Hello! Last Manaan chapter. I read and re-read my work occasionally; if you spot any big language problem (you will), it might be corrected afterwards. I'm sorry not being able to see them immediately. I do my best, I swear.

The following chapters will be the Leviathan's. One of them is the reason why I chose my story to be rated M. It had been well received by the (very small) French readership, I hope you'll like it despite the difficult moment(s) it presents.


Another star map. Again we had faced many perilous challenges on our quest.

We had at last been able to gather enough information to target a fairly small geographical area where we thought the star map could be found. We had to travel to the Hrakert station, whose scientists had not reported on their ongoing experiment, nor were they responding to calls coming from the surface, causing the Republican authorities, and the Selkath judges, to grow very concerned. We were sent down there to investigate the situation as well. Four of us dived underwater: Bastila, Carth, Mission and myself.

The station was in a state of total chaos: most of the scientists had been killed, and a legion of Selkath who had clearly lost their minds were roaming the maze of rooms and corridors that constituted this unusual place. However, our main objective remained unchanged: the star map. We knew that it could be found near one of the most important drills of the worker plant, situated right beside the laboratory. The only problem was that it was only accessible by 'foot' and equipment seemed to be lacking in our location. Nevertheless, we were lucky enough to get hold of a single suit that was still in service and which, because of its imposing dimensions, was meant for me. It was then decided that I would be the chosen one to retrieve the data from the map, and that I would cross the vast ocean depths full of Fixaran sharks - known to be rather hostile. Mission didn't look too happy about the idea and had searched for every possible way to avoid the need for one of us to undertake such a crusade. But there was simply no alternative. Carth, as usual, had proved to be quite realistic. We needed that data. The future of the Republic depended on it. Bastila, for her part, had been silent ever since we parted after the night we had shared, a silence that only I understood. She only spoke when necessary. Bastila had become very formal with all the members of the crew. Which wasn't such a bad thing, after all, considering that she no longer talked to me. Not even to greet me. Although she had remained faithful to her new behaviour, I had felt a measure of concern for me through our bond; something she had not been able to contain. This fact alone had the power to comfort me: the woman and I were quite clearly engaged in a sustained state of tension. But that could not alter our intense fondness for each other.

I headed out in search of the map, leaving my small group behind in the scientific station. I had needed about three hours to eventually reach the object of our exhausting quest, in which time I had disrupted the so-called drill, allowing me to knock out a gigantic shark blocking the way. The shark was apparently an ancient creature, considered sacred by the Selkath people. That was what two unharmed scientists we had met on the station had told us. One of them had urged me to destroy the drill to stun the shark, to prevent killing it. The other, who was working for the kolto operators, clearly thought otherwise. However, the final decision was mine, and killing such a valuable species was not an option given that the kolto exploitation still had many drills fully capable of continuing the harvest. I was then able to reach the star map, download its data and turn back to join my companions.

After I announced I was coming back via the communicator in the airlock, I felt a sudden rush of nervousness beyond my comprehension. The decompression procedure lasted for almost two minutes, during which I struggled to understand where the feeling originated. The procedure ended and I finally set foot in the room where Carth and Mission were. But where was Bastila? My two friends hurried to me, and helped me to take off the heavy suit. As they busied themselves around me, I glanced around wherever I had a clear view, and noticed that the Jedi was definitely not here. Mission unlocked the last of the safety devices and I could remove the helmet and step out of the suit. Without wasting any time, as I retrieved my belongings, I asked my two companions in a pressing manner:

"Where is Bastila?"

"Bandon. Malak's apprentice is here." Carth indicated uneasily. I shot a panicked look at the Lieutenant. "She decided to handle it while we waited for you to return, to protect us."

"Where are they?" I questioned rather aggressively.

"In the station. Somewhere in the station. I don't know, Corem." Carth admitted. "We were supposed to stay here to get you, that was the point. They left about half an hour ago."

