A/N: Sorry about the delay in updating. Essay crisis, Civilization 4 released, computer blew up, etc...
It was late in the evening, and all was quiet on board the Hawk. The journey to Tatooine was almost complete; it had proceeded fairly smoothly and, thus far, been relatively peaceful. Even Carth and Bastila had managed to keep their usual bickering to a minimum, for which Jacob was exceedingly grateful.
The crewmembers – with the exception of Bastila, who was in her cabin – were gathered in the central section of the ship, engaged in various solitary activities. Juhani was reading a book, Carth was poring over a datapad, and Mission had wheedled Canderous into giving her a game of Pazaak, while Zaalbar looked on silently. Jacob sat alone in a corner, letting the quiet voices drift over him and thinking over the events of the last few days.
He hadn't said much to Carth since the row they'd had on Dantooine. The pilot had been unusually subdued after that morning, and Jacob suspected that he was probably feeling rather ashamed of himself. Fortunately he had had to spend most of his time flying the ship, giving them a good excuse to avoid each other until they had both cooled off.
Juhani, too, had said very little to anyone as yet. Jacob couldn't work out whether she was simply very shy, or still badly affected by her failure to resist the Dark Side, or both. At one point he'd tactfully enquired whether she wanted to talk, but she only shook her head.
"I thank you for your concern," she said with a sigh, "but I am still a bit shaken. I have been thinking about my fall to the Dark Side, about Quatra..."
"She is going to be OK, isn't she?"
The young woman nodded. "Yes, I believe so. But the anger that drove me that far... I look inside myself and I can still feel it. It frightens me."
"Maybe you just need more time," he suggested. "To get it out of your system."
She nodded again. "More time would do me good. I think that may be why the Council agreed to send me with you."
"Well, if I think I see you slipping back, I'll let you know." He spoke jestingly, but they both knew that he meant what he said.
"I thank you for your kindness, Padawan," she said, with a grateful smile. "I will strive to prove myself worthy of your trust."
If anyone could draw her out of her shell, he had thought it would be Bastila; after all, they were both Jedi and roughly the same age. But for reasons Jacob couldn't fathom, Juhani seemed to have taken an instant dislike to the other woman; her mild overtures of friendship had been met with a distinct coldness, bordering on unfriendliness or even outright hostility. Being Bastila, she had instantly sensed this and responded in kind, becoming as cold and distant towards Juhani as she was towards everyone else.
He was still pondering over this when Mission's voice piped up excitedly: "I win!" The others looked up in amusement as she jumped out of her seat and clasped her hands above her head in triumph. It was good to see her back to her normal, cheerful self, thought Jacob; her time spent with the Jedi must have done her some good.
Canderous didn't look too pleased at being beaten by a fourteen-year-old girl, but even he couldn't hide a trace of rather grudging amusement. "You're too sharp for your own good, you little street rat," he muttered, shaking his head.
Mission shrugged, not in the least concerned. "I've beaten everyone on the ship now," she announced with satisfaction, and then her face fell a little. "Except Bastila, of course."
"Why do you not ask her to play?" enquired Juhani, speaking up for the first time.
"Are you kidding?" Mission rolled her eyes. "I'll never get her to play. She probably thinks it's against the Jedi Code or something."
"You could always try asking," Jacob observed quietly, from over in the corner.
The young girl screwed up her face. "Maybe. But if she starts talking about the Dark Side, I'm outta here." She frowned deeply, pressed her lips together and spoke in a passable imitation of Master Vrook's deep, gravelly voice. " 'Beware of anger and hatred, young one. Such things lead to the Dark Side.' That's all I've been hearing for the past month."
The others laughed, astonished by how accurately she managed to imitate the middle-aged Jedi Master. "I didn't know you could do impersonations, Mission," said Jacob, greatly amused.
"Don't encourage her," warned Zaalbar. "Once you get her going, she'll never stop."
He was right. Thrilled with the attention she was getting, Mission switched to imitating Zaalbar himself, provoking more laughter. She even made a stab at Carth, who couldn't help responding with a smile – a rather weak one, but the first that Jacob had seen from him in days.
"Do the Princess," said Canderous suddenly, and Mission's eyes lit up. Immediately she slipped into the low, well-modulated tones of the young Jedi, her face taking on the somewhat haughty expression that Bastila invariably adopted when someone annoyed her.
