Savior Self

Kashyyyk part two.

Rated PG13

Disclaimer: I mentioned Llorrwii. I changed the plot a little here and there, but it doesn't distract too much from the actual game.

Savior Self

Canderous did not return, though Carth had half-expected him to. He actually stayed up a little that night, waiting for the bulky Mandalorian to saunter in as if none of the day had happened. But he didn't. He didn't bother to get his stuff, not that he had much stuff, anyway. His favorite things, his clothing, his repeater, he had brought with him when they had left the ship. All that was left was his messy, unmade bunk, which no one touched.

Carth wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't really want to believe he missed the Mandalorian bastard but… the guy had grown on him, in his own obnoxious, loathsome way.

Cortessa was again eerily silent. After her snapping comeback earlier, however, Carth felt she was beginning to recover, and he was glad. So many traumas had arisen over the past couple of months… he hoped they would all emerge in one piece. However, he felt, the only way to get through it was to swallow it as it came and digest it later. It had worked during the Mandalorian Wars, during the Telos bombing. It would work now.

Carth sighed, losing his face in his hands. He felt weak, broken down from what he had been before. He realized, with a cold hollowness, that Cortessa had softened him when he had trusted her, and now he was paying the price. But he hadn't felt like that in a long time. He had never felt so exposed and frail before. Not since… No, no, NO, he scolded himself mentally, determinedly shaking the memory from his mind. He wouldn't. He wouldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, he simply refused to do it. The memory of Morgana was sacred, and he would not soil it with ideas of her. Think what he may, he would not, could not connect them. It would go against everything he'd fought for, strove for, since the Telos bombing.

In that way, Cortessa was what Carth feared and admired. A flame he wanted to touch.

Later that night, Juhani, as always, made the crew some edible dinner. She seemed to be very talented at many things, things of beauty and art, which could not be noticed at first glance. She had weaved her Jedi robes herself – Carth, if he looked, could see the careful embroidery, the delicate threads of gold at the collar, complimenting her fur. She braided her hair every morning alone, saying nothing to those who tried to talk to her until she was finished. She meticulously slicked it through three gold rings before braiding it, beading it, tying it, and securing it with gold bindings. Everything with Juhani had to be perfect and clean, even her hair, and her fur, which she groomed constantly when she thought no one was watching. He had seen her carefully lick her fingers and smooth back her ears. She had a certain feline gracefulness that he liked. She was a good person, a pretty person. Gorgeous, perhaps, to one of her own kind, but Carth felt nothing towards other species. He had seen children that had crossed between two lovers of different species and Carth felt he could never curse his children with such horrific looks. The sight of a half Quarren, half Sullustan child had assured him of that.

Carth was suddenly appalled at himself. Was he getting desperate in his age? To be looking at poor Juhani now in such a way? He shook himself mentally, and hard.

He wanted desperately for things to be back to normal. He wanted desperately for the war, for one clear path instead of hundreds of confusing ones. A keening moan of grief rose in his throat, but he had no time to mourn. The moment he had lost his face in his hands, a faint knock issued from the barrack door.

He looked up, swallowing a knot in his throat. Cortessa gazed in at him, eyes wide and blue. He was suddenly disgusted with those eyes, those beautiful eyes on her perfect face. He was suddenly disgusted with her comely body, her grace and power. He was suddenly disgusted with the knotted feeling that came to him every time he saw her, every time she spoke to him. He was suddenly disgusted with everyone, including himself.

And it was this overwhelming disgust that made him perfectly calm. He gazed up at her through blank eyes that did not see the Cortessa he loved – hah! Love! – but instead he just saw a person, a person that did not matter, as plain as a rock on the ground. "Yes?" he asked tonelessly.

She wavered, clearly sensing his detachment. She bit her lip and shook her head. "Never mind," she murmured. She left, and it was several minutes until Carth realized that he had been staring at the place where her shadow had vanished. Shaking his head, he slumped back in his bunk and closed his eyes, praying that some sleep might come to him that night.

It did, but it fought viciously with him, and when he woke he was still as tired as he had been upon sleeping. The sheets were tangled and thrust onto the floor, and, try as he might, he could not unearth his pillow, wherever it might have gone. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and halfheartedly dawned his clothing. Another day of exploring, searching a whole goddamn planet for a simple artifact that might not even exist, or, if it did exist, it might not exist here. Why would a high-tech space chart be located on such a primitive planet? Certainly Czerka hadn't found it, and they found everything and drank it until it was dry.

