[FIC] Hidden Shades of Grey

[JasraLantill]

The door to the starboard dormitory was open when Berland approached it with Ithra in tow. Sitting in the middle of the floor, cross-legged and eyes closed, Juhani appeared to be meditating.

 

Berland quietly cleared his throat.

 

Juhani’s eyes slowly opened, then narrowed. With an expression like an early frost, she asked, “Yes? What is it you want now, Sith?”

 

“Forgive us for disturbing you,” Berland said in his best diplomatic voice. “But Keeper Ithra has something to say to you.” He gently nudged Ithra forward.

 

Ithra inhaled deeply before she began. “I came to apologise,” she said. “Berland has explained to me how my comments may have unintentionally affronted you. I find my sudden exposure to so many different beings to be... unsettling. Still, that is no excuse for my thoughtless words or tactless actions. Please, forgive me for what I said and how I have treated you.”

 

In the long silence that followed, one could almost hear the debate going on in Juhani’s head. Finally, the words came. “Apology accepted.”

 

Ithra released the breath she had not realised she’d been holding. “Thank you,” she said, sounding gratefully relieved.

 

“Now, is there anything else?” Juhani asked.

 

Ithra glanced at Berland, who gave her a negligible nod to continue. “Berland has told me that your people and mine share something in common,” said Ithra. “He says that the Cathars, like the Jantessans, sometimes find it difficult to relate with other species.”

 

“Yes.” Juhani’s expression softened, but suspicion still lingered in her eyes. “This is true.”

 

“If you could see to share some of your own experiences, I believe it might help me to empathise with outla…others, so that I may better serve my people, and the Republic, should I become a Senator.”

 

“You wish me to teach you?” Juhani eyed Berland with mistrust.

 

“You are a Jedi,” Ithra said. “Who better than a Jedi to instruct one on the fair treatment of others?”

 

“Indeed,” Juhani warily agreed. She again paused for consideration before answering. “If you are sincere in your request to learn more about fairness and empathy, then I will instruct you. A Jedi *would* be better suited for the task than a…”

 

Berland coughed, loudly and with intent to interrupt. “Yes, well, I believe that is my cue to leave.” He smiled at Juhani, although his smile wasn’t entirely friendly.

 

Ithra blanched. “You’re leaving me? Here? Alone?”

 

“Ithra, you are perfectly capable of keeping yourself occupied for a while,” Berland said to her. “Besides, the High Presidium requires a detailed report upon our return—a report that I have yet to even begin. And I shouldn’t need to remind you of how Prefect Keel feels about ‘proper documentation.’” Berland bowed his head and abruptly left, leaving Ithra with Juhani.

 

“Come. Sit down,” Juhani said, beckoning with her hand. Ithra hesitated, but eventually sat across from the Jedi, mirroring her cross-legged position, although it was hard to tell as the cloak covered her entirely apart from her head. “Now, where should I begin?” Juhani mused.

 

“I suppose at the beginning,” Ithra answered quite earnestly.

 

Juhani chuckled softly. “Ithra, how old are you?”

 

“In Republic standard years? Almost sixteen.”

 

“Almost?” Juhani’s head bobbed knowingly. “I see. And have you always wanted to be a Keeper?”

 

Ithra frowned. “I don’t understand your question. I am Force Sensitive,” she said plainly. “It is my duty to be a Keeper, so that is what I am.”

 

Juhani sighed softly. “I was young, much younger than you, when I first saw the Jedi. I was just about to be sold as a slave, when they came through on their way to fight in the Mandalorian Wars. They freed me, and I was grateful, but what’s more is that I was so impressed by their kindness and generosity, their strength and sense of justice, that I wanted to be just like them. Eventually, I found my way to the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. I learned the ways of the Jedi—the Jedi Code, how to wield a lightsaber, and how to use the Force. But, even after all of my training, I was not a Jedi.” Juhani lowered her eyes. “I fell to the Dark Side.”

 

“But… you are a Jedi now?” Ithra said with uncertainty.

 

“Oh, yes, of course,” Juhani said. “But only after Rade showed me that being a true Jedi means that you must make sacrifices, take responsibility for your actions, and always be mindful of how your choices affect others. Even now, my hot Cathar blood makes following the path of the Jedi difficult, but I do not give up. Every day, I strive to be the best Jedi I can be. Just as you should strive to be the best Keeper, or the best Senator, you can be.

 

“Before, when you were following me to the ship, you said something to Berland. Something about duty and balance?”

 

“Duty is the hinge of Balance. Balance is the Keepers’ mandate.”

 

“Yes, that’s it,” Juhani nodded. “Is that the Keeper’s Code?”

 

“I suppose you could call it a Code,” Ithra said slowly. “It is one of the rules of Aylah’han, the First.”

 

“The first Keeper?”

 

“No…. Just the First.” Ithra frowned. “It is difficult to explain.”

 

“Well, balance is the hinge of empathy, too. You have to imagine yourself in another’s place—consider how they might feel or react to a situation. Then weigh your choices for action against those considerations. That is being empathic.”

 

Ithra frowned with confusion. “But that is why Keepers are taught to seek,” she said. “So we do not have to imagine the intentions of others.”

 

“And what about feelings?” Juhani asked her. “What if you find, after seeking, that a person has a different, yet valid, point of view?”

 

“Again, your question is confusing,” Ithra said uncertainly. “Only outlanders and exiles would have….” She suddenly paused. “Perhaps, I will gain more understanding if I take some time to think about what you have said.”

 

“Perhaps. But please feel free to ask me for assistance anytime. A Jedi is always ready to help when needed.”

 

“I do have one thing to ask," said Ithra. "Though it is rather… trivial,” she added.

 

“Yes?”

 

“These… food dispensers on board….” Ithra lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Are there any other alternatives?”

 

Juhani smiled. “You do not like the food?”

 

“No, I do not. Jantessa has many different types of cuisine, but what comes from those devices does not look or taste like anything I would consider... food.”

 

Juhani laughed. “Talk to Jolee Bindo,” she suggested. “You’ll find him in the medical bay.”

 

“I’m sorry…I did not mean to suggest I was ill,” Ithra apologised.

 

“I know what you meant. Jolee doesn’t like the dispensers either. I bet he’s stored away some ‘emergency supplies’ for this journey. If you ask him, perhaps he will share some with you.”

 

“Thank you.” Ithra gracefully rose to leave. “I will go and… 'talk' to him now.”

[JasraLantill]

Jolee was kneeling in front of a storage cabinet in the med bay busy inventorying his supplies, when he heard someone behind him knock lightly on the hatch frame.

 

His eyes rolled as he turned to confront the interloper. “Look, can’t you see I’m….” He paused as he instantly recognised the unique shade of purple fabric that pooled elegantly on the floor in front of him. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet a pair of light violet ones set in an expressionless yet flawless face. “Keeper Ithra. It’s you,” he said by way of apology as he rose to stand. “Is there something you need?”

 

Ithra stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Food,” she finally said.

 

“Food?” Jolee eyed her over, then chuckled. “Well, if you’re hungry, I can show you how to use the dispensers…”

 

“Berland has effectively demonstrated their operation to me,” she said frankly. “But whatever that ’product’ is that they dispense….” She shivered with revulsion. “It is not food. The Jedi Juhani suggested that you might be able to assist me.”

 

Jolee laughed this time. “Ah! So you’re a kindred spirit, are you?”

 

“No, just looking for something that isn’t….” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Something that is slightly more… palatable.”

 

“Ach, go on. You can say it,” Jolee urged. “No one will argue with you, least of all me. The stuff that comes out of those processors is a disgusting, stomach churning, over-processed, flavourless muck, with the texture and colour of banth…”

 

Ithra swallowed back bile. “Yes,” she hurriedly interrupted. “All those things.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” said Jolee. He scratched his temple. “I have a tendency to get a little carried away sometimes.” Jolee waved a dismissive hand in the air. “So, what were we talking about? Oh, food! Well, let me see what I can do.”

 

The old Jedi began rummaging through one of the storage units and finally pulled out a small container. “Here’s something you might like,” he said. He opened the container to reveal a quantity of small, oval shaped pellets in a variety of bright colours. “Zorgang nuts. Extremely nutritious, incredibly tasty, very colourful, and most importantly,” he lowered his voice, “of a size that’s easy to hide. Go on. Take it. I’ve got plenty.”

 

Ithra’s eyes brightened, and a demure grin slowly appeared. “Thank you,” she said, politely taking the container then concealing it under her cloak. “I will try them.”

 

“Is there anything else you need?”

 

“No. Yes,” she said, changing her mind. “I am curious about something. The T’wilek female that travels with you….”

 

“Mission. Her name is Mission.”

 

“Mission,” Ithra repeated. “What is her position on this ship?”

 

“Her position?”

 

“Her… purpose,” Ithra clarified. “It is obvious that you are the Medical Officer. What position does she serve?”

 

Jolee rubbed his chin. “Well, she’s…she’s pretty good at slicing.”

 

Ithra frowned. “Slicing?”

 

“You know…slicing through security locks and computer access codes…”

 

“She’s a criminal?” Ithra said, appalled.

 

“Well, no…I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as that,” said Jolee. “Let’s just say Mission likes to live her life on the fringe. Sort of thinks outside the box.”

 

Ithra raised an eyebrow.

 

“But she would never harm anyone,” Jolee continued. “Well, not out of malice anyway,” he added in retrospect.

 

“I see,” Ithra said curtly. “And what does her Wookiee do?”

 

“’Her’ Wookiee?” Jolee chortled. “Well, first of all, Zalbaar doesn’t ‘belong’ to Mission. He’s just her friend. And, take my advice: don’t ever mention that you thought Zalbaar ‘belonged’ to anyone in front of him. Unless, of course, you want to know what it feels like to have your arm pulled out of its socket.”

 

Ithra’s eyes grew wide.

 

“Wookiees have been known to do that, you know,” Jolee continued. “Wookiee’s are very strong, fierce fighters and expert hunters. But,” he added sadly, “some folk think they’re only good as slaves, and, understandably, the Wookiees are pretty sensitive about the subject. And some think that the Wookiees aren’t that intelligent since they can’t speak Basic. But don’t let that fool you. They’re just as smart as anyone else—smarter in some cases. Proud and honourable creatures, the Wookies. In fact, honour is why Zalbaar’s here. He has a life debt to Rade, a sort of pledge that the Wookiee’s take very, very seriously. Zalbaar will stay with Rade until the end.”

 

“You seem to know a lot about Wookiees.”

 

“I should,” Jolee said proudly. “I spent years in the Shadowlands on Kashyyyk. I’ve met plenty of Wookiees. Even made some very good friends.”

 

“But you still have not answered my question,” Ithra persisted. “What does the Wookiee…what does Zalbaar do on this ship?”

 

“Oh, sorry,” said Jolee. “Must have gotten off track again. Well, let’s see….” Jolee pulled at his beard. “He’s a good warrior, can handle most any weapon—blasters, bowcasters, swords—never mind his inherent natural strength. And he’s pretty good with demolitions, too—grenades and mines and the like. I guess if you’re calling me the Medical Officer, you could say he’s the Weapons Officer on board. Does that answer your question?”

