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Disclaimer: Some dialog contained within this chapter belongs to BioWare. The characters and the GFFA belong to Lucas Arts, BioWare, and/or Obsidian.
A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful betas, Lossefalme and Alexandra3. This story wouldn't be what it is without them.
Shortly after the Jedi granted the Mandalorian and Wookiee permission to investigate the various reports of raiders throughout the countryside, the two met Jon, a widowed farmer who had just recently lost his young daughter when raiders attacked their farm and killed her. Jon had come to the Jedi to seek assistance, but was not happy with the lackluster response. The bereaved farmer reluctantly agreed to act as a guide for the two off-worlders if they would help him search out the Mandalorians responsible.
The first week had turned up little. Jon’s fear of his two companions hindered their progress. But although he didn’t understand the Wookiee, he grew to trust that he was safe in Zaalbar’s company. Jon had as little interaction with Canderous as possible, however. And that was just fine with the soldier. All that mattered to the Mandalorian was that Jon knew where he was going.
It took a week into their search before Canderous was finally able to accept the company of what he considered a coward of a man. Jon had neither fought back nor defended himself or his child when the raiders had invaded his home. Canderous found such a lack of action shameful. It was actually through the words of an old Jedi by the name of Nemo that the soldier came to understand not all people are able to defend what is theirs. Of course it was Zaalbar’s howling that finally made the Mandalorian agree to not verbally accost the man for his cowardice, but instead resort to simply not speaking to the farmer.
Standing outside the Jedi enclave, Canderous snarled, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have fought back.” What kind of man wouldn’t have fought back?
Although the Mandalorian didn’t understand everything the Wookiee said, he at least caught what he accepted as the important points. So when Zaalbar growled his response, Canderous said, “Of course he would have, but it would have been an honorable death. Not this…,” he trailed off as he looked in Jon’s direction in distaste.
Zaalbar responded with a mournful groan.
“Revenge? Hmph. Never had much use for it,” Canderous huffed. Revenge was for those who could not accept their fates. Jon obviously knows he’s at fault and is now trying to compensate by getting back at those that wronged him. But he didn’t want to do it himself. What good was he?
The Wookiee roared his response.
Canderous snapped back, “I’m not defending them, and I’m not defending him either. I don’t care about him. Once he gets us to where we need to be, we’re through with him.”
The soldier ignored the triumphant grunt from the Wookiee. This wasn’t anything different. All he’d agreed to was to quit talking to the farmer.
Since then, Canderous had to admit Jon had proven to be of some use. Though most inhabitants of the various dwellings they came upon hid from them when they came near, Jon had been able to speak to a few, and that had led them to their first encounter.
As they set off across the northern plain, their intention was to head further south towards an estate with vast grounds. They passed a few homes along the way, and as with the others, all remained unusually vacant; although, Canderous could still smell the aroma of morning breakfast. He scoffed at their attempts to hide. Pathetic.
As they approached the next farm, Canderous noticed Jon’s attention wander towards the home. They had already seen the remains of Jon’s house and it wasn’t far from where they were. Out of the corner of his eye, Canderous detected movement. He whirled around with his blaster at the ready, repeating carbine spinning. He heard a small cry, a woman’s cry come from the right corner of the house.
Jon held his hands up and yelled, “Wait!”
Canderous kept his gaze at his potential target, but nodded for Jon to proceed.
Jon kept his hands raised and walked slowly towards the source of the movement. He called out in a rather delicate voice, “Celia?” There was silence. He tried again. “Celia, it’s me… Jon. It’s okay, nobody here will hurt you.”
Jon motioned without looking at Canderous to lower his weapon. Another display of his ineptitude in battle; Canderous raised a brow in amusement and kept his blaster steady.
When Jon was close enough to the building and stood within the Mandalorian’s sights, the supposed Celia emerged from her hiding place and stood where she could see all three of the men near her home.
With a trembling voice, she asked, “Is it true, Jon? Is this Mandalorian here to help us?” Without receiving a response, she looked down in shame and stated, “The others, they think you’ve gone mad.” What was that supposed to mean?
Jon replied softly, “I didn’t believe it either until I witnessed it myself.” He moved closer to the woman. “Celia, is everything all right? You’re shaking.” She was indeed shaking. But it wasn’t an uncommon sight to be seen through the scope of Canderous’ blaster.
The woman finally looked at Jon full on and pleaded, “Please, Jon, I know you don’t care for Alan much, but I think he’s in trouble. He left only twenty minutes ago saying he was going to the market. I… I watched him go. He went east instead.” She reached out and grabbed Jon’s wrist. “Oh Jon, please, can they help us?” she added, indicating Canderous and Zaalbar.
