A second encounter

- Jolee Bindo -


The Shadowlands was an elusive beast, I'd found. After too many years to count, I should have known all her secrets. Surprises had become… rare. There was a certain heartbeat to the ecosystem, an amalgamation of sound and smell and spirit that could forewarn one of endangerment, be it from flora or fauna.

Bah. Maybe I would have done better as a poet.

Still, the shattering upsurge of raw Force power had certainly given me a nasty jolt.

And this place was getting far too darn crowded.

I was happy when it was just me, the odd Wookiee, and the natural wildlife that may paralyze or maim or kill, but not with any malice. As far as the predators here were concerned, I was just a walking meal - albeit a bit of a bony one.

It was a simple life, and it agreed with me.

But there was always a fly in the bacta salve, and for me it was the Faceless One. He'd killed a few Wookiees, hoisted his comm arrays near and far, and hacked through the habitats of enough endangered species to earn my ire. I'd never managed to track him down in person but, heh, I'd destroyed a sufficient amount of his tech that it had to be hurting his credit line.

A guy like that, he had no business living in a place like the Shadowlands. It made me wonder why he did.

Still, the Faceless One was a minor irritation in the grand scheme of things. I'd made my peace with the past, and left it behind me. I'd always figured I'd meet my end here, either through complacency, old age or just darn bad luck. Adventures on any galactic scale were beyond me now.

Or so I'd thought.

Oh, sure, there'd been that time four years ago, when I'd had a visitor so drenched in destiny that it had disturbed my peace of mind – but she'd left, leaving her secrets cloaked in a technology I'd never managed to conquer. The dust soon settled, and my life resumed its simple anonymity.

It was Vrook's presence that first made me wonder if I was wrong, if this wasn't the completion of my tale, if maybe the Force had turned her eye once more on ole Jolee Bindo.

Ah, Vrook Lamar. Now there was a sourpuss if I ever knew one. He'd been cantankerous and surly as a teen, and I doubted he'd aged well. He was probably a Master now, a snappish old man lecturing the kids on the dangers of feeling anything other than mild indigestion.

He was here with Vandar Tokare, although it'd taken me some time to recognize that Force signature. Vandar had already been an established Master back when I was a pup. From a different Enclave to me though – Karon and Zhar's first one, if I recalled correctly – which was why it'd taken me so long to ascertain his identity.

There was only one thing on Kashyyyk that could have brought them here.

I'd thought about showing them the way, I truly had – but, well, Vrook had never been my favourite person. And it wasn't like that relic had done Revan any good, with the way she'd turned out.

I didn't hear much, down here in the Shadowlands, but usually I glanced through the galactic goings-on before smashing the Faceless One's arrays. Heh. And it was hard to miss the repercussions of Revan's actions, when one was scrolling through the HoloNews headlines.

I'd found it annoying, at first, all these off-worlders interrupting my hard-won solitude. Bad enough that Czerka started sticking their fat fingers into the Kashyyykian resources, worse that a Wookiee chieftain had fallen prey to the greed of civilization.

I liked the Wookiees. They were simple – by no means stupid, but in general they preferred to eschew the trappings of wealth and technology that could make living so darn complicated at times. Czerka had gained a foothold here some hundred years ago, so I supposed it was only a matter of time until they finally gained a Wookiee ally.

A right shame, though.

It'd be nice to do something about that, but while the Wookiees accepted my presence on Kashyyyk, the ones who braved the Shadowlands generally weren't interested in conversing with a hairless geriatric. They fell into three groups: young cubs proving their worth, mentors keeping an eye on them, or exiles embarking on a final journey of redemption. Not anyone particularly interested in an off-worlder's observations, be it about increased merc activity or the foibles of tolerating an organization such as Czerka Corporation.

So I sat back, and let events unfold as they may.

Then Vrook and Vandar came, wandering aimlessly around the Shadowlands for a couple of weeks before heading back topside.

And now… well, the shock of four great Force-users, agitating and clashing together in a swirling of power and destiny, certainly had me sit up and take notice. Maybe it was time to find out exactly what was going on in my backyard.

I hadn't been nearby, though. Far enough away that I doubted the familiarity of the lightest one - the one that shone with a gentle righteousness I thought I recognized. It had been snuffed out before I came close, and so had the chaotic spark – until all that was left were two Dark signatures, speeding back in my direction. Before they'd stopped, and everything erupted all over again.

Kids messing up my planet, I thought grumpily, but I couldn't deny the caution in my soul at that level of power. And if Dark Jedi were here, then maybe I'd made the wrong decision in evading Vrook.

I'd felt an upsurge of turbulent power, and then one of the Dark ones sputtered into death. The other fled - away from me, away from the Force presence that bordered on behemoth.

It seemed the chaotic one may not have been as defeated as I first thought.

But the power plummeted as I warily closed in. I kept my footsteps quiet, and tamped down hard on my Force signature.

I could hear a voice; a young, hysterical voice that didn't belong to the presence I had felt. "Jen, what- what-"

Noisy sobs echoed through the shadows, followed by the whisper of a tormented sigh.

I took a step closer. There was a tangle of sparse undergrowth between me and the strangers. Sparse enough to offer some view of what lay ahead.

A bowed figure, scarlet lightsaber held impotently at his or her side. The dark mop of curls suggested a woman, probably human, but I couldn't be certain from here. Her shoulders were slumped, head tucked into her chest. Defeat seemed etched into every line of her body.

Some metres to the left was the crumpled form of a Twi'lek teenager, whose sobs were dwindling into messy sniffles as she slowly clambered to her feet.

The human's red lightsaber didn't mean anything – just like brown robes, too many Force users allowed coloured labels to define them – but I was still wary. This young Twi'lek was completely defenceless against a wild Force user, who had more raw power than anyone should, by rights.

