The ride down to the Shadowlands was eerily silent, the only noises heard being the those of Kashyyyk wildlife and the creaking wood of the lift as Gorwooken worked to lower it to the forest floor. Seth couldn't help but feel relieved once he was finally able to step off the rickety platform and onto the solid ground of Kashyyyk's surface.
It was damper, darker, and colder down here than it had been up in the walkways, and he could hear Bastila's breath hitch a bit as she shivered. Canderous harrumphed at her reaction to the cold, squaring sleeveless shoulders as he walked ahead confidently. "Well, are you guys going to stand there freezing your tails off, or are we going to get a move on?" he asked.
"Easy for you to say," Seth grumbled under his breath as he fell into step next to Carth, whose signature orange jacket was doing wonders to protect him from the cold. He'd heard plenty of Canderous' stories from the Mandalorian war, where the warrior had fought through the most brutal extremes of weather on more than one occasion. Seth had spent the majority of his life so far on a single planet with fairly stable weather conditions and subsequently was not prepared to deal with the chill in the air.
He quietly wondered if the drastically-different dunes of Tatooine would treat him better.
Seth was startled from his thoughts as a dash of blue scurried across the path ahead of him, and he summoned the hilt of his lightsaber from his belt, clutching the deactivated weapon tightly in his hand as he surveyed the area.
"It's just a tach," Carth explained, humor lacing the tones of his voice. Seth's eyes followed the captain's pointed finger to a small, indigo-furred ape watching the group curiously from its position perched atop the massive gnarled root of a towering wroshyr tree. "They're harmless," Carth supplemented, placing a hand on Seth's wrist in an effort to lower the lightsaber.
"Not everything down here is," Seth replied quietly, eyes flicking about his surroundings.
As if to prove his point, a wailing roar sounded from not too far in the distance, reverberating through the trees and sending the Tach scurrying away into hiding. Canderous slid into a fighting stance, heavy repeater at the ready. "That sounded close."
Seth reached out to probe their surroundings with the Force, sensing a pack of wild creatures preoccupied with their prey just around the other side of the wroshyr's roots. "They are close," he confirmed.
And then, barely perceptible above the ambient noise of the forest floor, was a familiar snap-hiss sound, accompanied by a gentle tug on the otherwise uninterrupted ebb and flow of the Force. Seth's eyes met Bastila's, and she glanced back with equal confusion. "Come on," she said insistently, turning to move closer to the source of the disturbance.
"Last I checked, princess, heading straight into certain danger wasn't a bright idea," Canderous grumbled, but resignedly fell into step behind Bastila and Seth as they followed the edge of the root.
The hum of the lightsaber was louder now, and Seth had his own ready to spring to life in his hands in the likely scenario that he'd be coming face-to-face with a foe as they turned the corner. He expected some sort of Force-commanding, lightsaber-wielding warrior as the source of the commotion came into view.
What he hadn't expected, however, was that warrior's age. Seth's grip relaxed a bit around the hilt of his lightsaber as he and Bastila skidded to a stop, his head cocked in curiosity as he watched the final moments of the battle ahead unfolding. The man was human, with a shaven head and scraggly goatee as white as Hoth's snow-dusted surface. The green of his lightsaber illuminated dark, leathery skin, not wrinkled but obviously worn by years of living. He could have been old enough to be Seth's grandfather.
And he was kicking ass.
The old man stared down his opponent, a wild katarn who'd apparently assumed that the human would be an easy meal. He obviously wasn't, Seth observed, making note of the two slain katarns the man had already felled lying to either side of the one he faced now. Again, the padawan felt a slight shift in the Force as the old man disoriented the creature before it too was silenced by a flash of green.
Their presence not lost to him, the old man turned toward Bastila, Seth, Carth and Canderous, his lightsaber hissing as it deactivated. Seth again reached out through the Force to try and read the man standing before him, sensing Bastila doing the same thing through their bond. From the look on her face, she was just as puzzled as he was; while they could sense that this man was no foe, he was no more shrouded in light than he was darkness.
If this man was a Jedi, Seth decided, it had to have been a long time ago.
