Chapter One – Bitter Reunions
Coruscant: Two Years Later
Padawan Dustil Onasi sat at a table in the large reception hall, trying not to fidget in his long brown dress robes. It was difficult to stay still, since the wool itched and the high collar chafed his skin. Sighing, he resigned himself to at least an hour of boring speeches that were due to start at any minute, as soon as dinner was served by the bustling serving droids. While he waited, Dustil studied the dinner guests, his fingers longing for his sketchpad. This being a Republic state dinner where the guests were Senators, high-ranking military officers and members of the Jedi Order, the people watching made for a very interesting way to pass the time.
Fine china clinked softly as small talk buzzed throughout the room. Brown and ivory Jedi robes mixed with the Fleet's orange, yellow and black uniforms. Senators and their staffs stood out in their multi-colored finery from the plain robes of the Jedi and the dour military uniforms, like pretty, colorful songbirds among hawks and sleek predators.
But even with all of the interesting, important and influential people to observe, there was one person who kept drawing his attention, no matter how much he tried to ignore her. She sat at a table near the front of the hall, in between Master Vrook and Canderous Ordo.
Revan.
Dustil struggled to control the powerful mixture of emotions that he felt when he saw her; hatred and rage mixed with a strange sense of guilt that he did not understand, followed by intense curiosity. Since he'd first met her on Korriban, he'd only seen her a handful of times.
Revan and Jedi Knight Bastila Shan had spent most of the last two years since the fall of the Star Forge at Admiral Dodonna's side in the Republic Fleet, using the deadly combination of Bastila's battle meditation and Min's tactical knowledge to mop up the remnants of the Sith war machine. However, he'd seen her more frequently now that she'd been returned to the custody of the Jedi Council. It was strange, passing her in the hallway and seeing her in the training rooms, as though she were just another Jedi Knight, and not the woman responsible for tearing his life apart.
Noticing the empty chair at Revan's table, he wondered where Jedi Shan was. His cheeks began to heat as his thoughts turned to the young Jedi Knight, and he wondered if the rumors about Jedi Shan and his father were true.
Master Jolee Bindo pinned him with a wry look, as though he knew exactly what was going on in Dustil's mind. Dustil had learned the hard way that Jolee was downright crafty, and Dustil didn't doubt that the old man probably did know what was going on in his head. He wondered if Jolee was going to make some cryptic and irritating remark, or come up with one of his infamous stories.
But Jolee remained silent, frowning slightly as his intelligent eyes swept over the padawans sitting at his table: Dustil, Kel and Mekel, all three who'd been "rescued" by Revan and the crew of the now legendary Ebon Hawk from the Sith Academy on Korriban. Dustil had hoped that the Council would assign Jolee as his Jedi Master, but instead the Council put him under the instruction of Jedi Master Zhar. Although he'd been disappointed, he was happy that it was Master Zhar, and not one of the stricter members of the Order.
In the end, Dustil was happy with the choice, since Zhar was an excellent teacher. Patient, intelligent and kind, he was everything that his former Sith Masters said was weak. After nearly two years under Master Zhar's guidance, Dustil was only just beginning to see how very wrong the Sith were.
Master Quatra, a tall female Zabrak, Jedi Knight Belaya and Master Zhar were deep in conversation on the other side of the table, and Dustil couldn't make out what they were saying. His friends, Kel and Mekel, were busy checking out women.
Dustil's attention was captured by the slight commotion from the doorway behind him. He didn't have to turn around to see who it was, because he could sense his father's strong, steady and unmistakable presence in the Force. Carth's powerful strides ate up the distance between Dustil's table and the door quickly, and Dustil watched as people stopped talking and stared in awe and admiration as his father approached. Dustil fought to keep the sneer off his face and the roll out of his eyes when several nearby ladies practically swooned.
Dustil had heard that his father's flagship had been delayed in its return from Kuat, and he'd hoped that Carth wouldn't be able to make it tonight. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case.
Ignoring the commotion he'd caused, Carth flashed his son a tired smile, and took the seat in between Dustil and Jolee that Kel had vacated in some errant, misguided effort to be nice. While Kel settled into the empty seat that was to be occupied by Juhani when she arrived, Dustil cursed his friend's niceness that forced him to deal with his father.
Before Carth could speak, one of the High Admiral's aides, a young lieutenant not much older than Dustil, appeared. "Admiral Onasi, High Admiral Dodonna requests that you take your place at the head table."
His father favored the aide with a tight smile. "Tell High Admiral Dodonna that I respectfully decline," his father said, in a rather disrespectful voice that caught Dustil completely off-guard. "I'm going to sit with my son tonight."
The aide looked like he'd rather be shot than return to Dodonna with that information. But Carth just stared at him in ruthless silence, until the lieutenant saluted and strode off reluctantly to the long table at the front of the hall where Carth was supposed to be seated.
"Um, maybe you'd better go, Dad," Dustil said, hoping that duty would win out and his father would leave. "Besides, where's Juhani going to sit?"
Unfortunately, Jolee interfered. "Don't be a half-wit. Juhani won't mind, unlike Admiral Dodonna." The three men watched as the nervous lieutenant returned to the head table, leaned over the High Admiral's shoulder and delivered the news. High Admiral Dodonna's lips thinned as she shot Carth a highly exasperated look. She waved an irritated hand at the lieutenant, dismissing him.
Jolee chuckled softly as he offered Carth his hand. "Making waves, kid?"
Dustil shook his head, amused by Jolee's audacity. By the look on his face, Dustil could tell that his father was equally entertained. Only Jolee would call a forty-year-old Fleet Admiral, 'kid.' Carth shook Jolee's hand, grinning at the old Jedi. "Something like that."
"Do you think she'll order you to the high table?" Jolee asked, as he glanced not-so-subtly over at the High Admiral.
"She can't." At Jolee's raised eyebrows, Carth offered an explanation. "My resignation from the Fleet is effective today."
Dustil looked at his father in shock. "You resigned? Why?" He never thought he'd see the day his father resigned from the military. Bitter resentment nearly choked him.
