Author's Notes: Yo-here's another update. I'm finally into the second part. Thanks to those of you who actually reviewed the last chapter, you're feedback is appreciated. For some reason the hits for this are higher than ever before, but reviews are lower than ever. It's somewhat...inconsistent. But oh well-there's also this nifty little new contraption that shows how many hits and individual viewers the story has. So I can see how many of you are sneaking around and what country you're from. So there! You think you're all hidden, trying to evade culpability, but I know! Heh, just kidding. Although it does say hits per country there are-it's actually pretty cool. But enough rambling-here's the beginning of the next part.

Part II: Into Heart of Darkness

Chapter Nine

The newly furnished Ebon Hawk soared through hyperspace on the way out of the Republic. The finality had struck the crew hard. Outside the Republic. No one they had yet known—living or dead—had done what they were about to do. Only Revan, and even his position was up in the air. But what was unsettling was the sheer strangeness of the situation. The Republic was so big, so unbelievably large that it takes light forever to get from side to the other. And they were going outside of the confines of this familiar confederation. Even Caius was awed by the concept—he who had spent years on the outer rim in exile and who had fought the Mandalorians in their territory. It was a wholly new experience for all of them.

Now they just had to determine what to do once there. According to the data that Allie hacked out of the stubborn computer, this planet was the last place the Ebon Hawk had been before Revan sent her and T3 back to known space. It was as good a place as any to start—in fact, it was the only place they could start.

That was another odd facet to the trip. In spite of the newness of the flight for the crew, their ship had already been where they were going. It took the wind out of their sails a little. For it wasn't really uncharted territory, their ship knew the place.

It took a while for them to ride the hyperspace route all the way to their intended location. Most of the journey was spent in relative silence. They moved throughout the ship slowly and aimlessly, doing nothing but burning time away. They ate and drank little and slept even less. The ship was commanded by autopilot, and even Elliott meandered about the ship with the same silent apprehension shared by the others.

Only the droids behaved with some semblance of normalcy. Allie frequently tinkered with T3, seemingly forming a kind of connection to the erratic little droid, and HK continued to stew over his inability to handle him.

Every so often, Caius would bump into Bastila as they strolled through the halls, pretending that their steps had purpose. Bastila always regarded him awkwardly. She would look at him but at the same time away from him. She would try to avoid his route or gaze wherever possible. The oppressive silence caused her to turn inward and think herself crazy once again. Set back into her overly-analytical ways, she did not want to have to confront the one person who knew her inner issues. She now wished that she had never confessed to him all the things that had weighed so heavily on her, for the inner torment was now replaced with fear due to her inability to trust him. Especially now that she had solved some of the inner conflict in the Korriban cave. Now her fears were more external. She was not even certain why she feared he would divulge all her secrets. She could not imagine Caius as the kind of cloaked gossiper who would steal away at every waking moment to whisper these truths to anyone who would listen. It was not consistent with his personality, and even if it was, that was hardly the worst thing that could happen to her. And yet, these notions allowed her no comfort, forcing her into a state of perpetual paranoia over it. For these reasons, she avoided Caius. She hoped vainly that he'd somehow forget about what she said or something and she could leave her worries behind, but the great irony is that she would never know if he forgot unless she brought it up. Oh, it was a brutal cycle.

Caius's perspective was much more simplistic. If only Bastila knew how little he thought about her, she surely would have laughed at her own expense for the unnecessary worry she put herself through. For Caius only thought that she was acting standoff-ish for no other reason than she couldn't help it. He also believed that she would continue to act this way once a month as long as he would know her. But when he didn't bump into her in the halls, he thought nothing of her.

Instead, his thoughts drifted to his wound. Slowly, yes, his soul had been mended. But the process was laborious. And now it was not quite the same. Though he had his Force ability back, it was a different feeling, and he longed to return to the way he was before Malachor. He hoped that Revan would be the one who could do something about it. Now that they were finally heading into the Unknown Regions to find him, the stakes of the mission were raised for the Exile. He knew that this was really it. No one else he had encountered could solve the riddle that was his mysterious affliction. They had helped, but not healed. He held no false hope that he ever would be cured, but he knew that if someone could do it, it would be Revan. This was, in essence, his last chance. Either this worked or he would simply have the live the rest of his life with that hole in him. Fortunately, he was getting better at doing just that.

