In retrospect, Seth probably should have clarified with Bastila what "Jedi Academy" meant before they arrived at their destination, but he had to admit that spending the hyperspace journey with Mission fast asleep in his arms in the cargo hold was worth the distraction. He'd attempted to get some sleep as well, shutting his eyes with his cheek laid against the top of her head, but his mind was racing far too fast to allow any genuine rest.

When Bastila had mentioned that they would be traveling to a Jedi Academy, Seth had assumed she was referring to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. The idea of returning to what he considered his homeworld had him on edge; he'd be setting foot on the planet an entirely different young man than he'd been when he'd left just a few months earlier.

He'd seen a lot in his young life, even before his crash-landing on Taris. His youth on Coruscant had been governed by the influence of the gang culture that consumed the planet's lower levels. He'd seen crime and murder and betrayal within the ranks of those who'd raised him and had even seen a man die by his own hand at the age of ten. He could hardly say that the military was responsible for the loss of his innocence. His years at the Coruscant Military Academy had been some of the most stable of his life, in fact.

But experiencing his first battle as a soldier and his first mission behind enemy lines had been just another benchmark in his young life that marked a significant change in his life. Watching Trask sacrifice his life to save him, as well as Draven to save him and Mission both, made him infinitely grateful for the brotherhood he'd joined when he'd sworn into the military. Having a man like Carth as his mentor filled the gap left by life as an orphan, and having Mission by his side had shown him the beauty of letting others into his life.

He was now one of the most accomplished soldiers of his rank within the Republic, owner of one of the fastest ships in the outer rim, and considered a potential Force-sensitive by one of the most powerful Jedi in the Order.

And he had who he considered to be one of the most beautiful girls in the galaxy asleep against his chest.

Yes, his life had changed significantly since he'd first set foot on the Endar Spire.

Mission shifted in his arms, then, stirring as she woke. She blinked a few times as she adjusted to the dim lighting, and glanced up at Seth with a lazy smile. "Hey," she mumbled.

He squeezed his arms around her waist gently in response. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good, all things considered," she said honestly before a joking smile cracked her features. "Had a crazy dream that we gave into all that tension between us and finally kissed."

"Yeah?" He smiled, playing along. "Was it good enough to want to do again?"

She shrugged, smirking coyly. "I don't know; I may need a reminder."

Seth grinned, cupping her face in his hand as he leaned into her, their lips meeting each others' halfway. He felt warmth course through his body like electricity as she reciprocated his enthusiasm, fisting the front of his jacket to pull him even closer.

"Guess it wasn't a dream," Mission laughed as they pulled apart. She withdrew herself from his embrace, sitting up with her back against a durasteel crate to look him in the eye, much more solemn. "So what exactly does this mean? What are we?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, to be honest. I don't even know if I'm being reassigned by high command, or if I'm continuing to serve under Captain Onasi or Commander Shan, or if I've earned myself some shore leave. But I think whatever lies ahead for us all at the Jedi Academy Bastila's taking us to will provide some answers."

She frowned. "Jedi Academy? Why are we stopping there?"

Seth shrugged. "Because that's where Bastila needs us to go, and she's calling the shots."

He didn't miss the look of displeasure on her face. "Oh, of course."

"You really don't like her, do you?"

"She hasn't really given me a reason to like her."

"Well, maybe she'll give you a reason yet. I'm gonna go check in on everyone up in the cockpit and see what our ETA is, if you wanna come with?"

Mission shook her head as they both stood up. "Nah, I should probably check in on Big Z and see how he's handling the space travel. I mean, I know he's been in space before, considering his heritage on Kashyyyk, but he's been planetside ever since then. Can't imagine his space legs have been stretched in a while."

Seth nodded, but offered his hand to her nonetheless, entwining his fingers with hers as they made the walk from the cargo hold to the Ebon Hawk's main hold and only separating once their paths diverged.

He joined Carth and Bastila in the cockpit just in time to watch the Ebon Hawk drop out of hyperspace in front of a vast green world that was distinctly not Coruscant. He glanced at Bastila in bewilderment. "Wait, I thought we were going to see the Jedi Council."

"We are," she replied simply.

He threw a sidelong glance at Carth, who was no help in clarification. "Ma'am, isn't the Jedi Council on Coruscant?"

"The High Council is, yes," she explained. "But the Council of the particular branch of Jedi government that assigned me to the Endar Spire mission is housed on Dantooine."

"Huh," Seth hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I've seen more than enough of Coruscant in my lifetime. But what's next, ma'am? You deliver your debrief, and we all go our separate ways? Or is there more to your mission?"

Bastila shook her head. "I can't say, yet, Private. That's a matter best left to the Jedi Council. I'd like you and Carth to both be there for the mission debrief, however. As soldiers of the Republic, your input on the events that occurred on Taris is vital to my report."

