Star Wars 1. Chapter 1

_**Manaan.**_

_**Three days after the fall of Malachor and the death of Kreia.**_

Pain.

The Exile groaned as her muscles flared in protest. She slowly opened her eyes, focusing on a clean, alabaster ceiling. It was round and she sensed an open balcony to one side. She could hear the sound of waves and scented salt in the air.

"Where...am I?" she rasped.

"You are awake," replied a kindly voice, "You are on Manaan, human and you are being cared for by the finest medical personnel in the universe. My name is Shaelas, I am your personal caretaker and friend to Admiral Onasi."

She turned to face the voice, biting her lip at the shooting pain that accompanied her movement. "But...but you're Selkath?" she murmured.

"You will find that your treatment at this facility will be second to none. Manaan is the home of all kolto production, two top-ranking medical schools and the finest surgeons in the known universe." he said kindly.

"Of course," she replied, embarrassed, "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you Shaelas."

"None taken," he said mildly, "How do you feel?"

"It feels like I've been trampled by stampeding banthas," she said, smiling wryly, "Though, with the exception of every muscle in my body I'm fine."

The Selkath chuckled lowly, "You were severely injured when you arrived, you will find that your organs and bones have been completely healed but unfortunately the bruising will have to take nature's course."

She smiled at him, "Do you have any news on my crew? They were involved in a terrible crash-landing, are they alright?"

The Selkath paused, "Only one of your crew members remains under observation here. The others escaped with moderate injuries ranging from broken bones to concussions but they have recovered fully. Unfortunately your Zabrak technician was seated next to an electrical panel that exploded in the crash. The energy cascaded to his mechanical arm and he sustained severe organ damage and burns."

"Bao Dur?!" she exclaimed, her heart racing, "How is he?"

"He will recover," Shaelas replied, "It required four separate surgeries but his organs have been repaired and the burns have been grafted with an experimental tissue. If successful he will bear no physical scars but for the moment he is sedated in the next room. As you can well imagine the process of tending to burns is extremely painful. It is merciful to keep him unconscious for the moment but his progress has been astonishing. His surgeon may awaken him as early as this evening."

The Exile breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the aftershocks of her fear ripple towards her fingers, "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that, but if I might, could I trouble you with one more favor?"

"Of course," he replied, "Anything."

"I could really use some time to myself today to rest and gather my thoughts, could you see to my privacy for just a few hours?" she asked.

"I will check with your physician," he replied, "he may need to speak with you briefly but other than that it shouldn't be a problem."

"Thank-you Shaelas." she called as he headed for the door. He turned, gave her a low bow and exited.

She took a moment to breathe in the sea air and slowly, painfully, she coaxed herself into a sitting position. The room was minimally furnished in ivory, as a matter of fact; the only hint of color was the raw silk cobalt sheets that covered her. She pushed them aside, turning slowly and lowering her feet to the floor. She was dressed in a thin Dramassian silk chemise that barely covered the heavy black and purple bruising that ran the length of her arms and legs. She imagined that her torso looked much the same and she grimaced. The pain was nauseating.

Bao.

He had made it to the very end, the Shadow Generator was destroyed and the wound in the Force healed. She smiled sadly to herself, the end had nearly cost him his life but her heart soared at the news of his recovery. She had come to know him so well throughout their travels together on the Hawk but it hadn't been easy at first. Her memory loss had been an issue which was understandable considering how tied they both had been to the Shadow Generator. Complicating matters was his preference to separate himself from the rest of the crew. He had never been too comfortable around humans, especially groups of humans. He was aware of their folklore surrounding creatures with horns and had been on the receiving end of some unbelievably cruel comments over the years. As such he buried himself in multiple repair projects away from the others and surrounded by impartial machinery. But his interactions with the Exile had always been comfortable and over time he became her constant, her rock. From planet to planet as she tried to connect with Mira and attempted to settle dust-ups between Atton and Mical he was there. When she grieved for Kavar he was at her side with a kind word and a strong shoulder while the others bickered with one another. He supported her with his quiet intensity at every opportunity. In her mind's eye she could see him now-hunched over a small circuit panel with his remote hovering nearby. His features illuminated by the soft blue light that emanated from his repulsor arm. His dark eyes were completely focused, his jaw set as he trained his Macrofuser and the tiny web of electronics that lay before him. He was beautiful to her. She wondered if he knew.

Taking a deep breath she pushed herself upwards, standing. Her muscles screamed in protest, cutting the breath from her throat. She stopped, taking a few short, sharp breaths until her body adjusted. When she felt composed, she hobbled towards the balcony slowly exiting into the open air and letting the sunshine drench her body. The waves sparkled a brilliant blue and the cool saltiness in the air was exhilarating. The sun illuminated the myriad of colors in her bruises, black, purple, green and yellow. A horrid sort of beauty that she appreciated in a twisted sort of way, but something she knew she couldn't allow the others to see without alarming them.

Closing her eyes and turning her face to the sun, she thought of their first landing on Dxun. The jungle planet had been a lush, warm place teeming with life and a million opportunities to explore and learn. Not that it had made much difference to Atton and Mical. Atton had busied himself with getting the Hawk up and running again but cruelly sniped at Mical's offer to help. He hadn't expected her to overhear it but she had, exploding in anger at his childish behavior and Mical's unwillingness to defend himself. She had ordered them to spend every waking moment together until they either killed one another or got along and stalked off towards the Mandalorian camp, fuming. When she arrived, she learned of the missing components for the phase pulse converter and decided that a hunt with Bao would be an excellent way to ease the tension that had settled ominously in her heart.

She remembered how they had run through the jungle, cutting down and searching as many cannoks as they could find. It was a job that began at messy and ended at revolting but his easy presence and quiet humor made the task bearable. By the time they reached the Hawk again the incident with Mical and Atton was all but forgotten. They had all of the components but they were soaked through in cannok gore.

_Bao grinned, raising an eyebrow at her, "The fresher awaits general." he said, chuckling softly._

_She smiled, eyeing the innards that covered his clothing, "Are you sure? You look like you might need it a bit more than I do."_

_"I insist, ladies first," he said warmly. His voice had a singularly gentle, rich timbre that sent shivers up her spine._

_"Well, if you insist," she replied, "I'll just secure these components in the cargo hold and dirty the fresher up for everyone else. I won't be long."_

_She gathered the pieces up in her arms and walked up the entrance ramp to the Hawk. Once inside the cargo bay she noticed that something was missing. The smallest component of the three must have fallen out somewhere along the way. She carefully eyed the floor and slowly retraced her footsteps towards the outside. It lay just at the top of the ramp. She dropped to one knee to pick it up and froze in place as her eyes drifted towards the waterfall. Apparently Bao Dur had decided not to wait for the fresher and was standing naked under the pounding falls scrubbing away the grime of the day with his rough, calloused hands. Her breath caught in her throat and she wobbled, nearly losing her balance. Steadying herself with her hand, she moved back into the shadows out of sight and watched. The water poured in rivulets down his powerful chest, along his solid thighs and she traced its path hungrily with her eyes. His repulsor arm truly was a technological marvel; it was functioning in spite of the water and illuminating the exquisite shape of his abdomen as he washed. She could not tear herself away from the sight of his wholly thick and well-muscled body. His easygoing personality was at direct odds with the raw sexuality that his physique exuded and desire flared in her in a way that she had only ever felt once before. She knelt, watching in the shadow of the Hawk until he moved forward reaching for his clothing. She jerked out of her reverie and fell back into the belly of the Hawk, quickly stowing the rogue part away and heading straight for the fresher. Once inside she spent twenty minutes with the water set to as icy as she could stand it._

She smiled to herself at the memory. It was one that had surfaced continually in their travels and had been something that she had to continually push aside in order to focus on the task at hand.

But not today.

Today was a rare day to allow for indulgences. She let every nuance she could recall swim through her thoughts and sighed softly to herself. Feeling centered she re-entered the room and carefully pulled on an ivory silk robe that hung nearby.

She needed to see him.


	2. Chapter 2

The Exile paused, glancing left and right down the hallway. For the moment it was abandoned and she breathed a sigh of relief. She padded silently into Bao's room, shutting the door behind her. There was a marked difference in his space, the room itself was virtually identical to her own but where he lay was surrounded by various pieces of medical equipment. His upper body was wrapped in layers of gauzy dressings but his face was virtually unscathed. Sensing movement in her peripheral vision she turned quickly but was met with only a mirror.

The sight was disturbing.

The left side of her face was swollen and covered in bruising, from her brow bone to her chin. Her dark brown iris was surrounded by bloody red broken vessels and the lid was blackened around it. Reaching upwards, she began to pull some of her straight dark hair over her face until she could bear to look at it.

Satisfied, she continued on, finding a small, ivory stool near his side. She sat and leaned in close, whispering "I don't know if you can hear me…but it's over…you did it, the generator is destroyed…" She leaned back once more, aching to take his hand, to touch him for the first time but also fearing that she would disturb his injuries. She reached forward, brushing the exposed tips of his fingers with her own.

"I never thought I would ever have to worry about hurting you," she murmured, smiling ruefully. She withdrew her hand and folded it in with the other on her lap. She allowed her eyes to drift wistfully over his unconscious form. Every angle, every muscle appeared to be carved from smooth, dusky stone. He was a wounded angel to her and she longed to look into his warm, brown eyes again.

She shook her head.

"What are you doing?" she thought, "When he wakes up he's going to do one of two things, leave you or become your student. There is no emotion, there is peace…"

As she struggled with her own ruminations the door burst open, admitting a harried looking Shaelas followed by the majority of her crew. "I am so sorry," said the flustered Selkath, "I tried to honor your request but the moment that I revealed that you had regained consciousness they demanded admittance. Your droid threatened to remove my entrails! The Mandalorian promised to wear them as a belt! I didn't know what to do!"

She chuckled in spite of herself, "It's alright Shaelas, I should have expected as much after three days. I apologize for their…over-enthusiasm but I must say that I am impressed that you managed to hold them off for as long as you did."

"[Statement: Master, by 'holding off' do you mean 'sobbing hysterically' for ten minutes before we could extract directions?"

"Good to see you too HK," she laughed, "And yes, whatever works."

"[Statement: You are a cunning one, well played Selkath."

Shaelas looked as perplexed as was possible for one of his species. "Be that as it may," he replied, "But this room is currently off limits to all visitors. The energy in this space is specifically attuned to his healing requirements. The presence of other sentients is disrupting it."

"I'm so sorry," the Exile said, rising as quickly as her protesting body would allow, "I had no idea, I just wanted to see for myself."

"That's quite alright, Mistress," Shaelas said kindly, "When he comes out of sedation it will be quite alright to visit but until then might I suggest that you adjourn this meeting to your suite?"

"Of course," she said, "It's just next door everyone." She motioned towards the exit and they began to file out ahead of her. With their backs turned she was free to move as slowly as the pain would allow.

They crowded out, angling towards her door but Mical fell back. She wiped away all traces of discomfort from her features and affected the most normal gait as was possible. He stopped and faced her, his pale blue eyes awash with concern. "Surely such stoicism is unnecessary at this point, Master?" he asked.

"Stoicism? Don't be silly, under the circumstances I think I've fared pretty well." she replied calmly. She couldn't fool him. Her young Padawan was tied to her in a very different way than the others. He reached forward, gently moving the hair away from the battered side of her face, frowning.

"I assume this bruising extends to a few other places?" he asked softly.

"A few…" she admitted.

"I have developed something in our travels," he said, carefully lowering the strands back in place, "a balm that may help. I will check with the Selkath, if they feel it will be of use and it does not conflict with your treatment the I will see that you have a supply of it."

"Thank-you Mical," she said, smiling gently, "I would appreciate that very much."

He flushed with pleasure and turned, linking one arm into hers, supporting her back into her room. Once inside she took a quick head count of those present. Three were missing.

"Where's Atton, Mira and Visas?" she asked.

"The Hawk took one hell of a beating, Princess," Canderous replied, "Your pilot has been busting his tail since we got here. Mira went to get him when she heard you were awake."

She nodded, "And Visas?"

"She's gone," Mical replied gently, "The destruction of Malachor triggered a series of visions within her. She was compelled to return to her home world, to look upon the surface one more time. She has extended her apologies and has promised to return."

"I understand," she said, "Visions can be a powerful thing."

"Yeah, well she's not the only one who's taken off," came a voice from the doorway. She turned to face Mira and Atton as they entered. Beaming she gently embraced them both, stopping at Atton and looking him in the eye.

"I hear you're been working overtime on the Hawk lately?" she asked.

"Yeah well, I needed to keep busy and this isn't much of a Pazaak town," he drawled.

"Don't overdo it, ok?" she said, "There's plenty of us to help out and Bao Dur will be up again soon."

"Gotcha chief," he said, in mock salute but his eyes betrayed his exhaustion. She gave his forearm a gentle, supportive squeeze.

"Now," she said, facing Mira, "What's this I hear about someone taking off?"

"Onasi," she replied, "He's gone. Took off to the Outer Rim by himself just after we arrived. Left some Admiral Shan in charge."

"Bastilla Shan?" she asked incredulously, "Did he say why?"

"Sorta," she replied, "After Malachor he told us that he'd had visions of someone dear to him. Someone who's in trouble…trapped beyond the Rim, so he went. Also, you should know that he took T3 with him."

Revan.

She felt joy rise within and she wished them both the best inside. "I see, well T3 was more his than he was ours anyhow but I have to say that I'm going to miss the little guy," she said, "I am glad to see you're all here. Perhaps we should take this opportunity to discuss what comes next?"

Settling in she spent the next hour asking each individual present what their wishes were. Mandalore felt that he had spent far too much time away from his men and was planning to return to Dxun as soon as possible. HK was set in his programming and vowed to stand by her no matter what the circumstances. She formally offered the opportunity to become Padawan learners to Atton and Mira and they accepted, joining the ranks with Visas.

"What about Bao Dur?" Mira asked.

"Like you, I will offer Bao the chance to join you all as a Padawan learner. If he accepts then he will complete his training with you and aid in the rebuild of the Jedi temple. If not then he is free to choose his own path. In the meantime, I suggest you take this time to relax and enjoy the beauty of Manaan. We will be here until we are all capable of travel again. Then I suggest we head to Dxun so that Mandalore might rejoin his men. It is also an excellent site to learn and train before we undertake the monumental task of the temple rebuild. Who knows, we might even be helpful." she said, winking at Mandalore who nodded slowly in response.

Again the door opened, "I am sorry to disturb you Mistress, but your physician has arrived. Now that you are awake he would like to conduct a full examination and administer some tests."

"Of course Shaelas," she replied, "Ok, we'll leave it there for tonight. Please go and enjoy yourselves, you've earned it." As she spoke her eyes locked with Atton's and she could see that he had caught her intention.

"Very well," Mical said, herding the others towards the door, "Good night Master, we will return in the morning."

"Good night, everyone," she replied.

They all filed out into the hall but Atton remained behind. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him and he raised his arm, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Look…" he began, "There's no easy way to do this so I'm just going to say it. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know for all the fighting with Mical, for being so jealous of his time with you. I just wanted to tell you…" he trailed off.

