This chapter is an immediate continuation of the last. This will also be the last update for this week, as I'll be in a basketball tournament in Dallas for the whole friggin' time. Oh well. Hope you like it!

Oh, and when you get to the Star Map part, I couldn't remember all of the questions that the hologram asked, so I think I ended up leaving out one of them. Just a heads up.


"Master," Malak said, exhaustion evident in his voice. "We cannot go on for much longer. We've searched everywhere, and the Star Map is nowhere to be found. We're nearly out of water, we've been out of food for days, and...this...this is pointless!"

Revan was at Malak in an instant, choking him with the Force, their faces inches apart. "How dare you question me?" Revan's voice said, distorted by the mask he wore. The filter caused it to be deep and menacing, perfect for a Sith Lord. "The Star Map is down here somewhere, and we are not leaving until we find it! And if I have to leave you here to die, I will. Your weakness disgusts me. You claim to be my apprentice, yet you have learned nothing from what I have taught you."

The Sith Lord tossed Malak aside contemptuously, leaving him writhing on the ground, gasping for air.

"For...forgive me...my lord. I should not have spoken."

Revan ignored his apprentice and continued to walk, reaching a small clearing. Turning right, he stopped in front of a huge structure.

"Finally," Revan spoke, triumph flooding his voice. "See Malak? I am seldom ever wrong. I should punish you for your lack of faith, but I do not wish for you to perish just yet."

And then it stopped. Vincent had been standing, unmoving for a solid two minutes, staring vacantly into space.

"Dammit boy, snap out of it!" Jolee said while slapping his face roughly. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I...I know where the Star Map is," he said shakily. "Follow me."

"Aren't we supposed to be talking to Freyyr?" Jolee asked.

"Yes, that is important, but we are on a mission from the Jedi Council to locate these Star Maps in an effort to stop Malak," Bastila explained. They had now reached the same structure Vincent had seen in his vision, and Jolee was saying something in his usual grumpy manner.

"I knew where this thing was. I wouldn't have brought you down here if I didn't."

Vincent ignored the old man and stepped up to the hologram that was floating on a small platform.

"Sentient life forms recognized. Preliminary neural scan complete. Match found."

"What the-match found? The thing always said something about 'rejected patterns' for me!" Jolee said in a huff.

"How do I open the Star Map?" Vincent asked.

"Access denied. Probability of restriction by previous user: 100 percent. You do not match the exact patterns found in my database. Reconfiguration must take place. You must be tested."

"If I pass this test, can I access the Star Map?"

"I cannot say. Probability of that occurring is high."

"And if I fail?"

"Then you will be dealt with."

"Ok...start the test then."

"Hypothetical: You and this Zaalbar are captured. You face charges of murder and treason. If you accuse Zaalbar, face either two years in prison if he is innocent, or none if he is found guilty. If you both stay silent, you face either one year in prison, or five if you are guilty. What do you do?"

Vincent was slightly alarmed. He didn't really know that much about Zaalbar...and his family did have issues with lies. "I would accuse Zaalbar to be safe."

"Correct. Zaalbar's family is mired in treachery, and you wisely trade the possibility of two years for none. Evaluation will continue. Hypothetical: You are the leader of the Republic, and you are at war. Your spies intercept a transmission that says there will be a weakness in the enemy's forces in ten days. Said enemy will attack your city in five days. What do you do?"

Vincent quickly sized up the possibilities in his head. "My forces attack in ten days."

"Correct. If you had evacuated the city, the enemy would have been alerted to its lost transmission. You wisely allowed the loss of life for the ultimate victory. Evaluation will continue. Hypothetical: Same situation as before, but you are not at war. Your Republic has stagnant and decaying, and your people have grown complacent. Your enemies are small and weak, but you learn that they will attack you in five days. What do you do?"

"I let the attack happen," Vincent answered.

"Correct. Your people will rally under you against the common threat. Evaluation complete. Neural reconfiguration complete. Welcome. You may now access the Star Map. Shutting off."

The Star Map began to hum, and it opened. A projection of the galaxy appeared, and Vincent downloaded it on his data pad. Turning, he found that Bastila was staring at him, her expression unreadable.

