Revan's Shadow: Chapter Twelve - En Route to Kashyyyk

Obtena walked into the main hold to find Juhani meditating in her usual corner. "Are you conscious?" she quietly enquired, not wanting to 'wake' her if she was not.

"I am," the Cathar replied, opening her eyes. Obtena hummed in satisfaction as she poured herself a fresh cup of caff. Juhani watched.

"You do that a lot, don't you?" Obtena asked. "Watching everyone from the background. I think only Big Z outranks you when it comes to keeping quiet."

"On the contrary, I have spoken with most of the crew. Zaalbar included."

"Oh? I only ever noticed you speaking with Bastila or Carth. Does your species have a tendancy for solitude?"

Juhani rose and joined the padawan on the modular couch. "In all honesty, I know little of my heritage. I have told you that the conditions in which I was raised were less than favourable. That may be the only cause for my discomfort with groups. Of course, there is the Mandalorian..." she almost growled the name.

"Why are you so hostile towards Canderous? He's proven himself to be a valuable member of the group."

"I do not trust him. I have never trusted his race. They drove my parents from Cathar, aided the Sith and attacked the Republic. Their warped notions of 'honour' may provoke them into even more heinous acts. I do not know why you tolerate his presence on your ship. He has had some merit so far, but I am not certain it is worth the risk you take. We have both listened to his stories of former glory, and it proves nothing except that he is eager to return to those ways."

"Well, I'm fairly sure there aren't enough Mandalorians left in the galaxy to mount another crusade. They're scattered, and if the ones on Dantooine were any indication, many have... lost their way, for lack of a better expression. Perhaps you shouldn't judge Canderous by the previous behaviour of the Mandalorians."

Juhani considered this, then nodded reluctantly. "This one man has proven... acceptable, so far. But his kind may yet prove to be a danger to the galaxy again. Keep your distance from him and watch him, so that he does not betray us."

"I studied the Mandalorian war during my training on Dantooine. There is a code of honour buried under all that atrocity. I think Canderous has realised on some level that Malachor was the last great battle his people will ever know. His honour is all he has left. I suspect he'll be trustworthy for as long as this quest of ours takes. As long as there are worthy battles ahead. Though to be honest, I think he's also as curious about the Starforge as we are." Obtena sipped her drink as Juhani brooded over her words. "Have you spoken with him?" she suddenly asked.

Juhani blinked with shock at the question. "Spoken to him? No! No, I could not. Mandalorians are vicious of temper and easily provoked. I worry whenever Mission is around him, that she well go too far. I... I would not want to tempt his wrath..." Obtena observed with surprise as the Cathar's fur visibly rippled. "I am sorry. It is just that I cannot stand to be around him for very long. I suppose I do not really dislike him, it is just... the Mandalorians overran my world, slaughtered my race. I cannot forget what they have done. Or forgive."

"Forgiveness... I don't envy you your situation, Juhani," Obtena admitted. "You try to walk the blade's edge between your Cathar nature and your Jedi calling. Perhaps that is why Quatra went so far as to drive you to the dark side; in which case, she may be far wiser than I give her credit for. Striving for that balance is worth the effort." A pause, another sip. "Canderous provokes strong emotions in you: anger, fear, hatred. That won't change unless you do." She finished her drink and rose to her feet. "Consider speaking with him," she advised before returning the cup to its place. "Oh. I wanted to ask... I know you rest when you meditate like that, but do you ever actually sleep?"

Juhani smiled faintly. "I do, but the meditation allows me to sleep less often, or for less time, than most. I suppose I don't sleep so much as nap."

"Cath-naps. Well, good. I know meditation is good for things, but it can't be good never to sleep."

"I appreciate your concern, and your advice. I shall consider what you have said." Obtena nodded and headed for the cockpit, but Juhani's eyes followed her for some time after she was gone.

The opportunity to follow Obtena's advice arose only two hours later. Juhani was playing hide and seek with the little stowaway girl, and it was her turn to seek when she heard the girl cry out in surprise and fear. She sped to the source of the noise to find Canderous holding her by the back of the neck over the swoop bike. Behind him, his heavy repeater lay in several pieces on the tech table.

"Put her down, Canderous," Juhani told him. He said nothing, merely frowning at the screaming child he held. "You're scaring her, put her down!"

Canderous glanced at her, then did as she asked. The girl ran into Juhani's embrace and began to bawl her eyes out. "She was curled up under the seat of the swoop," he grated. "What was she doing there?"

"Hiding. We were playing hide and seek."

"Oh." He continued to watch them, the frown still on his face. "She speaks Mandalorian," he finally offered.

"What?"

"Badly. She started cursing when I grabbed her. It sounds like she's mixed it with Basic."

"She is not Mandalorian," Juhani growled.

