A false name
- Jen Sahara / Ness Jonohl -
Safe. I was safe, and warm, and blissfully content; feelings that seemed foreign for some reason. My mind was at ease, enjoying the touch of warm skin and the scent of warm male. I don't want to move.
I heard the rumble of a chuckle underneath my ear, and I cracked open an eye to view Carth gazing at me in amusement. He was propped up against the side of the bed in the pilot's quarters, his fingers entangled in my hair. I'd fallen asleep curled up on his chest, my face pressed against his skin.
"You remind me of a loth-kitten I had, once," he murmured. "Every night, she'd go to sleep on top of me. Used to annoy the heck out of Morga-" he cut himself off as a distant look passed through his brown eyes.
Way to wreck the mood, flyboy, I thought, disgruntled. I shifted to the side, sat up, and touched his cheek lightly. He needed a shave. "You don't have to stop yourself speaking about her, Carth," I said. "As enjoyable as this is, it's hardly going to replace what you once had."
His eyes snapped back to mine, and I saw I'd pissed him off. "Very fatalistic, Jen. Do you always start relationships on such a happy tone?"
Relationships? I blinked. What the frell? "Uh, we're having a good time, right? Let's leave it light, okay?"
He didn't answer, but I could spot the mounting frustration in his gaze. I sighed.
"Look," I said, leaning away from him against the durasteel grated wall. "My mind's a shot mess. Honestly, you have no frelling clue just how messed up I am. I can't- I simply can't go into anything heavy."
The thought had occurred to me, before this had started, how terribly paranoid Carth's reaction would be if he ever found out I had the voice of Darth Revan in my head. Now that we were engaged in whatever this was, it went beyond the realm of appalling and straight into the territory of completely frelled up.
I'm a selfish idiot. I shouldn't be involved with him.
"I know," he said quietly. "Bastila and I- talked. I know you were a Jedi once, Jen, but you've blocked out chunks of your life to cope after… after what happened on Deralia. I've learned a lot about the Force and the Dark Side since the Endar Spire. Watching you, and Juhani, and all that happened on Korriban… everything I thought about the Jedi before was wrong. Even if you lot are too damn secretive." He moved out from underneath, turning to lean over me with a half-smile on his face. He laid his hands flat against the wall, on either side of my head, his body warm against mine.
And damn if I didn't feel the insidious curl of desire start up again.
"No one's infallible, Jen," he murmured. "But whatever scared you on Rii'shn – and you've got to explain that to me some time soon – you've been doing everything right since then. You have no idea how impressive you are." His eyes dropped further down; I'd fallen asleep naked, and the blankets had long since slipped off. "Very impressive. Especially when you've bothered to shower," he ended on a teasing note, and then leaned forward to capture my lips again.
This will never work. I kicked the guilty thought away, and my hand snaked behind his head as I kissed him back.
The chronometer dinged, an incessant and highly irritating noise that had us breaking apart. He'd set it hours earlier as an alarm for the upcoming hyperspace exit. Carth pulled back from me a little, his eyes black with desire.
Darth Revan's in my head. How is this fair to him?
"Carth-"
"Jen," he cut in. I had the feeling my doubts were showing on my face. "I'm not asking you for anything you're not willing to give. Just- don't close your mind to anything, okay? We're almost at Kashyyyk. When we land, we might find the Jedi already have all the Star Maps, and have a plan for facing Malak and rescuing Bastila. Our mission might be over. We might actually have some time to explore… whatever this is between us. And I'd like to do that."
I could feel my cheeks burning again as his gaze held mine with an intensity I was unused to. Stars, I think I've blushed more in the last week than my entire frelling life. But if he was right… maybe he was right. Maybe we would have a reprieve from everything.
And maybe… maybe he was a damn good option.
I felt my lips curving despite myself, and an unfamiliar feeling of happy curling in my stomach. "Okay," I said softly, and then laughed. "Honestly, Carth, you've got to be a complete borkhead to take me on."