I cast a terrified glance at Carth. It had been half an hour since Bastila had come up against the Dark Lord's apprentice. She was in serious danger. Malak desperately wanted to capture the young woman so he could take advantage of her Battle Meditation. However, Darth Bandon had no interest in keeping her alive. This confrontation was bound to end in bloodshed. A strong wave of terror washed over me, yet I managed to keep it under control, so I grabbed my lightsaber firmly and ran out of the room we were in, looking for Bastila. In my frantic rush, I could hear Carth and Mission screaming at me, imploring me to stay, not to do anything stupid. But the risk of losing Bastila was totally unthinkable. The very idea filled me with agony. I ran with all my might, I didn't know where, I tried to lean on our bond, but in such an emotional turmoil I found myself incapable of feeling her accurately. I needed calm. I needed serenity.

As I got within several hundred yards of Mission and Carth, I decided to stop. I exhaled deeply, and tried to abandon myself to the Force, to feel Bastila. About fifteen seconds passed. Gradually I regained my composure, and slowly I believed I was beginning to perceive our connection. That familiar, comforting glow. Bastila's signature. The mark she left on me whenever we failed to master the bond, whenever we allowed ourselves to sink into each other's aura. Unwittingly, I allowed myself to savour the moment, until something snapped me out of it. A snippet of a voice in the distance. I looked up and concentrated on my surroundings. At the end of the corridor I had walked a long way down, I spotted Bastila's shaky silhouette painfully moving towards me. I turned quickly to my companions still in the suit room and waved my hand, urging them to join me. Not even checking for a reaction, I made another dash for the Jedi. As I made my way to her, I realised that she was dragging herself along, like someone who had been injured. I pushed my strength a little harder and finally reached the young woman, whose eyes struggled to meet mine. Immediately, I positioned myself at her side and slid under her shoulder, holding her waist tightly with my arm. The Jedi was noticeably shaken, and appeared to be reacting with delay. Once she realised that she was physically supported, she let herself collapse, as if her strength had reached its limit, taking advantage of the help I was giving her at that moment. I took a few seconds to examine the little I could see. Soon my eyes were drawn to her thigh, the one on my side. It was soaked in blood, and I noticed what looked like a tourniquet that Bastila had probably improvised. I turned my head as far as I could behind us and could see to my horror an endless red line, faithfully tracking Bastila's steps. The young woman had to be given medical attention or she would bleed to death.

I glanced at Carth and Mission, as they breathlessly came towards us. Carth instinctively mimicked my gesture and came to stand at the Jedi's other shoulder.

"We have to get out of here." Carth reasonably ordered.

As we headed for the hangar space where our submersible awaited us, I could hear Bastila struggling to speak a few words. I cast my eyes towards Carth, tacitly pleading with him to slow down for a minute. He looked reluctant to do so, but complied. I lowered my head to Bastila's, attentive to what she seemed to be saying.

"The map... Corem..." She pronounced hardly.

"I found it, Bastila." I replied in a soothing voice.

"...you? What about you?" She added after an exhalation that sounded extremely uncomfortable.

I squinted, not quite sure what she was getting at. As Carth began to pace again, I said to her, on the assumption that she was asking me how I was, yet seeking to remain as neutral as possible:

"Everything is fine Bastila. Everything is fine. We are leaving this place and handing you over to a medical unit."

The Jedi nodded slightly, then let herself be carried a little more by Carth and myself. We made it to the submersible within ten minutes. We made our way to the Republic Embassy, where Roland Wann was already waiting for us. In the ship, Mission contacted the man and requested that medics be sent to pick up Bastila as soon as we arrived. Carth was piloting, and I was sitting in one of the few passenger seats next to Bastila, whom we had managed to lay down and strap in. I didn't know what happened to Darth Bandon, and I didn't really care at that moment. Bastila was alive, that was all that mattered. But she was very weak, and the more time passed, the more her condition worsened. I could better examine her wound and other possible injuries. I could tell that the young woman was only suffering from the one on her thigh. I had enough time to loosen the tourniquet, which was completely soaked with her blood - it no longer had any effectiveness -, to inspect the wound. It was hard to get a clear view, but it seemed to be deep and probably impacted the artery, explaining the endless bleeding and the woman's deplorable condition. This was a potentially lethal wound. Something had to be done. I tore off a piece of my bure and tied it tightly around the Jedi's thigh, hoping to stem the flow of blood and postpone the fatal outcome as long as possible.

