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Bastila Shan - An Autobiography

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1 Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Jun 29, 2015 11:14 pm

Entry One

I, Bastila Shan, was seven years old when Jedi Knight Vox Aben arrived on Talravin.

The night before, I lay in bed and listened to my parents bicker in the next room. They both said "her training" and "her future" more than once. Their emotions seeped through the walls and flowed into my chest. Father felt sad and angry. Mother was frustrated at father, but more powerful was her hopefulness. I could separate the emotions, feel one at time with full capacity, even though the reasons behind them escaped me.

The argument faded. I stared at the ceiling, confused at the experience. My empathy for others had been intensifying over the past year and that night was the strongest my visceral feelings had been up until that point.

Father quietly entered my bedroom. Sometimes he came to soothe me when he and mother's arguments became too heated.

I sat up and stretched my arms wide.

He sat down on the bed and hugged me. I felt his anguish, then felt his tears on my cheek. He apologized over and over again. I asked him what he had to be so sorry about.

He rocked me back and forth. "You help the flowers in our garden grow, even in the frosty days. They're so beautiful."

"I know. Did someone smash all the flowers?"

"No, no. Tell me how you make them grow so well."

I shrugged. "I sit and send them pleasant thoughts, papa."

He explained to me, in his layman interpretation, the concept behind the Jedi Knights and their use of the Force. "They're heroes to the galaxy who use a magic, of sorts."

That sounded quite fascinating to my child ears. "What does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"Your mother believes you might be able to tap into this magic. She contacted a man who is on his way to see if that's true. And if you do have the potential, then he might take you away from us for a little while."

My stomach turned. I clung to my father and whimpered pleadingly.

"We'll see how the meeting goes," he whispered. I fell to sleep in his arms for the last time.

- - -

I rose from bed the next morning, put on my basic sleevless colonial wear, and tied my hair in pigtails. In the living area, mother sat in her arm-chair reading a datapad and sipping herbal tea. On my way to the kitchen I glanced back to see that she was looking at holo-pics of excavation sites.

I found fried meat slices and boiled eggs on the stove. We three seldom ate meals together. Mother was an early riser by nature, and father preferred to sleep until midday when he could get away with it. That morning, though, he was at the kitchen table. We smiled to each other.

I partook in my usual routine of eating a handful of food, gulping some juice, then discreetly sifting through the waste-bin beside the counter to look for scraps from last night's dinner. Father saw what I was doing and winked at me. Whenever mother would catch me at this, she would slap my hand and say, "How many times have I told you to stop feeding those diseased monsters?" I slipped the morsels into a bag and sneaked out the back door.

The countryside was a living portrait of plains and forests that stretched for leagues in all directions. I looked up that morning to see puffy clouds and long-winged birds. Restaw had an almost entirely human population. Lines of squat domed cottages spiraled out from the marketplace at the village center. We resided at the outskirts, thus every morning I took a long jog toward the organic food kiosks where the tooka strays congregated.  

"Morning, Basti!" A woman called as she handed a bulbous fruit to a customer. "Here to feed the cuties?" She had a tooka that liked to sit on her fruit piles and take playful swipes at people.

"Where is the cutie?" I asked.

"Ran off across the circle!" She answered.

An old man threw spice onto raw animal meat hanging from his stall. He looked at me and scowled as I passed. Where was the tooka that usually pestered the old man?

I made my way through the crowd. The closest villagers who recognized me either sent me looks of warning or smiled and patted me on the shoulder. For a child, I had quite the polarizing reputation in the area.

Every spot where I would stop to feed a stray was now conspicuously vacant. My concern mounted. And then I felt a calling inside. An order came to me in the form of feeling. My heart buzzed with an energy I had felt often in my seven years of life, in times when I needed to react quickly.

I followed the calling to the edge of the village center. . . and stopped. All the tookas were gathered around an alien dressed in a robe. The name of his race escaped me at that age, but I immediately noticed the pure black eyes pointed at me. Tentacles at his jawline writhed.

"These creatures are covered in compassion," he said in a gurgling deep voice. "Your doing?"

I was at a loss how to respond except to shrug.

The robed alien strode toward me and stopped within arm's reach. He gestured at the bag.

We knelt down and fed the tookas in silence.

People watched us, murmuring about the strange visitor and the behavior of the tookas.

"Your choices shall determine too much for my comfort," the alien said.

"You're here to see if I can become a Jedi?"

"Say farewell to your parents," he said. "Take nothing with you but the clothes you wear."

I stood up and stared incredulously at him for a few moments. "No digging tools? I'm sure I can dig up pretty rocks for the Jedi."

He insisted that I must leave my parents and possessions behind. I asked why my parents had to stay behind as well, fearing what madness the Jedi could possibly have in store for me. I told him we had our own starship, that we could meet him as a family wherever he wanted. But he remained stubborn.

I ran in the direction of home. Instinctively, I reached out with my feelings to attract the tookas, and in seconds they all ran with me.

Halfway there, I stopped and looked back toward the marketplace. The animals rubbed against my legs, pawed at my hands, and mewwed lovingly. Then I saw the tentacled man. He broke from the crowd and walked straight for me.

I pointed at the Jedi and acknowledged my tookas. "Attack him!"

And that triggered my first experience with Battle Meditation.



Last edited by Harrold Andraste on Fri Aug 28, 2015 10:00 pm; edited 2 times in total

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2 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Thu Jul 02, 2015 1:11 am

Wonderful first chapter. I don't really know what to comment on, it was fantastic. I do have some ideas for some of the characters if you will hear me out. Make this Vox Aben Bastila's master, and make their be an animosity between the two, make them grow as characters. Make Vox Aben this wise, but foolish master that fallows the light and only the light and hates the dark side. Have Vox Aben punish Bastila for even thinking of dark thoughts. Make us really feel for Bastila. Also another idea. Make Revan this background figure, people talk about him like he's some god, but we don't see him, we only hear about him. Bastila will take this knowledge with her when she comes after Revan, and this knowledge will push her to try to be better then him. These are just some ideas. I can't wait for the next chapter.

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3 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Thu Jul 02, 2015 9:06 pm

Thank you, Paradoxs! Those are definitely some intriguing ideas that I'll consider.

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4 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Thu Jul 02, 2015 9:07 pm

Entry Two



Most the animals jumped up onto their Jedi enemy and clung. A few on the ground raised up and shredded his robe leggings. He stumbled about while trying to pry an attacker from his face. If Jedi were heroes, I reasoned, then he would find a peaceful means to repel the felines.

I again ran for home. I shot up the sidewalk of the neighborhood and up a paved path leading to our back door. My feet brushed the flowers in our front garden and I was reminded how much of my time and energy I had spent nurturing them.

I entered the kitchen, slammed the door behind me, and snapped the lock. Father stood by the cupboards.

"Bastila, stay inside today." My mother entered from the living area. "We're expecting a visitor soon that I want you to meet."

"Already met him. He says I'm pretty, but a bad fit for the Jedi."

"That's the best news ever!" Father scooped me up under the arms and spun me around. I laughed with relief as he set me back down.

Mother crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze. "Were you a disrespectful brat toward him?"

There came a heavy knock on the back door.

I gasped and hid behind father.

Mother slid past us, opened the portal, and gasped. There were a few silent beats before she moved aside and motioned for the visitor to enter.

I made myself peek from behind my protector.

The Jedi was covered in tooka excrement and splotches of his own blood. His front heaved with deep, paced breaths. He trudged inside, boots thumping on the hard floor. An offensive odor filled the kitchen.

"Good day. I am ---" He paused as his face scrunched. He reached behind himself, pulled off a... baby tooka, and set it carefully on the floor. It purred, then bolted out the back.

Mother slammed the door harder than I had and went to stand beside father.

"I am Vox Aben, Jedi Knight." He looked down at me. "I give you my deepest gratitude, girl. My patience has not been so tested this cycle."

"Did she hurt you too badly?" Mother's posture drooped.

"I don't believe so." Vox stroked his chin tentacles. "I frightened the girl by accident in the marketplace. She wished to defend herself from a foreign stranger who was adamant about uprooting her from her present life."

Father pointed to a chair. "We can sit down to tea and biscuits while we talk this through."

Mother shook her head. "First things. Let me find you a change of clothes."

Vox nodded. "Wash my robes afterward, if you would."

- - -

We sat around the kitchen table. Vox was now dressed in a worker outfit, a tight and thick top with criss-crossed straps that attached the shoulders to a belt at the waist. The belt had four pouches at the front pockets of varying sizes clustered the pants.

I thought he looked rather amusing. But to the Jedi's credit, he did hold himself dignifiedly despite his humbling circumstances.

I pushed away my tea and biscuits in defiance of the hospitality being shown the Jedi. "He says I have to leave everything behind except the clothes I'm wearing." I looked to father for support, trying to give him my most innocent face. "Does that sound sane to you?"

Father sighed. "Sir Aben. How long did you say she has to be gone? And where will she be going? What will she be doing, exactly?"

"I've neither the desire nor time to give a detailed account of her future livelihood or training." Vox's tentacles parted as he raised the tea cup to his mouth and drank. "Give her to the Jedi. We promise to do all in our ability to help your daughter reach her potential as a Force-sensitive."

"Sounds agreeable so far." Mother nibbled on her biscuit.

"Your magic failed you out there." I sneered at Vox. "What kind of a Jedi lets himself be scratched up by a buncha little tookas?"

"One who has a sliver of his own compassion for such beasts," Vox said. The Jedi set his cup down and raised a webbed hand, twitching the fingers.

An invisible phantom came out to play. My cup slid back to me and began to slowly spin. And more, my parents' uneaten biscuits left their plates and formed a spinning circle in mid-air.

My parents and I were a transfixed audience. A few moments later, the cups and tea returned to their proper places.

I realized too late that I had smiled. I made myself frown. "You think I'm a twit who can be won over with fancy tricks? Try harder!"

"Watch your tongue, young lady." Mother reached over and tried to slap my hand. I pulled back in time. She continued, "This Jedi has traveled who knows how many light-years to give you a chance at greatness, and you're spitting in his face."

