Chapter 37: Old Man Bindo

Selven leaned back in her chair and rubbed her blurry eyes, blocking out the stacks of reports on the public library desk. She was on to something, she knew it. They'd been to Taris, Dantooine, Tatooine, and from the reports of violence at the strategically unimportant planet of Kashyyyk, she would put money that they had been there, too. They were after something. The movement was too random for any other objective that she could think of.

And here, buried in this stack of reports, was the answer that would tell her how to find them. Somewhere. But what could they be after? What would be worth putting Bastila both out of action on the now-steadily-crumbling front lines, and at risk at the same time? It wasn't just important—it was vital. The only reason the Republic wasn't in full retreat now was the equally weird jumping around of Sith ships looking for Bastila, drawing away forces from the front.

It had to be something so decisive it was worth throwing away pretty much everything else. The Jedi, or at least the Jedi that hadn't followed Revan and Malak, were conservative to their core. This was bold, desperate. The only thing she could think of that would be that decisive, that huge of a reward, would be a way to stop however the hell the Sith were coming up with these endless waves of ships.

SIS had been after that answer for years now with nothing but a string of dead agents to show for it. Whatever it was, the secret was hellishly well guarded, and the Sith were up to their necks in it. And bluffing Sith was a risky business even at the best of times; now, with Malak all over the place and everyone on their guard, it was suicide.

She frowned. Could the Jedi have found something? They were already hiding one incredibly huge secret. Were they hiding another? No, that was unlikely. The Jedi couldn't keep even that secret for more than a year or two, there was no way they could be hiding another secret even more important. Okay, so what were they doing? Was it possible they were trying to . . . to redo it somehow? Remake the past? No, whey would they want to recreate that disaster? Unless . . . they were just trying to retrace the steps, follow the path to find where it went? That was a long shot, even by the Jedi standards.

Wait . . . there was something, something about those places, something almost . . . familiar. She sat up straight abruptly. Yes! There were rumors endless rumors about the time between the Jedi heroes' departure into deep space and return as the marauding Sith. There were countless reported sightings, but there seemed to be slightly more credible ones on a handful of planets. She'd dismissed them, as had everyone else, because it was absolutely ridiculous to imagine Revan and Malak, probably the most famous individuals in the galaxy, wandering around the backwoods anonymously. But if they weren't just taking a vacation while their armies hid in deep space, then they must have been up to something, looking for something. They'd had only their own forces before this little side trip, and afterwards, they'd had endless reinforcements of a design never-before seen. Was that it? Was that the connection?

And those sightings had centered on a handful of places, including Kashyyyk and Tatooine.

Her eyes lit up.

And Manaan.

Carth followed a few steps after Bastila, blaster rifle in his hands. They moved forward cautiously, their glowrods lighting just a few meters around them. He was uncomfortably aware that it also lit them up like spotlights. His eyes scanned the darkness, but behind them his mind wouldn't shut off.

He'd done it. It still wasn't quite real, but he couldn't deny what he'd done. He'd disobeyed a direct order from his legal superior right there on the battlefield and deserted his post. Or close enough, at least. Nobody ticked off the SIS and came out of it with their career intact. It was . . . he just didn't know what to think.

I believe in the Republic, in the rule of law, in all of it, but when it came right down to it . . . I just . . . What could he even say? And the worst thing was, he still thought it was the right thing to do. He shook his head, trying to clear it. No, no that can't be right. It can't!

He'd heard of lots of people who had had to abandon comrades, people they cared about, even family under stupid orders or bureaucratic snafus, but it had never happened to him before, in no small part because he'd been so careful not to care about anyone. Until now. And now he was out for good.

Dammit that can't be right, that's what the Sith did! They turned on the Republic because they felt betrayed by their leadership, abandoned by everyone but Revan. But this, this is different . . . right? The Sith are evil, the bad guys. Yes, it's different. It has to be.

Bastila stopped ahead of him, her eyes locked on something in the distance he couldn't see. He was grateful for the interruption, pulling him back into the present.

