FIFTEEN

Pellek tossed the last bag of blaster bolts out of the cargo hold of the Hawk. Tykhol caught it against his chest and waved a hand up to her, saying something in Vintari. Pellek, assuming he was just acknowledging the catch, shouted down, "Yeah, thanks!" Tykhol shook his head, repeating whatever he had said.

"He asked if there were any more rifles in here," Revan said, coming up behind her. She walked to the edge of the hold hatch and called down something in Vintari. Tykhol waved up and walked away.

Pellek was already on her way out of the cargo hold. "Pel, wait," Revan said. Pellek froze in midstep, hand on the hatch. "You've been avoiding me all week," Revan continued, walking around to face Pellek. In doing so, she blocked the doorway. Pellek couldn't get away unless she pushed through Revan.

Typical. Revan had maneuvered her into a place where she had to either look like a scared youngling or talk to Revan like the woman wanted. Pellek stood straight and looked Revan in the eyes. "It's been a busy two weeks," she said truthfully. The Jedi were training the Force adepts how to use their powers in battle. "And we have nothing to say to each other, Revan."

Revan frowned. "I don't understand your anger. Is it because I became Darth Revan?" she asked. "I've been redeemed, you know. New name and everything. It wasn't your fault, Pel. It wasn't because of Malachor."

"Of course it wasn't my fault!" Pellek exploded. It was so typical of Revan to think that others felt guilty about her own fall. "How could it have been? You'd already fallen by then, you and Malak both! All of that death on Malachor must have just been intoxicating to you."

"So you knew," Revan said quietly. "I was never sure if you could see it in us or not. I was never ashamed about my Darkness, except when I was with you. Malachor wasn't a Dark act, though—we had to do it to end the war."

"You weren't there," Pellek growled. If she closed her eyes now she would see the bridge of her warship around her, feel the shockwave of the mass shadow generator. "You didn't feel all of those soldiers die. It damaged the Force, Revan. It created a—a void that can't be filled. Where do you think these new Sith came from? We created them."

It was the answer to the question Revan had asked on the Hawk a week ago, the one thing Pellek knew Revan didn't understand about the new Sith. "How do you know this?" Revan asked, eyes narrowing.

Pellek could swear she heard Kreia's harsh laughter. "It doesn't matter. I gave the order at Malachor, it was my crime. I knew I shouldn't have, but I let myself listen to you again and again. That weakness was my mistake."

"Pel, I know I manipulated your feelings for me, but—" Revan began.

Pellek gave a bark of laughter that might have been a sob. Somehow she couldn't keep herself from saying things she thought she had buried. "I loved you, Revan. But hell, everyone loves you, don't they? Malak, Mandalore, the Admiral, his son. Your crimes get forgiven, even by yourself. Well, love isn't enough for my crimes."

Revan was suddenly holding her hands. "That's not true, Pel. You've always loved, that's what made you special. That's what lets you make those Force connections—you see the good in people, and you love that goodness. You're special, you always have been."

"She's right, General," Bao-Dur whispered in her ear. Pellek knew he wouldn't be visible if she turned her head, but she could feel him in the Force. "Everyone in your army loved you, even after Malachor. Everyone on the Hawk loved you."

Revan continued, almost desperately, "Anger leads to the Dark side, even when it's against someone else. Blame me if you want, but don't—"

Pellek jerked her hands away. She wouldn't let Revan lull her into a lie this time. "Don't you get it?" she hissed. "I don't blame you. That would be like blaming a kinrath for being poisonous—you can't change your nature. I blame myself." She shoved past Revan and off the ship.

Bastila paused as Pellek blew by, anger trailing the Exile like a cloud and practically shaking the trees between them. Bastila briefly wondered what could have happened to create such a disturbance in the Force, but her attention was taken up by a hand pushing her hair away from her face. The Exile's problems went quite to the side as Bastila smiled and leaned back into Gellan's kiss.

"We're neglecting our duties shamefully," she murmured against his lips.

"Surely we untrained Force adepts can go one afternoon without your wisdom," he replied, moving from her lips to the line of her jaw.

"You as well?" she asked, pushing him away teasingly.

His dark eyes crinkled in a smile. "Not me, Master Jedi. I'm afraid I'm a very poor student. Remedial education may be called for." He took her hands in his and kissed his way up her wrists to the sleeves of her Jedi robe.

They were in a copse of trees not far from the Ebon Hawk, the shaggy branches of the evergreens shielding them from casual view. Bastila was pressed up against crossing tree roots that lifted from the ground like a giant's knees. The afternoon air was brisk and scented with pine.

