"Bastila! You're alive!" Onasi exclaimed as the Jedi in question followed Revan into their 'hideout'. "Finally, things are starting to look up. Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet."

Bastila would have been hard pressed to match the captain's enthusiasm, even if she had wanted to. Now that the adrenalin had worn off, she was feeling sore and sick from her treatment at Brejik's hands and the fact that she had not slept in the past day was not helping the fact. She was sporting one or two minor cuts from the scuffle at the race track which were starting to sting angrily for lack of attention. To top it all off, Revan had insisted on taking a longer route to their destination, muttering something about 'avoiding suspicion'.

In short, she had no energy to summon to do anything, nevermind come up with some sort of plan to get off the planet, as he seemed to be asking. Why should she be the one to come up with this plan? Just yesterday, she'd been shackled to a wall under the effects of a neural disruptor while they'd been running around making deals with swoop gangs or whatever it was they had been doing.

"You mean you don't have a plan yet? What have you been doing all this time?"

"Looking for you," Revan drawled from behind her, as though speaking to a slow child. Bastila swallowed her pride and the harsh retort that threatened. Instead, she turned to Revan, seeing her leaning against the wall next to the door with arms crossed and one foot flat against the wall. Like Brejik, Revan apparently didn't think much of her. This would not do. She was placed in charge. The Masters had confidence in her abilities to control Revan. She would have to do so.

"Anyway, now that I am here, perhaps things will start going more smoothly. I would rather not see a repeat of your attempt to… rescue me from Brejik."

"Hey," Carth said harshly. "You may be new at this, but a commander doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't quite going as planned. Don't let your ego get in the way of the mission."

Bastila was suddenly feeling very put-upon. Revan and Carth were standing on opposite sides of the room, forcing her to turn back and forth when they switched off speaking. Were they doing this on purpose?

"Is that how you always speak to your commanding officers, Captain Onasi? I am a member of the Jedi Order and I am the one in charge of this mission. Is that understood?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Bastila cringed inwardly. She shouldn't have said that. Regardless, she had to forge ahead and maintain control. "My Battle Meditation has served the Republic many times in this war, and it will serve us well here, I am sure."

Onasi crossed his arms, practically glaring at her. "Your talents may have won us a few battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader. A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will."

"Stop it," Revan snapped, interrupting Bastila from her planned retort. "This isn't doing any of us any good."

Bastila felt stupid. Carth wasn't the enemy here. In fact, he seemed perfectly happy with her in charge as long as she was willing to listen. Her eyes shifted to Revan. No, it was Revan who was the real problem here. Left up to her own devices, who knew what Revan would do?

Regardless, she was burning bridges where she should have been building them. Like it or not, she needed Onasi's skill and expertise to get off this planet. Moreover, she needed Revan to be willing to follow her lead.

"Forgive me, Captain Onasi-"

"Call me Carth."

"…Carth. You are correct, of course. This has been a… difficult time for me." She turned to Revan. "I suppose I owe you an apology as well. If you had not come when you did, I might not have been able to escape Brejik's grasp. What is it you suggest we do?"

Revan raised an eyebrow, but it was Carth who responded. "Listen, we can't keep getting hung up on who's in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock. The answer's out there. We just have to find it."

Bastila thought about racing off to find the answer, only to realize how bad an idea that was. Exhaustion was beating at the edges of her mind and she couldn't quite reason clearly. Biting back a yawn, she tried to put on a pleasant smile. "Well said, Carth. But before we do that, is there somewhere I could rest? This day has been particularly trying."

Revan gestured to the room's bed. "I'm guessing you're hungry as well. We need more rations. I'll pick some up."

The olive branch was as relieving as it was surprising. As Bastila helped herself to the bed- hard as it was, it was just about the most comfortable thing she had ever felt- she heard Carth protesting. "You've had a long day as well, Envar. Catch some rest. I'll get the rations."

Envar. That was Revan's new name. Sleep already grabbing at the edges of her consciousness, Bastila chided herself that she had to remember Revan's new name.

But before she could commit it to memory, unconsciousness enveloped her.

*.*.*

The silence was uncomfortable. One might even say awkward. Bastila preferred the word 'uncomfortable', however. It described exactly how she felt sitting across the small table from Revan, eating the canned food Carth had managed to scrounge up for their breakfast. Neither of them had said a word since waking up this morning. Bastila had gotten the rest she needed in the room's sole bed while Revan had curled up in one of the room's seats. Carth was still nowhere to be seen and that troubled her.

