Canderous' fist rushed past my face by a hair—the Force rescuing me from a broken nose. I retaliated with a few punches at his bare chest, without using the Force. The Mando staggered and, instead of attacking, he glared at me.

"Stop holding back."

The mat we set up in the main hold spread from one end of the room to the other. It was one of the many goodies we stole—I mean— acquired from Czerka. I stepped away with raised fists, rubbing sweat from my brow.

I tilted my head. "Holding back?"

"You're not using the Force." Canderous spat. "Come on, I'm not flyboy. I can take it."

"Hmm…" I glanced to the side. "That doesn't seem fair though."

"Fair?" He laughed. "No, no, when you fight a Mandalorian face to face, you don't fight fair. You fight like your life depends on it." Canderous tensed and untensed his muscles. "I fought hundreds of you Jedi in the war. Believe me, I can take it."

"Well, alright. If you say so..."

I focused on Canderous' ankle. The heavy Mando flipped onto his back with a surprised grunt. I went to pin him down, yet he rolled, kicking at me with the speed of a Jedi. His foot collided with my own bare chest, causing me to stagger to the ground.

He chuckled as I jumped to my feet. Spinning around, I barely blocked his incoming punch.

After that, Canderous' punches, kicks, grapples didn't let up. Instead of focusing on the Force to attack, I used it for my own defense.

"There is a reason why our fight is still fair, pipsqueak—" I dodged a grapple. "—because you Jedi have one particular weakness..." I sensed ferocity aimed at my feet. Primed to jump over a kick, I hadn't expected the kick to become a punch to the face.

The lights danced and the force of the punch almost caused me to fall to the ground. I hissed in pain, spitting blood from my cut lip onto the mat. I barely heard Canderous' final words over the ringing in my ears.

"The Force."

I looked up at him through the blur of pain with a smirk.

"Funny."

"Hmm?"

The mat jumped to life underneath Canderous' feet. He cursed but didn't fall to the ground—as I expected. No, that had only been a distraction.

I threw a punch directly at his face—similar to the move he pulled on me. Except after my punch connected with his jaw, he was sent flying. The Mando tried to get back up yet, focusing, I pinned the Mando to the ground with the Force. And no matter how much he struggled, Canderous couldn't get out of the invisible grip.

I crossed my arms with a painful smirk.

"The Force just so happens to be your weakness too."

"Bastard." He tried getting up again but I pushed him back down. "You were still holding back!"

"Part of the art of smuggling, Canderous. Play upon people's faulty expectations. You thought I'd take full advantage of the Force after you gave me permission. A good play, but I'm not stupid enough to show all my cards."

"Bullshit! You just realized I was too much for you to handle after I got a hit in."

I shrugged. "Does this mean you yield?"

"Alright, alright." He pounded the mat with a fist. "You got me." I held out a hand. The Mando took my arm and pulled himself to his feet. "Round one."

My eye twitched. "What?"

"We'll go for three rounds."

"Uh, no, no. You can't change the terms." I pointed to the ground. "I win. You clean the freshers."

Canderous grimaced. "Do they even need to be cleaned? I thought the tin cans did that."

"T3 is a security droid and lacks opposable thumbs. And HK...you want him to clean? Really? He'd probably use the chemicals to make a bomb before he'd bother using it on the sponges."

The Mando growled a "should have seen this coming," then stomped towards the chairs we'd thrown our tunics, jackets, and flasks aside.

We were traveling along in hyperspace on the route Carth had chosen at random. None of us had made a decision on what planet we were going to yet—Korriban or Manaan. We'd discussed it at length but most of the crew (aka Carth and Bastila) were paranoid about running into the Sith army again. We had been in the Outer Rim for so long, we were behind on the news. The war could have been over for all we knew.

Carth sent out a message to Admiral Dodonna asking about the state of the fleets. Whichever lane didn't have the Sith would be the lane we took. So, we sat around in hyperspace, awaiting the Admiral's response.

I picked up my flask and took a long drink from it. We hadn't even been fighting long and I already felt like taking a nap. Or a shower.

Bastila sat across the main hold at one of the benches. Staring at us.

No. Staring at me.

A smirk grew on my face. I put down my flask and, instead of grabbing for my tunic, I picked up my towel. Rubbing the sweat off my brow with it, I strode over to the Jedi, ignoring Canderous' curious stare.