She smiled at him, "What brought all of this on?"

"You were right about that old witch," he replied, "She took things in me that were small, controllable and pushed them so hard that I thought I was going insane. I was jealous of him and half crazy over you. With her gone I feel like I'm back in charge so I just wanted to apologize and say thanks. Thanks for putting up with it and taking me on as a Padawan."

"That is the best thing I've heard in a long time," she said quietly, "Have you spoken to Mical at all?"

"Yeah, we made nice a couple of days ago and he's been helping me out on the Hawk. He's a smart kid, he's picking it all up pretty fast." he said.

"And you feelings are…clear?" she asked delicately.

"Yeah," he said, "Look, I'm not saying that you don't fill out a dancer's costume nicely and all but you're my Master now and I think I can live with that without going crazy."

"I am so glad to hear it," she said warmly, "I promise that when I'm out of here we'll work on defending your emotions. Considering how good you are at protecting your thoughts it should be easy. I don't want anyone to ever do that to you again."

"Thanks," he said, meeting her eyes and she could see the depth of his sincerity, "Ok, I'm leaving before this gets all awkward. Good night."

"Good night, Padawan."


	3. Chapter 3

"Mistress…"

The tendrils of a whisper curved like fingers through the Exile's sleeping brain pulling at her reason, tugging at her logic and drawing her back to reality.

"Mistress Jedi…"

It was more insistent now and she opened her eyes a small crack. She glanced at the illuminated gold digits on the ivory chronometer in front of her; it read 2:25am.

"Yes Shaelas?" she replied, the sleep heavy in her voice.

"I am sorry to disturb you at this hour but your companion has awakened," he said, "He is calling for you."

Her eyes snapped open to attention and she pulled herself upright. "Bao?" she asked, "Is he alright?"

"Yes Mistress," Shaelas replied gently, "However, he is still suffering from the after-effects of sedation. It can be very confusing to a patient when they awaken and he is most distressed. I did not wish to call you at this hour but as he is asking for you I thought your presence might have a calming effect…"

"Of course, Shaelas," she said kindly, "Just let me get myself together and I will be over as quickly as possible."

"Yes Mistress," he replied, bowing low and exiting the room.

Ignoring the burning sensation in her arms and legs, she stood and flicked on the lights. She crossed the room and reached for her robe, tying it as tightly as was comfortable and arranged her hair over the damaged side of her face.

As she exited into the hallway she thought of what might await her in the next room. Bao Dur in any kind of distress was virtually unimaginable, no matter what the circumstances in their travels he was the calm eye in the storm. Always cool under pressure, always soft-spoken and always in control.

Pushing the door open she slid in to the room; it was darkened with the exception of the light over his bed. He was surrounded by caretakers who blocked her view and while it was difficult to discern exactly what he was saying, the anguish in his tone was unmistakable.

Suddenly his panicked voice cut clearly through the room, "General…GENERAL…"

It was all she needed.

The Exile crossed the room in a flash. Blinded at the white hot stabbing sensation in her legs and biting her lip she inserted herself into the ring of Selkath that surrounded him. Bao Dur was awash in perspiration and writhing where he lay. His eyes were glassed over as he stared blindly into the blackness of his room. The gauze from his remaining arm had been removed and she could see the delicate new skin that had been grafted into place. It was a skillful job, matching his own seamlessly and she knew that when it had a few days to acclimate to the environment it would be completely indistinguishable from his own.

"Pardon me gentlemen," she said calmly, "but I think I can take it from here."

They took less than a pace backwards, unwilling to leave her alone in a potentially volatile situation but she ignored them. Reaching forwards and placing her hands gently on the sides of his face, she turned his line of sight towards her. He shrunk away from her slightly; unable to focus, "General…" he called.

"It's me Bao," she said softly, "I'm right here."

His eyes flared a brief recognition then they filled with blind anguish, "I'm sorry…" he muttered, "…I've failed you…"

"Failed me?" she asked softly, "No Bao..."

"It's over…" he muttered, "They're all dead…she's gone…"

He was hallucinating, that much was clear to her. Gently removing her hands from the side of his face, she brushed his tattoos with her thumbs and lowered him back to his pillow. Pulling in the ivory stool she sat as close to him as was possible, grasping his hand in her own. The Exile closed her eyes, reaching out to touch the confusion and panic that encircled him. It raged like a powerful storm, flailing at his consciousness but she pushed beyond, encircling him as best as she could with her own protection.

As she focused, he stopped thrashing and slowly sank into a heavy slumber. One by one the Selkath drifted towards the door, vanishing into the hallway until only Shaelas remained. "Thank-you Mistress Jedi," he whispered, "Hallucinations are a normal side-effect of heavy sedation but his reaction was so severe…I thought if he could be spared the experience, you would be able to help…"

She did not open her eyes or turn her head, her voice a low whisper, "Very few have walked his path…his mind has many horrors to draw from. You were absolutely right to call me. I think he will be alright for the rest of the night but I will remain here for a while if that is permissible."

"That will be fine," he replied, "If you need anything at all please do not hesitate to ask."

"I will," she said, "Goodnight Shaelas."

"Goodnight Mistress"

The Exile sat, grasping Bao's hand in deep meditation for the remaining hours of the night. She felt his ability to grasp reality slowly return and eventually drifted into a dreamless sleep at his side.

Morning.

Her sleep was broken by the sound of the waves and the light on her face. She still held his hand in her own and her head had fallen close to his hip. Moving into a proper sitting position she mouthed every expletive that came to mind. Sleeping in such a manner had just made the bad situation with her body worse. There was cramping in her neck, shoulders and back and she flushed when she realized that her robe was slung down over her shoulders making her look decidedly un-Jedi at the moment.

The Exile eyed Bao Dur cautiously; he appeared to still be in a deep slumber so she gently extricated her hands and stood. Her legs burned in protest and she mouthed all the expletives she could think of in other languages, ranging from Jawa to Huttese. Pulling her robe closed once more she hobbled silently towards his door, exiting into the hall and taking pains to close it quietly.

The floor was in full dayshift mode as medical staff milled about over open Med Charts engaged in intense discussion. It was the perfect opportunity to slip back into her own room unnoticed.

Shaelas was awaiting her with breakfast at the ready, "Good morning," he said, "I did not expect you to be needed for quite so long but I hope you will find everything to your liking."

"I'm know it will be," she said, "Actually, I wasn't planning to be gone all night but I fell asleep."

"Oh Mistress, you must be horribly uncomfortable," he said sympathetically, "Please eat something and I will draw you a therapeutic bath."

The Exile nodded and took her place at the table, picking at the variety of items that he had taken pains to arrange for her. It was a superb meal and as she ate she began to feel vaguely human again. When she was finished she headed towards the waiting tub.

"I have added a specific ocean salt that is meant to ease muscle pain and trauma," he explained, "Also, when you are finished, your student has provided a most remarkable balm if you wish to apply it to your injuries. We believe it will double the speed of the healing process. It really is rather ingenious."

"He's a very talented healer in his own right," she said warmly, "He's also very modest but I'm really quite proud of him."

"As well you should be," he said, "And now I will leave you to your ablutions. Good day, Mistress Jedi."

"Good day, Shaelas." she replied.

Removing her night clothes and dropping them into a waiting basket, the Exile took her first tentative steps into the steaming water. She sat carefully, slowly sinking up to her neck and sighed blissfully. The heat was loosening the knots that had formed overnight and soothing the ache in her bones. Taking her time, she savored the scent of the water and the sensation of being in an actual tub. In comparison to the fresher on the Hawk, it was pure luxury.

When she finally emerged she felt cleaner than she had in months and toweled off, reaching for Mical's balm. Applying it liberally to her bruising a sigh escaped once more at the cooling sensation in her limbs. Exiting into the main room and opening the closet she eyed her robes. The bath had done wonders for her aching body and made her feel ambitious. "Today…you wear pants!" she thought, eying the array of clean robes. Pulling out her most comfortable set she began to carefully dress. It all went well until the attempt to put on her belt. Her arms were still too stiff to reach behind and pull it around her waist. She attempted to lean forward and sling it around in order to grab the end but it slithered to the floor.

"Hutt spawn!" she growled.

Hearing the door open behind her she called to Shaelas, "Perfect timing, would you mind helping me with this?"

The Exile heard his footsteps as he approached and moving in behind her he took the belt from her hand. He slid his arms in around her waist and handed her the ends. She started as she looked down – one smooth, dark hand and one that was clearly mechanical. She heard a warm laugh coming from behind, "Will that be all General?"

Bao.

She dropped the belt and turned to face him. He was smiling with a warmth that reached all the way up to his dark brown eyes. His arm had been replaced with what appeared to be a jointed, powered durasteel limb.

"Bao," she said softly, "I'm so relieved to see you, are you alright?"

She wanted to throw her arms around him. She was fighting to maintain the dignity expected of a potential Master. But really, deep down that the only thing keeping her in check was the thought of damaging his new skin.

"I'm fine General," he said, "The Selkath have outfitted me with what they claim is the latest in prosthetic technology. I have to admit, it's pretty good but I will be modifying it the first chance I get. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said, "Nothing a little rest hasn't taken care of."

Suddenly he frowned, his eyes flicking to the hair that hung straight down over her left eye. He gestured to her cheek and asked, "What's that?"

The Exile eyed him warily for a moment, unsure as to whether or not she would appear weak in his eyes. His features were pure concern however and slowly she moved her hand up, pushing aside the strands of her hair and revealing the damage.

"How are you really?" he asked softly.

Feeling her cheeks burn she lowered her eyes. "Sore…and restless," she admitted, "My duties from this point on are clear and I want to get started but I have to wait for my body to catch up with me. Malachor has been my focus for so long…if it makes any sense, I feel a bit lost with it gone…"

"It makes perfect sense to me," he said, reaching down to pick up her belt.

"How are you…really?" she asked.

He straightened and met her eyes, reaching around her waist once more and bringing the ends together in front, "I'm not really sure yet, General. I guess I'm a bit lost as well…"

His fingers lingered on the smooth buckle. He was so close to her that she could feel the heat emanating from his body. He paused, holding her gaze tenderly in his own. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

The door burst open, shattering the momentary spell that they had been under and they moved apart quickly. It was Mandalore and he appeared to be highly agitated.

"We've got trouble," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

The Exile crossed the floor, peering intently at the T-bar on Mandalore's helm. His stance revealed absolutely nothing as to his state of mind but she could sense the severity of the situation as it flowed forth in waves, "What is it?" she asked.

"The encampment on Dxun has been attacked." he said.

"What?!" she hissed, her eyes widening.

"I don't know anything else," he muttered, "Braelor barely got a message through…there was an explosion. I've left them alone for too long, they're vulnerable and a successful attack could wipe us all out. I have to go."

"I hope you don't think you're going into this alone," she said firmly, folding her arms.

"No, as a matter of fact," he replied, "Atton's firing the Hawk right now and the others are ready but the Selkath seem to think you both need a few more days…observation…"

"Observation, huh?" she snapped, "You don't seriously think that I'm going to sit here because of a few bruises do you?"

"Look Princess, I know you've got more than a few bruises but it's your call," he said, his tone subdued.

The Exile had never had an encounter with Mandalore that didn't involve friendly sniping back and forth. He was uncharacteristically quiet and brooding and her heart filled with sympathy. She reached forward, grasping him gently by the wrist; the concern reflected in her eyes, "I won't turn my back on you or your men, Canderous. If you go, I go."

He tilted his helm towards her respectfully, "Glad to hear it Jedi, we leave in ten minutes." And with that he withdrew and vanished into the hallway.

The Exile flew towards the closet, grabbing a small satchel and cramming in the barest of essentials for the trip. Hooking her lightsaber onto her belt she slammed the door and turned towards Bao Dur, "It might take a few days to get word to you, I don't know what's waiting for us on Dxun but I promise that as soon as I can I'll let you know what's going on."

She caught Bao's expression full on, his face was blazing with intensity, as his jaw clenched.

"What is it?" she asked, confused.

"You are…very kind to him," he said softly.

She crossed the floor to where he stood, gazing into his dark eyes, "I thought you had made peace with your anger towards Canderous?"

Taking a deep breath, his expression softened, "I have for the most part," he explained, "I can't deny how valuable he's been in our travels and he's been loyal to you…but I can't seem to let it go completely. It's the stories, the swagger…it just makes me angry all over again sometimes."

"Might I make a suggestion?" she asked gently.

"Always," he replied warmly.

"I have found that the key with Canderous is to focus less on what comes out of his mouth and more on what he does." she said, "I know it sounds simplistic but for every harsh word there is a kind action to negate it. When you feel he is goading you towards anger just remember how much he has risked and how he has defended us."

Bao Dur was silent, pensive for a moment. "You care for him…don't you?" he asked.

"Yes I do," she replied, "Very much."

Catching the flinty spark in Bao's eye she continued, "But not like that. He's more like a big, grumpy overbearing father figure. He growls and snipes at me, he even calls me 'little girl' sometimes but whenever I've been in real trouble he's been there. He's risked everything to protect me…did you know that he saved my life on Malachor?"

Bao Dur's eyes flickered with surprise. "No…" he replied, "I had no idea…"

"He did." she continued, "On Malachor he was the only one who wasn't incapacitated, tending to the wounded or getting ready for take off. He cloaked himself and followed me right into the core of the academy. I should have died there but he pulled me out and kept me alive until he could get me to Mical. The thing is, he didn't even have to be there. He could have easily left us and gone back to his men but he stayed. He's a good man Bao, you must sense it."

"I am sorry General…" he murmured, "…I didn't know. But that will certainly help me put things in perspective. Perhaps when we have time you could meditate with me?"

"Anytime," she said, smiling warmly, "But now I have to head to the Hawk, take it easy for the next few days and I will let you know where you can meet us."

Bao paused as confusion flitted across his features, "Wait…" he said softly, "I'm not staying here, I'm coming with you."

"But you can't!" she exclaimed, "Your skin…"

"…is fine," he interrupted, "I won't stay here."

The Exile paused and eyed him appraisingly. His tone was mild once again but she could see the intensity, barely restrained that burned in his dark eyes. She knew that leaving him behind would be no easy task. "Let me see your arm…" she said.

He moved forward, rolling up his sleeve and held out his good arm to her. She placed her left hand under his elbow and pulled him towards her, tucking his forearm under her own and peering intently at the grafts. She ran her fingertips over the areas where new and old flesh joined, applying reasonable pressure but nothing moved. Noticing the heat of his hand near her waist she raised her eyes to his. He was so close to her, his head angled down towards her that she found it difficult to breathe. He was gazing at her with a peculiar expression that made the heat in her belly flare. It occurred to her that she may have accidentally overstepped the limit of conventional behavior for Zabraks. Was it acceptable for a female to just grab and examine a male in such a manner? What if being touched by a human was considered somehow vile or unacceptable? She flushed and gently released his arm, "You look good to me, but I want Mical to have the final say before we fly." she muttered.

