Moments of Truth/Part 1

1,386 BBY (Day 142 of the Conquest of Milagro)

"Let's get the bomb in the cargo hold," Tirien said.

"Can you disarm it?" Narasi asked.

Tirien had unslung their packs from his back, but he stopped to stare at her. "What?"

"You said Suwo taught you demolitions, right?"

"And if you need me to rig you up a grenade from spare parts, you let me know," he said, still staring. "This isn't an improvised explosive someone threw together, Narasi, it's a nuclear bomb."

From behind them, Zaella laughed. Narasi gave the Twi'lek a glower over her shoulder. Like Narasi, she hadn't bothered to change out of the dirty, sweat-soaked, bloodstained attire she had worn into the arena, and she carried only the few belongings she had retrieved from her room in Runganna's palace on their way out. Zaella had wrapped a strip torn from her uniform around her forehead and the base of one lek to stop the bleeding over her right eye, but blood still dribbled down past the damp bandage. Her amber eyes narrowed, but her laugh died off.

Tirien cleared his throat and, grumbling, Narasi turned to help him. They had only used the Second Chance ' s cargo bay once, during their memorable rescue mission on Darkknell, and never for actually hauling cargo. Even with the loading bay opened, it took them several minutes of pacing around the opening to come up with a plan for wedging the bomb inside that didn't risk cracking the shell and exposing them all to baradium poisoning.

Narasi went back to get the bomb's repulsor dolly, trying to ignore the pain down her arm and back and the stabbing sensation in her chest with each breath. "You sure you don't want to drop this thing off somewhere before we go…where are we going again?"

"Guudria. And yes, we're closer now than we may be for a while." He looked back at the palace with narrowed eyes. "And we might do best to take our time getting back, in case they decide to invite some friends to wait for us on the lanes."

Narasi couldn't argue with that logic; she had seen Runganna's expression for herself. She pressed on the handle of the dolly, but gasped as her shoulder lit up with pain. Tirien stopped her and looked at her back; she felt more than she saw his wince. "Is it that bad?"

"Well, it isn't good." He tipped his head away from the bomb. "I can manage this. Get Zaella inside and pull out the medkit; this shouldn't take more than a moment."

Narasi hesitated, digging a rut in the ground with the toe of one boot. Lowering her voice, she asked, "Are you sure about bringing her with us?"

"As opposed to?" Tirien asked without looking away from the bomb.

Narasi made a face. They could not fit all the freed slaves in the Second Chance, nor did she trust Zaella to go with them. They could not release Zaella into the galaxy where she could hurt someone else, but neither could she reconcile herself to leaving Zaella on Circumtore; Runganna's guards would probably recover their courage in a hurry with Tirien gone and Runganna's fury to drive them, and Zaella was in no condition to fight off anyone else.

There really was no choice, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. Grimacing, she grunted, "C'mon."

"Thanks for rolling out the red carpet," Zaella muttered. Narasi decided to ignore it.

A minute or two under the ship was enough to clear away the various bugs and reptiles that had just started staking their claims to the landing struts. Narasi didn't see any gizka eggs, which she thought was for the best; much as it would've been cute for Gizmo to have a friend, she thought Tirien might eject her out the airlock if she brought another aboard.

Zaella stood at the boarding ramp, looking awkward. She glanced under the ship as Narasi approached and said, "You missed one."

She raised her hand and squeezed it into a fist. Narasi felt a touch of the Force and a flare of pain, and looked back in time to see a bat drop off the Second Chance and onto the marshy ground. It flopped a couple times, twitched, and then lay still.

"Did you just kill that?!"

Zaella blinked. "Yeah. Why?"

Narasi opened her mouth, but just shook her head in disgust, typing in the access code to lower the boarding ramp.

"What?"

"Forget it. C'mon." Narasi went up the ramp first; she hadn't appreciated the humidity of the environment until she passed into the cooler, recycled air of the ship. Gizmo croaked and hopped into sight, cocking his little head, and Narasi grinned.

"Ugh, you have gizka, too." Zaella raised a hand. "I'll get it for you."

"NO!" Narasi spun, and her side kick lifted Zaella a couple centimeters off her feet and slamming her into the corner at the top of the ramp. Her lekku took the brunt of the blow, which seemed to cushion her skull but hurt all the worse, because she screamed in pain. The sound cut through Narasi's burst of rage, and she took a step forward while Gizmo squealed and fled to his cupboard; Narasi extended one hand, though whether to help or slap Zaella upside the head she wasn't sure. But Zaella looked up from under her brows with rage in her eyes and made a fist, and the Force squeezed Narasi's neck.

