Until the Stars Fade

by R. Constance

As a promising young Padawan on Dantooine, Bastila Shan fell in love with Revan, the man whose bleak fate would forever be intertwined with her own. But did he love her in return? KOTOR reimagining with twists and flashbacks. Focuses on Revan/Bastila's relationship (before the War and after his reign as Sith Lord), their pasts, and introduces new characters. May be upgraded to M.

45. Chapter 45 - The Fears

Chapter 45: The Fears

Carth wiped his sure-to-be-blistered palms on his thighs as he scanned the bedroom. With its jewel-toned drapes, arched entryways, and intricate murals of days-gone-by adorning the sandstone walls, Shefali's guest house where Latch and Helena would now live looked nothing like his home on Telos. And yet, this place reminded him of the humble residence he once shared with his beloved wife and son. For a moment, he wondered if Isabet might like his recently-rebuilt home, should they ever visit his homeworld. The thought of his new partner traversing the once-lonely halls of his homestead made Carth feel hopeful and warm, though he pushed those emotions aside in favor of focusing on the here-and-now. "I think that's all of it," he declared with an exhale. "Izz, did you see anything else on the ship?"

"Nope," Isabet replied with a grunt, setting yet another storage cylinder onto the tiled floor. "This is the last of it. No thanks to fuckface or his Cathar shadow," she cursed beneath her breath. "Where are they, anyhow? Gods know if Canderous is good for anything, it's manual labor. The goddamned assassination droid was more help than those two."

"They're at the port seeing their Miralukan companion off," Bastila answered, folding an azure quilt as she padded into the room and placed it atop the bed. "I can't seem to recall her name. I don't believe either of them explained her presence or introduced her to the crew."

"Her name's Lumin Dhers and we don't really know much about her," Carth noted. "All I know is that Juhani and Canderous were extremely protective of her. They introduced her to the rest of us, but that was when you were… ah… busy," he finally finished.

Given the traumas endured by Shefali, Latch, Bastila, and Penn on Manaan, their jaunt from the water world to Onderon had been a somber one. Conversations were few-and-far between, while laughter of any sort seemed out of the question. Instead of taking solace in the presence of her crewmates, Bastila had chosen to spend day-and-night in the medbay tending to her mother and distraught surrogate father. All — including Helena and Latch — knew her round-the-clock care was due in large part to Bastila's fear of encountering Shefali or Penn, the two people she deemed most unlikely to forgive her, though none brought attention to that fact.

Isabet bolstered Carth's previous statement with a nonchalant shrug, her tone lighthearted. "You didn't miss much."

Grateful that neither had brought additional attention to her behavior, the Knight flashed a tight-lipped smile as she glanced into the parlor where Latch and Helena sat hand-in-hand. A visiting nurse tended to the elder woman. "I'm grateful my mother and Latch have rekindled their friendship and are able to rely upon one another," she said, her voice distant and unintentionally sorrowful as she recalled Latch's devastating heartbreak and her mother's grim prognosis. "We all need a friend in our darkest hours."

The Ebon Hawk's unlikely couple glanced at each other through the corners of their eyes; Carth's expression exuded confusion, whilst Isabet barely suppressed her smirk. "I don't know how to break this to you, hun, but the old man and your mom aren't friends," Isabet informed in a low voice, earning a head tilt of skepticism. "Have you noticed there's only one bed in this joint? I don't think either of them are planning on couch surfing." Recognizing the truth of Isabet's words, Bastila's eyes widened as she took a swift step away from the mattress in question. "Can't say I blame Helena," the Mandalorian mumbled. "If I were twenty years older and Latch was single -"

"Hey!" Carth interjected, frowning.

"And I didn't have you," Isabet backtracked with a cheeky wink, playfully slapping his ribs. "You didn't give me a chance to finish my hypothetical situation, Republic."

Bastila's face pinkened as she stared at the bed, then at the older couple's joined hands in the next room, then back at the bed. While she had always viewed Nikolaj more akin to a brother rather than a potential romantic partner, his declaration of love put their parents' union in a new — and incredibly odd — light. "I…" Her voice more hoarse than usual, Bastila noisily cleared her throat and attempted to rid her mind of the images floating into her subconscious. "I suppose I should be grateful you've distracted me from more pressing matters for a moment, though I cannot say I ever wished to envision Latch or my mother in such a… capacity."

The reaction garnered a wide grin from Isabet. Deciding to seek forgiveness instead of permission, she reached out and pulled Bastila to her breast for a warm embrace. At first, Bastila was rigid in Isabet's arms, but, after a moment, returned her roommate and unexpected friend's affection. "I never would've expected to say this back when we met on Kashyyyk," Isabet began, pushing Bastila to arms' length so she could look into her eyes, "but gods I'm gonna miss that innocent mind of yours."

"Are you sure you have to go, Bas?" Carth chimed in. "Given how far we've come, it doesn't feel right that you're not able to see this mission through."

"I'm afraid the Council has requested my presence," Bastila replied, forlorn. "I'm unsure as to who they intend to send to complete my responsibilities, but I have no doubt my replacement will be more than suitable and will provide the support necessary to complete our objective."

"I don't care who your Council is sending: they're not you," Isabet countered. "I'm sure Thayer would agree." Bastila fell eerily silent at the mention of her former lover, whom she had not spoken to since their dramatic exit from Manaan. In fact, no one had spoken to Penn since their departure as he had opted to spend nearly all of his time in solitude behind the locked hatch of the Ebon Hawk's gun turret. Apparently, Isabet recognized the discomfort her statement brought about and backpedaled. "Sorry," she apologized. "That was out of line, I know. I just don't want you to leave."

"None of us do," Carth added. "The Hawk just won't be the same without you, Bas."

Touched by the sincerity of Isabet's and Carth's words, Bastila forced a momentary smile. Fearing she may allow her fraught emotions to get the better of her, she gestured to the chronometer on the nightstand. "I haven't much time left before my shuttle leaves," Bastila sighed, looking for an excuse to end the emotionally-charged interaction. "I should take the slice hounds for a walk so Shefali doesn't need to this evening."

