Sunry raised his white brows at me as I stepped into the interrogation room. The Selkath officer had been insistent that only his arbiter would be allowed to speak to the suspect. Bastila and Jolee were forced to wait in the lobby as I was led into the depths of the Ahto City Prison.

The door behind me shut with a hiss—locking. No cameras, the officer warned. This was because while the treaty demanded surveillance, the courts still wanted to preserve Sunry's rights to discuss his charges privately with an arbiter. The suspect would remain cuffed as a security precaution.

Not that I had much to worry about.

The room was bare—nothing but a table and two chairs. I let out a long sigh and sat, rubbing my forehead. Already exhausted. Sunry glanced at the door suspiciously then, leaned forward.

"Is...is this a rescue?" he whispered.

I flinched. "Huh?"

"You know." His eyes moved to the door. "Did they...order you to get me out?"

"What? No!" I leaned forward, pointing at the table. "I'm your arbiter."

That caused him to sit back, shocked. "You're my arbiter? Really? A smuggler turned Jedi is supposed to convince three fish that I'm innocent?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Hey, I'd be grateful if I were you. No one else was jumping to your defense."

"Why are you jumping to my defense?" he asked. "What's in it for you?"

Yeah, why was I doing this? Oh, right.

"If I don't, a lot of people will die. The Selkath will take away the Republic's kolto." I sat back. "And I happen to think you're innocent."

That caused the old soldier to relax his shoulders. He brought his cuffed hands up onto the table and rubbed his balding head, releasing a held breath. Sunry spoke to the table.

"The case is a complete frame-up. Anyone looking at the evidence could see that—or so I thought. But the Selkath seem to think that there's enough to go to trial."

"Some witnesses stated they saw you running from the scene."

He laughed once. "Well, that wasn't me. Obviously."

I raised a brow. A lie. Already?

"I find that hard to believe. Your face was plastered across the city for days due to your retirement. And three people are saying it's you—"

"It's a frame-up, son." He finally looked up from his staredown with the table. "Do you understand what that means? A conspiracy. These 'witnesses' were paid and threatened by the Sith to make up a story. Oh, and it conveniently happened somewhere the cameras were taken down? Bantha poo doo."

In normal circumstances, I may have trusted the old soldier. Yet...

"I'd believe the Sith would pay one person to place you at the scene. But three? If any one of those witnesses made a mistake in their story, the Sith would be in trouble. I don't think they're that stupid." I crossed my arms. "You have to tell the truth, Sunry. I can't help you if you aren't upfront with me. Were you there last night? Did you meet with the Sith?"

His wrinkled face shifted—from frantic to tight—and the annoyed light in his eyes darkened.

"You catch on quick. Maybe there is hope for you…" He sighed. "I did meet Elassa there last night. But it's not what you think! I...I was working with Republic Intelligence. We were pretending to feed information to the Sith while I turned Elassa into a double agent working for us. It was going well, too...until she turned up dead. Hmm...maybe the Sith found out I was turning her and had her eliminated—"

"You're lying to me. Again." I pounded the table then gritted my teeth. Why and how did I think this would be easy? "You told Jolee and I that you were leaving with your wife today. If you were trying to turn Elassa into a double agent, you wouldn't be retiring at all, would you?"

Sunry tilted his head. "Are you sure you think I'm innocent? They worried for my safety and had me pulled from the mission."

Another kriffing lie!

"Why would they do that if things were 'going well?'" I asked. "And why would they assign you this in the first place? You're telling me there aren't enough Republic spies to go around that they need an old General to stand in? Not to mention you somehow seduced a beautiful Sith woman. Which, frankly, I find hard to believe."

He flinched and then completely ignored me. "T-Think about this—she was a Sith, right? A dark Jedi even! I'm just a crippled old man! My war injuries make it difficult for me to walk even to hold things. See how my hands are shaking!" He lifted his bound hands. They were indeed shaking. But that really could have been because he was afraid of what I'd insinuated. "How could I kill a Sith warrior at close quarters? I ask—"

"Were you having an affair with Elassa?" He went quiet after I asked that. "Just come clean."

The old soldier lowered his hands, once again giving me that look, then sighed. "Oh...dank farrick. Yes. Yes we were having an affair."

I waved. "Finally, the truth!" I shook my head. "Why did you? You have a wife!"

"I know it was wrong, but I'm a weak man!" Sunry's voice raised. "Elassa was beautiful and young—how was I to resist her charms?"

I scoffed. "Someone like her wanted to be with you? Really?"

