Archive of Our Own

Carth woke up to find the other side of the bed empty. Again.

He slid his hand over. Cold. He glanced at the chronometer. It was just after two. She'd only gotten three hours of sleep, tops. He laid there, listening for anything that wasn't the hum of the atmospheric regulator. Nothing. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He could afford to sleep in tomorrow morning. He rolled out of bed.

He padded softly into the main room and found it empty. The kitchen, likewise, was empty, although the evidence that she had been there lay scattered among the tea things. That left the study.

He carefully edged around the wall. She had left the door open, which was her unspoken way of saying he was welcome. Or rather, that she was not so upset that she needed to shut the rest of the world out.

He leaned his forearm against the door frame and studied her. The tea was still steaming in its metal mug, and she and the mug were floating above the ground. He saw a second mug on the workbench, and then he saw it lift off the workbench and float in his direction. He captured it between his hands and drank deep.

She landed gently on the floor and looked up at him. “Come in. Pull up a bit of floor.”

He grimaced as he lowered himself beside her. “You know, we have a bed. Perfectly nice place for a conversation. Much less cold. Much softer.”

“Much worse to spill tea in bed, though. Especially considering how startled you were the first time I meditated in bed.”

“You try waking up to a terrifying figure floating above you and see how calm you are.”

“You say the nicest things. Did I wake you this time?”

“No.”

“Liar,” she said, her tongue peeking between her teeth as she smiled. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” he said. “I like being awake in the early morning. In fact, I think it should be the new trend.”

"Who says it's not? Perhaps you're just behind.”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” he admitted. They grinned at each other, and then their grins slowly faded into solemnity. She looked into the mug of tea in her hands, as if searching for something in the swirl of steam. Carth cleared his throat.

“Do you – do you want to talk about it?”

She glanced up at him then back to her tea, fighting a smile. “That sounded painful.”

“I – uh – I don't want to seem like I'm prying, but—”

“You've earned the right to pry, Carth,” she said evenly. “I'd rather you ask than go crazy wondering. I mean…crazier.”

“Ha. Ha,” he intoned. He swallowed and looked at a point on the wall behind her. “I don't know what falls under Normal Jedi Behavior and Troubling Jedi Behavior. I don't know if I should be worried about early morning meditation or insomnia or floating spinning things. And I don't know if I need to tell someone or even who I need to tell if…” She didn't let him off the hook by finishing his sentence. “If it becomes troubling.”

She looked at him kindly, with no trace of annoyance. “I don't really know if I can be normal. Not anymore. I don't even know what normal for me is. I've given myself a headache trying to think about where the decisions I make come from, and whether what feels natural to me is from who I am now, or who I was then. So I think…you have to ask. And I have to be okay if the person you ask is not necessarily me. Although I hope you do ask me first.”

“Okay.” He considered her for a moment. “Why can't you sleep?”

“Just – dreams. Again. Still. I suppose it was foolish to think that they'd go away at some point.”

“Anything in particular?”

She got a far-away look in her eyes. “Sometimes, I – I dream of. Things. Terrible things. Things I've done or let happen or enabled. And it makes me worry. About the things I'm not remembering. And I know I'm not that person anymore, but the person I am now worries because….” She took in a steadying breath. “Because those things I did had consequences. And have consequences and will have consequences. But the more I try to remember the more it inevitably slips away.”

He caught one of the loose curls of her hair and tugged gently. “Whatever it is – whatever may happen – we'll figure it out. We'll fix it. We can't change the past, but we can learn from it.”

She smiled softly. “I know. I'm glad you're here with me.”

He stood and offered her his hand. “Come back to bed, beautiful.”

“Okay.”

It was impossible to fight with her. His first marriage had been full of blood-pumping fights: why had she moved his chair while he'd been deployed, why was he voluntarily leaving them again, why won't he help her plan this vacation. It wasn't that there was love lost between Morgana and him, but it was the way they had learned to disagree.

The first time he'd come home after a bad day at work, he had been itching for a fight. He snapped at her at every turn, and when he wasn't snapping at her he was caustically sarcastic. And every time she replied calmly, she joked, she defused the moment. Until finally he whipped around and said, "Why the hell won't you fight back?"

She met his eye steadily and said, “I can't.”

She might as well have knocked the wind out of him. He scrubbed his hands over his face and felt wretched.

“I have to be calm, Carth. I have to measure everything I do against the Code. I…I won't say I can't be any other way, because that's categorically untrue, but. I can't be any other way that allows me to be with you, Carth.

“You and me, what we're doing here, it's not forbidden. But it's highly discouraged for a reason.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

She considered him, then took his hands. “It's okay.”

“You're leaving.”

“Yes.”

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Of course, Carth.”

“But you're going without me.”

She nodded. “I know you're angry.”

“Damn right I'm angry! You're off on some mysterious mission to who-knows-where, on your own, and you don't know when you're coming back!”

“Carth—”

“And don’t try to tell me it's for my own good. Being with you is for my own good.”

“Carth—”

“Why does it have to be you, anyway? Isn't this what the Council is for? Don't you think we've already made enough sacrifices in this galaxy?”

“Carth!” she cut through him. He stopped, startled. She hadn't shouted at him since the war.

“What I'm doing. Where I'm going – the Council, they've—” He could see the tears shining in her eyes. “Please, believe me. I—” She choked on the words. “I don't want to go.”

“But you have to.”

She met his eyes. “I really have to.”

He sniffed loudly, trying to hide his own welling tears. He reached out and crushed her to him.

“Be safe. Please be safe. I'll do what I can for you from here.”

