Ebon Hawk:

Enroute to Yavin

Danika

We lifted off, racing into space. I felt the ship lurch as we jumped to hyper speed, and felt myself relax. We were on our way. Bastila came in from the cockpit, and I looked at her. "What's wrong now?"

"I wanted to speak with you about our mission, and what lies behind it. It seems the Force is pushing us into a confrontation with the Dark Lord himself. I wanted you to realize the dangers and prepare yourself. The confrontation with Malak will be difficult for you. I remember how hard it was for me when I faced Revan."

"I saw her die in your vision. Did you have to kill her?"

"We used my battle meditation to board the ship, but it was not our mission to kill her. Our mission was to capture her if it was at all possible. It was Malak that fired upon his own master's ship. He hoped to kill both his master and us."

"So Malak completed the mission for you."

"As I said we did not come to kill her. "The Jedi do not believe in execution. No one deserves to die for their crimes. Remember that both Revan and Malak were once heroes to the Republic and the Jedi. Their fall highlights the weakness in all of us."

"I will face him because I must. If kill him I must, I will. I will not gloat or glory in it."

"I know that. I have been studying you and you have grown even farther than I might have imagined just in the last few days. I have seen you resist the dark side in your memories, and continue to walk the light path. But I worry that all of your progress merely means you will fall because of a misstep. You must fully understand what the dark side represents, for it is the reason we Jedi exist. We confront it and fight it at every turn. The worst of that is when it is within us." She shook her head. "Only a Jedi master can explain this fully, but I will try."

"Please, guide me."

"Using anger or the temptation is not the whole of the dark side. These are just easy things to point at for students. Using the expedient path rather than the slower more careful path can also lead there. You spoke of Revan looking for a way to protect the Republic. That would be expedient for someone that feels war will always be with us. But at what point does expedient become wrong? You were a soldier. Didn't you see men thrown into a battle untried because a commander didn't want to wait for better-trained troops?"

"More often that I want to think about it."

"Accepting punitive losses in a battle is expedient if you win. Allowing a planet to be devastated so your forces can be elsewhere on a mission you judge as important. The list goes on. That can lead to the dark side as surely as anger, and Revan was known for it.

"The dark side is like a person that wants you to love them. It can cajole, and entice, and like an attractive man can lead you on. It can be impossible to resist. Once you have stopped resisting, you realize that there is no going back, no way to step back across that line into the light again. It twists you up inside, makes expediency the only course to follow. Like a spice addict you have to continue, even as you know you are killing yourself."

"You sound like you've been through this."

"I have not, but I have skirted the edges of it. Everyone has their pet peeves that get through their shell to poke at them. Their temptations to do rather than observe. My mother is one such for me, as you know.

"But for those that have given themselves wholly to it, it is worse. Look at what is happening even now! Billions dead on Taris because of Malak's fury that he had not caught me. Shattered fleets, economies ruined by fighting between us. What sort of person must you become to do things not only willingly, but gladly?"

I pictured Malak, visualized the order being given. "I can't see myself ever doing such a thing."

"That is why the dark side is so insidious. Do you think Revan woke up one morning and said to herself, 'I'm bored. Let's conquer the Republic!'? The Sith have become stronger with Revan and Malak joining them, and those of our order that have given in because of their admiration of her have swelled their ranks. Before Revan's fall she would have seen it as poetic justice. After all, what greater weapon is there than to turn you enemy to your cause? To use their own knowledge against them?

"As our strength goes to them, our resolve begins to weaken. As if the two sides were both using battle mediation simultaneously. But they are the stronger now. We must harden our hearts, do whatever we must to end this conflict. Even when the very idea of battle makes us more weary."

But that is simple expedience. I wanted to say. "What must I do?"

"I don't know." She looked tired. "Our path is clouded and unclear. But I sense ominous shadows in that future." She shook her head. "I think I have probably given you enough to chew on. I am going to meditate."

Hyperspace travel is like nothing in the Galaxy. You are in a bubble of life, racing through a medium where nothing is known to survive. Your ship rumbles and vibrates with power as you hurtle faster than light. It is like sledding down a hill, but with a blindfold on. Only a Nav-computer guides you, and you have to put your faith it.

