A/N: Heh. Yes, I was wondering how long it would take people to a) work out that this was a parody and b) realise who I actually was. (Not very long, it would appear...)

Anyway, I began this fic after suffering an attack of severe writer's block while working on my other story, 'Coming Together'. But don't worry, it will get updated... eventually. In the meantime, prepare yourselves for a whole host of your favourite badfic clichés, such as Ridiculously Young Revan and Canderous the Fluffy Wuffy Bunny Wabbit...

Chapter 2: The Sickening Second Chapter

SCENE: THE APARTMENT

Carth Onasi paced the floor of the small Taris apartment, looking heartbreakingly angst-ridden and tortured (yet at the same time incredibly rugged, masculine and desirable). Occasionally he would cast a despairing glance over at the bed in the corner, on which Marisu's tiny, frail, delicate, pixie-like body lay in peaceful slumber. She had been unconscious ever since the crash, afflicted with mild concussion and a severely broken toenail.

Carth couldn't keep his eyes off her. Her hair (raven-black) was tumbled about her face in the most adorably impractical way; her ivory skin (flawless; porcelain-smooth) was not marred by any sign of a wound. (Her dazzling emerald-green eyes were closed, but you can't have everything.) Her form was slender, almost childlike, and yet her magnificent orbs of womanhood (or 'breasts', for those of you who don't read romance novels) poked through her armour in a most alluring manner, getting our handsome soldier all hot and bothered.

Could this small, fragile woman be the same Marisu Arianna Raven Skywalker who had ripped apart an entire platoon of Sith with her bare hands? Carth sighed wistfully. Even though he had known her only a few days (of which she had been unconscious for all but the first thirty seconds), he had already fallen madly in love with her. She had even made him forget all about his first wife (an evil, cheating slut who didn't deserve him in any case).

Suddenly, to his horror, he saw that her curvaceous bosom was no longer rising and falling gently as it had before. She had stopped breathing! "NOOOOOOOO!" he howled in despair, raising clenched fists skyward. "Why, Force, why? Why are you doing this to me?" He rushed over to her and began to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Meanwhile, Marisu was having strange dreams, in which a woman looking very much like Bitchila fought a lightsaber duel with a Dark Jedi. (Though it couldn't possibly be the real Bitchila, as this woman looked calm, courageous and self-controlled.) It was just getting to a really exciting part when she felt herself waking up, and realised that Carth's lips were pressed against hers. (A/N: Mmm...) "Oh, Carth," she murmured, a little indistinctly.

Carth heard her voice and leapt up in delight. "You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive," retorted Marisu, forgetting all about her concussion and jumping off the bed. "Where are we?"

"Hold on a minute," Carth protested, concerned for Marisu's health (A/N: Awww!) "Don't try to get up yet. You were smashed up pretty bad when we crash-landed on Taris."

Marisu realised that she was missing a prime opportunity to have her hero sigh devotedly over her as he tended her wounds, and immediately collapsed into Carth's arms once more. He longed to kiss her passionately on her luscious, red, pouty lips – but naturally, being a perfect gentleman, he resisted the urge and merely carried her over to the bed. "Don't worry," he reassured her, as he tenderly wiped her fevered brow and made her a piña colada. "I'll take care of you, little one."

"Oh, Carth, you're so – hang on, what do you mean 'little one?'" She shoved him away from her and leapt to her feet, hands on her hips. "I'm 21 years old, you male chauvinist pig – I don't need you to take care of me! And I'm as good a soldier as you any day! Don't you know that I single-handedly wiped out an entire Mandalorian fleet at Malachor V?"

Wow, Carth thought, humbled by this irrefutable proof that Marisu was a strong, independent woman. (Naturally this made him adore her even more.) He was a little confused by her claiming to be 21, given that this would make her roughly 13 years old when the Mandalore Wars started, but he supposed that she must simply have been incredibly talented.

"OK, I get the idea," he apologised. "Anyway, if you're feeling better, we should start looking for Bitchila."

Marisu hesitated for a moment, torn between sweet, saintly Ultra-Light-Side Marisu and bitchy, badass Marisu-with-an-attitude. She chose the latter. "If Bitchila's a Jedi, why can't she take care of herself?"

"Because she's completely useless, that's why." They both rolled their eyes in disgust as they thought of the useless Bitchila. "Anyway, Malak will stop at nothing to get hold of her Battle Meditation. It's hard to imagine how someone who used to be a Jedi could become such a monster!"

"Malak used to be a Jedi?" asked Marisu with interest.

Carth nodded. "Malak and Revan were both part of the Jedi Order until they fell to the Dark Side. But," he added hastily, "everyone knows that was all Malak's fault. He led them down the dark path and blew up all those planets, while Revan was busy doling out soup to the homeless and raising funds for Amnesty Intergalactic."

"So Revan wasn't that bad really?"

"Oh, no," Carth assured her. "Revan was great. Apart from the whole Dark Lord thing, of course."

CarthCarthCarthCarthCarth

SCENE: THE LOWER CITY

After a load of really dull stuff which involved no flirting whatsoever, Marisu and Carth found themselves in the Lower City of Taris, and Marisu decided that this would be a good time to ask Carth about himself. "I'd like to know you better, Carth," she cooed, fluttering her eyelids suggestively. "May I ask you some questions?"

"I'm all ears, beautiful," he replied, with a roguish grin. (Unfortunately the author is not making this bit up; it really does happen in the game.)

