"Padawan Shan, allow us to introduce the Republic's newest soldier. Envar Tasadii."
Bastila looked first at Master Zhar, understanding not quite setting in, then at the other masters, then at Revan's unconscious form lying between them. "I... I do not understand, masters."
With a weary sigh, Master Dorak levered himself to his feet. "Revan's mind and memories were unsalvageable. The best we could do was to give her a fresh start. Perhaps, with time, her memories will begin to surface and we can uncover the truth." Turning to the other masters, the aged chronicler bowed apologetically. "This day has taken much out of me. I will retire to my chambers."
Master Zhar nodded to Dorak and then turned to the remaining two Masters. "I will appraise Padawan Shan of the situation. You may rest if you desire."
Zandar and Vrook accepted the dismissal gracefully, though the latter could not resist advising Bastila on one thing. "Do not trust her."
Bastila knew from experience that Vrook was the most negative of the council on Dantooine, but even so, the warning spoke to all of her uncertainties about the situation. As the other masters were leaving, she asked carefully, "Is this the other option you spoke of?"
Zhar was now standing as well and gestured for Bastila to follow him. They left the chamber and Zhar closed and Force-sealed the doors with a resounding thud. Somehow, the action seemed to symbolize the finality of what had gone on within. Even as a young and inexperienced Padawan, Bastila knew there was no going back from what had just occurred.
He led her toward a secluded part of the enclave, where their discussion would not be overheard.
"She has been cut off from the Force. As to her personality, you will likely find it remarkably similar to that which you remember. We do not yet know if her skills will manifest or not. It is hard to say at this point." He paused, allowing her the time to digest the information, before moving on. "The Republic has all but demanded your return to the fleet. They would not be so rude as to actually make that demand, of course. We have told them that you are recovering from your battle."
A nonexistant battle, really. Her only real wound- a dislocated shoulder- had been easy enough to take care of at the time and, with the more recent application of Force healing, the joint felt as good as new. As for emotional wounds, four of her colleagues had died that day, but she knew that they were not truly gone; they had joined the Force, just as she one day would. Besides which, her daily meditations were meant to rid her of such unnecessary emotions, as they had. She was, of course, entirely at peace.
Seeming to follow her thought process, Master Zhar spoke lightly, "If, at any time, you wish to discuss the events which took place, I would be content to listen."
"Thank you, Master Zhar, but I do not think that will be necessary."
Accepting that answer, the Twi'lek returned to the matter at hand. "The Endar Spire will be docking in a matter of days. They will escort you back to the main fleet. We have already requested that Envar be under your direct command."
"I do not mean to question your judgement, Master, but why me? I cannot keep watch over... over her and perform my Battle Meditation at the same time."
"I understand your concerns, Bastila, but this is a matter of necessity. Only a select few know the truth of what happened: the Council on Coruscant, of course, myself, Master Vrook, Master Dorak, Master Vandar... and you. We cannot keep her here. There are still those who would recognize her for who she really is. The same is true of Coruscant, where you may remember she studied before coming to join our enclave."
After a momentary pause, the master looked at Bastila appraisingly. "And there is the matter that you saved her life. You showed compassion where few others would, Bastila Shan, and it becomes you. You understand both the dangers and the potential rewards. You have a perspective on the situation which is likely more judicious than my own. In light of these recent events, I have faith that you will handle this unusual situation with wisdom and care."
That night, Bastila dreamed. The vagueness of the dream state contrasted harshly with the sharp and strangely vivid memory that had been long since forgotten. Bastila had been six...
Bastila was six and she hated her mother. Even galaxies apart, she couldn't bring herself to do anything but hate her mother. She hated her mother so much, in fact, that the last parting words she'd screamed in the woman's face were, "I hate you! I never want to see you again!"
So far, she had gotten her wish. This childish dream-come-true was only spoiled by one thing; she hadn't seen her father in all that time either. Somehow she came to the conclusion that this state of affairs was her mother's fault. Her mother was keeping her father away! And that only made her hate the woman more.
She had spent a miserable week, so far, at the Jedi Academy, being lectured at by boring old people and being talked down to by her fellow children. She didn't care. Soon, she thought, her father would realize that this was wrong and he'd come to take her back. Even in her childish fantasies, Bastila knew that going back to live with her father also meant going back to live with her mother. But she could deal with that. She loved her father more than she hated her mother.