He smiled warmly at her, "Agreed," he replied, and the rich timbre of his voice made her shiver. "But I need to stop by my room for a moment. I'm not exactly properly dressed." Standing back he turned his palms towards her. He was clad in only a large linen tunic and equally baggy black pants that seemed to cling in all the right places and fall away in others. She found herself staring at the chiseled strength of his legs and shook her head slightly, forcing her thoughts back to the situation at hand.

"Alright," she replied, "We'll grab your things and go, you can change on the ship."

The Ebon Hawk was a hive of activity when they arrived and the crew shouted a variety of whoops and greetings as they loaded supplies, checked armor and gathered weapons. The Exile smiled at them all warmly, it was like being thrust back into the heart of her family once more and she had missed them all. Heading into the Hawk, they aimed for the Med Bay where Mical was busily restocking the stim compartment.

"Room for two more?" she asked, grinning at his back.

Mical jumped to his feet, turning towards her with an expression of pure joy, "Master!" he cried, "And Bao Dur! Will you be joining us?"

"Perhaps," she said, chuckling at his exuberance, "I want you to clear Bao before we leave however."

"As you wish," he replied, "Might I ask if you would be willing to submit to an examination as well?"

"You certainly can ask," she replied smiling broadly as she headed back towards the hall.

He laughed at her retreating frame, "Alright," he called, "But if you are unable to tie your hair up and touch your toes you don't get to fight. On that point I must insist."

"You've got a deal," she laughed, continuing down the hall towards the Starboard Dorm.

Once inside, she dropped her satchel on a nearby bunk and retrieved a hairbrush. She paused and took a moment to centre herself, slowly raising her arms towards her head. She managed to get nearly parallel to the floor when pain shot through her muscles and the brush clattered to the floor.

"Can I help?" came a soft voice from the doorway.

She turned to see Bao smiling warmly at her, his powerful arms folded over his broad chest as he watched. "I need to keep trying if I'm going to fight tomorrow," she explained, "But you're welcome to watch, I assume you've been cleared?"

"Yes," he replied, "I'm fine but actually I was hoping that we could talk."

"Of course," she said, "Come in and pull up a footlocker."

As they got settled, they felt the Hawk engage pulling them towards open space and whatever awaited them on Dxun. "I need to apologize to you," he said.

"Apologize to me?" she queried, the confusion evident on her face.

"I've failed you immeasurably," he murmured, "I couldn't help you on Malachor…I couldn't save you. I'm…sorry."

He was so earnest in his intent, his features so filled with regret and undercurrents of pain that her heart seared and her eyes burned. She reached forward, taking his hands in her own and gazing into the lush, dark depths of his eyes, "Bao…" she whispered, choking on her own emotion, "You don't need to apologize to me, you nearly died…if you hadn't had the foresight to program your remote we would have all perished on Malachor. You didn't fail me, you saved us all."

She paused for a moment, feeling a selfish sort of regret for what she was about to ask. She had gotten used to having Bao on equal footing with her and felt a pang of loss when she considered their relationship changing to one of Master and Padawan. She took a moment to banish such thoughts and continued, "I've been thinking about this for a while...you're undeniably talented and it would be an honor for me to take you as Padawan…would you...could you consider it?"

He paused, took a deep breath and squeezed her fingertips gently.

"No…"


	5. Chapter 5

The Exile paused as the shock reverberated through her system. It was true that Bao's refusal had been a possibility all along; however, she had thought that it was a remote chance at best. For the first time the realization that he might leave them all behind hit her. It was impossible to hide the devastation in her eyes and she quickly looked towards the floor in embarrassment. "…No?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, General" he said gently, "But I can't." He removed his good hand from hers and raised it to her chin, tilting her face upwards. "Please, don't be upset. It's not what you're thinking and if you'll hear me out I promise I'll explain everything to you."

His deep brown eyes were filled with compassion as he stroked her cheek tenderly with his thumb. It took all of her control to maintain an even tone in her voice, "Of course," she said softly, "I will always listen to whatever you have to say."

He smiled at her in that shy way of his and it made her heart clench. "Thank-you," he said, "Only this isn't going to be easy for me to tell and I think it will be even harder for you to hear." He reached to the floor, retrieving the brush, "Would you mind turning your back to me? It's always easier for me to think when I'm doing something with my hands."

She eyed him cautiously, "Alright," she replied, "And I apologize for how this sounds but do you know how to use one of those?"

He chuckled lowly, "Yes, trust me. Most Zabraks have hair and believe it or not so did I before I got these," he said, gesturing towards the neat circlet of horns on his head.

She blushed as she turned to face the wall, "Sorry, but I had to ask." she said sheepishly.

There was a sound of metal scraping as he pulled his footlocker in close behind her, "It's alright," he replied. His hands were enormous – the mechanical version had obviously been built to scale. But his movements were surprisingly deft and gentle. He did not once pull or snarl her hair and she closed her eyes blissfully.

"I have to be honest," he began, "When you crash-landed on Telos I thought you weren't being entirely truthful with me about your memory loss. I didn't think it was possible for you to lose all of that time we spent together working on the shadow generator so I asked around. No one else really seemed to know much about it, so I thought that I'd take you at your word for the time being."

The Exile began to reflexively twist her fingers in her lap, she didn't know where he was heading but it was making her uneasy.

"But the longer I was on the ship the more it bothered me," he continued, "It was like I was a total stranger to you…the doubt just sort of lingered there in the back of my mind. I wasn't totally sure if you were being genuine or if it was an elaborate lie to push me away from you."

She stiffened.

"Please," he said, "I'm not accusing you of anything and believe me, if it was a lie then I would have deserved it and then some. For years I thought you hated me…"

"Hated you?" she asked quietly, gripping her fingers tightly, "Why would you ever think that?"

"Do you remember Dxun?" he asked, "The afternoon we spent together gutting cannoks?"

She felt her cheeks burn as the memory of him flooded back to her, his arms, his chest, his...

"Yes," she replied, "We talked a lot as we went, you asked me straight out about the memory loss."

"And do you remember what you told me?" he asked softly.

"I told you…I told you that it was tied directly to having the Force severed in me. That it was a necessity for those memories to be obliterated…that with the open wound in the Force echoing through me I was vulnerable…that all of those voices would come screaming back in…thousands of them…the first time, it nearly killed me…and that I was sorry because I really wanted to remember you…" she trailed off, her hands now trembling.

"Well, I believed you," he said as she listened to the unencumbered swish of the hairbrush, "As a matter of fact; I've been hiding the truth about me to keep you from remembering anything."

"But now…" she whispered, "Since the destruction of Malachor, the wound's closed."

"It is," he said, setting aside the brush and running his fingers through her newly untangled hair. She shivered.

"And if you will hear it, I'd like to tell you everything," he said.

She turned slowly, meeting his eyes and nodded wordlessly.

"Alright," he said, "Just please remember that I've only kept quiet for so long because I didn't know what this knowledge would do to you…I didn't want to be the one to rip open that door on you again…"

"Again?" she asked a little sharply.

"Yes," he said, "You are a Weapons Master much in the way that Kavar was. Others focus on different kinds of Mastery and some choose to dabble in several things. Mical will be a great Master Force Healer someday and Atton has the potential to be a Jedi Ace. But some of us…well some of us can just hear machinery through the Force. We can sense what's wrong without even looking; we can build and repair what might seem impossible to someone who isn't sensitive…"

She felt the intensity flash into her dark eyes, "We?" she asked with a severe undertone in her voice, "What are you trying to tell me?"

He paused, holding her gaze in his, "It would have been impossible for someone who wasn't Force sensitive to construct a technological nightmare like the Shadow Generator," he said, "It was something that came into being through guidance from the Force. The trouble with that is that when you draw inspiration from the light you leave yourself open to deception from the dark."

Her eyes widened.

"I was taken to the Jedi enclave when I was three years old," he said, "By the time I was ten I showed equal promise in weapons and technology and was made Padawan to Master Kavar. I was a Knight by eighteen and when I worked on the generator under your command I was taking my first steps towards Mastery…"

Kavar.

No…it wasn't right…it couldn't be right. She stood abruptly, moving away from him silently and nervously pacing the floor.

"Why don't I remember you from earlier? From the Enclave?" she asked anxiously.

"We didn't exactly move in the same circles back then," he said, "But it was something I wondered about as well until I found out that you also didn't remember Mical. He used to follow you around like a lost gizka…to forget him…well…I think that there are probably more holes in your memory than you know."

She gripped her elbows, "It doesn't make any sense…" she muttered, increasing the speed of her pace, "Kavar was different…if you were his Padawan then I would remember you…"

"I can't explain it," he said, "But we didn't really spend much time together until our work on the generator and by then…well, let's just say that the bond with my Master had been severed. But there's more…the night that you gave the command to activate the generator I heard them…thousands of men both ours and theirs as they crashed to their deaths. I thought I was going insane…I…died inside…but it was nothing compared to what happened to you. You collapsed and started to hemorrhage blood everywhere…from your eyes, ears, mouth…your stomach…they carried you out. I thought that I'd killed you…"

He paused, lowering his head and grasping at the sides, shoving his fingers between the horns. She crossed the room, standing just to the right of his shoulder, his tone was placid but his anguish was palpable. "The loss was catastrophic…" he continued, "It wasn't just the Mandalorians, it was our men too, our comrades…I…I destroyed my lightsaber on the spot…"

She reached down, grasping his firm shoulder supportively and squeezing gently. "When it was over," he continued quietly, "I had to get as far away from others as I could. I had killed so many…I couldn't stand the sight of other people, especially those who were kind to me…I didn't deserve it. I spent the first three years in total isolation. I vowed to never use a Force weapon again, whether it be a lightsaber or a power and I never have…standard weapons for defense only."

He stood, facing her, "You would have had every right to lie to me at the very least…or even to hate me…it was my creation, my activation that did this to you…I'm so sorry…"

She reached up, gently stroking his tattooed cheek, her eyes filled with sympathy, "I don't hate you," she whispered, "But this is a lot for me to take in…would you mind giving me some time to meditate on it?"

His eyes flickered with a small amount of relief, "Of course," he said, "You know where to find me when the time comes." For a moment he wavered, drawing near her but pulled back at the last moment. He turned, squeezed her hand gently and slipped out into the hall leading to the garage.

The Exile's tenuous hold on her composure all but shattered. She sank to the floor drawing her knees up close to her chest…it was so much to take in.

Kavar…


	6. Chapter 6

_**Dantooine**_

_**Three months before the destruction of the Mass Shadow Generator**_

"_Please…don't do this…" _

_Kavar's voice was strangled, barely a whisper as he grasped the sides of his desk. His knuckles were a stark white against the rich russet of its surface and he stared intently at the wall opposite, refusing to meet her eyes._

_She moved to where he stood, sliding her hand up along his spine in a gentle caress. "I've done everything you've asked of me," she murmured, "I've meditated with you; I've placed my faith in the council, I've waited…I can't ignore the war any longer…I have no choice but to leave."_

_He turned towards her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and gazing intently into her dark eyes, "You ALWAYS have a choice," he said, "War is not something to embrace. You have no idea what you are rushing towards or the implications you will face…"_

"_Is that what you think?" she hissed, shaking her shoulders from his grasp, "Do you honestly think that I haven't agonized about this decision?"_

_His expression was pained, "I know you have, but you have no concept of what it is to be at war," he said, "I do…you know I do…ignoring the council is one thing, but why would you ignore me?"_

_The intensity of the moment was too much for her; she turned on her heel and crossed the room folding her arms and grasping her elbows tightly. She wished that he would just get angry with her, to shout, to be totally unreasonable like Vrook...it would make leaving him so much easier. But he wasn't, he was ever gentle, ever kind and filled concern for her…it was very nearly impossible to look into his deep blue eyes and walk away._

"_I'm not ignoring you…" she whispered, "Quite the opposite…don't you know by now that everything you say, every look, every accidental touch resonates inside me? This isn't about you..."_

_He crossed the room, standing dangerously close behind her, "What do you mean?" he asked._

"_You know that I form connections to others in a way that most cannot," she replied, "It binds my students to me but there is a price for such an ability. I don't know how this has happened or why but I can hear them Kavar…millions of innocents as they are cut down along the Outer Rim…it is muffled…distant but it is there, especially at night. I can't ignore it anymore…don't tell me that I can't possibly understand the magnitude of war…do you know how many children I hear?" _

_He was silent but placed a strong, supportive hand on her back._

_She turned to face him, drinking in the sight of the soft silver-blonde waves of his hair and the square of his jaw, "I am leaving Kavar and nothing will change that...I don't want our last moments together to be spent in anger…"_

_Her hands slid upwards to the roughened warmth of his face, his dark blue eyes reflected a powerful internal struggle but he did not move away from her. Leaning in she kissed him very gently. He pulled back, "Please…"he whispered._

"_No…" she murmured, "For years we have lived together, worked together and stifled all natural impulses...I know you have…I've felt it…that ends tonight..." She kissed him again, catching his bottom lip between her teeth. He stiffened momentarily; stifling a gasp and feeling his resolve slip away. He pulled her close, kissing her passionately, almost desperately as she tugged at his robes. With one gentle Force push his desk was cleared and they moved towards it, shirking various layers as they went. She leaned back, pulling him towards her - a moment of short, sharp pain and there was nothing else in the universe but blissful oblivion. _

The Exile's eyes snapped open; the memory had overtaken her like a tidal wave. She had spent hours in meditation but her consciousness was continually drawn back to that moment in time. In her mind's eye she could feel the cool surface of the desk and the heat of his skin beneath her hands. That morning before the last kiss goodbye he had vowed to protect her from the wrath of the council. He had been her first love and to watch him as he sat placidly during her hearing in the Jedi Temple months later had been more than she could bear. The price for her faith in him had been exile. She had met his eyes as she stabbed the centre stone with rage, unblinking and unrepentant.

She had hated him.

It was unfathomable that she could have forgotten the Padawan to the one man who had played the most important role in her life. By the time she left for the wars she had been professionally paired with Kavar for two years, instructing younglings in basic weapons techniques while he had supervised the senior students. The time she had spent working on the generator had been virtually obliterated from her memory, but he was the constant in the time that led up to that period. The fragments that returned to her always involved him, her loneliness without him, the nausea that the stress had brought on and the meals that she had missed because of it. It just didn't add up to her that Bao did not, even knowing that she had also forgotten Mical.

Checking her chronometer she realized that she had less than an hour left in flight so she headed towards the Medical Bay to get clearance.

"Are you feeling better, Master?" came Mical's soft voice as she entered.

"Sorry?" she asked.

"I have felt your turmoil and have wanted to aid you," he said, "However, there is something distinctly private about it…I decided that the best course would be to reserve action until you were ready to speak to me. Was I correct?"

The Exile crossed the floor, smiling warmly at her young Padawan, "You were absolutely correct as usual," she said, "But, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied.

"How…how in the name of the universe could I have forgotten you?" she frowned.

His pale blue eyes were thoughtful, "Perhaps due to necessity?" he replied, "Your mind has deliberately obliterated anything that would remind you of the Mass Shadow Generator and that would include me."

Seeing the shock that spattered across her features he continued quickly, "Please do not mistake my meaning, I had nothing to do with the construction or activation of the generator. However, after I left the academy I did some basic espionage for the project and you would have encountered me on a few occasions."

