip her apart. Revan reached down, lifting a tattered equipment pack from the man's shoulder. Slowly, he emptied the contents, placing each item reverently on a large rock. A few coins, a spare energy cell for the blaster rifle by his side, a hunter's license, a canteen… and a holocron. Bastila looked like she wanted to cry. He could feel her pain so strongly now through their bond that he had to stop for a moment to recover his breath. Revan dusted off the holocron with his sleeve and held it out to her. Taking it from him, she held it close to her body as if deciding whether or not to play it, then put it into a pouch on her belt.
"Come, we've got what we came for. We should move on."
"Bastila… I'm sorry."
"I'm fine, Revan, don't worry about me."
She said it with a smile but with an underlying tone that troubled him. Not wanting to upset her any further, he just smiled back at her and followed her lead as she picked her way back out of the cave.
Bastila heard a soft knock on her door. Sitting on her bunk, knees pulled into her chest, she watched the holocron of her father, face devoid of emotion. She couldn't let grief take her, it wasn't the way of the Jedi…
"Come in," she finally called. Revan eased the door open slowly.
"He's gone. And I never even got a chance to say a last goodbye. He never got to see his little girl become a Jedi."
Revan sat down beside her, his dark brown eyes fixed on her.
"Bastila…"
"That leaves a hurt inside you can't imagine. But I have to be strong don't I? I have to remember my training. There is no emotion… there is peace."
A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. In a single moment, the mature, self-confident young woman she'd spent almost fifteen years making herself into transformed back into the brokenhearted little girl with the sad eyes, face pressed against the window, watching her father become smaller and smaller as the shuttle left for Dantooine. She fell into Revan's arms, feeling her strength leave her as she felt her heart break again, shattering just as it had when she was just five, on her way to join the Jedi.
"I'm sorry… I… I don't know what to say…"
She buried her face in his chest, her tears splashing onto his robes.
"I-I am a Jedi… I shouldn't be like this… it… it isn't right…"
Revan held her close, feeling her shoulders heave with each sob. Her pain struck him, as if the Force itself had formed itself into a knife and stabbed him.
"Guilt. You feel guilty for loving your father, for the pain you feel at his loss."
A slight nod was the extent of her response. Revan bit his lip, unsure of what to say.
"Bastila… you can't always be strong. This emptiness you feel… it won't just go away because you wish it so. You loved your father, and no code or creed can ever change that. The emptiness, the pain you feel within… these are wounds only time and tears can heal. The Force is a powerful ally, but not even the Force is strong enough to mend a broken spirit. Let the tears fall, let go of the Force… you're a daughter right now, not a Jedi. Let me be your strength."
It was like the floodgates had been opened. For the next hour, Revan said no more, just holding her in his arms, wishing he could take her burden upon himself but helpless to do anything but provide a comforting shoulder. The sound of the Ebon Hawk's engines powering down told him they were back in Anchorhead.
"Your mother will be waiting for you."
She played with her father's holocron, turning it over in her hands.
"I know."
"What are you going to do?"
"My mother… she's all I have left…" she whispered. Revan leaned over and tenderly kissed her, feeling her still-warm tears against his skin.
"Whatever happens, whatever the future holds in store, you'll always have me."
Sato sat in the dingy hotel room, checking over his blaster rifle one last time. As usual, when Calo Nord had called him, the diminutive bounty hunter had told him next to nothing, other than where to rendezvous with him. Hearing the wooden floorboards creak just outside the door, his hand immediately went to the blaster sitting on the bed beside him, but relaxed as Calo walked through. Two rough-looking men who Sato took as other 'contractors' Calo had hired followed closely behind, carrying a large metal packing crate.
"I'm glad to see you made it, Sato. I was beginning to wonder if you were standing me up," Calo said ominously.
"Intergalactic flights from Coruscant to Tatooine aren't exactly frequent. How was your business on Taris, by the way," Sato asked smugly.
"None of your business. It doesn't concern you."
Sato chuckled. The little bounty hunter was starting to get on his nerves and he was enjoying tormenting him.
"That bad, eh? But enough of this. What's the target?"
Calo nodded to his two cronies, who dropped the crate on the floor.
"Don't you want to know what's in the crate?"
"Should I care?"
"You should if you want to come out of this bounty alive. Open the case!"
One of the thugs, a hulking Zabrak, flipped the lid of the heavy metal container open. Sato curiously leaned over to get a better look.
"What's this, Calo? Looking to start a zoo?"
Inside the case were several glass containers, each containing a strange, furry, lizard-like creature, attached to a branch.
"They're ysalamiri, creatures naturally resistant to the Force. It's a defense mechanism, or so I've been told. Doesn't really matter to me though, all we need to know is they create a 'bubble' in which the Force can't be used. They cost me a fortune, but they're somewhat useful when hunting a Jedi."
