Savior Self
Dantooine part three.
Rated PG13
Disclaimer: I've been listening to a Russian pop/rock song for FOUR days straight. Give. Me. A. Break.
Savior Self
Cortessa made her way up to Master Dorak, her arms clasped respectfully behind her back. She bowed to him, and he bowed to her, and they made nice for a moment before he asked what she wanted.
"I wish to discuss something with you, Master," she mumbled.
He smiled knowingly. "Ah," he said. "You have come, young apprentice, at Master Zhar's bidding. He sees great promise in you… as do I. The time has come for you to choose the color of your lightsaber. This color also reflects your demeanor and position within the order."
Cortessa rested her hands on her hips. "Okay," she said.
He explained to her the different colors and positions before he started her on a quiz. "A woman and her small child are beset by a desperate-looking group of thugs. They are menacing her with weapons and she screams for you to help. What do you do?"
"Gut those thugs so badly their souls will be too broken to reach hell," Cortessa said.
Dorak was stunned. The other Council members stared with unmasked shock.
"Right, then," Dorak said slowly. "On to the next question." He took a deep breath. "You are in combat with a Dark Jedi allied with the Sith. There is a pause in the combat. What do you do?"
"Gut him like a fish and feed him his own organs while he convulses above death."
Dorak winced. "Yes, I figured as much," he said with a hint of resentfulness. He sighed and continued. "Now for the next question. There is a locked door and your goal lies on the other side. What do you do?"
Cortessa thought about it and shrugged. "Pick the lock. If it's magnetic, bomb it to bits."
Dorak nodded thoughtfully. "I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here, apprentice. I have a feeling about what you would be best at. But first, the final question. You are the head of an Enclave on a contested world. The Dark Jedi have infiltrated and are causing unrest across the planet. What do you do?"
Cortessa raised an eyebrow. "Hunt them down," she said. "Kill every last one."
Vandar swore under his breath. Vrook stared at him with shock.
"This day just keeps getting…" Vrook muttered, and massaged his temples.
Dorak shifted uneasily. "As I suspected," he said softly. "You would be most suitable as a Jedi Guardian." He glanced at her. "What color and path do you believe yourself most suited to, apprentice?"
She shrugged. "Don't care," she said smoothly. "Give me the blue crystal. It's just as well."
"This is a serious advancement, apprentice."
"Yeah, okay. I'll be a Guardian, then. Protector of the peace."
Dorak handed her the blue crystal. "Here. Go speak with Master Zhar again and he will instruct you in how to construct it."
She bowed and studied the crystal. It was actually quite lovely, all shiny and clear. She gazed through it for a moment before she brought it to Master Zhar, pressing it into his palm. "There," she said. "I have my crystal."
Master Zhar smiled at her. "Good. Now that you have selected your crystal, we shall begin the construction of your lightsaber."
"Finally," Cortessa said, fishing the pieces from her pockets. "Just tell me what to do."
------
Carth shifted impatiently in his seat, gazing out at the door of the enclave. The barb he had embraced that had been Bastila's secrecy had begun to fester, and now he was feeling impatient and wary. What was Cortessa doing all day? What was wearing her down? Why? What secret mission was the Council sending her on? Why? Where? How? With whom? When?
Oh, yes. The barb was definitely festering.
Then Cortessa strode out of the Enclave with a glowing blue lightsaber. Carth started so violently he knocked his empty caffa over. He swore so loudly, Canderous actually came to check on him.
"What's your problem now?" he growled.
Carth could say nothing. He could only stare at the glowing blue blade in Cortessa's hand. He felt heart-wrenchingly betrayed. Canderous, however, chuckled with admiration.
"She's extraordinary," he said. He thumped Carth on the shoulder. "Would you look at that? She bears the mark of the Jedi and yet she carries the diligence and strength of a great warrior."
Carth felt himself choke. He stared at Canderous, shocked.
"What?" the older man asked, blinking.