Of course I had been through this before, but something didn't feel right. It was like an itch in the center of my back I couldn't reach.

All of the Jedi aboard had taken to using the portside cargo bay as our practice area. Canderous spent his time in the starboard cargo bay there on his weapons and exercising constantly. After Mission had optimized our storage to compensate for the weight, we had a lot of free room, and remotes could maneuver without danger as we fought them. As I moved through the training Katas, I could feel someone watching, but there was no one there.

We had fallen into our duties aboard easily. One of the duties no one had considered was commissary officer and cook. After a disastrous attempt by me to make something, everyone had been irate. But Zaalbar had stepped into the breach, and had proven to be a surprisingly good cook. His skill extended beyond the simple cooking of his people, and I would have judged him excellent. The only problem we had with him was his sensitive nose. When Canderous had asked him to make Merdai stew, Zaalbar had refused. The dish was incredibly spicy, and of all aboard, only Canderous and I would eat it. Zaalbar had stayed away as Canderous made it. I had looked just yesterday for what remained of the stew he had made, and it had disappeared. Canderous had denied eating it, and Zaalbar had denied throwing it into the recycling chute.

Just before we dropped out of Hyper at Yavin, Zaalbar approached me.

"The ration containers have been broken into." He reported.

I took the wrapper he held out. It was the standard emergency rations we kept aboard. For the life of me, I couldn't see anyone eating it if they could avoid them. Unlike combat rations, where at least you know the race that is eating them, you couldn't guarantee who might have to live on E-rats. They had to sustain any of a hundred life forms with varying needs in minerals, and since it had to be edible for all, they had turned out to be palatable to no one.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"If there's anyone who knows how much food we have aboard, its Big Z." Mission quipped.

"Just the emergency rations?'

"No." He said. "Fresh fruit, raw Zabu meat and Canthis bird. Some of Mission's candy-"

"Hey, that's serious!" She said.

I bit back a laugh. "I will take a look." I said.

The food was stored in sealed containers. I found the opened one that had held the emergency rations after a search. The crate had been almost emptied to make enough room for a small person to scrunch in without too much difficulty. It was at the back and top of a storage bay, and had been resealed clumsily, but well enough to avoid a routine look. I climbed down, then went to the storage lockers on the opposite side of the bay. Davik had a gourmand's appetite, and we had a wide selection. The lockers were equipped so that they were temperature and humidity controlled. Frozen foods chilled foods like meat and vegetables that would be cooked, dry goods, and spices. I checked each locker, looking at the inventory sheets as I did. We were missing a container of Pipalli, a spice closer to rocket fuel than food the Mandalorian used in their stews. About two pounds of raw Zabu and the same of Canthis bird. While edible raw, they were much better cooked.

In the vegetable bins I found that of the ten kilos of halo fruit we had brought aboard, we only had four left. However I checked the log, and after going through the fruit I discovered that about a kilo was missing that had not been accounted for. The Donkin Pears had been harrowed as well. Of fifty kilos of them only 20 remained according to the manifest, but there were two kilos of them missing as well. It wasn't vermin. The food had been neatly rearranged so that a casual inspection would reveal nothing.

I turned, and then systematically searched the bay. The only sign of an interloper was a neatly stacked pile of E-ration wrappers and the wrappers off Mission's candy hidden in a corner. All of them had been meticulous flattened, and stacked as if they expected to be graded for neatness.

That told me that our stowaway had been aboard for more than a week. But we had only left Dantooine four days earlier. So someone had slipped aboard. How I had yet to discover. Whoever it was had left the Hypnar bird, which needed to be cooked, yet taken meats that were readily edible without cooking.

I left the bay deep in thought. I was bothered more by the fact that whoever it was, they had slipped aboard, didn't register on the biosensors that are standard for ships that might land at alien planets, and had done so without any of the Jedi aboard noticing. We had Zaalbar's nose, we had Canderous with more experience in war and ambush than the rest of us combined. We had three Jedi, one of them scion of a race that hunted to live! Yet they were still unnoticed.

