Hyperspace: VI – part five


Jolee Bindo:

"Sublight drives are fine, but the repulsors are gonna make any sort of planetary landing a kriffing party," Canderous Ordo grumbled, as he switched auxiliary power on and surveyed the nav console with a vaguely distrustful expression. The turbine compressor began whirring to life under our feet. "And the recirculators are dodgy enough that I ain't keen to spend more than half a day in space."

"Do you want me to drive?" I asked, only part in mockery. I'd flown many a freighter, back in my time, and with a lot less moaning about it than him.

Though, to be fair, I'd never flown a freighter quite as banged up as this one.

The Mandalorian scowled at me. We'd exchanged only a handful of words so far, most of them cursing on his part when Revan and I had careened back to the Ebon Hawk lugging her second best buddy from the Dark Side. Heh. Canderous and I were both going to have some fancy words with Yudan Rosh when he came to.

I hope Revan's gambled the right way. She was torn about him, I could sense that much. And it didn't help that I'd stumbled onto her and her crew when she was in the thick of the sort of revelations one could make a holo-soap about. She'd been over the edge, back on that cruiser. Ain't no denying it. Revan still has the same darkness within her.

But she wasn't as… hard, or calculating, as the woman I'd met four years ago - the leader who hadn't yet fallen, but was well on her way. The one who'd been spat out the other side of the Mandalorian Wars.

This woman… this woman was more tormented, naturally; more flawed - but somehow, the scars hadn't stiffened and scabbed over into the same clinical detachment. Bah, I don't know. Despite the short time I'd known her, I found myself already invested.

Canderous was leaning over to jab at what I thought was the ship's intercom. "Mission," he growled into the mic, "make sure your bucket droid is doing all he can to stabilize the ship. Even get kriffing HK, if he can help. I'm about to launch, so snap to it and buckle up."

I wasn't sure if it had been chance that'd made HK-47 encounter Revan and me, as we'd stumbled blindly through the floundering Leviathan. With the heavy cruiser falling apart, and sentients running in all directions, I'd been unable to sense the presence of Juhani. Her Force signature was the homing beacon I'd been counting on, and without it I was little more than a mink-rat in a maze.

And Revan herself hadn't been in any state to do more than dazedly follow my lead.

Then, from the depths of a darkened corridor, that robot with the badly-programmed attitude appeared and started mouthing off - while simultaneously hovering around Revan and leading the way back.

I'd gleaned that HK – with an autonomy that should be alien to a droid – had decided to leave the 'Hawk in search of Revan, once the rest of the crew had secured the ship. I don't like to think on our chances if he'd stayed put. Heh. Never thought I'd see the day I'm indebted to a darn droid.

Any other piece of machinery wouldn't bother me. This one was annoying enough without me owing my life to it.

There was a loud reverberation as the 'Hawk's engines kicked into gear, and a self-diagnostic beeped on the console. I frowned as multiple lines of red blinked at me.

"Mand'alor's balls," Canderous muttered in disgust, leaning over to eye-ball it tandem. "Oh well. I suppose I've flown in worse."

He sent a final comm to the crew about take-off, and his hands tapped over the control panels. I heard a discordant rumble as the repulsors charged, and felt an uneven wobble throughout the freighter as it slowly began to rise.

But it rose.

The twin sets of docking bay doors were operating under evacuation procedures, which meant automatic sensors – so there was nothing stopping the Ebon Hawk as it began to limp away from the faltering cruiser and out into space.

Flashes of light scored against a backdrop of stars as we cleared the external doors.

And ahead was another heavy cruiser just as behemoth as the one at our back.

"Right," Canderous muttered. "My plan is an emergency landing on Carpet's overgrown planet, as I have serious doubts about this ship holding together for long. Somehow, though, I don't think the Republic are gonna play nice."

An incoming transmission bleeped on the comm console. Canderous barked a short laugh, and motioned for me to answer it.

::Ebon Hawk, you are ordered to dock with the Meridus immediately. Two squads of class-e snubfighters are incoming to flank you. The slightest deviation of your flight path will result in us opening fire. Lack of confirmation to this transmission will have the same effect. Ebon Hawk, confirm receipt of this transmission now.::

"Good thing our comms aren't down this time," Canderous grumbled. "But they can all go leap into a sarlacc pit, far as I'm concerned." He shot me a hard, flinty stare. "Alright, old man, check out the pre-programmed hyperspace jumps, and let me know the closest one. I'll answer the kriffing Republic."

I raised an eyebrow, but leaned forward to do as bid.

"Meridus, this is Canderous Ordo. We have injured parties onboard, and require an immediate medical transfer. Lead us to your docking bay, and we'll follow."

The Ebon Hawk had five hard-coded hyperpoints, all with thousands of different jump-routes so they could be selected from most of known space. It was a safe-guard, an escape route if things turned dicey – for mapping out a new hyper-route could take precious minutes, or longer, if the nav computer had issues calculating the best path.

Hard-coded routes took a lot of drive data, and were most common amongst smuggling vessels. Obviously, this little freighter had a bit of history behind it.

I recognized Tatooine and Nar Shaddaa, Corellia and Taris. Trade spots and smuggling runs. There was a final one that was unfamiliar.

"The closest coordinate is less than a seven hour jump, but there's no information listed about it. No telling if it's a planet or an asteroid belt or the centre of a star."

"We don't have time to map out another route," Canderous said. "But we need to jump, now, and the longer the jump, but worse our chances the 'Hawk will falter in hyperspace. And that's usually game over. What's the next closest?"

"Nar Shaddaa," I answered. "A little over five days. Humph. Are you sure you want to risk this? The 'Hawk ain't a happy ship, you know." Even having switched to sublights, the engine still sounded dodgy to my old ears. "It may very well tear itself apart in the entry to hyperspace."

Canderous snorted. "I ain't handing myself or the crew over to some greying Republic admin."

The nav comm blinked again, and I flicked the receive switch.

::Ebon Hawk, medical intervention will be granted upon docking. Continue your path to the Meridus. Any deviation will result in us opening fire.::

"Huh," I said, leaning back. "They're persistent blighters. I thought only old men like myself were allowed to repeat themselves."

"Plug in the unknown course." The Mandalorian's voice had turned serious. "Let's try our luck. If I can do anything about it, we ain't dying today."

Well. I had to approve of his attitude.

The ship's computer immediately routed the remembered jump point from our current location, as Canderous aimed the freighter directly at the Dreadnought-class cruiser. Idly, I wondered if I felt the Force once more at work.

Heh. I haven't had this much excitement since I almost caught the Faceless one in a katarn pit. Pity I'd never got my hands on him, in the end.

As Canderous increased the sublight drives to full power, I activated the hyperjump at his nod, and the Ebon Hawk gave a loud groan of mechanical complaint as it shot towards the Meridus.

At the last instant, it lurched into hyperspace.

xXx

"Sheesh! I can't believe we're all outta there in one piece!" Mission exclaimed as I wandered in from the cockpit. She was hugging her knees on a plimfoam bench in the common room, presumably having wriggled out from the safety harness the moment the freighter wobbled into hyperspace. Next to her, Revan was currently face-planted onto the plasticeel table. Someone had covered her with a blanket.

I sent out a diagnostic feather of Force. Just sleeping. She's probably gonna regret doing it in that position though.

"(We were lucky to escape,)" the Wookiee rumbled softly, wedged in on the other side of Revan. His attention was dolefully fixed on her. "(All of us, intact.)"

The Mandalorian had followed me into the room, and directed his next words at the young Twi'lek.

"Wake Jen up, ad'ika. There's some things to discuss."

"Aw, man, Canderous, can't ya just leave her alone?" Mission griped, shooting him an accusatory glare. "She's exhausted. Look at her. She's fallen asleep on her face."

"Yeah," the Mandalorian commented in a dry voice. "I can see that with the way she's drooling all over the table."

"Eh, doesn't hurt to let the lass catch a few hours kip." I threw my two credits in, while eyeballing the fandangled percolator on the bench next to the mush maker. I couldn't think that caffa machines had changed awfully much since I'd settled down on Kashyyyk, but this one boasted a lot more lights and dials than should be necessary to make a simple brew.

