Chapter XIV – Flight to Quesh

A hard banging suddenly jolted me from a deep sleep. As my mind drifted up from the depths of subconsciousness, the banging sounded again. "Hello, is anyone out there?" I heard a voice yelling. It took me some confusing moments to realize where I was and focus my eyes. A soft chiming repeated in my ears, a sound I recognized but struggled to understand. When I tried to move my body, pain like electric shocks burst through me. The intensity of the pain snapped me the rest of the way into consciousness. I was in the scout ship, searing pain radiating from my shoulder and side reminding me of the events the night before.

"Are you alive out there?" I heard the padawan yell as she banged on the bulkhead again.

Slowly, agonizingly, and with an audible groan, I straightened out in the chair. "Computer, unlock the bulkhead door," I moaned hoarsely. Every part of me hurt, every muscle was sore, my mind ached from last night's Force strain and horrible dreams, and my soul ached from having to share its place with dark spirits. I tried to sit up, but my body decided against it, forcing another groan from my lips.

"I was worried," Ashara spoke as she came up to the cockpit, "it's been over eight hours . . ." Her words were cut short as her face appeared in my vision. "You don't look so good," she added, concern edging her soft voice, "is there anything I can do to help?"

I was horrified, angry about my condition, yet hopeless to alter it. "Meds," I mumbled. She nodded and disappeared from view. I fought painfully to get into a sitting position and set the chair upright, humiliated to be so debilitated. I wished that I were alone rather than exposed to someone else. There were rummaging sounds in the cabinets, and then Ashara came back to the cockpit carrying the med-kit.

"What do you want me to use?" she asked as she pulled out a tube of anti-bacterial cream.

"No, painkillers," I snapped as I shook my head.

"I don't understand any of the labels," she complained, "I thought the Empire spoke Basic?"

"Give it to me," I urged harshly, the pain making me short-tempered. She set the opened box in my lap, and I rummaged through the hypo-syringes for the most potent drug I could find. I struggled to load the cartridge, and Ashara leaned in to help, but I elbowed her away. I put one shot in my side and another on my shoulder just outside the bacta-patches, then added a third shot in my thigh.

"That's probably enough, right?" she said nervously and reached for the instrument. I was going to pull it away from her, but her hands grabbed mine, and the contact made me look up into her face. She was concerned for me, and her touch was comforting, but then the dream last night filled my memory, and I grew uncomfortable. I broke eye contact and looked away. She took the hypo-syringe from my hand, put it into the med-kit, and took the kit back to the cabinet.

I glanced out the front window and realized that we were sitting in a high orbit over Nar Shaddaa. I had overslept by more than two hours. Luckily, the autopilot engaged and took us out of the heavy inbound traffic, putting us in a stable high orbit. The soft pinging noise was a message in the com, and I slowly leaned over to see who it was from before activating the playback. It was Andronikos' hyper relay with the new jump coordinates. I opened the message and started the download. The file was not very large; he must have only sent me a sector of data. The nav computer began uploading the data, and I took the opportunity to go to the restroom.

Ashara watched me approach with a worried look as I moved slowly, like a hundred-year-old woman. I reluctantly admitted that the third shot of pain killer might have been unwise, given how my head spun dizzily. After relieving myself, I splashed water on my face to clear the sleep from my mind. The drawer under the little counter contained some mouthwash and tooth cleaning items, so I refreshed myself and straightened my hair. The padawan was eating at the kitchen counter when I moved back into the main cabin. I reached past her for a nutrition drink on a shelf in the cabinet and winced when I stretched. Ashara extended her arm over me after noticing my difficulty, and got several bottles down, handing me one. Silently, I took the bottle and went to the captain's chair.

The navigation computer had completed its upload and showed new hyperspace routes in yellow and red. I found Quesh in the holo-map and chose a route that dropped us on the far side of the planet from regular approach traffic, engaged the route plan, and listened to the engines ramp up for another jump. The nose of the ship swung toward a dark region of space, and within moments we were in hyperspace again.

