Shadows of history

- Juhani -


I sailed backwards, landing on the soft sand in an ungainly heap. With a wrench of lightning-quick Force, I was back on my feet, hand outstretched, calling the training lightsaber back to my grasp.

Metres in front of me, Revan and Yudan slowly circled one another, all but oblivious to my recovered presence.

They were both suffering from temporary limitations: Yudan's speed and stamina were compromised due to his recovery, and Revan was still adjusting to wielding just the one lightsaber. As I watched Yudan launch into another flurry of offensive moves, it became obvious they were an even match. I suspected the same would hold true once they were both on form.

With a note of chagrin, I ruefully accepted I was their inferior.

The balance changed when I flanked the Dark Jedi and we simultaneously challenged Revan. Her limits were tested, she retreated into defensiveness and, as a result, innately leaned harder on the Force – be it to enhance her speed or strength or push away a foe.

When that happened, she truly became a creature of magnificence.

I took a moment to breathe, feeling the grittiness of the sand trickling down my tunic, catching on the sweat and fur along my neck. There was a mild burn there that stung, a place where Revan had caught me directly on the back.

The daylight was starting to dim, now. I did not know how long a solar cycle was on this strange world, but it had been high noon when we had first landed, and now the sun was winking out of sight above the forest line.

If I cocked my head and listened, I could hear the trill of alien birdsong deeper in the vegetation, alongside the rustle of small tree-dwellers. Louder still was the shearing sound of a fusion-grinder beneath the Ebon Hawk, as Zaalbar, Mission and Carth continued their work. Artificial lighting spilled out from under the freighter as the repairs stretched into the onset of evening.

The sound of the footsteps meandering down the loading ramp had me turning to see Jolee Bindo approach.

"They still at it, huh?" Jolee said as he traipsed toward me. "How's the ship coming along?"

I looked beyond the old Human, deeper into the open hatch, but no one was following him outside.

"Canderous departed a few hours ago to see what he could salvage from the closest wreck," I replied. "I do not know the progress of the reconstruction. Where is Dustil?"

"Eh, he wanted to stay on the ship." Jolee shrugged, but his gaze was sharp as it landed on the others. I wondered whether he was judging their skill; truly, I considered myself a more than adept duellist, but I was not their equal.

Yet, not long ago, I had been a match for Revan.

Her progress was astonishing. I wondered how much of it was her past reclaiming her, and I worried over the implications. While my faith that she would stay true to us remained steadfast, I could still see that her broken history was damaging her soul, and my own ached in empathy.

How Yudan Rosh's presence would affect her I could not predict. He had grossly offended me earlier with his callousness and utter disregard for personal boundaries. Even the general aloofness of his character was discordant, and did not invite a good opinion.

But Yudan meant something to Revan. And every sentient deserved a chance to change things for the better. I could only hope that Yudan truly desired to, and that Revan's trust in him was justified.

"Do you have any thoughts regarding what this Force beacon could be?" I asked quietly. Behind me, there was an absence of sound, indicating the attention of the others had been caught.

Jolee shrugged again. "No more than you. Pure power like that is enough to catch any Force-user's interest, and there's a fair dollop of it being channelled on this planet."

"It's being used to amplify the EMP scrambler. The signal's being pushed out through the entire sector." Revan's voice wafted through the cooling air. It was still warm, but the ambient temperature had started to fall once the sunlight had disappeared.

In all, this seemed a pleasant world with all the required markers for sentient life. The mere fact that a construction of the Star Forge was here meant that it had been inhabited at one point. And yet, the bio-scanners of the astromech had picked up nothing of import. No sizeable life within range, be it on land or sea. No large predators or herbivores, no sign of civilization.

That struck me as odd.

I turned to survey Revan as she padded closer. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and her green eyes glittered. She looked alive, confident, and more at ease than I had seen her for some time.

I understood that. I had always felt both more relaxed and focused after immersing myself in combat forms and training regimes, rather than the meditation other Jedi turned to.

"We know the Star Forge is a ship factory, so I guess there's technology on their craft that decodes the signal and stops it affecting their own fleet," Revan added, drawing close to me. There was a burn of red alongside her neck; the mark of a direct hit that would have been a deathblow with anything other than a training 'saber.

"Huh. I wonder if there's some other purpose," Jolee mused, peering toward the jungle. From here, we could still see the top of the pyramid jutting above the tree-line. It was only a short distance into the forestation. "It's an awful lot of Force power."

"And the scrambler's an awfully good defense," Revan shot back in a dry voice. "Any starship exiting hyperspace within range is immediately compromised. I doubt it's the only defense of the Star Forge, but it's a damn good preliminary one."