The pilot waved her off. "Don't worry about that. We can do it before our meeting with Izz's contact to get a new ID signature for the Hawk. You should relax with Latch and your mom. Who knows when you'll see each other again?"

"Thank you, but no," Bastila promptly responded. "A brisk walk will do me good."

Sensing her fellow woman's heartache and need to be alone, Isabet rested her hand upon Bastila's shoulder. "We'll be on the Hawk if you need us, sweetheart." Isabet tipped her head, prompting Carth to follow her toward the exit.

After the couple left, Bastila walked the short distance through the courtyard to Shefali's impressive villa; she leashed the slice hounds Nikolaj adopted to protect his family and began walking through Iziz, allowing the canines to chart their path. The stroll was mundane until the larger of the hounds began sniffing the air. Then, the smaller followed suit. Before Bastila could calm them, the canines began charging up the nearby Sky Ramp, sprinting toward a silhouette in the distance. "Heel, girls!" Bastila shrieked, trying to halt their mad gallop. "Heel!"

The leashes slipped free of Bastila's grip, allowing the dogs to finish their dash. Bastila chased after them, though she slowed her steps once she realized who the figure was.

Revan.

He looked different from the last time she saw him nearly a full week ago. He was different. Since leaving Dantooine to embark upon their journey, Penn rarely wore any attire that identified him as a Jedi, choosing instead to wear his old scout uniform or nondescript clothing that could be purchased from any market in the galaxy. Now, he sported the traditional frock of a Jedi, albeit an atypical, all-black version. He had trimmed his beard which had grown unkempt during his time in captivity down to stubble, and pulled his shoulder-length hair into a half-up, half-down style that made Bastila hold her breath. Unbeknownst to Penn, he looked more like his former self than he ever had. Or perhaps, he did know…

She stood in silence, watching as the hounds wagged their tails and eagerly licked his fingertips before speaking, attempting to sound as casual as possible given her nerves. "I had not expected to find you here on the Sky Ramp," she admitted. "Not that I had been searching for you, of course. The slice hounds led me here," Bastila clarified, though she secretly wondered if the Force had played a role in their reunion. "I respect your privacy."

Penn gave the hounds' heads a final pat before straightening to look at the sun setting over the jungles just beyond. "I didn't expect to be up here either," he flatly responded, arms folded behind his back. "The Council of Lords sent for me and told me to wait here until I'm summoned. I'm not sure what they want, but I figured it wouldn't be a good idea to ignore the request."

"A wise decision," she solemnly agreed as she, too, surveyed the golden sunset. She stole a glance at him through the corner of her eye. His face — which, despite all that had transpired, she still considered the most beautiful sight in the universe — was etched in an expression she could not read. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? Anguish? The Knight reached out through the Force, only to discover their bond was sealed. Since she had not made an effort to siphon herself from him, she knew he had made the decision to be fully alone with his thoughts. The inability to sense his emotions or gain a glimpse of his innermost thoughts was unsettling; she had not fully appreciated the intimacy they shared until this moment. Before she could stop herself, Bastila made an inquiry in a small, unsure voice. "What are you thinking about?"

He hesitated before calmly replying, still staring straight ahead. "I'm not sure you want to know."

Although she feared his thoughts may wound her heart even more, she insisted. "If you're willing to share, I would like to hear."

He remained quiet for longer than he had intended to, brows knit, before responding in a wholly unexpected manner. "That not that long ago, I could have destroyed this entire world with a snap of my fingers," he said, pensive yet ashamed. "I could have killed everyone and everything here… and no one in the galaxy would have been able to say or do a thing about it…" Penn felt Bastila's grey eyes watching him closely — studying him — though her gaze did not bear the weight of fear or judgement he had anticipated. Instead, it radiated compassion and a willingness to understand. "And yourself?"

The volleyed question caught Bastila unprepared. "I…" she exhaled, collecting her thoughts, "I suppose my thoughts have been dwelling on Nikolaj, as of late… and you… and my impending discipline from the Jedi Council." Bastila breathed deep before straightening, feigning confidence though she knew her former lover could see straight through her, even without the luxury of their shared bond. "I had not expected things to end in such a manner, but I suppose this is goodbye. Most likely forever." When Penn's shoulders displayed the slightest hint of tension at the unceremonious goodbye, Bastila relayed hers and the Council's mutual decision to remove her from the situation. "I understand that my presence may prove detrimental to the success of the mission and may be… distracting and bothersome. I've already spoken to Carth and told him the Council has requested my presence, without mentioning the situation at-hand. He will continue on, as will the others, I'm sure. I have already purchased fare on the next shuttle to Coruscant. From there, I will find passage to Dantoo-"

"No," Penn interrupted, resolute and calm. "We started this together, and we're going to end it together. If you leave, I'm done." Despite herself, Bastila's stormy eyes brightened and her stomach fluttered; she tried to suppress the flood of hope from transferring through their bond, but did not act quickly enough. The emotions, however, were ones Penn was not yet ready to address. Although he loathed himself for doing so, he snuffed her hope before it fully ignited. "I have questions I need answered and I don't think I'll get honesty out of the Council, even after this mission is over-and-done with."

Her hopes of a reconciliation dashed, Bastila's shoulders slumped. "Oh," she breathed, swallowing hard. "Yes… I… Yes, of course. I… I will inform the Council of the change in plans."

Since their reunion on Taris all those months ago, Penn and Bastila had never shared an uncomfortable silence as conversation and banter seemed to come naturally to them. But now, a thick, awkward silence took hold. For several minutes, the two listened to the distant roars of the menacing creatures lurking in the wilderness beyond the wall on which they stood until finally, Bastila spoke. "I know my words carry little weight in your mind given all that has happened, but I swear on everything I am, I will never lie to you again."