I scanned through the brambles, taking in what scenery I could. There was a tangled, smoking mess of durasteel beyond the figures. Shards of twisted metal had spread out in a wide arc around it, suggesting whatever it had been – a transport vehicle, most likely - had collided with some velocity into the ground.

My gaze travelled further, snagging on four visible corpses nearby. One was a crumpled mess of dark robes. I'd felt that one die. His body was leaned against a wroshyr that bore obvious signs of heavy Force damage. Layers of thick bark peeled back from the massive tree, presenting the unwelcome image of a gaping wound in the trunk.

I could feel my irritation flare, at that.

The Force-user tensed in sudden movement, her head jerking in my direction as her lightsaber lifted. I had one moment to curse myself for the slip of emotion, before she'd launched in front of the Twi'lek as a shield, her weapon raised in a defensive guard as the Force rallied around her like a sweeping cyclone.

"Show yourself!" the woman growled. "Or, so help me, I will make you!"

"I'm no threat to you," I called out, taking care to stomp loudly as I rounded the bushes. "Just an old man fed up with the mess you and your friends are making of my home."

She was human, I confirmed, as I had my first clear glimpse of her. The illumination of the lightsaber reflected against her face, dark shadows under her eyes standing out in stark relief against the red. Hard to pick her age, from this distance, but she was too young to be anyone from my past.

I breathed out in relief. After Vrook, I'd been wary that other ghosts of mine might resurface. I'd been gone near four decades, half of which I'd spent on Kashyyyk. This one probably wasn't born when I'd turned my back on the Order.

"Rulan Prolik," she muttered, her eyes narrowing.

I felt my eyebrows raise in bemusement at the foreign name. Behind her, the Twi'lek stepped backward and stumbled over the corpse of a mercenary, falling inelegantly to the ground.

"I thought you-" the human cut herself off, frowning as she eyeballed me. And I found myself taking her measure, in return. One arm was tucked tight into her chest, and her breathing was hitched in pain. She wore loose, torn clothing that had obviously seen better days. Suddenly, the woman barked a laugh that was both cold and harsh. "Sun and stars. It's the real Jolee Bindo, isn't it?"

"Huh. You've got the advantage of me, young pup," I said, my brows knitting together. Maybe Vrook had detected me and sent someone else in his stead, but this one seemed a strange choice. "Not to mention appallingly bad manners."

I glanced behind the human to the young Twi'lek, who'd raised herself on her elbows. Her hand brushed against a lightweight blaster, seemingly dropped from the mercenary's dead grasp.

"Did you know Rulan Prolik likes to run around impersonating you?" the woman demanded, rather inanely. Her shoulders slumped and her weapon dropped, as if she no longer saw me as any sort of threat. I noticed her shaking, then, a second before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed to the forest floor.

Somehow, she'd had the presence of mind to mash the off-switch on her lightsaber, first.

The Shadowlands were once more immersed in darkness, which wasn't a problem for me, but the young Twi'lek cried out in blind shock, and her fingers curled around the grip of the blaster.

"Calm down," I said, in my most non-confrontational voice. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Go away!" the girl shrieked, her voice quavering in panic. "Leave us alone!"

Her breathing was fast and loud, verging on hyperventilating, and her unseeing gaze was wild. She was helpless and frantic in the dark, and with that mind I used the most obvious light-source to accommodate her.

The green of my decades-old weapon glowed.

"I'm not your enemy," I said, reaching out with a soothing touch of Force. But she shrieked as her vision homed in on my lightsaber, and in a panicked motion quicker than I predicted her hand lifted and squeezed the trigger.

The shot missed me by more than a metre, but it was still closer than I liked. With a twist of irritation, I aimed a channel of thermal energy directly at the titasteel of the blaster.

The girl squeaked as she dropped the now piping-hot gun.

Again, I surrounded her in a gentle energy, attempting to smooth over the jagged edges of her panic. The girl's heartbeat was thundering strong and fast, but it began to ease. Then her agitated gaze slowly travelled over me, taking in my face and the serviceable tunic I wore.

"Now," I said briskly. "No more shooting at me. Where I come from, that's considered rude."

The girl's breathing slowed, somewhat. "Are you- are you a Jedi?" she whispered.

I snorted as I took a step forward. The human was still down, but I could feel her rousing already. Just a faint, then, and I wondered exactly what sort of trauma these two had just been through. "I'm not overly fond of labels, girl."

"A Sith?" the Twi'lek gasped, completely ignoring my previous statement.

"I'm just an old man who might be a friend." I said, by way of explanation. The girl's gaze had locked again on the bright green beam. I huffed in irritation. "With a lightsaber. And fancy Force powers."

She blinked, before turning back to her companion. "She's- she's hurt," the Twi'lek mumbled. "I don't know how badly."

I looked around once more, surveying the environs. The destruction of whatever vehicle that had been had likely scared off predators, but not for long. And the faint metallic tang of blood on the air would draw some of them back sooner rather than later.

"This place isn't safe, not with these corpses," I said, walking closer to the strangers with slow, obvious strides so as not to spook the girl again. She seemed less hysterical now and I wanted to keep it that way. "Let me see to your friend, and then we'll move to my camp. It's not far from here."

I crouched next to the human, reaching out with gentle weaves of Force energy. She was coming to, and it was easy for me to speed that process up-

I leaned over her, close now, and recognition punched me hard in the gut.

"You can quit hiding," the stranger called out, her back to me as she tended to the wild game roasting over a small fire. Amusement warmed her low tone. "I'm bored of waiting for you to announce yourself."

"Huh," I managed, surprised despite myself. I'd been discreet, in terms of both my physical and Force presence. "Just testing your skills, young pup. This place has killed many an off-worlder before you."

I'd been tracking her for days. Her signature burned in the Force, a chaotic raw power completely foreign to Kashyyyk. I was curious what would draw such a presence here. There was danger a-plenty on this forest world, but big-game hunting was infinitely more accessible on a hundred other planets.