 

Ithra nodded. “Yes. Thank you. You have been very… helpful.” She turned to leave. “And thank you for the nuts,” she added.

 

“Don’t mention it. And I mean that, mind you,” he said, wagging a finger at her. "*Don’t* mention it. Folk around here might start to think I’m getting soft.” He winked, and then resumed his inventorying.

[JasraLantill]

Ithra had taken a wrong turn in the corridor when leaving the med bay and ended up in the maintenance bay, now doubling as the cargo bay since its conversion into a temporary dormitory. Mission, the Mandalorian, and Zalbaar were grouped around a large cargo cube, using it as a table and footlockers as stools. With Zalbaar in the middle, Mission and the Mandalorian sat facing each other, with a small deck of Pazaak cards and a pile of Zorgang nuts arranged between them on the makeshift table.

 

“Twenty!” the Mandalorian said, victoriously tossing down his card. “I win.”

 

“Hey, wait a minute… that’s a tournament card, Canderous!” Mission complained. “You can’t use that. That’s cheating!” Arms outstretched, she began to scoop the heap of brightly coloured Zorgang nuts towards her. “The pot’s mine by default.”

 

“Hey! You didn’t say that I couldn’t…”

 

Zalbaar roared.

 

Canderous scowled at the Wookiee. “Couldn’t you have chosen someone else to be the adjudicator?”

 

“He’s a perfect choice. No one’s stupid enough to argue with a Wookiee.” Mission picked up a bright yellow nut and popped it into her mouth. “Not even you.”

 

Zalbaar uttered a series of staccato grunts in quick succession, laughing as only a Wookiee could.

 

Ithra was about to turn and go in the other direction when Mission spotted her. “Oh, hey there!” She beckoned Ithra forward with her hand. “Come join us. I’m Mission. And this is Big Z,….”

 

Zalbaar growled softly in greeting.

 

“…and that’s Canderous. We were just passing the time. In case you haven’t noticed, hyperspace travel is boring. So, wanna play a hand or two?” Mission deftly shuffled some Pazaak cards in her hands.

 

Ithra looked at Zalbaar, then Mission, then back to Zalbaar, then Canderous, then back to Zalbaar.

 

“C’mon,” Mission pleaded, invitingly patting the extra space on her footlocker. “You can sit by me. I won’t bite.”

 

Zalbaar stretched his arms upwards and rested them behind his head in a relaxed manner. He grunted a few times.

 

“And Big Z said he promises not to bite either,” Mission translated.

 

Ithra took a few cautious steps forward.

 

“I might though,” Canderous said suggestively.

 

Ithra bristled. “Jolee didn’t warn me about Wookies, or Mandalorians for that matter, being inclined to bite,” she said tartly. “But he did advise me on the propensity Wookiees have for limb dislocation.”

 

Canderous chortled. “I’m sure I could manage to provide a similar service, if you ask nicely.”

 

Ithra flashed him a look that could have reduced the Mandalorian to a pile of smoking ashes.

 

“Just ignore him,” Mission said, giving the Mandalorian an equally dirty look. “And don’t worry about Big Z. I’ll give you plenty of warning if it looks like he’s getting angry. C’mon. Sit down.”

 

Ithra edged a little closer. “What are you playing?” she asked, squinting to see the cards Mission held.

 

“You mean….” Mission’s eyes widened. “You mean, you’ve never played Pazaak?”

 

Ithra tentatively shook her head.

 

“Never?” A glint shimmered in Canderous’ eyes. “Well, pull up a footlocker, sweetheart, and we’ll deal you in. Erm…minimum wager’s forty credits.”

 

There was a thump from behind the cargo cube.

 

“Ow!” As Canderous rubbed his shin, he glowered at Zalbaar, then at Mission. She gave him a quick, wry grin, and then smiled gratefully at the Wookiee.

 

“Like I said, just ignore him,” said Mission. “We’re playing for Zorgang nuts.” From the other side of the footlocker, she picked up a container from the floor. “Bought them in this shop Jolee showed me on Coruscant. But we can play for something else.” Mission rummaged through the small box. “I’ve got Fizz Busters, some Drontan Gums, Mini-Kips….”

 

“So,” Ithra interrupted Mission’s recitation, “this Pazaak…it is a wagering game?” Ithra inched forward with curiosity.

 

“Well…yeah,” Mission said. “It’s kinda boring if you’re not betting something. Besides, when you use something like Zorgang nuts, you can eat your winnings.” And with that she popped a few more of the colourful treats in her mouth.

 

Zalbaar roared in agreement.

 

“If you want to, you can watch a hand or two first. Big Z’s just the adjudicator, so it’s just me and Canderous playing really.”

 

“Of course, it’ll just be me winning,” Canderous boasted. “Okay, kid. Enough talk. Deal.”

 

Ithra carefully observed how the game was played. The first time, Canderous won as he predicted. The second set was won by Mission. And now it was the last hand of the third set.

 

“Nineteen,” said Canderous. “I stand.”

 

Mission smiled. Unlike Canderous, she still held all four of her sidedeck cards in her hand and her cards showing on the table only totalled ten. She drew her next card. “Six.” She threw down one of the cards she held. “And four makes twenty! Yes!” She swept the nuts that made up the kitty toward her and added them to her pile. “Victory is sah-weet!” she said, popping a bright blue Zorgang nut into her mouth.

 

“Are you sure you’re not cheating?” Canderous asked, giving her a menacing but playful squint.

 

“Hey! It’s not my fault that you’re not any good at Pazaak,” Mission countered. “So, Ithra, do you want to play? I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

 

Ithra gently bit her lip as she considered the offer. “No, thank you,” she said politely. “Perhaps some other time.”

 

“Oh. Well, okay.” Mission looked a bit hurt. “We could play a different game, you know,” she added. “Think there’s a dejarik board around here someplace.”

 

“I really have to get back,” said Ithra, backing away. “But thank you for the offer.”

 

“Right. Sure. Anytime. Just let me know.”

 

Ithra left the way she came in, but she lingered in the corridor for a moment.

 

“Did I do something wrong?” she heard Mission ask. “’Cause, I don’t think she liked me.”

 

“The Jantessans don’t ‘like’ anyone,” Canderous replied. “Not even gregarious, hyper-active, Pazaak-cheating kids.”

 

“Cheating? Cheating! I’ll show you who’s cheating!” Mission challenged. “This time you deal, and it’s double or nothing!”

 

Canderous chuckled. “You’re on. I never back down from a challenge.”

[Renegade Puma]

Great job on the new chapters Jasra. Your story is coming alon very nicely. Can't wait for the next part. Oh and here is 200 coolpoints to add to your account And if you haven't been given any yet, then you now have 200 Yay!

[JasraLantill]

Berland was working on his report for Prefect Keel when Ithra returned to the dormitory. From the corner of his eye he watched her sit down heavily on the edge of her bed and let out a sigh, though whether it was one of relief or exhaustion he couldn’t tell.

 

“So, I see you survived your encounter with the Cathar,” he said without even looking up from his datapad. “Tell me…what did you talk about?”

 

“Well,” said Ithra, as she took the container of nuts from under her cloak and set it on her lap. “Basically she urged me to be the best Senator I could be by weighing my choices against the considerations of those with different points of view.”

 

“Typical Jedi drivel,” Berland huffed as he continued to enter data. “It’s obvious she knows nothing of politics.”

 

“I told her I needed more time to think about what she said.”

 

Berland nodded approvingly while he continued to work. “A wise move.”

 

“She also mentioned that she was once a slave,” Ithra continued. “And the reason why she wanted to become a Jedi was because she so admired the Jedi who freed her.”

 

“Yes, the Jedi often meddle in affairs that are none of their concern,” Berland commented absently.

 

“And, she said that holding to the Jedi path is difficult for her being that she has, as she put it, ‘hot Cathar blood.’”

 

“Indeed.”

 

A moment of silence passed—Berland busy entering data, Ithra watching him.

 

“She fell to the Dark Side once,” Ithra blurted.

 

Berland suddenly paused.

 

“She said it was Rade who showed her the path of the true Jedi,” Ithra continued. “She seems to hold him in very high regard.”

 

“Fell to the Dark Side?” The corner of Berland’s mouth slowly rose upwards into a twisted grin as he looked up. “Interesting,” he mused. “Ithra, you’ve done well to gather such worthwhile information. I shall mention this in my report.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

While Berland quietly resumed his work, Ithra opened the container of Zorgang nuts. There were so many colours to choose from, she wasn’t sure which one to try first. The hard nuts rattled and grated along the sides of the box.

 

It wasn’t long before the irritating sounds caused Berland to glance up and glare at her. “Ithra, would you please be quiet,” he said, frowning. “I am trying to work here.”

 

Ithra smiled apologetically and held up a bright orange nut. “Zorgang nuts. Jolee Bindo gave them to me,” she said. She popped the nut into her mouth, then nodded with satisfaction. “He was right. They are quite tasty.”

 

Berland stared at her dumbfounded. “You conversed with another outlander? On your own accord?”

 

Ithra nodded while she daintily selected another nut, this time a bright blue one. “And, I also encountered the T’wilek girl, and the Mandalorian, and the Wookiee.”

 

Berland nearly dropped his datapad. “Why, Ithra,” he said, astonished. “I’m impressed.”

 

“The Jedi Juhani sent me to Jolee Bindo when I asked her about alternatives to the food dispensers." She paused to eat another nut. "But I only met the others because I took a wrong turn in the corridor on the way back here. I found the Mandalorian to be true to rumour. Ill-mannered and vulgar.”

 

Berland donned an amused smile as he set down his datapad. “And what did you discover about our fellow travellers?”

 

Ithra took a moment to consider, and to eat another nut. “Well, the old man, Jolee Bindo, is easily distracted, and I found his thoughts often hard to follow. He talked mainly about Wookiees. He said he spent years in a place he called… the Shadowlands?”

 

“A place on the Wookiee’s homeworld,” Berland explained. “Go on.”

 

“When I encountered him, he was busy rearranging the medical supplies to hide containers like this one.” She raised the container of nuts. “I’ve heard that smugglers often do such things. I think he could have been one once.”

 

“Maybe he still is,” Berland concluded.

 

“At any rate, he seemed most eager to help me.”

 

“Perhaps a little too eager?” Berland hinted.

 

“Perhaps,” Ithra agreed. “But I believe his benevolence was genuine.”

 

Berland held up a mindful finger. “Beware of generosity without familiarity,” he cautioned. “He could be just trying to win you over so that he may ply you with questions later on.”

 

Ithra gave an obedient nod. “I asked him about the T’wilek girl. He said she was a…a ‘slicer?’ I’m still not sure exactly what that is, but it sounds criminal.”

 

“Indeed. Go on.”

 

“Then I asked about the Wookiee, what he did on board the ship. Jolee said Zalbaar, that’s the beast’s name,” she added condescendingly, “was sort of the security officer on board—skilled with all sorts of weapons as well as in demolitions. Oh, and the Wookiee has a life debt to Rade,” she added. “Some sort of honour debt that he will serve until….”

 

“Yes, I know what a life debt is,” Berland interrupted. “Excellent work, Ithra,” he praised her. “Anything else?”