Helping her wasn’t exactly what Canderous had in mind. They had other things to do besides chasing around the countryside for this woman’s wayward husband. So the man went east, he shouldn’t have to explain himself.
Jon stared down at the hand on his wrist, frozen in thought. He placed his other hand upon hers in what Canderous thought was a rather affectionate manner. Without letting go of her, he turned slightly and looked at the soldier in silent question. Canderous was just about to object when Zaalbar growled low behind him to the right. For the honor of Mandalore, why did that woman insist on the Wookiee coming along? Against his better judgment, Canderous lowered his weapon and nodded in agreement.
The woman was visibly relieved, and spoke a few quieter words to Jon before the original party set off to the east.
The three quickened their pace in the direction the woman’s husband had gone. It wasn’t long before they came to a clearing and spotted a group of people. Canderous shooed his party behind a large boulder from one of the surrounding cliffs to better assess the situation. There appeared to be one Mandalorian with three Rodians surrounding an unarmed farmer – likely the husband in question. They were just close enough to hear what was being said.
The Mandalorian said, “You’ve been holding out on us again. Since you haven’t given us enough money, I guess we’re going to have to take it out of you piece by piece!”
Money? They were doing this for credits? Canderous rose to attack until the farmer’s words stopped him in his tracks. “No! Please! Take my wife and children instead! Anything!”
A sharp gasp was heard to Canderous’ right and he glanced over to see the look of horror on Jon’s face. A shot fired and Jon didn’t flinch as the other farmer fell dead to the ground.
While the Mandalorian laughed in the distance and proclaimed his intentions of finding said wife and children, Zaalbar reached into his bandoleer and pulled out three grenades, then handed them to Jon. Hopefully Jon was better at throwing than he was with a blaster. He’d already proven his lack of skill against another group three days before. Canderous nodded to Jon to toss the first adhesive grenade. As the grenade detonated to ensnare the Mandalorian and two of his men, Canderous and Zaalbar opened fire.
Canderous laid waste to the approaching Rodian while Zaalbar concentrated his shots on the Mandalorian. The adhesive gave way and Canderous called out for Jon to fire another. However, with their targets fast approaching, Jon’s aim was way off - an amateur’s mistake. Admitting defeat, the farmer cowered behind their refuge to wait it out.
Zaalbar remained vigilant and aimed perfect laser shots to the shoulder and knee of the heavily armored Mandalorian. Canderous took down the remaining Rodians with practiced ease before concentrating his efforts on his traitorous brethren, taking him down by repeated shots to the known weaknesses in the armor.
As the sound of blaster fire ended and the whine of Canderous’ carbine came to a halt, Jon looked up in question to make sure all was well. The soldier scoffed at the helpless look and surveyed the scene.
The farmer slowly rose to peer out above the boulder and take in the carnage before him. Canderous had to give him credit: he didn’t blanch quite as bad as he had three days ago after a similar battle. Of course, three days ago, Jon hadn’t displayed the blind fury that was slowly building as he approached the fallen settler.
Jon seethed, “Wife and children?! Wife and children?” With those words, Jon kicked the already dead man in the ribs, yelling, “You no good son of a schutta! I knew you never deserved her!”
Obviously there was much more to the situation than Canderous cared to know. He left the man to his tirade, while Zaalbar pulled Jon away from his assault on the deceased. Canderous couldn’t be sure, but he guessed they had found Alan.
The soldier and Zaalbar searched the raiders for any clues to whom they answered to. Canderous knew this one couldn’t be the leader. He’d gone down too easy. The man’s armor was left over from earlier in the war. There were few markings on it to prove his prior battles. He no doubt had fled before Malachor V. Canderous spit on the ground next to the man in disgust.
Jon still stood by the fallen farmer. He said in an even tone, “We can’t leave him here.”
Canderous looked up in question. The man was just beating a corpse and now he wanted to show proper respect?
Jon continued, “She’ll need to mourn him properly.”
Without question, Canderous and Zaalbar collected spare supplies and loaded the farmer’s corpse into the back of the landspeeder left by the defeated raiders. Zaalbar took Jon in the speeder while Canderous followed on Alan’s speeder bike.
When they approached the farm, Celia’s face crumpled as she saw Zaalbar pull her dead husband from the speeder. Jon was immediately by her side to comfort her. She buried her face in Jon’s chest and the two led Zaalbar inside the home.
Canderous’ work was done, so he waited outside until Zaalbar and Jon emerged. Jon said, “I will stay with her. She… the children…” Unable to keep his voice even, he said no more – yet another display of weakness. Would this man ever get it together?