He chuckled, and leaned over to kiss me softly on the lips. I shivered. "Leave that to me, beautiful."
I stared at the door long after he'd vacated. It'd been three nights; three secret nights of guilty pleasure, that made me feel young and carefree and normal. We'd spoken less than he'd planned, I suspected, but I was more interested in physical gratification than verbal repartee.
And I wasn't exactly keen on opening up to him. He'd mentioned Rii'shn twice already, curiosity evident in his voice. He wanted to understand what had changed, what had made me come back. I'd told him on Manaan that I'd stopped running – and while that was true, it was also simplistic.
Despite myself, my smile slowly slipped away as the uneasiness returned.
He'd spoken to Bastila about me. Well, this is Carth. No doubt he'd been grilling her for answers about my unpredictable behaviour since Taris. And she told him I'd been a Jedi Knight? But he still knew me as Jen Sahara, the scholar who'd been tortured to death by Darth Revan. Bastila had let slip only half-truths to him, it seemed.
I had to be realistic. It'd been a lovely reprieve, these last couple of days – but that's all it was. Carth might understand part of my history, but he didn't realize that the Jedi with the broken mind was someone completely separate to Jen Sahara – and that wasn't even the worst of my secrets.
I didn't know what had happened to me, to Ness Jonohl. But I'd find out on Kashyyyk.
And then, maybe, find out if there's any chance for any of… this.
But there couldn't be, not really, not with Darth Revan in my head. I knew that. I'd known all along, which is why I'd avoided him for most of the hyperspace journey… but I'm also selfish, which is why I'd caved in the end.
I sighed irritably, and swung myself out of bed. Okay, I'm not going to beat myself up over having a little bit of fun for once. Sun and stars, second-guessing things is not my sodding style. It didn't take long, to throw some clothes on and leave the room. I found myself wandering to the cockpit automatically, but Dustil was sitting in the co-pilot's chair, looking awkward and ill-at-ease and yet taking the time to voluntarily sit with his father.
I smiled slightly as they both turned to look at me.
"You got this?" I asked Carth. He nodded, throwing me a heated look that spoke of last night's entertainment. I left them both and wandered back to the common room. Carth could land the Ebon Hawk without a co-pilot, and I was intensely aware of his need for more father-son bonding time.
I didn't like the thought that what we were doing might be cutting into that. But it'd only been a couple of days, and only at the end of the day's routine I'd imposed on the crew – waiting until everyone was asleep before sneaking around like a damn teenager.
We hadn't really spoken about it, but discretion was important. Dustil was only marginally less sullen than when we'd left Korriban, and who knew how he'd react to his father sleeping with someone who wasn't his mother. He still blames Carth for Telos, in part.
I sighed, and pushed all Onasi related thoughts from my head. We were almost at Kashyyyk. I needed to concentrate on what was coming up.
I found myself drifting off into my own thoughts, absently taking a seat next to Mission who appeared to be wheedling Dak into a game of pazaak. His one hand held the cards, frowning at them in concentration that bordered on derisiveness. I had the distinct feeling his opinion of the game equalled mine.
Juhani sent me a small smile of welcome from the other side of the common room. I returned it, before leaning back to close my eyes. The conversation buzzed around me, melding in with the hum of the ship's hyperdrive.
Soon, I'd be meeting Master Vrook Lamar. I'd been running from this for so long. The fear of the Jedi repeating whatever they'd done to me had never ceased, not really. But the need for answers had grown - had become necessary - ever since Rii'shn. I'd taken too long to draw them out of Bastila, and now she was gone. Now my only option, it seemed, was the Jedi Master she'd been herding me toward since Taris.
Vaguely, I heard Carth broadcast a hyperspace exit transmission through the ship, and slipped myself into one of the safety belts attached to the tatty plimfoam benches, before my thoughts once more derailed.
What did I know about myself, really? I was a Jedi, a Jedi Knight. I fought in the Mandalorian Wars, but Bastila told me I'd never fallen to the Dark Side. I knew something of the Star Maps. The Star Maps. That was the key, the key to Darth Malak's power.
