Carth Onasi sighed as he sat down wearily on his bunk. He knew what was going to happen today; he knew and he could not stop the events from unfolding. He thought back to his wife and children that he had left behind on Coruscant, and smiled when their familiar faces popped into his mind.

The first face that he thought of was Revan. His wife was perhaps the most beautiful woman in all the galaxies, and it wasn't just biased opinion talking. He had shown holos of her to his men, and she had earned more than just a few whistles. She was golden skinned and dark haired, two attributes that made her glorious blue eyes shine out from her pretty face. She didn't think that she was pretty though, a fact that both infuriated and melted Carth. She was humble, and somehow, that only made her appear all the more beautiful. Carth smiled when he thought of her musical laughter, the blush that all to easily crept up her pretty cheeks, the mischievous look that filled her eyes when she teased him, the shy smile that blossomed onto her face when they made love… he loved his wife, perhaps even more than he loved him children, a fact that shamed him. But he couldn't help thinking…if I lost a child; I could have another, if I lost Revan… Revan loved the children more, and he knew it. She had told him so on several occasions, and had informed him that if he had to choose between her life and theirs and he chose her's, she'd be dead within an hour. The thought made him smile. They had been in an argument, and she had placed her hands on her hips and looked him square in the eye when she had told him that. That was one of the reasons that he loved her so much.

The second face that flashed before him was that of his daughter, Aaitha. The eight-year-old girl was a carbon copy of her mother, from her flashing blue eyes to her golden skin. The only major difference between the two was that Aaitha had undertones of gold to her raven hair, while her mother had red ones. Carth had later learned that the Jedi had been able to permanently change Revan's hair color in the hopes that she would never find her true identity. Her natural color was that of her children's. Carth let out a soft laugh when he thought of his only daughter running around, her hair flying out behind her, her face and dress covered in dirt. She was a daddy's girl, quick to smile, quick to laugh, and quick to cry. Revan said that the little girl would never make a good Jedi- she was far too emotional.

Carth's youngest son, Atirem, on the other hand, would make a perfect Jedi. He was slow to reaction, not because he was dim witted, but because he was so easy going. He was a solemn little boy, who looked a great deal like his father. Yes, it was true that he had Revan's hair and coloring, but he had Carth's warm brown eyes, and basic facial features and expressions. He adored his mother, though, just as Aaitha adored her father.

Dustil, Carth's oldest child at twenty three, came from his first marriage to a beautiful, blonde named Morgana, a kind and patient woman, opposite in every way from Revan except from her stubbornness. Carth still loved the woman, and Revan knew that. It wasn't easy to forget sixteen years of your life spent with the same woman, and his wife understood, and accepted it without jealousy. Dustil, however, could not understand that. Even as a man grown, eleven years after his mother's death, Dustil could not help but see Revan as the other woman in a sacred relationship. He had hurt Mission, the little blue twi'lek in an attempt to get revenge at his father's new wife. Even so, Carth could see his son's heart, especially when he was around his half-siblings. Though not kind to their mother, Dustil adored the twins.

Carth wearily rubbed his hand over his face. What were they to do without him? He fervently prayed that Revan would be able to get under Dustil's defenses and that he could love her after Carth was gone.

Just then, Atton walked into the room. "You all right," the younger man asked as he sat down on the edge of Carth's bunk.

Carth shrugged. "Just thinking about my family I guess," he said, and then trailed off. Both men were silent for a time. "We're not going to get back home alive." Carth said it as a statement, not a question.

Atton didn't bother with false reassurances. He had seen his death through in a window in the force. "I know," he said simply. He turned to Carth. "What's your biggest regret?" he asked.

Carth thought for a moment before answering. "A while ago, I would have said Telos, but without Telos I wouldn't have Revan or my children. I would have said not being there for Dustil, but I've learned that I cannot blame myself for his mistakes. I guess… I guess I don't have any real regrets. Without my past, I wouldn't have my life. The only thing that I would change is that my children will grow up without a father," he said softly, looking out his window into the vast void of space. "What about you?" he asked, turning his attention back towards Atton.

Atton smiled ruefully. "A few years ago, I would have said that my biggest regret came from something in my past. I guess that I've learned the same lesson that you have. My past shaped the man that I've become today. My only regret is that Vitaria's and my son will be born without a father, that he won't have any memories of me, and that I won't be there for my daughter when she becomes a woman."

Carth nodded, and then sat in silence for a time, contemplating what was to come. "We should write our families a last letter," he said at last. "To tell them how much we love them in our last hours."

Atton smiled slightly, and pulled out two datapads, handing one to Carth. "The hardest thing to do is to say goodbye to those that we love." Atton smiled slightly. "Hmm, I never thought that I'd hear any of this come from me. Atton the pazaak player and frequenter of many cantinas has gone soft," he said with a soft chuckle.

Carth smiled at his friend. "We change for those that we love."