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Chapter Text

She didn't remember her life before . Retrograde Amnesia, the healers had told her after she awoke from a lengthy kolto dump, which was just a fancy word for "you may never remember your past, so make the best of it". They had proceeded to give her a clean bill of health and sent her on her merry way.

She still did not know if the paper-pusher who issued her identification papers had allowed themselves some sick joke or if they had actually found her name in some records, if nothing else, but, Ruvena Ordo, seriously? As if it was not hard enough to find employment without any sort of verified skills, but to add a Mandalorian clan name into the mix so soon after the war? The warm welcomes she received may have been able to freeze Mustafar.

Which had led her to a recruiting office, which led her, well, here . Ruvena had, very short into her basic training, been taken aside by one of the officers with questions of "why hadn't she told them" and fast-tracked into service, since she had some (try "a lot of") military training that she could not consciously remember. That, at least, explained many of the scars that covered her body, as well as the way she took to life shipside like a fish to water. Some days, she got the feeling that she knew the Endar Spire better than some veteran officers.

A fact that she intended to take full advantage of in the near future, as she ran through the ship after her previously unknown bunkmate Trask Ulgo, while the   Endar Spire shook from the impact of the Sith armada's turbolasers.

"Left!", she yelled, before he could take another turn that would lead them to the bridge. The long, non-officer, non-initiate way. He just looked at her while she overtook him and led him down the shortcut. They arrived at the bridge just as the last of the command crew began making way towards the escape pods. They were followed by a small squad of Sith troopers, and Ruvena was quick to give cover fire to the remaining officers. One after the other, they went down, dead. Her hands did not even shake a little. That must be some serious military experience buried in my brain, she thought unfazed.

The remainder of their escape went off unhindered and they were quickly ushered into the last remaining escape pods. "Hurry, I set the ship to self-destruct as soon as those pods are away. I just hope she takes a lot of Sith with her.", the Commander instructed as he programmed the pods' trajectory for the Tarisian Equatorial Spaceport. Ruvena strapped herself into the pod next to Trask and threw a jaunty salute. "See you landside."

The last wave of escape pods fell down on Taris in a shower of flames. Most of them had been hit by stray fire, while others had been shot down by Sith Interdictors. The burning pods were accompanied by a barrage of debris from the explosion of the Endar Spire that had covered their escape. Ruvena and Trask managed to scramble out of their pod with their gear and the emergency supplies before the first Sith patrol arrived.

"We should ditch our uniforms, the Sith will be looking for us. Will we regroup on planet or try to leave immediately? Are there even some sort of protocols for such an evacuation?"

Ruvena efficiently stripped off her armor, down to her nondescript black undersuit and waved at Trask to follow her example. She rifled through what the Republic deemed emergency supplies, dividing it into piles.

"You should take some of the credits. We won't need the survival gear, so we can sell that and buy stuff that is more useful on a city planet. Like - food! Look, we even have some of the good rations!", she exclaimed and raised some to prove her point.

"You seem to have a lot of experience with this kind of thing for a new recruit," he stated, a little too calmly.

"I have amnesia. I think I got it from some injury in battle. Would explain the awful lot of scars I have. Anyway, they fast-tracked me through training after it became obvious that although I don't remember being trained, I seem to remember what I learned. So... Plans?"

His stance relaxed visibly, but not completely. "We should try to find a way off this planet before the Sith catch us. Master Sunrider will try to organise a group effort if she is in the vicinity, so follow your urges if you feel a sudden need to visit a cantina. It will probably be her, rallying all Republic soldiers in range. Other than that? Survive. Don't get caught. You know. The usual."

He grabbed the heavier of the two reorganized Backpacks and slung it over his shoulder before helping her up and grabbing a bundle of armor. "We could just paint the armor instead of replacing it. Apart from the color, it's not that recognizable. Saves us a lot of credits, too. And spares us the explanation of how we lost our armor in the first place."

Ruvena nodded and undid her long braid before picking up the other backpack and the second bundle of armor. "Too bad your hair is regulation cut. Well, we're too heavily armed for pilots anyway, so mercenaries it is. There are mercenaries that wear their hair similarly, and no one should pay enough attention to you to spot the difference. I will be your distraction." She explained, winking and twirling around, feigning flirtatiousness. "You are too fair to pretend to be my protective brother, so you will have to be my husband. Jealous husband, probably, if I have to charm some merchants. Well? What are you waiting for?" He could do nothing but trail after her as she rattled off infiltration plans like his mother would banquet planning.

Trask had long since given up on trying to understand how his companion worked. Clad only in the skintight black undersuit, with her long dark hair unbound, she looked nothing like the Republic soldier he had met for the first time almost a day ago now aboard the Endar Spire . She had then proceeded to procure casual clothes for them, stock up their food supplies, find a dingy and small, but cheap apartment for them to rest in, and even obtain some really good paint for their armor. He watched her cover hers in a layer of grey with the same air of professionalism that had surrounded her the whole day.

"Is there anything you can't do?" He asked, only half joking. She looked up sharply before continuing to diligently paint the armor.

"I can't cook."

He laughed.

"I'm, serious. In bootcamp, I burned the porridge and scorched the tea. They banned me from the kitchen."

She finished the paint job with lines in dark red and spread the pieces out.

"It should be dry by tomorrow morning. We should grab some rest now and go cantina-hopping tomorrow to find out more about this blockade the Sith enacted and how to get off this planet. Maybe we'll even meet some of the others that came down nearby."

Ah yes. The blockade. No ships landing, no ships leaving. Someone really wanted to catch the crew of the Spire . Obviously someone who had no idea how a city-planet worked. The blockade was not even a day old, and already, people were protesting in anticipation of food shortages. This blockade probably would not outlast the week before some gang or other got creative and blew the Sith outposts sky high. They had to get away before the rioting could start. He nodded in assent and stretched himself out more comfortably on the flimsy mattress.

Watching her put on her armor was like looking at a piece of art. She moved with the grace and expedience of a seasoned veteran, although she could not be older than thirty. The wars of the recent decades had made young veterans of them all. She worked from her feet upwards, putting on each piece deliberately, rechecking the straps and seals on the way back down before securing the blaster rifle on her back and her blaster pistol on her hip. Last came the belt with her vibroblades. She looked like a goddess of war from legends of old. Trask caught himself staring and hurried to follow her example and strapping into his gear. They stowed away their remaining belongings and left behind the empty looking apartment.

The streets were only marginally more busy than the last evening, but they were given considerably wider berth, heavily armed as they were. Passing Sith patrols eyed them with suspicion, as they did with all who walked by. Otherwise, they did not stand out much, as they were not the only transients stuck by the blockade.

They stood out even less in the cantina, which was full of people like them: Traders, pilots, mercenaries and other sentient space debris, as planet-dwellers liked to call them, stuck planetside longer than both groups preferred, all thanks to the Sith. Trask pointed Ruvena towards one of the last empty tables and went to get some drinks, searching the room for any crewmates. She slumped onto the stool, rearranging her weapons for accessibility and listened to try and get a feeling of the mood of the grounded.

She was amazed how badly the Sith were handling the blockade, if rumours were to be believed. It was in fact a total blockade, and it seemed as if no amount of urgency or bribery could convince them to let a ship land or take off. This meant that already there were several large cargo ships of foodstuffs circling the planet in addition to the Sith fleet and the crowd of smaller passenger and trading craft. Why they did not just enact strict passenger controls and searched every incoming ship for rescue parties and every leaving ship for Jedi and republic soldiers, Ruvena could not understand. Jedi Master Sunrider would not leave the planet without Bastila Shan, of that, she was sure. Jedi were sentimental about their hosts like that. And just how did she know that with this absolute surety? No matter. The commander of this Sith blockade was obviously a moron, which was actually good, because on the long run, it made their escape so much easier.

Ruvena looked up as she saw Trask sit down across from her, sliding over a glass of what looked like it had wanted to become a Coruscanti Sunset in a different lifetime. "I thought a little pick-me-up was in order. The drinks don't look all that impressive, but the taste is quite fine." He explained, sipping on his creative interpretation of an Alderaani Meadowspice . "And just how did you land that rarity in this dark corner of the galaxy?" She asked, pointing at his glass. He reddened slightly and mumbled. "I, aah... may have usurped the bartender for a moment longer than actually appropriate. But you have to admit, he is quite good at following instructions!" Their giggles had just descended into a quiet air of amusement and relaxation as they were interrupted by a large stranger.

" Vod'ika ! Why didn't you tell me you were coming to Taris?" He exclaimed, pulling over a seat to join them. Say what ?

Even sitting down, he was tall and broad, clad in parts of Mandalorian armor over a form fitting black ensemble similar to theirs, with a brown leather vest over it. He had greying black hair, stormy grey eyes and a square jaw, and although he looked faintly familiar, Ruvena was sure that she had never seen him before. She turned to face him.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He did a double-take and searched her posture for something while she watched him in turn. She gestured to Trask to shut up as he set to explain about her amnesia. This was about to get very very interesting. She could not let him ruin her fun.

"Did you get lost again, vod'ika ? I was worried when I didn't hear from you for months. Again. I thought you were getting better."

His concerned tone tapered off towards the end when she did not show signs of recognition, and he sighed in defeat.

"You really don't remember me, do you? I'm Canderous, your brother. And whatever trouble you have gotten yourself into, this time, you won't be getting rid of me until we get rid of your trouble, Ruuni ."

Somehow, that nickname pulled on strings that Canderous had been tugging on since he had sat down and released a shadow of a memory, and suddenly, she knew .

" Ruusi !" She slid over and hugged him. Of course his features were familiar. She saw a set of very similar ones every morning in the mirror. How could she not have recognized him? Suddenly, her ignorance was almost embarrassing, although she knew that it was not her fault.

"I'm so sorry. I..." She drew a shaky breath as he slung an arm over her to lend her the moral support she did not know she needed. Meanwhile, Trask's eyes wandered from one sibling to the other, desperate to find either the family resemblance or evidence of a ruse or prank. He felt a little like a bystander in one of those silly holonet shows where the 'plot' consisted of an impossible pileup of improbable coincidences.

"I have amnesia. I woke up seven months ago in a medical center on Manaan, not remembering anything of my past. They managed to pull my name from some records - is our last name really Ordo? - but nothing else, and I ended up enlisting. My first post rained down on Taris yesterday." She pointed skywards to emphasize her point.

He nodded at her question and then began laughing so vigorously that he nearly fell from his seat and tears came to his eyes.

"A Mandalorian in the Republic army. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

Trask watched the alleged siblings reunite with a sense of trepidation. He was distrustful of fortunate coincidences from experience, and the string of luck they had had so far since the boarding of the Endar Spire only made him anticipate even greater misfortune in the near future. He was sceptical, but he could not deny that they interacted with an underlying comfort that spoke of thorough familiarity, a thing that was rare between siblings with such a great age difference separating them, but even rarer between unrelated people, which supported Canderous' claim.

While Canderous looked old enough to have been fighting in the Mandalorian War since the very beginning and during the height of their success, Ruvena was at least two decades younger, if not more, and may have joined the war closer to the end if at all, when the Mandalorians were already retreating from the combined might of Revan's tactical prowess and the full attention of the Republic Navy. Nevertheless, she listened to his recounting of the recent lives of various relatives and acquaintances with the rapt attention that could only belong to someone intimately familiar with the people he was talking about.

It seemed eerie to Trask, since Ruvena still did not consciously remember the people her brother talked about, as was evident in the way her eyes would occasionally light up in sudden recognition of a name or place. Furthermore, it was unusual for a that much younger sibling to be this involved in the life of an older one, but maybe Mandalorians were just weird that way. Trask had heard that they valued family and community much more than other peoples.

"... and so they both lost the bet and had to paint their armor yellow for a week." Canderous finished retelling an anecdote about two mutual friends of theirs, Dorian and Marian, that made Ruvena laugh the hardest yet.

"And he told you that, like this, in his last missive?" She asked between fits of laughter.

"Not literally." He denied, and that had to be some sort of inside joke she half remembered, because they both descended into the kind of chuckles that only conspiring rascals in the wake of their prank were capable of.

"So everyone I know and don't remember is still alive and well, but what about you?" She asked the question Trask had been waiting for for some time, sounding amused and scolding at the same time.

"You may not recall, but I was growing tired, and when Mandalore was defeated and you left , I did too. I had no desire to watch our people live and die as nothing but farmers, dirtside , after Revan took our bes'uliik and beskar'gam away, and half of our culture with it, and grounded us with only our oldest colonies to live on. Mandalorian mercenaries are in high demand. There are few that dare defy the command of the one who slew Mandalore the Ultimate and people still remember how we fought when we were free."

The events were familiar to Trask, but they sounded quite different from the losing side. During the battle of Malachor V, while large parts of the Mandalorian fleet were being obliterated in orbit, Revan had defeated and killed Mandalore the Ultimate on his own flagship in single combat. Without leadership and with most of their resources spent, Revan had been able to force the Mandalorians to give up their ships, weapons and armor, and they retreated within the borders of the systems that they controlled before the war, to planets that had been occupied for so long that there were more Mandalorians living on them than native species. Or so it was said in the recorded history of the Republic.

"I have been working for Davik Kang and the Exchange recently. Pay has been good, when he remembered to pay me, but I was beginning to worry for you when another message failed to appear. I was actually making plans to get off this rock to go looking for you, and excuses of you being busy be damned, when the Sith announced their 'quarantine'. Pah. As if anybody is dumb enough to believe that.

"If it was just the two of us, we could look for one of the old deposits from the occupation. The have to be some that have gone undiscovered all this time. We could take off with two of the old model bes'uliik and run the blockade, might be fun."

His tone betrayed that his definition of fun did not match with most people's. Ruvena's answering grin divulged a similar disposition to disagree with sensible folk. Trask was slowly beginning to realize that the bearing of his fellow soldier, her way of organizing things on the fly, her daring and audacity, had to be a result of her Mandalorian upbringing. Or maybe it was just this family that was utterly, irrevocably mad .

"With soldierboy here, we have to find a different mode of transport. Davik has been bragging about that new freighter of his, the Ebon Hawk , supposedly the fastest in the galaxy, capable of outrunning even the Republic's fastest Cruisers. The problem is that as a smuggling vessel, it has little fighting capabilities, as it relies on speed and evasion. And speed alone won't get us through the blockade."

Trask decided that this was a good moment to burst into the Mandalorian's little planning session. "We may be able to help with that. Your sister and I are not the only Republic soldiers stranded on Taris after the explosion of the Endar Spire , and there is at least one Jedi down here with us. She may be able to fool the Sith into thinking that our takeoff was authorized. Or we could stage a distraction, rouse all stranded pilots with ships to take off at the same time and hope to confuse the Sith. We may even be able to organize some sort of escort with more ships, maybe even those besu-thingies you spoke of."

" Bes'uliik . Basilisk war droids, in Basic. It is a good idea, but that will not work. They are sentient and only allow themselves to be ridden by people with the heart and guts of a Mando'ad , a true Mandalorian. And Ruuni may be one of the most capable and daring war-riders I have ever seen, but even us two together would be nothing but flies to splat for the Sith armada if we tried to play escort to your snail-ships, Republic."

It was almost funny how Canderous managed to be appreciative of his input and deeply disdainful of his last scheme all at the same time.

"Give me your commlink. I will contact you when I have any news or if anything unforeseen happens, otherwise, we'll meet again here tomorrow around midday. I have to get moving, I'm supposed to escort a rabble of Davik's hired nitwits into the Undercity to loot the escape pods that went down there, and there's only so much of their collective idiocy I can take without preparation." He explained as he fiddled with her commlink to enable future secure transmissions. He put down the modified commlink in front of her before he dropped a kiss on her brow, ruffled her hair affectionately and marched out.

"Is he always this..." Trask drifted off for lack of words.

"What, overwhelming? Larger-than-life? Awesome?" Her eyes sparked with mischief. "Yes."

"At least, I think so. The people he spoke of were familiar, and I think I would have noticed the difference if his behavior was not. And he can help us. Isn't that wonderful?"

"And wonderfully convenient. Don't misunderstand me, I appreciate the relative luck we have had, considering we survived in the first place, landed safely, and now this opportune happy reunion. I just worry that our good fortune will run out at the most untimely moment possible."

"I will gladly forsake all blessings for the near future if we just get to safety alive and in one piece."

He tried to shush her. "Don't tempt fate."

"What's the worst-"

"Dont!"

Ruvena sat up straighter when she saw a young woman enter the cantina. Her appearance caused an itch in Ruvena’s brain the same way Canderous had, she noticed, now that she knew the feeling. At a second glance, Ruvena was tempted to call her a girl, rather than a woman, because she looked as if there were more planets in this galaxy where she had yet to reach her majority then planets where she was of age.

The girl scanned the room and came over to them with a purposeful stride as soon as she spotted them. "I am so glad I found you." she blurted, cast around a glance for eavesdroppers and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"I wasn't trained for this." she confessed. "This was supposed to be a training mission for me, to get used to Master Sunrider and to my new duties. She was injured in the crash, you know, and now I am all alone, and technically, I am second in command for this mission and I have no idea what I am supposed to do and I am so glad that Master Sunrider insisted I learn the crew roster by heart or I would never have recognized you."

Her stream of words ended as she inhaled deeply, and Trask took the opportunity to interrupt her. "You are Bastila Shan? Good, we were hoping to find you."

The girl, and she was a girl, that much was clear from her insecurity and lack of experience, slumped into the seat Canderous had left behind, suddenly limp from the relief of handing responsibility over to someone older and more qualified.

"Sit down, calm down and rest. The evacuation was yesterday, were you able to find shelter? Did you rest at all?"

Bastila only shook her head at his questions and began to shiver all over, now that the strain of the last day was over.

"We should go back to our den. Trask will whip us up something to eat and you can finally get some sleep. There is nothing more we could accomplish here today anyway."

She cradled Bastila into her side with an arm as they got up to leave the cantina, and the girl melted into the embrace. She was already half asleep by the time they got 'home' and Ruvena tucked her in after they had stacked up the two mattresses and divested the girl of her boots, coat and lightsaber.

"What do you think happened? There are only so many injuries that can incapacitate a Jedi which don't kill the host immediately."

"I believe that Jedi Master Sunrider is not as gravely injured as Bastila believes. Maybe she isn't even injured at all. It is possible for a Jedi to exhaust themselves, healing their host. Bastila can't have been hosting for long, or she would not be this anxious. She probably misread fatigue for unconsciousness."

#Bastila. Bastila! Wake up, dear child.#

It was dark, and the room she was in was unfamiliar, but she recognized the two Republic soldiers sitting at the nearby table and eating.

#Master Sunrider, you are healed!#

Bastila missed Vima's annoyance at the title, but handed over control eagerly, so she let it drop and concentrated on more urgent matters. Their injuries from the crash were mostly healed, and sleep had quelled the worst of their weariness. She finished skimming over Bastila's memories of the time she had spent unconscious and crawled out of the nest of blankets they had slept in.

"I thank you for taking care of my Padawan when I was unable to."

"Master Sunrider. Come, join us."

"Please, call me Vima. Every time I hear someone calling for 'Master Sunrider' I get this urge to look over my shoulder for my mother and apologize for whatever trouble I got into."

She sat down and was quickly given a bowl of stew.

"I thought Jedi didn't have families like most species?"

Vima laughed at that blunt statement.

"That is true. Our childhoods are spent more communal, and genetic relation means nothing compared to the bond between a student and their master. But the relationship I share with Nomi and Andar Sunrider are most easily translated into Basic by the words 'mother' and 'father'. It is, as you said, a relationship more intelligible to other species. We share a name, after all."

"Vima, then. We may have a plan to get off this rock, but I'd like to hear your ideas first."

"First, we eat." She stated, and helped herself to a third bowl. "Then, I will meditate and try to find all of the crew. If none of them are in worse trouble than they can get themselves out of, I will leave with you and wave my presence through the Force as bait that will most certainly provoke Malak into following us and take the focus of his attention away from here, which should restore affairs on the planet to normal."

Watching the Jedi meditate was at the same time very boring and among the most fascinating things she had ever seen. The utter stillness of body that accompanied the quietness of mind was funny to see in a girl as prone to nervous quirks as Bastila, and bonded with a Jedi that seemed to have not yet completely outgrown the awkwardness and informality of youth.