As Bastila gathered the leashes and turned to return to Shefali's villa, Penn felt a stirring in his soul. He knew he should allow her to leave without fanfare, yet his heart would not permit him to remain quiet. "When we were in the Hrakert Station, I asked you a question and never received an answer," he murmured, conjuring memories of his marriage proposal when life seemed far more simple than it actually was. "What was your answer going to be?"

Her heart pounding, Bastila looked over her shoulder. Despite her turmoil and the sting of humiliation, she chose to remain true to her promise. "I was preparing to tell you of your past, and what the Council and I had done to you… And, if the question you posed was still relevant to the situation…" She hesitated, catching her breath and suppressing the hitch in her voice before answering. "I planned to accept your proposal. I would have said 'yes'."

The revelation made Penn's heart leap and sink simultaneously, though he kept his feelings to himself, making a concerted effort to seal their bond. Running away with Bastila had long been his dream, but now, he realized it was nothing more than a fool's hope; a dream that was never meant to be. "Who would you have been saying 'yes' to?" he inquired in a low voice.

In a bold move and earnest display of her promise to be forthcoming and honest, Bastila faced him. "To the only man I have ever loved," she responded. "Regardless of name, or title, or memories, he has always been the same. He still is the same, and I suspect he always will be, which, for better or worse, makes me love him all the more." When Penn's jaw stiffened, it was clear to Bastila she had been more candid than she ought. "I… I should leave you be," she recovered before voicing yet another apology. "I will never be able to atone for all the hurt I've caused and I know my words are worthless, but I cannot express how incredibly sorry I am."

Since the reveal of his identity, Penn had spent every waking hour tearing himself apart. The thought of Bastila experiencing the same turmoil as he destroyed him even more. He wished to put an end to it. "You don't need to apologize anymore," he quietly stated before finally turning to look Bastila in the eye. "What's done is done. There's no point in rehashing it." Penn was not remotely prepared to reexamine the more personal nature of his relationship with Bastila, yet he could not fully quash his fondness for her as he continued. "I'm not angry at you and I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I just need -"

"Space," Bastila interjected with a nod, believing herself to have completed his thought.

"I need time," he corrected with a gentleness Bastila did not think herself worthy of. "I don't know who I was and, at this point, I don't know who I'm supposed to be. All I know is that I've hurt people… I hurt people."

Her eyes and heart overflowing with compassion, she took an eager step closer. "Rev-" Bastila bit her lip, wincing as she nearly called him by his former name without permission before shifting course. "Penn, you -"

"Padawan Thayer?" The Jedi turned to see a trio of guards wearing brown-and-cream uniforms standing at attention a few paces away. "The Council of Lords is prepared to see you."

Although he knew the conversation that was about to take place between himself and Bastila needed to happen, Penn found himself grateful for the interruption. She seemed to understand the need to cut their discussion short, pursing her lips and nodding. "Excuse me, Knight Shan," Penn formally addressed Bastila with an apologetic dip of the head before following the guards inside the palace walls.

As they trekked through the palace, Penn soaked in all he could of the impressive architecture and murals depicting majestic kings and queens of old, the unyielding wilds just beyond the walls of Iziz, and romanticized scenes of Onderon's most glorious victories in battle. Finally, he was led into the Grand Parliament of the Council of Lords. Instead of the dozens of Onderonian lords Penn anticipated meeting, however, he was surprised to find a lone individual draped in a wealth of black satin standing at the chamber's center, arms folded across their chest. Penn did not need to see the individual's face to know who they were.

Shefali.

Recalling her expression of utter contempt and knowing the close friendship he once shared with Shefali was nothing more than a memory, Penn felt his pulse quicken. This was yet another conversation for which he was unprepared. "The Jedi Penn Thayer, as you requested," the guard leading him declared, gesturing to the Padawan. "Is there anything more we can do, Lady Vaklu-Fel?"

"Leave us," Shefali coldly demanded, her once-soothing voice echoing ominously in the expanse. The command resulted in a mass exodus of guards until she and Penn were the only two in the chamber. Shefali stared at Penn over her shoulder for an uncomfortably long period of time before ending the quietude. "Nikolaj thought our firstborn would be a girl," she said, her voice strained yet biting as she turned to face him. "He was wrong: I'm having a boy. A son who will grow up without a father because he lied to save another."

Guilt-ridden and sick to his stomach, Penn closed his eyes tight, replaying the dramatic scene from the Ahto City High Court as he had a thousand times since that fateful day. "Shefali," he began, apologetic, "I can't tell you how sorry -"

"I know who you are," she harshly interrupted, nostrils flared and piercing eyes glowing with fire. The declaration made Penn's blood run cold; a fear unlike anything he had ever experienced settled in his core as Shefali boldly stepped closer to arguably the most dangerous individual in the universe. "You are a murderer. A liar. A traitor. A villain. My husband is far from a perfect man, but he is not deserving of the fate that became him. A fate that should have been yours!"

In his heart of hearts, Penn wished to escape this verbal onslaught as he was already at his lowest point and feared he could not withstand any additional shame heaped upon his head. He fought his instincts, however, standing in silence and humbly accepting the deserved tonguelashing. "Before you and Knight Shan arrived on Manaan, I had the life I always dreamt of. One filled with love and happiness. My family opened our home and our hearts to you, yet in return for our kindness, you destroyed everything I loved!" Shefali accused, voice steadily rising until she was yelling. "My family! My hopes! My dreams for my future; for my son's future! You destroyed everything! Everything! I should despise you and curse the day you were born for all you have done! And yet…" Shefali paused, breathing deep and softening her tone as she collected herself. "Despite my best efforts, I find myself incapable of hating you," she unexpectedly revealed, battling hot tears of release. "I do not understand your motivations for taking up the mantle of a Jedi Padawan, nor do I understand what prompted you to change, but I know I saw the true you on Manaan. I saw a man who is faithful to his cause and his companions. One who strives to help others. One who is steadfast in the pursuit of the greater good. Before he was taken from me, Nikolaj reminded me of those facts. He said you were a decent man doing everything in your power to redeem yourself and begged me not to hold you responsible for his decision," she disclosed, eliciting an expression of disbelief from Penn. "Even if he had not, I know in my heart neither you nor Knight Shan intended to harm me or my family. And for those reasons, I cannot hate you. You are no longer the monster I once believed you to be."