Sato frowned.
"You never said anything about a Jedi."
Calo chuckled, closing the case.
"Why? Are you afraid? The payoff is huge, more than you would ever believe. Someone is willing to pay very much for this particular Jedi. I know a little of your background Sato, that you were a member of one of Darth Revan's elite Jedi-hunting death squads. That's why I called you. You're not backing out on me now, are you?"
It wasn't that Sato had any love for the Jedi. Like his old master, he hated them with a passion. But there was something strange going on, he just couldn't place his finger on it.
"Jedi are formidable opponents. One does not simply hunt them for sport. Do you have a name? Who is this Jedi?"
Calo smiled smugly as if he was about to tell the punchline to a joke.
"Bastila. Bastila Shan."
Sato stiffened as if he had been shot.
Bastila is alive? If Bastila survived the Titan… what happened to Revan?
Revan had given him clear orders to ensure the girl was unharmed. While that had been months ago, and he wasn't even sure his Master still lived, or even if he still had need of the girl, the will of Darth Revan was absolute, his commands carrying weight even beyond his own death. Quickly recovering from his shock, he looked up at Calo.
"I see, do you have a plan?"
Carth replaced the panel over the fixed transponder and got to his feet. As he walked back to the larger of the two cargo holds they had converted into a crude repair shop, he stopped by the smaller one Revan and Bastila had seemingly unofficially taken over as a meditation and training chamber. Except for a break to solace Bastila over her father, he'd practically locked himself in there since they'd returned to Anchorhead. Unlike when they'd first left Dantooine, when he'd dazzled them with amazing displays of lightsaber swordsmanship, the movements and strokes he was practicing now were simple, very short and uncomplicated.
"What's up?"
Revan, practicing the same basic parry-and-thrust move for the twelfth time, shut off his lightsaber at Carth's voice. He forced a smile.
"I don't know. Just practicing. If I'm going to be of any use on this mission, I'll have to become as proficient with this thing as possible. I've got a lot of Jedi training to catch up on… about twenty years," he chuckled. Carth joined him in laughter for a moment but stopped.
"You looked pretty good from what I saw, better than Bastila even… she's not behind me, is she?"
Revan smiled and shook his head.
"I look alright because I have a lot of experience with bladed weapons. A lightsaber isn't quite the same though, I've discovered. The blade doesn't weigh anything so it's quicker and harder to handle. I developed my swordsmanship skills as a hobby, I used to collect blades before the war," Revan lied. He had completely dissected his lightsaber forms when he'd returned to the ship. He'd gotten lucky with the Sith in Anchorhead and lucky with the krayt dragon in the desert. In war, one had to be lucky to survive. But to be lucky, a man also had to be good. And he was feeling anything but 'good' at the moment.
When he'd broken down each of his lightsaber forms though, all the way from Form I to Form VII, he'd found to his horror he was actually physically incapable of executing many of the moves he'd known before and been able to do more naturally than walking. He knew he could do them in his head but… when he tried to use them, his body wouldn't listen. It was like the knowledge, his muscles' memories, was gone.
Carth smiled and shrugged.
"Why don't you ask Bastila? I'm sure she'd be happy to help."
Asking Bastila would be even worse. Bad enough he had discovered he wasn't the demigod of the Force he'd thought he'd been, to have to admit his newfound weakness, even to her, was unthinkable.
"I suppose I could. But actually, there's something you can help me with, Carth."
Carth arched an eyebrow.
"Me? I don't know how much I could help, but sure, I'll do what I can."
"Set your blasters to stun."
Frowning, Carth did as Revan asked.
"Now try to shoot me."
"What?!"
Revan's Form III, the defensive Form developed specifically to counter blaster weapons, had once been among his most-used Forms. With his technical perfection in it, he'd been able to charge into entire companies of blaster-firing troops through both the Mandalorian Wars and his later conquests without even being touched. If he could still deflect blaster fire, it would at least tell him he was still able to remember something.
"Don't worry. Just do it, you set them on stun anyways, right?"
Carth sighed, pulled one blaster from the holster at his side, and squeezed off a single shot which Revan batted away as easily as a pro hoverball player swatting a slow-pitched ball. He shook his head.
"No, really try to hit me. With both your blasters, please."
With a puzzled expression on his face, Carth unholstered his other blaster.
"Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you when you wake up staring at the ceiling and your head throbbing with a massive migraine. These are modified Arkanian models, not training blasters."
Stepping back slightly to a distance of about ten yards, right up against the bulkhead, Carth took aim and opened fire. He was obviously very skilled with his blasters, able to sustain a ridiculous rate of fire with a pair of non-automatic weapons. Still, Revan was able to deflect all the bolts with ease and Carth stopped.
