We were to leave in an hour.

Carth had gone to prep the engines and make sure everything was good to go. Bastila was off somewhere—probably to talk to the Council without me again. Meanwhile, I was left behind to watch our new ship. The Ebon Hawk.

Besides my spare robes and few personal items, the Jedi Council supplied Bastila and I 1,000 credits each to get us around the systems. The only real contribution for our journey other than the many "may the Force be with you"s.

I leaned next to the entrance to the ship with my bag in hand and many questions in my mind. Mostly questions as to why the Council thought this was a good idea. Of course, as was per usual when thinking about the Council, another one of those headaches appeared. Nope, nothing. There was no good reason. Not when Malak was going to be after our hide—particularly Bastila's.

Before I fell asleep standing upright with the tempo of the droids working hard on our ship, a loud screech came from the mech shop.

"Get away from me you bitch!"

A loud slap followed the racket. Mission ran towards the Ebon Hawk and Zaalbar trailed behind her like a bodyguard. Another Twi'lek, pale in color and scantily clad, rushed out of the mech shop after her. I raised a brow at the scene and was going to stay out of that. But I was bored. Butting into some petty drama was better than slothing around like a Hutt all morning.

I stepped in front of the teenager before she entered the ship.

"Erm, what happened?"

"Lena's what happened!" She pointed back at the pale Twi'lek. "After taking Griff away from me, you dare talk bantha poo doo about him behind his back! I'd leave on the next shuttle before I twist your head tails into a knot you core slime!"

The pale Twi'lek stopped a few meters away while rubbing a red cheek. "Look, Mission, I wanted you to come with us, but Griff told me you didn't want to go. I told him that we shouldn't even bother going, but he said we'd come back for you after he made it rich in Czerka's mines on Tatooine. I ditched him two years ago after that never happened." She shook her head. "I'm sorry Mission, I shouldn't even be here—I heard about a blue Twi'lek and thought...well..."

Lena sighed then turned on her heel towards the civilian shuttles.

Mission held up a fist. "Yeah, run away, homewrecker!"

Once she left, the young Twi'lek sighed, lekku dangling. "It can't be true...can it? Griff would have never abandoned me."

I frowned—not knowing what to say for once. Any nurturing I had exploded with Deralia. Eventually, I did find some words.

"So...that was...?"

Mission glanced up at me, frowning. "That was Lena the cantina dancer that Griff met on Taris. It's because of that skank that I don't have my brother anymore. She just batted her pretty little eyes at him and he was sunk butt good."

I sighed, rubbing my face, still not sure if I wanted to deal with a family squabble right now.

"Well...it doesn't sound like Lena thinks that."

She twisted around, glaring at me, pointing at my chest. "If Griff was here he would be defending himself! If you knew anything about him you wouldn't be doubting..." Her face pouted before she sank. "Actually, what she said...might be true. Griff always liked getting into trouble. Maybe he thought I would be safer if I was left behind?" She glanced again. "Hey, Wes? Do you think we could stop by Tatooine to make sure he's still there? I'm worried about him."

A smile grew on my face and I "hummed" as if thinking hard about it. Eventually, I nodded.

"What a coincidence—that's one of our destinations!"

A large smile grew on the teenager's face before dropping. "Oh! But...we don't have to go there just for me!"

I chuckled. "Well, it'll be on the way to one of the Star Maps if it makes you feel better—"

The Twi'lek tackled me with a hug, my chest crushed, lungs suffocating...

"Thank you, Wessy! You really are a pal, you know that, right?"

All of the air finally escaped my lungs. I tapped her shoulder.

"Can't...breathe..."

Her innocent eyes looked up into my paled face before releasing me.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!"

I held my sides breathing heavily.

"Who are you...a Wookiee?"

She looked up at Zaalbar. "I guess Big Z did teach me a few things over the years."

I eventually recovered. "Since you'll be coming with us you might want to get packed...or at least grab anything you've stolen."

"Stolen? Why... I have no idea what you're talking about..." She smiled slyly, batting her eyelashes at me. I crossed my arms then returned the smirk.

"Just tell Carth they were gifts, alright? Otherwise, he'll be hounding my ass..."

She held up a thumb. "Gotcha!"

Mission ran towards the Enclave with a hop and a skip. If only I had her excitement and energy about this journey of ours…

On her way out, she passed a jumpy Cathar who flinched at the Twi'lek's boundless energy. Juhani looked up from her stare down with the floor then smiled once she saw me by the ship. A brand new lightsaber hung from her belt along with fresh robes. It had only been a few days, but she had already recovered from her wilderness jaunts with the dark side.

She stopped before me then bowed as far as she could go without toppling over.

