Hours, for eight hours Carth floated in and out of consciousness while he relived every moment he spent with Morgana, remembering her touch, her eyes, her kiss, and her soft voice telling him to be happy. It was easier said than done, but having spent even that brief time with her, made him feel that perhaps now, it would be possible. She was happy, and maybe that's what he needed to know in his heart; that his failure to save her had been forgiven.
Between those moments of memory and consciousness, he experienced his time in the temple and didn't know where to start to unravel everything he had learned. Jaden was the one True Jedi, so did that mean she was the most powerful? Was she the 'boss' of the other Jedi? Then there was the legend and the keys. The Midiclorians told him nothing, only that if Zared found the second key it would lead him to the third, which meant back to them. What were the keys supposed to open? It wasn't the doors to the temple, and he saw no gates, walls, or anything else that would require a key. This was one reason why he always cringed when it came to the Force. Even being able to wield it brought him no closer to understanding its mythical powers or its unique language. We are her strength. We are her weakness. Without both, she is nothing. Together, she is complete. What the hell did that mean? Carth, in his gut, knew that was important, his thoughts were a tangle mass that caused his head to pound despite all the time he spent in the Kolto tank. He needed time alone to think, but he didn't believe that was going to be possible.
During one moment of consciousness, Bastila and Tuluk had been at the waiting room window. You need to trust me, he thought seeing Bastila clearly concerned, and listening intently to what Tuluk was saying. At another point Kwyn and Atton were there, Visas came with Canderous and lastly Dustil and Jaden, who made faces at him when they realized he was awake. Good thing he had on a respirator because he couldn't help but chuckle at their antics. He wanted to demand answers from her but what would he ask? What does it mean to be the True Jedi? What do the keys do? What makes you complete? Why didn't you let Morgana see me before now? Didn't those few steps prove how much she means to me? Why are you making me feel like a cheating cur when she's been dead for years?
~~ Those feelings are your own. ~~
Why am I still hearing the Force?
~~ Because you still share its connection. ~~
Carth was distracted from his thoughts when the med techs came to drain the Kolto. An hour later, showered and once again examined, he was in the private room getting dressed. It was late, and he wanted to sleep, but there was something he needed to do first.
"What are you doing?"
Carth looked over his shoulder as he gingerly shrugged on his shirt. Bastila stood in the doorway. "What do you want?" he asked looking away from her. Their conversation from the morning was still fresh in his mind and it hurt him that she wouldn't trust that he knew what he was doing.
"The doctor said you refused to stay the night for observation."
"I'm fine."
"You are not fine," she said coming into the room and touching his arm, "you suffered cell degeneration."
Carth looked over at her and shook his head before reaching for his jacket. "I'm sleeping in my own bed."
Bastila watched as he put on the coat. He was pale, exhausted, and still in pain, each movement causing a wince. One of the things she loved about Carth was his strength and to see that slowly drained from him was breaking her heart. His stubbornness was always a sore point with her, but it was costing him his life and she couldn't stand by and do nothing. "How much more will you endure before you admit she is killing you? Admit she is a Sith?"
Carth turned around to answer Bastila and saw Jaden leaning against the doorjamb, her arms and ankles crossed, her jaw a colorful display and her lip swollen on the left side. He cocked a brow at her.
"I beat up Canderous," she said with a painful, distorted smile.
Hearing Jaden's voice, Bastila spun around and demanded, "What are you doing here? Haven't you done enough?"
Carth walked around Bastila and stopped next to Jaden. He reached out and lightly touched her chin. She held his gaze as his gentle touch spread warmth though her body easing the aches and pains. "Play nice?" he asked and Jaden nodded. "I need to talk to Dustil." She nodded again. Carth turned to his friend, at least he hoped she was still his friend despite their differences in this matter, "Trust me, Bastila, she's not Sith," he said before running the back of his fingers over her jaw before walking away.
~~ You told him? ~~
~~ Only that you are the one True Jedi. ~~
Dustil's quarters were with the other VIP's, one deck below the officers. No one else ever used it; it was Dustil's even though he didn't travel very often on the Sojourn. Privileged because he was the Admiral's son? Sure, but Carth didn't care how it looked. Besides, some of the work Dustil did for the Jedi Council was sensitive. Having his own space gave him room to work and assured his privacy.