"Why is my damn arbiter insulting me?" He pounded the table, shaking gone. "I didn't kill her! Why would I? I loved her!"

"Loved her did you?" I tried to hold back a laugh. "What aspect of her, exactly, did you fall in love with? Her winning personality? Or her—"

"Please, stay professional." His old face tightened. "I know I made a terrible mistake getting involved with Elassa, but I was going there to break it off. I did but found out later at the Embassy that she was dead. I don't deserve to go to jail just for having an affair, do I?"

No, no, he didn't. But that fact made things difficult for his defense. Elassa could have been a loose end that Sunry wanted to take care of before he moved planets with his wife. Or, at least, that is what the prosecution will say to convince the judges that Sunry had motive to kill her. If they learned he had an affair. Which…is likely given how much proof there was of said affair.

I crossed my fingers together. "Who could have killed Elassa then? Another Sith?"

"Sure." Sunry shrugged. "If they found out about us, they could have had Elassa killed for her betrayal. Then, after that, they decided to pin her murder on me to escape blame. They're Sith. It's what they do best."

Yes. This did seem to be the likely scenario. Penalty for failure is death… It would be common for the Sith to deal with failures like that. Not to mention that Sunry has everything to lose if he actually did kill Elassa. A retirement on Alderaan. A new start away from any and all responsibility. What idiot would screw that up with murder?

I stood from the table.

"Is there anything else? Anything or anyone at all that can help clear your name?"

The old soldier nodded. "Ambassador Roland Wann. I spoke to him last night. He can help prove my innocence."

It was something. Better than nothing. I moved away from Sunry and made for the door.

"Oh, and son?" I paused and turned to face the old soldier again. He sighed. "Tell Elora...that I'm sorry."

Scooping up the rest of my meal, I finished telling Jolee and Bastila what Sunry confessed. We'd left the prison and found a small street-side eatery to grab a bite while we waited for our appointment to look at the crime scene. Jolee gradually stopped playing with his seafood as I spoke and Bastila's face tightened.

"This makes Sunry's case even worse," she muttered.

"You're telling me," I said.

"Why would he…?" Jolee frowned. "I thought Sunry was stupid, but I didn't think he was this stupid. It's obvious the Sith woman was using him for something and the stubborn oaf won't see it."

"Yes, but use him for what?" I asked. "Sunry was retiring. What would the Sith want him for?"

Bastila sat back next to me in the booth. "He was in the military. He would...know important things about the Republic's defenses."

"Not enough—his position is just dressing. Unless the Sith plan to take Manaan, which I doubt, he wouldn't know anything…" I rubbed my chin. "Except maybe the Sith discovered that the Republic learned about their illegal underwater base. And in order to stay one step ahead of their investigation, they used Sunry? And when he announced his retirement...well, he wasn't useful anymore."

She twisted around, her eyes widened. "Wait, what? Roland Wann told us they weren't certain the Sith had broken the treaty."

"Yeah." I matched her troubled gaze. "It seems like the Ambassador has been keeping some things to himself."

Bastila sank in the booth, sliding her finished meal forward.

Jolee growled, stabbing his fish with a fork. "What the hell did Sunry get himself into?" The old man released his fork then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You two go ahead and sort out these witnesses. I...will head back to the hotel and talk to Elora."

"You're going to tell her?" I frowned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? The poor woman's already dealing with her husband's arrest—do we really need to pile this on too?"

Jolee glanced over at Bastila, narrowing his eyes. The Jedi didn't look back...ignoring him. Strange. He nodded, without turning away from the Jedi.

"She deserves to know the truth, doesn't she? It'll hurt her more if she hears it from someone else."

"Um, I guess?" I blinked. "Yeah. Good point." Bastila's shoulders sank at my words. Through the bond, I could sense the sadness that had disappeared from yesterday. "Is...everything alright?"

She didn't answer. She stood and picked up both my tray and hers—not the old man's. I stared after her with concern.

Jolee sighed.

The walk towards the inn pinpointed on my datapad map was almost made in complete silence. Bastila never looked up and avoided obstacles using the Force. I, on the other hand, did most of the work navigating. Even the gawkers who recognized her as the hero of the Republic didn't approach once they noticed her foul mood.

I stopped.

"Bastila?"

She also stopped, her shoulders sank lower, but she finally looked up at me.

"Yes?"

"Is there...something going on between you and Jolee?"

Her eyes flitted to the side. "No?"

A lie.

