Chapter 34
No More
Her ears resounded with the sharp whistling of the wind which blew viciously past her, but Bastila paid no heed as the speeder bikes raced through the endless expanse of the Dune Sea. The others kept their eyes peeled on the horizon for any sign of potential Sand People raids, but Bastila's were fixed upon two people, one whom she loved and another she began to loathe.
Alongside her right rode Trask Ulgo – or, rather, what remained of him as a person. No-one dared to share a speeder bike with him, and HK-47 kept his hand close to his blaster, as if to shoot him at the first sign of deception. Whereas once Trask could be counted upon as one of the most reliable and positive-minded soldiers despite his Ensign status during her assignment aboard the Endar Spire, Bastila now felt nothing but an eerie anxiety towards him. The Trask she knew, albeit for barely a short time, was fiercely loyal to the Republic, brave, courageous, and was filled with a strong sense of duty typical to the House of Ulgo from which he hailed. No more.
He wished to help them not because he wanted to defeat Malak and rid the galaxy of the Sith threat, but because he wanted a pearl. A damned pearl.
Bastila's eyes then reverted back forward, staring at the back of Kael's head. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew deep down that the scars of his heart were far from healed. Perhaps they never would. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain he must be feeling, to put himself on the line constantly in order to protect the one he loved and adored, only to discover that her feelings for him only came about because he reminded her of someone else – or so he thought.
Such agony, she thought, sighing as her hands noticeably tightened around his torso. If only I could help him…
"You alright?" Kael asked in a strong voice after feeling her grip tighten, eyes kept forward all the while.
"Y-yes," she stammered back. "Just thought I let slip there for a moment."
The more she tried to empathize with him, the more she realized that all she was truly doing was creating increasing pain for herself. A striking headache began to form, and her head waggled side to side as she struggled to keep herself from falling off the bike and collapsing onto the sand.
I can't take this anymore…I just want to scream the truth out of my damn lungs…
No. You mustn't. You must let her speak to him when the time has come. It's only right.
I don't care. After manipulating and lying to him for so long, does she even deserve him?
Whether she deserves him or not, your duty is to protect him and fulfil the mission. Now is not the time.
Just want to hold him…Just want to tell him that…
Be patient. Soon enough, everything will go back to the way it once was. You'll see.
I don't want that. I want…more…
"Really, are you alright?" Kael asked, and Bastila at once felt her heartbeat quicken.
"Sorry," she replied. "This heat is really beginning to get to me."
"Just hold on a while longer. We're getting closer to our mark."
Fat chance, she thought, blinking in pain as a salty bead of sweat trickled into her left eye. Looking about, she felt rather embarrassed as the others seemed to not be affected by the heat much at all. Canderous travelled solo, as expected; Elena reluctantly grasped onto HK, not wanting to risk further demoralising Kael by being the one to ride with him; and Trask rode on with an unchanging grim expression on his face.
The Dune Sea was a truly massive place, so large that riding on a speeder bike seemed just as slow as walking the whole thing on foot. The deeper they went, the more anxious the became: stocked-up on supplies as they were, losing their speeder bikes to Tusken attacks in the heart of the desert was a death sentence in itself.
Just keep your focus. Stick together, and everything will be fi—!
"Gwoooeeehh!" roared the infamous voice of a Tusken warrior from a distance. The beads of sweat seemed to dry off her back in an instant as Bastila's eyes shot up, spotting no less than a dozen hostiles who fired upon them unexpectedly after they zoomed over a crest. A blaster bolt whizzed right past Bastila's ear, singeing several strands of her prized hair.
"We've got company!" Canderous shouted, jerking his speeder to the far right, not slowing down for a moment as he rammed his vehicle right into the gut of a Tusken. The warrior screamed out in pain the moment his body became impaled against the front of the speeder, before falling silent after he fell underneath and his head was crushed by the rear which slammed against the sand.
Without prompting, HK-47 raised his right wrist and shot two double-barrelled rounds of metallic shots, each the diameter of a thumb. The bullets tore through the forehead of one warrior with speed so great that they travelled further, striking another who was standing just behind him in the heart. Elena looked back in amazement and horror after they sped past the raiding party, before immediately turning her head away from the gruesome and bloodied corpses.
