All had been in agreement when Meetra decreed that the Ebon Hawk and her crew would lay low in the uninhabited rolling plains of Dantooine until Bao-dur recovered from the concussion he had sustained on Telos, and T3 received some much needed repairs. It was a convenient excuse to buy the exiled Jedi some much needed time to put her feet properly under her again.

Her unexpected meeting with Atris had fully unbalanced every modicum of stability she had worked so hard to cultivate within her up until this point. Even as she spoke to her old friend she told herself that all that had happened before was inconsequential to the here and now, that she cared little about Atris' animosity towards her, in fact she could barely blame her. Meetra was still technically exiled. Blundering back into Republic space was a circumstance that was bound to have negative repercussions. She understood completely why Atris spoke to her in a tone of disdain and loathing, for it was rooted partly in jealousy, and partly surprise that Meetra would even dare to come near Telos again. Meetra understood. She accepted it. It was no big deal.

The dent her boot had left in the durasteel under the navicomputer told a different story, however.

Exile had been incredibly convenient, despite the negative connotation that went with the description. In exile, she had been free to visit worlds she had never even dreamed of before, see things she didn't even fathom could possibly exist, gotten to know people who cared to know her simply for her own virtues, and not for the reason that she was a Jedi. She never had to tell the horror stories, she never had to talk about the decisions she made, nor apologize to the fathers and mothers and sons who she murdered.

Exile, in and of itself turned out over the years to be a wonderfully liberating experience and she had never once dreamed she would be facing what she was today. It struck her as uncomfortably ironic that when she had returned from the war, prepared to accept full responsibility for her actions, she was chastised for them, but never really made to face the consequences, yet now she was dragged into a world of, "But why?"

She never thought she'd be face to face with her childhood best friend, still scrambling for an explanation like she was the day she was condemned. She never thought she would have to witness, firsthand what had happened to Telos at the hands of her other dear friends in her absence.

That alone raised other questions; would she have been able to stop Revan and… Malak?

"Malak." She said the name out loud, testing its feel in her mouth. It felt completely improper and wrong. Alek was his name, and he was as dear to her as Revan had been. Revan had always been the thinker, constantly full of questions and ideas and dreams… and arguments. Alek had always been the one to get the job done. And as Meetra struggled to remember exactly where in the equation she fit in, she realized that at the end of the day, she was probably not a very good friend.

Atris, Revan, Alek. All of them had such faith in her over the years, they supported her, helped her grow, and she in turn did the same things in return… for a time. Until, for all three very different relationships and circumstances, and different reasons that she constructed from dust and imagination in her own mind, she decided the loyalty no longer mattered.

And all of those masters that used to "hmmm" and "ahhhh" and puzzle over this talent she had for forming bonds with others… how wrong they were. As far as Meetra was concerned, the real mystery involving these bonds was the bleed through that happened when she inevitably severed them.

And Force be damned, where was she now? In the exact same predicament, forging these bonds with those who travelled with her: Her bond with Kreia may very well be fatal, it went that deep, and although it relieved her that Kreia seemed to disagree with her often and question almost every decision she made, she still didn't like the fact that she seemed to have no words for anybody else. And Atton, well, what was she supposed to do? Lock herself in a cargo container and never talk to him for fear of doing exactly what she had already done to nearly everyone else who had the misfortune of getting caught up in the hurricane that was her life? She could see it already; oh hey, thanks for getting me out of some rough scrapes, and being actually a quite interesting person who I can have good times with when someone isn't trying to disintegrate us, but you know, I really should be going now. I've found a reason to justify it to myself, but that doesn't matter much right in the long run. It is what it is. So anyway… thanks, I had fun.

Bao-dur even, although she hadn't as yet had much time to speak with him… how far back did that bond go? Just the way he looked at her suggested that he had some sort of underlying… desire, for what, she couldn't say yet.

She sighed and dug around in the pocket of her utility belt, withdrawing a small carved stone whistle.

"I wonder if this'll work…" she mused, bring the whistle to her lips and emitting a short, sharp breath. The shrill sound echoed out over the plains and faded away, carried by the dry prairie wind until silence fell once more. Her hand fell back to her side and she gazed across the golden foothills; this side of the planet had been more or less untouched by the Sith bombardment, bearing hardly any craters or signs of destruction. It had been for the most part, wilderness before save for a few farm settlements strewn across the landscape. But by the looks of it, her call went unanswered. The pack that had lived near the enclave was likely destroyed during the bombing. It had been years. Even if they lived, they would have probably forgotten her by now.

