Dantooine was much as she remembered.

As they swept toward the tiny Khoonda Spaceport grass waved for kilometers in all directions, cut by the occasional lazy river or stream or copse of trees. All as flat and yellow and dull as she remembered.

"Hell of a place," Atton commented.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's why they stuck an Enclave here." She frowned. "It's been ten years — you don't think anyone remembers me, right?"

"Yeah, no." The sarcasm didn't leave his opinion to her imagination. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"It was over ten years ago. Twelve, I think. This was where they sent the problem Padawans."

"I can't imagine you being a 'problem.'"

"Oh, I wasn't. But Revan and Alek got sent here, and I think Revan lied and got them to send me along." She glanced over. "They had a habit of sneaking out on Coruscant and getting into trouble."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Khoonda appeared on the horizon, and their console dinged.

"Looks like a landing pad there," Trista said, pointing. A few other ships sat on the building's perimeter, but only one dedicated, walled landing pad appeared. "Think you can set her down without hitting a wall?"

"Like I said, sweets, you won't even feel it."

She half-smirked at him as he glanced over, and the ship began to descend into the walls. It touched down firmly — not invisibly, as he'd promised, but not hard enough to drag him for. Trista unstrapped and patted his shoulder.

"Much better than last time."

"You're a damn comedian," he shouted after her.

The others were already waiting in the main hold, and Atton followed her only a few seconds later. Trista wrapped her coat tightly around her.

"I'll head off and into Khoonda," she said. "I'll see what the situation is, and then we'll talk about what to do."

"Or we can all go," Atton said. "Isn't like the whole galaxy wants you dead, or anything."

Trista glared at him, but Bao-Dur spoke before she could. "He is right. How can we be sure the Sith have not already arrived?"

"All right, fine. We'll all go."

"/T3=stay with ship/" There was a solid finality in his tone, and Trista opted against arguing.

"Bao-Dur, do you want to look for ship parts?"

He nodded. "I do not know what's here, but there may be something we can use."

"Kreia?"

She paused a moment past the question, then turned on her heel. "There are things I must attend to. I will join you later."

Trista sighed and looked back at Atton and the Handmaiden. "Looks like it's just us."

"Great," Atton said unenthusiastically. Trista rolled her eyes and started for the ramp.

At the bottom, as the ramp dropped, stood a mousy, dark-haired woman with a datapad and stylus, bored and waiting for their information.

"Here to join the dismantling of the old Enclave, I assume," she said, disinterested. "You must speak to Administrator Adare."

"Excuse me?" Trista asked.

"You're a scavenger, right? Your ship is beat up enough." Trista glanced back at the Hawk, catching Atton's shrug. "You look different, though. Cleaner, mostly."

"I'm not a scavenger."

"Oh? A mercenary, then? No one else comes here."

Trista glanced at the walls as she contemplated her response. "I, um, I'm visiting. I used to live here."

"Oh! Well, if you haven't been back since the war, much has changed. You'll want to go to Khoonda and ask about your family. There was... a lot of movement when the Sith invaded. Hopefully your folks are fine." She was still taking notes on the datapad, which Trista was thankful for as she swallowed heavily. She cleared her throat.

"I'm certain I lost everyone in the war." One way or another.

"My apologies, then. Still, you'll want to head into the main building. Sign here, please?"

Trista took the stylus and hesitated before signing her name Trista Galon. A quick glance placed Bao-Dur nearby, speaking to a mechanic, and no one else taking much interest in their group. Good.

"Thank you, miss. Enjoy your stay in Khoonda." The greeter walked off, and Trista waved Atton and Handmaiden after her. A protocol droid crossed their path, where he was wandering in a large circle in the middle of the landing pad, and she tapped its shoulder. It turned back and launched into its spiel.

"Greetings and good day, traveler! On behalf of the Khoonda settlement, I welcome you to Dantooine. How may I serve you?"

"Yes," Trista said, "can you give me a rundown of the situation here?"

"Since the destruction of the Jedi Enclave four years ago, salvage of the local ruins has become a key area of growth for the local community." The droid stuttered occasionally in playback. "If that interests you, you may visit the famed ruins at your own risk. They are northwest of Khoonda. Warning: Zherron, the head of the local militia, strongly advises salvagers to avoid the dangerous Enclave sublevel."

