Findings

by Clodilla

An in-game KOTOR fanfic centering around an LS female Revan, her good relations with a certain Republic pilot, and her dislike for Jedi Padawan Bastila. I write for myself, so updates are inevitable, but reviews are always appreciated! UPDATED!

2. Paths

"Plot a course for Dantooine…there's a Jedi enclave there where we can find refuge."

"You saw what the Sith fleet did to Taris," Carth's voice argued in reply. "The only safety we can find is with Republic forces!"

Ilithia, fresh from the noise and stress of the gun turret, slumped over the table in the center of the Ebon Hawk's common room and buried her head in her arms. The voices of the dying that she'd begun to hear in Davik's estate had only grown louder and more numerous as they escaped Taris, giving her enough of a headache. Listening to Round 234,896 of Carth vs. Bastila was not helping. Take us to Hoth for all I care…just please let this feeling stop.

"I guess we could all use a little rest," Carth sighed. "It isn't easy to witness the destruction of an entire planet. I know Mission must be taking it pretty hard."

She could hear the iciness of his own memories of Telos in his words. Damn the Sith, she thought, wrenching herself up to go look for the presumably distraught child. Damn Malak, damn Revan, double damn on Saul Karath, damn the whole damned lot of them, from the Dark Lord all the way to the Dark Lord's janitor!

Soft sobs from the starboard bunk room betrayed the Twi'lek's refuge. Zaalbar was cradling her as best he could, but Mission was in no mood to be comforted, eyes staring vacantly at the floor. Her lips silently formed words, the names of those she now imagined lying bleeding and broken beneath the ruins of the city above the one she had known. Ilithia dropped down onto the floor next to them. "We're safe in hyperspace now," she said quietly.
"O – okay," Mission stammered, not even trying to fight her tears. "What're we –"

"Don't you worry about that," Ilithia sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Not now. Later."

A slight tremor of lekku was the only sign that Mission had nodded. "They're all dead, aren't they?" she asked harshly, grief and anger coloring her voice.

"Probably," Ilithia said, mentally running through an even more profane tirade against all things Sith. "There are always some survivors…but not many."

"Gadon…Zaedra…even that slimy guy who was always trying to get me to dance for him…" Mission sniffed, rubbing the back of her hand over her face. "Nobody deserves to die like that." Zaalbar howled softly, a wordless moan of sympathy.

Ilithia gingerly laid a hand on Mission's back. This is a child in need of comfort – no matter how uncomfortable I am, she needs this. "No, no one does," she agreed calmly.

Mission nodded, sniffling as more tears collected in her eyes. "They were the only family I ever had."

"In the orphanage I grew up in," Ilithia said hesitantly, "We always used to tell each other that family is where you find it." Mission glanced up quizzically at her, and she answered the unspoken question with a slight, nervous nod. Yeah, kid…me too.

Mission blinked enough tears away to look up at Ilithia clearly, but held back her reply at the sight of the orange and brown figure of Carth approaching the bunk room. She caught his attention with her eyes, but he shook his head, placing a finger against his lips and coming to a rest just outside the doorway. Mission turned her attention back to Ilithia. "So, what does that mean?"

"I'm not really sure," Ilithia admitted with a sigh. "I used to think it meant that despite everything we had lost, we could still start over again, with each other."

Mission sniffed again, wiping her cheeks. "Does it work?"

A look of deep loneliness and sadness came over Ilithia's face. Carth had to look away – he'd seen that same expression too many times in his mirror, wallowing in regret over all the opportunities for friendship and love that he'd lost; or worse, passed by. "I don't know," he heard her whisper. "I've really never tried." Mission's face fell, and she turned her gaze back to the deck. "But you and Zaalbar found each other, even after he left Kashyyyk and you lost Griff, so…" Ilithia shrugged, her face relaxing pensively.

"Yea," Mission said slowly, "I guess. Maybe." Zaalbar let out a series of soft howls. "Of course we're family, Big Z," she said, brightening enough to give the Wookie a sad smile. "I dragged Carth and Ilithia into the sewers to get you back from those Gammoreans – if that doesn't make all four of us family, I don't know what does."

Family? Ilithia blinked. I don't have any family – no parents, a brother only by technicality, no friends – it's just me, and that's just fine. She knew the lifedebt with Zaalbar created a powerful bond between them, and through the Wookie to Mission as well, but it had never occurred to her to think of it in those terms. I haven't thought of anything or anyone in those terms in years…if ever, she reflected. Stable, safe, and solitary life.

Muffled coughing from the doorway drew her gaze up to a pair of warm brown eyes above a battered orange jacket. Ilithia immediately felt her cheeks burn – how long had he been there, listening? If tramping through the sewers doesn't do it, would raiding a Sith base, stealing a crime lord's ship, and nearly screwing each other senseless count? A red bloom spread beneath his stubble – good to know I'm not the only one thinking that.

"Uh," he started awkwardly, "It'll only take us six hours to get to Dantooine, so, uh…" He found his gaze dropping from Ilithia's eyes to her lips. Would it be so bad if we were…if we even could? "I just thought you should know," he finished hurriedly, forcing himself to look away.

"Why don't we go exploring, Big Z?" Mission said slowly, glancing from one very tense, blushing adult to the other. "Let's see what Davik's got stashed on this ship."

Ilithia began to rise, her muscles aching with every movement. "If you find any Alderaanian firewhiskey, it's mine." I should've gotten that massage.

"I call the Corellian ale," Carth added, stepping aside to let Zaalbar pass. "Leave the cheap stuff for the Mandalorian."

"Only if you're the one who tells him," Mission called out as they disappeared down the passageway back to the common room.

Carth and Ilithia stood silent, neither raising their gaze from the floor for a long moment.

She moved first. "Are you alright?"

"Bad memories," he said simply, in a tone discouraging any further questions.

I'm not in the mood, anyhow. "I can't imagine –" , my love, about to 170... She flinched, reaching a hand up to her forehead – please, stop. "Well, I couldn't until today."

He pushed aside the burning images of a different world's death. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not," she said shakily, turning to lean against the wall for support. "I can hear them," Ilithia whispered. Carth took a step towards her, his face ashen. "Their screams, their fear…I can feel them dying." Her hands began to tremble as her breath became heavier and more labored. "It's like this cold, black weight on me…in me..."

She felt Carth gently take hold of her, easing her back down to the deck. "Try not to think about it," he said, wrapping an arm around her for support. "We've survived – that's all that matters." He didn't sound like he believed it himself, but Ilithia appreciated the effort.

"Dantooine, then?" she asked, trying to imagine what it would look like. Pastoral, I'm sure, with lots of trees and rivers – just like the Prom- She shook her head. "Bastila convinced you?"

"She is technically my commanding officer, so there was no point in putting up much of a fight." He tightened his grip on Ilithia nervously. "She said she needed to consult with the Jedi Council about 'recent developments.'"

"Me." More Jedi. Lovely.

Carth nodded jerkily. "The question is, what do they want with you?"

"I'm not sure," Ilithia said. "Bastila said they don't usually take adults for training, but…" She sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "I'm just having a hard enough time wrapping my brain around everything that's happened in the last few days. The idea that – " She broke off again, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

He loosened his grasp on her, but moved his arms to take her into a closer embrace. "Whatever it is they throw at you, you'll handle it," he said gently.

"And to think a week ago the biggest thing in my life was finally winning a hand in my squad's Pazaak game," she mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder and settling herself deeper into his arms.

Same as always for me – kill Saul. "You've done good – I can't imagine how you could've done any better." He ran one hand down her arm, smiling at the series of soft murmurs that produced. "You were strong and smart, you kept your sense of humor, you were fearless…" And so beautiful… "And a little bit reckless," he added, brushing his lips lightly against her forehead. He waited for the snicker and the sly retort, but she stayed silent – in fact, she gave no sign that she'd even heard him. Her eyes were still closed, her muscles were slack, and her breathing was soft, slow and regular…Carth shook his head, chuckling. She is unbelievable.

"Very cute."

The sandpaper growl of Canderous' voice startled Carth out of his reverie. "What is it?" he mumbled, turning his face away to hide the blush.

"Your girlfriend left this in the gun turret," the Mandalorian said, thrusting Ilithia's vibroblade at Carth and grinning with amusement.

Girlfriend… Carth tried to will his body not to respond to that thought, but the warm, tingling sensations flooded his senses, gleefully disobedient. "She's not my girlfriend," he finally managed to mutter, snatching her sword from Canderous' grasp. The mercenary only grinned harder as he walked away. Carth laid the sword off to one side, then gently started to ease Ilithia back towards one of the bunks along the wall. She'd need her sleep, he thought, yanking a blanket over her – I'm sure she'll be cold. He gazed at her for a moment, then started to haul himself up to go back to the cockpit when a small moan and a movement to curl up with the flat, threadbare pillow stopped him. Somebody should stay to make sure she can sleep without being bothered – especially by Bastila, he reasoned, settling himself against the wall and closing his eyes. They'll find me when they need me.

