Bastila, Chapter One

Warhawk walked into the D-bee Registration Center and headed towards the secure cells. He had been summoned only moments before, an emergency that they had been closemouthed about at best. As best he had been able to gather from the brief conversation, they had an unusual D-Bee, Dimensional Being, and they were more than a little nervous. Of course, they called him. When Angel was out or too busy to respond, they fell back on the High Lord Priest of Elric, and Angel's son, to take care of whatever it was. Stepping into the door to the holding cells, he planned to do just that and head back to the boat.

Walking over to the main monitoring station, he smiled as the woman who stood there looked up. She was lovely, he noted, and his smile only grew wider, but lessened as he noted the line that formed between her brows that showed she was very nervous about something. Her tone, as she saw him, only confirmed his observation.

'Oh, thank the gods...uh...thank Elric. I thought you'd never get here. If you'll come this way?' Hurrying off, the woman headed towards the cells on the end, Warhawk not pointing out that they had only called him a few moments before, he being in very close proximity to the DRC. Following along, he went to the cell she indicated and looked through the small window there as she continued. 'When they brought her in, she was less than pleased to be here! She nearly brought the place down around us before she just went limp. They placed her in the cell and she's been like that ever since. I've never seen anything like it.'

Warhawk looked at the woman that occupied the cell. To him, she didn't look like she was trying to bring anything down. Examining her closely, he noted everything about her before turning to the woman beside him and asking his first question. 'Did she give her name?'

'No. She just kept screaming in some language akin to Trade Four about Seethe or Seth or some such and then she just clammed up, went limp, and assumed that position when the cell door shut.'

Warhawk looked back through the window. The woman now sat on the bed, cross-legged, with her hands lying gently in her lap. With her eyes closed and her head half bowed, she just seemed to be sitting there, breathing, with not a care in the world. It was obvious that she was meditating or in a trance, but he wasn't sure which. Shockingly, as he watched her, she raised her head and opened her eyes, hers meeting his with a serenity he could hardly fathom for one who had supposedly been brought in kicking and screaming. As she met his eyes, he took note of her high cheekbones and pretty nose, her auburn hair pulled into two pig tails, although there was nothing girlish about her, the tan undergarment, very tight fitting, with an elaborate over garment that tapered to her belt, tucked underneath it, and then appeared to fall to below her knee. She wore very little else, but what she did wear was of excellent quality and design and fit her well. Peeking out from beneath her knees he could just see short boots of the same matching brown as the over garment, she obviously not taking the time to remove them when she had been brought into the cell. Turning his attention back to the guard, Tessa Mulroney, or so her name tag stated, and asked, 'What was she carrying, Tessa?'

The woman flinched at his use of her name and then her lips twitched at her own skittishness before she turned and moved to a locker, opening it but not reaching inside, only standing aside so that he could see what was there. Warhawk knew a lightsaber when he saw it and that, he corrected himself, was a lightstaff or his name was mud. Walking over, he inspected it without picking it up, noting the fine quality, the expert craftsmanship, and the small touch of someone who had carefully built it with their own hands, no doubt the woman in the cell. 'Nothing else?'

'Nothing that we or the Rangers could see. There was no way we could search her without harming her or being harmed, but all of our scans reveal nothing out of the ordinary, a buckle here and such as that. So, are you going to take her or should I call someone else? She's, frankly, giving me the creeps and from what the Rangers said, she is not a wizard, mutant, or priest, but she sure gave them what for and Keep Security, when they arrived, only drove her into a higher state of agitation. They thought they might have to kill her before one of the guys got close enough to actually tackle her and that was sheer dumb luck. Apparently, she was a bit klutzy and they managed to pile enough guys on her to separate her from that thing. Well?'

Warhawk was scratching his chin as he looked at the weapon. He was thinking, but he didn't like the thoughts. The fact was, he couldn't believe what he was speculating. Looking at her at that last, he said, 'I'm going in to talk to her. After that, we'll see.'

'You can't do that! She took down nearly a whole Ranger and Keep team! I don't know who this one is, but she's a wildcat with a sore tooth and I'd leave her be!'

'Yes, Tessa, I'm sure you should, but I can't. You called me, remember?'

'Well, yes, but...'

'But nothing. There's only one way to get anything and that's to ask. Would you mind opening the door after containment is up behind me? I'll be o.k.'

'I hope you know what you're doing.'

'Me too.' Stepping to the door, he waited for the hum of the containment shields behind him and then pulled the door open, stepping in and pulling it shut behind him. Turning, he faced the woman even as she measured him with her eyes. Stepping to roughly the center of the cell, he stopped far enough away to react if she attacked, but close enough to speak in a normal tone. Since the table and chairs had been removed, he satisfied himself with just standing, priests robes pulled back to show his armament and the symbol of Elric. Even as she studied him, he took the time to do the same to her. Closer, and not looking through a smoky, scratched glass, he found her breathtaking...and dangerous, but he was sure that right now there was no danger, only wariness. He would give her time to relax before he said anything. It would be best to know what she was going to do before he even attempted to communicate. She didn't keep him waiting.

Warhawk was surprised as she spoke, the language very close to American, even as her own accent was strange, something akin to British with a hint of something else. It was the clarity that surprised him. 'Are you to be my torturer, then? Or are you here to turn me? I will not do so again.'

Warhawk wasn't sure whether to groan or laugh. He was both shocked by this and pleased that his instincts had been correct, no matter how farfetched. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts and careful to hide them, he said, 'I am neither. I am High Lord Priest Warhawk Electra-Tintallin, First Servant of Elric the Greater, god of Magic and the Prime Material Plane, He Who Shall Watch Over Us as we tend the flock. And you are...?'

'Not impressed.' She didn't move, but he felt the temperature drop.

Warhawk showed nothing, but one of her eyebrows quirked as the thoughts passed through his mind on how to proceed. Locking them down, he turned his head slightly sideways and responded with, 'O.K., not impressed, in case you are wondering, you are in a DRC, D-bee Registration Center, and Denver is a city-state and the Registration Center is the place. For your protection, we have brought you here...'

'Incarcerated against my will.'

'...Yes, well...anyway, we have brought you here for your protection as Rifts Earth is no place to drop in to without a friend or two to help you out. Now...'

'Rifts Earth?'

'Yes. Have you heard of it?'

'No.'

'Well, if you'll allow me, I'll enlighten you.' Walking to the wall, he touched a hidden button and a screen slid into view and lit as sound joined the images that began to scroll and move there. Stepping to the corner, he watched her as she watched the screen, she prompting it to continue when audible prompts were directed at her. For an hour, she studied the screen and the images, the videos and demonstrations as he watched her. When it was over, she turned placid eyes on him even as he noted the barest hint of fear pass through them and then disappear into the calm. That was all. No other reaction to the fate that had befallen Earth nearly three hundred years earlier. Massive war with unconventional weapons that had ripped open the sleeping magical energies of the planet, unleashing millions of random portals to an equal amount of other worlds and planes, inviting those denizens, benevolent and malevolent alike, to come. It had been named the Apocalypse, appropriately enough. The Earth, much less humanity, had yet to recover, despite the intervening centuries. Neither spoke until she finally took a deep breath, a sigh, straightened her shoulders, and prepared for the ordeal to come.

