It was still early when Bastila and I left the Ebon Hawk, heading for the cantina in Anchorhead. A strong wind was blowing generously through the streets that morning, making it particularly uncomfortable to move. We hardly shared a word. Since we had been up the night before, we seemed to struggle to get the machinery going, and the sandy wind provided no atmosphere for discussion. Besides, Bastila was far too preoccupied with this next meeting to enjoy a conversation with a friend. And as for me, I was trying to protect my mouth and nose from the sand in a thick scarf I had put on that morning.

I could feel Bastila's anguish again, which was gradually building up as our arduous walk drew us closer to the cantina. I noticed that the Jedi had a rather stiff stride, holding tightly the leather bag slung over her shoulder containing Callum Shan's datapad. As we drove along, I couldn't help but glance discreetly at her. I had somehow met her father the day before, which had fuelled this deep curiosity I had about her, and made me want to know more. My wish was about to come true, because I was about to meet Helena Shan, her mother.

When Bastila learned that her mother was looking for her, she decided to go to meet her alone, despite my offer to join her in this delicate moment. She came back in a particularly chaotic emotional state, but kept the whole thing to herself for the next few days. Then, in our quest for the star map, in the middle of the hostile desert, it was on board a miners' truck that had taken us in for the night that Bastila had finally verbalised this event, and also some of her suffering. Before that, I already had a vague idea of who Helena Shan had been. Bastila had not elaborated on the subject, but enough for me to have the beginnings of a portrait in mind: she was a venal, cruel and authoritarian woman, who seemed to have never loved her own daughter. Later, I could understand that the woman had crossed some boundaries with her child. Boundaries that no parent should cross. This woman was a monster. And, in my opinion, she deserved all the hatred that her daughter harboured towards her. This dormant hatred that Bastila kept deep inside her, partially calmed by the fusional relationship she shared with her father. Then, when she was about five years old, a group of Jedi had landed on Talravin, where the Shan family lived, or rather survived. With Helena's apparently very warm approval, they took Bastila, separated her from her father, leaving him alone with this toxic woman, and took the little girl to Dantooine for training. A method I found especially inhumane for an institution that preached kindness in every way. Nevertheless, without ever having shared it with Bastila, I thought it was certainly the best possibility for her: a safe and potentially glorious future, away from a woman who treated her daughter like a common pest, and away from a situation that had nothing to offer her, despite her father's unconditional love.

We finally reached the cantina. The wind, which was still blowing, could not however blow into the alleyway where the recreation area was located, finally giving us the opportunity to talk more comfortably before entering. The young woman had paused at the entrance to the building, suddenly petrified with overwhelming anxiety. She had never taken her hand off the precious bag, and seemed to be holding it even tighter than on our walk. I took my friend's shoulder gently, and moved her a few paces from the entrance; so as not to obstruct the passage, and to allow the young woman to say a few words, if necessary, in a more quiet atmosphere. At first I simply observed the Jedi patiently. The woman, who until then had been staring into space, finally looked me straight in the eye with very slight nods of the head.

"This is the part where you have to come in, right?" She asked without really expecting an answer.

"That's up to you." I replied.

Then I saw Bastila remove the shoulder strap from the small bag and hold it between her two hands, at the level of her abdomen. With her eyes again in the void, she palpated the worn leather for a few seconds, without really realising it, and then finally let out a resolute sigh.

"Well. I've got to stop thinking, it's just postponing the deadline." She announced determinedly.

"Let's go then. " I added with a supportive smile, to which Bastila replied very furtively before covering a face betraying her nervousness.

The young woman led the way, and as I followed closely behind, a protective hand resting on the Jedi's scapula, she entered the cantina.

The place was particularly dark, and somewhat insalubrious. I couldn't hold back a pout of disgust at the very irritating smell of humidity, quite unexpected on such an arid planet. The cantina was fairly deserted at this time of day, and despite the darkness, I could admire the quality of the upkeep of the place. The nooks and crannies were black with grime, the drains in the ceiling were dripping everywhere, even over the bar. The only place that seemed to be more carefully maintained was the small stage where, in the evening, bands played and women danced in very light clothing. This cantina was really nothing like the ones in Taris, including the lower city. I wondered how people could enjoy themselves in such a slum.