Ashara slipped into the copilot's seat with a drink in her hand and looked over at me. "We entered hyperspace again?" she asked.

"Yes, a little over seven hours to Quesh."

"Will you be recovered in time?" she asked nervously.

"I'll be fine," I grumbled. The concerned look she was giving me told me she was not convinced. "I'm trying to get to them before there is trouble," I added in irritation.

"What are you going to do with me? Wouldn't it make more sense if I helped you?"

"No," I countered. "We've had this conversation. I don't trust you, and I don't want my focus split between you and the mission."

Her face turned harsh. "Why did you bring me if you are going to treat me like a prisoner?"

I paused, our eyes searching each other. How could I explain things to her when I did not have the answers myself? "I have to admit that this situation has me confused. I think you can help me . . . you did help me with the Sith ghost on Taris . . . and the other ghosts seemed to think . . . well, forget the ghosts. I don't know what I'm trying to say."

She seemed frustrated. "I should have run away in the ruins," she mumbled, "when you told me to."

"Probably."

"I thought . . ." she offered, and then paused. It was her turn to feel confused. "You seemed to know me . . . like you cared . . . and you helped call attention to Master Ryen despite the danger to yourself." She stopped then, eyes still watching me. I was not sure who she was trying to convince with her words.

"Those points are correct."

"I didn't want them to find you because I thought they wouldn't understand and try to kill you. That's why I ran after you."

"And I rewarded your empathy by capturing you and forcing you onto my ship." I saw the accusation in her eyes. "Fine, be mad at me. I didn't expect you to thank me."

"What did you expect?"

"That's a good question," I replied, my voice tinged with frustration. "My life is chaos and danger at the moment. I think you can help me, but at the same time, you are a complication, and I am putting you at risk. My dangers have become yours. I guess what I am saying is that my mind is not made up concerning you."

"You could have just let me go," she sighed.

"You could have left when I told you to."

We both sat in frustration, staring at the swirl of hyperspace and listening to the high-pitched drone of the engines. The stubborn part of me felt it was hopeless; that I should dump the padawan off as soon as practical.

"My life is ruined!" Ashara grew emotional. "I will never become a Jedi because of this."

"You don't know that."

"You said it yourself," her emotions turned on me, frustration, anger, and pain swirling in her eyes. "They will never trust me again, not after what happened."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't trust me either. No one trusts me!" She broke down then, unable to control her emotions.

I sat awkwardly, unsure what to do. She was right about me not trusting her, and it was my fault that she was at odds with the Jedi. The idea that I had made someone so distraught struck me. Faced with the fact that my actions had consequences I decided to act, not wanting to be a monster like those who hurt me.

"Ashara," I said softly, "I will help you become a Jedi."

"What?" she mumbled through tears.

"It is my fault that we are in this position, and if it will make it right, I will do what I must to see that you complete your training."

My words seemed to settle her a little, "how are you going to do that?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly, "but I want you to know that I will try to make it right. I don't want to be your enemy, and I don't want to hurt you."

"Thank you," she sighed, still trying to regain control of her emotions. "I don't want us to be enemies either."

I felt awkward sitting in the cockpit with the padawan, so I got up and decided to shower. I disrobed and tossed the pajamas on the bed before stepping into the privy. I put the temperature up as high as I could and hoped the sauna-style heat would work some of the fatigue out of my body. The pain medication was still making my head feel groggy, but I tried to meditate while letting the warm mist soak me. I found my thoughts drifting over the events of the last few days, and I began to think about Delba Company and Lieutenant Brand, wondering if they were okay and whether they were pulled out of Crater Command Bunker. After a long time in the shower, I shut the water off and activated the dryer, feeling dry air rush in from jets along the walls. Once everything but my hair was dry I shut it off and slid open the privacy panel. There was another pair of pajamas in the drawer so I put them on and headed back to the main cabin. Ashara was working on the kitchenette counter as I stepped through the bulkhead. She had found some MREs and had one in the prep oven.