"What?"

"The way you answered those questions...people died, Vincent. You sacrificed innocent lives."

His eyes narrowed, and he pointed a finger at her. "Have you ever fought in a war?"

"No, but I don't see – "

"Then don't tell me how to play with people's lives."

Bastila looked at Jolee who simply shrugged. "You ready to see Freyyr now?" he asked Vincent.

"Yeah, let's go."

Jolee was in front of the group with Vincent and Bastila lagging behind.

"Did I say something to upset you?" Bastila asked.

He looked at her, an apology written on his features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just don't really like being reminded of the Mandalorian Wars. I...I had to make those kinds of decisions. Who lives and who dies. It's hard to live with knowing you killed good, innocent men, just to win a battle. But let's talk about this later, ok? I just want to deal with Freyyr right now."

Bastila nodded. She should have remembered that he fought in the Mandalorian Wars. How could she forget? That was the whole reason he was here with them now. Well, that and the fact that his best friend betrayed him. Her thoughts were interrupted by the menacing growl of an angry Wookie.

(Even the depths of the Shadowlands are not safe from your kind!)

"All these years down here have made him nearly feral," Jolee said sadly. "This won't be good."

Freyyr didn't wait for them to explain their presence, he simply attacked wildly, giving them little choice but to fight back. Though the Wookie was incredibly strong, he was no match for three Jedi.

(You have beaten me. Please, end my suffering quickly, or let me live if you find a purpose for me yet.)

"I don't want to kill you! My name is Vincent, and my friend Zaalbar needs your help," Vincent said, hoping that would get through to Freyyr.

(My son is alive? Then Chuundar must be stopped. There is one thing I can think of that might sway my people's favor. If I can appeal to their sense of tradition, maybe I can get them to see Chuundar's lies. But I must ask something of you Vincent.)

"I'll help in any way I can."

(You must find Bacca's blade. It was lost in a ceremonial beast fight a generation ago. The young Wookie that participated escaped with his life, but the blade stayed lodged in the creature's hide. You must face the creature and bring back the blade. It is the only way I can save my people, and my son.)

Vincent had seen a small cul-de-sac that looked as if it served ceremonial purposes when they had been exploring earlier. If he was to draw out the beast, he was going to need bait. Luckily, he spotted a lone viper kinrath not far from the ritual site. Killing it, he kept the body and made his way back to the ceremonial area where Jolee and Bastila were waiting. Tying the kinrath body to the vine, Vincent waited. His patience was rewarded as the same beast who had destroyed the poacher's camp came crashing through the forest into the clearing.

"A tarentatek," he heard Jolee say. Vincent remembered that the tarentateks had the ability to use the Force, yet had an inborn resistance to it.

"So Force powers are out of the question?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. The only thing that'll do is make it angrier. And it's already really angry."

"Be careful," he said to Bastila.

"Vincent, I have no intention of killing myself."

"Why do you have to argue with me?"

"I'm not – alright, I'll be careful. Happy?"

"No."

The tarentatek was staring at Bastila, and Vincent felt his stomach knot up. He had failed to notice before that the creature had two massive tusks on either side of its mouth, and it was now lowering its head in preparation to charge. Oh damn...

"Bastila MOVE!" He yelled running at her. The tarentatek had begun its charge, and was heading straight for her. She still wasn't moving. "Dammit, get out of the way!"

Bastila had a horrified expression on her face, and seemed to be rooted to the ground. Vincent knew he wasn't going to make it to her in time so he concentrated all of his strength into using the Force to send her flying out of the way into Jolee's waiting arms. Unfortunately, Vincent was unable to stop his momentum, and he was now directly in the path of the rampaging tarentatek. He grunted as the huge creature slammed into him at full speed, one of its tusks finding an unprotected spot in his armor and piercing into his torso.

The tarentatek continued to charge, ramming Vincent into the rock wall behind him, and pushing the tusk further into his body. Impaled and completely helpless, Vincent feebly struggled to free himself from the monster's grasp. Suddenly, the tarentatek roared in pain as two lightsabers began to hack away at its unprotected belly. Shaking its head, the creature flung Vincent from his tusk and whirled on the other two Jedi, but it was too late. The wounds from their blades had done their damage, and it fell to its knees before collapsing on the ground in a pool of its own blood.