Maybe this was all a wild chase. Maybe Carth was going to die for something utterly pointless, never knowing what had happened to his son, never seeing Telos thrive again.

Suddenly he gagged, feeling nauseas. He staggered, taking deep breaths in earnest, but it didn't help. After a few empty heaves, he managed to vomit all over himself and all over the floor. Moaning miserably, he leaned against the wall, feeling his cold sweat chill his neck, and he closed his eyes. What had he done? What the hell had he done?

------

It was kindhearted Juhani who discovered him and his mess. Without a word, she made him comfortable on his bunk and cleaned up after him, ignoring and rejecting his attempts to apologize. She worked without any outward signs of distaste, much to his amazement, and in no time the floor was spotless. Carth sat there awkwardly, embarrassed and feeling as if he had just forced an unpleasant chore on her – which he, technically, had, but she had taken up the work herself.

"Juhani," he began for the umpteenth time, but she held up a hand to silence him.

"No, Carth, it is not your fault," she said gently. She gazed at him through warm, compassionate yellow eyes, and he sighed.

"Still, you shouldn't be the one caring for me," he mumbled. He glanced up at her skeptically. "Whatever compelled you to come in here and clean up my puke."

"It is better than the silence of the main hold," she replied sharply, backing her ears with an audible jangle of the cartouche clipped in one lobe. It was a curious cartouche that often aroused interest in Carth. He was sure it signified something: a normal ring with a tiny glass globe attached, and in the globe were several small objects that Carth could not see for they often rattled too quickly.

He looked up at her now, glowering. "Canderous," he said in a dark, heavy voice. "Canderous ruined everything."

"Do not blame Canderous," Juhani told him, frowning. Her ears were working furiously now, flicking forward and back and swiveling in all directions, rattling her cartouche loudly.

"But it is his fault!" Carth cried. "You agree with me, don't you?"

She stared at him for a moment, then scowled, her ears snapping back a final time and laying, smooth and flat against her skull. "Yes," she growled. "I do." She glanced over her shoulder, flexing her claws unconsciously.

Carth sighed with relief, sinking back in his bunk. "Thank the gods, I'm not alone," he breathed. Now he had someone he could confide in, who would believe him.

Juhani's eyes grew wide, turning into perfect golden globes. "But enough of this talk," she told him quietly. She turned and vanished, and Carth worried that she might not come back, but then she returned with a wet cloth. With the cloth, she began tending to him. "You are unwell," she muttered, almost to herself, smoothing back his hair and wiping his brow. He closed his eyes, accepting the coolness and the comfort. Her voice was a gentle, rolling sound, soothing him, and he barely heard her as she spoke. "You have a fever and you are a little shaky." She glanced at him, and he suddenly snapped back to attention, seeing the hard look on her face. "You may not leave with us to the Great Walkway today."

Carth moaned. "No," he said. "I have to come with. I have to protect Cortessa –"

"No," she said harshly, tensing. "You do not."

He stared at her a moment. "Juhani…"

"Carth, no."

But Carth wouldn't listen to her warnings. "What are we going to do about her? She's just not been herself lately. I don't know why, but I just can't hate her for what she did to me. And I want to. I really want to. I want to hate her. But I can't. I want to know what's wrong with her. I think she might be in more trouble than she lets on."

Juhani snarled and spat, withdrawing. Her eyes grew round again and the fur on her neck stood on end. Her claws shot out and her eyes snapped back. Going utterly still, she let a low, yowling moan rumble in her throat. She stood there, wavering like a snake poking its neck out of the tall grass, almost in a stalking way.

Carth sat forward, knowing he was risking another ass-kicking for pushing her and not caring. "There has to be something. You know something is wrong, Juhani. Don't deny it. We've all seen it, the way she –"

"ENOUGH!" Juhani roared, trembling. Carth saw that her tiny nub of a tail was erect in her fury, and that her claws had poked through her slippers. He recoiled immediately.

She stomped around in circles, at first so angry that her claws clicked on the floor and the guttural growl in her throat made her fur ripple, but she began to slowly calm down. The growl became a moan, which then turned into a whine. Her claws retracted and her eyes narrowed again to remorseful slits. She began smoothing back her ears, but the fur on her neck remained on-end.

When the whining stopped, Carth found the courage to speak again. "What has made you so afraid, Juhani?"

