The last good thing
Chapter One
I was having lunch with Dustil, making sure he was secure in his place in his father's life with the newest addition on the way. When that man puts his mind to something… there are not words to describe his focus. Dustil accepts that this is a new chapter in Carth's life. That he is still Carth's little boy, oldest son. He also accepts that I am there, in my own way, in his life. He seems very well adjusted, no envy to little Malak brewing inside me. That was, of course, weird in its own way. I don't remember much of being pregnant with Morgan, except snippets cut off by other forces and work. I am currently very much aware of Malak, his thoughts, his perceptions, his formation.
Dustil walked me back to the home I had outside of the Dantooine academy with Carth. It was more along the lines of temporary because he wanted to return to Telos, whose formation was progressing more than just rapidly. See… I have worshippers, who, like, know I want to live there… and… well… yea. Having minions is fun. Dustil came in with me, because he wanted to see little Morgan. She was just over a year now, walking in stumbles, trying to talk more. She was ahead of those in her age range, precocious, but not in the way of abnormally so. Though, force wise, she could already push away people with wind. Naptime is fun with her.
He went and relieved Carth from watching her, scooping her up and making it seem as though she was flying. Carth hugged me from behind, putting his mouth close to my ear so he could whisper, "Thank you." I smiled at him and shrugged. Dustil was important to me, too. Though, his importance did stem from his father, but it was there, nonetheless.
There was a knock at the door, non force user, unfamiliar, alone. Carth opened the door and I was by his side. I didn't exactly have my hand on my weapon, so much as my mind. What can I say, I'm paranoid with justification. My hand flew to my weapon at Carth's shocked, pale face. "Emma?" he said softly, his voice wavering with emotion. He was definitely stunned, those tawny eyes of his wavering with unshed tears. Who was this woman?
"Mom!" Dustil cried, depositing my Morgan on a couch before hurrying towards the door. N-7 gave a small squeal and muttered something about idiot meatbags before grabbing at the child. Of course, I wasn't paying much attention to that. No, our visitor was definitely the main attraction. Carth hugged her, burying his head into her hair and crying. Dustil attacked her other side, laughing and crying and hugging her. I slipped back to put some coffee on because we'd need it before the day was out.
I wasn't… entirely sure what to feel right now. It felt almost like a vision, where the world is pulled out suddenly from under you. Force, what must poor Carth be thinking? I suppose I'll have to wait for it to hit him that he has two wives. The civil, logical, and gracious thing to do now is step aside, allow him his choice, acknowledge prior claim. I wasn't sure I was that strong.
"But, Emma, how?"
"This Jedi… resuscitated me, Carth, offered me sanctuary elsewhere. It… took me a long time to be well enough to be able to travel to you."
"I… I can't believe it," he was laughing, smiling at her. She blushed prettily at him. She turned towards me at the smell of coffee.
"Who is… your companion?" she asked. He blinked, looked towards me. And I watched the moment it hit him, watched it fill his eyes. He started to explain several times but no sound came out. She laughed and shook her head. "You look like someone stepped on your grave."
He took a deep breath and took the plunge. "This is my wife." It was good to know he was as blunt as I was. Or maybe he just feared I'd spit it out with my lack of patience for beating around the bush. She paled a little.
"Oh… that's… well." She looked down, fussed with the strap of her purse, straightened her shirt. I poured her a cup of coffee.
"Here," I said, handing it to her. She gave me a grateful smile and it gave her something to do with her hands. "Please, come sit. There is much we must discuss." She gave me another grateful smile, transferred the cup to one hand and stuck the other out.
"Emma Onasi," she said. It's times like this I wish I was a more timid person, more patient to the games people play with hiding information.
"Revan," I said, reaching to take her hand. She pulled back quickly, blinking at me.
"That's not very funny."
"It's not a joke. I was the Sith Lord and I am a Jedi Master," I explained, trying to be polite as I could. I was used to this response, but I still thought it tedious. I smiled to try and cover any impatience that may have leaked into my voice. She recoiled, paling.
"Carth?"
"It's true, Em, but…" he began, but stopped when the coffee mug clattered to the floor. It startled Morgan and N-7 gave Emma a deadly look before moving to clean it up. She stared at him a few seconds before turning and running from the apartment. "Emma, wait!" Carth ran after her. Dustil hit the door then turned back, hesitation stamped on his features. I waved him on and he nodded at me. Funny how the son had more reserve than the father.
I went over to the couch and cuddled Morgan, trying to still my mind for the wait I had ahead of me. I had lulled Morg to sleep with repetitive caresses of her hair when Bastila arrived. She was quiet when she saw the sleeping baby, but still agitated and concerned. I laid Morgan down in her bed before returning to Bastila. "What happened? Are you alright? Okay, let's just calm down and think this all through, okay? Just, like, start from the beginning. And stop if you need to, you really can't stress yourself in your condition. For goodness sake, you're six months pregnant. You could miscarry. Do you want me to call Carth for you? No, wow, that was a strong response."
