A/N: I'm sorry, I really meant to have this up Sunday. Like I said on p/atreon, my grandmother got out of physical rehab last Friday so it's been a stressful week transitioning her back, and this just slipped through the cracks.

26: It's Better To Leave Than To Be Replaced

"How many of our ships made it?" Kaylak barked as the stars streaked by the viewports. Revan stared at them blankly, mind far away. An ensign turned from her post.

"We lost a lot of fighters, a few Corvettes, three frigates, and a Hammerhead. Aleutia is reporting severe damage, and she'll break off at the next repair post."

Kaylak turned to Revan. At first she didn't notice. Then she just shook her head and turned back for the elevator. "Revan, High Command will want—"

"High Command can hang themselves."

He finally caught up to her and her group at the lift. "They'll need answers. The Foundry was supposed to be—"

"Then Rans could have given me more resources when I asked. I'm not going to talk to him now."

They piled into the lift, and Khemmaa set one massive paw on her shoulder. She almost didn't register it as she slammed her hand into the controls, and Kaylak opened his comm with a sigh.

"Are we being pursued?"

::No, sir.::

"They have what they want," Revan muttered. "We're inconsequential." She was starting to come out of that fog, and her brain no longer felt like it was wading through oil. Revan wrapped her arms around herself and drew a shuddering breath. He wasn't supposed to be in harm's way. She was supposed to take better care of him. She was —

The lift stopped and she stepped off, storming down the hallway to the medbay. She ignored the fatigue settling in her limbs. The only important thing was getting to the medbay, getting to Carth, finding out —

"Revan, they—"

"Shut up, Kaylak." Revan slammed her hand into the door mechanism and made it a step into the medbay. A man in a medical officer's uniform was waiting for her, a datapad in hand — the insignia on his uniform indicated that he was in charge. "Where is he?"

"I need you to stay calm, Master Jedi."

Revan drew a long, deep breath. "I will be more calm if you answer me."

He sighed heavily. "All right. Typically I can't give this sort of information out—"

"I'll just resurrect his entire family then." She snapped it a little harder than intended, her irritability clearly feeding her tone. To his credit, the CMO didn't flinch.

"Right. Well, he's alive and mostly stable, which is better than most lightsaber injuries I see. We're preparing a kolto tank for him for the trip back to Coruscant, for safety's sake. I admit I don't know anything practical about treating this sort of injury, we don't usually get them in here. He's sedated for the moment, but isn't showing signs of permanent injury. I was, ah, hoping you might know more, as your kind deals with these injuries far more regularly."

Revan rubbed her left shoulder, along the path of the faded black scar Malak had left her on the Star Forge. "I've never been good at healing, but I can try."

"Any help would be appreciated."

She moved past him, eyes set on a bed with a clump of other medical personnel around it. Behind her, the CMO stuck out his arm to stop Khemmaa.

"It looks like you took a little fire?" he asked.

"A little." Revan glanced back, suddenly guilty as Khemmaa motioned to an obvious burn on her arm. She should have caught that.

"Come over here, I'll patch you up."

She reached the bed and one of the medics stepped away, nearly stumbling over his own feet. Her hand clenched into a fist as she leaned heavily on the cot and brushed a few strands of hair off Carth's forehead.

They had taken him off the backboard, which was a good sign — little to no spinal damage, then. He was face down, head turned to the side, and the vivid black streak of the lightsaber burn stood out stark on his skin. She gently brushed it, the residual heat of the plasma even this long after the wound was dealt hot under her finger, and shook her head.

"Gods, flyboy," she murmured, placing her hand on his shoulder and closing her eyes. Reaching the Force after the Foundry felt titanic, and she struggled more than usual to dig enough into it for what she needed.

She felt the wound more than visualized it, but her view was much better than the brief, quick stabilization she'd done on the Foundry itself. Mild fracture of a vertebra, damage to his hip, but minimal spinal damage. It wasn't nearly as bad as it could be, and relief flooded her. She couldn't fix it, not in its entirety, but any skilled Force healer could. Maybe even kolto could. Coupled with decent recovery time and Carth not pushing himself (sure, that'll happen), he'd be fine. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Where are we headed?"

"Coruscant." Kaylak's voice sounded miles away with her submersion in the Force. She nodded.

"Unless the Republic needs him transferred elsewhere, send a message to the Jedi Enclave at the Senate Tower and ask after Thaymina Galon. Given her reputation, this should be simple for her to fix."