She had taken to sitting near the landing bay, having noticed that ships would occasionally come. If her daddy came for her, she wanted to be right there to see him so he could hug her and swing her around and call her "Basti" like he always had. And then he'd sit her down and tell her the stories of his dangerous, yet exciting adventures. Bastila couldn't wait. She'd been gone so long. Surely he had some truly amazing stories by now.
She was so wrapped up in imagining their happy reunion that Bastila didn't notice she had company until said company sat down next to her. It was an older girl dressed in Jedi robes with her black hair tied back out of the way.
"I don't think any ships are coming today," the girl said.
Bastila was only irritated by such ill-fortune assurances. "Yeah? How'd you know?"
The girl gestured around the empty docking station. "When the ships come to land, they send the protocol droids and the security drones out. See? It's empty."
Bastila was taken aback by the accurate summation. Now that she thought about it, she realized that the older girl was right. But then she felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach as she realized there was no possibility for her father to show up today, then. Miserably, she murmured, "I want my daddy."
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and Bastila almost jumped at the contact. No one had touched her since she had arrived a week ago. Bastila was six and desperately in need of some comfort in the midst of all this upheaval. The older girl let out a gasp as she was suddenly clung to.
"I want daddy," Bastila repeated.
"You want to make your daddy proud, though, right?"
Bastila pulled away from the older girl and gave her a disparaging glare that was only ruined by a hiccup. Just when she thought she had met someone here that wasn't stupid and annoying. The older girl took it all in stride, however, and grinned. "Of course you do. Sorry, it was a silly question, I know." She turned serious. "I don't think your daddy would be proud of you sitting here waiting for him."
Her first instinct was anger and her chubby little hands balled into fists. "You dunno my daddy t'all!"
"No, but I bet your daddy would be proud if you went home with all sorts of stories of the brave and exciting things you do as a Jedi. You could tell him all about how you're a hero and defender of the Republic."
Bastila's jaw worked silently. Daddy had always come home from his adventures with these great stories. What if the girl was right? What if this was her big and exciting adventure and she could go home and tell Daddy about it? He would be so proud of her!
"And I know it's lonely here in the meantime without your family, but maybe we could be your family for now? I mean... you wouldn't have a mommy or a daddy but you could have lots of brothers and sisters who all want to grow up to be Jedi too."
Bastila was more than happy not having a mother and she didn't want a different father. She'd never had siblings, though and for a moment she fantasized about what it might be like. She looked up at the older girl plaintively. "Really?"
She received a curt nod in response. "Really."
"You gonna be my sister too?"
"If you'd like."
Bastila smiled. Suddenly this place didn't seem so bad. But then she realized she didn't even know the girl's name! Remembering what her parents used to do when they introduced themselves, Bastila stuck out her hand. "I'm Bastila."
The girl didn't take her hand, instead standing up. "Ready for your first lesson, Apprentice Bastila? Us Jedi are stuffy and formal so instead of shaking hands, we bow." She demonstrated. "Here, you try."
Giggling at the joke, Bastila scrambled to her feet and clumsily mimicked the motion. She wasn't very good at it, but she got a nod of approval anyway.
The older girl bowed again and said formally, "I'm glad to meet you, Bastila. My name is Revan."
Bastila awoke, a feeling of discomfort settling in the pit of her stomach as she recalled the dream. It had been a long time since she had dreamed of her childhood. Regardless, she disregarded the dream as just that- a dream. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Bastila got out of bed and prepared for her morning meditation.
Four days later, Bastila was greeting Captain Onasi at the spacedock as his crew went about the business of reloading and refueling.
"Jedi Bastila!" he greeted enthusiastically, extending a hand. "This is quite an honor. I am Carth Onasi, captain of the Endar Spire. I would like to be the first to say thank you for all you have done. Oh, and welcome aboard."
Bastila glanced at his proffered hand. Handshaking was not the Jedi way. In fact, it seemed awfully... plebeian. Instead, she made a slight bow. "Thank you for your kind welcome, Captain Onasi. How long will it take us to rendezvous with the fleet?"
"Roughly two weeks. The war's been quiet since Revan's death, but we've had some news of activity in the Ojoster Sector recently."
