On Manaan, we were introduced to a local representative of the Republic, a man named Roland Wann. He was in charge of the regulation and administration of most of the activities in which the Republic was involved. In Atho, the biggest sector was the deep-sea extraction of kolto, a substance that was particularly effective in the field of disinfecting and healing wounds, and was used to manufacture all kinds of medical solutions. The Selkath Court of Justice had authorised the Republic to conduct part of the business on Manaan, as long as they would not monopolise it. In reality, the Selkath saw this as a convenient alliance to protect the deep sea mines from potential criminal organisations and from the Sith. The Republic was also in a position to provide the Selkath with researchers, to boost their numbers and speed up scientific efforts in the medical field, as well as materials for the development of underwater bases and extractors. The short-term goal was the complete synthesis of the substance, which had already been partially achieved, but it happened that this artificial kolto contained flaws that undermined its curative qualities. This product was licensed for unrestricted sale to the general public, who used it to treat minor injuries and wounds. Manaan's natural kolto, on the other hand, was far more potent and was strictly regulated and distributed to the most important medical centres and to the Republican armed forces. Of course, this particularity had made natural kolto a highly prized and wanted product, to the point of becoming a smuggled substance, stolen primarily by the miners themselves, and sometimes by credit-hungry scientists.

Roland Wann, who had been secretly informed of our arrival by Admiral Forn Dodonna, had let us into the submersible facility that carried the researchers to the Hrakert science station, which was located a few kilometres from the largest extractor in the area. The man had no idea what our objective was, but the Admiral had suggested that the Republic's support could only be beneficial to us. That made sense, but the reality was still quite unfavourable: Bastila and I still shared no vision of where the star map was. Of course, we were convinced that this couldn't be found on the surface, but the project of searching for such a small structure in an ocean that covered an entire planet seemed titanic. In any case, we had to go underwater, but what would we do when we got to one of the stations? We were very unlikely to come across the map by chance, just by looking out of a porthole. We were not allowed to reach Hrakert station that day anyway. A research study, which had been planned months in advance, was in progress, and the Selkath authorities had forbidden all traffic in an area we would have had to cross to get there. We needed to wait for the scientific team leading the experiment to contact the authorities and inform them that the operation was over. This was another potentially serious waste of time for us. In an excess of zeal towards the Admiral, Wann had very kindly reserved a hotel room for each of us. The idea had been particularly welcomed by Mission, Canderous, Jolee and also Carth, who did not mind a thick mattress and a decent private bathroom. On Bastila's side, as on Juhani's, this privilege felt uncomfortable. Their training and dedication to Jedi discipline had accustomed them to a lifetime of basic convenience. Besides, Bastila was concerned that our little group might attract attention in such circumstances, so she specifically asked everyone to avoid returning to the Ebon Hawk and pretending to be tourists in the eyes of the local population. This prompted some to plan on taking full advantage of some of Atho's facilities.

For my part, I had decided to wander around the city, looking for information that might be useful in our quest. In the room I had been granted, I put down some things that were not going to be used on my next little excursion. In the shower room, I grabbed a small comb with which I brushed back my black hair and then ran my fingers through my beard, which had grown back nicely since Tatooine. It was not my intention to have fun in the city, but I had to be careful not to attract too much attention by looking careless. Atho was a posh tourist spot. It was not necessary to be immaculately dressed, but it was important to look decent. I approached the bed on which I had placed my pilot's jacket, which I had kept from Taris. I grabbed it and pulled it over a thin, dark blue knitted jumper. I didn't quite know why, but I liked the jacket deeply. It was a combination of several pieces of thick, well-crafted leather, designed to withstand some shocks, cuts and burns. The leather had probably been dyed, it was so deep black that the tips of the hair that reached down to the back of my neck seemed to be drowning in it.

As I let the jacket fall heavily on my shoulders, I enjoyed for a second the smell of the leather that was coming off and flattering my nostrils. I didn't know why I liked to binge on it every time I put on this garment. It brought me back to Taris. To that swoop race. To Bastila, whom I could picture wearing that jacket - too large for her - as she glared at me.

I chuckled.