She wound down and finally sat, straightening herself. She was reacting to my emotions. I didn't know I was that traumatized. I think I was still in that nice, beginning area of shock. I told her what happened in simple terms, calmly sipping coffee and praising myself for my control. I might have been shaking on the inside, but I hide it well. She took several deep breaths when I finished. Before she could speak, however, a shady form materialized beside me. Riddle: What annoys Revan in less than three seconds and isn't a person, place, or thing? Answer: A Dead Vrook.
"This, Master Revan, is why Jedi don't marry. It is fortunate that he will leave you for his true wife and you can become the Jedi Master we always hoped you would be. And since your children will be force sensitive, or already are, you can send them to a different academy to promote in them healthy Jedi ways."
Riddle: What can Revan rid herself of in less than three seconds that isn't a person, place, or thing? Answer: A Dead Vrook. My aura flared momentarily and dissipated the dead Jedi Master. It was not anger so much as not wanting to talk to Vrook right now. Or ever. He had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the absolute wrong time. And why would he name me Master and mock me with the term just as quickly? I did not ask for it. I'm not even sure why I accepted it. Did, perhaps, he think my marriage would fail and I would become the Jedi Master they always hoped I would be?
Bastila said nothing. "Maybe we should go looking for them?"
"Time, Bastila. This was a big enough a shock for him, her reaction compounded upon what he is currently going through…. No, this is something he needs time with. He will come to me when he is ready."
"When he is ready to explain why he's giving you up, you mean? You don't think he's going to stay with you, do you?" she asked, but she knew the answers as she asked. "What… what are you going to do?"
I don't know. Force help me, I don't know. I can't go back to living the way I was, not and stay sane. I needed… I needed something that I had no name for now. I never considered myself dependent upon people, but I could not go back to the month stretches of no sleep, go back to waking from tremors alone, go back to painful visions with no one to calm me afterwards.
A vision hit me then, staggering in intensity and pain. I was getting better at blocking things. I blocked the vision and my thoughts and the pain from Bastila. Whatever this was, I knew it was not something I wanted her to see. So I took the brain numbing pain and saw past it to… my death. I was asleep, as pregnant as I am now, with a sliced throat. I heard my Morgan crying as I bled my life away. And there was such… quiet despair and contentment. "No!" No. I would no go out without a fight, without kicking and screaming. I was Revan. Oh, hell, I was Darth Revan, Sith Lord, Fallen Emperor, savior and destroyer in one. If I was going to die it was going to be in glorious battle with someone who had better be just that good. I was not going to passively bleed away while my child dies inside of me.
My murderer was male, only a bit taller than me. It was dark and hazy; the only thing that had been important was that I died. Oh god, was it Carth? I pressed a hand to my aching head and laid down on the couch. "I'm going to rest my eyes for a bit then I'm off to meditate and recreate that vision."
"Revan, that's not good for the baby. This one was sharp. You shouldn't… but I already know nothing I say can sway you. If you let me in, it would go easier on you. You could give me the pain… but you won't do that either. You are most frustrating," she said, and she tucked her legs into a meditative stance and stood guard over me.
When Carth returned not too long later, he wasn't in a good mood. Dustil trailed after him, eyes sharp and concerned and focused on his father. There was something of warning on his face when he flicked those eyes to me. I sat up, rubbing at my eyes. "Have a nice nap?" he asked, and there was an edge to his voice. I looked at him and took in his mood, his stance. He was aching for a brawl because he was in pain. And I got to be the target for it. I could already imagine what happened between him and his wife. He was looking to take it out on someone else because it was too much to keep in. "Did you have to say it like that? When you told her who you are?"
"I am not ashamed of who I am, Carth."
"You should be… I'm sorry; I didn't mean that, it's just…. Damn it! I mean, you could have let me break the news to her, ease into it."
"Ah, should I have lied and said my name was Morgan?"
"Don't you get snippy with me, Missy," he snapped, jabbing a finger in my direction. I raised an eyebrow and said nothing. His eyes narrowed. "What? You know, I hate that expression on you. All high and mighty, like nothing touches you. You'll have to excuse us mortals, here, Revan." He has never said my name like that to me, that dripping scorn and disgust. Force, was I kidding myself all along? I had to have known this was still in him. It doesn't disappear overnight, Revan.
"I thought I was mortal, too, bled like the rest of you? Weren't those your words?"
"I wonder sometimes! You know what else I wonder about?"
"Why not tell me, Cowboy?" I challenged. Stupid, I was letting temper get away with me. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and was about to stay something apologetic to alleviate the situation when he spoke.
"I wonder how 'friendly' your relationship to Malak was. I mean, you are raising his kid. How do I know you were just lying when you said you had never thought of him that way? How do I know that when you go see him you don't do other things?"
"Dad!" Dustil began, the steal in his voice reminiscent of his father.
"Get out," I said simply. He grabbed his well worn coat and headed towards the door.
"Gladly," he said, slamming the door behind him. I sank to the couch and wept.
Chapter Two
Dustil stayed by my side until I eventually sent him away. He needed to be with his mother and father more than he needed to comfort me. He was a strong boy, with a good heart and a strong sense of loyalty and morality. As much as this situation conflicted him, I knew he would stay true to himself. So I let him know that I wanted him to go see his mother and that I was as fine with his relationship with her as he was with Carth's relationship with the unborn Malak.