"I am not 'stuck up'," she intoned, perfectly imitating Bastila's air of frosty superiority. "I merely have the years of training to give me the wisdom and understanding to see how childish such an act would be."
Jacob had to suppress a snort of laughter. Though he felt a twinge of discomfort at making fun of Bastila during her absence, he couldn't deny that Mission's imitation of her was all too accurate. Delighted by her reception, the young Twi'lek continued her 'Jedi Princess' impression: "I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!"
The sounds of their laughter filtered through to Bastila as she lay reading in the cabin, and a faint, wistful ache began to grow inside her at the thought of the joke she couldn't share. She was well aware that her social skills left a lot to be desired, and the circumstances she found herself in – thrown together with people she didn't know, like or even trust, and who disliked and distrusted her in return – made an already difficult situation almost intolerable for her. She found it easiest to simply avoid the others as much as possible; that way she could escape both the inevitable clash of wills, and the more insidious danger of growing too close to any of them.
But was this any way for a leader to act? It seemed impolite, not to mention cowardly, to behave as if she couldn't bear to be in their presence. A touch of guilt mingled with the sudden pang of loneliness; perhaps she ought to be making more of an effort. She was, after all, a Jedi...
Back in the central section, Mission was just getting into her stride. She had run out of genuine quotes and begun to improvise, getting more over-the-top with every passing moment, yet still capturing Bastila's voice and mannerisms almost to perfection. By now the others were practically falling about with laughter; even Juhani, who tried her best to look disapproving, was clearly struggling to conceal her amusement.
It was Jacob who first sensed that something was wrong. He didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching the door, but he felt the sudden jolt of horror through his bond with Bastila – and immediately, without even needing to look around, he knew what had happened. "Mission," he said quietly.
The young girl, still in full flow, saw his expression and abruptly stopped. Six pairs of eyes swivelled towards the doorway, where Bastila stood open-mouthed and seemingly rooted to the spot. Her face, chalk-white from the initial shock, was rapidly flushing a deep and livid shade of red.
She moved her lips as if to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Jacob, the first to recover his presence of mind, leapt up from his seat. "Bastila – " But it was too late; the young woman had turned on her heel and stalked off, leaving a circle of rather guilty faces behind her.
"Oops." Mission's cheeks had turned slightly pink. "Guess I got a little carried away."
Almost instinctively, everyone's eyes turned towards Jacob. He saw the pleading look in Mission's face, and stood up with a sigh of resignation. "I'll go and talk to her, shall I?"
-----
Bastila flung herself face-down on her bunk, utterly humiliated and almost shaking with suppressed rage. To think that she had chided herself for being unfriendly to them! She had hardly been expecting a joyful welcome from her crewmates, but finding herself treated with such undisguised contempt and derision cut straight to her heart.
What could she possibly have done to earn this from them? They were no better than a bunch of vicious schoolchildren, always needing some victim to gang up on. Not that she'd expected anything more from Mission or Canderous, but Jacob... She ground her teeth as she thought of how he'd pretended to take her seriously, asking her about her family and background, only to mock her and ridicule her behind her back. So much for his feigned 'interest' in her, she thought angrily; she wouldn't fall for that one again.
As if on cue, she heard footsteps approaching the cabin door and sensed him enter the room. He walked cautiously up to the bunk, bent over her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Bastila?"
She flinched at his touch as if it burned her, and he withdrew his hand instantly. "Bastila," he said softly. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"
Furious as she was, Bastila was determined not to let him see how much his apparent betrayal had affected her. With an effort, she composed her features into a relatively neutral expression and rolled over onto her side, raising herself up onto her elbow. "Yes?" she asked coolly, fixing him with a look of chilly indifference.
"Listen." He sat down next to her on the bed, his sudden closeness making her feel strangely trapped. "I'm sorry about what happened back there, but it wasn't what you thought. Mission was doing impressions of all of us, not just you."
She tossed her head disdainfully, as if to imply that she found the whole thing ridiculous. "What in the world makes you think I care?"
"What, apart from the fact that you're obviously hurt and upset?" Already she could sense him losing patience with her, but she was too angry and mortified to care.
