The hunter's camp stilled and the corpses from the fight swarmed with flies. Bastila paced near the destroyed bantha pens. All we could do now was wait for Carth's update. Wait, and hope, that the pilot succeeded at losing the Sith.

Juhani sat near the rocks with a kolto bandage wrapped around her neck. Mission sat beside her chatting low about what we'd been up to. Canderous held his blaster rifle close while gazing up at the darkening sky. Occasionally he might have...spat at Calo's corpse. Not that I was judging.

Verena sat on the cliff with her feet hanging over the side. She watched the stalwart figure of HK-47 who was still on standby near one of the destroyed tents. I collapsed next to the Echani.

"Still wanna destroy it?"

She shook her head before answering. "I'm starting to think…you were right." She sighed. "The droid...it's just a weapon. A reflection of the one who wields it. HK-47 saved our lives just as it took away so many others." She looked down at her boots before facing me. "I have a favor to ask."

"Shoot."

"Destroying HK won't give me closure. I see that now. But...I need to know why Revan used the droid to kill the senator. Why...he betrayed Yusanis."

"Wait…" I flinched. "The droid...was Revan's ?"

"Yes?" The Echani smirked. "I thought you knew this?"

"Hell no! I'd probably have second thoughts about taking it if I knew that." I rubbed my forehead. "Though it explains a lot. Force...now I know why you were so damn persistent."

"The only way I'll get my answers is if HK's memory is restored." She crossed her arms. "And the only way we can do that is if we board one of the Sith's ships and plug it into their systems."

"And how do you know that?"

She shrugged. "Experience."

Experience? She had experience?

"There is no way we're boarding a Sith ship just to get HK's memories back."

"Of course not." The Echani gazed up into the sky. "But this quest you Jedi are on sounds dangerous. Dangerous enough that I'm sure you'll run into the Sith again." Her silver eyes met mine. "I've traveled the galaxy without a purpose for years. I think it's time I found one."

Oh, joy. Someone else wanted to tag along on our doomed quest. Not only that, but I doubted she was a normal veteran like Carth. Experience. What type of experience included detailed knowledge about Sith droids? But unlike a certain pilot, I wasn't going to voice said suspicions about her past without proof.

"Well, we might not have to plug HK in." I smiled. "I know a thing or two about droids. Maybe I can find a switch or...something in its memory core."

I thought this would have cheered Verena up but instead, she narrowed her eyes. "That is not a good idea."

"Um...why not?"

"Revan would have expected any old person who came across it to try and restore its memory. I doubt you could restore anything and, even if you got close, it'll probably catch fire."

I shrugged. "No harm in trying."

Verena's scar creased as she frowned. "I'm not sure whether or not to be worried that you're so relaxed about this or mildly terrified." She pushed herself to her feet and stared down at me. "If you're going to be messing with that ticking time bomb, can you fix its weird...programming while you're at it?"

"Weird programming?"

Verena waved at HK. "You—you know what I mean! The whole 'meatbag' thing."

"Hmm…" I rubbed my stubbled chin. "I don't know...it's pretty funny. Not a lot of humor like that going around."

"Funny? If you find him threatening death on us all hilarious, I must have misjudged you."

I pushed up to stand as well then cocked a brow. "See? This is what I mean. Not a lot of humor going around."

Before the Echani could snap back, Bastila marched towards us with the comm out in her hand. Carth must have an update for us. Finally.

We all crowded around Bastila as Carth spoke over the comm. "Good news—for once." He sighed. "I managed to lead the Sith on a chase through the canyons. Figured that they couldn't maneuver around tight corners like the Hawk. Let's just say...they're scrap."

I snickered to myself. "Orangy, you mad genius."

Click. "Did Wes just call me a genius?"

Heat flooded my cheeks. Kriff, thought he couldn't hear me.

"No! Uh…"

Thankfully, Bastila saved me. She closed her eyes in exasperation. "I'll send you the coordinates, Carth."

"Roger."