My jaw tightened. Bastila never lied like that to me before. Sure, she lied to me about her feelings and other minuscule things that I didn't fault her for. But to lie like this?

"Oh, really?" I looked at the ground. "Then why was he glaring at you like that? And why were you not looking at him?"

She sighed then began to walk. "Can this wait? We need to focus."

I followed and spoke over her shoulder. "You can tell me if you don't like the old man, you know. If he did something to upset you, I won't kill him. Promise. Though, I won't promise to not punch him in the face—"

"He didn't upset me." She walked faster. "It's just a...misunderstanding."

"Okay? About what?"

She stopped by a rail that overlooked the ocean and I stopped behind her. We remained silent for a minute.

"About...the Jedi. The Council."

Ah.

I rubbed the back of my head. "Oh. Yeah, Jolee is pretty opinionated about that for some reason. Probably shouldn't try to recruit him back to the Jedi—it'll just make him even more pissed off."

She responded with a simple nod. Once that was cleared up, we continued on our way to the crime scene. Bastila's tight posture had loosened again but that anxiety didn't go away. Guess I had to have a talk with the old man about this…

The inn we arrived at had been cordoned off by SFF shuttles and alarms. It appeared just as run-down as I expected it to be—most of the windows had been shuttered and there were blaster bolt marks on the walls. Multiple holocameras pointed at the inn along and the eager press spoke to their audience about the "murder on the ring" that occurred last night. Murder like this in Ahto City was a rarity. I thought I could escape the holocameras, but when I presented the Selkath overseeing the site with the datapad, they rushed over with mics extended. Demanding details about the "arbiter of Sunry's case." How was the deed committed? Did Sunry show any remorse? What was the motive? The pressure of all this attention stunned me, yet I snapped out of it after Bastila pushed me past the line through the door.

It hissed closed behind us.

"Kriffing hell…it's like a space battle out there…" I muttered. "Do they really have to do that?"

Bastila sighed. "I knew this would happen."

"Right." I watched the crowd outside the window. "Wait, did you have to deal with all of this attention back on the Core worlds?"

She didn't answer for a moment. "When my role as the Battle Meditator was leaked…yes. I…became the face of the war effort."

"Leaked, huh? Force, sorry. Sounds terrible."

I did not envy her for a second. As a smuggler, I was used to going unnoticed. To spend even a minute in the spotlight…it was still sending creeped-out shivers down my spine. Bastila gave me a curious look that I returned by cocking a brow.

Inside, the cantina was lit up—the poles lacked dancing Twi'leks and the tables without pazaak players. No one drank at the bar. Eerie. The witnesses hadn't been allowed to leave their rooms since last night. They were separated to make sure they didn't corroborate their stories. Smart, but it made the inn a cold, lonely prison.

We made for the first marked off room. The bartender, a man named Firith Me, sat watching a holoscreen and shut it off after we entered. He was not happy. After all, he lost his job due to the criminal activities of the owner and now he had to go to court. Probably multiple times.

The man took a swig out of a bottle. He offered me a drink, and though I was tempted, it would have to wait till after this headache of an investigation.

Firith explained that it had been a quiet night—only a Twi'lek pazaak player and a shady Rodian were staying (other than the suspect and victim). Both had been staying there for the past two weeks. He took another drink as he told the story of what happened last night.

"Elassa used to rent rooms here every week or so. Sunry would come by a couple hours later and stay all night. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what was going on in there." He took a drink. "Last night, the Sith woman Elassa rented a room. As usual, Sunry arrives an hour later or so. Then a couple hours later I hear a blaster shot and see Sunry running out of Elassa's room."

I sank back. "So, Sunry left after the blaster shot?"

"Yup." He nodded quickly. "And for a supposed cripple he was running really fast."

Oh no. I shot Bastila a look and she returned it. This contradicted Sunry's story that a Sith came in and killed her after he'd left. In fact, why did he run from the scene in the first place? If Firith's word could be trusted.

"But you didn't actually see Sunry shoot her, did you?"

Firith shrugged. "No. But I keep an eye on anyone and everyone who enters the establishment. I would have noticed if someone else came in."

"Alright…" I sighed. "So, what did you do after?"

"I called the SSF. Of course. They then told me to stay in here."

This...testimony was concerning. But it was only one testimony. Sunry could have been partially correct. Maybe the Sith did pay off someone. And if they paid off anyone (to both plant evidence and tell a fabricated tale) it could possibly be the bartender. Of course, we needed proof. And other testimonies.