"I found them. All of the soldiers that got away from the Endar Spire in time survived the evacuation and most of them are in a position to regroup without my intervention. Actually, all but one of them are, unlucky bloke. I can sense that he is alive, but injured and unconscious. I will be able to find him when he regains consciousness. Now, you said something about a plan?"

Ruvena did not know why she was blushing as she told what had transpired earlier that day.

"Yes. We met my brother in the cantina. I didn't recognize him at first, but he recognized me, obviously, and he said he should be able to get his hands on a fast ship. We would only have to disable or get the pass codes for the ground defense system. Evading the Sith blockade proper should be no problem if the freighter is as agile as we think it is. We will meet him again tomorrow in the cantina where we met you both to see what news he has and make some more plans."

Vima - or was it Bastila? It was difficult to differentiate between Jedi and Host for Ruvena, especially since both were unfamiliar - frowned at that, turning thoughtful.

"That is a fortunate coincidence. I see the Force is with you."

"I don't know of the Force, but Trask and I have been quite lucky, yes. I just hope this lucky streak continues until we get away from here."

"I will do everything in my power to ensure that."

Now it was obviously the Jedi speaking, and Ruvena noticed that her eyes turned green when she did. Bastila had grey eyes.

"Do you Jedi always change eye colour?" She did not know why, but it irked her.

"It is a simple way to indicate who of us is in control at the time. And Basic does not allow for the intricacies to make a distinction between I-the host , I-the-Jedi and we-both ."

Ruvena noticed that the last words were not Basic, but the comprehension tickled at her brain and she understood them anyway.

"What was that?"

"I am so sorry! Mother always said that it is terribly rude to project knowledge, but I sometimes forget. I just... gave you the knowledge to understand the words I said. I won't do it again, promise."

"See that you don't."

Ruvena did not know where her sudden anger came from, but was willing to attribute it to the headache Vima's unintentional intrusion had caused. She massaged her temples and sat down. She was getting weary, but she had no idea how the three of them were supposed to sleep tonight when they only had two mattresses. She was saved from brooding over that by the beeping of her commlink.

=Yes?=

=Little sister. Things are about to get interesting faster than we expected. We should meet at the lift to the Lower City, next to the cantina. Bring everything and everyone you have. I'll tell you more once you're there.=

He ended the connection before she could reply, obviously in a hurry. She turned to face her companions, who looked at her questioningly.

"We have to pack up and move out. If my brother says things are about to get interesting, he means it in the worst of ways. We want to be prepared when that happens. We will probably go for the ship tonight. Vima, can you fool the Sith into thinking we are an authorized takeoff?"

They burst into activity after her announcement, packing up what little they had unpacked previously and putting their armor back on again. They armed themselves with all blasters they had, which freed up some space in their packs. Trask crammed one into the other and strapped into the remaining backpack. As the only pure ranged fighter in the group, he would be least encumbered by the additional weight and bulk.

"I may be. But it would be easier if I didn't have to." the Jedi conceded as they moved out.

They arrived at the lift only to find Canderous already waiting impatiently. This time, he was in full armor sans helmet, and a lot more heavily armed. He greeted Ruvena with an arm-clasp and the others with a nod and waved at them to follow as he strode over to the Sith guarding the lift.

"I have business in the Lower City. Those three are with me." The brisk declaration caused the Sith guards to step aside and they filed into the lift.

"Good thing I went through the whole authorization shenanigans with them yesterday and they still remember me. Wouldn't want to remind them why it is wise not to piss me off." By now it was obvious to everyone. Canderous was in a mood.

"And who is it that you picked up while I wasn't looking?"

"That's Bastila Shan, she was travelling with us before we got stranded. What happened that got you in such a good mood?"

They stepped out into the dimly lit corridors of the Lower City, and followed after Canderous.

"There's trouble in the Lower City. I won't bore you with all the details, but the important thing is that, in addition to the swoop gangs being at each other’s throats as usual, one of them claims to have gotten their hands on a Republic officer and want to trade him for favors with the Sith, which is all kinds of complicated, both because of you and because the Exchange was supposed to have first claim on everything that came down yesterday. That works quite well for us in fact, because it gives me an excuse to be down here and stir things up a bit. I just thought you might want to get your hands on your colleague before he gets disappeared, and we won't be hanging around here long enough for anyone to figure out it was us after that."

His detailed answer eased any worries that they might be overheard, which gave Vima leave to introduce herself properly. She even managed to bow while walking without looking ridiculous.

"It is an honour to meet you, Canderous Ordo. I am Vima Sunrider. You were already introduced to my host."

If he was surprised that she knew his name without being told, he did not show it, and just nodded in acknowledgement. He did not even seem surprised that she was a Jedi. That in turn was something that surprised Ruvena, but she decided to let it drop, as they had more important things to worry about.

"We will be meeting with an informant first. She works directly with me and not Davik, and she certainly knows more about this whole affair than his flunkies. We will proceed accordingly."

The cantina he led them to was almost ironically similar to the Upper City cantina they were in before. They piled into the backroom booth he had chosen and were soon joined by a Rutian Twi'lek. She was around Bastila's age, but held herself with the kind of maturity that came with growing up at the fringes of society.

"I see you made some new friends. You gonna introduce me, Candy?"

Ruvena barely stifled her laughter at hearing that nickname, and she could see that she was not the only one.

"This is my sister Ruvena, and her colleagues Trask and Bastila. And the lovely girl that just joined us is Mission Vao." He pointed at each of them in turn. "What can you tell me about the guy the Black Vulkars are claiming to have captured?"

"Candy, I told you. I won't work for the Exchange, not even through you."

"So he was scraped from an escape pod. Good. I'm not looking for him on behalf of Davik."

"Actually, we are looking for him." Vima cut in. "If I am correct, the man they have captured is Commander Carth Onasi. And if the Sith get their hands on him, he won't survive the week. They may even honour their trade with the Black Vulkars, at least for a few days. In any case, it won't end well for the regular citizens of the Lower City."

"Lady, are you trying to appeal to my compassion? 'Cause I can tell you, there ain't nothing left of it."

"Actually, I was appealing to your survival instinct. Life in the Lower City may not be pretty now, but it certainly won't get better if the thugs get supplied by Sith and eventually become Sith. Helping us would prevent that from happening for some time, maybe even completely."

While Vima was talking, Canderous had thrown some credits and a piece of candy on the table.

"Now we're talking! So, the Vulkars have their prisoner stashed away in their base, and they think he's quite safe there, 'cause no one has the power to challenge them head on down here. A Sith detachment is supposed to come down tomorrow to collect him and discuss the reward, so if you want him you have to spring him tonight. I know a way to sneak in, but that's gonna cost you."

"Of course. I might even become generous and take you with me when we leave."

"Taris too boring for you, with the Sith stomping around?"

"No, I'm helping my sister, terminating the contract Davik was breaking anyway is just a bonus. The ship is big enough for one more and we could use your skills to sneak into the Sith base and snatch some codes. And you get so see the galaxy. Win-win little one, win-win." Mission nodded at that and stashed her credits away before inhaling the candy.

Canderous handed out stealth field generators as he explained. "We should at least try to get in and out unseen. I took another stealth unit for our guest, and we may get to the exit before anyone notices him gone. Just follow Mission for now."

They went in through some sort of hidden side entrance that Mission sliced open. The side corridors they sneaked through were abandoned, especially as it was getting late and most of the gang members were either sleeping or otherwise busy. Following a combination of Mission's and Vima's directions, they quickly arrived at another locked door that Mission sliced open.

"I can feel him on the other side. He is only sleeping." Vima explained, and in they went.

Commander Carth Onasi was lying in a corner of the tiny cell, curled up in a ball with his back to the wall. Vima went over to heal and wake him, while the others kept an eye out for unexpected company.

"Wake up. Commander, you must wake up. Carth!"

He snapped to attention with almost military precision, which was admirable considering the state he was in. Vima hushed him, Canderous slapped the stealth generator into his hand, Ruvena gave him a spare blaster and soon they were ready to go.

They returned through the same hallways they had passed before. About halfway back to the exit, the gang hideout broke into sudden silent activity, and they knew their stunt had been noticed. They slunk into corners and shadows and waited for groups of agitated thugs to pass before hurrying to the next niche.

"We can't keep this up much longer. He especially can't." Vima cautioned, after another bunch of thugs lumbered past their hiding place, and gestured towards Carth, who seemed to be barely holding it together.

"We don't have to. Our exit is just over there, see?"

Mission opened the door quickly and they filed out, glad to have escaped undiscovered.

"You two, keep the stealth fields running, I have no desire to explain to the Sith where and why I picked up guests. Mission, you should take Bastila with you to the Sith base, she might prove useful. You two, find someplace to stay and rest for a few hours, our quarry doesn't look well. Ruvena, you will be coming with me. We have a ship to liberate."

They went to the lift in a hurry and were promptly let through by a tired Sith trooper who did not even bother to pretend to look at them twice.

Davik Kang's estate also served as the Exchange's headquarters on Taris, and it showed. The entrance hall was an ostentatious clash of too much money with too little style, all rolled up in a room too spacious for any sensible person to find, well, sensible. They walked in arm in arm, Ruvena almost hanging off of his arm as she laughed about another funny story he told about his work. Although it was surprisingly busy for the late hour, they were let through undisturbed, mostly because Canderous was known, as was his personality, and nobody wanted to annoy the local grump out of his rare good mood. Well, almost nobody. They had almost reached the suite of rooms that were assigned to Canderous when a little man with a big hat stood in their way.

"Canderous. I see you finally found yourself a girlfriend. It was about time. You were driving away customers with that temperament of yours." The man stated while undressing Ruvena with his eyes.

"Take your filthy eyes off her, Nord, who knows where they have been last." Canderous groused. At the same time, Ruvena took matters into her own hands and slapped him. "Creep." Then she planted a kiss on Canderous' cheek.

They managed to keep from laughing until they were out of hearing range.

"I see your penchant for messing with other people's heads has not forsaken you."

"There's no need to confuse them with truth or reality once they have come to their own conclusions. Especially if they are so funny. And don't you dare disapprove now, you egged me on."

"So this is the kind of lovely company you spend your time with?" She asked once they were sprawled across the enormous chaise longue.

"No, that's the kind of annoying company I have to work with. Calo Nord is the worst kind of bounty hunter. He has no scruples, no integrity and his only loyalty is to money and to himself. I won't miss him one bit."

"How long do we have to wait?"

"Knowing Mission, no more than two hours. Why?"

"Wanna go and mess with that jerk's head for a bit more? You know where his rooms are, don't you?"

The wolfish grin that spread over his face was answer enough.

"Let's first pack up your stuff and prepare your rooms. We may have to leave in a hurry."

They swept through the rooms chuckling in anticipation. Canderous put on his complete armor and filled a crate with the weapons he could not carry on him and his few personal belongings while Ruvena took great care to rumple and mess up every horizontal surface of sufficient size. Leaving the crate in front of his door under a stealth field, they crept over to Calo Nord's suite, which was only a few doors farther down the same corridor. Ruvena was set on slicing the door open when Canderous just went through.

"Unlocked? Overconfident much?"

"Calo Nord trusts his reputation and he is overconfident in his knowledge of human nature. He does not expect the unexpected."

They managed to discreetly strip the rooms of credits, weapons and other valuables while creating the impression that nothing more happened to them than an uninvited overly amorous couple. They added their loot to the crate and harmonized their stealth fields before sneaking off towards the hangar.

On their way, they were contacted by Mission.

"I got it, you ready?"

"Almost there. You can set out now, you know the way."

They had already secured the cargo and were only waiting for the rest of the group to show up when their lucky streak ran out. Ruvena was already in the cockpit, performing the pre-flight-checks that could be done without powering the engines while Canderous was waiting next to the closest control panel for the others to board the ship so he could open the hangar doors for takeoff. Mission tapped him on the shoulder to indicate their arrival when he noticed that they had company. Calo Nord was sauntering into the Hangar, followed by his employer Davik Kang. They were flanked by two thugs of the disposable no-need-to-remember-their-names kind.

"I thought I heard something skittering around here. Show yourself!"

Canderous deactivated his stealth unit with a defeated sigh and raised his hands in a questioning gesture.

"So you have. Now what?"

"What are you doing skulking around between my ships, Ordo?"

Canderous was spared the trouble of adopting an innocent expression by his helmet. Instead, he imitated the most sincere innocent inflection he was capable of.

"I was just showing my friend around. She wanted to see your fleet, was so impressed by your place, I thought your ships might have the same effect." He drawled suggestively and waved a hand in Ruvena's direction, who was just coming down the boarding ramp of the Ebon Hawk .

"It is beautiful. The engines are a piece of art and..." she gushed excitedly, having caught on promptly. That she had come out meant that everyone else was in position and ready for takeoff. He turned to the control panel and quickly punched in the confirmation code.

"Actually, what I really wanted was to hand in my resignation, effective immediately, and blow this joint." He corrected as the hangar doors began to open and the Hawk's engines flared to life.

After a brief moment of confusion, Nord, Kang and his thugs began firing on Canderous, who had already drawn his blaster and opened fire at the end of his sentence. Ruvena had taken position on the half-closed boarding ramp and was trying to force the Exchange members to seek cover. It worked for the most part. They had not expected Ruvena's quick assistance and underestimated the capabilities of Canderous' armor, which allowed him to ignore the few shots that did not manage to evade. He reached the hovering spaceship with help from his jetpack and Ruvena closed the ramp to allow them to take off properly.

They congregated in the main hold one at a time. Vima was already sitting there cross-legged, deep in meditation to aid their escape. Mission was sitting at the communication relay, furiously inputting codephrases. Trask and a slightly less drawn Carth joined them after the transition to hyperspace.

"I flared my force presence just before hyperjump. That should provoke Malak into devoting his fleet to looking for me instead of harassing the population of Taris. We are en course to Dantooine. There is a Jedi Enclave there where we can rest and recoup. Our soldiers can stay there until you get new orders, and you two can surely find passage to wherever you want. Or at least to somewhere you can transit." Vima announced.

"I won't be going anywhere without my sister." Canderous announced confrontationally.

"Can we please discuss this later? We have several days until we arrive on Dantooine, and we are all overdue some proper sleep in comfortable beds. Everything else can wait until we are all more awake."

Chapter Text

The flight to Dantooine was almost remarkable in its tranquility after the previous days. Trask spent most of his time wrangling the food synthesizer into submission. Carth was still healing and slept a lot. Ruvena had swept through the whole ship on a mission to discover every hideyhole and modification previous owners had installed. Vima had retreated into meditation after a heated debate with Canderous, and so it was Bastila who was trying to keep busy while evading the brooding Mandalorian. Said Mandalorian had established himself in the garage his sister had found, pursuing the hobby all Mandalorians seemed to have in common: Tinkering with their armor and weapons. He was soon joined by Ruvena and Mission, though the latter restrained herself to witty comments and snatching a blaster, which everyone pretended not to have noticed.

Ruvena dreamt. By itself, it would not be worth mentioning. Her dreams since her reunion with her brother had become vivid strings of memories from her childhood, night for night. She felt more secure in her own skin, and reassured in her relationship with him, because he was always there with her, a little boy not much older than herself, playing hide and seek with the other children of the family. Learning to maintain and use a variety of weapons, how to ride a Basilisk, both droid and beast, although there were only few of the latter left. Following the herds of Oryx in summer, and tending to the bountiful groves in winter. Stealing taka-fruit from nearby families only to be chased away by their children, and chasing their children away when they tried the same. Recieving their first armor at age thirteen, when they officially left childhood behind. She did not to question how he looked so much more older than her now, compared to then. It didn't make sense, but it felt right in an elusive corner of her mind. This was how it was supposed to be. This was her childhood, happy although few non-Mandalorians would share that sentiment. This was her brother, once only a few years her senior, now about two decades older.

This dream was different. It had the same real quality to it as her childhood memories, but at the same time, she felt strangely disconnected from what was happening. She was watching a space battle through the giant observation screens in front of her, contemplating her success. Another battle won, another planet subjugated. All was well. Her meditation was interrupted when the bridge was stormed by a group of Jedi, accompanied by an escort of Republic soldiers, cutting and shooting their way through her crew.

"You can not win, -----!" Their leader announced.

She woke up. This time, there was not the gentle reassurance of rightness and homecoming, but a harsh loneliness combined with confusion. Where had that happened? When had that happened? She had felt the reassuring weight of a full set of Mandalorian armor in the memory-dream, but when could she have led a whole battle-fleet? Were those even her memories?

She quietly dressed in her under-armor for the first time since they had claimed the Ebon Hawk in preparation of their imminent arrival on Dantooine and made her way towards the food synthesizer. Trask's fiddling over the last few days had improved the quality of its output from 'edible' to 'almost tasty most of the time' and by now, they all preferred it over the rations they had left. She arrived to find that Canderous had followed the same train of thought she had, as he was dressed in full armor, sans helmet.

=The others still sleeping?= He greeted her, superfluously. The few days of travel together had showed how utterly incompatible their sleep cycles were. Ruvena and Canderous always rose first, due to a combination of a learned and ingrained habit to rise early and a certain adaptation to changing day-cycles when traveling between planets. Next came Trask and, as soon as he had recovered from his arrival at Taris, Carth, for much the same reasons. Vima also seemed to be an early riser, but she spent the early mornings in meditation and let Bastila sleep longer. Last to wake was Mission, who had last been off planet when she was little, and had little contact with military(-like) discipline in her life.

=I would have dressed properly if they weren't. You remember how cranky Bastila was the first morning. Nobody wants a repeat performance.=

"Why do you insist on gossiping about us in Mandalorian? And don't bother denying it, I may not speak the language, but I am still awake enough to recognize Bastila's name." Vima groused as she drug herself over to the caff dispenser.

"Actually, we were talking about how you didn't like waking up early. So, what happened to drag you out of bed?"

"Nightmares."

"Huh, you too? Well, not so much a nightmare as a seriously messed up dream. Since Canderous found us on Taris, I have been dream-remembering memories of my childhood. Tonight was different. It felt like the memory-dreams I've been having, but... not. I was standing on the bridge of a ship, watching a battle I commanded, when I was interrupted by a group of Jedi and Republic soldiers."

Vima gasped at Ruvena's description.

"That is what you dreamt? I didn't think that was possible..."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I will have to talk with the Council about this."

They were allowed to land on a Jedi-reserved landing pad after Vima commandeered the comms, and she immediately took of towards the Jedi Enclave. The rest of their motley crew piled out of the freighter after her, eager to breathe fresh air again. They had not even made plans for their first day off ship, when Vima already returned, agitated.

"The Speaker of the Council requests you speak with him immediately, Canderous. He will recieve Ruvena after that. You can go to the market or stay with the ship, but please, be somewhere I can find you when the Councillor is done talking to your brother. Come, I will show you the way."

The others scattered over the market that spread around the spaceport. They all had little possesions except for the clothes (or armor) they wore and their assorted weapons, and Ruvena's raid of the Ebon Hawk had turned up a small stash of credits among other things, enough fo a shopping spree for three displaced Republic soldiers and their Twi'lek companion.

It was after midday when Bastila finally came for her. Mission had exhausted them all with her enthusiasm - it did not take them long to notice that this was probably the first time she had been able to spend money in considerable amounts in a place where it made a difference - and they had hit up a street vendor for food and sprawled across the boarding ramp of their ship. Ruvena had willingly let it distract her. Helping Mission clothe two reluctant males that had spend more time in uniforms than out of them since leaving behind the age of being outfitted by one's mother was fun, even when she had to relent to 'own something different to wear than armor' in retaliation, and was likewise forced to play mannequin for Mission.

On the way, she was informed that Vima had gone into secluded meditation - she had not even known that going unhosted for periods of time was something Jedi did - and that the Council Speaker was waiting for her. Bastila led her to a small and secluded meditation chamber, where a small green creature was sitting on a cusion, and left.

"Greetings, young one. We are Council Speaker Vandar Tokare." They introduced themselves. "Welcome to our Enclave. Come, sit."

"Greetings, Master Jedi."

She sat down on a cusion across from the Jedi Master, and waited. She had no idea what this was about, and she suddenly felt very exposed without her armor.

"You need not worry. We have asked you to come here to discuss a delicate matter, but not a dangerous one, no matter how concerned your guide was."

"Why was she so concerned, then?"

"Because it concerns both her Jedi and you, and it is a host's prerogative to worry on behalf of their Jedi, even if it is unnecessary. Vima has told us of the dream you both shared-"

"Shared?" Ruvena interrupted the Jedi. "What do you mean?"

