Chapter 31

Bastila couldn't get to the Enclave fast enough. She pushed her dewback to near exhaustion and collapse before she would relent the mad pace. Neither Juhani nor Mission dared to comment upon the matter. Juhani knew what it was as a Jedi to love another, how forbidden it was, how it felt to feel it so deeply that you risked much to protect her. The Masters claimed love lead to the Dark Side. Juhani knew it was the farthest thing from it. Love was redemption. It was motivation. It was pure. She could not fault her fellow Jedi for the actions she took back at the Czerka office or now as they raced to save a woman the Cathar greatly admired. She would have done exactly the same for Belaya. Of course, the Masters had chastised and penalized their relationship. They cited it had been that relationship that had led to Juhani's stumble to the Dark Side.

It was so contradictory. As Padawans you were told there were no emotions; only peace- but the Masters in charge of your training told you to trust your instincts, to follow your feelings to trust them. Where not feelings the same as emotions? How can you follow your feelings if you're supposed to suppress your emotions? The Jedi Code and the Masters sent very mixed messages to its followers.

Was it any wonder so many followed Revan to war to serve the betterment of the Jedi—the Force and forsake the Masters' commands to not become involved?

The Master's words stood as a warning: a prophecy. The Jedi who followed Revan would fall. Many Jedi would fall. And Sith fire will reduce the galaxy to cinder. For the galaxy is a pile of stone and metal and wood and cloth and dust, and as dust, will vanish into the wind. Only the Revanchist themselves exist. And the fate of the galaxy hangs on their every syllable. Only the Revanchist exists. And only stout arcane ships can save them. Arcane ships forged from stardust...and a tidal wave of heroes' blood.

Now the cycle turns. The Revanchist has fallen. Starforged ships sail the galaxy. The Order that once stood against her decision to defend the Republic, were quickly reduced to her wrath. The Masters judged the future from what they had suffered in the past. They had sent a small team to silence the Revanchist. But her legacy lives on, perverted and degenerated by her former apprentice.

Revan once stated negotiation was for tourney. She begged the Council to ask her when that has ever profited a world. The Mandalorians could not be negotiated with. They had not the capacity for words. How had she turned so many? Words... so many words, something she had great capacity for. She appealed to the young idealistic Knights and Padawans. They had served with her and suffered the thrusts and cuts of battle of the Mandalorian Wars they knew how true peace was forged. She asked them not to be deceived. She appealed to their beliefs that Jedi Code was only a guideline. To be true protectors, true peace keepers they must stop the rise of the corruption from within. Only then could they stand against the kath hound at the door that was a greater threat.

Revan before the fall and Skye were not so different, Juhani mused. Passion drove them both, propelled them to do the right thing which wasn't always the lawful thing to do. Bastila too was now walking that same path. Perhaps that was what it was be a true Jedi. Something the Masters may have forgotten in their seclusion. It was passion now that drove Bastila on her frantic pace.

The great lizards were wheezing and moaning by the time the trio reached the gates of the sandpeople's stronghold. Bastila somersaulted off, marched up to the two guards at the gate. Despite they could not understand her, she gave the orders.

"As you can see we have the vaporators. You WILL let us pass."

The one nearest to her barked at her in his unintelligible speech, nodded to his counterpart and soon the accordion wooden slat door rose up. Bastila walked forward leaving Juhani and Mission to see to their mounts and the anti-grave sledges they were dragging behind them.

The guards within were stunned to see their return, most tried to bar her way but the bleating of the protesting dewbacks turned their attention a fraction of enough time for the Sentinel to push past their meager blockade to the Chief's fire. When she didn't see Revan, she panicked. Her hand shot down to her side to the hilt of her saber. It was only a second later that she realized the droid was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she!" she demanded. "What have you animals done to her?" she hissed. Her eyes burning with contempt as she stared down the Chief through his mask. Through the bond she cried out: 'REVAN! Where are you?'

For a moment, there was silence.

'Revan!' a near desperate plea.

'I am here. Ease you're mind Bas, I'm here.'

The Nagai rounded the corner trailed by two armed guards and HK-47. Instinct drove Bastila, without thought of where they were, or who they were with. She rushed to her bondmate's side, grabbed the raven-haired Jedi by the shoulders seemingly inspecting her for injuries or any malfeasance the Sandpeople had visited upon her.

Revan took both of the other woman's hands into her own and squeezed them gently. "I promise you, I'm fine," she looked deep into the blue-grey eyes. "Babe, I'm fine."