We moved on from the first witness and found the Rodian in the room next door. The poor alien flinched after we entered—his slit of a mouth wiggled and his bug-eyes somehow grew wider. A complete nervous wreck. The Rodian shivered as he told us what happened.

"Gluupor not see murder, oh no. Gluupor did see Republic guy...the cripple... Sunry his name, Gluupor thinks. Gluupor see Sunry running away from scene of crime. Gluupor didn't hear the blaster shot but did see the pazaak player standing in the hall. Gluupor see nothing else. Nothing else."

I let out a long sigh and scratched my head as I tried to piece together this damn testimony.

"Nothing else?"

"Gluupor would tell. Gluupor would."

Of course one of the damn witnesses was an oddball.

"Okay, so what happened after you saw Sunry run?"

Gluupor's buggy eyes shifted. "Gluupor...Gluupor doesn't know. Gluupor was told to go back in and stay put."

"Who told Gluupor...er...you to stay put?"

"F-Firith Me. The bartender." The Rodian shivered. "Gluupor didn't see the Selkath for hours. That's when they asked Gluupor what happened."

Hmm.

We both stepped back into the hall. Strange. For hours? The SSF should have arrived almost immediately after being called. The time allotted could be excused due to the fact the owner of this inn was doing illegal activities, but...a Sith had been murdered in the establishment. It would have been impossible to sweep something like that under the rug.

Gluupor's testimony meant there was a window of time for some shenanigans to take place. And the bartender Firith Me could have been a conspirator to those shenanigans. Or maybe… the SSF?

Bastila eyed me up and down—silently wondering why I had been standing outside the Rodian's room for so long deep in thought. Or checking me out. Maybe both?

She finally voiced her question. "What are you thinking?"

I released my chin. "I'm thinking that Gluupor has a few bolts loose."

"No, really." She tilted her head. "I'm…interested."

My eyebrow twitched and shot her a smirk. "Oh? Interested are you?"

Bastila nodded. "Yes. It's…sometimes I am fascinated with how your mind works. You come up with solutions quickly like when you thought up that plan with the sandcrawlers. Or with the Krayt Dragon. Or when you discovered the Wookiee traitor. Or…at the battle of Uyter. And it's…well, I don't know how you do it, really."

A grin spread slowly on my face as she spoke.

"Wait, are you saying that I'm...intelligent?"

She flinched and her face turned red.

"No! I mean, perhaps. A little."

I leaned closer to her, raising both brows. "I thought you were supposed to teach me to be more humble, sunshine."

"Well, yes, but you can only be humble after receiving praise. For example, a humble person would respond like… 'No, those successes were due to the will of the Force,' or 'No, we wouldn't have won without the team working together.'"

"Uh, but then wouldn't I be lying?"

She huffed. "No, you—what I'm trying to say is that just because you are intelligent it doesn't mean you get to brag about it."

"I think you're mistaking confidence with bragging."

"Well sometimes you are too confident. And too much confidence can be dangerous."

I smirked. "You seem rather confident about that."

She let out a long sigh. "It's not…you are just…it isn't a..." Her face stilled when she noticed my smirking face. "Forget it."

And she marched away towards the crime scene.

The door to the crime scene had been guarded by a Selkath officer. He allowed us in with a warning not to touch anything. Inside, the room appeared pristine. Curtains drawn over the window, caffa cups left sitting on the table, blood splatters painting the sheets. Well, I guess not entirely pristine. Blood wasn't exactly a part of the original decor.

I pulled out the datapad again to check for a detail. The scene shouldn't be this bloody, should it? Apparently, I'd skimmed the autopsy report. Elassa died by a blaster shot, yes, but she'd also been stabbed thirty times after she took her last breath. The stab wounds couldn't be linked to any weapon or object. So, whoever did that deed either destroyed the knife or hid it well.

My gaze passed across the bed. "You would think it would take an old man like Sunry a while to shoot and stab the Sith woman."

"Yes." Bastila walked up to my side. "And that bartender insisted that Sunry ran out immediately after he heard the blaster shot."

I smirked, rubbing a lip. "Sounds like a contradiction."

"So, you think someone paid him to plant evidence and tell a story?"

"I don't know. If so, he'd have to either not know that Elassa was stabbed or he made a mistake. Either way, we can really only rely on Firith Me for the entire picture of what happened in the lobby." I chuckled. "Maybe this pazaak player will know more…"

We left the crime scene and turned down the hall—Bastila followed close by my side.

She sighed again. "Why are you laughing?"

"You don't think that this is entertaining?"