Zaalbar handed Jon a satchel found laying amongst the bodies, as well as a few possessions found on the leader that were presumably payment from Alan. Jon accepted the items, but froze when he spotted a locket. His hand trembled as he reached for it and he shook his head in disbelief. He nodded to them both, and returned inside the house.
Jon had mentioned to Zaalbar that he should take the landspeeder to help avoid suspicion from other potential raiders. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have. As Canderous and Zaalbar loaded into the vehicle, the soldier said, “Well big guy, looks like we’re done for the day.”
Zaalbar remained silent during their trip back to the enclave. The Wookiee could be solemn if he wanted. Canderous himself was pleased with the day’s success.
When they entered the training room, it was not completely empty as they’d anticipated. There was one lone occupant who appeared to be finishing up his meditation. He looked to be around the same age as Sage, and was tall with short brown hair. He wore blue robes, which told Sage he was not a Padawan. When he turned to see who had entered, she was struck by his handsome features and stunning blue eyes.
As soon as the man spotted them, he seemed to rush to grab his things. He quickly brushed past them muttering something unintelligible.
Sage watched his retreat while Bastila entered the room to make herself comfortable on the floor. When Sage finally joined her, she asked, “Who was that?”
“Hmm?” Bastila asked distractedly. “Oh, I’m not sure. I’ve not met him.”
Sage looked back towards the door and said, “I might have to make a point of it.”
Bastila huffed, “I do not see the point, really.”
Sage smirked. “You wouldn’t.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Bastila asked, affronted.
Sage rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bastila. That man was gorgeous and you didn’t even notice.”
The younger woman lifted her chin. “Jedi do not concern themselves with such matters.”
Sage guffawed, “You can’t be serious?”
Bastila raised a delicate brow. “I assure you I am. Need I remind you Jedi do not involve themselves in emotional attachments?”
Sage cocked a crooked smile. “Who said anything about emotions?”
Bastila sighed. “Jedi also learn to put aside their more… base instincts.”
Sage looked at her skeptically. “Are you telling me Jedi don’t have sex?”
The young Jedi shifted her weight. “It is in one’s best interests to not divulge in sexual relations to better avoid the potential for attachments.”
Sage shook her head. “Maybe you think it’s in your best interests, but I know it’s not in mine.”
“I expected as much.”
The two were quiet a few more moments before Sage asked, “You mean to tell me that you don’t even notice an attractive man?”
“I do not deny the man was attractive. However, it is not something I feel a need to concern myself with,” Bastila explained. “You, on the other hand, appear to dwell on such matters to the point of distraction. It is exactly the reason Jedi avoid those particular situations.”
Sage scoffed, “I don’t dwell.”
Now it was Bastila’s turn to look skeptical. “And you didn’t find yourself the least bit preoccupied with a certain soldier not too long ago.”
Sage frowned. “I still got done what needed to be done. Isn’t that the point?”
“Certainly you must agree that your… indiscretions impeded your efficiency in completing your tasks.”
“Indiscretions?” Sage barked out in laughter. “Are you serious? The most I got out of him was a ‘Be careful’,” she scoffed, “Talk about safe sex.”
Bastila laughed out loud. Sage feigned shock and said, “Wow, so you do laugh.”
Bastila waved a hand dismissively. “Well of course I laugh.”
Sage shrugged. “First time I’ve seen it.”
Bastila straightened herself and pronounced, “Given the situation in the galaxy, one finds few things to laugh about.”
Sage rolled her eyes. “Force, Bastila, you need to get laid more than I do.”
Bastila said nothing in response as others began to filter into the training room, but Sage did notice a quirk at the corner of her lips. She had to admit, it was the first real conversation she and Bastila had had since they’d met.
Today, however, she seemed a bit off. A few times she missed her mark and had to compensate by grasping a lower hold as she jumped between bars and ledges. Under normal circumstances, she would have tried it several times until she perfected the movement. But today she’d just continued on with little concern.
After watching a Force-propelled jump that sent her five meters further than she intended, Zhar got her attention and called her down. He had a suspicion as to what was bothering her. He feared the decision on what path to take as a Jedi weighed on her more than it should. As Revan, she had chosen the path of Consular and had proven a master at it in her own rite. She had the skills, and sometimes the temperament, for a Guardian, but her full potential could only be realized with the cultivation of her extraordinary strength in the Force. On the other hand, maybe they’d all be better off if she chose a different path this time. Whatever the case, the decision was hers and nobody had the right to steer her one way or the other.
