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Back for chapter three! Huzzah! And I fixed a few stupid mistakes I caught AFTER I posted the stupid thing. Hopefully I've got them ALL this time. (grumbles unhappily)
Well, actually that is a large part of why, but never mind that.
It’s because of the sheer volume of alcohol it takes for someone with Jedi training to become drunk. Seriously. It’s like they didn’t want Jedi to be drunkards or something. Talk about killjoys. But enough about that. That’s boring, and boring isn’t what I was looking for. Being alone and drunk was what I wanted. Of course, after I was drunk, being alone wasn’t what I wanted at all. That’s when I like to talk.
I always found that talking came a lot easier after fifteen glasses of Tarisian ale, if one was still conscious enough to speak. Of course, I wasn’t drinking Tarisian ale. After the destruction of Taris, Tarisian ale became very expensive for obvious reasons. I should have saved those bottles I stole from that Sith party instead of playing drinking games with Carth and Canderous. Not at the same time, though. No, no no no no. No. That would have been a bad idea. They hated each other enough while sober, and neither of them were happy, bubbly drunks. I couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t a happy, bubbly drunk either.
I looked down at my glass, which just happened to be empty. When the hell did that happen?
“Hey…hey!” The bartender turned slowly to look at me. Damn smarmy rodian. “My glass seems to be empty.” I paused as I hiccupped. “I would like for it to be not empty.”
:You had enough drink.:
I scowled. Why did it always sound like they were speaking into a tube after inhaling helium? I tried to come up with something smart to get another drink. “But I’m thirsty.”
:You have water then.:
“…is the water alcoholic?”
He just glared at me. Or she. Was it a she? I never knew how to tell. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know, either.
:I think you leave now.: He pointed to the thingy that opened…the door! He pointed to the door. Why was he pointing at the door?
Ooooh! He wanted me to leave!
What an asshole.
I pulled some credits out of my pocket and slammed them down on the counter. “Fine! I can hint a take!” Did I just say that? HAH! I’d have to remember to tell that one to Mission. Hint a take…ha! I stood up and stumbled my way to the door, still giggling. Funny…the floor didn’t seem to be sloped when I came in. It wasn’t as covered in puke, either. I pushed open the door and took a look around to find that I didn’t know where the hell I was. I figured it was late, though. The halls were empty, except for some people selling spice in a shady corner, and some drunks hobbling around. Probably trying to find their ways home. Bloody drunks. With that, I stumbled off in search of home.
It’s funny how, sometimes, your body works without you knowing. I’m not talking about heartbeats, or digesting, or…whatever. I mean, sometimes when you’re thinking about one thing, you’re doinganother, and you’re not fully conscious of the reasons behind what your body is doing. Some people called that ‘ divine inspiration from the Force’.
Poppycock.
So why, then, did I find myself standing in front of Admiral Onasi’s door?
It was strange. When I really thought about it, I couldn’t remember where it was. But, when I wasn’t thinking about it, I did!Weird. After a little bit of deliberation, the Force seemed apt for my blame. If I couldn’t remember where Carth’s place was, how did I end up in front of it? It must have been the Force. BadForce. I shouldn’t have been there. And I certainly shouldn’t have been slicing the security lock, which turned out to be precisely what I was doing.
At the same time, I had to admit that it was fun. I let out a quiet squeal of triumph as the door flew open to reveal - surprise surprise!- a dark apartment. I figured I’d let myself in and passed over the threshold, remembering enough to close the door behind me.
After spending eight years in the dark, one gets very good at seeing and manoeuvring in the dark. I was very good at manoeuvring in the dark. Carth’s furniture just kept shifting and jumping in my way, which made it very hard to move about silently. I cursed quietly as I whacked my shin hard against a low coffee table that really seemed to be opposed to me advancing.
The set-up was almost the same as in Mission’s place. Carth’s just had a few more turns that led into rooms. After trial and error, I eventually found the master bedroom. Carth was snoring away happily, illuminated by the moon. It was sort of silly of him to face the window. It would probably be a good view, though, I you didn’t mind getting woken up by the large glowing orb that rose every morning.
Thesun. It was called the sun.
I gave myself a mental pat on the back and walked over to the large window.
“Oooh…pretty.” The other glowing orb thingy- moon, duh, I already said that- cast a silver light over everything. I liked it. It was very, very nice. It made everything look clean and cold, like a sword’s edge. I had a lightsaber crystal that gave off that sort of light. It was in one of the lightsabers I always kept with me. It wasn’t really significant…I just liked it. The previous owner was a bitch. I snickered as I remembered how she had looked so horrified when I sliced her arm off. “Heh…she sucked so much.”
“Who are you!? What are you doing in here??”