"You okay?!" Kael called back to Bastila after veering past the warriors on the left flank without further incident. Looking behind her, Bastila saw the Tuskens vengefully waving their weapons about in the air, no doubt cursing them in their native language.
"I'm fine, but we need to regroup!" she replied, clutching even tighter against him while peeping over his right shoulder. She was right: the party was travelling in virtually four different directions after being disoriented by the attack, and no effort was made at all to formulate a new planned route.
"We'll head right and catch up with them! Hold on!" he yelled, making a sharp turn and heading straight for Elena and HK who continued on in a straight line.
Then, chaos. In a split second, more Tusken warriors emerged violently from the ground, taking advantage of camouflage rags they draped over themselves while they laid in wait on the hot sand. One hail of blaster fire later, Kael lost all control of the speeder and they fell in disarray over a long downward slope. Thudding and rolling against the sand, Bastila hit her head hard upon reaching the bottom of the hill, blacking out amidst a chorus of Tusken roars.
-o-
Warmth…
Light…
A soothing touch…
Bastila opened her eyes to be met by the tender gaze of Elena, clothed in a beautiful white silk dress and her hair extending down her back in elegant waves while she was seated on the sofa of their private residence on Coruscant. No longer a Jedi, she relished in the newfound life of peace she came to enjoy. With no more war, conflict or Council to order them around, they were free to live the life that they craved for so long.
Her former Jedi tutor took her hand, placing it over a growing abdomen. It would no doubt be the chance for a new beginning, where she could treat the child with the same care and love that her father once held for her. Overjoyed, Bastila held her arms around her beloved friend, looking forward to a life of happiness as a family.
…Happiness?
Not a chance.
At once, Bastila felt her body freeze over and the strength leave her limbs. Her joints went numb before exploding with searing pain as a force beyond her understanding or ability to control took a hold of her. Her eyes bulged and contorted and her nails suddenly dug into Elena's back, drawing a cry of pain from her.
Panicking, Bastila tried to break free of Elena, desperate to get a grip of herself. No avail. Her arms drew themselves back, impervious to her attempts to control them. Her left arm viciously grabbed Elena by the throat, yanking her sideways and sending her collapsing onto the marble floor. Her right hand hovered over Elena's torso, calling upon the Force to do the unthinkable.
Seconds later, blood began to gush from Elena's mouth as she tried to free herself from Bastila's grasp. Her legs flailed about violently while she tried in vain to wrench Bastila's hand away from her throat, determined not to lose her unborn child.
Slowly and slowly, the vigorous resistance turned more and more into insignificant twitching. Bastila wanted to scream, but not a whimper would escape her lips. The tension began to leave Elena's cheeks and the livelihood in her eyes grew dimmer, her beautiful face awash with blood. A final gasp of breath came and her eyes started to roll back into their sockets when—
"Eep!" a tiny voice whimpered, causing Bastila's eyes to jolt open. Her face and body were drenched in sweat and her throat ached for water, as she felt her left hand gripping onto cloth. She jerked her head sideways, confused by the sight of a tiny two year-old girl who was reduced to tears by her violent gesture.
Shocked at what she had done, Bastila immediately released the child who ran away without a second thought, crying and whining all the way. With the young one out of sight, Bastila rubbed her eyes and shook her head as she regained her bearings. She wasn't bound down by and rope or chains – of that, at least, she was relieved. Her surroundings were also nothing to be alarmed about: she lay on a simple, yet comfortable single bed, with a lingering aroma of herb and vegetable soup filling the air. Her lightsaber lay on the bedside table next to her, allaying any fears regarding the place.
She groaned as she rose to her feet, tidying the bed before exiting the room and walking in the general direction of a muffled conversation elsewhere. She recognized the gruff chuckling of Canderous, accompanied by two other voices she didn't recognize, one belonging to a man and another to a woman.
The dwelling was far more comfortable than she anticipated. Whereas she dreaded the thought of having to put up with sweltering heat during the day and shivering cold at night out in the Dune Sea, the inside of this home that was surely in the heart of no-man's-land was more than enough to satisfy her. With a just-right room temperature, clean air and ample space to move, she felt a niggling desire to rest here awhile, eager to let her still-aching body recuperate further.
