This is what the dutiful Jedi does. She contacts the Council and awaits further instruction.

Katrina forced herself to repeat it over and over, waiting for the familiar figures of the council to appear on the screen before her.

This was what she was supposed to do. She was not to keep her death grip on Carth's sickly, yellow, kolto-infused skin. She was not to lapse into panic or succumb to the adrenaline rush that made her want to grab her lightsaber, find whatever miserable creature had done this, and tear them in half.

Even now she fought to keep her attention on the Council, trying not to look at him.

His face, as she suspected, had been burned badly. It was blistering red and white, some black singes still near his hairline to denote just how bad it had been before the medics had started on him. His eyes were fused shut, and she tried to convince herself that she would see under the lids once again.

His body had been battered and bloody from absorbing whatever shock had been meant for her. Now, lying on the bed with kolto running into it, it took on that pale, yellowing color as if it were already decomposing. She didn't think about what might have happened to the very important organs inside it.

The scars didn't frighten her; she used them to make herself believe that this was Carth, her Carth, and those would be the same scars as the many others that traced his veteran soldier's body.

But he is alive, she reminded herself firmly. He is alive.

"Revan!" It was not Master Vandar's voice that greeted her, but rather an uncharacteristically-excited Bastila.

She gave the image her dirtiest look, but Bastila either did not remember how much she despised that name or did not care.

"These are good tidings," she continued, seeming to come back into that collected demeanor Katrina knew so well. "The Council had feared the worst when we received word about the destruction of your ship."

And if you feared the worst, why isn't a battalion out here searching for us? Why aren't you going after whomever did this with your sabers blazing? Fools-

"It's not destroyed," she stubbornly muttered, unable to think of a way to begin.

Bastila's eyebrow raised, and Katrina saw the way, even in a holographic projection, how she was trying to look behind her into the background, see Carth, assess the situation.

"We were attacked-"

"By who?"

Her hand twitched and she inhaled deeply. "I don't know who. We drifted and were picked up by scouts from Telos. The authorities here seem to think it was a thermal detonator." If those two Jedi-scared medics could be described as authorities, she thought wryly. No matter. 'Authorities' lended the notion that she had done more than she actually had, that she had the knowledge of the situation a Jedi should have.

"You do not agree with this, I sense." The figure of Master Vandar, probably having been perched behind Bastila observing the events, walked into the projection.

"No Master, I do not. There were characteristics of the attack that could not have been produced by a mere hand grenade, even if let go in space."

Vandar nodded. "The attack was not successful however."

She fought the urge to turn around.

I will not look at him, I will not look at him.

"No. They did not hit their intended target." She forced the words out and she knew they sounded tight and angry, but she would rather they simply suspect her rage than hear it unleashed from her lips.

Vandar paused before continuing, but whether he observed Carth in the background or not she didn't know.

"The Council was foolish to believe that your return to both the side of the light and the land of the living would be easy."

You know nothing. Admit your weakness. Fools-

"Much deliberation is needed, young Padawan. We must decide what is to be done, and soon. Have you no other details on the attack?"

I have one very large detail. But he's currently soaking in kolto because of me.

"Only that I desire that it doesn't happen again."

A brief smile crossed Vandar's face. "The Council will contact you as soon as a decision has been reached. In the meantime, Bastila will travel to Telos and assist you in whatever course of action we deem necessary."

Good. She'd rather it be Bastila than a Jedi she did not know, if for nothing else than she would not have to spend time with the stares of a Revan-awed follower.

"May the Force be with you."

And as much as she wanted to scream at Master Vandar, at Bastila, at all of them: Why aren't you doing something? Instead she replied with the spinelessness she had come to despise herself for:

"And with you, Master Vandar." The projection disappeared, and she rose from her chair, still not allowing herself to look at the sickbed behind her.

There was one more thing she had to do that didn't fall under the responsiblities of a Jedi.

And no matter how much she dreaded it, felt she was not capable of the task that, while no one asked her of it, she knew it was hers for the taking; this was also what she was supposed to do.

Katrina exited the room, finding one of the medics still waiting outside the door for her.

"How do I contact Dustil Onasi?"

She didn't like that gaze he was giving her. It made her feel angry, embarrassed, and confused as to what she was supposed to be angry and embarrassed about. It was accusatory, and she didn't like being accused.

But he hadn't said a word to her- all his angry words were directed at Carth.