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This planet is very…brown. Carth didn't know why he'd expected more greenery on Dantooine, but he could see nothing but hilly grasslands surrounding the Jedi Enclave. The sun was setting as they landed, which gave the brown of those hills shimmering highlights of red and gold. It was beautiful, but after the gloom and grime of Taris anything would've looked good.

He didn't hear the commotion until the landing thrusters powered down. Shouts from the common room echoed down the passageway – Bastila and Ilithia, with Mission occasionally chiming in. The faster we can give Bastila back to the Jedi, the better, Carth grumbled mentally, striding towards the angry trio. Zaalbar was stationed behind the young Twi'lek, and Canderous was leaning casually against a wall with an amused smile on his face.

"I don't see why this is so objectionable," Bastila huffed.

Ilithia readied her retort, her lips twisting into a snarl, but the movement of Carth's approach caught her eye. She paused, giving him a nod for a greeting, and took a deep, steadying breath. "It doesn't make any sense," she said through clenched teeth. "Why would the Jedi Council give a damn about me?"

"You are Force Sensitive – you cannot deny that any longer," Bastila replied, smugly calm. "Why this interests them, I cannot say, but I trust in their wisdom."

"So even you admit you don't know why they'd wanna see Ilithia, huh?" Mission said, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl.

Bastila sighed patronizingly. "I do not need to know why they wish to see her, merely that they do."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem," Ilithia snapped. "Maybe I am Force Sensitive, but I'm no Jedi." She stepped towards Bastila, eyes narrowing. "That they'd want to see a rank-and-file nobody like me is just a little…unusual."

I think I've rubbed off on her. "Suspicious of something, Ilithia?" he asked with a mocking grin.

She threw him a dirty look, which only made him grin harder. "Absolutely."

"Surely you are not going to refuse the Council's invitation," Bastila said with a frown. If the flattery of the request won't work, then perhaps this will… "Such favors are not often granted; would it not be rude to refuse?" Ilithia stood still, seemingly unmoved. "And after they have done us the generous favor of granting us safety and shelter from the Sith." She waited, watching the older woman's expression shift from anger to resignation.

"Fine," Ilithia said tersely. "Let's just go and get this over with so I can get back to sleep." She started re-fastening her fiber armor, knowing it was dirty, tattered, and splattered with several different species' blood; but it was only clothing she had left. "This won't take long, right?"

Bastila sniffed. "They are the Council," she said slowly, as if talking to a child. "Their wisdom cannot be forced to abide by anyone's preferred schedule – even their own. That is the way of the Force."

Ilithia took a deep breath, trying to count to ten so she wouldn't give into the urge to slap the holier-than-thou look off the Jedi's face. I'm going to have to ask Carth for an exception to my promise if I have to put up with this much longer. "As long as you're the one who apologizes when I start to snore," she shrugged.

"But…one stands in the presence of the Council," Bastila said, confused.

"Yeah. Like I said," Ilithia said brightly, finishing with her armor and turning her gaze to the empty loop on her belt where her sword should have been. "Does anyone remember where I left –"

A sheathed blade appeared in front of her. "I guess misplacing your weapons is something only Force users do," Carth smirked.

She snatched the blade away, trying to give him a menacing glare, but the sight of Bastila turning red in the background made her grin. "You just watch yourself, soldier," she muttered, ignoring a chuckle from Canderous as she slid the scabbard through the loop. "Let's go see some Jedi."

"Captain Onasi is not invited."

"Excuse me?" Ilithia's grin faded quickly as she wheeled around to face Bastila, leaving only the menacing glare.

Bastila heaved an impatient sigh. "No one who is neither a Jedi nor a candidate for admittance to the Order is permitted before the Council." Carth and Ilithia traded surprised and suspicious looks, their anger at Bastila temporarily forgotten. "There is an extremely uncomfortable wooden bench outside the Council chambers where Captain Onasi could wait," Bastila continued, ignoring Ilithia's question. "However, I do not think the Masters would take kindly to his presence."

Carth clenched his fists, readying himself for an argument, but Ilithia jumped in first. "I'm not looking to get you into any trouble with your Jedi Masters," she said evenly. No matter how much I would enjoy it. "We'll do things your way this time." She took a step towards the passageway leading to the ramp only to have her progress halted when Carth's hand reached out and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, pulling her towards the cockpit. Ilithia nodded, waving Bastila, away, as Carth led her into a side room filled with communications and tracking equipment. "Are you out of your mind to be going in there alone?" he hissed, his eyes dark with mistrust and fear.

"I don't want to, but unfortunately I appear to be out of options," she retorted. "They have given us sanctuary, and no matter how stupid their rules may sound I don't want to piss them off by breaking them!"

He stepped closer to her so he could whisper with the same level of anger in his voice. "Didn't you hear what Bastila said about candidates for –"

"Yes, I heard it," Ilithia snapped. "I don't know – " she stopped, shaking her head. "No, I do know what it means," she corrected herself, her voice taut and tense. "I don't know what to make of it, but that doesn't mean there's any reason to be paranoid."

"I'm not trying to be paranoid," Carth sighed. "I –"

"It just comes naturally, does it?"

Carth flinched as if slapped. "I thought we already had this conversation on Taris," he said softly, genuinely hurt.

"We did," Ilithia replied, softening her tone. "But if you remember, I promised I would be careful."

He frowned, confused. "You were."

"My promises don't have expiration dates," she said simply.

A few moments passed in silence while the meaning of her words hung between them. Does she really mean…never? Carth wondered, studying her face for any hint of pretense or posturing. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

She shrugged. "No one on the receiving end has ever stuck around long enough for me to find out." Her eyes fixed on his. Will you? "So is that enough to offset your paranoia, at least for now?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug of his own.

"And how many more planets do I have to help you escape from before you will know?" she snapped, scowling and glancing down at her arm.

To Carth's surprise, he still held her by the elbow he'd grasped to pull her aside. "I learned a long time ago that something that looks like a coincidence usually isn't – especially when the Jedi are involved," he cautioned her, trying to burn the words into her mind with his eyes. Releasing her elbow, he slid his hand down her forearm until his fingers curled around her hand. "Please – just bear that in mind."

"I will," Ilithia nodded, twining their fingers together and lightly dragging her thumb over the bare skin of his palm. She held his gaze a moment longer, then pulled away with a reluctant sigh and stepped back into the passageway.

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We really should inventory all the things we picked up on Taris, Carth thought, pausing his slow but steady pace long enough to contemplate the inside of the Ebon Hawk's medbay. Medpacs, weapons, even credits. They certainly didn't have enough food in the hold to feed a teenage Twi'lek, a Mandalorian, and a Wookiee for more than a few days, let alone himself and Ilithia – he'd checked the stores at least five times in the last few hours.

Sighing softly, he continued on, past the large, circular table in the center of the common room…it's nearly midnight…into the passageway and past the communications center on the right…I wonder what the Republic News Network is saying about Taris…and into the dark cockpit. What are they saying to her?

The white-orange crackle of electricity sparking across a damaged control panel caught his eye as he turned to make the circuit to the hyperdrive and back, again. It would probably only take a few days, if that, to repair the damage inflicted on the Ebon Hawk during the escape from Taris – he'd give the hull a thorough inspection in the morning. What do they want with her?

He veered off to the left, stopping at the top of the gangway and gazing out at the deserted docking bay. The others had long since shuffled off to sleep, but Carth had kept to wandering about the ship, determined to stay awake, believing it was important for him to be there when she came back. I don't know why I think that, but I do. He laughed softly to himself. I don't know why I do half of the things I do around her, but I end up doing them anyway.

His communicator beeped softly, just as it had every ten minutes for the last two hours. A message from the local Fleet garrison, who obviously knew he was coming to Dantooine in advance and whom he was in no mood to talk to. The Jedi probably told them…hoping to shove Bastila and I back on the front lines as soon as possible?

Or trying to separate you from their newest recruit?

Carth let out a long sigh, coming to a stop in front of the workbench sharing the swoop bike's hold. He wouldn't put anything past the Jedi, but that thought was too paranoid, even for him. The Jedi aversion to "emotional attachments" was well known, but he'd been under the impression that that was a battle left to each individual Jedi to fight for themselves. Which means they don't have to get rid of me now, because I'll be gotten rid of later. Leaning heavily against the table, he realized that if the Jedi didn't get their claws into Ilithia they'd both inevitably end up back with the Fleet, where he was a Captain and she a first-level enlistee; a casual chat in the hallways between two such disparate ranks risked violating fistfuls of regulations against fraternization. Either way, things between us can't end well, he concluded, a thought that made him angry enough to kick the workbench. Maybe I shouldn't even try to –

"What did that workbench ever do to you?"

He jumped backwards, tripping over his own feet and hitting the deck with a heavy clunk. Ilithia, leaning against the entryway from the ramp, doubled over and howled with laughter. "Elegant, Carth, truly elegant," she finally choked out as she walked over to help him up.

"You startled me," he protested, checking to make sure nothing was torn or missing.

"What can I say," she shrugged. "After all those hours with Bastila and the Jedi Masters I needed a laugh. You just happened to be a convenient target."

Carth groaned sympathetically. "That bad, huh?" Ilithia just shook her head. "Where is she, anyway?"