Perhaps it was Atton's sly comments about love leading to the Light, or perhaps it was seeing how Case and Carth reveled in each other's presence. But somehow, in the past two weeks, Bastila had allowed her restrained attraction to Gellan become something much more. Maybe it was because they trained and worked with each other every day, or maybe it was the constant stress that the camp would be discovered, but the feelings between the two of them grew faster than she could have imagined. In spite of the short time she had known Gellan outside of the prison, Bastila had never felt so completely comfortable with anyone before.

She ran her hands along the back of Gellan's tunic, feeling the rough fabric catch on her skin. The exposed skin of his neck was hot to her touch.

Equally as exciting as the feel of his body was the touch of his mind. She had never been intimate with a Force sensitive man, and she was surprised at how quickly their auras intertwined. Not a Bond, of course, but she could hear his heartbeat thrumming against hers, feel his pleasure and nervousness and joy as clearly as she could her own. Bastila concentrated and reached for him with the Force, showing him how to see her with those senses. He caught on immediately, pulling her to him. His emotions spun with hers, each pulling the other higher and higher, into an impossible spiral. Bastila arched her body against him, feeling the last threads of her reserve falling away—

—and there it was, a clear path to the Force, shining with power and promise. She could take Gellan's feelings for her and use them to make herself stronger. There was power all around her for the taking—she just had to open herself up to it, just had to let her building ecstasy show her the way. She just had to—

"No, Gellan," she gasped, pushing him back. "No, no." She winced at the panic in her voice.

Gellan practically leapt off of her, eyes wide. "I thought—I'm sorry—are you a—" he fumbled.

"Of course not," she snapped. "Would you believe the empty words of a ghost?" She covered her embarrassment with anger.

Gellan's initial look of horror moderated into confusion. "Then what's wrong?" he asked. Bastila could still feel his emotions, frustration tangled with concern tangled with the aftermath of interrupted passion.

Bastila firmly disengaged herself from him, unspiraling their auras in the Force and getting to her feet. She felt her connection to his emotions fade, leaving her alone in her head with a confused tangle of her own. She brushed evergreen needles from her robes. "I like you very much, Gellan," she began.

Still seated on the ground, Gellan leaned back to look up at her. "I gathered that," he said.

She refused his invitation to smile. "I am a Jedi, and worse, I am a Jedi who has fallen to the Dark side." She clenched her hands at her sides. "I was redeemed, but it is an easy path back to the Dark. Unbridled emotion breaks our self-control, and self-control is what keeps us in the Light. I—I can't trust myself to be with you, Gellan."

Gellan got to his feet. "Let me help you," he said, brow creased with worry. "I've seen your—your presence, or whatever you call it, in the Force. You won't fall."

"You don't know that!" she said sharply. "You can't feel what I feel, all of the time, every day. There is a reason that the Council forbids Jedi to love." Even as she said the words, she wondered if they were true. Perhaps Atton's empty words weren't so empty.

"But what about Jedi Lanatal?" Gellan asked. "She obviously loves Admiral Onasi."

Bastila's resolve wavered before she yanked her reserve around her like a cloak to quash her doubts. "Being a Jedi is more than wielding a lightsaber and the Force. We have a Code. If we abandon it, then the Jedi are truly gone. You and I should not be together again."

Gellan frowned at her, an odd look of concentration on his face. "You don't mean that," he said flatly. "I can see it in you. That's not what you want, Bastila."

How had he seen her true feelings? Bastila held her hand out like a shield against him. "It doesn't matter, Gellan, I'm just—I'm sorry." She brushed past him and started toward the Hawk.

"Bastila," she heard behind her. "Wait—"

She Boosted herself into a run, knowing Gellan couldn't follow at her speed. She recited the Code in her head over and over, there is no emotion, there is no emotion, as the trees blurred by. The words were familiar, but this time, they gave her no comfort.

Carth frowned at the datatablet. The losses continued to be unacceptable. No matter which scenario he ran, no matter how he set up the confrontation, most of the civilians in the camp died in the attack on the city. Limae and Tykhol had trained their people surprisingly well with their limited resources, but a handful of lightly armed civilians just wasn't enough.

"You look frustrated, Father." Carth looked up to see Dustil coming out of the north woods, carrying a string of gutted silver fish from a tall branch. He was wet to the elbows and grinning.

"That's a nice catch," Carth observed. Dustil jammed the end of his pole into the ground and squatted down next to Carth.