The key to Darth Revan's power, once. I frowned. Is Revan in my head because I'd failed to find the Maps on my own before? Ness had seen the Tatooine one, sure – but that was the only one I was certain of. She'd – I'd – been on the trail of the Korriban one, but had we actually found it? Or had the terentateks scared us away?
Us. For it hadn't been just me. I suspected my past lover had died, somehow. He must have died. And yet, he'd been an integral part of those flashbacks. Without him, had it all fallen apart?
My mind, once more, was going around in meaningless circles. This was why I'd stopped running. This was why I was headed to a Jedi Master. Because I couldn't make sense of anything on my own.
As the freighter shot out of hyperspace, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and focussed on willing the uneasiness away.
xXx
We docked at a Czerka starport, most of us crowded into the common room as Carth organized landing permission and coordinates on Zaalbar's home planet.
It seemed to take forever.
Juhani was murmuring quietly to Dak, and Kel sat awkwardly on his other side. Canderous was next to me, making an occasional comment that didn't register. I wasn't used to feeling nervous. I detested this feeling, this uneasy edginess that sat like sharp ferracrystal jabbing the insides of my belly.
I had allies with me. I had nothing to fear, surely. Juhani – a powerful Force user in her own right - would not sit back while something happened to me.
Why had I not confided in Juhani? I realized, with a start, that I could have. My mind and its fragilities was not something I spoke of – ever- even on the few times Carth had hassled me for details. I'd only ever cornered Bastila. But Juhani's loyalty to me was there, and resolute – why had it never even occurred to me to just talk to her?
Because she'd think I'm crazy. Because I don't know what's going on, not really. Because I can't let anyone know about Darth Revan.
I sighed, banging my head back against the durasteel bulkhead in irritation.
"Jen," Juhani said, across from me. Her slanted eyes gleamed with emotion. "Are you alright?"
"Peachy," I muttered. I caught her gaze, and smiled tightly. "I'll do, Juhani. I'll do."
"Jen," Canderous interrupted in his gravelly voice. "I've got quite the shopping list. You know those Republic credits ain't gonna last much longer?"
"Priorities are kolto and parts for HK," I answered. We'd decided, earlier, for the Mandalorian to focus on restocking the ship, while Mission and Zaalbar stayed behind. I would have sent the young Twi'lek with Canderous – expecting her to sneak out otherwise – but Mission claimed she wanted to stay behind with Zaalbar. He'd likely be just as uneasy and on edge as me – worse, in a way, as he had to spend the entire stay on Kashyyyk in the freighter.
The rest of us would find this Master Vrook Lamar.
I didn't expect Kel to be with us for much longer. The quiet teenager didn't talk often, but his eyes shone with hope whenever we spoke of the Jedi.
Dak, despite his earlier protestations, was following the same path. I could see the fierce emotion on his face, at times, when he looked at Juhani and thought her unaware – but he also seemed reconciled that a return to the Order was his future. Dak Vessar had surprised me. I wondered what he'd make of his second chance.
And as for Dustil… well, he hadn't said. Carth expected him to follow Dak and Kel, but that would likely mean a separation from us all. I wondered how Carth would handle that. It's not like he'd ever been a shining advocate of the Jedi.
It's just another thing we have to sort out on this planet.
"We're free to disembark now," Carth said quietly as he entered the room. The background buzz of conversation halted, and all eyes turned to me. I smiled tightly, unclasped the safety harness around my waist, and stood.
"Let's go."
The first thing I noticed as the exit hatch opened was the humidity. There was a distinct moisture noticeable in the air, which was also warm– not hot like Tatooine – but I still felt overdressed in the plain tunic I'd pilfered from the cargo bay's stores. I'd eschewed armour for the first time. It didn't seem necessary. If this Jedi Master was truly a threat – and I was probably the only one who thought so – then armour wasn't going to help.