About six years too late, Father!
Dustil ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that his father had offered to resign two years ago, if Dustil had wished it.
"Since the Sith retreated back to their sector, I've been doing nothing but endless administrative work. I'm tired of attending endless parties, diplomatic missions, Senate committees." Carth looked across the room and his jaw settled into a hard, implacable line as his brown eyes blazed in anger. The words were bit out harshly, "I'm just...done."
Dustil's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He followed his father's gaze across the room and was unsurprised to see that it had landed on Revan. The emotions coming off of his father were tangled, powerful and overwhelming. Dustil slammed his mental shields up, not really wanting to know what they were.
He knew that the two of them had been lovers; his father had been honest about that from the start, when they had met up again on Coruscant two years ago. It was something he should have guessed, given the way the two had acted around each other after their escape from Korriban. Dustil had felt like an idiot, since his father's feelings were so amazingly transparent, but he'd been too focused on being jealous of Mission at the time. That and he'd mistakenly believed that Revan and Jedi Shan were lovers. It was Mekel and Kel who'd pointed out the obvious on their trip to Coruscant, but he hadn't truly believed it until he'd met up with his father again. Finding out that Min Avery was really Revan added to his already considerable anger with Carth.
What he didn't know was what the hell had happened between his father and Revan shortly after the military had returned her to Coruscant to stand trial, but ultimately, he really didn't care. In the end, the argument was moot, since they weren't together and hadn't been for nearly two years. It was what made his father's presence in his life palatable; he wouldn't have been able to stand it if Revan had come as part of the package. The only reason he even tolerated his father was because he knew that his mother would have wanted them to get along, but it had been a long and rocky road. It looked like it was about to get rockier.
Right, Dad. I'm sure it's got nothing to do with her. You resign from the Fleet just weeks after she's transferred back to the custody of the Jedi Order.
It pissed him off to no end that his father would resign for that bitch, when he hadn't done it for his mother. Dustil half-heartedly recited the Jedi Code in his mind, trying to keep his emotions in check. Although he really didn't want to, he kept silent, knowing that this was neither the time nor place for this argument to happen.
Tearing his gaze away from Revan, his father changed the subject, and Carth's features smoothed out as he tried to rein in his temper. Still, his father's anger at the Jedi was a surprise, and Dustil wondered if he might be mistaken as he considered the rumors about his father and Jedi Shan. He wasn't sure which idea made him more upset, the idea of his father with Revan, or the idea of his father with Bastila.
But if they were true, he would have told me, wouldn't he?
Carth turned his attention back to Dustil. "They've offered me an instructor's position at the new Fleet Academy. I haven't decided if I'm going to take it." As Dustil digested this news, his father changed the subject again and asked, "So, is my speeder still in one piece?" Other than the Ebon Hawk, his father's only other major possession was a brand-new, wicked black K-191 speeder, which Dustil was allowed to use whenever his father was off planet.
Caving in to the completely juvenile need to push his father's buttons, Dustil grinned evilly. "Mostly. We drove it here tonight."
Carth returned the evil grin with a wry look. "'Mostly'? What do you mean, mostly?"
Ignoring the kick from under the table that came from Mekel's direction, Dustil answered, "You might want to replace the grav-brakes."
Instead of angering his father like Dustil had intended, his father actually chuckled. "Really? And why would I need to do that?"
"Because we took it racing last night." And the three of them had nearly gotten killed, as the high-performance speeder had spun out of control as Dustil had tried cornering it too fast. Only the liberal use of the grav-brakes and Dustil's abilities with the Force had prevented him from becoming a smear on the side of one of Coruscant's kilometer-tall buildings. Dustil decided judiciously not to mention that part of the story.
Before his father could say anything, Master Quatra, whom Dustil had completely forgotten about, spoke, disapproval ringing in her precise, careful tone as she turned to Master Zhar. "You allow your padawans to race speeders in their free time?"
Kel and Mekel shot Dustil a pair of murderous looks, and Dustil knew that he was going to get some serious grief later from the two of them.
One of Master Zhar's lekku flicked in a gesture that Dustil interpreted as astonishment, although both Zhar's face and tone were outwardly bland. "You went racing last night?"
Dustil tried his best to look repentant, realizing that his desire to irk his father had not only failed, but had backfired, since he'd forgotten his Master was sitting right there. His cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Um... yes."
Master Zhar turned his intense gaze on the three young men. "Mmm," was all he said, but Dustil began to squirm and fidget in embarrassment.
Jolee turned to Carth. "I'm wondering why a Fleet Admiral feels the need to own a hot rod speeder in the first place. Suffering from a mid-life crisis, are we?"
Carth chuckled, looking far from offended, and had opened his mouth to retort when Master Quatra's harsh voice cut across the table, startling everyone with her vehemence. "Truly, Zhar, you give your padawans far too much freedom." Her eyes darted over to where Revan was seated, her lips thinning. "We all know where this type of behavior leads."
I don't believe it! She's comparing me to Revan!
Amazingly, his father leapt to his defense, and Dustil was torn between gratitude and annoyance. "Are you saying that my son is in danger of falling to the dark side because he and his friends went for a little joyride?" Although Master Quatra had schooled her features to change disapproval to Jedi serenity, Dustil could feel the atmosphere around the table go from friendly to frosty at his father's next statement. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
Silently, Dustil agreed with his father. Jolee wasn't so silent in his agreement. "Don't you think you're overreacting just a tad, Quatra?"
If by 'tad', you mean completely. Dustil kept that thought to himself, grateful that the intense, harsh Zabrak was not his master.
"No, I do not," she stated firmly and unequivocally, her tattooed face betraying her annoyance at Jolee's disagreement. "Revan constantly indulged in this type of rule-breaking behavior when she was a padawan, and we can see what happened to her."
"Yeah." Contempt dripped from Carth's voice. "She saved the Republic. Three times." Carth shook his head, disgust written across his features. "She had the guts to break the rules and go against the Order to help us fight the Mandalorians."