"But that seem so minor!" she implored, "That a few meetings could wipe away years in the Enclave? And what of your instructors? I remember all of them and some of them were very close friends of mine, wouldn't that trigger something? Anything?"

"I do not believe that it would necessarily," he replied, "The brain is a highly prioritized organ. It meets your most basic and urgent needs first after which the others fall into place. Survival is the most basic need of any creature, above food, above shelter and above memory. I believe that normally your ability to recognize me would be tied to the Enclave but I think that your mind has prioritized your survival. I am no longer tied to anything in your mind; it has overridden those triggers to protect you."

It was a simple thing but it made so much sense to the Exile and she sighed with relief, "Thank-you Mical," she said kindly, "You've helped me more than you could possibly know…but, if you don't mind I'd like to be cleared for battle?"

"You are welcome Master," he replied, "I have something here that I must complete but if you would like to meet me in the garage in ten minutes we will begin?"

"That sounds good to me," she said, heading into the hallway, "And Mical? Thanks again…"

He colored to the roots of his hair and smiling shyly, he returned to his work.

She continued on to the Garage, pulling her hair up into a tight knot and grabbing a practice weapon from storage. Bao sat at the workstation, his head tilted towards the open panel in his mechanical forearm. His dark brown eyes were focused on the Macrofuser he held in his good hand as components floated from the work surface and into the small opening. She paused for a moment; his progress in such a short time had been nothing short of astounding. He had incorporated a large, glowing blue energy cell in the outer side of his upper arm and another just below along the forearm.

"Hello General," he said softly without turning from his work.

He had always known when she was nearby, it was one of the first things that alerted her to his Force sensitivity and she smiled.

"Hello Bao," she replied.

Replacing the last component he returned the Macrofuser to its place and turned to face her, "I take it you've come to terms with what I've told you?" he asked, smiling gently.

"Yes," she replied, "Actually I was just wondering how many other Masters have gotten the offer to become a Padawan."

"I'm sure Master Vrook would have been very sympathetic and understanding if you'd tried it on him." he replied and they both laughed. "I'm glad you're this relaxed, I was worried that once the shock wore off you'd be angry with me."

"No Bao," she replied, "I was never angry, more shocked that you were Padawan to Kavar and that I couldn't remember you. We used to be very close…"

"I know," he said, his voice lowering to a whisper, "I mean…I didn't know for certain but I could feel the connection when you were around…I'm sorry if I unearthed any painful memories…"

"No Bao, that was a very long time ago," she replied, "We did reconcile a bit on Onderon however and I've made my peace with it. What upsets me the most is not being able to remember you…and I wish I could more than anything..."

He moved towards her, placing his warm hand gently on her battered cheek, "Your beautiful face…" he murmured, running his thumb lightly over her bruising and drawing nearer to her.

The sound of footsteps just outside the Med Bay clanged on the metal flooring, drawing ever closer to the garage.

He leaned in quickly and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was fleeting but warm and coursed through her veins like electricity. She shivered as he gently released her and turned back towards the workbench.

His timing was perfect as the footsteps rounded the corner.

"Are you ready Master?" came Mical's bright voice from the entryway.


	7. Chapter 7

Screaming.

The Exile could hear the agonized sound of soldiers both Mandalorian and Marauder alike as ordinance rounds tore them apart. She raced through the smoke, lightsaber aloft, carving a path through to Mandalore's former headquarters. She had not expected to encounter a Sith Battalion; she had assumed that with the deaths of Nihilus, Sion and Kreia that their ranks would have been thrown into disarray.

She was wrong.

Her weapon was a beacon, drawing the dark soldiers to her position. Somehow they recognized her, swarming her by the dozens. Her limbs had protested at first during the beginning of the battle. But as she pushed forward the continual movement had allowed her to regain most of her range of motion. She deflected the strikes of four Marauders with her double-blade and whirling to the left, she threw her hand forward. The ensuing Force strike blasted another four away from her. Turning back, she spun, swinging her weapon left, then quickly right impaling the midsections of two of her attackers.

Bao was close behind firing at those she had pushed away and felling two of them. She could hear the sounds of Atton, Mical and Mira's blades as they fought and knew just where they stood based on the variation of noise. Mandalore was fighting more savagely than she had ever seen him; HK was joyously at his side firing madly at the throngs of troops that encircled them both.

She launched her body upwards, spinning into a power attack and bringing the left side of her blade down right next to her opponent's neck, cleaving him straight down the sternum. As he fell, she rounded on two more and spun her clean silver blade until the edges blurred, forcing them backwards. Pushing forward and jabbing left to right she severed the arm of one and the torso of another. She heard a roar directly behind her and turned just in time to see a Marauder with his weapon soaring towards her head. Before she could react, Bao's mechanical fist collided with the Sith's head, shattering his skull and spattering them both with blood.

"Thanks," she gasped. And they ran, pressing forward to their objective.

Most of the afternoon passed in this manner as they slowly advanced to headquarters, facing nearly unbelievable odds. The camp had been overrun with Sith soldiers but the tenacity of the Mandalorians had been nothing short of inspiring. They had suffered very few losses, and the excitement of their victory was infectious. Spirits were high among the warriors as they cleared the camp and the Exile knew that the celebrations that night would be rowdy and unlikely to end before dawn. 

Her crew was only too happy to join in with both the cleanup and the inevitable party that followed. She had to laugh in spite of herself at the new camaraderie between Atton, Mira and Mical. At that moment, Atton was laughing uproariously at the expression on Mical's face – he had just been on the receiving end of a playful swat across the bottom from Mira. Bao had disappeared to help with the new damage to the telemetry system and all that remained was to debrief with Canderous. She passed numerous bonfires along the way, smiling at the songs and jokes she overheard as she went. 

Headquarters was deathly silent; Mandalore was bent over his terminal running diagnostics on the systems that Bao was repairing on the other end. The Exile cleared her throat.

"Yeah, whadda you want?" came the sneering reply.

"It's me Canderous," she replied.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her, "Oh," he said, "Glad to see you, look I wanted to say thanks for everything you did today. I don't know if we'd have as much to celebrate about if you hadn't come along for the ride."

She smiled wryly at him, "I said I wouldn't abandon you and I meant it. I am just glad that you have had so few losses."

"We lost Braelor," he said quietly, "He died like a hero though, I found him still clutching the Comm Terminal."

"I'm sorry Canderous," she said, crossing the floor, "I don't know who's behind this but I promise you I'll find out. Marauders never act without someone behind them to pull the strings."

"Yeah, we're questioning one that lost an arm right now," he replied, "I'm not expecting much so anything you can add would be a big help…thanks kid…thanks for not cutting out when the heat was on."

She smiled at him, "Always," she said turning towards the exit, "Do you need anything else?"

"Not for tonight," he said, "But you may want to take care of that face of yours and get some rest."

"I will," she replied, "Good night Canderous."

Exiting back into the encampment she suddenly felt very tired. It seemed that since her days at the Enclave her entire life had been a series of battles one after the other. She gazed up at the full moon that hung in the sky, bathing the surface in cool, silvery light and she thought of everything she had lost. Suddenly the noise and merry lights of the bonfires held no appeal to her. 

She crossed as inconspicuously as was possible through the camp and headed down the pathway towards the Ebon Hawk. The route was abandoned by both man and beast - the former due to the celebrations and the latter due to the heavy fighting. She doubted she would have to face another cannok or maalraas for a couple of days. 

As she walked she thought of her last meeting with Kavar. "I'm sorry we didn't have more time," she whispered to the stars.

Reaching the clearing that held the Hawk she slowed her pace and stopped by the waterfall. It was a roaring, silver ribbon that glowed in the moonlight and she found the rushing sound of the water immensely soothing. She knelt by the edge, swirling her hands in the warm pool and raising them to her face. She felt some of the dried blood as it fell away. There was an element of purification in her movements and she found herself standing once again, dropping her belt and outer robes to the ground nearby. Clad in only a thin chemise and underwear she stepped into the pool, sighing blissfully at the water as it enveloped her. She pulled her hair loose and submerged letting it fan out in all directions around her like Wander-kelp. Turning her head towards the sky she re-emerged and opened her eyes. 

Something was there, lurking in the darkness.

Launching upwards in the direction of her gear she twisted and landed, grabbing up her silver double-blade and igniting it. 

Bao.

Seeing the familiar angles of his face in the glow of her weapon she immediately extinguished it and dropped it back onto of her robes, "Bao!" she hissed, "You scared the hell out of me!"

"I scared you, General?" he asked smoothly in an amused tone, "You're pretty quick on the draw, I didn't know you were there until I saw the blade under my nose."

Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled at him, "Sorry about that."

His eyes ranged over her body, taking in the lack of clothing and the chilled skin and she found herself suddenly shy. He met her eyes, "You really took a beating for us, didn't you?" he asked softly.

Mical's balm had worked wonders, she had the majority of her movement back and most of the dark purple bruising had faded to a sickly green. But the marks were still there, running the length of her arms and legs. She crossed her arms, shivering in the moonlight, "It's not as bad as it looks," she replied softly.

He moved towards her, "You don't look bad to me; I just wish I'd been able to take some of those for you…"

They stood silently for a moment, gazing at each other under the gentle wash of moonlight and stars when he suddenly reached down, untying and removing his boots.  
Standing once again he reached to his work coveralls, undoing the snaps and letting them fall.

"Wh…what are you doing?" she asked nervously.

He pulled off his shirt, revealing an immensely powerful chest and she felt her palms begin to sweat. Grabbing her hand he pulled her towards the pool, "Come on," he whispered, "I want to show you something."

He jumped in to his knees and she followed back into the warm water that immediately removed the chill of the night air. He waded directly into the falls and disappeared. She watched for a moment and took a deep breath, following behind.

The water pounded on her shoulders and she felt a strong hand grab her wrist and pull her forward up onto a warm stone floor. Behind the falls lay an immense cavern, tall enough to stand in that retreated into the hill for several feet. It was filled with ghostly silver crystals that seemed to match the pure light of the falls and the moon that lay beyond. They seemed to resonate with a serenity that filled the entire cavern. 

"What is this place?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm not sure," he replied, "I discovered it when we first landed on Dxun, the crystals here have some remarkable properties. Touch one."

She leaned forwards, gently running her hand along the closest crystal. It emitted a soft, low humming sound, beautiful and delicate so she moved to the next. As soon as her contact with the first crystal was removed it ceased to resonate but the new one began, slightly higher this time.

"This is amazing," she whispered.

"Try to take it," he replied, his voice carrying an undertone of amusement.

She tried to snap it off but it wouldn't come. She pulled and tugged eventually trying with all of her strength but it wouldn't budge.

He laughed lowly at her, "I guess that one wasn't meant for you, just try touching one you like."

She gazed around the cavern taking in the various shapes and sizes of the crystals and running her hands over them. She spotted a smaller crystal, almost perfectly sized for her lightsaber that continually drew her eye. She reached upwards to the corner it was tucked into and its resonance seemed to echo in her very core. It fell away from the wall and into her hand. She turned towards Bao, flushed with glee and smiling in the pale light, "I think this one may want to go with me," she said.

Her enthusiasm was intoxicating to him, "You may be right," he replied softly, opening a small compartment on his arm, "You can store it in here if you like."

She moved towards him and placed it inside, "You really have made some interesting changes with this limb, haven't you?" she said.

"It's not just for show," he said, smiling softly at her.

She met his dark brown eyes with her own, matching his tender expression, "Thank-you for showing me this Bao…thank-you for everything today…" she whispered, reaching up to run her fingertips along his tattoos, "I really do wish I could remember our time together before all of this…I'm sorry that you seem to know me so well and everything is so new to me…"

He slid his arms gently around her waist, tilting his head towards her, "Don't worry about it," he said, "The Mandalorian Wars were filled with death, destruction and misery. I feel like I've only truly gotten to know you since Telos. Certainly, this is a bit more intimate than any time I spent with my general back then."

She smiled at the mirth that reflected in his dark eyes, "I did wonder," she said, "You know, you really don't have to call me General anymore…"

"I never really have," he murmured, lowering his lips to hers. His kiss was gentle and achingly sweet at first but deepened passionately as she responded. She wrapped her arms around his neck, intoxicated by his vaguely spicy taste and the warm scent of his skin. Running her hands up along his neck she thrust her fingers in between the base of his horns, gently curling her fingers back and forth. He made a guttural noise in the back of his throat and lowered her gently to the warm stone floor of the cavern. In a moment he had disposed of the little clothing that she wore and his own. The pale light washed over his body and she stared hungrily at the sight of the raw power that it exuded. He took time to kiss every bruise, every scar that she had taken away from battle; his lips were like a brand on her cool skin. Her legs began to tremble violently with desire and he raised his head, meeting her eyes.

"Please…" she begged.

In a moment they were one. He was so careful with her; she could feel the massive amounts of power that he held in restraint, his body thick and warm against her. The crystals in the cave seemed to resonate with their passion, reflecting her soft sighs back in warm vibration. Eventually they reached a fevered pitch as he arched his back and cried out sharply.

They spent the entire night as one, hidden from the demands of the outside world, bodies entwined until the reached near complete exhaustion. With their remaining strength, they rose from where they lay, took a last longing look at the cavern and headed through the falls once more. Grabbing up their clothes they ran towards the Hawk. The Exile laughed wildly at the feel of the night air on her bare skin, she had never felt so free. Fortunately the ship was abandoned so they headed to the Starboard Dorm, collapsing into a warm bunk together with her robes thrown over the sheets for warmth. They fell into a comfortable sleep in one another's arms, free of discomfort, free of misery and free of worry. She had never felt so complete.


	8. Chapter 8

The Exile turned gently, stretching like a maalraas and sighing blissfully. She slid her hand across the cool, empty sheets and opened her eyes a crack. Bao had gone but the pale silver crystal remained on the pillow next to her cheek. Smiling, she pulled it into her palm and listened as its song resonated within her. It was quite round, no larger than her own eye. Holding it up to the light, she peered through the glistening, milky swirls that lay within and wondered what properties it would add to the beams of her double-blade.

She pushed back the tangle of sheets and robes, placing her feet firmly on the floor and returning the crystal to her pillow. For the first morning in days there was no pain and no burning in her bones. The Exile took a quick glance at the pale green bruising on her arms and legs, took a deep breath and stood. Moving away from the bunks she bent low, grabbing her ankles and touching her forehead to her knees. The exertions of the previous day had done wonders for her range of motion. Straightening, she slowly leaned backwards and lowered her palms to the floor, walking her hands towards her heels until they met. She raised one leg high into the air followed by the other and pointed her toes in a perfect handstand. It was exhilarating to be able to move in such a manner once again. She found herself extending her focus to the footlockers that lay on the floor, slowly raising them into the air and rotating them in opposite directions.

Just when she felt secure in her stance the realization hit that she had been engaging in all of these exercises completely naked. "What if someone walks in?" her mind whispered sharply.

Canderous?

Her mouth twitched and the footlockers wobbled as she bit back on her laughter. She could almost hear his gravelly voice snapping in her ear, "What the HELL are you doing?" The Exile took a deep breath and re-doubled her efforts.