"Vincent!" he dimly heard Bastila cry as she ran over to his broken body. Her face obscured his vision, and he blinked to try and refocus. "Oh my God...Jolee, help!" There was worry in her eyes, and fear. "Don't you dare die on me!"

"I...I'll try not to."

"Shut up! I don't want you talking, you're hurt badly and you need to save your strength. Jolee! Help me, damn it!"

"There's nothing I can do," the old man said. "I can't treat an injury of that severity. Do you think he'll make it back to my hut?"

Bastila turned back to him, holding his face gently. "Can you make it?"

Vincent wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her that he could run a marathon if she asked him to, but his body was telling him otherwise. He was slipping, and he knew it. His body was losing a lot of blood, and if it didn't stop soon, he was going to die.

"Not...like this. Need to...stop bleeding," he managed to force out.

"He's right. If we let him keep on like this, he'll bleed to death. We may not be able to heal him on our own, but maybe we can stabilize him," Jolee suggested solemnly.

"We have to try," he heard Bastila say. It was becoming harder for him to concentrate on their voices, and everything around him was growing out of focus and dark. Suddenly, he felt a wave of something course through his body. The pain lessened somewhat, and he could see more clearly than before. "Vincent?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded, knowing that they had bought him some extra time. He didn't remember much of the trip back to Jolee's hut, but it seemed oddly shorter than before. He felt them lowering him onto the ground, and someone's hands fumbling with his armor. Someone forced a horrible tasting liquid down his throat, and something cold and wet was placed over his stomach, presumably where the wound was. He was transferred from the ground to a comfortable bed, and then everything was dark.

Vincent awoke to a dimly lit room and a sharp pain in his stomach. He tried to sit up but was gently pushed back down by a pair of feminine hands.

"Don't get up yet. You're not fully healed." He looked up into Bastila's face. She still looked worried, but now weariness lined her features as well.

"Have you slept?"

She shook her head. "I tried but I couldn't. Not with you in the state you were in."

"How close was I?" he asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Jolee said maybe a few more minutes. After that..." she trailed, unable to continue. He noticed unshed tears in her eyes and he gently brushed a stray hair out of her face.

"I'm still here," he said smiling. "I'm hard to kill, you know that."

She smiled hesitantly as well. "Yes, I am glad for that." Bastila looked away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I didn't think you were going to make it. There was blood everywhere...and you were so pale...it was awful."

"Can I see what that damn thing did to me?"

"As long as you don't strain yourself. Here, I'll help you sit up."

Bastila leaned over and wrapped her arms around his upper body, gingerly pulling up. He sat up slowly, grimacing in pain. Vincent attempted to start undoing the bandage that Jolee had made, but Bastila swatted his hands away.

"What, I'm not strong enough to undo a bandage?"

"No, I just don't want you to pull something you shouldn't. I don't know if the cloth has stuck to the wound or not, and I can see better than you can. Now just sit still."

Vincent watched her as she worked on the bandage, her face the picture of concentration. There were smudges of dirt on her forehead and cheeks, and her much of her hair had pulled loose of the normal pigtails she wore it in and fallen in front of her eyes. To Vincent, her eyes were one of her most stunning features. Set behind dark lashes, they were an icy amalgam of blue-grey, and he had found himself staring at those eyes many times. All he had to do was look at them, and he knew what was going on inside of her. They were passionate, full of emotion, and Vincent thought they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Then again, everything about Bastila was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her lips, her neck, her body...everything.

Knowing where his train of thought was heading, he tried to give attention to something else, but with little success. Her hands had quickly unwrapped the dressing that covered his wound, and Vincent felt her cool fingers against his warm flesh, making him shiver involuntarily.

Bastila noticed this and looked at him anxiously. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He glanced down at his stomach where the telltale signs of a major wound were visible. A large, circle shaped portion of his abdomen was newly formed scar tissue, and it was a pinkish color compared to his tanned skin. "Uh, is that gonna stay like that?"