It did not trouble her quite so much, however, as the distinct lack of conversation happening between her and Revan.

Bastila was no stranger to sitting in silence with others. Meditation frequently happened in the presence of others. However, this was not like that. This silence was something else. She only wished she knew how to break it without making things worse.

Swallowing a bite of the canned… whatever this was (she didn't particularly feel brave enough to check the label and find out), she glanced up at Revan and their eyes met. For the briefest moment, there was a flicker of something in Revan's expression.

"Is… is something wrong?" Bastila asked hesitantly. Revan looked back at her flatly. "You seem almost as though something is troubling you."

"It is nothing," Revan replied definitely, shutting down that line of conversation.

Yes, uncomfortable was probably the best word for the silence between them. Bastila wondered if she should apologize again or even bother with restarting the conversation. Thus far, none of her attempts to talk to Revan had met with any success.

She wished Carth was here.

No. She was a Jedi. Jedi could handle their own problems without the assistance of Republic officers. This was a problem she could handle on her own.

She set her can and spoon aside. "I would like to know what happened after you crashed on Taris."

"We were looking for you."

No. Revan would not get off so easily this time. They would have a conversation if it killed her, Bastila swore. "I realize that, of course. But surely there was more to it than a simple search. I doubt there were flashing signs that pointed you in my direction; yet somehow you found me."

"Your point?"

Bastila pursed her lips. "You managed to avoid detection by the Sith, discover that I was a prisoner, gained sponsorship for the race, and became the Taris swoop champion. Each of those alone is quite a task, but the fact that you managed all of that in such a short amount of time is nothing short of amazing."

"You say that as though I am responsible for all of that."

Bastila took another spoonful of her 'breakfast' to cover her amusement. "Are you saying that you are not?" At Revan's raised eyebrow, Bastila continued. "Carth Onasi may be a war hero and a well-respected officer, but he seemed to defer to you. Was I mistaken?"

Revan was silent for a long moment. At length, she replied, "You were not mistaken. But I can't take credit for everything. I had a lot of help. Carth, yes, but Mission and Zaalbar, too- you'll meet them soon."

"Your modesty is admirable," Bastila praised, hoping that this was, in fact, true modesty and not some manipulation. "But though others helped, you were the catalyst for these events."

Revan finished her breakfast and closed the can, setting it aside for future disposal. "And?" she prompted, seemingly utterly unimpressed by the fact that she was being complimented by a Jedi.

Bastila would simply have to try harder to win her over, then. "When you were first chosen for this mission, I doubt anyone expected this much of you. A Jedi could have done such things, of course, but only by drawing heavily on the Force."

As soon as the words left her lips, Bastila realized what she had just said. The Force. Had Revan reattained her connection to the Force? That could spell disaster.

Revan, however, seemed amused and entirely unaware of Bastila's alarm. "What, now you think I'm a Jedi? Yesterday you were convinced I was incompetent."

"I have revised my opinion since then. Anyway, the Force works through all of us in some degree or another. There are some individuals outside the Jedi Order considered 'Force sensitive'."

The more she thought about it, the more Bastila didn't believe that Revan's successes on Taris could have happened without the pull of the Force. There was no luck, after all; there was the Force. She could not sense any Force connection from Revan, however, so treating her as if she was simply 'Force sensitive' seemed like the best option at the moment.

"It is obvious to me," she continued, "that the Force has been working through you. There is no other explanation for your great success… though… I am not certain what to make of this discovery."

"Don't call it a discovery until you have proof that is not entirely circumstantial."

"Yes, well, this is a matter best left to the masters. When we get off of Taris, it would be wise to seek their opinion on such things." And to ensure that Revan was still cut off from the Force.

Revan frowned and stood up, crossing the room to retrieve a small, but heavy-looking bag. "Have you recovered?" she asked as she reached a hand into the bag and rummaged around. A sound of metallic clunking accompanied the action.

"I have, thank you," Bastila replied, touched by the thoughtfulness of the question.

With a slight "Aha," Revan found what she was looking for. "Good, because we need everyone at their best. You will likely need to be able to use this."

