Mal stretches her legs along the countertop careful to avoid knocking anything off its crowded surface. A pair of interlocking gears spin between her fingers, the rhythm of their clicks a satisfying background noise as she watches Mission and Zaalbar haggle with an Ithorian in the entryway. It's a wonder any of them can fully stand, Zaalbar especially, with the clutter of droid parts and random mechanical bits dangling from the ceiling. Her elbow pokes against a sharp edge and she turns carefully to investigate. Something rusty and dusty with too many protrusions to guess its mechanical purpose.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you."
Mal tucks her hands into her sleeves as Mission hobbles toward her, arms haphazardly full of large cloth bags. She dumps them onto the only stretch of uncluttered surface and claps her hands free of dirt.
"Busy little place you two have got," Mal nods toward the bags. "Not doing anything unsavory are you?"
Mission fists her hands at her hips. "Define unsavory."
"Things I wouldn't approve of."
"That's it?" She laughs brightly. "Then yeah, we're pretty square by those standards."
Mal grins.
Zaalbar peers his head around a haphazardly stacked pile of tools. "Are you planning to travel for a long journey? We can make plans to come with you."
She shakes her head. "Your only debt to me now is keeping Mission safe."
Mission pinches her arm playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Who says I'm not the one keeping him safe, huh?" She turns and starts pulling open a series of drawers, her fingers transferring contents between them. "So how long you staying?"
"I'm only passing through on my way to Dantooine. Figured I'd drop in and see how my favorite duo is doing."
She pauses, turns with arms crossed and an inquisitive stare. "Haven't you been here a few days already?"
Mal raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Why would you say that?"
Zaalbar's low growl vibrates from the far corner. "A human called The Mysterious Stranger recently broke the local swoop race record. Mission placed half of our savings on the bet even though I warned it was a bad idea."
"Really you two," Mal smirks. "That could be anyone. You should be more careful."
"No one else would use that poor of an alias."
Mal opens her mouth to argue but stops herself at the sight of Mission's knowing grin.
"You sure you don't need anything?" Mission prods.
"Only if it comes with the family discount."
"You haven't been at the card tables again, have you?"
Mal sighs. "Mission, there comes a time in everyone's life where we must accept our strengths and our weaknesses."
"Oh, so you finally admit Pazaak is yours?"
So they've decided it's 'gang up on Mal' day. She turns and squints at a diagram on the wall beside her head. "Heard anything from Griff?"
Mission shakes her head at the dismissal. "Not yet. I'm sure once word gets around, he'll eventually come crawling around here." She pauses, then meets Mal's eyes with an earnest gaze. "You don't have to worry. I've made my peace with who he is. I won't let him take advantage of my kindness."
A bloom of pride spreads through Mal's chest. She takes that feeling of warmth and tucks it away into the stockpile of precious memories.
"That's my girl."
"There you are!"
A long shadow grew across the surface of her book. She glanced up in annoyance at the young boy frowning down at her.
"You do know you can't pass without me? It's a partnered assignment."
That was what their teachers always said, but this wasn't the first partner or group she had abandoned while managing to complete the assignment anyway. This one, this gangly boy with his soft face and too-earnest expression, had proven harder to shake. He huffed a deep breath and sat across the table from her. She pretended to be engrossed in her book and counted the seconds until he would leave her alone. She made it to a hundred before he spoke.
"Is that a new one? I haven't seen you reading it before."
Her startled expression quickly settled to a glare.
"I see you in the courtyard. Mistress Hanora says you're always bothering her for a new one."
That made her frown deepen.
"No, not in a bad way!" He waved his hands, flustered. "She's very happy you like them so much."
If she had to guess, the old librarian was the one who told him where to find her. Fine. It was time for a new hiding spot anyway.
He stared at her as if there was something he needed to say but wasn't sure how. Stupid boy, he'd piqued her curiosity. She flipped the page of her book and wondered what believable amount of time she could spend pretending to read before flipping it again.
"I draw!" he finally burst out. She slowly brought her eyes back up to meet his. His cheeks were tinted pink, but his expression was proud. "I'm not very good yet, but I like to practice. It makes me happy just having the freedom to draw whatever I want no matter how it turns out. It's a good spot. The courtyard where I've seen you."
She watched him blankly, unsure what sort of response he expected from her.
"We could go there now. To work on the assignment, I mean. And maybe… well, you could read there, and I could draw. After we're done."
"I'm cursed," she blurted out.
He looked shocked for a moment before bursting into laughter. Why was he laughing?
"I mean it," she insisted. "Stop trying to get close to me or you'll die."