"Where's the boy?" Yudan drawled as he neared. The lightsaber in his grasp hissed as he deactivated it.

Revan's gaze had sharpened on Jolee. "Do you think it's wise, leaving him-"

"Eh, quit worrying, the lot of you," Jolee grumbled. "If you don't give the lad some space, then the first opportunity he gets he really will sneak out. He said he'd stay on the ship. Let's give him a chance, huh?"

Revan's lips were twitching. "A chance. Sure." Her gaze had travelled behind Jolee to the open hatch. I stretched the Force out, focused it directly on the entranceway of the Ebon Hawk, but I could not sense anything out of the norm, no indicator to show me-

"That is so annoying," Dustil snapped, abruptly appearing at the top of the ramp, his arms folded and his face twisted with belligerence.

Beside me, Jolee grunted in surprise. "You heard about such a thing as trust, boy?" he demanded.

Dustil gave an abrupt shrug. "I'm at the top of the ramp. That's still the ship."

"How did you pick up on him?" Yudan asked Revan. As always, his tone was flat and remote... but he would not have asked if he was not curious. I wondered, then, how much of the disagreeable Twi'lek's indifference was no more than a front.

"A null patch of Force," Revan murmured, the amusement still clearly evident in her voice as she gazed upon the irate teenager. "Dustil's repelling the Force away to hide his psychic signature, and it feels like the absence of any life or Force. In reality, it's just a mirror." Revan shrugged. "I haven't quite worked out the invisibility part yet."

"I could not sense anything at all," I said.

"Huh," Jolee was frowning, one hand scratching at his hairless head. "Do that trick again, lad, if you don't mind?"

There was a truculent contentiousness on Dustil's face, as if he despised this sort of show-and-tell. I could recall Dustil showcasing it once before, enroute to Kashyyyk. He had not seemed particularly willing then, either.

Dustil's hostile gaze moved past Revan before landing on Yudan. Something in the young man's expression eased, even as his shoulders bunched in discomfort.

"Fine," he muttered, scowling, and then vanished once more.

Jolee shifted on his feet, his bushy brows creasing. "I'm not picking up on anything," he grumbled, glaring at the ramp. "And I'm used to relying on my senses. You sure you can sense the lad?"

I cleared my throat, attracting Revan's attention. "I do not understand what you mean with an absence of life," I said to her. "I can sense the Force within sentients, even within trees and plants. But Revan- you speak as if the air itself has life, that you then notice the lack thereof when Dustil shields himself so."

"Well, the air does have life," Revan said. Her gaze was tracking seemingly nothing, moving to the base of the loading ramp. "Doesn't it?"

The soft pad of a footstep caught my ear, a brief whiff of Human youngling. Nothing apparent with eyesight nor Force. My senses, disagreeing with one another- still, it was something to know that at least the young Onasi could not conceal his sound or scent on top of his other talents.

"I don't sense him either," Yudan said, shrugging in apparent nonchalance. "Your definition suggests one has to be able to sense the smallest amount of life. Intricacies like that were always one of your strengths, Revan. It is not surprising that you are the one to notice him."

"It's not that special," Dustil snapped, appearing next to Jolee with a sudden movement that had the old man start in surprise a second time. "It's not like she's the only one, either. Mekel has no problem picking up on me."

"Mekel." Revan's eyes narrowed as she stared at Dustil. "That friend of yours... he's- is he normally so open in the Force?"

I frowned. That ill-mannered Human had chanced across us on Yavin Station with his mistress, but I had seen more of him on Korriban. Back in Tulak Hord's tomb, when that maddened, blinded Sith Master had captured him and Revan and almost killed them both-

"What?" Dustil blinked, wavering somewhere between confusion and outrage. "What the frakk do you mean by that?"

Revan shifted, tossing the training hilt from one hand to the other. She looked vaguely uncomfortable. "His emotions. His feelings, I guess. They just seemed very-" She paused. "Loud."

Yudan was staring at Revan in open curiosity now. I could smell it on the stagnant air. He caught my glance on him and his expression shuttered back into indifference, but his scent remained the same. I understood, then, that no matter his outward insouciance and detachment, Yudan Rosh remained intensely interested in Revan.

Dustil's eyes had narrowed in return, and his voice iced over. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He didn't seem anything out of the ordinary to me, young pup," Jolee Bindo added, raising a brow. "Rude and potty-mouthed, maybe, but otherwise just your average Sithling runaway."

Revan looked slightly puzzled, running her free hand through her hair, as if her thoughts had been misguided. I did not quite know what she referred to, myself. The Human Mekel had seemed no more than an average Force-user riddled with anger and more than his fair share of curse words.