"One thing I've learned on this trip is not to put off kriffing conversations," Canderous Ordo growled, stomping over to me and jabbing at the smallest button on the side. The percolator blinked on, and began to whir as he shoved a chipped plasticeel mug in a tray underneath it. "The second thing is that Jen likes caffa almost as much as Onasi."

"When's my dad gonna wake up?" the second teenager in the room muttered, his arms folded as he hunched on Mission's other side. I hadn't caught the boy's name, but where the Twi'lek girl was ebullient and optimistic, he instead came across as wary, hunted and a trifle hard. "He hasn't moved since Zaalbar dumped him in his quarters. I don't even get what's wrong with him. I saw frakking Karath in that room. Saul Karath, dead from a blaster shot! Who killed him? And what did he do to my dad?"

I stepped to the side, towards the young Cathar Jedi who was leaning against the wall, and left the overly complicated machine to the Mandalorian. "Your father was hit by a hibernative stasis, lad. It ain't too deep. He'll be waking up soon."

"Stasis?" the boy parroted. He turned a narrow gaze on me. "You mean, from one of the-" he stopped, frowning. "You're a Jedi, too, aren't you?" he accused. "Can't you wake him up?"

"Dustil, I believe we are all exhausted," Juhani said quietly. "Your father is fine. It's the others on this ship we have to worry about." She was staring at Revan in concern, before her gaze sharpened with wariness and darted towards the makeshift medbay I'd strapped yonder Dark Jedi into before take-off.

I liked what I'd seen of the Cathar. She struck me as a principled sort, over the brief time we'd travelled together in the Shadowlands. Jedi Knight, she said. Huh. I wonder what her home Enclave is. I'll be interested to find out.

I'd left the Jedi Order a long time ago - and I could admit, now, that part of the reason was an overly inflated sense of self-importance with a dab of petulance on the side. Only part of it, mind. The rest was definitely the Order being a bunch of hypocritical arses.

"I suppose we may as well talk about that one before Jen here smells the caffa and wakes up," Canderous grumbled, jerking a thumb towards Yudan Rosh's temporary quarters. He levelled a scowl at me. "Haar'chak, what were you two thinking, bringing him onboard?"

"Canderous, did you not first-" Juhani began delicately, only to be cut off.

"Don't even start, kittycat. That lying shabuir tricked-"

I cleared my throat loudly. These days, I often had enough phlegm to make quite the racket. I've forgotten how noisy a shipload of people can be, I thought in mild irritation, wondering if the Wookiee beheld the same impressions. "I ain't defending Yudan Rosh, but he gave a pretty solid reason for betraying both me and you, Canderous Ordo."

"Yudan Rosh?" the boy called Dustil spluttered. And, abruptly, I was aware of an upsurge of power swirling around the lad, all the more noticeable when I realized he'd been completely absent in the Force beforehand. "Ordo said his name before- frakk- you don't mean to say he is actually onboard?"

I frowned, my gaze stilling on Dustil Onasi. He's quite powerful. How did I not sense that earlier?

"Solid reason, huh?" Canderous Ordo muttered. He was walking back to the table with a steaming cup of caffa. It didn't look like he'd made it for me. "This better be good."

"Frakk!" Dustil swore, his eyes rounding as he swivelled to gape at the closed hatch. "I can sense him in the frakking medbay! Why is nobody else flipping out about this?"

"That's the Mando Dark Jedi from earlier, right?" Mission piped in. "Okay, so he's a bit of a ronto-turd. But seriously, Dustil, chill out. Between you and Jen and Juhani- and sheesh, even old man Bindo- I don't reckon we've got anything to worry about."

"One thing he ain't is a kriffing Mando'ade," Canderous growled, placing down the cup of caffa a centimetre from Revan's face. He stared at her for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I give her two minutes, max, before that rouses her."

Zaalbar leaned over the table and nudged the hot mug away slightly, as if he were concerned it might burn the woman's nose in her sleep. I took note of that small movement. Even now, it was obvious the ties of loyalty Revan had bound to herself.

"I will remain on guard," Juhani said softly. "After all, Yudan Rosh did betray us to the Sith."

"Of course he did!" Dustil spluttered again. The expression on the kid's face- it was fright and alarm, undercut by a gleam of awe. It was the awe that had me wondering. Teenage Force-users from the Order did not generally feel that way about powerful Dark Jedi. "It's bleeding Yudan Rosh! Do any of you actually understand who he is?"

Maybe it's time to cut to the chase, I thought, turning back to eye over the Mandalorian. "If he hadn't blurted out I was a Force-user, then his game would've been up," I interrupted. "There was another Dark Jedi in the docking bay, you know. And we Force-users have this annoying habit of being able to sense each other." My gaze slid back to the younger Onasi. "Well. Usually we do. I'm starting to think there might be some exceptions to that."

The boy blinked at me, before ducking his head. I'm going to find out about that one. Before my curiosity gets the better of me.

"Doesn't explain why he dobbed me in, though, does it?" the Mandalorian asked, dropping onto the edge of the tattered bench with a thwump. The room was crowded, I realized, even with Juhani and I both standing.

"Well, he said your name like it was someone important." I shrugged. "Something about his lot not believing you'd turn on Jen. That make any sense to you?"

"Huh," Canderous grunted, but there was a considering gleam in his eye.

A soft groan emitted from the table, and all attention turned to Revan. The tousled head moved, ever so slightly, and Zaalbar leaned over to push the steaming cup even further away.

"As I said before," I continued. "I'm not defending him or anything he's done in the past. But he did have something to do with Jen escaping." I looked back to Dustil. "And that, in turn, allowed her to save your father from what I'd say was certain death back there."

"But Dustil rescued the rest of us," Mission said, and she turned a look of such teenage gratitude on the poor boy that he blushed scarlet. "That was absolutely wizard, by the way."

"(You acted with honour, and we all owe you a debt)," Zaalbar said quietly. Dustil shot him an uncomprehending glance, managing to look even more uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Dustil Onasi," Juhani added. "Actions are the mirror of a person's soul. I once told you that I could not forgive the past… perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you are more brave and honourable than you realize."

"You did well, Sithkid," Canderous commented, with a faint smirk. "But don't let it go to your head."

"Sithkid?" I asked, a faint memory of the same moniker being used in a comm to Mission. "Now that nickname sounds like an interesting story."

"Um," Dustil began, frowning at me in suspicion. "Leave me alone?" From the way he said it, I wasn't sure if it was a request or statement. Bah. It wasn't going to deter me. That young man had well and truly caught my interest.

"Caffa," Revan mumbled, and a hand shot out sleepily over the table.

"(Sit up, Jen. It's hot,)" Zaalbar warned, and I was surprised to see her automatically obey the Wookiee, with only a mild groan of complaint. Once the cup was firmly in her grasp, she looked slowly around the room, as if needing the time to orientate herself.

Revan's eyes closed, and the faint look of despair lined her face. I felt the emotion echo on the Force. "I guess you all have some questions," she said, taking a blind sip of her brew.

"Yeah," Canderous agreed. "There's things to talk about, I'd say. But you could do with a status update first."

I watched the woman take a deep breath, as if fortifying herself, and then open her eyes to stare fixedly at him. "Please," she said, but her voice was firm, and the underlying tone of command was there.

"Right. We're six hours out from a pre-programmed hyperpoint none of us recognize. If the Republic find us, they'll be shooting on sight along with the Sith. Our repulsors are half-fried and the stabilizers are shot, meaning our hyperspace exit is gonna be dicey at best. Oh, and forty percent of the recirculators are down."

Revan had dropped her head back into her hands. "Balls of a rancor," she muttered, her voice muffled.

"Jen!" Mission sniggered. "Ew!"

I could feel myself frowning in disapproval. "Ain't no excuse for poor manners, young pup. I don't care if you're a janitor or a Senate Councillor. It ain't hard to mind your tongue."

"That's nothing, you should hear Mekel," the younger Onasi muttered under his breath.

"So," Revan continued, lifting her head again. "We're hoping there's some facility or planet at this hyperpoint that can fix the ship?"

"In a nutshell, yeah. The bucket droid's working on the recirculators, under the supervision of your faithful assassination robot." Canderous snorted, but there was a slight grin of approval on his face. "You should've seen the pile of corpses on this ship. Some techs, some guards. There'll be a good amount of salvage on that. We made HK shift them to the cargo bay, but we gotta do something about the bodies before they stink the place out."

