We mimic the openness of the ones we love
Dovetail our generosity, equalize the flow
With our hearts
We kiss all quartz
To reach love
-Bjork, "Crystalline"
====
You aren't even hungry yet, but it's as good an excuse as any, and you're tired of shuffling through the tall Dantooine grass. "Let's stop here for lunch, then we can get back to chasing down those Mandalorian raiders."
"Finally!" Mission whines, dramatically flopping down at the mouth of the small cave and shrugging off her pack. "I'm starving." You see Carth smile but not say anything as Mission doesn't even bother to get all of her lunch out of her bag before starting to nibble on whatever she's grabbed first.
But your pack stays on your back, a soothing weight pulling down at your shoulders, as you wander into the cave. Carth starts to pull out his own lunch, but looks up to see you shuffling your way in. "We already cleared that cave, Scout."
"I know."
Scout - you like that nickname. Other people would be offended by it, but you know that Carth means it with affection. You were listed as a Scout when he first read your dossier. Maybe the Endar Spire had been destroyed; maybe you had spent a terrifying few weeks with him on Taris only to be here on Dantooine, only to be told you had an affinity for something that seemed so foreign and familiar both at once. But it was all right, because you were still Scout. You were still useful, and you were still part of the same grand design that Carth was. And the nickname tells you that Carth values you enough to be friendly with you.
You have use and you are useful: that is a good feeling.
The cave is pleasantly dark, and with every step you kick up a musty scent from the earth. You could reach for your lightsaber, but instead you dig around in your pack for a simple flashlight, climbing up on one of the many projections of crystals in the cave. The simple white light turns the cave into a blaze of color. When you first visited this cave, you picked up several little shards from the crystals: they would be useful in building future lightsabers. Now you are content to just enjoy instead of take. The Jedi robes are so much more comfortable than your earlier armor, and you feel almost weightless as you walk along one crystal's edge. Your boots are thin enough that you can curl your toes for extra grip as you balance effortlessly on the near-horizontal projection.
Carth is watching you. He has not said anything yet but he is leaning against the mouth of the cave, sandwich in one hand. Mission is sitting, facing the opposite way, watching the kath hounds in the distance as she stuffs her face. You'll have to tease her about it later, but right now your mind is elsewhere, as you shuffle towards the edge of the crystal where it juts from the wall and lean forward to shine the flashlight through another large crystal dripping down from the ceiling. The light blazes into tiny rainbows, beautifully fractured. With proper focus and energy it could become a killing blade but for right now it is just beautiful.
You tilt the light to shine the arc of purple-blue on Carth. "Hey, Onasi, you look pretty good in purple."
He laughs, but now that you've caught his attention, you motion for him to come forward even as you look around the cave to see which angle creates the prettiest shower of colored light. It's easier to have this conversation if you aren't looking at him. "Is now a good time to talk?"
"Sure, Scout. I mean, I don't know of any reason it isn't."
"I wanted to thank you. For sticking around, I mean." You turn the flashlight and pick up a vein of green in the rock, turning the light on the far wall into something as delicate and lush as a summer forest. It's hard to figure out what words to say, but it's so easy to be humorous, so you can't help yourself: "Not many people would just wait around watching while I'm stuck doing boring Jedi stuff, especially with the really monotonous menu of the Temple kitchens."
"It's still better than Republic food," Carth jokes. That was certainly true, but for some reason you have to force yourself to eat almost every meal. It's just so bland and predictable. Maybe you were served food like it when you were in school: that has to be it, why it seems so familiar, why you are so tired of it. But there's an easy fix. You're already infamous for how much hot sauce you dump on every meal, and Carth knows it, because he's fished out your sandwich from the pack (and it has extra hot relish on it, of course). You catch his grin and smile back at him before looking back to the crystals and all the beautiful colors they create.
You wonder if he can see the way your ears are blushing in the darkness of the cave, especially as you lean in to grab the sandwich from him.
