Chapter 3

Surface

Elora and Sunry's flat was within blocks of the Republic Embassy, and there were hardly any Sith to be found - obvious Sith anyway. Selkath workers tended to their business, as did many species who wouldn't feel comfortable with the Sith idea of human chauvinism. An obviously pro-Republic Rhodian ran a general shop with some suspicious-looking goods. Two Ithorians tended to flowerbeds ornamenting another water basin. A human boy played a game of tag with a Twi'lek and a young Duros.

Not a bad place to live, Jolee thought, then dismissed it. It would suit Sunry and Elora fine, but he still had a case of itchy feet and an insatiable appetite for trouble. What was that phrase? "Old enough to know better, young enough to still try it?"

Taking the lift up to their flat, he pressed the buzzer and Elora opened to door. "Come on in, Jolee. Dinner is ready. I hope you don't mind fish."

"My dear, anything you cook is ambrosia, especially after a steady diet from the Kashyyyk Shadowlands and synthetic starship fare." He walked in and had a seat on the couch.

"Elora, who is...?" Even with thinning gray hair, a cane, and the tired lines on his face, he was still recognizable. "Jolee? Jolee Bindo? Where have you been, you old space-dog? Elora told me she was having a surprise over for dinner, but I never expected -" He stopped and laughed. "Damn, old man, you pickle well."

"Ah, the rust-bucket I was steering decided to crash, and I decided to stay. Ever hear of Kashyyyk?"

"Only that Czerka's stock just took a nosedive after something crazy happened there." Sunry laughed. "Some of the Sith are complaining they lost their shirts. Serves them right. And if you were there...did you cause them that trouble? Seems just your style."

"I had...a part in it, but not a large one." To change the subject, he asked Sunry, "I hear you do some work for the Embassy now."

Sunry limped over to the dinner table and sat down. Jolee stood next to him. "It's nothing much, just something to humor the old man. Nothing as exciting as making the Ukatis Run." Seeing a momentary flash of grief pass across Jolee's dark face, Sunry sighed. "Shouldn't mention that, sorry."

"Best and worst of times, my friend. And far enough in the past not to matter to anyone but me." Jolee looked up. "I wonder if Elora could use an extra set of hands."

"I wouldn't bother," Sunry said. "That kind of thing is what she does best, after all."

"Still..." Jolee patted Sunry on the shoulder and ducked into the kitchen. Elora was trying to watch a boiling pot while cutting a large fish into steaks. Some vegetables lay on the counter, some of them partially diced.

"Looks like you could use a hand," Jolee said. "Mind if I wash up and help?"

"Thank you, Jolee," she said. "Those vegetables need cutting up so they can be put in the pot. I'll take care of the fish then."

He nodded and went over to the sink, scrubbing his hands and setting to work with the vegetables. "I can see why you wouldn't want Sunry to be doing this. It doesn't look as though time has softened the blow any."

"Oh, yes...that. Well, I suppose not. You saw how his hands shake. It would be hard for him to use that knife."

Jolee went to work chopping the largest of the vegetables - gourd-shaped with soft pulp inside. Elora continued to prepare the fish, setting it to bake before she took another knife and started to chop.

"I've...I've missed you, Jolee," she admitted. "I've thought about you quite a bit lately, and all of a sudden you just show up from nowhere. It's as if the Force brought you."

He harrumphed. "Maybe it did, and maybe it didn't. I just knew when to leave where I was and resume my journey."

"Have the years been good to you, then? Have you found what you were looking for?"

"No," he answered truthfully. "Lived alone in the middle of nowhere. It felt good, though. I was living simply, helping out the locals when I could. Not much else to tell other than that."

She smiled tiredly. "I'm glad you were able to find some peace, Jolee. It's just been far too long since..." She changed direction. "How long will you be staying here? On Manaan, I mean?"

Jolee shrugged. "I'm not on my own ship this time. Just traveling with some new friends. It's up to them how long I stay."

Elora turned away and checked the fish. "At least you're here, that's the important part. Thank you for coming."

