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Stars were nothing but white streaks while the Ebon Hawk was in hyperspace. Revan—she could still hardly believe that was her —stood looking out the viewport with her arms crossed tightly. There was a kolto patch on her arm, and she was sure Juhanni would want to take a look at the gash on her forehead. At least it had stopped bleeding.
Revan walked out to the main hold, her footsteps sounding more like a kasta drum than the soft patter they should have made.
Mission was standing at the center console, her bright blue lekku falling forward over her shoulders.
“Hey Mission, is Carth—” Revan started.
Cutting her off, Mission didn’t even raise her head. “He was in the ‘fresher, but the Leviathan drained out all our water. Pretty sure he’s in the med-bay.”
“Thanks Mission…”
Revan continued past the girl, who thumbed away at her datapad and toward the med-bay. She momentarily paused just out of the room’s line of sight. Things were—tense right now, at best. She didn’t know what she was walking into.
She could had reached out with the Force to sense Carth’s presence. To prepare herself for how he might respond to her. Of course, maybe she wouldn’t get anything from him. Maybe they wouldn’t get a resolution until Malak had been dealt with. But, then again, if they failed, she wouldn’t get a resolution at all.
Carth stood in the middle of the small med-bay, his back to her. He was in the middle of applying a kolto patch to his bare chest when she interrupted him.
Revan didn’t need to reach out with the Force to feel him tense up. She could see it in the muscles of his back. He didn’t turn to face her, but he knew she was there. And there was something on the tip of his tongue.
“Yes? What’s on your mind?” she asked, hoping to prompt him.
Carth grimaced. “...Never mind.”
It didn’t take a protocol droid to translate. Revan caught his meaning and started backing away.
“You got it,” she said.
Carth caught her hand as she turned and pulled her back in the room. She hadn’t seen him out of uniform before. His arms were muscular—fine hairs running along his forearm. They stood up when he was angry. His strong chest rose and fell amidst heavy breaths. His deep, brown eyes looked harshly at her.
“I want to hate you. Blame you for everything you’ve done. For my wife...Dustil...Telos…”
“But we saved Dustil—”
“—I’m not finished.”
Carth’s grasp on her wrist tightened and she pulled away, scowling at him. She crossed the small space over to the hospital bed and sat down. They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to span decades before she let her gaze soften.
“I can’t—I can’t do it. I don’t know. Saul is dead, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. Bastila, after lying to all of us for months, sacrificed herself for us, for me, for you. ” He looked crazed, but somehow Revan could feel him easing on her. “And she left me here to deal with you. To deal with the dark lord of the Sith.” And then he wasn’t.
“Carth, I’m not her. Not Anymore. I’m not the woman who brought ruin to your home.”
“You are,” he started, “and you aren’t. Maybe you don’t remember, but you’re still Darth Revan.”
“Formerly Darth, now just Revan,” she cooed.
“Dammit, Revan!” Carth slammed his hand against bulkhead, causing more harm to his hand than to ship itself.
“Everything alright in there?” Mission yelled.
“Yes!” Revan and Carth called back in unison.
Carth held his hurt hand and looked at Revan like if he destroyed her, all his problems, all his insecurities would vanish. But they both knew this wasn’t true.
“I won’t let you destroy the Republic,” he said.
“Carth, my loyalty—”
“No. My allegiance is to the Republic,” he reminded her. “To democracy.” His hurt hand trembled. If he became any angrier, Revan worried that he’d vibrate out of existence.
She stood and took his trembling hand into hers. “So is mine.”
Her soft touch seemed to take his edge off and he calmed down. His expression softened and his breathing slowed. She closed the distance between them—still far enough to escape, just in case he wasn’t sure or—
“Revan?” Carth whispered in a low voice.
“Yes?”
“Is that what you want me to call you? I mean, I guess it’s your name. But then there’s the one the Jedi Council put in your head…”
...Along with a lifetime of fake memories.
“Revan is fine.” She smiled at him and raised her free hand to his face, gently cupping the side of it. She brushed her hand against his scruff and he looked at her with an expression that could have set the galaxy ablaze.
Carth’s mouth began to open as if he were going to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, he just reached for her, his free hand finding her hip. She let her forehead fall against his, her hand falling to firmly grip his shoulder.
“We’re enroute to Kashyyyk. To find the last starmap,” she whispered, inches from his mouth.
“How long?” He asked, referring to the length of their journey.
“Two days,” she breathed. “I might just go crazy on this ship.”
Carth chuckled, his voice low and affectionate. “I might have a few ideas on ways we can pass the time.”
“Do you now?” Revan pressed herself against him, needing to be as close as possible to him.
“One or two,” he murmured as he moved in to gently kiss her neck.
Revan bit her lip and moved back. “Not here,” she said.
Carth nodded and pulled away from her, toward the hallway. She readjusted her robes and followed him out toward the main hold, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible.
Mission saw right through them.
“Geez Carth, put a shirt on!” the Twi-lek called out as they walked to the port dormitory. “Hey guys, it’s a small ship, I just want you to know we can hear everything and I do mean everything . So save it until we reach Kashyyyk, okay?”
“Hey kid, why don’t you go see if Teethree needs help in the uh, uh, the cargo-hold,” Carth suggested.
“Smooth one, flyboy,” Revan whispered, throwing a smirk in his direction.
Mission groaned and headed that way. “I’m not going there because you told me. I’m going because you guys are gross. And I’m not a kid!”
The port dormitory seemed empty without Bastila around, but in a way, Revan was glad she wasn’t here now. Of course, she wished she was on the ship, but she didn’t want anyone needing her right now besides Carth.
Carth looked at her. She looked back. For a few moments, nothing happened.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere Carth said “I hate sonic showers.”
“What?” she asked, perplexed by the spontaneity of his comment.
“Saul drained all the water from the ship when we were on the Leviathan, ” he said. “So instead, the shower in the ‘fresher turns into a sonic one. Y’know, the kind with the ultrasonic vibrations that has dirt literally vibrate off of you.”
“Oh.”
“They use them in the navy. More cost-effective, I guess. I just never liked the idea of my whole body vibrating , you know? Just...too…”
Revan chuckled, stepping close to him. “Exciting?” She put one hand on his chest and allowed the other to rest against his hip—her thumb dipping below his waistband, gently tracing the skin there.
Maybe out of instinct, or maybe out of desire that had been long suppressed, Carth reached for her, pulling her closer to him.
He spoke honestly in her ear, “I think I could love you...if you give me the chance.”
Revan smiled against his cheek and gently kissed the line of his jaw.
~