For the next few days, I rested in the cockpit as Carth, Mission, Juhani, and Bastila searched for some kind of lead on a Sand People translator. And so far, after two days of looking, they found nothing—only a Hutt that went by the name of Motta. But he would only translate for a price. One million credits, that is.

Fortunately, the Sith assassin hadn't shown his face yet. Probably scared to death of our awesome power. Or he's getting reinforcements. Other than that, Tatooine was plagued by the usual problems Outer Rim planets faced. Gangs prowled. Bounty hunters hunted. And Czerka enslaved.

I leaned back in the pilot's seat and itched my bare neck. The bandages had peeled off this morning revealing healthy skin from what was once a red hot mess. Now all that was left of my recovery was annoying kolto rashes and stagnant impatience. I swear, if Bastila didn't let me go out with them tomorrow...I'll turn funny T3 back on. And no amount of begging was going to convince me otherwise.

When four figures made their way to the ship, I sat up with a smile. My boredom was finally over. I pushed a button to lower the ramp and rushed to the garage. I waved at Juhani although I don't think she noticed the gesture as she stormed past. Mission skipped off after her as if she had won the Core World lottery.

"What's she all excited about?" I asked.

"We found...something," Bastila said. "In a few days, Czerka is going to auction off all of their surplus droids. Apparently, one is a translator droid that can understand every language. Including Sand People."

"Really," I said. "Huh."

I hadn't actually expected them to find anything this time.

"I wouldn't get our hopes up," Carth said. "If this is an auction, then you can expect high bids. We need to scrounge up enough credits to beat out the competition in two days."

Bastila shrugged. "Yes, but at the moment that is our only option."

"Well," I said with a smirk, "there's the 'sneak into Czerka's storage units and steal the droid' option."

The Jedi glared at me. "That is never going to be an option. We need to keep a low profile, remember?"

Oh well. Can't say that I didn't try.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating dinner and coming up with a plan to buy the droid. All of us—minus the absentee Mandalorian—pooled our money together. Even with Mission's funds, that only left us with 3,450 credits. Barely enough to enter in for bidding.

Mission, of course, suggested she...poke around in some abodes to get some more goods. Bastila and Carth were vehemently against the idea for obvious reasons. There was a pazaak scene on Tatooine as well that I could...influence. And, for obvious reasons, Bastila was against that idea as well. She was probably right—pazaak players were always looking to accuse someone of "counting." I crossed my arms and tapped my foot against the floor as I gazed down at the pile of credits. Then, I remembered something. Sasha had said that a bounty had been put on Liam by Czerka. And they brought him to Tatooine. If we all became bounty hunters, we could both get the needed credits and try to find clues on Liam's whereabouts at the same time.

Bastila frowned—probably noticing the smirk climbing onto my face.

"What are you scheming about now?"

I chuckled. "It's quite simple. We have a hunting license, right? Well then, why don't we just use that to do some bounty hunting?"

Carth and Bastila did not look impressed. Neither did Juhani. Mission, however, smiled wide at the idea.

Carth, for once, was the first to speak up. "Normally, I would agree with that... plan, but the 'hunters' aren't hunting for high-caliber bounties. They go after wraids for their plates and beasts that bother moisture farmers. From what I hear, it pays diddly squat."

"I mean, would it hurt to at least check the listing to see?" I asked. "There could be a high-profile criminal on this world going for a few thousand at least."

Bastila sighed. "We are not going to hunt for people. But I suppose if we all chipped in, we could hunt for plates. At least enough to get the starting bid of 5,000 credits."

5,000 credits? Hoh boy.

"Yeah, that's gonna be next to impossible, sunshine." I stared at the credit pile once more. "Hey, isn't your father a hunter? Maybe he could help us out since you're related and all. He could tell us the best places to hunt, what creatures pull the best prices...that sort of thing. And you'll also have a happy reunion."

Bastila became cold in the bond the instant I mentioned her father. "I...can't believe you remembered that detail. But, yes, when I last saw him he worked as a hunter. And I guess he would be able to give us advice..."

I waved a hand. "See? It all works out in the end."

In the bond, I could feel her trying to suppress her emotions. Keyword being "try." I smirked at her and she shot me a look back—obviously not liking that I knew she was eager to see her father again.