"From what you told her about your dream this morning, she concluded that you two had in fact, shared a dream-vision, which matched the fact that she felt not-alone in said vision. We have investigated that vision and have come to the conclusion that you are one of the few considerably Force-sensitive humans there are. We believe that during your struggles on Taris, you unconciously formed a Force-bond with the closest Force-sensitive you could find, Vima Sunrider. That is why you shared that dream-vision. You will need training for your gift, so you no longer have to worry about unintended consequences, and so you can embrace the advantages the Force and the bond give you."

Ruvena sat, stupefied. It was too much to handle at once. The Jedi waited patiently for her to sort through her confusion.

"You mean to tell me that I can do what Jedi do? Without actually being one?"

"With sufficient training, yes. We do not yet know the extent of your connection to the Force, and therefore the extent of your powers. And you will be a Jedi, if you accept our training. Jedi is both the name of our species and of our Order."

"What do you mean, if I accept your training? Didn't you say I need training?"

"That is our advice, yes, but you will not be forced, should you be unwilling."

She contemplated their conversation. It made a weird sort of sense, for Vima to leave so quickly and seek advice after she had been dragged into a Force-bond. But there was still something missing.

"But what does all of this have to do with Canderous? Why did you need to speak with him so urgently?"

"Vima has informed us of your condition, and we thought it wiser not to bother you with questions you can not answer. Will you accept our training, or do you have any more questions I can help you with?"

"I am curious, what did Vima and I witness in our dream?"

"Young Vima has told us that you saw a memory of her confronting Darth Revan. I trust you will not use this connection against her? She lost comrades in that battle, and her first host shortly thereafter."

Ruvena nodded in assent. "Thank you, Master Jedi."

"Thank you for your time, young one. Bastila will show you tomorrow where you will meet with your teachers."

Ruvena left, wandering aimlessly through the Enclave. It was fascinating, how the architecture was subtly adjusted to the needs of one particular small species. She understood that the Enclave was small, compared to the Temples on other planets, but the first impression was still memorable. High hallways lined with aqueduct-like walkways for unhosted Jedi led to meditation chambers, meeting rooms, training areas, libraries and gardens. Trough a wall of windows, she could see a pair of Jedi sparring in a courtyard. Even that was serene. The only thing she did not pass was anything resembling dormitories, which were tucked away somewhere else in the complex, she suspected.

She returned to the Ebon Hawk at dusk after an extended walk to find the whole crew together in the main hold, sharing the evening meal. Their lack of curiosity showed that they already knew of her impending training at the Enclave.

"Did you miss me?" She grinned as she sat down between Canderous and Trask. "And did anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Nope, and nope." Mission denied with a cheeky grin of herself.

"Then you won't miss me when I'm gone the whole day tomorrow. Actually, will I be gone the whole day tomorrow?"

"Your training will start tomorrow morning with a meeting with Lore Keeper Dorak. He will show you the libraries that can help you in your training, and he will guide you through the basic meditation techniques every youngling learns first. It is up to you if you will stay at the Enclave to meditate and study, or come back here to do whatever you want to. But mind, the more you concentrate on your studies, the faster you will learn."

"Alright, you will have to amuse yourselves without me tomorrow. And probably in the near future. I see lots of datapads in my near future. Vima, can I take datapads from the Enclave to read them here?"

"I don't know. Lore Keeper Dorak will have to decide that. You can ask him tomorrow."

That night, she dreamt again. She felt the reassuring weight of armor. Again, she was filled with the grim satisfaction of a plan going well. Again, her contemplation was interrupted by Jedi.

"You can not win, -----!"

She had turned to face her attackers and did not see the turbolasers before the impact shook the ship. There was only one ship in that direction, and that was the second flagship of the fleet. Rage at that bold betrayal surged through her as the next barrage hit and knocked her down. The shields were disabled, and the third barrage ripped through the ship.

She woke up, even more confused than the morning before. Her dream did not fit with the explanation the Jedi had given her. Those could not be Vima's memories, bleeding through the bond. Her dream began before they even arrived at the bridge. So whose memories did she actually share? She made a mental note to ask Vima a few pointed questions over breakfast and searched her locker for comfortable clothes.

She did not have to wait long for Vima to join them. In the meantime, her irritation had simmered down into mild annoyance by virtue of caffa.

"Those are not your memories we are reliving in our shared dreams, are they?"

"No, they are not."

Vima refused to explain any further, and was quick to urge her to leave for the Enclave to begin her training. Ruvena was uncertain how much of that stemmed from desire to see her trained, and how much was just the desire to get rid of her.

Lore Keeper Dorak was a serious Jedi hosted in an aging human male by the name of Egan Merani. They switched off showing her around the Enclave and explaining where she could find historical records, philosophical treatises and training manuals appropriate for her skill level. It was refreshing and contagious to see how Jedi and host shared an enthusiasm for knowledge and the sharing of it. Their approval of her wish to take the datapads elsewhere was followed by a list of reading recommendations, that she immediately collected and stored in a bag she had brought. She was then showed to a different meditation chamber than she had been to the day before. It was slightly larger, and better suited to the needs of human-sized individuals.

"Meditation it vital to a Jedi. To us, it is both a means to quiet our minds and open them to the Force, and to strengthen the bond between Jedi and host. It will be both easier and more difficult for you to meditate with the Force, as while you do not have to be in harmony with another, you also lack the innate understanding of a Jedi."

"I apologize, that came out rude. What he means is that Jedi younglings have memories of many things, that includes the knowledge how to touch the Force and to recognize that connection. You don't, and I have to admit that we both don't know how to show or teach you something that usually has no need to be taught. According to our records, Force-sensitives that are not born into the handful of Force-sensitive species are rare, and there was no mention of how they were taught. Unfortunately, we don't even know how other species that do not share memories teach their young, for their methods may be applicable to you."

"I understand." And she did. She could empathize with the frustration of a scholar used to having all the answers, or at least knowing where to find them, who could not find answers to vital questions. "So, I just quiet my mind and listen to the Force? Or do I reach out?"

"At first, you will wait and listen. Once you have mastered that, we can move on to active meditation and what that entails."

She had spent more time at the Enclave than she had expected and it was already late afternoon when she returned to the ship. The men had returned shortly before, as they were still busy shedding their armor.

"Are you so bored already that you have to go looking for trouble?"

"Nah, only so bored that we decided to chase around some kath hounds that were bothering the people."

"We would already be on our way to our next assignment if it had not been decided that we need some downtime after the spectacular end of the last one." Carth explained with a handwave encompassing him and Trask.

"Well, as long as you don't take apart our ship, you can do whatever you like." Ruvena streched out comfortably and fished the first of many datapads from her bag to read.

This dream was different. She felt elated, almost giddy. She and her companion were standing in front of a sealed gate, wondering how to open it.

"The Dark Side is strong in this place - I can feel its power!" He proclaimed as she finally found the opening mechanism.

#Is this wise? This archway was sealed for a reason. We can still go back home, to the Jedi Order. If we continue this path, the Order will surely banish us. Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?#

Her irritatingly cautious inner voice sounded suspiciously like herself, and it bothered her that she did not listen to herself. They went into the cavern side by side and activated the console. A map of the galaxy unfolded on top of it and bathed the room in its cold blue glow.

She woke up. This time, Ruvena was sufficiently agitated to wake Vima immediately and question her.

"I want answers. Whose memories am I dreaming of? Why won't you just tell me?"

"I- We had hoped to spare you from this. Come with me, I will tell you, but only you."

Vima continued only after they had ensconced themselves in yet another meditation chamber.

"I don't know how to explain it, because I still don't know how it happened, but when I confronted Darth Revan on his flagship and the Dark Lord of the Sith died, a part of his memories was somehow transferred to me. Because we share a Force-bond and you are recovering your own memories, we are also uncovering the memory-fragments of Revan. I was working on blocking that part of the bond so you would not have to suffer from the delusions of a madman."

"So this bond obviously goes deeper than you thought or anticipated. What does that mean for me?"

"Above all, your training is more important than ever. The Dark Side of the Force is elusive and seductive. Exposure to the memories of a Sith Lord will bring you closer to those dangers, and only proper Jedi training can protect you from that. Secondly, my access to the memories of Darth Revan seems to be linked to you and the recovery of your own memories. When the Council discovered what had happened to me, it was decided that I should try and search those memories for clues that can help defeat Darth Malak. You are now also part of this endevour."

"Thank you. Is it always this difficult to get helpful answers out of a Jedi?"

"It has been known to require exceptional amounts of patience." Bastila confided with a wink. "Come, you skipped breakfast on the Ebon Hawk, but there is a refectory in the Enclave for all those to busy or lazy to prepare food themselves. We can eat there, and you can tell me how your training with Master Dorak went yesterday."

The relationship between Ruvena, Vima and Bastila relaxed after that. The secrecy surrounding their shared dreams had strained it without them noticing, and with that resolved, they felt closer to each other. Vima shared useful pointers for her training and funny anecdotes about various Jedi Masters, and Bastila showed her her favourite spots around the Enclave. It turned out that Bastila had grown up in the Enclave and knew more about it than Vima, who had trained on Coruscant. The memory-dreams of Revan became infrequent, allowing Ruvena to recover more of her own memories. The others kept busy with performing small tasks for the settlers living around the Enclave and a partial overhaul of the Ebon Hawk.

"Vima, why are there different, seemingly contradictory versions of the Jedi Code?"

"There are? Show me."

Vima studied the datapad with an expression of intense concentration and confusion on her face.

"This actually makes sense. It is a translation issue. The original Code was concieved in the First Language that we spoke before the first hosts, and that we still speak today when not hosted. The original wording is impossible to translate and difficult to paraphrase in Basic. Both versions of the Code you have found are attempts at transforming the long description into a shorter form that is suitable for repetition and recitation. The closest rendition of both 'Emotion, yet peace' and 'There is no emotion, there is peace' would be 'We strive for peace to overcome the burden of our emotions', although even that is a simplification. We do not deny emotion, to do so would be foolish. But we strive not to act on them, to be peaceful and think our actions through, because it is easy to cause harm unintentionally, and even easier to do so with the Force. I think my explanation works for every line. Does that make things clearer for you?"

"Yes, thank you."

They were sitting in the shade of a tree after meditating together when they were interrupted by a Jedi.

"We have been watching your progress with interest, Initiate. I am called Zhar, my host is Jada Lestin. You were deemed ready for your first trial. You will go where the Force leads you and return with a lightsaber crystal. Then, you will use that crystal and construct your own lightsaber." They snapped and left.

Ruvena needed a moment to process their incohesive rudeness.

"What crawled up their ass and died?"

"I don't know. Master Zhar is known for his patience, for him to be this rude, especially without cause, is weird. Even weirder, that Jada didn't stop him. I knew her even before she became host, she was very nice to me when I came to the Enclave."

"Well, you heard what they said, I'm going crytal hunting tomorrow. Do I have to go alone on this 'quest'?"

"It is not required, as long as you decide where to go and let the Force guide you. Why?"

"I have spent so much time alone or with you, studying and meditating, I want to take Canderous with me and spend some time with him."

"I understand. It might even be wiser not to go alone, you heard what the others said about kath hounds and marauders on the plains. There may be too many for you to handle alone."

"You could join us too, if you like? Trask and Carth will be busy with the Ebon Hawk, and to be honest, I don't even know what Mission is doing all day, but somehow, she is always busy the whole day, as well."

"I would like that, yes."

They left early the next morning, before the others even woke up. Canderous and Ruvena had donned their armor, and even Bastila wore a cross between armor and Jedi robes in form of a tight fitting bodysuit instead of the flowing casual dresses she had opted for at the Enclave. Ruvena lead them cross-country through the grassy plains instead of following the winding field road that lead from fram to farm. She had just announced that they were close to their destination when they spotted a group of Mandalorians skulking through the high grass.

"Those must be the 'Mandalorian' bandits I heard about. They have been harassing nearby farms and making nuisances of themselves. Cowards. I think we should show them what real Mandalorians are made of. Ruvena, you will circle them from the left, I will circle right. Vima, you go straight ahead. A real ambush won't be necessary, there's only six of them."

They surrounded the bandits as Canderous had planned and ambushed them flawlessly.

"You are a disgrace. You have put your people, your clan and your family to shame. You are unworthy of your armor, and unworthy of your name. I call you no-name, and I strip you of your skin!" Ruvena took the time to denounce them as they scrambled for their weapons and cover, in vain. To do so in Basic instead of Mando'a only added insult to injury.

The first one was dead before his hand reached his blaster. The second one suffered from the brilliant idea to shoot at Vima, and had his shot redirected at him. The third and fourth got to close to Ruvena and her vibroblades. The last two were picked off by Canderous and his heavy blaster. It was almost anticlimatic how quickly it was all over.

"Amateurs." Canderous scoffed. "If this is what they are reduced to without leadership, they don't deserve a Mand'alor. Pathetic."

He went on to strip the corpses of their armor with Ruvena's help.

"Their armor is not even worth the effort. This Republic rubbish you wear is better. Nice paintjob by the way. You should still exchange it for a proper set sooner rather than later."

"I must have had a set of beskar'gam. That would be a good alternative. You don't know perchance where it vanished to?"

Canderous only shook his head.

Later, when they were again on their way towards Ruvena's future lightsaber crystal, Vima remembered a question that had come up during the fight, when Ruvena had cast their enemies out.

"When you called the bandits 'no-name', just how significant is that for a Mandalorian?"

"Very. Names are important. What good do all the glorious deeds on a battlefield do, when nobody remembers that it was you, and knows the name that carries the honour? Why do you ask?"

"I guessed as much. The seriousness was familiar. The only thing a Jedi really owns is their name and their identity. Everything else, from the smallest modification of appearance to clothes, is shared with the host and decided upon in unison with the host. That makes us very partial to the names we chose, but also to the names we are given."

Canderous nodded.

"It is similar for Mandalorians. In many situations, Mandalorians can only be identified by armor and name. On one hand, the armor makes us all the same, Mandalorian, but on the other hand, personalized armor marks us as individuals in a society where helmets are a usual part of attire. This is why what Cassus Fett did with the Neo-Crusaders was so unusual. He took away part of their identity, their face , and they cheered him on for it."

They were shushed by Ruvena.

"Quiet! I can't hear the Force over your babbling. We're close, very close, but I can't find the entrance."

She walked slowly through the scrub, stopping frequently to touch the Force and adjust her path. She finally found the cave entrance obscured behind a particularly thick and spiky shrub.

"I'll be back soon." She announced before she squeezed through.

The cave was dark, and only lit sporadically by the colourful glowing crystals. Ruvena walked slowly, only watching the floor not to stumble, and otherwise relying on her connection to the Force to lead her to the right crystal. She came to stand in front of a cave wall speckled with golden lights and ran her hand over them to feel the right one.

"Aren't you pretty?" She whispered when she discovered what she had found. The crystal had a soft orange glow that reminded her of dawn. Still, she felt that her search was not complete. Using her newly acquired crystal as a cross between compass and lamp, she walked further into the cavern. She finally found her second crystal on a protrusion not far from the ground. Instead of glowing, it sparkled purple in the light the sourrounding crystals emitted.

When she came out of the cave, she found Bastila and Canderous absorbed in a game of kalah that they had drawn on the ground. In the light of day, she recognized why the two crystals belonged together. The one she had found first was bronze in colour and glowed orange like the dawn over Ordo. Her second crystal was orange-red and sparkled purple-red in the sun, just like winter dusk on Ordo. This was home. She stowed them in a belt pouch before assessing the position of the sun.

"Can we make it back to the Enclave before it gets dark, or is it too late for that?"

"We better camp here or somewhere on the way. We might make it back if we hurry, but who knows what we might meet on our way back that slows us down, good or bad."

"Then we better get going. I don't want to sleep here and wake up with a face full of thorns."

They found a cluster of trees that was more grove than thicket and set themselves up comfortably for the night, protected from weather and discovery alike. Bastila was surprised when both Canderous and Ruvena produced packages of food from seemingly nowhere.

"You didn't bring anything?"

"I did not expect this trip to take more than a day. How come you have food with you? And where did you carry it?"

"Bastila, we are nomads and usually wear armor. I had to fiddle with this Republic standard issue a bit, but Mandalorian armor is designed with a lot of storage space for things one might need while traveling. Food is just one of them. What did you think we were doing in the swoop hangar the whole trip to Dantooine?"

Ruvena rifled through their provisions and gave two packages to Bastila.

"Here, take the cake and dried fruit. Those are the least peculiar in taste, or so I have heard. I'm not about to inflict you on the good stuff. Especially since we don't have much left. We'll have to make a trip to resupply once I'm done with my training."

"What kind of trip?"

"Hmm, hunting, maybe fishing. Scour the market for the right produce and spices, or at least acceptable substitutes. Canderous managed to make decent uj'alayi on Taris, and we should be able to do a whole lot more on a planet that is not just city. Actually, are there lakes or even an ocean somewhat close to the Enclave?"

"There is a lake about half a day travel south from the Enclave. We went swimming there when I was a child."

"Then you can show us around. Actually, we should just take everyone with us for that part. Do a bit of fishing, a bit of swimming... Lounge around in the sun. It will be fun. And I'm pretty sure Mission has never seen a lake in her life."

They arrived back at the Enclave late in the morning, and Vima immediately led her to a laboratory that was lined with shelves that were stuffed full with lightsaber parts and partially constructed lightsabers.

"You have already read about the basic principles behind the construction and function of a lightsaber. As this is your first lightsaber, the rest is up to you and the Force. I will stay here with you in case you need help."

Canderous had followed them and stood in the doorway with his helmet tucked under his arm, watching curiously.

Again, Ruvena let the Force lead her and finally arrived back at the central table to a pile of machinery and metal.

"Can I take this back to the Ebon Hawk and build my lightsaber there? I'd prefer to work with the tools I am familiar with, and some of these parts will take a bit of 'convincing'."

"Of course. Let me take a look if you haven't missed anything important."

Vima quickly checked the pile of parts and they divided it in three for ease of transport.

In the swoop hangar, Ruvena spread the parts over the workbench and collected the tools she anticipated to need. Finally, she retrieved her lightsaber crystals and set them to the side. It was at the same time hard work and flowed easily from her hands to weld, bend and fiddle the parts together the way they belonged. She used the Force to properly align the inner mechanism and opened her eyes. In front of her lay two plain lightsaber hilts that looked completely identical. She knew that the only difference was the crystal within. She picked them up and twirled one in each hand to get a feeling for the weight and size of the hilt in her hand. Then, pointing away from her audience, she ignited both at the same time.

"Ooooh, they're beautiful!"

"Huh, when did you come in Mish?"

"Uhm, several times this afternoon? It is evening, you know."

And so it was. She had spent over half a day constructing. She swung the lightsabers experimentally, admiring the glow, and how they hummed und buzzed through the air.

"Come, you should show the others. We have all been waiting for you to be done."

They were in fact all sitting in the main hold, waiting for Ruvena to emerge and show them the fruits of her work. She first showed around the plain, unimpressive hilts she had made.

"Those are remarkably smooth for a first lightsaber. Most Jedi's first lightsabers are more like a rough draft than a perfect weapon. Then again, those, we build as younglings, and you are older and have a stronger connection to the Force."

Vima had just finished her praise when Ruvena ignited her first lightsaber. It shone just like its crystal with the bronze-orange of dawn. The second one, she ignited just after. Its blade was deep purple, but it had a red-orange core that was almost Sith-like.

"Do the blade colours have any significance? I mean, those are the crystals the Force led me to, but I read about Sith having exclusively red blades, and some texts assigned blade colours to differently trained Jedi."

"There are no strict rules. Some Jedi choose their lightsaber crystals because they like the colour. Others, like you, are led to specific crystals or come into the possession of them by circumstance. There are Jedi who assign significance to the colours, for example believing green more cerebral, but there are probably as many opinions on that as there are Jedi, if not more. And while the most recent Sith chose to wield red blades, not all Sith did so, and there are Jedi who wield a red blade without ever becoming Sith."

Vima tried to reassure her, but only confused her more. Canderous words were more successful.

=They are beautiful. Blades of dusk and dawn. They fit you well, sister.=

She shut the lightsabers off with a slight smile.

"And where do I put them now?"

"Show me your lightsaber. Look, you can add a clip here. You can use that to attach the lightsabers directly to your belt, or put a matching mechanism on your belt to make the connection more resilient. But there probably won't be enough room for your vibroblades and your lightsabers at the same time."

