"So," Ariv began as he and Bastila trekked across the large plains that dominated most of Dantooine's surface, "what do you know about these Sandrals and Matales?"
Bastila glanced up at him and said, "I am not supposed to intervene." That was the longest sentence she'd spoken to him all day. The only other words had been it's your decision when he'd said he would like to resolve the issue of the family feud between the farmers first since that was the closest to the Temple because apparently, when the Jedi Council meant that he'd have no help for his quest, it meant he wouldn't even have the luxury of using a speeder.
It was fine with him, he and Bastila had walked in companionable silence and she had been willing to let him take the lead. It was a truly pleasant atmosphere—Ariv found himself cherishing the peace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way, the last few years of his life had been spent travelling from one ship to another and to war-torn worlds.
Dantooine was like a safe haven, tranquil and serene. It was also a force nexus—the energy seemed to seep through the entire planet–from all the animals and insects to the very soil and cracks and crevices in the land. The planet's sun had dipped below the horizon over an hour ago and Ariv decided that they had travelled enough for the day. Already the sky had darkened into shades of black and purple and stars twinkled into existence. Now, he and Bastila were headed for a clearing they'd spotted near a stream, they'd set up a tent there to spend the night and continue their journey as soon as the sun rose. If they'd keep up today's pace, they'd be at the Sandral's estate by afternoon tomorrow.
Ariv continued his conversation with Bastila, "Yes…you already made that clear. But if this was a usual mission, I'd ask around the locals for any intel, and I've been told you practically grew up here so…."
Bastila huffed even as she walked beside him, she glanced over and said, "I have not trained here in nearly a decade. I left for Coruscant as a teenager and returned only a year or so ago–and even that was a short trip."
"Still, you must have lived here for what…fifteen years?" he inquired.
"No. I lived in the Enclave for only nine, I was brought here at six and left at fifteen–when my powers of battle meditation had been discovered," she answered, truthfully and Ariv was surprised, "Don't most Jedi start as toddlers?" he questioned, curious.
All he'd heard in the last few months was that he was too old to be a Jedi and that there was a reason why the Jedi recruited so many youngsters.
"Yes," Bastila answered, setting down her backpack in the shallow grass, "generally the Order prefers younger students, but–rare as it may be, a few times they don't mind someone older," she explained, "And before you ask, even if I could, I would have nothing of value to tell you about the farmers. While I did not have a sheltered upbringing, the Jedi did not involve apprentices in such things."
"You could've just told me that from the beginning," he grumbled and Bastila rolled her eyes and her expression twisted yet again but he ignored it and continued to unpack his own bag.
"I told you can't interfere–that should be answer enough," she stubbornly insisted and Ariv huffed, "And I told you, I was gathering intel from a local–"
"I'm not a local! I wasn't even born in this Rim, let alone on this planet!" the Jedi argued.
"That I—or mostly anyone, really—can tell," he said.
Bastila paused for a second, "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, clutching a packet of rations.
"Your accent–it's from the Core is it not? You said yourself that you spent, what, seven years on Coruscant? And not just that," he added before she could say anything, "It's your…attitude too," he finished, grinning at her and she immediately rose to his bait.
"And what precisely is that supposed to mean?" she hissed and his grin widened. He was bored–had been for not just this day–but the last few weeks. His verbal sparring with Bastila had been fun, even though he would never admit this to anyone out loud, even under the pain of death. She'd shut him out after their argument about Revan–things had not been quite the same ever since.
He felt a little–only a little–bad that he was essentially annoying Bastila for his entertainment, but he realised something, she was likely to be more honest with him in her anger. Otherwise, she'd end up parroting back the words of the Jedi to him, something he had no interest in hearing.
"Well?" she demanded and Ariv remembered that he ought to answer her, "Oh you know," he said, calmly and his demeanour only pissed her off more, "your haughty holier-than-thou, I'm–too–good–for–everyone–around–me attitude. Typical for most Jedi and especially common for people from the Core Worlds."
"That's not true," she said, but even in the low starlight, he could see splotches of red form on her cheeks.
"But it is," he insisted, and well, he wasn't exactly lying, "I remember the way you were on Taris–you thought your judgement was better and more sound than anyone else's. And this isn't just about Taris–you're like that even now, with my training and every time we talk about anything related to the Jedi."
"I, uh, well," she began, and Ariv raised a brow at her stutter, "as for Taris," she said with more conviction, "I am an experienced commander–"
"—Not more than me, Carth or even Canderous, we've all fought in a war before you were old enough to even enlist, yet you argued with us at every turn—"
"—But, I've personally dealt with the Sith and when it comes to the Jedi, I do have more experience than all of you," she said, triumphantly and that was a point he had to concede.
