Revan's Shadow: Chapter Three

"You're lucky I don't play for credits, you old geezer."

Carth frowned at the side deck in his hand. By now he was used to Mission's cracks about his advanced age from her teen perspective, but his consistant failure to win even a single hand of pazaak against the young rogue was beginning to frustrate him. Obtena had suggested keeping her occupied, but he was starting to suspect that asking Mission to teach him how to play the game may not have been worth the aggravation.

Obtena's voice had been cold when she asked; she was still angry. Hell, he was almost as angry with himself as she was...

With a resigned sigh, he pulled another card from the main deck and laid it down with the others on his side of the table. He blinked, then checked his math. "Hah!" he exclaimed. "Nineteen!"

"Lucky draw," Mission agreed, unphased.

You're going to need some real scoundrel's luck to get exactly twenty, kid."

Carth grinned as he watched the Twi'lek bite back her traditional retort whenever anyone called her a kid. "You'll stand on nineteen?" she asked instead.

"Damn straight, I'll stand."

Mission smirked, blew on the tips of her fingers and drew a card from the main deck. Her new total came to twenty-two.

"Bust!" Carth declared, slapping the tabletop.

"Not so fast." With all the style she could muster, Mission pulled a +/-2 card from the side deck in her hand and smacked it down, the minus side facing her last card on the table, bringing her total down to twenty.

Carth slumped back in his chair. "I don't believe it."

"Maybe that's why you keep losing," Mission said as matter-of-factly as she could.

"It's Obtena's side deck!" Carth decided, waving the cards about accusingly. "She hasn't got as many of those plus/minus cards as you have, and I never deal any of the good ones!"

"Obtena admitted her side deck's not up to spec yet, but you'll never learn how to play if it's too easy to win."

"It's too easy for you to win. Maybe I should stop boring you and quit, let Zaalbar provide you with a challange."

The Wookiee looked up from the other side of the room, where he was piecing together a grenade, and replied with a grumbling growl. Carth looked to Mission with raised eyebrows. "He said to leave him out of this," she giggled. "Big Z and I have been hanging around together long enough for him to know better, y'know?"

"Let it never be said that I can't follow a Wookiee's example, then," Carth said with a nod to Zaalbar, then looked back at Mission. "I guess I won't be pulling your arms off, either. Unless you were cheating..." he added, eyes sparkling with humour as they narrowed.

"Me? Cheat? Against you??" Mission exclaimed in mock affront. "As if I'd have to, old man!"

"I just hope I'm there the day Obtena wins a match, that's all I'm saying," Carth said as he began to tidy up Obtena's cards. Mission watched him intently for a moment.

"Carth?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for the effort."

The pilot grinned again. "No problem."

Mission stood, stretched, then patted a gizka on the head when it noticed her moving and cooed for affection. There must have been a couple dozen hopping around the ship by now. Canderous had mentioned one of the vendors by the spaceport sold poison specifically for gizka, but noone had bought any yet. Perhaps everyone had silently agreed with her that they were too cute to kill. Except the Mandalorian of course; he'd probably say there would be no honour or challange in killing such weak, defenceless creatures.

Wondering how much of a nuisance a gizka would have to be before Canderous stooped so low as to kill one, Mission wandered over to his usual spot. He was leaning against the swoop bike they had brought with them from Taris, polishing a purple breastplate. The Mandalorian had dragged the crimelord Davik's corpse into the Ebon Hawk and waited until they were safely away from the Sith fleet bombarding Taris, before stripping off the armor and ejecting the body into space once they'd reached the Dantooine system.

Though she'd never admit it (well, maybe to Obtena), the Mandalorian spooked her. She had heard plenty of tales about their merciless exploits during their war against the Republic, before Revan defeated them. Canderous was even older than Carth, but he was a good deal bigger. With that heavy blaster weapon he always toted around, he was an even more intimidating sight than her Wookiee companion.

He glanced at her without pausing in his work, and said nothing. She nearly kept walking, but stopped as she remembered Obtena's ability to get along with people. It was a handy skill that Mission wouldn't mind learning. Perhaps a neutral topic to start with...