She took it remarkably well. As she asked questions, Warhawk answered honestly and as softly as he could. As he had suspected, she wasn't from around here. Not only that, she was Jedi as he had suspected and had misinterpreted the Keep Stormtroopers as Sith. As she hesitantly explained, she had been captured on a previous occasion or two, but would not elaborate beyond telling him it had been...undesirable. She had been on a ship in a far star system, one they couldn't determine from her description and his knowledge of the Three Galaxies, but he suspected it was very far from any that he knew of, but he didn't share that. Although quite weaker than they had previously been, the Sith had somehow managed to ambush them and corral the ship between two dying stars. As the bombardment had continued, the ship had lurched dangerously close to the corona of one of the stars, she had been thrown from her feet only to regain her senses and realize she was surrounded. It hadn't taken her but a moment to realize that the comforting hum of the ship was no longer beneath her feet and she had attacked without thought, something she was not happy about, and had been subdued by what was obviously an overwhelming force of soldiers, Sith she had believed. After that, they had brought her here and she had panicked, fearing that she was to be tortured or an attempt to turn her and she had been preparing herself for the ordeal to come. Sensing no deception from Warhawk and telling him so, she reluctantly listened; interjecting questions here and there to clarify a point or to have him interpret his particular phrase or turn of word. When he was done, she was visibly shaken, but obviously relieved and he gave her time to compose herself. Raising her head, she looked at him squarely.

'So, what do you intend to do with me?'

He thought for a moment and answered with a question of his own. 'What would you like us to do?'

She didn't answer immediately, but instead pondered the question for some time. Finally, she said, 'I would like to find my way back, if possible, but I certainly do not wish to stay here.'

'I'm sure we can find more comfortable surroundings, but it will take time to find out where you're from. Even now, teams are working on it, but it will take time.'

'Very well. Thank you for your help.' She stared at him for a moment and then said, 'My name is Bastila Shan, High Lord Priest. I am a Jedi Padawan of the Order.'

'Please, call me Warhawk. Pleased to meet you.'

For the first time, he saw the barest hint of a smile and a great deal of relief. 'Please, call me Bastila.'

'O.K., Bastila. So, would you like to see those accommodations? The lodgings in Denver are quite nice and...'

'If it's all the same with you, could I go with you? I would feel more comfortable that way.'

He thought for a moment and then said, 'Sure. I own a boat and there is more than enough room, if you don't mind staying at my personal lodgings.'

'Do you mean me harm?'

Warhawk couldn't help thinking yes even though it was probably not what she meant, but instead, he said, 'No. I just want you to be comfortable.'

'Very well. I don't mind if you will have me.'

Smiling, he said, 'I'd love to.' Calling the guard, he exited, Tessa eyeing Bastila warily as Warhawk let her follow him out. Taking the lightstaff from the locker, he noted Bastila's shock as he returned it to her and then motioned for her to follow him out the door and up the stairs. Clipping it to her belt, she did as she was bidden and followed him out into the warm, Denver sun. Entering the car, he drove her to his riverboat.

Warhawk walked out of the kitchen the next morning to find Bastila sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in her hand and snacking on a pastry. It was obvious from her look that she had never tasted the bitter drink, but that she liked it. He had left the tray and coffee on the table while he cleaned up and hadn't detected her coming down the steps. Being an early riser, he hadn't anticipated her being up before sunrise and had only showered before pulling on a pair jeans and coming downstairs to fix breakfast. Jade, his adopted daughter was off early, as usual, to work on some project or another and Rosie, his first and as yet only wife, was in Palladium. Claire, his soon to be second wife, hadn't come over the night before, she speaking with him on the phone before finding her own rest. She had assured him that it was fine that he had another woman there and no amount of explaining would convince her otherwise until he told her of the DRC. Still, she had had laughter in her voice when she had gotten off the phone and he had assured Bastila that it was nothing as he shook his head and hung up.

'I'm sorry. Is there a problem, Warhawk?'

He grinned. 'No, there is no problem. That was my fiancée. She was giving me a hard time about having another woman spending the night, what with Rosie in Palladium and she staying at home.'

'Wait...Rosie is your wife, right?'

'Yes.'

'And Claire is your fiancée?'

He grinned. 'Yes.'

'And Jade is your adopted daughter, but not the daughter of Rosie or Claire.'

'Yes.'

'Are multiple wives, or husbands I suppose, common here?'

His grin widened. 'Well, it is not unheard of within my family. I met Rosie in Palladium, another dimension, and fell in love. I met Claire after Jade punched her son in the nose and bloodied it pretty good. On a whim, I invited her over for dinner and to make peace. We became fast friends and she started hanging around on weekends with me or with Rosie and me when Rosie isn't on diplomatic missions. It became apparent that we were...compatible.'

'In love.'

'Yeah, something like that. Rosie and Claire became like sisters. Rosie and I discussed it and...well...Rosie approved. I asked Claire to marry me and...simple as that.'

'Simple as that.' Bastila's eyes looked far off, but she only mumbled, 'It must be wonderful to enjoy such freedom.' She fell silent for a bit and then changed the subject.

They had stayed up late talking about this and that, he telling her of Denver and Rifts Earth, she telling him of Revan and Malak and the crew of the Ebon Hawk. With each person she had mentioned, he had detected a different emotion in her voice, from fondness for the one called Carth Onasi to something very powerful but indecipherable for Canderous Ordo. Of Revan and Malak, she was unwilling to say much, be he detected very powerful undertones there as well and something akin to longing and loss for the one called Aaron LightBlade. She had mentioned a girl named Mission and Zaalbar the Wookie and spoken of some droids and a young Jedi named Juhani and an ancient Jedi named Jolee, but it was of the others that she exhibited, if that was what it could be called, any emotion at all.

Joining her on the couch, he enjoyed another cup of coffee and talked quietly, he catching her watching him out of the corner of his eye even as he watched her. He had loaned her some of Rosie's clothing for the night and she still wore them now, a pair of cutoff shorts and a sports bra, she picking them out of the options he had offered. This morning, she had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and he admired her fine features and her curvaceous, if lean figure. Making small talk, he tried not to be too obvious, but he couldn't help admiring her eyes and lips, tight stomach and slender, muscular legs. Placing the cup of coffee down, he turned his full attention to her even as he turned his body, one arm lying across the back, and the other nestled in his lap. Mirroring him, she did the same so that they could face each other as they talked.

'Well, what would you like to do today? I'm sure you have plenty of questions and I have time. Any thoughts?'

For the briefest moment, he saw something in her eyes, but it was gone before she answered. 'I have no idea. Have you heard anything?'

He smiled apologetically. 'No, but it has only been a day. There is no pressure on you. Whatever you want.'

It was there again and then gone. 'I can't think of anything.' He could tell that something was brooding beneath the surface, but nothing he could read.

'I know you miss them, but we'll get you back.'

Too quickly, she said, 'Who, the crew of the Ebon Hawk? Oh, no, that was a long time ago. I...I just want to get back to my duties and to the Order.'

Warhawk didn't respond for a minute. He wanted to be very careful with Bastila since she was obviously out of sorts and he had high doubts that she would handle it the way Cat, one of the others he had helped, had when she had dropped in. 'Actually, I was referring to your star cruiser, but it's obvious you miss the crew of the Ebon Hawk, too. Want to tell me about it?' She looked at him and then stood and began to pace. For a moment, he watched her and then carefully said, 'I didn't mean to upset you. If you don't want to talk...'

'No! No. It's o.k. It has been so long and I thought I had gotten over it, but I haven't.' As she continued to pace, he heard her under her breath say, 'There is no emotion. There is peace.' A few steps later, she addressed him again. 'The Ebon Hawk was a special crew with a special mission. I suppose it was difficult to let that go.'