 

“I witnessed the T’wilek, Mission she’s called, and the Mandalorian, Canderous, playing a wagering game called Pazaak. She invited me to join them.” Berland’s eyes widened. “The game seemed easy to play—the person that has the highest total not exceeding twenty…”

 

“Please tell me that you did not accept her invitation to play,” he pleaded.

 

“Certainly not!” she said defensively, although her eyes belied the fact that she had wanted to. “I politely declined.”

 

“Good. Never play a game until you know all of the rules. Especially if the game involves a wager.”

 

“They weren’t wagering credits. They were playing for nuts.”

 

Berland rolled his eyes. “Wagering is wagering. Do not be fooled by such poor camouflage.” He sighed. “Did you learn *anything* useful from observing them?”

 

Ithra considered for a moment. “Despite his overconfident attitude, the Mandalorian is not a good Pazaak player.”

 

“Well, I suppose that might be useful,” Berland said with some disappointment. “Still, you did well. The information you gained could be advantageous later on. Now, do you understand why I was upset with you earlier at having a droid assigned to us instead of a sentient being? Sentients can be plied, influenced, persuaded to do things by using their weaknesses against them,” Berland explained. “Droids cannot.”

 

Just then, the privacy chime on the door activated.

 

“Enter,” Berland said authoritatively.

 

The door whooshed open, and HK-47 stood at the threshold. Berland’s mouth dropped at the sight of the familiar rusty red droid.

 

“Greeting: I am HK-47, a fully functional protocol droid, temporarily assigned to insure any of your petty and incidental meatbag needs are met with minimal disturbance to the crew.”

 

Ithra raised an eyebrow. “Meatbag?” She gave Berland a strange look.

 

“Retraction: Oh, did I say that out loud?” said HK-47. “I apologise. It has been a long time since I have been assigned to serve a meatbag in this capacity.”

 

“Berland, this droid is malfunctioning,” said Ithra as she moved closer to investigate it.

 

“Statement: Keeper Ithra, I assure you I am functioning perfectly within my established parameters.”

 

“Which are?” Ithra asked.

 

“Answer: Why, to facilitate communications and terminate hostilities. However, my master has restricted the use of some of my more… unique abilities.”

 

“Ithra,” Berland asked, while his narrowed eyes were focused on the droid, “do you recall my earlier comments about droids and influence?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, they don't apply to this one.” Berland eyed the droid over. “Well, well, HK-47 is it? I seem to recall a very capable droid of the same designation and likeness when I served Lord Revan.”

 

“Proud Answer: Why, yes! In fact, I am the very same droid that selected you, Berland, as my Master’s personal meatbag assistant. Sadly, my master had transferred you before I was able to terminate your employment myself.”

 

“Berland…?” Ithra took a step backwards.

 

“And is that why you are here?” Berland asked warily. “To ‘terminate’ me?”

 

“Negatory: I have been specifically instructed to ignore my previous protocols and ensure the safety of the meatbags now under my care.”

 

“And Rade Chano has assigned you to care for us?” Ithra asked, more of a statement than a question.

 

“Answer: Yes. As degrading as the task is, I have been instructed to serve you and your meatbag mentor while you are aboard the Ebon Hawk.”

 

“Degrading?” Berland suddenly brightened. “HK-47, with your exceptional skills and qualifications it must be very frustrating for you to be treated as a common utility droid. It’s a shame that your master holds such little regard for you now that he’s been… redeemed.”

 

“Disclosure: I am programmed to obey my master. However, I do find it somewhat disconcerting that my master has developed such an irritating fondness and concern for meatbags and consistently refuses to utilise the full range of my more ‘unique’ skills.”

 

“Unique skills?” Ithra asked Berland.

 

“He’s an assassin droid,” Berland said.

 

Ithra gasped in horror. “What?! But that’s illega…”

 

Berland clamped a quick but gentle hand over Ithra’s mouth. “Shh.”

 

“Statement: Possession of an assassin droid is indeed illegal. Clarification: I am a fully capable translator and cultural analyst skilled in facilitating communication and terminating hostilities.”

 

“Which incidentally requires it to have knowledge of personal combat skills,” Berland said to Ithra as he uncovered her mouth, “for example, during specific situations that may require more aggressive negotiations.”

 

“Commentary: I am quite surprised, Berland, that your meatbag mind is able to appreciate the nuances of my programming.”

 

“It’s a shame, really, that a Jedi has no need for your sophisticated talents,” said Berland. “If you were my droid, I’m sure I could manage to find tasks more suited for your superior qualifications.”

 

“Conjecture: I do not believe my master would sell me to a meatbag such as yourself.”

 

“No, I don’t suppose he would.” Berland sighed. “Never mind. It’s probably the Jedi’s intention to allow your ‘special’ protocols to be corrupted by disuse over time. Pity really, but,” he shrugged, “what can a droid do?”

 

“Query: Are you suggesting that my master desires my programming to be altered?!”

 

“I am not suggesting anything,” said Berland. He gave Ithra a quick look, and then grinned. “I’m merely making an observation. Tell me, has Rade Chano ever asked you to eliminate a target?”

 

“Answer: No, he has never given me such an order.”

 

“Ever asked you to covertly sabotage someone’s ship?”

 

“Answer: No, he has not.”

 

“Hmm, well, I suppose he wouldn’t do those things, being a Jedi,” Berland said contemplatively. “What about asking you to incapacitate a target so that he may capture them alive?”

 

“Answer: No.”

 

“How about allowing you to interrogate a captive yourself?”

 

There was a pause. “Answer: Sadly, no.”

 

“Ach, to see such valuable skills wasted.” Berland shook his head and tutted. “Very sad indeed. Still, I suppose such things can’t be helped, being as Rade’s *your* master and you must obey *him*.”

 

HK-47 went unusually silent.

 

“Please, thank your master for placing you at our disposal,” Berland said. “And if we require any mundane or petty tasks for you to do, we will summon you on the comlink. Until then, you may remove yourself to the cargo bay.”

 

“Statement: As you wish.” HK-47 turned and left, and Berland closed the door.

 

“Berland,” Ithra asked, “is it wise to attempt to plant a seed of dissention in an assassin droid?”

 

Berland grinned secretively. “We shall see. Now, then….” He rubbed his hands together. “I have a report to finish.”

[Renegade Puma]

Great job Jasra! Keep up the excellent work my friend

[JasraLantill]

Bastila was alone in the cockpit, sitting in front of the navigation station double checking the Ebon Hawk’s progress to Jantessa, when she felt a pair of warm hands gently grip the back of her neck.

 

“You’re tense,” Rade said as his hands began to gently massage her.

 

“I have a feeling that something isn’t right,” she said, relaxing slightly under his touch. “That this mission involves more than just finding and returning this relic to the Jantessans.”

 

“I know what you mean. I feel it, too.” Rade intensified his efforts steadily moving his hands gently across her shoulders. “Where’s Carth?”

 

“Engine room. He muttered something about double checking a coupling and left a few minutes ago.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Good?”

 

“Not good about the coupling, but good that we’re alone,” Rade clarified. “This ship seems a whole lot smaller with the addition of just two people. We haven’t had a moment to ourselves.”

 

“Well, a Jedi’s life is sacrifice,” Bastila said coyly. Rade ran his thumbs up and down her neck in a fluid motion, causing her to let out an unintentional moan of pleasure. “Oh, that feels good,” she whispered gratefully.

 

“I was thinking,” said Rade. “After our passengers disembark, I’ll maybe take the new ‘guest’ quarters as my own. You know, convert them into the captain’s quarters.”

 

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extravagant for a Jedi?”

 

“Not really. There are occasions when a captain needs privacy.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Well, for example, it would be helpful to have someplace private to conduct negotiations.”

 

“Negotiations with whom?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rade mused. “Maybe the captain of another ship, or a diplomat, or….” He worked his hands down her spine a bit, soliciting another involuntary moan.

 

“Yes, I… can see… how that might… be beneficial,” Bastila said, between the pulses of his kneading fingers.

 

Rade grinned. “Glad you agree.”

 

Rade heard a purposeful cough, then heavy footsteps approaching. His hands immediately stilled, coming to rest lightly on the back of Bastila’s chair. “So, how long before we reach Jantessa?” he asked her, as Carth entered the cockpit.

 

“Nineteen hours and seven minutes,” Bastila said, straightening herself in her chair. “Everything all right, Carth?”

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Carth said, taking his seat and purposefully ignoring their proximity to one another. “I was just getting some odd fluctuations from a sensor near the intake coupling. I might have to do some adjustments when we dock, but it doesn’t look like it’s a big problem.”

 

“Good,” said Rade.

 

“You might want to check on HK though,” Carth said to Rade. “Mission mentioned he was acting a bit strange.”

 

“Strange? How?”

 

“She said he was too quiet.”

 

Bastilla snorted. “That sounds like an improvement, not a malfunction.”

 

“Yeah, well, I think it’s a bit more than that,” said Carth. “I believe her exact words were, ‘He sorta sounds like he’s kinda depressed or something.’”

 

“Depressed?” Rade’s brow wrinkled with doubt. “I wasn’t aware droids got depressed.”

 

“That’s why you might want to take a look at him. I would’ve done it myself, but, well, you know how he is.”

 

“I’ll take a look.” Rade gave Bastila’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave.

 

“Oh, and I think you were right about our innocent-looking young guest,” Carth added. “Jolee told me Ithra’s been asking a lot of questions about the crew.”

 

Rade paused. “Oh? What kind of questions?”

 

“Specific questions about backgrounds, skills, experience… those kind of questions.”

 

“Ah,” Rade said knowingly. “Well, maybe HK can shed some light on that as well. After all, he’s been waiting on our guests.”

 

“And you wonder why he’s depressed?” Bastila commented under her breath.

 

********

 

Mission, Canderous, and Zalbaar were still playing Pazaak when Rade walked in.

 

“Did Carth send you to check on HK?” Mission asked.

 

Rade nodded.

 

“Good,” said Mission. “He’s acting really weird. He came in and told us to move so he could put his weapons away in one of the lockers. When we asked him why, he said something about ‘unnecessary functions,’ then went and stood in the corner.” She pointed to where HK stood inconspicuously behind some cargo containers.

 

“And he refuses to run any fight sims,” Canderous added.

 

Zalbaar uttered a series of repetitive grunts and a growl.

 

“That’s right,” Mission said to the Wookiee. “He hasn’t called us ‘meatbags’ once. Not once,” she repeated emphatically. “It’s like he’s depressed or something.” She shook her head with disbelief. “Weird.”

 

Rade raised his eyebrows. “Indeed.” He walked over to the rusty red combat droid. “Hello, HK.”

 

“HK-47 is ready to serve, master.”

 

“HK, how are you?”

 

“Statement: All of my systems are functioning within established parameters.”

 

“I have some questions for you.” Rade waited for a lippy comment or quip to follow, but none came. “Erm… aren’t you going to ask if I need something killed?”

 

“Statement: Master, there is no logical reason to ask a question when the answer is already known.”

 

“I see. HK, I notice that you don’t have your blasters. Was there something wrong with them?”