"Then where were you?"

"Buying time. Schmoozing. I even got them to give me a map of the Eastern Dune Sea. All I had to do was listen to their history for a few hours. But I want confirmation with the Jawa map. Been strategizing too. I got them to give me a tour of the enclave. There are four middle chambers surrounded by an exterior walkway. It's a good design to defend their people."

Bastila scowled and pushed at the older woman's shoulder causing her to shift unsteadily on her feet. "I was concerned for your safety and you were just taking a stroll!"

Revan smirked. "Love you too," she said in a voice filled with merriment. "It took you a couple of hours to go to Anchorhead and a couple of hours to return here. I had to keep their impatience and hostility flaccid until you got back somehow."

"Interjection: Master I believe postponing the final stages of negotiations with the Chief is unwise." HK interrupted the couple. "He is expressing his disbelief that your minions have returned at all."

"Repeat exactly: I am Jedi. My companions are Jedi. Never again will you question the word that is given you by Jedi. Never again will you question my word or those of my companions. You have the vaporators. You will now do as promised.

"I want the Jawas and useless Twi'lek slave. You will no longer harass the ignorant feet people. I have walked the paths of your village. I know its vantage points and I have seen its weakness. Imagine what a bunch of stampeding banthas... your sacred animals could do to this place. I will turn this knowledge from my mind and let it drift on the desert winds when you follow through."

The chief's response through HK's translation was clipped to be sure. "Translation: Take the slaves and be gone Jedi. If you return before we have left Jedi, your bones will be fed to the sands!" If it was possible, the droid would have smiled. "Commentary: Master I do believe I am starting to like this individual."

"You would," she turned her back to the Chieftain and addressed her companions. "We get the slaves and we get the hell out of here, now."

Skye and HK led the way around the oblong enclave to the area where the slaves were held. The contempt in the guards was obvious but word came down from the Chief that the Jedi, their slaves, the droid and Twi'lek were allowed access.

The door raised in an onomatopoeic slap-shuck of wood against wood. Even before it opened the rank odour of the cell blasted the Jedi and Mission like a bullet. There was only a single clay pot that acted as a cess pit which flies orbited like tiny asteroids. It was difficult to say which smelled worse: the midden pile or the man in the cell.

Relief flooded his brown eyes as he realized he was not facing one of those barbaric rag-heads. He looked at the four women and grinned. "You there! I'm a high ranking executive Czerka corporation. There is a big reward if you bring me back to Anchorhead."

Skye snorted. Not only did he smell of poodoo he was actually shovelling it and expecting her to buy it.

"Griff!" Mission gasped sounding hurt, "Don't you recognize me? It's Mission!"

"Mission?" Disbelief spewed from his mouth. "Is it really you? I heard Taris was destroyed. I thought you were dead. Oh joy of joys my little sister is alive!"

Skye was watching the interaction carefully. She knew what was coming. Mission had so many doubts, so many hopes- only one of them would be confirmed and the Jedi's gut told her it wasn't the one the teenager wanted.

"I have to ask you something Griff..." the young scoundrel said, her voice unsure of what she wanted to hear and hoping it wouldn't be what she thought to be true. She didn't want to believe what that shutta ex-girlfriend of her brother's had said. "It's important. I ran into Lena. She... she said it was your idea to leave me on Taris. It isn't true? Is it?"

"Ah... well... there's the truth and then there's the truth. Ya know." Griff muttered like a child caught red handed with a stolen cookie from the cookie jar and telling his mother he had no idea how it got into his hand. "I always meant to go back to Taris and get you little sis, just as soon as I had the credits to pay off my debts." He smiled silkily. "But credits are hard to come by."

"That's a load of poodoo! Lena said she was willing to pay my way, but you said no. She said you wanted to leave me behind! That I'd only get in the way. I didn't want to believe it was true! I'm your sister! How could you abandon me like that?!"

"Come on sis, you didn't need me to look out for you anymore. You may have been young but you knew how to take care of yourself."

"I was ten years old!"

"Well yeah. But you did okay. And besides, you're here now. Everything worked out fine," he waved off her protests as he would shoo a fly.

"That's it? That's all you have to say to me after all these years of deserting me on Taris?"

His posture took one of a beggar. "Well that and... could you please get me out of here. You've got couple of tough looking friends there."