"You… you're not…"
Canderous began to laugh uproariously, and Carth flushed deep crimson, slumping miserably in his seat. Canderous shook his head and laughed, chortling happily. Carth wasn't sure what to make of this – it gave him no specific answer. He fretted for a moment before he grew angry, glaring at Cortessa's approaching form. She walked upright, a smug, pleased smirk on her face. Even in her new, baggy Jedi robes her figure was clearly cut. Carth shook his head angrily and slammed his fist on the desk before he calmed himself and wound up in maintenance repairs on the ship's guidance systems.
------
"So," said Canderous over breakfast the next morning, "why aren't you training?"
Cortessa glanced up at him and then back at the mushy substance that was her food. Carth sat stoically beside her, not even looking at her or his food, but rather at his lap, as if it held some magical riddle that he just had to solve. Mission was enthralled by her meal, though she wasn't eating as much as Zaalbar, who had emptied two bowls already and was on his third. Bastila daintily ignored them both, nibbling away at her food. Seeing no other option but to reply, Cortessa heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm on my final test. Once I finish, I'll become a Jedi for good." She looked up at him, her eyes darker than usual and more piercing. "I'm not sure how I feel about it, yet."
"You should be humbled and proud of the honor," said Bastila.
"I didn't ask you," Cortessa replied shortly.
Bastila fell silent again.
"I don't see why you need to be a Jedi," said Mission. "You're good at fighting as it is." She shrugged. "I guess."
"What does your test include?" Carth asked, looking up again and pinning Cortessa with his gaze.
Cortessa smiled weakly. "I have to cleanse a sacred grove of a taint. He wouldn't tell me how. Can I bring you guys with me? Just to make sure?"
"Absolutely," said Canderous immediately.
Mission nodded. Zaalbar mumbled. Bastila looked away; she wasn't included in this suggestion. She was a Jedi. Cortessa looked at Carth; he was the one she wanted to follow her most. He said nothing and stared at his food for a while before he hesitantly nodded. "Okay, I suppose," he muttered.
She grinned, genuinely pleased. "Thanks, doll. It means a lot to me."
He shifted uncomfortably and lost himself in his meal.
Cortessa looked around at everyone else, resting her arms on the table. "Okay, so. We're heading out today. Everyone okay with that?"
"Sure."
"Good. Go get ready. I sense this task won't be an easy one." She smirked and ushered them away, but Canderous remained, even while no one was left but Cortessa herself.
"Yes?" she said placidly.
"I just want you to know that I'm very proud of you," he said. "I know you haven't known me for more than a few months, but it means a lot. You're an excellent warrior. It is a worthwhile job to be at your side."
"That means so much, Canderous. Thank you."
He grinned wolfishly, but said nothing.
"Hey," said Cortessa, reclining in her seat and folding her arms. "Got any more war stories for me?" His stories were exquisite. She loved them. She hoped he would have some to tell, just so that she could tune out everything else for a while.
He glanced at her and grinned. "Sure," he said. He took a deep breath, running over where to start, before he was satisfied and began. "I was one of the best youth warriors in clan Ordo in my time. No one before he had mastered the power of our Basilisk war droids as quickly as I had. Except Mandalore himself, of course." A smirk flickered over his features.
"That's quite a waste of talent," she said. She started and stammered to explain. "I-I mean that… o-once the wars were over… you just… stopped. And became a…. a common mercenary… I'm sorry for you."
"Don't get yourself in a twist over it," he told her. "I admit it is upsetting but let me continue with my tale."
She nodded and shifted in her seat. She gazed at him with utter adoration, like a child and her grandfather. But she also wore some ill-placed attraction towards him. He knew she did; she didn't hide it well. She thought he wasn't aware – a charming factor, really – and the pilot was all too suspicious of him. As long as she didn't go along asking for it, he wouldn't touch her. But she was something to look at, and talk to. Had she been older, and a Mandalorian, and not reeling so over that Onasi fellow, Canderous might have claimed her.
"So you were telling me about the wars," she said, clearing her throat.