"Fine," he said, "I accept your argument about the Jedi, but what about the fact that you argue incessantly about the Mandalorian Wars when you didn't fight in them?" he asked as he began setting up their tent.
"I read about them as they waged–" she began and Ariv cut her off, "—Please," he scoffed, "you of all people should know that reading about the horrors of war does not, in any way, compare to actually fighting in it."
"I suppose you are right," she said and he exclaimed, grinning, "Wow! That's the first time I've ever heard you say that–I wish I had recorded such a rare and extraordinary event!"
Bastila rolled her eyes, pulling out a canteen from her bag, "You ought to cherish this moment then," she snarked, "for it shall never happen again."
"We'll see," he said, "now–back to what we were talking about, where did you grow up?" He did not want to bring up their disagreements about the Jedi's teachings–not now, when she'd conceded that maybe, just maybe he knew more about a war he'd fought in than she did.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked, tilting her head, sceptically.
He shrugged, "Why not? You and I both know that we're not going to part ways once my trials are over, whatever happens after–we're going to have to face it together," he said, feeling awkwardness build in him as he realised his words were a little shy of too intimate. He put all his attention on securing the last flap of the tent properly while Bastila pondered his words.
"I…yes," Bastila said, voice uncharacteristically soft. He understood now that it must not have been easier for her too, to be bonded to a perfect stranger–someone who held such a different view of the entire galaxy. Ariv sighed, promising himself that he'd try to be…kinder, for lack of a better word. When he was her age, he too, had such blind faith in the Republic and its system.
"Do tell, princess," he added, sitting beside her, near the fire she'd started.
Bastila handed him some polystarch bread and veg-meat and bit into hers before answering, "Fine, but…you have to answer my questions too, is that fair?"
Ariv blinked, "An honest answer for another–all right, that's fair enough."
The Jedi smiled, "I was born on Talravin–but I spent only two or three years there." Despite the fact that Bastila had spent only three years on the Core World planet, it was obvious she had some modicum of affection for it–which Ariv found puzzling–for she must hardly remember the place.
Before he could ask her more she spoke once more, "What about you?" Something was off about her tone–as if she expected the answer he was about to give.
"I," he began, "was born on Deralia–it's a simple Outer Rim world, but like you, I did not grow up on the world I was born on."
Bastila sighed, as though she was almost relieved by his answer, but Ariv dismissed the errant thought to clarify his old doubt. "Tell me more," he said, swallowing the tasteless bread.
"My father was a hunter," she explained, "so we did not stay for long in one place–that's why I did not spend much time on Talravin itself, but he always told me about the rich culture and traditions of my homeworld. I remember those stories fondly." She bit her lip, reluctant to reveal more, probably feeling she'd said too much already.
After all–they still did not know each other well, and it was odd…to talk of such things with someone. Ariv understood that—war hardly left anyone comfortable with being…vulnerable. He'd get her to open up to him, even if he knew that the process would take him time and patience.
"I see," he said and Bastila looked at him expectantly, right, he had to tell her too, "I…my homeworld was taken over by the Mandalorians, I was too young to remember it–or my parents."
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said and he could sense the sincerity behind her words, "is…is that why you joined the war?" she asked and Ariv froze.
"...It was probably only a minor factor. Like I said, I don't remember it all: all I have are scant memories of my life after that."
"...Scant?" she questioned and Ariv shook his head, he did not want to discuss his accident with her, "Nuh-huh, I answered two of your questions–now it's your turn."
"Fine," she huffed, "I travelled around in a small ship that belonged to my father, we went from one exotic world to another, my father always had some expedition lined up." A small smile appeared on Bastila's face once more and he could feel the affection she must hold for her father, but it was quick to disappear. "I was found by the Jedi on one such mission and then was brought to the Order."
Ariv cocked his head, silent, "...You don't sound too happy about that," he mused out loud and Bastila stiffened, "I don't understand," she said tersely.
"I mean, I don't blame you, it must have been hard: being separated from your family at such a young age," he elaborated.
