AN: This is the least humorous thing I've tried to write, and that leaves me very nervous about its quality. Many thanks to The Hodge Podge Kid for beta reading and offering constructive criticism.

How could I not see it?

Carth tried to ignore the thought, but it burrowed into his brain like a parasite. He stared at the console, unable to concentrate; he took his pistols to the workbench, methodically field-stripped and cleaned them; he lay in his bunk and stared at the bulkhead thinking Revan. Over and over, replaying Saul's last words, Bastila's admission, and Revan's own acknowledgment.

"I'm Revan." Her voice deathly quiet, resigned; her face expressionless. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

No, thought Carth sourly. But he hadn't been able to disbelieve Saul's words, even for a second. As soon as he had heard his dying mentor's last, victorious sneer, the world had shifted and a thousand little details came together to make a very clear picture. That he had seen them and somehow disregarded them made him feel like the lowest kind of fool. I should have seen it. Why didn't I see it?

Eventually, he gave up trying to sleep. He had to see her again—look at her with open eyes, try to understand how he'd missed it before. She'll be in the engine room. She's always there during flights. The sound of the engines makes her feel at home. . . He pushed the memory of that conversation out of his mind and reached for his boots. He couldn't think about anything that had happened before—none of the teasing or the flirting, none of the times she'd confided in him or he in her. He couldn't think about her as if she were still the same person.

She was wedged into her favorite corner, leaning against the wall and staring at nothing. She'd abandoned Jedi robes for her old scout's uniform, and her lightsaber was nowhere in sight. She looked up at him blankly and said nothing. She hadn't said a word to him or anyone else since right after they'd escaped the Leviathan. He didn't know what to say to her anymore, either.

"We'll arrive at Kashyyyk in a few hours," he said at last, when the silence got too uncomfortable. "It should be safe enough to land there for repairs."

She nodded. "I need to realign the targeting sensors. They seemed off." She looked vaguely in his direction, her eyes losing focus after a few seconds.

"Don't you think you should get some sleep?" The words came out grudgingly, sounding more like an accusation than anything else.

"Not really," she admitted with a shrug. "There wouldn't be much point." She smiled humorlessly. "Was there anything else you needed? Or were you just checking to make sure I didn't plan to slaughter the whole crew?"

Once, she would've been sarcastic, indignant, maybe even angry. But now she spoke without inflection, as if she knew the words should be said but couldn't remember the intent behind them.

"Can you blame me?" he asked, attempting to provoke a spark of personality from her.

"Not really," she said again. "It's your nature to take precautions. But you're safe enough for now." She turned her head to the wall, obviously dismissing him. Carth stared at her, dumbfounded. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this. The woman before him seemed. . . hollow. Shell-shocked. If she'd been one of his soldiers, he would have refused to leave her alone until he managed to pull her out of that emptiness and back into life.

But this was Revan.

Maybe emptiness is better.

So he left her, trying to ignore the nagging thought that he was abandoning a friend. Maybe she just needs time alone, he told himself. She always spends a little while turning things over in her mind before. . . He slammed his fist against the bulkhead in annoyance. Don't imagine you still know her, he scolded himself. She's not the same person.

He sighed. He wasn't going to get any sleep, either. He headed for the cockpit, hoping that maybe the swirling chaos of hyperspace would calm his mind.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" Jolee's words startled him as he passed the medical room. The old Jedi was organizing his medicines, rearranging the herbs in some complex order that made sense only to him. "Not surprising after all that's happened."

Carth stopped short, a new wave of bitterness flooding him. "It shouldn't be much of a problem for you, should it?" he said, staring at the old man. "You already knew."

Jolee frowned at the unidentifiable plant in his hands. "We old folk sometimes have trouble staying asleep. Maybe because we don't have enough time left to waste it snoring. You'll find out someday, if you're lucky."

Carth crossed his arms. "You could have said something."

"Could have? Yeah," Jolee acknowledged. "Should have? Not a chance."

"What the hell do you mean?" Carth demanded. "We've been flying around the Outer Rim trying to save the Republic with a Sith Lord! Don't you think we had a right to know that?"

"Keep your voice down!" Jolee snapped, and Carth realized that he was nearly shouting. "Just because you can't sleep doesn't mean you have to wake the entire ship." Carth gave him a hostile look, and the other man sighed. "Fine, fine. Settle down and don't cause any more of a ruckus and we can talk."