She whirled around to face him, her ears snapping forward, and her eyes, for the third time, growing very wide. "You will remain on this ship with the Wookiee and Mission," she hissed, "until you feel better." And with that, she turned on her heel and marched out.

Carth, sighing, leaned back against the wall, and said nothing more.

------

An hour or so later, Cortessa and the others, as promised, left the ship in a pack, all armed to the teeth. Zaalbar had been stuffed, still bound tightly at the arms and ankles, in the bunkroom with Carth, who eyed him reproachfully. Zaalbar ignored the displeased stare from his companion, and took to writhing and mumbling incoherently on the floor. Small patches of fur had fallen out and his eyes were dull but wide with horror. He knew this place. Something was terribly wrong here.

Mission sat beside Carth and played pazaak with him for a while. They carried on wordlessly for several minutes, until Zaalbar's moaning became unbearable.

"So," Mission said determinedly, looking Carth in the eye. "Juhani told me you were sick."

Carth smiled. "That I am," he said, though he doubted that was the real problem with him. Whatever was wrong, it was Canderous's fault, and Cortessa's fault.

Mission resolutely raised her voice over the faint keening noise Zaalbar made. "So what do you think of Kashyyyk?"

"That was a stupid question, Mission," Carth said calmly, flipping a card. "I call stand at nineteen."

She glanced up at him. "Sorry," she mumbled, pulling the wrong card and busting. She swore, scowling. "Uh… I got no negatives. You win this round. But don't count on it again."

"I won't," he replied, grinning. They started another round.

"So," Mission said, trying again. "What do you think is up with Corty?"

Carth paused, trying to collect himself. Coolly, he laid down another card. "What about her?" he asked with a false casualness.

"Don't be dumb, now, Carth," she said, fixing him with a hard look. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Like hell." She snorted, shaking her head and pulling another card. "Something's really got her shaken. And Bastila doesn't help any, you know? Juhani tries, but she's just not strong enough. I think they've all seen too much." She glanced up and then, seeing her words weren't affecting him, said in a throwaway manner, "Must suck to be a Jedi, huh?"

A wry laugh escaped him. "Yeah, Jedi," he grumbled. "Lying, cheating pack of bastards, the lot of them…"

"What has she done to you?" Mission asked, leaning forward.

He met her gaze solidly. "That's none of your business."

"What do you have against Corty, anyway?"

He pressed his palm firmly on the bed. "It doesn't matter."

"I know she beat you up," she muttered. "I know she called you names and probably could have killed you. But whatever happened… I think it's changed both of you, you know? I think you need to stop."

"Tell her that, and I'll consider it," he hissed.

Mission's eyes suddenly grew wide and fixed on his own. "You love her."

Carth groaned, rolling his eyes. "What is it with everyone going on about things like that? No, I don't, okay? She is our leader. I serve her, nothing more. She is a companion, perhaps a friend, and for that reason alone I remain beside her. But I can't love her."

She shook her head. "That's not what Canderous told me."

"Screw Canderous!" Carth shouted, slamming his fist on his knee. "Canderous started this whole gods-damn mess!"

"You got jealous, that's all," Mission said, folding her arms.

"I don't get jealous," he snorted, but felt a faint pang in his stomach as he did so.

"Apparently, you did."

"Listen, you don't understand."

"You said you can't love her," she said suddenly. "Do you mean that you want to?"

"What? No!"

"Maybe you aren't the reason she's so crazy, you know?" Mission said thoughtfully. She was only bouncing ideas off of him – she couldn't care less the turmoil she was causing him. "Maybe it has something to do with Bastila, or the Jedi Order. Or maybe… do you think she could be pregnant?"

Carth abruptly dropped his pazaak card. He felt as if he had been forced to swallow an ice cube the size of a bantha whole; his insides were frozen; his throat felt knotted.

Mission grinned impishly, calmly bending over to pick up his card. She set it on the bed for him. "Aw, Carth, was it you?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, battling back his panic. It's just a silly, unfounded theory, Carth, he told himself. You're overreacting. Why do you even care anyway? You don't love her – you said so yourself.

Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean I'm telling the truth.

No, no. Don't think like that, you idiot…

"No," he managed to mumble. "I… haven't touched her."

Mission understood. She gasped. "Oh, poodoo… sorry, Carth! I… oh, poodoo. I forgot." She fidgeted unhappily. "I totally forgot."

"Yeah, fine," he said with such raw fury that she fell silent for a moment.