"Bondy?"

Bastila jolted after hearing my voice.

"Oh! Um, I…"

Gray eyes flickered from my chest to my face then back down to her hands. Her face radiated red—appearing like literal sunshine. I slid into the seat next to her, throwing the towel over my bare shoulder.

"Enjoy the show?"

Her face scrunched. "S-Show?"

"Yes, our fight." I hissed as I rubbed my cut lip. "Or did you enjoy...the view."

Canderous cleared his throat. He rolled his eyes before storming away towards the fresher. I ignored his little tantrum over his loss and instead focused on Bastila's radiant face.

A face which turned fire-red.

"View! "

"Oh, yes! I mean, I don't blame you, Bastila. I am rather hard to look away from."

She growled, the red in her face hadn't disappeared though. "Why am I not surprised that your looks are what you're talking about..."

"So, you weren't ogling me?" I frowned. "Why not?"

"W-Why not?" Her voice peaked and I sensed a fluttering in the bond. "What do you mean why not? And of course I wasn't ogling you! That wouldn't be appropriate at all! We're Jedi."

"Wait…" I leaned on my knees, peering up at her. "So because you're a Jedi you never, ever, ever felt any attraction to...anyone? Ever? Not another Jedi? Not a soldier? Not even a holostar? No one?"

She crossed her arms.

"No one."

I continued rubbing my lip despite the pain. "Hmm...you're saying the sweat running down my chest..." She looked away with a huff. The loose hairs that fell away from her bun flew into my face. "Or the way I grunted after being hit..." Her shoulders tightened. "Or when I ogle you..." That caused her to spin around again—her face a shade closer to a sun's. "That does nothing? Really?"

Her breath had become short, her chest rose and fell. The bond grew...hot. As if the connection between us was a boiling ocean. Instead of shouting at me, she bit her lip then turned away.

"...really."

Her voice was barely audible.

"You know what I think?" I whispered back.

"What?"

"I think you're a liar."

That caused her shoulders to tighten and her face twisted from fluster to anger. She glanced me up and down, without flinching. Then her gray eyes connected with mine—her Jedi facade.

"I am not attracted to you."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. " She huffed. "Sense the bond. That'll give you proof."

"Oh, but remember? I don't need to sense the bond to know what you're really thinking, Bastila." I leaned even closer to her to whisper. "You're blushing so hard that I'm afraid you're going to burn down the ship."

"I'm blushing because...because you are annoying me." She hissed but didn't move away. "You would have known that if you actually sensed the bond."

"So it's not because you're attracted to me?"

"No!"

"No?" I chuckled. "So then it is?"

"Yes—no! Force…" Her breath staggered—the blush hadn't gone away. "Sense the bond and that will tell you all that you need to know, Wes."

"Why bother? The physical signs are all there—blushing, nervous ticks, rapid breathing, rapid pulse. You do feel attraction."

"Well, you've obviously misinterpreted those signs." She took a deep breath. "You are also a Jedi. You shouldn't feel any attraction. You shouldn't be letting your baser emotions control you. So, you shouldn't be...blushing..."

I blinked.

Wait, I was blushing?

The heat from the bond...it had distracted me from my own emotions. And some of that heat had been my own. It wasn't from the fight—my skin was cool to the touch now. No, it was…

"You think I'm attracted to you."

"You shouldn't be."

"Why not?" Her mouth opened then closed before settling. Red lips, chestnut hair framing a perfectly symmetrical face. Skin that radiated. And a body… "You are…rather hard to look away from."

A second passed as I waited for...any type of reaction to that confession.

I sighed—frustrated.

"That does nothing?"

She crossed her arms. "Nothing."

"Really?"

"Really!"

I peered, deeply, into her eyes. Into the bond. A moment eclipsed. And a smile curved my lips.

"Liar."

She shot up. "I-I need to meditate." A hand almost hit me in the face as she twisted around. "Y-You should too. Meditate. Suppress what you're...feeling. About me. It can...it can never happen."

Her voice trailed as she rushed away from me, without even a look back, as if I was a deadly krayt dragon. I blinked after her mumbling, retreating form. Most of her words sounded as if they had been spoken to herself. The heat died down to an icy chill. A chill that pierced my bare chest.