"Watch out," the man said simply, his voice as gruff as his appearance would suggest. "There's more of these things hiding in the underbrush, and it's just about dinner time for them."
Bastila frowned. "Thanks for the warning, but… who are you? What are you doing down here?"
The man laughed. "I could ask you the same thing!" He paused for a moment in amusement with himself as the lady Jedi stared him down before continuing. "My name's Jolee. Jolee Bindo. We can talk further, of course, but I suggest we do so at my camp. It's dangerous here and it reeks of blood and gore."
Bastila glanced back at the others for a moment, and Carth shrugged. "I'm sure he could answer more than a few questions we might have."
"Just follow me, and stick close. It's not too far ahead, just under a log," Jolee told them, beckoning for them to follow with a wave of his hand before turning to walk off in the direction of his camp.
Canderous groaned. "And here I thought we were full up on crazy."
Mission sat cross-legged on the floor of Rookwrorro's great hall, entirely aware of the several pairs of watchful Wookiee eyes trained on her. She paid them no mind, opting instead to focus on Zalbaar and Chuundar's conversation in hushed grunts and growls across the room. She couldn't hear much of what was being said, and her understanding of Shyriiwook, while quite proficient, wasn't enough for her to be able to piece together the bits and pieces her ears could make out. Still, she watched, her years of friendship with Zalbaar lending experience in understanding his body language.
"He seems… calm," Mission observed, voicing her opinion to Juhani quietly. "Definitely displeased about the state of things here on Kashyyyk, but it doesn't look like he's expecting a stab in the back anytime soon."
"I do not sense we are in immediate danger," the Cathar replied evenly, her own catlike eyes trained on the brothers' conversation as well. "This Wookiee is corrupted more by greed and gluttony than anger and hate. He is playing his angles right now, and it killing us serves him no benefit."
"How do you do that?" Mission asked, her gaze shifting from her Wookiee companion to the woman sitting beside her.
"Do what?"
"Read people like that. Y'know, figure out their emotional drivers, their current state of mind?" She paused, before clarifying, "I understand that it's got something to do with the Force, but the whole thing is a little confusing for me."
Juhani smiled. "It is… difficult to explain, but I will try. The Force is such a vast and mysterious thing, that I can't quite find the words to describe it well. In simple terms, to answer your specific question, it connects all things in the galaxy together and permeates every living being. Everyone has a connection to the Force, whether or not they're sensitive to it as the Jedi or Sith are, and everyone's connection can leave an imprint on the living Force around them. Some more than others, depending on their level of self-control and self-awareness. This Chuundar doesn't seem to have much of both, so reading him is no problem."
"Can all Jedi sense others' emotions, then?" Mission asked uneasily. Her mind instantly flooded with different scenarios that had occurred since she'd joined up with the Ebon Hawk's crew during which she didn't want anyone to have read her mind, particularly Seth or Bastila. Most prominently, the fact that the feelings she harbored for the young man were much deeper than she let on.
Juhani gave her a gentle smile and shook her head. "Not quite," she said with a chuckle. "Like I said, there are some variables at play with the subject's self-control and awareness, and there is also the matter of how the Force manifests itself within a Force-sensitive as well as how much training that particular Jedi or Sith has dedicated to the practice of reading others' emotions. For me, it tends to be a bit easier because the Force granted me this particular gifting, in the way that others are granted the gift of leadership or physical prowess. But unless the emotion is particularly strong or hard-hitting, I doubt Seth and Bastila could read your mind unless they were really trying and you'd left your defenses down. Between Seth's rushed training and Bastila's specialized training due to her Battle Meditation, I don't think either really had the time to focus on this particular manifestation of the Force."
"And you?" Mission asked.
"Well, fortunately for you I don't much care if you're falling for Seth," Juhani said with a wink, and Mission went furiously pink.
They'd been in the Shadowlands for all of half an hour, and Seth was convinced they'd already found the most interesting personality on the planet.