"I was hungry," she replied as I stepped up to her.

"Me too," I agreed, "do they have anything good stocked in there?"

"I'm not sure if it's good, there seemed to be only one type of meal in the cabinet."

There was, it was the standard Empire-issued meal with some processed protein, an indecipherable type of green vegetable for minerals and fiber, and a mashed sort of tuber for carbohydrates. We warmed up the meals and sat down at the small table to eat.

"This tastes horrible," Ashara complained.

"It's not to my liking either."

Despite our opinion, we were both hungry enough to eat.

"Was the shower nice?" she asked to make small talk.

"I suppose if you can get over the claustrophobia-inducing size of the stall. Clearly, this ship was not designed for a pleasure cruise."

"No," she agreed.

"I put our clothes in the cleanser," she said as she pointed to the humming appliance in a space below the counter. "I found a few things in your bag as well; I hope you don't mind." She looked at me a little concerned, but I just shrugged. "I left out your cloak and shirt, the ones that were damaged. I figured it wouldn't be good to wash them."

"Thank you," I replied.

We sat in silence for a moment, eating our food. I sorted through my feelings, wondering if it bothered me that she went through my things. Glancing up at her, I noticed she was eying me. We both averted our gaze back to our plates. It did seem a little presumptuous to go through my bag, but if the roles were reversed, I could see myself doing the same. That thought made me realize that the padawan had no bag to be sorted through. She was interrupted in her nightly walk and swept from the planet without collecting any of her personal effects. It was no wonder that she was focused on washing her things, considering she only had one outfit to wear.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked.

"A little. The drugs helped, though I'm not thrilled about taking them."

"You seemed eager to have them when I gave you the hypo," Ashara replied.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You would too if you felt the way I did."

"Do you think it was absorbing the ghost that made you so weak? Why would it do that?"

She was full of questions. "I'm not sure. I'm still a little fuzzy on the whole apparition thing. It has affected me before, but not this bad."

"Why are you doing it? Especially if you don't know what will happen?"

I paused and looked at her, unsure where to begin or even if I should. "Knowledge and power are the reasons; for survival. I'm not strong enough to defeat the man after me, and there is no one I can count on for help."

Ashara watched me with her curious green eyes. "Do the ghosts give you their Force powers?"

"Not directly. I have access to their Force essence since they are inside of me, making my connection to the Force stronger. There is the unfortunate side effect that they can sometimes rise up in my consciousness and help me use the Force or sometimes do it for me. The benefit is that when they use a Force power that I am unfamiliar with I can learn from them, developing my skill more quickly."

"You mean they can control you?"

"On rare occasions, that has happened, but I try like hell to prevent it."

Ashara looked revulsed by the idea; the nature of her eyes changed from curiosity to concern. "I can't imagine wanting that, even if it did make me more powerful."

Her tone irritated me. "It wasn't something I planned or desired," I countered, "it sort of presented itself as my only option." The conversation bothered me, so I got up and started cleaning up our food.

"I'm sorry," Ashara replied as she got up to help me clean the table, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just trying to understand."

"It's okay," I sighed, "it's just a difficult subject to talk about."

"Who is this man who wants to kill you?"

"Darth Thanaton. Sadly, I hardly know him. He was my master's master."

"Your master that died?"

"Yes. He did not like her very much, and his disdain has cascaded to me."

"I'm afraid I don't understand the concept of killing people on the same side as you. The Jedi don't do that sort of infighting."

"Yes," I agreed, "it is probably the greatest weakness of the Sith."

"Is it the power of the dark side? Jedi teachings suggest that the dark side cannot be controlled; that it ultimately dominates those who give in to it." Her words were as much a question as a statement, her curious eyes watching me closely. I had a quick rebuttal on my tongue, feeling that the failure of the Sith was more to personal weakness than destiny, but I hesitated, knowing the darkness within me and the sway it wielded.