"Yeah," he said, "you should see the stream just up that hill. It's so full of fish that you could almost just reach in and pull them out. After Bastila canceled her class this morning, I decided to give my trainees the day off, too, and a few of us went fishing. The camp will eat well tonight, that's for sure."

Carth frowned. "Why did Bastila cancel her class?" They were all racing to get everyone trained for the attack before Startol and Tepai decided to stop ignoring the camp and launch a preemptive strike. Even one missed class could mean the difference between success and failure with the thin margins they had.

Dustil shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Who knows why Bastila does anything? She's probably off meditating somewhere. Though I think everyone could use the break. We've been pushing them pretty hard, and it's no good for them to burn out before the attack." He stretched out his legs and leaned back against a tall tree. "This is a nice moon, if you exclude the crazy leaders and their kidnapped Force adepts. It kind of reminds me of the southern continent of Telos, remember, where we went camping that time?"

Carth remembered. Dustil had been eight, and Ana was preparing for the defense of her much-delayed dissertation. Carth's squadron had been on back-lines duty that four-month, so Carth had been able to time his leave to come home for the defense. One look at Ana's normally spotless office covered in reams of paper and piles of datapads and Carth knew he had to give her some space to prepare. He and Dustil loaded up the speeder and spent two weeks camping in the woods. It had been two of the best weeks of his life. "You caught that big triyan fish and I thought it was going to drown you before you got it back to shore," Carth said, smiling. "You got it, though."

Dustil shook his head and grinned. "I was determined to eat that fish, even though triyan tastes like mud. You showed me how to cook it, and I was so embarrassed when I finally ate it. It was terrible. But you were eating it, so I did too."

"I was only eating it because you were," Carth responded. "Too bad that kath hound came into camp while we were asleep and took the rest of it."

"What did you really do with it?" Dustil asked wryly.

"Oh, I threw it into the river as soon as you were asleep. I loved you, son, but I wasn't going to eat triyan for five days if I could avoid it."

They both laughed at the memory. A comfortable silence fell and Carth reluctantly went back to the datatablet. He tried running a scenario with air support from the Hawk, but that only resulted in a ten percent casualty decrease. The Hawk was made for space, not atmosphere, and she wasn't maneuverable enough to cover a small band of sentients against superior fire. Using the gun turrets risked too many civilian deaths inside the city.

Dustil glanced over at what Carth was doing. "Still trying to figure out a battle plan?" he asked.

Carth ran a hand through his hair. "Case is convinced I'm underestimating the amount the Force will contribute to our attack, but I've only found a couple of scenarios that work at all."

Dustil pointed out the Hawk. "What if you use the ship to create a distraction out of town, and then flank the attack in on the opposite side of the city?"

"That's one of the scenarios that works," Carth said approvingly. "We'll probably have you do that before you and Pellek leave the system. But all of these scenarios are thinner than I'd like. If something doesn't go as planned, which is always the case, they'll burn up." Carth looked at his son as Dustil scrolled through the attack scenarios. The serious concentration in his eyes was Ana's, but the determined set of his jaw was all Case. "You have a good head for this," Carth said. "You've had a good teacher in Case."

Dustil glanced up, amused. "I know Revan was supposed to have been some kind of tactical genius, Father, and Case is brilliant, but don't knock genetics. I used to win the Valenta twins' allowances over games of Strategem."

Carth was about to inquire further when a rustling of tree limbs caught his attention. Both he and Dustil were on their feet with their hands on their weapons when Gellan came out of the trees. The normally composed young man wore a look of extreme consternation, which he immediately covered when he saw the two Onasis. "Admiral, Master Jedi," he greeted them politely. "I didn't expect to see anyone on this side of camp."

"Just enjoying the afternoon," Dustil replied. "What's bothering you, Gellan? You're leaking frustration through the Force like a sieve. Where's Bastila?"

If Gellan was surprised at Dustil's ability to read him, he didn't betray it. "Jedi Shan went to the Hawk, I believe," he replied smoothly. "I've been trying to master the advanced form of Force Stasis. It's harder than it looks."

Carth could tell that Gellan was lying, that something had upset him, but Dustil grinned and didn't notice. "If you master it at all, you're doing better than me, let me tell you," Dustil said. "I've been trying to manage it for the last five years, and I've just about given up all together."

"Have you contacted your family, Gellan? I'm sure they'll be ecstatic to know you're alive." Carth asked, changing the subject. Case had told him that Gellan had been in the prison for close to two years.