We eventually reached the embassy, where, thank Gods, the medical team was well and truly ready for us. Bastila was immediately taken to the nearest centre, leaving the three of us with Wann, to deal with the last questions and formalities concerning the underwater station.

A day and a night had passed. We had completed the final paperwork with the Republican and Selkath authorities. We were free to leave the planet. But Bastila was still in the medical centre; nevertheless, we had been informed that the Jedi had been healed and would be discharged within the day. My thoughts were only on her. Knowing that she was out of trouble made me feel so relieved that I felt extenuated.

I was walking through the streets of the Republican sector of Atho with Jolee. I was completely lost in thought, which did not go unnoticed by the old Jedi. With a tap on my shoulder, he interrupted my silent walk.

"How much longer are you going to keep sulking like that?" Jolee asked, in his characteristic style.

I cast an irritated glance at the old man, and replied in annoyance:

"I'm not sulking."

"Go get her." Bindo simply stated. I widened my eyes in confusion.

"What?" I asked, overacting.

"Bastila. She may be leaving the medical centre soon. No one will be there to escort her to the ship. Go."

I clenched my jaws and stared down uncomfortably.

"This isn't a wise idea, Jolee." I finally admitted.

"Why is that?" he questioned with feigned candour. I suspected the old man knew once again what had happened between Bastila and me.

"We' re on the outs. " I admitted plainly.

"I'm not learning anything new, my boy! Just because of that, you're going to leave her alone to get to the Ebon Hawk? She is doing better, but she may need your help."

"It had better be someone else than me." I persisted in my continuing discomfort, struggling to ignore the fact that Jolee did indeed sound like he knew more than he should. In any case, nothing seemed to escape the man's attention.

"No. It would be better if it were you than someone else." Jolee retorted with a dose of defiance in his voice.

I stared at the old Jedi and sighed defeatedly. Of course I wanted to get back to Bastila, but the last time we'd really talked, I'd practically kicked her out of my room. And since then, she hadn't even laid eyes on me. Yet I longed to meet her again, and to risk the possibility that our next encounter might be conflictual. In the station, she had not rejected me, she had accepted my help, and seemingly expressed concern for me, despite her alarming physical condition. Perhaps there was a chance for our relationship to ease. I nodded slightly and informed the Jedi:

"I'll see you on the ship."

I then set off in the direction of the medical centre. Soon, I broke into a brisk stride, as I feared I might miss my friend's outing.

I finally reached the medical centre, located in a neutral part of Atho: neither the Republic nor the Sith had any effective power in this area, but they were free to move about, which they did, as long as they stayed away from the enemy faction. Well, at least that was the way the Republic worked. However, the Sith did occasionally engage in provocative behaviour and mischief. Fortunately, they looked rather peaceful on this particular day, and just patrolled the area.

I made my way towards the centre, but when I spotted in the distance the familiar shadowy figure of Bastila, ready to leave the area, I turned and strode out to meet her briskly and resolutely. I wisely avoided calling out to the young woman in the middle of the street, thus revealing her presence here to the Sith who happened to be in close proximity at the time. Moreover, in the same light, the woman kept dressing in a more common way. She did not wear her usual attire when she knew that there might be Sith lurking in places our crew had to travel to. In these circumstances, she abandoned the tight hairstyle she usually wore, and more willingly left her hair completely loose, as she had done during our last night in town. Which was not to my displeasure.

When I finally reached Bastila - who had managed to make her way out of the district and head for one of the vast corridors that would lead her to the Ebon Hawk - I placed a hand on her shoulder, to let her know I was there. She flinched and turned sharply towards me, breaking the physical contact I had initiated. When she realised that it was me, she released a light sigh of relief, aiming her gaze at the ground.

"You scared me." She just said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." I responded earnestly, my eyes gently resting on the Jedi. A few seconds passed in an awkward suspension. Then I resumed, trying to conceal my discomfort:

"And I'm sorry for the delay. A little longer and I'd have missed you."

