Jennet
To everyone else, Canderous certainly seemed more effusive than usual when expressing his pleasure in the Phoenix. However, not being privy to his thoughts, they could not guess the absolute delight and childlike wonder that was seething under the surface. I was quieter than usual while presenting the ship to him; that was largely due to listening to Canderous in my head. His astonishment and almost gushing comments were irresistible.
Later, when we had a rare moment of privacy, I suggested we move on board, at least until after the wedding. It would sleep us and the honor guard easily. Jarxel already had a private room in camp; one of the privileges of being XO. But our extra cabin could be offered to a guest, and our regular room could as well.
"In fact," I pointed out, "the cabin on the Phoenix is actually more comfortable, and has its own 'fresher. No more having to leave the room to get a shower. Maybe we should just move on board permanently until something better can be arranged for our quarters."
"Not a bad idea, Wildcat," Canderous said. "I could give Jarxel my old quarters; it's bigger than his anyway. That would leave Jarxel's room in the barracks open. Who should we offer it to? Jolee, Bastila, Mission, or Dustil?"
"Well, Bastila's bunking on the Ebon Hawk; Ladria offered to put her up, and they have plenty of room. Jolee too; he claims the gurney in the infirmary is good for his back. Let's offer the extra cabin on the Phoenix to Mission. If Dustil will be sharing it with her, she'll tell me; otherwise, he'll remain in the barracks. As for Jarxel's old room, I think we should keep it in reserve for Stefan. He commed me this morning to say he'll be here in a couple of days," I said as matter-of-fact as I could.
Canderous looked at me a moment, face impassive. "All right, Wildcat, that will work. He's about equal in rank as Carth, I suppose. It would be best to follow protocol."
"That's not it," I said quietly. "I just figured it would be less awkward to have Stefan as far away as possible from us on our wedding night."
He looked at me long enough that I wanted to squirm. Finally, he said very softly, "Cyar'ika, he's family to you, and he loves you. For that, he'll have my respect, hospitality, and whatever courtesy I can extend. Whatever you two had, it's over now. And it doesn't compare to us. Put him wherever is convenient and comfortable."
"You invited him," I reminded him. "I know you don't like him and likely never will. I don't fault you that; I doubt I'd be sweetness and light to any woman that you had had a meaningful relationship with."
"I did invite him," Canderous rumbled. "not necessarily for the most noble of reasons; I wanted him to know what he lost, and what I have. What we have. He hurt you, Jennet. I wanted him to pay. Now…I can say I honestly don't care about that anymore. I'll always care you were hurt, mind. But rubbing his face in it…that's petty, and small. I don't care to be small in my thinking anymore."
I eyed him silently, and he stared calmly back. I smiled.
"Practice that speech long?" I asked brightly.
"Nah, it was pretty much off the cuff."
"And at least eighty percent banthashit." I smirked.
"Now, that's just wrong, Wildcat. I'm a changed man; you said so." Canderous protested.
"All right then, I'll offer the extra cabin on the Phoenix to Stefan," I said sweetly.
Watching him struggle to keep up the pretense was almost as much fun as listening to him rave about his new ship. His face didn't change much but he clamped down hard mentally; a sure sign he's containing strong emotion. I let him battle himself a minute or two and finally let him off the hook.
"Don't worry, ti kar'ta," I soothed. "I was planning on having the Phoenix to ourselves on that night. Mission will probably volunteer to move out anyway, and I expect the honor guard will leave us be too, if we promise to seal off the ship once we're on board. And you don't have to hide that you don't like Stefan from me."
"I don't hate him," Canderous said in a low voice.
"I know."
"I'm willing to give him a chance. I know family is important to you."
"It is. But you're my family, and the Mandoa, and our friends. Stefan always will be, too, but he's not an idiot. He has a very good idea how you feel about him, and trust me, he doesn't blame you."
"I could give a fuck what he thinks of me," Canderous growled.
"You've made that abundantly clear," I said, smiling.
"You know, it's not easy to maintain irritation when you're being so damn reasonable," he groused.
