Sorry for the short chapter last time. this one is a bit longer...enjoy (and review!)
"How about now?" Mission asked Jolee. He opened his mouth: silence. Mission squeezed his hand tighter. "We are gonna get them for this. Core-slime cowards!" she warbled. "Why are we still sitting here, we gotta go after them!"
"Calm yourself, Mission," Juhani soothed. "They are gone, they made sure we could not follow."
"But we aren't just going to let them get away with this, for what they did to us, and to Jiara!"
"What do you mean, Mission?" Bastila asked as she joined them. She knelt beside Jolee.
"For all this, " she said with a sweep of her arm. "For stealing Jiara from us. And for trying to kill Jolee!" The old Jedi patted her head and attempted a smile for her.
"I do not think they stole Jiara, Mission," Bastila sighed. "I think Revan joined them." She looked away sadly and attempted to compose herself.
"We can't let that happen!" Mission yelped. "We need to go after them, now!"
"I am sure the Council…" Bastila's automatic response was cut short by an angry and unexpected outburst from Mission.
"They aren't doing anything! It's like Carth said, they just wait and see, no matter what!" Mission yelled. "One of those Jedi masters showed up, he wants to see you all, now. They aren't going after the Sith, they are just sitting around waiting for you!" Bastila gave a concerned look to Juhani.
"It is true, Master Vrook was here. I was surprised to see him. He was most displeased," Juhani explained. Jolee nodded in agreement.
"Master Vrook is never happy, but he has reason this time," Bastila sighed. "Now, first things first: Jolee, what is your condition?" Jolee looked at her in grouchy silence. He motioned to his throat with his left hand—Mission was clutching tightly to his right. "Allow me, I may be able…" she began, raising her palm to his throat.
"No, you need it more!" Juhani exclaimed. "Canderous told us. They will pay for this treachery!"
"Yeah, bantha-butt-breath Sith spies! I can't believe they kept zapping you. They are gonna be so sorry when we catch up to them!" Mission vowed. Bastila felt her heart flutter at hearing the lie. She glanced back to see Canderous kneeling over the broken droid with Zaalbar.
"Mission, could you try to keep Zaalbar away from HK?" she asked turning back to the blue Twi'lek. Mission shot her a concerned and curious look.
"Why, don't you want him fixed? I know HK bugs you and all…"
"No, its just," Bastila's mind raced wildly for a plausible story. "Canderous wants to help out, and if he does this by himself, he will feel as if he has accomplished something. But be discreet—you know Canderous will accept no charity and he will be highly upset with me if he knows I shared his secret." Mission cracked a smile: pulling one over on Canderous was most appealing.
"I'm on it!" Mission said brightly. She gave an extra squeeze to Jolee's hand before bounding off. Jolee quietly waved her away. Once she was gone, he stared intently at Bastila.
"It is fine, I have regained enough Force energy for the two of us," she said closing her eyes in concentration. Jolee felt the warmth spread through his skin. He coughed, then cleared his throat.
"Well, I've been accused of talking too much, but this was the first time anyone ever did anything about it," he rasped lightly.
"This is no joking matter—you could have been killed!" Juhani growled.
"That wasn't the goal of this little raid. Look around, except for a couple guards out in the hall, no one was seriously injured. They had us, but they did not kill us, any of us. Took no prisoners either. Most peculiar, for Sith. They were here for some other reason."
"Indeed, this was a message, and they wanted as many people as possible to spread the word: Revan is returned," Bastila said seriously. "They were toying with us, trying to break our spirit."
"I'd say it worked," Jolee motioned towards Carth. Bastila looked over to him. Carth was seated near a window, bent over, his elbows resting on his knees. He had something in his hands.
"Shall we see what the Council has to say to us?" Juhani asked.
"You mean what they have to yell at us about? This will be our fault, one way or another," Jolee groused.
"First, let me speak to Carth, then we will go together," Bastila said as she stood.
"Take your time…" Jolee slipped the words from the side of his mouth. Bastila smiled weakly at him, then headed across the room.