The seemingly infinite expanse of greenery struck me next. It bordered everything, a striking contrast to the permacrete grey of the landing pad. In the distance, in every horizontal direction, leafy vegetation merged into haziness that could be hiding anything.
Above us, the dense foliage had been cleared in a man-made circular channel to allow for air traffic. Even this high up, we couldn't see the tree-tops. Walls of wroshyr greenery rose majestically into the blue sky high above us. Clearing it would have been a massive project, and I guessed the maintenance had to be a killer.
The docking bay itself was a large foundation cinched between two massive wroshyr trees by titanium alloy cables thicker than my waist. There was some sort of large ratchet device around the trees; I imagined that as the tree grew, the mechanism could be adjusted to ensure rock solid immovability of the landing pad.
More guide ropes rose vertically to higher branches, connected in a similar way. The entire construction bespoke a long-term design; surely, with how steady the ferracrete foundation currently was, it wouldn't need any sort of adjustment for years.
Czerka is here to stay.
There was a control tower at the end of our docking bay, built alongside one of the giant wroshyrs. It was large enough that even the tree – whose diameter had to be tens of metres – didn't entirely dwarf it. The tower rose only a few stories higher than our level, but it also descended below view. I wondered how low into Kashyyyk's depths it had been built.
A wide set of stairs leading downwards heralded the only obvious exit, other than going into the control tower which was guarded by a handful of armoured Czerka-clad sentients.
"I had not thought trees this size were possible," Juhani murmured, as she stepped to my side.
My gaze slid back to the wroshyrs. They were, supposedly, more than a kilometre in height. The base of them must be truly awe-inspiring in girth. Even here, close to the sky, Kashyyyk had a way of making one feel truly infinitesimal in size. A bit like space, really.
"Huh. Big trees," Dak commented in a neutral voice. He sounded a lot less impressed than either Juhani or I. "Shall we get a move on?"
I rolled my eyes, but gave a short nod, attention snapping back to the inhabitants of the starport. There were more landing pads, coiling around the tower in a ring of civilized permacrete that looked jarringly out of place on this wild world. Deep into the green haze, I could make out another identical control tower nearby, which likely had a similar setup of encircling landing pads.
This wasn't a small starport. It explained the number of visible Czerka staff, milling around the edges of the tower. Most of them held blaster rifles and were equipped with moderate body-armour – which shouted a perceived danger or perhaps an elevated caution that I'd not noticed in previous starports.
And standing near the set of stairs, I noticed a brown-robed figure.
I took a deep breath, and began to walk.
Juhani fell into step next to me, and I saw an encouraging smile in my periphery. Dak and Kel were on her other side, and then running footsteps had me slowing. I glanced over my shoulder to see Carth.
"I asked Ordo to finish docking the ship," he said, a little breathlessly, and his gaze slid to Dustil who was dragging his feet behind us. I wasn't sure if Carth was there for me or his son, but shot him a brief smile of acknowledgement. Canderous would be fine handling the paperwork. Carth would have already sorted out landing clearance and transferred docking payment before we landed, but the bureaucracy that went with docking a ship escalated exponentially with the size of the starport. This port was likely on a par with Ahto City.
I looked forward again, and resumed walking. The Jedi Master, Vrook Lamar, stood awaiting us, hands clasped casually in front of him. Bastila's Master. This wasn't going to be pretty. Carth had transmitted the Star Map coordinates from Korriban but little else – in space, it was all too easy for communications to be intercepted. I did not think this Jedi Master would know the news of Bastila's capture yet.
Vrook Lamar looked calm - peaceful even - as we neared. There was a serene expression on his face that became apparent with every step. It was hard to guess his age, but his face was lined and his dark eyes fixed solely on me as I led our group forward.
The hairs on my exposed forearms lifted, and a shiver coursed through me as the metres closed in. The sharp edginess was still there, now matched with a mild vertigo I recognized all too well. I picked up on a sign of uneasiness from the Master, too, as his red headtails tightened around his neck - and then my vision dimmed in a rush and I was swept away.
