Writer's notes: Updated by Candace 11/17/06. This time, we go from light back to darkness. Aerin is given a situation in which the void in her heart can be filled, but will she misuse it? Also, she gets another lesson in leadership.
We see more of Bastila here too.
Look into the Eyes of the Dragon – Part II
Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men
Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty heart
Dare the unpastured dragon in his den?
Percy Bysshe Shelley - Adonais
Tatooine – Aboard the Ebon Hawk
As the number of fires to be put out rose, Aerin was feeling task saturated. She closed her eyes momentarily, thinking of her favorite gazebo on far-off Dantooine and refocused herself. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes again and forced herself to grin.
"Carth, please get some people and round up these Gizka. Zaalbar, I'll be with you shortly. Okay, Mission, let's have a chat with Griff."
Leaving the loading ramp, the Padawan and the Twi'lek trudged down the corridor to the small galley, where Griff was fixing himself a sandwich. The galley was a mess and various condiments lay spilled and strewn about the counters, painting the metallic room in bright, circus colors. As he heard them enter, he turned around and spoke with his mouth full, "Mmmm, you have the best Bestine Smoked Kolobird I've tasted in a while… and where did you get this Tarisian Spice Mustard?"
Aerin forced a tooth-baring grin and pointed at one of the tables. "Griff, let's talk…." The green Twi'lek sheepishly took a seat and then took another huge bit from his sandwich.
"Griff…the rules aboard this vessel include asking how to use the food replicator first and maintaining a clean galley," the Padawan instructed with great restraint while several Gizka swarmed about, slurping up bits of Griff's mess. One leapt up on Aerin's head and began nesting in her short hair. Continuing to maintain her phony smile, she added, "Do you understand, Griff? I'd hate for you to accidentally fall into the disposal chute…haha."
Griff stopped chewing and looked at the dark-haired woman, unsure of whether or not she was joking. "I thought you Jedi don't kid around."
"I'm still new to the Order…I haven't learned that part yet," she quipped as she pushed the Gizka off of her head and it fell to the deck with a squeak.
Off to the side, Mission was cleaning up Griff's mess with the help of T3. "Say, brother, don't you have a job waiting for you with Czerka?"
Griff's lekku turned a darker shade of green and crumbs fell out of his mouth. "Oh, yah…I'm quite a bigshot there, you know," he said, puffing his chest out. "Hey, I was working on an idea before I was captured. I got an angle, you know…since Taris' destruction, I can brew Tarisian Ale. The prices have skyrocketed and we'll be rich!"
"We?" asked Aerin, skeptically.
"Yes, you'll be my silent partner and for only two-hundred credits, I'll give you twenty percent of the company. It would be best if you paid me up front."
Mission stormed up to Griff and slapped him on the arm. "Dammit Griff, quit hitting my friend up for money. I'm ashamed of you."
Aerin furrowed her brows. Poor Mission, we come all this way only to find out Griff is a slimeball. Wanting to save Mission further embarrassment, the Padawan reached into her pocket and pulled out a number of silver slips.
"Here's my investment, Griff."
He looked back and forth between the money and the woman, incredulous that she would actually agree to this. With his jaw halfway open and food spilling out, he took the credits. "Gee, thanks…. Oh, I also need you to get Tach Glands from Kashyyyk, if you don't mind."
Aerin stood and raised her eyebrows as her patience ran out. Without another word, she walked off in search of the next fire.
Mission made an angry face at Griff and slapped him again. "Don't you dare embarrass me like that again in front of her! Now, clean this mess up or I'll take you back to the Sand People myself."
Aerin walked back to the storage room to find Zaalbar there, inspecting the empty food wrappers. Incriminating evidence lay scattered about, a testament to someone's hunger.
"I'm going to wring that Griff's neck," she said, exasperated.
The Wookie shook his head. "It wasn't Griff. He went straight to the galley. I've asked the rest of the crew and everyone denies getting into the food stores."
The Padawan scratched her head. A cold prickly developed in her stomach. Don't tell me Calo Nord managed to sneak on.
"Z, stand ready, we may have an intruder."
The Wookie pulled a wicked-looking scythe from his belt and took a ready stance. Aerin drew her lightsaber, but kept it unpowered. She inhaled deeply and let her energy flow through the room. Tendrils of mental power searched through the access panels and behind bins.
Someone is here…. I don't understand…Aerin marched over to a stack of crates and something scurried away. She ran around the stack only to hear more scurrying, but she was gaining on it. As she was sure she was right behind it, Aerin ran into Zaalbar, who had come to help. The Padawan fell backwards, sprawled on the deck, just as Bastila was entering.
