The Exile crossed the floor, peering intently at the T-bar on Mandalore's helm. His stance revealed absolutely nothing as to his state of mind but she could sense the severity of the situation as it flowed forth in waves, "What is it?" she asked.

"The encampment on Dxun has been attacked." he said.

"What?!" she hissed, her eyes widening.

"I don't know anything else," he muttered, "Braelor barely got a message through…there was an explosion. I've left them alone for too long, they're vulnerable and a successful attack could wipe us all out. I have to go."

"I hope you don't think you're going into this alone," she said firmly, folding her arms.

"No, as a matter of fact," he replied, "Atton's firing the Hawk right now and the others are ready but the Selkath seem to think you both need a few more days…observation…"

"Observation, huh?" she snapped, "You don't seriously think that I'm going to sit here because of a few bruises do you?"

"Look Princess, I know you've got more than a few bruises but it's your call," he said, his tone subdued.

The Exile had never had an encounter with Mandalore that didn't involve friendly sniping back and forth. He was uncharacteristically quiet and brooding and her heart filled with sympathy. She reached forward, grasping him gently by the wrist; the concern reflected in her eyes, "I won't turn my back on you or your men, Canderous. If you go, I go."

He tilted his helm towards her respectfully, "Glad to hear it Jedi, we leave in ten minutes." And with that he withdrew and vanished into the hallway.

The Exile flew towards the closet, grabbing a small satchel and cramming in the barest of essentials for the trip. Hooking her lightsaber onto her belt she slammed the door and turned towards Bao Dur, "It might take a few days to get word to you, I don't know what's waiting for us on Dxun but I promise that as soon as I can I'll let you know what's going on."

She caught Bao's expression full on, his face was blazing with intensity, as his jaw clenched.

"What is it?" she asked, confused.

"You are…very kind to him," he said softly.

She crossed the floor to where he stood, gazing into his dark eyes, "I thought you had made peace with your anger towards Canderous?"

Taking a deep breath, his expression softened, "I have for the most part," he explained, "I can't deny how valuable he's been in our travels and he's been loyal to you…but I can't seem to let it go completely. It's the stories, the swagger…it just makes me angry all over again sometimes."

"Might I make a suggestion?" she asked gently.

"Always," he replied warmly.

"I have found that the key with Canderous is to focus less on what comes out of his mouth and more on what he does." she said, "I know it sounds simplistic but for every harsh word there is a kind action to negate it. When you feel he is goading you towards anger just remember how much he has risked and how he has defended us."

Bao Dur was silent, pensive for a moment. "You care for him…don't you?" he asked.

"Yes I do," she replied, "Very much."

Catching the flinty spark in Bao's eye she continued, "But not like that. He's more like a big, grumpy overbearing father figure. He growls and snipes at me, he even calls me 'little girl' sometimes but whenever I've been in real trouble he's been there. He's risked everything to protect me…did you know that he saved my life on Malachor?"

Bao Dur's eyes flickered with surprise. "No…" he replied, "I had no idea…"

"He did." she continued, "On Malachor he was the only one who wasn't incapacitated, tending to the wounded or getting ready for take off. He cloaked himself and followed me right into the core of the academy. I should have died there but he pulled me out and kept me alive until he could get me to Mical. The thing is, he didn't even have to be there. He could have easily left us and gone back to his men but he stayed. He's a good man Bao, you must sense it."

"I am sorry General…" he murmured, "…I didn't know. But that will certainly help me put things in perspective. Perhaps when we have time you could meditate with me?"

"Anytime," she said, smiling warmly, "But now I have to head to the Hawk, take it easy for the next few days and I will let you know where you can meet us."

Bao paused as confusion flitted across his features, "Wait…" he said softly, "I'm not staying here, I'm coming with you."

"But you can't!" she exclaimed, "Your skin…"

"…is fine," he interrupted, "I won't stay here."

The Exile paused and eyed him appraisingly. His tone was mild once again but she could see the intensity, barely restrained that burned in his dark eyes. She knew that leaving him behind would be no easy task. "Let me see your arm…" she said.

