A/N - As a point of reference, the events of this update parallel the previous chapter, starting immediately after Penn breaks up Isabet and Canderous' argument. M.

oo-oo

With one leg extended and the other folded against his chest, Penn gulped all that remained of his warm caffa, savoring every last drop of its honeyed yet robust blend. A shiver ran down his spine as he nestled his back against the cargo hold's cool metal walls, set his thermal mug to the side, and reached for Carth's red and yellow datapad from the floor beside him.

Just as expected, the longtime pilot's device was connected to the Republic's official personnel database. Eager to disprove the ludicrous theory he'd concocted in the Shadowlands, Penn tapped the blank search box before hesitating. "This is so damn stupid," he mumbled, stifling a bitter laugh as he shook his head. Then, he typed ten letters into the designated space:

T-H-A-Y-E-R - - P-E-N-N.

Instantly, a readout of his entire career with the Republic appeared on-screen. Having never read his official file before and finding himself especially curious given the nature of his research, Penn started from the beginning. "Name: Penn Laszlo Thayer. Laszlo?" Penn chortled, finding his previously unknown middle name humorous. "Height: 1.90 meters. Hair: dark brown. Eyes: light brown. Date of birth: tenth month, sixth day. Age: 30. Homeworld: Deralia. Classification: scout. Security clearance: level seven. Current status: active, on assignment," he quietly read aloud, his voice trailing until he zeroed in on the section labeled DEPLOYMENT HISTORY. "Here we go..."

According to the Republic's records, Penn enlisted the day of his seventeenth birthday at a recruitment station on his homeworld. The majority of his career had been spent on Onderon at a small base just outside of Iziz, save for five months of classified reconnaissance work and his transfer to the Endar Spire. Although his supposition of a past life was being handily debunked by the Republic's seemingly infallible documentation, Penn wanted to rid his mind of his theory once and for all. Resting Carth's datapad atop his thigh, he grabbed his sleek, personalized gift from Bastila, logged onto the Holonet and tapped the search box, hoping to douse his lingering flicker of doubt through simple comparison.

D-A-R.

Contemplating just how preposterous his idea was, Penn paused. This is ridiculous he thought, though something deep inside spurred him onward, forcing him to complete his investigation.

D-A-R-T-H - - R-E-V-A-N.

In the blink of an eye, several million entries pertaining to the Dark Lord flashed across the screen. Some were devoted to near worship of the man. Others spewed hate and anger. Still others were dedicated to conspiracy theories, including the popular idea that Revan was actually a woman. Hoping to find straight-forward, accurate information amongst the conspiracy-riddled clutter, Penn clicked an archived news entry from a source whose name he vaguely recognized. Instantly, the voice of a Hapan woman resounded from his device.

"Today marked the fall of the Revanchist and the Dark Lord of the Sith himself, Darth Revan," the reporter announced, her voice devoid of emotion. "In a covert operation conducted by the Jedi Order in alliance with the Republic fleet, seven Jedi boarded the Dark Lord's flagship cruiser, the Enigma, and defeated the masked leader. Young Jedi Knight Bastila Shan of Talravin, the strike team's leader and lone survivor, will be formally honored by the Galactic Senate later this week for her heroic actions resulting in Darth Revan's demise." The mention of his lover brought a smile to Penn's face, however, the smile was short lived. The Hapan reporter's soothing voice was replaced by a soundbite featuring the ever-grouchy Jedi Master he loathed.

"Revan was a monster," Master Vrook proclaimed. "A low life. A menace. An animal. Absolute scum and far more toxic than any Mandalorian threat the Republic faced during the Wars. But now, his reign has ended and his dark sided filth is washing away. Under my guidance, strategic insight and tutelage of the strike team, we've rid the galaxy of -"

Weary of Vrook's attempt to take credit for the courageous acts of Bastila and the six fallen Jedi, Penn fast-forwarded until the Hapan's report resumed. "...in accordance with the Galactic Republic's long-standing censorship laws, images of Revan's body will not be released to the public on account of the reportedly gruesome nature of his injuries at the time of his expiration. However, Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic Tol Cressa, along with Jedi Masters Vrook Lamar, Lonna Vash, Zez-Kai Ell, Vandar Tokare and Zhar Lestin have all confirmed Darth Revan's death in sworn affidavits exclusively obtained by NOVA. In light of this development, the Republic Intelligence Bureau has released previously unknown details of the notoriously private Dark Lord to the public, which can be accessed via this entry. The Republic has not commented on whether Darth Revan's apprentice, Darth Malak, was also killed in the strike. Amariis Ellaepo reporting for NOVA."

Although he was all but convinced that his and Revan's identity were in no way, shape, or form intertwined or remotely related thanks to simple facts and logic, his pulse quickened as he opened the attached Republic statement. "Name: Revan Orus Drex. Height: 1.71 meters. Hair: brown. Eyes: light green. Date of birth: seventh month, seventeenth day. Age (at time of death): 34. Homeworld: Serenno. And I. Am. An. Idiot," he dryly chuckled, slapping his palm against his forehead.

