Author's note: First snippet of the (possible) Carth and Revan Chronicles. More to come, if people enjoy. :)

And might I add just how much I loath how Female Revan is such a Mary Sue (thank you, BioWare)? It's really hard to write her as anything other than what she is – but I do try my best, at the same time keeping it canon. So, in other words, keep an open mind when reading it, and aid me in my attempts to thwart off that ridiculous label.

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A Jedi is a Jedi, first and foremost, and only. For a Jedi to divide his attention between the will of the Force and the will of others is to invite disaster.

Of course.

Out of all of the ridiculous Jedi codes to be lingering around within her mind, it had to be that one. That one, along with a long list of others, had been read during a lone study-session between her and a very bright computer console – somewhere between the post-midnight hours of one and three o'clock. She could distinctly remember blinking back tear-yawns that gathered along the bottom lid of her blood-shot eyes, piercing her gaze through the fuzzy water that threatened to break down over her paled cheeks. It had not been a particularly pleasant time of her life – she admittedly and very hesitantly-lacking would confess to that – but it had been 'necessary' according to the Jedi Council members. Oh, yes. Necessary for her to be mind-crammed with the knowledge of things that she not only had no interest for, but also had little patience for. Necessary for her to be trained hour after hour for a number of weeks in mediation and combat that, truly, should not have been allowed for the human body (or any body, for that matter). And lastly it was necessary for her to pick up on a mindless quest for a Star Map that had aided the Sith into dominating the entire Republic.

Necessary. In mere months she had learned to despise the word and all of its meaning.

However, much like any other Jedi training method would warn against, she couldn't take her responsibilities lightly. True Baill – the once well-known scoundrel and now respect-lacking Jedi – was going to spend as long as it took (possibly the remainder of her life) traveling with a diverse group full of different personalities in hopes of discovering the key to all weaponry. And if she failed or decided to take the 'dark' road (which Bastila constantly hovered in reminder of not doing) she would be looked down upon as a mistake... or simply murdered on the spot by every other member in the 'quest'.

At present there was a double-handed finger count of seven people within the group (including herself) and that number seemed to ironically grow the more they traveled about. True's personal hopes – on a very inward level – were that they would not run into any more hopeful join-ies, or at least veer far away from the amount in which to count them all she would have to throw in her toes.

And for once, despite the large size of her companionship, she was alone. As a group in whole they had all decided to wait until the morning to begin their search for the Star Map, and she as an individual had decided to wander around the Wookie-infested planet. Alone. By herself. The way she had preferred to live her life for the past twenty years of it. And the moment she had planted her feet outside of the Ebon Hawk – as a single set of feet, for a change – she had instantly felt a weight of claustrophobia break away from her shoulders. She could breath without the diluted air of her allies. She could think without Bastila's prodding interrogation. She could even swing her arms around her, flailing them wildly and crazily, and actually not hit someone at her flanks.

Tugging the brown robes around her small body, taking eager steps to completely delude herself from the business of the planet, True had sought out an area through a large gate that had been warned to lead into the more 'dangerous' areas of the jungle. At one point she might have been a little bit hesitant to walk through it; after all, she had been a scoundrel, not a warrior. But now, with the ever-lingering weight of the yellow lightsaber hanging down at her side, she couldn't imagine a practical foe hiding in the shadows of the trees on the planet Kashyyyk.

And finally, as she stepped through the giant gate, there was nothing but the torch-lit wooden walkway that winded deep into the forest. There were no busy-bodies mulling around on this side of the Wookie-built city. There were no shops, or ships, or mechanics. There weren't any sounds – save for the crackling fire and the distant cries and screeches of unidentifiable animals.

This planet had been their fist stop since the intriguing meeting on Dantooine, and it left very little time to prepare for the disaster-prone adventures they were about to pursue. But now, in the silence of her own lonesome, she could think; though she couldn't bring herself to think about anything other than the single line from the page-long (or decade long, more accurately) Jedi code.