The pin arm was bent at an odd angle, there was a dent in the corner, and some enamel was chipped away: Jiara's Cross of Glory was broken and useless. Like me, Carth thought. He stared at the medal intently, his hands smoothing over it in an endless cycle. This symbol of hope, triumph, acceptance of the Light—acceptance of him—was now a token of bitter rejection. Jiara had turned. Turned away, from the Republic, from the Light…from him. And he let her. He thought he tried, he promised to help her, but he really hadn't offered her anything to hold on to when the true test came. Fighting Bastila at that temple wasn't nearly as difficult as battling yourself, your own demons, he thought to her silently. Jolee was right—it didn't end there, it was the beginning. Five years ago, he thought it was over, the end of the Mandalorian War was to bring an era of peace: it ended up being the beginning of something far worse. Once more he misjudged: the end of the Star Forge was the beginning of the real battle, and like the time before, he was unprepared, and unable to save the one he loved most. He was running the wrong race, and Jiara slipped away. He had failed, again. Another woman gone, and he alone was the common factor: he had let them both down. Carth would have chuckled at the irony, if it all wasn't so painful. A realization settled in him; a deep, dull ache stabbed through him with each tormented beat of his heart. Nothing but a hypocrite, he thought. He spent the past five years in a cloud of suspicion and mistrust, when all along he was the one not to be trusted. Everything he was, everything he believed, everything he worked for, all his talk, his noble intentions, his combat training, his piloting skills—these were not enough to save them. He was not enough.
From the corner of his eye he saw Bastila making her way towards him. Her measured gait suddenly faltered, she seemed unsteady. Carth never moved to help her. He was unable to move. He just sat there, staring at the broken medal, the broken promise.
What a total mess, Bastila thought as she studied Carth. His black uniform was crumpled and disheveled, the collar unbuttoned with the weight of his medals pulling the jacket open to the left. He was leaning over, his dark hair cascading over his face. He was preoccupied with something he held in his hands—the medal. Bastila felt her heart sink as she realized what it was. Revan had tossed it at him specifically; that single act spoke volumes, more than any words could express; more than any words could hurt him. Bastila could not imagine how he felt…but then, she didn't need to. As she closed nearer to him, she hit a wall of emotion. Sorrow and grief ensnared her. It was overwhelming, staggering. Her sense of balance was knocked away; she lost her footing and stumbled. She stared at him in disbelief. The raw pain was relentless: the disappointment, failure, and emptiness. Bastila felt as if she were being gutted. She instantly cut her connection to the Force—how could he stand it? How could he sit there, so calmly, with this hurricane swirling inside? How could he even breathe? She had never experienced anything so strong, so uncontrolled, so dark. There is no emotion; there is peace she whispered to calm herself. It did not work, and she was not surprised. Those words were meant to be a pillar of strength, like the trees on Kashyyyk; they were revealed to be nothing but frail flowers, pretty sentiments of inspiration. The words were ripped away, shredded in this maelstrom of anguish. On the Star Forge, she had recited the Code and found relief, but now, in this turmoil, they failed. This was true power, wild, unharnessed…and unleashed by the man seated before her. Bastila realized in that instant why the Jedi teachings cautioned against passion. She always thought her Force abilities made her special, above the others, better. But she could never cope with the might of such emotion; she marveled at Carth's ability to command this energy, to produce it and bring it forth, rather than simply tap into an existing supply. She had experienced it for only the briefest of moments: it nearly brought her to her knees and she was having trouble recovering; Carth continued on in its midst. She envied his resolve and strength, wondering how he could go on. She also searched for something to say. Words of comfort were not exactly her forte, but what could she possibly say anyway to reassure him? "Carth," was all she managed, her voice choked with sadness.
"What kind of man am I?" he breathed, his gaze still riveted on the medal.
"A good man," she returned quickly. Tears were pooling in her eyes.
"You're a terrible liar," he chuckled. "But nice try."
How could he even smile in such despair? she wondered. "I…I don't know what to say," Bastila stammered as emotion flowed and tears began to fall. "This is…I am so sorry, I never expected her…you must feel so betrayed," she whispered.
"I don't feel betrayed, I feel responsible!" Carth growled hotly. "I screwed it all up again. How many people get a second chance? I learned nothing, I guess, I did it wrong all over: I let my wife down, I let Jiara down. I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't there for her, I wasn't…" his voice trailed as he looked at Bastila. She was shaking, and paler than usual, except for her red-rimmed eyes. He had never seen her cry, ever. "Hey, hey, you okay, here, sit down," he said as he got up and guided her into his chair.
Bastila stared at the medal in his hand, then turned away; he quickly stuffed it into his pocket. With all this on his mind, he still found a way to have concern for her? Bastila knew he did not understand what she had meant….she had betrayed them all, by telling Jiara of Malak's ploy to kill his master completely, mind and body. That information sent her away, in search of Revan. Bastila was responsible. It was her fault. Jiara was strong in the Force, strong in the Light—stronger than Bastila. And she had her friends to lean on, and Carth to turn to…but she fell, again, despite it all. It had to be because of what she told Jiara—that her memories as Revan were still out there, waiting. And what about Bastila? Would she be next to fall? Why didn't the Sith take her when they had the chance?
