Trees taller than any building in Coruscant. Shrieking shadows hid underneath the claustrophobic roots. A voice echoed through the branches.

Revan...

A red mask searched the ancient jungle below. Heeding the call.

Beneath a gigantic root, Czerka employees rounded up a group of chained Wookiees. Their incomprehensible growls were silenced by the shock collars around their necks. The mask watched on—anger swirled in the air after one of the employees struck a youngling with a shock baton.

Revan jumped from his perch on the root then marched towards the group. The Czerka employees stopped terrorizing the young Wookiee and pointed their blasters at the Dark Lord.

"Who are you?" The leader looked Revan up and down. "How are you down here? This planet is under Czerka—"

He was interrupted by the hiss of a lightsaber. The leader's head thudded to the ground. Revan had taken it with a single stroke. The other employees shouted in terror and tried to shoot. However, Revan's purple blade deflected the beams into the trees. The scum were cut to pieces. Many died before the screams could leave their lips.

The Wookiees shrieked in their confusing language. Revan didn't understand them...but he sensed their terror. He terrified them. As he approached, the eldest bared their yellowed teeth. But Revan needed answers. He needed to find it.

He lifted a dark hand and passed his fingers over the old eyes of the elder.

They will know.

The Wookiees' shackles fell to the damp jungle floor.

"..."

It was darker now. Revan marched through the undergrowth—his mask moved as if he searched for something. The call had become palpable. As if someone spoke to him over his shoulder.

Revan.

There—in the mist beneath the roots. Alien machinery with vines overgrown within the metal. Revan inched closer with his lightsaber drawn. Light poured from the alien device before him.

The Star Map.

Another growl echoed from the mist. A purple lightsaber ignited.

It was there. There in the darkness. In the mists.

A horned beast consumed the shadows. Revan dove from its charge, and instead of meeting the beast head-on, he ran. Deeper into the darkness of the jungle. Booming footsteps followed. A terrible sensation screamed in the Force.

Revan twisted and used the Force on the vines in order to trap the beast. It was supposed to slow it down, but the beast was only momentarily predisposed. It cut apart the vines with its horns like a knife cut skin.

Run!

And Revan ran. And ran. Somehow, it still pursued him. He couldn't lose it.

Eventually, he arrived at the edge of a cliff. Revan cursed underneath his breath as he kicked a pebble. It fell hundreds, if not thousands, of feet to the surface of the planet. Moving away from the cliff's edge, he raised his blade and focused the Force onto the mysterious beast. Pain. Anguish. Darkness. All of this he sent towards the beast—desperate to send it away.

Go away.

This only fed the creature.

Its roar reflected the power back at him. Caught off-guard, Revan lowered his blade. That's when it charged. The Dark Lord tried to dive, but the beast somehow predicted his next move. Its horned head collided with his torso and he was thrown meters until he collided with a root.

Kriff!

Revan coughed and held his chest. A horn had pierced his armor. Pierced his lung. Blood ran down his lips.

This is the end.

Or it would have been.

A green light chased away the darkness. The lightsaber threatened the beast. Instead of it growing more powerful with the use of the Force, the mysterious beast shied away.

Before he could see the face of his rescuer, the Dark called to him once more.

Revan.

Breath returned to my body as if I'd been revived. Sweat poured down my face into my eyes as I grasped my chest. I threw the blanket away from my body in a panic.

No blood. No wound. Nothing.

Right. Just a vision.

My body slackened along with my breathing. How foolish. I shouldn't have felt afraid of these visions anymore. But it felt real. So terrifyingly real. If these visions were a result of the light side trying to bring balance to the Force, then why did they come with these feelings of terror and fear? Of darkness? It didn't matter how many times I asked myself these questions. The answer never made sense.

"Are you alright?"

Carth stared at me from the bunk on the opposite side of the dorm. He looked as if he had been awake already for a few minutes.

I hummed a positive response before reaching over to grab my blanket. The sheet barely calmed my shivers as I laid back down and faced the steel wall. Probably could get a few more winks before we arrived.

"You had another one of those visions, didn't you?"

I sighed—no rest for the wicked.