Standing up, Warhawk walked over to where she had stopped and stared out across the lake. Stepping behind her, he lightly placed his hands on her shoulders, she flinching before she relaxed. Carefully, he said, 'Which one was it?'

She stiffened and then asked, 'I beg your pardon? What do you mean?'

'The Ebon Hawk. Which one was it? Carth?'

Pulling out of his reach, she said too forcefully, 'No, of course not! Carth was a good soldier. We were friends, more than that. Compatriots. We fought for a common cause. It...he...I...'

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean...'

'No, it's o.k. I should not be having these thoughts. Strong emotion leads to the Dark Side and I have no desire to travel that path again.'

Warhawk filed that away. 'You loved him?'

She looked at him. 'No! I mean, yes...not the way you think. For a time, we were soldiers in a common cause, but nothing else. It wasn't him...I mean...he isn't...damn.'

'If you don't want to talk about this, we don't have to.' She looked at him, but said nothing. Again, there was that brief flare before she covered it up, but not before he saw her eyes roam him. It wasn't him she was looking at. Again, he filed it away. Changing tactics, he asked a very blunt question. 'Did Aaron leave you or did you leave him?'

'I left him...' She stopped and took a step backwards. 'It wasn't like that. We decided...I mean, I decided...' She stopped and stared at him for a moment. Straightening, she faced him fully, nearly confrontationally, and then said, 'Aaron and I were in love. He pulled me from the Dark Side, but the Council forbids us from pursuing our relationship. There is no passion. There is serenity. Passion, strong emotion, leads to the Dark Side.'

'You said that already.'

'Yes, well...'

'But, you are passionate, nonetheless.'

Sighing, she let her shoulders slump and said, 'Yes. So I have been told. I have been passionate in my causes and passionate with my lovers...lover. Aaron was my love and we parted so that we did not fall into the trap of the Dark Side.'

'But that's not all.'

Defiantly, she looked at him, he taking the opportunity to step up to her, they nearly touching, her five foot six frame dwarfed by his own six foot eight. Looking up at him, her eyes met his squarely as she said, 'No. That's not all.'

Taking the plunge, he said, 'Canderous.'

'Don't be absurd!' Her resistance was too forceful. Too much emotion there.

'I wasn't being absurd. I'm a priest. You're a Jedi. I can read people as well as you.'

'You won't let this go, will you.'

'Do you want me to? You seem like you need a friend...someone to share with that isn't going to judge you or spout off some dogma about the Dark Side. Frankly, you need to get whatever is bothering you off your chest.'

'Maybe.' Stepping away from him, she began to pace again as he resumed his seat on the couch. Stopping in front of the bay windows again, she looked out at the placid surface of the water and drew what little strength she could. Sighing deeply, she said, 'I am in love with Aaron. Aaron was, at one time, the Dark Lord of the Sith, Revan. During our mission to destroy the Star Forge, Aaron and I fell in love. Afterwards, the Council forbid us from pursuing our relationship for fear that he or I would fall...again. Twice, we've defied them when time permitted. I was on my way to see him again...for a mission, but there would have been more...at least once more. After that, I was going to end it and move on. He didn't know. And...he couldn't know the rest.'

'Canderous.'

She turned and looked at him placidly. 'You still think you are correct.'

His face was calm. 'I told you. I can read people. You didn't relax one whit when you told me that and it should have been a load off, but something about that mission, those people, is eating you inside. Funnier still, something about me is reminding you of them. Care to tell me what?'

At that, Bastila actually laughed out loud. 'Oh, mighty priest, you are so sure of yourself, aren't you.'

He smiled. 'Yes, I am. So, what is it?'

A small smile stayed on her lips. Facing him squarely with her arms across her chest, she said, 'You sit there in your...jeans, not a stitch of other clothing on, and you ask me what is the matter. Well muscled, tanned, beautiful to behold, and yet you don't know what is the matter, only that something is. Well, let me tell you.' She walked over in front of him and leaned over, placing her bare hand on his chest. Her hand was warm as she slid it across his smooth pectoral and down his shoulder to his bicep. 'Neither Canderous nor Aaron is as big as you, but they are not much smaller either. Strong, vibrant, a fire inside that won't be quenched. You ask me what's wrong, Warhawk? Simply, I love one man. I lust for another. Both ensnare me. When I look at you, I see them and have a desire to quench that longing...if for just a while. Jedi should be above such things. I...am not. The Dark Side calls and I cannot resist.'

Warhawk was taken aback by the raw emotion in her eyes, not just at her admission, but the desire, the passion, and so many other things. She was angry that she couldn't be with Aaron, ashamed at her relationship with Canderous, and generally confused and lost and overwhelmed. If something wasn't done quickly, he might find himself with a problem he didn't know how to solve. Reaching across his body, he took her hand gently off his chest and pushed her away. Straightening, she turned and walked back to the windows and looked out. To her back, he said, 'Maybe...I know people who may be able to help you, Bastila. Maybe there is something we can do.'

Looking over her shoulder, she had a smile on her face that both heated his blood and chilled the bone. 'I was hoping that you might be willing...to help me out.'

Standing up, Warhawk said, 'I'm sure my wife would object.'

'No doubt your fiancée would, too.'

'Yes, I'm sure she would. You're too close to the edge. I'm no Jedi and I know nothing of Light or Dark Force, but something is pulling you and, I suspect, if you succumb, it will be pretty bad.'

She faced him fully. He didn't like the look in her eyes. With a small smile, she said, 'In some ways, more than you can imagine. In others...NO! I've walked that path and have no desire to do so again.' Spinning back to the windows, his extraordinary hearing could hear her whispering, 'There is no emotion, there is peace...'

Warhawk wasn't sure how to proceed. He had brought her to the riverboat in hopes of making her comfortable and easing her into the situation. It was peaceful here and she had been jerked completely out of her own universe into one where Jedi and the Force didn't exist, at least not in any form that any of he or the family was familiar with. The riverboat had plenty of room, over fifty suites and a multitude of distractions should she need one, but it appeared that this therapy wasn't going to work and he was unwilling to indulge the therapy she had suggested. He had to get them both into a neutral location where they could let the tension slide away just a bit and give him time to think.

On a whim, he said, 'Do you like to shop?'

That threw her. 'What?'

'Shopping. You'll need clothes while you're here and I figured it would get us off the boat and give you time to see your surroundings. A chance to relax.'

She smiled. 'Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay here? I'm sure we could find something to do.'

He grimaced, but hid it and smiled instead. Lightly, he said, 'Yeah, but I feel like some fresh air and I don't fell like teaching you chess. Go get dressed and I'll show you Denver.'

Raising an eyebrow at him, she said warily, 'If you insist. You are the host, after all.'

Warhawk had summoned a limo and instructed the driver to take them to Moonglow's Boutique, the most exclusive clothing store in town, specializing in custom made clothing, the price well worth the product. Besides, Moonglow had been a friend of the family for more than two hundred years. For the past hour, Warhawk had sat and watched, his expression close to laughter, as Moonglow had maddeningly tried to fit Bastila, with Bastila having none of it. If it wasn't the price she argued about, it was the fit or shape or some other detail that finally drove Moonglow to her wits end. Calling over Jesse, a beautiful red head that had been employed at Moonglow's for quite a few years, Moonglow had introduced her to Bastila, explained the plethora of problems, had instructed Jesse to help her out, and had turned to walk away. As an afterthought, she turned back to face Bastila one last time.

'Oh, by the way...'

'Yes?' Bastila was all ears.