Early the next day, we once again marched through the streets of Anchorhead. The dark corners of the markets bustled with the sound of illegal duels, bets, and gang fights. Bastila, Juhani, and myself weaved through the crowd while Mission skipped ahead of us towards the tallest adobe building in this sector of the city.

"Come on, slowpokes!"

We rushed after the Twi'lek towards the Czerka hunting lodge.

Inside, the cold air took me off guard along with the continued bustle within. More of those hunters crowded around screens hanging from the walls—a few pulled carts to the Czerka representatives minding a storage container. Some of the hunters shoved me aside as we strode into the building.

I spoke back at the ladies. "So, this is where you got the hunting license?"

Bastila nodded. "We should be able to look up a record of my father. They'll know where he is now. If he's not here at the moment..."

"Right, if there is one thing Czerka is good at, it's keeping records," I said.

Mission bent over one of the tables in the room. A few of the hunters were playing a round of pazaak as they waited for the bounty boards to clear.

"So…" I glanced Bastila's way. "While you look for your father, Juhani and I will see what they have to offer at the bounty boards."

Bastila frowned. "You mean...by myself?"

A twitch of fear flowed through the bond.

I tilted my head. "I...don't you want some privacy? We'll just get in the way."

"I suppose…"

I patted her shoulder. "Look, everything will be fine, Bas. No need to worry. We'll be right over there if you need us."

With a final pat, I shoved through the crowd towards the boards. Yes, that had been one reason I left her. Another was I didn't want her to notice who, exactly, I was looking for.

Juhani trailed behind me and Mission sat with the hunters at the pazaak table. The Cathar, ever silent, watched me with those yellow eyes. She didn't say anything as I waved through the listings, past anything that was recent…

With a press, I stopped the scrolling.

It was there in fine print. High risk. Target: a small boy named Liam. The boy cannot speak Basic. Last seen on Manaan. Offering 20,000 credits for his safe return. Below was a picture of Liam. And next to that...the symbol of the Exchange. I squinted. For some reason, the Exchange had put a bounty on a child. Why? Certainly, it explained why Brejik had him—probably was going to pass him along to Davik to pay for his "debts."

But why would the Exchange want someone like that while also marking it high risk?

Fortunately, the bounty had been marked as delivered but not processed. Which meant Liam was here, somewhere, yet hadn't been taken off-world. Probably because Davik...well...

"Gale?" Juhani's voice broke through my racing thoughts. "You've been staring at that one bounty for a while."

"We need to find this boy."

"But it's been—"

"I know who he is." I met Juhani's gaze. "Czerka wants to give him to the Exchange. There is no way I'm going to let that happen."

"The Exchange?" This caused the Jedi to tense. "I see...well then, we'll just have to investigate, won't we?"

A smirk graced my face. It was a rare day the Cathar listened to me. "They must be holding Liam at the Czerka headquarters here. That's where they would keep all their credits. All we'd have to do is—"

However, before I continued with my plan, a cold, dark sensation crawled up my spine.

Bastila.

Something was wrong.

I didn't give Juhani another look before I shoved the hunters out of the way. Not again…I almost knocked over the pazaak tables as I rushed towards the Czerka reps. Fortunately, I spotted Bastila right away, however, there were no red lightsabers. No cold Sith assassins. Because the cold was coming from her.

Her shoulders were tight—she gripped the datapad in her shaking hands. I was almost afraid that she was going to break it in two. The Czerka employee she stood in front of was sweating pools from both the heat and the Jedi before him.

I sent a warm sensation through the bond and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Bondy? You alright—?"

She threw the datapad onto the desk with a clatter. I would have flinched with the employee if I hadn't already sensed her suppressed...grief. Before I could comfort her...or do anything to help, Bastila pushed my chest and stormed through the crowds and out into the dangerous market streets. Juhani, not knowing what happened, rushed after her while Mission met my gaze from the pazaak tables.

The datapad still glowed. I picked up the offending object and read the words that caused the stalwart Jedi to run.

Shan: Terminated License; Deceased.

I dropped the datapad on the desk then glared at the Czerka employee.

"Deceased? What does that mean?"

The employee sneered. "It means what it means."

"But...it's a mistake, right?"

"Czerka doesn't mark anyone dead 'by mistake.' Now...are we done—?"

