NINETEEN

Bastila was lost.

On some level, she knew that she was alive, probably somewhere on Vintar, hopefully not in enemy hands, but it was as though a heavy fog hung between herself and that world. Try as she might, she couldn't reach it. She drifted on a slippery film of memory, both hers and Tepai's, finding herself one moment in the shadow of a tortor tree on Dantooine, and the next overlooking a farm on Vintar. She couldn't seem to control the memories, couldn't seem to find herself among them.

She didn't know why Tepai had given her the memories, but she felt strongly that there was something she needed to do, something the Force wanted her to do. But she couldn't find her way in the fog of memories, and she wasn't certain she would recognize the thing to be done even if she came upon it. The Force had demanded so much from her already—she was afraid of what it would ask of her now.

Presently she was in the evergreen forests on Vintar near the Resistance camp. The air was cooler than she remembered it being, and the smell of snow was in the air. "Bastila," she heard as though from a long distance. She turned and saw Gellan striding toward her.

She smiled and held her hand toward him, then remembered their last conversation in these woods, heard the rejection in her own voice. She could not touch him without touching the Force, and then it would have her at its mercy. Bastila backed away into the shadows of the woods, trying not to see the confusion and sadness on Gellan's face. If she stayed here, in these woods, she would be safe.

The Force could not find her here.

"All right, that should be everything," Carth said. He pushed back from the comm console and rubbed his eyes wearily. He had spent most of the three days since the attack staring at the screen, sending reports to the Republic, fielding irritated questions from the Admiralty, and helping Limae convene the darjuki to deal with the fallout from the attack. The work was tedious and exhausting, but here was satisfaction in helping the people of Vintar resume control over their lives and government.

Limae stood and moved away from the comm console. "My thanks for help, Admiral," she said in her now-familiar broken Basic cadence. Limae's headfur was an empty dull gray.

"Limae," Carth began. She had rebuffed his every attempt to speak about Tykhol.

She held her hand up quickly. "Now not time, Admiral. My mate with gods. Now time for work." She stood and made as if to go, then turned back to him. "My thanks for your honor to him," she said, then left the room before Carth could respond.

Carth looked after her for a long moment, then forced himself to his feet and back into the complex. He knew that work could only bury grief for a limited time, but he understood Limae's insistence on it. He was glad that she would have Follani to turn to later, when the grief roared back in.

If there was any good news on this interminable day, it was that he had heard finally from Dustil. He and Pellek were in the system and would arrive at the city within a few hours. Carth knew that something unusual had happened on Telos, but Dustil wouldn't explain, saying only that he and Pellek were fine and he would explain when they arrived.

He saw Case across the hallway and she waved him over. He could tell from the set of her shoulders that she was worried. "What's wrong?" he asked as he approached. "Is it Bastila?" In the three days since the attack, Bastila had remained unresponsive and agitated. Case and Gellan had attended to her almost continuously, but no amount of coaxing or searching in the Force seemed to help.

Case leaned against him for just a moment before straightening and crossing her arms over her chest. "Royei is in with her now," she replied. "I don't think—"

Royei emerged from the room with Gellan right behind her. The old Vintari's headfur was the greenish gray of sickness, Carth realized with some alarm. Case immediately placed a glowing hand on the elder Vintari's shoulder and held it there until Royei straightened. "Thank you, Case Lanatal," Royei said. "I did not realize how drained I had become."

"How is she?" Case asked quietly.

Royei sighed. "As we thought, Bastila Shan is deep inside of herself. Tepai's dying act was to transfer the essence of herself, her memories, into Jedi Shan. I have heard of this being possible, but I have never seen it done. Bastila will have to resolve the contradictions between herself and Tepai before she can return to herself."

Something about the flat way the Vintari spoke chilled Carth. "Can she?" he asked.

"I do not know," Royei replied. "Your Jedi would say perhaps that there is something the Force wants her to do, something that affects not only herself but possibly the Force. I am not sure she will be able to do it, both because the task is hard and because of who she is."

Case nodded as though she understood, but Carth shook his head in frustration. "Speak plainly, Elder. What do you mean? How long before Bastila recovers?"

Silence, then very quietly, "I do not know if she will."

