Post-KOTORII. Spoilers for both games. All characters, locations etc. belong to LucasArts, Bioware and Obsidian—in other words, everyone but me.

A/N: I swore—I swore—that I would not write fic for this game. I promised and promised myself that I wouldn't, and yet here we are. The best laid plans... This story was started after I picked up KOTOR after a year-long hiatus; I managed to mess up my female!Revan/Carth romance and ended up with a lingering sense of incompleteness and one heck of a plot bunny.

Letting Go

Prologue

-s-s-

"Jedi Bastila, your presence is requested on the bridge."

The tinny voice echoed through the chamber, drawing Bastila out of her meditative trance. She opened her eyes on a sparsely decorated room, identical in every way to every other guest room she'd stayed in on a dozen Republic ships. The only thing that set these quarters apart were their newness; the Jagner Song was a brand-new Dreadnought on its inaugural run.

She reached out with the Force and switched the comm unit on. "Thank you, Lieutenant Krask, I'll be there shortly."

She rose to her feet and shook out her robes, pausing briefly to glance at her reflection in the mirror attached to the wall beside the 'fresher. She smiled at her reflection, acknowledging the vanity for precisely what it was. Her robes were clean and neat, her lightsaber clipped to her utility belt, hair neatly in place as it should be.

The very image of a Jedi Master.

Master. It still made her shake her head in wonder sometimes, that she, Bastila Shan, erstwhile Dark Jedi and prodigal Knight, could have attained such status. More often, she wondered if it were deserved. She didn't feel particularly wise, and most days it felt like she was just stumbling through, fumbling in the dark without guidance. The Exile had laughed at that, after Bastila had shared her doubts, and pointed out that all the new Masters were in the same situation.

The thought wasn't comforting. Bastila's mouth twisted and she turned away from her reflection, heading for the door and out, toward the bridge.

Barely two years had passed since the Exile had beaten three Sith Lords single-handed and encouraged what was left of the Jedi to come creeping from the shadows. It shamed Bastila even now that she had fled from that battle, leaving the Exile to face the threat alone. In an attempt to make amends, when the Exile begun the work of rebuilding the Order with her small stable of Force sensitives and new-minted Jedi, Bastila had accepted the task of being its public face, traveling through the galaxy to remind people what the Jedi had been, and could be again. Most of her time was spent with the Republic Fleet, assisting the new commanders in whatever situations they found themselves in.

Of late her duties had brought her back in touch with an old friend. On the surface, Carth Onasi hadn't changed much since she'd last seen him. He was still handsome, still a soldier—an Admiral, now—still devoted to the Republic, with a few more grey threads in his brown hair, and the stern lines around his mouth a little more deeply etched. But the smile he gave Bastila on her arrival to his new flagship, the Jagner Song had a hard time reaching his eyes, and he was even less forthcoming now than he had been when they met on the Endor Spire, nearly seven years ago.

She couldn't fault him for changing, though; it had been a hard few years for all of them. Only in the last year, with the main Sith leaders finally vanquished, had any of them been able to catch their breath and regroup, to pause and reflect on the past instead of charging headlong into constant battle. Only in the last year had Bastila finally realized that her link with Revan, the old Force bond that had tied them together through their quest for the Star Forge, had not just faded to imperceptibility.

It had disappeared entirely.

The only conclusion to be drawn was that Revan was truly gone. Not wandering around the Outer Rim, not hiding on some far off planet, not wreaking havoc amongst the Sith. Bastila had felt obligated to tell Carth. Out of everyone on that ill-fated mission to the Star Forge, they two had been closest to Revan. Even she wasn't sure how close Carth and Revan had been—that Revan had loved him Bastila had no doubt, but to the best of her knowledge, the other woman had never acted on it. Carth was more difficult to read, his feelings a closed book to Bastila, but in all the years of Revan's long absence, he had never so much as glanced at another woman. Now Revan was dead, and Bastila didn't know if he would ever be the same. If any of them would be.

Bastila pushed those thoughts aside as she approached the bridge and palmed the door open, reaching into the well of the Force around her to steady and calm herself. The young troopers on guard at the door nodded to her in tandem as she passed. She spared them a smile and moved forward, to where Carth waited.

He stood in the centre of the bridge, just behind the navicomputer, legs braced against imperceptible movements, hands clasped behind his back as he took in all the activity around him. The Jagner Song was a brand new ship, and the bulk of her crew of 1500 were new recruits. There were a few seasoned officers mixed in, but mos teveryone else was fresh out of the Republic training academy, on their first tour of duty. They all seemed so young; they made Bastila feel ancient, and she could only imagine how all this untrammeled youth and eagerness felt to Carth. Most of the bridge crew were watching them surreptitiously; Jedi were not all that common, and everyone on the ship idolized Carth, including the seasoned officers.

"Jedi Bastila," he said by way of greeting, and nodded at the young man stationed at the comm. "Go ahead, Lieutenant Krask."

"We've received a transmission, ma'am," the officer said. "A recording. It's marked for you, Master Bastila."

Bastila raised her eyebrows. "From the Council?"

"No ma'am, I don't recognize the code. It's been bounced around a bit, catching up with us, but it didn't originate from Coruscant."

"Patch it through to the briefing room, please, Lieutenant," Carth said. He added to Bastila, "You can view it there in private."

"You might as well join me. I have a feeling whatever this message is, it will probably concern you too."

Carth raised an eyebrow, but nodded, and he led her to the briefing room just off the main bridge. He seated himself at the head of the long table as Bastila cued up the message and stepped back.

With a faint crackle of static, the holo flickered into life. The shifting blue particles resolved into a slight female human with cropped hair, clad in plain trousers and an overlarge tunic that made her look smaller than she really was. A jolt of alarmed recognition coursed through Bastila, and she sensed Carth go very, very still.

"Hello, Bastila," said Revan.

-s-s-