He sat hunched inside Jolee's cramped home, which was clearly not built to accommodate four guests, with his knees drawn up to his chin to make room for Carth's broad shoulders sitting just in front of him. The small space was made warm by the fire in a tiny fireplace against the far wall, and Seth could forgive the stiffness settling in his bones from sitting in such a hunched-over position for the opportunity to escape from the cold.
Bastila, however, was a bit more on-edge.
The young woman crouched on her haunches, looking prepared to bolt from the small home at any time. The detail wasn't missed by Jolee, who smirked at her casually. "Go ahead and make yourself at home. I imagine you have many questions."
"We're in a hurry," Bastila retorted curtly.
"I can't imagine you're in too much of a hurry, considering you have no idea where you're going," Jolee replied cooly. Canderous snorted in amusement and was met with a withering glare from the lady Jedi.
"Excuse me?" she asked, fire in her voice.
"You seek the Star Map, yes? I can't imagine you're here to help the Wookiees, and you don't look like you're with Czerka, so it's really the only thing down here that a pair of young Jedi and their associates would be searching for."
Seth noticed that Bastila didn't really have a reply for such an astute analysis, not that he blamed her. "So you know where it is?" he asked.
"Bah!" Jolee replied in indignation. "Of course I know where it is! You don't live in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk for twenty years and remain oblivious to things like this."
"Twenty years?" Carth repeated. "What's a Jedi doing spending twenty years living alone in the wilderness?"
"What, an old man can't enjoy a luxurious vacation in the beautiful forests of Kashyyyk?"
"I was serious." Jolee sighed underneath Carth's intent gaze.
"Self-exile," the old man responded. "I am no Jedi. I tired of the endless squabble between the 'dark' and 'light' when the galaxy exists in shades of grey. I decided to get away from it all for a bit. Do some good. Help the Wookiees."
"Understandable," Carth mused. "Still, it seems like an odd choice."
Jolee rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "You're young, don't pretend to understand the ramblings of an old man."
"If you know where the Star Map is," Bastila cut in, quickly changing the subject, "you must tell us."
"Oh, I must tell you, now must I?" he responded. "Because the fate of the galaxy hangs in the balance, I assume?"
"Well… yes," Seth admitted. "We'll be off to find it regardless of whether or not you help us, and we will find it, but your assistance would be much appreciated."
"The path is difficult to see and even harder to walk, especially for outsiders," Jolee explained. "I can't simply tell you where to go. I must show you myself."
"Then please," Bastila fought to keep exasperation out of her voice. "Show us."
"Ah, but that's where we must come to an agreement," the old man cautioned them. "I've spent twenty years down here, and it's about time I stretched my space legs. I assume you've arrived on a ship. Allow me to join your crew, and I will bring you to the map."
"Why would you want to join us?" Seth asked.
"Because I'm tired of the trees? Because I'm itching to be a part of something great and I can tell that's where you all are headed? Does my reasoning matter so much as the fact that you'll have an extra lightsaber at hand when situations get sticky?"
Seth's eyebrows rose in mild surprise, and he glanced at Bastila, the question on his mind apparent through their bond, if not by his facial expression. She pursed her lips and he felt the indecision raging within her – she did not trust Jolee.
Unfortunately for Bastila, she knew they had no choice. She placed a resigned hand on her hip and sighed. "Very well. Welcome to the crew of the Ebon Hawk."
It was after about half an hour of following Jolee down a winding narrow path between the trees that Seth brought up the task Chuundar had assigned to them.
"I don't know of a crazed Wookiee," the old man told him as they walked, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch. "Mad with grief, perhaps, but not exactly frothing at the mouth. I understand you worked out a deal with this Chuundar to get passage to the Shadowlands, but I'm afraid I cannot let you kill him."
"Chuundar has my friends," Seth told him, hiding any desperation that threatened to creep into his tone. "I can't get them back until that Wookiee is dead."
"Bah! You're a Jedi, boy!" Jolee retorted. "You of all people should know there's more than one path to follow in order to achieve a goal. Find another way."
"At least let me speak to him," Seth acquiesced. "If anything, he may be able to help me figure out how to stop Chuundar."
The old man nodded. "I can agree to that. He's set up camp not far from the Star Map. It's likely we'll run into him either on the way there or the way back. You may speak with him then."
