"You were lying to me, Jane."
Dammit!
"How so?" Her words, calm, but not in the way that one might hope—she sounded deadly.
"You felt her as surely as I did. You had a vision."
"So? What of it? We know she'll be on Hrax, and you can have your jollies with her once again."
"I thought you said you'd never lied!" Was that the cause of his rage? "And how am I supposed to trust you?"
"I wasn't even sure it was a vision, Revan. I thought it might be, but visions here are almost as uncertain as one's ability to cling to the light. It could have as easily been some kind of ridiculous shared dream. Did you see Malachor through my eyes? And Atton's nightmare?"
"No." That, if anything, seemed to disturb the Sith more.
"So, what did you see?"
"I didn't see anything. I felt her, stronger than a disturbance, and heavier than the pull you have on me. She's done something, I know it."
"Done what?" He couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice, or the rage. How dare the damned Sith interrupt them like that?
"I… don't know."
"Well, there's no sense in worrying about it," she said. "We're in hyperspace now, and will be for almost two weeks, so you might as well forget about it, unless you know how to jump space on your lonesome without a ship."
"I don't like this, Jane. Not at all. I can't feel her like I used to, and I can't see inside her mind the way I could when we traveled together. She's like a knot in my gut and a hook in my mind."
"She misses you for whatever perverse Sith-like excuse that passes for love. So take that 'love,' or whatever you call it, and find your consolation there."
"There is no consolation, Jane, only passion and fear."
"I can't help you with that."
"Oh, if there was anyone who could, it would be you." The Sith version of flirting sounded like a grating gasket, or a misaligned hyperdrive.
"I'm a little taken at the moment, Revan, and even if I wasn't, I still would rather jab a lightsaber in my gut than even think of it."
"Nice to know you forgive me."
"Revan…"
"What, Jane?"
"If you want me to forgive you, leave me the hell alone, all right?"
"You're no fun." The Sith breezed past the workbench almost like a shriveled autumn leaf. "Who destroyed this?" He held up the cracked datapad, pinching it between his thumb and index finger.
"It met with an accident."
"Oh, Pada—"
"Atton. His name is Atton, as you damn well know," Jay said, her voice stern. "I'll fix it later, when I work on HK-47. You were supposed to fix him, you know."
Revan dropped the pad on top of the plasma torch, and the thing shattered. "I have another datapad sitting around somewhere. Don't bother, Jane." And at that, he rushed toward his own quarters.
"That went better than expected," she said when the Sith's presence no longer fouled the air like a rotting corpse.