"They are JEDI! Griff we made a bargain to get you out already. You can find your own way back to Anchorhead." Mission's voice became cold and edged like a vibroblade. "What? Is there something else?" she spat when she saw his contrite expression.

"I...well... I wanted to thank you. And um... you look like you're doing well. Financially, I mean. How about loaning your big brother a few credits to get back on my feet? A couple of hundred should do it... or... a thousand? It'd really help me out."

Mission was aghast. "You're hitting me up for credits?" She strode up to him her teeth barred. "I don't believe this!" her hands went to her hips. "Lena was right about you Griff You fracking worthless sleemo! We should have just left you to the Sandpeople!"

"Ah, don't not be like that sis."

"Don't talk to me anymore Griff! Ever!" Mission stormed out of the cell, her face wet with tears. A moment later with a head nod from Skye to HK, the droid followed her.

"Hum..." Griff shook his head. "That didn't go well. Little sis was always too fiery for her own good."

Skye tsked. "What did you expect, boy? You discarded her on Taris without a second thought and now you want her credits. Of course, she's pissed off."

"She'll be okay," Griff said dismissively. "As soon as she cools down. We've had our fights before. Too bad though, I could really have used those credits. I need a helping hand right now. You may have saved my life but I don't have a single credit to my name. Say, you wouldn't be able to spare me some credits just until I get back on my feet, ya know."

"No." Skye folded her arms over her chest. "I saved your life, but that is all you get from me."

"Pft. I guess you've been talking to Lena too."

"I didn't need to. The fact that you abandoned your sister when she was not but a youngling to go play, told me all I needed about you. There is more worth in that piss hole then will ever come from you," she said darkly.

"And I thought Jedi were supposed be all goodie-goodie helping everyone. Doesn't matter. I'll get by. I always do. I already got a job lined up for me: a job in Greeda's supply shop at the Czerka office. Suits me better than mining. And I aint saying I'm not appreciative of the rescue. I might be able to hook you up with a job or two with Greeda as thanks. Tell Mission I'm glad she ain't dead."

The dark-haired Jedi shook her head. She'd run across guys like this all the time- scammers, grifters, basic narcissistic lowlifes who saw only their own desires. Those desires nearly got this pathetic lump of carbon matter iced. If it hadn't been for the Jedi and his little sister, he would have been.

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"You are not the ghost giants that hold us trapped. The People of Sand. You are from the old city, new." The braver of the three Jawas said. "Iziz must have sent you coming. You rescuer? You must be."

"I secured your freedom; you can head back to Anchorhead." Skye announced.

"Many thanks you must have. The Jawas under Iziz will reward with trade. Find him you will see."

"Trade?" the Jedi shook her head. "No I can get trade anywhere. You have something more important. I want the map to the Eastern Dune Sea, I was promised it upon your rescue. Iziz said you had possession of it. Do you still or was it taken from you?"

"Iziz is being correct. Map I having. The ghost giants not be taking it. Giving it to you," the little male, or at least Skye thought the Jawa to be male, reached into the folds of his robes and produced a standard ODS file and handed it over. "Many warnings you must have. Bad place, Sea of East. Dragon be hunting there."

"Yes, I know. It's the dragon we seek; we need something we believe to be in its lair." Skye said.

This caused a small exclamation amongst the Jawas and Skye couldn't blame the little sentients for thinking she and her companions mad for actively seeking out a krayt dragon. Of course the locals in Anchorhead thought the same when the Jedi sought out the sandpeople's enclave to broker a peace treaty.

But it had been done. And so too would this.

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Outside the wooden walls of the enclave Mission was waiting for them by the by mounts, her face buried in the saddle of one of the dewbacks as she wept. The other women gave a look to each other, then to the broken-hearted teenager. Off in the distance was a small blue speck... no doubt Griff was making his way back to the city by following the tracks left behind by the Jedi's comings and goings within the sandpeople's territories.

Bastila placed a hand upon her bondmate's shoulder. "I think this one is yours."

With a sigh, Skye said, "Yeah." Something in her gut told her it was going to end up like this. The sort of man Griff was was selfish, self-centric and an all-around underhanded jackass. He was only interested in something if affected him.

"He doesn't care!" Mission's angry cry was muffled due to her face being pressed against the leather of the saddle's skirt. "He left me Skye! He left me on purpose. And all he wanted from me was credits. He didn't even give me a hug!"

"Get into the saddle, Little One," the Nagai said gently knowing right now all Mission wanted to do, needed to do was rant.

