Carth stared morosely into his glass, and decidedly ignored his surroundings. It had been a nightmare since they'd landed on this Force forsaken rock, and things weren't getting any better. He still couldn't believe that little stunt she pulled with Mission during her trial. It had worked, but at what cost? The Selkath and Sith certainly knew she was Revan now, and soon the Republic would as well. If only she hadn't been so reckless, so foolhardy ... Dammit! What the hell was he going to tell his superiors when they asked?

"Are you going to drink that, Carth?"

"Yeah, sorry, Jordo. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that I wish I was in your shoes. That girl I saw you with earlier's a real looker."

"I hadn't noticed," Carth said dryly.

"Don't give me that you space dog! You're not that old yet."

"I'm only two years older than you, Jordo."

"And how old is she? I might have a better shot at it than you, gramps."

"Twenty-seven."

Jordo whistled. "I'm not sure if I should give congratulations or condolences. You sure you can handle a girl that young?"

"Believe me, that's the least of my worries."

"Oh?"

Carth shrugged.

"Now, now, old man. You gotta to do better than that."

"Where do I start?"

"How 'bout at the beginning?"

"So there's this girl..." And Carth told Jordo about the smuggler recruit aboard the Spire whom all his subordinates seemed drawn to, about Taris, the Jedi, about Dustil and Korriban, and about how he finally killed Saul on the Leviathan. He didn't mention Bastila or Malak. He left out how he had condemned her for being weak, for giving away all the Republic's secrets only hours after he'd forgivenher for it ... been thankful for it. He didn't say how he couldn't even stand to say her name anymore, but his friend didn't seem to notice.

Jordo grinned. "You know, all of two decades ago we had a conversation like this. It's been twenty years, I'd thought you'd have grown out of your moping days by now." His old friend chuckled, "You're mooning over a woman, Carth. Again."

Carth picked up his glass, swirled it, and took a long drink. "It's more complicated than that."

"Isn't it always? Besides, sounds like she's had to drag your sorry ass outta trouble more than once. She might be worth it."

"She's a Jedi. She's more than just that, she's, she's – well, I can't tell you that. She's done a lot of bad things, Jordo." Carth took another drink. "I should hate her. I should be able to blame her for everything she did, and kill her for it. But I don't, I can't, and I couldn't."Carth squeezed his eyes shut, "I tried. Force knows I tried."

"And she's just some smuggler, right?" His friend looked at him curiously, and then with something close to understanding. "A spice racketeer with a heart of gold ... think I saw that in bad a holovid once."

"Feels like one."

"She's a real looker," his friend repeated absentmindedly. "You know, gramps, the last time your panties got this twisted about a girl was because of Moira."

"It was a long time ago."

"I'm real sorry about her, Carth."

"Yeah, me too."

They finished their drinks in silence, and Jordo poured another one. "Drink up, looks like you need it more than me."

He thought about home as he drank. He tried to picture Moira playing with ten year old Dustil, but that holo had been destroyed along with the Spire. It had only been seven months since he had last seen it, but it was already fuzzy in his memory; an image that wasn't focused. He saw the trees and flowers in front of their home, heard Dustil's laughter, and smelt his wife's perfume, but he couldn't see her face. Only five years, and he had forgotten Moira completely. Was that why he didn't pull the trigger when he put his blaster to, to her head?

"You know what you need to do, gramps?"

He sighed, "What, Jordo?"

"Grab her and kiss her! If it's good, you'll forget whatever it is you're sulking about. If it's not, well then, you have bigger things to worry about than this girl's history – like her lightsaber going up your ass."

Carth scowled, "What, are we teenagers again?"

"Whatever works," Jordo said philosophically. "You like her, I'm surprised you haven't made a move yet, the old you never would've waited so long."

"Yeah, right. No offense, but I'm going to take advice from a guy who's been divorced twice."

"Four times now. And believe me, learned something from 'em."

"Get a prenup?"

"Close." His friend looked thoughtful, "Everything in this life's fleeting, Carth. You gotta hold on to what you can get. If this girl's special, keep her while you can. Nothing else matters."

Telos matters, Carth thought viciously. His wife mattered, Dustil mattered. But Dustil's safe, she saved him. He wasn't sure if he could ever look at her again without seeing Telos. He didn't hate her, he couldn't. That didn't mean he could put it behind him. "I don't ..." he swallowed thickly. I don't know if I can forgive her."

"You know Carth, you spend enough time on this rock, and eventually you hear things before the Selkath do. The rumour mill's almost as bad as it was in the fleet."

"What?"

Jordo ignored him, "So I hear of a pretty Jedi lady landing in a smuggling ship. She gets in trouble a few times, nothing serious. And then, and then, I hear that a Jedi went into the Sith embassy and killed everyone in it. Not a bad thing, wish I could've done it! Nothing too out of the ordinary, either, unless you're Selkath, of course. Then, it gets strange. Seems like the Jedi got off scot-free; what's left of the Sith either leave her alone or follow her about, and even the Selkath are unusually tight lipped. No one's talking either way, and that usually means something's happening. Something big."

"Jordo, I, I --"

"I don't know who she is Carth, and I don't want to know." Jordo sniffed his glass appreciatively before taking another mouthful of alcohol. "What I do know I've already told you. If she's special to you, tell her. There's no use moping about the past. What's done is done, and you can't go back. Neither can she."

"She saved Dustil. And Mission, and, and she tried to help all those people on Taris."

"Did she now?"

"Yeah." It was the truth. She had helped people on every planet they had been to. Did that make up for Telos, for this damn war? Did it matter? "We found Dustil on Korriban of all places." Carth grimaced at the memory. "He'd joined the academy, and she showed him what the Sith were really like. I couldn't have done it without her there. He wouldn't have left. I never thanked her for that."

"See, now that was your first mistake. Take it from me!"

"I promised to protect her, though. I didn't know what from then, but I think I do now."

"I'm not the one you should be spilling your guts to, gramps."

Carth smiled, "I know. How about another round for old times, before I go find her?"

"Just don't get too drunk. Women never 'preciate it!"

Carth laughed, and ordered two more rounds. One for the past, and the other as a toast to the future. It seemed right. He could forgive himself, and her. Now he just had to hope she would forgive him, and not shove her lightsaber up well ...


Author's Note: Since I've gotten many reviews and private emails regarding this, I should explain that I have not chosen the name "Moira" for Carth's deceased wife in error. I have never seen the interview where the developer called her "Morgana", nor can I actually find it. To me, word of mouth and a footnote entry in Wookieepedia isn't sufficient proof enough to change it.

Besides, the developers called the most important figure in gaming horror "Red Pyramid Thing", "Red Triangle Thing", even "Triangle Head" and "Red Triangle". That doesn't mean I can't call him Pyramid Head.