"I told HK not to let anyone on board," Dustil said. "Man, he's annoying. I thought droids were meant to obey orders?"

"HK's a special sorta droid," Mission said, rolling her eyes. "Sheesh, I've lost count of the number of times Carth's threatened to dump him out the airlock."

"Carth," Revan whispered, and her gaze travelled to the hatch that led to the pilot's quarters. She swallowed. "How is he?"

"Why don't you go see for yourself?" Dustil snapped, a look of belligerence crossing his face. "I mean, from the way you two were sucking face earlier, I'm surprised you're not at his side right now."

Oh ho! Now that's an interesting development! And the boy's angst over his father's love-life was nothing on what was to come when he learnt the whole truth. Although, let's not forget his reaction to Yudan Rosh. That wasn't entirely negative. Huh. I probably shouldn't be finding this quite as amusing as I did, but I couldn't help a lingering desire for a bowl of popping corn.

Meanwhile, Revan's horrified gaze had shot to Dustil, and her cheeks flamed a deeply embarrassed crimson.

"Dustil!" Mission squeaked, her eyes round. She glanced over to Canderous in fright, while the Mandalorian looked torn between exasperation and mild amusement. "Um, seriously? Jen is- Jen and Canderous-"

The hatch opened. And we all, as one, turned to survey the bedraggled figure outlined in the doorway.

Carth Onasi certainly seemed the worse for wear. He'd belted on a jacket over a singlet and shorts, and still managed to appear woefully underdressed. The man looked exhausted and deeply bitter, and his gaze was intently fixed on Revan.

Aw, heck. He knows, and it didn't go down well.

"Dad!" Dustil clambered to his feet, and in a singular motion ran over to launch his arms around the man.

"Dustil? I-" Carth's eyes closed briefly as his arms wound tight around his son. One, two seconds later, and the troubled teenager was already disentangling himself, like he hadn't been the one to sprint over to his father in the first place. And as the boy retreated, Carth's gaze returned once more to Revan. "I guess you weren't lying about him, then," he said quietly.

The shame rolling off Revan was hot and palpable on the Force. I could see the Cathar's nose wrinkle in reaction, and Dustil twitch in surprise.

"No," Revan whispered. "Dustil snuck onboard. He- your son saved everyone, Carth."

"The crystal," Carth said abruptly. His mouth was fixed in a firm line of simmering anger. "That, too? Or was that the droids?"

Revan shook her head. She looked, in a word, miserable. "That was Yudan Rosh."

"Who's onboard, by the way," Dustil muttered, stepping back to sit down next to Mission. The Twi'lek was biting her lip, glancing back and forth between Revan and Carth.

"What?" Carth snapped. "You've got to be kidding! Tell me that's some sort of sick joke-"

"I know, right?" Dustil added. "I mean, no one else seems to get who he is! I mean, frakk!"

"Pipe down before you embarrass yourself, Sithkid," Canderous growled. "You ain't the only one with a second chance here."

"He's on the same level as Darth frakking Bandon!" Dustil protested, his voicing edging higher. "That insane gimboid used to visit the Academy! You lot have no idea the sort of things he used to do! Or how powerful Dark Jedi that far up the food chain actually are!"

Revan shot me a look, then, and I could read it clear as the age spots on my arms. Part of her – irrational, she likely knew – wanted to blame this on me. For I could have left her there, spared her this, back on the Leviathan.

Ah, but that's living, ain't it? You got to face up to the music.

"Bandon's dead, Dustil," Revan said quietly. She dropped her gaze to stare down at the table, at her maimed hand resting on the chipped surface. It looked to be healing well, but I wondered on her arm and shoulder. I'd have to see to her again, and soon, if I didn't spend all my energy on her comatose friend. "I killed him down in the Shadowlands. At least that's some good news, huh?"

"We've got a bigger issue to deal with here," Carth cut in, his voice dark and low. He was still glaring at her bowed head.

"Bigger? Seriously, Dad, bigger?"

"They deserve to know the truth about you," Carth continued, completely ignoring his son's incredulity. "Do you want to tell them, or should I?"

"Let me guess," Canderous drawled. "She wears jockeys underneath her armour."

"Not the time to be making jokes, Mandalorian." The man's voice was dead. As dead as the gaze he still levelled on the former Sith Lord.

"And I never pegged you for a drama queen either, Republic. You want to give her a chance to find the words, first?"

Revan's shoulders hunched. I saw the Wookiee rest a comforting paw on her shoulder, but she merely flinched at that, her head raising to shoot both Zaalbar and the Cathar an appalled glance of horror.

"You know," Carth hissed, swivelling to stare at the Mandalorian. He gave a bitter sort of laugh; cold and hard. "Hah. All this time- you've known, haven't you, Mandalorian? That's what all those damn sparring fights were about? Testing yourself against the likes of her? I guess you thought this was the greatest thing you'd ever heard!"

Revan flinched again, and her gaze shot up to Carth's in desperation. "Carth-"

Canderous growled. "Don't assume anything about my kind, Republic, unless you're looking for a fight-"

"Stop it," Juhani cut in, her voice quiet, but intense enough to scythe through the burgeoning display of testosterone. "This is not the time."

Carth wrenched his eyes back to Revan. "Well?" he demanded.

She swallowed, ignoring everyone else in the room as she returned his gaze. It had to be hard, I realized. "The- the- Bastila," she whispered. She directed her voice to Carth, but it swept around the room like a breaker of revelation. "You all know she and I share a Force-bond. What some of you don't know is that it- it came about when she saved my life. I have no memory of the time, but it's a pretty famous story. She- she boarded my flagship with a group of Jedi, and I understand Malak fired on us at this time."

And, still, her gaze never wavered from Carth's dead one. There was an audible intake of air from the younger Onasi as he began to connect the dots.

With a shaky breath, Revan continued. "I hear I was a wreck, mentally speaking. The Jedi decided to, to- save me or use me, I'm not sure- but they implanted another identity in my head." A dark, harsh laugh escaped her. "Jen Sahara doesn't exist; she did, once, but I killed her. Tortured her into death. She was a Force-sensitive, and I've been told we liked playing with the Force-sensitives."

She laughed again, and it was a truly broken sound. Her eyes closed and her head dropped. "My real name is Revan."

The silence that followed was downright deafening.

I couldn't help but glance around the room in morbid curiosity. Mission had already known, of course, and while there was a definite shine of fear about her, the look of concern in her brown eyes was stronger.

Grim acceptance lined the Mandalorian's face, and the Cathar was staring at Revan with nothing but soulful empathy shining in her slanted eyes. Huh. Not quite the reaction I expect from a Jedi who had been ignorant of the truth.

Dustil, in contrast, had pushed himself hard back against the wall, staring at Revan in horrified disbelief. I had the feeling that Yudan Rosh had been completely pushed from his mind, right about now.

It was harder to tell with the Wookiee, but his raised paw was hovering over Revan in the same familial concern as earlier.

And Carth- Ach. Well, young love can certainly tear at the heart. I'd been there, once before. Only difference was, my wife had never desired nor been granted a second chance.

"Well?" Carth demanded, at long last. There'd been obvious heartbreak on his face, before it hardened into bitterness. The man cared for her, despite what he was busy telling himself. "Isn't anyone going to say something?"

Canderous snorted. "Sure. Did someone remember to refill the synthesizer on Kashyyyk? Because, again, no one bothered to pick up fresh supplies-"

There was a snarl from the Republic soldier at that, and Revan's shoulders hitched further.

"Dammit, Ordo, you may not care that you've been following a blasted Sith Lord, but do you really think the others are going to be so quick to get over it?"

"Carth." Mission's voice was tiny, but it was enough to grab the soldier's attention. "Look. I knew, okay? I found out the same time as Jen, down in the Shadowlands. I guess we've had more time to come to terms with-"

"Come to terms with it?" Carth whispered. "How do you- how do you come to terms with something like this?"

"Well," the young teenager looked back to Revan, and shuffled closer, enough so they were almost touching. I could see the fear, again, spark through the Twi'lek's face, and it made me understand just how brave the girl was. She had the inner strength, I thought, to choose the course of action she desired, and follow through on it. "You scare me, Jen. I ain't gonna lie about that. But- you're my friend, as well. And it seems like you jus' keep coming through for me, and if there's ever a time you need your friends at your back, it's right now I reckon. I won't let you down, Jen."

