Between holding Bastila firmly in his grasp and keeping pace with the old hermit who moved through the forest with the speed of a man half his age, Penn was winded by the time Jolee finally came to a stop. "Here she is," Jolee motioned to a round, earthen structure camouflaged by the piles of leaves and tall grass surrounding it. If not for the smoke billowing from the rickety chimney poking out of the thatch roof, Penn doubted he would've noticed the home.

"It's … lovely," Bastila smiled unconvincingly in an effort to thaw her already icy relationship with Jolee, though her attempt fell flat.

"It's a yurt," he narrowed his black-brown eyes, clearly skeptical of the sincerity behind her compliment. "Or a jurta if you're from Alderaan. Those artsy folks just have to be different. It's not much to look at, but it's home. Used to be able to move her all around - take her wherever the hell I felt like moving for the day - but then I got comfortable and the grass grew up the side about seventeen years ago or so, and now, I'm stuck," Jolee grumbled, his voice trailing before he began muttering about his firewood stocks' need for replenishment.

For a moment, Penn and Bastila glanced at one another, wordlessly debating as to what course of action they should take. Finally, Penn took the reins. "So," he cleared his throat. "Now that we're here, could we discuss -"

"Why you're down here," Jolee finished Penn's thought. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can tell you're itching to talk about it, so spit it out, son."

Although Penn felt Jolee was trustworthy and even felt a strange sense of attachment to the old man, he wasn't willing to reveal the extent of their business in the Shadowlands. At least, not yet. Instead, he took a more general approach. "We're looking for an old machine," Penn stated as he lowered Bastila to her feet, freeing his hands to assist in his description of the Star Map. "It'd be about ye high and have four arms that unfold like so. Have you seen anything like that?"

After stroking his silvery goatee for a few seconds in silence, Jolee nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

"Where is it?" Bastila stepped forward, doing little to hide the excitement in her wide eyes.

"Around," Jolee answered vaguely, testing Penn's already worn patience.

"Alright," Penn traced his fingers along his lips in frustration, exhausted from the incredibly long stretch of time since he'd last slept. "We'll be out of your hai-" he paused as he looked at Jolee's shining scalp, recognizing the irony of the statement before shaking his head and pressing forward with his original thought. "We'll be out of your hair in a minute, but could you give us a little more information than that?"

"South," Jolee gestured in the direction Penn and Bastila had been traveling before their run-in with the shapeshifter sidetracked their quest.

Growing weary of the old hermit's obscure responses, Penn breathed deep as he inched forward to rest his hand on Bastila's shoulder, drawing from her seemingly endless supply of patience toward the Shadowlands dweller. "Is there anything more you can tell us?"

Finally, Penn got the answers he'd been hoping for. "Go south for about eight miles," Jolee began, suddenly forthcoming with the information Penn had been trying to coax out of him. "When you see an orange Czerka marker tied to a tree, head east. You'll walk that way for about, oh, I'd say half a mile or so before you'll see a curtain of vines. Push 'em to the side and it's there. Lots of webs, but you can just brush them off."

A wide smile crossed Penn's lips as he looked to Bastila, who seemed equally pleased. "Thank you," Penn replied as he applied a little pressure to Bastila's shoulder, inaudibly telling her to follow his lead. "You've been a great help but unfortunately, we've got to get going," he motioned over his shoulder as he began backing away. "We're on a bit of a time crunch. Nice meeting you." As the couple turned to travel in the direction Jolee had pinpointed, the old man cleared his throat.

"Did I forget to mention there's a force field blocking your way?" he mused, halting their steps. "Because there is."

"Dammit," Bastila groaned beneath her breath, stunning Penn. While the word 'dammit' seemed to be a staple of his lexicon, swearing of any sort wasn't Bastila-like at all. The fact that she'd not only sworn, but used the phrase he favored was evidence of how just much time the couple had spent together. Despite his annoyance, it brought on a fleeting smile and a renewed sense of patience about in Penn.

"But I'm guessing you know a way around it, don't you?" Penn snorted as he turned, tuning into the way Jolee operated.

