Chapter Twenty Five: Identification
Previously: Canderous chose new accommodations, Eva and Carth got an un-requested wakeup call. Eva wanted to find Juhani, but all she managed to find was lots of kinrath, kath hounds, an abused droid and vicious Mandalorian raiders with a peppering of Duros to taste. Eva, Carth, Canderous and generic Jedi managed to eliminate the threat, but not before Eva was totally done in and passed out. The others didn't look so good either.
Eva's faint lasted no more than the time it took for Carth to pull out a medpac and prep a kolto injection, conscientiously cleaning the injection site of blood and grime before poising the tip above her. As her eyes cracked open, she squeaked upon sighting the weapon grasped in his hand. Carth jumped at the sound and almost dropped the syringe.
"Dammit, Eva! You nearly gave me a heart attack," he grumbled as he gripped her arm again.
"That's the least of your troubles, flyboy," Eva groused, flexing a hand painfully.
"What?" he asked densely.
"You and your take control attitude. Now I'm all banged up," she grizzled.
"Excuse me, but last I checked, I didn't take your free will," he returned uneasily. Truth be told, he did feel a little guilty.
"No, but I nearly became a shish-ka-jedi," pouted Eva, wincing at stretching her cracked lips.
"You can't fight worth a damn, Eva," Canderous jeered, "I expected better from a Jedi than to succumb to scum like that."
"I resent that remark! It was, after all, you who dragged me out of bed well before I needed to, and it's not like you tore apart as many kinrath as I did this morning," sniffled Eva. "By the way, thanks for the save, Ordo."
Canderous shrugged. "For a mediocre Jedi, you did okay lasting as long as you did."
"I'll take that as a 'you're entirely welcome, Revan,'" Eva sighed. Glaring at Carth, she snapped, "Well, what are you waiting for? Plunge that thing in me!"
Carth did as he was told. Canderous was making the rounds of the corpses, snagging weapons and occasionally snuffing out those enemies who had not entirely given up the fight for life. He avoided the prone Jedi, until one let out a heartrending moan. Canderous nearly dropped a grenade on his foot.
"Ouch!" One of the Jedi groaned unoriginally. The bloodied Force-user lifted a hand gingerly to his head, and blinked dazedly. "Damn!"
"Eva? I caught one of your Jedi swearing over here," Canderous yelled, not willing to aid the Jedi but loath to ignore his presence in the land of the living.
"Hey, you! Knock it off," Eva shouted back as she shooed Carth away and began systematically categorising her hurts.
One by one, the Jedi regained consciousness and dragged themselves into positions for meditation to help speed their Force resources along. Carth would have gone over to Eva and commented on it, but she was in a trance of her own and was therefore unavailable.
"They're not zombies, are they?" Canderous asked Carth.
"I don't know what they are," Carth said frankly, "but this sure doesn't explain why the Jedi are supposedly 'going extinct'."
Canderous sighed and planted his butt firmly on one of the speeders. It was obvious that the Jedi weren't about to move until they woke up, again. "You fought in the Mandalorian Wars, didn't you? We may have faced each other in combat. What battles were you in?" Canderous' voice held a wistful element, the type people use when talking about 'the good old days'.
Carth stiffened, eyes narrowing and long ingrained hostility rising in his expression. "I try not to think about my fighting past too much. I've never been eager to relive the horrors of war."
Canderous scowled. "The 'horrors of war'? Mandalorians know only the glory of battle! I'm disappointed in you, Carth! I thought you were a warrior."
Shaking his head, Carth explained tersely. "I'm not a warrior – I'm a soldier. There's a difference! Warriors attack and conquer, they prey on the weak. Soldiers defend and protect the innocent – mostly from warriors."
"Nice speech," Canderous sneered, still grimacing in disgust. "I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep. But I… I accept who and what I am! I don't have to justify my actions with words. Victory in battle is my justification!"
Carth leapt on this latest declamation. "Justification through victory? So what happens when you lose? You know – like you did against us?"
Canderous scoffed, a reminiscent gleam entering his eyes. "You had us outnumbered five to one! You had more ships, more troops, more supplies, and the Jedi on your side! And we still made the Republic tremble before we fell!"