"What gave it away?"

"Well, you awoke screaming for a start. I'm surprised you didn't wake up Zaalbar but the Wookiee sleeps like he's dead, I swear…"

A deep snore from the furball curled in the corner bunk proved his point. I couldn't help but smirk. The others must have been awake already. I closed my eyes again, yet images from that stupid vision kept impeding my beauty sleep.

Just my luck.

I threw my legs over the bed and stretched. "Might as well get up—early bird gets the tach and all that."

When I stood, Carth shot me one of his intense stares.

"Hey, don't go and pretend like you weren't in pain just a second ago. What was in your vision? And why...did it do that to you?"

I grabbed my robe from the storage compartment above my bunk.

"Aw...is Orangy worried about me?"

I made for the fresher, but the pilot crossed his arms. Great. He wanted "answers." I hovered near the bunk, internally debating the merits of disclosing my vulnerabilities and whether or not it won over being pestered all morning.

Disclosure won this time.

"The vision showed Revan deep in the Kashyyyk jungle. He found the Star Map on the forest floor but…" For some reason, I decided to leave out the massacre of the Czerka employees... "There was also a beast—a terrifying beast—one filled with the dark side. As if a krayt dragon hadn't been bad enough."

Carth nodded. "I see." I took that as my signal to start moving to the fresher once more, however, the pilot continued. "You know, you can talk to us about these visions if you want to, Wes. Same goes for Bastila. You both don't have to keep it between just the two of you. I know it's a Jedi thing and that none of us really understand the Force. But keeping something like that bottled up...I know from experience that doesn't end well."

A grin grew on my face and my shoulders relaxed.

"I appreciate it, Carth, but I'm fine—really. The visions are helping us combat the Sith. Because of 'destiny,' I guess."

Carth sighed. "Some destiny."

"The Sith have to be stopped. Perhaps only so that I can have some peace of mind. Literally. And maybe...that's why the visions are the way they are." I smirked. "Because otherwise, I would've run away long ago."

"If you say so…"

Yes, that had to be it. The Force knew I'd run from this Sith War given the chance. So that was why it wanted me to see Revan's dark presence in perfect detail. To drive me insane.

Force, I got the memo, alright? I'll find the stupid Star Maps and "save the galaxy." You can calm down with the depressingly violent visions.

For some reason, I'd actually expected an answer.

Yeah, I really was going crazy.

All seven of our sentient crew members encircled the holodeck. Carth had set the Ebon Hawk to orbit the jungle planet as we awaited clearance. In the meantime, we needed to discuss our plan of action.

Bastila described the vision, including that portion I didn't want to mention before. Canderous already looked bored out of his mind. Verena and Carth watched the Jedi with scary intensity. Mission shot occasional glances at Juhani who hadn't spoken to us at all since that debacle the other day. She was still pissed for some Force-forsaken reason.

The caffa in my hand did little to clear this fog in my head.

Bastila finished her little speech then crossed her arms. "It is clear that we need to speak to the Wookiee population. They may know the location of the Star Map. Zaalbar?" The Wookiee flinched after he was addressed. Strange. "Will you be able to lend us your aid? If you could speak to the Wookiees on our behalf, that should speed up this process."

Zaalbar had been the quiet type. He'd growl a single word as I occasionally passed, or sit in silence in the comm room with his bowcaster, or consume all of the rations in the kitchens. Quietly. You'd think a Wookiee would make a lot more noise, but his decibel range barely peaked above thirty. Oh, well except that one time he got the "Water Spray Deluxe" on Taris.

He moved his head to stare at me. For some reason. I took another sip from my caffa. Needed more sugar.

"I…" he started to growl. "I don't think that I...can…"

Everyone except Mission and Verena met my gaze. I looked nervously from side to side, nonplussed by their abrupt attention.

"Why...why are you all looking at me?"

"I don't know. Can you translate?" Bastila asked.

Oh. Right. I forgot. Only Mission and I could understand him. Maybe that's why he was always so quiet. Don't tell me I was going to be the designated translator today. I really didn't want to pay attention to this stupid meeting half-awake as I was.