"Yes ma'am," Seth and Carth agreed in unison.

As Carth brought the Ebon Hawk closer to the planet's surface, Bastila placed a hand on Seth's shoulder. "You asked where I thought we were headed next, Private Avery, and although the will of the Council is yet to be determined, I do sense that our adventures together have not yet concluded."

"If that's the case, ma'am, then I look forward to continuing our work together," he responded warmly and genuinely.

"As do I, Private," she replied, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. "As do I."

The Jedi Academy was simply decorated, but architecturally marvelous to Seth as he stood at the center of its council chamber beneath a vaulted ceiling. Unlike Taris' duracrete 'jungle' of skyscrapers, the academy's structure seemed to flow with the natural rise and fall of Dantooine's sloping hills. Seth tried his hardest to let the gentle curve of the academy's walls and the soft filtering of Dantooine's sunlight through the windows calm his racing heart as Jedi Master Vandar Tokare looked him up and down.

The four Jedi who made up the academy's Council had been stealing glances at him throughout Bastila's debrief of the events on Taris, but now that she'd finished recanting the tale, he was the center of their unprecedented attention. "Interesting," Vandar murmured, continuing to eye Seth curiously. "Very interesting."

Seth shifted his weight from his left leg to his right leg nervously. He glanced over at Bastila for support but found none. The halls of a Jedi Academy were no place for sympathy, it seemed, no matter how young one was. He swallowed hard before speaking. "I'm sorry, sir, but… what exactly is so interesting?"

Master Zhar Lestin, a tall lethan twi'lek, answered plainly. "You. The Force presses heavily upon your future, young Avery. Heavily enough to consider you a candidate for training as a member of our esteemed Order."

Seth reeled, unable to form the words necessary to reply at the dizzying concept of his potential as a student of the Jedi. Master Vrook Lamar, an older human with an obvious chip on his shoulder, shook his balding head, however, his eyes narrowed at his companion. "Perhaps Master Zhar is jumping to conclusions," he said bitterly. "We need indisputable proof of your affinity for the Force before even considering you for training."

While Seth could tell that the other three masters were now staring at Vrook incredulously, it was Bastila who spoke first. She kept herself composed, restraining the fiery attitude he'd seen while under her command on Taris, but her grey eyes lit with barely contained indignation. "Master, I have already relayed to you the events that occurred on Taris in full detail. Seth not only became the first human to survive the Taris Season Opener swoop race but won. He obtained the starship we arrived on without my assistance as the Sith were laying waste to the city, and managed to get us all out of there alive. He defeated a warrior trained in the dark side of the Force, an adept who even I could not stand against."

"We can clearly feel the power within the boy," Zhar added.

"Of course we can," the academy's historian, Master Dorak agreed. "Vrook, we can't afford to simply turn a blind eye to this boy. Between the obvious indications to his connection to the Force and his heritage, we can't ignore the fact that the Force itself has led him to us, and us to this tipping point."

Seth's head snapped up, his attention fully on Dorak. "My heritage?" he repeated, the single word catching his attention.

Vrook glared at his comrade. "Master Dorak! That's enough."

Seth stepped forward, abandoning military protocol in search of insight into whatever the Jedi knew about him that he himself did not. "What are you talking about?"

"Master Dorak speaks out of turn," Vandar said gently. "And the Council has quite a bit to discuss in private. Padawan Shan, Private Avery, please leave us to our deliberations. You should rest after the events on Taris. We will summon you in the morning, and you will have answers to your burning questions, Private Avery."

Bastila bent low at her waist in a respectful bow. "As you wish, Master Vandar." She turned to leave, beckoning Seth with a wave of her arm, but Seth stood rooted in place, still absorbing the shock that was setting in at Master Dorak's words. The Padawan put a hand on his arm, grasping him by the arm. "Seth, come on!" she whispered harshly, half-dragging the boy from the council chambers.

He couldn't will himself to move beyond the academy's courtyard, so Bastila let her vice-grip on his bicep go and smoothed her robes. "We should follow the council's advice and rest, Private. They will answer your questions in the morning."

"I'll be back at the Ebon Hawk in a bit," he mumbled. "I just… need to think."

She gave a short sigh of resignation. "Fine, I expect you to be back shortly," she told him curtly, making her orders to her subordinate clear before turning on heel and striding across the courtyard to the doors leading to the Ebon Hawk's landing pad.

Seth braced himself against on of the courtyard's duracrete walls for a moment before sliding down the vertical surface to take a dazed seat in the grass, the Jedi master's words echoing in his head. There was something about the familiarity with the subject of his "heritage" with which Dorak spoke that gave Seth the unsettling feeling that the man wasn't simply referring to the details that his Republic service record or psych profile unveiled.