"She's staying in the Enclave," Ilithia replied, barely trying to conceal her relief, "Being a Jedi and all that."

"Speaking of which…" Carth said in a low, quiet voice. Ilithia glanced around, peering down passageways. "They're all asleep," he added.

Ilithia turned to look back at him. "Why aren't you?"

"Oh, I, uh, wasn't very tired," he lied, only to be faced with Ilithia's yeah, right expression. "And I thought, maybe, when you got back…you might want somebody to talk to," he finished, stammering, his earlier certainty of belief melting into a sinking realization that it was foolish of him to have presumed such a thing.

The sheepish look on his face drew out a soft smile upon hers. "Thank you," she said warmly, not caring that the relieved grin he gave her in return was raising the temperature in the room. "Let's go somewhere we won't have to worry about waking the others."

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The topside of the Ebon Hawk was surprisingly smooth, marred only by black scorch marks from Sith fighters. Night on Dantooine was cloudless and cool, with the occasional gentle breeze, tempting Ilithia to ask Carth if she could borrow his jacket. He'd probably do it, even knowing he'd be the one shivering.

"Well?" Carth prompted her, sitting quickly on a large, flat area near the hatchway leading back into the ship. "How did it go with the Council?"

"It wasn't the full Council," she began, dropping down next to him. "They're on Coruscant. We met with four of them." Carth nodded, waiting. "We didn't spend much time talking about the Endar Spire or Taris – I guess Bastila must've included that in the messages she sent while we were on our way here."

Carth nodded impatiently. "And?"

She sighed, staring at a burn mark near one of her feet. "They did ask me to join."

"And what did you say?" Carth asked quickly, his jaw clenching.

"I said I would sleep on it," she replied, starting to trace a finger along the outline of the burn mark. "This is a big thing they're asking, and I wanted a little time to think about the consequences of saying 'yes'."

Here it comes. "What worries you about becoming a Jedi?" And here I go.

She gave a small, rueful laugh. "Well, the risk of death or serious bodily harm is pretty high these days – but no worse than it would be if I went back to the Fleet," she added. "There I'd be cannon fodder just sitting around my unit's quarters, waiting for the Sith to attack and not being able to do much of anything when they do, just like on the Endar Spire. At least as a Jedi, any fighting chance I'd have would be my own," she reasoned, looking up from the surface of the ship to gaze pensively at the darkness beyond the lights of the Enclave.

"Anything else?" Carth ventured, his voice tight.

Ilithia held back a grin. He's really worried, isn't he? "They do seem a bit too…serious," she said, frowning slightly. "I know they've got very serious things on their minds, but still…after we left the Council I asked Bastila what she was going to do with the rest of the evening," she continued, leaning back until she rested on her elbows, her legs unfolded. "She said she would get some dinner in the dining hall, meditate in her room, and go to bed. No spacing out in front of the vidnet, no catching up with old friends – if she has any – nothing."

"I can't imagine you ever being that boring," Carth laughed, trying and failing to picture Bastila swooning over one of the hyped-up dating shows on the reality channel.

"Me neither," Ilithia replied with the same small laugh, letting her grin show. "So…I'm thinking of saying yes."

Carth paused, halfway towards stretching himself out next to her. "You are?"

"Oh come on," she smirked, "Who would turn down the chance to have a lightsaber?" Carth snorted with laughter, shaking his head. "And Force powers are nice, too, like being able to make things move just by thinking about it." Her smirk broadened into a teasing grin as she rolled onto one side to face him. "If you thought I was annoying on Taris…"

That would be like her – to become a Jedi just because it would be fun. "You weren't that bad," he demurred, moving until they were lying next to each other, face to face.

"Not that – " she spluttered disbelievingly. "You do remember what happens when I'm given a challenge, right?"

"I'm betting on it," he grinned, emboldened by lack of sleep rather than the second-class ale from the Hidden Bek base but no less determined to see her blushing and breathless. He leaned closer to her, reaching to touch her face as it colored –

– Clad only in her bodysuit, Ilithia collapsed to the floor of a torture chamber, unconscious, her muscles still convulsing in time with the now-deactivated pain field. A Sith officer approached her, lowering his hand to brush a lock of hair from her face –

The image vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving Carth back on the Ebon Hawk. He jerked his hand away from Ilithia, frowning at it while she gave him a quizzical look. "What?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing," he said quickly, his collar starting to feel tight. Even if I wanted to answer, I wouldn't know what to say. "I'm just, uh, still sore from the fight, and that – that hurt."

She sighed, turning away from him to lie flat on her back. "That's a pretty lame lie, Carth. It's never really 'nothing' with you." He was worried before, but this is something different.

"Ilithia…" The memory of visualizing her wounded and dying on the deck of a starship came back to him as he watched her movements. I don't want that – I don't want either of these things to become real. "This is isn't something you should do on a whim; this is serious." She closed her eyes, her lips pressed together into a slight frown. "We got by on Taris because we were just two unremarkable crewmembers," he continued, unbuttoning his jacket as he spoke. "As a Jedi…wherever you go the Sith are going to be after you. For you."

"I know," muttered darkly. "I said I wanted to find a more respectable way of getting killed – looks like I've hit the jackpot."

His hands shot out and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't say that!" he exclaimed fervently, worried both about her and the vehemence of his reaction. "Don't talk that way!"

"Carth…" She fought against the urge to push him away. "I promised I wouldn't be careless with my life or anyone else's. I'm going to stick to that." She laid a hand on his chest, feeling the soft pulse of his breathing through the thin fabric of his shirt.

He released one of her arms and covered her hand with his. "I know, I know…I'm just worried, that's all." That you're putting yourself in danger – that I'm going to be left behind – that you're going to vanish into the life of a Jedi and I'll never see the Ilithia I met on Taris again. He felt her nudge past the arm that was still holding her, tucking herself into an embrace. "I know this is your decision and I should trust your judgment, but this is all happening so fast…" I just met you – I don't want to lose you before I get the chance to…

To what? He didn't know if he dared to ask himself that question yet; the answers might be…inconvenient. She inconvenienced me enough on Taris, he thought, as the scent of her hair wafted into his consciousness. Always butting her nose into other people's business. Giving credits away like they grew on trees. All those damn questions. And –

– She turned her head, moving closer to him to shelter against a cool gust of wind – accidentally brushing his neck with her lips.

The memory of her kiss shot through him like lightening, stealing his breath. It was just drunken lust, he told himself, just a single night where we both got a little rowdy. There wasn't anything more to it, and there certainly won't be now. Deal with it.

"Carth?" she murmured, sending more waves of electricity skimming over his skin.

Inhale, exhale, inhale… "Yea?"

"I'm not going to give up who I am to be a Jedi," she said quietly. "I'm not going to become like Bastila."

He rubbed a thumb along the length of the hand still resting on his chest. She's so warm…so radiant…he could almost see white light around her, swirling protectively over them in the dark night. "You never could be," he whispered, pulling her close.

Damn their rules –I'm not giving this up. "For a long time I thought I knew how I wanted to live my life," she mused, snaking her other hand underneath Carth's jacket and tracing circles on his lower back. "Now…I'm starting to change my mind. Some things I thought I wanted no longer have any appeal for me, and other things that I didn't want turn out not to be so bad." She looked up at Carth, who had his eyes closed and wore a tight, tempted expression.

"Back on Taris," she continued, watching him, "Even in the middle of everything that was happening with Bastila, we still found the time to help some random people; really help them." Not sure how much good we did in the long run, considering they're all dead now, but I guess it's the thought that counts. "I liked that. I felt like I was really doing something worthwhile, something more than just showing up for my duty shift and drawing my paycheck. I think I can find that here, too." Carth let out a skeptical grunt. "What, you don't?"

Carth shook his head vigorously. "Whatever faith I had in the Jedi died when they refused to help the Republic after the Mandalorians attacked," he grumbled, resentment shining through his mistrust. "If there was ever a time for them to step up and help the ordinary people in this galaxy, that was it – and not only did they fail, but except for a few renegades with Revan and Malak the Jedi sat back and let hundreds of thousands of people die. And we all know how well that turned out," he muttered darkly.

"I can understand that," Ilithia said slowly. "But as someone who could have joined up to fight the Mandalorians, and didn't, I don't know that I'm in a position to judge."

"I was in the fight, and I am going to judge them," Carth snapped. "I don't trust them; not the Council, not the Jedi Masters here, not even Bastila. And I bet they're not offering to take you in out of the goodness of their hearts, either – they're up to something." Why you – why now?

She bit back a groan. About time his paranoia showed up. "They're losing Jedi to death and defection so fast if they don't start accepting Force sensitive adults for training there won't be any Jedi left to die or defect," she countered, tucking her head underneath his chin. "Maybe that doesn't qualify as 'the goodness of their hearts' but there's nothing suspicious about it, either."

"Maybe – but I still don't trust them," Carth replied curtly.

This time Ilithia let the groan out. "Well, then think of it this way: I'm not asking you to trust the Jedi. I'm asking you to trust me. Can you do that?" she asked, frustration rising in her voice.

"I don't know," he sighed, knowing it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. "I want to…" So much…more than anything I've wanted for a long time. "But I don't even know if I remember how to try."