"I'm sorry, have I said too much again?" she added, recognizing my discomfort.

"You have a way of boring into the heart of subjects," I complained as I stepped away to the cockpit to check on the ship.

"Master Ryen used to complain about that; he said I never seemed happy with a simple answer."

I looked over my shoulder at the padawan, who was standing by the kitchen counter with a thoughtful look on her face. "How did he deal with your impertinence?"

"It's not impertinence," she protested.

"Maybe that word is a little too strong, but you are dancing along the edge of the term."

She gave me a little smile. "My masters would tell me that; 'in time, you will know the answers that you seek.' It always annoyed me when they said that, like they were simply brushing me off."

"It is a wise answer," I replied, looking away from her at the control panel. We still had over six hours before arriving at Nar Shaddaa, and I wondered whether it made sense to sleep some more.

"I'm going to shower," she stated, her voice expressing that she knew I did not want to talk anymore.

I would not have minded talking more, though it was not my nature and she chose subjects I was unwilling to elaborate on. Despite my distrust of her, I was more comfortable being around another girl. Maybe it was an artifact of my past, but I had difficulty being relaxed around men. It is not that I feared someone like Andronikos; the padawan was more of a threat to me than the captain. I felt at odds with most men, like I had to justify or somehow explain everything to them, and I sometimes struggled to understand the way they treated me.

Ashara felt different. First, there was the shared knowledge of the Force and our training. Second, she thought as a girl; what man would have put clothes in the wash for themselves, let alone someone else? Finally, there was the sense that we were looking at things in the same way. It made me sad that I was not able to form female friendships before. As a child, I was surrounded by older women, most of whom were trying to survive like my mother. As a teenager, there were only a couple of girls my age at the master's plantation, and they were experiencing very different lives than I was.

The Sith Academy was no place for forming friendships. The acolytes were pitted against each other, and you dared not trust another deeply. I made some acquaintances, but no relationship went deep enough to be considered a friendship. My nature was that of a loner, so lack of friendship did not really bother me, but being around the padawan and sensing the possibility of friendship revealed my loneliness. I never really opened up to Andronikos, and he never showed any interest. The droids were just machines, and Khem Vaal was a monster I would never consider a friendship with. Lord Zash seemed different, treating me fairly and even complimentary at times. It was hard not to like someone who treated me nicely. Now, of course, I knew why she was befriending me; to prepare me for the ritual and to steal my body. It was a bitter pill to swallow. One that I was still not over. Part of me was determined never to let anyone close again. I sat in the cockpit, staring at the swirl of hyperspace, and pondered what would happen next.

Kaal and Corrin stupidly attracted Darth Thanaton's ire and were now hiding on Quesh. I queried the ship's computer about Quesh and was provided an ample flow of other grim news. Quesh was a poisonous planet, broken and almost lifeless from a cataclysmic mega-quake that tore the planet to its core centuries ago, killing nearly all its indigenous flora and fauna. The Republic realized that the poisons oozing out of the planet's mantle were similar to chemicals used in the production of adrenals, and they appeared to have other pharmacological uses. So they invested in mining and research on the planet to take advantage of the resource, but could not work through the intricacies of the neurologic, neuromuscular, and cardio-respiratory biochemistry. Much of that knowledge was illicit through the development of stims and recreational drugs. So, the Republic turned to the Hutts, who were deep in the history and production of illegal drugs, to help monetize Quesh. Several of the Hutt families, led by Broga Masrii, Jeelta Urdosh, and Portho Kaltemmic, stepped in to ostensibly help the Republic, but it was evident to everyone that they were really in it for the money.