Carth glanced sharply at Case and saw confirmation of Royei's words in her worried eyes. Gellan, who had stood by silently through Royei's explanation, turned wordlessly and went back into Bastila's room. He sat in the low chair beside the bed platform and took Bastila's unresisting hand in his own.

"We can't just give up on her!" Carth exclaimed. "We'll take her back to the Republic, find a medic there, or, or—maybe the Exile could help you—" he trailed off. Carth sighed, looking over Case's shoulder at Gellan's still form. "Can he help her?" he asked finally.

Case leaned against him again, this time giving comfort instead of seeking it. "Bastila has to come back on her own, but he can be here for her if she arrives. I hope that will be enough."

Bastila found that she could walk easily through the dense woods of Tepai's memory, that the Vintari knew these trees like she knew her own family. She emerged from the trees into a broad clearing with a small stone building at the far end. It was the home she shared with Startol when his duties did not keep him in the city, and Tepai knew the home as a place of love. Bastila blinked and found herself abruptly inside. Royei handed her a swaddled infant. Startol leaned over her shoulder to see the child, love and pride bursting from him. This was one of Tepai's memories, of course, but to Bastila it seemed no different than her own. She was here, not Tepai.

"What shall we name her?" Startol asked.

"Halla," she heard herself say. The child opened bright blue eyes and seemed to smile. Bastila could feel the Force flowing from the infant, strong and pure, untouched by alignment. The love she felt for the tiny Vintari was nearly overwhelming. "She is our people's future, Startol," she said in Vintari.

Caught up in the heady glow of love surrounding her, Bastila didn't realize immediately that the smell in the air had changed from clean snow to a smoky sourness. Her hands were suddenly empty. "Halla," she whispered, glancing around herself, terrified that her baby was gone, before recognizing the city of Vintar around her.

Another blink, and Bastila heard herself screaming as she raced to a fallen body. It was Halla, she knew, even though the child was now many years an adult. It was after the Children's Massacre, and Startol had been forced to kill his own daughter, their daughter. The blood from Startol's blade stained Halla's robes as Bastila tried to stop the flow with her hands. She knew it was hopeless, that her baby was already dead, but she couldn't stop her hands any more than she could stop the tears that poured down her face. Startol's arms encircled her and she felt his sobs join hers. "She was not herself," Startol whispered. "Halla was already gone."

There was a hole inside Bastila where Tepai's—where her—love for Halla lived. That hole seemed to stretch endlessly away from her in two directions, toward a place of sadness, and a place of power. Bastila knew that in the past, Tepai had reached for the power, desperate to do something that would stop the pain. She had thrown Startol's arm from hers and walked to the holocron they had found in the caves beyond the city. She had taken the power offered by the holocron, her daughter's blood still on her hands, and used it to defeat the invaders who had enslaved her people. Tepai had rejected the Force, which only offered the promise of more pain.

Bastila could feel the Force hovering around her, demanding that she make a decision. "What do you want?" she cried to the smoky sky. "What am I supposed to do?"

Only her own voice echoed back to her.

It was late evening when Dustil arrived at the Vintari city with Pellek. He couldn't see the soot that coated the courtyard, but the smell reached him ten meters away. His boots crunched on ashes as he made his weary way inside.

"Pellek, I'm going to check in with Case before I hit the rack. Hopefully she can do something about this miserable arm of mine."

Pellek made no response, and when Dustil turned to follow up, he saw that she was already gone. He shook his head—the woman was as much a mystery to him now as she had been when he first met her on Dxun. He felt for Case in the Force and found her awake and alone in an empty office.

Case smiled tiredly when he walked through the door. She was propped up on a low bench with her head back against the wall. She held a hand out to him. "I thought I felt you come in. Your father will be glad to see you back here safely."

"Where is Father?" Dustil asked, squeezing her hand briefly and settling onto a bench across from her. "I thought he would be with you."

Case stifled a yawn and gestured toward a soundproof comm console where Dustil could see the silhouette of his father's form. "It's 0800 Standard on Coruscant, and the Senate Subcommittee of Something-or-other wanted another explanation of the battle here. Fortunately, the local government on Vintar has nothing but good to say about our efforts, but the senators have to hear that ten times before they'll believe it." She shook her head. "They're almost as bad as the Jedi Council."