"Tough," Ilithia snapped, yanking her hand from his and rolling away from him. "I've never had a time when I had any answers to try to remember, but I'm finding a way – forcing myself to try to do better, to be better." She scrambled to her feet. "If you want to wallow in the lonely little world you've built for yourself, that's your business. I'm getting out of mine."

"Ilithia, wait, I – " She dropped down the hatch back into the Ebon Hawk without a second glance. "Damn it!" he swore, banging a fist against the hull. Every time I think I can get close to her, I do something to drive her away.

Maybe that's what I really want…to get rid of her before she gets rid of me. It'd be easier that way.

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Bastila raised her blunt sparring sword to block Ilithia's blow, but as she braced herself for the impact of the other woman's blade she felt a bruising hit against her ribs. Opening her eyes, she saw Ilithia backing away, grinning – she'd switched directions in mid-swing, avoiding Bastila's defenses altogether."Excellent," Master Zhar called out from the far corner of the sparring room. A Twi'lek, he seemed to be in charge of the training programs on Dantooine, and had taken personal charge of Ilithia's training. "You sensed Bastila's intentions and changed your attack to exploit her weakness – but only when it was too late for her to sense your change and react to it."

"Lucky guess," Bastila muttered under her breath.

Ilithia's ears pricked up. "I thought you said there was no such thing as luck," she murmured in the Jedi's ear. A small squeal of surprise managed to escape Bastila's otherwise serene countenance. "Do you want to go again?"

"That's five in a row," Bastila grumbled, marching towards the dozens of sparring swords dangling from racks on the wall behind Master Zhar. "What am I going for – best out of eleven?"

"What, don't you think you can do it?" Ilithia teased.

Bastila slammed her sword into its slot so forcefully the other swords began to sway and rattle, an eerie wooden harmony filling the room. "No," she said, her jaw tight as she tried to calm herself," I do not." She turned to Master Zhar, who was regarding both ladies with a detached air. "It is late, Master, and if I am no longer needed I would like to retire to my rooms to meditate."

"Certainly," Zhar said with a slight bow. "Thank you for your help, Padawan Bastila." Bastila returned the bow, then hurried out of the room without a backwards glance at Ilithia, who was shaking her head with a combination of amusement and dismay. "What did you say to her this time?" Zhar enquired, tilting his head in Ilithia's direction.

She shrugged. "Nothing half as bad as what I said yesterday."

"Ah, yes," Zhar nodded, remembering. "The bit about preferring 'to have a Gamorrean in my bed than Bastila in my dreams' was rather…provocative."

"Yeah…" She couldn't keep a smile off her face as she recalled the image of Bastila turning as purple as a plum. The other Jedi Masters had only been slightly more subdued in their reactions; Master Vrook appeared angry enough to toss Ilithia out of the Council chambers, Master Vandar looked like he was about to lay an egg; Master Dorak was speechless for the next several minutes; and Master Zhar struggled keep himself from breaking out into peals of laughter. Which immediately endeared him to Ilithia. A Jedi with a sense of humor…Carth wouldn't believe it.

Her face twisted into a scowl. She'd been so upset by the dream that had awakened her yesterday morning that even though he was waiting for her by the Ebon Hawk's gangway she'd rushed past him without a word. In fairness, she'd had a pretty rough night – first getting in a tiff with Carth, then dreaming about Malak and Revan. But she'd felt the hurt and regret in his feelings, trying to reach out to her even as she stormed away; that, and the gentle memory of his touch, had kept her awake most of last night.

"Your thoughts are troubled, apprentice," Zhar's softly modulated voice said.

"You try having a dream about Malak and Revan and see how settled your thoughts are," she muttered, her voice tense and ragged.

Rather than being insulted or upset, Zhar favored her with a sad smile. "I do dream about them," he said quietly. "Revan was my apprentice, my Padawan, when she and Malak were young and studying at our facilities on Coruscant."

Ilithia froze halfway towards hanging up her sword. "Oh."

"Padawan Bastila has told me you are already bored with the cautionary tales Master Vrook has told you of Revan and Malak's misdeeds," Zhar continued pleasantly, "So I will not burden you today with more. Suffice it to say that she was brilliant, fearless, insatiably curious, impatient, and strong-willed; and that in the end, the secrecy, strictures, and slowness of the Order proved impossible for her to bear." He turned away from Ilithia, straightening the hanging swords.

A whisper of guilt tickled at the back of Ilithia's mind. "You feel…responsible? For her fall?"

Zhar paused, then sighed. "It is natural for a teacher to look upon a student's failure as partially his own," he said simply.

Too simple. "And how is her failure also yours?"

"We saw her anger in its infancy," Zhar said, a slight rumble of anger rising in his own voice. "We knew its cause, and we should have predicted its effect." He shook his head, his lekku trembling. "The other members of the Council do not share my views, but I know we could have done more for her, to prepare her to combat the darkness that would inevitably find her."

Ilithia frowned. "From what I've heard, I doubt you could have saved her," she mused, seating herself on nearby bench to begin unfastening the shin and forearm guards she wore for sparring.

Zhar sat down next to her, heaving a heavy sigh. "We could have given her a fighting chance to save herself. We failed," he said mournfully. "I have always thought I owed her an apology for not helping her as I should have." Ilithia's forehead creased as her frown deepened, confused. "Which is why," the Twi'lek continued, his tone and his emotions evening out, "I wish to know what it was that troubled your thoughts a moment ago."

"Uh…" Feeling her cheeks beginning to tingle with a blush, Ilithia bent closer to her shin guards, hoping Zhar could not see her face. Stall him! "W-why do you want to know?" she stammered, her embarrassment growing as she realized a Jedi Master would see through her feeble attempt to deflect his question.

"Even though you have only been training for two days now, it is clear that you will experience similar frustrations with the rules and rigidity of our Order as Revan did," Zhar said with a wry smile. "Especially if you do not learn to hold your tongue."

"Oh, I've no intention of doing that," Ilithia grinned, raising her head as she tossed the last shin guard aside. Zhar laughed, a clear, uncomplicated, joyful laugh. Maybe he wouldn't be too bothered by the idea… "Can I ask why you think I'm going to have…well, 'issues' with the Order?" she asked.

The laugh faded into an understanding smile. "Many who have come to the Force later in their lives simply cannot conform themselves to our more intrusive restrictions," Zhar said, "They have special difficulty controlling their feelings to achieve the serene, emotionless state we believe is ideal." Ilithia nodded in acknowledgment, guilty as charged. "Often the weakness is a life led full of emotions that cannot be easily forgotten," Zhar continued, more cautiously. "You have that; but also, I believe, you have a particular weakness that wears an orange flight jacket and is currently brooding in the cockpit of your ship."

That damned jacket again. "We had a fight, two nights ago," she sighed, "About my thinking I would join the Jedi – well, not really about that," she corrected herself, her color rising. "The real problem is he doesn't trust me, or the Jedi, or anyone for that matter, and he's just doesn't seem willing to even try to change that –"

"Do you want him to trust you?" Zhar asked softly.

Ilithia knew she was blushing so hard her ears were probably purple. "Yes." Zhar's knowing smile flustered her even more. "I – I don't know why," she spluttered, jumping up and walking a few steps away, "But I do."

"Trust is built and destroyed through action," Zhar mused thoughtfully, remaining seated. She cares for him, and he for her. This could be…interesting.

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "Or, more to the point, tell him."

Zhar stood. "You were not comfortable here in the Enclave last night, were you?"

Ilithia frowned at yet another sudden change of subject. "Actually, no," she admitted. "All these Jedi…it kind of made my skin crawl. Plus I was – I was thinking about Carth," she added, wondering what color could be darker than purple. "I didn't sleep at all."

"You will need peace of mind and spirit to focus on your studies," Zhar said. "So perhaps you should be where you are most comfortable," Zhar suggested blandly.

Her eyes widened. He's not mad? "Okay," she said meekly.

The Twi'lek took his apprentice by one arm and began walking her towards the exit to the hall. "But do not forget that you and Bastila share a special bond," Zhar said. "Do not be afraid to turn to her for help with this, or anything else that may trouble you."

"I preferred the Gamorrean because I could kick him out," Ilithia mumbled, unenthusiastic.

Zhar's clear laugh rang out a second time. "We broke many rules to bring you here, apprentice Ilithia. And I suspect over the course of your time as a Jedi, we will probably have to break a few more." She smiled at him gratefully, then passed through the doors and strode quickly down the hall, turning not left towards the dormitories but right, towards the hangar bay.

"You should not encourage her." Bastila's aristocratic voice cut through the shadows effortlessly. "She is reckless and disobedient enough without her entanglement with Captain Onasi. Master Vrook – "

"Does not know her," Zhar interrupted harshly, "Neither as she was nor as she is. She will need help from someone, help she did not have before. She will need a reason not to fall. It is a risk; but so is everything else about her." Bastila opened her mouth to protest but Zhar cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Her care and guidance may be your responsibility once you have departed from here, but while she is here it is mine." The young woman executed a halfhearted, perfunctory bow, then hurried away towards the dormitories. I do not care what the rest of the Council says – we must prepare a way for her to survive the evil she will soon face.