"Young pup," she echoed, following it with a soft chuckle. "That's rather refreshing, actually."

She turned her head to appraise me as I stepped near the firelight. She was human, thirty or thereabouts, with sharp green eyes that stared at me in wary calculation. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy braid, and she wore loose, non-descript clothing that was immediately noticeable as not Jedi robes.

Which didn't necessarily mean a darn thing. I'd never worn those robes myself, even when I'd called myself a member of the Order.

"When you get to my age, you've earned the right to throw that label near and far," I said at last, perching on the ground near the fire.

Her expression was inscrutable, and she looked back to the roasting meat. It smelled good. "What are you doing on Kashyyyk, old man?"

I huffed in mild annoyance. "Hey, that's my question to you! This is my home, kid. Why are you here?"

I saw a twitch at the corner of her mouth. Something told me not to underestimate this one. "I'm looking for a relic of a civilization long dissolved into dust. It's a technological device that pre-dates even the wroshyrs. Seen anything like that?"

"There's nothing like that here," I answered, feeling my brows knit in bemusement. I wondered what sort of wild bantha chase had led her here. "This part of Kashyyyk is home to trees, predators that will kill you, plants that will kill you, and a few more trees. The refreshing thing about the Shadowlands is its complete lack of technology."

Her mouth curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She appeared calm, but there was an underlying tension to her body language that bespoke of a readiness to leap into action in an instant.

"Oh, it's nearby," she murmured. "This is the oldest part of the Shadowlands. The trees here tell a story all their own."

I could feel my eyebrows rise at her conviction. "Well, young pup, I hope you're used to disappointment."

"I've had my share."

I harrumphed. "You keep blundering through the undergrowth the way you are, and you're bound to get yourself into trouble," I said, my voice gruff through the blatant lie. Her survival and tracking skills had been obvious to me days ago. "I know the area. I can guide you around, at least until you realize your Force relic isn't here."

Not that she'd said it was anything to do with the Force, but it was a sharp enough guess. The casual manner in which she reached forward to remove her dinner from the flames either meant my assumption was wrong, or she was a better actor than I suspected.

"You can join me, for now," she said. I had the vague feeling the 'for now' suffix was not so much a threat as a statement of certainty. "I'd be glad of the company. What's your name, old man?"

"Jolee. Jolee Bindo."

She nodded, her gaze meeting mine again. "My name is Revan Freeflight."

Back then, I had struggled not to react to that, even as an irritating smirk had blossomed on her face. At least this time, she wasn't awake.

Revan. Huh. I didn't see that coming.

So much for being too young for anyone I knew. To be fair, since I'd left the Order behind I could count the number of Force-users I'd encountered on one hand, with fingers to spare.

It just so happened that she was one of them.

But while I was certainly not up to date with the latest headlines, I was pretty sure Revan was meant to be dead. As well as a lot more Sithy.

I didn't like feeling back-footed. With an impulsiveness unlike me, I wrapped the human up in a soothing blanket of Force, and coaxed her into a deep, slumberous state. I expected some psychic resistance, given what I knew of her, but the strength of it surprised me nonetheless.

You are safe here. I willed the energy surrounding her to appear benign, pacifying, trustworthy. My gut said it wasn't working, that her consciousness was fighting me, struggling against my efforts with a growing strength that would soon out-strip mine. You are safe, I repeated, knowing that while she might not hear my mental words, she may at least feel their intent. You and your friend both.

With a suddenness I didn't expect, she seemed to surrender, plummeting into unconsciousness.

I rocked back on my heels, taken aback at the swift change. It seemed – deliberate. As if she desired the escape. Huh. Looks like she's just as hard to predict as last time. And likely just as dangerous. Still, I had a reprieve in which to work out what to do next. She had to be after that ancient relic, the one she hadn't let me near four years ago.

But Revan had done an awful lot of bad things in the intervening time.

I remembered, then, that I wasn't alone, and turned back to the Twi'lek. "I think your friend – Jen, was it?" At the girl's worried nod, I continued. "She needs rest. Her arm's pretty banged up." I frowned, nudging at the limb gently with the Force. "I can look at that back at my place. Come." I stood, hearing my knees creak.

"But- Jen-" The girl gestured to Revan in confusion.

"Fancy Force powers, remember?" I admonished. I sent the Force out, in cushioned cords of energy that lifted the volatile human into the air. The Twi'lek blinked. "Follow me, and stay close."

xXx

The Twi'lek girl introduced herself as Mission, before drooping into silence. She'd scooped up the merc blaster as we'd left, and I hadn't bothered to comment. If it made the girl feel safer, then so be it.

I was wrapped up in my own thoughts, anyway.

Revan, alive and back on Kashyyyk. But she hadn't recognized me, for all that she knew my name. That was odd. We'd spent days together, philosophizing about the nature of the Force and the Jedi, before she turned into a corner of the Shadowlands I'd always avoided – innately, without realizing it – and then flatly told me to leave if I valued my life.

Now I didn't exactly consider myself a memorable character or anything, but it hadn't been that long ago. And she had to be here for that Force relic – again – so why wouldn't she think on the grumpy old coot who'd trailed her for most of that original journey?

It could have been the Dark Side messing with her head, what with the stories I'd heard – but then she didn't look all that Dark, either.

And the Twi'lek called her by a false name. That don't mean a thing. Of course she'll use a false name if the galaxy thinks she's dead.

I'd been thinking things were getting boring, lately – but this wasn't exactly the sort of shakeup I was after. Bah, quit your whining, Bindo. It's not going to change what the Force has thrown at you. Somehow, I had the feeling I wouldn't be on Kashyyyk for much longer.

"Well," I said, breaking the silence as we neared my hut. "Welcome to my home, such as it is."

