Meetra felt the heavy thud of the Ebon Hawk's landing beneath her feet as she strode down the corridor from the starboard dormitory. She'd spent most of her time there in the last week since they'd left Telos, due both to her exhaustion and the tension on the ship. The Handmaiden rarely emerged from the cargo hold, but when she did, Atton and Bao-Dur would practically flee the common areas until she returned. Meetra hadn't even seen Kreia since their departure. Every time she'd thought to check in on her, she'd felt an overwhelming unease, perhaps not entirely her own. If the old woman wanted to be left alone, Meetra would respect that.

As she passed through the main hold, she kept her eyes averted from the rust-colored droid standing in the small storage compartment. Discovered shortly after takeoff, Meetra and Atton had wanted to jettison it due to the uncomfortable resemblance to the HK-50s, but T3 wouldn't hear it. Though reluctant, the little droid was adamant they leave the doppelganger where it was, and despite her misgivings, Meetra agreed. It was nonoperational anyway, though T3 suggested it could be restored with replacement parts.

"Thing's the galaxy's most terrifying scarecrow." Atton emerged from the corridor to the cockpit and fell into step beside her, grimace still in place as he looked away from the droid. "Still don't understand why the little trash can wouldn't let us space it."

"He said it's a 'friend,' although he didn't sound entirely confident." Meetra frowned as she recalled T3's explanation. Her Binary was near-fluent, but some of the more complex translations still gave her a little trouble. "'Friend' might be too strong… perhaps 'ally' is closer."

"Oh, so like Kreia. Or the Snow Princess." He made a face. "Droid Kreia. There's a fear I didn't know I had."

"Don't start," Meetra warned, but she returned his grin. "How's your arm?" After much grousing, she'd finally relented and allowed him to remove the sling the day before.

"It's fine. Look —" He lifted the arm and rotated it for proof, though Meetra noticed the full range of motion had not completely returned. "Trust me, this is nothing." Recalling the scars crossing his torso, she knew he was serious, joking tone aside. Atton brought his hand to the back of his neck, a gesture she'd come to associate with discomfort. "So… you've been to Dantooine before, right?"

"I grew up there." She left it at that, and he didn't press. "... but I haven't been back since before my trial." The thought brought back memories, both painful and pleasant, and she shied away from them. It felt like they belonged to a different person now.

Bao-Dur was at the workbench when they entered the garage, T3 at his feet. A new remote droid circled his shoulders and let out a sharp chirp at the sight of them. The Zabrak turned, sharp canines displayed in his welcoming smile. "On your way out to Dantooine, General?"

"Actually, I stopped by to see if you wanted to go with us." Meetra didn't see the sharp glance Atton gave her at the0- last word, or the small smile that tugged at his mouth.

Bao-Dur didn't answer immediately; instead, he glanced back to the mess of circuitry and wiring on the workbench. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer to stay here for now. I had my fill of excitement on Telos." His grin returned. "Besides, there's something I wanted to work on; a surprise initially, but I'm afraid I'll need your help with it after all." He rooted among the pile and produced the lightsaber component Chodo had gifted her. "I hope you don't mind, General — I found it in your bag when I was looking for a medpac. I know your lightsaber was… well, I thought you might want to construct a new one, and I wanted to offer my assistance."

Meetra eyed the cylinder like it was a fanged viper. To have a lightsaber again, to build a new weapon to her specifications — the temptation was strong. But so was her upbringing. "It's a Jedi's weapon, Bao-Dur. I don't…" She struggled to find the words. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for the offer, but she wasn't sure it was a weapon she should, or even could wield again.

"It might make us even more of a target," Atton offered when she fell silent. "I mean, sure, having a lightsaber to wave around would solve a lot of problems, it would also make the Exchange's job a lot easier."

"A fair point." Bao-Dur returned the piece to the workbench, seemingly unperturbed. "However, if you change your mind, my offer still stands, General. The only thing I need are the remaining parts and your expertise."

"I'll think about it," she promised and reached out to squeeze his arm. He laid a hand over hers, mouth turned up in a small smile, before returning to his project. Meetra waved for Atton to follow, and they resumed their walk toward the loading ramp, only to pause when T3 followed, beeping, in their wake. "Meetra knelt to put herself on the droid's level. "You sure? It could be dangerous." His indignant chirp pulled a laugh from her as she stood. "Alright, fair enough. I guess we have a third."

"It's coming withus?" Atton scowled down at T3, who issued a rude buzz in return. "Tin can'll probably get a rock in its treads as soon as we're off the ramp."

"He survived Peragus and Atris — I think he can take care of himself." T3 extended his taser and flamethrower attachments and waved them to back up her claims. "I'll take all the help you can offer, T3." He chirped, pleased, and rolled past them toward the loading ramp. Meetra followed, Atton, still grousing, at her heels.

