Two Most Different Jedi

Revan sat in the cool shadows of the plaza, meditating. Or, at least, doing his best at trying to. Meditation was not his favorite practice in the Academy. It required such concentration that Revan did not feel that he had, and here was always something on his mind. Trying to clear his mind was like trying to put out the sun. The more you tried the more you thought of something else.

Honestly, meditation was a pain in the... well, the Master's wouldn't like the language, but he had to say it, a pain in the ass. But it was a challenge, and Revan was determined to overcome his challenges, no matter how much effort it took. Face this challenge he did commonly, for the sake of one day succeeding.

Revan had achieved meditation before, but only with his master's help. Kreia had long ago perfected the art of meditation, for art it was as far as Revan was concerned, something some were talented at others, something others weren't. While in meditation with Kreia he had realized the usefulness of the practice. It had such a cool, relaxing effort on him and he felt more focused, more in-the-now after it then before. Revan knew one day he would achieve it on his own and awaited that day eagerly.

But at this time it seemed almost impossible. He was little good at focusing his mind to such a point that no thoughts entered his consciousness, so that he was pure of mind. How could he, Revan, the student whom Vrook always chided for being distracting and disruptive, ever manage to master such a demanding task as meditation?

How amazingly hard it was to think of nothing.

And this all the while despite having one of the most talented masters in the Academy -- Kreia Derune. Her teachings were unorthodox to say the least, yes that was acknowledged, but she'd trained some of the best students in the Academy, even if they too had ended up being controversial topics. Talented, that was his master. Revan felt like lead weight.

Many called Revan Si-Darlo her most difficult padawan yet, a student with a record for breaking the rules, causing havoc, and being a general nuisance. Some felt that Vrook had dumped the boy on Kreia as a last resort, as if only her unorthodox methods could tame this wild soul.

To an extent I suppose it did work. Revan was still a troublemaker, he loved the thrill of taking risks. But he had also come to be one of the most dedicated students in the Academy and, or so people said in any case, one of its most talented students. And Revan couldn't give the credit to anyone but Kreia.

Revan hated disappointing Kreia (she refused to be called Master Derune or Force-forbid, 'master'). Truly, they were a perfect match of master and apprentice and Vrook had, for once as far as Revan was concerned, chosen well. Kreia always accepted nothing less than Revan's best and was a harsh disciplinitarian when he was slacking. She likewise never chided him for failing when he had done his best. She allowed him to speak his mind and valued his words, though she still was, above all, the master, even if she did not prefer the title.

A bond, like that which forms between close friends or master and apprentice, had grown strong between them. Revan had come to love Kreia, to love her as the mother he never had. Kreia had come to love Revan in return, as her own son. No longer was Revan the underachiever of old. Now he was one of the Academy's top students all the while remaining a troublemaker and an ambitious boy. And that was fine with Kreia. That was how she preferred him, cunning and ready to take risks when he had a plan.

And so he had vastly improved his meditation though he was far from clearly focused. All the noses around him, all the happenings were a constant source of curiosity for him, an insatiable thirst for knowledge which was not warded off by simple and futile attempts of clearing his mind.

That was so especially true today, for sitting not very far away from Revan was a young girl, about six years younger than Revan. She had come here just a few minutes ago, alone. Her sudden arrival was keeping Revan from any hope of success at his meditations.

She was a new apprentice, the padawan learner of the talented Zhar Lestin, a lightsaber duelist and one of the best in the Order at that who knew how to use all three different styles of lightsabers fairly well: short lightsaber, double bladed, and single blade. Many predicted that one day he would grace the Academy's council as one of its members and it was a surprise to some that he had chosen the girl as his first student.

Revan ad never known the girl personally. She was a curious girl, pretty, but seemed to be sad. Revan felt that she was wounded in some way or another, some way that Revan himself could not explain. When he'd first seen her years before as a student without a master he had felt it stronger then. Now it was weakened, but its presence was still there in her heart. And deep down, within her, there was ambition and maybe... Revan was not sure, he could not read anything else but her surface emotions, there was... anger. He was not sure why, but Revan was drawn to this young girl and her desire to succeed, a desire she and Revan both shared.