His eyes hinted at an intelligence beyond his young years that she hadn't noticed before.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. But everyone dies eventually, right? I've decided to live the best way I can. Doesn't that sound better than spending your life afraid?"
Something about his sincerity plucked at her temper and endeared her at the same time. Foolish. She had come to this place to become a Jedi, not for the distraction of companions. But she could also tell from the strength of his smile that he was determined not to let her be. She closed her book with a heavy thud and stood. He watched her go as she walked toward the door. She paused and stared back until the realization dawned on his face and he stood to run up beside her.
"I'm Alek," he offered with a smile.
She hid her own beneath a scowl. "I know."
"You're restless."
Mal's eyes remained glued to the dilapidated courtyard. Several of the trees in the Jedi Enclave had survived the bombing of Dantooine. While the built walls around them crumbled and burned, their roots held firm in the dirt. Their twisted branches and thick trunks, the keepers of many enclave memories, remained alive to tell the tale.
"I wondered when this day would come."
Mal glances back and is surprised at the knowing look Bastila gives her. "What day?"
Bastila comes to stand by the window, her gaze resting on the grassy patch before them. "I had a feeling once you first started recovering your memories that you might try and retrace your steps. Go back wherever you had disappeared to after the war. That you might finish what you started."
That stings more than Mal expects. Her smile stretches wide. "My dear Bastila, haven't I proven myself? I've thought about this for a long while now. I wanted to be sure I was making the right choice. One I wouldn't regret. Do you believe in me?"
"Of course I do! Please don't misunderstand. I'm not implying that I don't trust you." Her hands tighten into fists on the window's edge. "But won't you let me come with you? Or any of the others? Your friends want to help."
Ah, so that's the reason. She doesn't want to be left behind. "Not this time. Not after Malak. I can't risk it, not again." A sharp determination punctuates Mal's voice. "I won't repeat my mistakes."
"At least take the droids with you," Bastila pleads.
"Sounds like you don't appreciate HK's company."
"I'd appreciate him a lot more if he didn't insist on using that word all of the time. He even said it to Master Vandar of all people last week."
Mal cracks up in laughter. "I'd give up all my credits to have seen his face. Fine. I'll take the droids if only to give you some peace and quiet."
The worry eases slightly across their bond, but it doesn't vanish. They stand side by side enjoying the slight breeze and stewing in their shared sense of melancholy.
"Well?" Bastila breaks the silence with an inquisitive glance. "What secrets do the Force whisper to you now?"
Mal turns away from the view and leans conspiratorially toward Bastila. "None, I'm afraid. The more memories I gained, the less I could see. The future is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. Which is why I need to see this through. Malak and I," she catalogues the flinch Bastila gives at his name, "we saw what lurks at the edge of the abyss. What we did as Sith, the way we played with dark powers is nothing compared to what's waiting out there."
Bastila sighs and a sweet sorrow permeates the air. Mal watches inquisitively as Bastila slips her hand into her robes fumbling with something bulky and oddly shaped. When her hand emerges, Revan's mask appears with it. The sight of it arrests Mal into frozen disbelief. She watches Bastila carefully as she sweeps her fingers over the mask and tilts it toward Mal. An offering.
"Promise me…" her voice cracks. She clears her throat and tries again. "Promise me you'll be careful."
Is this one final test after all this time? Is the Jedi Council hiding behind the corner waiting to spring out and catch Mal in the act, ready to decry her as an agent of the dark side? She tears her eyes away from the mask to check Bastila's expression. Her bright eyes are tender but encouraging. Not a trap then. Mal reaches out hesitantly, an image of the mask crumbling to dust upon contact embedded in her brain. But it's sturdy. Solid. The real article.
She traces the embedded grooves with her fingertips and steadies her breathing. "I promise."
Bastila squeezes her wrist. "Liar," she whispers affectionately.
A genuine smile pulls at Mal's lips as she turns the mask over in her hands. This used to be her second skin. Another border between her and the rest of the galaxy. An icon of hope, leadership, and later on, fear. The inside is still smooth and cool to the touch.
"Keep it." She wraps Bastila's hands around the mask and squeezes them tightly before forcing herself to let go. She isn't sure which one of them the relief comes from. "I don't need it. Not anymore."
The promise sworn on that mask has been kept. There are new promises, new lives to protect now. Mal's not yet sure what transformation she'll endure for this new journey, but it's one she's determined to create without a crutch from the past.
"Where is he?"
"And a good afternoon to you as well."
Confronted with his calm smile, she halted her frenzied pace and took a breath. "Master Zhar, please. Where is he?"