She did find a way to arrange the scabbards of her vibroblades and the holsters of her blasters in a way that allowed her to clip both lightsabers to her belt without any of the weapons interfering with each other.

"Is that not a bit too much?"

Both Carth and Trask had watched as she arranged the weapons with the help of Canderous.

"There is no such thing as 'too many weapons'!"

They chuckled when they noticed they had chorused the Mandalorian proverb. Ruvena got into a crouch and drew and put back every weapon in succession.

"It works, but all the blasters will be obstructive in melee, and I probably won't use my vibroblades anyway when I have my lightsabers."

She continued to discard half of her weapons again and shuffle the remaining around another time.

Learning how to wield lightsabers instead of vibroblades was both easier and harder than Ruvena had expected. While she had good reflexes and was used to melee fighting, a lightsaber was differently balanced, had no edge and direction and most importantly, cut through almost everything. This meant that she had to unlearn many habits that were useful and advantageous when fighting with a regular bladed weapon, but dangerous when using a lightsaber.

Canderous had been watching her sparring sessions with Vima frequently, and gave suggestions how to transform her Mandalorian bladework into something more appropriate for her new weapons. One of the problems he noticed was that she was used to deflecting weapons towards her armor when blocking. What was a brilliant technique when wearing armor made of beskar, which was resistant to lightsabers and almost indestructible, was very foolish when wearing armor of lesser quality and moreover wielding a lightsaber herself.

"The progress you have made is impressive, young one."

Vandar Tokare had been coming to watch her bouts against Vima occasionally.

"There is little left for now that you can learn through training alone. We have decided that it is time for your final trial.Not far to the east, you will find a meditation grove. It has been tainted by the Dark Side of the Force. Go there, and cleanse it to show what you have learned. We will await your return, Initiate."

Ruvena could see from a distance why the place had been used for meditation. The grove was surrounded by hills that protected the trees from the fierce winds of Dantooines plains. The trees in turn surrounded the paved center that was lined with low walls of carved stone. It looked very calming, but she could sense the darkness emanating from the center of the grove even on the hills. There were frenzied kath hounds stalking the perimeter like guard dogs.

She activated her stealth unit and crept closer, one lightsaber already in hand, unlit, in case the hounds discovered her anyhow. She managed to reach the paved inner area uninterrupted, where she discovered the source of the darkness that permeated the area. A Cathar was kneeling there, meditating and pouring anger into the Force.

"I will be your doom!"

The Cathar noticed her earlier than she had anticipated, and Ruvena was glad a lightsaber was already in her hand, because she had to block the first strike immediately. She hurried to draw her second lightsaber and parried and dodged the series of furious strikes that followed. When she had exhausted herself and her assault faltered, Ruvena disarmed her.

"Who are you? Why did you attack me?"

"I am Belaya, and this is my grove you invaded. When I embraced the Dark Side, I found solace here. It is mine!"

It was fascinating how the Jedi managed to sound so coherent while her host looked almost feral, half-crouching with her claws extended, poised to jump her percieved attacker even with inferior weaponry. She picked up the fallen lightsaber with the Force and sat down next to it on a nearby wall to project amenity.

"Why did you embrace the Dark Side?"

"After I killed my Master in anger, I knew there was no place for me at the Enclave. I came here to free myself of the dogmatic tenets of the Order and seek true power."

"And what will you do with that power? I assume you have been corrupting the kath hounds? They have been harrassing the surrounding farms. But you? You just sit here and do nothing. The power you seek is wasted on you."

She was uncertain where the scorn came from that tinged her voice, but it seemed to have an effect on Belaya. She seemed to fold into herself as she knelt down in supplication.

"You are right. I am unworthy, and you have bested me. You should kill me now, as is your right."

"Kill you? Why should I do that? The Jedi sent me here to cleanse the grove, but I refuse to believe they wanted me to kill you. Maybe you could just go back? And let go of the Dark Side?"

"You are no Jedi. You do not know what you are talking about."

She now seemed more sulking than angry, and it made Ruvena curious as to how strict the Jedi Order's stance on fallen Jedi was, and how strictly it was enforced.

"Who told you that once you fall to the Dark Side, you have to stick with it? Just because you made one mistake doesn't make you a bad person. And if you have learned from it, you have a story to tell and a lesson to teach, so others don't make the same mistakes you did. Come with me. Speak to the Council. I'm pretty sure they will say the same thing. And to be honest, I don't believe you have killed your master in a sparring match. The Masters would never have sent me out here alone if they thought you that dangerous."

The last sentence pulled an involuntary weary smirk from Belaya, and she seemed very much like a teenager in that moment, confused and angry at the world, rebellious, but not truly malicious. It was an odd contrast to the mature woman her host was. Ruvena reached out her hand and pulled her up.

"Let's go."

They were greeted by a group of Jedi that was waiting for them at the entrance to the Enclave.

"You have done well. You have brought home one of our lost children, and you return yourself a worthy Padawan of our Order."

"Thank you, Master Jedi."

"Belaya. Juhani. Come. We have much to talk about, yes?"

Vandar Tokare led the now shaking Cathar inside, and most of the other Jedi followed after them. Vima joined her on her way to the Ebon Hawk.

"Now that you have been elevated to Padawan, our real task begins. We believe that parts of our dreams about those 'Star Maps' take place here on Dantooine, and the Council agreed when we talked to them about it. There are old ruins that have been forbidden for a long time, because they are steeped in darkness so intense that it could not be purged. We will go there as soon as you are ready and see what we can find."

Ruvena only nodded. Convincing a stubborn Jedi that she had not fallen as irreversibly as she thought had been more exhausting than she had realized.

The ruins were much closer than they had anticipated, and so Ruvena, Vima and Bastila arrived midmorning at the archway that they had seen Revan unseal ind their dreams.

"Malak was right. The Dark Side is very strong here. It's almost suffocating. Keep your shields tight."

"Did you see how Revan and Malak opened this?"

"It was something over here."

Vima found the Force-lock Revan had released in their vision and deactivated it. Behind it was a maze of corridors and rooms. Finally, they reached a chamber with a high ceiling, and within that chamber stood a single droid of eccentric design. It spoke a guttural alien language that was faintly familiar but still incomprehensible to her.

"Vima, Bastila, did you understand what it said?"

They shook her head as the droid spoke again in another language.

"It seems to be programmed to establish communication, it will probably cycle through all its available languages until it find one we can understand. I just hope it won't take too long."

=I have been programmed to reproduce any language spoken by the slaves of the Builders.=

"That one, I understood."

"Me, too. Sounds a bit like Selkath. Why would a droid on Dantooine be programmed with ancient Selkath?"

=Communication was vital to ensure that the slaves constructed this temple according to the wishes of the Builders.=

"Who are those 'Builders'?"

=The Builders are the great masters of the galaxy, the conquerors of all worlds, the rulers of the Infinite Empire and the creators of the Star Forge.=

"Uh huh. And what is the Star Forge?"

=The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their Infinite Empire. It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest.=

"But what is it? What does it do?"

=The Star Forge is the glory of the Builders, the apex of their Infinite Empire. It is a machine of invincible might, a tool of unstoppable conquest.=

"Star Forge... We thought that was where the Sith's seemingly infinite fleet came from, but there seems to be more behind it, considering the cryptic answers this droid is programmed with."

They were questioning the droid by turns, but the preprogrammed answers were wearing all their patiences thin.

"What is your purpose?"

=I am the Overseer. The Builders programmed me to enforce discipline among the slaves while this monument to the power of the Star Forge was constructed. At project completion all slaves were executed. I was reprogrammed to serve should a Builder return in search of knowledge of the Star Forge. But you are not of the Builders. You are like one that came before.=

"Revan."

Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"So we have a species we have never heard of with an empire we have never heard of and a 'tool of unstoppable conquest' no one but us - and Revan and Malak - has ever heard of. And we have no idea how to find it."

"Didn't the droid say it was programmed to serve should someone search knowledge of the Star Forge?"

=My purpose is to aid those who seek knowledge of the Star Forge, if they are worthy. The ones that came before you sought knowledge of the Star Forge and its origins. They proved themselves worthy. They discovered the secrets of the Star Forge locked beyond the sealed door behind me.=

"How can we prove ourselves worthy?"

=Enter the proving grounds. There, those who understand the will of the Builders can unlock their secrets and open the doors. Those who fail will be destroyed by the power of the temple itself.=

They had noticed that the chamber had doors in each of its walls, but dismissed it as less important than the droid. The two doors to the side had opened now.

"Beroya, cabur,
vhett, baar'ur,
riduur, ver'alor,
buir, mand'alor!"

She ended up pointing her hand on one of the open doors.

"That one first. Let's go and see what that test entails."

Behind the door was another chamber. The ceiling was lower, but not by much, and it was longer and less square than the central room. Within it stood another droid of similar design to the Overseer, except that it was obviously armed. It whirred to life when they approached and began spewing flames into their direction.

"It only has weapons pointed into one direction. I will keep its attention on me while you attack from behind. My armor is better suited to resist fire."

Vima wanted to protest but could see the wisdom in this approach. She jumped over the droid while drawing and engaging her saberstaff. The green glow cast an eerie light on the droid as it activated its flamethrowers once again. The fire cascaded over most of her armor ineffectively while Vima tried to chop the droid into bits from behind. Ruvena had to dodge and retreat when it became obvious that the droid would just melt her armor if it had to to get rid of her, and the air became to hot to breathe without a pressurized helmet.

Instead of following her or turning its attention to Vima, the droid began firing at her with some kind of blaster. She tried to deflect the bolts with her lightsaber only to see them fizzle though it and impact her armor anyway.

"Vima, hurry up. The droid has a lightsaber-traversing blaster. I can't keep it occupied much longer."

Moments later, the droid crumbled to the ground in pieces.

"What took you so long?"

"This droid is Force-resistant. I could not disable it with the Force, and it had a high-powered melee shield that I could not disable either. I had to burn through its shields with my lightsaber."

"Well, I'm glad that your burning went faster than its burning. My armor is fried. We have to try something different if there is another droid like this in the opposite chamber."

They stalked past the droid-wreck to see what it had been guarding and found a console whose display lit up when they approached. It was showing an array of foreign looking characters that reminded her of symbolic renditions of half moons with some stretched variants and added dots.

"Great. Another language barrier. Or can you read this?"

"Unfortunately not. And I doubt we can get this console to try out different scripts until we stumble upon one we can read."

In that moment, the console whirred and a surprisingly modern looking datapad access port was revealed.

"Or we can just put a datapad there and hope that this does in fact mean that the console will adapt to the main language on the datapad and not eat it, or something."

"Are you paranoid or trying to be funny?"

Ruvena shrugged and inserted her datapad into the access port. The console whirred again.

"You actually brought a datapad? Why would you bring a datapad to on a scouting mission? And where did you carry that?"

"Haven't you learned your lesson yet about Mandalorians, overpreparedness and the magnificent cargo ability of Mandalorian-modified armor?"

They both had to laugh at that. Several lines of characters passed over the screen before the display changed to Aurebesh and Galactic Basic respectively.

INTERROGATIVE: IDENTIFY THE THREE PRIMARY DEATH-GIVING SEED WORLD TYPES
OCEANIC
GRASSLAND
DESERT
VOLCANIC
ARBOREAL
BARREN

"Seriously? After that droid, such a question? Is that a joke or did they expect potential seekers to be idiots?"

She put in desert, volcanic and barren. The console hummed.

PLANETARY TYPE CONDUCIVE TO DEATH
BREAKING DEATH SEAL

They heard a faint clicking sound.

"One down, one to go."

The room on the other side was a mirrored copy to the one they had come from, including the droid.

"This time, we try to flank the droid so its flamethrower can't hit either of us. With three lightsabers we should burn through the shield's energy reserves a lot quicker than I did alone."

And so they did. The droid crumbled to the ground within seconds instead of minutes this time, and Ruvena sighed, relieved.

"And now for the magic trick with the datapad, again."

It worked exactly the same.

INTERROGATIVE: IDENTIFY THE THREE PRIMARY LIFE-GIVING SEED WORLD TYPES
OCEANIC
GRASSLAND
DESERT
VOLCANIC
ARBOREAL
BARREN

"Jup, idiots. Dumb, hulking brutes."

Bastila giggled as she put in oceanic, grassland and arboreal. The console hummed.

PLANETARY TYPE CONDUCIVE TO LIFE
BREAKING LIFE SEAL

The clicking was followed by a rumbling sound this time. When they returned to the central chamber, the door behind the droid was open as well.

A mechanism unfolded when they entered the room, revealing the Star Map to illuminate the cavern bright blue.

"Huh. And what now? The map is here, just like in our dreams."

"Now we see where it leads. Look, there are several planets highlighted. Is the console compatible with your datapad the same way the others were?"

"Looks like it. Good, we can load the data into the holomap on the Ebon Hawk and see which planets those are."

"And then we'll go there and hope for convenient dreams that lead the way?"

"I hope that won't be necessary. Revan and Malak found the Star Maps without some sort of vision-memory-guide. We should be able to trace their steps without Revan's involutary help."

"Yes, but Revan and Malak were both trained Lore Keepers of the Order, and Revan was, among other things, an anthropologist with a fondness for archaeology and old Force-using societies. In retrospect, it is no surprise he fell. Exar-Kun was similar."

The ships navigation computer was programmed to accept and integrate datapads into its map, and it was quick to do so with the information they had retrieved from the Star Map.

"There are some unknown planets here, with incomplete coordinates or no matching coordinates in our records. But there are some matches. Dantooine. Korriban. Manaan. Tatooine. And Kashyyyk. Looks like we have our course plotted. Where do we want to go first?"

"Korriban is closest, but also in the middle of the Sith Empire, and thus both the hardest to reach and the most dangerous. We should save that for last. The other three neutral planets. Tatooine's Map is probably in the desert, but the planet is farthest out. Kashyyyk is second closest, but the shadowlands are no cakewalk either. And Manaan's Map is propably on the planet surface too, which means on the bottom of the ocean. But the Selkath enforce the neutrality of their planet strictly."

"So, Manaan, Kashyyyk, Tatooine and Korriban last?"

Vima nodded in assent.

"When I spoke to the Council, they agreed to have Carth assigned to me for the time of this mission as pilot for the Ebon Hawk. Officially, it will be my mission, because I hold an officers rank within the Republic, and you do not, but de facto leadership will fall to both of us as we both know equally well where this is going. Your brother will not let us leave without him even if we tried. His presence will help keep our travels inconspicious. The same goes for Mission, if she wants to join us. He skills might come in handy and Canderous promised her an adventure."

"What about Trask? A ship needs her mechanic."

"You can ask him, and if he wants, I can arrange for his clandestine reassignment. To be honest, I arranged for his and Carth's extended downtime here for the time of your training because of that."

"Well, let's go then. We have things to plan, a ship to prep and a hunting trip to squeeze in before we take off for Manaan."

"Isn't it enough that I fought against the Mandalorians for a decade, now I have to put up with two of them for this super-secret super-important mission? Weren't you all banished to Mandalore?"

Carth was not happy about a third of the crew for his ship, and not too shy to show it. And it was his ship, thank-you-very-much, he was her pilot after all.

"Actually," Canderous pitched in, "the first and so far last command of the new Mandalore after Revan slew Mandalore the Ultimate was 'Go home and think about what you have done to yourselves. You will leave your weapons and armors behind, I don't want you getting ideas while you're bored. I will deal with you when I have time to sort out this mess.' Then the Jedi disappeared for a few months, and when they returned, Revan was Mandalore no longer, but different. The clans would still have followed into glorious battle, but the call never came. Probably for the better, for your sake, Republic. I did my fair share of self-reflection, and so has my sister. Maybe so should you, and let go of your irrational hate."

Ruvena was uncertain what set Carth off, her brother's statement or his smirk, but he launched into a lecture.

"My irrational hate? Are you even listening to yourself? May I remind you who decided to take out their inferiority complex on others? Slaughter millions of innocents? And not to forget, who started the recent trend of glassing planets into submission? Malak sure learned a lot from you."

"I was elsewhere when Serocco was razed, but I never agreed with Cassus Fett's battle tactics. There is no honour in fighting the enemy from afar, no skill in attacking in greater numbers. I never defied Mandalores call, but I did not revel in senseless slaughter either, especially after what happened on Cathar. There is a reason why Revan and I never faced each other in battle, and it is not coincidence."

"What do you mean? Revan fought for the Republic, of course you were lucky not to have fought directly against him!"

"You didn't notice? You fought side by side with the Jedi, under Revan's command, and you did not notice? Revan did not fight fight for your precious Republic. Revan fought for the people of the Republic. And Revan never fought against the Mandalorians as a whole. Come, we need a map, and I will show you."

Carth was confused, but intrigued, and so they gathered around the map in the main hold. Canderous put in sets of commands to turn sections of the map to different colours, and began to explain.

"Look. You see in red your precious Republic front as it was for most of the war. I marked in purple the battles that Revan personally commanded. Yellow are the battles Cassus Fett commanded. He was the one that was behind the massacre at Cathar and the bombing of Serrocco, among others. See how yellow and purple almost always encounter each other? The green are battles where I was in command. They are fewer in number, because I only led a smaller unit within Clan Ordo for most of the war, and most were not as memorable as Fett's bloodbaths. But you may remember the first Battle of Althir. That earned me the respect necessary to command more than close family, although I often chose not to."

Carth remembered the battles of Althir, although he had not participated in all of them. The first of them had taken place even before the massacre on Cathar, and the contrast had been jarring. A small contingent of Basilisk war droids and Mandalorian war ships had outmanoevered the Althiri Defense Fleet through sheer ingenuity without resorting to the sort of deplorable strategy that had made Cathar so sickening. Involutarily, his esteem of the Mandalorian rose.

"So you want to tell me that Revan had a personal vendetta against Cassus Fett?"

"No, I just showed you that Revan fought against those Mandalorian generals that waged slaughter insead of war."

Point made, Canderous turned to leave for the swoop garage.

"Wait. You said Revan was Mandalore after he killed the last one. Doesn't one have to be Mandalorian to have a claim on the position?" Trask questioned.

"Exactly."

The crew, sans Canderous, looked at each other across the map, wondering what he had meant with that last statement. When they later questioned Vima, she just covered her face in desperation and gave no comprehensible answer, either.

They managed to get everyone together for a trip to the lake, although some were a lot more enthusiastic than others. It was even closer than Bastila remembered and they were quick to set up their tents and sprawl out on the beach. Vima had declared the trip a group bonding exercise before their mission began in earnest. To Canderous and Ruvena, it was a last chance to be carefree and unarmored before returning to their warrior's mindset and armor in addition to the hunting and fishing they had planned. For Carth and Trask, it was an excercise in letting go of their soldier's attitude, for betraying that allegiance could prove fatal in the weeks to come. Mission was just content to enjoy the nature and freedom she was still unaccustomed to.

"Last one in the water is a rotting Rakghoul!", she announced as she stripped out of her clothes and ran into the water.

Ruvena and Canderous returned to the campsite early in the afternoon, carrying a cut-up iriaz that they suspended from a wooden frame they had prepared beforehand.

"Fishing now or can we take a break and go swimming first?"

"First we take a dip. Then we eat. And then, we will fish."

Said others were playing a game at the end of the pier that involved tossing a ball back and forth while dunking seemingly random people under water. The siblings decided to add to the fun by jumping right in the middle of it with enough momentum to splash everyone.

"Hey! Not fair. I was winning."

Missions whining was drowned in both senses of the word by Bastila, who joined the water fight with enthusiasm.

"You were? I didn't notice."

"You don't count, Vima is helping you hold your breath longer, that's cheating!"

"Actually, that was all me. I have been diving in this lake more times than I can count. Which means that I win."

Bastila's snotty retort lost all affected gravity when she was dunked just after finishing her sentence.

"Having fun, kids?"

Canderous was towering over his newly drenched victim, grinning.

"Who're you calling kid?"

Missions retort was more automatic than deliberate, and Canderous laughed.

"Actually, all of you."

"Feeling better for it, old man?"

"Of course."

"Come on, it's time for food."

Ruvena was almost sorry to interrupt them, but especially Carth threw her a thankful look. He was woefully unprepared for the tag-team of Mission and Bastila drawing him into their games.

Canderous supervised the cooking with an eagle eye. Everyone was assigned an ingredient to slice, chop or dice according to his precise instructions while he prepared campfire and kettle for cooking. Once the stew was prepared and bubbling over the fire, his helpers sat down around the fire while he ground up another spice blend.