...For a Jedi to divide his attention between the will of the Force and the will of others is to invite disaster.

She moaned in annoyance. It was a constant bother that, within the code, a Jedi was constantly referred to as a male. She was no male – at all – and that left the entire code completely un-relate-able. Or perhaps the ancient Council was trying to forewarn something; perhaps women were not meant to follow the Jedi code. Alright! Maybe none of their rules even applied to her... being a woman, and all...

True shook her head in attempts to rid the silly thoughts. She then sighed loudly, gripping onto the wooden railing of the platform in which she stood on, and leaned her stomach slightly over the side of the bar and whistled at the murky sight. The whistle echoed down into the dark depths of Kashyyyk, ringing about the inside of her ears, bouncing off of nothing but moss and tree trunks the size of their ship.

As she stared, gaping and gawking at how extremely high-up her current location was marked at, a strong hand out of nowhere groped at the side of her arm and yanked her softly backwards. If the rough-ness of the hand hadn't given him away it was the way that he had forcefully pulled at her, with a huge lack in respect for the fact that it was her body. Also, deductive reasoning wasn't really on the culprits side, either; Canderous would never dare to touch her and Zaalbar was obviously too hairy and pawed to be mistaken as anyone other than himself. That really only left one other male entity...

Turning around on her heel, flaring her dark brown Jedi robes around her ankles in a flurry of anger, True eyed the taller pilot warily. His yellow-faded jacket was practically puncturing through the glare of her gray eyes (like it usually did) remarkably turning her mood even more sour than it currently was, his twin-locks of dark hair swung lazily over his right eye in their most common satisfactory places, and he was clutching onto one of his blasters within his left hand – nothing out of the ordinary. The very familiarity of everything about him caused her to hiss through gritted teeth – though the awkwardly rough and yet out-of-place softness of his voice eagerly beat her to the punch.

"Can we not leave you alone for five minutes without you... what are you doing? Trying to plummet to your death?"

True felt the top of her cheeks grow hot and she inwardly calculated how much of a struggle (and a hassle) it would be to pick the man up and throw him over the railing. Perhaps with a bit more mediation she could simply pick him up with her mind and do it... but that was a bit far-fetched for today. So, regrettably, she would have to deal with this in the same mannerism she usually did. "What are you doing here, Spaceworm!?"

Carth Onasi's honey-brown eyes momentarily retracted, then washed themselves over with a look of insult. "What am I doing here?" His voice was low, but it still cracked through the silence of the night like an attack upon her ears. "What are you doing here?"

Perhaps it was an immediate mistake on her part for sneaking off of the ship without telling anybody. No, no. On second thought, she knew she had taken the right approach to it, because if she had told anybody about her plans to flee separately out into the unfamiliarity of the planet, she would surely be insisted to be accompanied by at least two other companions. So she knew she had done the right thing – whereas she would not have been allowed her very short yet blissful moments of peace... now ruefully crushed by the annoyance of her space pilot. Of course, in his defense, they probably had all been overcome with a panic-attack as soon as the realization that she had gone missing had occurred.

Puckering her lips outward, rubbing her tongue along the outside of her upper-row of teeth, True took a gated step backwards and distanced herself from Carth. In the very back of her mind she wondered how he had found her, but it was really not that much of a matter of interest. "I assume the others are looking for me too, hm?"

Carth's eyes doddered uncomfortably around for a moment, and the strong stance in the way that he held his shoulders slightly deflated. "They didn't think it was odd at all that you were gone. They thought you deserved some time alone." His hand that was clutched around the blaster waved in animation as he spoke, and his voice did a funny octave-exchange at the very end of his sentence.

True watched his hand move as his voice trickled out, and her eye absentmindedly twitched. She hated how he spoke and swung his weaponry around as if it helped emphasize his words – she half expected him to shoot someone every time he opened his mouth to emit something lengthy. But, though her mind was half-focused on the way he played with his blaster, her ears still fully absorbed the words that fell from his mouth.