"I haven't actually spit in his face yet."

Father groaned. "Show a bit more respect, Bastila."

"You believe your parents can protect you from destiny?" Vox stood and walked around the table to my side. He sank to his knees, facing me, one arm on the back of my chair.

I sent him a look of warning and became physically rigid, ready to lash out with my own claws should he try anything harmful.

Vox assumed a tender voice. "Your parents have done all they can for you. Now I am here to help you through the next stage, but the transition requires that you leave and start anew. The Mind of the Force calls out to you. I swear that in time... every generation henceforth shall know your deeds, Bastila Shan."

Outside of my control, tears blurred my vision.

I blinked, sending the droplets down my cheeks as a heaviness blossomed in my throat.

- - -

Father and I shared a long embrace. He said that we would meet again someday, but even then I had my doubts.

Mother gave me a quick hug and tightened my pigtails. She said nothing.

Back in his shredded Jedi robes, Vox Aben led me away from the village, down a slope, and across the plains toward the forests. A breeze raised his cloak. I caught a glimpse of a metallic, cylindrical device attached to his belt.

I brushed by fingertips along blades of grass that puffed at the tops, caught flying insects in my hand then let them go, and focused on natural aromas. This might be the last time I was able to appreciate my home planet in person. I wondered if Vox would take me to planets so sensational and breathtaking that I forgot rustic Talravin.

"Why did you land way out there?"

"Long walks through nature help center the soul."

"What if there was an emergency and you needed to get back to your ship? You'd feel like a dork having to run so far." I planned to forever be as difficult as possible for him.

Vox huffed. "I already treated you to a superficial display of the Force, and I feel dirty for having done so. When the situation calls for it, I shall show you true running."

Not long after, we arrived at his starship in a forest clearing. It was two floors high and narrow compared to its length of thirty meters or so. There was a single but multi-barreled turret at the top. Through viewing ports I saw the cockpit, which took up all the front of the vessel. Vox, continuing to stride, reached into a pocket. A steep ramp lowered at starboard, a third the distance down the length from the bow.

"Did you name it?" I held back a few moments so his posterior wouldn't be in my face as we boarded.

"The ship? No."

We entered a small lounge where two people could comfortably sit at the short round table and eat. A compact conservator sat in the corner.

There were two tunnels leading off at either end of the lounge. I took the one to the left, leaving Vox where he stood.

"We should call it The Tooka!" I went down the tunnel and stopped when I reached an open portal to my right. Inside I found sleeping quarters with two beds bolted to opposite walls and corners, and a cramped restroom.

I traveled further down and stepped into an antechamber of the hyperdrive. A tank of bubbling blue water covered one wall, except the few feet near the top where there was a hatch.

"What is this for?"

The Jedi appeared behind me. "That tank is for my meditation. In case you haven't noticed, I am in fact an aquatic-based sentient. A quarren. I return every few days to the water to regain physical stamina."

I made a mental note to ask further questions on his unique race at another time.

We entered the cockpit. I took the co-pilot's seat and studied the buttons and switches on the control station. Vox powered up the engines. The ship levitated up until the trees were tiny and I could see the whole of Restaw. My heart ached. But I shook the feeling away and turned to look skyward as we launched through the upper atmosphere. We broke the layers of gas and entered space. It was abruptly night-time everywhere. . . stars by the millions twinkled their greetings to us.

"Coordinates uploaded to navicomp. Reaching lane point." The starlight grew intensely, swirled, and elongated. We zoomed into hyperspace. "We should reach Coruscant at 0200 hours."

I suddenly realized that I had next to nothing to do but wait to arrive. I got up from my seat and wandered around the ship to gain blood flow in my legs. But the interior was austere and almost claustrophobic. In the lounge, I crouched beside the conservator and opened it to find batches of cold vegetables and a water dispenser in the door. Other than that, there were a few plain containers. I opened them only to be assaulted by a stench of overly-strong seasoning. It was some sort of meat paste.

It wasn't long before I went back into the cockpit and stood beside the Jedi. "May we stop at a spaceport and buy a snack? I know a station that papa takes me to sometimes."

Vox flipped a switch. "I think not. Eat what's available in the conservator."

"It smells cruddy."

He leaned forward and examined a screen with a grid layout.

I repeatedly kicked the floor panel under me with the toe of my shoe. "Well, I need to use the loo."

"We have one. Use that."

"It's broken."

Vox took a deep breath and gurgled to himself in his native language. He sat straight as he rotated around to face me. "I'm almost certain that you're lying."

Fascinated, I watched his tentacles squirm. I wondered how strong were those appendages, and how sharp those fangs. But as I watched, the Jedi closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"Wait..."

"Vox? What's wrong?"

"We must come out of hyperspace. I sense. . . a cry for help."

The corridor of strange light disappeared and the stars returned once more. I hoped this meant we were going to stop at a starport for real food.

There was a rapid beeping sound. Vox pressed a button and activated a holo-image on the console before us. A semi-transparent upper quarter of a woman appeared from the projector. She was dressed in Jedi robes and had shoulder-length hair. Her face looked lovely to my jealous eyes, but distress etched her countenance. She began to speak, but static drowned out her voice as her image flickered wildly. Vox turned a few nobs and cleared the transmission enough to be understood.

"Priority message to all Jedi in the Stenness Node. This is Vima Sunrider on the planet Ambria, requesting immediate assistance."

I nestled up to the pilot's seat, watching and listening attentively.

"Myself along with several other Jedi attempted to consecrate the body of Jedi Master Thon on the surface of Ambria in the hopes of purging the planet's dark side aura. However, the act resulted in terrible storms raging across the planet's atmosphere. The storms have grounded our ship, making escape impossible. We're doing our best to hold them back, but the presence of the dark side is very strong. If there are any Jedi receiving this, please come now. I don't know how much longer we can hold out."

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5 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Fri Jul 03, 2015 4:07 pm

Again love the direction where this story is taking. I also love the nod to Vima Sunrider, since Bastila was suppose to be Vima. Am interested where this story is going with this dark aura on Ambria. Keep up the good work. I really don't have any ideas this time around.

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6 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Sun Jul 05, 2015 11:55 pm

Special shout out to Paradoxs!

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7 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Sun Jul 05, 2015 11:55 pm

Entry Three

"Let's go save them!" I bounced on the balls of my feet, excitement surging in my veins. A dot marked Ambria on a screen map of the sector, a more or less straight shot from our current location.

Vox Aben uploaded new coordinates. But the map now showed a different set of systems and their routes.

"Why are we taking the long way there?" I chewed my lip.

"We are going to Coruscant."

I blinked a few times. The shock of his words deflated the excitement. Frustration and disappointment exploded in my stomach. I tried to guess at some justification for abandoning the stranded Jedi. "By the time we gather more Jedi on Coruscant, that lady and her friends will be dead. We have to go back now."

"I agree that they shall die on Ambria," Vox said. "The Council ordered me to safely transport you from Talravin to Coruscant."

"I thought the Jedi were heroes!" My voice echoed shrilly in the cockpit. "How can you call yourself a hero if you leave your own kind to die horribly?"

Vox whirled on me and got to his feet in the same motion.

I flinched and stepped backward, shocked at how quickly he had become a scary, towering figure.

"Your emotions, girl. Keep them in check." He lowered to his knees in front of me, much the same as he had back in Restaw. He tried to put his hands on my shoulders.

I pushed them away and snapped my teeth at him.

"You walk a dangerous path for one so young. I sense the Dark Side pulsating from the planet Ambria, all those light-years away. Powerful, painful. But your anger with me pierced through those energies, like how Vima Sunrider's transmission carried past the ion storm to reach us here."

"I hate you." I made fists. His incomprehensible ramblings angered me almost to the degree of his cowardice. "And I'll hate you more if you leave those other Jedi behind."

Vox heaved a watery sigh and covered his eyes with his palms. "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there peace."

We diverted course for Ambria, set to arrive in less than an hour.

- - -

Our ship came out of hyperspace above the beige round rock where lightning-shocked clouds boiled and coalesced like the birthing of a gaseous monster. Vox allowed residual momentum to carry our vessel ever closer to the flashing orb. He pulled back a lever and accelerated us to likely doom.

My blood went cold and my breathing quickened as I stared out the front viewport. Hate radiated from Ambria. It wasn't just a planet. It wanted me and everyone in the galaxy dead. It was a nexus of pure evil.

"Take a deep breath through your nose that lasts for six seconds," Vox said.

My legs wobbled. I yelped, sank to the floor, and drew in a breath. One, two, three. . .

The ship jolted. Its artificial light sources flickered and died out to leave us in darkness, save for the strobe effect of lightning through the viewport. Four. . . five. . . six. . .

"Hold it for four seconds."

Alarms blasted that immediately hurt my eardrums. Sparks showered from the navicomputer to the deck near my legs.

I covered my mouth, holding in my breath that wanted to escape as a scream. I scurried away from the spot, glancing up to Vox and finding him dutifully at work on buttons, knobs, and levers.

"Exhale for five seconds. Repeat the pattern. Fill your mind with the thought of these precious seconds of life-giving breath."

I held onto the co-pilot's chair and closed my eyes, repeating the pattern. We rocked back and forth, thunder boomed throughout the ship interior, lights of all sizes and intensities appeared behind my eyelids, but I kept breathing while counting the seconds.

By miraculous good luck and Vox Aben's Force-inspired piloting skills. . . we landed. I climbed to my feet, panting with exhilaration, and threw myself onto Vox's lap. I gave him the kind of warm embrace I would have shared with father. "We made it!"

"Our success will matter little if you squeeze me to death."

I sat in his lap and looked out at Ambrian surface to see an ugly barren landscape illuminated by constant fingers of lightning. Gnarled rock formations stood like strange tree-trunks, some so tall their tips disappeared in the wicked sky. Leagues away, tornadoes joined the storm to the ground, creating fountains of dust and rock at their bases.

"This is where my training begins?" I tried to suppress my mounting anxiety. I abruptly wanted to stay on the ship and felt a fool for ever suggesting we land in such a nightmarish location.