He nodded. "In those days, we were sweeping across the Outer Rim, destroying all who fought us. Young Mandalores would prove themselves in real combat with unknown opponents above a thousand worlds. Each brought back the story of his achievements."
She grinned. "I would have harnessed the most power," she said.
He laughed. "I bet you would have," he chuckled. "I have no doubt you would have."
She beamed at him.
Canderous continued. "We were still recovering from the war we fought with the Sith. We were not yet strong enough to fight the Republic again. We needed to train another generation to do that." He shook his head and laughed harshly. "We would travel from world to world, and descend on it in our Basilisk war droids. I still remember my first combat."
"Tell me," she said.
He gazed at her for a while, considering her. "Very well," he said. He smiled wistfully, getting lost in his memories. "I remember it well, orbiting high above a placid world, its defenses just stirring. As was tradition, I would go ahead of the first wave to find enemies in the thickest fighting."
"Oh, dare devil," said Cortessa, grinning.
He laughed. "Shush," he said. "Now… I remember standing there in my armor, linked directly with the Basilisk thrumming beneath me, my heart racing with fear at the coming battle."
"Fear?" she said. "Oh, Canderous. Fear?"
Canderous smiled at her and ruffled her hair. "Every new warrior has to fear to understand how to beat it," he told her. "You must know that."
"I know it now."
"Good." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "The doors opened in front of me and the air was sucked out of the drop bay, scattering crystals of frozen vapor across my path." Cortessa's eyes were wide; she could picture the scene perfectly, and it made her heart go cold with awe. Canderous continued. "I can't describe what it feels like to look directly down at a world, falling continuously as you circle it, with barely fifteen centimeters of armor plate protecting you. When the magnetic locks disengaged on my droid I plunged out of the drop bay towards the battle that waited below. I –"
"You dropped from orbit riding a droid?" Cortessa blurted, interrupting him.
He laughed. "Yes," he said. "I did. Now would you listen?"
"Sorry."
He continued. "The exhilaration, the euphoria I felt as I streaked into the atmosphere, dodging self-guided projectile and beam weapons was unmatched. A 50 kilometer plunge through the atmosphere, dodging and weaving, the outside of my armor glowing like the sun with the heat of re-entry." Cortessa gasped at the imagery. Something inside her stirred – a tender, raw, aching sensation. She missed combat, now, already. Canderous wasn't catching on to the pain he was causing her, and kept speaking. "And with barely thirty meters to spare, I twisted and skimmed the surface, firing at the giant beam generators that were in my path. The explosion from that sent shockwaves that leveled the entire complex around it. It was the moment of my life."
Cortessa let a small moan escape her. "That's amazing," she murmured. Her heart burned with a strange longing that only someone meant for battle could feel. Her arms felt limp and useless. She needed to fight. Now she understood Canderous's dilemma, and why he had joined up with Davik in the first place. He needed to curb that urge to fight. It probably flowed beneath the surface of his skin, even now, while he spoke to her.
Canderous sighed. "I'll never forget those times. But things are different now. We can't go fighting the way we had. There are too few of us left now," he said, and glanced at her. He took in her sad eyes and skirted off of the subject. "But I don't really want to talk about this anymore. I trust I've satisfied your curiosity for now?" He added 'for now' obviously. She realized he wanted her to keep talking to him, but not at the moment. She smiled, pressing a hand to his shoulder.
"Nothing more for now," she said.
He nodded, smiling when he caught on. "Okay, then. Let's get this show on the road."
------
The heat of the courtyard was oppressing. Cortessa shook her head and turned her face away from the glare of the sun. Carth sighed heavily, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Mission stripped off her vest and hung it up near the entrance to retrieve later. Zaalbar and Canderous were stoic.
"The way out is over there," said Cortessa, pointing.
"Let's go, then," said Carth.
They had barely gone a few feet when a man addressed them, shaking Cortessa's hand. "Greetings, friend," he said; his voice was gravelly and friendly, and Cortessa decided he meant no harm.
"Greetings," she murmured.
The man looked her over. "I think I can safely assume you are a member of the Jedi Order," he said, motioning towards her robes and lightsaber. "Has the Council agreed to hear our petition?"