In an infinite moment they stood there, in the place they had made their home, clinging to each other in desperation and dread and love. In some ways they are still standing there, even after the inevitable moment she pushed away from him and gathered her things. She looked back at him once.

“I love you.”

“I'll be waiting for you.”

“You don't have to—”

“I'll be waiting for you.”

“…okay.”

All of the things she wanted to say to him caught in her throat. She memorized everything she could about him in this moment – the hair in his eyes, the soldier's stance, the hard line of his jaw. Before she could change her mind, she left. She heard him rush out the door to watch her go, and she forced herself not to look back. To look back would be the undoing of all of it.

Carth waited for seven months. He attended briefings and worked to make their military strong without being oppressive. He helped the reconstruction of Telos. He supported Juhani as she rose to prominence in the Senate, introducing sweeping legislation to actually begin fighting the systemic racism of the Republic. He had frustrating meals with Bastila, who would only be cryptic about his partner's mission and the reasons why Bastila hadn't been allowed to go with her. His eyes scanned the violet skies, as if he could spot her or his son coming back to Telos. The news of her returning hadn't come from the skies, but from a message from Mission on his commlink.

“Carth? It's Mission. We need you to meet us in Docking Bay 12. Right now.”

He hailed a transport to the Transit Yard and made it in time to see the Ebon Hawk touching down. He stopped himself from rushing the docking ramp, but it was a near thing.

Zaalbar was carrying her in his arms, an anxious Mission behind him. Carth felt his throat go dry.

“[She's alive. She needs a med center,]” Zaalbar growled.

Carth flipped open his communicator. “This is Captain Onasi, designation Alpha-Tau-Omega. I need immediate transport from Docking Bay 12 to the nearest med center.”

“Acknowledged, Captain. Transportation is on its way.”

He grasped Mission by the arms. “What happened?”

“We were – on Jakku. And she – and then Zaalbar—”

“Breathe, Mission.”

“There was this place, it was really dark, and she went in, and then she didn't come out for a really long time so Zaalbar went in to find her and then he didn't come out for a really long time and then he came out with her and she looked bad and she's breathing but she hasn't woken up—”

“It's okay, Mission. She's going to be all right.” I hope, he added mentally. "Let's go with her to the med center. I've got to let the Council know she's back.”

Getting to the med center was a blur of keeping Mission calm, which distracted Carth from his own panic. The Council said they would send one of their Masters to the med center, presumably in case the damage was Force-related. Once they got to the center, healers surrounded her and left Mission, Zaalbar, and Carth outside, the door only opening once to allow Master Vandar to enter. Hours passed. Mission fell asleep, exhausted, against Zaalbar, who kept a silent vigil. Carth drank five cups of caffa and paced agitatedly. Finally, Master Vandar emerged.

“She is out of danger. She needs to rest, but first she would like to see the three of you.”

Zaalbar roused Mission, and the three of them crept softly into her room. She was propped up by some pillows, and she looked small and pale even against the cramped white medical cot. Her attempts to smile were thwarted by a wince as she reached out to Zaalbar with one frail hand. He took it between his two massive paws.

“Zaalbar,” she said. “You have always acted valiantly in my service. You have proven yourself worthy to lead your people time and again. You came into that cave at great risk to yourself, and I would not be alive without you.” She tried to smile again, with more success this time. “You saved my life, and you have fulfilled your Life Debt to me.”

Mission whooped. “Did you hear that, Big Z?”

Zaalbar whined quietly, “[What I did does not repay what you have done for me.]”

"I'm telling you it does,” she insisted. “I will always consider you my friend, but I would rather us be equals. I saved your life, and you saved mine.”

Zaalbar considered her solemnly for a moment. “[Thank you. It has been an honor to serve with you.]”

“Same here, Zaalbar. I look forward to seeing where your future takes you. Take care of Mission.”

“Hey! I don't need to be taken care of! In fact, I take care of Big Z more than he takes care of me!”

“I know, Mission,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Keep taking care of Zaalbar. I'm sure our paths will cross again.” She pulled Mission into a gentle hug. “Now clear out of here. I need to talk to Carth.”

“Sure, talk. I get it.”

“Aren't you always telling us to get a room? Get out.”

Mission and Zaalbar turned to leave. “Jeez, Big Z. You save one galaxy and all manners go out the window.”

Carth closed the door after them, and then leaned his head against the door. He couldn't face her just then.

“Carth—”

“Just – no,” he cut her off, waving a hand in her direction. “I don't want to hear it. I'm this close to losing my temper, but it's bad form to shout at the injured.”

“I deserve it.”

“You're damn right you – wait, what?” he stopped, flustered.

“I deserve everything you're about to say to me. That it was stupid to go off alone. That it was stupid to let Mission and Zaalbar stay with me, after I'd discovered they stowed away. That it was stupid to stay in that place after the minute I touched down and realized what was happening. Carth, I deserve it. After everything I've done, you should never stop shouting at me.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he shushed, finally turning and rushing to her side. “Stop, stop that.”

“I thought it was going to be fine, because surely the Council wouldn't have sent me on some reckless fool's errand, but then I got there and it was worse than they thought it was and I should have just pulled out but people were dying and I—” She crumpled down into the cot and looked at him wretchedly. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“You've got nothing to apologize for, okay? We're okay. C'mon.” He started to climb into the cot with her, and she helped him navigate a place to sit around all the kolto tubing. Their legs tangled together as they both leaned against the pillows, facing each other.

He carefully brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “Tell me what happened.”

She had been sent to Jakku to check on something they called a wound in the Force. She was supposed to see how it was affecting the indigenous life and report back. Mission and Zaalbar had stowed away on the Hawk, and she had only discovered  them after it was too late to go back.