"Smart," Jolee nodded. "Just like your -" The old man stopped the moment his eyes connected with Bastila. "Bah. Nevermind. Tell you what - I'll let you know how to get around it in exchange for a little favor," he shifted his sights to Penn, who stayed silent, notifying Jolee he was awaiting an offer. "There are some Czerka folk around here poaching and such. Now, I'm no bleeding heart, but they'll kill off everything in the Shadowlands to make a few credits and it's getting under my skin. They don't respect this place and the animals can't defend themselves. You go deal with them while I take care of her leg. Actually," he crinkled his nose, "come here, son. You're gonna scare people running around looking like you do."

Ever so cautiously, Penn approached the hermit's outstretched arms. Without seeking permission, Jolee pressed his hands against Penn's cheeks and healed him through the Force, shocking the two Jedi with his speed and power. "So are you going to take the deal or not?" Jolee asked as he tapped Penn's cheeks playfully. "Like you said, you're on a bit of a time crunch."

After glancing over his shoulder at Bastila who simply curled her lips inward, wordlessly acknowledging they had no other choice, Penn nodded. "Where are they?" he sighed in exasperation.

"Over that ridge," Jolee pointed north. "Just follow the smell of burning fuel and filthy greed."

"I'll take care of it," Penn promised as he walked to Bastila, leaning close to her ear. "I won't be long," he whispered, subtly kissing her cheek before hurrying to the Czerka campground.

Now alone, Bastila flashed a nervous smile at Jolee, but was dismayed to see his eyes narrowed in her direction. "You've got a lot of explaining to do, young lady," he growled as he turned to enter his yurt. "Do you need me to carry you too or do you think you can manage getting in?" Jolee asked coolly, propping the door open with his foot. Returning his fierce gaze, Bastila's lips formed into a tight line as she limped defiantly into the circular home, trying to mask the excruciating pain brought on by each step.

As she stepped inside, Bastila was shocked to find the yurt was clean and cozy, bathed in a warm, pale yellow glow courtesy of several lamps stationed about the home. Thin beams of mahogany stained wood crisscrossed along the canvas walls in a lattice pattern, extending to the vaulted ceiling. Threadbare rugs of varying size and shape covered the knotted wood floorboards, as shiny as they were creaky. Faded and mismatched furniture of every style and hue populated the room, yet somehow it all worked together, making for a cohesive, surprisingly well-decorated space. "Take a seat," Jolee motioned to a plush chaise lounge draped with a reddish fur pelt near the yurt's center as he headed toward the fireplace, a spoon in hand. For a moment, he stirred a kettle of sweet smelling stew hanging in the hearth before looking over his shoulder at Bastila. "How'd you get that blaster burn, young lady?"

"Trying to defend a friend from Mandalorians," Bastila replied quietly, scooting herself onto the low couch, carefully extending her legs across the cushion. "Were you a Jedi?"

"Was, yeah," Jolee nodded, grabbing a small wooden bowl from a nearby table before fumbling through a hutch crammed with vials and boxed herbs. "But I don't want to talk about it."

Ignoring the finality in Jolee's tone, Bastila sat up a little straighter, readying herself to discuss the matter further - distancing one's self from the Order was something she couldn't quite fathom. "Why did you leave?" she asked, looking on as he plucked a bottle of burnt orange liquid and a handful of purple-tipped leaves from the cabinet.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," Jolee hissed as he began mashing the leafy herb into the bowl with his bony fist. "Open up that trunk and change into the green robe at the top. I can't clean out that burn or bite with your pants on."

Though initially reluctant, Bastila nodded, pushed herself to the edge of the lounge and opened the trunk which doubled as a caffa table. Just as Jolee said, there was a silky midnight green robe resting at the top, similar to her own though unlike hers, it was monogrammed, emblazoned with the name 'Nayama' in gold lettering. Although she knew it was rude, Bastila couldn't help herself - the curiosity of knowing more about the odd hermit took over. After glancing over her shoulder to ensure her host was still preoccupied preparing her medication, Bastila began sifting through the trunk stuffed with clothing.

