Before - Legends The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake (KOTOR, OTP challenge, 2016 award-fic for Raissa Baiard)

Author: Findswoman

Title: The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake

Era: Before—Legends (KOTOR); AU

Characters: Female Revan (also known in this AU as [hl=black]Katts Rzewanczkowski[/hl]), Carth Onasi, assorted other Ebon Hawk crewmembers, and an OC some of you may know.

Genre: Romcom, humor. Very short multichapter (three chapters).

Summary: The female Revan reflects on her feelings for A Certain Sad-Sack Republic Soldier In Her Party. Somewhere along the way, advice is sought . . .

Index: One (below) | Two | Three

Notes: Written for the “Romcom… IN SPACE!” challenge in the OTP thread. The two elements I received were “Death of a friend/family member” and “word goes around.”

This story is very loosely based on some of the friendship/romance-getting-to-know-each-other conversations between Carth and the female player character in KOTOR, and I admit that I take a few liberties with the order in which things are said, happen, etc. Any text quoted directly from the game is given in dark blue. I’m also new to writing anything resembling romantic comedy, so this is a bit of an experiment, and I ask for your patience.

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The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake

One

“Yes? What’s on your mind?”

That’s what he said every time I came to talk to him. Every single time, without fail. The thing is, I’m really the one who should have been asking him that, because “sad little mooka pup” seemed to be the man's default mode of being, Force bless him.

He always denied it, of course—especially when I used the mern-word to describe his attitude. “Moping? I’m not moping!” he once remonstrated, throwing his head back in that charmingly outraged manner of his. I remember, of course, how the two little stray locks on his forehead skipped like baby groats. Whatever hair gel he used never seemed quite able to catch them, and that was fine with me.

And yes, I know I’m the Prodigal Knight and the savior of the known Galaxy and all that, but I’ll be the first to admit I’m susceptible. The fact is, the man was cute when he moped. There, I said it. And it wasn’t just the droopy-bouncy little locks of hair. It was his whole wistful, melancholy demeanor—the way such recollections invariably transformed him from a stalwart Republic soldier to a tragic cupcake (to borrow an expression from my adolescent self). I think that’s why I kept wanting to go chat with him and ask him questions early in our acquaintance. (Oh, how he bellyached about that at first! Though that, in its way, was cute too. And hey, he was arguably the one who started it with the “I’m all ears, beautiful” business.)

He did mope an awful lot. But Force knows he had more reason to than most, and I really shouldn’t make light of it. Carth was one of the Republic's best pilots and staunchest soldiers. Malak and Revan’s betrayal of the Republic shattered his world in an irreparable way. He had to watch powerless as trusted friends and comrades-in-arms turned to the Sith, and finally as his own esteemed commander and mentor—Admiral Saul Karath—betrayed the Republic by handing the Republic Navy’s bypass codes over to Malak.

It was truly a heartrending story. My heart ached for the poor fellow. And yet, at the same time, I flattered myself that I, of all people, could help him rise above his grief and desperation and become, perhaps, a happier cupcake. So I talked to him whenever I could. I think I may even have kissed him at one point, scratchy stubble notwithstanding.

That got my crewmates talking, of course. When I returned to the ship’s lounge afterward, Mission was whispering something in Zaalbar’s ear that was received with a big throaty Wookiee guffaw—and both of them, of course, had their eyes trained on me. Not long afterward I overheard an “observation” from HK-47 about “meatbags” and their "propensity to occupy enclosed spaces together” (it was just the cockpit, for crying out loud!). And then Nastila—I mean Bastila—

But never mind her. Never mind any of them. I was off to a good start with my sad-eyed soldier, and I wasn’t about to let anyone else stop me. Our chats continued, and if they included the occasional peck or smooch, well, fine.

And then, one day . . . he brought up his wife.

To be continued . . .

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Spoiler: Notes

Don’t worry—neither I nor this fic condone adultery! Yes, Carth’s wife exists, but [hl=black]she’s dead by the time of KOTOR. More on that soon[/hl].

100% of credit for the expression “tragic cupcake” goes to JCF user Trip, who described Carth Onasi that way in the JCF Lit IRC chat a few years back. It is pretty much the perfect description of the character, so thank you, Trip! (And whaddaya know, cupcakes do in fact exist in the GFFA.)

“I’m all ears, beautiful” is indeed one of the first things Carth says in the game to the female player character. And then not long after that he talks about how he doesn’t trust anyone but doesn’t want to talk about it (the reason, of course, being the betrayal, etc., etc.). Go figure. I get the feeling romantic comedy wasn't Drew Karpyshyn's forte either.

And finally some Wook entries, including character names, since this is an unfamiliar era to many:
Bastila Shan: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Bastila
groat: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Groat
HK-47: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/HK-47
Malak: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Darth_Malak
Mission Vao: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mission_Vao
mooka: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mooka (Hat tip to Kurisan for introducing me to these. The use of “pup” for their young is just my own extrapolation.)
Saul Karath: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Saul_Karath
Zaalbar: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Zaalbar

 

Thanks to all who read and reviewed. Given what a relatively little-known era of the SW universe this is, it's doubly appreciated.