'About that skirt?'

'Yes, I was thinking that it was...Mmph...' Moonglow silenced Bastila as she took her face in her hands and kissed her squarely on the mouth.

Abruptly, she released Bastila, leaving the woman breathless and stepped back. 'You're right. It makes your ass look like a doublewide.' Turning, Moonglow walked from the room. Over her shoulder, she threw, 'She's all yours, Jesse.'

Warhawk nearly bent over in pain at the shocked look on Bastila's face and the one of utter frustration on Moonglow's.

Dropping onto seat next to him, Warhawk took in the beautiful woman, a silver elf from Greyhawk, another dimension that was the original home to the Khanishan family, the root family of the Tintallin family tree. At 5'11', she had towered over Bastila, her short skirt and high heels giving her the appearance of a woman much taller with long legs and an athletic body. For all intents and purposes, she could have been a super model, but had chosen fashion design instead. For that matter, all of the women who worked for Moonglow had been models, dancers, or were just plain beautiful. When he had been younger and single, he had even dated many of them, Moonglow included, her looks promising many things, she more than capable of fulfilling them all. He had nearly married her, but had fallen for Rosie instead. It was hardly an issue. Moonglow had no intention of settling for just one man, no matter how supernatural he was.

As for not being a model and choosing fashion design, she said the money was better and had opened the most exclusive shop Rifts Earth and Denver could support. Through Horukin Enterprises, an inter-dimensional conglomerate owned by Tomokata Horukin, the ex-wife of one of Warhawk's uncles and the Matriarch or the Tintallin Family, Moonglow had even managed to open two other stores, one in Phase World and one in Aquilonia, the home country of the original Tintallin Family. Thinking on it, he was nearly as confused about all the branches as anyone he tried to explain it to.

Putting it out of his head, he looked over at Moonglow, his grin in place as she looked back at him and scowled. It did nothing to mar her looks, but it nearly made him burst out laughing.

'What do you think is so funny, elf? Why is it that you have to bring the most obstinate women in here and inflict them on me!'

'Who, me?'

'Yes, you. Shall I name names? Let's see,' she started ticking off names. 'Rosie, Claire, Jade, Selena when you were dating, Yasmeen, she was a piece of work...shall I continue?'

He laughed at that. 'No, no, I surrender. What can I say? I attract...strong women with strong opinions.'

'What you attract is a bunch of bit...'

'Easy.'

Moonglow tossed her hair, looking all the more like a scalded cat. 'Whatever. Anyway, this is going to cost you plenty and I don't mean just money. You, mister chef, own me hibachi. I'll be at the boat Friday night at seven sharp. You had better have your apron on. It has been too long since you've cooked for me.'

He laughed. 'You've got it. Are you going to bring a date or am I cooking for you alone.'

'Are you nuts? And share my steak and shrimp? Forget it. I'll have chocolate for dessert, thank you very much.'

Warhawk grinned. She was so very typically Moonglow, very honest about being wrapped up in herself and adorable for it. She was exactly as shallow as she wanted to be and not one whit more. 'Steak, shrimp, and chocolate. Got it.'

'So, what's the story with Queen Bitch of the Megaverse there?'

'Would you stop!'

'Well?!'

'It's a long story, but I guess we have a little time.' Looking at Jesse being extremely patient as she encouraged Bastila to try another skirt, he said, 'More than a little I suspect.' Settling in, he started talking as he and Moonglow watched the proceedings with Bastila.

As the story wound down, Moonglow looked at Warhawk with a blank expression, her eyes giving nothing away as she said, 'What are we going to do? You know there are certain things that she can't see...know. How are you going to hide it?'

Warhawk grimaced. Moonglow was still as astute as ever. 'You mean Lucas and Star Wars and the fact that we only thought it was a movie and a bunch of books.'

'Yeah. From the sounds of it, it is more like...I don't know...Bastila's future and the future of the Old Republic. It wasn't just for entertainment. Apparently, it was a history. If she were to find out or see it...'

'Yeah. She may try to change it. No one has ever proven you could change the past to affect the future, but...'

Slapping him on the leg, she stood up, scooping up the bag containing Bastila's lightstaff. Looking down at him, she smiled prettily and said, 'Sounds like you have a conundrum, lover. I stress the word you. My only conundrum is coming up with something to fit this thing in that goes with that outfit.' Jerking her head in the direction of the changing rooms, she grinned at him and sauntered off.

Looking up, Warhawk's breath caught. The Bastila he had brought in who had been uncomfortable in the jeans and t-shirt he had provided was not the Bastila he looked at now. On the contrary, this Bastila was a poised knockout where the other had sprinted between withdrawn and nearly out of control passionate. As he watched, Jesse smiled as she taught the woman to walk and turn in the unfamiliar heel, the one-piece ensemble forming a sleeveless top and a short skirt. With black heels, the ensemble accented her athletic body and legs without a tacky display of her assets.

Giving her the seal of approval and a bit of encouragement, Jesse turned Bastila towards Warhawk and gave her a little nudge. They had piled her hair up on her head with little trickles of hair outlining her face, a touch of makeup to accent her natural beauty, nails painted prettily and no jewelry to distract.

Gesturing Warhawk over, Jesse stepped back and motioned for Bastila to turn for him and pose. Shyly, she did as she was instructed and Warhawk fairly drooled as she did. The shy smile did little to hide the eyes that still dangerously promised far more than a cursory inspection. He was careful to maintain a bit of distance.

In her crisp accent, she asked, 'Well?'

Carefully, he said, 'You are very lovely, Bastila. I'm surprised you took to it so well. I'm...'

'Shocked? Amazed? Jesse was very encouraging and very persuasive. She told me that it is the custom to dress so and, as she is dressed similarly, I decided why not. I'm usually more reserved...' she blushed at that. 'But I sense no threat here. What did you call it, Jesse?'

Jesse smiled. 'Let your hair down.'

'Yes. I wanted to let my hair down.'

As she turned again for him, Moonglow walked up with a soft, leather case and a strap for the shoulder. Holding it out to Bastila, she said, 'I had you a case put together for your weapon. It will go with anything and...' reaching out, she tugged a loose tab. The lightstaff dropped into her hand. 'It is easily accessible.' Turning to Warhawk, she said, 'I'll put this on your account. Depending on how supper is Friday, I'll consider a discount.'

He shook his head at her. 'You're too kind.'

She dimpled at him. 'Don't forget beautiful, sexy, and rich.'

'Those too. C'mon, Bastila, before she talks me into something else.'

Quizzically, she asked, 'Shouldn't I gather the rest of the clothing? There is quite a bit of it.'

Jesse put her hand on Bastila's forearm and forestalled her. 'Don't worry, hon. I'll have it delivered to Warhawk's riverboat.'

'Thank you, Jesse. I hope to see you again.'

'Same here, Bastila.'

Looking at Moonglow, Bastila said coolly, 'Moonglow. Thank you for your time.'

Moonglow grinned widely. 'Would you like a goodbye kiss?'

Bastila turned red. 'Why, certainly not...!'

Before a brawl could break out, Warhawk took Bastila by the elbow and led her to the waiting limo. He decided it was time to take her to the Keep and meet Angel, his father, something that was typical in such situations. In this particular instance, now was as good a time as any. He was closer to needing Angel's expertise than he knew.

Warhawk held the door as Bastila walked into Angel's office. Closing the door behind them, he joined Bastila at the desk as Angel stood to greet his newest guest. Over her shoulder, she carried the black, leather case that held her lightstaff, the one thing she had refused to part with.