"Well, the Sith did have that going for them. No bureaucracy."

Case snorted, then looked narrowly at him. "Why didn't you tell me you were injured right away? Let me see that arm." Dustil extended it obediently. "What did you do to it?" she asked.

"Let's just say I tripped about twenty meters at high speed. It's just cracked, and the kolto will fix it in another day or two, but if you're handing out the Force Heal, I'll take some."

Case held her glowing hand over his arm and Dustil saw that her fingers were still as damaged as when he had first seen them. The dull pain across the long bone in his arm eased as the fibers knitted back together. "I know you're useless at Force Heal," she said irritably, "but why didn't Pellek heal you? Carth said she came back with you."

Dustil flexed his arm a few times, testing the easy movement. "She doesn't have the Force anymore, Case."

"What? How?"

Dustil shook his head. "I don't understand it myself, but something happened on Telos after she defeated the Sith—and it was she who did it, not me, let me make that clear—and she lost the Force, or gave it up. She says she never really had it after Malachor."

Case pursed her lips. "I need to talk to her. That is, if she'll see me."

"She might be more willing than you think. We didn't talk much on the trip back here, but I got the sense that she was thinking, not angry."

"Hmm," Case said. "Perhaps. But enough about that for now—tell me how things went on Telos."

Dustil filled her in on the events in the polar region. "The good news is that the silo on Telos is destroyed, and without Tepai collecting Force powers to send to the holocrons, I think we really did some damage to these True Sith. But we know there are others."

Case nodded. "The Unknown Regions is a big place," she said, looking at Dustil meaningfully. "You have to be good with a blade out there, and I can't hold one anymore."

Dustil realized what she meant. "You're not going back out, are you?"

She stretched out her ruined hands. "Royei can't do anything with them, and with the Jedi Masters gone, I don't think there's anyone who can. Hunting Sith is for the young, and that's not me, not anymore." Dustil could feel the sharp longing and pain through their Bond in spite of her wistful smile.

Dustil glanced sharply at his father's shadow in the comm room and then back at Case. It was apparent they had already discussed this, and Dustil was surprised at his irritation from the exclusion—after spending the last five years with Case, he wasn't used to hearing things secondhand. "But what are you going to do? Join the Officers' Wives Club? Take up knitting?" He couldn't quite keep the scorn out of his voice.

She ignored his tone. "I hear that a couple of Pellek's Lost Jedi are trying to remake the Order, begin a new Jedi Academy. There are Force Adepts here, not just Vintari but from all species, who could benefit from training—"

"They're too old," Dustil objected.

"So were you, if you recall, and you haven't turned out too badly. The way the Order has been doing things has to change, or we won't survive. I'm going to be a part of that change, whether they like it or not." Case grinned hard, and Dustil suddenly felt sorry for Pellek's new Jedi. They had no idea what kind of a windstorm was heading their way.

Case took Dustil's hand, and her love for his father echoed so strongly that Dustil knew she had to be projecting it at him through their Bond. It was her way of telling him that her decision was final. She was nothing if not practical, and even though he could still feel her longing for a place on the front lines, she knew she couldn't survive there. She had decided on a new path, one with Carth and the Jedi, and any might-have-beens were irrelevant. If he went back to the battle, he would be doing it on his own.

Well, Dus, you had to grow up someday, he said to himself. "The Unknown Regions won't be the same without you, Jedi Lanatal," he said with a smile. He knew she could feel his understanding through their Bond.

They stood at the same time. Case embraced him, then pushed him away. "I didn't expect to have a padawan, Dustil. I couldn't have asked for a better one. Good hunting, Jedi Onasi."

Bastila stared helplessly down at Halla's broken body, still trapped in Tepai's terrible memory of her daughter's death. This was where the past hinged for Tepai, where the choice she made determined her future and the future of her people. Bastila knew that this was just a memory, just something that Tepai had forced into her before she died. But it was important, somehow, and Bastila knew she had to do something, that she was being asked to make a choice. But she didn't know what to do.