Thanks so much for taking a chance on this, Kuri! I'm so glad you're enjoying this little story. And the mooka was just the perfect thing, so many thanks for that, too!

Yep, she's back! And I'll say that the image of the masked, Sithy version of Revan doing those things in front of Malak to try to get him to laugh is... a very unique one indeed. Probably one of many reasons she eventually decided the Dark Side was not for her.

Yes, indeed, this Revan is truly an Awesome Cat who can dazzle the heck out of sad-mooka-pup pilots when she wants to. Who knows but that may perhaps have been her original reason for joining the Sith—there, she had the opportunity to dazzle and overwhelm everybody. But, as you rightly point out, that is in no way mutually exclusive with her being an essentially good-hearted sort. Once Mr. Mooka is appropriately dazzled, that's when she'll start showing her tenderer, cuddlier self where she rolls over and lets him rub her belly. Of course, at that point, he might be too stunned of a mooka to even react much!

It shall, perhaps, slow things down, but definitely not stop them. You shall see...

Hah, thanks! Again, I simply couldn't help myself there.

Uh-huh. I'm actually pretty proud of myself for that one.

Thanks, but does this mean I've lost you from The Book of Gand, then?

Yep, that it is. And I think Katts/Revan would not take well to such advances being made on her cupcake.

Oh, not in the least! Indeed, I'd go as far to classify that not just as a humble brag, but as a plain old brag. It's not that long ago, after all, that she used to be an evil Sithy despot.

Whining—a time-honored Jedi tradition since 3958 BBY! And I guess it goes to show how contagious it can be—kind of like laughter that way (!). But I suspect that at least on Katts/Revan's part, it's not really sad, discontented whining—indeed, I think she's rather reveling in the cupcakiness of it all. (And of course whether that's really the best response to Carth's very real discontent is open to debate—but hey, this is romcom. )

Well, let us see how far the next installment meets those expectations. But I'm glad to hear that I got the romcom aspect of things off to an OK start, since it's a very new genre for me. Thanks!

Why, thank you! When the romcom challenge came along, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring her back.

Oh, I think this one did. I have to admit, when I first became acquainted with KOTOR, I found Carth rather annoying and overly mopey and was disappointed that Canderous wasn't a romance option too (maybe that'll be a different story, who knows). I think it was mainly that the five-o'-clock shadow look is usually not my thing. But I have to say, he's grown on me a lot in the course of researching this story. His tragic cupcake nature can have its annoying moments, sure, but it has some very sweet ones too.

Wouldn't you know... there is indeed a verse in the Song of Solomon that reads, "Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that trail down from Gilead" (6:5). There's also "The mountains skipped like rams, the hills like young sheep" in Psalm 114:4 (113:4 in the Vulgate numbering), so the image is kind of a mashup of those two, I suppose. And it shows that this former Sith Lord has a poetic side!

And but of course Carth uses hair gel. Very carefully and judiciously. The kind of hair depicted on his sprite is just simply not possible without it.

There I just simply couldn't help myself! She took a long time for me to warm up to, too.

Oh, you soon shall, you soon shall! Thanks again.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Anedon! Yes, my "first contact" with KOTOR was also with the female protagonist, and that was the version of the story that sunk into my head. Plus, I really like the idea of the talented, charismatic, villain-turned-prodigal Messiah-type character being female for a change. (And the game absolutely rocks the Bechdel test if you play as a female!)

I think one would almost have to be made of marble not to feel sorry for Carth, with all he's been through—between his commander's betrayal and the loss of his wife and son, it's really an overwhelming series of emotional traumas. That also means that "helping him rise above his grief" may be a more difficult task than Revan anticipated...

And I'm glad you liked that little attempt at HK humor. This is my first time writing him, so it's all kind of a big experiment!

Thank you all once again, and stay tuned for the second chapter, which is right around the corner.

 

Two

Oh yes, Carth had a wife.

Morgana was her name. And I got to hear all about her smile (“lopsided and toothy”), her laugh (“high-pitched and giggly”), the smell of her hair (“there was this beebleberry-green-tea shampoo she liked to use”), and the last argument they had (“I think it was about the ’fresher seat”).

I also got to hear about her last days in the Galaxy.

If the story of Admiral Karath’s betrayal was heartrending, Morgana’s story was even more so. She was killed when Malak ordered Karath to bomb the Onasis’ homeworld of Telos IV. Carth had been deployed at the time (which Morgana had not been happy about, but that’s another story). His task force was called to Telos after the bombardment, but they arrived too late: by then she was gravely injured, and their son, Dustil, was nowhere to be found. (Yes, it turns out they had a son, too . . . it never rains but it pours, doesn’t it?)

Anyhow, Morgana was bloody and broken and near death as Carth held her in his arms and screamed for the medics. No medics came. She died in his embrace.

