Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, only original characters.
Five years have past since the Jedi Civil War, and when Revan, along with his forces, left the known galaxy. Since that day, the Republic has decayed and now clings on to its existence. The Jedi are all but destroyed, and those that remain are hunted mercilessly by an unknown enemy. Now, a ship that has not been seen in four years appears in the skies of Coruscant...
The Ebon Hawk flew effortlessly through the cloudy atmosphere as it sought out its chosen landing pad. Banking gracefully, it came to a stop before setting down softly on the pad. As the whine of the engines died down, the landing ramp extended fully with a soft thud as it hit the permacrete.
As Revan descended the ramp, he clearly heard the whistling of Coruscant's unceasing wind as it ruffled his short-cropped hair. It showed the platform's disuse, as normally there were stratigicly placed force-fields in place to block it.
Turning to face the Coruscant sunset, Revan walked off the landing ramp, admiring the beauty of nature as he waited. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a smile as he pondered the beauty of nature. It served to take his mind off the coming meeting for a precious few moments. The sound of robes snapping behind him soured his mood, dragging his thoughts back to the present.
"I am surprised you came in person," an aged female voice said. It still sounded the same—an almost formal voice—as when he last heard it.
"I was in the sector," Revan replied, "on business." He turned to face the hooded speaker. "What do you want, Kreia?"
"Why did you abandon the galaxy?" Kreia asked.
Her accusing tone cut into Revan's already shortened temper, causing it to flare. "I have not abandoned it," he countered, more heatedly than he meant. He felt his fingers twitch, wanting to form a fist; then, taking a calming breath, he relaxed his hands and his temper. He should have expected this from Kreia. "I do not need to explain myself to you," he continued more calmly.
"But you must answer to someone," she countered. "The galaxy decays because you gave up your right to rule it. It now needs the guidance of your strong hand, Revan. "
Revan briefly thought of his days as Kreia's Padawan. She had not changed much from those days: she still critiqued his every decision and move. "You clearly do not understand me nor my goals anymore," he said, shaking his head sadly. Changing the line of discussion, he repeated his earlier question. "What do you want, Kreia?"
"The galaxy needs you, Revan. The Sith have changed their plans from conquest to destruction."
"So that is what you called yourself before they broke you," Revan said.
Kreia barely suppressed a flinch. Revan could almost see her asking herself how he knew. Glaring at him, she snapped, "That is what they are. And they have all but annihilated the Jedi. The Republic is not far behind. There will be nothing left if you remain idle, Revan."
"And why are you taking an interest in this, Kreia?" Revan asked, deciding to outright ignore her implication.
"Revenge." The lone word hung in the air, full of meaning.
"I do not remember honesty being one of your favorite virtues."
"Nor do I remember foolishness being one of yours," she retorted. "So I thought we would be honest to save time."
"So we are being candid now, are we," Revan replied, amused. "Yet in the same breath you are trying to manipulate me into being emotionally attached to your desire for revenge."
"It is interesting how one can be aware how they are being manipulated and yet the end result is still the same," Kreia countered, matching Revan's tone. "But that is of no importance. The state of the galaxy is everyone's problem. You know this."
"I do," Revan agreed. Turning to face the sunset, he crossed his arms and rested his right hand on his chin, pondering the situation. A finger idly tapped his lips as he stood deep in thought. He was aware that Kreia was waiting patiently in silence. The whistling wind mingled with the sound of distant speeders.
He gazed on the breathtaking sunset without seeing it. In his mind's eye, Revan saw his plans laid out before him, and how Kreia could possibly affect them. He ran many different scenarios quickly through his mind, depending on the Force to aid his insight on how she could help him.
"I can help you," Revan finally said, breaking the silence. "But"–he turned to look at her— "you must help me as well."
Kreia stood patiently, waiting for Revan to finish.
"There is at least one Jedi who has not yet been discovered by these so-called Sith." Revan could almost visibly see Kreia putting the pieces together.
"You can't mean…your brother?" she exclaimed, aghast.
"I can."
"But he is an exile!"
"And?"
"He's forsaken the Force!"
