The familiar hum of lightsabers circling around one another brought Darth Bandon a sense of peace, as he glanced past the blade of his own 'saber to stare his opponent down. One of the many Sith acolytes sent up to the Leviathan from Korriban's academy stared right back. In his eyes, Bandon saw the firm acceptance the acolyte had on reality - that he wasn't there to prove his mettle in battle, or even win the sparring match. His role was simply to act as a living practice dummy for the dark lord's apprentice. He'd consider himself lucky to come out of this sparring match with his life, and was resigned to his fate as his part to play in the larger picture of the Sith cause.

On one hand, Bandon admired his dedication. On the other hand, he couldn't help but scoff at the acolyte's idealism. To put the "greater cause" over his own ambition proved that the acolyte likely wouldn't have made a very good Sith anyways. It was probably the reason he was selected to transfer from the Sith Academy to serve aboard the Leviathan.

Bandon breathed in deeply, connecting with the simmering anger that raged within him every single day. He allowed his mind to wander deep into the recesses of his most painful memories. He felt the sting of his mother's hand across his six-year-old face. He saw the gangster's blaster bolt that took his father's life. He remembered the way Malak's Force lightning coursed throughout his body at every small error or mistake made in the training rooms aboard the Sith flagships he'd spent the past fourteen years of his life living aboard. The anger boiled up inside him like lava to the mouth of a volcano, and with a heavy exhale Bandon harnessed total control, the power of the Force welling up inside him with such ferocity he was sure he could feel his fists vibrating.

With his heightened senses, Bandon could see the knot forming between the acolyte's brows in anticipation of the first strike. He could hear the hitch in his opponent's breathing. He could feel the beads of sweat beginning to slide down his bare torso in the hot and humid environment of the sparring chamber. Looking back into the eyes of the acolyte across from him once more, Bandon allowed a small smirk to cross his features before launching forward with a flurry of lightsaber strokes.

The acolyte's ability to parry each of Bandon's advances surprised him momentarily, and he drew back from his high-energy approach to focus on bringing his lightsaber down upon his opponent with precise, heavy strikes. He swung his lightsaber low, forcing the acolyte to drop his own 'saber to block the blow, before channeling his connection to the Force outward to strike the younger Sith with a Force Push that acted more like a massive punch to the gut. The acolyte doubled over, throwing his hand out to ward off Bandon's advancement with lightning springing forth from his fingertips. Bandon swung his own hand up to quickly intercept the lightning, easily taking hold of it via the Force and redirecting it toward the acolyte. The force of the blast knocked his opponent halfway across the room, the acolyte landing in an unconscious heap on the floor.

Bandon's lightsaber deactivated with a hiss, and his boots thudded heavily against the durasteel floor as he approached his downed opponent.

"Leave him."

The metallic voice from the corner of the room caused Bandon to pause, but not to look up. "Am I not to finish this fight, Master?"

"You know as well as I do that the battle was finished before it even began," Malak replied, crossing his arms over his broad chest. This time, Bandon turned to look his master in the eye, the hard and hateful gaze that had caused him to flinch as a boy now only serving to fuel his power.

"I sense there's more you wish to speak of than my sparring practice," Bandon remarked.

Malak's cool gaze bore down on Bandon, the dark lord undeterred by his apprentice's snark. "Your training has paid off. Gather your things. I'm sending you to track down the Jedi and the Republic soldiers who escaped Taris."

"I won't fail you, my Master."

"You had better not, Bandon. Come back with Bastila and the boy alive, or not at all."

It felt real.

It felt cold and dry and dark, and Seth couldn't shake the feeling of unease and utter dread as he looked through eyes that weren't his at the blurry form of an opening Star Map deep within the recesses of a craggy subterranean chamber.

He was grateful for the slender blue fingers that tenderly shook him by the shoulder to wake him, and even more grateful to wake up to Mission's comforting and gentle presence. He woke with a start, breathing heavily as he came out of the vision and into reality, a sheen of sweat covering his body and his hand flying up to lace his fingers with Mission's in order to ground himself in that reality.

She took her free hand to gently run a hand through his hair, tucking the longer strands behind his ears. "We're about to land on Tatooine," she told him. "Bad dream?"