…
"I have often hypothesized the Force to be a living entity in its own right," a robed Twi'lek said thoughtfully, as his dark purple eyes trained on me. "And if so, you are surely one of its favourites. I have never known a Force-sensitive with such immeasurable good luck."
"Yeah, it was a bit like that on Talshion too," the young man standing behind him muttered. His face wore a thunderous scowl. "I can't believe you did that. I can't believe you're still alive!"
I shifted uncomfortably. Zhar didn't concern me, but I was very aware of just how much trouble I was in with the most important person in my life. "Look, the governor's agreed to meet the Republic delegate and discuss entry requirements. Can't we just focus on that for now?"
Master Zhar sighed heavily; he was a mild-mannered Master, but I knew that sometimes he was driven to distraction when he took the two of us on training missions. This one, in particular, had snowballed ridiculously. Still, I'd seen an opportunity and it was working out for the best – for us, and the Republic.
"Jedi do not involve themselves in politics, Padawan," Zhar rebuked. "No matter how important the situation may seem. We are mediators only, not politicians. We leave the matters of men to the governments of the time. And now Governor James is expecting Jedi Knight- what name did you give them?"
"Ness Jonohl," I muttered.
"Ness Jonohl," a voice said in disbelief.
The night was warm on the grassy plain, and the two men were staring at me outside the tent that was our temporary campsite.
The red-skinned Twi'lek was frowning, muttering something about luck under his breath before giving an audible sigh. "Well, I do not see another solution but to ride this one out. They are expecting Knight-" his mouth twisted, "Ness Jonohl to attend the delegation, so you shall go and I will accompany you as an advisory Master. We'll be staying out of the negotiations as much as possible."
No we won't, I thought in determination. Andara will become part of the Republic if I have anything to say about it.
…
My steps froze, and I stared at the brown-robed Twi'lek in shock. Carth turned to frown at me in confusion.
"Are you alright, Jen?" he asked softly, stepping back to my side. He placed a steady hand on my shoulder.
A false name, I thought numbly. Ness Jonohl is a false name. There was a hollow in the pit of my belly, and an acrid taste in my mouth. Disappointment reared through my psyche – and it was all the more bitter because I recognized something galling: I am not surprised. Somehow, deep down, some part of me had always known. Ness Jonohl had never quite fit, never quite felt right.
I'm back to two out of three names.
"Jen?" Carth prompted again, and I realized I was still staring at the red-skinned Twi'lek Master who was now moving toward us slowly. His face was a composed mask.
"Yeah, I'm okay," I whispered, looking over to Carth with a shaky smile. The concern was all too evident in his eyes.
"What's wrong? Are you- we can go back in the 'Hawk if you need to, Jen." Carth frowned. "This meeting can wait."
I glanced back to the Jedi Master, who was less than ten metres away, now. Carth's support was nice, but I didn't believe this Jedi would allow me to walk away, and there wasn't any real point in it, either. He knew my real name. He knew my origins. It was long past time to find them out myself.
I could feel the wariness of the others behind me, and pasted a smile on my face. "It's fine, Carth. I just – I've met this guy before. Just felt a bit off-balance, that's all." I touched his hand briefly, and then stepped forward to meet the Twi'lek.
"Welcome to Kashyyyk, Jen Sahara," the Twi'lek said in fluent Basic. What was his name? I'd heard it in the fragmented memory, but already it eluded my grasp. His dark purple eyes moved past me to view my companions. They widened, slightly, in a startlement that was likely unusual for a Jedi Master. I bit back a smirk, realizing that an extra three Sithkids would hardly have been anticipated by the Order.
"Thanks," I told him shortly. "You're not Vrook Lamar. I was of the understanding that he was the one we were going to meet."
The Twi'lek inclined his head, another flicker of surprise betraying in his indigo gaze. "I am Jedi Master Zhar Lestin. Master Vrook and Master Quatra await us in the Wookiee village of Rwookrrorro."