So you're the only one who cared, Space Pilot? The very thought made the bottom of her stomach slightly clench in discomfort. Carth actually cared enough to come look for her all by himself? Even with the clinging words of the rest of the crew who had no doubt scolded him to leave her be? Strange...

As if reading the silence of the contemplations within her mind Carth quickly stammered to clear things up. "You shouldn't be out here by yourself. None of us should be. It's a dangerous planet – especially now that Czerka has taken over."

Raising a narrow eyebrow, True thought his words over carefully, and then broke into a small fit of laughter. "Czerka? You're worried about Czerka Employee's taking advantage of me?" The very words tumbling from her thin lips caused her to chuckle even more.

Carth's mouth flattened into a straight line and the color of his golden face flushed into a shade much more pale. "On the battlefield a soldier should never be alone. I feel the same way here."

This answer completely and utterly disappointed her. Why? She didn't know – but it did. And for some reason it dismantled her attitude like hell, causing her to despise his presence even more.

...to divide his attention between the will of the Force...

And then it dawned upon her. To divide attention was, in other words, to be distracted. Reaching deeper and deeper into her mind, pulling out pieces that began to fly together like a puzzle, True remembered a very distinct line in the Jedi Code that had become lost to her in her tired mind. It had said that a Jedi was to distance themselves from anything that was a distraction.

Carth was a distraction. First and foremost. He was a huge distraction; and mainly because he frustrated as well as confused all hell out of her. In one moment he would separate himself in such a way that he appeared to want to curl up into a discreet corner and die (very painfully), and the next moment he was pushing himself onto her practically begging that she either fight with or interrogate him. No matter what he did he was always a huge distraction, always busying her mind away from other things, either putting her into such a deflated and aggravated mood that she could hardly focus on anything but her despise for him... or, on occasion, he did other things to her emotions. Things that she hardly understood...

She had to get away from him.

Digging her heels heavily into the wooden flooring, drawing herself even further backwards, True spread her arms out-wide and smirked a very un-friendly smirk. "This isn't a battlefield. Your loyalty isn't needed or wanted out here." Her voice came out much harsher than she had anticipated, and she dropped her arms back down to her sides in a loud clap of air. "Go back to the ship, Space Pilot."

With that hanging thick in the air – so thick that you could seemingly cut a knife through it – True turned smoothly around on her heel. Her gray eyes bore angrily down onto the path ahead of her, practically ignoring the ways of the direction in which she walked. How could she not have seen it before? She had to get rid of Carth, as soon as she could think straight. He was nothing but a pain. Sure, he was a great pilot and an exceptional alliance in battle, but he was a distraction... plus, his yellow jacket was getting to her. She would have to take serious charge of this mission and request that he be removed and replaced with a different pilot; Bastila and the Council could surely understand -

"TRUE, WATCH OUT!"

The very loud and misplaced shout took her slightly off-guard. But, before she could react, True was hit with such an impact that it couldn't have felt all that much worse to be completely smashed into by a pod-racer. Or, perhaps, it felt more like being inside of a pod-racer, smashing into a wall. Either way, it hurt, and it shocked her, and before she could even contemplate anything that was happening she was extremely and fully aware that Carth was laying flat on top of her, breathing so heavily that it appeared as if he had just completed a marathon race.

Well, at least one of them could breath. True, on the other hand, had become short of breath from the impact – and not necessarily because he was on top of her. In fact, the more she gasped for air, finally filling her lungs with the necessity of life, the more she found that Carth was not even crushing her small body beneath his at all. Instead he was more-so hovering over her; his elbows on either side of her arms, propping himself upright so that he could still glance around him in preparation, and the entirety of his chest and stomach still lightly laid atop of her own in a protective notion.

True was so busy trying to muffle through the occurrences of what had just happened that she hardly noticed the winged creature swoop down towards the top of Carth's body – though he was much quicker than the beast, and he shot it dead with the ever-held pistol in his left hand.

Silence.