I walked toward the port side berthing area, where the men slept, and paused. I had felt rather than heard the stealthy movement of someone moving back the way I came. I snapped my fingers as if I had just thought of something, turned and walked past the storage bay and round into the other one. Canderous was in the middle of his normal physical exercise regimen, doing push-ups on his knuckles. He looked up at my approach, though that didn't affect his metonymic rhythm. I turned, and headed back, moving back into the central mess hall.

"Better not even think about going to Alderaan." Mission grumped. "Davik is wanted there under every alias we have with a 'shoot 'em dead on sight' notation."

"Then we had best not go there." I agreed. I walked toward the cockpit, and stopped I felt that subtle movement after I had passed. This time I felt amusement. Not my own, but from my prey. I turned, drawing a confused look from Juhani as I went aft again.

I suddenly understood how they were moving unseen at least. The compartments and passageways had ducting and crawl spaces both above and below for ease of repair. Someone Canderous' size or Zaalbar's would have had trouble moving in them, but any of the women aboard could have easily. Whoever this was, they had to be smaller than even Mission. I heard a noise rather than sensing it. A giggle. Whoever it was had detected my interest, and had been playing tag with me!

I returned to the cargo bay, and opened the cooler where the fruit was. I selected two halo fruit, and closed the locker again. I sat down, holding one fruit in my hand the other placed before me on the deck.

I love halo fruit. The tart juice makes me glad to be alive. I moaned as if this were the most sensuous thing I had ever done in my life, as if all I loved in the world had been condensed into that fruit. I nibbled, I played with it, I listened as I did. Someone was there to my right, where a vent led into the air ducts. I didn't look toward them, merely leaned back into the lockers, and ate.

The vent grate slipped open, two small grubby hands holding it to set aside gently. I could see the head. Filthy matted blonde hair hanging over a small face. As it came farther into view, I could see that it was a little girl, perhaps eight years old. I turned my head slightly, picking up the other fruit. She froze.

I motioned for her to come out, and slowly she did. I moved my hand as if to lob the fruit to her and she put out her hands ready to catch it. I tossed it gently, and she caught it, watching me, warily still close to the duct. Hunger outweighed her caution a little, and she bit into it with a moan of delight that mimicked mine.

"You were hungry weren't you?" I asked. She looked up, but there wasn't any glimmer of understanding. She watched me, eating. "What are you doing here?"

She chewed, then grunted. "As ma shooka." She said.

"Do you have a name?" She was watching me, and I touched my chest. "Danika."

"Daneeka." She repeated. I repeated myself, then reached out as if to say, 'and you are'? "Me tal amkris Sasha." She said, touching her own.

"Sasha?" She nodded. Except for the name it sounded something like Mandalorian. "Well Sasha, you need a more filling meal." I signaled her to stay there, and went to the galley. Zaalbar was making stew, and I asked for a couple of bowls. He shrugged, ladling them out, setting thick slices of crusty bread on top of them for me. I walked back to the cargo hold. Sasha had disappeared, but when I set down the bowls in front of me and resumed my seat, she warily re-emerged. She looked at them, mewling with hunger.

Then one of the bowls shivered, and it started to rise, but fell back, the bread falling to the deck. I looked at her, and she was concentrating, trying to move it from across the room. I clicked my tongue, and she stopped, staring at me.

I lifted my hand, visualizing the bowl and it's contents. I picked up the bread with the Force, flipping it back atop the bowl, then lifted it smoothly. It hovered half a meter off the floor. I heard her gasp of delight, and I slid it through the air to land a meter in front of her. She moved forward slowly as if she thought she might be netted, then picked up the bowl. The bread disappeared into her mouth, and she watched me as she ate. I picked up mine, and began to eat slowly, savoring the taste. She tasted the stew, made a face, then pulled the missing jar of Pipalli out, sprinkling it on the stew.

"Well we know where that went now." I said.

She suddenly stiffened. I looked toward the door. Bastila stood there, looking at me, then at our little stowaway. "I think she needs a bath."

"So do I. But we aren't that far along yet."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know yet. All I have gotten is a smattering of a Mandalorian dialect I don't know, and Sasha as her name." I looked at the girl, who was watching us both, still stuffing her face. "What is it, Bastila?"

