A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed for their comments. I may write a similar story for another character if I continue to get good reviews.

Part 2

As the months went by, Bastila began to see less of Revan. He was absorbed in his own studies, and as her knowledge of the Force improved, she found herself needing his help less often. Nevertheless, he still took an interest in her, enquiring after her whenever they met. "I hope you haven't tried to run away lately, Bastila?" he would tease her, and these days she was able to laugh at the memory of her silly behaviour. It seemed like an age ago, now...

When Revan turned 18 his Master, Zhar Lestin, applied to the High Council for permission to enter his pupil in the trials for Knighthood. "There's nothing more I can teach him," he told the Council. "He's extremely mature for his age and years ahead of most of the others in his studies. What he needs now is more experience." His request was eventually granted, and although Revan was one of the youngest Padawans ever to undergo the trials, few were surprised when he passed with flying colours.

Malak, only a year older, soon followed his friend through the trials. Bastila attended the ceremony where the two were officially granted the rank of Jedi Knight, thinking how noble Revan looked as he knelt there in his ceremonial robes, and felt a surge of pride to think that she was his friend. The effect was only slightly spoiled when, as he talked and laughed with his friends after the ceremony, she heard him joke, "Well, at least now I can get a decent haircut!"

Not long afterwards, Revan and Malak left the Academy. It was decided that they were too young to take on their own apprentices, and that they should first spend a few years assisting some of the other Jedi in their work around the galaxy. Bastila missed her mentor badly at first, but at length she became reconciled to no longer having him around. She had other friends, and as time went on, many other matters to think about.

........

It was to be over three years before she saw Revan again. Hearing about him was a different matter; he and Malak were quickly making a name for themselves, and tales of their exploits soon began to spread throughout the Order. Once, Bastila was eating in the dining hall when the word 'Revan' caught her ear above the buzz of conversation; she looked up to see a group of Masters sitting at a nearby table, deep in animated discussion.

"...apparently he practically took over the whole operation," Hestra was saying. "Master Orine seemed very impressed." She smiled at Revan's former Master. "You must be very proud of him, Zhar."

He shrugged modestly. "It would have been hard to fail with Revan. Getting him to learn wasn't the problem, it was getting him to stop. The number of times he came to me with questions I could hardly answer myself..." The others laughed sympathetically; many of them had had similar experiences with the young Padawan.

"Well, he certainly seems to be a natural leader," remarked Quatra, one of the younger Masters.

"Oh, he's that all right." The gravelly voice belonged to Vrook Lamar, a well-respected but somewhat humourless man of middle age, and one of the few Masters who had never really got on with Revan. "He's going to be trouble, that one. You mark my words..."

........

It was a warm summer day a few months before Bastila's sixteenth birthday, and she had just finished a long combat training session with Hestra. As she left the training room, she saw Velda and a few other girls standing in the corridor, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. "What's going on?" she asked, approaching them.

"Why don't you go and find out for yourself?" Velda waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the courtyard.

Bastila hastened off, wondering what it was they were making such a big secret of. As she hurried down the corridor, she barely noticed the young man walking the other way until he suddenly stopped in front of her. "Bastila? Bastila Shan?"

She looked up in surprise and delight at the familiar voice. "Revan!" Her first instinct was to rush up and hug him, but then she realised that such behaviour would hardly be appropriate at her age. Instead, she stopped where she was and dropped a hasty bow.

Revan strode forward and caught her arm, pulling her up. "Hey, don't start bowing to me, for Force's sake! I'm not a Master yet." He released her arm, stood back and looked at her for a moment. "Well, you've certainly changed. I hardly recognised you."

She blushed and lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling very shy. She'd forgotten how handsome he was; or was it just that she had never noticed before? "Why have you come back to Dantooine?" she asked, trying to cover her embarrassment.

"For a rest." For a moment she thought he looked a little uncomfortable; then he abruptly changed the subject. "So, how are your studies going? Have you chosen where you want to specialise yet?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm going to be a Sentinel." She drew her lightsaber so that she could show him the yellow blade she had so carefully constructed.

"Good choice," he grinned, and suddenly it felt just like the old days.

They walked together through the valley close to the ancient ruins, enjoying the warmth of the early evening sun. For some reason Revan seemed disinclined to speak, and they proceeded largely in silence, listening to the cries of the birds wheeling overhead. Finally, as they reached the banks of the river, he stopped and looked around him, breathing in deeply. "Dantooine," he murmured. "It's good to be back here. I've missed this place..."