"The Council has requested that I come with you on this journey. I wanted to thank you and...apologize again for the way I acted."

"Damn, right, apologize!" She stood up straight from her bow and gave me a puzzled expression. I waved a hand. "There's no need to be so formal. I'm not a Master you know."

Juhani's face tightened. "It's not that I'm being formal. I must try to not succumb to my temptations again. Somehow, I still see it, still feel my anger. What if I fall again? What if I—?"

"I'm not worried about you doing anything—"

"But you should! If you hadn't saved me from both that river and the dark side then I wouldn't even be here right now. The Council wouldn't have forgiven me and I...never would've discovered that Quatra was really alive."

"Why worry about it? You're here now and that's all that matters."

She paused then a smile cracked her stoic face. "Yes, there is no emotion, there is peace. Of course. You have great wisdom." She bowed again. "You are a better Jedi than I will ever be."

That line sent me reeling over in hysterics. Everyone at the spaceport glanced over at us as I tried and failed to quiet my laughter. But it was just...too ridiculous.

The Cathar's yellow eyes glared at me.

"What is so funny?"

I spoke through chuckles. "Better Jedi—ho—you should hear what the Masters have to say about me. They would definitely disagree with you."

Juhani, however, wasn't amused. "You think too poorly of yourself, Gale. No normal Jedi would risk their life for a...follower of the dark side like I was. I see great compassion within you."

Great compassion? As if. I was probably on the Council's list of Jedi most likely to fall to the dark side including action plan steps on how to turn me back to the light. If they had a list like that...I should start worrying.

I looked off past the Ebon Hawk and decided not to press the point.

"You just need time to get back into the swing of things," I said. "You'll stop stressing about it in no time."

"That's true," Juhani said. "I need to distance myself from my anger. Maybe that's why the Council sent me with you. They think that, perhaps, when I'm in your company I might be able to free myself from it."

Now that really sounded out of character from the Jedi Council—at the very least Vrook. In fact, I thought Juhani was just here as an example for me. But I wasn't going to tell the Cathar that little fact. Didn't want to get my face clawed in after all.

"I'm not that great of an influence…" I muttered. "And I can't watch over you all the time."

Juhani narrowed her eyes. "Then I will have to prove my worth to you, won't I?"

She left after that, carrying a bag that I assumed were her modest belongings, climbing up the Ebon Hawk's incline. Hopefully, I hadn't pissed her off. I met a few Cathars before and all of them had the attitudes of banthas when pissed off. Or at least pissed off drunk...

I rubbed my face as it twisted in horror. This journey wasn't looking up to be the best, really. Included in the roster was a teenage Twi'lek, a quiet Wookiee, an annoying Jedi Princess, Orangy, a now barely functioning droid thanks to that same teenage Twi'lek, and an emotionally unstable Cathar that I reminded myself to keep at least one room away from at all times if possible.

Ha, well all we needed now was a Mando to enhance this completely dysfunctional group destined to defeat the Sith Empire! Honestly, Malak didn't have to lift a finger here. I wouldn't be surprised if we killed each other off first...

And then the Force decided to have a laugh.

Canderous stomped towards the ramp to the Ebon Hawk.

"Whoa, whoa, wait." I followed him until he was halfway up the incline. "You're coming with us?"

The Mandalorian smiled down at me with yellow teeth, cocking his scarred eyebrow.

"You have a problem with that, pipsqueak?"

"Well, no, it's just...you left on pretty bad terms the other day. I thought you already ran off on the next shuttle to hell or worse."

"Are you kidding? And where would I go?"

"I don't know. Find another crime lord, maybe? There are tons on Sleheyron or—"

"And find another Davik? No way." The Mando smirked up at the sky. "I have a feeling you're going to get mixed up in something interesting, and I want to be a part of the fun." He then looked at the Ebon Hawk. "Guess this is it."

I couldn't tell him that wasn't true when it definitely was. Going after the Star Forge was going to be interesting. And dangerous. A Mando's cup of caffa.

I waved at the ship.

"Well, fine then. Make yourself at home. Just not anywhere near our pilot. I don't want us to crash."

He gave a dark laugh then stomped the rest of the way up with dirty boots dragging into the metal.

Eventually, Mission returned with bags filled with her loot of odds and ends, machine parts, food. I shook my head as they rushed up the ramp as if they were burglars running from a heist.

Finally, and hopefully, the last passenger entered the spaceport. Bastila strode towards me with her head held high—appearing like she did when I first saw her in the Republic Navy's spaceport. She was trailed by the four Jedi Masters who walked with just as much pomp if not more so. They stopped before the ramp and gave me those calm, expectant looks.

Master Vander nodded. "Your journey will be difficult, Padawan. The path to the Star Forge will be fraught with danger."

