"...and I have Pazaak! Pay up, boys - that's another fifteen you owe me, flyboy - and the Jedi owes me fifteen too." The flickering flames of the campfire illuminated the grin on Canderous' face. Luck was certainly on his side tonight!

Carth tossed over the last of his credichips, and stood. "I think it's time I turned in. Getting late. See you two in the morning." As he walked away from the campfire towards the Ebon Hawk, Canderous called after him.

"Oi! Republico! You lost everything! Old habits die hard, eh?"

The Jedi looked at the retreating figure and earnestly hoped that the private discussion he had had with Carth during the last hyperspace jump from Tatooine had borne fruit. It had been difficult enough to make Carth see that the vitriol and animosity which he harboured would only hurt him in the long run. Obtaining his assent to a plan which would pave the way to a lasting future peace between Mandalorian and Republic officer had been exponentially more difficult.

Carth stopped at the ramp of the Ebon Hawk. For a moment, his back became a little more rigid, and the Jedi held his breath. No, Carth - it isn't worth it - remember our agreement, he silently urged, hoping that Carth would not take the proffered bait and recommence hostilities with the Mandalorian. Refusing to be drawn was a decision that Carth would have to make independently. Slaying the inner demons which continued to plague him was a battle that Carth needed to fight and win himself. He could offer support and encouragement - but certainly not 'stack the decks', as Mission phrased it, by using force. Or the Force, for that matter.

Canderous' gaze was likewise fixed solidly on Carth. He's waiting, thought the Jedi. He wants to see what Carth will do. Just as I knew he would.

Over at the ramp, Carth fought down the bitter rage and resentment that was welling up inside of him. It was difficult - so difficult - all those years of incessant war, the suffering, the unprecedented desolation, the cries of the wounded, Telos, his wife... Dustil...

With a supreme effort, Carth willed himself to confront the anger and hatred which boiled up all too readily inside of him ever since Telos. An officer was only as good as his word, and he had given the Jedi his word. I am not Saul Karath, Carth reminded himself. He shut his eyes and took a deep, slow breath.

"Bit early for that conclusion, Canderous. I'm up for another game tomorrow if you are. Higher stakes, even, if you like. Goodnight."

The Jedi let out the breath he had been holding in a long, soft exhalation. Canderous was staring at the now-empty ramp with puzzlement and suspicion in his eyes.

"Oi, Jedi - you hear that? Flyboy wants another game...! Higher stakes? Can't lose enough, can he? Betcha he doesn't mean it. Gonna be Republic Senate rules from here on out..." Canderous finished the last of the ale which he had brought from Tatooine, and swept his winnings into the empty glass.

"Tastes like bloody piss-water." Canderous spat to the side, stood and stretched. "You playing again tomorrow, Jedi?"

"I suppose so," the Jedi said. "How shall we up the stakes this time?" He put out the campfire and strolled casually towards the Ebon Hawk, the Mandalorian beside him.

"Up the stakes? I'm for it, but can you two really afford to lose any more? You saw how I cleaned you both out tonight!"

The Jedi shrugged. "Yeah, I guess we lost pretty bad. Doesn't matter, though. We'll play for twenty a hand tomorrow."

Canderous stopped at the bottom of the ramp. "Look - no insult meant, but seriously? The way you two play, I'm going to end up being the only man amongst us with any credits at all. And I sure as kark am not one for charity, so if you think you're gonna be getting handouts from me in future, you've got another think coming."

Turning, the Jedi flashed Canderous his trademark grin. "No worries, mate. A deal's a deal. Twenty a hand tomorrow it is. Pazaak's a bit like life and war, anyway. You never know when the tide might turn. Goodnight, old man."

The Mandalorian scratched the back of his neck and spat. These Republicos were weirdos, guaranteed. He'd never met people so keen to lose good credits for no reason at all. But then he was never one to look a gift rancor in the mouth: if another high-stakes game was what they wanted, it was what they'd get.