I banged a fist on the desk.

"What about Ms. Shan?"

"Look, spacer, we don't keep a record of our employee's spouses. You can look up the ID of his old apartment though and find her yourself."

I glanced down at Mr. Shan's records. What the Czerka employee said was true, the location of his old apartment had been noted along with other useless facts about the man. Except for one fact—despite him saying they didn't keep a record of spouses, a "Helena Shan" was included in those records. Her license had also been terminated yet instead of Deceased it read Retired.

Then at least she had someone...right?

I rushed through the crowd after Bastila. Mission joined me with a serious look on her face.

"What happened? Are the Sith…?"

I responded with a quick shake of my head.

Outside, we found both of the Jedi beneath the building's awning. Bastila sat cross-legged on a mat in deep meditation while Juhani stood over her with confusion written on her features. In the bond, that familiar numb sensation returned. And in the void, a whisper echoed over and over again.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

I met the Cathar and Mission's gaze before I kneeled before the meditating Jedi.

"Bastila?" She didn't say anything and I didn't dare touch her while she was in this...trance. I sighed. "I saw...on the datapad. Your father—"

"This was a mistake." She opened her gray eyes. They were emotionless. Cool. As if she had seen a stranger's name marked dead instead of her father's. "I see that now." Bastila stood and didn't look me in the face as she marched off. "I am...a detriment to the mission at this time. Just...get as many credits as you can. I will return to the Ebon Hawk for now."

I stood as well and made to go after her. "But—"

"For once in your life—just once— do what you're told ." Her back tightened again. "Comm if you need me."

And, for once, I listened as she stormed through the marketplace back towards the spaceport alone. And even though her walk was controlled, perfect, a storm of emotions ruled the bond between us.

Sweat beaded down my brow. The Tatooine desert disappeared into the horizon and the only thing in the haze was the city of Anchorhead. I pulled my lightsaber out of the body of wraid number...I wasn't counting. Juhani kicked the large mass of her quarry from her killing blow. It fell with a thud into the soft sands.

The Cathar waved at her wraid.

"You wanna do the honors?"

I grimaced. "Honestly? No."

But like all the others, I carved a cross-section of the plate sitting on top of its skull. And it was a slow process due to the toughness of the creature's hide. After ten minutes of sawing, the wraid's plate detached itself from its fat head.

One more...

The sound of a speeder echoed from below the dune. Mission—who insisted that she knew how to drive—stopped the vehicle an inch before it collided with me. And it probably would have hit me if I didn't sense the oncoming blow.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Mission jumped from the speeder and inspected the wraid plate. She held a datapad with all of the records provided by Czerka. "Hmm...I think this one is…"

Juhani peered closer. "Yes?"

"Fifty."

I stopped myself from throwing my lightsaber into the sand.

"Fifty ?"

"Hey! I'm not lying. This guy's small fry."

"Small fry?" Juhani hissed. "These are the biggest ones we've seen out here."

I gritted my teeth before stabbing my lightsaber into the wraid corpse. Based on the position of the suns, we'd been going at this...all day. The Czerka cargo container we hauled behind the speeder was half-filled with those plates. However, even if we spent all day and night filling it, the wraid plates we were getting barely make the cut.

Using the Force, I flipped the steaming plate into the cargo container with a clang.

"How many does that make?"

Mission rubbed her chin. "Sixty maybe?"

I took my lightsaber then kicked the corpse of the wraid. That action only bruised my toes and my ego.

"This is next to impossible." In the distance, many dark speeders raced across the desert, kicking up sand. More hunters. Most of them worked in twenty-man teams. "Especially when we have...unfriendly competition."

Juhani watched the speeders racing through the desert as well.

"What are you thinking, Gale?"

I rubbed my forehead of sweat with my loose sleeve. "I'm thinking that I want a drink."

"No—I mean—do you have a plan?"

I sighed. "Why does everyone seem to think that I have a plan?"

"Probably because you always seem to have one?" Mission said.

But...those plans usually went wrong. I had to wonder why people still trusted me at this point. Instead of arguing with the Twi'lek, however, I rubbed my chin and watched the sifting sands beneath my boots. Then, I glanced up again and narrowed my eyes at the other hunter's containers. Most were filled to the brim—so if we wanted to...swap they would realize what we had done immediately.