It was then that Canderous stopped in front of them, holding his hand up for silence. "Something's moving ahead," he whispered. "And it's not friendly."
Seth peered past him, squinting to see anything beyond the massive Mandalorian that was visible in the dim moonlight that filtered through the tree branches extending for miles above their heads. "Canderous, I don't think–"
"Shh!" the mercenary hissed.
"Reach out in the Force, Seth," Bastila prodded gently. "I sense that Canderous is right."
The younger Jedi obeyed, grasping hold of his senses and stretching them outward ahead of them in a sweeping arc. Just ahead, he felt a snagging disturbance in the Force, and his hand unconsciously crept toward the lightsaber hilt hanging at his hip from his belt.
Before he or Bastila could take action on their senses, however, a shot rang through the air, and Seth was startled to see a thin trail of smoke rising from the barrel of Canderous' heavy repeater. In the clearing ahead, a stealth field rippled away to reveal a tall armored humanoid slumped against a tree, clutching its shoulder. Seth's breath caught in his throat when he recognized the obviously Mandalorian make of the armor. Canderous' upper lip curled into a snarl, and he crossed the distance between himself and the unnamed Mandalorian in just a few strides.
He pressed a thick forearm against the Mandalorian's collarbone, pinning the stranger to the tree trunk behind him and growling in the face of the mask. "Who. The hell. Are you?" Canderous snarled, punctuating nearly every word.
"Could be asking the same thing of you," a male voice filtered through the mask.
"I am Canderous of Clan Ordo, and I'm asking the questions here." As if to prove his point, Canderous enunciated the last part of his sentence with a forceful shove.
"Bolen, Clan Vizsla," the other Mandalorian coughed.
Canderous was visibly taken aback by that, and Seth wondered what significance Bolen's clan held for the veteran warrior. "Vizsla," the mercenary breathed. "Impossible. The clan was wiped out when the Jedi joined the Mandalorian Wars."
"Nearly," Bolen responded. "We're rebuilding our ranks, slowly but surely, but Revan's initial attack decimated the bulk of the clan. Luckily, the new Mandalore has committed to helping us regain our strength."
Canderous froze. "New Mandalore? There hasn't been a Mandalore since Revan killed Mandalore the Ultimate."
"Tal Vizsla believes otherwise," Bolen replied firmly. "And what's left of our clan will follow Tal to our deaths."
"So this Tal Vizsla is your leader, then," Canderous mused. "Is he here on Kashyyyk?"
"He's the one that brought us here, on a mission from Mandalore the Unknown himself."
"Take me to him," Canderous said.
Bastila stepped forward. "Canderous, we really don't have time for–"
"I'll catch up!" he snapped.
"Canderous, you can't be serious," Seth deadpanned.
"He seems quite serious to me," Jolee responded, eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in the situation.
Canderous turned a withering glare on Seth. "I said I'll catch up," he snarled. He turned to Bolen again. "Take me to Tal. I invoke the code to prove his authority through single combat."
"What is it with you Mandalorians?" Carth muttered. "Never know how to solve anything except through the end of a blaster."
Canderous didn't bother to look back at the party as he followed Bolen further into the forest.
"He knows the way back to Rwookrrorro, should he get lost," Bastila murmured, turning to Jolee and gesturing for him to continue leading them through the forests. "We must move on."
Seth held back for a moment as the others pressed forward, watching Canderous proudly square his shoulders until the surrounding trees obscured him from sight.
He supposed he should have seen it coming eventually, but Seth couldn't help exchanging a look of exasperation with Carth when Bastila turned to Jolee to ask him the question that had undoubtedly been on her mind since the moment she first saw him battling the katarns, lightsaber in hand.
"Jolee," she began, rather tentatively compared to the authority with which she usually spoke, "I've been wondering, why is it that you –"
"I figured this was coming," he cut her off. "Why aren't I a member of the Jedi Order?"
"I understand that you have… frustrations… with the Order, but you are a Jedi, Jolee." Bastila carefully stepped over the corpse of a kinrath lying along the path as she spoke. "You command the Force. Without the Council to provide guidance, how can you stand against the temptations of the dark side?"