"Fair enough. Do you have information about the bombardment?"

The question was met by a series of clicks, whirs, and stutters, before the droid replied, "My apologies. I have no recollection of the Sith invasion topic."

Trista glanced at Atton, who tapped his head and mouthed "droids."

"The Sith invasion?"

More clicks and whirs. "Error. Memory overflow. Resetting. How may I be of further assistance?"

Trista folded her hands behind her. "Run a diagnostic and report, please."

"Processing." The droid whirred for about a minute. "Exterior damage analysis: level seven impairment. Multiple casing breaches detected. Bipedal servos misaligned by 32 degrees. Memory storage overflow. Memory unit is 56 months overdue for maintenance."

Trista whistled. "That's... a lot of damage." She pulled out a few repair parts. "Shut down for a minute, I'll see what I can do."

The droid obliged, and she popped his chassis open.

"What, do you need a full recounting of the bombardment?" Atton asked.

"I want to know what the Enclave is like and, judging by this droid's casing, it was there. And it looks like an old Jedi model."

They were quiet as she finished the repairs she could do. The memory overflow needed a computer, but the other things were easy enough, and she transferred some older records to her datapad for safekeeping before switching the droid back on.

"Processing," the droid stated, as he whirred upright. "Greetings, Jedi. Welcome back to Dantooine."

"Godsdamn it," Trista said.

Handmaiden's eyes darted to the perimeter, but Atton muttered "damn it" behind her.

"Hey!" Bao-Dur's mechanic spun. "Did that droid just call you a Jedi?"

"Nope," she replied, "I'm sure it didn't." The datapad-wielding woman had turned and was now backing out the doors.

"May I be of any further service, Jedi?" The droid asked, and Trista groaned.

"I can shoot it," Atton volunteered.

"No!" the mechanic said. "It did! I heard it!"

"The droid's clearly damaged." Trista motioned to it. "Do I look like a Jedi?"

He stopped and studied her for a moment, then chuckled. "Well, no, I guess not. Your eyes ain't glowing, and you don't have horns out your forehead. Sorry for bein' jumpy — Jedi aren't too welcome around here, you know."

"Oh?" Trista glanced at Atton, whose expression screamed told you so.

"They caused all the bad over the last five years!" It didn't take a rudimentary connection to the Force to read his anger. "Just — bah, don't get me started. Got too much work to stand around and complain about Jedi. Ask anyone in Khoonda, they'll tell you. Bah. Crazy droid." He waved his hand and stormed off. Bao-Dur nodded and followed him, and Trista turned back to the droid.

"Is that a common attitude?"

"Very much so, Master Jedi."

She sighed. "Great. So why do you keep calling me one?"

"My memory banks recognize you as a Jedi. You are among many trained in the Academy here prior to its destruction during the Sith invasion."

She raised an eyebrow. "Can you stop calling me one?"

"Certainly."

"And what of me, specifically?"

"You are on the register as one of the Jedi who left the Enclave to fight in the Mandalorian Wars. My memory has no record of your return before now."

"And... that's it, right? Nothing more than that?"

"You had no interaction with this droid. However, I have one instance of conversation between Masters Vrook and Vandar regarding you."

"Do you now?"

"Beginning playback. Error. File partially corrupted."

The next voices were unmistakable. Vrook, unsurprisingly, was in the middle of one of his many irritated rants, voice raised and gruffer than usual. "-today I caught her in a heated argument with my Padawan! Master Ell refuses to discipline her. I want to know what action you intend!"

Trista crossed her arms. "Sounds like a nice guy," Atton said.

"Vrook was always, uh, grumpy."

"Vrook, I respect your wisdom but it is not your concern."

"—whatever other Padawans see her — quick to emulate! Other students dislike her—"

"—Force strong in that line — with a unique strength — simply a natural leader."

"—disagree — mediocre Jedi — lust for power — will lead to — side. Furthermore, it—"

"He really didn't like you."

"It doesn't help that this might have been during the week he had Revan as a Padawan."

"Recording degraded. Ending playback. May I be of further assistance?"

"No, thank you, that's enough." The droid shuffled off, resuming his circular pacing. "Let's go talk to this administrator and see what she has for us."