Her name... Revan was not sure what it was. The fact that Zhar had at last accepted a padawan learner was of course sensational and Revan, with his company of friends and hordes of admirers was one of the first to find out. Everyone was immediately curious to know who was the duelist's young student. But when they had learned it was a girl so young, a girl only ten years old, a girl so recently recruited and so inexperienced. She was said to be talented, to show great potential.

But still... she was so young. Her name had not even become common knowledge. As far as Revan knew she didn't have any real friends, certainly not a horde like the one that he attracted. She was all alone, as far as Revan could tell, and few people cared now that they knew who she was.

Suddenly, Revan remembered her name. It was Bastila. Bastila Shan.

It was at that moment that the girl began to cry.

Revan sighed and lifted himself up off the bench. Good grief. This was too much, he was getting nowhere. He was going to talk to Bastila, fulfill his curiosity, and get back to meditating. No more wasting his time.

He walked slowly towards her.

Bastila was cold.

It was not just the wind, there was not that much of it. Nor was it that the sun was setting for Dantooine was a fairly warm world, warmer than the last one she had lived on. Rather, Bastila felt cold because she was so alone.

She wondered if she had any friends. Any friends. Not really. In all her time at the Academy, in all her time since she first came here four years ago she had never had any real friends. There had been some who had been friendly to her, but mostly just out of sympathy. She was, and she supposed everyone could see it, sad.

She missed her family so much. Especially her father. She was convinced he could not have wanted her to go to the Academy. No, it had to be Mother. Mother who always fought with Father, Mother who was jealous of Father's love for Bastila. Always doting on her, always taking her on the hunts. Mother didn't like it. She never liked fun. That's why she had sent Bastila away.

How Bastila longed to see Father again. To see him, tall and strong, pick her up and swing her around in his arms like the giant he was and then put her on his shoulders and run about the apartment, the ship, the house, wherever they were staying. It hadn't been much, their life, Bastila knew that now. She had seen the Academy, which wasn't exactly full of wealth, and knew that her life had been far from the best to have. But she had had Father. And though she felt anger toward her mother she knew in her heart that she had loved her too.

It was almost too much for Bastila, her torn feelings between love and anger, between loyalty and her desire for independence. Even now, now amongst the Jedi Council the feelings were the same. She had come to appreciate the Jedi Masters, and all their wisdom, wisdom she was never sure she could possess herself. They had shown her so many things that she did not know were even possible, so many possibilities.

And yet... here they were! Trying to control her! Why couldn't people just leave Bastila as she wanted to be? Father, Mother, Jedi, it was no different. The grownups always thought they knew better. Here she was, the circumstances had changed but the rules were the same.

She supposed the Masters knew best but all the same Bastila thought there must be something more than what they were teaching her. She knew there must be something more. She'd seen, during her time at the Academy the relationship between Padawan and Master. It seemed so... bland, for lack of a better word. Many of the Masters were teachers, yes, and usually good ones. But she never seemed to see the Masters reward their apprentices, only to teach them and scold them for their wrongs.

Bastila missed her parents, more than anything. She wondered if ever the emptiness she felt would be filled. She didn't even care anymore if they argued, if they fought. She just wanted to have that special place in their heart that no one here seemed to have for Bastila. Bastila wanted to be loved again.

She knew she'd never see them again. It was impossible. They were always moving around, never staying in one place for long. It would be years before Bastila's training would be complete and by then, she supposed, she would understand the wisdom of the Masters and the reason why limitations on the emotions were necessary.

It would be some time though before the wound healed. Already she'd been here for four years and in those four years she'd remained this way, alone and afraid. No one yet had reached out with friendship to her and her master Zhar Lestin she barely knew. Sure, she knew he was a great swordsman and she thought he must have exciting stories that would make Father's treasure hunts look dim in comparison but she didn't feel any friendship towards him. She needed a Father, a Father she didn't have.