Bastila stared into the distance, though there was nothing there to see. Not with her eyes, at least. There was something . . . no, someone out there, just around this bend. She shifted her feet, wincing at the squelching sound as her boots shifted in the mud against the quiet of the forest. This . . . person, whoever they were . . . she couldn't quite figure it out. Her instincts cried out for caution, to be as careful as the Masters always warned her. There was no time! Kyrena was . . . something terrible was happening to her, even now. She had to hurry, had to take risks.

Is that what Revan said to herself? That she had no choice?

She'd always thought that was false, an excuse—there was always a choice. But out here, now, lost and virtually alone on a hostile planet, it sure didn't feel that way. "There is someone ahead of us, around another one of those large roots we've seen. I . . . I feel . . . drawn in, somehow. We should speak with them."

Carth didn't stop scanning around them as he replied. "What? I thought we had to get to Kyrena ASAP. What's changed?"

"Nothing, nothing has changed, it's just . . . I don't know. I have a feeling we need to do this."

Carth sighed heavily. He'd had enough of these Jedi 'feelings' to last a lifetime, but he had to admit, they'd been pretty effective thus far. They were still alive, after all. Bastila and Kyrena, and even Mission and Zaalbar, had earned the benefit of the doubt from him. Yes, he didn't trust easily, but once it was earned, it was earned.

"Alright Bastila, we'll do things your way. Let's try to make it fast, though. I don't like the thought of Kyrena and Mission out here on their own. Or us out here on our own, to be honest."

Bastila brushed away her mild sense of surprise. There was no time for it. She took a deep breath and marched forwards with far more confidence than she felt, and was grateful for Carth's steady presence at her back. She rounded the corner, hand tight on her lightsaber.

A human male sat on a log, most of his features obscured by a heavy brown cloak. He looked up at them, his dark skin making his features difficult to see in the night. "Why hello there. Who might you be, and what brings you so far down into the dark this evening?"

Bastila's knuckles were white on her lightsaber. This place . . . it felt like something could attack them at any moment, and just sitting here, waiting for it, grated on her nerves. "Who we are is of no consequence. Who are you?"

He laughed. "A, a Jedi it is then. Only Jedi try to pull off that mysterious mumbo jumbo."

Bastila frowned, glancing around the small clearing nervously. There was life all around them, but which of it was dangerous, which of it hostile? "What do you know of the Jedi?"

"More than I ever wanted to, deary. Come, follow me to my camp, this is no place for a proper conversation. I have cleared this area of kinrath, but more will come soon enough, and there are larger creatures wandering the dark this night. I wonder what has disturbed them so?" His words started to seem less and less directed at them and more and more towards himself as he rose to his feet, turned, and wandered off.

Carth and Bastila looked at each. The soldier shrugged. This was Jedi business, so until something went wrong, she had the lead. But he'd keep his rifle not quite leveled at the man's back all the same. He was no Jedi, but even he could tell there was something . . . off about this man.

The man looked over his shoulder. "Keep close! It's nearby under a log. Yeah, I live like some burrowing rodent. With all the things I've done, and look at me now, living in an old rotting tree, and I have to say . . ."

Thankfully the old man didn't live far away, as he continued muttering to himself the entire time they walked. And, though Carth hadn't quite believed it, he really did live in a hollowed out stump of an old tree, though it had been supplemented with bits of metal and even an old generator he'd scrounged up somewhere, though he had no idea how he fueled the thing.

The man held open the scrap-metal door and invited them inside. "Well, welcome to my home, such as it is. Pull up a stump and make yourselves comfortable. We should discuss a few things."

Carth felt himself start to relax as he stepped inside the place. It was bright and warm, a welcome change, but there was more to it than that. It was like the fog of oppressiveness that loomed over this place had been pushed back a bit. Maybe we'll get out of this after all. It didn't seem to be helping his companion, though.

Bastila didn't sit, she was too on edge for that. Kyrena . . . something is very wrong with Kyrena . . . She managed not to pace, but only just. "I'm sorry, but we have no time for a lengthy discussion. We're in a hurry. Who are you? And have you seen anyone else recently arrived down here? A Jedi?"