"Assuming there is a definitive 'light' or 'dark' side to the Force," Jolee said dubiously, "I've managed not to fall over the past twenty years or so."
"Do you doubt that there is a dark side at all?" Bastila responded incredulously. "You can't deny that the Sith are evil, that Malak's actions are borne of anything but the dark side."
"I want to stop Malak as much as the next guy," Jolee reasoned. "But I don't have to be a member of the Jedi Order to do so." He gestured at the veteran soldier walking alongside them. "Look at Carth, or your Mandalorian friend. They're along for the ride, but they aren't Jedi. Good or evil, and the capacity to act in either extreme, is inherent in all living things. Belonging to the Jedi or the Sith doesn't have much bearing on who someone is at their core. Explains why Malak was such a poor Jedi."
"I see you've had plenty of time to think about this," Bastila mused.
"Of course, what else is an old man supposed to do in twenty years of self-exile other than think?"
"I suppose it was foolish of me to think I could sway your opinion so easily."
"Can't knock you for trying, I guess," Jolee said, his tones lighthearted. "But for now, just think of me as any other non-Jedi in your ragtag group. With a lightsaber. And Force powers."
"Seems convenient enough," Carth mused.
The trees ahead began to thin out as they walked, and Seth pulled his jacket tighter around his shivering form as cold gusts of wind swept through the ever-widening gaps between the massive tree trunks. Eventually, they found themselves in a small clearing, where a fallen wroshyr tree had been hollowed out and turned into a sort of shelter from the elements. Seth squinted through the dark, peering into the alcove and only able to make out a mass of silver fur hunched over against the dark wood of the tree.
"Jolee, what is that?" he whispered, though as the creature turned its gaze toward the youngest Jedi, he knew the answer.
"That," Jolee announced, "is your crazed Wookiee."
Tal Vizsla was almost exactly as Canderous had imagined – fiercely and maddeningly Mandalorian. The apparent leader of the clan was dressed head-to-toe in traditional Mandalorian armor and had the stubborn attitude to boot.
Still, Canderous had earned his respect in invoking the code. Not that it really mattered. According to tradition, only one of them would be walking away with his life. They circled one another as their boots pressed into the soft forest floor of Kashyyyk's surface, the chanting of Tal's fellow clansmen from the sidelines breaking the silence of the night. Canderous held his heavy repeater casually, ready to hoist it and begin the duel when called upon. Tal's hands were held at the ready at his sides, fingers twitching in anticipation of unholstering the twin blaster pistols at his hips.
"So who's this fellow claiming to be Mandalore that sent you here?" Canderous asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to get into his opponent's head.
"Mandalore the Unknown," Tal replied casually. "And the name is quite fitting. I don't know from which clan or house he hails, nor how he came to assume the title of Mandalore, but he's doing more for our people than anyone has since the war."
"How would you know, Vizsla?" Canderous countered. "Your clan disappeared before the end of the war – you weren't even around the day Mandalore the Ultimate fell!"
"It was a shock felt across the galaxy," Tal replied. "Our clan suffered the loss just as much as any Mandalorian that day. But Mandalore the Unknown has risen from the ashes as Ultimate's appointed heir, and we're ready to follow him as he makes our people as feared as they once were."
"Appointed heir?! Mandalore wouldn't have appointed an heir had the man been standing across from him just before Revan brought his lightsaber down on his head! Do you take me for a fool?"
"Do you take me for a fool?" Tal's fingers glanced closer to his blasters as his temper flared. "We have no one else to follow right now!"
"So you'll follow anyone willing to usurp a title and claim that Mandalore himself chose him? I thought clan Vizsla was smarter than that. Unless this Mandalore the Unknown has Ultimate's mask in hand, he's no Mandalore at all!"
Tal's blasters were in his hands in an instant. "How dare you question Mandalore's authority?!" he snarled.
"How dare you bow to just anyone who decides to call himself Mandalore without any evidence to support his taking of the title?!" Canderous shouted back.