"I felt someone using the Force, is everything all r-" the auburn-haired Jedi began. She saw Aerin sprawling on the deck, holding her head, while Zaalbar was trying to help her up. Gizka bounced over Aerin, cooing and squeaking. Uncharacteristically, Bastila let out a deep belly laugh. She quickly stifled it, regaining control. Then, she saw a small being on top of the crates, looking down at the comical scene.
"Wait, there is a child in here."
Zaalbar's face took on a confused look, until he turned his head and looked eyeball to eyeball with a blonde girl, no more than seven standard years old. With a howl of terror, the huge Wookie fell over a bin and came crashing down on the deck. A Gizka jumped on his chest and Bastila burst out in another gale of laughter.
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry. I must keep better control of myself."
Aerin and Zaalbar staggered to their feet as the rest of the crew came running. HK rushed in, his metal hands searching for a weapon. "Query: Is that miniscule meatbag threatening you, Master?"
Carth moved to help Aerin to her feet and the child recoiled in fear at the sight of so many people. Canderous in particular seemed to terrify her.
Aerin shook her head to clear it. "I'm glad I gave you such a good laugh, Bastila," she said with a bit of humility. Seeing the girl, her tone softened. "Everyone, please back out slowly. She's frightened."
The crew exited the room cautiously as Aerin looked up at the girl. The Padawan calmed herself with several deep breaths and beckoned to the girl in a soothing voice. She whispered over to Mission, whose face peered around the open door. "Mission, get me some food."
The Twi'lek seized a snack bar out of Griff's greedy hand and passed it to Aerin. Carefully, Aerin enticed the girl down from the crates and gave her the snack. The girl tore into the bar, munching and chomping. "She sounds like Zaalbar," Mission mused out loud.
The girl's blonde hair was long and unkempt and her clothes were tattered rags, soiled in oil and grit.
Aerin took a quick swig of Pinkie Pepsid to settle her stomach, which was churning with stress and then spoke to the girl quietly.
The child looked confused. "Mucha shaka paka," she said and then pointed to Canderous. "Manlorey," she added, hiding her face. The girl spoke no known form of language, but a bastardization of Mandalorian, Galactic Basic, and several other tongues. Aerin pursed her lips; her skill with languages was prodigious, but this would be a challenge.
Aerin waved Canderous away and then she, Bastila, and Mission sat with the girl, trading phrases. "Her name is Sasha and I'm sure she is the one that the Twi'lek was looking for on Dantooine," informed Aerin.
Bastila frowned. "We cannot care for a child on this dangerous quest. We must either get her back to Dantooine or find her a suitable home."
Mission shook her head and made a stern face. "Nobody is going to abandon this little girl. I'll care for her if necessary."
The girl, obviously tired, began to cry. A strange feeling tugged at Aerin's heart. The sensation was alien, but all too real. She picked the girl up and held her closely. As their breathing melded into one, Aerin could feel the little girl's heartbeat and some lost place in her soul was filled slightly. Sasha soon fell asleep and Aerin stroked her dirty hair.
"I don't understand, but she makes me feel…good. What does the Order think about motherhood?"
Bastila sighed and cross her arms. "I don't know about that, but I would think that comforting a child is a noble thing. Now, we should all get some rest."
Aerin carried Sasha back to the women's stateroom. She carefully washed the girl with water and a cloth and then put her in a bunk. Juhani was already uneasily asleep, tossing about in her upset over Belaya's death. As an afterthought, Aerin slid into bed with Sasha and the comforting feeling returned. She reflected for a moment on the past day and her head swam; so much had changed.
From being a minor player in the quest, she now bore the responsibility to lead it. Mission's brother had been rescued, which now created other issues and a group of Jawas had been returned to their leader, Iziz, who provided them a map to the Eastern Dune Sea. Finally, the presence of Calo Nord on Tatooine presented them with the possibility that the Sith might be enroute to the planet.
She stewed for a few minutes before sliding back out of bed. Donning a night robe, she walked out to the Engineering Section, her bare feet padding over the cold deck plates.
"Tee Three, please change the ion engine and hyperdrive signatures for the ship. Should we need to depart quickly, I don't want us to look like the Ebon Hawk."
"Wrrrr…beep."
"Good. Also, can you alter our manifest records in the Czerka database?"
Several green lights indicated an affirmative. Aerin sat on one of the engineering chairs after pouring herself a cup of day-old caffa. The dark-leather chair was comfortable, demonstrating Davik's luxurious tastes and it enveloped Aerin like a warm glove.
Unexpectedly, Carth entered the room. "Hey, what are you doing up?" he asked, walking over to the caffa brewer.
Aerin shrugged. "I've got a lot on my mind. Plus, I can't stand those dreams I've been having," she said, taking another sip of the stale, brown sludge.
Carth picked up the pot and swirled the caffa. He wrinkled his nose and poured the rest down the drain. "You're actually drinking that stuff? Here, I'm going to brew some more. I picked up some Dantooine blend before we left."