After strolling across an open courtyard, she turned a corner to come face-to-face with a woman of bluish-black hair and cold grey eyes. She had a splendidly beautiful look about her, with a rich, unblemished light-peach complexion. Her menacing and grim stare aimed at Bastila was offset by a pleasant aroma reminiscent of roses, strange enough. The child held in her arms immediately looked away and began to moan at the very sight of the Jedi.
"What the hell did you do to her?" the woman growled, her narrowed eyes giving a cat-like glare.
"I…who…what?" Bastila mumbled, shocked by the woman's sudden appearance.
"Calm down, Jena! She was just startled out of her sleep is all," the man insisted, drawing Bastila's attention. He was a relatively young man, perhaps in his late twenties, with hazel eyes and light brown hair that was neatly combed back by the sides. His face was certainly not clean-shaven, but was far from unruly, with slight stubble all around. He got up from his position on the couch next to Kael and approached her, extending a hand of greeting. "Dean Lars. I was a pilot for the Republic back in the days of the Mandalorian Wars. Jena is my wife, and this is our daughter, Amy."
Still irked by the fact that Bastila scared her daughter, Jena put down the child and reluctantly extended her hand in turn. "Jena Lars. Formerly of Clan Farr."
"C-Clan Farr?" Bastila asked, not knowing whether she was shocked more by the revelation, or the fact that Jena's grip was so strong that she could've sworn she was trying to hurt her. "But that's—"
"A Mandalorian Clan. Yes," Jena rolled her eyes, then crouched down to meet the gaze of her young daughter. "Amy, honey, why don't you go to bed? Mommy and daddy are going to be up for quite some time talking to these people." Her expression almost instantly turned from coldness to warmth when she spoke to her child.
"Nnnpff…," Amy mumbled, clearly tired but still full of curiosity regarding their guests. Visitors were rare – if they came at all – in these parts of Tatooine.
"Bed. Now," Canderous demanded, giving the child a no-nonsense glare that instantly struck several nerves. For one who normally kept his silence around strangers, Canderous wasn't hesitant at all to bark orders to the child, as Bastila noted.
"Okay…," Amy murmured, turning around immediately after being scared by the Mandalorian, taking one adorable toddle after another.
"Now then, would you like to be seated?" Dean gestured kindly towards an empty spot on the opposite couch between Canderous and Elena while he and Jena sat back down on the same couch as Kael, a low-lying wooden table separating the two. It was obvious that Dean was oblivious to the fact that the Mandalorian wasn't all too well liked by any in the party except perhaps for Kael. Still, Bastila felt much more respect and trust in the man than she had a first, given the fact that he carried and protected her all the way during their operations the previous night.
It was noted by Bastila that Elena and Kael were still as distant as ever, hardly exchanging glances, and it looked like it would stay that way for some time. Separate from the others, Trask sat alone on a single chair, a brooding look etched on his face.
After sitting herself down next to Canderous without complaint, Bastila spoke. "Thank you for looking after me. You must excuse me for being such an inconvenience to you, but there are so many questions on my mind, and there's no doubt that you'll be repeating yourself to the others just for my sake."
"No problem at all. Please, ask away," Dean said.
"First of all, what exactly happened out there? And furthermore, how is it that your family came to live out here, of all places? We're still in the middle of the Dune Sea, are we not?"
"Boy oh boy, where to start?" Dean sighed, scratching his head. "I was returning from my fortnightly trip to Anchorhead when it happened. You were ambushed by a large band of Sand People, and one of your speeder bikes was completely taken out. I arrived quite late onto the scene, but I can tell you that I saw Kael here standing over you and fighting them off with everything he had. Trask, HK, Elena and Canderous soon arrived to back him up, and I lent you guys a hand with the blaster cannons attached to my own speeder. Luckily you had no wounds, and so we brought you back here to our moisture farm to let you rest."
"HK's outside on watch, in case you're wondering," Canderous said. "Damn hardass is itching for more chances to exercise his trigger finger, seems like."