The undeserved kindness extended to him by both Shefali and Nikolaj caught Penn by surprise. Although Shefali believed he had chosen this path by his own volition, Penn knew the truth and slowly shook his head. "Changing wasn't my choice," he shamefully admitted. "It was forced upon me. I doubt I would've changed if it had been my decision. I'm not a good person. I'm not sure I ever have been…"

Shefali squinted, examining him and his words before reminding him of the objective truth. "The decision to change for the betterment of others may not have been your choice, but the decision to stay the course and remain loyal to your cause has. Despite what you may believe about yourself, you have changed." Crafting her next words with care, she hesitated, twisting her wedding band around her spindly finger. "Nikolaj always said the life of a Jedi was one of sacrifice. He may have left the Order long ago, but his sense of duty and self-sacrifice never left him." Once more, she paused, blotting her misted eyes. "My husband's sacrifice afforded you the opportunity to atone for your past and save that which you once sought to destroy. I trust you will not squander it."

Although he was unsure of who he was supposed to be, what he wanted for his future, and just about everything else in his life, Penn was certain he would see this mission through and responded accordingly. "I won't let you down, Shefali. You or Nikolaj. I swear to you, his sacrifice won't have been for nothing."

The sincere words seemed to have been exactly what she wished to hear. "I have every confidence you will remain a man of your word and for that, I thank you."

The privacy of the conversation was interrupted by several elderly men — presumably Shefali's colleagues on the Council of Lords — entering the colossal chamber in preparation for a convening. Too engrossed in conversations of their own, none of the lords seem to pay him or Shefali any mind. However, Penn sensed their time together was growing short and stepped nearer to the lone lady of the Council. "What comes next for you?" he quietly inquired.

Shefali rubbed her burgeoning belly before responding. "For now, I shall prepare for the arrival of my son, assist Latch and Helena as they settle on Onderon, and resume my duties on the Council of Lords, as Nikolaj requested. After I give birth, I will spend every waking hour fighting for my husband's freedom and raising our son in a manner that will make him proud."

Before Penn could help himself, he heard himself voice a desire deep within his heart. "I want to help you free Nik," he announced. "I'm not an arbiter, but I'll do whatever you need me to do to bring him home. But until we've earned his freedom, I want to support you and your son."

The corners of Shefali's full lips quirked into a faint yet affectionate smile. "I appreciate your drive to assist me, but, as you can see, your credits will provide nothing more than I already possess," she reminded, motioning to the grandeur surrounding them before her expression hardened into one of contemplation. "As for my husband… I will embark upon the journey for his freedom alone. I sense your skills will be needed elsewhere, even after your mission is complete. There will be larger wrongs to right and deeper wounds to heal. I do have one request, however."

"Anything," he promised, earnest. "Anything at all. Name it."

Her impending request was interrupted by a pair of guards just outside the entryway slamming their staffs against the floor three times. "Make way for Her Royal Highness Talia Nadd Kira, Queen of Onderon!" a herald called, prompting Shefali to action.

"In the presence of family and friends, Queen Talia is far less concerned with the formalities of the Court," Shefali hurriedly explained, reminding Penn of her status as a noblewoman and beloved second cousin of the young royal. "Because you are my associate and I will introduce you as such, a simple bow and ensuring you refer to her as 'Queen Talia' or 'Your Majesty' when addressing her shall suffice."

Then, the moment arrived. The guards opened the doors, ushering the Queen and her small entourage into the chamber. Queen Talia — a graceful woman clad in shimmering silks of gold, silver, and ruby — bore a striking resemblance to her second cousin. Much to Penn's surprise, Jolee was casually chatting with the young royal and the clean-cut man beside her as if they were old friends. Despite the radiant beauty of the Queen, Penn zeroed in on the man opposite Jolee: he was wearing the traditional robes of a Jedi Master. Although Penn was unsure as to who this man was, something about him was familiar. He wondered if this feeling of familiarity was true, or if it was a figment of his imagination, but he paid it no mind as he followed Shefali's lead and dipped his head low in a display of respect.

The Queen, however, quickly waved the formalities off. "There is no need for such behavior," Talia said, gesturing for Penn and Shefali to rise. "We are among friends. Or… I assume we are," she backpedaled, casting an unsure glance at her cousin that underscored just how green the royal truly was. "Shefali, introduce me to your colleague, won't you?"

Shefali grinned at Talia's warm greeting. "Cousin Talia," she began, "allow me to introduce my colleague, Padawan Penn Thayer." The arbiter hesitated for a moment, eyeing him closely before making an assertion only she and Penn fully understood the weight behind. "He is a good man and a true friend to the Republic."

Unaware of the immense gravity behind Shefali's words, Queen Talia extended her hand to Penn, allowing him to kiss her signet ring as tradition dictated, though he nearly missed the opportunity on account of his shock. "Any friend to the Republic is a friend to Onderon," Talia declared. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Padawan."

Though still trying to process Shefali's comment, Penn kept his mind on the present and humbly replied. "The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty."

A charmed Talia grinned, looking Penn up-and-down before turning her attention to her entourage. "I believe you both know Jolee Bindo. To my surprise, my mother knew and remembered him as well," she quietly relayed to her cousin, brows arched. "But allow me to introduce Master Josham Kavar. He is an esteemed member of the Jedi Council and is visiting on an exploratory mission from the Enclave on Dantooine."

The instant Penn heard the man before him was a member of the Jedi Council, his whole body tensed and the warm feelings building inside him vanished. In the milliseconds that followed, Penn mentally ran through the scattered memories of his past. While he did not yet recall one with Kavar, he had no doubt he had met the Master before as his bright blue eyes bore a distant familiarity.