Carth rolled his eyes. "Nice speech. I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep. I don't want to talk anymore, Canderous! The war is over. You lost." And with that Carth pushed off, stalking to the other side of the field, and nearly tripping over a body. A warm body.
Noting that this person was not Mandalorian, Duros, or Jedi, Carth bent and reflexively searched for a pulse, more out of habit than hope. Unexpectedly, he felt the weak flutter under his fingers, and went into field-medic mode, drawing on his training.
Once his basic medical instruments were fairly confident the young man's health was stable, he surmised from his garb that the man was a settler who had been attacked by kath hounds before hiding here, or was 'rescued' from the kath hounds by the raiders and dumped here. Turning around, he saw several wobbly looking Jedi pick themselves off the ground. Carth carefully lifted the young man and started towards the speeders.
Canderous saw Carth laying the young man on the vehicle and shook his head derisively. "Really, Republic. Do you have to pick up strays?"
"I don't see why you're complaining, Ordo, since you were the last stray we 'picked up'," Carth returned defensively.
"Do you two ever stop fighting?" Eva drawled, yawning as she came out of her trance. "Honestly, why can't you do the friendly man thing, and grunt a bit, punch each others arms and get along?"
Both men looked at her with undisguised bewilderment. She shook her head sadly.
"Never mind. I say we appropriate these speeders and go back to the Enclave, where we can get proper treatment for our wounds and return the stolen property, as well as sell the rest for compensation to the most heavily affected settlers," Eva said, before seeing Carth's new charge. "Who… I've seen that boy before. He's a son of one of the wealthy settlers. Mantral? Sadale? Is he going to survive?"
"I think so," Carth replied, moving over to help Eva to her feet and guide her to a speeder.
Eva frowned for a moment before sighing, "I'll make sure he does." Closing her eyes, she portrayed all the now familiar signs of healing someone through the Force."
The other recovering Jedi soon staggered over to the other speeders. Carth decided to pilot Eva and the young settler himself, and left Canderous seated and seething in front of two battered Jedi, the other three warily climbing aboard the other speeder. As the three speeders hummed along at a genteel pace befitting wounded warriors, Eva sighed and brushed a hand over the young man's forehead, smoothing his grimy locks out of his eyes.
"I wonder how he got mixed up in this mess," she mused, gentle emotions surging to the forefront of her mind. Maybe it was the near-death experience she had just gone through, but she definitely prized life a little more and felt fortunate to be still breathing.
Carth shrugged as he guided the speeder gently through a turn in the landscape. "The Mandalorian raiders were raiding settlers – we found an injured settler near their camp. No mystery there, Eva." He frowned a moment. "You know, I'm still not satisfied about your name."
Eva drew up her eyebrows in enquiry. "What about my name offends you? Do you still find it mannish? I did try to rectify that for you."
Carth shook his head, glancing at her momentarily before returning his eyes to the terrain ahead. "It's not that. But, you know, Bastila Shan, Vrook Lamar, Ulic Quel-Droma, Exar Kun. They all had more than one name. Even that weird little green alien Jedi has two names."
Eva mock frowned at him and replied, "That's Master Vandar to you, Republic."
Carth chuckled at hearing Canderous' nickname for him issue from Eva's mouth, not to mention her imitation of his voice. "Even Malak, you told me he was Alek Squinkie-something."
Eva couldn't help bursting into laughter. "Yeah, that was one of his nicknames. Makes you wonder if anyone nowadays calls him Darth Squinky."
"It's possible," Carth said solemnly, "he has to stay in shape somehow."
After they thoroughly enjoyed that interlude, Carth got the conversation back on track. "But I'm not giving up about your name, you know. I know Bastila doesn't know it, but I'm pretty sure your Council does."
"Yeah, but…" Eva started then stopped, disgruntled at falling into his trap.
"If you don't tell me, I'm going to have to improvise," Carth goaded her deliberately, shamelessly using the opportunity. "Revan sounds like a guy's, so I'll use that for your surname. You don't look like an Angela, or a Tabitha, or an Elora. Asphani Revan? Too fussy. Danis? I always hated that name."