"Yes, but she also became a Dark Lord of the Sith," Quatra sniped, stating the obvious. "While it may seem harmless to you, small instances of undisciplined behavior, if unchecked, will lead to larger and larger liberties." She turned to Zhar and forced her point home, "If you and Vrook had disciplined her more and not allowed her to run free, it is possible that her fall to the dark side wouldn't have happened."
"We don't know that," Jolee interjected, brows furrowed in disapproval. "No one knows for certain why she fell to the dark side. Even she doesn't know."
Belaya spoke up for the first time, unsurprisingly in support of her former Master. "It's obvious. Jedi Revan, in her arrogant conceit, went against the wishes of the Council time and time again. She fell to the dark side because she was undisciplined, and when faced with temptation, she was unable to turn away."
Dustil got the distinct impression he had blundered into the middle of an ongoing argument when Jolee shook his head and sighed. "That is a gross oversimplification of a rather complex issue."
Quatra sniffed. "Nonsense! If the Council had used stricter training methods-"
"Like the training methods you used with Juhani?" Carth snorted in disgust. "Yeah, we all saw how well that worked."
A dark red flush stained the Zabrak's cheeks at his father's words. Jedi serenity abandoned, her lip curled into near snarl. "What could you possibly know about Jedi training methods?"
Carth crossed his arms as he fired off his words like blaster shots. "Lady, I saw what you did to Juhani. I was there when Min found her after you tricked Juhani into thinking she'd killed you, and then abandoned her. She was suffering in a grove by herself, scared, angry and confused. You left her there for over a month and did nothing, as some kind of stupid test." Dustil realized that the argument was drawing covert looks from nearby tables, but his father didn't seem to care. "If that's your idea of training, then you need to stay the hell away from my son!"
Before Dustil could decide whether to be angry or pleased with his father's overprotective attitude, Quatra shot back, "This type of interference is one of the reasons why emotional attachments to family members are discouraged." She turned her attention back to Master Zhar. "I do not know why you allow your padawans to indulge in these types of relationships. There is no way that outsiders could possibly understand our methods-"
"Indulge in relationships?" Carth snapped back, anger bubbling over at her dismissive attitude towards family. "I'm his father, sister! And I understand your methods just fine-"
"Enough." Master Zhar's soft but authoritative voice cut across the table, demanding attention. "Quatra, your objections are noted. Perhaps later, at a more appropriate time, we can discuss them further." Quatra's lips thinned, but she swallowed any retort she might have made, glaring instead at Carth with intense dislike. From the look on his father's face, the feeling was clearly mutual.
Fortunately, any further conversation was cut short as dinner was finally served. As the first Republic speaker took the podium, attentive silence settled over the room, but Dustil barely heard a word that was spoken, his mind still buzzing from his father's words.
Min shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she tried to ignore Carth's presence, while Admiral Dodonna, the last speaker of the night, thankfully, began her speech. It was terribly difficult, because even when she wasn't looking at him she could feel his unmistakable presence through her Force senses, calling for her attention. Realizing that she was simply unable to ignore him, she drew her Force senses inward, throwing up a mind block so that she could no longer feel anything through the Force outside of a radius of a few meters around her.
It helped the situation only marginally, since not being able to sense him though the Force perversely made her want to turn around and look at him. But she could feel the weight of his accusing eyes on her back from across the room, so she tried, unsuccessfully, to focus her attention on Admiral Dodonna's speech.
The occasion for the Republic finery was the second anniversary of the destruction of the Star Forge, coupled with the opening of the new Republic Fleet Academy. While Min hated banquets, she figured that she couldn't complain. One of the very few positives of being a former war criminal was that political banquets weren't something that she usually had to deal with.
However, the Fleet brass and the Jedi Order had told her, in no uncertain terms, that she had to come tonight. Given the terribly strained relations between the Jedi Order, the Republic Fleet and the Republic Senate, tonight's event was important. The outward show of solidarity would hopefully strengthen the precarious position of the Jedi Order, a situation that had been caused in large part by herself, most recently by the controversy in the Senate over her pardon. Her recent pardon had passed in the Senate by a mere three votes, and had included a whole list of restrictions. Still, at least she wouldn't have to stand trial and face execution. While she wasn't exactly free, she was at least alive.
Even with all of the influential and powerful people pushing for her pardon, it probably wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for the siege of Alderaan. Two years ago, after the destruction of the Star Forge, she'd been taken into custody by the Republic military and brought back to Coruscant, and charged by the Senate as a traitor and a war criminal.
However, before her trial could begin, fate, luck or the Force intervened. The remaining Sith forces, freed from the tactical clumsiness of Darth Malak's leadership, attacked the Republic, whose fleet had been seriously weakened by the ravages of two wars and the costly victory at the Star Forge. As the Republic focused on Min's trial, the Sith began to push towards the Core Worlds in a series of precise, brilliant and relentless attacks, under the direction of Grand Admiral Prest. The weakened and overextended Republic Fleet could barely keep up with his attacks.
The attacks culminated in a twenty-seven day standoff over the planet of Alderaan. The Senate petitioned the Jedi Council for help, specifically the use of Bastila's battle meditation. The Jedi Order, angry that Min had not been turned over to their custody, refused them. It was Carth and Bastila who had finally hammered out an agreement with the Senate; Bastila would use her battle meditation, with the help of Min's tactical knowledge, in exchange for Min's eventual pardon. In addition, Carth would take the rank of Admiral that he'd refused. Desperate, the Senate agreed.
With Min's tactical knowledge directing Bastila's battle meditation, the Sith armada was devastated. Bit by bit, the Sith were pushed back into their sector in less than seventeen months. But even though their end of the bargain had been upheld, the Senate almost didn't pardon her. After some serious pressure, arm twisting, blackmail and promises by the Jedi Council, High Admiral Dodonna, Carth, Bastila and several Senators of planets that had been saved because of her, they had eventually prevailed. In the end, she had been returned to the custody of the Jedi Order.