The old man leaned back on his battered old chair that looked like it had seen better decades, his arms crossed. He considered for a long moment, toying absently with his handlebar mustache with a stripe down the chin. "The name is Jolee, Jolee Bindo. Now, I'm sure you're in a hurry, but you have to take time to listen. Really, you're a Jedi! I thought that was what your type did, talk a lot and look around mysteriously at others like you know more than they do."

Bastila's jaw tightened ever so slightly as she heard Carth's suppressed chuckle from behind her. She shot him an annoyed glance over her shoulder before continuing. "I'm sorry to rush, but will you please answer some questions?"

Jolee allowed himself an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, yes. I suppose that's my lot in life, to spend years learning something so that someone else can be impatient to hear it. I'm too old for your posturing, child. If you have questions, then ask them."

"My posturing? I assure you I—" Bastila cut herself off, closing her eyes and taking a slow breath. She started again, keeping her voice calm with obvious effort. "Have you seen another Jedi here recently?"

"No, can't say that I have. The problems of a few wookiees don't amount to anything before the concerns of the Jedi. No, no Jedi have come here in a long time."

Bastila put her hands on her hips stubbornly. "That's not fair, and you know it. The Jedi always try to help when we can."

Jolee smiled and looked over at Carth. "Oh, yes, they like to help, but then, they always seem to find themselves in a hurry off saving the galaxy from something or other. No, never enough time, not even to sit down and have a conversation with a tired old man who's hospitality they're taking for granted."

Carth shrugged. He had a point. Bastila grimaced briefly before getting herself back under control.

"I apologize for any . . . inconvenience to you. I'll just ask a final question, then, and we'll be on our way." She looked him in the eye. "Have you any knowledge of Star Maps?"

Jolee stared right back at her, completely unfazed, for a long minute before finally responding. "Now why would you be asking about that, hmm?"

Bastila didn't answer, and Jolee shook his head with a smile. "Mysterious, right, I forgot. Well, let's see then. Kashyyyk is an interesting place, more so than anyone suspects. If Czerka Corporation knew, heh, the planet would be a strip mine. The wookiees have their legends that they were not always here, but it is more than that. The trees themselves are strangers."

"Wait, what?" Carth glanced at Bastila then back at Jolee. "These trees had to be thousands of years old!"

Bastila stamped on her impatience again. "I'm sorry, but I don't follow. Can you take us to the Star Map or not?"

Jolee rolled his eyes. "Young people, always in a hurry, never up for a good riddle. What I'm saying is that there are literally walls in your way, and you won't find what you need without my help . . . and my help has a price." He grinned. "You must do a task for me, and then allow me to join with you. I will then remove certain barriers in your path."

Bastila threw up her hands. "You have got to be kidding me."

Jolee laughed. "Save your indignation, kid. I know this sounds absurd, but I'm old and entitled to work you around a bit. Besides, the test is simple. Since they began expanding in the Shadowlands—"

He cut off as Bastila froze in place, her gaze locked on something in the distance. The bond was rife with darkness, a terrible blend of anger and pain that reached out to her, trying to grab hold of her with tentacles of madness. "Kyrena," she muttered to herself. "No, this can't be happening." She shook herself, coming back to the present and ignoring Jolee's probing look. "I'm sorry, but we honestly, truly don't have time for this. My friend, my companion is . . . dying. We must go to her. Now. Please, you must help us!"

Jolee jerked back like he'd been slapped. "Did you just use compulsion on me?"

Bastila gasped, half in surprise that he knew what compulsion was, and half at the thought of her using it on another sentient being. "No! I would never . . ." Her voice trailed off as she thought back, and she shuddered. That was exactly what she'd done. That was . . . that was wrong. Evil, even. To take advantage of someone so callously that she hadn't even thought about it . . . It was the Dark Side. Had it leaked through the bond? Had it gotten to her already?

She felt sick.

Carth was looking at Jolee very closely now. His robes were old and tattered, but if you ignored the grass stains they were the right color . . . "You're a Jedi."