Revan shrugged in apparent dismissal, and glanced back to Yudan with a slight smile. "We still have an hour of light left, I reckon. You done for the day?"

"Hardly." The Twi'lek lit his weapon once again, a droll look on his face. "Although I do think the Cathar should join us once again, and this time you should refrain from overtly utilizing the Force, Revan."

Her grin widened as she lunged forward in a lazy swipe which Yudan knocked aside with ease. "Surely one should use all resources at hand."

"That depends if you wish to practise combat forms or Force powers," Yudan shot back, darting to the side before swinging forward in a sweeping hit that Revan caught on her blade. I was about to walk up and flank the Twi'lek, but something changed in Revan's expression that halted my movement.

Startlement, chasing through her hairless Human face, evident even through the white cross of the training lightsabers.

"Blue," she whispered, blinking, take a faltering step backward. "You had a blue double-blade."

I could see the overt stiffening of Yudan's back as I strode to his side. Revan's gaze was fixed on him, her brows creased, with a look of something akin to wonder in the moss green of her gaze.

"You remember something?" Yudan's words were tight and low, and taut with intensity. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, understanding that Revan was yet again dealing with an unexpected fragment of her past – and wondered if the frequency of these was accelerating.

"No." Revan gave a little shake of her head, the confusion dissipating into a slight smile. "Not a memory... just the knowledge of it, somehow. It happens." She shrugged, striving to appear nonchalant, but I could see she was still rattled. "Sometimes I just know something without any understanding of how. Like how the Force cages worked on the Leviathan. The Sith boarding protocols. Even how to fly a frelling starship."

The understanding of something with no foundation to ground it on. It sounded like a deep, instinctive muscle memory, but of the brain as well as the body. Bastila had explained to me, back on Manaan, that so much of Revan's mind had been irrevocably damaged... so many neural pathways incinerated during that infamous stand-off on her faltering flagship.

No matter that Revan's recovery was well beyond anyone's expectations – Bastila's opinion was that most of her memory was simply no longer there.

I felt suddenly, inexplicably, sad.

Revan's expression firmed. Yet again, she was gathering herself back up, finding a path forward. Her eyes glinted with curiosity. "What about me?" she asked. "I never thought to question it... what colour did I use, before- before- well. You know."

"Before you became an insane evil schutta who tried to destroy the galaxy?" Dustil muttered from behind us.

Yudan turned, deliberately, and shot the boy a quelling look. Dustil subsided, somewhat, glaring down at the sand.

"Well, you had many different lightsabers, Revan," Yudan replied, and it surprised me to see the corner of his mouth twitch as he faced her yet again. "Jedi usually keep to one crystal, perhaps two. Whichever kaiburr sings the loudest to them. But you..." And now, he looked almost fond. "You used to claim you were versatile. You had more than half a dozen different kaiburr, and modified your lightsabers constantly."

"Really." Revan raised an eyebrow, and her return back was dry. "That sounds an awful lot like showmanship."

Yudan laughed. The sound was rich and deep, and I didn't think I had heard it before. "It certainly was," he agreed, amused. "I always suspected the truth was that you didn't wish to give away anything about your character. There are… theories. Philosophies, if you will, on what the different hues of a kaiburr represents."

They had deactivated their lightsabers once more, and I saw Revan attach hers to her belt. There was a shuffle as Dustil took a step closer to us. I cocked my head; interested, also. This was a discussion I had heard more than once back at the Enclave, but not one the Masters ever seemed to agree upon.

"It is inordinately strange explaining this to you, Revan." Yudan was frowning, his earlier expression of mirth well gone.

"My entire life is strange." Revan's reply was flippant, but her face was still lit with curiosity. "Karon's 'saber is light blue... does that have some sort of meaning, then?"

"The blue..." I murmured. "I heard it postulated that blue crystals are more attuned with lightsaber forms, with the physical offense and defense of the Force... particularly the darker hues."

Jolee snorted. "There have been enough Jedi-led studies into some so-called meaning of kaiburr colours without anything of note coming from it. Bah, there's always some who have to explain everything away."

Revan arched an eyebrow. "So, nothing to say about your green 'saber then, old man?"

"It's pretty," Jolee drawled. "I always liked green."

"Some say that green represents a search for balance in the Force, an understanding that every ying has its yang. Dark and light. Good and evil." Yudan shrugged. "And that yellow is more apt to suit those in touch with the more tangible aspects of life- those who believe that Jedi should concern themselves with the day-to-day lives of all sentients, be they Force-users or not."

"There are other colours, and a thousand shades in between," I commented. Although the meaning of lightsaber crystals had always intrigued me, the whole explanation often fell flat to my comprehension.