Canderous snorted. "Of course not. She's only a few years old, right? Republic standard, I mean. She must have been taken recently, when she was still learning to speak."

"As what? A slave!?"

"Probably." Canderous observed Juhani's glare a moment. "We treat our slaves better than most cultures. Some rise to become worthy warriors..." He was about to say more, but decided against it. It was against his Mandalorian upbringing to share his culture with outsiders. The fact that his culture had been all but annihilated made following the old ways more important, not less.

"That does not change the fact that you steal them from the lives they should have had," Juhani said, less emotional now. This did not go by Canderous unnoticed.

"Is that what the Force says? Whatever happens, happens for a reason? Fate? Maybe all the people we ever took were meant to become slaves." He crossed his arms and matched Juhani's stare with his own. "I've seen enough Jedi from both sides to know the Force isn't a power for good or evil. That's always up to the people who use it. That's the first thing Revan learned, I think, when she fought us."

His words caused Juhani's calm resolve to waver. "And what do you think my people learned when you destroyed our homeworld?" she spat.

"How to die well," Canderous answered with a shrug before turning his steely gaze on the stowaway girl still sniffling and trembling in the Cathar's arms. He barked an order in his own language. The girl jumped, but stopped crying. He spoke again, and she slowly turned to face him. Another order. This time, she answered. "That's her name. Sasha," he told Juhani.

"...Ask her where her home is."

Canderous asked, and got an answer that made him frown again. Another exchange of words. "What did she say?" Juhani asked.

"She said the compartment in the cargo hold where she sleeps is home. I asked her before that. She doesn't remember."

"How did she get aboard the ship?"

The response to the question caused Canderous' eyebrows to go in the opposite direction, this time. "She followed us back after we killed the Mandalorians that took her."

"Dantooine?"

The girl blinked. "Dan-too-een," she repeated.

"Well then. I guess we know where to drop her off," Canderous reasoned before he returned to the heavy repeater maintainance he had been engrossed in before the interruption. Juhani picked Sasha up to carry her back to the port cargo hold, pausing only to look back at the Mandalorian. He was already tinkering again, obviously not expecting thanks. Was that the cultural norm for his people, or did he not expect any gratitude from this crew?

She hesitated, then spoke, "Thanks."

"Hm," Canderous replied.

It wasn't until after Juhani left that the comment sunk in. He looked back to where she had been, shrugged to himself and went back to work.

*

Obtena entered the medbay as Zaalbar was starting to move around. He whuffed a greeting as he stretched before noticing the serious expression on her face, and asked what was wrong.

"You know that Kashyyyk is one of the worlds we have to visit." Zaalbar nodded, suddenly dreading her next words. "We will arrive at your homeworld in just under a day."

"A day..." the Wookiee sat back down on the bed. "My home... I should have prepared you... but then, I don't think I've prepared myself."

Obtena stepped closer beside him. "Meaning?" She asked quietly, and watched as he chose his words carefully.

"I didn't leave Kashyyyk voluntarily. Mission may have told you I was fleeing slavers, but there was more. I am an exile. I was only taken after I had been forced to leave my home village, about twenty years ago."

"Is it something you can tell me?"

"My brother made deals with the slavers that allowed them to get a foothold on our world. When I found out, I attacked him. The fight was stopped, but my father would not believe me when I told him about my brother's actions." He raised his hands, looking down at them as if repulsed. "When I attacked my brother... I was so mad, I... I used my claws." Zaalbar closed his eyes a moment, then dropped his hands back to his lap and faced Obtena. "You must understand this... our claws are tools, not weapons. To use them in battle is to become an animal. It is madness without honour. I am forever a madclaw among my people. Nothing I say can be trusted. They were right to cast me out."

Obtena put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I understand. The concept of Jedi that have fallen to the dark side of the Force is a similiar thing. But Jedi that have fallen can be redeemed, Zaalbar, so I must believe you can be, too."

"I don't have much hope."

"Time will tell. It usually does," Obtena assured him. They sat silently for a moment. "Your brother sounds like a real baz nitch."

"What is a baz nitch?"

"It's from a planet called Dathomir. About two feet tall, kind of a cross between an insect and a flightless bird, and the most unpleasant creature I've ever come across." Zaalbar nodded silently; apparently he agreed with the comparison, but was unwilling to speak it. "These slavers... they control the spaceport, yes?" Another nod. "I may have to say or do things you wouldn't like while we're there, but I can't afford to leave you on the ship. You're our best chance at finding the Starmap."

"I understand. I will honour my lifedebt."

Obtena smiled. "That's all I needed to hear." Zaalbar's stomach chose this moment to gurgle enthusiastically, and she laughed quietly as he patted it so it would know it had been heard. "You better go eat before your stomach mutinies and I'm forced to throw it out an airlock," she told him as they stood.

"If there is one good thing about going home, it will be the food."