Savior Self
-hums Star Wars theme song-
Dantooine part two
Rated PG13
Disclaimer: I can't think of anything clever to say.
Savior Self
The afternoon passed without incident. Canderous continued working on the swoop bike with T3-M4, Zaalbar and Mission were terrorizing the locals, and Carth was reading up on something or other in the cockpit. Cortessa made herself comfortable right in the way of Canderous's work.
"Do you want something?" the Mandalorian growled at last, unable to ignore her any longer.
She smiled. "I was wondering if you had any interesting stories," she said.
Canderous raised an eyebrow. "You want to hear tales of my exploits? Of the wars I've seen and fought, the enemies I've seen die by my hand?"
Silence.
He smirked. "Sure, I'll humor you." He thought about it for a moment before he began. "My name's Canderous of the Mandalorian clan Ordo. I've been fighting across the galaxy for 40 of your years." Cortessa's eyes grew wide. He laughed. "Yes, I'm that old. But not to our kind, only to yours. In any case, let me continue. For my people, it's the honor and glory of battle that rules us. It's through combat that we prove our worth, gain renown and make our fortunes."
Cortessa frowned. "Is that why you worked as a mercenary?"
He thumped her shoulder gently. "I'm getting there. Times have changed now. The Mandalorian clans have been scattered across the Outer Rim, the Republic is in decline, and the Sith Empire rises to take its place. The clans as they were aren't a threat, but the galaxy still fears us." He laughed wryly. "People think we war out of spite, or bloodlust. They don't understand, and fear that." Cortessa shook her head sadly. He was warmed to know someone could relate, even slightly. He continued. "We only wanted the challenge of battle, and glory from it – win or lose. And we lost." He grinned to himself.
Cortessa laughed. "Yeah, you did."
He nodded. "But now I have no real challenges. Crushing Davik's enemies and the pathetic gangs in the Lower City of Taris could not be considered the most glorious of tasks."
"I can imagine," she said dryly.
He chuckled. This woman had some awesome traits, he had to admit. He sighed, though, and leaned back against the wall, shaking his head and pushing his hair from his face. "When I think of the battles I've fought… the thousands I've killed… the worlds I've burned… I weep for my past." Whoops. What was it about her that got people to cough up their secrets so easily? He had seen the pilot do it before – but him? The Mandalorian Canderous Ordo? Certainly not. He suddenly stiffened, deciding to bail so that he could think about it. "We'll never speak of this again. We've got work to do, so let's get to it."
She nodded. "Very well, Canderous. Thank you for speaking with me."
"You're welcome. Now scoot. You're sitting on the power converter."
She alighted loftily and strode out. He watched her back melt from view and shook his head again, as if to clear it. He wasn't sure how he felt about her company yet. He would have to think about it.
T3-M4 screamed with alarm and backed up against the wall, and the power converter burst into flames.
------
Carth woke to the sounds of Bastila's rushed escape. He sat up in his bunk, focusing over the sounds of Canderous's heavy breathing. Bastila was scrambling about, knocking over cans and chairs as she hurried. Slowly, Carth got to his feet and crept into the main area, where she was hastily stuffing down some breakfast. She saw him and choked, her eyes wide.
"C-Carth! I… good morning," she stammered between her fingers. She looked around for a moment, flustered. "I…"
"Are you okay?" he asked gently. Her face was paler than usual and her hair was a ratty mess. Flour coated an entire meter of the floor.
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," she said. "I'll take care of it when I get back. I have to see the Council. T-Tell Cortessa that… uhm… The Council wants to see her… I… goodbye, Carth. Uh… Goodbye." She shook his hand and bolted out the door, stumbling over her own feet.
Carth frowned after her. "Wonder what her problem is," he said to himself, before he began cleaning up her mess. He shook his head. Who knew someone like Bastila could make such a clutter?
Something smashed in the girls' bunkroom. He looked up, brows furrowed with worry, as Cortessa scrambled out and slipped on some of the flour. She was sent sprawling to the ground.
"DAMMIT!" she shrieked, raising a white, trembling hand to her hair and running it through, leaving a streak of discolor in it.
Carth moved over to her and helped her to her feet. He looked her over and brushed her off. She stared at him with wide, dark-rimmed eyes, and gently pushed him away.
"I-I'll be alright, really," she muttered. "Is there anything to eat?"
"Bastila probably ruined it," Carth said. "But go ahead."
She looked, and found a pastry to jam into her mouth. She sat down in a seat and shuddered; her eyes darted back and forth across the room.
"You okay?" he asked.
She jumped. "What? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."