"(I have learned a lot about different sorts of honour and dishonour while travelling with you, Jen Sahara,)" Zaalbar added. He gave a huff. "(I follow the person you are now, not the one you were. There are times you have worried me. But you are not madclaw. And if I can fulfil the terms of my lifedebt by chasing the shadows of madness from you, then I will call it a fair redressing.)" There was a pause. "(And I will do all I can to rescue your bond-sister. That I shall not forget.)

"I- I told him, Jen," Mission admitted, casting her eyes down bashfully. Revan still had hers bowed, but she gave the tiniest nod of acknowledgment in return. "On the Leviathan. I mean, I know I said you had to do it- but, sheesh, I thought we were all bantha fodder back there. And Big Z- I figured he had right to know, y'know? With the lifedebt and all." She cast a mildly irate look at the furry Wookiee, over Revan's tousled head. "Not that you seem to really get it, you ignorant hairball."

"It's Revan, Mission. Not Jen, but the former Sith Lord who's slaughtered millions-"

"Look, I get that, okay?" Mission shot back tartly. And on her other side, the younger Onasi had his eyes round as food plates, his gaze landing on the different speakers like a flutter-gnat drawn to the light. Every now and then he'd look back to Revan, bent silently over the table, and I wasn't entirely sure if it was hatred or veneration that darkened his gaze when that happened. "But she's Jen to me, not a Sith Lord. She's my friend who's been with me through thick and thin-"

"Jen Sahara is a lie, Mission!" Carth cried. "You heard her! Jen Sahara is a dead women, just another casualty of the war she brought on the Republic-"

"For the love of Mand'alor, I need a kriffing drink before all this wailing does my head in," Canderous muttered, before stomping out of the room.

Mission shifted closer to Revan again, this time nudging her. "What- what do you remember, Jen?"

"Small bits." Revan's voice was muffled. "Strange dreams and visions. Feelings."

"Just a few flashes?" Mission replied. "That's it? Nothing more?"

"Mission, I'm not Jen Sahara." The woman looked up, her head turning to face the unabashed teenager who sat next to her, and offered friendship like it was the most natural thing in the galaxy. Heh. Maybe it is. "Carth's right about that. I may not recall my past, but I know I'm the same woman I once was. The one who ended up falling to the Dark Side and destroying everything I cared for."

"But you're not bad right now." Mission wrinkled her nose. "And it- it kinda seems to me- that, that the one sure-fire way to bring Darth poodoo back would be if we all deserted you now."

"Sometimes, kid, I think you should be on the Jedi Council," I commented, pushing back from the wall and sliding into the unoccupied seat the Mandalorian had vacated. "I suppose it's my turn to say something pithy about Revan not being a Sith Lord so much as a vagabond who needs to wash behind her ears and have her head knocked on straight. But that ain't gonna help much, is it?"

I paused, then, allowing the woman time to meet my eyes. "You know what your next steps are, Revan, and the mess only you can clean up is waiting for you. Malak. Bastila. That thing you're after, out there in space somewhere." I sighed, staring straight into the torn green eyes that didn't leave mine. "You're lucky enough to find friends again who'll support you. But I wasn't just throwing words around when I said there'll come a time when there's no turning back. The Dark Side is a slippery slope an' all that, and loyalty and faithfulness eventually erode. So make the right choice. Stay true. And lean on your friends when you need 'em."

She blinked, her gaze narrowing. "We met before, didn't we?" she whispered. "Years ago?"

"Oh ho! So you do remember something of that?"

"No." The tiniest shake of her head. The briefest wisp of a word. "An educated guess."

I harrumphed. "Huh. I'll have to tell you about it someday, then. In short, yes. You were running around like a mad kath pup at the bottom of the forest. Well, wasn't my place to go blurting it out to the rest of you." I looked around the room, and Carth Onasi was staring at me in blazing incredulity. "Better that it's out in the open though, if you ask me."

"So, you're staying with us then, old man?" Mission asked.

"Well, I'm not traipsing back to Kashyyyk," I grumbled. "The food is terrible. Do you know you can survive on jarinn grubs alone?" I shuddered. "Not pleasant. And it gives you the runs- uh, nevermind."

"(Jarinn grubs are a delicacy of my people, Jolee Bindo. But they should not be eaten in excess,)" Zaalbar chided. "(Even the youngest cub knows that.)"

I raised a brow at him. "I'll keep that in mind next time I'm starving in the Shadowlands."

"This doesn't phase you at all?" The soldier's voice rose in pitch as he addressed me. "You're a Jedi, or you were once. And you're absolutely fine travelling with Darth Revan? Are you off your rocker, old man?"

"Not yet, but I did know this Rodian once who made the most amazing-"

"Jolee Bindo," Juhani's voice, low and intense, once more silenced the room. "Your propensity for teasing others is inappropriate at this juncture."

I turned to face her; she'd been silent for the most part, but right now she was levelling me with what I'd classify a disapproving look. Hah! I had about six decades on her!

"And Carth," the Cathar continued, her voice gentling. "It is shocking. It is a major revelation that is difficult for anyone to take in. But I begin to see that the rest of us have had time to process it. Canderous and I have been aware for some time." And she turned to lay a look of such compassion at Revan that my grumble at her rebuke stalled on the edges of my lips.

Revan's intake of air was loudly audible, and her eyes were glistening as they rose to meet Juhani's.

"Jen. Revan." The Cathar gifted her with a gentle smile that shone with unconditional acceptance. "I have felt the presence of the Dark Side within you, as it has fought within me, within Dak, and within Dustil. I know how the fallen can be redeemed, and that while it is a difficult path, it is worth the pain. You have shown me that, my friend. You found me lost on Tatooine, and pointed me toward the light. Together we guided each other through our trials on Korriban. I will not give up on you, as you have never given up on me."

The charged moment was shattered by the Mandalorian striding back into the room. "This is the last of my kriffing booze," he muttered, slamming down a bottle of something golden before turning to retrieve a tumbler from the cupboards. "Ad'ika, assuming we survive the hyperspace exit and our next dock – wherever the kriff that may be – your job is to re-stock the shelves and the mush-maker. Put some Corellian whiskey on that list, okay?"

"Oy, get an old man a glass while you're at it," I called out. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had anything other than fermented wasaka-berry juice?"

"You all knew," Carth said flatly. His gaze was dark and anguished as it landed on everyone in turn. "And no one thought it was worth even talking about. I can't believe you all- you all knew!"

His son coughed awkwardly. "Um. I didn't."

"I can't- I need some time alone," Carth muttered. He shot one last, deeply bitter glance at Revan, before turning on his heel.

"Hyperspace exit in less than six hours, Republic," Canderous said, his voice unruffled as he calmly poured a drink and handed it to me. "Much as I'd like to laud my piloting skills, we ain't got no idea where we're headed and the 'Hawk's a mess."

"I know how to do my damn job, Ordo," Carth said, his back to the room. "Stay out of my cockpit."

And the hatch closed behind him. His son directed another wide-eyed stare of horror at Revan, before stumbling after him.

When the hatch closed a second time, it was Revan's turn to stagger to her feet. She pulled the blanket around herself tight, and the hunted look on her face was decidedly uncharacteristic. "I- I need to be on my own for a bit," she mumbled, squirming her way past Mission and heading out the other side of the room.

The rest of us stared in silence after her.

"The one thing that woman doesn't need right now is to be on her own," I grumbled. "I wasn't just talking to hear my own voice. She's going to need her friends."

"I shall go," Juhani murmured. "I shall watch over her. You keep an eye on the Dark Jedi, Jolee Bindo. Redemption should be offered to us all, but we cannot be blind to the very real threat he may pose."

In a sleek, graceful movement, the Cathar slid away from the wall and stalked after Revan.

"Bah," I muttered, as the hatch closed. The drink in my hand was pungent, and I was starting to think fermented wasaka-berry juice might be preferable. "I'd forgotten how much Jedi liked to order people around."

"You shoulda met Bastila then." Mission giggled. "Although I gotta say, Juhani's come a long way from killing animals on Tatooine, right?"

The girl kept nattering before I had a chance to probe that curious comment. "Hey, Canderous, wanna pour me a drink?"

"Dunno, kid, this stuff will knock your headtails off," Canderous said, his voice dry as he took a swig. The man didn't even grimace, so maybe it wasn't that bad. I took a cautionary sip, and immediately began spluttering.

