Don't Change

They sat across from each other, for once, instead of practically on top of the other, as they usually did. One had her knees drawn up close to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs to keep them in place. Her hands clamped onto her wrists to keep from moving. Her chin was placed on her kneecaps, and she seemed intent on keeping the gaze of her dark brown eyes keenly focused on the ground.

He, on the other hand, lay on his back with his hands tucked under his head. One of his legs was crossed over the other, and twitched in the silence that followed between the two.

He wanted to keep talking to her, at least until they figured out what they were going to do about their situation. It wasn't like they had to worry about eavesdroppers; everyone was sleeping. It was one of the only times the two could get together and talk privately about the things that needed to be done. And the cargo hold was the most deserted place at night, so all they had to do was close and lock the door and move the barrels out of the way.

But she wasn't talking.

It looked like he would have to start tonight's conversation, just has he had the night before, and the night before that, and all five nights that they'd been rushing off to Nar Shadaa.

"When are we going to tell them?" He asked. She lurched slightly on the other side of the room, as if he breaking the silence had frightened her. She stared at him for a moment before answering like her usual self, sarcastic and tactfully blunt.

"I think we should tell them when we get to Nar Shadaa and we've already 'paid' the landing fee."

"Paid" probably meant she planned for Force Persuade the Toydarian who owned the landing docks into giving her money. Her view on Toydarians had obviously lessened since her time travels.

"Why then?" He asked her, a small smirk trying to play on his lips.

"So Bastila will get angry that we waited so long to tell her of this new Jedi Offense. I'm sure she'd want to have time to put it into record before shipping it off to the Council, or maybe Atris, or whoever she reports to these days."

"I don't think we should wait that long, Connan." Carth insisted. "That's five days from now."

"I know how long it'll be," Connan nodded.

"Don't you think everyone else will be a bit upset that you didn't tell them that we're technically married?" Carth argued. "And it would be a bit too mean to leave only Bastila out of the loop."

Connan didn't want to be cruel to her friend—dare she say it, best friend—anymore than was obligatory. After all, she had a reputation to keep up. Being a bit arduous and tricky was all well and fine, but she didn't want to actually hurt any of her friends. Messing with them was fine enough.

"All right, so maybe we won't wait so long." She shrugged.

"So when do you want to tell them?" Carth repeated the question. He sat up and stared at Connan. Her eyes were still a bit unfocused, as if her mind wasn't really on what they were talking about.

"If we're not going to tell them when we get to Nar Shadaa," she started, "I don't want to wait much longer. Keeping something like this a secret is like trying to hide your chocolate from Bastila. Fingers and minds will be lost if it's kept under the rug for too long for no reason, since they're going to find out anyway."

"So tomorrow then?" Carth asked after he finished laughing at the analogy. Connan shrugged.

"Sure," And with that her eyes descended to the floor again.

Carth growled. He ran a hand through his dark hair and stood, closing the distance between Connan and himself. She looked up at him, a slight bewilderment in her eyes as he knelt down and wrapped his arms around her.

"What's wrong?" He whispered. "You're distracted."

"No I'm not," She answered. She relaxed in his arms.

"Yes you are. I know you better than that." Carth leaned against the wall and sat her on his lap. "So what's wrong?"

"Well…." Connan frowned and bit her lower lip. "I was just thinking about the Chancellor."

"Chancellor Ishtar? What for? He's all the way on the other side of the galaxy." Carth squeezed Connan's waist. Connan leaned back on top of him slightly.

"Not that Chancellor, Carth." She growled. "You know who I'm talking about."

"Yes, I know who you're talking about." He nodded. "What about him?"

"I don't like him."

"That's a given."

"No, really." Connan turned around on Carth's lap to face him. She threaded her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. "I really don't like him."

"I know you don't," Carth rubbed her cheek. "So what's making you think about some guy four thousand years in the future?"

"I think he's the Sith Lord."

Carth must have misheard her.

"I'm sorry," He said. "I must have heard something else. I could have sworn you said 'I think he's the Sith Lord'."

"I did, yeah."

"What makes you think that, love?"

"Just a hunch." She shrugged. "But I've learned to trust my hunches more than my knowledge."

"What does your hunch say?" Carth inquired.

"Well, first of all, when I was there the first time—by myself, he called me the Time Traveler. No one but the Jedi Council, Quai Gon and Obi Wan knew that I was from the future, and the Jedi don't have to explain things to the Republic. There's no way he could have known unless he was the one to bring me there."