"No! You should be taking this seriously."

I waved the door to the pazaak player's room. It hissed open. "Guess you aren't into mystery holos. I'll keep that in mind if we go out—"

I froze.

A blue Twi'lek stood near the window. A very familiar looking Twi'lek.

Mission's brother. Griff.

He didn't even react to my approach. One moment, I was standing next to Bastila. The next I was lifting the Twi'lek off the ground by his collar, using a burst of the Force to keep him up there.

"What the—who—?" he stuttered.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I shouted, shaking him. "You have a lot of nerve—"

"Who—who are you?" he shouted back, flailing. "Put me down!"

I cinched his collar tighter, partially choking him. "Who...who am I?" My vision went red. "You mean...you don't remember almost murdering your own sister!"

Griff flinched and let out gasps of air. "Ah..." He coughed. "Oh...you're...that...that Jedi."

"Yeah. That Jedi." I pulled him closer so that I could stare him in the eyes. "You are so lucky I didn't let HK shoot your ass. You're lucky I'm not going to kill you now—"

"Wes! Let him go!"

Something grabbed my shoulder. I hissed in Griff's face before shoving him away—letting him go. The Twi'lek fell to the ground with a thump and he yelped in pain. Bastila sent me a glare and I glared back.

"What? That was justified!"

"Justified, maybe, but not during a murder investigation," Bastila hissed.

Griff groaned as he pushed himself back onto his feet, brushing his leather jacket.

"Look...guy. This is all just one big misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" The blood was pumping louder in my ears. "What the hell is there to misunderstand, exactly?"

Griff's face scrunched. "You weren't there. That bounty hunter was going to kill my little sis! And for what? Staying quiet about some Jedi she barely knows?" He rubbed his side, wincing. "Yeah, 'they're dead.' Totally. I could tell that insane bastard didn't believe her for one second. They just massacred an entire Sand People village. I saved her life!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Doesn't matter. Your actions almost killed her anyway!"

The blue Twi'lek's shoulders sank. "How was I supposed to know they'd use her like that? I thought they'd let us go..."

"Really? No one is that stupid. You told Calo to spare your own life!"

Griff huffed. "Can you stop yelling at me? I thought Jedi were supposed to be 'keepers of the peace…'"

Bastila interrupted me before I could describe the possibility that I'd keep his pieces.

"Yes. We are." She shot me a glare. "We're here to ask you about the murder that happened last night."

I waved at him. "There is no way we're going to listen to what he says. He can't be trusted."

"Wait, you two are the old man's arbiters?" Griff smirked. "Ha. Good luck."

I took a step forward—prepared to lift him off the ground again. Bastila pushed a hand on my chest.

"We have to listen to what he says." She let her arm fall back to her side. "He's going to be called into court."

I pursed my lips as I looked into her gray eyes. I sighed. "Fine." I shook my head. "Tell us what you saw. Also, how the hell are you able to afford renting a room like this? Or...anything at all. What did you steal?"

"I didn't steal anything. Pazaak player, remember? Saved up for a few weeks. I was hoping to hit the tournaments…there are a few coming up in the next month. Once I made it big there, I was going to start my own ale company. A competitor to Tarisian ale—"

"Get to the point."

Griff looked to the ground as he told us what he witnessed. "Well, I was in my room preparing for my next game when I heard a shot. I didn't open the door right away. Blaster shots mean bad news, usually, and I like my life as is. But after a minute, I peered out. Sunry was running away like his life depended on it. I saw him once. Some sort of old-time war hero against the Sith. Seen him last week going to Elassa's room—it's right next to mine. Kept me up half the night with their damn moaning and shouting—"

I interrupted him with a raised hand. "Stop. Please. I did not need that mental image." He snapped his mouth closed. "What about after?"

"Well, I went back into my room until those SSF officers showed up, of course. It would be stupid of me to get my nose into something like a Sith murder. Honestly, I should have just stayed in my room. Then I wouldn't have to deal with this...or you."

I tapped a foot as I stared into the blue Twi'lek's face. It didn't seem like he was lying. And, really, what he described matched his cowardly character. Yet...hadn't Gluupor said he saw the Twi'lek near the crime scene?

"So, you didn't go into the hall? Not once?"

Griff sighed. "How many times do I have to tell yah, Jedi? Not once."

My foot froze. Either Gluupor was lying. Or Griff. Unsurprisingly, I was leaning towards the latter despite the former being a nutjob. But it wouldn't be smart to reveal all my cards so that the idiotic Twi'lek could change his story.