Giving himself a moment to process his findings, Penn sat in silence as a puzzling blend of emotions brewed inside. On one hand, he was relieved; relieved his hands were not stained by the blood of innumerable Jedi, Republic soldiers and Mandalorian warriors. Relieved he was not the controversial figure worshiped by some, but reviled by others. And most of all, he was relieved his identity was his and his alone, completely separate from that of Darth Revan.

On the opposite hand, he was ashamed; ashamed he'd nearly convinced himself that something so unfathomable and drastic could possibly be true. That the true reason for his memory loss and his connection to the Star Maps had something to do with a lost identity, a secret past life. That an elaborate cover-up had been fabricated and executed by high ranking Republic officials and the Jedi Council to conceal the truth of what became of Revan that fateful day. Besides, it was all but impossible and punishable by death to falsify official Republic records, and deceiving the entire galaxy into believing a lie was unethical and morally corrupt, something the Jedi Council would never partake in.

Or would they?

Realizing he was beginning to sound as paranoid as the conspiracy theorists he'd encountered during his search - and, at times, a certain Republic pilot who was slow to trust others - Penn locked the datapads before moving to his feet, plagued by an unexpected hint of disappointment. He stepped into the hall where he was promptly greeted by Mission.

"Penn," she grinned, her teeth and tongue stained bright yellow, presumably by the pieces of candy in her upturned palm. "I've been lookin' all over for ya. Some of us are gonna play pazaak in the main hold in a few minutes. Wanna join?"

Wanting nothing more than to rest his mind and body, Penn deeply exhaled, preparing to turn Mission down. "I would, but -"

"Please?" she begged. "Candy even convinced Juhani to play. She never plays. It'd make my day if you play too. It'd be more fun." Hoping to sway her friend's decision, the teen folded her hands and dramatically enlarged her brown eyes, giving Penn her most convincing pouty face. "Please, Penn? Please?"

"Dammit, Mish, don't make that face," Penn groaned, incapable of saying 'no' when the Twi'lek looked at him in that manner, a fact she was fully aware of. "You're playing dirty."

"Is it workin'?" Mission asked, puffing her sulky lower lip just a little more.

"A little too well," he laughed, planting a light kiss atop her crown before resuming his trek to the cockpit. "Alright, you win. Just give me a minute. I need to return Carth's datapad and grab a shirt."

Having locked Carth and Isabet in the cockpit not twenty minutes prior, Mission knew she needed to stop Penn from interrupting the private moment between the odd couple. "Uh…" she croaked, scurrying to block Penn's path. "I-I was just talkin' to Carth and he said he wants you to put his stuff on his bunk. He's uh, he's takin' a nap...'cause he's tired…yeah…"

"Tired?" Penn repeated skeptically, eyeing her with suspicion before allowing her latest scheme to proceed unchallenged. "Start the game without me. I'll be back soon." Imagining what hijinks the teen may be up to, he charted a new course for the men's starboard dormitory.

After placing Carth's datapad onto his bed, Penn retrieved his typical wear - a long-sleeved, woven henley shirt - from his belongings before moving to lay on his bunk, needing a private moment to calm his mind. The rumbled sheets bore witness that someone had recently disturbed his usually tidy bed, but he barely noticed as he rested his head upon his firm pillow, enjoying the solace provided by the silence.

The silence was fleeting, however, interrupted within seconds by someone entering the dormitory and slamming the heavy door behind. "Absolutely disgusting," Bastila mumbled, oblivious to Penn's presence as she smoothed her shirt; the same shirt he'd given her on Tatooine. "Never again will I - Penn," she interrupted her own train of thought, a nervous smile finding its way to her lips as she edged closer to his mattress. "You're finally here."

Honing in on the implication, Penn smiled warmly. "You were waiting for me?" he inquired from the comfort of his bed, propping himself onto an elbow.

"Well, yes," she sheepishly admitted. "I waited here for a half hour or so, but I mistakenly brushed against the exposed pipe near your bed, so my hands were covered in grease. When I went to the refresher to rinse them, I noticed someone had made a horrible mess and hadn't cleaned after themselves, so I began tweaking the plumbing system, which is in desperate need of repair, by the way, and I -" Noticing the amused expression plastered across Penn's face at her ramblings, Bastila clumsily ended her story. "I washed my hands," the flustered Jedi stated, lifting her clean hands as evidence.

"Glad to hear it," he chuckled, finding her more adorable than ever.

Eyeing the expanse of unclaimed territory beside him, Bastila gestured to the pale blue sheets, Isabet's advice to be confident swirling in her mind. "Would you mind if I lay beside you for a moment?"