Bastila raised her eyes to me, her expression reflecting a fair measure of uncertainty.

"I don't remember asking you anything." She replied at first, acerbically. "You wanted us to stop seeing each other, so why not take the plunge right now?" She continued in an accusatory and resentful tone. I thought I could see in her eyes something like regret at the words she just spoke.

I made no answer. I gave her a sinister look which she seemed unable to withstand. The woman sighed. I couldn't take it anymore. Our relationship, handled this way, was turning into a living nightmare. I couldn't really get through to the woman. On the one hand, she would reject me on the grounds that the Code forbade her from living our relationship, on the other hand she would come to me and run straight to my longing arms. And when I eventually demanded that we should put an end to all this, just as she had originally planned, she would throw this right back in my face.

I tightened my jaws, lowered my eyes to the ground so that Bastila could not detect the agony that was swirling inside me.

"Okay." I only replied, and went on my way, leaving the Jedi alone, as she apparently wanted. When I had walked a few yards, I was called back by the woman, in an almost pleading tone:

"No. Please wait."

I stopped moving, but kept my back to Bastila. I was reluctant to face her, to cry out all of my grief and my frustration. Although I was on the verge of bursting out in a way I had rarely done in my life, I managed to restrain myself. I was brought out of this channelled rage by a gentle pressure on my arm; the Jedi had reached me, and gently laid a hand on me, to summon me, and perhaps also to soothe my mind. I eventually turned to the young woman, and all that rage gradually faded away as I took note of Bastila's apologetic and sorrowful look - so much in contrast to the harsh attitude she had just displayed. Now fully attentive, my eyes locked with hers, the Jedi removed her hand from my arm and said embarrassingly:

"I beg your pardon. I appreciate that you came to me. I really do."

I said nothing. Torn between my compassion for her and a shameful resentment that had suddenly set in, I just kept staring at the young woman. She bit her lower lip for a moment, struggling to hold my gaze, and then said with the same embarrassment:

"And since we're both here, we might as well walk back to the ship together."

I raised an eyebrow at this slightly clumsy announcement. Bastila, who was visibly aware that she had badly expressed herself, quickly resumed:

"I can move around without any assistance. But I wouldn't mind your company in getting to the Ebon Hawk."

I chuckled, somewhere between irony and sincerity.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, then..." I echoed underneath my nervous laughter.

I felt the urge to add fuel to the fire at this point. I had a strong urge to tell her that she shouldn't feel obliged, that we could go our separate ways. I imagined her catching the barely disguised metaphor behind these words. Bastila turned her attention downwards, shielding her uneasiness. I knew she was doing her best to express her thoughts, and as usual, she was doing it poorly, without great sensitivity. She showed a disillusioned expression in reaction to my derisive retort. Then sensing my friend's distress, I broke off laughing, and thoughtfully resumed, keeping my eyes on that woman who was so roughly stirring my own sad heart:

"Shall we go?"

The young woman met my gaze, somewhat incredulously, and timidly nodded with a polite smile. We finally set off in the direction of the Ebon Hawk. The first couple of minutes were remarkably quiet. No one seemed to dare to speak to the other. Then I started talking about the young woman's confrontation with Bandon. In the end, since Bastila had been promptly taken to the medical centre, no one knew much about it. The Jedi described her duel, how she had managed to overpower the Sith, and had struck the fatal blow in one of the station's generator rooms. It was at the conclusion of the fight, when she thought the man had died, that the Sith stabbed her in the thigh before taking his last breath. Gradually, the exchange between us became easier, to the point of regaining the air of the discussions we used to share. I told her about my expedition to the star map, in great detail. I didn't want any further friction between the two of us, so I tried to keep our conversation as uninterrupted as possible. We continued on our way as if everything had been reset, as if nothing had ever happened between us. As we progressed, we made stops here and there, without ever ending our talks, as if we wanted to extend the time we spent walking, until we reached the hangars, not so far from the area where Bastila had been treated. Eventually, we returned to the Hawk and were forced to end this simple but pleasant moment to board the ship, complete the final preparations before leaving Manaan for good and travelling to Korriban.