Secrets and small talk

- Jen Sahara -


The Twi'lek master didn't speak to Juhani long; a minute, maybe, before he quietly let himself back in, while staring at me with that measuring, intent look on his damned familiar face.

I'd known him well, once. The fleeting recollection that had sparked to life when I'd disembarked the 'Hawk suggested a strong acquaintance – one, I believed, that transcended a standard relationship between a padawan and a master who was not their own.

I'd gone on training missions with him, and there'd been an easy camaraderie between us – between us and the other man who'd been, I was beginning to think, central to my previous life.

Zhar could tell me about him, I realized in sudden surprise. I glanced at the Jedi sideways; the specifics of the memory had faded, but I was left with the strong belief that I'd trusted Zhar. I certainly hadn't felt threatened by him – not then.

And I wanted to know what Juhani said to him. It's probably about Belaya or Quatra. It might have nothing to do with me. But I'd been wading in secrets for months and, now that I felt like I was getting close to answers, I was torn between shaking them out of people or turning tail once again.

More than anything, I was deeply uneasy.

And then there was Bastila. Unconscious, likely having passed out from pain – which meant that she probably would be revived soon. And Zhar wanted me to hide behind a shield, away from her.

Bond-mates with that level of intimacy do not always survive each other's death.

Could that be true? Surely Bastila would have stayed out of my head, if that was the case. But it would have meant my certain death, against Jorak. And certain exposure, against Uthar. Maybe she'd felt like she didn't have a choice – but then, she would have said something to me about the dangers, wouldn't she?

Unless she didn't know? But Bastila Shan was supposed to be an expert in the matters of psychic Force powers. And yet… and yet, she was also just a padawan. And everyone keeps saying mind-links are unusual – ones the strength of ours even more so. Maybe the knowledge and understanding of them is just as unknown?

I sighed irritably at my own thoughts. I'd talk to her once she came to, at the least. I needed answers. And if there was something I could do-

"Jen," Zhar interrupted my thoughts, his voice soft and calm. "We need to head down to the Shadowlands."

I blinked. "The Shadowlands," I echoed in disbelief. I could feel my eyebrows rise. "Is this before or after we dance a jerryjig with the Wookiee chieftain?"

Zhar seemed remarkably unruffled by my sass. A benign smile sat on his faded red face. "We have not yet found the final Star Map, Jen Sahara. With Bastila's capture, your presence on Korriban will already be known. It will not be long before Darth Malak moves against Kashyyyk."

I felt the air hiss out of my lungs in disappointment. "You don't have the Map?" I groaned, closing my eyes. "Stars, we'd been counting on that. Do you have any leads?"

"The Shadowlands," he repeated. "Vrook sensed a Force-user down there, someone we believe is an old friend of mine. He may be able to help."

I felt the corners of my mouth turn down. Everything kept coming back to these damn Maps and whatever they led to. But the Shadowlands weren't the sort of place to go to unprepared, or with the wrong people.

"Canderous," I muttered to myself. "HK, if he's fixed. Maybe Carth. Definitely Juhani." I looked back to Zhar, who was now frowning. "We can be ready to go first thing tomorrow."

"We must go now, Jen Sahara. You and I alone."

The edginess was back, stabbing me with uncertainty, and I drew on the Force in reaction. I could feel Zhar's aura, calm and peaceful and yet he wanted to drag me – just me – out into the wilderness. Maybe I'd trusted him once, but I wasn't sure if I should now.

Zhar stared at me unblinkingly.

"What about the other masters?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave or two.

He hesitated, and I knew he was measuring his words carefully. I felt the mistrust grow, and clenched my teeth. Dammit. All I knew about this particular master was the tatty remnants of a faded memory.

Master Vrook – somewhere nearby on this planet – was Bastila's master. Would he be more trustworthy? Would he be safer? Why wasn't he here, demanding details of Bastila?

And that led me straight back to thoughts of my bond-sister again.

Bastila had been blocking me earlier. I was sure of it now. Once the agony had engulfed her, she'd lost control and it'd slammed through our open bond like a tidal wave. Zhar had shielded me and shown me how to replicate it – but I was not confident how well it would work.

I needed to talk to her. About so many things.

"There is much I wish to speak of, Jen Sahara. And not all of us are in agreement about the best way forward."