Bastila found she could no longer resist the urge to question him. "What have you been doing while you were away?"

"Oh, lots of things," he said vaguely. "First I worked with some of the regional governments in the Outer Rim, trying to close down the slave-trading routes used by the Exchange. Then I helped set up some camps processing refugees from systems that had been attacked by the Mandalorians. Trying to get enough supplies to feed them, and find other planets that would take them..."

He sighed, and fell silent again. Bastila felt a slight tremor in the Force, and looked over at him with concern. Although the connection that had formed between them as she trained with him had weakened over the years, she could clearly sense that he was unhappy about something. "Revan, is there something wrong?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Then he sat down in the long grass by the riverbank, leaning against a rock, and motioned her to sit beside him. Finally he spoke quietly: "You asked why I came to Dantooine?" She nodded. "Well, if you really want to know, it's because I wanted to avoid the High Council. I'm not on very good terms with them at the moment, Bastila."

She was puzzled. "Why? I heard that they were very pleased with your work."

"It's not that that's the problem. It's just that we have some... differences of opinion, shall we say. About the worlds being attacked by the Mandalorians, for instance..."

Bastila had heard plenty of discussions about this herself. "You think the Jedi should get involved?"

"Yes, and the Council doesn't agree." He broke off a stalk of grass and twisted it in his hands. "I met with them on Coruscant to discuss it. I reminded them that we're supposed to consider all life sacred, and asked them if they consider these people to be a lower form of life because they're outside the Republic's jurisdiction." He grimaced. "That didn't go down too well, as you can imagine."

"But I thought they said it was too dangerous..."

"Dangerous?" He looked around at her sharply, his face darkening with anger. "Don't you think it's dangerous to sit there and let the Mandalorians increase their strength until they're ready to attack the Republic?" Suddenly his voice was laden with venom. "They're like cancer cells, Bastila. You've got to risk the operation or they'll spread, and devour everything and end up killing you anyway. You've got to wipe them out before it's too late –" The blade of grass snapped in his hands, and she stared at him in dismay, startled by the sudden flash of hatred in his eyes.

"Revan, you shouldn't talk about people as if they were a disease!" she protested, almost frightened. "Didn't you just say that we're supposed to hold all life sacred?"

"What?" For a moment he looked astonished at being challenged, then his expression changed to one of annoyance. "Look, Bastila, I don't think you're really in a position to lecture me about what I should or shouldn't say. You're hardly more than a child, after all –"

She turned away from him, bitterly hurt, trying to conceal how much his words had stung. "If I'm just a child then why are you even bothering to talk to me about it?"

He sighed heavily, suddenly looking very tired. "Look, I'm sorry," he replied, in a somewhat calmer voice. "I didn't mean to say that, I really didn't. But listen, Bastila, you have such a sheltered life here, you just don't have any idea... If you'd seen some of the things I have..." He shook his head and fell silent, rubbing one of his hands across his forehead.

Bastila turned back and looked at him, shocked by the distress in his voice. "Revan, I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." Instinctively she laid a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him. He did not react, and continued to gaze into the flowing water, lost in his own thoughts.

They sat there, motionless, until the sun began to sink towards the horizon. Eventually Revan took her hand, squeezed it, and then stood up abruptly. "Come on, we'd better get back to the enclave before people start wondering what we're up to." He helped her to her feet, and they slowly made their way back towards the enclave.

........

"Well, you certainly seem very friendly with Revan," remarked Velda as Bastila walked into the recreation room where some of her friends were gathered, still thinking about what Revan had said to her. "Just what were you two doing out there all that time?"

"What? Oh, don't be ridiculous." Bastila rolled her eyes.

"Ridiculous?" Velda smiled slyly. "Come on, I've seen the way you look at him. You blatantly have a crush on him, Bastila."

"Well, doesn't everyone?" called out one of the others. There was a chorus of giggles.

Bastila reddened and turned to them in exasperation. "I do not have a... a crush on Revan!" she hissed. "Look, he used to help me with my lessons when I was younger, all right? That's all. We're just friends." The laughter was even louder this time.

"'Friends'. Right," smirked Velda. "Please tell us about it, Bastila... Do you think he returns your affections?"

