You Must (Not) Let Go

Part 8

Bastila held her head in her hands, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She shook her head and strode off to find the others.

~~~

“I don’t care how it happened, you have to turn us around now!”

The finely carved legs of Lipiers Marte’s caf table bounced across the delicate patterns of the carpet with each thud of Ran’s boots.

“She said she can’t,” Mission repeated. “Weren’t you listen--”

Ran’s pacing ceased. “I have important things to attend to. I do not have time to play galactic adventurer with punks and lowlifes!”

“Hey!” The lamp stand wobbled as Mission pushed herself off the armrest of the chaise longue. “Just because you’re some fancy pants Jedi doesn’t mean--”

“We can’t turn back.” Bastila lifted her head to look at the group. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” she said to Mission and Zaalbar. “This is not how I meant things to work out.”

Ran’s face appeared close to hers, dark with anger and tension. There was something not unlike panic hidden deep behind the exhaustion in her eyes. “It’s not that hard, little Bastila. All you have to do is turn the ship around and fly us back the way we came. Even you should be able to handle that.”

“Do you think I would say so if I wasn’t certain?” Bastila said, pushing the taller woman out of her personal space. “The navicomputer has no idea where we are! We cannot simply turn the ship around and trundle along back to the Republic. We don’t know where ‘back’ is!”

Bastila watched the words penetrate. Mission went pale. Ran’s face was like stone but Bastila could feel something dark and despairing roiling within her. Zaalbar stood impassive, the fur above his brow matted with blood where a falling tool box had struck him. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking. Bastila hung her head. It was a mess. Everything was all such a mess.

“S-so…” Mission swallowed. Her voice was shaky. “So, what you’re saying is we’re stuck here.”

Bastila shook her head, rubbing her eyes with her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“How did the other guys manage to fly back?” Zaalbar said softly. He’d been quiet until now. “Did they have special maps or something?”

“I don’t know. No. No, they can’t have.” Bastila sat back into the lush cushions, thinking. “They must have been communicating with each other. Or using each other’s navicomputers to extend their range. Like a link or a chain.”

“Could we do that?”

“Could we?” Mission jumped in. “Could we use that to get home?”

“No,” Bastila said a little distantly.

“Oh.” Mission deflated.

“We would have to be within the same solar system,” she continued, drawing slow circles in the air with her foot as thoughts turned over in her mind, “and I have no idea where they jumped to. It would explain why I didn’t notice how lost we were until it was too late, if our ship was connecting to theirs. I don’t think we need to know where we are to make a jump. We just need a point and then we can aim for that.” We’d have to be extra careful about marking our route though or we’d run the risk of ending up even more in the dark than we are already. Or rip straight through a black hole and that would be the end of that.

“What good is that to us?” Ran demanded. “You have made it oh so clear that we are utterly lost in the bowels of hell without a single hope or prayer.”

“Well, it’s no good to you perhaps,” Bastila clarified.

“Oh, shit.” Mission cocked an eyebrow. “Is this that thing? The thing that Carth was complaining about from before about how you’re going to find Sera?”

Zaalbar let out a surprised chuff. Ran threw her hands up, making a gargled noise of disgust and disbelief deep in her throat.

“You’re still hung up on that?” Ran spat. “Get over it, Bastila! The lout’s run off or dead in a ditch by now! She’s never coming back!”

Bastila’s foot stopped its meandering path through the air. She straightened and fixed Ran with an icy glare. “Excuse me. Do not talk about my partner that way.”

Ran scoffed. “‘Partner’? She’s a common piece of trash clinging to the heel of your boot! I don’t know why you’re so caught up with this one particular…” She gasped. “Is that what this all is about? You’re still searching for her?” Her jaw clenched, shock melting into anger. “You’ve dragged us into a wild bantha chase for some civilian that you’ll never find?”

“It is not a wild bantha chase,” Bastila said firmly. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m the only Jedi the galaxy has left, Bastila! How many lives have you doomed with this, this willful attachment to a fling!”

“Oh, you mean like the lives you were saving trying to take on Nath-Rhotha’s thugs? All the lives you saved with the unnecessary damage you caused? I am certain the Jedi are very happy with all the energy capsules you kept safe!”

“I was trying to keep sacred everything that you abandoned! What do you even know about saving lives? Do you even remember what it’s like to be a Jedi? Did you ever understand it? You know what?” Ran said. “You want a point to aim to? The galactic center is right there!” She stabbed a finger in a vague direction. “Aim straight for that and stop this nonsense before you get anyone else killed!”

“The galactic…! Do you have any idea how big that is? You’re asking me to aim for a point… That could take years!”

“And you expect us to believe that your blind fumbling in the middle of nowhere is honestly going to take any less? And for what? One civilian?”

“At least I have a better idea of where Sera is rather than floating around in empty space hoping to hit Coruscant! And you have no right to judge her whatsoever. You met her once and she cooked you breakfast.”

“I would be honoured to help you find Sera,” Zaalbar interjected. “However long it happens to take.”

Bastila looked at him, surprised. “Oh, Zaalbar…”

“Y-yeah,” Mission added, her face still pale. “Whatever it takes.” She pulled herself upright, making a visible effort to project confidence and cheerfulness. “You can count on us! Wherever you go, we’ll be right behind you.”

Bastila opened her mouth to respond but no words would come. Nothing that was sufficient to convey the magnitude of the gratitude she felt at their selfless offer.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“This is a mistake,” Ran said. “We should turn back this instant.”

Bastila sighed. “You’ve been outvoted, Ran. Just deal with it.,” she said, rubbing at her tired eyes.

The other woman glowered, mouth compressed into a thin, stubborn line. She pivoted sharply and marched towards the door. “You will regret this. Mark my words, we will all live to regret this.”

~~~

Bastila slumped onto the kitchen stool, feeling her body settle onto the hard seat however gravity took it like a sack of vegetables. She stared blankly at the heater unit, watching her food spin in the illuminated box, soothing darkness of the kitchen all around her. The others had all separated to opposite ends of the ship, seeking comfort and solitude from the horrifically long day they’d been forced to endure.

The unit dinged. Bastila pulled the plate out, the sweet scent of hot brownies filling the small staff kitchen. She dolloped a large scoop of ice cream onto each brownie; ice berry and a scoop of milk tea flavour for herself. Her shoulder ached vaguely as she reached for her cup of caf, the remnant of her fall in the Jedi outpost what must have been yesterday by now.

She navigated the narrow stairs down to the lower deck crew quarters, getting turned around in the unfamiliar space until she found the bedroom she’d tossed her duffel bag of personal effects into earlier. It was a little smaller than she’d thought when she’d picked it, with only a single, cramped bed and a tiny cupboard for all her belongings. But the only decent sized bedroom she’d seen, one that hadn’t already been claimed by her impromptu crewmates anyway, was the modest suite off the bridge which appeared to have been Nevyn Andrers’ domicile before Bastila borrowed the entire ship out from under him and his master’s noses. Which felt a little too like sleeping in a strange man’s bed for Bastila’s tastes. And if she were being completely honest with herself, the thought of sleeping all alone in a bed made for two still made her want to howl with grief.