Ten minutes later, the Ebon Hawk landed onto the flat part of the eastern desert both far away enough from the crags and the debris. Carth stood at the top of the ramp and a happy T3 rolled up alongside him. Zaalbar hugged Mission tight, growling something or other about being worried.

And we were about to board the Hawk and take off. Put this cursed planet far away from our sights.

"Bastila?"

The Jedi turned to face me with a frown. "What? I need to wash this dung off my face."

Right...that. Honestly, needed a shower myself. But that wasn't what I stopped her for. Thankfully, she didn't continue up the ramp after the rest of the crew. As if she knew what I was about to ask.

"What about the holocron?"

Bastila shook her head yet I could feel within her bond a yearning.

"We have more important things to do."

"If we leave, you may never get another chance. Wouldn't you at least want to try to reconcile with your mother? Hear the last words of your father? Do you care?"

A familiar huff and a flare of anger.

"Father recorded all his personal thoughts in that holocron even when I knew him. Having it would be like having him with you. But...I don't see why she deserves it. She drove him to his death. I loved him...and I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye."

I crossed my arms. "The only way you'll ever get close to saying goodbye is if you see him one last time. If not for your mother, then why not for yourself?"

There was then more silence and a familiar feeling within our bond.

Guilt.

"Because...I don't want it only for that. If I kept it, then she wouldn't have it. She would never get to see his face again. And she deserves...that." She looked down to hide her face. But I could still feel the guilt in the bond. "Terrible thoughts. Thoughts that my Jedi training should have put me past. I wish...I really don't want to think about this."

I tried to keep the anger in control yet it was getting difficult.

"How nice it is to have an excuse not to mourn the people you care about."

Her mechanical gray eyes met my own. "You forget, Wes, that as Jedi we aren't supposed to care about anyone."

I flinched at her cold tone.

"If...if we can't care about anyone, then that makes us no better than Sith."

"That—" She glanced away. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" I waited for Bastila to answer, yet when she didn't I shook my head. "You know what? I wish I had a handy dandy holocron lying around in a krayt dragon cave that had my mother's image, voice, and thoughts. Would have put my mind at ease. At peace. Oh well. Let's get on the Ebon Hawk and fly off into the binary sunset because your dead father's last words won't bring you peace. Oh no. There is no emotion, there is peace."

I didn't even see Bastila's face. Nor feel her emotion. Heat rose into my ears as I stormed into the Ebon Hawk, leaving Bastila behind. I didn't care. I didn't care anymore about her sanctimonious bullshit. Honestly, it would be easier to not care. Ignore this petty drama and focus on the mission. Just follow the path the Jedi and the Force intended like a good little Padawan.

Maybe that's why the Jedi insisted on complete detachment.

Because it did make it all easier.

Scorching hot water hit my body and the filth from the treads, the Sand People, and the krayt dragon all washed down the drain. It didn't wash away this feeling of numbness, of course. Carth had sent the Hawk space-bound. We had some time to recuperate from our fight before we made any plans. The rest of the crew didn't like the fact that Verena was now a part of the team, but honestly, she knew too much to be kicked out now.

I dried myself off and put on fresh robes. The numbness persisted. No emotion. Just like a good Padawan. I grabbed a bottle from the canteen and parked myself near the holoprojector. "Celebrating" our first victory. I guess. Memories of the many celebrations I had with my crew flashed in my mind. How nostalgic.

A few drinks in, Bastila walked past me—muttering something. I didn't respond.

No, I wasn't acting like a hormonal teenager who was giving his parents the silent treatment. In fact, Bastila deserved my silence. After all, she insisted I should stop caring.

So, there.

Stopped caring.

I poured another glass of Tarisian ale and traced the edge of a metal seam. I was getting used to the taste of this terrible stuff—not like there was much else to drink around here. That will have to change.

An orange form stood over me. Carth grabbed the bottle from the floor and shook it once.

"How much have you had?"

"Two...no three..." I lowered my drink after I saw Carth's judging face. "What? I'm celebrating. I'll pour you a glass."

"No, I'm just taking a break. I have to mind the cockpit."

I shrugged. "More for me."

Carth lifted the glass from my grip before I could take another drink.

