The Swoop Garage Ebon Hawk
Canderous stood by the workbench in the Ebon Hawk's swoop hanger. Surrounded by tools and weaponry, the Mandalorian was in his element diligently maintaining, repairing and upgrading their equipment with expert hands and a plasma torch.
He looked up when Pol entered. He hadn't seen her all day. "I fixed the rend Davik put in your combat suit, using the materials I had to hand. It's not great, but passable."
Pol spied the bed Canderous had laid out in the corner of the garage. He had taken to sleeping there after the first night. Pol's life as far back as she could recall divided itself between bursts of activity and spates of rest. The pattern was deeply ingrained. Pol loved her action but she was the consummate creature of comfort in her respite. Pol automatically made her way the cushiest spot in the room and lay out. "Thank you." She said as her head hit the pillow.
"Get off my bed!" Canderous growled halfheartedly.
"Yeah yeah make me" Pol replied insolently rolling onto her side.
"You ok Pol?" He asked, stowing his tools and wiping his hands on a cloth.
"Yeah just beyond tired; did the stores get loaded ok?" Pol inquired pragmatically.
"Eventually. I put your kid and your Wookiee to work, didn't think you'd mind. "
"Ha, I bet they loved that. Two questions for you Chief, one: What do you think of Tatooine and two: Are you ok out here all by yourself?"
"Answer one: Tatooine is a dustbowl with rocks sticking out there is nothing there, unless you like hunting. Answer two: I'm not one for card games and I am running out of reasons not to slap Bastila so I figure the garage is a good place for me. My turn to ask questions." He took a breath "Question one: Why the sudden interest in Tatooine and two: Are you offering me your charming company?" Canderous arched a brow in Pol's direction.
"Answer one: Mission's brother Griff is reportedly on Tatooine and I promised her we'd find him and answer two: Sure why not, for a price."
"You're a softie Valor." He accused "Tatooine? Bah."
"Yeah I know, but what ya gonna do about it?" Pol challenged as she un-wound her hair poetically.
Canderous watched her movements with an almost chemical enthrallment. Hmmm. "Fine we'll go to Tatooine; we might be able to pick up some work there. So what kind of price did you have in mind?"
"For my company?" Pol's grin blazed in the artificial light, "War stories and lots of 'em. You must have millions. I want to hear about what you did during the Mandalorian wars."
"Hah! I knew you were the type. Sure I'll indulge you."
"Excellent! Comfy bed, the soothing voice of an accomplished story teller… I'll be asleep in no time." Pol sat up on one elbow with a grin, just in time to catch the grease stained rag Canderous threw at her face. "Eww. I was kidding! Ordo, seriously, please tell me your stories."
"You really wanna hear?" Canderous asked feeling slightly affronted.
"Yes I really wanna hear," Pol said honestly. She shook her hair over one shoulder and settled in for a good yarn. Canderous took a seat opposite her on a Plasteel crate and began his tale.
Hours Later
It was getting late and Bastila had stopped by to remind Pol of their dawn meeting with the Jedi Council. Bastila wasn't the only one who had 'dropped by' while Canderous told his tale and the pair were beginning to feel quite 'checked on'. Carth and Zaalbar had also dropped past on make believe errands to chaperone the errant scout.
"I should probably let you have your bed back." Pol said sitting up after the last intruder left.
"Probably," He said as he yawned into his sleeve. He offered his hand and Pol took it to haul herself up off the low mattress. A moment of awkwardness split the air between them as they stood face to face just inches apart.
"Goodnight." She said abruptly, dropping Canderous's hand, nerves jangling.
He watched her leave, then reclaimed his bed, beating the pillow savagely to remove the slight impression her head had made. Bah I think about her too much as is without smelling her all night long.He thought, shaking the sheets straight.
First Light
Pol sat in the galley sipping her caffa with a grim determination. She was soon joined by Canderous who was one of those types that take more pleasure in early mornings than most people consider polite. Pol put this down to his military upbringing as she winced. The big thug hummed cheerily as he wrangled his breakfast with brute force from the food synthesizer, making far more noise than anyone else on the ship deemed necessary. At last he poured a cup of caffa and scrutinized his traveling companion.
"You didn't sleep well." He noticed, smile fading.
"Hmm? How did you know?" Pol did not like mornings.
"Ha-ha no more war stories for you before bed time." Canderous laughed heartily. He indicated the bags below Pol's eyes and said, "Matching luggage, a dead giveaway."
"Thanks Canderous. Like I didn't feel old and frumpy enough already with Mission around. Not to mention young Bastila bustling about in her gauzy custom made Jedi robes looking like some militaristic joy-girl." Pol sulked draining her cup. She's so much prettier than me.
Dismissing her rant as nonsense Canderous set his cup down, "I hear you could have some of you own." He mentioned casually as he took a swig of caffa.
"Pfft, not likely, I'm not their type. That's why I didn't mention it last night." Pol was making a detailed search of the bottom of her cup. Made in Ara-somethingorother.