"I'm perfectly fine," Bastila intoned, not sounding particularly fine, and got up to gather her empty ration packs to dispose of them. Ariv followed her, having finished his meal,
"It's alright if you're not," he began as the Jedi moved away from him, "you're still human, of course you mis–"
Bastila whirled around to face him, poking an accusatory finger in his chest, "I am a Jedi, we are supposed to have no attachments, do not forget tha–"
"I'm not forgetting the Order's rules," he said rolling his eyes and leaning forward, "but there is nothing wrong with admitting you miss your family, for kriff's sake!" Bastila opened her mouth to argue again but he cut her off by saying, "And don't worry, I won't tell the Council about this."
She blinked up at him at loss for words and he saw a flicker of guilt mar her features before she backed away, realising how close they had gotten during their heated discussion.
"It's late," she said, haughty expression back in place, "I'm heading off to sleep." With those words and a parting glance, she brushed past him to their tent, leaving Ariv alone with his thoughts.
Ariv knew that he too should try to get some sleep, but he had no interest in going to their tent while she was awake. It would be an awkward affair and he supposed they both could do with some privacy right now.
He busied himself with scouting the land around the clearing, making sure no creature like a kinrath or worse, a kath hound had found their way in the woods nearby. Bastila and he had already made sure to do so before setting up their tent, but he figured that he had time to kill and nothing to do. He might as well make sure they'll be safe during the night.
He picked up a datapad he'd borrowed from the library to read about the Jedi and force healing, but he found his mind wandering to the conversation he'd had with Bastila. The Jedi was not a very open and trusting person–something he could hardly blame her for. War tended to do that to anyone–especially someone who held so much power and importance.
But Ariv would not deny that he was intrigued by the battle meditator, at first he had–wrongly–assumed she was like all other Jedi: only patronising, stoic, serious, impassive and sober. While she did possess these traits, Bastila was also arrogant, and at the same time she was unsure of herself–he saw in the way she spoke to the Masters and how eager she was for their approval. She agreed with the Jedi Council's judgement on everything, but he'd seen her displeasure at being forced to stay on Dantooine when she could be with the Republic fleet.
Despite whatever she would tell him about the Mandalorian Wars, Ariv also knew that she cared for the Republic and its citizens deeply. Maybe she didn't fight in it–or simply did not realise the threat the Mandalorians posed, but she knew how dangerous the Sith were and had thrown herself head–first into this conflict and did the best she could to protect the Jedi and her comrades. She was dedicated to the Order and its doctrines–almost to a fault, but she still missed her family. She was brave and at the same time held a deep fear of the dark side.
Bastila Shan was like a puzzle to him–she piqued his curiosity and he would not be dissuaded till he understood her–or at least knew her better. A part of him thought that his inquisitiveness was not the only reason why he was so interested in her, but the mere notion was so outlandish that he squashed the thought as soon as it appeared.
He only wanted to know more about the woman he was bonded to, and as much as the two of them disliked it, they could not get rid of it–it was almost impossible to do so, and even if they succeeded, it had terrible consequences, and the sensation would be akin to a wound for a Jedi.
Ariv sighed, bringing his attention back to the datapad, he had no desire to read about the Jedi at the moment, so he decided to see if local news had any information about the issues he was tasked with resolving. After nearly an hour of searching through articles, he learned that Shen Matale, the son of a wealthy farmer had gone missing and his father put the blame on his rival, Nurik Sandral.
To make matters worse, Casus–Sandral's son had been declared missing some time ago. A generous reward was offered by both families for the return of their sons, but no one had been able to find either boy.
What a mess, Ariv thought, shaking his head. He dumped his datapad to the side after unsuccessfully scouring the holonews for more information. Breathing in deeply, he laid down, the soft sweet-smelling grass of Dantooine at his back. It was truly night now, and the twin moons were high in the sky, their pale light illuminated the hills and plains around him. Stars shone brightly and he could make out some familiar ones in the Raioballo Sector, like Malola, Lah'mu and Neka.
From his vantage point, here in the open serene plains of Dantooine, the wars that have been tearing the galaxy apart seem like a distant dream, and many of the citizens here were seemingly untouched by it. Even the systems nearby had such a…luxury, that the Sith Empire–or the Mandalorians–had been unable to break through this part of the galaxy just yet.
It was fascinating to Ariv, for the war, this and the previous one, had been such a big part of his life. A small part of him knew that even in the unlikely event he is able to recover his lost memories, the wars would still be at the forefront of his mind—first as a soldier—and now, if he played his cards right, as a Jedi.
He wondered how different his life would have been had he gone through with his decision to leave before the Battle of Jaga's Cluster. Would he still have somehow found his way to Taris–and by extension to the Jedi? He would have never been assigned to deal with the pirates and his memories would have been saved, had he found the courage to leave. Ariv sighed, put out the few embers that remained in the fire and retired to the tent where the Jedi was already fast asleep.