With him gone, I spent some time Morgan. I did not want her having my vision or any visions just yet. So we meditated together and reconstructed the block I had placed on her as well as going over, again, some of the basics to dealing with visions and how to block different aspects, how to control them. Despite being so young, not having the linguistic skills of an adult, she was sharp and caught on quickly. She probably would not have the words for some of the techniques; but she would know them, they would be second nature to her.
I left her in the care of N-7 and activated HK-47, giving him rather lax protocols for dealing with intruders. The two droids had begun bickering again about Morgan's meatbag status and I headed to the bedroom to place a call. It was to Carth's pocket link, and I got his voice message like I expected.
"I'm not angry at you. It probably was callous of me to state who I am in such a manner. I wish you the fondest luck in repairing things with your wife." I paused, trying not to think of how I had worded that. Was I not his wife anymore? No, Revan, you're not. "When you have worked things through, when you have settled the matter with her and with yourself, please, come talk to me. You owe me no explanation, but there are many things we need to discuss, plans to be made."
I took a deep breath to think of how I wanted to word this next part. I was more or less unphased that I was speaking now of custody considerations of my unborn son. Really. "Do not return here until you have settled this. Whether you approve of my methods or not, whether you approve of me or not, I am not your whipping boy. I have enough righteous anger directed my way to get displaced anger for her from you. I await your call." Force, but that was cold of me. A therapist would say I am avoiding, blocking myself off from my emotions. Probably true, but that same defense mechanism was one I had used for years. Familiar friends and all.
When I left the house the droids were still bickering. "HK, if you dismantle N-7, you will be forced to care for Morgan," I stated, not able to use the threat of diapers that my Morgan no longer used. "N-7, if you dismantle him you won't be able to comfort Morgan and fight an intruder at the same time. Plus, he's better at killing than you are. You wouldn't want to leave Morgan unprotected?" Content that the bots would not maim each other, I headed off to a nearby park where I was supposed to meet Bastila.
She was there in meditation and didn't stir at my entrance. I sat across from her and mimicked her stance. "There is resolve in you, Revan. You have begun rebuilding yourself, but you are using ice in your construction. Ice doesn't make a very good foundation." Could you get more hypothetical and obscure, Bastila? She was probably right, though, despite using Jedi lingo.
"I have walked similar paths before and I tend to rely on old tools…. I'm going to let you view the vision but save any comments until after. In it, I die. It's one focused on the near future. It is not connected to the Sith or anything that would be long term detrimental to the Republic. If it fell into those categories, I would have come across it before. I suspect Carth, but I need more information." I waited for the response I knew was coming. Denial.
"Revan, Carth would never do something like that!" The look I gave her said, plainly, that it had, at one point in his life, been his fondest dream. Now, she would say he's changed. "Okay, maybe during the wars, but he knows you now. He's changed and you, of all people, should know the power of that." The irony was that I didn't. I may be something different, better, for him, but I have always been as I am now. There were no dramatic changes for me, merely extenuating circumstances.
"Bastila, if she asked it of him as he is now… he is irrational, in shock. He is going through a lot and he can't be thinking clearly." And I was sure her response would be how much he loves me. Which was not something I wanted to hear right now.
"Still, Revan, I don't think he would. He loves you."
"He loves her too." I left it at that, and Bastila was quiet. I wondered then how well she'd fare with the vision. To me, it was tame, a path to the future that was not particularly violent. But to her… would it be a horrible end, blood soaked, foreboding. Would it sicken her, watching a woman be killed defenseless and pregnant in her sleep, with her child crying in the background? We'd see.
I emptied my mind, let the swirl of thoughts shift and spin like snow in a wind and waited for them to settle. When my mind stretched barren and calm I called up the vision in question, replaying it as per memory, and I waited for more. When it came, the sense of quiet despair and contentment was back. I felt the slick pain of the throat wound, the mild surprise, the growing weakness of blood loss, the frantic screams of my unborn son. I willed my eyes towards my murderer, but they were shiftless, roving, and not settling on anything. I waited patiently but my vision was hazy when it shifted to him. The only thing I got the distinct impression of was a familiar brownish orange jacket.
Bastila was pale and shaking her head when I looked up. "No, it wasn't him. There has to be more than one person with that jacket."
"Let's face it; the jacket is hideous and unique. No one else has it. Either it was him or someone trying to look like him to fool the droids." I switch one off and keep the other on during the night so as not to overheat their capacitors too much. Not that they'd actually overheat, they were too well built for that, but maintenance is the cornerstone of droid longevity.
"Then it's someone trying to look like him. I refuse to believe it of him. And you shouldn't believe it of him, either. You're going to feel stupid later when it turns out not to be him." No, I won't, because even if it isn't him, it was at one point him. I didn't say that if I were him, I'd feel the same. That I would not have stayed with me. That every bad thing the galaxy thought of Darth Revan was me. That being murdered in my sleep was probably too good an end for someone who has brought so much horror to the galaxy.
"Either way, Bastila, either way."
"What do you mean?" she asked, and there was something frantic in it.