'Father, I would like you to meet Padawan Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order. Bastila, this is my father, Doctor Michael Angel Tintallin, most commonly known as Angel.'

'It is a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Tintallin.'

'Please, call me Angel.' Taking her hand in his, he bent and kissed it. 'It is a pleasure to meet one we had only considered legend until now.'

Bastila smiled at the greeting. 'I assure you we aren't legends.' Warhawk and Angel exchanged glances. Warhawk had noted the pleased look as Angel had looked her, and her wardrobe, up and down, but Bastila had seemed to miss it.

'Even so. I assume that Warhawk has cared for you properly?'

Bastila glanced at Warhawk, but concealed whatever was there. 'Uh...yes, he has been marvelous to me. Do you often treat your guests so well?'

Again, Angel and Warhawk exchanged looks, but Bastila missed it again. 'We endeavor to make our guests feel welcome in whatever capacity seems appropriate.'

She hesitated before saying, 'I see. Well, yes, Warhawk has been most...gracious in welcoming me to his home.'

'Please, have a seat.' Summoning drinks, Angel returned to his own and engaged Bastila in conversation. He was expecting other guests, but they weren't due for another half hour.

Listening and asking a few questions, he soon learned what there was to know of the status of the Republic, where they stood in their current war, and, most importantly, what time they were in, that the most crucial thing since he had received little other information from Warhawk other than a cryptic message about a little problem and the highlights of Bastila's arrival. Angel had learned as much from the report the Denver Rangers had dropped on his desk from her capture. Angel had no desire to reveal to her their knowledge of what was to become of the Republic. To him and the rest of the family, it was anathema and to reveal that knowledge could affect not only their time, but the Three Galaxies as well. At best, it could turn the tide of their own conflicts and, at worst, it could doom them all. Without knowing the complete future, he would reveal nothing and stay safe in his knowledge.

As the time wound away for his other guests, of which both Gambit and Allondra had informed him of, he wound to a close with Bastila with promises to spend more time with her, intimating something more private that made her blush. As the chime alerted him to the new arrivals, he asked that they remain where they were as he stood and opened his own office door. When his new arrivals entered the room, it was most revealing.

'Bastila,' she said, nodding her head.

'Adria, I see you've found me.'

When Bastila left Angel's office, Warhawk could tell that she was quite shaken. Pulling her through the office of Angel's assistant, Barbie, he led her across the hall into the conference room and shut the door behind them, securing it just in case. In his hand, he carried the case that Bastila had refused to part with, the solid bulk of her lightstaff firmly inside. Had he not grabbed it, she would have completely forgotten it.

As he turned, he found Bastila pacing the side of the table in a fit of uneasiness. Stepping over and placing the case on the table, he caught her by the shoulders and held her steady, her hands coming up to grasp his biceps as if she were drowning.

Looking down at her into those deep brown eyes, he asked, 'Are you ok?'

She seemed hesitant, but replied honestly. 'No. I'm not o.k. It would seem that what I had hoped is not to be.'

Warhawk grimaced at her obvious unease. 'And what had you hoped?'

'That I...we...' With a sigh, she looked up at him. 'I just wanted a break. Is that too much to ask? I just wanted a break...from Aaron...from the Republic...' She stiffened and continued. 'No. I can't be selfish. There is a war on and I am needed. Adria is right. We must return as soon as...'

Bastila stopped speaking as Warhawk put a finger to her lips. 'She said three weeks.'

'Yes, I know, but...'

'No buts. You have time to enjoy yourself and take that break and I intend to make it as relaxing as possible. Are you going to argue?'

A smile pulled at the corners of Bastila's lips. Shaking her head, she said, 'No. I won't argue. What did you have in mind?'

Warhawk smiled. 'Well, for starters, let's go back to the riverboat and get you changed into something more comfortable. After that, maybe I can cook for you. How's that sound?'

She smiled at him. 'I like that. Tell me, what is hibachi?'

He grinned back. 'Something that must be experienced. Hibachi it is.'

...In a Galaxy far, far away...

General Aaron LightBlade strode from the bridge of the Reclaimer and headed towards his quarters. His presence was no longer needed on the bridge and was as good a time as any to turn command over to his second. Walking down the corridors, he greeted his crew with smiles even as they congratulated him on his latest victory; he responding that it was their own. The latest battle had been little more than rote to him, their opposing commander not particularly imaginative in his deployment of troops and ships and Aaron, Revan he couldn't help thinking, had quickly wiped the man from the galaxy. The only thing left was mop up and that would be accomplished quickly. For now, he desired a drink and some time to regroup his own thoughts.

During the battle, General LightBlade had been quick to dispatch his fighters in a picket that intercepted the incoming fighters of the enemy commander. As he did so, he repositioned his own fleet to maximize their firepower and had given the order to fire at will when the vision had hit him.

He was in a room, a large room, a conference room or something else with a similar function. In front of him was a man, or someone similar to a man with long, blonde hair and pointed ears dressed strangely by his reckoning. Standing in front of him was Bastila, dressed strangely as well. As he watched the vision, Bastila looked into the man's eyes and smiled, whether in gratitude or pleasure, he wasn't sure. Taking her by the arm, he led her out of the room and to an unusual land vehicle that they entered, the vehicle moving away as his vision faded. She was out there somewhere. But where? And who was that man?

It was then that the vision had ended, his second congratulating him on the fine victory and brilliant strategy. Aaron remembered nothing of the battle, but he did remember the vision as if he'd been there. Disturbed, he made his way to his quarters and inside.

Aaron's quarters on the Reclaimer were opulent. As the General in charge of the fleet, strangely not an Admiral, he commanded the best for himself and his crew, whether he wanted it or not. The anteroom was for greeting guests and dignitaries and he quickly passed through that one. The interior room was set up more like a living room than the quarters of a Fleet Commander and bore the markings of someone who enjoyed comfort while at the same time was capable of business at the large table and chairs to the left indicated. To the right was another room that was where he slept and conducted...other business. Although a Jedi Knight and restored to his full memories, Aaron had not been able to shake the habits of Revan as a Dark Jedi. Well, he had not been able to shake one, as it was, and he had often invited more than one Under Lieutenant or Captain back to that very room for a nightcap. Even the occasional Ambassador or Aide had seen the décor and more there. Tonight, he intended to just settle in and get some rest.

Undressing, he lay back on the bed and sipped at the strong drink he had fixed. Opening his mind, he tried to think of what to do, how to find Bastila, but the Force was clouding the issue and he couldn't penetrate the depths before him. Trying to relax, he let his eyes close and slipped into a meditative state, his body drifting into that reflexive relaxation that carried him along in gentle waves.

Just as he was almost lost and the answer seemed near, he heard the door chime and snapped up in bed, fully awake and battle ready. Realizing what had happened, he started to slip off the bed when another vision hit him like a blaster bolt in the chest. In it, he saw a swirling vortex of energy, the deepest blue he could imagine. Located in the middle of space two dozen parsecs away, he knew that it would be there long, but when it disappeared, he knew exactly where it would come back. Into that vortex, that worm hole, he knew the path that would lead to Bastila. With a grin, he started to lie back when the door chimed again.

Opening it, he found himself facing Canderous. 'Yes?'

Pausing, he said, 'Get the crew ready. You're leaving in the morning. I have a mission for you. I'll explain it when you leave.'

'Whatever you say.' Canderous started to turn and walk away when Aaron interrupted him.

'By the way, did you want something?'

'No. I just had a gut instinct that you wanted to see me.'