Around them the Jawas were filing past, heading back for the city just as Griff had. They would make it safely back to Anchorhead, besides the Jedi would be close at hand should any trouble before them.

"He's such an asshole." Mission obeyed the command to get into the saddle and scooted back as Skye vaulted to the seat. "Glad you aint dead, Mission," she repeated his words mocking his tone when he said it. "Like he actually gives a shit. I should have left you with the fracking ragheads! You hear me asshole!" she shouted out causing the lizard beneath them to sky a little before Skye got it under control. "Sorry." She murmured half expecting the Jedi to chastise her for startling their mount.

"You have nothing to be sorry about Mission. Nothing at all." Skye said reassuringly. She reached at her side and pulled free a small flask from one of the pouched on her utility belt. It was much smaller than her water canteen. "Here."

Mission took it. "That's this?"

"Twelve-year-old Corellian Iced Brandy. Take a few sips. As much or as little as you want."

Mission started at the small silver flask. The most she drank were a few beers or ales when she was with the Hidden Beks. She never drank anything as rich or heady as brandy let alone one of the more expensive brews around.

She unscrewed the cap and lifted the flask to her lips. "I thought alcohol dehydrates you."

"It does. But you needn't worry. I won't let you fall to dehydration. We're not far form the city. We've got the map to the Easter Dun Sea. I'll be taking the other Jedi there, why don't you stay back within the city? Take some time."

"Time for what?" Mission practically snapped. "Make peace with that fetcher brother of mine?"

"If you wish. We go to war Mission. Moments of peace will be very rare. If it comes to you seize it for all it is. Your brother is a piece poodoo, that is certain. After you left he begged credits from me and even tried to lure me in with a scheme of his. I turned him down on both accounts.

"Make peace with him or don't. You must act in accordance to your conscience. Mission, no one can tell you what that is. The best thing to do with a pebble in the shoe is to find it and cast it out and think no more of it."

"I rather punch its two front teeth in." Mission murmured then took a long heady daft of the brandy. Her eyes watered and she coughed and gasped as the strength if as it hit her gut.

"It works too."

"You're a Jedi aren't you supposed tell me to let go of my anger or so something like that?"

"I would if you were a Jedi, yes. But you are not a Jedi and your anger is justified. He abandoned you and not just once. As you say he wants nothing from you but credits. He cares little for your life beyond the fact you still have it. He's the stone in the shoe so cast him aside and be done with it. He is your blood. You love him because he is your brother but he isn't the man you knew. Maybe he never was.

"I could council you against acting on your anger. If I did I would be a hypocrite. I acted on anger when I challenged Carth to the honor duel. He pushed too many of my buttons. Kept going on and on with his conspiracies, hidden treacheries and everyone was a turncoat. He continues to be a frightened little boy jumping at shadows and every little noise believing Sith lords lurk under his bed and closet like the boogie man.

"He has skill sets that remain useful in our fight against Malak. It's why that particular pebble continues to remain in my shoe, but my anger for him is for the most part gone. You have other options. I say be pissed at your brother, knock his teeth in if it will make you feel better. Hell, he deserves it. I sure as hell felt better after besting Onasi in that duel. But don't carry it with you when we leave this fracking dust bowl. Don't let anger be shackles of hatred."

"Pfft. Now ya sound leak a'Shedi." Mission slurred, the brandy was hitting her hard. By the time the companions were at the city gates to rendezvous with the men of the Ebon Hawk the young Twi'lek was all but passed out from it.

Bastila shook her head at her fellow Jedi's choice of dealing with the distraught teenager.

"I suppose that was one way to handle her."

The Nagai smirked. "It worked, didn't it?"

When they saw the merfolk, Zaalbar walked up to Skye and Mission's dewback. "What happened to her?" there was no mistaking the brotherly concern in his barks, something that was sorely lacking in Griff's voice earlier.

"Nothing a bit of rack time won't cure." Skye answered. "Help me down with her will you?"

The great Wookie took the slight frame of his friend into his hairy arms cradling her as a babe-in-arms. His nose wrinkled when he caught wind of the strong alcohol on her breath. Skye proceeded to update the others on what had happened within the enclave, including what transpired between brother and sister.

"So your solution was to get a minor drunk?" Carth growled reproachfully.

"Phissh off, Scaredy-pants." Mission muttered in her stupor. "I ain't your dad ans you ain't my kid," she frowned at her words, "I mean ot'er way round," she spiralled her finger in the air.