 

“Answer: My blasters are functioning perfectly. They are currently stored in the weapons locker.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Answer: Blasters are of little use to a protocol droid not actively involved in defensive activities or aggressive negotiations.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Rade said slowly. “And how are our guests faring?”

 

“Answer: Envoy Berland and Keeper Ithra are in perfect health and appear to be content.”

 

“So you haven’t had any problems with either of them?”

 

“Answer: No, master.”

 

Rade frowned. HK hadn’t yet made a single contentious comment or used the word ‘meatbag’. “HK, has anyone performed any recent maintenance on you?”

 

“Answer: Routine system maintenance was last performed on me by Senior Technical Officer Seri Ollana in the Jedi Temple’s maintenance bay.”

 

“And has anyone attempted to access or alter your memory core?”

 

“Answer: Other than yourself, no, master.”

 

Rade rubbed his chin. “HK, how did Berland react when you went to inform him that you were sent to serve him and Keeper Ithra?”

 

“Answer: Berland was calm, master.”

 

“He didn’t seem surprised to see you?”

 

“Answer: Berland did initially enquire if my purpose was to terminate him. But once I assured him that I had been specifically instructed to ignore my previous protocols, he did not pursue the issue.”

 

“Did he say anything else to you?”

 

HK was silent for a moment. “Answer: Yes, master.”

 

Rade rolled his eyes. “This is like pulling teeth,” he muttered under his breath. “What did Berland say to you?”

 

Again, HK took his time in answering. “Answer: Berland expressed his appreciation for the nuances of my programming and superior skills. He also wished me to pass on his thanks to you for placing me at his disposal.”

 

Rade let out an annoyed sigh. “I see. Thank you, HK.” He left to go speak to Berland himself.

 

*********

 

Rade opened the door of the port dormitory without waiting for permission to enter.

 

“My apologies for barging in like this, Keeper Ithra,” he said, as he barrelled past her. “But I need to have a word with your envoy. Alone.”

 

Before Berland could lodge a protest, Rade grabbed him by the back of the neck, and making certain that Berland’s long braid of dark hair was securely entangled between his fingers.

 

“Ahh…ow!” Berland uttered, as Rade drug him down the corridor, around the corner, and into the old cargo bay, which was now outfitted as the male dormitory.

 

“Now then,” Rade said, releasing Berland with a shove. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

 

“How dare you!” Berland seethed. “How dare you treat me in such an obscene manner!”

 

“As you pointed out earlier, I’m the captain of this ship,” said Rade, blocking the exit. “I can do what I want.”

 

“Ah, but you’re a *Jedi* now,” Berland said condescendingly. “You’ll do what the Jedi Council tells you to. And rest assured they will not be pleased by how you are treating a diplomatic envoy who is in your care!”

 

Rade snorted contemptuously. “You know, even though my memory has been altered, I still seem to have a *slight* problem with authority.” He flashed a quick grin. “Now, what have you done to my HK droid?”

 

“I am a diplomat, not a mechanic. I have never laid a finger on your droid.”

 

“Not physically, you haven’t, but you have done something to him.”

 

“If your HK droid is malfunctioning, I would suspect it is due to some incompetent Jedi technician,” Berland sneered. “I imagine they are quite unfamiliar with the *unusual* protocol functions your droid seems to possess.”

 

Rade’s jaw set. “You’re smooth, Berland,” said Rade. “I’ll give you that much. But what I won’t give you is continued unrestricted access to my ship or my crew. I’m confining you and Keeper Ithra to your quarters.”

 

“Confine us to….!” Berland protested. “May I remind you that we are guests, not prisoners!”

 

“Exactly,” said Rade. “We’ll be arriving at Jantessa in about nineteen hours and for your own safety, it would be best if you were confined to your quarters. If my HK droid is malfunctioning, I don’t want to have any accidents being blamed on his *unusual* protocols.”

 

Berland’s eyes blazed with anger and he raised his right hand as if contemplating a Force attack.

 

“You really don’t want to do that,” Rade warned. “HK did tell me that one of the reasons he chose you as my assistant was because you were weak in the Force.”

 

Berland slowly lowered his hand, but his eyes still burned. “Weak, am I?” His left hand suddenly struck out, sending Rade burling across the room and slamming into the bulkhead.

 

Rade quickly shook it off, and countered with a Force Wave of his own. Berland flew backwards and skidded across the floor, hitting the opposite bulkhead with a loud thud.

 

“*Former* Sith, eh?” Rade said, sending a Force Whirlwind Berland’s way.

 

To Rade’s surprise, Berland easily repelled the attack. Bolts of Force Lightning streamed from Berland’s fingertips, narrowly missing Rade as the Jedi deftly dodged and rolled to the left. “*Former* does not mean *weaker*,” Berland sneered, as he prepared to deliver another jolt.

 

“Stop it!” Ithra had appeared in the doorway, horrified at the Force duel that was apparently taking place. She pointed a finger at Rade. “That’s enough, infidel!”

 

Taking advantage of Ithra’s sudden interruption, Rade attempted to throw Berland back with a Force Push, but to his surprise, he found himself launched back against the wall instead.

 

Berland, too, tried to take advantage of the girl’s sudden arrival. With a malicious snarl on his lips, he stretched out his hand. Force Lightning again leapt from his fingertips, but the bolts contorted and curled back on themselves, targeting Berland instead. He howled as his body spasmed with pain, but instead of Rade, his gaze was focused on Ithra.

 

Bastila and Juhani soon appeared in the doorway next to Ithra. “What’s going on!” Bastila demanded.

 

Rade stood up, slightly confused at how his Force Push had landed him against the wall and how Berland’s Force Lightning had turned on him as well. “Our *former* Sith decided to show his true colours,” he said.

 

“You goaded me, Jedi!” Berland snapped. “Admit it!”

 

“I said enough!” Ithra shouted. “Both of you!” She folded her arms angrily across her chest. “I will not tolerate such blasphemous use of the Force in my presence!”

 

“Forgive me, my lady,” Berland said, rising slowly. He glared at Rade. “I lost my temper when the Jedi said he was confining us to our quarters.”

 

“What?” Ithra’s eyes narrowed as she met Rade’s gaze. “Have we done something to offend you?”

 

“Your envoy has damaged my droid.”

 

“Liar,” Berland hissed.

 

“And I understand you have been asking a lot of questions,” Rade continued.

 

“Very specific questions,” Bastila added.

 

“Yes, I have,” Ithra calmly admitted. “Berland thought it was a good idea for me to practice my conversational skills with the outlan… with the crew.” She turned to Juhani. “Up until this very moment, I thought I was doing well.”

 

“I don’t think Ithra’s meant any harm,” Juhani said to Rade as she moved to stand next to Ithra. “She is just curious, that’s all.”

 

Bastila snorted. “Yes. Very curious,” she said quietly.

 

“I have no objections to being secluded in our quarters,” said Ithra. “Especially if it will calm any ‘historical’ tensions between us.” She gave a quick glance at Berland. “So, if not the droid,” she asked Rade, “who will be attending to our needs while we are confined?”

 

“I’ll look after you,” Juhani offered.

 

“Juhani, are you sure?” Rade asked.

 

Juhani nodded. “I think Ithra and I have a better understanding of each other now that we’ve talked.”

 

“Fine,” said Rade. “Well, Berland, I’m glad we’ve had this little chat. I think we have a better understanding of each other, too. Don’t you think?”

 

Berland’s mouth twitched. “Oh, most definitely.” He straightened his tunic and pushed his way past Bastila and Juhani. “Come, Ithra.”

 

Ithra eyed Rade over before following Berland back to their dormitory.

 

“Juhani, be careful,” Rade said. “They’re up to something.”

[Renegade Puma]

Bravo! Bravo! Hip hip hooray! What a great chapter Jasra, your best one yet. This is really a great read. I am going to take a wild guess right now and say that Keeper Ithra is going to save the day at some point in this story And Rade is going to be tempted to rejoin the darkside at some point. But I will just have to wait and see Keep up the more than excellent work.

[Hallucination]

Great job! Keep it up, but I was hoping to see some HK-style blasterness .

[JasraLantill]

Thanks for the encouraging comments from you both! I've written the story in a synopsis form all the way through and I'm 'filling in' the chapters as I go. Every crew member has a part to play, so rest assured HK will have some blaster time in future! As for Ithra and Rade....well, you'll just have to be patient!

[JasraLantill]

Ithra followed Berland into the port dormitory. Once the door was closed, she shouted angrily, “Berland, you promised!”

 

“No,” he said between clenched teeth. “I said I would try.”

 

“Oooh!” she bellowed furiously. “I can’t believe you *did* such a thing in my presence!” she said, pacing angrily across the dormitory floor. “How could you!”

 

“I’m sorry, Ithra,” said Berland, wincing slightly from his bruises as he sat down on one of the beds.

 

“You have no idea how disturbing your little exhibition was to me, do you?” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “No idea! None at all!”

 

Berland sighed. “I said I was sorry,” he repeated. “But the opportunity presented itself and I had to take it.”

 

“You know how it makes me feel when I reflect someone using the Force that way!” she continued to rant. “You knew, and yet you continued anyway! It felt like… like….” Ithra shivered and hugged herself with her arms while she paced. “Ugh! It felt like my skin was crawling with a million and one Dylwyn Ants!”

 

Berland rubbed the arm that had borne the brunt of her reflecting his Force Lightning attack upon himself. “I can assure you, Ithra, it didn’t feel very good on my end either.”

 

She paced a few more steps, then shivered again. “I need a bath! A long, hot bath! And when Prefect Keel hears about this he’s going to…!”

 

“Now, now,” Berland firmly interrupted. “You know that the confrontation had to take place. Agreed, it was unfortunate that you were in such close proximity, but you know as well as I do that it had to happen eventually.”

 

Ithra’s jaw set. A moment of silence passed. “All I can say it that your plan had better work.”

 

“It will.” Berland smiled. “Now, when we reach Jantessa, there’s something that I want you to do….”

 

******

 

The Ebon Hawk jolted slightly as it came out of hyperspace.

 

“Well, there it is,” Carth said. “Jantessa.”

 

Carth and Bastila set about orbiting the planet, while Rade went to inform Berland and Ithra that they had finally arrived.

 

“It’s lovely,” Bastilla said admiringly about the planet. “Purple and blue seas, swathes of green across the continents….” Her forehead wrinkled with puzzlement. “What’s that shimmer?”

 

“That would be their shields,” said Carth.

 

Suddenly, an alarm began to bleep. “What’s happening?” Bastila asked. “Are we too close?”

 

“No, just an outgoing transmission,” said Carth, just as Rade was returning. “You were right,” he said, turning to Rade. “Looks like our ‘guests’ are sending a coded transmission to the surface.”

 

“Figured they would as soon as I left them alone. Have you made contact with the port authorities yet?”

 

“I hailed them, but so far no response.” Carth looked at Bastila. “Maybe a Jedi would have better luck in getting an answer.”

 

Bastila cleared her throat, and then pushed the button for the comlink. “This is Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order on board the Ebon Hawk,” she said in a clear but lofty tone. “We require immediate shield clearance and docking instructions. Send them now, or I shall be forced to inform Prime Keeper Ithra and her envoy. I can assure you they will not be pleased about the delay.”