Aaron didn't say anything at first. Looking the man in the eye, he paused before saying, 'Good instincts.'

Canderous scowled at him. 'Of course. I'm a Mandalorian. With there be anything else?'

'No.'

'Good. Call me if you want anything done right.' Turning, he left Aaron grinning and shaking his head. Shutting the door, Aaron went back to bed as the mystery began to clear.

'I want you to take the Ebon Hawk and find Bastila. When you do, find a way to bring her to me. Convince her.' Aaron's eyes strayed to Mission and then back to Canderous. The Twi'lek woman was moving gingerly, to say the least. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. 'Take Mission and the rest of the crew and you're in charge.'

'What about Carth?'

'You heard what I said. The Hawk is my ship, not his. And, I know you'll get the job done, Canderous.'

'And where do you want me to start?'

Aaron handed him a data pad. 'Here. That is all I know. The Force is guiding me to her, but I don't know much else. Her last known coordinates are there, but the answer is here. Trust me on this. I'll follow when I can.'

Canderous looked at the data pad and then back at Aaron. The look told him the same thing Aaron had been thinking, but he didn't comment. The coordinates were more than forty parsecs from Bastila's last known location. Looking at the pad once more, he looked Aaron in the eye. 'Is there anything else?'

Aaron grinned. 'Yeah. Take care of Mission.'

Canderous returned the grin, but didn't address Aaron. 'Alright. Everybody aboard. The boss has us on a hunting trip and I don't intend to let him down. Mission, get on the ship and I'll help you work out the kinks.' Saluting, he didn't wait for Aaron to return it before boarding the Ebon Hawk.

Aaron watched as the Hawk pulled out of the docking bay and swooped into space. He was sure of two things as he watched her go. Canderous would come back with Bastila or die trying. The other was that Mission would definitely get the kinks worked out, whether she wanted to or not. Chuckling, Aaron turned and walked back to the bridge.

Warhawk sat in one of the chairs in the suite Bastila was using as she put the rest of her clothes away. She had taken each piece and shown it to him, she still wearing the dress she had bought, but had discarded the heels and now walked around barefoot on the thick carpets. As she stowed away the last piece, she cocked her head to one side and asked, 'What was that?'

Listening, Warhawk heard water splash as someone dove into the lake, the sound disappearing as he turned his attention back to Bastila. He had heard his guest arrive earlier, but wasn't sure who it was. Many of the family used the boat when they wanted some quiet time or wanted to swim in private. 'I suspect one of the family is visiting. They often come here to swim or get away from the city. Care to meet them and take a dip?'

'Sure. What would be appropriate wear?'

Standing up, Warhawk made his way over to one set of drawers and opened it. Reaching in, he pulled out several different garments and placed them on the bed. Pointing, he said, 'I like that one, but any of these are appropriate. These aren't considered too...risqué, are they?'

She inspected them one at a time until she came back to the one he had selected and picked it up. 'Well, I've seen Twi'lek dancing girls wear less, but if you think this is...sufficient.'

He smiled. 'It is perfectly appropriate for swimming or sunning yourself.'

With a bit of doubt, she said, 'Very well. I'll meet you downstairs?'

'Sure. I'll go change and introduce you to whomever has come to visit.'

She smiled back hesitantly, but seemed to be more relaxed as he shut the door behind him.

Warhawk sat on the walk surrounding the boat as he watched Akirinol swim towards the boat. He only wore a Speedo with his towel draped over the back of the chair and was sure that Akirinol was dressed similarly.

As he watched Akirinol approach, he heard the door slide open and Bastila appear on the deck. Again, he noted that she was very well capable of stopping traffic and grinned at her as she stepped out. She was wearing a tan wraparound bikini with no shoes or other adornment, and had her hair pulled back in the clip she had purchased that morning. The bikini had a sexy pattern on it and he felt it fit her complexion to the nines. She returned his smile tentatively and came to stand beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder as she did so.

Shyly, she asked, 'Are you sure this is ok?'

He gestured towards another lounge chair and said, 'You look fine. It isn't too revealing, but it does enhance you very well. Relax. Akirinol is a nice guy.'

She smiled back at him. 'There is no such thing.'

'You could be right.'

Looking out towards the water, she asked, 'Is that our guest...your friend, I should say.'

Warhawk smiled. 'Yes, it is my friend. Our guest. His name is Akirinol Gabriel Tintallin of the Wolf and he is my cousin.'

'That's quite a mouthful.'

'Well, he is from a place called the Northern Steppes, a glacier located in Greyhawk. His mother is the Clan Chief of the Wolf Clan and his father, my uncle, is her consort. Although technically Akirinol is a barbarian, he was kind of the black sheep of the family and didn't want to spend his entire life on a glacier, so he ran away and came here. Angel and Tomokata, you'll meet her later, protected him when Vestra, his mother, and Wolverine, his dad who's real name is Raphael, came hunting for him to force him to return. To make a long story short, they were...uh...convinced to let him choose his own course in life and since he was a huge comic book fan, you know the books I showed you last night, he chose to go to another alternate Earth that we call Heroes Unlimited Earth, and become a superhero.'

'Superhero?'

'Well, a lot like a Jedi when compared to the normal human. Stronger, greater powers, stuff like that.'

'And this Akirinol, what does he do?'

'He can stick to walls, make his own webs, and is extraordinarily strong, stronger than almost everyone in the family. He's one of the smallest, too.'

'Really? How tall is he?'

'Six foot three. He weighs about two hundred and thirty pounds, but he could just about move this boat by himself.'

'Impressive. What is his...code name...is that right?'

Warhawk smiled at her. 'Remember the one set of books I showed you with the spider guy?'

'Yes.'

'He patterned himself after him, hence Spiderman. Just call him Kiri or Akirinol.' Bastila hid her giggles behind her hand at that. Shushing her, Warhawk said, 'Don't tease him. He's young and you'll make him self conscious.' Quieting, Bastila watched as Akirinol reached the boat.

Leveraging himself out of the lake, Akirinol grabbed a towel and dried his face, shaking his hair out of his eyes before grinning at the newcomers. It wasn't unusual for Akirinol to swim at the boat; he usually slipping in, taking a dip, and being out the door when it was obvious Warhawk didn't want to be disturbed. This time around, Warhawk gave him an amicable smile in welcome and offered him a seat. He didn't make it as his eyes fell on Bastila sitting on the end of the lounge chair.

He took in the beauty in front of him and recognized her instantly. On their previous meeting, he hadn't exactly been invited to meet her, but this was just as well. He wouldn't have put himself between those two she-wolves for all the ice on the glacier in the Gobi Desert if her were dying of thirst. Now that he had the opportunity, he took her in, probably being afforded a better view by virtue of her dress now than what she had worn in Angel's office. He had noticed then, too. Looking her up and down, he took in her tanned, athletic legs, the somewhat narrow waist, the firm stomach and firm, full breasts. Her shoulders were somewhat wide, but tapered beautifully into a long neck and delicate features with a narrow jaw, almost overly full lips, a straight nose, and slightly slanted eyes. Her hair was a beautiful auburn cut just a bit shorter than shoulder length and was now pulled back from her face. As he met her eyes, he smiled in greeting, noticing that she drank him in much the same way as he did her. He was glad that all that time of late spent in the gym sculpting his own body hadn't gone to waste.

