Author's Notes: Here's another one. Lately I've been having a hard time keeping up with this story, so if any of you reading-and reviewing!-this story would kindly hit me in the face with a shovel, it would be very much appreciated. Disclaimer: This chapter features obscene amounts of technobabble.

Chapter Four

Bastila was apprehensive concerning the notion of bringing a man of such…questionable values…on their journey, but even she had to admit that they needed a pilot of his skill. Atton had annoyed her, to be sure, but at least he wasn't a thug. She was afraid that this Elliott character was exactly that. Deep down, however, she was willing to tolerate him as long as it meant she'd have the opportunity to find Revan. This was, now more than ever, the driving force behind her mission. Everything else seemed to melt into the background. This fact, however, was of no comfort to her.

She lay in her bed that night, completely awake. No form of rest deigned to accompany her as she stared nervously at the ceiling. Beads of sweat were running down her forehead, and she was so overcome with the temperature of the room that she had thrown all of the sheets and blankets off of her mattress. It was another of these nights. Every once in a while, the young woman would be confronted by the sheer impossibility of her situation. She felt so much pressure and so much anxiety that she did not think she could handle it anymore. When this happened, she did the only thing she could do. She would lay, arms and legs spread out, on top of her bed and stare at the ceiling. Her heart thumped inside her chest, and she felt she moved physically every time it beat. I am living a lie, she thought to herself.

Ever since Revan had departed, almost five years ago, she had struggled with this reality. She had violated the Jedi Code by falling for him, something no one knew but Revan himself. She had embraced the dark side before that, a turn of events of which few were aware. When she used her Battle Meditation against the Republic most assumed it was because Malak had captured her and was forcing her to use it under threat of torture. Only Revan, Carth, Canderous, and maybe Mission and Zaalbar knew what had really happened—that she had willingly fallen. The droids did not comprehend it, and Jolee and Juhani were dead—killed in the purge. In spite of all of this, she returned to the Order and tried to resume her life as a Jedi. But she knew she was only paying lip service. The one thing she had believed in her whole life, the Jedi Code, now hung over her head. Its recitation at every waking moment only served to increase her misery. She was a hypocrite, a liar, and a betrayer. Or at least, she told herself she was. The Code flaunted her failings in front of her every waking hour. The day she was promoted to Knighthood was the second-worst day of her life. For a while, the only thing sustaining her was Revan. He had supported her in spite of her shortcomings, and he loved her anyway. When he left, she was completely and utterly alone. Isolated within the Jedi Order, a self-described sinner amidst a sea of adoring acquaintances. It was hell. And what was worse was that Revan did not tell her he was leaving. One day, he was just gone. After the battle at the Star Forge, they had returned to Coruscant as heroes, Jedi. She had nervously watched as more and more of the old Revan resurfaced, darkening the demeanor of the man she loved. The last day she saw him, he told her of some sort of ambiguous thing he had to do, and that the "time wasn't right", or something like that. She was so emotional that day she couldn't recall with certainty what he had said. All she knew was that the next day he left. No goodbye, no message, nothing. That was the worst day of her life. He just vanished. Slowly, even their bond was fading. Connection was difficult over such a great distance, and she could no longer feel what he felt—at least not like she had been able to when they were together. She needed him back, the one person she could confide in, trust, and love—or else she would continue in this state of limbo for the rest of her life.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, her breathing labored as she turned all of these thoughts over in her mind. She glanced over to the clock near her bed; it read 4:48 in the morning. She had not slept one wink. She finally admitted to herself that any attempt at rest was hopeless, so she got up. She took a shower, donned her usual garb, and then exited the room, anticipating being the only person awake at the hour. As she stepped outside, however, she picked up hushed voices on the threshold of hearing. Curiosity piqued inside of her, and she pushed her body against the wall, sidling down the dimly lit hallway until she could more clearly make out the voices. She paused at a corner, and listened to two men discussing apparently urgent matters. She recognized the voices well.

"You picked a hell of a time to tell me," said the first in a subdued, breathy voice. In spite of the quiet tone, the accent was unmistakable. "First Atton, and now you."

"I'm sorry, Nantaris," said Carth's gruff, but not altogether unpleasant voice.