My dinner had grown cold as I pushed it around without picking up my fork to take a bite. Verena and Carth sat in front of me, talking about something or other. Probably more war stories. My head had grown heavy so I leaned my chin on my left hand.

Then, there was an awkward silence. It lasted for longer than usual. I pushed a noodle to the edge of the plate.

"Okay," Carth said. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hmm?" I glanced up at the sound of his voice, then watched my cold food again. "Nothing."

I'd thought that would have been enough, but Verena continued. "You've been sighing at your dinner this entire time. You haven't eaten or said a word."

I sighed. "Didn't realize you two missed the sound of my voice."

"Even your quipping is off." Carth crossed his arms with a frown. "If something's wrong...you can tell us, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know…"

I leaned back, staring intensely at my plate. In all honesty, I wasn't even sure what was wrong. And that was unlike me. Must have been something in the recycled air. Fortunately, after I said nothing else, they didn't try to pry again. Their conversation continued and it faded in and out of my consciousness.

"—met Karath. Only once though…" Verena drank some Tarisian ale. "He was a stuck-up prick, honestly. What did you see in him?"

Carth sighed. "He was my mentor out of the academy. From Telos. All of us from Telos stuck together no matter what. Like a...patriotic sense of comradery."

"I get that. It's the same for us Echani. Family is very important to us. Sometimes even more important than our desire to fight."

"What were you doing out on Tatooine alone anyway?" Carth asked. Here we go—the Orangy interrogation. "Eshan was taken by the Sith, so I get why you're on the run. But alone? The Echani I knew from the war always stuck together. Whether they became bounty hunters, mercenaries, or what have you."

This line of questioning caused the Echani to stop drinking. She narrowed her silver eyes at the pilot.

"Is that any of your business?"

"Well, no, I just find it odd."

Verena glanced over at me then back to the pilot. I knew the truth. But just how much of a lie was she going to tell the pilot?

She woofed down her meal, talking in between bites. "I don't get along with my people anymore. My mother and I…let's just say we were never on good terms. Does that answer your question?"

"Well, no. That raises more, actually." Carth frowned. "Why aren't you on good terms?"

Verena sighed, obviously she didn't want to answer these questions. "Mother always had a lot of high expectations. Didn't help that she was a politician so we also had to look good for the holos. And, even though I was the eldest, my sister was better in her eyes. Erina did everything right without even trying. Fought better, did the rites better, everything better. When the Mandalorian Wars started, I saw an opportunity to prove myself."

Verena snorted before she took another long swig of ale. "But mother was a politician. She didn't want us to endanger ourselves. Risk ourselves in case we could be used to blackmail her. Words of a coward. And a hypocrite. She...my mother did not take kindly to being called dishonorable. So, she had me...exiled. After the war, I didn't see a reason to go back."

I spun my fork around a noodle. There were probably a lot of details missing or distorted in that story.

"Oh…" Carth rubbed his head. "That's...sorry. Didn't mean to bring up a touchy subject."

Verena smirked. "Don't worry your little head over it, flyboy. I've long come to terms with the fact that I would have never made my mother proud. Even if she let me join the war with her blessing."

My dry mouth became bitter after Verena's proclamation. I dropped my fork. The food may have looked slightly appetizing before. Not so much now.

Carth sighed. "In a way, I understand. I remember trying so hard to make Saul proud. He was a hard commander to please, but when you did a good job, he didn't forget you. I look back now and…well, his admiration wasn't worth it in the end." The soldier sank in his chair. "No…no it only made his betrayal worse. Now, all I want to do is make him pay for taking everything from me."

"What'll you do after?" I asked.

The pilot flinched—probably hadn't expected me to speak.

"After what?" he asked.

"After you kill him."

The pilot blinked as if he didn't process my words. After a moment, he shook his head. "I...never really thought about it." He took a drink. "Before, well, before I was placed on this mission, if there was an opportunity to kill Saul, I would have taken a ship on my own and just…" He finished his glass then slammed it onto the table. "But I wouldn't do something reckless like that now. Not when it would put everyone in danger."

Verena's lips thinned. "Really?"

"Yes."

"But Saul betrayed you." Verena's gaze became intense as she crossed her fingers together. "My mentor...he was murdered. If the man who killed him was still alive, I wouldn't hesitate."

"I will not let my personal gripes get in the way of my duty to the Republic."

