with,” Revan explained. “If we bring a homicidal assassin droid with us, I don’t think they’re going to give us much of a chance to explain why we’re there.”
“We’re a little short on bodies,” Canderous repeated. “What about that other Jedi who helped you during the war? Not Malak. The one they call the Exile.”
“Meetra,” Revan said.
“I heard she and the Council had a falling-out.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“Might be worth tracking her down,” Canderous pressed. “She proved herself during the war.”
Revan wasn’t sure how much Canderous knew about Malachor V and the mass-shadow generator. The mission report was sealed away in the Jedi Archives; he might have no idea that she had lured thousands of his fellow soldiers into a trap. It was also possible he was fully aware of Meetra’s actions, and respected her even more for making the ruthless but tactically brilliant decision to sacrifice thousands of her own people to achieve victory. In either case, Revan didn’t want to get into the tragic tale of Meetra’s banishment and her severance from the Force.
“She may have had a falling-out with the Council, but she’s still a Jedi,” he lied, doing his best to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt for his role in her ultimate fate.
“So who’s that leave, then? You, me, and this half-sized bucket of bolts?”
Canderous gave T3 a playful kick with one of his heavy boots. The droid beeped angrily in response.
“Don’t forget Bastila,” Revan added.
“I thought you wanted to leave the Jedi out of this.”
“She’s my wife,” Revan answered. “I’m not going to abandon her.”
“Hey, it’s your call,” Canderous said, holding his hands up defensively. “She’s welcome to come along. I mean, if you really think you can convince her that heading to the Outer Rim to explore Rekkiad’s frozen wastelands is a good idea.”
“Well,” Revan said with a shrug, “we never did go on a honeymoon.”
BASTILA WAS SITTING in the living room when he got home, watching holovids while she waited for him to return. Revan wondered if she’d been waiting long.
He hadn’t told her where he was going, and he hadn’t told her about sending Canderous off to investigate the Mandalorians—he just hadn’t seen any point in worrying her if there was nothing she could do to help. Now that they had a plan, however, he was eager to share it with her. He just had to be careful how he explained it all.
“Sorry,” he said as he crossed the room and bent down to give her a kiss. “I didn’t know I’d be so late. You shouldn’t have waited up.”
“That’s okay,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him down onto the couch beside her. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Still holding his hand, she turned to face him. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said.
“Me, too. Big news.”
“I bet mine is bigger,” she said with a faint smile.
“That’s a bet you’d lose,” he warned her.
“I’m pregnant.”
Revan was stunned into silence for several long seconds. When he finally managed to speak, all he could say was, “Okay, you win.”
REVAN COULDN’T BELIEVE he hadn’t noticed Bastila’s pregnancy earlier. Though there were no visible physical signs of her condition, it should have been obvious. The instant she’d told him, he’d clearly sensed the life growing inside her through the Force.
“I must be getting senile in my old age,” he said, caressing her still-flat belly.
“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Bastila reminded him. “And you haven’t been sleeping much.”
It was still too early to tell if it was a boy or a girl, but it didn’t matter to Revan either way. He and Bastila were going to have a child; it was the happiest day of his life. There was just one small problem.
“Talk about bad timing,” Bastila murmured, echoing his own sentiments.
Once he’d gotten over the joyful shock of her news, he’d told her about his meeting
“We’re a little short on bodies,” Canderous repeated. “What about that other Jedi who helped you during the war? Not Malak. The one they call the Exile.”
“Meetra,” Revan said.
“I heard she and the Council had a falling-out.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“Might be worth tracking her down,” Canderous pressed. “She proved herself during the war.”
Revan wasn’t sure how much Canderous knew about Malachor V and the mass-shadow generator. The mission report was sealed away in the Jedi Archives; he might have no idea that she had lured thousands of his fellow soldiers into a trap. It was also possible he was fully aware of Meetra’s actions, and respected her even more for making the ruthless but tactically brilliant decision to sacrifice thousands of her own people to achieve victory. In either case, Revan didn’t want to get into the tragic tale of Meetra’s banishment and her severance from the Force.
“She may have had a falling-out with the Council, but she’s still a Jedi,” he lied, doing his best to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt for his role in her ultimate fate.
“So who’s that leave, then? You, me, and this half-sized bucket of bolts?”
Canderous gave T3 a playful kick with one of his heavy boots. The droid beeped angrily in response.
“Don’t forget Bastila,” Revan added.
“I thought you wanted to leave the Jedi out of this.”
“She’s my wife,” Revan answered. “I’m not going to abandon her.”
“Hey, it’s your call,” Canderous said, holding his hands up defensively. “She’s welcome to come along. I mean, if you really think you can convince her that heading to the Outer Rim to explore Rekkiad’s frozen wastelands is a good idea.”
“Well,” Revan said with a shrug, “we never did go on a honeymoon.”
BASTILA WAS SITTING in the living room when he got home, watching holovids while she waited for him to return. Revan wondered if she’d been waiting long.
He hadn’t told her where he was going, and he hadn’t told her about sending Canderous off to investigate the Mandalorians—he just hadn’t seen any point in worrying her if there was nothing she could do to help. Now that they had a plan, however, he was eager to share it with her. He just had to be careful how he explained it all.
“Sorry,” he said as he crossed the room and bent down to give her a kiss. “I didn’t know I’d be so late. You shouldn’t have waited up.”
“That’s okay,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him down onto the couch beside her. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Still holding his hand, she turned to face him. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said.
“Me, too. Big news.”
“I bet mine is bigger,” she said with a faint smile.
“That’s a bet you’d lose,” he warned her.
“I’m pregnant.”
Revan was stunned into silence for several long seconds. When he finally managed to speak, all he could say was, “Okay, you win.”
REVAN COULDN’T BELIEVE he hadn’t noticed Bastila’s pregnancy earlier. Though there were no visible physical signs of her condition, it should have been obvious. The instant she’d told him, he’d clearly sensed the life growing inside her through the Force.
“I must be getting senile in my old age,” he said, caressing her still-flat belly.
“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Bastila reminded him. “And you haven’t been sleeping much.”
It was still too early to tell if it was a boy or a girl, but it didn’t matter to Revan either way. He and Bastila were going to have a child; it was the happiest day of his life. There was just one small problem.
“Talk about bad timing,” Bastila murmured, echoing his own sentiments.
Once he’d gotten over the joyful shock of her news, he’d told her about his meeting
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