Only it wasn't just that detail. All of these testimonies were contradicting each other. Who was telling the truth? The only similarity they had in their stories was that Sunry was there and that he ran away like he wasn't a cripple. No one actually knew what happened in the room.

I sighed. "This was almost a waste of our time…"

Without saying goodbye to Mission's brother, I turned and made to leave the place. Bastila hesitated to follow me.

"Wait!" Griff called out.

I groaned. "No!"

"Wha—hey! I didn't say anything yet."

"I know what you are going to ask." I turned and crossed my arms again. "I won't bring Mission here. You'll just make her upset again."

Griff sighed, rubbing his neck. "I know I messed up. I do. I...I thought distancing myself from Mission would have let her live a better life. Better if she didn't hang out with her failure of a brother. I know now that I made a mistake leaving her behind to fend for herself." He let one of his lekku roll off his shoulder. "I never got a chance to...apologize. Taris is...it was like a warzone. Was one. I should have known better. Please. I want to—"

"Well, it's a little too late, isn't it?"

I didn't let him respond as I stormed out of the room. My body had grown hot and...I wasn't sure if I could hold myself back from punching him in the face. Better to remove myself before I did something drastic.

Bastla rushed after me. "Wes!"

I marched through the lobby and past the SSF officers. I marched through the crowds of people who tried clamoring for answers again. Marched until I stopped at the railing overlooking the ocean. The salty wind blew over my face and the anger that had been flowing through my veins dissipated like the foaming waters.

A hand brushed my shoulder. Bastila took a deep breath as if she had been running. I didn't let her get a chance to scold me.

"That bastard really thinks he can get away with abandoning Mission like that with an apology?" I huffed. "She is his sister and he threw her to the side like garbage. And he wants Mission to forgive him like...like it didn't—"

"What happened?"

I flinched at the strange question.

"Huh?"

"What happened to the man who convinced me to see my mother?" Bastila grabbed my hand—sending warmth through the bond. "What happened...to the man who taught me how to truly forgive?"

"..."

Why? Why was I...angry? Mission's brother almost killed us with his idiocy, sure. His weak apology should piss me off, sure. He apologized though. Isn't that...supposed to be a good thing? How could that send me into a blinding rage? Really? It was unlike me—what the hell was wrong with me?

I blinked and my mind cleared again. "I…" I sighed. "Sorry, I…don't know what came over me there." I leaned on the railing, holding my head. "You're right. I'll...tell Mission about Griff. She can decide if she wants to see him or not." I pushed away from the rail. "For now let's just...go back to the hotel. I need to prepare for the trial." I smirked. "Can't fall flat on my face in the courtroom."

Her gray eyes scanned me. She closed those eyes with a smile then squeezed my hand.

We were stopped before we could enter the Takaon Hotel. A Republic soldier approached Bastila with a serious look on his face. He had been waiting there for hours with a message both for her and for the "arbiter of Sunry's case."

"Ambassador Wann has requested your presence at the Embassy at 0800 tomorrow morning, Commander Shan. There have been some developments."

And with that, the soldier was gone. What were we going to get ourselves into next? Whatever the Republic Ambassador was planning wasn't going to be another fun vacation package, that's for sure.

I followed Bastila into the hotel lobby. She...kept shooting these pained stares back at me after what happened. I'd already excused that burst of strange anger as being due to built-up stress, yet she didn't seem as convinced as I was. Really, maybe I just needed a nap? One preferably without any nightmares or visions.

Before I entered the elevator, Bastila grabbed my arm.

"Did you forget?"

I raised a brow. I forgot something? That's rare.

"What?"

She frowned. "I was serious before. We need to practice our stances. After this planet, we will be going to Korriban. We need to be prepared."

A smile climbed onto my face. "Oh, right, our date."

She slapped me in the arm and glanced at some tourists walking by.

"Shh! That isn't...it's not that."

"Really?" I pretended to think, looking off to the side. "I thought you said it was."

Her cheeks blushed. "That...that was just a stupid...a stupid thought. A mistake."

"What about the trial? I need to focus on that, right?"

Her reddened face cooled, turning serious once more. "You were barely able to do that. You kept getting distracted."

"Yes." I nodded. "You are distracting. In a good way."

She huffed. "It's obvious to me now that perhaps you need to be reminded of your Jedi training. Maybe once you focus on that, you can refocus on the mission."