My muscles clenched as the words registered. I could feel my face heat with a blend of anger and fear. He means that some of them might want to… to…

I would not be Jen Sahara again. Not for anything. But if they feared that Darth Revan would once more take over my mind, then maybe they felt the end justified the means. What's a little mind-raping when balanced with the galactic devastation she has caused?

Not much. Unless it was your mind.

"And how do I know I can I trust you?" I bit out.

Zhar did not break my gaze. "I mean you no harm, Jen Sahara. I only wish to tell you the truth. The whole truth. And that is a subject best approached away from any possible interruptions." Through the Force I could feel his sincerity, but emotions could be faked.

The truth. The whole truth. Oh, that was tempting beyond measure. But to wander out into the wilderness with no allies or backup was foolhardy. Reckless-

Tempting.

I didn't answer, and his composure didn't slip at all. He seemed to realize I was struggling for a decision, as he spoke again. "I swear it upon the Jedi Code, Jen Sahara. I swear it upon the Force itself. I am your ally, and I will not harm you in any way."

I wanted to believe him, to trust him, to follow him. And if he was genuine, then the need for haste was truly there. Quatra had not even acknowledged my presence when she'd arrived. I could have been a damn wicker chair for all the attention she paid me. Bastila had trusted and respected Master Vrook, but what did that even mean to me? Vrook might blame me for her capture. After all, Korriban had been my idea.

And then there was the arrival of a third master that Quatra had mentioned, this Vandar. Juhani had looked worried when her old master dropped his name. That made three additional masters, other than Zhar. When it came to answers – and, potentially, my own safety – did it make more sense to disappear in the company of just one, who my previous self had trusted?

Or go to three, one of whom Bastila trusted? And while Vandar was an unknown, I already had a poor opinion of Quatra – who was rigid and cold enough that she'd use a padawan's feelings against them to test their mettle, rather than show any real empathy.

If Zhar is lying, or planning anything against me, it's possible I might have a chance against him. If I stay on my guard. Three masters, on the other hand, was a whole other skillet of scalefish.

"Okay," I assented, as I stood from my place on the floor. Once the decision was made, I felt a slight loosening of my shoulders. I had a way forward, and it felt right. I stared at him unflinchingly. "Let's go. What do we need?"

xXx

The Wookiees in Rwookrrorro had just one elevator down to the Shadowlands. I found that odd, at first, until I remembered the Shadowlands were held sacred by the Wookiees. Access was strictly controlled by the chieftain, usually for the purposes of either exile or coming-of-age rituals. And yet, Zaalbar had uncovered a plot – six years ago, give or take – to harvest tach from the bowels of the wroshyr forest. How could an operation like that be implemented under the noses of the Wookiees?

The elevator itself was just within the large barricade that marked Rwookrrorro proper. The armed Wookiees guarding the entrance eyeballed me with dark, suspicious eyes; but allowed us entrance after a few quiet words from Zhar. One of them escorted us to the lift, where another two stood waiting. They both held bowcasters in ready grasps.

The Wookiees all had a wary, almost angry, look about them. I knew they weren't predisposed towards outsiders, but I didn't think the tension in the air had anything to do with our presence. The number of Wookiees overtly gripping weaponry was excessive for what was, in reality, a modest township. Rwookrrorro might be considered large by Kashyyyk standards, but galactically speaking it was a blip.

The demeanour of the Wookiees spoke of undercurrents that I did not understand. Zaalbar was reticent by nature, and I believed it to be a common characteristic of his species. But it went beyond that. The Wookiees were on edge, as if preparing for an internal threat or political schism.

Their leader. Just before Bastila's agony had flooded through the bond – eclipsing thought of all else – I'd heard the name of their leader. Chuundar.

I stiffened in awareness, my thoughts racing, just as Zhar was motioned onto a large wooden basket that was suspended by four pulleys of thick rope. That's Zaalbar's corrupt brother. Sithspit, what happened to his father? Zhar turned to look at me, one brow raised in gentle inquiry, as he stood on the elevator and awaited my presence. He radiated a peaceful calm through the Force.

I threw him a tight smile and walked forward.

A dark haired Wookiee grunted, and stepped onto the platform next to us. With a dismissive flick of his paw, the elevator began its slow descent.

The light started to fade as we dropped; infinitesimally at first, but it made me aware of just how dark the bottom would be. Zhar must have picked up on my thoughts, for he gave me a small smile and cleared his throat.

"I have a couple of visors, but it would be easiest for you to remain immersed in the Force," he said quietly. "I understand the darkness is near absolute in the Shadowlands."