"My memories don't do you justice." Ruvena was leaning over his shoulder, inhaling deeply. "Your cooking smells better than I remember."

"There are many things you don't remember, vod'ika. Have a taste, tell me if it's right."

She stuck her finger into the mortar and licked the spices off it.

"Tastes like home. I've always wondered how you pull that off no matter where we are. You still won't tell me, will you?"

"Wouldn't do you any good. Your cooking almost made ba'buir cry, and he doesn't have tear ducts! But don't worry, I'll be a good uncle and teach your children. If they don't inherit your talent for culinary disaster."

They bantered while spreading out two nets between poles they stuck into the ground, cutting the iriaz meat into thin strips they covered with the spices and spread out on the lower net to dry.

"Now we only need to wait. Should be done by tomorrow evening if it stays this warm and sunny. The stew on the other hand should be done by now."

After she declared the stew fit for eating with a nod, Canderous filled and distributed the bowls.

"It's a bit boring by Mandalorian standards, but we wanted to share with you." He explained with a wink.

"If this is boring, I don't want to taste what interesting Mandalorian food tastes like."

Trask's eyes were watering from the spices, as were Carth's and Mission's. Only Bastila did not seem bothered by them. Her eyes flashed green when she winked.

"Spicy, sour, or very sweet. Sometimes several at once. Very intense. And never accept an offering of food from a Mandalorian you don't know, it might be poisonous."

"Do you people habitually poison your food, or only for special occasions?"

"Neither. But most born Mandalorians can eat and digest things that are in the best case considered inedible and in the worst case poisonous to baseline humans. And most Mandalorians don't learn that as thoroughly as we both have."

When his explanation was met with confused stares, he clarified further.

"Ba'buir Nauraim taught us to cook. His wife, grandmother Daleena was human. He was a most insistent teacher."

Vima was the first to snap out of the stupor that revelation had put them in.

"I thought you were human."

"Most human-looking Mandalorians are about half-human, at best, except for recruited and adopted ones. The differences are minor in all but first-gens as human appearance tends to be dominant. You never wondered why all Mandalorians were so damn tall? I think that was the first thing I was asked when I became a mercenary. Every single time."

Canderous was taller than most human males, but not extraordinarily so. Ruvena on the other hand was taller than the average human men, which was rare in a woman.

"Well, why are you?"

"We are the legacy of the Taung. In our culture and our blood, we carry forth their greatness."

Ruvena's grin made it obvious that Canderous had just quoted someone. 

The two-day trip had been a rousing success. They returned to the Ebon Hawk with bags full of iriaz jerky, smoked fish and the kind of ease between them that could only be achieved through battle and apparently also a short vacation filled with all kinds of nonsensical fun interspersed with more or less profound conversations. They had learned that Mission was terrified of the larger fish she had spotted in the deeper water of the lake. She also had an older brother who had abandoned her on Taris half a decade ago. Trask revealed himself as an idealist in pessimist's armor, a trait he claimed to have acquired due to multitudes of cousins that liked to annoy him. The fact that he was actually a noble from Alderaan who simply enjoyed the anonymity of 'slumming it' with the regular troops, they had to worm out of him. Vima had many anecdotes to tell about conferences and meetings she had accompanied the elder Sunrider's to, and the people she met there. Bastila exposed herself as a closet card shark on the second evening, trouncing even the self-declared pazaak-champion of Taris, Mission. Even Carth opened up to them, telling them of his wife and son, who had died in the razing of Telos IV shortly after Revan and Malak had declared their Sith Empire and war on the Republic.

Chapter Text

Canderous insisted they make a slight detour to Dxun to pick up some important things before going to Manaan. He refused to tell them exactly where they were going and what he intended to pick up, and demanded to pilot the landing himself, repeating only that their destination was a secret and that he did not want to spoil the surprise. He landed the Ebon Hawk next to an overgrown mound in the middle of the jungle that turned out to be an old and abandoned bunker left over from the Mandalorian occupation of the moon. A hidden keypad seemed to be only thing not covered in plants. He put in a code and blast doors parted before them with typical hiss of airtight locks unsealing.

"Follow me, don't touch anything, and don't wander off. I haven't been here in quite some time, but the traps should still be operational and deadly. Don't pretend to be surprised, Republic. What's the point of a secret and secure stash if anyone can just wander in, and worse, wander out again still alive?"

The secret stash turned out to be mostly boring. A few storage crates were stacked along the wall of the hangar, and in the middle, barely visible in the faint glow of Vima's and Ruvena's lightsaber was a huge silhouette that looked like a large sleeping animal.

"How did that come in here and survive, if you haven't been here for so long?"

Carth sounded worried and watched, gaping, when Ruvena ambled over and cooed at it while petting it.

"I have missed you, besh'la. Are you all right?"

It came to life with an ominous rumble that proved their observations false. It was not a sleeping beast. It was a deactivated beast. The Basilisk war droid stood to attention in a pose that was reminiscent of an excited puppy, but looked all the more threatening for its size.

"Think you can light up for me?"

The droid rumbled and bright floodlights lit up the entire room. It was in fact empty except for the crates in one corner and the droid.

"Let's just load all crates on besh'la and take it all with us. I don't know which crates hold what I am looking for and sorting through it all might take days. The other things may come in useful too, and I'll have to move this stash anyway now that you have seen it."

He picked up a crate and carried it over to the droid. It had a little flat space just behind the seat, enough for two of the crates next to each other. Ruvena and Vima helped levitate them up and the droid was loaded up and ready to go in no time.
"Now what? The corridors are to small for that... thing."

It was obvious from his tone that Carth had to hold himself back from saying monster. She could understand his dislike, he had been already been a soldier during the wars and probably saw a number of comrades killed by bes'uliik, but his constant antagonistic attitude was annoying her.

"Now we open the hangar."

Canderous strode past them to a small terminal at the back wall of the room and typed in another code. The entire back wall split apart and revealed itself to be a pair of blast doors. They were closer to their ship than they had thought, but the path had been at least partially cirular. The war droid floated obediently behind Ruvena into the hangar of the Ebon Hawk where they unloaded it again and she deactivated it.

His main objective for visiting Dxun had obviously been Ruvena's armor. Her Republic armor had been badly damaged during her trip to the ruins on Dantooine, and Canderous had been determined that she replace them with proper armor. With proper, he meant the full beskar suit of armor that he had dug out of a crate and shoved into her hands first thing after they had returned to the ship, sending her off to put it on.

"Wouldn't a different colour be more prudent?" Trask asked when she returned to the main hold. When she tilted her head quizzically, he elaborated. "It's just, these colours are associated with the Sith, especially Revan's Sith. You might want to avoid that."

"I refuse to let them take this from me. Armor colours are important. I don't remember crafting this set, but I remember wearing armor of red and black. Black for justice, red for honour and the clan. This one has copper and bronze for balance, peace and home. It has fitting colours for me, and fitting colours for this mission, and I will not change them to respect Republic sensibilities!"

Trask backed when he noticed that he was being glared at by two furious Mandalorians, their stare made all the more threatening by the fact that he could not see their eyes behind the T-shaped visors, but still sense the warning from their posture alone. It was only then that he noticed that Canderous had repainted his armor from grey to black with red as well.

"Nobody will confuse a Mandalorian for a Sith, no matter the colour of their armor. But that it is probably the reason no one suggested you wear Jedi robes. Those Jedi that promote the idea of uniform clothing styles are at the same time those that are most leery of any tie to the Sith. Darth Revan wore armor with black robes after all. Many people forget that the Sith were not the first to combine robes with armor, although many Jedi abstain from this practice nowadays or choose alternate designs as I did."

Manaan was boring the way all ocean planets were. The native Selkath were an aquatic species that still lived in the ocean and the only spaceport, Ahto City, was a sterile thing built only for one purpose, to trade with offworlders. Carth, as nominal Captain of the ship, went off to deal with the port authorities accompanied by Trask, while Bastila, who looked similar enough to him to fool casual onlookers, posed as his niece and bossed the rest of the crew around. They had all deemed it more prudent to adopt the air of free traders and let others come to their own conclusions instead of broadcasting some sort of cover, much less their real mission. They had found enough credits, merchandise and contraband on the ship to make the story plausible.

Vima set out to scout the city and find things they could buy, both to sustain their ruse and to stock up on supplies that could prove useful later on. Ruvena and Canderous trailed after her, carrying empty crates. While raw kolto was only traded between the Selkath and the Republic and Sith governement directly and in bulk, processed kolto in form of injections, bandages and patches was still cheaper than elsewhere. Three filled crates later, she lead them back to the ship.

"We need to find a way to the seabed to search for the star map."

"That's going to be difficult. The Selkath have pretty strict rules for offworlders, to enforce their neutrality. No kolto smuggling, no violence, no leaving Ahto City."

Carth's summary was met with a defeated sigh from all but Ruvena.

"My armor is made in the old style, able to withstand the vacuum of space. I should be able to go deep sea diving in it as well, with a few modifications. The problem would be air supply, the main air tanks were always part of the Basilisk, and the small individual tanks are only enough for a few hours at most."

"But you'd still face problems for leaving the City illegally once you return to the surface."

Now it was Ruvena's turn to sigh, having run out of ideas as well.

"But, you have a Basilisk droid? Wasn't that the type of droid we picked up on Dxun? It could take some work to make her? seaworthy, but it should work. And since we already know that she is capable of spaceflight, we will just wait in orbit with the Ebon Hawk and be gone before anyone manages to make the connection."

"Mish, you're brilliant."

In the end, there were fewer modifications necessary than anticipated. Both droid and armor were mostly made of the near-indestructible Mandalorian Iron and in top condition in spite of the time they had spent in storage on humid Dxun. The next morning, Ruvena strapped into her armor under the watchful eyes of Canderous, who insisted on double-checking every seal and joint.

"I wish you didn't have to go alone. Who knows what awaits you down there."

"I really hope it's only fish and water. I won't have weapons."

The only major modification had been to seal the armorplates of besh'la so no water could get it and damage the weapons and circuits hidden within the metal beast. This also meant that the weapons integrated in the droid were not useable. Likewise, Ruvena would leave her weapons on the Ebon Hawk because they would only short-circuit in the water anyway.

"I can do something about that. We put away a lot of things over time. There should be some good old-fashioned stuff as well."

They did find a heavy beskad and a lighter, more elegant Echani brand. Ruvena took both.

"You will be allright. Our visions showed only empty ocean around the Star Map. Everything will be fine."

Vima's attempt at an encouraging speech only served to betray her own anxiety.

"I have comms in the helmet, but I don't know if the connection will be stable while I'm underwater. I will contact you when it is time to open the hangar and let me in."

Ruvena left for the hangar to prepare her droid for takeoff while the others went to the cockpit to help Carth with pre-flight checks and wrangling with flight control to have their scheduled takeoff authorized without further delay.

The underwater world of Manaan was beautiful in its tranquility. Swarms of fish swan past her as she slowly sank to the ocean bed. She thought it more prudent not to use her droids engines as long as it was not necessary. Walking along the seabed would bring her to her destination just as well without disturbing and potentially drawing the ire of the local fauna. As she dived lower, the swarms of small fish were replaced by larger fish and it grew darker.

=Light up, Iron Beauty.=

The floodlights gave her enough sight to navigate around larger rocks and growing coral reefs that she did not want to damage. She could feel the Star Map nearby.

§you are not welcome§

Sudden dread filled her. She should not have come. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Where had that come from?

§you come disturb destroy you are not welcome§

But she had not done anything. Yet. She only wanted to find the Star Map and leave. She only wanted to help people, not destroy anything.

§you will leave you are not welcome§

A giant shark-fish-wateranimal-thing passed by her too close for comfort. From the small ridge they had climbed, she could see the Star Map on the other side of a rift. The rift was overshadowed by some sort of large machinery that was swarmed by frenzied smaller shark-fish-wateranimal-things.

=Humans installed this machine and it is disturbing the natural balance down here. Is that why you want me gone?=

It felt weird, talking with a giant fish, but she also talked to starships and semi-sentient droids, it was not that much of a stretch to assume sentience in that creature as well.

§restore peace save my children leave?§

The dread that had been clawing at her subconcious abated so suddenly she slumped in relief.

=I will destroy this machine and leave. I only need to take a look at the Star Map. I won't harm you or your children.=

The creature swam by her again, but this time it felt more like an overprotective mother assessing a new playmate her children brought home.

§you may pass§

The machine turned out to be a kolto harvester. It was built halfway over the rift, which seemed to be both a source of kolto and the habitat of the fish. It was surprisingly straightforward to make the whole complex explode. But then again, at this depth nobody would expect sabotage, and the self-destruct emergency-systems were barely secured as a result.

§relief gratitude farewell§

The animals calmed down and Ruvena continued on to the Star Map. Just like on Dantooine, the tripod unfolded when she approached it. She copied the data quickly, eager to return to the surface.

Returning to the Ebon Hawk was easy after that. Besh'la pushed off the seabed with force and Ruvena engaged the engines when they were far enough from the corals and fish that dwelled on the ocean floor. Reaching orbit was only a matter of time. Thankfully, the water had dripped off and evaporated during her ascent, or they would be covered in ice- and salt-crystals.

"Besh'la to Ebon Hawk, open up."

Chapter Text

Ruvena spent the first few hours after returning to the Ebon Hawk cleaning salty residues off her armor and droid, returning them to their original state and grumbling about the stupid idea to go diving in the first place. She knew it had been the fastest and most reasonable way to reach the star map, but that did not make her any happier about the tedious cleaning she was now saddled with.

"Are you done yet? We will be there soon. And don't talk down my brilliant idea. You called it brilliant yourself!"

Mission's announcement was a welcome interruption.

"I thought the idea was brilliant, until I had to clean up after it. And as soon as I'm done, I'll be able to appreciate your genius again, Mish, don't worry."

She cleared away the tools and put on her armor in preparation for planetfall. She had not needed it on Manaan before her dive, but it was always better to be prepared. She had even managed to hide her lightsabers at the sides of her jetpack. As long as she did not have to fight an enemy that would make their use necessary, no one would recognize her as Jedi.

She was grateful that Carth was piloting the Ebon Hawk when they stepped out of the ship and she saw where they had landed. It was a small landing platform nestled between three giant tree trunks, barely big enough for the Ebon Hawk to stand on, much less land comfortably, but he had succeded with ease.

They were immediately accosted by an overeager official who introduced himself as an employee of Czerka Corporation and demanded a landing fee while advertising the services they would be provided in return. Carth's distrust was understandable, the Czerka employee had a slimy presence and Ruvena could feel his greed radiate.

"I brought my own guards and my own translator. Half the fee should be appropriate for half the service."

Flanked Ruvena and Canderous, he did not even have to look menacing. His offer was accepted immediately, and he gestured to Mission to lock up the Ebon Hawk and prepare the ship for their absence.

"We need passage into the Shadowlands."

"Of course, kind sir. Czerka Cooperation has an agreement with the local Wookiee chieftain that leaves access to the lower regions mostly at his discretion. I will arrange a meeting for you. If you would just follow the Great Walkway to the village?"

The bootlicker was eager to get rid of them, but they had no other choice to follow his directions and hope for the best.

The Wookiee chieftain had an aura just as mired as the Czerka guards he surrounded himself with. The tension in the room was tangible. None of the Wookiees present held more than superficial respect for their chieftain, who seemed to hold on to his position more by the force of his Czerka allies than any influence of his own.

<Come forward and speak with mighty and wise Chuundar. I rarely allow visitors of your kind.>

Ruvena was glad her helmet hid the grin she developed at the Wookiee's posturing. She translated his words for those who did not understand Shyriiwook, carefully editing as to not make the others laugh as well.

"We want to go into the Shadowlands. I was told to speak with you about that."

Chuundar made a show of deliberating the matter before he answered.

<I will let you pass into the Shadowlands, if you complete a small task for me. There is a crazed Wookiee down there, a madclaw that was banished. He has been harassing my allies. I want you to take care of him.>

"We will keep on the lookout, but we will not stay longer than necessary to conclude our business just because this madclaw doesn't show."

The Wookiee growled, displeased that Carth would not accept the task unconditionally, but one of the Czerka guards whispered something to him that made him change his mind.

<You may go. Gorwooken will show you the way.>

He waved at another Wookiee, who growled in acceptance and led them out onto the walkway and to a wooden lift.

<I will let you down now. You will have to return with a hunting party or a Czerka group, they travel up regularly in the evening.>

The Wookiees gruff tone made clear that he would not answer any questions they may have, and they shuffled onto the platform and descended into darkness.

The Shadowlands lived up to their name. It was dark and the giant wroshyr tree trunks seemed to swallow all light. Even their lightsabers and the additional glowsticks Carth and Mission carried did little to illuminate their surroundings. However, there were big-leafed shrubs growing between the tree trunks with bioluminescent patterns on the leaves, which allowed them to evade the biggest obstacles that stood in their way. Animals of various sizes rustled through the underbrush, roused by their passage. Some of them were also glowing faintly in the darkness.

In the distance, there was a brighter light shining. It was difficult to discern where it originated. Only when she got closer did she realize that it was a green lightsaber, swung expertly to hold off a pack of predators. Ruvena leapt forwards in a blur of orange and purple, intent on assisting the outnumbered Jedi. The katarn flinched, backing away from the bright light, but could not evade the whirlwind of blades she unleashed upon them. The wounded animals finally retreated into the shadows.

"Decided to help an old man out?"

It was difficult to discern if he was grateful or annoyed at her. It was probably a mixture of both.

"We could have stood by and watched, but I couldn't let you have all the fun on your own."

He grumbled something under his breath, having seen through her obvious ploy at defusing the tension.

"Follow me. This is no place to hold a decent conversation and I would very much like to know what brings two Jedi, two Mandalorians, three Republic soldiers and a Twi'lek youngster to this back-end of the galaxy."

How he had recognized all of them for all of what they were, she had no idea. No Jedi had mentioned such an ability during her training, and Vima seemed to be just as clueless as she was. He did not wait for her reaction as he turned away and lead on through the underbrush and she hurried to follow. It was unwise to antagonize anyone down here unnecessarily, and the Jedi may yet prove helpful, even if his insight was unsettling.

She almost did not notice when they arrived at their destination. It was a cozy home, carved into the branch of a tree that ran along the ground, invisible from the outside except for the entrance. Inside, it consisted of one large room with something resembling a kitchen in one corner, a single door across from it, and a lot of wood furniture stacked along the walls.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I made those myself. Lots of time down here, and nothing much to do." He gestured to the carved wooden stools that were stacked in a corner. "I am Jolee. Who are you, and what is your purpose here?"

He sat down to watch Ruvena, singling her out as the leader of the group, though how, she did not know. She took off her helmet to greet him while the others arranged the stools in a half circle opposite to Jolee.

"I am Ruvena of Ordo. This is my brother Canderous, Vima and her host Bastila, Carth, Trask and Mission. We are looking for an old Force artifact. Maybe you can help us."

Carth made a protesting noise, as if to prevent her from telling the strange Jedi any more about their secret task, but Vima nodded along, having come to the same conclusion as her: This Jedi was both too isolated to be a threat, too insightful to be lied to, and he may yet help them if she was truthful with him.

"I think I know what you are talking about. I can show you the way tomorrow, it's quite a way away. We wouldn't make it there and back before nightfall, and while the Shadowlands don't get much darker at night, the nighthunters are more dangerous than a pack of katarn."

He rose to putter about in the kitchen and returned with a small tray of glasses and a large bottle.

"My best moonshine. Drink up, and tell me what has been happening in the wide galaxy. News are slow on Kashyyyk, and I don't get many visitors."

That night, she dreamt of Cathar. She had known, intellectually, what had happened. That it had been the official beginning of what had later been dubbed 'The Mandalorian War' by historians. But to remember it herself so vividly, and from both perspectives, was different. She awoke to a suffocating feeling of shame and regret.

#I am so sorry for what I put you through, Ruvena.#

#Revan?#

#Yes.#

It was only the resurfaced memories, the certainty that she had willingly become a host and willingly stayed one, that kept her from panicking there and then. The jarring certainty that she would have felt differently just the day before was unsettling.