"Is it? I'm sorry," I said insincerely.
"I'll play nice with Stefan," Canderous promised. "I was going to anyway for your sake."
"I know that, ti kar'ta," I said softly. "I appreciate it. I just don't want you to think you have to lie to me, that's all. Or feel like a hypocrite."
"I don't," he assured me. "Now."
I smiled. "That's good, then."
The next day we signed off on the treaty and Carth disappeared to his ship to transmit it to the Republic Senate, Captain Bard with him. I spent the day with the Elders, the Ebon Hawk crew, Jarxel, and most of the honor guard, strategizing the wedding ceremony. Elder Evana would be officiating, with Elders Gregor and Drane assisting. We borrowed whoever was handy to fill in for Canderous, Carth, Tagren, and Zuka, who were busy elsewhere. Canderous had asked Jolee and Dustil to stand with him, and both had delightedly accepted, making the male attendants Jarxel, Carth, Jolee, Dustil, Atton, Bao Dur, and Disciple. Mine were Ladria, Mira, Visas, Megari, Danni as flower girl, Lorna, Mission, whom I'd asked the day after she had arrived, and, after some thought, Bastila.
I didn't like her much, it was true, and she didn't seem to like me a whole lot either. But she did have respect for Canderous, enough to have made the trip. To be honest, I really didn't care if she ever liked me or not, and it didn't bother Canderous either. I was willing, however, to come to some sort of truce, and to give her a chance. So I took her aside after the treaty was signed.
"Master Bastila," I said formally, "I was wondering if you would do me the honor of being one of my attendants during the wedding."
She stared at me, clearly surprised, and was silent long enough I was starting to regret the offer. Finally, she spoke.
"Why?"
"Well," I said, dropping my formal tone, "it's like this. We got off on the wrong foot, and I'd like to start over."
"You don't have to ask me to be in your wedding for that," Bastila said coolly.
"No. But I am," I said sincerely. "You were with Revan, too. I'd like to hear about that, from someone besides Canderous. This wedding is a new beginning, on a lot of levels, but very personally for him. He's made peace with a lot of things in his past. It's right you should be a part of it. He has a lot of respect for you, you know."
"He doesn't like me any more now than he did then," Bastila said, matter-of-fact.
I looked at her consideringly. "That's where you're wrong. He did like you, as well as he could at the time. He hasn't said so, and won't, but he's pleased you came."
"I wouldn't call it 'like'," she said, "for either of us. Respect, perhaps."
"Well, it's a start. I won't say you and I won't clash again," I smiled winningly. "But respect, you have. And I really would like it if you would be in our wedding."
"I..." Bastila seemed to be struggling. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I accept. It's…kind of you to ask."
"Thank you," I said as warmly as I could manage. "I'm glad."
"You remind me of Revan," Bastila said suddenly. "She was…well, as impulsive as you, and a warrior. But kind."
"You miss her," I said softly.
"Yes. She was…is…a friend." She paused. "I have few enough friends," she said briskly. "I haven't the knack to attract people like she does. But you do. I…envy that, I think."
Telling her that the prickly and formal attitude she presents didn't help would be counterproductive, I supposed. I tried to swallow it; I really did. But my mouth just gets me in trouble.
"Maybe if you relaxed and smiled, people would want to talk to you more," I said, and clapped my hand over my mouth. "I'm sorry," I said immediately. "That was rude, and I really do want to get along."
To my utter shock, she started to laugh. "I can see why Canderous loves you," she said, amusement changing her whole face. "He said something similar to me once. I thought it was one of the most ironic moments of that mission; a Mandalorian teaching a Jedi how to relate to others. I was furious at the time, but he had a point."
"I shouldn't have said that," I apologized.
She waved me off. "I'd rather have you be honest. I'm well aware of my shortcomings. Perhaps if more people were like you, I'd feel freer to speak my own mind."
"You don't seem to have much difficulty there," I said dryly, thinking of the near disaster at the treaty table.