The setting sun hit them full force as they left the ship, and Meetra raised a hand to shield her face while her eyes adjusted. She registered the smell next, and her knees suddenly felt weak. Beneath the ship exhaust floated the thick grassy scent of Dantooine's fields, spiked with the barest hint of lavender. The smell had haunted her dreams since leaving twenty-six years ago, and for a moment, she let herself pretend she never had. The breeze blew another whiff of lavender past her, cutting through the late afternoon heat, and she leaned into it for comfort.

A hand touched her shoulder. "Meetra?" Atton's voice shattered the illusion, and Meetra pulled herself from childhood memories with a heavy sigh. She lowered her hand and opened her eyes to find him watching her with concern. She gave him a reassuring smile, and he hesitantly removed his hand as she turned to look around.

They had landed at a rudimentary dock, one she didn't recognize. It still seemed fairly new; either it didn't see a lot of traffic, or it had been built after Malak's attack on the planet. The dock was little more than a durasteel pad with enough space for two large ships and heavy retaining walls. No other ships occupied the platform, though a few figures ambled across its surface. One of them, a dark haired woman dressed in a yellow and tan uniform and wielding a datapad like a club, approached. "Name?"

Meetra glanced at Atton quickly, but he only offered a shrug. "Ours, or the ship?"

"I couldn't care less what your names are." The woman's attitude was impressively brusque. "I need to make a log of your arrival. Vessel name?"

"The Ebon Hawk."

The woman snorted. "Yeah, okay. We'll go with that. Wouldn't mention it to the locals, though." She entered the name into the datapad. "What's the purpose of your arrival?"

Meetra shared another glance with Atton and opted to conceal their true intentions. "We're heading to the Jedi Academy."

"More salvagers huh?" Meetra frowned, but the other woman was focused on the datapad. "Well, you gotta follow protocol like the rest. Nobody sets foot in the ruins without Administrator Adare's permission." Finished with the data entry, she turned and pointed at the path leading away from the dock. "Follow that up to Khoonda. Don't get off the path, unless you like finding yourself ass-deep in kath hounds and raiders."

"Wait, wait." The woman scowled at Meetra, her face as severe as the bun on top of her head. "Sorry, I just need a little more information. What's Khoonda?"

"First time on Dantooine?"

"... Sure."

The woman shrugged. "It's as close to city hall as we have around here. It used to be the Matale estate, but the whole family went missing right before the bombardment. The Administrator took advantage of a big empty building and rebuilt it as a new center of government four years ago."

"That's Adare?"

"Yeah, Terena Adare. She was the Agriculture Administrator, y'know, before." She grimaced, and Meetra felt strangely guilty. Even though Malak's actions had been his own, she still felt responsible for him and Revan. "Adare was the only government official to survive, and she stepped up in a big way. If not for her, this place would be nothing but raiders and wild animals. Well, more than it is now, anyway." She jerked a thumb toward the path. "Now, no offense, but I've got work that needs doing. You want more information, the Administrator can give it to you." Without waiting for a response, the woman turned away, headed toward the far end of the platform.

"Well, that was pleasant." Atton glanced around the dock, eyeing the farmers and merchants milling about. "So, are we really wasting time with this Adare lady? You know where the Jedi Academy is, right?"

"I'd rather avoid antagonizing the locals, if possible. Besides, she might know where Vrook…" Meetra trailed off as she caught sight of a battered protocol droid stumbling near the entrance to the dock. His exterior was so scratched and pitted that the original color was indiscernible.

Atton glanced at her, then followed her gaze. "I think we've got enough droids for one ship. Maybe one too many." T3 hissed at the insinuation and rolled closer to Meetra.

"No, I… I think I've seen him before."

"Sure you have. They all look the same. Well, maybe not as run-down."

"No, I mean —" Meetra shook her head and broke away, heading for the droid. "Never mind."
"Meetra." When she didn't turn around, he glanced down at T3 and gestured after her. "Come on."

They caught up with Meetra as she reached the droid. It took him a moment to react to her presence, an indication of extensive sensor damage. "Salutations, ma'am. I welcome you to Dantooine on behalf of Administrator Adare and Khoonda. How may I be of service?"

"Do…" Meetra hesitated, questioning her own judgement. "Do you know me?"

The protocol droid was silent for a moment, and Meetra could practically feel the heat from his memory core as he struggled to process her question. "Apologies. There are many visitors to Khoonda, and I have no memory of the Sith invasion."

She stiffened. "'Sith invasion?'"