There was no point in wasting his time by dwelling on what-ifs and things that would never come to pass. It was better to focus on the present, he reminded himself as he slipped into an uneasy sleep on his bedroll.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
It was the scent of something burning that woke Ariv from his slumber. Alarmed, he glanced over to his side and sure enough, the Jedi was nowhere to be found. He pushed his blankets off himself and grabbed a vibroblade—something he'd learned to keep by his bedside from his scouting days—and he darted out of the tent. The sun was low on the horizon, barely peeking over the low hills and Ariv quickly searched the campsites for any ambush. He had woken up to a burning camp or ship under siege too many times to count—only he had not expected to do so on a planet like this.
His keen eyes searched for any interloper–was it some local thief, pirate—or worse, wondering if the Clan found them—only to see Bastila trying her best to douse a fire. She quickly covered the burning pan with a plate and seconds later, the fire died out, starved of oxygen. Ariv had never been more grateful to see burnt food.
"What are you doing?" he asked, coming to face the Jedi who had been startled by him.
"I tried to make breakfast—clearly it did not go as planned," she muttered with as much dignity as possible.
"Maybe…I can still salvage it," she added, prying the plate away and cursing when she saw whatever she'd been meaning to heat was completely charred.
Ariv sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You nearly lit the entire savannah on fire…to make what?"
"Breadroot patty–and I did no such thing! It's hardly my fault if these things are so flammable!" she argued and it was clear to him the Jedi did not have much experience with cooking because, "You don't…don't ever cook that over an open flame, it's a fire hazard," he explained, "What you used are meant for the food processors of a starship."
"Clearly," she grumbled, putting the blackened food into a bag to dispose of.
"Why didn't you ask me?" he inquired, pulling out a pair of ration bars. While what Bastila was planning to have was far more appetising, he had woken up later than he should have and they did not have time to make anything and if the Jedi missed real food…well he'd take her to a cantina and make up for it. Right now, he had to begin his trek as soon as possible, going over the hill would take half the day and he did not want to waste a single moment.
"You were asleep and I did not want to disturb you," she said simply, tearing open the ration bar and grimacing at its taste, but they both knew not to complain, for as disgusting as the bars were—really it was like biting into bird feed—they were packed with nutrients they needed.
Her reasoning was almost…sweet but, "Next time, please do so, lest you light anything on fire. Again."
Bastila rolled her eyes and bit into the bar with viciousness, "It happens very rarely."
Ariv stared at her for a moment, trying to make sense of her words, "...You mean you've set food on fire before," he said flatly.
Colour rose on Bastila's face, "A few times—everyone makes mistakes," she added hurriedly as a grin split Ariv's face and he laughed, the Jedi's expression twisted again and she scowled.
It reminded Ariv of something and this wasn't the first time he'd noticed it, but he couldn't quite remember what exactly he was seeing in the Jedi and if he saw it more—without making the connection and realising what it was—it would drive him mad.
"Why are you carrying a vibroblade?" she inquired, blatantly changing the subject, and Ariv glanced at his tattooed hand which still clutched said sword. He'd become so familiar with weapons, he didn't even notice that he'd still been holding it.
"I thought we had been ambushed," he explained and Bastila tilted her head, confused, "Why?"
"Surely you've woken up to a burning ship and explosions around you," he said, "Sleeping with a weapon by my bedside has saved my life too many times—you know," he added, pointedly, remembering how her lightsaber had always been within arm's reach on Taris. Bastila nodded and finished her meal in silence.
"We'll head to the Matale Estate," Ariv told her as they packed up the tent and other supplies. "If we keep up yesterday's pace, we'll be there by midday," he added, telling her what conclusion he had come up to last night. Bastila nodded once more and heaved up her packed bag, making for the hills.
Ariv sighed, it seemed that she was still upset about his statements last night—and frankly it made him angrier than he should have been. Why was she upset to be reminded of the fact that she was human? And even if it was a weird Jedi thing—where she thought that others in the Order did not feel the way she did—most of them did not know what it was like to have a family. How can one miss something they've never had—or even wanted?
The lone sun of Dantooine rose high in the sky, its golden beams suffusing the rolling hills and plains with their brilliant light. Thankfully, it was not terribly hot—even near midday. They were close to the Sandral grounds and in the distance Ariv could make out growing stalks of green-yellow quinto grain behind a barbed wire fence that marked the beginning of the Sandral property.