Bluntly, Aerin asked, "Carth, is this a suicide mission? I'm struggling with bringing all of these people with us. Not a single one of us can stand against Darth Malak…. What are we doing?"
Steam roiled out from the pot of hot caffa as Carth poured two mugs full. He added a little sweetener and came over to the engineering table to sit. He slid one mug to Aerin. "We're drinking caffa," he joked.
"No, I mean about the quest…."
Carth took a long drink, letting the liquid warm him. "Yes, I know. A leader needs the will to prevail. In battle, none of the men can know you're afraid or they will lose heart."
Aerin gave him a quizzical look. "But you, Carth, you're fearless."
"Bantha Poo, you don't think I wasn't scared out of my wits at the sandcrawler? I almost needed to change my drawers, but there, only I knew it."
The Padawan nodded. "The will to prevail…."
Tatooine
In the morning, they packed up the speeders and took Griff to the Czerka Office to resume his employment and his reunion with the Czerka official was less than joyous. Griff seemed hesitant to say goodbye, but when Mission told him of their intent to find a Krayt Dragon, he scurried off to work.
At the counter of the Czerka Office, a middle-aged Twi'lek woman seemed to be staring at Bastila. The young Jedi took notice and turned to face her. "May I help you, miss?" she asked impatiently.
The woman focused her eyes more closely. "Bastila? Bastila Shan?"
Bastila's face tightened with suspicion. "Who are you with?" The Jedi became defensive and began to look around for possible spies.
The woman continued, undeterred. "It is you…you must have gotten your mother's message. She is ill and has been searching for you. Do you not remember me? I am K'tila, your family's servant."
Bastila blinked several times and memories from long ago flooded her consciousness. It cannot be. How is this possible for her to have found me? This cannot be a coincidence. My mother, she is the last person I want to find me.
The Padawan stood, unmoving for some time until she stirred. She then cleared her head of other thoughts as the woman continued, "Your mother has been searching for you since your father was killed."
Bastila's face turned white. Her knees wobbled and Aerin and Mission came up to her.
"Are you all right?" they asked in unison.
The Twi'lek woman looked confused. "I…I thought you already knew. Come, we should go to the Cantina right away. I was here purchasing medicine for your mother."
"I don't know if I'm ready to see her. We did not part on the best of terms," informed Bastila, struggling to regain her composure.
Aerin thought for a moment before speaking, "It has been many years, things change. What could it hurt to see her?"
Bastila sighed. "We have an important matter to attend to. We cannot waste the time on this."
"It's not a waste," countered Mission. "I'd love to see my mother, but I'm sure she's dead. It's too late for me, but please don't lose this opportunity."
Bastila was about to protest again, when Aerin told her that they would need additional supplies anyway and that some of the crew would be busy gathering intelligence, which would take an hour or two. Reluctantly, Bastila agreed.
Together, they worked their way through town to the Cantina. In front of the infamous watering hole, an angry looking Duros stumbled into them. He looked in horror at Bastila and Aerin. "No, not some more human women. I have had enough of you for one day. Are all of you like the one in there? I would rather face a Krayt Dragon: its stare is far less intimidating."
Aerin gave him a quizzical look. "What are you talking about?"
He gesticulated wildly, pointing back at the Cantina. "I'm not going back in there, not while she's throwing her weight around. In your language, the name of Helena must be synonymous with 'Dragon Lady'."
Aerin was about to ask Bastila if that was her mother, but the auburn-haired Jedi anticipated her thoughts. Bastila's blood ran cold and she pushed her way past the frazzled Duros. Mission shrugged. "Sorry about that, it's her mother," she told the poor guy.
The alien rolled his large gray eyes. "Like mother, like daughter."
Bastila rushed through the dark Cantina, which was now quiet with the exception of the loud, shrill voice of a middle-aged woman.
"What do you mean, you have only Czerka currency? What kind of place is this? I expected some kind of competent service here, but I can see I'm going to be sadly disappointed," the angry voice sounded.
Bastila moved towards the sound of the voice ever so reluctantly and she looked as though she were inching forward to confront Darth Malak himself. The young Jedi turned the corner around the Cantina bar and the source of the scolding voice came into her view. The woman's dark brown hair was curled and cut closely to her head and she wore expensive finery that had long ago become worn and threadbare in the harsh Tatooine environment. Upon seeing the Jedi, the woman pointed at her.
"You there, are you the manager? I have a complaint."
Bastila gasped. It had been many years since she saw her mother, and the matriarch of the Shan family had not aged well. "Mother, do you not recognize me?"
Matriarch Shan narrowed her eyes, focusing on the young woman standing before her. "Oh, it's you. So, you finally made it. I had already concluded that you were ignoring me."
Bastila ruffled at the comment. Her Inner Child threatened to burst forth, but Aerin placed a supporting hand on her shoulder from behind.