"His ship was attacked on its way back to the temple, presumably by raiders. We're waiting for them to make contact." He gave her a knowing look. "You know I can't send you after them."
She kept her expression neutral. "I didn't ask you to."
"You are not as skilled at hiding your emotions as you'd like everyone to think, my young student. Do you not believe in Padawan Alek's capabilities as a Jedi?"
They were wasting time. Every moment of back-and-forth banter was another moment he could be dead or dying. Yet she would get nowhere like this and she knew it. "Of course I do, Master."
"Then trust in that belief and in the Force."
She'd bit her cheek, but it wasn't enough to stop her from asking, "…And what if he's not?"
"Then what would you do?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I would go save him."
"You would let passion override common sense? Jump in without thinking?"
"Of course not."
He surveyed her with a warm expression before clasping her hands in his. She was his shining star, a revered pupil. And she begrudgingly acknowledged that while he indulged her in most things, it seemed he was determined to make this a lesson.
"You have both proven yourselves as capable Jedi even before coming to Coruscant. There are great futures awaiting you both, but you must open yourself to trust. Trust yourself. Trust your friend. Trust the Force to guide you both in your times of need. Yes?"
"Yes, Master."
"It is alright to be concerned, but do not let that feeling grow into fear. I suggest you go meditate while we wait for news."
She gritted her teeth and nodded. Yet as she turned to leave, she paused at the door feeling his next words in the air before he could say them.
"If we decide rescue efforts are needed, I will request permission to have you join the retrieval squad."
She tilted her head in thanks before walking through the door. Only when she was several steps down the hall did she let the smile creep onto her face. He never could tell her no in the end. Now the question was how long would the masters shuffle their feet before agreeing to a rescue operation? She took the prolonged route back to her room giving her more time to move and think before being enclosed in privacy. At the foot of her bed, she settled down onto her knees and closed her eyes.
It was happening again. She should've known better, should've worked harder at pushing him away. Instead, she'd let him trail after her. He followed her around the library, picking up books at her recommendation, tucking little scraps of drawings into the pages for her to find later. Insufferable. Before she'd known it, he was always there. Her partner in training, in missions, in what little down time they shared. He had wanted to be her friend and she had finally found someone who understood her. It was too good to be true. She was cursed after all; this world would not let her be anything other than alone.
She threw the intrusive thoughts away as they came and let the building anxiety swirl together until it slowly drained from her mind. So be it then. Maybe it was nothing. He was a Jedi after all, almost as skilled as she was. He would either survive or he wouldn't. That was his destiny to reckon with.
The swift whoosh of the opening door jolted her out of her meditation. She stared wide eyed as he stood in the flesh before her, his arms bracing his sagging frame in the entrance.
"You're alive!" she sputtered like an idiot. She'd been so focused on pushing the thought of him from her mind that she hadn't felt his familiar presence approach.
He laughed, the fool, and a rush of relief flooded her veins. "What else would I be?"
"Excuse me," a small voice politely interjected. He turned to reveal a frantic droid shuffling behind him. "Now that you have reassured your friend, I really must insist on taking you to see a medic."
It seemed whatever had fueled his momentum gave out as he dropped to his knees.
"Alek!" She was there in a breath, steadying his shoulders before he could fall on his face. "Troublesome," she muttered low enough for only him to hear. He gave another small laugh.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily."
Her fingers dug into the fabric of his robes as she stared down at his lopsided smile. Death had not claimed him. Here was one strong enough to survive. Her eyebrows set in determination.
"Good."
Mal ducks under the arc of Juhani's blade and responds with a quick combination of side strikes. Juhani smoothly redirects each hit until it feels like they're dancing more than dueling. Their fluid movements across the training room floor make Mal laugh in delight.
"I hear you'll be a Jedi Knight soon. Congratulations."
Juhani pulls herself away only to launch into a series of offensive attacks. "It is only a possibility at the moment. I have not passed my trials yet."
"You will," Mal smirks as the speed of their movement increases. "I know you will."
The sharp smack of their training weapons is a thunderous beat Mal uses to guide the rhythm of her feet. She feints to the left, but Juhani knows her too well to fall for it. They lock blades one last time before pushing off. Mal catches her breath and nods her concession to Juhani. She nods back and the spell is broken; they both melt down to the floor on jellied legs. Mal's not sure how long they've been going at it, hours perhaps, but she knows her body will be deliciously sore tomorrow.
"What will you do after?" she prods.