"No," she said dismissively, "I have no problems voicing my opinions when it comes to a mission. It's just…well, it doesn't matter."
"No, I think it does," I said with interest. "What were you going to say?"
She was quiet for a while, as if assessing whether I really wanted to know. Apparently coming to the conclusion I did, she said slowly, "I've isolated myself, trying not to give in to…passion. The Jedi didn't allow close personal ties because emotion confuses issues. I found out first hand that it can, and does," her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "But Revan…she is passionate, and I think Ladria is too. You most definitely are; it's all over your aura. But none of you are dark, at least not anymore, and you never were."
"How are you so sure?" I asked curiously.
"Reading auras is something I'm particularly good at," she said without a trace of a boast. "You lack the distinctive marks of someone that has gone over and been redeemed. Ladria never quite fell; but it's in her aura how close she came. Visas, Canderous, and Atton all have the signs, but they're so faint now it's nearly a shadow."
"Interesting," I said sincerely. "Is that something you can teach?"
"Possibly; I've never tried. I find it both useful and uncomfortable. I don't care for others to know too much about me so quickly; I try not to put anyone in the same position, and don't particularly enjoy inside knowledge, so to speak," she shrugged.
"That explains a lot of your isolation," I said thoughtfully. "Constantly being on guard about what you see."
"Yes," she said. "And I seem to upset people regularly. Revan used to scold me about being negative. I don't understand why; truth shouldn't be insulting."
"People don't like complete honesty," I explained gently. "They like to think the best of themselves, and others."
"I suppose that's true," she said quietly. "It's not the first time someone has pointed that out. I do try," she said wistfully. "I just don't have…empathy, I think."
"You have the gift of battle meditation," I argued. "That requires empathy. So does reading auras. You've just cut yourself off from it."
She looked at me thoughtfully. "I have no idea why I've told you all this," she said finally. "I don't even know if I like you, and you don't seem to like me."
"People tell me things," I shrugged. "And maybe I do like you, a little. Now."
"Perhaps I do too. A little," she agreed. "Now."
"Friendships have started in worse ways," I grinned, and she smiled back.
Rehearsal took hours, and about midway through the missing wedding party members showed up. It was decided that everyone but Megari and Danni would be in battle gear for the ceremony itself, and could change into semi-formal clothing afterwards, if they wished. The reception wasn't so much a formal greeting of guests as a prolonged party, which was great with me. Finally, the Elders had everything arranged to their satisfaction, and dismissed us. I looped my arm through Canderous' and headed toward the mess hall, Lorna trotting ahead. She had been particularly pleased about being part of the wedding party. I liked her a great deal; she was obviously fond of Canderous and protective of 'her boys' as she put it. She had only been on Dxun a month, but knew everyone and everything about them, it seemed.
"What did you say to Bastila?" Canderous asked me curiously, breaking in to my thoughts.
"Huh?" I blinked at him.
"She was almost human today," he explained. "I think I even saw her smile."
I shrugged. "I asked her to be in the wedding because I wanted to be on better terms with her. It's never a great idea to be constantly clashing with someone you'll be fighting with." Canderous nodded in agreement. "We got to talking, and found out we could get along, that's all. She's nice enough when you get to know her. And…I think she's lonely. She's quite aware of rubbing half the people she deals with the wrong way. I kind of feel sorry for her."
"Don't let her know that," Canderous rumbled. "She'll slice you off at the knees for it."
"Probably," I agreed.
"Want to go for a walk, Wildcat? When was the last time you were outside the camp?"
"I don't remember," I said. "Probably when we went to Onderon. A walk sounds great."
"Let's have lunch, and walk it off, then."
"Sure," I said, pleased.
Lunch was leisurely, and most of the wedding party had eaten and gone by the time we finished. Soon we were heading out the main gates, Dax, Kex, and Xarga accompanying us. I followed Canderous, not caring where we were headed, just glad to be relatively alone with him and out of the camp. We were alert for cannoks and other predators, but encountered none. It was hot, and I wasn't in armor, but did have a shield strapped to my wrist, as did everyone else. Jungle humidity is murder, and I could feel my hair forming damp ringlets around my face. I'd been growing it out; my healing ability makes it do that faster than most people, and it was now a couple of inches above my shoulders. I cursed under my breath that I hadn't brought something to tie it back with.