With an effort, she kept her voice calm. "No, I don't think he returns my affections, because I don't have any affections for him to return! And even if I did, I'm sure he wouldn't care. He's six years older than I am, what could he possibly want with me?"

"Oh, come on," scoffed Velda. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

This was too much for Bastila. Blushing furiously, she stormed out of the room. Running footsteps followed her as she marched down the corridor, and she turned to see her friend Liane coming up behind her.

"Bastila, you shouldn't let things get to you so much," she pleaded. "You know what Velda's like. Why do you always let her get under your skin like that?"

Bastila thought about her friend's words as she walked towards her room. She had always been overly sensitive to teasing - the Masters had warned her about it again and again – but she had believed herself to have got the better of such emotions, by and large. So why was it that Velda's comments had annoyed her so much?

The thought stole treacherously into her mind: could it be that there was any truth in what Velda had said? She shook her head; it was ridiculous. Of course she didn't have a crush on Revan. Just because he was good-looking, and powerful, and she felt a slight flutter in her stomach every time she thought of him, and... oh, no...

She groaned, flinging herself down onto her bed. Of all the people to have a crush on, why did it have to be him? She could imagine how he would laugh at her if he ever found out... could he have guessed already? She thought back to her flustered reaction when she had first seen him. Yes, surely he must have noticed something – especially given the Force connection between them. How very, very stupid he must think her...

She lay back on her pillow, wondering what to do. Jedi were not supposed to have such thoughts; the tenets of the Order strictly forbade romantic relationships, especially between fellow Jedi. She briefly considered going to her Master for advice, before deciding that it would simply be too embarrassing. No, she would simply have to try and rid her mind of any such ideas. She closed her eyes in meditation, trying to sink into the Force and empty her mind of any and all thoughts. Especially thoughts of Revan.

Oh, damn...

For the rest of Revan's stay she avoided him as much as possible, afraid that her behaviour would give away her feelings if she were to speak to him. The evening before he was due to leave, however, she was reading in her room when she heard a soft knock on the door. She opened it, and her heart skipped a beat as she perceived Revan standing in front of her.

"Hello, Bastila," he said before she had a chance to speak. "I'm sorry to disturb you; I just wanted to say goodbye." He looked worried for a moment. "You're not still upset about what I said to you last week, are you?"

"Oh... no, of course not." She relaxed a little; he must think that was why she had been avoiding him. "Well, goodbye then, Revan." She was about to bow when she remembered that he didn't like it; instead, feeling a little awkward, she held out a hand.

"Goodbye." He took her hand and, to her astonishment, gently pressed it to his lips. Then he smiled at her, and before she could react he was briskly walking off down the corridor, his robe streaming behind him.

Bastila was still gaping after him, her face burning, when she heard a faint, mocking laugh behind her. She swung round to see Velda standing in her doorway, eyebrows raised. The girl smiled knowingly at Bastila, then turned back into her room and closed the door behind her.

........

The year afterwards, the Mandalorians launched their assault on the Republic.

The news that the Jedi Council had decided not to lend their support to the military effort split the Order in two. While the majority of the Jedi Masters agreed with the decision, arguing out that the Order had been too badly weakened after the war with Exar Kun, many of the younger Jedi were utterly furious. They argued that the Jedi had sworn to protect the Republic, and that to abandon it now would be tantamount to treason. Others pointed out that if the Republic fell to the Mandalorians, the Jedi were unlikely to last much longer.

In the midst of the heated debate, the news broke like a bombshell: the Jedi Knight Revan, whose fame was spreading rapidly throughout the galaxy, was to lead his own army against the Mandalorians in direct defiance of the Council's orders. Malak was quick to declare his support for his old friend, and soon the Republic's airwaves rang with the speech Revan had given on Coruscant, imploring other Jedi to come and aid him in his quest. Charismatic and passionate, he soon had thousands of recruits flocking to join him – among them Padawans, Knights and even Masters.

Bastila watched the proceedings with increasing concern. Unlike many others, who scoffed at the idea of a 22-year-old upstart like Revan as a military leader, she did not doubt his ability to lead an army. But she was troubled by the Council's warnings of the dangers that lurked in unknown space beyond the Outer Rim, and she felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding when she thought of Revan venturing out there. Velda felt differently; despite her youth and her Master's pleas, she was determined to join Revan's army. She had just turned 18, and there was little anyone could do to stop her.