Maybe what I liked about that leather rag was the possibility of reconnecting with the Jedi. Perhaps through this "olfactory contemplation" I was seeking even a remnant of the young woman's refreshing scent; since I had only that of her left for myself, without being lectured by anyone. A sigh escaped my nostrils. I paused briefly, watching the folds in the sheets of my bed, which roughly outlined the shape of my jacket, like an imprint it had left. I recovered my senses and moved away from the bed to the door of my room. Before leaving, I slipped each of my feet into my dark boots, which gently hugged my shins and reached the top of my knees. Finally, I grabbed my lightsaber and attached it to a loop I had made inside the jacket. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself. However, I couldn't risk wandering around a city full of Sith without being armed.

I left the room.

As soon as I stepped into the reception hall, I was approached by Canderous, whom I thought might already be drunk in a district cantina. The man came and stood nonchalantly to my left, and rested his comradely heavy arm on my shoulders. He brought his face close to mine and spouted a few words at full speed, in a cheerful but apparently non-drunken voice. Not yet, at least:

"There you are my friend! I was looking for someone to join me for a nightcap! Onasi is clearly not interested in sharing a drinking moment with a Mandalorian. So I asked our teenage girl to join me, but the Wookie didn't look too happy with the idea. Old Jolee vanished into nowhere. As for the ladies, I abstained from offering. Nuns in a cantina, no way!"

In a very irregular step, I noticed that the man was slowly but surely leading me out of the hotel, and certainly to a nearby cantina. Cautiously, I loosened myself from the Mandalorian's grip, as he gave me a questioning look.

"Sorry Canderous." I began. "I had other plans for tonight."

The man gave me such a disappointed look that I could hardly help but feel sorry for him. However, this attitude, which I thought was overplayed, faded from his face and was replaced by another mischievous smile.

"I'm interested!" He replied in an amused tone. "If there's alcohol and women, you must take me with you!"

I could not hold back a short laugh. This man was incorrigible.

"Nothing of the sort, my friend." I confessed with a smirk. "I won't be your evening companion, I'm afraid. I have to gather information for the rest of our... stay."

I then planned to leave the hotel and go about my original business. I patted the Mandalorian on the shoulder and said "don't get too drunk" before walking through the front door to the street. Once outside, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was finally free to do the things I had intended to do in the first place. Although the idea of having a drink with a friend sounded much more appealing, I had to keep my eye on our quest for the star maps. I stopped for a moment on the front steps of our hotel and struggled to slip my hands into a pair of gloves to fight off the damp cold that was apparently prevailing that night.

"Good evening."

I shuddered. The voice of a woman had just caught me by surprise. A voice I knew perfectly well. I turned my head in her direction and saw Bastila leaning against the wall of the hotel, hands behind her back, a few metres from the entrance. I looked at the young woman for a very short time before deciding to go to her. I broke eye contact with her, pulled on the uncomfortable fabric of my gloves one last time, and walked down the few steps of the stoop to join her.

"You frightened me." I just said, laughing nervously, my eyes carefully avoiding hers.

"Sorry." She replied.

"No, it's all right."

A few seconds of silence passed. I resolved at last to catch her eyes, which I promised myself I would not avoid again. The Jedi looked at me with a degree of emotion, perhaps concern.

"What are you doing out here alone in the cold?" I finally asked.

"Nothing." The young woman answered plainly, her eyes firmly locked in mine.

I didn't know what to make of that. Her dark voice and taciturn words contrasted with that piercing, almost intrusive look. Why calling me out if it was to be so confusing afterwards?

"Okay. Well, I'm not bothering you any longer." I continued, as I took my eyes off the woman, initiating the movement to leave. "See you, Bastila."

"Wait." The young woman retorted briskly.

I turned to her again and held her gaze expectantly. Bastila suddenly looked nervous. I stood still and watched her scan the environment like she was fleeing my eyes, while biting her lower lip. Then I saw her take a long breath, which she eased out more gently than I would have expected. She finally spoke:

"I didn't want to talk about this again..." She said uncomfortably. "But, you know, all that stuff we said to each other in the cockpit, I can't get it out of my head."

I was suddenly intensely focused on what the woman was trying to tell me, and I looked into her eyes almost indecently. The words we had spoken earlier on the ship were hurting me awfully, and seeing her come back to the issue gave me hope that I might feel better about the situation. I glanced around to make sure we were not being overheard. In the distance, about a hundred metres from us, I saw Canderous, heading for the local cantina. I raised my eyebrows in astonishment: I hadn't even realised that the Mandalorian had left the hotel. I thought the man must have not noticed that Bastila and I were there. Otherwise, he would certainly have interrupted our conversation before going off to get drunk. In a fraction of a second I regained Bastila's gaze and attention, as she appeared to be struggling to carry on with her speech.