Juhani wipes the sweat from her eyes before answering. "I feel as though I still have much to learn. Lessons that can only be taught by experience. I would like to revisit some of the places from our travels. Perhaps offer my assistance in healing their wounds."
"As long as it's your choice to leave. Don't let anyone scare you off."
She tilts her head in confusion. "I am not sure what you mean."
Mal rolls onto her side and lifts herself up to meet Juhani's eyes. "I know they can be critical of past decisions, but no matter what they say you are a Jedi. You've tasted both sides of power and made your own choice. Wear it as a mark of pride, not shame. Be honest and let your experiences assist those who fall behind. They need guidance just as much as the shining stars do."
Her responding smile is achingly sweet. "Of course. You do not need to worry. The challenges I have overcome are mine alone. No one else may judge me."
"Good."
These days Juhani carries herself with an assured calm that any master would be envious of. Mal can't help but to take continuous glances at her as they clear away the training equipment and walk through the halls. The Jedi Temple of Coruscant is still as polished as it was the first time she had stepped across its floors with Malak at her side. It invokes a sense of nostalgia and though she is loathe to break the feeling, the words she's come to say weigh heavy on her tongue as they approach their parting point.
"I am happy you came to visit me. Although, a selfish part of me wishes you would stay longer." Juhani's smile falters at her expression. "But you did not come just to spend time with me."
"I did," she starts slowly. "For selfish reasons of my own. But there's an apology that's long overdue and I would regret it forever if I couldn't face my fear of disrupting your peace to give it."
Juhani is clearly confused but nods her assent.
"The man who confronted you on Korriban, the one who claimed to have killed your father, is dead. I had HK-47 kill him before we left the planet." Mal waits for Juhani to interrupt. Her expression is one of open shock, but she remains silent. "I'm not sorry that I did it, but I am sorry for hiding it. You'd already made your decision. And while I respected and encouraged it, a part of me wasn't willing to risk it happening again if he followed through on his promise to find you. I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to take that away from you."
Juhani turns her head away. They're standing next to an indoor fountain, the carefully placed rocks and plants an almost jarring contrast to the sterile halls of the temple. Her gaze is fixated on the bubbling water for a long moment before meeting Mal's eyes.
"No, it was not your place. Though I will not hold it against you." She sighs and lets the tension fall from her shoulders. "I had a feeling that something had happened and that you might have interfered somehow. Still, I kept up my guard waiting. I was almost hoping that he would attack and give me permission to enact justice in the form of violence. But that moment never came and I had to make my final peace without knowing why. Thank you for telling me."
Mal waits for more, but there is none. Juhani has said her piece and her easy forgiveness twists Mal's gut in confusion. "I don't know if I'd be as kind as you are right now."
"We are still growing after all and we will continue to grow. Our story does not end here. Was that the only secret burning a hole in your heart?"
She chuckles dismissively. "I'm built of secrets. It would take an extra lifetime to unburden them all."
"Hmm." Juhani doesn't fall for the bait, her eyes assessing. "And do you feel at ease now knowing that I am doing well and can handle myself if circumstances change?"
Did she know of Mal's plans? Had Bastila let her secret slip too soon? Mal saunters in close and tilts her head in amusement. "Forgive your anxious friend her worrying. I miss the days when I could reach you by walking down a hall."
"Well, I remain comforted knowing that if something terrible were to happen, you would come save me." The way Juhani says it almost makes it feel like a question.
"I'm comforted knowing that you're strong enough not to need me to." The bravado slips from her voice only a moment, but if Juhani notices she chooses not to comment. Mal reaches for her hands and grips them tightly with a warm smile. "Good luck on your trials."
Juhani squeezes back with unfiltered affection. "I will see you again soon," she promises.
Mal watches her walk away until she disappears around the corner with one last look behind. The nearby fountain empties out into a small waterfall that cascades down to the floor below. Mal follows it to a railing overlooking the lower hall where clusters of Jedi casually walk about on their way to fulfill mundane tasks or attend trainings or gather with their peers. They feel indescribably far away from where she stands. It's as if she's watching them through a fragile bubble ready to pop at the slightest disruption of her hand. What had it been about Coruscant that charmed her so long ago? It now holds too many memories to be anything but a burden. A sudden prickling awareness rolls up her back.
"Vrook."
"Revan."
She turns to face the permanent frown that is Master Vrook Lamar's face. The full force of it hasn't been directed at her since that unbearable stretch of time spent in front of the council following the events of the Star Forge. He regards her now with the same force of suspicious discontent.
"What brings you here?" Always sharp and straight to the point.
"Old friends, nothing more."