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Ilithia was halfway up the ramp leading to the docking bay when it occurred to her that she'd probably have to say something vaguely conciliatory to Carth. Sorry for getting mad when you started acting like a suspicious git; which you have a right to be. I'm trying to overcome four years' worth of anger and pain, and I've only known him for a little over a week – be realistic. Give him time, she reminded herself, passing through the doors to exit the Enclave. Give him a reason.

The Ebon Hawk was already closed up for the night, with the gangway sealed up into the hull and the running lights off. Mission, Zaalbar, and Canderous had thus far failed to find a cantina within fifty miles of the Enclave, so evenings ended early for them, and ended on the ship. She strode up to the ramp, raising her hand to knock, then lowered it, blushing foolishly. Like they'll hear that – if anyone's still awake to hear it, she thought chidingly, slinging her bulging pack off her shoulder and starting to dig among the dozens of Jedi datapads for her communicator.

Just as her fingers closed around the small device, the ramp sprang open with a crash, gears creaking as it descended towards the ground. Light from inside the ship streamed out, forcing Ilithia to drop her pack and shield her eyes.

"I thought you were staying with the Jedi," a familiar tenor voice called out.

He was standing near the top of the ramp, leaning against the wall with one arm cocked above his head and the other hanging down at his side. His jacket hung open, exposing the thin brown fabric of his bodysuit stretched tight over his chest. Ilithia's breath fled her lungs as a surge of warmth chased away the feel of the night air. Oh…

"Seeing as how you are one of them now," Carth added, trying to be angry but sounding more wounded than anything.

"Actually, I'm not yet," she said, finding her voice as she reached down to pick her pack up. "They won't even give me a lightsaber until I finish basic training."

Carth grunted. "And how long is that going to take?"

"They've got me on an accelerated training program, but still…" She shrugged, walking a few steps up the ramp and leaning against the wall opposite Carth. "I'd guess I could be done in a few months."

"A few months?!" he exclaimed, taking an angry step towards her. "Are you telling me I'm going to be stuck here on this sleeper of a planet for a few months while Saul –" He broke off, turning away.

While Saul is out there, alive and well, and doing to some other poor planet what he did to Taris and Telos. "What do you mean, 'stuck here'?"

"I got my orders from the Fleet," Carth sighed, gazing sullenly at the ground. "I'm to stay here on Dantooine until you're done with this basic training." Ilithia's lips formed a silent "oh." A frown creased his face. "You are still training, aren't you?"

Ilithia nodded quickly. "Oh, yes – I just don't want to stay there anymore." She started walking slowly up into the ship.

"Why not?" Carth asked, falling into step beside her.

"I just felt…uncomfortable," she said, rounding the corner into the central room dropping down into a nearby seat. "It's hard to explain."

Carth was not impressed. "Try."

She sighed, lifting up her pack and setting it on the table. "It was too quiet, too serious, too…Jedi," she started, frowning in thought. "All that striving to be serene and passionless has driven out all emotion, both out of themselves and out of that place. It feels like there's no life there – minds, yes, but no heart, no soul." She shook her head, slumping back in her seat.

"Didn't Bastila say they have real water showers in the Enclave?" he asked slowly.

She closed her eyes, smiling. "Spacious, multi-nozzled water showers in private bathrooms."

"And real beds instead of bunks?" Carth added, starting to sprout a teasing grin.

Ilithia sighed dramatically. "Huge, warm, comfy beds." Though my feet were still iceblocks.

Carth sank into a seat near Ilithia. "And three-course, square meals rather than the slop out of our synthesizer?"

"I'm not giving up the dining hall," she smirked, cracking one eye open. "And I'll talk with Master Zhar to see if I can't get you guys in." Carth laughed, shaking his head. "But after two days in the passionless purgatory, I've realized I'm going to need to be able to come back to the normal craziness on this bucket of bolts to keep me sane."

"Always happy to oblige," Carth said, grinning.

Instead of returning the grin, Ilithia frowned, offended. "You shouldn't consider me an obligation," she muttered.

"No – I meant – it's no trouble," Carth stammered, starting to blush. "I – I – " He gave up, dropping his heads into his hands and laughing. "I just can't seem to string two sentences together around you sometimes without saying something incredibly brainless." Or revealing.

Her momentary dismay faded away. "I know," she said gently, starting to smile. "It's one of your more endearing qualities." Carth's blush grew from a light pink into a full-fledged crimson. "Listen, Carth," she began, turning to face him more directly, "I want to say that I'm…I'm sorry about the other night. I overreacted and got mad when I should've known better."

Carth sat silently for a long moment, trying to process what he'd just heard. Sorry…should've known… "Huh?" he finally grunted, blinking.

Men. "You've a perfectly good right to hold back your trust, and I forgot that." Understanding dawned on Carth's face. "Just because I feel myself changing so quickly, and surprisingly easily –" the only thing that's difficult around you is you – "I shouldn't expect that of you."

"No, you should." Leave it to Ilithia to say something that sounds like both an apology and an insult at the same time. "After everything we went through on Taris, you do have a right to expect that I would be at least a little less suspicious of you – and I'm trying to be," he sighed, running one hand through his hair. "It's just been so long, and I'm…I'm just trying to get used to the idea," he finished, raising his eyes to hers in a silent petition for patience.

"The idea of what – trusting me?" she asked with a mildly puzzled smile.

And holding you, kissing you, wanting you, having you… "Of you," he replied simply. "I just need time."

"I understand," she said. "I know all I can ask for is a chance to prove I'm worth the risk, so…thank you."

They held each other's gaze for a few more moments before Carth hauled himself up out of his seat, groaning. "I should probably get some sleep," he said reluctantly. "I don't think I've slept a whole night through since we got here."

"Me neither," Ilithia sighed, reaching for her pack. "Nor am I likely to if I want to get this training over with as quickly as possible." Nearly a dozen datapads spilled out onto the table. She reached for the one nearest too her and up its content menu. "Theories of Force Transference," she read with distaste.

"I always hated homework, too," Carth reassured her, chuckling. "Though my last year at the Academy I did buckle down to make sure my grades were high enough to get me into flight school." He gave her an encouraging pat on one shoulder, and was about to head for his bunk when he stopped, a mischievous idea racing through his mind. "Tell you what," he said slowly, "I bet, if you really put your mind to it, you can finish your initial training in…six weeks."

Ilithia paused her reading to fix Carth with a skeptical look. "That's quite a challenge. What do I get if I win?" she purred, arching her eyebrows dangerously.

"Wouldn't you like to find out," Carth replied teasingly, giving her the lopsided, cheeky smile that always got under her skin.

She rose to his bait once again. "As a matter of fact, I would."

He turned back to her, raising one hand up towards her face. "Your chance," he whispered as his fingers brushed against her skin, tracing the outline of her jaw down to her chin. When his hand had completed its journey he backed away and walked towards the passageway, giving her one last, lingering glance before following the hall to his bunk, and the first naturally peaceful and dreamless sleep he'd had in years.

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The hissing snap of a lightsaber igniting filled the Ebon Hawk's central room as the blue blade sprang to life. "A Jedi Guardian," Ilithia said, flourishing her new weapon, "Focusing mainly on physical training and combat skills." She began moving fluidly through a series of fighting stances, grinning with every gasp the saber's lastest swoop produced from Mission. "They even taught me how to cover the distance from where I am to where my target is in a single jump, even if they're up to a hundred feet away."

"I should've known you'd find a way to get to a fight faster," Carth mumbled from his seat behind where Ilithia stood. It was quite an impressive move, but it took Canderous and him a minute or so to catch up with her and the kath hounds surrounding her – too much like what had happened to her in the Undercity for Carth's comfort.

She turned her head back far enough to give him a half-hearted dirty look. "It also hurts my target twice as much as a normal attack – I was killing kath hounds with a single leap."

"You should have seen it," Canderous said approvingly, striding in from the workroom. "She had a Mandalorian on his knees, gasping for breath in thirty seconds flat."

She doesn't need a lightsaber for that, Carth thought, trying once again to ignore a sudden flash of the memory of Ilithia's kiss. She'd met his challenge, completing her training and being awarded her lightsaber and the rank of Padawan earlier that morning, less than five weeks since arriving on Dantooine. It's official now…she's a Jedi, and I'm on the hook.

"So why are you guys back so soon, then?" Mission asked cheerfully. "I thought you had a grove to prune."

"Purify," Ilithia corrected her with a chuckle. "And that's done."

Mission blinked, then beamed. "Already? Wow!"

Ilithia shrugged, dropping into a nearby seat. "The 'taint' turned out to be another Jedi who thought she'd fallen to the dark side – she attacked me, but quit when she decided she couldn't win. She regretted what she'd done, so I talked her into coming back to the Enclave to see if she can be redeemed," she said, marveling internally at what she'd done. Being a Jedi was still a surreal enough concept – thinking that she'd won her first fight against someone with a lightsaber, and possibly turned her from the dark side back to the light was just…weird. But this is what I signed up for…this is my life now.