The corridor of durasteel and bright fabric panels was quiet as he approached Dustil's door. Most everyone would be asleep, and probably his son as well, but he couldn't wait until morning. Seeing Morgana only reminded him that her death and what happened after Telos still stood between them despite the fact they pretended it was behind them. Morgana's comment about why Dustil really left the Sith brought the 500-pound Ronto clearly back into the room. He paced a few times before he hesitated once, drew in a deep breath, and rang the buzzer.
When Dustil answered, he was dressed in loose pants that appeared to have more holes than fabric, his shirt untucked, a shadow of a beard, and his hair thoroughly mussed from repeated raking by fingers. So like his father, Morgana's words echoed through his mind. He looks just like me, he thought, when I was that age. My little boy grew up, and that thought made him sad.
"You're out!"
"Yeah. Can I come in?"
Dustil pushed aside the surprise and stepped back. "Sorry it's a mess."
Carth smiled as he looked around. Some things didn't change despite your age. There were data pads strewn around on various surfaces and Dustil's main computer hummed quietly on the desk under the window. The quarters were similar to his, just on a much smaller scale. "What are you working on?" he asked shedding his jacket.
"Hmm? Oh, Tuluk," Dustil answered pulling away from his thoughts. His father rarely came here so he was surprised, and suspicious, he would come so late.
"Find anything?" Carth asked as he picked up Dustil's jacket, holding it close as he sat in a chair.
"No. He was an exemplary Padawan, Apprentice, and Knight and he passed the trials to become a Master with ease."
That didn't surprise Carth. The man was a model Jedi despite the fact Carth didn't like him very much. "Debt's?"
"Nope," Dustil said flinging aside the stuff on the couch and plopping down. "Far as I can tell, he sends money home to dear old mom."
"So, a dead end."
"Looks like it. How are you feeling?" He asked as nerves began to skitter along his spine.
Carth smiled faintly, "Five times my age, but I'm fine. Have you found anything on Force Joining?"
You just spent hours in a Kolto tank and you're here to find out how to hasten your death, he thought angrily but put it aside along with the lie that came to his lips. "Not really. It's referenced as part of the legend around the Valley of the Jedi, but that's it." Dustil got up and rifled through the data pads on the desk until he found the one he wanted.
He even moves like me, Carth thought watching his son.
"Here," he said handing the pad to his father. "There's some drawings but according to the story I came across, Force Joining is the most ancient of the Force powers. This historian," he said waving at the pad "thinks it's the one power that binds the galaxy together. He goes so far as to suggest it's the power that created life."
Carth scanned through the text and found the drawings. They were wrong. The temple didn't sit in a verdant valley but on a craggy plateau whose sides dropped into a swirling mist. The water surrounding the temple was missing and, he moved to the next picture, the towers weren't tall enough and the doors not that elaborate.
~~ Pay attention. ~~
Startled, Carth looked up. Dustil stood before him utterly still, his face frozen in shock. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" Dustil didn't move. "You should probably sit down."
Dustil crossed his ankles where he stood and dropped to sit at his father's feet. Carth's mind flashed to a younger Dustil, sitting at his feet, his little legs crossed, his elbows propped on his knees, his chin resting on his tiny fists, waiting for his father to tell him a story. He let out a gusty sigh as he scrubbed his face with his hands, "It was . . . incredible," he said behind them.
"Tell me," Dustil asked anxiously. The little boy was back, only he had grown up, and Carth missed it. Yes, the years, but he had been so excited to have his son back; he ignored the fact that Dustil had grown into his own. The little boy is gone, MY little boy is gone, he again thought with sadness. The familiar comfort slowly glided through his body and he realized it wasn't heartbreaking to accept. In fact, pride at the man Dustil had become, filled his heart.
Carth's smile was gentle as he reached out and brushed Dustil's hair from his face. "I'm not sure anyone one can know," he told him. Dustil nodded. "I guess I'll start with the valley."
Dustil's attention never wavered as his father explained what he had experience during the Joining, not even when he got up and poured them both an ale. He listened as his father described the temple in detail, what it looked like, the white flame, the dark mist that crawled its way down the walls, the Hall of Beginnings, the Hall of Ending, and what happened when he touched Jaden's symbol. Dustil was dying to ask questions but he didn't want to interrupt as his father went on to talk about Jaden taking him to Naboo and Telos.