Cortessa smiled at him. "I am merely an apprentice, not a Jedi," she said.
The man drooped. "Ah, I'm sorry," he muttered. "I was mistaken." He cleared his throat. "Does the Council require our presence?"
"I'm sorry," Cortessa told him. "I don't know."
Gar frowned. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry." He sat up straight. "How may I be of assistance?"
Cortessa looked him over. "Who are you?"
"Oh, right!" The man shook her hand again. "My name is Gar. Me and my fine wife Rilka here…"
A waif, middle-aged woman nodded at Cortessa and smiled. "A pleasure," she said.
Gar picked up again. "… live on one of the northern farms. But the kath hounds and the Mandalorian problem has been getting really bad of late, and we're here to ask the Jedi Council to help."
Canderous perked up from his sulky, uninterested silence. "Mandalorians?" he asked. "Here?"
Cortessa frowned. Gar nodded. "Ever since the Republic beat them years ago, little groups have been roaming all over the place."
Canderous scowled. "They're pathetic," he said. "They're taking scraps when they should be taking worlds."
"Canderous!" Mission gasped.
Zaalbar mumbled unhappily. Carth shook his head.
Gar stiffened but continued. "With the Sith invasion, the Republic doesn't have the manpower to hunt them down," he said determinedly. "The Jedi are even worse off because Malak has been hunting them specifically."
"Haha," said Canderous.
"Shut up, please," said Cortessa, and turned back to Gar.
Gar shrugged. "The Jedi are worried that he might even be supporting these raiders, so they don't want to face them directly. That puts in a kind of hard situation."
"I see."
"Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Cortessa nodded. "You mentioned kath hounds," she said.
"Oh, yes. Recently, the kath hounds have been acting much more aggressively," said Gar. "They've even attacked some of the settlers."
"Write that down, would you, Mission?" said Cortessa. "I want to know what we're going to face out here. Master Whatsit wasn't kidding when he said something was wrong." She swallowed nervously, and Mission pulled out her datapad.
Gar shifted uneasily. "Those Mandalorian raiders have been milking the outlying farms dry, too… I hear John got hit really bad. Too bad about his daughter."
Canderous snorted. "He should have been protecting her better if he wanted to keep her," he said shortly. Carth gaped. Mission gasped. Zaalbar gave a mortified roar. However, Cortessa felt herself agree.
Gar sputtered and thrust a fist in the Mandalorian's direction. "Mandalorian beast!" he shouted. "Some of us don't like fighting and killing and… a-and butchering as much as you!"
His wife pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Let it go, Gar," she told him gently. "He means us no harm."
Gar growled quietly for a while before he regained control. His voice grew quiet. "I'm not exactly sure what the Council will do about it, but we need some help this time. I only hope they'll listen to me." He shook his head. "Do you need anything else, child?"
"I just want to know about Dantooine, and then I'll be on my way."
Gar nodded. "Well, as you can see here, Dantooine is mostly plains and grassland, but it has nice hearty soil. A lot of new people have come in the last generation or so."
"Any I might want to know about?"
"Hmm… the ones you'll most likely hear about are the Sandrals and Matales. Big, wealthy landowners, the both of them. But Ahlan Matale and Nurik Sandral just can't seem to get along. And now Ahlan wants to get the Council to do something."
Cortessa frowned. "Do something? Why?"
Gar shook his head sadly. "Well… from what I hear it started about a week ago. See, Nurik's son Casus is an archeologist, bright lad too, but he disappeared. Nurik of course blamed Ahlan, but even he didn't take it before the Council. But now Ahlan's son Shen has disappeared as well… and no one knows where he's gone. Ahlan blames Nurik. He thinks he's kidnapped his son!" He shook his head again. "I don't know exactly what he wants to ask the Council, but from what I know of Ahlan, he's probably going to be after blood."
"I have to go now," said Cortessa quietly, bowing.
