That's all she gets from him, and like every time, she tells herself that it has to be enough. Except it's not enough, because Malak is right: she's desperate to fix what she's done, admitting that it can be, and she can't do that if she doesn't even know what that is. Sometimes, Jolee told her, sometimes things are beyond fixing, and you just have to keep going with what's left. And if all you can build from the wreckage is a little hut in an inhospitable forest, then you just build a little hut in an inhospitable forest, and after a while, the little hut becomes your home. It's not hyperdrive science, but it gets you a long way all the same. Well, it's still incredibly frustrating, and there's no point in going a long way if you're headed in the wrong direction. What the right direction is, she has no idea, but Malak walling himself up and her obsessing about it is not it, starting to reflexively use the dark side whenever complications arise is not it either, nor is dwelling on the past, ignoring it altogether, pretending that things are alright with Carth, that Malak is not scared of her or that she's not thinking about the gentle pressure of his hand on her back or the look of concern that he gave her in spite of… well, everything. Everything that they've done to each other. Whatever 'everything' includes. And she knows things have never been simple, but they have certainly been simpler, and the fake memories of the nobody smuggler she never was almost seem enviable now. Almost, because lies are no way to live, and because for all the bad, for all the pain, there are things and people in Revan's life that still have value. Whether they're better off remaining a thing of the past… that's what she doesn't know. One of the things she doesn't know, because there are many, far too many of those.

She bends over the workbench, focusing on the setting of the power cell within her lightsaber. A little manual work never hurt a restless mind. She hears Malak's footsteps in the starboard passageway, a door sliding shut and water running in the fresher sink, then the distinctive hum of the sonic shower. Somehow, it's not helping. She banishes the image from her mind, picking up the hydrospanner. Energy cell. Focusing lens. Crystal. She works slowly, mouthing the names of the parts as she puts them back into place. Better. The sonic stops humming, and the water starts running again. Not helping. She picks up the pommel and attaches it to the base of the sabre. Focus, damnit. She tightens one last screw on her lightsaber hilt and puts the screwdriver back into the top drawer. Done. After a minute or so she hears footsteps again, coming her way, this time.

"Oh. Hi," he says, stopping in the doorway.

"Hi."

Her gaze settles on the lightsaber in his hand, and there's a brief silence before Malak realises what she's looking at.

"Oh. That," he begins. "It's not… I wasn't going to use it if that's what you were afraid of."

"Don't worry. I was just... surprised, that's it."

He lifts up the weapon a bit.

"Carth handed me this but I think I've got as much of a chance of blowing up my own hand as I have of parrying a blaster bolt. It's terribly hot when you turn it on. My money's on the energy cell." He pauses and nods towards the workbench. "I'm sorry, I... didn't know you were using it."

"No, it's fine. I'm done. You can… here. All yours."

"Thanks."

She starts walking away, then stops in her tracks and turns back to face him.

"It's my fault, isn't it?"

Malak freezes for a second.

"What is?"

You tell me, is what she wants to say.

"You know what I'm talking about."

Force knows she doesn't. It's a cheap trick, but who knows. Maybe it'll get her somewhere.

"No, I don't."

It was worth a try.

"Well?" he adds.

"I was hoping you'd spit it out."

She sounds a bit more sheepish than she meant to.

"Ha! You know, I almost thought you'd leave it alone."

"I was going to."

Almost.

"Right."

"I swear! I just… look I don't know what it is but it's clear I did something to you and I want to make things right."

"Yes and I've told you: you can't help – whether that's about me or Malachor or whatever you think you've done. What is gone is gone. You can't make things right, no more than I can revive Taris or bring back the memories I took from you."

"That is beside the point."

"Then what is the point, Win?!"

Revan takes a deep breath.

"Look, I don't know what's been going on since yesterday but whenever I get near you act like you want nothing more than to run away from me and that's not what people do when things are fine."

What she doesn't say is that everyone and everything seems to be running away from her – the real her – and that she thought things would be different now that he was there because he knew – not just who she was, but how it felt. How it feels now. Well then. Perhaps knowing is just too much to handle.

Malak puts the hydrospanner down and closes the distance between them.

"See? Not running away."

"You want to."

"No." He puts a hand on her shoulder, then the other. "No. I don't want to run away, and I don't want to hurt you, and that is precisely the reason I'm not telling you, because I don't trust myself not to do these exact two things if I blurt it all out right now."

He pauses, tilting his head in a way that is both familiar and foreign.

"Now will you please stop probing?"

Revan nods.

"For now."

It's her past too, and she will get to the bottom of it – but not if she has to hurt him more in the process. She'll wait, or find another way.

"Which colour?" she says, pointing at the lightsaber on the workbench.

His brows narrow slightly.

"Purple," he says, and she can tell he doesn't like it.

"Would you prefer another one?"

"It's fine."

"You would prefer another one."

It's not a question.

She opens the bottom drawer and rummages through the clutter until she gets her hands on a blue crystal.