A yawn split her jaw as she brought a heavily ladened spoonful up to her mouth. She really should get some sleep. Her mouth closed around the neck of the spoon, sweetness exploding across her tongue as the food dropped into the gaping chasm of hunger in her stomach. She wiped delicately at her lips before taking a sip of her caf, letting herself focus on nothing but the aroma and the steam rising off the cup for a moment. The ship hummed quietly around her, engines barely rumbling as they kept them in a lazy orbit around the gas giant, water tanks gurgling gently as they ran their refresh cycle. She scraped her plate clean. Her head ached dully from the rich sweetness, the food simultaneously too much and not enough to fill her. She closed her eyes, feeling the pull into the darkness.

~~~

“A single gas giant orbiting a decent size white dwarf, orange clouds swirling around the equator with more rapid eddies at either pole. Lightning dances in the upper atmosphere, disappearing almost too quickly for the naked eye to see. The system star has a smaller companion, yellow, not quite as bright, orbiting around a common point. A dense asteroid belt lies in between the gas giant and the coupled stars. A potential source of fuel and water, if the need should so arise. There is some evidence of a smaller, terrestrial planet within the inner solar system. However, with the density of the asteroid belt and the brightness of the main system star it is difficult to know for certain.”

~~~

The nose of The Galactic Star slid slowly through space to aim at the targeted position, kept going, and finally came to rest pointing ten degrees to the left.

Mission coughed over the comm. “You wanna try that again?”

Bastila thumped her head onto the smooth timber of the ship’s wheel, fighting a truly impressive battle against the urge to stomp her feet on the bridge floor.

“Unbelievable.” Ran’s voice sounded even snottier than usual coming from the cockpit’s tinny speakers. “You insist on continuing with this madness and you can’t even fly a ship straight.”

Bastila snapped her head back up, the varnish pulling at the skin of her forehead. “I’m sorry, I would like to see you do any better!”

The cockpit filled with the sound of Mission clearing her throat theatrically. Bastila slumped sullenly into her chair. Ran sniffed indignantly but was still.

“Anyway. Bring us round to point five?”

Bastila sighed and adjusted the wheel, watching the nose of the ship noticeably dawdle in empty space for a moment before it sluggishly responded to the control column.

A soft, rumbling hum vibrated out of Zaalbar’s deep chest. He reached over from his position in the co-pilot’s seat and muted the cockpit microphone. “Say, Bastila? How well do you know this Ran person?”

The question took her aback and she almost neglected to pay attention to timing the delay between her movement of the controls and the ship’s eventual response. “Oh. Well, I, uh, we were roommates for many years when I was much younger, back in the Order. With two other girls. We are the same age, within about a year or so, so we went through all of our training and education together.” Bastila eased off on the wheel, tweaking it to get the ship to stop in the right place. “I apologise for not introducing her properly earlier.”

“Is she always so angry?”

Bastila rolled her eyes. “Ran always thinks she knows more than she actually does. And her confidence and forthright attitude makes her seem like perfect, heroic Jedi material to some of the Masters. Not like certain other students, oh no! They get called headstrong and hot-tempered and are assigned extra meditation in order to reflect on their behaviour!”

Zaalbar made a noise not unlike a hastily contained chuckle. “I see.”

“Do you know what she used to say? ‘Keep up, little Bastila’,” she said in her best toffee nosed drawl. “‘And maybe one day you’ll get to see a real Jedi in action.’” She threw her hands up in frustration. Then she sighed. “She has also just lost everything she has ever known. As much as she is very full of herself, she does deserve our, my patience.”

He nodded. “I trust your judgment in the matter.”

“I-- Thank you, Zaalbar.” She bowed her head gratefully. It certainly didn’t feel like her judgment was sound, sitting in a ship that wouldn’t fly in the middle of formless space.

He extended a long, furry arm and patted her on the back with infinite gentleness. Bastila felt tears prick her eyes at the faith he was vesting in her. She reached to switch the cockpit microphone back on. One more reason she could not afford to get this wrong.

~~~

Bastila trudged wearily after Zaalbar through the lushly furnished sitting rooms and leisure areas that made up the upper decks of the ship, the thick carpeting muffling the sound of her footsteps. It had taken hours to coax The Galactic Star into the correct position and at least another two preparing a new mapping file for the navicomputer, followed by the meticulous checking of every number and setting to be input before she could finally, with her hands trembling and her heart in her mouth, engage the hyperdrive and send them rocketing towards potential doom. All she wanted to do is lie down and not think about all the things they might have missed that would bring their journey to a sudden, violent stop. But Zaalbar had insisted that she follow him and, honestly, after everything it was a small price to pay.

She frowned as he led her into an elevator of gleaming transparisteel and chrome, a hidden ring of lights casting a softly pulsating glow from the floor and ceiling, completely concealing the drive mechanism from view. There was nary a scratch or scuff to be seen. Did everything on this ship need to be so ridiculously fancy? Zaalbar grinned at her in his Wookiee way as the doors slid open, quiet as a whisper. She hadn’t even felt them moving. The scent of leaves and dirt hit her as she followed him out of the elevator through a small atrium. The ship had a plant room? Lipiers Marte hadn’t struck her as the type from her very brief perusal of his file. Too much wo--

She stopped dead. Her mouth fell open. Above her head, giant and close enough that she could reach out and touch it, shimmered the rushing river of hyperspace, throwing blue and silver light on the delicate fronds of exotic trees stretching into the distance.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Mission’s heels clicked on the smooth ceramic tiles laid into the ship’s deck as she walked towards them from a gazebo of curling metal and timber, Ran close behind her.

“What…?” Bastila shook her head. “It didn’t look like this from the outside. Does the entire top lift off? Is it shielded?” An artificial breeze rustled through the trees carrying with it the gentle babbling of running water from somewhere nearby. One could almost believe they were standing beneath an open sky, if that sky were a chaotic mass of swirling light.

“Big Z climbed one of the trees to check it out. The whole thing’s smooth like a Gamorrean’s butt. It’s a… Hang on, let me show you,” she said, fiddling with something on her datapad. Hyperspace flickered and became daylight shining on snow capped mountains, then the desert at night, then the stars of an unknown system, the ship just skating above the multi-coloured rings of a terrestrial planet. “These are just the presets. There’s nothing stopping you from…” The sky briefly became the main screen of Mission’s datapad, bathing them in pink light as a cartoon gizka in a polka dot dress gazed down on them like some ancient god, before quickly flickering to a stretched out image of a soot covered Mission and Zaalbar grinning in front of a waterfall. “…using your own images.” She tapped the screen and the sky filled with clouds of pulsating colour. “The possibilities are endless!”

“I was going to ask ‘why’ but clearly…” Bastila gestured at the myriad of trees and the fine furnishings laid out at strategic points in the garden. “…that is the wrong question to ask.”

“Those who live in excess are parasites on the society that supports them,” Ran intoned solemnly. “It is a travesty that no one had the courage to do anything about it.”

Well then, why didn’t you--! Bastila bit the inside of her cheek. Be nice. “I… suppose that it’s a good thing he no longer has it then,” she said with as much civility as she could muster. “And that its comforts may be enjoyed in better company.”

Mission snorted. “You bet your boots it’s a good thing he doesn’t have it!”

Zaalbar chortled.

Ran cocked her head. “How do you mean?”

“Are you kidding? With the stink Bastila kicked up at the dock?”

“There were many bounty hunters there,” Zaalbar said with a grin.

“How long do you think it took for one of them to drag Marte’s skinny butt in front of a judge and take him for every credit he has?” Mission threw her head back and cackled.

“I hadn’t really thought of that,” Bastila said as she watched the sky cycling through every colour in the visible spectrum. “The range of the hyperdrive had been my primary concern. Huh. I think you might be right.”

Ran’s face tightened visibly. “Yes, well, I guess we can chalk that up as a win for dumb luck this round.”

“Ha! More like a win for every taxpayer in the galaxy, am I right?” Mission said, good-naturedly elbowing Ran in the ribs. “Now he gets to pay his dues like the rest of us mere mortals. Oh, I guess you don’t pay taxes either, what with being a Jedi and all.”

Ran said nothing, the corner of her eye twitching.

“Anyway,” Bastila said, quickly changing the subject. “We still have quite a while until we need to calculate another jump. Would everyone like to join me for a sit-down meal? The pantry should be quite well-stocked, even though I had only planned on having a crew of two.”

“Yes, a proper meal is the least you could do after making us put up with your nonsense,” Ran said sourly, thunder still clouding her features.

Bastila’s fists clenched. Be nice, be nice. “I-it shouldn’t take me too long to whip something up. Although, I don’t know if I would call ‘trying to save someone’s life’ nonsense.”

“Chasing after a lost cause is. Particularly when our time could be better spent restoring the Order to its rightful place of honour!”

“I did not ask you to tag along with me, Ran. In fact, I seem to recall telling you to get to safety as fast as possible. But you insisted that you would not because of your wild conspiracy theories!”

“The Jedi Order has been murdered!” Ran snapped. “I need to get to the bottom of this and I am still not convinced that you are not involved somehow!”

Bastila felt like her head was about to pop off her shoulders. “Do you honestly think--!”

Mission jumped between them, holding her hands out. “Woah, woah woah! Don’t you guys think we should at least salvage a cursed artifact before we start murdering each other?”

Bastila blushed as the anger drained out of her. “Yes, you’re right. I apologise for my behaviour, Ran. I suppose we’ve all been under a lot of stress.”

“Or possessed by alien ghosts!” Mission barreled on, like a train heading down a track. “Driven mad by centuries of solitude with nothing to keep them company but the knowledge of their own wretched sin! Slowly rotting and twisting into an obscene mockery of their former self, a travesty reaching back through time-- Mmph!”

“Mission!” Zaalbar lowed. “Stop tempting fate! Haven’t you learned from all the holos we’ve watched?”

“A spot of meditation before our repast would not be amiss, I’m sure,” Ran said, cocking an eyebrow at the pair.

“There’s gotta be tonnes of weird things out here just waiting for us to find!” Mission said, prising the furry paw from her mouth, her eyes aglow with wonder. “All the forgotten temples, all the strange civilisations, all the treasure! This is gonna be the best adventure of all of our lives!”