"Enough talk, Ordo!" Tal growled, the decibel of his voice rising to meet his opponent's. "You called me out to challenge me in single combat, not to lecture me on what it means to be Mandalorian!"
A thunderous crack sounding from between the trees surrounding the duelists caused both Mandalorians to stand at the ready, guns aimed at one another even as their heads turned towards the source of the noise. "What was that?" Canderous muttered. "A dishonorable trick to throw me off?"
"I don't need to compromise my honor to defeat you," Tal responded flatly, obviously more interested in what was hiding behind the trees. The crack sounded again, closer this time and, by default, louder. The Vizsla clansmen that had gathered to watch the impending duel turned their blasters toward the tree line directly behind them, prepared to deal with whatever threat was looming in the forest.
As suddenly and as swiftly as the initial noises had begun, the source revealed itself. A beast more formidable than any Canderous had seen on Kashyyyk so far crashed through the trees, rising to stand at a full height that rivaled that of most rancors. It roared, charging forward and sending Mandalorians sprawling as its tusks were driven low to make contact.
Canderous turned to Tal, heavy repeater still held at the ready. "Looks like we'll have to put this on hold," he grunted, before turning with the other Mandalorian at his side to face the charging terentatek.
It had been several hours since Seth and the others had left Rwookrrrorro, and Mission couldn't help but sigh heavily as she shifted positions yet again as she sat in the corner of Chuundar's throne room. The thought of the boy she'd grown to care for wandering the dangerous surface of the planet while she sat on her bum listening to the Wookiee brothers continue to argue in hushed growls infuriated her. "I should be down there with them," she muttered, untucking her legs from beneath her, and stretching the limbs that had long since fallen asleep.
"Between Seth, Canderous, Bastila and Carth, I can only imagine that things are moving smoothly down there," Juhani mused.
"Right, no, I get that," Mission recovered. "But just sitting here waiting for them to get back…I feel useless."
"Zaalbar needs you here," the Cathar Jedi encouraged. "You're doing the most good you can right where you are. Just as I am doing the most good I can in ensuring that in the case things go south up here, you and Zaalbar are granted the advantage provided by the Force."
"Yeah, you're right," the Twi'lek mumbled. "It's just tough, you know? I mean… what's happening down there?"
"I certainly hope nothing worse than realizing your brother is selling his own people for personal gain," Junahi replied, her catlike eyes darkening as her gaze flicked toward Chuundar. She'd managed to contain her initial anger, but when Mission had told her earlier what she'd overheard between the two brothers, she could have sworn Juhani was prepared to crush him with the Force.
Now, however, Mission curiously watched as Juhani glared down the chieftain. "I understand Wookiee loyalty," she said, "but why would Chuundar's followers sit by and let him enslave his own people?"
"What?" Juhani's brows arched in confusion.
"Look at you, Juhani," Mission pointed out. "You're enraged over the concept of enslaving these people, and they aren't even your people. I can't imagine the Wookiees would react to the injustice too differently."
"I don't understand the point you're trying to make."
"Maybe the Wookiees allow Chuundar to carry on with this crap because they don't know it's happening."
"I feel it would be difficult to hide," Juhani reasoned.
"Not if you have an intergalactic mega-corporation around to blame it on," Mission argued. "Think about it. Chuundar has closed-door dealings with Czerka to trade his people for supplies and money, then turns around and blames Wookiee disappearances and captures on them." She paused for a moment, glancing at her best friend's brother. "Huh. Gotta hand it to him, Chuundar's as clever as he is repulsive."
"So the Wookiees here follow Chuundar blindly?" Juhani asked. "Because they haven't seen any reason not to trust him?"
"The only one I know of who spoke out against him was Big Z, and because he was labeled a mad-claw his word didn't carry much weight… But what if we could tell the Wookiees ourselves? Spread some dissonance between Chuundar's followers?"
"It's a good idea Mission, but we're stuck here, and there's not much of a chance they'd listen to outsiders anyways."
The Twi'lek grinned devilishly. "Okay, but hear me out. You can draw information out of weak minds, Juhani. What are the odds you can plant information?"