I sighed and looked past them to the port droids. "You think I don't know that?"

My Master—Zhar—took a step forward and met my gaze. He looked as if he was sending me to the grave, honestly. Probably the only Master with common sense.

"Remember what I taught you, Wes Gale," Zhar started. "Remember and I know that you and Bastila will succeed."

I nodded then turned to walk up the ramp. Bastila followed close behind. Only, before I could get halfway up, Master Vrook called out.

"Before you go, a word of warning, Padawan."

I turned. Vrook's expression was grim, dark, guilty—almost as if he was sending a rancor to terrorize the countryside rather than an inexperienced Padawan.

His words were terse. "The lure of the dark side is difficult to resist. I fear this quest for the Star Forge will lead you down an all too familiar path. Do not stray, Padawan, from our teachings, or that path will always be what you become."

I met Bastila's gaze—hoping she hadn't felt my tinge of fear after Vrook's words—before waving.

"Right—got it. Warned. Can we go?"

Master Vrook looked as if he was going to say something else, yet Master Vandar interrupted.

"Go. And may the Force be with you."

It didn't take long for Carth to navigate the Ebon Hawk into space. The rest of the crew dispersed after we entered space without any issues. However, those who were leading this mission, Bastila, Carth, and I guess me as well, hung around the bridge. Because we needed a destination.

I leaned against the metal wall. Bastila swiveled around in the co-pilot's seat and Carth sat back but kept an eye out into the vastness of space.

"We have four planets to choose from," Bastila began. "Any suggestions?

"I have one," I said.

Carth's face soured. "Of course you do."

I narrowed my eyes. "Tatooine. We take hyperspace routes to Coruscant then take the Corellian Run straight there. Cut our travel time to less than a week. Done it before because, well, because of my past occupation."

"Is that really a good idea?" Bastila asked. "The last time we chanced a hyperspace route we were ambushed on Taris."

"That was when we had an entire fleet with us," Carth argued. "Although there are better options. Manaan is much closer and is protected by the Republic. Tatooine is too far and is protected by Hutts and Czerka."

"Tatooine may be remote," I said, "but it's also remote for Malak. Manaan is within his line of sight what with it being the kolto center of the galaxy. He's still trying to conquer and pillage, remember?"

"That's true...I guess," Carth said.

I raised a brow. "Of course it's true. It's true because I'm always right. It's a gift."

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms. "And maybe if someone was actually humble about his insights for once, that would always be the case."

I crossed my own arms. "Who are we talking about here?"

Both Bastila and Carth muttered to themselves as they went about plotting the route to Tatooine.

While they were plotting, I added, "Maybe we could stop at Coruscant for a drink? Find a few pazaak players, check out the Lower City—"

Bastila swerved around in her seat. "A drink? What do you think this is, some party? We don't have time to mess around the surface of Coruscant. In fact, the longer we stay there, the easier Malak will be able to track us to Tatooine."

I waved my hand. "I was kidding, Bas. A joke. Don't tell me you actually thought I was serious?"

I don't think she liked her new nickname for she turned around in her seat again and ignored my jab instead of biting back as usual. Carth was too busy to entertain me, so I left the bridge towards the dorms again.

We took off fifteen minutes later into hyperspace. The trip to Tatooine would take a few days at least. With the Ebon Hawk's infamous hyperdrive, however, I wasn't even sure about that estimate.

Meanwhile, I took the time to make myself at home. I chose one of the many beds in what we unofficially designated as the male dorm room. I threw my bag onto the closest one to the fresher before heading back to the bridge. I took out the few items I brought with me—my lightsaber, extra robes, datapad, my coin, and of course my red jacket. I smiled at the old thing, wondering why I decided to keep it. I wasn't supposed to keep sentimental stuff like that anymore and the Jedi robes were much easier to move around in anyway. Though, it might come in handy if I needed to go incognito.

I threw the thing on the shelf above then slid my bag underneath my bed. I collapsed onto the mattress with a sigh.

And so, our epic journey for the Star Forge began.

"You cheater!"

Mission threw her card down onto the table, crunching her jaw as she revealed her last play. I smiled as I shuffled my deck again.

"Sorry, Mission, but I don't cheat."

"Using the Force is cheating, you nerf herder!"

We were in the main concourse of the Ebon Hawk, pissing away time as we jetted through the blues of hyperspace. Thankfully I remembered to buy myself a pazaak deck before we left or else the entire trip would've been a disaster. Just thinking about the boredom was torturous. I'd rather spend a day with Vrook Lamar than stare at metal walls. It was worse than the Republic prisons, worse than the Endar Spire...