"Padawan Thayer," Kavar addressed Penn, displaying his flawless smile as he extended his hand, "it's good to finally make your acquaintance. I've heard much about you."

Although Penn knew the decision was risky and potentially unwise, he could not suppress his indignation toward the Jedi Council. At this point, what more could they do to him? In a bid to make Kavar — and, by extension, the Council — squirm, Penn subtly called the Master's bluff. "It's good to see you again," he greeted in a low, acidic voice, maintaining eye contact as he firmly gripped Kavar's hand. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Kavar?"

It was clear his attempt worked; Kavar's smile faded, as did the color in his face. "I…" Kavar stammered as Jolee's face morphed into a scowl.

The speechless Master was rescued by the guards just outside the doors slamming their staffs against the floor, just as they had for the arrival of Queen Talia. "Make way for Her Royal Highness, Queen Mother Galia Nadd Kira!"

Unlike the relaxed atmosphere that preceded Queen Talia's entrance, the Queen Mother's elicited a distinctly different reaction from Shefali. She smoothed her clothing and lifted her veil, ensuring it covered the majority of her flowing raven locks, before addressing Penn in a hushed tone. "Queen Mother Galia is advanced in years and her memory is poor, at best. She has become a mute since my Great Uncle Oron's passing, but adheres closely to the traditions dictated by her forefathers." The doors opened once more, allowing a slight yet undeniably regal woman with a mane of silver-and-black hair to enter. A steely man dressed in an indigo uniform unlike any of the other soldiers walked alongside her. "My father is fiercely protective of his aunt, so do not make any sudden movements," she advised, unknowingly answering Penn's question as to who this man might be: the famed yet maligned General Vaklu. "Bow, then kiss the Queen Mother's ring should she choose to extend it. You may only rise if she invites you to do so," Shefali whispered her final instructions as she curtsied, eyes downcast. "Do not look Great Aunt Galia in the eye, as doing so is a sign of disrespect."

Following Shefali's lead, Penn lowered his head and gaze in anticipation of the Queen Mother's arrival. Out of his peripheral vision, he watched the Queen Mother extend her hand to Kavar, and Jolee, and Shefali, permitting each to kiss her ring and rise. The elder royal then approached him, eyeing him closely before beginning to extend her hand. Penn puckered his lips to kiss the signet ring, only to have the Queen Mother hook her frail fingers beneath his chin, forcing him to look up and into her eyes.

All in the expanse held their collective breath; General Vaklu and several of the palace guards stepped forward, pikes outstretched in anticipation of the Queen Mother's orders. Several missed heartbeats later, the royal's tired eyes brightened with pure excitement. "Ully!" she squealed, exuberantly clapping before kissing Penn's cheeks over, and over, and over. "Ully!"

The Queen stepped forward, resting a gentle hand upon Galia's shoulder. "I am afraid you are mistaken, mother," Talia corrected, evidently embarrassed by the unbecoming behavior that had garnered a chorus of whispers from the lords throughout the chamber. "This is the Jedi Padawan Penn Thayer. PENN THAYER," she repeated in a slightly louder voice, ensuring the Queen Mother's aging ears heard. "PENN."

The Queen Mother, however, was undeterred. "No," she insisted, pointing at Penn. "Ully."

Penn broke eye contact with the Queen Mother for a split-second, looking at Jolee just in time to see the hermit wiping his pallid face in disbelief. He then recalled Jolee's strange greeting when they met in the Shadowlands; this was not the first time he had been told he looked like another man. He wondered… "Ully?" Penn dared to repeat, looking back-and-forth between Shefali and Talia. "If I may, Your Majesty, who does she think I am?"

Glancing at her equally bewildered cousin and father, Shefali stepped closer as Talia and Vaklu whisked the Queen Mother away. "Do you remember the story of the Jedi Knight I spoke of as we waited for Yannai in the Detention Center?"

Penn recalled the grand feast in the Fels' courtyard when Shefali noted he was 'exactly what she believed a Jedi would look like' based on the bedtime stories relayed by her Great Aunt. He also recalled the tragic tale of the Jedi Knight-turned-Sith Lord, his star-crossed lover, and devastating end. "I do, yes."

"The stories Great Aunt Galia told us were not mere fables; the stories were the adventures — albeit aggrandized, of that I am sure — of a Jedi Knight whom the Queen Mother and my Great Uncle Oron were well-acquainted with in their younger days. 'Ully' was the nickname Great Aunt Galia bestowed upon him. His true name was Ulic. Ulic Qel-Droma."

"Ulic Qel-Droma," Penn repeated, the name thick in his mouth. "What else can you tell me about Ul-"

"Fali?" General Vaklu called from the exit's threshold, curling his finger to gesture for his daughter to come near. "A word."

Her blue eyes brightened as she took toward Vaklu. "Father," she began, motioning for Penn to follow close behind, "allow me to introduce Padawan Penn Thayer."

Fully anticipating a friendly interaction, Penn stepped closer and extended his hand, only to have the hostility he had sown into the universe moments prior returned to him in spades. "General, it's -"

"I asked to speak with my daughter, not you, Jedi," Vaklu icily interrupted Penn's greeting, eyes narrowed. "I do not wish to become acquainted with any more of your kind. Wherever Jedi congregate, trouble follows and as Onderon's chief protector, I am responsible for defending our world from whatever trouble you bring. Our forces have enough on our plates as it is. I wish our dear Queen would take that fact into account before inviting slews of Jedi dogs into the palace," he grumbled, doing little to hide his disdain for Talia.

"Father," she gasped, horrified and embarrassed. Shefali curled her lips before excusing herself to speak with her father. "I apologize for his behavior," Shefali whispered, blushing, though Penn did his best to calm her. "I do not wish for this to be how we part ways. Please do not leave until I have had a chance to speak with you one final time," she requested; a request Penn promptly acknowledged with a nod as he backtracked to give the father and daughter privacy.