He jerked, the light behind his optical sensors flickering. "Resetting… Salutations, ma'am. I welcome you to Dantooine —"

"T3, could I get your help?" The astromech chirped and rolled up next to her while she waited for the protocol droid to finish his greeting. "Were you damaged in Malak's bombing?"

"I believe I was, though I don't recall it." He fidgeted for a moment. "Administrator Adare did her best to find a mechanic, but self-diagnostics still indicate extensive damage to my exterior and memory core."

"We could try to repair you," Meetra offered, including both herself and T3 with a gesture. "At least internally. With your permission, of course."

"Do we have time for this?" Atton muttered behind her, but Meetra ignored him.

The protocol droid glanced nervously between them. "I suppose it couldn't hurt, but I must warn you that Administrator Adare may be displeased if I am further damaged."

"We'll be careful." He turned so she could access the panel on his back. Meetra swung it open, setting the droid to low power before motioning T3 closer. Atton craned his neck to watch them work. "Care to fill me in?"

"I think he's an Enclave droid. If I'm right — T3, wire these circuits together, please — he might know where Vrook is. Or at least, what he's doing here."

"Besides hiding?"

"Vrook's smarter than that." Meetra pulled her hands out of the protocol droid's chassis to give T3 room to solder safely. "Malak may have bombed the surface, but Dantooine was always known for the Academy. The old man wouldn't risk coming here if there wasn't a reason." T3 let out a sharp tweet and slid back. "Thanks, T3." She returned the droid's power to full and closed the panel, waiting until he turned to face her. "Do you know me?"

"Of course." His voice was suddenly enthusiastic. "So good to see you again, Master Jedi."

"Hey!" Meetra glanced up sharply. An old man in farmer's garb approached, his face set in a furious scowl. "What did that droid just call you?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. "It called you a Jedi, didn't it?! I heard it!"

Meetra opened her mouth, scrambling for an excuse, but Atton's hand fell on her shoulder as he stepped between her and the farmer. "Do we look like Jedi?" An easy, lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and he held his arms out loosely to either side; the very picture of friendly and easy-going to the untrained eye, but Meetra noted the stance gave him easy access to his blasters.

The farmer glanced at each of them in turn, taking in their weapons and lack of armor. "Well, no, but… I heard the droid call you Jedi; I know it did."

"Yeah, but look at it." Atton chuckled, and the old man answered with a weak laugh of his own. "Busted old clanker probably mistakes someone for a Jedi every other week. Your Administrator should really consider scrapping it if she can't get it working properly."

"Been saying as much for nearly a year," the farmer agreed with a conspiratorial nod. "Sorry, miss. Jedi are a touchy subject for us locals."

Meetra waved away the apology, grateful for Atton's quick thinking. "It's alright. Is it because of Malak?"

"Partly, him and Revan. But truthfully, it's all of them. If they're not lifting a finger to defend the Outer Rim from invaders, they're turning on each other with innocent folk caught in the middle." He shook his head. "Planet's a sight better without them, maybe even the whole Rim. Anyway, my apologies again. If you all are headed up to Khoonda, best speak with Captain Zherron, as well as the Administrator. Dantooine's not as safe as it used to be." With a last wave, he headed back to the merchant stall he'd stormed away from.

Meetra let out a shaky breath. "Thank you."

Atton nodded, then fixed the Enclave droid with a glare. "That's not going to work again, so let's try to keep the 'J-word' to minimum, huh?"

The droid bobbed his head. "Of course, sir; I do apologize. It's just that it's been so long since I last spoke to a member of the Order. My excitement got away from me."

Disappointment settled over Meetra's shoulders. "Then you haven't spoken to Vrook Lamar."

"No, not since before Malak's attack. I fear I have no knowledge of the whereabouts for any member of the Council."

Atton crossed his arms. "So, what can you tell us?"

The droid started to fidget again. "My apologies, but I'm afraid there is actually very little I am permitted to tell you."

"And why is that?"

He turned his optical sensors on Meetra. "My apologies, Master, but you are Meetra Surik. You are listed in my records as one of the… initiates who followed Master Dekari into the Mandalorian Wars. I have been programmed to withhold any information pertaining to the Order since your departure." He bowed his head. "I am sorry, Master; I wish it were not so."

She managed a weak smile. "Me, too, but it's not your fault." Meetra turned and waved for Atton and T3 to follow. "Thank you, all the same."

"Wait, Master Surik." The droid hobbled after them. "Since you mention Master Lamar, I have a file in my records involving you both. I don't know if it will help you, but as it originates before your departure, I can show it to you, if you wish."

Meetra hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, but lower your volume and keep the projection small."

"Of course, Master." The light behind the Enclave droid's optical sensors flickered and then glowed blue as he projected two figures: a marginally younger Vrook, still balding but less lined, and a small, wrinkled, bat-eared alien. The footage was staticy and the sound quality poor, the words cutting in and out.