~~~

“Aargh, I’m so bored! There’s nothing here to do!”

Bastila held her datapad out of the way, looking down at the young girl who’d thrown herself on Bastila’s lap and was kicking at the overstuffed cushions on the Deck Two living room couch. Saving her work on the calculations of their fuel consumption, she set her datapad down on the side table next to her and gently stroked the girl’s cerulean blue head.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” Bastila said reassuringly. “There is always, uh… I think there might be some classics stored in the main computer? The main dining room could always use some cleaning, I suppose. And we’ll need to deal with the leaves in the observatory sometime.”

“Eeurgh!”

“Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.” Bastila smiled down at the girl. “Can’t you ask Zaalbar if there’s anything he wants to do? I know he’s always such good company.”

“He’s too busy playing astronomer,” Mission whined, her voice muffled by Bastila’s thighs. “Besides, we’ve already played pazaak a bajillion times and I’ve run out of conversation topics with Hugo.”

Bastila’s hand froze. “What? I’m sorry, I don’t… Who…?”

Mission flopped her hand vaguely towards the centre of the room. “The forklift thingy you got down in the hold. I tried to give her a makeover but I wasn’t able to find any paints or anything in the entirety of the whole ship.”

“I see…” Bastila said, nodding slowly, not seeing at all.

“I thought fancy rich folks were supposed to be artsy fartsy and cultured and stuff but apparently Marte was letting the side down, not even leaving me some finger paints or a box of chalks or crayons or anything…” She delivered a particularly vicious kick right into the center of one of the cushions. “Oh, Hugo might have maybe sprung a little leak when I was trying to boost her speed last time. You might want to check that out sometime.”

“Ah.”

“I did glue all the bits back together.”

Ran strode into the living room clad only in her undershirt, the tips of her horns glistening damply in the overhead lights.

“I need another set of robes,” she said abruptly to Bastila. “Lend me one of yours. Also, why are all of your bread rolls lurid colours? I went to take one out of the freezer for my morning tea and it was like a rainbow vomited in there.”

“Those are for Sera. Leave them alone,” Bastila said firmly. “There should be plenty of normal ones underneath. And I don’t have any robes to lend you, unfortunately. I can have a look through my wardrobe but I don’t think I have anything that will fit you. You could always dip into our gracious host’s collection,” she said, tugging on the brocade jacket around Mission’s shoulders.

Mission looked up from Bastila’s lap. “Why’d you get Sera rainbow bread?”

Bastila felt a blush painting her cheeks. “Well, there was a, a cafe that opened up on Taanab when I was passing through. It looked like the kind of place Sera would like to try, so I,” she shrugged, “I bought a few things. So she can try.” She scratched at her ear, embarrassed at explaining her thinking out loud.

Mission’s face lit up. “Awww!”

“Ugh!” Ran made a face. “Must we talk about little Bastila’s unseemly attachment to the civilian?”

“Yes!” Mission popped up, resting her full weight on Bastila’s thighs. “Because there’s nothing else to do around here!” She collapsed back down, muffling a scream into Bastila’s lap as she resumed her violent assault on the cushions.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ran said.

Bastila helplessly raised her hand. “She’s bored.”

Ran nodded sagely. “Ah, I see. Not to worry, little one,” she said to Mission. “Look to the enlightened fellows in your midst, see how they thrive in what others call boredom and be encouraged.”

“Hey, Bastila?” Mission said flatly, swivelling her head to face her. “Didn’t you and Sera once nearly tear the Hawk apart because you were bored?”

“Ah. Yes, well, you see…” Bastila shifted in her seat, feeling her face grow hot. She cleared her throat. “Why are you getting me involved in all this?”

Ran sniffed. “That lout again. She’s a bad influence.”

Bastila opened her mouth to defend her beloved and found herself laughing instead. “I suppose she is rather. Mmm, the best kind.” She let out a heavy sigh. “By the stars, I miss sex!”

Ran threw up her hands. “Ugh!”

Mission lifted her head to roll her eyes at Bastila.

“I’m an adult!” she said at both of them. “I am allowed to enjoy adult things.”

“This is getting too much for me,” Ran said, holding her stomach as though she were nauseous. “I’m going to practice my forms to cleanse my mind of all of this.”

She left, the thick carpeting quickly swallowing her footsteps, returning the living room to a dull stillness. The swinging of Mission’s foot slowed to meet the even tempo of the antique timepiece resting atop the tansu along the wall. Bastila reached for her datapad, scrolling through the long list of timecodes and log reports, emissions readings and temperature changes. Occasionally, she made a note alongside an entry and cross-referenced it with observations they'd made of their intended path before plotting their course. The battery indicator in the corner of the screen flicked down a percentage point as she scanned another line, the light fitting in the lamp on the side table buzzing an unchanging hum into the silence of the room.

Mission turned her head towards Bastila. “There’s really nothing to do here, is there?”

Bastila looked from her calculations to the young girl in her lap, her face marred by lines where her skin had pressed into the fabric of Bastila’s trousers. “I have a dejarik board packed away somewhere if that would help,” she offered helplessly.

“Nah, it’s okay,” she said, sliding listlessly from the couch. “I’m just gonna go take a nap, I guess.”

~~~

“Deep space. There is the curving mirage of a blackhole off our portside and a rather mundane single-star system to our starboard. A fairly typical collection of asteroids and gas giants with a few rocky planetoids thrown in for good measure. We are too far away to see if they have anything of genuine interest to offer but preliminary scans suggest otherwise. One of its comets swung by our hull on its outer orbit as we were passing through. Just another stop on our journey further into the unknown.

The manoeuvering of The Galactic Star continues to be an issue. After much discussion amongst the crew, it has been decided to test the use of the supply shuttle as a tug vessel. The yacht may have been built for elegance and leisure but it had to get into dock somehow and I can’t imagine its former owner putting up with such lengthy delays just to get his ship into position. I shall take command of the shuttle tomorrow morning with the hope that we can finally eliminate these unnecessary hours lost on our travels.”