Now, how could such an experience not be burned into the man’s memory forever? How could any being in this Galaxy live through such hell and not emerge from it a sadder, gloomier, more melancholy cupcake? I confess that I could almost see the scene as he described it—was I sharing his memories the way I had shared Bastila’s dream about Revan and Malak? Who knew.

But one thing was for sure: the man was still grieving for his wife, and he was not likely to stop any time soon. And knowing that changed everything about how I related to him.

It’s not that I was jealous of this Morgana person. Okay, well, maybe a little, since she was awfully lucky to have had this cupcake for her very own. It was more that I began to despair of ever being able to help him rise above his grief, or whatever it was I said I had hoped to do. Losing your military commander is one thing—but losing your spouse, and possibly your child, too, is another entirely. I could fill the former void at least partly, just by being captain of the Ebon Hawk and the leader-type-person of whatever expedition we were on (and I confess that in those days I wasn’t entirely sure). But the latter? No way. I felt it would be presumptuous for me to even try.

So I thought it prudent to back off. Sure, we would continue to fight and quest side by side as faithful comrades. And of course I would listen if he ever wanted to talk, because that’s what I would do for any of my crewmates. But there would be no more tête-à-têtes in the cockpit. It would be a wrench, but it had to be done.

And then . . .

* * *

What happened next I should have seen coming. One day, after I had returned to the Hawk from a particularly grueling excursion over the sands of Tatooine with my two most particularly grueling colleagues (you can guess who they are . . . one has a fancy hairdo, one’s a droid), I caught a brief conversation between Carth and Mission in the lounge. “Hey, Mission,” Carth was saying. “Do you happen to have any spare computer spikes?”

“Yeah, sure. How many do you need?”

“Just—just a couple.”

“Sure, here you go.” She gave him a few from the pocket of her vest. “What for?”

“Oh, uh, just . . . the comm panel in my quarters has been, um, fritzing.”

“Really? What’s it doing? If you want I can come take a look.” (And she certainly could have. That girl was a whiz with any kind of technology.)

“No—no no no—it’s all right, I-I-I think I can manage—b-but thanks, Mission.”

“No problem.”

I thought nothing of it at the time, of course. The Hawk was by no means a new ship, and its communications systems did indeed have the occasional tendency to, as he said, “fritz.” But when he asked Mission for another computer spike the next day, and then another that afternoon—that’s when I began to wonder. And when I heard furious astromech-droid bleeping from behind his door, interspersed with exclamations like “No, T3, that’s not it!”—that’s when I really started to suspect something.

Was Cmdr. Carth “Sad Mooka Pup” Onasi, of all people, trying to slice into the ship’s communications system? And why?

I found out one fateful, torrid Tatooine afternoon, after coming back from that dreadful business with the GenoHaradan (remind me never again to agree to anything that requires me to go alone out to the Dune Sea). The others were all clustered around the closed door to Carth’s quarters, whispering to each other: “What’s he doing?,” “How should I know,” “Do you think she knows?,” “No idea,” “GRRRAHRRR,” and so forth. All the while, a blurred hodgepodge of static, electrical crackles, and indistinct speech-like noises was emanating from behind the door.

I came closer. The strange sounds behind the door increased in loudness and intensity with each passing second, as did the murmurs of my colleagues. It was when I heard “Prediction: The master is going to be most displeased” that I decided to speak up.

“All right, HK. Better tell me what I’m going to be ‘most displeased’ about.”

“Apology: Master, I should not have been so presumptuous. Given the near-impossibility of correlating meatbag emotional reactions with any degree of certainty—”

“Yes, yes, yes, fine. What’s going on here?”

“Repsonse: Master, we are concerned about Commander Onasi’s recent behavior. He has not emerged from this room since you left for the Dune Sea. Rumor: he may be attempting to slice into the ship’s communications system.”

Well, tell me something I didn’t already know, I almost said. But I didn’t. “Any idea why?”

“Hypothesis: We believe he may be trying to retrieve a comm frequency from the restricted section of the memory banks. To what end, however—”

“YOU GUYS! LISTEN!” Mission’s shrill voice cut in. “HE’S GOT SOMETHING!”

We all fell silent and listened. Behind the door, a steady, high-pitched beeeeeep now pierced the static and crackling. There was a cry of “Great job, T3! You did it!” Then the beep gave way to static, and then to a voice—a gruff, older human male voice that uttered a curt “’Myello?”

“Uh, yes, hello . . .” Carth began. “Is this Mr., uh, Stanislauff, uh, Err-zeeww . . . anks . . . kowski?”

And then I froze in sheer horror, for it dawned on me exactly what this tragic cupcake was doing.

He was comming my dad.

To be continued . . .

Spoiler: Notes

Morgana Onasi (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Morgana_Onasi) is, in fact, Carth’s wife, and the story of her death is officially established. Her name is not mentioned in the game (it first appears in one of the later guidebooks), even though Dustil’s (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dustil_Onasi) is, which I always found a bit odd. Carth does mention recalling her laugh, her smile, the smell of her hair, and their last fight in the course of the game dialogue, though the details given here are purely my own.