For hours on end this state continued, until eventually Elliott dispelled it. His voice blared over the intercom, announcing their upcoming drop from hyperspace. Caius thought that the voice was suddenly foreign, considering he had gone some time without hearing it—a feat no less incredible than walking on a new planet.

The entire crew assembled in the cockpit for this momentous occasion. Finally they had arrived in the Unknown Regions. Everyone stood in a half-circle around Elliott as he worked on the instruments, bringing the freighter out of transit. He hit the right succession of keys and then relaxed. The familiar scene of the thousand shooting stars repeated itself, and suddenly they found themselves in Sith space. The immediate feeling of the sameness of space was mixed with a profound sense of the unknown. It was a strange contrast, and everyone felt it as they watched their destination approach in the viewport.

The planet they were approaching was the third or fourth from its sun, and roughly the size of Coruscant—at least in terms of planetary mass. The whole orb was obscured behind a white and tan cloud, thick with streaks of brown running parallel to its equator. There were a few large brown spots, which could only be storms. The atmosphere was, as Nantaris had said, very thick. It was hard to visualize any land underneath the dense sky.

Elliott spoke. "It might be rough on the Hawk to go through that sky. We'll have to take it slow and go in at a shallow angle. We don't want to damage the ship."

True to his word, Elliott plotted an entry course as shallow as possible while still avoiding the possibility of skipping off of the atmosphere and bouncing into space. Still the crew watched as their visibility was shot. As the ship plunged into the thick atmosphere, the viewport was clouded with dusty, brown air.

Eventually the ship fell out of the thick stratosphere and into the more visibility-friendly lower atmosphere. They were able to see the land. It was strangely discolored. Some of it was dead and brown, but other parts were greener. There didn't seem to be much water on the surface.

Elliott brought the ship lower, and asked, "Where should I set her down?"

"We need to balance between being close to a populated area, but not close enough to be seen," said Bastila, "can you do that?"

"Of course," said the pilot. "It's not easy, but I could do it for you."

Bastila didn't respond—though it was entirely possible that she didn't hear him.

They flew over what looked like a city, but from their great distance it was hard to tell. It was a great clump of brown things all clustered together in one of the green areas on the surface. Elliott picked out a large canyon to the east of the city and maneuvered a very long way around so that he could hide the ship in the natural wonder. It took some time, but he managed to creep around the back of the canyon, searching for a place to set the Hawk down in. The large canyon thrust itself upward on one of its walls, connected to a modest mountain range. There was sparse foliage, but Elliott found the perfect landing spot. There seemed to be, in the side of the canyon mountains, a perfect, hangar-sized cave. The thing was practically begging the Hawk to be set down in it. Elliott slowed the freighter to a hover and slid her gently into the massive slit in the side of the canyon. The Hawk heaved and then set down easily.

There was a unified exhale as the ship's engines powered down.

"Well," said Elliott, "we landed on one of the Unknown Worlds."

Caius took one step outside before exclaiming, "Oh hell. It is hot out here." He instantly threw his gray overcoat off and tossed it inside the ship. He could already feel his forehead beginning to perspire. He was only wearing his light gray undercoat—the Jedi garb that Elliott mockingly called "bath robes." He sighed, said to Bastila as she too dared a step outside, "We're in the shade, in a cave no less, and it must be—"

Bastila interrupted him, said, "The ship's instruments say that it's thirty-eight Celsius in the shade."

"You know what I really don't like?" Caius said oddly before supplying his own answer, "what you just said to me."

Bastila was rather offended by his comment, said, "Well, then have fun out here in the heat."

"What? That was not serious comment," he said apologetically, but she was already back inside the ship.

Caius wiped his hand across his forehead and then went back inside as well. The crew assembled in the main room and he addressed them. "All right," he began, "Nantaris's scientists were right on the mark—this place is scalding hot. It's tolerable, but by that I mean that we won't physically melt outside, but it's close. Now that we're here, what sort of plan of action do we take?"