Trista started toward the spaceport's exit, only slowing when Atton had to jog to catch up.

"You okay?" he asked as their feet reached grass.

"Fine. My 'caring about Vrook's opinion' ship left port a while ago."

"Heh. Not surprised. He contradicted himself too, you know." She glanced at him. "Everyone hated you but they copied you?"

Trista laughed, a bit ruefully. "Vrook always had more paranoia than sense."

Khoonda was a roundish, tall building that looked much the worse for wear — a defensible position, to be sure, if larger holes on the upper stories would get patched. It was also familiar, though this outpost type wasn't uncommon as housing on Dantooine's surface. She reached the main door and opened it, trying to force her thoughts away.

Directly across from the entrance was a clerk, who seemed just as interested in their appearance as the various civilians milling about. He was deep in conversation with a pair of women standing next to them, eying them.

"—all they've done, they wouldn't dare!" one of the women whispered as they approached.

"You know they would," her companion replied, voice just as low. "You remember them — so arrogant, so superior, never lending a hand when we needed it!"

The secretary nodded enthusiastically. "Remember the feud? They sent a bloody trainee to deal with it! It almost came to blows!"

"You know who that was, right? They sent out Revan, back when everyone thought she was dead."

"I hadn't heard that, you're sure?"

"Positive! I saw her myself over at the Enclave. I have children here, and they let the likes of her run around?"

The secretary shook his head. "I don't believe they'd come back."

"You should, my cousin said he saw one in Khoonda — and he used to work the Enclave gardens! He recognized him. One of Dantooine's council's masters, too, do you believe it? He could hide anywhere."

"Well, I hope it's true." The clerk straightened a pile of datapads. "I hear there's a bounty on 'em, and we could use the money—"

Trista stopped at the desk and cleared her throat delicately. "Sorry to interrupt."

The women retreated, and the clerk flushed. "I apologize. Hello, and welcome to Khoonda. You're a salvager, right?"

"Just a visitor." Trista smiled. "Though I'd like to see the Enclave again, which puts me in that category."

"Nothing there anymore, no point in going unless you're looking for credits."

"The gardens were always lovely. I've been away since the war, so I just want to see the damage for myself."

"Well, you must see Administrator Adare if you want to risk the ruins. She's right through these doors, and should be free. No other appointments." He motioned. "Straight through either of these halls, and the doors to the audience chamber are open right behind me."

"Thank you."

Trista nodded and headed through, into the next hall beyond. Handmaiden shook her head.

"Do these people truly believe they can best a Jedi?"

Atton shrugged. "I'd say they're upset — and desperate — enough to try. The Sith working the place over left a bad taste in people's mouths, even off Dantooine. I did a smuggling run back here a year ago and everyone was still pissed."

"Either way, we need to see if Vrook is here." Trista sighed. "Of course Vrook is the first Jedi I run into."

"He was on the droid's recording? And the record of your trial?"

Trista nodded. "Yes. So you've heard how much he cared for me."

"Should be a fun reunion."

"Tell me about it."

Atton motioned back toward the Hawk. "We could just leave, you know."

"And let the Sith win?" Trista sighed. "I'm more fond of the awkward reunion."

Atton grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Jedi" as she headed through the open audience chamber doors, stepping into a vaulted, columned hall with rows of chairs leading to an elevated dais and podium. Behind the podium, an ashen, gray-haired woman was deep in conversation with an older, gruff-looking man in heavy, blaster-scarred armor. As they approached the man left, and they were waved up onto the platform.

"Good afternoon," the woman said. "I am Administrator Adare. You own the, ah, ship that just landed?"

Trista glanced at Atton, then back, giving the Administrator her warmest, most winning smile. "Yes, is there a problem?"

Adare motioned then after her, into a small office off the chamber. Trista glanced at the other two and followed, and Adare closed the door behind them. "If I am not mistaken, that is the Ebon Hawk."

"Shit," Atton muttered.

Trista squared her shoulders. Oh, well, that was that. "It is."

"The Ebon Hawk frequented Dantooine during the war — as a Jedi vessel."

Trista tried to smile warmly. "I'd prefer if you didn't let that get around. Jedi don't seem to be liked here, or anywhere. And even if I'm not, I'd prefer no one mistakes me for one."