I had a couple of makeshift huts, dotted around the Shadowlands. Sure, they had a tendency to get infested with rkkrrkkrl trap-spinners, which was dangerous – or tach, which was annoying and mildly messy. Then there was the time an uller had chosen one as a mating pen.

That had taken a good dollop of Force persuasion to clear.

But, as far as shelter went, they were good enough for me.

The young Twi'lek was staring at the sideways-leaning one-room building with a mild look of disbelief.

"That's your home?"

I frowned. "It's a perfectly serviceable hut," I grumped, although I did take a moment to try and view it through the eyes of a teenage city-dweller. Massive chunks of bark shed from the wroshyrs themselves formed the base of the roof, resting on pruned baloo poles and twined together with kshyyy vines. The entire structure rested back against a wroshyr, and the remaining walls were thick branches lashed together in a manner similar to the Wookiee's handiwork topside.

The Force made it relatively simple to throw one of these shacks together, and ensure its stability in the short-term. It wasn't pretty, but then I never pretended to be an architect.

Mission was still staring at it doubtfully, before her gaze slipped back to her sleeping companion. With a flick of my wrist, the door to my home opened, and I shifted Revan inside.

I didn't have a fixed abode as such - the huts I created were meant to be temporary habitats that fit in with the Kashyyykian ecosystem. As such, this one was sparsely furnished. One corner held a bundle of blankets where I placed Revan; the far wall was graced with a long bench that held a minimal collection of cooking utensils and implements. Closed containers of water and wasaka-juice sat under the only table – for although water was plentiful in the Shadowlands, it was also something I preferred to have reserves of.

The girl was standing awkwardly in the centre of the rom, having left the door wide open. I harrumphed. City-dwellers became so accustomed to electronic closures that it completely addled any basic courtesy or common sense they might otherwise have had. I stomped over to close the door myself, before gesturing toward the small stool by the table.

"Pull up a stump and be comfortable. I'll see to your friend, and then we should discuss a few things."

Revan's arm was damaged in three places: a shoulder dislocation I could fix, a broken forearm that I could set but would take some time to heal, and two severed fingers I couldn't do anything for. Still, lightsaber wounds healed clean, and she'd be able to sort a prosthetic or mechanical solution once off-world.

"Will she be okay?" Mission asked in a tiny voice. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"She will soon," I murmured, as I reached out simultaneously with my hands and the Force. I'd set many bones and dislocations in the past… but not for a very long time. "It's a good thing she's out to it, young pup. Otherwise this would hurt."

With a slow, steady force, I pulled Revan's outstretched arm away from her torso. I felt the thunk as the bone slid back into the socket. She gave out a sharp cry and her eyelashes fluttered, before she settled back into unconsciousness.

She'll come to, and soon. I'd better work out exactly how I'm going to handle her this time around. But her instinctive action of guarding Mission had already shown me one thing – she cared for the girl. And Mission seemed loyal to her.

Perhaps they would reveal more if I wasn't around.

I cleared my throat. "Her forearm is broken, but it's in the right position. There isn't much more I can do for her other than immobilize the arm." As I continued my ministrations, I could sense the teenager glancing around in curiosity. The Force made it easy to read people's emotions, and the Twi'lek was no exception. She was shocked, fearful – natural that, here in the Shadowlands – and undeniably confused. But her mood had definitely calmed from earlier.

"So, you live in the Shadowlands?" she asked, as I rocked back on my heels. I'd strapped Revan's arm, but it would only hold as long as she wasn't stupid with it. And this was Revan, after all. Inconsequential things like broken arms wouldn't stop her from doing what she wanted. In fact, it seemed that not even death would stop her.

"What gave it away?" I asked, reaching out with gentle threads of healing Force. There were damaged nerves and ruptured blood vessels in the shoulder, it having been dislocated for some time. The Force could accelerate the healing process but, ultimately, she needed rest. "The fact I've built a hut down here, or that I referred to this place as my home?"

"Okay, okay, no need to get snarly," she muttered. "It's just, I thought only Wookiee exiles went down here. And the boys out to prove their manhood or something. 'Cause, y'know, the girls have to stay behind and do the cooking." She said the last with a derogatory tone, and when I turned to face her she was rolling her eyes in vague annoyance.

"You know a bit about Wookiee culture," I said mildly, trying not to sound surprised as I stood and wandered over to the table where she sat.

Mission shrugged. "My best friend's a Wookiee. Hard not to pick a few things up."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up at that, but my reply was interrupted by a quiet chirping sound. We turned in unison, to stare at the source: the unmoving Revan.

The noise sounded again, the soft vibration of an electronic device. The Twi'lek girl gasped, scrabbled to her feet, and ran to Revan. As she crouched down and began fiddling with the human's wrist, I recognized the noise for what it was.

::Jen?:: a deep voice barked from Revan's limp wrist. It sounded angry, upset, and demanding.

"Canderous!" Mission cried, fumbling with the communicator. There was a pregnant pause.

::What? Haar'chak, Mission, is that you?::

The Twi'lek burst into sobs.

::Mission? Mission! Calm down-:: There was an intake of breath. ::Jen. She's not-::

"No! No, Jen's fine. I mean-" The Twi'lek sniffed, seemingly once more in control of herself. "She's a bit banged up and out to it, and there's some other stuff – but she's okay. We're both okay, we're both safe. I've just had a rotten day."

There was a string of curses from the communicator in a foreign language. I thought they might be Mandalorian.

::You've had a rotten day? Mand'alor's balls, Mission, I had to watch you disappear down to the Shadowlands and not come back up. When I finally got there myself, I couldn't find a trace of you or Jen, and then your kriffing communicator blacked out-:: There was a deep growl over the comm. I raised my eyebrows, turned around, and decided to make myself a cup of tea. Didn't sound like this conversation was going to be over in a hurry.