When Revan came to Dantooine looking for recruits, Bastila again contrived to stay out of his way. Once, however, she saw him in the distance talking to Velda, and suddenly felt a completely irrational stab of jealousy. After a while he looked over at her, but she quickly turned and walked away, pretending not to have seen him.

Later that day she saw Velda again. "Not coming to join us, Bastila?" she asked, a curious smile on her face.

Bastila shook her head uncomfortably. "I don't think it's a good idea, Velda. We've had so little training and besides, we're too young..."

Velda raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Well, you may be." She walked away.

........

The years went by, and the war slowly began to turn in the Republic's favour. Revan and Malak were winning victory after victory, rising quickly through the ranks of the Republic's military forces. Revan in particular was proving to be a brilliant tactician, capable of outmanoeuvring even the best of the Mandalorians, and even the Council started to wonder if their fears had been unfounded.

Bastila, however, soon had other things to think about. Leafing one day through a book on advanced Force techniques, she came upon a description of a powerful ability known as Battle Meditation. Normally achievable only after years of training, it could be used to strengthen the will and resolve of combatants in a battle, from a single fighter to – in the case of the most powerful Jedi – an entire army. And as she read the description of how Jedi could channel the Force through themselves to give renewed strength to their allies and sap that of their opponents, she came to a sudden realisation...

Hestra was skeptical when her Padawan showed her the book and timidly explained that she thought she might be capable of Battle Meditation. When Bastila demonstrated her abilities during a pre-arranged duel, she changed her mind. The young girl was taken to Coruscant and subjected to weeks of testing and exercises, carefully scrutinised by members of the High Council. After a long discussion, the Council announced that she was to be trained in Battle Meditation.

Despite this, they were keen to keep her away from the front lines of the war, at least for the moment. The training was long, difficult and emotionally draining, and the use of such enormous amounts of Force energy could be extremely dangerous for anyone who did not know how to control it properly. Besides, Bastila was still a Padawan, and her Master did not consider her ready to face the trials. "She still needs to learn to control her emotions better," explained Hestra to the Council. "The last thing we need is for her to fall to the Dark Side."

Bastila spent nearly a year training in different parts of the galaxy. She learnt quickly – so quickly that her Master became worried that she was overstretching herself. After her 20th birthday, Hestra insisted that she return to Dantooine to take a break from her training.

When she finally arrived back on Dantooine, Bastila suddenly understood how Revan had felt all those years ago. It was such a relief to be able to rest, to forget about all her duties and responsibilities, if only for a couple of months. She had missed her friends, and the familiar surroundings of the Academy; here, she finally felt that she was back home.

........

It was night, a night that would haunt her for years afterwards. For some reason she was having trouble sleeping; she felt restless, and even meditation did not help her to calm herself. Finally she lay back and gazed up at the ceiling, hoping that she would eventually drop off to sleep if she stopped trying to think about it.

Suddenly she sat bolt upright. She had felt a disturbance, a distinct tremor in the Force... She turned on the lamp beside her bed and stood up, shivering a little in the cool breeze that drifted through from the open window. Pulling her robe around her, she crept to the door and listened. Was that the faint sound of footsteps she could hear in the distance?

Yes, definitely footsteps, slowly making their way down the corridor towards her room. And now she could feel it through the Force, an immense presence – whether hostile or not, she couldn't tell – gradually drawing closer and closer. She shuddered, and wrapped her robe more tightly around her.

The footsteps were very close now. They slowed slightly as they approached, and then ceased altogether, seemingly just outside her door. There was silence for a moment, and a sudden, unbearable tension, as if something was hesitating...

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, she summoned all her courage and flung open the door. What she saw almost made her cry out in terror. In front of her stood a tall figure, cloaked entirely in a black, hooded robe – except for a hideous red mask which covered its face. The apparition's hand was raised in the air, as if it had been about to knock on the door.

Her saber flew into her hand in the space of an eyeblink. Before she even had a chance to ignite it, however, the figure grabbed her by the wrist. "It's me, you idiot!" The voice, even behind the mask, was unmistakable.

"Revan?" She stared, frozen in shock, as the figure pulled down the hood and removed the mask to reveal the face of her old friend. Suddenly the power of movement returned to her and she grabbed his sleeve, pulling him inside the door and quickly shutting it behind them. "What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, her relief at seeing him rapidly turning to anger.

"What, on Dantooine?" He pulled off his cloak, and she was relieved to see that he still wore his Jedi robes underneath. "Well, actually I – no, it doesn't matter. I came here to see you."