Nantaris continued, not letting him finish his apology, said, "You realize that all of your financial backers had assumed that you were in charge of this mission? How am I going to explain it to them when they find out you're not going?" Carth tried to say something, but did not succeed. "I mean…hell. You and I both know it's not that important, Bastila and Caius can handle themselves. But there needed to be a stable figurehead for this mission. You're famous, Carth, and you've got experience. And most of all, you're not a Jedi. They don't trust us, they do trust you." Nantaris breathed audibly out of his nose. "Well, I suppose there's nothing we can do. I doubt it will make a difference in the long run…but Republic officials can be so finicky. They upgraded the Hawk for you, not for Atton. All I'm saying is…they won't be happy."

"I know it might complicate things, but I've thought about it and I know that I'd do much more good if I stayed behind," the Admiral answered.

"I don't doubt your reasons, Carth," Nantaris said, "I just wished you'd not…sprung this on me so suddenly."

"It kind of…sprung up on me too, to be honest."

There was a little hesitation on Nantaris's part before he spoke again. He said, "Very well. If you'll excuse me, I have some things to do." Bastila couldn't tell if he was irritated or not, any hint of annoyance in his voice was masked by that accent.

Carth stopped him, however, and added, "Nantaris…don't tell Bastila yet. I'll tell her, but I want to explain why I'm not going—I think she'll understand."

Bastila wasn't sure she would; although she did not move, this revelation hit her hard. She had come to rely on Carth. They had been working together for years. Ever since that fateful encounter on Taris, they had been partners in keeping the Republic afloat. Why would he choose to leave them now? Was he afraid of what they would find in the unknown regions? Nantaris agreed with Carth and then turned to leave. He rounded the corner, leaving Carth behind, and nearly bumped into Bastila as she stood still against the wall. He veiled his surprise well, if he was surprised at all. Perhaps he had always known she was there, for one so strong in the Force as he, it certainly was possible. She looked up at him, but in the darkness could only see his green eyes gleam, emphasized by the moonlight. His head nodded slightly and then he continued on his way.

His nod jerked Bastila out of her shock, and as she heard Carth's footsteps she hurried back to the opening of her room, treading lightly so as to avoid making noise. She had just made it to the front of her door when Carth rounded the corner and spotted her. His exclamation was not a shout, but in the quiet hours of the morning it sounded like one. "Bastila!" his voice rose in surprise.

"Oh…good morning, Carth," she stumbled. She tried to make it look like she was just coming out of her room, but considering she was facing the wrong way it was a hard sell.

The Admiral didn't buy it, asked, "Did you overhear our conversation?"

The grizzled man came closer and Bastila sheepishly turned around to face his silhouette in the dark hall. "What?" she asked, "No." Her voice stumbled slightly and then it gained resolve, said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You always were a terrible liar," Carth said somewhat jovially. "I can barely see your face and I can still read you." He exhaled deeply, "So you heard what I said?" The last comment was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes…" Bastila admitted. "I don't want to argue about it, so I'll let you go first. Why are you making this decision?"

Carth stood straighter as he prepared to tell her. He had it all planned out, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his outline faded from memory. "Bastila…you and I have been working together on this for years. You know I want to find Revan as much as you do…" Bastila disagreed with this. Yeah right, she thought bitterly. But she regained her focus to listen her old friend. He kept on, "It's been five…or six years…since he left. I can't even remember. But the simple fact of the matter is this, Bastila: I'm getting old." His shoulders slumped as he said this.

Bastila was surprised, said lamely, "Nonsense!"

"No, it's true. I admit it; my hair is graying—perhaps prematurely, perhaps not. But there it is. I am afraid I may only serve as a liability. I can no longer hold my own in a fight."

Bastila challenged him on it, said, "I find it hard to believe that's the only reason. I didn't think age would stand in between you and finding Revan again."

"Damn," Carth said, his personable nature returning. "I should've known I couldn't fool a Jedi that easily. You're right, it's more than just age. The Republic…" he shifted tones to discuss the matter of such grave political importance, "the Republic is fragile right now. As is the military. Frankly, we can't afford to have an Admiral gallivanting about the Unknown Regions. The decision…is not really up to me. I have those who depend on me. I can't just abandon my post for some sort of personal quest. It's just…not possible. Age only helped me realize this."

"You make it sound like our quest is a wild goose chase," she stated.

"No, no," Carth said quickly, rather offended. "I believe in Caius and Nantaris. I think…I know Revan is out there. And I think he needs help."

I wish I could say the same, Bastila thought. "So…what is your plan then? And why was Nantaris so upset?"

"Nantaris thought I would be a sort of figurehead for this mission. We all have our financial backers, and a good amount of them donated on my behalf, apparently. So he's got to figure out a way to keep their money. As for my plan…it's a work in progress."