"It would kill pieces of me to kill him, but if he comes looking for trouble, he'll get it." Oh, god, oh force, oh holy hell. It would do more than kill pieces of me. But I had our son to look after and I was who I was. I was not a victim and I would not allow myself to be killed in such a manner. Maybe it was arrogance, ego, self preservation, but the thought of such a mundane way of death… it was an affront to me, disgustingly passive and tame. I think it was more of an insult only because I briefly considered letting him. If Carth came, seeking to kill me, I could see myself letting him because him, doing that, would kill me anyways. I shook that aside and stood. "I'm going home."
"I'll come with," Bastila said, the worry in her eyes apparent, wavering. I merely nodded.
Chapter Three
"Emma, please," Carth said, standing in front of the couch Emma put in between them. Her raven hair billowed around her as turned and jabbed a finger in his direction.
"No! Was she pregnant? Dear gods, Carth, are you breeding with a Sith Lord! I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're sleeping with… that! It's inhuman! She is inhuman! Carth, how… no, I don't want to know," she said, throwing her hands up and pacing.
"Emma," he began, but wasn't sure what to say. To insist he met Revan unknowing of who she was would presume that he doesn't accept all of who she is. And explaining would be lengthy. Well, no place to start like the start. "Emma, please, sit down. I'll explain everything as well as I can." She whirled on him again, jade eyes flashing.
"I can listen fine from here," she said, scorn dripping from her voice. He began, telling her of the Endar Spire, of Taris, of the Republic soldier Morgan, and the first love he felt since he knew her. He told her of Dantooine, of the worlds they visited, of the Leviathan, and of the final battle of the star forge. He told her of meeting Revan again on Dantooine, of hearing what had come before and what was yet to come. He told her of the wait and the reunion, of Malak and the last journey. When he finished he sat, willing her to understand, praying she understood.
Her jade eyes wavered and she went to sit next to him. "Oh, Carth, I'm sorry. It must have been so hard of you to find out you fell in love with a monster. I understand why you stayed with her and believed her lies. You needed to. I'm sorry," she repeated, folding her arms around him. He held back, because he needed to, knowing he couldn't leave it like that.
"Em, she wasn't lying. You know me, you know that no matter how much I needed something I wouldn't stand for lies. Revan is… a good person. Scarily driven, too strong for her own good, not very able to relax or feel, vulnerable, moral, powerful…. Sorry, none of this is something you want to hear right now," he said, stopping singing praises to the woman who replaced her. She moved back slightly to look him straight in the eyes.
"Carth, she slaughtered thousands. She's a monster."
"She's a prophet, Emma. I think everything she did was calculated to the end result of saving the Republic. I think her darkness, her ability to slaughter thousands, was from a manipulation. I know, I know, it's a stretch. But I was there, I followed the journey, saw it happen with my own eyes. This is hard to accept, I know, but… in the end, I think she is changed from her journey. And for the last ten years of that journey she has blatantly fought for the Republic. She…" he trailed off when Emma raised one eyebrow, mouth puckered.
"She. Is. A. Monster. Everything she has done, everything she will do, everything she wanted to do, means nothing compared to the evil she unleashed upon the galaxy. Why can't you see reason? Oh, it doesn't matter. We'll head back to Telos, tonight, Carth. We can rebuild. We'll take Dustil, pack tonight," she said, almost frantically hopeful. She blinked in surprise at the hesitation there. "Why not? Give me one good reason."
"She's pregnant with my child, she…" he trailed off again. She deserves better than that. Could he really leave her, completely? No. As much as he loved Emma, Revan was his wife too and he needed her to be some part of his life. He needed her. "I can't leave."
"We can ready the house. When the child is born, we will take him there, raise him as our own. With the wars over, you won't be gone. I think you'll enjoy such formative stages," she said, smiling, no recrimination towards his past behavior in her. Carth blanched.
"Revan is not going to give up her son."
"The monster is maternal? I would have never thought it."
"Emma!"
"Don't start with me, Carth, I'm too right," she said. Carth couldn't help but laugh, remembering why he had fallen for her in the first place.
"We'll work something out, Em," he said. There was a knock on the door and it was an out of breath Dustil, his face twin shades of relief and concern. "Stay with your mother, I've got to make a call," he said, trying to tamp down the quick rush of pleasure that those words gave him. He sat in the other room, checked his messages first, and placed his reply to Revan.
"You deserve explanations from me. You make hard things astonishingly easy, Revan, and I will forever love you for that. Things are not settled here yet, but when they are, you'll be the first to know. I… I'm sorry…." He wanted to say more, but for the first time with her, he didn't know how to phrase it. "I'll contact you soon, promise." He sent the message and went out to be with his wife.
Chapter Four
The link beeped, signaling I had a message. It was from Carth and I didn't need to be psychic to see that. I was heading over there when it, or should I say they, hit me. The visions, those possible futures, so many different lines, rushed into me at once. The first was me killing my murderer. Another was a miscarriage. A premature labor. Carth on a distant world, fire in his eyes. He died in three of the resulting visions and two were suicides. There was one of me slaughtering powerless people in mass, but those images were always there due to my affinity to rage and the height of my power. I saw Tieriana and some other of my dark Jedi die, saw them take to the darkside and slaughter others. There was a middle road somewhere, but it missed the jumble by a mile.