I turned around unsteadily to face Carth, who seemed very startled to see someone standing in his bedroom. I didn’t blame him. I’d be a bit disturbed myself. And that was another reason why Jedi weren’t supposed to drink…they tended to miss things they would have otherwise noticed. Like someone not snoring anymore due to the fact that they weren’t asleep anymore. I swayed a bit and watched as he rubbed his eyes incredulously.
“Revan?? Is that you?”
I paused. I could say yes, then just wipe his memory, but I knew what it was like to have your memories wiped. They come back. So that was really only a temporary fix, and it would probably make him angry. It would have made me angry. Hell, it did make me angry. I was still angry about that. But enough about me. So, there was really only one other option: somehow convince him that he was still dreaming.
“Yeah. It’sh me, aawwwwlright.” I grinned, still swaying. It wasn’t my fault, though. I wouldn’t have been swaying if he knew how to keep his room still. He cocked his head to the side.
“Are you…drunk?”
I pursed my lips in thought. “It’sh quite undoubtedly a possibility.” The room had increased its speed, and with it lumbering around my head like that, I found it hard to keep my balance. I caught the window ledge and steadied myself. “Mind if I sit down there?” I didn’t want to fall down. That would have been embarrassing.
“Uh…sure.” He seemed lost for words. I understood. I kept losing my words all over the place. I managed to make my way over to the side of the bed without falling, and I sat down more heavily than I meant to. I smiled over my shoulder at Carth.
“Hi.”
“How much did you drink??” He crinkled his nose a bit. “You smell like someone dumped a bottle whiskey over you.”
“Notover, into.” I pointed to my mouth. “In.”
He shook his head incredulously. “This has to be a dream.”
“Yesh.” I nodded my head sagely, but it was suddenly so heavy I found it hard to lift it back up. “Dream. Yesh.”
“I’ve never seen you this plastered before.” He laughed quietly to himself, like he didn’t want me to hear. But I heard. I wasn’t going to say anything, though, just in case he was laughing about something else that I didn’t know about. That would be rude of me.
I shrugged my shoulders lazily. “Nope.” I suddenly felt the urge to get up and go somewhere. I wasn’t sure where, but that was what got me from there to here in the first place, right? I stood up again and meandered over to a shelf on the far wall. It had lots of little trinkets on it. Some of them were shiny, too. I’d never tell anyone, so shhhh, but I like shiny things. I let my fingers hover over the objects. I didn’t touch them, though. If I got them dirty, they wouldn’t shine. Most of them were medals. I saw one that was familiar, and smiled crookedly.
“I ‘member thish!” I carefully picked up the medal. My fingers felt thick and numb, so I was really, actually careful. “All of ush got these after we made the Star Forge s’plode.” I paused. “Well, all of ush ‘cept Bastila. I killed her, and she s’ploded with the Forge.” I felt myself smiling absent mindedly. “She was a bitch.” I looked over at Carth, who seemed a bit depressed. I knew when Carthy looked depressed. That was pretty much his default look when we had first met. I frowned. “What’s got you all durpressed?”
He sighed heavily. You’d think that sighs would be light things, since they were nothing but air. Sighs could be many things, I guess. His just happened to be heavy. “Did Bastila rub off on you or what?” I asked, slightly put off by his frown. Was it something I said? I stumbled back over and sat down beside him again. I reached out and ruffled his hair lightly. I always liked his hair. Such a pretty shade of brown. It reminded me of caffa, and I really liked caffa, so I suppose it was natural for me to like his hair. Or did I like caffa because it was the same color as his hair? Was it even the same thing? My head was starting to spin again. No, wait…that was the room spinning.
“We should have been able to save her.”
I huffed loudly. “I did try. She didn’t want to come back! Said something about killing me. I don’t remember.” I pouted. “I don’t want to talk about her. She’s dead. Dead people aren’t fun, they’re dead. All they can do is decompose. Composing is neat. Decomposing isn’t.”
Carth sputtered with repressed laughter. I flinched a bit and gave him a concerned look.
“Are you choking on something?”
“You are really, really drunk.” He grinned roguishly and shook his head.
“Thanksh for your concern, buddy.” I handed him his medal and rifled through my pockets for mine. It was one of those things I always kept with me, too, even though it was a stupid looking medal. I pulled mine out of a small inner pocket and handed that to him, too. He looked at them with a soft expression. I made me want to hug him like a gizka. A lone gizka. One gizka is cute. A whole pile of ’em is trouble. I liked gizka, in the singular. I liked Carth in the singular, too, but that really wasn’t a concern.
“You still have yours.”
“Psh! Well, yeah! I jus’ handed it to you!” Duh! “What, d’you think I would’ve gotten rid of it? Why would I go and do something like that!?”
“I guess I just thought you’d try to leave everything behind you.” He was frowning again. Why was he always frowning all the time? Didn’t he know how cute he looked when he smiled? Or, wait…wasn’t that what he always said to me? He held the metal out to me, but I just closed his hand around it.