There was a small chance that Dorak could have been referring to Seth's childhood on Coruscant and the members of the Black Sun gang who raised him, facts that the boy was never eager to share with others but also wasn't one to hide – the information was accessible enough to the Jedi through Republic intel. But Seth felt a stirring in his soul, a deep sense that the Jedi master hadn't simply been talking about who raised him.

His family had always been a mystery, one that he'd put behind him long ago when it had become apparent that dwelling on who they were wasn't going to make up for the fact that they weren't there, and that he'd likely never find out. But now, realizing that details he'd spent a majority of his youth dreaming about unveiling were now within his reach caused a long-forgotten longing to stir within his soul.

He wasn't sure what disturbed him more: the fact that old wounds had just been torn open, or the fact that the Jedi seemed adamant about keeping the information to themselves.

"So, I'm guessing you didn't see the keep off the grass sign at the courtyard entrance?"

Mission's joking voice was a welcome sound, and he glanced over at her as she plopped down to sit next to him. "Kidding," she clarified. "There aren't any signs, though judging by the people I've encountered here so far I wouldn't be surprised if someone did yell at us for sitting in the grass."

Her smile faded when she noticed how quiet and distant her companion was, and she placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged, unwilling to force her to bear the burden of his current situation when he knew she was still reeling from the shock of watching her world burn. "Just a long debrief," he mumbled. "I'm tired."

Chestnut eyes narrowed, and he already knew he'd been caught in a lie. "So you decided to sit down in the grass instead of walking the extra, what, two hundred meters back to the Hawk?" she deadpanned. "I'm not an idiot, Seth. What's up?"

He sighed heavily. "I think the Jedi know what happened to my parents."

Mission's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? What makes you think that?"

"One of the Jedi on the Council mentioned something about my heritage like he knows who I am and where I came from. But they shooed Bastila and I out before I could ask for clarification. In fact, one of the masters seemed pretty intent on making sure I never even got that clarification."

Mission made a move to stand, fingers curling into a fist. "Those sons of schuttas! They have no right-"

Seth caught her wrist in his grip and held tight. "Yelling at them isn't gonna do any good. If anything, it'll make them less likely to give me any answers in the morning."

She sighed, relaxing her fist and instead choosing to interlock her fingers with his. "Sorry… I just… I know what it's like to have a big fat question mark when it comes to family, and it's not right for them to hold any information like that from you. If someone knew where Griff was and refused to tell me, I'd… I don't' know what I'd do, but it sure wouldn't be pretty."

Seth smiled. "Trust me, part of me feels like doing that right now. But I trust Bastila, and she said I'd get some answers if I waited, so… I'm waiting."

Mission shrugged. "Bastila also said we'd like it here, and this planet is probably as bland as the old rations the Beks had stockpiled up at their base." She smiled sadly as she reminisced, then quickly changed the subject. "Hey, Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"You think we'll both find answers out here?" she asked. "If the Jedi send you with Bastila again, and if I come with… you think you could find out where you came from and I could… I don't know… find Griff?" She trailed off, laughing quietly at herself. "I sound like an idealist, don't I? I know it's unlikely, but I can't help but hope."

Seth simply smiled, pulling her close and pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "If hope is still something we can manage to hold onto, we have to hold tight and refuse to let it go. You'll see Griff again, Mission. I promise."

She smiled, playfully socking him in the shoulder. "You're cute when you're supportive, you know that?" She slipped her hand back into his and tugged him with her in the direction from the Ebon Hawk and for the moment, the ache for answers that had settled upon Seth's chest dissipated as he followed this incredible young woman he'd been given the opportunity to know.

He wasn't sure about the Force – how it worked, if it really was all-controlling, or if it somehow had a magnificent destiny for him, but as he pressed his lips to Mission's before they retreated to their separate dormitories that night, he couldn't help but whisper a prayer of thanks to the Force for where it had led him so far. He settled into his bunk blissfully, the concerns of Jedi masters and the unanswered questions forgotten as he slipped into the oblivion of sleep.

Until the nightmares began.

He'd never seen them in person, but Seth could instantly recognize the two figures stalking darkly through his dream-state. Darth Revan walked with shoulders squared proudly, continuing forth despite the quiet protests of the taller Sith Lord trailing behind.

Head meticulously shaven, Malak stood well over six inches above his master. His jaw, Seth noted, was not the cold durasteel prosthetic that had come to be feared across the galaxy but instead was genuine flesh and bone and set in quiet defiance. Whatever Seth was seeing had to have happened a long time ago.