"Do we have to leave the ramp down?" she asked, looking over to where the heat of the desert planet shimmered across the dusty ground beyond. "It's hot enough baking in the ship, without actually letting the heat in."

"The Hawk doesn't have a doorbell," Canderous' voice grated. "We wouldn't want to lock the Princess Trio out if we have to make a quick getaway, now, would we?"

"I'll be glad when they come back," Mission said, sliding herself up to sit upon the side of the swoop, and doing her best to ignore Canderous' glare. "I hope Griff isn't in too much trouble when they find him."

"Your brother doesn't sound like an honourable man," Canderous opined. He didn't come out and say that he thought looking for Griff was a waste of time, but it was obviously what he meant. This was the closest Canderous ever came to tact.

"You think I shouldn't bother looking for him? He's my brother!" Canderous stared at her, not understanding why that made a difference; what good was a brother - in arms or in blood - if he had no honour? "Griff may have his faults, but I can't just forget he exists." Mission lapsed into silence when it became clear Canderous wasn't getting it, then tried a different tack. "Obtena thinks we should find him."

"Yes," Canderous admitted. "But she doesn't have any illusions about what kind of man he is. She's only doing it because you want to do it. Maybe she feels obligated for dragging you along on this quest." He paused as he put on the armor chestplate, testing its size. Davik had been smaller than Canderous, but he had finished modifying it and it fit well enough. "At least she had the sense to leave you behind. With you constantly griping about your brother you'd probably make a mistake in battle and get her killed."

"Would not," Mission huffed, then appraised Canderous' new look with a critical eye. "You know, for a big strong tough Mandalorian, you look kind of... silly in purple." Canderous gave her a venemous look and pulled the chestplate off. "You should have modified it for me. Blue and purple would go together so much better..."

"It's too heavy for you and too hot out there to wear it, anyway," Canderous decided, as if Mission's statement hadn't been entirely accurate, before changing the subject. "Tatooine is one big desert with rocks sticking out. I'd heard that some of my people had come here after the war, but I don't know what happened to them." Canderous grew still as his eyes glazed over with memory. "The world of my clan, Ordo, was much like this one - dust basins and rock crags - but my world at least had some green around the equator. This place is just sand all over."

"The only green I ever saw on Taris were plants in pots. Or slimy Rodians. I can't wait to see Kash's trees. Maybe when we get there Big Z will finally tell us what trouble he left behind. And if it's still there, well, what better way to come back to it than with a bunch of friends like us?"

Canderous shrugged. "I don't consider most of you friends, but that doesn't mean I won't stand by the Wookiee when the time comes. Obtena is the only one on this ship who is friendly to me at all. The 'soldier' still gets grumpy whenever we're in the same room, and the Cathar..." He rolled his eyes.

"Why do you call Carth that?"

"It's something he made a big deal about, on Dantooine. The difference between a soldier, and a warrior like myself. I conqour, while he protects the innocent from people like me. Not that protecting the innocent can't be a worthy cause, if they're truly worthy of the effort..." Canderous frowned. He had never considered the Republic chattel to be as worthy as the Jedi who had eventually been the cause of their downfall in the war, but for a moment he could almost empathize with Carth. He wasn't used to it, and it bothered him. Must be thinking too much. Probably Obtena's fault.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't take it personally. Setting aside the fact that you two were on opposite sides in that war, he's got other problems. I think the only time he's not grumpy is when Obtena is in the room. Well, most of the time."

"Hmph, so you noticed that too. Too bad she's not so interested."

"In Carth?"

"In men."

"Oh." Mission had seen enough on Taris not to be totally surprised by this revelation, but it was news to her. For as long as she had known them, Obtena and Carth had been getting on each others' nerves in a friendly way, and Mission had assumed they were together. Then Obtena had to become a Jedi, and she'd figured Carth had been so angry lately because it meant they'd be breaking up. She'd never heard of Jedi having boy/girl-friends, and sneaking around in the enclave on Dantooine had confirmed it.