When Akirinol leveraged himself out of the water, Bastila's breath caught in her throat. She took in the height immediately; his six foot three frame and well-muscled body were beautifully proportionate. He had a strong jaw and straight nose with full lips that could have been the envy of a woman. His eyes were wide set and the same, deep blue within blue of Warhawk's although his might have been green underneath and were not completely saturated like the elder elves. Another feature that caught her attention was the not so pointed ears beneath his long, dark brown mane and the less defined cut of his face that she had noticed in both Warhawk and Angel. He had broad shoulders that tapered to an amazingly cut stomach and narrow waist, and soon followed her gaze to thick thighs, well defined calves, and trim ankles that looked strong. She took in the multitude of tattoos, but that did not detract from the pleasure at being able to lay eyes on such a gorgeous creature, each one seeming well placed and fitting. Gazing back to his face, she smiled in admiration at the strong genetics of the obvious Tintallin and felt that if this was the norm, she may find herself overwhelmed and turned to the Dark in a frenzy of lust. With a sudden lurch, she couldn't help noting how closely he resembled Aaron in face and body. Quickly, she quashed both thoughts and let her smile unconsciously slip just a bit.

Akirinol basked as she took him in. As he stepped forward to say hello, he saw her gaze falter and the smile slip, causing him a moment of panic, wondering if he had done something wrong. 'Uh...hi, I'm Akirinol. I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?' His own smile faltered as he asked.

Bastila's eyes turned outward from whatever she was thinking and only caught the last. 'Oh...no...I was just thinking about...I mean no...I...uh...' Bastila blushed as she lowered her eyes. Gathering herself quickly, she smiled charmingly and raised her eyes to meet Akirinol's, offering her hand to him. 'I'm sorry, I'm Bastila Shan. I don't think we were introduced earlier. I am a Jedi Padawan of the Order...'

'Yes, nice to meet you.' Taking her hand, Akirinol bent and kissed it, his eyes never leaving her own. He watched with pleasure as she blushed down to the tops of her breasts and smiled in pleasure.

Warhawk broke in and said, 'I was going to fix dinner in a bit. Are you hungry?'

Akirinol twisted up his face causing Bastila to laugh out loud. 'When have you ever known me not to be hungry, cousin. I take after you.'

Warhawk grinned. 'Care to help me make it?'

'Sure.'

Drying off as he went, none of the three of them bothered to change as Bastila took a seat at the bar and watched as Warhawk and Akirinol whipped up something 'simple.' She sipped her wine and watched in amazement as they moved around each other in what looked like an intricate dance, Akirinol explaining that Warhawk had taught him to cook, Warhawk passing on that Chranas, whom she had not met, had mostly taught him. He had started out of the simple necessity of not having to eat camp cooking in the various mercenary camps he had served in, but had honed his skills under her tutelage until he had come to Denver.

When they were done, they served up three enormous trays of food and carried them into the living room, Akirinol offering Bastila a plate of sautéed shrimp and vegetables while, on the other side, Warhawk fixed his own plate. Settling back, they gorged themselves until no one could eat another bite, Warhawk going into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine to wash it all down.

Leaving Bastila to enjoy her wine, Akirinol and Warhawk cleaned up, Warhawk soon dismissing him from the kitchen to finish up.

'Go keep Bastila company. I'll finish up here.'

Akirinol looked at Warhawk and received a totally bland expression in exchange. 'O.K. Anything I should talk about?'

'Just go. Have fun. Try and get her to relax...keep her mind off of the serious stuff for one night.'

Akirinol didn't need any encouragement as he grinned and wriggled his eyebrows at Warhawk. 'Right. See ya.'

'Don't even think it, barbarian boy. Be nice.'

'Who, me? I'm a perfect gentleman.'

'And a youngling with more than a few hormones. Be nice.'

Akirinol waved him off. 'I'll be nice...dad!' Akirinol ducked the thrown towel and walked back into the living room, taking up a conversation with Bastila while Warhawk tidied up.

When Warhawk walked into the living room, he found the two chatting amicably enough, Bastila grilling Akirinol on what it was to be a superhero and why he had chosen that life path. On the other hand, he managed to get in his own questions about the Jedi Order and what it was to be a Jedi. The bottle of wine that had been left on the table was gone, so Warhawk grabbed another and refreshed everyone's drinks. Taking a chair across from them, Warhawk joined in the conversation, they all taking to it as Bastila loosened up, laughing at their jokes when she understood them, they paying her the same courtesy.

As the dusk turned to night, Warhawk excused himself when the phone rang, leaving Bastila and Akirinol to continue the conversation.

Returning to them, he leaned over the back of the couch and said, 'I'm sorry, but I've just been called to the Keep. Angel wants to meet with me about something, but he didn't say what.'

Bastila looked at him worriedly. 'Do you think they've found something out? I mean, Adria found a way to get here. Maybe...'

Warhawk smiled at her. 'Don't worry, Bastila. I'll let you know.'

Stretching, Akirinol stood and said, 'Well, I guess I'll be going, too. I had a wonderful afternoon. Thank you for the hospitality.'

Warhawk started to reply when Bastila interrupted him. 'No! No, don't go. I would...prefer not to be here alone.' She looked at Warhawk and Akirinol, not precisely with fear, but with some emotion they couldn't read.

Looking at Warhawk, Akirinol said, 'I don't have any plans. I could stay until Warhawk gets back.'

Warhawk didn't seem convinced, but said instead, 'I guess so. Let me change and you can walk me out Akirinol.'

'Sure.'

When Warhawk came back down the steps, Akirinol followed him to the door. Facing him, Warhawk warned, 'Be careful. She is still very fragile and...there is more here than meets the eye.'

Seriously, Akirinol said, 'I will be. Don't worry.'

'Good. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

Akirinol grinned that boyish grin that usually meant mischief. 'Don't hurry back.'

'Don't get any ideas and don't say it. Who, me?' Patting his shoulder, Warhawk turned and left, Akirinol turning back to the living room and Bastila.

Warhawk entered Angel's office and stopped dead in his tracks. Angel wasn't alone. Sitting on the couch with her feet tucked under her was Adria, a drink in one hand, and a cigarette burning in the other. Warhawk assumed that that didn't bode well.

Facing him, Angel said, 'We have a problem.'

Warhawk looked at him as he took off the outer priests robe and dropped it over a chair. 'Not to be obnoxious, but duh.'

'You've met Adria, but I don't think you know who she is. Warhawk, this is Adria Teksuni. Ring a bell?'

'Teksuni? As in the same Teksuni as Allondra?' Allondra was married to Gabriel Tintallin, one of Warhawk's five uncles.

'The same. Adria and Allondra are first cousins. You could almost say she's family.' Warhawk didn't comment on that. He hadn't been particularly thrilled with Adria when she and Bastila had met the first time in this very office. 'Swallow it, Warhawk. Adria isn't your enemy. She's here to help and take Bastila back.'

'You and your damned mind reading. And is that supposed to comfort me, Adria taking her back?'

'A little, I suppose.'

'In that case, before you go running back to the Republic and the Order, Jedi, you should know that something is eating her inside...something dark. I don't understand the Force, but I understand people and if we don't do something, fast, I think you're going to have a bigger problem than being a long way from home.'

Adria looked at Warhawk and arched an eyebrow. 'I'm not sure who you thought you were addressing, Priest,' she stood up and walked over to him. Even with her six-foot frame, he towered over her. She looked up at him even though it rankled a bit. 'But if you don't check that tone, I'll give you a lesson in the Force and in Tattoo Magic.' She slid one sleeve up to show him the Adarok.