These visions, these new lines, were the result of me turning my attention to my murder, to Emma, or to Carth. Probably to all of the results therein. When the room reformed around me, it was spinning viciously. "N-7, contact Malak," I groaned out, trying to get my bearings, trying to see around the pain. Fatigue rushed in, like I knew it would. I wanted to go sleep for a week. I hoped I wouldn't dream.
I fell face down onto the bed, barely bothering to kick off my shoes. I was fast asleep seconds later, content that Malak would come and care for Morgan, have someone check on me at intervals. I slept, dreamless, unaware of the world around me. I surfaced only slightly when Malak came and removed some of my clothing, tucked me into bed. He stayed there, with me and Morgan, I could feel his energy around the house, leaving for hours, maybe days, at a time, probably to ask others what should be done about me. Time had no meaning.
When I woke, it was night. It could have been days or weeks later. I was armed and I knew it was Malak who put my lightsaber under my pillow. There was a glint of steal in the dark, a quick slash of my lightsaber. "Oh god, no." It was too dark for me to see much beyond the faint outline of my nearly decapitated would-be murderer, but the smell was enough. There was blood, that sweet coppery scent, but under that was the scent of leather and the expensive cologne that Carth's mother always bought him.
No. No, no, no, nonono. I had killed him. I had killed him. Pain flooded in, emotional and physical. Purple lightning lit the room sporadically and I heard Morgan wake, crying. I fell and my fall broke the world into a dozen glittering shards.
"I have a plan for you, Carth," Emma began, after Dustil had left for the night. Carth sighed, almost not wanting to let her continue. "We let her give birth, then kill her. It's more than she deserves."
"Emma, I love her." She narrowed her jade eyes at his use of the present tense but said nothing. She was about to press on her original plan when the link beeped. She glanced at the caller once before turning to Carth.
"I have to take this now," she said, gentler than before, heading into the opposite room. Carth let out a frustrated sound and took to pacing. Emma was keeping secrets already and she had never done that before. He didn't understand why she couldn't accept Revan as she was now. Almost everyone else could, including his parents. But then, they weren't nearly killed by Revan. Everyone was nearly killed by Revan, a voice inside him said, simple truths.
He cursed, not really content to let his thoughts spin, and headed in the direction Emma went off in. He stopped when he heard a male voice, obviously the caller. "What do you mean, he won't go for it? How could he not? You're not trying hard enough."
Eavesdropping or not, Carth settled against the wall, unseen but still able to hear. "Look, I gave you instructions on how to get past security. All you have to do is drug her or something, wait for her to fall asleep, and go kill her." He wouldn't lie to himself and say she wasn't talking about Revan.
"Luatra, if you do not get him on your side, we will run into major trouble after killing Revan. You know her armies are legion. If you get him to do it they will look no further for revenge. We do not need thousands of dark Jedi on us."
Who the hell was Luatra? Of course, it was Emma, and he knew that. He had to have held his wife's dead body for some time before allowing them to cart her away with the dead. Had the years really dimmed his memory that much? No, he had wanted to believe. He stopped kicking himself and waited until he heard the link disconnect, with Luatra's promises that he would come around. She was already into the hallway when she saw him. He aimed his blaster for a spot near her head and shot.
She flinched and cowered against the wall. "Carth, please…" she began. He snorted and rolled his eyes.
"You know I heard. And you know you're going to tell me about who sent you." He stalked closer, weapon still in hand, murder in his eyes. He had been used often enough, been though more than enough in his personal life, and someone had just used the image of his dead wife to get him to try and kill the last good thing he had. Someone would pay.
After about an hour of bullying Luatra, he had a solid idea of the independent faction that had sent her. She had broke quickly and told all, begged him not to give her to Revan. He remanded her to custody at the Jedi enclave before heading towards the Ebon Hawk. He sent the call out to his commanding officer and received almost an immediate reply. Yes, he could head the mission to arrest those planning the assassination of a prominent Jedi war hero. They would have assistance meet him there.
He was on way, before he placed his call to Revan. When he got her message, he cursed. "If you're screening, please, don't we need to talk…. Look, Emma wasn't Emma, it was some resistance fighter named Luatra. She talked about having some one drug then murder you, so don't take drinks from strangers and keep HK on. Maybe even have Bastila stay over, though, you'd hate that. Anyways… I want to be there, uh, talking to you, but I'm out right now trying to take these people down. They had plans to kill you and a select other Jedi knights." He didn't say their plans included only ex-Sith. But then, she was Revan, so she'd know.
"I'm… I'm sorry. I've been a jackass…. I have no right to ask for forgiveness or for you to take me back, but I will spend the rest of my life trying for it. I love you, Revan….. Damn it, pick up! Urg. Okay, gorgeous, I'm off now." He disconnected with a mild curse and shivered. It was cold on the Ebon Hawk and he must have left his jacket at Luatra's rented place. Everything just had to go wrong, one way or another, he thought.