Atton?

The footlockers dipped sharply as her ribcage shook with mad, strangled giggles. "Well, well, wellllllll…" her mental Atton drawled.

Mical?

BANG!

BANG!

"MASTER?!" the Mical in her mind squeaked. The Exile dropped her feet to the floor and crumpled into a sitting position, laughing wildly. She laughed until she could barely breathe, more than she had in years as tears coursed down her cheeks. 

Something inside her had been liberated. For the first time since she left the Enclave and Kavar she felt truly free. She was no longer crushed under the weight of guilt, betrayal and loss. Her thoughts were clear, focused like a blade and ready to tackle the enormous responsibilities that lay ahead.

Gathering her composure once more she stood, and quickly tidied the dorm. She grabbed her things and headed towards the fresher. Her chronometer read 10:30am and even though the rest of the ship was silent she felt a strong urge to get a jump on the day.

Bao.

The Exile flushed as she rinsed her hair. It was entirely possible that she would never look at running water again without thinking of him. The depth of his brown eyes, the smooth etchings of tattoos that curved along his face, the taste of his skin, and the muscular curve of his naked thighs…she felt her knees wobble slightly. His absence hadn't bothered her in the slightest. She knew that his intent was entirely honorable and she couldn't bring herself to worry. "Perhaps that's how it should be…" she whispered into the spray.

Exiting, she quickly dried off and put on all of the undergarments to her Jal Shey armor. Her limbs had been too tender to handle the weight and pressure of anything other than robes since Malachor but today she felt like putting on all of her favorite gear. She turned to the mirror and began to pull her hair into an elaborate updo but stopped short when she saw her face - all of the bruising had completely vanished. Her skin was equally pale and smooth on both sides. "How…?" she whispered, running her hand along the clean, new skin on her cheek and smiling broadly. Finishing her hair she retrieved the rest of her armor, boots and belt and put them on, clomping down over the entrance ramp of the Hawk as she secured her lightsaber to her side.

The Exile ran towards the encampment, jumping over twisted roots and vines, feeling the heat of the sun on her back and the coolness of the breeze as it whipped past her temples. She took the time to truly enjoy the speed and beauty of the motion, a physical representation of the freedom inside. It was wonderful to move in such a manner without being chased. 

Arriving at the camp, she slowed her pace to a dignified walk and turned towards headquarters. Along the way she passed the bonfires, some of which were still smoldering and surrounded by the empty Juma containers that littered the site. Some of the Mandalorians were asleep where they had fallen and she laughed as she came upon her Padawans. Ever the gentleman, Mical was sleeping soundly on his back on the ground with his outer robe spread out. Atton and Mira had both passed out in a heap on his torso, still clutching tankards. She took a moment to gently move Atton into a less intimate position on the ground with space between them. They had made so many strides toward friendship and she didn't want them to awaken to a fight. Fortunately Atton had consumed so much Juma that he did not stir from his sleep but rather snored soundly, clutching his tankard close to his chest.

Smiling she moved on and entered headquarters where Canderous stood. He was by himself in a flurry of activity and sipping caffa as the morning sun shone in on his battle-scarred face. He really was remarkably handsome for a man of his age, tough and hulking but so self-sufficient that she wondered if he ever got lonely.

"Good morning, Canderous," she called warmly.

He raised an eyebrow in her direction, "Almost good afternoon," he replied crustily and she grinned, "Caffa?" he asked, gesturing at the pot on the workstation.

"Sure," she replied, reaching for a cup, "How was your night?"

"Didn't get much from that Marauder," he said, "The little Chakaar vanished."

"Vanished?" she said sharply, shooting him an eyebrow.

"I have no idea how," Canderous said, "All I got out of him was that they were here for 'practice' and that took hours. I left for a jolt of caffa and when I came back the Force cage was empty."

"That's virtually impossible…" she murmured, "But practice? Does that mean they'll be back?"

"Looks like," Canderous muttered, "They'll probably attack us until they get it right. I've been trying to figure out who their end target could be. I know it isn't us, there aren't enough of us left to be a real challenge so I've been running through races trying to find one with a similar fighting style and let me tell ya, it ain't easy."

"Echani?" The Exile asked.

"No," he replied, "They're tough but the style is completely different."

She furrowed her brow, few races were as formidable in battle as the Mandalorians and those that were had vastly different approaches to battle, "I can't imagine who it might be, did you get any leads?" she asked.

"One," he replied, "A planet nearby that was settled by raiders a couple of hundred years ago. Similar styles, they were pirates and mercenaries and a real scourge to this end of the galaxy until the Jedi suppressed them. Run by women now, planet called Hapes."

"Hapes?" The Exile queried, "What would the Sith want with Hapes?"

"I don't know," he said, "But we're gonna find out. I sent a diplomatic message to the Queen Mother about an hour ago and hopefully I'll be able to set up a meeting. A bit of advice though, they HATE Jedi so you may want to dress down a bit and let me do the talking if this is gonna work.

"Of course," she replied, lowering her empty cup to the surface of the workstation, "Let me know when she gets back to you. In the meantime though, what can I do to help?"

"Nothing really," he said, "Just make sure the crew is up and ready to fly by evening and we should be alright…you also might want to check on your boy…"

"My boy?" she asked.

"Listen Lady, don't play ignorant with me." he growled, "I know you disappeared with Bao Dur good and early last night. A little connect-disconnect maybe? Spare me the details but I don't want you messing with a good man." he snarled.

Her jaw dropped, "Messing? What the hell?!" she snapped.

"Look the way those other two simpered around you, frankly I hoped you'd use 'em up like last weeks Juma. Maybe that way they'd learn," he said, "But Bao's a damned good tech, he does his job and he shuts the hell up about it. I don't want you getting him all twisted up inside because of your little connections"

"My…little…connections?!" she yelled, her face reddening in anger.

"You know just what I'm talking about Princess," he spat, "You managed to smooth things out with the Doc and Atton but only barely. You form these little connections with everyone you meet and you never think about what it does to them, especially the men."

"You think I do this on purpose?" she cried, "I'll have you know that I absolutely HATE what that does to people but it is something that happens as naturally as breathing. I can't control it!"

Canderous crossed the floor, gripping her arms and looking down into her face, "Can't? That doesn't sound very Jedi to me…that sounds like a Kinrath pup squalling," he said. She tried to squirm from his grasp but his hands were iron bands, "You try focusing on that for once in your little meditation sessions instead of whatever it is that you do and you may find the people around you a lot happier."

He had a point.

She absolutely hated it, but the man had a point. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth and he released her arms, "Canderous, why the hell are you always so hard on me?"

He didn't flinch, "Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya – Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

His words wiped away all residual traces of anger from her features, her eyes widened, "Daughter?" she whispered.

"Look, don't get all sentimental," he said gruffly, reddening slightly, "It's just sorta how things have been working out. You get your butt stuck in a jam, I pull you out. You act like a Cannok's ass and I straighten you out...your connection to everyone is what ripped open that wound on you in the first place...I want you to be strong, to mind them so you don't get hurt like that ever again..."

"Oh," she replied, a bit stunned, "I suppose I hadn't thought of it that way. I was taken from my family when I was barely a toddler…I've never known what it is to have a father…"

"Look, this is a new thing to me too," he said, "I never had a kid, never had time or inclination to…always thought a girl would be nice…I must be getting soft in my old age…" he waved his hand dismissively and moved away from her.

The Exile moved in behind him, sliding her arms in behind his waist and hugged him fiercely. He stiffened initially but relaxed as she whispered in his ear, "I'm absolutely honored Canderous, and as angry as I may get sometimes I do respect everything you do for me. And please don't worry about Bao…it's not like the others…I…I love him..."

He turned slowly, searching her eyes for any hint of deception but received nothing but sincerity in return. A rare smile crossed his lips and he was more handsome than she had ever seen him, "I believe you," he said seriously, "Just be careful with him and with yourself…tell me, have you ever heard of a gai bal manda?"

Her eyes brightened as her face illuminated, "Do you really mean it?" she asked.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't," he said gruffly, "But it's a serious thing, you would become Mandalorian…you would not be adopted or an honorary member…you would be my daughter…as true as blood…"

She looked into his cool grey eyes, he was deadly serious.

"Don't answer me right now," he said, "Just think about it today and if it still sounds good, meet me here at sunset..."

"I will," she said, heading towards the exit "I promise…"

"Oh, and just 'cause I know you're thinking about it, he's at the Telemetry computer." he cracked.

"Thanks Canderous…for everything…" she said, smiling as she headed out into the sun.


	9. Chapter 9

Words evaporated on the lips of the Exile as she entered the bunker that housed the Telemetry computer. Bao Dur was facing away from her, bent over the terminal in fierce concentration. What seemed like thousands of small parts floated in the air around him, some were coming together to form larger items while others disassembled. She leaned against the frame of the entryway, crossing her arms and watching the scene blissfully. He was the sun in a galaxy of technological constellations that floated about him in a symphony of movement. With the slightest gesture they fell into place as he worked and she held her breath, drinking in the scene before her.

The speed of his progress was amazing. With his hands free to macrofuse, the pieces flew into place at a steadily increasing pace until finally a few remaining parts dropped neatly back into the case by his ankle. "Good morning, General," he said softly, turning to face her and leaning against the terminal, "Did you sleep well?"

She smiled warmly and crossed the floor, placing her hands gently on his chest, "I preferred the awake bits," she whispered, "And I did miss you this morning…"

Bao raised his hand, stroking her newly healed cheek softly and shooting a cautious eye to the entrance, "Your beautiful face…" he murmured smiling softly, "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up…I just didn't want either of us to have to answer any questions until we're ready. And I wanted you to have some time…just to be sure…"

The Exile canted her head to the left slightly, giving him a questioning look, "To be sure?" she asked, "I don't think I would have done what we did last night unless I was absolutely sure…"

He slid his hand away gently from her and peered up at the ceiling, "That's not quite what I meant…" he said. Taking a breath he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "…I just wanted to give you the time and space to decide whether or not you wanted to…just leave it at that…"

Her hands slid from him and for the first time she felt a sickening swell of insecurity from deep within her belly. "Is…is that what you want?" she whispered, almost fearing the sound of her own voice.

He was silent and she felt her hands begin to tremble.

"…it's…it's not that," he said as his eyes scanned the entrance once more, "There are a lot of people milling around here…would you come with me so we can talk?"

She nodded and followed behind, keeping pace through the camp and down the pathway. They walked together in silence, over the twisted roots on the pathway and under the diffused sunlight that streamed through the canopy of leaves above them. When they reached the Mandalorian Cache he pulled two durasteel containers together and they sat, facing one another. He gently took her hands in his own, running his rough thumbs over them. "I'm sorry," he murmured, meeting her eyes, "I guess I'm not very good at this sort of thing…what I was trying to say was that I wanted to give you time, to give you an out…if you woke up with any…regrets…"

The Exile pulled her hands from his and placed them gently on his face. She tilted his head towards her until she was gazing deeply into his dark eyes. She could see the uncertainty that lingered there, "Regrets?" she asked softly, tracing the smooth lines of his tattoos with her fingertips, "How could you possibly think that I'd regret you?" 

Something indiscernible flashed in the depths of his dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "…it's been a long time but it's sort of hard wired in me to expect that."

Concern flitted across her features, "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath, "With the exception of last night, I haven't been with anyone since before the wars."

She restrained her emotions, not allowing any surprise to shine through and moved one hand slowly down his cheek. She slid it behind his head and ran her thumb gently along the base of his skull, "…and before that?"

His eyes slid from hers, "A few times," he said, "…a long time ago there was someone I cared about but it turned out she was just curious…I was good enough to mess around with but not to be seen with…"

"Oh Bao, I'm so sorry…" she whispered.

"Don't be," he murmured, "It was a learning experience and it opened my eyes. But when Malachor happened, nothing mattered anymore. I'd killed so many fathers, so many sons…how could I go on to lead a happy, normal life with someone? It was impossible…"

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"You," he whispered, "…and Atton."

This time she couldn't hide her surprise, "Atton?"

"Yeah. A long time ago he came to me on the Hawk while I was working," he replied, "he asked me about you and if I thought he stood a chance. I lied and said I didn't know…I couldn't get rid of him fast enough. He made me so jealous that I wanted to knock him out…that was my first clue that there was something different going on inside."

She smiled at him and stroked his cheek.

"We've come from the same place," he continued, "I know you don't remember the work on the generator but you carry it with you in the same way that I do. You understand me when there aren't any words. All along you've known just what to do to encourage me, to make me feel like what I do matters. When I woke up on Manaan and I knew that Malachor was finally done, it was like all of my defenses fell…everything just started to flood out and I couldn't avoid my feelings for you anymore. They've overtaken me and that's why I want you to be absolutely sure. If you were just curious or unsure or if you've decided that you…just don't want me…I need to know…"

The Exile stood, twisting her hips towards him and lowering herself into his lap. Sliding her arms around his neck she met his eyes, "Not…not want you?" she whispered, feeling her eyes sting, "How could you possibly think that? How…how…"

Thoughts failed her and she began to pepper his face with kisses, letting her lips fall on his cheeks, brow bone and the base of his horns. He slid one hand tightly around her waist and brought the other to her cheek turning her dark eyes to his and searching their depths. "What are you saying?" he asked seriously.

"I'm saying that I would have never done that lightly or out of curiosity," she explained, "When I was exiled I was so lonely at first…I'd never lived without others and I tried to fill the void with other men…strangers really. What I realized is that sex without love just makes you feel emptier inside. So years ago I vowed to never do one without the other ever again and I haven't…"

His head jerked back slightly and she saw his warm brown eyes flare.

"Last night wasn't something that just spontaneously happened," she continued, "You've had my heart for months…I'm…I'm in love with you…"

His shoulders slumped; she could feel waves of both shock and relief crashing from him. "I love you too," he whispered, bringing her lips firmly down to his. He kissed her feverishly, almost desperate in his desire and she responded passionately, standing with him and tearing at his clothes.

He didn't hold back.

In a moment he had tugged the heavy armor from her body, and sat, lifting her easily onto his waiting lap. She gasped sharply at the initial sensation and then relaxed, knotting her legs around his waist and locking her hands firmly behind his neck. Tossing her head back, she luxuriated in the thick heat of his body as he ran his tongue along her throat. Tilting forwards once more, her eyes ranged along his torso; mesmerized by the rhythm of his powerful abdominals and the rise and fall of his large biceps…

"Faster…" she whispered frantically in his ear.

His eyes rolled back slightly and he brought her lips to his once again, thrusting his tongue violently against hers. He rocked her wildly, savoring her cries as she pushed her fingers in between his horns. When at last she screamed it echoed sharply off the walls of the bunker, startling a flock of newly returned birds into the air outside. He followed a moment later, arching his back as far as it could go and bucking slowly as the sound was cut from his throat. They collapsed in each others arms, drenched in sweat mingled with tears of relief and joy.

They were silent, holding each other tightly as she gently kissed his tattooed cheek, and he ran his large hands along the smoothness of her back. 