“You keep it. Now you have two!” I clapped happily. “Besides, I really don’t need it anymore. Not now that I’m back.” Oops. Shit. If only he didn’t catch on.
“What do you mean, now that you’re back?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me.
Shit! He caught on!
“You tell me. It’s your dream, after all.” Phew. Thank you, Mr. Brain, for working without me. He looked at the medal pensively. “I really want you to have it. It helped remind me of you. Same with this!” I searched through my pockets once again and pulled out a small stone about the size of a marble. It was smooth and shiny. I held it up to the moonlight. “I found this in one of the ruins. It reminded me of your eyes.” It was actually about the same color as his eyes. It was a smooth, dark chocolate color, flecked with light brown and gold. I gave it to him as well. “You can have it, too.” I frowned. “I found a lot of interesting rocks out there, but that one was my favourite. No worries, though. I still like you more than any rock.” I smiled and laid down beside him. My stomach was beginning to protest a bit, and I was hoping that laying down would help quell the gastric rebellion. He was still sitting, looking at the rock curiously. I watched him and grinned.
“I missed you, you hairless Wookie.” I did feel a bit better, so I managed to get myself into a sitting position and slumped over until I was resting against his bare shoulder. His skin felt so cool…which is probably why he put his hand up to my forehead in alarm.
“You feel warm. Are you sure you’re okay?” His eyes were as full of concern as my belly was of alcohol, which was pretty much to the brim. Okay, maybe overflowing. I pushed myself off the bed.
“Mind telling me where the nearest ‘fresher ish?”
“Down the hall, second door to your right.”
“Thank you.” I quickly made my way there. After heaving my guts out and washing my mouth quite a few times, I made my way back, feeling shaky and clammy but more clear-headed. I climbed back onto the bed and assumed the same position I was in before I left.
“Feel better?” I could hear the smug smile in his voice. I groaned pitifully in reply. “That’ll teach you.”
“Nah. It didn’t last time, and it won’t next time.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’m stupid like that.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Yes, you are, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, and you’re stupid for being awake this late at night, even if thisis a dream.” I pulled away from him and gave him a stern look. “I’m sure you have a big day tomorrow, Admiral.”
He grimaced. “It’s the day after that I’m not looking forward to.”
“Why?” I watched him curiously as he laid back, folding his arms behind his head and resting on them, even though he had a big, fluffy pillow. Silly man.
“It’s the anniversary of the destruction of the Star Forge.” I still thought it was a strange thing to celebrate. “I don’t think I’m going to go this year.”
“Why not?” I sat further up the bed until my back was resting against the wall, which was refreshingly cool, and stroked his hair.
“It’s not the same without you.”
I was touched. I smiled sadly as he closed his eyes. “Well, I think you should go. You never know what surprises might be there.”
He cracked an eyelid open and cast me a sarcastic glance. “Right. What, are you saying you’re going to show?”
“I’m not going to confirm nor deny that.” I grinned impishly. “You’ll just have to go and see.”
“Why can’t I ever get a straight answer out of you?” He grumped, closing his eyes again.
“I was a Jedi, remember?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
I gave his hair one last ruffle, then swung my legs off the side of the bed. I was about to stand up when he grabbed my wrist. He looked wide awake, which shook me down to my core.
“You’re…you’re not going to be here when I wake up, are you?” His voice was quiet and laced with more than a little hurt. It made my heart ache. How did I survive eight years without him?
Oh, yeah. The alcohol and violence helped keep me preoccupied.
I smiled sadly and shook my head. A look of absolute despair entered his eyes. I swear my heart was about to burst out of my chest, wrap its vena cavas around his neck lovingly, and refuse to leave with the rest of me. That just wouldn’t work. I gently removed his hand from my wrist and bent over to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. He probably got a good down the blouse look, too, but that was an unintended bonus. I pulled back and gave him a reassuring smile.
“It won’t be too much longer. I promise. Now promise me you’ll go to the celebration.”
My words seemed to help him calm down a lot, and he already looked well on his way to slumber land.
“Mmhm.” He mumbled tiredly. He was out like a light within seconds. He must’ve had a rough day, chatting with Mission and everything. I know from experience that that can take a lot out of person.
As I was walking out, I noticed something catch the light on a nearby nightstand. It was the two medals, along with the stone. It looked like they were set down carefully, perfectly lined up with each other. I grabbed the stone, set it in one of his hands, and closed his fingers around it.
“Don’t lose that, Onasi. It’s special.” He mumbled incoherently in reply and rolled over. I laughed quietly to myself and made my way to the door. Well, after taking another short trip to the ’fresher, first.
Damn cheap booze.
I stumbled into Mission’s apartment at four in the morning. I know it was four in the morning because the fridge, of all things, had averybright chronometer on it. Wincing slightly, I stumbled my way to the guest room for, hopefully, a nice, long sleep.
I was going to have such a hangover tomorrow.