Vox nudged me from his lap. "Stay on board and practice the meditation I taught you. I'm going to search for Vima." He rose and made to exit the cockpit.

I grabbed his sleeve. "What if you don't come back?"

He stopped and gazed down at me, quarren expression difficult for me to decipher.

I focused in on his emotions. He must have felt my telepathic prodding, because his abstract locks opened and I felt beyond the usual deep empathy. Single-mindedness for his mission streamlined his thoughts and solid determination burned in his heart. His was a remarkable willpower.

I decided to keep my arguments, respecting his intent to save the Jedi.

Vox pulled away and left down the corridor. The ramp hissed open, there was a tumultuous chorus of wind, then I was left alone in relative silence.

My palms sweat. I took a cup from the top of the conservator and poured some water, drinking it slowly with my eyes closed, trying to pretend I was somewhere normal and calm.

I wandered into the crew quarters, lay down on a bed, and took paced breaths, glad that the ship hull muted most outside sounds. Or else I might hear the tornadoes ripping across the land. Were any drawing closer to my position? Would the ship stay anchored to the ground against those crazy gusts? Surely Vox would rush back and save me if he thought the storm was endangering me. I tried many times to keep my mind on my breath and counting, but racing thoughts broke through the calm and I finally surrendered to them, finding myself alert and quite worried.

BRAM! Something collided against the ship.

Adrenaline shocked me into even fuller alertness.

A second more powerful hit threw me off the bed. I landed on the deck, smacking my elbow. Brain chemicals dulled the pain... for now.

I crawled out of the quarters and clambered to my feet.

Another collision sent me head-first for the closest bulkhead. I managed to move my body so that my shoulder took the impact.

I ran for the cockpit. I had to somehow find out what was going on. When I was almost there, a side of the corridor in front of me buckled.

I halted. A good fraction of the bulkhead from deck to ceiling jutted out, blocking my way. Metal plating, sparking wires, and squirming tubes protruded out a foot from the very tip of my nose. I looked to find there was a space underneath the mess. I dropped to my belly and crawled forward, feeling rather like a lizard whose home was being attacked by a giant.

A sliver of metal caught me on the lower back.

I paused, reached back with a dainty hand, and tried to work the metal loose or move the affected flesh of my back carefully from the sharp thing.

A smell of burning fabric reached my nostrils. A single point on my leg stung.

I yelled out. Embers were showering from the wrecked hull innards and burning through my pants. On the verge of panic, I freed my skin of the sharp metal without cutting myself too badly, crawled out of the mess at last, then stood and looked ahead.

A bulky reptile waited at the front of the ship. It was the largest creature I had ever seen, slightly taller than the ship and nearly as wide. It pointed its scaly face in my direction once I appeared at the cockpit threshold. Saliva dripped from its fangs and pulled-back lips.

I backed up a few steps, stunned.

The front viewport was shattered, fragments littering the deck. Sheets of rain soaked the lands outside, threatening to flood my all but ruined shelter. Stirred with sounds of the storm, there were sizzling noises behind me, meaning the way I had come was certainly too dangerous.


The day had darkened further to late evening.

If I attempted a jump out the open frame past the reptile and somehow bypassed becoming dinner. . . I would be at the weather's mercy.

The reptile snorted and stamped on the ground. It opened its mouth to reveal uneven fangs. A speck of light brightened over its forked tongue and grew into the size of a fruit. Electricity covered the bright ball.

I shielded by eyes with a hand, squinting. I knew I had to make some move soon, before this outlandishness claimed my life.

The ship lurched. I slammed into the portal frame. Roars carried over the storm outside and the crackling of the beast's upcoming assault. There was clearly more than one of these surrounding the ship.

I threw myself into the captain's chair which was facing away from the front.

The ball of light ejected at the opposite wall and exploded like a violent firework. Static scattered around the cockpit. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears as smoldering heat washed over my body. But the chair had kept me insulated from the worst.

A few seconds later I gripped the chair arms, lowered a foot to spin myself about, and kicked from the seat with all the strength in my legs. Arms stretched straight out, I dove over the console and through a gap in the viewport. I felt my enemy's rough hide as I scraped past him. My hands met the muddy ground and I did a front roll, breaking into a run.

I dodged rocks and leapt streams, my hopes set on finding some sort of shelter or place to climb. Heavy footfalls and roars trailed me all the while, making me aware that the predators were closing in.

I slipped on mud and fell to the ground. Pain stabbed my ankle. I must have twisted it wrong on my way down. My muscles were stretched, my adrenaline mostly spent, and waves of increasing exhaustion swept my body.

Rolling onto my back, I sat up and scanned for the impending threat. Two of the beasts had followed me. They were half a kilometer behind, side by side, galloping for their injured prey. Rain showered me as I sat pitifully on the ground. Freezing dread spread from my stomach to my limbs and soon I found my mind on the cusp of despair.

I screamed from the pain in my ankle, but hurriedly rose and jogged for the closest formation, looking for something to climb. I reached a rock seeming to have elevation enough to foil the attackers and slid my hand on the hard surface, searching for a hold.

"Bastila?" Called a woman's voice.

Was this a figment of my imagination? "Over here! I'm over here! Help me!" I found a crag with my hand, and one on which to set my foot, but when I tried to pull up my foot slipped. The slick surfaces and my pained ankle combined to make this an impossible task.

The two reptiles were nearer than ever. I leaned back on the tall rock and gave up the fight.
From the other side, many meters away where the rock bent out, appeared an adult human. Lightning flashed and for a moment the woman was illuminated as though she were in daylight. She shot past me, going for the reptiles, then I saw only the back of her flapping Jedi robes.

The beasts increased their speed.

She raised both hands out in front of her.

They went head-first into an invisible barrier. Their necks bent, their bodies crumpled, and they fell.

Telekinetic feedback knocked into Vima's front. She skidded backward in the mud, but kept her stance.

But the beasts got back up, huffing and growling. They opened their mouths and formed new energy spheres. The balls of light grew and grew.

Vima pushed her hands out at them.

The balls of electrical fury fired into their throats.

I saw hellish skeletons under crisped hides. And then it was over.

Vima turned and pulled her cloak closer around herself as she walked to me, head bent, damp strands of hair pasted to her weary face. The image seared itself into my mind; a hero in the elements, a spark of hope in a grim place.

She stopped in front of me and smiled. "Vox was concerned. He asked me to travel to the ship and check on you."

"Thank you for helping me," I said. "That was remarkable!"

Vima carried me on her back to a cozy cave a few kilometers away where she and her Jedi team had taken refuge. We found the three of them and Vox meditating cross-legged on the uneven stone floor, their backs straight and expressions grave. They each only opened their eyes to regard us for a moment before commencing. A fire burned at the center, its smoke drifting up to a hole in the ceiling. Vima set me down and quietly explained that Vox had encountered a possessed animal on the way there and injured his leg in the fight, but he had managed to bring a heavy rock down on his enemy, killing it.

The Force-sensitives were concentrating on driving back the Dark Side. With Vox added to the synergy, they were making slow but sure progress.

She gave me a bowl of water and a chunk of cooked meat. After I had finished those, I curled into a ball and drifted to sleep.

One standard day had passed since I heard my parents argue about my apprenticeship.

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8 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Jul 06, 2015 4:53 pm

First I would like to congratulate you with that kickass action scene with Bastila and Vima, it was very well written. I have trouble writing fight scenes, mostly because you can't have it be the same moves over and over again, because that will become boring really quick, and you just did an overall good job with the action. Am not going to lie I really felt for Bastila's character as she was trying not to be eaten by those lizard monsters. Make Bastila's journey into becoming a snudy jedi slowly in gulp her, until she becomes the Bastila we see in Kotor 1, which you are doing perfectly btw, keep doing that. 

I have a few more ideas. Make Bastila feel more unconformable with her abilities, so when we see her in Kotor 1, we then know there's been a huge change in her overall character. Show the dark side of the jedi order. Remember in this era the jedi are paranoid as fuck, because they just got off of a war with Exar Kun a couple of years ago, and now Revan and Malak are giving the jedi council lip, so go in depth into the inner workings of the Jedi.

Great work as always Smile

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9 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Wed Jul 08, 2015 2:11 pm

First I would like to congratulate you with that kickass action scene with Bastila and Vima, it was very well written. I have trouble writing fight scenes, mostly because you can't have it be the same moves over and over again, because that will become boring really quick, and you just did an overall good job with the action. Am not going to lie I really felt for Bastila's character as she was trying not to be eaten by those lizard monsters. Make Bastila's journey into becoming a snudy jedi slowly in gulp her, until she becomes the Bastila we see in Kotor 1, which you are doing perfectly btw, keep doing that.

Yaaay! ^_^

You'll see some of your earlier advice manifested in the next chapter, Paradoxs, dealing with Vox and his narrow views of the Dark Side.

I have a few more ideas. Make Bastila feel more unconformable with her abilities, so when we see her in Kotor 1, we then know there's been a huge change in her overall character. Show the dark side of the jedi order. Remember in this era the jedi are paranoid as fuck, because they just got off of a war with Exar Kun a couple of years ago, and now Revan and Malak are giving the jedi council lip, so go in depth into the inner workings of the Jedi.

We can delve into Jedi politics here and there. I don't think going to be a core source of external drama... just so's ya know.

Bastila would have to abuse those powers initially and hurt someone she respected in order for her to be uncomfortable with them while maturing as a person and Jedi. How do you recommend we go about that? Otherwise she'd go Force-crazy when she first started unlocking her potential!

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10 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Wed Jul 08, 2015 2:28 pm

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I moved the planet Talravin from the Core Worlds to the Inner Rim. It's a brief starship journey from Talravin to either Onderon or, far more hazardously: Ambria.

Official atlas sources give next to zero information on Talravin. It's only notable for being the birthplace of Basti. In other words... you're welcome to accept my new data as correct, and the older sources as bunk.