"We've dropped into normal space, and we're headed toward an old Republic storage satellite orbiting Yavin 4."

I nodded, watching the girl. "Let me know when we're going to dock."

"What about her?"

"Until we know more, nothing but feeding her and letting her get used to us. We don't even know where she boarded the ship. It could have been Taris, or Dantooine."

"How could she-" Bastila shook her head. "Of course, we loaded supplies, and most of them were brought aboard by droids."

Sasha was watching us. She had finished the stew, and was running her fingers around the bowl to catch any errant morsels remaining. Then she set it down with the spoon standing out of it. I looked at her, then held out my hand expectantly. "Watch this." The bowl quivered, and lifted. Her control wasn't good yet. It looked like a drunken invisible man was carrying it to me. Then it dropped, and I caught it. "Good, Sasha." I said. "Bastila, we need a pillow and a blanket."

"Can't we just move her into the berthing area?"

"Have you ever dealt with a feral animal you want to make a pet?" I asked. She shook her head. "First you feed it, but you always allow it room to escape. You put out food for it so that it learns that food is there to be had. Let it decide when it wants to get closer. After a time, it will move closer because you haven't done anything to frighten it. Soon it eats close enough to touch. Not long after that, it lets you pet it. Eventually it takes the food from your hand. But if you rush, you frighten it and if it doesn't just run away and never come back, you have to start regaining it's trust all over again."

She shrugged, then left, returning with the items I had requested. I set them down on the floor, and left.

The satellite had been a hold over from the war of Exar Kun. When the Republic had invested the planet, they had moved a dozen of them into orbit, and used them to support the fleet that had devastated the planet. I even understood why it was still there. Afterward, it would have been too much trouble to blow it up, and too expensive to remove it. Everyone had wanted to get home and get on with their lives. There are worlds that still live off the supply dumps that were emplaced on their worlds during that war.

But the security systems were still active. Our transponder code was stripped out, and we received permission to dock.

The ship settled into the docking bay, and the ramp dropped after checking the atmosphere. Bastila looked at me oddly as they shut down. Nominally I was in charge, but Bastila had a veto. She declined to use it at this moment. Our scanner had read a single fusion plant running, enough to maintain life support and orbital integrity, but not much else.

"Bastila, could you contact Dantooine and see if we can find out who our

stowaway is?"

"Of course."

I decided to take Juhani and Mission with me. Mission because as our official supercargo, she had a list of our needs, and Juhani because I felt she needed some time with others. She had spent most of her time by herself.

One convoluted passageway led from the only docking bay that seemed accessible, and the main disbursement office. Along the way panels had been ripped out, and controls and systems cross-wired. I could see that someone had taken a lot of effort to get the module back in operation. We came to a door that didn't have a keypad. It had been ripped out, and a simple annunciator had been wired in instead. I shrugged, pushing the button.

"Who is it?" A voice asked in Rodian.

"I am Danika Wordweaver. I am on a mission for the Jedi Council."

"What the Jedi Council need with poor old Suvam Tam?" The voice asked.

"Our mission doesn't concern you directly. We came here to investigate."

"What you investigate? Why this still here?"

"Among other things, yes."

He or she sighed. "Not get anything done unless I talk to you, I assume. Wait, the last door sticks a bit." There was thumping and cursing in Rodian, then the door rolled open. Suvam Tam was a middle aged Rodian with a harried expression. "Look, see what you must, and let me get back to work." He said, turning to return to a workbench nearby.

I walked up to the docking control view, almost a hundred meters away, looking at the reddish glow of Yavin itself. The fourth moon was a gray and green planet, just coming back from what had been inflicted on it. "So sad."

"That Republic must destroy?" Suvam shrugged. "When fools settle in one place, it happens. I saw, and there was no choice." He hadn't looked up from what he was doing.

"You've been here since then?"

"Before." He slipped a monocular on, and was working on an antique weapon. "Exar Kun he bring Sith here, build many, many temples here to Dark side. Not want to do work themselves. They bring in slaves. Most work on buildings, but some," he thumbed his chest, "work on things needed to defend planet. Bases, weapons, those things.