"They're all bad when you're seeing the galaxy through Revan and Malak's eyes," Seth replied with a heavy exhale. He took their joined hands and held them to his heart, allowing them both to feel his heartbeat return to normal. "I'll be alright. It's becoming my new normal. To see them, to feel them."

Mission's lips quirked to one side in a disapproving frown. "It shouldn't have to be your new normal," she told him. "We'll find the Star Forge, and then this'll all be over. We're halfway there."

"I suppose I should get up so we can get to it, then," he said with a simple shrug before leaning into Mission's touch. "I'd be lying if I said that part of me didn't want to stay here in this bunk with you by my side, though."

"And if we hadn't decided we were going to try to just be friends, I just might let you," Mission replied, a soft laugh escaping her lips. She pulled her hand from his, hesitating for a moment as her fingers lingered on his chest, feeling the comforting thud of his heart pulsing beneath before drawing back and standing up. "Bastila's waiting in the main hold for you. I think she wants to brainstorm a bit on where the Star Map might be according to your visions so that we can find the best place to land when–" She paused at the way Seth's emerald eyes locked with hers, the corners of his mouth drawn up in a contented smile. "What?"

"Nothing," Seth said quickly, dropping his gaze though the smile remained stretching across his features. "We'd better get out there, huh?" He swung his legs over the side of his bunk, stood to his feet, and for a fleeting moment, stretched his hand out to grab hers before thinking better of it and instead clapping her on the shoulder before moving past her into the main hold.

Bastila's brows were drawn and her lips pursed, and when Seth walked in the room she didn't look up from the massive projection of the planet of Tatooine that sprung up from the holotable and cast a faint blue glow across her porcelain features. "I suppose you weren't so lucky to have seen any form of remarkable landmarks in your vision of the Star Map that could paint some sort of picture of where we should start our search?"

Seth stifled a yawn as he braced his forearms against the table's edge and leaned forward to examine the display. "Not really," he said. "Probably got the same mental picture as you. I can tell it's not just out in the open desert somewhere, it looked like it was tucked away in a cave."

"Which likely bodes well for us," Bastila considered, tapping her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Should we be able to find it in the first place, we should find it intact and protected from the harsh weather of Tatooine's deserts. The problem is, where? Caves such as the one we saw aren't exactly a rarity on this planet."

"We need to fuel up and re-supply," Canderous commented, folding his arms across his chest. "And I don't think any of us are quite prepared to go out into the wilderness of Tatooine's deserts without stocking up on things such as weather-resistant clothing or extra canteens for water. Our best bet is to find a settlement. A big one that ideally would have a map or two of the surrounding desert for a few klicks."

"That's… not a bad idea, actually, Canderous," Bastila said, drawing closer to the hologram of Tatooine curiously.

"Don't act so surprised, princess," the Mandalorian scoffed, but Bastila paid him no mind, already adjusting the holotable's display to filter through the planet's largest settlements.

She and Seth both pointed at the same time, their question of "what about this one?" slipping out at nearly the exact same moment. Seth couldn't help but smirk at the way Bastila's finger pointed at the same settlement he'd been prompted by the Force to select.

"Anchorhead," Canderous muttered under his breath. "The whole city's run by Czerka, if you lot hadn't gotten enough of those fools when we were on Kashyyyk."

"Anchorhead's our best bet at finding the Star Map," Seth insisted. "If anything, Czerka's ability to meddle in just about anything and everything will probably do us some good use. Odds are they've got operations mapping out and mining the desert for at least a couple hundred kilometers in every direction. If they found a Star Map, they wouldn't be able to shut up about it."

Canderous shrugged. "I won't argue with you on that one."

"It's settled then," Bastila said, pushing away from the holotable and clapping her hands together decidedly. "Seth, why don't you go on and relay our destination to Carth?"