As I silently promised myself that I would disinfect every inch of my clothes when I got out of here, I felt Bastila take a few steps away, breaking the physical contact that remained between us. I left my thoughts and immediately watched my friend. I could see her walking slowly into the cantina, looking at every table from a distance, looking for Helena. A few seconds later, I saw the Jedi stop, her gaze directed to a particular corner of the place. I continued to watch her: she was static, certainly still in a very legitimate hesitation. Then I saw her turn her eyes quickly towards me, her eyebrows furrowed. Apparently she did not notice that I was not following her. With a nod, she invited me to come to her, which I did in a second.

"I found her." She said casually, facing me.

I allowed myself to look up discreetly and glanced over at Bastila, towards the corner she had been watching before I joined her. I could see, laboriously, a woman in her early sixties, seated at one of the many tables sticky with grime and alcohol residue. From where I was standing I could tell that the woman was of a particularly slim, if not skinny, build, and I thought she was a little shorter than her daughter. She seemed to have brown hair, turning partly grey, tied up tightly in a single bun at the back of her head. Her face, I could only make out a few features; it looked thin, almost angular, which gave the woman a particularly cold look. Some would say that the daughter was like her mother in this respect, but it was not the same coldness. Bastila wore this coldness like a garment, which she knew how to remove when she wanted to, it was not something that was anchored in her. In Helena's case, it looked like a coldness that had finally taken root and become an inherent part of her person, almost seeming to play on her physical appearance. But this was certainly an assumption altered by the opinion I had already formed of her, even though I had never spoken to her before. And I remembered that the woman was evidently ill, which could possibly explain her dry appearance and repulsive pallor.

I was brought out of my observation by the warmth of Bastila's hand, which had been gently placed on my forearm. The warmth of her hand contrasted with Helena's own coldness. I looked at the Jedi who was smiling at me in a very peculiar way. I raised my eyebrows, and said in a decently playful tone, hoping to dispel some of the woman's nervousness:

"Very charming."

Bastila could not hold back a sincere chuckle, but nevertheless with a nervous hint. She turned her attention back to the older woman, and announced before approaching her:

"Wait a minute, the performance hasn't started yet."

I gave a friendly smile, then regained my seriousness and followed my companion towards the table where Helena Shan was seated. We stopped one last time, a few tiny steps away from the woman, who was now staring at us sternly. Out of respect, I had decided to keep a certain distance, but I did not want to let Bastila think that I was abandoning her, alone with her mother. So I chose to stand barely a metre behind the Jedi.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, and I was impatient for either of them to finally speak. However, when the first words were spoken, I regretted the situation we had just left. For myself, but also for Bastila.

"Are you finally done watching me like a freak?" The older woman asked, who seemed to almost enjoy spitting her venom at her daughter. "And this time you need a strong man to face your sick old mother? Can't you face me alone? Is that really all you have left, Bastila?"

I raised my eyebrows, completely stunned by Helena Shan's first shot at her own child. Her tone reflected her deep animosity towards the young woman. It was not mere hostility, I was sure I sensed resentment from the elder woman. I turned my gaze to my friend, who now seemed to be nervously fidgeting with the leather of the bag. At that moment I wondered whether I should not intervene, or at least reach Bastila. But I changed my mind, thinking reasonably that such an act would fuel Helena's aggressiveness towards the Jedi.

"I just need a friend, mother." Bastila finally replied, in a voice that was resolute, but unable to completely mask the emotional torrent that was stirring her. "Just need someone who cares about me at least a little, and someone I care about enough to come and support me in a difficult time."

Here it came again.

Again that pleasant pain, which I had been experiencing regularly since we left for the star map quest. But this one was more sustained, more powerful, and particularly pleasing. I swallowed back some saliva, let out a quiet sigh, and shook myself slightly so as to recover a posture appropriate to the moment at hand. Then I clenched my jaws, as if to contain the joy I felt guilty about experiencing during this delicate event.

Helena Shan stared at me for a short while. She looked at me with distaste. I was sure I sensed a hint of jealousy in her. Jealousy, perhaps, that this girl she so loved to bully was able to form viable social relationships. The jealousy of a cruel and bitter woman.

"Did you get what I asked for?" Helena barked, and then looked away from me and back at her daughter.

Bastila then approached the table even closer and, after holding the bag close to her, placed it on the tabletop.

"Here." She said bitterly. She added, her hands flat on the table, her eyes locked in her mother's: "At least try to take good care of this data. Don't betray my father's memory. But I already know it's a waste of time. With that, it's time to part. You' ve had your pleasure of the day by insulting me, I lose my father again to the one person responsible for his death. Now I am leaving and I don't want to hear from you ever again. Do not bother to contact me ever again."