Surprised but delighted by her proposition, Penn scooted back, providing an even larger space for her. "Of course not, babe." Suddenly timid, Bastila took her place beside him, keeping a buffer of several inches between their bodies, making Penn laugh. "Get over here," he said, wrapping his arm around her and drawing her close until no distance remained. "You should wear this more often," he touched the now-scandalous cutoff undershirt that had once been his. "You look much better in my clothes than I do."

"I don't know about that," she replied, not quite grasping his flirtation. "I think you fill out your clothes quite nicely," Bastila noted as she nestled herself against his chest. "I had expected to find you here earlier."

"If I would've known you were waiting, I would've come sooner. The shower was finally available, so I was taking advantage of the lull," he motioned to his loose, slightly damp hair, "then I -" Pondering as to whether he should reveal the true nature of his research to Bastila, Penn stopped short before cautiously proceeding. "I decided to do a bit of research for the mission."

"Were you?" Bastila queried. "Concerning what? Manaan?"

"Uh, no. Revan," he replied, making Bastila's heart race. Sensing her sudden anxiety, Penn took on a carefree tone. "Or as Vrook likes to call him, 'that monster'," he joked, delivering a spot-on rendition of the grumpy Jedi Master.

"Revan is not a monster," Bastila icily interjected, sounding more passionate on the issue than both Penn and she herself could have expected. "I-I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound cross and I'm not angry with you by any means. It's just -" Realizing Penn possessed a negative outlook in regards to Revan, Bastila paused, crafting her statement with care. While this may not be the appropriate moment to reveal the full truth, it was the perfect opportunity to slowly acclimate Penn to the idea of his true identity. "Revan was a good man who made several terrible, terrible choices. He was cocky, headstrong and impulsive, yes, but he was also intelligent, extremely clever and far more talented than I could ever hope to be." The corners of her lips curved, forming a faint smile as she continued describing whatshe loved most about the man holding her tight. "He was always kind and respectful no matter who you were and was, by far, the most caring individual I've ever met. And to add to it all, he was quite witty and ridiculously charming, which made him exceedingly popular, though he preferred to be in smaller groups or in one-on-one settings. Everyone loves to portray him as this horrible monstrosity of a man now that Malak is the Dark Lord, but none of those people understood Revan. At least, not like I did. Not-not like I do."

Evidenced by the impassioned defense of the man despised by many, Penn came to the startling realization that Bastila's first love was none other than the Dark Lord himself, Darth Revan. Revan, the man whom an entire galaxy lauded her for assassinating, and whose bleak story would forever be intertwined with her own. Sliding the final piece of the tragic puzzle into place, Penn treaded carefully. "Sounds like everyone is wrong about him," he humbly conceded.

"Yes, they are," Bastila nodded, gazing into the eyes of her first and only love."I don't pretend to make excuses for the things he did, but he was - and still is - misunderstood. It may sound cliche, but Revan was an absolutely beautiful person in every sense of the word. And he saved my life in more ways than one."

Flooded with guilt for mocking a man she still held dear despite being forced to kill at the behest of the Jedi Council, Penn abruptly changed the subject, hoping to distract her from any painful recollections he may have stirred. "Some memories have been a little hazy for me since the anakkona attack on Kashyyyk, but I do remember you asking to read my dreams once we got back to the ship," Penn recalled, glancing at his love through the corner of his eye. "For the most part, they're all relatively mundane and I don't find them all that interesting, but if you'd like to read some now, they're all yours." Her interest piqued, Bastila simply nodded. "Hold on a sec," Penn murmured, carefully rolling his body over hers to wriggle his datapad free from its place beneath his mattress before lying beside her once more.

As Penn thumbed in the datapad's locking code, Bastila watched him in quiet admiration. The way his eyes focused so intently on the task at hand. The way his lips mouthed the words he was thinking so rapidly, though no words were uttered. The way he rubbed his left eyebrow when he was deep in thought, a silly quirk she'd grown to love years ago.

Alerted his attempt at entry was successful by a light click, Penn handed the unlocked datapad to Bastila. "All yours, babe." Nodding her thanks, she took the device and glided her fingertips across its flat surface before leaning in to place a slow, gentle kiss upon his cheek. "Not that I mind, but what was that for?" Penn smiled as Bastila cupped his cheek, shocked by her display of affection.

"Just for being you,"Bastila answered, smoothing her thumb across Penn's lips as she recalled her fondest memories of Revan."Besides, you looked so cute a moment ago, I just couldn't resist," she admitted, the coquettish reply that previously would have gone unsaid seeing the light of day thanks in part to Isabet's threat of an advance. Emboldened by his grin and sensing his interest through his body language, Bastila smiled as she closed her eyes and guided his mouth to hers.