Once she refreshed herself with some water and a cleansing with the Force, she settled herself in the middle of a mat on the floor. Zhar joined her and sat facing her. He started, “You’re distracted.”
“Give me some real stuff to climb on and see how much I perk up,” she retorted.
Zhar chuckled. She never gave up on trying to persuade him to let her out of the enclave. “I’ve told you before; there are dangers out there that would require you to fight. I fear that in the time we’re given for you to learn your lightsaber techniques, breaking away to use a common sword would only hinder your progress.”
She rolled her eyes, unconvinced.
He continued, “It’s not only your performance today. Have you meditated?”
Sage sighed deeply. “Fine. Here’s the problem. I’ve been looking over the different options for what path I’m going to take. But I have some questions.”
These questions were normally deferred to Dorak, but Zhar didn’t seem to think Sage would be open to that. Instead, he spread his hands out in invitation, “Go on.”
“Now, once I choose a path, my studies will shift to accommodate it, right?”
Master Zhar nodded his head and said, “That is correct.”
“So if I choose the Consular, does that mean I’ll have to study some with Master Vrook?” she asked.
With a bit of unease, Zhar thought multiple Masters may have been Revan’s problem to begin with. But with the little amount of time they had to train her, a repeat of old mistakes was necessary. In a cautious tone, Zhar answered, “Master Vrook would set the course of your curriculum, yes.”
Sage’s expression was one of mild distaste as she contemplated this. “But will I have to actually have sessions with him?”
He explained, “Your case, as you know, is different than what is traditional within the Order. Ideally, you would be assigned one Master. But in the short time you and I have worked together, I find your progress to be quite demanding. Therefore, I will be relying on the other Jedi here at the academy to assist me. If you choose the path of Consular, that will require you to learn from both Masters Vrook and Dorak.”
Sage sputtered, “Dorak?”
“Master Dorak, yes.” Zhar had heard Dorak’s account of his latest encounter with Sage. She had been most forthcoming with her disagreement on his views of history. Oddly enough, her viewpoints seemed to have matured in the five or so years since he’d last been victim to her tirades. She had been defensive of the way he’d portrayed Revan and Malak; citing how future Jedi would be sadly misinformed if all they had to rely on for knowledge was his opinion. In the many years of being on Dantooine, Zhar found that not much could affect Dorak in a negative manner. But Revan had always been the exception.
Sage sighed resignedly, “I don’t see how that’s going to work.”
Zhar detected the disappointment in her words. And in the two days she’d had to consider her options, her training results had been more erratic. There was discord between her and the other Masters. He couldn’t fault Sage completely. After all, she had no memory of prior confrontations with the two men. For her, it was merely a faction of her personality. For Vrook and Dorak, it was justified contempt. Still, he couldn’t necessarily deny her chosen path because of conflict with those who should be above past grievances.
“Allow me some time to meditate on this further. I suggest for you to do the same.”
Sage gave him a skeptical look, but conceded nonetheless, “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She stood and gave a quick bow before turning to leave. Before she reached the door, Zhar called out to her, “Sage, have you considered the path of Sentinel?”
She turned to look at him with a pinched expression. “You mean like Bastila?”
Zhar nodded.
Sage paused a moment in thought and then, seeming to agree with what she already knew, she said definitively, “No.”
Some days, the area around the ship was rather quiet. Today was one of those days. In fact, the only other one around seemed to be Canderous, who was working on one of the landing struts that had taken a small amount of damage during their escape from Davik’s estate. He paid her little mind while he worked and it was just as well.
She liked to take advantage of the quiet to have time to herself… to contemplate and practice her new skills without the constant scrutiny she would otherwise receive within the academy. She collected a small amount of stones and found an alcove along the outer wall of the landing bay. She settled into it while she practiced various forms of object manipulation.
Not a day had gone by over the past few weeks that she hadn’t questioned her decision to stay with the Jedi. The past few months had been quite intense. Occasionally she thought of her life before the crash on Ylesia. All she had left of it were faint, unfamiliar images. What was more familiar were the feelings that came with them: pain, loss, heartache. It wasn’t until coming to Dantooine that she’d given herself time to think about them. The others had said her nights were filled with fits of anguish, although she remembered nothing of her dreams.
It all made her curious about what she’d left behind, but more in a detached sort of way. In fact, starting a new life instead of searching for the old seemed preferable. For now, she ignored the nagging feeling, tried not to focus on the most prominent memory of loss, tried to look past that part of her that knew something was missing… or perhaps someone.