Most of the items belonged to a woman, though there were several outfits near the bottom belonging to children - some meant for a boy and others that had clearly never been used, meant for a girl. As she lifted a tiny blue onesie, Jolee snatched it from her hands, shoved it into the trunk and slammed the lid shut, nearly smashing her fingers. "Is being nosy part of the Order's curriculum these days?" he growled. "Go change."

Embarrassed that her snooping hadn't been as covert as she'd hoped, Bastila lifted herself off the lounge, limped behind a folding screen and changed into the short robe. "Whose clothing is in that trunk?" she asked as she lumbered back to the sofa, her dirty clothing folded in hand.

"Sit down," Jolee sighed, shaking his head as he dipped a cloth into the bowl. Once Bastila sat and extended her leg, he spoke again. "I'll answer that question once you explain why you're trouncing around Kashyyyk with Revan. This'll hurt a bit."

Despite Jolee's warning, Bastila felt no pain when he pressed the acidic-soaked cloth onto her wound - only horror. "I - you, no," she stammered, hoping she could confuse Jolee's elderly mind into believing her lie. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. His name is Penn Thayer. He's a former Republic scout who served on the Endar Sp-"

"Bull shit," he interrupted. "I've never met a Jedi who's good at lying, but you've got to be the worst by far, young lady. I know Revan and that's him. And even if I didn't know him, I'd still know because I can feel the Force around him. Last time I felt something like that was when I was near his mother."

"His mother?" Bastila let out an involuntary gasp, realizing the old man healing her leg was far sharper than he initially appeared. Neither she nor the Council knew much of anything about Revan's life before the Order, much less the identity of his mother, but right now, she couldn't focus on the mystery of his past unfolding before her eyes. She needed to focus on the present. "Jolee, you cannot tell him," she pleaded, disregarding the desperation in her voice. "It'll ruin any chance we have of finding the Star Forge and saving the galaxy. Please."

"Star Forge?" the hermit snorted. "That doesn't sound dangerous. Sounds more like some damn club where you hooligans get hopped up on spices and do things you'll regret in the back room."

Ignoring his attempts at levity, Bastila's jaw began quivering with fear. She knew Penn well enough to know he'd never leave the mission unfinished even if he learned his true identity - deep down, she was afraid for herself. Afraid that Penn would no longer love her once he learned of the web of lies she'd had a hand in spinning. Though she knew the Council would deem her choice selfish - and rightly so - the fear of losing Penn fueled her. "Jolee, this may be the most important mission in history. Ple-"

"You kids always think the war you're fighting or the mission you're a part of is the most important in history just because you're in it," Jolee interjected. "There'll be wars and missions after you, just like there were wars and missions before you."

"Jolee, please," Bastila grabbed his hands from her wound to further emphasize her plea. "Please, do not tell him. I'm begging you. Please."

With narrowed eyes, Jolee looked deep into Bastila's terror-filled gaze before grunting. "Fine. I won't tell him. But you should. He's a good kid - or, at least he was. He deserves the truth."

"Thank you," Bastila exhaled, her rigid body easing, though her relaxation allowed her once numb self to feel the burning sensation of the medicine. In truth, Bastila did agree with him - Penn deserved her honesty and to know of who he was, but the time wasn't now. Besides, if anyone was going to tell him, it would be her, not some hermit whom they'd met on a chance encounter.

"So how'd you two hook up?" Jolee interrupted her thoughts.

Immediately, Bastila's pale face transformed into a bright shade of red. "I beg your pardon?"

"As in how did you two start working together?" he cocked a suspicious brow, taking note of her sudden embarrassment.

"Oh," she nodded, somewhat surprised that her mind focused on the physical nature of her increasingly complicated relationship with Penn. "Right. I was the leader of the strike team tasked with defeating Darth Revan. He was at the point of death when I saved his wounded mind and body through the Force. To cut a long story short, we eventually found ourselves on Dantooine and were sent on a mission to find the Star Maps across the galaxy so we can find the Star Forge, which brings us to the here and now."

