Inspired by the mysterious box you have to transport from Korriban to Tattooine--and if you haven't opened the box, you should. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own KOTOR.
Your Reflection
"You can see nothing else when you look in my face, I will look you in the eye and I will never lie."~ one of the riddles told in the box.
She was Revan.
It was hard for her to comprehend, however easily it had been confirmed. Malak had thrown the truth in her face, and Bastila tried to wrap the Jedis' actions in gentle words, but it didn't change a thing.
She was Revan. She had always been the Dark Lady Revan, never Aliana Calion the Republic Scout, never Aliana Calion the Jedi Sentinel. Everyone believed Revan dead, even me, she thought sadly. If they only knew…
Curled up in the empty bunk in the dormitory, Aliana stared at the mirror Mission had proudly hung on the wall when they'd first left Dantooine, claiming that they all needed to admire each other once in a while. Now Aliana gazed into it, half expecting her dark brown eyes to turn Sith yellow, the mischievous expression to become cold hate, and twisting veins to emerge in the porcelain skin. Her reflection gazed solemnly back at her, but the only thing she saw was a saddened, betrayed look.
Betrayed, by the Jedi. Ironic, really. Revan had been a Jedi, but turned her back on them to aid the Republic in the Mandalorian Wars, and then had betrayed the Republic and led the Sith against the people she'd claimed to love and promised to protect. And in a warped kind of cosmic karma—there really was no other way to explain it—she had been betrayed by her own apprentice and rescued by the Jedi Council, who in turn had betrayed her by giving her a new life based on lies, and continuing to lie to her throughout. The Sith got that one right, at least—a cycle of betrayal is all my life was. The betrayer gets betrayed, and the new betrayer eventually is betrayed.
Aliana rose from her bunk, ostensibly to get dressed—in reality all she needed to do was strap on her armor over her tunic. They'd been on Manaan for the past couple of days, and had only gotten as far as destroying the Sith Embassy's credibility (and retrieving some Republic information that had been stolen). When the crew had regrouped aboard the Ebon Hawk it had been decided that they rest and repair their equipment, but she'd been unable to sleep. Actually, she'd been afraid to sleep, afraid that if she did she'd remember more of a past that she never wanted to have, a past that she wished with all her heart had never been revealed. The only good that had come of her fears had been Jolee's reassurances that she was who she chose to be—small comfort, but it had gotten her over the worst of her grief.
Ebony hair was smoothed into place, armor was buckled securely (she'd gone with the armor on Manaan rather than robes in hopes of blending in), and her lightsaber was concealed in the small of her back where the armor had always been a bit loose. From the outside, she looked nothing like a Jedi, much less the former Lord of the Sith, but she knew better than to let her guard down. Aliana looked in the mirror one more time, studying her reflection intensely. All she saw was her own face, as unchanged as if she were still a Jedi, still an ordinary scout, but her eyes were more aware…and more grieved. So much has changed, for me at least.
Turning her back to the lie in the mirror, she walked away.