Regardless, the best choice of action was to finish her Jedi training, and get off of Dantooine. Because it was certainly only the training that kept her there. She’d been learning new things every day and it was quite exhilarating. She’d even seen merit in the code they lived by. But the Jedi themselves, the individuals, left much to be desired. Bastila shied away from her. Master Zhar was tolerable. Master Vandar was nice, but rather inaccessible. Master Vrook watched her as if she would explode at any moment and was quite rude to her any chance he got. Master Dorak was… infuriating. His selective version of history was considerably lacking. And all of them only seemed to want to talk about one thing: the dangers of falling to the dark side. Learn from Revan, they said. However, nobody could really give a valid reason for her fall. She sought to learn too fast beyond what they felt she was ready for. Well what the hell are they doing now with me? Sage found herself thinking. The quick course to Jedi-dom. Not that she was complaining. As far as Sage was concerned, they couldn’t give it to her fast enough.
She often thought about trying new things and expanding upon the Jedi’s teachings. For instance, the stones in front of her were now spinning to make a circle in front of her. If she focused on one of those stones, could she make it into a projectile? She concentrated her efforts and selected one stone in the midst of the spinners. She wrapped the Force around it and sent it sailing. The stone shot to her right and hit the wall with a resounding clack.
She was pleased with the result, but wanted a little more control. She called the rock back into her collection. She selected another. This time focusing on the target of the tree she had fallen from a few weeks back. She sent the stone flying and it hit the tree with a thump.
She practiced a few more times with varying degrees of force and distance. After some time, she became bored of the little game and searched for a more amusing target. A slow, mischievous smile spread across her face as she spotted the prime target in the form of a backside currently facing her from the direction of the landing strut. Keeping her giddiness from anticipation in check, she once again focused on a rock amidst the foray in front of her and sent it darting toward the unsuspecting target. Smack!
Canderous let out a yell and retracted from the point of impact, causing him to shoot up and bang his head on the belly of the Hawk, which in turn caused another howl of pain. The spinning rocks dropped abruptly as Sage fell over in a fit of hysterical laughter.
The hulking Mandalorian slowly turned to face her, one hand rubbing his ass while the other soothed the spot where a knot would surely form on his head. Sage laughed even harder at his reddened face.
He growled, “What the hell did you do that for?”
Sage’s laughter calmed and she said matter-of-factly, “I just needed some fun.”
“Fun?” Canderous spat as if the word left an odd taste in his mouth.
Sage sighed, “Yeah, Ordo, fun. Most people indulge themselves. Unless, of course, you’re a crusty old grump.”
Canderous narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”
She shrugged. “Don’t you?”
He wiped his hands on a rag he pulled out of his belt and shook his head. “We’re taking a few days off. He’s mourning or something.”
Sage was skeptical. “Zaalbar?”
“No, Jon. It doesn’t matter. We’ll start again soon. We took down another group two days ago,” he said.
“That’s good. Still no sign of the leader?” Sage replied.
“He’s out there and we’ll find him. Will you be able to join in the battle?”
Sage huffed, “Who knows… these Jedi aren’t much on letting others in on their plans.”
“Too bad, we could use someone good with a sword.” Without another word, he turned back to his previous task.
Sage watched him for a moment with a slight frown. Nope, not much fun. What happened to the fun guy? Oh yeah, he left.
“You wanted to see me?” Jek-Tal said at the doorway.
Zhar turned to face the younger Jedi. “Yes, please, won’t you join me?”
The other man didn’t respond at first, but then quietly moved to settle into a seat next to the Twi’lek.
They were quiet a few moments longer while Zhar searched for a way to begin. “First of all, let me begin by saying the Council appreciates your efforts, not only in the past few weeks, but also the past two years. Anything you have done in the past has been voluntary on your part. Therefore, it is with great reluctance that we ask any more of you.
“However, circumstances as they are, I feel you may be of great value to this mission if you feel you are able.”
In an even tone, Jek-Tal asked, “What is it you are asking?”
“She would like to choose the path of Consular. However, in the short amount of time we have to train her, I alone would be unable to properly prepare her for that choice. She has had sessions with both Masters Dorak and Vrook.”
Jek-Tal chuckled, “I bet they enjoyed that.”
Zhar sighed. “They did not. And frankly, neither did she. My only hope is that there is something in her base personality that makes her clash with those two.”
Jek-Tal stiffened. He seemed to want to say something, but then thought better of it. Zhar could only guess, but now was not the time for a discussion on Sage’s mental state.
Zhar continued, “I’m afraid, Jek-Tal, that you may be the best qualified to assist me with her training.”
Jek-Tal looked at him sharply and said, “You can’t mean for me to teach her?”