"Juhani has turned out well enough without your influence. What is it that you want from her?" And he's in a confrontational mood. Of course. Otherwise he would've kept walking.
"Did you know, Master Vrook," she squares her shoulders to face him. "That out of all the council members, it was you I held the most regard for after discovering my identity." A hint of cautious surprise touches his features as she continues. "I'm sure it wasn't inspired by any kindness on your part, but you're the one who came closest to telling me the truth during my amnesia. Laying bare all the council's secrets in plain sight. It almost made me respect you."
His frown settles more firmly in place. "Combative as usual, Revan. You were always too arrogant to see the full picture. I remain by my decisions as well as my judgements as far as you're concerned. True atonement can only be accomplished if the person is in full context of their offenses."
Who's the arrogant one now? She gives him her sharp-toothed smile. "I'm not seeking your forgiveness, Vrook. We both know I can't bring your lost students back from the dead. Their lives will forever be on my hands."
"Then what is that you want?"
She pauses before declaring, "To be left alone."
The sound he makes in response could almost be called a laugh. "I don't believe that for a second. You can't help but push yourself to the center. To remain relevant. Your pride won't allow it."
"That's between me and my pride, isn't it? Everything else you'll just have to take my word for."
"No, I don't." With one final look of judgement, Vrook leaves her as quickly as he'd found her.
What a perfect reminder of why she chooses to avoid this place and the council. All the times they hummed and droned on about Revan's redemption, they never considered it was her forgiveness they needed to earn.
"Some scars run too deep. Believe it or not he's hurt because he also cares for you, in his own way."
Mal swallows away the unpleasant thickness in her throat and turns to Jolee with a wry grin.
"You're still here? I did warn you how good they are at suckering people into doing their dirty work."
The corners of his eyes wrinkle in a way that thaws her insides from Vrook's frozen assault. "Ah, leave me be. I'm not ready to head back to my solitude just yet. How are the Wookies doing? I heard about your little rescue mission tracking down the ones that got shipped off as slaves."
"I'm sure you did. The council wasn't exactly thrilled, but they didn't try to stop me. Kashyyyk is still swatting away Czerka's hands, but Zaalbar keeps them well supplied for the fight."
"I take it he hasn't returned to claim his rightful place then?"
"He's there when they need him, but I don't think he's ready to leave Mission alone yet." Mal points a finger accusingly. "You'd know all this if you'd just learn how to use the holovid system she sent you."
"Blasted technology! I can't keep up with it," he grumbles. "You know, back in my day—"
"Yeah, yeah. Forget I asked."
"That's a lot of sass for someone who was going to leave without visiting her old travel buddy. I'm not getting any younger you know!"
"I know, you bag of bones. I was about to come find you before I was so rudely interrupted."
Jolee grunts in acknowledgement. "Go on then. Ask me."
She raises her eyebrows in question.
"Don't bother acting coy with me. You never come see me unless you want to barrage me with endless questions or pick away at every detail of my life. So go on and ask what you want to know."
Mal crosses her arms and leans back against the railing. There's no real contemplation because the words have been circling in her head for months now but still, she draws out the moment until she's ready for the answer.
"Was it worth it?" He stares at her unblinking. She continues on. "Coming along with me back then. Was I able to keep you entertained? Did you get your grand answer?"
"Did you?" The classic Jolee redirect.
"How could I? I don't even know what the question was."
"You'd be surprised how often we already have the answers before we even know what to ask."
Mal groans. "That's it, I'm busting you out of here before they hear you spouting nonsense and suck you into the council."
He laughs heartily. "Would that really be so bad?"
"I'm sure the marriage rates would skyrocket in less than a month."
"Might make them less ornery." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Mal chuckles then shakes her head. "No, I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing. Though it might make me like you less. I prefer you as you are."
"I could say the same to you. Maybe it's because I have the benefit of not knowing you from before. Regardless, you as you are right now," Jolee stares at her meaningfully, "… is enough. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise."
She could hear him taking careful steps through the minefield of books that entrenched her within the workshop. His familiar presence brought a bit of peace to her agitation. She waited for him to break the silence while she kept her hands busy and covered in grease.
"I heard about what happened."
"I'm sure every life form capable of communication heard what happened." She glanced down at the diagram once more before jamming the plating into place.
He let her work in silence for a moment longer until his heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder. She sighed and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. She hated how he towered over her these days, the knowing smirk on his face not doing any favors to her mood.
"Even the great Revanchist is allowed to make mistakes," he intoned gently.
She scoffed and turned back to her tools. "My mistakes cost lives."
"You're not alone in that. We all hold the responsibility of our actions and the ripples they create."