~~~

“Tug plan poorly thought out. Shuttle NOT built for multi-day travel. Had to repurpose water bottle as urinary device. To be used for manoeuvering or short jumps ONLY.”

~~~

“No! I said the size six spanner!” A jet of tepid water, stale with the taste of washed bodies and used detergent, caught Bastila square in the face, flooding her eyes and mouth. She threw the useless spanner aside as she held the bursting pipe shut with her free hand, anger directing her aim towards the source of her frustration.

Ran snatched the spanner out of the air before it hit her in the stomach. “I was not trained to wallow in filth! Do not speak to me of things which are beneath my capabilities!”

“You were the one that said fixing the septic tank was work for an idiot, Ran!” The toolbox thumped into Bastila’s hand with a little more force than she had intended. Water was beginning to pool at her feet and in her shoes, running down her body like a river. She dug around blindly for the correct spanner. “You were the one who said that you would find the solution that must have been staring little Bastila in the face all along!”

Ran turned red. “I am not meant to be here on this ship! I am meant to be elsewhere saving the galaxy from evil!” she blustered. “If you would just have--”

“You argue with me when I tell you to do something, you can’t follow instructions, you can’t even read a number written on the front of a tool!” Bastila twisted the coupler shut. The gushing fountain stopped. “The great and powerful Aleran Staulkie, Knight of the Jedi Order,” she mocked. “How do you expect to be of any use to anyone when you can’t even do something as simple as helping me unclog a tank?” The septic tank rumbled ominously within the walls. Bastila pushed Ran out of the way, opening the greywater valve. The pipes vibrated and sang, water rushing through the septic tank system. “You are useless!”

Bastila tossed the spanner back into the toolbox and stalked out of the hold in search of a mop, her shoes, clothes and underwear a sodden, swampy mess.

~~~

“--seems to all be back to normal again. Gave the loo up here a test flush and there wasn’t any backwash or odd smell anymore.”

Bastila sighed, her father’s holocron dimming with the cadence of her voice. “Absolutely thrilling. Toilet adventures.”

She rolled her shoulders, the bathrobe fresh and soft against her skin. “Had a bit of a bump as we skated past a blackhole along our path. Nothing to worry about. We had observed and compensated for it, it just seems to have swallowed something up between the light from it that we observed and its current state. Zaalbar fell and twisted his leg but he’s responding well--”

The door to her next to her little desk burst open.

“Look,” Ran announced, completely unprompted. “You have to do something about your little friend. She’s driving me positively mental.”

“Excuse me. These are my private quarters,” Bastila said, holding her bathrobe shut.

“What does that have to do with anything? Now, she cornered me in the garden, when I was training, and was pestering me if she could take a swing--” Ran blinked dumbly, taking in the glowing holocron in front of Bastila. “That--! Where did you get that?” She grabbed for the device, seemingly on reflex.

Bastila held it out of her reach. “None of your business. It’s mine.”

Ran seemed confused. She reached for it again. “Every holocron is meant to be under the jurisdiction of the Jedi Order. You shouldn’t have that.”

“It doesn’t belong to the Jedi Order. It is my father’s,” Bastila said adamantly. “As a matter of fact, I seem to recall telling you about it when we were small and you all made fun of me!”

Ran started. “Yes, yes, of course.” She dragged a hand down her face. “For a moment I thought… Somebody had been taking, from the Archives, and I thought…” She slumped against the doorframe.

Bastila looked past the tall woman to the empty bedroom on the opposite side of the corridor. She slid the door open with her mind and pulled the twin of her chair towards them, gently touching it to the back of Ran’s knees. The other woman collapsed into it gratefully, holding her head in her hands.

“If it’s any consolation,” Bastila said gently. “This thing doesn’t have the full capabilities of a functioning holocron, merely the storage capacity.”

Ran avoided her gaze, fidgeting with the increasingly worn sleeve of her robe. She picked up Bastila’s datapad. “The Laujeonn Massacre? Odd reading for a trip into deep space.”

Bastila took the datapad from her and put it face down on the desk. “You were saying something about Mission?”

“Oh. Oh, yes.” Ran drew herself up to full height. “You’ve got to do something about her. She is interrupting my training, asking questions, clambering over everything.”

“She’s just bored. Have a little patience.”

“She wanted to use my lightsaber!”

“Ran…” Bastila put a hand over her eyes. “She likes you. She’s trying to get to know you.”

Ran rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a long sound of disgust. She made to stand.

Bastila held out her hand. “No, please wait. I wanted to apologise for earlier.”

Ran settled back into the chair, folding her arms across her chest. “Hmph!”

Bastila shot her an annoyed glare. “I was quick-tempered,” she said, refusing to rise to the bait, “and I should have made more certain that you understood what we were doing. This does not mean that you were without fault,” she clarified when Ran’s chin lifted in smug satisfaction. “You acted as though you knew better and argued with how I directed you when I was the one with the expertise in what we were doing. But I should have had more patience. I’m sorry.”

Ran nodded curtly, still not meeting Bastila’s eye.

“You know,” she said carefully. “After, after everything… with Malak, I struggled a lot with people telling me what to do, with not feeling as though I had any control over my life or my person, the things around me. It made me quite aggressive with those around me and I lashed out when I didn’t mean to or when other people were only trying to help.”

Ran attempted a sneer. “I didn’t realize playing at being a civilian made you so eager to air your dirty laundry.”

“And then again, after my mother died and I had no one left, no living family,” Bastila continued, ignoring her, “it helped, having Sera, having the others, knowing that I could always talk to them, lean on them for support when I needed it. There was no need to, to bottle things up inside. Feel that you’re all alone with the monsters in your head.” She nudged at the datapad, the grim article still glowing on its screen.

“I still don’t see how this has anything to do with me,” Ran said, bringing Bastila back to the present. “If you’re trying to make me feel--”

“I’m not. It’s just…” Bastila sought for the words. “We… haven’t really talked about it, have we? What happened on Katarr.” Ran flinched visibly. “I know you and I don’t always get on but I’m always here for you if you need a willing ear.” Bastila waited. Ran said nothing. “And if you’re not comfortable talking with me, I know from the depths of my soul that both Mission and Zaalbar would be more than happy to listen to anything you wish to share.”

Ran laughed, her voice thick with poorly suppressed anguish. “Are either of them even old enough to drink? What could they know of anything?”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Bastila said softly. “We’ve all lost a lot over the past few years.”

Ran sniffed, her eyes wet as she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. She shook her head. “No thanks. I am a Jedi. I don’t need the help or pity of a couple of civilians who couldn’t avoid trouble if their lives depended on it.”

Bastila opened her mouth to say more. Ran cocked her head, all hints of vulnerability hidden behind a wall of resolute pride. Bastila sighed. “Be that as it may, my door is always open. Although, it wouldn’t hurt if you would knock first.”

Bastila turned back to her desk. But Ran didn’t get up. She leaned forward, staring at Bastila intently.

“Why are you doing this, Bastila?”

“What?” Bastila looked at her, confused.

Ran waved her hand around. “This nonsensical chase after a single lost soul. Just think how many lives you could save with the time and effort you’ve spent on one person.”

Bastila stiffened. “You know very well why I’m doing this, Ran. Sera is my partner and I will not abandon her no matter what other people might say.”