Slowly, the impact of the situation was donning on Bastila. For more than five years Carth had been there. He was always stable, like an oak in a storm. She felt she could confide anything in him, but even then she hadn't told him about her feelings for Revan. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. But she wasn't confident enough to tell him about it. As she came back to reality, she found herself staring up into the dark eyes of the Admiral. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and she could see him more accurately now. He still had that absurd stubble on his chin, but she could see the compassion in him. He really trusted her—a huge achievement on her part—and she trusted him. So then this situation was suddenly more powerful. She realized that a while had passed in silence and she said, "I'm sorry…I mean…I wish you were coming. I'm…saddened that you're not joining us. I'd hoped you could see this through to the end." What she didn't want to say was that she was nervous about going off into the Unknown Regions with a bunch of people she didn't know.

Carth laughed a little, though it seemed he was just trying to lighten the mood. "Formal as always," he said.

"What? No…" Bastila said, somewhat upset, "I just mean that… I'm so used to you being there. What…who am I going to depend on?"

"Just because I'm not going to be physically present doesn't mean I'm going to be uninvolved. I'm still going to have a hand in this. It's just…my place is behind the desk now, Bastila."

"I…I see," she said solemnly. She wasn't very good at showing her emotions, but she was truly saddened that Carth was declining to come. After the crew of the Ebon Hawk had dispersed after that final battle, she felt as though the war veteran was her only true friend left. "So…what do you mean you'll still be involved?"

"I want to be updated every couple of days via the Hawk's communicator. The Republic has an interest in the developments of this quest, and I've basically been pigeonholed into position." He took a deep breath and then continued, "There is one other thing…I hope it isn't too much to ask."

"No, of course not, Carth. Anything," Bastila responded. Her voice was now more emotional than it had been a few moments before. For her to get choked up was incredibly unusual, and it spoke volumes to how much she actually cared for her friend.

"Thank you," he said. "I…I want Dustil to go with you." His voice was filled with hesitation, "I know it's going to be dangerous. But he really wants to go, and I feel that it's only natural that I'd step down and allow my son to take my place." He stopped, but then felt compelled to add on a disclaimer at the end, "If it's all right with you, of course."

"It'll be fine, Carth. I'd greatly appreciate Dustil coming. I haven't seen him since…Korriban."

"Thanks, Bastila," he said, now his voice getting emotional as well. In a surprising gesture, he put one hand on each of Bastila's arms and brought her closer to him. He spoke in a whisper, "Just…do one thing for me. Please keep him safe. Please…"

Bastila swallowed, looked up into Carth's dark face, said, "I will…do my absolute best to watch over him." However, the notion frightened her a little bit. Last time she had been charged with protecting someone she had fallen in love with him, fallen to the dark side, and then been rescued by the very person she was intended to defend. Of course she didn't say this. Carth nodded and then let go of her. He turned to leave, and Bastila said after him, "Thank you, Carth…for everything you've done for us…for me."

He stopped and glanced back at her. "I've only ever done what was asked of me. My duty. But…you're welcome." He nodded to her again, and then turned abruptly and strode away.

Just as he'd agreed, Elliott Gallenti arrived at the Jedi Temple at noon that day. Bastila and Carth had already departed, and the droids had gone to wait at the Ebon Hawk. Only Caius and Atton met Elliott there. Their intention was to escort the man to the ship so he could get a look at it. Bastila said something about hoping to crack the navicomputer with some hacker, and Carth…they had no idea what he was up to.

The three men strolled casually through the crowded streets on the way to the landing pads closest to the Temple. The sky was clear, and the heat of the sun beat down on their heads and shoulders, cooking the men under their clothes. Elliott didn't pay it any mind, he was too excited about their previous meeting. Most of their walk to the docks centered around his relation of the same events over and over again.

"Hell of a night last night, wasn't it?" he said proudly. He laughed, "I love it when there's a scuffle at that club. It's the spice of life."

Caius was rather perturbed, said, "You realize we could've died, right? I wouldn't say that was great."

Elliott snorted, "You Jedi. You're all the same. There's no regret in killing someone who took a shot at you first. Why do you even care?"

"Because…" Caius said, "our lives are fragile. Oh, and I'm not a Jedi. Stop calling me that."

"So you've said. I still find it hard to believe."

They continued walking, Caius said, "Maybe I'll explain it to you later."

"Why not explain it now?" Elliott ordered.

"Fine," Caius said angrily, "I was a Jedi but I was expelled from the Order. Happy?"