"Neither do I." I said, with uncontrolled coldness.

The woman gave me a tormented look and, biting her lip again, she took another breath, which I could perceive by a slight movement of her nostrils. I was angry with myself, for I understood perfectly well that the tone I had just used had made her more uncomfortable. Added to this was the frustration with myself because of the terrible guilt I was feeling for unwittingly pushing her into the kiss. So, before she could speak again, echoing what I had said to her earlier on the Ebon Hawk, I added to my tactless words:

"Again, I am very sorry for what I did. I didn't realise."

I spoke the sentence with my eyes in hers, as if to force myself to fully assume this unfortunate act. I was surprised to see Bastila's face frown with confusion, just as it had in the cockpit. She watched me for a few seconds and then replied:

"Realise what? I don't understand."

I stared at the woman in disbelief. How could she not understand?

"Well..." I tried to explain. "That you didn't wish at any time that..." I paused for a moment, swallowing my saliva before explicitly mentioning this delicate moment. "... that I kiss you." I swallowed a little more saliva. "I thought it was a shared desire. If I had understood that you did not want to, I would of course have held back. I am very sorry."

Bastila made no immediate response. She looked at me. I could not tell at that moment whether it was sadness, pity or regret. What was certain, however, was that she was struggling to take over. But eventually she found the words to continue:

"I never felt any pressure, Corem." She finally confessed. These few words caused me to feel a surge of relief: violently comforting. "I realise that what I said earlier was unfair. And I understand why my words left you thinking that you had somehow taken advantage of me."

The young woman paused for a moment, during which she looked at me with an unprecedented softness in her eyes. She sighed and said:

"I wanted this moment as much as you did. And I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have arbitrarily decided to completely ignore what happened, without consulting you. And I'm sorry that I caused you to believe that you forced me into it, even though I had no intention of doing so."

I took my eyes off Bastila for a moment, as if to regain my composure. Then I ran a hand through my beard, and with a delicate movement, I positioned myself beside the Jedi, who was watching me. I leaned back against the wall, a dozen centimetres from Bastila. I turned my attention to the floor and stared at it for a few seconds. Then I returned to the horizon, and finally met the Jedi's gaze, who eyed apprehensively. In an effort to ease the woman's anxiety, I offered her a small but sincere smile. I felt the Jedi's mood slightly lighten. Eventually she resumed her argument, never taking her eyes off me:

"I behaved cruelly with you. I treated you very badly, Corem. Right from the very beginning to the very end. You, on the other hand, have always been able to deal with events in a mature way. I didn't want to listen to you, while you acted with dignity. I thank you for that. And I ask your forgiveness."

I smiled again at the young woman, nodding slightly.

"I am not angry with you." I replied simply at first. "I can't blame you for feeling tormented by the mess I cause in your so disciplined life." We both let out a soft laugh at these words I had uttered in a decently joking tone, taking care not to damage my sincerity.

"I'm very happy that we've finally reached a point where we can talk about this. That we can move on without spitting at each other all day long. Besides, I need you on this suicidal journey. I'm not sure I'll get anywhere without you by my side."

"You're misjudging yourself." The Jedi retorted sternly. Bastila then added more calmly, "That's very flattering, but I know you'd be more than capable of carrying out this quest without me. You should realise that. Moreover, this whole episode proves that you handle things with much more detachment and intelligence than I do. I'm officially the head of our group, but as time goes by, I'm thinking that I don't really fit in and that my presence might even be harmful."

I frowned violently, and left the wall I was leaning against to face the Jedi again, ready to engage in the next verbal joust:

"I disagree." I said aggressively. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"It's pretty obvious." The Jedi replied with restrained emotion. "The Endar Spire, Taris. All those deaths. Only of my doing."

"Your doing? You are not going to blame yourself for the actions of a destructive maniac? You seem to forget all the lives you've saved through your Battle Meditation and your deep dedication to the Republic. Not to mention the death of Darth Revan." I argued, lucidly. The Jedi had obviously gotten herself into a whirlwind of self-reproach that she had no intention of leaving so soon.

"See?" She answered with a wistful smile. "It's you coming to my rescue again. It shouldn't work that way. Yet another demonstration of my incompetence in looking after you decently." She added, looking at the horizon over my shoulder.