"Duty to the Republic means nothing if those you care about are dead. If their murderers still live on to hurt someone else," Verena hissed. "Because then what is the point?"

Carth's body tensed at Verena's venomous words. He shot me a concerned glance before he stood. The stool screeched as it was pushed back.

"I need...need to check to see if the Admiral has responded…" The pilot's face became tight as he passed Verena. "I will kill Saul. That isn't up for debate. But I won't sacrifice those that are still alive, those that I care about, to do it."

With those final words, Carth stormed out of the canteen. I sighed while turning to face the Echani. She was stabbing at the remains of her dinner, and I sensed intense rage. Unresolved rage.

"I'm confused." I sat up in my seat. "You said you wanted to kill Revan. But...how?" She stopped stabbing her food. "How would you have done it? You yourself said going against him was suicidal."

Verena's face twisted. "Yes."

I froze.

"You...you wanted to do it anyway." I sat back. "Revan would have killed you. He would still—"

"So?" She threw her own fork to the side. "I used the last of my trust with my mother to speak to the Eshan Council on Revan's behalf. When he assassinated a senator, Mother saw it as a betrayal and exiled me. I had nothing else to live for. No home. No honor. Nothing."

"If...if you had nothing else to live for, then why didn't you try to kill Revan after Yusanis died?" I asked. "Why did you run?" She shook while opening and closing her mouth. Obviously trying to come up with an excuse. I looked up at her—sensing hurt within the intense rage. A familiar hurt. "You ran because you want your death to matter."

Verena shot out of her seat, her face red, anger irradiating off her. She grabbed me by the collar and pulled me out of my seat. I'd sensed it but didn't dodge the attack. Instead, I let her. Her silver angered eyes didn't leave my own gaze.

"Don't you dare repeat that butcher's words back to me."

"What?" I blinked. "Who's—?"

"Revan's. " She shook me. "Make your death matter. He told me that. So instead of attacking I..." She pushed me away. "Don't invade my mind, Jedi. Ever again. Or I will make you regret it."

With those final words, she stormed away, leaving me alone in the canteen with my cold noodles.

"—would have been in danger if they came. So, they thought it would be for the best—"

"For the best? "

I stopped my slow walk down the hall and tilted my head. The sound of Bastila and Jolee's voices echoed from the med bay. It sounded as if they were having an intense argument.

Instead of heading towards the garage, I turned towards the voices. Sure, Jolee could insult me all he wanted, but the old man didn't have a right to do it to anyone else. Especially Bastila.

I paused before I interrupted them—deciding to eavesdrop a bit…

Jolee's voice rose. "The Council can kriff themselves if this is their best. You should have never been sent alone to deal with something...something like this."

"I know you have...issues...with the Order," Bastila said, "but you are still a Jedi, Jolee. Without the Council's guidance, we would have fallen to the dark side. I'm…surprised you're still on the path of light after all this time without that guidance in all honesty."

Jolee laughed once. "The capacity for good or evil, like the Force itself, is in all living creatures. Belonging to the Jedi Order, or the Sith, or any group, won't change what you are at your core. The Order...they didn't change him. Not one bit. That is only something he could have done himself. Too late now. "

Who or what was Jolee talking about? Someone who died in his past?

"Well, you're wrong, old man. I saved…the Order did a lot of good. And they weren't given a choice."

He snorted. "Right. Keep living in denial—none of my business."

Heat flooded my chest at Jolee's caustic remark. I poked my head in the doorway of the med bay. Jolee's face was tight with anger, and Bastila's back was to me. Her body shook as if she had been drenched in cold water.

"Denial? I am not—!"

Jolee cleared his throat then shot me a wide grin.

"Evening, kid."

Bastila's shaking ceased. She twisted on a credit, her expression wild, and her emotions fluctuated from fear to anger to...pain.

I narrowed my eyes at the old man. "Oh, so you weren't satisfied with driving me insane, huh?"

"Drove you insane?" Jolee smirked. "Sure you didn't do that yourself?"

"Is pushing buttons fun for you? Because if it is, I'll show you the airlock. Plenty of buttons to push there with the added benefit of being sucked into the vacuums of space."

Bastila grimaced. "Wes."