I saw Bastila recover her initial posture, under the shocked gaze of her mother, then she grabbed my arm and prepared to leave the cantina. I caught her wrist and prevented her from continuing. The woman turned back to me, and with her eyes locked on mine, her jaw trembling, she ordered me almost sternly:

"We're leaving, Corem."

I moved closer to her, so that our words could not be heard by Helena. I moved my face closer to the Jedi's, and asked her in a whisper:

"Like that?"

Bastila had turned her eyes away from mine, and seemed to be fixing my shoulder. She let out a tear, which she quickly wiped away. As she prepared to formulate a response to me, she was overtaken by Helena, who stood up and angrily voiced:

"You are still here?!" Bastila and I suddenly turned our attention to the older woman.

Bastila seemed increasingly tormented. Her mother's provocations were shaking her more than she had let on; and the more her mother attacked her, the closer Bastila came to breaking point. Sensing my friend's growing distress, I let go of her wrist and reached for her hand. This was a daring, even risky manoeuvre, for it was a gesture of an intimate nature, very unprecedented for someone like Bastila. I expected her to take offence, but on the other hand she had other things to worry about at that moment. Suddenly I felt slightly ashamed that I had taken advantage of such a moment to initiate this gesture, which was certainly there to support the woman, but I could not deny that I was also doing it a little for myself. Embarrassed, I decided to let go of the Jedi's hand and I resumed the thread of this future heated argument between the two women.

Helena walked closer to her daughter, leaving only a few steps between them. She looked at her furiously, but it also seemed that tears were welling up in the corners of the woman's eyes.

"Go away!" She kept barking, waving her hand dismissively. "It's so easy to blame me for everything, to make me the great villain of this story! But you don't know, Bastila. You don't know why things happened the way they did! It was easy for you. You had a father who loved you with all his heart, and a mother who was not able to offer you the same affection. You were never able to see the nuances!"

"Nuances?" Bastila replied sharply, unable to hold back her tears. " Why, did you really expect a little girl to perceive nuances? I was five years old when you separated me from my father, and not without satisfaction. You never tolerated my existence. It was suddenly not so easy to send him off to get some wealth for all your superficial desires. That's what my little girl eyes saw, and that's what my little girl heart felt. I was no more than five years old!"

Bastila paused for a moment, staring at her mother, her breath coming in short gasps. Then she resumed her story:

"So yes, I'm sorry I was so careless and didn't see the 'nuances'! However, I remember perfectly well the treatment you administered to me. I remember in great detail the punishments you gave me. The humiliation I felt, the hunger and thirst that took hold of me when you felt I had not earned the right to satisfy the most basic needs! I will never forget all that! You're just trying to rehabilitate yourself by blaming my legitimate inability as a little girl to see 'nuances'."

The Jedi looked at her mother's frail figure before ending on a cruelly ironic note:

"Who knows, perhaps I've spent too much time with my nose stuck against a wall or scrubbing every inch of the floor to develop such skills. My apologies."

A tiny part of me smiled at this fine display of cleverness, but on the other hand, I felt particularly uncomfortable with her words, which recalled the abuse Bastila had experienced as a child.

"You're making fun of me, on top of it all!" Helena continued, still closer to her daughter. Both were locked in each other's eyes, Bastila was glaring at her defiantly, even aggressively. "Do you want me to tell you the truth, Bastila? Do you want me to tell you about these nuances that I wish you could have caught?"

Bastila only looked at her mother with a steady gaze, but she partially left this state of total defiance and suddenly seemed more questioning. Helena spoke again, less angry, but still quite assertive:

"Of course I couldn't stand your existence, Bastila!" She began without any hesitation.

This announcement, although expected, seemed to deeply shock the Jedi. Equally shaken by these words, I discreetly took a step behind Bastila, positioning myself close enough to her so that she could sense my comforting presence.

"Come on, Bastila! " Helena went on. "I'm the only one who's always been realistic!" The woman let a few seconds pass. She was still staring at her daughter, but the hardness of her gaze gave way to an unexpected sadness, even remorse. Her breathing seemed to become more intense, and it indicated that the woman was in pain. Helena finally resumed her speech, in a calmer tone.

"When I found out I was pregnant, it was like a bolt of lightning falling on my head. I didn't want a child. We shouldn't have had a child. I spoke to your father about it and he didn't agree with me at all. I did everything I could to make him listen to me, but nothing helped. In the end, he was the one who made me doubt, and I carried the pregnancy to term. But once you were born, it was impossible for me to take care of you properly.