"I really do mean it, though. It means a lot to know there's someone here I can trust - both you and Mission and Zaalbar. Not that I don't trust Bastila, but... it's good to have friends who aren't part of some Jedi enclave, and always seem like they aren't telling me anything." Maybe you've talked enough now. It feels that way. It's a good thing you've already partially unwrapped your sandwich, so you can shove it into your mouth.
Tastes like burning. Absolutely delicious. You don't know how you could survive the food here if it wasn't for that hot relish.
Carth looks like he's about to say something. Maybe something important. You know that usually happens when his eyebrows go just-so and his mouth opens just a little bit as he figures out exactly what words to use. You never find out what he's going to say, because Mission interrupts: "Okay, okay, you love us lots, Scout - does that mean that I can eat your dessert? Pleeeease?"
"Yeah, Mission, you can eat it." And you laugh, and Carth laughs, and the cave is filled with color and light.
Weeks later you wish you could go back to that happy moment.
You are worn out. Your body aches. It was a hard fight. It was harder leaving Bastila behind. All of that would have been bad enough, but now Carth is turning his back to you, heading to the Starboard Crew Quarters.
"Please, Carth -"
"Just - I just need some time to figure this out, all right?" There's heat in his voice. You know that when he says this he means us, all the little flirtations and smiles and laughter you two have accumulated. "I'm not going to talk now. I'm not. I need some time, Revan." He says the last word like you've betrayed him, and he closes the door to the Starboard Quarters behind him.
You stare at your muddled reflection in the plastisteel door. You don't understand it. You don't feel like a monster; you just feel like you. You don't feel like you've suddenly outgrown being Carth's Scout. Maybe that is the problem. Maybe you have been a monster all along, you just haven't noticed, because you simply feel like you are being you.
That couldn't be right, could it?
Could it, Revan?
You don't know, so you turn and head to the Port Quarters and find your bunk. If you have something to do with your hands you can keep yourself busy, and maybe you can figure out a way to apologise for being who you are. Your pack is full and heavy with all of the things you've picked up thinking maybe they would be useful soon, so you turn it over on your bed, all the flotsam and jetsam of your life. Among them are the little shards of crystal you picked up on Dantooine, and your flashlight. So you shove the rest of the pile away to one side and flop down onto the bed, and if you shine the light just-so, you can make the ceiling of the ship just like the inside of the crystal cave. Part of you - maybe all of you - wishes it was so easy to go back to being Scout in that cave, eating lunch with Carth and Mission.
At some point Mission comes to talk with you, and you lie and say you are checking the crystals for flaws which would make them unsuitable for use in lightsabers. She says that Jolee is worried about you, and the rest of the crew is gathering for a meal, because they are safely in hyperspace to Manaan and it will be some time before they get there. She says that everyone would like to see you there, and you think that she is lying, but you know she is lying to be kind so you smile at her when you tell her that you are not hungry.
Your stomach is twisting itself into knots but you can't think of eating, anyway. Too much has gone on today. Nobody would fault you if you cried a little about it; not even Bastila (if she was here). But instead you choke all of that down and pull out another crystal. It's green, blending a little at the tip into blue, with a streak of white running through it. Totally unsuitable for a lightsaber, but it is your favourite. You had been thinking, after this was all over, of turning it into a necklace. You were going to give it to Carth, but now you aren't sure: you still want him to have it, but the image of him crushing it in anger or tossing it into Manaan's wide ocean makes your chest ache.
The door to the Port Quarters slides open but you don't look up. You are too busy looking at how the one streak of white makes the colorful shadows projected through the crystal turn and twist, as if you can just concentrate hard enough and block out all the other problems, at least for awhile.
Somebody reaches out to tap you on the shoulder with a bag they are holding. You are surprised to see Carth there.
"I brought you a sandwich. Extra hot relish, the way you like it."
His voice is very tired but it is not angry.
The edges of your vision start to blur as you blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears from coming, but they come anyway, blurring every little light in the room into beautifully shattered displays of color, tiny rainbows perching on your eyelashes. And you know that despite everything, it is going to turn out all right.
And you wonder if you can get someone on Manaan to make that necklace for you as soon as the Ebon Hawk lands.