The dinner was a lively combination of old memories and catching-up, seasoned liberally with bawdy jokes. Jolee told them of what happened on Kashyyyk, and a little about the crew he was now traveling with, even though he said nothing about the mission they were on. Elora got up to go to a cabinet in the corner and put several pills in a small cup, setting it next to Sunry. He took the cup and downed the contents, barely pausing in his conversation with Jolee to do so.

"So, anyway, I tell the snot-nosed fellow where he can put those papers, and flash my Hero's Cross at him."

Jolee leaned back in his chair, his sides aching from the fourth...or was that fifth...good belly laugh he had. "I notice you don't wear that medal now."

"I can't seem to find it. I think it was misplaced when Elora and I moved here several months ago. I'll find it eventually."

"Elora," Jolee asked. "You've been silent, my dear."

"I don't have anything useful to say, that's all," she said. "The two of you have lived adventurous lives. I've always been just a plain farm girl, or the one waiting at home while the two of you got in trouble."

"Elora, you have the patience of a Jedi Master to put up with us naughty boys, enough courage for an army, and the cooking skills of a gourmet chef. There isn't anything plain about you," Jolee said.

Elora blushed and continued to eat her dinner. Then, the comlink in the back room sounded. Sunry took his cane and got up from his chair. "That's probably for me."

"Sunry," Elora asked. "Do you have to? We have a guest over, and..."

He glanced sharply at her. "I've my business, and it's not yours. Now, excuse me." Vanishing into the back room, Jolee started to get up and go after him, but Elora shook her head.

"It's...it's probably just the Embassy," she said. Jolee sensed a strange dread from her. Was she lying? Damn it, it had been too long since he had read other humans, aside from the Hawk's crew. "I don't want to have to ask you to leave, Jolee, but..."

"It's all right," he said. "Need any help with the dishes?"

"No," she said. "I'll be...I'll be fine."

Now, he was certain she was lying, but wasn't about to push the issue - not now at least. "I've given you my com-link signal. Give me a call in the morning, or if you need to talk."

"I will, and thank you, Jolee."

When he got back, the crew was in the common room, comparing notes.

"The ocean floor has a lot of uncharted areas, even by the native Selkath. We've narrowed it down to about five areas where the Star Map would be, most likely," said Juhani. "All of them have geological abnormalities indicating what could be blaster damage, or similar."

Kairi elaborated, bringing up a map of Manaan and highlighting the areas, pointing at them in turn. "The Dorias Trench, the Hrakert Rift, the underwater mountain of Craagar, Ulence Flats, and Pogas Ridge."

Bastila folded her arms. "I see, and did the archives have anything about these places? Expeditions, archeological digs, recent colonization attempts?"

"The trench has currents going up to two-hundred kilometers an hour. That would make any research nearly impossible. The mountain is a constantly active volcano. There have been some digs on the Flats, though, and a mining installation the Selkath have put on the ridge," Kairi said.

"And the rift?" asked Carth.

Juhani shook her head. "There is not much data. The Selkath refuse to build there, and the waters are infested with firaxan sharks - large and easily angered undersea predators. If there is something there, it would be difficult to obtain it."

"Difficult?" Mission said, sprawled upside-down on the sensor chair. "Sounds like we have a winner. Those maps always seem to be on the hardest spot to get to."

"Don't make assumptions, Mission," Jolee warned. "And unless this bucket can pass for a sub, we're going to need assistance in getting down there."

"I suppose we could ask the Republic embassy for assistance," commented Carth. "As well as trying to figure out what they're up to. Something is going on there, something strange."

Canderous put the datapad on the table. "They're on the hunt for mercs, and offering an obscene amount. The rumor mills confirm that none of them are coming back from it, either."

"Well, Mission and I saw a mercenary when we were out today. He seemed to lure a Selkath youth into going with him. Could the Republic be recruiting them?" Zaalbar was certainly curious.

"It certainly doesn't sound like something the Republic would do," Carth said. "But considering their run on the mercenary population, I can't be completely sure. Besides, the Sith are pretty heavy on recruiting, too."