Lost in the moment, she instinctively wrapped her leg around Penn as he drew her closer than she'd ever thought possible. Neither noticed a third party had entered the dormitory until familiar, gruff laughter sounded from the room's corner, snapping Bastila back to reality. "Good talk, Penn," Bastila gasped, acting as if she hadn't been caught in the compromising position by Canderous as she wiped her lips and withdrew her leg. However, when the Mandalorian's guffaws continued longer than absolutely necessary, Bastila scowled as he sifted through his belongings. "I'm sorry," she huffed, "is there something funny, Mr. Ordo?"

"Eh, hehe, nah, nah," Canderous shook his head as he rose, personalized pazaak deck in hand. "Just always had you pegged as a prude, not the one leading the damn charge, princess. Never the one's you'd expect, huh, slim? Attaboy, Thayer," the Mandalorian barked with laughter, slapping Penn's upturned shoulder in a display of brotherhood as he made his way to the exit. "Horny Jedi," he chuckled beneath his breath, slamming the door with enough power to trigger the door's inner locking mechanism.

Angered and embarrassed by Canderous' insinuation, Bastila turned to rest on her side, pressing her back against Penn's chest as she began scouring his dream log. "I am not...lustful or...repressed," Bastila growled, reluctant to use Canderous' crude terminology. "That reviling man…"

Capitalizing on their close proximity and hoping to pacify her annoyance toward his fellow crewman, Penn pulled Bastila's baggy top from the tuck of her leggings to caress her stomach before kissing her bare shoulder from behind. "Which one are you reading?"

Relishing the feel of his unshaven face brushing her delicate skin,Bastila's cheeks pinkened as she cleared her throat and began reading aloud. "You didn't list a date for this dream, but you dreamt of - oh my." Bastila's eyes widened as she read Penn's account of how the once attractive Alek lost his jaw. The entire galaxy had wondered, but none knew.

"What?" Penn squinted to see what she'd read, though she easily blocked his view of the screen.

"Nothing," she grinned, exiting the entry to read the next one whose title caught her eye.

As the two cuddled in blissful silence, Penn slid his hand further up her abdomen before deciding to up the ante. Being sure not to startle her or overstep her boundaries, he pulled her raised shoulder down, laying her flat on her back. "Penn," she laughed, craning her neck to investigate why he was venturing down the bed. "Penn, what are you doing?"

"Just take a deep breath and relax," he replied, his voice smokey and calm. "I'll take care of you. Trust me." Incapable of resisting the charm of his half smile and the warmth of his voice, Bastila nestled her head against the pillow as Penn continued rolling her shirt upwards until reaching the underside of her cleavage. Then, he lowered his head, brushing the space between her upper ribs with his smooth lips. The touch heightened every sense in her being - her pupils dilated, goosebumps cropped upon every inch of her skin and the sound of her heart racing thumped in her ears. The pleasure only grew stronger as he kissed her again, this time a little lower, closer to her core.

Continuing his mission of kissing her body - and slowly driving her mad with desire - Penn began tracing his cool fingertips along her warm skin. The faint line at the top of her abdomen. The dip of her rib cage. The soft part of her belly. Slipping into a state of euphoria as a heat settled in her core, Bastila resumed reading. "Twenty six days ago, you dreamt of an encounter with a blonde woman who you've identified as 'Ora'. According to your footnotes, she's been in quite a few of your dreams." Bastila continued scrolling, reading every torrid detail of the account before smirking. "Sounds rather steamy."

"Mhm," he mumbled against her skin.

"I must say, you're an incredibly talented writer," she commented. "You're very thorough. Very detailed."

"Thanks," Penn smiled, kissing her abdomen one last time before broaching a dicey subject. "Hey, babe, how about we stop reading for a bit?" he quietly suggested.

"Why?" Bastila laughed. "This is quite entertaining. It almost reads like a novel. A very risque one at that."

Unsure of how she may react to his proposition, Penn hesitated before deciding to take the plunge, using their indestructible Force bond to his advantage. "Because if you're willing, I'd rather be doing this," he responded, projecting an explicit mental image of his intended planto gratify her.

Instantly, Bastila cheeks burned, her entire face turning a deeper shade of red than either imagined humanly possible. "Penn," she exclaimed, completely mortified. However, when she took a second, deeper look into his kind eyes, Bastila found herself more than mildly tempted. "You, ah, you-you want to do that?"

"If you're comfortable with it, yes," Penn plainly answered, acknowledging the need to be straightforward with these matters for Bastila's sake. "You don't have to worry about returning the gesture," he anticipated her concern, knowing it was a notion she'd contemplated but was not yet comfortable with. "I'd like to do this for you, if you'll let me."

Waging an internal battle between her innermost desires and the code, Bastila trembled as she arrived at a decision neither her Master nor the Council would approve of. After years of brushing her own wants and needs aside on account of a series of rules she was beginning to care less and less about, she decided to put herself first. "Y-" Upon hearing the sound of her croaky voice, Bastila paused to clear her throat, though judging by his brightened eyes, it was obvious Penn knew her answer. "Yes," she stated with feigned confidence. "Yes, I'd very much like that. Thank you," Bastila sheepishly smiled before cringing, wondering if 'thank you' was an appropriate response for this sort of favor.