He thought he saw a flicker of relief at the change of subject when Gellan answered. "No, I've set an automatic message to send when Jedi Onasi and Tran take the Hawk out of the system. I don't want to call attention to the camp's position by sending a long distance transmission." He smiled. "My sister will be more than happy to stop studying to be on the Trade Council and go back to her art."

"You know, you could go back with Dustil and Pellek," Carth said. "You could get a transport to Deralia from Citadel Station. I'm sure your family wouldn't want you risking your neck in this attack on the city."

Gellan stiffened just a millimeter. "I appreciate your concern, Admiral, but I am my own man. I have as much cause to destroy Tepai's prison as anyone here and more than most. I will not leave until the job is done."

Just then, the low hum of distant but approaching air vessels came from beyond the south end of the camp. Carth squinted through the tree canopy. The Hawk would be much louder, which meant they had to be Vintari airships. A horn sounded from the south sentry, then another from the east. That could only mean enemies were approaching.

Carth, Dustil and Gellan all started toward the center of the camp. Pellek ran to meet them. She was carrying her pack and had one lightsaber ignited. "The sentries spotted four air ships at five klicks out and at least fifteen speeders at ten," she reported. "Startol is transmitting a comm broadcast that if the camp gives up and returns to the city, no one will be harmed."

"That's a lie," Dustil said. "If they're not killed outright, everyone will go into the prison. We can't surrender."

Pellek smirked. "Obviously. Admiral, Royei invoked the emergency evacuation procedures. She wants you and Revan to hold the camp until the vulnerable population gets into hiding."

Carth nodded, mentally calculating available weaponry and the likely strength of the opposing force. "Right. You and Dustil need to get going. Case was doing something on the Hawk this afternoon, but she may already be on her way back. If you see her and Bastila, brief her on the situation and tell her to comm me when she's in position. Gellan, you're with me."

Dustil reached out and gripped Carth's arm before Carth could start toward the camp. "Force be with you, Father. We'll be back after we clean Telos of the Sith."

Carth tore his mind away from strategy and looked into Dustil's eyes. Ana's eyes. "Good luck, son. I'll see you in a few days." Dustil nodded and then he and Pellek took off at Force-assisted speed toward the Hawk. Carth cleared his throat and waved Gellan along with him into camp. They had a battle to fight.

Bastila entered the passcode and the Ebon Hawk's hatch creaked open. A quick glance behind told her that Gellan had not followed her from the forest. She walked into the familiar scent of titansteel and engine grease, hearing her boots clank hollowly under her feet. Automatically, she swept the ship with the Force and her heart sank to feel Case's sharp presence aboard. She had hoped to be alone.

"Bastila?" Case called from the main hold, cutting off any chance Bastila could leave without being seen. Case appeared at the end of the hallway, looking out of costume in borrowed Jedi robes. Her dark eyes, oddly contrasting with her light hair—like Gellan, Bastila thought unintentionally—looked concerned. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Bastila ran her hands quickly across her face, vainly trying to brush away the wetness of her tears. Her hair was out of its tails and stuck to her face damply. "Nothing," she said. "I was merely looking for my—my lightsaber tools."

Case frowned. "What happened? Where's Gellan?"

A perfectly calm, dismissive response came to mind, but to Bastila's horror, she burst into tears instead. "He—I—I told him we couldn't—" The more she tried to stop her tears, the faster they flowed. Had all of her self control dissolved so quickly?

Case's arm was around her shoulders and she led Bastila into the galley. She sat Bastila down at the small table and busied herself at the counter. Bastila stared numbly at the scratched tabletop and covered her flaming face with her hands, suddenly missing Jolee and his wry wisdom. She hated that it was Case who saw her like this.

Case pressed a cup of caffa into Bastila's hands and sat opposite her. She waited for Bastila to take a few sips of the hot liquid and for her sobs to settle into sniffles. Case leaned across the table, eyes hard. "Did he hurt you?" she asked quietly.

Bastila jerked her head up. "What?" she exclaimed. "No, no, of course not!" She realized what Case must have thought when she came to the Hawk disheveled and teary. "He would never hurt me."

Case sighed in relief. "Well, that's good news. Especially for him. Then what is it? It obviously involves him somehow."

What was it about Case that made Bastila pour out her heart to the woman? Even when they could barely stand the sight of each other on Tatooine, Case had gotten Bastila to talk about her mother. It was like Force Persuade without the Force. "Gellan and I were—well, we were intimate, and when I got—er, close, I felt—the Force—"

A slow smile spread across Case's lips. "Ah, love with a Force sensitive man. It's quite a different experience." Her smile turned into a grin. "I take it you never, er, experimented at the Academy."