Warhawk grinned down at her, but didn't have time to reply before Angel interrupted. 'Take a breather or I'll put you in a room together and figure this out myself while you two kill each other.'

Glaring at Warhawk from just inches away, she watched as Angel's words calmed the big elf and then let her own ire cool. Stepping away, she said to Angel apologetically, 'I'm sorry. This whole situation reeks. I thought when I found Bastila, everything would settle down, but I feel like I have crosshairs between my shoulder blades...like something...I can't put my finger on it...the Force isn't clear to me.'

Angel crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. 'I may not be Force Sensitive, but I am a Kwisatz Haderach and I am a very powerful psychic and I have the same feeling. Something is brewing. Warhawk?'

Warhawk shrugged. 'Elric's not talking, but something is going on...something big. It's not another Armageddon, I'm sure of that, but Denver is definitely going to be the center of a great deal of attention and soon.'

Angel sighed. 'Then at least we can agree on that. The question is what do we do first?'

Adria picked up her Scotch and downed it, moving to pour herself another one. 'First, I need to figure out what's wrong with Bastila. She's on the edge and we don't need her to fall over it again.'

Angel looked at her. 'I'll take care of Bastila.'

Adria whipped around. 'What do you know about Jedi, Angel? What can..?'

'I'm a psionicist, psychologist, and a great deal beyond that. Trust me to take care of it. She's vulnerable and we've seen how you two get along. Give someone else a shot.'

Adria didn't look convinced, but said, 'Your funeral, pal.'

Warhawk broke in. 'What about the storm that's brewing? None of us can put a finger on exactly what is going to happen, but it will be big.'

'Keep looking and researching. Shake the bushes and let's see what falls out.

Downtown Denver...at the same time...

She stood and looked towards the Keep, the wind blowing at her robes as she stood motionless. A small smile crept across her lips as she...felt the proceedings. Turning to the three men standing behind her and motioned them away. Following, she moved with them into the shadow of the closest building, stopping, the three men attending to the beautiful woman before them.

Smiling sweetly, she said, 'We will continue to follow their progress and see where it leads. For now, we will only observe. The Emperor would be most displeased if we reveal ourselves before the proper time.'

Bowing, they murmured her honorific and moved off in different directions.

Turning back to the Keep, she savored the moment when they could move and she could break Angel to her heel...and turn the new Jedi to the will of the Emperor.

Walking back into the living room of the riverboat, Akirinol felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Like his namesake from the comics, he had his own Danger Sense that functioned similarly, but it didn't feel quite like that. Scanning the room, he found Bastila and saw that she had left the couch and now stood at the bottom of the stairs, her body half turned to head up them, she looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes glittering with some deep emotion that he couldn't fully interpret.

Before he could move, she said very softly, 'You remind me so much of him, Akirinol. Too much. Tell me, do you have a girlfriend or a wife? Fiancée?'

Confused, he took a few steps closer and stopped. 'A girlfriend. A couple, actually. Why?'

'Do you please them?'

He smiled a little, the danger seeming to pass a little, but her look intensifying. 'I haven't had any complaints.'

She smiled back, but said nothing. Instead, she slowly mounted the steps and headed up. As she did, he saw the bikini top slide off her body and drop half way up. As she moved into the shadow at the top of the stairs, he saw the bottoms fall away. Drifting back down the steps, her voice caressed him as she said, 'I'm sure I won't complain either.'

Grinning, Akirinol headed up the steps and followed Bastila into her suite.

The overhead speaker crackled, Canderous and Mission having retired to the crew cabin while the others entertained themselves elsewhere. Looking up, Canderous barked, 'Yeah, what is it?'

Carth's voice came over the COM. 'You better get up here. You're not going to believe what I'm seeing right now.'

'Try me. I've seen lots of things.'

'Maybe so, your leadership, but I'd sure feel better if you saw this. I've never seen anything like it and you're in charge.' Carth didn't sound pleased about Canderous being in charge, but Aaron had made it clear and Carth was a good soldier. 'If you have some experience with swirling, blue energy holes in the middle of space, I'd sure like to hear about it.'

Canderous looked down at Mission and then up at the speaker. 'Alright, I'll be right there.' As the speaker crackled off, he looked at the Twi'lek beneath him and said, 'Sorry, honey, but this will have to wait.'

Mission sighed in relief. 'Thank the Force. For an old man, you have the endurance of a Rancor.'

'Have some experience with Rancor's do ya.'

She slapped his shoulder. 'Oh, please! Get off me you big oaf.'

'Not yet.'

When he had dressed, Canderous made his way to the cockpit and relieved Zaalbar of his seat. He took one look out the view port and recognized what Aaron had so desperately tried to explain to him. Now, he knew he had been right. Looking over at Carth, he said, 'Head into it.'

Carth looked at him in disbelief. 'Pardon?'

'Do it. This is what Aaron sent us out here for. Just do it.'

Carth shook his head. 'As you command, Imperious Leader.'

Canderous just grunted as the nose of the Ebon Hawk turned towards the hole in space and headed into the unknown. It wouldn't be until later that either would understand the inadvertent joke that Carth had made.

'You what?!'

Akirinol looked at Warhawk strangely. 'Hey, I don't exactly kiss and tell, pal! Cousin or no. We're not that kind of cousins!'

Warhawk moved around the counter and stopped in front of Akirinol. Looking down at him, he rasped, 'Kid, if I didn't love you so much, I'd throttle you. I thought that I was clear about sleeping with her. Don't!'

Akirinol took a step back. 'Hate to tell you this, cuz, but you said be careful.'

'I...' Warhawk calmed down and realized Akirinol was right. He had never outright warned him. Taking a step back, he said, 'You've got me there.' Resignedly, he took a seat on one of the stools and looked at Akirinol. Bracing himself, he asked, 'Did she seem...was she...'

'No kissy tell, Warhawk.'

Frustrated, Warhawk tried to calm himself again. Taking a breath, he tried again. 'Did she seem...dangerous? Did anything...unusual happen? Did she use the Force already!'

Not knowing what he was missing, Akirinol knew that décor had nothing to do with this conversation. Choosing his words wisely, he said, 'We made love, we talked, we made love, we talked some more, took a shower, had another bottle of wine, made love, made love, drifted off to sleep, woke up, brushed out teeth, made love. Twice. Any more questions?'

Warhawk shook his head and smiled. 'No, I guess that just about covers it. Care to get more detailed?'

'Nope.'

Before Warhawk could say anything else, he heard a creak on the steps and looked towards them to see Bastila coming down them. Wearing a pair of white jogging shorts and sports bra, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, he couldn't help thinking she looked radiant. Walking over to them, her face lit up in a smile as she stopped in front of Akirinol and tip toed, pulling him down for a light kiss as Warhawk's eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

'Mmm, morning Akirinol.' Turning, she smiled at Warhawk as she walked into the kitchen to get coffee. 'Morning, Warhawk. I hope your meeting went ok.'

'Fine. No problem.'

'Good.' Taking a muffin with her coffee, Bastila moved back into the living room and ate while she stared out the window across the lake.

Looking at Warhawk, Akirinol said, 'Well, I guess that's my cue to leave.'

'Guess so.'

'Later.' He glanced over at Bastila. 'I don't think I've ever had quite that effect...no, actually, I think I usually do.' Grinning at Warhawk, he headed towards the door, Warhawk not releasing the knife he threatened with, Akirinol throwing a goodbye to Bastila who smiled sweetly at him, but said nothing.

As he sat at the bar and watched her, Warhawk couldn't help but wonder at the tuneless humming coming from the woman.