Zhar. Zhar Lestin. The name was strongly familiar. It seemed to echo in my head. Hang on. Did he say Quatra?
Juhani gasped audibly and stepped forward. Dak moved to flank her. "Quatra," she mumbled softly. "I did not… well. I did not expect that."
"You don't have to come, Juhani." I said, turning to face her head on.
"Yes, I do," she countered in a tone that was both soft and firm. A sad smile played along her lips, and she gazed at me fondly. "It will be alright, Jen. I must face Master Quatra one day, and I would rather meet this challenge now."
Zhar cleared his throat. "Do not see it as a challenge, Padawan. Your Master has been most grieved for you."
"She is no longer my master, Master Zhar." The words were solid and resolute, and not at all bitter. Juhani sounded more calm and sure of herself than ever. "And while I thank you for the title of Padawan, perhaps that is a bit premature at this stage."
I snorted. "I don't know anyone who walks in the Light more strongly than you, Juhani. If you're not worthy of the Jedi, then the galaxy makes no frelling sense."
"Perhaps this conversation can be concluded once we have moved to Rwookrrorro," Zhar intervened. He was frowning, looking past us to the Ebon Hawk. "Where is Bastila Shan? I do not sense her nearby."
It was difficult to reply, and the heavy pause caused his gaze to meet mine again. Understanding was followed swiftly by grief and despair. "Oh no," he whispered.
"She was captured on Korriban by Kylah Aramai."
"Kylah Aramai," he said blankly. His dark purple eyes blinked once, twice. "Jedi Knight Kylah Aramai?"
"I think you might have to change her title," I remarked somewhat tartly. "Surely you've heard who led the Dark Jedi attack in Ahto City?"
Zhar shook his head briefly. "Oh, Vrook," he murmured softly, and I wondered what this Vrook Lamar was like, to have mentored someone like Bastila Shan. It was hard to get past her aloofness and prissiness, but we'd been getting there. She'd been becoming a friend. I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes, and gritted my teeth.
"We have to get her back," I muttered. "She's got a neural disruptor on, but she's skivvied her way out of one before on Taris when those Vulkar idiots forgot to restrain her hands. Either way, I'll know the instant it's loose."
Zhar had composed himself, and his attention was once more fixed on me. It briefly darted to Carth, who was standing closer than necessary on my other side. I stiffened, and remembered Bastila's reaction when she'd suspected something – before I had even understood my own desires – and my eyes narrowed as they remained on the affable Jedi Master.
"Are you entirely sure it was Kylah Aramai?" Zhar asked quietly. "Our intelligence tells us she died onboard the Endar Spire."
The indignation flared in my belly. "Let me," Carth murmured. I rolled my eyes, and conceded the conversation over to him. He shot me a wry half-grin before facing Zhar. "I am Captain Carth Onasi, Master Jedi, and I met Kylah Aramai enough times on the Endar Spire to recognize her when she led the assault on the Republic Embassy in Ahto City. My report to my superiors have mentioned her involvement, so I'm surprised you haven't heard about it."
Zhar frowned. "The information sharing between the Order and the Republic has waned in recent weeks, Captain. However, this is dire news indeed. This is not something we foresaw."
I bit back a snort, barely. Seemed like there was a lot of things the Jedi failed to foresee. "I met Kylah on the 'Spire, too," I said flatly. "I recognized her on Manaan, before she ran. I saw the effects of her handiwork."
There was a flicker of some emotion on the composed Twi'lek's face – I saw it, before it disappeared. I wonder if he had known Karon… he must have known Karon. Karon… who had been my Master. Zhar was still staring steadily at me, as if taking my measure.
"Anyway," I continued, "Kylah happened to be on Korriban when we landed. She snuck in and stole Bastila while we were out hunting the Star Map. We…" I trailed off, squeezing my eyes shut. There was still that blank space in my head, like a sense that had been cut off. An invisible wall between us that I could not breach.