“Besides,” she said. “It was a scouting mission. The Council assured me I'd be fine.”

“You said before you didn't want to go…”

“I had this feeling that it was all going to go wrong, before I headed out. The Masters said it was just anxiety over the mission, to keep to the Code and I'd be fine. But they…they didn't realize how deep the wound in the Force ran. It was seeping into and past the nearby villages. There was this rash of suicides, all across the northern region. The local Elders thought it was typical of the season – there's often an increase around this one part of the calendar year. But the Elders hadn't been speaking to each other; they didn't realize how many suicides there had been. It was like they couldn't see the numbers, like they couldn't understand the breadth of the problem. I had the conversation so many times, and they wouldn’t remember.” The tears filled her eyes again. "There was this one family, they knew something was going on with one of their sons, and I kept talking to him and trying to persuade him out of it, and then talked to his family and tried to make sure he wasn't left alone, but they…and he…”

Carth reached for her hand and she gripped it tightly. “I realized I couldn't leave, because something about when and where I was in this…pocket of the Force meant that I could see it, but I was afraid if I left that I wouldn't be able to see it. So I kept looking, and finally I figured out that everything was emanating from this one cave. I asked Mission and Zaalbar to keep watch while I explored inside.

“It was the source of the wound. I didn't understand until it was too late. I can't…explain what happened. I just…couldn't leave. I tried, but I couldn't. And then I started to remember things.”

Carth froze. “You mean—”

She drew away. “I think I remember what happened on Malachor V, Carth.”

“You know that's not you anymore, right?” he said pleadingly. “Whatever you did back then, it's over.”

“It's not over,” she growled, and the room seemed to crackle with energy. And as quickly as the shadow had fallen, it passed, and she seemed more tired than ever. “Please just…stay here.” She curled her hands into his jacket and nestled her head against his chest. “I'll get past it, but right now—”

“I'm not going anywhere,” he assured.

He felt her heave a deep sigh. He tangled his fingers into her curls and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Tell me what you've been doing while I've been gone,” she said, the words muffled.

“Okay,” he said.

He kept talking long after she fell asleep.

She didn't think he knew, but he did.

She came out of the med center with an obsession. She spent hours in the Jedi Temple, scouring the Great Library for records on Malachor V. The Jedi had purged many of the records to do with Revan, but now she had enough information to draw conclusions. He came home more than once to find her slumped over her datapad, asleep, the reference texts thick and inscrutable and spread over the workbench.

One night he awoke to an empty bed, and when he peeked inside the study he saw her floating in a maelstrom, every item in the room swirling around her, the air crackling like it had that day in the med center. He commed Bastila, who rushed over and closed the door to the study in his face. When Bastila and his partner emerged sallow and shaking hours later, he made sure to have a word with T3 about not letting her go alone.

He shouldn't have been surprised, the morning he woke up to a datapad on her side of the bed. But he still was.

It wasn't nine years of nothing. He worked and worked and suddenly he was an admiral. After the first time Dustil visited twice a year. The third year he visited he brought with him a fine young man named Kaze, who made his son's eyes go soft whenever he spoke. They were married in a small ceremony, and two years later they adopted one of the war's many orphans. Carth started visiting them every year for the Equinox.

He still wakes up in the night and slides his hand over to her side.

"We've had a transmission, Admiral. From the Exile."

"Confirmed?"

"Her codes check out, sir. At least from her last transmission three years ago. And it's marked as urgent."

"What's the message?"

"Coordinates, sir. Some place in the Outer Rim, Esstran sector."

"Where?"

"Dromund Kaas."

"I thought that was a myth."

"We're still making the hyperspace calculations. It may take some time."

"Hail the Jedi Council. I'll answer it in my personal chambers."

"Understood, sir."

"Admiral Onasi. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Transmission, Master Vandar. From the Exile. She's sent us coordinates to Dromund Kaas."

"Dromund Kaas? Are you certain?"

"As certain as we can be, without going there. I'd like to take a small reconnaissance group to check out its validity. It may end up being a wild bantha chase."

"And if it is not a wild bantha chase?"

"I have to try, Master Vandar."

"I know, Admiral. In fact, a few members of our Enclave have already sent word that whatever mission Carth Onasi is embarking upon, they would like to go to."

"This is some weird Force thing, right?"

"I leave you to your conclusions.  They will be on their way to you. May the Force be with you all."

"Onasi out."

"This is not a reunion tour!"

"Mission and Zaalbar are already on their way. You're not doing this alone, son."

"It could be nothing."

"It could be something far worse."

It was almost like old times; Jolee boring everyone with his stories, Bastila lecturing about the ways of the Force, Mission and Zaalbar carrying on, Juhani quietly observing this or that. They talked loudly about everything that wasn't the task at hand; it was never discussed that they might find her, that they might not. Carth tried to make himself believe that all he was searching for was a body to put to rest, an end to years of wondering.

The minute they stepped out, all the Jedi stiffened. "This is a tainted place," Juhani hissed.

"Reach out with your senses," Bastila murmured. "Do you feel that? It's almost—"

"Almost," grumbled Jolee. "But it's a long way to knowing. Follow me."

They followed Jolee's lead through lengths of rainy swampland. They were cold and wet through and they battled a sleuth of swamp wampas, but no one talked of making camp. In the mid-afternoon, Jolee raised a hand.

"Listen," he commanded.

Voices speaking Basic echoed beyond them. Carth made motions to turn back and retreat to higher ground, but no sooner had they walked several steps than five black-clad figures with lightsabers emerged from the trees.