Fortunately, Mission had her own deck, so we began playing a few rounds—bet-free, of course. I wasn't going to waste the only credits I had left in my name to some teenage thief. However, despite only playing for fun, she took every loss personally. She grumbled to herself as she scooped her cards up again.

"Let me use your deck," she said, raising a hand.

"How, exactly, will that help you?" I asked. "You have a better deck than me. It'll only make your situation worse."

"Just let me use your deck, alright!"

I shook my head then handed her my deck, taking hers. Zaalbar muttered something beneath his breath about making sure I didn't finger the playing cards. I glared at him then started another game.

Which I won. Shocker.

Mission growled while slamming her fists onto the table. At that moment, Bastila stepped out of the fresher then glared at us and our "childish games" as she called it. Mission perked up when the Jedi passed our table.

"Bastila, can I ask you a favor?"

She stopped then raised a thin eyebrow at Mission.

"If this isn't important—"

"Can you tell me if Wes is using the Force or not during our game?"

Kriff.

I sat back and shuffled the deck again—trying to bluff a calm exterior. "Oh, come on. Bastila couldn't tell if I was using the Force even if I was cheating. And I'm not." I finished shuffling, pointing the deck at the Jedi. "That and she doesn't care about our 'stupid game'— "

"Sure."

My mouth glued shut. Wait, what?

Mission clapped her hands together as Bastila pulled up a seat beside me then crossed her arms. I pursed my lips then began another deal before I was stopped by the Jedi's raised hand.

"However, I do not know the rules."

I threw up a hand. "One of the most popular games in the galaxy and you don't know how to play? Are you some kind of sheltered Jedi or something?"

She glared at me while Mission snorted a small laugh.

"Perhaps, unlike someone, I prioritized Jedi training over pathetic gambling," she said, pointing at me. "If the Council knew you were wasting time with this stupid game rather than preparing for our journey—"

"Stupid game?" I shook my head. "Really? Pazaak...a stupid game? Now that is an incorrect surface-level judgment. It's strategic yet unpredictable, simple yet detailed. Sometimes, you need to practically if not literally read the mind of your opponent in order to play your next card. It's anything but stupid—"

Before Bastila burst out at me again, the teenager was quick to interject.

"Look, ignore that idiot. I'll tell you how to actually play, alright?"

I narrowed my eyes at the teen.

For the next ten minutes, Mission explained the rules to Bastila who was able to easily pick up the concepts. Meanwhile, I shuffled my deck and stared at a crack in the Ebon Hawk's hull—bored to tears. After Mission went over the role of the dealer's deck, Bastila faced me with that kinrath-pup-look.

"So, you were reading the cards in the deck? You can't just use the Force for personal gain like that!"

I stopped shuffling my deck then chuckled darkly. "Why Bastila, sweet Bastila. Of course I wouldn't use the Force like that. How could you even think that I, an innocent Padawan—"

"Oh please, you're far from innocent."

"—an innocent Padawan, would do such a thing? I swear on my life that I'm not cheating. If you sense me using the Force or, hell, if she wins then Mission's debt to me will be cleared. If not..." I held up my hand. "Pay up."

The blue Twi'lek creased her eyebrows.

"Debt? What do yah mean?"

Wait. She forgot? Damn...I knew some "forgetful" people in my line of work, but did this teenager actually think I'd fall for that?

I glowered. "You know, the credits you promised me when I almost died at the hands of a kriffin' rancor on Taris? That ring any bells?"

Her blue eyes widened at the memory then nodded her head. "Oh, that? I thought you weren't being serious, Wes." She shrugged. "But if it's that important to you..."

"Wait," Bastila was giving me that look again, "you made a teenager promise you credits? How much?"

I sighed while leaning back. "1,000, but it's not like she's lacking them now."

After she sold her stolen goods, she'd be richer than everyone on this ship ten times over. Not that I was going to mention that little detail...

Bastila's face grew red as if witnessing a child break all the dinnerware "It doesn't matter if she has credits to pay. What matters is your perverse greed. Are credits all that you care about?"

I shrugged. "Credits make the galaxy shine, princess." She grew even brighter before her face grew resolved. It was that face—the one that told me she was going to do something drastic. I broke out in a sweat. "Alright, let's get this game on..."

"Yes," Bastila muttered. "Let's."

Sithspit. She looked evil—like a Sith or a Mandalorian ready to gut me right then and there. Hell, she looked like Vrook Lamar and he was worse than the two combined. And the Force bond didn't betray that expression of hers—she was out to get me.

Mission glanced between the two of us, worried—probably—for my safety.

"Okay...Bastila can be the dealer then."

Zaalbar gave the dealer's deck to the Jedi who eyed me evilly as she shuffled. She handed both of us a card—Mission a five, me a seven. The next turn Mission's hand added to a fifteen while mine became an eight. I got a ten the next turn while Mission got a four and, smiling, I put down a one card—calling hold on my nineteen.