She was still alive, though. I'd feel her death. Considering how intertwined our connections were to the Force, I had the unnerving feeling that her death would be debilitating.
And then… something changed. The wall blurred… morphed into a hazy fog that was clouded with distance.
Bastila? There was no response. The barrier- no, the barrier was still there, but it felt different, somehow. Less perfect, maybe less impenetrable. I pushed out, tentative at first. Bastila?
"Let us all retire to Rwookrrorro," Zhar said again, his voice gentling. "This is not a safe place for conversation."
"There is one thing first," Juhani spoke up, her voice low and intense. "We have a casualty on board. I could not leave her body on Korriban, and would like to bury her on Kashyyyk." Dak reached out to grasp her hand, a solemn look of support on his face. "Jedi Knight Belaya Linn."
There was a slight noise as Zhar took in an unexpected intake of air. His eyes widened again as he surveyed Juhani. She returned his gaze without flinching. "Belaya Linn," he murmured. "I am grieved, indeed, to hear of this." His gaze slid to Dak. "If you wish to bring her body now to Rwookrrorro, then we shall find a way down to the Shadowlands. It is not how the Wookiees recognize death, but I am sure we can accommodate something. Please, let us depart this Czerka establishment and move to a more secure location."
xXx
Zhar led us out of the starport efficiently, and onto vast wooden ramps that spanned between the gigantic trees. The foliage was thicker, here, with the odd spindly branch growing crookedly over the path. Gnats and flies buzzed around us, and the caw of some avian species was prevalent in our hearing.
Beneath the ramp, the depths of Kashyyyk dimmed to a murky blackness. It was a giant, over-sized world, and I'd probably have remained somewhat awed if I wasn't otherwise occupied.
Bastila? Was I imagining things? Surely, if the neural disruptor had been removed, she'd answer me. But the barrier between us no longer had the clinical, absolute edges that sliced through one's connection to the Force. It felt, instead, like a clouded shield was blocking me from reaching her.
Zhar was silent as we walked along. The others spoke softly behind us, but my mind was solely occupied by my bond sister. Beyond the starport were small Czerka stalls and wicker buildings lashed against the side of the massive trunks. Zhar skirted away from all of these, and our path was relatively quiet. There was a mild wind rustling through the trees, bringing with it a wild astringent smell that might have been the sap of the wroshyrs.
"It is not far to Rwookrrorro," Zhar said quietly from my side. I shot him a tight smile, and wondered what he was thinking. The serenity of his expression gave nothing away. "The Wookiees have rented out rooms to us on the edge of their township, provided we do not stray into Rwookrrorro. They do not trust outsiders, so I urge you to advise your companions accordingly."
"Fair enough," I acknowledged. "Crossing a Wookiee isn't a good idea at the best of times."
"I understand one of your crew is a Wookiee, Jen Sahara. I am surprised he is not accompanying you." It was a question, a gentle inquiry for information, and I immediately stiffened in mistrust.
"He's happy on the ship," I said shortly. I wasn't planning on giving Zaalbar's past away, but surely the names of our crew pre-Korriban had filtered through to the Jedi. Surely Zhar Lestin or Vrook Lamar would have looked up the name Zaalbar in Rwookrrorro.
Wookiees do not speak of madclaws.
It was a whisper from the back of my mind, from the voice of Ness. No, from the voice of Street Kid. I gritted my teeth, and looked away.
Carth had increased his pace to catch up with me, shooting me a supporting smile. "I knew the trees were big here, but this was beyond my expectations," he murmured. "Dustil's pretty awed."
"Yeah," I agreed. The ramp ahead split into three directions, and Zhar took the smaller one leading off to the left. We lapsed into an uneasy silence, and I had the uncanny feeling that Carth was searching for something encouraging to say. I remained quiet, frowning, once more reaching out into the obscurity of the Force bond that connected me to Bastila. Something had changed. I was becoming certain of it.