Since she owed her life and her quasi-freedom to many of the people in this room, she had agreed to come tonight, despite the fact that she would rather gnaw off her own leg than attend. Min looked over at Bastila's empty chair, and felt a momentary twinge of envy that the young Jedi had somehow managed to escape this exquisite torture.
Min reached through the thin, gossamer thread of their shared Force bond, searching for Bastila. What she felt on the other end was simmering impatience.
Curious as to what could be agitating the Jedi Princess, Min touched Bastila's mind. How's it coming?
Terribly. Ambassador Rzadi has kept us waiting now for over an hour and a half! I am afraid that she is going to cancel our appointment again. Both Juhani and Yuthura are rather...upset.
The mental image flashed into Min's mind, of Juhani pacing along a marble-tiled corridor, hair bristling and fangs flashing, while Yuthura sat in coiled serenity, her irritation betrayed as she tapped one sharp nail against the datapad in her hand. Padawan Thalia May, one of the former Korriban students, sat in attentive silence.
At least you have an excuse not to be here. Min tried to keep her thoughts light and nonchalant, shielding the younger woman from her turbulent thoughts of a certain Republic Admiral.
We planned on coming. Min could feel Bastila's guilt flow through the bond over the perceived neglect of her duty. The Council must be displeased.
The Council will survive. Take my advice and use this as an excuse not to come. Go ahead and play hooky, just this once. Min's gaze swept across the room. Even though the banquet had been going on for almost two hours by this point, many guests were still clearly uncomfortable with her presence. She'd endured their frightened, distrustful stares and whispers in silence, wishing that she were anyplace but here. But she knew it would be worse for Bastila, since she'd been heralded, along with Carth, as a savior of the Republic. Her fall to the dark side, amazingly, was still a secret from the general public. In some ways, Min figured that Bastila had the real raw deal. Trust me, you don't want to be here.
Wry amusement flashed briefly though the link. You are a very bad influence.
Min's lips twitched as she suppressed a chuckle. I try.
Admiral Dodonna began to wrap up her speech, and Min knew that her full attention would be required for the meet and greet afterward. I should go. Good luck with the Ambassador.
There is no such thing as luck, Min, only the Force. With that bit of unsolicited Jedi wisdom, Bastila was gone.
Min turned her attention back to the banquet, where High Admiral Dodonna had just ended her speech with a flourish. Applause rippled throughout the room, and Min clapped dutifully, even though she hadn't heard a word of the speech.
Next to her, Canderous took a long swig of his whiskey, not bothering to hide his irritation at being here. He spoke in Mandalorian, much to the displeasure of the surrounding Jedi Council members. "I can't believe that a society this pompous and long-winded defeated my people."
She responded in Mandalorian, her quota for politeness already being exhausted by a very trying day. "I can't believe that you came tonight. I thought you'd refuse to come."
"It's been a while since I've seen any action. Someone might try to assassinate you tonight. It might be fun..." She knew that Canderous was only half joking. He'd been growing more and more restless since the fighting with the Sith had ended.
"Someone already has." Min gestured to her plate of untouched food and the small, pocket-sized ChaumScanner Five that she always carried with her, which had detected three different poisons in the meal. Considering the large bounty on her head and the rather large number of people who wanted her dead, it was hardly surprising. Republic intelligence had already taken a sample, but it was rather difficult telling just who was trying to kill her at any given moment.
"Mmm. I was hoping for something more violent, where I'd get to hit someone."
"Smacking down obnoxious padawans not satisfying enough for you?"
Canderous had returned with her from the fleet, and had been helping the Jedi weapons masters train the young Jedi padawans. Stupidly, the Jedi padawans tended to underestimate the Mandalorian because he wasn't a Force user, and Min found it highly entertaining to watch Canderous take apart his young, cocky opponents. Yesterday had been Dustil Onasi's turn, and it had been rather enlightening.
"Hardly. I was looking for something that would give me more of a challenge."
The other Council members stood at the table, and Min rose with them. Admiral Dodonna joined them at their table and gestured to them to follow her into the reception area.
"Have fun being paraded around on your gilded leash." With a sneer that she wanted to smack off his face, Canderous abandoned her and headed to the bar, shaking his head as he walked off through the crowd of people that scrambled to get out of the surly Mandalorian's way.
The next hour and a half was one of the most miserable times of her life, as she was put on display in front of the Fleet brass, various Senators and members of the Jedi Order. Min tried not to be resentful, since she knew that it was necessary to reassure these very influential people that she was in no danger of becoming Darth Revan any time soon. The Council and Fleet command had taken a lot of heat when they had pushed her recent pardon through the Republic Senate. She supposed that this was part of her penance, but it rankled when they talked about her like she wasn't standing right next to them. At least she wasn't really required to say anything. Mostly, she just stood in between Admiral Dodonna and Master Vrook, and tried to look as harmless as possible.
By the time the nervous-looking Republic lieutenant Min recognized as one of Dodonna's aides approached her, she had a raging headache. He surprised her by speaking directly to her, and not addressing Admiral Dodonna or Master Vrook like everyone else had.
"Jedi Revan, Admiral Onasi wishes to have a word with you."
Dodonna interjected smoothly, "Lieutenant, please inform the retired Admiral that it will not be possible."
Retired? What? When?
"Yes, ma'am." The lieutenant looked positively green as he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing in indecision.
Dodonna sighed and said, "Spit it out, Lieutenant."
"Um, Admiral Onasi said that if she didn't come to him, that he would be just as happy having this conversation in front of everyone here." The harried lieutenant cleared his throat in embarrassment before he continued. "He was rather...forceful, Admiral."
Min could actually hear Dodonna's teeth gnashing in frustration. Vrook, on the other hand, hid any response behind a smooth veneer of Jedi serenity as he scanned the crowd of influential people, scrutinizing every move. Min knew that Carth had them by the balls with this one. They wouldn't risk starting a scene involving the biggest war hero of their generation. She knew what had to be done.
She stepped forward and gestured with her hand. "Lead the way, Lieutenant."