The Empire became aware of the operations on Quesh and dispatched elements of the Third Imperial Assault Fleet and the Rhelg Division to counter the Republic and Three Families' plans. The conflict had been raging for over six months, with neither side gaining the upper hand. The stalemate was primarily due to the Treaty of Coruscant and the unwillingness of both sides to pour more resources into the quagmire. Significant portions of the developed areas of the planet had been abandoned or destroyed, and violent attacks were being carried out daily by both sides. I could only assume that Kaal wanted to use the conflict to shield him and Corrin from Imperial retaliation. They likely decided to hide out in an area controlled by the Three Families or the Republic. The problem was that any rescue mission to aid my apprentices would have to contend with all three powers fighting for control of the planet. Everyone planet-side would be hostile to me as I attempted to reach them.

After contemplating that information, I got up in frustration and went to get something to drink. Ashara had finished her shower and was casually walking around in the bedroom, unconcerned about her nudity. Her red skin was mostly uniform across her body, darkening slightly in areas like down the spine, but absent the striping on her montrals or lekku. Ashara looked over at me, and I glanced away to finish rummaging for my nutrition drink. I had to admit that I had a strong preference for humans, and seeing her full Togrutan figure felt strange. Glancing back toward her, the thing that caught my eye was the features around her head; the strange horns, or montrals, on her scalp, the striped lekku dangling down her front, and the broader yet shorter head-tail that went down her back to the middle of her shoulder blades. I absently drifted a hand up to curl fingers in my black hair, wondering what it might be like not to have any.

The padawan turned to look at me again, and instead of turning away awkwardly, I met her gaze and even walked toward her. "Did I take the last pair of clothes?"

"You did," she agreed, opening one of the drawers to reveal some bedsheets. "The cleanser should be done soon."

"We will have to stop and find more personal supplies soon," I replied while looking down at the grey-colored pajamas I was wearing. "Walking around in sleep clothes is comfortable but not very practical."

Ashara pulled a thin sheet out of the drawer and wrapped it around herself like a toga. "I don't mean to be a burden."

"I only have one outfit to wear as well," I continued. "All of my things are on the Intrepid."

"The ship that was following us to Nar Shaddaa? Does it have a large crew?"

"No," I could not stop the smirk from forming on my lips, "and calling it a crew is quite a stretch."

"Why?"

"Well, only one is human. The rest are droids or monsters, and then there is my . . . Never mind."

"The human is the Captain?"

"Andronikos, you heard me talking to him."

She nodded. "Where are they now?"

There she goes with the questions, again, I thought to myself. "They were going to stay at Nar Shaddaa until I contact them."

"Oh," she replied thoughtfully as she turned and began to fiddle with her things; the lightsaber belt and overcoat that she had worn on her walk.

"We're not going to rendezvous with them. I didn't want to wait any longer to help Kaal and Corrin."

"Okay," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at me while looking through her coat pockets.

I left her in the bedroom and went back to the cockpit to think more about my plans. It was not but a few minutes later that I heard Ashara gasp behind me.

"Something is moving in your bag!" she exclaimed as she hurried towards me.

I looked over my shoulder at the counter and saw my black satchel shifting back and forth. My eyes drifted to Ashara's and then back to the bag. She had been through my things earlier; had she not seen anything unusual in there? I wondered. Then I heard a faint clicking sound.

"Pez," I said aloud as I got up and headed toward my bag.

"What's Pez?" Ashara asked nervously behind me.

I flipped the bag open, and the little droid rolled over to look up at me, his red eye small and dim. "Bleep," he toned softly.

"You're alive," I replied, not sure whether I was excited about the fact. I heard his little thrusters puff softly, but not enough to elevate him. "Don't stress yourself," I said as I reached in and lifted him up.

"What is it?" Ashara asked as she came up next to me.

"It's my personal droid," I replied, setting Pez on top of my bag facing us. "He took a blaster bolt to the face on Taris, and I thought he was broken beyond repair."

"Click-tweep," Pez added softly.

"Yes, because you disobeyed my orders - again. I should have left you in the rubble."

"Beep-duooh," Pez mourned. "Beep-beep, click-buzz," he added to his defense.

"No, it wasn't heroic. You were supposed to stay and protect the lieutenant. Instead, you raced off straight into a blaster bolt."