"What have we here?" asked one. "Republic scum?"

"And three little Jedi far from home," said another. "Are you lost, little Jedi?"

"We mean you no harm," began Bastila, and all five laughed.

"Too bad," said the first one. "We do."

Fighting broke out. Carth was happy to note that all had kept up with their training, because though the five strangers rained down a flurry of blows, they all emerged none the worse for wear. They continued into a clearing, where they saw one figure standing alone, a hood masking his face, wearing the same black robes as the previous five.

"Down you go!" Carth cried, and fired several shots from his blaster.

The figure raised a hand, and all three shots froze in midair.

"Whoa," breathed Mission.

The figure raised his other hand, and suddenly neither Carth nor his companions could move a muscle.

The figure moved deliberately toward them, lowering his hands but not releasing any of his prisoners. The being weaved around the blaster bolts as if they were harmless people in a crowd, until he drew up before the group.

"Well, well, well," rasped a low voice. "Interesting."

The figure began to circle the frozen group, looking them up and down as he spoke.

"I imagine the others are dead, yes? Pity. They showed such promise. Though clearly not, if they were taken down by the likes of you."

"Sorry for the inconvenience," Bastila said through a clenched jaw.

He chuckled. "Apology accepted, Jedi.

"I wonder," the voice continued, "what brings you all to this part of the galaxy. Are the Republic bearing down on us as we speak? Might we soon expect to elect representatives and join committees? How exciting," he said drolly. He stopped in front of Carth and seemed to study him. "No," he breathed. "You're here on some…foolhardy mission of reconnaissance, I suppose? I would expect that there's only one Republic ship in nearby space, and she's here, on this very planet." He looked off in the direction Carth's team had come. He sighed.

"I'm feeling quite…lazy today. You understand. Pupils murdered, paperwork to do. So I'd like to avoid any unpleasantness. How about you go back to your ship and leave this planet, and I'll forget I ever saw you."

"Like you won't kill us the minute we turn our backs," Carth grit out.

"I could kill you where you stand, if I had no qualms about killing fairly. Which, to be clear, I don’t."

"Then why let us go?" asked Jolee.

"Are you so eager to die, old man? Don't answer that. I can see you're the kind with a story for every question. Listen very carefully. Leave, now. Don't let me find you again. I won't be so merciful next time."

He raised his hands and let the bolts free, destroying a tree behind him.

"Go." He sent his hands towards them and pushed them back through the trees. They landed hard far from the clearing.

They stood and brushed themselves off, gingerly checking for broken bones and bad scrapes. Carth had a cut on his temple which wasn't deep but bled badly, and Mission had sprained her wrist in the landing.

"Now what?" asked Jolee.

"I say we make for the Ebon Hawk," proposed Bastila. "Then make our way back a different way tomorrow."

"What about—" Carth started to say, but then the world went dark.

"Um," Mission said. "I thought night wasn't for a few hours yet?"

And that was the last any of them heard before unconsciousness took over.

Carth awoke with a sense of déjà vu. Holding cell again, stripped down again, but this time the location and company were different. He looked around and saw the Jedi all awake, murmuring quietly to themselves. Bastila caught his eye and raised her voice a bit louder.

"Force cages," she said. "We've been cut off from our powers."

"Have you seen anyone?"

"Not since waking."

Carth muttered a curse. "I hate these things."

"Yes, it rather brings up some bad memories, doesn't it?"

They stopped talking as the door opened, and two entered. One was the black-clad figure who they'd met before in the swamp, who was trailing with his head bowed. The other was an old man with red eyes and a commanding presence. When he spoke, he had a cold melodious voice.

"Welcome, Jolee, Juhani, Bastila, Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar. You are my guests; I hope you will make yourself at home. Are you comfortable?"

"Incredibly," Carth shot back.

"You have us at a disadvantage," Bastila said. "You know our names, but we don't know yours."

"I know a great deal more than your names, child. More than you could possibly imagine. But yes – my apprentice is always reminding me about manners. My name is Emperor Vitiate, and I rule Dromund Kaas, as well as our little…Academy beneath the surface. Now – what brings you to our humble planet?"

None of them said anything.

"Shy, are you? I understand. It's impressive meeting an Emperor, after all. Perhaps you'll be a little more talkative to someone you already know?" He gestured beside him.

The figure drew back his hood to reveal—of course, Carth thought. How could he have been so stupid. It wasn't a man at all.

"No!" Juhani cried.

"Hello, everyone," Revan said, smiling. "It's been a long time."

"Gwene?" shouted Bastila. "How—"

"It's Revan, now. Well, always has been, actually. I've just…come to terms with it, you could say."

"Revan has been an excellent pupil these past, what is it, six years?"

"Eight, Master," she said, pale eyes glittering.

Something about hearing "Master" in that low, rasping voice caused Carth to snap.

"I should have known," he said, laughing humorlessly. "After all this time, I should have known."

"Carth, you wound me."

"Don't you dare say my name with that face, Revan. I can't believe I…I mean, I thought you were…"

"My apologies, Master. You know how it is – away for a while, lots of emotional baggage to get through. Ignore him."

"I am far more interested in your Jedi friends, Revan. Bastila, as I remember, has already fallen once, correct?"

"Yes, my Master. But I think you'll find them all hard to crack. Once you're redeemed, it's much harder to fall again. You had a particularly difficult time with me, as I recall."

"Indeed. I think," he said, gazing around the room, "I shall make this your…project, shall we say? You've never had to turn someone of this caliber before. I shall give you, say, eight hours? For each year you've been with me."