Zhar nodded.
The younger Jedi stood abruptly and began to pace the room. “I haven’t even spoken to her. Barely looked at her.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a worried expression upon his face. He shook his head. “I… I’m not sure I’m ready for that. The thought of me teaching her…”
Zhar knew it wouldn’t be an easy decision for Jek-Tal. There was a great deal of history between him and Revan that Zhar himself wasn’t fully aware of. And there weren’t any guarantees Sage would respond any better to Jek-Tal than she had the other Masters on Dantooine. But the fact remained that including Jek-Tal in her training would be much simpler than bringing yet another Jedi into the fold of their plans. Not to mention Jek-Tal was more than qualified.
Zhar said, “Give it some thought. Meditate on it. Speak to her if you must. But I know you are a strong Jedi, Jek-Tal. You can do this.”
Jek-Tal remained lost in his thoughts as Master Zhar departed.
“Hey, Mission.”
Mission looked up and a huge smile spread across her face. “Sage! It’s so good to see you.”
Sage went over to the dispenser and helped herself to a cup of juice. “How’s it going down here?” she asked.
“Really great. I even got to cook tonight,” Mission exclaimed.
Sage lifted a brow and found a seat. “Really?”
Mission shrugged and looked a little sheepish. “Well… I just boiled noodles for the pashi.”
“That’s fantastic, Mission.”
“It wasn’t much.” The young girl seemed suddenly modest over her accomplishment.
Sage reassured her, “Sure it was. Have you ever done anything like this before?”
Mission’s eyes grew wider as she spoke. “No, I’ve never even really been in a kitchen before. Well, at least, not invited. But to actually learn how to use that stuff… it’s a lot of fun.”
Sage smiled softly. It was nice to see Mission enjoying herself. The girl grabbed her own juice and joined Sage at the table.
After taking a long sip, Mission said, “I did work some… for Gadon, you know. He did good by me. Nothing like Big Z or anything. But if we needed food or a quiet corner to crash in, he helped us out.”
Gadon Thek was the gang leader on Taris who had been the key to rescuing Bastila. “How did you meet Gadon?”
“Through my brother. Griff ran a few jobs for Gadon a couple of years back. It didn’t really pan out for either of them, so he moved on. But after Griff left, Gadon made sure nobody messed with me,” Mission explained.
Sage wondered how often Mission had been alone before Griff left.
“About Griff,” Mission said. “I’m sorry for the way I acted before. It’s just that when it comes to Lena I tend to get a little worked up.”
Sage took another sip of her juice and asked, “What did she do to you?”
Mission began to explain, “My brother and me had a good thing going. Sure, Griff had his run-ins with the law on Taris. But we got by okay. Until Lena came and ruined everything.
“She was a dancer at the cantina where my brother used to go to play Pazaak. Griff could be a real smooth talker, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were dating. But Lena was used to dating rich Tarisian nobles – guys with mountains of credits. Griff could never give her the kind of lifestyle she was used to, no matter how hard he worked.”
“Did Lena dump him?” Sage asked.
Mission showed slight confusion when she said, “I thought Lena would brush Griff off when she saw how poor he was, but for some reason she stuck around.” She shrugged as she added, “I guess she saw the potential for a big payday down the road.”
Sage didn’t think that seemed likely. “So what happened?”
“After they’d been together for a few months, Griff told me he was leaving Taris. He and Lena were going to try and make their fortune off-world.” Mission stared at her cup as her voice became a little more uneasy. “He promised as soon as he made enough credits he’d come back and get me and we’d all live like royalty. That was two years ago – I haven’t seen him since! I don’t even know where he went!” She rubbed at an invisible spot on the cup.
Sage hadn’t heard a good thing about Griff since she’d met Mission. “How is this Lena’s fault?”
Mission huffed, “Oh, I know what happened! As soon as she got him off Taris, Lena sunk her claws into Griff but good! She twisted him around her little finger and made him forget all about me!”
Sage searched for something to say to comfort the girl. “Mission, I’d think it would take a lot more than a girlfriend for your brother to forget you.”
Mission smiled, but otherwise didn’t seem to find any solace in Sage’s words. After a long silence, Mission said, “I know I’ll probably never see Griff again. But part of the reason I came with you was the hope that I could find out what happened to my brother.”
Sage thought for a moment. “We could see if either of us could get access to the holonet. Maybe we could find some record of where he is.”
Mission waved a hand to brush it off, “Oh no, don’t worry – I won’t let my search for Griff get in the way of what you’re doing.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mission. It couldn’t hurt to look.”
Sage got up to take her cup over to the cleaner. Mission followed.