When Carth finished, he drained his glass and rose to get a refill. He was going to need the shot of courage to get through the next part. Dustil was sitting on the couch staring into space. Carth topped off both their glasses and set the bottle on the table before he returned to the chair. "There's more," he said as he looked at Dustil's desk where a picture of Morgana sat in a place of prominence. When he hadn't responded Carth added, "Your mother said to tell you she loves you, misses you and is proud of you."
Dustil's eyes snapped to his. "What?" he whispered.
Carth sipped his drink, "We need to talk, Dustil. Really talk."
For those that didn't believe in the fate or destiny the Force preordained, well, they were fools. An uncomplicated plan had become childishly simple with the arrival of the Ebon Hawk. Not only will the boy be delivered to the Exile, but Jaden as well. The knowledge of the Valley of the Jedi and his enemy in one fell swoop.
~~ Think of the reward to be bestowed on those that aid in the defeat of his enemy. ~~
Ah yes. Serving the Exile then one day taking the title of Ruler of the Sith Empire. The reward was close; so close and the taste of victory sweet.
~~ All is in readiness? ~~
Yes. The Council is divided, emotions are at their breaking point, the set-up is complete, and the messages ready to send.
~~ You have done well. ~~
Jaden left a sputtering Bastila in the medical center. She held her temper while the Jedi lambasted her about killing Carth, being a Sith and blah, blah, blah. It was the same argument over and over and Jaden was tired of hearing it. Bastila knew the truth and just flat out refused to believe it, so when shoving the overly-emotional and snotty woman out an airlock crossed her mind, Jaden knew it was time to leave. But not, she let a small smile slip through as she walked down the corridor, before Jaden showed Bastila what her future would be if she continued down this path. Hence, the sputtering.
~~ It was childish. ~~
~~ But not untrue, ~~ she responded with another smile threatening.
~~ It was the least likely of a possible future! ~~
~~ Sometimes even the smallest pebble, thrown in a pond, will create the largest ripples. ~~ She bit the inside of her lip when she felt the Masters hesitation.
~~ You mock our wisdom? ~~
Jaden laughed, ignoring the looks from the others as they passed. ~~ No Masters, merely pointing out that sometimes a small thing can have the largest impact. You taught me that. ~~
~~ Now you mock our teachings? ~~ They asked but there was no heat behind the question.
~~ Never, ~~ she thought with fondness. This was her life, the Masters her family. They had cared for her, taught her so much, put up with so much, she thought with an inward smile. Jaden hadn't realized how much she missed her full connection to them until she began to get it back.
~~ Of all our children you are the most… ~~
~~ Trying? ~~
~~ … Incorrigible. ~~
Jaden chuckled as she stepped on the lift that would take her to the officers' deck. ~~ But never dull! ~~
~~ Child . . . ~~ She felt their sigh.
Jaden knew she was being annoying so she told them, ~~ Her current path is a dangerous one. If showing Bastila a future where she left the order will turn her from the destructive steps she's taking then perhaps some good will come of it. ~~
~~ And the Mandalorian? ~~
Jaden grinned when she remembered the look on Bastila's face when she saw a life with Canderous. Horrified didn't do it justice. ~~ An embellishment, I'll admit. I was feeling peevish. ~~
~~ Child, you are stronger, but there is still danger. ~~
~~ I know, ~~ she thought quietly.
~~ Be careful. ~~
~~ I will. ~~
Jaden stepped off the turbo lift and wandered toward the observation deck where she found Atton sitting alone watching the stars pass by. She wasn't ready to go to Carth's quarters just yet, so she joined him on the small couch.
"No hyperspace?"
"They're bringing on supplies and crew."
Jaden took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. "I know I've hurt you."
Atton looked at her with mild surprise. "I'll get over it."
"The same way you got over her. By cracking wise when your heart was just cracking?"
Atton stiffened and was ready to move away when Jaden squeezed his hand. "You're a good man, one of the best I know. It hurts me to see you hide behind the sarcasm and snide remarks because you're afraid to face what she showed you is true."
"It's who I am."
"Part of it," she said tipping her head back to look at him. "Let go of the fear, Atton. Take the step that will make you what you are meant to be."
"And what is that?" he asked with a lazy smile.
"One of the galaxy's greatest Jedi," she said lowering her head and grinning, "with a smart mouth."