The wraid corpse I'd finished chopping up had begun to collect flies.

"Hmm." I rubbed the back of my head with a grin. "Well, maybe I do."

The twin suns had begun to sink below the horizon.

Our container, which had been half-full previously, was now almost spilling out into the sands. I drove the speeder past the train of hunters and most if not all of them gawked at me as we flew past. All of their containers had the same Czerka insignia painted on the side. Perfect. A smirk carved on my face as I glanced back at Mission and Juhani. The blue Twi'lek chuckled while the Cathar shook her head.

"Hopefully this works, Gale."

"Don't worry." I winked. "My plans never fail."

I spotted one of the marginally full containers—one that was "less full" than ours. The Gamorrean snorted as we backed our goods besides his own. I called down to the pig.

"Hello, fellow hunter! Mind if you watch this for a bit? Need to collect the other from the boss-man." I made sure to glare menacingly at him. "If you lay a hand on any of the goods...you'll have him to answer to."

The Gamorrean huffed—spittle flew from his mouth. "Whatever."

I detached the container with a flick of a lever then drove off into the dunes once more. Mission kicked the back of my seat as she laughed her head tails off.

"Bwahaha, that pig's never gonna see it coming!"

I parked the speeder behind one of the dunes, making sure we were out of view from the Czerka loading station. We couldn't wait too long or the pig would get bored and abandon our container, but we had to wait so that more loaded up next to the one we left.

While we waited, Mission cleared her throat.

"So, what happened to Bastila back there?"

I gripped the steering wheel and glanced up at the teen through the rearview mirror.

"It's...not my place to say."

"Why? Cause there's no way she'll say anything about it to us after she just...stormed off like that."

Juhani crossed her arms but otherwise made no comment. She hadn't probed about what happened to Bastila, but—of course —it was because she was a Jedi. Mission, on the other hand, actually seemed to care about feelings and emotions. So, I couldn't just leave her in the dark.

"Her father…passed."

This caused the Twi'lek to gasp.

"Oh, I see…" Mission sighed. "Sorry I…"

"Don't apologize."

Fortunately, I was able to leave it there. We had waited long enough. I started the engine again and drove back to the loading station.

The Gamorrean was still there. Only now more of his containers surrounded the one I "planted." Perfect. I stopped the speeder then pretended to search before I addressed the Gamorrean I'd spoken to before.

"Err...this is a little embarrassing…"

He snorted. "Speak up, human."

"What container is mine?"

And this was why I'd picked a Gamorrean. Because I knew the pig's greed wouldn't pass up the opportunity to scam a "stupid" human. And it would be because of his idiocy that he wouldn't realize that we had been the one to pull off the scam.

The pig pointed at his own container with an eruption of snorts that would be laughter to the Gamorrean ear. I nodded and backed up into his container in order to attach it to the speeder. Without another word to the pig, I drove away with our new haul filled to the brim with pristine wraid plates—ones that would for sure fetch a better price than the ones we'd left behind.

Juhani leaned close to me as we drove towards the Czerka garages. "So...what will happen when they discover we filled that thing with wraid corpses? What if they try to take back what we stole ?"

"We'll be long gone by then," I said.

"Is...I'm not sure if the Masters would approve."

"Even if it was for the greater good?" I snorted. "Of course they wouldn't 'approve.'"

"Wes...saying things like that...it's reckless."

I smirked at the young Jedi. "I told you, Juhani. I'm a bad influence."

"Right." She sighed. "I'm starting to believe that now…"

10,000 credits. That had been the result of our first day of "wraid plate" hunting. We'd lucked out—or the Force had been with us. Each plate went for around 100 and despite having to deal with Czerka taking a cut, we were sitting pretty now credit-wise.

Carth could not believe it when I showed him the credit slip. Mission hummed with suppressed joy while Juhani sighed once more—if the Cathar sighed again, I wouldn't be surprised if she turned into a Master herself.

The pilot glared at me. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" I raised my hands. "Why do you always assume I did something?"

"Because there is no way you could have gotten this many credits hunting wraids ."

"What if we just got lucky?"

Carth did not look convinced. However, instead of him insisting on getting answers like usual, he flung the credit slip into my face.

"Fine. But if we get into any trouble, you'll be the one who has to deal with it."