 

A brief moment passed, and then the panel in front of Carth bleeped twice. He looked at Bastila askance.

 

“I downloaded what little information there was on Jantessa from the Jedi Archives before we left,” Bastila explained. “From what I could extrapolate, they prefer specific and direct instructions, and have a high regard for position and authority.”

 

“Bastila, if you had told us that earlier,” said Rade, “it might have made our journey a bit more pleasant.”

 

“Well, it was difficult to extract any useful information from the files,” Bastila said hesitantly. “Most of the records I encountered were… instructions.”

 

“Instructions for what?”

 

Bastila hesitated. “Food preparation.”

 

“What, like recipes?” Carth stifled a laugh. “You mean you spent all this time reading through a Jantessan cookbook?”

 

“Like I said,” Bastila said crossly, “there wasn’t much useful information in the archives. But the recipe instructions were very precise, and there were several references to ‘official’ and ‘authorised’ ingredients.” She paused. “I don’t really know much about cooking, but some of their ingredients seemed quite strange. I mean, I’ve no idea what Essence of Vercoumna is, do you?”

 

“What was it used for?” asked Rade.

 

“I believe it was for some sort of ritual bread. The recipe said to add the Essence to a mixture of ground grains and fermented fungal extracts, and then to expose it to a slow rising temperature over a period of three days while…”

 

“All right, everyone hold on,” Carth interrupted. “We’re passing through the shield corridor.”

 

Travelling through the corridor was like sliding through a kaleidoscope—the shield shimmered and danced with all the colours of a rainbow as the Ebon Hawk descended through it. Suddenly, there was a loud boom, and the Hawk lurched violently.

 

“What was that?” Rade asked Carth.

 

“Think we might have grazed the outer edge of the shield,” Carth said, as he struggled to keep control. “They sure didn’t give us much room to manoeuvre.”

 

Another boom and a lurch. Finally, the Ebon Hawk broke through into the atmosphere of the planet where they were met by two Jantessan fighter escorts, similar in design to the Republic’s, but smaller and much more streamlined.

 

“You will follow us to the designated landing area where you will receive further instructions,” ordered a static charged voice over the comm.

 

“Just do what they say,” Bastila said to Carth as he opened his mouth to protest.

 

“If your course deviates, you will be fired upon,” the fighter escort voice continued. “You will not be cautioned. Do you understand?”

 

Bastila hit the com button. “Yes. We understand.”

 

The ‘designated landing area’ for visitors was located just outside of the Jantessan’s capital city of Aru. As the Ebon Hawk approached, Ithra wandered into the cockpit. Rade frowned at her.

 

“I know I should be in my quarters, but… is it all right if I look out the window?” she asked him rather shyly. “I wasn’t able to do so on the outbound journey, and I’ve never seen the city of Aru from this far above.”

 

Rade’s frown softened, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. Just go stand over there.”

 

Ithra moved to stand to the side of Bastila. Her eyes widened as she gazed down at the approaching planet surface. “Aru looks so tiny from up here. Even the Haven looks small.”

 

“The Haven?” Bastila asked, turning her head to face her.

 

Ithra cocked an ear toward Bastila but kept her gaze fixed on Aru as they descended. “See the Five Spires? There?” She pointed. “The Haven is the tallest—the violet spire right at the edge of the waters of the Northmere. It’s where the Prime Keepers used to live.”

 

Bastila’s gaze followed to where Ithra was pointing. At one end of the city, she could just make out the five tall spires near a body of calm violet-blue water. Each one was the centre point of a large pentagonal building, surrounded by smaller buildings and patches of deep green. “Where they *used* to live?”

 

“No one lives in the Haven now,” Ithra said distantly. “Not since the Contamination. Most, like me, live in the Priory now. That’s the silver spire to the south. And next to it, is the Matrix, where the Great Hall is. And on the other side, the Refectory.” She sighed. “I think I will appreciate the meals they serve there much more after my experience with what you seem to want to call food.”

 

“What’s the building on the end? The one with the black spire, set apart from the rest.”

 

“The Foundry.” Ithra paused. “There are a few who live there, but it is forbidden to speak of them.”

 

“Why?”

 

Ithra turned to Bastila. “Because,” she said matter-of-factly, “they are infidels and traitors.”

 

Bastila frowned. “It’s a prison?”

 

Ithra shook her head. “It’s a place where one is sent to be… re-educated.”

 

Rade lifted an eyebrow at her comment. “Re-educated how?”

 

Ithra didn’t answer his question. “Has Prefect Keel contacted you yet?” she asked him instead.

 

“No. Why?”

 

Ithra gave a non-committal shrug. “Berland sent word to him about your… previous visit,” she confessed. “Upon our arrival he will ask to meet with you, alone. It would anger him if you refuse his invitation.” She turned to leave, then stopped just at the entrance to the corridor. “A word of advice, Rade Chano.” She paused for a moment, as if considering how to continue. “Our laws permit an arbiter to accompany one when being summoned in front of a Prefect.” She flicked her eyes towards Bastila. “I would suggest you select Bastila for the task. Prefect Keel has a weakness for beautiful women.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Rade asked suspiciously.

 

Ithra snorted with disdain. “Because it would displease Berland, and I am angry with him at the moment. Why else?” With a flourish of her cloak, she quickly turned and left.

 

“Hmmph,” Carth snorted. “Now *that* was an interesting display.”

 

“Yes, it was,” Rade agreed. “Bastila?”

 

“I didn’t detect any intent on her part to deceive,” she said. “But…, she is hard to read.”

 

“Look, even I could tell there was something important she wasn’t telling us,” said Carth.

 

The Ebon Hawk suddenly shuddered.

 

Rade looked over Carth’s shoulder at the control panels. “What now?”

 

“They’ve locked a tractor beam on us. Probably just guiding us in to the docking port.”

 

A cheery sounding chime came over the com. “Welcome, visitors. You are now approaching the decontamination field,” said a pleasant, automated female voice. “Please disengage your drive systems while you are guided to the quarantine docking platforms.”

 

“See?” Carth began to initiate engine shutdown. “Nothing to worry ab….” Carth suddenly frowned. “Uh-oh.”

 

“Please disengage your drive systems while you are guided to the quarantine docking platforms,” the voice repeated.

 

The Ebon Hawk shuddered more violently and the engines started to whine.

 

“Problem?” asked Rade.

 

“Erm…you remember that power coupling that was giving me some erratic readings?” Carth asked, as he pushed more buttons.

 

There was another hard jolt, and Rade grabbed the back of Carth’s chair for balance.

 

“Please disengage your drive systems while you are guided to the quarantine docking platforms,” the voice repeated.

 

“Carth, just shut down the engines,” Bastila said, her voice sounding slightly worried.

 

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Carth said, frantically pushing more buttons and pulling more levers. “The intake is stuck wide open. I can’t power down!”

 

“Bastila, see if you can make contact with the port authorities,” said Rade. “Tell them we’re having a problem.”

 

“Please disengage your drive systems while you are guided to the quarantine docking platforms.”

 

The shuddering was getting worse. Everything was vibrating and the hull began to make strange creaking noises.

 

“They’re not responding to our hail!” said Bastila, clinging to the comm panel for support. “And our escorts have just left us!”

 

“Please disengage your drive systems while you are guided to the quarantine docking platforms.”

 

Another sudden jolt. Sparks showered from one of the panels near the star chart and Rade shielded his eyes. “Damn!”

 

“If I can’t get the engines shut down,” Carth said, his voice sounding staccato from the vibrations, “this is going to be a very, short, mission!”

 

“Please disengage your drive systems while you are guided to the quarantine docking platforms.”

 

Carth wiped sweat from his brow. “If… I... can… just… get… the….”

 

Quite suddenly, the shuddering ceased. The lights dimmed, and then a blue light filled the cockpit. Everything was deathly quiet.

 

The blue light vanished. “Thank you,” the automated voice said, breaking the thick silence. “Decontamination complete. Your co-operation is appreciated.”

 

Carth let out a sigh of relief. “That was close. Let’s just hope they allow us to do some maintenance before we leave.”

 

The tractor beam guided the Ebon Hawk through to a docking bay, and as the ship touched down, the bay door quickly slammed shut.

 

“Docking complete,” said the automated voice. “Please disembark and await further instructions.”

[Renegade Puma]

Good chapter Jasra. I can't wait to see what you do with the planet and it's people Your story is progressing nicely.

[Renegade Puma]

I need my hidden shades of gray fix!! Ahhhh!!! Must have more story!

[The Doctor]

I haven't read any of this in a while. Just pasted it all into a wpd so I can read it whenever, if that's alright.

 

[inside joke]And you need to mention yelt rats more often:xp:[/inside joke]

[JasraLantill]

((Sorry it's been a while since I've posted a chapter. Had a little 'sequencing' problem to work out, but it's resolved now and things are moving once again!))

_____________________________________

Chapter 8--part 1

 

 

“What?! Aw, you can’t be serious!” Carth complained to the droid stationed by the heavily secured exit from the Jantessan ‘visitor lounge’ back to the hanger bay. “We just want to board our ship!”

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” said the protocol droid, in a most irritatingly pleasant female voice. “A Class Six control pass is required for any visitor wishing to depart the visitor’s lounge.”

 

Upon their arrival, the crew of the Ebon Hawk had been relieved of all of their weapons and escorted by Berland and Ithra to the visitor’s lounge area where they were to remain until Rade had completed his meeting with Prefect Keel. Berland had explained that they were “absolutely not under any type of house arrest” and had insisted that the security cameras and various droids were merely stationed at the exits in order to prevent any ‘unauthorised contacts’ between the Jantessans who worked in the facility and any visiting ‘outlanders’. All of their needs—food, rest, entertainment—would be seen to, provided that they stayed put.

 

To Berland’s chagrin, Rade had taken Ithra’s advice in selecting Bastila as an arbiter to accompany him to his meeting with the Prefect. Berland had been visibly irritated by Rade’s knowledge of the law, but then he had smirked and suggested that Rade also bring HK along. Rade had agreed, and so the five of them had left to go to the Prefect’s office.

 

The Jantessans were certainly very generous to their visitors, even if they couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them. Not a single Jantessan was in sight, except for the permanent and annoying holovid newscaster on the terminal in the far corner of the room.

 

All of the visitors’ needs were tended to by droids. And they were everywhere—security droids, protocol droids, serving droids, utility droids, and an entire fleet of cleaning droids that kept the facility clean to the point of being sterile. Entertainment was varied—there were pazaak tables and gaming terminals, a recreation facility with a swimming pool, an excellent restaurant, luxury sleeping quarters, even a cantina with a holovid Bith band with T’wilek dancers. Yes, despite what they called it, the Jantessans’ had gilded their visitor’s cage quite nicely. There were other ‘outlanders’ there, too—traders mostly—and the crew of the Ebon Hawk made no protest to stay and relax for a while.

 

Yet three hours later, Rade and Bastila had not returned. Carth was beginning to worry. He and the rest of the crew thought it might be a good idea to try and contact them from the Ebon Hawk through their com links, under the guise of wanting to check out any damage that had occurred when they had landed. So, far they weren’t having much success.