Bastila let out a relieved and overjoyed breath before schooling her features back into the impassivity she was supposed to maintain. It was her lightsaber, safe and unharmed. She had assumed it lost. The weight and feel of it in her hand was a comfort in a trying situation.

"Also, Carth should be returning soon with some new clothes for you. The stuff we scavenged yesterday was good enough for getting you out of the undercity, but it won't pass for blending here. The human-friendly washroom is down the hall to your right."

As if summoned, Carth's voice sounded from the doorway. "Looking for these?"

"Carth," Revan replied. "Perfect timing. Bastila, why don't you go get cleaned up?"

"Oh, you thought I meant the clothes? I was referring to these two, but I've got the clothes too," Carth joked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at… was that a Wookie?

Bastila was completely nonplussed by the appearance of the Twi'lek and her Wookie companion, to say the least and she was given no time to take it all in. The Twi'lek was already bouncing towards her. "Ooh! You must be Bastila! I'm Mission and this here's Zaalbar. I'm glad you're OK. Carth'n'Envar've been workin real hard to find you."

Envar. Revan. Right. Wait… did the masters really make her name an anagram of her real name? Master Zhar certainly had a twisted sense of humor.

On the other side of the room, Carth was talking to Revan. Bastila managed to catch some of what he was saying. "…messenger. Mission says that Mandalorian sent him. Canderous, I think his name was. Couldn't understand him myself, but she said that…"

She tried to listen to whatever else was being said, but the Twi'lek was talking to her again. "Hey, you OK? You seem a little spacey. Hello?"

Bastila faked a smile around her irritation. "I am just fine- Mission, was it? If you do not mind, I need to freshen up. Please excuse me."

She wound her way around Mission and the Wookie whose name she had already forgotten, making a beeline for Carth. The officer handed her the clothes absently as he continued talking to Revan. Bastila slowed her progress to the door to hear what was being said.

"…said they haven't talked to Gadon yet. Don't know why not, but apparently things are rough in the Undercity right now with Brejik dead. Can't say I like the idea of them going down there again with all the ruckus…"

Realizing that the conversation meant nothing to her, Bastila sighed and stepped out of the room into the nearly-empty corridor. As she followed the rather terse directions she'd been given, Bastila couldn't help but fantasize about taking a hot shower. Nothing would wash away the week's trials and tribulations like a scalding hot shower; or better, a long soak in a tub. However, Bastila was not naïve enough to think she would find a bathtub in this facility.

As she would discover, she had been naïve to even expect a shower. The human-friendly washroom was nothing more than a toilet and a sink with a broken mirror. At least it had a lock.

Apparently, hot water was too much to ask as well. The tap ran the gamut from ice-cold to lukewarm. The soap dispenser was utterly empty, repaying her urgent attempts to use it with nothing but gurgling hisses.

Bastila cleaned herself as best she was able, and by the time she was done, she was absolutely miserable. The lukewarm water had ceased to even feel lukewarm and she was all-but shivering until she donned her new wardrobe.

The clothes were, unsurprisingly, the high point of the process. Carth had apparently known what to get her. They were partially brown- though not quite the color of Jedi robes- and almost robe-like in cut. They fit well- though not perfectly- and allowed her the ease of movement Jedi combat required. She would have to thank the Captain for his thoughtfulness.

Thus, feeling at least marginally better, she exited the washroom and walked the short distance back to their small apartment.

While she was gone, the others had apparently all gathered around the room's low table, where they all sat. When she entered, Carth noticed and beckoned her over.

"Looks like they fit. I'm glad. I wasn't really sure what measurements to give them, so I had to guess a bit."

"They fit rather nicely. Thank you, Carth. Out of curiosity, though, where did you find the money for this?"

"Swoop winnings, mostly. We've done a few odd jobs around Taris for some spare change, but the winnings will hold us over for a while. Anyway, join us. We'll bring you up to speed."

Bastila took a seat at the table in between Carth and Mission- both of whom scooted over to make room for her.

At a nod from Carth, Revan took control of the meeting. "I believe you met Mission and Zaalbar already. They are both locals who have been helping us. It was thanks to Mission that I was able to get into the swoop race at all. Carth you already know.

"Our first objective was finding you. With that done, our only remaining objective is getting off this planet. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but the entire planet is under Sith quarantine. Carth is fairly certain that their objective is finding you, given your importance to the war effort."

Carth nodded decisively, before adding, "Making it our duty to the Republic to make sure you make it back to Republic space safe and sound."