"It will be done, my Master," she said, bowing. He swept from the room with nary a glance back for its inhabitants.

The shouting began almost as soon as he had ended. Zaalbar roared his displeasure, Mission couldn't believe it, Juhani snarled something Carth couldn't translate, Bastila swore Revan would be wasting her time, and Carth promised vengeance. Only Jolee looked at her thoughtfully and said nothing.

"Silence!" she rasped, and they all fell unnaturally silent.

Revan looked calculatingly across the room, muttering under her breath. Carth could barely catch the words.

"…yes, but how…oh…of course…and then…yes."

She looked at them with eyes that seemed brighter than before.

"You have to watch very, very carefully," she said, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Carth could see her dark brown eyes again, and the warmth had come back into her complexion. Then, as soon as the color returned, it reverted back to pale and grey.

She walked quickly to the lever and threw it. Pain coursed immediately through Carth's limbs, catching fire to his bones and releasing the scream from his throat. Then the pain was gone and he was pushed from the platform. Then the field went up again and the torture lever stayed down, but none of them were in their cages.

"Grab your gear, it's in the lockers to your left. I've bought us some time but it won't stop him for long." They stared at her blankly. "Now. Hurry."

They outfitted themselves quickly and took up arms. Then they followed her down narrow, vacant corridors. More than once she diverted students and guards by catching their attention with the Force elsewhere, until finally they made it to the hangar.

"It's all local transport, but you can make it to the Ebon Hawk with it. I'll hold him off for as long as I can."

"But—you're coming with us, right?" Mission said.

She smiled sadly. "I can't, Mission."

"He'll kill you, Revan," said Bastila. Then she paused. "You…already know that, don't you?"

"You have to go," she insisted, but Carth grabbed her arm.

"I'm not leaving here without you," he said.

"Carth," she said, her voice catching. She couldn't meet his eyes. "I have to—"

"You're damned anyway," he said. "You might as well be damned with us."

She looked at him with confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"If he's going to kill you anyway, come with us." He paused. "Come with me."

"I…fine," she said. "But you're driving."

"That's just what I've been hoping to hear after nine years."

They sped out on a tiny, cramped ship. Obstacles seemed to jump out of their path, which Carth thought was lucky until he glanced beside him and saw Revan with her eyes clenched shut. They drew up to the Ebon Hawk and clamored out.

Only to stop short at Emperor Vitiate descending down the ramp.

He clicked his tongue. "Revan, Revan, Revan. That was half clever, trapping their pain reactions in the Force cage. I will admit it threw me off for a moment. All these years, and you turn again just like that? I'm disappointed. Your will is weak."

"I never turned," Revan said.

"Lies," he hissed. "I could feel your anger, your hate—"

"My passion, victory in the Force, trampling the Light, yes, yes. You did feel that. But you forgot something. The same Nexus that shields you in the Force? Keeps the Jedi from feeling you? Clouds everything in the Light Side? It shields both ways."

"You are a fool—"

"And you're blind. You wanted me to be turned, like before. And I'm sure it felt like it did back then, when you turned Malak and me, all those years ago. But I have learned something you haven't in all your life. There is only the Force, and I mean to keep the balance."

"The Light has made you weak, my Padawan. Remember the taste of Power, the taste of the Dark!"

Vitiate threw out his hands, and Force lightning emanated from his fingertips. Revan caught it against her hands, not absorbing the lightning but reflecting it back. Vitiate cut the lightning off with a snarl, only to reach out again with the lightning. Again Revan forced it back at him, closing the distance.

"You should have left me alone, Master!" The lightning stopped. Vitiate reached out to throw the lightning again, but nothing happened.

"What have you done to me?" he snarled.

"Do you feel it?" she said, grinning madly. "Your power leaching out? That's the Light, Master. The Light flooding in and coming back to me."

"No!" he cried in horror.

"Yes," she said darkly, and then the lightning shot out of her palms and into the Emperor's chest. The Emperor screamed, and she doubled the lightning. Carth heard a crackling sound, and then the lightning stopped as Revan's lightsaber flew into her hand and she cut off the Emperor's head in one clean swipe.

There was nothing, and then there was a fwhoomp sound as Dark power exploded from the Emperor, leveling the swamp around them and blocking out the sun. And in the middle was Revan, her eyes turning pale again.

And just like that, it was over. Revan stayed with her back to them, breathing hard, red lightsaber still humming in her hand. Carth and Bastila glanced at each other, and then Carth moved forward.

"Revan? Beautiful? Are you…are you okay?"

The lightsaber snapped off, and she turned to him. He was relieved to see brown eyes and dark warm skin again. She smiled, and then she sagged into him. He caught her easily.

"I'm okay," she said, meeting his eyes hungrily. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"Don't make me do that again."

"I won't. That looked difficult."

"It was." Her smiled faded a bit. "You thought I had really turned."

"You were very convincing."

"Well, I had to be." She looked away. "I wasn't always able to get away with…I mean, I understand if you…I've had to do things—"

"That doesn't matter."

"Don't say it doesn't matter," she said raggedly. "It does matter. I've tortured people for real. I've had to kill people I didn't want to kill. I've learned to do things with the Force I don't want to know how to do. So don't tell me it doesn't matter, because it – it matters, Carth." She brushed tears angrily from her cheeks.

He regarded her quietly. "Let me take you home. We can figure it all out there. Just…let me take you home."

She leaned against him, surrendering. "Okay."

The main room in the center of the ship was deserted.

“Where is everyone?” Carth wondered.

“Giving us privacy,” she murmured. “Although they’re listening to see if you’re going to take me to your quarters or not.” She paused. “Mission’s bet Zaalbar 20 credits you do. Bastila disapproves.”