"I wouldn't be too sure Pol. Hell even the exchange could see what a valuable asset you could be and they're dumber than a Coruscant granite slug."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I hear they only take children and vestal virgins, the pure of heart."
"Well I know you're not entirely pure of heart, but you are the sappiest person I have ever considered a friend, and by far the most worthy of the Jedi mantle."
"Now what makes you say that?" Pol glowed internally from the praise, but still looked outwardly feeble from her hellish night.
"You make 'good' choices. You fight well and you show a great deal of compassion, even if you don't mean to and you rarely loose your cool."
"Isn't compassion a Mandalorian sign of weakness?" Pol asked.
"Not at all, some fights are not worthy of a warrior. Take these Mandalorian scraps raiding the local farms."
"You gonna to take them out?" Pol inquired.
"Hell yes, the cowards. I start today. They are the scum who could not stand defeat and fled the final battles. They do us no credit." Anger flashed behind his grey eyes for a moment. "Pol it is not a weakness to stand by your convictions."
"Ahh so next time we argue I shouldn't back down then?" Pol said jokingly.
"Ha, you should if you're wrong! So what kept you awake? Bad dreams? Did I miss another midnight screaming match with Bastila? I hope I wasn't responsible for that."
"No you weren't… Bastila and I are talking again I'm even back in the bunkroom. It wasn't dreams exactly, something worse."
"Visions." Canderous guessed. He looked disturbed.
"Got it in one Chief. I better go if I want to make this dawn meeting with the council."
Pol handed her empty cup to Canderous with a grim smile and stalked off to meet her fate. I really should apologize to Bastila again.
Canderous frowned at the cup. That cheeky tart I'm not her slave. He told himself. But he put the cup in the washer, all the same.
………………….
When Pol arrived in the council chambers, Bastila was already present. Pol's consolation was that she looked terrible too. "You didn't sleep well?" She whispered to Bastila.
"No and nor did you." The Jedi returned before shushing her.
"You and Bastila share a special Force bond. Given your aptitude for the Force and this verity we believe it is necessary for you to be trained in the ways of the Force." Master Zhar announced.
"I still don't see why." Pol said.
"For many reasons, among those is your safety and hers."
"Then that is enough of a reason." Pol acquiesced. "I don't want to put her in danger." I have already upset her enough.
New Plans, Old Plans
For hours after the decision Pol had sat under the oddly familiar tree alone thinking; Maybe this is alright. Maybe these impulses will pass. Maybe I think too much. Maybe there will still be a way to reunite Mission with her brother. Maybe Canderous won't leave…
Pol wasn't as keen on the idea of becoming a Jedi as everyone thought she should be. The list of reasons 'why not' seemed as long as her arm and her arm seemed to be getting longer with each passing hour.
After her morning of contemplation Pol decided it was time to seek out company again. She made her way to the Ebon Hawk and paused behind the door of the galley to listen to the conversation inside, timing her entrance accordingly.
"I don't get this at all." Said Carth Onasi, "I mean isn't she a little old for this Bastila? What does the Jedi council want with her?"
"Carth I can't speak to you about this openly, it is a Jedi matter. Pol is linked to me through the Force and if she is to join me in my fight to destroy the Sith then she must be Jedi trained."
"Fair enough, but I still feel like I'm being left out of the loop." Carth complained.
"I think she will make a great Jedi." Mission, said enthusiastically as Pol entered the galley.
"Thanks Mission." Pol had her doubts but thanked Mission all the same.
"Canderous has not returned from his 'project' and the day is getting on." Carth informed Pol.
"I'll go out after him." Pol offered eager for an excuse to be physically active.
"Master Zhar has instructed you to stay close to the enclave. I don't think you should travel further the space port just now." Bastila reminded Pol with an impatient sigh. "Alright, if the bloody Mandalorian means so much to you I suppose I could go have a look for him." She offered ungraciously, but with a note of compassion.
"Look for who?" Canderous asked stamping his boots clean on the boarding ramp. He held the masked head of a Mandalorian raider in one hand and a half used med pack in the other.
"DON'T YOU DARE BRING THAT THING IN HERE!" Bastila Yelled.
Canderous examined the contents of his hands theatrically. After a moment he pointedly threw the half used med pack out the loading door and made his way to the garage with the severed head dripping blood past Bastila as he went.
"I meant the other thing." Bastila said icily.
"Are you going to play a game of 'whose ship is this anyway?' now?" Mission asked. "Cuz if you are I think me and Zaalbar have some where else to be." Mission took her leave of the debacle and Zaalbar trailed after mumbling about his lunch.
"That's not a bad question." Carth said angrily.
"It's the Republics ship." Bastila said. "And he can't do that here. Pol, tell him he can't do that here."
"Do what? Save the local farmers form a bunch of murdering raping thugs that the Jedi refuse to acknowledge? Some one has to protect these people Bastila. The Jedi are all fine and la di ah about using their land for a secret enclave that's very existence endangers them, but when they ask for a little help defending themselves the Jedi turn their backs." Pol felt her ire building she spat her words and when it passed she took a deep breath to soothe herself. See now this is exactly why I would make a bad Jedi.