Chapter Five
After raiding several encampments and arresting people in mass with few casualties, Carth headed back to Dantooine. He was a little anxious because he had tried to call… every day… and didn't get even one answer. He would have called Malak, but then he would have had to explain why she wasn't talking to him in the first place. And since it was Malak, he didn't want to. He thought about calling Bastila, but the same idea applied. Why did Jedi have to annoy him so much? Jolee and Juhani were off planet, so they knew less than he did, and all that resulted in was a rather awkward conversation. As for Dustil, he wasn't answering either. He called a friend of his son's and only got the explanation of him 'staying at his grandfather's place.'
He shrugged it off for now, consigned that Revan would make winning her back hard on him. He expected nothing other with the way he had treated her. When he arrived home, however, he began to get worried. No one was there, even the droids were gone, and it looked like it had been that way for some time. Thankfully, though, it didn't look like Revan had taken her stuff and left.
So he left there and went to Bastila's. "You know, I'm getting a little annoyed at this run around. Where the hell are Revan and Morgan? Why is no one home? And if something happened, why did no one call me?" he said in greeting, pushing he way in to stare back at her. She blinked in surprise at him several times.
"I'm really glad she taught me to do this," she muttered to herself, before sending out a quick wave of force energy and turning away. Carth looked around in confusion when nothing happened.
"Bastila, help me. I need to know what's going on." She turned and looked at him oddly.
"That always worked on Vrook. And if any dead person should be able to manifest himself, it's Vrook."
"You're missing me by a mile, here, Bastila. What the hell does Vrook have to do with anything?"
"If you're going to haunt someone, go haunt someone else."
"What? Haunt… you guys have been avoiding me because you thought I was dead! Look, I don't have time for this. Where is Revan?"
"…I am really confused right now, but the hell with it. Follow me," she said, then headed towards the door.
"Finally," he muttered, smiling when she shot him a death glare. "Tisk, tisk, that's not very serene of you." She shook her head and led to way to the enclave's medbay. "Woah, what the hell happened?"
"Revan near sliced off your face, or the face of someone with your body type, height, jacket, and blood type."
"I wondered where that jacket was."
"Yea, anyways, the shock of being woke up caused her to act on reflects, hence the quick and 'unclean' kill. When she saw it was you… she passed out, then went into a premature labor when stims were administered to try and wake her. She's still in the coma. Your son is healthy, though."
Carth stared, jaw open, for several minutes. He turned then and hurried into the medlab, frantically searching for her room. When he found her, Morgan was playing with dolls on her lap, Dustil was rocking an infant to sleep in a chair at her side, and his orange jacket, stained with blood, hung in a corner. "Revan?" Dustil jerked when he saw Carth, startling the infant. He immediately began cooing to the baby again, his eyes wide.
Carth waved that off with an impatient hand gesture and headed to her bedside. He sunk into a chair at her side, placed his head on her lap next to where Morgan played. "So, how do we get her out of it?"
"If we knew, we'd have done it weeks ago," Bastila said, folding her arms. Morgan gripped her Carth doll tightly and grabbed for Carth's hand. Everything shattered into colors that blended, changed, and then formed into images and people. He saw himself, the bright eyed Lieutenant he had been in the Mandalorian wars. Commander Carth, hollow eyed, right before Taris. He saw his wife in the stunning bloom of maturity, as he imagined she looked moments before the final attack on Telos had killed her. He turned and saw a stage of sorts, with a row of chairs, maybe thrones.
There was a mangy, starved looking six year old with hair caramel colored from dirt and standing at end from genetics. Next to her was a late teenaged Jedi with robes a pale gray and eyes only slightly more vivid. Beside her in a command chair was the General Revan, barely showing signs of battle fatigue. Next came Darth Revan, stalking her dark area in front of a chair inlaid with bone. The Republic soldier turned padawan Morgan looked as confused as he did and kept throwing glances towards the Sith Lord beside her.
"So… what are these images?" he asked, not really sure how much fantasy was at play. The General Revan answered.
"There is more fact here than you think, Carth Onasi. All things are in touch with the Force, yes?" He nodded. "The Force is energy, and energy cannot be destroyed. The energy that made those things up exists… and can be collected by those powerful enough to do so. If you had wanted to speak to your wife, you should have asked. I doubt the woman you married remembers she is able to do these things." He caught the faint hint of disdain in the cultured voice.
"But the younger versions of me. Shouldn't the Force within me still be there?"
"It is. But who you were and who you are dwell inside of you. You are not just the product of your experiences but the product of your past reactions."
"Oh. You know, I'm not really looking forward to this."
"Then you should have chosen another mate," the General said without pity. Carth bit back a sigh and turned to his younger selves. The youngest was still blinking in confusion.
"Don't look at me, I just got here. If I'm a younger you, then, do we defeat the Mandalorians?" Lieutenant Carth said.
"Yea, and half our troops convert to Sith and we get attacked at the hind end of that war," Commander Carth shot back. He spared a glance towards Darth Revan. "Well, at least the bitch bites it."
"Actually, plebian, I'm still alive, in one form or another," she replied, drawing herself up to her full height, expression unreadable behind the stationary mask.
"Why have I not killed you yet?" the commander asked.