"No, keep it coming."
No Jedi could stand against a flurry of bolts forever. But Revan knew what his limits had been. At the peak of his abilities, right before his 'death', he'd been able to stand up to fully automatic blaster fire for almost an hour without being touched. Again, Carth took aim and let fly. Revan deflected a few and then stopped him.
"My repeater's in that bag in the corner. Use that instead."
"A repeater? Are you out of your mind? Squad weapons don't even have stun settings!"
Revan shook his head.
"They do, but they do more damage than other stun bolts. Just go; if I get hit, you'll just have to wake me up in a few days," he said with a laugh. Looking doubtful, Carth slid the menacing, glossy black weapon from its protective sheath. As he heard the click of the safety being released, Revan tensed himself. Deflecting blaster pistol fire was easy. But he doubted every enemy he would face on the way to the Star Forge would be armed so simply. The blast of the repeater was deafening in the confines of the metal walls of the Ebon Hawk. Carth's eyes went wide in amazement as Revan's lightsaber became a blur, splitting all the bolts wide. But Revan knew he was in trouble. Deflecting blaster bolts depended on being able to anticipate them in the Force. He was feeling them, but he was reacting, swinging and positioning his blade long after the bolt left the barrel of the repeater. He was beating the bolts with his exceptional natural quickness, not his skill with the lightsaber. He began to fall behind as each successive bolt got closer and closer. He winced as the inevitable happened and a pair of stun bolts struck him in the shoulder. Giving a cry more of frustration than pain, he shut off his lightsaber and threw it to the metal deck. Carth lowered the repeater.
"Hey, are you alright?"
The intensity of the stun bolts fired from a repeater would have been enough to take down a bantha. The pain alone should have knocked out the young man standing before him. But Revan rubbed his shoulder once and seemingly forgot about it as he banged his fist against the bulkhead angrily.
"Get your shirt off, we should probably take a look at that," Carth ordered. The bolt had to have done damage. Still shaking his head in frustration, Revan pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it over his lightsaber. Just as Carth suspected, his shoulder was one enormous mass of ugly, mangled tissue. Being stun bolts, they had done no structural damage, no broken bones or torn flesh, but Revan had what looked like the most painful bruise Carth had ever seen.
"Swing your arm around a few times."
Revan rotated his shoulder as Carth had asked. Shocks of pain shot through his shoulder and upper chest but he didn't even flinch. The frustration at the discovery of his diminished skills hurt far more than any damage a stun bolt could do. Carth frowned.
"I don't know how you're still standing, but we better get a medpac on that, just the same."
"No, I'll… I'll use the Force to fix it. I need the practice," Revan said with a smile he didn't feel. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force – and felt nothing in return. His endurance in the Force had always been exceptional, beyond anything seen in a Jedi since Exar Kun. But when he reached out to it now… he could sense it but he couldn't touch it. The superhuman Force sensitivity was still there, but his ability to tap into it was gone. It was like a man dying of thirst finding a cool well, only to discover there was no way to reach the water.
"Damn!"
Carth chuckled.
"You may be a Jedi, but you're not an immortal, my friend. I'll get that medpac."
"No, it's alright Carth. I will take care of this."
Revan had thought he and Carth were the only ones in the ship, but Bastila had been quietly mediating in her quarters when the din of blaster fire had disturbed her.
"Um… actually, Carth, could you check on the port stabilizer? I am concerned the last sandstorm may have damaged it," Bastila said. Carth laughed.
"Trying to get rid of me, huh? Yeah, sure. Just don't forget about that whole Jedi chaste thing. I don't want to come back here and have you telling me to run into town for diapers."
Bastila glared at him and Carth threw up his hands, backing out of the room.
"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll be 'fixing' the stabilizers if you need me."
Easing the door closed, Carth's footsteps faded as he left the ship.
"However did you get that?" Bastila asked, shaking her head at his bruised shoulder. Revan nodded towards the repeater leaned up against the bulkhead.
"You're mad, Revan. What were you thinking?"
Closing her eyes briefly, Bastila called the Force to her and Revan felt his damaged tissue repairing itself.
"I had to practice my blaster deflection."
"With a repeater?! You silly fool, that's what remotes are for! Besides, why would you practice your bolt deflection? You're already an expert! You trained half of the apprentices on Dantooine in it!"
"Just… I had to do it…"
Revan sighed. Bastila ran her hand over his bare shoulder. The bruise was gone and the skin looked as good as new.
"There, all done," she said cheerfully.
Revan smiled and kissed her on the cheek.
"Thanks sweetheart."
"You could have fixed this yourself Revan. I hope you weren't just trying to lure me in here with your shirt off so you could take advantage of me!" Bastila teased.
I should just tell her.