“You were chosen by the Force to be a Jedi, Bastila. Existence itself separated you from the common mass to protect light and life. Stop ignoring the pull to serve something greater than yourself and help me reignite the flame of the Jedi.”

“The only pull I feel is the one leading me deeper into unknown space!” she said, stabbing with unerring accuracy towards the point in space where the other half of her lay. “I don’t know what you think you’re trying to accomplish here but I am not turning this ship around until I have Sera safe and sound in my arms again!”

Ran threw her hands up in frustration. “And you’re willing to let the galaxy burn for the sake of one person?”

“The galaxy’s going to be just fine, Ran. There are millions of places in the galaxy that have never even heard of the Jedi and they’re all just fine.”

“How can you even say that?” Ran was practically vibrating. “Have you even seen the state of the galaxy at the moment? How is any of that fine?”

“It’s not like the Jedi were doing any--!” Bastila bit her tongue. For Juhani and Jolee’s sake. “I am not going to exchange Sera’s life, or anyone else’s for that matter, for the Jedi Order or the Republic or for anything.” she said, holding her temper with difficulty. “I simply do not, cannot, in any way accept that as a reasonable cost for any system or creed or government or anything. What kind of world,” she continued, not allowing Ran to get a word in, “what kind of future are we building if at the basic, simplest level we are not willing to protect the life of, of a plumber from the back end of the galaxy! Not a general or an enemy politician! What is the worth of any society that does not care about the life of an average person, that treats them as disposable unless it’s convenient!”

Ran scoffed. “What a fine speech! I’m sure the countless millions who will lose their safety and security will be glad to know that at least Bastila Shan rescued her bedmate!”

“You still haven’t convinced me that Jedi can do anything to get the galaxy out of this mess. And you definitely haven’t convinced me that you have any plan to fix things either!”

“Did every scrap of training fall out of your head the instant that lout walked into your life? Was your conviction so weak that it couldn’t withstand a nice pair of knockers? The Jedi bring balance! The galaxy will languish in chaos without us!”

“That is based solely on the Jedi Order’s own philosophy about itself. There is absolutely no reason to believe that the galaxy as a whole cannot take care of itself.” Bastila let out an annoyed huff. “Things change, Ran. It is not always nice and it is frequently upsetting but sometimes you just have to let go.”

Ran was pale with anger, her mouth drawn into a thin line. “One could say the same about your precious Sera.”

“Are you--!” Bastila spluttered. “No! There is still a chance to save her, end of story!”

“And you have not convinced me of that.” Ran rose and stormed out the room, leaving Bastila tense and agitated behind her.

~~~

“A blue hypergiant with two rather toasted terrestrial planets orbiting it, the outermost of which appears to be tormented with violent electromagnetic storms splitting the atmosphere. Our solar filters came down immediately upon entering the system and I was surprised by how much we were pushed around by the stellar winds. I wonder how far we could travel on them if we had sails we could deploy.

Had to travel quite a ways away at sublight speeds to be able to plot our next course. An interesting place. I feel rather fortunate to have seen such a rare sight in person, although I would be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful to no longer feel as if the air were made of light.”

~~~

“From one extreme to another. A rather dim red dwarf with a brace of frozen ice balls for planets circling it, a single barren planet tidally locked within a thin asteroid belt devoid only of ice due to the close proximity to its cool star. We set down on the fifth planet of the system to refuel. There are some easily accessible mineral deposits on the surface that preliminary scans indicated were compatible with our engines. Technically, we had no need to stop. Fuel sources are easy to find and our tanks were nowhere near empty. But better to not tempt fate. And it made for a much needed break from the doldrums of travel through unending hyperspace.

“Well, more or less anyway. I managed to rouse Mission and get her dressed to go out onto the ice and the instant we stepped off the ship we were assaulted by the most utterly dreadful miasma. The others were fine. Zaalbar said he noticed an old smell in the air but Ran claimed to be completely fine. Made some smart comment about the strength of a Jedi. Must be some strange compound that Zabraks and Wookiees are immune to that is toxic to Humans and Twi’leks. Apparently, there are creatures below the ice. I didn’t see them myself, of course, but apparently the frozen ocean is positively teeming with life. I said we should make a quick study of the native lifeforms. The others decided that meant we needed to catch one. Zaalbar fashioned a fishing pole and he and Ran worked together to wrangle one of the beasts to the surface. I’ll… admit she performed admirably today. Zaalbar could not have hauled the creature to the surface on his own and Ran cooperated with him remarkably well. It got a bit of a smile out of Mission, at least. And now our food stores have been extended considerably. The creature tasted quite delightful when grilled and served over a bed of steamed grains. I did take some pictures before we cut it up for the freezer, as well as some measurements and a description of its internal organs.

“I wish Sera were here. That awful stench beats out the time we were replacing all the cabinetry in Mx. Kilian’s house on Monda and there was that fungus growing in the walls. ‘Like a corpse shitting itself’ is how Sera described it, if I recall correctly. My word, that was rancid. Afterwards, she went into the hills and gathered enough wildflowers to surround us as we worked. I spent the day with sun roses in my hair as we tore out the old cupboards.”

~~~

Bastila swatted the hanging fronds out of her eyes as she peered behind the artfully arranged line of trees to the quiet spot under the bushes where the observatory wall met the tiles floor. Not here either. She hopped off the planter and ambled towards the twisted pair of roshi trees at the back of the room, bending down every so often to peek under the foliage.

She slipped through the door hidden by the trees, the atonal buzzing of a lightsaber echoing off the marble walls of the pool room. Ran stood at the water’s edge, her faded robes dark with sweat as she moved through the intricate stances of the lightsaber forms.

Bastila raised her voice to be heard over the harsh electrical hum. “Have you seen Mission?”

Ran glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, balancing on one foot as she held her saber over her head, poised to strike at an invisible enemy. “Not since two days ago when she bumped into me on her way back to her room.”

Dammit. “Wash up and meet me down in the dining room in an hour. I’ve told Zaalbar as well but if you run into Mission make sure she comes with you. Don’t take no for an answer.”

Ran made a face. “Why?” She shifted her grip, bringing her saber down to gut her phantom opponent.

“We need to look after each other’s well being this far from civilization. We can’t simply… Should it be making that sound?” The blade of Ran’s lightsaber thrummed violently as she moved it, throwing pulsating blue light across the walls and the still surface of the pool.

“I should think you would remember what a lightsaber sounds like. It can’t have been that long.” She flicked her saber up, creating a blazing flurry of plasma around her.

“I know. It sounds like there’s a short in it somewhere. Did you check it after your last battle?”

Ran rolled her eyes as she thumbed the blade off, the air smelling of ozone and the faint scent of chlorine coming off the pool. “Unlike some other disciplines,” she drawled, “Guardians have a more intimate understanding of the tools of our craft”

So, you fuck ‘em, Sera’s voice said in her head. Bastila’s mouth twitched. “I will trust the matter to your intimate knowledge then, Master Guardian.”

~~~

“A dense nebula formed from a star we witnessed going supernova through our telescope. Quite beautiful when we adjusted the observatory ceiling to display light in the infrared and ultraviolet spectra, truly a spectacular display of colour all around us. We switched to sublight engines and moved up there for the day to enjoy the sight.

“There were some protests over my insistence that we all gather for at least an hour every night to check in with each other but they mostly centred on how we should pass the time after we got over the accusations of ‘Lame!’ and ‘Ugh, what are we, five?’ and ‘You’re not my real mother!’. Ran wanted to lead us all in a martial arts class. I vetoed this idea. Zaalbar suggested we might want to hear some of the poetry he’s inspired by the majesty of the cosmos. I quite liked the sound of that but the other two opposed. Apparently, Mission’s heard all of it already. Mission said that we should all ‘throw ourselves into the void and die’ but I didn’t take this seriously. She was more responsive when I mentioned that I had dug my stack of board games out of storage. And I… I got our dejarik board out. The one that still had the last game that Sera and I were playing when she… I, uh, I made a copy of all our positions, so we can pick up where we left off when, when we see each other again and I, uh, cleared the board. So we can use it. While we look for her.”

~~~

“Another red dwarf.”