"Not if we keep the kolto on it."

"Good. I don't need another scar."

She looked at him curiously. "I don't see any scars."

"The light's too low. Here, you might be able to feel some of them," he said, taking her hand and running along his left shoulder and arm. "Never play with vibroblades."

"Mandalorian Wars?"

"Yeah. Most of it's from Dxun."

"How old were you? You must've been quite young."

"I guess so. I was twenty-one, at the beginning of the war, twenty-six by the end."

"I was only sixteen at the start, but I remember it like it was yesterday. How many years has it been since it was over? Four?" She shook her head in amazement. "Time finds a way to slip by you."

Vincent felt...odd. "You're only, what...twenty-five?"

She looked sheepish. "Actually, I just turned twenty-four. I thought you knew that."

"Uh, no. I don't really know anything about you, to be honest. But I'd like to, if you don't mind," he added.

"I guess that's natural considering our bond and everything else. Very well, I'll tell you a little bit about myself. I grew up on Talravin, but I don't remember much about it. I wasn't on good terms with all of my family. I spent most of my young life on a ship, going from one treasure hunt to the next. My father was a treasure hunter, you see. He was a good man though, kind and gentle, and he doted on me."

"So I'm assuming you didn't like your mother?"

"No, I didn't. She was always pushing my father into one hunt after another, constantly looking to live in wealth and luxury. She drove my father too hard, and I hated her for it. She was happy when the Jedi Order came for me, and I can't say that I miss her much."

"I'm sorry. That must've been hard for you to live like that."

"It was all I knew as a child, so I didn't think much about it. But that's why the Jedi Order is right in severing ties with families once you are accepted. Relationships are fraught with powerful emotions, and a Jedi must avoid that. Even love can lead to folly."

"So you're saying Jedi aren't capable of loving?" he asked.

"Even Jedi cannot always ignore the feelings of the heart," she said softly. "But enough about me and my family. What about you? I know little other than what your service records reported."

He had been dreading this question. "Uh, well, you know I grew up on Deralia. Boring planet, lots of rock. Many different species passed through the spaceports though, and I learned a lot of different languages real early in life. I...I don't remember much of my childhood. From what I can recall, my mother was the central figure in my life. She was soft spoken and never complained. She was also stubborn as hell and had a strong spirit and a good heart."

He stopped and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "My father...to put it lightly, he was a drunk. Everything he had went to alcohol, but I think that it wasn't always like that. He raised me right though, I can't blame him for that. I forget what he did for a living, but it was enough to get by. My mother was very unconfrontational, so she and my dad never fought much, but when they did...man, it was scary. I used to lie in my bed for hours listening to them go at it, wondering what it was that was big enough to push my mother over the edge. For as screwed up as my family was, it was still home. I ended up joining the military later, and I got caught up in the Mandalorian War."

"What happened?"

"I was stationed on Dxun, and as you probably know, that was where some of the heaviest fighting of the entire war took place. The Jedi had finally decided to get off their collective asses-no offense-and help us out. I...I met a Jedi there, on Dxun. She was...perfect, but I was young and stupid, so that doesn't mean much now. It was lonely out there, and there was just something about her...but to get to the point, we fell in love. She didn't think much of the rule about no emotional attachments, and I wasn't going to argue. Everything was fine until the final battle up on Dxun. The Mandalorians came at us, wave after wave, relentless, and we lost a lot of men. I didn't find out until a week later that she had been killed in that battle. I didn't so much as glance at another woman for a year after that, but I eventually learned to cope and got on with my life. And here I stand; now relating my incredibly boring life story to you."

"What was her name?" Bastila asked quietly.

"Brynn. I never learned her last name. They wouldn't allow me to access the records on her after her death."

"I'm sorry. That must be painful for you to talk about."

He smiled grimly. "Better out than in and you deserve to know. It's not so much that she died that day that hurts now, but the fact that I still remember the fight we had before being called up to go. The last thing I said to her was that she was being a pretentious bitch. Not good parting words."

They both went silent for a while, pondering what the other had said. Soon, Vincent became restless and got up to stretch and walk around. He stretched gingerly, any sudden movements causing pain to shoot across his abdomen. He also wondered where Jolee was, but decided not to bring it up.