Jolee rolled his eyes. "You got it all wrong, son. Jolee Bindo is the crazy old man in the dangerous woods. I'm content with my image."

Carth was unmoved. That wasn't an answer at all. In fact, that was a very Jedi kind of non-answer, to boot.

The old man sighed. "Well, if whatever the trouble is has driven a nice young girl like you to compulsion, it must be pretty serious. All right, I'll put my little task on hold and we'll go save your friend. Just let me grab a few things and we'll be on our way."

Kyrena lay curled up on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees while she stared blankly at a tree. She'd run out of tears fifteen minutes ago. She could feel Bastila distantly, filled with concern that verged on panic. She could feel creatures stalking closer, drawn to the smell of blood that splattered everything in the vicinity. Blood from a Sith. But all of that was distant, like leaves floating on the surface of a pond far above while she lay at the bottom, empty.

There was a monster inside of her. It was inside her. There was no way to fight that, no way to run, nowhere to hide. From somewhere far away she felt the faint impression of amusement. She'd thought the Dark One was the Dark Side. How stupid, how naive she had been. And probably still was.

She knew what the Dark Side was now, knew what did to you, what it cost you. Thankfully, she couldn't feel it now. But it was still there, waiting, on the other side of that doorway. The Dark One was there again, blocking it all off, facing the long night, never resting, never sleeping. Alone.

How long had she been there doing that for her? Kyrena couldn't even imagine what that would be like, what that would do to her. She'd helped to hold it back for a few minutes and she shuddered at the very thought of facing it again. The Dark One—no, that wasn't what she was. Kyrena kept thinking about the bone-deep sadness she'd felt from her, and all she could feel was pity. Somehow, in all the warnings she'd received about the Dark Side, she'd never stopped to wonder what it was like, how much it hurt while you were in its grasp.

Unexpectedly, the Dark One responded.

Don't pity me. This is my fate, my destiny, and I built this hellhole brick by brick with every decision I made. I was not doomed to this. I chose it. The voice chuckled in black humor. But that's the Jedi for you, so caught up in themselves they never thought about what it's like to be under the sway of the Dark Side, never bothered to imagine how those they cut down felt.

Kyrena shivered. Fine. But I can't keep calling you the Dark One. It just . . . it's wrong. I know what real darkness is now. And if you're not the Dark Side trying to tempt me, then what are you?

I . . . I don't know. I am . . . a ghost, an echo of someone long dead now.

Kyrena was too tired to go after her, to try to figure out what she meant. Too tired, and she felt guilty even thinking about it, now that she knew what she was doing for her every day. Every moment of peace she had was thanks to her. Fine. But what should I call you?

The Dark One hesitated. I . . . It . . . it is too dangerous. I warned you this path would cause you great pain if you went down it. Already it has changed you, but there is still a chance for you to survive it as you are. But you must turn back, must forget me, forget the darkness.

Kyrena shook her head. She couldn't do it. How could she ignore it, pretend she didn't know that someone was out there shielding her from harm? Pretend that there wasn't someone standing against the darkness in her place? That was too great a betrayal, too against everything that she stood for.

I can't do it. You have done too much for me, sacrificed too much for me. I can't forget you. Please, just . . . what do you want me to call you?

The Dark One sighed. Compassion was always your weakness. As you wish. I . . . I had a name once. You must promise never to share it, never to look into it. Please . . . for both our sakes.

I promise.

The Dark One sighed once again, her voice heavy with both gratitude and sadness. Then you can call me Akima.

The growl of something predatory and close interrupted their conversation. Kyrena looked up, taking in the pack of kinrath that skittered in on their four spindly legs, their single spiked arms flexing threateningly.

Kyrena reached for her lightsaber, which had fallen to the ground nearby when she collapsed as the madness finally left her, arm stretching. Her arm was weak, watery muscles straining even to lift her arm. The darkness had left her utterly spent.

The kinrath paused, confused, as a whistling sound filled the air from far above.