"People do not belong simply to one characteristic," Yudan said in reply, but his gaze still lay on Revan. "I once suspected you were more drawn to the yellow, but it was a subject on which you always refused to offer a serious answer."

"People will attribute meaning to the dregs of caffa, if they can – and some cultures do." Jolee turned a beady eye on Yudan. "In the end, it usually becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. A more academic Jedi might harvest a blue crystal, and argue to himself that of course the crystal suits him, because he might have made a fantastic duellist if he'd put effort in that direction. And, after all, he isn't so bad for a mere beginner-"

"You must admit that most Jedi with duelling as a focus wield a shade of blue," Yudan cut in, his attention turning to the old man.

"They named us guardians," I murmured, feeling a soft curve to my lips as I recalled my own first harvest. Belaya had once held an amber lightsaber, whilst Dak had found a green kaiburr... even though he had struggled to construct a lightsaber for it. I had felt satisfaction from that balance, once. Three friends, all different points of the Jedi triangle. Before Dak ran. Before I failed. Before Belaya died.

So much had happened since then.

"It's common knowledge that blues are the most easily found," Jolee grumbled. "As for those who style themselves as so-called guardians – how many of them truly found a blue kaiburr first? Eh, I bet most scoured the caves until they found one that both sang to them as well as appealed to their own ego."

"I found a twin of blues almost immediately," Yudan murmured. "Perfect for a double-blade. It was striking how loud they called to me. I knew not their colour as my hands first rested upon the mineral bed they came from."

"What happened to them?" Revan asked, her voice dropping to an almost whisper.

I could feel a tightening of Force currents around the Twi'lek; an immediate reaction, I suspected, to a question he did not appreciate. His expression froze as he stared coldly at Revan.

"Crystals like that do not work so well in the hands of dark-siders, Revan. Or they corrupt." His eyes glinted with buried resentment. "Once corrupted, they stay scarlet forever. Damaged, or so the Jedi say. Unable to be redeemed or restored to what they once were."

He turned, an abrupt movement on the sand, and stalked off along the darkening beach. My gaze slipped to Revan; she was watching him go, a lost expression of melancholy tightening her face.

"Well." Jolee raised an eyebrow. "Ain't he just a ray of sunshine."

"People are not crystals, Revan," I whispered. She glanced back to me, her face shifting into inscrutability.

"And red?" Dustil's tone was short, and I realized the young man had been quietly listening in. He looked almost angry as his gaze roved between us all. "Yuthura used to say it was the mark of passion that the Sith embraced. I guess the Jedi-" his voice twisted, as his hand rested on the cylinder at his hip, "-just label it as evil, right?"

Jolee snorted in response. "I thought I made it clear that the colour definition was a load of twaddle, lad."

"But there is an organic explanation, as such," I murmured. My first kaiburr hadn't turned after I'd left Dantooine. I recalled staring at the dark blue in a rage, wanting it to corrupt, needing it to corrupt-

In the end, I'd discarded the crystal in a trash compactor on Taris, the blood of slavers still tinny in my nose. Synthetic reds were a lot easier to come by than natural kaiburr.

I sent a brief thought of gratitude toward Master Karon – now held deep in the embrace of the Force – for the gift of the blue that was once more nestled in my old hilt.

Dustil's attention had turned to me, edgy and fierce, his chin jutting out in teenage resentment. His chestnut hair flopped into his eyes, framing the square lines of his face. I could see his father in him then, strongly; and hoped Dustil would mellow into the good-hearted man that was Carth Onasi.

"Natural red merely indicates the crystalline structure is flawed; imperfect," I explained. "For some reason, this resonates better with more emotive uses of the Force. This is why sometimes pure crystals will crack or corrupt when used too often in the hands of dark-siders. As I understand it, synthetic reds are purely factory-created kaiburr... technology has thus far been unable to replicate a perfect kaiburr such as those that grow in the wild."

"So, of course some point to a natural flaw of a mineral and attribute it to evil," Jolee muttered. "Your actions are your own, boy. Sure, you may find a different crystal suits you better these days, but I wouldn't bother with ephemeral definitions when even the Jedi Masters don't agree."

Dustil had taken out his lightsaber, one of the few things he had brought with him from the Academy. It activated with a hiss, the blood-red glowing faintly across the sands. Above him, pink streaks of sunset adorned the darkening sky, almost a perfect match for the corrupt colour in his grasp.

He was staring at Revan with a grimly intent look on his face.

"I missed out on the sparring," he muttered.

Revan drew back to him, pulling her gaze once more away from Yudan who was no more than a speck in the faraway dusk, now. The corner of her mouth twitched, and she tilted her head in acquiescence.