"How the hell were you kicked out of the Jedi?"

"I don't especially want to talk about it right now," Caius said sharply.

"Sounds like a crazy story," Elliott said. Undaunted, he went back to the previous night's fight. He bounced on his feet and threw pretend punches, loosely imitating a boxer. He laughed again, said, "Oh man, if you could've seen yourself. That was a hell of a punch you threw, and then impaled that guy. Man, it's been a while since I've seen something like that."

Atton responded this time, asked, "You always get this much enjoyment out of near-death experiences?"

"When you've had as many of them as I have, you learn to take them lightly. It's the only way to keep from going mad."

Caius couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He said, "Hmm, I'm not sure I like the fact that you've been in so many near-death experiences and now you're our pilot."

"Hey," Elliott said, clearly offended, "if I weren't such a great pilot, they wouldn't be near-death experiences, now would they?" He stopped, anticipating a response, but got none. "Well," he continued, "I can tell this is going to be a boring trip if I'm going to have to be around two tight asses like you guys the whole time."

Atton was upset, said, "What the hell is your problem? If you think we're uptight, just wait until you meet Bastila. She's the definition of the word tight ass…in more ways than one." A sly smile curled around his lips as he finished the statement. The comment elicited a furious laugh from Elliott, who was clearly pleased.

"Maybe you're not so bad," he said to Atton. "I think we'll get along just fine."

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble," Atton said, "but I'm not going. That's why we hired you in the first place, remember?"

"Damn, so you're just going to leave me with Chancellor Grim here?" Elliott asked, gesturing towards Caius. "This sucks." He sighed, "At least I'm getting paid."

Caius didn't even bother responding, it wasn't worth it. The group continued on towards the docks, the inane discussion growing more and more useless as they went on. Elliott, he thought, was clearly a person of surface-deep interests. He was the very definition of a superficial man. The walk dragged on, and Caius was deeply relieved when they arrived at the docks. The port authority checked their IDs and then granted them entrance. On the way to the Hawk they ran into Bastila.

"Good afternoon, Bastila," Caius said. Atton greeted her as well, though it wasn't sincere. Elliott's greeting, however, was far more unorthodox.

"Hey," he said rather suggestively, "damn, you're easy on the eyes." Bastila bit her lower lip and craned her neck. Elliott turned and looked to Atton, said rather loudly, "You weren't kidding." Atton's face actually tinged with slight embarrassment, something Caius found unusual and disconcerting. Bastila's face reddened as well, although her pigment was one of irritation and disgust.

"I take it you're Elliott," she said flatly.

"That I am," he responded. "Clearly you've done your research. I'm flattered you'd take such an interest in me, you can be assured the feeling is mutual."

Bastila's shoulders sunk and she sighed in disgust. Quickly, she turned to head back towards the Hawk and away from Elliott.

"Don't get any bright ideas," Atton said. "She's a real Jedi. You won't get anywhere."

Bastila overheard the comment as she walked away, and couldn't help but feel a pang of tremendous guilt. Once again she felt as though she were living the lie. Everyone thought she was the poster-child of the Jedi Order. Her failures again began to eat away at her again. She was glad she was looking away from them, for her tortured expression might have given something away. Her forehead began to perspire, partly because of the heat but mostly due to shame.

"Damn it!" Elliott said. "Damn those Jedi and their idiotic code. Why does this kind of crap always happen? Why are you two the imposter Jedi? Why can't the ridiculously sexy woman be a normal person? This is just my luck."

"Oh save it," Atton said. "Even if she weren't a Jedi, she still wouldn't be interested in you."

"Ouch," Elliott said, "there's no way I deserved that."

"Uh, sorry," Atton responded, "I didn't exactly mean it that way. You'll see for yourself later, she's colder than Hoth."

"Ah, hard to get," the mercenary mused delightedly, "this is going to be fun."

"Are you two through?" Caius said impatiently, letting the hammer fall.

"Yes, sir," Elliott said sarcastically.

Caius frowned, "Good. Now let's get to the ship before I kill both of you."

"Wow," Atton responded, "I don't think I've seen you react to something that strongly in a while." He jogged closer to Caius, hoping to have a real conversation. "You're really protective of Bastila aren't you?"

Caius tilted his head, thought for a moment. He hadn't really thought of it like that before, "Yeah," he said, "I guess I am."

"You were like that with Mira too. Is there some sort of chivalrous soul in you? I don't think you need to worry about any of the young women around, they can handle themselves. No need to be a father for them," Atton said in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

"More Jedi secrets," Elliott said from several yards away, "care to include us normal people in your conversation?"