"We shouldn't be doing this," the tattooed Sith Lord insisted. Revan simply kept walking, head facing forward as if Malak wasn't there. "The ancient Jedi sealed this gateway," he continued. Receiving no response, he quickened his stride until he stood before his master. Malak fixed Revan with a desperate look as if he could see directly into the eyes behind the mask. "Once we pass, we can never go back. The Council will expel us from the Order."

Revan's voice was cold and confident in reply. "We already stepped off that path when we decided to reject the Code."

Malak's concerned facial expression did little to hide his lingering doubt. "Is the Star Forge truly worth the risk?"

Revan whirled around in that moment, placing a hand on Malak's shoulder and looking every bit as in command of the situation as the stories Seth had heard portrayed the Dark Lord to be. "Remember why we're doing this," Malak's master said earnestly. "We can't allow the galaxy to forever be trapped in a state of war. We don't want that for the next generation. This is the only way we can ensure peace for the galaxy."

Malak simply nodded, stepping out of his master's way. Together, they reached out through the Force and opened the door in front of them, revealing a strange, alien device that illuminated the room in its glow. The two Sith Lords passed through the archway, and the last thing Seth saw was the door slamming shut behind them.

Seth was jolted from his sleep in an instant, bolting upright into a sitting position and taking a moment to catch his breath. He could hear the noise of Canderous and Zaalbar's heavy breathing from the bunks on either side of him, indicating that the time still sat somewhere within the early hours of the morning. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, before swinging his feet over the edge of his bunk and allowing his bare feet to make contact with the cold metal flooring of the Ebon Hawk with a shiver.

He stood with a sigh, grabbing a shirt from his footlocker and pulling it over his head before shuffling into the main hold. He could hear commotion in the refresher from across the room and leaned up against the center console to both collect himself and see who was awake during these early hours.

He didn't have to wait long, for nearly a minute later the door to the refresher slid open and Mission stepped out, freshly showered and dressed and ready for the day ahead of them. She smiled when she met his green eyes from across the room. "Hey bed-head, you're up early."

Seth's cheeks burned with embarrassment as he brought a self-conscious hand to his head. Sure enough, he could feel his hair, which had long since grown past regulation length, sticking out in every which way. She laughed at his reaction, crossing the hold to grab him gently by the wrist and pull his hands away from his hair. "Stop it," she said with a chuckle. "If you thought I liked you for your hair, I've gotta tell you that you're sorely mistaken."

"You're in a good mood," he remarked, smiling down at her.

She leaned back against the center console, dragging him with her by their interlocked fingers. "I managed to get through the night without any nightmares about Taris. It's nice to wake up and not feel so empty."

He allowed himself a humorless laugh at the irony. "Huh, yeah, I can imagine it is."

She glanced up at him with concern. "I take it you weren't so lucky… you're having nightmares again?"

"Sort of," he mumbled, unsure of how much he was willing to share with her. "It felt so real, it seemed like more of a memory or a vision than anything else."

"A memory of what?"

He sighed heavily. "Nothing from my past, that's for sure. I saw Revan and Malak, right around the time they betrayed the Jedi, I think."

"You saw what?" Bastila's voice rang clearly through the main hold as she entered from the cockpit, her face white as a sheet.

Seth let go of Mission's hand quickly and turned to face the Jedi Commander. "Uh… Revan and Malak, ma'am. They seemed to be searching for something."

"That is… unsettling," Bastila murmured, her voice composed even as her demeanor was visibly shaken. "I must go speak with the Council immediately; Private, I ask that you clean up and join me as soon as possible."

"Will do, Ma'am," Seth responded dutifully, watching as she nodded and turned to exit the main hold. Mission's fingers gently pressed into his shoulder in quiet support.

"Why do you think the Council needs to see you?" she asked.

He sighed. "They're considering accepting me for Jedi training."

Mission's eyes went wide. "What?" she asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Seth shrugged, defeated. "I had a lot on my mind yesterday, and honestly I didn't really feel like facing any of it, least of all that."

"Why not?"

He turned to face her fully, green eyes piercing into brown. "Because I don't think I even want to be a Jedi, Mission. They'll ruin me."

"It can't be any worse than the military," she reasoned.

"Yeah, it can," he insisted. "A soldier can get angry, get attached, fall in love… A soldier can be human. A Jedi… well, a Jedi's supposed to be an emotionless machine of justice and peace. I don't know if I'm cut out for that."

She threaded her fingers with his once again and stood up on her tiptoes to press a feather-light kiss to his cheekbone. "You don't have to become anyone other than who you already are, Seth, regardless of how things go down in there. That's who got you through running with gangs on Coruscant, that's who got you through the military academy, and that's who led all of us through everything that happened back on Taris. Who you are right now is enough, and no amount of Jedi training is going to take that away."