#What happened?#

#We won the war. After that, something happened. I am not sure what changed, but the next thing I remember is me conquering the Republic. The Jedi strike team that was sent to capture or kill us must have knocked me out, and I healed enough while I slept to enter a healing trance. They must have thought me dead and you my victim, or the Jedi would never have let you go. That complicates things for me. We should meditate together, and get used to each other again. Both our minds can benefit from that, and our fragmented memories should mend easier. We need those memories.#

Meditating together was easier than she expected. After the difficulties she had had at first with meditating in unison with Vima, she had expected something similar with Revan. His gentle instructions felt familiar, and she realized that they were. He had taught her the same way the first time, a few days after their blending.

The next to rise was Canderous, which was just as well. They had realized several things that made a lot more sense in hindsight and wanted to discuss those. They could hear him rustle around, trying to be quiet as to not wake the others. When he came out of the hut, Revan opened eyes of pure white. Canderous did not even have the decency to pretend surprise.

=It is good to see you restored.=

=You knew the whole time and have only been waiting for me to awake, did you not? Your sister wishes to speak with you.=

That was an understatement if she had ever heard one. She was furious.

=Why didn't you tell me?=

=Would you have believed me?=

And with that question, her fury evaporated.

=No, you are right. This at least explains better than Vima's excuse why the Jedi were so anxious to pull you aside and talk to you.=

Canderous grinned.

=Yes, the Jedi Council. They were quite anxious to have me go along with their ruse. They thought to have killed Revan and wanted to use you to access his memories. Wipe your mind, give you a new personality that will go along with their schemes without questioning them.=

=You mean, my amnesia, that was the Jedi 's fault?=

=At least partially, yes. They told me you were badly hurt from the battle and your time as host and that that had caused serious brain damage and at least partial amnesia and they only helped that along because they wanted to give you a fresh start. I had known from the moment that we met on Taris that you were my sister, and that he was still with you, but you were recovering your memories on your own. I thought it wiser to let the Jedi believe what they wanted, let you heal in your own pace and see for myself how their plan collapses like a house of cards.=

Revan asked for control with barely restrained fury.

=They thought I would to that to her? Imbeciles. Empty headed useless fools. Even when I thought it was a good idea to create an Empire and wage war against the Republic, I never hurt Ruvena. I may not have listened to her, but would never intentionally harm my host.=

"Try that again, a little louder, and you'll wake up the others too."

How Jolee had approached without any of them noticing was as baffling as his nonchalant acceptance when he saw Revan's eyes.

"You of all people should appreciate the need to keep a low profile, especially now."

"You knew. Did you recognize me? I do not remember you, but my memories are fragmented at best."

"I saw you the last time you were here, but we didn't meet. I had the good sense to keep away from you morons. I have never seen two Jedi more power-mad and drunk on the Dark Side, and I witnessed Exar Kun and his posse revive the Sith order. You're welcome by the way."

"For what?"

"The tea I gave you was a potent restorative. It has accelerated your healing process, or we would not be talking yet."

"Thank you. Will you tell the others?"

"Why should I tell them now, after I healed you, when I could have done so yesterday? The soldiers and the girl are oblivious. Maybe even both girls. Not all Jedi are truthful with their hosts, although it tends to be frowned upon."

"The Jedi think I am dead. Why would any of them keep silent about it?"

#Because silence is easier than explanations. And you really are too polite for your own good. Assume my face and my voice. Please, stay hidden, for both of our sakes.#

"I stopped trying to make sense of the Council a long time ago."

"Then you are wiser than I."

The old hermit grumbled under his breath instead of answering and wandered off into the surrounding darkness, effectively ending the conversation. Canderous did not have anything to add either, and so Ruvena and Revan sank back into light meditation.

#It will take some time to reestablish the connection we shared. Furthermore, many of my own memories are just as obscured as yours are to me right now. In the meantime, will you let me take a look at your lightsabers?#

She plucked the weapons from where they were hidden and lay them down in her lap. Instead of inspecting them visually as she had expected, Revan closed their eyes and picked up the saber hilts with the Force, sensing the design in its entirety.

#They are well made. I could barely have done better. Let me just...#

She could feel him push and move the focusing mechanisms by tiny increments. There was a finesse in his work that required decades of practice and a finer touch with the Force than she had accomplished.

#Now they are perfect. And you felt me? That is most unusual. It may be a sign that our recent adventure has made us both stronger, and all the more powerful when working together. I will look into it.#

She sensed his need to hole himself up in a library with a stack of datapads and holocrons to research their problems away. For a moment, she was tempted to join him.

#Soon. The Maps should not take too long with my help. And once this is over, I can find us a nice archive to hide in.#

#Why must you be so reasonable when I want to daydream?#

#Because we have work to do and you can dream all you want after that. Speaking of which, Canderous picked up our complete stash on Dxun, not only the spare armor, did he not? There are some things in there that might prove useful for all of us.#

#What did you store there?#

#The Mask of Mandalore, among other things.#

She could only imagine the expressions her companions would wear, should she incorporate that Mask into her armor. Would they even recognize its significance?

#Maybe later, once we know how much has been kept from you, and we have convinced them of  my convalescence.#

#You are a snoop.#

#I can not let you have all the fun by yourself, especially now that I have to stay hidden.#

She refused to favor that with a verbal response and only projected the image of patting his fins condescendingly.

#But I was actually thinking about other things of more immediate value that should be in those crates. We should take a look once we are back at the ship.#

After breakfast, Jolee led them to the Star Map. It was a meandering journey, evading both packs of woodland predators and groups of Czerka goons that were wandering the forest, as Jolee explained. Ruvena felt Revan's quiet content in the back of her mind, satisfied that they were making progress.

"You were looking for this, were you not?"

They had been travelling atop the broader wroshyr branches for some time. Below, on the very floor of the forest, lay the triangular mechanism of the Star Map. It was deactivated and dark, but outlined in glowing lichen in a perfect circle, shining on the device, as if the plants themselves shied from the Dark Side infused machinery.

"Yes. It looks exactly like the others. I hope it works the same, as well."

She climbed down, careful not to draw too much attention to her hesitation. How would the Star Map react? Revan knew they had tinkered and tempered with the Star Map on Kashyyyk, all four of them. The remote location and the dark shelter of the forest had allowed for a prolonged stay to experiment on the ancient and strange technology, and learn as much about it as was possible. He knew not at which point the experiments had ended, or in which condition the Star Map had been left behind. They just hoped it would not end badly. Given that their ultimate destination was known, a damaged or inaccessible Star Map would be in fact better than one that greeted them enthusiastically as Lord Revan, or whatever nonsense they had thought funny at the time.

Unlike the other two, this Star Map did not unfold as she approached. Instead, an adjacent holo terminal flickered to life, coalescing into the silhouette of, well, her. Attired in the lavish ceremonial robes of a master archivist, the shadows of shawl and hood rendered her unrecognizable to anyone but closest friends.

"Greetings, Master Jedi. I am Gatekeeper. You have much to learn, young one. I will determine your eligibility for my teachings."

"A brilliant imitation of an ancient holocron, if I might say so. Just as obstinate as those in the Temple archives, but ten times as annoying. She asks terrible riddles to restrict access, and I have yet to succeed in solving any of them."

She ignored Jolee's grumblings behind her even as Vima shushed him, kneeling down before the hologram.

"I surrender myself to your judgement, Gatekeeper."

“Travelling in pairs, you have been captured and separated. You stand accused of treason and sedition, for which you will both serve ten years in prison if convicted. If you both remain silent, lack of evidence will see your prison term reduced to one year. How would you respond, and what do you expect your partner to do?”

“We both accuse the court of corruption, misuse of power and falsifying evidence. We walk free.”

“That is correct. Next question: In war, your subordinates have succeeded in intercepting an enemy missive. You learn that they plan to attack a vital outpost of yours in five days time, and that their defense for the supply convoy in ten days has weak points they have overlooked. How does this information affect your strategies?”

“Not at all. I am already prepared.”

“That is correct. Next question: You have acquired secret and forbidden knowledge that can save the lives of billions of people. However, if it is traced back to you, you face a death sentence. How do you proceed?”

“I change the rules and bask in the adoration of the masses.”

"That is correct. Access granted."

Gatekeeper bowed, and its holographic presence flickered off. In the background, she could hear Bastila mutter that the answers made no sense. Finally, the central prong of the Star Map unfolded and the glittering stars rose up from its darkness. Ruvena hurried to transfer the data, loath to linger in the darkness any longer than necessary. She stood up and turned back to her companions, only to find Carth glaring at her.

"How do you do it? When I was briefed on this assignment, I was resigned to a long goose chase. Now, not even two weeks have passed and we are already halfway through. Additionally, since crashing on Taris, you have reunited with your long-lost brother, picked up a Twi'lek with improbable slicing skills and a Jedi hermit, all the while displaying skills no raw recruit should have. Not the mention the ambush on the Endar Spire."

"What are you getting at, Carth?"

#Oh, this should be fun.#

Revan projected a mental image of cracking their knuckles.

#I have wanted to have words with Fleet here since I saw your memories of him.#

#Quiet, you. Backseat driver.#

The familiar banter helped her focus on the matter at hand. She would be afraid of cracking up and betraying his presence if she did not remember how much experience they had with this sort of multi-tasking.

"I... I don't know!"

It was almost funny how clichéd his expression of exasperation was, throwing his hands in the air and rolling his eyes.

"It's just, I have been given almost no reasons to trust this, to trust you, but more than enough not to."

Her sense of irony and the chuckling of Revan demanded that she answered just as dramatically.

"Why? What have I done to you? I have been nothing but sincere. We have, as a team, made significant progress. We could not have done this without every single member of this crew, including you, and I refuse to believe that any one here has been giving less than their best."

#Are you trying to turn this into a team issue, or is it just me?#

#We can't work together if we can not rely on each other. We have learned this much. And I'm sick and tired of the suspicious glares he keeps drecting at us whenever he thinks no one is watching.#

"We will resolve this right here, right now. Tell me, Carth, what is your problem? Ask your questions and I will answer, for I refuse to let this fester any longer."

Her disarming advance seemed to unsettle Carth. He had obviously expected a different response. She had to smother a victorious grin. That would only set him off again, and she wanted to discuss the matter rationally. He needed a while to regain his bearings.

"You don't make sense. I read your service records. Even considering your Mandalorian upbringing, there is no way you have learned all those things in only twenty-six standard years."

This time, she did not smother her laughter.

"My service records claim I'm twenty-six? Wow. That's... hilarious, actually. I wonder where they found my name but not my age."

#I may have something to do with that. I filed the paperwork to register you as my host some time after Cathar, but only the bare minimum, your name and a contact to inform in case of your death, which was an encrypted communicator of your brother's. The Jedi probably pulled your name from there.#

"My age was a flattering guess when I enlisted, because I could not remember. I'd have to compare some historical records to figure out how old I actually am, but I know I am older than that."

"Why would you need historical records to figure out your age?"

"Because telling you that I was born thirty-four years after Te Kandosii Mand'alor took up Mask and Title would mean nothing to you. And having been out of touch with my people, I don't know how much time has passed since then, especially considering that the Republic Standard year differs from the Mandalorian calendar."

=The Indomitable was Mandalore for forty-four years. The Ultimate was Mandalore for thirty-nine years. He has been dead for two years. Congratulations to bisecting your first century, sister. You haven't aged a day.=

=Sorry, but not sorry.=

Revan's interjection was faint, but Canderous heard and nodded in acceptance.

"Huh. Alright. I'm older than I look. I'm even older than I thought."

She ran a hand through her hair, broadcasting her mental upheaval.

"That's going to take some time getting used to. I'll have to convert that to Galactic Standard eventually. But I doubt that's the last of your troubles. Carth?"

"If you are older than you look, it may be an explanation for your skills and your experience, and maybe even for the way authority seems to fall on you almost naturally. But that still doesn't explain how you can use the Force and be trained as a Jedi without being one."

She affected a bland expression and shrugged demonstratively. That was something she had wondered herself, before. The Jedi had not concieved a very convincing cover story, but at the time, she had been to excited to question it. Now she knew that it was Revan all along, there was nothing special about her.

#You are special to me. You are mine after all.#

"I don't know. The Jedi did not tell me, and I don't think they were that interested in finding out. To be honest, neither was I. Too busy being excited I guess. Maybe I have some Miralukan ancestry or something. The Jedi are not the only species that can use the Force, after all, even if they are the most eminent, and produce the most powerful Force-users. But your distrust has nothing to do with me personally, does it?"

She did not know if Revan had laced her question with a Force-suggestion or if Carth had just been waiting for the right question to voice his troubles, but his answer was surprisingly thorough.

"The Admiral of the Sith fleet, Saul Karath, was my mentor during the Mandalorian Wars. Everything I learned about being a soldier, I learned from him. He was a great leader and a loyal commander. If he could turn his back on us like that, who can we, who can I trust not to? I knew a lot of people during the War who are now Sith, military and Jedi alike, and they were all good people. Hell, I met Darth Malak once, before he became Darth Malak, and I liked him."

The last confession made Carth crumble visibly, and none of them knew how to respond to it. Revan on the other hand was amused.

#I remember that one. Marian came back from some meeting about some technological thing for the war, raving about this pilot he met and the starships they had discussed. I tuned him out after a while, but it was very cute. Especially since I had met Carth before. It was Korran who gave him the nickname 'Fleet'. But nobody outside those few who knew ever made the connection between Dorian and Revan, especially because Korran retreated to Tython to forget the war. Many people who do not have regular contact with Jedi forget that Jedi and host are not fused together for their lifetime.#

After a while, she decided to end the awkward silence.

"Will we go and try to find this mad Wookiee, or just leave? I want to get off this planet."

As if he had only been waiting for this question, Jolee pushed himself forward between Carth and Trask from where he had been waiting for their dispute to end.

"Did I hear you say something about a mad Wookiee? You're not looking for Freyyr, are you?"

He seemed almost unseemingly giddy at the prospect of helping them with their search, which led Revan to believe that he knew more than he was telling. Again.

"I don't know. Chuundar never told us a name, only to find a madclaw in the Shadowlands and kill it. Carth told him we would if we met, but we planned to just ignore his task and leave. He did not tell us the whole story and what he told sounded like an assassination, although he phrased it as pest control."

"That sounds like Chuundar. Freyyr is a threat to his claim on the chiefdom, but he is mad with grief. Years ago, when Czerka began enslaving the Wookiees, they made a deal with Chuundar. He would establish them as trading partners to the old chief, Freyyr, his father, and they would make him chief. His machinations saw his older brother, Zaalbar, defamed and exiled off planet, but Freyyr survived and remains a threat, especially now that the tribe has seen through Chuundar’s lies and grows discontent."

Mission had gasped when he mentioned Zaalbar, and covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide.

"Zaalbar is dead. He was my friend and he died to protect me from slavers when I was younger and more reckless. He had told me that he could never go home, but nothing more. I miss him."

Jolee put a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"You should tell his father that, kiddo."

"Why should we go looking for Freyyr if we don't want to kill him?  At least I assume we don't want to kill him anymore, if we ever wanted to?"

"I never planned to even find him. But we should tell him what happened to his son. Especially since we will be taking his only connection to the outside world with us."

The others stared at her.

"What? You should have realized by now that Jolee will be coming with us. He even locked up his hovel when we left."

Fortunately, they almost stumbled over Freyyr on their way back to the great lift. The former chieftain was indeed half mad, but with grief rather than rage. Jolee managed to calm his old friend and they relayed the sorrowful tale of his sons’ deeds and fate. There was little more they could do to help the despondent old Wookiee, and so they continued on after Jolee had passed on the keys to his home along with an invitation to move in for the duration of his absence. The rest of the journey passed quickly after that, which they all were grateful for. The encounter with Freyyr had left them all downcast and eager to leave.

The journey back up dragged on. They had to share the lift with an obnoxious group of Czerka-contracted hunters that were bragging and laughing about the pained shrieks of the Tach they had been hunting earlier. It was stomach-turning. They seemed to mistake Ruvena and her companions for another group of contracted hunters and were eager to share stories, only to be deterred by repeated and insistent pleas of exhaustion and failure. It was the only possible excuse, since they carried no visible burdens except for weapons and armor.

Chapter Text

Jolee had spread out his meager possessions in the medbay, or what part of it was still available after having been crammed full of kolto on Manaan. Various herbal tinctures had joined the more conventional supplies in the cabinets while the Jedi had rolled out a sleeping mat in one corner for himself. Ruvena went to check how he was settling in before joining Vima and Carth in the cockpit.

“Tatooine next?” he asked.

“Tatooine next,” she nodded. “Only two more maps, then we’ll know where we are going in the end.”

Carth acknowledged her confirmation and set to charting a course.

“We should all get some rest before we reach that miserable dustball. I’ll go first.”

Although they had all slept in Jolee’s hut, Ruvena was exhausted. Her sleep had been uninterrupted, but not very restful due to her dreams and returning memories. She craved sleep, both for the rest, and the healing it might bring, hopeful that more memories would be restored to her, and to Revan.

She did not dream that night, nor any night thereafter. Instead, she woke each morning with a renewed sense of self as returning memories filled in the gaps. Whatever concoction Jolee had given them was impressively effective. However, older fragments returned faster than newer ones, and the last few years still remained fragmented and mostly blank. It was a relief when she woke up one day before their scheduled arrival on Tatooine with a full recollection of the Mandalorian War and all the techniques and Force skills she had learned from Revan during that time.

#Total recall of recent events would be more useful for our scavenger hunt, but like this we are at least just as prepared for whatever obstacles we might encounter as we were the last time. Perhaps even better.#

#What do you mean?#

#Do you not sense it? I had not noticed the difference earlier because I lacked the frame of reference, but we are both Force-sensitive now. Something must have happened to cause this in the time we still can not recall. That gives us an incredible advantage none will expect.#

She had to tamp down on her elation then, mostly because she had no explanation for her good mood that would not reveal Revan’s presence to the others. She had not noticed before, because she had forgotten how close they had been along with the rest, but she had missed Revan’s clever running commentary ever since she woke up without her memories. It was good to have him back.

Carth landed the Ebon Hawk in the spaceport of Anchorhead with his usual flair. A gust of hot, arid air flooded she ship as the loading ramp unfolded unto the hot sand. A human male of ambiguous age scuttled over as they descended the ramp.

“Welcome to Tatooine, valued customer. Czerka Corporation stands ready to serve, after a few formalities of course. There is a onetime docking fee…”

She tuned out the smarmy Czerka employee in favor of Revan’s advice.

#We have been here before. I used you old name to throw off anyone who would attempt to retrace my steps.#

#Clever. You weren’t completely lost to madness, were you?#

#I was not. My priorities were merely skewed.#

“I have been here before, and I refuse to pay any fees a second time. Look for Runana Ordo in your records.”

Everyone but Canderous stared at Ruvena with differing degrees of stupefaction.

“What? You thought my parents named me something a ostentatious as ‘eternal defender’ when my brother only got to be a ‘formidable rock’? Nah, I was a simple 'defender' before that.”

“Why did you change your name?”

Vima obviously remembered their conversation on the importance of names.

“It felt right at the time.”

#Good misdirection. It will take some time until one of them remembers to ask when and why you were on Tatooine before.#

She led the others to a nearby cantina to sit and plan while she could listen in on local gossip. They needed some sort of excuse to go into the right direction and ‘accidentally’ stumble upon the Star Map. Ruvena doubted she would have another convenient dream-vision that could explain improbable finding skills away, and neither she nor Revan dared to fake something like that and be discovered by Vima.

The cantina was full of the usual lowlifes. There were spacers, recognizable by their space-tan, some down-on-their-luck fortune hunters and even a few moisture farmers enjoying a rare drink out after bringing their surplus in to trade. Ruvena found a table that was large enough for all of them and well within earshot of the most talkative patrons.

She went to get a round of ale for everyone by herself. There were few better methods to survey everyone in a room, especially while wearing full Mandalorian armor.

#Anything promising?# she asked Revan when her visual scan turned up no leads. He had been listening to the Force for any hints.

#Nothing specific. There are several important objects and people in and around Anchorhead, but I can not pinpoint anything. There is too much noise, and I am out of practice.#

He huffed, and Ruvena could sense his embarrassment bleed over. Neither of them was prepared for the amount of subterfuge that was needed to keep Revan and the amount of their restored memories a secret. On the other hand, neither were they ready for the confrontation that would inevitably follow that revelation. Ruvena doubted they ever would be.

She had just set down the glasses when they both felt the Force shiver, for lack of a better analogy. It was the worst kind of premonition, knowing something important was about to happen, but nothing more. She smirked faintly into the rim of her glass in anticipation, grateful that the course of her life had given her a greater control over her facial expressions than most Mandalorians.