"No," Caius answered gruffly. "Come on, let's go to the ship. You'll have to see your noble steed before we leave."

The group then resumed their walk. The friction between Caius and Elliott was palpable, and Atton felt it spilling all over him. They strode quickly through the docking complex, trying to make their way towards the very far end of the landing pads. The Hawk was stationed at the farthest possible end of the complex. It then dawned on Caius that this would be the first time he would see the ship since she'd been repaired. Ever since Peragus, the freighter had been in a state of disrepair. He realized he was very eager to see it at its peak. The ship had become famous for a reason, now he would see what it was meant to be like. The notion somewhat excited him. Atton had the same epiphany. Only Elliott remained in the dark as to what ship he was going to pilot. However, once he set his eyes on it, he was enamored. "Here we are," Caius said as they entered the Hawk's docking bay.

"Holy hell," Elliott said, "this is your ship?" His mouth almost dropped, he continued, "that's the best damn looking freighter I've ever seen. This is going to be incredible."

Caius and Atton were also surprised. Atton spoke first, said, "Wow, I didn't think they could make her look this good. It's almost enough to draw me out of retirement."

"Almost?" Caius asked.

"Well… not quite," came his response.

Bastila and Carth were standing near the ship's loading ramp, and the Admiral was discussing something or other with another port official. A younger man was with them. He looked up as soon as he saw the group enter the area and then jogged up close to them.

"Are you Caius Lucullus?" he asked in a very youthful voice.

Caius looked at the man carefully. He seemed to be the spitting image of Carth. At least, he would be the spitting image of a Carth who was twenty years younger and knew how to operate a razor. "I am," Caius answered. "And you are…?"

"I'm Dustil," the young man said, "Dustil Onasi. Carth is my father," he gestured towards the Admiral. "I can't wait to go with you all on this excursion, it's going to be exciting. I haven't gotten to do anything for months."

Caius was slack jawed, though he tried admirably to hide it. "You…are?"

Dustil was somewhat confused, but Bastila hurried to his rescue. She said, "Dustil's going to come with us. Carth has informed me that he will be unable to come, so Dustil is coming in his stead. I've already promised him a spot."

"All right," Caius said. "Do you have our final roster set, then?"

"Yes, I believe I've got it all ready," she said. "Would you like to hear it?"

Atton intruded in the conversation, said, "He asked, didn't he?"

Bastila scowled. She looked away from Atton, half-expecting some sort of response from Elliott, but she quickly observed that he was staring at her chest. She crossed her arms angrily and the mercenary's black/brown eyes suddenly jerked out of their stupor and met her steel ones. He grinned boyishly and she rolled her eyes. She took a step towards Caius, grabbed him by the arm, and stormed away from the group with him in tow.

"Hmm, you're right," Elliott said to Atton. "She is cold."

"You're going to have a hell of a time," he responded. Dustil just looked at both of them quizzically.

Once Caius and Bastila were out of hearing range, she turned him towards him. She was exasperated, said, "I don't think I can handle being around those two."

"Well…" Caius said hesitantly, "you won't have to deal with Atton for much longer. And," he shifted his mouth crookedly before continuing, "as for Elliott. Have you considered…wearing something other than what you are now?"

She looked at him rather oddly, her eyes betraying a surprising amount of befuddlement.

Caius swallowed, said as kindly as he could, "It doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Bastila seemed genuinely shocked, she stuttered, "Well I…I mean…I didn't think it was a problem." She seemed horribly self-conscious. It clearly hadn't occurred to her before, and now wearing her usual tan, formfitting robe for such a long time retroactively embarrassed her. "Is it…is it that bad?" she asked innocently. The notion that it was scared her—she was now afraid that everyone else thought she was engaging in some form of advertising.

Caius merely responded by nodding his head.

"Well!" she said angrily, "I guess all these men are just children in adult bodies. I'd think they could handle their base emotions better than this!"

"You over-estimate us," Caius said flatly. "But really, you can't blame them, can you?"

She frowned, said in an irritated whisper, "No, I guess I can't." She gulped, now looking very frazzled and embarrassed, as though she had just noticed for the first time how exposed she was. "Why didn't anyone tell me this before? Is it some kind of joke? Oh no…I must have been a laughing stock!" She was about to continue her rant, but caught herself. She closed her mouth and began going through the code again, the one that tortured her so. "All right," she said coolly, "thank you for your honesty. Now, where were we?"