The beebleberry (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Beebleberry) is canonical, though I first learned about it from my esteemed fellow fanfic writer Raissa Baiard.

Mission Vao is indeed one of the Ebon Hawk’s foremost tech whizzes, adept at slicing into computers, picking locks, disabling mines, and suchlike.

The GenoHaradan (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/GenoHaradan) side quest in KOTOR involves this sort of secret society of bounty hunters and assassins who manipulate Galactic events by, well, the usual bounty-hunter- and assassin-type means. Whenever the player character talks to any of the representatives of the organization, she must do so alone, without any companions accompanying her, and the side quest does indeed involve at least one showdown in Tatooine’s Dune Sea.

I’m only guessing here about Carth’s rank of lieutenant, based on the Wook’s statement that he was promoted to that rank in 3964 BBY. That was before the events of KOTOR (which is something like 3958 BBY), though, so I’m not sure if there was another promotion in the meantime. EDIT: Apparently so—I have since learned that one of the KOTOR RPG guides gives his rank at the start of the game as commander (see this post—thanks, whiskers !)

And what of the character Carth is coming? He is an OC who was first introduced in my short story “Just Ask Dad; or, Talking Things Through on Taris.” For now that is all I shall say about him.

Anything else you would like me to add a note about? Just say the word.

 

Thanks you both, as always, for reading and for the thoughtful comments, as well as just generally for keeping on with this story!

Oh yes, the one, the only... he's back! And he can solve anything. And who knows but his wit and wisdom might be just exactly what these two need to come to an understanding. Katts may be part of the way there, as you point out, but definitely not all the way yet—and ditto for Cmdr. Cupcake, too.

Agreed.

Your confidence in me is heartwarming, and I certainly shall try my best. I don't intend for things to come up as totally solved by the end of this story, though maybe at least temporarily; indeed the actual full-on declaration of love between these two doesn't come till much later in the game anyway. And poor mooka-eyed Carth is going to need time to recover, for sure.

Seconded.

One of the questions of course is: is it because she just can't help herself, or because she's once againdeploying her tenderness toward Carth in very controlled amounts, very strategically, to suit her own purposes? I think the answer is yes. But, as you see by the end of the chapter, a little bit of a wrench may get thrown in things...

Oh, he's a total kriffslider. Absolutely. But it's almost mitigated by how hilarious he is. Almost. And coming up with his "meatbag talk" was rather fun.

ABSOLUTELY!

Yep, Katts is just a leeeetle too stoical about this, isn't she? Once again, it seems to be all about the very strategic and painstaking deployment of tenderness—she'll no doubt dial it back up when what she considers the right moment comes at last, but only then. But that doesn't mean at all that there's not some genuine jealousy and insecurity in the picture, too, as you note below.

Carth has no idea at this point what he's in for. From "Just Ask Dad" he may have a vague idea that Stann is Katts's dad and someone she goes to for advice, and thus he'd draw the conclusion that this is someone who could, in turn, give him good advice about Katts. But he'll get much more than he bargained for, for sure! And yes, at this point he is totally in the dark about who and what Katts really is... but I can imagine that...

Spoiler

...this hard-to-pronounce name with an R, an E, a W, an A, and an N is one of the things that will come crashing back into his memory during that fateful, revelatory showdown with Saul Karath. (And hey, that could be an interesting story!)

And I have to say I was always partial to Mission. For one thing, I thought it was cool that they made one of the tech whiz characters a girl. For another, it was nice to see a Twi'lek woman who was not just intended to be eye candy (and Hera is continuing admirably in that tradition too).

I think the answer to that, too, is "yes." As far as I know, there's only one image of Morgana, in the KOTOR handbook, which shows her with this sort of ditzy toothy smile, and I kind of extrapolated (fairly or unfairly?) from there. But there is clearly some only-thinly-veiled jealousy on Katts's part. Awesome Cats don't take well to not being number one, however one interprets that. Will love conquer all the difficulties? We'll see, but it may at least lighten a few of them, just as a start.

Yep, that's always the thing that I found a bit odd about games like this where you have all these companions with you on your ship or at your headquarters or whatever, and then trying to conduct a romance on top of that—or even just trying to do anything where you don't want someone rubbernecking over your shoulder (like slicing into the comm system). Word is going to get around, without fail.

You soon shall see! Well, I'll certainly do my best to make sure it's soon. RL life has me in a pretty tight grip these days, but I promise at least the final chapter is almost done!

Thank you both once again, and I'm glad you're continuing to enjoy.

 

Thanks so much for reading and commenting, you two!

Well, shucks, I'm blushing now. Thanks so much, Onderon1—I appreciate your being here and taking a chance on this rather zany interpretation of KOTOR!