Seeing her grimace and sensing her worries, Penn chuckled, taking it in stride. "You're welcome," he said, leaning forward to grab a firm, unused pillow from the head of the bed. "Could you lift up for me, babe? You might be more comfortable this way." Awkwardly, Bastila jerked her lower half upward as Penn slipped the pillow beneath her, but instead of allowing her to slam herself onto it, he thoughtfully guided her down, making her want him that much more. "Relax," he calmed her with a warm smile. Slowly, he peeled away her leggings before placing them in a neat bunch on the floor.

Before he could remove her undergarment, Bastila cleared her throat. "Before we - well, you begin, may I read some of the dreams you've had about me? The ones you mentioned on Kashyyyk?"

"Of course," he amorously replied, placing a featherlight kiss on her thigh. "Whatever you want, babe. All the dreams about you are under 'Shan'."

Barely capable of concentration given Penn's continual soft kisses and the excited nerves clouding her mind, Bastila clicked the first entry under her surname.

This dream was far shorter than the rest, consisting of only a handful of text lines, though unlike all the others she'd read thus far, it involved her. It was simple, depicting a cool autumn night when Revan helped her study an ancient text whose contents she didn't quite understand. The memory of the late night study session filled her heart with warmth before she moved on. She perused the dream titles before seeing an entry entitled:

SHAN, HELENA.

Curious as to what this dream might consist of, she clicked it and began to read aloud."Two days ago you - you - y-"

"I what? Dreamt about another blonde?" Penn teased, bewildered as to why she'd stopped reading so abruptly and why her expression had turned grave. "Babe, is everything alright? Babe?"

"What is this?" Bastila asked in a hostile manner, wiggling off the bed as she tossed the datapad onto his lap. "Why do you have an ongoing tally of my mother's treatments?"

Penn glanced at the glowing screen before locking the device and stowing it beneath his mattress. "It's nothing," he exhaled, his plan to shield Bastila's pride beginning to crumble.

"Nothing?" she frowned, irked by his apparent lie. "That doesn't look like nothing to me."

Desperate to escape her harsh glare, Penn pushed himself off the bed, brushed past her, and began pacing about the room. "I said, it's nothing," Penn curtly replied, his tone stern and unyielding. "It's personal. Just drop it, ok?"

Growing more ornery by the second, Bastila blocked Penn's path, boxing him into a corner. "It's personal to you when it involves my mother?" Bastila narrowed her eyes as she rested her hands on her hips. "Exactly where is the logic in that?" she questioned, only to be met with silence. "Penn, why do you have that list?"

"Let the damn thing go," he growled. "It's pers-"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Penn Thayer!" she barked, momentarily losing control of her words and emotions. "I've been nothing but completely honest with you from the start. I deserve the truth!" The instant the falsehood crossed her lips, Bastila fell eerily silent. The irony of the fact that calling him 'Penn Thayer' was a lie in itself wasn't lost on the subdued Jedi, who quickly tried to recover. "I-I'm sorry," she apologized. "I shouldn't have -"

"No," Penn softly interrupted, hanging his head low. "No, you're right," he sighed, reluctant to deliver the news he knew would bruise Bastila's pride. "About three days after Helena arrived at the med station on Manaan, her doctors called the Hawk's holovid. Apparently there's a major time difference because they called in the middle of the night. I knew you'd been having trouble sleeping and since you were finally resting, I took the call. They uh," Penn paused to clear his throat, "they said based on her current funds, she wouldn't be able to afford her treatments, so they were planning to transfer her to a lesser, off-world facility that doesn't have the same resources as their station. Since I'm technically still a scout with the Republic and receive a weekly stipend, I've been sending it to the station to cover her expenses. It's not a ton, but it's enough. I've been keeping a tally so I'd know when to wire the next batch of credits since they don't accept direct payments or lump sums."

"That-that's impossible," Bastila stammered, though Penn's story possessed the dreaded ring of truth. "The medical station told me was being sponsored by a donor named -"

"Jaq Rand," Penn finished Bastila's sentence, much to her horror. "When the station's financial administrators asked for a name, I was in the middle of jotting down a dream. A man called 'Jaq Rand' was in it. I didn't want either of you to know it was me, so I used his name," he concluded, running his fingers through his own hair in frustration as Bastila hid her face. "Babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Battling the warm tears of humiliation welling in her eyes, Bastila pounded her fist against Penn's chest. "Why would you do that?!" she screeched, cheeks reddening. "She is my mother. She is my responsibility. You should have told me! I would have figured something out! I would have handled it! "

"I know," Penn sympathetically nodded, feeling Bastila's shame radiating through their bond. "You're right, I should have told you, but I didn't want you to worry. Babe," he began, easing her chin upward to look into her misty eyes, "you're an incredible woman. You do so much for everyone else without asking for a thing in return, and I'm not just referring to myself or the rest of the crew. I'm referring to an entire galaxy of people," he stated, struggling to comprehend the agony Bastila must have felt when killing her first love for the good of others. "You were never supposed to find out about this because I knew you'd be upset, but this is my way of saying thank you. This is my way of taking care of you. Of protecting you."

