A/N: Ok, I'm a bit discouraged, since I haven't gotten a review in forever-not that I should have expected to, the last chapter really, really sucked. Just so you guys know, I do have a lot written out, I just haven't typed it up yet, but it is all up for some change, and if you have suggestions, I would love to hear them. I KINDA have an idea where this is going now, but I'm not completely sure how I'm going to get there. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Oh, and I know that in space, there is no night and day and crap like that, so I'm going by a time set into the ships clock for like, shifts and such.
-Out of the Darkness-
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Chapter 3: Half Empty, or Half Full?
Cath
It was a great evening, despite HK-47'S constant badgering. How the hell Revan managed to plan the whole thing, I'll probably never know. It's a mystery to me how she managed to keep that much liquor hidden on the ship with a Mandalorian on board. But, then again, the Ebon Hawk is a smuggling ship, and Revan, is a woman with many mysteries.
I can't help but be happy that we can all still smile, with the end surely awaiting us soon. I am happy that we can all still joke, and listen to Canderous's war stories, and laugh at his crude comments, as if nothing was wrong. But something is wrong. No matter how hard we try, we can't hide it. You can see it in the crew's eyes-they are hoping, hoping with what dying hope they have left, that by an act of the force, that we can all some how stay like we are. I heard Mission talking to that walking carpet the other day that she would rather hide in the smuggling compartments, like the stowaway we had from Dantooine, than have to go back to her brother Griff. Not that I would blame her, Griff has about as much sense as a Gizka. The lousy excuse for a Twi'lek would probably wager the poor kid in a game of pazzak if it would mean he might have a chance to come out a little richer. Juhani struggles in meditations, and even that old coot Jolee has been stressing recently. I have seen Revan at the star of early shifts, I have seen those beautiful dark eyes, so red and puffy from crying-she claims it an allergy to the gizka-the runt that some how managed to escape from Mannan, but I'm no fool-and I'm certainly no stranger to tears.
I was afraid about stopping a Telos, I was afraid that Revan and the others might be angered about the delay. I was relieved when they found out, and they understood. They were happy to know that I would soon be reunited with my son. But in al honesty, I think that most of their joy comes from knowing that this stop will delay our arrival to Corisaunt. Even if we are only delaying the inevitable, the stop will keep us together longer, even if only for a little while.
The party goes on, and even Bastilla throws back a few drinks. That's a grad surprise; I never thought the prissy little Jedi princess would ever start to act like a human being. But I guess trials like we've been through really can change a person. Hell, look how they've changed me. Tomorrow the crew will no doubt be hit with a massive hang over. I chuckle. Best I stay out of their way when that time comes.
I look over at Revan. She is laughing, and smiling, and having a grand time. I smile-after all she's been through, its good to see her smile. God, she's so amazing, I can't keep my eyes off of her. Her long, dark hair, cascading down her neck, carelessly, yet beautiful, in a tousled elegance; It flows with every subtle move she makes. Her face, even in the worst of times, even when we were in Tatooine, and we were filthy, and her face was smudged with dirt and sand, even then, she shone, as she dose now. Those eyes, those eyes I love and hate, those deep, dark eyes, those pits of despair, and windows of joy, those eyes can pierce down into the depths of my very soul. When she looks at me, I feel exposed, and I know I can hide nothing from her, it was those eyes that interrogated me on Taris, those eyes that made me tell all, I could loose myself forever in those eyes. She makes me feel alive again, it was her who brought warmth to my darkness, and it was her who gave me a reason to live.
She stands there with Juhani, stumbling about, lumbering over the words of some ridiculous song, probably something she picked up on Taris, because Mission is sitting on a chair, matching them, verse for verse. Taris seems so long ago. It was then that our fates met.
I remember, falling down from the Endar Spire in that second-rate escape pod, clambering out and carrying her that night into that abandoned apartment. I remember how small she seemed, how fragile she felt in my arms. I was surprised that she wasn't badly injured, minus the hit to the head, as I myself had cracked a few ribs.
I remember, watching her as she slept, knocked out cold. She would toss and turn, almost convulse, and some times cry out in despair, out into the darkness, with screams that came from the shadows of her soul. It must have been some hell, whatever she saw behind those eyelids. She was racked with nightmares. I can recall sitting up with her, and wondering if she would pull out or not. Thank God she did.