“How can you possibly hear all of that?”

“After a fashion,” she said, tapping her temple.

“Is this…new?”

“Temporary,” she corrected. “I’m still a bit…commed into the Force’s frequency, you could say.”

“That’s…”

“Terrifying? I agree. Now, are you going to earn Mission 20 credits?”

“Can’t you just read my mind?”

“I’m really trying not to.”

He hesitated, then made his way to his private quarters, carefully depositing her on the cot. She sat with her legs dangling, facing him.

“Carth—”

“Shut up for a minute.” He stared at her, drinking in her face with such intensity that she felt her face heat. Then he pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck. She hugged him back, one hand tangling in his hair and one stroking between his shoulder blades. He breathed out raggedly, and then he began to laugh.

“What? Carth?” she said, startled, but Carth continued to laugh, bordering on hysteria, his eyes watering and face turning red. She bit back a smile, and then laughter bubbled out of her as well. They clung to each other, laughing maniacally, until their lungs burned with exertion and stitches knotted in their sides.

The laughter subsided after a long moment, and they both got back their breath. Revan cupped the side of his face.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

He grasped her wrist and placed a kiss in the palm of her hand. “There were times – just for a moment – where I thought I might not either.”

“I shouldn’t have left like that,” she confessed. “I was selfish. I said I was doing it to make it easier for you, and I know now that was a lie. I was doing it to make it easier for me.” She brushed a few tears away.

 “So help me understand – why did you leave?”

“Because I remembered the Emperor. I remembered he turned Malak and me after the Mandalorian Wars, and that he was still alive. ”

“I get that. But why you? Why go on your own – after ditching Canderous – why put yourself in this position?”

“Because he had to be stopped—”

“You’re not answering the question I’m asking. Of course he needed to be stopped. Why did he have to be stopped this way. You, going onto a Dark planet, alone, with no one knowing where you were. Why not take a whole squadron of Jedi? If he’s a big enough threat, bring everyone you can to take him out! Do you think I send out one ship and say, ‘That’s all you need, let’s go’? No! I send out a fleet, and then we monitor the situation!”

“Do you think the Emperor would have been easy to kill? Throw enough Jedi at the problem and eventually they’ll get him? I’ve been wearing him down for years, Carth. I’ve been sabotaging his efforts, weakening him, making sure I’d one day be able to take him down!”

“He seemed to go down pretty easy today!”

“You clearly do not understand what I’ve been doing for nine years.”

“Then explain it to me!”

“Fine.” Revan bolted off the cot and glared furiously at the wall before turning to face him. “Your fleet metaphor doesn’t work,” she said. “It’s more like…if you needed a ship to infiltrate, to sneak past the enemy’s defenses, would you use a fleet, or would you send one small ship with an excellent cloaking device – maybe an enemy ship you had captured? I was the only person who could have gone. Maybe if I was able to turn Malak…that would have been ideal.”

“What about the Exile?”

“How do you know about the Exile?”

“I met her. She came out of—”

“She’s alive?” Revan interrupted.

“Last I heard. She sent us the message that gave us these coordinates.”

“She – what? Wait,” she said, closing her eyes. She reached out with her senses until she lit upon the Exile’s unique signature. “She’s still in the Commune,” she said. “She’s – taking advantage of the power vacuum, well done.” She opened her eyes, unseeing. “We need to go back – I need to convince her I haven’t fallen, for one. I can’t see much more. She’s shielding herself the same way I was, I can’t quite….” She shook herself and focused on Carth again. “I’m sorry. I don’t expect – the choices I made to leave the Council, to come back here, it was reckless. It could have gone terribly wrong. Actually, it did go terribly wrong. But—”

“Go back. How did it go terribly wrong?” He tread carefully. "You said before you had to…that you were required to…"

"Yes," she said quietly. "But it went wrong before that." She sighed heavily. “Do you remember those Force cages Malak was using to keep Jedi from becoming one with the Force? That he would use to…restore his Force energy, while he was fighting me? He got that from the Emperor. But…you don’t have to be…you can be alive while in one. He put me in there for…years.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It…I want to spare your feelings—”

“Don’t.”

“It was awful. I wanted to die, all the time. Of course, that meant he wouldn’t let me die. And it took me a while to feel anything but…pain. But then I realized that drawing so much Force from me, he couldn’t help but be changed by it. Not in big ways, but at least in his demeanor toward me. He began to believe me when I told him I wanted to serve him. The Force power he absorbed from me didn’t want to act against my life – the more he relied on it, the more he had to use his Darker powers to work his will.

“The Dark Side is stronger. But it’s not sustainable. It’s like stims, almost. They’ll boost you for a bit, but if you become addicted you go down harder. The glamour I used – pale eyes, grey face – it doesn’t reflect how your body is tearing itself up inside. The Force becomes tainted with how you use it. Look – it’s complicated. Let’s just say that the way I used the Force against the Emperor – it was just reflecting that Dark energy back. I can touch it now without myself becoming Dark from contamination. And I didn’t know I could do that until I did it. I thought if I could continue to influence him I could eventually overtake him. Which was…sort of true.”

“What were you waiting for, exactly?”

“The Force. I thought it would tell me when it was time to act. Which I guess it did, through you.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Carth, I don’t expect you to forgive me, or for you to forget all the pain I caused you. I don’t expect that…what I mean to say is…” She closed her eyes and spoke in a rush. “I know we can’t go back, but I just want you to know. I’ve never stopped loving you. And if you don’t want me to be part of your life anymore, I understand—”

Carth cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. She responded immediately, cupping her hand under his jaw. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

“We’re not done talking,” he rasped.