"Wha—!"

How did I not sense that?

"This doesn't look like celebrating." Carth sat next to me then waved my glass. "This looks like moping."

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at the pilot. "I don't mope."

"Uh-huh, sure."

"Actually, you're right. That's a lie. I'm moping now because you kriffing stole my drink."

Carth sighed. "Your mood is like night and day at times, I swear..." He muttered this to himself. Probably thinking I didn't catch his snark with, what, two drinks? Or three? Four? Damn Tarisian ale. It did not sit well with me.

I reached for the glass again, yet somehow Carth moved it away in time.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, so now that I'm...not supposed to care...Orangy walks in here asking 'what's wrong.'" I giggled. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is supposed to ever be wrong. There is no emotion, there is peace."

Carth pursed his lips and stared at me as if trying to figure out some puzzle. He placed the drink down onto the holoprojector and weaved his fingers together.

"What happened between you and Bastila?"

I waggled my brow. "Thinking dirty thoughts about us, Onasi? Tisk, tisk."

"No...not that, you drunk."

"Nothing happened between me and Bastila. Satisfied?"

Finally, I wrestled the glass before Carth could snatch it and downed it in one tip. Smacking my lips, I rubbed my face as a burning sensation began to fill my cheeks.

"Whew, this...stuff really hits fast, huh?"

"Whatever spat you got into, you should resolve it. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Oh, so she's the scorned one?"

Carth now raised his own eyebrows up at me with a slight grin on his face. "If she is anything like my wife...then yes."

"Wait, you're married too? Orangy?" I chuckled. "The guy with a stick up his ass?"

A darkness crowded his eyes. The smile died on his lips. "I...don't want to talk about it." He stood then waved a lazy hand. "Just...go and talk to her. For your own sake, really." Carth took the bottle. "Sober."

"Awhlright, alrighty, Mom." I waved him away. "You know, you're a good guy, Orangy. When you aren't lecturing me like I'm a child."

Carth left with a tired sigh.

Around thirty minutes later (or maybe an hour?) and mildly less drunk, I stumbled towards the ladies' dorm room intent on catching Bastila before she could run away. To "talk to her" or whatever. I wouldn't be surprised if she was still in the shower after all that dung she had to slather onto herself.

And no. I wasn't going to peek. I am a gentleman.

I leaned on the edge of one of the many generators in the hall in order to provide a little bit of balance. Blinking a few times, I giggled.

Probably still drunk.

Waiting and waiting for the Jedi to stop her hour-long shower. Really now, she hadn't had that much bantha dung on her...right? After ten more minutes of waiting, I growled in frustration. If I announced myself, then it wouldn't be too bad to come in and see what the problem was.

I lifted a finger to press the button to comm into the room. Before I did, a low, muffled voice vibrated the door. Curious, I moved my head so that I could press my ear against the metal. Using the Force, I amplified the sound so that I could hear the voice in the other room.

An older man spoke. His voice had that familiar Talravin accent.

"...has taken five days to track down the lair of the krayt dragon. The local Sand People don't even dare to come near this area. Helena would tell me to come back if she were here now...but if I listened to her, well, there would have been no point to this excursion, would there? "

Silence. I held my breath. Fortunately, Bastila was too distracted by the hologram to notice my presence.

"Today is Bastila's birthday. I think it's been...fifteen years since they took our little girl. She's twenty-two now. I used to yell at Helena every day for taking our child to the Jedi Enclave. But...after a few years, a few birthdays, I've come to realize that she's right. Where Bastila is now—she is doing greater things than sifting through the desert for a stupid pearl with her failure of a father…" Another, pause. "I worry about this war with the Sith. I hope my daughter is still alive and well. All of our attempts to contact the Jedi have been in vain. Happy birthday, sweetheart. Wherever you are now, whatever you are doing in this great galaxy, I will love you. Always."

Sniffling. Then sadness leaked through the bond like a poison. It was a foreign sensation. A terrible, awful sensation. If the numbness, the nothingness, had been bad. This. This was worse.