Oh, how she longed to see her parents again.

Bastila began to cry. She didn't mean to but she couldn't control herself anymore. She'd tried for so long to bury her feelings, so the others didn't think less of her, so Master Lestin didn't punish her for not being strong enough. She wanted to succeed, she wanted to show that she didn't need her parents, she wanted to show she didn't need the Masters. But she just couldn't control the emotions flowing through her mind anymore and so she just let go, let her guard down, and didn't even realize someone was there.

She laid down on the bench and wept slowly, letting each sob fill her body and release the pain she'd built up. She tried calming herself, knowing that this was unbecoming of a Jedi but she failed, and the more she tried to concentrate the more another thought swept in, a thought of Mother, of Father, of Master Zhar, whom she wanted to love her more than anything, to feel for her the same way a parent feels for their child.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she leapt up and quickly stopped crying. She wiped the last tears from her eyes and tried to look dignified. She looked at the hand, which had come off her shoulder as soon as she leapt up and looked at the body from which it came.

It was a boy, an older boy, much older than her. She couldn't tell exactly how old he might be but he looked to be somewhere in his later teenage years. He was tall, though not as tall as Father, and had a set of Jedi robes on. Bastila wondered whose apprentice he was.

'Are you okay?' he asked calmly enough. Slowly, Bastila nodded.

'Yes, yes,' she lied. 'I'm fine.'

'You didn't look fine a second ago,' he said, unconvinced. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Yes, I'm sure.'

The boy nodded. Apparently he wasn't going to push the issue. He extended his hand towards her, offering it in a gesture of friendship.

'I'm Revan,' he said. 'What's your name?'

Bastila was unsure what to do. This was the first time someone had been friendly to her straight up. Sure, other students had been interested in playing with her early on but none of them had immediately, upon talking to her for the first time, acted so friendly. Why was this boy different?

She also thought she recognized his name. Revan? Hadn't she heard that name spoken before? Yes, she realized, she had heard many speak it. Most often it was other students who spoke the name, often with interest. Master Zhar had also spoken of him on occasion, but not often. This Revan must be somebody of importance within the Padawan community. Why then did he take an interest in someone like her, who was not integrated at all into the Academy's social circle? Slowly, cautiously, she extended her hand to clasp his.

'B-Bastila,' she said nervously. 'N-nice, to meet, you Revan.'

For a minute Revan looked like he was about to laugh but simply smiled. He showed a great deal of control on that part. Bastila was sure she looked like nothing but a social klutz and fool. She blushed and withdrew her hand.

'I'm sorry,' Revan said, quickly, though he could hardly help from letting out a little chuckle. 'I didn't mean to embarrass you.' He offered his hand again and again she took it. They shook.

'Nice to met you too, Bastila.'

'You mind if I sit down next to you?' Revan asked politely. He didn't want to offend or scare the girl. She seemed so innocent, naïve, and so alone.

'Sure,' she said and scooted over to give him equal room on the bench. Revan sat down beside her. So sweet and innocent she was. Kind of a little cute, in a babyish way, though he resolved not to tell her. That would probably offend her or embarrass her, and possibly both.

'What were you upset about, earlier,' he asked.

'Nothing,' she lied quickly. Her body twitched impulsively and she turned her head away from him shyly. Revan smiled knowingly.

'You're not a very good liar, you know,' he teased. She blushed again. The Force, she did that a lot didn't she? She was so damned shy! Couldn't she tell he was just being friendly and that he was trying to joke with her?

'I'm sorry,' he said again. Why did he apologize so much to this girl? 'It's just that your body twitches and you shy away when you lie. It makes you a bit obvious. Listen, you don't have to worry about telling me. If it's something you're afraid about the Masters listening to then I promise you, I won't tell them, no matter what it is.'

He put his hand on his chest melodramatically and puffed up his chest. 'You have my word of honor as a Jedi.'