"Wow," Mission repeated, her eyes widening. "So you're done then – you're really a Jedi now?"

Carth jumped in before Ilithia could respond. "Yep," he said, trying to cover his anxiety with cheerfulness. "She's really a Jedi."

I keep my promise and finish ahead of the ridiculous schedule he set, and he's still treating me like I'm going to sprout horns. "Anyhow," she said, turning to Mission, "We're back because there are some Mandalorian raiders out there, making life even more difficult for the local farmers than it already is, and I wanted to upgrade our weapons and armor before heading back out to finish them off." Canderous stirred uncomfortably off on the side, but said nothing.

"Then," Ilithia continued, "When we took Juhani – the Jedi from the grove – back to the Council, they not only asked me to go investigate some ancient ruins out on the plains, but also to check out a local landowner's complaint that his son has been kidnapped." She got up out of her seat, stretching the muscles in her back as she went. "I'm going to go add those crystals we found in the cave to my lightsaber, and then we'll go, okay guys?"

Canderous gave her a curt, martial nod. "Sure," Carth barked, staring awkwardly at the deck. Ilithia gritted her teeth to keep herself from rolling her eyes all the way into the back of her head, then turned and headed for the workroom.

It's put up or shut up time, Onasi, Carth thought with a sigh, stretching in his seat to give his muscles a few minutes rest. He hadn't had much time to talk with Ilithia over the last few weeks, or even see her; his challenge had led her to push herself to study and practice so much she'd barely slept an hour or two each night, with only a few minutes in between each exercise for conversation. Even so, those few minutes were what kept him going through the hours of boredom they interrupted; a smile, a joke, a sarcastic observation, and all the other things that were so…Ilithia.

"You fought in the Mandalorian Wars, didn't you?"

Carth started at the sound of Canderous' voice. The Mandalorian hadn't talked much to anyone since their arrival on Dantooine. He'd seen him exchange a few words with Ilithia earlier that day, after they'd dealt with the first group of Mandalorian raiders, but other than that he couldn't recall the last time Canderous had started a conversation. "Yea," he barked, his eyes narrowing apprehensively.

Canderous nodded thoughtfully. "We may have faced each other in combat," he said evenly. "What battles were you in?"

"I try not to think about my past battles too much," Carth said quickly, looking away. "The horrors of war are something I'd rather not relive."

A sharp, scornful laugh came from the Mandalorian. "The 'horrors' of war?" Carth's face twisted. "I'm disappointed – I thought a warrior like you would understand," Canderous mused, regarding Carth with a mildly puzzled air.

"I'm not a warrior, I'm a solider – there's a difference," Carth snapped, coloring.

"I accept who and what I am," Canderous said simply, shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't have to justify it with words – victory in battle is my justification."

"Really?" Carth said harshly. "So what happens when you lose? You know, like you did against us."

The Mandalorian flushed almost imperceptibly. "You had us outnumbered five to one," he growled. "More ships, more troops, more supplies and the Jedi on your side – not that any but Revan were any help. And we still made the Republic tremble before we fell!" he finished, eyes flashing with memory.

Carth snorted derisively. "Nice speech; I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep. I don't want to talk about this anymore, Canderous. The war is over. You lost."

The Mandalorian's eyes narrowed angrily. "We –"

"Hey, Canderous?" Ilithia's head popped around the corner of the passageway leading to the workroom. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Yes," he growled, continuing to glare blaster bolts at Carth.

"I forgot to mention that the Council wanted Bastila to come along when we get to the ruins," she said. "I say we grab her now so we don't have to come back for her when we're ready. So would you mind going into the Enclave and picking her up?" Her tone was light and cheerful, oblivious to the anger simmering between the two men.

A few moments ticked by before Canderous broke off the staring contest with Carth, turning towards Ilithia. "Fine," he said, curt but polite. "We'll wait for you out in the courtyard."

"Thanks," she said as he moved past her, heading for the ramp. She waited silently until she heard the metallic thump of his boots on the deck vanish, then glanced over at Carth. "About time you two had it out," she chuckled.

"Why, so I could graduate from merely being wary of Canderous to actively disliking him?" Carth muttered.

Ilithia shook her head, letting a single, soft laugh escape. "No, so the two of you could get that discussion about the war out of your way and get on with being civil to each other."

"Civil!" Carth spat, scrambling out of his seat and advancing towards Ilithia. "To a Mandalorian – never! I lost way too many friends in that war to ever buddy up with one of those heartless bastards!"

"Hey, relax," she said quickly, backing up a few steps. "I don't expect you to buddy around with him – just try not to be rude. You can try, can't you?" she asked, her tone suddenly growing frostier with every word.

This isn't about Canderous anymore. "Yes," he replied, sighing exasperatedly. She nodded curtly in response, then turned and headed back into the workroom. He watched her take up one of the two halves of her lightsaber into her hands, adjusting a crystal sitting inside. Go in there after her…go on... "Why is he still here, anyway?" he asked, taking a few steps towards her.

"I'm not sure – he hasn't said," she said, bending down in concentration. "But I know enough about Mandalorians to know they don't waste their breath on you unless they think you've proved worthy of their time and attention, usually in combat."

"Well, yea – that's why he approached you on Taris," Carth said, coming closer.

He saw her smile and give a small nod. "And why he's starting to talk to you now. It's a sign of respect for the way you fought this morning."

"Oh." That…will require more thought than I'm willing to put into it right now. He walked up behind Ilithia until he stood close enough to see each individual hair on the back of her neck. It's go time. "What're you doing there, beautiful?"

She tried to hide her blush. "Adding a crystal with stunning properties," she replied, tightening a screw.

He waited until she set the re-assembled saber on the workbench, then lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. "Listen," he said, smiling as Ilithia started in surprise at his touch, "I just want to say that everything you've done over the last few weeks, and the things you've done just this morning…well, you've been pretty damn impressive."

Ilithia tried to run through one of the calming exercises Master Zhar had taught her as part of her training in meditation and mental discipline. Concentrate on your breathing… "Th – thanks."

"You did what you said you were going to do," Carth continued, sliding his hands off her shoulders and slowly down her arms. "You even did better than you said you would." He took half a step closer to her.

"As soon as we've finished things today I'm going to sleep for a week," she said, feeling a warm pulse of his breath on her neck. So much for concentration.

Carth's hands left her arms and circled around her waist, turning her around to face him. "You did good," he said, grinning. "Who knows – you may just make a proper Jedi yet."

She reached up and brushed a few stray locks of hair away from his forehead, letting her fingers skim along his skin as they went. I hope not. "Would you really want me to be?"

A shiver ran through him, his skin tingling long after her touch had moved on. "Not really," he whispered. I don't care how big of a risk this is, he thought, bending his head toward hers. She's worth it. His eyes locked on her lips –

"I see I'm interrupting."

Carth jumped back at the sound of Bastila's prudish voice. Ilithia frowned, but did not appear surprised. "I thought I asked you to wait with Canderous in the courtyard," she hissed.

"I sensed a disturbance in the Force," Bastila sniffed. "I thought it best to intervene to prevent the disturbance from becoming a mistake."

Ilithia rolled her eyes, clenching her hands into fists. "Thank you for your concern, Bastila," she said slowly, trying to purge a little more anger from her mind with each word. "Please go wait in the courtyard. We'll be along shortly." She turned back to the workbench to retrieve her lightsaber.

You are a Jedi now – you must not give in to your emotions, no matter how –

"If you have anything to say then you say it out loud," Ilithia snarled, whirling back around to glare at Bastila with an icy rage. "I don't care if you pull this 'bond' crap when it's just the two of us, but don't do it around them."

The two women stared at each other for a long moment, Ilithia almost trembling with anger, Bastila steadfast in her displeasure. Finally, the younger Jedi blinked. "We'll be waiting," she snapped, turning quickly on her heel and striding back off the ship.

"Bond?" Carth asked, frowning at Bastila's back.

"The Masters said Bastila and I share some 'bond'," she sighed disbelievingly, reaching back to grasp her lightsaber. "That's probably how she sensed –" that we were this close – "Whatever it was she sensed. They said we're especially sensitive to each other, though of course they can't tell us anything about how it happened or what it means."

"Of course not," he grunted, turning back to her. "Which probably means they do know and they just don't want to tell you."

Ilithia let out a small, short laugh. "Paranoid, much?"

Carth grinned, spreading his arms wide. "Just a bit." Ilithia laughed, louder and longer, clipping her lightsaber to her belt. "About the Jedi," he continued, "But not about you."

She froze, fixing him with a curiously cautious gaze. That was…abrupt. "I'm a Jedi too, Carth." Let's make him work for this.

"But you're not one of those Jedi," he amended, flushing. "You're…you're you." Ilithia leaned back against the workbench, an amused smile twitching at her lips. "You're not even wearing Jedi robes," he added lamely. Smooth, Onasi, real smooth.

"They feel too thin," she shrugged, her smile growing into a grin. "I can't move around in this armor as much as I'd like, so I might ditch it eventually if it gets in the way of using all my Force powers, but for now I'll stick with what I'm familiar with. Besides," she continued, her grin spreading to inject a playful gleam in her eyes, "How else would you pick me out of a crowd of Jedi?"