She lurched back, grabbing her neck with one hand and thrusting out the other, pulling the Force to herself to retaliate, but before she could Tirien appeared at the base of the ramp. He waved a hand and the Force loosened around Narasi's neck at the same moment Zaella pulled her hand back, sucking her fingers like they'd been burned. Raising an eyebrow, Tirien asked, "Problem?"

"She was choking me!" Narasi rasped.

"She attacked me!"

"Because she was gonna hurt Gizmo!"

"You just…wait, 'Gizmo the gizka'?"

Tirien sighed and came up the ramp. "Been there; best to just roll with it. I'm going to take us up and get the coordinates in; can you two avoid killing each other—or Gizmo—until I get back?"

Her anger fading, Narasi became conscious of the pain in her shoulder; she had thrust out her burned arm. Bowing her head, she said, "Yes, Master."

Zaella didn't meet his eyes either. "…whatever. Yeah."

"Good. Zaella, have a seat and don't kill anything.  Narasi, the medkit."

While Zaella threw her effects on the deck and plopped down beside them, muttering to herself in a language Narasi didn't recognize, Narasi dug in the cabinet for the medkit, throwing the Twi'lek suspicious glances. Gizmo was still cowering in his cupboard, and once Narasi had set the medkit on the floor, she lowered herself with a groan and tried to coax him out. He took some greens from her hand, but even a wire wouldn't tempt him out into the open.

"Why do you have a pet gizka?" Zaella asked as the ship rattled on liftoff and Narasi dug into the medkit.

Kriff you, that's why!, Narasi thought, but she figured Tirien wouldn't approve. "He was born aboard. He's one of us now.  Him, Tirien, and me, I mean."

"Yeah, I got it, thanks." Zaella undid the leather straps holding her lekku back and pulled her left lek over her shoulder, staring at the maimed tip. Ghrond's hammer had flattened the bottom three or four centimeters; only a few strips of skin were left, like a popped balloon, and with a twist of nausea, Narasi realized Zaella had probably left some muscle tissue on the arena floor. The Twi'lek's jaw trembled, and she reached for her bag, pawing around in it for a minute before pulling out a pouch Narasi had seen before.

"That's where you keep your sketching datapad?" she asked.

"That's none of your…" Zaella looked at Narasi, who was surprised by the tears brimming in Zaella's eyes. She blinked against them, hardened her face, and spat, "Yes."

Taking a deep breath and regretting it when the pain in her ribs peaked, Narasi said, "I'm sorry if I hurt you before. When I kicked you, I mean; not in the arena."

Zaella rubbed her eyes and snorted. "You're not sorry for hurting me there?"

Narasi felt her temper fraying as the ship rumbled, passing through the atmosphere. "Not really, no."

Zaella laughed, though there was a little catch in her voice. "Yeah. Well, I've had worse."

She rubbed her lekku with one hand, though, and Narasi asked, "They're really sensitive, right?"

"Yeah." She gave Narasi a look. "When they get smashed into a wall, it really hurts."

"I said I was sorry," Narasi said, feeling less sorry by the minute. She opened the catch on the medkit. "Maybe we can fix it."

This time Zaella's laugh definitely shook. "How are you going to fix it?"

The Second Chance rocked just a bit; they had entered hyperspace. "I dunno. Will it regenerate if you put bacta on it?"

"Regenerate? I'm not a lizard!"

"Geez, okay! I only had one Twi'lek in my Initiate Clan, and I wasn't that close with him.  And the only other one I've known is a Jedi Master!"

Zaella had reached for her bag again, but she stopped, frowning. "There's a Twi'lek Jedi Master?"

"There are at least a couple," Narasi said, opening the medkit and sorting through the supplies. Setting aside a small tub of bacta paste, she asked, "So, bacta. Yes, no…?"

"What purity?"

Narasi blinked. "Purity?"

Zaella rolled her eyes. "Ten percent? Fifteen?  What's the purity rat—"

"Roughly ninety percent," Tirien said as he came down the hall from the cockpit. "It's mixed enough with extra ambori for the paste texture, but that's all."

Zaella's eyes widened in obvious shock, but Narasi still didn't get it. "What am I missing, Master?"

"In some of the outlying systems, bacta's in short supply," he said. "People dilute it so it lasts longer."

"But doesn't that make it less effective?"

"Of course, but anything is better than nothing."

Zaella was still staring. "Ninety percent? Do you know how much that'd be worth?!"

Tirien looked at the two of them. "Just now, I think it's invaluable. Who's first?"