He sighed. "This morning's getting stranger by the minute," he muttered. "First Bastila comes out looking like she saw a ghost, and now you."
"Bastila? Really?" Cortessa stared up at him with wide eyes.
He looked her over. "Well, Bastila did mention that you should go to the Council chambers before she left. It's no doubt urgent, so you shouldn't keep them waiting." He paused. "I'm sorry." He paused again. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head, losing her face in her hands. "I had a rough night," she said; her voice was muffled by her palms. Her index fingers rose to her hairline and massaged her temples, and the knuckles of the rest of her fingers rubbed against her eyes.
Carth rested a comforting hand on her shoulder and brushed some of the flour out of her hair. "Well, I can't say I blame you," he said quietly. "I… I haven't exactly been sleeping well myself. Here I thought things would get better once we escaped Taris." Watching the planet blow up beneath him had reminded him strongly of Telos. It brought back so many memories… so many undressed wounds that flashed raw over his mind. The pain, the loneliness, the hopelessness… Cortessa had removed the pain for a while, on Taris, once he had started trusting her. But now… it was just… gone. Just… gone.
Cortessa gazed up at him earnestly and pressed a hand to his chest. "You going to be okay?" she murmured softly.
He looked away, brushing her hand off of him. "Yeah. I'll be fine."
Cortessa nodded, turning serious. "Did Bastila say anything else?"
Carth glanced at her. "No, she didn't. She didn't seem well. And for that matter, neither do you. Are you alright?"
"You asked me that already. I had a rough night, is all." She looked away, hugging herself. She looked like she needed someone else to hug her, but he wasn't about to do it. "Let's just… go. I'll get this flour out of my hair and… wash my hands."
He nodded, feeling a little broken. "You got it."
She wandered to the sink and stuck her head under. Minutes passed and she seemed to relax as the water cleansed her face and hands. The color returned to her skin. Carth watched silently for a while, before an idea struck him.
"Uh… hey… Cortessa?" he said uncertainly.
She tossed her wet hair back, splashing him. Her playful nature was returning. She looked back at him, licking the water from her lips. To his utter horror, he felt his heart leap to his throat. "What?" she asked; the volume had returned to her voice, and it was smooth again, rather than shaky.
He felt heat creep up his face. What's my problem? He cleared his throat, giving his head a firm shake. "Uh… B-Bastila never said you… had to go alone this time," he muttered, looking at his feet. "Maybe I could come with you."
"Why would you want to do that?"
"Uh… I don't know… I guess… because you didn't look so well this morning."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Neither did you."
"Please?"
She shrugged, smiling. "Sure. Canderous and Mission can tag along, also, if they want. I'll ask them."
Carth sighed and, reluctantly, he nodded.
------
Cortessa walked in silence, her arms swinging loosely at her sides. Her strides were long and confident, and her twin vibroblades glinted against her thighs. Her wet hair had been pulled back tightly into its customary braid, but a few strands still broke loose and fluttered in the wind.
Canderous walked solemnly behind her in his tattered, old clothing, clapping his repeater in his open palm. Though he snarled and glared at people, he didn't intend to shoot anyone. He saw no point in it.
Mission was dressed in her grey vest and pants again, and walked right on Cortessa's heels. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she actually seemed to be in a good mood. No one had talked to her about the destruction of Taris – Bastila had firmly insisted the matter remain untouched. Now the Twi'lek tried to mimic the sway of Cortessa's hips (and she failed miserably).
Zaalbar ambled silently behind them all, his shoulders hunched as if to defend him from the gaze of others. He studied his surroundings with awe, but kept his comments to himself.
Carth was wedged between the Mandalorian and the Wookiee. Cortessa couldn't see him, and didn't care to. He'd been a little too… close lately.
The Enclave rose above them and engulfed them. Cortessa led the group deep to its core, to the Council chambers. At the door, she turned to face her friends.
"I don't know what they want to talk to me about," she said. "But I want you guys to stay here."
Zaalbar mumbled something about how unhappy he was, and that their lifedebt was being mistreated. Mission nodded solemnly, and Canderous said something about how the Jedi needed to shove something or other up something else. Carth frowned at her and studied her desperately.
"I'm sorry, Carth," she said, grasping his hand. "If I could let you in, I would."
Canderous thumped Carth on the back. "Don't be a baby. The woman can take care of herself."
She smiled at the Mandalorian. "Thank you, Canderous."
Carth fell into a morose, sulky silence.
With a bow, she twirled through the door and left them there alone.
------
Cortessa stumbled out some time later, looking ill. Carth caught her before she fell, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist. The closeness of her burned through his jacket, and he quickly handed her off to Canderous.