The lieutenant glanced over at the Admiral, who nodded slightly. Mollified that he had the blessings of his superiors, the lieutenant led her through the crowd of people, all of them casting speculative gazes at her, then up an enormous set of marble stairs. As she walked, Canderous silently fell into step behind her, his grey eyes sweeping around, alert for any possible trouble. Without breaking stride, Min snatched a flute of Garwillian champagne from the tray of a passing serving droid.
The lieutenant led her to a small sitting room, hesitating in front of the archaic glass doors. Min threw caution to the wind and downed the glass of champagne in one long swallow, the sweet bubbly liquid sliding smoothly down her throat. Canderous scowled his disapproval.
If it's poisoned, at least I won't have to face him.
"Thanks, Lieutenant," she said as she handed the lieutenant the empty glass, noticing his uncertainty as to whether or not he should actually lead her into the room. "I think I can handle it from here." A palpable wave of relief flooded from him as she let him off the hook. With a curt nod, he walked away as fast as he could without actually running. Despite her ill temper, Min couldn't help but laugh.
Stretching her Jedi senses, she confirmed that it was, in fact, Carth waiting for her in the other room.
"It's Carth," she said, for Canderous' benefit.
Canderous didn't say anything, just leaned against the wall and lit a cigarra. Icy dread filled her stomach as she opened the door. Min took a deep breath and entered the room, steeling herself for a conversation that she'd been avoiding for two years.
"So you see, I'm afraid that fulfilling your request is going to be rather... impossible." Ambassador Rzadi steepled her clawed fingers in front of her, tossing her head in an unmistakably arrogant gesture as her long black topknot fell over her shoulder. "There is no chance that our government will agree to additional inspections of the ships that come from Ryloth."
Yuthura pushed aside her bitterness; her cool outward demeanor betrayed nothing of the raging contempt and frustration that she struggled to get under control.
The Falleen ambassador continued, her exquisite, scaled face betraying no emotion or even token sympathy. "It is simply not in our economic interests to increase inspections on ships passing along the Corellian Run. Who would pay for these extra law-enforcement officers? Our government? The Republic? The Jedi Council?"
"Ambassador, because of your homeworld's position along the Corellian Run, it gives your government the unique opportunity to stop many of the slavers trafficking from Ryloth to the Core planets." Yuthura's smooth alto was calm and reasonable, even though Ambassador Rzadi was testing the outer limits of her patience. "Stricter enforcement of the laws already put in place by the existing treaty between the Republic and your planet- "
The Ambassador held up her scaled green hand. "What you are asking is simply not feasible, and, quite frankly, Twi'lek slavery from Ryloth is simply not our problem."
It will be if I make it your problem.
Various Sith persuasion techniques occurred to Yuthura, but she shoved those thoughts aside with a twinge of regret. She briefly wondered if Force compulsion would work on the ambassador. As tempting as it was, she knew that even if Rzadi was weak-minded enough, in the long run it wasn't really a solution, in addition to the fact that it was, well, wrong.
The ambassador stood, signaling the end of their interview. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have important business to attend to."
Effectively dismissed, there was nothing left for them to do but leave. "Thank you for your time, Ambassador," Juhani said, after a polite bow.
The four women were ushered out of the opulent office by the ambassador's secretary. Only when they were outside of the Falleen Embassy did they allow their frustration to show.
"Well, that was pointless," Thalia said.
Bastila led the way down the open-air corridor, her quick, efficient steps clicking on the pavement.
"Perhaps not," Juhani said, as Yuthura fell into step beside her. "If we can appeal again to the Senate to pressure the Falleen government to enforce the terms of the treaty-"
Yuthura coiled her head-tails around her neck, trying to control her agitation. She took a deep, calming breath of the cool night air before she spoke. "We already tried that."
The reality was that the Falleen government received an enormous amount of credits from the slavers to look the other way. No amount of reasoning was going to change their view as long as the credits kept coming.
Juhani glanced at Yuthura, concern written across her sharp features. "We must be patient."
Had it been anyone else who'd told her that, Yuthura would have been tempted to ignore their words or retort with a scathing rebuke. However, as someone who had endured slavery herself, she couldn't just brush Juhani's words aside. Yuthura marveled that Juhani could still remain even remotely optimistic after all of the setbacks that they'd had, especially when she could feel the frustration pouring off of the Cathar.
I'm tired of being patient.
Over the last year,Yuthura and Juhani had appealed to the Senate, ambassadors and anyone who would listen regarding the problem of black-market slave trade, and the only result after all this time was that Yuthura's frustration was almost at breaking point. It was truly galling to try to talk to various Senators, ambassadors and bureaucratic officials about the problem of slavery, which was blatant and commonplace, despite the fact that it was illegal. Every time the answer was the same: an expression of sympathy and acknowledgement that the current situation was unfortunate, followed by a long list of excuses as to why nothing could be done. At least the Falleen ambassador had been more honest than most they had talked to.
Yuthura's longstanding resentment was nearly at a boiling point after months of hearing the same excuses and denials, and fruitlessly trying to go through the legal channels available. She was torn between wanting to take more direct action than the Council allowed, and fear of what would happen if she left the Order again. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge of what had happened to her the last time. Feeling the edges of her hard-won inner peace fraying, she didn't know how much longer she would be able to stand by and do nothing.
"There must be a better way," Yuthura stated. "The approach we have been taking isn't working."
Not having any response to that, her companions remained silent as they entered Embassy Park, a large urban park which connected the most important and prominent embassies on Coruscant. Since it was past dinnertime, the usually bustling square was dark and deserted, except for the four women. Yuthura soaked in the beautiful, peaceful atmosphere of the garden as she walked, inhaling the sweet tang of the black Zinthorn blossoms now in full bloom, which were illuminated by the soft lights that flanked the flagstone pathway.
Eventually, Juhani broke the silence. "Thank you for coming tonight, Bastila."
"You are welcome. I am sorry I was not more helpful."