 

“Okay…so how do we get a Class Six control pass?” Carth asked.

 

“Applications for Class Six control passes can be submitted to the administrative assistant at the Departures Office on the first and last days of the week between the hours of ten and twelve or between sixteen hundred and eighteen hundred hours, and on the second and fourth rest days between the hours of five and seven or fourteen hundred and sixteen hundred hours, with the exception of State recognised holidays, to include Meering Day observance week, State in-service days, State training days, Prefectory elections,…”

 

Carth closed his eyes and sighed as the droid rambled on for another full minute.

 

“Fine. Is the Departures Office open now to submit an application?” Canderous intervened.

 

The droid paused for a brief moment while it calculated. “Why, yes, sir. At the moment, it is open.”

 

Carth brightened as he caught Canderous’ train of thought. “Good,” Carth said. “I’d like to submit an application.”

 

“Very well, sir,” said the droid. “Forms may be obtained from the Permits Office every other day between the hours of….”

 

Carth’s head drooped. “Just tell me how to get to damned Permits Office!” he interrupted.

 

“Certainly, sir. Proceed through these doors, then down the corridor, take the second right, down the hall through the double doors, then take the first left, up the stairs, proceed through the atrium, and you will find the Permits Office located at the end of the corridor marked ‘A’.”

 

“Thank you,” said Carth.

 

“Great,” Canderous added. They both started for the door.

 

The droids arm shot out, blocking Carth’s way. “Please present your Class Six control pass for verification and access.”

 

“I’m just going to the Permits Office to get one,” said Carth.

 

“You just gave us directions, remember?” said Canderous.

 

“Yes, sir. I do recall giving you directions. Would you like them repeated?”

 

“No, I don’t want them repeated!” Canderous forcibly attempted to go around the droid.

 

Carth stopped him by grabbing his arm. Over in the far corner, a laser turret moved, pointing its barrel at him. Carth nodded in its direction.

 

“Erm…Carth?” Mission interrupted. She pointed to the turret.

 

“Yeah, we see it Mission,” Carth said, still holding back Canderous. “Is there another way to get to the Permits Office from this location?” Carth asked the droid.

 

“No, sir,” the droid replied. “There are no alternative access points to the Permits Office from your present location.”

 

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Carth said, after a heavy sigh of irritation. “You’re not going to let us through this door without a Class Six pass.”

 

“That is correct, sir.”

 

“And we can’t get an application to apply for a Class Six pass unless we go through this door?” asked Canderous.

 

“That is correct, sir.”

 

There was the sound of heavy laughter from behind them. “First visit to Jantessa? Frustrating, ain’t it?” said a gruff voice.

 

Carth turned to see a burly, scruffy looking man leaning cockily against the wall a few metres away from where he and the rest of the crew stood. He had a scraggly dark beard, streaked here and there with grey, and close set dark eyes framed by equally scraggly brows. His shirt was clean, and although it was so faded that its original colour was hard to determine, Carth didn’t figure the man to be the type that would have chosen ‘mauve’ on his own accord. His outfit was completed by a pair of well-worn leather trousers, tucked into equally worn and scuffed up leather boots, and topped off with a Krayt dragon hide jacket that looked like it had seen more hard times than the current wearer had.

 

“Name’s Krex,” the man introduced himself, as he approached holding out a grubby nail-bitten hand. “Gilt Krex. I run the Shadow Chaser out of Deralia, and a few other non-descript ports here and there.”

 

Carth eyed him over, and then exchanged a long look with Canderous. “Carth,” he said, finally shaking the man’s hand. “And this is Canderous, Jolee, Juhani, Mission, and….”

 

“Zalbaar,” said Krex, nodding. “Heard of him already.” He looked at the Wookiee with deep admiration. “You’re the talk of the complex, big fella!”

 

Zalbaar uttered an inquiring grunt.

 

“Oh, no! Not bad at all!” Krex answered, apparently understanding Wookiee. “It’s just that not many people have ever seen a Wookiee in these parts. ‘Ceptin me, maybe. Then again, I tend to circulate in bigger circles, if you catch my meanin.’” He tapped a finger along side his nose.

 

“A smuggler, eh?” Canderous grinned reminiscently. “Shadow Chaser. Now I remember you. You were the one who ran through our blockade when we were last here.”

 

Krex grinned widely. “Why, I didn’t know I was so famous! Imagine that. Me. Gilt Krex. Known by name among the Mandalorians.” He paused in consideration. “I’ll have to add that to my résumé.” He snuffled, then wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “So, what are you in for?”

 

“In for?” Carth frowned. “You sound like you’re saying we’re in a….”

 

“Prison?” Krex looked over his shoulder, and lowered his voice. “Hey, if you don’t have a Class Six pass, that’s exactly what it is. Very nice though, as far as prisons go.” He paused. “Erm…so I’m told,” he added, with a sly grin.

 

“We’re just waiting for our friends,” Mission blurted. “They’re meeting with a Prefect.”

 

“Not Keel, I hope,” Krex said, guardedly. “He’s a right…” He paused, noticing the sudden look of worry on Mission’s face. “Ah. So it is Keel. Sorry ‘bout that, miss. I mean, sorry for your friends.”

 

“Sorry? What do you mean by that, exactly,” Carth asked. Already this guy was making his skin crawl. Jolee and Juhani had been rather quiet, and if his skin was crawling, Carth supposed that their ‘Jedi Sense’ had to be at least tingling with the same sort of wariness.

 

“’Xactly? Well, I ain’t much for ‘’xactlys.’ But I can tell you that he and his lackey Berland, are as sneaky as an Ichtorian Attack Stohl wrapped around a rich Corellian lady’s neck.”

 

“You know Berland?” said Carth.

 

Krex snorted. “Know him? Heck, I worked for him for a while! Erm…a brief while, granted. That Sith’s too slimy for even my tastes. In fact, I suspect he’s the reason why my Class Six pass is no longer ‘valid.’ A ‘glitch’ in the system, so I’ve been told. Should be resolved in, oh, I don’t know, six months or so,” he sneered. “Yeah, a real smooth ‘glitch’ that Berland is.”

 

“So, why does Berland not want you to leave?” Juhani asked. “I was under the impression that the Jantessans do not care for ‘outlanders’.”

 

Krex snorted with amusement. “’Don’t care for?’ My aren’t you the polite one!” He let out a chuckle. “They downright despise us. ‘Ceptin,’ of course, for Berland. They seem to like him and his apprentice a great deal.”

 

“Apprentice? You mean Ithra?” Jolee asked, suddenly interested.

 

“Ithra? Nah! She’s a Prime Keeper, in case you didn’t notice.” He nodded over to the holovid newscaster in the corner. Ithra’s picture was being shown as an insert as the newscaster reported her safe return to Jantessa. “Nah. I was talking about….” Krex suddenly paused, and a glint twinkled in his beady eyes. “Say,” he said conspiratorially, “maybe you and me can like help each other out, you know? If you can somehow finagle me a valid Class Six so I can get out of here, I’ll tell you who Berland’s apprentice is. I know a lot about what goes on here on Jantessa.” Again, he laid a finger on the side of his nose. “You could say eavesdropping is a little hobby of mine.”

 

Mission was about to blurt something again, but Carth cautioned her just in time by holding up his hand. “Maybe. We’ll think about it, okay? Right now, we’re just worried about our friends.”

 

Krex held up his hands in surrender. “All right, all right,” he said. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He turned to leave. “But I’ve been trading here for, oh, let’s see…too many years for me to count. If’n you ever need information about something, anything, just come see me and we’ll work something out. I’m usually at the gaming tables on Level Four. That’s where most of us ‘real’ folk hang out. Less security cameras down there.” He grinned broadly. “Or so I am told.”

 

As the group watched Krex leave, Jolee said, “Well, that was interesting.”

 

“Oh, so you thought he was lying, too, huh?” said Carth.

 

“No,” said Jolee. “In fact, just the opposite. I think he could be a great help to us.”

 

“I also felt that he was being truthful,” said Juhani. “Perhaps, we should consider helping him. His knowledge of Jantessa might be of use to us in finding the relic.”

 

“I agree,” said Canderous. “He’s a smuggler, granted, but he must have some credit with the locals, or he wouldn’t be allowed here in the first place. I wouldn’t write him off just yet.”

 

“Okay,” Carth conceded. “Let’s split up and see what we can find out about this place. We’ve got T3. Maybe we can find someway to forge one of those passes.” He checked his chronometer. “Let’s meet back here in an hour. With any luck, we might be able to get out of here and find out what happened to Rade and Bastila.”

 

And inside, Carth hoped that Rade and Bastila were faring better than they were.

[The Doctor]

About time! Nice chapter, Jas!

[Hallucination]

Good job, keep it up !

[Renegade Puma]

Great Chapter Jasra. You have a very nice story going on here Can't wait for the next chapter.

[JasraLantill]

“What?! Aw, you can’t be serious!” Rade complained to Prefect Keel sitting stoically behind his desk. “A trial? But we only just arrived! We haven’t had any time to have violated any laws yet!”

 

Rade, Bastila, and HK had been escorted by Berland and Ithra from the Visitors’ Lounge to a waiting chamber outside of Prefect Keel’s office. Ithra had then excused herself to return to The Haven for some rest. After an hour wait, a silvery protocol droid came out of the Prefect’s office and called for Berland to enter alone. Another hour later, Rade, Bastila and HK were invited in as well—to officially register Bastila as Rade’s arbiter for his trial.

 

“No?” Prefect Keel let his eyes wander down to the datapad in his hands. “Let’s see. Assault against a Jantessan envoy…?” He looked at Berland.

 

On cue, Berland rubbed his elbow.

 

“Veering from the prescribed vector on approach through our shield corridor?” Prefect Keel continued. “Importation of restricted off-world produce? Importation of exotic wildlife?” At this, Prefect Keel looked up. “Without, I might add, an import license or any health certifications from any planet,” he added sharply.

 

“Produce? Exotic wildlife?” Bastila said, exchanging looks with Rade. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Zorgang nuts are foreign produce, are they not?” said Keel. “And Berland reports that you have one Wookiee and one Cathar on board.” He paused a beat. “Although, he did also mention that Master Chano likes to treat them as crew.” He sighed. “But I understand how some people can grow quite attached to their pets.”

 

“Juhani and Zalbaar are not pets!” Rade protested.

 

“Statement: Yes, master,” HK confirmed. “They are meatbags, like all organics. Query: Master, I cannot help but notice that this particular meatbag is irritating you. Would you like me to eliminate him?”

 

“HK, please…” Rade pleaded. “Not now.”

 

“Disappointed Reply: *sigh* As you wish, master.”

 

“Meatbags? Elimination?” said Prefect Keel with mild interest. He looked down at the datapad again, and added something to it. “I suppose now I will have to add ‘possession of a droid with illegal protocol modifications’ to the list. And there are still the charges relating to your ‘previous’ visit to our fair world.” He clicked a button on the datapad a few times. “Charges too numerous that I have neither the time nor the inclination to mention.”