Oh, definitely. One doesn't need the deductive powers of Sherlock Holmes to discern that her feelings for him are still there—she just thinks she's being all selfless and noble by putting them on hold, but as noted above, they come out with each "cupcake." Now, to be fair, he doesn't go on about Morgana quite this long in the actual game—I'm just sort of extrapolating and doing a "what could have been," and honestly I could understand Revan being mildly miffed with even the very little that he does say about Morgana in the game. But yes, I think it's mainly being done mostly out of cluelessness, and she's not totally keyed in to his feelings here, either. At least it's a mostly benign kind of cluelessness that could be easily resolved should they just decide to talk things out.

Ah, the poor devil has no idea of the Pandora's box he's about to open! You shall see more on that very soon.

Thanks! I'm glad it came off convincingly, because, again, this is my first time trying to write HK. That kind of snark isn't always the sort of thing that comes easiest to me, so I'm relieved that it worked. (And what is a "tech-priest," exactly? The thouht of another being out there in the fanworld with a speech pattern like HK's is... intriguing! )

Thanks a bunch! It'll be on its way very soon.

 

Three

“Yup, Stanislauff Rzewanczkowski here,” came the familiar, gruff voice over the comm speaker on the other side of the door. “What can I do for ya?”

Carth cleared his throat. “Well, Mr. Revan-chowski . . .”

“Rzewanczkowski.”

“Mr. Rzhev-ahnch—”

“Aw, forget it, just call me Stann. An’ y’know what, young fella, when you comm someone, it’s considered good form to tell ’em who you are.”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” stammered Carth. Even from behind the door he sounded more than a little nonplussed. And who wouldn’t be? My father tended to have that effect on people. “Well, I’m—I’m Cmdr. Carth Onasi, Republic Navy, formerly pilot of the Endar Spire, and I wanted to ask—”

“Republic Navy? Endar Spire?! Now just waaaaait a minute . . . don’t tell me you’re that soldierboy who’s taken up with my daughter!”

Just then a few different things happened at once. A sort of gulping whimper—or a whimpering gulp, one of those two—was heard from within the room. Mission and Juhani giggled. Zaalbar guffawed. As for me, I sighed and grumbled something like “Oh, for Sith’s sake, Dad!” Bastila looked at me for a moment but decided (thankfully) that I hadn’t said anything after all.

“Well, Mr. Rzhev—I mean Stann—I do in fact have the immense, um, privilege of knowing your daughter, and that’s precisely what I wanted to—”

“Now you look here, Cmdr. Darth Onassis.”

“C-Carth. Carth Onasi.” Poor little thing. I could almost see the sweat drops trickling down his forehead, adding a new gleam to those two gel-glistening little locks of hair.

“Onasi? Hmm. I used to know some people named Onasziszyszkiewicz. Don’t know if you’re related to ’em. But anyway. You look here, Cmdr. Carth Onasi. If you’re lookin’ to woo my li’l Kattsie”—and I know I “DAD!”-ed at this point for several reasons, but mainly because that’s what he used to call me when I was five, for the love of Waru—“you gotta know that she’s not just any girl.”

“Oh, believe me, Mr.—Stann. I—I—I know that well. Sh-she has saved my life more times than I can count and she is absolutely one of the most remarkable beings I have ever come across in my whole, entire—”

“She said you needed to shave.”

“Ah. Yes. So I do, so I do.” Force bless the man. He was the personification of grace under fire. “At some point I was going to head over to the market in Anchorhead and pick up some shaving soap, but—”

“Shavin’ soap? So, you got fancy tastes, eh? Hmph. Back when I was workin’ on the factory floor at Aratech I was lucky if I could use my overtime pay to pick up a can o’ BarbaShave. If you think you can impress my daughter with hoity-toity stuff like shavin soap—”

“No—no—no no no of course not that’s not it at all—”

“—then you’re kshhhin’ up the wrong tree. She doesn’t give a womp rat’s rear end for fancy pudu like that. Nope. What you gotta do is show her that you’re the real thing. You gotta open up to her. Talk to her. About what you’re feelin’. About what she’s feelin’.”

“Well, that’s just what I, uh, wanted to ask you about.” Carth exhaled with relief at finally being able to get a word in edgewise. “She’s not letting me. I ask her what’s on her mind, she just says, ‘never mind.’ We used to chat all the time between missions, but now she’s just . . . ignoring me.”

“‘Chat all the time between missions,’ eh? What about? Hyperspace corridors? Navigational readouts? The weather?”

“Oh, this and that. The war, the Sith, Malak, Revan . . . but . . . you see, I think I got her jealous. I shouldn’t have talked so much about my wife—my late wife, that is,” he hastened to add.

What I haven’t mentioned is that my assembled colleagues had been listening to this entire conversation in rapt silence. At this piece of information from Carth, a new burst of gasps, growls, and murmurs arose. I felt my own unease increasing. Was that accursed cupcake of a soldierboy really going to start blabbing all about our private conversations to my dad?

“Okeeday, then, Cmdr. Snazzy.”

“Onasi.”