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11 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Wed Jul 08, 2015 4:00 pm

Ok, got it. Show Bastila getting overly confident in her skills with the force, and while training with Vox she gives into the dark side/ her own power, and injury's Vox horribly, maybe we can also have a trail were the jedi council feel that Bastila needs to learn more restraint. Just some ideas.

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12 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Tue Jul 14, 2015 4:47 pm

Thumbs up, Paradoxs!

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13 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Tue Jul 14, 2015 4:49 pm

Entry Four

A shard of Ambria already festered within my soul. The Dark Side is a malignent thing. Meditative treatments would push back the symptoms, but that wasting sickness gradually spread across my mind, body, and spirit in the coming years.

Revan and Malak each broke the last seals of my innocence in their own ways, but only because I permitted them.

"Your choices shall determine too much for my comfort," Vox Aben had said.

The phantoms of the Sith Lords wanted me as a child and they have stalked me ever since. They lurk in the corners of my room now as I lie dying. One final choice of significance may remain to me after recording this book.

- - -

I dreamt I floated in a nebula. Sometimes flashing clouds parted and I glimpsed legions of stars, but the rolling evil bloomed again and blocked those promises of hope. I swam through fog to emptiness, making little visible progress in covering the great spans. Faces appeared around me in the nebula, their skin wrinkled and cracked, their eyes exploding suns. Burning chunks of planets formed their crowns and lightning their garments. Somehow I knew them to be lords from ages long passed. . . somehow I knew they hated me, but wanted me.

I sat up and screamed.

Vima came over and cradled me while projecting sedate feelings. She said that she understood if I chose to stay awake, but wanted me to relax.

Our cave was damp and cold. The fire was all but dead, our light coming from its embers. The other Jedi continued to sit cross-legged meditating, more present in the spiritual realm than here.

I snuggled up to Vima to soak in her bodily warmth. "What's the Dark Side?"

When she spoke, her voice was tentative. "You could feel the concentrated hate out there, the desire to conquer and destroy. You encountered its mind inside your dreams. That's the Dark Side."

"I want to fight the evil." I was braver with her by my side. Perhaps we would work in such harmony that we put those Jedi over there to shame. "Show me how."

Vima let out a breezy chuckle. "The external darkness fights and destroys itself more often than not. A Jedi's hardest battle is against their own heart."

I leaned away to face her. "You aren't going to let me help, are you?" My tone came out more hostile than intended.

Our rapport strained, Vima's mouth closed into a tighter line than normal and she looked away.

"Is this child driving you mad yet?"

I jolted with surprise and looked over to see Vox limping toward us.

I sensed a subtle flicker of shame from Vima as she got to her feet. "No, no. She wants to help us, is all."

Following her into standing, I crossed my arms and waited for Vox's response.

The quarren stopped in front of us. "Remember the breathing meditation, Bastila. Leave us to our duties while paying mind to yours."

I rolled my eyes. "My duty is to fall back to sleep? It's so dull here. I wanna do something."

"What did I say earlier?" Vima placed her hand on my head, caressed my scalp with her nails. "Keeping after your heart is every bit as important as what the rest of us are doing."

My child intuition told me that they shared a secret between the two of them. They were so adamant I sit and do nothing while they fought the darkness. Eventually I conceded and sat back down.


I brooded for the next several hours.

Shortly after the wait had become a kind of emotional torture, the Jedi rose to their feet and began shaking hands and exchanging congratulations. That was the first I paid any real note to the young blonde woman who pecked a kiss on Vima's cheek. The pair went for the cave exit, smiling and whispering.

I walked to Vox.

The quarren's tentacles sagged when he turned to me. "Master Sunrider is going to test the transponder on her wrecked ship."

"Something's bothering you, Vox."

"Your personal thoughts, worse than your nightmares, were an extra hurdle for our concentration. I am disappointed in you."

That hurt.

We left the cave to find the morning sky darkly overcast. Ponds of rainwater dotted the terrain. Lightning had blasted apart and charred many of the trunk-like rocks, some still smoking.

I was glad I put on Vima's cloak. It was too large for my petite size and the tail dragged in the mud behind me. But the air was cold and the breeze colder, fast reddening my nose and cheeks.

Vox led me up a ridge and to a flat where a squat, battered starship waited. Vima and the blonde descended the ramp.

"A commercial starliner is detouring to the system," Vima said. "They'll dispatch a shuttle for us.

I became so overjoyed at the news that I let out an involuntary squeak. A soft, unfamiliar voice entered my surface thoughts: "At last. We waited centuries to be free of this wasteland." I blinked a few times, bewildered at how distinct and separate from myself it had been.

"We remain vigilant until they arrive." Vox leaned his weight on his good leg. "We purged a fair portion of the Dark Side from this area, but it is yet strong. I recommend we commence with our meditations in the cave."

"Look, Vox!" The blonde woman stepped over to in front of me and leaned down. "Isn't your apprentice adorable in Vima's cloak?" She fussed with the collar.

I thought she must resent Vox for almost killing the mood.

"Give it to her, Vima," the woman said. "Let her grow into it."

And I was going to resent her if she kept speaking of me as if I was an infant. I yanked the cloak from myself and threw it over the blond.

"Hey, where did the world go?"

I ran behind her and slapped her butt.

She gasped and threw off the cover.

I was already running.

We three girls laughed and played chase on the flat while Vox stood and muttered about his lot in life.

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14 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Tue Jul 14, 2015 4:50 pm

Kate Beckinsale is my dream casting for Bastila. If there was ever a KotOR remake on current gen consoles and PCs, modders could use her as a face model. It'd be the next best thing!

I even found some photos from her kid years.

http://36.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8x8663KkZ1rvksyro1_400.jpg

https://40.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8x873l8PO1rvksyro1_500.jpg

Give her pigtails and we're good to go!

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15 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Tue Jul 14, 2015 10:05 pm

Huge thumbs up! I love this story, and I agree with using Kate Beckinsale as a face model. One thing that really gets to me is Bastila's appearance in kotor 1 and 2. She's suppose to look like she's eighteen, but she looks way older then that. Anyway great work once again. I want you to hold onto this story, maybe someone would be interested in making this into a book, or a screen play, who knows. New ideas incoming, remember when I said don't show Revan just talk about him? Do that, however I also have another idea? Have Revan appear, however make it happen later, like during the Jedi civil war, before Revan is captured. Maybe have Revan kill Vox, because remember Vox is a Jedi so blinded by the light that it would make since that Revan would kill someone like him. Feeling nothing but anger and hate, but trying her best to hide it, she goes after Revan, a foolish mistake. When they meet Revan tells her that they are both the same, or something like that, and seriously gets under her skin. Revan defeats her without even trying, and simply lets her go, wounded and defeated. While this does seem rather strange it will create an even more stronger relationship between Bastila and Revan, so that when they do meet again, it as a lot more weight. Once again keep up the good work!

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16 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Jul 20, 2015 6:53 pm

Her dialogue, appearance, and voice combine to create a character who's clearly older than eighteen. Yeah, she's young, but I'm not placing her anything below twenty-two years when we come to the events of the first game.

Your idea for Revan's introduction is pretty extreme, Paradoxs. I've spent a few days stewing it over in my head and I still don't know what to think about it.

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17 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Jul 20, 2015 6:55 pm

Entry Five

Inside the shuttle transporting Vox, Vima, Meetra and me from a spaceport to the Jedi Temple, I sat on my knees and pressed my palms and nose to the viewport, admiring Coruscanti cityscape. Lines of widely cross-hatched speeder traffic, as though on transparent highways, navigated air lanes between polished skyscrapers. The kilometers-tall structures curved inward at the tops, tapering to soft points, and smooth grooves on the surfaces served as balconies.

Meetra, sitting beside me, chuckled and teased me for being a country girl in the big city.

I told her to shush and carried on goggling elegant architecture and the uniformity of a vast populace.

The shuttle entered the Industrial Zone where structures were shorter and flatter and traffic was thinner. Factory smoke fed the clouds. Cranes moved gigantic crates while spindly droids welded parts in shipyard trenches.

A while later, we landed on a pad. Our Republic pilot escorted us down the ramp and across the pad to a bridge. Vima and Meetra walked beside each other behind the pilot. Vox strode a few feet back from the two women and I followed yards behind him, my attention on the Jedi Temple at the other end of the bridge. The building was massive, the tallest one in the zone, but plain, its most distinguishing feature a single slender tower at the front.

The pilot stepped aside and bowed his head as the entrance swished open. We entered into a corridor. Some six men could have walked shoulder to shoulder, and its ceiling was five times as high. Mineral veins spread chaotically across the gleaming floors and walls. I heard voices echo from somewhere and the sounds of our heels clip-clapping.

Vima and Meetra led us a distance down the corridor, then we turned a corner into a lobby where the ceiling itself was a warm light source. Cushioned chairs were placed in loose circles near the corners and small trees and shrubs grew from circular openings in the floor, giving the air an aroma of greenery.

There were people in uniforms behind a long desk at the far wall. Several lifts lined another wall, portals or stairways the alternate. A protocol droid hobbled about. A Jedi stepped from a lift and nodded to a receptionist.

Vox turned around and looked down at me. "Sit down and wait for an attendant to retrieve you."

"No," Vima said, stepping up beside him. "Let her enter and witness the proceedings. This is a chance for her to see first-hand how the Jedi Council functions."

Meetra smirked. "Get ready to see the Jedi punish us, Basti."

The three Jedi strode for a stairway and I trailed after, growing worried at what might happen to my new comrades.

"We can expect an admonishment at worst," Vima said. She exchanged waves with a Twi'lek male Jedi coming down the stairs as we went up.

Vox huffed. "You essentially experimented with the Dark Side on a planet-wide scale, Vima. It was reckless, if not borderline stupid."

I caught up to Meetra and took her hand, lacing our finger together. "The Council should give the three of you medals. Why would they punish you when you did a fine job of fighting the darkness?"

"You have a lot to learn about the Council, little girl." Meetra gently squeezed my hand.

- - -

"We summoned you before us so that you may explain your actions." A middle-aged balding man whose voice and face I thought must be specially tuned to make others feel disappointed in themselves, gripped the arms of his chair. "Make your case convincing, or else you three Jedi might leave this chamber as padawans again." In my mind I nicknamed him Crab Apple.