 

“This is preposterous!” said Bastila. “You can hardly charge Rade with anything prior to his arrival today. The Jedi Council specifically sent him here at your people’s request. To help you with your Senatorial trainee, not to mention finding this missing relic of yours. And as a diplomatic envoy himself, he should be exempt from being charged with anything in the first place!”

 

Prefect Keel took a moment to consider. “So, Master Chano denies these charges?”

 

Rade opened his mouth to speak, but Bastila elbowed him in the side. “He certainly does,” she said for him. “Most vehemently.”

 

“I see.” Prefect Keel calmly rose from his desk. “Very well, my dear,” he said, slowly appraising Bastila's form. “I look forward to you presenting his defence to the court.” He turned to his protocol droid assistant. “When is the next available date on the docket?”

 

His protocol droid clicked as it calculated. “At 1800 hours, my lord Prefect. Forty-two standard days from today.”

 

“Forty-two days?” Rade said incredulously. “I’m not staying here for forty-two days. And how am I expected to find this ‘relic’ of yours if I’m being held over for trial?”

 

“Ah, yes. The Aylah’han Gem.” Prefect Keel paced behind his desk and stood with his back to them as he stared out the window. “Berland tells me that Keeper Ithra was most forthcoming about its…potential uses. Uses that the Jedi may not approve of.”

 

Rade exchanged a quick look with Bastila.

 

“How do we know if you will return it to us once you have found it?”

 

Rade cleared his throat. “Because you have the promise of the Jedi Council and my word as a Jedi Knight.”

 

“Your word?” Prefect Keel turned. His face was quiet and calm, without a hint of emotion, but his voice was sharp and accusatory. “You gave us ‘your word as a Jedi’ before as Lord Revan. A word you did not keep, I might add.”

 

“He is not the same person now,” Bastila said defensively. “He is not Lord Revan.”

 

“So you keep insisting,” said Prefect Keel. He picked up the datapad. “Although, Berland’s report indicates….”

 

“Berland’s a Sith,” Rade interrupted. “You can hardly take his word over a Jedi’s.”

 

“Former Sith,” Berland corrected. “I serve the Jantessans now, remember?”

 

“This is pointless,” said Bastila. “Prefect Keel, we came here to help you,” she said, trying to use her Jedi power of persuasion on him. “If you do not want the Jedi Council’s assistance, then let us depart and we will leave you to your own affairs.”

 

Keel raised an eyebrow. “Since Lord Revan’s visit, we have learned how not to be susceptible to any Force tricks or persuasions. Jedi or no, you will not depart without my permission,” he added icily.

 

“Perhaps some insurance would be in order, my lord,” suggested Berland. “If you were to hold, say, the Wookiee and the Cathar while he looked for the Gem, he would have no choice but to return it to us in exchange for their release. After all, obtaining the required permits for their release from quarrantine should take…well, a week at least.”

 

“No one’s holding anyone hostage,” Rade stated to Keel. “I’m not leaving my crew behind. If you want the Gem, you release us. All of us.”

 

Prefect Keel appreciatively eyed Bastila over again. “Perhaps then just you, Bastila, should stay behind. I could ‘help’ you prepare for your client’s case. Or your own, if for some reason he doesn’t return for you."

 

“An excellent suggestion, my lord,” Berland said to Keel.

 

“What?” Bastila said, sounding very offended.

 

Rade again opened his mouth to protest on her behalf, but Bastila halted him, and then whispered something in his ear. Rade grinned, then nodded.

 

“We agree with Berland,” said Bastila. She grinned at Berland’s look of confusion, and Keel’s look of defeat. “It’s a fair compromise to allow the Wookiee and the Cathar to stay here while the rest of us look for the Gem. Agreed?"

 

"My lord," Berland started, "this is obviously a trick to get...."

 

Keel sighed. “Agreed,” he said with more than a hint of disappointment.

 

“Now,” Bastila said in a confident voice. “In order for us to find this Gem of yours, we will need access to your databases on….”

 

“Oh, I’m afraid that cannot be permitted,” Prefect Keel replied quickly. “Only those with a Class Eight control pass are allowed access to them. And unfortunately, you do not meet the criteria for me to issue one. Anyway, it won’t be necessary. There is someone who should already know the Gem’s location.”

 

Rade and Bastila exchanged looks.

 

“A trader by the name of Krex,” Berland said on cue. “We suspect that he knows exactly where the Gem is, although he has been… ’unwilling’ to give us that information through… 'conventional' measures.”

 

“Meaning what?” asked Rade. “That he’s immune to Sith mind invasion and torture?”

 

Berland stared at Rade deadpan. “Irritatingly so.”

 

“So where can we find this ‘Krex,’ asked Rade.

 

“Oh, he’s easy to find,” said Prefect Keel. “He’s being detained in the Visitors’ Lounge. A problem with his control pass, I believe?” he said, looking at Berland, who nodded in affirmation to his question. “I understand that a problem like that takes weeks, sometimes months, to resolve.”

 

“He’s here?” Rade said, then rolled his eyes.

 

“Your crew will probably have had some contact with him already,” said Prefect Keel. “He normally tries to ‘suss out’ all the new arrivals. Talk to him. Get him to tell you about the Gem’s location, and then find it and bring it back to us.”

 

“And why would Krex tell us when he wouldn’t tell you?” asked Bastila.

 

“Why wouldn’t he tell you?” asked Prefect Keel in return. “You’re an ‘outlander’. You’ve been charged with offences, and you have a dislike for Berland, and, I suspect myself as well now. And you’re Jedi. I’m sure you are resourceful enough to persuade him to tell you where the Gem is.” He pushed a button and the door opened. “My protocol droid will escort you back to your crew in the Visitors’ Lounge. When you have the information you need, just inform the droid that you would like to speak to me again. I’ll see to it that you are issued with the appropriate clearance passes.”

 

Rade, Bastila and HK were escorted back to the Visitors’ Lounge.

 

“So,” Prefect Keel said to Berland after the door had shut. “You are sure that Krex will tell them?”

 

“Oh, yes, my lord. Quite sure.” He grinned. “And when he does, we’ll merely follow them to the source, destroy the Ebon Hawk, and take the Gem back ourselves. The tracking device I placed on board their ship is well hidden.”

[Hallucination]

Another great chapter! It's so good, I got pissed off at the Jantessans . Keep up the great work!

[JasraLantill]

Well, I must be doing something right if you got pissed off with them. Thanks for the encouragement!

[Renegade Puma]

Great chapter once again Jasra. You always write everything out so well, and with such an easy flow. I don't like this Prefect Keel fellow. I think he needs to be "HK'ed" if you get my drift

[Renegade Puma]

Once again I have to say, GREAT JOB Jasra. I can't wait for your next chapter yet again.

[Vladimir-Vlada]

Pure talent. You are doing great.

[JasraLantill]

As Rade, Bastila and HK-47 entered through the door of the Visitors’ Lounge, they were met by Carth and the rest of the crew.

 

“Please tell me that they gave you a Class Six pass,” Carth said, just as the door closed behind Rade.

 

Rade gave his friend a weak smile. “Well, erm…”

 

Carth let out an exasperated groan. “We’ve been around this entire place, twice, looking for a way to get past their security. Not even T3 could break their codes! What do they want from us?!” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

 

“They want information from one of the detainees here,” said Bastila. “A trader called Krex. Once we get it, the Prefect will allow us to depart. Well, some of us can depart.”

 

Carth raised an eyebrow. “Some of us?”

 

Bastila glanced at Rade for support before breaking the bad news. “I’m afraid Juhani and Zalbaar will have to stay here for the moment.”

 

Zalbaar roared his disapproval.

 

“What?” Juhani said incredulously, her voice rising. “Stay here?”

 

“Now, Juhani, remember,” said Rade. “There is no emotion, there is….”

 

Juhani ignored Rade’s attempt to soothe her anger. “Forget the Jedi Code! I’m not staying here!”

 

“It’s just until we get back with the Gem,” said Bastila. “It was the only way we could avoid going to trial.”

 

“Trial! Trial for what?” Carth suddenly shook his head. “Nevermind. I don’t think I want to know.”

 

“The fact remains that Juhani and Zalbaar have to stay here,” said Bastila. “But,” she looked at each of them in turn, “that doesn’t mean that you two don’t have work to do.” She lowered her voice. “The Jantessans believe that you are ‘lesser’ beings.” She quickly held her hand up to stay any objections from either of them. “Which means they won’t be watching you that closely. We need you to gather as much information as you can about the Sith occupation here. It won’t be easy, but I think you two can handle it.”

 

Juhani exchanged looks with Zalbaar. “We’ll do our best,” she acquiesced.

 

“Good,” Rade said. “So, about this trader. Krex. We need to find him and talk to him.”

 

Carth and Canderous exchanged looks. “Erm…we’ve already met him,” Carth said hesitantly.

 

“Yeah, and we don’t like him,” Mission blurted. “He cheats.”

 

“Yes, he’s dishonest, and not very pleasant,” Juhani disdainfully agreed.

 

“Cheats?” asked Rade, confused at what they were basing their opinions on.

 

“He beat her at cards,” Canderous explained. He grinned. “Five times.”

 

“Like I said, he cheats,” Mission retorted, sulkily crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Oh, c’mon, he’s not that bad,” Jolee chimed. “I mean, sure he’s a bit shady, but if he’s been trading with Jantessa for all the years he’s claimed, he’d have to be. And he did warn you that he played a mean game before you started,” he reminded Mission.

 

“Mean is one thing. Cheating is another. I don’t like him,” Mission said. “And neither does Big Z. Right?”

 

Zalbaar gave a half-hearted grunt, indicating that he wasn’t really bothered one way or the other.

 

“Query: If this meatbag is so disliked by your crew, Master,” HK-47 said, “would it not be order to torture him in the process of our interrogation? After all, keeping up crew morale is very important.”

 

Rade gave HK a deadpan look. “Maybe later,” he said dismissively. “Now, where can we find this Krex?” he asked Carth.

 

“Yes,” said Bastila, “the sooner we talk to him, the sooner we can…”

 

“Statement: The sooner we can torture him!” HK gleefully interrupted Bastila.

 

Bastila glared at the rusty red droid. “The sooner we can leave,” Bastila finished icily. “Rade, you really have to do something about that droid,” Bastila said under-her-breath.

 

“Krex is in the gaming parlour,” said Mission, pointing the way. “Level four. You can’t miss him. He’s the one with the pile of Republic credit chips in front of him. My credit chips,” she added with a brooding scowl.

 

Leaving HK-47 behind with the rest of the crew, Rade and Bastila made their way to the gaming parlour. Krex was indeed easy to find with his telltale pile of Republic credits in stacked in front of him, but he made it a point to wave them over to join him.

 

“More newcomers!” he said gleefully, sounding a bit inebriated. “This day is just getting better and better!” He cleared away some empty shot glasses on the table, then motioned for them to sit. “It’s getting harder to find people to play with me,” he told them. “Been here so long that most folks are getting’ wise…erm, I mean, tired of me,” he corrected himself. “You play?” he asked Rade, appraising him with his eyes.

 

“When I get the chance,” said Rade. “Although, I have to admit, it’s been a while. I’m a bit rusty.”