And then all of Carth's angry words were directed at her, and the gaze of his son still bore down on her, condemning for something she, not Revan, had done.

Katrina awoke slowly, trying to grasp the meaning of this nightmare. Screams and extending her lightsaber against imaginary demons only occurred now when something sufficiently terrifying entered her dreams. Not much these days was enough to warrant that reaction.

But this had not been a nightmare. This was a memory of Korriban, a place that could sufficiently transform anything into a nightmare.

She felt Carth's quiet breathing against her brow, and did not move, hoping he hadn't noticed.

"I haven't had such a good night's sleep since the last time you were sleeping next to me," he murmured in her ear with a chuckle. She only mumbled in reply.

"You had a rough time of it," he added, obviously trying to get her to talk about it without actually having to ask her to talk about it. Of course- he always noticed and asked even when he wasn't sure.

"What did you dream about? It sounded pretty good."

He laughed. "Ah nothing, just a bunch of Twi'lek dancers."

She glared at him.

"You and that Twi'lek dancer from Taris, specifically," he added with a grin. "You were pretty suspiciously good at that as I recall."

Katrina tried not to think about the fact that the young dancer she had helped so long ago was long dead from the destruction of Taris.

"What did you dream about, beautiful?" he asked gently. Normally the use of that particular nickname could get her to tell him anything. This time she rolled over and said nothing.

"Carth?" He raised an eyebrow in response.

Some part of her wanted to change the subject, ask something else that could fool him and take him off the scent that she had something important to ask him.

Fool. Listen to yourself, afraid to ask him a simple question. What can he do to you? You are a Jedi. You are powerful. You are Lord Revan.

She almost shook her head to silence the voice, which was correct in its attempts to bolster her confidence but disturbing in its choice of reasons why.

"Did you ever think about having any children besides Dustil?" It flowed out so smoothly and so easily that she wondered why she had been afraid to ask in the first place.

Carth let out a short nervous laugh, rubbing his eyes and falling lazily onto his back.

"Um...I..." he stammered, and she couldn't help but smile at the way language always seemed to fail him when he was saying something important. "Geeze, that's a pretty loaded question, isn't it?"

She said nothing.

"I'm not really that young anymore, beautiful," he murmured with that same stuttered and nervous laugh. She suddenly noticed the crow's feet crawling from the edges of his eyes, the licks of gray beginning behind his ears.

But she narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed half-heartedly again, obviously aware of what a weak excuse it was.

"The war broke out before we..." Carth paused, and she noticed how lately he was unable to say her name, or even say "my wife". "Before we could even think about that, and afterwards, well, I guess I just assumed the opportunity would never present itself."

He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "I'm a little afraid to ask why."

She didn't really have an answer for him.

When she thought of children, she thought of Dustil, who wasn't her child but would soon be as close as she would get. All she thought of was Dustil, the hatred and anger and fear that had been rampant in him the last time she'd seen him. Among the few words she had ever said to him in his life had been her snide reply to his question of how she'd managed to get into the Sith Academy: "Through the front door."

She was afraid of him. She was afraid of Dustil Onasi, the son of the man she loved and barely a man yet himself. She was afraid of whatever relation she might have with him, what unsaid expectations were going to be laid on her this time. She was afraid and angry with herself for being afraid, and hated herself for being angry.

The hatred and anger and fear was still in her and she did not like how that was the only bond she could claim with him.

He's not afraid anymore.

She realized it instantly upon seeing the relaxed set of her Padawan's jaw, the careful way he was bent over the workbench, concentrated on his lightsaber.

She envied his lack of fear and his ability to not spend every waking moment on what might be waiting for him. Then again, he was descendant of a line that took comfort in action, that concentrated on the task at hand.

That, and he had little to fear. His father's love was constant.

At the same time she was proud, proud that he was not lodged in the past, that he would continue to reconcile it with what was in his future.

At least, she hoped so.

"Did it take you this long to master setting a crystal?" he asked with a hint of good-natured irritation in his voice.

"No. But it wasn't the first time I had done it either." She could not remember the very first time she had done anything- she still had no way of knowing whether it had been her first or her thousandth.

"Think I'll have time to get it looking presentable?"

She smiled.

"If it works, it's presentable enough." She stopped herself before adding 'for him'. Both knew why Dustil was determined to have his shiny new achievement ready by the time they reached Telos.

She too, hoped to have something presentable to Carth, something to justify having left him, having learned so much without him.

Whether Dustil worked or not remained to be seen.