Bastila watched him stretch in fascination. She had known that he was powerfully built, but she still wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her eyes. Vincent was long, lean and muscular, and his movements carried an air of deadly grace. Every muscle was toned and defined, and Bastila could see them sliding smoothly under his skin with every shift of his body. She remembered the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers, and she had strong desire to touch him again.

"Vincent, I think we should put a fresh bandage on that wound," she said, her subconscious acting on that desire.

"What was that nasty liquid that somebody made me drink earlier?"

"Jolee said it was kolto juice."

"Ugh, it was horrible. But I'd rather drink that again than have an itchy bandage around my waist. Does he have any more?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't see where he got it the first time, and I wouldn't know where to look," she answered truthfully.

"Oh well. You want me to sit up, right?"

"Yes, that would help." Bastila stood and retrieved a fresh set of bandages that had been soaking in kolto. "Actually, if you'd come over here, that would be easier. It won't drip everywhere, and the bed won't get wet this way."

"Sure," he said while walking over to her. Bastila pressed the cold, wet, kolto soaked dressing on his stomach, and he let out a surprised cry. "That's really cold!"

"Sorry," Bastila said. "I can't do anything about that. You're just going to have to deal with it."

Bastila had not noticed this before, but Vincent was a good deal taller than her, and he had at least a good sixty additional pounds to her 125 pound frame, if not more. She also found that to get her arms around him, she had to be quite close to his body. This did not go unnoticed by Vincent. His hands were currently clasped behind his head so as not to get in Bastila's way, and he was once again watching her intently. She had finished with the wet bandages, and was now wrapping a dry one around him so he wouldn't get the sheets on the bed wet.

"There," she said. "All done." Her next words caught in her throat as she felt Vincent's powerful arms slide around her waist and pull her close to him. Her hands immediately went to his chest in an effort to separate their bodies a small degree. "What are you doing?" she managed to whisper.

His face was buried in her hair, and she felt a tingle with every word he spoke. "Mmm...you saved my life, you know that?" His voice was barely above a whisper as well. "You're pushing yourself too hard. Relax," he commanded upon feeling that her body was tense in his embrace. Once he was satisfied that she was no longer stiff, he continued. "You need to sleep." She made to protest, but he cut her off. "Shut up. You're about to collapse where you stand, and worrying about me isn't helping. Go sit on the bed."

He let go of her, and walked over to a bucket of water that was sitting in the corner of the old hermit's house. He grabbed the bucket and a small piece of cloth and knelt in front of Bastila. Dipping the cloth in the water, he gently wiped away the dirt and grime on her face. Next, he unfastened the clasps that held her hair, allowing it to fall freely on her shoulders in elegant waves of dark silk.

"Why don't you wear your hair down more often?"

"It gets in the way."

"It's beautiful," he said, causing her to blush.

"Thank you," she replied quietly. "Now what are you doing?"

"Taking off your shoes. Do you want to be comfortable or not?"

"In order for me to be completely comfortable, I would need a very long, very hot shower."

"Why? You smell good."

"I – how is that possible? We've been running around in this hellish place for hours."

"How am I supposed to know why you still smell great after running around and fighting all day? Maybe you're just one of those people who smell good all the time. They are out there you know," finished while removing her other shoe. "And it's not like I'm complaining. If it makes you feel better, maybe the shampoo you use stays on for a long time. Does it really matter?"

"No," she said, rubbing a sore shoulder. Once again, nothing got by Vincent's ever perceptive gaze, and he moved to sit behind her on the bed. "Vincent..."

"You're a very difficult woman to deal with, you know that? Just shut up and be happy that I'm about to give you a massage."

Bastila felt his large, strong hands rest lightly on her shoulders before beginning to gently knead the aching muscles. It was the most soothing thing she had ever felt, and before she realized it, she had slipped into a peaceful slumber. Vincent noticed this when her body slumped back against his and her head lolled against his chest. Gingerly laying her down upon the bed, he got up and sat in a chair, turning to face her. Now all he had to do was wait for Jolee, wherever the hell that crazy old man was.