"I would guess our best bet would be to approach the Republic embassy early tomorrow morning," Bastila said. "Perhaps more answers lie there."

"I hope so," Kairi said, turning off the map.

As the rest of the crew left the main room, going back to quarters or out into Ahto City for supplies or amusement, Kairi sighed and turned off the map, too tired for the moment to do anything but slump on the nearest sofa.

Without being fully aware she did it, she pulled her lightsaber from her belt and studied it. The symbol of a Jedi's authority and dedication, she remembered Zhar telling her. Though it was made of the lightest alloys and delicate crystal, it felt like a stone in her hand.

There is no emotion...for me there will always be emotion.

The crew of the Ebon Hawk was a great comfort to her and an equal source of guilt. Jolee had fit right in, adding another voice to the constant song in her mind. What would silence be like? After this was over, could she willingly walk back to the Council and never see them again?

The thought made her eyes sting and her chest ache. Two maps...she would have maybe a couple months more before all she knew was torn away from her again, as surely as the plasma bolt. This was going to be worse. She awoke with a blank mind, but she wasn't alone. Force bless Carth – he said he did not trust, but he did trust her. He said he was no longer a good man, but just the thought of him made her feel safe.

Their time together was running out, and there was so much she wanted to say to him, so many things she wanted to do. She wondered if he wanted them as much as she did. The emotions were there, but so was his grief. And even if she could ask, even if he wished for it – it never could happen.

For a picosecond, she wanted to smash that damn lightsaber. Instead, it fell from her fingers, clattering on the deck. Burying her head in her hands, she cried away the last of her strength, falling asleep on the sofa.

The next day the crew showed their colors – literally in some regards. Carth found his fatigues and officer's rank pin – the closest thing he had to a Republic uniform. The Jedi opted for traditional robes. Kairi secured her hair into a bun with two hair sticks securing it. Of course, since Canderous had made them from scrap metal, they were also balanced and sharpened to be throwing knifes.

She was inspecting her appearance in a polished plastic panel that was the closest they had to a full-length mirror. Far from projecting the "humble" status they were intended to signify, Jedi robes felt overly formal to her. Bastila complained endlessly about this, of course. Kairi still preferred clothing that made her look like an ordinary civilian or spacer, with the lightsaber (often tucked beneath a vest or jacket) being the only indication to her status. How was it she found something as simple was wearing robes difficult?

Do you mock the traditions of our order? Belaya's question came to the fore. Kairi shook her head. Was she trying to hide her chosen path? Was she, on some level, rejecting the Order she vowed to serve? Did she even think of herself as a Jedi, really? When she accepted this path, she thought it would be the best way to serve the Force's will. After all, if the Force had crafted her with such an acute ability to feel another's pain, coupled with the ability to be an active part in relieving pain, it would be a crime to turn away. A Zeltron proverb came to mind: The first to cause pain is the next to feel it. The first to comfort another will be next comforted. Zeltron philosophy was...interesting...but seeing as the entire race was empathic, Kairi definitely comprehended the wisdom in it.

"It is quite the relief to see you look like your station for a change," Bastila walked up next to her and started to straighten her robes.

Kairi said nothing, studying her boots.

"Kairi, I wonder why you so often resist attempting to even look like a Jedi. It would make me wonder if you are ashamed of it."

Kairi shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just not that comfortable, that's all. I almost feel...well, I feel like they don't fit me."

"The cut is correct for your height and build, Kairi."

"No, that's not it." Kairi sighed and thought before speaking. "I... I know you try to hide your feelings about me – your disappointment, and even well-hidden disgust and loathing." Her voice conveyed more frustration than she wanted. "Bastila, the Council made a mistake with me, a horrible mistake. We both know it."

Was Bastila afraid? Kairi couldn't quite tell. In any case, it was certainly only a moment before the Jedi calm snapped back on. "I'm afraid that I've overstepped a bit myself. Here I am supposed to guide you, and I've done such a poor job of it, pushing away when you need guidance the most."