"You wanted to tell me about the roster," Caius said helpfully.

"Right, yes, that." She cleared her throat and tried to regain her composure. "Well, now that we know both Atton and Carth won't be coming, that narrows the crew considerably. There should be, all told, seven crewmembers."

"Seven?" Caius asked. "I don't remember, could you name everyone?"

She began counting on her slender fingers, "There's me, you, the two droids, Elliott, Dustil, and…one more who I want to come with us."

"And who is that?"

"An older Jedi by the name of Xristos Karianis. I bumped into him yesterday, and after talking to him for a while I decided…I want him to come."

"Oh, him? I talked to him yesterday too. It was…interesting. But he seems like a good man. Are you sure of all of these then?"

"Yes," Bastila answered firmly, "this is the final set."

As if to punctuate their conversation ending, Dustil suddenly appeared in their vicinity. "Bastila," he said, "that hacker you wanted is here. She says she wants to get to work on the navicomputer immediately."

Bastila expressed her satisfaction and both she and Dustil headed off to meet the slicer. Atton and Elliott approached him from the side as he stood still. Atton spoke as they neared, said, "Well, I suppose we should give Elliott the grand tour."

"Nope, there's no way this is going to get decrypted," said the hacker, a woman by the name of Allesandra Marlowe. She stood up from her kneeling position in front of the computer in the control room of the Ebon Hawk. Bastila, standing next to her, grunted in displeasure. The woman continued, "It's not even a matter of breaking the encryption. Whoever locked this really really didn't want it be opened again—ever. There's covering your tracks, there's sabotaging something to the point that it can never be recovered, there's paranoid obsession with secrecy, and then…there's this." She slapped her hands together and then put them in the pockets of her blue overalls. "Sorry, but there's nothing even I can do with this, and I'm the best slicer in the core."

"Well, that's just splendid," Bastila said dryly, "now what am I going to do?"

Allesandra wasn't sure if the question was asked of her or not, so she shrugged and said, "I don't know. Mind explaining the situation?"

Bastila didn't want to divulge any details, but then she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to keep hidden anyway, so she decided to explain the basics of the problem. "We're looking for someone," she said, "the previous owner of this ship. He left…for somewhere, and we're trying to find him. If we could access the navicomputer, we could figure out where he was last. But we don't even know who locked it, though we're guessing it was him."

"Who are you looking for?" Allesandra asked innocently.

"A Jedi," Bastila said in the most vague terms possible.

"I guess I should've known. It's weird, I haven't seen a Jedi in years, and suddenly there's a fistful of you right here and you're looking for another one."

"Are you sure there's nothing you can do anything to break this?" Bastila asked vainly, trying to change the subject.

"I told you, there's nothing—at least right now. But if you really want my help, then you're going to have to tell me everything about your little mission. No leaving out any details, there may be something I can do."

Bastila resigned to telling the woman the whole story. She told her about Revan, about his journey into the unknown regions, and about T3. It took several minutes to relate all of the events, and Allesandra listened to all of it patiently. Bastila could tell it interested her. Generally, the romantic fables surrounding Jedi are just that: fables. But this story definitely piqued the curiosity of the hacker—it was a real life version of an adventure story.

After it was all said and done, the woman spoke: "Well, I suppose that you could just fly to Malachor V and look for traces of any hyperspace wakes in the area. Even five years ago, if that place is what you make it out to be, there wouldn't be any other leads in the area aside from when this ship was there. It's like leaving a footprint in a vacuum. But…that would just point you in whatever direction you needed to go—it wouldn't tell you when to stop. You might just go flying into a star or something if you followed one."

"Well…thanks for that," Bastila said insincerely.

"Excuse me," Allesandra said defiantly, "I'm trying to help you. No wonder so many people don't like Jedi—they give bad first impressions."

Bastila bit her tongue, said at length, "I'm sorry…is there anything else?"

"Well," the woman continued, "since it's voice-locked, that means breaking the encryption is dependent upon an external stimulus. If you could find something that might qualify as that, I could rig it so that it might circumvent the voice-lock. It's a long shot, but that's the only real chance there is. There's a catch, though. I'd have to be there to do it."

"What sort of stimulus?" Bastila asked.

"It could be any number of things: coordinates of the right area, some sort of map, an audio recording of the person who locked it. You just need to find the right puzzle piece."

Bastila mulled over her words. She'd have to redirect their search for Revan to the more immediate goal of finding some sort of thing to break the voice-encryption on the computer. If they were able to find that, then they'd have to come back to Coruscant and track down this Allesandra again. Unless…

"I guess you'd have to come with us," Bastila suggested.