I sighed. "He said he doesn't think he ca—" I glared at him. "Wait—why can't you?"

"Because…" Zaalbar's wide shoulders sank. "I am a Mad Claw. An exile."

"Mad...Claw?"

Mission frowned. "Big Z...you don't have to…"

"No, Mission, they need to know." The Wookiee shuffled forward so that the light from the holodeck reflected in his marble eyes. "The reason I cannot help you is...I was exiled from my village. I know I should prepare you all before we get there...but I don't know if I'm prepared myself."

I huffed with impatience. "Can you please give me an actual explanation instead of woolly words? It's annoying that I have to translate as it is."

Zaalbar growled back. "Don't mock me! This is hard to talk about."

"Alright, alright! Kriffin' hell."

Fortunately, the Wookiee didn't pick me up and drag me around again. Instead, he crossed his trunk-like arms. And as he told his story, I translated.

"Two decades ago, Czerka Corporation arrived on Kashyyyk with advanced weapons and started making demands of my people. They wanted access to the jungle floor, access to resources, build facilities where our villages stood. My father, the leader of our tribe, went to the Czerka leaders and arranged a trade agreement. We all foolishly believed the peace talks were successful.

"But we had been deceived. After the agreements were made, I noticed an increase in exiles. More were brought before the Council under accusations of murder...theft...dishonor. Wookiees do not kill criminals. All are sentenced to the Shadowlands. Suspicious of my brother who oversaw the investigations, I followed him deep into the forest. There I discovered Czerka. They...they were chaining up the recently exiled. He'd accused innocents of crimes they didn't commit so that they could be enslaved by Czerka."

The poor Wookiee's growls became quiet and he lifted his sharp claws. "Once I discovered my brother's treachery, I attacked and scarred him with my claws. Wookiees...are never supposed to attack with our claws. My father did not believe me when I told him about my brother's betrayal. It was my word as a Mad Claw against his. So, I was disowned by my home and people and was banished to the Shadowlands. Then made a slave by Czerka." He gave a sad whimper. "That is why I cannot help you. If I go near my village...they will exile me again. They will never accept me back."

No one said a word after I finished translating the Wookiee's story. Zaalbar had said more there than he'd ever done while journeying with us.

Carth frowned. "Well, there goes that lead."

"I'm...sorry that happened to you, Zaalbar," Bastila said. "It's probably best if you stay behind. We will have to speak to the Wookiees without your help."

I crossed my arms. "But time has passed. People move on and change their minds. Who knows, maybe your father learned the truth and banished your brother."

Zaalbar gave a Wookiee sigh. "I wish I shared your optimism, Wes, but I doubt my father ever changed his mind."

"You won't know unless you find out, right?"

The Wookiee stared at me for a minute before he shook his head. "I...suppose. I don't know..."

I smiled. "Don't worry about it. We'll ask around first. No need to go straight to your village."

Mission nodded. "Yeah, Big Z, and we'll be here to help you if anything goes wrong."

Thankfully, she was able to convince the Wookiee. "Alright, I guess I can...join you for a bit."

And, with that, this useless meeting adjourned.

Unlike Tatooine, it had been easy to get clearance to land on one of the many wooden platforms suspended off of one of Kashyyyk's many wroshyr branches. Czerka infested this planet like maggots to a corpse. Unfortunately, due to the vision, the Star Map must have been near civilization both in Wookiee and Czerka form. At least we narrowed it down to a few hundred kilometers. Of course, finding the Star Map was the least of our worries.

Once we landed, all of the crew left the ship to stretch their legs after the long flight. The sound of many creatures cascaded and overwhelmed us like a rapid river. Through the Force, even, the sensation of billions of lives jostled around, growing darker and darker as I sensed downward.

HK's metal feet vibrated the ramp as he followed me. Turning, I glared at the machine.

"Oh no you don't—you're staying on the ship."

The droid's head twisted. "Query: Are you in no need of defense? Astonishment: I didn't realize my master was so foolishly naive."

Now it was talking down to me?

"Of course I need defense, tin can. That's why I'm leaving you on the Ebon Hawk. Watch for anything suspicious while we're away and let me know about it."