"Best weapons makers Baragwin, you know Baragwin, right?" I nodded. "Some captured, others kidnapped. They make them work to make weapons. Big weapons." He moved his hands as if to show the size. "Small weapons, some for hand like those." He motioned toward the lightsaber at my belt.

"Me, I work for Baragwin master. Get taken with him. Him say I have gift. Can see what I want weapon to do before I even start building. He say 'when war over, we set up shop, make lot of credits'."

He sighed unhappily. "Master die in first attack. I captured by Republic. Interrogate much time, trying to get secrets I don't have. Then?" He waved toward the moon. "They smash planet to rock in a lot of places. Some slaves survive. Some don't."

"You were a slave?"

"No!" He looked surprised. "Use collar on craftsman? Not even Sith that stupid. No, we forced labor. Work or no eat. Work or we punish. Life very simple if that your choice."

"That is so sad." I pictured a little Rodian boy being starved because he wouldn't work.

He shrugged. "Not as bad as those building temples. Those that work die like insects. Work until they can work no more, then killed. Even finishing not good enough. Now you know a secret they not want you to know. So you die anyway." He shrugged. "When moon was dead, Republic leave. Me I hid." He waved at the surroundings. "I stay to see what can be salvaged!"

I looked about. What he had been given in lieu of pay wasn't much. "You stayed to salvage?"

"Yes. Find I not like people as much as I did when I was young. Older than I look! Stay. Fix small ship to go down to surface to scavenge food, things left by dead. Many things I have found. Many need repair. Many of interest to Exchange or Trandoshan. Some very interesting to Corporations. Others of interest only to historians or collectors." He held up his current project, what looked like a half-melted lightsaber. "Last battle very bad. Many died below unable to fight back. Massassi all died. Poor Massassi." He turned back to what he was working on.

"But we received permission to dock."

"Yes. Davik visit a long time ago, Trandoshan, smugglers. They shift cargo from one to the other. Keep from bothering law when they do." He didn't look up.

"How are you set for supplies?"

"Food is adequate. Trandoshan bring, but not quality." He waved toward a crate marked E-rats. "Not good, but filling."

Mission seemed to mentally rub her hands together. "Well how long has it been since you tasted Zabu meat? Or Canthis bird? Or even Hypnar bird?"

Suvam looked up, and I could almost see his mouth watering. Mission pretended to ignore him. "Or Halo fruit and Donkin pears?"

"You have?"

"We have. Now if we can come to an agreement..."

I left her to it. There is nothing the Twi-lek enjoys more than haggling, and I saw that we had a professional in charge. I ignored the haggling, instead paying attention to the exhibits, for if anything this was a museum. Some of what he had was as good as the day it had been manufactured. But a lot had been damaged. I saw a Kerantonian disruptor rifle that had last been held by Exar Kun's Jedi guard, a plasma grenade powerful enough to destroy the station, now inert. Massassi swords as tall as I was, holocrons that held the sum of Exar Kun's teaching needing only the hand of those who could use the Force to bring them to life. I wanted to touch them, to feel this history.

The item that had been placed with honor was a 35-centimeter long double bladed lightsaber. I leaned forward, intent. The handle had been badly damaged, but it had been ornate and well thought out.

"You like?" Suvam opened the case. "Found in the citadel of Exar Kun himself!'

I wished it still worked. Better yet, if there had been provenance for the blade. Exar Kun's blade had looked like this, and his Jedi guard had copied it.

The stone called Heart of the Force had been part of Exar Kun's blade. A relic worth any price.

Mission finished negotiating. In return for ten kilos of Zabu meat, five each of both Hypnar and Canthis bird, with almost all of our Donkin pears thrown in, she had gotten us enough power packs for our assorted weapons. In addition four Seismic blast charges, a trio of proton torpedoes found in a wrecked ship below and a dozen assorted crystals usable in a lightsaber. A light saber can be altered to take additional stones, each crystal modulating the beam to make it stronger, or more efficient against specific targets. Once we knew for sure which these were, we could install them, making us more efficient.