Vrook's voice came in mid-sentence. "... nearly broke my padawan's arm! Kavar won't reign her in, no matter how many times I speak to him. You have to step in, Vandar."

"Your concern is noted, but she is not your responsibility." Meetra's heart lurched at the sound of Vandar's voice. The old Jedi had always projected a calmness that put everyone at ease. "She is headstrong, but —" A burst of static erased the rest of his words.

"... is uncontrollable. No student… immune." Vrook was uncharacteristically animated, shaking his head and throwing up his hands. "Half of them love her… them want her head! These emotions she engenders… lead them to the Dark Side! If you and Kavar won't… do it myself." The holorecord flickered and dissolved into static, the droid's sensors returning to their usual yellow.

Atton glanced at Meetra cautiously. "That was about you?" She didn't answer; she didn't have one to give.

The Enclave droid watched her closely, his anxiety clear in the way he rocked from side to side. "Forgive me, Master. I hope I have not offended."

"No, of course not." She forced a smile. "Thank you; it's a good reminder." He nodded hesitantly, then offered a quick half bow before shuffling away. Meetra watched him go, heart heavy, until T3 bumped against her leg with a soft trill. "I'm alright. Thank you, though." She sighed and looked to Atton, found him watching her. "You're right - we're wasting time. Let's go talk to Adare."

Atton fell into step beside her as they headed up the path, T3 rolling along on her other side. Out of the corner of her eye, Meetra caught Atton glance at her, then look away and back again before he spoke. "So… not a lot of love lost between you and this Vrook guy, huh?"

She let out a dry chuckle. "That's one way to put it. Vrook was one of Revan's biggest detractors; those of us who followed her were little better than Sith, as far as he was concerned." Her smile faded. "Part of me wonders if he was right."

"Well, I don't know much about Jedi, but I don't think he was right. About you, at least." She smiled again, a genuine one this time, and he glanced away before she saw the extent of his feelings. "The other Jedi that droid mentioned, though… who was that?"

"Vandar? He was headmaster at the Academy."

"No, the other one it talked about. Who's Master Dekari?"

Meetra tensed, her pleased smile flattening into a thin line. "Her name wasn't always Revan." She quickened her pace, and Atton let her pass him without further comment. The completeness with which she'd shut down was startling, and he worried anything more would drive her further away. T3 swiveled toward him with an uncertain murmur, then sped up to match Meetra's pace.

They continued on in silence — Meetra lost in memory and emotion, Atton unsure how to bring her out of it — until a large tan and white building came into view as they rounded a corner in the path. Though she hadn't recognized the name the dock attendant had used, Meetra found the building familiar. Roughly half the size of the dock, it was squarish in shape, the sides sloping up to meet a tiny landing pad serving as the roof. Much of the outer surface was covered with earth and seeded with Dantooine's thick plains grass, and a wide patio stretched out from the main entrance. Several armed guards, wearing uniforms similar to the dock attendant's, patrolled its borders. A thick cylindrical fixture sat against the main building on the side closest to the path, its rusty exterior contrasting with the white and tan.

Meetra came to a stop at the edge of the path, and Atton took the opportunity to catch up to her. Hesitantly, he attempted to bait her into conversation. "Been here before?"

She shook her head. "Close, but I've never actually been here. Always assumed it belonged to some farmer." T3 burbled softly, and she reached down to pat his head. "You're right, little guy. Let's keep moving." She continued out onto the patio, T3 at her heels, and Atton followed behind them.

One of the guards broke away to intercept them as they approached. "State your business at Khoonda."

"We need to get to Enclave ruins." Meetra tipped her head in the direction of the dock. "An attendant told us we need the Administrator's permission."

"All scavvers need permission to enter the ruins."

"We're not —"

He cut her off with a wave, clearly uninterested. "Go in, take a right, and head straight back. Adare should be in her office." He turned and walked off before she could respond, leaving her to stare after him in befuddled frustration.

"I get the feeling they're a 'helpful' bunch." Atton waved a hand at the guards. "You really think it's worth it to deal with the local color?"

"For now." He raised an eyebrow, and Meetra shook her head. "But if Adare gives us the same brush-off, we're going to the Enclave, permission or not."

Atton grinned. "Sounds good to me."

"Of course it does." Her tone was sardonic, but Meetra flashed a quick smile to show she was only teasing. She led the way into Khoonda, the door sliding open with a soft whoosh. A rush of cool air flowed out, welcoming after the heat. Inside, the foyer was wide, with wood-paneled walls and a clean tiled floor. Several humans, male and female, loitered about the space, all dressed in farmer's or peasant garb. Meetra threaded through them, T3 and Atton trailing closely in her wake, and worked her way over to the right-hand hallway, following it all the way to the office at the end. She paused at the sound of raised voices on the other side of the door, hesitating for a moment before pushing it open.