"The Falleen ambassador would not have seen us without your presence." Only the pressure exerted by two bona fide heroes of the Star Forge battle had persuaded the Falleen ambassador to grant them an audience in the first place, and even that had been quite difficult.
Bastila's lips twitched into a slight smile. "Perhaps Carth would have been a better choice, given the ambassador's taste in companions. " The exquisite Falleen ambassador was rather well known for preferring the company of good-looking human men.
Amusement shone in Juhani's yellow eyes. "I think it would be rather difficult to convince him, given what happened the last time he tried it on Tatooine."
At that, Yuthura's curiosity was piqued, but she didn't feel comfortable enough with either Jedi to ask for the whole story.
"Well, we would not have to tell him," Bastila pointed out as her smile widened. "We could have just brought him along, and let the rest happen as the Force dictates."
Juhani chuckled and shook her head, amused by the underhanded suggestion. "You have been spending too much time with Min."
"Is it true that the Queen of Naboo proposed to Admiral Onasi?" Thalia asked.
"Oh, yes. She ambushed him in front of a crowd of about a thousand people," Bastila said. "The poor man turned a bright shade of pink. I don't think he was able to put together an actual sentence for several minutes." Shaking her head, Bastila laughed softly at the memory. "She was at least eighty years old, if she was a day. But all things considered, he handled the situation very graciously."
"But didn't that make you angry? I mean, aren't you..." Thalia's voice trailed off as Bastila's expression darkened.
"Jealous? No," Bastila stated vehemently, but Thalia still looked dubious. "I don't understand why no one believes this, but Carth and I are not-" Bastila took a deep breath and smoothed her features. "We are not lovers. Even if I were interested in him – which I am not – I would never do that to Min."
Thalia asked the question that Yuthura was thinking. "Revan? What does she have to do with this?" Thalia's eyes widened in comprehension. "Are they-"
"No," Juhani said sharply, cutting off Thalia's impertinent question. "They are not." Satisfied that Thalia was suitably chastised, she turned her attention back to Bastila. "The rumors were inevitable, Bastila. Both of you are well-known public figures. It is the same reason there are rumors about you and Canderous. Eventually, the fascination with us will die down and we will be left alone."
"When? Just yesterday, Senator Kinel came up to me and..."
Yuthura listened with only half of her attention to Bastila's description of a drunken Senator's impertinent remarks. Her attention was mostly taken up by the oppressive quiet that had settled over the square. She couldn't sense anyone but the four of them through her Jedi senses, but something seemed...off. Yuthura paused and scanned the hedges and flowerbeds of the massive garden, but she didn't see anything.
As nonchalantly as she could, she unhooked her lightsaber from her belt; she hadn't lasted as long as she had as a Sith by disregarding her instincts. Juhani stopped, noticing Yuthura's hesitation, and her yellow eyes narrowed as she scanned the garden. Neither of them saw anything, but Yuthura couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blaster bolt materialize from behind a nearby feathertree. It caught Thalia May in the back of her head with a sickening sizzle, and the young woman pitched forward. She was dead before she hit the ground.
Yuthura heard the crackle of a stealth field dropping when a blurry figure materialized next to Bastila. Bastila didn't even have time to react as she was stabbed by a vibroknife.
Juhani acted first. With a blue flash and a quick movement, she sliced their attacker across the chest, searing through their armor. The smell of charred flesh was her reward. Eyes wide in shock, Bastila staggered, clutching her stomach as a dark stain began to spread on her pristine Jedi robe.
Yuthura ignited her lightsaber, deflecting the barrage of blaster bolts as they were attacked from all sides.
Hands shoved in his pockets, Carth stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, not really looking at the new training grounds below, when he heard the old-fashioned ornamental doors open behind him. A moment passed, and then the doors closed with a soft but ominous click. He didn't turn to acknowledge her. Instead, he continued to stare out the large windows, stewing in his anger, somewhat surprised that after all this time it was still so strong.
She was nearly silent as she approached, and only the soft rustle of fabric betrayed her presence. When he turned from the window, she froze behind a fancy loveseat in the middle of the elegant sitting room, one hand perched hesitantly on the back of the delicate furniture. It took her a minute to meet his eyes, and when she finally did, his guts twisted painfully. Old wounds that he thought were nearly healed were ripped open when he saw her again tonight. Bitter anger and pain scoured through him, leaving him raw.
The first thing he noticed was that she looked tired and drawn; the beautiful, delicate features of her face seemed tight and brittle. Even to his inexperienced eyes, he could tell that her brown and ivory Jedi robes were impeccably tailored and made from the finest material. Still, they just looked wrong on her, as if she wasn't quite comfortable wearing them.
He had spent the better part of two years trying to arrange this meeting, fighting against the Fleet brass, the Jedi Council, various Senators and, most importantly, the woman standing before him. But now that they were actually facing each other, he didn't know where to start.
Carth finally settled on a quiet, "Hello, Min."
She blinked. Clearly she hadn't expected so mundane a greeting. "I suspect you had a good deal to do with my pardon."
She suspected correctly. He had used up every political favor his war hero status had granted him, and had worked with the Jedi Council and the Republic military into getting her a pardon.
As he nodded his confirmation, she said, "Thank you."
With a curt gesture, he ruthlessly dismissed her thanks. "I don't want your gratitude." Crossing his arms, he faced off against her. "I just want an explanation that I figure is about two years overdue." As he spoke, his voice grew tighter and tighter with pain. He wasn't sure why he was forcing this, other than the fact that he simply had to know. "You cut me out of your life without so much as a backward glance, and I want to know why. I deserve to know why."
She looked away as she spoke. "I already told you."
"You didn't tell me anything. Damn it, woman, you sent me a note!" The note, delivered by Juhani, had been painfully brief. It had simply stated that she had made a mistake, and that he needed to get on with his life without her.