"Well," said Dustil, "we could just stroll into town and ask the locals if they've seen Revan."

"That would be…unwise," said Bastila.

"No kidding," replied Elliott.

Xristos put his hand to his mouth, said, "Well, we know we can't draw attention to ourselves. We don't want to go parading around because we probably are aliens the likes of which they've never seen. We don't know how they'll react."

"Naturally," Caius said, "they'd make an uproar. And we don't want the Sith to take notice. Hell, we don't even know what the locals are here. They might be Sith. Really…we're going to have to scout the place."

"Why not send HK?" Allie suggested, surprisingly adding to the strategic conversation.

"HK?" Caius asked, perplexed, "that droid would have the Republic at war within an hour."

"But," Allie continued, "he wouldn't draw attention to himself like we would. Well, at least if they have droids or robots or something. He could just scout the place out and then tell us what he finds."

Caius thought for a moment, admitted, "Well, I think that's probably our best bet."

"You're kidding, right?" Dustil asked.

Caius shook his head, "Allie said it—he's really our only option."

"We could send T3," Bastila suggested.

"No," Xristos responded, "he wouldn't be able to navigate some of the terrain well. We'd need HK just so he could get out of the canyon."

HK's photoreceptor's gleamed as he spoke, "Statement: Master, I am ready and willing to scout this environment. I am also willing to find and slay one of the inhabitants and bring it to you for study."

"No, HK," Caius said pointedly, "do not even fire a shot. Not even in self-defense. If someone sees you, just lose them and come straight back to the ship. But if they're following you…I don't know. Just don't fight or kill anyone."

"Resignation: All right, master. I can see you want to make this hard for me."

It was some time before HK returned to the ship. The crew grew nervous as the hours passed, but eventually the droid did come back. According to his tale, he had not been compromised either.

"Master," began the droid as he entered the main hold of the Hawk, "I have accrued much data on the inhabitants of this planet."

"What did you learn?" asked Caius.

The droid's head swiveled in that familiar three-point turn before he continued. "Answer: There are several different races on this world, master. It seems to be a conglomeration of species. Some are more numerous than others, but I was able to discern at least three main races. One is short and squat, they amble around quite pitifully—even by meatbag standards. The second is not much taller, though considerably thinner. They have long forearms and pale white skin—they also do not appear to communicate audibly. The third race—and by far the most prevalent—seem to be a more humanoid group. They are about size of the average human meatbag but with green skin. They are not like the Twileks either, though. The sides of the faces have an assortment of short tentacles that seem to function as ears."

"Wow," said Dustil, "you were able to learn all this just by watching them from a distance? That's impressive."

"Statement: Although my greatest asset is my ability to assassinate any and every meatbag the master deems of me—and I must make mention that he does not ask enough—I am still a protocol droid as well. It is within the very basic nature of my programming to be able to read and interpret meatbag organisms from either a distance or up close. And in a variety of circumstances."

"What else do you know, HK? Do all these species live in harmony with one another?"

"Answer: I believe they do, master. But as far as I can tell, this is not due to any sickening peace accords within their society. They are the bottom rung of a two-tiered hierarchy. In layman's terms: they are being oppressed. Slave labor, as it were."

Caius thought on this for a moment, asked, "Slaves, slaves to what? Are you sure of this?"

"Answer: I am fairly certain, master. Although, it must be stated that despite the fact that I am technically a protocol droid with a perfect historical record of interpreting alien behaviors, it is still possible that they are behaving the way they are as of their own volition. But the probability is against it."

"What's the probability that they aren't slaves?" Xristos asked.

"Answer: 2.1."

Xristos blew out his nose, said, "Well, I think I'll take the droid for his word. They sound like slaves."

"But slaves to what?" Bastila asked. "It couldn't be the Sith, could it?" Before anyone could offer an answer to her rhetorical question, she turned to HK and asked, "Did you see any Sith out there."

"Answer: Negative, Jedi Bastila, I observed none of the meatbags that attacked us on the dead planet. The only way to find out the answer to your query for certain is to ask one of them."