"Try this one," she says, putting it down on the workbench before she walks away.

"Revan?"

She halts in the doorway.

"Thank you."


Revan takes her seat in the cockpit and briefly glances at Carth, who quite keeps himself busy with the controls in an obvious attempt at ignoring her.

"Hey," she says, hoping that will get him to look up. It doesn't.

"Hey," he answers flatly.

He doesn't turn around, still staring at the dashboard.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she says. "I didn't mean to snap."

"You did mean to snap."

Well, yes.

"Yes, but I truly am sorry. I realise you were trying to help, it's just… these past few weeks have been a lot, and I… I'm scared, okay?"

This time Carth really does look at her, and the mixture of pity and disappointment in his eyes is almost too much to bear. Almost.

"I know. I'd be terrified too. That's why I thought… ah, nevermind."

"No, Carth. I do mind." And she just looks at him, waiting for the rest of his sentence to come, but it doesn't, and after a while, she grows tired of waiting. "Please do tell."

He looks her straight in the eye.

"I haven't forgotten, you know."

There's a certain gravity to his words, and it worries her.

"Forgotten what?"

"My promise. To protect you."

Oh. That. Well. It's a conversation they've been avoiding for a while, perhaps even more so since she came back from the Star Forge, circumventing the subject anyway they could, and truth be told, she had no plans of digging it up, but if that's the way things are going to go…

"You don't have to do this, Carth."

It doesn't seem to shake him.

"I'm a man of my word, Revan. I'll stay by your side until the end. Whatever 'by your side' means to you."

And there it is. Another life-debt. Another being tying his fate to hers knowing full well that their devotion is wasted on her.

"At the risk of repeating myself, I'm not asking you to."

Again, she didn't mean to snap, but she can't just let him go there. Not now. Not when she can't return his promise and be certain that she means it. And if she breaks his heart… well. The earlier the better. She owes him that much.

"I know", he sighs, and there's some resentment there, but she can't begrudge him that.

There is a long silence after that.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asks, because that's probably not a good way to change the subject, but despite her tight-lipped rejection, the answer does matter and she wants him to know that, so she asks him anyway.

"Tired," he says, and Revan can tell it's the truth. "Just… tired. In all the ways I can be."

Tired of this. Tired of her. Good. Tired will keep him safe. Tired means she won't have to put another mask on.

"Then go rest. I'll keep an eye on the dashboard and wake you up when we get out of hyperspace."

Carth takes her up on the offer and gets up from his seat, and she listens to his footsteps getting further and further away until they die out somewhere near the port-side dorm. They're a little slower than usual – a little despondent, perhaps – another sign of his exhaustion.

Perhaps she's been too harsh on him. After all, it can't be easy. Making promises like that to a former enemy, to one who played such a part in the unravelling of his life… it takes courage. It takes kindness. Whether he can accept her past or not, she has to give him that: Carth Onasi is a brave, kind and generous fool. Well, not that much of a fool, but foolish enough that she can't encourage him any further without blaming herself for the rest of her life. Whether he takes the way out or not, Revan wants him to know that it's there. That he can go back to the Republic fleet, or to his son, or friends, or wherever it is that he'll be happiest without her. That he can spare himself the hurt that will inevitably come from hoping for more. He has to know that. Better to dash his false hopes now than to have him tie himself to her like a faithful guard dog because of a promise he made before either of them really knew her. She won't do that to him. She won't do that to herself. But none of that will matter if the padawans aren't rescued first.


They land on the same platform as before, bathed in the golden light of Coruscant's setting sun, but the air is colder and the fog is thicker, blurring the silhouette of the Jedi Temple in the distance. In a way, it's appropriate. Carth volunteers to refuel and guard the ship, Juhani and Jolee are meditating, and there's no way she'll ever drag any of the others to a Jedi Council meeting, and so, Malak and her are the only two to venture out. Fortunately, there's no crowd waiting for them this time, no nervous, hushed clamour, and no guards to greet them or flank the speeder waiting at the end of the platform, and so, Revan assumes the news of their coming hasn't been leaked outside the Temple. You take comfort in what you can.

Revan has barely set foot on the platform when she hears footsteps on the access ramp and turns around to see who else has decided to tag along.

"Oh, are you coming too?" she asks as Mission walks down the gangway.

Somehow, the thought of Mission attending the meeting cheers her up a bit, if only because there's something inherently amusing about the idea of the kid running her mouth at the stoic, dispassionate Jedi Masters.

"Nah. Big Z and I are gonna go shopping. Stock up on rations and all that. Do you guys need anything?"

The two of them shakes their heads, and just as she turns around again, Revan catches sight of the small purple haired woman who approached them when they first left Coruscant. By the Force, did she camp here all week? Revan promptly averts her gaze, knowing full well that her chances of success are slim to none. Malak sighs.

"On second thought," he says, "I wouldn't mind a wig. And a very. Thick. Postiche beard."