"And where might these Star Maps be hiding?"

"Dantooine, Tatooine, here on Kashyyyk," Bastila motioned to the general area. "Manaan and Korriban."

"Interesting," Jolee's voice trailed as he laid his hand on her leg, finishing her healing through the Force. "So at what point did falling in love with him become part of the plan?" When Bastila began shaking her head, Jolee lifted his hand and wagged his finger in her face as one might with a child. "And don't even try lying to me, young lady. I may be old, but I'm not blind or stupid."

Conceding there was no escape from this line of questioning, Bastila hung her head low - if a man who wasn't even a full-fledged Jedi could see her love for Penn, surely there was no chance of hiding it from the Council upon their return to Dantooine. "It was never part of the plan," she whispered into her lap, choosing to omit just how long she'd been in love with him. "It just happened. I know it's wrong, but -"

"There's nothing wrong with love," Jolee corrected, his grouchy tone softening. "Passion that you can't control is where you get into trouble. Love is powerful and can save you. Brings you back from the darkest of places when everything is lost. The damn Council should teach you how to control yourself when you're in love instead of preaching that it's wrong. Bah. Damnable idiots. They'll never learn. That's part of why I left the Order."

Realizing Jolee had lived through and made a decision about the dilemma she'd been wrestling with since she and Penn had declared their love for one another, the Bastila decided to draw upon his experience, hoping to receive a bit more clarity on the matter. "You left for love?" the Jedi asked quietly, glancing at the name embroidered into the borrowed robe.

"And for other reasons," he nodded.

"The woman you fell in love with - was this hers?" she smoothed the silky green fabric. "Does all of the clothing in that trunk belong to her? Nayama?"

At the mention of the name 'Nayama', Jolee's brows furrowed and his nostrils flared, alerting Bastila she'd overstepped her bounds. "This isn't storytime. And not that it's any of your damn business, but the boy's clothing belonged to your boyfriend. The other two are none of your concern."

"That clothing belonged to Pe-" Bastila paused to correct herself, absolutely dumbfounded. "Revan?"

"Yep," Jolee groaned, every joint in his body cracking as he pushed himself off his perch to stir the stew once more. "Closest thing I ever had to a son. Didn't have him terribly long, but he was a good kid. Always happy. Always smiling. Good traveler too. His only fault was that he always stole my caffa grinds and ate them like rock candy," he added with a laugh, obviously recalling happier times. "Hyper little thing. Helped me kick my caffa habit though. Suppose I owe him. Only drink tea these days. But I'm guessing you don't want to talk about this anymore since Revan's coming back."

Seconds later, Penn walked through the door, just as Jolee predicted. "All taken care of," he smiled, quickly moving to sit beside a shocked Bastila.

"How did you do that?" Bastila looked to Jolee, wondering what ability enabled him to know Penn was about to walk through the solid wood door.

"For a Jedi, you're not terribly observant, young lady," Jolee chuckled as he pointed to a tiny hexagonal window facing the path Penn had traveled. Evidenced by his sudden change in demeanor, it was clear Penn's presence brought about a lighter spirit in the old man, something Bastila was quite thankful for. "Son, go get some pillows and blankets for you and your girlfriend from that shelf," he looked to Penn. "She needs to rest that leg of hers. I'll pack up a few of my things, then we'll leave in the morning. It'll be lighter then and the stew'll be done."

"Did you say 'we'?" Penn asked in disbelief, wondering if something he or Bastila had said since their paths crossed could've been misconstrued as an invitation. "I don't mean to be rude, but why do you want to come along? You don't know either of us."

"What, you're afraid of an old man slowing you down?" Jolee barked, clearly offended. "Is that it?" Instead of replying, Penn sat in silence, waiting for the old man's true answer. "Fine," he sighed. "I'm tired of Kashyyyk. There's only so many trees and wookiees one can take before you need a change of scenery. And smell. Have you smelled the wookiees? Hygiene isn't high on their priority list. And I need to get off world so I can talk to someone who refuses to come here. Says she doesn't like wookiees because she's already got one she hates following her because of a life debt. Doesn't want to risk picking up another one. Besides," he paused, smiling wide at Bastila. "Your girlfriend here invited me. Didn't you, young lady?"