"The Sith would never dare to attack the enclave here." Bastila said.
"Bastila, you've seen what these Sith monsters can do, I wouldn't be too sure." Carth looked saddened by the thought. "We never thought they would destroy Telos or Taris but they did. I think Pol has a point."
"The Jedi do not rush into such things without due consideration." Bastila said.
"How long are they going to sit on their hands? Till all the civilians in this sector are dead? They made their decision about me pretty darn quickly. If that wasn't rushed I don't know what is." Pol delivered her message sharply, trying to hold back a stray tear.
"That was not a-" Bastila stopped mid sentence.
"Not a what?" Pol asked almost choking.
"Never mind the matters of Jedi are not for you to question."
"No go on, what were you saying? That was not a what?" Carth pushed Bastila to answer, there was so much the woman wouldn't tell him, but the young Jedi waved him away and left the ship.
Pol went to the cleaning cupboard. Removing the fresh trail of blood seemed the only thing she could think to do that didn't involve a flood of tears, hers or anyone else's.
…………………
"Sorry about the mess. I had forgotten I was still holding the head. I didn't intend on bringing it inside, but Bastila's paroxysm drove me to it." Canderous apologized to Pol awkwardly.
"That's ok it was pretty funny. But can you throw it out soon? You know before it starts to smell or attract bugs…" Pol was a natural born antagonist herself and they shared a dark sense of humor.
"I already did. So they tell me you're going to be a Jedi."
"I don't really want to talk about this." Pol wrung out her cleaning rag into the bucket of water stiffly. She hadn't cried, but still felt close to it. It had all been such a shock.
"Maybe that means you should talk about it." Canderous took the cloth from Pol's hands and tore it in two. He passed half back to Pol and began scouring the floor clean with his portion. "So it's not what you want?" He asked.
"I have no clue what I want. I feel so manipulated I can't tell. I don't know what else I thought I was going to do but it wasn't this." She gave a dry laugh and sat back on her heels folding and unfolding the cloth in her blood stained hands meditatively.
"What about Tatooine?" He prompted. "It sounded like a good plan, a bit soft, but not terrible."
"Exactly, frack I feel awful for Mission, I promised her. I'm such an ass."
"Well you won't be in training forever."
"No I guess I won't but I had this plan…"
"Oh yeah?" He asked.
"Yeah. I was going to hitch a ride with this Mandalorian I know, but I doubt he will be here when I am done training."
"So what were you and this Mandalorian going to do with a Wookiee and a Twi'lek in tow?"
"Find the Twi'lek's brother; maybe hustle up a little bounty work…Swoop racing…"
"Hmm, well the ride wouldn't have been possible." Canderous said.
"Why not?"
"The Republic has confiscated the Ebon Hawk. I don't have a ship."
"Oh no, don't tell me your stuck here?" She said smiling for the first time since her sentence had been handed down.
"Afraid so, but I don't mind for now. It's going to take me a month or two to empty the plains of raiders by myself." Canderous resumed cleaning.
"I admire what you're doing."
"Hell I should clean more often."
"Pfft. You know what I mean. I wish I could help, but the way I see it Jedi don't do that kind of thing."
"What do they do?" He asked.
"Prok all it seems. I don't think there's much chance they will send me to Tatooine once I'm done here either."
"Ha! Look Mission will understand Champ. Don't kill yourself over it. You know… I can imagine them sending you off on covert missions to assassinate Malak and destroy the Sith." Canderous smirked, but there was eagerness to his eyes. Pol recognized it instantly, hope for a decent battle.
"All I know is I am supposedly linked with Bastila through the Force and so they want me to work with her."
"Work with? More like baby-sit I think. Poor Pol." He sounded genuinely sympathetic, and that came as a shock to her.
"It's just so sudden and weird." Pol said as she resumed the mop up.
"Well when you finish your training and they send you offworld on some suicidal undertaking, I wouldn't mind a lift."
"Where to?" Pol bit her lip, and stared intently at the mess on the floor.
"Anywhere the action is, and since it seems to follow Jedi's, I guess that would be anywhere with you." Canderous trailed off at the end of his sentence; Bastila was standing behind them.
"Pol. A word." Bastila snapped; turning on her heel and leaving the craft once more.
In a low but teasing voice Canderous said "You better go. think I got you in trouble with your new mentor…"
"Yeah good one you daft monkey lizard! I'll get you back later." Pol threatened with a sinister cackle.
"Pfft. Promises promises. I'll be here if you want something done right." Canderous laughed rinsing his cleaning rag.
………………………………
Bastila rounded on Pol. "What were you doing with the Mandalorian?"
"We were talking, friends do that. Make some and you'll see."
"Are we back to this stand off again Pol? You have to learn to control your emotions better than that."
"Oh more like you do?" Pol said slowly.
"Don't bait me Pol. I'm trying to warn you. Attachments, strong attachments lead only to the dark side of the Force."
"I'm sorry; I will try to remember that Padawan Bastila." But it won't be easy.