At first he hadn't believed it. When he'd tried to see her, she ruthlessly used the fact that she was a prisoner in her favor, by asking High Admiral Dodonna to keep him away. Dodonna had complied, informing him that she was unwilling to allow the Republic's famous war hero to be touched by scandal. For a long time he had refused to give up, trying unsuccessfully through Bastila, Jolee and Juhani to convince her to at least see him. Finally Jolee had forced him to face the bitter truth: that she didn't want to see him.
Carth clenched his hands into fists so hard that his fingers began to ache, and tried not to give into the overwhelming urge to hit something.
"You didn't even have the guts to face me!"
"You're right. I didn't. I wouldn't have been able to do it face-to-face." She looked at him then, and while her voice was infuriatingly calm, her intense eyes betrayed her pain. "I'm not sorry I did it. It was the right thing to do."
Her words ignited his anger into fury, and he couldn't stop himself from shouting. "It was the right thing to do? What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Carth-" Whatever she was going to say turned into a scream of pain. Min doubled over, clutching her side, shaking. She leaned against the back of the love seat, her dark eyes wide and unseeing. Fear and concern shot through him, and his anger was temporarily forgotten.
He caught her, holding her up as her knees went boneless. "Bastila," she croaked, "she's hurt! I have to..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; after a few seconds she stood up straight and bolted for the door. He could tell that she was still hurting because her face was tight and drawn.
"Do you know where she is?" he asked as she threw open the door to reveal a very startled Canderous.
She nodded. "I need to find a way to get there." Canderous fell into step with them.
As they moved quickly down the stairs, he noticed his son standing with his friends at the bottom. Carth saw that Dustil's arms were crossed and his jaw was set in a hard line.
Carth dismissed his worry; he had more important things to worry about at the moment. He grabbed her elbow to stop her. At her confused and impatient look he said, "Hold on. I think I've got the answer."
Half-dragging, half-carrying a nearly unconscious and very bloody Bastila, Yuthura moved as quickly as she could while Juhani covered their retreat. Blaster bolts zipped past them as they ran, outnumbered and outgunned by the shadowy figures that had materialized out of the darkness. Behind her she could hear Juhani's lightsaber connecting with the blaster bolts with telltale sizzles and hisses.
For the first time in a long time, she was terrified, because for whatever reason she couldn't feel her attackers through the Force. Even worse, they didn't seem to be affected by Force powers at all. When she'd tried to send a Force wave at them, she could feel the Force washing past them, as if they weren't standing right in front of her.
Yuthura concentrated on Bastila as they moved, using the Force to stop the bleeding from the gaping vibroblade wound on her side and to relieve the burden of the Jedi's dead weight. She managed to stop most of the blood flow, but that was all, since healing was something she simply didn't have a natural talent for, and she didn't have much time to focus on it while she ran down the flagstone trail, deeper and deeper into the heart of the park.
The trees were thicker here, as flowerbeds and bushes gave way to a more natural-looking but carefully sculptured simulated forest.
In her peripheral vision, she could see the dark forms of their pursuers on either side of them, running parallel to them, occasionally firing off a shot that was easily dodged or deflected now that the Jedi knew the attack was coming. Even though they couldn't sense their attackers, they could feel the shots as they came. She wondered why they were still shooting at them, since now that their presence was betrayed, the odds of hitting the Jedi women with their blasters were slim. Shooting at them clearly wasn't working.
Unless they're not trying to hit us...
"Juhani! They're herding us!"
The Cathar's yellow eyes widened in comprehension as they broke out of the cluster of trees into a dark, empty amphitheatre. As they raced down the stone steps, she could hear their attackers gaining behind them.
"I do not want to find out what's waiting for us up there," Yuthura panted.
Juhani pointed at the empty stage. "We will make our stand there."
Yuthura nodded silently. Juhani gracefully leapt up onto the bare stage, and Yuthura handed the Cathar the now unconscious Bastila. Juhani placed her against the back wall, and the two women waited for their attackers to appear. The soft glows of their blue and violet lightsabers illuminated the dark gloom until Yuthura extinguished her lightsaber. After wiping off her hands, sticky with Bastila's blood, on her robes, she reached into the folds of her robe and unsheathed the trio of small throwing knives strapped to her leg.
After what seemed like forever, but was probably less than half a minute, a half dozen shadowy figures appeared at the top of the stairs. But instead of advancing, they just stood in silence. Yuthura's stomach clenched as she realized that they were waiting for something. A few more figures, ones that seemed bulkier and more hunchbacked, joined the others. Slowly and warily, the attackers began to advance.
As they stalked forward, Yuthura studied them. They were all humanoid in form, but it was difficult to tell more than that since their faces were cowled. They had holstered their blasters and had drawn vibroblades. Yuthura and Juhani braced themselves for the oncoming attack.
And then, without warning, the Force was gone.
Min bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming. She could taste the coppery tang of blood as she fought down her panic, but what she really wanted to do was wail. Bastila was simply gone.
Nearly hyperventilating in panic, she tried to focus on slowing her breathing down. It was Canderous who brought her back to the here and now.
"Min!" he barked as he grabbed her shoulder across the back of her seat and shook her roughly. She focused on his hard, pissed-off face and held up a hand to stop him.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, although thankfully he stopped shaking her.
Min gripped the edge of the cool leather seat and found her voice. "She's gone. I can't feel her through the bond."
Canderous' face went from irritated to grim. Dustil, who was crammed next to the big Mandalorian in the tiny backseat, paled, while Carth, who was piloting the speeder at an alarmingly fast speed, said nothing, his jaw settling in a hard line. Since the speeder's top was down, the chill wind whipped them as he flew; the enormous skyscrapers were just a blur as he cut through the flow of traffic.
"Here." Canderous handed Min her lightsabers. She hadn't wanted to leave them at the Jedi Temple tonight, but Dodonna and Vrook had been unwilling to allow her to wear them at the banquet. She hadn't told them that she'd asked Canderous to hold them for her.
Unwilling to watch as Carth dodged and bobbed between the vehicles in the thick Coruscanti traffic, she focused instead on his pale son, who was clutching his lightsaber in a death grip.