"We cautioned you against going to Ambria." A second man stroked his thick mustache. "Yet you persisted anyway. Why?"

The four of us stood in a chamber where Jedi Masters sat in a ring of seats facing a short stone pillar at the very center. Lovely Meetra had switched off her glowing disposition for a countenance one would wear at a funeral, Vima was now so weary that she seemed to have aged years upon stepping inside, and Vox kept glancing out the windows as though planning an escape. I wanted to display my bravery, thus stood a bit apart from the rest while in clear view of the surrounding masters.

I had practiced breathing meditation on the way to the top of the tower and found that I didn't need to be sitting with my eyes closed to find a peaceful center. Though, I felt my calm dissipate as the tension in the chamber grew.

Vima cleared her throat. "Master Thon lived a paradigm of Jedi philosophy. The Force was like an active ingredient in his cells. We wanted to use that light to drive away the Dark Side from Ambria, in honor of his example."

"So you charged blindly ahead," Crab Apple said. "Narrowly averting disaster. And yet even this was the result of placing your peers and that child in danger."

"Master Vrook is right." This Jedi, whatever his name, was halfway handsome with his square jaw and defined nose and cheekbones. "Your intentions were noble, but you acted rashly. And in doing, you put your life in danger as well as your own apprentice."

"Administer my punishment so that we can be done with this," Vima said. "I think the Council has more important matters to attend than any one averted disaster."

The room fell silent for several seconds. Shifts in external feelings told me that the Jedi were deliberating through the Force.

The one with that mustache looked up. "Vima Sunrider and Meetra Surik. We're reassigning you to the Dantooine enclave. There you'll assist Master Zhar Lestin in the training of new students. Your time there should reaffirm the virtue of patience for you both."

Meetra straightened. "Masters, forgive my intrusion. I humbly request that you consider sending this girl, Bastila, along with us to Dantooine."

I gasped and locked gazes with the blonde beauty. How wonderful it would be to spend my days training with her; someone whose every tiny act toward me conveyed that she understood me.

"Step forward, youngling." Crab Apple was warmer than before.

I took a deep breath and stepped over to stand in front of him.

"You retrieved her, Vox Aben. What say you on her behalf?"

"The girl is headstrong and defiant," Vox said in his harsh quarren voice. "She shall grow to be a danger to those around her, unless she begins learning the Jedi disciplines."

My stomach turned with anxiety. I feared they think me too dangerous to accept as an apprentice. I would have to draw out the truth of my own worth. "I try my best in everything I do. And for someone my age I've achieved quite a lot, haven't I? Please tell them, Vox."

Vox continued. "She manipulated her mother's plants to grow out of season. She was able to control and command small animals, turning them into soldiers. Bastila has great potential, true, but..."

I tried to detect the masters' response through their facial expressions and emotional currents in the Force, but found them remarkably muted in both categories. "Yup. I helped my mum's flowers grow. I led a pack of tookas. Tell me I traveled lightyears and almost died for a reason."

Vrook shook his head, sighing faintly. "You believe you possess the patience needed for years of rigorous training. But I see within you an impatience to the level of recklessness." He looked to the mustached Jedi. "Zez Kai-Ell?"

"Her future is. . . problematic." Zez Kai-Ell sagged slightly as if some weight had descended on his shoulders. "Darkness closes in from all sides."

"The same could be said for every child," Vima said from behind me.

Vox let out a watery groan. "It's in their nature to overestimate themselves, admittedly. At any rate, I would excuse myself from business outside my own. Thus..."

Another pause, more elongated than the last. I closed my eyes and did my breathing meditation, pretending I was lightyears away from that chamber.

"No, Vox Aben." It was Vrook speaking. "Stay and listen. We're assigning you to the Dantooine enclave, as well. You are to take Bastila as your apprentice."

Vox issued a series of gurgles that resembled those of some dying aquatic animal and his tentacles were throwing a fit when I turned to my friends. I rushed to them and gave them each a firm hug.

Vox was rigid. Vima gave me a casual embrace, then adjusted my pigtails the way my mother would. Meetra competed with me for squeezing strength and undid my pigtails, ruffling my hair.

"Don't worry, Basti," Meetra said as we entered the lobby soon after. "You can train with me when Vox isn't paying attention. Which I assume will be the majority of days."

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18 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Jul 20, 2015 9:54 pm

In the next miniseries,

* A Miraluka has visions of the Jedi Civil War. The First Circle, an extremist Jedi cult, sends assassins to kill Vox Aben and Bastila Shan.

* The Mandalorians grow more confident as they conquer Outer Rim planets. They make quick work of Talravin, and Bastila is left to worry at the fate of her parents.

* Postpubescent Basti harbors a burning infatuation for her part-time instructor. But Meetra seems to be smitten by a "jerk" on Coruscant.

Coming Soon!

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19 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Wed Jul 22, 2015 12:16 am

Oh, I made a note on TheForce.net story thread that I forgot to put here.

We're skipping forward seven years in the next mini-series. The update will come around Sunday or Monday.

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20 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Wed Jul 22, 2015 1:26 am

Great work! To be honest you can ignore any idea that I come up with if destroys the flow of the story. My ideas for Revan are problematic, and if you don't like them ignore them. Don't let my ideas sway the story. Am just throwing out ideas you can use. This is your story not mine. Also the best idea for going forward is to ignore TOR and the Revan book for obvious reasons. Wonderful work as always. Very Happy

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21 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Wed Jul 29, 2015 1:39 am

Entry Six

Two months ago, a fellow apprentice asked if I wished to accompany him for a stroll on the lake shore. He said that he had waited so long to invite me because my beauty and dueling skills gave boys worthiness issues. Many young women had whispered of nudity and kisses during their outings with him.

I accepted his invitation and ran to my quarters to bathe and dress in a nicer, form-fitting set of robes. I met him on the bridge where we were to begin our walk to the lake. Then a second girl joined us. I was offended at this, wanting to be the star female of the show, but kept my complaints quiet. We locked elbows with him. I listened to his suggestive humor and forced myself to giggle, but contributed little else to the conversation as we traveled over the Dantooine plains and hills. He and the other girl struck a natural rapport and we were barely at the shore when the two of them stripped to their undergarments, dove into the sparkling waters, and broke the surface to lock lips. He beckoned me to join, almost as an after-thought. Feeling out of place, I returned to the Enclave.

The two apprentices were found dead in their separate quarters the next morning. Healers determined the cause to be brain-devouring ameba in the lake water that had entered their nasal passages. Ever since, I preferred to use Vox's tank for water meditation.

Vox had obtained a new starship, a duplicate of the original left behind on Ambria. He seldom flew the vessel, keeping it docked within a cavity in the side of a plateau. I jogged to the ship every break of dawn, practicing my acrobatics on boulders, logs, and cliffs (someday I hoped to put my skills to the test and explore every noteworthy cave or tomb on the planet). From morning to noon I floated in the tank, my limbs loosely crossed and my head down. The Force became my source of breath, continually reverting the carbon dioxide in my lungs to oxygen. That had taken a few years of practice until it became automatic. If you believe my mind was far away from my body in those hours, or my spirit had transcended space and time, you'd be wrong. A common misconception. True, there are Force-sensitives who have viewed the future with what turned out to be astonishing accuracy, but I proclaim that they triggered those visions by staying firmly rooted to the present.

"Now is when destinies unfold," Meetra often said. "The past is the present is the future." The galaxy-changing truths translate to what sounds like gibberish to an outsider, but the Force is more flexible than our stiff tongues.

I stayed awake last night dreading the test Vox would administer this afternoon. He and I were going to decide my future. Was I prepared to be a padawan? Vox complained daily of my supposed petulance. He criticized my personality out of habit while the other masters and instructors praised my abilities after every training session. Even Master Vrook found his own unique ways of complimenting me, though less intuitive people may mistake it for insult. "It's a wonder you've done so well in your training and that you've managed to not completely fail us."

I transitioned from light trance into deeper stages of awareness, where sense of self faded and the surrounding world opened to reveal misty forms dotting the landscape outside the ship. These drifting things were indicators of life confined to physical matter. And as I slipped further, I saw and felt the threads connecting them.

Meetra spoke to a group of younglings. Vox hiked through tall grass, making for his starship. Master Tokare pruned a shrub in the gardens. A couple of apprentice boys wrestled on a mat. A vibroblade match had pit one student against two, their movements predictable to me. A pack of kath hounds used their tusks to tear at carrion in a canyon.

A Zabrak man in dark robes wielding a red lightsaber leaped out and swiped at... Vox and me.
I opened my eyes, shocked out of my meditation, and realized I still floated in the tank.

- - -

I reasoned the vision as a dream formed by my fears of the Dark Side, but I did not dismiss it on the slim chance the Sith Zabrak represented a literal threat. Dantooine was safe, I thought. I had dressed and brushed my hair by the time the ramp lowered and Vox entered. I stepped out and curtsied to him.

"I am ready for my test, Master Aben."

He slid his hands into opposite sleeves and stared at me with his crystalline eyes. "Your soul was a power conduit for the Force, my apprentice. Why did you stop meditating?"

"I wanted to be at attention when you arrived." My vision was my concern. Masters cautioned their apprentices against overactive imaginings that could lead to delusion. I wanted to present myself as normal and submissive today, fearing Vox might look for a reason to bar me from promotion.

He hissed. "The test deems today special? How convenient."

I crossed my arms over my stomach and bit my tongue. On average days I rebuked him for over-analyzing my every choice, but today was in fact special.

"There is no emotion..."

I put my arms at my sides, raised my chin, and softly cleared my throat. "There is peace."

Vox traced a repeating circle around me in the cramped corridor. "Describe your emotions at present."

Keeping my front facing the entrance to the cockpit, I tried to ignore his efforts to intimidate me. "Emotions? I am at peace, master."

My master stopped behind me, brought his mouth close to my ear. "Self-delusion. Imagine you answered these questions correctly at a superficial level, but I say that you failed the test. Would you be at peace then?"