She waved him away in agitation. "Leave the preaching to the Masters. I don't need to hear their words spoken in your voice."
He sighed lowly before squatting down beside her. "What are you making?"
"Alek, meet Hunter-Killer 47."
"Where did you learn to make an assassin droid?"
Stone faced she gestured sweepingly to the books littering the floor.
"Ah, I see." He tilted his head in thought. "47?"
"Perfection takes practice," she grumbled.
"Easier to understand that about droids than it is yourself?"
"I'm really not in the mood for a fucking pep talk."
"Of course not. You want to wallow in self-pity as punishment."
"No, I want to finish building my droid without you distracting me with platitudes." She used the Force to reach out for a hydrospanner, but he snatched it out of the air as it flew towards her.
"What would you have done differently?" he asked casually, as if he couldn't sense her rising ire.
She tugged on the Force harder and the tool shot from his hand to hers. He let her work in silence, building to an answer in her own time. Finally, she sighed.
"I wouldn't have shown mercy. I would've killed the scouts instead of threatening them. Do you remember what we promised each other when this all began? When we left the Jedi Order?"
"We decided that we would do whatever it takes to defeat the Mandalorians."
"No," she whispered. "That wasn't it. We said we'd do whatever it takes to defend the Outer Rim and protect the Republic."
His bright eyes watched her carefully. "I thought we agreed they're the one and the same?"
"That's just it! What happens after we beat the Mandalorians? How long until someone else pulls the same stunt? How long will peace really last before there's another war?"
"However long we help them keep it. The Republic's lost without us."
Her eyes cut to his and she knew he could glimpse the burning frustration she'd been bottling up since the war began. The passionate sense of justice that burned through her veins, the desperation to save the people on the Outer Rim.
"Whatever it takes, Alek. I mean it."
He held her gaze without wavering. After a long moment, he finally nodded. "Whatever it takes."
Walking through the heavily populated Republic command center has Mal on edge. A soldier could turn to her at any moment and say, 'Hey aren't you…' or slap a pair of holding cuffs on her wrists and toss her into detainment. Not that she would let them do any of those things, but the point is that they could try. However, none of those things happen. They all nod respectfully as she keeps pace at Carth's side.
The role of command fits him well. There's an air of measured calm that's replaced the frantic energy she's grown used to. For all he's been through he looks at peace, and that makes her happy enough to burst. Or to smack him across the back of the head for good measure, humble him in the eyes of his crew. Mal stifles a smile while imaging their shocked faces if she were to give into the impish urge that has her fingers twitching.
"Mission says you're leaving."
Ah, so they've all been talking about her. She should've known something was up after her conversation with Juhani.
"Mission's too observant for her own good."
He checks her expression from the corner of his eye. "So it's true?"
"Have you heard from Dustil?"
"Now you're changing the subject."
Mal stops in her tracks and narrows her eyes at him. "Do you trust me?"
Carth sighs and stops to face her. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He mutters something she can't hear and shakes his head. "Dustil's fine. He's still insistent on traveling around to clean up Sith messes, but when he's done… it'll be good to sit down together. To talk things over. I got him in touch with Mission. She promised to keep tabs on him."
"Oh, so I'm not the only one you have her spying on."
His grin holds its familiar cheekiness. "I've got to keep a step ahead of you one way or another, honey."
Respectability and politics be damned, she smacks the back of his head. The looks on his crew's faces are even better than she imagined. "You know I like to keep you on your toes, Admiral." She mocks a salute. "I'm glad Dustil's alright."
A communications officer approaches, cautiously eyeing Mal's feral grin while handing Carth a datapad. Mal's eyes instinctively fall upon the screen before Carth tilts it away and smirks with a shake of his head. She frowns but respectfully looks away into the sea of command consoles and crisp uniforms to wait as he reads it over.
It's strange to imagine them standing on opposite sides of the war. How many of his comrades has she killed? How many more did she seduce away from the Republic to die under her command? How many bereaved family members inhabit the ship she currently stands in?
"For what it's worth…" she pauses to choose her words carefully. "I'm sorry about Telos."
He's caught off guard. Carth doesn't look at her, but his face shows exactly what he's remembering in this moment. His wife dying in his hands, his son presumed dead, his mentor leading the charge on the attack. All committed under the name of Revan. She really is a glutton punishment.
"You don't have to—"
"I do," she insists. "I should have said it a long time ago. I'm sorry."
Carth pockets the datapad and meets her gaze. "It's worth a lot," he finally mutters. "I… I appreciate it." He looks at her with a sudden urgency, as if attempting to capture the moment before it slips away. She stares back in wide eyed alarm.