"Blacked out?" Mission parroted. There was a shuffle behind me. "Oh! Oh, mine's completely bust. I didn't notice. Um, I guess it was from all that lightning."

Lightning? I frowned, turning back to stare at the Twi'lek. If she'd been caught in the middle of the fight between Revan and those Dark Jedi, then she'd truly had a bad day.

::Lightning?:: the voice from the communicator demanded. ::Okay, kid, start from the beginning and report.::

The girl sniffed again. I finished straining the dried auldflowers from the chipped mug, and took a small sip. I didn't particularly like it cold, but sometimes it felt comforting just to hold a drink in one's hands.

::Hello?:: another voice cut in over the comm, frantic and young and male. ::Ordo, what have you found? Did you find Mission? Her link's still dead-::

"Dustil?"

::Keep your jockeys on, Sithkid, she's fine.::

I found my eyebrows raising at the moniker. Between a girl Twi'lek who claimed a Wookiee as a best friend, a Mandalorian, and a young'un labelled a Sithkid, it seemed that Revan's companions were interestingly eclectic.

::Mission! Frakk, Dad went absolutely mental- hey, what are you doing on Jen's comm?::

"Oh, is Carth back? Sheesh, I bet he had some choice words-"

::Is Onasi there?:: the Mandalorian cut in.

::No, the Republic brass pulled him away again. Something weird is going on with them – he said he'll be right back – frakk, Mission, just after he left I saw your link black out on the 'Hawk's console-::

"Yeah, I dunno if this thing can get fixed-"

::I was gonna go after you, after Ordo told me what happened, but Dad got that stupid astromech to seal the damn hatch so I couldn't-::

::Enough! You kids can bitch about everything when we're all back on the 'Hawk. Mission, what the kriff happened?::

There was a shaky intake of air from the Twi'lek. "I didn't mean to leave the lift. But there was a grenade – so I ran, and then these sleemo Mandalorians grabbed me and took off!" A note of anger had entered her voice. "Sheesh, Canderous, your countrymen were complete ronto turds. And then they tried to pinch 'speeders from a couple of Dark Jedi – who were holding Jen captive – and, well, you can probably guess what happened next."

There was another pause. I leaned back against the wooden bench, and took a second sip of tea.

::They killed the Mando'ade, and Jen killed them.::

"Something like that," she muttered.

::Okay, kid, you win. Your day is worse. And I'm glad I didn't tell Carpet you were missing.::

"You're with Big Z?" she demanded. "Where are you? Is he okay? What's going on?"

::He's here, with his dad. They ain't too interested in talking to non-Wookiee folk like me. Look, kid, you need to wake Jen up and get her on the comm.::

The girl paused. "Um… I'll get her to buzz you when she comes to. She's… a bit out to it, Canderous. But she's okay… I mean, uh, give her some time, okay?"

There was a disgruntled noise over the communicator. ::Sithkid, trace Mission's location and patch me the coordinates. Mission, are you with anyone else?::

"Yeah," she sighed. "Some old guy with a green lightsaber. He's helping us."

"Jolee. The name's Jolee, young pup," I called out in vague annoyance.

"Canderous, Dustil, I gotta go and see to Jen. I'll be in touch, okay?"

::Stay put, ad'ika. I'll be getting your position shortly.::

::Uh, be safe, okay?:: the younger voice added.

Mission switched Revan's communicator off, and turned back to look at me, uncertainty plain in her expression. I took another sip of tea, before placing the cup to the side of the bench. It did taste pretty awful cold.

I reached out gently with the Force, more to gauge her mood than anything else. The girl was still scared, on edge, but calmer than I expected, given what I thought she'd been through. Ah, the resilience of youth. And also, I felt Revan stirring. I could coax her back to sleep – possibly – or I could fish for information another way.

This was Revan, after all. I had a darn right to know whether she presented a danger to Kashyyyk, or anyone who lived here.

I cleared my throat. "I'm going for a quick walk, young pup. Stay in the hut – it's safe here, and I won't be long. Don't leave this place – I don't have to tell you the Shadowlands are dangerous."

Mission immediately looked alarmed, and her wide eyes shot back to Revan. "You're- you're leaving? Why?"

"To pick up that one's lightsaber, for a start." I gestured toward the sleeping human. "If she's like any other Force user I've known, she won't be happy until it's back in her possession. As I said, you'll be safe as long as you stay put. See you in a bit."

xXx

There weren't any predators sniffing about the corpses yet, other than a dozen or so hopeful gnit-flies. It gave me time to investigate the scene, without having to concern myself about nullifying any irritating threat. Kinrath would flock here soon enough, I knew, so I got to work.

Revan's double-bladed red 'saber lay on the ground where she dropped it. I picked it up, and went to appraise the mercenary corpses first. Two of them were decked out in full heavy-armour that was distinctively of Mandalorian style. The third was a heavy-set Togruta, who wore nothing more than plain clothing, which was odd in contrast to his deceased companions.

I frowned. It looked like the Togruta corpse had been shifted. Regardless, the mercenaries held nothing of value to me other than a handful of ration bars and a sole medikit. I moved onto the Dark Jedi.

Even in death, there was a dark residue around the body. With some hesitation, I pocketed his single lightsaber. I wasn't planning on collecting them as such, but I also didn't want the next Czerka-paid idiot to come along and accidently hack his own arm off. That sort of thing had been known to happen, with lightsabers.

The remnants of the vehicle – some light speeder I suspected – were strewn near and far. Surveying the dual power cells and the amount of debris visible, I judged it to have been just the one vehicle. As I sifted through the wreckage, I came across a set of nerve restraints and a neural disruptor.

With a grimace of disgust, my lightsaber ran through the lot of them.

There was a cargo bag, too, flung some distance away. It had likely been attached to the speeder before its unfortunate demise. The first thing I pulled from it was yet another lightsaber.