Mission sniggered to herself as she put the finishing touches on her latest creation. Bastila and Juhani were staying in the Enclave again tonight, just like the night before. The guys were presently outside playing at camping with that stupid fire of theirs and their high-stakes Pazaak game. Zaalbar had complained that the Ebon Hawk was claustrophobic: doubtless he was roaming around the plains of Dantooine, doing whatever it is Wookiees who feel the call of the wild do. Probably hunting something, Mission thought. She rather hoped it would be lots of small and edible 'somethings', as opposed to one of those horrid kath hounds: a tender meat stew with lots of tubers and mushrooms - did Zaalbar know how to pick mushrooms? - wouldn't go amiss.

At any rate, the T3 unit was busy fixing whatever it was fixing, and that crazy blaster-toting droid had been ordered to shut down until further notice. "Nobody's gonna see this Mission," the Twi'lek teenager muttered to herself.

She cast a critical eye over her new toy. A hidden camera. This would go nicely on the head of the shower unit in the 'fresher. If she angled it just right, she should be able to get some good captures of people grooming themselves. Of course, this wasn't really an invasion of anyone's privacy, because, like, it wasn't as if the camera were pointed at the shower stall, which would be totally, like, wrong - besides, this was just basic personal grooming that was going to be observed, nothing special. Right? Mission nodded approvingly at the remote camera assembly before her, and commended herself for the fine workmanship displayed in its creation.

All that talk about it being non-traditional for Wookiees to bathe? Like, totally get real...! Zaalbar probably didn't bathe because he didn't know how to get himself looking presentable again afterwards. He hadn't been as lucky as she had - she, at least, had Griff, who had done right by her. Taught her to look after herself. Things like the importance of brushing one's teeth, looking good, picking locks, slicing security systems...something about "using protection" which he never explained satisfactorily but which she would probably understand at some point - yeah, well so it was an unorthodox upbringing, but hey! Whoever said that family had to be perfect, huh?

So, like - Zaalbar is family, right? And you always stand by family, right? Right. Mission congratulated herself for her right-thinking attitude. Zaalbar is like family. Kinda like a smelly, retard cousin with, like, a total image crisis but family nonetheless. And if Zaalbar didn't know how to groom himself - poor pookie! - then Mission would give him a demonstrative lesson. With real-life models.

Mission congratulated herself again, this time for her spectacular reasoning skills.

"I'm out of credits, and so are you. Just so we're clear on this - that man is a certified pain in the ass and if I have to swallow one more kriffing jibe from him about... about - you know, losing, politics, the Republic - anything! I... I don't know if I'll be able to take much more of this shit, man." Carth pinched the bridge of his nose and silently counted to ten.

The Jedi nodded. "I know. His ego is frustrating. And you know - we both knew - that he would say things calculated to wind you up. But you haven't given him the reaction he's looking for, and that confuses him. He's also getting complacent with his play, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Carth harrumphed and poked at the campfire, before adding more wood to it. "He's only an average Pazaak player, if you ask me. Just bloody thinks he's the bees' knees."

"True. And now he's getting careless too, because he thinks he's unbeatable. He doesn't know we haven't been playing seriously."

"How'd you know he'd start getting complacent?"

"Frankly? I can't explain how. I just did. He - you could say he fits the type, if you know what I mean."

Carth nodded. "Get one of them in every garrison, you do." He stared into the dwindling flames morosely. "What are we going to offer for a wager tomorrow?"

"We make him an offer he can't refuse," stated the Jedi simply. "We wager the Ebon Hawk."

"You're kriffing insane, even for a Jedi," Carth blurted. "Then again, who in their right mind enters a high-stakes wager against a Jedi?"

"Canderous Ordo."

"You're going to use the Force, aren't you?"

"Yep. And you are going to hit him with everything you've got."

Carth evaluated the state of their campfire and decided that it needed more oxygen. "The Princess is not going to approve at all."

"She sure as hell isn't going to approve."

"I foresee another long sermon in your future." Carth grinned, and knelt to blow gently at the embers of their fire. Bastila, in his opinion, was a regular nag. What his friend saw in her, he couldn't fathom.

The Jedi winced. "So do I. Say, do you think Republic insurance policy covers aural damage sustained from exposure to feminine histrionics conducted at high amplitude?"