"I see," Bastila replied, peering at Kael who sensed her gratitude and looked back at her as she whispered softly. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Kael smiled, albeit in a noticeably forced way.
"Your friends introduced themselves to us while you were sleeping, so I guess I'll go through me and Jena's past so that you know where we came from," Dean spoke to Bastila. "I was a combat medic assigned to the 14th Battalion during the Battle of Dxun. I'm not keen on describing the aftermath in detail, but I can say at least that it was…brutal. I found Jena badly wounded in a muddy ditch not long after she was stabbed in the torso by a Republic marine."
"Should've seen us at our first meeting," Jena chuckled and nudged her husband on the side. "I thought he'd do what any other pissed-off and vengeful Republic soldier would've done with a wounded Mandalorian woman who was unable to resist at that point, but he didn't. Even when I had my knife to his throat warning him to back off and quit playing mind games on me, he continued to treat my wounds. I was really touched."
"I had to disguise her as a Republic soldier in order to bring her back to the flagship's medical bay, so I—"
"Stripped me down to my underwear then and there and changed my clothes with those of the asshole whom I had just killed. Still can't get it out of your mind, can you?" Jena laughed and slapped him on the back.
"Yeah," Dean admitted with a shy smile. "Republic scouts and retrieval teams were in no mood to allow for Mandalorian survivors. Not after what they went through. Even at the med bay, after it was discovered that she was in fact a Mandalorian and that I saved her, a private almost started a fight with me. The rest of them were egging him on as well – that's how much they wanted Jena dead, or worse. It took Commander Revan himself to put everyone back in their place after he intervened and ordered that Jena be detained for the rest of the war and that no-one should harm her."
"Lucky you didn't take an active part in Malachor, huh?" Trask scoffed.
"Tell me about it," Jena sighed and looked downwards. "From my cell, I thought my ears would bleed me dead when that Mass Shadow Generator activated. So many ships, warriors and soldiers…gone in an instant."
Bastila sensed far much more than the simple disappointment that a warrior would've felt after such loss. She asked Jena delicately. "Do you…have family?"
"I don't know what happened to them, if that's what you're asking," Jena muttered, crossing her arms. "I have a younger sister who fought alongside me on Dxun. After I was taken by Republic forces, I…I lost contact with her. Haven't heard from her since."
"After the final peace treaty was signed following Mandalore's fall," Canderous added surprisingly, giving Bastila hint that he wasn't a total stranger to Jena, "we were all deprived of our weapons, armor and battleships. The armor and weapons were confiscated and the battleships blown to bits in orbit while we were forced to watch. All hostages on both sides were returned, or allowed to go as they wished in Jena's case."
"I never would've been accepted back by my family after being held in captivity," Jena said. "Mother and father have always been fickle when it came to honor and discipline. Over the months, Dean visited my cell many times and treated me with kindness that I had never experienced before, and so I gradually fell in love with him. I decided to live with him after the war and to leave my old life behind."
"I always liked to joke that she went from being a warrior to a little princess," Dean joked.
"Who are you calling a princess, mister medic?" Jena laughed and pinched him on the ear lobe. "Besides, I think 'little' would hardly be the right word for you to use to describe a woman who's four years older than you."
"I can't help but notice that you and Canderous don't seem like strangers to each other at all," Bastila said to Jena. "Do you have some history between you, by any chance?"
"Sure do. I got to know both Canderous and his wife Veela quite well during the last months of the war, when we were being pushed back by the Republic. Especially on Dxun, when we were reduced to defending that one single fort which almost brought Revan's ground forces to their knees. Canderous and Veela were explicitly ordered by Mandalore himself to accompany him in making a breakthrough out of the Republic blockade and head back to planet Mandalore to regroup our forces. While I sent my sister away, I chose to stay behind because…," she went silent, a pained look growing across her brow. "I…I don't really want to talk about why. I just stayed back and barely managed to survive and stumble out into the jungle. Dean's already recounted what happened since then."
"What about you, Dean? Do you have family elsewhere?" Elena asked.
Dean looked down, a bitter half-smile on his face. "I did. This is all I have left now. I'm in the same boat as you, Elena."