Onasi was about to open his mouth to chastise the girl for her indignant lip but a huge calloused hand of Canderous fell on his shoulder. "Let it go. The Whelp knew what she was doing. And you're dumber than you look if you're getting into an argument with a drunk." To Zaalbar he said. "Furball, take her sorry ass back to the ship. Like the boss said let the kid sleep it off."

"I recommend having a bucket near the bunk as well as a tall glass of water." Juhani advised the Wookiee as he started for the gate.

"She'll need more than water for the hangover." Zaalbar grunted.

"Check the medbay, there should be something in there." Juhani replied. "I do not envy the headache that she will have."

Ordo left Carth's side and motioned to the Jedi. "We had our own little brand of excitement. And you'll never guess who we ran into out here in the sand."

"Give me the SitRep." Skye said in Revan's voice to the men who remained.

Ordo and Onasi in tandem spoke of the Raider hit squads, the wraids, the idolatrous hunter and his wife's unique brand of vengeance that utilized his own battle droids against him. Then they came to Carlo Nord and his mercs.

"How in the hell did Mr. Mushroom Hat survive the bombing?" Skye asked incredulously.

"He's a cockroach. The little shit is a survivor. Or was. He didn't survive this second encounter. I made sure of it." Canderous remarked boastfully. "He's nothing but meat to be wasted.

"With the Dark Jedi, we encountered earlier and now Nord, it is a sure bet Malak knows we are here looking for the Star Map. We can also make safe assertions we will have more such encounters on the other worlds. He may send more than just a handful of fallen Jedi after us."

"You're thinking of apprentices?" Skye turned to Bastila.

"He is now the Master is he not? He will have apprentices, a chosen one from the pool Dark Jedi that will serve as his right hand as he did Revan."

"Another Darth..." Ravensong nodded. "I'd say that is a pretty safe assumption. He may even have a couple of chosen ones that vie for his approval. Taking us down or prisoners will surely be a mark of glory for them. Knowing Tin Jaw, he'll turn it into a competition—some kind of race."

"Then we need to move with care." Juhani supplied. Looking at Carth she added. "Care, not fear. We cannot be afraid of what lies in the unknown."

"Why did you look at me when you said that?" the human grossed.

"Because you're the only one of us that's paranoid." Ordo answered for the Cathar. "So what's the plan Whelp?"

"Fresh mounts, some food then we head out for the dragon caves. The maps I got from the Raider chieftain and the Jawas match up. We know where to go. It's just a matter of getting there. And we don't have a lot of time to waste."

"Who's going?" Carth asked, still feeling jaded from the earlier slight.

"All of us." Ravensong said. "Save for the kids- they can stay back with the Hawk. Besides, Mission is in no condition to travel. Actually HK I want you to remain as well, help guard the ship."

"Sarcastic statement: Oh wonderful. Babysitting. Reproachful protest: Master I am better serving as a combat unit not a nanny."

"Well now you can do both. Make sure no unauthorized personal get near the Hawk. Besides weren't you the one that pointed out that T3 wasn't fit for guard duty? Now you can show him how it's done."

"Compliant answer: Very well Master. I will vaporize any meatbag that tries to board the Ebon Hawke without prior permission."

"You know for a droid she sure sulks a lot." Carth said watching the crestfallen assassin droid move back into the city.

"Something the two of you have in common." Skye deftly commented gaining chuckles from the others for her jest. "I had no idea brooding was something transferable between man and machine."

"You can really try a man's patience." Onasi snapped grumpily.

"A talent" Skye said nonplussed, "born of years of practice."

"Perhaps we should move on." Bastila sagely interrupted any forth coming argument. "The suns are going to set within a few hours and then it will be too dangerous to move in the night."

"Perhaps we should wait until the dawn." Juhani suggested. "Even if we make it to the dragon's nest before nightfall we shall not make it back before such. And I do not fancy spending the night in a dragon's den even after slaying it. We could all do with a bit of rest."

"Wisely said. Fighting a dragon at dusk isn't all that smart, it knows that territory we don't. Who knows what lurks in those crevices of the rock formations. Even if we brokered peace with the Raiders, they'll still have some strike teams out there that haven't heard about it yet." Skye nodded. "Dawn it is."

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AN: I know it might be confusing to switch back and forth from Revan and Skye POV but I want to show that between our bonded pair they've accepted the identity though outwardly to the rest of the group Revan is still going by her appointed num-de-plume.