She glared at him, still furious. "And you couldn't come in the day like a normal person, rather than creeping around in the middle of the night dressed as a Sith Lord?"

He shook his head, and she noticed for the first time that his face, while as handsome as ever, looked pale and strained. "I'm not supposed to be here, Bastila. No one even knows I'm on Dantooine, except Malak. I didn't want anyone to recognise me if they saw me..."

"Well, good job making yourself look inconspicuous." She sank down onto her bed, still feeling somewhat shaky. "Why did you want to see me, anyway?"

He relaxed a little. "Well, I know this isn't exactly the best time or place to ask, but I'd like you to come and help us defeat the Mandalorians."

She stared at him. "Why? Why now? I thought you were winning."

"We are winning." He sighed, suddenly looking a lot older than his twenty-six years. "But the Mandalorians are getting desperate – they know it's the beginning of the end for them, and they're throwing everything they've got at us. I'm losing a lot of men." Suddenly he looked directly into her eyes. "We could really do with your help, Bastila. I've heard about your Battle Meditation – you could save so many lives..."

"Oh." She looked down, her heart sinking. "Revan, I... I'm very sorry, but I really can't. It's too dangerous –"

"Dangerous?" He blinked in surprise, misunderstanding her. "Look, Bastila, I won't let anything happen to you. You wouldn't even have to go near the front lines –"

"I'm not a coward, Revan!" She was indignant. "What I meant is that I haven't finished my training. The Council would never hear of it. Besides, Master Hestra tells me I still have to beware of the Dark Side –" He snorted. "It's not something to be taken lightly, Revan! You should be more careful!"

"Oh, don't you start on about the Dark Side as well!" he burst out. "Honestly, you're as bad as the Council! I hardly think I need advice on the Dark Side from a Padawan, thank you very much!"

Suddenly she was angry. Who did he think he was, talking to her as if she were still a child? "No, I suppose you don't. You seem to be doing a good job of discovering it for yourself –" She regretted the words the instant they left her mouth.

"Oh. Oh, I see." He folded his arms in front of him. "You think I'm falling to the Dark Side, is that it?"

"No, I – look, Revan, I didn't mean it like that." She felt close to tears. "It's just that... you've taken on such a reponsibility, Revan. It's too much for anyone, even you..."

"Well, someone had to do it," he muttered. "And since the Council refused, who else was there?" Suddenly his face was wracked with exhaustion. He flopped down onto the bed, bent forward, as if crushed under some invisible weight. "Oh, Bastila..."

Her heart ached as she looked at him, and suddenly she badly wished that she could take her words back. "I'm sorry I said that, Revan. I really am." There was a long, awkward silence. Finally he sighed, looked up and gave her a weak smile, which she returned.

"Why do we always end up fighting like this whenever we meet?" he asked plaintively.

She laughed, feeling a little more comfortable. "Well, if you will insist on taking offence every time I give you some friendly advice..." He snorted, but declined to comment.

Suddenly a thought struck her. "Revan, how did you find out about my Battle Meditation? I didn't think the Council had told many other people."

He waved a hand vaguely. "I have ways of finding things out. I heard you were being trained... and then I thought..." He paused for a moment. "That fight I had with Guun Han Saresh all those years ago. You remember?" She nodded. "I always thought there was something strange about that. It was you helping me, wasn't it?"

What was the point in denying it now? "Yes, it was me."

"I knew it!" For a moment his eyes lit up in triumph. "And you never let on, either... What a strange child you were, Bastila." He shook his head, looking faintly amused. "You'd have done anything for me back then, wouldn't you?"

She laughed again. "Yes, I suppose I would. But I'm not a child any more, Revan..."

"No. No, you're not." He looked up at her and smiled. "You're a woman. A beautiful woman."

Her face flushed and she looked away, embarrassed. "Revan, don't say that."

"Why not? You are beautiful." He reached out and touched the side of her face, gently brushing her cheek with his fingers. Her skin tingled at his touch, and she felt a curious sensation in the pit of her stomach, a mixture of fear and pleasure.

She turned her face away slightly. "Revan, you mustn't..." He lowered his hand to his side and turned away, looking faintly disappointed.

"I see." He was silent for a moment; then suddenly, to her amazement, he smirked. "Your friend Velda was a lot more accommodating than you are, you know that?"

