Complexities

Bastila

Revan's return brought new complications to my regimen of self-abuse. The bond we shared was not as strong as before the events of the Star Forge, but it was still there, bleeding a hole in me that led to the Force I was trying so desperately to avoid.

We left the Rakata homeworld and were instantly barraged with communications from Republic ships. Whatever Dustil, Mission, and Zaalbar had rigged to disguise us seemed to be failing. In my estimation, someone at the Order or the Republic high command had simply put two and two together and finally come up with the right answer.

Our orders were to proceed immediately to Yavin 4, where the Jedi Council would decide our fate. I was relieved that we were returning to the safe haven of the Council. I could be protected in the enclave. Quarantined so that my despair could not pollute others, so that my weakness would not weaken the Order.

But until we reached that safe haven, I fed the darkness inside me with something well-aged, potent, and Mandalorian. As the Ebon Hawk brought us closer to Yavin, I knew my time with Canderous was coming to an end. I did not, however, expect him to be the one to end it.

He was in the swoop hangar, at the workbench, modifying some armor. I recognized the Mandalorian battle armor we had picked up on Kashyyyk. He did not look up.

"Canderous," I said.

He turned slowly. I reached up to pull him down to me.

He held me in his arms, but held me back. "Bastila," he said, his gruff, ashen voice even huskier than usual, "I can't."

I looked up at him, nameless dread taking the fear in my heart and turning it to panic. I never realized before, that his eyes aren't black, but a dark gray, and more expressive than I ever thought possible, betraying a range of emotions that, in my mind, Mandalorians were forbidden to experience.

"I can't be your punisher anymore, Bastila."

It became clear to me then. I am a menace. My arrogance cannot be trusted outside the safety of the Order, where they can control me, keep me from hurting myself or others with my foolishness.

I began to pack my few belongings in the starboard crew quarters. Revan walked into the room as I was nearly complete. "Bastila," she said.

"I am ready to go," I said, with a calm I didn't feel. But as I have said, I have always excelled at maintaining the necessary facade.

"I'm not ready for you to go, yet," she said, sitting down on my bunk, in the middle of my folded clothes.

I tightened my lips. She still vibrated with an exuberant charisma that I could not comprehend, and resented my own attraction to.

She shifted and pulled out the clothes. "Sorry," she said, re-folding them unevenly.

For once, I didn't make an issue of it. I merely took the clothing and put it in my pack.

"Do you think you'll miss everyone?" she asked.

"Of course I will," I said coolly. "But I imagine our paths will cross from time to time. If the Force wills it."

"Will you miss Mission?"

"I imagine she will move on to better things. Zaalbar has told me she's received requests for interviews from all the major holovid reporters."

"Will you miss Zaalbar?"

I looked at her, wondering where this was going. "I imagine he'll return to Kashyyyk to lead his people."

"Will you miss Carth?"

"Of course. Commander Onasi is responsible for much of the success of our mission. I've no doubt you noticed." I pulled my lightsaber out of the footlocker beneath the bed.

"I did," she said cheerfully. "And will you miss Canderous?"

The lightsaber clattered to the ground.

"I'm not stupid, Bastila," she said.

"I fail to see what business it is of yours whether or not I miss that Mandalorian."

"I'm not blind, either. But I wonder if you might be." She used the Force to bring my lightsaber to her hand.

"Please leave," I said stiffly. "My affairs are my business. Regardless, the Council dictates my movements from now on."

She rubbed a spot on the saber's metal housing with her sleeve. "Not until you answer one question for me." She folded her legs under her and showed no signs of moving.

"Oh, very well," I said impatiently.

"Why Canderous?"

My back teeth ground together. "I can't answer that," I said.

"Then I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine, I will." I shouldered my pack.

She flung out a hand and suddenly the pack became heavy. Too heavy. My limbs refused to move. "It is irresponsible to abuse the Force in such a frivolous manner."

"The Force doesn't seem to mind," she shot back. "In fact, I think it's with me on this one. So answer the question, or I'll do something really embarrassing to you."

"You don't understand," I said. "You are strong. I'm not. I thought I was, but it was proven to me conclusively that I am indeed weak. I cannot be trusted."

"I trust you," she said, echoing her words from the Star Forge. "You did the right thing when it came down to the wire. More than once." She looked at me and the look in her eyes was naked, unguarded. "You saved me once, when you had no reason to. I was a stranger to you, a stranger who had done innumerable wrongs. I was an enemy, and yet you chose to save me. You could have let me die and been morally absolved. But you chose to hold on to the thread of humanity inside a monster." She folded her arms and looked up at me. "You saw something redeemable in me, something that nobody else saw. And that makes me wonder what it is you see in him that nobody else can see."

No one else had described my actions in that exact context and it humbled me. "My intentions were not unselfish," I said. "When Malak said I saved you because I was fascinated by the dark power you wielded, he was not entirely incorrect."

"Malak always had more of a single-minded focus than the average Sith," she said. "I think. And you have never been single-minded." She smiled briefly. "You'd have been a lot easier for me to work with if you had. You're a complex person, Bastila. So give over, what is it about Canderous that you see beneath the surface?"

I avoided her gaze for a long moment and occupied myself with the fastener on my pack. "I'm tainted," I said. "My fall to the dark side altered forever the person I used to be. I am damaged. Scarred." The words poured out of me in a rush, the bond between us allowing her dangerous familiarity with my emotions. "I am polluted, poisoned, unfit for the Jedi Code. I betrayed everyone depending on me. Canderous--I--he would have followed you had I convinced you to join me on the Dark Side."

"I know. It bothers me sometimes," she said. "That he would have just as easily become the right hand of the Sith as the Republic."

I nodded. That very thing had attracted me to him, though. "I can't say why Canderous draws me. I suppose--I can be--tainted when I am with him."

"You were raised by the Order, weren't you?" she asked. At my nod, she nodded, too. "They've done you a terrible injustice," she said, getting off the bunk. "I won't let them get away with that, Bastila."

"Revan, wait!" I said. "Don't do anything disrespectful. Don't--" but she was gone, leaving me wondering about my feelings for Canderous and if they were indeed as complex as she seemed to think I was.

I ached to be off the Hawk and on Yavin 4 already, not because the planet or its orbiting space station held any attraction for me, but the presence of the Council called to me, told me I could run to them and be safe. Protected. From myself.

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