No problems there – right until Bastila wakes up again. But I gave him a short nod anyway, and my gaze slid back to the silent Wookiee, who stood on the edge of the elevator, staring away from us. Their vision was vastly superior to most sentients. I remembered in the Undercity, Zaalbar had not needed the lowlight sonic visors the rest of us wore.

"How long has Chuundar been chieftain?" I asked abruptly. Our Wookiee guard stiffened, implying some knowledge of Galactic Basic. Zhar's gaze shifted to him before moving back to me.

"Six months," he replied, his voice unnaturally curt.

Politics, alright. There's been some sort of coup, or I'm a Gamorrean's aunt.

Silence settled back on us, and my gaze slipped to the communicator resting on my wrist. I'd brought nothing with me, bar the two lightsabers on my belt. Zhar had insisted additional supplies weren't necessary – he'd been packed and ready to go at a moment's notice, with a large knapsack full of protein bars and whatever additional items he'd deemed necessary.

We might be doing this trip outside of the knowledge of Vrook, but there's no reason the crew can't know. I felt like I should trust Zhar, and yet running off blindly with him bespoke a recklessness that could be foolhardy. Well, I'm not going to ask his permission to contact my people.

I tapped on the communicator, and Zhar blinked.

"It's Jen," I spoke, when I heard Carth pick the signal up. "Have you found Dustil?"

::Yes, he's here with me now,:: Carth returned. ::We're at the 'Hawk. Are you heading back soon?::

"Not exactly," I muttered. Zhar's expression was composed, and he made no move to stop me talking. "I'm going down to the Shadowlands."

There was a pause, and I entertained myself with the image of Carth's expression. I felt a vague longing to have him here with me.

::When?:: he asked. ::We'll need to get kitted up, and decide who's going to go. You sound like there's urgen-::

"Carth," I cut in. "I'm on my way. Now."

The pause was briefer, this time. ::What?:: he demanded. ::Right now? You're not serious?::

"I'm on the lift headed down as we speak," I replied, my mouth twitching. "There's reasons, Carth – in a nutshell, we've got to get our main objective as quickly as possible."

I heard him sigh over the comm. ::Everything I've heard about the place – it's dangerous down there, Jen. Tell me you've got the right equipment. Tell me you at least have some idea where to find what you're looking for.::

Carth was being as circumspect as I. Wrist-comms weren't exactly the most secure method of far-range communication, and there were enough people out there who might try to sniff our signal. For my part, I wasn't sure how much I wanted the Wookiee listening in to understand.

"Zhar has a contact who might help. I'll stay in touch. You better get Dustil back to the others, if you can."

::The others?:: he questioned. His voice had shot up with disbelief. ::They're not with you?::

"The one who met us in the starport is. The others are back in the village," I answered. I didn't think Juhani had grabbed a communicator before disembarking. Likely, Carth had no way of reaching them – and possibly no easy way of dragging Dustil past the Wookiee sentries by the visitor lodgings. Carth would have to wait until Juhani returned to the 'Hawk.

No doubt that would suit his moody offspring just fine.

I hurried to keep talking before Carth could start venting his likely frustration. He'd never done well with me running off, even back on Taris. "Carth, do me a favour and keep an eye on the skies above? It'd be good to have forewarning of any… visitors to Kashyyyk."

There was another brief silence. I imagined Carth was trying hard to contain himself, and I couldn't stop a small grin as I stared down at the device on my wrist.

::Are you expecting someone?::

"Not exactly," I replied. "But our departure from our previous location will be known by now."

If the Sith had half a brain, they'd be sending forces to stop us. Frankly, I was surprised the Jedi hadn't come across any yet. Kashyyyk is a large place. Maybe they are elsewhere on this planet. How do we even know the Star Map is near Rwookrrorro? My gaze slid back to the silent Wookiee, and I reminded myself to ask that of Zhar when we were alone. Zaalbar knew nothing of the Star Maps, but I wasn't inclined to let slip any information that was bound to track back to his mercenary brother through our silent Wookiee escort.

I held onto a fleeting hope that Zaalbar didn't learn of his brother's ascension to chieftainship. With Zaalbar's current mood, there was no telling what he'd do. I have to find out about Freyyr, at least. For Zaalbar's sake.