She gasped with fury. Her hand lashed out at his face before she even realised what she was doing, but it never connected. He seized her arm and forced it down to her side, pulling her against him. "Hey, calm down," he murmured into her ear. "Of course I didn't do anything with Velda, you stupid woman. I just wanted to see if I could get a reaction out of you." He smiled down into her angry face. "So you do feel something for me. Come with me, Bastila."

"Revan, you –" She struggled angrily, but he only held her more tightly. It was no use, she realised; he was a lot stronger than her, and she had no desire to use the Force against him. "Please let go of me," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"I mean it, Bastila." Suddenly his face was deadly serious. "Come with me. Help us defeat the Mandalorians." His voice grew softer. "If anyone can stop me from falling to the Dark Side, it's you..."

"You know I can't." Her voice was almost pleading. "You know it's impossible..."

He slid his fingers through her hair, gently tilting her face towards his, and she felt a shiver run through her whole body. "Why?" he whispered. "Why is it impossible?"

"I've told you. The Council..."

"Sod the Council." His lips were perilously close to hers, she could feel his breath against her cheek. She could almost taste the power of the Force that swirled around him, and suddenly she felt a longing that nearly overwhelmed her. Wild thoughts ran through her mind: she could run away with him, flee on board his ship; she could fight alongside him, and keep him from the Dark Side... But as she gazed up at him she could see the dark fire that blazed in the depths of his eyes, and she knew in her heart that he was too strong, that if he fell he would drag her down with him –

"What is going on here?" The icy voice cut through her thoughts. Revan let go of her so suddenly that she almost fell backwards. Standing in the doorway was Shaela Nur, a young Knight who slept in the room next to Bastila; her face was white with anger. "Revan, what are you doing here?"

To Bastila's surprise, Revan remained calm. "Hello, Shaela," he said quietly. "Long time no see."

"I asked you a question, Revan."

"Well, if you want to know, I was asking Bastila to join the fight against the Mandalorians." He turned to her. "Isn't that right, Bastila?"

"I see." Shaela's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And is this the usual way you get recruits for your army? Seek out Padawans and try to seduce them?" She shook her head. "I'm amazed at you, Revan. Defying the Council is one thing, but I never thought you'd sink as low as this."

His voice was smooth as silk. "Bastila happens to be a friend of mine."

She snorted. "Oh yes, very 'friendly' you looked there. I suppose you realise that if I tell the Council about this you'll be thrown out of the Order?"

"Why don't you do that, Shaela." She looked at him in surprise. "And while we're there we can discuss your 'friendship' with Duron Qel-Droma, perhaps?"

She reddened, temporarily silenced. Revan bent over and picked up his cloak and mask. "Well, I'm afraid I don't have all night to talk." He turned to Bastila. "Are you coming, Bastila?"

Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I'm sorry, Revan."

"I see," he said coldly. "Well, then, I guess we probably won't be seeing each other again." He stepped towards the door, pulling his cloak around him. "May the Force be with you, Bastila." His voice rang with bitterness.

"May the Force be with you," she murmured, but he was gone.

She stood there for a moment, motionless, staring after him. Tears stung her eyes and she realised that she was shaking. Shaela put an arm around her. "Are you all right, Padawan?"

"Yes, I... I'm fine..." She turned to the older girl. "Shaela, please don't tell the Council about this. I don't want to get Revan thrown out of the Order..."

Shaela threw up her hands in exasperation. "Fine. Fine, I won't tell anyone." She sighed. "If Revan's determined to fall to the Dark Side, I doubt even the Council could stop him. Anyway, I'm going back to bed." She swept out of the door. "Goodnight, Bastila."

Bastila lay down on her bed, exhausted. The tears were coming faster now, streaming down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her pillow to stifle a sob. Suddenly she realised just how close she had come to abandoning everything she had – her Master, her friends, her training – for a dangerously uncertain future.

"If Revan's determined to fall to the Dark Side..." She shuddered and curled herself up tightly, pulling the covers around her. How could she have allowed herself to become so infatuated? Now she saw why love was forbidden, why they had constantly warned her to be on guard against her emotions. A Jedi could not allow herself to feel these things, it was too dangerous...

From now on, she resolved, she would follow the Code to the letter. There is no emotion, there is peace... She would never allow any man, any other person, to affect her like that again. There is no passion, there is serenity... As for Revan, she would forget him. She had to forget him.

If only she could stop wishing that he had kissed her...