"My, my, so fierce—still surly from this morning? Bad moods usually wear off… Is he like this all the time?" Jolee waited for Bastila to respond but when she didn't, he rubbed his beard. "Apologies, but I will have to decline your kind offer. Airlocks have a... draft. This ship is cold enough. Nope, I've decided to bunk here."

The old man threw his sack onto the bed. He pulled out his rocks and lined them up on the shelf reserved for medical supplies. I raised a brow at Bastila who responded by looking down at her boots.

"In here?" I stuttered. "In the...the med bay?"

"Yes." Jolee stopped his organization with a sigh. "Look, I'd rather have some privacy when I sleep—snore, you see, and I go to bed fairly early. Actually, now would be the time. Ah, the pains of old age! I'll move if I have to."

Right.

I shot Bastila another glance but she still hadn't budged. "Just so we're clear…" I began. "I didn't want you to come along in the first place."

"You were very clear on that. Crystal. Borderline obsessive at this point."

"Then maybe you shouldn't antagonize everyone else on this ship because they might agree with me."

Bastila sighed. "Wes, he...Jolee wasn't antagonizing—"

"Oh, no, no don't defend him—the old coot doesn't deserve your compassion."

He stopped digging around his bag and narrowed his eyes.

"What did I ever do to you, kid?"

"I don't know—why don't you tell me? Because I still don't know why you decided to smuggle yourself onto our ship other than some very vague destiny bullshit. Oh, and because we're entertainment."

Jolee looked me up and down. "I'm just happy to be back in space, doing something new. Is that too much to ask?"

"Damn right it is. We're not a kriffing taxi service."

"You got a smart mouth, you know that?" Jolee took out his tunics and threw them under the mattress. "If ullers could talk, they'd sound like that."

"I—why the hell do you keep calling me a uller?"

"I never call you a uller, kid, you just act like one."

"That's pretty much the same thing!"

Bastila huffed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Can you both please quiet down? I'm starting to get a headache."

I frowned, sensing that she wasn't lying about that, and crossed my arms—choosing to glare at the old man instead. Jolee responded with another sigh and a stretch.

"You've made your point, girl." He threw his sack to the ground. "But you won't change my mind about the Order. Appreciate the effort though."

Bastila's face appeared as if it was encased in stone and I sensed hot frustration. Without another comment, the Jedi stormed off in a huff. I wanted to go after her, but I could sense that she didn't want to talk about...whatever argument they just had.

Instead, I watched the old semi-Jedi with suspicion.

Jolee laid on the bed with a nostalgic sigh, crossing his arms behind his head. "This little escapade does remind me a bit of my adventuring days before the war. Ahh, those were exciting times." He glanced at me. "Or at least it would remind me of those times if you didn't stand there gawking. What's keeping you? I'm trying to sleep! Shoo! Shoo!"

"Adventuring days?"

Jolee rolled his head back. "Shouldn't have said anything...now you'll start asking annoying questions." He twisted away and faced the wall. "My past is not your concern, kid. Go away—I'm a tired, cranky old man."

"Yes, a tired, cranky old man who, for some reason, is no longer a Jedi and secluded himself in a giant forest."

"Didn't I say that my past was my affair?" he asked the wall. "You don't see me poking and prodding you with questions, do you?"

"I don't care if you ask me questions because I have nothing to hide." I grit my teeth. Why was I wasting words here? It was like I was talking to a fickle child. "Forget it. Thought I'd get to know more about our newest crew member even if he smuggled on our ship like a mynock, but I forgot he's an anti-social recluse."

Jolee let out a long sigh. He sat up and his warm eyes had softened.

"You really don't want to hear about me. We're talking ancient history, probably before you were born. History bores kids. Proven fact."

"Yeah?" I smirked. "Well old people love to talk about themselves and history. Proven fact."

A smile curved Jolee's wrinkled lips. "Oh fine, fine, have it your way." He pat a spot beside him on the medical bed. "Go on, have a seat, take some notes. I tend to ramble."

Since I wanted to know exactly who this old man was and why he'd decided to follow us, I decided to listen. Even though I knew he was being extremely patronizing.

I sat and crossed my arms.

"Hmm…" Jolee scratched his goatee. "I wasn't even done with my Jedi training back then. A Padawan with a full head of hair and an eagerness to see absolutely everything. Sound familiar? The Council was never very happy with willful, brash Jolee Bindo, you see. Even less so when I began my smuggling career."