He moved forward, rolling up his sleeve and held out his good arm to her. She placed her left hand under his elbow and pulled him towards her, tucking his forearm under her own and peering intently at the grafts. She ran her fingertips over the areas where new and old flesh joined, applying reasonable pressure but nothing moved. Noticing the heat of his hand near her waist she raised her eyes to his. He was so close to her, his head angled down towards her that she found it difficult to breathe. He was gazing at her with a peculiar expression that made the heat in her belly flare. It occurred to her that she may have accidentally overstepped the limit of conventional behavior for Zabraks. Was it acceptable for a female to just grab and examine a male in such a manner? What if being touched by a human was considered somehow vile or unacceptable? She flushed and gently released his arm, "You look good to me, but I want Mical to have the final say before we fly." she muttered.

He smiled warmly at her, "Agreed," he replied, and the rich timbre of his voice made her shiver. "But I need to stop by my room for a moment. I'm not exactly properly dressed." Standing back he turned his palms towards her. He was clad in only a large linen tunic and equally baggy black pants that seemed to cling in all the right places and fall away in others. She found herself staring at the chiseled strength of his legs and shook her head slightly, forcing her thoughts back to the situation at hand.

"Alright," she replied, "We'll grab your things and go, you can change on the ship."

The Ebon Hawk was a hive of activity when they arrived and the crew shouted a variety of whoops and greetings as they loaded supplies, checked armor and gathered weapons. The Exile smiled at them all warmly, it was like being thrust back into the heart of her family once more and she had missed them all. Heading into the Hawk, they aimed for the Med Bay where Mical was busily restocking the stim compartment.

"Room for two more?" she asked, grinning at his back.

Mical jumped to his feet, turning towards her with an expression of pure joy, "Master!" he cried, "And Bao Dur! Will you be joining us?"

"Perhaps," she said, chuckling at his exuberance, "I want you to clear Bao before we leave however."

"As you wish," he replied, "Might I ask if you would be willing to submit to an examination as well?"

"You certainly can ask," she replied smiling broadly as she headed back towards the hall.

He laughed at her retreating frame, "Alright," he called, "But if you are unable to tie your hair up and touch your toes you don't get to fight. On that point I must insist."

"You've got a deal," she laughed, continuing down the hall towards the Starboard Dorm.

Once inside, she dropped her satchel on a nearby bunk and retrieved a hairbrush. She paused and took a moment to centre herself, slowly raising her arms towards her head. She managed to get nearly parallel to the floor when pain shot through her muscles and the brush clattered to the floor.

"Can I help?" came a soft voice from the doorway.

She turned to see Bao smiling warmly at her, his powerful arms folded over his broad chest as he watched. "I need to keep trying if I'm going to fight tomorrow," she explained, "But you're welcome to watch, I assume you've been cleared?"

"Yes," he replied, "I'm fine but actually I was hoping that we could talk."

"Of course," she said, "Come in and pull up a footlocker."

As they got settled, they felt the Hawk engage pulling them towards open space and whatever awaited them on Dxun. "I need to apologize to you," he said.

"Apologize to me?" she queried, the confusion evident on her face.

"I've failed you immeasurably," he murmured, "I couldn't help you on Malachor…I couldn't save you. I'm…sorry."

He was so earnest in his intent, his features so filled with regret and undercurrents of pain that her heart seared and her eyes burned. She reached forward, taking his hands in her own and gazing into the lush, dark depths of his eyes, "Bao…" she whispered, choking on her own emotion, "You don't need to apologize to me, you nearly died…if you hadn't had the foresight to program your remote we would have all perished on Malachor. You didn't fail me, you saved us all."

She paused for a moment, feeling a selfish sort of regret for what she was about to ask. She had gotten used to having Bao on equal footing with her and felt a pang of loss when she considered their relationship changing to one of Master and Padawan. She took a moment to banish such thoughts and continued, "I've been thinking about this for a while...you're undeniably talented and it would be an honor for me to take you as Padawan…would you...could you consider it?"

He paused, took a deep breath and squeezed her fingertips gently.

"No…"