A man and a woman, both human, glanced up as the door opened, and both fell silent at the sight of Meetra, Atton, and T3. The woman was the first to react; straightening, she pasted a polite smile on her face and approached with an outstretched hand. "Forgive me, and do come in. Khoonda is always happy to welcome new visitors. I'm Administrator Adare." She shook Meetra's hand once, grip surprisingly firm.

Adare was, in a word, professional. Her posture was straight, but not rigid, suggesting she was comfortable with her position and the power and responsibility that came with it. She was perhaps two decades older than Meetra, dressed in dark formal garb with her hair swept back in a neat updo held in place with two thin intersecting rods. Her face was lined from joy and care equally, stern eyes set deep in their sockets. A design consisting of four small circles, the inner two slightly larger than the outer, was tattooed just above her brow line, giving her a slight ethereal air.

She retrieved a datapad and scrolled through lines of information. "You are the owners of the ship that just landed, yes? The…" She trailed off, her face going suddenly still. "The Ebon Hawk."

"That your idea of a karking joke?" growled the man. He straightened from his slouch against the wall, revealing an impressive height and build. He was younger than Adare, roughly Meetra's age; his hair was dark and cropped close, his eyes cold and flinty. Lightweight armor covered his chest and legs, and a blaster rifle was strapped to his right thigh. His hand hovered close to it, and Meetra sensed rather than saw Atton's hands fall to his blasters.

"Captain." Adare's voice was soft, but firm. When the man didn't react, it sharpened. "Zherron. Stand down." He begrudgingly relaxed, but his eyes remained fixed on Meetra. Trusting Adare to keep control over him, she glanced back at Atton, who lifted his hands to show he got the hint. When she turned back, she found Adare watching her with the same guarded expression. "Does that ship really belong to you?"

"No." Adare raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet. "When we acquired the ship, the only ones onboard were an old woman and this astromech. Whoever owned it is long gone." She glanced back and forth between them. "Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because it's a Jedi ship." Zherron's eyes flicked up and down her, and a small smirk tugged at his mouth. "You don't look much like Revan, though."

The air left Meetra's lungs in a rush. "What?"

"The Ebon Hawk was Revan's ship," Adare supplied. "After she returned to the Republic. Though she was no longer calling herself Darth Revan at that point."
Meetra found it suddenly hard to breathe, like Zherron and Adare's revelations were physical blows to her chest. The Ebon Hawk had been Revan's ship. Had Kreia known? A foolish question; of course she had. Anger bubbled up beneath the disbelief, allowing her to shake free of her stupor, but her reaction hadn't gone unnoticed.

"You knew her." Adare's voice was soft, but the silence had grown so thick it was almost as though she'd shouted. "You're a Jedi."

"No." Meetra's voice came out strangled, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "I mean, yes, I knew her, but no, I'm not a Jedi. I didn't know about the ship, though."

Adare nodded slowly. "Then why are you here, if not on Revan's behalf?"

"We need access to the Enclave's ruins."

"Why?"

"You asked everyone all these questions?" Atton snarked, ignoring Meetra's sharp glare.

"I do if they arrive in a Jedi vessel."

"I need to find someone," Meetra interjected before Atton could dig their hole deeper. "I believe he may have gone to the ruins."

Adare shared a quick glanced with Zherron. "You're here for Vrook Lamar."

"You know Vrook?"

"He's an old friend." Adare sighed, turning over the datapad in her hands. "We've… maintained contact over the years, even after Malak destroyed the Enclave. He arrived a little over a year ago, terrified, but he wouldn't tell me of what." Her face hardened. "An excuse that will not work a second time."

Meetra hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder at Atton. He offered her a half-shrug, which T3 backed up with a quiet warble. Letting out a sigh of her own, she turned back to Adare. "You've heard of Peragus?"

Zherron grunted. "Whole damn system's heard of Peragus."

"We were there." This caught even Zherron's attention. "The station and a Republic warship, the Harbinger, were attacked by the Sith."

"The hell does that work?" Zherron blurted, drifting over to stand next to Adare's desk. "Malak's dead."

"Not Malak, or even Revan; they're being led by someone new. A Sith Lord."

"Why destroy Peragus?" Adare bounced the datapad against the palm of her hand, her gaze distant. "An attempt to destabilize the system?"

"Not… exactly." Meetra fidgeted, fingers twining in on each other. "Peragus was an accident. The Sith were trying to kill us… to kill me."

"Why?"