"Bastila? Bastila? You in there?" Carth's call sounded in her ears. Bastila snapped out of her thoughts to see Carth bent over, staring directly at her. "You sure you're okay? You took some nasty hits…"
"I am fine," she said with near anger as she waved him off. That Canderous felt the need to spread the lie was infuriating enough, but to have it repeated so often was intolerable.
"Well, you're made of sterner stuff than me," he said standing to his full height. "I don't think I could have taken all that, those were some rough shots. And that Alderaan woman even kicked you a couple times."
"What, you saw this?" Bastila asked with confusion. How could this be?
"Yeah…I passed out for a moment when I nailed the floor, but I regained consciousness quickly. I really couldn't move, but I saw them all gathered around you…well, I saw their feet anyway. They were using all kinds of Force powers on you, taking turns. I figured since they were preoccupied with you, I'd try to reach for Jiara's…" Carth paused. "…the medal. As I was grabbing it, I heard Canderous from somewhere behind me yell at them to leave you alone. That got their attention, and they saw me moving, and whatever he was doing too, so we both got another jolt. So much for a surprise attack or following them. Last thing I saw was that Alderaan representative kicking you as they left." Bastila made no attempt to hide her shock. She turned around to look back at Canderous. He was alone with the droid…Mission had done her job and pulled Zaalbar away. For only the briefest moment, she wondered why he had gone through the trouble of telling her the truth, but making her believe it was a lie. This was his way, his attempt to encourage her, to force her into pushing herself harder for what lay ahead. He knew she would not accept his advice—or maybe he just couldn't admit to caring enough about the crew…about her. Such sentiment is unbecoming a warrior, she thought.
"Didn't you know?" Carth asked. "I saw him over there talking to you, I figured he told you about it. He wouldn't let the Jedi take you and Jolee away after they showed up," he continued.
"What?" Bastila's confusion grew. How much did she miss?
"Yeah, I don't know how long I was down, but all I remember is waking up to Canderous arguing with one of the Masters. I recognized him from Dantooine; he wanted to take you and Jolee back to the temple for healing or whatever. I got up and joined the fight. In the end, they just gave everyone a general heal and left—you are supposed to go over there as soon as you can," Carth explained. "Lucky you," he deadpanned.
"Indeed," she intoned. "I hope they will assist us in retrieving Jiara." At the name, Carth's expression saddened. He lowered his head and sighed.
"Ya know, this just doesn't make sense," he finally burst with frustration. "I didn't get any sense she was so close to the edge. None, at all! Why didn't I see it? Am I that selfish? What was it that drove her away?" He took the medal from his pocket and studied it further. "How did she know the Sith were here, that Yuthura was out there planning something for this evening? And how did she know to bring this with her for the occasion?" he waved the medal around with disgust. "There is just something wrong…that wasn't her."
"Carth, that wasn't Jiara, that was Revan," Bastila said flatly. He was grasping at straws. His grief was becoming denial—she didn't need her Force sensitivity to see that.
"Yes, whatever, but shouldn't Jiara still be in there somewhere? I didn't…feel her," he struggled for the right words.
"Revan is very strong," Bastila began. "It could be that who we knew as Jiara is completely…"
"Don't even say it, Bastila," Carth growled. "She helped us all; she didn't even stop to think about it, she just did what needed to be done for each and every one of us. We've got to find a way, we've got to. We've got to save her…I have to…" The despair and desperation were blatant in his voice. Bastila sought a plan to distract him. A loud clanking crash echoed through the room. She and Carth turned to see Canderous loading HK onto a service cart. "What is he doing? Zaalbar and Mission have forgotten more about repair than he will ever know," Carth said dismissively.
"He is fixing HK for Revan," Bastila answered, thinking this might be what Carth needed to keep his mind occupied. "I made Mission and Zaalbar leave him to himself in order to buy us some time—he plans to go to her once the droid is working again." Carth's expression told her at once this had been a mistake.
"I should have known. That whole 'I'm your man till the end' speech he gave her," Carth said with as much mockery as he could muster. He then took a deep breath and sighed. "At least one of us can keep his promises to her," he commented sadly.
"Try to stall him, at least until we get back from the Council. They may have news that will keep him on our side. I do not relish the thought of fighting against him or especially that damn droid," Bastila pleaded. Carth paused for a moment, then nodded and shrugged.
"Good allies make bad enemies, this is true…I should know," Carth said flatly as he started to walk away.