~~~

“And another one.”

~~~

“And another one. The wonders of deep space are turning out to be more repetitive than I thought they would be.”

~~~

“Deep space again. We should have made a longer jump. I had us all perfectly lined up with the shuttle and we should have just--

“We need to make longer jumps. We’re not out here on a sightseeing mission.”

~~~

“I made some adjustments to our course. It should cut down on time now that we’re close… No, no, I can only judge direction not distance. To think otherwise would invite… We’re going as fast as we can, that’s the only thing that matters. We will reach Sera… That’s the only thing that matters.”

~~~

“--And then I pulled the corporal out of the way right as the grenade detonated at his feet, shrapnel flying everywhere.” Ran gave a satisfied nod. “I must say, it was a thankful day for that young man’s descendants that everything was in competent hands.”

“Wow,” Mission said sleepily, huddling into her hoodie, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her hands. “That must have been really something, huh? I never really thought about how Jedi would work on an actual proper battlefield.”

Bastila smiled at the well-worn words of the story as she reached for the dice. She consulted her cards before moving her piece. “Your turn,” she said to Zaalbar.

Zaalbar held his game piece delicately between his claws, looking between the board and his cards before setting the piece down. Bastila tapped a finger against her mouth, noting his piece's proximity to the central room.

“Yes, it’s quite a heavy responsibility to bear,” Ran said, lacing her fingers together behind her head with a pleased smile. “The worst part of it is the medal ceremonies. All those people fawning and fussing after you when you were just trying to do your job,” she said, her tone implying otherwise.

“Yeah, it was less fun than I thought it would be after they gave us ours.” Zaalbar nudged Mission’s shoulder. She picked up the dice. “There were all these stuffy delegates and generals and stuff and the music was kinda boring. Food was pretty good, I guess.” She counted out her moves on the board, missing the scowl on Ran’s face.

“That whole Star Forge debacle. Yes, I remember that.” Ran tossed the dice with a little more force than was necessary.

“Mission earned her Cross of Glory by breaking us out of Saul Karath’s torture chambers,” Bastila interjected, ignoring Zaalbar’s push towards the center of the board and moving her piece on her planned course towards the eastern quadrant. “I doubt any of us would still be alive if not for her.”

Ran gaped at the young Twi’lek sipping at her hot chocolate. “Bu… wha… You can’t have been more than twelve!” -- “Hey!” -- “Bastila! What were you doing taking children into battle?”

Bastila cocked an eyebrow at her childhood roommate. “Wasn’t your first battle when you were twelve? I seem to recall you being very, very…” Bastila took a breath, “very proud of that fact.”

“But that’s completely different! You can’t just take a civilian--”

“Regardless,” Bastila interrupted, “even though it was not a decision that I would make again if I had the choice, Mission proved more than capable of taking care of herself and those around her on multiple occasions. And she was fourteen.”

Mission puffed out her chest and beamed, her lingering langour thrown off if only for the moment.

“I went on my first hunt when I was twelve,” Zaalbar said, moving his game piece with decided confidence towards the central area.

Bastila scowled at the placement on the board. Zaalbar grinned at her. What did he know that she didn’t?

“Yeah, but Wookiees are, like, eight feet tall when they’re twelve,” Mission said, moving her piece randomly as though she had no plan in mind at all.

“I mean, I was not without my father and the village hunters,” he said, watching Ran take her turn. “The Shadowlands is not a place for those who have not yet cut their teeth.”

“I wouldn’t think the Shadowlands are much of a place for anyone,” Bastila said, thumping her piece furiously into the board as she changed course to chase after Zaalbar.

“Nah, you just saw it in the worst season,” Mission said, watching Zaalbar move inexorably towards victory with mild disinterest. “Me and Big Z went after and it wasn’t so bad.”

“Mission…” There was a pained expression on Zaalbar’s face. “You got bit by a kinrath and had to spend a week in the healer’s hut.”

Mission rolled her eyes. “Pfft.” She placed her piece on the board in the opposite direction from which she’d been heading.

“There are kinrath on Dantooine,” Ran said, rattling the dice in her hand. “I didn’t realize you chaps had encountered them anywhere else.”

“Maybe a traveller brought them there,” Zaalbar said, following the dice as they rolled across the table. “We’ve always had them on Kashyyyk, since before I was born.”

“They might have come aboard the, um…” Bastila threw the dice carefully, mentally calculating how many moves she and Zaalbar needed respectively. “The Rakata’s ships. If they visited both planets.” She set her piece down. So long as he didn’t throw a nine or above, it should be fine.

“That’s right, I didn’t think of that.” He rolled. The dice tumbled, landed. Two fives. Bastila slammed her hands over her face. Zaalbar chortled. “Captain Neeli in the Engine Room with the Incendiary Device.”

Bastila let out a muffled scream.

“Well, that was rather fun,” Ran said.

Bastila dragged her hands down her face, folded her arms across her chest and slumped back into her chair with a thud. “Dammit.”

Mission drained her mug. “I wanna play the stacking game.”

Zaalbar shuffled the cards briefly before packing them back into the box with the other game pieces. “I thought we didn’t play that around Force users.”

“It’s in the top cupboard,” Bastila said.

“Nah, it’s just Sera. I trust these other two not to do anything funny.”

Ran frowned. “What cause would you have to not trust a Force user?”

Mission looked up from the blocks she was setting down. “She cheats.”

Bastila stretched, working the kinks out of her shoulders. “Sera doesn’t need the Force to cheat. Believe me.”

“She’s not dishonourable, you know,” Zaalbar protested, sounding offended on his friend’s behalf. “You just have to tell her you want a simple game and she’ll happily play fairly without any protest.”

“Oh, no, I know,” Mission said quickly.

“She just… likes getting caught,” Bastila finished, a blush rising to her cheeks.

Ran groaned. “Oh, please, no! Not more of your perversion!” She shuddered.

“It is perfectly normal in a long-term relationship,” Bastila defended. “You’re just jealous.”

“What?” Ran shifted in her seat as though it had turned into a mass of biting insects. “How could you even--? Why would I ever be--?”

“I think it’s sweet, playing with your mate like that,” Zaalbar stated.

“I’m not jealous!”

Mission laughed, a light and happy sound that had been all too scarce over the long months.

“Aw, man, I’ve missed this sort of thing. Everybody here sitting round a table, having a good time, messing with each other. Not that it isn’t great having your own ship and being able to do whatever you want with it. Putting in all the lighting and figuring out all the electronics was really fun. But it’s different, you know? Having everyone around and not spread all across the galaxy, never seeing each other. And now with Juhani and Jolee…” She sniffed. “Hey, you remember the time all the gizka started nesting in Jolee’s underpants and he wasn’t really paying attention and we all woke up to him dancing and swearing and wriggling round the Hawk? Or those chuds that tried to shake us down for all our valuables on Tatooine saying they were Revan’s former bodyguards? Boy, imagine if they’d known…”

“Mission!” Zaalbar yelped.

“What?” Mission swivelled her head between Zaalbar and Bastila.

Bastila frowned urgently at the young girl, trying to convey meaning through expression alone.

“Oh!” Mission clapped a hand to her mouth.

“What? What is it?” Ran looked between them suspiciously.

“It’s classified,” Bastila said with forced calmness.