"Corty!" Mission cried. "Corty, are you alright? What happened?"
"They won't listen to me," Cortessa moaned, burying her fast in Canderous's chest. "They're going to make me a Jedi. A Jedi. I don't know… I-I'm scared." She shook her head.
"Why you? What did you do?" Carth asked.
"They say the Force is strong in me," Cortessa said, and, despite the sincere worry and pain in her voice, she could still find something wry and sarcastic to say to spite it all. "I don't get it. Maybe they mean I have big jugs or something."
Carth couldn't help but check.
Mission laughed. Canderous rolled his eyes. Zaalbar asked, "What are jugs?"
"Nothing, Big Z," Mission said. "Don't worry about it."
"I don't want to be a Jedi," Cortessa said. She groaned. "This sucks!"
"Well, it will make you stronger," Canderous said. "And you don't have to obey their rules so far as I say."
Cortessa again studied the Mandalorian with appreciation. "Thank you, Canderous," she murmured.
He smiled and ruffled her hair like an affectionate father.
Carth flushed with sudden, alien jealousy. Mission stared at him and he looked away, coughing. He didn't know what was the matter with him, but he had to get it settled out.
"So… uh… what are they going to do to you?"
"She cannot say," said Bastila silkily, and pushed Cortessa aside. She had materialized out of nowhere, and Carth cried out with surprise. "And that is all that matters for you, Carth. If you ask any more questions I will see to it that the Council… deals with you."
Carth glowered and bristled, but embraced the barb. It would give him something else to focus on for a while, rather then Cortessa's teasing hips.
------
For two months, Cortessa was first to rise and last to bed, and spent all of her days at the Enclave, training. When the crew did see her, she looked a mess, with her hair in disarray and her face sallow. Her eyes were hollow and wan, and her hair didn't shine. Her skin had toned down several shades.
"You're not well," Canderous said one day, peering at her over the breakfast table. "You've got the pilot in a twist over it, and the kid won't stop pestering me."
Her voice was soft and she sounded absent-minded. Her eyes were out of focus as she gazed at him. "And?"
"Do something about it."
She groaned. "Like what? They won't listen to me. Besides, I'm learning all kinds of stuff… I'll be better in a while."
"No, you need a rest, or something," Canderous said firmly. "I don't care, but that pilot will have my head if I don't get you to do something."
"Why doesn't Carth bitch at me himself if he's that upset about it?"
"He knows you won't listen to him," he said. He laughed. "I don't know when I became the mediator, but here I am."
She sighed, pushing her bangs from her eyes. "I suppose I could use some rest," she said. "I don't know why he cares, though."
"I've never seen anyone pine like he does," Canderous told her, spreading out some datapads and glancing at them a few times before he looked back up at her. "He's worse than a teenager, sulking around in that cockpit all day until you come back. I don't care what you do to him, but I can't have him doing this, so stop it."
"Why would he sulk around just because I'm gone?"
"Who cares? Just fix it. Talk to him, or something. I can't take it anymore."
She smiled at him wolfishly. "Why does it bother you?" she asked.
Canderous shifted uncomfortably. "Wakes me up in the middle of the night when he comes back to bed," he said quietly. "It doesn't matter what I think, though. The Twi'lek's getting worked up about the two of you, also."
"Her name's Mission," Cortessa said. "And what about her?"
"She worries about you and fawns over him. Say's he's cute, or something like it. I can hardly stand it because all she talks about is you guys, even when she's working on the bike. Nearly caught my hand in a breaker because she wasn't paying attention."
"I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble."
He smiled. "Don't worry about it," he said gently. "Just do something about them. I can't stand it."
She nodded. "I'll do my best." She massaged her temples. "I have a meeting with the Council today. If I can squeeze in a few words, I promise I'll try and get a break."
"If you can't squeeze in a few words, I'll pound some into their skulls."
"Oh," she said, and laughed.
------
Cortessa picked her way slowly up to the Council chambers, deliberately taking her time and pausing to greet every person she saw, even the Jedi who had gotten after her about her robes when she had first arrived. However, she couldn't procrastinate forever, and she finally arrived at the foot of master Zhar.
The pink Twi'lek smiled at her and shook her hand. "Welcome back, apprentice," he said warmly. "I was beginning to worry about your absence."
"I apologize, Master," she said silkily, bowing.
"It is all in the past, and you are forgiven," Zhar said. "I have called you here for a reason."
"I understand that I need more training, Master," she murmured. "But I would like to discuss something with you."
"In a moment, my apprentice. In a moment," he said. He paused, taking a deep breath. "In all my years, I have never seen one who has mastered the initial training so quickly. You have done in weeks what many cannot do in years."