"Well, that doesn't seem to be a very likely possibility," Bastila said unhappily.

Xristos disagreed, said, "We could ask one. As long as we knew it was safe and we found one. I like to consider myself an amateur philologist. Perhaps I can use the Force to aid in communication with the native species. If I recall, Revan was adept at this skill."

"You want to just go out there and ask an alien what they're doing here?" Bastila asked, shocked. "Do you have any idea what kind of reaction that might cause? They might not even know that other species exist."

"If the Sith are here, then they would know," offered Caius. "And if they are slaves, then I doubt they'd be hostile to us."

"But what if the Sith aren't here?" Bastila asked.

"Then we have even less of a problem," Caius responded.

HK decided to offer his opinion once again, said, "Statement: Master, the natives of this world do not seem hostile in even the most innocent sense. They carry no weapons with them in the fields, and the farmers who toil there generally are solitary. If you wish to speak to one of these creatures, you could try to isolate one of the farming kinds. However, I would prefer it if we threatened them for information. You know where I stand."

"Uh, thanks but no thanks, HK," Caius said. "However, I think the droid has a decent idea about talking to the locals. Really, we're not going to make any progress unless we find out what they know. If we can find out whether or not there are Sith on this planet, that'll make our job much easier."

Bastila frowned, "I don't think that this is a good idea. But we don't seem to have much of an option. As you said, we're going to have to learn from the locals one way or another."

"Who should go?" Dustil asked.

"As few as possible," Bastila replied. "Obviously Xristos must go, as he is the one with the language aptitude. Only one other should accompany him, we don't want to frighten anyone with numbers, but of course we can't send him alone."

"I think it should be Caius," said Dustil. He didn't have any particular reason why, but perhaps he wanted to volunteer the Exile simply because he didn't want to go—despite his friendship with the old man.

Caius shrugged. "All right, I'll do it."

Caius and Xristos trudged through the bottom of the canyon, the intense heat covering them like a quilt. Both men had a film of sweat covering their bodies and the sun reflected off of them. They had forsaken their heavy robes for the lighter ones, but it was to no avail.

They followed a loose guide provided by HK, mapping out their route to a nearby farming area. Or what seemed to be a crop rotation of some kind from what the droid had described.

The bottom of the canyon was a wide, flat gully, sand and rocks everywhere. There was sparse foliage in it—only some pathetic shrubs that offered no shade. A little stream flowed leisurely through the middle of the flat expanse. Caius and Xristos determined to stay near it as long as possible. Unfortunately, it offered nothing more than peace of mind, for it was too small to be of any physical consolation. They would periodically splash the water all over their faces, but the stream was naturally warm. All they could do was stamp through it.

They did not speak to each other much due to fatigue, but eventually they did reach the landmark for which HK had informed them to be on the lookout. It was a strange, gnarled tree that almost seemed to have a face carved into its trunk. Its limbs were twisted and leafless, but it was so memorable due to the face. It bore a distinct resemblance to a howling ghost that might appear in a nightmare. It was merely an outline of eyes and a wide-open mouth.

A natural trail sprung out from the roots of the decaying tree, snaking up the canyon wall. There was a switchback, and then it appeared to emerge at the ridge.

Both Jedi hiked up the trail slowly, not wanting to exert themselves too much on such a hot planet. Though it was only a very short trail, about one hundred yards in total walking, it was very steep and it was still so incredibly hot.

As they finished their climb, they found themselves in the midst of a kind of farm. There were stalks of a mysterious plant spreading out miles and miles, as far as the eye could see. And they were suddenly in the middle of it. The crop was thin and tan, but it was much bigger than wheat. It was more resistant to the touch as well—they could not just blow it over. The two Jedi surveyed the horizon, marveling at the ocean of crops that expanded outwards. In the middle of the sea was an island city that looked like it was hewn out of dirt and stone.

"This is surreal," said Caius. The fact that they were so far away from the Republic was beginning to dawn on him, but the separation now felt as though it was not only one of distance but of time. He felt like had suddenly been transported thousands of years into the past.