I took the slip with a salute. "Ay, ay, cap'n."

Now, we had a day to waste before the auction. Then, once we had the droid, we could finally get the Star Map, rescue Liam, and leave this terrible...terrible planet. I marched into the main hold while pocketing the credits.

Then, that numb sensation returned to the bond. It was coming from the east dorms—she was probably meditating her emotions away in there…

I grabbed something quick to eat in the kitchen and sat with it in the main hold. It wasn't so that I could catch her once she left the dorms. No, of course not. I just like sitting there. Bastila Shan didn't need my help. There is no emotion, there is peace and all. Yet, still, a bitter taste interrupted the enjoyment of my lovely soup.

A hiss. I flinched and glanced up at the noise.

Bastila stood in the door frame, completely unfazed, and emotionless. She walked with her head held high towards the kitchens. Somehow, she didn't meet my gaze despite passing me. I stared down at my half-eaten bowl of soup.

Of course I followed her.

The Jedi had synthesized some boring crap—rice and some kind of egg in a bowl. She sat, alone, in the canteen. Methodically, like a droid, she dipped a spoon into that mush and stared off into the ethers of the ship.

Without asking to be invited, I collapsed into the chair in front of her. She tried to hide a glare, but I felt annoyance anyway. Good. Any emotion was better than that empty...void. Normally, I would have gone on about how she missed out on my hijinks and mishaps. Gone into detail about how we scammed a Gamorrean out of 10,000 credits. She probably would have shouted at me for it too. But...there were better times for jokes. And for Bastila, now, with her father dead—she didn't need an asshole.

Once she realized I wasn't going to say anything—for once—Bastila resumed her stare-down with her meal. Returning to her own little world. I finished my own soup in silence while watching her occasionally bite at her rice.

She hadn't shed a tear. Not one since realizing her father had passed. Because there is no emotion, there is peace. Yet, was there peace? There couldn't truly be peace when she denied herself emotions like that. Human emotions.

When she finished, I picked up her bowl before she did. I could tell she was going to protest, but I ignored her as I threw the bowls into the sink and began to rinse away the gunk. As I washed, the bond grew numb. So numb. It felt like torture. I had to do something. Say something.

"Helena is the name of your mother, right?"

I had to make sure. For all I knew, her father could have remarried. Unfortunately, she didn't answer me. However, the numbness broke apart with a flicker of astonishment. As if she was shocked that I'd known that information.

The gunk swirled around down the drain and I set aside the bowls. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge... Her thoughts continued on like this over and over.

And I couldn't take it anymore.

Before she could sense anything unusual, I rushed over and grabbed her wrist, tugging her to her feet. She yelped and pulled back as I dragged her into the garage. However, I held her tight—hopefully not too tight but she was making this difficult.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!"

There was a slight tingle of a Force wave, but I had expected it so I brushed it off. I punched the button to open the ramp and the cold afternoon hit me—the binary suns still setting. Warm lights of the spaceport flickered on as the light of day disappeared. Bastila squirmed, but I didn't let go. If I let go, then this torture would continue. I stomped down the ramp as it lowered—still somehow dragging the Jedi with me. Meanwhile, Bastila continued to focus a nasty Force attack into my back.

When my feet touched the concrete, I couldn't defend myself any longer. I was forced to release her and was flung to the hard ground. Before she could run back into the ship, I focused my attention on the Ebon Hawk. Concentrating, I twisted my hands, bending the Force to lift the ramp closed.

She tried to use the Force on it back, but it was too late. The seams hissed together. The ramp had shut.

Both of us fell silent

I picked myself up, wincing at the few bruises I more than likely deserved. Bastila's face looked blustered in the dim lights.

She held up a comm.

"Carth!"

Kriff.

I snatched the device from her.

"Give that back you nerf herder!" she shouted, jumping for the comm.

Fortunately, I was able to pull my arm up fast enough so that she couldn't reach. Unfortunately, that also put me off balance. So, when she collided with me, we collapsed together in a heap. Her sharp elbows knocked the air from my lungs and the comm clattered out of my hand.

She reached above my head and stole the comm back with the Force. However, before she could escape, I grabbed her right wrist, smiling a victory. That victory, however, didn't last when her left palm smashed into my face. I flinched as her fingers came a bit too close to stabbing my eyes out.