"Doubt it." I shivered. "A student who fails the initiation must review the basics for months until their master gives them a second chance."

He relocated to in front of me and leaned in so that his ugly squid face almost touched my nose. "Or the master deports their student to a far-away planet where they can live as a lowly farmer for the rest of their life. You've expressed interest in agriculture before, haven't you?"

I stared him in the eyes, trying to hold back my revulsion. I was halfway successful. "I'm too promising to waste, Vox Aben. Fail me and the Council is sure to countermand you."

Vox returned to his normal posture, nodded, and turned his back to me. "You hold your breath for extended periods of time while meditating. Promising, but your worth is yet to be truly seen."

I accidentally released a snort. "Save yourself the agonizing wait, master. Ask a seer to look into my future and find my worth. Shouldn't we move on with the recitation already?"

Vox pivoted on a heel and glared down at me. "There is no ignorance..."

"There is knowledge."

"What knowledge do you pursue on a daily basis?"

"I meditate in part to learn how people are connected in the Force."

"Go on."

I considered how best to describe my personal journey toward enlightenment, and tried to channel Meetra Surik in both my speech and tone. "Thoughts, feelings, and destinies form a web together in the spiritual plain. I want to follow those threads to their beginnings and ends, to discover the pattern of the universe."

Vox was silent for several seconds, then grunted. "There is no passion..."

"There is serenity." Though I could feel my heartbeat in my ears.

"There is no chaos..."

"There is harmony."

Vox made to place his hand on my cheek, but then stopped himself. "You spoke of a pattern to the universe. It's outside your perception, yet you sense that it's there. Find it... and you find harmony."

I felt a flutter of affection for my master.

He returned to his hard exterior. "There is no death..."

I took a deep breath and exhaled through my mouth. "There is the Force."

Vox turned his shoulder to me and waved a hand. "If I were wise, I'd delay your promotion by another year. But when you're a padawan, you'll spend more time training with Meetra and less time pestering me. Very well. I hereby name you a padawan."

"That's why I respect you as my master." I mentally relieved tightness in my muscles, a side-effect of trapping my more passionate side for so long. "You're willing to overlook your personal doubts when my future is at stake."

Vox grumbled under his breath and walked for the cockpit.

I followed him. "Now it's time to construct my lightsaber. I've deliberated on this for days and I've decided a yellow crystal best suits my personality. Do you have the supplies available?"

He sat down in the captain's chair, crossed his arms, and lowered his head.

Annoyed at him for so abruptly introverting, I fell back into the co-pilot's seat and knocked my heel on the deck a few times. "This is Bastila Shan calling to Vox Aben. Speak to me, master."

He made spitting sounds before he spoke. "The Jedi influences the crystal, and the crystal influences the Jedi. You want to grow into a calmer, more thoughtful individual. As your master, I say that you'll use a green crystal."

I tilted my head and squinted at him. "Excuse me?"

"And your lightsaber shall be short, to teach you humility."

My mind whirled with the possible insults I would have to endure from my fellow padawans. He was incidentally correct in that I wanted to cleanse aspects of my personality and become a mature-acting adult. But the restrictions were insane. "Those restrictions are insane. Why are you trying to make me a walking joke of a padawan? Do you truly resent me so much that you would sacrifice your reputation as a mentor?"

Vox huffed. "The lightsaber is a tool. A symbol. Such a thing doesn't make a Jedi. In fact, if you carry yourself as you should, you'll rarely find need for it and others will rarely find need to laugh at your expense. What truly protects a Jedi is the Force. You'll do well to take that to heart."

I bit my tongue, screaming on the inside until I was confident I could talk again without ranting. "Fine, then. Let's get on with constructing my rubbish lightsaber."

- - -

Stationed at the workbench that folded out from the wall of the crew quarters, I used a hydrospanner to insert and adjust circuitry components within the small hilt. The design was far from my personal ideal, but I was going to make sure that this weapon was the best of its kind. A padawan of my talents deserved better, I thought. I would need to depend on my personal charisma to win respect from people, while skipping out on sparring matches.

Vox sat at the table in the lounge watching Underground News Net. He would tell me to keep working when he sensed I was paying more attention to the news anchor than my project. I constantly heard reports of Mandalorian activity in the Outer Rim, sprinkled with the name Revanchist.

I snapped a diatium power cell into place, attached a mounted crystal to the top, and then put the shell of the hilt together, screwing it closed. "Done and done!"

I held the weapon in one hand and pressed the activation button. An emerald blade emerged, noticeably thin, short, and pointed. Two knobs on the hilt were turned to their maximum; one controlled blade intensity, the second length.

How could I test my lightsaber? I twirled the blade with my dainty fingers and sliced the wall behind the workbench. The gash sizzled at the edges.

Vox stepped into the quarters. "Girl, learn to think before you act. The Council was gracious to fund my purchase of this ship and you repay them by scarring the walls."

I waved my lightsaber a few feet from his face. "Forgive me, master. I had a strong urge to slice something."

"Turn that off already. The thought of you wielding one of those gives me nightmares."

Crestfallen, I switched off the saber and clipped it to my belt.

My stomach then felt filled with fluttering bugs. A sense of longing stretched from there to... a short distance from the plateau where the ship was settled. Meetra Surik was on her way.

"What are you smiling for?" Vox said.

I bolted into the corridor and pressed a button on a panel to open the ramp.

"--- publicly executed the official earlier today..." The news played in the lounge.

I ran across stone and dirt floor of the docking bay to one end of the wide mouth and turned onto an outdoor path leading down.

Meetra waved to me from far below.

I quickened my pace until skidding to a halt on a flat area. The other woman soon stood a few meters across from me.

"Where have you been this week, Surik?" I put a hand on my hip and arched a brow.

Meetra put a hand over her mouth to cover a fake yawn. "Mistress Vima invited me to a High Council meeting on Coruscant. We discussed rules and regulations related to newly-appointed padawans." She must have spotted the lightsaber at my belt.

"Oh?" I drifted closer to her. "And what did you self-important wankers decide?"

The woman gave me a look of pity. "You're banished for being too hot-headed." She strolled to me, graceful movements putting Cathars everywhere to shame.

"Or because someone was jealous of my stunning beauty." I slid my tongue slowly across my upper lip while smiling in the most wicked way.

- - -

A week before, I had asked Vox for his opinion on Jedi maintaining intimate relationships, a disguised plea for his blessing.

"Love is an endless minefield partners traverse hand in hand," he had said. "Trigger but one and you're well down the dark path. You are thankfully too young to have to face trials of the heart."

"Say you found me kissing a girl. Or boy. Would you discipline me?"

"The Code is clear. I expected you to possess basic reading comprehension. If you wish to engage in carnal activities, I hope you would have the wisdom to do so far away from me."

I was stupid to ask that and put him on alert, but the damage was done. Meetra hardly seemed to care if Vox suspected us and told the Council, knowing her prestige in the Jedi ranks would likely allow for a faint blemish on her record. And she could depend on Vima Sunrider to run interference for us.

- - -

Vox, Meetra, and I sat at the round lounge table, each with a cup of tea. I preferred to savor the taste of Meetra on my tongue, thus left my cup alone. Quarren black brew was notoriously repugnant to human taste buds at any rate.

A recap of a swoop race played on the holo-screen next to us. Vox, hating sports, had muted the volume.

"I find your foot odor sickening," the alien rumbled. "Stop playing at each other under the table and put your stockings back on." His kind smelled through two orifices at either side of the neck.

I rolled my eyes. "Are you certain it isn't your own feet that stink?"

"His ship, his rules." Meetra winked at me. We used our practiced toes to help each other slide our stockings back on.

A minute later, Vox reached up to the screen and returned the volume to normal as the next UNN segment began.

"--- more casualties than can be reasonably accounted for." A reporter commentated over a scene of an encampment where several humanoids stood in the foreground, each adorned in body armor and a stylistic t-visored helmet that curved from the shoulders toward the neck then up to a point above the head. Sheets of drizzle blurred the backdrop of battered tents, plasteel shelters, and drooping tropical trees. "The Mandalorian occupiers have released a video challenging the Republic to take firm action against them. Be advised. The footage you are about to see is of a graphic nature. It may not be suitable for all viewers."

As my heart thumped faster, I remembered that I was only fifteen-cycles old and starkly innocent to the wider galaxy.

My stare flitted to Meetra, whose face I found locked in hard readiness.

A Mandalorian put a heavy arm around the shoulders of an aged man in torn colonial wear. "Tell the Republic Senate the same thing you told us after we razed your farm to the ground." He sounded. . . joyous.

The cam zoomed in on the colonial, his face cracked and sickly. "You attacked our world unprovoked." He was a man at the edge of tears, pushing out his last ounces of bravery. "You murdered my son when he dared to speak against you. I fought against Mandalorians in the war with Exar Khun, and they were at least better than your ilk. Well, I'm not standing for it any longer! Let's see if your Mandalorian Code of Honor has any weight to it. I challenge you. Fight me, one on one."

The armored one laughed and shoved the veteran off cam. "Our valiant hero and his opponent are each equipped with a vibroblade."

The cam drew back to show a circular patch of soil, crates lining its edges. The old man climbed to his feet, a blade in his hand. His armored and masked opponent entered across the crude arena.

The two fighters struck repeatedly at each other and blocked or parried in the same motions. But the match lasted a minute.

The younger, stronger, taller, healthier man amputated the veteran's dominant hand.

"Die with honor!" The Mandalorian swept the tip of his blade across the old man's belly.

The defeated fell dead on a pile of his own gore.

The UNN reporter started talking again as another clip played of armored grunts using pikes to herd prisoners across the camp. "The rule is that if a civilian acts like a soldier, they are to be treated as one. For every poor soul we see here, the question becomes whether they should die in a fixed duel or go on suffering in this Hell." I saw humans, Twi'leks, Bothans, Zeltrons, and even two Wookiees, all with their hands bound in thick rope and their bare flesh or patchy fur wrecked by blood, bruises, and mud.