"I thought I was acting with maturity and dignity. Is that how you're trying to demonstrate your supposed incompetence? By pointing out my good behaviour?" I replied ironically, emphasising the incoherence of the Jedi's words. Bastila met my eyes again, nibbling her lip using a supportive hand. She was lost in her crisis, and perhaps too proud to admit at the time that she was speaking nonsense.

Gently, I reached out and took the Jedi's hand away from the lip she was cutting as her anger roared. She did not flinch, and let me proceed. I felt the Jedi relax. However, she had not fully emerged from her torpor. I wanted to stand by her at such a difficult time, so I allowed myself a gesture that normally, and especially after our kiss, she would have rejected. However, the current situation required a little tenderness and human warmth. So I let go of her hand and gently placed mine on her face, my thumb gently brushing her cheekbone and my other fingertips resting peacefully on the nape of her neck, brushing against the Jedi's partially tied hair.

"Please relax, Bastila." I whispered to her in a caring manner.

Bastila was watching me with a look that was still a little tormented. But as time went by, I felt that the young woman was calming down. She blew out a few breaths, as if to get rid of her anger, then spoke in a tired voice:

"Why does everything look so easy to you? Why can't I take things as lightly as you do?"

"Because I don't carry the same weight as you." I answered as simply as possible. Bastila took her eyes off me and went off into the distance. She looked to be thinking.

"I would like you to rely on me when you feel the need." I added. The young woman returned to me and remained in an expectant silence. I continued:

"I'm not just here to find the damn maps, Bastila. I'm also here to help you."

"No, that's not your role, Corem..."

"Yes, it is!" I interrupted sharply. "From the beginning, you've worked like hell for me, to train me, to guide me. And you do it wonderfully. Trust me. With your Battle Meditation making you the last defense of the Republic, Malak chasing you all over the galaxy, and me being the donkey you have to deal with, how not to go crazy?"

I saw Bastila flash an amused smile at what I had just said, to which I replied happily, before repeating in a pleading voice:

"Let me help you."

The Jedi was silent. She just stared at me emotionally. On the one hand, she seemed touched, and on the other, she didn't seem to accept it.

In such a moment of sincerity, esteem and compassion, I couldn't help but visualise us in another reality. A reality in which I allowed myself to get a little closer to her, to lay my other hand on her face, to come and kiss those lips partially bruised by the young woman's anguish. However, this was not our reality. There was a measure of intimacy in this emotionally charged moment; my hand on her face, gently caressing the cool surface of her skin. And the Jedi had never shown any sign of withdrawing from the gesture. However, we were clearly not in an appropriate moment for a potential kiss. I finally decided to end the contact, reluctantly, to spare myself further mental torture. My initiative appeared to make both of us feel a certain unspoken unease. As if we had both wished to continue without really voicing it. As if we knew what was going on in the other's mind, while being unable to assume it.

I turned my attention to the town square behind us, and to the beginning of the alleyway that led to some of the recreational places such as the cantinas, or more decent pubs. Then an idea occurred to me. I smiled, and turned back to Bastila, who looked at me in puzzlement. I grabbed her hand, and, moving backwards, my gaze locked with the Jedi's, I began to step towards the alley. The woman, caught up in my movement, could not help but follow me, but looked somewhat reluctant, questioning.

"Come, I'll take you for a drink!" I announced as cheerfully as Canderous had done when he had made me a similar suggestion.

A suggestion I had refused.

Bastila gave me a disapproving look. Nevertheless, I decided not to let her win this battle. I answered her look with a defiant frown, displaying my determination not to give in.

"I promise we won't stay out late." I added mischievously.

Bastila smiled and gave a defeated sigh, then joined me more openly in our semblance of a walk, in the direction of a proper pub.


Thank you for reading.

The Manaan passages have their share of mushy moments. After all, this fic focuses on Bastila and Revan, so it's hard to skip moments like that (I love them, by the way).

I'd like to thank Le Faucon Bleu once again for his very assiduous follow-up, and his always very interesting comments. I would also like to thank him for mentioning me in his own work (which is undeniably qualitative).

I highly recommend his story! It is a very nice proposal of post-KOTOR events, written with great intelligence and subtlety. A work of rare quality, trust me.

Le Faucon Bleu - Knights of the Old Republic: Revenant