"Hey, so I'm okay to buy you booze, but not to drink it with you?" Mission complained indignantly. It took a moment for the foul drink to finish burning the lining of my stomach, and when I looked up through watering eyes, it was to see her pouting with pure teenage mulishness. How did Revan end up with a teenager onboard? One thing I did know – teenagers would find a way to do what they wanted, regardless. And heck, experience was a lot better than advice anyway.

"Have mine," I offered, sliding the tumbler across the table and ignoring the Wookiee's immediate howl of protest. "It's disgusting. Enjoy. I'm going to have a proper look around this ship."

It'd been a hair-raising jaunt off Kashyyyk, and an even worse one fleeing the Leviathan. Still, someone could've at least shown me the darn refresher.

And as I meandered out the port exit of the common room, the last thing I heard was the bright chatter of the Twi'lek girl, once more.

"So, Canderous… uh, I guess you and Jen aren't a thing then, huh?"

xXx

Davis Tar'coya

The blue speck on the holo-map winked out.

"Um," a nearby tech said hesitantly.

"Ah, crap," I cursed, knowing exactly what had happened.

The little green Jedi Master straightened, shooting a bright-eyed glance at Forn Dodonna. I could see some tripe about the Force's will about to spew forth from him, and apparently so could Forn, because her face blazed with righteous ire, and one hand jabbed forward to point at him in warning.

"Not a word, Vandar," she ordered. "Not. One. Word."

I had to say, for a human, Dodonna wasn't all that bad.

"Confirm reason for disappearance of the Ebon Hawk," I barked at the tech.

"Sensors show successful hyperspace entry, sir."

We should have shot on sight, Forn. The Sith may have failed to capture the prize, but so did we.

The prize had to be Kylah Aramai - that turned, half-human Jedi who'd betrayed Bastila Shan to Malak. It couldn't be the likes of Bandon Stone, Yudan Rosh or Nisotsa Organa – Forn had mused on one of those bastards being in command of the Leviathan. The only other suspect that came to mind was Sharlan Nox, but the intense interest from the Jedi Order made me suspect it was a fallen one from their ranks.

I shouldn't be thinking on it, as I hadn't been granted the damn clearance to know. But still, my thoughts whirled.

Or… what if Bastila Shan herself has succumbed to the Dark Side? And is now running amok?

It was certainly possible. I had little respect for the fortitude of Force-users, and the human ones were the worst. They, without fail, made up the largest chunk of the ones that turned bad.

I knew my attitude was frowned upon, and had likely cost me an Admiralship. I was as experienced as Forn, having partaken in countless battles during the Mandalorian Wars, and been a greenling at the close of the Kun conflict.

Once, I'd believed in the Jedi. I'd reported directly to Revan Freeflight and Malak Devari. I'd worked alongside Captain Karath, before his leap up the ranks.

I'd thought a damn supernova shone out their collective arses.

I'd been a starry-eyed idiot.

Unlike me, Forn knew how to be diplomatic. But I found I didn't have time for that crap anymore.

"No telling who's on board, other than the Mandalorian," the human Jedi Master muttered. He, at least, looked decidedly less joyous than Vandar Tokare.

Forn snorted, an uncommon display of informality from her. "I believe we can safely assume, Vrook. The question is where they'll be going next."

"The Force is at work here," Vandar murmured. "To the Star Forge, they will be going. To face Malak, to fix the mistakes of the past."

There was a gusty sigh from Vrook. "Maybe, Vandar. Or maybe someone is just going down the same path-"

"Faith, Vrook," Vandar interrupted. "Faith in the Force, we must all keep."

"It's quite an assumption to think they'll be headed there," Forn interrupted. "Our only true ally onboard is Carth Onasi, and we have no idea if he survived."

"Doesn't really matter either way, does it?" I said. "The Ebon Hawk is not what's important, in the grand scheme of things. We've got to focus on taking out the Star Forge."

That schematic had been an eye-opener. Our best engineers – who weren't currently involved with taking down the Leviathan – were poring over the information Captain Carth Onasi had sent to the Republic. It looked to be a highly sophisticated starship factory, although the power source had yet to be identified.

The factory was the core of Revan Freeflight's ascendance to super villainy. And now, it was Malak Devari's keystone. We'd be aiming for it, and we'd damn well take it out.

Revan's dead. Karath will be soon, if he's not already. And then we'll put an end to Malak. That'll be the three of them, finally, dead and burned. The three I had once all but worshipped.

"Ion reactor explosion detected on Leviathan," a Rodian muttered from behind a console.

"Bogey squad one has been eliminated," another tech piped in. "There's only one snub left from bogey squad three… oh, and they're doing a runner."

Back on the holo-map, dozens of smaller blue flecks were swarming around the Leviathan. Escape pods. Evac orders had been issued. The Leviathan was going down.

"Keep the focus on the Leviathan," Forn ordered. There was a weariness in her tone, and I knew she was thinking on the vanished Ebon Hawk. "We don't stop until the cruiser's destroyed."

"That won't be long, now," I said. "It's a blow to Malak, Forn. Whatever else, we've a victory today."

She shot me a look, and there was a bulldozed sort of grimness in her small eyes. I'd worked with Forn long enough to read her, smooth-skinned and human though she was. I could recognize her despondency, even though I didn't understand it. The Leviathan's about to go. That means an end to that bastard Karath, to one or more Dark Jedi, and Malak's most powerful heavy cruiser. Sure, we lost our grasp on Kylah Aramai – for who else it could it be? – but that's a small price to pay. Insignificant, really.

"The escape pods don't all need to be shot down, Dodonna," the one called Vrook offered. His voice was defeated. I felt like dancing a damn jig of celebration, and half the command in the room were hanging their heads. "Vandar and I can sense any Force-sensitives onboard, when they get close. You can afford to grant mercy."

"The Leviathan, first," she snapped. I didn't support the Jedi Master's suggestion, purely because we'd lost too many damn times in this blasted war. But then my mind landed on the young Sullustan officer, putting her life on the line to bravely beg for surrender.

Forn sighed. "I'll think about it, Vrook. The Leviathan goes down, first."

"Bogey squad three has been eliminated, ma'am. There's only one squad left, and they're dispersing."

"To the Star Forge, we must look," Vandar murmured. "Follow the Ebon Hawk's trail."

Vandar Tokare had an unbending belief in the will of his mystical Force that went well beyond irritating. Why would the Ebon Hawk head to this Star Forge, to throw their might – insignificant though it was – against Malak? There's another Jedi onboard, though. Some runaway Cathar. Maybe that was the hero Vandar was pinning his hopes on. Unless- unless he dreamed of redemption for Kylah Aramai. Also a possibility. For how many times do the blasted Jedi like to sweep away the crimes of their villains under the flag of atonement and rebirth?

The Order had lost status and standing amongst the Senate. I didn't see how they'd be able to wrangle any captured Dark Jedi under a flag of sanctification after this war was over.

No. In the unlikely event that freighter has fled to Malak, it's a damn sight more plausible they've gone to join his side.

But we would follow, regardless.

"It'll take time to muster our forces," I said, still looking over the holo-map. Sections of the Leviathan were flashing in orange, now; our diagnostics confirming the failing parts. "A week, maybe two."

"We'll move as quickly as we can," Forn murmured. "Malak will draw his forces back. We have no idea what's out there, but the longer we give him, the stronger his defences will be."

"Onboard, I shall stay, and assist as I can," the short green alien offered.

The human Vrook sighed. "It may- it may not be a bad idea to send some scoutships ahead, Forn. Transmit back what they find before the bulk of the Fleet get there."

Vandar had turned, his bright blue eyes assessing the human Jedi Master in interest. It seemed a pointed look, as if unspoken communication flowed between the two.

"Their inertial compressor's blowing!" a tech cried in jubilation. "That's it, ma'am! The Leviathan's a goner!"

The words sparked a surge of victory through me, and I felt a fierce grin form on my face. I glanced away from the massive holo-map, over to the transparisteel viewing windows on the side of the command deck. The Leviathan, kilometres away from us, had sparks of turbolasers dancing over its body. Even from here, I could see the tail-end was visibly separate. And within the heart of the mighty starship, an explosion was visible for an instant - before the vacuum of space gutted the fire out.