"Will do," the younger Jedi replied, thinking briefly for a moment as he headed up the corridor towards the cockpit about the informality that had slipped into his relationship with Bastila over the past few months. It hadn't been too long ago that he'd have responded to that very request with a "Yes ma'am" and a crisp salute. But as his relationship with Bastila had shifted from commanding officer, to peer, and now even what he'd consider a steadily blossoming friendship, his level of comfort in just being himself around her had grown. There was a peace he found in their Force-bond, of being known so well, inside and out, without really having to say much of anything. Sure, there were things about himself that he'd rather Bastila not know. But the level of challenge she consistently presented him with, with a desire to see him grow and change for the better, was something that the bond presented that otherwise wouldn't be readily available to him on a daily basis.

When Seth crossed the threshold of the door to the cockpit, he was surprised to see Jolee Bindo sitting in the copilot's seat, chatting with Carth. The old man paused mid-story to acknowledge his younger companion, waving him forward. "You're just in time," he said eagerly. "I was just getting to the good part."

"Oh?" Carth said with a strained voice. "We haven't gotten to the good part yet?" Seth could tell by the way the pilot's jaw was tensely set that he'd been listening to Jolee's ramblings far longer than he'd wanted.

"Don't patronize me, young man," Jolee said irritably. "There's a lesson in here, if you'd listen for it. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Hortath got so offended, that he–"

"I'm sorry to cut you off," Seth said, and he winced at the glare Jolee fixed him with before noticing Carth's visible sigh of relief. "Bastila wanted me to ensure you knew we plan to dock in Anchorhead."

"Thanks, Seth," the pilot replied, and the younger man knew that the comment extended far beyond simple landing instructions. "Perfect timing, too, because we're about to drop out of hyperspace, and I could use a co-pilot. That is, unless Jolee, you're willing to fill the role."

"I think I'll leave the flying to you kids," Jolee said with a harrumph, "and take my stories to where they'll be appreciated."

"I can't imagine who you're gonna find aboard this ship to appreciate all that rambling," Carth muttered under his breath after Jolee was out of earshot, and Seth couldn't help but chuckle as he settled into the co-pilot's seat.

"How long was he at it before I dropped in?"

"Long enough," Carth said with a groan as he pulled back on a lever, and the Ebon Hawk dropped out of hyperspace with a jolt. The sandy planet of Tatooine stretched out before them, and the trusty freighter began its descent toward the planet's surface. "Why Anchorhead? Can't imagine it's because you're excited to touch down in Czerka territory again."

"Not exactly," Seth confirmed. "I can't really explain why, other than the fact that the Force led Bastila and I to select it."

"If you'd told me months ago that I'd be relying on premonitions by some unseen energy field to determine my assignments, I would've said you were crazy," Carth murmured. "Not that I don't believe in it. I do. Seeing the things you and Bastila can do, even Jolee and Juhani… There's no way I can't believe in it. But I'd be lying if I said I understood it."

"I don't really even understand it most of the time," Seth admitted. "But part of what makes it work is that I don't really need to understand how it works. I just need to understand that it works."

"Kinda like love, huh?" Carth said, flashing Seth a knowing smile as the younger man flushed several shades of pink.

"How do you know about that?" he asked quietly.

"Because it's in your eyes every time you look at her," the pilot said simply. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Reminder that I've experienced exactly what you're feeling, and can probably identify it much better than Mission or any of our Jedi companions who've likely never seen it before."

"Actually, Bastila knows," Seth said with a shrug. "So no need to keep that secret from her. Maybe… maybe just from Mission. At least for now."

"I'd never tell Mission something that's not mine to tell, you can trust me on that," Carth agreed. "But… why hide it from her?"

"I dunno." Seth allowed his voice to get quiet as he chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. "We just settled into a routine of being just friends, and I don't wanna mess that up. And besides… how do you even drop a bomb like that? I don't want to put any pressure on her to feel the same way, and I also definitely don't want to know if she doesn't feel the same way. The timing just seems all off."

"I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that love isn't a risky thing to get involved in," Carth told him solemnly. "That's probably one of the reasons your Order is so adamant that Jedi stay as far away from it as possible. I'm also not gonna tell you which risks you should or should not take. But what I can tell you, is that my life with Morgana, however short it was, was beyond worth taking that risk."

"I'll think about it," Seth said with a resolute nod. "It's honestly just a lot for me to process myself, you know?"

"Of course," Carth said. "For now, just enjoy being in love, Seth. It's not a feeling that you come by easily."