Allesandra startled with surprise, "You mean…to the Unknown Regions?"

Before they could continue their conversation, Atton's voice echoed throughout the ship. It came from out the control room and to the left, saying, "And down this hall is the cockpit." Three pairs of shuffling footsteps approaching the control room followed his declaration.

Immediately afterwards, Elliott asked, "What's in this door?"

"That's the control room," Atton answered.

As soon as he finished, Elliott strolled into the doorway to look around, he jerked his head backwards as soon as he saw that Bastila and Allesandra were in there. He cocked his head in a strange manner and said, "Hey look, another one."

Allesandra tilted her head quizzically as Elliott let his eyes scan her. In spite of the unflattering work clothes she was wearing, he still noted how her youthful face radiated—even with all the dust and dirt on it. She wasn't the most beautiful woman, to be sure; Bastila had her beat on every count. The sole exception was the youthful exuberance that shone through her face—she had a sort of infectious, charismatic demeanor. She did have an attractive quality in that regard. Atton and Caius then fell in line behind Elliott, and they all looked at the new visitor. She had shoulder length, wavy brown hair that matched the light color of her eyes. She had a smooth, slender nose above an innocently normal mouth. When she noticed everyone was looking at her, she instinctively blushed and stepped backwards. Bastila interceded and took a step forward, said, "This is Allesandra Marlowe, she's the hacker trying to decode the navicomputer."

"Call me Allie," she said, and walked back into the middle of the room, next to Bastila.

Elliott flinched as Atton slapped him on the back of the head and then steered him off towards the cockpit. Caius was left standing in the doorway by himself, so said, "Nice to meet you Allie, I'm Caius."

Allie smiled in response, and after a few seconds of nothing, Caius just smirked to himself in confusion and then walked off after Elliott and Atton.

"Are they going, too?" Allie asked Bastila.

"Two of them."

"Let me guess: the nice one's staying behind."

"Caius? No, he's going. He's really the glue holding this project together, though I doubt he knows it. Atton, the one in the brown robes, he's staying behind."

"Oh," Allie said amiably. She then returned to the previous conversation, "So, going with you guys…I'll think about it. I'm sure I'll be paid nicely?"

"I'm sure…" she sighed, "I'll talk to Nantaris about it."

"Don't worry," Allie assured her, "I won't ask for that much. But I gotta eat, right?"

"Of course," Bastila responded. "Come on, let's go figure this out. I think we have room if you really want to come. But you'll only need stay until you can fix this blasted computer, you could take off after that."

"Right, that's the plan," Allie said jovially.

It took three days, but the details were finally ironed out. Vrook eventually found out about the excursion, and he did not take it very well. His reaction showed how perceptive the man was, however, as he had basically guessed the whole situation would transpire in the fashion it did before it really happened. Regardless of his contrary behavior, the man was the quintessential Jedi in terms of sagacity. No one ends up a Master by fluke.

The crew was set in stone. Bastila was the de facto leader of the expedition. Despite the fact that Caius had presented the information and gathered up most of the crewmembers, there was no way Vrook was allowing the man control over anything. He was an outcast, gray Jedi who, Vrook thought, did not care who he stepped on to get his way. His allegiance is not to be trusted. The others representing the Order were Dustil (who was functioning as a go-between for the Jedi and for the Republic Navy) and Xristos (chosen mostly due to his healing abilities and Force sensitivity). Naturally, the two droids would join them. The pilot would be, of course, the incorrigible Elliott Gallenti. Lastly, Allie Marlowe hesitantly signed on in order to break through the navicomputer's defenses as soon as possible. Where she would go after that, no one knew.

She would not be the only deserter, as Atton was leaving as well. Caius talked Bastila into letting Atton ride with them to Nar Shaddaa where he would say his good-byes and disappear.

Caius stood in front of the loading ramp of the Hawk, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. He regretted that Atton was leaving, but he shoved the thoughts out of his mind, putting it off until the final departure arrived. Dustil and Xristos showed up earlier than the others, said hello and then hauled their belongings inside the ship. Being Jedi, they did not take much with them. HK was waiting next to Caius and T3 was roaming about the ship

Elliott came next, and he brought a good deal of stuff with him. Aside from his bag, he had a mysteriously oblong, black case in his left hand. He ignored Caius's interest in the case and set all his belongings down at the foot of the ramp. "Hey, droid," he said to HK, "carry my stuff inside."