"You're mistaken, Jacob." Her voice was the perfect blend of quiet scorn and icy dignity. "How you choose to amuse yourselves is of no concern whatsoever to me. I have better things to do with my time."
"Like lying around and feeling sorry for yourself?" When she failed to reply, he slapped a hand against the covers in frustration. "Fine," he said curtly, standing up to leave. "I'll leave you to it then, shall I? Forgive me for trying to apologise; I'll know better next time."
Bastila ground her teeth as she heard his footsteps retreat down the corridor, more incensed at him than ever. How dare he come in here and try to fob her off with some pathetic excuse? Did he think her a complete imbecile? In her rage and indignation, it didn't even occur to her that had she thought to try, she could very easily have determined whether or not he was telling the truth.
She knew he must be able to sense how angry she was, but she certainly wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her admit it. Let him suspect what he liked! She rolled back onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow, determined to block out all thoughts of what had just occurred. There is no emotion there is peace, there is no emotion there is peace...
The others looked up as Jacob returned, and his posture and expression left them in no doubt about what had happened. "No luck?" enquired Carth sympathetically.
"None." Jacob sank back into his chair with a sigh. "Maybe I'll try again later once she's cooled off a little."
Canderous looked at him in disbelief. "Why bother? If she wants to sulk, let her."
Jacob couldn't work up the energy to reply. In truth, he wasn't sure himself why he cared so much. He knew very well that Bastila was behaving unreasonably – and yet he couldn't avoid the sneaking feeling that he had hurt her badly, and that in a way she had every right to be angry with him. Jedi or not, she was only human, and no one would have reacted well to what she thought she had seen.
He was annoyed at himself for encouraging Mission's antics, and even more annoyed that Bastila hadn't wanted to listen to his explanation. He had no idea why it mattered so much to him, but rightly or wrongly, it did.
-----
That night, as they approached Tatooine, Jacob's restless sleep was disturbed by a vision similar to the one he had seen on Dantooine. He found himself in some kind of cave, dark and cramped, the sand-strewn floor littered with vaguely skeletal shapes that sent a chill down his spine as he looked at them. At its centre was the metal base of another Star Map, weirdly out of place amongst the rocks and sand. The ancient machinery whirred into life as he watched, opening up to reveal the holographic map that glowed eerily in the darkness...
He woke abruptly to find daylight filtering in through the blinds; they must have landed on Tatooine. Almost immediately the memory of last night's events returned to him and he groaned, dreading the prospect of finding Bastila in a bad mood. He could only hope that she had calmed down overnight and begun to see sense at last.
He needn't have worried. As it happened, Bastila was already beginning to regret her actions of the night before. The vision she had shared with Jacob reminded her of the massive task they faced, and their petty quarrels seemed utterly trivial in comparison – particularly as she realised that Jacob had probably been telling her the truth.
Back then, her anger and resentment had blinded her to anything except a sense of wounded innocence. Now, in the cold light of day, her own behaviour seemed childish and petulant. What she should have done, she realised, was to laugh it off and act as if nothing had happened – that way her dignity would have remained intact, and any embarrassment would be left to their part. But of course, it was always easy to see this sort of thing in retrospect...
The best course of action, she decided, would be to forget about it and never mention the occurrence again. Accordingly, she said a polite 'good morning' to Mission and Juhani – both of whom looked ever so slightly relieved – and went about her usual routine with as businesslike an air as possible. The minute she ran into Jacob she began to speak, determined to pre-empt any discussion of the previous night's events.
"The Force has given us a vision," she said quietly. "Like the one we shared on Dantooine. Did you see it?" She went on before he had a chance to speak. "Of course... you must have. The Force is strong with us both."
Jacob noticed the meaningful look in her eyes, and she felt his relief as he realised that this was her way of declaring a truce. He nodded and gave her a faint smile, clearly to convey that he understood. "It seemed to be in some kind of cave," he remarked, in the same deliberately neutral tone. "Do you know of anything like that around here?"
She shook her head. "Tatooine is known for little but blowing sand. I find it surprising that there should be a Star Map here."
"Maybe it wasn't always a desert?" he suggested. "If it's been here for tens of thousands of years..."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, perhaps. There could be many such caves and caverns hidden throughout the Dune Sea."
"So we have to search the entire planet?" They looked at each other, aghast. "I can't believe Revan and Malak did that. There has to be a better way."