Pssh, I was going to win even without using the Force. Just watch...

Bastila coughed. "Mission, I suggest for you to get a card."

I tensed. "What are—you can't tell her anything! You're the dealer!"

"I didn't tell her anything." She smiled at me—with that evil, evil smile. "It was a suggestion."

Mission smirked, brushing one of her hand cards against her right lekku.

"Oh...well then. I guess I'll just take you up on that suggestion, Bastila!" She asked for another card and—to my horror—she earned herself a twenty. If I could flip the nailed-down table, I would have, but instead, I stood and pointed at the Jedi.

"This is hypocrisy," I said. "Complete, utter, hypocrisy!"

"How?" Mission asked. "Isn't Bastila allowed to contribute to the game?"

I growled, muttering to myself, slinking down into my chair. Bastila—although stoic—eyed me like a Sith.

This meant war. War.

So, for my next turn, I predicted a natural twenty in my future. Bastila, however, sensed me using the Force and called me out on it. I raised a hand.

"Got any proof?" I asked.

Bastila glowered before suggesting to Mission that her next card wasn't a good one.

Soon, the game turned into a real battle with cards slamming like bombs and voices rising like lightsaber hums, each turn ending in a tie. Eventually, Bastila got detailed with her "suggestions" and bluntly "guessed" that the next card was a ten or five. That game was the longest pazaak deal I'd ever played once we hit the thirty-minute mark. The cards in the dealer's deck had to be shuffled for the fifth time. Half were bent by the force we used on them.

And yet, somehow, despite the first setback, I won.

I laughed maniacally, waving my winning card in Mission's face. Bastila shook her head.

"What a child..."

I ignored her though. Because I won. And she was a sore loser. I held my hand out to Mission who frowned, taking out a thousand credit chip then threw it onto the table.

"It was a stupid game anyway," she pouted.

Finally, the Force was on my side.

Before I picked up my winnings, Bastila stood and snatched the chip.

"And this..." she said, "is for buying T3."

I jumped out of my seat, cards flying off the table.

"You can't do that!" I shouted. "You volunteered to pay for the droid."

"Did I? Hmm, I must have forgotten to tell you that you owed me half. Oh well."

My mouth remained hanging open, unable to come up with something. My face warmed. Damn, I'm usually so much quicker on my feet than this. Think of something, Wes, think!

She stopped then held out the chip to Mission, dropping it within her blue palm.

"Here Mission. I'm giving this to you—for free. I don't need credits. Unlike the greedy Hutt slug over there." And she left, returning to her—obviously false—Jedi serenity. I cursed, kicking back in my chair, ignoring Mission's smug look.

That woman was insane. Completely. Utterly. Insane.

I brooded for an hour, shaking my head at Mission's suggestion for another game. Instead, I tapped my foot rapidly on the table's legs—trying to mutter to myself the Jedi code.

Ha, like that'll help.

Eventually, I returned to the dorm to meditate. How was she able to break the code so blatantly like that while acting like she had moral superiority over me? It pissed me off. I sighed, finishing my meditation—if it could have been called that. No, nothing should set me off like that anymore. I was a Jedi and anger led to the dark side. I couldn't just ignore warnings like that—not when the reality of the dark side was shown to me too many times. So, I recited the whole Jedi code again before standing—so enthused I was for the great feast of synthesized crap.

The Ebon Hawk had a small kitchenette along with a "dining room" which consisted of three round tables and scattered stools. There wasn't much room there—well, for me anyway since I wanted to stay as far away as possible from the Jedi Meditator. I worried that I would fling insults the next time we bumped heads.

So, I ate in the dorm room—alone.

I finished my dinner and entered the kitchen to dump my remains. Seeing as how the foyer was empty, I decided to stroll around the ship to try and get a feel of where everything was—scouting out the territory. After a few laps, it became evident that the place wasn't actually as twisting and maze-like as it appeared. The halls only made it easy to hide from those who didn't know their way around. Man, if I was a smuggler still, this ship would've been perfect.

Before I headed to the dorms to sleep, something rustled within the cargo hold. I stopped then peeked my head within the large room. A few containers had been opened and some had toppled over. As I went to check out the containers, small footsteps thumped behind me. I turned, trying to sense who it was through the Force.

"Mission?"

I abandoned the cargo hold and peered down the hall towards the garage. I was about to leave in that direction before I spotted an energy bar—part of the emergency supplies—on the floor half-eaten. The bar was neatly opened too, so the culprits couldn't have been vermin. This was a sentient perp.

Before I followed the trail, a girl shrieked.