" Kriff —are you trying to blind me?"

She ignored my shouting but instead of poking my eyes, she covered them. I tried to peel her hand away from my face with the Force, however, she didn't budge.

"Let go!" she shouted.

"Why the hell should I?"

"Because I ordered you to!"

"What authority do you have over me anyway?"

"As the appointed leader of this mission, I order you to release me!"

"Oh yeah? What'll you do if I don't?"

The comm hissed above me. " Erm ...what are you two doing?"

Both of us paused in our struggles. It was then that I realized how close we were to each other. If her presence in the Force hadn't already overpowered everything around her, it did now. Her hot breath tickled my forehead, her legs straddled me to the ground, her soft hand on my face, the sound of a strong yet delicate heart somehow louder than the rumbling of the Ebon Hawk.

I slowly smirked. "Well, if you wanted to be on top, you could've just asked."

Those words did more to make her drop the comm than any Force wave as she danced off of me in disgust. Ah-ha! Success. Finally able to see, I sat up and grabbed the comm with a sigh.

"We're fine, Carth," I said. "I'm just taking Bastila to a family reunion—"

The comm was snatched from my hand.

"Open the ramp," Bastila ordered. "Don't listen to this perverted Hutt slug."

" Perverted Hutt slug ?" I shouted. " You're the one who pounced me ."

If I looked hard enough within the dim lights, I could swear I saw the beginnings of red coloring her cheeks.

The comm flicked on again. "Look, can both of you come to some sort of agreement? I'm not manning the ramp all evening."

I had to be quick, so I shot to my feet.

"You won't have another chance to talk to her about him, you know."

She gripped the comm tight in her raised fist, so much so that I thought she was going to break the device. Finally, she twisted around to face me, her gray eyes fierce.

"Why do you care ?" She stabbed her finger multiple times into my chest. "You—Wesley Gale—the most egotistical, vile, selfish man I have ever met should be the last person to care."

A part of me winced at those harsh words. But...instead of shouting denials, I smiled with a raised brow. She was baiting me. I wasn't going to fall for it.

"I already told you, sunshine. You'll have to deal with the way that I am."

She opened her mouth once then twice before growling. "We will not visit my mother. My decision is final."

"Oh really? And how did you reach that conclusion?"

"Because, as a Jedi—"

"Stop making that idiotic excuse." When she flinched, I gazed up into the setting suns. "What is the real reason you refuse to see your mother? It's not because attachments are bad or anything like that. It's because you're afraid." She remained silent, still simmering from my words. "Someone told me once that I needed to face my fears. So, then, why are you running from yours?"

Her face had become stone—her eyes glazed. Instead of that numb sensation within the bond, there was a tidal wave of emotion so intense that I didn't even know what I felt anymore.

Eventually, she snapped out of it. But, instead of rushing for the comm again, she turned and staggered to one of the benches at the side of the spaceport. She collapsed onto the bench and held her forehead. I followed her lead and sat beside her. And, for the next few minutes, we stared out at the quiet chaos of the mechanic droids and shuttles.

When the binary suns finally set, I interrupted the quiet.

"There was once a smuggler—a Duros with a name that no one remembers."

She finally stopped hiding her face from me as she sat up. Giving me that familiar exacerbated look.

"One day, he was invited to this huge smuggling run that guaranteed riches beyond his imagination. However, his crew convinced him that they were more likely to either be locked up for good or die in a skirmish on the way there. Very high risk."

Bastila didn't respond as I continued my inane rambling.

"Turns out that the survivors of that run became millionaires. So, the poor, poor Duros wondered, 'What if I had gone on that run? Would I be a millionaire? Or was my crew correct? Would we have died without a credit to our name.' And guess what? He wondered and wondered for the rest of his pathetic life as his pockets grew emptier and emptier."

She looked up into my eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

I smiled thinly, placing my hands in my pockets. "I had a...mentor who was like a mother to me. Would always tell me those kind of stories without prompt like that. Told me I had to 'think for myself' whenever I asked her what it meant. Most of the time it was just...annoying." I chuckled. Foggy memories of my time under her wing flashed through my mind. It had been...a long time since I'd thought about it. "Eventually, she died on a run. Very high risk but...she would have regretted not doing it for the rest of her life. After that, I swore that if I ever regretted not doing something, I sure as hell would do it."

