Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Of the Sacrifice
Most of all, I remember his eyes. The gentle ferocity behind them, the determination, and how even against overwhelming odds, they did not shy away from his mission—me.
But you must understand that I had everything under control. Second-rate thugs of a decaying backwater like Taris don't make for the most formidable of captors. Indeed, if I hadn't only just pulled myself from the mangled wreckage of an escape pod, I would have been able to speed along my escape; but as it happened: I was in no condition to do anything but focus on my wounds, heal them through the Force as best as I could.
What I was able to glean from my trance kept me very entertained during my brief imprisonment. The planet had just been placed under martial law, and a bounty was posted on all remaining survivors of the Republic fleet, which was still burning up in the atmosphere, fragments at a time. The credits had nearly every gang from the ground to the stratosphere scouring the Undercity for any trace of Republic soldiers.
Before they found me, they were able to find two poor souls trapped in their pod only a mile from my crash site. The gangs stole them away and turned in three bodies to the Sith patrols—assuming they found an extra uniform in the pod and used one of their own to fill it; I don't know how else they could've made three from two.
It wasn't long before it was my turn. As I said, I was in no condition to put up much of a fight, not that they expected one from a broken girl who'd just fallen from the sky. They never quite figured out that I was a Jedi, even with my lightsaber in their possession. They thought it was some kind of new-age hydrospanner.
Backwater. Right.
I lay unconscious in the Black Vulkar base for several hours, hearing their rabble and expletives from a place in my mind. They just couldn't quite figure out what to do with me, since it appeared I was worth more to them alive and in their possession than with the Sith.
The hours continued to pass, though they only seemed as seconds in my state. Eventually, I was placed in a cage and offered up as a prize in the upcoming swoop race. Why? Even now, I cannot quite understand it. The will of the Force falls in line with my ironic sense of humor very often.
There was more shouting. More bickering over the race and its grand prize, yours truly. I must admit, to be fought over for so long, it did wonders for my ego.
When the race finally began, time began to catch up to me. Voices slowed to a nominal tenor and I could feel air enter my lungs in greater amounts, as foul and hearty as it was. By the time my eyes finally fluttered open, the race was over, and its winner stood on the other side of my cage.
It was an interesting feeling: waking to find the former Dark Lord of the Sith arguing with the Black Vulkar leader over my freedom. In the months following his return to Republic Space, negotiation never once entered the equation as entire worlds burned under his command. As entire civilizations were toppled and stripped and enslaved.
But on the swoop track, he pointed his finger at the gangleader. "You're a damn liar, Brejik!"
As silly as it sounds, I had once hoped to hear such things. There were dreams, so many of them, of the many places we'd see when we eventually traveled the galaxy together. We would descend upon a planet, falling from the stars, and exact justice and peace where they were needed most. We were the Keepers, or so we were told, of a future that would shine brighter than any sun and last even longer than one could burn.
We were asked to believe in peace, and we did so willingly. For as long as we could.
In another life, we might live out the lives we had always planned, bring the dreams we shared into reality. There were so many chances this time around, but not enough it seems. Sometimes, I wish I had joined him and let him take me to the outer regions of space where he dwelled so long in darkness. It would have been something...
We would have been together, at least. And sometimes: I convince myself that would have been enough.
Back on the swoop track, he saw me open my eyes and I observed something in him that looked like relief. It could have just as easily been surprise, but I'd like to believe that some spark of what he use to be still yet endured, and for that shred of a moment we were right where we'd always wanted to be:
Staring down injustice on a world that had grown weak from never seeing the light. Ready to help the helpless. Stalwart in our duty as Keepers of the Peace.
Yes, I like to believe that, for I've seen the workings of the Force with my own eyes. As I said, I've seen its sense of humor.
When all seemed to be at its darkest: Revan and I, we fell from the stars together.
Author's Note: This is a companion piece to "Of the Fall" by Mister Buch. These will collectively be our "eulogy" for the Revan that both knew in our own way, and to the story and characters who never came back. Brace yourself for excessive sentimentality. =)
