Don't Think

She couldn't have planned this better.

In fact, it was so perfect that she was half afraid he would think she had planned it, when in reality it was just plain dumb luck that had made Bastila conveniently asleep by the time they got back to the ship, made them figure out that there was really no place on the ship to drink and be merry that wouldn't disturb the others, except for the small sickbay of course, and so naturally it made sense that they would be holed up in here with the door closed and locked, because you wouldn't want anyone to walk in and get the wrong idea-

I'm thinking too much. Time to take another drink.

Katrina took the offered bottle of Tarisian ale from Carth's hand.

They'd passed his son, Dustil, in the hall as they were on their way out; he'd nodded quietly to his father, and Katrina was amazed at how happy a simple nod could make a man.

He had practically been dancing a jig as they walked out of the Sith Academy into Dreshdae, and he paused in front of the cantina.

'I'm happy, and I think I've overdue for a drink on this trip,' he murmured, winking at her.

'I think I'm going to have to have a lot of drinks after this trip,' she had replied. Carth had laughed; she had laughed. He was happy because of his son; she was happy because he was happy, and she had finally killed Uthar.

A Jedi's not supposed to happy that they had to kill someone, even if they were the headmaster of a Sith Academy, a figure of obvious dark side perversion. A Jedi's not supposed to be happy because someone she's gotten very attached to is happy-

Too much thinking.

Katrina took another drink, stretching out her legs on the floor of the sickbay where she sat next to Carth, who had one knee bent up to his chest. He rested his arm across it, a blissful smile on his face and his orange flight jacket half unbuttoned.

'You sure it's safe letting Yuthura stay at the Academy? She's just going to keep churning out more students.'

He was a lot less drunk than she was. Either that or he held his liquor better. Katrina was too busy staring into his eyes and that of his wavering twin sitting next to him.

'She's smart. A lot smarter than Uthar was, and she already has doubts about the whole thing. It won't be too long before she figures out that the dark side isn't for her.'

Carth nodded, sighing contentedly.

'Only one more Star Map to go, Master Jedi. That's got to be some kind of record for a new recruit, doesn't it?' he teased, even as she felt flushed and proud at how everything was finally coming together- soon they would find the Star Forge, soon they would stop the Sith and she would be a full Jedi-

And maybe she could start thinking about how to solve the whole goosebumps-rising-up-on-her-shoulders-when-she-brushed-them-against-Carth-Onasi problem.

Either it was the bubbles or the flush of excitement from finding four Star Maps, but Katrina felt bold enough to lean back into the Republic pilot, resting her head on his shoulder.

'I still can't believe you said that to Uthar,' Carth laughed, and she could feel his chest vibrate against her back, the movement of his lips from where they were only millimeters from her ear. 'That 'I've killed too many Sith to have preconceptions' line...you were just about asking for punishment, beautiful.'

'Like that punishment you were going to give me?' she teased, handing him the bottle.

'I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, soldier,' Carth replied magnanimously, taking a swig.

'I believe your exact words were 'Damn it, woman, if you keep hounding me I'm going to put you over my knee and teach you a lesson',' Katrina said, trying to imitate his voice and beginning to laugh at her attempt.

His fingers curled around her waist, tickling her sides.

Jedi don't enjoy being tickled, Jedi don't start entertaining idle wishes that his hands will move lower or higher-

Too much thinking. Time for another drink. She took one.

'I guess you can't argue with the Jedi and their perfect memories...even though I seem to remember something about you asking if it was a promise.'

'You never answered me, flyboy-'

Before she could deliver any more witty retorts, Carth kissed her.

For a moment she wished she wasn't so drunk. Please let me remember this in the morning...

He'd kissed her before; not much, but there weren't many times on the trip when they weren't running for their lives, or Bastila wasn't standing over her shoulder dangling the Code over her head, or even when they were alone at all.

Every single time felt like the first time, right down to the tingling in her toes.

He pulled back, staring into her eyes.

'I hope you don't think this is payment for Korriban or anything,' the pilot suddenly murmured.

Katrina laughed.

'You think mighty highly of yourself if you think your kisses are worth infiltrating a Sith Academy.'

You little hypocrite. They're worth facing Malak himself-

Carth smirked.

'You should have a little more faith in me, beautiful.' He kissed her again.

'Why Captain Onasi,' she murmured as his lips roamed over her neck. 'I do believe you're drunk.'

He lowered her onto the ground, on her back. It was uncomfortable, the steel plating digging into her skin. It was all negated by his lips, his hands.

'I think I might need to be,' he finally said. His voice sounded sober even though she knew they both weren't.

His hands clasped hers, and they shook unsteadily. Katrina gazed up into his eyes; brown and slightly terrified.

'I'm not asking you to be...I haven't...I mean, it's been...' Carth sighed.

'I might be a little rusty at this, gorgeous,' he finished with a shaky laugh.

A Jedi is not supposed to love, a Jedi is not supposed to be more worried about embarking on a sexual relationship than the fact that said relationship is completely defying the Code and tenets of the Order.

Those were Bastila's words, not hers; and she knew Bastila could sense this but the Jedi was either asleep or, for once in her life, too proper to come interfere.

Katrina chose not to think about that. Instead she grasped his shoulders, praying that she was doing the right thing, that there were no secret nighttime rituals that he had shared with his dead wife; that she could ruin the moment with a simple misplaced hand.

'Just keep calling me gorgeous and it'll be fine,' she whispered.