A few kath hounds lazed around, sniffing something in a ditch, likely a new prey, he spared them a glance, reaching out with the force to keep his senses on alert. When provoked, the creatures could be fearsome.
The morning passed by quickly, with both Ariv and Bastila deep in thought. Well, at first, he was convinced he could let this slip by, like all their disagreements, but if they were going to be working together for the foreseeable future—a prospect that seemed less and less appealing by the second—she couldn't shut him out like that. \
Working with someone meant having their trust and trusting them in turn. He knew trust was not freely given and had to be earned, but Bastila did not seem inclined to even talk to him without getting mad over differing opinions, let alone giving him a chance.
He remembered how she had gone about, practically ignoring him for weeks altogether and tried his best to push down the sudden burst of anger he felt at that.
It had not bothered him much back at the Enclave—but now? Now, it was an entirely different scenario. Back at the Enclave, he had all the Jedi Masters and his training to occupy his mind, but now, he and Bastila were out in the open on a mission. They were no longer surrounded by the walls of the Enclave that keep them safe. And more than that—Ariv knew that Dantooine was probably the safest planet that they would have to go to—it was certainly the safest world he had been to since the war between the Jedi and Sith broke out.
He needed to talk to her before they began this mission–how could he make sure that she would be safe and alright if she refused to speak to him after every minor disagreement?
"Bastila," he called out to the Jedi that had wandered a few feet ahead. She paused for a moment but continued to walk even faster than before. He sighed at her antics but caught up with ease.
"What?" she asked, blinking in the bright sunlight that passed through the gaps in the emerald leaves. They had been walking near the wood's edge, under the blessed shade of the leaves.
"We need to talk," he said and cringed, realising that what he had said was something one said before breaking up, not when trying to build a relationship. Well, not exactly a relationship in this scenario, he was sure Bastila seemed more inclined to take her lit saber to his heart and it wasn't as though he was interested—but why was he even thinking about that? He shook his head, focusing on the present rather than foolish far-fetched scenarios.
Bastila had stopped and she stood, glaring at him with her arms crossed over her chest, more irritated than usual, "Well?" she questioned, looking at him as though he was crazy.
"I'm sorry–yes, uh–," he began awkwardly, not liking this at all. Usually, he knew exactly what to say—regardless of whether he was sincere or not—but words always seemed to fail him when it came to her. He swallowed, his usual ways of flattery and well, deceit were not going to work. He had to be brutally honest with her, just like she was with him most of the time.
"Look," he said more confidently as the Jedi's expression became more and more annoyed, "I get that you don't like me," Bastila opened her mouth to argue, "I don't blame you, ok? I know you don't like being bonded to a virtual stranger, especially since you care so deeply about the Jedi Order and their principles and I just…don't."
"You told me this last night, where are you going with it?" she asked, wanting to go straight to the point and he complied, appreciating her a little more. As much as she wanted to be like the Jedi and the Council Members, she did not like dancing around a subject and wanted to hear his point directly.
"You need to understand this from my perspective too," he said and Bastila immediately rolled her eyes, "Look," she said, "I know that you think being a Jedi is not easy—no one ever said it is. You may find what the Masters make you do challenging—but they are like that for a reason. I have told you this repeatedly! The Sith will not be kind to you and I'm sorry that you find this hard, but if you expect my sympathy—"
"I don't!" he hissed, temper flaring once more. Stars, this woman did not even let him finish before making her assumptions. But he had promised to be better and he would not yell at her, no matter how irrationally angry he was. He pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off his anger, "I don't want your sympathy, I don't need or expect it. All I need is your cooperation."
Bastila glared again, "You need my cooperation?" and Ariv knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to say, "I have been nothing but cooperative since the very beginning!" she began, stalking closer to him.
"I have done exactly what the Jedi have asked me to!" Bastila continued, voice rising with every word, "You find your training frustrating?" her silver eyes blazed with fury, "You wish you were with the fleet instead?" she asked again and did not wait for an answer as Ariv backed away from the Jedi intent on crowding his personal space.
"So do I! She yelled, "I don't want to be here either!" Ariv pretended that her words did not hurt.
"I want to help the Republic! Every day countless beings die at the hands of the Sith, and entire systems fall under their control—no one is spared, not simple, peaceful worlds!" Ariv understood her vexation, he really did, but her tone suggested that this meant more to her than just doing her duty.