"It is so…different," Xristos began. However, his words were cut short as both men heard the unmistakable shuffling of movement behind them. They instinctively turned around to confront whatever had made the noise. All they found, however, was the innocent sight of a large wooden cart moving towards them. It kicked up a billowing cloud of hot dust behind it as it moved down a dirt road only a few yards away from where the Jedi were standing.

As it came closer, they saw that a frighteningly large reptilian animal was yoked onto the front of the cart. The wagon itself was exposed, and giant bales of the grain crop were bundled together for transportation. On top of the red-scaled reptile there seemed to be a large, discolored bump. But as it continued on its path, they came to realize that it was actually another creature riding the beast on a saddle.

The small caravan was a complete anomaly to them. This part of their history was so far back that most completely ignored the fact that once all species in the galaxy had been confined to their own planets. This was a reminder of that truth. It was beautiful in its quaint simplicity. It harkened unto an era that was so foreign to them that it may as well never have existed, but it seemed so basic and so true that they found the sight endearing. The two men would have been content to merely watch the wagon go, but their passive observations were taken from them when the cart stopped.

Apparently its driver had seen them.

The creature had reigned in the great lizard and halted its movement. Dust kicked up slightly around it, but after a few moments dissipated. The rider then just sat atop its steed, unmoving. Caius and Xristos were unsure what to do. The thing was certainly looking at them, but it was not making any movement. It simply sat there. Should they approach it? Would it run if they did so?

Their fears that the creature would jet off in a panic if they made a step towards it were assuaged when it dismounted and then took up standing next to the great beast. The two Jedi looked at each other briefly before opting to wade through the crops towards their welcoming committee.

As they drew closer, they saw that this alien would be classified under HK's third category of races on this planet. It was just as tall as Xristos was, about six feet, and its body was as thick and muscular as a human's. It had very large yellow eyes that watched them unblinkingly, but showed no trace of fear of confusion. Its face was lean and tragic, a somewhat gaunt heart shaped head set upon its shoulders. On the sides of its face were the strange tentacle-like appendages that HK claimed were ears. There were many of them, and the longest of the members seemed to be about an inch. For some reason they reminded Caius of the buttons on an old manual typewriter. On the top of its head was a dark cloth, wrapped around it several times—presumably shielding it from the sun. It wore black clothes, pieces of cloth that bore a distinct resemblance to human clothing. It had a dirtied coat over a darker green shirt, and black trousers that protected the creature's distinctly avian legs from the sun and dirt of their world. It had strange looking leather shoes that were warped to accommodate the almost hoofed look of its feet.

The two Jedi reached the edge of the road where the alien was standing, and still it did not move. It regarded them almost casually. Considering the scope of its find, they had assumed that the thing would be a little more enthusiastic, or at least interested. But it appeared not to regard them as anything out of the ordinary.

Caius leaned and whispered to Xristos, "Should we say something to it?"

Before Xristos could respond, the alien made a gesture. It silently held its hand out to them. Four long fingers unfolded to reveal what looked like nuts in its palm. It gestured towards them.

"Does it want us to take them?" Caius asked.

"I think so."

"Should we do it? What if they're poisoned or something."

Xristos thought for a moment, then said, "I doubt that this thing carries around nuts laced with cyanide just in case he finds two aliens in his crop field." Xristos smiled at the thing and took one of the nuggets in his hand, then said "Thank you." Of course it wouldn't understand, but maybe the sound of speech mattered.

He popped it into his mouth and then swallowed. He smirked at Caius and then said, "It's fine. It tastes like an almond."

Caius then ate the nut in turn. Still, however, the alien regarded them with the same bland expression. Its small mouth did not move, and it barely turned its head.

"Didn't you say you could learn to speak to it?" Caius asked.

"It has to talk first," Xristos responded.

The creature seemed too polite to interrupt their conversation. They looked back towards it and it still simply stood there, staring at them. Caius was assuming that the alien was a male of its species. Of course, he had no justification for this, he just figured that a female of its kind would somehow remind him of a woman. For all he knew, this thing was part of a mono-gendered or androgynous race, but he decided he would think of it as a "he."