"S-Smuggling career?" I blinked. "You were a smuggler too?"

"Too?" He raised a white brow. "Oh? So, you were a...smuggler then?"

I smiled. "Yup, had a crew and an old freighter scavenged from the Exar Khun wars. The Tabula Rasa ."

Jolee's face tightening. "Tabula…"

"Rasa. Clean slate. I know, weird name, but I thought it was fitting. It's...that's what it was to all of us. A fresh start." I stuffed my hands in my pockets with a frown—my fingers brushing my coin. "Well, before they betrayed me."

"Betrayed you?"

"It's not an interesting story."

"I'm not going to continue to tell you mine unless you tell me yours."

I sighed. Guess I didn't have a choice.

"A year ago, Republic ships swarmed the Rasa. Someone in my crew made a plea bargain with them and set up an ambush. They were about to board, so I...crashed because I...I panicked."

Yes, that's right.

"The Republic captured me. Spent who knows how long in solitary before they gave me the 'opportunity' to join the Navy. Didn't even…get a…a kriffing arbiter…or trial..." I grabbed my wrist to calm my shaking. "I probably made a mistake agreeing to it...but I just wanted…wanted one small victory. Escape. Freedom. Would have agreed…to anything just so that I could get out and they knew it."

My mouth dried and I took a deep breath. This really shouldn't have been difficult to talk about but I was shaking like a scared child.

"I-I still don't know who turned me in. I'd been captain for seven years. We'd done three Corellian runs—three! All of them flawless! We were going to hit Duro next—I'd even thought up the perfect scheme to get past the orbital cities. Would have been rich by now sipping on wine from Alderaan..."

My words staggered. I took a deep breath. "I'd spent most of my life with that crew. For them to just...throw me away like I meant nothing —" I seethed. "If I happen to run into whoever did it…they're dead. Jedi Code be damned. Any reason they could give me wouldn't make sense."

"Hmm…"

The old man's face had become tight with thought.

"What?"

"Nothing just a…" He sighed while shaking his head. "A shame. Can't believe it..."

"You being a smuggler is way more unbelievable."

He smiled though it was strained. "I wasn't always the wrinkled coot I am now, you know."

"Okay...but why were you a smuggler if you were also a Jedi?"

"Well, I wasn't afraid to get my hands dirty. At the time the Ukatis system was interdicted by its own King. He preferred to keep his people starving and poor, all the better to oppress them. The Senate was trying to negotiate a peace, but they were getting nowhere as usual."

I snorted. "Not surprised."

"The Council told us all to stand down. I decided I wasn't going to wait. I found myself a ship and a partner and we began smuggling food and supplies to the Ukatis citizenry through the blockade."

"But isn't that...I don't know, dangerous? Risky?"

"Oh, it was. But I was a half-decent pilot in those days...and with the Force guiding me, we made it through some tough spots nobody else would have. It was worth the risk. There were millions of people crying out for aid. What else was I supposed to do?"

I pursed my lips. Never would have thought the old man to be...selfless like that.

"I...that's kinda heroic, old man. I wouldn't have dared to do something that risky. Did you at least earn credits for the trouble?"

"What? No, of course not, we gave it all away."

I flinched. "But...but then how did you earn enough to buy the supplies?"

"Well...we didn't buy all the equipment, per se. Some were happy to donate. Some we just, ah, knew had more than they could use."

"So, you stole it."

Jolee raised his white brows. "'Stole' is such a harsh word. They would have donated those goods readily enough if they were compassionate. I considered it a tax on the greedy."

"Hey, I'm not judging." I raised my arms. "It's just...a lot of risk without reward, you know? Stealing the goods, getting past the blockade, handing out the goods, escaping...how did you do it all without getting caught?"

"Carefully. And heh, well, we only got caught once. A lone Ukatish frigate shot us down and forced a crash landing. I thought the Force had abandoned me, as I remember."

"I mean...you were tempting fate." I shook my head. "One of the many rules of smuggling. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong."

"Hmph. As I recall, I'm not the only person in this conversation who's crashed before."

My face warmed. "Okay, but I crashed because I wanted to."

"I...think that makes it worse, kid." I opened my mouth to argue but Jolee sighed. "Well, as it happens, getting shot down turned out to be very fortunate. That day was the day I…"

"Day you?"