"Because I fell in love with her," Carth answered. The younger him turned, shock written on his face.
"Wait, so, Jedi Knight Revan goes dark and comes back as Darth Revan and then converts again to Jedi Revan whom I fall in love with?" The youngest Carth was shaking his head over that. The middleman clarified it for him.
"Yea, after Darth Revan kills Emma and Dustil."
"Actually, Dustil's alive. He, uh, sort of turned dark, too, but Morg—Revan helped me bring him back around." Carth spared the vibrant Emma a glance. She smiled sweetly and said nothing.
"Brilliant. I still think it's a ruse. Kill her, man." The commander took out his blaster and aimed it towards the Sith Lord, taking a shot. The energy beam dissipated before it even got close. "Stupid, dream rules, crappy…."
"Don't worry, Commander. If we weren't operating outside of the normal rules of physics, I'd have just deflected it then decapitated you…. Wait, didn't I do that already?" Darth Revan asked, bringing a hand to her chin in mock thought. Morgan glared back at her.
"Oh, oh, that's perfect! Not only do I marry a 'redeemed' Revan, but she just so happens to decapitate me. A-freaking-mazing."
"I'm not dead! And she didn't kill me! Oh, for the love of…. Okay, people, I am going to say this once. Revan did not decapitate me!" He glared at both of the younger Carths, and spared another glare for the Sith Lord. "Revan is not the Sith Lord anymore. She's… she's compassionate and good and trying to make this galaxy better."
Commander Carth made a disgusted sound and Lieutenant Carth glared at him. "Forgetting how the Jedi abandoned us and only Revan and those she convinced to come along came to the rescue. We'd be Mandalorians now if it wasn't for her. If she's back on the side of angels, then it's a damn good thing. Still… Emma died?" He looked a little like a lost puppy.
Emma moved from where she was leaning against the wall and sauntered towards Admiral Onasi. "Yea, Emma died," she said as she passed the Lieutenant, placing a hand on his shoulder before continuing onward. "And she'd want you to move on. I know you're not sure of how much of this is me and how much of this is constructed by you or Revan. She didn't know me, so if this is a construct, it's yours. And you knew me better than anyone, Carth. So, trust me when I do this." She stopped before him and paused a moment before slugging him.
"I will not be used to ruin the last good thing you've found after I died. I know you loved me and you know I loved you. And you know I'd want you to be happy. It is… a little daunting who and what she is, but… look at that lineup. And tell me how many are 'evil.' I don't truly understand Jedi, but I can look through that line and know that if she ended up as evil, it was a product of doing too much for too many. I respected her; she did what I could not in the Mandalorian wars. And when she fell, I was shocked, because she was a hero. I've heard a little of the details from the comical quintet up there, and you know what? I trust you. If anyone's paranoid, it's you. You know whether she's evil or not."
"So, you always were paranoid. Yea, that's what I figured," Morgan said, winking at him when he glanced her way. He spared her a sickly half smile.
"Now then, go make amends and stop letting me screw things up. Tell Dustil I said love."
"I love you."
"I know, Carth, which is why you should trust in me and in yourself. I'd hate to have to hit you again." He laughed at that and when he was finished she was gone.
"The wife's smart. We shouldn't go against her. She'll hurt us," the Lieutenant said and he, too, faded away. The commander folded his arms.
"Yea, the wife will hurt us, especially being Revan."
"Whether you believe it or not, whether you acknowledge my manipulation of myself and others as for the greater good, does not concern me," the teenager said, regal in her arrogance and youth, in her resolve.
"It should matter. Because, obviously, he matters. Geeze, get a clue. The shock of killing him sent us into a coma," Morgan shot back, giving him an uncertain look. He remembered those eyes, the mixture of grief and shock, for as much as she said she expected it she had hoped it wasn't true. That she wasn't Revan. That she wasn't a monster. Monster! He shook his head to clear it and turned back to his younger self.
"She loves me. Emma approves. I trust her. Deal."
"But, it's the Sith Lord. I have seen the carnage she has unleashed!" the Commander snapped.
"So have I," three of the five answered, all with eyes gleaming with the weight of pain and sorrow. The Commander sighed.
"Yea, it is good to have you back, General," he said to himself, before fading off. Carth nodded and turned to the stage.
"Okay, how do I deal with this, now?" he asked. They all gave him a blank, confused look, except the six year old. She stood, walked away from her fold out chair and headed towards him.
"You go talk her off the ledge she's on. Without the child beneath her breast, she has no reason to keep herself breathing. And if it had not been for him, she would have let you kill her. It confuses her that she would be maternal, that she would choose a child she didn't know over you when she has killed so many. There will be a door, because there always is," the child said. He knelt and planted a kiss on her greasy head before she faded away.
"As much as the different parts of you felt it was good to have me back… it's good to be back," the General said, fading off as well. The teenager grinned at him.
"You know, I had raunchy fantasies about you as soon as I hit puberty. You better watch me," she said. Carth grinned back.
"They weren't fantasies; they were our tamer nights."
"Do you… think it was arrogant of me? To take this into my own hands? Was my solution terribly… flawed in some manner?"