Faintly, a memory within a memory, Bastila saw Case's ruined hands holding her own on the Ebon Hawk. She heard Case's words, desperate yet hopeful. Choose love, Bas, she had said.

Before Bastila could do anything, the memory shifted again, and Bastila found herself again in the evergreen forest under Gellan's warm body. She could feel him strongly as their auras intertwined through the Force. She watched herself stop him before their lovemaking could climax, felt her hands brush away evergreen needles as though she could do the same to her own feelings. She heard her words, rejecting a future with him.

"You don't mean that," Gellan said flatly. "I can see it in you. That's not what you want, Bastila."

Bastila caught her breath. Her own choice, her own hinge for the future. Could she choose the Force and allow herself to love Gellan, even with the temptation of Darkness at her window? Or would she turn away, as Tepai had done? What would have happened if Tepai had chosen differently, had chosen love instead of the emptiness?

Choose love, Bas—

She was again on Vintar cradling Halla's lifeless form, Startol grieving, angry, and terrified behind her. Her own anger, at Halla, at Startol, but most of all at the Force which had killed her baby, was overwhelming. Turning away, as Tepai had, would ease that pain, stop the grief, soothe her like the Force would not. Bastila knew now that the Force wanted her to reject Tepai's decision, to turn to the Force instead of away from it. But that decision would bring so much pain, so much grief. Bastila wanted more than anything to run away, reject the Force as Tepai had, and stop the pain and temptation toward Darkness.

"I don't want this!" Bastila cried. "Why do you ask it of me?" The Force had already taken so much from her—her parents, her childhood, her self-assurance in her powers and the power of the Light. How could it ask more of her now? What would it possibly give her in return?

Choose love—

Case's words echoed in Bastila's mind. Case had wrestled with the Force many times, but only seemed to reach peace after she found Carth. Was that really enough? Case said she stared at the Dark every day but chose to follow the Light. Bastila had to choose, for herself and for Tepai, whether she would turn away from the Force or embrace it. She couldn't change the past, but she could redeem Tepai's memory. This was the change the Force was asking her to make.

"All right," Bastila whispered. "All right."

Bastila turned to Startol and buried her face in his chest, surrendering herself to the grief that the Jedi claimed would lead only to Darkness, and allowed his love to wash over her as they sobbed for the loss of their baby. Startol's love was stronger than the Dark.

Again in the forest, Bastila looked at Gellan, at the hope and worry in his eyes. Love could lead to Darkness, as the Jedi masters taught, but it could also lead to the Light. She had seen that over and over again. "Gellan, I—"

The fog thinned before she could finish her words, drawing her away from the forest, from Gellan. She felt her chance to make a change slipping away. "No, wait!" she cried. "Gellan, don't leave—"

Hands clasped hers tightly. "I'm here, Bastila, I'm here."

She blinked and saw Gellan's dark eyes looking down at her. It was his hands around hers. Harsh light bled in around him as he bent over her prone form, and Bastila could hear voices beyond him. Was she herself again, or was this merely another memory? Was her chance to make a decision already gone? "Gellan," she tried to say, but it was merely a whisper. "Are you real?"

Gellan's relief washed over her. "You're the expert on philosophy, Master Jedi," he whispered back. "But I think we're both real." He smiled down at her. "I thought you were lost."

The whisper of Case's words reached her. Choose--

She couldn't change the past, but she would choose the future. She owed that much to Tepai, to the Force, to herself. "I was," she said. "But love brought me back." She laughed at Gellan's surprise and pulled him down into a kiss.

"Why did you do it?"

Pellek glanced over her shoulder to see Revan leaning in the doorway to the aft quarters. That was the problem with not having the Force—people could sneak up on you if you weren't paying attention. "The Masters were right," Pellek replied, and went back to stowing loose items for liftoff. She didn't need the Force to know that Revan's eyebrows were skeptically raised. "After Malachor—what I did to the Force was corrosive, dangerous."

"It wasn't—" Revan began.

Pellek turned around finally and sat on the edge of her bunk. "—my fault," she finished. "I know. I didn't know that all those Force connections suddenly snapped would make a hole in the Force. I didn't know that my exile without the Force was the Force's way of protecting itself. I didn't know that when I thought I'd regained the Force, I was really just siphoning it from my friends. But ignorance can't be an excuse, Revan. We thought we were acting for the greater good, rushing in to save the Republic, but we created a greater evil even so."