"I want to use my battle meditation—the one thing that I can do to actually make a difference—and the Council keeps me here instead—" Ariv opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted him and screeched, "—to what? Train a man a decade older than I am! Who was—" she cut herself off at the last second and retreated from him, fear replacing her rage.
"I," she began, swallowing, "I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I should not have lashed out—the Council is wise, they would not ask me to leave my usual duties if they did not think it important—"
Ariv heard her reasoning, but he couldn't understand one thing, "What—what were you going to say?" he asked, trying his best to hide his panic. She couldn't possibly know, no one had known about his almost…traitorous thoughts. If she—or the Council—knew, they would doubt him even more. They probably would never let him finish training.
Bastila took a deep breath plastering a smile on her face, "The Council would not want me to leave my duties unless—"
"No, you said—and I quote, train a man decade older than me–who was– who was what, Bastila?" he asked.
Bastila's face drained of what little colour it had and she took a deep breath, finding her composure, "A scout and a soldier, what else?" she said dismissively, walking away and Ariv followed her, grabbing her arm so that she was not looking away from him.
"No," he began, "No, you were going to say something else."
The Jedi glowered, "I merely stated who you used to be before—and if you must ask, I said so because, I believe you did not need my aid at the beginning of your training—the two occupations I mentioned already taught you quite a few important things."
Ariv let her arm go and, "Why lieutenant?" Bastila taunted, "Do you have something to hide?" He remembered her angered claims seconds ago and said, "Do you, Jedi? I doubt the Council would like hearing about their perfect little padawan having such deep seated resentment."
Bastila took a shuddering breath, "Are you threatening me?" she asked.
Ariv blinked. "...No, of course not." He sighed, "We both have issues, ok? Let's just…I don't know…keep it between ourselves? The Council does not need to know everything." He added, pointedly and shockingly Bastila did not lecture him and instead agreed. He couldn't believe they had let their wrath get the better of them—they were supposed to be better, for fuck's sake.
The very first line of the Jedi code said that there is no emotion, there is peace. Even as short-tempered as they could both be, it usually took more to rile them to such an extent.
"Now," Ariv said, "Back to what we were really talking about. You and I both know that I will pass my trials—and I am not speaking from any delusions of grandeur, but from conviction. I've done nothing but train for the last few months."
Bastila nodded, albeit hesitantly and that surprised Ariv—he assumed that she did not think he could actually go through with the trials and become a Jedi. He took it as a sign to continue, "You feel it too, don't you?" he asked softly and Bastila looked up at him.
"You know that this won't end here and now, that me becoming a Jedi is just the beginning. Whatever hand the fates have dealt us—we will be together," he said, repeating what he had told her last night and Bastila said, softly, "...Yes."
"So you understand that we must try to work with each other—I know we disagree over a lot of things, I know I hold conflicting opinions over what you hold dear, but you must know–this—" he said, gesturing to the calm plains stretching all around him, "—is the safest we'll ever be and I need you to understand—" Bastila's eyes flickered to something around them and widened with horror, her hand reaching for her lightsaber.
Seconds later he heard low growls coming from around them. Kriff, he had forgotten about the kath hounds and an entire pack was surrounding them.
"Ok, so like I said, we need to stick together," he said, pulling out a blaster and Bastila scoffed seeing the weapon.
"What?" he asked, flicking the safety off, "These are a part of your trials," Bastila answered, disdain lacing her tone, "As a Jedi, you will have a more refined weapon than a clumsy blaster."
"Fine," he huffed, pulling out his vibroblades instead—even though a blaster was a more logical choice—and fell into a defensive opening stance. Bastila ignited her golden saber with snap-hiss but stood to the side, observing what he would do, but ready in case his life was in danger.
Come on, Ariv thought, eyeing the beasts that circled him. He reached out, letting the force flow through him and the feeling was almost euphoric, his senses were on high alert—he could feel everything; the darkness that had almost steeped into the ground—the murderous intent of the creatures, the light and concern from Bastila.
This would be the first time he had ever used the force openly in combat, the power thrummed beneath his fingers, so familiar and so very good—and it made him feel like he'd welcomed a long-lost friend home, like he could bend the very stars to his will, like he could do anything.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
A/N : first update of the new year–whoo hoo! i can't believe its been like half a year since i started this fic and i'm not even done with dantooine ? but (finally!) publishing a fic after lurking in star wars fandom and regularly reading fics for 4 years has been one of the highlights of this year, so thank you, dear readers, for your support ✨
i wish everyone a happy new year ❤️ may the force be with you!
also this fic is up on ao3, where the formatting is kinda easier so you can check it out here!