Bastila raised an eyebrow, however, she remained strangely silent after I said those words—as if she was actually considering them.

"...of course."

I tilted my head. "Hmm?"

"Nothing." She stood, her stance more confident than it was before. "I admit, this has become a bit of a...distraction." I stood with her and before I celebrated, she raised a hand. "But we leave when I say we leave. You will not force me to stay."

I nodded. "Of course. We'll stay as long as you feel comfortable."

With that, Bastila strode forward, leading me as if meeting her mother had been her idea all along.

Helena lived close to the back alley slums, so walking there without getting mugged by gangsters had been a pain. Fortunately, after fifteen minutes, we arrived at the humid apartment block. After climbing the steps to floor three, we found the Shan residence. Broken beer and ale bottles lined the wall and I sneered at the smell of that speeder fuel. The Jedi hesitated before knocking on the door. Yet Helena hadn't emerged. Surely she would be home at this time? Had she...passed out drunk?

Before we both gave up to try during the day, a Twi'lek woman called to us from down the hall.

"You looking for Helena?"

I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. "Why? Do you know where she is?"

"Do I know where she is? Probably making a racket at the cantina down the street." The Twi'lek snorted. "If you run into the old bag, can you tell her to actually pay her rent on time for once?"

The landlord passed us once more towards the steps leading outside. Through the bond, I could feel Bastila's urge to run away again. So, I took the Jedi by the shoulders and led her out of there.

"No second thoughts now."

She glared up at me. "I wasn't going to—"

"And I'm the Grand Master."

It took Bastila and I longer than necessary to even find the street, and even longer to figure out that the only cantina nearby was on the second floor of a pawn shop. The place was ironically named "The Light Side."

We both entered the establishment—cigar smoke and strong alcohol flooded our senses. There were fewer people than the first cantina we visited on the planet. This one obviously was a local dive. I glanced around at the sparse amount of aliens and humans before meeting Bastila's hesitant gaze. I pushed her forward with a smile.

Huffing, she stomped towards the bar. There, an older woman sat—staring into her drink—ignorant of the Jedi that stopped behind her. I hovered behind Bastila, enough so that I wouldn't intrude on their conversation.

It took the older woman a moment to realize that Bastila was there. When she did, the woman placed her glass down and eyed the Jedi suspiciously.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"It's me, mother. Or do you not recognize your own daughter?"

The older woman, Helena, sat back and gave Bastila her full attention. Wrinkles of both age and stress lined the woman's face and her eyes were an exact replica of Bastila's.

"What do you expect?" Helena didn't look into her daughter's face. "I haven't seen you since you left. I've been trying to contact you."

"You knew as well as I that communication would be impossible after I joined the Order."

"I know." Helena took a drink from her glass. "But I had to try."

"Why? Because you wanted to tell me that Father is dead ?" Anger flared from within the bond. "What happened? What did you do to him?"

My hand gripped her shoulder to hold her back even though she hadn't moved to do anything. She tightened beneath my touch, but for once she didn't shake me away.

Her mother twisted to her right in order to address me. "Isn't this a lovely reunion? Already she's flinging insults at me. Do you treat your mother this way?"

Burning fields. Destruction. Mandalorians.

"My mother's been long dead, if you must know," I replied, face stiff.

She frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. I guess I will be joining her soon."

Joining her?

Bastila shoved my hand away from her shoulder. "Father's friend told me you were sick. Are you really dying or is this merely melodrama for my benefit?"

"Such sweet things you say." Helena sat back, putting down her glass. "Sit and I'll tell you everything. Hopefully, before you start flinging insults again."

I sat, taking the chair farthest from Helena, forcing Bastila to sit between us. She glared at me before she returned that anger to Helena. "You could start by telling me what you got father into that killed him," she said, crossing her arms.

"I hadn't realized Jedi were so spiteful." Her mother sighed. "You never accepted that your father loved going on his hunts, leaving you alone with me. I was always to blame for everything. What else is new?"

I leaned in close. "You're being a bit unfair, you know."

"Unfair ?"

However, before Bastila could shout at me further, her mother continued. "But fine, yes. I took your father to Tatooine to look for krayt dragon pearls. He took an expedition a year ago and died."