Triumph felt sweet. Yes! That's Karath down! Unless he'd found an escape pod – and we'd shot down most of them, and could round up the rest, now – then that meant he was, finally, dead.

My fists clenched in victory. Fare thee well, Karath, you damn bastard.

One day soon, I swore, I'd be around to see the end of Malak, too. And then I could finally leave the ghost of bitter betrayal back in my past, where it belonged.

xXx

Juhani:

"Revan," I said softly, entering the living quarters. She had tucked her knees up under her chin, the pose of a lost child, yet her expression was anything but. Grim, resolute. Carth's words had sliced into her self-resolve – I'd witnessed the cut of each one – and yet Revan wasn't broken.

She had had a portion of time to accept the truth, if she had learned it back on Kashyyyk. I had been so concerned for her state of mind, but it seemed I had not given her enough credit.

Perhaps the Mandalorian had been correct. Perhaps we should have told her earlier.

"Juhani," she replied, her voice quiet. "I'm not even sure what to say… I certainly didn't expect you to already know." The last words were uttered with a faint twist of wry humour, an echo of her usual self. But her eyes were bleak.

"Calo Nord let it slip," I murmured.

"Calo Nord?" she repeated blankly. Surprise chased away the darkness in her face. "What, back on frelling Tatooine? Juhani, are you serious?" At my nod, a brief puff of laughter escaped her lips. "Stars, Juhani, we'd barely even met then! How in the Outer Rim did you not totally flip out?"

"Well," I replied, taking a seat on the lower bunk next to her. "I was still processing my own issues at the time… no, that is not the truth. The truth is I had met you before, Revan. I did not recognize you, not until Calo gave it away, but-"

"You- you, what?" she said, obviously stunned. I could see it was the last thing Revan thought to hear, and judging from the horrified look on her face, she expected it was from the darkest time of her past.

"Revan," I cut in gently. It was strange, being able to say her name so freely, now.

She'd drawn back from me, pushing up against the wall. Her moss-green eyes that reminded me so of Quatra's widened with alarm.

I smiled at her in reassurance. "On Korriban, I told you about the group of Jedi who stopped on Taris. The Jedi who overturned the slave trade, and liberated me along with so many others, while on their way to fight the Mandalorians. Who did you think they were? Who do you think was their leader?"

She blinked, and the horrified expression slowly disappeared as a considering one took its place. "Really?" she whispered. "I can't… I can't remember anything, Juhani. I feel like I should be asking if you're absolutely sure it was me… but I guess that's a bit redundant, considering my past."

I chuckled softly. "Taris was an awful planet for non-humans, and I suppose it still is… but you transformed that, Revan, if only for a short time. You arrived with a squad of Jedi, like a harbinger of change, fierce and righteous in your leadership. You overturned the corrupt rule of the rich elites, liberated the slaves, established free medical care… you do not understand what a difference you made."

Her face was pale, and she looked away from me. "It didn't last though, did it? By the time I was there again, after the Endar Spire, Taris was… well. I imagine it was much like it had been in the past."

"Perhaps," I conceded. "But you still saved my life, and that of many others."

Revan's piercing gaze returned to mine, and this time a frown of concentration furrowed her brow. "That was when you left to become a Jedi, wasn't it?"

I felt a small smile curve my lips. "Yes. One of your people recognized me for what I could become. If you were a force for change, then she was an angel in white. I had never met heroes before you, before her." I found myself slipping into the past, when a soft voice gently spoke to me about opportunities, about betterment, about the Jedi. I had only seen Revan Freeflight from afar, but Meetra Surik was the one who compelled me to travel for Dantooine.

I swung my gaze back to Revan. "If you had never stopped on Taris and attempted to improve matters, then I am sure I would be dead by now, having lived nothing but a life of poverty followed by slavery. Not all of your past is dark, my friend. Some of it is nothing short of heroic."

I caught the slight flinch on her face and understood she was nowhere near acceptance yet. How could she be? I struggled to reconcile with my own dark deeds, and they were truly inconsequential next to hers.

"I have no choice, Juhani, but to keep going," she whispered. "Yet part of me wishes that… that Bastila had left me. Left me to die, onboard that damned flagship. She gave me a gift, but sometimes it feels a lot more like a curse."

"Do not say such a thing, do not… do not even think it," I said, placing a hand on her knee. She was still in her undergarments from the cursed torture chamber. I'd had a chance to clothe myself, but she remained wrapped in a blanket. Her pale, hairless skin was a striking contrast to the fine striping on mine.

Revan had been darkly tanned, once. She had been a warrior of the sun.

"It's just… it's the same path, Juhani!" she burst out. "I'm following the same path, only this time with sod-all recollection of any training, and I have to keep Bastila at bay- I don't even have her voice in my mind now, keeping me on the straight and narrow." Her head dropped, and a bitter chuckle escaped her lips. "Not that I think she'd know how, anymore."

"Revan," I murmured. How could I make her see? "Memory is not everything, my friend. It is not what will keep you in the Light. Trust in the Force. And… although I am uncertain of everything Jolee Bindo says, he is correct when he points out that you have us here to lean on. To support you. I will be there for you, Revan. And I am not the only one."

She mumbled something, and I thought it might have been Carth's name. Revan and Carth. That was an astonishing development. I was surprised I had not sensed something, smelled something… perhaps I, like everyone, had been too preoccupied with our quest. Still, it was a messy entanglement, and did nothing but make matters more complicated.

"I do not wish to preach to you, Revan, but romantic attachments are frowned on amongst the Jedi for a reason," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. She hunched away from me. I slowly removed my hand. "To be perfectly accurate, forbidden is closer to the truth. I, of all people, understand the pitfalls of not mastering dangerous emotions."

"Evidently I don't," Revan muttered, scrubbing at her face. She raised her head, then, and stared back at me grimly. "I never would have involved myself with Carth if I'd known. Dammit, I never should have anyway, and I knew it at the sodding time." She sighed. "Though, from everything I hear, Mal- Malak and I were long-established lovers, even when we were fully loyal Jedi Knights. How the frell does that fit with the Jedi ethos?"

"I do not know of your past, my friend, only of what I have heard. And, in truth, I have always paid little attention to gossip."

Revan broke from my gaze, to stare blankly at the durasteel wall ahead. The corners of her mouth had turned down.

I sighed. "But it has always been difficult to avoid hearing mention of you and Malak. I understand you were involved before the Jedi found you, and… attempts were made, unsuccessfully, to curb your attachment."

"Hah." It was a bitter sound. "We're the poster children for why Jedi should stay celibate, no doubt." Her eyes swung back to me. The depth of anguish there cut deep into my soul. "You were thinking about Quatra, earlier, and about not mastering your emotions. Don't tell me you still blame yourself, Juhani?"

I blinked. Revan had never been one to dance around matters, but I had always been uncomfortable with talking about my own feelings. "In part, perhaps. If I had learned to control myself, to rise above such physical, unwanted desires, then perhaps Quatra's rejection and condescension would not have pushed me over the edge. I was unprepared at my Trials… I had thought of so many different ways she would test me, but I had never expected a personal angle. I did not- I did not truly understand it was her. Others had spoken of ghosts and visions at their own Trials, and when I attacked, churning with my own self-doubt and longings, I don't believe I fully grasped that it was my own Master standing there."

It was a long speech, coming from me. Heart-felt and awkward, and Revan's gaze shone in fierce empathy. I did not regret my words, though. It would do her good to think of something other than her own despair.

Her eyes narrowed. "Quatra's an idiot."

"She's a Master, Revan," I said gently. "She has had decades upon decades of training."

"Doesn't stop her being an idiot."

I could not hold back a wholly inappropriate chuckle. "Well. I do believe you are correct in that we were ill-suited. But it is an example of where romantic entanglements can lead - down dark paths. I understand why Force-sensitives distance themselves from such… messy, emotional states."

"Messy?" She quirked an eyebrow. "I dunno, Juhani. Love is a pretty amazing thing, in all its forms. To label it as dark-"

"I am not calling it dark. Just dangerous, for Jedi."

She snorted, and I saw the refusal to believe on her face, despite her past. I sighed, and spoke further of intimacy I normally tried not to dwell on. "Dak left the Order, because of inappropriate desires that were not returned. What if he had, instead, stayed and tried to overcome them?"

