SNAP!
She cringed.
It broke.
Again.
She stood, letting out a breath and running a hand through her long black hair. She blinked, wiping the frustration and oil out of her grass-green eyes.
"Well?" The man said behind her. "Can it be fixed this time?"
"Oh, it can be fixed, Captain," She wiped her hands on a cloth, growling in disgust as the white cloth blackened from the actions. "But without a few new pieces of equipment needed for it, the two plugs will keep breaking and I'll keep getting called onto the bridge in the middle of the night."
"My apologies for keeping you up," The Captain smirked dryly.
"Look, the most I can do, sir, is create a contraption that should hold it in place until we get to our destination. Then when someone gets me supplies I can permanently have it repaired." She shrugged.
"Then do it, soldier."
She shrugged, turning and making her leave.
"It will take me a moment to make the replacement." She insisted, pulling out her toolbox.
She opened the toolbox, examining the things inside. She pushed past the hammers, wrenches, and screwdrivers and pulled out a long, thin sheet of metal. The scrap in question ran from the tip of her middle finger to her wrist, and was only about two inches wide. Perfect for what she needed.
Holding the metal up to her eye, she examined it carefully. She marveled at the luster of the material; she could practically see her reflection in it. Yes, she could make out the scar lining from her right eye to the left side of her lips. The thought of how she got the scar sent a cold look flashing through her eyes.
Then she got a look at the face she'd just made and slammed the accursed piece of metal on the table in front of her. That was a guise she hadn't wanted to see. That expression didn't suit her at all. That wasn't her life anymore.
"Are you done, yet?" The Captain seemed impatient. She bustled out of the room.
"Yes, sir, here we are."
With a precision that astonished the Captain, she slid the round slice of metal around the two sockets and welded it together.
"There you are," She clasped her hands together. "Can I go to bed, now, sir?"
"Good job," The Captain congratulated her. "Yes, you may go now. Good night, soldier." She turned to leave for the last time that night. "Wait," The Captain held out a hand to her.
"What's your name?"
She looked down, slightly flinching to herself.
"I apologize. I haven't decided yet, sir."
-----
They thought her an idiot.
Surely they did, to think that her mind would not surpass such a brittle plan like the one they had conjured up for her.
She touched the glass window with the tips of her fingers. She could see into her room in the reflection. It was a simple room, really. The small cot was neatly made; there wasn't a wrinkle to speak of. The bed opposite hers remained vacant as always, yet still had the crumpled up look of life to it.
On the table beside her bed she kept her necessities. Inside the drawer lay her spare tools, incase some of them broke. On top of the desk lay her datapad, which she kept as a makeshift diary. It held all of her memories to date.
Or at least all the memories they wanted her to believe she had.
She knew better. She was not an idiot.
She was not an idiot enough to let them know she knew. No, they would haul her off and mess with her again.
At least, they'd try.
It wasn't like she was planning on doing anything. There was nothing she could do without her basic essentials. Besides, when her first plan fell through because of her backstabbing partner, she really couldn't muster up the courage or the gumption to continue what she started.
She didn't really want to do anything. She was tired of the bloodlust she had driven thousands into so she could save her Republic; to save the foundation of beliefs she'd been so delicately raised on. She wanted the violence to stop.
She wasn't an idiot; she knew the devastation she'd pressed onto people with her evildoings. It was they who couldn't grasp the double-edged sword she clung to so desperately. And when the chance came by to use her information against her, they scrambled every which way to acquire it.
She didn't need to be hounded or watched by them, which she knew they were surely doing. She wasn't going to do anything, let alone give away she knew who she was. She just wanted to sit back and allow time to run its course.
She needed rest. She needed time to think things through. She needed the opportunity to sort through the options laid before her and choose the best one for her course of action.
Because, of course, she couldn't just sit around and do nothing.
It wasn't in her character to just give up something. Especially the one thing that would decide the fate of the galaxy.
Well, there was nothing she could do about that now. She might as well think on her name. She couldn't really have people go around calling her "mechanic", and "soldier," and she definitely couldn't tolerate "hey, you," anymore.
With that thought, she fell onto her back, mussing up the perfect sheets on her cot and closed her eyes.
-----
"You're the last member of the ship still alive, get to the escape pods!" The Captain didn't sound too happy.
And why should he have been happy? His ship was going up in flames and most of crew was either killed of unaccounted for on the surface of Taris below them.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," she snarled after turning off her link to him. She was in a bit of a bad mood.
Who wouldn't be after what she just experienced? That bastard Bandon just killed her roommate. It was all she could do to act surprised at the sight of him. Now she was on her own trying to bring down three or four Sith at a time. They were grating on her nerves.
Particularly this one persistent little Sith who was exceptionally skilled at sword combat. It made her wish she still had her weapon. She would have needed the violet blaze about this time. She could practically envision it in her hands, instead of the flimsy, all-too-breakable vibroblade she had entwined between her fingers.
This Sith soldier just didn't want to die. He kept swinging his big sword at her, shouting all the while. He was the last one standing in between her and the door to the escape pods.