“So how’s the training going?” the young girl asked.
How many times had Sage heard those words in the past few weeks? She smirked and said in a wry tone, “You sound like the Masters.”
Mission winced. “Sorry.”
Sage shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m just feeling a little cramped.”
Mission furrowed her brow. “Why won’t they let you out of the enclave?
Sage shrugged. “I can only guess they don’t want me to lose my focus.”
Mission just grunted, and stared tiredly at nothing in particular.
Sage patted her on the shoulder and said, “You probably need to get some sleep.”
Mission’s eyes re-focused and she announced, “I do. Ghur’lamou said she’ll let me try cooking the gukked eggs in the morning.”
Sage nodded and smiled, careful not to commit to trying said eggs.
Taren Quinn… Jek had no doubt the information leaked to Trae Storm had come from Quinn. Jek didn’t believe the brothers to have that close of a relationship, but if Quinn needed information, using Trae would have been his best option. The most obvious question was how Quinn found out. Jek gathered that Quinn was more of a supporter of Revan than the Sith. Therefore, he felt he could trust the other man to keep the information as confidential as possible. His only hope was that Quinn’s source never fell into the hands of Malak.
Jek made his way over to a bench to enjoy the cool night air. He sat facing the freighter she had arrived in. She certainly had been on quite a journey. She never had liked Taris and the injustices it brought upon its people. He wondered how the planet’s destruction would have affected her if she still had her memories. For that matter, how did it affect her without them? He knew he shouldn’t care, but he had been subject to a show of humanity in her darkest time. He could only hope that the Jedi’s actions in the past year had not stripped her of what she had left.
As of yet, Jek still felt uncertain about Zhar’s request to assist in her training. His reluctance had little to do with the fact that they were once lovers, and more to do with their friendship. Wouldn’t it be betrayal to follow along with this grand plan? He knew Vrook was a strong opponent to training her. Therefore, Jek understood the barriers involved if Vrook should train her. Jek didn’t have a problem with her re-training, but his potential involvement in the overall duplicity felt deceitful to the woman he once loved.
The Jedi sensed movement from the top of the landing bay wall to the left of where the Ebon Hawk sat. With his hand on his lightsaber, he watched carefully as a dark figure descended from the wall and landed gracefully on the ground… where it immediately dropped to its backside with a curse. Stretching out with the Force, Jek recognized it as the woman of his prior thoughts. And she was not happy.
She remained on the ground and Jek could hear her mumbling something while she appeared to be studying her leg. She was hurt. Damn! He’d made every attempt to avoid her over the past few weeks, and now it seemed he had little choice but to see what was wrong.
Jek rose from his seat and cautiously set towards her. It only took a couple of steps before she became aware of his presence. From the faint perimeter lighting, he saw her still her movements. As he came closer, he noticed the torn threads of her pants. Even closer, he saw the glistening of wet blood on the lower part of her right leg. What had she gotten herself into? Where had she been? It was common knowledge she had been confined to the enclave. But it was also no surprise she’d found a way out.
He could sense her apprehension as he approached. She certainly was in an odd predicament – jumping from a wall into a secure facility that she was not permitted to leave in the first place. Although, breaking and entering was commonplace where Revan was concerned.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Would you believe me if I said ‘yes’?” she replied.
“Judging by the looks of that leg, no, I wouldn’t.”
She nodded in defeat.
“We need to get you to a Healer,” Jek said.
She hesitated, “Well, I, um… I’d rather not. I have provisions on this ship. I should be able to handle it.”
At closer look, he knew it would require more than a medpac to fix her up. He offered, “Let’s start by getting you to that bench over there. We’ll get a better idea of what we’re dealing with in the light.”
She stared at her leg. He imagined she really didn’t like that option either. But he wasn’t going to just leave her there, bleeding. “Can you walk on it?”
“I got this far,” she said flatly. Then with great effort, she attempted to push up off the ground, favoring her left leg. She flashed him a strained smile before attempting to take a step forward. A noise came from low in her throat that sounded like a groan – perhaps a hidden one.
Jek stepped forward and cautiously held his hand close to her elbow. He knew better than to touch Revan uninvited. Something about her demeanor told him that hadn’t changed. “May I help you?”
She wavered slightly as she considered the proffered arm. She nodded slightly and Jek took hold of her arm to help steady her.
He led her towards the bench he’d been sitting on, trying to keep the weight off her leg while also trying not to hold her too intimately. Once they were seated, he carefully guided her leg to rest on the bench for him to better examine it.