I pushed the switch and the door opened with a hiss. Sitting in the middle of the room, Bastila leaned in front of a cube. The blue highlights of an older man faded—the last recorded message of a man killed by the krayt dragon. Gray eyes. Memories from the krayt dragon. An ignoble death for a great man.

Bastila didn't look up as I approached. She buried her face in her hands as if to stop the tears from showing. But it was too late. She couldn't hide her pain from me. And it hurt. Kriff it hurt. I knelt before her—saying nothing. What could I say? Stupid, arrogant, Wesley Gale?

Nothing. Nothing that mattered.

So, with a gentle hand, I pulled her into an embrace. For some reason, she didn't flinch away. Instead, the pain within our bond eased into a dulled, yearning sorrow. She continued to shake as I held her. After that, I couldn't let her go. Never. If I did, the pain would return, I knew it.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

She tried to insist this over our bond. Again. The numbness began to return.

I gripped her tighter.

No. Emotion, yet peace.

We sat there for...I don't know how long. Eventually, Bastila stilled. A calm that I hadn't felt within her since before she learned of her father's passing suffused the bond. Then, something shoved my chest. I fell to my ass, off balance, due to the suddenness of the attack.

"What is that horrible smell?" She grimaced. "Is that alcohol?"

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Uh...maybe?"

The Jedi rolled her eyes, though a small smile played upon her lips. "Next time you barge in here, show up half-decent at least." Bastila stood, more confident. More...relaxed. "I…" She looked down at the warm holocron. "There's something that I have to do."

Carth stuttered when Bastila asked him to land in the Anchorhead port once more.

"You do realize more Sith might show up, right?"

"I need to speak to my mother, Onasi. It's important."

"More important than the mission?" he asked.

I smirked in Carth's direction then raised an eyebrow when he glared back at me. What? He said to speak to Bastila and resolve our issues. That is exactly what I did.

The pilot reluctantly agreed.

"Back already? Have you even looked for the holocron, yet?"

We arrived at the cantina that evening—keeping our hoods over our faces in case any Sith still roamed the streets. Helena was one of the only patrons in the Light Side Cantina and had made that scathing remark as soon as we entered.

Bastila didn't say anything in response at first. Instead, she threw the cube onto the bar.

"You may think I don't remember what it was like before I left for the Order, but I do. You were the one who pushed Father to go on one treasure hunt after the other. You loved living in wealth. You think I don't remember the fights?" Bastila took in a deep breath before she continued. "You were eager to send me to the Jedi even though I didn't want to go. You took Father away from me, and now this holocron is all I have left of him."

Helena leaned into the bar—she didn't even touch the holocron as she moved to drink again. Her face aged and the illness showed on her pale face.

"Your father loved you so. He wanted you to be just like him...he wanted to take you on his hunts, but I said they were too dangerous. I was hard on you, dear. I wasn't a very good mother to you, I know that now. But it was a reckless life we led, always moving. I didn't want that for you."

"And that's why you gave me to the Order?"

"What do your father and I have to show for all those years of hunting?" She shook her head. "Nothing. That was no life for anyone, especially not someone as gifted as you. Your father...he spent all his last years trying to pay for my treatments. That's why he went for the krayt dragon. The pearl. I begged him not to, but…"

"Treatments."

Again, pain flowed through the bond. It felt similar to when Bastila watched her father's final message. I grabbed her shoulder. She didn't flinch or move when I did.

"I'm dying, Bastila. I did not lie about that. It's been a long time coming, and there's really nothing that can be done anymore. I told your father to let me go, but you know how he was. Stubborn. Like you."

It took Bastila a moment before she could speak again. "I'm so sorry, Mother. I don't know what to say…"

Helena eyed both of us. When she caught my gaze, she nodded once to herself then picked up the holocron from the bar. Taking her daughter's hand, she forced the metal object into her palm.

"Keep the holocron, Bastila. It would do me good to know you have it. This...talking to you...this is what I really needed before I…"

"I know, Mother." Bastila gripped the holocron tight. "Thank you."

I smiled down at the Jedi and she smiled back up at me.