She blushed again but she also giggled a little. She then softened and looked at him without fear. Finally, they were getting somewhere. Revan was getting a bit bored with this conversation. It was going nowhere and he needed to practice his meditation some more before Kreia got back. He had already wasted enough time with this girl.

'Alright,' she said. 'But, first, tell me. Why are you interested in me? No one else has been before.'

Revan was surprised at this. Did that meant she didn't have any friends? If that was true she surely was a tragic figure. I mean, surely, she'd been here for four years. Honestly, hadn't anyone tried to be her friend in all that time? She seemed nice enough. He couldn't understand why any of the other young girls in the Academy wouldn't be interested in her.

In response to her question itself, Revan shrugged.

'I'm generally interested in knowing all the students here at the Academy. I like to know who I'm dealing with, that's all.'

'But I've been here for four years, it's not as if you haven't had time to know me.'

'I guess, but really, I don't usually bother with regular students. I'm only really interested in the older students, the padawans, you know.' Even as he said the words Revan realized he was making a mistake. Sithspit, she would think he didn't think she was interesting. I mean, he didn't know anything about her, true, but she was interesting, if only because she was so alone and so young, making her an unusual padawan.

She turned away angrily. Her anger was amazingly strong for someone so young. It shocked Revan a little bit. She certainly had a powerful presence for being so young. He wondered if it had anything to do with her alleged talent in the Force that had been Zhar's reason for adopting her as a padawan despite her youth.

'I didn't mean it like that,' he said. 'Come on, can't you understand? I really can't relate to the younger students. They haven't gone through what I have. I mean, padawans, we just don't really spend time with the younglings.' She didn't turn back.

'Look, I'm sorry,' Revan said finally. 'Is that good?' She turned back to him, she was smiling a little.

'Alright,' she said teasingly. 'I'll forgive you.'

'Good,' Revan said sternly, turning away himself. This was already a little embarrassing. Why did this little girl put him off edge? It was disconcerting to say the least.

A long silence broke out between them.

'I don't like it here,' Bastila said finally, breaking the increasingly uncomfortable quiet.

'Why?' Revan asked, turning towards Bastila with wide eyes. He looked surprised.

'It's too hard,' she replied defiantly. 'I can't do it. The Masters ask to much. I don't know, I don't know anything. I can't do it. They ask too much of me. They want me to be strong but I can't be!'

She felt the heartache of loneliness well up in her again and it took all her effort to control it and force it under. She'd already embarrassed herself. She didn't want to do so again.

The older boy shrugged.

'So they're being a little hard on you,' he said indifferently. 'They do that to everyone. They expect you to be better than you can be. You deal with it. You take comfort in what you have and don't ask for more.' He paused and then smiled.

'And... if they get on your nerves a little too often, well, who's going to blame you for teaching them a lesson for once? Hm?'

Bastila smiled a little at that but though she knew Revan was trying to comfort her she still didn't feel much better. His sense of humor was mildly amusing but... she was still alone.

She felt a sob bury itself in her throat, she sniffed and tried to speak.

'It's not home,' Bastila said finally, silent tears welling up in her eyes. 'I miss home. I miss daddy. I miss mommy. I want to go back to them. I've been gone for so long. They might not even remember me and...'

She broke down at that point and began crying again. She hated herself for being so weak. Vrook, Zhar, all the others, they'd all told her she had to keep control of her emotions. Somehow though she failed every time. And every time she was scolded again for her failure to succeed. And when they scolded her she only grew more upset and when she grew more upset they scolded her again.

Why couldn't she have Father? Why had Mother sent her away?

She realized she was leaning on Revan as she sobbed and leapt up. Revan clasped her hand and looked at her with astonishment, curiosity, and maybe a little envy in his eyes.

'You knew your parents?' he asked.

Bastila sniffed and wiped her eyes a little, though a few silent tears drifted down her face.

'Y-yes...'

Revan turned away suddenly, surprising Bastila. He looked sad.