"According to Bastila, it's not a feeling I should come by at all."

"But you've come by it nonetheless." Carth fixed him with a pointed look. "Might as well experience it, because you're not gonna be able to shut it off." He gestured at the variety of controls in front of him to illustrate a point. "Emotions are a lot like the indicator lights here in the cockpit. They allow me to see how each individual part of the ship is doing, and keep me aware of how the ship is doing as a whole, but I'm still the pilot of the Ebon Hawk. These lights don't control the ship, I do. Your thoughts and emotions can indicate how you are doing, but you decide whether or not you're gonna let them control you."

Seth sat quietly for a moment, mulling the analogy over in his head. "Thanks Carth," he said with a quiet smile. "That honestly is the most helpful thing I've heard on the subject in a while."

"Glad to be of service," Carth said with a grin. "After all, I never really got to have these types of conversations with Dustil, so I gotta spout all my fatherly advice somewhere."

Something about that comment reached all the way down to the depths of Seth's soul, fulfilling a deep desire he'd never even known he'd had. Even as warmth gripped his heart, he had to forcibly think to stop the tears that threatened to prick at his eyes, and he swallowed hard.

"What, um…" he coughed to clear his throat. "What do you say we get this ship ashore, sir?"

"Sounds like a plan," Carth confirmed. He opened the shipwide intercom to blast a message to the entire crew of the Ebon Hawk. "Everybody strap in, it's about to get real hot on the ground."

Anyone that had ever told him not to complain about Tatooine's weather because it was a "dry heat" was full of bantha poodoo, Seth decided. It had only been a few minutes since he and the others had stepped foot off the loading ramp before they were peeling off layers of clothing, desperate to allow their skin to get some manner of breathability. Not that it really mattered; what little breeze touched the Tatooine air was hot and dry, like standing in front of an open oven.

Although he had found some small reprieve from the discomfort the heat had brought on, Seth couldn't help but feel exposed standing in just a thin tank top and cargo pants. He also couldn't help but let his gaze linger on Mission's exposed arms as she stripped down to pretty much the same outfit, the muscles between her shoulder blades flexing around the racerback cut of her shirt. Suddenly Seth wasn't sure which parts of the sweltering heat he was feeling could actually be attributed to Tatooine's climate.

"Welcome to Anchorhead," an approaching Czerka representative called out to them.

"Aaaand here comes the cash grab, right on schedule," Jolee muttered under his breath next to Seth.

Seth could tell the dock worker was trying to figure out who the leader of the ragtag bunch was, his eyes flicking between Canderous and Carth and paying little to no mind to the teenager standing behind them both. "It's not hard to tell that you're all new here," the Czerka rep said, settling on Carth as the target of his conversation. "Don't you worry, Czerka offers clothing that will protect you from Tatooine's harsh environment for an affordable price. All we have to do is settle the matter of your docking fee and you'll be free to explore our settlement as you wish."

Carth began to rifle through his pockets with a roll of his eyes, searching for his wallet, when Jolee stepped forward. "We don't need to pay a docking fee."

Seth noticed the way the worker's eyes glazed over, and felt the way Jolee was nudging at the man's mind through the Force. "You don't need to pay a docking fee," the worker repeated.

"And you want to clothe my companions and I out of the kindness of your heart," the old man pressed.

"And I want to – " the worker cut himself off, his focus snapping back to attention. "Well, hm, I wish I could simply clothe you and your companions out of the kindness of my heart, but we're strapped for profit out here. Best of luck to you, however, and enjoy your stay in Anchorhead!"

"Worth a shot," Jolee said with a shrug as the Czerka worker walked away.

"So, what now?" Juhani asked. "On the one hand, we know the Star Map lies outside of the walls of this city. On the other hand, there may be people within the walls of this city that could help us narrow down where to begin our search.

"Not to mention, we'll want to re-stock and re-fuel while we're here," Canderous reminded them. "Especially if we're going to be headed to Korriban after this. It might be our last opportunity for a while to load up on medpacs, ammunition, rations, you name it."

"Canderous is right," Bastila agreed. "We're going to want to find a way to earn some credits while we're here, as well, because I doubt anything in a Czerka-controlled port is going to be cheap. And I believe the best way to accomplish all we need to accomplish would be to spread ourselves throughout Anchorhead, at least for the time being."