I heard Meetra grind her teeth and I looked over to find the beauty's ethereal glow diminished. She gripped the edge of the table and stared at the screen, though I had the sense she now saw past the ship hull itself. I got up from the table and stepped close behind her where I dropped to my knees and put my chin on her shoulder.

She pressed her cheek to mine. I felt it grow warmer.

I wrapped my arms around her. She grasped my wrists and leaned her head back, nostrils flaring in my hair.

"Away with the both of you," Vox said.

Meetra sighed and readjusted herself in the chair. I let my arms fall to my sides as I stood.

Vox took our three cups by the handles and went to dump the cold tea in the sink. "Aren't you giving a lecture this afternoon, Meetra? Why do I need to remind a teacher when it's time to teach?"

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22 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Fri Jul 31, 2015 10:51 am

Great as always. I wonder what Bastila will think of Meetra going to war, or being exiled.

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23 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Aug 10, 2015 6:29 am

@Paradoxs: That'll be a major plot point that I hope answers a lot of other questions about the Jedi Civil War. Smile

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24 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Aug 10, 2015 6:30 am

Please like and comment in TheForce.net thread.

http://boards.theforce.net/threads/bastila-shan-an-autobiography-hk-47-steps-in-as-editor-updated-august-10th.50031410/page-2

- - - - - - - - -



Entry Seven



I was allowed to change my mind on trivial matters when under the strain of boredom.

I held my lightsaber and faced human male peer, Prezly Waaren, on a dueling mat in the training room. Zhar Leston, a Twi'lek Jedi Master, refereed. Several other padawans at the sidelines spectated with steely interest on their faces. "Ready."

We raised our hilts in both hands and activated them at the same time. Hiss and sizzle became a deep hum. "Fight." I stayed in battle stance, my left foot set firmly a pace behind me.

Prezly ran at me until in reach and swung at my knees.

I rotated my hilt a sideways one-eighty, pointing the tip to the floor. Our blades crashed on the outside left of my body.

He pulled a full circle over my head and at my waist.

I moved my blade to the right and blocked.

He tried to overcome my strength, pushing for my torso. Our blades singed my robes at the hip.

I leaned back.

He leaned forward to compensate. The upper quarter of his weapon was close to the base of my hilt. I had the superior leverage.

I leaned to the far side in the direction of his push and dragged my saber along. Our weapons separated as I went for the outer calf of his leg and. . . hit.

Prezly fell and wailed like a shrill infant.

A few onlookers used telekinesis to drag him from the mat. Zhar raised his hand and closed his eyes for a few seconds, administering a psychic sedative to the defeated padawan, who fell unconscious. "Delgitto and Sidlanger. Go."

Human male Delgitto came cautiously for my front while holding his weapon in one hand horizontally between us . Twi'lek female Sidlanger, a known devotee of Ataru, rushed me from behind.

I triggered a burst of Force speed and zoomed, knocking aside his lightsaber in the same nanosecond that Sidlanger launched from the mat and all but flew to the wall behind my current opponent.

He and I each exchanged a spark-filled blow and locked sabers by the time the Twi'lek kicked from the wall meters above the floor and went like a blaster bolt for Delgitto's back.

He jumped out of the way. I spun my body to the side and ended up behind the still-suspended Twi'lek where I struck at her feet. . . missing.

She landed in a front roll, then turned and stood in the same movement.

I made for Delgitto again and stabbed at his chest. Sidlanger was upon the young man as well, swinging for his left shin.

He hopped over the Twi'lek's blade, parried my attempted stab, and landed again.

My temporary ally and I threw a series of powerful attacks at Delgitto, who then used the defensive style Soresu, keeping his blade close to his body.

Seconds wore on. We went for every exposed part on our enemy, but he rotated his wrists and swept his shining shaft in almost casual movements that frustrated me more and more. When I was wondering if we would ever find a break in his defense, Sidlanger brought her saber straight down for his head.

Delgitto, perhaps feeling her attack was too powerful to simply sweep away with his blade diagonal or vertical, raised his weapon over his head while tilting it horizontally.

Sidlanger let her blade "bounce" a few inches off of his, then struck down at his dominant hand.
He dropped his saber and fell to his knees, crying out.

I struck at the Twi'lek, hoping to capitalize on the distraction. I feared for my reputation as a duelist, feared that she may be the greater fighter, and I wanted desperately to dash my own doubts and prove my worth. The masters frequently complimented my talents with a blade and my aptitude for deep meditation. To lose this match would mean disappointing them and thus wounding my confidence in the years to come.

But she blocked. We flew into a heated duel of blurred, risky attacks and precise defenses. The Force and our own hormones pumped through us as we twirled our blades and bodies, each desiring nothing more at that time than to defeat and humiliate the other. My surroundings disappeared. My focus switched constantly to exposed parts of her body that decided my next surgical jab or slice, then to stopping her comparable offenses. Emotions stormed. I felt exhilarated as when Vox and I had descended through the atmosphere of Ambria, but now I could wield and direct those feelings to empower myself.

The end of the pulse-pounding dance came abruptly. Sidlanger repeated the attack she had performed earlier, jumping and flipping backward out of my reach to a wall, where she bounced off and zoomed at me. She straightened, becoming a projectile, stabbing for my face.

I parried her blade, then felt weight squeeze between my legs.

The Twi'lek grabbed my ankle as she shot under me. She tripped me and let go.

I landed in a push-up position, but my nose nonetheless smacked into the mat. My eyes filled with tears from the shock and pain. Most the students guffawed, clapped, or turned away in an effort to suppress themselves. Shame-fueled anger boiled in my belly, churned up through my veins and muscles, giving me a new sense of focus, purpose, and raw power waiting to be burst out through some show of physical dominance. I glanced up to see Leston close his eyes and extend a hand toward me, doubtless wanting to calm my embarrassment. He could keep his artificial emotions and placating lies, though. I shoved his psychic influence back with my hot feelings. The pink Twi'lek master appeared startled as I climbed to my feet, saber still in hand, and faced Sidlanger who stood with one hip jutting out, twirling her lightsaber lazily and smirking at me.

"Try to be positive," she sang. "You'll always have those cute dimples."

I walked for her, shoulders back and chin elevated, fist gripping the weapon at my side.

Her victorious energy lessened every step I took. She seemed even more startled than our referee, and took on a defensive stance with eyes wide and jaw gaping. My emotions radiated through the room, silencing the students. I was sure I heard Leston telling us to stop, but I would have none of it.

I raised my blade in both hands and brought it down on the Twi'lek, then pushed our locked shafts closer to her face. "Go back to the slums of Nar Shaddaa. Marry a nice Hutt."

She growled and twisted her body in a circle, going for my legs before my own blade could close the scant few inches to hurt her. I blocked, and swung for her head.

She blocked, but more sluggishly than last time.

We attacked repeatedly. I retained my strength and speed, but Sidlanger had lost her previous vigor. At last I slammed my blade into the side of her face and sent her sidelong into the hard floor, for we had left the mat some time ago.

My heart beat vibrant victory, and my pride had me feeling the most powerful Jedi that ever existed.

The feverish madness left me in a flash, though, when I looked down at my fallen foe sobbing on the floor. A red welt scarred the Twi'lek's face. Blood and tears streamed down her cheek and dripped off her jaw bone. I felt a sudden sickness with myself, then switched off my lightsaber and dropped the abomination of a weapon to the floor where I wanted to leave it forever. I turned around to see the many students gathered behind us. Master Leston squeezed past some of them; they had congested their numbers to keep the teacher at bay, perhaps because they craved to witness the violent urges they daily kept trapped inside themselves. A few clapped, cheered or hooted, but others appeared shocked and a few even eyed me in suspicion bordering on disgust.

"Sidlanger!" The pink Twi'lek man dropped to the padawan's side and gently moved her hand away from her face to replace it with his own.

"Bastila Shan." An oddly-inflected voice sounded from the doorway of the training room. Master Vandar, an alien who stood a few feet tall, motioned for me. He was humanoid, though I would pause to call him near-human, for his eyes were bulbous and heavily-lidded, his ears were long and pointed, his skin green-brown and leathery, and his tiny fingers ended in claws. It was hard to guess Vandar's age, but it was commonly accepted that he was in the centuries-range, if not shy of a thousand years.

I swallowed a lump in my throat which traveled down to the growing shame and fear in my stomach, and walked to Vandar, finding it difficult to express my utter humility given I had to look straight down at him when I stopped in front of him. "Yes, master?"

The alien locked his hands behind him and leaned his head back to study my demeanor. I stayed frozen in place and heard the mutters of gossip among the other padawans.

"She'll be banished for sure."

"Friggin' psycho, that one."

Vandar issued a long groan as he usually did when reaching some disturbing truth. "The Council shall deliberate upon this incident. Until we reach a unanimous decision as to your future here in the Dantooine Enclave, you are to remain on Vox Aben's ship. Leave your lightsaber where it lays. You are dismissed."

Soon after, I flitted my fingertips across prairie grass. Best to take my time on my journey to the ship, thinking on my best retorts for Vox's likeliest criticisms. Creating mental, hypothetical debates with my masters was a hobby I found both stimulating and annoying. Every padawan brushes the allure of the Dark Side from time to time, I thought. The Council must be understanding toward students who give in to their anger, or else the Jedi Order would be considerably lesser. The Jedi needed their numbers to combat the ocassional uprising of Dark Side acolytes, and depended on racial and cultural diversity to expand on their understanding of the Force through the generations.

Midway there, I stood on a hill and squinted out at the lake, its rolling waves sparkling like thousands of diamonds in answer to the setting sun. Vandar wanted to frighten me back into my usual submission to Jedi ideals, without realizing that I had done as much to myself when defeating Sidlanger.

I reached the maze of plateaus where, further ahead, the ship was docked in a land cavity. One kilometer left, then I would bravely face my grumpy Quarren master and give him further reason to resent humans. But deja vu descended on my mind. I halted and waited for the dizzying sensation to pass. I questioned why the present moment seemed a memory from days ago; I had been standing right here, when something relevant had happened on the cliff above.