"Na abds, na abds!"

I rushed towards the screaming in the main hold of the ship.

Zaalbar stood holding a familiar-looking girl in his massive paws. The silent Wookiee let the poor girl back onto the ground. She turned to run but the walking carpet grabbed her shoulders, light enough not to hurt her but tight enough so that she didn't escape. Tears streaked down her face as she mumbled pleas within her strange dialect—it sounded like Mando'a. I had a strange feeling as if I'd run into someone like her before.

The Wookiee growled. "Who is this, Wes?"

I walked up to them then bent down to the girl's level. That's when I finally recognized her.

"You...you're one of those children the Mandos took." I frowned. "Sorry about the Wookiee here. He has this annoying habit of grabbing unsuspecting victims."

"Hey," Zaalbar growled.

The girl stopped shaking with fear as she gazed at me, curious. I asked Zaalbar to let her go and he did, but this time she didn't run off. The poor thing, she looked like she went through a horde of rabid kath hounds.

"Why are you on the Ebon Hawk? Didn't Canderous drop you off?"

Her words were jumbled, however, Mando'a mixed with basic, barely understandable at all. Through the mix, however, I understood one word. Home.

I gazed up at Zaalbar. "She thinks this is her home..."

"You understand her?" he asked.

"Barely," I said. "She's speaking some dialect of Mando'a. It'll take a while to get answers from her."

And I needed answers from her. About Liam. The Wookiee took that as his signal to leave, muttering about not wanting to bother with small children yet again.

I held up the bar. "You hungry?"

The child stared longingly at the bar before nodding her head, blabbering in her language again. Before she took the bar from my hands, I shoved it into my pocket. She growled in frustration. I shook my head. "No, it's just...this isn't really a meal."

I stood and beckoned her to follow. She didn't at first, still afraid, so I turned and smiled down at her. She followed after that. The girl hesitantly waited at the threshold to the small closet space that was considered a kitchen as I opened the synthesizer over the sinks, looking for some food to make in the cabinets.

I held up some greens. "You like vegetables?" I asked.

"Yum?" she asked, perking up.

"Yeah... yum, whatever."

I popped some cabbages and onions in the synthesizer and waited, staring into the glass machine as it began filling. The girl slowly stepped past the threshold as if poking a toe in brackish water to check the temperature.

I chuckled. "I'm not going to kick you out of an airlock, kid. Relax."

However, she didn't understand me as she stared up with large eyes. Just my luck that I run into another language-deficient child. When the food was done, I scooped the goopy substance into a bowl and handed it to her.

"There you go, eat up."

She eyed it as if I gave her Gamorrean crap.

I huffed, crossing my arms. "I know—I'm not a cook. It's either that or nothing."

"Mesh...duraa," she said in what sounded like a disgusted tone.

"It will be gross if you say it is. Prison food is what's gross. And, what do you know? Thieving stowaways like you go to prison."

When she heard my dark tone of voice, she raised her hands to cover her face.

"Yooba na abds!"

She said that before. "Na abds?" I asked.

Peering between her fingers, she nodded her head. Saying the phrase again, she mock punched her face, shaking her head.

"Na...don't? And abds...is hurt? Don't hurt me?"

Sasha nodded her head.

I frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to eat. Those bastards probably starved you to death."

However, she didn't appear as if she understood.

After an awkward silence, I realized I hadn't given her a spoon. I threw open a drawer and shoved a spoon within her bowl. I crossed my arms, waiting for her to start eating. When she stood there with the bowl, I sighed. Grabbing her bowl from her hands, I led her to the table, pazaak cards still strewn on the top. What a mess. I placed the bowl down, motioning her to sit with it. She started eating minutes later.

I sat there for an hour as she slowly ate the synthesizer crap. Meanwhile, I began to learn her broken language. From what I could understand, her name was Sasha and she had been abused as a slave for years by the Mandos. After we rescued her, she stowed away on Canderous' speeder and ended up following him to the Ebon Hawk. When I asked her about Liam, she shook her head, saying a scary man named Czerka took him to Tatooine for "a bounty."

My heart grew cold. Czerka Corporation was known for their shady business practices—selling Wookiee slaves for example. But I'd never heard of them getting involved with bounties. And why did some unknown slave boy like Liam have a bounty in the first place? Unless he wasn't actually a slave and had been held by Brejik in order to exchange him for that bounty. While it was convenient that I could continue to try and rectify my mistake on Tatooine, I doubt searching for the boy would be easy while also searching for this Star Map.

I sighed. "Sasha, why did you follow us?"

She looked down into her bowl.

"Yooba...yooba manlorey abds. Yooba manlorey kyllor."

I strained with what she said. "I...hurt the Mandalorians? I—kyllor?"