Revan pulled his shirt back on and clipped his lightsaber back to his belt, gnawing on his bottom lip, unsure how he should explain to her Revan the Invincible had rejoined the ranks of the mere mortal.
"Bastila… do you remember on Taris, when I told you I remembered everything, everything except the Star Forge?"
Bastila nodded.
"I was wrong. I've forgotten far more than I'd thought. There were things I could do in my sleep before that now… I can't even remember how to begin. I told Carth to shoot at me with the repeater to test my skill with a lightsaber."
"And…?"
"I withstood his fire for almost forty-five seconds. Then… I got hit."
Bastila laughed lightly.
"Revan, most Jedi wouldn't be able to stand up to a repeating rifle for even ten seconds!"
Revan frowned.
"But I could… there was a time, during the Mandalorian Wars when I could do much more. Do you remember the legends they told? About battles against entire companies of Mandalorian soldiers I won singlehandedly?"
"Why yes, Revan. I kept every holonet broadcast that even mentioned your name! Master Vrook said they were just rumors though, that no Jedi could battle a company of blaster-armed men and win…"
Revan sat forward and shook his head.
"No, they were true, I was invulnerable to blasters. No one, not even you, knows how hard Malak and I trained in the months before we joined the war. I slept less than three hours a night, honing my skills for battle. By the time the Mandalorian Wars ended and I… returned, I could have challenged the entire Council at once… and won. Now…"
He put his head in his hands.
"Just the effort of deflecting a few bolts was enough to drain me of my ability to call on the Force. I tried, but I wasn't able to use the Force to heal myself. I'm… I'm weak, Bastila and…"
He smashed his fist against the bulkhead, making her jump as he squeezed his eyes closed.
"I hate it! It's like being blind, like knowing you can run but being able to only walk! It's…"
Tears of frustration trickled down his cheeks. Bastila reached out to him and pulled him to her lap, gently cradling his face in her small hands.
"You're not weak, Revan. You're just… many Jedi strive for years to become what you are now. You were a different man in the Mandalorian Wars. It has been some time since you were personally in battle, even as a Sith."
"No, that's… that's not it. The mindwipe… it did more damage than I believed possible. And now that I can no longer reach out to the power of the dark side to aid me… I am but a shadow of the man I used to be…"
"But you were the most powerful Jedi the Order had seen in decades, maybe even centuries! Even a shadow of that man holds power far beyond that most Jedi can even dare dream of! You use the Juyo form, Revan, a form not even the Masters can wield with your skill, you're not weak!"
Revan clenched his fists together and ground his teeth.
"But I am too weak for what lies ahead! I am too weak to defeat Malak, to protect you! And…"
Revan rose to his feet and ignited his lightsaber.
"While I can still use the Juyo form…"
He settled into the basic stance of Form V, another advanced form. He executed a sequence and even Bastila could see he was missing several steps and the deadly precision and accuracy of the strikes was missing. Revan switched to the a Form II stance, a form used exclusively in lightsaber-to-lightsaber combat, and against launched himself into a series of moves. Again, he didn't look like the Revan of old. Finally, he turned to the most basic of forms, Form I, the form used to introduce new apprentices to the art of using a lightsaber. Even then, he made missteps. The natural power, strength, and quickness of the legendary Revan were there, but the precision, accuracy, and technical perfection that had made his name famous were gone.
"…I have completely forgotten entire elements of other forms. It's like… they've been erase, like somebody just stripped them away and left nothing! When I reach out to the Force, it feels distant, like I have to strain to hear its call. I was not only unable to heal myself… I…"
Revan's voice lowered to barely a whisper.
"I can't even remember how."
Bastila had to do a double check when she heard his words. Learning to heal through the Force was one of the first lessons a young apprentice was given. For Revan, a Knight whose knowledge of the Force had exceeded even that of many of the Jedi Council, to say he couldn't remember was unimaginable.
"Revan, these things will return to you. What has been forgotten can be learned again. I… I can teach you."
She expected him to laugh but Revan just smiled weakly.
"Bastila… baby girl… not once did I ever imagine I would have to go to you to train me. It humbles me to say this. I… I accept your help. Thank you."
Bastila couldn't help but smile at how painful it looked for Revan to force out the words. A part of her wanted to feel insulted that Revan found the idea of her teaching him so ridiculous but another part of her put herself in his position and understood. If he had told her eight years ago that she would one day teach him how to heal, she would have laughed. The idea of the great Revan going to her, a mere Padawan who until recently, had been considered a Jedi of at best modest abilities, was ludicrous.
"Then we should begin immediately, apprentice."
She giggled at Revan's expression at her calling him 'apprentice'. Revan fixed her with a look of mock outrage.
"I may not remember how to heal, Padawan, but rest assured, my ability to project Force lightning is still very much intact."