"Why are you always trying to protect me?!" she cried, squeezing her eyelids shut in an attempt to withhold her tears. "I don't need you jumping in front of damn explosions like you did on Dantooine and I don't need you taking blows that are rightfully mine," Bastila yanked his shirt from the tuck of his pants, revealing a thin, silvery scar, evidence of the anakkona's venom and subsequent stitching. "I can take care of myself and my mother."

"I know you can," he acknowledged, wiping the single tear rolling down her cheek. "You have for a long, long time and you've done one helluva job. I'm not trying to belittle that in any way. But babe, you deserve to have someone take care of you, and I include Helena in that statement because you love her. You deserve to have someone protect you, and I want to be that someone," he declared, earning a bitter snort from Bastila. "It's something you're going to have to get used to, babe, because I'm not going to stop, even after this mission is over. I'm never going to stop looking after you. You mean too much to me. You mean everything to me."

At a loss for words, Bastila stayed silent as she pressed the base of her palms against her forehead. "Why do you make this so difficult for me?" she brashly questioned, letting her heart speak for her as she paced. "I keep holding back on account of the code and the fear that you'll break my heart again, but then you do things like this, and you say things like that, and you make me want you all the more. The fact that your very presence makes me question all I've ever known to be true infuriates me, but I can't stay angry at you for long because the instant I look at you, I forget why I was angry in the first place. You're just kind, and considerate, and wonderful and-and-" Incapable of articulating the hurricane of emotions Penn awakened in her, Bastila bounded forward, Isabet's advice looming in her subconscious. With a groan of frustration and lust, she grabbed either side of Penn's face and roughly mashed her lips against his, kissing him with every fiber in her being before shoving him back, out of breath. "What do you have to say for yourself?!" Bastila demanded, brushing back her mussed hair to display her fierce expression.

Disregarding his confusion of what she might have meant by 'breaking her heart again', Penn's eyes darkened. "Babe," he flashed his infectious half smile, "I know this isn't the appropriate thing to say right now, but that was insanely sexy," Penn confessed, garnering a coy smile and blush from Bastila. Exuding the self-assurance Bastila had always found impossibly alluring, Penn slowly stepped forward, wrapped his arm around her waist, and rapidly pulled her close as a wanton feminine gasp crossed her lips. "My turn," Penn whispered in Bastila's ear before kissing her with even more zeal than she'd kissed him.

Taking in all they could of one another, Penn boldly slipped his hands beneath her shirt and began lifting it up, a risky move considering their history. Then, as he feared, it was clear he'd pushed too far - Bastila retreated from the kiss and his arms. "Sorry," Penn shyly apologized. "I got a little…carried…away…" At the shocking sight of Bastila unabashedly stripping away her own shirt, Penn froze.

Unaffected by the fact that she was nude, save for her set of intimate apparel, Bastila's voice rescued Penn from his stupor. "Are you going to take that off, or are you going to make me do it for you?" she smirked, her voice thick with longing.

Unable to help himself from teasing her, Penn rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to ponder the choices for several seconds before lifting his arms. "Let's go with option two," Penn mischieviously grinned.

Smiling as she ambled close, Bastila loosed the three buttons of Penn's placket before walking her fingers down the woven fabric of his shirt. Reveling in the moment, she rolled his shirt up, skimming her fingers along his lean muscle as she went. "Arms down, please," Bastila requested in a syrupy voice.

Enjoying the unexpected encounter and his lover's brazen flirtation, Penn obeyed as he slipped his arms free of the shirt.

Bastila stepped onto her tiptoes as she moved her face toward his, taking hold of the cloth bunched around his neck. "Close your eyes," she whispered just a breath from his lips, her sultry tone making all the blood in Penn's body run south. Stifling a contented laugh, Penn obeyed. Fully expecting a kiss, he readied himself by parting his lips, only to feel his shirt flipped over his face, rendering him momentarily blind. An awkward giggle escaped Bastila's lips as she pranced across the room and took cover behind a shaky end table, releasing her inhibitions and allowing the vivacious nature she'd been instructed by her Master to suppress take control.

"Oh," Penn chuckled, completing the removal of his shirt before tossing it to the corner. "You're gonna pay for that, babe," he laughed, chasing her around the oblong room as she squealed with glee. Finally, after several minutes of their cat-and-mouse game, Penn caught the fleet-footed Jedi from behind. Being sure not to apply too much pressure to her petite frame, he looped his strong arm around Bastila's bare waist and secured her against his hip, effortlessly lifting her off the floor. Penn toted Bastila the short distance to his bunk where he lay her before joining her on the mattress.

