Flip Side of a Coin

This was orginally a Male Reven and Bastila fic, I decided to change it up a bit and make it a Female Revan and Carth Onasi fic since there has only been male Revan pieces. Anyways, I'm not going to drabble on forever, so here is my first fic posted on this site. Enjoy. Rate. Review.

-Boom

--------------------------------------------------------

Prologue

“It’s nice to see you up instead of thrashing around in your sleep, you must have been having one Hell of a nightmare.”

Love is a funny thing. One minute you know where you’re going, you have a set plan, and then bam. It hits you right across the face and you know you’ve found him, the guy that just drive you crazy. Now, I’ll admit that I’m not the most feminine of girls, and I sure as Hell am not a believer in the whole everlasting love bit. Never have been, but when I met Carth Onasi, I knew that there was something about him. Something that rearranged all my beliefs, and suddenly I was a believer.

“I think I could love you... If you gave me the chance.”

Malak’s lightsaber beams an angry red, glowing with a vicious blood lust that reflects hatefully in his eyes. Sweat glistens along his furrowed brown, and had I not relieved him of his jaw some odd years ago, I’m certain he would be frowning. Malak isn’t like me in many respects, never has been one to gloat about winning the battle, only the war. Which much to his dismay he has lost, no matter what. I’ve made sure of that, with Bastila and her little parlor trick of battle meditation, the game is over. I win, the republic wins, Carth wins. I want to laugh with a girlish glee, instead, I maintain my self-respect and pass him a smug smile.

I though of him then... Carth. Just as my life began to fall apart, I though of him. I thought of the short time we had had together, good times and bad. There had been a lot of bad, and I really wish I could change it. Back then I never thought about dying, funny really, with all the death that I saw it never really crossed my mind about me dying. I wasn’t supposed to, heros aren’t supposed to die.

“I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth?”

I guess I’m not a hero after all.

My smile widens with an arrogant bite.

Still, I win.

He lets out an outraged cry that fill the expansiveness of the room as he pulls his saber back over his shoulder and brings it downwards in a perfect arc. A perfect killing blow, I taught him that...

***

That was the problem with stasis, always gave him a damned head ache. Rotten kids, never do it right anymore! Especially Bastila, he thought to himself.

Jolee stood just outside the loading ramp of the Ebon Hawk, muttering listlessly and rubbing at his bald head. A scowl pulled at the corners of his lips, and he felt the tingle of irritability digging at the back of his mind. He was the eldest (And in his opinion wisest.), of the motley assortment of champions who had battled it out to this moment of waiting and hoping.

Damned girl where was she, he dared wonder.

“All talk that one,” He muttered to himself, “Probably trying to talk Malak to death. She has a real mouth on her, if ullers could talk!”


Still, not even she would talk this long. Couldn’t stand to be in the same room for more then fifteen minutes, and here it was going on twenty, where was she? He looked once again to the blast doors, hope remained firmly in place. However, coldness had begun to creep down his spine, something dark curled behind those doors. The smell of death was beginning to unfurl into the room, and he knew someone had been slaughtered, but who?

Behind him, Canderous Ordo sat fiddling with his blaster riffle. The mercenary was always ready for a war at all times, be it small or large. More then once the mandelorian had picked arguments with the crew of the Ebon Hawk. Testing the nerves of Carth Onasi, Bastila Shan, and even Revan herself. Now, however, the Star Forge had drifted into an unsettling calm. It seemed that the forge itself lay in wait of the outcome of the battle between Revan and Malak.

“How long is this going to take?” Asked Canderous.

The smell, death. But who? Malak or Revan, Revan or Malak? Once master or once apprentice?


He tried to tune his senses to that stench, grey eyes never leaving the heavy metal doors. Every ounce of the force within his body tingled to life... Malak? Or was it Revan’s blood that stained the floor?


“C’mon old man, you got to-”


“Leave me be!” Jolee snapped, turning to face the mandelorian who sat there pale faced, and just as on edge as the aging jedi.


“She’s dead isn’t she,” Canderous said after a moment of silence. “We got to tell Republic.”


Jolee was quiet, but a pang of fear eclipsed the hope in his heart. “You needn’t say a thing to Carth, we don’t know yet.”


“But Republic-”


“Heed my words, sonny, we just don’t know yet.”


So there Jolee Bindo remained, his aching body tense as he waited with Canderous, the sourness of death bleeding into the hanger.