I stilled, staring down at the hilt. It took a moment before my thoughts began processing again.

Right. It's time to head back and get some answers from Revan.

The walk back was swift. I kept my mind blank, and focussed purely on the Force around me. Revan's presence was significant as I neared. She was either awake, or on the cusp of being so, and I didn't want her to sense me.

I dimmed the energy surrounding me, drawing it gently inward. It wasn't possible to conceal my presence entirely, but I could pass for the psychic touch of a smallish forest creature. And although that hadn't fooled Revan four years ago, she was somewhat more rattled and preoccupied this time around.

And, darn it, I wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation and figure out what the heck was going on.

I ain't going to feel guilt over this, I told the slight pang of misgiving in my chest. I've heard enough of Revan's doings after the last time she found that relic. I have to decide whether I should stop her or aid her, and that means I need information.

"Jen?" I heard the Twi'lek kid question through my amplified hearing. She sounded plaintive.

There was a groan in response.

"Jen, are you awake?"

"Mission." The voice was a hoarse whisper. "Mission, is that really you? Sithspit, where- where am I?"

"We're safe, at least for now. Are you- are you ok?"

There was a muffled snort that seemed to border on hysteria. "This is real," Revan muttered. "Sun and stars, this is actually real. I can't…" the voice trailed off. I felt my brows knit together in confusion. Revan'd had a rough battle, for sure, but she sounded nothing like the self-possessed Jedi of old. Something was off. Something had changed with her, and I had no idea what I was dealing with, yet.

"It's gonna be okay, Jen. I mean-"

The laughter that followed was definitely trekking into the throes of hysteria, now. I wondered if I needed to make my presence known. Does the Twi'lek chit have any inkling who she is dealing with?

"That's not my name, Mission. You heard. Don't tell me you didn't catch that bastard calling me Revan."

Okay, so maybe she does.

"Yeah, I mean, but- but it's not true, right? I mean, that Hutt-slime was just messing with your head. Everyone knows Revan was a guy-"

Or maybe she doesn't. This was getting confusing.

And the choking noise that cut through the Twi'lek's impassioned plea sounded a lot like sobbing. "Stars, Mission, I can decisively confirm that I'm female. That Revan is."

There was a slight pause, before the exuberant Twi'lek bounced back. "Look, Jen, I know you. Whatever that freakazoid said to have you believing-"

"Mission, stop." The words were low, intent and commanding, and the girl dwindled into silence. "It's true," Revan whispered. "It's true, Mission."

I could hear the Twi'lek take in a deep breath. "Okay," she said slowly. "Okay. But we can sort this out-"

"How? How in the sodding Outer Rim can we sort this out?"

There was a heavy silence following her impassioned plea. I found myself bemused. Not only was Revan alive when the galaxy mostly certainly thought her dead, but it sounded like her own identity was as much of a surprise to her as it had been to me.

"I don't know," Mission whispered. "I mean, I don't really understand any of this. How can you be…"

"That monster? Bastila saved me instead of killing me like she should have."

Ah, Bastila Shan. The latest prodigy of the Jedi. Had some fandangled talent the holonets were raving about. And somehow, like all young, strong Force-users, had become tangled in events beyond her control.

"Everyone knows Bastila faced Darth Revan. I can't believe I didn't sodding guess this before."

She hadn't known who she was. That explained her behaviour – but not what she was going to do next.

There was shuffling noise. "Jen-"

"That's not my name."

"It is, to me," the girl answered. The honestly in her voice was raw, and beautiful.

"Mission," Revan replied, soft and mournful. "Jen Sahara died a year ago. I killed her. How can you be taking this so… so damn lightly?"

It was interesting to speculate on exactly what had happened. Somehow, I had the feeling the Jedi had done something they shouldn't. Huh. Wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm not, okay?" Mission retorted. "It's big, I mean, it's like, huge, but you're the same person I met back on Taris. And you keep fighting and coming back to us. You can fix this, Jen, you can fix your mistakes."

Revan laughed again, a jagged sound that put me in mind of shattering ferracrystal. "My mistakes? This isn't something you can just- just stick a plaster over! As far as I know, Mission, there's no way to bring billions of people back from the grave-"

"Jen-"

"And are you forgetting what I did when we arrived in Manaan airspace? Stars, what about Korriban when we found Bastila missing? If it hadn't been for you and Carth, I would have killed everyone in my way – Sith, or no." Her impassioned rant petered out into an agonized sigh. "I'm… I'm unstable, Mission."

"You're wrong, y'know," Mission countered, in a gentle voice. "It wasn't just us. I reckon if Bastila had been around, she coulda stopped you. Juhani woulda said something about the Force to make you listen – you always listen to her. Sheesh, if Zaalbar hadn't been all brain-fried, he woulda had some choice words to say – and he'd've made you hear them." The Twi'lek let out a frustrated breath of air. "And Jen, what about Canderous? Wouldn't you listen to him most of all? And if you didn't, I just bet he'd kick your arse until you did, scary Force powers or no. Don't you see? All of the crew have holds on you. And I reckon any one of us coulda pulled you back."

Hah! A Twi'lek teenager shows more wisdom than half the Council! Whatever had happened to Revan, she was being granted a true second chance… and going about it in a way the Order had likely not foreseen. For, I knew well, that it was the connections to others that were the very fabric of the Force itself. Love, in all of its forms, was the essence of everything. And those old fools would have every Padawan fear it.

The Jedi Order had lost a lot of strength the day they started preaching that emotional detachment was the way of the Light.

"Stars, Mission, I'd like to believe that, I really would…" the voice trailed off brokenly. "I can't- they deserve to know the truth, but-"

"You have to tell them, yeah… but I get you need some time. Look, Jen, if it helps then I reckon Canderous won't take it too bad, y'know?"