Carth leaned against the wall. "I'm listening."

"Well, first of all," Jolee began, "and I know this might be hard for a young hothead like yourself to understand, but there are certain situations that just aren't any of my business."

"None of your business," Carth repeated flatly.

"Over the years, I've noticed that sometimes, interfering does more harm than good," said the old man calmly. "I figured this was one of those times." He cut off Carth's objection with a raised hand. "Would any of you have believed me if I told you?" he asked. "Well, maybe you would. You're paranoid." Carth opened his mouth to argue, but the Jedi ignored him. "Imagine it: an old man you barely know babbling on about how your sweetheart is really a dead Sith Lord?" He chuckled. "I wouldn't have believed me."

"She's not-" Carth tried to interject.

"What do you think would have happened if I told Sereyna herself?" Jolee continued, still sifting through the herbs. "Maybe the knowledge would have poisoned her against the Jedi Council. Destroyed her friendships with Bastila and Juhani. Given her even more reason to doubt herself. What good would that do any of us?" He shook his head. "And of course, the Jedi Order wouldn't have been too happy with me if I spoiled their little plan—not that that was ever my biggest worry. Besides, I knew it was bound to get out eventually. Secrets this big never stay secret."

Carth wanted to argue, but he couldn't deny that the old man's words made a good deal of sense. He forced himself to ignore his own sense of betrayal, to look at the bigger picture, and nodded reluctantly. "All right," he said. "I guess I can see your point. I probably wouldn't have believed you before Saul and Bastila told me." He sighed. "When did you know?"

"Well, I suspected it before we left Kashyyyk," Jolee said carelessly. "I was there when she found the Star Map, you know. I saw how she interacted with it."

Carth shook his head. He felt weary and rather stupid. "At least we found four of the Star Maps before she found out. I just wish I knew what we should do now."

Jolee rolled his eyes. "Go after the last one, of course," he said.

"But now that Revan is. . .well, Revan. . .how is that going to work? What if she decides to turn on the Republic?" For all her faults, Sereyna never would have. But Revan could be capable of anything.

"She still has to find the last Star Map if she doesn't want to be crushed by Malak," Jolee pointed out. "So you might as well go along with her. And if she makes the wrong choice, you can always kill her. . .or die trying."

Carth stared at him. The old Jedi looked back serenely. "I can't tell whether or not you're joking," the younger man said eventually, "and I'm not sure which one is worse."

"Heh." Jolee smiled. "Old men—especially old hermits with Force powers—are supposed to be cryptic. It's in the rules." He brushed crumpled leaves into a crude pouch and stowed it somewhere in his robes. "To be honest, I have no idea what's going to happen now. That's all up to Sereyna."

"Revan," Carth corrected him. He couldn't afford to think of her as anything else now. Sereyna died on the Leviathan, and Revan took her place. It made about as much sense as anything. "She seemed pretty calm," he said cautiously, "but I think she's just in shock. I'm kind of worried about what will happen when it wears off."

"Oh, she'll come talk to me," Jolee said wearily. "Probably ask me all the questions you just did. It's always the same—whenever you young people get into really bad trouble, you go to the old-timer for advice. And then you usually ignore it, but I can't be blamed for that." He looked resigned.

"Well. . .if there's anybody who can help her, it's you," Carth said grudgingly. I know I can't. "She respects you more than any other Jedi she's met."

Jolee looked startled. "She told you that, did she?" He sounded pleased. "Well, that's something. I guess she could do worse." He frowned, his eyes focusing on something only he could see. "Looks like she's finally coming out of her sulk," he said, relief coloring his voice. He waved a hand at Carth, shooing him from the room. "Get out of here before you scare her off, will you? You're the last person she wants to see."

"Thanks," said Carth sourly. He was halfway down the hall before it occurred to him that Jolee might have been serious. He turned on his heel. "Why is that?"

"You are dim, aren't you?" Jolee said impatiently. "She's too afraid of the answer to ask the question yet."

"What-"

"Out!"

Throwing his hands in the air, Carth retreated back to the cockpit. He wanted to dismiss Jolee's words, but he knew they would stay with him. What question? What answer? He sighed. Jedi and their damned puzzles. Maybe if the Council had told them when this all started. . .or maybe if Bastila had taken him aside and warned him. . .

I could have kept a proper distance. I wouldn't have let myself get too close. But he had, and now. . .now everything was a mess.