"Then you will be good friends." Revan's playful voice had an edge of transparisteel.
"He's too—"
"Dangerous?" Revan cut in. "Admit it, he is perfect. Give it a moment of thought." He walked quickly to the still lowered boarding ramp, ignoring Kreia's protests.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
'This is a foolish plan,' Then wind fluttered, tame compared to her roiling annoyance. 'How can he think that it could possibly work? And yet…' Her thoughts trailed off. The more she pondered on it, the more it appealed to her.
Revan's footsteps descending the landing ramp interrupted her train of thought.
"And how will a hollow Jedi help me?" she asked, trying to get a greater feel for Revan's plan.
"He is far better suited to fight the fallen Jedi you want dead," he answered. "And this is where you will help me. You will bring him back to the Force and you can try to train him as your new Padawan."
"How am I to 'try to train him'?"
"The same way you tried to train me," Revan replied.
The pad's supports could be heard creaking faintly. The Force showed her what her blind eyes could not see: there was a coldness around her former Padawan. "Where might I find this exile?" she asked, changing the topic and ending the cold silence.
She faintly heard the soft sound of finely made cloth moving as Revan motioned with his hand. The sound of metallic feet on the landing ramp seemed to answer. "This droid," he said, as through the Force she saw that something lifeless had descended the ramp, "has all the information on the exile's last known position." She could hear the soft sound of cloth rubbing on short hair. "HK will show you to the cockpit. You had best be on your way," he added, striding to the walkway. "There are others looking for him as well."
"Why do I need to know where the cockpit is?" she asked to his retreating Force presence.
"The ship is yours," he called over his shoulder without slowing down.
Kreia's blind eyes stared after Revan as he turned a corner and cloaked his presence from her. She found herself pondering over their conversation and how it had ended. An electronic voice cut through her musings. "Statement: My master said that I am to show you to the cockpit. Threat: Come on, meatbag, or I will drag you there."
Kreia took a calming breath. 'I will never understand Revan's fascination with droids,' she thought. 'I hate their unliving presence in the Force.' She turned towards the Ebon Hawk and began walking up the ramp.
Passing through what she sensed to be the largest room on the ship, probably the main hold, she followed HK-47 into the cockpit. "Droid, set course to the exile's position," she ordered coldly.
To her surprise, HK-47 turned to a small droid that she had not noticed. "Statement: You heard the meatbag." Dimly, Kreia perceived that HK-47 was unhappy in a droid-like way, but she did not care. She had other things on her mind as she sat down into the pilot's chair and began the preflight procedures.
Two thoughts dominated her mind: firstly, Revan's odd reaction to her calling her enemies Sith. Secondly, and the thought that occupied her mind the most, was that Revan still had not forgiven her for how she had trained him.
The Ebon Hawk responded well to her touch as it rose of the landing pad into the darkening sky, the engines purring with power out of place for such a small freighter.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
As the Republic Battle cruiser Harbinger sped through space, a man stood facing one of the many transparisteel windows, watching the swirling stars of hyperspace. The Harbinger was bringing him back from his self-imposed exile from the Republic.
The Republic needs you. That had been what they had told him when they had found him. It was almost identical to the call that he had answered at the beginning of the Mandolorian War. Now he found himself answering that call again.
A beep from his burrowed wrist comm unit reminded him that it was time for his appointment in the medical bay. Something about medicine or vaccines that he needed to take. The man sighed deeply and, turning away from the window, whispered, "I'm back."
EDIT:
I have found several new Beta Readers and one of them has suggested to rewrite the first two chapters to help improve the overall quality of the story and the story-telling. I do hope you enjoy the changes. Also a warning; there will now be a greater delay between when I post additional chapters. I also have plans to go back and rewrite Memories of a Stranger to bring it up to the same level of story telling, but I will not do that now as it would only delay this story even longer.
Enjoy!
Author's note: With that said, I would like to announce that I have officially returned for all those who have been waiting for a sequel to my first story. As always, I am open to suggestions as this will help myself and the story as a whole.
So far it is looking like this story will follow in part the original storyline. But it also looks like it could quickly deviate as well. We shall see.