"Yudan may be right about crystals," Revan said, her training 'saber sparking back to life as she faced him. "But I think Juhani's got the handle on people. So, if you're looking at the likes of me and him and thinking you're screwed as well, then maybe you should ask Juhani about her trip along the Dark Side. Out of the lot of us, she's the one who holds true to the right path."

I blinked, feeling the warmth of an unexpected blush heat my cheeks. "You refuse to give yourself enough credit, Revan," I murmured, simultaneously uncomfortable and grateful for her regard. "I have never been tested as either you or Yudan have. And you stand in front of us all now, as a soul that may be hurt but is most assuredly shining with light."

Jolee snorted. "You could do with washing behind your ears a bit."

Dustil's expression had morphed into a scowl. "Light," he scoffed. "From Darth Revan? Are you frakking kidding me?" He took a step closer to Revan, raising his lightsaber. She should have demanded he hold a training weapon like her, but perhaps his own lethal blade gave him comfort, of a sort. And, truly, Dustil Onasi would not be any sort of danger to Revan, even if he were to try. "Master Uthar used to say one's true character came out in combat. Shall we give it a shot, Sith Lord?"

His words were both bitter and taunting, but didn't seem to reach Revan at all, who merely stared back at him with a mild expression and a nod of agreement.

My gaze travelled along the sprawling beach that disappeared into the encroachment of evening. I could not see Yudan Rosh anymore, but Carth's order for everyone to hold station sprang to mind. He would not be impressed with the departure of Yudan- and although the Twi'lek had not strode off in the direction of the pyramid, I could not help but be suspicious.

"I will be back shortly," I murmured, as Dustil stepped into his first attack.

xXx

I left Revan engaged with Dustil Onasi as they eyed each other from over their raised lightsabers. I suspected he planned to test her with jibes or wild attacks to see if she would fall victim to any sort of temper.

Dustil Onasi did not fully appreciate who she was or had been. Darth Revan would not have stood for a taunt from a child with a lightsaber, but the Revan that now was... I thought of her most like the Jedi Knight she had once been... and that person would have had time for the likes of Dustil Onasi.

Yet Revan was not the same person from a decade ago. My friend now bore cracks running along her soul, fault-lines that could be tapped into- but not by a wary kid almost as damaged as she. Not by Carth Onasi's son.

Myself, I had another quarry to follow.

My people had been a warrior race; fierce and proud enough that Cassus Fett thought to hunt us into extinction. It made him a despicable sentient, but it showed that the Cathar were worthy of notice. He respected our abilities, no matter what sort of evil man he was.

The planet Cathar had been destroyed whilst I was young enough still to clutch onto my mother's fur. I had little true recollection of the Cathar, and none of their training. Even so, it was likely my warrior's blood had something to do with my strengths as a Jedi. I was at home in the wild, and my senses would sing with the beat of a planet. I could stalk game or people as well as any seasoned tracker, and I was adept at minimizing both my physical and psychic presence.

My skill was not an invisibility such as young Onasi's; but a lessening of overt power. An exuding sense of non-threat that made beasts ignore me, and most sentients fail to notice.

I wasn't sure if it would work on Yudan Rosh; but then, he was likely mired in his own thoughts.

The planet hummed with life underneath my Force sense, but it was a simple, basic life. Plants and foliage and small night animals traipsing out from their burrows… nothing larger than a mink-rat, not nearby.

And through it all, the distant thrumming of Force power emanated from the pyramid, beating steadily like a faraway thunder drum.

I strode swiftly and silently over the sand as it rolled into gentle hills marred by the occasional tussock. The light was truly fading now, and nightfall was not far away. Over the next crest, I could see the dark gleam of water lapping gently across the shoreline, and the silhouette of a figure standing stationary, facing out into the ocean.

The entire scene looked too picturesque to be real. I began to understand Canderous' discomfort; everything here was too pretty, too perfect, too idyllic.

I preferred the wildness of Kashyyyk.

The Dark Jedi hadn't moved; his profile facing away from me into the horizon. Perhaps all he desired was a moment's peace, away from a crew that did not trust him – even if we had more than adequate reason.

I hesitated, then, as it became obvious to me that Yudan meant no betrayal, that there seemed no threat of him heading toward the Force beacon that called to us all. I was about to leave him to his privacy, when another life-form flickered on the periphery of my senses. A non-Force user – but a sentient nonetheless – coming in from the west.

I turned, recognizing the faint flare of life as familiar some seconds before he came into view. Canderous, dragging something large behind him attached to plysteel ropes, something that glinted metallic in the fading light. He was making a beeline for Yudan Rosh, who had also turned to face him.