"Canderous?" There was a snort. I'd heard enough, I realized, and it was time to interrupt before the conversation got any more personal. "True. He'll be all sorts of proud that he's knocked the infamous Revan to the floor a dozen times."

Well, I'd better make a show of coming in before she senses me. Revan seemed to have a knack for doing that. I huffed, and strode the last few metres to my hut.

"Okay, ew, Jen, I don't need details, y'know-"

The Twi'lek halted in mid-sentence as I entered, and they both turned their heads. The Twi'lek was easy enough to read – she was disappointed at the interruption, but held no animosity toward me. Revan, on the other hand, simply appeared blank and cold. Apart from her eyes. She glanced away, but not before I recognized the depth of despair there.

The Order have really put her through the wringer, haven't they? And left her alone to deal with the fallout. Well, at least she's not running off in a black robe throwing lightning about. Yet.

No, I wouldn't be staying on Kashyyyk. I could see that now.

"You're back," Mission said. "Did you find what you were after?"

"Humph," I grumbled. "Not sure, really." I stared at Revan until she finally raised her gaze back to mine. The first question I'd planned on asking was the identity of her companion, the Light one I'd felt join with the Force hours ago. The one who – for a split second – had made me think of my old friend Zhar.

But it wasn't his lightsaber I'd found, in amongst the debris of that second confrontation.

"Mind explaining this?" I asked, lobbing the 'saber to Revan. She caught it with her uninjured arm, before looking down to stare at it. I heard a faint whistle of breath as she recognized it.

"My 'saber," she whispered. Her head jerked back up, green eyes narrowing. "You went back to the scene. Bandon must have taken it, when he first captured me."

"Your 'saber?" I threw back. "Look, pup, it's been a decade or four, but I recognize that hilt. The crystal's different, but I know who crafted that lightsaber, and it sure as Coruscant wasn't you."

"She gave it to me," Revan said, and her words turned cold and curt. A shiver rippled through her face before it turned blank. She closed her eyes, resting her head back against the wall. "As she lay dying. I'm sorry, Jolee, but Karon's dead. Zhar-" her voice cracked, a bit. "Zhar, too."

I turned away from her reflexively, from them both, as a hot and uncommon flare of anger burned deep within me. When I'd seen that lightsaber, I knew it meant Karon's demise. And where one found Karon, they usually found Zhar. They would have been Masters, no doubt, with Padawans of their own, soaking up their light and wisdom. I'd never expected to see either of them again, true, but they had been good friends to me. Both of them had pleaded for me to stay after Nayama-

I growled, walking over to the small bench on the far side of the room. There was a pot of day old stew that could be heated up, and a covered bowl of wasaka-berries that needed a wash to clear them of the dirt from harvesting. Karon and Zhar should have had decades upon decades of life left. The Force slowed aging, and both of them were so darn good, such decent beings that truly showcased what the Order could be. Should be.

"How?" I demanded, staring blankly at the berries. I'd gathered them a few days ago, and they were beginning to smell a bit pungent. Maybe I should throw them out. "How did they die? And what did you have to do with it?"

"Hey, Jen didn't-"

"Mission," Revan murmured, hushing her friend. She took in a deep sigh, and her voice turned clinical again. Like a tap, her mood switching on and off. "Karon was killed on Manaan by Kylah Aramai, a former Jedi Knight who led a squad of Dark Jedi to capture Bastila Shan. When I came on the scene, Kylah was in the process of defeating her. If I'd been there-"

She cut herself off, but not before I heard the guilt in her words. It probably wasn't justified, but heck – I'd just heard about the deaths of my two oldest friends. My brows slammed together, and I spun, glaring at the woman. "And Zhar?" I bit out.

Her voice turned to ice once more. "Killed some hours ago by Yudan Rosh and Bandon Stone." Her gaze met mine unflinchingly. "And my inaction."

I could feel her despair on the Force. It was fathomless, and completely at odds with the glacial look on her face. I snorted, and was gratified when I saw her blink. "You're telling me that you sat back while a couple of Dark Jedi ran my old friend through, and said Oh, don't mind me, I'll just watch the show?"

I could see her grit her teeth. "I didn't- I couldn't act, I just stood there like a stunned idiot and let them capture me and kill Zhar."

"You didn't act or you couldn't act? Because there's a world of difference between the two, young pup."

She looked away, and didn't answer. I took in a deep breath, feeling my anger slowly ebb as memories of my own past rose to haunt me. I had been sure of my path, I had been righteous, and still I had frozen in the face of the Dark Side.

Blame wouldn't resurrect Zhar or Karon. And the suffocating self-hatred rolling off Revan in waves would only end up driving her back down the same corrupted path she once owned.

I turned back to the bench, intent on making a small cooking fire. The Twi'lek murmured something consolingly to Revan, who didn't answer. I could stretch the leftover stew to the three of us, and it had to be better sustenance than whatever ration bars they had likely been filling their bellies with.

It didn't take long to heat and then ladle the steaming meal into three vessels, before pulling up a couple of crates next to the table. I gestured the two of them over, and Mission came willingly enough, but Revan-

She was staring at me with an expression of vague disbelief. It was more honest than the blank look she'd been sporting earlier.

"You're not going to press for more details?"

"Will it bring back the dead?" I retorted, folding my arms.

Her eyes narrowed. "Zhar had to face two top Dark Jedi alone because I was too- because I didn't- I couldn't- dammit, I should have been able to fight! He should still be alive!"

"Shoulds and what-ifs are a waste of time, young pup. If you stuffed something up, then learn from it and move on."

"You- I-" Revan stopped, scowling. "Zhar was an old, true friend of yours, and when I say I'm part to blame for his death your only response is to do better next time? Are you for real, Jolee Bindo?"