"Okay, that's one reason," Carth admitted. "Or he could have heard the Jedi Council talking about it. Politicians are good at using things they learn while eavesdropping—accidental or not—against other people. What's another motive?"

"It's someone inside the Republic." She said. "Because he told me he was already deep inside. He had to be someone inside the Senate."

"He could be a Jedi."

"Doubtful," She contradicted him. "He was talking about his Sith Master. Sith Masters don't like being in any kind of peaceful place with Jedi in it. They prefer to kill Jedi rather than to be nice to them."

"And another motivation?"

"I don't like him." Connan folded her arms together.

"You didn't like Bastila when she first started bothering you," Carth countered. "And now you two are friends."

"I didn't not like her; I just didn't like the people she associated with. Or her attitude. That needed a serious adjustment."

"Lucky she had you then, huh?"

"Oh, shush." Connan poked Carth in the chest with her index finger. "Anyway, it wasn't that I didn't like her, it's that she got on my nerves. But I really hate this guy."

Carth's mind did a double-take even though his face appeared emotionless. Connan didn't usually hate people. She didn't like them, she was annoyed by them, she even disliked people intensely, but she never hated people. It was unknown to her mind, unless your name was Malak, or maybe even Atris, if it was her time of the month.

"See?" She read the stagger his mind took. "I still think he's the Darth Sidious. Now that I think about it, he even sounds like the bastard, if he'd lower his tone a bit."

"Keep in mind you're the only one who's ever seen this guy, other than the people who keep trying to kill us." Carth explained. "I can't take 'he sounds like him' as a reason."

"Well, fine then." Connan shrugged. Then she yawned.

"Are you tired?" Carth asked, twiddling a lock of hair around his index finger.

"A little bit." Connan answered. She cast a look at the clock on the wall. "We've been sitting in here longer than usual."

Carth stood, picking Connan up with him. He carried her out of the cargo hold and into the dorm room they shared with half the crew.

"You like carrying me a lot, don't you?" Connan joked. Carth nuzzled his nose to hers.

"I can't ever get enough of it," He whispered as he set her down on her bed. "Get to sleep. I'll let you sleep in, if you want, so you can get a head start on annoying Bastila."

Connan beamed.

XXXXX

"Is she not up yet?" Bastila raved, pacing around the room. Carth laughed.

"Not yet," He answered, click a few buttons on the newly-fixed datapad to switch it to the next page. He'd gotten a hold of it before Mission could, so he could see if Connan had put anything about them being married on it. She had, actually, and Carth was suddenly glad he'd gotten a hold of the 'pad before Mission could squeal and tackle Carth and congratulate him.

"Can you wake her up?" Bastila barked. "She's been asleep for hours! She went to bed before the rest of us!"

"Did not," Connan snapped, wobbling into the room and rubbing her eyes. "I was up in the cargo room for a few hours after Candorous finally got smashed enough to pass out." She limped over to Carth and gracefully draped herself in the chair next to his. She laid her head down on the table and began snoring. "And if you could keep your voice down, I could have been asleep for a lot longer than I was."

"It's high time for you to be up, anyway. You were the last one to get out of bed." Bastila snarled. She placed her hands on her hips. "What are you trying to do to my nerves?"

"Oh, this is nothing, yet." Connan whispered. She looked around. "So everyone is already up?" Bastila nodded.

"Yes, they got up a few hours ago and started rummaging around for food, and getting me out of my meditative slumber." She answered. Connan nodded.

"Then you'd better bring them in here." She replied. Bastila raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?" She asked, obviously concerned.

"Nothing too serious," Connan cast a glance at Carth. "Just go get them, please?"

Five minutes later, the circular table was crammed with people. Mission sat on Connan's left and Carth on her right. Jolee was to the right of Carth, and Juhani seated herself on Mission's left. Bastila sat in between Juhani and Jolee, with her fingers kneaded together and her legs crossed at the knees.

Zaalbar was too large to sit at the table, so he was already going to stand. Next to him Candorous stood, rubbing his head to try and rid himself of the horrible hangover he had. The two droids stood protectively behind Connan, while Æliesha contented herself with lying on Connan's feet underneath the counter.

"What was so important that you had to call all of us into the same room together?" Candorous asked. "You haven't been attacked again, so there really shouldn't be—"

"Yes, well, we have some things to discuss." Connan answered. "And I thought it would be best if you all found out about it at the same time."