Although she had never invited Jolee and both knew he was hiding his truest reason for his desire to accompany them, Bastila knew she was trapped. "Yes," she nodded, taking a deep breath as Penn looked at her with disapproval. "Yes, I did."

"Then it's settled," Jolee jovially slapped his hands on his knees. "The three of us will get going in the morning. Make yourselves comfortable, but not too comfortable," he narrowed his eyes at Penn. "No sex under my roof. This place is too damn small for that."

With a nod of thanks and hiding his confusion as to why Jolee had adopted a fatherly tone, Penn found two pillows nearby - one small, one large. After ensuring Bastila was comfortable with the larger of the two, Penn placed his cushion on the floor space before her and rested his weary head. Minutes later, Jolee turned off the lights and stumbled to his bed, leaving the three in complete darkness, save for a few stray moonbeams streaming through the window.

Once Jolee began snoring ever-so loudly, Penn felt Bastila's hand brush his arm, to which he quickly lifted his head to be level with hers. "Are you alright?" he whispered groggily as she'd woken him from much needed sleep. "Is your leg still hurting?"

"I'm fine," she nervously bit her lip, pausing before continuing on. "The floor looks rather uncomfortable and cold. If you'd like, you could sleep up here ... beside me." Fearing how he might react to the proposal that - in her mind - bordered on indecent, Bastila hastily added qualifiers. "Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought since it's warmer up here than it is on the floor, it might make sense. I'd hate for you to catch cold when we have so much -"

"I'd love to," Penn interrupted, stifling a laugh at her justifications. Moving as quietly as possible, Penn hoisted himself onto the lounge and slipped beneath the covers beside Bastila, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she rested her head against his chest. "Thanks for sharing the tiny bed, babe," he smirked, conjuring memories of the ornery manner with which she'd spoken to him the first night they met. With a light kiss of her forehead, Penn closed his eyes, drifting into a blissful sleep though Bastila had too much on her mind to rest.

"Penn?" Bastila rubbed her hand in a circular motion across his chest, waking him yet again.

"Mhm," he replied, arching his aching back resulting in a chorus of low pops.

"It's strange to see you sleeping fully clothed," she stated quietly, stalling as she collected her true thoughts, though in all honesty, it was strange. Bastila hadn't realized just how much she enjoyed seeing him shirtless each night before bed until the option was no longer available.

"Yep," Penn yawned, closing his eyes yet again as he tightened his arm around her, drawing her body just a little closer to his. "Yep, yep, yep," his voice trailed.

"Penn?"

"Mmm," he groaned, a noticeable bit of tension in his tone.

"Earlier I told you I might let you kiss me later ... Now that it's later, perhaps we could indulge in a goodnight kiss?" she suggested sheepishly, still buying time to muster the courage to discuss matters of a more serious nature.

Though struggling to crack his tired eyelids, Penn smiled as he tilted her chin up and slightly back, molding his lips to hers in what was a little more sensual than a simple goodnight kiss, only broken by the sound of Jolee mumbling in his sleep. "Goodnight, babe," he whispered, closing his eyes for what he hoped would be the last time that evening.

"Penn?" Bastila nuzzled her face into his chest, finally gathering the courage to broach the topic of his past life - to see if he had any memories of Jolee. Or Nayama, wherever and whomever she may be. Or his mother, a woman whose identity Jolee was keeping close to his chest.

Instead of replying with words, Penn merely opened his bloodshot eyes, wordlessly alerting Bastila of the obvious - he was exhausted and needed to rest. Taking his cue and acknowledging that the best time to discuss such weighty topics wasn't when Penn was half asleep, Bastila nervously smiled, trekking a route she hadn't planned on traveling. "I love you."

The hint of aggravation brought on by Bastila's interruptions melted away the instant those three simple words crossed her lips. "I love you too," he smiled, taking one last glance at her grey eyes gleaming in the scarce moonlight before finally falling asleep.