She looked down below the table at my lightsaber. I looked back up in realization. "Kyllor...kill. I killed the Mandalorians."

Of course. She saw my "distraction." That's why she smuggled into the Ebon Hawk—she thought I could protect her from the Mandalorians.

I stood and entered the kitchen to dump her bowl into the dispenser. I checked the time on my datapad—almost midnight. I glanced towards Sasha who's defiant eyes glinted.

"We're bringing you back home tomorrow." When she didn't move, I grabbed her arm. "Come on. Let's go." She stubbornly looked up at me in response. I pursed my lips. "Look, kid. It's midnight. Past your bedtime."

Before I started to force her along, she pulled back again.

"I am home," she said. "This starship is my home."

I rubbed my face, sighing. Kriff.

"The Ebon Hawk isn't your home. Dantooine is. Your real parents are probably looking for you."

She seemed to stop to think about my words before she huffed again.

"But...I want to stay. I like you. You're nice."

"Well, too bad. You can't."

"Why not?" she whined. "Why can't I stay?"

"Because you'll get hurt," I said, pointing at her. "Abds."

She processed my words then shook her head.

"You won't hurt me. You said so."

"Not me. The Sith. So, we're going back to Dantooine. You're real home. End of discussion."

She deflated after she understood my words, then looked down at her feet as if she was trying to use the Force to move them. I shoved her back in the direction of the dorms and she walked forward—head low. I pursed my lips, wondering, briefly, if I had been too harsh with the girl. But no. No doubts, Wes. A small child shouldn't be hanging around our suicidal mission.

After I shoved Sasha into bed, I paced down the halls of the Ebon Hawk, walking towards the bridge where I assumed Bastila and Carth were. The lights of the controls were dim as I entered the bridge, the co-pilot chair empty. However, an orange-jacketed man still sat, bent over the armrest.

I sat next to him, reclining back in the chair. Carth didn't look up.

"Bas asleep?" I called over.

He nodded in his hand.

There was a beat of silence before I continued.

"You know we have a stowaway, right?"

He shook his head. I huffed at his unresponsiveness then sat back in the co-pilot's chair to better see him past the metal wall.

"What's wrong? Kath got your tongue?"

A long sigh. "Look, Wes, I'm too tired to deal with your antics right now."

I shrugged, sitting forward. "Alright, so you won't complain when I bring us out of hyperspace."

"Wait, what ?" I pressed the screen, placing the command to stop the jump. I pulled at the lever and the blue of hyperspace evaporated. Carth stood, darkly glaring down at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like, genius?"

"We can't go back. We just left."

I rolled my eyes. "One day to drop off our stowaway isn't going to kill us."

Carth sat back in the pilot seat, pressing at the front screen. I looked down and saw him placing coordinates in the system. For Coruscant.

Oh, no he didn't.

I attacked the panel and stopped the activation of the hyperdrives. When I did, he stood again. "We can't afford to hop across the galaxy. The more times we jump, the more times Malak will have the opportunity to track our wakes. Do you want him to ambush us again?"

I waved out the window into space. "I don't see any Sith. Do you?" I went back to the panel, typing in coordinates. "We won't have time to return to Dantooine once we start looking for the Star Maps. It's now or never."

Carth grumbled something inaudibly, sitting down, crossing his arms. Fortunately, he didn't cancel my request for a jump, the lines of the stars bleeding as we made our way back to the Jedi Enclave.

We sat in silence, although I could tell that Carth was more than unhappy about this. I considered going back to my room, but the tension in the commander was too much to be left alone.

Another deep sigh came from the soldier.

"Have I already mentioned how completely insane you are?"

I smirked. "I don't think you ever have, Carth."

"Why are you here?"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing over the control panel separating us.

"Huh? What do you mean? You mean here in this room—?"

"You know what I mean. Why are you here on this mission? You're a neophyte Padawan who's been saddled with tracking down these Star Maps. Why? That's not normal."

I crossed my arms. "Bastila knows more about this mission than I do. Why don't you ask her?"

"I would be more than happy too, but she's just as closed-mouthed as the rest of the Council. I was hoping you would enlighten me."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Well, I'm so glad you can trust me to tell you over the Jedi kriffing Council."

A long groan. "Look, I'm not trying to provoke you or imply that you're somehow responsible for the Jedi...but give me a hand here! There has got to be a reason."

"It's none of your business, frankly," I shot back.

"None of my business? I'm sorry, but I'm a part of this mission too. Even if the Jedi are in charge, I'm risking my life, same as you."

I sighed, sitting back. Perhaps I have been a bit unfair to Carth these days. I certainly wouldn't have been patient enough to stay out of the loop for so long.