"Here, Wildcat," Canderous stopped me with a hand to my arm, a leather bootlace in his other hand. Without comment, he gathered up the thick mass of my hair and tied it firmly. "Better?"
"Much," I said, feeling a slight breeze on the back of my neck.
We wandered a bit, and I gradually became aware that we were heading somewhere specific. Canderous was trying to be casual about it, but there was something buzzing under his surface thoughts. I cocked an eyebrow at him, and he looked blandly back.
"Where are we going?" I asked curiously.
"You'll see," he said cryptically. "We're almost there."
A few minutes later, we were suddenly in a huge clearing, bordered by high rocky cliffs and a gorgeous pond. A waterfall was at the far end of it, throwing out heavy sprays of mist which caught the light and made rainbows shine everywhere. And over on what, oddly, appeared to be a huge concrete pad was what appeared to be half the camp. A cheer went up at our appearance, and I looked at Canderous, mystified.
"What's going on?" I asked suspiciously.
"It's your wedding gift, Wildcat," Canderous said smugly.
"You made me a landing pad?" I said stupidly. "Well, it's handy now that we have the Phoenix."
He laughed. "No, cyar'ika, the landing pad is over there," he waved behind the crowd. "Take a closer look."
I walked over to where everyone was milling around, and paced off the slab. People moved aside as I did, and some followed. Finally, I stood in the middle and faced the pond. I saw that the beginnings of what looked like a dock were in place off the bank. Why would we need a boat dock near a hanger? And then it hit me. I spun around, calculating the area of the slab, and turned to stare at Canderous.
"You're building me a house?" I said wonderingly.
"Got it in one," he said, smiling broadly.
"A real house? With walls I can hang things on? And furniture that isn't bolted to the floor?" I was babbling, I knew, but I couldn't stop. "A whole house, for me?"
"Well, cyar'ika, I expect I'll live there too," Canderous said gravely. "If that's all right with you."
"That's fine," I assured him, and burst into tears.
I dimly heard a ripple of laughter run through the crowd as Canderous strode over and picked me up. I hid my face in his shirt, wrapped my arms and legs around him and cried harder. I could hear his laughter rumbling deep in his chest as he held me.
You love it, yes?
Yes yes yes yes yes, was all I could manage.
Eventually I got a hold of myself and I groped for something to clean my face with. Disciple, ever the gentleman, handed me a handkerchief. He's the only guy I know that actually carries one. I gave him a watery smile in thanks and mopped away my tears.
"Thank you, ti kar'ta," I said as Canderous set me down. "It's almost as perfect as my necklace," I joked feebly, touching it in reflex. I rarely take it off.
"You could have told me that sooner, Wildcat," Canderous said in mock exasperation. "I could have saved a hell of a lot in credits."
"Can we afford this?" I asked, suddenly worried.
I used to live pretty cheaply, but then, it was only me. Aside from ship maintenance, dock fees, and food, I never spent much except on weapons. I like to read, and would splurge on electronic books too, but most often I'd trade them in for new ones at the next port. I love real books with pages and covers, but they're bulky and not as easy to slip into a knapsack. I've never really had to budget or keep track of credits; bounty hunting usually made enough to cover until the next job, and I never lost in the fight ring. I hadn't touched my cache in the lockbox on Onderon until I bought the Phoenix. Canderous had made a casual comment that he was moderately wealthy just before we got to Dxun, but I had no idea what that meant exactly.
"No worries there," Canderous assured me. "With the Republic helping us build, I can afford it easily. Furniture too. Not bolted down," he promised. "And things to hang on the walls."
"And an armory," I added, eyes shining.
"Of course," he said. "I love a woman who's got her priorities straight."
I kissed him then, and a cheer went up around us.