“Right, right!” Mission waved her hands around frantically. “It’s, like, super classified! Like, if we told you government agents would have to come and suck all your brains out! Top secret, military-grade intelligence, sealed for a hundred years. We can’t tell you.”

Ran crossed her arms. “Is this to do with your so-called talents? Another special thing for little Bastila to run off to Coruscant to play with the adults?”

Bastila shook her head with a smile. “It was just a military operation, Ran. And it is not my secret to tell.”

“Hmph.” Ran poked moodily at the stacked blocks, seemingly put out that Bastila hadn’t risen to her bait.

Mission smacked her hand. “Wait your turn!”

A soft ding came from the kitchen. Zaalbar stood up. “My snack is ready. Does anybody want some?”

“Thank you, Zaalbar. That would be lovely.” Bastila delicately slid a wooden block out and placed it on top of the stack.

Mission drained her mug. “Can I get a refill?”

“You’ll rot your teeth if you keep drinking so much of this!” Zaalbar complained, taking the mug anyway.

“Nah, I’m a growing girl. I need the carbohydrates. Oh! Oh! Could you get me a bowl of that ice cream? With plenty of sauce on it.”

Bastila clicked her tongue. “You and Sera with the horribly sweet things.”

Mission rested her fingertips elegantly against her chest. “We both have excellent taste.”

“At least Sera eats her vegetables,” Zaalbar called from the kitchen. He came out a moment later laden with dishes. “Wild mushroom pie,” he said, placing the steaming dish gently next to the stack of blocks. “And ice cream.”

“Yay!” Mission took the bowl and began digging in with gusto.

Bastila stared fixedly at the pie. “Uh. Did you… Was that under the bread rolls?”

“Yeah, it’s nearly expired, so I thought…” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh, were you keeping this? Should I not have…”

She started. “No, no! You were right. Far better to use something up rather than let it go to waste. It’s not like it would do anybody any good if it rotted away completely. Things don’t keep forever. We have plenty of food and… yes.” Her head was nodding dumbly, a bobble dangling loose on a string.

“Right…” he said uncertainly.

Her gaze dropped to the table. The pressed linen tablecloth blurred before her eyes. She blinked rapidly, shame and guilt filling her. The others were watching her, she could feel it. She jumped up from her chair.

“I just need to check on something quickly,” she said as lightly as possible, angling her face away from them. “You carry on. I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for a response, she strode from the dining room, making it through the door as the tears began to fall. She pressed her lips together tightly, fighting against the sounds trying to burst free from her throat, sorrow flooding her vision as she stumbled down the hall. Pushing open the door to the nearest bathroom, she buried her face into the soft hand towels and sobbed.

Stupid. Idiotic. You knew this could take a long time, you knew! She kicked at the bin standing next to the basin. It helped a little.

“Dammit. Dammit, dammit.” Her voice was thick with grief, even to her own ears. She pulled the towel down her face, twisting it back and forth between her fists as she struggled to regain control over her breathing. The pain subsided to a manageable simmer. She blew her nose and looked into the mirror.

“Well, don’t you look awful.” Her eyes were red and puffy, her makeup running and smeared across her skin. She washed her face, pressing a cool, damp towel to her eyes. It helped. It was still apparent that something had happened. She did not look as she had before but she no longer looked quite like a deranged lunatic. She contemplated making a quick run down to her room to reapply her makeup but dismissed the idea. The others understood.

Ran was waiting in the hall when she exited the bathroom.

“All free,” Bastila said, making to walk past her.

Ran caught her arm. “Do you really think this is healthy?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re falling apart, Bastila. How much longer are you going to let this trip do this to you?”

Bastila pulled her arm free. “I am quite fine. I simply had a momentary--”

“It’s not just you.” Her face was twisted in genuine concern. “Haven’t you seen what this is doing to the others, doing to Mission?”

“Of course I have!” Mission’s depression was obvious, even to those who didn’t know her usual sunny nature. “Why do you think we’re doing all this?” She gestured towards the dining room where their little party had gathered. “Do you think I’m blind to the needs of those around me?”

“I think we could be floating out here in the darkness for far longer than any of us might survive,” Ran said softly.

Bastila flinched. “I need to find Sera. I, that’s the only thing that matters.” She couldn’t meet Ran’s eye.

“We’ve been doing this for months, Bastila,” Ran pressed. “We have not found a single thing of interest and then all of a sudden you’re changing our course? When will it end? Even if you do actually know where this girlfriend of yours is, at what point does the cost become too great? We may never even reach her!”

“I--”

“They didn’t know what they were signing on for,” she said with a contemptuous flick of her wrist towards the dining room. “They would never have said yes to this preposterous scheme if they had! Are you really going to take advantage of their ignorance for your own selfish gain?”

Zaalbar’s head popped into the hall. “You better hurry up! Pie’s getting cold and Mission’s threatening to cover it in ice cream and chocolate sauce if you don’t get back soon!”

“Think about what I said,” Ran whispered close to Bastila’s ear so only she could hear. “Think about what you’re doing to Mission.”

She turned on her heel and strode back down the hall, calling after Zaalbar in a jovial manner, making him laugh. Bastila lagged behind, acid roiling in her stomach.

~~~

“Uh, a, um, single star system. Red dwarf. Very small dim. Two planets orbiting it, one rock, one ice. We’re, uh, we’re going to take some readings before we head on. See what there is to see. And then, well…”

~~~

Bastila’s thighs ached as she climbed the service stairs up to the top deck, the high, narrow steps putting the kind of strain on her muscles that she hoped would send her restless mind straight to sleep. She pushed open the hidden door at the top, the fresh scent of leaves and dirt wrapping around her. An ocean of stars shimmered above the trees, their gentle light undimmed by the phosphorescent strips laid into the tiles or the sun shining weakly beneath The Galactic Star. Bastila ambled through the potted plants and ferns, no course in mind as she gazed at the cosmos, eyes inevitably falling on a solitary point of light lost in the darkness.

A soft noise made her jump. Zaalbar chuckled, the whites of his eyes only just visible in the shadow of the gazebo.

“Oh, Zaalbar, you startled me,” Bastila said, holding a hand to her chest. She smiled at her own foolishness. “I’m afraid my mind must have been elsewhere.”

“Well, Wookiees are known to be quiet,” he said with a mischievous grin. “What are you doing up so late? I’m certain that you were awake before the rest of us this morning.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she deflected. “I didn’t think anyone would be up here at this hour.”

“Just wanted to get some observations done,” he said, patting something next to him. Bastila realised he had the telescope set up and pointing at the stars. His datapad was lying face down on a pedestal where a pot had once been, its low light mode glowing red into the pale marble. A stack of datacards lay nearby, along with the datapad’s recorder, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. “I turned the ship on its side to get a better look at everything. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no, of course not. The ship isn’t mine, after all. You’re free to do whatever it is you wish.”

Zaalbar paused. Something in her tone must have caught his attention. “You want to sit here a while? It’s nice and quiet this time of night.”

Bastila hesitated. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Why not.” It wasn’t like she was going to find peace anywhere else on the ship. She lowered herself onto the step of the gazebo, her restless muscles uncertain if they were happy with this change of events. Zaalbar settled next to her, warmth and solidity radiating off of him.

“I’m sorry, I’m not as good at this as some of the others are,” he said suddenly.

Bastila smiled. “In my opinion, you have been doing an admirable job so far.”

He chuffed in relief. “I realised that relying on tradition or being my father’s son wasn’t going to be enough to make me a good chieftain. I’ve been trying to be more attentive to the needs of others, so I’ll be ready when I have to lead a village council.”

“They’ll be lucky to have you.” Her mood shifted. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Zaalbar considered this for a moment. “Did Ran do something to upset you?”