"You there," Helena said.

Jumping, I pulled my hand away from Bastila's shoulder.

There was a gleam of light in the older woman's eye as she smirked. "You take care of my daughter, you hear?"

I turned a confused look at the Jedi then back at her mother. Bastila pursed her lips. Her mother gave me a familiar mysterious look. A look I was sure I'd seen on Bastila's face before. I threw my arms into the air.

"Like she'd let me!"

"You make her let you. She's too much like her father in that respect..."

Helena coughed.

This made Bastila grow concerned once again. "Where are you going to go?"

"It doesn't matter, dear. Don't you worry about me."

"I would give you something to help but...we bought a psychopathic droid that someone bet 8,000 credits on."

Helena blinked. "Psychopathic droid?"

"Hey," I crossed my arms. "That droid saved our asses."

Before Bastila could bite back, I remembered something that was valuable sitting in my pocket..

Now, usually, I wouldn't have been keen on letting go of valuable items. I was a smuggler before all of this Jedi stuff happened and letting go of anything expensive would have been a crime with a high punishment. Possibly consisting of stripping down to the underloins and shouting "I'm a moof-milker, moof, moof!" around the ship.

However, I have been going crazy recently what with the Force visions, the heat, alcohol poisoning...

I pulled the krayt dragon pearl from my pocket and didn't look as I handed it to the Jedi. A bright laugh. It took me a moment to realize it had come from Bastila.

Why is her laugh so beautiful?

Okay, yeah, crazy thoughts. You can shut up now.

Bastila handed the pearl to her mother. "Go to Coruscant and find a doctor. I'll meet you there after...after my mission."

Her mother looked hesitant. "But I already told you there's nothing that can—"

"Please, take it. I...want to see you again. When we can talk."

Helena sighed. She stood up from the bar and asked the barman to close her tab. After paying, she faced us again.

"Alright, I will." She put the pearl in her pocket. "Now you do what you have to, Bastila. You go make your father and I proud."

The return to the Ebon Hawk was quiet. Yet, it hadn't been one of those strained silences that were normal between Bastila and I. More like a silent peace after a torrential downpour. The Tatooine nightbugs hummed, lizards slithered to eat those bugs, and merriment from the many cantinas echoed into the night.

Even if it was peaceful, I really hated it. Too quiet.

"So, what made you change your mind?"

"Hmm?" Bastila turned and met my gaze before her eyes returned to the sandy road. "About getting the holocron? You. Of course."

"Ah, yes. I am rather convincing."

"And here I'd thought we'd finally have a conversation without your enormous ego getting in the way."

"But you have to admit you feel better now after seeing your father."

We walked a few more paces in silence before Bastila sighed. "Yes. That brought me a lot of peace. More than I thought it would have." She stuck a hand in her robe pocket—most likely to make sure the holocron was still there. "Thank you for urging me towards it, Wes. After all my training, I would have thought it would have been easier. Apparently, I still have much to learn."

"You and me both, eh?"

Again there was silence. This time, it felt strained and the guilt that always seemed to pervade the bond grew tenfold. I swallowed as the Jedi stopped with her face bowed.

"What happened back there...when I saw my father's holocron. That can never happen again."

"Huh?"

She lifted her head and met my eyes. "You...reacted to my emotions. I understand that you didn't know how to block the bond. You only did what you thought you could to help stop the pain. But what you...did...can never happen again."

Great. And I thought we'd finally reconciled.

I crossed my arms. "Well, it was kind of hard not to react to it when it felt like I was being stabbed."

"Ignore it then."

Anger that I was sure she felt through our bond heated my chest again. "Ignore it? What was I supposed to do? Let you cry on the floor by yourself?"

"Yes."

I huffed. "You're acting like this is a one-way street, sunshine. You've reacted countless times to my emotions. If you don't want me to care about you then why don't you stop caring about me?"

"Fine, I will!"

"Fine!" I shouted back.

"Fine!"

She stomped away, the sound of the bugs and lizards following her.

Oh, how I already missed the quiet. Guess it was never meant to be.