A/N: Hopefully this won't turn too sappy, but hey, it is a romance; please send in ideas if you like.
CHAPTER 2: Carth's POV
It was evening in galactic standard time, and we were gathered in the Ebon Hawk's rotunda. I opened a rusted compartment with a simple code Revan had told me, and inside I found a neat stash of the finest beverages. This included a bottle of Tarisian ale that shone with an amber color in the light.
"Hey, hey, hey...look what we have here!" Canderous said, gazing at the bottle. This caused everyone else's heads to turn towards me. Their eyes traveled quickly from my face to the labeled bottle in my arms. Bastila was the first to turn away, but surprisingly the old man Jolee kept his gaze on the ale.
"Quite a rare object you got there, kid. If I already didn't say that," he chuckled.
"We should get the recipe for that! We'll make lots of money, I bet," Mission gleefully added.
"Ten credits say that that'll be gone and we'll all be drunk before we bother," a voice came from the far end of the table. Canderous was smirking.
"Query: What is this 'drunk' you speak of, meatbag?" HK-47 chimed.
"After a few of those—" Canderous pointed towards the bottle of ale, "—I'm sure you'll get it, scrapmetal."
"Query: Do you wish for me to blast this meatbag who presently ridiculed me, master?"
"No one in our crew dies without my approval first," Revan mumbled from the corner.
"So...two days to Telos, six bottles of Tarisian ale. Let's get going," I joked, setting the glass bottle on the holoprojector that now served as a make-shift table. I turned and reached for ten mugs that Revan had stolen from Dreshdae's bar after decimating the entire academy. These also ended up on the table.
"Pass 'em down," Canderous encouraged. Mission passed every mug to someone else, but an extra one ended up on the table and she looked at Juhani and then Bastila and reached for it. No one made an objection.
"You aren't underage here, kid," I joked. She shot me a venomous glare and I knew then to stop. "I mean, young lady," I added as an afterthought, pouring myself a drink and passing the bottle to Jolee.
I was still sipping my third glass of ale. Canderous had almost enough to kill a Bantha; Mission had taken a sip and attempted not to spit it all over Bastila's robes, and to Bastila's dismay, the 'attempt not to' turned into a puddle on the floor.
Revan was asleep, slumped over the table with a sip still in his sixth mugfull; Jolee had drunk one generous mugfull and crept off to the medbay. Mission and Juhani had stumbled off to bed.
Zalbaar had come in once with a Wookiee's version of "good night", choosing not to participate in whatever activity we were doing.
The only ones left in the rotunda were myself, Bastila, Revan (though he was now using the table as his bed), and Canderous.
"All of the stuff that's happened in the last year is pretty crazy, huh?" I idly asked anyone who would listen.
"That's the way the Force works," Canderous commented. "Remember, 'I could witness Malak fall out of the sky and I wouldn't even blink an eyelash.'?"
"That would be highly unlikely," Bastila said, cutting into the joke's throat. "Considering that Malak—"
"—is dead," I completed.
"Go me," Revan mumbled, lifting his head up. A toothy grin appeared on his face for a moment, and he then fell back down onto the table.
"Wow, he's drunk," Bastila chuckled.
"I'm going to sleep," Canderous stated, getting up from his chair and taking the rest of his ale in one large sip. He set the glass and turned, leaving the room.
"Revan, you should go to bed, I don't want to find you here in the morning," Bastila said, getting up and turning the opposite way Canderous went, towards the women's crew quarters.
Revan sleepily lifted his head up, eyes half open and looked at me. "Hey," he said quickly, trying to get up. After a few attempts, he finally stood on shaky feet. "Bye."
He stumbled out of the room, and I was left to drink the remainder of the bottle, which wasn't much. I gulped it down and headed to bed.
I woke up the next morning feeling like I had been sleeping with a Bantha sitting on my head. I put my hand to my temple, rubbing my forehead. I looked around.
Canderous was in the bunk above me, Jolee was at my feet and Revan was at my head. We all seemed to occupy one spot in the quarters normally meant for ten.
Slowly sitting up, I got out of bed and jumped into my black pants and shirt. I didn't bother with my shoes, I didn't care anyway.
Bastila was sitting in the same seat she had been in last night, eating some mushy stuff that came from the synthesizer. She had on a pair of Jedi robes, and her hair was neat, as usual.
"Even though you were drunk last night you can still do your hair, huh?" I joked, alerting her to my presence, if she hadn't already sensed me.
"I was not drunk. I had one glass," she replied calmly.
"What's wrong?" I picked up on some disappointment there.
"Nothing," She answered quickly.
"Is it about...Revan?" I asked using the name she always called him.
"No. I...do not know what I will face when I reunite with my masters. What will they say?" she looked at me. Was she showing emotion? To me?
"The same way they act towards...well, that's different, I suppose." I didn't finish my sentence. "Don't worry about it."
"They may make me stay under their watch constantly...and they might send Revan off on a mission," she started.
"You don't want Revan to be separated from you?" I asked.
"The bond weakens with distance. I might not know if some horrible thing befalls him."
"You think he dragged Malak and that tinbucket through the unknown reaches of space without learning something about survival?"
"I...I do not wish to speak of this anymore." She got up, placing the dish into the cleaning compartment. She then sat on Juhani's bed, which was empty.
"Where's Juhani?" I looked around.
"She and Mission are most likely practicing their stealth," she said knowingly, looking towards a corner of the room. So, that's why she stopped the conversation.
"Ah, you caught us!" Mission said, her stealth field fading away just in time for Revan to walk in and sit in the chair near mine.
"Good morning," Bastila greeted Revan with a smile.
"Good afternoon, you mean?" he pointed at the chronometer above the doorway. It was about lunchtime Galactic Standard time. "Anyone hungry?"
No one in the room made any gesture except Mission, who sauntered over to the synthesizer and made a blueberry muffin.
"You really like muffins." Revan said blandly.
"You've only seen me when I get, like, muffins. I get...um, mashed vegetables in here too, and um...some fruit, too." Revan smirked, and Missions eyes darted around the room. "How long until Telos?"
"16 hours," Bastila responded. "Time enough to get over your headaches."