"Easier said than done," Revan picked up. "All ships are grounded unless they have Sith passcodes to get through the blockade. The only way out is through them somehow. Gadon Bek and other Taris residents have been trading in all things Sith, looking for ways around the quarantine. We managed to get papers from them in exchange for Sith uniforms. Something as valuable as the blockade codes aren't likely to be for sale, even in the black market, but Mission and Zaalbar have been getting in touch with their contacts and hunting for anything we could use."

Bastila's hopes sank at that. "And that is our only lead?"

"My newfound fame may have bought us another lead. It's dangerous that many people may know my face, but it can't be helped now. Anyway, Canderous Ordo is a mercenary working for the Exchange's local crime boss. I do not know why, but he asked for a meeting with me. If anyone non-Sith can find a way off this rock, it'll be the Exchange. Don't quite like the idea of working with them, but this quarantine is probably hurting them as much as us. Still, I don't know just how many 'favors' it'll take to buy our way out of here and that's worrying."

So… hunting for black market information or the Exchange. Bastila's hopes were not getting any higher.

"So, now that you know what's what, it's about time we got down to business. Mission, Zaalbar, you know what to do. Bastila, Carth, you're with me. I want some extra eyes and ears in that cantina when I go to meet with the mercenary."

Well, Bastila thought wistfully, so much for being in charge.

*.*.*

The bartender had grumbled when Bastila ordered water, but she had tipped him to make up for it. It wouldn't do for her to drink while she was supposed to be using her senses, but Reven had also warned her against appearing out of place.

The Mandalorian she had presumed was Canderous Ordo was sitting at one of the nearby tables, enjoying a drink that was probably Tarisian Ale. Carth was sitting across the room, chatting it up with one of the female patrons to appear inconspicuous. This whole setup had convinced Bastila of one thing: Revan was paranoid.

Nothing in the life the masters had given her should have made Revan paranoid, and yet she insisted on being prepared for anything that might happen.

Bastila spied Revan entering the room and took a sip of her water. She wished it were tea, but she doubted such an establishment would stock such a thing.

Unlike Bastila and Carth, who were biding their time, Revan strode right up to Canderous' table and sat down at one of the available seats. Well, 'sat down' wasn't quite the proper phrase. Sprawled might have been a more accurate description. Revan was the picture of cockiness as she smirked at the mercenary.

"Heard you were looking for me."

Canderous made a motion to flag down one of the waiters. "Want anything?" he asked gruffly.

"Yeah," Revan responded, "To know why I'm here."

"Right down to business. Just the way I like it. Anyway, I saw you in the swoop race. Very impressive."

"I thought we were cutting the small talk."

Canderous left his glass on the table and leaned back, adopting a similar pose to Revan's. "We are. You seem like you know how to get results. I'm looking for someone like that."

"Isn't that what people usually hire you for?"

"Look, I want off this planet. To do that, I need the Sith launch codes."

Revan scoffed. "You and the rest of this planet."

"Yeah, but the rest of this planet ain't got a ship and a droid that can hack into the Sith military base. All I need is someone crazy enough to try."

"Why not do it yourself if you have everything you need?"

Canderous sighed and made an exaggerated shrug. "Everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the Sith base, they'd send an army down on Davik's estate to get those codes back. Listen, if you get me those codes, I get you a ship to get off planet with. We both get what we want."

"I'll help you on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Got a couple others need transportation off this planet. They come too."

Now it was Canderous' turn to smirk. "You mean the flyboy and her?" Bastila nearly choked on her water as Canderous cocked a thumb in her direction. "Don't be surprised. I saw flyboy following you around like a lost puppy and this one wasn't exactly subtle about listening in."

Bastila tried not to blush. She really did. She cast around for anything to say to make herself seem less useless. "I… didn't sense any deception from him. I believe that this is exactly what we need."

Canderous laughed softly. "Anyway, pay a visit to Janice Nall and tell her Canderous sent you. She'll sell you the droid. I'll be waiting for you in Jayvar's cantina. You come find me when you've got those launch codes and I'll make sure we all get off this rock."

Looking back on the conversation, Bastila was surprised to discover that more than lacking any sign of deception, she trusted the Mandalorian to pull through for them and it seemed that Revan did, too.

Carth voiced his concerns loudly on the way out of the cantina, but both women ignored him.