Something heavy slammed into the ground next to her, and the air filled with blaster fire that cut down two kinrath with deadly accuracy. The other three charged, raising their poisoned spikes. Another dropped like a sack of bricks, downed by a perfect head shot, and then a blur of motion was among them, a vibroblade stabbing with unerring accuracy into the remaining two, and then there was only one shape left standing.

"Greetings: Master, you appear to be in need of assistance. Smug Assertion: I knew I would be able to fulfill my primary function with you, Master. Please, feel free to groan loudly while you rest. I will take great pleasure in guaranteeing your safety from whatever may be drawn to you."

Mission slowly returned to consciousness to find herself being dragged across the ground by her left leg. Her lekku trailed behind her in the dirt, painfully jarring against every rock and stick. She felt panic grow, but it was distant, locked behind a wall of numbness. She felt distant, separated from her body somehow, like she was watching it happen to someone else.

She was being dragged by a wookiee. He was huge, a giant of matted, blood-stained silver fur and scars, and it finally sunk home that Zaalbar really was just as much a kid as she was. He still had a lot of growing to do.

The humongous wookiee pulled her into some sort of den made of fallen branches and bones, and turned to look at her. "Please," she whimpered, "please . . . don't hurt me."

The wookiee snarled, claws flexing half out of his paws. "More of you Czerka core-rats? Is even the heart of Kashyyyk not free from your kind?"

Mission huddled back against the leafy wall, poking her back with a bone that came from something she really didn't want to think about. "No, please, I'm not with Czerka!" She started babbling in panic. "I, I hate Czerka! They're evil! I just, I came here with Kyrena, I wanted to help her save people, you know, like we're supposed to, and Zaalbar was really nervous because this is his home, but we decided to come anyways, and then we were all talking with Chuundar, and—"

The old wookiee seemed surprised that she could understand him, then cut her off with a roar of anger. "Why do you speak the names of my sons? Tell me!" His fist slammed into the damp dirt beside her, and she flinched.

"Big Z, Zaalbar, he's—he's my best friend in the whole world, and Kyrena brought him here to help her with her quest, and—"

"He is a slave!?" The wookiee roared again and picked her up by the throat. Her feet kicked helplessly while her hands struggled in vain to loosen his grip on her. "Not—not slave—friend—gave life debt—please."

The wookiee hesitated, staring at her, then slowly set her down. She collapsed back into the damp dirt, gasping for air and coughing in equal measure. "Zaalbar has returned from exile . . . and he has given a life debt? Perhaps . . . perhaps there is something of worth in you. I will listen . . . cautiously."

Mission picked herself up, her whole body feeling weak with relief as it dawned on her that she might not be about to die. "You're . . . you're Big Z's dad?"

The wookiee nodded. "I am . . . I was Freyrr, once the chieftain of the wookiees."

"That must mean . . . Zaalbar is royalty? Wait, why did you exile him? Zaalbar is the nicest guy I've ever met, how could you do that to him!?"

Freyrr looked away. "Zaalbar came to me, told me that Chuundar was a slaver. But he was a madclaw. The shame of his attack blinded me, and I believed the elder boy, Chuundar, as tradition dictated. I was a fool."

Mission pulled herself up on her knees, looking up as the big wookiee paced, hoping he wouldn't get angry again. "Please, Zaalbar's never told me any of this. Could you . . . could you tell me what happened?"

"Zaalbar was the first to see. He learned that Chuundar was dealing with the Czerka, leading them to our hunting parties. Chuundar would blame disappearances on the dangers of the Shadowlands. Zaalbar was crazed when he found out. He attacked Chuundar with his claws. I thought he had gone mad . . . shed his honor. I was bound by the old ways, and I sent him away."

"So what happened when you found out Zaalbar was right?"

The wookiee growled again, making Mission flinch, but his anger wasn't directed at her this time. "It was a year later. By then, Chuundar had spread lies of my own madness. I had no allies when I confronted him. He and his Czerka guards attacked me. I had to retreat to the deepest Shadowlands, but even here they followed."

"That's . . . that's great, Freyrr."