“Oh, right, Onasi. First, my condolences about your wife, an’ I mean that. I know jus’ what that kind of loss is like, an’ I can’t think of anythin’ that hurts more.” (He was talking about my mom’s death in my teens, of course, and I found it hard to hold back a tear just hearing him mention it.) “But about Katts—here’s the thing you need to know about ’er. She absolutely positively hates being number two. At anything. You want to win her back? Then you gotta let her know, without the teeny-tiniest smidgen of a doubt, that she’s number one to ya now.”

“I know, Stann, I know,” Carth sighed, his voice nearly wavering. “It’s just going to be . . . hard to do that until I get revenge on the people who . . .

“Well, I sure understand, though y’know what they say about revenge an’ anger an’ the dark side an’ all,” my dad continued. “But back to Katts. Back when she was in school, there was this boy in her class, Normelius Pavanthwaite, who she kinda . . . had a crush on, y’know.”

Oh no. It was bad enough that Carth had started spilling the beans about our chats. Did Dad now have to start in with his embarrassing stories about my youth—and right within earshot of all my crewmates, too? A few giggles were already percolating through the group. I fumbled in my pocket for my override keycard, suspecting it would soon be needed . . .

“But here’s the problem. This Pavanthwaite kid wouldn’t shut up about the girl he’d just broken up with. Well one day he was goin’ on and on about it to Katts, an’ she just got sickantired of it all, an’ raised her hand an’—”

That did it. I slammed the override keycard into the door slot. The metal door whizzed open to reveal Carth sitting there at the comm panel, gripping the arms of the chair in something close to shock, with T3 plugged into a scomp link nearby. As I entered, Carth spun around and sprang from his chair, gasping a barely audible “Katts!”

“T3, back to your station, please.” He rolled off, and I addressed the room’s remaining two inmates in icy tones. “Hello, Carth. Hello, Dad.”

“K-Katts . . .” Carth gasped again. “Y-you . . . h-heard all that?”

Poor little cupcake, he was near tears. But I was going to let him have it all the same.

“Why yes.” I crossed my arms. “As a matter of fact, I did hear you gabbing on about our private conversations to my father. And you, Dad.” I extended an admonitory finger toward the holographic image. “How many times have we talked about this? It’s bad enough that you never miss a chance to remind me of all my bizarre teenage shenanigans. Can you please not do it with other people too?!”

Carth lowered his face and shuffled his feet like an indecisive bantha calf. Then the hologram spoke up.

“Aw, c’mon now, princess. You’re bein’ too hard on the fella. He meant no harm.” He paused for a moment, and his voice softened. “He’s mighty fond of ya, y’know. An’ who can blame him?”

I turned to Carth and glowered. Or at least I tried to, because what I saw when turned in his direction melted all my resolve to glower, glare, or anything of that kind. He was fidgeting with his hands, his lower lip was quivering like a hypothermic Blob, and I could have sworn I saw a tear—yes, a real, actual tear!—trickle down his nose and disappear into his shadow of a beard.

He looked so pathetic and vulnerable standing there, and so entirely like a scared, homeless mooka pup, that I simply hadn’t the heart to unleash the screed I had been working up in my mind. Instead I placed a hand on his arm and said, “You OK?”

“Yes, I think I’ll be fine.” He heaved a sigh that was halfway between a sigh and a sob. “You must think I’m incredibly stupid.”

I smiled. “Not at all. I just think you’re outnumbered by Rzewanczkowskis.”

The hologram of Dad smiled proudly. And, after a moment or so, Carth cracked a smile too. He and I looked at each other. I took in his impeccably gelled hair, the two stray locks, the shadowy, slightly-more-than-1700-hours beard that adorned the lower half of his face. I took in those deep, warm brown eyes, gazing at me so steadily, so trustingly. I took in those strong, broad shoulders that had interposed themselves so many times between me and danger. All was silent around us.

And then Dad’s husky voice cut through everything like a vibrosaw.

“So what are you two waitin’ for, anyway? KISS, ALREADY!”

“Oh, DAAAAD! For the love of—fine!”

So Carth and I kissed. Just lightly, just gently, because I didn’t want it to be too much of a shock to the poor darling. Plus, of course, he was still scratchy. But at least there was the future prospect of sweet-smelling shaving soap.

The barrage of cheers and claps from the doorway (along with one stray “Get a room, will ya?” from Mission) reminded me that my crewmates were still observing the scene, so we disengaged. “Now, how about I let you recover for a bit?” I said.

“Yes.” He sank back into the chair. “I think that would be a good idea.”

“All right, you do that. See ya later, cupcake.”

“Cupcake? Morgana used to call me that.”

I stuck out my tongue, gave his two stray locks a playful flick with my hand, and left the room.

The End

Spoiler: Notes

Stanislauff Rzewanczkowski: Once again the reader is referred to “Just Ask Dad; or, Talking Things Through on Taris.” The pronunciation is explained in the notes following, and you’ll see a mention of the name Onasziszyszkiewicz too.

BarbaShave: Fanon. An obvious and not very clever portmanteau of Barbasol and Burma-Shave.

kshhh: The sound made by mookas (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mooka).