Marisu blushed bright pink, almost swooning at being addressed as 'beautiful' by such an attractive man. "Ooh, you handsome thug, you," she simpered, then suddenly remembered herself. "I mean... how dare you patronise me like that, you sexist worm! Call me that again and you'll lose an ear or two!"

"How about 'gorgeous', then?" he smirked.

And so they went on in a similarly nauseating vein for about a quarter of an hour, until Marisu finally remembered why she had spoken to him in the first place. "So may I ask you those questions now?" she enquired.

"Go ahead," he said, shrugging. "But first, let me ask you something. What exactly happened on board the Endar Spire?"

Marisu couldn't imagine what he was talking about. "What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He shrugged again. "Well, it's a little suspicious that you were the only other person to escape, isn't it?"

Suddenly Marisu realised what he was getting at, and her mouth dropped open with fury. "Carth! Are you accusing me of being in league with the Sith?"

"Maybe," he muttered. Marisu gaped at him for a moment in shock, her bottom lip quivering; then suddenly, to his amazement, her eyes filled with tears and she burst into loud sobs.

"How can you be so cruu-uel?" she wept. "Don't you realise what the Sith did to me?"

Carth was taken aback, and immediately felt horribly guilty for making her cry. "I'm sorry, Marisu," he said awkwardly. "It's just that I'm a little suspicious of people since my mentor betrayed me and ordered my home planet destroyed..."

"And do you think you're the only one who's suffered?" she demanded, her voice trembling with rage. "Of course. You don't care that the Sith brutally murdered my mother and husband and grandfather and five sisters and eight great-aunts while I wasn't there to protect them." A waterfall of tears began to gush from her beautiful, glistening, emerald-green eyes. "You don't care that they cut off my puppy's tail and ripped up my favourite bathrobe and raped my goldfish. It's all about you!"

Carth watched in horror as she buried her head in her hands and collapsed into a sobbing heap. How could he have been so heartless as to accuse this fragile, delicate woman of being a Sith? "I'm so sorry, Marisu," he murmured, cradling her in his arms and resolving never to mistrust her again. "I had no idea..."

Marisu looked up into his handsome face and smiled bravely through her tears. "It's all right, Carth," she whispered. "I forgive you."

At that moment a gang of Black Vulkars appeared, brandishing their weapons menacingly. "Get 'em!" yelled their leader, and the others rushed at Marisu and Carth.

In an instant Marisu was back on her feet, whipping out her vibroblade. Within a fraction of a second she had decapitated three Vulkars and begun to work her way through the others, while Carth battled a second group in a corner. Her speed and grace was dazzling to behold as she whirled around, hacking off limbs right, left and centre – but then, disaster struck! One of the Vulkars lashed out with his sword and managed to hit her arm, leaving a cut so deep that it actually broke the skin.

"Aaaaaaaah!" she screamed, and fell to the ground. "Carth! Help meeeeee!"

Carth heard her desperate cry, and looked over to see a horrifying sight – Marisu lying on the ground with two Vulkars standing over her, swords at the ready. (A/N: All together now...) "NOOOOOOO!" he roared, throwing himself at the murderous Vulkars. "Get away from her, you bastards!"

A second later it was over, and all the Vulkars lay dead, their bodies strewn across the street. Carth knelt down anxiously by Marisu, who was lying motionless with her eyes closed. "Marisu, are you OK? Please tell me you're OK!"

Marisu let out a faint groan, clutching a hand to her injured arm. "I'm wounded, Carth," she said faintly. "Please, lift me up and hold me in your strong, manly arms!"

And so Carth lifted her up into his strong, manly arms and carried her back towards the apartment. He knew that he had to get there quickly, before she bled to death or her clothes became indelibly stained. If he could only make it in time!

CarthCarthCarthCarthCarth

SCENE: THE APARTMENT

Back at the apartment, Carth flung Marisu down onto the bed and ripped off her clothes (in order to treat her wounds, obviously.) Then he tore off his own shirt to use as a bandage, leaving his taut, well-toned chest and stomach muscles conveniently exposed. (A/N: Swoon!) At long last he saw that the bleeding had stopped, and he sank down onto the bed with a sigh, mopping his brow with the remains of his shirt.

Marisu's eyes flickered open and came to rest on Carth's face. "Oh, Carth, you –" she began, and then her eyes fell on his bare chest. "Wow."

Carth was struggling to control himself; the sight of her utterly gorgeous, perfect, and now half-naked body was almost too much for him. "It's OK, Marisu," he muttered, wishing he'd been able to find an ice-bucket in the apartment's minibar. "You're not that badly hurt."

"You saved my life," she whispered, and lay back on the pillow, closing her eyes. "Oh, Carth, make love to me!"

"Wh-what?" he croaked, hardly able to believe his ears. "Are you sure? We've only known each other a few hou-" His words were cut off as Marisu flung herself into his arms and kissed him ardently on the lips.

And thus began a night of wild, passionate sex (insert appalling lemon here, full of flowery descriptions and hideously purple prose). Several hours later Carth finally collapsed on top of her, panting heavily. "Wow," he gasped. "Marisu, that was amazing!"

"Wasn't it?" she agreed, with a contented sigh. "I've never done that before."

Carth nearly choked. "You – you mean to say that was your first time? But you were fantastic!"

She smiled modestly. "Guess I must just be a quick learner."

"I guess," he murmured, and then raised his head in bewilderment. "But didn't you say earlier that you had been mar-"

Before he could finish she had flung her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers once more, kissing him savagely. "Want to do it again?" she mumbled, as soon as she could tear her lips away from his.

"You bet." What a woman, he thought, as he prepared for another marathon love-making session.