Carth inhaled ash.

Hyperspace again. Goodbye Dantooine, hello Kashyyyk. Definitely a vast improvement over Tatooine, thought the Jedi. What were those trees called, again? Wroshyr, that was it. Funny. For some reason, he was certain that he'd stopped by Kashyyyk at least once before - but the Republic had never sent him there. As a matter of fact, he was absolutely convinced, too, that he had visited Tatooine, as well - but try as he might, he just could not remember when, or under what circumstances. Come to think of it, he seemed to be missing rather a lot of his memories - his childhood, what Deralia was like, even who his parents and family were.

Maybe he should get his head checked the next time they went back to Dantooine? Perhaps he had sustained some damage from the events on the Endar Spire, or from crash-landing on Taris? If so, best to get it sorted out before he started seeing pink banthas everywhere. Master Vandar seemed the friendly and helpful sort - perhaps he'd be able to diagnose the problem.

The Jedi leaned back in the pilot's seat and chewed thoughtfully on a stem of grass he had plucked in Dantooine. The cockpit door opened and he felt a familiar presence behind him.

"What did you do to Canderous while Juhani and I were gone? He's sulking!" The Jedi discreetly disposed of the stem of grass and swivelled around to face Bastila. She had her arms crossed, and wore a look of mild consternation.

"Nothing. He just lost badly at Pazaak, Princess."

"You lot played Pazaak while - I don't believe my ears - you're a Jedi! Avarice is a path to the Dark Side!" Shock and displeasure were writ across Bastila's face.

"Would you believe me if I told you there were very good reasons why, apart from my desire to buy you flowers?"

Bastila crossed over to the co-pilot's seat and sat down. Flowers, indeed...! "This had better be good," she said. "I'm listening."

"Carth and Canderous bickering does nothing for the general morale, and if allowed to continue, it would prove detrimental to the successful performance of our mission. Canderous simply doesn't respect Carth, because he doesn't respect the Republic, and Carth wears its uniform. He also knows that Carth has some very deep personal hurts, and he's not above rubbing salt into the proverbial wound. Unless and until he starts viewing Carth in a different light, he's not going to stop needling Carth, and their quarrels are only going to get worse."

"I do not see what any of this has to do with Pazaak," said Bastila impatiently.

"Lots, actually. Carth needs to learn to ignore taunts, jibes, and generally to conquer his personal demons before he can heal and move on. Canderous needs to see that true honour doesn't lie in winning every fight. You remember what he said about the way the Mandalorians treated defeated Republic worlds?"

Bastila nodded. "They decimated whole cities. Senseless slaughter of civilians. The Cathar had it particularly bad."

"Exactly. That happened because the Mandalorians think anyone they defeat on the field of battle deserves nothing more than to be trampled underfoot. Canderous is no exception. He had no compunction bankrupting us whatsoever - "

Bastila cut in. "Bankrupted! You told me you only played one game!"

"I didn't say that. We had three games, actually," he confessed. "Carth and I allowed Canderous to clean us out by the second round. I ...knew that Canderous wouldn't be able to resist doing so if he had the upper hand, and that he would jibe Carth mercilessly as long as he did. But that would give Carth an opportunity to face his inner demons. Moreover," the Jedi hastily added, as Bastila's eyebrows started to knit themselves together, "I needed to make Canderous see the value of mercy. Carth and I stopped once we won back every credit that we lost. We didn't take a single credit over. Canderous now has food for thought."

The frown that had worked itself into Bastila's face started to disappear. "Well, I never...! That was... rather clever of you."

"Thank you. Princesses deserve only the best."

Bastila was about to make a sharp retort when a sudden thought hit her. "Wait. You said you were out of credits by the end of the second game - what in the galaxy did you wager in the third!"

If ever there were an opportune time to change subject, it would be now, said a little voice in the Jedi's mind. He concurred. "You have such lovely hair, Princess. Why don't you wear it down more often? I like the way it frames your face."

In Bastila's head, Logic coughed politely and murmured that perhaps some questions were best left unanswered. Curiosity kneed Logic in the groin, and flashed a conspiratorial wink. Bastila caved.