He smiled, pulling her into his chest and embracing her tightly. "You're cute when you're supportive," he joked.

"Yeah, yeah," she responded with a laugh. "Go get dressed, you've got a Council to impress."

The atmosphere in the Jedi Council Chambers had been no more inviting than it was during his previous visit, Seth noted as he stood outside the doors with Carth, wondering what the Jedi were deliberating within. After a short but succinct discussion of his dream, Seth had learned that Bastila had shared in his experience of the nightmare as well and that it was indeed a vision. The Jedi had explained that the link between his and Bastila's minds during the vision were the result of an exceptionally powerful Force bond, which hadn't meant much to Seth due to his limited understanding of the Force other than the fact that Bastila was acutely aware of most of the stronger emotions that passed through his mind. While it was a little unsettling that his privacy was not as secure as he'd originally thought, Seth managed to find it comforting that, at the very least, he was never truly alone.

He found that he'd been having to search for the bright side of things quite often recently.

"Stop fidgeting," Carth instructed as he leaned against a nearby wall. Seth stilled his movement instantly, and the captain allowed a small smile to crack his features. "Why are you out here, exactly?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at Seth's sudden departure from the room.

"They're deciding whether or not they want to train me as a Jedi right now," Seth explained, the very notion that he'd just described still a wholly alien concept to him. He could hardly imagine himself going through the training, let alone actually becoming a Jedi Knight.

Carth nodded slowly as he took in Seth's explanation. "And, from what you can tell, does it seem like they're going to choose to train you?"

Seth shrugged. "I don't really know. When I was in there they were all as stoic as ever, so their demeanor definitely didn't indicate their leaning toward any particular decision regarding me. But, I don't know Carth, I've got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that they're going to go through with this."

"That might just be the nerves talking, Seth," Carth said gently, placing a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. "Whatever happens in there, you're a great soldier and an even greater kid. You've got a bright future ahead of you no matter where you end up."

He attempted a half-hearted smile. "Thank you, sir. Honestly, above anything, I just want to know what they know about my parents."

"Aside from the obvious," Carth mused, "why?"

"What do you mean?" Seth asked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"All I'm saying is that you might find out some stuff about your parents that won't please you. You've said you were found by the Coruscanti gangs as a child, abandoned down in the lower levels. You don't know why you were left down there, but the answers you're seeking might do more harm than good."

Seth sighed heavily, meeting Carth's steady gaze with his own. "If you had a chance to know what happened to Dustil, wouldn't you take it? Even if the news wasn't what you were looking for?"

He almost regretted bringing the captain's son up when he saw the pain cross through Carth's whiskey-colored eyes. The veteran was silent for a moment before nodding slowly in acquiescence. "I would," he said quietly. "Without a second thought."

Seth opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by the sound of the Council Chamber doors hissing as they slid open. Bastila stood in the opening, grey eyes falling upon the young man in front of her. "Come, Seth," she said simply.

He couldn't help but notice, as he followed after her, that she hadn't called him "Private Avery" for once. The feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified, and he glanced backward at Carth, who gave an encouraging thumbs-up before the doors slid shut once again.

Seth followed Bastila toward the center of the chamber on legs he was sure were about to give out at any second. He kept his eyes downcast, unnerved by the fact that each of the Jedi Masters once again had their eyes fixed upon him. For a long while, the only sound Seth could hear was his own heartbeat thrumming against his eardrums.

"Seth, the Council has come to a decision regarding your potential within the ranks of the Jedi Order," Bastila's voice cut through the silence, and he was thankful how her cool and collected demeanor brought a sense of calm to his soul. He wondered for a moment if that sense of calm had anything to do with the newly-discovered bond between them.

"And…?" Seth replied nervously.

Zhar cleared his throat before speaking, and the boy's green eyes snapped over to focus his attention on the Twi'lek Jedi Master. "We've decided that we have no choice but to train you in the ways of the Jedi. Between your bond with Bastila and your visions of Revan and Malak, you may very well be the key to winning this war alongside Bastila."

Before Seth could react, Vrook spoke up, his old eyes narrowing at the young man before him. "Do not, however, let your mind be filled with delusions of glory and power. Such thoughts lead only to the dark side."

"Sir, I promise you, the last thing on my mind right now is glory," Seth responded.

"Your committed service to the Republic military proves that well enough," Vandar encouraged. "I'm sure you will prove to show just as much dedication to our Order. Your training shall commence immediately, as we have no time to lose. Please exercise patience throughout the process; the training of a Jedi takes many months, in some cases years. You, like Bastila, have a connection to the Force more powerful than we've seen in years which will help speed up the process but time will still move slower than you wish. We are not trying to hold you back, but instead, ensure that you are prepared to face the dangers of the galaxy and within yourself when your training is complete."