"Figures. War takes such a heavy toll on everyone," she exhaled, her eyes wandering towards Kael.
"I was my parents' only son," Dean explained. "Father died of a heart condition when I was ten years old. Mother absolutely struggled to raise me on her own on Coruscant, so around three years ago, I volunteered for the medic corps in order to spare her the burden. She was heartbroken to see me leave, but was at least gladdened by the fact that medics weren't exposed as much to the front line. I didn't have any use for anything much other than my regular food rations, so I made sure that my full pay was transferred directly to her. Because Jena couldn't return to her homeworld, I looked forward to bringing her back with me to start a new life and take care of mother. But…in the end, my mother passed away from illness before I came back." He leaned forward, his elbows digging into his knees as he stared glumly at the floor. "All I could come back for was the funeral."
A moment of silence followed, where everyone allowed Dean some time to get over the painful thought. Even Canderous, usually so stalwart and not used to showing soft emotions, looked away briefly, still haunted by the death of his niece at the hands of the Fetts.
"There was nothing left for us on Coruscant after his mother died," Jena continued, taking over from her aggrieved husband. "We didn't exactly live in fear, but we were certainly uneasy as other returning Republic military personnel who knew us didn't take to us kindly because of me. I offered to simply leave and find my own way in order to spare him the trouble, but he insisted that he didn't want to part from me. After taking three months to sort everything out, we married in a private ceremony with only the celebrant as a witness and then moved offworld with Amy."
"Come again?" Trask questioned. "You moved offworld with your daughter after just three months? But how can that be if…"
"She's not our biological daughter, if that's what you're asking," Jena replied, seeing where he was going with it. "You really think we could've done it in a maximum security detention cell aboard a starship? Hah." She then peered at Canderous with a tired expression on her face. "Wanna take over, boss?"
"The girl's real mother is dead," Canderous grunted matter-of-factly. "Butchered by members of Clan Fett wielding swords while she was unarmed – you can always expect them to sink that low. Our Clan Ordo surveyed the planet after the carnage, and while we were at it, Veela and I discovered her crying hidden away in a straw-weave basket with her mother's corpse lying barely a few feet away. There was a toy bear with her name stitched onto it. Veela adopted and kept her aboard Clan Ordo's flagship until our final defeat over Malachor V. After seeing Jena's name in the prisoner of war records aboard Revan's flagship following the final peace negotiations and taking some time to talk to her, Veela decided to hand Amy over to her. She knew that she would have no time to raise an infant when Mandalore was dead; the entire clan would inevitably need to be on high alert after the power vacuum formed."
"Poor kid…to have gone through something like that at such a young age," Elena remarked, taking great pity on her.
Jena nodded somberly. "She knows her past well. It's remarkable that someone as young as her remembers things so vividly, but…it was particularly horrifying. She still has nightmares every now and then, and I need to calm her down."
"I always found it ironic," Dean snorted. "She keeps on crying in the arms of her Republic dad, but quietens down quickly in the arms of her Mandalorian mom."
"Maybe she just likes the sound of my voice," Jena teased with a smile. It wasn't hard to understand why – incensed, her voice was fear-inspiring as a Mandalorian's was expected to be, but when calm, it was luscious and comforting like soft, velvety chocolate.
"Don't you ever miss and want to visit the Core Worlds again? It must be hard to live out here, of all places, just the three of you," Bastila asked.
"No," Dean shook his head. "I've seen more than my share of war, especially after Dxun and Malachor. The moment I heard on the news that the Senate might introduce an emergency draft, I made up my mind on the spot. I do feel bad to see others go off to war in my place, but I've had enough. I just want to live with Jena and watch Amy and our future children grow up."
"Self-imposed AWOL exile," Trask chuckled. "I haven't stopped enjoying it either."
Dean peered away from Trask, slightly unnerved by the dark figure's attitude. "Figures. Although, I'm glad that Carth is okay and happy now. Force knows he deserves whatever source of joy he's got now after the hell he went through."
Bastila's eyebrow rose. "You know him?"
"Yeah. I told the rest of your friends here that he was my mentor during my brief stint in flying a couple of fighters during the old war. It's good to hear that he's found someone again. What's she like, if I might ask?"
