Author's Note: Passages that are entirely in italics are meant to be flashbacks. Thank you so much to all of my loyal readers and to all of you who have taken the time to leave feedback for this story in reviews or emails!

The Irony

Carth sat on the edge of his bunk in his quarters on the Ebon Hawk, unable to go back to sleep. He stared down at his hands in his lap, at the sheet that had tangled around his waist, and wondered how he had reached this point. Sitting aboard a stolen freighter crewed by some of the most questionable and unusual humans and aliens… and Jedi.

The Jedi had always managed to butt their way into his life one way or another. He found their constant demands, stuffy rituals, and sense of superiority to be most annoying. That and the fact they had abandoned the Republic at the start of the Mandalorian Wars ranked the Jedi just above the Dark Lord Malak in his opinion. They had hidden within their Temples and watched as countless numbers of innocents died. But now… suddenly now they were keen to do battle, and to take charge of that battle as well. He supposed it was because now it was one of their own murdering people and making the Order look bad. He snorted and shook his head. The irony.

There was movement in the bed behind him and Carth turned his head to look at the woman who slept there. She snuggled deeper into the pillow and sighed deeply, but remained sleeping. He smiled, reaching forward and gently brushing a stray strand of brown hair from her face.

The Jedi. For so many years he had disliked them, hated them almost. And now here he was, in love with one. Sleeping with one. The irony.

He looked to the door again, making sure it was locked. He wasn't quite sure he wanted anyone else to know about him and Moriel yet. It would only complicate things, and he didn't trust that someone on the ship wouldn't take advantage of the relationship.

Fingertips brushed the bare skin of his back and Carth startled, turning back to look at Moriel. Her shining blue eyes met his and she smiled softly. "Morning."

He smiled half-heartedly; the thought of how the rest of the crew would react to the fact that he and Moriel had slept together was distracting. "Morning."

Moriel propped her head up on her elbow, eyeing him curiously. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, standing from the bed and going to retrieve his pants. "Nothing."

"You can't lie to a Jedi."

Carth lifted one eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically as he pulled up his trousers. "Now see… last night you claimed you weren't a Jedi."

She grinned at his comment, biting her lip playfully. "That's because you said Jedi were stuffy, boring, and overbearing."

"Okay... well…some of them are," Carth amended, rummaging around in his footlocker for a shirt.

"And you kept saying Jedi weren't allowed to love anyone, much less sleep with anyone," Moriel added.

"They aren't! Even I know that."

"Well, I don't care." Moriel sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet around her like a large white robe. "I'm not really a Jedi anyway. I wasn't raised as one. I don't have to follow their rules."

"I think Bastila would argue that."

"She can argue it until her pretty little face is blue – I'm not about to let a stuffy, boring, overbearing Jedi tell me how to live my life." She grinned at Carth, who shot her a disapproving look and shook his head again.

"But you're changing the subject," she continued abruptly. "What's worrying you?"

Carth sighed, giving up on his hunt for a shirt. Damn persistent woman. She always had been, he supposed she always would be. And, like always, he felt compelled to give in. "I just… I just don't think we should tell anyone about us… about this. Not yet."

"Why not?" Her face was so innocent.

"Because I… I don't trust everyone. It would just complicate things and… I don't want to hear any more lectures."

"From Bastila?"

"Yes. Exactly."

She smiled. "I understand." She stood from the bed, dragging the sheet along with her, and came to stand with him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing herself against him. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. He held her tightly, and for a long, quiet moment Carth Onasi simply stood and enjoyed feeling whole and at peace.

Carth's eyes snapped open; he was very abruptly awake, though he wasn't quite sure what had awoken him. He looked up at a ceiling he did not recognize and frowned, struggling to shake off the disorientation that clung to his mind. A vague notion of feelings and words still lingered in his head, and he realized he must have been dreaming. Dreaming about her. Dreaming about those precious few weeks when he had been almost as happy as he was before the war, when he had still had a home, a wife, a son, a life….

He remembered where he was, what had happened, and felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders: anger, frustration, helplessness, hate. He'd had enough of this. Vogga had let him live, let him stay on Nar Shadaa, and he wasn't going to waste his chance. He was leaving.

Carth tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved his head a throbbing pain exploded through his skull. He moaned and lay back again; realizing for the first time that his upper half was naked and both his wrists and ankles were restrained. He tugged at the bonds experimentally; buckled leather from the feel of them. Not so tricky to get out of as binder-cuffs, but not easy either. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain in his head to go away and cursing the Weequay who had hit him. He couldn't get out of here if he couldn't think straight.

"Oh, yeh awake now, are yeh?"

Carth winced at the voice, it seemed much too loud. He cracked one eye open and looked sideways to see an elderly man approaching from the far side of the room.

"Didn't think tha' stimulant would kick in so fast. There now, take it easy, yeh had a hard blow to the head there…" The man reached somewhere out of sight to retrieve a cold, damp cloth, then carefully pressed it to the swollen bruise on Carth's temple.

"Ow," Carth croaked, eyeing the old man cautiously. "Who are you?"

The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Oh, I'm Gammon Dugbit. And yeh'd be Carth Onasi, yes. I've heard a yeh."

"I bet," Carth muttered.

"Oh no," Gammon insisted, "not jus' from this business with Vogga. I heard a yeh before, from the Mandalorian Wars and the fight against tha' crazy Malak."