Eva glared at him. "You know, I'm not exactly an innocent Jedi – I've been in our Archives. Do you know much about the delicate art of Sith torture? I can provide you with a grounded introduction to the subject." Carth was never quite sure if he really had seen a spark or two fly from the fingertips of one of her hands.
"I won't stop till you tell me your name," Carth answered bravely.
"Fine!" Eva spat, staring to the side angrily. After a moment, she mumbled something.
"I didn't hear you," Carth said.
Revan spoke up sullenly. "Chab! Chab, all right? My name is Chab Revan." She winced at Carth's upraised eyebrows. "All through my apprentice and Padawan years, it was apprentice Chub, or Padawan Chubby. When I became a Knight, I only used my last name. That's a hell I don't want to revisit."
Carth smiled in sympathy. "I hear you. When I was a kid, the others called me Carth-Arth. What's with parents, anyway, calling their kids such awful names?"
Eva rolled her eyes and recited, "My grandmother was called Chab, and her mother before her was called Chab. According to the dusty old language they used to speak, it meant something along the lines of 'wise' and 'respectful'. Any woman should be proud to bear such a dignified name." She snorted after she finished her speech.
Carth narrowed his eyes at her. "You know your family? Isn't that against the rules of the Jedi?"
"Knew, Carth, knew my family. It's kind of unavoidable when they raise you, you know?" Eva sighed and would have run a hand through her hair, but decided it was too dirty and bloody. She really didn't need to look any worse than she already did. "I was found by the Jedi when I was seven – older than many when they come to the Order, and certainly old enough to retain memories of my origins."
"Was it hard?" Carth asked delicately.
Eva looked at him bemusedly before she realised he was asking about parting from her family. "No, actually, it was a relief," Eva stated baldly. At Carth's look of disbelief, she elaborated. "Look, I was born on a poor planet, to even poorer parents. That was mostly because of my father, mind you," she said bitterly.
"I don't understand," Carth said slowly, "I know that it can be hard to be poor, but family bonds are more important than wealth."
"Tell that to my father, if the deadbeat is still alive," shrugged Eva. "He couldn't hold down a steady job, or, more likely, wouldn't. Because the shiftless fool wouldn't apply himself, my mother, who loved him, Force knows why, worked at whatever menial job would pay money. I joined her working when I was three and able to follow simple commands." Eva's eyes grew dark with memory. "Sometimes it was fairly clean work – laundry, agriculture. Mostly, it was hard, back-breaking, dirty work. It aged my mother unbelievably in the few years I knew her. But we lived, simply, but alive. We moved from here to there, managing to eat, but not much more than that. I was damn lucky they didn't want to sell me. And then it all went wrong."
"When the Jedi came?" asked Carth with his one-track mind.
"No!" Eva groaned exasperatedly. "The planet's climate changed. Famine spread planet-wide. Even wealthy residents couldn't always find enough to eat. We starved, Carth. Even now I can hardly bear to remember some of the things we ate, when we were lucky enough to find them."
"I'm sorry," Carth said, recognising the inadequacy of his words.
"Heh, I'm fat and sassy now," Eva grinned at him understandingly.
Carth laughed, his eyes softening beautifully. Eva's smile froze momentarily as she unintentionally drank in the sight of his mellow brown gaze. Unsure, she forced her eyes to the passing view to the side and continued her tale in a muted tone.
"That was when the Jedi came, a party of Masters and Knights sent to try and relieve the suffering of the sentients living there. Along with care packages, they were also learned in agricultural evolution and enhancement. They didn't just try to soften the effects of the famine, but they turned the tide around, planning for the future. Eventually, I was in the presence of a Jedi and she noticed me immediately. I was strong in the Force, albeit untrained in it. My use of it was mostly instinctual."
"You can do that?' Carth asked, momentarily side-tracked.
"Heck, yeah. How do you think we came to learn to use it? You know, you probably use it on a basic level too. I mean, you've been a soldier how long, and survived?"
Carth looked visibly unsettled by this. "I… there are lots who have served longer and are living still."
Eva shook her head and tried to explain it in a way he would accept. "You know, some people refer to the Force as the Life-Force. You know, elemental life energy. You'd be stupid to say your life didn't save your life, wouldn't you?"