::Noted,:: Carth said, and I took that to mean he understood what I didn't say. Keep an eye out for any incoming Sith. ::Be careful, Jen. This is… I don't like this.::

Leaving Carth behind was becoming a familiar scenario, and I knew how much he hated it. More so now, with whatever was between us. If sodding Dustil hadn't scarpered, Carth might be here next to me – a gun at my side, and a solid wall of support.

"I'll check in later, Carth. Go keep an eye on your son."

He murmured a farewell, and the comm-link shut off. I noticed, then, just how dark our surroundings had become. The trees were giant black shadows engulfed in an indigo haze. Here and there, tiny dots of glow-bugs were visible, emitting the smallest amount of light – just enough to attract their prey. I took a deep breath, and immersed myself in the Force.

Seeing with one's minds-eye was similar to wearing a low-light visor; the outlines of all shapes were distinct in shades of blue and black. In some ways, the clarity of detail shone out more. I could pick out the individual hairs of the forbidding Wookiee, as he stared into the blackness with his bow-caster raised, keeping an eye out for any predators that might pay us a visit.

There was some colour, though. Anything that lived radiated a faint yellow-orange hue of some strength. Zhar was a solid body of amber, and he was still staring at me placidly.

There was a gentle thud, and the basket landed on the forest floor. The Wookiee grunted, and unlatched the side before motioning us out.

"(The intercom is here)," the Wookiee barked at Zhar, motioning towards a large device mounted above my head on the nearest wroshyr. The tree was beyond gigantic. I felt like it would be a genuine ten minute walk just to get around the damn thing. "(When you are ready to go back, send a message. You might have to wait. We do not jump for outsiders no matter how much you've paid)."

He sounded like Zaalbar when he'd skipped a meal or two.

"Thank you, Growwhul," Zhar said in a pleasant tone as the Wookiee strode back into the basket. He grunted at Zhar in answer, and pushed a button on the railing that I hadn't noticed.

I'd barely been in Rwookrrorro, but I'd seen enough to be intrigued by Wookiee technology. It was an odd mix of primitive and new. They certainly weren't above using off-world machinery when required – their weaponry was evidence of that – but the housing and walking ramps were all made of native materials. Zaalbar said they preferred to live with nature – as much as was realistic when they allowed off-worlders to land on their planet and eye-ball their resources.

For instance, there had to be a Wookiee starport somewhere. I couldn't imagine the inhabitants of Rwookrrorro traipsing through Czerka bureaucracy to board a ship, and surely some of Zaalbar's people occasionally left Kashyyyk without being exiled.

The grinding noises of the ascending basket slowly faded, and I turned my attention to Zhar. He looked up from a datapad, hoisted the large pack over his shoulders, and gave me a brief smile.

"This way," he murmured, and began walking into the shadows.

I fell into step beside him.

I barely knew where to start. The list of questions was so long, and each one was loaded with the potential for answers I may not want. Just spit 'em out. Whatever the reason is, I already know some truths. I was a Jedi. I didn't fall.

My mind froze. Ness Jonohl didn't fall. There was a hard lump in my throat, and my steps faltered. Ness Jonohl didn't exist.

"Watch out for these," Zhar murmured, motioning towards a silvery thread that was stretched taut between two colossal wroshyrs that loomed like black walls on either side of us. "They are remnants of a wyyyschokk web, giant spiders native to Kashyyyk. Although these arachnids do not usually delve to the depths of the Shadowlands, their webs are extensive and it is better not to try our chances."

I glanced back to Zhar as he ducked under the sticky thread. "Have you been to the Shadowlands before?" I challenged. It wasn't the question I should be asking. What's my name, old man?

"No, but I am well informed. Provided we hold onto the Force and stay aware, I am confident we shall avoid any undesired encounters with the wildlife here."

Zhar picked up his pace. He was only walking, and yet I felt the power of the Force gain momentum under his heels. I matched my stride to his.

"You have a specific direction in mind?" I asked. How about, why is Darth Revan in my head?

"While we do not know where the Star Map is located, Master Vrook has indicated where he felt the presence of the Force user," Zhar answered in a mild tone. He skirted around a large patch of what appeared to be gigantic fungi. It glowed a yellow luminescence in my Force-sight. "He did not show himself to Vrook or Vandar, but if we are correct in his identity then he may appear to me."

"An old friend, you said," I muttered. And Jen Sahara? Why is there both a dead scholar and a dead Sith Lord in my mind?