Kairi couldn't hide the disappointment, but brushed off her robes. Peace, there is peace. It's asking too much of Bastila to see me as anything but a burden the Council saddled her with. "It saddens me to know what you think of me, but I accept it."

"No, Kairi..." Bastila shook her head. "Actually, I might be the one in need of making an apology. There are times when I wonder if this is a way for the Council to test my abilities, to see how I could guide you. I seem to have not done very well at it."

Kairi only nodded.

"But, it is not for the reason you think," Bastila informed her. "As I said, I had wondered if they were testing me to see if I was ready to become a Knight, or a Master, but then I realized how foolish that idea was. The Council wouldn't be so reckless as to test me this way."

"And when this is over? Once the maps are found?" Kairi asked. "What will become of me?"

"That is for the Council to determine, I guess," Bastila admitted. "But the crew will go their separate ways, I imagine."

"Just as I thought," Kairi said. And dread.

"Wish I could come with you, Zaalbar," Mission said, trying not to look as disappointed as she felt.

"I know, but I would suppose that I am the ambassador for my planet now. How strange. Their protocol droid speaks my language, at least, so I should be fine. I will tell you all the details when I return. How is that?"

"Man, wrapping my brain around that's gonna take some work. You sure you're gonna be fine?"

"As fine as I can be, Mission." He stepped back. "How do I look?"

Mission had finally convinced him to wash and comb out his fur – a task easier said then done. His gold-brown fur practically gleamed with a little help from Kairi's shampoo. Zaalbar only accepted the temporary affront because he was going out to speak with humans and to try and put a dignified face forward.

"Every inch a prince, Big Z. Knock 'em dead."

"Knock them? Mission, I'm not going into battle."

"Slang term, Zaalbar. Means 'impress them,' strut your stuff' that sort of thing."

"Oh, right. Then I definitely will do that. Thanks!"

Bastila, Juhani, and Carth walked fastest. Kairi tarried behind. Zaalbar noticed this. Her eyes were a little duller and while she attempted to project calm, sadness still leaked through. He hung back from the rest and walked by Kairi. She noticed this and stroked the fur at his back.

"I know I should not say this, Zaalbar, but you look...well, you look very regal."

"I am not certain what will happen. When I contacted the Embassy, they requested that I meet with the senior diplomat alone. A protocol droid will translate my speech for him, but this is all so new to me, and I worry about making a mistake. What is your advice? You always seem so wise."

Kairi smiled sadly. "I only seem that way. Bastila can follow the Codes and be the perfect Jedi. Next to her, I feel drab...and foolish." Zaalbar let her talk. "The Masters always let me know that they expect me to follow her example. They praised her as being the finest example of a Padawan. I was...well, I still am...a poor example, it would seem."

"I do not understand."

"She can follow the Light on the basis of a Code. The only thing that stayed my hand on Kashyyyk was the thought that I would get you and Juhani hurt if I acted rashly – not because I'm a Jedi. And if you were hurt, could I resist anger and fear?" She sighed. "When I act, I think of those around me, not the words of my Masters."

Zaalbar thought of this and let out a small noise of acknowledgment. "I cannot know the Jedi. I know of my people. You are a bad Jedi, maybe, but you, Jolee, and Mission make fine Wookiees despite being so bald."

Kairi smiled. "Thank you, Zaalbar."

Ahead of them were a young human couple carring a small infant – not more than a month old. They were dressed in the battered coveralls of ordinary working-folk Bastila walked by them too quickly, but Kairi's slower pace granted the father an opportunity. He approached her shyly and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Lady Jedi, can you bless our child?" he asked.

So many just wanted to touch them...some thought it would bring them luck. Juhani's description of the Tarisian oppressed when Revan's army came through. She could sense the parents' eagerness and hope as they held out the tiny bundle to her.

She took the child from them, cradling it in her arms. The open, curious mind of the infant warmed her heart. Shifting, so that the child was in the crook of one arm, Kairi stroked the short, fine hair of the baby and smiled.