It was worth a try.

She tucked the whistle back in her belt and continued trudging back to the ship, her mind no lighter than it had been when she had left early that morning. The light was verging on dusky now.

She had been digging around in the pocket of her jacket for a cigarra when she heard the first growl. Her head snapped up and she glanced side to side quickly. She could see the Ebon Hawk from where she was; a distant blot, cutting a shape through the twilight. There was another snap, accompanied by a bark. She looked behind her to see a large four legged figure trotting towards her, up the hill. She squinted in the dim ochre light, her hand held still above her blaster. That hand fell to her side when she glimpsed the creature loping directly towards her.

"Malifecus?"

She was answered by two enormous paws planting themselves on her shoulders and shoving her to the ground. All around her now there were yips and howls as a wet, leathery nose probed her face suspiciously. She stayed completely still, offering no resistance: She knew this hound. He would remember her too.

She groaned uncomfortably at the weight pressing down on her chest, but she didn't struggle until the Kath hound's investigation was complete. With a final and enormous snort of air that blew her hair back, he removed his paws from her chest and stood by her head, tail wagging.

"I sure am glad you're still alive." She said, crawling to her feet and brushing some dried grass from her pants. "I thought for a minute I was all alone." She smiled at the Kath hound and held out a hand for him to sniff before he allowed her to scratch the top of his head. As much as she wanted to fall to her knees and embrace the enormous canine, she knew better: She hadn't so much as tamed them in her youth than earned their respect. They tolerated her, enjoyed the scraps of food she would smuggle out for them, and tussle with her, but by no means were these creatures tamed pets. She had named them, back when she was still a freckly adolescent, but only so she could remember how to tell them apart. There was Maleficus, the alpha male with black paws and ears, Mandalore, the younger male who was always trying to best Maleficus, and… and, Molly, the huntress. She was tall and sleek and a beautiful auburn colour. She had been little more than a pup when Meetra still lived on Dantooine. Meetra looked around, trying to spot the other two familiar hounds, but was interrupted by a paw gently swatting her across the thigh.

"Well, would you look at that." She smiled, watching as the hunting queen of the pack appeared from behind a Blba tree, flanked by a number of pups. Her nose was pressed to the ground, and her tail was between her legs as she glared up at Meetra, trying to judge whether she was friend of foe. "No, no… it's okay." She said soothingly, "I came out here just to find you, so I thought I should bring something." She dug around in her satchel a little and pulled out a hunk of Iriaz meat that was left over from her lunch that day. She threw it to Molly and the hound sniffed it suspiciously for a few moments before backing away and letting her pups at it.

"Yeah, I brought more." She laughed, pulling out another steak when another wet nose bumped into her wrist. The hound next to her was a lovely silver shade, with deep brown eyes. "Wouldn't be right if Mandalore wasn't around, hey?" She took up some grass on the earthy incline, hucking pieces of Iriaz over the field, watching as the hounds chased it down and devoured it happily. Something about the fact that the pack that she knew as a youngling was safe and healthy made her insanely happy. Molly had pups, Malifecus had become a capable leader and kept the pack alive, despite the destruction of much of the planet, and Mandalore seemed to have found a good balance within the society, no longer appearing to be as neurotic and unpredictable as he had been when Meetra knew him best.

And they remembered her.