“like an indecisive bantha calf”: A totally random simile. I have no idea whether indecision is typical to juvenile banthas or not.

Normelius Pavanthwaite is an OC and totally unimportant.

Wookieepedia links:
Aratech: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Aratech_Repulsor_Company/Legends
Blob (yes, this turns out to be a bona fide GFFA species name): http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Blobs
Waru: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Waru

 

Thank you all for your comments!

Oh yeah, Carth had zero idea what he was letting himself in for with this one little comm call. Fortunately Stann and Katts both are good-natured types at the end of the day, and can eventuallybe counted on to show a little human feeling—the operative word being eventually.

Yep, that's the idea—[hl=black]little does he realize how close he was to the truth[/hl]!

Thanks! The Revan one is of course at the heart of that choice of name, and the Onassis one especially I just couldn't resist, because the name "Onasi" always seemed almost too close for comfort to "Onassis," and Iwonder if that too wasn't some sort of D'Fraudian slip on the part of the game writers.

Well, both being Rzewanczkowskis and all, their minds do seem to work in similar ways, it's true. Though I have to admit that part of it was just that the mooka entry in Wookieepedia actually gave an example of the sound made by that beast, which not all of them do, and it was different enough from a terrestrial bark or meow to add a little GFFA flavor.

As to the highlighted bit... well, we know that Katts [hl=black]had to get her Force-sensitivity from somewhere, and that would be a likely place[/hl]!

I guess he could have, though his background and education may contribute to his not necessarily being the punning type, at least not intentionally.

Ah ha! Now that's an angle on it I hadn't thought about before, though you absolutely earn a cookiee to you for picking up on that touch! What could those two families be telling each other about these scions of theirs? (Well, in Katts's case, probably more stories of times she [hl=black]went all Sith[/hl] as a teen.

The point is, too, that he is sure that any daughter of his, growing up with the background he gave her, isn't going to be impressed by anything interpretable as effete or namby-pamby—he knows that she wants the real, straight-up, sho'-nuff thing, right? But, as you see further down, she does make favorable mention of the prospect of shaving soap. Those scratchy kisses will smell extra nice that way.

I imagine much of it is just that they, too, are absolutely bowled over by the sheer magnitude of the wisdom that is STANN!

I believe you, and I certainly agree too! It's kind of one of those human universals, in a way.

Oh, she's never lacked for courage. And it helps that, unlike Carth, she has had lifelong practice in standing up to other Rzewanczkowskis. And she knew she could count on T3 to be a cooperative bee-woop, which he certainly is—it's not him she's really mad at, of course. "Sheesh, get a room!" is actually text uttered by Misssion much later in the game, when the two declare their love for each other on the beach of Lehon (and as I recall the game doesn't actually show them kissing or anything—it's just "I love you" and "I love you, too," though of course there are any number of mods that show the kiss.)

And of course between the two locks and the beard, you have probably noticed that I have been taking every possible chance to rag on Carth's character design. He always looked to me like he should be modeling glorified flannel shirts in the L. L. Bean Signature Collection. (Image-search "ll bean signature male model" and you'll see the kind of thing I mean.)

Exactly the idea. Carthy Cupcake has a lot to learn, doesn't he?

Ah ha, cool connection there! Again, I hadn't thought about it from that angle, but it totally works. This is why I love my readers so much.

You are most welcome. So glad it was a day-brightener for you. Hey, maybe this whole romcom thing is not beyond my reach after all!

Hah! I'm afraid I can't be much help given that the amount of HTML and CSS that I know (more like used to know) could probably fit on an index card, though Stann might know enough to fit on, say, a sheet of A4 paper, and that might just do the trick. But you'll have to hack into the Ebon Hawk comm system to get his contact info (though a seasoned tech maven like you would probably find that a piece of… cupcake). Anyway, I'm thrilled to hear you're off to a good start with the game, and I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Ah ha! I see what you did there, ma’am!

But of course she knows, dahling! She’s the Awesome Cat, after all! And though you may be able to [hl=black]take the girl out of the scary dark robes and mask[/hl], you can’t always [hl=black]take the Sith out of the girl[/hl]. She’s used to running things, and anyone standing in her way just has to deal.

Oh indeed, they are cut from exactly the same cloth. And Awesome Cat naturally knows best. This isn’t just any Awesome Cat after all—this is an Awesome Cat who is pretty darn certain she’s someday going to save the known galaxy.

Yes, that’s pretty much what I was thinking of here. These same well-intentioned Awesome Cat tendencies we’re laughing about in this romcom situation are, in their darker and more problematic forms, the ones that [hl=black]probably contributed to her fall to the Sith in the first place[/hl].It’s a delicate balance and a fine line, though in a way those intentions can count for a lot.

It does, eminently. And I can’t think of a GFFA character whom it fits better!