"I… am not a Jedi, Administrator, but that has not always been true." Meetra glanced from her to Zherron and back again. "They're under the impression I still am, that I'm somehow the last person standing between them and galactic dominion." Her shoulders slumped, and a small mirthless laugh escaped her. "I guess, in a way, I am. I'm going to do what I can to stop them, but I need the Council's help. Starting with Vrook."

A heavy silence filled the room. Adare stared down at the datapad without seeing it, and Zherron shifted to sit on the edge of her desk. Meetra knew blindsided when she saw it, and she patiently waited for it to run its course. Zherron recovered first. "Well, Terena, I guess you got what you wanted."

Meetra tipped her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Adare leveled a stern glare at her captain. "A few days ago, Vrook descended into the ruins; he said he was looking for something important, but wouldn't tell me what… I haven't heard from him since. I've requested some of the militia be sent to investigate, but so far, I've been refused."

"Because we've barely got enough men to keep this place covered as it is." Zherron sounded tired; clearly, this was a conversation that had happened more than he cared to have it. "The old Jedi knows that place better than any of us; my men could spend days down there and never see him. Meanwhile, we'd be stretched even thinner here, and if you think the raiders won't take advantage of that, you're a fool. I've offered to send Dopak in —"

She scoffed. "And have your pet mercenary turn around and ransom him to us? No, thank you."

"Then it's lucky we have another option." He turned back to Meetra. "You said you were Jedi. That mean you've been to the Enclave? Before Malak reduced it to so much charred stone, I mean."

"Yes." She left out the full truth; it would only bring more questions than she wanted to answer.

"Then it sounds like we can help each other." Zherron leaned back and raised an eyebrow at Adare. "That work for you, Administrator?"

Adare sighed and shooed him from her desk as she set down the datapad. "I know this is a lot to ask… I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name."

"Meetra Surik. This is Atton Rand, and the astromech is T3-M4."

"Meetra." She tensed, waiting for a spark of recognition, but Adare only nodded. "I'll give you access to the ruins. I'm trusting that what you've told me is true, and I only ask that you send word when you find Vrook."

Meetra nodded. "You have my word, Administrator."

"Very well. I will transmit the permissions to the Enclave security doors." Adare picked up the datapad again. "Go expecting danger. Without the Jedi to keep the peace, Dantooine has become a dangerous place. We've received increasing reports of raiders attacking the remaining farming settlements and the smaller salvager camps, and if you've been to Dantooine before, you'll know about the kath hounds and kinrath. The ruins have their own dangers, as well. A large infestation of laigreks has taken over the lower floors, no doubt unleashed in Malak's bombardment."

Atton frowned. "I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what the hell is a laigrek?"

"Big karking bugs." Zherron chuckled at the face Atton made. "'Bout the size of a kath hound on all six legs, but roughly half your height when they raise up to attack. Strictly carnivorous, and they're not picky about their food source. Some of them even breathe fire."

"Yep, already feeling the regret."

"Look, you're doing us a favor, and I'm not gonna overlook that." He gestured toward the office door. "Supply room's across the hall. Take what you need — within reason. I've gotten reports of those things killing salvagers; I can confirm a few have lost limbs to them. You don't want to walk in there unprepared." Zherron shot a deferential glance at Adare. "As long as that's alright with you, Administrator."

"Of course." She sat the datapad down and extended her hand to Meetra again. "As my captain says, you are doing us a great service, even if it benefits you as well. Whatever you need, we will provide it, if it is in our means." Adare shook her hand again and even offered a genuine smile. "Thank you, Meetra."

"Thank you." Meetra initiated a half bow before turning and leaving the office with Atton and T3 close behind. They crossed the hall into the supply room, and Meetra removed a small rucksack from a rack near the door, briefly regretting leaving Chodo's roomier pack aboard the ship. Atton pulled another down for himself and dropped a handful of medpacs in it. Meetra watched him for a moment before he noticed her and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. "If you'd rather go back to the ship, you can."

Atton snorted and scooped extra energy cells into the bag. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You know that's not what I meant. I just don't want to see you get hurt because I asked you to come with me."

"Look, admittedly, I'm not thrilled about the idea of wading through giant bugs to find one old Jedi, especially one that's probably not thrilled to see you. No offense." He picked through some foodstuffs to avoid looking at her. "But I can't just leave you with a rolling scrapheap for backup." T3 whistled sharply at the insult, but Atton ignored him. "If you want me to leave, just say so. Otherwise, you're stuck with me."

She touched his arm, and he froze, suddenly glad he was facing away from her. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get a move-on, huh? The sooner we get this over with, the happier I'll be."