As he hovered over Bastila, Penn playfully grabbed either of her wrists and pinned them above her head with a single hand. However, before he could utter any words, he was struck by an epiphany. In spite of his memory loss, Penn realized he couldn't fathom life without the woman beneath him, nor would he ever want to. In that intimate moment, Penn realized he wanted to live out the rest of his days with Bastila by his side, as man and wife.

"What?" Bastila giggled, tilting her head in a way that drove Penn wild.

Choosing to keep his thoughts of a marriage proposal private for the time being, Penn kissed her jaw. "Nothing," he smiled, following his lie with a truth. "You're just absolutely stunning - I got a little caught up in you."

"Penn," she chastised, twisting her wrist free to lightly slap his arm. "But you know, you're not so hard on the eyes yourself," Bastila pressed up on his chest, carefully flipping Penn onto his back before rolling atop him.

"Is that so?" he smirked.

"Mhm," Bastila demurely nodded, massaging his chest as she straddled him. "You're absolutely brilliant. Devastatingly handsome. Without a doubt, the bravest man I've ever had the privilege of knowing. In certain instances, one could argue that you've come across as somewhat funny," she ribbed, grinning at the feel of Penn vibrating with soft laughter beneath her. "Your voice reminds me of velvet."

"Velvet?" Penn jovially questioned, moving his hands to caress her thighs.

"In a rugged, masculine way of course," Bastila explained as she lovingly pressed her thumb into the cleft of his chin. "It's just rich; and smooth; and comforting. Almost melodic really, though, the entire crew has overheard your unfortunate attempts to sing in the shower, so we definitely know 'melodic' isn't the proper word. Now, what else?" she mused, pinning his wrists above his head just as he had done to her, though it proved to be more of a struggle given her small hands. "You're selfless. The way you look at me makes me feel more special than I'd ever imagined possible; like I'm the only person in the room. You have the kindest, most gentle heart. There's no place in the galaxy I feel more safe than in your arms." The candor with which Bastila spoke brought an unusually shy smile to Penn's face, so to put him at ease once more, Bastila decided to tease him. "You're an excellent kisser," she complimented, leaning down to steal an innocent peck before squinting her eyes and curling her pillowy lips inward to evaluate his kiss. "Mhm, yes. Very good. I suppose it's worth mentioning that you have an impressive physique. I can understand how some people might find you attractive."

"Some people?" Penn chuckled. "Anyone I know by chance?"

"Well, between you and I, I think Canderous has taken a liking to you," she deadpanned with a devilish smile, earning a roar of laughter from Penn. Once their gales of laughter at the Mandalorian's expense subsided, Bastila added one final item to her list, adopting a soft tone that left no doubt of her sentiment's sincerity. "And you are very, very much loved."

Touched by Bastila's willingness to be forthright with her affection, Penn freed his wrists from her loose grip and curled into a seated position, resting his hands upon her curves. "By you?" he quietly asked, bewitched by her grey eyes.

"Especially by me," Bastila whispered, lowering herself to engage him in the most passionate kiss she'd ever given or received.

Time seemed to stand still as she threaded her slender fingers in his unbound hair, holding him close. The sensation of Penn's hand wandering up her back sent a shiver down her spine; a shiver that only intensified when he released the clasp of her undergarment with a single hand. However, before their tryst could escalate, the rattling of the door's knob halted the couple.

"Why's this door locked?" Jolee questioned from the hall, jiggling the knob to no avail. Each smothering their laughter, Penn lifted a finger to his lips, wordlessly requesting continued silence as he leaned forward to lay atop her, shielding her body from sight with his. "Anyone in there? Son? Bah! Damn ship's overcrowded until you actually need to find someone. Then they're all off doing whatever youths do these days," he grumbled, giving the door a swift kick as he accepted defeat. "Hmph."

Once absolutely sure Jolee was beyond earshot, Penn broke the silence. "Well that would've been uncomfortable," he chuckled as Bastila pressed her lips against his, joining in his laughter. Their ribs and lungs growing sore, their laughter continued as they rolled through the sheets, nearly tumbling off the narrow mattress countless times. But soon, their laughter gave way to passion as their limbs intertwined in a mess of love.

The next few moments were blurred, yet vivid and incredibly clear. Slow and deliberate, yet lightning fast, wild and reckless. Each helped the other out of their remaining garments, rendering themselves completely vulnerable with one another. For Bastila, the encounter was unlike anything she'd ever experienced - Penn's hands were everywhere, yet focused and attentive, touching exactly where she longed to be touched. Knowing the inevitable crescendo of their passion was nearing, Bastilacouldn't help but smile. Never in all her years had she ever wanted something or someone quite so much, however, the moment of ecstasy was ephemeral.