And indeed that’s only the first, and the mildest, of the defeats! In real life I too have a long and hard-to-pronounce last name that trips people up constantly (I dread being asked, “What’s your last name?” over the phone), and I’m sublimating some of those experiences into both these characters’ struggles with each other’s names. Besides, why not add a little spice to this universe of Lama Sus and Han Solos and Jyn Ersos and Plo Koons?

Like I said, the poor cupcake of a man had absolutely zero idea. He just thought he was going to ask for some advice… which he got, but along with more than he ever bargained for.

After all, he didn’t get to be one of the Republic’s best soldiers and pilots by being a total wimp. But he’s used to a totally different kind of onslaught, of course.

Thanks! That was just another one I simply couldn’t help. And again, it was a chance to rag on the character’s look and design, and how could I resist that?

Indubitably! The man doesn’t mince his words. None of that fancy-schmancy beatin’ around the bush for him, no sirreee.

Hah! “Emotionally constipated” is such a good description of so many characters in the more serious portions of the GFFA. As humorous and as exaggerated as he admittedly is, Stann may just be on to a few things here and there! There’s definitely a reason Katts keeps calling him for advice.

This is indeed where I thought I’d interject a note of seriousness into this otherwise humorous tale, and it seemed too like a good opportunity to say a thing or two about Katts’s mother, since I figured folks might be wondering about her (and it’s an incentive for me to come up with more background on her, too). Plus, it’s classic Stann to make these sudden-yet-smooth transitions from the sublime to the ridiculous in the service of giving advice! For him they’re by no means mutually exclusive.

And indeed, if Katts did have occasion to “raise her hand” in the general direction of Normelius Pavanthwaite (in order to do what, you can probably guess), you can bet your beebleberries he deserved it.

He really did get quite the double dose, didn’t he?

Hee hee! I have Raissa Baiard to thank for this, since when I first mentioned the idea for this story to her that was one piece of advice she immediately imagined Stann giving to these too. And it was perfect, so in it went! (Incidentally, see also the post after this. )

Aw, thank you so much. There too, it was pretty much impossible to resist the urge to come full circle, as it were—and not only to the title and the “cupcake” epithet but also Carth’s own issues!


Thank you all so much, once again, for reading and commenting, and do watch this space for a little bit of an announcement…

 

This is where I announce that "The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake," as well as being my entry in the recent OTP Romcom in Space challenge, is also...

...the long, long, long, LOOOOOOOONG-overdue 2016 Fanfic Awards prize-fic* that I have owed since May or so to my good pal and fantastic fellow fanficcer Raissa Baiard.

I didn't want to say so at first because it wouldn't have been fair, given that the Romcom challenge was votable, and I didn't want to influence the voting. But now that the voting for that challenge has passed, all can be revealed. Raissa, this story is for you, with all my good wishes and congratulations for your 2016 awards wins, and with my sincerest thanks for your friendship and support over this last year. Here's looking at you, ma'am!

*(Please note that this is a separate thing from the December gift-fics that recently started—and that I am aware of the current OTP challenge's rules about not combining the challenge with the December gifts.

 

YAAAAY CUPCAKES! Well, you are most welcome. I'm glad it was a daymaker, and it was immense fun for me too to revisit these characters and the wacky world of KOTOR.

Awww, now, the two of them getting dressed up fancy would definitely be fun to write! Though I still have to find a way to work in the L. L. Bean plaid flannel shirt idea.

Those scare quotes in "friends" are right on! But hey, it was their loss in not getting on the better side of our Awesome Cat. As for Bastila, with her parents being "treasure hunters," it always seemed to me that one had to have a certain kind of leisure to lead that kind of lifestyle. The Rzewanczkowskis couldn't afford to traipse all over the galaxy in search of random knick-knacks. As I see it, they had to earn their living by the actual sweat of their actual brows, on factory floors and such.

Thanks so much! I felt that Raphael Sbarge did a fantastic job voicing Carth—so much of what gets his characterization across is in the voice, how he goes from outraged to mopey to angsty to flirty to teasy and back again. Is it odd to say that I almost wish that the game had managed to get him actually to the point of tears?

Shows how far she's coming in returning to the light, etc.! But yes, Stann hasn't quite gotten the memo that his baby girl is now, like, 37 or 38 or so. To be fair, though, Stann doesn't yet know at that point that the whole Ebon Hawk crew is listening outside the door.

It was absolutely spot-on for both the character and the situation! And it turned out to work perfectly for how the conversation turned out—awkward silence, quivering lower lip, etc. It was just what the scene needed. So thank you again!

Again, you're very, very welcome—anytime, anytime at all. You are someone I am very glad to know and to count as a friend.

 

Just wanted to say a quick but heartfelt "thank you" to the readers who nominated this story for the 2017 Fanfic Awards in three categories: Best Story in Before, Best Interpretation of a Game Character (for Revan/Katts), and—and this one was totally unexpected but a wonderful surprise all the same—Best Romance! Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking a chance on this funny little KOTOR AU of mine and on my quirky interpretation of Revan. You're a wonderful bunch and I'm glad to have you all!