There was a silence as Connan allowed her words to wash over everyone, and they exchanged equally puzzled looks.

All but Jolee seemed genuinely confused about what was going to happen. He kept a keen eye on Connan and raised an eyebrow as she examined his expressions. His eyes asked the question he wouldn't voice, and Connan thought him worthy of a positive nod.

"Well," He said, suddenly smiling. "I can't congratulate you enough, though I could slap you over the head for taking so long with it."

"Oh, you wouldn't slap your dear lass, would you?" Connan joked. "I'm like a daughter to you."

"Even daughters need logic smacked into them sometimes." Jolee answered. Connan laughed. That was one Jedi, two more to go.

"Connan, what's he talking about?" Mission asked, elbowing her. Connan scratched the back of her head.

"Well, I don't think Carth told you about what we did the last time we were on Naboo in much detail," She explained slowly. Carth held back a small laugh at her timidity. He was sure the only one who would have a problem with it was Bastila. He knew people that well.

Connan, on the other hand, knew people but didn't all the same. She knew how they would act and react to situations; she knew what they would say and what they would do, and most of the time she could tell your personality from the first glance. But she held her friends in a high esteemed place in her heart, and she didn't want anything to upset those friends and make them go away from her.

"No," Carth was brought out of his thoughts by Juhani's accented voice. "He didn't say much about it."

"Well…." Connan coughed a little bit. "While we were there, we sort of had a little get-together with Anakin and Padmé. It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing, and since Anakin and Padmé were doing it and we've been a couple way longer than they have, we decided to do it, too."

It took a few seconds before the lights turned on in Mission's eyes, and her cheeks colored at the realization.

"Wait a minute," She started, holding a finger in the air. "Does this mean that you and Carth are—"

"Married."

Again silence. Then a huge explosion.

Connan was tackled to the ground by Mission, who had squealed—just like Carth had predicted she would—and hugged Connan tightly.

"Oh Force I knew you two would get married some day!" She screamed. "I can't believe it!"

"Mission, I can't breathe," Seeing as how Connan had just survived almost drowning, Mission gave her a break and got off of her.

"Congratulations, Connan!" Zaalbar exclaimed. "I wish both you and Carth a happy life together."

"And lots of little Onasi's, too." Candorous added. Carth turned red.

"Great! You'll be babysitter." Connan chided. Candorous growled.

"I get to be godmother, right?" Mission asked. Connan nodded and Mission threw her arms around Connan again, but refrained from dragging her to the ground.

"Congratulations to both of you!" Juhani declared. "What wonderful news!"

"Yes," Bastila added dryly. "You've broken yet another Jedi Code."

"So you're not happy for us?" Connan read Bastila's mind quickly. There wasn't any disdain for breaking a rule or two anymore; Bastila had probably long since stopped trying to change Connan, though it didn't stop her from doing her duty and reporting everything Connan did.

"No, I just—" Flustered for a moment, Bastila took a deep breath and recomposed herself. Her cheeks were a bright red, and it was seeping down her neck. "You could have done it when we were around, you know."

Connan raised her eyebrows, slightly surprised.

"I mean—" There was a silence now, as Bastila fought to find the words to describe what she was feeling. "No doubt you can tell I've given up trying to change you. I knew this was going to happen some day, but…." She frowned, as if she didn't want to say what she was about to say. "Well, all I'm saying is you could have invited your friends."

Glances of agreement were exchanged, but Connan's mind was on something else.

"You mean—" She had to stop for a moment so her face would stop smiling so largely that she couldn't speak. "You mean that you wanted to go to my wedding?"

"Yes, well, there can't be anything wrong with that, can there?" Bastila's face became redder, and she fidgeted in her seat. "What's that saying you always use to get under my skin? 'If you can't beat them, join them'? Well, I certainly won't join you in your robust rule-breaking ways, but I would have liked to see you two get married. You are my closest friend, and I would like to hold some honor in that."

For a moment Connan was stunned. It was a silent rule that everyone knew Bastila and Connan were practically best friends, but no one had the courage to state it aloud since they hated each other when they first met.

But the shock quickly left as she felt the need to ease her friend's disappointment in her. The others, too, were looking as if they were slightly saddened at not being able to witness the event.