When Penn was left to his own devices, Jolee approached, lips pursed and arms crossed. "Kavar was just appointed to the Council. He wasn't involved in any decisions those old fogeys on Dantooine made about you," he quietly chastised in a paternal tone, clearly disappointed in Penn's ambush of the Master. "He's a decent man — I even heard a rumor you two were friends. Granted, he's a little too polished for my liking, but I suppose any polish seems like too much after spending a few decades with the wookiees. Hmph. Grooming habits aside, he isn't your enemy."

Regardless of Kavar's involvement, the encounter with the Master and Vaklu set Penn on-edge. He responded to Jolee in an uncharacteristically short manner. "That remains to be seen," he said before rapidly shifting course, hoping to learn about the Knight he sensed had something to do with his mysterious past. "Who's Ulic?" When Jolee averted his eyes, Penn pressed. "I saw your reaction, Jolee. I'm not stupid. I know there's something there. Who is he?"

Jolee's lips tightened. "Was. Past tense. Ulic is dead. Has been for a long while, but that's a conversation for another time. We'll discuss this privately. Later. Maybe at a time when you're not acting like a petulant child," he grumbled. "Bah!" The elder turned to rejoin Kavar, undoubtedly to apologize for Penn's unbecoming behavior, gesturing over his shoulder as he did so. "I believe someone has something more to say to you."

His mounting frustration melted the instant he saw Shefali waiting for him in the shadows near the exit. Penn's eyes darted about the chamber as he walked to her, hoping to ensure no one — including Shefali's father — would hear their final conversation as he approached. Deciding he would speak to Jolee about Ulic on the Ebon Hawk, Penn used their waning moments together to focus on Shefali. "You said you had a request for me," he prompted.

Shefali nodded, taking his hands in her own. "I do. But first, you must vow you will heed my instructions."

"Of course," he replied without hesitation, willing to venture to the edges of the galaxy to make amends. "I'll do anything you ask of me."

The request, however, was one Penn could not have anticipated in his wildest dreams; it was the one thing in the universe he was unsure he was capable of. "Forgive yourself."

"Wha-" Perplexed — especially given his history with the person making the request — he shook his head, trying to make sense of this development. "But…"

The Onderonian seemed to understand his confusion and expounded upon her seemingly misguided request. "In the months that lie ahead, I have no doubt there will be countless people and entities determined to tear you apart in order to distract you from your goal. If you are to succeed in your objective and make my husband's sacrifice worthwhile, you cannot join them in tearing yourself apart. You must be whole. So again, on behalf of Nikolaj, the Republic, and myself, I ask you to forgive yourself, just as I have chosen to forgive my husband… and Knight Shan… and you."

Barely believing his ears and the offering of undeserved forgiveness, a glassy-eyed Penn suddenly found himself incapable of meeting her gaze. Breathing deep and swallowing the heated lump in his throat, he looked away, only to have Shefali cup his cheek. "I do not believe our paths will cross again in this life," she sorrowfully predicted. "Regardless of where your journey may take you and what hardships you may face, remember there will always be at least one person in the galaxy who believes in you and your goodness."

Across the chamber, Queen Talia rapped a gavel upon her stone pedestal, marking the impending start of the Council of Lords' convening. Both Shefali and Penn glanced at the tiered seating, knowing the Onderonian needed to bid him adieu in order to fulfill her duties. He continued holding her hand tight, however, and gazed at the woman who had shown him more undeserved grace and kindness than he could have ever asked for. Despite himself, Penn was unsure of how to close this chapter of his story. Shefali, however, knew what to do.

As a final farewell, Shefali leaned close, planting a soft, lingering kiss upon his cheek before looking directly into his eyes. "I will never forget you," she whispered, echoing the affectionate words he uttered to Shefali just before the Selkath's verdict. "Goodbye, Revan…"

Prepared to reclaim her place on the Council, she slid her hand free of his and padded across the expanse, while Penn exited the chamber, contemplating the possibility of forgiving those who had wronged him and himself…

---

Laying flat on her back in her bunk aboard the Ebon Hawk, Mission mindlessly bounced her gyroball against the low-hanging ceiling. "Teethree," she sighed, "I'm bored." The droid beeped and booped in return, earning a scowl from the teen. "Yeah, yeah. I know I should be doing the lessons Jolee lined up for me, but I don't wanna. I'm not really in the mood, y'know?"

Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck the teen; she knew exactly how to take advantage of the rare private time aboard the freighter. "I know!" she exclaimed, swinging into a seated position. "Wanna check out everyone's stuff?" she prompted the droid, her eager brows arched. Her suggestion was met with yet another series of low beeps. "Hey, don't you lecture me about manners and morals," Mission scowled, arms crossed. "You're a droid, remember? Since when do you grow a conscience? Quit your whinin'. C'mon, let's go."

Despite the earlier protest, T3-M4 followed Mission to the cargo hold. The teen narrowed her eyes, resting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the storage units before her. "Hmmm…. Whose cylinder should we open first?" she pondered aloud before deeming one crewmate's belongings safe from her inspection. "I'm not even gonna try Penn's. He's getting better at security; he'll know if I was snooping."