Seth nodded, saluting out of routine. "Yes, sir."

"We look forward to your progress," Zhar told him. "We've gone ahead and sent the Republic a request for your extended leave of absence, alongside Captain Onasi's, as his role as a mentor during your time on Taris will prove invaluable as a resource for your training. The Ebon Hawk will remain grounded throughout the duration of your training; you'll find that everything you or your crew needs can be found here on Dantooine."

"And speaking of your crew," Vrook cut in, "we know that you and your friends endured much together on Taris. It may be tempting to form attachments with them, especially the Twi'lek girl. We trust that you will avoid such temptation?"

Seth froze, the sensation of an icy hand clenching around his heart forming in his chest. His blossoming relationship with Mission wasn't just one of the few bright spots shining through the darkness that had consumed his life since childhood, but it was one of the only things keeping him sane throughout the recent mess his life had dealt him. He'd only just now began to indulge in the bliss that their closeness provided after weeks of refusing to act on his feelings, and he couldn't imagine cutting that out of his life.

He nodded curtly at the Jedi Council before following out of the chamber, silently resigning to cooperate with anything else the Jedi asked him to do but fully intending to keep his relationship with Mission just the way it was.

He couldn't let go of her now. No fracking way.

Three weeks after his apprenticeship to Master Zhar began, Seth sat alone in the garage of the Ebon Hawk, his focus zeroed in on Mission's hydrospanner, which was sitting on the floor in front of him. Reaching out a hand to better channel the energy field surrounding him, he took a deep breath and opened his mind to the Force as he'd been told. He flicked his wrist in a simple command to the Force in order to bring the tool up into the air. Nothing happened.

Seth released the breath he'd been holding, then took another, this time reaching out with both hands and staring down at the hydrospanner. The stubborn object remained in the middle of the floor, unmoving. The teenager paused for a moment, rubbing his temples in frustration and recalling Zhar's words just hours before.

"Be patient. It usually takes months for one to develop their ability to channel the Force enough to manipulate objects. You'll be able to do it on a moment's notice eventually, but at the beginning, it helps to clear your mind of everything but the task before you. The Force is your companion, not your enemy. Guide it towards the goal you wish to accomplish and it will help to control your actions."

Zhar had been adamant in explaining that Seth was already progressing quickly through the training and that he did not have to exert himself as he did, but the boy knew that the words were empty. Zhar knew as well as anyone that they didn't have time to spend months simply learning the basics. If Seth was going to help Bastila stop Malak, he needed to be able to manipulate the Force as well as an experienced Jedi Knight, and in half the time it took to become a Padawan.

It felt as if the Jedi Order had single-handedly put the weight and pressure of the entire galaxy on his shoulders. He'd felt that weight in every waking moment of his training and studying, aching by the time he slugged back toward the Ebon Hawk so that he could collapse onto his bunk and prepare to start all over again. His only respite was found in his time with Mission, late at night while the others slept. It was the only time they could indulge in their relationship, as Seth had to keep a tight lock on displaying his affection for her in front of the others in order to keep the Masters off his back. He had a sneaking suspicion that Bastila knew he harbored feelings for the Twi'lek due to the shared bond between them, but he doubted she knew it had progressed beyond anything more than a boyish crush.

Seth shook the thoughts of Mission away sheepishly. "Clear your mind," he muttered to himself, allowing his head to empty save for the image of the hydrospanner, which remained clearly visible even behind closed eyes.

He opened the channel between himself and the Force once again, feeling it flow from head to toe and back again. Lifting his hand, he silently urged the force with a simple command: Lift. Feeling the Force gather around him, acting almost as an extension of his arm, he flexed his fingers upward. The object shakily rose a few inches off the ground, and with it the effort Seth needed to exert to keep it afloat nearly doubled. He felt his brow furrow as he shook away the dizziness and forced the hydrospanner a few inches further into the air.

"Kid!"

He heard the faint echo of Canderous' voice bounce around the space inside his mind, weaving in and out of conscious thought. The hydrospanner began to tremble in the air, and Seth willed himself to focus all the strength he could muster on silencing the voice of the Mandalorian in order to still the quaking tool levitating before him.

"Avery!" Canderous shouted, much louder than before. The veteran mercenary grabbed Seth roughly by the shoulder and shook him from his trance. The hydrospanner clattered to the floor loudly.

Seth gasped, gulping in breaths of oxygen to fill his suddenly empty lungs as he glared up at Canderous. "What was that for? I've been trying to get that thing in the air for the past three hours!"

"I'm sorry," Canderous growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Next time I see you turning blue, I'll leave you alone."

"Huh?" Seth questioned dumbly.