“No, no. At least, not anything she shouldn’t have. Do you really want to be here?” she asked suddenly. “After all this, after knowing what it’s actually like?”

He seemed surprised. “I will remain true to my word, Bastila. I said that I would…”

“I know that. I don’t doubt your honour. But I can’t help but feel that you did not know the full extent of what you were promising when you made your offer.”

He sat back, a low, thoughtful rumble emanating from his chest. “Do you know why I’m up here?” he asked. “Do you know why I spend all my time here looking through this thing?” He rested his hand on the telescope.

“I… presume it’s because you like it.” She couldn’t quite see where he was going with this.

“That too. We don’t get much chance to play with such things on Kashyyyk, not in Rwookrrorro anyway. Too many trees. But it isn’t only that. I mean, just look!” He flung his hand up to the transparent ceiling, the sea of stars shining brilliantly against the pitch black of space. “Nobody has seen any of that except for you and I right now. So many of my people only leave our planet in chains or with the ignominy of exile. And out here, I’m not just the first Wookiee, I’m the first anybody.”

Bastila let his words sink in. “Still, this whole expedition could take up a significant portion of your life, even if that means a different thing to you than it does to a human. And who is to say that what has happened to Mission won’t happen to the rest of us, stuck out here, all alone with nothing to do. What if Mission doesn’t get better? What if she gets worse?”

“Are you regretting trying to save Sera?”

“No,” she said without hesitation.

“Well,” he said, standing. “My promise still stands. As for Mission, it might be better to talk to her yourself.”

He patted her gently on the head and walked towards the elevator, arms stretching upwards in a tired yawn. Bastila stayed, staring into the darkness, thoughts tumbling restlessly in her head.

~~~

Bastila sipped at her caf, the hot liquid singeing her tongue as she waited for everyone to settle down. She squinted against the lights of the living room, the luminosity set to simulate a bright summer morning. Ran was fiddling idly with her lightsaber while Mission sat slumped in the chaise longue, wrapped in a dressing gown of finely spun gold silk, clutching a pillow to her chest. She was complaining about the cereal she’d been having for breakfast. Zaalbar promised to make her steak and eggs. Bastila drained her cup and sat it down on the side table, holding up a hand to get everyone’s attention.

“Thank you all for meeting me here. I really appreciate it.” A tendril of nervousness wormed its way through her gut. She took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to turn the ship around. I won’t keep you from your lives any longer.”

It was like a sonic grenade had gone off in their midst. For a moment, all Bastila could hear was the beating of her own heart.

Mission shot to her feet. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! After all this, you’re really going to abandon Sera just like that?”

Ran was nodding her head approvingly. Zaalbar looked shocked and a little sad.

“I didn’t say that. I’m going to turn the ship over to you and then I am going to take the shuttle and continue on my journey. Nobody is going to be abandoned if I can help it.”

“Are you insane?” Ran yelled. “That thing is barely bigger than a dinghy. It’s suicide!”

Bastila rolled her eyes. “I’ve spent several hours reviewing the technical manual. I’m fairly certain I can attach at least one of the crates to the towing clamp for added storage and possibly for a small living quarters. A barrel of energy capsules should be more than enough to carry me on my way.”

“Yeah, but that’s not accounting for any maintenance you’ll need to do to the engines.” Mission was leaning forward intently, pillow crushed in a death grip in her arms. Her voice was unyielding. “What about when you get sick or there’s damage to the hull or you run out of fuel? Or what that seat’s gonna do to your back or when you gotta pee or what you’re gonna do about your water supply?”

“I… I can haul harvested ice behind the shuttle! I just need time to work out all the details.” Bastila looked the young girl straight in the eye. “You didn’t ask for this, Mission,” she said with quiet intensity. “You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“That’s all very noble,” Ran interjected. She sounded distressed. “But there’s no need to throw yourself into danger like this! You can… you can always turn the ship around as soon as we get within range of a Republic navigational beacon. We can make the rest of the trip in the shuttle. That way you won’t have to abandon your precious… your partner completely. We’ve done the hard bit already. Making it back to the Republic should take no time at all!”

“We’ve been over this already,” Bastila said, massaging her temples. “It will not take ‘no time at all’ to get back to the Republic. We still need to rescout every jump we’ve made to check for anomalies and then we still need to actually find our way back home! This is going to take you a very long time!”

“Well, then, so it takes a long time!” Ran scrubbed a hand over her face. “You, you said that lout of yours had Jedi training, right? She should at least be tough enough to last a few years on a planet on her own, right?”

“I am not going to leave her!”

A soft mass thumped Bastila in the side of the head. She blinked in surprise as she watched Ran get smacked in the face with Mission’s pillow in turn.

“Nobody’s leaving anyone behind, is that understood?” she said, glaring fiercely at the two of them, her pillow held threateningly over her head like a cudgel. She waited until they both nodded their agreement. “Good. Now.” She knelt down in front of Bastila, her face softening as she took Bastila’s hand between her own. “I know I’ve been kind of a mess of late and I know you’ve all been worried but, guys, I’m fine, okay?” She looked around the room, the golden robe slipping from a bare shoulder as she stared at each of them in turn. “And I really appreciate that you’re willing to give us the ship,” she said, turning her attention back to Bastila. “I know this means a lot to you and I know how much you’ve worked and waited just to see Sera again.”

The last shred of Bastila’s composure gave way. Her shoulders shook, tears falling unheeded from her cheeks. Mission’s grip tightened on her hands, firm and warm.

“I can’t abandon her. After everything she’s been through, after everything she’s done for me, standing by me when my father died, when my mother died, not letting me make the same mistakes as she had, doing everything she could to protect me… It doesn’t matter how long it takes, I’d do anything just to feel her in my arms again, to let her know how much she means to me.”

Mission wrapped an arm around her shoulders, wiping the tears away with the corner of her dressing gown. “There, there. It’s all gonna be alright.” She held the damp material up for Bastila to blow her nose on, earning a laugh from her. “That’s better. Nice to see a smile on that face again.”

Bastila pushed her away, reaching for her own handkerchief. “When did you get so mature?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve always been mature,” she said, stowing the wet corner of her dressing gown into her pocket. “And as for your offer, I’m afraid the answer is no. I meant what I said when I told you we’d be right behind you, even if I was mad when I realised what you’d gotten us into.”

Bastila stared at her friend, golden robe in disarray, bare limbs poking out of the wrinkled material at various angles, in awe of the woman she’d grown into. Zaalbar let out a trill, unable to contain his pleased grin.

“Well, it’s up to you,” she said to Ran. “I will not take this ship any further unless we are all in agreement. Shall we continue?”

Ran searched Bastila’s eyes, conflicting emotions playing over her face. Then she inclined her head, ever so slowly.

~~~

The tug indicator glowed green. Bastila shifted the stick, watching The Galactic Star roll gently in time with her shuttle on the viewscreen. She engaged their thrusters, bringing them around to the desired heading.

“Okay, Bastila. You’re looking good here,” Mission’s voice crackled over the comm. “Take us out whenever you’re ready.”

“Just try not to get us all killed, alright?” Ran drawled.

“Will do.” Bastila clicked off the comm and took a deep breath. She held a hand over her heart, feeling the magnetic pull into deep space. “I’m coming, my love.” The stars around her streaked white, shooting them into hyperspace.

*****

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It's done! ToT ToT ToT

Don't know if I'm completely happy with it. I'm torn between preferring some of the simplicity I went for (sort of) and not being certain if I could have gotten a little fancier and more interesting if I weren't almost catatonic when writing whole chunks of this. Regardless, I'm glad it's done. Onto Part 9. Christ!