"Mission, Big Z and I could scope out the local cantina," Seth offered. "It'd be a good place to get the lay of the land from the locals, and Mission could probably earn us some quick credits through a few good rounds of Pazaak."

While Bastila seemed hesitant to send the two teens out together after what she and Seth had discussed on Kashyyyk, she sighed in acquiescence. "That's not a bad idea, Seth. Keep all of us updated on what you discover. You may hear of a lead that the rest of us won't. Juhani and Carth, take T3-M4 with you to look for whatever we need to keep the Ebon Hawk up and running for the remainder of our journey. That includes any spare parts as well as the supplies Canderous mentioned earlier."

"You got it," Carth said with a nod, and T3 rolled up beside the Republic pilot with a cheerful beep.

"Meanwhile, Jolee, Canderous and I will pay a visit to the local Czerka Corp administrations office and see if we can't get our hands on some of the information they've got about the surrounding area from their mining efforts."

"Can't imagine mining here is providing them much profit, anyways," Jolee mused. "Unless they're digging around in the hopes of finding more dust and sand beneath all the dust and sand."

"Which is why I'm bringing you," Bastila replied. "If Czerka's strapped for cash, they'll likely try to turn any and every topic of conversation into a negotiation. I'm hoping that between your affinity for the Jedi mind trick and Canderous' intimidating nature as a Mandalorian, we can keep things cost-effective."

"Careful, princess," Canderous said with a smirk. "If you give me free rein with my… negotiation tactics, you might not like what you see."

Bastila gave him a tight smile before turning to Seth and Mission, a look of desperation in her eyes. "That being said, please do your best to earn us a few credits in the Pazaak den, Mission."

"Never thought I'd be the one to say this, Bastila," the Twi'lek said with a smile, "but it'd be my honor to do that for you."

Anchorhead's cantina was its own particular brand of seedy. While the establishment provided a cool shelter from the sweltering heat, Seth couldn't help but note that he felt uncomfortable in an entirely different way. Half-naked Twi'lek women stood atop the bar, dancing seductively to a thrumming bass beat as degenerate men of various species drunkenly cheered on the debauchery. He noticed a few eyes slide from the dancers to Mission's lithe form weaving in-between patrons as they made their way further inside, and with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, moved to place his body as best he could in the line of sight to protect her from roving eyes. A soft warning growl from Zalbaar quickly put a majority of the men in their place, and Seth pulled his spacer's jacket from his backpack and offered it to his companion. Mission, astutely aware of the eyes on her and quite uncomfortable with it, gratefully accepted the jacket and pulled it around her bare shoulders.

They found a table in a back corner, where Seth and Zalbaar could keep an eye on the entire establishment as Mission got to work shuffling her Pazaak deck. She smiled up at Seth. "I know you're really uncomfortable right now, but it's honestly really reassuring that you're not one of those teenage guys drooling over the dancers."

He just shrugged modestly. "They're not you."

Mission dropped her head, pretending to focus on the cards in front of her to hide her blush and her smile.

When a stranger approached the table, she glanced up, expecting it to be a challenger. She was a bit surprised to see it was one of the off-duty dancers sidling up to their table, and even more surprised to see that the Twi'lek's focus was not on the young man trying his best to avert his eyes, but squarely on Mission. Squinting in the dim light of the cantina, she couldn't help but wonder why this dancer looked so familiar.

It was only when she registered the shock in the dancer's voice as she surprisedly asked, "Mission? What are you doing here?" that recognition hit her like a ton of bricks, and the deck of cards dropped from her hands to scatter across the table.

"Lena?" Mission's voice hiked up an octave in a mixture of surprise and disgust. "What are you… where's Griff?"

"Probably out in the mines somewhere," Lena said dismissively. "We broke up shortly after he got us stuck on this rock and lost all our credits. I've been pulling as many shifts in this dive bar as I can to try and scrape together enough credits to get off this rock. Your brother can be charming, Mission, but he's bad news."

Mission's fingers curled into a fist, and she stood up, leaning over the table menacingly. "Don't you dare start trashing my brother, you cantina rat!"