"I usually look for your hair," he mumbled sheepishly. There weren't many redheads in the galaxy – more on Corellia than anywhere else, but still just a handful. He was about to murmur something conciliatory when he noticed Ilithia's face had turned as red as her hair. "I meant what I said, about not being worried about you," he said, seizing the opportunity her silence gave him. "I'm not completely there – not even close – but I want you to know that things are changing."

Ilithia nodded understandingly. "No more holes burned into the back of my armor by your eyes, then?"

"Well, maybe," he replied, giving her his suggestively playful grin. "But for different reasons." Such as remembering what you looked like when your armor was on the floor.

"Thanks for the warning," Ilithia chuckled, stepping away from the workbench. "We'd probably better get going," she sighed unenthusiastically. Carth nodded, tightening his holster belt. "Finish off the Mandalorians, find the missing kid, then see what's so special about these ruins."

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"You're still limping."

Ilithia scowled, but didn't stop to look back at Carth. "I'm fine."

"Are you out of medpacs?" he asked, moving his pack off his shoulder so he could reach inside. "That was a pretty hard kick."

"I can use the Force to heal myself now, remember – not that I need to, because I'm fine," she said flatly. Actually, my foot is killing me, and I'm too exhausted to heal it right now; but I'll be damned if I'll waste a medpac on my stupidity and there's no way in hell I'm asking Bastila to heal it. She had kicked the first of the two ancient computers they found inside the ruins pretty hard, fueled by frustration at not being able to use it, combined with the adrenaline and stress from battling a flame-throwing droid to get to it in the first place. All that produced was a sharp, stabbing pain in her foot that still throbbed even as they came into sight of the Jedi Enclave. I'll never live this down if it's broken.

That computer and its counterpart had eventually given way, unlocking the door to the very furthest chamber. Seeing stars from the fiery pain coursing through her nerves, Ilithia hadn't recognized the antechamber as the room from the vision she and Bastila had shared just after arriving on Dantooine until the younger Jedi came to a dead halt, sickly pale. "This is the room we saw in our dream," Bastila had whispered fearfully. "Revan and Malak began their journey to the dark side in this place."

"Well, come on then," Ilithia had growled through clenched teeth. A strange, disconcerting feeling started creeping up her spine. "Let's go find out what this terrible thing is." She strode quickly up to the next set of doors, pausing only a moment to let them slide out of her way.

A three-pronged, obelisk-like structure different from anything Ilithia had ever seen before dominated the room. The creeping sensation that had begun in the antechamber spread, masking the pain. When she had been almost close enough to reach out and touch one of the columns, a mechanical whirring began, and the three columns slowly folded back. Three smaller, triangular shapes popped up in the base, generating a glowing green light. A sphere rose from the center of those shapes, unsupported and moving of its own will, giving off a single burst of light. Ilithia shielded her eyes and looked away until the brightness faded, then gazed in wonderment at the galactic map shimmering in mid-air around the sphere.

It was strangely beautiful, she remembered, as they stepped onto the paved floor of the courtyard. She'd stood, mesmerized, until Bastila has started talking about Revan and Malak, adding a feeling of morbidity to Ilithia's already unsettled emotions. Get the coordinates, get out of here, get off my foot, she'd thought, panicking. She groped frantically for her datapad, punching the information in with shaking fingers as Bastila prattled on obliviously about the planets identifi –

We must go see the Masters immediately.

Ilithia jerked to a stop, her mind whipsawing back into the present moment at the sound of Bastila's voice in her mind. "What did I tell you about doing that around the others?"

The younger Jedi flushed angrily as Carth and Canderous exchanged nervous glances. "They must be informed of Nemo's death, and the sooner they know what we have found the quicker they can decide what course of action to take." You are a Jedi now, she sent to Ilithia. We are different from the others. They do not need to know our every intention.

"Keeping a secret is just the flip side of telling a lie," Ilithia snapped. "No matter how special you think we are, that is not something I am going to do." She turned away from Bastila, locking eyes with Carth. "Bastila wants to immediately go and tell the Masters what we've found, for the reasons she just stated – and I agree." The younger woman frowned, confused, but Ilithia either didn't notice or didn't care. "I don't know how long this might take, so you two should probably go back to the ship, and I'll catch up with you later."

"Fine by me," Canderous grunted, slinging his blaster over his back. "Just remember to ask those old fossils when they're going to let the rest of us leave."

Ilithia nodded. "Sure thing." The Mandalorian threw a contemptuous glance at Bastila and an only slightly more respectful one at Carth, then strode away.

Carth had Ilithia by the elbow before she could even turn to ask him his plans. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked quietly.

"Of course – Bastila, go on ahead," she said. "I'll be there in a minute." Bastila's frown darkened, but she pivoted about and passed through the doors into the Enclave without a word.

He pulled Ilithia off to one side, bending down to speak softly into her ear. "Does anything about this strike you as a little…off?"

She frowned. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little weirded out to have walked in the same place as Revan and Malak – not to mention how much stranger having dreamed about that place now seems," she added. Carth's expression changed to match hers – I never told him about the dream. "Oh – I'll tell you later – I thought it was nothing, but…now, I don't know." She sighed and began moving slowly towards the doors. "I thought it was just evidence of this bond Bastila and I are supposed to have."

"Do you believe in this 'bond'?" Carth asked, moving alongside her.

Ilithia shrugged as the doors slid open. "Maybe. It – it does feel different than how I relate to other Jedi, except for Master Zhar, who always seems to know what everyone is thinking," she said, coloring with the embarrassment of admitting any such connection to the little brat. "Anyhow, um, I guess I'll see you back at the ship."

Carth shook his head, catching her arm before she could walk away. "Somebody has to stick around to help you limp back to the ship on that broken foot of yours."

"Oh," she said, flushing a deeper shade of red. "You noticed?"

I always notice the way you move. "Yeah – do you want to take a second to try to heal it before we go?" he asked, smiling gently.

A moment's concentration and it was done. "I'll need to work on it a little more later, but I'll be able to stand," she said. "Thanks."

"I won't tell a soul," he replied, shifting his grip on her arm until he held it gently, like an escort. "Shall we?" Blushing, Ilithia nodded, and they began to slowly make heir way towards the Council chamber as Carth used his movement to draw her closer to him. "You be careful in there, you hear?"

"Yes, sir," she chuckled, grinning. "And I'll try to speed them up as best I can."

The doors to the chamber came into sight, standing open, the Masters waiting inside with Bastila, who was tapping one foot impatiently. "I'll be waiting," Carth said, glancing warily at the rough wooden bench opposite the doors.

Seized by a sudden impulse unlike any she'd felt before, Ilithia leaned over and planted a swift kiss on Carth's cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes glittering, before backing away into the chambers and vanishing when the doors swished shut between them.

Beautiful, Carth thought, collapsing onto the bench. I shouldn't have been worried about those old men messing with you…if they ever get a full dose of you they won't know what hit them. He settled himself against the wall, finally feeling the stress and fatigue of having spent all day blasting kath hounds and droids. I'll just close my eyes for a few seconds, just to rest…

He opened his eyes to the sight of soft waves of auburn hair spilling out over his pillow. They had fallen asleep as they lay when their lovemaking was done – naked, embracing, everything still joined and intertwined. She stirred, and the strength and truth of the love in her eyes combined with the sensation of her movements to leave him breathless. "Hey handsome," she whispered, combing a few stray locks of hair away from his eyes.

"Mmmm, beautiful," he purred, tightening his hold on her body and kissing her forehead. "Is it morning yet?"

"Technically yes," she replied. "But the sun won't rise for several hours."

He grinned, letting his eyes roam over her form before returning to meet her gaze. "More time for us," he growled happily. She settled herself close against him, sighing her approval. "Do you know if all the others are back from the party yet?" We'll really have to try to keep it down if Mission's on board.

She laughed – does he never stop worrying about anything? "They're all here, sound asleep – in spite of Canderous getting into a drinking contest with an entire squad of assault troopers. Zaalbar had to scare them away when they tried to pick a fight after losing," she said, sniggering.

"Just exactly how do you know that?" he teased – they hadn't left the bedroom since they'd entered it the night before. "Exhausted me and then snuck out, or some Jedi trick I haven't heard of yet?"

"I did use to Force," she nodded solemnly. "To turn on the intercom in receive only mode."

It was his turn to laugh – is there no end to her curiosity? "Remind me never to try to keep a secret from you."

She reached a hand up to caress his face. "I don't think I'll ever need to," she said simply. "You remember how mad I was at Bastila when the truth came out."

"I do," he said softly, a shiver running through his body. There had been so much pain and anger in her eyes, for a moment he'd thought…"You won't ever have a reason to be that angry with me." A kiss sealed the promise. "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered in reply, brushing her lips against his cheek before resuming their kiss.

His muscles protested, already aching from two rounds of vigorous activity after four years of dormancy, but Carth ignored their cries. Get used to it, he thought, as she moaned and began to move with him. For as long as we both live, neither one of us is letting go…

…beep…beep…beep…

What the…ah, blast it! Carth jerked awake, fumbling for his insistent communicator. He was flushed, breathing heavily, and – he quickly snatched up his pack and dropped it into his lap, blushing even more furiously.