"She isn't the only one, either..." Canderous added. Mission turned to follow his gaze and watched as Juhani paced up the loading ramp. She slipped off the swoop to greet her as the Mandalorian finished his thought. "...makes you wonder exactly what the Jedi get up to in their temples and enclaves, heh." The teenage Twi'lek shot Canderous an imitation of his own glare, having no doubt exactly how dirty the Mandalorian's thoughts were on the trio of Jedi women which whom they travelled. Juhani glanced at him warily before her attention was redirected.

"What's that?" Mission asked, looking at the bundle Juhani carried with unbridled curiousity.

"We were attacked by dark Jedi-"

"Dark Jedi?" Carth interrupted as he walked in. "Is Obtena okay? Bastila?"

Juhani smirked in response to the focus of his concern, and the afterthought. "They are fine. Bastila's mother is in Anchorhead. They are going to find her right now."

"Any news of Griff?" Mission asked, and saw the Cathar's face fall. "What? What is it?"

"Czerka believes he has been captured by a violent indigenous race known as Sand People. They have been attacking Czerka and its employees ever since they arrived on the planet. Try not to worry, Mission; he is probably still alive."

"We have to go rescue him!" Mission cried. "We can't just leave him with those... those monsters!"

"We will, Mission." Juhani quietly assured her. "We have already obtained permission to leave Anchorhead. I am sure Obtena will come up with a plan as soon as she has made sure the rest of the settlement is safe."

Beaming with relief, Mission surprised Juhani with an impulsive hug. "I knew I could count on you guys! There's definitely fringe benefits for being friends with Jedi." She heard Canderous' short sharp bark of a laugh behind her, but ignored it.

*

Obtena and Bastila were standing outside the cantina, where a grumpy Duros had met a human female he'd described as a rancor. The fact that Bastila believed it to be a decent description of her mother didn't exactly ease Obtena's mind. "Do you want to talk before we do this?" she asked.

Bastila hesitated before she spoke. "It's... strange. To hear news after all this time is quite distracting. I'm not looking forward to seeing her... but I can't help wondering what she wants. Perhaps..." she turned away from the cantina door, folding her hands behind her back to keep herself from fidgeting nervously. "Perhaps we have better things to do."

Obtena raised an eyebrow at her. "In all the galaxy, Mission's brother and your mother are on one of the four planets we have to visit; one of which is Zalbaar's homeworld. You don't really believe it's an extraordinary coincidence, do you. Even I have to admit it seems like the Force wants this, however it turns out."

"I know," Bastila admitted. "It's just... I can't see this going well. I'm worried about how this will affect me."

"Just remember I'm with you," Obtena told her. She watched Bastila's expression show that she wasn't sure Obtena being with her was a good thing, sighed, then took her by the wrist and led her inside. Bastila didn't say 'oh dear' but the bond made the sentiment behind the phrase easy enough to read from her.

The cantina was a cool, dark respite from the heat outside. It took the pair a moment for their eyes to grow accustomed to the lack of light, but Helena Shan was hardly difficult to spot. The other patrons were giving the human rancor a wide berth. As the Jedi approached her, Obtena noted she wasn't as ugly as a rancor, though her skin was certainly pinched and wrinkled. If Bastila was any indication, it was her personality that had earned her the nickname.

"Yes?" the grey-haired woman stated imperiously, then noticed their attire and looked closely at each of them in turn. "Do I know you?" she asked Bastila, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

"It's me, mother. You don't recognise me?" Bastila replied.

"What do you expect when I haven't so much as had a picture of you since you left? Have you any idea how long I've been waiting for you to find us?" Helena stopped short, then said in a quieter voice, "Me?"

"You knew as well as I that communication would be impossible once I joined the order. If our paths hadn't crossed like this... what is this about? Where is father?"

"Then you don't know," Helena said, the superiority slipping from her voice. "I thought perhaps you had come because you were aware, somehow..."