"Why?" Bastila asked, her voice shaking, her eyes wet with tears.

"Why?" Helena repeated with emotion. "Because we couldn't give you a decent life. We kept going in search of treasures and other valuables, but we never managed to live properly. You know all this, you lived it. I begged your father to stop this occupation which was not worthy of you, or even of me. I was angry with him for thinking only of his passion, and for not being able to see that the life he was going to give you was a miserable one. He loved you deeply, Bastila, but he didn't realise that his decisions were wrong. And I... I was awful, I know. I lashed out at you when in truth the problem wasn't you. Not directly. I couldn't stand the image of us that your existence was reflecting. Every time I looked at you, all I could see was the weight of the stupid decisions your father and I had made. So I tried not to wallow in parental love, as your father did. And I treated you like an abomination. It was my way of punishing myself for the poor life you were to live, all because your father and I were selfish and reckless. I forbade myself to love you. It wasn't fair to you, I agree. You didn't choose any of this, yet you were the one who suffered my wrath. When the Jedi arrived, and suggested we leave you in the care of the Order, of course I jumped at the chance, and I was very pleased. And this time I stood my ground, I gave your father no choice about keeping you with him. You had to leave, you had to get away from this environment that was not going to offer you anything viable. And to get away from my fury."

Helena paused to observe her daughter. Her eyes had softened completely. The only thing that remained was the fatigue caused by the emotion of the painful reunion; I felt as if I was looking at a completely different woman. Bastila looked calmer, but her gaze still betrayed a form of incredulity, even distrust.

"Forgive me, Bastila. You never deserved such treatment. Never. You were a sweet little girl. No one has to go through what I did to you. As much as I resented your father for being so selfish, I'm glad he was able to offset my attitude towards you even a little bit."

I felt that the situation was taking a turn for the better, so I breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief, and turned my gaze away, to give the two women some measure of privacy. Bastila remained in expectant silence, and continued to stare at her mother.

"Before I leave this world, I wish we could quieten our relationship, Bastila. I'm not asking you to suddenly love me, but at least to see me in a happier light."

The Jedi's eyes widened. She looked as if she didn't know how to respond. Then she turned to me and gave me a troubled glance. I answered her with a warm smile and a caring expression. The woman then turned her attention back to her mother, who appeared particularly nervous, apprehensive about her daughter's reply. Seeing that she couldn't quite manage to take over, Helena took a few steps towards the table where she had been sitting earlier, grabbed the small leather bag, and handed it to her daughter. The latter took a quick look at the object, then refocused her gaze on her mother.

"I want you to have it, Bastila. He is your father. He would have wanted you to keep a part of him close to you."

Bastila stared at her mother for a few more seconds, then reached for the bag, which she finally grabbed. When Helena let go of her grip, she added warmly:

"And I too like the idea of Callum being near you. He'll be able to pursue his journey with his Jedi. He was so proud of you. All the hunters and explorers who crossed his path had to endure his endless tales about his famous daughter."

Bastila let out a tired, muffled laugh. She looked down at the leather bag, and finally replied painfully:

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me for anything. I only deserve your resentment, my daughter. Even if my dearest wish now is that you forgive me."

Bastila raised her eyes to her mother, then turned her head back to me. I had kept my attitude. I didn't want to influence her decisions, but part of me couldn't help but feel that this was her chance to finally move on, and on a much more serene note than she could have imagined. The situation was not as closed as it had been: Bastila had the power to give this story a prosperous ending, or just the opposite. Returning to Helena, Bastila finally announced:

"I forgive you."

Helena then released all the tears she was holding back, and burst into a heartbreaking sob in front of a Bastila who looked relieved, but still somewhat shocked. The woman then fearfully approached her daughter, raised a hand as if to touch her, but never dared to do so. Bastila appeared to be suspicious of this initiative at first, but eventually welcomed it shyly. Grasping her mother's hand, the Jedi began a hug that was at first perfectly rigid, but then she calmed down and hugged Helena with a degree of confidence. When they parted, the tearful woman took the opportunity to gently cup her daughter's face in her hands and studied her with emotion. Bastila allowed it.

"Those eyes... Your father's." She spoke, almost entranced by her daughter's gaze. "It's been so long. You are beautiful, Bastila." Helena added.