Canderous set his glass down and stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Heh, I never thought of things that way. I've always found the best way to go through a locked door is just to blast it."
Mission nodded.
"Yup. If you slice it, whoever's on the other side won't know until it's too late. If you blast it, the whole world knows you're coming. Big Z used to think like you, until I showed him how security spikes can be your best friend."
Zaalbar laughed heartily.
"I knew how to use security spikes, even before you 'taught' me, Mission."
Mission frowned.
"Yeah right, you big hairy lump! All you knew when I met you was to grab people and shake them until they gave you food!"
Canderous chuckled.
"Hey Flyboy, you've been disassembling and assembling your blasters over and over again all night. Keeping your weapons clean is important but I think you might be overdoing it just a little."
Carth clicked the slide on his blaster back on for the tenth time and frowned.
"I'm not cleaning it. It's just… I'm not sure it's working right. Qel wanted to use me to practice his blaster bolt deflection, that thing Jedi do with their lightsabers, you know? I hit him with a stun bolt and he didn't even flinch so… I'm just wondering if the power cell might be depleted."
Canderous waved to the blaster.
"Give it here."
He caught the thrown blaster with one hand and removed the power cell.
"Nope. It looks fine to me. It's just you and your pathetic kid-sized pea shooter."
Switching the setting on the blaster to 'stun', he aimed it at his thigh.
"Hey, what are you…"
"If Qel can take a stun bolt from this toy, I'm pretty sure I can. Relax, I'm just testing it for you."
Canderous pulled the trigger and gave a yell that would have woken the dead.
"Sith's blood! What the hell is this thing?! This ain't no standard issue weapon!"
Carth smirked.
"It's an Arkanian blaster with a few… modifications. It has a power output three times that of a standard issue Republic sidearm. But you already knew that, right?"
Mission broke into a fit of giggles as Canderous limped to his feet.
"Damnit, Flyboy, I can't even feel my leg! What kind of modifications are you talking about? I've used Arkanian pistols in the past and I'm telling you… that's no ordinary Arkanian blaster! You can't tell me Qel took two of those bolts!"
"Maybe he's just tougher than you," Mission teased. Canderous glared at her.
"Or maybe Bastila's boy toy was all shot up with stims, you think about that?"
"Boy toy?"
Canderous shook his head.
"They went out to town together. Alone. That's the fifth time this week, hence Qel's new title: 'Bastila's Boy Toy'."
Carth chuckled.
"If he hears you calling him that, I'm not going to want to be around. You're tough, Mandalorian, but that kid's done things in the last few weeks I didn't even think were possible. Besides, give him a break. It's not like she's got him on a leash. In fact, I'd say he's the one who's got her on a leash. Have you seen the way she looks at him?"
Mission laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"He is kind of cute… he's too old for me, of course and I don't really go for humans but… I could see why Bastila might like him. But I don't know if you guys should be talking about this anymore. You sound like a bunch of little girls, the way you're gossiping."
"Gossiping? Mandalorians don't 'gossip'. Qel's infatuation with the Ice Princess could have serious ramifications should he ever have to go into battle with her again. I am merely breaking down the tactical disadvantages a relationship between the two of them could create."
Mission rolled her eyes.
"Right."
Revan felt Bastila nuzzle up against him as they left the cantina. Giving her hand a squeeze, he smiled at her and was rewarded with a happy smile of her own. She was at peace, more so than he'd felt from her in a long time. Her reunion with her mother had gone better than even Revan had hoped for. As they'd talked, Revan had been struck by how alike mother and daughter really were. The stubborn determination and indomitable will to succeed he loved so much about her had come from the woman who'd given birth to her, not her father as he'd previously believed. Being so alike, he could understand how Bastila's pride, which he'd also grown to know well, had kept her and her mother apart.
"Do you feel better?"
She stopped him and surprised him by hugging him closely.
"Better than I've ever felt in my life," she bubbled, "Only… I wish we could have had more time. Why did I have to be such a fool, Revan?"
"You were only five. You loved her even then, you just never realized it. And you still have time, time to do what you need, to make up for time you lost."
She put her head to his chest, resting.
"Oh, Revan, I don't want to lose her… not again. Just the thought…"
"I know," Revan whispered quietly, "I know."
He brightened slightly, sounding optimistic.
"But where there is life, there is hope. The doctor I sent her to on Coruscant is among the finest in the galaxy. He has worked miracles before and he will take care of your mother, I am sure."
"She seems to like you."
Revan chuckled.
"Yes, well, why shouldn't she? I practically raised her daughter from childhood!" he teased.
"You did not! You make it sound like I was completely helpless," Bastila protested, "Which I was… sometimes… fine, you win!"
She frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"Did you feel it?"