"The kind of woman that no man should ever piss off if he wants to keep his vital parts intact, that's for sure," Canderous laughed. "Former assassin and operative type. Excels at killing people in their sleep, or otherwise when they least expect it."
"Oh…," Dean audibly gulped. "I see."
"And to think that you said that you had it tough with a former warrior like me?" Jena elbowed her husband in the rib. "Well, technically I still am. I still need to split our fortnightly trips to Anchorhead with Dean, Tusken Raiders and all. I'd die of boredom just sitting here."
"That reminds me," Kael interjected. "If it's alright with you, would you please tell us about the Sand People tribes that live in these parts? There's still the matter of tracking down the Star Map, among other things, like we told you." He briefly looked at Bastila after spoke, and she at him.
"Ah, of course," Dean answered. "If it's any help, I know the exact location of two Tusken Warrior tribal camps around this region of the Dune Sea. Depending on whether you see it as a stroke of luck or misfortune, I ran across one tribe's scouting parties a few months ago. Seeing as I had no choice, I struck a deal with them – moisture vaporisers for protection."
"Protection? From Sand People? Against what?" Elena asked, puzzled by the very thought.
"Another tribe," he replied. "It might seem foolish and pointless to people like us, but the Tusken tribes are locked in a never-ending tribal war nowadays. The tribe we supply water to lies directly between our home and another tribe. That other tribe is a lost cause. No negotiations, no talking. Just battle. They're the exact tribe that attacked you early this afternoon."
"I'm surprised you even managed to communicate with Tuskens, of all species," Trask remarked. "Just how in the hell did you do it?"
"They had a rather advanced translator droid that was originally designed by a Sullustan engineer and scholar in Anchorhead. It was booty from a past raid by them on a group of hunters."
Kael rubbed his forehead, not entirely convinced by the proposed idea. "But how do we know that that's the exact camp where the Star Map is located? Moreover, how do we know that the tribe won't be hostile towards us?"
"The Star Map I won't be able to be of much help with, I'm afraid. But I can definitely get the reasonable tribe to at least talk to you without shooting you where you stand. Perhaps they'll be able to give you guidance. Surely they must have their own stories, or 'legends', if my knowledge regarding rumors of Tusken traditions are right."
"Heading out into the desert effectively on a wild goose chase. I don't particularly like the sound of that," Bastila sighed.
"I don't think it'll be like that, Bastila," Elena tried to assure her. "Once we reach the first Tusken camp, they should be able to tell us in detail where the other tribes are located. One clue will lead to another, and we'll surely find the Star Map in due time."
"Track down the first camp, talk, follow the trail to the Star Map, then we're done. Sounds simple enough to me," Trask smiled deviously. "Let's just hope that I find my pearl while we're at it."
"Not really, no," Dean shook his head. "You'll need me to go with you."
"You don't have to, Dean," Elena insisted. "You've gone through the trouble of rescuing us, and you've gone even further and allowed us to rest here for the night. We can't ask any more from you, let alone allow you to put yourself in any more danger for our sake."
"Danger? Not at all," Dean laughed it off. "I have a way for the friendly tribe to recognize me. All I have to do is attach a flagpole with a large red flag onto my speeder bike, and they'll let me pass without incident. Hell, they won't even pop up from their hiding places. You'll need me to come with you, though."
"Huh? Is that so?" Jena yawned, sounding rather displeased.
"Eh?" Dean turned to his wife.
"You've been out for a stroll three times this past week already. Isn't it my time to stretch my legs for a change?" she said, leaning back and putting her hands behind her head to show her boredom at sitting around all day in the house. "Besides, they know both of us by our faces, and Amy's been missing you these days because of your long trips."
"R-really?" Dean stammered, scratching the side of his head. "You're definitely sure about—"
"Yes. I'll be going. You'll stay here and take care of Amy," the former warrior answered with a strong air of authority, bordering on a direct order.
"Oh…okay," the former medic murmured, causing Bastila to subdue the urge to laugh out loud.
Audrey should be here to see this. Carth, too, she noted inwardly, drawing a smile. But then, a more somber thought came across her mind. She had to ask.