"May the Force be with you, youngling"

The parents let out a sigh of relief as Kairi handed back the child.

When Carth stopped to check if Kairi and Zaalbar were still following, he saw her rocking the baby in her arms, and the combination of weariness and relief in the eyes of the parents. He tried to keep his own emotions under a lid. There was a time when he was just like that young father, standing with Morgana. There was once a time when Dustil was so small, his head could fit in the palm of Carth's hand...so long ago...such a lifetime ago. He and Morgana wanted a large family, but there never was the time for it, or something was in the way. A war, a tour of duty. He did it all for them, he rationalized, to keep them safe.

What a joke.

Another part of his mind looked at Kairi cradling the baby and had different desires altogether. What kind of a mother would she make? Did she want the chance at it? If things on the Spire had gone smooth, what kind of a future would she have? Would she be inclined to find a decent guy, start a family? Somehow, he could picture her with several kids at her feet.

And are you picturing yourself as the sire of that brood, Commander?

He whipped around the see Bastila a short distance away, one delicate eyebrow arched and arms folded.

Kairi had handed the child back and shook hands with the parents, striking up a brief conversation.

Carth used the opportunity to confront Bastila. "Y'know, Bastila, some people aren't comfortable with the idea of other people intruding in their head."

She was genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Back there, Kairi and the kid. And for your information, the answer's 'no.' She's a Jedi now, and even if she were to go off and have a family - and I know it's not exactly forbidden, by the way - I certainly would not want her saddled with a broken-down failure like myself. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Carth, are you daft? I never said anything to you, even if I think you're protesting too much."

"Maybe not aloud, but I heard you, all right." He tapped his temple with his finger.

Bastila shook her head like trying to knock something loose. "Carth, there is no way you could have heard my thoughts, even if I was attempting to project to you. You'd have to be at the very least..." She shook her head again. "Never mind, the Embassy should be close."

It was easy enough to find. A tall spire with doors guarded by Republic soldiers, and festooned with banners bearing the Republic seal. The guard at the door was a fresh-faced midshipman who took his job very seriously, taking retinal scans of all of them and inspecting Carth's ID for any indications of tampering or counterfeit. Bastila's name-dropping of the Jedi Council and the presence of their lightsabers prompted the young guard to call directly to the office of the head diplomat and usher them to his office.

The Head Diplomat for the Manaan Republic Embassy was Roland Wann, a thin, dark human who had been prematurely aged by the job and had all the unfortunate glibness of a career politician. He inspected the four Jedi and Republic officer carefully. "Welcome to the Republic Embassy. As the official representative to this planet, I am here to help all citizens of the Republic should they require aid. If you've come seeking information on Ahto City itself, I regret that there is little I can tell you that is not in the visitor's guide. My duties rarely permit me to venture beyond the wall of the Republic Embassy." He steepled his fingers as he looked at them. "Remember, within the city itself, the Selkath have absolute authority. They're a tough race, but fair. Obey the Selkath laws, keep the peace, and you should encounter no problems."

"Actually, we're here on a mission from the Jedi Council, perhaps you can help us with it," Bastila said.

His face was still a politician's mask, but he was nervous for a moment. "Oh, of course, of course. I will do whatever I can, but I'm only a diplomatic representative of the Republic I doubt I can be of any use to the Jedi Council."

"Perhaps you can," Kairi said. "We seek a Star Map, an artifact of an ancient and forgotten race. We...we've heard rumors that it may be on Manaan."

Wann stroked his chin, speaking slowly and trying to hide his reactions. Kairi could still sense some nervousness. "An ancient and forgotten race, and you think it might be here on Manaan. Hmmm..."

"You know something," Kairi said plainly. "Can you tell us, please?"

"Well, perhaps. But if you want to get information about that, you'll have to do something for me first."

Bastila scowled. "We are not mercenaries, Mr. Wann."

Kairi held up her hand. "We may be able to render assistance. What is it that you need?"