It took us several hours to move our purchases to the ship. Once we were done, we lifted off, headed back to the hyper limit. The bedding was gone, and I set a flask of water beside Sasha's bolthole as we pushed outward.

Bastila was in the control room, and signaled me in. Master Vandar stood in midair in the holotank.

"Report, Padawan."

I reported the find. While you might think that there was nothing of value, the Sith would be searching for valuables, and Suvam Tam was in the position to sell it to them. I suggested a Jedi team come to buy anything of real importance.

Vandar nodded. "This we shall do when we have time. Bastila has told us of the child. She is strong in the Force?"

"As strong if not stronger than I, Master Vandar." I said. "Without training she has already learned to use some of her Force skills. Is there any word of who she might be?"

"The local records are vague. There was a Sasha ot Sulem who has been missing for almost five years now. Her age matches the one you have aboard." A holo appeared of a small girl in a pretty blue dress. "Her family home was destroyed in a Mandalorian raid, right after the Mandalorian Wars ended. All but she were found dead. She has been believed dead."

I looked at the picture. It could have been any young girl. But it could also have been Sasha. "She must have family. I will drop her off before we continue-"

"That you will not do. The mission must come first. Do you believe, as Bastila does, that she can be trained in the Force?"

I looked at Bastila. "She can be trained, but frankly can three Padawan handle what a Master must do?"

"You must handle it. Events move quickly, and Dantooine might become a target. People have been here searching for you both."

"I understand, Master."

"Good." The holo faded.

"Your orders?" Bastila asked.

I considered our mission. The closest of the planets we needed to investigate was Kashyyyk. However there was Mission's brother and Bastila's mother to consider. "Set course for Tatooine."

Enroute to Tatooine

Mission

When they told me about Sasha, I thought, great! Someone to play with! Then Danika told me that Sasha had slipped aboard, and was almost wild.

That could be a problem. There's a little feline type critter on Taris... Was a little feline type critter on Taris, called a Velet. I saw a Velet kit that had been separated from it's mama, and tried to coax it into coming with me. Griff had sort of chuckled at that. The idea of me having a big furry friend and a little one had amused him. But I had given up after about three hours.

Danika was a lot more patient than I was. She had come back aboard after Yavin, and somewhere on the station she had gotten a big tub like they use for cleaning machine parts. After scrubbing it out, she had set it down in the cargo bay. Then she had run hoses from the water line in the cargo hold and filled it.

I heard splashing, and went to look. First thing I learned aboard was any noise out of the ordinary, like free standing water say, can be a danger. Danika was in the cargo hold, stripped to the waist, washing herself with just a washrag and soap. I can't tell really what a human considers attractive. Her chest was bigger than mine but nowhere near Lena's. When she moved I could see muscles rippling. Man how long did it take to get muscles like that?

"Is the 'fresher broken?" I asked.

"No, Mission." I'm trying to coax Sasha out to bathe. I felt it would convince her if she saw me doing the same." She loosened the chignon her hair was in, and ducked her head, picking up the shampoo. I hadn't considered that a human had to wash their hair separately when they wash. Me I just scrub everything, and my Lekku get done as I do. Humans can make even the simplest things more complex. "Mission, how are you with a needle and thread?"

"Me? What do you want? A wound sewed closed?"

"No. All Sasha has to wear are rags. I want to alter some of my clothes to fit her. It wasn't like there was anything to be had on Yavin."

"Well if that's what you want, leave me out. Maybe Zaalbar can help."

"Ask him for me."

I did, and came back. He'd never worn clothes, and didn't understand altering them any more than I did. Bastila was meditating, as was the Cathar woman Juhani. Carth merely shook his head. Canderous scared me, so I was afraid to ask him.

She took it well. She had dried her upper body, and had stripped off from the waist down, scrubbing her legs. I heard a sound, and there she was, this little slip of a girl moving toward Danika. I didn't say anything, and Danika seemed to be ignoring her.

The girl growled at me. I could see her attacking me like an animal. "Sooka-fro majik?" Danika said. The girl looked at her. "Toka amkris Mission Vao."

The girl looked at me, and seemed to settle back. "Ch-aka Borode, Mission Vao."

"What does that mean?"