“I know. But, in the meantime—”

“Yes,” he growled, as he crowded her back against the cot and climbed over her.

They were both ten years older and many battle scars heavier. It shouldn’t have lived up to their expectations. But it did.

Cleaning out the Enclave took two weeks. Two weeks to reveal herself to the Exile. Two weeks for them to talk to every initiate. Two weeks to arrange transports off Dromund Kaas for those who remained. Revan considered it fortunate that there were many who were willing to appear before the Jedi Council. Too many had been misdirected by the Emperor’s instruction; perhaps all it would take was a nudge toward the Light to turn them completely. She could hope.

Those that remained would stay on Dromund Kaas forever. Revan, Bastila, Carth, Jolee, Juhani, Mission, and Zalbaar laid them to rest in the tombs beneath the Enclave. They were the last to depart from the planet.

“The Council wants to see you, when we return to Coruscant.” Bastila and Revan were sitting across from each other in Carth’s quarters. After all, they might as well have been Revan’s quarters. Bastila had nearly opened her mouth to ask Carth for some privacy, but she stopped. The thin tendril of the remaining bond between Bastila and Revan seemed to say, I won’t keep anything from him anymore.

“What did you tell them?” Revan asked.

“I told them the Emperor was dead, that we had found you, and that we’ve cleared out the Enclave and are on our way home.”

“I imagine they’re none too pleased with me.”

“You must admit,” Bastila said, “the first time you left the Council to pursue something you thought was right, it didn’t precisely turn out well.”

“Bastila, I’m always going to be Darth Revan to them. Even if I stayed on Dantooine, lived in the temple, mediated eighteen hours a day, and trained younglings, I will always be treated with caution by the Council.”

“Do you trust in the Council?” Bastila asked.

“I trust in the Force,” Revan countered. “I will listen to the Council’s wisdom, and I will heed their words, and often I feel their truth reflected in the Force. But I also must allow that people are fallible – that prophecies are misread, that seeds of fear cloud their judgment, that inaction can have grave consequences. I’m not saying it was right to leave, either time,” she said, anticipating Bastila’s argument. “I am saying that it’s become clear to me that the Council is not without motive. Sometimes they are too close to the situation and they miss obvious signs of…unrest.”

“The Dark Side—”

“—clouds all,” Revan finished. Bastila furrowed her brow. Revan could feel the prickle of irritation in Bastila’s mind.

“I’ve had my own – frustrations – with the Council, as well you know. When I turned, all I could think of was how foolish the Council had been, how much they had used me, how much they had been holding me back. Malak fed me those lies.”

“The reason they were so effective is because they were half-truths,” Revan argued. “The Council did use you for your Battle Meditation, because they needed it. They saw its advantages, and so they looked past – forgive me,” she broke off. “This isn’t meant to hurt you. You were a Padawan, Bastila – you were still learning. We don’t send Padawans out into the field. We don’t let them sit on the Council. Or teach students. But they sent you because in the end it served the cause they were fighting for. Which – Bastila, you saved lives. Who knows how many lives you saved. I know it’s full of contradictions – you were old enough to save the galaxy, but maybe not old enough to do it alone.”

Bastila regarded her. “Perhaps what you say is wise,” she said softly. “You have always been thoughtful, Revan.”

“My dear friend,” Revan muttered, taking her hands. “I will not put you in an awkward position. When we return to Coruscant, I will submit to the Council. I will listen to their judgement.”

And? If they rule against you?

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

Transcript of the Evaluation of Former Jedi Revan for Re-Admittance to the Jedi Council. Questioning led by Master Vrook Lamar (hereafter denoted as COUNCIL), to whom Masters Zez-Kai Ell, Atris, Lonna Vash, and Kavar yielded their questions and time. Transcription by Master Kavar.

REVAN: Sith Emperor Vitiate is dead.

COUNCIL: Jedi Bastila told us as much. You will explain to this Council how this was possible.

REVAN: Essentially…the Force balanced him out of being. Had there been an equally powerful agent of Light, it may not have been possible. As you well know, Masters: the Force craves balance.

COUNCIL:  We would argue that the Force craves nothing. It is merely the Force.

REVAN: It’s a personification. But Masters, can you deny that the Force tips toward Light and Dark in turn to achieve balance?

COUNCIL:  Please describe for this Council what happened to the Emperor.

REVAN: (Barely audible) I’m certainly endeavoring to.

COUNCIL:  Did you kill him?

REVAN: No. But by my actions, he did perish.

COUNCIL:  What actions were these?

REVAN: He drained my power – he leeched the Force from me into himself.

COUNCIL:  And this killed him?

REVAN: No. But, after many years, when he tried to kill me, his powers would not harm me. I…reflected them back.

(Mutters from those present. Master Vrook Lamar consults with the Council briefly.)

COUNCIL:  We have never heard of such a thing happening.

REVAN: It is my belief that no such thing has happened before. As such, I do not recommend it be tried with future Sith.

COUNCIL:  And why not?

REVAN: I do not know if such results can be repeated. Perhaps it was only the ordinance of the Force at this moment, at this time.

(Mutters again. Master Vrook Lamar consults with the Council again.)

COUNCIL: We are so advised. Thank you for your report, Revan. To the matter at hand: I suppose you want to be part of the Jedi Order again.

REVAN: If it is the will of the Force.

COUNCIL:  Are you willing to make the necessary sacrifices?

REVAN: What sacrifices are those?