It worried Ruvena to see Bastila’s eyes flicker to green. Vima had thus far preferred to remain in the background and let Bastila act and live as freely as possible, only coming forth when her expertise or advice was needed for the mission, and to fight. She was preparing for a fight when she noticed Vima wink and smile at her in an attempt at reassurance. It did not help much, but at least Ruvena knew that Bastila had another reason to not want to deal with the outside world at the moment.

#How childish for a host to hide behind their Jedi,# Revan scoffed.

#You sound like you are familiar with that occurrence.#

Revan fell suspiciously silent at that quip. Vima relaxed her posture while none of the others seemed to have noticed the change. Ruvena was curious what had caused Bastila’s reaction, but she sat face to face with her and would have to turn around completely to see it, which she deemed too conspicuous at the time. Everything would be revealed in time.

It turned out to be a middle-aged human woman in the sand-coloured garb that was common on Tatooine. She went straight over to Vima and began a rant until she noticed the eyes.

“Bastila, dear! What a lucky coincidence! I have been looking for you. You wouldn’t believe - You are not my daughter,” she finished with an accusatory tone.

“No, I am not,” Vima admitted with a faint smile.

“Please, take a seat. I am Jedi Knight Vima Sunrider. Bastila has agreed to become my host recently, and we departed on a mission shortly thereafter. That may have contributed to your difficulties in contacting her.”

The woman studied the company at the table suspiciously before sitting down next to Vima. Her eyes flitted from the heavily armored forms of Canderous and Ruvena over the less heavily armored forms of Carth and Trask to the unusual garb of Mission and Jolee and back until they settled on Vima.

“I am Helena Shan, and I want to speak with my daughter.”

A series of sideways glances followed her demand, most quickly between Vima and Ruvena, until her green eyes slowly faded to grey.

“What can I do for you, mother?” asked Bastila in a cold tone that would surprise anyone who knew the jovial young woman. Her mother almost gaped.

“What happened? You were supposed to be safe at the temple, not hosting!”

Ruvena had to bite back a snort. Revan was not as restrained and filled her head with exuberant laughter. There was no such thing as safe for a servant of the Jedi, whether they were hosts or fulfilled any of the other duties that needed doing. Billions of sentients across hundreds of planets were in the employ of the Jedi Order, working as pilots, mechanics, cooks, librarians or in many other professions on behalf of the temple they were employed at. Their contracts specified many things, among those under which circumstances, if any, the employee was willing to host a Jedi. But no matter the circumstances, working for the Jedi Order, even if it was an utterly mundane task like temple maintenance, was never safe, especially not at times like these with the threat of the Sith ever present. To pretend otherwise was foolish, to say the least.

#She misunderstands completely,# Revan commented as they listened to Bastila’s mother gripe and complain about her only child becoming host to a Jedi as if it equaled a death sentence. To become a host was supposed to be a choice that required informed consent. Or at least wholehearted uninformed consent, as Ruvena knew from personal experience. That was just one of the things that distinguished the Jedi from the Sith. The beginning of her partnership with Revan had been less than proper, and it went downhill from there. Still, even after their fall to the Dark Side and whatever had happened after, they had blended better than some host-Jedi-pairs that had undergone the screening process that was common practice in the temples.

The Jedi as a whole were very much aware how dependant they were upon their host in particular and the other sentients in the galaxy in general, and took a lot of precautions to keep their relations as amiable as possible. Few sentient species were as small or as helpless as an unhosted Jedi, and none but the Jedi depended on symbiosis to unfold their full potential. Ruvena tried to come up with an example to appease Helena Shan and calm her down, but all that came to mind were her personal experiences, and Revan’s memories.

#Tell her anyway,# Revan advised. #The advantages outweigh the possible drawbacks. No one but Vima will be able to guess at my continued survival from such a report anyway, and it is only a matter of time until she finds out.#

With a mental nod, Ruvena pushed mother and daughter apart. “Please, Helena, Bastila,” she interrupted the upset pair with words and gestures. As calmly and rationally as Bastila had started out in her attempts to explain, Helena did not seem willing to listen to the daughter she had been so eager to meet only moments earlier.

“There is no need to argue. I can assure you that any relationship between host and Jedi is entirely voluntary and governed by strict laws and thorough contracts except for a few notable and most importantly, noticeable exceptions. If Vima were not in accord with Bastila, you would never have talked to her the way you are talking now.”

Ruvena had meant for her words to be reassuring, but judging by Helena’s shocked expression, failed spectacularly. Fortunately for all involved, Jolee chimed in before the situation could escalate further.

“While not entirely accurate, Ruvena was truthful and mostly correct. I can see that does not reassure you, but maybe I can help with that. Ruvena, be a dear and take a walk around town while I explain properly. We still need to find what we came looking for, and a few more supplies would not go amiss, either.”

Ruvena nodded sharply and stood to leave. Behind her, she could hear Jolee make further excuses as she walked towards the doors.

“I apologize for her… bluntness. Ruvena is not temple-raised, and her explanations, while essentially correct, are influenced by her Mandalorian upbringing and aimed at a Mandalorian mindset. I hope we can overcome our differences while she calms down.”

#He is good,# Revan interrupted her continued eavesdropping. They did not stay to listen in on the following discussion.

Ruvena felt a strange pull leading her through the winding pathways of Anchorhead. She could not remember ever feeling the Force like this, guiding her to a destination. Revan was a silent presence at the back of her mind. Both of them were still getting used to this strange role reversal that marked their bond recently. She remembered the utter surety with which he had wielded their weapons and their body in the war. Since her own training on Dantooine however, Ruvena was as capable as any young Jedi, and steadily increasing in power and skill. The gradual recovery of large chunks of personal and shared memories increased not only her abilities, but also her confidence in said abilities. At the same time, she could sense that Revan struggled with memories he was not willing to share with her yet, if ever.

They ended up in front of a shabby repair shop that was overflowing with rusted droid parts and other mechanical parts and merchandise. To one side was a diverse collection of used droids, also for sale. One of them, Ruvena recognized.

#Isn’t that…?#

#HK-47. Indeed. What a fortunate coincidence.#

#I thought you didn’t believe in coincidences?#

#I do not. I am however, grateful that HK found its way here where it crossed our path. While we may no longer have need of an assassination droid, HK is an excellent fighter. The translation protocols might prove useful, as well. Regardless, we should not leave a droid like this were just anyone might stumble upon it.#

The shop owner approached them where they stood in front of HK-47, but Revan ignored him completely in favour of the deactivated droid.

“Override 937-blue-84-petrichor.”

“Override accepted. Memory core access restored.”

The droid’s photoreceptors lit up with their familiar orange-red light.

“It is good to see you, HK-47,” Revan said with a faint smile. As much as his memories of the last two years pained him, the droid was a masterpiece. Created as a joined effort by Alek, Marian, Revan and Ruvena, there was little that HK-47 was not capable of. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

They marched from the shop, leaving the Ithorian shop owner behind, flabbergasted. There was nothing he could to to prevent them from walking off with their recovered property, especially not on a planet as lawless as Tatooine. Revan and Ruvena on the other hand cared little for the objections of someone who sold stolen property. The elation of having recovered a significant piece of their shared past silenced the niggling thought that the Ithorian might not even have known his merchandise was not his to sell.

Wandering through the settlement, Ruvena took great care to update HK-47 on their current status and mission, as well as their crew. It was a bloodthirsty creature with a vicious sense of humour, and would delight in sowing discord among them, had she not forbidden it empathically. In the end, she decided it would be safer for HK-47 to remain silent for as long as possible, and for it to interact with the rest of the crew as little as possible. She led it to the Ebon Hawk , where it could stay in the cargo hold among the crates of supplies and guard the ship from intruders. On the way back from the space port, she encountered Canderous, who was radiating emotions on an unprecedented scale.

=Canderous! What happened?=

He stopped next to her with a heavy sigh.

=I have been challenged. Will you stand with me?=

Ruvena turned her entire attention towards her brother. Questions churned in her mind. Honour duels had become rare since the end of the war. Their people were too scattered, their losses too raw. There were few Mandalorians left who needed to resolve their grievances with a fight to the death.

=Of course I will. Where do we fight?=

They returned to the Ebon Hawk to plan and prepare. The duel was arranged to take place between the dunes a short distance from Anchorhead just after second dawn on the next day, so they had plenty of time. The challenger, Jagi, was a Mandalorian of clan Ordo who had fought in the first battle of Althir under the command of Canderous, like Ruvena. During that battle, Canderous had changed tactics to exploit an opening in the Althriri defenses, leading to a decisive victory that had put him in command over a larger part of clan Ordo. Jagi’s battle formation had been decimated in the assault, and he held Canderous responsible, still. So occupied were they, that they barely noticed or acknowledged the return of the rest of the crew. Only Bastila interrupted them with a request.

“My mother told me that my father died in a hunting accident somewhere nearby. Please, keep an eye out when you leave Anchorhead.  If you find him, please recover his diary. It may prove essential to reconcile with my mother.”

Bastila hesitated as she spoke, supporting the theory that Vima was the moving spirit behind this.

Ruvena and Canderous met in the main hold early in the morning, while everyone else was still asleep. Both were carrying the greater part of their weapon collection on their bodies. Ruvena had draped a cloak over her armored figure, a deliberate echo of the way Revan had worn his Jedi robes over her armor during the war.

The second sun was slowly rising above the horizon as they trudged through the Dune Sea. Jagi was already waiting when they reached the coordinates agreed on. At his side stood two Mandalorians who had not removed their helmets. Judging by their size and stature, they were probably human or near-human, like Jagi, or at least humanoid enough that it was impossible to guess in the armor.

=Finally. You have kept me waiting long enough,= Jagi sneered.

=Second dawn is what we agreed on, and it is second dawn,= Canderous answered, and pointed to the horizon, where Tatoo II was rising to join Tatoo I in the sky. =My honour is intact. We will fight, as is custom.=

With those words, Canderous first laid down his weapons, and began to take of his armour. Jagi hurried to do the same. To enter an honour duel armed or armoured brought irredeemable dishonour upon the combatant. Already the slightest hesitation was an offense against ancient custom. Stripped to their undershirts and trousers, Jagi and Canderous faced each other. The three witnesses circled them, setting boundaries for the battleground on which the duel was supposed to remain. To leave the circle voluntarily was to forfeit, another proof of dishonour.

The fight was mismatched from the start. Jagi was a only few years younger than Canderous, but more than a head shorter, and much slighter. Within minutes, Canderous had him pinned to the ground.

=Yield.=

=You might as well kill me now. A life without honour is meaningless,= Jagi spat.

Canderous hesitated. Ruvena moved, before anyone did something they would only regret later. She broke the circle and joined the men. Revan’s support wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak, infusing her presence with authority. She knew what she had to do. As she walked, she released the atmospheric seals and took off her helmet. The first breath of dry, scorching air was like a punch in the face. Canderous stood, and offered his hand to Jagi to help him get up.

=You will not die here, today. Live, and restore your honour,= Ruvena said. Then, she added: =I have a task for you.=

Jagi blinked up at her, stupefied. In the meantime, his companions came to stand with Ruvena and Canderous, helmets tucked under their arms. They were both women, a pale, red haired Zabrak, and a brown skinned human with short cropped hair as purple as her armour. Ruvena recognized Yurah and Aleena, also of clan Ordo, two of Jagi’s oldest friends, and agemates of Ruvena’s. She understood now why their hostile air had cleared when she showed her face.

=I need you to gather the clans and prepare for battle. I will call for the full might of the Mandalorian people soon.=

Ruvena’s order tore Jagi from his daze.

=Who are you to command me?= he asked.

=Mandalore the Victorious.=

The silence that followed was almost tangible. Jagi finally rose from his prone position in the sand and stood between his companions. Canderous straightened at Ruvena’s right side, his blank stare emphasizing the significance of his position.

=Do you doubt my sister?= he asked, when Jagi failed to react.

Jagi tilted his head, as if searching for the resemblance.

=Runana?=

=It is Ruvena, now,= she corrected in a soothing tone. Jagi shook his head and sputtered. Yurah failed to suppress a chuckle.

=But… We are leaderless. Revan defeated Mandalore and claimed leadership, although he is a Jedi and not one of us. You vanished on Cathar. How can you be Mandalore now?=

=Ask Yurah, she obviously has figured it out,= was all that Ruvena offered in reply.

#You are having way too much fun with this situation,# Revan chided. Ruvena knew he did not mean it. He, too, was enjoying this unique shell game more than most would consider appropriate.

At Jagi’s questioning glance, Yurah spoke: =My guess is as far-fetched as it is insane. You are either completely mad, or the most audacious, courageous warrior I can imagine.=

=Why not both?= Ruvena said, and laughed. =It is good to see you again.=

=I worried, after Cathar, when you disappeared. Canderous would not tell us anything, insisting only on your continued survival. I understand now. How he could be so sure of that, and why you did not contact us. A lot of things fall into place now.=

=I did not want to put us into an even more difficult situation. None of us, that is,= Ruvena confessed with a smile.

#Will you put them out of their misery, or should I?# Revan offered then. Judging by Jagi’s and Aleena’s facial expressions, the two human Mandalorians had still not caught on to what Yurah had guessed. Ruvena’s suggestion was as quick as a thought, and without breaking the flow of conversation, her eyes slowly turned white and Revan continued to speak.

=Ruvena was dying when we met, and this was the only way to save her life, and countless others across the galaxy. Know this: Had I known what path lay before us, I would not have chosen differently.=

He turned to face Jagi and Aleena as well and watched with barely concealed glee as they reacted first to his blazing eyes, and then to his words that followed.

=It is an honour to meet you all. I am Revan. You are familiar with my host Ruvena, I believe, even though you knew her under a different name.=

Silence ensued. All Mandalorians had learned enough about the customs and habits of the Jedi to recognize one immediately, and especially this one. Their spontaneous gathering did not last long after that. They all recognized Revan’s authority as Mand’alor now. Even Jagi, resentful and short-tempered as he had become, respected the Jedi General for his tactical genius, his prowess in battle, and the victory over the Mandalorian clans those qualities had contributed to.

Before they parted ways, Revan requested that news of his survival not be spread beyond the leaders of the Mandalorian clans, who needed to understand just who called them to arms. Most of the galaxy believing him dead remained one of their greatest advantages. 

The cave where the Star Map was hidden was not far from their current position. It was close enough that Ruvena could explain the ease of their discovery away without straying too far from the truth. Vima was sure to interpret it as the guidance of the Force then. It was almost funny, how the Jedi unwittingly supported Revan’s continuing ruse.

“We are fortunate,” Revan observed when they reached the ridge that extended to both sides of the cave.

“An immense Great Krayt Dragon dwells in this cave. It is probably hunting right now. We should hurry, before it returns.”

They entered the cave cautiously, with blasters in hands and lightsabers ready to draw. Even though the greatest obstacle had removed itself from their path, there were countless smaller critters that could hide in the cave and attack them. The inside was littered with bones and remains of varying age. Some was obviously prey that the Great Krayt Dragon had brought there to devour. Others appeared to be sentients, hunters or fortune-seekers, who had been killed by the beast they had tried to slaughter. Revan passed them without a second glance, going straight for the Star Map that was half buried beneath the sand all the way at the far end of the cave.

The Star Map unfolded smoothly once they came close enough. Ruvena transferred the data and secured the datapad. After the adventures at the last two Star Maps, she was grateful that this one did not seem to have any surprises in store. On the way out, she searched the skeletons and gear strewn across the cave floor for anything salvageable or valuable.

=I think I just found the best counter argument to shove in their face the next time someone tries to lecture me about the evils of greed. Guess what I just found?= Ruvena asked Canderous, who was mirroring her actions along the other wall of the cave.

=The diary of Bastila’s father?= he guessed, correctly.

=You’re no fun!= Ruvena complained with exaggerated irritation.

The way back to Anchorhead was uneventful. Carth would probably complain once again about the ease of their search. What should it be but easy, as they had found all the Star Maps once before, even if she did not remember all of the details of that search, yet. They reached the Ebon Hawk unhindered, and Ruvena went straight to her bunk after a small detour to drop the diary on Bastila’s bed. Although it was only afternoon, she was exhausted and craved sleep.

Ruvena woke with a racing heart, as if a nightmare she could not remember having had torn her from peaceful slumber.

#I am sorry. That was me.#

Revan felt almost contrite, as strange as it was to associate such an emotion with her Jedi.

#What happened?#

#I remember what happened at the battle of Malachor V, and afterwards.#

#How bad is it?#

She did not expect any huge surprises. She had started to research recent history after reaching Dantooine to make up for her missing memories, and it had helped fill in the blanks when her memories had started to return. She had learned that Revan had defeated Mandalore the Ultimate on board of his flagship in Orbit above Malachor V, while their fleets decimated each other in battle. She had remembered the battle the day Revan was restored to her, but the details, and the aftermath, had been a mystery until now.

#It will be easier to show you,# Revan answered and withdrew farther into the recesses of their shared subconscious. As his presence faded, memories began to flood Ruvena’s mind. The horror that was Malachor V, when the trap she had devised to end the war worked beyond any imagination and turned the entire star system into a graveyard. Defeating her opponent and becoming Mandalore had become less important then. They had sent them all home, the Jedi that had followed her, the Republic fleet and the Mandalorian clans alike, until they had time to come to terms with what happened.

They had taken a small transport to the surface of the planet, just the four of them, Ruvena, Revan, Marian and Alek. And he had been Alek then, still, even if the Jedi tried to remove that fact from history. There were ruins on Malachor V, rumored to be more ancient than anything else in the galaxy by some, said to be cursed by others. There was a reason the Mandalorians feared and respected the planet in equal measure.

Investigating old ruins was a relief after all the death and bloodshed they had witnessed and brought about. Both Alek and Revan were historians by training and archaeologists by preference. Although their specialties differed, they complemented each other well and had always worked well together, even before the war turned their partnership to different ends. Investigating the past of a society time had forgotten brought a nostalgic kind of peace.

Within the ruins, there was a portal. What they found beyond was enough to make Ruvena’s blood run cold, even in memories. When they returned, Revan and Malak were not the Jedi they had been before. They travelled beyond the Outer Rim then, seeking answers to questions Revan could not recall.

#This is strange,# he remarked.

#These memories are blocked completely. This feels different than the memory blocks the Jedi placed to shield you from my depravity.#

#They did?#

Ruvena did not like Revan’s newfound self-deprecating humour, but she let it slide. This was more important.

#They thought me dead. What happened to you afterwards is standard procedure for hosts of captured Sith since the Great Hyperspace War. The Sith is either removed or their death determined. Then, all physical bonds between Sith and host are dissolved and the memories are blocked. The host can then be set up with a new identity, or returned to their own, and live out the rest of their lives in peace, without remembering the atrocities their bodies have been used for. The only reason the memory blocks did not persist is because I am not dead.#

#That must be the cruelest kindness I have ever heard of. But we can debate the ethics of the Jedi Order later. Tell me about those memory blocks.#

She sensed Revan’s assent, and he continued.

#You know that each Force ability leaves a different echo in the Force. The same is true for each Force user, which means that, with the right training and experience, it is possible to discern the origin and the originator of any active Force spell. This was no Jedi, nor any kind of Sith I have ever heard of, or one of the other, lesser known Force sects. We will need time to dissolve this and recover fully, later. First, we must stop Malak, and heal him as I was healed. I will investigate this further in the meantime.#

Again, they resonated in agreement, and slipped into light meditation until the rest of the crew began to stir.

Contrary to the established pattern, Bastila was the next to get up. After her morning ablutions, she approached Ruvena hesitantly.

“I wanted to thank you. I gave the diary to my mother, and she was grateful enough to hear me out. We agreed to meet on Coruscant once this mission is over, to talk some more and overcome our differences. This could not be possible without you.”

Ruvena tried to empathize. Bastila’s worries were strange to her, not the least because of her personal history. She was the youngest of five siblings, and her parents had died long ago, way before she had become a Host. Moreover, Mandalorian culture had a completely different relationship with death than the galactic average. It would have made conversations on the topic beyond awkward, were it not for Revan’s guidance.

“I am sorry that you had to learn of his passing like this. I hope you will be able to reunite with your mother soon.”

Ruvena spread lifted her arm as an offer of physical comfort. She was more comfortable offering hugs than what felt like meaningless platitudes to her. Bastila snuggled into her embrace, and Ruvena was grateful that she had foregone switching her nightdress for armour as soon as she woke, for once.