Narasi's ribs were throbbing, and the best she could say for the burns on her shoulder and back was that they didn't hurt as much as when they were actively on fire. But she remembered the look of agony on Zaella's face, braced herself, and said, "Zaella."

Zaella started, then hissed as her maimed lek flopped against her chest. Tirien glanced at her, then asked, "You'll be all right for a few minutes?"

"Yeah."

Tirien nodded, then knelt down in front of Zaella, who scooted back against the bulkhead, eyes wide. "What are you going to do to me?"

He looked her over. "We'll have to get the bleeding on that head wound stopped first."

He peeled the fabric strip away while Zaella clenched her teeth and squeezed her hands into fists. The wound bled more freely, but Tirien turned her face with his fingertips, looking to make sure her skull wasn't cracked; when he was satisfied, he painted on a layer of bacta with the applicator, then covered Zaella's eye while he sprayed coagulant over it.

Wrapping a fresh bandage around her skull, he said, "That should take care of it. Now, your lek…"

He raised a hand, but Zaella cradled the head-tail in both hands. "Don't touch me!"

Narasi narrowed her eyes, but Tirien kept his tone level. "Zaella, the muscle's exposed; you're still bleeding. We have to treat it or it could get infected."

A little puddle of blood had gathered on the deck at Zaella's side. Zaella hesitated; then, to Narasi's surprise, she looked past Tirien's shoulder, a clear question in her eyes. Narasi nodded in encouragement, and Zaella swallowed hard. "What will do you?"

"Use the Force to numb the nerves a bit, then put some bacta on and seal the cut. May I?"

After a moment, Zaella held up her lek in shaking hands. Tirien took it gently, and Narasi felt him focusing in the Force. After a couple minutes Zaella unclenched her fists and relaxed tension in her shoulders Narasi hadn't noticed.

"Better?" Tirien asked.

"…yeah."

Tirien nodded, then treated the open end of the lek while it was still numb. He took out a roll of gauze, but paused. "The flesh at the tip?"

"Leave it alone!"

Tirien just nodded again and wrapped the tip up, but Narasi cocked her head. "You said Twi'leks don't regenerate."

"We don't."

"So why keep the loose skin?"

"It's none of your business!" Zaella snarled. Tirien, who had just finished, gave her a look, but said nothing as he packed up the supplies and stood.

"Well, I mean, it'll have to come off eventually, right? It's just skin."

Zaella's chest rose and fell, and Narasi felt her anger in the Force. Tirien knelt beside his Padawan and said, "It isn't just skin, Narasi. Part of Twi'leki is nonverbal, in lekku motions; it may affect her ability to communicate in—"

"SHUT UP!" Zaella shrieked, hurtling to her feet, a pillar of rage in the Force. Narasi started to rise, but Tirien held an arm across her chest to keep her down. He looked up at Zaella, and this time Narasi could see his expression—placid, almost blank, but with a depth in his yellow eyes that showed he was neither impressed nor intimidated. Prevented from responding, Narasi had no choice but to assess instead, and she realized this was what had been bothering Zaella. She imagined losing part of her tongue or several front teeth—something equally essential to communication—and felt a twinge of sympathy.

Zaella glared down at Tirien for a moment, but eventually her rage burned up all its fuel and the fire fizzled. Tirien's expression didn't change, but Zaella's did—her eyes widened and she shrank back, jumping when her back hit the bulkhead behind her. "I'm sorry…"

Tirien looked at her a second more, then just nodded. "Now, Narasi, what hurts most?"

Narasi was distracted by Zaella's expression—both relieved and baffled at once—but she shook her head and tried to focus, which was not difficult—once she started thinking about her pain, it was hard to think about anything else. "It hurts to breathe. And the burns, especially on my shoulder…"

He peeled the compression top's strap away from her skin while Narasi clamped her jaw shut so she wouldn't snarl in his face. Then he held two fingers in front of her sternum. "May I?"

When she nodded, he poked her between her breasts, gently at first, then harder when she didn't react. "Nothing?"

"No. It's more…"  She took a deep breath, winced, and traced a line under one breast and a spot behind the other.

"And it's worse when you breathe deeply?"

"Yeah."

Tirien nodded. "That's good."

"Umm…"

He smirked and clarified, "It's good that it's only the ribs. They're probably cracked, maybe broken, but your sternum seems to be intact.  When you took that hammer to the chest I was worried."

"Yeah, you and me both. What about the burns?"

"Well, you lost most of the hair on your left ear, and some of it got burnt on your scalp." He rubbed his fingers through her hair; Narasi heard a crackle, and he showed her the char on his fingertips. "It'll probably take a while to grow back out. You have a couple second-degree burns on your back and the base of your ear, and I think this was a blaster shot."