Bastila kept herself from blushing and took what she hoped was a dignified sip of caffa. "No."

"Have you ever—" Case began.

"Of course I have!" Bastila snapped. "I am twenty-eight years old, not a youngling. Why does everyone assume I am—" she stopped herself with effort. Case was almost as much of a tease as Atton. "I could feel the Force right there in front of me, and there was so much power. It would have been so easy to fall. I—I was afraid. I stopped. I told Gellan we could not be together again." The tears were back, but this time she did not let them fall.

"Oh, Bastila," Case said softly. "You love him, don't you?"

Bastila hesitated, then nodded.

"Then you know that love doesn't lead to the Dark side," she said.

"How can you say that?" Bastila asked. "Don't you feel it, right there, waiting, tempting you every time you touch the Force? Everything was so easy until I fell, and now it's all I can do to block out the Dark. How do you ignore it?"

Case walked to the counter to pour herself another cup of caffa. She sat back down and sighed. "I don't." Before Bastila could protest, she continued, "I see the Dark in the Force, too, just like you do. Just like Dustil does. I think people who don't see it, people who have never touched the Dark, just don't realize it's there. It's all the same Force, Bastila. You can't separate the Dark from the Light."

Bastila could see Case's aura strongly, as she had always been able to do. It was the hazy slate of an August day on Dantooine. Case had never been strongly Light in orientation, but Bastila saw her choose the Light course again and again in their travels. On top of the Rakataan temple, Bastila had tried to tempt Case to the Dark, but she had known in her heart that she could never succeed. Case loved, as Jolee had loved, and her love kept her anchored in the Light.

Case reached across the table and cupped Bastila's hand in hers. "I don't claim to understand the Force. I don't know if it actually guides us, or if it keeps the galaxy balanced, or if it's just a natural event, like gravity. But I know that we can choose, and if you choose the Light, it doesn't matter if the Dark is outside your window. Choose love, Bas."

Bastila clenched Case's hand like a drowning sailor. "I'm afraid," she whispered.

"I know," Case said tenderly. Then she grinned, mischief glinting in her eyes. "But I know a certain Deralian farmer who would be happy to help you overcome your fears. And from the look of him, I think he could help you overcome those fears over and over again."

Bastila started to scowl but laughed instead. "I think I will keep that to myself. Thank you, Case. You are truly a good friend."

Case opened her mouth to reply, but they were both stopped by Dustil skidding into the galley, Pellek on his heels.

"Startol! He's attacking the Resistance Camp!" he exclaimed.

Case leapt to her feet. "How many men?" she asked.

"We left before we could get an accurate count," Pellek said. "But preliminary reports are of four light airships and at least fifteen speeders."

Bastila instinctively felt for her lightsaber. "We must go back to the camp immediately."

"No," Case and Dustil said simultaneously. Case tossed him a quick grin and then continued. "Dustil's right. He and Pellek have to get off the ground before they send in heavy air defense. They have to get to Telos before the Sith reaches the Force reserves there. That's still the immediate threat to the Galaxy. And we have to get to the city before the battle ends."

"Just us?" Bastila asked, then realized what Case meant. "You think the prison will be unguarded. We can release the Force adepts there."

"Exactly," Case said. "Carth's been troubled about our plan to attack the prison anyway, so this may be exactly the break we've needed. But we've got to go, now, before Startol realizes we're not in the camp."

"Father will hold the camp as long as he can, then fall back into the forest and hills until you come back with the Force adepts," Dustil said. "Now get going, both of you."

Case gave Dustil a quick hug and raised a hand to Pellek. "Force be with you both. We'll see you in a few days." She turned to Bastila. "Come on, let's get the speeder out of the hold."

A few minutes later, Bastila ducked away from the turbulence of the Hawk lifting off and pressed the speeder throttle down as hard as she could. In the jump seat, Case was sending a quick coded comm to Carth to let him know what they were doing. To the east, she could see smoke rising through the trees as the Resistance burned the camp behind their evacuation. She spared a thought for Gellan, who certainly had gone back to the camp after she left. He was a competent Force user and could handle himself. She hoped he would be fine.

Resolutely, Bastila turned her face away from the camp and toward the city. Everything had changed in just a few hours. Could the Force have led them to this moment? She shook her head and smiled a little, letting the battle adrenaline fill her up. She didn't know what the Force had in mind anymore. And maybe that was for the best, at least for now.