She would never get used to the emptiness of space. The cold, lifeless darkness, seemingly indifferent to the worries of the galaxy made everything, from the scorched dunes of Tatooine to the sterile wastes of Korriban, seem homely. She and her companion were weeks into their journey back to the core worlds, going in agonizingly slow, elaborate patterns of hyperspace travel to make sure they weren't followed.
She yawned and threw a glance over her right shoulder. Her companion was asleep, looking almost disturbingly peaceful in the second pilot's chair. A thin smile graced her lips, and she returned to planning their next hyperspace route.
Shalea Kall, also known as Revan, was a pale, slender woman in her mid thirties. With her long brown hair, wiry gymnast's body and high cheekbones she still maintained a youthful, almost royal kind of beauty. But the many years of fighting, travelling and distress had left their marks on her, her face lined with signs of constant worry and fatigue, and her beautiful features blemished by the scar tissue around her left eye, now a milky gray. It was a stark contrast to her right, which still had the warm, blue color of her birth.
She brushed the hair out of her eyes and gave her companion a gentle nudge.
"Time to move, prepare the navi-computer if you please" she said, her voice rasping, almost metallic from disuse. Not many words were said during the long hours on the small freighter, the two communicating mainly through the force and simple gestures.
The man in second pilot's chair was large, close to six feet four and well over two hundred pounds. His size, combined with his black hair and thick stubble gave him a menacing, almost brutish look. His dark brown eyes however were warm and he had a smile that could relax even the most hysterical and frightened people. Shallag Charon, also known as the Jedi Exile, yawned and turned his focus to the instrument panel.
"About time we're starting our approach to the core worlds now, this zigzag travelling is getting tedious" he said, his deep voice just as throaty as his companion's.
"You're the one who suggested it, remember?" Shalea said a faint smile on her lips.
"And for the love of my life I can't remember why" the man replied even though they both knew the reason why. Their escape from the Sith empire had been chaotic at best, with a small armada focusing on capturing the small freighter they had stolen from the Sith Emperor's own hangar. Only luck, the fact that the Emperor was temporarily out of commission due to Shallag's timely intervention, and Shalea's near suicidal piloting had allowed them to escape with their lives.
Shalea shuddered as she remembered how she had been struck by the Emperor's steel clad fist, the pain and sickening feeling of her left eye starting to fade. She recalled how the Emperor had stood over her, his crimson blade ready to strike. She could still feel the anguish of realizing that she had failed, not only herself but the republic, her friends, her love… and then the shock mixed with almost childish joy when the Emperor collapsed like a sack of groceries, having been struck in the head by Shallag, who had managed to sneak up behind him with a large rock in his hand, his lightsaber having been lost in a previous confrontation.
Shalea had no idea how Shallag had managed to find her, so far beyond the outer rim and deep inside a heavily fortified castle, but she couldn't bring herself to care. All she knew was that he had found her, saved her life and helped her escape. She threw a quick glance at the man. She knew of his previous relationship with Atris, the Jedi historian. She also knew of his ability to form bonds, meaning he had probably left a large number of people he cared about behind to go and look for her. She didn't know what had become of the Jedi historian, but if she was still at Coruscant and if she still acted the way she had prior to the civil war, Shalea would have a very serious talk with the Echani woman.
Shallag quickly entered the coordinates for Coruscant, calculating the shortest possible route and started the countdown to hyperdrive ignition. He had grown increasingly restless over the three weeks of jumping around in seemingly random hyperspace patterns to make sure they weren't followed. He knew it was the smart thing to do and he was not going to risk everything they had fought for simply because he felt homesick, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable.
He massaged his neck and thought back on his time searching for his long lost companion. He had never had anything to go on except his intuition, a fleeting tremor in the force that gave him a vague idea of where to look. Then he had finally found that sorry excuse for a civilization that was the Sith empire. Almost immediately after he dropped out of hyperspace he came under heavy fire. No words had been spoken, no warnings had been issued. His piloting skills were mediocre at best, so rather than trying something fancy, he went directly for the surface of the planet, the Ebon Hawk falling apart around him. He had managed to guide the old smugglers vessel into a controlled crash which had resulted in him landing in the midst of a deserted plaza. He had quickly left the scene and disappeared into an alley.
The nest three hours had been spent sneaking and occasionally fighting his way past Sith troopers and dark jedi of various skill. It had all gone well until he reached the castle. The place had been guarded exclusively by dark jedi, many of which had been very powerful.
When he finally found a path that lead to the throne room, he had been forced to his knees by a tormented scream in the force. He had immediately recognized Shalea's force signature and had struggled to get to his feet as he had been jumped by a giant of a Sith warrior who had knocked Shallag's lightsaber out of his hands and out through a window. Shallag had eventually overpowered the man by force-throwing a large canister of mining explosives at him which he then ignited with a burst of force lightning. The Sith, along with all of his armaments, had been plastered over the walls and Shallag's robes.
He had burst through the throne room doors to find Shalea lying on the floor covered in blood with the Sith Emperor himself standing over her. Shallag had grabbed a fair sized rock, snuck up behind the armor clad Sith Lord and slammed the rock into his head. The lords helmet had probably kept him alive, though he did drop down unconscious. Then they had made their way to the nearest hangar, seized a freighter and escaped. Barely.
Shallag shook his head lightly and pushed the dark memories away. Now the time had finally come to go home. He suspected Shalea had someone back in the Republic for whom she felt more than mere friendship. Just like he and Atris… He shook his head again to clear his mind. The choice to leave everything and everyone for the search to find Shalea had been hard enough, but it was leaving Atris that had hurt the most. Just as she was starting to realize that the jedi code didn't have all the answers and that love actually could work. He had to leave. He knew it had been the right thing to do, but that didn't make any less painful. He sighed and began the countdown.
"Hyperdrive ignition in five, four, three, two… "
"One…" Shalea whispered.
Next stop: Coruscant.