"Okay, whatever," smirked Carth, willing to let it go. "What then, when the Jedi found you?"
Eva shook her head in amusement, and continued with her life story. "At first, my mother was horrified by the thought of being separated from me. We loved each other, you know? And my dad – he liked me there, too. He was attached to me in his own way. Same blood, and all that. But when my mother came to understand the advantages I'd get from the Jedi that I wouldn't have if I stayed with her – education, security," she sighed, "a future, well, she couldn't say no. She explained everything to me and I agreed, and here I am. If the Jedi hadn't taken me, I would have died, or if I was very fortunate, become a servant or labourer, mired in superstitions and ignorance."
"You owe the Jedi," Carth mused, "and this is why you defend them."
Eva paused a moment to gather her thoughts. "Don't mistake me, even now, I kind of miss my family, well, mostly my mother, but it's not like I'm at a phenomenally long boarding school. The Jedi become your family. I had many friends; in fact, I had two that I felt were my brothers. I got into lots of trouble, went through my rebellious teen angst phase and had second, third, fourth and fifth doubts about my life. I've considered my choices, and so far, I've always chosen the Jedi. I know you are mistrustful of the Jedi, Carth, but what you don't realise is that you don't know enough about us to have a fair opinion. The good they have done to the galaxy outweighs the bad they have unintentionally done. You can't say you don't feel that way about the Republic."
Carth thought about her words all the way back to the Enclave.
(&X&)
Cleaned up, healed, and relatively comfortable, Canderous, Carth, Eva and the five Jedi involved in the Mandalorian encounter stood before the Dantooine section of the Jedi Council in their ascetically furnished circular council room.
"Were you out of your minds?" Vrook Lamar queried in a hard tone. "Jedi were put in danger today by your irresponsible actions."
"And in doing so, rid the citizens of Dantooine of a threat that has plagued them for weeks," Master Zhar contradicted placidly. The Twi'lek Jedi was not as afraid of prompt action as his grumpy human counterpart.
"The Jedi are becoming too few in number as it is," groused Vrook, nevertheless taking note of his fellow councilman's point and refraining from further comment. He did not, however, refrain from wearing his habitual scowl, though it is possible that the lines of his face merely fell naturally, according to his nature.
"The Jedi are sworn protectors of the peace and the Republic," Eva spoke up quietly, realising that Vrook probably was the type of Jedi Carth thought typical of the Order. "I regretted and continue to regret the danger I placed my fellow Jedi in, but they had the choice and they chose to honour their duty."
Vandar interjected calmly, "And yet we have more pressing worries than that of a band of raiders. If you had been lost in the fight, a useful fund of knowledge in yourself would have been lost."
Carth refused to allow his emotions to surface on his face. Was that all Eva's adopted family thought of her, as a 'useful fund of knowledge'? He supposed Bastila was only valued as a battle tactic, not as the emotionally fragile teenager he deduced she was.
Eva paused, remembering words that Mission had spoken to her. "I recently came across the principle, Masters, that expresses the view that the universe cannot be saved by means of wars, but only by consistent action and the care for individuals, not merely masses. Perhaps the universe is still in danger, but I do not believe anyone present would not agree that Dantooine's future has been brightened since the Mandalorians were dealt with."
Zhar Lestin looked penetratingly at her. "Wise words. I am glad you are still studying the great Jedi Masters and their writings."
Eva looked back at him, a barely detectable grin twitching her lips. "Master, I believe we never stop learning."
Vrook looked/glared at the other Jedi and dismissed them. He would have tried to persuade Carth and Canderous to leave as well, but the aged Jedi recognised the strength of will displayed in Canderous' raised eyebrow and sardonic smirk, and disliked the idea of making a scene with a Mandalorian, of all people. Vrook might not have been the most tolerant Jedi, but he knew how to pick his battles.
"Revan, you are concerned," Vandar stated, peering up at her.
"Yesterday I was informed by Master Quatra about Juhani. I found it very disturbing," Eva said plainly, shifting on her feet.
"You enquire about Quatra's teaching methods?" Vandar queried.