"We were using a submersible reconnaissance droid in the ocean surrounding Ahto City, and it was damaged," he replied. "It took a data recording of the outside of the city before the firaxan sharks drove it off. But while it was returning to the surface, it encountered difficulties and was disabled. Its automatic systems floated it to the surface but we couldn't retrieve it in time. The Sith were applying subtle pressure to the Selkath government for reasons we haven't determined and were able to delay us long enough that they were able to retrieve the droid before we did. That was 12 hours ago."

"I see," said Juhani. "So time would be of the essence."

"The droid's data centers are heavily encrypted, so it will take the Sith several days, we believe, to retrieve the data. It's imperative that we get it back!"

"Where do you believe the Sith have hidden it?" Kairi asked. "And I'm assuming it is under heavy guard."

"It is in the Sith Embassy here on Manaan, we are certain. Since we've no remaining soldiers to spare, and certainly not our elite ones, we have no one capable of entering the Sith base to retrieve it. This is what we'd ask you to do."

"Is that why your recruiters have been going after the mercenary population here?" Carth asked, handing over the contract. Wann read it and returned it to him. Kairi watched Wann, and it was like he was pulling on armor. There was a vague feeling that he felt under attack somehow. Did they stumble on something they were not supposed to know – even being Republic operatives?

"There is a war going on, as you well know, Commander. And the Sith are also recruiting. We must be competitive in order to gain the edge against them."

Carth's eyes narrowed, but he kept most of his reaction pulled in.

"We can't just...just break in," Bastila protested. "It would cause a massive diplomatic incident. Such an act would not go unnoticed by either the Sith or the Selkath."

"But, if the Sith are able to use that droid to their advantage, Bastila, imagine the further harm they will do with it," Juhani reminded her. "Republic access codes, droid protocols...it will put many lives at risk."

Kairi looked inward as she no doubt turned the possibilities over in her mind. "Bastila does have a point. We will have to do this carefully. Barging in will only cause us all trouble, but perhaps there is a way we can sneak in through the front door."

"Sneaking in through the front doors? Bold, but I suppose it would be to our advantage if subtlety were employed." Wann opened his desk drawer and took out a datapad. "There are several leads we've been working on to get into the Sith base..."

Back on the Hawk, Jolee was two hands down at Pazaak, but was more than glad for the company.

"Adventuring days?" Mission teased. "What kind of adventures were you having?"

"Did I say that? Strange the tricks your memory plays on you when you get older."

"Uh-uh. You're not going to pull the 'senile' routine with me, grandpa."

"I'm not here to satisfy your curiosity. No staring at the old man, that's what the sign says, damn it! And besides, you don't really want to hear about me. We're talking ancient history. History bores kids. Proven fact."

"Well, old people love to talk about history. Proven fact," Mission taunted back. "So, you gonna talk or not?"

"Oh, fine. Have it your way. Just don't cry about it later," he said with a large amount of affected grumpiness. "Yes, yes. I was an adventurer. Happy now? I wasn't even finished with my Jedi training back then. I had a full head of hair and an eagerness to see absolutely everything. Sound familiar?"

Mission rubbed her head. "'Cept for the hair part. How young we talking?"

"Let's just say Courscant was a small town with a well," he joked. "I was never what you'd call a good example of a Jedi, you know. The Council was never very happy with willful, brash Jolee Bindo, you see. Even less so when I began my smuggling career."

Mission stopped dealing the cards. "Smuggling career? Yeah, right."

"Don't look at me like that, damn it! I wasn't always the wrinkled coot I am now, you know. I can still fight, too, so wipe off that smirk I see there." He grinned. "Besides, I see it in your eyes, you've probably thought of that career path yourself! Now, at the time, the Ukatis system was being interdicted by its own king. He preferred to keep his people starving and poor, all the better to oppress them."

"Sounds familiar," Mission grumbled. "Anyone want to do something about it?"

"The Senate was trying to negotiate a peace, but they were getting nowhere as usual. I decided I wasn't going to wait. I found myself a ship and a partner, and we began smuggling food and supplies to the Ukatis citizenry through the blockade. I was a half-decent pilot in those days, and with the Force guiding me, we made it through some tough spots nobody else would have..."