She, on the other hand, could try to decrease the pain, perhaps start to regenerate the flesh on his hip where the lightsaber had hit most deeply. Pain struck at her heart. If she hadn't managed to wrest even minimal control of the weapon from its master… she cut off that thought and refocused her attention, coaxing the muscle to heal faster, better —

Exhaustion seeped into her, and she gritted her teeth and deepened her focus. This wasn't an easy fix, but usually muscle was well within the scope of her abilities. Her grip on the Force wavered, and…

From nowhere, a presence slithered into her mind, far less violently than usual. She hissed and snatched her hand away from Carth, trying to throw herself out of the Force, but he was faster.

You destroyed my factory, then. His voice was sugary, as condescending as usual.

With pleasure.

I always said you would lead me to it. He chuckled, and the noise shuddered down her spine. I am never wrong.

The Foundry and all its information is gone. You got nothing.

And what price did you pay? He caressed her mind, and she took a step back and fought against his hold on her again. Emotions, Revan. Always your weak spot. Emotions for him… in particular. Perhaps this is your true weakness.

It took all her will but she threw herself away from him, back out of the Force. Her eyes snapped open for the briefest flash of the medical bay before exhaustion finally took her. Her legs caved under her, and she had the briefest sensation of someone catching her as she crumpled to the floor.

#

When Revan woke, she stared up at a gray steel ceiling above her blankly for several minutes. Grated. Medical bay. Almost unconsciously her hand twitched away from the side of the cot — not restrained, then. Something chirped to her side and she turned her head, eyes passing over HK at the end of the cot and T3 to her side. It took a moment for her mind to adjust. The Foundry. Carth. Malgus. She rocketed to her feet as she scanned the medbay, pulling an IV out of her arm and unconsciously soothing the mark with the Force.

She found her target on the far other side, floating in one of the ship's kolto tanks. It was oddly difficult to walk, but she stumbled across the room with blind determination. As she staggered to a halt, she pressed her hand to the glass, watching as Carth floated limp inside. T3 chirped awkwardly at her side again, anxious, and she rested her hand on his head.

"How long has it been?" she murmured.

/Twelve hours/

"Twelve!" Her head snapped back to the tank as her heart sank into her stomach. Just as every various worst-case scenario ran through her head, CMO Lamson appeared at her side with a datapad and a frown.

"And what are you doing out of bed, Master Jedi?"

"Panicking. What's going on? Why is he-"

He shook his head. "Like I said, most lightsaber wounds don't make it this far. I'm doing what I can. If it looks like the kolto's made progress, I'll let him out. So far…" Lamson checked the readings on the tanks. "Progress has been made, but not enough."

"I'll—"

He navigated to another tab on his datapad. "You, on the other hand, collapsed from the worst case of exhaustion I've ever seen, and I was on Alderaan during the last war. Which is why I'm keeping you in a bed until we get to Coruscant."

"I'm fine."

"The seven years I spent in the University of Coruscant's medical program beg to differ." He pointed at her cot on the other end of the bay. "In." Revan crossed her arms and affixed him with the stoniest stare she could muster. He replied with one that might have equaled it and pointed again. "In."

"No. I'm fine. This is ridiculous."

"I won't ask again." Lamson produced a threatening, large-caliber needle from his coat pocket. "The next step is this right in your ass."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's too large to use on a human."

He waggled it. "Who has the medical degree?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Does it look like I care?"

"Fine! Force!" Revan threw up her hands. "No more fluids."

"No."

"Fine." Instead of returning to her bed, she settled down on the cot one over from Carth's tank. "Good enough?"

Lamson shrugged. "Sure. Fighting you there would just encourage you. Now stay here until I tell you otherwise." He returned to his breath, and Revan grumbled as she half-heartedly glared after him. The truth was that she still felt drained, and probably couldn't have stood for much longer anyway, and she begrudgingly admitted that Lamson was right. T3 whistled at her side, and she held out her hand. HK resumed his position at the end of her bed.

"Do you have an attack analysis yet?" she asked. T3 whistled and popped her datapad out of his top. Revan sighed and took it. "Guess I'll start planning for High Command. Where're Mora and TS?"

/With Khemmaa/

"Good." She sighed. "This will be a shitty meeting."

#

Revan woke up with her datapad on her chest, the arm with the IV hanging off the side of her bed and resting on T3's top. The droid's optic swiveled back to her when she pulled it back, and he chirped.

"Thanks." She dug her palm into one eye. "What time is it?"

/Sleep = 4 hours/

"Mm." It felt like it. She yawned and turned to look toward the kolto tank. It was empty.