Meetra put her own collection of medpacs in her rucksack, along with a few repair kits for T3's benefit. A handful of dried foods and fresh fruit followed, along with a length of rope and a medium-sized lantern, which she hooked to the belt of her tunic. She swung the rucksack over her shoulders, retrieved her pike, and turned to find Atton, rucksack on his back, waiting for her. She led the way back out of Khoonda, and they headed off in the opposite direction from which they'd initially come. Only a few steps from the edge of the patio, the carefully tended grass sprang up to waist height, the light breeze creating a golden sea as it blew through the plains. Meetra breathed deep and allowed her free hand to trail through the soft rushes as they walked. A long-forgotten memory surfaced: as a child, more than three decades previous, she raced through the grasses, the tops of the blades almost level with her head. A voice, another girl's, called her name, and she dove into the grass, rolling into a ball to further conceal herself. A boy's shout joined the girl's, and Meetra pressed her hands against her mouth to keep in the giggles that threatened to betray her location. The other children's voices went silent, and she held her breath, listening closely. Suddenly, the girl's face burst through the grass directly in front of her, violet eyes shining against her olive skin, wild black hair escaping from a haphazard tail as she threw her head back and crowed her victory.

"Meetra?"

She started at Atton's voice. "Sorry, what?"

"You okay?"

"... yes, just… Memory is a powerful thing."

He frowned, but didn't press, and gestured to the horizon and the sun sinking below it. "We hiking in the dark?"

"Ah, no, not unless you want to stumble into a pack of kath hounds." Meetra glanced around, then pointed to the rise of a hill in the near distance. "We can make camp there. High ground, lots of visibility; it's as safe a place as any."

"I mean, probably not as safe as Khoonda."

"Well, no, but… after that reception, I'd rather not linger any more than necessary." A ripple of anxiety worked its way down her back. The old farmer's venom and Zherron's aggression at the mere inclination she was a Jedi was genuinely unnerving, but not difficult to understand. One of Dantooine's strongest protectors had turned on them and destroyed a good portion of the planet's surface. Their distrust wasn't unwarranted.

By the time they reached the hill, the sun was only just above the horizon, the soft purples and oranges of evening giving way to indigo twilight, broken only by the manta-esque brith as they sailed through the sky. Meetra flattened a wide circle of grass, T3 rolling along behind her to keep it pressed down, and sat the lantern down in the center. She opened the cover halfway, letting only a soft glow illuminate the circle, and sat down on one side to remove her pack. The crushed grass gave off the thick pungent smell of lavender, and she took a deep soothing breath.

Atton sat down next to her and tossed his rucksack on top of hers. "Wouldn't a fire be more appropriate for camping?"

"Sure, if you want the interest of every kath hound and raider in the vicinity," she teased. "Besides, it's too warm for a fire." With the sun finally down, the temperature was balmy instead of stifling, drawing more childhood memories to the surface. "We'll be fine with this. So, how do you want to split up the watches?" T3 interrupted with a series of chirped notes. "Are you sure? I don't want you to drain your battery." He whistled once, reversed, and rolled to the opposite side of the circle.

Atton watched him go. "What's up?"

"He says he can keep watch. I guess it's not like he needs to sleep."

"Rust bucket might as well make itself useful." T3 issued a rude buzz, pulling a chuckle from Atton. They lapsed into silence again as the sky darkened to inky star-shot black. Atton watched Meetra from the corner of his eye. There was a serenity to her here that he hadn't seen before, a peacefulness born from familiarity. She braided a blade of golden plains grass between her fingers, twisting it around on itself until it formed a small ring. He plucked his own blade and mirrored her movements. "So… what was it like, growing up here?

It took her a moment to answer, as though she had to come out of a trance first. "In some ways, it was no different from anywhere else. A lot of ups and downs, some small heartbreaks here and there," She glanced sideways at him and offered a sheepish smile. "Not what you were asking about, right?"

He shrugged. "Not exactly, but if you don't wanna talk about it…"

"What do you want to know?"

He paused, gauging her sincerity. "Kind of stupid, but that holo the dock droid showed us got me wondering: what's a Jedi childhood like?"

Meetra leaned back, palms flat on the grass to brace her weight. "Short; Jedi don't remain children for long. By the time we were old enough to be selected as padawans, we were trained to fight, with both a lightsaber and the Force. We were defenders; some would call us soldiers… and maybe that was more accurate. I never questioned it until Revan came back." She blinked, surfacing from the brief reverie. "But it wasn't all training. There was a strong sense of family, that all of us belonged here and with each other. Even if we were at each other's throats sometimes."

"That how Vrook felt about you?"

"He wasn't the only one; I know other Knights had their concerns, and not just about me." She curled in on herself, pulling her knees into her chest and resting her chin on them. "The other initiates were always divided when it came to me. Either they wanted to be friends, or they couldn't stand the sight of me. I never found out why, and at the time, I didn't much care. I… I thought I had the only friends who mattered."