"Erm…I'm probably asking this in vain, but…," she said, almost hoarsely with a voice that was close to lacking any vitality whatsoever. All of a sudden her lips and throat felt parched, and she gasped for water.
Seeing Bastila's sudden shift, Jena got up from her seat and headed to a nearby table, from which she grabbed a glass of water. Returning, she handed Bastila the glass. "Yes? Go on?"
"Thank you," Bastila said. Several minutes of conversation had, thankfully, lulled Jena's once infuriated attitude towards the Jedi Knight after Bastila had frightened her daughter. "Barely a few days ago, I received news that my father was taken by Sand People during a treasure hunt out in the Dune Sea. Surely you haven't seen or heard about him?"
"Sorry. Haven't heard a word," Dean answered, dismayed. Then pain of losing a parent was still fresh in his memory, and he empathised with her pain.
Bastila looked down with a dejected face. "Oh…never mind, then."
"Isn't there any way we can track him down? I don't want to just let this go. I want to help find her father," Elena spoke up, determined to put her old Padawan's mind at ease.
Jena looked at Elena in silence for a brief moment, intrigued by how emotionally involved she was in the search despite being a Jedi. A thought hit her, prompting her to speak. "Now that I think of it, the tribes around these parts are encamped just a few hours away from the prime hunting spots that are frequently targeted by hunters. With luck, the tribe we deal with may have information on his whereabouts – or even have him in their custody."
"What are the chances that he's alive?" Bastila said, heartened by even the slightest possibility of her father's survival.
"A coin's toss at best," Jena muttered. "If he wasn't killed in the initial ambushing spray of fire, then he may be kept captive, either to be used as a slave or collateral in bartering. Either way, it's best if you head out quickly at first light tomorrow if you want to find him. Time is against you."
"You can sleep anywhere, in the spare bedroom or around these spaces, for tonight. Rest up – tomorrow's going to be a big day," Dean said.
"I was about to say, this place sure is mighty spacious just for two adults and a toddler," Canderous remarked.
"I'd prefer to wait until Amy hits five years old before adding to the nest further," Jena replied, sounding like it was a decision made and set in stone some time ago. "I can't imagine two or more toddlers running around the place screaming and laughing at the top of their lungs and breaking furniture as they go. It'd drive me insane as a mother."
Dean shuffled rather uncomfortably on the couch before Kael relieved him by taking the attention away. "Well, we must thank you for your hospitality. You're too kind for letting us stay here for the night."
"Don't mention it," Dean smiled, rising from the couch along with everyone else who followed suit. "Anything for friends of my old cap."
All started to go their own ways to get rest for the night, Jena and Dean headed down the corridor to the bedroom wing of the complex, presumably to check on Amy. Although her bones and muscles ached for the comfort of the spare bed once again, Bastila hesitated, suspecting that Kael was in greater need for it after he went through the trouble of protecting her against the Sand People raid. She knew too well from past experiences that whenever Kael insisted that he was fine, or acted unhurt after a fight, the opposite was true.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Trask skulking away to the rear of the house. The former Republic ensign, once so full of life and unflinching in putting his life on the line to carry out his duty, now looked fit only to blend in with the lowest dregs of society.
She distrusted the man. Utterly and irreversibly. Fallen as he was, he was no ordinary scavenger.
The Sith did something to him, and she was determined to find out exactly what.
She followed after him, meanwhile completely failing to notice that Elena had taken a still-sullen Kael by the hand, leading him to the courtyard outside.
A/N: There's been an improvement in updating compared to the last time around, but I'm still sorry for the huge wait. I'm yet to update either of my two other ongoing fics, so the next chapter for Torn will probably take a while.
After initially deciding last year that Dean and Jena would be part of Tatooine, I was on the fence in recent weeks on whether I should go ahead and include them or not. I ultimately decided to include them, because rest assured, they're not just easter eggs in making references to the Lars family in the films. Dean was even going to have the surname of Skywalker as an easter egg, but I eventually turned it down in favor of Lars in order to maintain the 'mystery' behind the Skywalker family's past beyond Shmi.
Anyway, it's always great to bring you guys an update. Hopefully the next one will come sooner rather than later!