Atton moved his arm around her shoulders and they sat in silence. It isn't fear that stops me it's disillusionment, he thought letting his eyes close.
Fighting with the Republic against the Mandalorians had given his life a purpose when he was just a teenager on the road to self-destruction. He was a part of something that was more than just a matter of surviving day to day, this war would insure the survival of the Republic, and for the first time in a long time, he set aside his distrust and allowed himself to believe he was worth something. Revan had showed them that what they were doing would be for the greater good and Atton wanted to be a part of it. When Revan and Malak left, he went right along with them, blindly convinced that the Jedi were the reason the Republic was weak due to their inaction when the threat the Mandalorians posed was ignored. He grabbed every opportunity for training and found he excelled at assassinating the Jedi, ruthlessly ignoring the fact that he was nothing more than a murderer. He had joined the Republic Navy to get away from being a criminal, and now he was the worst sort, but the illusion Revan had created of a stronger Republic kept him going until he met the woman that would change his life.
She wasn't stunning in looks, but she was beautiful and touched something within him, something more than just his love for her. Perhaps it was out of that love that the Jedi told him of his connection to the Force, that's why he had always been so successful as an assassin. Once that connection was known however, he would be trained as a Dark Jedi. It didn't matter that the term "dark" came before the title of Jedi; it was what he would be. Atton would become the very thing he was murdering. He didn't want to believe her and in his fear and anger, he struck her down calling her a liar, but before she died, she showed him what the Force could be, what her vision of the Force was and he realized it had all been a lie. Everything Revan and Malak had said or done, was a lie. They had abandoned the teachings of using the Force for virtuous reasons and instead used its dark power for their own twisted objectives to gain what they really wanted: galactic domination by the Sith. Atton's last act as a Sith Assassin was to kill the woman who had shattered his illusions about life and more importantly himself.
His disillusionment led him to Nar Shaddaa and back to being sarcastic, untrusting and living a life in the gray haze of right and wrong. He played Pazaak, took jobs with the Exchange, and occasionally went legit. That's how he wound up on Peragus II. It started out as a legitimate mining position that went horribly wrong when he found himself mixed up with Coorta and his gang, and ultimately in a force cage where the Exile found him.
Atton was thankful for the rescue and began to rethink his position about the Force and Jedi as he watched Zared over the months, but then Kreia threatened to tell the truth about his past, and Atton was faced with making a decision. He had told no one about what he was in his previous life and was surprised to find that he accepted what he had done and was ready to face the consequences of his actions. The decision to tell the Exile was taken out of his hands on Nar Shaddaa when a Twi'lek told Zared of his past. When asked about it, Atton was truthful, ready to be struck down for his murdering ways, so it was a surprise when Atton found himself forgiven and Zared offered to train him in the ways of the Force.
Yet, once again, he found himself wondering whether he had made a mistake in allowing Zared to train him. Atton could feel himself slipping further and further into darkness and it terrified him. This was not what the Jedi had shown him all those years ago. Atton was tired of always fighting his life, he wanted peace and as he lay injured and sliding closer to death on the surface of Malachor V, he thought that perhaps this would be the only way to truly achieve that goal. That's why he refused to accompany Zared when he left and why he fought so hard to live when Jaden stood over him with her hands on her hips and a cocked a brow when he asked, "Are you an angel?"
"The last I checked, the Force didn't have angels."
"Too bad, cuz you certainly do look like one."
"Only you, Master Rand would hit on your savior as you lie at death's door," she said sarcastically.
"It's who I am."
"Part of it, but I don't believe that's all there is to Jaq Atton Rand."
Carth stared at the picture of Dustil and Morgana. He remembered taking it when they went to the beach before he shipped out, before his life had been shattered. He told Dustil about his encounter with Morgana, all of it, even her words about his feelings for Jaden. Dustil hadn't said anything, and judging by his shell-shocked look probably wouldn't for a while yet. Carth rose, refilled his glass, and wandered to the desk, picking up the picture. Even after I found him again, I continued to see the little boy wrapped in a young man's body, he thought.