As she ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp with her short fingernails, Bastila skimmed down to the nape of his neck, grazing a dented scar marking his skin. During her rescue of Darth Revan, she'd unintentionally given him the mark whilst dragging him to safety across the Enigma's debris-ridden floors.

The scar was sobering, reminding her of who he truly was, who he once had been, and the web of lies in which she found herself hopelessly entangled. Despite the urge to sweep it to the darkest corner of her mind, just as she had with the code, the thought of betraying Penn's trust further and causing irreparable damage to their relationship was too much. "Penn?" she whispered, feelings of guilt beginning to simmer.

Thoroughly preoccupied kissing her neck and collarbone, Penn mumbled against her skin. "Mhm?"

"P-" Suddenly incapable of speech due to his touch, Bastila arched her back and closed her eyes, knowing the longer she waited, the harder it would be to stop. "Penn!" she shrieked.

Immediately, Penn stopped kissing her and looked directly into her eyes, signalling his undivided attention. "Penn," Bastila softly began. "In my heart, I want this more than you can possibly imagine, but it's - I - we - I just -"

"You can't," Penn finished her thought, disappointment coursing through his veins. "I know."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, lightly rubbing his arms on either side of her body. "I thought I would be able to, but..."

Closing his eyes and resting his forehead on hers, Penn took a deep breath. "It's fine," he murmured, wondering where he'd gone wrong. Channeling the earlier surge of love he'd felt when he realized he wanted to marry her to overcome his letdown, Penn continued. "I'm willing to wait for you."

Her heartstrings tugged by the sincerity of his words, Bastila twisted her fingers in his hair, though like Penn, kept her eyes closed. "But for how long?" she quietly inquired, both out of fear she may lose him and guilt for monopolizing the attention and affections of a man who may despise her once he learned the truth.

"For as long as it takes," he promised, lovingly grazing his thumb along her cheekbone. "You're more than worth it."

Unable to formulate a response that fully encompassed how much what he'd said meant to her, Bastila stayed silent as Penn kissed the tip of her nose before lifting himself off her. Suddenly cold, the Jedi watched as her lover grabbed a sheet from an unused bunk, wrapped it around his waist and neared the door. "Where are you going?" Bastila asked.

"Shower," he answered. When Bastila tilted her head, clearly confused, Penn pursed his lips as he pointed down, remembering her naïveté in regards to the male anatomy.

"Oh," she blushed, looking on as Penn gathered his articles of clothing spread across the floor. "Penn," Bastila called in a hushed tone, propping herself against the durasteel headboard as she motioned for him to come close. "I truly am sorry," she reiterated, lacing her fingers with his. "It was wrong of me to push you this far. Rebuffing you is the absolute last thing I want to do. It's just - this - this isn't your fault."

"Could I have done anything different?" Penn questioned.

"No," she solemnly shook her head. "You were perfect. It's something I should have done differently long ago that's holding me back. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have." Rekindling the fire ignited in her before leaving Kashyyyk, Bastila breathed deep, readying herself to make a vow that would change the course of both their lives and potentially, the fate of the galaxy. "This may only add to your confusion right now, but I swear to you on everything I am, before we leave Manaan, I will explain exactly what I mean. This just isn't the right time - I'm not quite ready. I need you to trust me a little while longer."

Although Bastila was right - her promise only added to his confusion - Penn glanced at their joined hands before nodding, choosing to trust her judgement. "Ok," he agreed, his furrowed brows easing.

Sharing one final kiss to cap an encounter both envisioned having an entirely different outcome, Penn loosed Bastila's grip on his hand and slipped outside, hoping to go unnoticed by the rest of the crew given his compromised state.

In their hearts, each knew Manaan would be a pivotal point not only in their relationship, but also in their lives. For Penn, Manaan would be the place where his new life with Bastila would take shape; where his life would truly begin and where memories to replace those he'd lost would be forged. For Bastila, Manaan was the place where the tormenting fears haunting her sleep would come to fruition; where the romance and life she'd secretly dreamt of but never imagined possible would meet its fiery end, shattering before her very eyes.

A/N - Thanks for reading!

Hopefully the racier nature of this didn't rattle anyone too terribly. This was one of those chapters where I struggled with several different routes (will they/won't they, will she tell/won't she, etc.) for quite a while, but I felt this was the most in-character result. That, and the pending plans for Manaan would seem very disjointed if things had gone differently.

Also, I received a PM asking why the updates have been much slower as of late (which I sincerely apologize for): I've been studying for the LSAT over the past few weeks, which, as those of you who may be familiar with the test know, takes up a HUGE portion of my free time. On the same note, in the interest of giving my brain (which is rapidly turning into a pile of mush) a breather, I probably won't start writing the next update until after June 9th (date of the test). But, if I start taking too long to crank out the next update, feel free to give me a kick in the pants via review or PM.

We're over 100 reviews! Yay! Thanks for all your support thus far! As always, your reviews, suggestions, etc., are very much appreciated! Thanks again!