"While you were having fun with your little magic trick there, you forgot to breathe, Master Jedi," Canderous sneered before stalking off towards the galley and leaving Seth exhaustedly collapsing against the garage's workbench.

It wasn't long before he sensed Mission's unique Force signature drawing close. Swallowing momentary pride at the fact that he'd managed to sense another's presence through the Force as if it were second nature, Seth turned just in time to see her lean up against the frame of the garage door. "Didn't know forgetting to breathe was a quintessential part of Jedi training," she mused, smirking down at the young man on the floor.

Seth rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't believe the effort it takes just to get a damn hydrospanner a couple inches off the ground."

She crossed the garage and pulled herself up into a sitting position on the pontoon of the swoop bike Davik had kept stored in the Ebon Hawk's garage. "You've been at this for less than a month, Seth. It's okay if you're taking a while to get the hang of things."

"It's not, though," he grumbled, standing up and crossing the distance between them. "If I'm going to be sent with Bastila on a mission as critical as they're making it seem, I have to be at the top of my game. And besides, you guys can't leave the planet until my training's complete, so I'd rather not keep you any longer than necessary."

Mission just laughed, taking his hand in her own. "You are such a nerf herder, you know that? Carth, Canderous, Big Z and I don't want to leave you. You know we'll stick by you and Bastila for whatever crazy adventure they send you on next, right?"

He pulled their hands up to his lips and kissed her blue skin gently. "Thanks for the pep talk."

She shrugged. "It's what I'm here for. Now quit it with the PDA; Bastila's in the room next door."

"Then she's definitely not in here to see me do this," he announced smugly.

He didn't give Mission a chance to respond and ask what he meant, but then again, she couldn't really complain when he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips fervently to hers.

One month later, Seth realized that Bastila wasn't going easy on him anymore.

The thought knocked him off-balance for a fraction of a second, and he suddenly found himself on the defensive, blocking the full arsenal of Bastila's physical prowess from slicing him in half.

Perhaps if they hadn't been using real swords, Seth would have felt more at ease, but in this moment, Bastila provided a legitimate threat to his life. He knew she would never hurt him on purpose, and his proficiency in combat had advanced tremendously in the weeks that encompassed his training, but he was still an apprentice. His training had taken a dangerous turn as the Jedi sought to show him that the Sith would not ease up simply because of his youth. They would kill him if they got the chance.

It wasn't a notion that he was foreign to; the military had taught him the same thing. But Seth couldn't deny that compared to melee combat, the battles he'd trained for and participated in as a soldier were cold and detached. When he was blade-to-blade with his opponent, the fight became more intimately and emotionally charged, and the thought that the Sith acolytes could look into the eyes of their opponent and easily watch their life sap away unnerved him, to say the least.

He felt rather than saw the path that Bastila's double-bladed sword carved through the air in a sweeping arc over his head, and instinctively flicked his own blade up to meet it, before tossing his sword back down to block the inevitable counter-strike from the opposite blade. Two resounding clangs rang throughout the dueling chamber. He reached out with his senses to summon the Force and sent a chair from a corner of the room flying toward her. Bastila easily caught it in midair through her own connection to the Force, letting it clatter to the floor.

Seth wasn't a fool; he knew that at this stage in his training, he couldn't outmatch her abilities with the Force. But the feint gave him the second of distraction he needed, and he seized the opportunity. He crossed his sword around her lowest blade and flicked his wrist, twisting her arm around her back due to his own sheer physical strength – a strength even he often forgot years of intensive military training had afforded him. Seth danced behind her, out of reach, and kicked outward with his leg, knocking her to the ground. Bastila whirled around as she hit the floor, using the momentum to sweep her legs beneath his ankles in an attempt to trip him. The move had worked on him the last time they'd dueled, resulting in his sound defeat, but this time he knew what to look out for. He sensed the movement before it came, and leaped lightly into the air as her feet swept below him. He kicked her sword out of reach as he landed before summoning it to his hand through the Force.

For a long moment, the only noise between Seth and Bastila were those of labored breaths and exhausted groans. Seth held Bastila's sword out, allowing her to take it by the hilt before wiping sweat from his brow and sheathing his own sword. "How was that?" he asked, once he'd caught his breath.

Bastila brushed herself off casually. "Better," she mused. "Watch your form, though. You're getting sloppy and careless once you're on the offensive. Malak likely would have fried you with lightning as soon as you gave him an opening."

"I get the feeling this will never be easy," he sighed.

A rare smile crossed Bastila's face. "The life of a Jedi is never easy. But it is worth it." She hung her sword on the weapons rack near the door and turned to leave for the enclave's showers. She stopped at the doorway, however, turning to face the younger apprentice, the ghost of the smile still touching her lips. "I did mean what I said, however. About that duel being better. Your improvement hasn't gone unnoticed by myself or the masters on the Council." She nodded at him before exiting the room, and Seth blinked for a moment, trying to make sense of the fact that she'd just paid him a huge compliment.