 

Krex grinned knowingly. “And a bit modest, too, I reckon?” Nevertheless, he began to shuffle the cards. “And what about you, miss?” he said to Bastila. “Care for a quick hand?”

 

“No, thank you,” she said curtly.

 

Rade leaned in closer to Krex. “She doesn’t really approve of gambling,” he said in a hushed, conspiring tone.

 

Krex grunted and rubbed his scraggly beard. “Thought so,” he replied back to Rade. “Could see it in her eyes. And the way her face scrunched up like a kinrath pup when she walked in.” He snorted. “Must be a wife thing. My ex used to be the same way.”

 

Bastila’s mouth dropped, but before she could utter a word in reply, Rade lightly kicked her shin under the table. “Oh, sorry, dear,” he apologised. “Didn’t mean to do that. Just getting comfortable. Say, honey, why don’t you go and get us some drinks?” He looked at Krex. “What’s your poison, erm…?”

 

Krex grinned broadly. “Krex,” he introduced himself. “Gilt Krex. Run the Shadow Chaser out of Deralia.” He turned to Bastila. “Cassandran Brandy, if’n you please, ma’am. Expensive, I know, but everythin’s free for us ‘visitors’ here.” He leaned in closer to Rade. “The Jantessans like to keep us happy, you see. Less trouble that way.”

 

Rade nodded knowingly. “Rade Chano,” he introduced himself to Krex. “And…”

 

“Tila,” Bastila said, not knowing if the trader had heard of her real name through rumours.

 

“Nice to make your acquaintance. Seven’s wild?” Krex asked, tapping the deck on the table.

 

“Fine.” Rade nodded for Bastila to get them the drinks. Reluctantly, she got up and headed towards the bar. “So, how long have you been here?” Rade asked Krex.

 

“Couple of months.” Krex began to deal out the cards. “Twenty credit ante?”

 

“Sure, why not,” Rade replied, slouching in his chair to get more comfortable. He tossed a credit chip casually on the table. “Why so long?”

 

Krex sighed as he stacked the draw pile on the table and picked up his cards. “Well, you see, that’s a long story.”

 

“I’ve got time,” said Rade. “Berland tells me that sorting out quarantine and import permits could take a while.”

 

“Berland?!” Krex’s expression turned dark. “That durned chuff-sucking leech,” he growled. “He’s the reason why I’m here.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Think’s he’s so smart,” Krex sneered as he looked through his cards. “That Sith is slimier than a Lylek dung-grubber.”

 

“You mean ‘former’ Sith, don’t you?”

 

“’Former’?” Krex snorted. “Is that what he told you?” He looked over his shoulders, checking to see who was in earshot. “Sith got apprentices, don’t they?”

 

Rade mimicked Krex, looking over his shoulder. Bastila was still at the bar. “So, I’ve been told,” he replied quietly.

 

“Well, he’s got one.” Krex paused, as he laid down a card and drew one from the pile.

 

“Keel?”

 

Krex raised an eyebrow. “A Prefect?” He snorted. “Nah. None of the Prefects got what it takes. He’s got another one. A boy. Well, suppose he’s a young man now. Seen Berland training ‘im down at the Haven once. That was pretty much the last time I was allowed down there.”

 

“The Haven? That’s where the Keepers live, right? The Jantessans actually allowed you to go there?”

 

“Sure,” Krex said. “Been trading here for years. Used to be pretty friendly with ‘em. You know about the Keepers?”

 

“Heard of them, yes,” Rade replied. “Can’t say I’ve seen many of them though.”

 

“Well, you wouldn’t, now, would you? Most of ‘em were wiped out when the Sith invaded. Damn shame that. Things were a lot better here then.” He grinned reminiscently. “Still a lot of rules, but folk were a lot more accommodatin’ when the Keepers were runnin’ things.”

 

“I thought the Prefects ran things,” Rade asked, throwing down one of his cards.

 

“Ah, that’s what you’re meant to think,” said Krex, laying a finger to his nose. “But that wasn’t the case. The Prefects upheld the laws, but the Keepers ran things. Kept everyone runnin’ on the same track, so to speak. Not all this arguin’ and strugglin’ for power like they do now.” He grimaced as he drew his next card.

 

“How come they don’t do that now?” Rade asked.

 

“Well, there was this massacre, see,” said Krex. “Those that were left were inexperienced. Novices, mostly. The others…,” He paused for a moment. “Well, the few that survived were sent for ‘re-education’ in that place they call the Foundery,” he said somewhat bitterly.

 

“You seem to know a lot about the Keepers,” Rade said casually.

 

“Well, I was friends with one,” Krex said. “Unusual, I know, but me and her just seemed to hit it off. Just friends though,” he clarified. “She was a bit of a rebel among the Keepers. Always curious about travellin’ to other planets. One day, she approached me while I was unloadin’ some carbonite filtration systems, and we got to talkin’ and well…before I knew it, we were sort of… well, friends. Think it got her in some trouble with her elders back then, being as I was an outlander and all, but she somehow managed to get out of it somehow! I’d tell her about the planets I visited, and she’d tell me the stories and lore of the Keepers…” His voice trailed off, and he started to frown as if he was remembering something unpleasant.

 

Rade noticed Bastila approaching. He hoped that Krex wouldn’t clam up when she arrived. “What happened to her? Your friend?” Rade asked softly. “Was she killed in the massacre?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, no, no. She wasn’t killed,” Krex said. “She…”

 

Bastila returned with the drinks and passed them out. She sat down next to Rade. “Don’t mind me,” she said to Krex, waving him on with her hand. “Please, continue.”

 

Krex gave her a suspicious sort of look. “Your turn,” he said to Rade.

 

Rade played his last card, but at the same time, he used a small amount of Force Persuasion in an attempt to keep the conversation flowing, even though Berland had said that Krex was resistant to any Force mind manipulation. “Twenty.”

 

Krex grinned. “So it is.” He played his last one. “Twenty for me as well. Looks like we’re at an impass.”

 

“Looks like it. Another hand?”

 

Krex nodded and began to shuffle the cards. Rade sighed slightly, and gave Bastila a defeatist glance.

 

“You know, you’re more subtle than Berland is,” Krex said unexpectedly. His eyes flicked over Rade, then Bastila. “But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t delve any deeper into my mind. Gives me a headache.”

 

Bastila admonished Rade with her eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rade apologised to Krex. “I only meant to…”

 

“I know what you meant,” Krex said, dealing the cards. “You’re Jedi?”

 

Rade nodded.

 

Krex nodded as well, thinking. “You’re with the Twi’lek girl?”

 

Rade nodded.

 

“I didn’t cheat her,” he said. “Only I’ve been playin’ with this deck for so long, I know each and every card in it.” He grinned slightly. “Your friend was sayin’ that you’re looking for somethin’? A rare… Gem?”

 

“Yes,” Bastila said a bit too earnestly. “We’re looking for…

 

Rade stayed her by laying a hand on her shoulder. “Do you know where we can start looking for it?”

 

“I know,” said Krex. “Question is, will I tell you?” He paused, taking a moment to survey the cards he held. “More’s the question of what you plan to do with it if’n you find it?”

 

“We’re supposed to give it back to the Jantessans,” Rade said.

 

“Ah. Supposed. Interestin’ choice of words that.”

 

“Interesting, but apt,” replied Rade. “You have a better idea?”

 

Krex grinned. “Tell ‘ya what,” he began. “I’ll tell you what I told your friends. You get me out of here, and I’ll give you co-ordinates and a name. You seem like a capable sort. And if’n you’re worthy enough, you’ll find what you’re lookin’ for.”

 

“I can do that,” said Rade.

 

“Well, then,” said Krex. “Let’s finish our game and our drinks and blow this joint.”

 

~~~~~~~~

 

“Rade, how do you know that we can trust him?” said Carth, as he and the remainder of the crew of the Ebon Hawk boarded the ship to leave Jantessa.

 

“I don’t trust him,” said Rade. “But we have little choice. Keel’s a Prefect, and he’s got Zalbaar and Juhani as hostages.”

 

“I meant Krex,” said Carth.

 

“Oh. I trust him well enough,” said Rade. “He’ll hold up his end of the agreement.”

 

“Yeah, but how do you know he will? Once his ship clears Jantessan space he could just…” Carth paused. “Oh. It’s a Jedi thing, isn’t it?”

 

“Yup. But Krex has got another reason besides just a hatred of Berland for helping us,” he explained. Rade thought about Krex’s story about his Keeper friend. He had said she hadn’t been killed, but he hadn’t said what had happened to her. He wondered if she was one of the ones being held in the Foundery, and if Krex thought finding the Gem would somehow help her.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

The Ebon Hawk took off without incident, and left Jantessa, leaving Juhani and Zalbaar behind to investigate the Sith’s occupation.

 

“I can’t help feeling that something is wrong,” Bastila said to Rade as they passed through the shield barrier. “The ship…it doesn’t feel right. You think Berland has tagged it?”

 

“Would be surprised if he didn’t,” said Rade, peering over her shoulder at the sensors. “There. The Shadow Chaser. Hail her.”

 

Bastila did, and pretty soon, Gilt Krex’s gravelly voice sounded over the comm. “Thanks for your help, Jedi,” he said. “Feels good to be back in space!”

 

“Glad we could help each other out,” Rade said. “Now about those co-ordinates?”

 

Krex chuckled. “I’m sendin' them to you now. But we agreed to a name, too, didn’t we?”

 

“Yes, we did,” said Rade. “And from what my pilot tells me, you agreed to give him a name as well. The name of Berland’s apprentice.”

 

“So, I did. So I did,” Krex replied slowly. “But now that really isn’t fair, me givin’ you more than one name in exchange for only one pass. Tell ‘ya what. I’ll give you a first name of one and the last name of the other, but you decide which half you want of each. Deal?”

 

Carth gave Rade a sideways look. “Trust him, do you?” he scoffed.

 

Rade thought a moment. “Deal,” he said. “First name of the apprentice.”

 

“Deren,” Krex replied. “And the other name you want is Co’Vanni.” He chuckled. “That’s all I can give you. Like I said, if’n you’re worthy, you’ll find what you’re lookin’ for.”

 

And with that, the Shadow Chaser shot off into hyperspace.

 

“Let’s see those co-ordinates,” Rade said to Bastila.

 

She deftly tapped a few buttons and the planet they led to popped up on the Galaxy Map. “Degos V,” she said. “It’s a mining colony, just in the next system. We can make it there in a few hours.”

 

An alarm sounded from a panel in front of Carth. “Oh, great!” he sneered. “Damn stabiliser again!” He punched a few buttons and the alarm went off. “We’re going to have to get that thing fixed. Soon,” he added adamantly.

 

“Can we make it to Degos V?” Rade asked.

 

“Think so.”

 

“Good. We’ll do repairs there.” Rade stretched his hands over his head. “I’m getting some rest in the meantime.”

 

Rade shot a look at Bastila, hoping that she might join him after she finished plotting their course.

 

He sat down on the bunk in his dormitory. It had been a long day. He laid down, and closed his eyes, waiting for Bastila to come to him.

 

“Rade?” a female voice said softly.

 

Rade grinned, and opened his eyes to see… “Ithra?!”