Lightsaber – Repair work – A gift
"You're sure about this?" Juhani asked again.
Bastila nodded, even as her left hand instinctively, unconsciously, moved reflexively down her left side to reassuringly touch the hilt.
And it still was disconcerting, as keenly jarring now as the first time it had happened, when that hand felt nothing. For that hilt now hung so unfamiliarly on the right side of her belt, all the easier to draw quickly and smoothly across her body with her left hand.
Only now, living with the workarounds required of her by the stubborn injuries which responded to neither Force nor kolto, did she realize just how frequently her left hand unconsciously sought the reassuring touch of her lightsaber hilt. Especially under moments of stress or anxiety, she found her left hand vainly clutching air by her side.
She unhooked her lightsaber, clenched her teeth, and quietly handed it over to the Cathar.
Accepting it with both hands, Juhani carefully placed it onto the table in front of her.
Bastila forced her hand to stay down by her side, watching intently over the Cathar's shoulder as Juhani worked the unfamiliar contacts and clasps. They'd gone over the procedures verbally before, but it was all she could do to keep her mouth closed and not offer advice and direction as Juhani tentatively disassembled the lightsaber.
Each lightsaber was unique, individually crafted by its owner, and scrupulously and meticulously maintained. Once obtained as a Padawan, it would remain by its owner's side unto death, and oftentimes after. She knew each contour and contusion on that slim, smooth hilt by heart, could do anything with it as easily and automatically as she could breathe or walk. It truly was an extension of her own arms, an integral part of her own self-identity. To see another's hands on it, fumbling unfamiliarly with the hard points, doing things in a different order, caressing the burnished surface...
The urge to raise her hand, to touch that familiar hilt, was so strong that she had to force herself to turn away, walk away, and sit in a chair. I'm going to sit here, and not move! she thought firmly to herself. She knows what she's doing.
Trying to distract herself, she looked around. Juhani's room was an exact duplicate of Bastila's, sans the scattered piles of cargo containers. The Cathar had laid out a simple blanket on the floor at the foot of her bed, to serve as her meditation area. She'd pulled down the built-in fold-up table out of the wall to serve as a makeshift workbench. She'd unlocked the chair which normally sat directly in front of the table and moved it against the wall. Sitting on this chair, Bastila could see Juhani's face in profile, as the Cathar stood over the table, working on Bastila's lightsaber.
Despite the smallness of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine, she hadn't really known Juhani before her arrival there with Enosh and the others from Taris. Even now, despite all their travels together over the past few weeks, she didn't really know much about the Cathar. They'd had a few discussions, and she'd grown to respect Juhani's abilities in a fight. But there'd always seemed to be a distance between them... and she couldn't put it solely down to normal Jedi reserve.
"Why the double-blade?" Juhani asked, her eyes studying the hilt before her.
"The quarterstaff had always been one my favorites, during weapons training," she replied. She recalled the disbelief her sparring partners usually displayed, when first they'd faced the little girl with the long staff. Usually quickly followed by grudging respect after she'd thumped them around a bit. "It just seemed a natural choice, when I made Padawan."
There'd been whispers, about how the double-blade was more suited for a Sith than a Jedi, when she'd made her choice. She'd ignored them, of course; double wielders faced no such similar disapprobation about their choice, so why focus so on a double-blade?
But perhaps they were right. Perhaps there was something to it, after all...
"So," Juhani said, eyes intently focused on the task at hand, "how did the debriefing go?"
"Nothing extraordinary," she replied, remembering the Lieutenant's request for confidentiality. "They were looking for something specific, but I don't think I provided them much in that regard."
The whole affair had served little purpose, save remind her of the unpleasantness of the past. As if I needed any more reminders!
Reminders...
"I never thanked you, Juhani."
The Cathar arched an eyebrow.
"Mission told me," she continued. "About what happened on the Star Forge."
Juhani smiled slightly. "She is always one for small talk, that little one. It was nothing."
"It most certainly was not." She'd sent bolts of lightning streaking into Juhani's body, back at the Temple, just a few days ago. Still smells slightly undercooked, wouldn't you say? she'd sneered at Jolee after the enraged Jedi had warded her off the unconscious Cathar. "How were you to know where my allegiances lay at that moment?"
Juhani darted her eyes briefly in her direction, then shrugged and returned to her work. "Revan had spared you. That was answer enough for me."
She remembered the throbbing pain in her shoulder, beating in time with her heart, as she knelt on that cold metal floor. Waiting for the end.
She touched again that memory of the dejected misery of what should have been her final moments. And with that granted perspective, she could finally find the courage to give voice to the question that had whispered shyly in her mind when first she'd seen Juhani aboard the Fury.
"How... how do you deal with it?"
"Hmmmm?"
The first steps taken, she couldn't turn back now. "The... the guilt. The self-loathing, the unhappiness..."
Still hunched slightly over the desk, but ceasing her work, Juhani looked at her, a crooked half-grin on her lips, as Bastila's voice trailed off. "I thought you already knew all about that."
She cringed inside at the wry response. About what I expected. But I deserved that, I suppose. She thought back to their past conversations, before her fall. What a fool I was, offering such bland, empty, naive advice! Oh, I knew the theory well enough. I had all the answers to the questions she didn't ask of me, and was not afraid to offer them to her. And the pity I felt! The patronizing pity of one who empathizes but does not truly understand. And I thought myself truly ready for Knighthood?
"That was unfair of me," Juhani said, perhaps seeing a reaction on Bastila's face. "You are different now."
Bastila said nothing, sensing something in the Cathar's eyes, her voice, that seemed... different. I am not the only one venturing forth on uncertain paths here...