Mission's eyes dart back and forth between Malak and her.

"He's joking, right? Are you joking? Because I really can't tell."

"Doesn't matter. But do watch out for…"

The purple-haired woman flashes them a wide, toothy grin and draws out a small writing pad as she plants herself right in front of them.

"… that kind of thing."

"Lord Malak, Miss…"

"Thule."

Revan mentally berates herself as the journalist scribbles down the name.

"Miss Thule, of course… I meant to talk to you about this 'classified Jedi business' you mentioned last time. My team and I tried to reach the Jedi Council but we've been repeatedly bounced and I was wondering…"

Revan cuts her off.

"I'm afraid that is the meaning of 'classified', Miss Lane. I'm not at liberty to comment on my mission."

"Oh, naturally, but would you be up for a more… personal interview? There's been much speculation as to your involvement in recent developments, and I'm sure our readership would be delighted to learn more about your personal background and how you single-handedly got Lord Malak to switch sides. Surely that part of the story is no state secret, is it?"

Revan's heartbeat quickens.

"As I said, I'm not at liberty to tell. Now if you'll excuse us, the Council is waiting."

And without waiting for an answer, she walks past the woman and straight towards the speeder. It's absurd, really, but for some reason, she'd expected the media hype to quiet down a bit in their absence. Well, things rarely ever go as expected, and she really shouldn't be surprised. The Coruscant Herald is the Coruscant Herald, and this is just what they do. Yet if the press begins digging into her 'personal background'… no, she can't think about that. She's got too many lives to save to let that fear take hold of her now.


The Council chamber is the same, bright and cold and quiet – too quiet, even as she speaks, and quieter still after she's done. It's a little like speaking into the seemingly empty air, an air filled with unseen, microscopic life that picks up the vibrations coming out of her mouth, but feels nothing, says nothing. Not dead, just dead-feeling. It's all the more disconcerting that they knew beforehand what she was going to say. Save for how she acquired this information, Atris must have told them already.

"Do you have the holocron with you?" they ask at last, and of course, she doesn't, because she destroyed it, so she tells them just that.

"I couldn't risk it falling into the wrong hands again."

The disapproving looks on Vrook's and Atris's faces tell her everything she needs to know about what they would have done.

"You should have consulted us before acting. That spirit's knowledge could have been valuable in our attempt to defeat our new mysterious enemy."

Clearly, they weren't paying attention.

"A pity," Vash says. "But I have no doubt that your motives were noble." She pauses, and turns towards Atris. "Have we got any news from the strike team on Dxun?"

"They were due to arrive less than an hour ago. They should be making contact any moment now."

They wait. Two minutes. Three minutes. After a while, the holotable lights up, and a long-faced, anxious-looking man starts speaking.

"Greetings, Masters. We have landed on Dxun safely and are proceeding with the investigation of the tomb."

"Did you find anything?"

"Negative. We've scanned the whole clearing and are only just entering the tomb, but there doesn't seem to be any sign of activity. Whoever was here before we came, they've covered their traces well."

"Then look harder," Revan says a little too sharply.

"That's what we're doing, Miss, but it doesn't look promising. We'll call again when were done exploring the tomb."

Atris nods.

"Thank you, Bodhi."

Revan starts pacing the room, clasping her hands behind her back to prevent them from twitching.

"You do realise they won't find anything, right?"

"That is a very real possibility, yes."

Ah, Master Vash. Such a talent for euphemism.

"We need to figure out where they could have gone and head there immediately. Now, the spirit did say they needed a location strong enough in the dark side for the ritual to work…" She turns towards Malak. "Thoughts?"

"Judging by their previous choice of venue … I'm assuming any major Sith tomb will do."

"Korriban?"

"Maybe."

"And here I thought I'd never have to land on that rock again. We've got to warn Yuthura before…"

The shrill tone of her commlink interrupts her.

"… unless she calls us first."

She picks up the call.

"Yuthura? Is everything okay? No, actually don't answer that. What's going on?"

"Remember when I said I'd place more guards near the tombs? Well, that might not be enough."

"Explain."

"We've just spotted a flotilla orbiting the planet. They haven't made contact yet, but they are Sith, and I feel a dark presence aboard. Now, I'm used to 'dark' but this is something else. Something… hollow. Almost like a pit."

"Any interdictors?"

"Twelve."

"Shit."

There's a brief pause after that. Think. She needs to think.

"Protect the valley at all costs. Prevent landings as long as you can. Try to stall. We're coming. And may the Force be with you."

She presses the end-call button.

Vrook stares at her.

"Have you just committed Republic resources to the defence of a Sith outpost?"

"Yes, I suppose I just have."

"You know we can't just send an entire fleet to Korriban."

Of course not. Even if they wanted to, emergency military matters are still the Chancellor's prerogative, and laying down the lives of already thinned out Republic troops to defend a Sith planet would amount to nothing less than political suicide.

"You may not have to."