A fence made of lashed wooden poles came into view around a bend, and further past that I saw a massive Wookiee-made wall that ran between multiple wroshyr trees. Small wooden towers oversaw the obstruction in numerous places, and Wookiees manning them were visible with bowcasters or blaster rifles in hand. The howls of Shyriiwook were noticeable as we strode closer - the background noise of a decent sized village.
One-room buildings were present along the edges of the township, beyond the smaller gate but on our side of the massive wall that seemed to mark Rwookrrorro's territory. They were for visitors, then, or outsiders – those not trusted to enter the encampment proper.
Zhar turned to address the group. "I have a room in the outer reaches of Rwookrrorro where I shall take you all, before I go to retrieve Master Quatra and Master Vrook. Do not leave this area without one of us. The Wookiees are not known for their patience."
There was a spark of fear, sharp and sudden through the bond, taking me by surprise. I flinched. Bastila! I demanded. Stars, Bastila, can you hear me?
She had to hear that. She was there, I could almost feel her. Why wasn't she answering?
Zhar walked forward to address a Wookiee that was guarding the entrance into the lesser defended barricade on the edge of the township.
"Dustil!" Carth cried out suddenly. "Where is he?"
As his words registered, I spun around, my gaze searching our group as I flung the Force wildly to sense my surroundings. There was no dead patch anywhere nearby. Kath crap! Where the frell has he gone?
And then, stabbing through the bond, came another wave of acrid, uncontrolled fear.
"I can't sense him," I muttered to Carth, my thoughts reeling and torn in two directions. "He's not here."
Carth closed his eyes, looking both anxious and exasperated. "He's gone back to the ship," he said quietly. "We spoke of the Jedi last night – he didn't-" Carth sighed. "He's not very happy with the idea of the Order, but I thought he'd agreed. Now, I'm thinking he was just trying to stop the conversation."
I smiled tightly, but my concentration had moved inward. The bond had turned silent; the desperate emotions had abruptly ceased. Bastila is trying to control herself, I guessed. She's trying not to draw my attention. Why the frell was she ignoring me? "Go," I said softly. "Find your son. I'll be fine."
Carth's expression tightened as his gaze locked on mine. His chestnut brown hair was falling into his eyes again. I tapped the Ebon Hawk's communicator affixed on my wrist, and he glanced down before the side of his mouth curved in a half-smile.
"I'll be in touch," he murmured. "Stay safe, Jen."
I shot him an absent smile, but my mind was still on the bond. Better that Carth focus on his son before he learn about any developments on the Bastila front. "Don't annoy any Wookiees," I returned.
He looked like he wished to say more, but I gave him a brief nod of farewell before turning to the others. I heard his steps fade away behind us, and turned as Juhani touched me gently on the shoulder.
"I was not paying attention to Dustil," Juhani said. She looked mildly abashed. "I did not see him leave."
"Don't feel bad. He's an ace at sneaking around," I said, aware my voice was short. In a snap decision, I lunged mentally, attempting to force my very psyche through the bond. Bastila had done that, had ridden with me in my own mind more than once on Korriban. But my concentration frayed and dissolved as it barrelled through the hazy esoteric nature of our bond. Bit by bit, my focus was chipped away until I was swung back into my own mind.
My muscles were tensing, my fists clenching.
"Jen?" Juhani prompted, her slanted eyes narrowing.
"It's Bastila," I muttered. Her eyes widened. "Something's changed, dammit, and I don't know what. Let's get to this place of Zhar's, first, and I'll explain more." I swung back around to stride after Zhar, who was murmuring something to a Wookiee even taller than Zaalbar.
"(Your people may not leave your designated outbuilding,)" the Wookiee growled. "(And Chuundar, long may he reign, shall be informed of their names and backgrounds at once.)"
Chuundar? That wasn't the name I was expecting. A surge of panic snatched my attention once more, burgeoning in strength. Dammit, Bastila, answer me!
"Of course," Zhar was murmuring as I neared. "I will escort them there right away."
Terror slammed into my head, then, uncontrolled and overwhelming.
And the agony that followed encompassed everything else.
xXx