Keeping myself at a respectable distance, I briefly watched the moving scene and then decided to leave the cantina, giving Helena and Bastila the opportunity to enjoy the moment alone.

As I walked back outside, and was about to start the journey to the ship, I felt my arm being grabbed, preventing me from continuing my movement. I turned around and was surprised to see Bastila wearing a very emotional expression. As I had done before we entered the cantina, I put a hand on her shoulder and led us a few steps away from the passageway we were crowding, but also to protect us from the wind and sand that was beginning to rush into the tiny alley. Once we were well under cover, I addressed the young woman with a touch of concern:

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes." She said uncertainly. I was about to continue, but Bastila immediately resumed:

"I wanted to thank you before you leave, Corem. Thank you for everything you've done."

I put a hand on the Jedi's arm, and replied:

"I didn't do anything, Bastila."

"Yes, you did." she retorted. "You stood by me in that moment, and you prevented me from messing up that meeting. I will never love my mother, that's for sure. But I think I've really forgiven her. If it wasn't for you, I would have just blown her off today and come back from that meeting in that same anger." She finished with a nervous laugh.

"Given what you went through as a child, it would have been fair enough." I countered, trying to calm what I felt was guilt in her. "You just needed support to get you there. You were the one who led this meeting."

The young woman gave no answer. She stared at me with a look that I found myself unable to define. Perhaps she was thinking about the words I had just spoken to her? As I tried to understand her expression, I was brought out of my questioning by a gesture that shook me to my core. In barely a second, Bastila's hands and forearms found a place at the root of my neck, and I felt the Jedi's chin rest gently on my right shoulder. There I stood, straight as a line, breathless, with Bastila nestled against me.

Damn it.

I didn't know what to do. I was totally caught off guard. Yet I had to respond to this gesture before she pulled away. So I decided to gently embrace the Jedi, placing my hands in the middle of her back and resting my head against hers. Of course it was only a friendly and grateful hug on her part. She probably was not in the same approach to our relationship as I was. Nevertheless, I could not silence the little voice in my head that kept hammering at me that maybe Bastila also harboured feelings for me. This voice was nothing but the voice of the idiot inside me who was trying to lure me into his world of exquisite illusions. Bastila and I stayed like that for barely fifteen seconds. Then the young woman began to return to her original position.

So soon.

Why did I have to torture my mind with all sorts of meaningless questions, rather than just enjoying the moment? I loosened my grip and let the Jedi free herself from our contact. She stared at me warmly for a few seconds, her hands now moving to my wrists:

"When we do have time, I'd like us to talk about this again, if you don't mind."

"Whenever you like. Gladly." I replied, without managing to hold back a touch of impatience in my voice.

We looked into each other's eyes again, for a few short but happy seconds. I smiled warmly again, and allowed myself another unprecedented gesture by placing a hand on Bastila's face, who looked somewhat surprised, but did not push me away. However, I was careful not to make this contact last, so that it would be interpreted as a friendly gesture and nothing more. I then withdrew my hand, and the young woman was about to turn back towards the cantina.

"See you very soon." She said to me before disappearing into the damp darkness of the place.

Once the front door was closed, I could not hold back a long, deep breath. I leaned almost abruptly against the wall behind me and let another painful breath leave me. I scanned the alley, lost in my emotional turmoil. Then, as I replayed the scene I'd just experienced, I felt that sharp, intense, yet diffused spike in my chest again. It reached a level I had never experienced before. It was almost indescribable. A painful happiness. I was very clear about the nature of my feelings for Bastila. But, at that moment, I realised something I perhaps didn't fully understand.

I fell in love with the Jedi.

"Shit." I uttered, releasing another breath. Then I decided to go back to the comforting atmosphere of the Ebon Hawk.

I had spent all morning and most of the afternoon waiting for Bastila to return. I'd almost literally walked in circles around the ship, piquing Mission's curiosity. When the Jedi appeared again, she told me briefly about the day with her mother; they'd obviously had a lot of interaction. And Bastila had planned to see Helena again, once the mission was over. She had given her all her savings so that she could find a decent doctor on Coruscant. I wish she had told me more, but she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. So I let her go and rest. I thought I would do the same, as I also needed some sleep, but it was mostly a convenient way to kill time and get back to Bastila more quickly.


Done with Tatooine. The next chapters will take place in the Ebon Hawk (the kiss scene I already published as a oneshot ; sorry, it won't be modified), then I'll post Manaan chapters.