"Wherever you go, Mal, come back to us."
He says it with such sincerity it sends a chill through Mal's shoulders. They really aren't going to make this easy on her, are they? It seems they've whispered among themselves and collectively chosen to grip tighter as she slinks away. Her cherished fools. Her beloved companions.
Mal gives him her softest smile. "Keep the Republic safe. Make sure I have something to come back to."
"General," she commanded one last time. "I release you from your duty."
It was like staring into the heart of an imploded star. Impossibly deep and empty. No, that wasn't the right comparison. Even a black hole had more to it than this. One of her brightest weapons unimaginably transformed. It was… interesting. A puzzle that only time would unravel.
"You shouldn't have let her go."
She remained silent and kept her eyes trained on the retreating figure. He hovered behind her right shoulder.
"There can be no room for sympathy anymore. Anyone who doesn't choose us, chooses death."
"She's already dead. Let her go teach the council one final lesson about this war. We have a Star Map to finish."
At that, she turned to face him. His eyes swept across her mask before settling on her eyes. She never told him, but the way he looked at her often made her forget the mask was even there. "Do you feel any regret?"
He shook his head. "This is our destiny. Revan and Malak, leading the Republic to a brighter future."
"Even if we have to drag it by its unwilling hands," she added.
"We'll have plenty of support from those who see it our way. After all, we're the ones who defeated the Mandalorians. We brought peace to the galaxy. No one else."
"How does it feel for you?" she whispered. He leaned in close. "Victory?"
His answer was immediate. "It feels… freeing. To prove them all wrong. To embrace our true power. Like a veil has been lifted from my eyes and I can finally see the whole picture of what I'm meant to do. And you?"
She hummed in thought as her gaze swept across his face. The paleness of his skin was marred by the dark shadows under his eyes and the bright yellow of his pupils shining out above. She knew her own face held similar marks along with every new scar collected from battle. The darkness had crept into them so slowly she hadn't really noticed how much they had changed until now. Still, it was too late to turn back. She was determined to follow this path through and use it to climb unimaginable heights no matter the cost.
"It feels…" she tilted her chin up in determination. "It feels like the real work begins now."
The cantina owner has poor taste in music, but at least it plays loud enough that they can't be overhead from the booth in the back corner. Mal rolls a nearly empty glass between her palms, the sparkling purple liquid swirling around the bottom. She eyes her companion curiously before speaking.
"Have you discovered your purpose yet?"
Canderous's eyes glint at her from across the table as he leans forward to rest his elbows on its dingy surface. He's been surprisingly quiet all night, as if already aware that humoring her request to see him is only a cover for something more thrilling. It had to be Mission who told him she was coming. The girl really is too observant for her own good, even as the thought fills Mal with pride.
"What do you really want to ask me?"
She twists her lips into a smirk at his impatience. "Did you mean what you said? Back at the Star Forge?"
He grunts in acknowledgment. "I'm your man until the end. We haven't reached that end yet."
"There's something I want to show you." Mal lets her gaze wander across the crowded room cataloguing the location of all its inhabitants for the fifth time that night. Old habits, old paranoias. "Will you come with me?"
"Lead and I'll follow."
Her smile grows sharp. "You're not going to ask me where?"
"Doesn't matter where."
"What if I took you to the edge of a star, opened the docking doors, and told you to jump out?"
His blank stare makes it clear he's not impressed. "Loyalty isn't the same thing as idiocy."
She laughs at that. "You're no idiot, just a Mandalorian."
"Is that supposed to insult me?"
"No. It's a fact. You are a Mandalorian and from the moment we met I wanted to rip your throat out with my teeth."
Canderous leans closer with that dangerous spark in his eyes. "You shouldn't say those things."
"Again, that's not a challenge but a fact. Try to keep up."
"That's a challenge in more ways than one." He gives a sudden sharp laugh. "You're kind of an idiot yourself. Nice to see even the great Revan has their faults."
"I don't know what you mean," she rumbles low in her throat. "I'm fucking perfect."
"Of course you are." He eases back in his seat, amused. "So then, where are we going?"
The dregs of Mal's drink are body temperature now, but she puts the glass to her lips and swallows it down. Reconciliation versus betrayal. The future versus the past. This isn't a decision she's come to lightly. Would Malak laugh in her face if he could see her now? Would he understand the careful calculations she's weighed to reach this point? Would all those she fought so hard to avenge forgive her this one indiscretion, this one friendship she refuses to lay to waste?