Cortessa flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Master."
He shook her hand, and when he pulled back, she found gripped in her palm the lens and beginning pieces of a lightsaber. She gasped, surprised, and gazed at Zhar with confusion. He smiled at her, and nodded. "I am honored to welcome you fully into the Jedi Order."
"What… does…" She cleared her throat, stunned. "Er… D-Does this mean that I have graduated, Master? May I… may I leave?"
He shook his head. "Soon your apprenticeship will end and you will be granted the title of Padawan, the lowest rank of those within the Jedi Order. Yet first you must prove yourself worthy."
She frowned. "And how do I do that?"
"Peace," he said smoothly, and continued. "In the traditions and customs of our Order, as handed down from Master to pupil for a thousand generations, you must successfully complete three tests before you can earn your place among the Jedi."
She sighed. "Great," she muttered, but quickly corrected herself. "Please expand on the concept of these tests, Master. I wish to learn."
He was proud of her. She could tell by the way he seemed to stand a little straighter. "These tests," he said, "will see if you have truly mastered the training you have been given, both mental and physical. Upon completing these tests you will pass from apprentice to Padawan, and join the ranks of the Jedi."
"Oh, goody," she said; the sarcasm suddenly slipped past her lips uncontrollably. She gasped.
Zhar grinned, but hurried to mask his amusement. He knew all too well that she didn't really enjoy her position, but put up with it, for reasons no one, including herself, was entirely sure of. He shifted his robes and nodded at her. "First I will test your knowledge of the Jedi Code," he told her. "These tenets must always guide your actions, in everything you do you must always be conscious of their wisdom."
She bowed.
"You must prove you have a Jedi's understanding of the Code. Return when you feel you are ready for this challenge."
"I am ready now, Master."
"Are you certain? Patience is important, apprentice."
She gazed up at him with hard, icy eyes. "I'm sure."
"Then we shall begin." He cleared his throat. "Complete these fundamental precepts in our Order: There is no emotion…"
There is PMS. "There is peace," said Cortessa.
He smiled, nodding. "There is no ignorance…"
There is stupidity. "There is knowledge."
"There is no passion…"
There is love. Cortessa took a deep breath. "There is serenity."
Zhar looked her over appreciatively before he continued. "There is no chaos…"
There are nukes that blow up worlds. No crap Cortessa bit her lip. "There is harmony."
Zhar sensed her anger, and spoke his words with a little more strength. "There is no death…"
There are only smoking corpses… empty shells. Cortessa felt herself tense. "There is the Force," she managed to say, and took a deep breath, clearing her head.
Zhar frowned, sensing her frustration. He nodded. "You have learned your studies well," he offered. "It will not be long before you are a full member of our Order."
"Thank you, Master."
"But first you must pass the second test, and learn about the most prized possession of a Jedi, the very symbol of our Order: the lightsaber." He motioned towards her hand, which still tightly clenched the lens, power cell, and other necessities for a lightsaber. She opened her palm and stared at them, brows drawn tightly together.
"Master Zhar…?"
"Shh," he said. "Let me finish. The lightsaber is the traditional weapon of our Order. It is a symbol of a Jedi's skill, dedication, and authority, and each lightsaber is as individual as the Jedi who wields it."
Cortessa bit her lip. Except that the Jedi want to make everyone mindless, identical drones.
Zhar continued. "The blade is made of pure energy, focused by polished crystals in the hilt. As the second test, each Jedi must construct her lightsaber with her own hands." He looked down at her seriously. "And now it is your time. Speak with Master Dorak and he will guide you through the choosing of a crystal."
------
Author's Notes: Proud of the job I did here. Yessir. I don't really have anything else to say about it. Sorry the updates are taking so long. :(
Child-of-the-Dawn – I liked how Dorak and Zhar appeared more human in my story, rather than silent, stuffy Jedi like in the game. I'm glad you appreciated it, too.
FaintlyAlarming – c",)
Ilea Dreike – What do you mean by that?
Dark Lord Daishi – I'm glad you liked that part. I was hoping someone would note it.
Amme Moto – Yeah. It's going to be a nightmare for me. XD
SilverSentinal21 – I wish I could reveal the ending to you to consol you, but I can't. It would just ruin it. This entire thing is leading up to a snap scene. It's going to be awesome.
Odious Feline – I enjoy Cortessa's character, too. She's really fun to bat around in this story.
DarthNexus9000 – We'll have to wait and see.
Queenofinsanity – If you did, I apologize. I forget things easily and I've been under the weather. Your support means a lot – thanks for sticking by me so far.