"Yes. We believe him to be Jolee Bindo, a Human padawan who left the Order some forty years ago after the loss of his wife. We were padawans together; he, Karon and I." The words were spoken calmly, but there was a catch in his voice when he spoke Karon's name. I'd already suspected he'd known her, and now I could infer that he'd known her well. She was my master. And Zhar took me on training missions. Of course they knew each other well.

He took me and my lover on training missions. I wonder, could Zhar have been his master?

I was blind-sided, then, by a sharp spike of acrid fear in my head, and I stumbled. Bastila! Startled, and with a surge of fierce determination, I threw my mental voice as hard as I could towards my erstwhile bond-sister. Bastila, talk to me! Let me help!

I cannot! You must leave me be!

How long had she been awake, dammit? Stuck here in the shadowy depths with a master who knew my secrets, I hadn't been paying her the attention I should have. No way am I sitting back while you're getting tortured! I can help, Bastila, you need-

I will not be a liability to you!

"Jen? Are you alright?"

Liability? Stars, Bastila, what do you mean-

Shield yourself, and stay away from me!

A tearing pain ripped into my mind, and I gasped, my hands raising to clutch at my head. It was an echo, only, of whatever Bastila was feeling, and it was still too much. I can't leave her to go through this on her own. I must reach out-

Do not! She screamed. I cannot block you now- you must shield yourself from me!

No!

A gentle cloud of warmth settled over my psyche, diffusing the emotions and pain feeding back to me through the bond, and I was slowly aware of Zhar enshrouding me in a psychic shield once again.

"Concentrate, Jen," he was murmuring, as the agony faded into discomfort. Bastila's presence receded behind the cloudy buffer Zhar encased me with. "You must replicate this, and hold it around yourself."

I could see the layers he'd built around me through the Force-sight; intermeshing weaves of Force that blocked incoming psychic attacks… or emotions. It was the same mechanism I'd raised as a defense against Uthar Wynn, even if he'd managed to shear straight through them. With an internal resignation that felt far too gutless for my liking, I set about copying Zhar's shield.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back from me, leaving only my shield in place. I could still feel Bastila faintly, but her pain was now no more than a dull echo in the back of my mind.

"I can't keep doing this," I muttered through clenched teeth. Zhar began to walk again, and I had no choice but to follow.

"You must," he repeated. "There is no more you can do for her, not now."

"You would have me ignore her existence?" My voice rose in a blend of incredulity and disgust. "Let her wallow in pain while I go about my own damn business?"

"Certainly not," he replied, his voice as calm as ever. "But while she is being hurt you do yourself no favours by sharing the pain. It will not make it less for her should you allow yourself to feel it, too."

"She won't talk to me." The shield felt like my ears were stuffed with clotted wool. "She's blocking me out, when she's not being-" my mouth twisted- "tortured. She only said something about not being a damn liability, whatever that means."

I sensed rather than saw Zhar turn to look at me sharply. Our boots crunched through a damp layer of undergrowth. "Perhaps she is afraid the pain will uncover memories best left forgotten," he said softly. "Bastila is an experienced Jedi, and will have her reasons."

Memories best left forgotten. Maybe she was afraid it would rouse Revan.

Maybe she was right.

But I was learning to hold Revan back. I'd managed it, against Uthar. I'd damn well do it again if I needed to.

A blinking on my wrist-comm distracted my thoughts. Zhar and I clambered over an exposed root, and I answered it.

::(Jen),:: Canderous' voice came through in Mandalorian. ::(We gotta talk).::

I risked a glance at Zhar, who seemed as damnably unruffled as ever, even as we strode along at a fast pace. I had no idea whether Zhar understood Mandalorian or not, but I'd put my credits on the affirmative.

"(What's up?)," I asked, replying back in kind.

::(Onasi told me you're headed down to the Shadowlands. With one of those robes, and without Juhani. Tell me he got that wrong).::

"(I'm there already, with a master)," I answered. "(Juhani is back in the village. Is there a problem?)"

Canderous cursed in his mother tongue, a long string of words I didn't quite follow. I caught 'Jedi', and 'mind' and something about a slug, but everything else was unintelligible. ::(I shouldn't have listened to that damn Cathar),:: he growled. ::(I take it you're with him right now?)::

"(Yeah)," I said slowly. What did Juhani say to him? "(We're going after the same thing as previous planets. What's going on, Canderous?)"