I did not know if either man knew of my presence, and was not sure if I should interfere. Certainly, I was aware the men had unfinished business between them that had naught to do with me – and Canderous was the sort of man who believed in evening the scales.

But for all of his strengths, Canderous would be batted down like a dustball if he faced the likes of Yudan Rosh.

"Rosh," Canderous' voice floated through the stagnant air; harsh and guttural. "We've got matters to speak of, you and I."

"Ordo." Yudan acknowledged in a flat tone. "Say your piece, then."

Canderous stopped on the shoreline, some metres away from the Twi'lek. "Any other man I'd be seeing on the end of my fists," he stated, dropping the ropes that were held in his armoured grasp. "But I don't know if I can trust you to keep the Force out of it."

Yudan's expression did not change. "I don't need to use the Force to have it run through me, Ordo," he replied. "Any seasoned Force-user is augmented in such a fashion. Senses, reaction time, speed... these passive behaviours are honed the more one uses the Force, until they become nothing more than instinct." He shrugged. "I respect you, Ordo, but a fistfight between the two of us would be no contest."

Canderous folded his arms, staring hard at the man who faced him. "Revan didn't use the Force against Mand'alor."

"I'm sure she didn't. Overtly," Yudan drawled, turning away to face the indigo horizon. "I'm also sure that had she been wearing a neural disruptor your Mandalore would have gutted her two minutes in."

"Huh," Canderous grunted. There was an obvious note of interest in his gravelly voice. "Is that really what you think?"

"I think Revan did what she had to, to break the Clans." Yudan's return was almost monotone, but at least he gave Canderous the courtesy of an explanation. In that respect, he responded more to the Mandalorian than he had to me. "The conquest of the Mandalorians blindsided the galaxy. Revan needed to ensure your people were truly vanquished. The defeat of Mandalore in a public arena was part of that."

I recalled hearing about the fall of their leader, in hushed whispers around the Dantooine Enclave. Certainly, the Masters didn't appreciate talk of the rogue Coruscanti Knights, and I tended to avoid any sort of gossip... but I had idolized the Jedi Thirteen. Two in particular. And the end of a people who had all but wiped mine out had caused me a visceral pleasure that, even then, I knew was not healthy.

"The destruction of Malachor V was the rest of it," Canderous said slowly. "I can't deny she was the most formidable enemy we have faced in recent times, but we Mando'ade also respected her generals. Your name was well-known to us. Jaga's Cluster- that was an interesting attack vector your ships used. My clan leader suspected Revan's hand in that, but I'd heard she was tied up in the front at Iridonia at the time."

Yudan shrugged as he swung back to face Canderous. This time, I saw his gaze land on me, further back in the shadows, and knew I had been sighted. "I had command at Jaga's Cluster, Ordo," he said flatly. "And, if you recall, that was a Fett victory."

"Yes," Canderous agreed, stringing the word out slowly. "But that wasn't surprising, given the ambush from the Neo-Crusaders. We made damn sure your intelligence didn't know about them. But what was surprising was how many Republic ships made it to safety- and the sneak attack that almost took Cassus out. Whose strategy was that?"

"Mine." Yudan's voice was terse, and travelled well across the cooling sands. "I would never diminish Revan's strategic competency, but her greater brilliance was in leadership. In recognizing the strength of her generals and placing them where they could most benefit the Republic." He sighed, barely audible, before continuing his discourse. "It is not arrogance to say I worked well with the Fleet commanders, although I was not the only Jedi who did so. Cariaga and Talvon, also, were heavily involved with the Republic Navy. But Revan had little power over the intergalactic media, and it irritated her when the accomplishments of others were accredited to her."

I found myself struck with surprise at the sheer quantity of words coming from the normally reserved man. Perhaps he felt he owed Canderous. Perhaps I was right to believe Yudan Rosh worthy of redemption... but approaching the topic myself had been the wrong tactic.

"Such are the holonets," Canderous said dryly. "There's a reason my people despise reporters."

There was a short noise from Yudan; almost a chuckle. "In that respect I defer to the wisdom of the Mandalorians."

"Still," Canderous continued. He didn't sound willing to let the topic die. "Jaga's Cluster was one of the turning points. Your move was unexpected. Fett lost his Second, and his standing with Mand'alor diminished, after that." He shrugged, a strangely thoughtful look crossing his weathered face. "Our advance deep into Republic airspace had made us bold; arrogant, maybe. We believed we could predict the reactions of the Republic forces; know when they would run, know when they would cower behind civilian worlds as if it were an adequate shield. Mand'alor could see his battle song of victory written in the stars… until Revan entered the war."