"Pardon me, Master, but I cannot see what Juhani can learn when she is driven out of her senses by fear and anger," Eva said bluntly, oblivious to Carth's barely repressed cheer.
"Quatra's methods are somewhat off-colour when compared to many of our great Jedi teachers," Dorak contributed.
"We neither approved nor discussed her methods with Quatra," Vrook stated, looking as peeved as Eva had ever seen him. "You may have heard that she is bound for Coruscant – there we have arranged for her to tutor Padawans and Knights in swordplay and basic applications of the Force. She will be placed on watch to make sure she does not endanger another one's standing in the Light."
"I am partially relieved, but I am anxious for Juhani," Eva said, nodding her head a little, and shifting again from foot to foot. She was beginning to tire of standing.
"We have engaged some droids to scan satellite images for her whereabouts. Perhaps if you had known of this development you would have had a more pleasant morning, hmm?" Vandar returned, raising a scruffy eyebrow.
Eva stammered for a moment before grinning and pouting, "That's not fair, Master Vandar."
"You do solve an issue for us, Revan. We were unsure of who to send to bring Juhani safely back, but it is a natural choice to pick you, with your history together," Zhar informed her.
"I don't know," Eva grimaced, "we weren't on good terms. When I thought I might be the only one looking out for her at the time, I thought I was better than no one, but now…"
"Juhani has matured since then," Zhar replied. "I have no doubt we shall obtain her location in time for you to meet her tomorrow."
"You should gather your strength, Revan," Vrook barked, "You look terrible."
"My thanks, Master," Eva rolled her eyes and bowed deeply, thankful that her balance was not yet impaired, and coaxed her two male companions to exit with her.
"Your dinner should be ready on the Hawk, Canderous," Eva nudged him. "You wouldn't want it to get cold."
"Whatever," grunted Canderous, heading for the hangars.
Carth stepped alongside Eva down two hallways before asking, "Where are we going?"
"To what you would call the mess, Commander," Eva replied humorously.
"Great. Are they serving shish-ka-jedi today?"
Eva's reply was a faked scowl and a headshake.
Once arriving at the cafeteria, they were silent, absorbed in making their food choices. Usually, Carth had noticed Eva's portions were similar to his in size, but today they seemed to be only three-quarters of that amount. He decided to forego drawing notice to it, telling himself it wasn't like she couldn't lose a few pounds. Still, he wondered whether it might not have something to do with the stress she had recently suffered. He would keep an eye on her, anyway.
When they were seated with their foods of choice in front of them, he ate for a while before commenting quietly, "I saw it, Eva."
"Saw what?" Eva asked bewildered, mentally cataloguing her recent memory for any misdeeds she had committed that he might not have approved of.
"In there, with the Council. You're not afraid of them, and they're… they're pretty tolerant of you. It's like some kind of weird collective father figure. And like fathers, they have their faults, but that doesn't change who they are."
Eva smiled, pausing her task of eating to sigh in relief and pleasure. "That's a roundabout way of putting it, but yes, we're something similar to a family unit. There's much less passion, naturally, and no moms," she laughed.
The penetrating voice of Vrook floated to them from across the room. "You do not know the Jedi Code?!? Without knowledge of these doctrines all your training will be for naught! All Jedi must know the Code! Its tenets are the fundamental teachings of our order!"
Eva winced. "And like all families, we have our crank uncles."
Carth pointed his spork at her. "Mind you, I won't keep silent when I think you guys are making a mistake, but from now on I'll try not to be so…" he searched for a word.
"Paranoid?" Eva supplied, grinning fiendishly.
"Cautious," Carth emphasised, scowling playfully at her.
"So, where do you fit in with this family description, Carth?" Eva teased. "Country cousin? Heretical nephew?"
"Devastatingly handsome pilot friend," Carth replied with a straight face.
"Okay," Eva agreed mildly, suppressing yet another grin. She was convinced her face was going to get a cramp if she continued much longer in his presence. Perhaps the violence of this morning had purged the darkness from him for a time. As the thought occurred to her, she acknowledged to herself that he did indeed have his dark side, and if at all possible, she would try to help him resist its influence. He had earned her care. As had Canderous. When the burly Mandalorian was ready to talk, she would be there, if she could.