He sighed angrily. ::(Keep your guard up, alright? I'll explain when you're topside. Just keep your guard up and your eyes open).:: I could feel myself frowning. Did Canderous suspect a threat in the Shadowlands, or was he implying one of Zhar? ::(Jen, there's other things we need to talk about. There's been some developments.)::

Zhar was watching me calmly, and I just knew he was following the thread of our conversation.

"(Report)," I stated.

::(There's been a coup at the Wookiee village a half-year ago. Zaalbar's dad has been chucked down to the Shadowlands).::

"(Yeah)," I agreed. "(I heard that)." Not about Freyyr, though. So he'd been exiled rather than killed. For a Wookiee, that counted as more dishonourable.

Canderous grunted. ::(Huh. Well, Zaalbar didn't take that too kindly. He's gone off alone to face his brother).::

"(What?)" I exclaimed. I'd stopped walking, and so had Zhar. "(He's left the 'Hawk?)"

::(Yeah. Czerka staff were ready to restrain him on sight, too. There ain't any free-walking Wookiees around this starport).::

I closed my eyes. "(He's going after his father, then. He's picking that Chuundar will throw him down to the Shadowlands)."

::(That's assuming his brother doesn't sell him into slavery, first. There's an underground trade here, Jen, and it ain't the most stable).::

The breath whistled out of my lungs. Slavery. That wasn't the Wookiee way. But from what Zaalbar had told me, Chuundar didn't follow the old way. Chuundar was all about expansion, at the cost of tradition. I wondered, briefly, if the brothers had ever gotten along. "(I can't think that the Wookiees would stand for that, even if their chieftain does)."

::(I don't know what sort of politics those hairballs are embroiled in, but I've done a spot of nosing about in the starport. Czerka's deep in bed with the Wookiee leader, and they're secretly shipping any protesters off-world for a pretty profit. But that's just a side-trade, Jen. The real money is the tach and syren harvest, and that's at the bottom of the forest. Czerka's employing hunters and mercs to gather up the raw materials. Your Shadowlands is getting to be a popular place).::

If Chuundar was selling his people into slavery – those that didn't agree with him – then things really had changed since Zaalbar left. It was a risky way to remove dissenters, though, if Chuundar had to do it covertly. Why wouldn't he just exile them all?

If Czerka are busy harvesting in the Shadowlands, then the last thing they need is a bunch of disaffected, angry Wookiees crawling around. Maybe Freyyr had been one of the lucky ones, or perhaps Chuundar couldn't bring himself to sell his dear old dad into slavery.

My fingers tapped against my thigh. The Czerka trade, though – that was bugging me. If it was as substantial as Canderous was suggesting, then there was no way the Rwookrrorro elevator was being used.

"(They've got another way down here)," I said slowly. "(Chuundar and his followers may be in bed with Czerka, but I can't think all the Wookiees would agree to that. And the lift I used wasn't exactly a well-used device)." Not to mention it was in the Wookiee township proper. Those armed and grumpy Wookiees did not look like they'd readily accept an influx of off-world scavengers.

::(I was thinking the same thing),:: Canderous agreed. ::(Either Czerka have their own lift or they're going elsewhere on the planet).::

Kashyyyk was covered in wroshyr forest. Maybe there were clearings around somewhere on the planet, but this area was choked with foliage – and the Czerka starport was stationed pretty frelling close to Rwookrrorro. Logistically speaking, a secret elevator within the Czerka stronghold would be the more efficient solution.

But Zaalbar had said his people controlled access to the Shadowlands. Chuundar's machinations must be relatively unknown amongst his people – some of them, anyway. I was willing to bet that his people wouldn't take too kindly to Czerka having free reign in the Shadowlands. If Chuundar's duplicity could be unearthed, then it could very well start a riot. Inciting a revolt on Kashyyyk is not what we are here for. But Zaalbar was one of my crew – and, possibly, on his way down here right now.

"(Get Teethree hacking into the Czerka communications array, see what he can dig up)," I said at last. "(Did you get the parts for HK?)"

::(Yeah. He'll be fixed soon. I was thinking he might be of some use. Jen-):: Canderous hesitated for a moment, which was unusual for him. ::(There's a hundred or so Wookiee prisoners on a freighter not far from us. Mission wants to go free them).::

I could feel my brows shoot up in disbelief. A hundred Wookiees in one ship... Czerka was getting deep into the slave trade. And while Mission's desire was good-natured and whole-heartedly typical of her, the fact that Canderous bothered repeating it meant he was considering it, on some level.

"(I doubt we have the manpower for that)," I said slowly.