"I know I've asked this before…"she murmured, "But are you sure there wasn't anything between us back on Malachor?""No," he replied gently, "We weren't close like this back then. We worked together…I thought you were so beautiful…but it was entirely one-sided. It was like you couldn't see me…your heart was elsewhere…"

"I must have thought I was in love then…" she mused.

"Kavar," he whispered, "You spoke of him sometimes when we worked late at night. You never mentioned his name but I had a feeling…"

She nodded in response, "He was my first…and it's not that I regret it, but right now I really wish it had been you…"

Bao smiled softly, pressing his warm lips to her temple, "You never said much but I could feel how much stress you were under…it made you sick half the time. We'd work all night and as soon as the sun would come up you'd run off to the fresher. You were so beautiful…I wished that I could make it go away…"

"You have," she murmured, kissing him tenderly, "You really have…"

They sat, joined together for what felt like an age feeling the coolness of the breeze as it dried their bodies. She finally admitted to watching him in the falls the first time they were on Dxun and he laughed heartily. "I wish I'd known," he whispered, nipping on her earlobe, "I certainly wouldn't have minded your company…" 

She blushed in response, "We should be getting back soon…we've been gone for almost three hours and while I hate to let you go I really don't want to be found like this."

He nodded in agreement, gently leaning forwards so she could stand and retrieve her clothes. They dressed in comfortable silence and as she tugged on her remaining boot she took a deep breath and cautiously asked, "Bao, have you ever heard of a gai bal manda?"

The spell of the afternoon was broken in an instant, his spine stiffened and he looked at her piercingly, "Why do you ask?"

She felt her cheeks redden but she didn't flinch under his stare, "Because Canderous has asked me to undergo one today…at sunset…"

Bao dropped his boot and crossed to where she stood, "What did you tell him?" he asked urgently.

"I haven't told him anything yet Bao, if I want to go through with it I'll just show up," she replied simply.

"You…you aren't seriously considering it are you?" he asked, his eyes flaring.

She felt herself bristle inside, "As a matter of fact I am," she replied coolly, "Canderous has been more of a father to me than anyone I've ever known, including my real one…I think it's an honor."

Bao appeared to be struggling violently with something inside, "How?" he hissed, "How could you consider that an honor? They murdered entire planets! They were little more than animals!"

"Were, Bao!" she argued, "And they certainly paid the price for their ambitions, didn't they? But this isn't about the wars, this isn't about the Mandalorians, this is about Canderous and what he means to me!"

Bao sniffed derisively barely keeping his rage in check, "He's a bossy, unapologetic, heartless cannok's ass!" he growled.

"Is that so?!" she shouted, "Funny, because this morning he called me something similar when he thought I was leading you on!"

Bao was silent, his eyes were thunderclouds.

"Not only did he save my life on Malachor but he always takes me to task for things that no one else would dare mention," she continued, "He tore a strip out of me this morning because he thought I had snuck off last night and taken advantage of you. Of you! He said you were a good man and he didn't want me messing with your head!"

Still, there was silence.

"I care about him deeply," she said, slightly deflated, "He guides me in a way that no one else can…I'm going this evening and I am going through with it…tell me…can you love me as a Mandalorian or are you too damned stubborn to let go of the past?"

His eyes were daggers, he refused to speak.

"Bao?" she whispered, choking on his name. He turned his back to her and she felt her eyes begin to burn. She felt that she had her answer. Turning on her heel, she ran back towards the camp as fast as she could possibly go nearly running over Kelborn as she arrived.

"There you are!" he said sharply, "I've been looking for you for hours, if you want to go through with the ceremony this evening you have to come and get fitted for some armor!"

She gazed straight into the T-bar of his helm, choking back all of her raging emotions "Let's go," she said softly.

In the remaining time before sunset, the Exile was given a choice of ten different suits of armor ranging from worn and battle-scarred to brand new and unmarked. She settled on an older, brownish colored set that had been heavily scored along the chest and back. It reminded her of Canderous in a way and she thought it would be the most appropriate. When fitted, she ran through the different aspects of the ceremony with Kelborn and as the sun began to dip towards the horizon she walked towards headquarters. She tried to force all thoughts of Bao from her mind and focus on what the gai bal manda was truly about.

She entered, passing the gathered members of Clan Ordo and her crew. She felt a stab of pain in her heart when she noticed that Bao wasn't there. "I'll be a laigrek's Mother," Canderous barked genially, "Where in the universe did you get that armor?"

"Kelborn gave me some options and I chose it," she replied simply.

He crossed the room and linked his arm into hers, "It just so happens that I came of age in that armor…good choice, kid."

She smiled at him, swallowing her nervousness and they walked towards the head of the room where Kelborn awaited them. Silence descended over the gathering and the Exile relaxed as Canderous took her hand supportively.

"Gai bal Manda means name and soul," Kelborn began, eyeing the crew, "Canderous of Clan Ordo, why are you here?"

"I am here to take this woman as my Ad and she will be as true as blood." he said solemnly, "I will train her to be a warrior in the tradition of Mandalore and guide her to wisdom and honor."

Kelborn nodded and turned to the Exile, "Child, why are you here?" he asked.

"I am here to take Canderous of Clan Ordo as my Buir, as true as blood" she replied, "I will respect his teachings, train hard in the tradition of Mandalore, follow his wisdom and honor him all the days of my life."

"What is the Resol'nare?" Kelborn asked her.

"It is the six tenets to Mandalorian life," she replied, "To wear the armor, to speak Mando'a, to defend yourself and your family, to raise your children as Mandalorians, to contribute to the clan's welfare and to rally to Mandalore when called to arms." she replied.

"Will you follow these tenets of your own free will and without reservation?" he asked.

"I will," she replied firmly.

"Will you accept a Mandalorian name from your Buir?" he asked.

"I will," she replied.

He turned to Canderous, "Have you a name for your child?" he asked.

"I do," he replied, "I have chosen Maysh'la Koht of Clan Ordo."

Kelborn turned once more to the Exile, "Do you accept your Buir's chosen name of Maysh'la Koht?"

"I do," she replied softly, meeting Canderous' cool grey eyes with a smile.

"Remove your breastplates," Kelborn ordered.

They complied, dropping the heavy plates to the floor and facing each other once more. Kelborn brought forth two matching daggers placing them into their hands. "It is not enough to be Mandalorian in name only," he said, "You must become Mandalorian in soul and this can only be achieved by blood. Canderous of Clan Ordo, draw the blood closest to your heart."

With those words Canderous tore away some of the upper portion of his undershirt, exposing the left side of his torso. With a quick slash, dark blood slowly oozed forth from his chest. He didn't flinch.

"Maysh'la Koht of Clan Ordo," Kelborn continued, "draw the blood closest to your heart."

She felt her palms sweat as she tugged at her collar, ripping her undershirt away from her upper breast. Taking her dagger she slashed quickly at the soft flesh above her left breast taking extra care to reveal no sign of pain as the blood slowly flowed.

Canderous moved forwards, pulling her into a tight embrace and pressing his wound to her own. She closed her eyes blissfully, feeling their blood intermingle, feeling his powerful arms around her and his strong hands on her back. In that moment, he truly became her father. When he finally slowly released her she saw the same recognition reflected in his pale grey eyes. She was his daughter.

"These daggers are a symbol of your bond," Kelborn said, "Keep them close to you always. Now turn and face your brethren."

They turned and faced the room and she brightened as she noticed Bao, watching from the back.

"Clan Ordo, welcome your newest sister," Kelborn said.

With that the room erupted into cheers and hoots and she was surrounded by her new brothers and crew. She accepted welcomes and well-wishes from them all, including a begrudging Xarga who pressed her into a brief hug when almost no one was looking.

Canderous raised a hand and the room silenced, "All right you Kath Hounds," he called. "If you head out into the compound you will find enough Juma and Gal for everyone. Tonight is a celebration!" With that, the crowd, including Mira and Atton cheered and began to swarm towards the exit. She noticed that Mical's enthusiasm seemed a bit half-hearted. Smiling to herself, she imagined that he still wasn't over the previous nights festivities.

When they had all exited she sat with her new Buir as they toweled gently at their wounds. "Do you think you'll stick some Kolto on it?" she asked.

"Nah," he replied, "I kinda like the idea of a scar for this one."

"Me too," she replied and they grinned at one another, "Maysh'la Koht, huh?"

"It means 'beautiful strength' if you were wondering," he replied, "I thought it fit."

"I was," she said, "And thank-you, Buir. It really is a wonderful choice."

"I can't take all the credit," he replied, "About an hour before the ceremony I was still trying to pick something when Bao Dur stopped by."

She straightened like a whip, "He came here?!" she asked sharply.

"Yep," he replied, "He just wanted to know about the ceremony so I told him everything I knew. When I told him I was having trouble with the name, he suggested Jin Rah'la but it's a Zabrak term. When he told me what it meant I just translated it into Mando'a and it worked."

Jin Rah'la…General…beautiful strength…

She stood suddenly gazing towards the exit, "Buir, will you forgive me if I go to find him? I think I may owe him an apology…" she said.

He laughed, "Sure thing Maysh'la, and try to have some fun because we fly to Hapes in the morning."

She stopped and threw her arms around him, "I will, thank-you Buir and I love you."

"I love you too, kid," he said softly watching as she jogged out into the night.


	10. Chapter 10

The Exile entered the concrete bunker silently. Bao Dur straightened immediately, knowing intuitively that she was there. He turned slowly and braced his hands on the edge, leaning back and crossing his feet at the ankles. For once, there was no greeting and his expression was completely indiscernible.

"Bao…" she began, "I…I was wondering if you could help me. I've been trying to fit the crystal from the cave into my lightsaber but it just won't go. It should fit, it's the proper size but every time I try to put it in there it just won't work."

Bao pushed away from the terminal and crossed the room to where she waited. "Can I see it?" he asked softly.

She handed him her weapon and pulled out the crystal from her side pouch feeling it's gentle song echo inside. Heading to a nearby workbench, he disassembled it and attempted to secure the crystal properly but after several tries it was evident that it just wouldn't fit. Neatly reassembling it he handed it to her.

"I'm not sure what the problem is," he said, "You're right, it is the proper size but for some reason it just doesn't want to go in there. You may have noticed this in the cave but these crystals seem to have a will of their own. If they don't want to come with you, you can't blast them out of there. This little guy just fell into your hand so he probably does have a purpose but it won't be as a weapon."

Maysh'la took a deep breath, pulling nervously on her upper arm and they eyed each other cautiously. "I'm sorry that I called you stubborn…" she said quietly.

His deep brown eyes warmed at the sound of her voice, "It's alright," he said, "I really am sometimes…and especially when it comes to the Mandalorians. I went to see Canderous…"

"I know," she said, smiling slowly.

"I was angry on the way over," he continued, "I didn't know what I was going to do but when I got there…well…he talked about you and us and the journey and in the end I just didn't have the heart. He's…a good man…"

"So…you still love me then?" she asked, flushing.

He turned, sliding his big arms around her and pulling her close. "I will always love you," he whispered in her ear, "No matter what happens or how stubborn I get I love you."

She smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "Canderous told me about the name…Jin Rah'la…beautiful strength?" she murmured.

He squeezed her gently, "Well, that's a pretty literal interpretation," he replied, "For Zabraks it's more of a concept…it's about seeing the beauty in displays of power. Watching the waves crash on the ocean is Jin Rah'la…the way you move when you fight is Jin Rah'la…it's also the name of the goddess of war…"

She pulled back slightly, peering into his eyes and arching an eyebrow, "War?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, stroking her cheek, "Don't take offence, Jin Rah'la is believed to be a defender of innocents, not an aggressor. She's also the embodiment of wisdom. Zabraks believe that strength and resilience are the ultimate in desirability. It's one of the few things that both Mandalorians and Zabraks have in common, actually."

She laughed softly, "Thanks for making the suggestion," she said, "I really do love it."

"Anytime," he replied, "It's what I've been calling you all along in my head anyhow. Whatever they choose to call you, to me, you are my Jin…my mighty beauty…"

Leaning down slightly, he kissed her tenderly, running his fingers through her hair, "Come on," he said, "Let's get to modding that new armor of yours. Right now it's so heavy that it will strangle your powers...we may have to lose portions of it but I'm sure I can make the breastplate work."

"Alright," she said, "But then let's go out and join the celebrations, ok?"

"Absolutely, my Jin." he replied and they headed to the workstation.

The night passed in a flurry of activity. After scaling down her armor and deciding against the helm, arm and leg pieces they strode out into the crowds, greeting many of her new clansmen on the way. The Juma flowed freely as laughter rang out from the bonfires. To her shock and absolute delight, Atton stood and recited an old, bawdy, Nar Shaddaa tune about Shega the Hutt Bordello Queen. It was an absolutely revolting little ditty but his voice was strong, pure and far more beautiful than she would have given him credit for. Mical seemed to be avoiding the drink all together, engaged in an intense and serious conversation with Kex about Mandalorian history while Mira arm-wrestled with a particularly rowdy group of young men.

Above it all, Mandalore held court, tilting his helm approvingly towards her and Bao when they finally headed to bed. The night passed quickly, her head on his chest and their limbs entwined in comfortable oblivion.

Soon, morning came and along with it the flurry of preparations for travel to Hapes. With hasty goodbyes to her new brothers, the Exile headed up the entrance ramp of the Hawk. There was something so soothing about watching Bao head towards his familiar place in the garage. She blushed slightly as she recalled the first time he kissed her by the workbench. Waiting for the remainder of the crew to pass by and return to their regular stations, she slid her arms around his neck and pressed her lips softly to his. She watched his eyes flare, feeling the heat in the core of her belly as she gently released him and headed for the cockpit.

"Would you stop leering at me like that?" Mira hissed, "People are gonna think I spaced your Mother!"

Atton was rubbing the back of his neck and looking uncomfortable as he inched away from her, "Uhhh…sorry," he said, "…sorry."

The Exile slipped back into the corridor, watching as Mira grouchily returned to her station and Atton made a speedy escape to the cockpit.

"What was THAT about?" she wondered. Making an effort to control the look on her face she strode through the main hold and headed towards the nav computer.

"Hey there," Atton drawled as she entered, "Sooooo…did you have fun last night?"

She busied herself with plotting in the trip from Dxun to Hapes, "Of course," she replied, "It was some party and I think I'll be feeling the Juma for a few days."

"Interesting that Bao Dur came out," he continued in a probing voice, "He usually stays in playing nursemaid to the machinery…"

"Quite," she replied in a slightly clipped tone.

"Actually, I don't think I've ever seen him out with the rest of us socially," he said, digging deeper in his tone, "He spent a lot of time around you…you left pretty early too…come to think of it I didn't see him after you left…"

He was enjoying watching her squirm. She could feel it and the temptation to turn the tables was just to great for her. Dropping her hands away from the nav computer she turned slowly, folding her arms casually and smiling cattily at him, "That's because I was riding him like a Basilisk War Droid all night long…damn…he made me bark like a Kath Hound…I don't think I've ever sweat so much before…" she allowed a low, rumbling growl to escape from the back of her throat as she rotated her hips slowly, "Have you ever actually SEEN a naked Iridonian? They…"

"Ugh!" he cried, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, "You win! Just please stop…if only for my sanity!"