The red light on the communicator was blinking – a Priority One message. Hell… "This is Captain Onasi."

"Carth, at last!" Admiral Dodonna's voice cried. "I was beginning to the think the Jedi had jammers on Dantooine."

How long was I asleep? "No, but communications are a bit unreliable all the way out here, Admiral." He cleared his throat – it was true, even if it wasn't the reason for this delay. "At any rate, what's going on?"

"I have some new orders for you, Carth," the Admiral replied, her tone suddenly somber and formal. "And I don't think you'll like them."

A chill settled in his blood. A few weeks ago all he wanted was another ship, another shot at Saul. But now…Ilithia…don't think about the dream! "Go ahead," he said quietly.

"The Jedi Council has…requested," she began, in a tone that told him they had attempted to compel, "That you be assigned to remain with Padawans Bastila and Ilithia as they search for these Star Maps." She sniffed in displeasure.

"Oh." The Council hadn't even finished giving his companions their mission yet – this is too fast, even for the Jedi.

Dodonna sighed. "I know you'd rather be back out on the front lines, Carth, but –"

"It's alright, Admiral," Carth interjected. "If these are my orders, I'll be happy to carry them out."

There was a moment's silence on the other end. "They don't have to be your orders, Carth…say the word and the captain's chair of the Endor Star is yours."

Carth paused, frowning at the communicator. Admiral Dodonna usually made a decision and then told you what it was – he couldn't ever remember being given a chance to get out of an assignment. "Admiral," he ventured quietly, "What did the Jedi tell you about this mission?"

"They, uh –" He could hear her embarrassment at being caught out – "They said your skills as a pilot would doubtless prove useful," she finished, composure regained.

"And?"

The Admiral paused for a long moment. "Master Zhar said that Padawan Ilithia has come to rely upon your aid and friendship, and that depriving her of such support as she embarks upon this perilous journey would be dangerous."

"And?"

"And nothing," Dodonna snapped. "What the Jedi or your shipmates choose to tell you is one thing, but I have nothing further to day. Will you accept the assignment or not?"

There is something else, some danger the Council doesn't want to reveal…maybe to Dodonna, maybe even Bastila, but not to me. And certainly not to Ilithia. He sighed, throwing a nasty glare at the doors to the Council's chamber, wondering how a common soldier could even pretend to protect a Jedi.

I love you…

"I'll take it, Admiral." What I saw is something that can happen, a future we could have; but only if I'm there to keep her safe.

"Are you sure?" The Admiral's disbelief was palpable. "I know how important it's been to you to be on the front lines."

To be chasing after Saul. "I'm sure, Admiral." It's just postponed, not abandoned. After four years, a few weeks wouldn't change the inevitable. "When do we leave?"

"You'll have to ask Padawan Ilithia – she's nominally in command of this mission," Dodonna said.

Well, she can't possibly do any worse than Bastila. "Alright then, Admiral," Carth said, standing and stretching. "I'll see you on the flip side."

"Carth – " Admiral Dodonna started to say something, but stopped, as if trying to figure out what she could say without betraying whatever secret she knew. "Stick to your usual habits," she finally said. "And be careful."

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"We'll head for Kashyyyk first," Ilithia said, pointing at the planet's location on the Ebon Hawk's cockpit navigation display. "It's Czerka-controlled, like Tatooine, so I don't expect too many Sith to be there."

Carth nodded. "The easier a start we get, the better. I suppose you picked Kashyyyk first because we've got a local on board?"

"Yea." She leaned back against an instrument panel, frowining. "He still won't even tell Mission why he left, though, which has me a bit worried."

He tried to grin confidently. "It probably means trouble, but I'm sure it's nothing three Jedi, two blaster boys and a sneaky Twi'lek couldn't handle." Juhani, the Jedi they'd encountered in the Grove, had requested and been granted permission to join the hunt for the Star Maps. She'd brought her things on board that morning, but hadn't yet said anything to anyone who wasn't Ilithia.

Her eyes darkened. "Four planets, countless Sith, an endless fleet – Saul – probably several dozen dark Jedi, this…Star Forge, and Darth Malak waiting for us at the end." She flopped down into the pilot's chair, sighing. "It sounded like a suicide mission to me yesterday and it still does."

He was moving to stand behind the chair when he saw her prop one leg up on the armrest. His skin immediately began to tingle, remembering the feeling of her bare legs sliding against his in the dream. Not a real memory, he reminded himself, looking away before she would notice the flush spreading across his face, just a dream – but it felt real, so warm and smooth…

Ilithia had stayed over one more night on Dantooine, to fill up on supplies and ensure the ship was in perfect shape. Carth didn't sleep much that night, and it was looking like he wouldn't sleep much tonight either. The dream hadn't recurred, but his memory of the dream was what tormented him, tempting him. He remembered the joy in their kiss, the love in her eyes, the taste of her skin – sensations so powerful he couldn't bear to look at her when the memories flashed through his mind, afraid she would sense his thoughts. But what am I more afraid of, he wondered – that she'd be embarrassed or mad and reject me, or that she'd like the idea of kissing me, of sleeping with me…of loving me.

"Are you alright?" He jumped at the touch of her hand on his arm.

"Yea," he said quickly. Is she that good or am I that bad? "Stray thoughts. It's nothing."

She made a skeptical noise. "So I should pester you with questions about it later, right?"

I am that obvious – to her. "No, it's just that I –"

"Whenever you two have finished your chat," Bastila's haughty voice cut in, "The rest of us are ready to leave."

Ilithia neither removed her hand from Carth's arm, nor turned to look at the other Jedi. "Thank you, Bastila," she said, in what Carth recognized as the tone she'd used on Taris when she was trying to talk herself out of physically assaulting someone. Bastila must have also picked up on the negativity of Ilithia's words, moving off quietly after throwing one last glare at both of them.

"I thought you said she wasn't so bad," he muttered.

"She wasn't – when she wasn't either trying to lord her Battle Meditation over everyone and be in charge or preaching Jedi nonsense," Ilithia replied, disappointed. "She's been trying to do both since yesterday."

The Jedi ice princess, back on the prowl. "Great." He'd spent many of the last several hours trying to puzzle out what the Ilithia in his dream had meant when she'd talked about being mad at Bastila when some truth had – would – come out. Admiral Dodonna's behavior had only magnified his concerns. Ilithia expects honesty, so any lie would anger her, but this is different – this is something big.

"Yeah, well, don't let her get to you," she replied briskly, patting his arm. Serenity…c'mon Ilithia, start being serene. "She's my problem."

She stood, and started to walk past Carth to exit the cockpit, but he grasped her arm, holding her back with a gentle firmness. "But that makes you her problem," he observed. "And since becoming a Jedi hasn't lessened your ability to frustrate and annoy…I kind of feel sorry for Bastila," he teased, eyes glittering and his lips twisting into his lopsided, flirtatious grin.

Oh…damn…all hope of serenity vanished. "I'm really glad you're coming with us, Carth," she blurted, blushing. "I –" She felt a jumble of tangled, unfamiliar emotions surge though him – concern, care, mistrust, even fear. What the…?

"Thanks," he croaked, looking away from her gaze. His hand refused to let go of her, no matter how many times he told it too. The coincidences just keep multiplying, he told himself as he felt her other hand drape itself over his. She just happens to be transferred to the Endar Spire, at Bastila's request, just happens to survive, just happens to find out she's Force sensitive – at age 30, no less – we just happen to flee to a Jedi planet for refuge, she just happens to have a dream about Revan and Malak and what turns out to be a Star Map, they just happen to be ask her to become a Jedi, she just happens to share some Force "bond"with Bastila, I just happen to have a dream or a vision or something that tells me Ilithia's being lied to, Admiral Dodonna tells me to stick to my usual habits – meaning I shouldn't trust anyone – and now the Council just happens to decide to send her out on this search for Star Maps. Even leaving aside the advanced combat skills and uncanny ability to get people to spill their secrets in five minutes flat, that's a few coincidences too many. "Give me a half an hour to run flight checks and plot a course and we'll be ready to go," he said shortly, turning away. Something's wrong here – not her, but something.

"Oh…okay." She stood motionless as he relinquished his grip on her arm, sliding past her and sinking into the pilot's seat with a heavy sigh. I know I'm not supposed to, I know I shouldn't…Ah, screw it. "I'd go mad if I had to spend a day on this ship without someone to talk to," she said quietly. "I couldn't imagine doing this without you." She let the words linger in the air for a moment, then turned and walked away, stepping lightly.

Beautiful… "Damn it," he swore under his breath, slamming a fist against an armrest. Something beeped indignantly. She won't believe me if I tell her, but I can't let her walk into this blindly…I care about her too much not to try to help her, to protect her. I have to warn her, somehow.

His old friends doubt and disbelief roused themselves to object. Why? Jedi can handle themselves – and you've got a bigger priority. Saul.

He stopped flipping switches for a thrusters check long enough to give the only response he could think of; the one that was true.

I want the future I saw in that dream.