::(Normally I'd agree with you, but these Czerka soldiers ain't hardened military. Look, I spoke to a couple of mercs who're providing muscle for a squad of hunters. This used to be a joint venture between the Exchange and Czerka until about a month ago when Czerka booted them out).::

I had little time for petty politics between corrupt organizations, but Canderous didn't generally waste his time on small talk. "(Go on)," I prompted.

He gave a short laugh. ::(Kashyyyk's a small operation in the galactic scheme of things, so it's not that damaging for the Exchange. What it really is, though, is retaliation. A swipe back against the Exchange, after they overran several outposts on Rii'shn including some Czerka mining interests).:: Canderous sounded amused. Too amused. ::(They blame Czerka for framing them over some sort of shoot-out in a cantina, and the closure of their primary docking bay).:: Canderous paused. ::(Right about the time we were on Manaan).::

My shoulders tensed as the pieces clicked together. Oh, Sithspit. You've got to be kidding me. I glanced over to Zhar, and even with Force-sight I could see his eyes had narrowed on me. He'd picked up on my reaction.

HK-47 had nicely manipulated events to leave the GenoHaradan blameless for the mess on Rii'shn, but it had caused a schism between Czerka and the Exchange instead. Did it matter? I had little love for either of them, but the fall-out was still impacting real people.

No. I did what I had to, to get out of there. At the crux of it, the fault lies with the GenoHaradan. If HK hadn't stolen an Exchange ship and blamed Czerka for it, then the GenoHaradan would have found some other way to point the finger elsewhere. It's not like anyone even knows who the GenoHaradan are.

I wrested my thoughts back into order, and focused on Canderous' voice.

::(-to tell me about that some time, Jen. Regardless, Czerka's forces are armed, but ill-trained. Most of them were ship crew and office staff before the Exchange guards left).::

Canderous was mulling over the idea of rescuing the Wookiees. I was vaguely surprised at that. But no matter how poorly trained the Czerka forces were, I didn't see any plausible way a hundred unarmed Wookiees could walk out of that starport alive.

"(See what you can find out, Canderous. We'll go from there)."

::(I'll be in touch),:: he assented. ::(Let's see if I can get the kid's bucket droid to dig up anything useful).::

"(Okay. Don't put anyone at risk)." I didn't think Canderous would. He wasn't the sort to go sticking his neck out for others, so this entire conversation seemed a little surreal. Canderous was far from being any sort of coward, but I didn't quite get where his interest in the Wookiee situation was coming from. "(This isn't what we're on Kashyyyk for)."

::(I hear you. But that walking hairball is one of us, ain't he? Even if I can't understand a damn word he says).::

Clan. Canderous was seeing us all as clan, now, I realized. Mandalorians were as fierce about clan as they were about their honour. I'd respected Canderous for a long time already, but my opinion of him rose another notch. Self-serving at times, he may be – but he was damn loyal to those he considered his.

"(Yeah)," I said finally. "(Zaalbar's one of us. Keep in touch, Canderous. If Juhani comes back, slap a communicator on her as well)."

::(Alright. Keep your eyes open).::

With a click, the comm switched off. Zhar regarded me steadily.

"You have picked up some interesting companions, Jen Sahara," he commented. "And are involving yourself in politics that perhaps you shouldn't."

I sighed irritably. His words had the touch of déjà vu about them, as if they were an echo of conversations I'd heard numerous times before. The faint bleed-over from Bastila didn't help my mood, either. The psychic shield held her presence at bay, eliminated near-all of what she was feeling… but not the awareness of it. The bitter taste of cowardice still sat in my gut.

"I know, I know," I muttered in a low voice. "Jedi do not involve themselves in politics. We are mediators only, not politicians."

Zhar's eyes widened. Through the Force, he was a body of radiating amber, etched in blue and black lines. It wasn't so easy to decipher his expression, this way, but I thought he looked slightly shocked. "Uh, yes. Yes." He cleared his throat. "While the Wookiee situation is regrettable, and perhaps some Jedi involvement could assist or at least advise…" he trailed off, frowning. "Exactly what do you recall of your past?"

The abrupt question caught me off-guard; I'd expected to be the one to initiate that line of conversation. I was about to answer – not really sure of my words, just yet – when a rustling in the nearby undergrowth had us both turning.

A sole figure, a dark blue shadow of a humanoid, emerged walking slowly towards us.

"Huh. Looking for me, are you?"

xXx