Interrupting her musings, Carth enquired interestedly, "So, do I know your former Master? The one you were Apprentice and Padawan to, or has he or she retired due to advanced age?"
"Ha, ha," Eva glared slightly at him. "No, you don't know her."
"Her, hmm?" Carth prompted.
Eva sighed theatrically. "There are not enough hours in the day to acquaint you with the very strange tale of my original mentor. Suffice to say, she was the Archivist before Frigid Ice Jedi, uh, Master Atris, that is. She introduced me to many of the items there and explained how they shaped her own perceptions." Eva frowned in contemplation. "And if you thought I was weird…"
"I suppose I can't judge you," Carth mused, a saturnine expression flitting over his features. "One day I'll tell you about my mentor. That is, if you haven't looked at my file already."
"Darn, I keep reminding myself," Eva joked. She continued, "After my first, Kreia, I learned from other Jedi Masters who were experts at their fields. Zhar, Kae, even Dorak. He can go on forever, but he has a comprehensive knowledge of Jedi history. And you know what they say – those who take no note of past mistakes are doomed to repeat them."
"Instead of making new ones?" Carth grinned wistfully. "Yeah, I try and keep up on the histories, too, though I'm probably more interested in military chronicles than certain mystics seeking for the ultimate knowledge."
"That's right, Carth. Keep to your own intelligence level," praised Eva good-humouredly.
(&X&)
"Nineteen, wow, that's impressive," Mission praised. The eager Jedi apprentice opposite her grinned elatedly over his arrangement of pazaak cards. Mission allowed him his moment of glory, before clearing her throat and dealing the final card. "But my last card is a plus/minus three, so, I'm sorry, my twenty beats your nineteen."
"Well played," the chastised apprentice nevertheless applauded. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am we are not playing for credits."
Mission shrugged. "Well, it's not like you Jedi are rolling in the stuff, and even I have my principles. Besides, a knowledge of pazaak will take you surprisingly far in the galaxy – so I'm doing you a favour. When you're a Jedi Knight and on important missions, every now and then remember the important Mission, all right?"
"Done," beamed the friendly apprentice. They parted amicably; their tolerance for cards, while long, was not indefinite.
Mission wandered from the cafeteria to the courtyard outside the Enclave without a single error in her direction. Years of making her way around the labyrinthine passages of the Lower and Undercities of Taris had made her internal map making pretty accurate. Making her way over to the low courtyard wall, she sat on it and yawned, enjoying the warm sunshine on her lekku. She was quite bored now, having used up her daily quota of friendliness to strangers. Bastila was cooped up with the Masters, not that Mission really wanted to speak with her, but at least Bastila had some idea of where she came from and what interested her. As for Zaalbar, Mission had long ago given up any hope that he would develop the skills of a good conversationalist. Still, if she was desperate… but for the meantime, Mission wanted to buff up her rusty skills of eavesdropping. It wasn't hard, all the settlers waiting for audiences with the Jedi were also bored and discussing their various troubles with each other.
Mission heard a lot about the Mandalorian raiders. At first, she wondered whether they were really as bad as they were made out to be: Canderous wasn't that bad, and he was pretty much a typical Mandalorian, or so the others seemed to think. However, as she listened further, she heard details of their raids, and of the consequences that followed. When the eventual news of their defeat made its way into the Enclave, Mission was grimly pleased for the settlers, if somewhat astonished that it was mostly due to the efforts of her new found friends that the Mandalorians finally received justice.
It was with some trepidation that she heard that the conquering party came back rather banged up, but she was thankful to hear that they were all pretty much alive. The fact that the Jedi had finally acted, and had even suffered for the sake of the settlers, went a long way to appeasing many of the others' doubts about the Jedi's intentions. Sympathy began running stronger for the Jedi than Mission had heard it before. The Twi'lek teen mentally filed that information under Eva's name. Lazy she might have been – but Mission had seen far too much to write off the chunky woman.