"Ah, yes, focusing in the form of you hitting me with a stick. Could turn anyone on, really—"

"I keep telling you yet you refuse to listen." My smile dipped at the sound of her cold tone. Pain flooded her eyes. "No matter what we feel, no matter what we...desire, it cannot work. The mission will always come first. Before...us." Her chest rose and fell—I sensed that sadness over the bond again. "So, please. For once please listen to me."

She turned and made for the halls. I followed far behind, my chest heavy as her words sank into my brain. It was the heavy sensation of guilt.

It was unsurprising, really, that an Echani owned hotel had training rooms.

We had to use our datapads to open the door—verifying that we had a vacation package. The room itself was spacious, probably half the size of the Ebon Hawk, and the red light of the cameras watched us from the corners.

Before we got into our practice fight, Bastila forced me to sit in the middle of the room and meditate for an hour straight. I listened to her and sank into the darkness of my mind. In the meantime, Bastila mediated behind me. Even though we were supposed to suppress our thoughts and emotions, there were breaks here and there within the darkness.

Stress. Pain. Grief. Despair. Guilt.

Passion. Warmth. Heat. Desire.

That last sensation was like the sting of kolto on a wound. We both flinched out of meditation. Both of us silently agreed to move on.

Bastila made a stance in front of me with a long wooden staff—holding it in the center to match the balance of her double-bladed lightsaber. The reflections that made up the walls displayed infinite copies of the beautiful tight-faced Jedi. I made a stance of my own, shoulders relaxed, feet locked in place. We'd thrown both of our robes to the side so that we could easily move about the space.

We practiced both defensive and offensive forms in order to be efficient—taking turns as the attacker and the defender. The defender had to disarm and the attacker had to get in a hit. Our practice blades snapped in the air, breaking the eerie silence. Parry. Duck. Jump. Dash. Flick. There wasn't really any teaching going on. After a few minutes of defending, I slipped up and she hit my shoulder. There was no comment on what I should have done instead. grimacing, I twirled the practice staff and sent rapid swipes at her. When she aimed to twist the staff out from my grip, I let her. The weapon clattered to the floor. Still nothing. No lesson. No remarks. If this was supposed to help refocus me onto my Jedi training then...it was failing. Majorly.

Was this supposed to help me? Or her?

As I slipped into a defense, that question was answered. She was using my "training" to distract herself. To literally punch away her feelings. As she attacked me, her swoops and hits snapped hard. It was unlike the gentle, calm movements she made when she was helping to train me to become a Jedi. And the deep look in her eyes exuded concentration, yet...intent.

Intent aggression.

We locked our staves together. I shot her a concerned look.

Bastila? Her hands flinched as I entered her mind. I thought you were supposed to be teaching me here?

She pushed me away, gray eyes cold.

A dark Jedi won't hold back. Her staff slammed into mine with a crack. I am teaching you.

Her staff cracked into my weapon over and over. These passionate hits went on for a long time—so long, that I became distracted. Distracted by this...uncharacteristic fight. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but the staff hit me on the chest. Hard. I hissed in pain, bending over, cursing as I felt a rib throb. I shot Bastila a glare.

"What is this teaching me, exactly? How much getting hit kriffing hurts?"

Bastila twirled said staff, face emotionless. "Getting hit by a lightsaber would hurt more."

"Yes, but that's not a lightsaber, is it?" I threw my staff to the floor. "Bastila...I am not in the mood to be your punching bag right now. I'm sorry for not listening to you, but can we just...talk about it?"

Her tight face somehow grew tighter. I only had a split second to use the Force and bring the staff back into my hand to block her overarching attack.

And our fight went on. And on. Sweat beaded down my chest and face. The back and forth attack and defense had been completely forgotten. It was replaced with Bastila...hitting me. Over and over. I blocked one of her incoming blows—an hour could have gone by and we wouldn't have noticed. Sweat dripped down her pale skin, her dark hair strands stuck to her forehead, intense, sad gray eyes, red lips…

A rush of pain shot in my nose, my forehead. I dropped the staff with a clatter and I stumbled. Dazed, my confused mind couldn't work together with my body. I reached for her shoulders to try and hold myself up except that only made me unintentionally tackle her, dragging her down to the floor with me with a yelp.

This was...minorly calculated. She wasn't going to stop if I didn't take a hit. Though I didn't realize I'd almost get a damn concussion.