He touched one finger lightly to the trapezius muscle on her left side; Narasi cringed.

"Exactly. A little bacta for that, I think; you should be able to clear the rest up with meditation."

"Meditation?" she asked as he dabbed bacta paste onto her shoulder.

"Force healing."

"I'm not trained to be a healer, Master."

"Neither am I, but any Jedi should be able to treat minor wounds, at least until she can get to help."

"The Force doesn't work that way," Zaella blurted out. Narasi looked past Tirien to find the Twi'lek staring at them. "It can't just…fix injuries."

"The dark side doesn't work that way," Tirien corrected. He took Narasi's chin in his hand, turned her head this way as he searched for more injuries, then nodded. "But there's much more to the Force than you've been shown, Zaella."

Zaella looked offended and intrigued at once, but Narasi had more pressing concerns. "How does it work?"

"It's really just another position of curato salva. Focusing the Force into the injured cells stimulates regrowth much faster than natural healing."

"Faster than bacta?"

"It depends how experienced you are with it. But you won't always have bacta with you," he pointed out. "The Force will be with you always."

Even fatigued Narasi thought she knew where this was going, and sure enough, he followed with, "We could do a first meditation session now. All three of us."

While Zaella shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable, Narasi said, "I'm kinda…beat, Master."

The bacta had begun to work on her shoulder and ear, and as it muted the most intense burning, Narasi realized how exhausted she really was. She had not slept in a day, and the effort of fighting three dangerous enemies had done more of a number on her than she had experienced in a single day since Darkknell; now that she was sitting, she didn't really want to get up again.

"That's fair," Tirien said. "You've had a long day."

Narasi winced when the irony occurred to her; he had meditated off and on to restore his energy, but he hadn't slept on Circumtore at all. "You should probably crash too, Master."

He nodded. "I intend to. Zaella?"

"What? Am I tired?  Yeah, I've kinda had a rough day too." She looked around. "Where do we sleep?"

"We only have the two bunks…"

Zaella grimaced. "Let me guess: I'm on the floor?"

"No, of course not. You can sleep in my bunk."

Narasi wasn't sure how she felt about Zaella being a meter from her while she slept, but Zaella looked uneasy too. Narasi thought it might be reciprocal mistrust until Zaella asked, "With…with you, you mean?"

The discussion of sleep had been working on Tirien, but he blinked his way back to full alertness at that. "What? No, of course not.  I'll sleep on the floor."

"Master, you could have my—"

"I'm just tired," he pointed out. "You're both injured. Let your bodies do their first round of healing, and we'll meditate when we're all refreshed."

Narasi nodded, crawled over to the cupboard to pat Gizmo's head, and then, groaning like an eighty-year-old, struggled to her feet and limped toward the bunks.

"Can I have my lightsaber back?"

Narasi realized she still had Zaella's weapon on her belt beside her blaster, opposite her own. She hesitated, but Tirien said, "No. Not yet."

Zaella crossed her arms, eyes narrowed, and Tirien took the curved weapon from his own belt. Zaella flinched back, raising her hands in surrender, but Tirien only held his lightsaber up. "This is no more than a weapon to the Sith, but to the Jedi, a lightsaber is a symbol. Not just of our authority as Jedi Knights, but of our reverence for life—that we understand and respect the power of life and death that it represents, and that we commit to using that power responsibly, if ever.  It's a sacred trust Jedi carry, and that kind of trust is earned, not merely given.  When you prove to us that we can trust you, then you may have it back, and not before."

Zaella screwed up her face, and Narasi had no idea what response was brewing, but Tirien didn't wait for one. Returning his lightsaber to his belt, he pulled off his robe, folded it up, and stretched out on the deck, using the robe as a pillow. Narasi plodded toward the bunk, glad that she was on the lower one; kicking off her boots, she curled up on her right side, wincing as she stretched the burned skin on her left. Zaella circled wide around Tirien, apprehension all over her face; Tirien was already fading, but Zaella all but hugged the wall until she got to the bunks, and Narasi realized with a start that Zaella was afraid of him.

She propped herself up on her good arm and said quietly, "He's a good man. The best man I know."

"I didn't ask," Zaella bit out, but it seemed like a reflex. When Narasi only settled herself back down, Zaella pulled herself up onto the top bunk. She hissed—probably bumping her lekku into the wall, Narasi thought—and after a moment her boots dropped to the deck, one after the other. Zaella moved around much more than Tirien ever did as she tried to get comfortable, but Narasi only endured about a minute of it before the endless day finally dragged her down into sleep.