"She understood a certain ruthlessness was required," Yudan returned. He paused, and the moment sat heavy in the air. "Just as she once understood the true purpose behind the Mandalorian offensive was to flush the Jedi out."

I stepped closer, close enough to attract the attention of Canderous, who raised a brow in surprise at my presence, but nonetheless turned his attention back to Yudan.

"We invaded to expand our territory, Rosh."

Yudan snorted. "That might have been Mandalore's rally cry, but I don't buy it. I spent a lot of time studying your people, Ordo; you honour combat for the testing of mettle, and expansion of territory is part of that. But you know the folly of over-extension. Push victory too far, and you cannot build nor guard your Clan successfully. And what is more integral to a Mandalorian than family?"

Canderous was shaking his head. "You may think you understand my people, Rosh, but you underestimate our might. We could have held the Core-"

"No," Yudan said flatly, as if daring Canderous to disagree with him. My ears flattened against my head; Canderous was not one to take rebuttals lightly, and certainly not about his own people. "I don't slight the strength of the Clans, Ordo. I was held prisoner by them for weeks, and I fought them for years. I have tested your people's might, and I've no doubt you would have won without Revan's interference- but your newfound empire would not have lasted. Even with Mandalore's adoption filling your ranks and the Neo-crusaders of the Fett, you had too few warriors to hold the Core for long. Too many sectors. Too many planets. The offensive was never designed to control the whole of the Republic."

"Do you really believe so?" I whispered, frowning at the Twi'lek, stepping close enough to join their conversation. He shot a sideways glance at me. "That the whole of the Mandalorian Wars was naught more than a lure for the Jedi? That is terrible-"

"The Jedi would have been valued as a worthy opponent to Mand'alor," Yudan answered in a low voice. "Perhaps that was the whole of it. Or, perhaps there was another reason."

"I'd call that a load of kriffing rubbish, Rosh. But-" Canderous paused; his voice was harsh and low, and yet there seemed no anger in the lines of his posture, no belligerence looking for an out toward the Dark Jedi who had fought against his people.

"But?" The reply back was almost a taunt; not quite, but almost.

Canderous grunted. "I'll admit some of the clan leaders wondered at Mand'alor's continued expansion. He'd a vision, at the start, of galactic superiority- but as the Wars dragged on and the Jedi Thirteen emerged as worthy foes, overextension was raised more than once. Huh. I ain't sure you're right, Rosh."

"But you're not sure I'm wrong, either."

"Maybe." Canderous shifted on the sand, looking back to me before facing Yudan again. "You got one thing spot on, though. Clan is of fundamental importance to us. Who's your clan, Rosh?"

At that pointed question, a flicker of startlement chased across of the enigmatic Twi'lek's face before dying back beneath his standard impassivity. "I have none left, Ordo. Any family I once had are long dead or as good as."

Canderous snorted. "Clan ain't all about blood, Rosh. Some clan you are born to. Some you choose. My people are Ordo, and I'll return to them one day soon. But my people are also those onboard the Ebon Hawk. I gave you a chance when we left Kashyyyk- and aye, I get your reasons for what happened on the Leviathan. But I don't trust you, not yet." He loosed a harsh gust of air. "And while I may not have the Force, I've taken down Force-users before. You cause any danger to any of the crew, and I'll make sure you're the next one on my list."

My gaze shot to Yudan swiftly; he offered no reply, merely stared back at Canderous steadily as if acknowledging the threat, and accepting it. Canderous wasn't a match head-on for the likes of Yudan Rosh or any experienced Force-user- but Canderous was also the sort to spit in the face of a fair fight.

Even a Jedi could be taken out by a single blaster shot to the head.

Canderous knew, more than I, that there was nothing fair when it came to war. Or to one's enemies. And I understood then, as I glanced back at the silent Twi'lek still appraising Canderous, that perhaps Yudan Rosh knew this as well.

Having said his piece, Canderous bent down to gather up the salvage he had collected. With plysteel ropes in hand, he glanced one last time at the silent Twi'lek.

"Things change, Rosh. Maybe you should think about who your Clan is now." With that parting shot, Canderous began trekking back toward the Ebon Hawk, offering me naught more than a sharp nod of acknowledgment as he passed. Yudan pivoted away from us both, once more staring out into the nothingness of dusk.

I waited in silence, as Canderous' footsteps padded away. I felt like I, still, had more to say to the man who'd once been a hero to my younger eyes. And yet my sense of privacy still smarted at his mental intrusion from earlier. I could have accepted anger from him; mockery, even, when I raised the topic of redemption. But to delve, unwelcome, into my mind and pull out details of my own fall, and that of Quatra-

Somehow, I thought it likely he saw it as no more than a slight transgression- if he even recalled it at all.