Juhani went slack-jawed for a moment. "I… I've never tried that before. To be honest, such power is likely driven by the dark side of the Force."
Mission frowned. "I'm sorry, but I can hardly believe that stopping slavers is a dark-sided action. You don't need to control their minds… Just plant a seed of doubt."
Juhani sighed. "I don't know how this will work… but I will try."
The Twi'lek smiled at her friend, then turned to T3. "One Wookiee uprising, coming right up."
Seth couldn't help but keep his hand close to his lightsaber as he and Jolee approached the greying Wookiee, unnerved by the way the native was wildly eying them. The detail didn't slip by Jolee, who held a hand out in front of Seth defensively. "Don't draw your weapon, boy. You'll only encourage a fight."
The Wookiee recoiled as soon as they got within a few meters, growling fiercely at them. "[More of you Czerka filth? Is not even the heart of our planet free of your disease?]"
"Whoa, we're not–" Seth began, but Jolee cut him off.
"Calm yourself, Freyyr. We're friends – don't you remember me?"
"Freyyr?" Seth repeated, the name sounding familiar. "Isn't that–"
"[The only thing I remember about outsiders is that they're dangerous, and not to be trusted!]" Freyyr brandished a Wookiee longsword threateningly. "[And they're easy prey.]"
"Damn it," Jolee muttered, "this is going to be a bit harder than I thought." Seth's lightsaber was out in an instant, and he could hear Bastila's twin blades activating behind him. Both Jedi flourished their weapons, the blue and gold casting eerie shadows across Freyyr's wild face.
"No!" Jolee yelled as Freyyr let out a Wookiee war cry. "Don't hurt him! Please. He'll see reason, you simply need to disarm him."
"Are you crazy, old man?" Seth sputtered as he pulled his lightsaber up to block the Wookiee's first strike.
"I'm asking you to trust me," Jolee responded, shoving Freyyr back with a well-placed Force-push.
Bastila picked up on Jolee's strategy right away, and picked the Wookiee up with the Force, spinning him about in a whirlwind. Realizing how straining the action was on her ability due to the sheer size of their opponent, Seth pressed into the Force with her, spurring on her own ability.
It was a perfectly-timed blaster bolt from Carth that disarmed the Wookiee, striking against the hilt of the sword and sending the weapon hurtling behind them into the trees. Bastila and Seth promptly dropped Freyyr to the ground, holding him to his knees with the Force.
"[I… am beaten,]" the Wookiee grunted. "[Take my head, if you wish, Czerka slime. I'd rather die than live the rest of my life as a prisoner.]"
"We're not Czerka!" Seth exclaimed incredulously.
"Freyyr," Bastila said softly. "That is your name, is it not?"
"[It is, though I do not see why it matters. Who we are as individuals has never mattered to you outsiders.]"
"You were once chieftain of Rwookrrorro," Bastila said, more as a statement than as a question. Still, it caused Freyyr to glance up from the ground before him at the two young Jedi standing over him.
"Chieftain…" Seth muttered, pieces clicking into place. "So you're Zaalbar and Chuundar's father, then? You're not dead!"
This time, Freyyr looked and sounded more shocked than indignant, eyes wide and voice strained. "[Those are my sons! How… Why do you speak their names?!]"
"I came here with Zaalbar. He's a friend of mine, and Chuundar has him, along with our other friends, locked up in Rwookrrorro right now."
"[Zaalbar travels with outsiders?]" Freyyr asked dubiously.
"He swore a life debt to one of my crewmates. A crewmate I'd just as confidently trust with my own life."
"[Then… as he sees something in your people, so shall I in you. I'm listening. Cautiously.]"
"Chuundar sent us down here to kill you… his own father. That just doesn't add up," Carth mused. "Why would he want you dead?"
"[After Zaalbar's exile, I discovered the truth behind his claims – Chuundar was selling our own people into slavery,]" Freyyr recalled mournfully. "[By the time I confronted him about it, however, he'd sown the lie that I, too, was going mad, and he exiled me to the Shadowlands years ago with the blessings of our people to die an honorable death as a hunter.]"