There had to be, but she certainly couldn't immediately think of one. "I suppose there must be," she said eventually. "All we can hope is that the Force will lead us to it."
"Well, it hasn't failed us yet, has it?"
He smiled down at her, his dark eyes twinkling, and somehow she found herself smiling back. There was something infectious about his optimism, something which reverberated inside her and filled her with a sudden rush of warmth. No wonder he found it so easy to get on with people, whereas she always seemed to end up driving them away... She felt more guilty than ever about losing her temper with him, and immediately resolved to try and be more relaxed in future.
Her resolve, unfortunately, did not last long. As Jacob headed for the cockpit to speak with Carth, Bastila turned around and saw Canderous standing in the doorway; he had clearly been observing their conversation for some time. "So, Princess," he began, with a leer she found particularly offensive. "What's he got that I haven't?"
"Good looks, charm and a sense of morality," she replied coolly.
"And a big lightsaber, I suppose." His voice dripped with suggestion. Bastila was on the point of responding with a biting rebuke, when a better idea occurred to her.
"Yes, Canderous," she said calmly, with a tight little smile. "That's certainly another thing you haven't got."
Canderous let out a faint snort and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ooh, bitchy," he murmured, and then his eyes lit up as he saw Jacob returning from the cockpit. "Hey, Jacob! Bastila was just telling me how good-looking she thinks you are."
The Jedi glanced at her in disbelief, and she felt the blood rushing to her face once more. "I was not – oh, for Force's sake!" She turned and stormed out of the room, Jedi serenity and composure completely forgotten. The Mandalorian rolled his eyes as Jacob hurried off after her, pausing only to throw a stern glance in his direction.
Jacob caught up with her near her cabin and grasped her by the arm. "Bastila." She attempted to shake him off, but he pulled her around to face him. "Why do you let him get to you like that?" he asked, exasperated.
She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. "I don't know," she said at last. "I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. Everything he says disgusts me."
"Yes, and he knows it." Jacob shook his head in frustration. "You're playing into his hands, Bastila!"
"I know," she said again, with a weary sigh. "I'm sorry. I realise I've been a little overwrought, lately..." Though she wasn't about to say it, they both knew what she was referring to.
"I'm sorry about last night," he said softly. "Really." She nodded, and he gave her arm a gentle squeeze; then, just as she was about to turn away, she saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly. "Oh, and just for the record: I think you're gorgeous."
He was rewarded by seeing her blush to the roots of her hair.
-----
The first thing that hit them as they stepped out of the ship was a fierce light, so bright after the semi-darkness of the ship that it was almost blinding. The second was a blast of heat that practically knocked them backwards. "Is it always as hot as this?" gasped Mission, trying to shield her eyes from the blazing sun.
"Two suns, remember?" murmured Carth.
Jacob nodded. "Better get used to it," he said, with a mirthless smile. "It's not even midday yet." Zaalbar, whose thick, shaggy fur was already heating his body to uncomfortable temperatures, let out a faint groan.
A uniformed Czerka official hurried up to them as they walked down the ramp. "Welcome to Anchorhead, potential customers!" he exclaimed, fixing them with a smile as large and wide as it was obviously fake. "Czerka Corporation stands ready to serve... after some formalities, of course."
"What kind of formalities?" Jacob asked warily.
"Well, for a start, your ship is not on our list of planned arrivals for today," explained the man. "There is a docking fee of 100 credits because of this."
Carth let out a whistle. "100 credits just for docking our ship? Why don't you just get us to empty out our wallets right here?"
The man's smile faded into a slight frown. "We have to recoup our costs somehow," he said tersely. "And I assure you that the fee is non-negotiable. We have a very thin margin of profit on this world."
"Mining not going well?" enquired Jacob innocently.
The man shifted uncomfortably, and Jacob guessed that he had hit a nerve. "I can't get into that, I'm afraid," he murmured. "Official Czerka business. Now, if you could just hand over the fee..."
"We don't need to pay, I think," stated the Jedi, his voice pleasant but firm. "We can spend the money in your stores instead." He made a brief gesture towards the Czerka rep with his right hand, and a slightly glazed look came over the man's eyes.
"I guess you don't need to pay," he agreed. "You can spend the money in our stores instead. Ask at our office if you need anything."