"Are you arguing with a droid?" Ashara asked with a slight smile on her face.

"Exactly," I replied, "droids aren't supposed to argue, or disobey orders." I looked back at Pez to glare at him.

"Bleep-twibble-twarbble-zip-buzz," he responded.

"I know you raced off to distract the defenders and tried to help, but I didn't ask you to."

"Click-warble-buzz-beep-duooh."

"I appreciate that you didn't want me to get hurt, but you still disobeyed me."

"How do you make any sense of all of those noises?" Ashara asked.

"It wasn't easy," I replied, "nothing about that droid has been easy. We've been together for a few years. I've just learned his language over time. Why the maker didn't put a voice annunciator in him is anyone's guess. Yet another Pez enigma."

"I think he's cute," Ashara said, looking down into his blurry red eye.

"Dweep," Pez chirped at the padawan.

"Don't encourage him," I complained as I walked away towards the cockpit.

"He still doesn't look so well, should we do something to help?"

"A cyborg and mechanic couldn't figure him out yesterday; I doubt if there is anything I can do."

"I think he's trying to get into the sink."

"Do what you want with him; I don't care." I sat down in the captain's chair and looked out at hyperspace. I heard Pez's thrusters puff with a rush of air, followed by a clank.

"Oh my, he just fell in the sink," Ashara exclaimed.

"Bleep-chirp-click-click-warble." Pez's voice sounded muffled and echoey from the bottom of the sink.

"What did he say?" Ashara asked in a concerned voice.

"He wants the water on," I replied, unable to comprehend how I became the annoying droid's interpreter.

"Won't that hurt his electronics?"

"He's watertight, at least based on experience. Besides, the little bother asked for it."

"You don't have to be so mean," Ashara said as I heard the water start washing into the sink.

"Why? It's not like a droid has feelings."

"You don't know that," she insisted.

"Really?" was all I could think to say in reply. Actually, I had no idea how droids were programmed, I was not that tech-savvy, and I certainly had no idea about the inner workings of Pez. He did not act like any droid I had ever interacted with, but I chalked it up to incompetent coding rather than feelings.

Pez let out a stream of gurgly sounding tones. "What does that mean?" Ashara asked for an interpretation.

"He wants the water hot and needs electrolytes," I replied in annoyance.

"Electrolytes, how do I give him those?"

"Bleep-zwip-click-click-deep," Pez replied.

"Salts," I answered before Ashara asked, "he wants you to pour salts into the water.

I let Ashara rummage around and try to help the little droid as I closed my eyes. It was not just the aching wounds that bothered me but the fatigue in my soul due to the presence of the ghosts and the Force-walking. Luckily, the fatigue helped keep the ghosts from welling up into my consciousness, and it kept the dark thoughts in my ugly core tempered, but it also gave me a sickening malaise that I could not seem to shake.

"He rolled over the drain, and the water is rising," Ashara said nervously, "do you think I should stop it?"

"If he stopped up the drain, then I assume he wants to be submerged."

Inside, that sense of foreboding was beginning to build in me again. Whatever was going to happen on Quesh, I knew that it would be difficult. Maybe Andronikos was right; I began to wonder. Maybe I should leave the apprentices to their fate and find somewhere to hide for a while. It certainly did not feel like I was capable enough to help anyone.

"Bubbles are coming out of the droid," Ashara said as she shut off the water. I heard her come up behind me, "I hope I didn't drown him," she added when she sat in the copilot's seat and looked over at me.

"You did what he wanted; if it breaks him, then it's his own damn fault."

"Aren't you worried about your droid?"

"That thing has been a pain in the ass, and I thought he was scrap a minute ago. So, no, I'm not worried."

"Why would a droid be a pain in the ass? Aren't they programmed specifically to help?"

"Right?" I responded. "That is the question I've asked myself since the moment I bought him. It boggles the mind that someone actually programmed the thing to operate the way it does. As if it was intentional."

"I don't understand what makes you so dislike the droid."

"Hang around long enough and you'll find out."