"Has something happened to him?" Helena opened her mouth but faltered, and Obtena felt her - felt Bastila's heart leap up her throat - no, perhaps in this case it was both of them. "Are you going to tell me or not?" Bastila pressed.

"Your father is dead, Bastila," Helena spoke gently.

The blood drained from Bastila's face as cold shock set in. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible above the murmered conversations around them and the music in the background. "Dead? What happened? What did you do to him!"

"Tsk. Isn't this a lovely reunion. Already, she's flinging insults at me." Helena turned to Obtena. "Tell me; you're one of her friends. Do you treat your mother this way?"

The question seemed to jolt Bastila back to full awareness. Obtena had been trying to keep to the background, intending to keep out from between two infuriating women, but now she stepped up to the table. "My mother is long dead, if you must know," she spoke as neutrally as she could.

"Is that so?" Helena responded, her tone implying she didn't really care. "Well, I'll be joining her soon enough I suppose..." Obtena frowned, but was cut off before she could say any more. Her companion had suddenly gone from shocked to angry.

"I was told you were ill," Bastila said. "Are you actually dying, or is this just melodrama for my benefit?"

"Such sweet things you say," Helena sighed sarcastically. "Perhaps I should tell you everything first, before we keep arguing-"

Bastila's voice was tight as she growled, "You can start by telling me how you got father killed."

Even in the low light, Helena's cheeks visibly flushed in anger. "I hadn't realized Jedi were so spiteful. You want me to tell you I brought your father all the way out here, do you? You want to blame me for his death? You never accepted that your father loved going on his treasure hunts, leaving you alone with me. I was always to blame for everything! What else is new?" Finally running out of breath, she forced herself to stop before continuing in a more measured tone. "So yes, fine; your father and I came here to hunt for krayt dragon pearls. He took an expedition into the desert east of here, and he died."

"How can you be sure? Father is an experienced hunter-"

"Do you think I would believe it if I wasn't sure?" Helena snapped. "They were attacked by a krayt dragon and one of the guides fled the battle. He saw your father killed!"

Bastila's shoulders sagged. "I see. So... what do you want from me?"

"I want you to use those Jedi senses of yours. I want you to find him. I want you to bring back his holocron."

"Why, so you can sell it?"

"Is it too much to ask that I have something to remember him by? Of course it is, isn't it?" Obtena detected genuine pain in Helena's voice at this, but Bastila was too busy hurting herself to notice. "You can't be bothered about my feelings! I loved your father too, girl!"

"We are very busy on a mission from the Jedi council," Bastila told her mother, glancing at Obtena. "I doubt I'll have the time."

Bastila's heart was breaking from the news of her father's death, her grief humming across their bond, and Obtena wasn't surprised that she would retreat behind her Jedi status. She could feel the struggle between her sorrow and her training. "Don't you want to find your father's remains, Bastila?" she interjected as softly as she could.

"What remains would there be? Krayt dragons are huge predators, easily able to devour a human whole, and the desert is a harsh environment. Finding my father's remains would be an even more impossible task than finding his holocron... an ignoble end to a fine man..."

"What about your mother's illness?"

"It doesn't seem to have anything to do with what she's asking." She turned back to Helena. "Are you actually sick, mother?"

Helena snorted. "What difference does it make to you? None, I'm sure. Just find your father's holocron, and you won't have to worry about me again, either way."

"That's the kind of response I expected. Well, we'll look for the holocron if we have time. I can't promise any more than that." She turned and walked away as Helena opened her mouth to speak again and was left hanging. Obtena followed her out of the cantina.

Once they were back in the suns, Obtena tried to comfort Bastila, but the grieving padawan flinched away from her touch. There was an immediate twinge of regret, however. Their silent communication made it clear that while she did consider such physical connections to be inappropriate, she appreciated the effort; but she wasn't ready to deal with it yet. And... she doesn't want my pity, Obtena felt. Alright then. With a nod, she motioned on towards the gates of the city. Bastila nodded in response, and the pair set off once more.