The old chieftain stopped his pacing and looked down at the child twi'lek. Her eyes were dazed, the adrenaline leaving her system, and he saw that she was still bleeding from the deep gouges in her leg. Her eyes fluttered shut and she collapsed, unconscious once more.

Carth brought up the rear as Bastila led the way, her lighstaber in her hands, as she moved towards Kyrena. She walked briskly, periodically breaking into a jog before she restrained herself. Carth could hear creatures moving around in the darkness, but they shied away from them, whether it was from the light of their glowrods or just the fact that there were three of them he couldn't be sure. Some of them were bigger than he was.

"Kyrena . . . we're close now. Very close. Keep moving."

They broke into a clearing that had obviously seen fighting recently. There were several bodies splayed out on the ground, along with the carcasses of at least a dozen animals, as well as the dark carbon scoring he'd come to associate with lightsabers, and—

Jolee shoved him hard, and he stumbled to the side as a blaster bolt slagged a deep hole in the root where he'd just been. "What the he—"

"Ominous Warning: Do not approach the master. That was your final warning shot."

Carth rolled into cover instinctively, blaster rifle out and ready. "Wha—that was a warning shot?" he spluttered indignantly. Then he caught sight of the speaker in the distance. "HK, is that you? Is Kyrena with you? Dammit, did you kill her too!?"

"Reluctant Retraction: Ah, it is you. The master is here and unharmed. I have been instructed to allow you to approach. Irritated Addition: If you insist, I will guide you through the minefield."

Carth peaked out of cover reluctantly. Bastila and Jolee had never moved, just standing there, totally unconcerned by the droid's aimed rifle. And how did the droid get all those weapons, anyways? He shook his head in equal parts irritation and relief as his hammering heart started to slow again. Damn Jedi and their Force, making us regular folks look like fools. Still, the old man had just saved his life.

Bastila stepped forward quickly. "Kyrena, thank goodness you're—" She froze in mid-word, then whirled. "You, Jolee, how old are you? How long have you been down here?"

Jolee paused as well, puzzled. "Old enough to be getting on with. Why?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you come any closer." She held up her lightsaber. "Keep your distance."

Jolee quirked an eyebrow, then glanced at Carth, who shrugged. What the hell is going on?

"Come now, young one, what danger is an old man like me to a strapping young Jedi like yourself? What's the matter?" He took another step closer, and Bastila's blade snap-hissed to life, framing her face in bright yellow.

"I'm sorry, I can't answer that. Just . . . just stay back."

"Eager Agreement: Yes, he is a danger that must be eliminated!"

Jolee rolled his eyes. "If you insist. Kids these days, so sure they're right."

Bastila had just started to relax when a twig snapped in the dark to her left. She half-turned to the new threat when her lightsaber slipped out of her fingers. She squeaked in surprise, turning to grab for it, but it sailed through the air, deactivated, and landed in Jolee's waiting hand.

The old man tossed it carelessly to Carth, who was so startled he nearly dropped it. "Hang onto that for me, will ya son? I'm not comfortable with your friend here holding it for the moment, she's liable to do something foolish."

Bastila stared slack-jawed at the old not-Jedi as he walked confidently forward through the minefield as if the explosives were clearly marked and approached the droid and its fallen master.

"Hello there young one, are you the one that all this fuss is about?" He knelt at her side, ignoring HK's carefully leveled blaster rifle, and rolled her over. He stared at her silently, not moving or blinking, while Bastila and Carth hurried after him, Carth careful to follow directly in Bastila's footsteps. It wasn't like he could sense the blasted things, after all.

Just as they arrived Jolee stood. He turned and stared very hard at Bastila before speaking, his voice perfectly level, calmly deliberate, but with an underlying intensity he'd never heard from the man before. "What have you done?"

Bastila turned white as a sheet. "I didn't . . . they said . . . I mean . . . it, it wasn't my decision!"

Jolee glanced in Carth's direction then stepped closer to Bastila. They started a whispered conversation, and both of their faces were doing that total blank thing the Jedi were so fond of. Carth swore and turned his attention to Kyrena, who was starting to wake up.