I walk up to her, smiling, and raise my glass.
"Bottoms up," I said, raising the mug to my lips, draining its contents. Revan's face was flushed red, and she was giggling like a child trying to keep some secret. A few strands of hair had fallen carelessly in her face, and her dark eyes stared up at me, and all I could do was smile.
The party had began to die down a bit, a few people had already retreated to their quarters, and Canderous was leaned halfway in the corner, passed out. It's no wonder Revan hid the liquor in the smuggling compartment for so long. Its obvious that Mandalorians (and in fact, no one else on this whole damn ship) no anything about moderation.
Revan was sitting near the back of the room, in a rusty old chair, humming that song she was singing earlier, swaying her head back and forth to the beat, clumsily. I smile, and offer her my hand. She grins and takes it, pulling her self up, and I help her make her way back to her bunk. She stumbles, and nearly runs into the wall-on more than one occasion. She seems to notice something important, and heads over to the corner.
"Zallbar, really, you shudden drink like thad, it's…. it dassen't look right fara….fara chiefman…um…a.. chiefdan of the woooooooookies….really, you..you…you shoud act more professional…"
I stare at her in disbelief. "Revan, what in the hell are you doing?"
"I'm.. I'm a-talkin' to Zalbar," she replies as if I'm some kind of idiot.
"Revan, you're talking to a mop."
She glares at me like I've gone insane. "Carth, I think I know a Wookie when I see one. Gosh, you…why don't…why don't you just insult the guy…" she said as the ragged mop clattered to the floor. Honestly, sometimes I worry…
"Revan, I was going to talk to you about something, but I guess now its just going to have to wait until later." I sigh. This is ridiculous. Revan had a screwball look on her face. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at her.
"Why wait?" she sputtered, "we can talk about it now!" she said, looking just over my shoulder.
"Reven, no, not now, you're completely plastered!" I chuckle.
"Hey!" she whined, "I'm not as thin as you drunk I am!"
"R-I-G-H-T," I responded, "Listen, we'll just have to talk later."
I opened the door to, and helped her into the room. She smiled, and clambered into her bed, and almost instantly was out like a light. I looked at her face, it was nothing like it had been on Taris, now, she looked so peaceful, so relaxed. So utterly beautiful. She had finally fought the great battle, her task had been completed, at least until the Jedi council appointed her a new one. I sat by her watching her sleep.
I finally arose from my spot, and left the room, letting the door shut behind me. I headed back to the alcohol. I could use a drink about now, sometimes the clearest thoughts could be found in the bottom of a glass. I filled my glass to the brim, and started to empty it. If the rest of the crew was going to be hung-over, I might as well join them. I had sat there drinking for a moment, when I was startled.
"Statement: It is most strange that the organic meat bags seem to be dead, yet all their vitals seem to be fine..."
"That's because they are drunk, HK-47"
"Query: Would this mean that they have not all gone insane? That is to bad, meat bag, I was rather hoping to put them out of their misery. I've come up with so many ideas of how to go about this, meat bag, would you like to hear?"
"No, I can't say that I would, HK"
"Query: This 'drunk' that you speak of, might this occur when you meat bags consume too much of that fluid? I have noticed that it seems to affect your programming, and motor skills. Why would you choose to do this?"
"I haven't been"
"Statement: Your glass is half empty, meat bag"
I snigger. " I prefer to think of it as half full…"
"Statement: Whatever you meat bags would like to believe. I wish to power down for the evening. Since my master is inaccessible at the moment, I request permission from you."
"Sure, knock yourself out."
"Conclusion: thank you, I will power back up in a few hours."
I sighed, and watched the red droid disappear into the engine room. Once he was out of sight, I tipped my glass back, and winced as the contents burned all the way down my throat. In spite of the way we've all been acting happy, I suppose I have been thinking rather negatively. I get to see my son again soon, and who knows, those crotchety old Jedi and the republic just might appeal to us. We might be able to stay together after all.
But I can't think that way, I just can't convince myself. I can't delude myself into thinking some big line of cath crap. If the crew leaves, I don't know what I would do; it would be almost like loosing family. But if they take Revan away from me, a part of me will leave with her. I just can't loose her, not again.
I just can't do it-I just can't see the glass as half full.
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A/N: hey me again! Thank you for reading chapter 3! I think this is the longest chapter in the story so far- I just got into it. ^_^
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