When she found her bravery again, she asked weakly, "D-Do… Do you think Canderous…?"

"No," he said sharply. Perhaps too sharply.

"I just totally screwed myself, didn't I?" Mission squeaked.

"Yes."

She said nothing else, and instead hugged herself and struggled not to cry.

Suddenly Zaalbar began screaming. Not roaring, like he usually did when distressed, but screaming. A long, high-pitched sound, earnest and chilling. He began fighting his bonds again with such a vigor that one of the straps on his foot snapped loose, so then he kicked air with his clawed paw, as if warding off attackers. His eyes were wild and darting madly back and forth; spit, turned red from where he had bitten his tongue, welled up on the sides of his mouth and sprayed when he shrieked. He arched his back, bucking, thrusting his head back and banging it on the floor with force enough to knock a normal human unconscious. The bonds on his legs, pulled too tight in his struggle, cut into his shins and ankles and made him scream louder. Bloody, his foot hit the wall, and he began kicking it so angrily that his claws crunched and the metal panels buckled; his eyes rolled and he screamed again. Carth and Mission jumped up to try and subdue him, but he bit at their hands so furiously that they recoiled.

They could not focus on him for long. There was a screech of metal being torn from metal, and the loading ramp fell open with an almighty crash. Carth jumped and whirled around, drawing his blasters; Mission mirrored him. He listened and heard the faint noises of an unwanted party boarding his ship. "You go left," he said to Mission, now ignoring Zaalbar altogether. "I go right."

"Got you," Mission said, and ducked into the hallway with perfect stealth and grace.

Carth didn't have time to move into position. In unison, five Wookiees barred his path. One of them pressed a blade to his chest, forcing him to back up into the middle of the room. Carth put up a bold front, though, inside, the sight of these enormous creatures staring him down with such wrath made him dizzy with nausea. Mission began shrieking; apparently she had run into them, too. The Wookiee in the lead, a golden-furred male with streaks of grey in his mane, thrust Carth aside and continued on to Zaalbar, who had begun thrashing so wildly it was amazing he didn't break in two. He kept screaming and screaming and screaming, writhing and bucking. He bit blindly at the hands that reached for him, drawing blood, screeching like something gone mad. He was something gone mad. The other Wookiees gathered around tight, gripping any part of him they could tightly. The screams rose an octave with pain and panic.

"Let him go!" Carth tried to shout, but his voice was instantly drowned out. So he just fired his blaster, nailing a nearby Wookiee in the arm.

The Wookiee drew a deep breath and roared with pain and fury. He whirled around, and all Carth saw was black… all Carth felt was that paw against his temple… and all Carth heard was Zaalbar screaming… screaming… screaming…

------

Author's Notes: I know it's a short chapter, but I really like it. I like how Zaalbar's going insane and how Carth is like, 'loveNOWAITNEVERMINDJESUSCHRISTWHATTHEHELL' and stuff like that. And Cortessa's going to stop being super annoying really soon. I promise.

And I'm really sorry about how long it's taking me to get these chapters up. I just started a fictionpress account, for one, the school year's almost over, for two (good for you, because when the school year's over, more free time for the story), my friend just moved away, for three, and I do still have other fanfictions/novels that I'm working on, for four. So yeah. But I still love this and I'm not abandoning it any time soon.

Child-of-the-Dawn – Ahaha. XD I'll try and get a joke in there somewhere. Probably directed by Jolee – he seems to be the type for it.

Lunatic Pandora1 – That's a cute idea. :D

Dark Lord Daishi – I like to mediate between light and dark for Cortessa. Earlier in the story she was practically an angel, and now she's like 'rawr damn you rawr' and so I'm trying to decide whether or not to switch her again. But it won't matter – all that really matters is what side she's on when she faces Bastila, right? ;o

Dante-Raven – Canderous still has a few adventures up his sleeve.

SilverSentinal21 – I want to drive you crazy. That's the point. XD

Amme Moto – Canderous's bastard-y-ness isn't about to run short any time soon, either. So yay, Candy!

JadeFalcon3 – I'm glad you noticed the title. It came to me one time when I was really bored and so I was like, "Hey, why not!" And I was sort of surprised people didn't comment/notice. So thank you for that.

Facing My Failure – I get a little jealous of my own character sometimes. Getting hit on my Canderous? NO WAI!

Queenofinsanity – OMFG I LOVE CHICAGO. AHAHAHA.

Ilea Dreike – I'M SORRY I REALLY AM:(