“Thank you,” Bastila whispered after a while, face smushed against Ruvena’s shoulder.

As it turned out, Carth was both annoyed and grateful for the short duration of their stay on Tatooine. None of them was enjoying the climate, or the nonexistent hospitality of the desert planet. Nevertheless, Ruvena overheard Carth grumble something to Trask that sounded suspiciously like suspicions as he programmed the course to Korriban. As much as the Republic soldiers had grown on her, Ruvena was looking forward to never seeing them again, sometime soon. It was strange, how things turned out, she mused as she stared into the emptiness of hyperspace. She had expected to get along better with the soldiers than with a combat-shy Host, her scholarly Jedi and a Twi’lek street brat, even before her memories, and later Revan, returned. Obviously, common experiences only went so far.

Chapter Text

Carth had been expecting something like this to happen ever since he was assigned to this mission with more urgency and less intel than he had ever been given before. The sketchy command structure and the eerie manner that Ruvena had about her did little to alleviate his concerns. He had not dared mention any of that after the way he had been shot down the first time, choosing to share his misgivings in private with Ensign Ulgo and Master Sunrider instead. And so it was almost with a sense of relief that he noticed the interference in the artificial gravity of the Ebon Hawk . Only gravitational wells pulling a ship from hyperspace had such an effect. A quick glance to his instruments confirmed his suspicion. To Carth’s horror, he recognised the ship. They were caught in the tractor beam of the Leviathan . He called the others to the main hold over comms, and went there himself. Fortunately, the attack happened during the day-cycle of the spaceship, so nobody was woken from their rest.

The first thing he saw when he stepped into the main hold were Canderous and Ruvena in the soft clothes they usually wore instead of armour during hyperspace travel. He still had not gotten used to seeing the Mandalorians in such casual clothing. Still, it was better this way. Force knows what he might do when startled by a hulking figure in Mandalorian armour before he remembered that they were supposed to be allies on this mission. The siblings were arguing loudly in their native tongue, ignoring the rest of the crew that was arriving one after the other.

„Trust me, Canderous. I know what I am doing,“ Ruvena said in Basic, putting an end to their discussion.

“The Leviathan , Saul Karath’s flagship, intercepted us,” Carth said. He felt superfluous as he spoke. Who else had an interest and the means to try and capture them, except for the Sith?

“We should prepare to be boarded any moment now.”

“I can not detect Malak’s presence in the Force. Either he is concealing his aura, or we are very lucky indeed, and he is not on that ship,” Vima announced.

“One of us should try and stay hidden. Mission, you have the best likelihood at staying undetected. Sneak onto the Leviathan later, and see if you can free some, if not all of the others. Stay hidden if you can. Even if you cannot free us, you are better off hidden and not captured,” Ruvena suggested. Mission nodded and vanished as she turned on her stealth generator.

The Ebon Hawk shook again, a sign that they were being dragged into a hangar. A low hissing sound filled the air. The last thing Carth heard was Ruvena asking: “How did they get access to our life support?”

Then, everything went blank.

Carth regained consciousness in a small, circular force field. When he got up, he could see Ruvena and Bastila lying in similar cages. All three of them had been stripped to their underwear. The women were moving, slowly and cautiously, waking from unconsciousness as well.

“Bastila, Ruvena, are you all right?” he asked.

Ruvena sat up and started to test her range of motions. Carth had never seen her with her long hair loose and disheveled like this. She looked like a stranger.

“As well as can be expected, considering our circumstances,” she said. “Bastila? Vima?”

“They overpowered the stun bolts on us,” Vima said. “I need more time to heal the damage.”

Carth sighed with relief. Said relief did not last long. He stood and tried to move the stiffness from his limbs. Vima was meditating, and Ruvena had started to braid her hair into some semblance of order when the door in front of them slid open, and Admiral Saul Karath marched in.

“Carth, it has been far too long since we last spoke. I see the recent months have not been kind in your case. I barely recognised you,” he gloated. Perceptions were a strange thing. Carth barely recognised this old, tired, grey man as the admiral, would not have, were it not for his insignia and the fact that they were on his flagship.

“But I recognised you, Saul,” he answered. “I see your face every night even as I promise myself I will kill you for what you did to my home world.”

“Did you learn nothing -“

Karath’s answer was interrupted by a voice Carth did not recognise.

“So this is the great Admiral Karath. You always were a pitiful coward, but this is a new low, even for the likes of you.”

He heard Vima gasp. And how strange had his life gotten recently that he could recognise a Jedi from her host by the sound of her gasping? Carth looked to his left, where he saw Vima stare at Ruvena, further to the left. Ruvena was standing in her cage, back ramrod straight and arms crossed in front of her chest, a glare fixed on Karath. It was not a posture he had ever seen her take, but it seemed eerily familiar and fitting, nonetheless.

“Who are you?” Karath asked.

She laughed. That sound, if nothing before, proved to Carth that whoever was laughing could not possibly be Ruvena. The voice was deeper, the pronunciation marked by drawn vowels that could not be more different to Ruvena’s lilting Mando’a accent. Was this another Jedi, sent to assist them? It would explain a lot about Ruvena. But if it was a Jedi, why the secrecy? Why was Vima so horrified of their presence?

“I am your worst nightmare,” they said and spread their arms, slowly closing their hands to fists. Their eyes blazed bright white, as if shining with an inner light.

The controls threw sparks, and the force fields deactivated. The strange Jedi stalked across the room to a paralysed Saul Karath, lifting him by the throat with one hand.

“Give me one good reason to spare your life, you traitorous wretch.”

Karath gurgled and flailed, clawing at the hand that choked him. Carth was paralysed with horror at the casual cruelty he was watching. There was a crack, and Saul Karath’s lifeless corpse fell to the ground, his neck broken. The stranger kicked him in passing.

“Filth.”

Then they turned back to Carth and Vima.

“I apologise. None of you should have to witness that. Follow me, we have to move quickly, before the Sith notice they are missing an admiral.”

“Why did you kill him?” Vima asked, as they hurried after the stranger.

“Because he was a power-hungry idiot, and utterly devoted to Darth Malak, to the point of irresponsible disobedience. He razed Telos IV into a desolate dustball, against orders, just to prove a point. That is not the kind of person we can afford to show mercy to. Not in the position we are right now. Also, I have been waiting to remunerate him for a very long time,” they explained.

Carth was confused. What he had just heard made no sense at all, and went against everything he had learned about the destruction of his home world. Also, just who was it that had freed them from captivity? Vima seemed to know them, but that did not bring Carth closer to an answer.

“Our confiscated gear should be in this room. We need to hurry and find the rest of the crew. It is possible that Karath sent word to Malak concerning our capture, before he came to taunt us. We need to leave before he arrives.”

The room was indeed filled not only with their clothes and everything they had on their person when captured, but also a variety of other clothes, weapons and armor. Carth hurried to get dressed and armoured. For one, spaceships were colder than what might be considered comfortable, and he really did not want to get ambushed in his underpants.

“Why did you free us?” Vima asked.

“Would you prefer to remain in the torture chamber?” was the snarky reply. “We do not have the time for explanations now. Rest assured, I will explain myself once we reach the Ebon Hawk . And so will you. Now come quickly. The other cells are this way.”

Well, that was ominous. As if that was not enough, their rescuer had put on a black ensemble similar to what many Dark Jedi wore over Ruvena’s clothes. Under the hood, they looked menacing, and barely recognisable.

They ran into Mission and the others about halfway on the way to their cells. She had stayed hidden on the Ebon Hawk as planned, and freed the crew, who had now been on the way to free them in turn.

“I guess I won’t need this anymore,” Ruvena said then, as she pushed the hood off her head. And it was Ruvena again, mandalorian accent and all. “I could have pretended for us to be a prisoner transfer when it was just the three of us, but nobody would believe me if I tried to escort all six of you.”

Everyone had retrieved the gear they had been captured, but none of them were heavily armed or armoured. Carth noticed with gratitude that Ruvena had grabbed additional blasters, vibroblades and energy shields, that she was passing along now.

“The quickest path to the hangars is this way. Follow me.”

Carth swallowed the questions burning within him for the moment, and followed. They had been promised answers upon their escape, after all, and demanding answers now might just get them captured again.

Ruvena hurried through the twisting corridors of the Leviathan , the rest of her crew hot on her heels. She could feel the suspicious glances some of them are exchanging like pinpricks in her neck. Fortunately, they were keeping their questions for later, as Revan had requested.

#I sense a dark presence in the Force. It is not Malak, but maybe an apprentice. I do not recognise them.#

#I sense it, too.#

The way to the docking bay was almost deserted. The few patrols they passed on the way were almost easy to avoid. The darkened Force presence was immobile, waiting.

#They know where we are - and where we are going.#

In front of the blast doors to the docking bay, Ruvena paused.

“A Sith is waiting for us behind these doors. I suspect that’s why our escape has been going so smoothly until now. They must be really confident in their superiority. I dearly hope it turns out to be overconfidence, or we will be in real trouble.”

Without giving anyone the time to react to her statement, Ruvena opened the doors. On the other side waited the Sith, a double-bladed lightsaber in one hand. The red light gave a disturbing sheen to the sickly pallor of the host, a human male with a shaved head and a dark, precise goatee. His eyes were glowing yellow and surrounded by prominent dark veins. Behind him stood a squad of Sith soldiers, their blaster rifles pointed towards Ruvena and her crew.

“So you finally show yourselves. I am Darth Bandon, Lord Malak’s apprentice. And it will be my pleasure to kill you,” he announced before attacking.

Vima and Ruvena worked together to match Bandon strike for strike, while the others fought to defeat the soldiers. While sparring, they had noticed that the same force bond that had allowed Vima to share in Revan’s recovering memories also allowed them an uncanny level of teamwork and intuitive synchroneity in battle. This fight allowed them to take full advantage of that and more, to push their skills to the limit, as a team and as an individual. Ruvena revelled in a new level of synergy with Revan. While she focused on her bladework to keep Bandon occupied and contained, Revan shrouded them in the Force for protection and pulled at the strings of consequence. It was nothing as elaborate as true Battle Meditation, just a little nudge and pull, giving her the opportunities to take full advantage of her skills and twisting Bandon’s strikes awry. As expected, he warded against direct offensive Force powers, but this was an influence so minor that few Jedi or Sith even noticed, let alone protect against it. Before Revan could think to do more, the fight was as good as over.

Bandon was a capable duelist, but he could not keep up with them. He tried and failed to take advantage of Vima’s weaker defenses, leaving himself open to strikes from the end of Vima’s saber-staff and Revan’s off-hand lightsaber. Revan felt his fury rising, enraged at being challenged by such an underwhelming enemy. Bandon lacked skills and experience, and Revan wondered if this was what his followers were reduced to without his leadership and guidance. Bandon was not a Sith. He was barely beyond the skills of a Padawan, darkened and muddled in the Force, but without the power und knowledge of a true Sith. The thought roused a wave of rage and disgust, infusing him with further strength and speed. Revan launched a final overwhelming assault, and Bandon stumbled backwards and fell. He blocked Vima’s sweep, only to find himself impaled on both of Revan’s lightsabers. Revan would have preferred to capture Bandon and try to turn him away from the Dark Side, he noted dispassionately, as Bandon’s host wheezed out his final breath. Ruvena turned off their pilfered Lightsabers, and clipped them to the belt of the robe they had likewise borrowed. Both of them deliberately ignored the way Vima was watching them.

The Sith soldiers had been defeated during their fight against Darth Bandon, and Ruvena spotted Mission at a nearby control panel, slicing into the controls. Trask was helping Carth hobble to the Ebon Hawk . He had a nasty looking blaster burn on his thigh, but that was the most serious injury Ruven could see. They were all exhausted.

“The hangar lockdown is disabled. Let’s go,” Mission said, her usually chipper tone a fraction more subdued. They entered the Ebon Hawk as quickly as possible. For once, Canderous went to pilot the freighter into hyperspace instead of Carth, who was spread out across a bench in the main hold, a kolto bandage wrapped around his leg. Ruvena sat down on the single chair, while the others squeezed into the lounge. She felt as if everyone was watching her, full of expectation, and they probably were, too.

#Go on, explain yourself. It was your idea to reveal yourself that way,# Ruvena stated and closed her eyes. After the first few times, she had started to enjoy watching Revan justify himself for things he would not have to justify himself for, if only he were not as flamboyant and theatrical as he was. Also, it was just plain funny how Vima startled when Revan opened his eyes that Ruvena knew to be a blazing white.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I was a Consular before all of this?” he asked Vima with a wave of his hand that was supposed to comprise their entire situation. “Just a humble historian and archaeologist, with a particular interest in obscure languages.”

He chuckled wryly. Vima narrowed her eyes into a glare.

“Don’t try to distract me with pointless anecdotes. You owe me some answers. You owe all of us some answers.”

“So you do. I am true to my word. Ask, and I will answer as truthfully as I can. My recollection of some events remains arbitrary. I only ask that the same courtesy be extended towards my questions, afterwards,” he offered.

“You can begin by explaining yourself and your deception, and continue with answering the questions you brushed off during our escape: Why did you kill Saul Karath? Why did you free us? And why do you remain here?”

Revan suppressed the urge to antagonise Vima just for the sake of it. The fun he might have by watching her sputter and struggle with her frustration was not worth it in the long run, he knew from experience, especially not in this situation.

“I shall start with the basics, then. I am Jedi General Revan. My host Ruvena Ordo is already known to you,“ he introduced himself with a shallow bow. He hoped that his actions had inspired some measure of trust, and she would hear him out.

“I do wonder though, why you question my presence. I was here all along.”

He casually tapped the base of Ruvena’s skull, where a hosted Jedi was closest to the surface.

“I apologise. I never thanked you for saving our lives on the bridge of the Behemoth . Your selfless courage is appreciated. Please, tell me: Is Bendu Tsa well?”

“Bendu Tsa has gone into seclusion,” Vima answered, before she remembered who she was speaking with. Then, she made a face as if she had taken a sip of caf and found it salty, surprised and offended in equal measure, and refused to say another word.

“I am relieved to hear that,” Revan said, and ignored the wave of incredulous disbelief that followed. „As for the former Admiral Karath… To redeem one such as him, who does not want to be redeemed, is close to impossible. Any attempt to capture him would have made our escape much more difficult. To leave him alive put all of you in incredible danger for as long as Malak remains our enemy. And your safety is very important to me. That is why Saul Karath had to die. I believe that answers your question pertaining to your release as well,“ Revan explained.

“Is this the kind of decisions you made during the war?” Vima questioned.

“To some extent,” Revan answered. “The Revanchists started out as support staff. Scouts, pilots, healers, and the like. Anything that helped, but kept us away from the frontlines. That changed after the Devastation of Cathar, but only slowly. Years passed before I was in the position most remember me for.”

Canderous had been waiting for this confrontation to happen ever since he met Ruvena on Taris. He came into the main hold, only to catch the tail end of Revan’s explanation. Inside, he saw Mission visibly stupefied into silence. Carth had tried to interject with questions several times already, but both Vima and Revan ignored him. Jolee sat to the side, listening in with a peaceful air about him. Trask was inscrutable.

“Revan appeared from nowhere after the Devastation of Cathar. No one knew where they came from, and no one know what their host looks like. For all we know, you could be telling the truth. Or you could be just about any Sith pretending to be another for what reason, I cannot fathom,” Vima stated.

“Why would I do that? No, why would we do that?”

“I dare not presume to speculate on the motives of a Sith,” Vima said.

Canderous laughed.

“You and your council questioned me for hours on Dantooine, and now you choose not to believe me? When the evidence is literally sitting right in front of you? I was there when Runana became a host. I witnessed them become Revan. I admit, we did not speak much then, but I recognize them. This is the same Jedi I met on Cathar.”

“Why is there no record of them before Cathar, then? ”

Vima had slipped completely into the role of interrogator. Canderous admired her callous persistence, even though it was directed against him in a way. Revan chuckled.

“Revan, as we are, did not exist before. But what we saw at Cathar, each of us by themselves, made it clear that we had to put an end to this conflict. We created Revan then and there, in part out of necessity. To become as prominent a figure as we planned, in a war where both our people had so much at stake was dangerous, both for ourselves and for any associates. And so Revan had to have no associates: No teachers, no students, and certainly no friends. Revan is a persona. We created several others during the war, but none as elaborate and real as Revan. As an individual, I ceased to exist. For their safety, we will not discuss the name of my former host, or mine.”

He said the last sentence with the sort of sincerity that emphasised the extent of his protectiveness. Canderous understood the impulse. He remembered Bendu Korran from Cathar. He had spoken with the soft-spoken scholar while the Jedi were busy saving his sister’s life.  Although they were enemies, the man had been easy to like. He had told Canderous of the bond that existed between a Jedi and their host, and tried to prepare him for the changes that lay ahead.

Vima bowed her head and made a strange gesture with her left hand, too fast for Canderous to identify.

“You are Ye’seij,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

Revan returned her bow, hands clasped in front of his chest in a precise shape.

“What was is done. Your knowledge cannot change the past. We move onwards, united by purpose,“ he said. It sounded like benediction.

„What just happened?“ Mission asked, giving voice to the confusion they all experienced.

“Ye’seij are Jedi who renounce their name and their identity to serve a cause. They are granted special privileges and consideration that extends to their host. Precautions that we could not take, because we were not aware of Revan’s status,“ Vima started to explain. „The identity of a Ye‘seij is subordinate to their cause, and their host is granted total anonymity. Some choose to go by an epithet or a title, others are addressed only by their rank in the Order, or as ‚Ye‘seij‘. The duty of a Ye‘seij is considered sacred, and ordained by the Force. Traditionalists would never dare interfere with a Ye‘seij, and most will prefer a different course of action to direct opposition.”

„Unquestionable authority was never my intention. The Republic and the Mandalorian clans required protection. After the war…”

Revan fell silent, a mien of contemplation on their face.

“After the war we reaffirmed our pledge, and our dedication, but we do not remember to what purpose,” they said with a frustrated growl. “The memories flit out of our grasp like fish. I can’t -“

They broke off with a gasp, and the way their expression went blank told Canderous that Ruvena had taken control once more. She folded her arms in her sleeves in mimikry of a typical Jedi pose, and remained silent.

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I have something to tell you,” Trask spoke up after a while. His tone and face were still as impassive as they had been since meeting up on the Leviathan . Canderous had wondered about the change in the otherwise lively and talkative soldier. It seemed as if he was about to get an explanation without having to ask for it. “Our encounter on the Endar Spire was no coincidence. I am an Intelligence agent assigned to observe your convalescence, and to intervene if necessary. I hope I did not err in my assumption that further subterfuge on my part is inadvisable, given our course.”

“I appreciate your honesty. The time to speak has come. There should be no deceit between us when we reach Korriban. The Dark Side is strong on that planet. It will twist our fears and turn our suspicions against us. Only absolute trust, in ourselves and each other, can protect us from the danger that lies ahead,” Revan said.

“This is exactly what I was talking about, all the way back on Kashyyyk. I was right not to trust you. You have been deceiving us all along. How do we know you are not deceiving us, still?” Carth stated bitterly. “And now it turns out I cannot even trust those I thought I could depend on. You lied to me, without hesitation.”

Canderous struggled to understand Carth. The man was a soldier. Surely he was familiar with the subterfuge common in warfare? Or had the aftermath of the Mandalorian War turned him wary beyond reason?

“I have been honest with you from the moment we met,” he stated. “I had no part in the lies you accuse me of. I admit, I did not contradict or correct them either, but the truths you seek are not mine to tell.”

Carth’s posture made obvious that he was neither impressed, nor convinced by Canderous’ honesty.

“I did not lie to you,” Revan tried next to soothe Carth’s paranoia. “I was asleep when you met Ruvena, in a healing trance so deep, not even the Jedi Council of Dantooine could sense my survival. Ruvena was not even aware of ever having been a host. Will you condemn her for her ignorance? Or maybe the Jedi who sought to protect her, when they believed her to be a victim of my wickedness? There is little I can offer you to lay your worries to rest, for I do not know what you need to find peace. Whatever you require, if it is within my power, I will grant you.“

„I think that most of all, I need time to process all of this.”

Carth’s statement effectively ended the conversation. Although they still had much to discuss, everyone agreed that they were in need of a meal and a good night’s rest. The Ebon Hawk ’s day cycle was nearing its end anyway, and everyone drifted off towards the rooms they had claimed for themselves.