Adare returned the expression. "An unfortunate truth — and a wise request, which I will honor." She settled down behind her desk and motioned to one of the chairs, which Trista took. Atton leaned on the back of her chair and, with the office too small for much standing room, Handmaiden took the other. "Most settlers here hold bitter memories of the Sith occupation. I do not begrudge them that, but the old Masters helped Dantooine at no expense of our own. No matter how much we blame them for Dantooine's suffering, I cannot." She leaned back in her chair. "I maintain... discreet connections with certain Jedi. I assume your arrival here is no coincidence?"

She paused, glancing at Handmaiden before answering. "No, it isn't. I'm looking for a Master I heard was here."

Adare nodded. "Let's just say I have a friend — let's call him Vrook." Trista nodded, hesitantly. Vrook had friends? "We've known each other many years, and our continued friendship could create certain... problems... in the current political climate. May I ask why you're looking for him?"

"It's a... bit of a secret," she replied, then continued hurriedly, "I'm not going to hand him in for the bounty, though! Unless he acts like an asshole again — then I might consider it."

Atton snickered, and Adare raised a brow. "And yet you are not surprised to find him here."

"I'd heard a rumor he was here."

"How?"

"I—" She glanced back at Atton, who shrugged. "I used to be a Jedi here. 'Used to' being the operative phrase. I... left the entire Order after the Mandalorian Wars."

"Oh." She straightened again. "Did he send for you if something went wrong?"

"N—" Trista narrowed her eyes. "Did something go wrong?"

"He was looking into something important recently and went missing. He had to go into the Enclave sublevel and has yet to return. I know the sublevel is dangerous, but I believed he could handle it."

"Vrook was always powerful in the Force," Trista said with a nod. "I can't imagine anything on Dantooine would best him."

"I agree, but he has not returned, and it's been..." Adare checked her calendar. "Two days, I believe."

"I have to find him, so." She looked at the others. "I guess we have to go to the sublevel."

"Thank you," Adare said gratefully. "Be careful — it will be dangerous, as anything involving Jedi is. I will have the militia transmit permissions to the Enclave's security door."

"Thank you." Trista stood. "We'll head out today, or early tomorrow."

Adare nodded and walked them back to the audience chamber, where they parted ways. They grouped together at the rear as another group of people walked by, all likely settlers with some dispute to settle — judging by the clothing and sour expressions.

"Why don't we go anywhere nice?" Atton asked. Trista frowned.

"Because the Force hates anything 'easy.'" She sighed. "The problems people have with Jedi will make this hard. Since we're headed out anyway, let's ask around about any jobs we can pick up. Fueling and supplying on Mirial hit our credits hard."

Atton chuckled. "I'm not gonna argue with that."

#

She waved Bao-Dur after them as they passed, and they regrouped in the Hawk's main hold.

"Vrook was here," Trista said, "but he headed into the Enclave's sublevel. It's supposedly dangerous. Unsurprisingly, that's where we're headed."

"Of course," Bao-Dur said. "Atton, are you all right?"

Trista glanced over, watching as Atton took a slight step closer to her and snarled, "Fine."

"Right, uh, so that leaves us with the question. It's mid-afternoon, local. We can either get there, and risk spending the night in the Enclave or right outside it. Or, we leave first thing in the morning."

After a moment of silence, Handmaiden spoke. "Are you not worried about Master Vrook's wellbeing?"

Trista looked at her, then looked at the ceiling. Ha, fat chance.

"First, not really. It's been three days. If he's already dead, our immediate intervention will not change that. My assumption is that he's fist-deep in whatever archives are left, and just forgot to tell Adare he was still alive. Second, to quote a... former friend's published opinion on Cassus Fett, 'I don't want him dead, but I'd love to read his obituary tomorrow.'"

Handmaiden frowned, but nodded. "Understood."

"Obviously, my inclination is for tomorrow," she continued. "Thoughts?"

After a few shrugs of agreement and general acquiescence, Trista nodded. "Great. We'll take stock of our supplies, work on the ship a bit, leave instructions with T3 for repairs, and head out in the morning." She turned and started back toward the ramp with a sigh. "Thank the Force. I'm not ready for this."