'I never knew my parents,' he said quietly. 'I didn't know any Jedi did. I mean... I know others have memories of them, but... I didn't know that anybody had clear memories.'

Bastila felt guilty. She'd hurt this boy who'd been trying to heal her wounds. She felt foolish and selfish now. All this time she'd been worrying about her problems and never assumed anybody else had their own to worry about. She touched his arm.

'I... I'm sorry, Revan. I didn't mean to upset you.' He didn't turn back yet and his face had a stone cold expression on it.

'I really am! I'm sorry. Please, don't be mad at me.'

Revan turned back to her slowly and shook his head.

'It's nothing, Bastila, no apology necessary.' He sighed.

'It's just...,' he began, seemingly trying to work out what he wanted to say. 'It's just... I feel so sorry for you. I mean, I wish I'd known my parents. I'm sure they loved me. I mean, I really don't know much about them. I was told they were killed before I joined the Order and I always thought little of it. I mean, I'd never known them so, how could I miss them?

'But for you... I mean, you knew them. You knew them before you joined the Order. You have clear memories of them. It must be...' He paused and shook his head. 'It must be unbearable for you. How can you take all that in, to know your parents, to love them, and then... to be torn from them? It seems so hard.

'If I was torn from my master, I... I don't know what I'd do.' He lowered his head sadly.

Bastila was surprised. Revan was sorry for her? No one she'd known had ever given a second thought to her situation. No one had understood how she felt. And how could he, never even having any memories of his parents? How could he understand what she was going through when he'd never been there himself?

And who was his master? He sounded so close to them, whoever they were. She'd never seen a padawan who loved their master so?

'Revan...' she asked slowly. 'Who is your master?'

Revan smiled a little bit and looked up at her. 'That toughest piece of work I've ever seen. She can take anything! I mean it, anything. She's been through so much. She's trained multiple apprentices, all some of the most talented in the entire Order! She's seen so much too, she even fought the Sith in the war!'

Bastila's eyes went wide. The Sith! She didn't know anyone who'd fought the Sith! She supposed Master Vrook might have and surely Vandar had played a part in that war, being so old, but she'd never heard stories about the Sith in anything but the most wild ghost stories and nightmares of the young children at the Academy. She wondered how many stories this woman had who was Revan's master.

He laughed a little too and his melancholy tone was completely gone by now. 'She works you like a kaadu too, count yourself fortunate that she's not your master,' he remarked. 'I mean, I have learned so much from her, but really, does she push you! It's always 'do this', 'do that' or 'rely on your own strength', on and on. And you'd better listen! I mean...' He chuckled a little bit and then wandered off in speech. He looked at Bastila curiously.

'You know, it's strange,' he said matter of factually. 'I've only been talking to you for a few minutes and I go rambling on about Kreia. Huh.' He sat back and looked at the sky.

'What about you Bastila?' Revan asked. 'How's Master Zhar? He's supposed to be a talented duelist from what I've heard, one of the best in the entire Order. He must be an exciting teacher.'

Bastila looked down at the ground a little, unsure of what to say.

'Well,' she began. 'I really don't know. But so far he doesn't seem much different that the other Masters. He seems kind of withdrawn and unemotional. He seems kind, and he likes to see me at work but...'

She sighed. 'I don't want a teacher. I want a friend." She stopped and looked away.

"I want daddy back,' she said quietly.

Revan nodded knowingly.

'You know,' he said quietly. 'To my knowledge, most Jedi Masters are like that. Kreia I guess is different. There's others like her. I mean, I've heard the Sunriders are that way and so are a few others. I've even heard of a brash adventurer from the war, apparently someone Kreia knew, named Jolee Bindo. Apparently he was the most unusual of all.

'But for the most part, a lot of Jedi Masters are like that. They just... they just don't like showing emotion. Kreia says it's because they're afraid. That they're afraid because so many Jedi fell during the war that no one wants to risk anything. The older Jedi tend to be different, they've been the way they have been for centuries. Vrook is a bit different in that respect, he tends to see things the new way and. But most of them are dead by now. Vandar is one of the few still left.'