"Acknowledgement," Juahni continued, apparently in response to Bastila's original question. "Accept the past, instead of wishing it different. Focus on the failings within, rather than external factors. Only by identifying that which led you astray in the past, can you steer clear of the problems of the future. And that is what you must focus on—the future."
Juhani smiled slightly. "I apologize for my long-windedness. I do not mean to lecture, but I have given this matter a lot of thought."
"No, no. Please, continue," Bastila urged, trying to draw the normally taciturn Cathar out.
"One thing more I've noticed," Juhani continued. "In the past, I would always try to rationalize problems away. Always turn my face away from that within, which I did not like. But no more. I do not deceive myself like this, anymore.
"We spend so much time and energy, deceiving ourselves about our true feelings, our true motivations, when simple acceptance would serve us so much better." She sighed softly. "Such a simple thought, but it has taken me so long to arrive at it."
Juhani's words were like an indictment, and she found herself nodding wearily inside at their sad truth. So much time and energy...
Bastila was not the only one who'd taken those words to heart. She could see a struggle playing out within the Cathar's eyes, as if she were contemplating saying more.
"What is it, Juhani?"
The struggle resolved itself, and Juhani's eyes hardened.
"I was jealous of you, Bastila," she said, simply, directly.
The Cathar's eyes, which had speared Bastila's at this confession, suddenly faltered, unable to maintain contact.
"And when you'd fallen..." Juhani continued, her eyes now distant, "I have to admit that some small part of me... felt a sense of satisfaction that you had finally failed. Finally." A sharp grin emerged on her face, one Bastila recognized disturbingly as wont to appear in the midst of heated battle. "The perfect young Jedi, the one always thrown up in the face of us Apprentices as an exemplar to follow, the shining contrast to Revan and Malak. Stumbled. Fallen."
Perfect? She wanted to laugh in incredulous disbelief that anyone would think that. All the anguish, all the doubts and fears that have gnawed away inside of me since this terrible war started... and that is the impression I conveyed to others?
But any protestations she may have wanted to make died in her throat. Juhani's voice had grown strained, intense, and Bastila didn't dare risk speaking, worrying about the tension she could sense in the Cathar's body.
At that moment, though, a the Cathar's eyes touched hers, and her worries dissipated. For all Bastila could see reflected in those eyes now was sadness.
"The Galaxy around us in turmoil," Juhani said softly. "Sith marching through the ruins of the Enclave on Dantooine... and I secretly crowed about the fall of one of our strongest allies out of small-minded jealousy. Petty. So very petty." Juhani smiled wistfully to herself. "And thus I know that my journey is never-ending."
"Thank you," Bastila said quietly, finally finding her voice.
Juhani nodded in acknowledgment, then returned to the task at hand.
"I am ready for the crystals," Juhani said, showing Bastila the two blood-red crystals she'd pulled from her lightsaber.
Rising from her chair, Bastila reached down into her belt pouch for her two yellow crystals. But instead of two crystals, she felt... three?
She pulled them all out to look... and saw a beautiful white crystal sparkling in between her two yellow crystals.
A Krayt dragon pearl! But how...?
Enosh! He must have slipped this in while I was asleep!
It had been part of the treasure they'd received from the Krayt dragon's den, back on Tatooine. She'd hardly noticed it at the time, so distracted had she been by finding her father's holocron journal in the back of that dank cavern. She'd assumed he'd tuned it to work with his lightsaber; it was a very powerful artifact, after all. Or sold it long ago, bowing to the enthused urgings of Mission, their resident rare gem appraiser.
But he saved it. He saved it for me...
"Why did you do it?" Juhani asked.
"Hmmmm?"
She nodded toward the sparkling white crystal in her palm. "Why did you leave?"
Me? Leave? Or did he not join me?
"I had no choice in the matter. Neither did he." She tried to ignore the doubts lingering in the shadows of her mind. He understands. He understands. What I felt through our bond, this rarest of crystals in my palm... he understands. I need to do this. I can't be true to myself... learn to... learn to stand myself again, look at the mirror without feeling the urge to turn away, without seeing this through.
And it's not through. Malak may be gone, the Star Forge may be gone... but it is not through. We must remain ever vigilant. Some things will always be bigger than the two of us.
"There is always a choice."
She smiled slightly. "You sound like Master Vandar more and more, Juhani."
"Practicing for my future as Master Juhani, perhaps," grinned the Cathar. But then her eyes turned serious. "Why return?"
Return? To the Jedi?
"Why did you?" she asked instead.
Juhani looked at her for a long moment, then simply nodded.
"Yes, I thought so," Bastila said, giving her two yellow crystals to Juhani.
It is in our blood.
She put the Krayt dragon pearl back into her pouch, to keep it safe.
With a flick of the switch, Juhani ignited Bastila's lightsaber.
The familiar hue of the yellow beams warmed her heart more than she thought possible.
"It is a beautiful weapon," Juhani murmured, studying it in detail, slowly spinning it. She nodded. "Very well-balanced."
Juhani deactivated it, then twisted the ends in opposite directions and pulled. Bastila's lightsaber hilt split into two.
"My thanks," she said, accepting the two hilts from Juhani. And thus begins the next step. A single blade in my off-hand... the next task at hand to overcome.
Before the Cathar could respond, the monitor built into the wall above the fold-out table buzzed with an incoming transmission.
"Yes?" Juhani asked.
The monitor activated at the sound of her voice, revealing the image of Carth.
"Juhani. Oh Bastila, good, you're there, too. We're all wanted down in Admiral Dodonna's conference room."
"What's going on?" Bastila asked.
"I don't know. But it's urgent. All the top brass will be there."