An instant later, Mission made her first selection. Smiling cheekily, she scurried to Juhani's storage container and, within seconds, opened the locked cylinder. She was dismayed to find nothing more than a handful of spare parts for a lightsaber, a stack of neatly-folded clothing, and a datapad. "Anything good on here?" Mission mumbled as she cracked the datapad's all-too-easy encryption and began reading the most recent messages. "Who's 'Belaya'?" she questioned, scrolling through the women's communication. While the majority of the transmissions were downright dull, a few tipped the teen off to the true nature of the women's relationship. "Looks like Juhani's got a girl," she deduced, a hint of surprise in her tone. "Huh…"

Growing disinterested in the women's far-too-tame love notes, Mission advanced to the next cylinder: her newfound mentor, Jolee. The instant she opened the unit, she was met with a wall of musk; the teen recoiled. "P'yew!" she coughed, wildly waving her hand in front of her nose as T3-M4 zoomed to the opposite end of the hold with a dramatic screech. "What is that?!" The droid let out a litany of sharp chirps and desperate guzzles, leading Mission to nod her head and slam the cylinder shut. "You're right, Teethree. No matter what's in there, it ain't worth the stench. His crate stinks like this one time Big Z and me fell into a sewer back on Taris. He reeked for weeks. Wonder how the big guy's doing…"

As she imagined what her wookiee companion and his new life-partner may be up to, she opened Canderous' cylinder. Unlike Jolee's crate, Canderous' unit was relatively odor-free, save for the faint scent of dirt and… spice? Curious as to whether her hunch was right, she stretched her lean arm all the way to the base of the container, pushing aside a handful of dirty holovids whose covers featured busty Twi'leks and naked human women, and drew several jars of unrefined ryll out into the open. During her alliance with the Hidden Beks, Mission had learned all about ryll, a spice from her ancestors' homeworld of Ryloth. Some people — like Gadon and his swoop gang — would convert the ryll into medicine. Whilst others — like Brejik and the Black Vulkars, and Davik and the Exchange — would convert it into illicit street drugs even Griff had the sense to steer clear of.

Mission squinted at the fine white powder before shaking the jar in front of T3-M4's sensor. "Whaddya think: he planning to make this into medicine or drugs?" The droid promptly responded, earning a nod from Mission. "That's what I figured, too." She carefully stowed the jars back in their original resting spots before closing the unit. Then, she moved on to Bastila's cylinder.

Being sure not to soil the item nearest the top, Mission ensured her hands were clean before carefully unpacking a pale lavender gown. Mission was absolutely certain the dress was the most beautiful garment she had ever seen. She grinned as she slipped the flowing gown above her head and onto her shoulders. Although the frock was ill-fitting on her athletic frame, Mission did not care; she giggled, and twirled, and pranced about the cargo hold, having never worn anything remotely like this in her short life.

When the entertainment brought about by imagining fanciful galas and dashing young men had run its course, the Twi'lek continued rummaging through Bastila's personal belongings, digging out the slave-girl costume the Knight sported during their escape from Taris. "Betcha Penn lllllooooooovvvveeessss when Bas whips this sucker out," she drawled with a sneaky wink, rapping her knuckle against one of the metal brassiere's cups before moving to the next treasure. Since Penn permitted Mission to tinker with his lightsaber whenever the crew was out of harm's way on the Ebon Hawk, the spare lightsaber in Bastila's unit was of little interest. Instead, she focused on the pocket-sized portable hologram; she opened the silver device, allowing a cyan image to materialize in her palm.

The hologram displayed a grinning Penn — albeit a younger version — holding an equally-happy brunette woman who was not Bastila in his arms. Bewildered as to why Bastila would be in possession of one of Penn's keepsakes — especially when it contained what she believed to be a picture of him and a past lover — Mission scratched her head as strange details of the holo began to emerge. "Why does Penn have a lightsaber hilt on his belt…?" she mumbled, scrutinizing the image of what she was absolutely certain was a younger version of her friend. "Who's that girl he's holding…? And why does she have a 'saber, too…?" Mission stared closely at the woman, who, unbeknownst to her, was not a former lover of Penn's, but rather Revan's once-close friend, the general-turned-exile Meetra Surik, before making an assertion she felt guilty for voicing. "She's pretty, but she's no Bas," she muttered, feeling territorial of her favorite couple before honing in on the most benign of details. "And when the heck did Penn have his ear pierced?!"

The Twi'lek eyed the oddity for several more minutes before deciding there was nothing more she could glean from the image. Deciding she would figure out a way to broach this strange hologram in Bastila's possession at a later time, Mission plunged her hand deeper into the container, only to jam her fingers on what she instantly knew to be a piece of metal. "Owwww!" she howled, flailing her injured hand before reaching in with far more caution.

To her surprise and added confusion, she retrieved a red, grey, and copper mask artfully wrapped in a black velvet cloth. She had seen several Mandalorian mercenaries who passed the time in Tarisian cantinas wear masks of similar build, but there was something special about this mask. Something vaguely powerful.

She traced her fingertips across the dents and grooves of the mask's otherwise smooth surface. Her hands began to tingle as she flipped the mask.

Brows knit and inexplicable excitement coursing through her veins, Mission pressed the mask against her face, peering through the tinted eye slit. Then, she pulled the mask just far enough away to scan the old blood splatter staining the inner parts of the armor, and rubbed the crude etching at its base.

HER
RAU
CAD

The sound of familiar voices in the near-distance startled Mission. She hurriedly jammed Bastila's belongings back into her cylinder and sealed it as fast as she could before darting into the garage. Before she could announce her presence, she caught sight of Carth and Isabet nearing the exit ramp, each smoothing their hair and adjusting their clothing. Exceedingly curious, she sneaked behind the netted storage area near Penn's swoop bike and watched the exchange between the duo.

"One of these days, we're actually going to have to go through what all the controls are, Izz," Carth said, fiddling with his pant fly. "The others are going to know something's up if you spend all your time in the cockpit 'learning how to fly' but don't know the basics."

Isabet finished zipping her sleeveless jumpsuit and grinned over her shoulder. "I don't know how to tell you this," she began, her voice low and flirtatious, "but I already know how to fly Republic-model ships."

Trying to make sense of this revelation, Carth frowned and rubbed his chin. "But I thought you said…? When Mission locked us in the cockpit right after Kashyyyk, you said you didn't know how to fly the Hawk."

"I may have bent the truth a little," Isabet confessed with a sigh before providing a rare glimpse into her heart. "After everything went to shit in the Shadowlands, I needed someone to blow off steam with. I found you… intriguing and since we bonded a bit when we were on the run, you fit the bill. I thought 'flying lessons' would be… I don't know," she huffed with a roll of her eyes, "a way to spend time with you." The admission elicited a boyish smile from Carth and, unknowingly, an excitable grin from Mission. Isabet scowled. "What?"