Revan shrugged. 'You get used to it after a while. They don't want to show emotion, fine, that's okay with me. Just so long as they let me be me. Still, I can see how it might be lonely for you. But at least you still have your friends.'

The casual remark stung Bastila. She knew Revan meant well but it only brought back the memories of her painful years here at the Academy. She turned away from him and felt the emotions flowing up again.

There is no emotion, there is peace... there is no emotion, there is peace...

Revan saw Bastila turned away and realized, once again, he'd made a mistake. Was there no end to this girl's suffering? She didn't have any friends? Revan felt more pity for Bastila now than ever.

'Wait...,' he said suddenly, realizing the truth. 'You don't have friends? Oh, Bastila, that's... that's..." Revan felt at a loss for words. The situation was so incredible. No friends... how was that possible?

"Teribble!" Revan finally said angrily. "I mean, you've been here for what, four years? Surely somebody must have made friends with you by then?'

Bastila shrugged.

'Some tried,' she replied sadly. 'When I first arrived. And there's a few I still talk to though now and then. But I was scared. I didn't know anybody, I didn't know anything. And I missed my parents.'

She sounded really upset at this point and Revan put his arm around her.

'I guess they thought I was boring,' she said finally. 'Some still talk to me and stuff... but I think it's just because they feel sorry for me.'

Revan touched Bastila's chin and made her look up at him.

'Bastila,' he said comfortingly. 'I'm sure you are a great girl to know if people give you the chance. So you were a little scared. Who can blame you? You went through a lot. You were taken away from your parents and brought to the Order. So you didn't face it bravely and without fear? So what?

'Bastila, let me in on a little secret... a little fear does no harm. Letting that fear control you, that's an entirely different matter. But just a little fear? Not in my experience.' Revan felt the words come out of his mouth without meaning to speak them. Now what? He sounded like he was a teacher! This was getting ridiculous. But he saw that it was working on Bastila and she already looked less glum. He mentally shrugged off then and supposed that if he could comfort the little girl than it didn't matter how ridiculous he thought he sounded.

'All you need to be is a little more confident, a little bit optimistic. People like that. Just show them you want to be there friend, just show them you're willing to make a commitment, and look on the bright side of things and you're guaranteed to win a few friends.

'And Master Zhar?' he shrugged. 'I think Master Zhar is going to surprise you. In my experience he's quite a friendly guy. Give him a chance. I'm sure it will work out.' He took Bastila's hand, which felt small compared to his, and placed it between his hands.

'And Bastila,' he said quietly, grinning a little bit. 'I don't know how much this means to you but I'll be your friend if you need me to be.'

Suddenly, and without warning Bastila leaped on him and hugged him with all her might. Revan blushed a little bit, embarrassed by the fact that he must look so ridiculous being hugged by a little girl half his height. He didn't let it show too much, and let his emotional control take over.

'Thank you,' she said. Revan smiled. Well, all in all, no matter how kiddy she was, he'd liked helping her out. At least now he could get back to meditating, and hopefully get it done before Kreia arrived.

He got up off of the bench and let Bastila's arms slide off him. 'Well, nice to meet you Bastila,' he said conclusively. 'I'd better be going though. I wouldn't want to miss out on my exciting breakthroughs in meditation now would I?'

He winked. 'Kreia would have to punish me soundly if I did.'

He began to walk away but heard Bastila call out to him.

'Wait.'

He turned around and looked at her. She looked hopefully at him.

'Wait,' she repeated pleadingly. 'Please, stay here. For a while. It makes me more comfortable.'

'I have to go,' he said. He didn't say that he'd already wasted a lot of his allotted time to spend at meditation. He didn't feel that

would make the situation any easier, especially since he'd spent the last few minutes comforting this girl's fears and worries.

'Please, just for a little while,' she replied. 'If you'd like, we could meditate together.' She sounded hopeful and her eyes looked painfully at Revan. He sighed and walked back to the bench and sat down beside her again. He supposed it wouldn't harm him to meditate beside her.