"It wasn't arrogant, it was prophecy. And it wasn't flawed, it was the only way. You know this, as well as you know that such unsubstantiated self doubts are useless." She nodded and faded with a smile. Morgan tipped her head at him without a word and faded off. He glanced at the Sith Lord.
"Now then, how are you going to make peace with me?"
"You know, that mask is kind of sexy. Will you let me use you like Dy'ean used you?" She cocked her head to the side, shook it, and faded away. And he was just as suddenly at home again, watching some stranger in his jacket sneak into his bedroom. "No," he said softly, walking behind him. He watched the man pull the knife and bend over his sleeping, pregnant wife. He saw the knee-jerk reaction, based on the weapon she saw and the feeling of intent she got, saw the slash of a lightsaber catch straight from one side of the face to the other, splattering blood over her clothes and face.
And he saw when awareness of what she had done flooded her eyes. "Oh, god, no," she said, and stood a moment staring down at him before toppling backward.
"Wow, you must have been drunk or something not to recognize me… I mean, even if you had gouged out my face."
"I woke early from a rather intense round of visions. I think coma was the first response rather than, I don't know, destructive unleashing of power because I was just that drained. It puts a damper on other sensibilities…. I love that cologne on you."
"God, how can you smell it around all the blood?"
"A Jedi bound from the Force is not without her abilities."
"Revan, it wasn't me."
"You're just saying that to get me to wake up."
"Well, okay, then you accept I am Carth?"
"Yes."
"Then I want you to wake up, be with our child, have a happy life. I love you, Revan, and I would never hurt you. Though, yes, I understand why you might fear it would be me, I haven't been acting like myself, and I'm sorry. Please, please come back to me."
Everything was dark now, and he was repeating the last part over and over. "Carth, open your damn eyes. Sorry, people, he just had his vision cherry popped. What a lightweight. So, the mask was sexy, huh?"
"I love you," he said quickly.
"I heard you the first time."
"I'm sorry," he said next.
"Yes, I know. You're forgiven."
"But Revan, I… there's no excuse for the way I acted… I…" he trailed off when I put my finger against his lips.
"Honey, you have to deal with me being the ex-Worst Thing in the Universe. In fact, during my little stay in my own private nuthouse, you went out and kept me and my fallen friends protected. Dealt, personally, with me being the redeemed Sith Lord. That's pretty tough stuff. Having you leave me for your first wife whom you loved very much, bore you a son, and who died tragically… yea, not near as up there. I understand, I said as much. I'm not going to stand in the way of that."
"Huh? Oh, she was a fake. Are we back together now? You bore me a son, too. Am I babbling?"
"Yes to both of the questions. Just be quiet."
"Okay… Oh, Dustil, your mom sends her love."
"But you said she was a fake," Dustil said, still holding the baby to his chest. Carth blinked up at him and waved a hand.
"No, no, the real one. She likes you, by the way."
"Yea, he's babbling," Dustil decided. I shook my head.
"Not necessarily," I said and left it at that. Carth put his head back in my lap and gave me big brown puppy dog eyes. Force, the man was dense in some aspects.
"Carth, I love you. You are the last good thing in a galaxy that has seen too many good things thrown down and destroyed. It will take a lot more than this to get me to call it quits on us."
"You know what's funny? I was thinking the exact same thing about you." He paused for a moment and then grinned mischievously. "So, tell me about these 'raunchy fantasies' you used to have about me."
I blinked a moment before remembering. I suppressed a shudder at being the Dark Lord again, and another shudder at being the six year old. But I shook that off and grabbed for Morgan. "There are children present! That will have to wait for a more appropriate time." Like… later tonight. He must have caught the edge of my thought because he grinned and nodded.
Epilogue
I sat Carth and Dustil down a few days later and tapped into the Force energy that had been Emma, seeing as I remembered how now. Yea, thanks, General Revan. Bite me. They had a nice, long chat, got some pent up emotion out of the way, and dealt more properly with the Sith Dustil. Emma tried to get to know me better, but I wasn't really comfortable. I think, though, I amused the hell out of her because I heard my name come up in one of her conversations with Carth, followed by rather rowdy laughter.
I'm not her and she is not me. We are not alike in a very many ways. But we found that we have some core tenants in common and when we said adieus, both of us were content in each of our roles. Carth is still a little touchy around me, like he thinks that I am angry at him or something. It's just a little odd to me when all I want to do is hold him close and remind myself that I didn't kill him.
I'm shaken by that, because I know my thought processes in that issue were not what they should be. Everything of the moment led me to killing that person who took the guise of Carth. The immediate danger. The shock of being pulled out of my vision sleep. The depletion of the Force within me. Being pregnant with my son. But for an instant I was not the pregnant Revan Onasi, Jedi Master and savior. I was not, per se, Darth Revan, but I was a warrior, a soldier, someone accustomed to killing and maiming. Most people wakened by the flash of a metal object in the night do not nearly decapitate the person holding it.
And the murderous rage in that moment, the murderous outrage I felt at viewing the scene… leads me to believe that I still have some dealing left to do. The wars are gone and over, but I'm still right there in the combat. Let's just hope Carth doesn't try to wake me with an urgent datapad for me.