"What is it, Cathar?" he said, his back still turned to me.

I could not forget what he had once been. The Jedi Order may have disavowed the actions of all the rogue Jedi who fought in the Mandalorian Wars – and I held myself to the precepts of the Order – but I honoured the Jedi Thirteen regardless. They had risked everything to fight for those who had quailed beneath the might of the Mandalorians.

And my people had been among them.

"I met Revan once, when I was a kit," I said softly. I was unsure why I was broaching a conversation like this, but the same part of me that yearned to reach the damaged souls we met on Korriban looked at Yudan Rosh in the same light. No matter that Dak's voice drawled in my head: you're an idiot, Juhani. Give over already. He would roll his eyes in that peculiar Human habit if he was here.

I missed my old friend, I realized.

Yudan Rosh had swivelled back to stare at me once more, but offered no response.

I tilted my head. "It was on Taris, just as she was heading to the front lines to join the war effort against the Mandalorians. There were a group of Jedi Knights with her. I find myself wondering if you were, too."

The silence stretched out between us, and he remained impassive for perhaps a full minute, before offering an aloof: "I was."

He was not interested in making conversation with me; in truth, I was uncomfortable as well. I sighed, my gaze drifting to the endless water that seemed so often to capture his attention. "I do not recall the Jedi she was with, only that there were some. Other than her and Meetra Surik, the rest of you were simply a blur of righteous warriors to me; guardians of justice and defenders of innocence." A soft chuckle left my lips. "I am afraid I was somewhat of a romantic, then."

"You met Meetra," he said. His voice was quiet, but there was an inflection there that had been missing before. Interest.

"Yes," I said softly, meeting his flawed gaze once more. "Revan liberated me from slavery, but she did so from afar. It was Meetra who recognized my Force sensitivity, and ultimately sent me on a course to Dantooine, the nearest Jedi Enclave."

Revan had made it obvious – without meaning too – that she had no memory of Meetra Surik. The name meant nothing to her, despite how close they must have once been. Meetra had been an idol of mine once, perhaps even more so than Revan – for there was one obvious difference between the two: Meetra Surik never fell to the Dark Side.

She never followed Revan and Malak past Malachor.

Whatever happened to her afterward was a mystery, but the Republic lauded her and Xaset Terep as the only remaining heroes from that time. It always struck me as odd that the Masters in the Order refused to speak of them.

"That doesn't surprise me," Yudan said. "Meetra had a gift for recognizing the Force in people. She was a unique individual."

"What happened to her after Malachor?" I breathed. "The Jedi do not speak of her and Xaset… but they should. They should."

Yudan was silent for a moment, his intent gaze holding mine firmly before his mouth tightened and he began to speak. "Meetra and Xaset were amongst our more gifted ground generals. They were instrumental in the victory at Malachor V, but they paid the heaviest price for it." His voice had turned hard, cold, and he glared at me as if in condemnation for raising the subject. "The Order should have acknowledged them, but instead they did the unforgiveable."

"What?" I whispered, blinking. "What do you mean?"

"None of your concern, Cathar," he bit out. Dusk had truly fallen now, and Yudan Rosh was no more than a shadow towering in front of me, the last of daylight glinting against the unnatural yellow of his burning eyes. "Malachor is a subject none of us who were there like to speak of. Perhaps you should ask your Mandalorian if you are so interested."

For Revan does not recall.

The words were unspoken, but I felt he had heard them as much as me. I breathed in a gulp of air. "You do realize she has some memory of her past?"

"She doesn't remember me. She doesn't remember Meetra." Yudan gave a short, bitter laugh. "Shavit, I don't think she even recalls Malak."

I knew he was wrong on that, at least. "Perhaps it is a mercy," I said softly. "I cannot think how hard this will be for her, confronting her past demons."

"Indeed." His voice had turned smooth; his face, composed. And I realized with a sudden flush of chagrin that he, too, would be facing the same past. And yet, Yudan Rosh had once more morphed into the indifferent spectre he so liked to emulate. "I will see this out to the end, Cathar. I know you followed me here in suspicion, and I do not blame you for that. But speak of lofty ideals like redemption to me again, and things will go worse than last time."

I felt my lips purse and my temper rise at the unexpected threat. "I understand," I said stiffly, once more disliking the odious man who had somehow become part of our crew. "Perhaps we should return to the Ebon Hawk, then, as neither of us should have left in the first place."

"Lead the way, Cathar." The damnable man sounded amused, now. "I shall follow."

xXx

Author's Note:
Coming up next: Jolee's POV as the repairs near completion, and one of the crew goes missing.

Thanks kosiah for the beta.