"...met my wife."

Wait. What?

"Wife?" I cringed. "You were married?

The old man smirked. "You know another way to get a wife?"

"Er, no, it's just…" Had everyone been married on this ship? Well, everyone except for the teen and the Jedi because...well, for obvious reasons. Jedi weren't allowed— "Wait, how were you married? Doesn't the Order forbid attachment—?"

My mouth slammed shut. Oh. So...that was why he wasn't a Jedi anymore, wasn't it? Jolee's warm eyes became cold.

"I...if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to go to bed now. Told you...all I want to about myself for the moment."

I stood from the bed.

"I...sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, no, you're fine, kid. When you're digging through the trash, you shouldn't be surprised when you encounter something unpleasant." The old man laid down. "Turn off the light and shut the door, would you?"

I nodded, flicking the switch to the med bay lights and stepping out into the hall. I glanced over my shoulder to the snoozing old man. Maybe...I'd judged Jolee too harshly. There was more to the old geezer than passive-aggressive insults. A spike of guilt flooded my chest as I finally closed the med bay door with a swish.

Thirty minutes later, Carth called us all over the comm to go to the main hold. Admiral Dodonna had news about the fleets. News she wished to discuss with us...or well, with Carth and Bastila.

I sat next to Mission who already looked bored, tired, and peeved. I'd given her a task to upgrade T3's sensory units with one we got from Czerka. The young Twi'lek still hadn't washed her hands of grease and was kicking her legs with impatience.

Verena kept a cold distance from me, choosing to sit on the other side of the holoprojector. Canderous stood while drinking out of a flask. He still had some fresher gunk on his pants. Juhani also sat next to me on the bench—staring intensely at the projector. And Jolee had, obviously, just gone to bed.

Bastila stood with Carth in front of the wavering figure of Admiral Dodonna. The woman stood with her back straighter than a knife and her voice sounded terse even after being distorted over the holochannel. From the side, I could see the many awards and badges decorating her flat-ironed coat.

"It's been weeks since we last heard from you, Commander Shan," she began. "How goes your mission to find the Star Forge?"

Bastila nodded. Once the Admiral appeared on the holo, her expression morphed into the one I'd seen in the Republic hanger. She almost looked like...a stranger.

"We're halfway there, Admiral. But the Sith know what we're after and have been chasing us across the galaxy. We need to know where their armada is before we make any decisions on where to go next. Another Taris cannot happen."

Dodonna's stiff figure relaxed. "I hear you, Shan, but tracking the Sith is next to impossible. Their numbers are unmeasurable and our spies have collected little to no information about their current position."

"I...was afraid you'd say that." Bastila's shoulders dipped. "Can you estimate, at least? Where were they seen last?"

Admiral Dodonna stared at them for at least a minute, leaving an awkward silence. A silence that was broken by a less stern voice.

"I will be frank, Shan. A month and a half without your support has taken its toll. Without you, we are losing this war."

All of us sat up at the Admiral's dark words. Bastila flinched yet held firm. "Y-You do know the importance of this mission, Admiral. How sensitive—"

"Yes. I know the importance and the sensitivity of this mission, but the Star Forge won't matter if the Republic falls. Last week, the Leviathan attacked the Lantilles system while Darth Malak's fleet struck Gizar at the same time. Not only that but they destroyed Commander Rizen's fleet. The Sith will hit Uyter next. Soon."

Dodonna's image wavered. "Onasi sent me your coordinates. Uyter happens to be a day or so away from your location. We believe Darth Malak and his new apprentice, Bandon, plan to strike within the week."

I shot out of my seat.

"That is—"

Bastila threw me a glare when I tried to speak up. For once, I listened to that "don't-start-shit-Wes" look, but only because I didn't want to mess up whatever she was about to say to convince the Admiral that this was a terrible idea.

Because hell no! We could not go into some kriffing battle! The last time that happened, we almost got blasted to space dust. I'd half enjoyed our little escapades around the galaxy without being in the front lines. Something I'd never signed up for, in fact.

Carth's body tightened.

"May I speak freely, Admiral?" he asked.

"Yes, Onasi."

"The faster we are able to get these Star Maps, the faster we will be able to defeat the Sith. Not only that but Bastila and Wesley Gale's bond is the only thing guiding us to the Star Forge. If either of them are captured by the Sith, all of this would have been for nothing."