Carth and Canderous had been involved, too. Mission wondered why Canderous fought against his own, but decided that there was no way the Mandalorian could be forced into doing anything he didn't want to do. Ordo must have had his own reasons for buying into the battle. Carth, Mission reflected, had always seemed like a stuff shirt with a bit of a soft side. It wasn't hard to understand why he bought into the fight, considering he must have run the gauntlet through the crowd of settlers several times and heard their stories for himself.
Musing to herself, Mission found her thoughts straying to Bastila. Poor thing, Mission sympathised in her head, having one's brain continually poked by the Jedi must be an awful thing to undergo. Bastila had been composed but a little pale when Mission had seen her go to her appointment with the Council. They must feel that she was an important but dangerous asset, to monitor her so closely and so invasively.
She started listening again, her ears pricking up at the strange syllables comprising names. The settlers were talking about two prominent families on Dantooine – who, unfortunately, lived no great distance from each other. Their own self-importance and inability to bend to the will of others, especially each other, seemed to have made a questionable situation worse, and now seemed to have escalated into something of a feud. Each of the intractable men invested heavily in guard droids and security measures in their opulent manor houses, each refused to speak to each other except in abusive tones, and each had plenty to say about the other: none of it good.
To Mission, it sounded like two rival swoop gangs from back on Taris. Which of the Sandrals and Matales were Beks, and which were Vulkars? Mission was wise enough to realise that situations are rarely as black and white as those examples. Then the pitch of the settlers' voices changed again, and there were some muffled exclamations. An aging man walked through the parting settlers, marching through without acknowledgement, fair skin florid with frustration.
"What's got Ahlan Matale's panties in a bunch this time?" an impertinent voice soared above the crowd.
Unhearing or unheeding of the jeering sentiment, the Matale patriarch steamed along, briefly stopping before an obviously aggrieved Jedi and declaring, "I demand an audience with the Jedi!"
Mission unobtrusively switched on her stealth belt. She wasn't going to miss this free show!
Calmly and smoothly the Jedi slowly transferred Ahlan Matale through the proper channels, unconcerned at his fuming face and obvious agitation. The sedate pace of the proceedings allowed Mission to follow with ease. Mission was half-surprised that the Jedi didn't sense her, but they were clearly fairly relaxed and not expecting anything untoward or surprising. When they were left waiting, Mission amused herself by counting the strands of hairs in Matale's comb-over. Like many Twi'leks, she had a fascination with hair, having none on her head and very little, if any, on her body.
When half an hour had passed, Matale and Mission were admitted to the circular Council chamber where Mission had seen Eva enter a time or two before. Craning her head around, Mission catalogued the entire compilation of items in the room before any of the Jedi Council addressed the furious farm baron.
"I demand action," Ahlan spoke imperiously into the silence.
Three pairs of inscrutable Jedi eyes appraised him dispassionately. Of course, Vrook glared with his own set.
"Is that so?" Master Zhar Lestin asked mildly.
The doors opened, and from her invisible position Mission saw Eva and Carth walk through the portal. Eva appeared a little worse for wear but well and truly mobile, and Carth seemed no more damaged than a few dark spots on his beloved jacket. Mission marvelled again at the potential of Jedi healing.
"I am in a meeting with the Council, Jedi. I do not appreciate my time being wasted with interruptions," Ahlan said peevishly to Eva.
"My apologies, sir," Eva said, her eyes clearly belying her respectful tone. "I am Master Revan. I was requested to be here for this meeting."
"And your companion?" Matale asked irritably. "I am not blind – he is no Jedi."
"Commander Onasi, Republic Liason," Carth said glibly.
Ahlan seethed for a moment.
"You requested to see us, Mr. Matale?" Vandar prompted.
Ahlan paused a moment to regain his original line of thought. "I ask for justice, Master Jedi! The Sandrals have been a blight on Dantooine ever since they settled here. They must be punished!"
"And your reasoning for this request?" Vrook growled out, his behaviour expressing his previous acquaintance with the facts and his rapidly worsening temper.
"Nurik Sandral has kidnapped my son! How can there be any explanation for his disappearance?!" Ahlan insisted.
"How long ago has he been missing?" Dorak asked, preparing to take notes on his datapad.
"Three days he has not returned," Ahlan said bitterly. "Three days he has been imprisoned by that lunatic!"