Pursing my lips, I stared up at the ceiling.

"Bastila and I have...a bond. We have to do this mission together. That's all I'm going to say."

"A bond?"

Great, I had to explain it. Even I barely understood the damn thing.

"During Taris—kriff knows how—Bastila and I were connected through a Force bond of some sort. Our destinies have been bound together and it's giving us these visions of Revan and Malak. That's why I need to come, unfortunately."

He leveled a stare at me as if I was a mynock singing the soprano part of a Bithian quartet. Now that I think about it...all of it sounded completely crazy. The Revan and Malak part especially.

After a minute of him staring at me, I heard him sit deeper in his chair.

"Is this more of that destiny crap the Jedi keep spouting? Well, that can't be it."

"Then what could it be, Carth? What?"

Carth grew silent as if trying to think of something. Eventually...

"I...don't know. I will tell you this though. I won't be sitting around waiting to be betrayed again."

I shoved a finger in his direction. "Is everything one big conspiracy to you?"

Carth narrowed his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with being cautious."

For once I couldn't think of an argument against that. I stomped out while trying to calm myself with the code, heading towards my room without giving the soldier the chance to argue.

There is no emotion, there is peace…

We arrived back at Dantooine early in the morning. I told Bastila the situation and she didn't say a word as I pulled the child down the ramp. I gave Sasha to the Jedi at the spaceport who promised to deliver her back home or find her one if possible. Sasha sniffed and cried as she was led away from me. Ugh, children.

We didn't wait any longer than that before we flew back into space. I chose a spot to sit on one of the chair-benches in the main hold and twirled my coin.

A presence. Bastila was standing there with crossed arms. I knew what she wanted to talk about.

"Do I have something on my face?" I asked with a smirk.

"Who was that child?"

I sighed. "She was one of those children taken from the Mandalorians."

She lowered her head. "So, it's about that boy again."

I grabbed my coin mid-air with a flip. "That boy has a name, you know."

Bastila stormed to where I sat on the bench chairs then took the seat I had been spinning my coin on before.

"Remember that our quest for the Star Forge comes first. Your search for Liam cannot interfere with the mission."

I pointed at her chest. "I know, alright? You don't have to remind me."

"Really?" She leaned back in the seat. "Well, it seems to me as if I have to remind you. This morning, I woke up surprised that we were jumping back to Dantooine. You took the initiative to go back without consulting me. Already that was a risk to the mission."

"Why am I even here then if I'm such a risk?"

The Jedi's face fell, growing dark. "You know that isn't what I meant."

"Then what was it supposed to mean?"

"That you should learn to control your emotions? That you shouldn't act on your instincts alone? That you should think about the consequences for once?"

"So I'll ask you again: why am I here? The Council said we needed to be together for the visions to show up, but how do they know for sure that my presence is even necessary? We haven't been that far apart before to test it out."

"Of course your presence is—I mean—the events on Taris proved that the Force wanted us to be together on this mission. Isn't that enough for you?"

I drew closer to her with a smirk. "If the Force wanted us to 'be together' then why do you keep resisting my undeniable charms?"

She sank away from me. "Undeniable—! I said the Force wanted us to be together for the mission. I doubt the Council would approve if they knew we were discussing our mutual attraction instead of—"

"Ah, so it's mutual?"

She glowed red. "Mutual attract—that is just an expression! Whatever our feelings—I mean, whatever your feelings, you have to ignore them. Please don't complicate things."

I raised my hands then sat back. "Whoa, wait a second there. When did I ever say I had feelings for you?"

She reddened. "But—you just. You just said —!"

"Wait...you're not actually taking my teasing seriously, are you?"

"Teasing?"

"Yeah, teasing. You know—jesting, joking, pranking? It's a word."

She composed herself again. "And why, exactly, have you been wasting your time teasing me?"

"I don't know. It's fun."

The redness spread to her ears. "Fun, fun? Driving me insane is your idea of a fun time?"

"Nah, ah, ah —careful," I said, wagging a finger near her nose. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

The Jedi pushed my hand away with a disgusted tisk.

"You...you are a very odd man, you know that?" She threw up her hands. "All I try to do is help, but you seemed determined to drive me mad."

I frowned. "When did I ever say I wanted your help?" I crossed my arms. "You're the only one who seems to think I need any."

"Of course you need help. You've barely had any training, you rely on your lesser instincts far too often, and you're interrupting our mission for unimportant side quests."

"Unimportant? " My voice rose. "How is taking a little girl home not important?" I pointed a finger into her face, my face warm. "I'm sorry protocol droid, but I don't need your programmed definition of help."

Seeing as how she wasn't going to respond, I stood then marched towards the engine room to...I don't know. Doing anything was better than fighting with her.