Revan opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. "Then how do we decide what to do?" she asked finally. Pellek's first thought was that Revan was mocking her, but she saw the seriousness in the woman's eyes. It was the first sign of true respect that Pellek had seen from her in a long time.

Pellek shrugged and smiled. "I guess we just muddle through as usual and try to fix our mistakes. We can't all be saviors of the galaxy, you know."

"You're going with Dustil, then?" Revan asked. Pellek knew this was the real reason for the woman's visit.

Pellek nodded. "At least for a while. We have to try to wipe out these new Sith before they become too powerful—they were weakened when we destroyed the silo on Telos, but there are others. I don't know if I can be of much help in the battle without the Force, but I'm connected to them somehow, through Malachor, through Kreia, and I have to try to stop them. We have to bring some balance back to the Force."

Revan looked at her oddly, then smiled. "You sound like a Jedi Master making prophesy. You didn't see the Force ripple when you said that, Pel, but it did. I don't think the Force is done with you yet."

"Now who sounds like a Master?"

Revan laughed, and Pellek was reminded of better days. "See if you can find Dustil a nice girl to settle down with while you're out there, will you?" Revan asked.

"Only if I don't find her first," Pellek retorted. She smiled. "We'll keep each other safe, Case," emphasizing her name.

The former Dark Lord smiled. "I know you will. Force be with you, Pellek Tran." She turned without another word and left the cabin.

Dustil stuck his head around the corner into the quarters—Pellek suspected that he had been waiting for Case to finish before coming in. "Are you done in here?" he asked. "I'd like to get out of here before the Republic diplomats show up and turn this place into a circus. I don't envy my father or Case one bit, having to deal with that mess."

Pellek pulled her thoughts back from the conversation with Case. "Yeah, everything's stowed," she said, following Dustil back up to the cockpit. She settled into the co-pilot seat and strapped in. Dustil had already run most of the pre-flight checks.

Out of the viewscreen, she could see an assembly of people gathered to watch their liftoff. Limae was there, holding a furiously waving Follani in her arms. A little behind her was Bastila, still looking a frail but with Gellan's arm securely around her waist. Pellek thought Atton would have been glad to see Bastila looking so happy. Forming up the rear was Carth, who reached out a hand to Case, who approached from the Hawk. She said something to him and Pellek thought she could make out regret on the Admiral's face before draping an arm over Case's shoulder and turning back to the ship.

"Did you talk to the Admiral?" Pellek asked Dustil. "I thought he'd try to stop you from going back out there, especially with a derelict Jedi like me."

Dustil kept his eyes on the viewscreen. "He wanted me to stay, but we both know that there's not really a place for me in the Republic right now. Maybe someday I'll have to give this up and join Case's new Jedi Academy, but I have a lot of hunting to do first." He paused, then shook his head. "I'm just glad Case is staying with him. They both deserve some happiness. Though I wonder if Case realized her 'important Jedi destiny' was going to terminate in teaching a bunch of baby Jedi Force tricks."

Pellek chuckled. "How do you know it wasn't you?"

"What?"

Pellek raised her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying that maybe her destiny was to train you for the fight against the True Sith. I told you that you're stronger in the Force than she is."

Dustil looked genuinely surprised, then grinned. "Am I going to have to put up with all this wisdom from you the whole time we're hunting? You're worse than an oldtimer these days—next thing I know, you'll be telling me you've given up Corellian whiskey."

"Ha. Tell you what, I'll quit making wise pronouncements as soon as you learn your lazy ass some decent Force Heal. Especially if you keep insisting on breaking bones and getting into scrapes."

"It's a deal," Dustil said. He finished the final checks. "Ready to start this trip?" he asked.

Pellek looked once more at the group of people below them, then pulled the smooth white stone from her pocket. Mira would be waiting for her someday, but that day was not to be today. She tucked the stone away, feeling another tiny piece of her soul reassembling itself. "Just another four million to go," she whispered to herself. Atton would have known what she meant.

Pellek nodded slowly and smiled. "I'm ready."

END