Revan reached out to the Force and felt… nothing.
"I don't understand."
"The Force… it's like… it's like it suddenly left me…"
Relying far more heavily on the Force, Bastila felt its absence for more acutely than Revan. But something stirred in the back of Revan's mind… something he could just barely remember. There were few places in the galaxy the Force did not touch in some way, shape, or form. As part of the relentless study routine he had taken up shortly before leaving the Jedi, poring through literally hundreds of volumes in the Jedi Archives each day, he knew most of these places. And Tatooine wasn't one of them.
"Ysalamiri… that's strange…"
Appearing seemingly from nowhere, they found themselves suddenly surrounded by gunmen, blazing away at them with blasters. Deflecting the bolts was almost impossible, without the ability to feel them through the Force and Revan knew they wouldn't survive the barrage for long.
"You attack, I'll protect you!" he ordered. Fighting without the Force was like fighting blind for a Jedi. Revan had fought without the Force before, he had some idea of what it was like. His dedication to learning to fight as a Force-blind combatant, without any aid other than his own strength had paid off, saving his life countless times where a more resolute Jedi would have died.
Following Bastila, deflecting the bolts based on instinct and experience, rather than the Force, he glanced back only briefly as she leapt between two of their attackers, cutting them down quickly. Force or not, a Jedi was still a fighter without equal at close range. With the deadly triangulated fire circle missing two of its spokes, the fire seemed to slacken and Revan left Bastila's side, his lightsaber flashing as he went on the offensive himself. He smiled as he felt her initial fear beginning to subside as the flow of battle turned against their assailants. Striking down the last of the gunmen, the sun glinting off a glass surface caught his eye. Bastila, scanning the area one last time before putting out her lightsaber, came over to him.
"What's happening to me, I still can't feel the Force!"
"Ysalamiri."
"Ysalamiri?"
Revan gestured to a small glass case, containing a small, furry creature, about a half meter in length.
"Rare reptilian creatures with the unique ability to 'push back' the Force. Whoever attacked us knew what he… or she… was doing. But that fight was too easy. Something's not right…"
A flash in the corner of his eye warned him to duck, a split second before a blaster bolt flew by his head. Turning, he saw one last gunman jump on a swoop bike and peel off around a corner.
"Stay here, I'm going after him!"
Before Bastila could say anything, Revan was off, his athletic frame taking him swiftly after the fleeing swoop. The streets of Anchorhead were narrow and hard to navigate. The swoop bike's speed would be virtually negated. Revan needed answers and he would get them.
As soon as Revan disappeared, Calo sighted carefully through the scope on his rifle.
Hmmm… she's cute. I wonder if Admiral Karath will let me have her for a night before I turn her over…
It was a ridiculously easy shot, less than a hundred meters, seventy-five, if that. His finger barely touching the trigger, he gave it a light squeeze and watched as his target instinctively flinched and reached up to her shoulder blade, where he had shot her with the tranquilizer dart. Her hand never went past her ribcage. She collapsed into the dust. Calo smiled.
Revan spotted the swoop rider, breaking out into the marketplace, heading towards the spacedocks. Just as he'd known it would, the swoop had slowed down a lot in the winding streets but out in the open, he wouldn't be able to catch it. Cursing his luck, he was about to pull his lightsaber from his belt to throw when a speeder suddenly appeared from nowhere in the path of the swoop. The bike smashed into the side of the vehicle, throwing its rider through the air.
The speeder's occupants, four heavily armed men who looked like mercenaries, scrambled out, two of them rushing to the swoop rider, the other two walking towards Revan, their weapons deliberately pointed to the ground. Revan was about to draw his lightsaber when he noticed something. Their substandard, mismatching weapons and armor suggested bounty hunters. Their deliberate manner told him they were soldiers.
"Who are you," Revan challenged.
"177th SRG, Master Jedi. But there is no time to waste, your companion is in grave danger!"
His blood running cold, Revan turned and broke into a flat out run, pushing his body harder than he thought he ever had, the soldiers following close behind.
Calo allowed himself the rare opportunity to relax as he watched his men come out of hiding to secure Bastila. Packing up his rifle and stepping out into the street, he thought of the bounty he would receive for capturing her and smiled. The smile disappeared as Sato appeared in the square ahead.
"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be guarding our exfiltration route! If that other Jedi comes back…"
Before Calo could react, Sato shot him in the legs, dropping him. Then the massive soldier turned and coolly drilled each of Calo's men before they could even move.
"The terms of our agreement have changed, Calo."
Calo stared up, lying on his back, feeling fear for the first time in a long while at the massive beast of a man towering over him.
"You… you betrayed me… you'll pay for this," he hissed. Sato shook his head and pointed his blaster carbine in Calo's face, hefting it with one, muscle-bound arm.