The auburn-haired Jedi took a deep breath, allowing her lungs to fill with life-giving air. "I am here now, Mother. What is it that you want? K'tila here has told me that father was killed."
Helena scowled. "I see you still know how to greet your mother. I should have expected as much."
The Jedi rolled her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, "Yes, I see this is useless. Were you merely faking your illness to bring me here for your perverse satisfaction?"
Aerin and Mission subtly moved between the Jedi and her mother. Helena took notice of this and turned her scowl on them. "And who are you?" she asked as if this were an interrogation. Her eyes burned with the fiery intensity of a dragon.
"We are friends of Bastila's," announced Mission, trying to be positive.
"Matriarch Shan," added Aerin, "I know that you two have gotten off on a bad foot here, but I can tell you that Bastila rushed over as soon as we heard that you were in the Cantina. She is very concerned for you, although she hides it well."
Bastila froze for a moment and her face took on a pained expression. She bit her lower lip as she looked back and forth between her fellow Jedi and her mother.
Unexpectedly, Helena's expression became hopeful. Her face softened and her eyes glinted. Someone had to take the initiative to stop the ever-escalating situation. She apologized softly, causing Bastila to shake. Aerin and Mission both gave their friend a reassuring touch. Feeling their warmth, Bastila nodded. "I'm sorry too, Mother. That was very cruel of me."
As the tension began to ease, the group sat at one of the tables and K'tila ordered some food for those gathered there. Bastila was still guarded, but the chance meeting gave her the opportunity to find out some thing - things that had sat poorly with her for her entire adult life. "Mother, why…why did you send me away with the Jedi all those years ago? I was happy…I loved traveling with father…."
Helena looked away and sipped her drink. Her face blushed a furious shade of red. "Bastila…I…the life we had was no life for a young girl. A life full of danger and uncertainty…. When I learned you could use the Force, I notified the Jedi. They offered you a future…one away from harsh environments and fluctuating fortunes."
Helena continued by saying that her illness had manifested itself around that time and her ability to care for young Bastila had suffered. It was then, that they became locked in an endless cycle of having to treasure hunt merely to pay her medical bills.
Bastila's face turned ashen as unresolved emotions roiled within her soul. Sitting next to her, Aerin could feel every pang through the bond and her stomach churned. Bastila could not look at her mother, but spoke, "I…I had no idea, Mother. I was convinced that you hated me, that you were jealous of me."
Helena sighed and reached out her hand toward her daughter. "How could you know? We kept it from you, as you were so young. Now look at you, you are a full-fledged Jedi. I've even heard your name on the holonews."
Bastila gave a sardonic chuckle. "Yes, gifted hero of the Order…so I've been told."
Helena cut to the chase and put her palms on the table. "Bastila, I don't have much time. I'm dying. I need you to do something."
Old feelings came surging back like bile in her throat. Years of mistrust could not be undone in one, chance meeting. "Mother, I knew this was some kind of ploy. I am not your pawn."
Helena shrank back as a snail does when touched. She looked beseechingly to Aerin and Mission. "Would you treat your mother like this?"
The blue Twi'lek sighed and turned her face downward. "My mother is long dead."
"No, I would not," answered Aerin. "I'd at least hear what she had to say."
Bastila closed her eyes tightly for a moment. When she again looked at her mother, she nodded. "Very well, what can I do for you, Mother?"
Helena Shan told them of her husband's expedition into the Eastern Dune Sea to recover treasure hidden in the lair of a massive Krayt Dragon. He was killed there and his holocron was lost. It had recorded their lives together. "It would be all that I have left of him…all I have left of our lives," she said, her voice cracking with pain.
Bastila shot Aerin a quick glance and nodded; it would be there, that they could slay the dragon for a pearl. The auburn-haired Jedi then dug into a small purse and emptied it onto the table.
"Mother, this is all I have. Please, take it and go to Coruscant. Use it to pay for medical treatment. I must go now, but when I have completed my quest, I will find you. We can…we can speak again there. There are…many things I want to ask."
Helena thought for a moment before accepting the money. "I would like that, Bastila," she said. Then, pointing to Aerin and Mission, she added, "And you two, take good care of my daughter."
Both nodded enthusiastically.
As Helena Shan departed, Bastila grasped Aerin's arm. Her fingers dug into her partner until Aerin spoke, "You're hurting me."
Bastila removed her hand and shut her eyes, trying to block out the pulsating emotions. "I'm sorry…. Let's just go."
As they walked out to rejoin the others, a pair of interested eyes followed them.
"Now's my chance. Now, I'll be avenged," a short bounty hunter whispered to his many companions. Beneath his desert goggles a wild look was in his eyes.
Nord's obsession with evening the score drove him to near madness as he and his Rodian hunters piled into speeders. The hunt was on again.