She dropped her arms out of their fold and laughed heartily with him, "Mess with the Sarlaac, get the teeth!" she said, grinning widely.

When they stopped chuckling, Atton met her eyes once more, "Seriously though," he said, "I think it's great that you're getting him to come out just a little bit more. It's too bad that he didn't stay out for the rest of the evening with us but it's a start. I guess the call of the Hawk was too great. And to be fair, she did take one hell of a beating at Malachor. He does have a lot of work to do but being a Master should make it go by a bit easier."

He either didn't know or this was going to be an extended game between them.

"How did you know he was a Master?" she asked.

"He told us," Atton replied simply, "Yesterday when you were shopping for armor with Kelborn he pulled us all aside and let us know. It's a hell of a comfort to know that I am flying with a Jedi tech master to back me up."

"That's the truth," she replied, "Say, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," he said.

"Well, I wasn't listening in but I was heading in to the hold when Mira mentioned something about you 'leering'? I don't think I've ever seen you so uncomfortable. Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Oh…that…" he said, suddenly flustered, "Look…uhh…it's kind of embarrassing…"

"Oh?" she replied.

"Yeah…see the past couple of nights we've partied pretty heavily and last night after about sixteen Jumas I got an idea…" he said.

"I think I see where this is going," she sighed.

"Umm yeah…well I was thinking that I hadn't had any…you know…'fun' in a while and she's unattached…so what would be the harm because I knew there was no way either of us would take the other seriously so…so I asked…" he trailed off.

The Exile rolled her eyes, "I think I can guess how it ended." she said in an exasperated tone.

"No…really you can't," he said, "It wasn't me…it's just that she…uhhh…well, let's just say that if she decided to have some fun, it wouldn't be with anyone like me. It would be with someone more like you or Visas…"

The Exile smiled slowly, "So why all the leering then?" she asked calmly.

"It's just…it's just…dammit, it's the hottest thing I've ever heard! I can't stop thinking about it!" he said, "Her and…other hers…"

His eyes glassed over and she swallowed a laugh, "Atton, you have to realize that if there were other 'hers' around you would be the last one to be involved, don't you? I mean that is the entire point…"she said.

"I know! I just…hate…my…brain…" he said through clenched teeth.

"This has opened a door to you emotionally," she said seriously, "Be careful that you don't allow this distraction to get to you. Someone with dark intentions could slip in. When you're in flight, come see me and we will meditate. I know it's the last thing that you think will help but I promise you that it will by the time we're done."

"Alright," he said deflatedly, "I already feel like an ass. I hope this helps."

"It will," she said kindly, "Ok, we're all locked in for Hapes."

"Then you'd better get settled," he replied, "I'll be lifting off in less than a minute."

"Gotcha," she said, reaching in to squeeze his shoulder, "Good luck, Atton."

"Heyyy, I'm always lucky," he drawled.

The flight was a relatively brief one. Within a few short hours they were nearing final approach to the Hapian surface. The Exile had decided to not relate any of her new knowledge to Mira, respecting her privacy and liking her all the more for putting Atton in his place. As for her pilot, his thoughts had been a jumbled, anxiety riddled mess when he'd arrived in the dorm to meditate. But with patience, much discussion and development of technique he was more or less balanced by the end of their session. As they rose to rejoin the crew, Mandalore himself called them all into the main hold for a briefing on what they were about to face.

"Alright," he began, "I just wanted to get you all together so we go into this planet in the same mindset. This place was only colonized a few hundred years ago. Mostly by pirates and bandits and they were a real pain in the ass to this portion of the galaxy. So much so that a couple of hundred years back, the Jedi were called in to suppress them. In the battle, most of the Hapian men were killed and now the planet is run by women. I don't think I need to tell you that they don't have a high opinion of outsiders but they really hate Jedi. So no Jedi robes, no lightsabers, no Force powers, not even the little ones like talking back and forth to one another inside your heads. I mean it. They'll sniff you out. I know you're all good fighters but I don't really think you'll stand a chance against an entire planet so keep it low key and remember that we're guests here. Any questions?"

No one said a word.

"All right, get changed and meet me on the entrance ramp when we land." He barked.

With that they broke company and began their preparations. The landing was a smooth one and as they headed down the ramp to the docking area The Exile was struck by the overwhelming beauty of the planet. It had been virtually razed a few hundred years ago but the women had persevered. The foliage was lush and gorgeous; the roadway to the palace was lined in smooth, alabaster bricks that matched the color of the turrets almost exactly.

Leading the way to the Queen Mother was her chief advisor Memh'net. She was a lean, severe looking middle-aged woman who advised them of proper etiquette along the way. According to the current Hapian belief, the Queen Mother or Erenada was both ruler of Hapes and the human form of their god. To be spoken to by the Queen Mother was to hear the voice of god, to be touched by her was to be touched by god. As a result, Memh'net would relay her wishes verbally.

"But…how will you know what her wishes are?" Maysh'la asked slowly.

Mehm'net eyed her as they walked, "Because all advisors train for years to hear the voice of Erenada," she said smoothly, "Some are more proficient than others. In my position as chief I can discern her wishes from thought, a look…it just comes to me."

The Exile made a mental note of this and continued on, protecting her thoughts and smiling blandly.

Mehm'net lead them through the enormous, gilded halls of the Hapian Royal Palace, past metal statues and enormous painted frescos to the throne room. Pausing, she placed her hands on the enormous steel carved handles. "Erenada awaits us," she said softly, pushing open the doors.

A long, dark marble pathway lead to the throne which was heavily gilded with precious metal. The back of which was formed to look like elegantly twisted vines bejeweled with leaf-shaped stones in varying shades of green. The Queen Mother herself was a tall, lean, imposing woman. Her hair was thick and black and hung down over her shoulders, waving slightly at the end. Her face was a pale contrast but finely formed and regal but perhaps her most noticeable feature was her large, dark eyes. They were larger than any that the Exile had ever seen and in that moment, she knew how Mehm'net was able to discern her wishes. Every thought, every emotion reflected easily in those eyes and at the moment they were very kind. She was wearing a black, heavy silk gown that began just below her shoulders. It had shorter, square sleeves and multiple folds in the skirt that were all cinched in tightly to her waist with a brilliant red square of fabric. In her right hand she clutched a long, golden staff composed of the same twisted metal vines and gem leaves coming to a sharp point on top.

They approached and knelt politely and the foot of the throne while Memh'net took her place at her Mistresses side. Something in her look and stance changed and it became apparent to all of those in the room that she was now the voice of the Queen Mother.

"Welcome to Hapes," she said silkily, "Please rise."

They did so, standing in a line at Erenada's feet. "Mandalore, king of the Mandalorian clans, what has brought you to our halls on this day?" Mehm'net asked regally.

"I asked for this meeting because my men on Dxun were attacked by Sith warriors," he said, "We managed to capture one and when we interrogated him he told us that the attack was for 'practice'. Look your highness, I know that there isn't enough of us left to be a threat and I know that we don't have anything of value. So I did some research. It seemed logical to me that if they were practicing on us it was to face an opponent with similar style and tactics. That only leaves Hapian warriors. So I'm here to warn you, here to help and here to ask why they would be targeting your planet?"

Mehm'net was silent for a moment as the Queen Mother pondered Mandalore's words. As she thought she turned her large eyes to each member of the crew, silently appraising them. When her eyes locked on the Exile the strangest feeling washed over her. Erenada's eyes were gentle, but Maysh'la felt a tidal wave of panic sweep through her system. Her palms began to sweat and she had to concentrate to keep from visibly trembling. Still the Queen Mother eyed her placidly as all sorts of wild ideas flooded through her mind. She wanted to run, to throw herself through one of the large, delicate windows to the ground below...

She wanted to scream.

Eventually the strain was too great, she was seized by a bout of nausea and ran to the nearest potted plant, emptying her stomach.

When she rose once more and shamefully made her way back to her companions, the Queen Mother had risen with a terrible expression on her face. She turned her head to Mandalore, her eyes brimming with anger and Mehm'net hovering behind her shoulder.

Her rage was palpable.

"You have lied to me, Mandalore," the advisor growled, "You have soiled this planet and the very heart of my palace with the presence of this Jedi."

"She is my daughter," he said coldly.

"She is both," Mehm'net hissed, "I agreed to this meeting, one of the very few that I have had with outsiders in my reign on good faith and you have deceived me. Tell me now why I should not have her killed on the spot?"

"Because if you even think about it, your worshipfulness, I'll dump you on your royal ass," he snarled.

Before the Exile even had time to wince at his words there was a flurry movement. The Queen Mother moved in front of Mandalore, swept her staff under his feet, knocking him to the floor and dislodging his helm. She spun it once more and pointed the sharpened end straight at his throat.

She was fast…too fast.

"How DARE you threaten me in my own home?!" Mehm'net cried, "Guards! Secure these outsiders in the dungeon!"

As her royal guard closed in on them, the Exile noticed a very peculiar expression in the eyes of Erenada as she peered down at Canderous. Atton dropped into a defensive Echani stance and Mical appeared to be preparing to retaliate with the Force.

"No!" the Exile hissed, "Please, everyone, do not resist…there is something more at work here…go peacefully…"

They eyed her for a moment and relaxed, allowing themselves to be taken into custody peacefully. As the guards turned to retrieve Canderous from the floor, Mehm'net spoke once more.

"Not this one," she commanded, "Bring him to the back chamber for interrogation."


	11. Chapter 11

Maysh'la strained against her cuffs, tripping slightly as the Hapian guard encouraged her forward. Bao Dur was next to her, followed by Atton and Mical with Mira bringing up the rear. The Captain of the Guard was a tall, powerful blonde in heavily gilded armor and an impressive helm. It was ornately decorated with leaves in varying shades of gold and it covered most of her face with the exception of her two, piercing blue eyes. They all carried what appeared to be ceremonial spears but the sharpened tips glowed ominously and the Exile knew that they probably functioned much like shock sticks.

They had traveled in a secured elevator straight down from the Throne Room to a darkened, holding level. It was the antithesis of everything they had witnessed on Hapes so far with varying shades of black and grey stone comprising the flooring and walls. There was no decoration; no Hapian flourishes and the acoustics of the area amplified every cry and every whisper of the prisoners within. By her estimate, they had traveled down eight levels and the only way out seemed to be via a small key that the Captain was holding on her person.

Her thoughts swirled as she headed towards their destination. She didn't know why she'd ordered the others to submit to capture. Certainly nothing in the outward behavior of the Queen Mother had led her to believe that they were safe. It was the opposite as a matter of fact but there was something in her eyes…in spite of all reason she knew that there was more at work. Canderous must have known it too…under any other circumstance he would have happily killed anyone who dared to knock his helm off, royalty or not. She had looked at him so…ODDLY. There really wasn't any other description for it as it was impossible to determine her intentions. It really could be anything and the Exile hoped he would not be too outnumbered to defend himself if it came to that.

She snapped back to reality as they were led into a small chamber that had a faint, sweetly floral scent. Backing out, the Captain switched on a smoothly glowing field that covered the entryway. Almost immediately, Mical moved in to where she stood, sliding his large hands under her jaw and tilting her head slightly upwards.

"What are you doing?" she asked, jerking back slightly.

"Please be still," he replied gently, "I am examining you. I have certainly treated your battle wounds before but I have never witnessed you physically ill. It was quite dramatic considering the setting and I would like to get to the bottom of it."

"I just can't believe that you lost it in the Queen Mother's prize Kibo plant," Atton sighed, eyeing her with bemusement, "I mean you really flooded that thing."

"Oh be quiet!" Mical snapped.

Maysh'la peered at the young, blonde Jedi. She had never heard him speak to someone like that before and she could see an intense concern in the depths of his azure eyes.

"You got something to say?" Atton snarked from behind.

But Mical's attention was entirely devoted to his master. When he finally answered his voice was distracted, "I apologize for my tone, Atton but even you must realize that this is unusual and I would like to get to the root of the cause as quickly as I can."

"Yeah…well…okay…" he conceded his concern palpable.

She could feel him as he examined her systems through the Force, asking her questions as he went. She moved her hands to his and lowered them away from her gently, "Please," she said, "I'm fine…"

"Are you absolutely certain?" he asked, as his pale blue eyes bored into her own, "This is most important, if you have been somehow poisoned or…"

"I was attacked," she said, cutting him off but squeezing his hands gently.

Bao stood as closely behind her as he dared. She could feel his silent, powerful support as it flowed towards her. The others stared at her, bewildered and oddly, Mira yawned.

It seemed that the late nights and early mornings were catching up with all of the crew members. Atton was slouching against the wall and the normally keen spark in Mical seemed all but extinguished. Maysh'la found that her own thoughts were beginning to swirl but she inhaled deeply, enjoying the soft scent in the air and re-doubled her efforts to focus.

"It was the Queen Mother…it felt very much like being attacked by the dark side…having terror thrust upon you but it was fundamentally different somehow. Did any of you feel anything?" she asked.

They all shook their heads – a resounding negative.

"Do you think she's a Sith?" Atton asked.

"No," she replied, "I think that she does wield the Force but she is unaware that she does. She probably thinks it is the power of the Hapian god flowing through her and I have to admit, her powers are certainly different than what I'm used to. But she knew what I was and she tested me to prove it. I'm generally quite immune to fear but there was another element there…an extreme panic…it was interesting..."

"Interesting?" Mira cracked with an eyebrow raised, "Look, she just made you ruin a perfectly good plant and she moved so fast up there that I didn't see her until Mandalore was on his back. She's more than just interesting."

"She is very powerful," the Exile conceded, "But also untrained and considering how Hapians view Jedi she is likely to remain so. I can only imagine how quickly we would be executed if we even suggested that she might be Force sensitive so for now, let's just keep that to ourselves."

"Agreed," Bao said softly and he wavered slightly where he stood.

"I asked you all to give in upstairs and allow capture because I really have no idea what she's capable of, or if she's light or dark. She may possess powers we've never heard of and as a matter of fact I think that she may be what the Sith are after." she said.

"But what would the Sith want with her?" Atton asked, peering at her through lowered lids.

"Isn't it obvious?" Bao said slowly, "She possesses power that is different from anything we're used to…May didn't have any defense against a simple fear attack…if she could be turned; she'd be a powerful ally with an entire planet behind her."

"Hey…is it just my imagination or is that smell in here stronger?" Mira asked sleepily, kneeling down on the floor.

"Mmmmhmmm…s'pretty though," Atton replied, slowly sliding down the wall into a sitting position.

It felt like drowning…Mical's voice seemed to come through in slow waves, cresting on some words and ebbing on the others. She couldn't understand what he was saying but his speech was interrupted by a loud crack as he hit the floor. The room began to swirl and finally, the word that she had been forcing to her lips managed to escape, "Gas…" she whispered and collapsed. The last thing she heard was the sound of Bao's heavy body as it fell.

Everything went black

Hours later

"Jin…"

"Jin…"

The Exile lolled her head drunkenly as a rough, warm hand gently patted her cheek, "Come on…speak to me…" he whispered.

A seed of sensibility from deep within her consciousness pushed forward and forced her eyes to open, struggling to focus on Bao's face. "Are…are you alright?" she croaked.