I raised a brow. Wow, didn't know Orangy cared so much about my safety.

Admiral Dodonna nodded. "I understand what is at stake here, but I wouldn't be asking if we weren't desperate. Once the Sith take Uyter, it's only a matter of time before they start their campaign on Corellia and Duro. If both of these systems fall, Coruscant is next." Dodonna's form wavered again as the connection broke up. "Not only that but if they take Uyter, many people will starve. Malak is making a campaign of scorched earth and is burning each planet he takes."

The feeling of...anxiety fluttered within the bond. Fear. I faced Bastila trying to communicate with my eyes to not agree to do this. But the Jedi ignored me, and…

"I see." Her eyes opened. They had become cold. "We have no choice then. We will plot a course for the Uyter system, Admiral."

Dodonna's shoulders fell. "Thank you, Commander Shan. You have no idea—"

"No!" I stormed around the holodeck so that I was in view of the Admiral. Bastila was still glaring at me, but she would have to deal with it. "Are you serious?"

"Wes," Bastila hissed.

"You're saying you can't fend off a fleet without one person? Without Bastila? You have got to be kidding me. All of those battleships and you can't muster up your own strength to stop the Sith? How do you call yourself an Admiral if you can't take responsibility for your troops?"

"Wes!"

That was Carth.

Admiral Dodonna's expression, which had been emotionless before, darkened. She hadn't flown into a rage like I'd expected.

"You...are Wesley Gale. The neophyte Padawan I've heard so much about." I opened my mouth to argue, but Dodonna continued. "Commander Shan's Battle Meditation has turned the tide many times in the past. Since you are a Jedi, surely you'd know about this power?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Of course I do, but Bastila's power doesn't mean you can boss her around like she's your personal servant. And, if you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of an important mission—"

Bastila pushed me aside with a shove. "I apologize for my charge's behavior, Admiral. He is wildly capricious and doesn't know how to act when it comes to these important matters." I once again opened my mouth to argue, but the Jedi spoke over me. "We should arrive by tomorrow, Admiral."

"I will make accommodations and ping you the exact coordinates." She saluted. "Dodonna out."

After the holo cut out, A feverous heat entered the bond. Guess who Bastila was angry at? She didn't say anything though. No, Carth walked up to my side with a horrified expression on his face.

"Y-You knew who that was, right?" he muttered. "You just implied that the Admiral of the Republic Navy is incompetent."

"Yeah." I shrugged. "So?"

"So? " Bastila twisted around, face red. "What do you mean, so? If the Admiral is incompetent, then the Sith will destroy everything. Does that matter to you? At all?"

"Of course it matters to me!" I shouted back. "Are you saying the Admiral of the Republic Navy is above constructive criticism? Because, kriff, if they're losing after not having you for one month, then what hope do we have?"

Mission shot up from the bench. "Wes' right! You shouldn't have to go to battle if you don't want to, Bas."

"Mission," she huffed. "I have to and want to. Without my aid, the Uyter system will fall and many people will die." Her shoulders sank. "Since it is...only a day away, I don't see any reason not to make a small detour."

"But what if your help isn't enough?" Juhani asked, sitting forward. "What if the Sith defeat the fleets? The Council said both you and Gale—"

"The Council isn't here though, are they, Juhani?" After Bastila snapped that at the young Cathar, she sat back with a deep frown. The bond grew cold. "And, since they are not here, I am the de facto leader of this mission. What I say, goes." Her eyes narrowed. "And I say we jump to the Uyter system."

Silence. Canderous rubbed the back of his neck with a frown of his own growing on his face. Verena stared off into space while Juhani and Mission stared down at their boots.

Mission sighed, her lekku drooping over her shoulder. The teen shuffled away and Juhani followed while shooting the other Jedi a concerned glance. Carth studied Bastila himself with that same concern. I probably had a similar look on my face. Bastila, of course, was oblivious to all of this.

She crossed her arms and turned away from us. "Plot a course, Onasi." She waved a hand. "Everyone...get some rest. We have a...a long day ahead of us."

Here is a chapter to tide you over for a bit! I have mostly everything planned out (with some things still being worked on). Chapters may take a bit longer than usual to come out since I've been busy. Thank you in advance for your patience!

As always, see you next time!