"Why won't you die already, damn woman!" The Sith shouted, striking a blow to her. She parried quickly, snagging the tip of her sword to his armor.
"You're toying with me, aren't you?" The Sith accused as she twirled around him and nicked him on the back of the knee.
This talkative Sith was making her angry. That was not a good thing. Throats closed up when she became angry, and this would be no different if he kept up his tirade of hurtful words.
"You bitch, Lord Malak shall destroy you all! I'm trying to give you a merciful way out! Die already!" The Sith cried.
She snapped.
She threw her vibroblade to the ground and held a tightly-clenched hand in the air. The Sith before her clutched his throat, whimpering.
"Lord Malak is a dunderhead who doesn't know the first thing about what he's doing." She walked briskly around the choking Sith, her eyes glaring. "He doesn't listen to his superiors about the real reason of things. He prefers to blow things up and ask questions later; he's lost his mind to the drivel nonsense of the Dark Side."
She dropped her hand and the Sith slipped onto the ground, gasping for breath. In a moment her foot connected to his ribs and sent him flying across the room.
"If that fool had listened to me instead of going off in his own direction, none of this would have happened, and I sure as hell wouldn't be stuck in the most devastating situation to be conscious for!" She screamed. In an instant she picked up her blade and threw it at the Sith, catching him in the chest.
Without another thought, she opened the door to the escape pods with a shaking hand, taking a deep breath.
"Good job, soldier," The Captain slapped her on the back, obviously impressed. "You and I are the last two on the ship. There's nothing to stop them from blowing this ship to bits. We've got to get off!"
"Wait," She backed up, examining his attire. He wasn't in his uniform, so he must have been asleep when the attack started, just as she had. She couldn't tell if he had a shirt on, since his bright orange jacket was zipped up all the way. The intense color of said jacket broke her concentration for a moment. "Wh—that is one ugly jacket."
The brown-haired man gave her a funny look.
"Don't tell me you stopped our escape and wasted two seconds of our lives telling me what looks good?"
"No, I just—" She cleared her throat. "How do I know you're the Captain? Prove who you are…sir." The man sighed, shrugging. He crossed his arms in a familiar stance. He trusted her, at least so much that he didn't stand in a protective stance.
"My name is Carth Onasi. I am—was—the captain of the Endar Spire. My soldier number is L-5549-Alpha."
That made sense. Alpha was the equivalent of Captain.
"Now can we please get going?" Carth backed up, pressing a button. The last escape pod chute opened. "I don't think they're going to let the ship last much longer."
She raised an eyebrow, obviously confused.
"You're not going to ask about me?" She walked toward the escape pod, laying a hand just above the hole to enter. "I could be a bad person."
"You could be Darth Revan reincarnate," Carth looked away. She paled, resting a hand on her holstered blaster. "But that's pretty impossible." She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Besides, you asked me to prove who I was. That's proof enough for me…. For now."
Good, at least he wasn't always this trusting. While a totally paranoid being could be annoying, nothing irked her more than someone so gullible as to believe everything told to them, even without using a Mind Persuasion.
"All right, then…." She placed a foot inside the escape pod, ducking her head and placing herself onto the small cramped seat placed on one side of the pod.
"So…." Carth closed the escape pod door shut and pressed a button. "Have you decided on a name, yet?"
No, she was not an idiot. She knew who she was. She was Revan, the Jedi Revan, Dark Lord Revan, take your pick. When the Leviathan blew up Revan's flagship, the Jedi thought that Revan's mind was destroyed. How wrong they were.
Yes, her mind had been badly wounded, but it was one of her overlooked characteristics that she healed quickly, both in physical strength and mental. When they programmed her with a new identity, she subconsciously took that time to heal herself. When her mind was through curing its damage, the real memories poured into her conscious mind and overtook the fake personality protecting her true self.
She was not an idiot. Revan was revered to the Republic as someone to be feared, she knew. To reveal her real name now would either cause Carth to think her crazy or cause him to kill her.
No, she was not an idiot, but she was short one name.
"My name is…. Naver." She frowned slightly in thought. Carth nodded, a small smile on the tips of his lips.
"Got a last name?" He asked. "Naver" nodded.
"Naver Kalam."
-----
Just a small one shot so you guys know I'm still alive. I didn't mean to disappear yet again, and I'm sure you're all tired of hearing my excuses, but these are plausible ones all the same! Heh…. T.T;;
I was almost ready to post the next to last chapter of AOTC at the beginning of summer, then I got appendicitis. I stayed in the hospital for a while and couldn't get to my computer, so the flash drive I had the chapter on was rendered useless. When I finally got to it the summer was halfway over and I had to rush off to band camp. When I got back one of my friends wanted a bunch of music so I loaned them the flash drive to get it. They gave the flash drive back to my brother, who proceeded to lose it in the band hall parking lot.
I was so depressed about losing a good twenty-odd pages, I haven't had the heart to try again. I've been in a really bad mood as of late. Blarg. This one shot was supposed to just be something to get me back in the KOTOR mood.
Help?
Reviews would be nice, but I'm not expecting anything.
Amme Moto