"Don't change the subject! What did you wager?"

"Will you still let me buy you flowers if I tell you?" Stall for time, Juhani should be here any minute now, her shift at the controls is about to start. The Jedi smiled in what he hoped was a debonair fashion at the incredulous Human female who occupied his immediate field of vision.

"I'm not in the mood for games - what did you wager?"

"I missed you lots while we were on Dantooine. Did you know I went to the Enclave to look for you?"

A look of surprise crossed Bastila's face. "You did? I'm sorry, I didn't kn - hey! Stop that. You didn't wager what I think you did, did you?"

Uh oh. Juhani, where in the Force are you? "No, I did not wager my lightsaber. I wanted to go for a walk with you."

"I wasn't thinking of your equipment."

"Thank the Force for that! Much as I like you, it's still a little early for you to be thinking about my... lightsaber." The Jedi earnestly hoped that Juhani would deign to manifest herself within the next sixty seconds.

Bastila groaned, leaned forward and bumped her head repeatedly on the low partition.

"That is beyond puerile, and well you know it," she chided.

"I have to get your attention somehow," countered the Jedi. "And you only ever pay me any attention if you think I'm in danger of going Dark, or being naughty. One would think you liked scoundrels, or that there weren't enough scoundrels in your life."

"I happen to like nice men." Bastila bumped her forehead against the low partition again. "I mean - what - I'm a Jedi...!"

"I'm a nice man."

"Prove it."

"I will buy you flowers."

"You will tell me what you wagered."

Bugger, thought the Jedi. He craned his neck to peer through the window in the cockpit door, hoping that Juhani was somewhere in the vicinity of the cockpit. No such luck.

"There was no way Canderous could have won. Between you and I? He played like a half-drunken Rodian."

"I'm waiting," warned Bastila.

"And Carth's an absolutely killer player. I wonder - is that what they all used to get up to in the officers' mess?" He thought he heard the soft, steady footfall of Juhani echoing down the corridor. Hurry up, old girl...!

"I am only going to ask one more time: what did you wager!"

Almost on cue, the cockpit door opened, admitting Juhani. "I am so sorry for the lateness. I was in the 'fresher and I thought there was a buzzing that I heard, but where it came from I was not able to find out. Do you think we missed one of the gizka?"

"Ah, Juhani - what a pleasure! No trouble at all. In fact, you arrived just in time. Bastila was just getting worried about the Ebon Hawk, but I'm sure you'll be able to put her mind at rest. After all, I've twice the claim to it that anyone has - 'finders keepers, losers weepers' - you know? Goodnight, ladies. Princess? Charmed, as always." Quickly making his exit before Bastila could pounce on him, the Jedi headed straight for the men's cabin.

Juhani turned to Bastila, who had forsaken bumping her forehead against the low partition in favour of adopting a semi-recumbent position across the control display.

"Are you all good? You look to be pale, Bastila."

"It is nothing," groaned Bastila weakly. The Ebon Hawk! He'd wagered the Ebon Hawk! He was absolutely stark staring mad. She felt as if the cockpit were spinning about her.

Peering over the low partition, Juhani surveyed Bastila's semi-prone form critically. "I am not so sure. Did you eat something poor?"

"No, my stomach is all right, I think... I think I should go and lie down." Bastila made to stand, but her legs refused to co-operate. She settled for staring blankly out of the viewport.

Concerned, Juhani stood and went to her fellow Jedi's side. She put her hand on Bastila's forehead and frowned. Bastila's temperature felt normal.

"You are right. There is nothing wrong with you that I can feel. Did he upset you? What did he say?"

"They played Pazaak with Canderous while we were at the Enclave. They won."

Juhani frowned. "Pazaak? They? Carth and our friend there? With Canderous, you are saying? Typical males." She was not sure she understood why this would upset Bastila so much. After all, men were known to do strange things if left to their own devices.

Bastila turned her head and looked Juhani squarely in the eye.

"He wagered the Ebon Hawk, Juhani."

It was a very perplexed Cathar Jedi that greeted Carth when he arrived to take over the controls five hours later.