They didn't try to eat her. They didn't judge her for the choices she'd made in the war; they had no idea. All they knew was that this two-legged thing had come back after a long time, and they remembered that she would feed them, and fight with them, and treat them with respect. She could wrestle Malifecus into submission without any of her fancy laser-sticks or fire-cannons and that was enough for them. Fearless and determined was what she had been as a child, and to approach a Kath pack was a mighty gutsy thing to do. It was the definition of what her talent for bonding should have been: She didn't want to kill them. She didn't want to help them or be a part of their pack. She just wanted to know them. She smiled quietly to herself as a pup tumbled over her outstretched legs, searching for more meat. She gave its downy little tail a little tug and handed it a shin, laughing in earnest as she watched the tiny beast try and carry away the limb that was twice its size. The laugh was driven from her violently when she was tackled to the ground by sturdy paws. She picked herself up, sitting back on her ankles as she saw Malifecus pacing in front of her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Oh I see, it has been awhile, hasn't it? You've gotten big. I don't know if I can win anymore." She crowed with laughter and launched herself at the alpha male, catching him around the middle and rolling down the hill, a mess of legs and limbs. The huge animal flung himself a safe distance from her before charging at her again, snapping at the looser part of her clothing with care one would not anticipate from such an animal. "Oh-ho-ho!" Meetra laughed, placing her hands on either side of his front flanks and taking them both to the ground again. "Tough man here! Gotta protect your honour!" Malifecus snarled and growled and struggled and squirmed as he and Meetra chased one another across the grassland, tackling and charging, hooting and howling. Meetra laughed harder the more the battle progressed, absolutely elated for reasons she couldn't even begin to articulate.

She was in complete stitches, unable to draw full breaths, partly for exhaustion and partly for the fact that she hadn't stopped laughing for a good ten minutes.

"Alright, alright. You got me. I-I can't ahhhh-" She dissolved into another bout of hysterical laughter but it didn't last long. The gleeful howls and chatter from the pack turned to legitimate defence as hackles all rose simultaneously at the blaster fire that suddenly rained down the hill. Night had fallen by this time, and Meetra scrambled to her feet without a thought, sprinting up the steep hill towards the source of the fire, even though darkness provided her a very obvious disadvantage.

"Hey!" She bellowed, unclipping her blaster as she ran. She looked behind her to see the pack scattering back into the trees and her fury was compounded. "Hey, whoever you are, you better stop firing like a drunk mercenary before things get really unpleasant!" She crested the hill and put her blaster by her cheek, illuminating the shooter with her utility light. "Atton?"

He lowered the hand he had brought up to block the suddenly bright light and blinked a few times before lowering his gun as well. "I thought it was you."

"Is this normally how you greet people you think you know?" She snapped, holstering her blaster.

"I heard them howling and barking like they'd made a kill. I went out for a smoke and I heard it, and I thought you were in danger… I knew you were out here."

"Think!" Meetra hissed. "Next time, fracking think, Atton! Instead of just blazing in with guns firing and assumptions already made!" Her words came out louder and with far more anger than she had intended them to.

"Hey, I did think! As far as I know, anytime there's a noisy group of carnivores around making a racket, something is either dead, or dying. What would you have me do? Just shrug and assume the worst and get on with what I was doing?"

"I would certainly have you not take such arrogant liberties." Meetra retorted.

"Yeah well maybe before you frack off for an entire day in the middle of nowhere, you should enlighten people to the fact that you're best buds with a pack of bloodthirsty animals." He holstered his own gun and glared at Meetra. "Don't make the mistake, doll. I won't come to your rescue again unwarranted."

Meetra shook her head, all of her frustration and exasperation pent up and unable to mask any longer. "Why are you even still here?"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"No, it's a serious question. Why are you here? We could have dropped you off at Khoonda before coming out here. We could have even spared the fuel to drop you off at Citadel Station before we left Telos so you could catch a transport."

"Don't you concern yourself with my time, Surik. I'll be gone when I decide to be gone." He sneered at her, full of arrogance and condescension. "I can't see it being long. You obviously don't need me around."

She had already formed the sentence in her head; I need you like a whore needs crabs. But she couldn't say the words. Instead, a completely different phrase fell from her lips.

"I'm sorry." She said. "The hounds… we go way back. I should have told you. I could see where the entire… violently wrestling in the grass thing could be misconstrued as attack." She smiled a little, "You should have seen Master Kavar when he found out about them when I was still a padawan. He headed the rescue team and couldn't wrap his head around a twelve year old girl playing tag with a pack of Kath hounds rather than being devoured by them… I think that's the angriest he ever was at me."

"In that case, I'm sorry I scared them off." He relented.

Meetra dismissed the apology. "Like I said, it wasn't the first time. They'll be back. They know me. I was actually going to head back fairly soon anyway, it'll be good to have company on the walk back."

"You must be pretty tired, hey? Being out here all day…"

The little bit of hope in Atton's voice did not go un-noticed by Meetra.

"I'll be up for awhile yet. Care for a drink or two?" She smiled.