That and I wasn't comfortable with having Darth kriffing Revan's assassin droid following us around.

HK's red light blinked. "Indignation: I am not a security droid, Master. For you to even suggest it is an insult to my primary function."

"Your 'primary function' is to listen to my orders or I'll chuck you off the platform."

HK's lights dimmed. "Fine." It hissed underneath its breath as it turned. "Meatbag."

"You—!"

But the red droid disappeared in the ship with a clank, clank before I could follow through with my threat.

The landing port was bustling with cargo ships and freighters all marked with those Czerka Corporation insignias. Some of that cargo included caged Wookiees. I turned, trying to look for Zaalbar to make sure he wasn't going to get into trouble with these core slimes.

Before I could find the Wookiee, Bastila strode up to me.

"We've got a problem."

The Jedi brought me to a check-in station that was being guarded by a few security droids. An Ithorian dressed in Czerka memorabilia, held up a datapad, flapping his disgusting mouth flaps at me.

He spoke in his muffled language. "You are the captain?"

Captain? I smirked. "I don't know...am I?" The Jedi shook her head. I sighed. Fine, guess I'll play along. "What is it?"

"Er...while I am pleased to welcome you to Edean, I do not see your ship on my docking schedule."

I raised a brow. "What do you mean? Isn't this Kashyyyk?"

The Ithorian showed me the datapad. "Kashyyyk is what the dominant indigenous species call this world, but maintaining this outpost grants Czerka Corporation naming rights in the trade handbook. This isn't a pit stop, human."

Lovely corporate rules and regulations. Fortunately, I had experience persuading annoying port authorities to allow us to remain docked. Especially if said docked ship had hot goods. Only this time the hot goods were us.

"Well, your schedule must be wrong. We're here to pick up a shipment."

The Ithorian hummed. "The schedule is never wrong. It says here the Josephine is supposed to dock at this port in a week. But this is the Ebon Hawk—"

"Ebon Hawk?" I feigned exasperation. "Stupid droid. It changed the ship's designation again. We really need to wipe its memory core one of these days."

"Oh! Right, I see...yeah, that would be a problem, huh? But...then why are you here so early?"

"The client rushed the shipment. Annoying, but they're paying extra."

The Ithorian hummed again. "I don't know...this ship doesn't really look like a cargo freighter."

Ugh.

"Look, pal." I lowered my voice. "I represent important clients. Clients with filthy stacks of credits. Clients who want their cargo delivered on time. Cargo which my client doesn't want anyone to 'know' about. Get it?"

The Ithorian stared at me for a few moments before he began to make a note in his datapad.

"Guess it's their prerogative…" After a few more presses on the datapad, the Ithorian nodded. "I apologize, it will take a few days to get the cargo prepared. We hadn't...expected you. Hopefully, your client won't mind."

I smiled, holding my hips. "No worries. Take your time." I kept that grin on my face as the Czerka employee left to keep up the image of a "well-mannered yet bumbling freight captain."

"You handled that rather effectively."

Oh, Bastila. Forgot she was there.

"Rather effectively?" I crossed my arms and faced the Jedi. "No, I handled that perfectly."

"That...that was supposed to be a compliment."

"That was a compliment?" I raised a brow with a smirk. "If that was a compliment, you need to work a little bit on your delivery, sunshine."

The kinrath-pup glare returned along with a blush on her cheeks. "Is there a humble bone in your body? Or does your enormous ego always get in the way?" She returned my humored stare with a sigh. "Anyway, now that we've gotten that taken care of, we need to find the Wookiee settlement."

"Easier said than done…"

Before I could continue with that line of thought, there was a sharp growl than a shout that sounded too much like Mission. In fact, it was Mission. Bastila and I gave each other a look before we rushed to the scene.

A crowd of Czerka employees and port workers started to form on the opposite side of the platform. I pushed some of these workers aside in order to get a closer look at the commotion.

"Big Z, no!"

Mission pulled at Zaalbar's carpet of an arm. Cargo bins of metal collars had been dumped onto the metal floor of the port. Slave collars. Most likely for the Wookiees Czerka planned on selling to skeevy buyers. Zaalbar ignored Mission and took another canister of the devices. This time, he dumped them over the edge to the jungle below.