"This wasn't about credits. Goodbye, Calo."
Revan spotted Bastila, lying motionless in the square and immediately assumed the worst. Running to her side, he took her in his arms and frantically felt for a pulse.
"Bastila… baby girl, it's Revan…"
"She was shot with a tranquilizer. She will recover, although she will awake with somewhat of a headache," a strangely familiar baritone voice boomed. Revan looked up, noticing the carnage around him for the first time. In addition to the men he and Bastila had struck down initially, at least seven more men lay dead, their blood soaking into the sand. Then he found himself looking into the shadow cast by a hulking, mountain of a man, a behemoth of nothing but muscle, sinew, and bone.
"It is good to see you well, my Lord. I had thought you dead with the destruction of the Titan."
Revan thought he had never been happier at seeing the scarred, grim face of his former bodyguard.
"You saved the life of my love, Sato. I don't know how I will ever repay you."
Sato smiled, one of the few times Revan had actually seen him without a scowl on his face.
"You saved my life many times before, my Lord Revan. I am forever indebted to you, not the other way around."
Revan suddenly frowned.
"Wait… what are you doing here?"
Sato sighed.
"The story is long, and not particularly interesting. All the same, we should get you and your companion out of this heat. One can only speculate at who might be watching."
"I escaped the destruction of the Titan in your fighter, the Eternity's End. I always thought it a peculiar name for a vessel, especially one of its size."
"But it survived, didn't it?" Revan asked, a little quickly. Sato smiled.
The Eternity's End had started out as a prototype G-Wing fighter. Incorporating state-of-the-art components throughout its frame, the fighter had originally been designed more with the intent of being a testbed, rather than a production model. But as soon as twenty-year-old Commander Revan had laid his eyes on the sleek, shark-like form, sitting on the hanger floor of a Republic military lab on Coruscant, he had known immediately it had to be his. In gratitude for his service, the Republic had built another model for him, which he customized extensively. Larger than most other fighters, and even bombers, in service in the Mandalorian Wars, Republic or Mandalorian, the G-Wing was nonetheless a formidable weapon – in the right hands. As it turned out, the craft was too unstable and difficult to fly to ever go into production. Its cutting edge propulsion systems meant a pilot had to have superhuman reflexes to fly it. As a competent, but not expert pilot, Revan was surprised Sato had been able to even take off, much less steer it through the chaos of battle.
"Yes, my lord, it did. Rest assured, I have kept it in a safe location and it awaits your return."
Revan chuckled.
"I apologize for my interruption. It has been some time since I sat at the controls of my own ship. Please continue."
"As I have said, there is not much to tell, my lord. Malak was particularly intent on destroying your followers so I fled to Coruscant and where I became a bounty hunter."
"I never took you for the bounty hunter type, Sato."
The massive soldier laughed softly to himself.
"Neither did I, my lord, neither did I. I certainly did not enjoy it. After a few months of this, I gained some notice among the more accomplished bounty hunters, a man named Calo Nord, in particular. He contracted me out for a number of bounties, which led to my being here. My being there to rescue your… friend… was strictly coincidence. Your last order to me before your 'death' was to ensure her safety."
Revan smiled ironically.
"You risked much by following the orders of a dead commander. You are a strange man, Sato."
"As are you, my lord."
Revan laughed.
"But those soldiers… they said they were from the 177th. I was led to believe the 177th was disbanded after the Mandalorian War."
Sato shook his head.
"You of all people should know the Republic Fleet never truly 'disbands' any of its covert units, especially not the elite ones. War makes strong bonds that are not easily broken. Largely by luck, I found out an old XO of mine was leading a detachment on maneuvers, practicing desert warfare on Tatooine. She was more than happy to lend me two squads of his men."
Revan thought for a moment.
"Lieutenant Danic. It was Danic, was it not?"
Sato nodded and smiled.
"Your memory serves you well. Yes, it was Danic, although she has advanced somewhat in rank since you saw her last. But you have not told me how you came to be on this backwater world, my lord."
Revan leaned back and took a sip of his Corellian ale.
"Unfortunately, unlike yours, mine is a long and somewhat complicated tale. Are you sure you wish to hear it?"
"Of course, my lord."
Revan smiled and looked down at Bastila, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. The tranquilizer had made her woozy, and she had barely regained consciousness before drifting off again. He tenderly brushed a few strands of long brown hair from her face.
"It mostly involves this little one."
It took Revan several hours to relay his tale to his former officer. As was his way, Sato pressed him for details in everything, just as he'd always pressed him for details before every mission and assignment. The gruff veteran hadn't seemed very surprised by Revan's travels, nor had he been surprised by Revan's lingering resentment towards the Jedi and the Republic leadership.
"You never were one to 'do things by the book', Lord Revan."