Jek narrowed his eyes as he looked at the torn flesh. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”
She hesitated and then let out an exasperated sigh. “Nobody told me there were crazed beasts with horns out there. This planet looked nearly uninhabited from space and now I know why.”
Jek furrowed his brow. “Do you mean a kath hound did this to you?”
She shrugged. “It was dark, but I’m fairly certain it was about waist high and had sharp teeth. I was walking along, minding my own business and it came out of nowhere. I pulled out my blade, but it got hold of my leg before I had a chance to kill it. I heard more coming, so I took off. Fortunately I wasn’t far from here.”
“That seems rather unusual for them to attack unprovoked,” Jek said as he tried to make sense of her damaged leg.
“I assure you, I didn’t provoke it,” she bit back.
Jek glanced up at her face. It was the first time he’d really looked at that face in over a year. She looked so much better without the veined pallor she’d hid under that hideous mask. She wore a defiant expression. “I think I can fix this, but we’ll need to get it cleaned up.”
She nodded towards the ship. “There’s a medbay on the Ebon Hawk.”
Well, that was convenient. He helped her stand. This time, she put her hand on his shoulder to help support her weight. She entered the security code and boarded the ship when the ramp lowered.
Jek had to admit it wasn’t a bad ship. She pointed in the direction of the medbay through a common room. Once inside, he helped her onto the bed and she told him where everything was. He found the necessary supplies and began to clean the wound. If his movements hurt her, she wasn’t letting on.
“So, exploring the Dantooine countryside at night?” he said lightly.
“Working on your report for the Masters?” she replied.
He smiled reassuringly. “I suppose this can stay between you and me.”
She eyed him doubtfully, but then shrugged. “I got bored.”
That wasn’t a surprise. Revan had never really liked Dantooine to begin with. For her to be stuck inside the enclave was nearly torture in itself. Jek knew well enough that thought had crossed Vrook’s mind when he’d made the decision to keep her isolated.
“And was there anything more interesting outside of these walls?” he asked.
She huffed, “Not really. I was able to find a cantina just north of here, but there were only three people in it – the bartender, and a man and a woman who were arguing the whole time. I told the bartender he at least needed to get holographic dancers, but he just looked at me like I was insane. It was fairly obvious I wasn’t from around here. The other man there offered to rent me a speeder. Seeing as I’m sure he wasn’t that woman’s husband, I didn’t really trust him. So I had two drinks and left.
“I guess the most interesting part of the evening would be when the four inch fangs stuck into my leg. It was at least the first time I got to use my blade in weeks.” She paused as Jek dried up the last of the kolto and began to use the Force to heal the rest.
“Maybe you should have rented that speeder after all,” Jek said.
With a wry smile, she said, “I wasn’t supposed to be out. What was I going to do with a speeder?”
He nodded. “Good point.” He concentrated his efforts on knitting the jagged edges of her skin back together. “I don’t think there will be a scar,” he said.
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first one if there was.”
Jek noticed she was right. She had another scar further up on the leg he was tending to and another one above her wrist. There were certainly a few more in places he couldn’t see. The Healers had attempted to heal the recent ones completely after her capture. But the impact from Malak’s attack had been too damaging.
As Jek finished up, she didn’t seem too impressed with his Jedi healing abilities. It was well-known throughout the Council that Bastila had not attempted healing while on Taris. Most people were usually intrigued with the process, but Revan just glanced at it like it was nothing new and said, “You’re pretty good at that.”
She gathered up her sword and asked, “Would you like a tour of the ship?”
Jek thought about the offer, but said, “Not tonight, thank you.”
She shrugged and climbed off the table, testing her balance as she settled her weight on the injured leg. Satisfied, she led Jek out of the medbay and off the ship.
When they reached the courtyard before descending into the academy, Jek noted, “You said you were bored.” She nodded shortly and he continued, “You don’t find your training interesting?”
She was quiet for a long moment as she contemplated her answer. She glanced at him a few times as if unsure of whether to indulge him. Finally, she said, “Maybe ‘bored’ wasn’t the right expression. I think ‘stifled’ is a bit more accurate.”
“At least you’re not stuck on a ship for the time being,” Jek offered.
“At least then I’d have the freedom to have my own opinions, not to mention the ability to share and discuss them.”
“You don’t feel you have that here?” Jek asked.
“I’d say, for the most part, things are fairly black and white here,” she said.
As she turned and left, Jek thought about her statement. Whatever approach was being used in her theoretical training, it was not working and probably never would. This was Revan. Did the Council honestly believe they’d be able to meld her completely into what they wanted? They should know better than that. But they didn’t… and he did. Did he really have a choice in the decision to help re-train her?