COUNCIL:  Namely: that you once again submit yourself to this Council, and by extension the Force; that you engage in missions only and exclusively set by this Council; and that you end your relationship with Admiral Carth Onasi.

(Brief silence.)

REVAN: I was previously allowed to live with Carth Onasi.

COUNCIL: That was before you abandoned this Order for nearly a decade.

REVAN: So this is my punishment?

COUNCIL: We are simply eliminating prior allowances that were made for you. It's no longer appropriate.

(Brief silence.)

REVAN: Masters. I know very well we are never going to reach an agreement about Jedi and loving relationships.

COUNCIL: It is written in our very code. There is no passion—

REVAN: There is serenity. But love and passion are not the same. And if it were, the opposite of that wouldn't be serenity. I have often said that by reading passion as a strong, uncontrollable emotion or an obsessive focus, then it follows that serenity would be something to strive for instead.

COUNCIL:  The Teachings of Master Odan-Urr are the foundation of this very Order. Questioning them questions our entire reliance upon the Jedi Code. How can we be beacons of peace and truth across the galaxy if we do not follow the Code?

REVAN: Well, first, Master Odan-Urr also said, “Don't come to rely on the Force to the detriment of your other senses and abilities,” but I don't know of any intramural Jedi sports teams, do you?

COUNCIL: That's not what that text means—

REVAN: So you can interpret texts in more than one way, but only the ones that suit you?

COUNCIL: You make a mockery of these proceedings, Revan.

REVAN: Masters—! ...My masters, I sincerely apologize. I did not mean to belittle your beliefs. I only ask you to consider – I have not come by these feelings about passion lightly or easily. Hard as it may be for you to believe, I have sat for many years in meditation to ask for guidance from the Force in this matter. And I truly believe that the Force has led me to this interpretation of the Code.

But if you are equally trusting in the Force and have come to the opposite conclusion...I feel we are at an impasse.

COUNCIL: Is this your answer?

REVAN: It is. With the greatest respect, I must decline your offer to re-join the Order. Thank you for the second chance you gave me. I hope you do not feel it has been wasted.

MASTER KAVAR: Do you feel it has been wasted?

REVAN: No, Master Kavar. I do not.

COUNCIL: May the Force be with you, Revan.

REVAN: May the Force be with you, Masters.

Transcript Ends

When she slept, she remembered the pain from the Force Cages. When the dream dissolved, she woke in sweat and under a heavy chest and pounding heart, same as she felt when the Force Cage dissolved. Each night, it took her a moment to realize she was in a bed, with Carth, in Coruscant.

Except tonight Carth wasn't beside her when she woke. She slid her hand over. Warm. He couldn't have been up long. She didn't have to reach out with her feelings to find him. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see him. She pulled on her dressing gown.

He was on the balcony, leaning his forearms against the railing as he stared across the expanse. She stepped through the open entryway and drew up next to him, folding her arms over the railing. For a moment, Revan closed her eyes, enjoying the sounds of the city below and above her. She could hear the rattle of public transport, the soft whir of droids, and the murmur of pedestrians, to indistinct to tell apart. The confluence of urban sounds was comforting; on Dromund Kaas, silence was sinister.

“I don't know what's wrong with me.” Carth's voice was rough, and it jolted Revan from her reverie. She turned her head so she could see his face in profile. “I've been waiting for you to come back for – what feels like – forever. I held on, hoping you were alive, and that you'd come back. And now – you're here, and it feels like I should have everything I was waiting for, but somehow...it doesn't feel like everything.”

Revan opened her mouth, but her response died in her throat.

“Wait, that was a terrible thing to say. You're back – I'm happy about that – honest. I'm tired. Don't listen to me.”

Revan cleared the sorrow out of her throat. “No, it's fine. I know what you mean. I've been...working toward something for a while, and now that it's done I feel. Stranded.”

“Yes! Exactly! Stranded.” He sighed. “I suppose it's like after I killed Saul. I found purpose then in protecting you.”

“There's always been someone else to fight,” mused Revan.

 “So. What do we do.”

Revan considered. “You know what I miss? I miss those times on the Ebon Hawk that weren't about Malak or the Star Forge. I miss...investigating. Finding lost things. Helping people.”

“Collecting misfits. Interfering in gang politics. Helping girls get jobs as dancers.”

“Just so.”

The corners of Carth's mouth quirked up, but then he sighed and directed his gaze to the docks. “I have obligations. Just because—” He pressed his mouth shut, looking apologetic.

“Just because I've been kicked out doesn't mean you were.” She looked sidelong at Carth. “You don't have to spare my feelings. Truthfully, I don't know how to feel about it.” She looked down. “Or rather...I feel grief, but not in the way I thought I would.”

“Do you...regret staying with me? If you hadn't you could have – they would have let you—”

“No, Carth. No,” she said firmly. “I do not for one moment regret staying with you. I grieve for the life I could have had, if everything that happened to me hadn't happened. I grieve that I will never sit on the Council, or train a Padawan. But, to be honest, none of that was going to happen even before Dromund Kaas.” She closed her eyes and reach out. Reaching out in a city was different than reaching out in nature – she had to trail her mind up above the air traffic and ground herself deep into the earth. The Force didn't speak with words – everything she felt to be true she had to examine within and without emotions. It was the way of any Jedi – any Force user – who had ever trodden down a dark path. So it was not without conviction that she said, “There are plenty of people to help here in Coruscant. Enough for a lifetime.”

“A lifetime, huh?” Carth leaned into her, a solid, steady weight. “Sounds nice.”

And they looked to the horizon, where there was yet no trace of dawn, and remained until the first glimmer of light reached them.

THE END