Dustil glanced at his father standing by the desk and returned to his thoughts. Mom? Why had Jaden let his father see her and not him? He missed her too. When he was pulled from her arms on Telos, he had screamed for her, ignoring the words of the young couple that had grabbed him. 'It's too late for her', they said. 'They had to escape before it was too late', but she wasn't dead, at least not then, and he never had the chance to say good-bye. Dustil tried to tell them that she was alive but his temporary saviors didn't listen, and the Republic had been too late, his father had been too late and he had broken his promise he would always be there for Dustil and his mother. He let his head fall to his hands and took a shallow breath. His heart was breaking all over again, and his carefully crafted walls crumbling. "How did she look?"
Carth continued to study the picture and Morgana's brilliant blue eyes and laughing smile. "As beautiful as she always did," he answered quietly.
"I miss her."
Carth closed his eyes against the cracking in Dustil's voice. "So do I."
"Why would she do this?" he asked as the anger he had kept at bay began to sneak through. "Why would Jaden rip open old wounds, when we've gotten past it."
Carth set the picture down and turned to his son. "Because we haven't. It's still the one thing that stands between us, and I think your mother knew that," he said sitting down again.
"What do you mean?" Dustil asked, his skepticism abundant in his voice.
"Jaden was only fulfilling a promise to your mother. She's not to blame," he sighed. "I think your mom, in her own clever way, knows that you blame me for her death." Dustil's sharp indrawn breath confirmed what he had known all along, but didn't want to admit. He watched his son and recognized the look in his eyes as one of someone trying to find a way to deny it. "There's one question I never asked you."
Then don't, Dustil thought as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"In the time before the Sith landed and you were taken, why didn't you tell anyone who you were," he asked holding his breath.
Dustil jumped from the couch as if he'd been bitten and went to the window. He could see the shuttles traveling back and forth between the Sojourn and the freighter not far away. At this moment, he wanted desperately to be on one of those ships and not here having to answer a question, he avoided for years. He wasn't even a teenager when the Sith came and it had been months before he told anyone his last name. Even thinking about being an Onasi made him remember the promise his father had broken and he allowed it to fuel his anger, to be what he drew upon to pass his tests to prove he was worthy of being a Sith.
In the years that past, the anger is what sustained him and kept the feelings of abandonment under control. He couldn't feel the emptiness and fear from being discarded if he was angry, so he made it a part of who he was and he learned to live it so well, seeing his father on Korriban brought it all screaming back. His anger was genuine when he and his father fought in his quarters, but then his father went and did something totally unexpected; he found the proof that Master Uthar had killed his friend because he felt she was holding Dustil back. Since then, he battled between the anger over a broken promise and his father risking his life to save his son.
"Dustil?"
Maybe his mom was right when she told his father to let go of the past to allow himself to live. There had been a time when Dustil and his father were closer than "bark on a tree" as his mom had said on several occasions, and he had missed that since his return. Many times, he wanted to turn to his father for advice or to just hang out together and talk, but he always kept him at arm's length because he was afraid to believe in his dad again. Now, he was faced with losing his father forever.
"You broke your promise," he said quietly but what he added ended in a shout. "I hated you because you broke your promise!"
The standard excuse popped in Carth's mind and he let it die there. Dustil was being honest so it was time for him as well. It didn't matter that the fleet was late in arriving at Telos. He had always promised Dustil he would be there for him and his mother. He looked at the picture on the desk. I promised you that day as well. For years, I promised and I still couldn't keep it. "I know," he said letting his head fall to his hands. Carth pulled the ever-present comfort closer, letting it soothe his battered soul.
"Dad?"
Carth's head snapped up. Dustil hadn't called him 'Dad' since they had been reunited and he never realized how much he missed that until now.
"I was angry and scared . . ." Carth went to his son and pulled him close. When Dustil grabbed him tight, he felt another part of him uncoil.
"So was I Dusty, and I've been unfair to you these past few years. You grew up on me and I missed it," he said with a hard swallow, "so I've clung to the image of my little boy not wanting to see the man he's become," he added quietly as a lone tear slid down his cheek.
There was more to be said but neither of them moved. It was enough, for now, that they had broken down the final barrier to retrieving what had been lost.
It was hours later when Jaden felt Carth's weight next to her on the bed. He didn't wake her or pull her close; instead, he thwacked the pillow a couple times and settled his head. When she felt it was safe, she looked over her shoulder and found the wall of his back, effectively cutting him off from her. She laid her head back down and reached out to find the voice. It was less burdened and fatigued, but for the first time in years, a thread of hope echoed at its center.
