Author's note: Sorry this took so long. Thanks for being patient. And please continue to write reviews. I do take your ideas into consideration and enjoy reading them.
Chapter 4
Ayla's Conflict
Day 1
The roar of the swoop engine slowly died as Ayla crossed the finish line. She pulled her vehicle to the side of the track, where she was assisted by some Selkath. She climbed out of her swoop bike, still shaking form the excitement of the race, but also in disappointment. She and her bike had not exercised the sport for a while, and now, she found that she came in second to last place. True, the engine was malfunctioning slightly, but it was nothing that she could put the blame upon. As her swoop bike was being dragged away into the hanger for safe keeping, she headed to the exit of the swoop track.
Wow, that was bad, she thought. Well, it could be worse.
As Ayla stepped outside, the crowd watching the telemonitors was still present, cheering the winner. She hoped to sneak past but the instant they saw her, the celebrating turned to sneers and jibes. Ayla quickly pushed her way past, ignoring them.
She made her way to the back of the room, planning on leaving the swoop track arena but not having a destination in mind. However, she caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw Canderous leaning against the wall, looking directly at her.
Happy to see a familiar face, Ayla walked over to his position.
"Was wondering if you were ever going to notice me," Canderous said, giving a small smile.
"What are you doing here?" Ayla asked.
Canderous shrugged his shoulders. "Watching the swoop racing. Got interested in the sport after living on Taris for a while. It isn't like there's much to do around here. And by the way, good job."
Ayla frowned. She could detect no sarcasm in his tone but she was not certain how else to treat that comment. "Did you see my heat? I did exceptionally bad."
"Compared to the other swoop racers, maybe, but your time was good. Even so, you were doing so well in the beginning that you probably would've won except for what I assume was an engine problem."
"I even noticed the problem beforehand, but there wouldn't have been enough time to fix it before the race, so I hoped I could've dealt with. I'm not surprised, though. Kind of had the feeling I was going to lose."
"And yet you raced anyway. Why?"
Ayla thought for a moment. "I just love swoop racing."
Canderous smiled. "Exactly."
"What do you mean?"
"Even though you were going to lose, you raced anyway, and raced as best as you could. Don't you see what I'm getting at?"
"You . . ." Ayla hesitated but then remembered who she was talking to. "You are relating my swoop racing to the Mandalorian Wars?"
"Right. I'm often asked why we invaded such a great power as the Republic, but the timing was just so prefect. Sure, we knew that losing wasn't too distant an outcome, but we fought anyway."
"Your people love battle. And even though you did lose, your people will be remembered."
Canderous seemed surprised. "Very true."
Suddenly, Ayla heard the sound of boos. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that some of the swoop fans were not letting up on the insults.
"Let's get out of here," Canderous suggested and started to walk off.
Ayla was quick to follow and together they exited the swoop track arena.
It was not until the building was out of site that Ayla became more relaxed. She considered continuing her conversation with the Mandalorian when something caught her eye. She focused on it, realizing it was a brightly lit sign promoting the Selkath festival. Indeed, she had heard much about the festival and seen a few advertisements, but none were as colorful or revealed as much information about it as this one.
Hm . . . Ayla thought, looks interesting. Food. Dancing. Live entertainment. Games. No, I can't go. It's probably not that great, anyway. But it is something to do. And what harm is done? No, I won't go against what Bastila said. Her thoughts were soon cut off by Canderous' voice, but she could not make out what it said.
"What?" she said, sounding dazed.
"You thinking about going?" Canderous asked, gesturing towards the sign.
"Um . . ." Ayla hesitated, wondering why Canderous would want to know, "not really. It's kind of expensive."
"Yeah."
Ayla continued to stare at the sign for a moment until she realized how quiet it was. She turned to Canderous and saw him staring at the sign as well.
He continued to look at it for a moment, reading the descriptions, until his eyes turned to Ayla. Seeing that he was being watched, he quickly folded his arms and turned his head to the ground.
"There's nothing to do around here," he continued. "I mean, the only thing seems to be this stupid dance. It must be the biggest thing all year."
"Yeah, it's supposed to have live entertainment and plenty of food. Earlier today, I saw the building that they were hosting it at and it was huge, probably the largest building in the city."
"I bet."