As Revan again sat down beside Bastila she looked at him. She hadn't been lying. His mere presence soothed her troubled emotions. She felt so much safer with him beside her, so much more confident. For four long years she'd endured the pain of loneliness and this boy had given her hope and confidence where before she was lost in the memories of her past.

Where masters praised her for trying her best to follow the rules to the letter, the other initiates had made fun of her and neglected her. This was the first time that someone didn't mind the fact that the Masters appreciated her talent. The first time someone didn't hold against her what others thought of her.

She didn't know how to explain it but Bastila wanted this moment to last a little longer. For him to give her some last additional strength before they parted ways. And then, then she would be ready to make friends on her own. He hadn't really taught her anything, but his support, the support not even Master Zhar had given her, was enough to give her confidence all on her own.

'Alright, then,' he told her. 'But be quiet. Meditation requires a lot of discipline, something I'm not exactly known for. Any distraction will immediately throw me off. I need the utmost quiet. Do you understand?'

She nodded and then turned away and crossed her legs gently over the bench. She peeked a glance at Revan, who had turned inwards himself and was crossing his legs, meditating or beginning to. She turned away again and closed her eyes and tried to clear all things from her mind.

She felt the thoughts of Father and Mother drift away. Her feelings about Master Zhar and the other Jedi teachers were washed away in a pleasant feeling of bliss. She cleansed herself of her worries and fears of failure and of humiliation by the other students. She closed off all her emotional trauma. All that was left was Revan.

Revan felt the Force move through him, felt his mind come to a rest. It was easier than it had been earlier, now that he was no longer concerned with Bastila's presence. He was at peace and he felt all his thoughts drift away.

It was strange, Revan thought, listening to the Force around him. They were so similar in ways and yet still two most different Jedi. Revan was so confident, so self-assured. Bastila seemed timid, shy, unsure of herself. Revan had a whole collection of friends and followers. Bastila hadn't yet made one true friend. It was curious then that they would be so similar in underlying ways.

They both wanted more than the Order gave them. Revan was sure of this, he could feel the ambition waving off Bastila, the desire to succeed that he too possessed. But it wasn't quite the same. Revan felt the desire for power and knowledge so that he could constantly improve himself, constantly better his abilities. Bastila seemed to be lacking something, as though she instead was looking for a cause, for a reason to exist, something she was sorely deprived of. It was sad, Revan thought, that so obviously talented a girl to have been chosen at such a young age was so unsure about her abilities.

And Revan wanted from the Order something that many of the Masters would deny him. He was denied love, which was something he desired with all his heart. Fortunately he had found Kreia, and she had taken a place in a heart filled by no other person, not even by Malak. To Revan, she was more than just a teacher. She was a leader, an idol, a representation of all he hoped for.

Bastila had not yet found someone like this for her. It may have been her parents, from what Revan guessed, but she had left them long ago and surely would never see them again. It was such then that she needed to find someone else to put her hopes in, her confidence in. She too desire the love of another, but unlike Revan she had not found it yet.

Revan pitied her and envied her at the same time. He pitied her for the pain she surely must be going through, the pain of losing those she was closest too. But he also was jealous of the fact that she at least had a history. Revan's earliest memories were of the Enclave, of the Jedi Masters watching him grow. He wanted to be part of the experience of having a family, something that even Kreia had been given to a small extent, though she, like Revan, had been an orphan when brought to the Order.

Revan wondered. What then, did the future hold for Bastila? She'd been singled out at such an early age, been given so much potential and yet was being held back by the foolish restrictions of the Order. She should have friends, should have allies, like Revan. She deserved respect but so far had only been mocked by the other students around her. Revan wondered.

He felt Bastila next to him, and through the Force felt her breathing. He let her breathing serve as a rhythm to the slow transgression of his mind into peace, and the calm serenity that flowed through it as he passed into meditation. And together, they found something they had been lacking for some time.

Peace.