"Wow. Never thought a Jedi would turn smuggler."

"Pilot, smuggler...several other things, too. Or did you suppose I was always a crotchety hermit?"

"Not with an attitude like yours." She thought it over. "Then again, Kairi would do it if she thought it would do more good than harm. Carth wouldn't admit it, but he'd take her up on that idea, too. And Big Z and I would be right behind 'em."

"Somehow, I can't disagree with you."

"How did you afford the supplies? That stuff doesn't run cheap, and it wasn't like you were smuggling spice."

"Well, we didn't buy the equipment per se. Some were happy to donate goods." A wicked grin crossed his face. "Some we just...ah...knew had more than they could use."

"So, you stole it?"

"'Stole' is such a harsh word. They would have donated those goods readily enough if they were compassionate. I considered it a tax on the greedy."

Mission bent over laughing. "That's GREAT! You're as bad as Gandon Thek! I don't suppose you got busted, either."

"Well, I did get caught once. A lone Ukatish frigate shot me down and forced a crash landing. I thought the Force abandoned me, as I remember." He shrugged and put down another card from his side deck. "As it happened, getting shot down turned out to be very fortunate. That was the day I..." He clammed up, taking a long, tired breath as he studied the cards.

"What?"

"Well, that...that was the day I met my wife."

"You got married?"

"You know another way to get a wife?"

"No, just...Well, I just hear Bastila talking all the time about how having friends and stuff is bad for a Jedi. That it somehow turns them bad." Mission scowled. "She comes down awfully hard on Kairi for it, and I don't understand. Kairi is the kindest, bravest person I've ever met!"

"A little too simplistic, but there is a bit of truth in it. What do you think would happen if say...you died, or Carth died? Do you think Kairi would still be so brave and kind?"

"I...I don't know. I guess..."

Jolee picked up the deck and started to shuffle the cards. "That's just the thing, you don't know. No one can. The Council believes that by making sure an initiate has no ties, no loyalties other than that of the Order, that they will have no reason to betray it. The Order is mother and father, friend and lover. No ties, no passion. No passion, no Dark Side."

Mission put down her cards. "But wait...isn't that getting really close to the Sith idea that power is the only thing that matters? That other people slow you down, and you've got to control everything around you so that no one gets the idea to argue with you?" She shook her head. "Ok, I'm talking through my headband – only thing I really know about the Sith are what I've seen of 'em and what I can crib together from Bastila's preaching."

"Actually..." Jolee had his eyebrows raised. "You certainly like to think, don't you?"

"Griff complained I thought too much, and he thinks too little. We kinda even out, I guess. There's a lot I don't understand, Jolee, and I don't want to come off as a stupid kid."

"Believe me, Mission, that's the last thing I'd call you."

T3-M4 rolled up and started chirping at them. Mission looked up from her game. "What's the matter, Tee-Three?"

A series of warbling musical notes followed. Mission got to her feet. "A bunch of Selkath guys outside, and they wanna talk to Jolee? Well, I hope you told HK-47 not to start a barbeque."

Another set of higher-pitched chirps almost like a whistle. "Well, that's good. C'mon. We'll go see what they want."

They lowered the docking ramp, and Jolee went first. Mission, Zaalbar, and T3-M4 right behind. There were two Selkath there, along with three security droids. The Selkath sported the crisp green uniforms and gold-green seal of the constabulary. The taller of the two carried a datapad. "Are you Jolee Bindo?" he asked.

"Well, last I checked, yes."

"We will need to ask questions about an associate of yours – Sunry Gensbrem."

"Look, if he's gotten himself in trouble with parking violations or something..."

The smaller one put her hands behind her back. "We saw from entry and exit logs you were a guest at the household last night. We need only to take your statement."

"Statement? What in the –"

That's when the taller Selkath dropped the bombshell. "Mr. Bindo, this is a serious matter. Mr. Gensbrem is in Ahto City Prison, being charged with a murder committed last night."