"We're going to set you back on your path. To do something I never thought I would do." Canderous watches her bright eyed and patient. She sits up tall. "To give the Mandalorians a future."
"You seem pleased with yourself."
"I've accomplished a great feat. You should be proud."
"What's there to be proud of? You blatantly ignored my plans only to orchestrate one of the sloppiest messes I've ever seen."
"You dare call me sloppy? For months you've done nothing! You've been content to sit idle waiting for our enemies to roll over to your demands. My actions gave us results!"
"You gave us nothing! Nothing but public sympathy for the Republic. Nothing but proving them right when they call us senseless murderers. And for what? What do you have to show for it? What good does a dead planet bring us?"
"Revan—"
Her hand shot out lightning quick and grasped his chin. "Do not 'Revan' me. I am your master, and you will address me by my proper title."
The air chilled thickly around them. They were teetering on the edge of something irreversible. She stood frozen waiting for his response, for him to make the first move, to smoothly redirect her temper as he always had. He knew his place at her side, but she was the one to lead the charge. She had grand plans to be followed, a vision for the future. He would bend his knee and stare up at her with that unwavering faith he always held. They would mend this fracture into something stronger.
None of that happened. He wasn't looking into her eyes anymore, but at the surface of her mask. How long had it been since this second skin solidified between them? His eyes pulsed with a defiant hatred she had never seen directed at her before. She squeezed harder.
"Then you will not speak at all."
The Force burrowed into his skin until it gripped the thick bone of his jaw and with hardly a twitch of warning, she wrenched it with the full strength of her anger. A loud crack punctuated the air. There was something guttural about his screams, as if he had been reduced to a wild beast calling out into the night. He crumpled to his knees, eyes rolled back to the whites as his hands instinctively tried to cradle torn flesh, but every move seemed to amplify his agony. She stared from the protective distance of her mask as he choked on his own blood until she finally waved a timid soldier over.
"Escort Lord Malak to his chambers. Do not send a medical droid until I allow it."
A momentary wave of regret pulsed through her as a group of soldiers began attempting to lift him. Maybe she had been too rough. The weight of many eyes watching her pressed close against her skin and the emotion quickly bled away. He had been slowly pushing her to this moment using their closeness, their bond, as a weakness. Now he had disrespected her for the entire galaxy to see. She'd chosen the stage for this confrontation intentionally; the most public area of the command ship. Whatever their past, whatever history they had overcome together, he had to be made to see.
No one escapes the consequences of their actions.
"You ready, T3?"
"Mission not present - Rest of crew missing - Ship too empty - Must gather companions."
Mal frowns as she translates T3-M4's catalogue of noises into comprehensible language. "No, they can't come with us. Their destiny is here. This is where they'll be safe."
The droid seems unsatisfied, whirring quickly in response. "Absent for extended time - Did not tell destination."
"If you're that worried you can stay behind."
The aggressive barrage of beeping is all the answer she needs.
Mal sighs in understanding. "I know, little one. You'll just have to trust me that this is for the best. What about you, HK?"
"Declaration: Master, I refuse to let you leave me behind again with those pretentious Jedi meatbags." The rust-colored droid has his volume set to the highest level. "You will be forced to strip apart my processors to prevent me from following you."
"Okay, okay!" she laughs heartily. "No need to be so dramatic you two."
HK-47 settles down with one last glowing glare. "Statement: As long as you are aware of my thoughts on the subject and my commitment to you, master. I am ready to depart whenever you choose."
Despite her many arguments to Bastila, she's secretly glad not to be alone in the Ebon Hawk. And there are no other droids she would trust with her life as much as these two.
"All right then," she commands with a terrifying grin. "Let's blast on out of here."
It's settled then. No more unfinished business, no more unsettled debts. The moment has come to trace her way back into the dark unknown, follow the path to the edges of surety until she emerges where it all began. She'd done what had been asked of her, lived a life without barriers regardless of how temporary she knew it would it be. Deep down, she knew it would always come to this. She would never choose differently. The Force calls too strongly to ever truly let her go. And so she answers with a thrill she can't smother at the prospect of danger in the unknown. She had already tried and failed. The worst possible outcome had already been realized and it's this understanding that frees her.
What's the worst that could happen? She already knows.
What's the best that could happen? Now, that's a puzzle she can't wait to unfold.
AN: Holy shit, we made it to the end! I honestly did not mean to drag out posting this last chapter but the sucker kept growing until it somehow became the longest one I've written for this story? Whoops! This was my first fanfic and the first story I've finished from start to end in a long time. Thanks for coming along for the ride!