Another krayt dragon. Always the damn krayt dragons.

Bastila leaned forward. "How do you know that? Father is an experienced—"

"Do you think I would have tried finding you if I didn't know for sure? He went with an entire group of hunters and found a krayt dragon in a cave. One of them fled the battle. He only lived long enough to tell us...what happened."

The Jedi drooped, the small amount of hope I sensed within her faded. Before I tried to comfort her, a wave of fever-like anger returned in the bond.

"Why were you trying to contact me? What do you want? Credits?"

Helena's shoulders dropped. "Is it too much to ask to fulfill your dying mother's wish? I want you to go find him. I want your father's holocron."

That's when Bastila stood. I flinched at her anger.

"I'm not father, mother. If you want something done, do it your bloody self."

I shot up from the bar.

"Bastila—"

But, before my words even left my mouth, she already stomped out of the cantina. Below, Helena grasped her drink in a hand and drained the contents. I glared down at the woman.

"Why can't you get this holocron yourself, Ms..."

"No need for that. Call me Helena." She lowered her glass then crossed her arms as if cold. "And I can't afford another expedition. Not since my husband's death."

"And you think Bastila can defeat a krayt dragon by herself?"

She shrugged. "She's a Jedi, isn't she? And she has you...you are also a Jedi, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then is there a problem?"

I pursed my lips, feeling both my and Bastila's anger melding together towards this woman.

"Of course there's a problem! Didn't your husband die in the first place because you suggested this planet? Because you sent him off after a krayt dragon of all things?"

Helena huffed, staring down and away from me at the table—acting guilty?

"You're right I...I was a terrible mother to her and a terrible wife to my husband. I never wanted to have a child. Even so, I had Bastila. It was never fair of me to punish her for my mistakes. And now I'm being selfish yet again." My gaze softened as she stared up at me, familiar gray eyes drooping. "I don't expect you...you...what was your name?"

"Wes Gale."

"Yes, Mr. Gale. You can tell Bastila that she doesn't have to do this for me. Just seeing her, one last time, is enough."

After that, Helena called over the waiter droid and snapped at it for another drink. The cold air hit like a wall when I exited the humid cantina, the stars above many. Tatooine's two moons hung high above in the sky. From the second floor of the building, I glanced around, trying to find Bastila. However, this time I listened to our bond as soon as she disappeared from sight. I sensed her somewhere near the street a few meters away. Spotting a shadow sitting on a bench, I ducked under an overhang as I climbed down the stairs.

Her eyes were closed as she tried to calm herself through mediation or through the code. I slid beside her on the bench while gazing up at the Tatooine stars.

"So, are you going to get the holocron or...?"

After a moment of her meditation, she sighed. "If I ever tried finding my father's holocron...it wouldn't be for her ."

Well, that sounded rather unlike her. After a minute of silence, I leaned on my knees.

"Why did you run away?"

She opened her eyes, a calm finally returning to them. "You promised that I could leave whenever I felt uncomfortable."

"You weren't uncomfortable. Just angry."

"I wasn't supposed to be angry." She grasped the bench. "I lost myself in there. Any longer and I would have—"

"Fallen to the dark side?"

But instead of answering me with a snappy "yes" or rolled eyes, she sighed. "I'd like to think that I'd never fall to the dark side. Anyone would like to think that. But...the truth is anyone can fall. Juhani, the Masters, me...you."

I laughed once. "Why do you keep saying that? It's a rather depressing way to view the Force. And, really, you shouldn't be worrying so much. You're too good of a person to fall."

She pulled a hand through her hair. "It's not enough to be a good person," she said. "All emotions are dangerous. I've told you this over and over and still you don't understand. Attachments—"

"And being frustrated about it isn't dangerous?" When she froze, mouth hanging open, I continued. "I might be just some naïve Padawan, but which emotion is worse to have about your mother? Anger? Hate? Fear? Or forgiveness? Acceptance? Even love? Because I know the answer."

Her mouth opened and closed once then twice before she drooped, holding her head as she leaned forward. A wave of doubt passed her mind, doubt about leaving her mother, doubt about how she reacted.

Finally, after another minute passed, she stood.

"There is no emotion, there is peace."

And with those terse words, she stormed away into the night.