Lena took a step back, a look of genuine surprise and concern crossing her features. "Wha-? I… Mission, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?"

Seth leaned in, attempting to diffuse the situation by allowing Mission some time to cool down. "You ran off with her brother when she was just a kid, and forced him to leave her behind. That doesn't really give her much of an option to harbor good feelings toward you."

Lena's eyes flicked from Mission, to Seth, and then back again, first angrily, and then hurt. "Is… Is that what he told you, Mission? Force, no wonder you couldn't look me in the eye as we were leaving."

"You can't go acting all sad about it now, Lena!" Mission spat. "You wrecked my life."

"You really think I'd let him leave a little girl behind in the Lower City? I wanted you to come with us, Mission! I even offered to pay for your ticket."

"You… you liar!" the younger Twi'lek shouted, though Seth could tell by the shake in her voice that Mission was beginning to doubt her brother's story from all those years ago. "Griff told me you didn't want his little sister tagging along – that's why you had to leave me behind!"

"That self-centered son of a…" Lena trailed off and grit her teeth. "He told me you didn't want to leave Taris. I told him we shouldn't even go, then, but he promised we'd come back for you as soon as we struck it rich. And I followed him across the galaxy, running away from the repercussions of one scam after another, until we got stuck here and I finally had enough."

"He's probably better off without you, too, you table-dancing, brother-stealing, home-wrecker!" Mission shouldered past her, storming out of the cantina, and Zalbaar hurried after her. Seth glanced down at the Pazaak cards scattered across the table, then back up at Lena, who was still rooted to the spot, a hurt expression across her otherwise beautiful features.

"Hey," he said gently. "I'm sorry about that, and I'm sure that once Mission gets some time to cool down, she'll feel pretty sorry, too. Griff is just… kinda a sore subject for her."

"No, I understand," Lena said quietly. "Growing up, she really had no choice but to see Griff as her hero. When we started dating back on Taris, I wanted so badly to try and be some sort of good influence on her, but he never let me see her. Now I wonder what sort of lies he was feeding her about me to prevent me from establishing any sort of relationship with her." She was quiet for a little while, then glanced up. "You her boyfriend?"

Seth's cheeks flushed pink, and he shook his head. "Nah, not really."

A small smile crossed Lena's lips, and she laughed. "Well, that's your jacket she's wearing, right? That's a galaxy-wide universal boyfriend move."

"We're close," he said, dodging the subject, though he couldn't help but grin at Lena's implication.

"Then… could you tell me what she's like? Who she grew up to be? The little girl I knew on Taris was so full of life, had so much potential… I just want to know she didn't end up like her brother."

He shook his head. "Not at all. Mission's hard-working, she's encouraging, she's outspoken…" he allowed himself to laugh a bit. "Really outspoken," he emphasized. "Super stubborn, incredibly caring, talented in so many ways it's hard to keep track." He glanced back up at Lena with a smile. "Everything you saw in her as a kid? She turned out even greater than I think you could've imagined."

The older Twi'lek smiled gratefully. "Thank you. And I'm glad she found someone who treats her a lot better than her brother treated me. If you'd asked Griff to describe me, I'm sure he'd have only named the size of certain attributes of mine, and nothing else." She paused for a moment, no doubt shaking away any memories of the older Vao sibling with disgust, before turning back to Seth. "Could you let her know I didn't mean to upset her? I can't imagine how hard that news must have been to hear, especially today."

He frowned. "Why today, in particular?"

Lena checked her chrono, then looked back up at him. "Unless my memory fails me, or I have the star-date wrong… today is Mission's birthday."

Seth's eyes went wide. "Her birthday?"

She chuckled. "So maybe you aren't her boyfriend. But I have no doubt, she needs you right now."

He nodded, sweeping the Pazaak cards up from the table and shoving them haphazardly into his pocket. "Hey Lena?"

"Hmm?" she hummed, preparing to leave for her shift at the bar.

"Thanks," he said genuinely, smiling at her before ducking out of the bar and into the sunny Tatooine streets. If today was Mission's birthday, then he was going to do everything in his power to ensure her sixteenth was a sweet one.

And he already had an idea of how he was going to do so.