Carth had to admit this news surprised him. "Really?"

"Yes," Gammon replied. "I meself am a Republic supporter. Shame though, tha' even though Malak is dead the war ain't over. Not sure if it'll ever be over, know what I mean?"

Carth merely grunted. He didn't want to think about what it might take to stop Revan, now that she had established such a hold on the galaxy.

"Have to admit I was much surprised to see yeh on Nar Shaddaa," Gammon went on, continuing to dab Carth's bruise as he talked. "'Specially in the employ of someone like Vogga. Thought yeh'd be out and about still, yeh know, givin' Revan hell like y'all did Malak."

The noise that came from Carth's throat was more like a growl than any kind of response.

"How did yeh end up here, anyway, if yeh don't mind me askin'?"

"I do mind," Carth snapped, jerking his head away from the cloth.

Gammon stopped, watching Carth in silence for a moment, but then he shrugged and tossed the bloodied rag into a nearby bucket. "Oh. Well then forget I said anything. Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to put yeh on the defensive. Though I was wondering, did yeh really steal that spice?"

"Of course I didn't. Fassa set me up."

The man nodded, as if satisfied by this answer. "Of course yeh didn't. I knew yeh didn't. No Republic soldier would do such a thing, I told meself. Yeh all are trained better than tha'. No thieves among the Republic's ranks-"

No, no thieves… just traitors.

"Do you have a purpose?" Carth interrupted loudly; Gammon's constant jabbering wasn't helping his head any. "Or are you just here to talk me to death?"

Gammon fell silent, looking hurt. But he recovered swiftly. "Actually I serve as what yeh might call Vogga's medic. Though I never had much school in doctorin'. Lets me help people out though, when I can. Course… it also means I have to do some rather unpleasant jobs…" He looked suddenly uncomfortable.

Carth watched the man warily. Now that he had a chance to look around some more, he saw the room resembled an unsettling cross between a medic's operating room and a torture chamber. And he happened to be lying on the only table equipped with restraints. He decided he didn't very much like this situation. But then, he hadn't liked any of the situations he'd found himself in during the past year. "Exactly what sort of unpleasant jobs?"

Gammon wrung his hands together. "Well, er… see… Vogga's ordered yeh're to be marked for thievery…"

Carth lifted his eyebrows, encouraging the man to go on.

"And… well…," the man dropped his eyes to the floor. "It'll hurt. A lot. Tha's the whole purpose of it, a course. Sorry."

Carth turned his eyes back to the ceiling. "Yah. Sorry."

There was a brief silence. "I have a sedative I can give yeh though," Gammon offered hopefully, as if the suggestion would make Carth forgive him for what he was about to do. "Yeh'll still feel the pain a bit, but the drug would dull the worst of it. Course, I ain't supposed to give it to yeh… but long as yeh don't tell anyone…" He glanced around the empty room, as if afraid of being overheard.

"How about we skip the whole marking part?" Carth suggested. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

Gammon fidgeted. "Well… I would if I could… but he'll check, Vogga will. He knows I don't like doing it… he don't trust me all tha' much. I respect what yeh've done for the Republic and all but… well, no offense, but yeh ain't worth dyin' over."

Carth closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "Right. No offense."

"Here. Yeh can have this, though." Carth felt a prick in the bend of his right elbow as the sedative was administered. "Should start working in a few minutes. I'll go get the brand ready."

Carth's eyes snapped open again. "The what?"

"I'm sorry. I really am. I hate doing this, yeh know."

Carth turned his head carefully to look over at Gammon and was horrified to see the man bearing a long iron brand, the head of which glowed bright neon orange. He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to take deep, even breaths. He waited for the sedative to take effect, but it didn't seem to be working. Or maybe there was just too much adrenaline in his system….

"I'll make this quick, promise," Gammon was saying. "Just a light touch, just enough to leave a mark. It'll be over before yeh know it. And the pain is only temporary. It'll fade before too long, at least tha's what they say-"

"Just shut up and get it over with," Carth ground out between his teeth. Nothing Gammon said was going to make him feel any better. Only one thought helped to steel his nerves, and that was the knowledge that he had survived HK's Silencer device. He didn't remember much of that experience, but judging from what he could recall, there could be no greater physical agony in the universe. Of that he was certain.

"I'm going to shut him down." The words left Carth's mouth before he consciously realized it.

"Eh? Shut who down?" Gammon was clearly taken aback by Carth's abrupt statement.

"Vogga," Carth slurred, and the heaviness of his tongue made him happy. At least now he knew the sedative was working. "When I get outta here, after she's dead, I'm coming back to shut him down. Get him for illegal smuggling. Take everything he has. Destroy him."

"Er… yes…well," Gammon stammered, flustered by the bold words and glancing around the room again. "Yeh just remember when yeh come back that I never wanted to do this, yah?"

"Sure," Carth murmured. His body seemed to be floating. He liked this drug.

"Um… outta curiosity… after who's dead?"

"Revan."

"Revan's a woman?" Gammon squawked, and there was a loud clang as he dropped the brand. "By all the unholy suns… I – I never knew… she was always wearin' tha' mask…"

"Oh yes," Carth replied. "She's a woman." The irony. And for reasons unknown even to himself, he started laughing.

TO BE CONTINUED...