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Not far away, Carth was briskly walking towards the swoop track. Earlier he was at the Ebon Hawk, hoping that Ayla would be there, but when he saw that both she and the swoop bike were missing, he decided that the swoop track would be the next best place to look for her.
He could barely hear the crowds around him as he was preoccupied with his own thoughts. Just go straight out and ask her. "Would you like to go to the dance with me?". . . but what if she gets the wrong idea? Dammit, she's a Jedi! Jedi don't go to dances. No, she's not a typical Jedi. I've already thought this through. I'm just going to ask her and see . . .
Carth's feet abruptly stopped. Ayla was just ahead of him—but also Canderous. By the looks of it, the two of them were talking about something. He watched them for a moment and considered not approaching her at all. Damn you, Canderous! Of all the people she could be talking to, why does it have to be you? No, I won't let Canderous prevent me from doing something important.
He forced himself to approach them. At first, they did not see him, but when he forced a cough, they finally noticed.
"What do you want?" Canderous asked in a snide manner.
He thought he had everything figured out, but Canderous' rude greeting only made him angry. He never liked the Mandalorian and they would often try to avoid confrontation. He desperately wanted to yell at him, but he could not do it, not in front of Ayla.
"Ayla," he said, giving Canderous a sideways glance, "can I speak to you later? Alone? Without anyone else?"
"Sure," Ayla replied, trying to sound pleasant even though she knew very well of the hatred the two of them had for each other. "I'll see you shortly."
Carth nodded. "I'll meet you back on the Ebon Hawk."
He forced himself to give Ayla a small smile despite the presence of Canderous and quickly headed back in the direction of the ship.
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"You really shouldn't be so mean to him."
"What? I don't like him. He oozes Republic ideology."
"You could at least pretend to get along with him."
"That would be . . . very un-Mandalorian."
"It isn't un-Mandalorian and you know it."
Canderous sighed. "Can we change the conversation?"
"To what?"
He was silent for a moment, then jerked his head towards the Shlekfest sign. "You weren't thinking about going, were you?"
"You already asked me that earlier," Ayla replied.
"Right."
Ayla frowned. There was something suspicious in his manner. "Were you thinking about going?"
"No! Why would I go to something like that?"
"I don't know, maybe if you were extremely bored. You did bring it up again."
"What else is there to talk about?"
Ayla shrugged her shoulders. There was another pause.
"Canderous," Ayla said softly, making a guess about where he wanted to take the conversation, "were you trying to ask me to go to the dance?"
Canderous cleared his throat. "Well, I just thought that . . . I mean, there's not much else to do and . . . it's not the sort of thing you would go to . . . alone, is it?"
She gave him a warming smile. "Sure, I'd like to go to the dance with you."
Canderous' lips formed a small smile in return. "Well, then . . ." he nodded his head slightly, "that's good."
He reached over and heavily placed a hand on her shoulder. At first, Ayla was uncertain of the gesture and regarded it just as something Canderous does until she suddenly remembered that Mandalorians would place their hands on each other's shoulders as a sign of camaraderie. She could not recall where she had heard of this but something inside told her it was true. And so, she extended the arm which Canderous laid his hand on top of and rested it upon his shoulder.
He seemed pleased by the gesture and smiled in a manner that she had never seen from him. She could almost regard it as even a friendly smile.
Ayla felt like speaking again to him, but he let his arm fall back to his side and began to turn away. She knew she could always call out his name and try to continue the conversation but decided that this was perhaps a better way of ending it. Even so, she knew she would have other opportunities to talk to him.
It was not until he was no longer in sight Ayla realized that she could indeed be in trouble with her Jedi mentor.
Jolee did not even try to suppress his yawn. He felt as if he had seen everything in Ahto City and nothing appealed to him; the theaters were showing old movies, swoop racing was dull, and he had no one to go with to the dance.
A vacant bench looked rather inviting, so Jolee sat down, giving his legs a rest, and started to think. For a while, he was preoccupied with the HK and who it could possibly want to bring, but having not seen the droid all day made him lose interest. And besides, Jolee thought, what about me? I should start considering who I might go with, not about what that killing machine might do.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a break in the dense crowd of Selkath, revealing Mission. She, too, was sitting on a bench across the large threshold. Jolee waved, but she did not respond. Her head rested on one of her hands and was bent towards the ground. She seemed so sad, sitting alone, that it made Jolee feel sad as well. Mission was always the one to be so cheerful, lifting the crew's spirits when they were upset. In fact, Jolee could not remember a time when he had never seen her sad, even though he was well aware that she suffered the burden of witnessing the destruction of her planet.