"Juhani." Her voice was intense, and her eyes captured mine. "Dak returned, due to his feelings for you. He may have accepted that those feelings will never be reciprocated, but it is his love for you that set him on the right path." The corner of her mouth quirked. "And you're not talking about relationships, so much as unrequited love. And even that… Stars, Juhani, Belaya loved you too. She didn't falter."

"Belaya," I whispered, closing my eyes as her beloved face flashed through my mind. She had been my truest friend, and the grief was still fresh. "I do not believe I shall ever stop missing her. But our bond of friendship was pure, Revan, and-"

"You are not going to preach to me that sex is impure-"

"No, no," I felt myself flushing in discomfort. "Merely that Dak has a tendency to jump to conclusions."

I petered into silence, looking away from her, and feeling distinctly off-kilter. It had never even occurred to me to think of Belaya that way, until Dak had mentioned it. And, now that she was gone, the odd thought slipped through my defences. Brief, and bittersweet.

"I'm sorry, Juhani." Revan's voice was wry. Despite my discomfort, that pleased me. Better she gain some small amount of pleasure at discomfiting me than sinking into the depths of her own despair. "I didn't mean to re-open any wounds. But I can't- despite everything, I can't agree with you here. Romantic love is just another facet of love itself, and if that's not the very essence of the Force, then the galaxy's a cursed place. Look-"

And I found myself meeting her rounded, human eyes once again.

"It's one of the reasons we managed to reach Dustil, you know. I'm not sure if his father alone would have been enough. But there'd been a girl he'd cared for, back on Korriban. Even sodding Mekel-" Revan rolled her eyes. "I sensed the same emotion from him. One of the few glimpses of empathy, of love, of light, from both those angry boys were their romantic feelings towards a girl. Sun and stars, frelling Yuthura Ban believed Mekel would have left Korriban, left the Sith, for that girl."

I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about being compared to a pair of hormonal Dark Side teenagers, and perhaps something showed in my face, for Revan gave a snort of amusement.

"Well, as old man Bindo likes to say, young people are idiots," she commented. "But I think I agree with him about attachment."

My lips curved in a gentle smile towards my emotive friend. "Perhaps you have given me somewhat to think on. For I have the feeling, Revan, that this is an opinion you held once before, when you were a guardian of the Light."

Again, there was the small flinch. "Don't be too quick to listen to me, Juhani," she muttered, her voice twisting. "At the end of it all, I'm still the same blighted woman who fell in the first place. Dammit- if only I knew why-"

"Perhaps it is a blessing you cannot remember – and I am not only talking about the dark parts of your past. Perhaps, with a clean slate, you are not doomed to make the same mistakes."

Her brow furrowed. "I think the reverse is more likely. Dammit, I feel the same drive I must have once before. The same conviction, to uphold the strength of the Republic, to fight for galactic peace, to-" she broke off, sighing. "How can I face Malak in the depths of the Star Forge and not expect to fall again? It's a Dark Force relic, Juhani!" Revan looked away, before her voice plummeted to a broken whisper. "Especially- especially after what just happened on the Leviathan."

I couldn't deny the state she had been in, there.

When we'd rushed out of the interrogation room to find her, the despair had been so deep I'd choked on the Force. Visible shadows of death had danced around Revan, still and crouched down as she was. The misery had reached out with murky fingers of obscurity, submerging us all in a pall of darkness.

My own dalliance with the Dark Side was nothing in comparison, I knew. And yet, somehow, Revan had managed to pick herself up. There was a brittle hollowness about her, undeniably so- but she had managed to pull herself back. Somehow.

I understood, now, why I had fallen. Did that make it easier, to stand firm in the Light? To avoid the same mistakes, the same pitfalls?

I cleared my throat. "Well, perhaps you need to talk to someone who can explain."

"What?" she snapped, her bright green eyes sparking at me with an echo of her former sass. "Someone who knows the reason why I grasped the mantle of the Sith in the first place?" She snorted in disparagement. "Think I should holo-call Malak and see if he wants a heart-to-heart?"

"No," I said gently, holding her gaze. "Actually, I was thinking of Yudan Rosh."

xXx

Revan Freeflight

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, in quiet companionship with Juhani. She had lapsed into a gentle Force meditation, possibly hoping I would join her… but I was spent. Utterly spent.

They had known. They had all known. Canderous' words upon us leaving the 'Hawk and surrendering to the Leviathan's crew had stunned me, but I'd had little time to reflect upon them. Maybe, out of everyone, his reaction was the least surprising. Especially when taking into account how much he enjoyed throwing around what turned out to be my name during our sodding spars.

Carth was right about that. Canderous had a frelling field day.

Carth… I wasn't ready to think on him. There were words to speak, between us, and they would be ugly.

I slowly dragged myself upright. My legs were cramping from sitting still for so long.

Juhani cracked open a tawny eye, and smiled. "Go see the others, Revan. They care for you too."

I gave her a short nod before leaving. My overriding desire was to lick my wounds in peace, but Juhani had followed me in here for a reason. My gut told me old man Bindo was behind it, and that solitude was likely something he wouldn't let me dwell in for long.

His dry voice rumbled in my head. "Seems to me, you're the most dangerous when you go running off by yourself."

It was hard to know how true that was. But one thing I did understand was the danger I presented to others.

I sighed, and trudged wearily back to the common room.

Mission glanced up as I entered, shooting me a bright smile that tugged in my chest. "You okay, Jen?"

I didn't exactly want to lie to her, so settled for throwing a shrug in her general direction. Canderous, sitting opposite her, tipped the remainder of a drink down his throat.

::One hour until hyperspace exit.::

Carth's grim voice shot through the ship's intercom, and I gritted my teeth in reaction. I didn't need to reach out with the Force to realize his son would be ensconced in the cockpit with him - both Onasi's, as far away from me possible on this freighter.

I had no idea what to say to Carth. And it hurt, more than I wanted to admit, to face the reality of his reaction.

And to accept all of my crimes against him.

I couldn't even argue that it wasn't me, that I was changed; different, now. The charred stench of death still lingered in my senses, as well as the memory of the once-sworn comrade killed by my indifferent hand.

"We got no idea where we're headed, or if there's danger waiting," Canderous said, unfolding himself from the bench and levelling me with a flat stare. "Get your arse behind the turrets, Revan. You and I will man them."

Unlike Mission, he had no qualms about naming me to my face. Of course he didn't. This was sodding Canderous.

I gave him a nod of assent, before complying in silence.

I'd been in the dorsal turret room before, of course, but I'd never strapped myself into either of the controlling seats. The safety harness slipped naturally around my torso as I clipped it on. There was a deep ache in my shoulder, reverberating through to my crippled hand, and I was too weary to immerse myself in the Force to block it out.

Canderous was quiet, unusually so. Maybe he was waiting for me to broach the topic.

I cleared my throat. "I hear Calo spilled the beans."

There was a gust of laughter from behind me. "Yeah. Nasty piece of work, that one. Kinda wish I'd got the death blow on him, rather than Juhani."

"I'm surprised you never said anything earlier, Canderous."

"Bastila had something to do with that," he replied, somewhat cryptically. "But it's dust under our boots, now. We've evened the scales well enough. If we can get the princess back, I'll let her fill you in on the details."

I couldn't envisage Bastila convincing him to be quiet. It seemed- hard to imagine, how a conversation like that would have gone.

"So. You'll follow, still?" I asked, a bit awkwardly.

"How can you even ask that?" the Mandalorian bellowed out, thumping a fist on the targeting deck behind me. I craned my neck around to see him doing the same, staring back at me. "You defeated the Mando'ade clans in the war, Revan. You were the only one in the galaxy who could best us. Whatever you are fighting, it will be worthy of my skill." His eyes, tough and hard as ferracrete, held mine firmly with fierce determination. "I'm your man until the end, Revan, no matter how this plays out."

I held his gaze in silence for a moment, until he barked a laugh. "I'll go back to my people, after this. You've made me see the sense in that. But first, we'll face your endgame. Whatever happens, it'll be a battle song worthy for the stars."

His loyalty was- maybe not surprising, but it both gratified and humbled me. It made me think on his blood duel, back on Korriban. Canderous had agreed to follow me then, knowing who I was, understanding my own ignorance. Somehow, during our travels, I'd managed to secure the alliance of a man I esteemed highly.