He walked off towards the gates, leaving the others staring open-mouthed at Jacob. The other Jedi looked shocked, and Carth slightly uncomfortable, but Mission's eyes were dancing with glee. "Wow," she murmured, shaking her head. "I can be pretty convincing when I have to be, but that mind-trick is something else!"
Bastila, however, was fuming. She glared furiously at Jacob, and he realised with a sinking heart that he had just squandered all the goodwill he'd earned from her earlier on. "Are you insane?" she hissed, the moment the man was out of earshot. "What do you think you're doing, using the Force to cheat people out of money?"
He met her gaze without flinching. "I know exactly what I'm doing," he said levelly. "Firstly, 100 credits for a docking fee is daylight robbery. Secondly, I've seen what Czerka gets up to in the Outer Rim, and I'm not going to pay those core-slimes a single credit more than I absolutely have to. All right?"
"No, it is not all right," she snapped, ignoring the groans and exaggerated eye-rolls from her non-Jedi crewmates. "I have no love for Czerka, but Jedi are supposed to act fairly and honourably at all times. Using your powers for personal gain is both immoral and dangerous!"
"She speaks the truth, Padawan," agreed Juhani, her voice quiet but unexpectedly serious. "You should not abuse your powers in this way."
Jacob threw up his hands in exasperation. "You're suggesting that one tiny deviation from the Code is going to start me down the path to the Dark Side?"
"Yes, that is exactly what I'm suggesting," the young woman retorted.
He held her gaze stubbornly, determined not to back down. She stared back at him with equal obstinacy, and the argument might have gone on for some time if it hadn't been for the sudden intrusion of a middle-aged Twi'lek woman. She was dressed in hunting gear and peering closely at Bastila, almost as if she recognised her.
"Excuse me, dear," she trilled, oblivious to the grim expression on the young Jedi's face. "But aren't you Helena's little girl?" Yes, I'm sure you are – I can see it in your eyes."
Bastila broke off from her silent duel with Jacob and regarded her coldly. "I am Bastila, yes," she replied, without enthusiasm. "I take it that you know my mother?"
"Oh yes, dear. I worked for her on an expedition, years ago." The woman beamed at her, as if she were a long-lost friend. "She showed me holos of you before you... well, before you left. Such a pretty little girl you were!"
The others were struggling to hide their smiles by now, and Bastila herself looked distinctly unimpressed. "Is there something I can do for you, miss?" she enquired, making no attempt to disguise her impatience. "As you can see, we are in quite a hurry."
"Oh, I didn't mean to take up your time," the woman said apologetically. "I just wanted to ask you if your mother's condition has improved since I last saw her."
The young Jedi's face turned several shades paler, and Jacob sensed her tense up a little. "My mother's condition?"
"Then... you don't know?" The Twi'lek shook her head in dismay. "Oh, dear. It's just that since you were here, I assumed she'd found you..."
Bastila took a deep breath. "No, I haven't seen my mother since I joined the Order. Is she here on Tatooine?" The woman nodded. "Did she say anything about my father?"
"No, dear. All she told me that she was very ill." The woman gestured in the direction of Anchorhead. "She should be in the cantina, if you want to see her..."
The entire group stared after her in astonishment as she walked off. "How many more long-lost relatives are we going to find on this planet?" muttered Canderous, shaking his head. The others raised their eyebrows and shrugged, equally bemused.
Jacob turned back to Bastila. "So are you going to look for her?" he asked softly, remembering how she had spoken about her mother back on Dantooine.
"Perhaps," she replied quietly. "Part of me would rather not see her at all. But if she is really ill..."
"You think she would lie about it?"
The young woman shrugged. "My mother used to lie about many things to get her way. But perhaps I am judging her too harshly." Before he could say anything else, she turned back to the others. "In any case, we have other matters to attend to first. Shall we proceed?"
They set off towards the gates, trying to stay as much in the shade as possible. Jacob remained in the rear by Bastila's side, wondering what she was thinking. He was surprised and a little concerned by her reaction to hearing about her mother's illness, and though he could sense little through their bond, he got the impression that her own feelings on the matter were somewhat confused. Did she really believe her mother was lying?
Still, he thought, at least it had briefly taken her mind off being angry with him. Perhaps he should be thankful for small mercies...