Gar nodded and shook her hand a final time. "Farewell, then," he said. "May the Force be with you. Is that how it goes?" He thought for a moment before he nodded. "Yes. May the Force be with you."
"May the Force be with you." Cortessa looked back at her friends, who stared back blankly. She shrugged and continued, only to be stopped by yet another man. This man was in his middle-age years, with graying hair and a sad face. Or, it would be sad, were it not for the fact that his expression was twisted with anger.
"Are you a Jedi?" he growled. "How long can you people continue to sit by and claim you protect us? Protectors? HA! You sit in your Enclave safe from the Mandalorians while we suffer!"
Cortessa frowned. "What?"
The man ignored her completely. "You Jedi have left them alone because they haven't hurt you, but they steal our property, destroy your land, and worse!"
"Are you Jon?" Cortessa asked.
"Yes," said the man warily. "Why?"
She ignored him. Carth butted in. "I say we look for these Mandalorians, Cortessa. I fought them in the war… they're nothing but vicious pirates." (Canderous slapped his repeater in his open palm.) "We should stop them if we can."
"I'm not sure…" Cortessa began, but Jon cut in.
"Those Mandalorian brutes have killed my daughter!"
Canderous spoke up, narrowing his eyes. "You should have protected her better. And you call yourself her father."
Mission groaned and shook her head. Carth stared with shock. Cortessa was torn between agreeing and wondering what Canderous knew about fatherhood. Jon spluttered angrily.
"And what am I supposed to do against a dozen Mandalorians and Duros? NOTHING! THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO!" His voice grew soft and he shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "They came to our land, demanding our livelihood… but Ilsa… my Ilsa… said no…"
"I'm sorry," said Cortessa softly.
Mission piped up. "She wasn't very smart to say no with a blaster against her head."
Canderous laughed and slapped her on the shoulder.
Jon looked away, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "She was always impulsive," he muttered, and sobbed into his hand. After a moment, he drew a shaky breath and found the strength to continue. "There was nothing I could do… Too many of the Mandalorians and their Duros allies… I've come here to ask you, please, master Jedi, stop these raiders and get revenge for my daughter."
Cortessa deeply felt for Jon's case. She stepped up and allowed him a hug. He sobbed into her shoulder for a little while, and the rest of the crew stood by awkwardly, not sure what to say. Finally, Jon pulled back and wiped away his tears. Cortessa held his face in her hands.
"I will do this for you," she told him. "But never for revenge."
He didn't quite comprehend. "Please, I beg of you…" he cried.
"Shh, I will," she said. "Just sit, and calm down. I promise you, the Mandalorians will not walk the plains after I have finished with them."
"Thank you," choked Jon. "Thank you."
She nodded and bowed, and silently led her group away.
------
Author's Notes: In the game Jon sounds like a sap. He still does. The sap. Read the deleted chapter if you want. The deleted chapter won't progress the story any, and will not influence any future parts. Most of my chapters go through several revisions. Just because this one went through the most revisions, I decided to post this one's 'doppelganger.' Hope you liked it.
DarthNexus9000 – Thank you. I hope you liked this one as well.
Dante-Revan – Thanks for noticing the Jedi Masters. I tried my best to keep them in character but stretch them out a bit. If that makes sense.
Ilea Dreike – I had fun making up a whole bunch of different answers. There was one point where I had her screw up two separate parts by saying that there was no ignorance, there was death, but it didn't make much sense so I got rid of it. I'm pretty pleased with the ones I left.
FaintlyAlarming – Here you go. :D
Amme Moto – It's meant to. XD Hope you like this.
Dark Lord Daishi – Glad you liked those. I enjoyed throwing in little things like that. It makes everything so much bigger.
SilverSentinal21 – Eh. Carth's moping has a reason. Most of this stuff is leading up to something. It's not anything big or complex, so don't get too excited, but it's important all the same. I'm glad you liked Canderous, though. I always felt he was the underdog (he, T3, and Jolee) in KotOR II.
Child-of-the-Dawn – Thanks for liking that stuff. It was very fun to write.
Queenofinsanity – Here we are. c",)