He didn't have much time to sort out his thoughts, however, as Master Dorak entered the room at that moment. The historian smiled at Seth kindly. "Zhar's been telling us how well your training has progressed, but it was entirely different to see that for myself," he said, referring to the duel. "How much you've accomplished in just a few short weeks is nothing short of incredible."

"Thank you, Master," Seth said, bowing deeply as he'd picked up from Bastila, despite his gut instinct to simply salute as he had in the military.

"Keep up your studies, young Avery. Your future is bright," he encouraged, turning to leave as well. Seth watched him retreat for a moment before he lost self-control and blurted out the question that had burned in his mind for nearly two months, now.

"Wait! Master Dorak!" The aging Jedi turned to face Seth. "When I first came here, you mentioned that my heritage was a significant reason to accept me for training. Master, I don't know the first thing about where I came from… and if you know something…" He sighed nervously, all anticipation that had built over the past weeks culminating in a jumble of words he could hardly force out. "I just want to know where I came from."

Dorak sighed. "I can understand your curiosity. Vrook may disapprove, but I see no harm in telling you where you come from. If anything, perhaps there is a lesson to learn from your heritage."

Seth's heart leaped into his throat in anticipation. After so long, he was finally about to find answers to questions that had plagued him since childhood. "Please Master," he asked, trying his hardest to keep his desperation from surfacing in the tones of his voice.

"Very well," Dorak said resignedly. "You were born to two powerful members of our Order, who had secretly married without our knowledge before going off to fight in the Mandalorian War, alongside many Jedi who'd felt that the Order should have had a hand in the Republic's effort to win the war. Your mother actually trained under me for a while; she was one of the most outgoing, charismatic, brilliant and powerful students I've ever had the privilege to teach. Not unlike yourself, which is what prompted my remarks the day you arrived here on Dantooine."

"What happened to her?," Seth asked, feeling his throat constrict.

"Destroyed, by Revan and Malak," Dorak replied, pain evident in his voice. Seth felt his stomach drop and his head spin, but could not speak. "But not before she and your father had turned you over to the custody of the Jedi for safekeeping. We intended to take you to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and train you from birth, but our transport ship that had been carrying you was shot down upon entering Coruscant's orbit. When our search teams arrived at the wreckage in Corsuscant's undercity, you were missing and your escorts were killed. We believed you were dead for sixteen years until your name showed up on a list of recent graduates from Coruscant's military academy. We chose Bastila to oversee the ship you were assigned to and confirm that it was truly you. The events following the destruction of the Endar Spire proved that."

Seth's mind reeled, feeling flashes of his memory return and life events clicking into place. "Wow… I…" He pressed his palm against a nearby wall to steady his suddenly shaky legs. "Thank you for your honesty, Master, I just… I need to process this."

He didn't get to see Dorak nodding his head in understanding because his feet were moving of their own accord, past the Jedi Master and out of the room. Out of nowhere, he was suddenly sprinting, running to the Ebon Hawk. Within minutes, he'd made his way up the loading ramp and into the med-bay, where he sealed the door shut behind him and collapsed onto the single cot, hot tears stinging his eyes. An array of emotions welled up inside him that he was too upset and bewildered to even attempt to hide from Bastila via their bond.

"Seth?" Mission's voice called softly from outside the med-bay. For what seemed like the first time, he didn't want to be anywhere near her.

"Not now, Mish!" he snapped. He would have felt bad for his reaction to her presence had he not been caught up in the storm of everything else he was feeling:

Betrayal, because his parents had left him behind to run off and fight in some Force-forsaken war. Despair, because the little hope he had that his parents still lived had been instantly dashed away. Loss, because of the way his childhood had been stripped away in a single moment; he'd never bounced on his father's knee or hugged his mother goodnight, and he never would.

Hate.

The emotion he'd always tried to keep under wraps now consumed him completely, and he clenched his fists in anger. Bastila may have been there for the death of Revan, but that failed to offer any comfort knowing that Malak, the second offender who'd taken everything from him even before he'd learned to walk, was still out there. The man who had stripped him of his youth, his family, and even his brotherhood aboard the Endar Spire was storming the galaxy, leaving behind him a wake of destruction and despair like that he'd caused for the crew of the Ebon Hawk. Seth clenched his jaw, seething. Not one more life would be destroyed by Malak as his had been. Not one more orphaned child like Mission had been. Not one more displaced traveler like Zaalbar was. Not one more father mourning his wife and son like Carth had.

Not. One. More.

The mission against Malak had just gotten personal.