A few armed Czerka employees rushed to the scene with blasters raised. An old man and another Ithorian stood on a raised platform. The old Czerka employee's voice projected from the speakers surrounding the port.

"Whoever owns that Wookiee, please order it to release the cargo or we will shoot to contain."

I shoved humans and aliens aside until I arrived at the scene.

"Zaalbar, put that down!"

The Wookiee froze with another canister in hand after hearing my voice. His eyes were crazed. The old man with the comm glared down at me.

"Are you the owner of this Wookiee?"

Owner?

I shouted up at them. "Zaalbar is no slave. He has pledged a life debt to me." One I occasionally forgot the Wookiee gave (for some reason).

The old man and Ithorian exchanged looks. "A...very difficult thing to stage," the old man said. "Unfortunately, that life debt of yours has backfired."

Zaalbar roared then threw the container in his grip at the armed Czerka. They deftly dodged the shipment. Guess that was one way to put it down...

"Do not demean my life debt! Do not!"

"Please…call him off."

Fortunately, Zaalbar stopped on his own without my "orders." The Wookiee deflated and shuffled towards us. Mission followed with a deep frown on her face. That was when Carth made his entrance.

The pilot whispered in my ear. "What the hell is going on here? I thought we were supposed to be laying low?"

I waved my arms. "Hey, it's not my fault this time."

We were about to leave as quietly as possible, but the Ithorian snatched the comm from the old man. The armed Czerka and security droids faced us with their blasters raised.

"And where do you think you're going?" the Ithorian asked.

Kriff.

I didn't turn around as I answered. "A cantina. Yelling at core slimes makes a man parched."

The Ithorian didn't comment on my insult. "You will be responsible for the actions of your Wookiee. Those collars cost us a fortune. Follow my employees to my office or else we will place you under arrest."

Great. Just great. Wonderful. Fan-kriffing-tastic.

Carth, Bastila, Mission, Zaalbar, and I were led through the Czerka built walkways with blasters at the front and at our back. Hopefully, this was going to be the last time I was captured and dragged around like this. After we somehow talked our way out of this situation, of course. If that wasn't possible, well, Juhani, Canderous, and Verena could figure out how to get us out.

Yeah, right. Maybe in a million lightyears.

As if summoned by my thoughts, I spotted Juhani, Verena, and Canderous as we passed by our port. The Mando and Cathar looked as if they were about to start a fight with each other—not surprising since they were always about to start a fight with each other.

As we passed, Verena opened her mouth to ask why we were being led around like kath hounds. I shook my head before she revealed that she was associated with us.

Eventually, we were led to a sleek building past the spaceports. It appeared unnaturally sleek amongst the wroshyr branches. Our temporary guards motioned with their blasters towards the building and we had no choice but to enter the air-conditioned entryway.

The guards led us down a long hallway past many office doors and break rooms. Some employees talked and joked amongst each other, some were on serious holocalls, some inspected boxes filled with bottles. A few droids swept the halls clean behind us as we walked. Eventually, the guards opened a door with a keycard. It opened up into a sterile waiting room. Holocharts and beige couches lined the walls along with an empty reception desk. Why did all Czerka buildings look the same?

The guards ordered us to stay in the waiting room while their leader—Janos Wertka—fixed our "mess."

After they left, Carth swung around to face Zaalbar.

"What the hell were you thinking! We were supposed to be laying low!"

Mission pouted. "Hey!"

"Is now the time to be pointing fingers?" I asked.

"This wouldn't be happening, Wes, if the Wookiee stayed on board the ship. But you had to convince him to come with us."

"I didn't force him under blaster point to come with us, Orangy."

The Wookiee made a small whimper in response then shuffled away before kneeling in the corner. He looked as if he had given up on doing anything, never mind defending himself.

"I thought things might have changed…" Zaalbar gave a broken growl, "but it looks like my people are still being enslaved."