"I talked to Canderous. She speaks a dialect called Goodar among the Mando'a. Common on only one continent. I asked her if she thought you were a danger, and told her your name. She replied, 'I see you, Mission Vao'. That group's way of saying hello when you first meet someone."

The girl was creeping closer, and Danika looked back at her. "Brakeesh!" She pinched her nose. "Wata nu zooka!"

The girl sniffed herself, then came closer. She dropped her clothes with no sense of modesty. I hissed when I saw the weals on her back, the bruises on her arms legs and chest. She was only half my age but someone had beaten her badly several times from the look of it.

"Mission, ask Juhani to give you a small med kit. I don't think we're going to convince Sasha to climb voluntarily into a Bacta tank any time soon."

I ran to get it. I wanted to shoot whoever had done that to a kid myself. When I came back, Danika had gotten Sasha into the tub, and was scrubbing her down. As she did she made comments, some of them rough, some chiding as she scraped dirt and grease off her. I came back in, and for a moment I thought Sasha would bolt. But Danika whispered to her, and the kid settled down. She opened the med kit, and as she washed the girl, gently began treating her injuries. There wasn't a lot she could do for the bruising, but the whip and belt marks were coated in synthflesh. She began shampooing Sasha's hair as I went to get a set of clothes from Danika's locker.

When I came back it was like they had gone out and gotten someone else to fill in for Sasha. With the filth washed out of it, Sasha's hair was a reddish wheat-gold that reached almost to her waist. She was still thin but the last few days had been good at filling her out. Danika started to braid her own hair, and Sasha held some of her own to look at while she did. When Danika was finished, Sasha touched the tight weave of hair, then put Danika's hand on her own with a questioning sound. Danika turned her, and began weaving Sasha's hair as she had her own.

When she was done, she turned the girl around, looking her over. Then Danika handed her the tunic. On Danika it reached to her upper thighs. On Sasha it was a knee length dress. Danika tightened the belt, rolling up the sleeves until Sasha's hands stuck out. "Mootifoos?"

"Kajat." The girl said, rubbing her hands down the cloth then looked up questioning. "Sho-te?"

"Ya."

The girl hugged herself, delighted. Then she bolted past Danika, scurrying back into the duct.

"Well that was a failure." I said.

"No, Mission it was not. I can speak to her, I convinced her to take a bath, and she let me treat her injuries. It is a good beginning. Never decide you have failed until you have tried everything."

"More Jedi wisdom?"

She looked at me with a slight grin. "No, that is Danika 101."

Enroute to Tatooine

Danika

Things went much better than I might have hoped with Sasha. She accepted all of the female members of our band, and even seemed enthralled by Zaalbar. But if either Carth or Canderous came by she went into her bolthole again until they had left. There had been a small crystal figurine I had found on Yavin station, and I had given it to her when I got back. She was delighted with it, and carried it with her as if afraid it would be taken away again.

With the initial help of Canderous, I was able to pick up her language more readily, and she was able to tell me her story. She remembered 'the wonderful place' where she had lived with two people obviously her parents. Then the Mandalorian raiders came. She had heard explosions, screaming, and her father had told her to run. She had tried, but a Duros had brought her down with a stun gun, and she had been taken to a camp in one of the many caves on Dantooine. There she had been thrust into the arms of a woman. Her life there had been misery from that point on.

Angry men slapping her if she cried because she wanted to go home, the desperate arms of the woman that had become briefly her mother. Though still too young to understand the reasoning, she had been assigned to help the women in maintaining the camp. Feeding the men when they returned, cleaning and cooking. The woman that had hugged her had disappeared during the intervening years. Sasha didn't know what had happened to her, but men had come, and they had locked a collar around her neck and dragged her off. There were other women, but they had disappeared as the first one had over the years until it had been only her and three older women. At least older than me from what she could tell.

Then things had changed. A Mandalorian and three Duros had left, and not returned. Then it happened again. This time it was two Mandalorian and three Duros. The loudest of her captors had taken all but one Duros, and left. They had also not returned. This had been the only time in all their captivity that all but one had been gone, and the women used it.