But suddenly, he had an idea. I'm going to make her happy and I know just how—Mission, how about going to the dance with me?
Jolee leapt from his seat, eagerly approaching Mission.
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"Exclamation: There she is!"
HK-47 extended a jointed finger, pointing at the young Twi'lek sitting on the bench.
T3-M4 beeped wildly.
"Assurance: Do not worry. I shall not forget all that I have learned."
HK-47 locked his optic sensors on his target and approached with the same determination as when about to attack an unassuming hostile.
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Mission sat lethargically on the bench. Everything was so repetitive and uniform, it was like she already knew the whole planet. And worst of all, she was in a rather boring disposition. Why did Zaalbar have to see "A Gizka Love Story"! Geez, I hope that it isn't too much longer! It's already been three hours! Her unfocused eyes still remained on the ground as she tried to get lost in her own thoughts and forget the time she was wasting. It was a trick she was rather good at and sometimes used it during the long space flights when no one else wanted to do anything with her. This trick was often just considered simple daydreaming, but to Mission, it prevented her from dying of boredom. Even so, she became so entranced with her thoughts, she did not see the two crew members running towards her.
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If Jolee had not been so enthusiastic, he would have gone around the large group of Selkath that suddenly converged on his path. Instead, he found himself trying to go straight through them, refusing to deviate. He tried to weave around the bodies, but the task was impossible. The Selkath were so tightly packed that it left little space for him to maneuver. He tried to call out for them to move but they acted even more resistant, moving closer to each other.
Worried that he might lose sight of Mission or make a sudden disappearance, Jolee did what was his last available option—he used Force Wave, knocking down the surrounding aliens. Their cries of shock as they fell to the ground were barely noticeable to the old man as he proceeded onward, stepping on some if necessary. It was then he knew that nothing would stop him from asking Mission.
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A group of young Selkath children happened to be playing right in the way of HK-47. He hated the sight of children laughing and playing, and decided for his own personal enjoyment to ruin it. He pushed past them, knocking some down. Some of the children cried out, but his auditory sensors were tuned out as all his energy was focused solely on Mission. Nothing would stop him from asking her.
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This is ridiculous! thought Mission, pulling herself out of her daydreaming. I might as well just sit through "A Gizka Love Story" as well. Maybe it has its good moments, or better, maybe it's at the end.
She stood up from her seat but did not take more than a few steps . . .
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"Mission!" Jolee shouted.
The young Twi'lek turned in his direction and gave a small smile.
He was about to say more when he was tripped by an angry Selkath for knocking him down. Jolee stumbled but attempted to keep his balance. His arms waved in the air, trying to grab at something to hold him up. However, the only thing he was able to grab was Mission.
He heard her cry out his name as she slouched forward with his weight, but he knew they were not going to fall over. She still stood firmly while he still had his tight grip. Oh, well, he thought, so much for first impressions.
But just then, HK-47 pushed past a person that was standing in his view of Mission. When he was able to see her again, he had already bumped into her and both sides fell to the ground.
HK-47 and Jolee quickly sat up, glaring at one another in both surprise and anger until they heard Mission groaning.
"Proposition:" began HK-47, "Let me help you up."
The droid grabbed Mission by the arm and slowly began to bring her up from the floor.
"Wait," said Jolee, grabbing her other open arm, "Let me do it."
Together, they brought Mission to her feet.
"Wha-what's the big idea?" asked Mission, glancing at each of them. "Why did you guys run into me like that?"
"Mission, I have something very important to say to you," Jolee said, out of breath.
"As do I," said HK-47.
One tried to speak before the other could, but they ended up instead speaking simultaneously: "Will you go to the dance with me?"
"What?" Mission asked, incredulously. "Is this a joke?"
"Wait," Jolee said turning to HK-47, "I want to go to the dance with Mission!"
"As do I," the droid said.
"No, you can't! I-I-"
"Interruption: We both asked at the same time. Hm. Interesting."
"Interruption:" Mission mimicked, "What's going on? You both want to go with me to the dance?"
"I guess so." Jolee replied, still trying to accept the idea. "I mean, I had no idea the droid wanted to, too."