At the mention of Revan's supposed end, Bastila had the sudden realization that she would have to be an excellent liar to pull this charade off. Luckily, her Jedi training had prepared her enough that she didn't so much as twitch at the mention of the Sith Lord.
"How long before the Endar Spire is ready to depart?"
"No more than a few hours. Our orders indicate all haste. Seems to me like the generals are all too eager to have their good luck back on the battlefield again."
Bastila bristled at the way Onasi spoke of her Battle Meditation. It was a prized ability, honed through years of training, not some... some charm! She almost gave the man a piece of her mind right then, but reminded herself that she would be aboard this man's ship for the next two weeks. Getting into a quarrel with the man before the ship had even left dock would not make her life easier, even if it would assuage her Jedi pride.
Luckily, Onasi hadn't seemed to notice. "You probably want to know where you'll be staying," he was saying, gesturing to the closest ramp onto the ship. "I'll give you the grand tour."
Deciding it couldn't hurt, Bastila followed the captain up the ramp into the ship. It was not the largest ship she had ever been on, but it was a warship nonetheless. Nowhere was that fact more obvious than in the discipline of the soldiers serving aboard the ship. As the captain approached, the soldiers would step out of his way, salute, and stand at attention until he had passed.
"You run a tight ship, Captain Onasi."
"This is a Republic warship. We do not tolerate a lack of discipline- especially in wartime."
Bastila gave an absent nod as she studied the ship and people around them. Onasi pointed out various notable locations as they strode by them.
"This is the main mess. You will, of course, be more than welcome to take your meals in the officer's mess, of course." Bastily added the point to her growing mental map of the ship, but remained silent, allowing the captain to do all the talking. As they walked past less-noteworthy parts of the ship, Onasi breached a different topic of conversation. "The Jedi aboard will be under your direct command, or so I am told. I have also been informed that there is a soldier transferring aboard as part of your party?"
"Loosely. Though I may require her services at some point, while we are aboard your ship, she will serve as any other Republic soldier."
"And what is her purpose, if I may ask?"
Bastila opened her mouth to give a suitably vague response when she was beaten to it by a vaguely familiar voice. "She is a translator, or so I am told." Both Bastila and Carth turned to face the Jedi who had approached them from behind. "It is good to see you again, Bastila," the Jedi greeted with a bow. "Captain Onasi, I hope you do not mind if I borrow Bastila for a moment?"
Despite the fact that he was in charge of the vessel, Carth knew when he was dismissed. He nodded to both of them. "I'll be on the bridge if you need me."
"Zanthis, this is a pleasant surprise," Bastila remarked. "The council had not told me you would be aboard."
He smiled and gestured back towards the way they had come. She looked at him oddly. With an amused grin, he explained. "The captain was taking you the long way around. I assume he was doing this to give himself more time to interrogate you. That man doesn't trust anyone. Anyway, your quarters are back this way and to answer your question, the Council on Dantooine could not inform you because they themselves were unaware. I was only assigned to this ship a week ago."
Bastila nodded, mulling this information over. "A translator?" she asked, studying Zanthis closely for any sign that he knew the truth.
"As soon as the Endar Spire docked, I paid a visit to Master Zhar. He appraised me of the situation. As it would happen, she woke up this morning and started spouting Mandalorian, or so I am told. Master Zhar thought it a suitable excuse. Be careful, however. This information has not been placed in the official records yet."
"So you know?"
Zanthis nodded and Bastila let out a relieved sigh. The idea that there was someone else here who knew lifted an enormous weight from her shoulders. Suddenly her task did not seem quite as immense.
"Here," he said, opening the door to a small-yet-comfortable room. "This is yours." Once they were safely inside and out of reach of prying ears, he returned to the topic at hand and explained, "It would have been too dangerous for them to keep it a secret from me. I would have recognized her anyway."
"Yes. Of course."
The silence that ensued was full of unasked questions. Zanthis stared levelly at Bastila for nearly a minute before saying, "My own quarters are next door. I look forward to serving with you, Padawan Shan."
"Likewise, Knight Zanthis."
He stalled a moment more before finally removing himself from the room.
Bastila sat down heavily on the surprisingly luxurious bed. She would not be alone. The thought gave her more comfort than she cared to admit.