Atton watched her, weighing his next words carefully. "Revan and Malak, right?"

"And Atris." The ghost of a smile crossed her face, vanishing before he could be certain he'd seen it. "They wouldn't go by Malak and Revan until much later. Back then, they were just Alek and Skye Dekari; my friends, and the closest thing I had to family."

Another memory surfaced: a night much like this one, warm and clear, the stars stretching out as far as she could see. Skye, her wild mane of dark hair freed from its usual tail, lay in the grass on her right; Alek, newly shaved and tattooed head reflecting the starlight, sat to her left. He tinkered with his lightsaber, adjusting the crystal in its seating. Skye lifted a hand to the sky, indicating a far off point of light with her finger. "That one. I bet it's like Coruscant, but prettier, and the whole world shines like a diamond."

"I bet it's a whole planet of bantha dung." Skye threw a clump of plains grass at Alek, eliciting a high-pitched shriek as he yanked his open lightsaber out of its path. "Be careful! I spent weeks on this."

"I was aiming for your head."

"Good thing Jedi don't use blasters, then; your aim is terrible."

Skye scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. Alek uprooted his own handful of grass and flung it at her, but Meetra caught it with the Force as it passed over her. She held it aloft, allowing the blades to trickle away with the breeze. The three of them watched the grass float away, a rare moment of silence before the good-natured teasing resumed.

Meetra smiled at the memory, but it was bittersweet. The next day, Skye and Alek had left for Coruscant to train with Zhar Lestin, and over the next five years, she'd seen them only sparingly until they finally returned to take her with them. At the time, she felt like she'd never see them again.

"Sounds like you were close." She nodded, and Atton saw a flicker of pain cross her face. He shifted subjects before she shut down again. "What were they like?"

"Like hot and cold," Meetra admitted, a laugh in her voice. "I don't think I've ever seen two people more opposite. Skye was wild and brave, and every initiate loved her. She was top of her class, and strong in both physical combat and the Force. Skye was a river, and Alek was the lake she fed into. He was calm, always thought things through before he acted. He preferred to analyze a situation thoroughly before getting involved. Drove Skye crazy."

"And you?"

"I was… somewhere in the middle. They used me as a mediator, a balance between them." She picked up another blade of grass and slowly shredded it between her fingers. "Like Skye, I was impulsive, but I saw all my options, too. It's why they wanted me to come with them — I was willing to take risks, but I knew how to mitigate them, too." Meetra fell silent as the last bits of grass drifted to the ground. "When we were children, I mostly just kept the peace." The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. "When they started to argue, I'd always get them to play a game; it was silly, but it distracted them every time."

"What was it?"

"You really want to know?"

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Sure."

"We'd come out to the plains on nights like this and point out the first planet we'd visit when we became Knights." She tilted her face up to the sky. "They could never remember which ones they picked the previous time, so they'd forget all about the fight while they tried to find them again." She chuckled. "I don't think they ever figured out I was doing it on purpose."

Atton looked up, squinting at the stars. "Which one did you pick?"

Meetra pointed. "That one."

"There?" He pointed to another light several to the right of hers.

"No, here." She scooted closer, leaning over until she was brushing his shoulder with hers and he could feel her warmth against his side. "That one, just there."

"Did you ever go there?"

"No." Her voice was melancholic, longing clinging to every syllable. "I like to think it's an ocean planet with warm beaches, and the locals travel everywhere by boat. Maybe I'll find out one day."

"You're gonna need a pilot." Atton reached over and set the crudely braided ring of grass on her knee. "Cash it in wisely; you only get one."

Meetra laughed and tucked the token carefully into her rucksack. "I'll be sure to save it, then." She shifted away from him, and Atton was careful to mask his disappointment. "We should get some sleep, though. Zherron was right; Vrook could be anywhere in those lower levels; the earlier we head out, the more time we have to look for him." She stretched out in the grass and pulled the pack over for a makeshift pillow. "Good night… and thanks again, for coming with me."

"Of course." He watched her for a long moment before pulling off his jacket, folding it up, and sliding it beneath his head as he lay down. "Good night, Meetra."

A/N: Apologies for the late chapter! This last week was finals, which is a very busy time for my job. There likely won't be a chapter this Tuesday, either since it's Christmas Eve, and I'll be out of town and away from my PC for the first part of the week (I'll try to have a chapter up before the end of the week, though). For future chapters, my hours are changing at my job, so the day chapters are uploaded will probably get moved to Sunday; I'll know in the next couple of weeks and will update the summary accordingly. Finally, thank you for sticking with this, and for being patient with me. I promise I'm learning as I go!