"Oh," Mission said, slightly embarrassed. "So then, um, I guess I'm going to have to pick."
"No!" HK-47 blurted. "Statement: You don't have to do a thing, my dear, Jolee and I will decide for you."
"Whatever you say, I'm not going to agree with it," Jolee said folding his arms in stubbornness. "Whatever deal or offer, nope; I really want to go with Mission!"
"Proposition: My suggestion is not that we make an agreement, but that we fight over her!"
"Fight?" Mission and Jolee both exclaimed simultaneously.
"But you can't do that here," said Mission. "Remember? Security is strict."
"Jolee and I with fight outside on the cargo docks where there is no security."
"Fight?" Jolee repeated, still overwhelmed.
"Yes, fight. Fight just like how in nature, male animals fight over their mates, and we shall do the same."
"Yeah?" said Mission. "But this is just for a dance, not for some mate."
"Of course," said HK-47, hesitantly.
"Don't worry, Mission," Jolee said, assuredly, "I'll fight him."
"Excellent," the droid said, rather maliciously. "Jolee, how about we meet outside the Ebon Hawk tomorrow at six, and from there, we go out and find a location most suitable for the fight."
"In the morning?"
"In the morning."
"And, um, this won't be to the death, right?"
The droid let out an agitated sigh. "Fine. This will only be for a. . . knockout."
"Got it."
Jolee and HK-47 shook hands and set off in different directions, their minds welling in hatred of the other. Meanwhile, Mission just continued along her original course to the theater.
Ayla was still troubled by the prospect of going against Bastila's instructions, but also felt that Bastila was perhaps not acting within her ordinary norm. She seemed so much more troubled and frustrated even though these next few days were supposed to be spent relaxing. And what was worse was Ayla did not know what to do about it. Bastila was her mentor and confident in her own abilities. If I try to contact her directly, she'll probably deny her actions or find some sort of justification in it.
However, as soon as she caught sight of the Ebon Hawk, she pushed her present thoughts to the back of her mind. Even though she was not in the mood to talk to anyone, she knew she should still speak to Carth after telling him she would meet him. I don't have to talk to him for very long, just enough for him to say what he wants. I still need to find a solution to my problem.
After boarding the ship, she went straight to the cockpit and, just as she assumed, Carth was sitting in his usual pilot's seat. He turned around as he heard the footsteps and smiled when he saw her.
"Hey, Ayla," Carth said, standing from his seat to face her.
Ayla forced herself to give a friendly smile despite the troubled thoughts in her mind.
"Hi, Carth, you wanted to speak to me about something?" she said, wanting to get the conversation over with.
"I've just been noticing that you've been acting . . . differently."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that you've been acting more . . ." Carth hesitated, trying to find the right word, "Jedi-like."
"Carth, I am a Jedi."
"I know, I know. But you didn't always used to act like this even when you became a Jedi."
"How so?"
"Well, for one thing, you used to be more independent, and now you just seem to listen to Bastila."
"Bastila's in charge."
"I know, but I when we were on Taris, you didn't let her push us around and even told her off a couple of times. Remember when you told her that she underestimated us 'non-Jedi?'"
"I remember."
"Well, you are a Jedi now, so I guess it doesn't mean much to you, but still, you've also become a lot stiffer."
"I'm just trying to abide by the rules more. In fact, I'm not as stiff as a Jedi should be."
"But . . . you aren't like a normal Jedi. There's more to you than that. You're . . . you're better than that."
Ayla paused for a moment. "Carth, I really need to try to behave more like a Jedi. No question about it."
"But they're destroying who you are. They're taking your identity and molding it into their own image. You're a unique person. Don't let them take that away from you."
Ayla gave a weary smile. "I do sometimes struggle with the Jedi ways, but in order to be a Jedi, I have to abide by them. I can't just decide which rules to follow and which ones not to."
Ayla turned her face away from Carth. His conversation was making her feel worse about the decision she made and regretted talking to him at all.
"You didn't ask to be a Jedi," Carth continued. "The decision was forced upon you."
"Carth, that's enough," Ayla said and started to leave.
"Wait!"
Ayla stopped and reluctantly looked back at the pilot. "What?"
"I-I didn't mean to make you upset," Carth said, turning his face to the ground. "I just . . . want you to be happy, that's all."