"Irritation: I am no bellhop droid!" the machine replied angrily.

"Just do it for now, HK," Caius input.

"Resignation: Yes, Master…" HK then grabbed the items carelessly and then dragged them up the ramp muttering something about his assassination protocols.

"Where'd you get that droid, anyway?" Elliott asked as he lit a cigarette.

"I found him."

Elliott blew smoke, but didn't respond to Caius's answer. He looked up and saw Bastila round the corner. "Hey, it's the Jedi-lady…" he paused for a moment, "What the hell is she wearing?"

As Caius turned to look, he saw Bastila had opted to wear traditional Jedi robes. They were tan and brown, completely mundane and ordinary.

"I liked her other outfit better," Elliott said dryly. He took another inhalation of smoke, "You didn't have anything to do with this tragedy, did you?"

"Not a thing," Caius answered and then waved to Bastila.

"Right," Elliott said. He then flicked his cigarette onto the ground and then strode up the ramp and into the ship.

Bastila drew closer, and Caius could feel the uncertainty within her. He realized he had similar apprehensions, after all, they didn't even know where they were going after Nar Shaddaa. That was the main reason Caius was able to convince Bastila to go there…they didn't know what else to do. They both just silently prayed that something would turn up and they'd figure out what to do.

"Everyone here?" she asked.

"No, we're two short."

"I'll go put my things inside, then." She glanced behind her towards the entrance to the dock and saw the slicer approaching, said, "Well, there's Allie."

Caius looked to see the woman approaching. He was struck by how different she looked now than she had a few days prior. Without the grease and dirt mucking up her appearance, she looked better, for lack of a good word. A change of clothes also helped. She had shed the ugly overalls of the day before and was now wearing a thin red jacket over a collared white shirt, and gray trousers. The radiance of her face was now almost physically discernible. It then burst forth as she smiled at them with gleaming white teeth. "Hey guys," she said casually.

"Hello again," Caius said politely.

"Come on," Bastila began, "I'll show you where you'll be staying."

The two women went on board, and Caius continued waiting for the last traveler. A few minutes passed before Atton finally arrived. He approached Caius as if it were any other normal day, said, "Ready?"

"Let's go."

Elliott liked the Ebon Hawk a little too much. His excitement was palpable as he sat in the pilot's seat, eagerly awaiting take-off. Caius looked out the window and saw Carth standing by himself in front of the ship. He stood with his hands at ease, behind his back, with a grim expression on his face. He knew the severity of their mission. Revan had to be found, and the Sith had to be stopped. Carth was so supportive of this trek that he was even willing to send his son, the only family he had left, on the journey. It spoke volumes to his belief in them, and Caius appreciated it.

Atton sat down in the co-pilot's seat and the two men began tampering with the controls, prepping for liftoff. Dustil strode into the cockpit as well, looked out the window at his father. The engines of the ship began humming as it was building up strength for lift-off. Slowly it began forcing itself off of the ground. Outside, Carth held one of his hands in the air, his fingers outstretched in a solemn wave of goodbye. Dustil reciprocated the action. Caius buckled himself into one of the extra seats in the cockpit to avoid falling. Carth faded from view as the ship lifted higher into the atmosphere of the city-planet. Elliott then destroyed the serene, solemn feeling that had overtaken the ship.

"Check this out!" he yelled. He then pitched the ship into a furious bank, doing a complete barrel roll. He laughed loudly as the ship regained its stability. Caius would have been thrown against the wall had he not been seated…Dustil did get thrown against the wall. The young man then scrambled to find himself a seat.

"Don't do that," Caius reprimanded him, "you don't know if someone could get hurt."

"Bah, they're fine," Elliott responded. "Now, let's see if I can do that twice!"

The ship banked hard again, this time the opposite direction, rolling over two…three times before stabilizing again. Elliott exclaimed loudly, his voice overcome with excitement.

"I think I'm going to be sick…" Dustil admitted laboriously,

"Now that's more like it!" continued Elliott. He ran his hands over all of the instruments on the command console, said, "I could get used to this." He laughed again, then said, "All right, enough fun and games. Everyone ready for the jump?" He got the okay from Bastila through the ship's communicator. "All right," he continued, "next stop: Nar Shaddaa—one of my favorite places."

Caius suddenly thought of Mira again. It had been days and they'd had no word from Grenn…maybe she would never wake up. He too felt sick to his stomach.

All sound then ceased and the ship blasted from orbit around Coruscant into the vast expanse of space.