He dropped to a knee at her side, taking in her battered form. There was blood on her face, though it didn't seem to be hers. There was a deep wound in her side, but it was healing already, and there was some burn damage, but other than that she seemed fine. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Seeing her like this, it took him back to their arrival on Taris. Everything was simpler then. Still scary as hell, but simpler. He was just a soldier, not some pseudo-spy keeping tabs on the Jedi, and she was a scout, not some half-trained Jedi in over her head. Just two soldiers, behind enemy lines and cut off, but they still had each other.

Her eyelids fluttered and a lopsided grin broke out on his face as she woke up.

"Hey there, army girl. Sleeping on the job again? I should have known."

She smiled faintly up at him. Her voice was raspy and weak. "Caught off-guard by a navy man. I'll never hear the end of it."

His grin faded and he glanced quickly at the still-arguing Jedi. He lowered his voice. "Look, Kyrena, something is going on. The Jedi know something about you, something they're not saying. I'm worried about you."

Kyrena's smile melted away and her eyes went blank as she retreated to a frightening world of destiny and powers he knew nothing about. "I know, Carth. I know. It's . . ." She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "There's something wrong inside me, Carth. I've felt it. It's—" She swallowed hard. "It's the Dark Side. It's there, and it's the most horrible thing I could have ever imagined. I've been thinking, and I think Bastila knows. That's why she never shuts up about the Dark Side, Carth, because she knows I have it. I'm . . . infected."

"What? Are you . . . are you sure?"

She nodded glumly. "It's awful, Carth. And when I lose control of it I . . . I do awful things. I think that's why Bastila was assigned to me. She's linked to me, she can tell if I'm losing it. And . . . and I think the Council sent Juhani to kill me if I lose control."

"What!?" Carth muttered furiously, keeping his voice low. "How can they do that? The Jedi aren't supposed to kill people if they can help it! And even if you're right, how can you sit there and be okay with that?"

She shrugged helplessly. "If it takes over, Carth, it would be a mercy."

Kyrena took his hands in hers and her eyes pled with his. "Please, Carth. Promise me. If I lose it, if the Dark Side takes me, please kill me."

"I . . . no! That's not going to happen, Kyrena. You're a good person, and you're surrounded by Jedi for crying out loud! It won't happen to you."

Kyrena shook her head. "It happened to Revan and Malak, Carth. To the very best. Remember, you told me once that if you can't trust the best of the Jedi, who can you trust?"

Carth shook his head more vigorously. "You, Kyrena. I can trust you."

"How is it different, Carth? If it can happen to them, it can happen to anybody. It can happen to me."

"No. You're, you're different, Kyrena. Special. I mean it." A light flash of red colored her pale cheeks for a moment. "You're the best Jedi I've ever met, the most . . . gah, I don't even know how to describe it."

Kyrena blinked, unsure what to say as Carth looked for words.

"Look, the Jedi, they're like a legend, a story. They're superheroes. Separate. Different. They struggle with this scary thing that means nothing to most of us, a boogeyman to go after them because nothing that scares the crap out of us normal people will even give them pause. They're in their own world. But not you, Kyrena." His eyes locked with hers. "Not you. You're still here, with me, in the same galaxy with the rest of us. You're a real person, a human being, not some fantasy. You still feel things, still care about the people you meet and their problems. And I'm not going to lose you to some dark power out there, alright?"

Kyrena didn't know what to say.

The Jedi stopped arguing, and Carth suddenly realized his hands were still in hers. He snatched them away and climbed to his feet, turning to the others. Their faces were blank, and he couldn't tell how much they'd heard or seen. "She's, uh, awake now."

Bastila's eyebrow quirked, her expression completely controlled. "So we gathered." Then her eyes slid to Kyrena and he was forgotten. "Kyrena, how do you feel?"

She shuddered, but climbed to her feet. "I'm . . . I'm alright, I think. There were three dark Jedi here, just like on Tatooine. I . . . I sent Mission away, and—Mission! We have to—"

"Wait, Kyrena, slow down. Tell us what happened."