After leading them to where he'd parked the speeder earlier, the kid had insisted on tagging along, despite his father's protests. A full-blown family fight had almost ensued, prevented only by the urgency of the situation. Since they simply didn't have time to argue with him, Dustil had gotten to come along.
"Shouldn't we have told someone where we were going?" Dustil asked, shocking Min. It was the first time the boy had spoken to her directly since their escape from Korriban. "Asked for backup or something?"
"That won't be a problem." Min knew that a squad of Special Forces troopers was probably already following them. Her unauthorized departure from the banquet was bound to draw attention, and the chip implanted at the base of her skull would tell them exactly where she was. Dustil's lips thinned in annoyance when she refused to elaborate, but he remained silent.
"We're almost there," Carth announced, and Min shifted her attention to the front of the speeder. She could see the green sprawl of the park ahead of her. Stretching her senses, she tried to find Yuthura, Juhani or Thalia.
"I can't feel any of them. Can you?" she asked Dustil.
He closed his eyes for a second before saying, "No."
"You're sure this is the place?" Carth asked.
"Yes. Bastila showed me before she lost consciousness."
He nodded and brought the speeder closer to the treetops of the park. Carth began cursing, "Damn it, Dustil! You weren't kidding about these brakes, were you?"
She felt Dustil reach out with the Force to slow the speeder down as she scanned the treetops. It was Canderous who spotted them. "Over there."
Min could barely make out a blue glow, but Carth followed Canderous' terse directions and jerked the speeder to the right. Tense seconds passed as they approached. It looked like they were in the heart of the park, where the synthetic forest opened up into a beautiful amphitheatre, which was carved out of the ground. She could make out figures on the stage, and the blue glow of a lightsaber.
Min saw Juhani and Yuthura, bloody and ragged, standing near the back wall of the stage, surrounded by a half dozen cowled figures. There were a few slumped shapes at their feet.
Carth brought the speeder in close, preparing to land. But Min didn't want to wait--when they were about fifteen meters above the ground, she stood and leapt out of the moving speeder. As she used the Force to slow her fall, she could hear the shouts of surprise from Dustil and swearing from Carth. She landed on her feet roughly but without injury.
Min sprinted down the stone steps towards Yuthura and Juhani, and ignited her lightsabers while she ran. When she hit the Force-void area, Min stopped in her tracks, staggering as the world shifted and went out of focus.
Completely disoriented, she dropped her lightsabers while her mind tried to make sense of what was happening to her. Metal clinked against hard stone, and her lightsabers snapped off. Min regained her bearings enough to see several cowled figures charging her, and she realized that she was completely defenseless against them. She turned to run back up the stairs, her now clumsy feet catching on the stone steps. She went down hard, and pain shot through her elbow and arm.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw her attackers circle in for the kill, almost within striking range. She scrambled to move as their blades lowered.
Blaster shots rang out as Canderous, Carth and Dustil came into view. Both men fired simultaneously, hitting the closest attacker square in the face, while the other one lunged at Min. She twisted, and the vibroblade whistled past her ear as she moved. There was another sizzle, and the figure dropped to his knees before toppling over sideways.
Carth stopped to help her up, grim worry written across his face as Canderous stripped the dead men of their blades.
"Go help them," she shouted, pointing at the struggle happening on the stage before them. Without hesitation they complied. Canderous sprinted to the fight, vibroswords flashing in the dim light, while Carth covered him with his blasters.
Min retreated up the steps to where Dustil was standing, and groaned with relief as the Force swamped over her. Turning, she saw Canderous run one of his blades through one of the assailants who had lost his weapon and was trying to strangle Yuthura with his bare hands. With a few well-placed shots, Carth dropped the other two, and an eerie silence filled the amphitheatre as the fighting ended.
Gingerly, Min made her way to the stage, followed by Dustil, wincing as she hit the Force-void area. Since she knew that it was coming, it was easier to recover. Dustil stumbled, and she caught him by his elbow.
Being cut off from the Force was profoundly uncomfortable, and she felt like she was standing naked in a room full of strangers. But she ignored it, rushing towards Bastila, who was propped up against the back wall. Bastila was so pale and still, that for several horrible seconds, Min thought she was dead, but a quick check revealed a faint heartbeat.
In the distance, Min could hear sirens approaching, and knew that Bastila needed to get medical help immediately. Carth crouched down next to her.
"Take her up to the top of the hill. See if Dustil can help her."
Nodding, Carth picked Bastila up and barked for Dustil to follow him, Juhani limping along with them. Min walked over to where Yuthura was sitting, bloody and exhausted. The beginning of a dreadful, dark bruise was blossoming around Yuthura's neck.
"Where's Thalia?"
Yuthura answered, her head-tails flattened against her skull. "Dead."
Min shook her head. "Damn."
"I thought we were dead. How did you - "
"The bond. I felt it though the bond. I thought you were dead, too."
Canderous shouted at her from across the stage, "This one's alive." When Min and Yuthura joined him, he asked, "Do you want him to stay that way?"
Thinking of Thalia May and Bastila, she was sorely tempted to answer in the negative. "Yeah."
She crouched down next to the wounded figure and pulled back the cowl to reveal a human male. Min was immediately struck by how young he was; he didn't even look old enough to shave. The pair of silver throwing knives buried in his chest glinted cruelly in the low light. One looked awfully close to his heart, while the other was lodged in his stomach. He was still conscious, although bleeding profusely.
"Who are you?" Min demanded.
The kid just looked at her long and hard. Finally he rasped, "You're Revan, aren't you?"
"How do you know who I am?"
"We all know who you are." His face twisted and Min didn't need her Jedi powers to feel the intense hatred coming from the boy. "I wanted to be the one who would kill you."
"Why did you do this?"
But he didn't answer. Before Min could figure out what was happening, he clenched his jaw hard. Min heard a popping sound, and then his eyes rolled back into his head as he convulsed and foamed at the mouth. In less than ten seconds, he was dead.
Disgusted, Min rose and headed up the hill to where the troops had landed, wondering what the hell she'd gotten her friends into.