"Thank you for the food," Caius said, trying to get the thing to speak. It did not oblige.

"Do you have any water?" Xristos asked. Still the creature stared. He tried to mime the action of drinking for a few seconds. The alien then, still without speaking, reached down to a pouch around its waist and pulled a flask out. It appeared to be some kind of canteen. It then handed the brownish, organ-looking container to the old Jedi.

Xristos tilted his head back to drink it, spilling a little before getting his fill. "Wow," he said, "that's the best water I've ever had."

In the midst of the strange encounter with the alien and the awe of seeing a new species, Caius had forgotten both the heat and his thirst. However, now it came rushing back to him. After Xristos gave the flask back to the alien, it silently turned and offered the canteen to him. He thankfully took the offer and downed a rather large gulp of the surprisingly cold liquid. He let out a refreshed gasp as he gave the canteen back to the generous alien.

The monotonous stare continued for a few more seconds before the alien finally spoke. It uttered what only seemed like one word. It was a reasonably paced, breathy kind of speech, almost musical in its nature.

Xristos immediately leapt on the opportunity and sent a surge of the Force through the alien. It seemed to be aware that he was doing something, but was generally unconcerned, maintaining its usual stance of passiveness. Xristos concentrated hard. He closed his eyes and held out his right hand, trying to accomplish the language trick. Revan was much more skilled in the art, but as long as he could glean a small understanding of their speech, it would be a success. The old Jedi blinked and opened his eyes, signifying a return to normalcy.

The alien tried again, muttered its one word sentence.

"He says," Xristos began with difficulty, "he wants us to follow him."

"Ask him what for."

Xristos did, then responded, "He says that we are poor and starving, and that his family will take care of us. I don't know where he inferred that, he thinks we're refugees out here or something. It's odd, I would think he'd be shocked that we're here, but he doesn't seem to be."

"We can't follow him, we don't know what that even means. Ask why he thinks we need help."

Once again, the old Jedi spoke in what even Caius thought sounded like broken alien-language. He returned, "He says that we must be hungry and thirsty since we took his food."

"But, we were trying to be polite," Caius said forlornly.

"He doesn't understand," Xristos said after another exchange. "Why take it if you don't need it? he asks."

Caius thought for a moment, then said, "Tell him we didn't know. We won't take any food anymore. See if you can bait him into answering some questions."

The alien would buy none of it. Xristos returned, "He says if we didn't need the food and water, then we now owe him a favor."

Caius sighed. Apparently they had violated some sort of code of alien chivalry. And it only took them about five minutes to do it. "Tell him we'll do him a favor if he'll answer our questions."

"He will answer after we do something for him."

"Very well, what does he want?"

Xristos negotiated for a moment, then said, "He wants us to fix his household robot."

"They have droids on this planet?"

The old man shrugged, said, "I guess so."

Caius mused, "And I thought they looked so primitive." He sighed, then continued, "There's going to issues with that. We don't want to be seen, and I doubt either of us could do it. We need Allie. Try to explain it to him."

Xristos did so, then replied to Caius, "He says that our presence in the city would be no less strange than anything else."

"I don't think he understands," Caius said. "We're afraid of the Sith. Could you explain that to him?"

"I don't believe they have a word for 'Sith' as we do," said the older Jedi, "it'll be hard, but I can try." He then launched into his longest turn yet. Caius could see that he struggled mightily to convey their anxiety. Eventually, the alien understood and consented. Xristos said, "He says that there are very few Sith on this planet. They are all concentrated in their headquarters area in the middle of the city and rarely leave it aside from dolling out punishment. And even so, he could conceal us from them—everyone knows tricks for that."

Caius frowned. It sounded too dangerous, but they desperately needed someone who could be an informant to them. They needed a lead. Any lead. And this alien presented the possibility, but they'd have to journey into the city for him to talk. The other problem then entered his thought, he said, "Tell him that we can't do it. We need to get Allie."

Xristos again spoke to the alien, then back to Caius. "He said he believes us. He says return here tomorrow at the same time with Allie and he'll be making the rounds again. We can go with him then."