"Nothing," he teased. "I just hadn't realized I made such an impression on Kashyyyk, beautiful."

"You didn't. Seeing that magnificent prick of yours right before my cousin was going to burn it to a crisp did," she bluntly replied, wiping the smiles off Mission and Carth's faces and making their jaws drop. "But, once I got to know you, I suppose you did make an impression and I got more than I bargained for. Clearly," she smirked as he rested his hands upon her bare shoulders. "If it makes you feel any better, that's the only thing I've ever lied to you about."

Carth began tenderly running his hands up-and-down her arms. "Unbelievably gorgeous, honest most of the time, and knows how to fly? How'd I get to be the luckiest guy in the galaxy?"

The questioning brought a rare blush to Isabet's cheeks. She desperately tried to bite back a silly grin, the likes of which Mission had never seen from the Mandalorian. "You know… we don't get the Hawk to ourselves all that often," Isabet mused, slowly loosening his jacket's clasps and unknowingly eliciting saucer eyes from Mission. "Maybe we could finally make use of that workbench…"

To Mission's shock and delight, Isabet pressed her lips against Carth's for a sultry kiss, which he eagerly returned. "Whoa, BABY!" she exclaimed, being sure to keep her voice just low enough to go unheard above the incessant humming of the ship's hyperdrive. "You seein' this?!" Mission questioned T3-M4, lightly slapping the droid's head unit to ensure its attention was on the affair at-hand. It was only then Mission realized the implication of Isabet's comment about the nearby workbench; her cheeks and lekku blushed when she realized what she was about to witness. "Uh-oh…" she breathed, her panicked eyes darting between the impassioned couple and the workbench as she contemplated revealing her presence to protect her innocence.

"Izz, Izz," Carth chuckled, grasping her wandering hand and pulling it upward before it could slide beneath his pantline. "We're late enough as it is. If we're going to pick up the new ID for the Hawk, we should head to the cantina now. Your contact's probably already there."

"Mmmm, I doubt it," she mumbled between kisses, her lips tracing from his mouth to his jaw and neck. "Us Caderas aren't exactly known for our punctuality."

Carth jerked just out of Isabet's reach. "Caderas?" he repeated. "Is your contact part of your clan?"

Isabet winced. "Oh… Did I not mention that my contact is my brother?" she ruminated, feigning innocence. "Oops. Must've slipped my mind." Her attempt at yet another kiss was unsuccessful thanks to a suddenly-fidgety Carth stepping backward. Sensing her partners' nerves, Isabet inhaled and rested her hands against his chest, rubbing in a circular motion. "Just be yourself, Republic. He'll love you," she encouraged in a surprisingly soft tone, though Carth's squinted eyes made her revise her statement. "Like you." Still, Carth's expression remained unchanged, prompting Isabet to revise her statement a final time. "Tolerate you."

"That sounds more accurate," he snorted, pulse racing.

"Carth," she gently said, angling his face to look directly into her eyes, "my brothers have loved some of my partners, and they've hated some of them, too. I'd like their approval, but it's not the be all, end all. I'm my own person and I want to be with you. A lot of people aren't going to understand this," she motioned to the space between them, "but they can fuck themselves. Got it?"

Despite the crude terminology, Carth felt a piece of his heart he once believed died alongside his wife begin to swell. "Got it," he warmly echoed, his fear melting.

"Now c'mon," Isabet instructed, clutching his hand as she began walking down the ramp. "I'll fill you in on what to expect along the way."

Mission kept her head low, remaining in her hiding spot until she heard the ship's door suction shut and the lock engage. "Sheesh! That was a close one! But see? I told ya nothing happens on the Hawk without me knowing," she boasted, puffing her chest. "This is juicy stuff, Teethree. I can't wait to tell the guys 'bout this," she declared before second-guessing her decision. "Well… Maybe just Penn and Jolee. I dunno how happy Canderous'll be about Carth and Izzy knockin' boots."

Just before she hopped out of her hiding space, Mission heard the Ebon Hawk's ramp unfurl. Praying she might learn yet another secret about one of her crewmates, she ducked and scooted behind an empty plasteel cylinder in an attempt to keep her presence hidden. Following her lead, T3-M4 scooted behind the netting once more, out of sight.

The heavy plodding's rhythm was unfamiliar to Mission, though she dare not blow her cover. As the number of footsteps traversing the halls continued to multiply, Mission frowned and considered poking her head out to learn which of her crewmates had boarded the ship. The instant one of the voices spoke, however, she thanked the stars she hadn't. "It'sssssss empty, boss," a Trandosian hissed. "The sssssssship is ours."

Wide eyed, Mission lifted her head just enough to see the horned shadow of a Devaronian in the hall. "And they said taking this bucket of bolts was gonna be hard," the Devaronian scoffed before addressing the shadow beside him. "Get this bird off the ground."

Mission considered sprinting for the exit, only to realize her path was blocked by a trio of heavily-armed goons she could never hope to outrun or sneak past. And even if she could escape, she was unwilling to leave T3-M4 to be salvaged for scrap. Gripped by fear, her mouth grew painfully dry as the ship's engines roared to life and the Ebon Hawk began its slow ascent into the atmosphere. "Teethree," she whispered, being sure to keep her voice low and head beneath the invaders' line of sight, "I think we're in trouble…"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hoped this chapter would be 5,000-words or less, but clearly, that was not the case. Hopefully I'll be able to crank out some shorter chapters instead of monsters soon.

Upon going back to play KOTOR for the first time in years — and completing my first-ever male Revan playthrough! — I've decided to revise some of my plans for the Mission / T3-M4 kidnapping plot because a side-quest I forgot about provided inspiration. Between outline revisions and midterms, it may take a bit longer to churn out the next chapter. That said, my hope is to upload the next installment no later than Thanksgiving (late November). If I'm not adhering to that timeline, please nudge me.

As always, any follows, favs, and/or reviews are greatly appreciated! Until next time.