For a moment they were both very quiet, and still. True watched as her chest heaved up and down in heavy breaths, bumping softly against his yellow jacket (that ugly thing), pressing very suggestively up into his own broad body. She felt the blood drain from her cheeks...

Finally, Carth's warm chuckle broke the silence, and he stared down upon her with soft eyes, grinning from ear to ear. "Why is it that everywhere we go, animals try to kill you?"

"Mmdunno." True mumbled beneath her breath, trying to sift through the cloudy thoughts that failed to bring themselves into a reachable clearance.

His eyes. They were so soft and kind. Never in the time of True knowing him – from their first real encounter on the Endar Spire to now – had she ever truly had the chance to look into them as she did now. And their faces were so close that it was almost impossible not to notice the other intriguing attributes of his face; the way that his eyebrows made perfect creases in the center of his forehead, the delicate bend at the brim of his nose, the perfectly trimmed outline of his stubble filled mustache, the scar that glanced awkwardly yet delicately down the left side of his chin...

"Errrm," the voice came from the left, and caused True's eyes to automatically break free from their lock onto Carth's still face. When she was capable of actually focusing onto the further away and much bulkier body of the man from whence the sound-source had originated from, she sucked in a very intense breath of air that stung the back of her throat. Canderous stood, swinging his huge blaster back and forth in front of him, forcing himself to stare up towards the high tree branches as his gruff voice continued onward. "I feel very awkward inside – right now – and I'm going to blame it on the fact that Carth is lying on top of you."

That was all that it took.

True shoved Carth off of her body so forcefully that he plopped with a painfully noisy thud onto the floor at the right of her own lying self, and the back of his head banged ear-splitting loud against the wood. Adjacent to this, True pulled herself onto her feet, patting at the back of her dusty robes, turning her attention to Canderous with a lopsided grin.

"No – really. I'd rather not hear the excuses," the Mandalorian began, raising a heavy palm upwards to silence her before she began. "I'll just go tell the others you're both fine. Ease their minds."

True's grin dropped immediately as Canderous turned away from her, disappearing surprisingly quickly back from whence he came.

"That's not exactly the kind of 'thank you' I had in mind," Carth's voice rang from behind her, followed by a painful groan.

True turned back around to face him, anger filling her features at what Canderous had just seen – and assumed – though it was quickly thwarted by the way her pilot rubbed the back of his neck in a very strained manner. As she stared, watching carefully as he slowly got onto his feet, she was surprised to find that none of the strange feelings that she had been lapsing through prior to the Mandalorians arrival were lingering back. It must have just been the lack of oxygen to her brain.

Thank the Force...

When Carth had successfully brought himself onto his feet they both inwardly found it appropriate to begin their walk back towards the ship, not very distanced from the arrival time of Canderous. For a while there was no exchange of words. True was still mulling over why she had felt the way she had when Carth had been sprawled protectively on top of her. Perhaps it was her many-years-in-lack of intimacy just pounding around her ears, longing to break through? Though, that wasn't exactly something a Jedi should ever be found emitting. Jedi were frowned upon in showing emotions, and especially tying themselves down with tangled and heavy feelings such as intimacy – love – or any kind of relationship further than alliance. This was exactly that kind of distractions she didn't need. And, yet, when did she ever do things by precise ruling? She didn't even want to be a Jedi in the first place...

Eventually she found it fit to speak.

"Why didn't you go back to the ship like I said?"

Carth dropped his hand from the back of his head finally and twitched the corner of his mouth successfully upward in attempts at being crude. "Battlefield."

Of course.

"Right," True was reminded with a very exaggerated eye-roll, "loyal to a fault."

Though she had to admit, he had saved her (though she would never let him bring it up again, at least not after explanations were made to Canderous).

Maybe a little distraction now and then isn't so bad after all.

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I gotta say. This is my first Carth/Revan snippit, and I love it.
I am just dying to know what all of you think, so please review, and tell me if I should continue in the chronicles! :)
Thanks so much for reading.