Her forehead slammed into mine. My vision flashed white. Force...why—why was it always my head? After the pain subsided...vision cleared...I pushed myself up by the elbows and noticed that she hadn't pushed me off. Her bright gray eyes had darkened, wavered as they looked up at me. The beating of my heart drummed faster than our attacks, faster than the rush of the Force. Her warm breath tickled my cheek. She lifted her head—

Soft lips pressed against mine. I jolted yet relaxed once I realized what was happening. Closing my eyes, I weaved a hand through her hair, loosening it, and moved my lips with hers, kissing her back. She responded by pressing my head closer. Gradually, I sank to my side, growing weak due to both the pounding in my head and the tingling sensation running across my body. Her hair, now free, tickled my face. She hooked her legs around my chest, getting on top, pushing me down. This lasted while I recovered from the pain in my head. When the throbbing stilled, I took over again, rolling her onto the floor. Over and over we traded places. Attacker. Defender.

The room. The cold. The dark. The stress. The grief. The pain. All of it went away. From us both. She grabbed up at my sweat-soaked tunic. I tasted the salt on her jaw—

"Agh!"

A knee slammed hard into my groin. Tears welled in my eyes. My vision went red. The pain returned. Dazed, I rolled off. A hand pushed down—a warm body pressed onto me again to stop me from moving. I flailed in pain.

"What the kriffing hell was that for?!"

It was throbbing.

"Cameras, idiot."

My pulse raced. For only a second, the pain dispersed and I smirked, raising a brow.

"So?"

"So!?"

Someone cleared their throat. Someone that wasn't Bastila. Or I. The hand finally disappeared along with the heavy warmth that had been pinning me down. I groaned. Still too dizzy to stand, I sat up, rubbing my probably concussed head.

Carth stared at us from the door, datapad raised, looking...uncomfortable.

Ah. Um. He didn't...see that, did he?

I glanced over at Bastila and she'd grown redder than a Sith's lightsaber. She crossed her arms and tried to plaster her Jedi-face on again...but she was fooling no one. I, on the other hand, tried to play it as cool as I could manage.

"Oh, uh, hi, Carth…" I let out a laugh. Kriff. Don't laugh, idiot. "You, um, didn't knock."

"No. I didn't," he muttered, face unemotive. "That Master Jedi is looking for you. Tried your rooms…but you weren't there. Jolee told me you two were out 'investigating.' He didn't clarify. Of course. When I heard you got back, Canderous mentioned he saw you two ignore him as you made for the training rooms..."

"Ah." I laughed again. Stop laughing. I stopped. "Well, we're just...you know. Practicing."

His mouth twitched. "Practicing?"

"Yes, practicing. Lightsaber forms."

Carth's shoulders shook and he bit his lip. Very obviously trying to hold back from laughing. This got a reaction from Bastila.

"It isn't what you think!" she shouted.

"What isn't?" Carth asked.

"You—the—I—" She collected herself again. "We were training."

"Yes, I can see that." He nodded. "That is why you're in a practice room, right?"

Bastila hissed. "Yes!"

"Okay? What's the big deal then?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It's important to practice."

The poor Jedi let out a large huff. "No, not tha—this...this was nothing!"

"What?" Carth asked, blinking. "So, it wasn't practice?"

"No—it—that was a mistake! It didn't mean anything!"

I winced and rubbed the back of my neck. The word mistake echoed in my mind. Carth still hadn't budged.

"What was a mistake?"

"The—I—it's—" Bastila grimaced, her body sinking. "I hate you. Both of you."

Carth sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose—somehow aging years before my eyes.

"Got it. Just…can you both hurry it up? That Koth guy is a pain in the ass. I really don't want to suffer through his passive-aggressive sniping because you two are practicing."

Bastila didn't say anything more. She marched past the pilot with a frustrated huff—pushing his shoulder aside so that she could leave. Carth waited a second before he crossed his arms and smirked down at me.

"Looks like you two figured things out."

I shot a withering look up at him. Because what he said couldn't have been further from the truth.

Here's a chapter a little early :)! Also, YAY KOTOR is being remade :D! I really hope the character interactions are expanded on for the remake (and that the main storyline stays mostly intact lol).

As you've probably noticed, Griff is back in the mix. I always intended to bring him back into the story, and I figured the best spot would be here to muck up a trial with his sleazy ways. It could look like a bit of a coincidence...but the Force finds a way, man ;)

As a side note, I listened to the Ace Attorney soundtrack while writing this to get in the investigator/court trial mood. I'll keep the references to a minimum, but...I won't make any promises (no updated autopsies, I swear).

Thank you for reading! BTW, I love any and all reviews that have been sent or might be sent my way ;)!