"That's good," Caius said, "and it'll give us time to deliberate what to do."

The alien then moved swiftly and suddenly. Caius was shocked since the thing had stood so still for so long he had almost come to regard him as a statue. However, the creature merely mounted the giant lizard that had patiently waited for it and then ushered it into movement.

Xristos was about to bid the alien goodbye before Caius asked, "Wait—should we get his name? You never know."

Xristos called after it. The alien answered and then began moving his large wagon away from them, down his beaten path towards the city. The old man said, "He is called Hronah, of the Hasan."

The two Jedi watched the perplexing creature as he faded down the road, devolving into a speck as his cart and monster lizard increased the distance between them. They sighed simultaneously when they realized that they would have to make the long trek through the heat and back to the Hawk. The only consolation was that the day seemed to be waning. But the heat did not lessen its intensity.

"I can't take this heat," said Bastila from underneath a bag of ice. The small piece of coldness was resting on her forehead as she reclined on her chair in the briefing room.

"Better get used to it, babe," Elliott said nonchalantly. "If it's this hot in the shade—inside the ship—then there's not much I can do about it."

Bastila was tired of talking to Elliott, but Allie had been quiet and Dustil was meditating or something. Or perhaps he was taking a cold shower. That sounds like a good idea, she thought to herself.

She was drenched in sweat. She was also wearing the Jedi undercoat, but it really made no difference in her general misery factor. She had rigged a bag of ice from the Hawk's kitchen to keep herself cool, but the ice was melting fast. Soon she'd have to recycle it so they did not run out of water.

She sighed in distress, said, "This isn't working."

"You know, you could always do what Nantaris said—that might help," Elliott suggested for clearly ulterior purposes.

"What was that?" she asked, feigning ignorance in the hope that Elliott might not say it.

But he did.

"You could take your clothes off."

"Why must…" Bastila began angrily before stopping herself. No matter how many times she degenerated into a mudslinging bout with Elliott, it had never accomplished anything. In fact, it had only perpetuated his annoying tendencies. She would have to rethink her strategy to defeat him. Suddenly she had an idea.

"You know," she said, "I just might do that."

Elliott's eyes widened with surprise, "Really?" he asked. His voice cracked when he stated his question, resulting in embarrassment. He cleared his throat and asked again in an intentionally deep voice, "Really?"

"Yes, I think I will," she said. "But of course I'll go into my room first and lock the door—that way I can cool off and be in private."

"Damn you, woman," said Elliott. "I mean…uh…"

"You are not going to win this time," Bastila stated victoriously.

Elliott frowned, said, "It just got a lot colder in here."

"That it did," Bastila replied. She was about to stride arrogantly out of the room due to her victory, but against her better judgment, decided to ask a question. She said, "Why don't you give Allie as much of a hard time as me?"

Elliott's face scrunched up all oddly, he said, "Allie? Eck."

Bastila was offended by this, though she wasn't really sure why. She didn't really have any sympathies for Allie, but she was disgusted by the fact that Elliott thought she was so far beneath him. She said, "What's that for? She's attractive."

"Yeah, I guess," Elliott said, "if you like girls who don't wear makeup and work on machines all day."

"I take it you don't."

He shook his head, said, "Nope. If you can persuade her to change her behavior that way, then I might leave you alone."

"How is it that someone like you maintains such high standards for everyone. Even if she changed what you didn't like, you'd find another fault."

Elliott mused, said, "Well, you could try to make her prettier than you. Then I'd leave you alone. Of course, that'd be pretty hard. So I guess you're stuck."

Bastila frowned again and began her storm away from the room. She could've left in triumph, but she had to ask a stupid question and fritter away her much needed success.

Elliott said, "This is a victory for me, isn't it?"

"You are such…a…such an ass!" she said bitterly.

"Ouch! Claws out today!"

Before the verbal spar could continue, the sounds of Xristos and Caius stumbling back onto the Ebon Hawk ended all the conversations onboard. Both men were exhausted and asking for water. Bastila obliged them.

She asked, "What did you find out?"

"We may have a lead," Caius said. "We'll talk about it. For now, just let me rest."