The Jedi's lips formed to make a small smile. "I know. Maybe you're right. Perhaps I'm being a little stiff."
She was about to leave again when Carth said her name. She turned back. "Yes?"
"I also wanted to . . . ask you about something."
Ayla nodded her head, encouraging for him to continue.
"It's just . . . do you want to go to the dance with me?"
When Ayla could see the suspension in Carth's face and hope in his eyes. She feigned a cough in order to find a more delicate way of answering.
"I would love to, but I can't," she said earnestly.
"Don't tell me that Bastila has forbidden you to go," Carth said seriously.
Ayla nervously laughed. "No, it's just that I'm already going with someone else."
"Oh," Carth said, looking crestfallen, "who're you going with?"
Ayla took in a deep breath. This could be bad. "Canderous."
Carth raised his eyebrows, his face betraying his evident surprise. "Canderous!"
Ayla nodded.
Carth turned away and sat heavily in his pilot's seat.
"We could do something together next time," Ayla suggested.
"Why Canderous?" Carth asked, staring at the control panel. "That Mandalorian hasn't a shred of decency."
Ayla sighed, knowing that no matter what she said concerning Canderous would only make Carth even more upset.
"You could still go to the dance," she said, changing the subject.
"On second thought, I don't know if I should."
"Why not?"
"I'm not really into those sorts of things."
"Then why did you ask me?"
"I just don't see much of a point if I can't go with someone."
"Well, there are other people you could ask."
Carth turned to face her. "Like who? Mission thinks of me as being old and will probably end up with Zaalbar. Juhani hates men—"
"What makes you say that?"
"It's a painfully long story that I'd rather not get into. Anyway, and Bastila . . . well, is Bastila."
A smile crept over Ayla's face. "That's it!"
"What?"
"You can go with Bastila!"
"No. No way. I don't think I can even have a decent conversation with her, much less invite her to a dance!"
"Come now, Carth, don't tell me you're afraid of her."
"She's not going to agree."
"You were just telling me earlier that I was being too stiff. Well, I think that Bastila has become really stressed. In fact, while everyone is taking these three days off, she isn't. She hasn't done anything relaxing except trying to meditate, and even then she tells me she can't stay focused."
"Well, what she wants to do on her days off is up to her."
"But she seems so stressed. Please, Carth, at least go over and ask her."
Carth let out a long sigh. "Fine. Fine. You could go with Canderous, and I could probably go with Bastila."
"Thanks, Carth."
"Well, don't thank me yet. This might not work. Besides, do you even know where she is?"
"She's probably—"
"Right behind you."
Ayla and Carth spun around. Standing right inside the entry way to the cockpit was Bastila, her face flushed and eyebrows furrowed with evident anger.
Carth gave Ayla a cursory glance before turning back to Bastila. "You've been eavesdropping!" he said accusingly.
Bastila's eyes flared. "No, Carth. I went to the cockpit with the intention of checking the ship's systems because I figured with the three days rest, no one would do such a task. Anyway, you both talk so loud, your voices echo, so I could not help but to hear a mention of Ayla going to the dance with Canderous," she shot Ayla a fiery glare, "and an idea concerning Carth bringing me to the dance."
"Bastila, I can explain," Ayla said, trying to save the situation. "I just thought that you could—"
"This is not about me," Bastila snapped. "Ayla, I am very disappointed in you. When I give you instructions, I expect them to be fulfilled to the best of your ability. Not only have you disobeyed me, but you did it behind my back, just proving how much you regard my guidance. And now you conjured an elaborate scheme concerning bringing me to the dance."
"Aren't you overreacting?" Carth asked. "Going to a dance isn't a crime. And your friends being concerned about you is not some sort of scheme."
"I do not expect you to understand, Carth," Bastila said, keeping her focus on Ayla. "This relates to the principle of obeying Jedi orders."
Ayla found herself unable to say anything. There was nothing she really could say to make things better. The situation still stood—she disobeyed Bastila's orders.
Perhaps Carth would have said more, but Bastila abruptly left the cockpit, leaving the two of them alone.
"Ayla," Carth said in a consoling voice, "you have done nothing wrong. In fact, you're right. Bastila is acting very odd."
Ayla shook her head. "I'm sorry. I . . . I need to be left alone for a little while."
Before Carth could say anything more, Ayla left the cockpit and headed towards the exit ramp, deep in her own thoughts.