The women attacked and killed the last Duros less than an hour after their departure and fled. Sasha had been left alone. She had heard them speaking before the fight, and while she hadn't understood the Basic they used, had felt maybe it was because the women thought she was a child of the 'Manlorey'. That she was Mando'a.

She had run as well, and scavenged for a day. Then she had come upon a building. It had been a supply depot manned only by droids. They had been loading a cargo lifter, and she had broken into a box and found manna from heaven, more food than she had eaten at any one time in years. She had dumped a lot of it out, making a place where she could hide, had gorged until she was full, then slept. She had been terrified when the crate had been loaded onto a lifter, and had lay frozen until the movement stopped. Finally she opened it, she had been aboard the ship.

Three days into the voyage to Tatooine we were settling down to dinner when everyone hushed. Sasha was standing there in the hatchway, holding her figurine, watching us. Her eyes strayed to both Carth and Canderous as if she was unsure if she should even try to join us.

Canderous stood, then bowed. "Motben salik." He said. The girl slowly came forward, and huddled up against me.

"You honor us?" I repeated in Basic.

He shrugged. "The raiders dishonored so many. I may die before I repay everything they have done. This one is among us, and if she were among our people or on my homeworld, I would adopt her into our clan, and give her every honor to repay even a tithe of that pain. If she has any remaining family my clan would beggar themselves to reunite them. It is our way."

Sasha ate with us from that point on. She still stayed out of arm's reach of the men, but began following the women about to see what we did. But at night she slept in her den. Mission had crawled into the ducts while she was with me one day, and my heart almost broke when she told me what she had found. Sasha had taken cargo pads and made a rough bed, the blanket and pillow I had given her neatly folded atop it. She had taken small items we had not missed to make it more comfortable.

Two nights later, I awoke to find her huddled against me. She came awake, and whimpered. In a soft whisper she asked "Mata?"

"Sho." I whispered. "Danika."

"Laesfra." She whispered, snuggling closer.

"Yes, you're safe here." I went back to sleep with that small form in my arms.

She grew stronger in the Force. One time I came through the cargo bay, and she was sitting in imitation of me when I meditated. Before her, even with her eyes, the figurine danced. She laughed with delight. She watched the Jedi among us practicing, and I saw her trying to imitate our fluid movements. Later she snarled when I brought out a remote to practice against. I discovered that her captors had used remotes with their weapons set on the most painful setting they had without killing to guard their prisoners when they slept. She would touch our lightsabers, and I could see the yearning in her eyes. She wanted to learn how they worked so that no one would ever hurt her again.

I caught her that evening with one of the lightsabers I had retrieved on Dantooine. She had activated it, and was reaching for the blade with wonder in her eyes.

"No, Sasha." I said. She flinched, and I flinched as well when the blade came within a millimeter of cutting her hand. I clucked my tongue, and she opened her hand allowing me to take the lightsaber. I went to the other cargo hold, and used the workbench to convert it has Master Vandar had. I showed her that this blade would not cut, but would hurt. From that day on, she began practicing with a lightsaber.

We all rotated in teaching her the ways of the force. Bastila taught her meditation, Juhani how to move things and honed her innate ability to move without being noticed, I taught her the physical skills. She picked up hand to hand combat readily. Partially because the Mandalorians had practiced while she watched, but mostly for the same reason. I was here, and she understood that any aboard would protect her. But she had an urge to protect herself.

We were a day out from Tatooine when it happened.

I saw a cave opening, large enough for the Ebon Hawk to dock in. I walked through it. A body of what had once been a Jedi sprawled to one side, and I mourned his passing as I walked by. The back of the cave held a few pitiful remains of an alien people's glory. A statue of a species with eyes set on stalks out of the sides of the head lay trampled by some great weight. Pillars had been pushed aside and cracked.

In the center however, lay the star map we sought as if it had been installed that very day and artfully coated with dust to fake it's age. I walked toward it, hand out as if to touch it. Behind me I heard a deafening roar. I turned-

-I snapped awake. Sasha was curled against me in what had become her customary spot. I had tried once to bed her down with the other women, but she returned to share my bed. I kissed her gently on the head, and drifted back to sleep.