"Are you feeling okay?" Ashara asked as she got up and came over to the counter next to me as I finished drying Pez off and set him on top of the towel on the counter.

I looked over at her, "why?"

"Actually, you're walking kind of stiff and have an uncomfortable look on your face."

"The drugs are wearing off a little," I complained, "and I still feel tired. I need to rest some more before we reach Quesh."

"Is that from the ghosts?"

"I'm not sure," I replied in irritation. I saw her eyes searching me, analyzing. It was annoying to admit that I did not know what was ailing me, annoying that I was not feeling well, to begin with.

"Shouldn't you recover before you go into conflict again?"

"If we had the time, that would make sense, but the apprentices are in danger." I paused to think about Kaal and Corrin, feeling sorry for them despite Kaal's recklessness. "They saved my life," I added in a thoughtful voice, "they deserve better than to be left alone in their time of need."

I pulled the med-kit out and opened it up. "I can't rest without some relief."

"Do you think that's safe?"

"I don't know?" I snapped at her. I looked at the hypo-vials in the kit, thinking I really needed more than a pain reliever. Sedatives and anxiolytics were not the types of drugs I liked to take, but I needed something to lessen the strange psychic brooding that was affecting me.

"Shouldn't you check the dosing before you take some more?" Ashara stepped close to me to look at the vials.

"It's been almost four hours," I countered, not used to someone showing concern for me and not sure if I liked it. "Besides, dosing doesn't work right on me."

"What does that mean?" She gave me a funny look.

"It means, nosy, that I've been addicted to several types of drugs in the past, and my system has developed resistances to them." I took out the analgesic vial that we used earlier, slipped it into the hypo-syringe, and put a shot into my shoulder, which hurt worse than the side wound. I loaded a sedative next and gave myself a half dose. It took a moment to put the medicine away, and I caught Ashara watching me nervously.

"You should sleep in the bed this time," she stated softly.

Our eyes locked on each other for a moment before I looked past her at Pez sitting on the towel on watching us. Pez could watch over her now and alert me if she tried to do anything.

"Pez, are you fully functional?"

"Beep-duooh, click-twitter-zip-click-clock-beep."

"Good enough," I replied. He could not levitate yet, but his other systems were functioning. "Do you see the Jedi?" I pointed at Ashara.

"Bleep," Pez affirmed.

"I'm going to take a nap, and I want you to watch her. Alert me on my com if she tries to do anything to me or the ship."

"Dwerp-click," he replied, his red eye focusing sharply on Ashara.

"I'm not going to do anything to hurt you," she complained, following me as I made my way to the bedroom.

"I'm starting to believe that, but I'm not completely convinced."

"Well, I can't pilot the ship," she admitted, "so I'm not even sure how to sabotage it, and if I incapacitate you, I would be stuck in space."

I turned to look at her, surprised by her admission. "You don't know how to fly a ship?"

"Jedi padawans don't go anywhere without their masters," she replied meekly as she scratched her neck, "so it is not considered essential training."

"We shall have to remedy that, eventually." I turned back to the bed, beginning to feel the effects of the sedative.

"I found a mending device stored next to the cleanser. Would you like me to repair your shirt and cloak while you sleep?"

"If you want to," I said as I sat on the bed and looked back at her. She was scratching a spot on her arm, and I noticed some lighter, dry patches on her skin. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," she replied as she stopped scratching and looked away. "My skin has a condition," she continued, her lekku twitching nervously, "it gets dry if I don't put lotion on it."

I laid down on the bed, beginning to feel a little lightheaded. "There might be some in the med-kit?" I mumbled as I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes.

"Not the kind I need," she sighed, "I checked earlier."

"Another item you had to leave at the enclave," I thought out loud, recognizing the difficulty she was having.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Should I wake you?" she asked after a pause.

"No, I set an alarm. I should be up a half-hour before we arrive at Quesh."

"Okay," I heard her say as she left the room, closing the bulkhead behind her.