Hatred

I'm sitting in a cantina on some backwater Rim world, watching the HoloNet. The news is a couple standard days old, but it's the first word I've had of the Republic in months.

I wish I'd left an hour ago, when the rest of the crew did. Then I wouldn't be seeing this.

"…Revan, the Prodigal Knight, who was redeemed by the Jedi Council and is responsible for the destruction of the Star Forge and the death of Darth Malak. The Jedi Council promoted her to full Knighthood, and the Republic awarded Revan and her crew the Cross of Glory. The Council…"

I've never hated them more.

I was the good Jedi. My whole life, I was told that the purpose of the Order was to protect the Republic. So when the Republic was attacked, I followed Revan to war. And when Revan turned to the Dark Side, I walked away. I left behind her promises of power and conquest, and instead returned to the Council. I needed their help and support.

All I got was exile.

And then, three years later, they take back the Dark Lord of the Sith and program her into their savior. Into their Prodigal Knight, their great triumph over the Dark Side.

The bartender is staring at me. I look down and realize I've just crushed my glass in my hand.

"Sorry," I mutter, digging a handful of credits out of my pocket and dumping them on the bar. The money is bloodstained from the cuts on my hand, and the bartender looks disgusted as I stalk out of the cantina. I can't find it in me to care.

Revan, the Prodigal Knight.

I can't picture a smiling, triumphant hero standing before cheering crowds on Coruscant. Hell, I can barely remember the Knight who I was friends with so long ago. All I can see are her cold eyes as she ordered me to lead the ground assault on Malachor V… as she ordered me to my death.

Force, why didn't it work? Why didn't I die there?

I lean against an alley wall, suddenly trying to choke down a sob. I would have gladly chosen death over this existence. I have nothing left. Stripped of the Force, exiled from my Order, betrayed by my friends and lover— when they threw me out, they destroyed my identity. I'm nothing but a broken woman who wears the mask of a cold mercenary. But when I lie awake at night, there's only emptiness. And it's their fault. The Council and Revan…

Hatred surges up at the mere thought of her, and for the first time in my life I don't try to stop it. I'm not a Jedi, I'm a human being, and I will hate. I want to jump on the first ship I can find, go to Coruscant and expose her for what she is. Show the galaxy what Revan and the Council did to me, and utterly ruin them in the eyes of the people.

And when they're left powerless and alone, I'll destroy them. Rip them apart with my vibroblades… cut out his heart and leave it on the ground, just like he did to mine… and when I come to Revan, I'll tear out her eyes and stab her through the ears, so she has a taste of what it's like to lose the Force.

The door slams behind me so hard it splinters, and that's what finally snaps me out of it. I drop onto the narrow bed and cover my face with a shaking hand. I'm not like this. I am not evil, I am not a Sith. I am…

I am nothing.

The blinding rage fades into familiar emptiness, and for a moment I want my hatred back.

Then I lie down on my bed, close my eyes, and hope for a dreamless sleep.