Carth muttered aside to Eva, "He's certainly not talking about our lost young man. There's no resemblance between them at all."
Eva nodded, but nevertheless spoke up. "Sir, I trust you have pursued all possible alternatives?"
Ahlan turned purple. "I know what happened! He took my son, and he now laughs at me! Do not think I do not know why he sent his droids onto my land! I destroyed them, and if you fools will not give me justice then you are not fit for your office!"
"Peace, Mr. Matale," Vrook barked, "disrespecting the Jedi will not advance your cause here."
Holding back her indignation, Eva persisted, "I merely wished to ask if you know if your son was accompanied when he went missing. A young man of wealth has recently turned up in our care gravely wounded, and though it is clear he is not your son, perhaps he may have seen something or was confided in by your son."
"My son has no secrets from me," Ahlan said defensively, but acknowledged, "However, I can see your point. I will see this man and ascertain whether or not he is connected to my son in the slightest way."
"This young man was attacked by kath hounds," Eva said plainly – no delicate way to go about this. "Is it at all possible your son may have been at risk of attack?"
Ahlan obviously envisioned the possibility. The colour fled from his face and his eyes glistened before he shut his eyes and resumed his former expression. "Every bad thing that has happened to me has been at the hand of Sandrals. This matter is urgent – who knows what that under bred man might do to my son? If you refuse to take action soon, I will be forced to attend to matters myself. Perhaps that would be best!"
"I am sure it will not come to that," Eva soothed, her clenched fists held behind her back. "I can assure you that both I and Commander Onasi will look into this personally. I promise you we will find your son. Our investigation will begin immediately."
Ahlan started to look somewhat appeased. "I will spare no expense to have my son back. Whatever it takes, I need him back."
Eva balanced her angry thoughts about her services being mercenarily motivated, beside her practical impulses that stated clearly that as a wealthy man, Matale could easily spare a nice sum that could go to the Enclave. "Whatever you deem appropriate will be put to good use at the Enclave," she finally said noncommittally. "Please, come with me and interview the young man. I was just informed of his awakening when I heard of this meeting and decided to offer my help. Please, come."
Ahlan reluctantly followed them to the Jedi medbay where the healers had been working diligently on the injured youth. The moment Ahlan walked through the door and clearly saw his face, he lurched forward and grasped the poor boy's sleeping tunic in his hands and shouted, "What did you do to my boy, you trash!"
"Mr. Matale!" Eva scolded, as Carth quickly reacted and yanked the estate owner rearward by the back of his collar.
"Ask him!" Ahlan yelled, his tone high-pitched. "Ask that Sandral scum where my son is!"
Author's Notes and Explanations: Hey, you didn't really think I'd kill off good Jedi, did you? Even poor generics have a right to… whatever it is they have in my fic. I just thought this would parody the game – you know, your team members succumb in a fight and fall down, and the minute the last enemy hits the dust, they're like, "Ouch!" and up and moving. I LOVE unreality! (And if you're somehow reminded of Mass Effect – well, that line about zombies comes from it.)
So Carth and Canderous had 'the talk'. I know I didn't change it much – but why try to improve a good thing? I think that conversation sums up their stances very nicely. Aenzo gave me the idea to let Casus Sandral live – but I'm sure you saw it coming, didn't you? Aenzo told me off when I was lazy and ripped off the game's dialogue. I'm trying to make things glide from one quest to another, instead of just something to do.
In one of Lucasarts adventure games, the Monkey Island series, the hero, Guybrush Threepwood, has the opportunity to introduce himself as 'Squinky'. For some reason, that always had me in chuckles, and the idea of anyone calling Malak that just couldn't be resisted. And have you noticed how seriously ugly names sometimes come up in the Kotor name engine? There was an even worse one in my opinion than 'Chab', which was 'Shab'. I mean, what??
Eva's history is completely made up. In opposition to my negative feelings on the Jedi, I wanted to project a scenario where the Jedi solved a problem and stepped in, creating a positive outcome, and explain why Eva is so attached to the Order. Kind of like Anakin Skywalker and Bastila Shan – they were given an opportunity to be more than a slave or a hunter. What are your views? You know how much I love reviews!