Mission kneeled next to Zaalbar and rubbed his furry shoulder. Meanwhile, Bastila stared ahead without giving a comment on the situation we now faced. I held my hips in my "I'm thinking of a plan to get us out of here" pose.

"What now?" Carth asked.

Bastila narrowed her eyes. "Now? Now we do whatever Czerka wants so that we don't get kicked off the planet."

"Yeah, they already want to do that." I scoffed. "Anyone have an actual plan?"

Before Carth could open his mouth to mention a plan I was sure to dismiss, the metal doors hissed open to reveal the Ithorian shouting in the comm from earlier. The alien muttered something beneath his guttural voice and passed us as if we were botflies in a Naboo swamp.

"You spacers have a lot of explaining to do for interrupting our operations here. We have a deadline to keep and not enough credits to waste." The Ithorian opened the doors to his office. We all followed him—Zaalbar eyed the Czerka Ithorian with beady black eyes.

The Ithorian—who was Janos Wertka based on his name plastered on his desk—sat and narrowed his tubular eyes.

"Four blocks of expensive, high-tech restraining collars. Dumped like compactor trash. Do you know how much just one of those collars cost me?"

I turned my eyes to Carth who then turned his gaze to Bastila who then turned her gaze to me. Then, everyone looked at me as if I was going to get us out of this mess. Me...again. Why was it always up to me?

I tried to do the math.

"Two...no—300?"

Janos didn't skip a beat.

"1,000 credits. Each."

I laughed. "Oh, come on! 1,000 credits? What black market are you buying those from because that's a scam!"

Bastila kicked my shin. Which I ignored. I think I'm starting to build up calluses down there.

Janos hissed. "Do you think this is a joke? Your Wookiee dumped thousands of credits to the Shadowlands. I'm surprised he isn't restrained right now."

That line caused Zaalbar to snap. "This is why I didn't want to come along."

The Ithorian leaned forward. "I'm sorry, I don't have a protocol droid to translate at the moment."

"I should have let him dump more," I muttered. "What you're doing here in Kashyyyk is disgusting and I'm surprised the Republic hasn't stopped you. Slavery is one hundred percent illegal there for a reason. A good one."

I could sense Bastila trying to communicate through the bond that stirring the pot with Czerka was not a good idea. There is no emotion, there is peace and all that. But I hated slavers. And slavers who thought they were doing nothing wrong were even worse.

Janos rolled his fishy eyes. "Edean is not a member of the Republic, therefore, its backward citizens have no rights under Republic law. I'm sorry you are offended, but being offended has cost us credits. I assure you, this operation is very humane. Even the Wookiee leadership knows it is more beneficial to work with us."

"Humane?" Heat coated my face. "How the hell is slavery humane—"

"Why would the Wookiees tolerate you doing this?" Bastila interrupted.

"It is not me enslaving them personally. I merely represent Czerka Corporation at this outpost. Arrangements have been made with the Wookiee leadership. We supply arms in exchange for a supply of healthy Wookiees. We are kept profitable and an agreeable leader is put in power. It keeps the process from becoming a constant firefight."

A pit grew in my stomach. How could a leader sell out their own people like this?

"Who is this leader?" I asked.

"I believe his name is Chuundar."

Zaalbar whimpered. "That was not a name I wanted to hear."

Before I could ask the Wookiee to clarify, Janos continued. "I don't deal directly with them, thank goodness. Harvesting is supposed to be handled as delicately as possible, relatively speaking."

"Delicately?" Zaalbar growled. "You cannot force a Wookiee to go with you delicately."

Janos sat up then placed a shock baton on his desk. "Why do you let your Wookiee speak?" He waited for a moment, perhaps waiting for me to use that shock baton on him, but when I didn't move, he weaved his fingers together. "In any case, the Wookiee damaged our property. You need to either recover the restraining collars from the Shadowlands, pay an enormous sum, or you can leave and never return. It's your choice."

I licked my lips after the Ithorian gave that ultimatum. Bastila looked defeated as well. Carth shook his head while muttering something underneath his breath. And Mission tightened and paled at the options presented to us.

"At least give us time to get the collars back, alright?" I said.