Carth glanced between them, noting how the frantic rush to go rescue their companions was gone now that Kyrena was back with them. Something more was going on here, more than Kyrena's theory about her being . . . being infected, whatever that meant. He set his jaw. And if she's not going to watch out for it, then I will.

Kyrena paused, gathering herself, and continued. "It was . . . it was very dark. So dark. I . . . after I sent Mission away we fought. I was losing. And I . . . I think I . . ." She swallowed hard, refusing to meet Bastila's eyes. "I think I used the Dark Side."

Her statement was met by a loud, ringing silence.

"It, ah, it wasn't enough. The Dark Side, it's terrible, and it . . . it's not stronger. They were about to finish me off when HK arrived."

Bastila and Jolee turned to look at the droid, and Kyrena shot HK a sharp glance.

"Unhesitating Confirmation: Of course, master. The Sith were no match for our combined efforts."

Carth was staring at her again, his eyes narrow, but she couldn't afford to be distracted now trying to figure out what he was thinking. "After that, I was wiped out, exhausted. HK watched over me while I . . . recovered." She shrugged. "I think I can safely say that he's on our side."

Carth grunted. "He did just try to kill me, you know."

"He what?"

"Indignant Denial: If I wanted you dead, meatbag, you would be dead. I was merely confirming my initial estimate that the old meatbag is, indeed, a Jedi. To better protect the Master, of course."

Kyrena turned to stare down HK, hands on her hips, as she started to regain a little of her normal energetic self. "HK, taking shots at Carth is not an acceptable way test a theory about some random guy. But speaking of which, who are you, anyway?"

The old man smiled. "I'm Jolee Bindo, just an old wanderer who's been lost in the woods a little too long."

She blinked, and scratched her nose in thought. "Bindo, Bindo . . . that name sounds familiar. Wait, weren't you a Jedi Master?"

Jolee coughed. "A Master? I'm out of it for a little while and suddenly everyone sees me with fond nostalgia. I'm not dead yet, young one! I'll admit, it's flattering, but you're mistaken. Huh, Jedi Master, she says. I'm not even a Jedi."

Kyrena frowned, turning her full attention to the man. He was old, but not as old as his initial impression had led her to believe. He was maybe sixty, but a Jedi at sixty was as spry as a normal man at thirty-five. Plus some. And she sensed . . . she wasn't sure what she sensed, and she could feel Bastila's concurrence there, though the rest of her bondmate's thoughts were strangely muted.

"Forgive me, but what are you doing here?"

"Well, your friends here still owe me a job, but I'm here to guide you to the Star Map and then join your little party to see what comes of it."

His thoughts were deep, complicated, and hard to follow, but she was absolutely sure of one thing—there was more to it than that. "Why do you want to join us?"

Jolee laughed. "I thought that would be obvious. You presumably have a ship. I've seen all I wish to here. Isn't that enough? I mean, I'm really sick of the trees. And perhaps your destiny might show me something new. You never know."

Bastila broke in again, nervous to have Kyrena talking with Jolee. He was still an unknown quantity, dangerous. She couldn't think of any reason a real Jedi would leave the Order, which made her suspicious. "Well, so long as you're a servant of the light, you are welcome with us."

Jolee gave her an inscrutable look, then shrugged. The complete mastery of his emotions, thoughts, and expressions gave away nothing at all, and it was that more than anything that convinced her he truly had been a Master. "I've seen my share of the dark and the light. And frankly, both extremes annoy me. Of course . . . I have felt the rumblings of change . . ." He gave Bastila a comically sinister glance.

Bastila swallowed, worried. Was that some sort of oblique warning?

Kyrena shook her head and spoke with an utter conviction that was new. "You're not lost in the dark, old man, whatever you say."

Jolee looked back at her, curious.

Bastila broke in again quickly. "Yes, well, let's go find Mission, then we can find the Star Map and move forwards from there." She glanced back and forth between the Master and the Padawan. Keeping those two separated was going to be more difficult than she'd thought.