"But why send you down here only to send someone to finish the job years later?" Seth asked curiously.
"[It may be that he's nervous now that Zaalbar is back. Chuundar has been carefully balancing his reputation ever since his brother's exile. If it were discovered that he's had dealings with slavers, his honor would be gone and with it his title as chieftain.]"
"Do you think the other Wookiees would turn against him?" Carth asked. "He seemed to have a pretty strong following."
"[Not as strong as you would think,]" Freyyr responded. "[If I were to return to Rwookrrorro and stand with Zaalbar, there has been enough doubt from our people in Chuundar's abilities and ambitions to at least cause the others to question him. Sometimes, that's all you need.]"
"So, what now?" Seth asked. "I believe you, and I want to help you, but my friends are stuck up there if I don't return with your head."
"Then it is up to you, friend of Zaalbar. You either kill me, or you allow me to do what I must."
"What you must?" Bastila repeated. "What does that mean?"
"[I need to get back to Rwookrrorro and confront my son. Now.]"
"Wait a minute," Seth said, holding a hand up to stall the conversation. "If you go start something up there, my people could be in danger. They don't have any weapons; they could get hurt." Instantly, visions of Wookiee violence flooded his mind, his friends cast easily and mercilessly to the side without their weapons to properly defend themselves. An especially nasty mental image of Mission's body broken underneath the brute strength the Kashyyyk natives possessed caused a shiver to run up and down his spine. He couldn't let that happen.
"[I must do this,]" Freyyr replied. "[If Chuundar finds out you did not kill me, then your friends may die anyways.]"
"Then I'm coming with you," Seth said firmly.
"You what?" Bastila hissed. She looked about ready to blow a fuse.
Seth turned to face her, green eyes piercing into grey. "It's not just his people at stake up there."
"[If you are to come, then we must leave immediately,]" Freyyr urged.
"Seth, I forbid you to go," Bastila commanded. "We need you."
"Look, Bastila, I appreciate your dedication to finding the Star Maps. I really do. But I can't let an uprising happen in Rwookrrorro without giving them some sort of backup."
"It's too dangerous," Carth supplied. "We should find another way."
"He's going regardless of whether I come with him or not!" Seth argued. "Who knows what could happen to them if I'm not there to at least help!"
"What're you gonna do up there?" the captain implored. His whiskey-colored eyes looked desperate and Seth felt a pang in his chest as he realized how worried his mentor was for him.
"Bring them weapons, give them some backup, I don't know. Something," he mumbled.
"Well, then I'm coming as well," Carth responded. "Someone's gotta watch your back."
"No, Carth, now that Canderous is off doing Force-knows-what, Bastila needs you here," Seth replied firmly. "And don't make me make that an order because I really don't want to pull Jedi rank on you."
Carth huffed. "You're gonna get yourself killed, Seth!"
"Nah, I have a crazy Wookiee on my side," he joked, pointing at Freyyr, who at this point had found his way back to his feet and picked up his sword from the previous battle.
"Seth, we're meant to find these Star Maps together," Bastila maintained. "How will I be able to open it on my own?"
"I opened the last one on my own," Seth reasoned. "And I have every confidence that you've got what it takes to pull this off. Especially with Jolee and Carth to back you up."
"I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" she sighed.
Seth smiled simply. "'Fraid not," he said with a laugh.
"Then I sincerely hope you're right," Bastila resigned. She turned to Jolee and Carth. "I suggest we move on. The sooner we find the Star Map, the sooner we can return to the platforms above and help Seth."
"You're not really letting him go?" Carth asked incredulously.
"He's a young man," Bastila murmured as she watched Seth climb up onto Freyyr's back so that the Wookiee could climb and carry them both up to the treetops. "He can make his own decisions."
"Hey, Bastila!" Seth called, just before Freyyr began their ascent. She turned back to face him, and he smiled down at her. "May the Force be with you."
With that, the aging Wookiee began climbing, and the two rapidly disappeared from sight. Bastila watched them for a bit until her eyes couldn't make out their shapes any longer.
"And with you, Seth Avery," she murmured into the night.