The duel must have been on his mind, too. "Don't think I don't get what you did for me, against Jagi. No one else could have turned that around the way you did. Jagi was more than just a battle comrade, once. And because of you, he might be again."

He turned back to face his targeting reticule, indicating an end to that conversation. I did the same.

I had no recollection of controlling turbolaser turrets like this one, but as I gingerly placed my hands on the gear-sticks, muscle memory had me trialling out the movement.

Like so many things in my life; the memory washed away, but the instinct remained.

I'd been a gunner at one stage. Possibly I'd been crap at it – who knew? – but I'd done it.

"Were you at Malachor?" I asked, my voice curt and abrupt.

"On the fringes, only, or I wouldn't be here," his voice, dry and amused, answered. "Malachor's a heady topic, Revan. Let's wait until we have a few hours spare and a few drinks under our belt before we delve into that one."

"Okay." I stared blankly out the viewing window; black hyperspace cut through with lines of white. "Tell me a story, then, Canderous. Not- not about me."

With a grunt of assent, he complied.

And as Canderous began to expound upon a tale of piloting a damaged basilisk through the atmo of an enemy planet, I allowed myself to enjoy the camaraderie of friendship, of those who accepted me, unconditionally, even though I didn't deserve it.

I can do this, I thought to myself, even if it meant dealing with the pain of Carth's justifiable enmity. I can finish what Bastila started. One way or another, we'll end this together.

xXx

Suvam Tan:

I nervously hummed a year-old jingle under my breath, while filling up the stocks of my self-styled cantina. One thing I didn't lack was booze. Amazing how generous the Exchange could be, when I sourced them the correct parts.

Bunch of sadistic nerflings when I don't, though. I was trying to act casual, keep my mind in order, think of mundane things. My space station has its defences. And I have true friends in the Exchange – powerful enough that their dumbass underlings know to treat me with respect, or they can piss off back into hyperspace.

Things were normal. Things were just peachy. My contacts were growing, my credit base – at long last – was exceeding that fat Hutt's interest charges, and one day I'd be able to pay off my debts.

One day. One day, soon. I'll be able to extract my son from of that tub of lard's slave pit.

I just needed credits. Which meant dealing with dangerous people.

And out here, on the fringes of space in a forgotten station that could route all manner of illegal goods, dangerous peeps were a-plenty.

But I could handle the Exchange. Share a drink, have a laugh, know when to bow your head-

I could handle the Exchange. Problem was, there were some peeps out here worse than the Exchange. And I was four days away from an encounter with two of them.

They've told me what they want. I've got it sorted. I'll offer a free drink- everyone likes free drinks- as long as they're not angry drunks-

I wasn't scared. Just a little jittery, that's all.

-the booze will give me time to sort out the bots, switch their ship over, get their papers sorted- and they'll be on their merry way without losing their temper or- or- blowing anything up, or hurting me-

I wasn't scared! Any rational peep would be careful around Force-users, that's all. Especially Dark Jedi. Especially especially Dark Jedi as powerful as the leader of the duo. That one's eyes...

I shivered. Powerful Dark Jedi meant powerful credits. So long as I didn't annoy them.

Just act pleasant, do what they want, and hope no one else visits at the same time.

Because I'd had fights on my station before. And while my turrets and shields could deal with a lot of things, the Force was a sadistic bugger. I get approx one unplanned visitor a month. I've postponed the weekly Exchange contact. Chances of anyone else turning up has got to be piss-all-

My chron-comm bleeped. I stared down at it.

::Automatic Alert: Hyperspace Exit Of Unknown Vessel Detected. Report To Control Room.::

There was a stutter in my chest. I dropped the bottle of vox, ignored the smash of ferracrystal and the pungent kick of evaporating spirits, and sprinted as fast as I could.

The console was blinking with an incoming comm when I bowled in; I ignored it to run my eyes frantically over the grid sensors. Yavin Station used to be a supply run for the Republic, frigging decades ago when they mounted a last-ditch effort to oust Exar Kun from Yavin-4. After that, well- the Yavin sector was so out of reach– and most of it uninhabitable except by venomous natives– that the Republic had kriffed off and never looked back.

The nav-com ran a quick analysis of the incoming data.

Ship Model: Dynamic-class Freighter
Line Number: AF2992-X1-BA9371
Signature Broadcast: Daisy Flash
Alert: Visual, Radiation And Emission Match Found In Local Database

I blinked. Match found? I'd never heard of a Daisy Flash, and I was pretty solid remembering ship names. Had to be, in my line of work. That meant it was a returning client, who'd changed their ship's signature in the intervening time.

Which was pretty odd, since signature changes were one of the reasons peeps came to me in the first place.

Screeds of info scrolled past, before the final blinking line held my attention.

Match: Ebon Hawk

The breath whistled out my lungs. Davik's baby. Oh, it'd been awhile. But Taris had long burned, and Davik Kang with it – surely. He would've sent a comm before coming. He wouldn't have changed his frigging baby's signature!

Whoever these ship-robbers were, it would be safer to get rid of them. Get them outta here. At least before the Dark Jedi come. My mind worked furiously. There… there might be time for a barter if the price is right.

Credits were credits, after all. And I had four days grace before I had to get rid of whoever these guys were.

I leaned over to receive the waiting transmit. It was audio only.

::This is the Ebon Hawk. We require immediate assistance. Our repulsors are down to twenty-thirty, and stabilizers are pinging high in the one-eighties. Request permission to dock and repair.::

A man's voice. Circumspect enough to hold back his name, but not stealthy enough to make up a fake one. Or to remember that he changed his frigging ship's signature, the dumbass.

I tapped my fingers. No talk of payment in that greeting. "Station's closed. Turn around and return to hyperspace. We can't help you here."

The reply back was quick. ::Blast it, we have to dock with you! The 'Hawk's falling apart. We can pay you- we have some credits, or an assortment of salvage if you prefer- but we have to get this freighter seen to-::

The man was obviously desperate, and the incoming diagnostics confirmed his tale of woe. Landing that baby safely was going to take skill. I had four docking bays, and enough space-bots to fix one should a poor pilot dock, but still-

I winced, remembering the time a drunk Trandoshan smeared his brains along with his scoutship all over dock three.

If these guys are still around in four days, I could have a much bigger mess than one dead Trandoshan and a fragged docking bay.

But the man was desperate. And he had salvage-

I licked my lips. "What salvage?"

There was a pause. ::Armour. Weapons.::

"What sort?" That was important to know. Commercial weaponry was easiest to sell, of course, but military meant more creds even if it was hot-

::A variety from our travels. Some of its Czerka-brand. Some… some of it's not. We haven't, uh, exactly sorted that out yet.::

If they hadn't even sorted their own freight out yet, then they were running. Means they haven't had time to assess the value of what they've got. Another sign of desperation I could capitalize on. It was a risk, sure, but running this station always had been-

I can do it. I tried not to think of unnaturally luminescent eyes. More creds. Easy creds. And the gods know I need those. I just had to make sure they would play by my rules-

I cleared my throat, tried to firm my voice into a command. "I have important visitors in four days time. You will be gone by then. I'll inspect your salvage, first, and take what I want. No complaints. I'll set my repair-bots on your ship, and you'll disappear in three days. No matter whether your ship is space-worthy or not."

I couldn't believe I was actually considering this. I knew if these visitors were still here when the others landed it was just asking for trouble-

If they don't leave, I'll make them. I'll detonate their ship. It should be fine, just fine. My space-bots were the best, and I could get the freighter outta here in two or three days. Fix it good enough, at least, so they can hyperjump the frig away.

::Understood. Look, we want to lay low as well, okay? We're not interested in interrupting your business or meeting any strangers. I'll order the crew grounded, and only I'll come onboard.::

"Right." I nodded to myself. It could work. "Okay, standard procedure is a docking clamp on touchdown. Its insurance, is all. I have to protect my own livelihood. I'll release it once we conclude our business." I took a deep breath. The man sounded reasonable enough – I'd just give him a drink, talk over his salvage, and let the bots do the work. "My name's Suvam Tan."

::Uh, I'm Carl.::

Carl. Right. This would be okay. This would work out, and I'd be just that little bit closer to getting my son back.

"Okay, Carl, bring her in to docking bay three."

xXx

Author's Note:

Thanks, kosiah, for the read-through :-)