"Oh, you want a lecture? Then how about this," I snapped. "Self-flagellation is very Jedi, but it's also very destructive. If you truly want to make a difference, then pick yourself up and make one."

She didn't answer, but continued frowning at me through angry eyes. I took the fire in her expression as a healthy sign.

"Um, guys, can we just eat?" Mission asked, her voice tentative.

We broke our staring competition to look at the girl. She was sitting by the table, glancing between the two of us nervously. Her face was slack with exhaustion, and now that I surveyed her properly I could see the faint tracing of electrical burns marking her headtails. When my gaze returned to Revan, I noticed that the former Sith Lord's expression had softened.

"A spot of food followed by rest would be good for us all," I commented, before taking a seat next to the Twi'lek. "We can move on after that."

Revan hesitated for a moment, before her expression firmed and she joined us.

"Move on?" Mission echoed, frowning. "Where are we moving to?"

"You know what we're looking for," Revan said, her voice a low whisper.

I snorted. "There is nothing else on Kashyyyk. The problems of a few Wookiees don't amount to anything before the concerns of Force-users like you."

"Hey!" Mission interjected. There was an annoyed spike in her tone. "We are helping the Wookiees. Look, whatever you think about normal Jedi, Jen ain't one of them-"

"So where is it?" Revan's voice cut directly through the girl's, cold and hard and intent.

I turned, slowly, and met the fixed gaze of probably the most powerful Force-user in the galaxy. "It's some days walk away, depending on how fast we travel. I will take you there, but on my terms." This time. This time.

There was a distant look, then, that clouded the green eyes facing me, and I felt the current of Force power as it flowed from her. She stared blankly into the distance, her face turned in the approximate direction of the Force relic.

"This is where we part ways, Jolee Bindo," Revan said, her voice both clinical and emotionless. "Do not follow me any longer. I shall know if you do."

This was a part of the Shadowlands I'd never been to. Surprising, really, because I knew this area well. And yet, I felt a crawling sensation toe-dance down my spine, repelling me away from this area, suggesting that I turn around or find another way forward.

"Oh ho, your manner is fearsome. Like the little ullers I shoo from the garden, hissing at what they don't understand."

The Force rallied around her, quick and swift and terrible. A dark miasma of power of which I had never felt the likes of, and never wanted to again.

"Leave, Jolee Bindo, if you value your life. I do not give many a second warning."

The strength I felt was enough to make me step back, suddenly wary of my companion for the last few days. I could feel the darkness within her, the resoluteness to do what she must – and, for some reason, that meant doing it in secret.

And, now that I was conscious of it, I could feel the taint in the Shadowlands, driving me away from an area I had never thought to set foot into. An area I had always ignored, without realizing it.

I would come back, later - my own curiosity would compel me to. But for now… I could feel her conviction to act against me, if I stayed. It was absolute. Attempting to thwart her would probably end badly for me – and it wouldn't do her shadowed soul any favours, either.

So I left, in silence.

I cleared my throat, coming back to the present. I had gone back, many a time. But she'd re-programmed that darn computer… whatever secrets she'd uncovered, she didn't leave them easily accessible. Perhaps this time, I could discover what they were.

If she hasn't just worked out the relic's location herself, that is.

Revan was facing me again, her eyes dead and her face expressionless. Maybe her gaze had been coincidental. She wasn't exactly acting the most lucid, after all.

I turned back to my bowl of stew as my thoughts lingered over that obstinate computer and Force relic. It was alien to Kashyyyk, I was sure of it. Nowhere on this planet were there indications of any civilization having existed that could create technology that advanced. And it was located in the oldest part of the wroshyr forest, where the tallest and largest trees grew. Was there any relevance to that? Four years ago, Revan had implied there was.

We ate quietly, crowded over the small table. Mission was obviously exhausted, and her eyelids began to droop before she'd finished her small portion. It wasn't long before she curled up on the blankets in the corner. She'd sent Revan a plaintive, pleading glance the human obviously couldn't deny, for a moment later she was sitting quietly at Mission's side.

When the Twi'lek succumbed to slumber a short time later, Revan's expression hardened and she looked back to me.

"You'll take care of her," she stated, one arm resting gently around the Twi'lek's shoulder. "You'll make sure she stays safe."

Oh no, I'm not letting her go without a fight.

"We'll go together, young pup," I retorted. "You think running out on her is the right thing to do, after what she's been through? Caught in the middle of a Force duel? How well do you think she's going to take that, waking up to find you've skipped out on her?"

Her eyes darkened. "There's still a Dark Jedi out there, old man," she said. "I won't let him track me down when I'm around others. I won't let Mission get hurt again."

"That should be her choice, not yours," I replied. "Besides, don't lie to yourself. That's not the real reason you're running."

"It's a reason," she snapped back. "It's definitely in the top three."

I folded my arms and stared at Revan. Not surprisingly, she stared straight back. She always struck me as the resolute type; once she made up her mind, there was little budging her. "You know, you remind me of someone I used to know. Promising young man, great destiny. Breath like a bantha."

Her eyebrow quirked, but other than that, her face remained emotionless. "Did you annoy this person endlessly, too?"

"Oh ho ho, very funny," I said. She stood, disengaging herself from her young friend. I directed my strongest disapproving look at her. "Are you not even going to let an old man tell a tale? That's a bit heartless, don't you think?"

"I'll take a raincheck," she muttered. "If I see you again, I promise to listen for at least a whole minute."

"I could stop you," I said, throwing one last attempt out there. She was a damaged version of who she had once been, and I gambled on the slight chance that my bluff might hold some sway.

Revan turned a faint smile on me, and it was both sad and terrible. "No you couldn't," she whispered, and walked out the door.

xXx

Author's Note:

And with this chapter, I've broken the 500K word barrier. Yikes! It's taken that long to get Jolee in the picture! I hope y'all liked him. Let me know what you think :-)