Revan shook his head.
"No, I suppose I'm not. But I have one request of you, Sato."
"Yes, my lord. Simply speak it and it will be done."
"I would like you to dispense with the titles. I've never been comfortable with them."
"My lord?"
Revan smiled.
"Like that. Simply, 'Revan', will do, although in the presence of others, it would probably be best if you referred to the name I've been given by the Jedi Council."
"What would that be?"
"Lieutenant Qelas Stasia, 182nd SRG," Revan said mockingly. He was surprised as the normally composed Sato burst into laughter.
"I… I… I'm sorry, sir, but… do you realize what kind of significance that name holds?"
Revan frowned.
"No, I'm afraid I do not."
Finally managing to regain some semblance of control, Sato let one last chuckle escape before answering.
"Qelas Stasia was the only Republic officer to have ever been awarded for bravery and admonished for stupidity – in the same action. During the first Great Hyperspace War, he was supposed to lead an elite commando division on a reconnaissance mission, deep behind enemy lines. Something went wrong, and the Sith discovered him and his men. They retreated, of course, to their exfiltration point. He was separated from his men and was not present when the dropships picked them up. Everyone assumed him dead so they left. On the way out however, they spotted him, charging a Sith patrol single-handedly. He killed many of them before he himself was shot. His path to the exfiltration point was clear, he could have made it easily. Years later, after the war, they recovered his log. As it turns out, poor Qelas, when he was separated, went into a panic attack. He was reading his map upside down. When the dropships never showed up, he assumed the worst and decided to go out in a blaze of glory. He went out in a blaze, as he'd intended, albeit completely unnecessarily. Ever since, he has been held up as an example of foolish, unnecessary heroics. I am surprised you don't know. You always knew history so well, sir."
Revan gritted his teeth.
"Somebody on the Jedi Council doesn't appear to be very fond of you."
The two men sat in silence for a few moments as they finished their drinks and paid the barkeep.
"So where are you off to now, Sato?"
"I go where you order me to, Revan. I serve you now, just as I served you before."
"You don't have to. You're not my slave."
Sato smiled.
"No, I'm not. I serve you because I choose to. There is a greatness about you, Revan, that none can match. If you would allow me, I would like to assist you on your quest, although I'm not sure I will fit in well with your crew."
"Why not?"
Sato looked down at his feet for a moment before looking back up at Revan.
"I mean no offense but… a fourteen-year-old-girl, a Wookiee outcast, a past-his-prime Mandalorian, a washed-up Republic soldier, and a pair of droids are not much of an army. I have no doubt as to Lady Bastila's abilities, I have seen them firsthand, but other than her…"
Revan looked at Sato in shock.
"How did you know my crew?"
"You trained me well, sir," Sato said without missing a beat, "But if you won't take me on as part of your crew, I am not sure of what use I can be to you, Revan."
"On the contrary. You can do far more for me separated from me than you could ever do at my side."
"Revan?"
"Finding these Star Maps is an exercise in futility. If you can infiltrate Malak's ranks, you may be able to acquire information that could allow me to find the Star Forge far faster than would otherwise be possible."
Sato's dark eyes were filled with doubt.
"Malak would hardly let a man who once served as Revan's personal protector to rejoin his ranks."
Revan shook his head.
"Not under normal circumstances. But these are hardly normal circumstances. Malak has massive numbers, but after he betrayed me, he has no one left to command. You were a fine commander before I saddled you with the mundane responsibility of ensuring my personal safety."
Sato wasn't convinced.
"While I am flattered by your words, Revan, I still find it difficult to believe Malak would entrust anything to me."
"He would if you appealed to his ego. Malak is vulnerable and blind to those who flatter him well. Convince him you served me only because of my power, convince him he is far more powerful than I ever was, and he will give you the command of an entire fleet, if you ask it."
A smile slowly formed on Sato's face.
"I find myself more and more amazed at you each time we meet, my Lord Revan. Your cunning and your skills at subterfuge and guile clearly have not diminished since we last met. But how will I contact you?"
Revan winked at his former subordinate.
"Through standard channels, my friend, standard channels."
Sato returned the smile and the two shook hands. As Revan took the still sleeping Bastila in his arms, Sato laughed softly.
"I never took you for the type, Revan."
"What type?"
"The way you hold her, the gentleness with which you touch her… I never knew you to be the type who could find happiness in a woman."
Revan kissed Bastila on the cheek and she sighed happily, still away in dreamland.
"This is no ordinary woman," Revan said with a smile.
"I can tell," Sato said, shaking his head.
"What do you mean by that?"
"It takes much more than a pretty face to make the great Revan swoon like a teenage boy. She makes you happy, Revan, don't let her go. True happiness is something not many men are blessed with before they die."