"Precisely what I thought," Vox stepped from behind a boulder a short jog in front of me. "Taking a leisurely pace when a reprimand awaits." My master strode at me, glaring.

I kept in place, trying to piece together the new mental puzzle. And I finally remembered my vision. Vox was almost to me when there was a beast's growl from overhead.

A Zabrak man in black robes, wielding a double-bladed lightsaber, leapt from the cliff edge a dozen meters above us, aimed to land in our midst.

I became aware that my lightsaber was back at the Enclave.

Vox super-sped at me and grabbed me under the arms. The impact painfully compressed my sternum, emptied my lungs. He zoomed us onward, my legs around his waist, and then the Quarren stuck his heels into dirt to slow us down, else my back smack into the wall of a plateau. We clumsily came to a stop and regained our footing as dust and pebbles showered us.

The Zabrak roared in unadulterated rage and landed in my previous standing spot, the collision so absurdly powerful that the ground shook and a small crater formed about him.

"Who is he? Why does he want to kill us?"

"Return to the Enclave." Vox pushed me back and stepped between me and the Zabrak.

Highly-concentrated spiritual currents rippled in the air and converged on the Zabrak, who gripped his saber staff in both hands and presumably gathered more of the Force in himself to mount another over-the-top assault. His face, tattooed in a wild tribal design and twisted by malice, looked more animal than sentient. Six long, gnarled horns were set on his head.

"We're partners, Vox." I stepped up beside him and went into battle stance. The Force was my ally, even if my lightsaber was long gone.

"Remember your place. I bear a responsibility to keep you safe, and I intend to."

The Zabrak shot forward at us a few inches above the ground, fast as a blaster bolt. Vox Force-pushed me to the side.

I somersaulted and landed upright as thunder from the sonic boom blasted the air and a mighty wind immediately staggered me. A thick dust cloud sailed past my view of the two.

Vox had conjured gauntlets of white light that flashed and glowed around his fists and forearms.

The Zabrak spun and manipulated his staff with fluidity, striking at Vox from multiple angles a second.

Vox used his gauntlets to block, then punch or chop. He drove his enemy back inch by inch, but relented the same minuscule distance.

Both fighters called upon an infinite well of power and stamina as with their every motion each came dangerously close to the other's body.

Vox's fingertips grazed the dark one's face and robes.

The Zabrak lopped off the tip of a tentacle, sliced a flesh wound through an arm of the Jedi garment.

A voice spoke in my mind. "Go. . . Bastila. . ."

I blinked, breaking from the hypnotic effects of watching such a duel. I knew my presence right now distracted the valiant Jedi Knight, stunting his abilities. But I needed to save my dear squid-man. If he should die, I would die next to him.

"For the Jedi!" I ran at the Zabrak, Force-pulled the lightsaber from Vox's belt into my outstretched hand, and clicked the activator.

I brought a green blade down at my enemy.

The Zabrak thrust it away from him.

But Vox and I attacked, again and again, until the dark one went almost entirely on the defensive.
Vox chopped off one end of the staff.

The Zabrak, his style suddenly handicapped, leapt backward out of our reach and yelled out. A Force-push shockwave blasted outward from his body in all directions.

I instinctively erected a spherical barrier around myself and Vox, protecting us from the booming waves of distorted air.

The light guantlets vanished from Vox's arms and he groaned, sinking to his knees.

The barrier collapsed. I crouched down beside my master and pressed a hand to his front to support him.

"That. . . that is all I have to give, child."

"Stay put. I can deal with him." I kissed a tip of his diamond-shaped head crown and rose back up.

I gripped the hilt of my new weapon in both hands and began walking for the Zabrak. "Why are you here?"

The demonic man, pointing his crimson blade down at his side, frowned at me. He took his free fingers, pressed them to his throat, and shook his head. He mouthed words, but nothing came out.

I stopped a bit out of his immediate reach. "You are mute?"

He nodded.

"If that is so, how did you manage to roar like a beast when you first attacked us?"

The man reared his head back and roared again. The echo must have carried for kilometers.

"Let's put our weapons away," I said, feeling some sympathy for him. "You could draw a picture in the dust to explain yourself. I want to learn more about you, if you'd allow it."

I translated his next look to mean that he was partly mute, but intelligent enough to be insulted at my offer.

"The Dark Side lures, corrupts, and destroys." I parroted what Meetra had once said to our class. "You may wield anger to great effect, but at the cost of your soul's integrity. Emotions leading to destructive acts exact their destruction first in the heart."

The Zabrak raised his weapon and grimaced.

"Turn away from the darkness, friend. For your own sake."

He growled. . . and swiped at me.

I leaned out of his reach.

He huffed, kicked at the ground, and charged, flying into a fit of empty-headed attacks.

Then it happened. Jedi from the Enclave drew nearer. I felt their promise of relief to come. And somehow I understood that I was taking the right course by physically defending myself and only attacking through words. The truth clouded the Zabrak's mind, overcoming the focus of the Dark Side previously gave him.

"Your path leads to the final death." I constantly moved my blade in response to his amateurish onslaught, the Force and my own muscle memory automating the defense. "You shall fall into oblivion, lose everything you were or ever would be. Is that worth the abilities you flaunt? The power that fails you even as we fight here and now?"

The Zabrak suddenly went rigid. His lightsaber dropped from his grasp and deactivated when it hit a rock. My defeated enemy fell backward.

Sensing a new presence, I looked to the edge of a plateau. Meetra Surik and several Jedi Masters had arrived.

I clipped Vox's hilt to my belt and bowed at the waist to the rescue team.

Meetra stepped off the edge of the plateau and floated down an otherwise treacherous height, like a specter at nightfall, her short platinum hair, robe leggings and cloak tail moving as though submerged in liquid. The other Jedi followed her method. She made running motions before her feet touched the ground and a few seconds later we shared a brief hug and pecks on the cheeks. Vandar, floating in a hover-seat, broke from the group with Leston to check on Vox still lying unconscious.

"Meetra," Vrook said. "How long can you suppress his connection to the Force?"

"However long it takes to keep her safe."

"Get started."

Vrook telekinetically levitated the fainted Zabrak a few feet from the ground and Meetra walked to the alien's side where she raised her head, spread her arms, and closed her eyes, as though a priestess consecrating a sacrifice. An elderly Jedi in the company pointed at a tree, twitched his bony fingers, and summoned vines from the branches which snaked over and began wrapping around our prisoner.

I made for Vandar, Leston, and Vox. My master now stood and recounted his experience. "He was highly trained." I stopped beside him. He glanced down to the saber clipped to my belt and opened his hand in front of me.

I relinquished the weapon.

Vandar made a pleased sound. "Yet Bastila pierced through the Sith's willpower with the blade of truth. You have taught her well."

In my heart, I gave the credit to Meetra Surik.



Last edited by Harrold Andraste on Mon Aug 10, 2015 6:33 am; edited 1 time in total

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25 Re: Bastila Shan - An Autobiography on Mon Aug 10, 2015 6:32 am

Please like and comment in TheForce.net thread.

http://boards.theforce.net/threads/bastila-shan-an-autobiography-hk-47-steps-in-as-editor-updated-august-10th.50031410/page-2

- - - - - - - - - -

7.5

HK-47: Amendment. To audience. My mistress is given to hypochondria and histrionics. A medical professional has determined that the pain she suffered at the beginning of Entry Four was a side-effect of constipation, now cured. Master estimates that his wife's sagging, withered body will go on functioning for years to come.

[BASTILA HOBBLES INTO QUARTERS, DRESSED IN ROBE EMBROIDERED WITH PLANT DESIGNS.]

BASTILA: Come, HK. Let's continue my story.

HK-47: Question. How much longer must you torment me with your pedestrian prose?

BASTILA: That attitude is why you are my editor.

HK-47: Observation. You veto every edit I attempt.

BASTILA: Thus far, but we've a long way to go.

Is this where I listen to you ramble about how I'm wasting your lethal talents? It was adorable at first, but I think it'd tire me now.

[SHE ENTERS CLOSET, SLIDES OUT OF SHOES]

HK-47: Declaration. Henceforth, I will insert disclaimers to the audience between entries and list discrepancies in your claims.

[SHE LIFTS WIG OF LONG BRAIDED HAIR FROM HER HEAD, PLACES IT OVER MANIKIN HEAD ON SHELF. HER TRUE HAIR IS SHORTER AND WISPIER.]

BASTILA: I suppose that's reasonable. They're subject to deletion at my word, though.

[SHE WALKS FOR BED. LIFTS GLASS OF WINE FROM NIGHT-STAND IN TREMBLING HAND, TAKES THREE SIPS. RETURNS GLASS. SHE SINKS DOWN ONTO EDGE OF BED, HER SPINE POPPING REPEATEDLY. HOW DOES IT NOT BREAK?]

BASTILA: Begin recording. The Republic Archive stores bits of deception, however reputable and well-meaning its stewards, that spread across a populace eager to speculate and then believe in what amounts to fables. Some historians uphold that my talents were in the art of seduction, that I often exploited the Force along with my personal charms to beckon warriors, many among the enemy, to valiantly fight for my selfish causes.

[SHE PUTS LOWER BODY UNDER SHEET AND BLANKET, RESTS UPPER BODY ON PILE OF PILLOWS.]

The first supposed example happened during the First Circle event on Dantooine, wherein I'm said to have indulged a Sith Zabrak's sexual desires in exchange for classified intel. Brace yourselves.

I did, in fact, do that. I'm not overly proud of the power I exercised over men and women alike, human or Zabrak.

HK-47: Interjection. That last entry directly contradicts your psychological profile. Assuming, of course, that creating a self-insert fantasy wasn't your intention.

Statement. Perhaps my master can clarify this. Though I would hesitate to ask.

- - - - - - - - - -


I planned a scene similar to this before even starting on the story, but didn't know how to tackle it. Tonight I was struck with inspiration and typed that out.

The plot outline remains largely the same, including the point of Bastila's "final choice". But the story feels, at least to me, more in line with KotOR.

Catch you soon! Wink

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