Her heart froze in her chest before her eyes dropped down to the cot next to it where Carth, still looking damp, was lying motionless and strapped onto a backboard. She was out of bed before she'd even thought about it and at his side, stumbling over T3 in her haste. She brushed hair off his forehead again, where it lay slicked down from the kolto, and quickly looked him over. When she looked back his eyes were open, if heavily lidded.

"Carth…" she breathed. "Gods, Carth, I'm sorry, I'm—" His eyes flicked to the IV over her shoulder, following the line. "Don't worry about that."

"I can't—"

"You've got a back injury. They have you strapped in so you don't make it worse." She frowned. "And probably sedated. They just pulled you out of kolto."

"Thought I felt wet."

She laughed, but it was hollow. "You are." His hand twitched down by his side, and she took it. "Hey, you're fine. Just lay still."

"The Foundry?"

"Gone." He didn't reply, just make a humming noise. "I—"

"You — there was a lot of lightning."

Fuck, Revan hissed mentally. She'd hoped Carth had passed out before seeing that. "Flyboy, I—"

"Not now." Force, he was mad about it too.

"Carth — it's fine, I'm fine, you're fine, Khemmaa's fine, everyone's fine. I-I had to make sure of that, I had to stop the fight. I was too focused—" She was too focused on him, on what had happened. It had become all that mattered. "Force, Carth, I saw you get hit and I just… you're all I have left."

He studied her. "You're all I have too. And there's a lot worse than death."

She was sure the full sentence made sense in his head, but she took a moment to translate it. "There's no risk of that."

"There's always a risk of that."

"Well, the next time we're outnumbered, I'll keep that in mind." Carth frowned. "Flyboy—"

"Not now, Anna." Force. If he was trying to argue with her now, he was really fired up. She bit her lip. "I said I'd protect you from yourself, but you won't listen to me."

"I am listening—"

"No, you aren't. You're arguing with me."

"Because I—"

"Is that what you are now?"

She bit her lip harder and looked away. "I don't know what I am half the time," she whispered.

Carth opened his mouth again, but CMO Lamson arrived with his trademark frown.

"Get back in that cot. I'm not telling you again."

"Look, he's awake. I—"

"Why is she—"

"Admiral, I've had her on bed rest since she collapsed after the Foundry." Carth looked back at her, and she looked away again. "Just exhaustion. But she refuses to stay put."

She looked back, and Carth narrowed his eyes at her. "Anna."

"Oh, don't you start. I'm fine."

Lamson pointed at the cot. "In!"

"Anna." Even with the sedation, Carth's voice was sharp. Revan huffed and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Fine! I'll be right here. Don't let Lamson bully you." She took a few steps back and pulled herself back onto the cot, and Lamson turned back to Carth.

"How are you feeling, Admiral?"

"Pretty bad."

Revan looked away sheepishly.

"That's the sedation. Sorry about that." Lamson made a note on his datapad. "Any pain?"

Carth was quiet for a moment. "Not now."

"Good. You'll have to teach me how to do that, I've been fighting her for at least sixteen hours."

"Heh. Yeah. She does that."

"Hey!" Revan protested. She reached for and reopened her datapad with a huff. "Watch him, Lamson, he's a nightmare."

"I'm well aware." Lamson made a note of the readings at the end of Carth's cot and nodded. "After all, if he can handle you?"

Revan frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lamson ignored her as he finished his notes. "If you get up again, Revan, you're getting a bed alarm. Don't test me."

She frowned deeper as he walked back to his desk. A quick glance back at Carth found him staring up at the ceiling, and she returned to her datapad.

They sat in silence for some time before Carth spoke.

"Anna—"

"Please — I did what I thought I had to, Carth. That's it. I promise. I wouldn't — I wouldn't do that if I thought there was another way."

He just nodded. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to have to rat you out to Bastila?"

"Bastila's been dead for three hundred years, love."

"Fake Bastila, then. What did you call her? Not Bastila?"

"Satele?"

"Her."

Despite herself, Revan laughed. "No, you don't have to rat me out to Satele."

"Good."

"Get more rest. I asked them to call ahead to Coruscant and ask for Thaymina. I think she'll be able to fix it."

"Mm. Good. You'll be here?"

She smiled weakly at him. "Lamson threatened to put an alarm on my cot. I'll be here."

In a few minutes Carth's breathing had slowed, indicating he was asleep, and she returned to the attack analysis with a sigh.

She was really not looking forward to this meeting.