She felt his warm lips as they brushed gently on her temple, "I'm fine…I'm actually more concerned about you at the moment…can you stand?" he asked.

"Not just yet," she whispered, finally managing to focus on his dark eyes, "But give me a minute…I can't believe I didn't see that coming…that I didn't engage my Breath Control abilities…why can't I THINK here?"

Bao Dur sat, pulling her into his lap and stroking her hair as she leaned in limply against his neck, "Maybe you can't," he said softly, "I think that that we're being suppressed somehow…I mean not one of us thought of it. We haven't had much sense at all since we arrived. If it was just you or just me that would be one thing, but all of us? I really think that the Queen Mother is doing something here and we are going to have to start fighting it if we're going to get out."

"You're right," she replied and as her eyes focused she peered around the room, "Wait…where are the others? What's happened to them?"

"I don't know," he replied, "When I came to, they were gone. I called one of the guards and she told me not to worry. She said that the Captain is speaking to Mira and that Atton and Mical have been taken for some kind of screening. When I asked what she meant by that she told me that it was routine for all human male prisoners that come through here and they would be returned within the hour. That was about 30 minutes ago and I have a bad feeling about all of this."

Maysh'la frowned.

"Me too," she whispered, her voice turning to steel, "And I've had just about enough of this! Help me up, will you love?"

Bao smiled at her and gathered her up close in his big arms. Raising one knee and sliding his other leg behind he braced his foot against the wall and slowly stood. It was a subtly impressive display of strength and balance and the Exile smiled as he slowly lowered her into a standing position. She stood for a moment, her arms locked behind his neck, bathing in the new heat that radiated from his eyes. Slowly, he leaned in…

The air was pierced by an agonized scream.

Atton!

Maysh'la flew apart from Bao Dur, shouting for a guard and attempting to disrupt the field through the Force. "Bao, your arm! Can't you take care of this?" she asked frantically.

"I tried while you were out," he replied, "It's at a frequency that's out of range of my capabilities. If I had some tools a simple alteration would do the trick…"

Atton screamed again.

"Dammit!" Bao hissed, focusing his own efforts on the shield.

"Guard!" she cried, returning her focus with Bao.

Feeling someone approach she raised her eyes and dropped her arms limply to her side. The Captain of the Guard was approaching but she was out of her armor…as a matter of fact, she was wearing very little at all and it seemed that she was being closely followed…by a shorter, armored version of herself.

Bao had noticed as well and they stood aside as the glassy-eyed Captain approached and opened the cell. She strode vacantly in and the Exile smiled as she noticed Mira's green eyes peering out from the heavy helm. "Come ON," she hissed, beckoning them sharply with her free hand and they complied, shuffling quickly out into the hall.

Mira leaned in and kissed the blonde Captain gently, "Thanks for everything, beautiful," she whispered and took a short step backwards, lowering the field in front of the Force stunned girl.

"Perfect timing," Maysh'la said, beaming at her, "Let's go!"

They ran down the hallway in the direction of the noise, as they rounded the corner they nearly collided with two more guards who quickly found themselves on the end of a stasis field. Moving past, they pushed their way into the small room and were struck by an absolutely sickening sight.

Immediately Bao Dur turned his back to the room.

Atton and Mical were strapped to a sort of gurney that hung on an angle from the ceiling with their heads slightly forward. They had been stripped from the waist down and the lower half of their bodies hung over an array of needles varying in gauge and function.

Both men were bleeding slightly...

The Exile immediately looked upwards to Atton, locking on his own dark green eyes, her face a mask of forced calm. Mical was still unconscious but it was obvious that the guards had engaged the use of their machinery on both of them regardless of their state. Atton's head lolled, he was semi-conscious from the pain, pale and sweating and it was obvious that he had vomited at least once. His humiliation permeated the air in the room and her heart broke as she fought the pity that was threatening to shine through in her expression.

Taking the utmost care to not break contact with his eyes she moved forward with Mira who headed to the controls of the machine. Engaging them, the gurney moved slowly away and began to straighten as it lowered to the floor. As it moved the Exile threw as many Force heals on them as she could. When it finally touched the ground, she reached for the restraints, freeing only his wrists and allowing him to take care of his ankles on his own. Keeping her head high she moved to the lockers in the corner of the room and retrieved the clothing that had been taken from them, returning silently and handing Atton his gear.

She turned to Mical as he dressed, loosening his wrist and ankle restraints and covering him with his own gear.

"Dress him," Atton muttered.

"What?" she said.

"Dress him," he croaked, "No way does he need to know about this when he wakes up."

The Exile nodded and with Mira's help they cleaned the telltale pinpricks of blood from his newly healed flesh and wrestled Mical back into his gear.

There was a disturbance in the hall and she saw Bao's mechanical fist as it raised high in the air and landed just beyond the doorframe with a sickening crunch. By this point Mira was mad for a fight and raced to join him in the hall.

"Atton…" she began.

"Don't say it," he whispered, "Just…don't…"

She moved to where he sat and stood in front of him, "What did they do to you?"

His green eyes clouded with rage, "Did you notice that there aren't a lot of men on this planet?" he asked quietly.

She nodded in reply.

"Yeah, well, it turns out they aren't big fans of men…the few that are here are no better than slaves. No opinions, no status…"

She nodded again.

"Still, they need their race to carry on so they…they were forcibly taking…" he stopped, his hands in fists and his knuckles white.

Her eyes widened, "I understand," she said quietly, "You don't have to continue…I know what they were after…"

His head snapped upwards as he turned to the machinery and with a vicious snap of his right hand he brought down the most powerful Force Storm she had ever witnessed. The needles were vaporized in an instant and the remainder of the mechanism imploded on itself, scattering sparks and collapsing in a heap of twisted, molten durasteel.

Atton's eyes dropped once more to his hands which were now clenched tightly in his lap.

The Exile reached out and tentatively ran her fingers through a few stray strands on his head.

He jumped back as if burnt.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling her hand sharply back as guilt permeated her consciousness.

"No…" he replied, "Touch me."

"What?" she asked, her confusion apparent.

"Touch me," he repeated firmly, "Please, I need you to…it's kinda like falling off a Dewback and getting back on. If I delay it…I don't know if I'll be able to stand it later…"

Maysh'la nodded slowly and moved in nervously, raising her hand to his cheek and stroking it gently. She could feel his emotions as they warred with one another – his common sense as it wrangled with his fear.

He opened his arms and pulled her into a hug, resting his head just over her heart. She held him tightly and stroked his hair, "I will kill her for this," he whispered.

There was no shock, no surprise, no admonitions or mention of the path to the dark side…she just held him protectively, squeezing him in fierce agreement and listening as Bao and Mira battled outside.

Mical began to stir and slowly she moved away from Atton, as he smiled sadly at her.

"Where am I?" Mical asked groggily.

She leaned over him until his eyes focused, "They were taking you for some sort of medical exam but Atton and I got here just in time. Can you stand?" she asked.

"I…believe so…" he replied, slowly raising himself into a sitting position and swinging his legs towards the floor. Taking a few slow breaths, he stood. Shakily at first but soon steadied.

"Excellent," Atton said smoothly, his face masked in its usual calm, "Let's get Mandalore and get the hell out of here."


	12. Chapter 12

"What the HELL is going on here?!"

Maysh'la snapped her head towards the doorway at the sound of her Buir's voice. He was alive! And from the sound of it, he was infuriated.

She turned back to Atton, "Will you stay here until Mical is a bit more steady on his feet? I'll sort this out."

"Sure," he replied casually and she gave his hand a small squeeze.

Turning to the entryway, she jogged into the hall and halted in her tracks, staring at the scene before her. Between her and Canderous lay two unconscious guards who were hovered over by Bao and Mira. The walls were nearly demolished in places with large cracks and holes in the smooth stone. Bao was looking more fierce than she had ever seen him – to a stranger, he would have been terrifying.

On the other side of the narrow corridor, Canderous stood tall and helmless. His fists were curled tightly and his expression was one of total outrage as he glowered blame at Memh'net. She was pushing past his side and staring, at the scene, utterly baffled. The Exile moved quickly to stand between her and the crew before anyone could retaliate. As she moved, she casually brushed her hand along Bao's tensed forearm in the hopes that her touch would rouse him from his rage. He flinched and brushed his fingertips past her own as she moved. The sensation was electrifying.

"Please Buir, Memh'net…it's not what either of you are thinking," she said quickly.

"Well what IS it?" Memh'net snapped.

As she spoke the large, pointed, golden end of a staff raised high between her and Canderous and slowly lowered between their shoulders. At the touch of the metal, the Queen Mother's aide moved quickly to one side, allowing her Majesty to pass through to the violent scene within.

Silence fell over them as their bodies tensed.

Erenada stood still, clad in a long, black, form-fitting gown that hugged the curves of her body. It draped at the thighs and hung down in a gentle wave to the floor. It was overlaid with a delicate ebony lace that was punctuated with tiny, glistening jet beads and crept upwards from the bodice, ending in delicate whorls along her jawbone. Her hands were also covered in gloves of the same fragile material and aside from her face the only other skin that showed was the alabaster of her bare feet - a shocking white against the pitch hem of her gown and the black stone of the floor. Her hair hung straight down her back in a silken sheet and her enormous dark eyes swept critically around the room.

She took in the unconscious guards, staring at their prone bodies in intense concentration for what seemed like several minutes until they began to stir. Finally, she turned and moved on to Maysh'la, Bao and Mira, who was still outfitted in the Captain's armor. As her eyes moved to the door to the Medical Lab she paused.

Atton was there.

He stood, leaning on the doorway with his arms folded, glaring murderously at Erenada. She, in turn, met his eyes impassively and gripped her staff tightly. Pausing for just a moment she pushed it gently away from her body. Memh'net stepped up immediately in order to retrieve it from her mistress. Still not breaking her gaze with Atton she removed the delicate lace gloves and handed them off as well.

By this point, both of the guards were fully conscious and eyeing the Queen Mother with a nasty confidence that made May's stomach turn. Breaking eye contact with Atton for the first time, the Queen Mother spun and raised her arm high. With a flash of her hand the air crackled to life as enormous, bright orange bolts tore downward and into the now terrified faces of the guardswomen. The sound was deafening, utterly cancelling the noise of the Exile's shout as she ran to stop her. But it was too late, in a moment, they were dead.

Lowering her arm, Erenada slowly crossed the floor towards the Med Lab. Atton pushed himself away from the doorframe, bracing himself and eyeing her warily. When she reached him, she dropped slowly to her knees, her head bowed.

"I'm so sorry."

Whatever Atton had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. Her voice was a low whisper, softly accented and flowed like honey. He shifted uncomfortably as he stared down at the top of her dark head.

"Will someone PLEASE tell me what the hell is going on here?" Canderous snapped.

She turned her dark eyes slowly towards the Mandalorian "Canderous Ordo," she began, "I have witnessed the events that occurred here personally through the memories of these former guards. They have inflicted a great evil on two of your traveling companions and I only hope that this just punishment will quell your anger."

His fists slowly uncoiled, his keen eyes watching her intently.

"My guests," she continued, "It is impossible for me to apologize sufficiently for what has occurred here…I am…very distressed… When I ordered you confined it was as a test…our experiences with outsiders have been unpleasant at best. I confined you and fogged you ability to concentrate in order to gauge the level of your powers. I fully expected you to attempt escape and to attack my guards which would have resulted in the end of our talks and your expulsion from Hapes. To see that you have been true to the promise of Mandalore in spite of your Jedi abilities and have been abused by the very staff I have put my faith in grieves me deeply. Believe me when I tell you that I had no idea that such machinery existed."

The Queen Mother's face darkened, the regal tilt of her head sliding into a position of misery.

"I am ultimately responsible for everything that occurs on this planet and I take full responsibility for this incident." she said in a low voice turning her gaze back to Atton, "I apologize to you and I will apologize personally to your doctor as well. If you wish to take your revenge for this it will be allowed. There will be no consequences for either your self or your crew. I will defend myself but you will be permitted to set the rules of combat. At this point I do not expect any sort of regard from you…you are free to leave if you wish but I know of the Sith threat that you have mentioned. If you desire to do so, you are all welcome to join me in my private chambers for a meal, some tea and conversation. If not, I understand…"

The silence jerked the Exile back from the near spellbound state she had been in. There was something about the expressiveness of the Queen Mother's face and especially her eyes that drew others in. But the sound of her voice took it to another level. It was filled with a charisma that seemed to glow with the Force and she could understand why the Hapians believed her to be a channel to their god. It was a dangerous thing for so much power to be available to someone so young and untrained.

"What did they do to you last night?" Atton asked suddenly, looking sharply at Canderous.

"Outside of telling me what was going on, eating and talking, nothing," he replied.

Atton's eyes cooled considerably as he gazed down at the young woman who knelt at his feet. "Look," he said uncomfortably, "I…uh…don't want to fight or anything. You didn't know, that's pretty obvious, so let's just stop the games and be honest here. No more mind tricks, no more theatre…I'm done. I'll call it even if you cut the crap and help us deal with these Sith."

She smiled warmly at him and extended a pale hand which he took, allowing her to rise to her feet, "Agreed," she said warmly, "Thank-you Atton. Would you excuse me for a moment while I attend to your doctor?"

"Your Majesty?" the Exile cut in.

"Yes," came the gentle reply.

"Mical…he was unconscious for the entire time…he's only just come around and we haven't told him…" she said haltingly.

Erenada nodded, "If you wish, I will not reveal anything to him."

"It is," she said.

"Very well," turning to Bao and Mira she asked, "Would you be so kind as to stow these treacherous baggages in an empty cell around the corner? It will be easier to keep all of this to ourselves if your doctor is not confronted by two bodies. You do NOT have to be gentle."

"With pleasure…" Mira snarled, grabbing the smaller one by a wrist and dragging her, sloppily, her head bouncing along the floor to the holding area.

Bao didn't speak; his jaw was firm, his mouth a sharp, grim line. He grabbed the larger one by the belt, carrying her like rubbish to join her partner.

"I…wish you hadn't killed them," Atton said quietly to the Queen Mother.

"But…they were guilty," she replied, confused, "I saw it, the darkness, the evil in their own hearts before I judged them."

"I know," he replied, "I'm as surprised as you are that I'm feeling this way. It's just…look, no matter how evil someone is, no matter what they do, as long as they're alive there's a chance for redemption. Sometimes all someone needs is just a clear shot at it. It's tough to do if you're dead."

She linked her arm into his, "Please accompany me to the back chambers and tell me your thoughts," she said, "I personally couldn't see any hope for either of them but I would like to hear your ideas if you are willing to share them."

"Sure thing," he replied as a phantom of his old, roguish grin crossed his face.

At that moment Mical entered the hall, slightly wobbly but intent in his effort. Mira immediately moved to brace him up and angle him down the hall towards the elevator.

As the others trooped ahead, Maysh'la fell back slightly with Bao Dur. When they were lagging comfortably, he slid his warm hand into hers, brushing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Are you alright?" she whispered.

"Yes," he replied softly, "But I don't like this."


End file.