I had no intention of doing that of course. They could go to all hells. Once we got the Star Map, nothing was stopping us from leaving. Guess it also gave us an excuse to go down there without looking suspicious.

Janos hummed in his guttural language. "You do look as if you can handle yourselves…" He leaned back. "Alright. Fine. I will give you a week." He typed something then shoved his datapad forward. "Here is a recent record of the shipment as well as their trackers. You need to get all of them back. All of them."

I yanked the datapad from the desk and pretended to transfer the information. Carth spoke over my shoulder.

"And how, exactly, do we get down there?"

Janos shrugged. "In an hour, I'll have some of my hirelings escort you to the Wookiee settlement. The beasts don't trust outsiders and they only allow a chosen few down to the jungle floor. You will need to speak to the Wookiee leader to get clearance. Good luck with that—it took us weeks to even speak to their leader when we first arrived." Once the transfer finished, Janos yanked the datapad back. "And get out of my office."

We returned to the platform of our ship awaiting the supposed group of employees that were going to take us to the settlement. A line of Wookiees were led past us towards the shuttles. All of them were shocked with a stun stick. One was a kriffing child.

This place sucked. It was almost as bad as Taris. Almost.

Carth groaned as he leaned onto the wooden railing. I joined his side and stared down at the uproarious jungle below. We'd spoken to Canderous, Juhani, and Verena about our situation. And, obviously, they didn't like it either. Bastila hung back while Mission and Zaalbar sulked on my left.

Zaalbar whimpered. "I'll only be a hindrance to this mission. My father was very powerful...a chieftain. Maybe his feelings about me have mellowed, but if my brother had his ear all this time, I'll be very unwelcome." He pushed back. "I think I will stay on the ship."

My grip on the railing tightened. "So, you're going to let these idiots enslave your people? Just...sit back and do nothing?"

Instead of the Wookiee responding, Bastila cut in. "What could he do, exactly? What could we do? We are here for the Star Map if you'll recall."

The damn Star Map.

"The Star Forge and the Sith can wait." I pushed away from the railing so that I could face the Jedi. "But the Wookiees...they've been enslaved for twenty years. Suffered for twenty years. How long will it take until their suffering matters to you?"

Bastila flinched at my words—images of a hooded figure with a strong voice on a holoscreen seeped into her mind. For some reason, it caused terror to poison the bond. She threw up a thought shield before I could understand why.

Once she got ahold of herself again, she huffed. "Of...of course their suffering matters to me. I would gladly end it, had I the power. But we don't have the manpower or the time for a rebellion—as much as you would like to start one."

"We may not have the manpower," I said. "But we have the Wookiees. They outnumber Czerka, surely. Zaalbar could convince them."

The exiled Wookiee whimpered. "But I'm a Mad Claw—no one would ever listen to me. And an off-worlder wouldn't convince them to go to war against Czerka either."

I smirked. "Oh, but you haven't even seen me try."

"I'm sorry, I hate it too, but Bastila is right, Wes." Carth leaned away from the rail. "We can't get mixed up in this. We need to leave Zaalbar behind."

"We got mixed up in this once we landed on this planet."

Mission pouted—it looked as if she was taking my side. Until she spoke that is. "I don't know, Wes…I think if Zaalbar thinks he should stay behind, he should."

Something that felt like a deep rage burned my chest. A familiar, aching, darkness. In response to that rage, my voice grew dark. I threw my hand at Zaalbar. "Fine. Stay on the ship. Do nothing like a coward."

"Wes, that is—"

But Bastila's argument was cut off when the Wookiee stormed away. I blocked the dark anger exchanged through the bond, blocked Bastila's false soothing, blocked it all.

Until Bastila forced her way through and spoke to me through the bond.

There is no emotion, there is peace. Remember our lessons, Wes.

I glared at her.

If controlling my emotions means ignoring an injustice right in front of my face...then what is the point?

There is a time and place to right wrongs. Now is not the time.

When then, Bastila? When?

And she didn't have an answer. Of course she didn't. Instead of an answer, she blocked any further thoughts from getting past her ivory, Jedi mind-tower.

We all waited the rest of the hour in complete silence.