"The problem with marrying in the future," She went on, linking her arm with Carth's. "Is that no one will believe a marriage license made in the year nineteen-thousand ten to be legitimate." She glanced around the room at the hope now springing in their friends faces. "So while the ceremony did take place and we did say our vows and such, technically, our marriage doesn't count."

Carth couldn't help himself. He took over.

"And since said acts can't be counted as legal," He added to Connan's earlier speech, "we can't be considered husband and wife until we do it right."

Mission giggled in excitement.

"What do you say, guys?" Connan asked. "Want to plan a wedding? We still have four or five days left until we hit Nar Shadaa."

The color seemed to return to Bastila's face, and she permitted a smile to grace her expression.

Suddenly, Connan wasn't the center of attention anymore. Everyone was talking with each other about what to do for the wedding.

"I get to be the bridesmaid!" Mission charged.

"No," Connan interjected. "That's Bastila's honor. You can be the flower girl."

"That's cool, too. Hey! Shouldn't we…."

"I may not be much help for the actual wedding," Juhani suggested. "But I do have a way with some Cathar instruments that were located on the Dantooine Jedi Enclave. If they're still there, or we can find others of the same, I could provide music." Connan nodded.

"I suppose you're going to stick me with some spot where I have to actually do something." Candorous rumbled, rubbing his head still.

"Actually," Carth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You should be my best man."

"Zaalbar will be the ring bearer!" Mission shouted. "I get to comb him! Finally!" She pointed a finger in the air triumphantly.

"Oh, no, not this again…."

"Psst," Jolee nudged Connan. "What about me?"

"You think you could be the priest?" Connan asked. She smirked and added, "I know it'll be a lot for an old geezer to remember, what with the speaking without a related story and all, but if you want the part…."

"Cheeky kid," Jolee laughed. "Yes, I'll perform the ceremony. I remember doing that a few times in my travels, I recall this one time where…."

Connan tuned him out, as always. She looked around the room, marveling at what she saw. Candorous and Carth were having a civilized conversation about what to wear. Mission was fighting with Bastila again. Zaalbar was trying to get Mission out of the fight. Jolee was reprimanding her with a smile on his face about how she never pays him any attention any more. HK-47 behind her was whining to T3-M4 about how bad this idea was to him. T3-M4, as usual, was sticking up for Connan and Carth, saying that it would more than likely work. HK-47 whacked the utility droid upside the head.

All this reminded her about how they used to act before the fall of the Star Forge, when tension always ran high between contrasting people, and even more so after Connan's identity was revealed. Now they were like a tight-knit family; one faction couldn't do anything without the support of the whole thing. She had forgotten that while she was away in the future.

Not the next time, though. The next time the Byssual came for her, whether it was the next minute or years from then, she would change that. She would make Anakin and Padmé understand how not one of the people on her ship were related, but they all acted as one family. With that, she would discredit Chancellor Palpatine—who she was pretty sure was more than he let everyone see—in Anakin's eyes, and more than likely save him from a very wrong direction to take in life.

Because the boy certainly did seem to be close to the Chancellor, she recalled. The last time she saw the two of them together, she could sense the bond that had been carefully forged over her ten year absence. The bond felt dangerous. It shouldn't be kept alive. That kind of bond could change things for the worse; it would destroy lives and sometimes—ways of life.

But a hand on her shoulder threw Connan out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Bastila staring down at her.

"What dark thoughts you're thinking of," Bastila sneered with a smile. "That's not healthy when there's a wedding to plan."

"Or a ship to pilot, or the Sith to look out for, or—"

"Your additional comments are not needed," Bastila tightened her hold on Connan's shoulder. "You're still a smart-mouthed brat." With that, Connan's bridesmaid turned and stomped angrily off.

Yup, Connan sincerely hoped nothing would change in their family.

XXXXX

Okay, so the opening chapter isn't that good, but I had to get the wedding out before I forgot about it again. Heh. Next Sunday they meet with Donella. Whoo! I somehow fit my Exile into this whole thing, too. I'm still debating whether or not to bring her with Connan and Carth, or bring Bastila. Ho-hum.

Thanks, guys, for tolerating the weirdness of this chapter. It certainly isn't my best.

Hey! Guess what? There were forty bands that went to Mabank Cedar Creek Marching Contest yesterday and guess what happened? We won! How 'bout them Bulldogs, huh? Go us! Now I'm tired….

I'll see you guys next Sunday.

Amme Moto